Fears I will never face

Walking over the Ben Franklin, Brooklyn and Golden Gate Bridges are all things I will eventually cross off of my Life List. I don't like being on bridges, but I recognize the beauty of them, and their necessity. I want to conquer my fear, and I will.

Some fears I am not interested in conquering. I will never build a bridge and get over them. Get it?

Anyway. Let's get this over with. I will forever be a weinerwhistle in regards to the following:

1. Midgets. The year was 2007. I think. The scene was the Neshaminy Interplex WaWa. I was minding my own beeswax, getting lunch, and something ran into my leg. Thinking it was a child running amok, I touched the head to gently guide the child back to its parent who I figured was entranced with the MTO Computers. I looked down, emitted a sound like "Aohhmmmm" and died. It wasn't a child. It was a goddamn midget! I came back to life, put down my lunch stuff and ran to my car, where I practiced some deep breathing exercises before driving back to my office. Here the little fucker worked in the building next to me. How do I know this? When I got back to my parking lot, he stepped off the curb as I was driving up so I almost ran him over. I was afraid of them before this, but from here on out? Scarred for life.

2. Clowns. Why the hell do people still like clowns and dress up like them? Haven't they ever seen Poltergeist? Or It? That was some seriously scary shit. WTF people. Burn all the clown costumes. I'll have you know that when I googled "no clowns" a bunch of scary ass clowns came up. Google, I declare a friendship divorce. Until three minutes from now when I need you again.

3. Slugs. Senior year of college, I was sitting on my front steps (I didn't know to call it a stoop then, having not yet lived in Philly) having quite a serious discussion with a friend via phone and smoking cigarettes like it was my job. I reached behind me to grab my drink and grabbed...cripes I am ill describing this 12 years later...a flipping slug had slugged its way up the side of my MFing glass! I touched it and it was a bad touch. BAD TOUCH! I hyperventilated, heaved the glass away, and ran inside to take to my bed where I passed out and slept through my first class the next day.

4. Bed bugs. I can't do this one, I've been scratching phantom itches since I first started thinking about writing something here. I care about health and the environment, except in the case of extermination for bed bugs. For the love of Lucas PLEASE bring back whatever awful chemical was released to keep these things at bay for so many years. I have lost all respect for my eco self after placing this plea on the world wide web.

5. Horror movies and commercials for scary movies. Yes, I know it's all fake. I am a Scary Mary and I don't give a rat's patoot if it's fake or not. It's effed up. Nocandoskies people. Of course I've seen some scary movies (see #2 above), but mostly on accident. "What's a poltergeist? Ahhhhhhhhhh!" "IT? Sounds nondescript. I guess it could be good. WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!!!!" My idea of a good time does not include being so afraid that it's a real possibility that I a) pee myself b) vomit c) cry d) poop my pants e) pass out or f) all of the above. If MFD leaves a commercial for a horror flick on for even a second before flipping the channel I am screeching at him in a high pitched voice to turn it turn it TURN IT RIGHT NOW I'M NOT KIDDING YOU KNOW I DON'T LIKE THIS STUFF WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Shudder.  Fluffy bunnies fluffy bunnies fluffy bunnies.

Shit. The Donnie Darko bunny. Add demonic bunnies to the list.

Fearful and Loathing in Philadelphia,
SMD

p.s. Happy Saturday! Have you seen the google homepage in honor of Lucillle Ball's 100th birthday today?
p.p.s. Every time I dis midgets, I encounter one within a week. Stay tuned. Why do I continue to curse myself?

Luke loves Laura. And so do I.

image from generalhospital.tv

Oh, General Hospital. Luke and Laura Spencer. Luke loved Laura Laura loved Luke on and on ad infinitum for years on GH. Nevermind them and their long history of love, pain, intrigue, moronic son Lucky and foolish daughter Lulu. I am easily distracted on Friday mornings.  I have my own Laura, and this post is about her. When you're as close as we've been for going on 23 years, you can sense each other's moods, whether you live around the corner or two hours away from each other. Today I think Laura could use some laughs and good cheer, no bobs about it. Henceforth on August 5 I will celebrate the anniversary of Laura Being Awesome. In honor of this day, an ode to Laura.

A LITTLE ABOUT LAURA

Laura loves Air Supply, interpretive dance, fudge, wedding planning, participating in dance offs, Brothers Pizza, kids, and the Sound of Music. She is nice to old people. She believes in paying for beach tags and not making a fuss. She is not a good cook and should not ever make her own mixed drinks unless she wants to be poisoned. She can laugh at herself. She hates mustard and cheese, both of which I spilled all over her dashboard at 2 a.m. a trillion years ago. And which she had to clean off of my wedding dress because yes I served hotdogs at my wedding and yes I was messy enough to spill mustard on my wedding dress.

She was always the first to sleep at slumber parties and the first to wake up.  She had two Ford Escorts we named Menudo and Guido. When she fell asleep we used to take ridiculous photos all over them. She never knew about it until we gave her a book of them for her 21st birthday. Here she is on her 21st beside Guido.

I would hire her as my handywoman. She has done electrical work, tiling, painting, etc. in her gorgeous home in North Jerz that came standard with an elevator. She uses it for storage of cleaning supplies, but whenever we visit we like to take photos and act like assholes in it.

She is a CPA working in Manhattan. She can audit like nobody’s business and people too stupid to know she’ll always get to the bottom of something have been burned by underestimating her.  She works near Magnolia Bakery and never goes there.  How?

This crazy ass also ran the NYC Marathon a few years ago and is running it again this November. We follow her around the city boozing out of flasks, wearing t-shirts with her name on them, holding up signs with her face on them and hooting and hollering like loons. Win/win.

Her heart is the size of the moon. In addition to volunteering for Holiday Express throughout the year, she also volunteers at weekend camps for kids who have lost their parents to cancer. She travels two hours to attend Relay For Life events and walks beside me in the heat and rain to raise money for people with cancer. She lost her Dad to the disease and instead of spewing bitterness into the atmosphere she chooses to pump love into the universe. This is one of my favorite photos of Laura and Mike:

She is silly and ridiculous and not afraid of looking crazy. She makes the best costumes and wears them with glee. She is also very crafty and ingenious and to thank us for being a good support system turned jock straps into #1 Supporter Gifts.

I won’t try to describe what a huge part of my life she is. When I told her I started this blog yesterday, she offered to be my Victor. She is my family and one of the people I love most in the world, my favorite road trip partner, pretty much the only person I answer the phone for besides my parents and husband, and quite honestly one of the best people I know. If there is a rapture like some of the crazies think there will be, she is definitely moving on up. This photo is from May 21 this year, the latest Rapture Hoax.

Laura, I know you are reading this because I sent you the link. You are beautiful, strong, smart, funny, generous and wonderful. You bring a great richness to the lives of everyone lucky enough to be one of your people. Today, I hope you are celebrating that. I will be.  Happy anniversary of being awesome!

Looking through the eyes of loooooove,
SMD

p.s. I’ll still be sending you a card like I always do when I can feel your fret through the miles. Blogs don't replace Hallmark greetings.      

p.p.s. I wrote this and then went in the bathroom and cried because I am so proud of my friend for the courage and spirit she's shown in the past few years. Yes, I am a weinerwhistle.                                                                         

Why would she name her blog weinerwhistle?

1. Weinerwhistle is the best word of our time. Many moons ago (i.e. 2009) on a rampant drunken weekend in Atlantic City for the Stringband Show of Shows I pulled weinerwhistle out of the depths of my blackberry brandy addled brain and used it as every other word for about six hours, then when I returned I honored it with a Facebook page. It was called Weinerwhistle is the best word of our time, and it's now pretty defunct and about to be archived by Zuckerberg.

Anyhooooo. The page's description was cheery and fitting: 
Weinerwhistle...say it aloud. Doesn't it make you smile? It rolls right off your tongue. Initially the founder of the word weinerwhistle (my mother) intended for it to mean "scary mary" or someone who was being a "fraidy cat" in any given situation. But I use it as often as I can to mean whatever I want. And you should too. Weinerwhistles of the world unite!

It made me think of the Oscar Mayer Weinermobile, which I was fortunate enough to see on Main Street while attending the University of Delaware. Behold its magestic beauty (not my pic):

2. The name I really wanted for my blog was taken, and I was using not having a name as an excuse for why I wasn't starting a blog. Then I was whining (being a weinerwhistle if you will) about not being comfortable with the wordpress or blogspot platforms. Then I blamed it on not having enough material. Then blah blah blah. Bottom line I had to pick a name and start the blog. There comes a time to shit or get off the pot. I'm shitting. Don't worry, not really.

3. I asked a friend what I should call it, and she replied Weinerwhistle. Dunzo. Mrs. B's blog can be found...right here. Get it?

Let the blogging begin. Thank you Mrs. B, and thank you Mom. Don't kill me for this post-Royal Wedding Party picture. It makes me laugh and laugh.

Sayonara for now.

SMD

p.s. The blog title font is Permanent Marker. I picked it because I liked the idea of writing weinerwhistle in permanent marker.
p.p.s The post title font is Walter Turncoat. I picked it because it was called Walter Turncoat. Forgive if either are difficult to read.