“I got pulled over by the police this morning.”

“Why?”

“That’s what I wanted to know. I knew I wasn’t speeding.”

“Well, what did they say?”

“Said they had reports that this car was swerving. I know who did it, too. Timmy Hunton (ex-boyfriend number 5,403)–that nosy bastard doesn’t have anything better to do.”

“How did he even know you were out driving?”

“I waved at him going out the road, thought I’d at least be friendly. I don’t normally go that way, cause his wife is one crazy bitch. But I was taking Cassie out to pay some bills and wasn’t thinking.”

“Well did you get a ticket?”

“No, didn’t even get a warning. But then he wanted to know if we was patients from the methadone clinic.”

“God help me…”

“Oh that’s Freddie beepin’ in. (ex-boyfriend number 5,672). Let me take that, he always did have such a calming influence to him.”

So…if the cop had reason to think that my mom and her friend were methadone patients, (That’s one of the few prescriptions I don’t believe either of them take.) why didn’t he at least give a warning? Or a field sobriety test? I probably don’t want to know.

Ok, trying to get back to our regularly scheduled programming here. I have to admit that the folks over at TMI Tuesdays can, at times, do the impossible–embarass me. Just as often, I have to head over to the Urban Dictionary to even know what they are talking about…so I just can’t participate every week. But this one seems safe enough.

1. What are your feelings about traditional bachelor/bachelorette parties?

Why not? I mean, one last hurrah as a single person? I’ve been to one or two and they aren’t much different than a usual night on the town.

2. Do you wear (or not wear) something special to bed/dress differently when you want to have sex?

Please. Men want to have sex every night. We just do. So unless I’m wearing a heating pad and Vicks Vapor Rub, I’m good to go. (and probably willing to give it a shot under those circumstances as well if you don’t mind the smell of mentholatum)

3. Do you ever fake orgasms?

Ya know, I was just talking about this with a friend the other week. I think it’s much tougher for a man to do it than a woman….but men can, particularly if we have a condom on. And, yes, I have.

4. Do you own any leather or rubber clothing?

I have a leather jacket that I’ve owned for years. It was like a $400 piece from J Crew, and a friend got it for pennies at a trunk sale, then realized that it looked just wonderful on me and gave it to me. (Actually I think he moved to a climate ill suited for such a heavy jacket and gave it to me, but I can flatter myself, can’t I?) But, I have a feeling that is not what this question was looking for. No, I do not own any leather bondage gear, no rubber underwear.

5. On a scale from 1-10, how willing are you to do something in bed you don’t want to just because you are asked?

Totally depends on the person. I mean there are some things I wouldn’t do under any circumstance with anybody. There are many things I wouldn’t do with a casual fling. But when it comes to someone you care about and have something with, it’s ok (and, some might argue, important) to entertain their inner freak sometimes.

Bonus: Can men and women be “just friends?”

Well yeah. There may be times that there is some tension or brief moments where one wants more but men and women are friends all the time with minimal drama.

1. Had a wonderful Thanksgiving with the family this year. It dawned on me that it’s the first time in many years that we’ve all been together. My middle brother spent last Thanksgiving…um…attending a state function, I was absent from a few because I was at the outlaws house, and so I think this might have been the first time in four or five years we were all at the house together. I mentioned meeting my brother’s new girlfriend, and am somewhat disappointed to report that there’s nothing blog-worthy about her–she seems very nice, good looking (our Nana said she was “as pretty as a speckled submarine–whatever that means).

2. Lil brother, stepmom, and I braved the malls on Black Friday. I didn’t buy a single thing but I did help pick out a few of my Christmas gifts (am so looking forward to my new memory foam pillow!!). Best Buy was a ZOO! But, the TV I thought I got such a great deal on last year was half the price I paid for it. Kind of a sick feeling knowing I could have gotten two if I waited a year. LOL!

3. My uncle hosted our big family Thanksgiving this year. The lucky bastard didn’t even have his house on the market and a neighbor’s friend made an offer on it. Why can’t I have that kinda luck?? No one  has even looked at my house.

4. I saw my crazy mama, literally, for five minutes over Thanksgiving. The usual reasons for my short visit apply, but she called five hours late–literally as I was on my way to the interstate to come home. And was less concerned with seeing me and more concerned that I might bring her a pack of cigarettes and a dozen eggs (which took THREE stops to find). She claimed she was baking a cake. She gives me her usual speech about “the house is a mess, but come on anyway.” And when she says a mess, she means it! I snuck and took the picture above while she was refilling her Pepsi. That giant pile of clothes is her sofa! and that mess of stuff in front is hiding a coffee table. I’ve long said it looks like one of those Oprah shows on hoarding–you be the judge!

Hope everyone enjoys a great holiday weekend filled with love, laughs, and good food.

And remember, try not to get hit in the face with a ham, y’all!

1. This turned out to be an unexpectedly busy weekend. Friday, after spending the morning at work, and the afternoon hanging garland, lights, and decorations for a client, a friend of mine and I went out for a night on the town. While I did not drink myself into oblivion as I have done the past couple of times a night out has happened, I did stay out til four in the morning.

2. Saturday, after sleeping in til almost eleven, I had a salon day. The same friend I went out with recently told me that I looked “ancient” in bright light because the white hairs that keep mulitplying across my head are all the more obvious then. So, guess what, I don’t have any white hair now. (I’ll grow old gracefully as soon as I am ready, thank you very much.)

3. Sunday, I went to Atlanta to see two exhibits–Dialog in the Dark and The Bodies Exhibit.  Now I have seen the Bodies before…and expected it to be somewhat gory, but it wasn’t. It’s an amazing and very interesting look at real preserved human bodies. If you ever get a chance, go see it. It’s fascinating how many bits and parts we are made of. Dialog in the Dark was an hour long look at everyday life for a blind person. In total darkness, myself and seven others had to explore a park, cross a street, make purchases at a bar, grocery shop, and board a boat. Really gives you an appreciation for your sense of sight, and makes you marvel at what blind people go through. And our tour guide, herself visually impaired, sounded exactly like Wanda Sykes.

4. The Thanksgiving countdown is nearing zero. I’ll  be making the trek up to the mountains of West Virginia in a few days and have a full schedule of people to see and things to do. I get to meet (I hope) my middle brother’s new girlfriend. I’ve only met one other girl he has dated, and she was about as refined as a dump truck, so I’m anxious to see what the new gal is like. Looking forward to some good food! (And someone best have me a pecan pie at the ready.)

1. The visit with my folks went great–lots of good food and wine. Since they were visiting me, that meant my two brothers had the run of the house for the weekend. Lil’ brother texted me as the folks were on their way, reporting that Middle brother had already arranged for the circus midgets and that he would be picking up the strippers on his way home from college. Later that night, while the parents and I were having a case a glass of wine, I sent Lil’Brother a text asking “How are the strippers?” His reply had us all cracking up the rest of the weekend, and I have to record it here for posterity, even though I know most people reading this won’t find the humor in it that we did.

“Riddled with self-esteem issues.”  We were dying, but maybe you have to know him to “get it”.

2. And while I am talking about my family, I have to see if they are reading by offering a link to a website I am sure my stepmother will enjoy: FOR YOU, NON-CRAZY MAMA.

3. So now that the little house in the Vinyl Village is officially on the market (and, doubtless, just waiting for multiple above-asking offers), do I have to change the name of this blog? Tales from a Generously Borrowed Guest Suite, perhaps? Sex and the Suburbs (if I’m lucky…LOL!)?  As I think a little about dating again (is there a time frame one must follow? I mean, it’s not like I was widowed?) I remember some of the stories from the last time I was single—way back before everyone and their cleaning lady had a blog. At least this go around my dating misfortunes can entertain someone.

4. While most of my work is residential, in these tough times, we will design a damned dog house if someone will sign a contract. To that end, I’ve been working on a new store at the local mall. It will open after the first of the year. Now, I hate doing commercial work. The codes and bureaucracy are enough to choke a horse, and no one really cares about the product the way clients do when you are dealing with their home. But this one is particularly interesting, because the people who currently work in the space HAVE NO CLUE that their store is closing to make way for the one I am designing. So, site visits to verify the as-built conditions have been done under clandestine circumstances. First, in order to inspect the height we could take the ceiling to, my boss and I were introduced (in our work khakis and button-up shirts) as “Men here to check the heating system.” A second visit, to locate electrical service/outlets/etc. we were introduced to another soon-to-be-unemployed gal as “Guys here to conduct an insurance audit.” I detest such dishonesty.

5. And while I’m discussing work, tomorrow I’ve been invited back to an old client’s house to decorate it for Christmas. These are great clients. I decorated the house for him, designed a half million dollar renovation once he and the new Mrs. started a family, and now they’ve come to trust my opinion so much that they won’t hang so much as a new roll of toilet paper without my advice. Anything to make a few bucks for the holidays, I guess. It’s actually kind of rare that I do a house for people with kids still at home. Much of my work is retirement or second homes done for folks who are near retirement age. It’s always nice to do a house that kids will grow up in though…because I know it will get filled with a whole other kind of memories.

1. It was a beautiful fall weekend here…temps in the high sixties, with skies as clear and blue as a bottle of Bombay Sapphire. I took advantage of this weather by planting pansies and doing some outside work at the house in the Vinyl Village–painting the trim around the front door, getting a coat of paint on the French doors, and scrubbing mildew off of the little white picket fence I’ve lived behind for the past four and half years. Last week, I spent an afternoon doing the sorts of things inside that they advise home sellers to do on HGTV–packing away personal photos, pulling up rugs to make rooms look larger, decluttering the kitchen. The little house in the Vinyl Village is ready for the market…not so sure I am.

2. My folks are coming down this weekend! Now those of you who read often will know that when I say “my folks” or “my parents” Im referring to my dad and stepmom. Crazy mama is, of course, a parent too, but we all know she is in a different category all together. They haven’t been down for a visit in a couple of years I think, but it will be a weekend of good food, good wine, and good company. Fortunately for me, they will leave having provided absolutely no blog fodder.

3. I can’t believe how fast this year has gone by…it seems like it was just a week or two ago that I was laying by the pool, and now we’re just a few weeks away from the holiday season. I know this because I’ve already started getting emails about the “War on Christmas!” (ugh…don’t get me started), the stores are already stocking Christmas merchandise, and a client has already booked me to come do up their house for the holidays. (Please, dear God, let me be rich enough to one day be able to hire a professional designer to come string lights and hang my stockings!) I was talking with a friend about how the holidays will be low-key this year. Seems like many people, if employed at all, are scared they won’t be much longer, or have taken salary cuts, etc. Are there ways you are scaling back your usual holiday giving and traditions this year?

4. And speaking of Christmas…I noticed several of my friends voted on a poll or signed a petition or something saying that the Obama White House should NOT call the Christmas tree a “Holiday tree”. Fine and good, except the whole thing smacked of falsehood and sensationalism. And…it was: Holiday Tree Hooey. And to that I say:

My conversations with my crazy mama have been fewer and farther between lately. For this, I am thankful. I have enough shit going on in my own life. But she called today, and my Lord if we’d been having the conversation face to face I would have had to take a handful of her nerve pills just to get through it.

We somehow got onto the topic of my father’s family. She and my father divorced when I was a toddler. A few flicks of the beads on your abacus will tell you that was nearly 30 damn years ago (though if you’d like to swear it couldn’t have been more than 20, I’ll let you). Just as some background, throughout my childhood and college days, Mom tried all she could to extort money from Dad. To this day, she feigns insult if he doesn’t call her on Mother’s Day. (He pointed out decades ago that she wasn’t his mother,  but when you have the sense of entitlement that she has, he should not only call her, but probably send a check each year for bearing his child.)

Anyhoo…mom asked about one of my Dad’s brothers and his wife. I’ve no clue why. But I was telling her that their two kids  have devoted themselves in admirable ways to their religion–one is a recent graduate with a degree in Divinity, the other travels the world doing missionary work. (Both are in their mid twenties, which makes their work all the more admirable for some reason). Both were raised and continue to work in the Baptist (or Baptist-ish) faith. Mom asked if my Aunt and Uncle were also active in the Baptist church. I told her they were, and had been for some time. This seemed to surprise her because my father and his siblings were raised Catholic (though none of them have ever practiced it in my lifetime).

“The rest of ‘em are holy water throwin’, sit in a box and tell a preacher–well not a preacher, but what do you call him?–your sins”

“A Priest?”

“A priest, that’s it. I never had so much exercise in a church in my life. Sit down stand up kneel bow oh father hail Mary!”

“Oh God.”

“Throwin’ Holy water around! I told yer daddy we don’t do that at a Baptist church. They might annoint you with a little oil…they did that for your sister you know, and I’ve got the rest of the bottle of the oil. Was you ever annointed?”

“No, I think it would break my skin out.” (my skin is sensitive, y’all!)

“It smells so good…I think it’s got frankencense and myrrh in it. Anyway I think your daddy wanted me to convert to Catha…Calotha…Caloticism…whatever you call it. But I said, no sir, no child of mine’s getting put through all that sit down stand up and having holy waters thrown at him. I was scared to death.”

I might interject here that I’m fairly certain that Dad was not so much a practicing Catholic in those days that the idea of her converting to his faith was ever anything more than a light conversation…but by now y’all know how Mama likes to exaggerate.

I tuned out for a few minutes and came back to the conversation when she started babbling about the swine flu.

“I ain’t convinced that it ain’t something some of these FORNERS have set on us as a biological warfare!”

“I’m sure you aren’t the first crazed nutjob person to have that theory.”

“It might not even be a virus at all…might be chemical agents. I ain’t takin’ that shot.”

I tuned out again.

“Next time you come up on a Fri-dee, gimme a few weeks notice so we can go up to the lawyer and get my will in writing and all. If we don’t, the state will take everything.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d be next of kin (God help me) and it would all go to me anyway.”

“I think if you don’t leave a will the state just takes ever-thing you have.”

“Well, call the lawyer and find out.”

“I want you to have it all. ‘Course you won’t want my clothes, give those to someone needy, but not the Salvation Army…” (no clue why that proviso was added, and I think the poor have suffered enough, I will not donate her Debbie Gibson ruffle-top socks, her Ho Fo’ Sho’ skirts, nor her acre of too-tight denim to anyone who isn’t doing a remake of “Fame“)

“All my lotions and perfumes and smell-good stuff you can give to The Black Girl Anita.” (This “girl” it should be noted, is a grandmother.) I do not know Anita, but I suppose I will take out an ad upon mother’s death that reads:

“Will Anita, a Black Girl,  please contact me in regards to an inheritance of half-used bottles of Bath and Body Works products that you are to receive.”

“…and I reckon you ought to give some of that kinda thing to Cassie, even if she does have 25 personalities.”

“Ok. Will do.”

“Of course, this house and everything in it is yours. Just sell the house, but don’t let it go for less than so many thousand. And keep that kitchen table. I bought that with money I got bein’ in that car wreck when you was two. And that bedroom suit (suit, not suite) at the front of the house is worth some big money, it was one of only 400 of ‘em made when we got it….” (Lord help, she is still holding onto that line the furniture salesman gave her 29 years ago?? They only made 400 because no one else would buy the damned ugly thing. Who in their right mind wants a bed with a covered bridge carved into the headboard???) “This furniture in my room just give it away to somebody unless you have a spot for it or something…it ain’t got no value to it. And I can’t even go in that other room where your sister’s bed is yet but I imagine you’ll want that too…” She breaks off into tears at this point…which would be well understandable if A. she was talking about my sister’s childhood bedroom, or B. at least her childhood furniture. But neither myself nor my late sister have EVER slept in the house mom lives in now, and none of the furniture in it comes from the rooms we grew up in. This “sister’s room” is merely the other guest room that mom had at one time decorated in colors she mistakenly thought my sister might like.

“the recliner in the living room was your grandpa’s, you’d like to have that….”  Um, no, he has been dead over twenty years and I don’t like brand-new recliners, let alone ones that are as old as I am.

“and the living room suit (again with the suit, as if the  room were dressed for an interview) is like brand-new, it ain’t hardly ever been sat in.” That might be because she put piles of clothes on the sofa and chair when she moved in five years ago and has yet to get around to finding them a home in, say, a closet.

At this point, I carefully reached for my other phone and dialed my own cell number.

“Mom, I’m getting a call I need to take.”

“Ok honey, now call me back later. Promise?”

“Promise.”

I had my fingers crossed, so I don’t REALLY have to call back do I??

Timely advice on how to dress your girly son for Halloween…and not a moment too soon!

1) What are three mistakes someone could make on the first date with you that would automatically make you turn down a second date with them?

You know, I think I’m pretty forgiving on first dates. I understand the jitters and nervousness, etc. But if someone was dishonest, rude, or I just knew that there was no way in hell I was ever gonna feel a “spark” I wouldn’t waste my time on a second date.

2) Pick an animal that best displays your personality.

a housecat. A long haired, snooty one. OK maybe that doesn’t suit my personality, but if I had to come back as an animal, that’s what I’d pick.
3) If your significant other stopped having sex with you, how long would you stay?

It depends on the reason. If there were some physical reason or something like that, I wouldn’t have an issue. But a dried up sex life is usually a symptom of bigger problems, in which case I would get to the bottom of it or get out.
4) Are you more passive or aggressive when the relationship becomes physical?

There’s something to be said for both. Depends on my mood I guess.
5) Have you ever been INSIDE a store that sold adult themed toys and videos?

Oh yes. Such stores are a hoot! In college, there was one that had a bargain bin of movies and we would get granny and midget porn for like two dollars and just laugh our asses off at it.

Bonus (as in optional): What percentage of women do you think are capable of handling being in a “friends with benefits” relationship? How about men?

I think just about every man in the world could handle friends with benefits. When it comes to sex, most of us think with the wrong head and there doesn’t have to be any sort of emotional connection necessarily. So I’m going to say 90 percent of men. Women, on the other hand, need more than just a physical attraction (unless, of course, copious amounts of liquor are involved) so I will say 10 percent of them could be OK with such an arrangement.