First Memories...

I used to think that I was the only adult whose first memory ever as a human being girl child was scary as shit. I thought other people had memories of bunnies, ice cream and puppy dogs. I started my survey yesterday when dining with my cousin, Nancy, her husband, Gary, SalGal and The Ancient One. I posed the question, "What was your very first memory?" It's a question that can be 'offputting' (oh, another word I like...offputting...is it really a word?)...so I started telling mine to give them time to think about their own first memories.

I was 3 years old and stuck in a garden by myself in the summer in Santa Fe. At the age of 3, I wasn't as tall as I am now, and the flower garden I was in was filled with Holly Hocks and rose bushes. Holly Hocks can grown to 6 or 7 feet tall. How I wound up in the garden as a defenseless 3-year-old all alone is not actually known. You'd have to ask the Ancient One, and she'll certainly not fault her parenting skills, I can assure you. So, that was really it. I just remember crying and screaming because I thought I was lost forever. Holly Hocks still scare me whenever I see them.

Cousin, Nancy was 4 years old and was playing with a Boxer. He got tired of her harassing him, as dogs' attention spans are stilted at best. She went to kiss him and he tried to bite the mouth off her face! I thought getting lost in a garden was bad. She remembered the blood and going to the hospital for stitches all around her mouth, but her main memory is of coming home from the hospital that evening. Her mouth was practically stitched closed in the shape of a dry kiss and would stay that way for days. Her mother, The Ancient One's sister, had cooked her corn on the cob for dinner. I'm learning so much about the maternal instincts that the women in my family carry, and this one is absolutely priceless.

And, as if that weren't bad enough, it was The Ancient One's turn to play the memory game. Her first memory was of being locked in HER mother's closet (by HER MOTHER). She musta done something wrong, but to be locked in a closet...I'm just saying. Anyway, in order to pay her mother back, The Wee One blew her nose on the hems of her mother's pretty chiffon dresses. Another inlet in the Jackson family waters of the River Dysfunction.

As I've always said, show me a family that isn't dysfunctional, and I'll call you a liar. Nancy's husband, Gary who grew up in Idalou, Texas (I challenge ANYone...even WITH knowledge of the Texas panhandle to be able to spot Idalou on a map). Bless his heart, his first memory was of being in his back yard there in Idalou with his older brother shooting him with a BB gun. It's not exactly like having "The Christmas Story" accident with the BB gun...this boy was hunting his baby brother. Gary remembered BBs in his legs and hiding behind a tree (and there weren't too many trees IN west Texas, so the trunk of this one was probably pencil thin).

SalGal's first memory is sooooooo like her that I don't dare try to speak for her. She can tell you herself.

So, there you have it...let the survey continue, which I KNOW, is causing all of you to immediately look far away as you reach back in the 'way back' to retrieve that first memory of yours. Gawd, I hope it was a happy one, for pity's sake!

Love,
KK

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Lots of people won't believe me but I swear this is true. My first memory is I'm in my crib and I'm trying to walk but I can't. And I'm thinking to myself that I know I can walk and why is it so hard all of a sudden? I know I can do it. But why can't I do it? My stuffed pink elephant is in the crib with me.

The Ancient One tells everybody that I got up in my crib and walked around when I was 5 months old. My bones were not strong enough to hold my body up so my legs bowed and I ended up in leg braces just like the ones in 'Forest Gump'. In fact I think those were mine they used for props in the movie. By the way, if there are any young mothers out there, skipping the crawling phase is a symptom of dyslexia. It's been a battle all of my life, especially since nobody knew what dyslexia was in the early 1950's. All I can say is that it's really weird to have a one hundred and forty IQ and still have trouble telling my right hand from my left.

Then I remember other things like KK arriving, kittens being born in the bottom of the closet and that the dolls lined up along the wall were creepy. Mother says I enjoyed playing alone and could occupy myself for hours in my room. Once she had her girlfriends over for the regular Wednesday poker game and after about an hour she noticed that there had not been a peep out of me for hours. She went into my room and found that I had taken a dump in my diapers and then discovered how much fun it was to dip my hand in it and throw it against the walls.

I bet I had a blast but that...I don't remember,
SalGal

The Sandwich Scouts

The nicest man wrote a glowing comment to us about the Midlife Gals this morning. He has more experience with Ancient Ones than anyone since he was in family-practice medicine specializing in geriatric care for 31 years! He's retired now and wants to give us all MERIT BADGES for our work with our own Ancient Ones. Isn't that a FANTASTIC idea?? Here is the link to Sandwich Scouts

I love this man (although he has a wife, and I'm sure she's probably very pretty and nice and everything, but...)I love him! He totally gets our need for humor, even the wacky humor coming from The Midlife Gals. And yet, he's STILL got empathy after taking care of ancient ones for so many years. People like this are ANGELS and should be heralded.

If you are taking care of an aging parent, you gotta go to his site and tell all of your friends so he can expand his merit badge network. If I just knew how to sew, I'd make a sash like we wore in the Brownies and attach his badges all over it, because after perusing what his badges are for, Sal and I qualify in almost every single category!!! As of now, you can simply download any merit badge you think you're entitled to...and since it's the honor system, you can lie your ass off about it, thus making yourself feel so much better as you print your badges. SalGal and I are making a border on our 'magic room' wall of all the badges we've earned. We're so proud already!

Have fun with 'Dr' Phil (his name is Phil) and let him know who you are!!

Love,
KK and SalGal

Pets R Us

The Gods have such a sense of humor where our pets are concerned, don't they? We are three women with three cats, moving through each other's zones in this house and causing laughter wherever it comes...and it comes every day without fail. All they have to do is look at us sometimes and we crack up. But, then you know how easily amused we are!

I brought over two cats when I moved in with Sal and The Ancient One...Dammit and Odessa. Dammit is my Ancient Kitty and Odessa, a spoiled toddler. Can you guess which one is really like me? Dammit has found her place in this house by The Ancient One's side. Sal and I often look at the couch to find both The Ancient One and Dammit snoring with their mouths half open. Dammit sleeps on top of the backrest so she has a view of everything and everyone. She just has an 'air' about her...rarely smiling, judging all who walk by and as consumed with the Fox News channel as her counterpart, TAO.

I also brought along my little Odessa, a long-haired calico who is so fat that we're not sure she even has a neck or legs. She's soft like a bunny rabbit, but tough as nails when it comes to holding her own with Sally's cat, Buddy. If we don't monitor the cats' eating twice a day, if either one of the other two walk away, Odessa sneaks to their bowls and gobbles down their food before you can say licketysplit. She stays where you put her which is most unlike a cat. She has few boundaries and is willful beyond the norm. She won't come near The Ancient One and although she adores Sal, she's my bitch and I'm hers.

Buddy was found in a dumpster in LA and brought to our house by Sally, and he is sooooo L.AAAA. He's handsome and knows it. He's also the only member of our household who has front claws. He thought he was the alpha cat until I showed up, and we had our moments at first. He likes to bite and he's fast as lightening. He's completely besotted with Odessa too. He wants her even though he's a eunich. She teases him mercilessly and every now and then we'll see him trying the dry nasty with her. She lets him which shows where her boundaries are. Buddy would like to kill Dammit. He just doesn't like her, doesn't understand her and wants her gone. He feels that way about The Ancient One as well. A water spray bottle is the only thing that has kept Dammit alive when he's on the prowl. He squints his eyes if we even pick up the spray bottle.

Dogs R not us! They were us, but we've grown old, slow and soft and that's why we like cats...that and the fact that we don't have to walk them or carry old plastic shopping bags around to pick up their poo. They slobber and smell, but they love us, and we applaud all of you dog people, really. We're just done with them.

Everyone should have a pet even if it's a fish!

KK

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I love my cat Buddy. He is a rascal, a scoundrel and a maker of tomfoolery. His eyes are the color of the inside of a kiwi fruit. He is black and white with very long hair that is so fine, when you touch it you can't even feel it on your fingers. It's that soft.

I imagine that in Buddy's mind he is the perfect cat. He keeps guard at the screen door, stays out of The Ancient One's way and keeps his penis clean. A dutiful cat. Buddy checks the corners for bugs and makes sure the bluebirds in the birdbath don't stay too long. Runs at the windows do this and also keep the squirrels from eating my deck plants. An exemplary cat.

When Buddy was left in the dumpster in downtown LA on skid row, I imagine he figured his master would be back to get him. He didn't know he wasn't wanted anymore... so he just waited. But the God of Cats was watching out for him. Little did he know that when that soft-hearted, redheaded animal activist named Raegan grabbed him out of that big metal box, he was headed uptown to that big skyscraper in the sky. And little did I know that the two of them together would look at me with their green eyes and sucker me into becoming Buddy's new assistant. A conniving cat. Screw the guy who owned him before, this was a new world filled with chairs to scratch, MeowMix salmon, tuna and shrimp and a mommy who didn't care if he slept on the bed.

So now Buddy, the Turkish Angora, saunters around like the king of his domain, keeps Dammit in her place with The Ancient One, abuses Odessa daily (she loves it) and makes sure the c's and J's on KK's computer work. We know this because when he is gone his work is visible on the screen.

Cats are easy. Go get one. Bring home a baby and push its paw in the kittylitter and you will have a friend that is quiet, house trained and doesn't bark when you sing.
SalGal

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

A dear friend of mine sent me a partial list of 'favorite things' that he found on a legal pad in his father's house after he died:
chicken fried steak
the smell of rain
puppy breath and...
fresh green beans

My friend has his own list too which includes:
saddles
west Texas thunderstorms
the smell of a horse and...
anyone who is creative

I just love these lists, so I want to revisit mine in the hope that some of my favorites will trigger your own list:
a cat's purr
the feel of chinchilla
a hotdog at the ball park
the first spring crocus that I spot
a really great movie
good news in the mail
a beauty parlor shampoo
the smell of a horse
the sound of spurs when a cowboy walks
the sound of leather in a saddle
the smells of Italy
the sound of two old Italian women talking on the street
a shopping spree
the sounds of dove in the early morning

...I could just go on and on, but I'm tarnishing my cynical image with all this schmaltz, aren't I? Today is just an exquisite day in the Texas hill country. Have a GREAT day wherever you all are and spend all day today thinking about your own lists...write them down!

Love,
KK

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I think it's a great way to be grateful. Spring is for new beginnings, fresh starts and animals screwing each other in the yard.

I love the smell of Wysteria, the garlic that wafts down 6th Street and the top of my cat's head.

I love the taste of Stubb's Bar-B-Q, Fino's basil Mojitos and man-skin.

I love the sound of Garth Brooks, wind chimes in the trees and cat's feet running through the house. The last one sounds like fairies are scampering about just out of sight.

I love to look at pretty, young men and The Ancient One when she's asleep. Looking at KK in our videos makes me laugh every time.

I love to touch roses, stone sculptures, birds and elephant skin. The world is so full of so many amazing things to experience; food, art and crispy oysters at Jeffry's - nighttime laughter, KK's grilled cheese sandwiches and skinny-dipping at Hippie Hollow. (I haven't done that in about 30 years)

My favorite thing of all though is to make people laugh. It's good for you. You live longer the more you laugh. You are healthier and you don't have time to honk at people when you're laughing. It feels good to do it, hear it and participate in it. It's like a strong drug that is free, over-the-counter and multiplies as you pass it around.

So today I'm going to be grateful for everything I see and think of weird ways to make people laugh. Don't tell KK or she will get worried. I can just hear her now, "SalGaaaal...what are you theenkeeeng...?'
Shhh...
SalGal

Childhood Lessons

We start out with dysfunction from an early age, don't we? I've been thinking about how many childhood tactics I used to use and how many are still valid and useful at this age...Hmmmmmm.

I've mastered the art of 'the dirty look'...you know, that look that you give the schoolyard bully... before you run away. Now I give it to The Ancient One whenever she really pisses me off and then I storm out of the room. She knows my look cuz I learned it from HER for pity's sake! It's just one tool in my arsenal of overreactions caused by middle age!

I'm not above using 'the tantrum' when presented with a yung'un service person who acts like they were just tossed off the turnip truck. It starts wit
h the dirty look, then morphs into the, "Just how long HAVE you been a waitress, DEAR!?" These tantrums can only be verbalized at the END of an unsatisfactory restaurant situation because they'll damn sure spit on your food after they've picked it up off the floor and put it back on your plate in the kitchen (I was a waitress once!).

I never mastered the 'share' lesson as a child. I've always mistrusted that instinct and I know why now. When Sal and I were wee ones, our mother and a few other mothers in the neighborhood sat all their wee ones on the floor in a circle and passed around soda crackers and one cup of KoolAid. We were thrilled to death and practiced 'the share' between us. What we didn't know was that those bitch mothers of ours were doing it because one of us had the mumps AND the measles and they thought it would be better if we all got sick at the same time so that it would run its course through our group in a timely manner, thus not inconveniencing our bitch mothers any more than was necessary. You can probably tell that it WORKED or I wouldn't be so bitterly retelling the tale!

I was also waaaaaaaaaay too competitive as a child to get the 'plays well with others' lesson either. I wanted to kick their asses, and I have no idea where that came from, as The Ancient One, who was The Stunning One back then couldn't have cared less about competition of any kind...wait...I take that back...she won all the handsome young men and kicked ass in that competition! Consequently, I am NOT a team player, a cheerleader or a club joiner. I AM a damn good friend though.

Inside/Outside voices...what in the HELL is that? When you wanted to carry on a conversation out in west Texas if the wind was blowing, you used your inside/outside/down-the-road/hollerin' voice or you'd never get your point across. I've had to be restrained before when I've seen a mother who has no business being one, quietly respond to a SCREAMING toddler in a public place with, "Please use your inside voice, Honey." My daddy woulda just gone out and gotten a switch from the mimosa tree in the backyard and laid it across my fanny once or twice (not too hard...just enough to scare the shit out of me). But, that was 1956. My, how times have changed.

The Ancient One is pretty happy about the way we turned out, I must say. We just don't remind her that she had practically nothing to do with that because our maid, Dorothy is the one who really raised us. Hehehe.

Thank GAWD for childhood lessons. They still serve us well,
KK

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That's so true. Seeing as how mother slept every day until 11AM, was never at home when we got home from school and was out partying almost every night - we were raised by a five-foot tall, 300-pound black woman named Dorothy. She was a great mother though, look at us.

The Stunning One taught us good stuff when we could catch her though. We have really good taste in art, decor and poker chips (they must be clay). We had the best of both worlds. Mother taught us how to fold a napkin, which professions were preferable in a husband, and how to hold in a fart when in public. Dorothy taught us how to fight back at the schoolyard, that everything tasted better cooked in bacon grease and that survival of the prettiest led to fluffy, empty heads.

When we got sick mother made us hot lemonade. It was almost worth getting sick just to have her come in and give us that wonderful, warm cup of lemons, water and sugar. It was actually pretty smart of her and what KK refers to as 'the bitch mothers' to make all the neighborhood kids sit in a circle and share the Kool-Aid when the mumps started going around. They knew that mumps in particular and measles were dangerous the older you got and they wanted us to get those diseases while really young because then you were immune to them for the rest of your life. You can die from those diseases if you are old! These days kids are so protected from germs and normal airborn parasites that they have weak little immune systems that can't fight off the germs in a ladybug's sneeze. We, on the other hand, can get pneumonia and walk around telling everybody we have a temporary cough. And it's true.

So what have I learned from all of this? Three things stick out. Don't be afraid to let your kids roll around in the dirt...trust in the wisdom of old black women - and trust in Allah but tie up your camel.

Happy Easter,
SalGal

High Cholesterol

I picture cholesterol as tiny red potatoes that wind up in piles together as they pass through my blood veins. It's a disgusting thought and I've battled mightily with these tiny potatoes. Doctors advised me to change my diet, so I tried...I mean, I really tried...but I ain't giving up butter or cheese or pizza. I just can NOT do it. What is a world without butter? Especially if you've tried those butter substitutes...what is in THERE? It feels like a petroleum byproduct and tastes like old body lotion.

Because I hate doctors so much, I thought, "Well, I 'll show THEM. So off I went to the health/organic/bliss ninny store and was told by someone behind their pharmacy counter (who looked like he'd just come in from skateboarding in the mall parking lot) to take these Chinese herbs and that would just clear it right up...bring everything back into balance and harmony.

When next I had my cholesterol checked, the doctor asked me what I'd been doing with my diet and I told her that diet was an issue with me and something over which I had no control. "Well, now your bad cholesterol has shot straight up and off the charts and your good cholesterol has gone waaaaaaaaay down...is there something you're NOT telling me?"

I had to confess, but I couldn't even pronounce the name of the 'natural' herbal products I'd been taking. It was humiliating and she scolded me, threw me down on the cold linoleum floor in a head lock and calmly suggested that I do what she told me to do. May I just say, "I LOVE LIPITOR." Please don't tell me that there is anything wrong with this drug because I can eat whatever I want to now and these chemicals seek out the tiny potatoes blocking my veins and ZAP them into oblivion.

Listen, since there is a growing number on planet earth who think that 2012 is our last year here anyway, I mean ALL of us because the sun is going to blow up, I'll take my happiness while I can...come to think about it, I may start smoking again once they're sure about our future!

KK

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Oh, yes I am very happy that KK is taking Lipitor. I try to help with the meal plans too but I am also of the Julia Child school of cooking. It's not that I put butter on everything. It's just that if you are cooking a fillet Mignon you might as well saute it in butter because then you can add wine to the dregs and make a gravy in the pan that you can sop with the bread and potatoes and fried ochra. KIDDING!!!

One of you commented on how great garlic is and believe me I use lots of it. I also make sure we have blueberries, walnuts and tomatoes. KK and I like salads with parsley, radishes, celery, avocados and sometimes feta or blue cheese crumbles. We then use a little olive oil and tons of lemon juice. That's our favorite meal I think. We are lemon fanatics. We put it on everything. So don't you guys worry about us.

KK kids me because I like to eat white things; popcorn, vanilla yogurt...rich old white men. Vanilla yogurt is my favorite. I make it better by adding bananas, cinnamon and two cups of vodka. KIDDING!! but not really.

KK read in the paper the other day that broccoli is not good for people with thyroid problems which is what she has. That just doesn't seem right to me. Surely that can't be. We eat lots of broccoli and zuccini and yellow squash. We are very healthy and then we go to Jeffry's and top that off with martinis and Foie Gras.

We hope to be the Lipitor for your funny bone. Take our blog pill every day and email us in the morning. Laughter will make you live three weeks longer. That's what we believe
and we are sticking to it like butter to flour.

SalGal

Spring Has SPRUNG!

When we were making our Easter video in our BFF, Pam's garden, her next-door neighbor walked out with her toddler on her hip and said, "Well! Spring has certainly sprung at YOUR house!" Pam said, "Take that child back inside the house before he is scarred for life!" You see, Pam was the Easter bunny whom we had tied up in a chair. The look on that child's face was priceless, and I can just hear him telling his first girlfriend when he is fifteen that his first memory EVER was seeing the Easter bunny tied up in a chair with policemen torturing it. Hehehehe.....we live to serve, so if you're ever in need of scaring the crap outta your kids, just drop 'em off at our house and we'll take care of that for you.

SalGal and I are so excited that spring has come to central Texas. That is, we're happy in between all the tornado warnings and winds comin at us at 45 mph! March in Texas changes about every five minutes so we get a variety of conditions with which to deal. But, that wonderful early spring green is popping out all over, and I gasped when I saw my first bluebonnet beside the road the other day.

They're predicting a scorcher this summer. We got away with moidah last summer...not a single day over 100, but it's already been 95 here (last week), so.......those pansies from California or Yankees from the northern tundra who will be experiencing their first Austin summer are in for a BIG shocker when their flip-flops stick to the hot pavement, and the pavement itself becomes so soft you could scoop up a dollup and use it for chewing gum. You may not believe this, but our BFF actually used to do that when she was a kiddo growing up in southwest Louisiana!

To have a hot flash in August in Austin is to suffer a fate almost worse than DEATH! There is NO remedy that will help, and if you don't have to rush to the ER because you're having a friggin PANIC ATTACK from trying to cool off, then you're pulling your blouse wide open and blowing down your decolletage (if you got one...hell, even if you don't!). It's just a damn misery. There's no denying it.

But, here's the thing. I'd a whole lot rather just have to shed my blouse and bra than to have to get out of a coat, scarf, sweater, turtleneck camisole and bra in the winter...and you? I like to walk around without much on at all, truth be told. That's probably TMI for some of you, but it's not as bad as seeing The Ancient One nekkid. Lawdy, Lawdy!

Stay cool,
KK

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That's right, I am excited about spring in Austin but I'm not as excited about summer as KK is. She likes to be hot. Spring in Austin is so beautiful right now it's hard to believe that in a month or so when you walk out your door it's like walking into a preheated oven. You think you can make it to the car before your hair wilts but it's always too late. By the time the air conditioner really cools the interior of the car your nose is covered with beads of sweat, the bottoms of your thighs are stuck to the vinyl upholstery and your plastic hoop earrings have melted onto your shoulders.

And here's the thing that kills me. As you drive around town you see hundreds of people in outdoor restaurants. They sit under the trees at picnic tables and act like that 97 degree breeze is as refreshing as that flat beer that's been sitting there for only five minutes and they act like they are happy. I don't believe it. I have told KK that there will be no more outdoor concerts under the trees. She tells me it will be night time and therefor cooler but I've been here for a year now and I'm on to her. I know now that nine o'clock at night simply means the gnats are out, they're out of ribs and there's already throw-up in the trash-can next to the stage.

It's not that I like to be cold. I just hate that less than being hot. It's genetic in Texans. Like the fact that Texas women have to have painted toenails. That's just the way it is.

So...all I can do is enjoy this beautiful spring and all the colors, perfume scents and baby possums under the house. They prove that a 'baby anything' is cute. As soon as the temperature starts leveling out at 89 degrees the Austinites will feel safe enough to put their sweaters under the bed, turn their heaters off and put the plastic, Confederate Flag cushions back outside on the lawn furniture.

Get out the sun screen, mosquito spray and Margarita mix - summer is on its way!!
SalGal

There's No Turning Back!

If you've seen our Easter video
you will realize that we really do have too much time on our hands, so after we shot this video, we went to a lovely patio bar and got kinda liquored up. What ensued was a discussion about wrinkles...Our examples are the teacher pouch...you know...your teacher in school who always pointed to the blackboard and the under part of her arm flapped around, creating a force of wind that could fan those in the front row. We yukked it up over this one...

Then, our 'bunny' chimed in with her own rendition...and after a coupla more glasses of wine, the most unfairest of wrinkle subjects came up which are the chest wrinkles...and this only happens when you're old enough to actually HAVE cleavage. That is just WRONG!

You yung'uns have so much to look forward to. Actually you do, but this is not part of it. Except if we didn't have wrinkles, what would we laugh about? I mean, besides the extra fat around our middles, the pouches under our eyes, the gray in our hairs, oh, and fat flaps over our knees! YEEHAW! AGING AIN'T FOR PANSIES!

KK

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You know what, I'm not even going to try to pretend that the picture of the boobs isn't me because it is. Notice that I have to practically put my elbows together in order to get the boobs close enough together to even make a cleavage. That's because KK and I have never had a cleavage. Well, that's not true we have but our cleavage is about ten inches wide and sort of looks like the back of an alligator head. The skin would be smoother but the eyes sticking up out of the head would be about right.

The Ancient One's boobs are really scary. They hang down over her stomach like two half-filled water balloons hanging down over the side of a hot air balloon. So the hot air balloon would be upside down with the balloons over that if you want a pure visual of Ancient One. And the hot air balloon would be painted like multi-colored flowers because that's her favorite robe.

And notice how in the cleavage picture the little finger on my left hand is bent like a mannequin finger? That started happening about five years ago. It's a good thing I don't play the piano. My career would be over because my finger is permanently in that position. In order to make a 'Q' on my keyboard i have to turn my left hand so that the fingers point directly at the 'g'. Try it and you will see what i mean.

And see the knuckles on the index fingers where they join the palm of the hand? That's arthritis. Your knuckles get really big and look like chestnuts. That didn't really happen to The Ancient One but I'd rather have chestnut hands than elephant ankles which is what she has.

Like I said in my last post...'When you've seen the joke, you've seen the truth. It's okay. KK and I intend to age gracefully with upcoming appointments for botox injections and neck lifts. Did you see my neck wrinkles in that picture. Oh, my god you have to laugh.
SalGal

Thoughts on Winning and Losing

Is it really losing if you don't win? Damn Skippy! So, our names weren't called as the winner of last night's Greenlight Award for best series concept for our movie review videos. We had more fun than we thought we would. Even though we were tremendously OVER-DRESSED, we did look dinosaurically fabulous!

SalGal was just gobsmacked at the dirty jeans, tattoos, retro, unwashed hair and black that was so dirty and worn it looked gray. Those film kids! We did meet some very nice yung'uns at the festivities and the awards show, and I passed out so many of our cards that my wrist hurts this morning. We feel like winners because the last thing that was said to us (by the announcer of the winners) as we were leaving the theater was, "You all had a LOT of support from inside the company." And, that just makes me giggle at the visual of those serious people watching our Marie Antoinette video and falling off their chairs laughing! So, we really did win.

You know, Reese Witherspoon is upset, and we should always pay attention to her, don't you think? She's upset and we are too at the fact that children now-a-days never lose anything. They're given a medal or trophy just for 'effort.' Reese said that losing her bid to become a cheerleader in high school helped to shape her life and bring her perspective. Although I don't know exactly how she felt because she was short, blonde, beautiful and perky in high school, I'm sure....I too tried out for the cheerleading squad in junior high school and not only lost but was mocked and reminded that at 5 feet 9 inches, 13 years old, braces, 110 pounds dripping wet and an arm span that rivaled a sandhill crane...I lost by several votes. That helped to shape my life as well, truly. I had to learn how to be funny to get the attention I wanted. How'm I doin with that? Hehehe.

SalGal and I have had our share of wins in our lives. The Ancient One was more likely to dole out the 'well-dones' if we won a swim race or gymnastic routine when we were yung'uns, and truth be told, we do have a BIT of a competitive streak, so we're moving 'onward through the fog' in search of a win at these blogging, video, book categories we now find ourselves in. We'll be sniffin' out the trophies, accolades and...oh, yeah...MONEY, cuz we certainly haven't seen much of THAT for these efforts yet. But, 'Something's coming, something good!'

Thanks for your support of our insanity!

KK

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We were not overly dressed we were properly dressed and we looked fabulous. Every one of those filmmakers ought to be ashamed of themselves. They looked like as soon as the award show was over they were going to go back home to the back seats of their cars.

As I said to KK the minute she told me we had been nominated as one of the four finalists, 'We have already won!!' The people at ONNetworks love us and that is just a validation of our superb talents as writers, comediennes and allround lovers of highjinks, tomfoolery and pretty restaurant bathrooms. We think of ourselves as winners and therefor we are. We didn't win this particular award given by the obviously homeless people and that just means the universe has something really magnificent in store for us!!

Losers are people who walk around with their heads down looking at the cracks in the world and that's not us. We look up at the sun on our faces and use SP45. When we are given lemons we go buy caviar and water crackers. Here's the thing...when you've seen the joke, you've seen the truth. WE are here to make you laugh and if we have managed to do that then we win.

Gotta go because we are preparing to make our Easter video and the Easter Bunny is out hiding in our back yard. He's got some splainin' to do...later,
SalGal

Balancing Acts

So, do any of you out there actually balance your checkbooks anymore? I still get out my pencil, make the column of numbers for my outstanding checks on the back of the last page of my statement, add them, add any new deposits (this is rare), subtract, yada, yada, yada. See? I'm getting bored just talking about it. I have learned to just trust the bank. It's probably like trusting the casino in which you've just dropped a grand at the blackjack table...but then, the house always wins, right. That's why they can charge you FOUR dollars to use a friggin ATM machine.

I lost my balance and sprained my ankle the other afternoon whilst Sal and I were having our regular lollygag through the neighborhood. I was saying something tacky about a house that we were passing, and WHACK! I did the ESSSS bend, with my bent ankle bending one way and the rest of my body fighting my downward projection while bending the opposite direction to keep me upright. Of course, I looked down at the ground to see what sort of mayhem the street was up to to cause me such pain, and I had tripped over a large pebble or a very small rock...either way you look at it, my balance had been upended by a tiny little thing! And, when I bent back around to straighten my body I pulled something in my back. SHEESH! Twenty years ago, I'd have sprung back to balance like a deer jumping a tumbleweed, but as it happened, Sal had to help me back home, all the while having a great deal of amusement at my expense!

Sal and try to balance our time spent caregiving the Ancient One with our time spent out in the loving arms of our bosom buddies drinking cocktails and laughing our asses off! We feel refreshed (even though we've had to weave through a hangover or three)...bullet proof for whatever shenanigans the Ancient One has up the sleeves of her robe. For ANYone who walks in our caregiving shoes, these exercises in laughter and merriment outside the confines of the home are VITAL FOR YOUR MENTAL HEALTH!

Sal and I are balancing our weight right now too. We quit smoking on October 28, 2007 at 11:59 pm, and have put on a pound or seven, so we have to spend each day by compensating either for what we're about to eat or what we already ate which requires our next meal to consist of 3 soda crackers. I'm tired of grapes and apples. I want a Sonic hickory cheeseburger, large fries and a Cherry Limeade. This has your jaw glands squirting with desire, doesn't it? Well, it's going to have to be grapes and apples for me today because I was a baaaaad girl last night.

Ah, the balance! My ankle is mending nicely. Just thanking you in advance for your concern.

KK
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I like to keep my right brain and my left brain balanced as much as I can. As you probably know, the right brain holds your subconscious mind, your emotions, senses (sight, smell, hearing etc.) and your imagination. Your left brain is for analyzing and spelling and counting and running your bodily organs. Just think if only your left brain worked- you'd be up shit creek.
You wouldn't be able to hear or smell or be happy or sad but you'd always know how many steps there were to the toilet. That's a good thing but it seems that all the fun is in the right brain. Unless you were an accountant...or maybe brick layer.

Wow, if only your right brain worked you'd be just as screwed. You could drink wine and taste the bounty of the earth and imagine other worlds but your liver and kidneys would shut down and you wouldn't be able to figure out how to catch the bus. See, you've got to have them both.

I like to balance responsibilities with pleasure. If the deck is watered and the cats are fed, I can have a glass of wine. If the trash is out and The Ancient One is fed, I feel free to dance to Garth Brooks songs... and if KK has her tea, I am free to sneak into the garage and gnaw on pork rhinds. It's all relative and a balancing act.

Keep your balance,
SalGal

Inflatable Husband

Wow! After having three real ones, I received an inflatable husband for my birthday from...guess who? He is absolutely adorable! He's only 3 ft tall which so reminds me of my second husband, whom I still refer to as Little Big Man, and he is mute which was so like my Mr. One.



I don't have to be concerned with Steve McQueen's (that's what I have named my new inflatable hubbie) going off to play golf without me, farting, burping or engaging in sleep apnea while on my left in the bed. Steve McQueen is incredibly low maintenance and requires no effort on my part whatsoever.

My only complaint about Steve McQueen is that he does NOT resemble the HUNK illustration on the box in which he arrived all flat and squishy. His lips are waaaaaay too big and there are no spaces between any of his teeth...kind of like he has just one horizontal tooth that goes all across his mouth. He has only about 38 hairs painted on his chest, and they painted them down around his belly button which also serves as the nozzle for blowing him......up!

I am already besotted with my Stevie McQueen, and here's the thing...he loves me UNCONDITIONALLY. I can just feel it beneath the plastic. I am including the actual "Warnings and Precautions" section for your amusement:
"Warning: This is not THAT type of inflatable and therrefore coitus is not recommended (I've forgotten what coitus means).
Do not bring your inflatable into contact with members of the psychiatric profession (especially if you've given him a name)."

OOPS!

kk

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I think it is obvious why I felt the need to get KK a blowup husband. The woman grows more desperate by the day. Just this morning I caught her taking a shower with Steve McQueen. I'm sorry but this is a waste of shampoo.

I think Steve McQueen would make a great airplane pillow but then your head would best go between his legs and that would look weird. I think I will go to the kiddie store and buy him an outfit. I could get him some jeans and little cowboy boots and maybe a little t-shirt. Then we could take him out. As it is now, he is not presentable. We probably can't take him out with us anyway. His eyes make him look sort of like a pervert.

I'm a little worried about him when Buddy is around. It is not general knowledge but my cat, Buddy loves men. When they come over he likes to do figure 8's through their legs and he tries to nose them into petting him. They do and then Buddy grabs them with his teeth and even sometimes nibbles them. You can imagine what would happen to KK's new husband if Buddy discovered him. Luckily, KK has him (Steve not Buddy) stuck up between the wall and the book case but still....

Having a blowup husband around is like owning a car. They take up too much room in the garage, you have to name them and hosing them down in the driveway is embarrassing.

SalGal

Aliens Among Us!!

Why do we use the word 'alien' for both Martian creatures with green, slimy skin and REALLY big heads AND anyone who isn't from America, but who lives here or wants to??

Another conundrum for me. Isn't everyone an alien really? I mean, I just don't think this planet was meant to have humans on it in the first place. Look how we've fucked it up, for pity's sake! Even the Native Indians in America came from somewhere else, right. They didn't just pop up in New Mexico or Arizona. A long time ago, one of them living in South America or Russia said to her parents, "Fuck you! I AM going to marry Wushnu, and we're leaving!!!" Then, they found their way to our neck of the woods, had a baby who had two babies and the rest is our history.

Seems simple to me. And, I have to tell you that I DO believe in extraterrestrials! There are just waaaaaaay too many 'normal' people who have seen them and even be kidnapped by them! Lest you think I'm completely insane, I do NOT believe that their skin is green and slimy or that their heads are REALLY big, but only the human abductees know, and they're too messed up by it to sound believable.

It makes me laugh at the thought of how we all want to live in a wonderful town, but when anyone else wants to move to our town, it's "Lock the doors! Don't let'em in!" I feel that way about all the young Californians who have moved to our town. They honk in traffic and drive too fast and don't say thank you and sound funny when they speak. They want our town to be more like California. We're too set in our ways arount hyar, I reckon, but bring 'em own, we'll put boots on 'em and toughen 'em up till they're usin' bob-wire for dental floss!!

I say, come one, come all, but please don't honk!

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I know, I know you think Californians are aliens, KK but did you ever think that maybe it's the other way around? When I moved here from Hollywood exactly one year ago it felt like I was on another planet. Culture shock for a die-hard lover of all things Hollywood. You Texans seemed like aliens to me. I found myself in a land where people are patient of blue-haired drivers, Mexican food doesn't involve truffles and cats live freely outside. You were the aliens, not I.

First of all, it seems that every one here in Austin who is complaining about all of the changes downtown, the huge cranes going up like giant praying mantises and the condo mania is blaming it all on the Californians. Hey, you guys let this happen and to tell you the truth, I love it. I see opportunity in every direction. I like the energy of the city, it makes me want to get dressed up in Ralph Lauren, blue striped shirts and pearls and take a meeting. It makes me want to make a cold-call to Sandra Bullock and ask her if she wants my recipe for chitlins.

I am an alien because I realized on about my third day here that I'm a Texan too. After 28 years in New Mexico and then six in Hollywood, I had simply forgotten. It all came back to me when I realized that the water in Barton Springs isn't too cold for me, the salsa at Maude's isn't too hot for me and I never really liked acting like 'a professional' in the first place. I'm just gonna stay here in Austin from now on and be an alien with you guys. It's more fun than a barrel of armadillos.
SalGal