My niece (turned 3 in March) and my nephew (turned 1 in March) are in town, staying with my parents.  I took two days off work to maximize my blog material with them.  My niece does not disappoint.

1.  We took Little Filthy for a walk.  As we were walking along, my niece said, “What’s that hole?”  I looked on the grassy ground surrounding us.  No holes.  I said, “What hole?”  She pointed.  “What’s that hole?”

She was pointing at Little Filthy’s backside.   As you may know, Little Filthy is a pug mix and that means his tail curls up and sits on his back, leaving his exit door exposed.  I said, “Oh…that’s…” and trying to be sensitive to what words to use, I used a word in another language with which she’s familiar.  My niece said, “Ohhh…that’s his butt.”

2.  My sister asked me if I could make a run to pick up some diapers for my nephew.  I said of course.  I was writing down what to get (because, did you know, diapers are numbered?  Like pencil lead?):  #4 diapers and baby lotion.  I said, “Cool. Anything else?”  My sister said, “God, I need a stiff drink.  Or wine.  Get a bottle of wine.”  My sister and her husband are oenophiles.

There is a Wal-Mart just a half mile or so from my parents’ home so I decided to head there.  Right to the back where I grabbed diapers and then over a few aisles where I found baby lotion.  As I walked back toward the front, I saw an aisle with beer and wine.  I decided to at least check out what they had.  I found a Cab that looked decent and grabbed it.

Now, somewhere in the 10 or so yards I walked to the cashier, I realized that there I was…in Wal-Mart walking with diapers and baby lotion in one hand…and alcohol in the other.  My own sense of propriety made me flinch a little but I tried not to give it another thought.  That is, until the guy behind me in line said, “Diapers!  And alcohol!” and the burst out laughing.

Annnnnd my shame is complete.

My sister is an interesting mix of prim/proper and back alley craps game.   She balances between flying on the corporate jet and then telling me that she’s going to show her kids the movie Mystic River so that they never run away.    She’s extremely ethical and always tries to do the right thing.  Except for that Black Market Baptism (which happened).  She doesn’t swears or says a harsh word calls people charming names like coo-coo bean and quirky bird.  But she will say that her kid can smell weakness in a nanny like a wolf smells sheep.

She was prim/proper sister when she called me to tell me the following story.  My niece (who is almost 3), was digging around in my sister’s purse.  She pulled something out, held it up and said to my sister, “What is this?”

My sister looked at it and said, “Put that away, my love.” (She calls her kids ‘my love’ a lot.)

Niece: “Can I open it? What is it?”

My sister then relayed to me that it was, and I quote, “a certain feminine product.”  I like that she compared her kid giving up diapers to pulling someone from a line of coke but doesn’t want to say the word ‘tampon’.

She said, “That’s something just for mommies.”

My niece, knowing that my sister wears contact lenses and that daddy does not, said, “Ohh.  Are these contact lenses?”

My sister gave in and said, “Yes.”

My niece said, “Ohh.  Do you want me to open it and put it in your eye?”

My sister said, “No.”

I can’t wait to see this backfire on my sister.

I have tried to continue with that random act of kindness stuff.  So far, I’ve bought coffee or a bagel for the person ahead or behind me in a line.  I gave up on the idea of complimenting people randomly because I figured I’d come off as a weirdo whereas people are generally not too offended if you buy them a bagel.  It’s like the international symbol of peace.  Free bagel!  Free coffee!  And my other routine is to give my handwarmers to the same homeless woman I pass on the same corner as I walk to the office.  By that time, I’m only a few blocks from the office and they’re good for another couple of hours so it makes sense to give them away.  If she’s not there, I give them to a street cop or our doorman at the office.

Besos and I went out to eat the other night at a Vietnamese restaurant because she was craving Pho.  Four young men came into the restaurant and sat down at the table next to ours.  They grinned and pointed to things at the menu, curious and eager to try something new.  One of them caught my eye and asked what I was eating and then said it looked good.  They were polite to the Vietnamese woman who came to take their order, despite her clearly not fully understanding them as they ordered in a bit of disarray.  I watched them a bit.  Very young.  I liked that they seemed a friendly bunch.  I looked up at Besos and said, “Should I do a random act of kindness?”  She said, “I don’t know what you mean.”  I said, “I’m leaving it to you.”  She said, “Then I have to say yes.”  So I went up to the cashier and paid for their dinner. I hadn’t meant for her to say anything to them and Besos and I were preparing to leave but the server/cashier went to their table and told them I paid.  They looked up at me in surprise and thanked me.

Turns out they are all in the military.  For some reason, that just choked me up a little.  I don’t even know these young kids but my skeptic heart said a little prayer for them.

Besos got the oil changed in her car today.  She promptly went home and sent me a text message to say that she was watching porn.  I said, “That’s how I celebrate all of my oil changes.  You should see what I do when I get my tires rotated.”  She’d had a bummed out day and decided that watching porn would cheer her up.  I mentioned that she could watch porn to cheer me up, as well.

We then had a conversation about porn.  Before I go into that, I’d like to note that two things really bother me about porn:

1) listening to some dude breathe through his teeth

and

2) all the spitting that goes on.

First, dude, it’s obvious you’re enjoying yourself.  But you’re making porn…and the point is for me to enjoy myself.  So I don’t want to listen to you hiss air through your teeth the entire time.  It distracts me from the woman.  Okay?

Second…there’s an awful lot of spitting that goes on in porn.  I’ve never spit on a woman.  On any part of a woman.  I’m pretty sure it might earn me a less than favorable reaction.  That’s not to say that spit doesn’t have its place and, indeed, uses in the act…just, you know, I’m not insulting her genitalia like it’s my evil step-father’s grave so I don’t spit on it like it offends me.  But I digress.

So we talked about porn and Besos saw fit to give me this tidbit:  “I just wish they’d skip the storyline and cut to the chase.”  I’m sure I laughed or paused or something because then she said in an informational librarian tone:  “Pornos have these…weak storylines…”

I said, “I love how you’re telling me this.”

I had earlier mentioned some movies I had DVR’d.  Most of them were action flicks.  Besos said, “I’ll make a deal with you.  I’ll watch those movies with you if you watch porn with me.”

*Blink*

Dude.  For reals?  How about this….you can throat punch me and I’ll watch porn with you.  Or you can poke me in the eye and I’ll watch porn with you.  Or you can give me papercuts between my fingers…and I’ll watch porn with you.  Is this really something we need to negotiate?

Okay, bedroom secret time.  You know how common sayings are particularly funny when they come out of the mouth of someone with English as a second language and they are used in a slightly unusual way?  Well, sometimes, after I’ve chased Besos around the couch a number of times and captured her on more than one occassion, she will clap her hands over herself and say, “CLOSED FOR BUSINESS. I am CLOSED FOR BUSINESS.”

Which really makes me laugh.

Anyway, so spill it.  Lay a bedroom secret on me.

p.s.  I discussed with Besos before posting this.  I’m not entirely stupid, for God’s sake.

I’m going to go visit my sister in New Jersey.  Let me draw a little distinction between me and my sister.

Sister:  Two perfect children, one girl, one boy.

Random: Little Filthy, dog that eats own poo.

Sister:  “I’ll be flying in from a quick business trip on the day you arrive but it won’t take me long to get home because I’ll be on the corporate jet.”

Random:  “Damn, where did I put my CTA (Chicago public transportation) card??”

Sister:  “The driver will pick you up from the airport.”

Random:  “Damn! Where is that freakin’ card??”

Sister:  “The nanny will be there with the children.”

Random:  “Oh, don’t try to take his toy away!  He’ll hump it.”

Sister:  Daughter currently speaks 3 languages.  She’s 2 1/2.

Random:  Dog currently knows how to not listen in one language.  He’s 4.

The kids are going to be baptized on Saturday.  You may recall, it is going to be a Black Market Baptism, with the Priest who is going all out Sarah Palin style and going rogue to do the baptism on the side.  I wonder if I’m not supposed to look him in the eye.

With that, I’m off to take Little Filthy to stay with his grandparents.  I won’t even go into the worries I have about his behavior while there.  I fully expect him to lay an egg on the dining room rug, eat everything he finds, and leave hairballs in his wake.

More news from NJ shortly!

1.  My niece saw raisins for the first time last week.  She picked up the bowl and took it to my sister and said, “These grapes are dead.”

My sister called me two nights ago.  I answered the phone and heard my niece say, “Hello!”  My sister said, in the background, “Tell Random what you did today.”  Niece said, “I got a haircut.”  I said, “Oh! That’s great. Getting a haircut is great!”  My sister said, “Tell Random who cut your hair.”

She said, “I did.”

I burst out laughing.  I said, “Ohhh, that’s just for grownups.  Only grownups cut hair.  You’re not going to do that again, are you?”

She paused and said, “I don’t know.  I might.”

God, I love how honest kids are.

2.  I had bacon in my fridge so I decided to make breakfast for dinner last night.  Except I didn’t want eggs.  Then it hit me…I had tomato and some Boston lettuce.  BLT!  I’m a dry sandwich eater.  No mayo or mustard or whatever.  But on a BLT?  You need mayo.  I found a squeeze bottle of Hellman’s that had about one tablespoon used out of the entire thing.  Anddddd it expired 8 months ago.   Then I found some Miracle Whip.  Guess what?  November 5, 2008!  TWO MORE DAYS!

And it occurs to me…BLTs are the only sandwich on which I’m not tempted to slap on a slice of cheese.  I wonder why that is?  That made me think of hamburgers and how I really don’t understand the point unless it has a slice of cheese on it.  I’ve never had cheese on a slice of apple pie.  Who the hell came up with that one?  Though, now that I think about it, I do normally have slices of apples or pears to serve along with bread and cheese when drinking wine.  Still, cheese on apple pie seems odd to me.

3.  You know who isn’t impressed with this Standard Time?  Little Filthy.  He began protesting at 3 o’clock yesterday.  By 4:30, he was still demonstrating so I gave in and fed him.  He’s in for a harsh reality today when I get home after 5.  Of course, he’s going to watch the polls all day so he may not notice.

1.  You may recall that The Ballerina is known for saying things no one else would say.  The other day, we were talking about bosses and managing people and how it can be difficult and she said this:

“Yeah…you gotta own that shit…

…like a lazy eye.”

*Blink*

I think I coughed on my coffee.

2.  The Italian and his girlfriend have parted ways.  We were discussing this and somehow, the topic of faces came up.  (You know…like, how women have 75 different looks and 73 of them mean stop what you’re doing right now.)  The Italian said he has a face.  I asked what it was.  He said, “The please fuck me face.  It’s a look that says, ‘Please fuck me. I would be oh-so-appreciative if you would.’”  Then he laughed until he coughed.

3.  I think I’m finally ready to date seriously.  Those of you who know me know that I’ve sort of fought it tooth and nail but that’s over.  And I’m pretty damn happy about that.  Obviously, though, my behavior had to change.  While on the phone with Besos tonight, we were laughing about how I’ve just become comfortable with the idea of dating seriously.

I said, “You broke me!”

She said, with a fair bit of indignation, “What did you say?”

I said, “I said you broke me!”

She snorted and said, “No…I fixed you.”

Last night, I attended an anniversary party for a French restaurant of which I’m rather fond.  The Seattle folks ate there while in town visiting.  The theme of the party?  S&M Burlesque.  The best part?  It was a charity fund raiser for schools.  Let me tell you right now, folks, if all school fundraisers were like this, I’d be broke.  The kitchen poured out food, drinks were available at multiple bars and the eye candy…was plentiful.  Here are some shots of the evening.

Oh yeah…there was food there, too.

Funniest part of the night – in the last picture after the cut, you’ll see a tall, striking blonde woman.  She was approached by a middle aged man who introduced himself and then said, “What’s your name?”  She said, “Gigi.”  His response?

“Where’d you go to college?”

I can’t help it.  I laughed out loud.

More food, drink, and eye candy pictures after the cut. (more…)

Do you ever hear a song and for some odd reason, you recognize it and it strikes you right then as awesome?  And you want to play it for your friends and say, “Remember this song? It’s awesome.”  And you go purchase it on iTunes and then a month later, you’re like, “Seriously?”

Seriously.  Welcome to my latest download: Kenny Loggin’s  Whenever I call you “friend”

Sweet love’s showin’ us a heavenly light
Never seen such a beautiful sight
See love glowing on us every night
I know forever we’ll be doing it, doing it

WTF.

Skip to 1:06 or 2:57 to see what’s going through my head.  Is that the most ridiculous video you’ve ever seen?

Honestly, I might have been better off pondering toothpaste and Dolly Parton.

1.  I like my job a lot but I think it’s funny that sometimes, I honestly have the cliched thought of, “Thank God it’s Friday.”   I don’t know why that surprises me since it’s such a common sentiment that an entire chain of restaurants is named after it.  Drew Carey said, “Oh, you hate your job? Why didn’t you say so?  There’s a support group for that. It’s called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar.”

2.   I watched the Republican National Convention last night with a group of friends.  When I expressed that I would shag Palin, I got looks of horror.  Now, see here, people, I’m not saying I’d marry the woman.  There’s a general rule:  F*ck down, Marry up.  Okay?  I just wanna shag her a little.  That’s all.  I AM NOT IMMUNE.

3.   Have you ever spent some time with your parents and gotten this brief glimpse of some personality characteristic that you suddenly realize is only going to magnify as they get older?  And it scares the crap out of you?