Nyquil Bender

I've had a cold and flu for over a week. My body is working overtime producing mass quantities of slime to the point where I'm investigating possibilities for creating biodiesel from phlegm. I started tossing back Nyquil straight from the bottle and completely ignoring the little measuring cup, and went through the entire bottle rather quickly. I've heard this is what teenagers resort to when they want to get drunk, but I don't feel drunk--I feel the phlegm factory slowing down production and I want to take a nap.

So when a good friend, who happens to be very LDS, called today to ask if she could pick up anything from the store for me, I said that yes, I'd like some Nyquil, please, the old-fashioned liquid kind. I sensed a brief hesitation before she said, "The kind with alcohol in it?" She is SO cute. Yes, I assured her, that was exactly the kind I wanted, although I was desperate enough that I could be convinced to try something along the lines of cough syrup with Codeine, or maybe chocolate-covered Percocet?

Despite my sickness, I've had to drag myself through several engagements I couldn't miss. Yesterday I had to take my annual CPR certification and I nearly passed out doing five rounds of 30 chest compressions--it's a good thing it wasn't a real-life emergency situation or someone would be in the morgue about now--a victim of the wheezing woman with Kleenex stuffed up her sleeves and the stank of 20 proof Nyquil on her breath.

Afterwards I had to head to the bank and then Kinkos to notarize, copy, and FedEx a large packet of papers requesting that I please be allowed to pay $375 to take a certification exam I'm not completely sure I need. Michael was downtown for a meeting and, knowing my state of mind of late, he dropped by to see if he could help. I was worried I'd missed something in the mass of papers strewn around me. Practical as ever, he suggested scanning a copy of everything into a PDF file, just in case I needed quick access later.

Now, here's where I discovered just one of the many reasons why Kinkos is the devil. Michael has a really neat, super-fast scanner in his office that can scan 55 pages a minute. (Oh no, don't even go there. If there's one thing Michael has in large supply, it's integrity, and there will be no personal scanning on the company equipment, even if the wife offers intimate favors that she does not often put on the bargaining table.) Kinkos has two scanning options: either they charge you $6.95 PER PAGE to stand behind the counter and scan it for you on their own really neat, super-fast scanner, which the public is not allowed to use, or you can log onto a computer that bills you by the minute and scan it yourself on a device so slow that I'm convinced if you opened the back, you'd find a wee small artist inside, recreating each page by hand in #2 pencil.

Finally we got organized, mailed the package, and headed out to the parking lot. While backing up my car, however, I failed to see the giant SUV clearly parked behind me and slammed smack into it. The SUV suffered not one single scratch, but my car no longer has any lights on the left rear side. Michael handled the situation with grace and didn't even use one swear word. He even remained calm while picking up the red and orange plastic pieces littering the ground and put them all in my back seat. He did ask me later if I'd like him to pick up a six-pack of Nyquil for the weekend. It's always a party at the Eldridge household.

Today my good friend Cheryl made up for it all, however, by showing up at my door with flowers, her adorable five-year old daughter, and not one, but TWO bottles of alcoholic liquid Nyquil. I am now off to take a nap, grateful for friends who will buy me pseudo-booze despite their better judgment.

Overheard this AM at the coffee drive thru...

Barista Girl #1: Can you believe that? I mean, DUDE. They're gonna split the state in HALF.

Barista Girl #2: Omigod! No way. Can they do that?

Barista Girl #1: Yeah! We're actually gonna succeed from the Union!

Barista Girl #2: (shaking head in disbelief) Dude. Oregon is so small already.

Editor's note: First of all, Oregon is the tenth largest state in the U.S. Second of all, while there is indeed a small grassroots group who want to split Oregon into two separate states, there is no talk of succeeding, or SECEDING, from the Union.

Update: My apologies. There is actually a group of folks who wish to "explore the peaceful possibilities of creating a Nation of Pacifica, including Alaska, California, Hawaii, Idaho, Oregon, Washington, Baja California, and British Columbia." Idaho? Really?

Nuts

"He wants his nuts back," she said, exhaling in exasperation.

"Pardon?" Michael is speaking to a family friend who helped Little Richard pack (bless her good-hearted soul forever and ever, Amen.) She has called to vent. That she has done so is surprising. Grounded and calm, this woman knows how to raise a pig, slaughter the pig, and use every single part of the pig to feed her family. She is tough. Unflappable. Not a venter.

"The pecans! He wants me to pack them up and send them BACK to him."

Hmmm, not good. See, in the golden years of their retirement, my parents wintered in Southern Utah. Thin-shelled pecans thrive there, and Little Richard loved to "shake a tree" and gather the fallen nuts. For years he shelled them while watching television or hanging with the feral cats on the porch, and stored them in the freezer. He gave them away in half-pound bags as gifts of thanks and appreciation. If you got a fresh batch (read: less than three years in the freezer), they were delicious. Anyway, while preparing for the move, he realized he had to empty the freezer, and gave a large portion of pecans to this woman, ostensibly as a gesture of gratitude. But things changed: now that he's making new friends in his new town, he has no nuts to give, pa-rum-pa-pum-pum. True to form, he put out a re-call, and I'll betcha an Arby-Q (his favorite) that he didn't give it a second thought.

Nuts.

Since Little Richard returned to Deseret, I've found myself trying to make my peace with him, or at least with my memories, because it's doubtful he and I will ever do the big father/daughter Lifetime Movie reconciliation. But one thing I've accepted completely is that my dad is eccentric, hard to get along with, and difficult to understand. For some of you who know him, that's making a gross understatement and I thank you for your empathy. For others, here are a few examples of how his mind appears to work:

Method of dining out: Wait until everyone else is ready to leave the house. Decide quality time in bathroom is suddenly essential. Take newspaper. Allow cat to sit on lap. Talk to cat. Read paper to cat. When encouraged to hurry, holler out a good-natured "I'M A-COMIN'!" several times in a row. Never appear rushed. Fill hallway with ungodly smell that ruins everyone's appetite. Insist on dining at The Hometown Buffet.

Method of healthy eating: Pick large quantity of plums for mother to dry and bottle. Keep half a dozen or so in pants' pocket at all times to help with digestion and elimination (see previous paragraph.) Allow fruit to mingle freely with keys and spare change. Generously offer to share with others while blowing on fruit to remove pocket lint. Rest assured no one will ever take you up on your offer.

Method of cleaning ears: Wait until at least one family member is present, along with one non-family member. Use car key to get at ear wax. Examine key. Peek at family member(s) out of corner of eye to see if properly mortified. Laugh as though on moonshine bender.

Method of vacationing: Wait until everyone else is packed and in car. Decide to check engine. Search through garage of horrors looking for 1040 oil. Discover old sweater under pile of tires. Reminisce over old sweater and fact it still fits. Exhibit dismay with family's impatience and lack of sweater admiration. Become increasingly annoyed when family exits sweltering car. Insist everyone get back inside. Commence yelling. More yelling. Once everyone is back in car and thoroughly aggravated, assume pious attitude and ask who would like to offer pre-vacation prayer.

Method of attending church: Wait until everyone is dressed and ready to leave. Race into bedroom to change into church clothes. Ponder which bolo tie to wear--the Tiger Eye or the Agate? Suggest family walk to church together. Become irritable when family resists due to fact they are already late. Use drive to church as chance to deliver grim preach about family togetherness and threaten family to change attitude or else. Change own attitude from ornery to giddy immediately upon seeing first non-family member. Ignore simmering family resentment.

Bolo Tie, African Jade Concho Style

Method of cleaning under fingernails: During church service, pull out pocket knife and open small blade. Ignore elbow jab in ribs from family member(s) who know what's next. Slide tip of blade under nail, making slow scraping sound. Repeat. Nine. More. Times.

Method of greeting house guest(s): "COMETH THEE IN!" Repeat enthusiastically 2-3x while leading guest(s) into living room. Show guest(s) large glass jar of popcorn kernels on coffee table. Explain popcorn is favorite treat and homegrown. Shake jar and insist guest(s) guess how many kernels are in jar. Demonstrate kernel removal by vigorously rubbing two dried cobs together. Explain formula for answer: X = number of kernels on average cob. Y = number of cobs it took to fill one jar. X times Y = Little Richard's self-satisfied guess. Grin like dotty old man from down the holler.

Method of showing appreciation: Five nights a week, come home from work. Eat dinner. Emphatically pronounce "You shall be RICHLY rewarded!" to mother, who presses lips together until they disappear. Order daughter(s) to help with dishes. Make comments from table regarding how mother spoils daughter(s) and carries them 'round on velvet pillows. Remain seated at table carping ad nauseum to make sure ungrateful daughter(s) follow through. Do not say thank you. To do so will diminish your place as head of the household.

So you see what I'm saying? He's odd. Egocentric. A bit irascible. Harmless for the most part; well-intentioned, even. But very possibly nuts. Speaking of which, Michael tells our friend that she's under no obligation to return the pecans to Little Richard, but she feels guilty and is unsure of what to do. We're both pretty sure she'll be making a trip to the post office soon, which is also nuts.

Happy Happy Joy Joy

The hives are still torturing me, but last night I was actually able to sleep. This is because yesterday I pestered my doctor until she gave in and prescribed something. It was that or head for urgent care. When I first saw her on Monday, she told me to take Benadryl and hot showers instead of meds, because the side effects would be worse than the actual hives. Is it not SO EASY for doctors to calmly throw that kind of crap at you while you're scratching your inflamed, red, and itching flesh into ribbons? Are you with me here, people?

No, this is not a photo of me. A) that's a guy's arm, and B) I am far too irritable to photograph myself for you. His hives are similar to mine, though.

No, what puts a spring in my step today is the fact that the trailer for the "Sex In The City" movie is out. Come June, THE GIRLS ARE BACK!!! I've never quite forgiven Sarah Jessica Parker for walking away (not only was she the star of the show, but also one of the producers, and the person responsible for it's early demise) but for now she's back in my good graces.

My favorite TV show. Ever.

My girlfriends from college were/are a tight-knit group, and we shared everything with each other. Let me say that again: Ev. Ry. Thing. The time spent together laughing, discussing details about guys, relationships, clothes, and whatever else came to mind was something I missed desperately when I moved away, and SITC was like a comfy security blanket for me--an awesome reminder of my good fortune in friendship.

Since then I've made new friends and kept the old (because as they say at girls' camp "one is silver and the other gold.") Come June, I'll be in line with one or more of my friends to check out SITC: The Movie, and hopefully it'll be as good as it was on TV. It better be, or SJP is back on my blacklist. The hives will be gone, though, so there is that.