So Roxanne and I go to Cost Plus to pick up this damned headboard, and of course we have to "debox" it to even get it in the car. Had it been one inch wider, mom would have had to settle for a sawed in half headboard. We both needed cigarettes, so we stopped at the Walgreens - of course only ONE checker and a 4,000 year old lady in front of us, making sure the prices were correct, writing a check very slowly - 20 minutes later, we're on our way.
We hit the freeway and the sign says "accident ahead". Of course. Nothing goes smoothly in my life. Now even the freeways are laughing at me. Fortunately, Goddess of the Road Roxanne knows back ways. She's barreling down the freeway and I'm braking into the floor boards. This woman takes no prisoners. And I'm strapped in the passenger seat, holding the strap for dear life. Where is my beer anyway? Where ARE my tranquilizers. The whole trip I'm bitching about the "change of life" sequence that has me sweating like a pig regardless of movement. I'm sitting in the car, window down and dripping sweat. Black Cohash is not what it's made out to be. My undies are sticky, and I hate that! Roxanne looks like a runway model, I look like I've spent the ride in a steam chamber.
We get to Cost Plus and make the guy take the whole thing out of the box. Twist it here, twist it there, finally get it in the back. All the while we're ragging on people, discussing teenagers (Rox has two), how they should bring back beatings while you are raising teenagers (kidding) and having a great time. Roxanne knows a lot about a lot of things. I'm learning more and more from this street smart woman. Maybe next she'll show me how to use a switchblade.
Delivery to mom's. My brother unloads without the normal bitching because Rox is there. Mom tries to press money in her hand, Rox refuses (she's so cool - takes no handouts from old ladies). I PROMISE that I will give the money back to mom Rox, minus taxes and dock fees and another pack of cigarettes.
We cooked up the Chicago pizza and ate it. It was good - did you California girls realize that they build their pizzas backwards? Cheese and meat on the bottom, sauce on top. We're not sure that we could give up our processed food pizzas, but this one was pretty damned good. I think next time, now that I have a catalog, I'll order the famous Chicago ribs. Or the Italian meat sandwiches. Or the pie. Damn you for including a catalog!!
We talked way too much about way too many subjects - we get on rolls and jump from one thing to another - I'd say Rox has a short attention span, but dammit, it's really me. But you don't know that so I'll say Rox does. We have now solved all of the problems of the world, so you no longer have to worry about ANYTHING. We've got it covered. And the fact that Rox could kick my ass from here into next year, I'll agree with whatever she says as long as she promises not to hurt me. She's promising to teach me confidence skills if I promise not to reveal any real special secrets. People think I don't back down from a fight - always be glad if I don't ask Rox to participate. She's out for blood. Or diamonds, I forget which, but she'll get them, regardless.
I got roped into going to the casino with mom tomorrow - something I really hate - but hey, she's my mom and gives me money to spend. Nothing like pretending you're excited to be pulling slot handles. The thrill of my day tomorrow.
Our next project (Rox and me) is to write bios for each other for match.com to see if we can find some men to harass and have buy us stuff. Any suggestions for my bio would be considered, but not necessarily used, because ya'll know me too well, and "she's boring" or "she's whacked" isn't a bio.
Well, off to attempt sleep after much stimulating talk - I think, however, that it will be futile. Especially since I need to be up early to go gamble. Tummy full with a friends love from Chicago and a brain full of silliness and love from Roxanne. A winning combination, but sure to keep my brain (and heartburn) running long through the night.