The Oil Change

I take my car to a mechanic for oil changes.  Now, that sounds a lot fancier than it is.  When I lived in Cincinnati, I would take it to someplace like Jiffy-Lube.  Most of what they do is oil changes with the occasional radiator flush and tire rotation; you are in and out in about 20 minutes if they aren't busy.  Here there is one fast lube place, a Wal-Mart and dozens of little mechanic’s garages.

If you’ve never been to a small town mechanic-it’s hard to describe.  I show up, tell them who my kin is (that means relatives in case you didn’t know) and they treat me like they’ve known me all my life… Ask after my family and neighbors; ask what I do and the like- all the while, letting me watch and ask questions about what they’re doing while they’re working under the car.  There are always 3-6 men in the garage whether they work there or not and at least one will be really old and missing teeth.  They always seem really interested that I would bring my car to a mechanic without male accompaniment.

A few months ago, I was having some trouble with my car; it was loud and didn’t have as much power as it should.  I took it to this place Mom told me about, apparently my brother-in-law worked there for a little while.  Mike was able to tell me what was wrong just by lying down in front of the car and wiggling a few things underneath.  I went to get cash-he doesn’t take plastic and Mom is one of the few people he’ll take a check from.  An hour after getting back to his garage, I was on the road with a new flex tube and a much quieter car.  And when I took the car back because the weld had failed and my car sounded like crap again, he said they had messed up and then fixed it without any hassle or charge.

So I walk in this morning and Mike asks how I’m doing-“fine and you?”  Then I ask after the possibility of an oil change-he says “pretty good” Mike asks if I want to leave the car or come back in a couple of hours.  I said “I’ll bring it back” and that’s the end of the conversation… he goes back to standing under the truck looking at the underside while the owner tells him what’s wrong with it. 

Oil changes, used tires and other small things are what keep small local garages in business.  I’d rather have my oil changed at Mike’s any day-his prices are fair, he’s fast and if anything is ever really wrong with my car, I know the name of a good mechanic.  Plus it keeps life far more interesting than spending 20 minutes sitting on a molded plastic chair.

In a couple minutes it will have been a couple hours and time to take the car back. 

I LOVE food

I Love to try new and different foods.

I especially love to try foods that go with places. I think of these as Vacation Foods; unique foods in new and different places.   One of the times when I went to visit BFF Sean in Boston, we went to this wonderful little microbrewery near Fenway park-they made the best burger and I had the hard cider they make to go with it… ommmmmmmm nomnom.  

On a different trip to Boston, Sean drove me up to Maine, where we wandered around on a rainy afternoon and stopped in a little town on the coast to eat… I had the crab cakes-they were wonderful-crabby and crispy.  On that same trip, we took a train to Salem on Halloween, for Samhain (pronounced sow an) a Wiccan Celebration about nature, the elements and compass directions.  What felt like thousands of people in the park all walked down to Old Salem after the Gathering.  Sean and I ended up in little Mom and Pop Pizza place; the pizza was great but the place was packed and you know how I feel about crowds.  We also wandered around in the psychic fair food booths and some of the open stores.  I bought my Nightmare Before Christmas metal lunchbox there.

Last summer I went to Santa Claus, IN with Mom and my sister’s family.  We mostly ate normal stuff like IHOP, amusement park food and stuff cooked at the campsite- my brother-in-law, Jamie is a great cook-so that was all good.  But we decided we were going to try something different-we went to a little place on the side of the road that sells buffalo burgers.  The burgers were good, but they were overpriced and small, we all ended up having to order a second burger.  If you ever eat there-be prepared.

The trip with the most memorable food was when I went to China.  Stephen, a friend from college who has been living in China since he graduated took me to some very interesting places to eat and I was really glad I took the Imodium with me.  I flew into Kunming, Stephen met me at the Airport, took me to the Hostel to drop my stuff, and then we went to find dinner.  About a block from the Hostel was a little street stall selling noodles and grilled squash with red pepper powder.  The food was spicy-but tasty.  Even though the travel books warn people away from them, we ate at street stalls most of the time I was there; spicy soups with noodles, meat grilled on sticks, Over the bridge soup (a local specialty mentioned in the travel books) and one particular little stall that warmed rounds of tortilla looking things slathered with stuff that looked like thick molasses then wrapped around a puffy dough glob… it was wonderful-squishy, sweet and warm; Mmmm better than doughnuts.

I met Stephen’s local friends and they were so honored to have an American to entertain, that they took me for a fancy dinner.  We were in a private room at somewhere or other and we were served all kinds of special dishes-the only one I remember was the deep fried bee larvae-it was crunchy. At another place, I got to try Hot Pot-we walked into what looked like a storage space full of kindergarten sized chairs and tables.  The tables each had a hole with a propane tank under it.  We picked the split bowl with fish stock in one side and spicy in the other.  They lit the tank flame to heat the stock and we went to pick vegetables and meats to add.  We added the stuff to the stock and waited for it to cook- it was so good.  If I could afford it, I would go back to China for the food alone but there are other places on my dream travel list to visit first.

I eat some interesting things at home too.  Some that I come up with myself-like whole pickles eaten with walnut pieces-a bite of pickle then a couple of walnut pieces… good combo.  I may try making it into a relish at some point.

Some of the things I end up eating at home don’t go so well-like the time Mom combined macaroni and cheese with ground beef and bean sprouts… It was just wrong-crunchy and squishy and the flavors didn’t go together.  I prefer tomatoes with my mac-n-cheese and ground beef.

Lost in Hindman

I’m a little OCD about my hair.  If it’s something small like my bangs being too long-I can fix that.  If it’s a fundamental structure issue like that I can tell one side is longer than the other, I want to get that fixed by a professional.  I’ve been trying different stylists since I got home (because I hadn’t found THE ONE) so when I heard that Trent- a friend from high school was reopening his hair salon, I decided to wait till he was open and give him a try… I patiently waited a couple of weeks and set an appointment for yesterday.  I was so excited; not only was I getting my hair cut I was going to get to see a friend I hadn’t seen in years.

 I got up and left the house a little early-to give myself time to find his shop.  I got into downtown Hindman-drove up Main St. (which takes about 3 minutes) and didn’t see the shop.  I drove down Main St. and still didn’t see the shop.  I was about to freak out when I saw Stacy, Trent’s wife and kids walking through downtown.  I parked my car and ran/shuffled (1. I don’t run and 2. I was wearing flip flops) to meet up with her.  I got to where she was and I was all “OMG Stacy! Where is the shop- I’m so late!”  Stacy-looking a little shell shocked- told me how to get there… She started with “Do you know where ______ used to be?”  Of course I didn’t… After quickly getting directions (thanks Stacy-sorry about the shell shock,) I left Stacy and ran back to my car.
Back on the road, I headed toward the OTHER part of Main St. again looking for the shop on both sides of the street-I got all the way to Leburn-about 5 minutes then turned around and since I hadn’t thought to take Trent’s number with me, I called home.  It was early enough that Mom and Joe weren’t out of bed yet.  I had to call three times before I got a person.  While I parked the car in front of two simple trailers, Mom woke Joe; he looked up the number.  While he was doing that, I looked around and saw it… the number! Then I saw the sign-THE CUTTING EDGE right there.  I had parked in front of the shop by accident.  I said something pithy like son of a B**** I was 17 minutes late.

I rushed in and told the epic tale of finding The Cutting Edge.  We laughed.  Trent cut my hair; it looked great and then I went to spend my day cataloging books at the library.  Later, when I met up with Mom and Joe for Chinese food and grocery shopping Joe said “How did you get lost in Hindman? …That should be your blog name.”

Just so you know… I did not get lost in Hindman.  I knew exactly where I was-I just didn’t know where I was supposed to be going-kind of like my life. 

Keep an eye out for my new blog of book reviews to be announced later. 
Edit- Here's the review site: http://bookreviewsfromnowhere.blogspot.com/
first review should be on there tonight.

Comfortable is not always better

You all know about my mom’s taste in television and how I’m trying to influence her to not spend as much time with the Hallmark Movie Channel… the thing is, she is like this with everything.  She finds something she likes and gets too comfortable to change it.  She tends to stick with stuff long after she should have gotten rid of them.  Right now, her car is a yellow Nissan Xterra.  Her last car? Yellow Nissan Xterra. 

She watches and re-watches the Hallmark movies and Murder She Wrote episodes.  I’ve been working on introducing her to other television shows: We watched Sherlock, Warehouse 13, Firefly and next I was thinking about Monk, Merlin or maybe Doctor Who.

Mom used to work for a second-hand store that was run by Hospice.  She would always be bringing stuff home.  Some was just AWESOME like the pair of Eric Cartman slippers she brought me-they said “screw you guys” and “I’m going home” on the backs of the heels.  She also brought home lots of dishes and clothes for herself.  Mom is a bit of a pack-rat-I can’t say anything because I am too… we’ve been nagging her for years to go through her dishes and clothes and get rid of the stuff she doesn’t use or wear.

My siblings (mostly my sister) and I have been bugging her about her wardrobe for years.  For the longest time she didn’t have any jeans and mostly wore wind suits-those shiny “track suits” with sequins and other shiny bits that were popular with older rich women in the 00s.  When they were no longer popular, people started donating them to Mom’s work and she brought them home… all of them.  She had at least a dozen.  We’ve been fighting the wind suits since she started bringing them home- I think they look tacky, but of course I’m more of a jeans kind of girl.

She also never bought new clothes for herself.  Last year, for my cousin Amy’s wedding I bullied my mom into going to Cold Water Creek.  I then badgered her until she tried on clothes and found two family wedding trip appropriate outfits… the pants are a lovely taupe and can go with everything.  I have also talked her into buying new shirts at other places too.  And to top all that off, my sister-in-law who has really good taste gave mom bags of beautiful clothes she can’t wear anymore (she lost a bunch of weight-go girl!)  So now, Mom has all these clothes and had to make room for them all. Today mom brought a bag out of her room and asked me to put it out in the garbage can-it was full of wind suits.  I am so proud that I had to write about it.

June is a Terrible Month.

For the last several years, June has been a notoriously bad month for me.  Let me go back to the beginning. 

I was living in Louisville as a college dropout.  A friend and I were sharing a crappy one-bedroom walk-up on Taylor Blvd.  She got the bedroom because “It [was her] apartment” she was just letting me live there. It was true, her name was on the lease, but I paid half the rent.   I worked about 4 blocks away at a little gas station (where I got held-twice-jerks.)

I was 21, and like I said the other day, had the bottom half of my head shaved; I would pull the rest- dyed black-back into a barrette at my crown, of course.  I wore lot of black-basically I was Goth before it was called Goth- funky jewelry, makeup and all. 

I drove the afore mentioned 1979 AMC Spirit-I loved that car.  Went to Rocky Horror-in costume, drank gallons of coffee nightly with friends at Denny’s, played Magic The Gathering and hung out with friends a lot.  I basically lived a carefree existence-no longer a child but not quite an adult.  Then…

In the beginning of June 1994, my Dad died unexpectedly-it had to do with a heart problem that they found when he was in High School-doesn’t matter.  I was caught complete off guard, because quite honestly with Mom being a Brittle Diabetic, I always expected her to pass first (soo many health problems.)

My beloved AMC Spirit had died and I had no way to get home.  My friend Lori (hi Lori) came home from college to make sure I was okay and take me to my brother’s in Lexington so I could ride the rest of the way with him.  The rest of my family members who passed in June of various years were all elderly.  That’s not to say that they were expected, but they were less of a shock.  

I was a mess for the first year… sullen, sarcastic and bitchy- like I am now but far less fun because I cried a lot.  Dad looked like Santa Clause, so the Christmas in July commercials broke my heart.  The first Christmas without him was hard-we sat arround drinking and "decorating" the tree.  The lights and garland stayed bundled and were tossed into the branches and an empty can served as tree topper.  We laughed and cried and we got through it.

I moved back to live with Mom to finish teaching her and my sister how to drive-it’s hard to get anywhere here without driving.  I took classes at the local Community College, because I knew he wanted me to and because I wanted it.  Then after that year I went away to college at Berea then on to Lexington for more schooling. 

Each year day-by-day I would get a little better till out of nowhere, I would be reminded and have a mini breakdown; I remember being in the Design studio at Berea waiting for class to start while one of my friends told me something his Dad said or did that upset him.  I reminded him that he should appreciate his Dad while he had him and that he was just doing his job. Then the tears welled and I couldn’t push them back.  It’s the moments when I’m not expecting it that I get the sucker punch to the gut.  Most of the time I’m fine and can talk about him and tell stories, but I don’t talk about him being dead-it makes me cry. (Don’t worry and rush to call me-by the time you read this I’ll be back to fine.) 

So, there the grief is, lurking behind the everyday, just waiting for its turn to ride the Merry-go-round.  I always expect that grief to make its appearance during the first of June and hang out for a week.  Well, that didn’t happen this year.  I was going through the motions of the everyday when I realized it was half way through June and didn’t have my usual “OMG! It’s June!” moment. I didn't prepare for the depression and crying, get extra tissues, chocolate and anything else I might need.

After realizing that I had forgotten to wait for the sadness to overcome me, I was filled with guilt.  I know I shouldn’t.  I should be living my life and enjoying what I have, but I can’t help it.  Inside I’m a very sensitive person so I feel deeply. 

It has been 18 years and more than a week, and I think I might be getting past this grief-next I get to work on the guilt for not feeling the grief as much. 

Gum and THE TALK

Sorry it’s been so long.  I’ve been doing other things that I should write about: camping with friends, mini road trip with Mom, working.  But I feel the need to write about something completely frivolous: bubble gum.

Lately I’ve had a craving for bubble gum.  I’m not talking about chewing gum like Orbits or Extra, I mean good old fashioned loaded with sugar-lose the flavor in 15 minutes bubble gum like Hubba Bubba or Bubbalicious.  I’ve been thinking about that full mouth chomping, stretching with your tongue stuff made for the big bubble.

I have been thinking about it for a few weeks now… remembering what it was like...  I don’t know what made me think of it to begin with-but every couple of days I would think about bubble gum.  Today I happened to think about it while I was in a store that had some.  I bought a pack and popped a square then went to finish the grocery shopping. 

I wandered through the store chomping and blowing bubbles… It reminded me of my childhood.  Buying a pack and sharing with friends or hording it all for myself.   Summers riding around on my bike till the streetlights came on.  Not to mention getting in trouble for chewing gum in school.  The innocence of youth came flooding back to me all because of a square of gum.  Hubba Bubba was my favorite-it had the two colors like pink and green (Watermelon) that usually mixed to make grey or brown.  During High School my favorite switched to Juicy Fruit.

At some point in the last couple of weeks, I realized that I don’t really see much of that kind of gum in stores anymore.  I haven’t really been looking.   Maybe it has to do with missing the carefree joys of youth or it could just be wanting to blow bubbles and make my jaw ache tomorrow.

This next part is completely unrelated except that it is another thing I've been thinking about lately. 

The Talk-  Many of you that know me understand that I am a very reserved person until I get to know you and feel comfortable showing my true self: open, smart-assed, funny, tactful, sarcastic and considerate.  My reservedness often prevents me from forming romantic relationships.  Because of this, over time people have felt the need to have "The Talk" with me.  Most of them go something like this: Them "You know, if you are gay, we're okay with it." Me "I appreciate that, but I'm not gay."

The first time I was not expecting it at all.  A friend came at me with "Don't you think it's time you came out of the closet? I mean, we all know you're gay." from out of the blue.  I was shocked... At the time I had no idea anyone might think that... I mean sure, I wore flannel , shaved half my head and wore a lot of black- but it was the 90s.

My favorite of all time was with my sister.  We were in my car on the way to the baptism of my brother's kids.  I'm going to paraphrase a little because I apparently used some crude language.

Sister "Alita, you know we love you and want you to be happy."

Me "Um, yeah, I know and love you too"

Sister "It's been a while since you've had a relationship.  Have you considered trying women?"

Me -WTH- "I have considered.  And while I think I'd be good at it, I'm really not that interested in trying it, besides I like men (that is the part where I got crude)." 

Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of homosexual friends and can completely understand being attracted to another woman, or man if you're a man.  There are several women out there that I think are very attractive-I even have a little crush on Queen Latifa because she's just that awesome-but that does not mean that I wanna get with her.  Yes, it has been a while since I had anything go further than a 2nd date.  But I am just not that interested in being with a guy just for the sex. 

That said, I could come visit, we could drink too much and I might let things get out of hand.

Television

I made the mistake of answering the phone to a survey Wednesday night. They wanted to know which local news programs I watch and which news personalities I like... Well, living here there really is only one station- WYMT: We're Your Mountain Television. The reason we first moved to the area. My Dad was a television new producer for them. So of course most of my answers were WYMT and that I liked that station and the news personalities I know like Steve the anchor, Jim the weather guy (He is better looking in person) and Derrick the sports guy (Hot) They are all married, but I like to look.

I only watch the news because Mom watches the news.
Living with mom, in her house means that she usually chooses the television programs. Most of the programs we agree on-like Big Bang Theory, NCIS and CSI. I also like the old mystery programs she watches like Murder She Wrote and Matlock.
I don't know if I've told you this but Mom watches WAY TOO MUCH Hallmark Movie Channel. I'm sure she has seen all the movies they show at least 5 times if not more.  I like to watch some of those movies- once.  I have been trying to move her toward less maudlin shows-they are like After-school specials for adults... and they always have a happy ending. I can't say too much because I read romance novels (my guilty pleasure-Nora Roberts)
I know she loves mysteries so I got her watching Netflix: Sherlock-the new one from the BBC showing on PBS, we watched Life and we have been watching Warehouse 13. Mom is a creature of habit; so when I come home to find she went to Netflix (by herself) to watch some of last season's Sherlock, I feel so proud that I'm helping her expand.
I've also been bring home movies from the library. Tonight we watched In Time and tomorrow we are going to see Dark Shadows (for Mother's Day.) She likes Johnny Depp, so maybe I'll try some 21 Jump street-the TV show too.

And now, a repost from Facebook:
Actual conversdation with my mom...
mom "Johnny Depp looks good as a vampire"... "Dark Shadows was the only soap opera I ever really watched."
me "That was a soap opera?"
mom "yes, I watched it when your dad worked for educational tv. We lived on Willow."
me "You watched a vampire soap opera?"
mom "yes"
me "do you think Johnny Depp is hot?"
mom "yes, that's what I said earlier."
me "when you said ...he looked 'good as a vampire'?"
mom "yes"
me "you want to go see it with me?"
mom "that sounds like fun"
me "you watched a VAMPIRE soap opera?"

Happy Mother's Day Mom, I love you.