I am also wearing my Snuggie on the flight and many around me have eyes filled with envy:
I decided to go visit my parents for a couple days this past weekend because Thanksgiving tickets were way too expensive. I'd been home since 11p.m. on Friday night.
When I come home for some good old R&R, the strangest things seem to happen.
On Sunday we cooked Thanksgiving dinner, watched Tony Romo stink up the joint (THANKS A LOT FOR YET ANOTHER FANTASY FOOTBALL LOSS YOU POOPEY HEAD LAME-O QUARTERBACK!!!), and broke bread with my lovely neighbors Lois and Devon - so that was a pretty plebeian "Thanksgiving break" sort of day.
But Saturday most a more typical "restful" day at home for me.
On Saturday morning I woke up early to go up to Rancho Park and watch my father - who will be turning 80 in 28 days - referee a 12 year-old girls AYSO soccer game. Stay tuned for some action shots of my vivacious Dad once I get them off my camera. Here's a teaser:
There was also a real pill of a coach screaming and yelling at the girls on his team - telling them they weren't playing well enough.
"This is one of your off games. You need to get it together and start listening to me! Jenny. When I say move up, you need to move up. Do you understand that?"
"Yes," she replied, kicking some dirt and refusing to make eye contact.
"Then why didn't you move up when I told you too?"
What the heck!! Your team is winning 3 to 0 and it's the playoffs! Calm it down!!
I listened to music on my iPhone and tried to zone him out as traumatizing memories of my own West L.A. AYSO years danced through my head.
After the game, I headed over to The Salon by Maxime to see Jade - my uber-fabulous hair stylist. That is where things started getting strange.
As I got comfy at the sink to get my foils rinsed out, I looked up and saw a familiar looking face walking towards me - greasy haired, makeup-less, and with a unnaturally petite nose.
"Hi Candy, how are you?" Jade said as the familiar face sat down at the sink next to me.
Yup. It was most certainly the only Candy you can think of without recalling a woman-of-the-night.
As everyone around showered her with saccharine-sweet hellos and questions about her shampoo preference, I made the conscious decision to go about my conversation with Jade like I had no idea who the hell she was. (BLOGGERS NOTE: I'm on team Tori and Dean anyway!!)
So I continued talking away to Jade about what I normally talk about when faced with an awkward situation: shopping.
"So, there is this camel corduroy blazer on sale at Banana I really want to get, but they only have a size 2 and it's a little too big. I need a zero. So I think I'm gonna go for this great navy military-inspired blazer I saw on super sale instead," I chatted away vapidly as Jade washed out my hair.
"Size 2!! Size 2 is too big!?! Oh you're so put-upon. I can't even remember the last time I could fit into a size 2," replied a voice that was most certainly not Jade.
In typical Candy Spelling fashion, she just had to insert herself into the dialogue.
"Hahaha! I know! You're so right Candy!" a thunderous chorus came from the sink area.
"I think the last time I was that small was right after my breast reduction surgery," Candy continued.
In that arena, she and Tori are obviously polar opposites.
Here is photographic proof of the run-in:
Please note Candy Spelling to the left of me and Jade in above photo.
As I departed the salon, I went up to say goodbye to Maxime, who was working on Candy's hair.
"So nice to meet you!! I'll see you around Christmas!" I said to him as I departed.
I heard Candy ask Maxime who I was.
He said I was Silvey, in from Washington D.C.
I'm sure that flicked on a light-bulb in her head instantaneously.
I personally like to think Candy thought I was a Hollywood starlet because I was wearing my $1,500 Ralph Lauren Collection riding boots - which I got at Discount Shoe Warehouse for $200. These boots, which are 2 weeks old, are the result an exhaustive 5-year search for boots that actually fit my twiggy calves, and are my babies.
The make me look rich - which I am not.
If I didn't think blogs with music were so annoying,
I'd insert a little "Hallelujah" musical refrain here.
I like to wear these stunning boots with my $6 t-shirts from Forever 21. You know...keep things in perspective. :)
And that brings me to my restful Saturday evening.
As you likely know, I have a wonderful pet doggie named Maggie in L.A., and there is nothing more relaxing to me then taking her for a walk around the block in my old neighborhood and listening to some classical music on my iPhone. I can literally feel the stress of Washington D.C. melt away.
So when I asked Maggie is she wanted to go for a W-A-L-K, she was gung-ho!
W-A-L-K??!!
(Please note dainty paw cross-over.)
It was cold outside so I decided not to change out of my boots. It was just a quick walk. I'd put on my PJs when I got home.
As we took the first turn around our little block, I saw two other dogs in the distance with their owner. Maggie is not a dog's dog. She HATES other dogs. She hoots and hollers and tries to look tough - which obviously is a difficult feat since she looks like Benji, the lovable movie dog of the 1970s.
So I pulled Maggie in close and walked her out into the middle of the street, so we wouldn't have a dramatic run-in with the other dogs.
"Maggie doesn't like other dogs," I shouted out to the other dog walker, who looked like she was trying to pull her little dog in close in the darkness. The bigger dog - a Weimaraner - just sat there like a lump, as the little Jack Russell Terrier - of terror I should say - barked away.
Then, suddenly the Jack Russell bolted towards Maggie like a wild banshee!! I mean, we were 10 feet away in the middle of the street!! And that little bitch started biting Maggie!!
Dramatization
Maggie was growling! The other dog was biting and growling! Maggie started biting too! The little bitch dog had her hind-leg. I did my best to get between them as the other lady stood there like an idiot in headlights.
It must have gone on for 30 seconds - me, Maggie and the little bitch twisted up - a mess of squeals, growls, screams of "STOP IT!" and Maggie's tangled leash. The other dog wasn't on leash.
Then suddenly, I did what any loving pet owner would do in that situation. I kicked the crap out of that little bitch. I kicked her with my $1,500 babies. She came back for more. I kicked her again. She was about to come after my boot and BOOM - right in the chest.
The little bitch ran back to her owner with her tail between her legs.
"I'm so sorry! I don't know how she got off her leash!" the idiot woman said.
I do. She wasn't on a leash to begin with you idiot.
Lucky enough, Maggie held her own and came out unscathed. My boot, however, did not:
I think this type of sacrifice deserves a medal or something...
Maybe an Olive Garden gift card?
At least I can find solace in the fact that my boots' first war wounds came from saving Maggie from a little bitch. I mean...who wouldn't make such a sacrifice for this face?
"Thanks. Now give me a damn Bacon Beggin' Strip now!"
What a random day.
Finally time for some peace and quiet. I settled into bed in the bedroom I shared with my sister Chelstina growing up and got on G-chat with LD - recalling the dramatic walk around the block that just took place.
"It's so nice to finally have some piece and quiet. It's funny being alone in the bedroom now. I always shared it. It was never just mine. Now it's so nice to have my own place to just relax and unwind when I'm home."
"I bet it is. What are you gonna do tonight?" LD responded.
"Just read, and try to do some of my meditation. I need to relax and catch up on some sleep. Ah...being in bed and all alone feels so good."
BOOOOOOOM!!! WOOOOOSHHHH!!!!
"HELP!!! HELP!!!! SOMEONE PLEASE!!! AYYYYEEE!!!"
I jumped out of bed. My mom was in the bathroom....I thought she had fallen out of her wheelchair! I was so worried...I ran towards the bathroom as water starting rushing towards me, flooding the hallway.
I opened the bathroom door, which also houses our washer and dryer.
The washing machine door had exploded - right in the middle of the spin cycle - and was gushing water out into the house - hallway, living room, dining room. All drenched in 1 inch of water.
My Dad and I rushed to the linen closet and grabbed every towel in the house. We spent the next 45 minutes mopping up the hard-wood floors. Thank God it wasn't carpet.
And, thank God that my mom was alright.
I do not, however, thank God that every pair of underwear and jeans I had brought home was in that still-soapy and sopping wet load.
The next morning was spent at the Laundromat.
Nothing like going home for the Thanksgiving in the Silvey household for some true rest and relaxation.
Have I mentioned I have a generalized anxiety dirorder?
1 comments:
Classic!
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