1. All good men must come to the aid of their country. All good men must come to the aid of their country. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. Mrs. G. has been typing these two sentences over and over again in an attempt to jumpstart and oil the wheels in her brain. All good men must come to the aid of their country. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. Frankly, these sentences haven't jump started anything except shameful memories of Mrs. G's smug ass sitting in high school typing class sure she wouldn't have to do anything as mundane as typing in her future. Queens of small countries don't type. Well, Mrs. Scrandall, you have the last laugh on this one. Really, Mrs. Scrandall, sit down and laugh it up, because typing has been crucial to Mrs. G's life, much more so than reigning over the country that never materialized, unless you want to count Mrs. G's laundry room, which she does sometimes when she wants to feel more imposing and stately while separating the darks from the lights.
2) Enjoying the company of two sweet, strapping young men in her home (plus Mr. G -- a sweet, strapping seasoned man). Mrs. G's son is home for the summer and his friend who is like a second son is bunking here as well. Mrs. G, we all know not a domestic woman by nature, can't explain the odd pleasure she feels baking a loaf of banana blueberry bread and seeing it inhaled before it cools. It has taken Mrs. G. several years to establish the symmetry of being needed and not needed, but, for now, she has and it feels strangely satisfying and liberating.
3) Buying a treadmill with all the bells and whistles. Now she can jog and fall down in the privacy of her own home. She named it Doug, because she dated a dickweed in high school named Doug who took her out on two dates and "forgot" his wallet both times. Now Mrs. G. can climb on the treadmill mornings she doesn't feel like it and say, "Oh Fuck you, Doug," with some authority.
4) Working her way through two seasons of the West Wing. A reader recently sent an email suggesting Rob Lowe was long overdue for Mancake status. Mrs. G. agrees and has began the extensive googling research needed to properly showcase his, well, talent.
5) Leaving next week for Los Angeles to help her daughter move into a charming studio with great light and hardwood floors. Mrs. G. had hoped to escape the actual moving part of the moving and show up for the fixing the place up part of moving, but when you get emails from your kid saying things like, "Please, God, please. Mom I need you," you book a ticket and feel thrilled when you get another email saying, "Yay! Thank you Lord!" Again, the symmetry of being needed and not needed. It's tricky if you don't pay attention and read your email.
For once, Mrs. G. is staying in L.A. for a decent amount of time. She will be there the 10th through the 19th. She will be in Santa Monica without a car Monday through Thursday while her daughter works, so if you want to get together for lunch or dinner, please send her an email and let's make it happen.
More tomorrow friends. The wheels are officially greased. Thanks for waiting.