Laughing is one of my most favorite things and it is something that I do on a regular basis whether someone is with me or not. I'll be just cruising down the road and will start to think of something that happened years ago, and suddenly I am in full blown hysterics all over again. Personally I think I have a decent laugh but have noticed that my "laughing traits" have changed thru the years. Am I a pretty laugher? (Is this even a word?) Absolutely not, but I put in the effort and hopefully get points for that. As my friends know I start with a good giggle which evolves into a more hearty/slight cackle with a head throw back, and for the real doozies I go into a full on silent but crying laugh with sporadic snorts. This can last for an extended period of time where I will randomly get tickled and start this process all over again should I think of it later in the day.
Another one of my favorite things to do is visit a local Hallmark to read all the funny cards and just crack up; this can go on all day. Growing up my sister Katherine and I would stop in Hallmark and then spend the next hour reading (out loud) cards to each other from across the store absolutely in tears from laughing so hard. After we had totally screwed up the placement of each card in the "Funny" section we would stop over at the good ol Baskin Robbins for a double scoop of chocolate and peanut butter ice cream, in a cup. Please and Thank You! Gosh I loved doing that! Those were the days when greeting cards were actually funny, instead of now when they are just down right terrible. Who knew the one that says "I looked all around the world and all I could find was this card" had such an extended self life? It wasn't funny in 1969 and still isn't today. Geesh. Why doesn't Chelsea Handler, Jimmy Fallon or Tina Fey have a line of greeting cards? Those would be money.
While I'm on the subject of laughing I will share 2 awesome memories of mine. Gosh I'm getting tickled just thinking of them again. The first one is the time I had some friends over and we were playing tag in the pitch black darkness inside my house. (Don't ask, I have no idea why we thought this would work) I had just gotten my multi-colored heart comforter so it must've been when I was in junior high; my bed was situated a little off center from my bedroom door to where you would walk in and then step to the left to jump on the bed. Anywho, there I was laying on the floor furthest from the door beside my bed while my friend Kelly was in Black Knight stealth mode in search for everyone. (hee hee this is hilarious) There I am barely breathing when I hear her creeping into my room, and with a leap she exclaimed "AH HA!!" only to totally miss my bed and land with a ferocious thud on the floor. Oh my goodness it was stupendous. Poor girl, it had to hurt but good Lord it was pure comedy. The second one (God this is fantastic) was when my sister and I were playing flashlight tag (again in the pitch black darkness) with some kids at my Dad's company cookout. So there we are crouched down along with this other guy, when he turns to Katherine and I and whispers "shhhh you stay here, I'll be right back". Poor fella stands, turns and Carl Lewis' himself directly into a huge pine tree. You cannot even imagine the hysterical fits that came over Katherine and I. Unbelievable.
After a recent Facebook post of mine prompted my "friends" to mention some hilarious things that I had forgotten, I thought it would be fun to write some down for a nice Saturday laugh.
- My 8th grade mushroom haircut with 5 inch rat tail. Horrific
- The time my tire came off my VW golf and bounded down Main Street in Hope Mills during the bumper to bumper traffic from the 4th of July firework festival.
- Senior trip to Florida while swimming in the ocean. I jumped up out of a wave, my bikini top did not.
- Sneaking back into my house on Range Rd and scraping all the skin off the front of my legs climbing back into my window. Damn cedar siding.
- Jumping up on stage at Michelle Gillis' wedding reception and dancing/lip synching to Tequilla. Totally unsolicited entertainment. To this day I don't know why I did that.
- A quick bathroom break in the woods driving home from Fuquay with Misty Gillis and my husband. I returned with a man-eating spider on my back. Us 3 running around the car screaming while they are hitting me and the spider.
- Driving my sister and her friend to school one foggy morning. Pulled onto the road and straight into our school bus who didn't have on their lights. People wrote Hey Sally on the fogged up bus windows. Oh yeah, and the driver was my lunch lady that day.
- Nightly shows in Greenville of me singing and dancing to Passionate Kisses by Mary Chapin Carpenter to Steph, Misty, Shannon and our entire apartment complex. Still have no idea why I did this.
- Riding bikes with Trey down the main street in Southport after the 4th of July parade, when our handlebars crossed and I went face first into the pavement in front of the entire state of NC. Thank goodness I had been drinking all day, helped with the pain.
- Trying to give myself a bikini wax. Enough said.
- My bachelorette party in Myrtle, I got on stage and danced at Senior Frogs to Mustang Sally. good grief
- First keg stand on Brent Road, trying to look cool in front of all the cute NC State boys. Went up, came down and puked all over the guy in front of me. classy
- Jumping on the back of some creepy old man's Harley at Laura's beach house, burned my leg on the exhaust on the way home. Soaked my leg in the keg barrel and kept on drinking. 2nd degree burns.
- Dancing on top of the table for my 21st birthday at the beach and showing everyone in the restaurant my panties. On purpose I think which is even worse.
- Started sliding backward down the slope on my ski's, a darn tree branch when up the back of my jacket and thru the collar. I was stuck in a hole like that until Trey stopped laughing and helped me, all the while our family was laughing down from the ski lift overhead.
- Slid down the ski slope backwards again and down into a deep ditch for the light poles in a pike position. Stayed like that until Trey stopped laughing and helped me out.
- Tried to be a smarty pants and cut thru the parking lot at Tweetsie only to step waist deep into a mud hole. Again was stuck until everyone stopped laughing.
I am having an affair with a ravishing Italian and he is delicious in every way. Each time I pass him just casually laying there beckoning me with his crisp exterior I must stop and take a nibble. Or two. Honestly I cannot help myself. Just a whiff of his sweet toasty aroma sends me into sensory overload and I must have him ... now.
My lover and I met on a rainy day in the bakery section of the new Food Lion in town while I was trolling the aisles for something to catch my eye. He was nestled under the soft glowing lights amongst many others but I only wanted him. Our connection was instant and the moment the attendant lifted him up and over to my basket I knew we were meant for each other and would be together if only for one blissful day and night. Sneaking him into my home and finding a good hiding place is relatively easy, however waiting until everyone is asleep so we can be alone is pure torture. As the minutes tick away at a snail's pace I anxiously await for my husband's eyes to close. The moment I hear the slightest snore I pounce into the kitchen like a cheetah ninja warrior and whip out the Extra Virgin (how ironic) Olive Oil faster than you can say Rachel Ray. With my trusty cracked pepper mill and evoo I smother the closest platter with my love elixir, pour myself a glass of chilled Pinot Grigio, hoist him onto the countertop to dip and devour every last bite.
I am the Black Widow of bread and there isn't a slab of dough that is safe while I am around. Thank goodness I am married because there isn't another man alive that would consider having me for a wife once he saw the bread basket carnage I leave behind. Whether it be the richest sourdough or crouton-like stale heel still floating around the house, I will dip or slather whatever is handy and will eat it. No questions asked. Get between me and some garlic knots and you may just lose a digit or two. Now the Jews can keep their rye, but you may drop me off at the Macaroni Grill anytime where baskets of heavenly rosemary goodness await.
Why o why Lord could I not have been born with the gift of vegetable addiction? Seeing a woman eat a lush green salad is sexy; hankering down on some biscuits and gravy is not. It's a sickness I tell you. How could I possibly be held responsible for all the extra baggage (in my ass) that my love for Italian loafs brings to my once svelte frame? Is it my fault that all of MY salads are accompanied by croutons larger than a small dog? What creepy skinny person would attempt to have a bowl of pinto beans without a hunk of iron skillet cornbread doused in heart attack inducing butter?
You can keep your fancy smancy Mediterranean Orzo Salad with Feta Vinaigrette but please pass the leftover pizza crusts to me. Quickly.
That darn Phil Collins kills me every time; it never fails. Every single time I'm driving down the beach front with my windows open just minding my own business happy as a clam, a Phil Collins song will come on the radio and I turn into a total hot mess. There is absolutely nothing for me to be weepy about, but there I am in all my teary runny nose glory singing Against All Odds at the top of my lungs to no one in particular. Oh .. and the best are One More Night and Groovy Kind of Love. Just one opening measure of those and up goes the car radio and down go all the windows, and off I go driving up and down the roads just singing at the top of my lungs like my heart is breaking in two until the song ends and I can finally go home an emotional wreck. At first my husband would give me that "What in the Hell?" look each time I came home all sniffled up and bleary eyed. Now I just get the "that darn Phil Collins song" eye roll. It's not like I can help it! But grief, I am a little loony about them.
In my defense I have had some doozy relationships, although none that I can remember would warrant the total dissolution of my pride as I lean out my car window just singing into the darkness, while poor vacationers are out on their rented porches covering their ears. I mean really?! Just one more night? What in the heck is one more night going to get anybody? You tell a guy you just want one more night, and he's thinking, Lord he'll give you just one more night just as long as you promise to leave by daybreak and to never call again. Am I right? Umm Hmmm. I thought so. One more night is nothing but a whole lot of trouble. Trust me. I know this.
And Groovy Kind of Love, my goodness I love that song. Someone plays that song around me and we might as well get married, cause I'm never leaving. Nope. No "one more night" for this chick. Good ol' Phil knows just what to say and if he could just wait until I'm asleep to come on the radio I would get a lot more done around here. It's just so time consuming to stop what I am doing so I can drive around the island singing, and then spending the rest of the evening analyzing old relationships that I haven't thought about since the last darn Phil Collins song came on the radio!
I really should be medicated.
Today I had just one of "those days". You know where you feel that nothing is going quite like you had planned, your yard looks like shit and you don't have the energy to even care what your neighbors may be thinking of you. I'm totally bummed about the fact that I will never be an Olympian, I am a total slug and I refuse to play tennis (which I adore) until I can fit my hind-end into a cute little tennis skirt; which at the rate I'm going will be a very long time. I'm talking decades here. My career is a total joke, and that just sucks. All I wanted was to be in real estate, and I worked sooo hard to accomplish that goal and earn my license. When I finally (and I do mean FINALLY) passed that freaking test, it was one of the happiest days of my life, and the following 2 years were fantastic too. Of course in famous procrastination Sally fashion, I didn't get into the market with all of my now "well off" smart friends when I had the chance. Oh No! Let's wait 6 years so we can screw around and be a beach bum and THEN get into real estate just as the market is crapping the bed. Oh My God talk about bad decisions central.
So here I am on a mission to drink my worries away and all I have in the house are those individual frozen margarita things that I am slurping down as fast as my curly straw will let me. Nevermind that they only have 5oz. of wine in the packet, a small but important detail written in the tiniest script on the bottom of the label. Thankfully I've started early so hopefully by the time the sun rises on Wednesday I will be singing the Pina Colada Song to my weeds.
My husband went to bed long ago, weary from hearing me complain about our yard, how messy our house is, why I'm the only one who remembers to buy toilet paper, asking how much longer it will take to fix the pool, how he crashed another computer putting virus protection crap on it and now we have to use our 1867 laptop on dial up, how come he never wants to sit and talk anymore, why is curly hair never in style ..... I don't know what has gotten into him. It's MY bad day after all you know.
And to top off this delicious day of crapness, I don't have anything clean to wear to work tomorrow which is my fault since I'm the only one who does laundry around here. When I graduated from high school my dream was to take the summer and drive across country before going to college. Knowing me, I probably never would have done it even if I had the opportunity but how awesome would that have been?! I could have saved myself from a whole lot of heartache and disappointments, but whose to say that my life wouldn't have turned out exactly the same but maybe now I would be living in San Antonio or Seattle? I'll just stay here by the ocean thank you very much and have a little pity party with my yellow swirly straw and frozen wine cooler contraption in a rat-a-tat nightgown. It's too bad the kids finally went to bed, I could complain about that too.
The 4th of July is a magical time of the year for me and holds many wonderful memories in my heart. Just thinking about all of my 4th's over the past 37 years brings joy to my soul and a few laughs as well. I hope that everyone is enjoying their 4th of July with friends and family! Maybe you too will take some time to sit down and remember some of your favorite memories and they will bring joy to your heart and a smile on your face too.
Happy 4th of July!!
Here are some of my fondest memories~
Riding in the back of my Pop Pop's truck at Lake Waccamaw with my sister and cousins, carrying Grandmother's famous lemon pound cake and blueberry cobbler to my Aunt Mary's where the entire Wayne Family gathered for the annual 4th of July reunion. Fat, juicy watermelons bobbing in the an ice cold well just waiting to be devoured by us kids, while danging our tan legs off the pier. My Aunt Ethel's homemade 12 layered cake, so sweet I can't believe our teeth didn't fall out. Gentle lake breezes blowing the red and white checkered tablecloths that covered miles of picnic tables with the most delicious food I've ever had. The annual race for the only hammock, diving off the end of Aunt Mary's pier with my cousins, my Aunt Juanita wearing her beautiful 4th of July scarf and the divine peace that only comes with a good days swim, being kissed and hugged 100 times by those that love you and a belly full of food.
Once I moved to the beach Trey and I started making some of our own memories. I remember my first year not being at the lake because I wasn't prepared for the 4th of July traffic and couldn't get off the island! Trey buying the tackiest Hawaiian shirt and I a hippie dress that we found at Local Call or Bert's Surf Shop so we could roam around the Yacht Basin at night in our sunburned slendor. Packing a backpack full of beer and riding our bikes all day around downtown Southport, while weaving in and out of the parade procession. Stopping by friends houses for a visit and cookouts after hanging out at Beach Day, while Trey competed in the Volleyball and Horseshoe Tournament. Wrecking my bike in the middle of Howe Street because I was too busy waving at a friend passing by! Ouch! Dancing to Brown Eyed Girl at the Tiki Hut by the Southport Marina, and milling about the Riverfront greeting old friends by Provision Company while we pulled up some grass for the fireworks.
Now that I'm older with children we enjoy those fireworks on the other side of the river at The Baptist Assembly. Those same fireworks still light up the sky in the most vibrant colors, only with a 5 second delay and a child chattering about their favorites. (The buzzing bees are still mine) Beach Days are spent with the children in sack races and watermelon rolling contests and mommy-ish red, white and blue attire have replaced those ridiculous yet comfy hippie dresses. 4th of July mornings are spent driving to the lake from our home, instead of waking up in my old room at the lake house, the annual reunion is now hosted by my parents at our lake house and hamburgers off the grill have replaced those pimento cheese finger sandwiches and homemade ham biscuits. My children and their cousins are jumping off the pier now while I reminisce with great-aunts and uncles in those same heavenly breezes, beach bags filled with extra clothes for the kids, snacks and the ever-present camera have replaced those backpacks filled with beer.
I wouldn't have it any other way, but I sure do miss my grandparents and watching my Grandmother in her kitchen baking her famous blueberry cobbler.
