NEW RELEASES
Yes, your honor, there was a bug in my soup
I spent the last weekend out-of-town with my children’s robotics team. Two other moms and myself were in charge of making sure the kids ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner. After lunch on the first day, we always go check into the hotel so that we don’t have to do it with a bunch of tired kids misbehaving in the lobby while we wait for seven rooms to be assigned. I don’t believe there is a more destructive force than nerdy robotics children who understand calculus and physics waiting for a hotel room – you only make that mistake once . . . and that’s another blog.
We had some trouble with making the reservations. The school decided we were spending too much money on rooms and made us move to a cheap motel. I try to behave myself with folks I don’t know well and the other two moms come under this category. As we were driving to the motel, I noticed the area got shabbier and shabbier. There were seedy bars and some “women” who may or may not have been hookers. I didn’t say anything, I was determined to “not be me”. While one of the other moms was dealing with the 
front desk, I walked the few feet over to the “included” breakfast section. I was handsomely greeted by a cockroach and a plastic tower of stale cereal. And still, I said NOTHING. I mean, I said “Look, there’s a cockroach.” But I did not say “Nothing on earth could cause me to stay here.” Which is what I wanted to say but I swore to Ed I’d behave and “not be me”.
A formally “white” towel
When we were done, we decided we’d better have a gander at the rooms. We drove around to the back and found this. Yes, you’re seeing it correctly. That’s a mattress in the parking lot. I’m not sure if a guest asked for an al fresco sleeping arrangement or if they were trying something new.
***PS*** Amylynn here – When I received the first picture of the mattress via text, I started packing up my computer and gathering my things from my desk assuming the very next text would be her request to come fetch her 100 miles away. Seriously. Ava has standards, regardless of the fact that she grew up in New Jersey. Back to Ava.
I swear, at this point, I’m still “not being me” as in I wasn’t shrieking yet. The rooms were pretty much what you’d expect after meeting Mr. Cockroach and finding a mattress outside. Each had the required mold and grey – used to be white – towels set off rather nicely by dilapidated furnishings. I can’t even describe the fruity disinfectant cleaner smell.
Possibly velociraptors stayed her previously?
Here’s where I became “me”. “We are not staying here. Get back in the car, ladies.” One of them suggested that we’d already paid and couldn’t get a refund. I think she meant it. I assured her I’d make sure we got all of our money back. Which we did. By the time I was done, we’d also received an apology.
The funny thing is, I didn’t take the pictures for this blog or in case I needed them to dispute any charges with the credit card company – I took them to defend myself when Judge Ed gave me the “You just had to be you.” look.
***PPS*** Amylynn again. I want it noted here that I learned something very interesting about my Sister during this crisis. She knows what an hourly hotel smells like and likened this hotel to one. My eyebrows went up but I did not inquire as to her intimate knowledge. I figured it was best not to poke the bear.
I’m even disappointed in myself
I’m old. I’ve caved to the facts. I can no longer deny the horror of the whole thing.
I got my first pair of bifocals today.
45 sucks.
They’re totally making me nauseous and I have a headache. Fortunately the optometrist warned me this would happen for a day or so.
You shouldn’t worry about me. Just because I’m old certainly does not mean I am an adult. Or mature. Or no longer childish.
The tech at the store who was helping me get the glasses after the exam had a wonky eye. The right one worked just fine, concentrating on me and the computer screen. The left one, however, was all over the place like a chameleon.
I can tell you with one hundred percent accuracy that I am not mature enough to deal with that.
No botchulism here, thank you very much
Did you all feel a disturbance in the Force this weekend? Maybe a ripple in the fabric of space and time?
It’s entirely possible that you did. I have proof that stars aligned or the Higgs Boson fluttered or, I don’t know, perhaps Zeus proved his existence. All I know is that something exciting happened and I was a part of it.
Here is all the proof you need. 
Exhibit A – I was notified this week that I was going to need to work with the Bandit on a cake for the Blue and Gold Cub Scout dinner. It needed to represent Scouting. The idea made me want to throw up. I can’t even tell you how stressed out that made me. I can bake a fine cake, that wasn’t the scary part. What I’m not good at is getting it out of a pan–whole–and decorating it. Especially if frosting is involved. I’m not an accomplished froster. You know what I can do really well? I can eat the hell out of cake, and I can critique it like nobody’s business. Decorating? Not so much. Never the less, I present to you a cake that fairly well represents the cub scout hat in a whimsical yet totally identifiable way. In the spirit of full disclosure, My Honey did the little bear shape, but I totally went to the store to get the tube of black piping for his face. The rest is mine and the boy’s.
Exhibit B – My pop turned 76 today. He loves pie. LUUUUUURVES the pie. What he’d really like is a strawberry rhubarb pie, but rhubarb is a summer thing. So I asked him if he’d rather have plain strawberry or lemon. As you can see he picked strawberry. I’ve never made a strawberry pie from scratch before, but it was freaking GORGEOUS AND YUMMY! The strawberry filling was deliciously not too tart, not too sweet. Home run city.
I’m not getting a big head or anything. There is absolutely no risk of that. I shall not run around like a crazy person thinking I can make banana’s foster or something. Although I have a fairly good idea of what it involves, no one, least of all me, thinks I should be around flames in the kitchen.
Anyway, I’m inordinately proud of myself.
March 21
Ava has abandoned Amylynn for the exciting town of Phoenix for an even more exciting robotics contest. That means Amylynn is left to roam about alone. She had to go to the church (the Starbucks in the Barnes & Noble) by herlslf. She thought no one would pay her any attention without her Sister. The two of us always assume we’re only recognized in a pack. The Barista knew her though. “All alone today? No one to share a dessert with?” Sigh. Sadly no. It’s no fun to get fat alone. Fortunately for all involved, there were plenty of things to keep us amused this week PA (pre-abandonment). Ready, set, go.
She seems trustworthy
1. Call off the dogs. We have been following the search for the missing Malaysian airplane along with the rest of the world. We’re completely fascinated that they can track every single thing you do with your smart phone, read all your emails, know what you watch on television and what you shop for online, but they lost an entire freaking airplane. How is that possible? How? They understand that it’s a rather large metal THING, right? Anyway, you no longer have to worry. It’s been located and by no less than Courtney Love, people. Yes, apparently, Courtney has nothing better to do than search for that plane. You know honestly, this revelation goes right along with the theory that 
we were operating under and that is that it was sucked up by an alien. There’s no other reasonable explanation. Thank you, Courtney. You’re Nobel Prize is in the mail.
2. Office supply stores. We love them. We like to touch all the sticky notes and marvel at all the pretty colors and shapes. We adore the pen aisle. We want to fondle all the day calendars and notebooks. We sit in the office chairs and ogle the white boards. We don’t know why this is such a thing with us, but we also know we’re not alone. There are many, many people with an over-fondness for office supplies–especially pens. We have a lot of pens. What we can’t understand is why the people who work in the office supply store can’t comprehend that we want to 
molest their wares unbothered by their constant demands to let them help us. Leave us alone to caress the merchandise and I guarantee you’ll make more money. Back off! Jeez.
3. Personalized license plates. Normally these things annoy the hell out of us. We think there needs to be certain creative requirements when granting personalized plates. There is really nothing stupider than a Mustang with the personalized plate: SueStng. We know what kind of car you drive, bozo. Putting your name on the plate only gives us more fulfilling phrases 
to swear at you as you drive too slowly in front of us. But then we saw this motorcycle and it’s driver. You can’t see it in the picture, but her plate says: I wont. It doesn’t say what she won’t, but based on the fact that she will do lace and leather we’re imaging that what she won’t do is very intriguing indeed. Capital job with the license plate, anonymous chick. Brava.
4. This cover. Isn’t it cute? Seriously. Isn’t it? We can’t wait for you all to read this book. We just love it, if we do say so ourselves. The lovely art department over at Carina Press did a great job of conveying the fun of this book. And did you notice the pink high heel hanging off the title? That plays very prominently in the story. It’s available for preorder at Amazon and Barnes and Noble and ibooks already and will be released June 2. OK – back to the cover. Let’s have a group **SQUEEE** on three, ready?
5. Jingle jingle. A guy in New Jersey is going to spend a lot of years on 
probation for stealing $460,000 from the Public Works Department. Pretty straight forward example of embezzlement, right? Not exactly. Thomas Rica stole it all in quarters–pockets full at a time. Seriously. They believe he stole over 1.8 million quarters over the course of 25 months. He deposited all of these quarters in his bank. 1.8 million of them. I don’t know about your bank branch, but ours gives us the hairy eyeball when we come in with one roll of pennies. We do love us a creative criminal. Hey, Mr. Rica – can you spare a dime? Blahahahaahhaha
I like to call it Independant Accidental Exsanguination
I’m going to tell you all something important. I am a clumsy person. I am dramatic, too. You add dramatic and clumsy together you get an epic fail.
There is this one thing I do all the time–well at least ten times–on accident, and one of these days it’s going to kill me. I’m going to describe it here in a minute, but the reason I’m telling you the gory details now is because I don’t want you people to think I’ve been attacked when I’m found dead in a parking lot.
So picture this: I use my right hand to take the keys out of my ignition, right? Then, still using my right hand, I grab my purse off my passenger seat and slip it over my right shoulder–still holding the keys. Women generally use that same right thumb to slide under the purse strap to adjust it on your shoulder. Keep in mind that damn ignition key is sorta pointing out. That’s when I’ve repeatedly stabbed myself in the jugular. 
Now you ask, probably out loud because this tale is alarming, “Why, you stupid woman, don’t you put your keys in your purse first?”
Oh, internet, you’re forgetting that if I do that, then I have to fumble around again in the parking lot, looking for these same damn keys which will now have fallen to the deepest darkest recesses of my purse in the matter of mere seconds, to lock the car.
You see, stabbing myself is inevitable.
One of these days I’m going to bleed out in a parking lot. Just wait. It’ll happen and then you can say, “Holy shit! That’s exactly what she said would happen.” It’s like I’m psychic or something.
Woe to the chicken farmer
At least I’d feel better about my own ogling
I was at the book festival all weekend. That meant My Honey was alone with both kids. Then Sassy went to spend the night at a friend’s house, leaving the boy alone with his father. I’ll tell you I was worried about them both making it through the weekend alive.
It’s a legitimate concern.
Instead, apparently, they had fun. The Bandit told me all about some of their adventures. Some might call it tattling.
“Daddy wanted to go to lunch at Hooters,” he told me. “He said the waitress there have big boobies.”
“Oh yeah?” I said, laughing because I know how this conversation must have gone. The Bandit is still in the camp that smooching is gross and girls are icky.
“I told him, Dad! You’re married!”
“Honey,” I said with exaggerated calm, “I know that daddy looks at other women’s boobies. It’s okay.”
“Well, I’m not going to. Ick.” He seemed greatly offended at the idea.
My husband is laughing from the kitchen as I hear of his transgressions.
Later that night, we were all watching Thor 2 and a very exquisite scene comes on where a shirtless Thor is washing in a basin. Perhaps I was drooling, I don’t know. It’s possible.
I turned to My Honey and said, “You should have totally gone to Hooters, dude.”
Pretty soon we’re going to be banned from the Costco, too
We’re having fondue at work tomorrow so we took a trip over to Costco to start gathering up the necessary supplies. As soon as we got past the ridiculous workers guarding the door and checking IDs to make sure you belong there, we came across this. 
It’s a chicken coop. At Costco. Aside from the Sisters, how many people actually want chickens that this item is necessary at Costco? This causes a problem for us. Chickens were a kind of pipe dream since we couldn’t really sell our husbands on the idea since we really don’t know anything about chickens and their upkeep.
It’s a chicken coop. At Costco. Aside from the Sisters, how many people actually want chickens that this item is necessary at Costco? This causes a problem for us. Chickens were a kind of pipe dream since we couldn’t really sell our husbands on the idea since we really don’t know anything about chickens and their upkeep.
Are you my mommy?
BUT NOW – here’s a house for them. Did you see the price? Happiness for less than $170.00. Chicken happiness.
This totally looks like a chicken we’d own
Ava/Amy, in unison: Costco has an adorable chicken coop for sale. We’re getting chickens!
Husbands, in unison: Like hell you are. And stop lying, Costco does not sell chicken coops.
Ava: (fumbling with phone) Look. Here are the pictures.
Amy: (pointing, with vigor, at Ava’s phone) Yea, look at that.
Husbands: No – NO chickens.
Ava/Amy, walking away: What else can we put in there? Baby Lions! Yea, baby lions!
Husbands: Deep sigh.
A long weekend we might never recover from…cause we’re OLD
We have more proof that we’re old. We spent the entire weekend at the Tucson Festival of Books. All we did was hold down the fort in the booth
where we were selling and signing books and talked to people about what we write. Amylynn spoke on two panels and moderated one panel for others. Ava also had booth duty in our writer’s group for an hour.
We did nothing physical.
We. Are. Exhausted.
I wore the new Regency dress my mom made. Poor woman darn near had a nervous break down over it, but I think it turned out beautifully. What do you think?
Ava and I will decompress and come up with a more in-depth version of our weekend this week. Funny stuff happened, but I can’t seem to remember any of it.
It’s the Alzheimer’s.
March 14
It’s been a busy week for the Sisters. We’ve had a lot of running around to do for this weekend’s 6th Annual Tucson Festival of Books. Make sure you get there early and stay late. If you tell us you went down there because we suggested it, we’ll give you a beautiful bookmark when you stop in to see us. As busy as we were, we did take a little time out to snicker over these tidbits of funniness.
1. Cheese by any other name – The European Union wants its cheese names back.
They don’t want American companies using names like Parmesan, feta, or Gorgonzola. We think they’re a day late and a dollar short. Haven’t they ever heard someone call facial tissue a Kleenex? How about Band-Aids? The Sisters can’t ever remember Parmesan cheese being called anything but Parmesan cheese so, that’s what, thirty plus years those names have been in use here? The Canada’s have already buckled under to these outrageous demands but we’re not like the Canadians and we say NO! Gorgonzola is gorgonzola and 
that’s the end of it. At least they had the good sense to leave Mozzarella alone.
2. And the Zombie Apocalypse begins – the Sisters are always looking for the start of Zombieland. We watch the Walking Dead, not for entertainment, but as more of a how-to manual with an eye towards future events. Buried (ha ha) deep in the Desert Picayune was the story of a man who was pronounced dead, taken to a funeral home, and while being prepared for embalming – he MOVED. How the workers didn’t freak the F out and stab him in the head with a sword baffles the Sisters. We’re certain most folks passed this story by but not us. Oh no, not us. We know what was really
happening there in Mississippi and we’ll keep you posted.
3. Northern Exposure Part 2 – There are lots of crazies in this world. Case in point – a man in Barrow, Alaska who delivers pizzas. He delivers them at -40F in a Hyundai Accent after plugging it in at night and starting it every morning an hour earlier then he needs it to get the temperature up to driving range. The heater can’t be turned off or the glass will break. He can’t turn it off for even 10 minutes or it will freeze and die so it stays on all day. He wears a list of clothes that can only make him look fat. All this so he can deliver an $18.00 pizza. See? What’d we tell you? CRAZY. He needs to get a Sharpy 
and write on the top of each box “Make your own god damn pizza, it’s cold out here”
4. 3.1415926535897932384 – Today is National Pi Day. We love pie. We’re intending to eat pie for lunch today which means we won’t being going to Chipotle (Did you hear that? That was Amy cheering.). Sorry Chipotle, you don’t sell pie. Why is this funny? Do you have any idea how many people don’t know what pi is? Seriously, they have no idea. One person thought National Pi day should be in the summer because people love pie in the summer – what with all the fresh berries available then. Next year 
is going to be an even BIGGER National Pi Day. Go ahead, look back at the header, we’ll wait for you here.
5. Dinner with funny ladies. We attended the kick off dinner for the Tucson Festival of Books tonight. We do hope to see you all there this weekend if you’re in the Old Pueblo. We got to see our other Sister whom we don’t get to see near enough, and some other old friends. We had wine and rare meat and giggles with the wittiest, most charming ladies ever. If you want to have a great time, track down a bunch of writers. They are hilarious!