Swing'n On A Star and All That Jazz

To know me now, people would never guess that at any point in my life I was shy. I was in fact, very shy until I met my friend Helen. She used to always say, and probably still does, "fuck em if they can't take a joke." I totally agree. Nothing's worse than a person who either doesn't get it or spends most of their waking hours looking as if they stepped in dog shit. I'm not saying that you should walk around being so bubbly and happy you give people cavities, but Jeeezus lighten up. But back to my reason for this blog. During a visit to my cousins' house and while horsing around in the front yard with some of their friends (all males), somehow I managed to show my underwear (I think I fell and one of the boys pulled down my shorts) and wouldn't you know it I had a hole. Well, from then on I was known as Holey Underwear. Obviously that wasn't anything that was bringing me out of my shell. To add insult to injury my second nickname with these same ...

My husband and I went to Chili's yesterday for linner (for those of you unfamiliar with the word, that's lunch and dinner combined). When we go we always sit in the bar section at one of those tall, round tables and order margaritas (my husband has the Presidente and I have the Top Shelf with a side kick of Grande Mariner, on the rocks, no salt). One of my favorite things to do is people watch. Most of the tables were full so the people coming later sat at the bar. There was a nice looking young man sitting alone enjoying a beer. There were other couples and singles doing the same thing. They all looked rather normal and perhaps friendly, fun-loving people. Then enters a couple, older. By that I mean late forties or early fifties. They looked around for a booth or table and since the only one available was next to us, they opted for the bar. I wasn't offended by this because perhaps unconsciously this couple knew that I would annoy them to no end. You see I...