Tag Archives: humor

“Walk-ing. You know, Walking?” Just Sayin’.

The temperature has finally started to creep up from the range where I am forced to use random exclamations in the place of a good cuss, and so I walked the short distance to the store to grab a couple of items yesterday.

When the express lane attendant started to bag my purchases, I unzipped my backpack and said “Oh, I’ll just stick those in here, I am walking.”

This statement is almost the rule, and NOT the exception at the grocery store where Urban Keri shopped, and certainly not any big deal.

Suburban checker lady looked at me like I was on fire, actually burning there while standing in front of her.

I took the milk from her hand and put it into the backpack, raising my eyebrows in a kind of “see how this works?” expression.

Not so much.

I walked away, resisting the urge to sarcastically tell her that my minivan was in the shop.

 

Just Sayin’.

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Local Love – Valentine’s Day

Ahhhhh Valentine’s Day.

Cards and Conversation Hearts; chocolates and flowers; strawberries and champagne….

(Or a big middle finger to the greeting card companies and a desire to turn Cupid’s bow and arrow right back at his diaper-clad little self.  To each their own, eh?)

Having been in the floral design industry for a good part of my 20’s, I confess I am somewhere in between. I lean toward cussing the whole thing and assaulting the cherub, but I do love any excuse to eat an amazing meal.  (Unless you bring me flowers – in which case I will shove them up your nose and stomp on your foot as I turn to walk away.  I have floral industry Valentine’s Day induced flower trauma.)

So, where do you go if you want to show your honey some Local Love this Valentine’s Day?

A few suggestions:

I would rather get the tar-and-feather treatment with a vat of molten chocolate fondue and the stuffing from a red-and-pink teddy bear than go out to a restaurant on or around February 14th.  The only day that is a bigger nightmare for dinner out is New Year’s Eve, FFS.  Skip the crowds and pre-set menus and drop in to your local butcher for the perfect steak (or chop, or a selection of charcuterie, or something else special and delicious,) to make a meal that is sure to show your other just how significant he or she is to you.  If the idea seems a bit intimidating to you, stop by Wally’s Quality Meats . The staff is approachable and quick to offer suggestions both for selection and preparation,  they will lead you to the perfect pick (and preparation,) to wow your Valentine.

Sweets for your sweetie!  You have to have a little something sweet on Valentine’s Day, right?  Of course.  Two of my favorites from around the area:

Sweet Cow – The original store in Louisville sees a lot of action from this family. So good. So. Dang. Good.

Indulge Bakery –  Red velvet cupcakes, people.  Come on now.  (Or Salted Carmel.  Or Butterscotch pie.  Oooo, or Cookies!!)

Wine. CLEARLY you are going to need wine to compliment the fabulous meal you are about to whip up, (or to cover up for not listening to Keri about Wallys’s and serving Chipotle by candle light instead. ) Even if you have your everyday favorites, a special bottle of something grape can be THE thing that marks an occasion and sets it apart.  For this reason a visit to  The Wine Cellar (attached to Wine and Cheese,) at the Orchard Town Center is in order. Tell them what you are preparing, tell them what you like (or don’t,) and they will assist you in selecting a bottle (or two.. ahem.. why not?) This is a boutique approach to wine, so every bottle is a stand out, and (fair warning,) stopping in for something new here can be a bit addictive.  You’ll be back.

Maybe you need a little gifty to bestow upon your beloved? Now if you are me, nothing says loving (to be given OR received by Keri,) like a growler or two from Big Choice Brewing. But if beer doesn’t = romance to you then I have just three words for you:  Curating The Cool. A fun and funky and, in keeping with its name, very well curated selection of vintage, along with handmade items.  Hint, the perfect change-his-life gift for your guy is a selection of Mod Cabin shaving and grooming products, which CtC carries.  You are welcome.

But Keri, ONLY flowers will do.  She/he/whatever EXPECTS the flowers.  I can’t skip the flowers.

Then call  Lafayette Florist. Or better yet, stop by and talk to the designers.  Skip the internet flowers-wedged-in-shipping-box situation and have a conversation with these folks to get something special that shows you didn’t just “get flowers.”  You got an arrangement that will appeal to the recipient.   The great designers at Lafayette did my wedding flowers and they were beautiful, elegant, perfection.  (It is not easy to please a floral designer on her wedding day, believe me. They did.)

Hint – if flowers are your goal, shop now. Like, maybe don’t finish reading this, just get on the blower or in the car and shop NOW.  Except do finish reading this first, because hello – Keri worked hard on it and that’s just rude.  Seriously though, if you want Valentine’s Day delivery, or even a nice arrangement to pick up and hand deliver yourself, get that squared away today, because calling on the day (or the day before,) is going to make for an extreme uphill battle.

There you have it – your NoBurbs Valentine’s Day  survival  – nay – THRIVAL guide. (Yep.  That’s not a word. That’s what I do, people.)

Use it well, and remember:  when it comes to steak, cupcakes, and wine, sometimes NOT having a significant other is a good thing.  :::Side-eyeing The Mr.::::  Protecting your portion can be so much work.

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Can’t trust that day. Just Sayin’.

I hauled myself out of bed this morning to find that my tube of mascara, my favorite bra, and the length of my bangs had all jumped the shark.

Such a thin line between “sweet spot,” and “too far gone,” and it always seems to happen some time between Sunday night and Monday morning.

Just Sayin’.

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SHIVER ME TIMBERS!!

Keri can be a bit salty.
I love a well-chosen swear-word, it is true. When speaking colorfully, sometimes only off-color will do.
We are all adults here, so why fight it, right?
Except not-so-much.
Enter the toddler. He repeats stuff. At truly horrifying times.

Let’s just say that at least one of the things in this early 2000’s commercial has actually been said by me.  And repeated by Jr.

I will NEVER tell which it is. (Ok, get a few in me and I kind of love to tell the story – but I will never WRITE IT DOWN for my five many readers to see here.)

This means that I have to be a wee bit choosy in my excited utterances and, um, decorative phrasing, let’s just call it.

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!!

Our recent trip to Texas helped quite a bit with everyday, run-of-the-mill type needs – slam finger in cabinet? “Oh Sssssssugar… hey there Jr, Mommy is glad she saw you there.  Sugar, mommy said Sugar.”

A good old-fashioned southern “BLESS MY SOUL!!” always works close to as well as a firm “HOLY HELL!” (one of my faves, but the former is probably better for my relationship with The J.C. anyhoo, so, I guess it’s good to replace that one even without Jr.)

BUT the cold lately has really brought out the need for extreme language.  (FYI, I live in Colorado, I know it is cold here sometimes.  Seriously though people,  when “zero” is the warmest it gets for days, that is not typical Colorado cold. )

Even if I manage to contain myself when I exit daycare with Jr. in tow, by the time I get him into his Jr. seat, correctly buckled and tightened, and all of his blankies tucked around on top of that (safety AND warmth, that’s my motto,) I have been standing out in the cold for quite a piece of time.

It’s the damn blessed frozen jeans thing, folks.  Sitting down in my seat and having that cold denim tighten down on my upper legs? I lose verbal control.

Well, mostly – because I have managed NOT to actually curse.  BUT it has resulted in some truly spectacular replacement phrases, such as:

“SHIVER ME TIMBERS!!”

“FIBBER McGEE AND MOLLY!!” (too much radio classics on Sirius)

“OLD MOTHER HUBBARD!”

“MOTHER MARY MAY I?!”

“STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON!” (throwback to my hardcore roots.  giggle snort.)

“SON OF A MOTHERLESS GOAT!!” (I think I stole this from Steve Martin. Not sure though.)

“AMARILLO  BY MORNING!!”

“SWEET SASSY MOLASSY!!” (Yeah, that’s from a women’s bowling skit on SNL, Keri.  And it kind of annoyed you, so why is is coming up now?)

“JOHNNY CASH!”

Each of these things gets “IT’S COLD OUT HERE” or “MY PANTS ARE FREEZING” stuck on the end of them…

Basically it is like speaking in tongues but from the not-quite-frozen depths of my memory.

It actually really hits the spot – satisfies the need for some sort of exclamation and also instills a sense of pride at the control AND the creativity.

Then again – what do you do with a 2 year old who drops his glass of milk and yells ” WELCOME BACK KOTTER!!  MY MILK!!!” in the middle of school snack time?

Hey, I’m trying.

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Songs you know by heart

I would love to say that I am getting better about accidently ending up in places from my past, but on Tuesday afternoon I set out to hit the Asian market and ended up behind the Mexican restaurant where I used to work in high school.

BUT – I did not get out, or even start to get out before I became aware of my mistake – AND to my credit, the place I was going and the place where I ended up are at least kind of close together.

So, babysteps, eh?

In the past few weeks I have noticed that my memory-lane autopilot isn’t limited to just my absent-minded driving.  It is a sickness that runs much deeper than just added miles on Frederico’s odometer.  I spend a freakish amount of time fighting the natural urges that this town branded into my impressionable teenage soul. Oh yes, all of the “natural” actions and reactions of my youth here are still down in there, trying to guide me.  The thing is, 17 year-old Keri’s perfect solutions are WAY less-than-acceptable for 37 year-old just-beyond-20ish Keri.  Examples?  Oh, ho ho!  OF COURSE I will give examples:

-Going into the 7/11 for a trash-can-sized Big Gulp of Dr Pepper seems like a fantastic idea for that old version of Keri.  Dr. Pepper is delicious, caffeine keeps Keri keepin’ on, and more is always better – yo?

No.  That Keri had the metabolism of a hummingbird on fen/phen.  That Keri could pound coffee at Village Inn all night and drift into a dead sleep an hour later.  That Keri knew not what “bloating” was.  Nowadays if I want to Be A Pepper I will be running all over the damn neighborhood to burn off the calories, not to mention cleaning the bathroom floor grout with a tooth brush at 3 a.m. because I am WIDE-EFFING-AWAKE, all while burping like a frat boy from the fizz.  Nope.

-Cruising down the old “main drag” with windows down, blaring Jimmy Buffet on sunny days.  There was NOTHING that Keri loved more than taking advantage of the slow speed limit on Midway Blvd to open the windows, crank up “Son of a Sailor,” and roll by the park to see who might be playing  volleyball/lounging in the high altitude sunshine.  Oh yeah.

DEAR GOD OH NO.   Cruising the park blasting old person party music in the MUV?  While I am far from any danger of being the extra lame “I’m the cool mom” who tries too hard to impress the young folks, (think Mrs. George from Mean Girls,) even Keri has her pride – and that is social-mom reputation suicide.  When your husband crosses into the 40-plus category, “a Pirate Looks at 40” kind of loses a certain mythical quality, anyhoo.   :::: rolling windows up and lowering volume::::

-Meeting “at the water tower” when we aren’t sure what to do.

Ok , this isn’t really something I want to do any more.  It is actually something I wish I had a grown-up replacement for.  Making plans with a friend or a group of friends and all are non-committal about exactly where to go or what to do?  Tired of having suggestions shot down and just want to get the show on the road, pronto?  “Just go to the water tower and we will decide there,” was the old answer, and it did manage to get things moving.  Then again, it was also usually accompanied by “beep me if anything changes,” so yeah – that was a pain in the ass.

However, the closest pay phone to the water tower was at the 7/11.

I probably needed another  Dr. Pepper anyway.

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