Home Sweet Home

I landed in Idaho Falls about four days ago for a visit.  I was supposed to fly in so that I could drive my family to our new home in Rhode Island, but since the deal on my Idaho home fell through, it transformed into a vacation... at my empty house... that I can't seem to sell...  Thankfully, I love Idaho Falls and I love my empty house that I can't sell.  In addition, I love Jared and his horrible babies, so my vacation has really been quite pleasant.  The best part about vacationing in the town I come from is all the familiar things that never seem to change.  Take it from me, stability can be quite comforting and wonderful - for instance, good friends.  I don't have many, but the few I have are supportive and kind.  I can always count on at least one of them begging for a visit when I come home and it's nice to be liked and loved.  Here's my friend Cynthia who just had her appendix out.

We have quite a personal history together and it's always nice to see her.  I have a few more friend visits as my vacation progresses and I'll enjoy seeing each of them just as much as I enjoy Cynthia.

What else can I count on?

My lovely daughter Hannah telling me she hates me at least once.  She's apologized twice for being a brat so far this trip  and I'm counting on at least two more episodes.  I don't enjoy her nasty side, but there's something comforting in being able to practice my mom lectures about respect and dignity.  We all have a purpose in this life and mine is to deal with Hannah - I'm truly blessed.

I also cannot come to Idaho without a bit of this:

Yep.  Reed's Dairy.  I'm especially psyched because eggnog is in season right now.  I've had a waffle cone already plus I paid nearly 10 bucks for one quart of eggnog and one quart of chocolate milk.  It's darned expensive liquid, but worth every penny.  I have tasted some decent ice cream in the East but have yet to find Reed's Dairy's equal.  We may not have much in Idaho, but the stuff we have is top notch.

My final tradition?  This little weasel:

My baby Bubba is a blabbermouth, a bully, and a diva, all rolled into a tiny blonde frame.  She's spent my entire vacation pestering to play on my phone, bullying her sisters, and tonight, played her most annoying card.

She's a MAJOR tub crasher.  She crashed Emma's tub earlier this evening, then crammed into mine.  Even if she sat perfectly still she'd annoy me, but add in her splashing, gossip, and rude commentary on my jiggly body, and she's downright intolerable.  Why don't I kick her out you ask?  Because.  She's my baby, she still likes me and my fat stomach, and it's become tradition for her to crash my tub.  The day she no longer fits or no longer asks, a part of me will die.  At that point, it will take at least 20 dollars worth of chocolate milk and/or eggnog to take the edge off my grief.

I have over a week left to hang in the Gem State and I'm grateful for the chance to be with my family for awhile and just enjoy all the bliss my hometown has to offer...  Whats that Hannah?  You hate me again?  That's fine but can you bring me some chocolate milk?  Just follow the sounds of Bubba slapping my fat gut because I'll be drinking my bliss in the tub tonight...

Where are You Sarah Richards?

My father has this ridiculous idea that the reason the job in Rhode Island seemed right to me, is that we have ancestors in our family line that we cannot locate.  This thought is supported by at least two other lunatics, one of whom is my brother Sam.  He is on board because he has caught the genealogy bug and has been trying to trace a few souls for over a year now.  Turns out my father's line hailed from New England many generations ago.  When they traveled west with the Mormon pioneers, I guess all the posterity but me decided to stay.  Whatever the reason for my move East, I have been sucked into my brother's nefarious plans to locate with certainty what has happened to our ancestors.  I traveled to Camden, Maine for some investigating rather early after my move to Rhode Island, and that trip yielded more questions than answers.  As such, I agreed to head back yesterday for some graveyard reconnaissance.

The first problem I encountered when I arrived was my bladder.  I had to pee so badly and there were no public restrooms anywhere close to the cemetery.  What was a girl to do?  Well, this girl found some bushes, crawled in deep, said a prayer I wouldn't pee on my pants or shoes or get caught by anyone, then I shared my shame with everyone on Snapchat.  See:

 

I felt slightly ashamed for being willing to drop my knickers so fast, but was appreciative of the relief.  Note to self:  bring TP and a TP disposal device for future reconnaissance because waiting for my labia to dry after urinating really wigs me out....

My second problem arose immediately after I drained my bladder because the map for the cemetery on the city of Camden's website is from the 1940s and did not really match the present day cemetery.  I have zero sense of direction and when you add in a bad map, I am absolutely useless.  My solution was to call my idiot brother who sent me on the body quest in the first place.  I would stand in front of a headstone, give him name and date of death, he would search for the plot number on the website, then try to navigate me with the bad map.  I spent 3 hours in the burying yard trying to triangulate my location in this manner.  Did I find any family bodies?  You bet I did:

But...  Not the main one I wanted:  Sarah Richards.  Round two lost apparently.  This woman continues to be an enigma for my brother and I guess now for me since I've been sucked into his nonsense.  I suppose the disappointment over not finding Sarah was my last problem of the day.  Having nothing more to do, I headed home to Rhode Island and even though I was lucky to find an extra cemetery to search on my way, I still wasn't lucky enough to find my missing body.  Despite my multiple problems, I did have a victory in New Hampshire:

This is where I got to use indoor plumbing again and properly wipe my feminine regions and wash my hands.  A thing of beauty I must say.  I may or may not have also purchased some Smoked Gouda and Chives chips at that stop which I nearly finished on my own prior to arriving back in Rhode Island.  I'll let you draw your own conclusions just for fun.

Where are you Sarah Richards?  You were supposed to be in Camden, Maine but I was just there so maybe we missed each other.  Don't worry.  I haven't given up and neither has my brother because he wondered if I was close to another place that may hold some clues about you and your husband:  Westerly, Rhode Island.  Stupid non Rhodies.  They just don't understand that you can drive to ANYWHERE in Rhode Island from ANYWHERE else in Rhode Island in no more than 40 minutes as long as traffic is good.  I only teased him a little and then assured him I'd love to travel to Westerly.  I've already checked out Misquamicut State Beach there and find it quite lovely.  Maybe if I can find a clue about Sarah I would deserve some Del's lemonade afterward...  Hang on Sarah, here I come...

Roller Derby Anyone?

Earlier this week, I heard something about roller derby on the radio and decided to find out if Rhode Island has any teams.  In fact, they have a whole league!  I've never been to a roller derby match but have always wanted to watch one.  I bought tickets and convinced my frat house owner, Renee, as well as her daughter, to join me.  It ended up being a championship bout with 4 teams playing for the title.  I naturally felt lucky because I figured I'd get more for my buck than on a normal derby night when only one match would be played.

They held the championship near West Warwick High School in a basketball type arena.  Renee and I were surprised to find that the track was just pasted on the floor with colored duct tape.  After we got comfortable, I spent the next 20 minutes wondering just how long it took some sucker to construct such an elaborate track.  I had to admit I was quite impressed.  I can barely wrap duct tape around something in a straight line if I'm fixing it - let alone try to make huge ovals on a gym floor with various markings on it to boot..

After I got over my duct tape awe, I turned my attention to the chicks roller skating around the track.  Know what one of the best things about Roller Derby is?  The names!  You had broads named "Smashley Olsen" and "Shreddy Roosevelt."  How about, "SmackGyver" and "Elbowya?"  I could go on and on.  Just awesome.  As I sat admiring all the names on all the different teams, I noticed a particularly ridiculous name:  "Nutritional Beast."  Excuse me?  Of all the threatening or hilarious names you could have chosen, you went with "Nutritional Beast?"  I wonder if her own teammates beat the crap outta her for that gem.  I'd like to say that she won back some of my respect when it was her turn to be the Jammer, but unfortunately, she wasn't anything close to a beast -  nutritional or otherwise.  Here the Old Money Honeys are getting ready to go up against the Boston Commons:

Boston came over from... well, Boston, but still, I'm sure the Providence Roller Derby League was happy to have some extra meat for the championship.  Boston actually lost to the Old Money Honeys in the first match.  I don't know if I should be happy or not about that since I'm so new to roller derby, but I guess since I'm a Rhody now, I probably should be glad anytime anyone from my state beats someone from Massachusetts.  Have I mentioned that many Rhode Islanders call them "Massholes," because they are such crappy drivers?...  I digress...

How was it?  It was ok.  I looked up the rules online and then asked the dude next to me what was going on anytime I got confused.  He was more than happy to help and mentioned that it took him four years to figure it all out.  Four years?  How much roller derby do you watch dude?  Are you here for "Nutritional Beast" because for some reason that seems to fit.  I wish I could say that it was so enthralling that I stayed for all 3 matches.  However, my frat house mates and I bailed after the Honeys won and finished the night out at Chilis.  We let Renee's daughter choose the spot and for some reason, eating at Chilis after roller derby seemed right too.  And in case you were wondering, I did not see "Nutritional Beast" there. 

Will I go again?  Probably.  Especially if it's a night where only one match is being skated.  Do I love roller derby now?  Will I eat, sleep, and dream about it?  No.  But it was a fairly inexpensive way to kill a few hours.  Despite the fact that it was less exciting than I thought it would be, I have to admit that watching those skating babes smack their ovaries on the floor whenever they took a tumble was almost as fantastic as their awesome names.  Well, everyone that is except "Nutritional Beast"...   





   

Frat House

Yesterday, I had to move into a new apartment because my lease was up on Joe's place and I haven't been able to purchase a house yet in Rhode Island.  I've been worried for weeks about where I was going to go, but one of the ladies I work with, Renee, let me move into her home until I could finalize my housing plans.  A few days ago, she warned me that her brother, his girlfriend, and his girlfriend's son, also needed an emergency place to crash, and so would be moving in along with me.  My first thought?  FRAT HOUSE!  Unfortunately, Renee is kind and also a grownup, so there were no beer kegs, coeds with their boobies busting out of wet t-shirts, or the smell of vomit on the air when I showed up last night.  I have considered that Renee is saving the frat house scene for later because she's worried about what I would think about her initially.  Either way, I am grateful to have somewhere to go, so I really don't care how it all plays out...  as long as I continue to have a place to sleep.

 It would have been nice if my only worry yesterday was moving but I also had to work.  This meant I would spend my day being busy in the office,  then I would have to go home and do my laundry, then finish cleaning my old apartment before I could vacate the premises;  I felt like I was back in college.  I moved so many times through my single college days and it never bugged me.  However, I'm an old married lady now and I like stability.  These last six months have been anything but stable and I'm sick of it!  I moved to the East exactly six months ago today with nothing but two suitcases, a small cooler for my snacks, and a few new appliances to put in the house that I would buy some day.  Literally everything I owned fit in my Honda accord.  Guess what?  Everything I own still fits in my Honda and it was easy getting it all over to Renee's.  Ease aside, I'm still sick of this nonsense and want a place to put down my roots again.  Even this Snapchat pic my friend Alyssa sent at the beginning of my crappy moving day didn't help my stress:

She's pretty funny - but not funny enough to make me stop feeling sorry for myself!

Last night, after getting everything crammed into my Honda, I decided I was hungry and against my better judgment, decided to try Chipotle for the first time.  All I ever hear is how great Chipotle is, but most of the folks telling me how great it is are white, and most white folks don't know anything about good Mexican food.  How was it?

Big.  The end.  Sorry people.  I've had too much excellent Mexican food both here in the US and in Mexico and Chipotle ain't good Mexican food.  I knew from the moment I walked in I'd be disappointed.  For starters, it was filled with these types of folks...

Stupid white Millenials.  It was also too sharp and clean.  No obnoxious Mariachi music playing...  No gaudy decor...  Worst of all?  No brown skinned folks to be seen.  You gotta pick ethnic restaurants filled with ethnic people.  If you don't see the race of people who belong to the food genre you're sampling, I can guarantee your meal is going to be watered down American slop.  Hate me if you wish, but I know I'm right.

After the Chipotle debacle, I finally made it to Renee's, unpacked in a flash because I don't own anything right now, and settled into my new digs.  Here's proof:

Renee's home is comfortable and it's nice to have my housing shortage solved for awhile.  However, I'm feeling really sad that I don't have Joe to spy on anymore.  Gail the landlady stopped by as I was finishing cleaning my apartment and I told her to tell Joe goodbye and that I would miss spying on him.  She laughed because I think she was thought I was kidding, but I know the real truth.

I'm grateful for generous friends.  I'm glad I never have to be traumatized by Chipotle again.  I'm also on high alert so that I don't miss any frat house activities Renee may be planning for me.  Don't let my positivity fool you though, because I'm so ready for this to be over.  I want my husband...   I want my kids...  I actually want the opposite of a frat house...  Yep.  I want my old lady life back...