Saturday, August 28, 2010

Ain't Nothin' Like the Real Thing

Honestly, sometimes I think I'm actually living the events I talk about on my blog.  I mean, yes, of course, the stories on my blog are true-as-far-as-you-know, but then real life comes along and imitates my backordered life, and before you know it things have gone all Inception on me.   

Remember when I told you about my little addiction to other people's hoarding problem?  And how my kids are pretty sure I'm one unsupervised weekend away from being swept up in an avalanche of empty McDonald's cups and Peanut Butter M&M bags?

Well, the ca-RAZIEST thing happened this week, right here in Las Vegas.  I know!  Who would expect crazy things to happen in Vegas?  I blame global warming.

The remains of a 66-year old woman who has been missing since April were found in her house - after her husband removed five tons of trash from the room.  And what's worse, she had been buried under her own hoard!  It had just sorta toppled over onto her.  There was so much garbage in her home that the fragrance threw off the police dogs back when she first disappeared.  It's a real story with real victims, so no making fun.  But geez-aloo, there but for the grace of Hefty...

And remember when I realized that crushing on Orlando Bloom kind of made me a lesbian?  Well, recently that discovery gave me a wonderful opportunity to clear the air with a woman of my acquaintance, allowing us to start with a fresh, clean slate.

In an e-mail o' bravery, she had suggested in rather cranky terms that I disliked her because she contracted homosexuality a couple of years ago.  (She also contracted an allergy to wearing makeup, washing her hair, and just saying "no" to pastries.) 

Well, before Orlando came along and made me temporarily gay, I wouldn't have been able to convince her that I had no problem whatsoever with her lifestyle choice.  But now, being all empathetic after having walked a mile in her Birkenstocks, I assured her that I really disliked her because she was a hateful, hostile demon-troll, calculatingly determined to make everyone around her miserable while at the same demonstrating all the emotional stability of a damp hornets' nest.

I think she and I have turned a corner in our relationship.  I really do.  And I owe it all to Legolas and his tiara.

(It's possible I only thought the words 'hateful, hostile demon-troll'.  And also that part about hornets.  And I don't really remember saying the word 'damp'.  But I totally told her everything else.  Oh, except the stuff about 'calculating' and 'emotional stability'.  And, now that I think about it, she technically does not wear Birkenstocks.  Everything else up there, however, is completely verbatim.)

And finally, remember when I shared with you my continuing efforts to ruin my children's lives, smushing all their dreams and giving a metaphorical wedgie to any chance of happiness?

Well, Vanessa and I went school shopping with Jake, who is starting high school and is feeling a little, let's say, anxious about the whole social scene.  You remember 14, right?  Yeah, he's got it in spades.

And Jake was in a dressing room, trying on jeans, while Ness and I waited on a couple of metal chairs right outside the door, facing the room.  The aisle was narrow, and this was one of those hippie mod dressing rooms where any and all carbon based life forms can try on clothes if they can get past the ladies on the folding metal chairs.

(Remember when we were absolutely convinced that co-ed dressing rooms would lead to global firestorm, plagues of locusts, and reality television?  Well, look around.  It's the apocalypse, baby.)

Anyway, Jake emerged from the dressing room in his new jeans, and I leaned up, and, as is clearly mandated in the Mother Handbook, took hold of the seat, gave it several meaningful tugs, and squawked, "They look a little loose in the bum.  How do they feel?  Are they loose in the bum?"

And all the while, I was tugging on his bottom.

Until my daughter said quietly, "Uh, mom?"

At which point, I looked up, and discovered that I had blocked the dressing room aisle, and was actively preventing an absolutely ADORABLE girl of perhaps 15 from getting past Jake's fitting session.

This was two days ago.  Jacob is still at the mall, having sealed himself into the stall as he waits for starvation or, more likely, sheer, abject humiliation, to kill him.

So, you know, my work there is done.

Add to that the ... er ... difficulties I initially had in being released from a calling I've held for more than nineteen years, and the unfortunate fact that I had to deal with several recalcitrant chin hairs all by myself because my husband has been gone since Monday, and well, it's been quite a week here at Chez Bac-Ordeur.

Y'know?  I think I preferred it when I was just making this stuff up.

28 comments:

Mikki said...

cool, #1!

Ok, so here's the problem with just popping over to read DeNae's latest post at one o'clock in the morning--you linked to like what, three other fantastic posts that I hadn't read before(the recalcitrant chin hairs post and it's accompanying comments about killed me!), and now it's later than I meant to stay up. So you know, thanks for extending my bedtime by half an hour. My husband thanks you too. ;P

Seriously, woman. You should be writing a book. You're freaking awesome!

Beka said...

Love it! Good luck to Jake, that really is classic! Can I get a copy of that Handbook? Right now I'm all for ruining my kids' lives.

Thanks for another fab post and for making me smile so early in the a.m. (actually, hubs thanks you for that last part!)

Zach said...

I'm moving up in the world! I don't have to settle for being the 493rd comment-ator I made it to #3! And More importantly, I beat cheeseboy!

Denae, your posts are great! I thouroughly enjoy reading them. Keep up the great work!

Lara said...

That ranks pretty high on the list of ways to ruin your child's life. Good goin' mom! (poor Jake)

And, I empathize with you completely now that I just got released from my YW Pres calling that I have only had for a year. I cried all night. Partly because I hate to leave my Young Woman (yes all one of her) and partly because I am really not looking forward to my new calling (pretty sure it's similar to your new calling).

Kristina P. said...

I wondered if that woman who dies was you. You could practically be twins. Except for the 66 year-old part. Oh, and the part where you don't live in a pigsty.

But totally twinners.

HalfAsstic.com said...

Holy guacamole! You are totally my new crush! Wait! Did that sound lesbian? It shouldn't, cause it's not, but if it was, please note that I have showered and applied deodorant and make up. (OK, not the makeup, but crap! it's Saturday!)
I am just very adoring of anyone who goes about the job of ruining her teenagers lives with the attention to detail that you are showing.
Bravo! I am awed!

seashmore said...

My mom could learn a few things from you. She always said, "A parent's number one job is to embarrass and humiliate her children at every opportunity," (which she actually quoted verbatim to us) but you put her to shame. (I don't think she had the handbook.)

But that first story has motivated me to do the cleaning I really planned to do today.

T said...

man, I've been doing it wrong all these years because I've certainly never tugged on my son's bum in public. (or in private for that matter)

and I don't care if it makes me a lesbian sympathizer, Orlando Bloom is still hot. I'm glad you got that thing sorted with the demon troll though.

Cheeseboy said...

Now THAT would be an episode of "Hoarders" worth watching!

Your husband went out of town at just the right time.

Donna said...

when do we find out the new calling? What calling did you have for 19 years....

Hel said...

DeNae, I am thinking of starting a chin hairs support group. So when our husbands leave us for more important things (psshhht, "more" important), we can get each other through the disastrous days when we realise at the END of the day that there was a really long black hair sticking out for all the world to see.

I feel as though it is a parent's right to swing the door wide open in a changing room while their offspring is in the process of trying on a bra. It just feels like the world wouldn't be right if your children didn't have that "story" to tell.

ExpressMom said...

You're hysterical. But, I do the same as Mikki: Think I'll come and get quick chuckle but instead end up reading (&giggling) for ages.

But, I am off to bed now. I have not humiliated my kids in public in at least a week and this post reminded me! I must go and ponder all the opportunities tomorrow may bring.

Allyson & Jere said...

I may have mentioned this a time or 12, but FOR REALS! You slay me to levels not yet known for laughter. I clicked on that errant hair post...

Ummm, TEARS, REAL TEARS I was laughing so hard. And perhaps I was laughing so hard because, well, I know that entire scenario far to well. Working my chin hairs is a full time job my husband just can't keep up with. But he will obsessively chase me around to work on the random nose hairs that have gone astray. So, IF that is true love, then I guess we've made it.

Loved everything about this post, horader lady, lesbian lady (would love to know the full story there), embarassing son story, ALL OF IT!

Thank you for being so thoroughly YOU and so brilliantly funny.

Beth Zimmerman said...

Stories like that should probably motivate me to clean my clutter but they always make me feel better about myself instead. Like ... at least I'm not THAT bad yet!

Kazzy said...

Yeah, I think it would have been worse if you were yelling that his jeans were too tight on his bum and slapping back there. That would have been way worse.

The buried alive story is scary. Did she die from being buried, or was it just an afterthought?

And your Birkenstock friend sounds charming.

Wonder Woman said...

I'm still in chock over the woman being killed and buried by her own crap lying around. Sad and sick and sad.

Glad to know you've scarred your son. It builds character.

Christine Macdonald said...

Boy I've been gone too long! You always make me smile and want to reach through my computer to high five you. I know.... who does that anymore? I don't care. I adore you!

Say cool, Vegas Sistah.

Christine

Garden of Egan said...

When I read about the lady in Vegas that they found, I seriously IMMEDIATELY thought of you! Not that you're a hoarder or anything, but cuz you live in Vegas therefore must be related. (Say hi to the Pawn Stars by the way)

Way to ruin your son's high school career. Nothing like having mum tug on his bum!

That Girl said...

The trash thing? Completely grosses me out. Ew.

Melanie said...

Truth is way funnier than fiction, thanks for proving it!

charrette said...

I'm forwarding the part about the lady who died under her hoard to my aunt...it could save her life!

And bless you for making my day by writing this sentence: "I assured her that I really disliked her because she was a hateful, hostile demon-troll"!

XO

JoeinVegas said...

You left out the important part: were those jeans too loose in the bum?
Does he now just request the credit card and go off shopping on his own?

AS Amber said...

Poor Jake! That's awesome. I actually read this post yesterday in sacrament meeting but couldn't comment because.....well actually because I went from here to your post about testimony. That was the topic of the talks yesterday and I wished I could read that post from the pulpit! But I digress....

That story about the woman in Vegas is unbelievable!! I can't even imagine the stench in there. Remember my trailer with rotting ANIMAL meat in it? Imagine human rot smell. I just gagged.

I assume Romeo has made it home now? Yay!!# I know how you miss him :)

InkMom said...

Priceless, DeNae. Just priceless.

My mom used to think it was cool to do things like, oh, I don't know, yell, "Hunk alert!" when she saw a young man approaching who she thought to be particularly fetching. Totally, completely, mortifyingly embarrassing. But, hey, it's her job. I just read a David Sedaris essay where he tries to get his mom to buy him new glasses because his old ones make him look like a bozo. "They're glasses," she says. "That's what they're for."

So way to go for magnifying your calling as a mother!

Becca said...

See what happens when I get busy? I miss DAYS of comedy by way of DeNae's Virtual Clip Show.

Debbie said...

First of all, I'm not sure what my excuse was in April for not reading and commenting on the Orlando post. Unless it was just jealousy. Cause Orlando is my man. And yes, he is a man. I was never a Legolas fan but William Turner - now there is a man who knows how to wield a sword.
I'm sorry. I drooled a little on my computer there for a minute.
And as for the dressing room mishap - it could and does happen to all of us. One day we are holding them up and sniffing of their backside to see if we need to strip it and disinfect it then the next day we are not supposed to touch it or discuss it. I can't keep up with changes that fast.

The Crash Test Dummy said...

YOU ARE KIDDING ME!! About the woman being buried beneath her own junk. Wow!

And hahahahaha about the rest.

P.S. You are so right about the 40's. High five sistah~!

You will not believe your verifier.
Buredeat

Braden said...

I'm in the school library and was laughing almost as hard as I laughed that once I read your post in high council meeting until I came to the part about your son and the cute girl. Now I am dying a thousand empathetic deaths for the poor kid. He's probably irreparably damaged at this point. Ouch!!!!!!