Request Granted

This post is at the request of my AC, who is part of the story. And I'm totally giggling just remembering!

Background Info:
My Mama drove my truck for a few days while I was on a trip and loved it. So she bought herself one. The exact one. My Mama buys new cars like they're earrings.

I used to go get a mani every two weeks at Style Salon downtown.

OK, the story goes like this:
I was just leaving Style after a Mani, apparently about 3 seconds (literally) before AC walked in for an eyebrow wax. She pulled up in her schnazzy little jeep at Palafox and Gregory, and happened to look over at the stoplight across the median where she saw my truck and a person driving which she thought was me. So she proceeds to jump around waving and yelling, "ASH HAM!" and as the truck begins to go through the light the person driving is waving back frantically. AC yells, "I LOVE YOU!" to the truck and the truck driver yells, "I LOVE YOU TOO!" about the time AC realizes it isn't me. All the while I'm about a half block away trying to walk without smudging my nails. How funny is God??

So my phone rings, and it's Mama, and I manage to answer it without doing too much damage to my nails. Mama proceeds to tell me that she just met the CUTEST Fairly while she was driving because an, "Adorable girl was getting out of a Jeep on Palafox and started waving at her and yelling that she loved ME! So I yelled I loved her back!"

"Mama, did you know who it was?"

"No, I didn't know who it was, Ash, but when someone yells they love you you just say it back! And she was jumping and waving!"

"She was in a Jeep? That must have been AshMatt. How did I miss her?"

"I don't know, but if it was please tell her she's SOOO cute!"

"Isn't she? OK, I will!"

Then, about 45 minutes later I get an email from Ash telling me that she thinks she just met my mother on the street, to which I replied, "Yep- that was her!"

And, once again, my Mama makes a big impression! Not to mention Ash!
Did I miss anything, Ash? Leave out any good parts?

Going Postal

So, I fell of the Blog bandwagon for a bit there- sorry! Good news, though. I just had the strangest thing happen to me!

My coworker, Richard, handles the parking downtown, but when he's out I have to cover for him some. I can't really do much but take payment so most of the time people have to just come back. But anyhow. We get a lot of crazies who come in, as you can imagine. Today, it was the Postman. Now, our Postman is strange on a normal day. The guy sometimes doesn't feel like coming upstairs to deliver mail, so he'll give it to someone else in the building and tell them to give it to us when they see us. Today he came to the office.

Apparently, he had just received a parking ticket for facing the wrong way. If you didn't know (I learned the hard way at LSU), you can not park against the flow of traffic. It's a law in most states. But he did, and he wanted me to "fix" his ticket for him. First of all, I don't have that authority, second of all I'm just not going to do it and third of all, we have made the Mayor, City Manager, three County Commissioners and half of the police department pay tickets. So why would he get out of his?

I kindly (yes, I really was nice) informed him I couldn't do that and how to appeal if he liked. This seemed to upset him somewhat, and he flew into a tangent about how awful I, personally, was, how awful the DIB was, how everyone hated us and then... that I couldn't possibly believe in Jesus because I wouldn't fix his ticket. Yes, REALLY! That was not a good thing to say to me. But I calmly (yes, I promise, I was calm!) told him that I most certainly did believe in Jesus, but that Jesus didn't have anything to do with his parking ticket. Well, that just set him off again. He was still yelling at me about the state of my Christianity when I told him (not so kindly) that if he hated downtown so much he was welcome to deliver mail elsewhere and escorted him out. Needless to say, I was in a major snit! When my boss returned, he informed me that our Postman was the reason the phrase, "Going Postal" was invented.

I finally shook it off and had started to find the whole thing kind of funny when the postman returned... with a bouquet of flowers! He apologized, informing me that God told him he was being a hypocrite and "In Jesus," he loved me. I told him I forgave him, mostly because I was a little afraid!

I'm not sure whether to think he has a problem and be sympathetic or just to be afraid of him.

And no, I did not apologise for telling him he could deliver his mail elsewhere, because I really would be OK with it if he did!

Southern Fabulous

I’m reading “Traveling with Pomegranates,” a book by a mother and daughter. It’s about their life changes, how they affect each other and mother-daughter relationships. Ann, the daughter, was making some observations about her mother, and it got me to thinking about my Mama.

My Mama is a big haired, stuck in the 80s/90s, fru-fru, shabby chic, yard sale-ing, junkin’, crazy, Southern fairy. She’s Southern Fabulous, to be exact.

I will never forget the first time Shannon met my Mama. We were headed for lunch and Mama was meeting us to drop something off for me. I was talking to S and paying attention to a million different things. Then I hear Shannon say, “THAT’S your mother, isn’t it? That’s her!”I looked up to see this tiny person in black spandex stretch-pants (where do you buy those anyway??), and a huge, billowing turquoise top lined with frills skipping down the sidewalk carrying a purse made of some combination of vintage handkerchiefs, lace, taffeta and sparkles. Yep, THAT was her! Later that afternoon, amid some since of awe I don’t think she quite grasped, Shannon pronounced Mama “Southern Fabulous.”


I don’t remember her ever embarrassing me. I know she embarrassed Amanda. But I think I was just so enchanted by her that it never occurred to me to be embarrassed. I was proud. Looking back, my desired to imitate her is probably the reason I was less than popular in middle and high school. What a look!


Mama loves perms. She loves big hair. And I was subjected to this from the time I was five until I went to college. I grew out of liking them around the age of 10 and cried each time (every 4 months like clockwork) she took me to get a new perm. It’s the only thing I can think of that I hold against her. Nope, nope- I lied! I hold the matching Christmas pinafores that looked like a copy of the Von Traps’ matching outfits made from curtains, but in a holly pattern and ruffles added. They were bad. And we all had them. And daddy had a matching vest. Awful.

I have no idea where this post is going. My mother is crazy. Yep, point made. My mother is adorable. Pont also made.

Let’s just end with a quote from the book: “I’m filled with love for my mother. The best gift she has given me is the constancy of her belief. Whatever I become, she loves me. To her, I am enough.”

That should clear it up… or not…. What can I say? I take after my mother!

Is it Bad?

Is it bad...
...that I have full conversations in my head, with outward hand gestures?
...that when the PPD habitually tells people to call MY number about parking tickets and someone says, "I'm calling because I got a parking ticket," I answer with "And?"
...that I show up at work with chicken poo on my shoes at least 3 days a week?
...that I constantly speak to inanimate objects?
...that I adore my gynecologist?
...that at the age of 27 (almost 28) I immediately call my Mama when something goes wrong?
...that I purposefully send things out even though my boss told me to hold them because he didn't meet my deadline!
...that I often prefer curling up in my bed with a good book and a glass of wine to going out?

Technology

Technology gets a really bad rap for ruining the world. The video games are teaching kids to kill each other on the street. Cell phones and PDAs make us in constant contact and force us to lead hurried, hectic lives with no down time. Computers make porn mass-consumable and allow predators to stalk so much more easily. All of a sudden identity theft is rampant… Technology is evil. Right?

I’m not so sure. Right now, my brother-in-law is in Iraq. Basra, Iraq. Flying helicopters to Medivac injured people out of battle areas and to a hospital. And I’m chatting with him. He’s in Iraq, I’m in my office in Pensacola, Florida, and we can chat. In real time. Now, that is just amazing folks!
Not that many years ago, just two or three generations, the family left at home has to wait for the lag of weeks or months to get letters from the war zones. And there is absolutely something romantic about those hand-written letters. But how romantic is it for a wife to get to tell her husband good night and that she loves him? For a daughter to get to email her mom on her birthday? For a husband to get to see his child on Skype?
Technology certainly makes life different. And it can be invasive and scary. But I think we should remember to count our blessings as well. I can talk to my best friends and get photos of my nieces and nephew. Doctors can see problem so much earlier and save lives. T just emailed me pictures of her honeymoon! Technology is wonderful.
And later, when you’re thanking God for your blessings (including technology), say a little prayer for Justin too.

I Believe...

My family is not exactly known for calm and quite Christmases. We try, but it never happens. My Granny always called us “The Hamlin Zoo,” and this seems to particularly qualify during the Holidays. We spent one lovely Christmas in a hotel in Baton Rouge after Amanda had nasal surgery. She was supposed to be allowed to travel a few days after the surgery, but that was revoked by the doctor. So Katie, Daddy and I packed up all of the presents (and in my family there are tons), decorations (most of them vintage), food, beverages, two small Chihuahuas (no, it wasn’t a dog friendly hotel)… you name it- we had it. Then we found out the hotel had a free happy hour each evening. Well, from 5:00 on there was quite a holiday party going on. Poor Amanda was either over dosed or under dosed on her meds the entire time.

Then there was the Christmas three of our all-time favorite family quotes were uttered. Katie was in Grad School at Texas A&M, and at the last minute we found out she wasn’t going to be able to leave her research project and come home. So instead, we all packed up the presents, decorations, food, two small Chihuahuas and a one-eared Golden Retriever and headed for College Station, TX. Each morning we were up and going at about 4:30am to go with Katie to the barn, freeze our asses off, and feed about 30 pregnant mares. Then at five that night it was the same story. It was quite an event to see the Hamlins in a frozen tundra of horse poo twice a day and my mother in her black velour sweat suit, fur coat and fur trimmed gloves sweeping poo of the concrete. But we did it. Why? No one’s really sure. It’s just what we do. The only really bad scene was when Mama’s 3 pound Chihuahua, Belle, was perched on one end of a blow-up mattress and I stepped on the other end and sent her flying. It was funny to everyone but Mama.
And then there was the Piece de Resistance of Christmas in Texas. Daddy and Amanda had gone back to the hotel for the evening and Mama and I were enjoying a much deserved bottle of wine… each. Now, Mama drinks two glasses of wine a night without fail. Sometimes three. But rarely a bottle. Actually, that’s the only time I can remember her doing that. Which explained what happened next. Mama ended up just a little bit drunk. Now, my mother is hilarious on a normal day. But this was just too much.

First Katie and I found her in the bathroom, leaning over the sink with her finger under a trickle of water. She has a very peaceful look on her face and when she saw us staring at her she informed us, “It sounds just like a creek, a mountain creek. It’s soothing me.” I’m fairly confident that both mine and Katie’s exact responses were, “Okaaaaaaaay.”
After we discussed mountain creeks for a few minutes, Katie tried to convince Mama to go lay down. She didn’t think she needed to lay down, but I told her she was a little drunk and she DID need to lay down. Well, she was incensed and out came favorite Hamlin-Family quote number two: “Girls, I am NOT drunk! If I were drunk, I’d be drunk! But I’m NOT drunk! And that’s just good common sense!” Katie and I pretty much lost it there.

Finally, Katie got Mama into bed, but she started feeling queasy because the room was spinning. A few minutes after she laid down, we began hearing, “I neeeeeed an Indian!” Naturally, we HAD to ask why she needed an Indian. Come to find out she was referring to an American Indian, and she needed one because, “They have cures.” We couldn’t help it, we laughed at her again. And the final line of the evening was: “Don’t laugh! I BELIEVE in Indians! And I Buh-Leeve in black people too! They know things, they KNOW more than we do!” I told her I was glad she believed in them because they were real, and Katie (being the nicer daughter) got herself under control, gave Mama two Aleve and got her to go to sleep.
So if you want a quiet, relaxing Christmas stay home. But if you’re looking for a wild time, figure out wherever it is The Hamlin Zoo is spending the Holidays.

Playing Dress-Up

I have no idea why, but I seem to have a thing for decorating and dressing up animals. You’ve already seen Tommy in her lingerie. At Christmas I painted a horse for a Christmas card, for Valentine’s Day I tied ribbons all over my sister’s horse.

Last night over Kahlua and Coffee some friends started discussing condoms and all the different varieties. I have no particular experience with this topic, so I just listened until Sally brought up glow in the dark condoms. Tommy has a cropped tail, and I recommended that we put a glow in the dark condom on it so we could find her at night. It’s basically guaranteed that we will try this idea out. Photos to come, I’m sure…