What part of "delete browsing history" don't you understand?

So I'm back from the trip that didn't give me time to go explore the city we were in. Boo.

For those of you who live in or have lived in Chicago: how the fuck do you sleep at night? The wind was so loud that I learned the reason someone coined the expression "howling."

Still wondering how those of you who are parents did it or are doing it without pulling out all of your hairs, or someone else's. Saturday, I find out that the kiddo I am advocating for (henceforth known as "the kiddo") has has his phone taken away because he was looking at porn. Granted, he's 17, and I basically told him, look, as long as it's not anyone hurting anyone else, or anything to do with children or sheep, I really don't care. However, you live in a group home and they have rules, and WHAT PART OF DELETE BROWSING HISTORY DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? Technology has made things so complicated.

That's the thing - and I wonder if I was like this when I was a teenager and my dad just never said anything? - when he breaks the rules, he doesn't just leave a trail of breadcrumbs, he leaves a trail of bread loaves. (Yes, I told him this.) Was I just sneakier? Savvier? Or did I just think I was?

I also had to lay the smack down, as he wasn't listening to anyone at the home. The program supervisor said, "Can you talk to him about this?"

Here's how the conversation went:

Me: "I heard you aren't doing X,Y, and Z! DO THEM RIGHT FUCKING NOW, OR YOU WILL BE IN BIG FUCKING TROUBLE!"
Kiddo: "Um. OK."

And he did.

Anyhow. After less than 48 hours full of people, people, people - I actually skipped out on a couple of the sessions just to get some time to myself - I have to say that I really don't understand extroverts. If you are an extrovert, I admire you, in the most dazzled, baffled way. I came home and felt like the life had been sucked out of me through my ears (or maybe that was the popping left over from the plane.) In fact I took today off and did nothing - literally - until Mr. RK got home and we went out on a date.

I did my spit-in-a-kit thing tonight. Boy is that gross. Not that I've never spit before, but I didn't have it in a tube right in front of me. Yuck.

I'll be sure to let you know all of the results, although at this point I'm wondering 1. How they'll know it's my kit, and what if I get someone else's results? 2. If it gets lost in the mail, what do I do, and 3. If they get it right, just how much will I be able to disturb the less progressive elements of my family?

Either way...you'll hear about it.

I can has business trip

I have to go to Chicago for work, briefly. Not sure why I thought this was a good idea, as 1. I hate flying, 2. I hate big groups of people I don't know, and 3. I hate flying.

Blogs don't load well on my phone so I won't be visiting you until next week.

Meanwhile, dealing with a difficult colleague that everyone has been avoiding since she has been such a bitch...this is how I did it:

Her: Rude email.
Me: "Be nice!"

She said she was being nice...then backed down. So maybe I just need to apply the rules of kindergarten.

Have a good weekend!

Comedy, how to get free valet parking, and why I want to spit in a cup.

Now if that headline doesn't grab you, I don't know what will.

So first off - the hotel where we had our event accidentally didn't comp a couple of people for valet parking. Mr. RK, being mellow, paid and let me bug them later to get the $32 (!!!) charge reversed.

My employee had a better approach, I found out today. She said, "You can comp me, or I can go get RK. And she is already irritated!" Guess what? They comped her.

Today I found out that my family tree is more like a fucking grapevine. You know how I thought we were seven different ethnicities? Well guess what! My great aunt, who was told their family was 100% German, did the spit-in-a-cup DNA test and - voila! - she isn't German at all.

She (we) have roots inScandinavia (Norway, Sweden), Western Europe(Netherlands, France, Bay of Biscay), Eastern Europe  (Romania, Poland ),  the Iberian Peninsula, Great Britain and Ireland.

That blew me away! So I wonder if my grandmother died thinking she was 100% German, or someone, somewhere, just made it up. 

This, in addition to what we know (or don't know??) from my grandfather's side and my mother's family.

So I immediately ordered the DNA kit. I can't wait to find out what's in my spit. I do know this: that instead of coming from seven different places, we come from more than a dozen. Shazam! People hopped the fence everywhere. I'm hoping to find something really unexpected and freak out my biological mother's side of the family, who is also convinced they're 100% European, even though not everyone looks that way.

My dad said, "Won't take much really. Tell them you're having an affair with a Black Muslim who is actually an athiest." (I'm secretly hoping to find this in my spit test. I'll keep you posted!)

Finally, I leave you with this standup comedy video from my brother N. (Warning: NSFW.) But fucking hilarious. Dude, you have balls!

Relationships, as explained by cats

I have often said on this blog (and in life) that I think we would be better off if we approached relationships the same way cats do. Mr. RK has taken a short clip of Vasil (left, all black) and Mandrake (giant Oreo-looking cat on the right), who have kindly lent their skills to demonstrate this.

Once again: size up the situation, wap at your opponent and get it out of your system, then later, perhaps, have a cuddle. (You won't get me interested in ear licking, however.)

Stolen, and stolen!

I stole this gem from Joey's new blog, Stolen. If you haven't checked it out, go do so. It's some hilarious stuff from all over the web.

Anyhow.

I won't get into the serious shit about the young man I'm advocating for, but I told him, and now I'm telling you, that the three gray hairs I have (and the million that are all the way) are all from him!

Parents, HOW do you do it? (Note to my dad: if you are reading this, I fully take responsibility for you going gray. Truly, I do.)

I felt a bit old today when I went to go visit and he was arguing with the staff at his group home, and I was able to get him to behave by saying, "You will do X, Y and Z, or I will go back home and not take you anywhere!" Boom! Compliance. It made me feel a bit old, having a modicum of authority.

We did have a good day after that. We got through the serious talk, went to a pumpkin patch, to lunch, and to coffee. Driving back, he said, "You know! When I'm an old man, I'll be a cool old man. I'll be 71 and I'll call you up and be like, 'Hey! What's shaking?'"

Me: "And I'll be 91 and saying, 'Hey, you young whipper snapper!'"

People in my family tend to live forever. Which brings me to another conversation I had today with a friend. His mother and my grandmother both lost their inhibitions after strokes, late in their lives. My grandmother, who was very devout and couldn't say the word "poop" before the strokes, in particular really disturbed my dad one time by saying, "If I had known there wouldn't be any sex around here, I'd have gone out and gotten it somewhere else!"

So my friend said, "Well, if you do have any strokes in old age, my guess is that no one will notice. You don't have inhibitions to begin with."

I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not?

Lastly in this random post, I'm going to include a plug for Mr. RK's photo blog. He finally posted again today and has several pics from his kayaking travels.

No, you cannot has that. Absolutely not!

It's event week.

On top of it being event week, this year our dinner coincided with the launch of our state's insurance exchange (which still does not work) and a grant through which we are supposed to help sign people up for Medicaid and other insurance. Through an exchange whose online portal doesn't work.

Anyhow. You know how it goes - there's the usual stupid crap, and I am writing about it humorously to 1. let you all know that yes, this is all true, and 2. keep my hopes up that if I vent about it here, I will get it out of my system somewhat and not do anything that will get me arrested (e.g. assault.)

Things it is NOT OK to do to the event planner:

1. Say you might come, never get back to her, then email at 9 pm the night before the event, after the seating is done and the meals are ordered, (yes RIGHT FUCKING NOW!! I just got the email when I was writing this!!) saying you're bringing two guests.

2. Offer to volunteer three months in advance and then flake. Not only flake, but offer your free dinner/volunteer gig to two people who are totally unknown to the event planner and copy them on the email asking if they can take your place.

3. Ask the event planner for a ride to and from the dinner. Because she has nothing else to do that day. No, I am not making this up!! Two people did this. From totally opposite sides of town. Right.

4. Waffle on your entrees after they have already been ordered by catering. Because hell, the meals can come in and cook themselves.

5. Tell the event planner you need to sit with so-and-so, who isn't coming to the event.

More to come tomorrow, I'm sure. Every year, I have people buy tickets the day of the event. Who, may I ask, decides that day that they're going to a $125-a-plate gala dinner? Do they carry cocktail dresses in their cars just in case?

I plan (hope) to be less bitchy tomorrow, provided too many things don't get fucked up. Wish me luck.

Bad dates? I has had them.

So there was some tough stuff this week with the kiddo I am advocating for. Luckily we managed to talk through it and have a good day. Tonight he was having some anxiety, so the plan is that he texts me and I distract him.

So I wrote back, "I just remembered the worst pickup line ever! Will call you in 5."

Which prompted a discussion between him, me, the staff on duty at the home he lives in, and Mr. RK.

This reminded me of why I have told Mr. RK repeatedly that if he decides one day that he no longer prefers women, or God forbid something ever happens to him like a piano falling out of the sky and onto his head, he doesn't have to worry: I would never date again!

So tell me if you have ever had anything happen like...

1. You meet someone online and you suggest a coffee date. They suggest dinner. Then, when the bill arrives, they ask you to split it. (Mind you, I think people should take turns paying, and I erred on the side of paying when I was dating, but if you invite, you should offer to pay, right?) How romantic. Then they suggest a walk in the park and out of the blue they ask you, "So what do you prefer? A guy who has a big dick or a guy who knows how to use it?"

As if these two are mutually exclusive. And that was waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay TMI about him. (How did I solve this? I somehow, with a straight face, told him I was into hardcore bondage, ensuring that he would never call me again. It worked.)

2.  Ask someone out and arrange to meet at a nice restaurant, and she shows up WITH A BABY. One you didn't know she had, since she never told you she had a kid. She is super messy and gets food all over the place. Then you drive her home, and there are all these people smoking pot outside the front of her house, because - surprise! - she may be a new mom, but she's also a stoner. (This was from the counselor at the group home. Holy fucking shit. I couldn't one-up him.)

3. Go on a date to a thriller/horror movie. Get the surprise of your life when your date decides to grab your manhood out of nowhere. "YIPE!" Luckily, the timing is such that you jump out of your seat during a scary (for the rest of the audience also) moment.

4. Go on a double date at the beach and watch your date get drunk, throw up, and then ask you to make out on the beach. (Mr. RK, I think, was just relieved when he met me to have someone only mildly crazy, based on the stories I have heard.)

5. Ask this pretty girl on a date. Take her to McDonald's, and then ask her to pay.

Yes, really, but apparently it worked...Mr. RK's best friend from high school has now been married to the pretty girl for more than 20 years! 

So how about you? I know you have some doozies. Let's have 'em.

Uninteresting vegetables and exciting salmon

Overheard at dinner at a Thai restaurant last night:

Customer, upon sending her dish back to the kitchen: "This isn't objectionable, but it's just incredibly uninteresting. Can't you get me some green beans, and some snow peas?"

Mind you, the ingredients in every dish are listed on the menu. Which presumably she read before she ordered.

I couldn't help snickering. Mr. RK said, "I'll bet she's fun in bed."

And speaking of fun, is it me? Or does this sound a bit ridiculous:

My coworker took today off to chaperone his son's school field trip to - get this - watch salmon spawn.

I kid you not.

My boss, who generally only gets enthusiastic about football, was talking about how cool it was.

Seriously. Fish. Fish who reproduce and then, in a cruel joke of the universe, croak off.

Me: "So...they're fish. What happens? What do you do? You just watch them spawn?"

Boss: "If you're from the Northwest, it's a big deal." He said this with a straight face!

Translation: If you're from the Northwest, you are pretty easily fucking impressed?

Me: "So watch them and be happy the same thing doesn't happen to humans afterwards."

But what do I know? As we found out at dinner, interesting is relative.

And the big joke of the day is that our state's insurance exchange, was supposed to open today, isn't opening at all, but instead of admitting this, they're saying (I kid you not) that "the shopping experience is only partially available."

Excuse me, but if I can't "shop" and actually buy anything, I think that pretty much translates to the shop being closed, don't you? I am so sick of marketingspeak. But maybe I'm just not thinking out of the box. Maybe I need to think more strategically and run with it for the maximum optimization.

You never know, the ideation could go viral.

(Now excuse me while I gag.)