In my next life, I want to come back as...

one of my cats. Sure, I'd have to give up real food and sex of any kind, but wouldn't it be great to do this all day?

How many people does it take to have sex in the shower?

Random, random, random story - a long and strange chain of thoughts caused me to remember someone today that I dated years ago.

And sadly, my memory was, "Oh! That was the only person I ever had sex with in the shower!" I mean sadly for him. How many people want to be remembered that way? (Wait, don't answer that.)

What cracked me up was remembering that right after that, my then 15-year-old brother (who is now 31) came home and saw us sitting there with wet hair and blurted out, "Did you guys JUST HAVE SEX?!"

And it was so funny we just burst out laughing and didn't think to be embarrassed.

So anyhow, I texted a friend about this tonight and she said, "That's it? Only one?"

I wrote back, "Do most people have more?"

Then I asked Mr. RK, "How many people do most people have sex with in the shower?"

More laughing, as it came out all wrong.

Mr. RK: "Simultaneously? Or one at a time?"

I hope to God my little brother isn't reading this.

But it's food for thought. Am I low in the numbers? Or is my friend a slut? Inquiring minds want to know!

A request

First of all - a shout out to Green Tea MN, who wrote a very thoughtful post about mental health care and the lack of it in this country, and also plugged my event, AND then sent a donation.

Last year, a number of you were kind enough to support an event I put on at work - specifically, a walk to raise money to help us keep on the lights, and help us send the message that mental health care is important.

Like many others, our state is looking at unprecedented budget cuts, which means more people in crisis will be turning to my organization, the National Alliance on Mental Illness of Oregon, for help.

Everything we do is offered free of charge: mental health referrals, support groups for individuals living with mental illness, and their families, education classes that empower and inform.

This is a personal cause for me: mental illness of varying degrees runs through my family. I have lived with anxiety since I was 6, and have had times of severe depression my entire adult life. I have been blessed with the support of loving family and friends, and the access to services I needed.

But many people have neither - and by supporting this cause, you help us change that.

My walk team is named for my late, dear friend Ward, a kind soul and a friend to all who knew him. Ward never received proper mental health care and I am walking and raising money in his honor, to help NAMI Oregon fulfill its mission of improving the lives of people living with mental illness and their loved ones.

As always, we never share your information with any other agency, and we never add you to our own donation or mail lists. Ninety percent of the money raised stays right here where you send it.

You can go directly to this link to make a donation, or if you prefer to send a check, leave me a comment with your e-mail address.

Any donation will make a difference. $5 or $10 would be great! Thank you, and wish me luck! (Lucky is already helping...see above.)

Full-moon fuck-up

I don't even know if it is a full moon or new moon (or if there even is a moon) tonight, because I have lost track...but oh boy.

This morning I had a meeting with a corporate sponsor about upping the amount of money they give to our organization. I spoke with this person on the phone and had exchanged e-mails, but today was the first time we met in the flesh.

Now, I have experienced all kinds of handshakes before: the dead fish handshake (my dad said Richard Nixon had a handshake like that); the dainty not-really-give-you-my-hand handshake; the grip-the-life-out-of-you-and-nearly-crack-your-bones-because-I-have-a-tiny-dick handshake.

But I have never experienced a really sweaty one. Ick. So my first reaction? I stared at my hand, and then wiped it on my pants.

It took about one nanosecond for me to think...

Oh.
FUCK!

I went out of my way to shake his hand lots of times when the meeting ended, and I left with three times the amount of money that his company gave us last year...but still.

I am so embarrassed!

But I'm also wondering: how do your hands get sweaty like that? Was he nervous? I know he didn't hop off the treadmill right before we met.

Then again, perhaps it's better that I don't know.

One of those days...and then some

You know your day is off to a strange start when you get an e-mail from one of your board members and the subject line is "Last night."

No, it's not what you think...a co-worker filled in for me and agreed to cover a meeting that I normally staff on Thursday night, as it was my and Mr. RK's anniversary. The board member that chairs the committee never showed up.

This board member, an attorney with attention to detail so minute that it even gives super-organized-me the creeps, totally forgot about the meeting.

I had to wonder if there was secretly a full moon...or if one was just invisibly hovering over my office.

Friday morning began with horrible traffic. One of my volunteers then proceeded to get lost - even as she was on the steps outside of our office.

Then another volunteer got a call from someone in Quebec.

Volunteer: "Francais? English? Spanish? Oh, you are in Quebec? Do you want our Quebec chapter?"

It took about 10 minutes for him to establish that it was just a wrong number.

Then we had a meeting on a conference line that kept hanging up on the person calling in.

Then we had a woman call and rail about how her rights were being violated...because she couldn't find a doctor who would remove her breasts.

Then that night I had a sex dream about my boss, who I had to see this morning because we had to finish moving our office. Needless to say I couldn't look him in the eye.

I'm not making this up.

Ever have one of those days?

Older = crankier, weirder

I have this theory that as people age, they either get 1) crankier or 2) stranger, and when they are old, they're able to get away with both.

When I was a kid and some older person was being a particular jerk, my dad always told me, "Ignore them, they're old."

At some point in high school, I told him, "I bet they were always that rude - but now people let it go because they're a senior!"

So I'm in line today getting coffee and this guy walks up and says, "Hey, do you think they have coffee here?"

I just smiled and then he said, "Did Santa visit your house for Christmas?"

Um, WHAT?

So I figured he was old and lonely and said, "Yes, did he visit you?"

He replied, "Yes, but I didn't deserve it!"

Me: "Why, were you naughty?"
Him (Grinning): "Yes, I was!"

And that was it. Granted, I realized later if he had been 30 or 40, I would have probably stomped on his foot and walked away, rather than having the conversation.

I told Mr. RK about it and he said, "I can't wait until I'm old so I can act even more weird than I do now!"

When I'm old, I'm going to say "fuck" even more than I do now.

How about you?

Someone out there has a dirtier mind than I do...

...and he designs paperclips for a living.

For a little fun present, I got Mr. RK a set of airplane paperclips from the nifty Paperchase section at Borders for his birthday. (Don't worry - that wasn't the only present. He also got an ipod touch, a set of rollers so he can ride his bike indoors, and other things I can't mention here.)

During one of the birthday weekend events, our mutual friend Darth Weasel came over and saw the clips and did a double take.

Me: "What?"
Darth: "Um...where did you buy those? Because they kind of look like..."

We clipped one to a piece of paper, and it's true.

And I thought Borders was a family store...

Happy birthday, Mr. RK!

Today is a significant birthday for Mr. RK. He's 29.*

I have a host of activities planned for this weekend, and I've been spoiling him all week. Unfortunately I am sick as a dog so at the very least I won't be singing.

Please feel free to wish him a happy birthday!

And here is the one moment a year I get mushy:

Mr. RK, you are the love and light of my life, and I hope to celebrate many more birthdays with you.


*Numbers in this post may not be accurate.

I am now officially old

My soon-to-be-15-year-old brother called me tonight for help with his homework.

The assignment: interview someone who was in the "great quake" of 1989 - which happened seven years before he was born.

In terms of one of those "where were you when...?" moments, I'll never forget it - it was right up there with the terror attacks, albeit a lot less horrific.

Somehow, I have a talent for living in places with extreme weather and geological episodes. There was the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake. Before that, I lived in Houston when Hurricane Alicia and the subsequent floods hit. Would you believe the school district required us to get notes from home excusing our absences? Hello! Twenty-three people died!

Then in college I was in New York City when a record (for the time) blizzard hit. That was no major problem for me because the power stayed on and I didn't drive, so I didn't have to dig my car out from under several feet of snow.

Then in 2001, I was living in the Pacific Northwest when the Ash Wednesday earthquake hit, luckily doing no major damage (except to the Capitol building in Olympia, Wash. Go figure.)

I've also had the pleasure of getting snowed in during a blizzard here in Portland 2003 the same night I broke off an engagement. We were snowed in together for a week. I was really, really dying to know what I had done in another life to create that kind of karma for myself! (Just kidding. I was actually just dying to throw him out in the snow, but unfortunately I am not that heartless.)

In 2008 there was another blizzard, but luckily I got snowed in with Mr. RK and the kitties, so it was much more pleasant.

Even disasters have their humor. I told my little brother about a story I remembered from right after the earthquake, which was in eighth grade. One of my teachers let all of us share our stories about where we were when the earthquake happened, which was really quite cool of him. He also made us laugh with a previous student's story: his little brother was having a pee when the earthquake hit - and needless to say, he had some problems with aim.

We laughed so hard I'm surprised we didn't all wet ourselves.

And when I told the story today, more than 21 years later, it was still hilarious. At least my bro and I thought so. But what do you expect from a couple of pottymouths?

Mondays are for sleeping

I think it should be mandatory that the Monday after a holiday be a day off.

Because all I want to do is sleep.

I am dreading going into work this morning, because 1) my boss will be grumpy after having two weeks off, 2) we have to plan the move of our office, and 3) I need to grab his attention long enough to talk to him about an event, which also won't happen today (see #1.) Also, it's currently 21 degrees outside.

But when I come home this (see photo) is my plan. How about you?

PS This is one of my cats, Lucky. Isn't he adorable?