One time I went to the grocery store with my little brother to buy some rice krispie treat ingredients (you know, the essentials). The cashier asked my brother if he was excited to help "his mommy" (me) make the treats.
My little brother is 6.
No, cashier lady, I am not his mother. But thank you for supposing that I am much older than I am.
Now riddle me this.
On my last plane ride, the flight attendant asked me where my guardian would be picking me up at the airport. She said she had to make sure that everyone 16 and younger was accounted for.
I'm sorry- what?
I told her my age and left it at that. But deep down I wanted to explain to her that I am indeed a working woman and that this flight was in fact part of very "important" work travel.
So what is it world?
Do I look young or old?
It messes with my head a bit.
Gertie (for the young soul in me) or Gertrude (to match the wrinkles) whatever tickles your fancy....
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
So I didn’t go in to work yesterday because I had eaten of loaf of ciabatta bread and a bucket of cookies at 11:30 the night before and turns out you feel sick when you do that. Live and learn.
Let’s just say that going to Target during a clearance sale is already potentially dangerous. But going while you’re sick is just plain fatal. I barely have self control at Target in a right state of mind…
While perusing I heard a girl say, “Just get it.” I looked over, expecting to see a very Gert and Char moment where a friend was encouraging her fellow Spinster to buy something. I was mistaken. The girl was talking to herself. #selfmotivation #irespectthat
Later on I found myself looking in a mirror in the dressing room. I was wearing black and white polka dot pants, heels, a silk shirt and a cowboy hat. That’s when I knew it was time to go home. I looked like a clown. A rodeo clown.
I left the store with only the cowboy hat. Okay the heels too.
I felt ashamed of my impulse buys so I texted Gert. She said, “Remember when you danced at the rodeo all by yourself? #youearnedthathat.
So, in the spirit of impulse cowboy hat purchases…I will now tell you the story Gert mentioned.
So there we were. At the Bull Wars Rodeo. Gert and I were with a crew. A rodeo clown stopped our girl MB and asked her if she and two friends would like to participate in a contest. And not just any contest. A dance off.
Gert, being the classy and respectable woman she is, said no. I on the other hand, was thinking something along the lines of YOLO or some foolishness like that. We grabbed another fella we were with and hopped the fence into the rodeo area. They put us dead smack in the middle of the arena and spread us out. They explained that we were gonna dance ONE AT A TIME and the crowd of maybe 200-300 people would scream the loudest for who they want to win. So MB went first, our other friend next and then I started to dance. It was at that moment that the “lose your mind” button was tapped in my head and I started dancing like a maniac. I was trying to remember how cute girls dance. All my body was doing was something similar to a soulja boy-high kick nightmare.
The clown then said, “Ok we’re gonna blind fold you because you’re all copying each other”. They blinded fold us and I fully expected to be trampled by a herd of bulls.
I started dancing my heart out because I needed to win this thing.
The clown asked,
“Who likes contestant 1?” (MB) and lots of people cheer.
“Who likes contestant 2?” (fella friend) and again, lots of people cheer.
“Who likes contestant 3?” (me) and the place erupts.
I was obviously elated because I had won this most noble contest. The clown said we could take our blindfolds off and as I did, I realized the horror of my situation.
I was the single solitary person in the rodeo area.
Apparently they had snuck off MB and the fella right after they blindfolded me so I, and I alone was dancing for a solid 2 minutes by myself in front of hundreds of people.
There was only thing left for me to do.
No prize but fame and endless glory were given.