I like to say “of all the things I’ve lost, I miss my mind the most.”
The other day I ran to a local store, purchased some necessary items, left, and thought everything was OK.
When I got home, my daughters started asking where was the lead for their mechanical pencils. I told them to look in bag.
They did, then said it wasn’t there.
I made them search again. The response was the same.
I figured it must have fallen out in the car, so I check on the seat and the floor, to no avail.
Then, it dawned it me much more was missing, including a can of starch, which if it were to drop, would probably make a sound I could hear.
There were other items I couldn’t find. Air freshners, suction cups, etc.
The answer was pretty simple by this time: I left a sack at the store.
I returned the next day to inquire about my purchase. I explained to the courtesy clerk my dilemma.
She reached for a big box containing about a handful of bags, including one with a pillow. I saw mine at the bottom of the pile. Using my best recall, I began naming off what was contained within.
I was quickly reunited with my goods, sack and all.
Is there a moral to this tale, you may ask. While I may not remember an all-important appointment, I’ll never forget what I purchase at the store.
I’ve just learned that today marks the 25th anniversary of Kiss appearing for the first time, as a group without makeup, on MTV.
And, there have been repeated requests, I believe several times a day, for the members to put the makeup back on.
As those who tune into “Gene Simmons Family Jewels” on A&E know, Gene had a facelift recently. And, like many people, especially celebs, who undergo this procedure, the result was — well, questionable.
You kind of have to give on to Gene. While he may be the moniker behind Kiss, at home, or at least while the TV cameras are rolling, he seems to be low man on the totem pole, judging by the way the rest of the family seems to rule the roost.
He does seem to come up with a fair share of business ideas that tend to walk a little on the wild side.
So, maybe, Gene it’s time to put on the makeup again and start your own line of Gene Simmons’ mineral cosmetics.
QVC is waiting.
It appears I have been deceiving you and lying to myself.
Until a few days ago, I believed I had twin daughters, who will mark their 11th birthday in November.
Not according to my health insurance company.
I received a letter saying I needed to prove Garbrielle, who the letter said was born in November, 1989, was a full-time college student or she’d lose her coverage.
This was also news to Gabrielle, as for the past 10-plus years, she was told she was a twin.
To assure you, Gabrielle is a full-time student as she is only in fifth grade. At least I drop her off at school every weekday morning along with her sister Bethany, whom, by the way, happens to look just like her.
Now Gabrielle is slightly taller than Bethany, but not enough to account for an 8-year age difference.
Somewhere I have an ultrasound picture of two babies in one womb. Does this mean it’s a fake?
Did the picture belong to some else? Was I so under the influence of water during my ultrasounds that I don’t remember being told I was having a singleton?
I think back to labor and delivery. I did it sans pain medication, so I can’t blame any memory loss on that. Maybe I was just so high in the moment I dreamt giving birth to twins.
But I swear I came home from the hospital with two girls. I remember having two cribs in my house, a side-by-side stroller and two high chairs.
I have pictures of two girls, who look just alike, on my walls at home and work.
They are Bethany and Gabrielle’s faces. But are they really? Am I now living in the Twilight Zone?
Gabrielle now wants her adult rights, like driving a car, etc. OK, she’s just joking about that.
However, since Bethany has learned her supposed twin is now 18, she’s apparently decided it’s a good time to up her age, too. She has settled on being 14.
The other day, while searching the car for something about the size of a pencil eraser. I made a discovery.
Something I didn’t know had existed, despite the fact I’ve owned the car for 2.5 years.
I folded down one of the back seats and found a loop attached to the carpet in the hatch area. What’s this I wondered.
Was it a hidden third row, which we didn’t purchase as an extra option on the vehicle.
Did it hold the part of my earbuds I was so desperately looking for so I wouldn’t have to spend another $20 to comfortably listen to my iPod while walking?
I slowly tugged on the loop, Up came the carpet. Underneath, a secret storage compartment.
It had gathered a few dust bunnies over the course of my ownership. I looked at it and contemplated how it had remained hidden so long.
There was unused space in my car. Space out of public view.
At this point, I don’t feel a need to put something in it, because it’s a little work to get in there.
I think I will leave it be for a little bit and hope it soon becomes the spot all the unmatched socks that come out of the dryer call home.
The e-mail subject line read “the day has come.” It was sent from my friend Tricia.
With Tricia, I’m never quite sure what to expect, except the unexpected.
With the enticing subject matter I started gathering random thoughts on what she must be sharing. We share the same political views, maybe the e-mail contained something in the realm of political news.
Maybe she had decided to rejoin the local twins club. After all, that’s how I met her.
The news wasn’t what I had hoped for.
After 14 years, and four children born on Travis Air Force Base, Tricia, her husband Eric, identical twin sons Daniel and Aaron, and daughters Kelly and Holly will soon be calling Tennessee home.
While Tricia and I haven’t spent as much time together the last few years as we should have, we’ve managed to stay in touch and always amuse each other.
Tricia and Eric and my husband Jim and I met at meeting in September (maybe October) 1997 as both of us were expecting twins.
In addition to serving proudly in the Air Force, Eric also delivered the Daily Republic for some extra income.
Our twins were born a mere three days apart. Fate put us together.
Tricia and I helped each other survive that first year. And, we became good friends in the process.
There was even a joke in the twins club that we were lesbian lovers. That spurred from the fact that when we went to mothers of twins conventions, we would share a room, and often a bed, to save money.
Twice, after said conventions, Tricia announced she was pregnant. The joke was they were my children, not Eric’s.
I remember heading out to Travis Air Force Base at 2 or 3 a.m. to stay with Daniel and Aaron while she gave birth to Holly. I think I may have taken care of all three when she gave birth to Kelly.
Daniel and Aaron and my girls, Bethany and Gabrielle were like brothers and sisters for the first five or six years. Then there interests became different and Bethany and Gabrielle decided to play with Holly and Kelly instead.
Ironically, Bethany and Gabrielle are probably more like Daniel and Aaron today than earlier since my girls are tomboys.
I can’t even begin to count the fun memories I have shared with Tricia. The heart-to-heart talks.
We go on base and trick-or-treat with the family then go back to their house for popcorn and hot chocolate. We went to movies together. I remember myself, Eric Tricia, my girls and their four children watching “Polar Express” at the base theater.
After such a long stint stationed at Travis, I figured the Bollmanns would stay here forever.
The United States government says otherwise. I beg to differ.
