Dear Metro DC Police Officer:

I cannot express to you how grateful I was this morning. You had every right to issue me a citation for carelessly running the red light. Not only did you not give me the citation, you also did not lecture me on how to be more careful. A simple "watch the lights young lady" was all you said.

Let me thank you again in writing. I would also like to thank you for calling me young lady as I am clearly much older than yourself. You made my dreary, rainy day so much better than I could have imagined after stupidly running the red light, right in front of you. I know! Thank God you didn't ask me why I did that for then I would have had to admit to you that I usually sleep-drive at such an early hour. I am more than sure that you would not have taken kindly to that statement.

I only hope that the speed trap cameras are equally as kind to me. I am surprised that I have yet to receive a citation for speeding. Oh, wrong sister. That would be Nutcracker Sweet. Never mind then.

You have a safe day too, Officer.

Popeye, Schmopeye!!

My Parents will be the first to tell you, or anyone else who will commiserate, that I am responsible for most of the gray hairs they have developed since my birth. I am going to blame some of my actions on the pecking order; the middle kid is supposed to test the boundaries. That is my story and I am sticking to it. Besides the other 2 siblings were eager to please. I was eager to push buttons.

When I was a child, the rule during dinner was if it made it onto your plate it must be consumed. This rule does not apply to and Grandchildren I have noticed as my niece is 9 years old and has yet to sample a vegetable. I will discuss that another time.

One night the dreaded cooked, gross spinach made it onto my plate before I knew what was happening. If I was not running my mouth during the doling of food I could have vetoed the spinach but as per usual I was discussing my day with my Dad. Dinnertime was when we all caught up with each other. (Translated: when all the bad things Wicked did during the day were rehashed)

So I am still at the dinner table while my Mom is doing the dishes. The already gross, wretched spinach is now cold and even more unappetizing. What to do? I started praying for a dog to materialize but that didn’t work. I continued to push the spinach from one side of the plate to the other hoping that my Mom would hurry up and finish the dishes and leave the kitchen. You think it was a coincidence that she decided that night would be the perfect time to polish all the cabinets in the kitchen? I think not.

After about the 47th "look" from my Mom. I came up with a brainstorm. While she was on top of the stool polishing the cabinet above the refrigerator, I dashed out of the kitchen to the hall closet. My Dad keeps his shoes in the boxes they came in. So I quickly grabbed a box emptied it of its worn shoes and ran back into the kitchen. As I was scooping my spinach into the box my Mom turned around.

Mom: WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING? (Complete with clenched jaw)

Wicked: Um.....I am really full. So I decided to mail this spinach to those starving kids in India because they need to make their muscles strong like Popeye. My muscles are already strong....see? (Showing Mom my bicep)

Mom: (still with the clenched jaw) Sit down and eat that spinach from that box! And if you gag or vomit, you will eat that TOO!!!!

Wicked: GULP!!

From that point on I made sure that when the food was being doled out onto my plate, I was paying attention. I can tell you that I avoided spinach from that day forward. Once you have eaten cold, slimy, gross spinach seasoned with your Dad’s feet, it will turn you off FOREVER

Menopausal Mother Nature

How else can we explain these bizarre temperature ranges this Spring. Actually each Spring brings weird weather now that I think about it. I truly believe Mother Nature has hit menopause. Chills followed by personal summers; I can totally relate – unfortunately.

Well Mother Nature, I am going to make it my personal mission to find you some type of homeopathic remedy. I am sure the ozone layer resembling Swiss cheese is not helping the cause. I find that ice packs kept within proximity help with the personal summers and may I suggest keeping a light sweater on hand for those chills.

Bring back the gorgeous weather we had just 10 days ago, the Cherry Blossoms were perfect this year. Thanks for that. However; waking up to 40 degree temps in late April is just not good. Come on Lady, if the rest of us can get through it, so should you!!

OCD Much?

An old friend of mine ( Hi! DK) used to berate me every time he came over to my place. He would immediately head to my stack of CDs and strategically place them in order of musical category AFTER he made sure they were in the right CD holder and the CD was facing in the proper direction in it’s jewel case. Following that, he would leave an empty area on my CD rack. DK explained to me that each time I play a CD I am to put it’s case in this holding area until such time that it is ready to be placed back into the main rack.

OH. MY. GOD!

What doesn’t make sense about all this is that besides his CDs, DK’s place is always a wreck! I am talking the typical guys place; although DK is married and his wife is just as lax about housekeeping as he is. They are very suited for each other. Their housekeeping skills make me look like Felix Unger. Trust me, I am no where near that organized or clean.

It goes without saying that each time I go over to DK’s I quietly make sure that his CDs are not in their proper alphabetical, musical category. I even go so far as switching out some CDs from case to case. This drives him nutso. Muhahahahahaha

So, what type of OCD issues do you suffer from?

Ghost Writer

98% BABY!!!

Beat that!!!

We now go back to our regularly scheduled programming.....

Serendipity

79 years ago in a land far away, my parents were born. They are exactly the same age. Well my Mom was born an hour and a half ahead of my Dad, that detail doesn't come out unless needed in the case of leverage.

They were raised in different cities separated by a few hundred kilometers. They met while in college, Dad in Medical School and Mom in Law School. I am not quite sure of the details but I do know that my Dad transferred schools so that either they could be closer or that was what facilitated their meeting. I will have to get back to you on the details. Either way, if you ask my Dad he will tell you that it was my Mom's encouragement and support that got him through Medical School. Their courtship was very traditional for their generation. It has been said that my Dad would sell his own medical books to be able to afford to bring Mom flowers. There are hundreds of stories that I am chronicling. I promise to share a few in the future.

They have been married for almost 52 years. To this day their relationship remains special. Of course they have their moments of discontent, they are human. My sisters and I have been blessed to have been raised by such a great set of parents. There always was and continues to be much humor and love in our lives.

Happy Birthday Mom and Dad! May you have many, many more.

Welcome Back to DC!

For something like 37 years, Washington DC has been trying to get a baseball team back. Yesterday was Opening Day for the new Washington Nationals. They will play at RFK stadium for 3 years until their new digs are done.

I am not a big baseball aficionado but I thought it needed to be mentioned. They did win 5-3 against the Arizona Diamondbacks. Welcome back to DC. We hope, Baseball will be "berry, berry good" for us.

Now, who wants a hot dog?

Binging and Purging

My parents are away on vacation for a while. So I made myself a promise to go over to their house and begin cleaning out some of the years of stuff that they can’t seem to let go. You see my Father is a pack rat and my Mother is a binge shopper. For as long as I can remember, my Mom has asked that when she passes on she wants us to make sure the house is presentable. I usually would respond by telling her if her friends don’t know that she is a relaxed house keeper, they will figure it out then. That exchange is typically followed by my Mom lobbing something in the direction of my head.

You have to understand that we are talking about at least 30 years of crap, I mean paraphernalia. Carbon dated dust bunnies. For some reason, purging someone else’s belongings is more rewarding. I don’t ever remember having the same cathartic effect when cleaning my own abode. My older sister came over to help as well. We experienced a wide range of emotions while rummaging. At one point we were giggling so hard that we ended up sobbing uncontrollably. I decided to let my sister know then that once, God forbid and may they live many, many more years to come, our parents do pass that I would be useless at this task. Which of course lead to more crying, sniffling, etc.

The fun part of the task was trying to figure out how valuable some of the items would be to someone else. For example: a circa 1959 manual Smith Corona typewriter and a circa 1962 Grundig stereo. Also among the treasures was probably $40 worth of pennies in various containers. Little Mermaid was with us so I put her to work rolling pennies. Do you know that she found at least 8 pennies over 50 years old. She made out like a bandit. She wasted no time jumping on the computer to find out their worth.

We had a slight dilemma when it came to removing some of the impedimenta. My sister wanted to save way more and I definitely wanted to eliminate. If it had not been used in the last 1-2 years, chances are they don’t even know it exists. I mean come one, they are 78 years old. We compromised and a good chunk of it went to Good Will. Let someone else benefit from our former worldly possessions, mom and Dad will enjoy the tax break.

Oh, you may be wondering if Bridezilla was helping. Not so much. She did show up at one point and I saw her rolling pennies with Mermaid. When she left I noticed that she contemplated taking the pennies that she rolled but I think Mermaid won that dispute.

It took a whole weekend to clean out one room. Glad they will be gone for a while.

Dear Mr. Dominator:

I need to tell you that is not acceptable for you to infringe on EVERYONE’S relaxation time because you cannot let your woman (and yes he grunted the word) get a manicure and pedicure on her own. Was it really necessary for you to make such a production while choosing the nail polish? I mean come on. It’s a color that will last at the most 2 weeks if your nail tech is good at what she does. If it were a tattoo, I would have understood. Furthermore, if you are indeed an expert in the art of nails then why not do your woman’s nails in the privacy of your own abode? On behalf of all the other female patrons, we would sincerely appreciate your NOT letting us know whether or not you approve of our color palate and nail style. Your opinion carries ZERO weight. So for the love of OPI, keep your comments to yourself.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not here to judge your choice of the Dom/Sub life style. To each is own, whatever flips your switch. Have at it. All I ask is that in the future you are courteous to the rest of the patrons. If you’ll recall, not a single client uttered a disparaging word. The rolling of eyes was completely free of charge.

Thank you so much.

What Not to Wear

I am a person who enjoys the conveniences life has to offer. If an errand can be accomplished via the Internet, I am all over it. If I can handle a task via a drive through, life is good. I am not avoiding people by completing my business efficiently, I simply don’t like to lengthen any task that can be accomplished quicker; ergo less hassle.

This brings me to my dealings with my Bank. I noticed that my debit card was going to expire in March 05. Near the end of February 05 I went into the Bank and inquired as to the status of my new card. They assured me that I would have it prior to the end of March. I asked them if the expiration date was enforced at any particular time of the month. The Bank told me it could be used through the month of March. Great, no problem. Of course, the first time I tried to use my card in the month of March, it was denied due to expiration. I rarely carry cash so this was a rather large inconvenience for me. Off to the Bank I go, again.

I walk into my local branch and am greeted with the following ( keep in mind that it is casual Friday):

Bank Manager (BM): Oh ma’am, it is no longer the 80’s. You don’t need to match your socks to your sweater.
Wicked: (Befuddled) First of all, I didn’t ask you for fashion advice. Secondly, if I need a fashion consult I will contact Stacey and Clinton. Is it possible for you to give me advice regarding my debit card?
BM: Absolutely, I’ll need to walk over to my terminal.
Wicked: Walk quickly. I don’t have a lot of time.

With a few clicks of her mouse she stated that I would have my new card in 3 business days.

BM: I would like to take this opportunity to apologize for my earlier comment.
Wicked: Apology not accepted; it’s a bit too late.

And with that I took my matching socks and sweatered-self out of the Bank.

Drunkard Dialing

I had the misfortune of receiving a phone call this past Saturday morning at 3 am. I don't know about the rest of you but I generally do not welcome phone calls at 3 freaking am. My immediate thought was who's dead or injured?

I answered the phone and this is what I encountered:

Wicked: (after dropping the phone once) Erm Hello?
Inebriated Hispanic Male (IHM): Te-re-saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Wicked: No Teresa here pal.
IHM: Get her to the phone! I need to speak to Te-re-saaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
Wicked: What number are you trying to reach.
IHM: Te-re-saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Tell her I must speak with her, NOW.
Wicked: You have the wrong number.
IHM: You tell Te-re-saaaaaaaa if she not come to the phone right now she will never come to my house again.
Wicked: Wrong number dude....
IHM: Click

Well thankfully I was able to drift back to sleep. Sunday morning my internal clock woke me up at 4 am. Probably a combination of the time change and being woken up at the same time the night before, what's a girl to do? I knew exactly what to do....

Wicked: (giggling while dialing - great invention that caller ID).......
IHM: Erm......Aa-lo
Wicked: Hey it’s me. I caught up with Te-re-saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa and she said that she has no desire to ever see you again. So there you go. Click.

So, um, hopefully Te-re-saaaaa will not be found in a shallow grave any time soon. Whatever, I didn't ask for the call in the first place.

Dear Young Blonde Misfit:

I realize that you are not to be blamed for being a child who seems to be ignored by your parental unit. However, you are old enough to know better. I am quite sure that your single father did not teach you to go up a dog that is not yours who is on it’s own property. I am also pretty confident that he did not instruct you to take said dog off his lead and try to steal him.

If I EVER see you near Dexter again, trust me it will not be pretty. You have your own dog, leave mine alone. Consider yourself warned!!

Thank God for HFS, Jr who rescued Dexter before any harm was done to him.

If you will pardon me now while I tend to Dexter and try to cool off. I cannot remember the last time I have been this angry.

Good Sport

The Southerners enjoy their pranks. I will tell you first hand that they do not mess around with the April Fools Day hijinks. .

April 1, 1995 I was letting Dexter out into the front yard for his morning ritual of greeting the school kids. I used to live in the center of town, Main Street of course, my street was the only way in and out of town. As soon as I hooked up his lead, he began barking incessantly. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed something in my yard. I put on something presentable, I didn’t want to scare or scar the kids, I went out front to find one of those storks set up in my front yard announcing to God and everyone that I just had a boy. I was neither seeing anyone nor gestational. I decided I would leave the stork there since whoever went to the trouble did make me chuckle.

All day long I was receiving phone calls from friends and townies. Some were asking me if Dexter had sired another round of puppies some were congratulating me, etc. The best call came from my lawyer, Max. He asked me the same questions and I told him it was an April Fools Day joke. He told me that he would be happy to assist me in retaliation. So I called up the local florist, yes the one with the pierced appendage, and asked him who had placed the stork order. I called Max back and told him the culprits were a nurse and a nurse practitioner in one of my remote clinics. He told me that he would send a Sheriff’s Deputy to the clinic with a summons and have them arrested. Why not, I was a temporary Southerner after all. I told him to go ahead. The deal was that the Deputy would call me before he set out so that I could be there when the “arrest” happened.

I made my way to the clinic like I usually did just to check in and see how things were going. While I was there the Deputy showed up. He came into the clinic with his summons and read the charges to both culprits, hand-cuffed them and as they were being placed into the Sheriff’s car I wished them all Happy April Fools Day! I so wish I had a camera that day.

What’s your best April Fools Day gag; delivered or received?