Tuesday, August 30, 2005

I may never again speak...

...to that sorry ass hateful mother fucker to whom I was married. He has finally succeeded in making me regret the day I said 'I do'. I might even regret the day we first met, though I am not sure if the implications of that would infer I regret the son we share, which certainly I do not.

Sorry. Ass. Hateful. Mother. Fucker. Motherfucker.


Thursday, August 25, 2005

chef william

Originally uploaded by queenmaxine.
Sunday brunch at the Lake Placid Hilton Chef William prepared a ham and cheese omelette for his mother. There was no brown scorch anywhere to be found. Most excellent.

the final leg

The journey is coming to a close. I got into Chicago at 845 and arrived at gate C32, I think. I then had to find my way to gate B22. What a chore that was.

I walked from one end of the C concourse to the other thinking that at the other end there would be a hub that branched off to the other concourses. I wasn't really looking for signs to concourse B because I thought that it would branch off near the beginning of C. Wrong.

II got to the other end of C and had to ask where B was as there was no signing at the end. On the way back to the middle of the concourse C, I saw a sign. It was small. Fuckers. I had to go down a steep escalator and through a long tunnel, then up a steep escalator and voila, concourse B. They are an H configuration.

The tunnel had the moving walkways so at least it was less of a hike, but it was still a long way. My original flight had just a half hour layover. It took me 55 minutes to go from gate to gate. Even if I had not browsed and detoured the wrong way, I doubt I would have made it.

Original flight, yes, I had to change yet another leg of the journey. It wasn't enough to change Connor's trip plan by a week and a half causing the need to rebook two additional flights. It wasn't enough that he overslept and missed his first flight last week. Or that his connecting flight had a maintenance delay causing me to wait 4 hours rather than 5 minutes.

When we got to the airport so bright and early this morning, I checked in for my flight so I would be rid of my baggage. Then we went to Connor's airline to check him in for his flight. and I was informed that I could not get on my flight because I could not leave the airport until his flight was off the ground. This trip has been such a comedy of errors that it really didn't even phase me.

I went back over to United and had to see the man. I told him the dilemma and asked if Connor and I could just exchange flights. Umm, no. Not that simple. He could, however, book me on the next flight out, and he was nice enough to cancel the rebooking fee. I took Connor to his gate which was on one end of the airport and he left at 655. The plane was not actually off the ground, but my plane was boarding at 7 at the other end of the airport and the attendant said it was okay. Like I even asked permission. Lucky for me, the Albany airport is quite petite compared to Chicago. Gate B1 to gate A5 only took about 8 minutes.

The next drama will be when Connor arrives in Houston at 1220 in terminal C and I do not arrive until 1250 in terminal A. I called E while waiting at the gate in Chicago and explained all the new drama of the morning. I did make her an alternate to sign for Connor, but she might not be able to leave work to do it. I told her to not sweat it as this is part of what the airline is paid a fee for. Since Connor's flight had a connecting layover, the unaccompanied minor fee was $75. Let them earn it by having to wait for me. The clincher here is that the attendant that was working the check in in Albany was so adamant about me changing my flight that she neglected to collect the fee. She distracted herself right out of the $$ and I think that all this drama has earned me a trip to Yarns 2 Ewe. They are having a sale this weekend to unload some inventory before they move next weekend. Sounds like providence to me.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Almost home

Two times on this trip I had a NY state trooper pull out of a freeway trooper hidey spot right behind me. the first time, I was on my way up to the mountains from the Albany airport. I had cruise control set on 70 and the speed limit was 65. I was in the right lane and there were two other cars in the left lane who had been steady next to me for quite a while, so i imagine their cruise was set on 70 also. It was just after twilight. Most of the trooper cars here are dark blue Crown Vi8c's with no bubble rack on top. Stuck into the turn around with the radar gun and just waiting, They are nearly invisible at night against the trees.

Lucky for me, the lead car to my right was about a car length in front of me pretty much sheilding me from the radar gun. I would have never heard the end of my father ranting all week long if I had been the lead car. Of course, I would have been able to keep my mouth shut about it, but Connor would have surely let it slip.

My second brush was just coming here from the mountains. Same situation and maybe my cruise was 71 or 72. Trooperman got a CRV behind me this time. Whew. Note to myself for future trips to the Adirondacks: CRUISE IS TO ?BE SET AT THE SPEED LIMIT. PERIOD.

So we are checked in and we are signed up for the 4:30 shuttle to the airport with a 4AM wakeup call. My flight leaves at 620 and connor's at 655.


Monday, August 22, 2005

Sanity still in tact

I am so ready to be hoime.

I could stay longer finances permitting if either of the following applied. Either E would join me, making any corcumstance pleasant, or My mom would let me clean sweep her house. Correction, make that my mom *and* my dad.

My parents live in what would be a lovely artist's retreat. It is about 800 square feet and I am totally guessing. The moveable space is closer to 100 square feet. My parents are both hoarders of miscellaneous crap. I think said crap would be manageable for a time if it was my mother's or my father's, but that it is both of their's, individually and collectively, it is an avalanche waiting to happen.

My mom said in the car today, "Lynn said she couldn't live here when we die, too small."

I said, : That's good because it really should go to me and while I couldn't live here full time, it will be a lovely summer home some day."
Mom: You would want it, really?
Me: Yes. Really.
Mom: I will let your father know that so the will is proper.

Please note this does not actually mean she will have this conversation with my father. My father knows how to have a conversation, just not with my mother. Not with my sons either, really. He has one tone of voice, hollering, and one volume, on. I might have to send him an email about it and mention it. We seem to do okay whether in email or actual conversation, but email has something in writing for him to remember by.

I think anyone who spent time as a fly on the wall would say he is verbally abusive. The trouble is he still minds his manners most of the time. I know my mom feels stuck. Either she thinks she is better off surviving him to get everything rather than the half or less she would get upon leaving, or she is too attached to miscellaneous crap which noone who would take her in would allow to come with her. No reasonable person anyway. I am nothing if not reasonable.

My mom has a sister who left her husband after 40 years of marriage and Aunt Trudy is making it work. It's not like she lacks an example. If I had to label it, I would say defeated. Her other two surviving sisters would certainly take her in as they are both retired widows who enjoy her company. While I think we would welcome her also, I know she would perhaps make E and me cuckoo. This is no immediate concern because of the stuff factor. I advised her to imagine visiting Aunt Patty which she will be doing in September for about a month. I told her to then imagine that the house burns down while she is gone. What would she miss? I think it got her to thinking, but it will take way more to motivate her fully.

Que sera, sera...

Sunday, August 21, 2005


I am sitting at the cafe in Lake Placid once again, considering it my detox time. There were eight of us for Sunday brunch at the Hilton, my mom and dad, my sister Lynn and her son Ian, Brenda and bill, and Connor and myself. Brunch itself was not worthy of detoxing, but the weekend visiting without E certainly is. After brunch I went down Main St in LP for some minor shopping with Lynn and Ian. We ended up at Adirondack Yarns and i bought nothing!! E will be so happy.

I reparked the car down here by the cafe and came in for a Chai Latte. When visiting LP, be careful not to asked for a Chai, because that gets you nothing but tea bag chai. Yuckola. Yuckadoo.

There is a man sitting two tables away from me who looks exactly how I imagine Duffer would look after not seeing him for about 20 years if, in fact, if I hadn't seen him three years ago. It isn't Duffer, but he looks like Duffer should be looking. Duffer is Chef William's father. When he and I were together for three years, he was so into fitness that I would never imagine he would ever have anything other than the 27 inch waist he had then.

When I delivered Chef William to him three years ago, I was shocked to see him with a good hundred pounds or so additional...and balding. Badly. I wish I had before and after pics for the illustration.

So this guy is sitting here and has no clue how close I would be to saying hi and talking to him as if he were my ex.

After brunch, Connor went home with Poppy and Nanny because Pop was going to take him shooting. My mom is not up to walking Main Street or I am sure she would have stayed. I am not up for another day od sitting in her house as it really is rather depressing. That means I need to come up with something to do tomorrow. Connor will want to go shooting as it will be the last opportunity. Maybe the boat ride in LP. Maybe something else. We shall see.

The Saga 8/05 part 3

Technically, this is day 5, but since Wednesday was totally lost to travel it is day 4. The fourth day should have E and i back together as I instituted a three day rule early on in our relationship. On occasion there is little to be done about enforcing this rule, and I am ready to be back with my baby. Three days/nights I can handle well enough, beyond that, I just don't like it. I guess that means some retail therapy is required.

Truth be told, I don't like it for one night. I want her with me always.

So today is Sunday and we are meeting family at the Hilton in Lake Placid for Sunday brunch. If willie remembered, he made us a 1230 reservation and we won't have to wait. My sister Lynn and her son Ian will come down from Plattsburgh and Brenda and Bill who we have known long enough to make them family, will join us after church. Add Connor, my mom and maybe my dad to myself and we should be a party of eight.

William tends the omelette station for sunday brunch so that might be the required meal this morning. He said he will try to keep his chef's whites fresh for pictures that long.

It has been interesting seeing him after three years. Apparently he is quite put out with his father and refers to him as Duffer, his nickname, or That Crazy Man. I find it interesting because I have never said a disparaging word about him, and for the first 17 years of his life they had little contact. It is just another small affirmation to see him figuring this out for himself. He has lived with his father for nearly three years now and is in the process of finding his own place. There is an apartment house here which is the equivalent of the projects, but is actually fairly recent construction. It is state subsidized housing and Willie's pastor is helping him to get approved. At least he is not hinting around to come back to Texas.

So he has found god, too. That is a conversation I have managed to side step fairly easily. He had taken Thursday and Friday off so I saw quite a bit of him those days. Every time we stopped back at the hotel, he sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the bible and began reading to pass the time while he waited for me.


Connor has been relatively calm so far. His soul focus is on going target shooting with his pop. My dad says the only requirement is that he display a modicum of maturity. Connor is 14. A modicum is at times a stretch, but he is holding his own. My dad takes every opportunity to remind Connor he is supposed to be mature. It is much easier for him now that his brother has gone back to work. Oil and water, those two.

So Connor is very well adapted to taking my father's criticisms. He also takes every opportunity to mock my dad. This does not go unnoticed, and really, it seems the best way for him to handle my dad. I never thought of anyone as handling my dad, but Connor is already a master. He gives better than he gets most times, and my dad is so taken off guard by it, all he can do is laugh about it. It is perhaps the closest he will come to having a mini-me.

Life has been a comedy these past few days.

Thursday, August 18, 2005


So I found a goffee shop in lake Placid who makes chai lattes *and* has free wireless available. Woohooooooooo...

My oldest, Willie, surprised me at the hotel with a long hug and said as he was hugging, " Thanks mom for not leaving me fopr that crazy man to be raised."


Vindication? Affirmation?

Two disappointments in one and so early in the morning

Two disappointments in one and so early in the morning

Yes, there is enough time to go back to the McD's counter and bitch them out for giving me the wrong breakfast sandwich before i board the plane. No, it just isn't worth the effort and I will chalk it up to fate telling me I was not supposed to eat that crap anyway. At least they got my water right.

That was one.

Now for two, WIFI signs all over the place making me think I can log on and blog my disgust with said McD's. When will I learn that "WIFI access" is not the same as "FREE WIFI access"?

I suppose it is the beginning of my week-long detox. I will be detoxing off of the internet, sure. My folks live in the middle of nowhere. They do have internet access, but they are not likely set up for wireless, and my Mac is not set-up for anything else. Planning might have dictated that I might prepare for that and set it up and pack the phone cord, but no. Didn't happen.

I hope to at least find a cafe offering FREE WIFI in Lake Placid, but I am not betting on it, so this might not even get posted until I get back to Houston.

A cafe. Sigh. I am not sure there is any Starbucks anywhere near my destination, either. I meant to do a search at their site last night but I forgot. I can at least do that on my dad's computer when I get there. I might suffer serious withdrawal. Or it might be a good thing. Spell check says that is the correct spelling of withdrawal. Not so sure.

Drama part 2
So I get off the plane in Chicago, and there is a voice mail from my son. "I overslept. I missed my plane but I am on the next one which comes in at 530 or something. I will try to call again you must be on the plane."

I called my mom to let her know we would not be arriving by 6 just so she would not be all wigged out. You see, my folks are 2-3 hours drive from the airport.

I then get back onto a plane and take my hop to Albany from Chicago. I am waiting in baggage claim for Connor and remaining very calm. Meditation and yoga are serving me well. I was debating whether or not to bring any DVDs with me as I know it drains the battery of my laptop, but I figured I would give it a go and see how season 2 of La Femme Nikita ends up. At this point I am glad I brought them, the last two discs for S2, and while awaiting my son's arrival, I found an outlet by a bench in baggage claim. I can watch *and* recharge.

Finally, my phone rings again. Connor tells me the flight has been delayed with an 8:28 estimated arrival time. Ok, I couldn't help it, I released a heavy sigh.


C: Aw mom, don't get mad. It is vacation afterall.
Me: Clarify please, you missed your flight, and the one you got put onis being delayed. Both those things happened, not just one or the other? It started with you missing your flight?
C: Yeah. I did not set my alarm because I thought dad was getting me up. Dad said I should have set my alarm. My fault.
Me: Back up. Who is the parent, you or dad?
C: Dad.
Me: So it is his fault. Period. End of story.

I have innumerable past experience that dictates that any transaction involving Steven LaMont Witcher, will be convoluted. He. Is. Not. Reliable. Herein lies the source of my calm. I *know* this. It is a lesson I have mastered with great proficiency.

So I was watching Nikita and it occured to me, during the previous conversation with Connor, he informed me the airline mandated he fly UM status, unaccompanied minor. This bit of info delighted my mother, "That means he's not alone through all this mess."

So this little light bulb going off told me that I would not be able to meet my son in baggage claim as we had planned. I would have to sign for him and meet him at the gate. This raised a small panic in that I had absolutely no idea what flight my son was to be on and no number to call him back at. Let's not forget, no unticketed peeps allowed beyond security checkpoints. And I am still looking at a 3 hour drive and I woke up at 5 this morning after a brief stint awake and restless at 2 am.

I found check in and the man looked up the info and gave me a security pass. I check the monitor for the flight he gave me and it is the one that should have arrived at 2:35. The monitor says it is still delayed in Philly. But that is the flight he was supposed to be on, the one he missed.

So I am sitting here at the gate with peeps waiting for the Philly flight to get here so they can go back to Philly. Or get to Philly to transfer to London. Makes me wait more manageable. I imagine hearing E tell me, "Listen to someone else's troubles and you will keep your own." I am glad I am not worrying about making a London connection, though admittedly, I would gladly go to London.

Monday, August 15, 2005

I just learned something new.

I was trying to figure out how to edit comments to remove the comment spam I got on the previous post. I looked around the Blogger dashboard but found nada. Zippo. Then, I just had the brilliant idea to go look at the FAQ page and search 'edit comments'. There it was simple as can be.

And this was all made possible by Dear Sweet Elizabeth who corrupted my desire to bail on my yoga class today. I think that I might not even be missed by my students. Well, maybe by three or four of the 15, but not entirely. I won't see them for two weeks now as vacation draws ever closer. The decision will then need to be made as to whether or not i go back to teaching them.

As E mentioned on her blog today, we have been teaching at a facility for troubled youth. A lockdown facility. She is teaching mural making, and i am teaching yoga. We are each with a group of 15 young women. Teenagers. High schoolers. We had been warned that all the volunteers who take ona program usually leave after three weeks. Of course, this is week three.

It isn't the kids that make everyone run or just not come back. it is the staff. Terri, our friend and the facilitator of all these programs, says it is because they are underpaid. Actually, most of the staff are just glorified babysitters. They are well paid for that position. There are obvious flaws in the system, and it is bothersome to feel like one of the flaws.

This is not something i willl really dwell on, but I feel there has to be some solution. Of course, the solution might be to not go back. I will reserve judgement til after vacation.




Friday, August 12, 2005


It will be about 60 days until it is officially official.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

officially unofficial

156 days. I think that's correct. I was going to install a counter, but could not find one that
was sure enough in using in that it wouldn't fuck up my blog totally. So a random "xx number of days until..." will just have to do. And until it is officially official, that's all I have to say about it. So there.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

Dried cantelope, sour cream, bagels, and rainbow sherbet

Is that a menu or what. That is actually my grocery purchases tonight on my way home from dinner with my friend Beth.

Earlier today, E and I went to the farmer's market and got some produce for the week. We scored two seedless watermelons, two cantelopes, red potatoes, bananas and strawberries. There are still squash and onions left from last week. When we are good about going to the market weekly, and good about cutting the produce when arriving home, we are pretty good then eating better, or healthier, through the week.

We also stopped at Costco where we got the nedded toilet paper and bottled water, dishwasher tablets, and eggs. We neglected to buy the also needed tamponskis and we added blueberries.

this is where the sour cream comes in, as a companion to the blueberries, breakfast tomorrow morning is already calling my name. The bagels i just knew we were in need of, and the dried cantelope and rainbow sherbet are pure impulse purchases. All in all, still a pretty healthful shopping day.

Thursday, August 04, 2005


Originally uploaded by queenmaxine.
Back in the day...

My dad, sometime in the '50s. Musta had a hot date.

Don't wanna get up...

I am feeling lazy and sluggish and i really wanted to go to the beach this morning.


i guess I was just not supposed to be there. History has taught me that yoga is where i need to be this morning, so I am getting my ass up out of bed in a few minutes, into the shower, and out the door. Hmph.

Vacation in two week s will be nice. I hope. Haven't seen my folks in a couple of years and my youngest(14) who is meeting me in NY for a year, so it will be a nice mini reunion. My oldest(20) lives up there now and I haven't seen him since he left the nest 3 years ago. Interesting. He is training in the Lake Placid Hiltom to be a chef and has worked there since moving. I think he is currently a pantry man. I just learned from my mom that he has also acquired a tattoo gun. He is a decent artist, but i am thinking I would rather pay someone at this point. We shall see. E asked, "So he knows about how sanitary he needs to be?" My question exactly.