Hi pals. Thanks for reading.

Hello friends!
My third attempt at Blogger (mostly because I can't locate the first and second ones,) and keeping it simple.  I have shared with (too many, sorry) pals about my financial situation recently owing to a) the money guy inherited from my Dad more or less dropping the ball and b) my general inattentiveness to things financial.  But that's OK!  Between this and my looming midlife crisis (everyone has one at age *30*, right)  it's knocked me on my arse to quit treading water.  So, any pals who are reading this, THANK YOU.

After (maybe) amusing a colleague today with an anecdote about an ex that began "a girl...is like a guitar..." I'll start with another one (seemingly endless due to my advanced age.)  After my Mom passed, Dad decided, for whatever reason, to sell everything and move in with his relatives in Shreveport, LA.  Fair cop: he'd been through 2 decades of sadness with my Mom's illness and, besides which, we didn't have a relationship where one discusses these things.  

Once he moved, (note - Shreveport, before Florida's recent ascendency to the black hole of stupid crap happening, was king.  In the early 2000's, if there was a news piece about bad judgment, it was frequently located in Shreveport.) Typically I'd  visit twice a year, and stay in a motel because a) I lose my mind being around people on my downtime and b)  the f**king TV was on 24/7 in that household.  Wake up, turn on the teevee, endure your day, turn it off.  Also c) his sister (not my aunt; I'm adopted) was a virulent control freak and was NOT happy having me around.

I've had a lot of interesting reactions to my person, from Southerners    (granted, this was over a decade ago.)  Dad and I were shopping at the military base PX - I was wearing Jantzen resort pants, my hair its normal pixie, and I had a big cheap men's watch from dog knows where.  While Dad was out of earshot, one of the locals (female) sidled up and said (better if I voiced it:)
Local:  "Excuse me..."
Me: "Uh, hi..."
Local: "Can I ask you something?"
Me: "OK..."
Local: "Are you a lesbian?"
Me:  "Not that I'm aware of."
Local: "It's just that you're wearing a man's watch."
Me: "Um, no, I have it so it doesn't fall off my wrist and I lose it."

Needless to say, I did NOT relate this exchange to my Pop.  He was already really, really bummed about my not having gone into the Marine Corps.  Still so
sorry you adopted a freak, Dad :((

This other incident was even more fun!  I used to love antiquing in the South.  Everything was super-cheap (then.) In my Dad's hometown of Crossett, AK, I was poking around in a shop and this happened:

Proprietor:  "Hi! You're not from around here!"
Me:  "Uh, no actually I live in Los Angeles.  I'm here with my Dad, he grew up here."
Proprietor: "He did, did he?"
Me:  "Yes, his Dad worked in the lumber mill.  His name is Thomas Cone."
Proprietor:  "Cone, huh?"
Me:  "Yes!  C-O-N-E, like icecream cone."
Proprietor:  Are them the ones who had the fancy reception at the country club?"

Note: the Cones are. Not. Fancy.  Remember the setup for 'The Jerk'?  Yeah, that. Really, EXACTLY that . Anyway, I'll leave the "Nightclub in the Swamp" til later, it was way to snotty.  Please critique if you can be bothered to read xo A