2004-11-05 - 3:16 p.m.

I am not well kids. Libbyfish has been sick all week, and not in the fun way. I lost my voice and sounded like Froggy from the Little Rascals, but now I am in that very sexy Peppermint Patty stage now. I just want to walk up to people and say, “You’re touching my hand Chuck, you sly dog.” But apparently that episode of Peanuts only aired at my house because NO ONE else knows what I am talking about. Sad really. P is trying to get me to do phone sex on our wrong numbers at home to see if we can get some extra cash. Always the provider that one.
Just so everyone is aware, P and I are now running a B&B. We will have guests staying with us every weekend until the beginning of December. I am going to have to renew that subscription to USA Today for them and stock the mini bar. Does anyone know where I can buy little bottles of shampoo, hand lotion and shower caps?
Tonight a friend of P’s from University gets in. This should be interesting, the first time we met we were all at dinner and he is banging on about how stupid Americans are and how America is just a wasteland. P and I had only been going out a few months so I held my tongue (not an easy feat for libbyfish) but the whole time I am thinking, “Is he aware that I am, in fact, AMERICAN?” The next time we saw him he started in again, and I just couldn’t take it again. I let loose with a verbal lashing he would never forget. Apparently I embarrassed P, he was not happy walking back to the hotel we were staying at. But really, what could I do? Our countries reputation was at stake, we’re not all stupid (just the red states).
Next weekend though… there will be stories. My best friend K is coming in. For those of you that know her that is all that needs to be said. Those of you that don’t… let me spin a little yarn for you. I have known K forever but we became really good friends while we were in high school. You rarely saw one without the other which sparked a rumor that we were lesbians. We never confirmed or denied because we thought it was hilarious. You never have to worry about doing something stupid in front of K… most likely she will think it is as funny as you do. Once, for reasons I have now forgotten, we wore Always Maxi pads on our feet because with the wings they really looked more like sandals. Another time we got absolutely cracked out on diet coke and jelly donuts and rewrote the words to several songs… and recorded them. We stayed up all night doing this (sober I might add), the Deadbeat Club became the Caffeine Club, Blame it on the Rain (ok, this was a long time ago and Milli Vanilli were cool then) became Blame it on your Mom. And who can forget when we shared an apartment across from a church. Every Sunday morning they would wake us up with their singing so we decided that we should entertain them as they came out afterwards. I dressed up like Axl Rose, complete with kilt, flannel, bandana and combat boots, K dressed like slash we stood in the window sills and sang Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door. We were great, although I don’t think the holy rollers knew quite what to think about that, although we did receive a basket of cookies from the church’s Pastor shortly after. We suspected they were laced with holy water. After rereading that section, I fear that you will think we were big fans of Dungeons & Dragons with red pubic hair. But fear not gentle readers, we were actually very cool (and neither of us is a redhead).
Insert non- sequiter here …
In the 36 years my parents have been married they have never discussed who they were voting for, they would watch all the debates and mentally file away who they thought was best suited to the job, but never discussed amongst each other. As a child it made sense to me, I figured it was a secret and that was why they had curtains on the voting booths at school. When I was old enough to register to vote my parents just handed me the form to fill out. I had no idea if I was Republican or Democrat. But it wasn’t something that was discussed. My parents phoned me at work today and my mom’s opening comment was, “did the candidate you voted for win?” I didn’t know how to handle that question. This is not something that we discuss, as far as they are concerned it is a private matter, like genital herpes. For what seemed like an eternity I waffled about what to say, should I tell her the truth, lie, tell her it’s none of her business? But in the end I broke down and told her no, my candidate did not win. This opened up a whole conversation on politics. My dad turned into CNN pundit, quoting debates and issues like he had served on the campaigns. Wait are these my real parents? Has the Florida sun turned them into pod people? Having a political discussion with them was on par with discussing my sex life, something I never imagined happening. But there we were discussing like normal grownups the pros and cons of the next four years. Stay tuned to see if my parents turn out to be baby eating pod people.

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