But, I Didn't Pee My Pants

I started this week by inhaling the essence of the Queen of Sheba up my left nostril and was all, Oh, I only walk on 3inch padded long nap ecru Persian rugs and If you don’t peel my grapes, I’m going to banish you to a life of only reality television and morning radio shows and I’m thinking we’ll paint the walls golden bronze, straw, ochre, saffron or amber and it’s really important you tell me which one you like the best because they are ALL SO DIFFERENT.

In other words, I was awesome to be around.

This could be because I was overcompensating my lameness of the weekend previous. The one where I drove to the OC with my son, Devon. And it took three hours and I had a soda. A very large Dr. Pepper that went straight to my bladder and starting dancing the Hustle at the speed of light. But we were almost there! And there was nowhere to pee! And there was traffic! Never have I wished so hard for anything as I did for an adult diaper at that moment. And then we turned on some roads and passed some signs and stuff and OMG I had to go pee!!

So we finally got to the street in Laguna where Heather and Jon were staying and I saw their condo on the left and went PHEW! DEVON PARK THIS HEAP WHILE I RUN IN AND GO PEE! So Dev makes with this really heavy sigh (BUT HE HAS NOT HAD 4 KIDS so he doesn’t know what that does to your body. KEGELS!!) and a few eye rolls and says Really? NOW? but I didn’t even notice because ZOMG THE PEEING I needed to do. I swung open the door and jumped about a foot down to the ground. (FORESHADOWING) But I didn’t trip and fall and I was very proud of that. And then Devon climbed up a few feet (AGAIN FORESHADOWING) closed the door and I started walking away and then I heard this awful noise like tires spinning. Because the TIRES WERE SPINNING. Because the streets in Laguna go up and down the hills at about a 50% grade. Just kidding! It’s only about 25%. (REALLY) And I had pulled into this driveway that had more major angles than Blagojevich. And only one of the back tires and one of the front tires were touching the ground and the back one was just touching enough to make this really awful burny smell.

So, I looked at the van, perched and wobbling as it was, and I almost forgot I had to pee. Almost. And I looked at the van some more. And I realized that I had left the van in the MOST awkward and unsafe position possible and in fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the van toppled over on its side. (REALLY) And in fact (AGAIN), I believe Devon said something like MOM THIS VAN IS GOING TO TIP ON THE SIDE! And I just kept staring because I remembered I had to go pee but I knew if I left, my son would end up lying on his left side, head in the gravel or he would try to move the van backwards again and the van would IN FACT move forward and slam into the truck about 6 inches in front of him. And the van, that beast that weighs about a million pounds, would just go faster and faster and careen out of control, crashing into cars and houses and people on both sides of the street including a baby in a stroller in there somewhere and then slam into the busy 101 where the van would kill a family of six, (a RELIGIOUS family of six, that included a 13 year old piano prodigy that was on his way to a concert where he was raising millions of money for a cure for cancer and THEY WOULD HAVE DONE IT, TOO!) and then roll over and over until Devon was almost dead and with his last breath he would ask Why didn’t you just go at the Shell station in Irvine, Moooooooommmm…….

But I still had to pee. And then, suddenly Jon was there. Yay! It’s Jon! It was better than the 2nd coming. And he asks how it’s going and I almost want to pinch him because HELLO! How does it look like we’re doing? But, actually, I’m SO GLAD TO SEE HIM that I almost forget I have to pee. But not really. Because although it’s awesome to have someone like Jon on your team when trying to get your van that is teetering like it’s on top of a spike out of immediate danger, your body, when you REALLY have to go pee, won’t let you forget it. I actually considered just letting it go. You know, whizzing in the street. Letting the yellow river flow. Watering the plants with my electrolyte leftovers. But then I didn’t, because it would totally ruin my boots.

SO THEN. I realized that Jon had actually come from the other side of the street. (How fun would that have been to run into the wrong place, frantically trying to use the bathroom? Eh??) From further up the hill. And I could see Heather, glowing (pregnancy looks so good on her!), in the window looking out and giving me the strangest look. AND THEN. I realized I was going to have to walk up the hill about 50 feet, not peeing. And then Devon is really concentrating and I’m telling him to turn the wheels all the way one way and Jon is telling him to turn the wheels all the way the other way and Devon is getting frustrated and we’re all a little freaked out and the smell in the air is like we’re lounging around a tar pit on fire and finally Jon goes – Hey Leah! How about you go up to the house and go pee already. – and I can see in his eyes that he would really like it if I wasn’t telling Dev all the wrong stuff to do (JUST MAKING HIS JOB HARDER) (REALLY NOT HELPING) and I heard in his voice that uber-patient tone that you use on the nearly deaf and very young children. The same voice he used when I got lost on the way to their home in SLC and he had to guide me in. Every time. And so I turned around and carefully/quickly walked up the hill and found the right door. And Heather was all Hey! How are you? What’s goi……. And I ran past her and into the bathroom and THE HEAVENS OPENED AND THE ANGELS REJOICED!

As I sat on the throne, my arms wrapped around my knees, my head resting on my legs, relishing every last drip, I tried to remember what I had been so concerned about just a few minutes ago. Hmmm. Was it something about the economy? Or…..maybe I forgot to pay the electricity bill? And then suddenly, I remembered my son was about to die, the van was about to crumple and Heather was in the hall wondering what the hell was going on, her hair blown back from the speed at which I’d passed her.

By the time I’d finished with the bathroom things, (ahem) and run into the hallway, Dev and Jon were back inside. Everything was going to be fine. No one died. The van didn’t crash into anything. (The solution? Leave the van parked haphazardly half in the street and inches away from the truck in front of the van and wait for the owner to come home and move it 10 feet forward. And it worked.) And then we all held hands and swayed left and right while singing Kumbaya.

Leta, who is secretly a fairy, pronounced that my favorite princess was The Princess and the Pea and used her magic to read incredibly long and complex words that no child her age should be reading. Unless they are a genius. Which she is.

The Burrito King came and we got the most delicious food we’d ever tasted. Even our taste buds sang. And we laughed heartily and merrily with our heads thrown back and our hair flowing down our backs and thought how lucky we were to be lottery winners and how much fun we were going to have when we all owned our new Vespas and buzzed around town in our matching purple Polo shirts and Birkenstocks.

And later, when Dev and I got ready to leave, I used the bathroom. Twice.

C'est La Vie

She’d been in Hawaii only two days and already she had burn marks along her shoulders where her swimsuit had rubbed off the sunblock, or ‘Sauce’, as her husband called it. People Sauce.

The weather was perfect. The ocean water was warm and relatively calm. The fish were plentiful, even if not so exotic.

She’d just lathered up with Sauce a few minutes ago, right before she got back in the water with her mask and snorkel in tow. Starting near the shore, she kicked off and worked her way in slow, small rows towards the reef. She took her head out of the water and looked for her husband or the rest of the family but didn’t find any near by.

Dipping her face back down, she noticed a school of Bluelined Butterfly fish and paused long enough to watch their passing.

She was listening to the sound of the water hitting inside her ears, the calm and fullness of the ocean, when she thought she heard someone say turtle. ‘Turtle! Here’s a turtle!’

She whipped her head up to find the direction of the yelling, hoping to get there in time to see the turtle, when at that same moment, her wedding band slipped off her finger. Quickly, she put her face back down and frantically searched the water. She spotted the ring, sinking, sparkling, about 4 feet away. She took a deep breath and prepared to dive.

Just then a large Rudderfish swam from stage left and YOINK ate her ring and continued swimming on. She followed him for a bit, frantic and in shock, but then he joined two others and they swam around and underneath one another until she didn’t know which one was which and which one contained in its belly her precious silver band.

She stopped swimming and wondered what she should, could do. And then it hit her. Nothing. She could do nothing and the fish was gone anyway.

Sadly, she made her way to the shore, mask lifted and arranged on her forehead, tears dripping down her face. No one was the wiser since the tears blended in so well with the drops of sea water coming down from her wet, haphazard hair.

When she got to the shore, she located her husband and made her way in the water to tell him the sad news. When she finished with her tale, he burst out laughing.

‘It’s not funny!’ she said. ‘Actually, it is quite.’ he replied, but tried to tone down his laughter in the face of her tears.

And now that it’s been a few weeks, she finally agrees.

Why I'm Crying (updated)

I shot a wedding a few weeks back.
My computer only holds so many photos before going tits up.
I routinely load the photos by the 100 to disks and then erase them from my computer. (can you see where this is going?)
I went to Kinkos to make a banner for the bride and groom of the moment right after ‘I Do!’
The disk I used? I lost there.
I left it. Or they didn’t give it back. Or they gave me the wrong one. Or something.
I called and they have never heard of the word disk.
The 100 photos from the walk down the isle to the I Do moment? Gone.
What is the word I am looking for?
I don’t even know the word to say how I feel.
Loser is so inadequate.

UPDATE: Thanks Daily Piglet and Michelle. I tried both and neither one could find the images. I am afraid I have used the flash card way too many times since the wedding. I take a lot of photos. But I do appreciate the help. If there is some heavy-duty application that works on a pc hard drive after a defrag, that might work but I can’t find one.