A Storm called Stormy

If I’m compact, selective and loud, Stormy is orderly, gracious and poised. I’d love for all my friends and family to meet her. No doubt they’d be just as fond of her as I am. She’s charming, agreeable, zany and imaginative. And despite all these Sanguine-like traits, Stormy is unmistakably official, methodical and reliable. She’s an old soul like Aunt Jemima, with a dry, playful wit that reminds me of Bonny Hunt.

Stormy enjoys:

Latin dancing (she’s been a “Salsa Freak” for over a year now).

Music (in Spanish which she cannot speak nor understand).

Brainstorming (about books she will one day write and publish and businesses she’ll surely start).

Collecting hundreds of dishes. (She once bought an entire collection of dishware from a catering business.) Stormy’s response when asked if she bought dishes from a caterer? “Well, that’s just the white dishes.”

Things that involve being systematic and meticulous. (I think she’s in the processes of converting her paper files into electronic documents and reviewing her finances that are in Excel.)

Drinking, preparing and serving tea. (Preferably on her front porch in one of her dozens of “pretty but useful” teapots, on one of her many trays lined with freshly ironed, flowery, cloth napkins because she’s “not a fan of doilies.” Apparently, “even the word ‘doily’ is dumb.”

Making sure everything is clean. (See below for what it looks like when Stormy dries some of the said dishes) I walked into the kitchen only to immediately turn around and run for my camera.




Hosting people and their things. Despite the two bedroom bungalow, Stormy always has room to host. She also has components of her friend’s gumball business stored in her garage.

Freshly baked cookies. One afternoon, Stormy had “a craving for freshly baked peanut butter cookies.” Ergo, she made cookie dough from scratch and baked 4 cookies. Yes, 4. The rest of the dough she strategically placed in the fridge so she could bake and consume “freshly baked peanut butter cookies at any time.”

My favorite Stormy quote? "I'm about to commit horticultural theft."

A Week (ish) In Review Via Camera Phone

This was taken today, the 25th. After eating lunch with Lindy and her family, I filled her kitchen sink with soapy water and began washing a few dishes. Unfortunately, I inverted the plug that keeps the water from draining. In this photo Lindy was attempting to wedge a fork between the plug and the drain so as to eliminate the suction. After 5 long minutes, yanking the plug with pliers proved to be a more conducive alternative.

On the 24th I went to have my acrylic nails filled. There was a ten minute wait and, to keep myself entertained, I looked around the salon. Were the hands in this picture on the wall holding chop sticks or marijuana cigarettes? I ask because pot leaves, YES, pot leaves are adorning the frame. You don’t even need to look closely.

On the 23rd my girls made a sandwich for me. I avoid meat but they thought it was funny to bring a sandwich made with 2 pounds of “Random Ham” and a croissant to my desk. “Random Ham” is what the girls call the ham at The Center. Why? Because it’s processed and made out of the random pieces of the pig. And people wonder why I avoid meat.

Also on the 23rd. An alley cat decided to walk into the house and never leave. We’ve debated over his name. I said, “Cat, you picked us. We didn’t pick you.” So, it made sense to name him “God.” But it was less blasphemous to name him Calvin. Ultimately, Jack is what stuck.

On the 21st it was below freezing. There’s no heat in some of the houses in Florida (ours) so some people were warming their hands over dinner (vegetarian chili).

Jenna sends me this picture of herself on the 17th. She and Al, Megan and Nick were on a wine tasting tour. Jenna wanted me to know that the wine had suddenly snuck up and bit her in the ass.

Salsa Dancing?

Stormy introduced me to the "Salsa Scene" tonight. While I usually begin preparing for bed at ten, Stormy convinced me to put on my dancing shoes. It's all so surreal as Stormy is very conservative. A little voice in my head told me to be prepared and to keep track of blog-worthy-info via my cell phone's notepad. Needless to say, my thumbs had more of a workout than my feet. I mean, this is The County and not Miami.
Upon entering the parking lot, and with car window down, I asked the bouncer if there was a cover charge. He of course replied, "Not for beautiful ladies." Thank God. I can finally pay for something with my looks. We quickly found a parking spot. This suprised me since Stormy's Passat didn't fit one of the 7 spots reserved for "Bikes Only." We reached the entrance and the bouncer whipped out a metal detector (in wand form) and told me I had to leave my purse in the car. It's not more than five minutes later that I realize the guy standing next to me is wearing a jersey that reads "Player 69."
Sure, the dancing was fun. But at one point someone told me to sign up for the wet t-shirt contest because "I got it" and he was "bein straight up." Stormy and I laughed, however, I threw up a little in my mouth at this point. We left before the contest. Rebekah, in response to all of the texts I'd sent her, asked "So is there actually latin dancing going on or just re-enactments of the switch blade fight in West Side Story?" Wow. Next time can we go dancing at the Samba Room in Orlando? Ahh, good times and adventures!