Buena Suerte

I was recently visiting Ecuador, and decided one day to go for a giant walk around the city of Quito. It looked like it might rain, but maybe not, so I rolled up my raincoat as tiny as it could get and stuffed it into my fanny pack, which you may recall I single-handedly made cool again back in 2014. And now they're all the rage. But I digress. Stuffing my raincoat in there meant I could no longer fit my wallet, so I grabbed about $160 in cash and my AMEX card and set out. 

I knew that I ought to keep my wits about me while I meandered the city and for the most part I didn't encounter that many people. I found a park and found an adorable group of old men playing giant marbles. I mean there was probably a better name for it but from what I could tell they were throwing giant balls into a circle and trying to knock the other balls out. Suddenly they all left! but they were just walking to the next spot to throw the balls from. It was cute. I wanted to sit next to this guy for a while but I didn't know if the tree would break and that would have made me die of embarrassment so I didn't do it. 

After that I started walking toward the basilica and I felt relieved because 1) I had been there the day before and 2) I was excited to try the best sandwich shop in Quito according to my friend and 2b) I was starving.

I felt something hit the top of my head, kind of like a tickle, and I looked up and saw nothing. A woman behind me said, in broken English, "oh, a bird pooped on you". I was like UGH CRAP, but the woman had some tissues and she was sort of helping me wipe some of it out of my hair. Another older man came up too and offered his tissues. Apparently some of the poop got on my sweater too, which made me sad because it's my cute favorite sweater and it's cream colored and I spent way too much money on it. I was trying to stay positive and so I said in Spanish "well they say it's good luck when a bird poops on you". And the old man laughed. He said "yep! it's good luck!"

Then a kid (who I had seen earlier and who looked very local but was carrying a paper map which I thought was really weird) came up and started helping me too. He explained that the poop was all over the back of my sweater and helped me take it off so he could show it to me. Except I was wearing my fanny pack like Micah taught me to, cross body and on my back - so he had to take my purse off and hand it to me so that he could then help me with the sweater. The purse had poop on it too YUCK and so then the lady started wiping that. 

The kid showed me my sweater and it was COVERED in poop - I had to take a picture because I couldn't believe how ruined my sweater was and although I was so sad I also found it funny and I wanted to get a picture of it. 

They cleaned me up as best as their tiny tissues would allow and then all went their separate ways. It was only then that I had a little cry because I was SO HUNGRY and now I would have to get a cab back to my apartment AND find some laundry soap because there was none AND there was poop on the back of my pants too and I didn't want to get a cab all dirty. So I took my hands and sort of wiped down the back of my pants and when they felt dry I hailed a cab.

Safely in the back of the taxi, I got a text message from AMEX. Did I try to buy $2500 worth of furniture from a store in Ecuador? Uhhhh, no --- and probably somebody had stolen my card number at some point on this trip or whatever...how irritating, so I called AMEX back to tell them I had not. The customer service representative asked me for the code on the back of my card and so I went in my fanny pack to grab that and realized my card was gone. And my cash. 

I figured that stupid kid with the map must have nabbed my card and cash while he was taking my fanny pack off. Oh that made me sad, especially since I now had no way to pay the cab. I was still on the phone with the customer service agent and started crying AGAIN because nobody likes being robbed.

I explained to the cab driver that I would was robbed and would have to go up to my apartment to get my cash card and then hit the ATM in the base of my building. Then I explained the whole story about getting pooped on by a bird and then robbed to the doorman, and to the man in the elevator and oh boy was I laugh-crying the whole time. Then I walked to the store to get laundry soap and got back to my apartment and used dishsoap in the sink to spot clean the sweater. 

As I was examining the pants, and the sweater and finally had some distance and perspective I realized what kind of a pterodactyl must have pooped that amount of poop on me and then disappeared into thin air...because I never actually saw a bird and then googled "bird poop robbery Quito" and this came up.

They got me. Good luck, my ass.

en Espanol

You know how when you call any customer service line in the world and they say if you wanna hear it in Spanish you better press option two? But they say it in Spanish say they go "oh, prima dos?"

At least that is what I was certain they were saying "OH you know whatever you want, press two"

I am so dumb. OPRIMA is the verb for "press" --- I learned this from a Colombian elevator and Google translate.

New Year's Resolutions and other things that go Cream Ca...PUT

You know, I used to really really enjoy writing in this format and even achieved the goal of writing EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. one year. Unbelievably that was last a thing in my life in about 2016. We were so young then!

These days I share my musings on Instagram stories, which disappear after 24 hours which is such a blessing and also such a curse: a blessing because of my short attention span and a curse because I do love reading and re-reading myself because as you all know I'm definitely my biggest fan. 

ANYWAY I just spent 3 months in South America and just like every time I leave the United States and subsequently return to the United States I resolve to be a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PERSON. I'm going to start writing letters, hugging children, rescuing kittens (but not allowing them in my house or anything - I just mean finding them under a dumpster and kindly bringing them to someone else who will have them in THEIR house), losing weight, being nicer to everyone, finally submitting that foster parent application to Hennepin County, etc. Consequently, I think it's time to dust off this old thing and start typing into the netherworld again my innermost thoughts and outermost embarrassing farts, etc.

You can make fun of me in two days when we all realize I go the way of 2019-2022 when I only wrote once about a freaking CREAM CAN.

The Cream Can

My dad and I ran down to the annual Roosevelt Flea Market to see what kind of junk we could find. Flea market shopping with my dad always reminds me of the time my mom said he came home with a lawn chair for $2 that had a $1 sticker on it. HA

Anyway we made our rounds and all the same vendors were there - people selling vintage stuff, stuff they made, etc. I found a very cool LADIES sign that would have fit perfectly into the cutout above my bathroom on the main floor but was listed for $275 so no thank you. 

We ran into lots of neighbors including Butch and Sandi Fish, and at one point somebody told my dad he better go check out the cream cans the old feller outside the barn had for sale. We had already been by there and nothing grabbed our attention but we went back to see what all the fuss was about. 

AND WOULDJA LOOKEE HERE:

This one used to belong to my Great Grandpa Peter Hexum, Roosevent Minn. The old feller said he wanted $100 but we got it for $60. And THEN we told him it's a family heirloom and we woulda paid $1000. Just kidding but kind of. 

So cool and so exciting and so happy it's back where it belongs on my dad's porch.

Obviously all of us kids are fighting over it. Pete thinks it's rightfully his because his name is right there on it, I think it's rightfully mine because I'm the one who coughed up the sixty bucks and my dad's brother Aaron seems to remember Grandpa whispering something on his death bed about bequeathing the cream can...

I sure hope our family survives this. 

Hal-isms, Vol. 74

"Stick to bein' a cop. Quit this kissin' stuff."

"You expect a lot outta people who aren't Norwegians."

"Whoa whoa whoa what's going on?"
** his phone rang

"I've seen this - the kids are dead the mom screams and screams 'madre dios' let's watch somthin' else."

"That was before when I used to get offended when people did me dirt."

Logic

All my life my parents never locked the doors to their house. I don't think I ever in my life had a key.

One day this summer my dad and I were leaving the house together and he locked up behind us. I looked at him funny and he goes, "when your mom was alive it was only half mine. Now it's ALL mine."

Coffee Talk

My dad's Keurig is on the fritz.

I suggested he might need a new one. He asked how much they are and I said, "I don't know? 30 bucks?"

Hal: "Wanna pay $15 each?"

Me: "no"

Hal: "Well, $15'd be easier for both of us."