I See London, I See France

Okay, so, I locked myself out of my house on Thursday.

I didn’t just lock myself out. I locked myself out on my deck, after having worked out in shorty pajama bottoms and a sports bra.

Fine. It wasn’t a sports bra. It was a bra bra. Dark blue with stripes, so not like a white Playtex® Living Bra or anything. But still. I totally lied about the sports bra thing. 

I just walked out on my deck for a minute. It’s semi-private. I wasn’t worried about stepping out for just a second or two.

The door knob was locked, but the door wasn’t shut all the way. When I went outside and pulled the door closed, well then, my two seconds outside expanded.

I sat in a chair under an umbrella and argued with myself.

You have no idea when Randy will get back. Joey is at work. You have no way of calling Randy. Let’s face it, you’re going to have to walk around the house to the front. In your underwear. 

Nope. Not gonna happen. It’s nice outside anyway. And I need quiet time. Who doesn’t need some quiet time? I certainly need some relaxing quiet time. Fuck you. I am not walking out in front in my underwear. 

Bullshit. You’re going to walk around the house in your underwear. And it’s not that bad. It’s pajama bottoms at least. Sure, maybe they are booty bottoms, but still. And the bra could totally pass as a sports bra. Kind of. 

No. 

Yep. It’s going to happen. And you have to walk through the snake-y part of the yard in your bare feet. 

Fuck. 

I squared my shoulders, held my head high, and walked around to the back gate. The gate has a bunch of overgrown vines around it and it’s next to the broke ass koi pond. It’s goddamn snake heaven there. I am short and the gate is kind of tall and I couldn’t figure out how to work the latch and I had to duck under a bush to even get to the latch. I wondered if there was such a thing as bush snakes. Then I started laughing because “bush snakes” sounds funny. I also have the humor of a 12 year old boy.

So, I was alone, in my underwear, being outsmarted by a fence, and laughing for no apparent reason. Awesome.

I wasn’t going to run or slink. Fuck that. I would walk to my front door as if it was no thing at all to be walking around in my underwear. I tried to quell the thought that Randy might have locked the front door when he left. I decided, if that happened, I would just make myself as small as possible on the front porch until he got home.

The front door was not locked.

Randy got home about 120 seconds later. Normally, he would give me shit, but I would only remind him of the time he did the same thing. He was dressed, though.

Is that the end? Nope. I mean, it is the end of the underwear part, but it’s not the end of the backyard/snake part.

I went back outside, fully dressed and with my cell phone. I sat back where I had been sitting earlier in my underwear. I noticed something in the middle of the yard.

What the fuck is that? That’s not a snake. That’s a turtle. 

Fuckity fuck. That’s not a turtle. That’s a coiled up snake. Goddammit. Fucking snakes.

I went inside and told Randy. He looked out the window and could kind of see it.

Randy: Did you see it move? Are you sure that’s a snake? Why’s it all bunched up?

Me: It’s just coiled up. Snakes coil. Coiling is common snake behavior. And I think I saw the head move. I thought it was a turtle at first, but turtles aren’t all black.

I couldn’t stop checking on the snake. It had it’s neck stretched up. Probably just taking in the sun. In my yard. In. My. Yard.

I fucking hate snakes.

Joey came home from work and I pounced on him.

Me: There’s a black snake coiled up in the back yard.

Joey: Cool! Where?

So we went outside. There was a bouncy ball by the deck left there from when the grandkids were here a few weekends ago. He kicked it at the snake, but that snake was motherfucking stoic. Or it was stoned and really into looking at the clouds.

Joey looked at me, looked at the snake and walked over and picked it up.

Here is the snake:

Metal snake

Pretty sure when Joey walked by me, I heard him whisper “dumbass” under his breath.

I showed Randy the metal snake.

Randy: Must be a Whitesnake.

How was your week?

It wasn’t all snakes and walking around in public in my underwear, though. I also had an article on Good Housekeeping this week. Yay!

I am also on Grand magazine talking again about what we women of a certain age shouldn’t wear.

Here are a few memes that I posted on Rubber Shoes In Hell’s Facebook page.

Here’s to a kick ass weekend. I’m having a bourbon in your honor. Or my honor. Either way, I’m having a bourbon. Probably more than one.

 

 

 

 

 

56 Thoughts.

  1. Ha ha ha ha ha, I’m so glad I’ve never done that, mainly as I live alone and if I get locked out I’d be really screwed unless I’ve left the back window open. However, that would also require me to walk completely around the building and somehow locate some step ladders…shudders at the whole idea, but what a comedy sketch that would make, as long as I wasn’t starring in it, it would be hilarious.

    Whitesnake did give me a good old laugh. I think you need to paint it and make it a permanent addition to the deck 🙂

  2. If it had been a swimsuit it would have been no big deal but it’s underwear so it’s bad.
    I understand your embarrassment. I’m just saying fashion is pure hypocrisy.
    And “bush snakes” sounds equally hilarious and terrifying.

  3. Thank YOU for making my head have pretty lights and flashers again 🙂

    I totally think it still looks like a snake.

    But I LIKE snakes, so…

    Good thing it wasn’t mouse shaped 🙂

    Nothing could have saved you, then.

    • I knew Lisa and I both had to be snake lovers! I had two favorite places to go as a child: Pioneer City, which was an Old West type park, and Miami Serpentarium, which was all about the reptiles. My favorite part was always the section where you could have your picture taken holding a non-venomous snake, usually an Indigo. I’m also a big alligator lover. I have alligators all over my house and a few small ones in my car. Haha! Seen any metal alligators in your yard yet, Michelle? 🙂

      • Terri Lee!! It’s cuz we’re sssooo ssslinky and ssssexy….
        😉
        I had a 6 ft Python that I used to ‘wear’ to the store and mall…
        Then, when my boys were young, we had a Boa named Ka. She got a weird lip infection and is in the veterinary books now.
        The best way to end up locked out of your house in your jammies is drunk. Then who cares how long you are there (if you have a full drink 😉 ) and what you’re wearing is practically a disclaimer of it’s own.
        But, again, I live in front of a cornfield… I can make up quite a few rules as I go… plus, my neighbors on both sides are pretty ‘clothing optional’ themselves… we had two years of ‘naked Ashton.’ (He WAS 2 … 🙂 ) and my other neighbor mows his yard pantsless behind a four foot fence… (he has trouble with heat rash chafing 🙂 )

        So… maybe us Oregonians are less critical of flesh sightings and jammie wearings…

        Must be our new recreational allowances 😉

        Here’s hoping we ALL have a better week.

  4. Haha. ..I’ve locked myself out several times. Talk about feeling helpless. I just couldn’t live with snakes in my yard holy fkn jesus NO…& bush snakes, while hilarious, are too goddamn disturbing to consider…wonder if you could kill them with bourbon?

    • Yeah, I have seen actual snakes in my yard, not just metal ones. My garden looks like shit and the pond is just sludge because I’m not working out there. Fuck that. I hate snakes. I got startled by one working in the garden two years ago and now I’m done. If Randy doesn’t do it, then it’s not happening.

  5. Did Randy hear my GROAN at his Whitesnake reference? Metal snake, indeed! HAHA! Where was David Coverdale when you needed him? Totally useless.

    Your escapades remind me of the old days in this neighborhood I live in, when we had the coolest fucking street ever. The people, for the most part, were great and we all got along and looked out for each other. But, I’m sure a few of them (most on the street were older than Paul and me) thought I was the crazy young kid in the bunch. One night, my cat got out the front door (around nine at night, of COURSE) and I was chasing after her. She ended up running into the hedges of my neighbor across the street. I was in my little cotton nightie and I’m down on my hands and knees in the hedge, trying to grab her and just then, here comes my neighbors’ van around the corner and they’re pulling into their driveway. They looked down at me, I looked up at them and said, “Hi! I’m getting my cat!” HAHAHA!!! They just slowly nodded and said, “Okay.” I did get my cat out though, so they had to realize I was telling the truth and not actually on some med-induced trip, imagining their hedge was an Amazonian rain forest. Another time—yeah, I have a history—the next door neighbors weren’t home and their dog was barking at something. I went out to investigate and it was one of those huge, venomous Bufo toads. Those things can kill a dog or cat if they bite it. So, wearing my underwear, a tank top and throwing a robe on, I walked out and climbed over the chain-link fence to get the dog away from the toad. I managed to poke the toad so he hopped away–probably to my yard (shudder)—calmed the dog down and proceeded to climb back over the fence. My underwear got hooked on one of the metal protrusions on the top of the fucking fence. There I was, hanging from the fence by my damned underwear, struggling to unhook myself. Fortunately, at that point, Paul came outside to see what the hell I was doing and saw me suspended in air with the worst wedgie known to man or woman. After he was done laughing—“yeah, Paul, haha, very funny, can you just come help get me the fuck off this fence before the neighbors come home and find me here???”—he unhooked my panties for me and I managed to hop off. Like the toad. The neighborhood is no longer like that, which saddens me. Now, if I walked out back in my underwear, I’d have to worry about some weirdo staring at me through our hedges—yes, this has happened. Well, the weirdo looking at me through the bushes part happened, but I was wearing clothes.

    Next time you have any snake issues, call me! Unless it’s venomous. Then call a snake whisperer. Although, snakes don’t have ears or the sense of hearing. So, maybe call a snake wrangler. Joey’s new title. 🙂

    • HAHAHA…omg…I love this. And I am happy to say I’ve never hung by my underwear. I don’t worry about venomous snakes here. I think there are some indigenous to this area, but they are few and far between, I’ve only seen garter snakes and black snakes around here.

      • I haven’t seen a garter snake in a long time here. I used to catch them when I was a kid. I’d bring home lizards, snakes, frogs, stray dogs, etc. Ha! I was a tomboy. I remember one time I set all my Barbie furniture up in the bathroom, brought home some frogs so they’d have their own “resort”. I placed them on the Barbie chaise lounges and they were swimming in the bathtub. My grandmother started pounding on the door, ordering me to unlock it and she blew my whole Frog Cancun Getaway thing. I look back on that now and could kick myself though. How frightened do you think those poor little frogs were? I was made to turn them loose again outside, so I’m sure they were thrilled to get the hell away from me!

        • All I can think is, “That’s some strong motherfucking nylon lycra blend in them panties.”
          I’m sure my cotton breathers would have dropped my happy ass on the ground, complete with bloody fence scratches and bad elbow bruises.

          Your Barbies had some fun!! My Barbies drove John Deere tractors and swam in the horse trough. Naked.

  6. I locked myself out once in speedos. All of neighbors were women. Pick the harmless one, wallow my pride and go. It worked out really well.

  7. Haha. Oops.

    I can’t remember ever having locked myself out of the house, but I did lock my keys in the car once. While the car was running…

  8. I saw a neighbor dashing around her house in what I thought was an ugly swim suit and it was cool and a light drizzle so I thought it odd. Not judging, must have been an emergency and I must keep my eyes and thought to myself!

  9. Many years ago we lived in Gainesivlle, Florida in a mobile home that was as drafty as a wind tunnel. In winter we taped plastic around the windows to keep the cold out. One night at about 3 AM I heard “scratching” sounds inside the plastic and I thought, crap – a roach. We had 5 indoor cats at the time and they were going nuts at the movement, so I got up (in the dark) and found the sound and squished and squished the roach. It was disgusting, even though I never actually touched it. In the morning when my husband got up I told him to undo the plastic to get the squished roach out. While I was lounging in bed he brings in a small SNAKE. THAT WAS WHAT I SQUISHED! A SNAKE! WITH MY BARE HANDS! I started jumping around and shaking my hands like that was going to get the snake cooties off. I’m amazed I didn’t break the window! How the hell did I smash a snake’s head in?!?!? Just thinking about it now – ICK!

  10. I enjoyed the empty nest story. I don’t usually get locked out as my keys are on a chain clipped to my pants, but if had had your pants, it would have been another story entirely.
    As for the snake, I think you should name her (like Beyonce the giant metal chicken), my suggestion? Ivy, as in Poison Ivy from the Cramps.

  11. I go outside in my underwear all the time….drives my husband crazy. I just don’t care. I try to be careful, but hey from a distance how does anyone know what I am really wearing? I mean folks wear their robes over their jeans…

  12. Love this blog. Just found it and it’s laugh out loud funny. I can certainly relate to the 12 year old humor as it matches my own.

  13. This was riotous. The snake part reminded me of a time when I was living in Louisiana, where they have nutria (along with snakes!). A nutria is a swamp rodent that’s bigger than a house cat. They live mostly in bayous and drainage ditches, but also anywhere they damn well please – because they’re huge. One night I’d come home late from work, and was walking to my apartment from the parking lot, carrying my sleeping daughter who I’d just picked up from the sitter’s, when I saw a big ole nutria sitting on the sidewalk between me and my front door. I ended up walking all the way around the building in order to come at my front door from the opposite direction, only to find out it was just a broken tree limb lying there, swaying in the breeze so it looked even more threatening and deadly.
    I think I’ll have a bourbon too now, since you dredged up that memory, and raise a toast to vivid imaginations!

  14. I can’t believe I missed this! I did the same thing last week, but mine was a stick. I went so far as to wake up the man which is something I try to avoid since last time he almost shot me! I need a Joey…hubby is more scared than I am!

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