Standing On The Edge

If you send Postcards From The Funny Farm online like my bloggy buddy Damien does, society accepts this. It’s not unlike like the “I’m not a doctor, but I play one on TV” mentality. You can get away with doing things online and on TV that are perhaps not tolerated as well in real life. Like being RANTastic, for example.

People love to read bitchy things online. It’s a whole different story if they have to listen to you in person. If you can find someone who really wants to listen to your crap, consider yourself lucky.

That being said, sometimes the manure just piles up to a point that you find yourself physically licking the stamps and heading to the mailbox with your “postcards from the edge”. When this happens, friends, it’s high time to take some action. Unless you want to talk to spirits through Ouija boards and one day risk reincarnation as a Britney Spears or a Lindsey Lohan. Or worse, Shirley Maclaine.

At least Britney and Lindsey realize they have issues.

I have issues with heights and find the edge of anything quite unsettling. With all that’s been going on here lately (I promise-full story coming soon!), I needed a break before I broke, mentally and financially, so we decided to escape for the weekend.

The signs were all there. I’ve been so carefully hand building and decorating my dollhouse. One evening late at night, I was working on it while wearing my TMJ splint (which gives me Angelina Jolie lips), and something about her just overcame me. No, I didn't just have a baby like Jessica Morris or two like Brangelina. I also didn't change one of my kids' names to Knox, either.

Knock. Knock. Who's there? Knox. Who's there, I said? KNOX. Who's there? Knox Jolie-Pitt! Honestly, terrible name, Angelina.

I decided to paint the bedroom in my dollhouse what turned out to be a positively dreadful purple color. The color of the paint was called “Deep Purple Dream” but on the walls of my dollhouse, “Torture Chamber” "Nightmare On Elm Street" or maybe even "Deep Throat" seems more applicable.

I tried to make the best of it, but I was unable to locate any miniature chains, whips, sex swings and/or bondage devices for dollhouse torture chambers. In case you were wondering, nobody sells leather outfits or those gag balls for dollhouse people, either.

I try my best to always make lemonade from lemons, but I guess I’ll just have to get some Killz and repaint it.

And then, I totally upset Desperate Housewives suburbia when I took Middle Daughter to the world famous Jade Dragon Tattoo Parlor (they tattoo Motley Crue!) in my minivan to get her nose pierced. More about that later, too. (It’s not as bad as it sounds.) Interestingly, if you ever watch Miami Ink with the somewhat Angelina-like and very edgy Kat Von D, two of her tattoo artists in her shop come from Chicago's Jade Dragon. The work they do there is amazing if you're into that kind of thing. I don't want one, but I don't mind watching the work in progress. Contrary to what you see on LA Ink, people were kind of yelping in pain getting tattooed. I knew it!

But, I finally knew I was in trouble when I was playing Malcolm’s weekly trivia game and really believed that Gary Coleman had won an Emmy.

Seriously. Gary Coleman? An Emmy? What was I thinking? DANGER DANGER DANGER!. I knew it was time to take action. Final straw. Book the hotel room.

So, we cowboyed up and I did something this weekend that I haven’t done since I was a youngin’ on my grandparent’s farm in Alabama.

I rode a horse. GIDDYUP!

And unlike last year’s “Ride An Elephant at the Renaissance Fair” fiasco, this was so pleasurable, I can’t wait to do it again!

We went to Seneca and Utica, Illinois in search of peace, harmony, nature and a heck of a rock band. My buddy, The Big BahUna, played a gig at Seneca’s Summerfest on Saturday night with his new band, Betty Might, and we wanted to see him, so we made a family togetherness weekend out of it.

Being from a big city, I will say they use the term “Summerfest” a little loosely there.

It’s more of what we would call a carnival here in Chicago. Something that arrives overnight in a parking lot somewhere and vanishes as quickly as it came in 3 or 4 days with all of your money. Not completely unlike the people transiently employed at said Summerfest :)

Starved Rock State Park is right in that area and truly, it is one of the most captivating places I have ever seen. They offer a tour on horseback around one of the canyons and through a huge field of wheat. Yeah, not corn! Took me by surprise, too! Our tour guide, Cassie, was not only informed about everything under the sun related to the Starved Rock area, but she was definitely a storyteller just like my other bloggy friend, Shelly.

Cassie engaged us with stories of the Native American tribes and their buffalo runs. The buffalos were chased to the cliff’s edges and they would fall to their deaths providing food and skins for the Native Americans that once inhabited that area. She also taught us about the different markings on horses and which ones were considered sacred by the Native Americans. It was really fascinating and I found the stories combined with movement of the horse and the scenery to be soooo relaxing.

And I must say, even for city folk, the kids and I make awesome cowboys, no?



I could have stayed there forever if my butt didn’t hurt so bad. They really should pad those saddles a bit for bone butts like me. Thank goodness the hotel had a hot tub.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Cassie's historical tales we great, but you know me and my insatiable appetite for stories of crime and/or scandal, and I wanted to know the scoop on what really goes on in that place. She laughed and told me some tidbits and suggested I read a book called "The Starved Rock Murders".

Starved Rock Murders? How on earth did I miss hearing about that? I went to the bookstore, but they didn’t have it. I’m trying to locate a copy online, but so far, I’m having as much luck as I had with the itty bitty S&M search. Perhaps the cover of this book might have something to do with its' lack of circulation. I'm just saying.

When we left Starved Rock, two deer jumped right in front of my car. I had never seen one so close up alive before and they were magnificent. One fled, but the other froze inches from my bumper and just gazed at us with her huge chocolate colored eyes for a while. We stared back in wonderment. As my kids would say....kewl!

The whole weekend was way kewl except for a too small hotel room. A night in there would have been tolerable, but the entire weekend in that room was what you might refer to as a little too much family togetherness.

At first, I was very disappointed that JW couldn’t go with us as planned because of a work situation. I mistakenly thought that computers were supposed to make one’s life easier. That might be partially true for the users, but for the people who have to maintain them, this is a total fallacy.

In the end, I was actually kind of relieved because there wasn’t room as it was in the hotel with the five of us. Another body in there might have sent someone over the edge, exactly like the buffalo. Or worse, Shirley Maclaine. We certainly wouldn’t want that to happen!

I have to say, things are looking up. No more walking on the edge, we’re all back on the trail, pardners!

I'M BAAAAAAACK!