wicked, pizza, crocodiles and my mother's horrid driving

chuck, my mother and i went for dinner and a show sunday. oh, we picked up my whorey sister on the way. first to dinner, fireside pies are aaaaawesome and, you guessed it, gluten free! highfive! after listening to my mother fill the silence in the car for the twenty minute ride to get my sister, sometimes it's better to let her get out a lot of chatty before even trying to edge your way into the conversation, she decided to shock us by saying that she and my father might have to move and might not and we won't know an answer for another year.

"well, your father just said i should write a bestselling book and then we wouldn't have to even think about moving..."
"hey! that's what chuck said to me but-" i turn in the car to glare at chuck, "you didn't even read my dream! did you?!!"
he puts his hands up, "i did, i did!"
"hmmm, what's it about?"
"i- i don't really remember. i- wait! i remember thinking it had a lot of details."
"dude. what the frick does that mean? good details? bad details?"
"i meant a lot of details for a dream. it was good!"
"it's one of the two most vivid dreams i've even had."
"what was your other dream about?" my sister asks, reminding me there are other people in the car while i'm interrogating chuck.
"crocodiles, i was-"
"oo! i heard a thing about crocodiles around here! the newscaster said they were getting around because of the help of... something... i can't remember what is was..." my mother interjects because, obviously, she must muscle her way back into the conversation since it's been at least 2 minutes.
"feet?" i ask.
"yes feet, becky. no, not feet! i can't remember..." my mother says while chuckling.
"so, anywho, in that dream i was a crocodile. it was sort of a folklore story. i'm actually terrified of crocodiles. [shudder] man, they're big and teethy."

my mom is a horrid driver. like, the worst. she claims she's really great at driving but she's a really great liar because that is a lie. we were driving around down town trying to get from delicious pizza to wonderful wicked, my mom was unsure of the route but was willing to take one of her famous "long cuts." we were coming up to a stop light and she was in the far left hand lane when she did another classic move, the one where she gets out of that lane goes into another lane, jerks back into the left lane and then decides to make a right turn. it was excellent. we were alone, traveling two miles an hour during the whole thing lest you think anyone was in danger of losing anything but their sanity. she also used to peel apples for us while driving.

we get up to the next stop light and she does almost the same thing exactly again. exactly. i whipped my head around to see if we're being tailed by any sort of shady crime organization and announce to the car in general, "if you guys thought anyone could follow us tonight," *slantedaccusatoryeyes* "they are RIGHT OUT OF LUCK! nobody could follow this dare devil! i think i'll just write a blog post about this," i say as an aside to my mother while everyone laughs. "shut. up," she says while smiling.

i'm not so worried about my mother finding my blog, she would just be "disappointed" that i call my sister a whore a lot. but, meh. she would mostly find it funny. i dunno why i keep telling people i have a secret blog, it's like a undeniable compunction. i think maybe they think i'm joking. someday when i make it big, they'll be all shocked and stuff.

you'll be pleased to know, we made it to the show with no further incidents. i got in trouble at the play for saying dammit and bastard. i feel like the audience could handle my indiscretions, chuck did not. dammit, what a bastard. the show (wicked) was packed and we all really enjoyed it, despite being super hacked off at myself for forgetting my binoculars. has anyone else read the book slash seen the play and want to discuss things with me? hmmmm?

fizzle.

UPDATE: jesus! i saw WICKED!!! wick! ed! sorry...