James had a school choir concert last night. School concerts are always “Interesting” when James is performing. I can almost guarantee that the other kids will be up on the stage behaving in a fairly normal manner and my child will be spazzing out in the center re-enacting the the moves from “Thriller”.

Last night was no exception.

While James was up on stage singing, he threw himself mightily into every song. This means that he was the only child making up very elaborate and energetic choreography while the rest of the class stood still with arms down to their side.

The school crossing guard sitting in front of me turned around with a wink and said, “It’s obvious who he belongs to!”. It was meant to be a compliment, so what the hay…I accept.

When we got home, Jonathan and I broke the news to them that they were getting to go to Disneyland next month. I thought Christopher was going to stroke-out with rabid excitement. I loved it. My kids are so good and they don’t get a lot of “Extra’s”. They think getting new socks and underwear is the bee’s knees which is sweet and means they are anything but spoiled , but is just sad in a way. So, I was really excited to tell them that we were going. Christopher about fainted.

“You are the most magical momma of all time!!”

It was sweet.

Later, Jonathan and I were in the shower and I did the lame thing that I am about to cop to: I still put my hair in sudsy, shampoo “Updo’s”. I know. Lame. Jonathan never ceases to think it is funny.

“You should get a side job as ‘Belle’ why we’re at Disneyland. You have the same hair. AND you would have an employee discount which means we wouldn’t have to take out a second mortgage to buy hot dogs for lunch in “Bear Country”. Yes, I am suddenly thinking this could be a very good idea.”

“Okay. But only if you are temporarily employed for the day as a Disney mascot,too. If I’m Belle, you could be Gaston. He’s ripped.”

“Nah. Gaston is stupid, therefore disqualified from the running. I’m too manly for anything else, so it looks like you’ll have to let go of that dream.”

“You weren’t worried about being perceived as “Manly” when you participated in artsy things in high school and college.”

“Yes, but I was a “String player” NOT in Drama Club or color guard.”

“Are you saying there aren’t any unmanly violin players on the earth? Because I’m gonna have to disagree with you there.”

“No, but I didn’t play the violin. I played, “The Cello“. (Insert hushed and reverent tones) The most manly instrument in the entire orchestra.”

“What about the bass?”

[Jonathan SNORTS.]

“The bass is trying too hard and overcompensating. Bass players clearly have feelings of inadequacy in the manly arena. The cello is just simply “Manly”, while the bass is sort of a lumbering, big baffooon that is an imitation of manly. It’s SO “Of Mice and Men”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

(Jonathan gives look of extreme pity at my ignorance.)

” Obviously I am referring to the comparison between George and his brother. George is the man while his brother is big and lumbering and clearly is NOT a “Man”. Cellos are Georges. Basses just want to love you and pet you and CALL you “George”. BIG difference.”

“I’m sure Steinbeck would be proud to know his book could influence your thinking in such a way.”

“Undoubtably.”

“So…can put this little conversation on my blog?”

“I suppose.”

“Ok, is there any final little nugget of wisdom you want to pass on to my readers?”

“Boobies are awesome.”

“Alllll-RIGHTY, then.”

I think that it is a well-established fact that I have the worst luck on the freaking planet.

Bad luck, poor Karma, negative energy, just desserts, being smited by God, whatever you want to call it, I have it. There are a lot of weird and disastrous things that are in my life due to my own poor choices/life-skills/histrionic personality. That said, there are a ton of bizarre things that just happen to me. I was going to make a list, but it’s late and I’m tired. Feel free to throw out any Loralee disasters you can recall in my comments, though. Given appropriate time and distance away, they’re always good for a laugh.

Because my life-suck can be so gargantuan, I am amazed at the one area that I have killer luck in: GAMES. Of all kinds. I kick serious, serious tail at playing games. Not the emotional kind (Though I play those as well, much to my shame), but your average board or card games. I even rock at Twister and I have major back and body suck.

Sunday night is game night at Brian J’s house. We play a variety of games and it just so happens that I am really good at them all:Clue, Life, Cranium, Quiddler, Scatagories, Mexican train…You name it, I win it. Even the games I don’t really care for and whine and bitch about (Phase 10 and Hand and Foot) end up going well. I’m even brilliant at strategy games which really throws everyone as I am so chaotic and scattered. I can’t even get anyone to play Trivial Pursuit with me anymore.

Sigh.

It’s just weird. My winning-ness usually leaves everyone perplexed and scratching their heads in confusion.

In fact, the only time I ever lose perpetually is when I am playing Canasta with my family and I sit next to my sister, Linny. Linny is the Macheavelli of Canasta. Don’t play with her. Seriously. You will never be the same. I think part of it is that she looks nonthreatening with her tiny build and wire-rimmed spectacles. It’s all a clever front for one of the most diabolical card-minds on the planet.

There are two games I will.not.ever.play: Monopoly and Risk.

No, it isn’t because I lose at them. It is because I turn into a frothing, diabolical, plotting, twisting, person that makes Napoleon look like a wussy pansy. Seriously, I start to grow horns and scales and make deals with the devil to thwart everyone playing. It just turns me into an ugly person. My roommates in college didn’t believe me. Every Sunday it was “Loralee, come and play Risk with us!” I would TRY to explain, but they kept asking. I finally gave in and played one game with them. I won. I ruled the world by destroying all that was in my path. I was never invited to play again. I think that my head twisting around full circle, the red, glowing eyes and levitating might have put everyone off a bit.

There is no real point to this post except that it is yet another weird, little thing about me and it is relevant because I wiped the floor in Scategories this evening. I also perpetually wonder why some of that amazing winning-ness and good luck can’t just ooze through to real life.

It would be lovely if it would.