The Mickey Mouse House

Not too far from our apartment, there's a huge odd-shaped house. It's white with Kelly green trim and shutters with a red front door. Something about this house is just different. It's three stories high which is kinda high compared to the homes in the 'hood. Through the second floor windows-on a rare day when the blids are open-you can't help but notice the faces of Disney characters staring back at you. It's a tad creepy.

It makes you wonder ... Who lives there??? Although I've never seen a woman coming or going, I have witnessed a man that looks similar to one of the Seven Dwarves, only not as short, on the grounds. He has two PT Cruisers that never leave his green garage. One is white (it looks like some sort of special edition) and the other is maroon. I noticed the white one is wrapped in a clear plastic bag - cheap plastic, like the type your dry cleaning comes in.

A few months ago, I noticed the green blinds were open, giving me a pretty decent view inside the mysterious home. I couldn't help but laugh when I saw two 3 foot tall Mickey and Minnie Mouse figures perfectly posed near the windows. I couldn't wait to tell Drew. He's the only one who knows the house exists.

Every day, I feel the need to gawk at this house - I've passed it on my way to work every single day for four years now. I'm always looking to see if something weird is going on, or if the homeowner will be out watering the grass (he never is). I was surprised last week when some men were working on the driveway.

I thought this was kind of funny since it seems as if nobody ever drives in or out of this house. The next few mornings I made sure to glare to my right while traveling down this particular street hoping to catch a glimpse. It looked very specific and detailed. A week later, it appeared. Gone was the blacktop which happened to be in decent condition. In its place? A new dark green stone driveway with a HUGE image of a white outlined Mickey Mouse head smack dab in the center.

Last night, on our way home from dinner, I pointed it out to Andrew as we passed their house and he gasped and giggled about how unique the guy is. Drew replied, "I hope that guy's married, because he's so strange, what lady would want to date him?" I thought to myself. Disney isn't even really that cool - like at least if it were Hello Kitty, I'd probably have to dump Drew and meet this off-beat character!

Valentine's Day Horror Stories

I just sent this off to a columnist looking for funny Valentine's Day stories. This is one that happened to me...

Six years ago, I met my fiancé on an online dating Web site. After about six months, we became very close via the phone, email and text message and were preparing to meet the day after Valentine's Day -- it happened to fall on a Friday that year.

As Valentine's Day neared, he asked me for my work address. Excited, thinking he was going to order me some flowers, I quickly called my favorite mail order cookie company and sent him a huge box filled with heart-shaped cookies and other treats.

When February 14 rolled around, I watched as my coworkers' roses arrived, one after another. Anxiously I awaited for my special delivery. Would they be in a box or vase? Would they be attached to a balloon or a bear? While lost in a moment, dreaming of fragrant floral images, I was "awakened" by our company mailroom guy. No, my admirer didn't send me flowers, he sent me what felt like a book. "Hmm," I thought, maybe it's a romantic book of some sort? After I unwrapped it, my mouth dropped. It was as if someone played a cruel joke on me.

He did indeed send me a book. No it wasn't a book of love poems or anything remotely romantic... it was some goofy boyish trivia book marketed as "bathroom reading" - the front cover featured a large photo of a toilet paper roll. Inside, the inscription said something like, "You won't believe the things you'll learn from this book. I enjoyed it and now I'm passing it on to you. Happy Valentine's Day!" The next year I received a day of beauty and a dozen roses... So yeah, we're getting married in November of this year... 

Can't sleep and I'm thinking of you...

Well, "you" isn't really a person... This past Christmas, I went home to visit my family on Long Island for the weekend. My mom (and family) love Mitchell's, a coffee shop on Rockaway Avenue. Although the place has been renovated several times, all these feelings came back to me. It was so weird. I don't know why my mind went into reverie mode, but it did.

I remembered sitting there as a small child, feet dangling off the sticky booth and ordering meals off the kids menu. They had silly names. My favorite was "The Little Steer" (I think it was a burger) and there was something called the "Funky Monkey," but I don't remember what it was. My mom would tell us stories about how she would go there for a milk shake after school and how the place would be packed with school kids. When I was in high school, nobody went there unless they were with their parents and it was after our seasonal school musical or some sort of production. It wasn't the type of place where high school students of the late '80s would go to hang out. They were filling the diners on Merrick Road and Sunrise Highway because they are open later and sorta have better parking.

Sitting in the pastel pink booth, I remembered how I would walk over a mile to meet Scott there, because neither of us drove in 11th grade. I remembered how we'd go to Slipped Disc records and then hit Mitchell's for lunch. It was right across the street.

Rockaway Avenue in my hometown (Steve Buschemi grew up there and so did Ed Burns) was like the classic "Main Street, USA". We'd go to this tiny hole-in-the wall store called "Elegant Junk" which was the very first dollar type store in existence I think. They had cool, offbeat cheap tchotchkes. One could spend an hour in there just looking.

Anyone from Long Island knows, Slipped Disc was theeee record store in Nassau County. People came from all over, just like how we'd go to Hicksville to buy our hard-to-find tees and posters at Utopia. In the mid '80s, metal bands would sign albums or CDs at Slipped Disc. Kids would line up to meet them. I was never into metal, but I shopped there for my Depeche Mode VHS tapes, T-shirts and pins. I'd cover my Trapper Keeper with Smiths and Cure stickers. I thought I was so cool. I'd blow my babysitting and allowance cash in a matter of minutes there on any given weekend.

My favorite thing to order at Mitchell's was a ham and Swiss melt on whole wheat. Buttery, yet salty, oozing with cheese. It was a heart attack right off the grill, served with a free pickle which would give it just the right hint of sour. Scott and I would sit there in our Docs, baggy sweaters and DIY punky hair cuts. We'd talk for hours about our teachers, music, movies, our thoughts, our dreams for the future, college, how much we hated our town and couldn't wait to leave, you know, the typical high school weirdo convo.

The saddest memory I have of Mitchell's is my first weekend after a devastating break up with my college boyfriend. It was my first weekend without him and my parents were still together then. They usually went to Mitchell's on Saturday for dinner or just coffee and ice cream. They invited me, because it was early and my plans weren't until later that evening... It was months before cell phones were as popular and easy to get, March, 1997. I wanted to go to the pay phone and call him so badly. I even got up and walked to the bathroom where the phone was. I think I even dropped 50 cents (he lived in NYC) and let it ring once, then hung up... It's a bit fuzzy now.

I remember sitting in the same pastel pink booth, in a haze. Thinking about how easy life was in high school with Scott and our syrupy sodas and grilled cheese sandwiches. I was out of college now and not sure what direction I was headed, though I had a great job that paid very little...

So fast-forward to December, 2006, back at Mitchell's. Still not sure what direction my life is headed. My parents have been split up for a long time now. My brother, who once sat next to me in that booth spilling his ice cream cone all over the place, is months away from become a father. Scott is months away from becoming someone's husband. I still wear the same style sweaters and Docs and although things have changed so very much, Mitchell's will always be there back home waiting for me...