Random Tuesday - Drivers Style

• Every time I park in a large parking lot (10 or more spaces), I lose my car. I never remember where I park it. Even if I make a point to remember, I will forget. I am that person standing outside the mall with a clueless look on my face.
• You know those young guys who wear their pants around their thighs and have their boxers showing above their belts? Do you ever have the urge to run over and hike their pants up? There was a guy in front of me in line the other day and I had to put my hands in my pockets to restrain myself. Don't they know how stupid they look?
• I cannot parallel park a car. I just can't. If I try, I usually manage to get the front in okay, but the ass end of the car always sticks out in the road. I've been known to drive around the block 10 times or more until two contiguous spots open up and I can slide right in. Big K has offered to teach me on more than one occasion and I always get frustrated.
• The other day in kickboxing class, the instructor, (much to my disdain) decided to use the last 5 minutes of class to promote his new Hip Hop Dance Fit class. He was making us (begrudgingly) shimmy and shake our upper bodies while yelling "Shake 'em, girls". I hate to dance on command so I yelled back "I don't have anything to shake." In typical smart ass fashion he yelled back "Then shake your nipples."
• I am 32 years old. I know that I should be reading Vanity Fair, Vogue, Marie Claire and Cosmo. Instead I read Martha Stuart Living, Better Homes and Gardens, Fine Cooking, and Good Housekeeping. I have the mind of a 60 year old woman.
• While driving, if you allow someone to go in front of you and they don't give the "thank you" wave you should be allowed to punt them with your car.
  
• You know that lunatic woman who is standing in the greeting card aisle reading all the cards and laughing her ass off. Yup, that's me.
  
• I can never fit anything large in the trunk of my car because I am convinced that I will be the victim of a roadside disaster and I need to take precautions. That is why I am prepared with a gallon jug of water, a mini tool kit, a contractor size garbage bag, jumper cables, two tie down ratchet straps, a package of zip ties, my reusable shopping bags, a first aid kit, a small roll of twine, and two different sized windshield snow scrapers. You know, just in case.
  
• When I drive, I'm in my own little world. (sometimes Vin Diesel is there with me) People often get mad at me because I drive passed them and don't wave. It's not because I was being rude. I literally did not see them...even if they're in the lane next to me. I drive with my head firmly up my ass.

Ornery or Horny - Which One Is Me?

On Thursday, during a heated conversation, Partner #1 had the urge to call me "ornery". Granted, I had been a bit testy in the morning due to my sudden withdrawal of all things lard and sugar before I slammed down a BLT for lunch and re-coated my stomach with fat. But, ornery? My surprised pout prompted him to remove the insult from the table and replace it with "feisty". But the barb sank in deep as I raced to my office to Google up the right definition. I may not have two fancy, schmacy degrees from the University of Holier Than Thou and the College of I'm Always Right, but I can Google up information like a motherfucker.

Ornery: having an irritable disposition - CANTANKEROUS.

Moi....Irritable? Me....cantankerous? I don't think so. So I may have a slight headache from a weekend diet of fat, sugar, fat, cream, fat, grease, and cheese. So, I might have thrown up halfway thru my kickboxing class on Wednesday night. And I might, just might, be totally twisted up in knots after a conversation with Partner #3 in which he was his cruel, nasty self. (I plan on talking to him about this particular incident today. He hit below the belt this time). Life as the Devils' bitch is not always peaches and creme.

But, lets return to Partner #1 for a minute. HE described ME irritable. Let's just turn the mirror around and give him a quick look at his reflection. While he can be a very sweet guy (not including the Lady in Black incident, which still bothers me), he is the most moody person in the office. (I don't include Partner #3 in the pool. Satan doesn't have moods, he's just pure evil.) Due to the volatile nature our office, I understand there can be a little crankiness now and then. I get a little testy sometimes. The economy blows and we're all stressed. But, Partner #1 is the most cantankerous of them all. I have to constantly take his temperature. But, he's a clever one....a real poker face. He has this serene look on his face even when he's feeling evil. But, I have figured out his tell. The Vein. He's got this vein on the side of his head that pulses when he's in his moody state. If you walk in his office and that vein is throbbing, head for the nearest exit. Whatever news you have, whatever answers you seek will have to wait. Office PMS has struck. Further conversations will get you nowhere. And while he doesn't make me want to burst into tears (Partner #3 has the handle on that), he can be rather frustrating and a little bit mean when he's fallen into these moods. It's almost like I'm working with a bunch of broads again.

Maybe I was a bit feisty, maybe a tad irritable but I have reason. Not only am I going thru sugar and lard withdrawal, I think I'm going thru sex withdrawal, too. Ya'll know how testy I get when I'm horny. It's been a week.....yes....a week. With travel, bad food and lack of sleep I haven't even had time to enjoy myself. I have a vibrator in my purse and I have yet to use it. What is wrong with this picture and how to I explain that to my boss?

Being Thankful for Life & Luck

Big K and I were watching "Criminal Minds" last night and the show started with a scene where people were trapped in a movie theatre by a fire. All of the people died. It is during those times when I think back to the night of February 20, 2003 when The Station Nightclub fire happened in West Warwick, RI. Over 100 people died and over 100 more were severely injure when the sparks from the concert pyrotechnics lit the ceiling on fire. The club was burnt to the ground and lives were changed forever.

My life was changed forever too. TH and I were suppose to be there that night.

To this day, I cannot remember why we decided not to go. Maybe we were tired, maybe we got off work too late and wouldn't have made it in time. In any case, we stayed home that night. In the morning, I remember hearing something about a huge fire on the radio as I drove into work, but it didn't register that it was the concert I had planned on attending. Even as I logged onto the internet to read the newspaper, I still wasn't connecting this huge tragedy to my aforementioned plans. I wasn't until I saw "the Great White concert" that I felt the blood drain from my face and my fingers were dialing TH's cell number. I didn't even say hello, just "Oh My God, did you hear what happened". Then, there was just silence.

While we were in Tennessee this past weekend, we drove by a club that was featuring "Great White" in concert. Yes, they are still touring after all this. I looked at TH as we passed by and he look back and said, "I don't think I could ever go to one of their concerts again". I didn't have anything to say in return. I had no words.

I wouldn't call this a "near death experience", because it wasn't. But, it is something that just hangs with me. It seeps up when I hear about people dying in fires or being horribly burned. It scares me that I could have been that person. I hope whatever kept us from going to that concert stays around us for years to come and it makes me mad that it didn't help those who died that night.

Is wrong that an experience like this has opened my eyes to just how lucky I am and that I really have a great life? I'm healthy (or soon will be after all that weekend lard exits my system), I have a beautiful home and a husband I love more and more every day. I have great friends like Josh (aka Chester) who have been with me since childhood. I have a family that makes me crazy, but I love them still. And I have a great (chocking sound) job with guys who care about me when it matters. (and when it is convenient for them).

Every day, no matter how busy I am, I try to take one moment and just live. Life is unbelievably precious.

Random Tuesday - Southern Style

Due to my recent vacation down to Tennessee, I thought I would hit you all up, Southern style

• The finally tally on my weekend binge eating was 13 Corndogs, 10 Krispy Kreme donuts and 5-6 tons of barbecue type food. I have started to detox already. I have only gained 3 pounds after stuffing my pie hole for four days but I feel disgusting. I also have a splitting headache from sugar withdrawal. I can't believe I did that to myself.
• I noticed that you have to specifically ask for "unsweetened" ice tea in the South. If you don't, you get "Sweet Tea". It is the most vile, nasty, sugary stuff in the world. TH loves it. He drank at least 5-6 gallons of it while we were there and thus, he peed every 12 minutes. We don't have Sweet Tea up north. Thank God. That stuff is gross.
• I stick out like a sore thumb in the South. Every girl down there looks like she has been attacked by the make up ladies at Bloomingdale's. I don't wear lots of make up; maybe a little bronzer, mascara and blush. And I certainly didn't get all gussied up to go to a race track. These girls are made up like beauty pageant contestants. They definitely abide by the rule of "putting your face on before you leave the house."
• You also need to have a fake tan in the South. Everyone is bronze. There is a tanning center at every corner. My pasty, winter white, Irish skin introduced me as a Northerner before I even opened my Yankee mouth. Of course, the results of the fake baking was clear as day on the older generations. Half of the women had skin like a lizard handbag.
• And finally, you must have big hair in the South. The bigger the better. I stepped into the ladies room at one restaurant and was overcome by the hairspray these women were using. If the hairs not big, it's sprayed, gelled or shellacked up into some God awful creation. These women must have spent hours getting ready. All I did was shower, throw my hair in a baseball cap and hit the road.
• Every single food franchise is represented on Route 11E in Johnson City, TN. I've never seen so many fast food places in my life.
• There seems to be a contest amongst everyone to see how much stuff you can fit on your front porch. It was not uncommon for people to have 2-3 appliances, a couple of couches and even a bathtub on their front porch.
• Beer is sold at convenience stores. Liquor and wine are sold at "liquor stores". This confuses the hell outta me. I went to a gas station/convenience store that has a "Beer Cave". There is another convenience store that you can pull up to a drive thru window and order a keg, a bucket of chicken and other assorted items. They'll just pass them thru and you never have to leave your car.
• There are no gyms or fitness centers. I couldn't find one. It seems that being healthy is not a priority. Alcohol, lard and nicotine are first and foremost. Everyone smokes. Yet, every facility is non-smoking. You have to walk thru a smoke screen to get in a restaurant.
• Southern men are just gorgeous.....the ones that are in shape from some manual labor or just blessed with good genes. They all drive huge pickups and wear jeans and work boots. I spent a majority of the weekend with very damp panties. I love me a good Roughneck

Unbuttoning the Top Button - Bristol Trip Day 3

**If any of you have sent me an email in the past few days and I haven't responded, please resend it. My email shit the bed with 25 new emails in the hopper that I lost. So that's the reason I've been ignoring you!**

The second night in the Hotel of Horror passed by without any creepy crawly things or diseases. I plan to burn all of my clothes when I get home. TH has turned up the A/C to a balmy 58 degrees. I'm freezing, but I think it might be keeping the germs at bay. We are in a nonsmoking room but not a nonsmoking floor. The couple in the room next to us likes to light up a carton or two at 3:00 am every morning. Our room smells like an ashtray. I just figured out that our window opens, but there's no screen. I have it cracked open about a foot. I need fresh air so badly that I'm taking my chances on a huge bat or bird flying in our room. I also have an excellent view of the "Crowbar" and its a happenin' place tonight.

Today was the official day for the Sprint Cup Series race. I started it out in style.

5 more Krispy Kremes. I made TH stop at 3 gas stations before I found some. They were a hot item for Race Day and most places were sold out. Because I didn't think I had enough cholesterol and fat, I added a McGriddle breakfast sandwich from McDonalds. I felt disgusting after I ate that. I don't know why I do that to myself. I know McDonalds makes me feel sick. I just love the idea of it.

The ride from the hotel to the track is always an interesting one. There is beautiful farmland and lots of broken down houses and barns. Every now and then you'll see something like this:

See that gigantic mansion in the background. It looks like it belongs in California or something. This particular one is right near the racetrack. Look at all the campers and tents over to the side. These people are renting out their land for race fans to camp on!!

The race didn't start until 1:30 pm so we walked around for awhile. The atmosphere is carnival like and there are booths and trailers all over the place with tons of "fan experiences". We made our way over to the Speed Channel stage where they were live on the air with the pre-race reports and commentary. I made another new friend in the crowd:

He was a pimp. I loved his shoes. Apparently, you can buy manheels on Ebay.

But, on to more important things. Corn dogs. This makes 13 total in 3 days.

I had to unbutton the top button of my jeans after these.

The race began with crazy parachuting guys landing on the racetrack.

The Star Spangled Banner sung by some country star I've never hear of and a gigantic flag.

And we were finally off. 500 miles of chaos!!!!

A pit stop or two!

And the winner was Kyle Busch (aka the biggest asshole in NASCAR)

After spending two and a half hours in traffic (and that's not that long) and a nasty dinner at the Olive Garden (all the good restaurants in the area are closed on Sunday or have gone out of business) we are back at the Hot Zone (aka our hotel room).

Our flights leaves at 2:30 pm tomorrow. We can't wait to get home.

9 Corndogs and Counting - Bristol Trip Day 2

We survived the night in the Un-Super 8, (aka the hotel that is so gross I wear my flip flops every where). Surprisingly, the bed is unbelievably comfortable. I would be afraid to run a CSI black light over it but we slept soundly for 8 hours. I'm pretty sure we've haven't contracted any diseases. TH says that's what we have antibodies for. Ewwww!!! If you were wondering why we haven't checked into a non-slimy hotel, I'll tell ya why. There isn't anything available for miles. During race weekend, the hotels book up like crazy. We couldn't find anything if we wanted to. So, we might be wearing HazMat suits tonight.

My day started in the best possible way:

Bag of Krispy Kreme Donuts

We don't have these objects of desire up North. I ate 5 of them: 3 glazed, 2 cream cheese filled. You can almost hear me getting fatter.

I love this building. It makes me want a hot dog and fries ever time we see it. I was on my second donut when we passed by. I still wanted a hot dog.

Practice at the track. Yeah, baby!!!

Well, looky here...corn dogs. The five donuts were a distant memory. (It had only been 1 1/2 hours)

TH spotted this excellent looking hair do. I really have no words for this.

More corn dogs. Now, I have eaten a total of nine in two days.

Race Geek! Here I am. I'm wearing my scanner headset (so I can hear the driver's radio), I'm freezing my fucking ass off and of course, eating a corn dog.

The kick ass view from our seats. Second from the top, baby!!! The Nationwide race has just started.

Every sport has one of these guys. He was running around getting random people to put beer in his huge funnel. It was around 5 pm by this time. 3/4 of the race fans are hammered at this hour and a few are passed out on the stands.
Classic fan. Just check out that gut! I don't think drinking Bud Light is gonna help you out there buddy. Where's Jenny Craig!!



During one of the feature races, I spent a great deal of time checking out this hot cop and the enormous bulge in the front of his pants! Just look at it!!!!! Even I don't get that excited at the races.

Night time view of the track from the road as we were leaving.

So, the big race day is tomorrow. I will try to calm myself with the donuts and corn dogs. Have you noticed that I'm obsessed with a food that looks like a huge penis and a glazed dessert that has a hole in it? I'm naughty even when I'm eating!

Pole Day - Bristol Trip Day 1

Pole had nothing to do with stripping, even though I did see a strip bar down the street from our hotel. Pole Day is the day that each of the teams qualify for race day. This is the day for die hard fans.

Of course, our day didn't start at the pole. It started at fucking 4 AM. Did you know that is fucking early!!! We had an 8 AM flight out of Boston. We live an hour and a half outside of Boston, you have to be there 1/2 before your flight, you do the math. Anyway, it's fucking early. I don't do mornings. I was a mess until I had a coffee.

On our first flight (we layed over in Charolotte, NC), I was smooshed between TH (whose shoulders are around 4 feet wide) and this little stock broker guy. The stock broker guy sat there and snapped his gum for 2 whole hours. I was ready to kill him. He was reading these reports that looked like they had some juicy info on them and had "confidential" stamped all over them. I kept trying to get a peek, but glancing to the side was making me queasy.

Upon our arrive in the Charlotte Airport, I made a beeline for the Cinnabon stand. This is my annual breakfast in Charlotte.

I inhaled this in less than five minutes. Mmmmmmmmmmmm!!!

While we were waiting for our flight to Tennessee we discovered this fellow.

I was worried that he was dead, but he rolled over soon after I took this picture. You couldn't pay me to lay on an airport floor.

Before I made a quick trip to the ladies room, I asked TH to tend my bag. I'm carting around my laptop and didn't want anyone to take off with it. He looked at me and said, "I'll let you tend My bag". Even in an airport, after 2 hours of sleep, my husband still thinks with his crotch.

We finally arrived and were off to the track.

Yeah, Baby!!!!

Of course, I was hungry again.

Foot long corndog!!! I ate two.

I also made some friends

Yes, lovers. There I am. I am out of the closet. Of course, I am sticking my tongue out and making rock horns. Not the most flattering and you don't really get an idea of what I look like. Thus, the perfect photo. These guys were from Ohio. We became fast friends after they woke me up from a very nice cat nap I was taking in between events. After that, there was plenty of fist bumping and Yee Hawing. They were even showing me pictures of their kids towards the end. Strangers just love me. We're gonna try and find them tomorrow. They were fun even though they were Tony Stewert fans. Where else in the world can you go and see a shopping cart with a drag car motor. They will actually run this around the track....slowly.And here is our ride back to our car in the parking lot. Nothing like a bus with a giant jug of milk on it.

Due to our last minute decision to go on this trip, we were stuck lodging at a Super 8. Yuck! It's fair from super. It's actually gross. I'm also a hotel snob. I prefer the Hilton Gardens and Holiday Inns. There is one across the highway at us. I stare longingly at it thru the window. That's if I can stop staring at this.



Our hotel is next to a biker bar called the Crowbar. It just doesn't get better than that.

More to come tomorrow. I need to get to bed and sleep off my corndog hang over.