Kal-e-forn-ya

DAY ONE

Those of you who know me, know how organized and structured I like things to be. Although I like to convince myself that I'm somewhat spontaneous, a trip across the country for a limited amount of time cannot be left up to chance. So, it will come to no surprise to you readers that not only did I have a commercial realtor helping me find space for the daycare, but I also had a property realtor who was to help me find a rental space to live in. Well, in order to bring you to last weeks shananagins in LA, I have to go back to the week before at the beach house, which would be one week before I was to leave for LA. This is when I got the devastating email from my property realtor that said she was not going to work with me. And it didn't really have anything to do with something that I did, but something that someone said at my commercial Realtors location. Apparently this guy, who the property lady had actually recommended that I use, got this giant bug up his ass when I told him that I had found another guy IN HIS OFFICE NO LESS that I was starting to use. Normally I don't have a problem with the two heads are better than one scenario, but since they were working in the same office, for essentially the same company, I wanted to be open and honest about my current position. Well, this did not sit well with him and not only did he lecture me, but he went on to lecture my property realtor about pure nonsense. And not that blame her, but she then, instead of dealing with the monster head on, ran in the opposite direction. It was absolutely absurd. So, there I was a week before my trip, with the main objective to find a place to live, and no one to show me around. I'm not normally an ass kisser either, but I pulled out some of my best material to get this lady back. After a few emails back and forth and a few short conversations on the phone, we were back in business. I just had to keep my worlds separate, which I had no problem doing in the first place.

The main thing I learned upon my initial research into moving to California is that the places you look at and might be interested in one day, are probably not going to be around the next. So, in order to start looking, you should only plan your strategy the week of your search. Unfortunately this meant looking on Craigslist, and the local Long Beach paper, every day and contacting those places that I wanted to look at immediately to set up appointments for Thursday. Meanwhile, ole Christy (property realtor) ran a report of houses that were open in the area and only told me the day before I was leaving that I needed to call all of the houses that I wanted to look at and set up appointments with them between noon and two, because that's when she scheduled the time with me. It was at this exact moment when I started to wonder why in the world this woman was doing anything for me, or what exactly she was doing. So, armed with a three page report, I began my calling. In my fruitless efforts I only set up two meetings of the five houses I wanted to look at. Christy had said she would handle the rest, but to meet her at her work at noon that day. Okay, no problem. On my own, I had managed to track down five other places I wanted to see as well so it was going to be jammed packed day. Not to mention that I HAD to be out of the area by 4 pm at the latest or I was going to sit on the 405 for the rest of the night trying to get to my brothers place. So, Craig and I were up and at 'em around 9 am Thursday morning. Since he's live in California his entire life, he was extremely helpful with this day. He suggested that not only do we look at places that I've printed out, but it's also a good idea to drive up and down each of the streets to see if there were other places that we might be able to take a look at. For this trip, he was the brains of the operation. But our mission was dual purposed. You see, his property got transferred so he was moving to the area as well. Coincidence? You can decide for yourself. Well, we began our journey and were designated to each side of the street to look for signs. Up and down, up and down, up and down we went. From the ocean to Boardwalk and back again. Stopping every now and then to get out of the car and call a sign. We walked into places, looked around for a second and walked out. His heart was just not in it. We went to my first set appointment in a place that from the outside had great potential. The building was right on the water, there was secured parking underneath, and the grocery store was right next door. It was all looking wonderful until the guy showing us the place took us to the wrong side of the building. My view was of the grocery store and the local bums that were hanging out. Craig was not a fan of me living here and thought that I would be the one protecting Scout and not the other way around. So, out we went and headed to meet Christy. At this point I wasn't feeling defeated, only excited about what she might have in store for us. So we sit down, go over our game plan and out we go. The first place was AMAZINGLY BEAUTIFUL. We walk into a huge open area with a sun room off to the side. A faux fireplace and Oh My Goodness what is this?!?!?!? A HUGE WALK-IN CLOSET!!!! This is unheard of in California! I felt similar to the way that I've been feeling at the car dealership's lately. Showing me the upscale version of the car before you tear me down to what I can actually afford. Only, I can afford this, but the sign out front says, ABSOLUTELY NO PETS. There are a few things I know in life, but absolutes are pretty clearly defined. Christy was a little thrown back, but Craig and I look at each other in that all knowing way and know this place might be too good to be true. So, Christy tells me that she's going to call the owner on the way to the next location and see if there is something we can work out. Sounds like my kind of plan. Second place, a little ways down the road, but on a main street. Now, I picked this from the pictures so I can't totally blame her here, but this will be the first, of many times I utter the words WTF and not shortened. We walk into signs that read STEP UP and STEP DOWN. Immediately I'm thinking, no. I mean, you walk in the front door and go left to "STEP DOWN" into a bedroom? or office? or law practice? Then "STEP UP" to the remainder of the house. Yeah, let's just move on, and so we did. The next house was set up by yours truly and I was REALLY excited about seeing it. It was so cute from the pictures, even cuter from the outside and when I walked in I thought, YES! This is it. I walked into the mecca of all kitchens and knew this was the one I would put an offer down on. But then good ole Christy says, "so you're okay with her dog here?" To which the lady replied, "oh no, we aren't allowing pets in here at all". WTF!!! So, for those of you keeping track at home, of the 5 places I picked to look at, and the 3 we've looked at so far, the two I like don't allow dogs. The FIRST requirement I ever gave this lady and she couldn't get this straight. I can only imagine what else she has in store. With my head held low we leave my dream house and follow her to our final destination of the day. With a quick, random, stop at Carl's Jr, where Craig and I are convinced she dropped a deuce because she never came out with a burger or a drink or anything, but was gone for a awfully long time. We literally drive for another 30 minutes to go look at this last house. Yet another one of my requirements was to stay in a particular area in which we are no where near. Now, I'm pissed, frustrated, and starving. Craig tells me to just tell her we're leaving and not interested in even looking in, but contrary to some people's opinion of me, I am a nice person, so I look inside. I know by walking in the front door I don't like this place. It gives off this creepy vibe and terrible old person smell. But, against everything telling me not too, I take a look in the backyard. Should have listened to my instinct. I know LA is a movie town, but this backyard should be in a scary movie. In the daytime I turned back around and headed back when I saw not one, but two rusting old ambulances. Really?!?!? Two? This is just weird. So, I head back inside, tell Christy it's definitely time to go when OUT OF NO WHERE the creepy lady who owns the place sneaks up on us. I seriously thought she came out of the wall, I never heard her come in. I backed out of the place and made a run for it to the car where Craig was waiting. He never even got out. Ohhhh Clyde to my Bonnie, you gotta love the person driving the getaway car. So, completely deflated, we head back 30 min to grab a quick bite before we see the final two houses that I set up appointments for. Those two were seriously anti-climatic so I'll move right to what you're waiting for anyway...

Sooooooooooooooooo, after about an hour and a half drive which should only take 45 min on a normal day, I pull up to my brothers house. Where I am greeted by my brother and his room mate holding a rope, containing a goat! Yes, that's right, I have the privilege and honor to meet Nibbler. And it was just how you all would think. Only, I've got to say, this goat is probably one of the cutest things I've ever seen. But, all it does is Bahhhhh. I see my nephew, Budah in the distance, just sitting in the driveway, looking miserable. Wondering when someone is going to come and save him from his misery. I felt this poor puppies pain. I walk in the front door only to see a pile of hay in the middle of the floor. Two things come to mind when you see hay on some one's floor? Am I staying in a barn, I sure hope they have enough blankets, and WTF! I mean, really? Hay? On the floor? I guess you have a goat and it prevents them from eating, say your couch, but keep the damn thing outside. Oh, that's right, you can't, because I'm fairly certain it's illegal to have a goat in LA. So, we walk into Phillip's bedroom where I have to get back onto the computer to extend my housing search. As I'm sitting at the desk, Nibbler jets into the room, grabs the first wad of paper that she sees and jets right back at. By the seconds that it takes my brother to get out of his bed and chase the goat to see what she's eaten, it's already gone and all she's doing is Bahhing at him. I know how irritating it is to him, but all I can do is laugh. It's just one of those sounds that you don't hear every day and it really sounds like she's talking back at him. It's hilarious. I'm really mad at myself for not taking a video of it. But, because she blew it, we now have to close the door at all times. So, we go out, go to his show and come home. I have to blow past that part because I MUST get back to the goat and when we roll into the house at 1:30 in the morning. Just like a barking dog, we are greeted with a "friendly" bahhhhhhhhhh. Oh, and before I forget, it's not your normal run of the mill bahhh, no this one is with her head cocked and she's looking at you out of the corner of her eyes type of thing. It's almost evil. So, we head back to the bedroom armed with our food. She continues to bahhh and I have to head out to the kitchen to put my drink back. Brother's last words, careful where you step. Noted, but that's not what made me laugh. What made me laugh was that as I'm making my way into the kitchen, the bahhhh makes me look to find the goat, on top of the mantle. It was unreal. It was like she was trying to climb that mountain and just couldn't make it, so she settled for the mantle. Classic!!! An almost 30 year old man, who lives with a goat that climbs mantles. Needless to say, my brother and I had a sleep over, something we haven't done since we were kids, all because he didn't want to sleep with the goat. SO AMAZING!!!

And that was just day one....

127 days...and counting

Okay, okay, I get it. It's been a while since I've written anything on here, but you have to believe me when I say this, I have been beyond busy these days. And to take the free time I do have and involve things like sitting down in front of a computer and nailing out a blog and not get bored would be next to impossible. So, I'm going to do my best to update you as to what I've been doing these past days to bring you into my world, just a little bit. Allow me to start two weeks ago when my dad and I headed down to the beach house for what I thought would be a mildly relaxing trip before heading to California for my real stressful adventure. Our objective was to paint the inside of the house, power wash the outside, replace what needed replacing and call in the repair team to do the rest. So, loaded up with supplies and the puppy we started our journey. A few things to note. 1. I HATE driving during road trips unless my passenger is staying awake and keeping me company. My dad had a conference call for about an hour of the trip so I was forced to stay silent and focus all my energies on the road. I couldn't even play travel games. Lame. 2. I have the bladder of a peanut. I usually know my boundaries and try to steer clear of liquids to limit stops in trips. However, this particular day I was really thirsty and didn't think that the affects of the water would take charge so quickly. BOY was I wrong. Thankfully the call was over and it was nearing lunch time so a stop was in need anyway. I just didn't think I would have to pee so badly. It was like that pee urge you get after you've been drinking and you're convinced that in a moments notice you are literally going to pee your pants. Only, I was sober, and driving. I would have probably felt better had I been drunk. So, with Burger King in hand, pee out of system, a quick water break for Scout, we're on our way once again. The rest of the road trip was pretty uneventful so I'll get right to it. Cue the next morning when I was told to wake up "before 10 am, please so that you can start painting". A little known fact, when you don't have to actually get up at a certain time to do something, you usually don't. However, "sleep" wasn't really in Scout's vocabulary the whole night before. She does this really weird thing where when she is in a new place, it takes her about a day to acclimate to the new surroundings. Which usually means that she is up most of the night whining at the door, leading me to believe that she has to go out because she hasn't actually gone to the bathroom the entire time she's been there. So, I have to then get out of bed and walk her around outside for a little while to find a spot she might feel comfortable "going potty" in. This, of course, doesn't happen until the next afternoon. But, just like most everything I do in my life, it's insane and I keep thinking that one time she's going to snap out it and just be a real dog. I guess we work well together that way. So, with very little sleep, I'm up and about by 8:30 and painting by 9:30. I'm telling you guys, if this whole dog daycare thing doesn't work out for me, I think I have future in painting the interior of houses. I start upstairs and with my music blasting, get through that in no time at all. As I'm folding up my paint tarp, I hear the pitter patter of my dad's little feet up and down the stairs. This, of course, is sarcasm. All I hear is stomping all around and a sailor that has moved into my dad's body and spitting out cuss words like he owns them. I honestly have no idea what's going on, and knowing my dad is knowing to stay at least 600 yards away from that nightmare. Especially if he's screaming and cursing. Ever so gently, I make my way down to the second level. Set up my supplies when I hear him on my floor. Not knowing how much longer I can live with the suspense, I ask him what the problem is. Apparently, when you have a house at the beach, one does not require that much water pressure. Let alone enough to power wash a gigantic house. He literally tried every single spigot and all of them were just dribbling out water. Two of them didn't even work. He even went as far as jerry rigging a hose from down stairs and moving it up. Honestly, the guy had one job to do and for the past hour he's been mumbling around the house trying to figure out what to do. Meanwhile, Scout's been following him around like a...well, like a puppy dog. Barking when he's not around and just trying to find him when he's outside. I find it cute. Grumpy Gus finds it annoying. After another 30 minutes of him trying to figure out how to make it work and I'm already almost done painting the entire area that needs it. Then, with just a little more left to go, I run out of paint. I've gotta say, for two hours work, I've done pretty well. And since dad's really done nothing, it's time for a break and load into the family truckster to head 20 minutes up the road to the closest Home Depot. Yes, we live that far removed from any sort of city.

You know what? This is crazy!!! This isn't even that interesting and I've spent that last three hours trying to get something out while doing four other things. My California trip was way more exciting. I'll post about that one next.

Happy Anniversary

Alright, I know that I didn't post a blog all last week, and when you hear the story of why you might take back all those mean and frustrating thoughts you had with me in regards to not supplying you with ample daytime entertainment. So, it was a week ago today. It was a day, just like every other day, or so I thought. I got up, got to go run errands. Found the black flats I've been looking for for months, which were on sale. And since it was such a nice day, decided to head home to take the little one out for a run. It was our running week after all and since the weather has been taking it's sweet time to turn warm, we have to take advantage of every opportunity of warm weather we get. So, I strapped Scout into her harness, loaded up my Pandora and Cardio Trainer and headed out into the beautiful day. Ran our first .1 of a mile down our street. Headed another 499 ft down our main big hill. I've mentioned this beast before during the winter. Turned left and headed the next .2 miles towards the main road. It was about another .2 miles into our .6 mile stretch onto the path where I noticed a man with a wheelbarrow. The first and most important thing that I noticed was that he was coming towards us, but that he was slowly making his way into a hidden driveway. Since we already had cars on our right, the spacing issue was a little tight, but I honestly thought nothing of it. We continued our run and the man was no where in site. Or so I thought. Now, for those of you who have not met Scout, or haven't seen her since she was a wee lass, let me tell you a few things about her that are important to this story before I continue. 1. She is 60 pounds of pure muscle. 2. She's about as fast as lightening and will pull you forever. and most importantly 3. She gets spooked WAY too easily. The reason I explain these particular traits in her is because at this short distance into our run, we were easily going about an 8:30 mile. Which is pretty fast. Apparently, with earphones in, you cannot hear the creepy wheelbarrow man who was in the clearing right above the hill. Scout has absolutely no idea what's going on there, I have no idea what's going on because I'm in the "zone" she literally stops right in front of me, I, in what I can only imagine is pure cartoon fashion, fly over and on her at an alarming rate. On the main road, I am lying flat down on my front side in absolute, pure panic. I have no idea if I just broke my dog or myself. And I don't know if I want to get up because I can only imagine if someone actually saw me do this. Of course I am explaining this in a lighter tone than I felt last week because it took me a week to look back and be able to laugh about it. As I slowly get up, I check to see that Scout is eager and ready to continue our run, while I look down at my hands to notice Alexandria CSI. It looks as if I've murdered someone with the amount of blood that is just gushing out of my body. The worst part is, I know that it's coming out of my left wrist, but because I am in such shock, I have no idea where else it's streaming from. In what I can only imagine is one of the nicest people on the planet, pulls her car around to ask me if I was okay because she saw the whole thing. Holding back buckets of tears I really don't know, but tell her that I only live around the corner so I'll be okay, but thank you. What I should have said was, could you please drive me and my dog up the street because I'm not sure I'm going to make it. In what turned out to be the coldest and longest 5 minute walk of my life I'm still trying to figure out what hurts. I literally cannot stop bleeding from my left wrist and I'm pretty sure that something is broken because I cannot, for the life of me feel my fingers. It could just be because it's cold, but I've never felt anything like this. I finally make it in the door and don't know what to do. I feel like I've regressed back to the age of 7 and only want my mommy to take care of me. Luckily, she was home. We immediately got the peroxide and went to work. I don't think beer has as much foam on the top of it as my hand did. The worst part was, I couldn't feel it and it freaked me out. It wasn't until the second pour when I felt the stinging sensation down to my core. No matter where you were in the world, I have a sneaking suspicion that you heard me scream last Monday. That little effer hurt. So, as we were cleaning up my hands, I felt this terrible pain in my knees and shoulders. Upon inspection, we find out, yup, I got those too. The crazy part is, they were opposite knee and shoulder. Now I really want to know what this fall looked like! Well, as my body started to warm up from the frigidness of outside, the onset of other pain started to set in. I sat down at my computer to do some work on an event I was handling the next day and noticed that I couldn't set my left hand down without pain coursing through my body. I couldn't tell if there was swelling, but I knew that something was definitely wrong. I couldn't touch it and I definitely couldn't move it. I kept thinking, oh no, I've gone 33 years of my life without breaking one bone and now I've gone and broken my wrist falling over my dog. This has to be a joke. But no, the pain just kept getting worse as the day progressed. Upon taking a shower, there was no way I could wash the entire right side of my body because my wrist was just not working. And forget about washing my hair, that part was just not happening. I thought I was actually going to shed tears when I went to put my bra on. If you boys think you have it rough when you can actually see the darn thing, try having your left wrist out of commission and figuring out a way of getting it behind your back without twisting it. I say impossible! Well, out of pure fear, I decide to not go to the doctor yet. Although at the very least I probably should have iced the poor thing down, I wait it out. I knew I had another doctors appointment today and if it wasn't better by today, no use wasted a co-pay, right...(nervous laughter) Well, might put not icing my wrist down as one of the dumbest things I could have not done, because I never slept that night and coincidentally, neither did Scout. Apparently in our fall, I landed on her so hard that she has an abrasion on her left "arm" where the hair has actually ripped out of it and left it bald. She was in so much discomfort that she was up all night licking her wounds. We were a tough pair, that's for sure. So, after a night of no sleep for both of us, I get out of bed the next day, to head into a two day bender of an event. I have no idea how much use I'll be with one arm, but I had to suck it up. With a quick stop by CVS for a wrist splint, I try to get as much help as I can with this thing. Instantly I feel better because this little loosy goosy thing isn't moving all over the place. I still don't have full function of all my fingers, but that's besides the point. I'll take baby steps any chance I can get. That night was another restless one without much sleep, but the next day I tried the little ice trick and it changed my life. Although it was the coldest thing I've ever felt for 20 minutes it did all the good in the world to make myself feel better. So now, a week later, the band aids have finally come off, but the scars are terrible. The wrist splint is no more and I'm finally bruising. Oh, and now I can type, so there's that. We're going to give it another go this afternoon and try running with Scout. I feel like there is no possible way lightening could strike twice, but with my track record, one will never know. Wish me luck!!!

The Intimidator

Do you know the best words that a women in business can hear? Man, you're a bitch! Or, do you know how badly you intimidate people? The answer to both statements/questions is yes. When it comes to business, I do actually know how much of a bad ass I am. If I could transfer that to my personal life, I would honestly be unstoppable. I have worked hard at absolutely everything I have ever done my entire life. On top of that, I've learned, that as a woman, you have to create a presence about you, or you get lost in the shuffle. You have to almost command attention. I've worked with nothing but men my entire adult career life and have had to swim with the big dogs and come out on top. Half of that career was spent managing guys which makes it tougher. So, when my father sits me down to explain the intricacies of a meeting we're going into, and then proceeds to tell me that one of the people we're meeting with, who just happens to be a very good friend of his, tells him how intimidating I can be, the only thing I can do is smile. I've met this guy one time, over lunch, that was with my dad, who was cracking jokes the whole time. And the one thing this guy took from that lunch is that I'm intimidating! Well hell yeah I am, because you might have been an easy target. Or, have you met my dad? You have to put up or get out of the way when dealing with that monster. He's a tough audience. Although my skin might be as tough as nails, once you crack the exterior, the inside is a soft mushy mess. But again, not when it comes to business. You should see and hear the knuckle heads I've dealt with in my day. Not to down play any other persons profession, but the clowns that work in the radio business truly take the cake. Between the egos, and the "personalities", and the looks, I'm telling you there is nothing like it. When they see me walk in, the first thing they usually think is "well, this is going to be easy. I totally have a chance with this chick". And then I open my mouth. I sit there and let them talk, and stroke their egos and then I bring them down a notch. I have probably heard every excuses known to man and have a radio fan club as big as my radio hater club. But, the funny thing is, the reason these people hate me is not because I was mean to them. Nope, it was because I wouldn't stand for their bull shit and totally called them out on it. But take the same situation and give it to a guy who just tells them in a totally different way the same exact news and they have a buddy for life. I don't care, you can have them. I have my friends, and they are amazing, as I've mentioned. Does this make me a bitch, maybe, however, the second you see through it and call me on it, you probably have a friend for life. I LOVE when people call me out on my own shit. ESPECIALLY strangers. Well not the guy from the other night at the bar who called me 'cynical as shit', but normally I'm totally down. That guy was a douche lord who couldn't appreciate a good schtick. I mean, for Christ sake, these children were dressed in slut gear. My friends and I totally thought they were the bar hookers out early, but when we found out they were the "talent" for the evening, we had to stay. Well, until they started destroying Led Zeppelin, then we had to leave out of principle. But, so yeah, I'm sarcastic, and I'm honest, and that's just me. People love me for who I am, and if I could change it, I would. That being said, I really don't feel like I'm a mean person. I don't ever want to come across as the bully. Sure, I do make comments about people when I don't know them and should probably think about it before I say it, and unfortunately I am the person that says what everyone at the table is thinking, but again, all part of my charm. At least that's what I'm going with. Could it be the reason I'm still single? Maybe, but I don't believe it. What I believe is that there is a person out there who can totally handle me. Who can and will call me out when I'm wrong. And who can totally put me in my place. Maybe that's why Craig has been around so long. I've never met anyone who has done all of these things to me like he does. It's true I need to be tamed every now and then and for the most part I feel like I have toned it down A LOT. But again, when it comes to business, I. AM. THE. SHIT! This is why I know my day care will be successful. This is why I know I will find investors who will believe in the product as much as I do. This is why I believe that when I was in funemployment for six months, I had no doubt in my mind that the right thing was going to come along. And it did! I've worked far too hard for far too long for it to go any other way. So go ahead and call me intimidating. Say I'm totally a bitch. I'll agree with you 100% and welcome these challanges.

Fashion Police

Does anyone know what the shelf life of underwear is? I'm sure I could Google it and ask the fashion "experts" out there, but my fear is that they would probably say about three weeks, to which I would raise up in such a panic that I'm going to soon die from crotch rot or underwearatitis, that I would rather use a life line to phone a friend. I mean honestly, how embarrassing it would be to die from underwearatitis. Please promise me that if that does happen you all will just tell the other that it was from some staph infection I got in 'Nam and not because I waited too long to change out the ole bloomers. Just to be clear it's not like I'm roaming around the place in holy garments that are barely hanging on by a string. However, funny story. Some new underwear I bought, let's say within the last year, I decided to put on after a good old fashion shower. I was a little concerned that we were a little light on coverage on one side, but like a good gambling girl, I took a risk. I honestly thought that I wasn't going to participate in any strenuous activity which might involve pushing this particular pair over the brink. However, as I made it into the kitchen, a discovery was made that the garbage disposal wasn't working so as I bent over to look for the reset button, the final seconds of this favorite pair of underwear were lived. It was a sad moment indeed. It's hard work to find your favorite pair of each article of clothing that you own and when you do, your expectation is that they are going to live forever. It's not like I bought a goldfish or a plant! This is fabric people! So, as I lay my underwear down to its final resting place, I go back downstairs to find our second string player. But, as I begin to look through my drawer, I notice that my dras have somehow all become out of date. When was the last time I actually did a thorough inspection? Okay, I know that it's been a LONG time since someone has seen me on a regular basis in these things, but serious Galanty, what have you done?!?!? Do you live in workout clothes so much that you fail to notice your good undies have abandoned ship? So I started wondering if the whole one bad apple theory applies to underwear too. Like, was my favorite pair the leader and the rest of them did what she told them too? If she was going down, was everyone going with her?!?! And so out of curiosity, I took a look into the bra drawer to see if the same rebellion was going on there. I'm telling you people, I need to really start paying attention to what I'm putting on my body. I mean, what if I were to run into Justin Timberlake at a bar and he wants to feel me up and I have a hole in my bra and not to mention the fact that I wouldn't even want to take my pants off due to embarrassment. I believe this theory is going to run the remainder of my days as a single lady. WWJT!! What Would Justin Think?!?!? So as my tax return is put into my account, our 'unmentionables' in which I have devoted an entire blog too, is moved closer to the top of the list of things that MUST be purchased when I have money. Let's just hope that Justin isn't in DC this week.....

My big girl pants

After much deliberation and thought, and considering my dad is out of the office this week, I decided to take on the task of doing my taxes myself. For the longest time I honestly thought I was going to have to enlist the help of Mr. H & R block. Although, in the past, I've always been able to do my taxes myself, this year opened up the possibility of disastrous results. You see, over one years time, I've worked in three states and claimed over $700 in non-reimbursed monies, so I was a little concerned that I wouldn't get it right. I mean, I know that Turbo Tax is good, but I never thought little ole me would figure the damn thing out. I don't know what's happened between this year and last, but some one over at the Turbo Tax offices has made it idiot proof. I'm not even sure that I'm going to have to get an accountant next year if they keep this up. The one complaint I will make, because usually I have to make at least one, is that you should charge people $36 in order to file their state taxes. It's the only thing I'm really waiting on, to be honest. I mean, I have to file 3 state tax forms and one of the states I'm only getting $10 back and in another I actually owe money. Not for nothing, but I'm not sure I'm down with paying $108 for money that I'm not entirely sure it's worth it. I'll pay my taxes, don't you worry about that, but not for $36. I'm going to have a find a loop hole in that one. Oh, and another piece of advice, make sure you read the fine print before agreeing to deduct your Turbo Tax cost from your return. They like to throw in a little "gotcha" by also charging you some bank fee of an additional $29. They make it look like all they are doing is charging you the same amount of money as the use of their system, when in all honesty it's additional. Any other day you would have gotten me, Turbo Tax, but I'm on my game today! Take that government and your stupid confusing taxes. If someone as computer illiterate as I am can do their federal taxes in one hour, there might not be any stopping me. First the IRS, then THE WORLD!!!!!!

Muhuhahahahahhahahah

Big drinking week this week. I'm sure to have plenty of stories of tomfoolery and highjinx later!

Frienemies

Today I'd like to tell you a few little stories about some "friends" of mine. Now I don't use these quote fingers because we're sleeping together or I want to be this persons friend or anything remotely close to that. I use quote fingers because once upon a time I truly believed that we were friends. And then somewhere along the line something happened. Maybe these people were always like this and I chose not to see it, or maybe something really did happen, but whatever the case I have lived enough of my life to realize when it is time to move forward.

Story number one:
Let's call this girl Red for the sake of the story.
I'm assuming that you all know someone that you invite to do things and without fail this person, at the very last minute bails on you? Then they come up with some off the wall story that they think you are going to believe when really all you wanted to hear was that they weren't coming? Or sometimes they don't let you know that they aren't coming, they just don't show up. Well, this is Red. I used to be friends with Red in my pre-Winston Salem days. She's actually one of the people that was friends with the gigantic gay ass hole that I told you about. However, before I left, I had gotten so tired of dealing with her excuses, that I just stopped inviting her to things. In my opinion, it's just plain rude to never show up to things that your constantly invited too. I mean, it's one thing if you tell me no, but it's an entirely different situation if you say you're coming and don't. Well, upon moving back here, Red had sent Heather and I a note stating that she had changed her ways and that she really wanted to hang out with us again. I guess after four years she realized that neither of us were really interested in her story telling ability. She had claimed that she had changed her ways and really, really wanted to get together with us. So, after chatting a bit, Heather and I decided to give her another chance. Every person deserves that right. So, we let her know our plans for both next weekend and this upcoming weekend. We gave her down to the minute detail descriptions, even going so far as to send her the website link so that she would have an idea of what she was getting into. We sent her our cell phone numbers and told her to text or call us if there were any problems. The excuses started right in upon her response. Telling us she had a meeting for the breast cancer walk, but should be out of it in plenty of time to meet up with us. If she didn't, she would text us. Immediately I went ahead and bet Heather a million dollars that she wouldn't show up. Okay, so I said I was giving her a second chance, but really I knew better. Fool me once, and all. Well, the day of our girls night out arrived, which coincidentally was the day after our email exchange. We headed out to the bar and with no note from Red, assumed she was to show up. An hour into the evening and only two beers in, because that service was so awful, and no word. Not to worry, I thought, it is only 7 pm. It's kind of early to be worrying if someone is going to show up or not. Two hours into it and our dinner finally arrived as did our next round of beers. (Side note: I'm completely sympathetic towards the food and beverage industry as a whole, however, when your bar is not crowded and it takes you two hours to make a chicken sandwich, salad, and a quesadilla, and you actually forget the quesadilla, your service is terrible. You might want to find a new line of work.) Hmmm, 8 pm and still no Red. I look to Heather and I say, don't text her yet, she's got another hour to redeem herself. It was at 9 pm when I looked at Heather, shook my head and just went, well true to form she didn't show up. It was then that Heather had the genius idea to stop by Red's local watering hole to see if she not only decided to ditch us, but to then show up to another bar with her husband. We wouldn't actually put this past Red to do. So, after paying our bill in which the bartender forgot to take off the quesadilla we never actually ate, only tipping $4, we head out to the other bar. We are greeted by a wall of people who we claim are extremely young, but only later realize that we are the older ones in the room. As we do a lap before committing to our location, we realize that neither of them are here. It is now that I allow Heather the opportunity to call and text them letting them know we are close so that they have absolutely no reason why they can't come out. First phone call attempt, personal cell, straight to voicemail. Second phone call attempt, house phone, no voice mail. Third phone call attempt, work cell, no voicemail. Two texts sent, as of today, Wednesday March 9th, still no response. As we belly up to the bar, the remainder of our night is spent bashing Red and wondering why in the world we put ourselves through this again. It wasn't until Monday morning when I awoke and noticed an email from Red herself subject line, so.....i suck. What I wanted to say was, no argument from me. But instead I keep to the "if I don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" motto. Upon further reading of this email, it goes on to say that she didn't get home until 7:30, fell asleep at 8:30, had turned her ringer off during her meeting and it wasn't until Sunday night did she realize that she had a voicemail and two texts. On top of that, she proceeds to tell us that throughout the day there was this endless nagging on her of "something that she knew she had to do that day but couldn't, for the life of her remember what that something was". Let me explain how I know this is a lie. 1. On facebook, she decided to check in at the gym in the morning. The only way one can check in anywhere is through their phone. 2. Who doesn't have their phone on their person at all times and even though it doesn't make a sound or blink that annoying light in the corner, who doesn't check to make sure there isn't anything on their screen that they've missed? 3. What grown adult, who normally spends every Friday and Saturday night at the same bar goes to bed at 8:30 pm?!?!?!? She has no kids. 4. We emailed with her FRIDAY AFTERNOON for the Saturday night activity. You mean to tell me that you forgot something within 24 hour of it supposed to be happening? I might want to shift my emotion to concern if you can't remember something the very next day. That's almost troubling.
So, okay, yes, maybe I'm blowing this way out of proportion and some of you reading this that are friends of mine might be thinking to yourself, holy crap, very small window to screw up with this girl, but it's not true at all. I consider myself a very tolerant and caring person. However, when you continue to allow me to give you the opportunity to correct past behavior that you know is not okay and then you show me by doing the exact same thing that you've been doing the entire time, what else am I supposed to do? If a guy I were dating was displaying this type of behavior, what would you tell me to do with him? Hopefully kick his ass to the curb because he obviously don't have enough respect for me to treat me the way he would want to be treated or that I deserve to be treated. And I would want you to tell me this. So, as a friend, I hold you in the same regard. Obviously that really struck a nerve with me.

Story number two:
Okay this one, I probably will get in a little bit of trouble about, but I'd like to stop an epidemic which is sweeping our nation. I'm all on board the affordability that text messaging and emailing provides us. I get the fact that some people, instead of sending individual messages to people, prefer to send them out in mass style. And I might actually let you get away with it for a Happy Thanksgiving or Happy New Year or Merry Christmas. I'm not saying I like, it , but I'll let it slide in comparison. I am, however, going to draw the line if you're going to give such big news as a wedding announcement, birth of a child, or a pregnancy. I feel that if we're that good of friends maybe a little personalized note with it, or a phone call, or something other than reading it on facebook, blogosphere, mass email/text. I don't know, call me old fashion, but the reason that I went to TCU over going to UT was because I felt like I wanted to be a name, not just a number. And again, maybe I hold my friendships in too high a regard that I treat them way differently than some other people. And then again, maybe as I'm writing this I realize I should be taking some sort a of hint in that I'm not friends with these people the way I thought I was. Huh, well that one made me think a little bit.

So the moral of these stories, as usually I have them, if not for you all, then definitely for myself is that communication is a huge thing in this world and with all of the new ways to get stuff out there, sometimes getting back to the basics means more to someone than you might think.

What happens in Vegas....

I gotta say, if technology had nuts, I would totally kick him in them right now. Yesterday was a total nightmare trying to figure out how to configure my Outlook to match up to the network server. It took me two hours before I sent out an SOS signal into the sky and have someone help me. It then took me an additional 5 hours to figure out why my email was not being sent to my phone. I thought I had everything inputted into the system correctly, but nothing seemed to be happening except for a danger exclamation point symbol popping up and telling me that my email wasn't working. Well, excuse my French, but no shit Sherlock. Instead of showing me the sad clown face, why don't you send someone here obviously smarter than me to figure it out?!?!?!? Sad faces and exclamation points are just condescending. You should be ashamed of yourself. So, that was yesterday. Today, I've spent the better part of the morning yelling at the scanner for eating my papers or doing nothing at all. And then the afternoon wondering why the mail merge that I did on Monday has somehow morphed into a new being completely and now won't take the new data entries into the template. I can't tell you how many times I imagined taking a baseball bat to these machines and drowning them in gasoline and then lighting a match. The creators of the movie Office Space were onto something. One can never feel dumber than when one is staring down the face of machinery who you know is just sitting there laughing at you.

And now onto more important things. So last week I mentioned that I was heading to Vegas for a job interview. And considering that I was so vague I'm imagining that your first thoughts were of a showgirl try out, stripper audition, or celebrity impersonator. So close on all of those assumptions, and part of me wishes that any of those were true. But, I'm happy to announce that I will not be changing the title of my blog because in radio is exactly where I'll be staying. I never thought I would utter those words again, but this new company is allowing me the opportunity to get back into the world that I have spent the majority of my adult life, while continue to live out the dream of opening my dog daycare. When I first got the call about the job, I really thought it was almost too good to be true. How could a company encourage me to do something with my extra time, even when they were paying me? I've always waited for the other shoe to drop when something was way too good too be true, but after much self convincing, I know this is exactly the opportunity I deserve. I can't tell you how many days I've sat behind a desk and wondered why I'm taking up a chair at all? When I do work, I work my ass off, but I've never really had a job that required my year 'round attention. Now I have the chance to do things on my own timeline and be happy at the same time. Of course I could write you all in a few months saying that my trepidation of taking this job was a reality and now I'm living in my car with my dog wondering just how long we both can go before I start to eat her. I don't think it will get to that point, but hey, anythings possible. So, I'm happy to report that after 6 months of funemployment I am gainfully employed and moving to a city near you. For the time being, I'm going to sit tight and make some money so that I'm able to move, but in the meantime I'm just going to have to make due with my room mates :o) I don't know if Scout will make it out alive, but I'll do just fine. I guess with her, moving home meant that her animal status moved up from dog to goat. I've heard of dogs eating some crazy things, but this particular animal has gotten into EVERYTHING. She's eaten everything from dad's glasses, to phone cords, an ENTIRE tin of cupcakes, a loaf of bread, pillows, paper towels, oven mitts, towels, wrappers, money (well to her credit, she's only eating half of the bills, but still. We try to check her poop for change, but sadly there is none to report) you name it, it's not safe in the house. Unless of course you are her actual food and that she's been picky enough not to eat. Today I get a call from Meg asking me if I had thrown away a container of vitamins because it was empty. The answer was no, but somehow she got into the drawer in my bathroom and took out the empty container, got bored with that, found the cookie wrappers that were hidden somewhere downstairs, got bored with that, started working on the pillows, got bored with them so went upstairs to have a nap. The amazing thing is that the gate was up to prevent her from even going downstairs. This kid is the best magician that money can't buy. It honestly amazes me how we haven't ended up in urgent care with her yet. I'm sure there are things that we haven't even seen her eat that she's gotten into. For a few days, Meg was missing her Netflix DVD and I thought, oh God, here we go again, but we found that in an unexpected place. (that's not unusual for the Galanty house though) I mean, my brother lives with an honest to goodness goat, and I wonder how different the two of them actually are. I mean besides the fact that it's not weird to own a dog. Last night my dad came home and probably said the funniest line of 2011. Meg had asked about my brother and how things were going in the new place and he says "Well, first of all, the goat is now living in the house". I thought I was going to pee my pants. If this were a euphemism for anything it might not be so funny, but in the literal sense, that is the funniest thing I've ever heard. I mean, for starters, did you really think if you were going to move in with someone who got a goat, that that animal wouldn't somehow make it into the house? I mean, what kind of crazy nut job wakes up and thinks to themselves that their life is incomplete somehow, but if only they had a goat they would be fulfilled? And then, what type of person also says, the person that I'm going to live with decided one day to get a goat. This is awesome. The goat is so cute. To me, I can't honestly say who is worse? The dirty hippie for getting the goat, or my brother for thinking it was going to be okay. But then, it keeps getting funnier, or to me at least. I literally just got off the phone with my brother who says, "I leave the house for 2 minutes and by the time I get back, there is goat shit on my bed". I honestly tried not to laugh directly into the phone, but did you honestly expect a different result? THE LADY HAS A GOAT!!!! I sometimes wonder how he and I are related.

I think that just about wraps up the latest in the dramady that can sometimes be my life. I hope I have kept you entertained, line by line.

Weather What?!?!?!?

Okay, so riddle me this? How in the world was I driving around Northern Virginia, last week, with the top down on my convertible and this week I have my winter coat back on? It's like Mother Nature was saying, hey kids, I know you got hit really bad last year with this terrible winter storm so I'm going to throw you a bone. But this bone is going to be a very tiny one that you can't really touch, but rather admire from a very, very, VERY far distance. Have I mentioned that I hate winter, because I do.

Considering that I don't have anything earth shattering to report, allow me a few moments to catch you up on the latest in this girls life.....

DOG DAY CARE: Had a great idea for a name, The Scooby Shack, which immediately got squashed because an IP lawyer just knew I would get sued by Hannah Barbarra. However, my confusion lies not in the fact that I would get sued, because God knows I don't want too, but in the fact that upon Googling the name, I come up with at least three other businesses with the same name. If those names aren't trademarked, how will I be the one being sued? One friend of mine suggests that I literally call HB to find out if I could use the name, which I'm toying with because I REALLY like the name. Other than that, I have decided to move the business to Long Beach due to the massive amounts of dogs and people in the area. I've done the math and shockingly the cost of doing business in Long Beach, CA vs. Southlake, TX is very similar. I thought I was going to lose my shirt, but it looks like everything is coming together.

COOKING: I'm so excited to report that I started cooking from my Rachel Ray cookbook again. I'm also proud to say that the two recipes that I made in a week; Florentine Meatballs and Fajita Burgers were both amazing. I'm still toying with the idea of taking the Julie and Julia blog concept of talking about each of the recipes I make from her, but I honestly don't want to challenge my good friend Rachel. Stayed tuned for next weeks Paella burgers. I have no idea how they will come out, but I love Paella and I love burgers, so I feel like it can't fail.

WEIGHT: I'm going to call complete BS on the whole P90x concept. Although it's been 6 months from me leaving North Carolina, I have lost a total of 12 pounds, on my own! I work out when I want to. Basically eat what I want to, in moderation, and don't have some alien life form, also known as Tony Horton, screaming at me to keep it up. I will admit that I was a sucker for the system and if it worked for you, than congratulations, I just don't want someone telling me I have to workout every day and eating only specific foods that will cost me way more at the grocery store. Wow, what a great life coach I would be :o) Don't listen to those other guys kids, just do what I say and you'll get the results you want :o)

VEGAS: I will only mention this briefly. Yes, I will be going to Vegas on an over-night trip on Thursday. This is to attend a job interview/company retreat with a new company who is courting me. I will talk more about this later, but I do believe there are some people who deserve the respect to hear this news from me directly instead of reading it on a blog that "somehow" made it to their attention. Not that I haven't learned first hand how my blog could be taken out of context and come back to bite me in the ass or anything....but I digress.

THE BACHELOR: Okay yes, I am watching this season again, and ONLY because the hottest contestant that has ever graced the screen of my television has made a repeat performance. The girls have done anything but disappoint me on this journey either. I know how invested I am in a show when I'm yelling at the screen every time that Brad didn't vote Michelle off. Even though the ending of last weeks show was ruined for me, I continued to see the sweet justice prevail. A question was asked of me if I would ever want to be on that show and the short answer is no. I would NEVER ever, EVER want to date the same guy as 20 other women. At least with me knowing about it. I have a hard enough time when someone doesn't answer their texts right away and I immediately jump to the conclusion that he's on some sort of date. Could you imagine my crazy ass on that show knowing that my subject of desire is off gallivanting with some other slut doing God knows what, while I sit at our Whoretel with the other rejects of the night. Yeah, I just don't think it would work out for me.

So, wish me luck on Thursday, even though I know I won't really need it. I hope to at least have some crazy stories from that trip for you guys....Man, my life is a little boring lately. I need to spice it up a bit.

Okay, okay, I know you haven't heard from me in weeks and have been wondering what on earth happened to me. Well, to make a long story short, I regret to inform you that upon attempting to knock over an ATM, and get away with it, I got caught. This is what happens when you listen to your friends who come up with a "can't fail" scenario....which is exactly what happened, it failed. Who knew that this certain ATM location was a hot spot for undercover cops. I was arrested immediately and detained for what seemed to be the longest length of time in my life. I had to endure the worst possible living conditions any person should EVER. Jail is not a place that people should visit, let alone live. You know how I used to say that I'm too pretty to go back to jail, well, now I can mean it. "Thankfully", due to overcrowding, I was sent home and placed under house arrest. I was too embarrassed to blog during that time, so I went silent. Heck, even my closest friends that weren't involved in this terrible scheme had no idea what happened. I'm only confessing now because of many constant reminders that my blog has been empty. Plus, I was really running out of excuses as to why I wasn't around...soooo, there you have it.


Raise your hands if you actually believed that story? That over thinker, do-gooder me, would actually get arrested for doing something as stupid as trying to knock over an ATM? I've seen Barber Shop, and Barber Shop 2, which in and of itself is a crime, but those two idiots couldn't make it happen, and that's a movie. Usually everything works out in the movies. No, if I'm going to get arrested, it's going to be for something far more calculated than that. I'm a go big or go home kind of girl. If I'm getting caught, it's on purpose. To become legendary. I only made this story up to potentially have something entertaining in this blog, in the event that I disappoint you with the truth. The reason I went MIA is because I'd just been back in California for the past 10 days. Just living the life at Pebble Beach. Soaking up the 70 degree weather while my friends back here on the East Coast were dealing with snow and cold. If it's any consolation, I wasn't outside very much. If the shoe was on the other foot, I wouldn't care, but 70 degree weather in February...I'll take it. I'd love to say that the most interested thing happened to me at Pebble, but it didn't. This tournament was MUCH slower than The Open, but actually had celebrities. I will now take this moment to focus on what a pain in the ass celebrities really are.
1. They walk around pretending that they don't want attention from everyone around them, but the second they are around, it's pure chaos. My recommendation, celebrities, order room service if you really don't want people to fawn over you.
2. They immediately think that every one around them knows who they are. Considering my Bible is People magazine, of course I'm going to know who most of these clowns are, but please don't assume that just because you are a singer, that you are going to be immediately recognized by everyone around you.
3. Not only does the camera add 10 pounds, it adds 10 inches. All these people are short. I mean, even with flats on, I'm staring at the top of Kevin Costner's head. Oh, and Padma, eat a sandwich. I thought that if I sneezed you were going to blow down the stairs. You work on a cooking show for Christ sake. Don't you think you should actually eat what they are cooking?
4. George Lopez....stop asking my cocktail servers to break up with their boyfriends. They only have one kidney as it is and they aren't going to give it to you....ohhhhh burn.
To be honest, the only celebrity I have anything nice to say about is Clay Walker. Although my friends at Pebble would disagree with me. He was so humble when he walked in with his adorable little family. The hostess had no idea who he was and he actually runs a charity tournament there once a year. Of course I spoke to him like we were old friends. Got him a table right away, and not because he's Clay Walker, but because he had two little kids, under the age of 3 with him and if there is anything that I know, it's that if you are coming to a restaurant to eat with a child, let alone two, you are ready to eat now. You have no time to dilly dally. Of course it didn't hurt how well he has aged because he's still cute as a button.

All in all, it was an okay 10 days away. I really missed my dog and wanted to get home sooner than normal. I know for 10 days away I don't really have much to say, but if Dad knew I was blogging instead of doing his to-do list for him, I'd be in some trouble :o)

Hope to talk with you guys again before the weeks out!

Late!

Three and counting

I would like to commend myself for being strong enough to not take some relationship news personally. The first couple of times I let things like this slide, but three times and I need to call Guinness to see if I hold some sort of record. As of today, three men in which I have previously dated, have either come out since we've dated or have had gay encounters of some type, which we all knows means they are gay, they just are denying it to the world. To protect the identity of these men, I will choose to either not name them or give them absolutely ridiculous names.

COLLEGE: Immediately upon entering a new state, a new school, and a new way of life, I was overwhelmed by everything going on around me. For 18 years, I had been a rule follower, a goody too shoes, if you will. I know it might be hard for some of you to believe, but it was true. Before the me I am today, I was an honor roll/AP student, president of my church youth group, captain of the softball team, editor of the school literary magazine, etc. etc. etc. I pretty much had my choice of whatever school I wanted to. I, however, WANTED to go to school in Texas. And in going away to school, the Polly Perfect persona that I had built in High School was about to change. I wanted to become the person I always wanted to be, not the person my mother wanted me to be. My first role of defiance, going to school in Texas. I don't think pissed would have accurately described her feelings towards my first independent decision. To give you an idea, we still haven't spoken in 14 years, but that's her problem, I digress. The first couple of weeks, inching into months was hard. I didn't realize how home sick I would be, but the one great thing that college does is gives you your own little social network in the dorms that you might not have otherwise found on your own. My dorm assignment was apparently in the "cool kids" girls dorm on campus. I was in heaven. Here I was this tall gangly kid, a long way from home, never really partied a day in her life, having every type of party imaginable at her finger tips. As we girls often do, our "wing" of the dorm sectioned off and became social butterflies roaming around from party to party. As the weeks drug on, we slowly started to form an alliance towards a particular off campus fraternity that threw some of the greatest parties around. These weren't exactly the best looking guys on campus, and if there is one thing I can say about TCU as a whole, we have some pretty people around. The more we became a staple at these parties, the more we got to know the frequenters of these events as well. One group of guys, in particular, I became immediate friends with. Apparently, these 5 gentlemen were not only Sophomores, but they were also suite mates. It was like a one stop shop for hang out time. As I started to spend more time with these guys, a natural closeness started to form with one of the guys in particular. He was amazing. He was funny and charming and had the most contagious laugh on the planet. To watch him smile would light up a room. He just had that presence about him. And of all the male suitors in which I have kissed in my day, I would put him at the top of the list. He was just everything that a girl could want. He always complimented me when I walked in the room and made me feel like I was the most beautiful person around. When you were with him, you thought you were alone. Have I accurately described this person? I was one smitten kitten. We were invited to formals and mixers and all sorts of events, we weren't even affiliated with a fraternity or sorority. We were just that fun to be around. Okay, okay, looking back yeah, there were probably all sorts of red flags, or magenta flags, in his case, but what is a girl to do? When you're in it, do you really want to hear what you don't want to hear? To this day, even though it took many years to become facebook friends, he still hasn't told me himself that he's gay. But, let's be honest, he is. I mean, if the three seconds that I almost fell out of my chair when he popped up in the movie Whip It didn't hammer the nail in that coffin, nothing would. Okay, maybe his facebook pictures....of him wearing yellow pants and bow tie....or a bandanna...on his neck.....and nothing but guys.....half naked.........At the very least, he's given me something to look at. God bless you my little friend, God bless you.

CROFTON: Okay, this one, I've got to be honest is a tough one for me to write about. If I'm completely honest with you guys, which I feel you do deserve, I'm still pretty pissed about this one. To tell you the truth, there is no possible scenario in which I would be okay running into this person again and don't completely wish him well. Breath, okay, now that that's off my chest our story can begin. So douche lord and I met when my best friend and her husband were living in a townhouse right next to him. Apparently, we had been travelling in the same social circles, but had never met. Each one had been told of the others existence, and how much we would get along. There was so much build up, I could hardly wait to meet this magnificent creature. And boy were they right! We were like peas and carrots. From the second we met we were hardly ever apart. I can even remember the first time that he and I went out without anyone else. It was the night before I was heading out to Texas for a fun little trip with Laura and Bo. As a matter of fact, I believe it was Hurricane Katrina weekend. Wow, talk about a sign that two people shouldn't be together. Hey God, next time you want to tell me not to be with someone, you might want that person to get hit by a bus. It might make it clearer to me. So, there we were, drinking EXTREMELY heavily at a very shi shi restaurant in downtown. Getting to know each other a little bit each sip. I don't know when it became okay, but at some point we both walked to the bathroom and just stood in the hallway making out. I couldn't tell you how long it was because I was seriously hammered off fruity martini's. Side note, if I ever mention the words I was drinking martini's chances are good I've gotten pretty off my rocker. So, there is was, the start of one of the most fun relationships I ever had. This boy was a spoiler too. I mean, we ate steak all the time, whenever we went out to dinner, it was to only the best restaurants around, and he owned his own townhouse, in a DC suburb. That's something. I can hardly remember a day or night that went by where we weren't together. Then came the amazing night where we went out with a married couple that we absolutely adored and she and he were talking about how much he cared about me and went as far as to mention marriage. I wasn't sure how serious this was, but apparently things were moving very quickly. That night, he told me that he loved me for the first time. It was awesome. We decided around that time, that we needed to get away, just the two of us. So, we took some time off work and headed down to my parents beach house for a long weekend. As I'm driving (yes this is important to note) DL thought it was the opportune moment to be completely honest with me. You see, all during our courtship there had been rumors and speculations flying around that he and his former room mate had had a fling. I had my suspicions, but I'm always open minded unless someone tells me themselves. He, of course, chose a dark, two lane road, in the middle of night, at the BEGINNING of our trip to tell me the truth. You see, he and his little buddy had "experimented" but it meant nothing. He loved me, it was the Christian thing to do. Of course, I had an influx of questions, beginning with, so are you gay? Do you prefer men? You see, ole DL was in the midst of a religious crisis. He loved church and went every week. I believe that he was praying so hard to have God not make him have these thoughts. I believe he went as far as to know that it wasn't a "Christian" thing to do, so he didn't allow himself to be the person he was meant to be. I heard him out, but things were never the same. Slowly, we started distancing apart. He would have "late night" meetings with these strange guys, only to find out later that he was just trying to "get it out of his system". I had no problem supporting him, if he was gay, I just wanted him to be honest. During our last meal together, he and I sat down and he told me that he wanted to tell me something. I thought to myself, this is it! THIS IS IT! I'm going to be the one person in the world that he can tell that he's gay to. Only the words that came out weren't that. He proceeded to tell me that he's had some life changes going on with him and he needs a little time to figure everything out, but as soon as he was ready to talk about it, that I would be the first person he would call. Now, how could someone be mad at that? Oh, just wait. So, it wasn't 24 hours later, that my grandfather passed away. I was beside myself with grief and planing and helping my grandmother get everything ready. As my cousins and I were shopping for funeral attire, my phone rings. You know those moments in your life where you know exactly where you were, what you were doing and what you had in your hands? This was one of them. It was my best friend. Her first question, are you sitting down? Since my answer was no and I really wasn't in the mood for any type of games, I walked outside to let her continue. She proceeded to tell me that DL had flown to Texas, overnight, and proposed to his ex girlfriend and she said yes. I still, to this day, cannot believe that even happened. Words cannot describe the emotions I was feeling right then. BUT if I were to have to describe what I was feeling, mothers, cover your children's ears, it would be so fucking pissed I want to punch something. I've never really cut my bestie off and never really wanted too, but I couldn't get a grip on everything she had just told me, so I had to hang up. My gay ex-boyfriend had flown to Texas to propose to his ex-girlfriend, who on multiple occasion he described as looking like the little creature for Lord of the Rings that actually keeps the ring. What do you do?!?!? Oh, I tell you what I did. I called that piece of shit excuse for a human being and I told his voicemail that I hope he dies alone by slipping and falling in a pool of AIDS. That is verbatim too. I was so pissed and honestly even writing this makes me a little angry at that ass hat. Do you know that in the past 5 years, that ahole had the nerve to have a child too! What sort of selfish prick does such a thing?!?!?!? Ugh, he makes me want to punch something. A few years ago, I was at lunch with a friend of mine, over by where he works and as we were leaving lunch, I saw him approaching. My immediate thought was to push him into oncoming traffic, but instead I ran right back inside to avoid any sort of confrontation. That piece of garbage doesn't deserve the air I breathe or the time spent talking to, even if I do look good....

2011: All things come in threes right? Well, I hope so because I really want this to be the last surprise. So here we are, almost a full month into the new decade. I can't honestly say that this one is a total shock. I somehow saw this one coming, and really didn't think it would take this long to come out. But, ever since I've been home, one of the common people that I've been hanging out with is a guy I dated YEARS ago. Now nothing has gone on between the two of us since I've been home, but to the common man, one would think that we were dating again, only we're not. Okay, yes, I was the person involved in the dissolving of his engagement many moons ago, but it takes two for a relationship to not work. Turn those judging eyes off. We've gone to movies and dinner and happy hours and the white house. It's been fun. But, I honestly never looked into it being anything more than us just having a really good time. Well, apparently, he's been holding on to this big secret for so long that he just couldn't keep it in any longer, so, over FACEBOOK, he decides to start a little chat. I mean honestly, who tells something so big to someone that means anything to them, over facebook. I mean, I knew it was coming, but bless his little heart that he didn't know what to say. But, he just wanted me to know that he was into both girls and boys.......I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to take a stand here, any boy that likes boy parts, doesn't like girls. I almost feel like we're the gateway drug to what you're really trying to get. Boys are not bi, they are in transition and it just might make them feel better to say it that way. Maybe it sounds less gay. Not to me, but maybe to them....okay, so here I am, sitting in front of my computer, armed with knowledge I already kind of knew, talking, no facebook chatting with someone who is probably terrified on the other end of the computer. So, I did what any person SHOULD do with a person that comes out. You say "so what", because honestly at the end of the day, they are still that person that you love, now they are just allowed to be honest about themselves. I would be surprised if I didn't love them more.

So this is how my brain has been working today. I wish nothing but the best for 2 out of the 3 boys in my past. The other one I would just as rather him fade away. I will say this on record though, if Craig and/or Bryan come out in my lifetime, I will hang up dating for the rest of my life and become a nun.

Blogdate

Here's what I figure...If I post at least once a week, that should catch all my "followers" up on the happenings of my life. Considering that I'm about 75% convinced that the only people reading this blog are my old friends in Winston Salem who need to know what is going on in my life without actually having to pick up the phone....ohhh burn :o) So, let me try and put a little bow on some of the things I've left hanging out there.

MY CAR: I somehow think I'm just a glutton for punishment because instead of letting the whole thing go and just waiting until I figure out where I'm going to live for the rest of my life, I went into the Jeep dealership on Friday night. I believe what my actions are called is insane. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result. I really thought that going to a different dealership that sold cheaper priced cars would give me a better shot. Little did I take into account that the last time I went car shopping was 2010 and now it's 2011. That makes my car one year older and according to the dealership, worth $3,000 less than it was a month ago. I couldn't believe my eyes and ears. One months time, which is apparently scaled in dog years decreases the value of things. It took everything I had not to throw something at these people. Not only does Kelley Blue Book still value my car at $19,000 in excellent condition, which it is, but these guys are throwing out numbers in the $14,000 range. I know I don't know much about cars, but I do know this isn't right. So, after that life lesson and being hit over the head AGAIN, I've decided to scrap the whole getting a new car thing and stick with the one I love. Worse case scenario, I drive it out to California, where they appreciate the kind of car I drive and get something new out there. I'm sure I'm going to get more bang for my buck in a place that has a lot of sunshine.

MY BUSINESS: After my meeting with the local SBA, I had been given some homework to essentially re-do my entire business plan to show investors and not bankers. You know, since I don't have any collateral. And for three weeks, I've really been trying. But to change something you had been working on for 3 months in three weeks to "dumb it down" is next to impossible. I poured my blood sweat and tears into this thing and even though my grammar isn't perfect, it's exactly what I want to show. The people that I want to approach will know me anyway and know what I'm trying to do. But, then this morning I woke up with what I thought might be the greatest idea of all time. Bear with me on this. At the day care that I currently work at we house foster dogs that don't have a home they can go to. My thought is, why not create a daycare/boarding facility for those dogs? We could have a trainer on site to help with them each day. I feel that most dogs that aren't adopted aren't because they don't have the proper training, but my facility would take care of that. We would keep no more than 25 dogs at a time and rotate them as they are adopted. We can host adoption days and now take those animals that are currently in shelters, essentially on borrowed time anyway and give them a shot. We could partner with a local vet clinic and make sure that all these animals are kept up to date with all vaccinations and neutering obligations. Now, I understand that what I'm trying to create would be a non-profit organization. But, when it comes right down to it, if someone doesn't take care of the animals, where will they go? I feel very strongly that this could work. I just need someone else to believe in this as well.

DIET: We all know how hard I was working on P90x right? Well, ever since moving home, I've lost 10 pounds from just eating better and working out. I feel great! I don't know if less stress has anything to do with it, or not being around food all the time, but it's been awesome! I have 5 more pounds to go before I hit my goal weight, but to be honest, if I don't get to it, I think I'll be okay. Just changing my eating habits and feeling better about everything is payoff enough.

Well, I think that about sums up my week. With Pebble Beach right around the corner, I'm sure to have some better stories soon.

Yours in blogging

Kg

Parking Wars

This weekend was one for the records books. I'm trying to put a positive spin on things, but after the weekend I had, I'm just glad it's Monday. Let's start out with the positive....Guess who's going back to Pebble Beach?!?!?!?! That's right, it's me! I received a post card in the mail a few weeks back and remembered all the permanent employees talking about how fun this one AT&T Tournament was. Since I really only have two part time jobs, I thought I would look further into the situation. Come to find out, not only am I being flown out there, but they want me to come out early to interview for a full time spot out there!!! How awesome! The most recognizable golf course in the world wants little ole me to come out there and work. Now, for those of you following my dog day care process at home, this is not stopping that dream. I will still be pursuing that, only now, I will have some financial security that doesn't have me picking up dog poop for 5 hours a day. Oh, and it gets me out of my parents house, which by the way is driving me nuts. We all know how amazing the stories were from me when I was out there before, can you just imagine what this trip will bring? Thank God I won't have to run into Captain Poop his Pants and his Mom Redneck Rita. Oh, I'm so excited for this opportunity, I can just feel my life changing already.


So, now that the good is out of the way, let's focus on the rest of the weekend, because let me be honest, this Pebble Beach information came early evening on Friday. Ahhh Saturday, a day that will go down in the record books. It all seemed normal when I woke up. I was excited that the only thing I really had going on was that I had to work from 2-6. I mean, anyone can do anything for four hours, right? And even that was going smoothly. The dogs were behaving, there weren't too many terrible dogs, so it seemed like this was an easy night for me. As five o'clock rolled around, my "manager" told me to start crating up my dogs for the night. Let me go on record by saying that technically we aren't supposed to leave work until 8 to allow the dogs extra time to play before they go in their crates, so five o'clock is EXTREMELY early for dogs to go down for the night. Especially if they aren't supposed to be out of their crates in the morning until 8:30. That's a really long time for a dog to stay in a crate and I hate when this guy asks me to put these dogs up so early. But, I'm a doer so I did. But then I realized that he was just crating these smaller dogs so that he could bring the bigger ones in. Which made absolutely no sense, nor was it fair to the dogs to allow them to have to sit in a crate while watching the other dogs play. So I spoke up and said, you know what Chris, just leave them out, I'll watch them all play. It's only fair. Well, only one dog was left in the crate because Chris was trying to fix a screw that had fallen off. Now, please keep in mind that the dog in the crate was an adoption dog, not trained, and not fixed. So all you animal lovers out there know that this dog was a wee bit hyper. Can't help it, doesn't know any different. So, as a hyper dog, he started jumping. He wanted so much attention, he couldn't even stand it, when out of the blue, Chris had had enough and smack the dog on the head so hard it yelped. I was standing there in shock. I had to immediately grab my dog and walk away from the situation. This is NOT the type of place that I want to work, nor would I EVER recommend that anyone I know send their dogs to this establishment. How dare you put a hand on another persons animal! How dare you touch something that is so helpless and so excited to be around people that he has to jump to get close to you! Clearly I am still very upset with this whole thing. And to make matters worse, he showed no remorse. He actually said to me, "guess he won't be jumping up anymore" and laughed. I simply said, yeah, because you beat the shit out of him, and walked away. The very next morning I ended up calling the owner because my intention was to quit, but before doing that I had to let the owner know what was going on in his establishment. I've met this guy a total of one time in three months and that was for five minutes. If this were my place, I would want someone to tell me what one of my "managers" was going. Our conversation ended up being 45 minutes and within it he offered me a manager role. I said I would have to think about it, and I will. So, we'll see what happens tomorrow when I show up to work and see if this guy is still there. If he is, I'm walking out and they can deal with the repercussions of it all. I'm at this job to be an advocate for animals, not to blame them for things they don't know better about.



And then we go from bad to worse... I was so excited to go out to dinner with a friend of mine. I hadn't seen her in such a long time and even longer since she went out by herself. We have a wonderful meal and decide to go have a nightcap to end our evening. We pull up to a bar and park at our neighborhood Rite Aid. There were no signs, that I could see telling us that we couldn't park there, so we did. Head into the bar for a few cocktails and around 11:30 head out into the.....HOLY SHIT WHERE IS MY CAR!?!?!?!???!?! You know that feeling when you've already had a bad day and you think to yourself, what else could possibly go wrong? Have your car towed! So, we call the number on the sign, which was apparently outside the parking lot, only to discover that the "nice" lady on the phone didn't have our cars on their lot. To make matters worse, apparently the lot where are cars were, didn't have a phone. So, essentially, we were screwed. With the lot address in our phone GPS, we try to hail down a cab. I'm going to go ahead and say that this cab driver was a God thing because we were passed by about 14 cabs before one actually stopped. Of course he didn't take credit cards, but he was willing to drive us around to try and find this place. My initial thought is why, wouldn't he, he's a cab driver. So, we follow the GPS to a location which happened to be in the middle of a river. No way, can't be correct. So we turn right and go down a very scary ally to a Hertz dealership where the security guy came out and told us he had no idea where we were trying to go. This is when I was starting to have to pee. I could probably only last a few more minutes before I might explode. So, we head up to the local gas station, because let's be honest, I'm not going to last much longer and if anyone is going to know the area, it would be someone that works at a gas station, right? Well, I was half right. Peeing was instant relief which bought us a few more hours of time. However, the attendant was a little less helpful. Not only was his English a little rusty, but his directions were even worse. He had no idea where we were trying to, so off we go to call the "sweet" little lady at A1 towing. Thankfully this time, she picks up. By now she has recognized Jenny's voice and is beginning to get irritated with us because clearly her directions have worked up to this point. She "politely" gives Jenny a different address because "if you're putting the address into the GPS, you have to put in this one". OMG, you have to be kidding me. Did you think we were walking there? However, low and behold, IT'S THE SAME DAMN SPOT WE'VE CIRCLED FOR THE LAST 45 MINUTES! It was as we were making our 4th turn past Big Ben and Parliament that our cab driver spots a tow truck with some cars on the bed. Being WAY more clear headed than Jenny and I put together, he decides to follow this maniac. This guy is weaving all over a parking lot and driving like a complete moron. I honestly can't believe that we're following him as bad as he's driving. He finally pulls over in front of an IHOP (well of course the poor soul has to eat), where he hops out of his truck, HIGH as a kite and we roll down the window to see if he knows where this place is. He is a tow truck driver so if anyone is going to know.....oh for the love of God, this bozo doesn't know either?!?!? WTF! Did someone just take my car? At this point it would have been easier to call the cops to report my car stolen than to continue through this mess. Although "helpful Hal" did point us in some direction, we're just not sure where it was. So, without much option, we followed where he told us to go. "You go down this one road here (main highway), than take this first left, I don't know the name of the street (major intersection), take your first right by the bus terminal, and take it all the way down where it ends on Balls street". Okay, now I know he's making shit up. There is no street in Crystal City named Balls street and to be honest, if I wanted to mess with people, I think that would be an extremely creative way of how to do it. I just wasn't in the mood. At this exact moment, I'm starting to get really pissed, really tired, and really worried that I'm going to have to take this cab home, wake my parents up to try to help me find my car. So, we head down following the directions. We still haven't stopped at an ATM to get cash and since we actually knew where we were, we decided now was as good a time as any. So, Jenny hops out of the car and the cab driver and I begin to have our heart to heart. He starts telling me how bad he feels for us. That last week he was robbed, at gun point, in his cab, then his cab was actually towed the same exact day. I felt that I was either drunk and hearing this story incorrectly, which I really don't believe I was, or this guy had the worst possible luck. But through all that he continues to tell me that it was a God thing. He believe that God was either saving him from something worse that could have happened to him that night, or building him up for something wonderful that is going to happen to him in the future. My mouth was literally agape when Jenny walked back into the cab. This wonderful human being had been driving the two of us around for the past hour listening to us bitch about our problems and he was held at gunpoint. Kudos my man. My problems are anything compared to that. So, we continue our journey, following the half ass directions we received from the tow truck driver, when we never came upon Balls St. Shocking, I know. So, we turn back around and head to the hotel where maybe we could find a desk clerk or another cab driver who might know where this place is. We pull up and find a guy sitting in his cab right outside the hotel. Another shock, HE has no idea where this place is. Now, our cab driver is calling the tow place. Luckily we get our "friend" on the phone again and in the nicest way, he starts asking for directions. Clearly, this lady has had a long night and not in the mood to deal with the language barrier she is coming across with him. So, he hands me the phone and I start talking. Although a majority of my life has been spent in customer service, I do not expect someone on the other end of the phone to EVER be rude to me at 1:30 in the morning, when I've been driving around for an hour and a half trying to find my car on the BS address you gave us. So, I simply asked for directions. In the middle of her giving me the address again, I simply said, please don't give me the address again. We've been driving around for half the night....when I was cut off "If you want directions, you need to shut up!" I was floored. Not even my own family speaks to me that way. The edge in which I was teetering on had been decided. I am now full on pissed at this C U iN Toledo. And I HATE that word, but in reality, it's the only one that fits for her. This grown-up just told me to shut up, when I'm trying to find my car. I'm sorry, YOU took this from me. YOU! And I've been driving around this city, in which I lived a majority of my life and have no idea where you are. Thankfully, she handed the phone over to someone that knew where we were and got us to the actual lot. The one lane, dark, deserted road in which this place was located was only missing fog and the scary music for it to be my complete nightmare location. There is NO way, on a double dog dare, that I would EVER go down this street by myself, at night. I know I can be dramatic, but there is a reason scary movies exist. So, our extremely kind, saint of a cab driver, drives us up to the lot, which was monitored by a Biggest Loser contestant in a very small shack, that I was convinced was an outhouse at one point. He waits for us to get our cars and never even turned the meter on. This guy was and is an amazing human being. Jenny still gave him $60, which will never be enough for what this man did for us.

The moral of the story is this kids: No matter how bad you think your day can get, if you haven't had a gun pulled on you, it's a pretty good day!

New Years Resolutions

Alright, I get it, you need one day a year that you can "start over" and basically try and trick yourself that you're going to be better than you were the day before. I'll admit, I've tried to trick myself year after year, into thinking that I could do something different this year than I have in the past. That maybe, just maybe this year might be THE year for something big to happen to me. So, instead of making my new years resolution, I would like to take a few moments to hate on the biggest new years resolution of all. In letter form.

Dear people who claim that they are going to lose weight and start working out starting the first of the year: i.e. fat people,

I gotta hand it to you, every year you think that you're going to make it past those first two weeks. And for those two weeks, you work really, really REALLY hard to get there. But let me go ahead and tell you how this ends for 90% of you. Jan. 1 you wake up refreshed, you think, no, I'm not going to have that diet soda that I normally inhale on my way into Biscuitville. Today, I'm going to have a nice glass of juice and a bowl of oatmeal. This is the year of the new me. Then, you rip the tags off your brand new workout clothes, and put on your "just out of the box" tennis shoes, and you head out the door, to the gym. And you, and your fellow resolutioners, take up ALL the parking spots at the gym. You also take up most of the equipment and the space in the classes. For the rest of us that attend the gym on a regular basis, these resolutions of yours are completely annoying. For starters, we have to completely change our routine based on the fact that for two weeks you are going to inconvenience our lives. Number 1, the fact that I now have to get to the gym 30 minutes before my scheduled class time, just to make sure I am either at the front of the line, or within enough time to have equipment at my disposal is rough. Number 2, you literally do take up every close parking space to the front door. When it's 32 degrees and my skinny ass has to haul it from the absolute end of the parking lot to the front door, it makes me not want to go. But as the door says, "Know that getting here is half the battle". Why not start your workout early, from the parking lot? Number 3, the gym I go to now is gigantic. I mean, if you take the size of a grocery store and gut it, expand it, and put gym equipment in it, that's my gym. It's huge. And the cardio equipment takes up 50% of it. That's a lot of cardio equipment. So, now you're telling me I have to wait in line to go on an elliptical for 30 minutes?!?!?! That's ridiculous! You know you're really just wasting the $40 a month that it takes to join this gym, right? You are literally only going to be here for a month, MAX. Let me be clear though, I am NOT speaking to the 10% of you out there that will succeed. I would love each and every one of you to keep at it, but I know you won't. Oh, you'll be back. Right around Spring Break time, or before bathing suit season. Thinking that if you workout hard for the next two weeks than the bathing suit, which you bought in a size smaller, will fit. And not only fit, you'll look good in it. Again, these little inconveniences in my life are a bit annoying. I'm sure I do things in your world that you wish I wouldn't. And if you point those out to me, I'll be happy to stop. But until then, if you wouldn't mind just calling a spade a spade and saving me and my fellow regular gym goers the hassle of you starting your New Years resolutions as losing weight, I would really appreciate it. Maybe start by shopping healthier. Maybe walk to the gym. Maybe I'll just start a gym, solely for the people that want to lose weight in January and April and call it New Beginnings. I'll rent out space for those two months and charge and ass load of money, which you'll pay and you can get out of this contract at the end of these months, hassle free. What's not to love about that? At least with my gym, you'll be surrounded by people just like you. The semi-motivated people that will stick with things for a month and get bored because they don't see results like the people on The Biggest Loser. I will say this in closing my letter. I wish you the best of luck with whatever the new year brings, but if you're giving up going to the gym because you're not loosing the weight as fast as you would like, think about how long it took you to gain that. That's some hard work and dedication you put into looking like that. If you put the same effort into getting in shape, the rewards will be out of this world.

I get that I'm not perfect, and I do realize that my, well you know, stinks, but honestly, for my entire life of going to the gym, this has been one of the biggest pet peves of my life. I bet the trainers and the sales staff just smell the fresh meat when they walk in the door. It honestly wouldn't bother me so much, if I didn't have to walk in the cold and the wind. When that blows right through you, forget it. I would rather hang out in my car or in the gym until the next day when it could be possibly warm.

Okay, I'm down off my soapbox now. Gotta find a silver lining around here somewhere. Going to start looking for it :o)

Enjoy the weekend everyone!

Best Year Ever!

So, I'm sure that most bloggers during this week are focusing on their New Years Resolutions or all the things in their lives that they are thankful for and hope to continue to be thankful for for many years to come. And I could do all that, but not today. No, no, today we are focusing on the greatest day of my life. New Years Day, 2011. Although it started kind of rough at 5:45 in the morning, followed by a brief jog to the train station, ten minutes away, it lead to the most amazing time that I could ever describe. Allow me to tell you all about the day. Alarm goes off at 5:45, as I mentioned, but it wasn't like I'd been sleeping at all. No, Laura and I were designated to a very tiny couch with springs that poked you in every place imaginable. And when you moved, the other person physically lifted off the bed. So, when you laid down, that is where you were to stay, for the entire night. This tiny slice of heaven was then followed up by the fact that during the night, my brothers two knuckle head room mates thought it was okay to turn off the heat and allow whatever was happening outside of their rooms to suffer. I didn't know that people actually turned the heat off in the winter. So, on top of the fact that stirring would wake the other person in the bed, you didn't really want to move because the spot you had worked so hard at making warm was now cooling down. All in all, sleeping that night was a luxury I was not afforded, which really sucks more when you add in that the night before I was only allowed 5 hours of sleep before boarding a plane. To say I was sleepy was an understatement. But there was no time for grumpiness this day. We were on a schedule and we had to keep it. However, due to the fact we were so tired, moving quickly was a little difficult. It took us 5 minutes just to thaw out, so we got behind schedule a little bit. Which meant that we had to book it at 6:15 am to make a train by 6:25, because if you missed that train, who knows when we would be leaving. Did I mention that in this process we were delayed a little longer due to the fact that we could not find the $100 bill that Laura had in her purse. Yeah, it was a rough 30 minutes. So, safely on the train for the next hour, we were able to relax and wonder just where we get off this sucker. Oh, and when exactly are we going to eat. As we transfer to our final train, we are greeted by a sea of red and white Wisconsin fans. It wasn't the only way I knew we were going the right way, but it was the moment I started to get annoyed they were there, and in droves! For the next 20 minutes, I'm staring at the map and wondering which stop we need to get off at. We were given no directions and there was no information on the website for the Rose Parade that told us which stop the route started and which stop the route ended. So, I assumed we were following the direction of the route and the beginning would be the last stop. Oh no, that was wrong, so we went one stop too far, had to turn back around, wait for the next train, which took another 10 minutes which now has us at 7:40. Parade starts at 8 and apparently our seats are at the front of it. And they don't stop for two girls that just didn't know where they were going. Finally at our destination, it is 7:45, we have 15 minutes to run 6 blocks up, two blocks over, and three blocks up again. We've been up for 2 hours, slept zero hours and had nothing to eat. We were in bad shape. Not to mention the fact that we had to RUN, RUN, RUN all the way to our seats. Which no one happened to mention was uphill, THE WHOLE WAY. By the time we sat down, at 7:57 we contemplated whether or not this whole thing was a good idea. Let me go on record by saying, YES, absolutely, 100%, no doubt in my mind how awesome it was. Sure it was cold, and by cold, I mean I literally lost feeling in my right foot and left hand. EVEN with hand warmers. They might call it sunny California, but if you are hidden beneath the shade of an orange tree, there might be very few things colder. However, these were our seats!!

Yes, this IS the start of the parade and that IS the NBC tower. I couldn't believe it! Whatever was supposed to happen, happened with us first! I almost felt bad being so tired at that point because I felt I couldn't appreciate what was happening around me to the full extent. So, as float after float passed us and the Wisconsin float passed, we started to anticipate when our amazing TCU float would be making an appearance, when then...

Full disclosure: There are very few things that hype me up as much as anything to do with TCU. I couldn't believe we were actually there! For our beloved Frogs no less. Yes, that is me screaming! I was like a kid at Christmas. AND I was sober, at that point. I probably couldn't have been more excited if I had actually been in the parade. Although the thought did cross my mind to just follow out the ending police cars to get people asking questions who was that crazy lady at the end of the parade, but we had some more walking to do.

As we were sitting at the parade, we were surrounded by locals who were giving us directions as to the easiest way to get to the game. The ticket website told us to take a shuttle, but Marge and her husband Larry (totally made up names) told us just to continue down the road which would take us right to the stadium. My thought was, if these two older people could do it, there is no way that Laura and I would be outwitted. However, huge suggestion of what not to do when figuring out how long it's going to take you, check your GPS on your phone. If you are already tired of walking, hungry enough to eat your travel partner, and tired of seeing red all around, you should probably not walk 1.3 miles to a stadium. Or, if you do check, make sure that the people who have your beer, that you are supposed to be tailgating with, are there, when they say they are going to be. Which ours were not. Here's how this whole thing went down....we leave the parade, text our tail gating buddies. They are "on their way". We are starving, tired, and I have to pee really bad. 10 minutes into our walk, we encounter little angels selling cookies, chips, and soda on the side of the road. I honestly would have given them all the money in my wallet, but they gave you three cookies for a dollar, so why waste the extra?!?!? I realized that I was so hungry that three cookies actually filled me up. So with one obstacle out of the way, we now needed to find a bathroom. Armed with the knowledge that this would not be my first trip to the port-o-jon, I wanted to find somewhere that wasn't too crowed at the moment. Luckily, I think God must have been looking down on me because right outside the stadium was herd of toilets with no one waiting. As I was emptying what seemed to be everything I drank for the past two days, I couldn't help but overhearing the "lovely" Wisconsin fans taunting a TCU fan to take a beer bong hit. Little did I know that this fan was old enough to be my dad, but in the true spirit of the game, the guy took it. I was so proud to be a Horned Frog at that moment. Even when the chips and the population is stacked against us, we still show up. So now, with both issues out of the way, we still don't have our beer. We now head over to the Pizza Slice area because hey, those cookies are going to disappear soon. We decide to forgo the eating, for right now and get right down to business. It's time for a beer. We've walked about 3 miles, ran most of it, who doesn't deserve a beer or two after that. So, we belly up to the bar and order two beers a piece. Why waste the time, honestly? TWENTY DOLLARS LATER we walk away. I would say it's the best $20 I've ever spent, but I really couldn't. The beer was definitely not going to make me stronger, but perhaps invincible. So we start to walk around the little village and notice a sign outside of the Taco Bell truck that said, FREE TACOS. Now you're speaking our language. By this time I'm already through my first 20 ounces of beer and onto the next. By the way, we still don't know where our tailgating friends are and we've been hanging out a good 45 minutes now. So, we continue to walk around until my phone finally tells us the location of tailgate, which happens to be NO WHERE around where we are. So, once again we are off walking. About seven minutes into our journey our white knight pulls up in a golf cart and offers us a ride to closer to where our tail gate is. This guy could not have shown up at a better time. I swear I was close to having bloody stumps at that point. Yes, I had tennis shoes on, but there is honestly only so much walking one girl can do. Oh, by the way, for those of you keeping track at home, it is now noon, and we have only eaten 3 cookies, a free taco and 40 ounces of beer. I am feeling AMAZING! 7 minutes later we arrive at the tailgate. Not much to report here, or that I want to share at this point, but we down about 6 beers a piece in the next hour and a half with only a tiny sandwich roll to eat. So now, we are about 10 beers in, on an empty stomach and heading into the game. As we hit our seats I am bombarded by the overwhelming feeling of having to pee again. I think I can hold it until after kickoff, but you know after you've been drinking, you just think you might actually pee your pants if you don't go at that exact moment. And you also know there is a line about 25 people deep out there and if you don't act now, you might pee in the seats. So, I went....to the bathroom, of course. Luckily I made it in the nick of time before kickoff. However, everyone around us was pounding food. Although I wasn't hungry, I knew we needed to eat something, but we didn't. It was just way too exciting. So, as halftime rolled around, Laura looked at me and told me we needed more beer. I disagreed because I had had enough, but her logic was not flawed and I knew I just had to follow along. Our first stop, the beer tent. So that we could wait in line for food with our beers, of course. As we stood in the MONSTER line, I guess I made friends with the guys in front of us, because the next thing I know, the third quarter is over, and we have two new fresh beers in our hands, nachos and a hot dog. These two wanted to continue to chat, but I wasn't here to make friends. We make it back to our seats for the next, greatest 30 minutes of my life. If you want to know how the game was actually played, you should have seen it on TV, but if you thought my screaming at the parade was a lot, you should have seen my craziness at the end of the game. I was jumping, and screaming, and high fiving EVERYONE around me. I was going NUTS! It's amazing how the Little Sisters of the Blind can over take such a tremendous power house of Wisconsin. No one really thought we could do it, but we did. That stadium had easily 8 fans to our 1 and we still beat them. It was a celebration of celebrations. These might not be the best pictures, but that's all I got on my phone.

It's honestly the little things in life that make the biggest difference. Yes, we had to walk the ENTIRE way back and retrace our entire trip. And yes, in total, I'm sure we walked over 6 miles, drank 14 beers and were up 21 hours. But honestly, I would do it all again the exact same if that last picture held true.

I'm really looking forward to 2011. So far it's been a hell of a year!