Old Friends & Cherry Pie...

NOT THIS CHERRY PIE...

THIS 'CHERRY PIE'...

(This picture was borrowed, for the sake of this non-profit post from Cherry Pie's official website www.cherrypie.org)

So, about a month ago, I get this e-mail (said e-mail has been altered to make it fit here, and to remove actual names. Plus it was in some gigantic font that even I didn't recognize and wasn't very cooperative with the blogger)...

Help the freak celebrate the big 30! Saturday February 25th at Bub’s Irish Pub in Germantown. OTTO will ring in a new milestone in his life in STYLE! My favorite local band “CHERRY PIE” will be playing so DON’T miss it! CANCEL your plans, HIRE a babysitter, SELL your tickets, CHANGE your dinner reservations, MORTGAGE your house, or SELL your plasma if you have to! DON’T miss this. I want an event for the ages! The story of this night will be told for generations. Be a part of HISTORY! We’re gonna party like it’s 1989. Come dressed in your best 80’s attire (you won’t feel out of place). Tell your friends, tell your family, and tell your friends’ family. It’s a public setting so anyone may attend. This is not an invitation; merely information. Bub’s Irish Pub is located on Main St. in Germantown. Directions can be found on Mapquest. No RSVP required and NO GIFTS!! Just show up and have FUN! The show is scheduled to start at 9:30, but you may want to show up semi-early (the parking isn’t great). It will be fun!

The actual e-mail was sent by hubby's best friend, Otto (not his real name...but it fits...you figure that one out!) in regards to his 30th birthday celebration.

Now, hubby and Otto have been friends since like...birth. It's the strangest friendship ever and it's completey surprising to me that it even still is...not that they fight or anything. They're just really in different places in their lives now...but they're still holding on...nothing, not even me, can separate these two yahoos.

[Some backstory...I met hubby, Otto, Carl, Chris, Jeff, Kev, Keith (prev. 3 are actually relatives of mine who I didn't know or meet until just before high school and the latter two are twins), Lee, Steve, Paul and Tim...a close group of friends. Some I met right before I started high school and the rest was shortly into the first month of high school because I already knew the others. They were a tight knit group and I got sucked in, one of only two girls (other than Chris' older sister, Jen) allowed to infiltrate the system and be equal...and I am now the only original girl left in this pack (other than Jen) having survived a lot with them over the last 13 years. In this time, there have been feuds, marriages, divorces...people retiring to their nuetral corners for years at a time since the high school days...we're not a tight group anymore. I think Carl, Tim (I do still see him from time to time though), and Lee have been completely outted from the group, Paul moved to Scotland his junior year of high school (I was a Sophomore then) most of the former boys now have children (few have just child). Everyon'es a grown-up now and sometimes sticking together is a little harder than anyone ever thought it would be. Obviously, I see Otto...he is hubby's best friend...and he's easier to take now that I've finally gotten him to get rid of the mullet...of course he does wear make-up and leather pants quite often now). But literally, the others I haven't seen in years...since the last Cherry Pie outting, and that was just a few of them and that night did not really end well...and rest I've seen at like Walmart...four years ago!]

Good Ol' Otto was really askin' a lot...especially since we are a really dysfunctional group now that we're all older...like I said, not so tight-knit anymore...So, here's how this went...

Hubby and I spent very nearly all last week not together and not speaking to each other. Don't be alarmed, we do this a lot. We fight for weeks at a time and nothing ever really gets resolved...it's more like it just fades out until it's time for the next brawl. This is how we function. It's well known. We are an explosive couple, and both of us are really stubborn with really bad tempers.

Friday was pretty much the culmination of this latest battle royal. We were both drunk. It wasn't good, but like I said, it ended like it generally does and we're ok for now...And then it was Saturday, Otto's 30th birthday, the day of 'Cherry Pie'...

I got up...way too early it being a Saturday and all and so did hubby, both with hangover remnants (I had a headache and was tired and hubby had a sour stomach since he usually mixes liquor with stupid shit like jalepenos. I threw on a hoodie and some jeans, which were too big due to the gigantic weight loss (no, I have not managed to put any of the weight back on which means I'm generally just freezing my ass off). I figured since I have sort of a love/hate relationship with Otto and have been harassing him about his love for 'Cherry Pie' for a couple years now, I could just wear that to the show and save myself the time and trouble of finding something else to wear.

We had some bullshit errands to run like get the truck washed and the oil changed and take some paperwork to the tax woman...

Tax Woman Story...which makes me a total asshole: The woman that does our taxes is hubby's friend Bear's mother-in-law. She is a perfectly wonderful lady, probably in her late fifites, early sixties and last year when I saw her for the tax fiasco, she had a mullet. Not only that, but she also lives in a trailer. I have nothing against people who live in trailers...although, I do have plenty of mullet issues. Anyway, hubby recently took her most of the paperwork she needed for the taxes and while they were talking, she told him that she had cancer and was going through chemo. This sucks. So, Saturday, when we went out there to take her some more paperwork she ended up needing, hubby went in and came back out and said she now had a wig on. The first thing out of my mouth (here's the part that make me an asshole...drum roll please...)..."Is it a mullet wig?". It's not funny. I know that, and so does hubby, but we both cracked up laughing. Of course, later I was talking to BEG about the tax lady and basically she said the same thing, so I don't feel so bad about it anymore.

Somewhere, in the midst of errands, I started to feel better and decided that I probably should buy something new to wear to 'Cherry Pie'. I mentioned the words 'BLACK' and 'Slinky' and hubby's eyes went all googley and we set off for the mall. At the mall, it was 'live model' day which is the most hilarious shit ever. There were many, young girls in windows taking a lot of harassment. There was a lot of laughter and a big guy just screwing with the girls in the window at DEB...I should probably mention that of all the live models in the mall, DEB had the less than good ones...you know, the ones that aren't really cut out for modeling.

Anyway, with hubby and not a girlfriend helping me pick out something to wear, you can pretty much guess what kind of smutty attire I ended up with and just how little of it there actually was...

Toxic Jeans: They're awesome. They fit well and they're super comfy. Buy lots!!! They come with their own sand paper....

Anyway, so I was a little skanky and definitely far away from my usual jeans&hoodie combo. We live like an hour away from the bar where 'Cherry Pie' was playing so we ate dinner and piled into the truck at like 8pm, on our way into the unknown...sometimes these group outtings end well and sometimes they don't...

Seeing as how we were both still tired and not feeling so great and haven't really hung out with many of the people we expected to see there in like years as mentioned previously, we formulated a plan. Neither of us were going to drink excessively...I wasn't going to drink at all (it's not really my thing anyway) and we were going to leave around midnight for home...this is not exactly how it went...

It was like exactly 9pm when we got there and then it took like a millenia to locate a place to park the huge truck which makes parking problematic on it's own on a normal day. Otto wasn't lying when he said the parking was sucky. We ended up on a side street like five blocks away. Apparently all Germantown has to offer on a weekend is a strip of bars and little or no place to park. Maybe they're trying to force people into car-pooling or the designated driver thing. Whatever!

We paid the cover charge, got inside and started hunting for familiar faces, first finding Jen (Chris' older sister) and Rachel (Chris' wife of about six months whom I hadn't ever met since theirs was a wedding I decided to skip for reasons I won't be sharing here. I will say though that no one should just settle). They were all decked out in their eighties gear, which included LA Gear and they both closely resembled Debbie Gibson, poofy bangs and all.

Then I saw Steve, who used to be my 'adopted twin brother' and whom was the last of the folks that have been seen in passing at Walmart. After that and some liquor, more had arrived (the group has newbies and is quite a lot larger now) and we all started falling back into the old swing of things. It basically turned out like none of us had ever been apart and especially not as long as we all had been. Otto was definitely having a good 30th birthday.

I was pretty happy, having always been the youngest of this bunch, to find that I am no longer the baby in the group. Someone else is much younger and it was sort of not-so legal for him to have even been in the bar...but that's all I'm sayin' about that. He wasn't drinking so I don't know that it was a terrible thing he was there.

Jen and I pretty much camped out with Otto on the dance floor, asses shaking, singing and screaming at the top of our lungs to 'Cherry Pie' waxing Poison, Warrant and other hairbands of late...not that we were the only ones...'Cherry Pie' has a pretty big following. And to everyone's complete surprise, their was only one instance of a breast escaping from my practically non-existant shirt and that really only ended in my flashing Jenna (a new edition to our group, currently cheating on her boyfriend part of the group with another member of the group-Oh, the drama!).

I gave a little speech/toast for Otto on his 30th, which basically was something to the effect of, "I stopped fondling my mouse and keyboard...put on practically nothing and came out to call you and dirty, old man..." Of course this was then followed by Jen (She is the eldest in the group, already well-passed thirty) giving hubby a lecture about letting me out of the house dressed like I was. She was drinking quite heavily as we all resorted to this sort of behavior, so it didn't take her too long to get over it and rock on!

'Cherry Pie' was awesome! They have greatly improved since the last time I saw them and have since replaced their drummer. All in all it was great, old school fun with old school friends! There was only one instance of one of us getting in another of us's face for being a dick (not sayin' who) and after a while and some more liquor, it really didn't matter that so-and-so had resorted to his evil, back-stabbing bullshit ways! So-and-so is such a girl (but really a man).

It was also the first time I had ever seen the men desert the men's bathroom and get in line with the ladies. I can only imagine what kind of tragic disaster took place in the men's to get them to flee and wait in a line that just continued to grow longer and longer as the night went on. It was nearly impossible to pee...but then on the flipside, it was also really busy and nearly impossible to get a drink at the bar (hubby went on many solo missions to bar from which he took a long time to return).

The original plan having been totally blown all to hell and all of us either mostly drunk or unable to walk a straight line, hubby, me and Jen hopped in the truck, freezing our asses off and abandoning Jen's car, and we drove her home, where she promptly vomitted in the kitchen sink. Poor girl! Hubby and I then booked back to Racine and to the Taco Bell, getting in the longest line I've ever seen at a Taco Bell. Got home, chowed and crashed out.

Yesterday, hubby laid on the couch like a veal for most of the day, watching the Nascar race...mostly because he had spent Saturday night head-banging and what not and couldn't hold his head up too good. I was without hangover, but was still pretty tired. We did go out to fetch some stuff and hubby bought me this...

...returning me back to my geek-girlness, safely returning me to my sci-fi love and my pc, like I had been some kind of trampy Cinderella the night before.

All in all it was pretty fun. My throat was sore, I smoked too much and I had a funny pain in my heel from the heel of the boot I wore to the show. Apparently I stepped too hard on it at some point in the night 'cause all day yesterday I could feel it like I still had the boot on. I got back in touch with a lot of folks I hadn't seen in quite a while and got to relive some younger day silliness. I also got to remember why we were all friends in the first place.

Plus I got to wear my leopard print, pimp coat!

Space: Junkie & Beyond...

And Perhaps Pusher...

So, yesterday I went out to fetch stuff like a pack mule (the truck was full and I had to haul everything by myself) and was also in search of non-residue window cling sheets for the printer. I couldn't seem to find them anywhere. Is no one carrying this sort of thing anymore? The ones currently in the windows to break the sunlight don't match the room anymore and it's really got me buggin'!

I tried Target, Wal-mart (where they were purchased last time, a year ago and where I got to spend some time with the old folks Wednesday patrol...the stores are theirs until the bus loads 'em back up!) and came up with nothing. I got back into the car with my stuffs, most of which I hadn't intended to buy, but then again a girl like me can never just walk past a rack of new hoodies and not buy at least three. I sat in the truck and smoked a cigarette trying to think of other places I might be able to get the window cling sheets. It took a while for me to formulate that Best Buy should be my next destination (I hadn't been there in a while), but luckily there were some good tunes on the radio...which leads to the first trauma, or second if we're counting the lack of window-cling stuff...

I pull out of the parking lot and was rockin' out to the radio and then suddenly there were sirens...

Yes, folks. I was pulled over...again. The funny part of this was that I was essentially pulled over becuase I was rockin' out too hard (Apparently this is suspicious behavior at 11 am on a Wednesday morning...I assume the loudness of my steroe was just preventing him from enjoying his donuts!). For this I reasoned that when the radio plays something like It's the End of the World as We Know It (This was then followed by Weezer's Beverly Hills), one must crank it up, sing loud and off-key and rock hardcore! Mr. Officer man was not amused. I thought it was awefully hilarious that I had been pulled over for rockin' hard...on my way to Best Buy...where I could just fill the car with music and rock even harder. I was let go with a warning...like this has never happened before!

So, I get to Best Buy (a store I should never be allowed in alone with a checkbook/credit card under any circumstances. I go in for the most innocent reason, but once I get inside something always derails me and I end up losing my mind) and it was like a ghost town...it being like 11 am on a Wednesday morning and all. There, I found that they now only sell photo paper and regular printer paper (this would be where the derailing comes in). The bastards!

Following tradition, I lost my mind and started poking around. Just me and the boys in the Sci-fi DVD section and then me and the boys in Sci-Fi TV on DVD section. Literally, it was me and like five boys between the ages of 18 and 22 traveling about the DVD section like a pack of gypsies. There was plenty of chatting, and giggling (on my part...this is why boys like me...I have actul evidence of this...I'm always so happy!) and also many recommendations.

I ended up with 'Space: Above and Beyond' the complete series, all 23 episodes in my hand. I was just looking at it, but then again, got derailed when one of the boys finally managed to locate what he was looking for and we all had to do a happy dance and praise the Best Buy and their merchandise. Then I bid farewell to the boys and moved along with my Best Buy experience and with 'Space: Above and Beyond' still in my hand.

I picked up a couple other things ('Dead Like Me' seasons 1 & 2 and the movie Kingdom of Heaven 'cause lets face it, I'll watch just about anything Orlando Bloom shows up in. He could do a cameo at the local DMV and I'd get in line) and ended up, accidentally also purchasing 'Space: Aboce and Beyond' a show which I knew nothing about (seeing as how it was on in 1995/1996. I was younger then and had better things to do with my free time) but was highly recommended by the boy sqaud I was wandering with.

I literally didn't even realize I had it until I got home (a path that was driven proper and just above the speed limit with the radio at a decent volume as to avoid getting stopped again). I carried all my shit in and was looking through the stuff got from Best Buy it being the most important bag and all and bright yellow. And there it was...taunting me.

Watch me! Watch me! Watch me! Shirk responsiblity and just stick me in the DVD player (if you can find a spot...it's pretty full). I refrained though.

Instead, I e-mailed BEG, my sci-fi geek girl guru to ask her if she'd seen it or if she even knew anything about it. She was the same age as me when it was on so I wasn't sure...but then again, she is my sci-fi geek girl guru. She is the one responsible for my 'Firefly/Serenity' addiction and mostly anything Joss Whedon has layed his golden fingers upon (maybe we should just worship JW instead of JP...but then again, JP does travel with a baseball bat...I don't imagine Joss does).

She got back to me basically telling me she had never heard anything about it and I should probably just return it and get my money back. I was still unsure and left the box of DVDs on the coffee table to taunt me for the rest of the afternoon.

I tried to work on our own sci-fi TV show...a work in progress and now temporarily hindered by my coming and going writer's block and sudden urge to check out 1995/1996's version of scace via 'Space: Above and Beyond'. What a day, filled with tiring resistance and then complete and utter surrender to the box which contained all 23 episodes...

So, I started watching...and didn't stop for the whole first side of the disc. By the end of side A, which had the first four hours of the show, I had realized a few things...It was 1995/1996...space...was a cheesey thing back then, so most of the actual space action is one big cracker and spread fest...tastey though. Also, the show seemed to be some kind of space soap opera (this is bad for a girl who loves sci-fi and whom was recently put back in touch with the going-ons of 'General Hospital' since they have now gotten to the end all be all of perfect GH coupling...Sonny Corinthos and Emily Bowen Quartermaine!) and I will watch just about anything that involves sexual tension between a brooder with a serious chip on his shoulder and strong convictions and a chick with her own special issues (Hence the Sonny Corinthos/Emily Qaurtermain thing and my love for 'Firefly')!

At this point, I was completely sucked in and had to forgo my issues with the cheese of space and future and had to flip the disc to watch the last two eps of the first disc (Plus, I needed to know if Hawkes was ever gonna nail Vansen). Luckily, flipping the disc for me really only means that I had to push a button on the remote and wait for it to start...but the time seemed endless, waiting to find out what the hell will become of Vansen (Kristen Cloke, famed by playing Ms. Lewton in the first of the three Final Destination movies), West (I have never seen this guy before...must not be getting too much work these days) and Hawkes (Rodney Rowland...completely adorable). But then it finally started and I was once again appeased by space drama (I swear, in the future, everyone has a chip on their shoulder).

3 Main Characters...West, Vansen and Hawkes. Pic taken from The Wikipedia

This show, for what it was, in the time frame it was made was brilliant. They're fightin' all the time against two different enemies. They have a traitor to his own kind in their midst, brainwashed for what he is. And this really adorable, feisty guy...

Roddy Rowland...hmmm!

Where is this guy hiding now? He definitely needs more work. I bet he's even tastier now that he's had time to age another decade. I swear, if our show ever pans out, we're gettin' this guy even if I gotta write a special part just for him so he can yell and be feisty and shady and buck the system! Wooo!

So, it seems there isn't a spacey show I can't pass up. I'm a junkie. But I suppose there are worse things on I could be addicted to than sci-fi. American Idol comes to mind, but thank JP, I have little or no interest in other than the initial auditions 'cause I like to watch people suffer. It makes me laugh. And then there is the notion I have to fuck Simon Cowell just to see what he'd say afterwards (yes, I am that brave).

Later, I will resume my tour of 1995/1996's idea of the year 2063 and all it's dramatic and sketchy goodness. And I will also try to fight BEG's urge to run out and purchase Farscape (this is a show I haven't gotten into yet, but seems she loves it).

And soon, when I see BEG, I will play the part of pusher. Oh, yeah, girl, it's my turn. So get ready! Hubby isn't gonna be safe from this one either!

Strange Love...

Or Alternately, Why Does My Dog Love Tyra Banks???

This is a story of a love stranger than that of Foofy-Woofy Flava Flav and Gita...

So, when I get up in the morning, I usually turn on the TV (Not strange at all. I imagine many folks do this.) and if Headline News, which is the channel that goes on when the TV goes on, doesn't have anything entertaining on, I change it to VH1. Often times when they stop playing the very few over-hyped music videos that they actually play, I am already totally involved in something and I forget to change the channel. Since I continue to not really pay attention or do but don't have time to take care of it...ever, VH1 ends up staying on the TV until like 2 in the afternoon when I habitually change to The Hallmark Channel to watch back-to-back episodes of 'Little House The Prairie' (This is a whole different weirdness I don't really want to talk about right now).

If this was your FX, or TNT or even Hallmark kind of channel, this wouldn't present such a problem...well, not even problem, really, just immense strangeness between my 18 month old Golden Retriever, Angus and one, Tyra 'Big Boobs' Banks. Those channels at least play ancient mundane TV and seriously, sappy crap movies...I swear there's a new Hallmark Channel original movie every twenty seconds or so...and none of them, if you can imagine this, are original...or still better, believable. But still, 'Murder She Wrote' and nine hours of 'Mash' everyday aren't going to hurt anyone.

VH1 on the other hand plays things like 'Celebrity Fit Club 3' for like an hour a day where you can Young MC and Chastity Bono work together to sheds some serious poundage and mock Gunner Nelson (Or alternately watch Gunner freak out about getting what was basically a hair trimming), and 'Inside Out - Kimora Lee Simmons' where you can watch Russell and Kimora Lee Simmons little girls Ming and Ioke do things like throw away expensive silverware because they have absolutely no concept of what things are worth because their parents give them everything they want when they want it...and pick their noses.

I have no problems with either of these shows or any of the many other like them aired on VH1. I find them both to be quite entertaining. Although, I do sometimes wonder why they haven't gotten that one guy whose left from Milli Vanilli and someone like...Leif Garrett to do a show where they live together, all odd couple style. Why haven't they given Leif Garrett a show yet? That man is money in the bank. And I still have yet to see 'Remaking Donny Osmond' (Isn't it just about time for him to try to make another come back all Soldier of Love style), but this is not the point!

Strangely though, and I don't have a problem with this show either (I can ignore anything), they will also play all-day marathons of 'America's Next Top Model'. This means hour after hour of half naked girls prancing around supposedly for a future modeling contract with Tyra 'HOLY HOOTERS!!!' Banks as their ringmaster. Herein lies the immense strangeness that I have been charting.

Such days when they play this show, like the last two days for instance, start out like any other day - Dogs runningin amok and making a lot of noise to a VH1 soudtrack filled with a little Beyonce and a whole lot of hawking their 'You Oughta Know' Artists to the point you buy said artists CD just to get the songs out of your head. It's like mind control...well, it is mind control...until it's time for the spree of Tyra and her boobs to begin. As soon as it starts, Angus stops whatever psyhotic-puppy activity he's invovled in, crawls up on the couch and actually watches the entire marathon from beginning to end (Or until 2 pm when 'Little House' is on) and does not move. No, I have witnessed this enough times to know, he is not sleeping.

Not only does he watch Tyra and knockers, he occasionally salivates a gigantic puddle where he lays, tongue hanging out of mouth and howls at the big TV as though he is serenading her with romantic, nails-on-the-chalk-board style, puppy crooning.

Now, let me tell you, this dog is generally nothing but energy and naughty all day, but as soon as Tyra pops up on the screen he is all about the trance state. He gets all googley-eyed and quiet like Tyra is his guru or some shit like that.

I have no troubles with this...except for the fact that I hear a lot of things like Janis Dickinson making her self out to be more than she is or ever was. In fact, I enjoy the fact that Tyra makes a good puppy-sitter. I just don't understand it.

Why does the dog love Tyra so? Why does this only work with her on 'America's Next Top Model'? Why doesn't her talk show affect him in the same way? I just don't get it!

Is it the fact that she barely wears anything? Or the fact that she seems to constantly be over-reacting to everything, or over-acting as it probably really is? She is quite the drama-queen, but I guess some people will do anything to make a buck (look at Anna Farris' career).

It's actually gotten to the point now where he reacts to her hearing her name. I say 'Tyra' and he tilts his head the same way he does when I say 'Peanut Butter', which is the thing he loves most in the world. Is Tyra just as good as peanut butter? Is she just as nutty?

Arrrgh!

The Eve of The Daytona 500...

And Why Turning Left and Going in a Cirlce Isn't Really a Sport...

So, here we are on the eve of Nascar Nextel Cup's very first real race, the Daytona 500. Yes, I know this crap has been going on for the last week or so with all the time trials and qualifying and some small obnoxious and mostly irrelevant races and practices. I'm not your standard moron. However, I am a child of a family obsessed with auto-racing and happened to have married a fan.

I have been tortured with this red-neck so-called sport my entire life. My grandfather, now deceased, but mostly responsible worked pit crew and sometimes fire safety at the now called 'Milwaukee Mile' which I don't even think the Nextel guys even race at...ever. My mother grew up with people like Kyle Petty, Alan Kulwiki and Davey Allison (yes, I also know the latter two are dead. I actually went to one of their funerals. And the third, still living, should...go away...or at the very least, get a friggin' haircut).

I have never understood the fascination. I don't get it. It must be a girl thing...however, my mother is a really big race fan...so I don't really know. For the love of JP, even BEG's cat Schmutz is a Nascar fan, pawing the TV when she sees Jimmy Johnson...like she really knows who he is and follows his career, like a human.

Anyone can drive in a circle and turn left...or right depending on which race it is...but it's generally a left thing and the win generally goes to one of four or five hick idiots who couldn't get a clean word out of their mouth if their life depended on it (Seriously, one needs a Ward Burton to English dictionary to understand anything that comes out of this man's mouth along with a wet-nap to clean away the amount of saliva he flings forth when speaking). It's even easier to do this in the case of the restricter plate when everyone is basically starting from the same point. I don't see this as a sport since it's mostly based on chance and the only real danger is one of those red-neck farm boys dying in a fiery car-wreck. It's not like any one of them couldn't have died in a horrendous tractor accident...or something involving a combine.

I can follow it, for the most part...it is a little trickier to keep track of things now that Nextel seems to change the rules every ten seconds. I understand 'The Big Red Trailer' which I actually think is yellow now, Tony Stewart's thug ways (he's such a mook) and can for the most part tell you which driver is which from hearing them talk (here we are, right back at Ward Burton) or from seeing them on the screen.

Hell, I even have a driver to root for...Hermie Sadler. Of course, he never wins and most of the time doesn't even make it into the race, but at least I try. Plus, he used to drive the pink Zapf Doll car, which as a doll-maker and collector (yes, I know this is such a ridiculous girly thing for me to do, but hey, I am a girl and all) and that's just adorable. A grown man driving left in a circle in a pink car. Plus he's sort of workin' a Casey Affleck kind of appeal to me.

This is all from years and years of Sunday afternoons spent with this crap blaring on one TV or another in various locations. I never intentionally learned anything about Nascar, in fact, clearly I am not even a fan and am mostly against the entire idea of this so-called sport.

So, seeing as how tomorrow is 'the big kick-off' to a whole new set of rules (changed by the lovely folks at Nextel, of course) that I don't even understand, I decided I would put forth my list of things that would make Nascar more of sport/challenge and make it way more entertaining for those of us who now have trouble following Nextel's ridiculous changes...or just more entertaining in general...

#1 - Snakes on the track...

BTW: This picture really seems to get around seeing as how I found it on like 12 different blogs.

Put some snakes on the track, really really mean, hungry ones. They don't even have to be poisonous...just really slithery and evil and possible crafty enough to attack pit crews. Hell, why not just put them in the pits...the drivers are supposed to slow down anyway...

Plus, signs like this make the track more entertaining to read.

#2 - Hot, Flowing Lava...

Open the floodgates and let the lava flow. By all means, build a track in Hawaii. These boys have life way too easy. They don't have enough obstacles. Plus this would also mean more tire changes and more chances for footage of pit cew guys battling really mean, hungry snakes.

#3 - Tire Damaging Spikes and Nails...

Adding spikes like the ones pictured above, a variety of nails and screws and maybe even some of those wrong-way tire slashers you find at airports and stuff would mean more wrecked cars and wrecked tires. Fun for the whole family and again, more chances to see the crews fighting snakes in the pits.

#4 - Oil Slicks...

Pour some Penzoil or Mobil on the track and take in all the slip-slidin' action. Hell, this could turn into the official slip n' slide of Nascar, which is just fine cause it means more money and they seem to have an official 'one' of everything.

#5 - Snipers...

Snipers hiding in the bush and in the stands, shooting at the drivers. This would be like a CNN junkie's dream come true. Who doesn't want to see your weasel-faced Gordon types dodging sniper bullets for the win? I know I do.

#6 - Hitchhikers & Hop-Ons...

Toss in some people trying to get somewhere or people who just want an easy free ride and viola! you have 'Extreme Hitchhiking'...a whole new sport to capitalize on. Plus I think it would be hilarious to see someone try to jump onto car going upwards of two hundred miles an hour. Just remember to hang on tight!

#7 - Chinese Fire Drills...

I think the drivers should be required to get out of the car every...seventeeth lap and run around the car. Commotion! Commotion! Commotion! Alternately it would also be hilarious if they had to get out and swap cars at random. Since no one seems to have any clue what's going on anyway, does it really matter if Earnhardt Jr. is in the #8 car or not? Let someone else take the burden of a famous father for a few laps...it's not like they take that long anyway.

There are, of course, many other possibilities. These are obviously just a few. Stand-up comic Kathleen Madigan who is hilarious, has suggested in the past that they move the beer stands to the infield so spectators can see the drunks trying to cross the track to get beer. I'm right there with that plan also. Makes it more fun for the fans, really gets them involved.

So, for now, I say farewell, so I can compose a list of things I'd rather be doing tomorrow than watching the race and for many, many Sundays after that. Fans, I hope it's a thriller and non-fans, I'm so sorry you have to endure this holy day torture. Lata - K

I Saw the Light...

And it hurt my eyes!

New glasses, and of course what's left of the terrible pink hair.

So, after putting it off for like six years or so, I finally got around to getting new glasses (as seen above). I know, I slack. Anyone I know can tell you this. There's always something more entertaining to do that get an eye exam and pick out new spectacles.

Here's how it went...Hubby got up on Saturday morning and shortly after, he decided he was going to do the dishes. I had no problem with this since I hate washing dishes. It's like the bane of my existence.

He walked into the kitchen and ran into the kitchen table. After that he proceeded to throw down his badly scratched two year old glasses and went on a tyrade about how we were both getting new glasses and that was going to be the end of that. I found this behavior quite adorable since he is usually not this decisive.

So, we set out to get eye exams and glasses. This did not go well. Apparently everyone wants to do these two things around this time of the year and no one had openings in their schedules...not even Walmart. We ended up at Stein Optical in Kenosha (Like a 30 minute drive from where we live), but they only had one open appointment, not that they seemed to have any other customers the entire time we were there, except for one guy who just came in to pick out new glasses. Anyway, hubby insisted that I take the appointment since my glasses were older and because he had dragged me into this anyway.

I thought that he should take it since his glasses, although only two years old and he is technically right on schedule so far as glasses are concerned. Let's just say that my six year old glasses and their plastic sunglasses clip faired quite a lot better with only two small scratches which were not even in my line of sight than his two year old glasses. You couldn't even see through his that's how bad they were scratched up. This was followed by a brief argument and then my eye exam, which was technically incomplete because one of their machines was broken.

New sunglasses, which are a cranberry color, not that you can tell in the picture.

My eyes actually improved, which is why my old glasses had recently started to bother me. So I picked out new glasses and sunglasses, which I just picked up this morning. Yes, I know this is not good Valentine's Day activity, but whatever. I'm boycotting this year I think. And will apparently spend the rest of the day adjusting to my new lenses since they are quite a bit different than the old prescription.

I also did some other shopping and errands, like picking up the first season of 'Grey's Anatomy' which came out on DVD today and was on sale at Walmart. I've literally only seen the last two eps and find the show to be rather involving...much like LOST. So I had to know what went on in the first season since I'm all sucked in by Dr. McDreamy now.

Like Sayin' Rabies is Better Than Botulism...

So, after the chaos of being literally locked in the house all day yesterday, me and the pups were pretty worn by the time hubby finally got home and unlocked the door. Jezebelle went outside immediately and refused to come in for quite a while. Angus, as per usual played outside with her but didn't really seem to care either way.

It's not very likely he knew he was locked in. He's a dog. How much can he possibly understand.

After playing outside, they came in and were pretty mellow. Eventually, they both passed out on the couch with hubby watching 'Top Gear', which is a show I just get the point of, but after the day I had listening to Belle bark at the back door, I was just happy for the quiet time to finish up work on the design for BEG's quillow. The quiet was soon to be disturbed though, and by a most hilarious statement made by hubby.

He says, "Khrys, look at this." So I turn my desk chair around and see the Belle is all curled up at the end of the couch. She is totally passed out. Hubby then cuddles her and says...

"Oh Belle, your just like a daughter we have to take care of."

I immediately started laughing. She's like a daughter we have to take care of? What does he think one does with a real daughter? The word daughter sort of implies parents, which implies parenting and thus 'taking care of'.

He was all, "You know what I meant." I declared that I apparently did not, but then again it had been a long day thus far and it was possible that my brain wasn't functioning all that well. I decided to stick to my guns though.

So, what does hubby do? He decides to bust out the well known theory that I have been passing on for years...If I had kids, I would leave them at a bus station. He does this because he thinks he will at least come out even. He thinks that I say this because I am just as clueless as he is when it comes to what to do with a kid. But he still has no idea what he's talking about.

I have no parental skills. I don't want children. I'm not good with them. I know this. I was actually told by a teacher in high school after having taken a child development class for the easy A, that I was going to be a very bad mother (not a Bad Mutha like SHAFT). Needless to say, I did not get the easy A I was looking for in that class. After taking home the mechanical recorder doll and tossing it in the closet for a whole weekend, I didn't even pass the class.

It was just a doll. I knew that then. It didn't matter to me...this is why it ended up in the closet. The idea of leaving them at a bus station with some money would be in the hopes that they would find a better life with someone more suited to be a parent, not because I couldn't raise a child if I had to.

Keep in mind this is all hypothetical. Don't get your panties in a bunch. I have no children and there are no plans for them ever. There's also plenty of birth control in my life to prevent such an occurance. Plus, if there ever was a child, I swear on a stack of...DVD boxes to the movie Eight Heads in a Duffel Bag (I worship Pesci, remember. Not God) that I know better and would not actual leave said child/children at the bus station.

It's just a joke. It's funny. Ha! Ha! Ha! He still thinks he can use this against me though.

I explain to him...once again, how retarded he is...or at the very least how misguided he is. But he declares he would be a better parent than I would be.

Was I supposed to laugh at that. Neither one of us are suited to be in charge of tiny humans. We can barely handle the dogs and cats running amok around the house...and the house is gigantic. Plus, hubby likes his toys way too much. I like my freedom and what little sanity I have left in my possession. His saying he would be a better parent is pretty much be like saying rabies is better than botulism!

Needless to say, this debate did not end last night...and it'll probably never end, seeing as how there won't actually be children to test this on. Damned hypotheticals!

There's No Escape...

So, this was supposed to be a very hilarious and entertaining post about my colored pencils and how I was recently convinced that gobblins were stealing them and chewing on them, and how I actually went out to the store last night with a list that had on it, 'Colored Pencils...That Don't Suck'. But now, instead, and much to my dismay, we're gonna chat about how I am literally locked in my house!

First off, yesterday we had a freak snowstorm that out of nowhere, dropped five inches on the ground. In my neighborhood this is quite terrifying since they don't bother to plow or salt and almost everyone in my city drives like a maniac. It was also garbage day yesterday, which didn't help. The lack of helping was noticed around the time the garbage truck slid (I didn't really think this was possible) and hit a little red car down near the corner. Then Shortleash, who drives a large Dodge missed his driveway while sliding and ended up parking his truck angerily and mostly on his neighbor's front lawn. Sammy got his car stuck down at the corner and was pushed away by Zack in his UPS truck. Sammy was apparently having a liquor and lottery ticket emergency.

I was supposed to go out and get hubby a lottery ticket, amongst other things, but I decided against it around the time the garbage truck hit the car. I decided the lottery was not worth dying over. BEG backed me up on this notion.

So instead, I hung out and designed quillows (a quillow is a quilt that folds into a pillow for all who don't know), which would be where the graph paper and colored pencils came into play. I would rather take the time/waste the time drawing the patterns up than spend all the time working on the actual product only to find out that I hate it in the end. But there I am with the logic.

I couldn't find my ancient colored pencils and was convinced that they had been stolen by gobblins. I did eventually find them though and found also that they are all crappy and brittle and chewed up. Like I said, they're ancient. So I put 'Colored Pencils...That Don't Suck' on the list of things to get at the store when hubby and the gigantic truck came home to get me there safely.

He got home, very early no less and we departed for the bank and the store. We found that literally it had only snowed as much as it did in the city and harldy at all outside of it. Damned lake effect weather!

All errands were completed, including the purchasing of lottery tickets and colored pencils that don't suck. I also got more graph paper on which they have changed the color of the lines from blue to green and this is really irking me. I imagine I'll get over it though.

...That Don't Suck!

So, this brings us to this morning when I woke to find that I had literally been locked in the house by hubby, who claims he accidentally stuck my keys in his pocket and left. He has my house keys and my car keys...and is more capable of losing them than anyone else I've ever met.

Exhibit A: The Locked Deadbolt

This probalby doesn't seem problematic to anyone, except I have one of those deadbolts as seen just above, that has a lock on both sides and thus the door cannot be opened...especially since hubby also has the spare key, having given his to one of his friends (now in Indiana) many moons ago when he was staying here. Keep in mind that when hubby and his brother installed said deadbolt, I declared it would be problematic. I was right. They should have listened to me.

So, the backdoor is locked...and will not open again until hubby returns with all the keys...if he returns with all the keys.

Hey Look! There's my car! Too bad it's outside!

The not having car keys thing really isn't such a big deal. I really didn't have any plans to go anywhere today, having completed all my errands and shopping last night, but the door thing is a serious pain in the tookis seeing as how we have dogs and they need to go out every now and again.

Fortunately, this is my house and there is another way out that doesn't involve the backdoor or putting the dogs on their leashes (which they are not fond of) and making them pee in the front yard (which they refuse to do). Alternate route is also something the little one seems to not enjoy though.

Alternate route involves going down and through the basement, up a different set of stairs into the rec room and out that door, which apparently is the route the dogs will be taking all day, much to their dislike. Well, Angus doesn't much care, but then again he doesn't much care about anything other than his rawhide. Jezebelle on the other hand is losing her mind since the basement steps are very steep and she knows she's not supposed to be down there. Needless to say, she was carried down after being chased around the first floor for ten minutes of freaking out and then carried back up after she was outside.

Hubby has been called numerous times and yelled at, but BEG, being sub wife and all, if you want to yell about this, you know where to find him later, since I know you'll be just as pissed about this as I am.

After the dogs going outside catastrophe, I tried to calm down and check my e-mail. This activity only led to my PC telling me that my network cable was unplugged numerous times. It was not. The PC was lying or confused. After some poking around, I found that my router is totally thrashed and no longer functions. It has now been bypassed and internet activity resumes as normal, as does quillow design since none that I did yesterday met my high standardss...and it's not like I have anything better to do.

Also, we did not win the lottery! Surprise, surprise!

The Hair Catastrophe of POST 50...

Or Why You Shouldn't Trust Hot Topic Employees...

Not a happy camper...

So, at the suggestion of Sin (Yes, this is what I call you cause it's easier than trying to pronounce all those 1's you got in there.) I decided that my hair should be pink and I set out to find Manic Panic hair dye. This was no easy feat to begin with.

First, I am 26 and 1/2 years old and have not touched MP in like a decade, having switched to an actual hair-dresser to have my hair dyed bizarrely...and well. Secondly, I live in a very black-oriented area...I would imagine the dark folk have no need for Manic Panic...not when they can just buy funky colored hair and have it weaved in (Most of the women in my neighborhood are black and have very short hair for this very reason). Third, there was a lot of guff from hubby who thinks wanting to dye my hair pink is my way of rebelling against something (This was the same guff I got last weekend when I decided I should be blonde).

Let me tell ya, I have nothing to rebel against anymore. I rebelled enough in my younger days and have very much earned my freedom from the norm. I have actually prepared a list of reasons to give him now whenever he thinks I'm doing something to be rebellious.

Anyway, I couldn't seem to locate Manic Panic in my general area and was about to give up when hubby decided he wanted to go to the mall/Sears for an air hammer. I decided it would be the perfect opportunity to see if the Hot Topic had Manic Panic (I thought they did, but couldn't remember and then their website wasn't working for the most part so I still couldn't really figure it out).

So, we head out to the mall. Sears did not have an air hammer good enough for hubby and this made him angrier than it should have, but then again, he does have a tendency to stress out and overreact to damned near everything that isn't going exactly the way he wanted it to. I declared 'Hot Topic' and we fled Sears in search of the dark hovel where I have spent much money (enough for them to get more and better lighting...not that they have). We get there and HT Boy told me that they had it and directed me to the case and the girl behind the counter. Unfortunately, all the MP they had was blue and purple.

Counter girl suggested RAW hair dye in Candy Pink. She also declared that it was better than Manic Panic and that she had used it more than MP. Stupidly...I took her word for it...and also bought numerous other things like the RAW White Out bleach kit, a Hoodybag, Superman belt buckle (hubby's idea), belt to go with it, and a 'Punisher' decal for the bug sheild on hubby's gigantic truck (which by the way, I recently got to move twice and was also not an easy feat). After that, we left the mall and hit Home Depot in search of the perfect air hammer, which was also not found there although one was purchased and the fence gate has now been lowered so Jezebelle cannot escape and then we went to the grocery store.

Got home, and was expecting to find that my mother and brother had already arrived...but they hadn't so we unloaded the groceries and I made Chili and numerous other things. Then finally they got here and me and mum started the hair processing extravaganza.

First, there was the RAW White Out. We followed all the directions exactly including keeping the hair dryer on my head for a whole hour (this was like being on a helicopter). This product worked very well. It lightened and evened out the color excellently. I would recommend this kit to anyone it worked so well.

Next was the dye. The instructions were a little bit of a pain in the ass and specific but not really. They were followed properly as well, but this process did not end well as seen in the above picture.

My hair, which is hair that cannot be killed is perfectly fine. However the color as seen above is not good, not the color it was supposed to be and certainly not even remotely even. I literally could have gotten the same or even better results dying my hair with Kool-Aid (Yes, for all of you that are going, "What?", it can be done)...and the entire process would have smelled better!

Then today, I was poking around on the internet and found a bunch of reviews on the dye. Apparently it's only marketed by Hot Topic and no one seems to have any luck with the particular color that I used...not that the other colors are without their faults, 'cause they all seem to have problems so far as reveiws go. Reading these reviews just made me want to go back to Hot Topic and bitch-slap the counter girl. I refrain from doing this only because all the reviews I read of this color dye say that it will be gone without staining by the fourth wash. So, if by the end of the week the blotchy pink isn't gone, then there might be some smack-down...and I think I might take some of my homies with me!

In other strangeness...

My mother called me last week to see if I wanted copies of some pictures she got from my grandmother (her mother, the nazi grandma). I was busy so I really didn't want to talk or deal with it so I was just like, "Yeah, copy whatever ones you think I should have!" But since this is my mother we're talking about she had to hang on the phone and tell me what every single on of them was...not that I cared or had the time right that second...until she mentions that she also has some pictures from 1965 when she was in Vogue magazine. I was all, "What...what are you talking about?" Then there was a brief explanation which really wasn't helping stop the flow of questions in my mind. It was apparently some junior-bride thing and the photos were taken at one of my great aunt's weddings. How is it that I, a female, managed to live twenty-six and a half years without knowing my mother was in Vogue...even if she was only 6 years old at the time? You'd think she might have mentioned this at some point, especially since my uncle used to do shoots for Seventeen when I was younger and he was less gay than he is right now. The strange shit you learn about your family...

The momma in her Vogue spread.

As we can see, I am not quite as well-behaved in wedding attire as The Momma is. Of course, I was also younger and Nazi-Grandma taught me to make funny faces whenever there was a camera pointed in my direction. BTW: This was when I was the glower girl in my insane (yes, she's actually had 2 or 3 breakdowns) godmother's wedding.

Secondly, there was a gigantic, very wayward turtle in my yard on Thursday afternoon. I don't know what the hell it was doing in my yard in the first place since I have no water or anything like that for it. Also, it was quite a ways away from water being a slow-moving turtle and all and I live four blocks off Lake Michigan. BEG named it 'Manny' from far away in The Great White North. Of course she also thinks it was a gift of love left for me by The Concrete Guy. She may or may not blog about this. I don't really know at this point. Anyway, there's some debate as to how it got into my yard and why the hell wasn't it hybernating. Some think it was here the whole winter and that The Concrete Guy disturbed it and wrecked its home. I think that it just crawled in when the gate was open. Who knows.

And 3rd...We're now playing a life-size, reality version of 'Where's Waldo' since Shortleash seems to have gone missing. Miss Maddy and her mommy are around, however Miss Maddy's Daddy's truck has not come back home since Tuesday morning. Trouble in paradise? I think so, but since I'm not about to get in the middle of it, I haven't gone over there to find out what's up. If I do figure out anything, there might be more on this later.