Keepin' it Classy...

It happened...Again.

I worked all day, ran around the hotel for 7 hours in heels making every detail for someone's event perfect down to the last carrot stick. They left, I cleaned up and then went immediately over to a friends house for a cocktail party I was hosting as a couple's wedding shower.

I had spent weeks planning the food, the decorations, the festivites. No detail went unattended. I bought dozens of pieces of glassware so there were no paper cups, I fought a hard battle over plastic anything. I wanted it beautiful and classy and perfect. So I'm cooking, and cleaning and setting up, I throw on my little black cocktail dress, have people lighting candles... I'm making drinks, people are oohing over the food- I am aware of a drink in my hand, but too busy to be concerned with it.

Things are rolling along, everything is on schedule, Sinatra is playing and all is right with the world. Until I realize I have downed 2 cosmos and 2 lemon drop martinis without even noticing...until my head is in the toilet. Nice.

Way to keep it classy...

Gah! Why does this always happen to me? It seems no matter how hard I try I cannot ever time it right. Nothing ever goes as planned. What am I doing wrong???

Boys who talk funny....

As a rule, I think most women like men with accents. Some chicks love the English lilt, or Aussie ruggedness, maybe a Scottish brogue. Some women are ready to drop their panties for men who speak any of the Love Languages. We all have some imaginary Pretend Boyfriend who whispers something romantic and foreign...maybe in French or Italian. But no. Not me.

I am a sucker for boys who drop their R's.

So no, it's not 'foreign' so to speak.... certainly not fancy or rugged. But what is it with those boys from the northeast and their sexy letter skipping accents that makes me crazy?

One of my very best friends always tells people when I finally do get to Boston I'd probably be happy to just listen to random men speak- read the phone book even. It's true, too. I'm afraid to take myself to Boston for fear of pouncing on dark haired boys who happen to say hi or ask me how I am. ("How ah ya?") Just thinking about it makes me giggly and beside myself. Some sweet waiter will want to take my order and I will kiss him... A gentleman will ask me if I want a beer and I will practically dry hump him. Gah!

I will be out of control. I will get my ass beat by some local chick for drooling over her boyfriend while I listen to him on his cell phone! But it's not even the young ones. Old guys talkng like that is the cutest damn thing ever. And the more they cuss, the better. I can't wait to go to a bar and hear a whole crowd of them yelling, "FAHK!"

That shit doesn't get old for me either. I have had one friend who drops his R's and three years later, I'm still begging him to say "clam chowder" one more time. Is he annoyed by it? Probably. Tells me I've got to learn to play it cool, but I swear this is some kind of sickness.

But at least I know any man who speaks like that could kick the shit out of your English Pretend Boyfriend...

Bad Mommy!

So I was dropping the oldest girl off for a slumber party and the mommy of the friend comes out to chat. She tells me she and her husband are going out for a few hours, something they do every Thursday. "It's a spiritual group."

I immediately am sent into a panic- as any kind of conversation teetering on religious beliefs makes me do. So I am off kilter when she says,

"Do YOU belong to a Spiritual Group?"

My immediate, no thought process involved reply?

"Sure do- but it's a different kind of spiritual. It's the one that comes from a bottle!"

She did a double take and my 12 year old yelped in embarrassment, "Mommy!"

Yep. I'm tellin' you... Mommy of the Year for that one.

The Way I See It...

So NASCAR has decided to make a venture into other worlds and one team has even teamed up with my very own RED SOX as owners. Formerly Roush Racing, now Roush-Fenway Racing. They even had a special paint scheme this past weekend at New Hampshire to commemorate the joining of the two.

If you know me, you'd think I'd be a little more excited about this marriage of my two very favorite things on Earth. But the problem is this: I cannot stand Jack Roush.

I love NASCAR. It has been a sports staple of mine for years. I fell in love during a 1996 Rockingham race and have never looked back. (Anyone else remember Rockingham?) I love the drivers, the drama, the intricacies of these three dollar parts determining million dollar paydays. Silly season, crew chief swapping, rivalry making, bump drafting, road course, super speedway, short track, engines blowing, tire rubbing, I LOVE it.

I adore Carl Edwards- he is truly a genuine, happy, grateful, enthusiastic driver. He is talented, he is funny and personable. He does BACKFLIPS off of his car when he wins for gawd's sake! He's fabulous.

Jack Roush? Total a-hole. And I can't endorse or become enthusiastic about anything that furthers his bid to become a dominant owner. Anything that adds credibility to his company. He spent a good portion of the late 90's calling Ray Evrenham a liar and a cheat because he truly couldn't catch up. Screamed that Ray soaked the tires or expanded the gas bladder! Even NASCAR went over those cars with fine toothed combs. They took samples to labs. Ya know what was in those tires? "Air, Jack."

He could not concede that Ray was an amazingly brilliant man who was a genius with those cars at the time. To this day I say Ray and Jeff Gordon were such a dominant force because they were so far ahead of the competition at the time and the competition just finally caught up and leveled the playing field.

It was a feeling among most people in NASCAR that yes, we all loved Mark Martin, but not his owner. He was a whiney baby who cried when his cars didn't win.

But then he got in the airplane accident and almost died and all of a sudden he's a damn saint. Whatever. Kenseth wins a championship and it's supposed to look like a Cinderella story. Screw that. I'm not buying.

So yes, I love the Sox. I should be beside myself with glee that my sports 'had a baby' so to speak. I should be able to take my eyes off that 24 car for 2 seconds to check on my Red Sox car. But I can't. The wrong dude owns it. But that's just the way I see it....

29 Questions About: 1994

I totally stole this from Christel. Who stole it from Lola who stole it from Ann. Because I'm bored and had a bad weekend, but it's too emotionally draining to think, much less write about. So here's some light and fluffy...

Fill this out about your SENIOR year of high school! The longer ago it was, the more fun the answers will be.

1. Who was your best friend? Tistel
2. What sports did you play? Ummm... '94? Is sex a sport?
3. What kind of car did you drive? I didn't
4. Where were you on Friday nights? WalMart or Quebe's or the Park
5. Were you a party animal? uhhhh... we partied. not so sure about the "animal" part. ditto
6. Were you considered a flirt? No. I was considered the dumbass who always had a stupid boyfriend. Or mooning over someone I wanted to be my boyfriend
7. Ever skip school? yep.
8. Were you a nerd? still am- though kinda in a sexy way now... ;-)
10. Did you get suspended/expelled? no...
11. Can you sing the fight song? Yep
12. Who was your favorite teacher? Mrs. E or Mrs. Reagan
13. Favorite class? Newspaper or Theatre
14. What was your school's full name? Georgetown High School
15. School mascot? eagles
16. Did you go to Prom? 3 of em
17. If you could go back to high school and do it over, would you? Not just no, hell no.
18. What do you remember most about graduation? Being sad I had nobody to hug on the field because none of my friends were there with me.
19. Favorite memory of your Senior Year? I don't have a 'one'. It was an accumulative effort resulting in my lifetime group of friends.
20. Were you ever posted up on the senior wall? the wha? I am unfamiliar.
21. Did you have a job your senior year? yep. Wal-Mart Girl.
22. Where did you go most often for lunch? the Park, DUR. Home of the Infamous Wall of Food courtesy of Daniel Lee Hoglan. Amen, sister! Though I must add, we went to Sonic or Taco Bueno a lot.
23. Have you gained weight since then? yep. But 10 pounds per kid isn't sooo bad. Oh, wait...
24. What did you do after graduation? Worked my ass off, had a baby, got married.
25. When did you graduate?1994
26. Where are most of your classmates? we are all still in town
27. Are you going to your ten year reunion? Went against my better judgement. Won't be making an appearance at the 20th.
28. Who was your home room teacher? homeroom teacher? what's that?
29. Who will repost this after you? Any random stranger who happens upon this and is bored too.

A Little NASCAR Gloating...

"Hey Jeff, let's go kick some ass and take some names, Boss!"

That's right, bitches. WE OWN HIS ASS! WOOOOOO!!!

It's a banner day in NASCAR and we Jeff Gordon fans are giddy and beside ourselves with glee. You see, it hasn't been us booing your driver. No, no. We haven't thrown beer cans when your golden boy Earnhardt Jr. has won. A, because we have more class and B, because, oh yeah, he hasn't won in over a year, but I digress...

So while I've never jumped on the Jr. bandwagon, I can say I've never hated him. He's been a fun, amusing dude who looks like someone you'd totally want to have a beer with. -As long as he didn't talk about his Daddy- who I couldn't stand, but have respect for what he did for the sport... The only reason Jr. fans hated Jeff was because they were jealous- we never had anything to be jealous of. And now, (write it down!) June 13, 2007, Dale Earnhardt Jr. comes to join Hendrick Motorsports. "Why would he do that?" you may be asking yourselves.


Because he knows that's where he's got to go to win.


Duh. And so now, when he does win, when/if he goes on to win a championship, he will have Hendrick beside him. He will never have to beat us- he's joined us.

And what's even more fabulous? Jeff Gordon is all but 50/50 partners with Hendrick in all endeavors and most assuredly will be so when he retires. A+B= Jr. will soon be driving FOR, not with Mr. Jeffery Michael Gordon. Soon he'll call him Boss... Omg, I love this game...

I'm sorry. I know. It must hurt. I swear I will only rub this in for today. I will only do my evil chuckle a few more times today and then back to business. I will only dream about Jr. thanking Jeff and Mr. Hendrick for the opportunity a little longer, I will only giggle a little at the idea of now learning to root for Jr. because I will be able to see what he can do in quality equipment surrounded by the most talented teams in NASCAR...

But I will laugh loudly AND point at you dumbshits with the number 8 tattoos if he becomes the #5!!!

People will ask what this does to NASCAR, and I say "Who gives a crap?" It's the same as any other driver swap. Jr. fans will still be pissy if he loses, Gordon fans will still want Jeff to go after those 3 more trophies. Any other team had the same opportunity to court Jr. but he chose Hendrick for a reason. This is his last chance to prove he's not the O word he hears so often- Overratred. If he can't win here, he can't win. And all the hype that has surrounded him since he got to the Cup level is just that. A bunch of hoop-la about a so-so driver with a big-ass last name. I hope he does well.... I can now.

Welcome to the Hendrick Family, Jr. We are happy to have you onboard. Now get your driving boots on, it's time to go win some races....

A Word on Alcohol...

So one of my very best friends is getting married- and so of course that means meeting new people and her new family. Amazing the kinds of people you discover you've never met before. People from other states or countries, people from all walks of life, people of different religions, people who don't drink....

Whoa-waitwaitwait, wha?

Yeah. For real. And I don't mean a 90 year old Bible thumper either. I have met a gorgeous young woman who doesn't drink at all. And that is the craziest talk I have ever heard.

That's like saying, "Sex? No thank you- I don't have sex."

"Air? Oh no, really. I'm fine, but thank you."

Seriously? I assure you I am not an alcoholic by any means- I can even find people who will vouch for me. But the thought of never drinking EVER... That would drive me into a mental institution. I get that everyone has their thing. Some dumbasses have to smoke pot to relax, some people must smoke cigarettes. But never a glass of wine (or seven) at a party? Not a lemon drop martini on a hot summer night? Not a Jager bomb after a few glasses of whiskey?

Drinks are like lovers... You get to choose which you are in the mood for on any given night. You think about them, crave them, then lovingly wrap your hands around them and slowly take that first taste... You can take them slowly, savoring each sip- making it last longer, or you can take it quickly, barely taking the time to enjoy the flavor, but getting satisfaction immediately.

If you don't want to be with the same drink all night, try another one- or another. No one is counting. Maybe you skip from wine to visit liquor. Maybe you are true blue and go with bottle after bottle of the same beer. Maybe you cheat a little on your beer with a shot or two... Naughty...

I cannot imagine not having this love affair with alcohol every now and again. What is it like to just choose to never have her in your life- especially when you've never experimented with her? Never to know the warm feeling of happiness slowly wash over you until you can feel your worries and stresses just slide right off your shoulders?

Okay, yes, you'd miss out on those rough nights where all those ladies meeting in the nightclub of your tummy start fighting it out and someone gets thrown out (er..up) but how often does that happen after your 25th birthday, really? Maybe it's the fear of loosing your inhibitions and doing or saying something stupid. That happens to me... A LOT. But usually it's funny stories like that that weave together the tapestry of my friendship with a lot of people.

I just don't get it. Do you, my sweet little Jameson bottle? No, I didn't think so....