In Driving News...

People here can't drive.

Before any Little Rockian that may read this gets upset, just.... just wait.

I moved here from DFW... pretty much the capital of bad driving (behind Houston.... I thought...and anyone from Tennessee). I battled 635, 35 and Beltline on a regular basis. I know bad driving. I spent a long time after I moved out of small town East Texas to DFW trying to control my road rage. With Little Rock being smaller than Dallas... I assumed that the number of A-hole drivers would go down, too.

Nope. Little Rock wins.

I live and work in West Little Rock - so I rarely have to get on the highway anymore. Typically, when I do finally get out of West Little Rock, it's because my husband and I are venturing out together and he is driving - so I pretty much try to ignore the driving aspect of the journey. I take residential roads to my job... I eat lunch at home usually... I have my own corner of LR here. I like it.

Last week we helped Couch Amanda move from WLR to the Heights (closer to downtown, for those of you who are unfamiliar). She even has her own couch that we packed up (awww). Her dog, who occupies my backyard at least once or twice a week (her name is Kota), was staying with us during the morning of the move because, as Amanda said "she knows your backyard and those smells". We were done by 2 with the big move. Couch Amanda provided pizza and beer.. and then we took naps.

I had an appointment at 4. I was backing out of my driveway at 3:40 when she came to get her dog from our backyard (which always bums Pete out.... Pete digs Kota). I waved and kept going. I had places to be.

I'm less than a mile from my exit, when I saw this asshole driver move from the inner left lane allllll the way over three lanes of traffic without a signal into the right lane. This was... I guess 4 or 5 cars ahead of me. I just shook my head... as I had already done 3 times on my short drive because that's how it goes here. Ignorant driving. Traffic lights are just a suggestion... lane stripes don't matter. Blinkers? What's a blinker?

So... this A-hole driver is a few cars ahead of me now... and they exit where I'm exiting.

I get a little closer to this jerk.

A little closer, again. I recognize this dent in the left back bumper....

Then I see Dakota's little head pop up from the passenger seat.

THAT IS AMANDA. THAT IS MY ASSHOLE DRIVER.

Yeah. I was leaving my house as she was getting there... and she managed to get in front of me? What?

I've said this to her face before, so I'm not going to hold back: she is a terrible driver. Imagine the worst female driver you know: she is that PLUS she is Asian. It's bad. The bad part: she thinks nothing of it. In her mind, she is a fine driver. Every time she hits the road.. I get nervous for her. And anyone that may cross her path.

The first time I rode somewhere with her - our friendship was new and I was nicer. Now, when she offers to drive I laugh and tell her how much I value my life. And my limbs. And not having to be medicated.

I immediately called her (which I realize now was not really going to help ANY of this... plus it was going to distract her from "driving") ... at this point I'm right behind her. She would never know because mirrors don't matter to her (in the car).  I can see her digging into her purse for her phone. She missed the call and then called me back real quick just in time for me to turn off the street and away from her. I recapped the whole thing for her... naturally, she denied that it was as bad as I was saying - but just trust me: it was. It was bad.

I'm not trying to say that I'm the BEST driver... but I did attend the David Carlile School of Driving.. so... I'm at least slightly better than the average driver. (that one's for you, Dad).

So... with all this negative Couch Amanda driving talk... I am also going to mention this:
My year and a half long streak of not hitting any idle objects with my vehicle is over. Except this wasn't totally idle...

When it thunder storms here, as it so often does, we put our big dog in his bed - which happens to be in the garage. He is terrified of thunder. If it's nasty weather during the day when I need to be at work, the garage is the best option because Shep is not to be trusted in the house alone (I recall a missing Sonicare, chewed up hot rollers, a destroyed vanity and missing makeup. HE ATE MY SONICARE).

So... he doesn't mind being in the garage - but he hates when I open the garage door to back out. I'm sure it's the noises and the headlights and the rain... but I hate soooo much to hear that dog cry.

I jumped the gun the other day. As soon as I hit my garage button, I slammed it in reverse and.... caught the garage.. Yeah...All to avoid hearing my Shep cry.

It's not so bad... the husband shook his head at me and said "it'll buff out". Hopefully the Jetta is still going to get her facelift soon... even though my not driving into things streak has started over.

4 whole days!

Sometimes, I drop the ball.

IS IT REALLY JUST TUESDAY?

Feels like it should be at least Thursday....hmm...

SO, I have a tendency to take situations that may not be awkward at all and turn them into moments that make me want to flush myself down the toilet.

It happens more often than I would like to admit, but a few of them - I'm willing to share.


Like this one:

About a year ago my dear friend, Riley, was super pregnant and had a baby shower thrown for her. I was a hostess (one of a few) for her baby shower. There was a boat load of food involved - and food arranging and food eating and food decorating. Not to mention: she RACKED UP on adorable baby things - it was a total success. As being a hostess of a shower goes, I did okay.

We all planned on splitting the cost of the shower evenly among us to keep things fair. I got an email from Riley's sister-in-law, Ashley, a few weeks after the shower giving the total that we were all going to split. Naturally, because I'm so on top of things, I immediately wrote out a check and put it in an envelope to mail.

A few weeks later I got another email from Ashley saying that she was still waiting on her check from me - which couldn't be possible, I thought, because I wrote the check out and sent it. Probably just stuck in the post, I thought.

I got one more email from her - which I totally dismissed because LADY, I SENT YOUR CHECK.

Fast forward to a month ago I was changing out purses and.... YEP... found the envelope. Addressed, stamped and ready to go. I never sent that effing check. I had a moment of shame in my closet as I was completing the purse switch... but decided that it had been so long and I wasn't sure how to approach it yet... so I kind of just dropped it. I've discovered that this is an inherited trait: if I ignore it, it'll go away. I'm not saying it's the best way to handle things... I'm just saying that sometimes I use it.

OKAY - onto the part where I make things weird:

two weekends ago (because that's how my time is officially measured now... by weekends) I was on a plane to DFW to see College Annette, when I hear a very familiar voice with a Mississippi twang say "MELANIE!!!?" - it was Riley... and she had in tow with her, none other than Ashley. I was at the front of the plane (my logic is that I can forget it's a plane when I'm at the front because it has fewer windows... and if something terribly wrong goes down... I'm most likely to just get it over with quickly in the nose of the plane... I'll never know what hit me... as you can see, I love flying...longest parenthesis side note ever) - anyway: I was in the front and they were seated around the middle of the plane. We had a strange yelling conversation for just a second, but switched to texting because we were clearly annoying some of the other passengers who didn't want to be awake so early on a Saturday (don't worry, it was before take-off that we used the cell phones).

We get off the plane and stop at the ladies room.... Riley is still trapped inside the bathroom, so it's just me and this woman who thinks I don't pay for baby showers that I'm hostessing. Which, apparently, I don't. But not on purpose. Eye contact was minimal.

Elephant in the room.

Big elephant.

Finally, it pretty much flew out: "ICLEANEDOUTMYPURSE.....ANDFOUNDYOURCHECK. I never sent it. I'm so sorry. I thought I did.... I'll get you a check..."

She looked at me like I just told her that I had a talking frog in my suitcase.... then she, very sweetly, said "oh, that? I didn't even remember that!"... we both had an awkward laugh, and right then Riley walked out of the bathroom... so I felt the need to make it even weirder and catch Riley up to speed. Riley gave me the same talking-frog-in-the-suitcase look.... then we all moved on with our bags on wheels to say good morning to Dallas.

There was definitely a more graceful way to handle this. I can think of 3.  Right now.

Good grief.

used-ta-could

Wednesday night was ladies night... this meant mostly free drinks and no cover charge.

Thursday night was college night... it's the same as ladies' night - except guys got to experience the same "perks".

Friday night was... well it was Friday night: no school the next day.

Saturday night was anticipation of Sunday... which was the last day of the weekend - or freedom from class. Naturally there were celebrations.

I guess we used to go out. Kind of all the time. (we = my college bestie, Annette, and me. and a few other regulars).

Last night was a birthday celebration for my friend Kristie. Kristie wanted to go to dinner, to a wine bar and then out dancing. That sounds like fun, doesn't it?

Well, not to take away from her birthday extravaganza, because it WAS fun. However, it just reminds me that I'm not built for that kind of night out anymore. And trust me, I was rusty.

Dinner was good. I can do dinner.

The wine bar was PERFECT. I loved it. I had never been to this particular one - I will definitely go back.

The dancing.

This is where I started to feel like a fish out of water.

I was so awkward.

I used to have this fluid motion of handing the bouncer my ID, giving them exact cash and holding out my wrist to be stamped.

That skill has left me.

I handed over my ID - as if they even needed it...
Handed them a $20 - they looked agitated as they had to give me change
Then I walked into the bar without looking back... some guy tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to his wrist. Oops, missed the stamp.

In college, going out meant walking across the street from Annette's apartment to the bar, and playing frogger back home at 2 or 3 AM. (cringing slightly as I realize that my Mother-in-law is probably reading this... what can I say... young and dumb, I was).

Being the responsible adult that I am now - one drink was all I was going to have because I knew I would be making my way to my car and driving home late.

Did you know that these places are not tolerable without getting sloshed? I guess I had never noticed before. The smoking. The dancing.. the bad, bad dancing. The random people who bump into you and say "oh, sorry babe" while uninvitedly (new word) touching your waist...I did what I could to make the most of it - and most importantly, I think Kristie had fun.

Of course, I probably would have had more fun if my hubby had been there to be silly with me (he was home with Luke - typically I wouldn't go out without him, but it was a birthday thing).

I guess something happened to me after I got married. I'm pretty sure that anytime I'm out sans JD, I assume someone evil is out to get me. Someone is going to come out of the random darkness and try to chase me, steal all of my money, grab my engagement ring and band, leave me in a ditch beat up... probably in a puddle, too...and haul ass driving away in my car. Please note that I think I've "gone out" without JD 2 or 3 times. ever. Bottom line: I'm paranoid.

How paranoid, you ask?

Paranoid enough to take a teeny-tiny wristlet that doesn't even match my outfit to hold my ID, key, 1 lip gloss and money instead of a purse like normal. Paranoid enough to wear shoes I can run in. Paranoid enough to keep my ring upside down and out of sight (which I suppose can be misleading... but trust me, I give out no signals). Paranoid enough to have a plan that involved elbows and crotches in the event that I am attacked as planned.

Typing it out like this make me think it's not so "paranoid" and it is so practical, though. Not all bad ideas!

The good news: Nobody attacked me AND my thighs got a good workout from all of the dancing. 

Anyways... I went out this weekend and it was fun but I realize that there is a reason I don't do that all that often (read as though I'm saying it in one breath, because that's how I'm typing it).

Happy Birthday, Kristie! I am happy to call you my friend, and working with you keeps things FUN! :)

Open Eyes. and punching bags.

Tomorrow is Friday :)

Tomorrow Luke comes home :)

We have a ton to be Thankful for.

I know we're past the whole "holiday, I'm so thankful for everything including nose hair" season - but...truthfully, we should have those moments more often than just Thanksgiving through Christmas - I think. No, don't stop reading - this will be good, I promise.

I work in property management... which keeps things.... interesting (to say the least). There are days when I come home wondering HOW a resident can act the way they act... or, sometimes, smell the way they smell. It's definitely not an easy job - being involved in something as important as an individual's living arrangements comes with heavy dealings. My position involves training other employees, but a big part of my job is also being a buffer between the maintenance/office teams and the resident. I love my job - but I left there today choking back some tears... and desperately needing a shower.

We've been installing fire extinguishers into alllll of the apartments this week - so we've seen things. This also gives us an excuse to check out the properties in detail and do an inspection. We've seen nasty, unclean homes. We've seen spotless, obviously recently bleached homes. We've seen people attempt to hide their pets. We've seen one particular bathroom completely decorated in Dora the Explorer gear.  We've seen strange displays of "art". We've seen kitchens with dinner on the counter from 3 nights ago (or more). We've seen bugs. Big ones.

It's easy to forget as a very blessed, very fortunate person that some people are really just trying to get by.  The whole "put yourself in their shoes" thing comes into play often with this job, but it becomes real once you walk into some of these homes.

I inspected an apartment today that I know belonged to a family. 2 little girls... both probably under 4 and a little boy. This is a 2 bedroom apartment. The living room had a pull-out sofa bed (this is the first room I could see... my immediate thought was "oh, they've got more people living here than they have documented on the lease"... because that's just where my mind goes first) - so, pull-out sofa bed and a small table. Nothing in the dining room. Nothing in the kitchen except a sippy-cup. One bedroom had a mattress on the floor... and that's when I saw a little pink tricycle in the corner of an empty bedroom....

I know we're all dealt different lives and situations (this was my best attempt to not say cards... cliche and all). I also believe that not everyone is equipped to survive all situations, meaning: some people may be be given rougher lives because Someone greater knows they can pull through... when others cannot. It's the only way I can rationalize it. Yes, I have to try...

It's just... I came home from my really great job to my fully furnished, warm home. I know not everybody gets that. It's easy to get sucked into being greedy and materialistic (I'm willing to admit that it is for me. I definitely struggle with it)... it's not that I forget how privileged I am. But some days my eyes seem to be open wider than normal. Today is one of those days. 

Not to take away from the above, but I have to include this:

One apartment had a giant punching bag in the living room and I REALLY wanted to kick it as soon as I saw it... but I maintained my professionalism and did not... UNTIL: my maintenance guy forgot his drill and had to go back out to get it... as soon as he rounded the corner out the door I gave that punching bag my best kick.

I felt pretty smug. I also felt like I needed one of these punching bags!

I turned around to see the camera that the resident keeps in the upper living room corner. I waved. Caught.

Just then, my maintenance team member walked in to catch me waving at the ceiling. So I had to explain myself.
Busted.

Avoid the "R"

I'm not particularly good at driving in reverse....

And when I say "not particularly good", what I mean is: I totally avoid it. I don't even parallel park. Ever.

So when I backed into our garage after a trip to the grocery store on Monday, people were impressed. Well... I was impressed. My husband was impressed. See? People.

We don't have a short, flat and easy driveway. We have a monster, steep, insane driveway* (side note to come).

I also have a little problem hitting idle objects. In fact, I've only ever hit idle objects (mostly going in reverse... of course). My first incident occured when I was 17... backing down a driveway that I had only been parked in for less than 5 minutes... I hit a friends truck and knocked it into the street. I was driving a teeny tiny car and knocked a truck into. the street. Dad was upset, but I'm pretty sure he wanted to laugh.  

About a year and a half ago I managed to side swipe one of those cement platforms that gas pumps sit on... making my back passenger door difficult to open. It wasn't such an eye sore that it became a priority to fix... plus, to be honest, fixing a dent in my car just isn't high up on the priority list anyways. It was a super cramped, awkward parking lot - the husband grumbled a little, but he knows me... so it wasn't a huge deal (you should know... the DAY this happened my sister got a brand new car. not just any car: the car I wanted... I was cranky about it for a good 3 hours).

6 months after the cement gas pump thingy jumped out in front of me... one of my maintenance men at work decided it would be a grand idea to park his golf cart behind my car. in the dark. while it was raining. Naturally, when I left the office, I did not check to see if there were any golf carts behind my vehicle.....SCRAPEEEEEEEEE allll down the same side of the car as the other dent. This one is a little more noticeable. Husband (and father) rolled his eyes at this one. I still maintain that it was not totally my fault.

It's safe to say that my next mode of transportation will include one of those little rear view camera things. Fancy.

Here we are, a year later. I haven't hit anything in a year... and I think that's a good enough record to get my car fixed :) The Jetta is very excited about her facelift. We have many more great years together. This may even inspire me to clean the trunk out.

I have a lot of junk in my trunk.

No really. It's bad.

Side note as promised: **Our driveway is a pain in the ass. but you aren't allowed to say that. Only we're allowed to talk about our driveway in such a manner. You see, we understand that it would bother some people - but pretty much any time someone new comes over, the first thing they do is complain about the driveway. It gets its feelings hurt and I get annoyed. This is how I look at it: we're very unlikely to get robbed. Between the giant dog, the alarm system and the steep driveway - they'll just pass on by. Whoever "they" may be. Bottom line: I see my driveway. I love my house. Find something nice to say if you come over. Rant complete.

Christmas-y things

I sneezed on someone today.

I'm not proud of it.

A complete stranger in the grocery store came to get milk, and left with milk plus my snot.

I HATE being sick.

I tried really hard not to be all "woe is me" because it's Christmas and Luke is home and I was with family... Luckily (sorry dad...) Dad had the same whatever that I have... so together we were pretty pitiful. My poor mother.

Before I got sick I hurt my back... like an old lady - WHAT is going on? I can't complain too much... Doc sent me the good pills (the kind that make large family gatherings easier).

Anyways... It's been really great visiting with friends and family and all - but I'm done with this cold. DONE.

Conversation between the husband and me today:

Me: I hate that I've been sick.... I haven't been awake for a full day in almost a week.
Husband: .... yeah? :he looks at me over his glasses... nose pointed down:
Me: Well... I guess that's not so abnormal... I'm just sorry I'm sick.
Husband: Yeah, I thought that's what you meant.

To the individual I sneezed on: I'm really sorry... it sneaked up on me... I'm normally not so disgusting.

I love Christmas.... it's possibly my favorite time of year - but I haven't been able to enjoy it as much as normal. I did manage to keep my scrooge-ness to myself (that is until now). You won't get a "bah humbug" out of me; I still have enjoyed it all... minus the sneezing on strangers.

I had a day.

I had such a day yesterday.

We're all allowed a day every once in a while.

It was a fling-yourself-dramatically-across-the-bed kind of day that turned into a curl-up-into-the-fetal-position and wait for things to feel better kind of day.

It started early, too. Right after we woke up.

As mentioned before: I make lists. My one big list hasn't, for practical reasons- mind you, been completed. It is the CHRISTMAS list.

Yesterday morning all I could think of was getting things done. I was out of town for most of the week and when I got back the husband and I had THREE Christmas parties in 48 hours.

That being said, my husband lived as a bachelor all week with the dogs (and the cat). He did things like eat cheese. Like... while it's still a block. He made steaks and included a special plate for Shep. I can't really say too much- typically when I'm out of town he is productive. Time before last he installed new lighting into the kitchen... making things much brighter and happier. He DID complete a large portion of the Christmas shopping.... which is amazing. Point being: MY HOUSE WAS A DISASTER.

I don't think straight when my house is a disaster and my to-do list is not complete.


So yesterday I woke up to finish addressing Christmas cards. That's right. It was December 17th and my Christmas cards haven't been mailed. I'm sitting there, surrounded by cards, mad at myself that this is even happening.. and then I realized I was missing some addresses.... so I had to email, text, facebook and send telepathic messages to a few people to get their updated address... What I needed was INSTANT GRATIFICATION. So we went to lunch. Because I'm no good without food.

Bought the very last Christmas present of the season. Had a delicious lunch at Big Orange. Then came home with a new perspective on life.. I had a tasty burger in my belly and had completed a couple of things on my list. Next: finish the cards.

The post offices closes at 1 on Saturday. Did you know that?

I didn't.

My feeling of self worth dwindled... (this is where I fling myself across the bed.... dramatically). All I could see was the unwrapped gifts, the cat hair on... everything, my laundry PILES... more than one. At this stage during my Christmas list, I'm supposed to be hearing Christmas music, baking cookies and pretending to be MARTHA STEWART. Or my Mother. Yes, my mother... that's way better.

Then it's a series of "where can I start" thoughts and "HOW did my house get into this kind of condition" thoughts. That's where I curl into the fetal position and bury myself in the bed. I couldn't seem to start doing anything on my list.

There comes a point when I have so much to do and I feel overloaded that I just decide not to do any of it and throw a fit like a 3 year old instead. Because that's productive. It makes complete sense.

My husband digs through the bed to find me smack in the middle. Not that I'm hard to miss... large ball in the middle of the bed - could be a laundry pile: but was me.

He does this magical thing he always does. Those almond shaped green eyes of his are so calming. He gets me to settle down... tells me to take a nap...This is not his first rodeo, no.

When I woke up, I heard Christmas music... and he was on the living room floor wrapping a few gifts.

And the floor was vacuumed. It's a Christmas Miracle. At least, that's what it felt like. 



**This is, of course, the watered down version. There is no way I'll let anyone except for my husband see exactly how crazy I am :)