Over the weekend, we took a trip to The Philadelphia Auto Show … why? Well, because sometimes you do things in the name of love. There is a song all about it.
I knew my husband really wanted to go so I made the plans. Feel free to let out a big old awe!
I presented the plans to my husband, whom I thought would be over the moon, however that was not the case. No balloons or confetti to be found!
This is what happened next:
Me: I thought you wanted to go to the car show?
Husband: Yea, I do.
Me: So why do you look as if I just asked you to split an atom?
Husband: Because I can’t believe you want to go.
Me: Well, I really don’t want to go but I’m always dragging you places, so I thought why not.
Husband: Are you going to have “the face”?
Me: What face?
Husband: The Williamsburg Virginia face?
Me: Hahahahaha! You remember a face from 24 years ago, but no recollection if our son is currently in the house?
Husband: Well that face was memorable.
Me: Silence. Can’t argue that truth bomb!
I roamed the streets of Williamsburg VA., dreaming of all the other things I could be doing while the husband looked at EVERY SINGLE artifact in awe. Omg! The flashback is too much!
Don’t even get me started on the women making candles …. I can’t!
So, what does a good wife do? She promises not to have the Williamsburg face, but will not guarantee a lesser state of boredom face. Win win.
We went. We looked. We left. Oh and we overpaid for a soft pretzel that should have been made of gold dough!
On the way home I couldn’t wait to ask the million dollar question:
Me: How was my face?
Me: Come on I thought I did really well.
Husband: Yea, I guess it wasn’t too bad.
Me: “Wasn’t too bad!” I thought I held it in pretty well.
Husband: Yea, you did better than Virginia.
Me: In my defense I don’t care about new cars. In fact, the smell makes me sick. I just care that my car starts and gets me to my destination. Although I did like the speedometer on that Mini Cooper and the red seats in the Jaguar were cool, but I was much more interested in the people.
Husband: In that case you were very happy.
Me: Did you see the empty Gatorade bottle in the Mercedes?
Me: Did you see that guy with the gauges in his earlobes down to his shoulders.
Me: How about the pack of Newports in the Lexus?
Me: Umm … the guy with the tear drop tattoos on his face taking selfies in the Hummer?
Me: Were we at the same show?
Husband: Apparently not.
It doesn’t matter where we were or what we were doing that day, we still had a great time just being together … Enjoying the Ride!
Todays Daily Post Pens and Pencils asks the following:
When was the last time you wrote something substantive — a letter, a story, a journal entry, etc. — by hand? Could you ever imagine returning to a pre-keyboard era?
Just this week I wrote a note of well wishes to a sick friend and good luck wishes to friends who are starting a new chapter in their lives. I would consider both of these notes substantive, because they had the personal touch of the written word …. my words.
As a matter of fact, I can’t return from the pre-keyboard era because I never really left. I love giving and receiving a written note. I don’t care if it’s a simple “Pick up milk” on a post-it or a loving reminder inside a card that someone out there in the world is thinking of me on a special occasion. Handwriting Rocks!
Let me toot my handwriting horn now. My handwriting truly rocks because I went to Catholic school where penmanship was far more important than anything else on the planet. You haven’t lived until you completed an entire copybook of the handwritten alphabet!
My children, ages 20 and 21, will never ever master this craft. There are chickens in barnyards across America with better writing skills! Although my daughter had a brief stint with penmanship, my son had less.
He has voiced his dislike for my hand written notes claiming he struggles to read cursive, while insisting I print. I refuse to resort to wall drawings on his behalf!
At work I still have the pleasure of using a sharpened wood pencil, along with a date book that has real paper pages. Don’t faint.
I use these old school tools to schedule the doctor’s surgeries and I love it! Sharpened pencils make me smile, erasers … well, they make me smile even wider. Trust me, when you’re dealing with the public erasers are a dream come true.
Honestly though the pen and pencil people of the world have to have some empathy for this keyboard era. What are they going to do save a text message from their lovers on their phones? Ugh … that is just depressing.
I guess if they don’t know any different they’re really not missing anything. Ok, now that’s even more depressing.
I am grateful to have the skills to write a note; the ability to appreciate a written note; and the sense to frame a note written by my husband on our first anniversary. Husband and writing are rarely used in the same sentence.
This little beauty has acted as a reminder over the past 24 years on more than one occasion and I cherish its existence. It has also acted as a life saving tool more than once as well … just saying.
Doing things “by hand” isn’t as dirty as it sounds. So take a moment today to write a note and as always … Enjoy the Ride!
Here in good old Philadelphia we recently experienced the “The First Snow of the New Year”, which for some reason became a major news story. Every time a flake fell a WEATHER ALERT interrupted my regular scheduled programing to report on the logistics of said flake. It really makes you want to spike your cocoa.
I would love for snow to go back to the days when it was just snow, before it became headline news. Snow has become the Kim Kardashian of precipitation and it’s equally as overplayed in the media.
Wouldn’t it be nice if snow could just go back to being the plain white pain in the ass it use be? I’ll probably sound all sorts of old right now, but I remember the days when it snowed, everyone dealt with it and we moved on. It was so easy…
No one was out interviewing people on their opinion of the flakes, while we sat glued to the “talking box” with bated breath awaiting the judgements of these novice spectators. When someone with one giant tooth in their mouth claims “the roads were fine” I have to question their credibility. If they can’t see how horrid that tooth looks every damn day they certainly aren’t seeing dangerous road conditions … just sayin.
No one was bringing camera crews out to empty parking lots to report on the emptiness of the parking lots and no one and I mean NO ONE was in our face 24/7 informing us about every single movement of these flakes! This does not include the amateur reports on Social Media, which are enough to trample even the strongest of nerves.
One would think that with ALL of the information that was being provided by our media, PEOPLE would have a better understanding of let’s just say … Snules a/k/a Snow Rules. Um, yes they exist is the land of common sense where I reside. Sadly someone forgot to forward the memo over to the land of asses, which happens to be extremely overpopulated these days. I have dubbed these people Snasses … a/k/a Snow Asses.
Snules: n. a piece of advice about the best way to do something.
Snasses: n. a group of people who don’t follow snules; referred to an ass, a-hole or stupid ass on clear weather days.
Below are just a few examples of Snasses and Snules, you know for the next round of flakes. Feel free to take notes.
Snass: On my white knuckle ride home from the gym during the start of “The First Snow of the New Year” I had someone riding my bumper like I was twerking it up at the VMA’s.
Snule: Unless you are about to perform a colonoscopy I suggest you stay a safe distance behind strange bumpers.
Snass: On Friday afternoon, while on my way to the food store for you guessed it …. milk, I encountered what I am lead to believe was a mini van, but since it was completely snow-covered other than the non proportional eye slots no one will ever really be sure, which I’m guessing was the point.
Snule: When you head out onto the roads clean the snow off your car. This includes the ENTIRE vehicle, especially the large glass surface used to SEE the road. Clearing two spaces for your eyes will not suffice.
Snass: On Saturday afternoon my daughter and I were out and about on a quest for new bras. New year… new bras. Any who … I was being incredibly contained not mentioning the tower of snow on top of the vehicle driving in front of us, but then my daughter unleashed its existence leading to the creation of the word “snass” during my mile long rant.
Snule: Refer back to number 2 to include the ROOF of your vehicle. Driving with a glazier on the top of your vehicle causes blizzard like conditions for everyone driving in your wake. The ONLY exclusion for leaving snow on top of your car would be your lack of arms.
Snass: Parking lots…ugh where do we even begin. Ok, I think it’s safe to assume that the large group of people who decided to venture out for some sales were seasoned mall patrons. Therefore they know EXACTLY how the parking lot is designed and how to use it properly.
Snule: So, unless you have documentation of acute memory loss you need to park in an actual spot…the SIDEWALK leading up the door of the store is NOT suddenly a spot and you know it.
Snass: We all know that being out in your Hummer in the middle of a suburban snow storm makes you feel like some sort of warrior, but let me give you a heads-up … YOU’RE NOT. In fact, driving that thing outside of Afghanistan makes you look ridiculous whether it’s sunny or snowing.
Snule: Unless you are actually driving your oversized vehicle through a snow storm in a war zone, you need to SLOW the hell DOWN and remember you might get to go faster, but you’re not going to stop faster.
Since we are not even through week one of January, it’s safe to say that there will be more snow to come here on the east coast. So please follow the Snules, don’t be a Snass and just Enjoy the Ride!
Ok people this is going to be brief considering I’m still a little traumatized by the events, but I thought it would be good idea to share my tale for healing purposes of course. Or just so you could all have a good ole fashioned laugh at my expense.
December 20th started out like any other day. I was up early to get a jump on things before battling retail facilities with my daughter for Christmas loot. All was calm, all was bright.
Since it was exceptionally warm and sunny that morning I decided to
take my little Pee Wee out for a long walk before we left. This way he would be too tired to miss us…at least that’s what I tell myself. So off we go out into the neighborhood. I thought it would be a good idea to head towards the playground and ball fields in my area, since it is loaded with good sniffing spots for Pee Wee. I never saw this coming … literally!
There I was, minding my own damn business, when out of NO WHERE came 2 giant black poodles heading right for us at full speed. I scoop my little Pee Wee up and hold him over my head like Simba in the Lion King! Thank God I’ve been working out is all I can say!
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the human in charge of these 2 oversized fur balls made her way across the street. She was walking at a snails pace for god sakes!
As she began apologizing, “Jack” the overzealous/horny fur fuck had taken a liking to yours truly and mounted his big furry ass to my back. His paws were at my shoulders and I am at least 5′ 8″ tall…seriously!
Needless to say the poor woman was trying very hard to get Jack to stop humping me, but clearly he was enjoying himself way too much to let loose. By the way I was still holding Pee Wee in the air during this entire one-sided love fest.
As the owner was trying to get a collar onto the other one, Jack continued to enjoy himself. I was turning in all directions trying to shake him loose, but this young lad had paws of steel and he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Awkward? Oh…dear…lord…that was an understatement.
This all conveniently took place at a STOP sign, so you better believe there were quite a few pointing fingers and fits of laughing going on at every stop. Where are the all the superheros when you need one?
The woman FINALLY got one dog under control and then she proceeded to peel Jack off of my back and thanked me for being “gracious”. Um, graciously assaulted was more like it. The first thing out of my mouth was “Well, I’m wearing a black coat, maybe Jack thought I was his girl from the hood.” I really couldn’t think of anything else to say. She just stared….
When it was all over I half expected to see Jack lying on the sidewalk smoking a cigarette! I walked away laughing as I heard the woman continue to apologize. Please ! The least she could have done was give me Jack’s number.
Sooooo….what does one do when crazy shit happens? They send a text to their family and friends who they know will also get a good laugh out of it. Which is exactly what happened.
These are the responses from my dear sisters Madelynne and Gina, notice the sympathetic tones (insert sarcasm please). I knew their responses would make me laugh even harder, because this is how we roll! Read and enjoy folks
Sister number one responds with a question regarding the location of the assault. Oh, not to rush over, but to either avoid that area in the future or laugh harder if other people witnessed this encounter. It was a win win for Madelynne.
Next up is sister number two a/k/a Gina. I knew her response would be good since she is really not what one would call an “animal person” like myself. This was a golden opportunity for her to justify why she is not a pet owner.
The lesson here ladies and gentleman is: When life decides to throw you a curve or a giant poodle named Jack, find the humor and Enjoy the Ride!