In my mind I am Lance Armstrong

In my legs there's a totally different story.  I stood at the starting line with  my team from St, Timothy's Episcopal church scared to death.  I'm a lone rider,a triathelete, used to always staying 2 bike lengths behind other riders (or disqualification) so a mass start to this ride, with a sea of humanity waiting to start, I'm nervous about the new bike, the new clips, and simply keeping up!

My goal the first day is 50 and I'm amazed at how quickly things go by and great I feel all day!  The end of the Rock The Blue Ridge I simply fell over, but this was different, sure there was a fair share of hills but this was -----FUN!  5 broke away from our peleton in their breakaway group but we didn't care, we simply chugged along and enjoyed the ride.  We stopped and ate all the rest stops (was there food?  Man, there was food) we rode with others, then with each other.  It was nice having people to talk to during the ride.  We lined up together for the picture moment at the end, "so no one finishes last".

The second day, huge black clouds loomed and I promised my sweet husband I'd do 30 and get home early.  We rode as a group, pulling along, feeling like part of the Tour as we snaked along the side of the road.  My 30 mile turn came up and before I knew it I was talked into the 40 and just kept on going, I watched the clouds get darker and darker and bagged the 50 figuring that I wasn't going to tempt my luck and turn back!

I learned the lessons of riding in a pack, of keeping the line, how the front riders pulled everyone along (thanks Lori, Dwayne, Keith) yelling about cars, gravel, slowing down, holes, runners and all the things that keep the ride exciting.  I had a great teacher helping me figure out drafting, her waves telling me to get closer to her wheel-throw caution into the wind.  Being with such experienced cyclists was a little unnerving but they helped me ride along and at the end of the each ride when I still felt pretty good, I know it was their work.

We did our 90 miles for muscular dystrophy, we enjoyed each other's company making the rides go by quickly, we drank a few beers and talked a little smack about how much faster we'd be next year as we go for the century.  It's these things that make me sign up for things I really shouldn't sign up for, but putting my first 90 miles in two days (on a new bike) and still feeling alive-no crashes no LOVELY falling over in the clips incidents, I'm already looking at the race calendar.  When have you been pleasantly surprised?

A lesson in humanity - traffic court

I've traveled around the world, I thought I was prepared for anything.  I've squatted over the holes in the floor in Japan to do my business (now I know why they have vending machines just for tissues), I've ridden on the back of a Harley through Sydney, I've watched friends eat coagulated chicken's blood.  I thought I was well traveled, until I hit traffic court....

I got a ticket for expired registration after the sheriff whispered to me, "Probably not a good idea to pass a police officer on the highway." I could just pay the fine, but I'm cheap so I figure I could save the $160 dollars and go to traffic court.

Boy now I know why people just PAY tickets.  I arrive at court 15 minutes early and wait in my car until closer to 9am.  When I go into the courtroom, I realize that a:  it's a first come, first serve system and b: I could be getting in line a lot earlier had I known.  Then I wonder, how did all these people in here know this, are they experienced traffic court sitters?

This court room is such a huge swath of humanity that it takes me back as I sit in the line with two other people WAY TOO close on either side. I sit next to a granny who got busted for doing 91 in a 60 mile hour zone, then another woman who was in her 40s after chemo therapy for colon cancer with her 22 year old boyfriend (yes, we learn too much about each other when stuck in a court room waiting for the judge).  There's too many mullets to count, tatoos, screaming children, saggy and butt revealing pants and then there's.....the smelly dude.  This guy made me think of Pig Pen from the peanuts, remember the dude that had the black cloud that sat around him, this dude had a smell that just sat like a black cloud around him and all of us sitting around him.  As the first odor of stale shit, wafts my way,  I cursed now knowing that had I come in earlier I could be in a MUCH DIFFERENT seat.  Immediately I start breathing through my nose and notice that a few more around him are looking his way and holding their nose, OK, it's not just me.

There's those smells that you can politely dismiss, then there's those smells that are so bad you can almost taste it!  This guy's go a lime green nuclear cloud hanging over him until finally the sheriff feels sorry for us and comes over and sprays odorizer in the direction of the offender.  Our next two hours are lively as we discuss the cause of his smell, the nature of his smell, how to get away from his smell.

After two hours of living in the smell, finally he's called to the seats in the front.  All of us breathe fresh air and sigh in relief until we realize that....."Next 6 take your seats in the front...." we're back in the shit, I mean smell, really it's that close again.  We become friends in this court, joking with each other as he inches closer to the judges chambers on his his ticket is gonna go.  Everyone at this point is holding their nose around him.  FINALLY, he's called into the judges chambers.  Just like we thought, he was there a total of 3 seconds ("DISMISSED, now get out of here!) and black cloud Louie leaves the courtroom.  Several spray hand sanitizer on the seat he occupied, the Sherriff sprays Febreez in his shadow sort of like the flower girl following the bridge with the petals.  In a small way I feel sorry for the dude, maybe he was sick, nah he just needed a shower.

I get called in, my charges get dismissed in 15 seconds so I figure....$160 dollars, 2 hours of enduring Stinkmeister, equates out to $80 dollars an hour - not a bad hourly rate when you think about it.  Mullet anyone?

How a Marriage Works

Jeff and I were talking last night and he asked me, "How many years have we been married?"  Silence......

Funny story about how our marriage works.  Jeff hates it when I waste money in wasting food.  So I bought a whole chicken with the intentions of cooking a gourmet meal for us (lemon, tyme, stuffing all the fixins) but I put the chicken in the bottom drawer of the fridge and promptly forgot about it.  (when's the last time YOU looked in the bottom drawer of your fridge) So a couple of weeks go by and I realize I forgot about the chicken by the smell.  What to do?  Rather than fess up, I go and bury the chicken in the bottom of the trash can and set them out for pickup.  Done deal, lecture averted right?

No, the next morning, we're getting ready and I'm shocked to see my husband running through the house in a business suit with two large white trashbags going up each arm.
"What's going on?"
He stops for a second, "You're not gonna believe this, but there's a raw chicken sitting in our front yard!"
I don't even pause, "How'd that get there?"
He walks out the door, "I don't know but I gotta get it before they think we're into some voodoo shit!"

So there you have it, a great way to keep your marriage happy.......ok, I fessed up as he came back in, but I couldn't help laughing through my confession.  Voodoo shit?  "Those Melangs, you know they've got raw chickens and I swear I smell incense....."

I didn't end up in the dog house by not knowing how many years of bliss, we settled on "a long time" last night as our anniversary approaches, I guess I've got to get out the invitation to count the years.  That's the secret, rolling with the punches and laughing!  Have you ever found a chicken in YOUR front yard?

Ever had one of those days you almost got arrested?

No, I’m not talking about the perfect day in a Mom, when you wake and feel like you actually slept the night, when your children come down completely dressed and ready for school (complete with shoes on their feet), then you get many complimentary emails, beautiful comments from your friends on Facebook and dinner plans that sounds pretty simple.


No, my day was what my children like to call, “opposite day” where rather than the usual relaxing cup of coffee, the Nazi General was out as everyone overslept and I was the only person with the bus on their mind. Kids and hubby ran around like Keystone Cops (man, I’m dating myself) and miracle enough everyone got out of time and I was alone with my thoughts.

I had an agenda on my mind. First get the checks at home into the bank. Drive down Reynolda Road and make it to the bank, but alas, I race through the drive thru at 50 miles per hour, the teller looking at me strangely as I try to mouth, “I forgot the checks!” Back down Reynolda road home picking up the checks. Almost to the bank, I realize I picked up the wrong purse and now with louder curse words to another surprised customer in the parking lot head home again, I wonder why the tell called the manager as she deposits my checks on my third trip to the bank.

Finally home, I get back to my emails and find a few “groans”, you know those emails, the ones you see hit your inbox and you immediately groan before opening. (the good ones that say, NAME OF BILL OPEN IMMEDIATELY or WHY HAVEN"T YOU CALLED YOUR SISTER or VOLUNTEER OPPORTUNITIES NEED ANSWER) Before I can reply, instant message box pops up on Facebook, the cursor blinking-if I leave it alone will it show that I am sleeping? Probably not because I just posted something 1 second ago and someone has already “liked” it!

Two more checks hit the mailbox and I want them in the bank before 2p, time to race Reynolda Road. Just as I am trying to get out of the house, the dog proudly prances in the house after having a blast rolling through some stinky smelling dog shit in the back yard. What to do? I need to make it to the bank, the dog smells like shit so I throw her in the bathroom and shut the door, she can’t spread her joy around the house until I get home.

This time as I go through the drive through of the bank, I notice a police car sitting in the parking lot. Is it because I’ve been driving up and down Reynolda Road and past the bank several times that someone called about “a potential robber casing the joint?” Luckily, I’m not pulled and frisked in front of the bank, a stop at the grocery store reveals that I don’t have my debit card so it’s back home again jiggity jig!

Finally home, I’m lucky enough the dog is small and fits in the sink, she snorts, indignant that I had the gall to wash that LOVELY smelling perfume off of her hair. Oh wait, it’s only 2pm and who just popped up on instant chat on Facebook? Groan!