What is friendship?

I heard a most ludicrous comment yesterday. Person "A" was telling several people that person "B" was one of their best friends. Then person "A" was writing down some information on person "B", and asked how they spelled their last name, then asked what their spouse's name was.
That comment was ludicrous for two reasons. One) wouldn't you think that if person "B" was truly their "best friend" and had been for many years, then they should already know how to spell their friend's name and what their spouse's name is?

I think a lot of people have a warped sense, or misconceived notion of what a friend really is.
I also think a lot of people have an idea of what qualities they look for in a friend, but aren't necessarily willing to reciprocate or live up to those same qualities in return.

I've heard many, equally ludicrous comments from others over the years about "best friends", and I've often wondered to myself, what constitutes being a "best friend"?

There are all different levels of friendship:
1) Friend(s)
2) Good Friend(s)
3) Best Friend

You may be wondering why I left of the (s) after Best Friend. It's because the term "Best" indicates a singular, solitary unit of the highest excellence, meaning there can only be 1 best friend. All others would fall into one of the other two levels.

Which brings me to reason #2 of why that comment was ludicrous: Person "B" wasn't person "A's" best friend. (I know this for a personal fact). Person "B" should have been regarded as a "friend", or possibly a "good friend". So why not refer to them in the appropriate category? Is calling "B" a friend, somehow a put-down, that they are "less than"? Since when did someone referring to another as a friend, or good-friend, come to be an insult? It's like we have to refer to everyone around us as a "best friend" or else we might lose whatever friendship we have with them.
Personally, I'd rather people put friendship in it's proper place.
What truly annoys me is when I hear people refer to someone as a friend, when they truly aren't, but barely meet the criteria of acquaintance.

I know what my own personal views on what friendship should be, but I have the feeling my
own personal views or definitions are different than most. Oh sure, on the surface, we might define it the same, but if you break it down and truly examine it, I think it would differ greatly.
I did some web-surfing this morning on the subject and came across many interesting (and also many obvious, repetitive) comments.

I am going to do a follow-up blog next month on this topic.
What I'd like from you, my readers, is to either post your comments or email me directly (if you need my email, leave a comment and let me know), and answer the following questions:
Please be honest.
And do not consider your relationship to me or me to you when answering. This isn't about me, you, or anyone specific. I want general thoughts on the subject of friendship, such as qualities you look for in a friend, quantity vs. quality, and any other thoughts you have on the subject.


I thank you for your time! :)

Concerts

I rarely go to concerts, for several reasons.

1) The ticket prices are usually too outrageous

2) I rarely get a good seat and as far away as I have to sit, I can't really see the performers, so I may as well just listen to them on cd/ipod/radio, whatever

3) Most performers now days aren't content to just sing and interact with the audience. They feel they have to have multiple costume changes and dazzling light shows. Personally, those things don't impress me. I want to hear the music and watch the performer(s) sing and engage the audience.

4) The unruly crowds tend to annoy me.

5) I'm don't care to spend "X" amount of money just to stare at the back of the inconsiderate a-holes that insist upon standing up and blocking the view of those behind them. Case in point, this was my view at a recent show:

Asking them to sit down fell on deaf ears. I guess they felt they'd paid just as much money as I, and had a right to stand up.

My husband was a saint though. He really had no interest in the concert, but didn't want me to go alone, so he switched seats with me as he had a clear view.

I really can't even remember the last concert I went to (until this past Friday). I've not been to too many in my life time. These are the few that I can recall:

My first ever was Shaun Cassidy. He was performing at the KY State Fair and I was about 9 years old (+/-). I went with my 2 aunts and their friends. I believe it was at the old Cardinal Stadium.

Air Supply - very good!

Conway Twitty: as much as I love his music, his concert sucked! He came out, sang, and exited the stage. Never got personal with the crowd, didn't even introduce his band. No class at all.

I think both of those were at Louisville Gardens.

Back out to Cardinal Stadium & Freedom Hall during state fair time:

Alabama

The Oak Ridge Boys

Randy Travis

Alan Jackson

Confederate Railroad

All good shows, but our seats always sucked and we were in the nose bleed section.

Chuck Mangione, my mom and I went to see him at The Louisville Palace, and he did NOT disappoint. A great showman!!

Travis Tritt, waaaay back in the early 90's, he put on a free concert at the Louisville Motor Speedway. His career was just getting started, but I was a fan from the very beginning.

Okay, so fast forward about 20 years...

Travis Tritt was back in town this past Friday night. The man was at the zenith of his popularity back in the 90's, and he doesn't draw as big of a crowd as he used to, but he can still put on a heck of a show. He's got a ton of hits under his belts and he knows how to entertain and engage the fans.

The band "Blackberry Smoke" opened for him. I wasn't impressed with them, had never heard of them, couldn't understand most of what they were singing, and so I spent their part of the concert just people-watching. I told the husband it must be nice to be so uninhibited. Some people have no shame over how they behave in public.

Finally, at 9pm, Travis took the stage, and he didn't disappoint. My only disappointment was that we had to leave before the show was over. He was still going strong at 10:15, but since John had to get up in little more than 4 hours to go to work, I sucked it up and insisted we leave.

At one point, they brought out a chair, his band left the stage, and he sat and played guitar by himself and sang some of his hits solo. It felt like a very personal concert.

The tickets were all sold as general-admission, meaning, first come, first serve. Pick out where you want to sit. We chose the 11th row, center stage. We were right on eye level with the performer, and aside from the rude people standing up from time to time, the seats were perfect!

I didn't have much space left on the media card of my camera, so I only have this little snippet of him singing his hit "Country Club". He totally got the crowd involved when he sang this song, and it was a lot of fun.

It was a great evening, and I love my husband so much for spending the time with me, even though he'd probably have preferred to be anywhere but there.

Working for free

I am getting so fed up with working for free! Don't get me wrong, my normal, full-time job pays me for the time I put in.
And I'm not talking about the volunteer work I do. I don't expect payment for that, that is why it's called VOLUNTEER.
It's everyone around me that has outside business interests. I spend an unimaginable amount of time either answering incoming phone calls, collecting monies for their business interest or typing or fielding questions and taking verbal abuse from some of these callers. All because the other people insist upon giving out their work number to their clients that aren't clients of my work place. Does that make sense? And one useless s.o.b. that doesn't work here, but we have close business ties with, won't list his business in the phone book, so every body in the county that needs him calls us for his phone number, and then those that have complaints have to take it out on me so they can get warmed up before calling him. And if he doesn't return their calls immediately (and sometimes he waits a week or two), then I have to take more abuse from these people because he doesn't return their calls.
I am so freaking sick of it!!!
Do you think I can just establish a dollar amount that my time is worth, and start billing these individuals for the work I do for them?
Only problem there is that it's hard to track things that happen in increments of seconds or a couple of minutes. But still, regardless of how short these phone calls are, they add up and take me away from other work I need to be doing (when I have the work to do). And seriously, why should I have to take the verbal abuse from all these people for things those around me do or don't do??? I don't need this stress in my life!
It's not fair!!!!

Racist? or just concerned?

I saw the husband speaking to a neighbor last night, and I was suddenly reminded of something that happened about 12 years ago.
I see this neighbor all the time, so I don't know what it was about last night that suddenly jogged my memory, but it did, and I was instantly reminded of the anger and hurt I felt so many years ago. Anger and hurt at that time that a friend of mine was regarded with such suspicion...

Several years ago, I was working a part-time job at a local gas station/convenience store. I became friends with the guy that normally worked 2nd shift with me, his name was Tim. Over the many months (year and a half?) together, Tim got to know my husband and even my dog, Smokey, and I got to know his fiance', Monique.
The friendship had never gone beyond the work-place. They'd never been to our home, we had never been to theirs, but he knew that we lived very close by the store, close enough for me to walk to work from time to time.
One weeknight evening, I was off work and at home. The doorbell rang, I answered it, and there stood Tim. I was surprised to see him as I knew he should've been at work and of course asked, "what are you doing here? Why aren't you at work?"
He informed me he'd just quit his job and as Monique had dropped him off at work (his van was in the shop), he didn't have any way to get home. He knew we lived close by and just started walking, hoping he'd spot one of our vehicles and that maybe one of us would give him a lift home. I could tell he was upset and invited him in the house to tell me what was going on while I got my car keys. Also, when he saw Smokey standing behind me, he somewhat seemed to calm down because they were "buddies", so I thought it would do him some good to take a few minutes to calm down and get whatever was bothering him off his chest.
I opened the door to let him in and I thought Smokey was going to tear him limb from limb. I'm not sure which of us was more shocked by his reaction, and I had to calm Smokey down and reassure him before he'd finally let Tim more than five feet inside the door. Tim suggested that Smokey could smell the intense anger on him and was just being protective, despite the fact that he knew him.
Long story short, as I said, Tim had quit his job. I don't remember why, but after he'd calmed down, I got my car keys and we walked out of the house to get in my car. I was somewhat dismayed to see three of my neighbors gathered together, gawking at us emerging from the house, arms folded across their chests. They watched our every move. As I drove him the 2 and a half miles to his home, he asked, "is that going to be a problem for you?", referring to my nosey neighbors. I shrugged and said, "it's none of their business."
When I returned home a few minutes later, they were still standing together but broke up their discussion when they saw me and started to scatter. One brazen person walked over to ask if I was alright. I had to really bite my tongue and assure her I was fine and explain the situation, even though it really wasn't any of her business, but I was bristling on the inside.
You see, my friend Tim is a black man.
I know one of those three neighbors hates any and all black people. The other two I'm not sure of.
I don't think they were clustered around in gossip-mode because a white woman and a black man were seen together and they suspected some kind of hanky-panky, I think they just automatically distrusted him based on the color of his skin. And it just really pissed me off!
After I'd had time to reflect on the situation, I tried giving my neighbors the benefit of the doubt that they were simply concerned because it was an unknown person, and we all do try to look out for one another and inform others of strangers lurking in the 'hood.
So were they concerned because of the color of his skin? or simply because he was a stranger?

"Sleep deprivation" or "Having THE Talk"

So many different titles for this blog.
I'm feeling somewhat sleep-deprived this morning, but certainly not as deprived as my husband and his sister.
Their father will be 90 in less than 7 weeks. He still lives alone, but I see a strong need for that to come to an end. He hasn't driven in the past couple of years. Fortunately, there wasn't an argument when it came time to make him hand over the car keys. Now, he relies on his youngest son and daughter and occasionally his granddaughter to take him to all his doctors appointments, grocery shopping, pedicure appointments, to the bank, his attorney, take him out to eat several times a week, etc., etc., etc.
I've been suggesting to my husband that his father for the last 3 or 4 years needed to move into assisted living, and my husband's response is usually along the lines of "yeah, I know, but he doesn't want to...". And that's where the conversation ends.
My f-i-l has fallen several times in the past few months. You may recall back during the winter he fell while going out to get his newspaper and ended up lying in the snow for several hours, ended up in the hospital overnight. It's a wonder he didn't die from exposure!
Since then, he's fallen several more times. I don't know how the man has kept from breaking any bones or getting a concussion, but so far, he's been fortunate to only receive bumps and bruises.
I brought the subject up to my s-i-l recently and her reply was, "what difference would it have made if he'd been living in assisted living, he probably still would have fallen?".
Seriously, how can she be so damn stupid?? Yes, perhaps he might've still fallen, but at least there would be someone right there to constantly check on him, get him his meds, get him medical assistance if he needed it, get him to his appointments, yadda, yadda, yadda. And while the Life-Alert thing he wears has probably saved his life a time or two, it hasn't prevented him from suffering while waiting on a family member to show up. My husband and his sister (and her daughter) all work full-time jobs. It is impossible for my husband to drop what he's doing and go to his dad's assistance while he's at work. Same thing for the granddaughter. While my s-i-l might have the luxury of being able to step away from her job to go help her dad, because she typically refuses to answer her phone when it's a 1-800 number or a caller she doesn't recognize on her caller-id (as she's always afraid it's a bill collector), she is therefore basically useless when he has these emergencies because Life-Alert can't get ahold of her.
Last Friday, my f-i-l fell again and was unresponsive when Life-Alert tried contacting him. They called EMS who arrived and broke down his door to get to him. Of course he refused to be transported. We went and took him out to dinner Saturday evening and the man is so unsteady on his feet, that even with his walker, I kept fearing he'd fall with each step.
Early this morning, at about 12:40, my husband's phone rang, it was again Life-Alert notifying my husband that there was a problem with his dad and they couldn't get a response. We both jumped up from the bed, he calling his sister who, for once, had actually answered her phone and was aware of the situation. She was already in route.
She had called their step-brother who lives closer to dad and asked him to head over there since he could be there quicker. Before we could even get dressed, she called back to say that it was a false-alarm, dad had pushed the panic button by accident, unaware of what he'd done. And having taken out his hearing-aids to go to bed, he didn't hear the calls from Life-Alert.
Somehow we managed to go back to sleep, only to be awakened at 1:30am by L/A calling us back to inform us the situation was under control. (Duh!!).
My husband informed me as we were getting back into bed, that this was actually the second problem his dad had had that day.
Needless to say, we didn't get much sleep last night.
Tired of just hinting that his dad needed to be in assisted living, I now repeatedly and firmly told him that it was simply not safe for his dad to continue living alone. He agreed, for what that's worth. He might agree, but whether or not he'll actually do anything is another story.
I think in his and his sister's mind, putting their father in an assisted living facility is admitting that he's old and feeble. Wake up people!! He's almost 90 years old and he can't take care of himself anymore. Hell yes he's old and feeble!!! But how many more sleepless nights can we, as working-class people, stand? If she's not careful, she's going to lose her job the way she's always taking off to go help him, and my husband can't function on so little sleep with all these late-night calls. I'm blogging right now, mostly to give me something to focus on so I don't fall asleep.
If he doesn't have "The Talk" with her, then by golly, I'm going to have to smack their heads together and make them listen to the voice of reason.

And so ends a 20-year tradition

For the better part of 20 years, on both mother's day and father's day, the husband and I would pick-up a large order of meat from Staten's BBQ in Prospect, and take it to my parents house to celebrate. I'd also take some side dishes as would my sister, and mom usually fixed something as well. I'm not really sure how the tradition started, or the exact year, but it has been this way for a really long time. Sometimes, we'd do this for mom's birthday as well, which is at the end of August.
Once upon a time, when I worked in fairly close proximity to Staten's (before they moved further out US-42 to a bigger location), I'd go there for lunch as well. I can't remember which happened first, me losing that job or them re-locating (or perhaps they happened about the same time), but after that, it got to the point that the only time I got to enjoy their cuisine was on those summer holidays. I always looked forward to it.
Admittedly, something came up last summer at father's day, (I don't remember now what it was), but I didn't even get to go see my father, so that was the first time we missed out on our Staten's tradition.
This year for mother's day, we broke from tradition and took my mother and sister to a baseball game.
As it had now been a year since I'd last enjoyed Staten's, I was extremely looking forward to this father's day. I got up early, tossed some potatoes into the oven, threw a chocolate cake into the crockpot to bake, and fixed another side dish. At 10:47 I left the house to drive out to Staten's, timing it so I'd arrive when they opened at 11am. I parked and walked towards the door, looking at my watch and noting it was 11am on the dot. Perfect timing!!
Imagine my horror when I saw on the door that they were no longer open on Sundays.
What the H??
Needless to say, I'm so disappointed in Staten's new policy of being closed on Sundays. A nearly 20 year tradition has come to an end. :(
Thanks Vince, for ruining our family traditions!

Not even half way yet

As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, I've got a cyber friend that is taking a virtual vacation for 40 days/nights, staying with me and traveling around everywhere I go.
I've had to download my camera 3 times of all the photos I've taken of her "travels" and activities. As I was organizing them today, it struck me that we're not even half way through her visit yet, and I've already got 227 photos.
If I've taken that many in just over 2 weeks and with nearly 4 weeks yet to go, I think it's fair to say that when I do get that blog posted, it will probably be: The Longest Blog Ever Posted in the history of blogging.
Granted, I won't load every single photo, but the majority. And considering how slowly my computer uploads, it might take a couple of days to get the whole blog complete.
It's becoming somewhat of a challenge to come up with new places to visit (especially during the work-week) and things to do, but I'm up for it.
Here's to the next four weeks and hundreds of photos to be taken.
note to self: buy new batteries for camera!!

What goes around...

I'm a firmer believer in "What goes around, comes around", but unfortunately, we're just not always there to see it when it does come back around.
However, this time, I was. :)
I really can't go into specifics in this blog or on the person/situation it revolves around. But let me just give the abbreviated version as best I can (well, maybe not too abbreviated).

A few months ago, I was becoming very unhappy in one area of my life that had previously brought me great joy. I had three options: 1) continue on "status quo" and remain unhappy, 2) walk away from the situation which would have relieved my stress, but still wouldn't have made me happy, or 3) request a schedule change and remove myself from the entities that were causing my unhappiness. I opted for #3.
My request didn't set well with a particular person who tried talking me out of it. I was firm in my desire to change, and it was either honor my request, or I was calling it quits. I didn't present that ultimatum to them, but that was what was in my heart and mind-set. This person in my life felt they needed to have a "come to Jesus" meeting with me and call me out for having made such a request. I received a 2+ hour lecture on several things, including my attitude (correction, my BAD attitude), my anti-social behavior, my unwillingness to work with others and get along, my questioning everything, yadda, yadda, yadda.
Makes me sound like a pretty horrible person, doesn't it?
Yes, sometimes I do have a bad attitude, but sometimes a situation warrants it. But when I'm happy and surrounded by people I like and get along with, my attitude is just fine. Unwilling to work with others?, mmm, well, only if those others make me miserable. Again, when put with people whose company I enjoy, I can work very well with them. It was just unfortunate that at that time, I was surrounded by people I wasn't overly fond of and they made me unhappy. And as for my questions, I'm an inquisitive person and I like to learn. How else can a person learn more on a topic if they don't ask questions??? Often times my questions were lead off by "I don't understand why....?" which perhaps sounds like I'm questioning authority, but again, I'm just curious to know why something is done this way instead of that. What is the upside/downside? So if all that makes me a bad person, so be it.
For the most part, I let that person lecture me that day, just taking the abuse, only occasionally putting in my two-cents worth. If it made that person feel all important, so be it. If listening to that person make themselves feel important for 2 hours was what it was going to take to get my request honored, I could suffer through it. One day... some day... that person would get theirs!!
My request was honored, if only on a month to month basis. Things have been going absolutely fantastic these past several weeks and I couldn't have been happier, or so I thought. I was about to get down right giddy!!
I found out a few days ago, that person will never be bothering me or anyone else in that area of my life, ever again. That person expressed some unhappiness to their boss and the boss decided it was time to have a come to Jesus meeting about everything that was going on. That person decided they didn't like being on the other side of the desk, being the one questioned and lectured, and quit on the spot.
That person's boss is now understanding why I and a few others were so unhappy and unwilling to work in that person's presence.
See, it wasn't just me! It wasn't that I had a bad attitude, well, I probably did, but much of it was brought on by this person. My unwillingness to work with others... wasn't just me!! Others were refusing to show up and work at all, many of them quitting.
I felt a sense of vindication when I learned of this persons departure from that area of my life.
Indeed, what goes around, comes around, and for once, I was there to revel in the glory!!

Bits and Pieces

I've been to Hooters restaurant exactly twice in my life.
The first time was in November of 1992. We were on vacation in Missouri, and went to the Grand Central Station Mall, while there we had lunch at the Hooters located up on the mezzanine. I wasn't impressed back then, with the food or the waitresses in skimpy outfits.
There is a Hooters just a few miles from our house. Not really a convenient place to go to, unless you happen to be visiting someone at the hospital, as it's across the street from that.
From time to time if we were in that vicinity and looking for a place to eat, I always put my foot down and refused to dine there.
Well, what can I say, it's been almost 18 years since my first visit, perhaps I should give in and agree to go dine there again.

We had a wedding we were s'posed to attend on Saturday evening. An outdoor wedding. In 90+ degree heat (100 degree heat-index!!) with major humidity. For two people that had already been working out in it for several hours, sitting through a wedding and reception in that sauna was the last thing either of us felt like doing. But it was one of his family members, so I knew he'd be willing to suck it up and suffer for 2-3 hours, or even longer if he didn't have to work the next day.
That is, until...

I happened to casually mention to the husband a few days prior that it was a shame we had a wedding to go to Saturday evening, because if we didn't, I'd take him to Hooters for dinner. He was instantly agreeable to make a quick exit from the reception.

Okay, for those of you that know me well, I'm sure you can hear the evil little laugh in my head and know that I had an ulterior motive.
Yes, I did.
I had gone on-line earlier in the week and found out what eating establishments within a 20 mile radius would be showing the pay-per-view UFC fights. It was a toss-up between Hooters and BW3's. While not a real fan of either place, I'd have chosen BW3 over Hooters, and not just because of the skimpy outfits. However, time was of the essence, and the Hooters was much closer to the scene of the wedding, so it won out. This time.

We left the reception as soon as possible, using John's need to get up early the next morning as our excuse (it was already after 9pm and we're normally in bed by 9:30)... so it's not like we really lied. We just failed to mention that John had taken a 4 hour nap before going to the wedding, and he didn't have to be at work 'til 2 hours later than usual, so... was it really that bad what we did???
We left, stopped by the nearest firehouse and went in to change in to more comfortable clothes, then made a bee-line to Hooters.
The place was packed!! The hostess wasn't holding out much hope that we'd be able to get a table, but luck was on our side, a couple was just getting up and left, so we literally got the last table. Okay, so our punishment for having left the wedding was to sit in a restaurant that didn't have sufficient air-conditioning to deal with the high humidity outside and the crowd of people inside. I know it had to be over 100 degrees in there. It actually felt better outside, and that's not saying much. I fanned myself the entire 3 hours we were there.
Every drink our waitress brought us, the ice was melted within a couple of minutes.
The fights were great! I just wish it hadn't lasted into the wee hours of the morning, as I felt bad John didn't get much sleep before going to work. I kept telling him we could leave, but he insisted upon staying.
I was in no way impressed with the food. Even by run-of-the-mill deep-fried food standards, it wasn't anything impressive. I guess most people go there simply to drink, stare at pretty girls in tiny outfits, and watch tv. If you're going there for the food, don't waste your time, and especially don't waste your money. They nickel and dime you too death over every little thing.
I think we've both agreed that next time, we'll go to BW3's.
Maybe in another 18 years I'll give Hooters another chance.

As an afterthought...
I was watching a documentary show last night that took place in England. The doctor referred to them man's family jewels as "bits and pieces". So I'm thinking that someone needs to open up a sports bar that caters to the female sports enthusiasts and has all male waiters dressed in nothing but a pair of running shorts. They could call the restaurant "Bits & Pieces". The restaurant could have stringent rules about body-image, same as Hooters. No body hair, no love-handles, rock-hard abs and pecks are preferred, and no visible tattoos. I dare say, I'd be a regular patron, regardless of how the food tasted. :)

Puberty has finally arrived!

Isn't acne something we're supposed to deal with as teenagers?
I suppose I was one of the blessed ones that rarely had to deal with it. Oh sure, I got the occasional one or two zits that would pop out from time to time, but over all, acne was never much of an issue for me.
Over the years as I passed into adulthood and eased into middle-aged, what little acne I had before lessened even more. Still the rare zit would occasionally pop out. Despite some people insisting that it's an old wives tale about chocolate causing it, I'm here to tell you, it was a rare thing that I could eat it and not have at least one zit appear. Old wives tale or not, it happened.
Clearasil was never a staple in my medicine cabinet. I think during my teen years I tried it, with little success. I discovered that a little hydra cortisone-10 cream worked wonders.
So now that I'm firmly settled into my 40's+, puberty has suddenly struck me.
I'm having acne like you would not believe. And I don't just mean one or two zits, here and there.
Does the term "pizza face" bring back any memories? Only problem is, it's mostly in my scalp, but also creeping onto my temples and forehead.
WTH????
I'm 42!! At my age, I should be worrying about crows-feet appearing on my face, not acne!!!!!
I called the dermatologist, but she doesn't have any openings for a month. A whole freaking month! Grrrr!!! Fine, so in the meantime, I'll just stock up on the hydra cortisone-10 cream and hope it helps.

Are you freaking kidding me!?

I got stuck sitting in traffic yesterday, twice!
Two times I say, more than 15 miles and 40 minutes apart, by the same frickin' train!!

Yesterday was not a good day for me.
My day started off badly, when my sleep was interrupted at 1:08 am by the ringing of the doorbell. Anytime the doorbell sounds at that time of the morning, you can be certain nothing good is going to come of it. And it didn't. It was the police.
Long story short: some criminal element were seen trying to break in to our vehicles by a vigilant neighbor. Fortunately, they didn't get in or take anything (from us at least, neighbors weren't so fortunate). They were apprehended by the police, but as this was the 4th time they'd been arrested for the same type crime, it's a sure bet they'll be right back at it before the week is through. Our criminal justice system is no where near as great as television would have us believe. After all that commotion, getting any restful sleep was a moot point. Needless to say, I spent the rest of the day yawning and fighting to stay awake.
The boss let me leave work a half hour early, so I changed clothes for my riding lessons, only to discover I'd forgotten a pair of socks. Grrr! Now I'd have to drive home before going riding. When I left work, I got stuck sitting in traffic waiting for the freight train to pass through town. Waste gas, waste my time! Good thing I had left early so I wouldn't be pressed to get to riding lessons on time.
After I got my socks and left the house, instead of getting right back up on the interstate, I decided to drive down Chamberlain Ln. and stop at the McDonalds on LaGrange Rd. so that I could get a sweet-tea. I was thirsty and riding lessons always leaves me parched, so I like to have a beverage afterwards. Geez-Louise what a mistake that was!!
As I approached the intersection of Chamberlain & LaGrange, I was again stopped by a train passing by. I recognized the grafity on the freight cars and realized it was the same train I'd just been held up by when leaving work. Grrrr! Waste more gas, waste more time.
The train was passing by, then suddenly slowed, then came to a stop. There were only 3 freight cars left to go before it would've completely passed by, but no, it stopped and sat there, tormenting the commuters sitting in traffic. Tempers were flaring (especially mine). Then the darn thing started backing up. WTF????? Then it stopped. GRRRR!!!
Now here comes a train from the opposite direction on the 2nd set of tracks. Fortunately, it was moving at a good pace and didn't stop. Once it had passed through, we expected our antagonistic train would again take off. But it didn't. It sat there a while longer, then backed up some more, then sat a while longer.
Needless to say, that extra time I had started off with had now long sense dwindled away and I was now very pressed for time. Several of the cars in traffic had done U-turns and left the area. I finally did my own U-turn then drove like a bat out of hell to get back to the nearest interstate on-ramp. By now, my blood pressure was spiked to an all-time high and I strongly considered not going to riding lessons, as I felt my bad mood would probably make for a bad ride. But then I decided that being around the horses would probably relax me and that would be just what I needed.
Turns out, I should've gone with my first instinct and just gone home.
I arrived at the stables exactly at 5:30. Technically, that's when class starts, but as I'm always there early, the instructor lets me use that time to get tacked-up which allows me more ride-time. Darn CSX R/R for cutting in to my class time!!!!!
When I walked into the barn, the instructor informed me and the other student that she thought we should try riding the two new horses they'd gotten a month ago. These horses were purchased by the woman's husband to pull a cart or buggy, as a driving-team. That's what they'd been used for prior to purchase. But she insisted they'd been using them the past week or so on trail rides and had been doing beautifully, didn't spook at anything, and felt we'd be fine riding them in class. I had my doubts, but complied with her wishes.
We saddled up and attempted some warm-up laps in the indoor arena. I was having a horrible time with my mount not wanting to turn the direction I wanted her to go, not stopping when I wanted her to stop, and her constant snorting and blowing was telling me she wasn't happy either. We finally headed out to the outdoor arena, where things went from bad to worse.
She insisted upon going the opposite direction of what I wanted. She wouldn't respond to any of my leg pressure commands, so I assumed she'd only ever been taught to steer using neck-reining, so I resorted to that. Still, I was getting no where. I was literally having to pull her head around at every turn. Then the bucking started.
Fortunately, it wasn't wild, rodeo-style bucking, but it was enough to be un-nerving. Once or twice, I could overlook, but it was every few steps and it wasn't making for a pleasant ride. The instructor asked me why she was doing that... Like I should freaking know? As we passed by her, my mount bucked once again and the instructor said, "A-ha!"
Whenever I would nudge the mare with my heel, that's when she was bucking. She wasn't liking the pressure on her sides. Now I was really starting to freak out. I was trying to ride and keep my legs as still as possible, then the thought of dismounting at the end of class and having the horse wig-out started to really mess with my head.
Then, to make matters worse, some of the horses that had been out to pasture suddenly came running around the backside of the arena to get to the gate that lead into the stables. It was dinner time and they didn't want to miss out. The stampeding horses spooked my mount (yes, the very same one that my instructor insisted didn't spook at anything), and she became very unruly. I was doing my best to bring her under control, not lose my wits, trying to maintain some balance and not fall off (which wasn't easy), and follow the instructors directions all the while mentally cussing her out for having put me on a horse that obviously needed more training under saddle. Somehow, I managed to stay on the horses back and get her calmed down. By now, I felt drenched in sweat, was a nervous wreck, and wanted to just throw in the towel and call it a night. But I knew I needed to stay on her a while longer so she wouldn't get the idea that acting up would get her out of being ridden every time.
The foot pain and numbness that normally sets in half way through my lessons, set in as usual. Normally, I suffer through it and finish the lesson. But last night, I used that as my excuse to dismount early and just lead my horse around the arena.
Depending on how you look at things, it could be considered a really good lesson, or a really bad one. Being on an unruly horse isn't a fun experience, and not one I ever want to repeat, but one never knows when a horse is going to act up. The bad behavior I experienced and had to deal with was a good lesson I suppose and one I needed to learn, so in that respect, it was a good class. But considering how crappy my day had been up to that point and how I'd so looked forward to a nice relaxing ride to soothe my frayed nerves, and it did anything but that, it turned out to be a horrible ride and just seemed par for the course on the way things were going for me.
Such is my life.

On a separate note, I'm tired of dealing with the foot pain and numbness, so I finally gave in and called the orthopaedist this morning. They can't work me in 'til late July.
That kinda crap really annoys me. If I were to go to my regular doctor for the pain and she said, "you need to see a specialist, let us call and make the appointment for you", I guarantee they'd work me in within the next week. Darn doctors!! So I'll continue to suffer through it for the next few weeks and then see what he says.

It's definitely monday!

Well, just as suddenly as my "T" and backspace keys stopped working, they once again started working. Go figure!!
So as I was going to say in my last blog and wasn't able to...
I'm having pain in my left foot. I'm wondering if (fearing?) it could be a stress fracture. It hurts like the dickens, at times even throbbing. The pain is in the top of my foot, and at times when it throbs, the pain shoots into my ankle and partially up my leg. I suppose if it hasn't gone away in a couple of days, or if it gets worse, I'll go get it x-rayed. Pitawoman is bumming at the thought of being in a cast and not being able to do... my life!

On a slightly different note...
My blogs will be fewer and farther between for the next 6 weeks. I've got a friend visiting from down-under, on a virtual vacation. As I'm taking her with me everywhere I go, taking pictures of her visiting the Bluegrass State, I'll post all about her 40 days and 40 nights in what will no doubt be the longest blog ever posted. Look for it in mid-July.

In a pickle!

2 keys on my keyboard have ceased working, all of a sudden. So if many of my words seem misspelled, I apologize. he leer in beween "S" and "U" in he alphabe, and my backspace key. How random is ha??

Star Struck

My weekend in review, if a few days late.
The holiday weekend proved to be a busy one for us, go, go go! But would I have it any other way?
Saturday morning, Olivia and I went downtown and participated in the Flags 4 Vets 5k. This years route (for the walkers) was different than last years and this time it took us due west along the Ohio River. I was a bit nervous heading out on the walk, as it was going towards a part of town I try not to go into, and as it was along the river and rail yards, my overactive imagination was running rampant about the dangers. But despite the high temperatures and humidity, the route proved to be nice. Not one I'd ever take by myself, but in a group of people, absolutely!
By the time we got home, I barely had time to change clothes before dashing off to the farm for afternoon chores.
I had hoped to start working with another horse on a painting project, but the barn manager had other plans for us and we worked our butts off for the next 4 hours. I was dead on my feet by the time I arrived home. It's a wonder I didn't drown when I got into the shower. I was in bed by 7pm and slept soundly 'til time to get up the next morning.
Sunday morning, I made a run to Sam's Club, then back home I spent the rest of the afternoon cooking up a storm. I knew it was going to be a busy week for us and that John would be gone most every evening to the firehouse to help with The Crusade for Children, so I fixed enough side dishes (to go with the meat he grilled outside) to simplify things for us as I'd be dining alone, and he'd be choking down a meal before heading to the firehouse or roadblock.
Monday morning, John's only day off during this holiday weekend, I wouldn't allow him to sleep in, but insisted he accompany Livvie and I as we headed back downtown to participate in the annual Memorial Day Mayor's Hike & Bike.
Unfortunately, I screwed up the times and we got their 90 minutes early, so by the time the walk actually started, John & Livvie were both exhausted. Oh well, at least we got a good parking space. ;)
There were several booths set up on the festival lawn, cycling shops, vitamin/health food shops, Subway, and several others. As we walked past the booths and approached Subway, I immediately recognized the gentleman standing out front. I gasped and became somewhat star struck!


Do any of you recognize the man in the purple t-shirt?
I'll give you a few minutes to ponder it before revealing his identity.

Here are a couple of photos of the new downtown arena that's nearly finished being constructed.

You may recall me having posted a far-off picture of the ass-end of this arena a couple of weeks ago, and stating that it looked like the rear end of an RV.

Well, now that you can see the whole thing, what do you think?

Ugly, isn't it? Well, that's MY opinion.

Okay, so back to our celebrity. Did any of you figure it out?

Here's a hint: He was a contestant on one of my favorite shows two seasons ago (last fall).

Give up?

Coach Moe from the Biggest Loser!!

He seemed very nice and was very gracious to everyone that approached him.

Once the hike started, it didn't follow the same route as last year which took us across the 2nd Street Bridge. Instead, it followed the same route Liv and I had just taken on Saturday. But with the slightly lower humidity and more cloud cover, it made for a more pleasant walk this time around. At the turn-around point where water was being handed out, we took Olivia off the walking path and into a grassy area to give her a bowl of water. I didn't realize at the time that there was a raspberry bush growing out of the hill above us and hanging over our heads. As she drank, I looked around at our surroundings and suddenly noticed the berries. After we resumed our walk, I then realized that Olivia had been sitting in a bunch of the berries that were on the ground, and it left several purple stains on her otherwise pristine white fur.

The picture doesn't do it justice, but trust me, she had these purple stains all over her backside.

Fortunately, we'd already made plans to give her a bath that afternoon and with a good wash-rinse-repeat, the stains came out.

Normally, Liv is a nightmare to give a bath to, but she stood relatively still this time around. I'm guessing it was because she was too tired to put up a fight. I guess in the future when I want to bathe her, I'll have to take her on a long walk beforehand.

The holiday weekend is over and we're back at work now, relaxing from all our activities. ;)