After a fast and crappy weekend, there is finally a little bit of happiness.

On my way to the opening day of Dickens in November I was pulled over for talking on my cell phone. It was right after thanksgiving, and the damn cop was apparently not thankful for me, my tinted windows, or the glow of my iPhone through the tinted windows. In my defense, I was only on the phone for 4.8 seconds verifying which freeway exit to take in SF. It was really one of my shortest cell phone conversations ever. (I shouldn't mention that The Hubby- right before I left for SF- warned me about using my cell while driving. Dammit. )

I acknowledged that I made a mistake, and was worried since I didn't know the area (not entirely untrue), and even brought out the damsel in distress water works when he came back to give me my ticket (Come on, it was 9AM and I hadn't had any coffee yet!). A ticket for the cell phone, a "warning" for the tint job. I could tell I made him really uncomfortable with the quite tears as he explained to me how to get back on the freeway.*

I didn't get my courtesy notice. Still didn't, then still didn't, almost three months later and I still didn't. Then after worrying that maybe I'd really be in trouble if I didn't pony up my cash for a ticket that NOBODY ELSE has received since the hands-free law was passed, I called. And looked online.

No ticket.
The guy didn't put my ticket in the system.
OMG, no ticket!!

I think I may send him a Thank You note for having a heart.

*I've been pulled over before, but have yet to receive a ticket beyond a "fix-it" ticket, and I have never shed a tear before. I'm kind of excited that it worked, but don't think I'll pull that trick again...Honestly...

Some Daily Rumi

Out beyond the ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I'll meet you there.
~ Jalal-Ad-Din Rumi

Today is my second day at work wearing gym clothes. My justification is as follows:

1. I am in an office by myself
2. My office is in a house usually by myself (In the middle of a ranch in the middle of nowhere for goodness sake)
3. 9.97 times out of 10 I do not see anybody who doesn't work for the same company
4. It will encourage me to run around the vineyard on my break
5. I will fill stupid for wearing gym clothes to work if I do not run on my break
6. They are not sweats, so I don't give the illusion of giving up on life
7. It easier to get ready in the morning, so I am able to sleep in 10.75 minutes longer.

I know, I know, the uni-boob isn't the sexiest, but I try to counter it by looking cute in the face and wearing casual gym clothes and not the Go-to-the-gym-to-be-social-and-cute-and-not-really-work-out clothes, which draws attention away from the form of your body.

I'd like to keep this trend up, however I'm going to have to decide if I'll attempt running when it rains. I'm not sure how productive I'm going to be afterwords if I'm covered in mud.

The best way out is always through.

~Robert Frost

Seriously?

Can we talk for a second about the crazy lady that just had eight kids?

EIGHT F-ING BABIES!!!!

Let me first say that nature is against women having eight children during gestation, otherwise we'd answer to the name Pussy and we'd have more than two tits. Oh- and we'd be able to do it naturally.

Observe, the litter:

I wont even go into the fact that she already has six other children, is single and unemployed.

(For the record, I give mad props to single mothers- my own mom included- but purposefully having that many children when you already have six? [Did I just use "mad props" in a sentence?])

Bouts of depression and all she wants is children. She doesn't need in vitro fertilization, she needs a fucking therapist and some Zoloft.

Who said Hockey is White Trash??

I almost forgot! The Hubby and I went to our first professional hockey game this last Thursday with our neighbors; Sharks v. Coyotes.

Not only did we have a free parking pass, but our sets were in row ten in the club level. We got there when the doors opened and went straight for the club bar (of course). I couldn't decide on what I wanted to drink until I had my first sip of beer and knew immediately I wanted a gin & tonic. I asked my new buddy Rich, who looked like he's been a bartender in the conspicuous bar that sits on the corner of every town and has no windows since about 1967. Complete with missing teeth and husky voice. Talk about a heavy hand. I've had bartenders before who would pour a bit beyond the shot being full, but good ol' Rich not only over-flowed that, but kept pouring into the teeny-tiny plastic cup...With a *dash* of tonic. Holy Sweet Jesus, there is a gin god.

(I should note here that I have learned, as has The Hubby, to not try and keep pace with the neighbor, who is about 250 and drinks like a fish. He has 2.5 Crown and 7's to my one G & T.)

Since the game was about to start I decided that it was a good idea to get a double so I could save myself a trip and focus on the game. By this time the bar was packed, with two thirty-something guys next to me, then two 60 somethings next to them curving around the bar. I ordered my double Sapphire & tonic. The young guys said that there was nothing quite like a little blond girl ordering a double. The older guys not only told me that I was amazing for having a taste for Sapphire, since that's what they were drinking, but that I was a "keeper" due to the fact that I ordered a double. I didn't mention that I was just lazy and wanted a nice gin buzz. Rich asked if I wanted a small or large cup, then proceeded to pour what was more like three and a half shots into my double. I walked to our seats as a happy small blond girl. Here's my only picture of the night:

Bless crazy Rich and his heavy hand. It makes me not as mad to pay $16 for a drink. I don't remember logistics of the game (I had one more single G&T), except that it was amazingly fun and exciting. I even jumped out of my seat a few times.

I'll never watch hockey on TV, but I'll be dammed if I ever turn down a ticket to actually go to the game.

As The World Turns