Shit rolls down the mountain at NASCAR

My first NASCAR experience at a race was so action-packed.  I'm going to attempt to find the humor in this.  I'm sure there will be references to this in future blogs.  The day had so much, it seems like it should have been three or four days.

No, I am not a NASCAR fan. No, I am not from the South. But I am from a very small town in the Midwest, which I guess qualifies me to be a redneck on the inside. I guess my inner-self has a mullet? I don’t really know. I have one Southern syllable – ong always comes out “oung”, so words like wrong, song, etc make me sound like I’m from here. Whatever that means.

I’ve only watched three races, plus the half-race I saw live. And they have all been this season. My friend, Kelly (also not from the South) loves NASCAR. She asked me to give it a try, because I like sports in general, and we will be roommates soon. Being the open-minded person I am, I agreed (after three years of her telling me to give it a try). The Kobalt Tools 500 was in Atlanta this weekend, so we went.

The day started like any other road trip we take together. EARLY and at Starbucks. We talked and laughed all the way to the track, which is not in Atlanta, as I soon learned. It is south of Atlanta, in a town called Hampton. I was actually pretty excited, because as any sports fan knows, you can watch all you want on TV, but until you see a sport live, it isn’t a sport.

Pre-race (yep, getting the lingo down) didn’t start until noon, but we got to the track about 8:30 in the morning. There is a lot going on in the morning. I learned that people camp out for the whole weekend, cooking out, drinking, and watching the qualifying races. There are every kind of booth and selling point you can imagine. Every driver has a trailer dedicated to his merchandise. There is all the heart attack-inducing food you can eat yourself to death with. There was even a Camel Smokehouse. I was so intrigued, but couldn’t bring myself to go in, even though I am a smoker. On that note, apparently NASCAR is the only smoker-friendly sport left. I started to walk away from the crowds to smoke when it was pointed out that everyone is smoking. (You can even smoke in the stands!) It is an awkward freedom. Georgia is a no-smoking state and to be able to smoke indoors means 1. the establishment does not allow children, or 2. you own the house you are smoking in. As a smoker, one would think I was in paradise, but I was uncomfortable with this.

I bought a hat to support my driver, Kasey Kahne. I picked him, because Kelly told me four weeks ago as I was about to watch my first race, that I had to pick a driver. I originally wanted to pick Mike Bliss, but was told I couldn’t. She is right. In spite of his wonderful name, he is always in the back. And I’m too competitive to have a losing driver. So, if I can’t have my namesake, I will have my favorite number, 9. So I root for Kasey Kahne. And I have the hat to prove it.

A friend was working one of the booths for oral health checks. What a great place to have this! All the smokers within a 200-mile radius are at this event! The booth is set up to check for oral cancer and other things that smoking causes in the mouth. So, of course I had to go. Obsessed with my teeth, supporting a friend, these are the best reasons to participate! So, after walking around, laughing and not eating until after someone looks our mouths, we trotted over to get the good news that our mouths are beautiful.

Time to head to our seats. 36 rows up. Straight up. No need to go to the gym today (or tomorrow for that matter)!

We got to our seats about 15 minutes before pre-race. We got some good pictures of the track and each other. Especially me in that headset! I was learning quickly that normal-looking people like this sport, too. (In fact, we only saw one person with a mullet.) We were talking about the experience so far.

On the way in, we had seen a cup of coffee and donuts on the back of a truck, and wondered it would still be there when we were leaving. People were nice. People were interesting. People were fun to watch.

The anticipation was building.

Headsets, check. Scanner, check. Drinks, camera, ear plugs, check.

NASCAR is exciting. The headsets drown out a lot of the noise and enable me to listen to Mr. Kasey Kahne talk to his pit crew. That’s cool. The first 60 laps were super! Kasey was battling between first and second place the whole time!

Then, the downfall. Literally. The scanner fell. Down. Down 36 rows of aluminum, bounce, bounce, bounce. Kelly went down to retrieve it. Yep, broken. We sat there for about 15 minutes, not knowing what was going on or what to do. We finally made our walk of shame down the bleachers to return it and see what could be done. $180 dollars is what could be done. And they only took credit cards, so they have Kelly’s information. The lady said that if it can be repaired, they could possibly only charge for the repair cost.

Stunned, and with tears streaming down Kelly’s cheeks, we made our way to the nearest bench. I didn’t know what to say.

Once again, we were sitting in silence.

She finally said, “Let’s go.” So we went.

We walked to the car, slowly. We reveled in the fact that what had once looked like a booming area was suddenly like a ghost town. Just the trailers and concession stands remained. No lines. No loudness. Just the vendors cleaning up. We began to laugh again, if nothing else, to simply get through the feeling.

Then we saw it. The spot where the donuts and coffee had been on the truck. The donuts remained. The coffee cup remained. But there was no truck. And there was a beer can. Oddness. But it made us laugh harder. We decided it had been a good day, in spite of everything.

Flash forward an hour and a half later. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, we stopped to get some dinner. I went to get my wallet out of my backpack, and it is not there.

PANIC.

We pulled everything out of my car, and the trunk. Everything. Piece by piece we ripped my car apart. We crawled down to look under the seats. No wallet.

My turn to have a breakdown. My debit card, my driver’s license, and all the cash I had (50 bucks) was gone. And I had no idea how or where or what had happened. I suddenly felt like Kelly and I were standing in the middle of a mountain that shit was sliding down. In the middle. So we were nowhere near the top or the bottom, where we could be safe from the shit.

I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I am not a crier, but I do tend to hyperventilate a little. I also stop thinking and not know what to do. It would be so much easier to just cry.

But then comes the right thoughts. And the action plan.

Call the bank. Cancel the card.

Look up the DMV hours.

Call mom and get a copy of my birth certificate.

I got up an hour early today to go to the DMV and get my license, so I can go to the bank with a picture ID so I can get a card. Good action plan. I’m going to get off this mountain.

So I get to the DMV and the parking lot is empty. SWEET! No lines! I walk up to the door and see that they are closed. Closed. They are not open on Mondays.

Back on the mountain.

I went to the bank without a picture ID, hopeful but not. Luckily, I was able to get an temporary ATM card. So maybe I’m a little farther up the mountain.

The rest of today, I spent with friends helping them set up a good part of their life. And I even got to read a little. Relax and read. I’m hopeful that by tomorrow after I wake up an hour early again, I’ll be on the top of the mountain, away from the sliding shit.

I still like NASCAR. Maybe I’ll even attempt another race again. We’ll see.

Another Day Older and Deeper in Debt

Mr. Merle Travis probably wrote this song (16 Tons) after having some crazy premonition-like dream of the jungle and bid wars, which would eventually turn out to be be the premise behind the founding of both Amazon and Ebay.

This song is always in the back of my mind. Not because I am in debt. I'm not. Not anymore. I actually just paid off the last credit card a few weeks ago! YAY ME! And have resolved to not sign up for anymore. This, in spite of being asked every time I go to, um let's count, TJ Maxx, Kohl's, Macy's, Marshalls, Belk...nevermind, I don't have the energy to type them all out. Let's just say the my only safe haven from being badgered into the allure of 10% with approval is the self-checkout line at Kroger.

Back to the song. I love the movie Joe Versus the Volcano. Never seen it? Yeah, neither has anyone else. Except me. The opening sequence is Tom Hanks (late 80s mullet in tact) walking into his crappy factory job in Staten Island with Eric Burdon crooning in the background. Yes, I know when the movie came out (1990), I wasn't even old enough to work due to the child labor laws. But something about the beat and the emotion of the song stuck. And so here I am, 20 years later, mentioning it,  In public. Whatever. Go rent the movie. And tell me you don't just love the phrase “brain cloud”.

Oh, and it is the first "Tom Hanks-Meg Ryan" match up!  Which led the way for much better movies.  And no, I am not talking about You've Got Mail. 

So why am I even bringing up this magnificantly great B movie from so long ago?  Why title my blog-of-the-day after a song from 1946 (which officially constitutes "oldie" in my book)?  Well...it came to the front part of my brain yesterday.  You see, yesterday morning, I went to Amazon.com to buy a book. Notice what I said. Buy A Book. Singular. One. Not the plural form, which would be books. And I rarely shop on Amazon. I prefer Better World Books, with their carbon-free shipping and their good ethics. However, Amazon was the only place I could find a reasonable price on the the book I was looking for.

And there, beneath the only book I intented to buy that I had just added to my shopping cart, magic words appeared...

DAMN YOU SUGGESTIVE MARKETING! DAMN YOU TO HELL!

Yes, I was in a vulnerable state. I haven't bought anything off the internet in a while. I have been saving and saving and saving. I have no more debt. I am almost done with my current read (you'll hear all about it soon!). And I want to read...




I clicked.

DAMN YOU, SUGGESTIVE MARKETING! DAMN YOU TO HELL!

I bought. FOUR MORE BOOKS.

As I recovered from my indiscretions and pulled myself together from the pain of the number that's about to show up on my bank statement, I realized that I will actually enjoy all of these books and I will have plenty to share about once I get them. Okay, I have been good. I have been saving. And I'm spending my money on books. Not crap. BOOKS. Because I'm a dork like that. I can afford to splurge for the first time in my life and I'm not (also, for the first time in my life) buying crap. I felt better.

Upon awakening this morning, I had some emails from Amazon: “Your order has been shipped.” Five emails. Five orders have been shipped. No remorse now. I'm excited to jump in with both eyes and read, read, read!

So watch out, my fellow readers, I'm about to have a lot to write about. I love discussing books.

Thank you, suggestive marketing! Thank you for knowing what I might like to read!

Whiten my teeth with Google Gadgets? Nah, I'll just floss.

Again, I spent some time today reading about how to make this blog great. Today, it wasn't set-up and content and pizzazz. Instead, I was reading about all the dim-witted things Google has to offer.

Really, this started as a search to fix my comment box, which I have to admit, I still can’t figure out. I went through the entire list of gadgets. First of all , that is not a gadget. I love gadgets. I love computers and cell phones and anything techie. I can keep myself entertained with a gadget for hours. These gadgets, these Google gadgets, well, let’s say, I was done in ten minutes.

Here are some of my top picks for ridiculous-ness.

Penguins – cute, little waddling penguins for your homepage. Um, WHAT? Why would I want waddling penguins on my blog???

Chris Brown Clock – has been removed. I had no comment before I read that it had been removed. But, being that it has been removed, I feel a little better about the morals of god Google. My finger is still scratching my head wondering if I would trust Chris Brown to tell me what time it is. And, if I do trust him, why wouldn’t I just look at 1. My wrist, 2. The clock on my desk, or (possibly the one that makes the most sense) 3. The bottom right-hand corner of my computer screen???

Fish – hungry little fish that swim toward your mouse hoping you’ll drop a few flakes of food. So now I have to double-click around fish? Hmmm...No way.

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets Quotes – Random quotes from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. I love Harry Potter. So, for those of you who don’t know, Chamber of Secrets is in no way current. And the only thing (other than the revelation of Tom), the only quote that comes to mind is “Mummy, have you seen my jumpa?” (Zoom in on big, embarrassed Ginny-eyes...)

The Daily Puppy – A cute puppy picture each and every day. I love dogs. I love love love dogs! Trust me. No one loves dogs like me. BUT, I don’t want a picture of a stranger’s dog on my computer screen each and every day. This just seems weird.

Latest Avril Lavine Quotes – Um, no thank you.

I have saved the best for last. Seriously, the best.

Teeth Whitening – Daily tips to help brighten your smile.

Here’s a tip. Brush. Floss.

For god’s sake, just brush and floss! Holy god. How many days can you see brush and floss?

I am personally obsessed with flossing. Obsessed.  I have floss stashed everywhere.  I have floss.  I have softsticks.  I have flosspicks.  I have toothbrushes and more toothbrushes.  Yep, I even have a toothpaste dispenser (see right).  (Thanks, Pam!  Best present EVER!)

Ask me why you should floss.  Ask me what it prevents.  And ask me what happens if you don't.  But don't ask if you don't want to know.  Because I will tell you.  And you might not like it.

I do have questions from time to time about my teeth. Do I turn to a blog gadget? No. I call a professional. For crying out loud, people. The buried treasure is only $3.59 at Walgreens, and it isn’t even buried.

If I may, I’d recommend the cinnamon flavor. It rocks!

You’ll hear more about my adventures in flossing in another blog, I’m sure. It makes me so happy.

No, I didn’t find the answer to my comment issue. Check it out. If you know how to make the code go away and the punctuation just show up, let me know. If not, I’ll forgive you. Just remember that Google gadgets are weird and dental floss is the only true way to happy, healthy, WHITE teeth.

Homer has some taste...who knew?

I don't have much to report today.  It's been a pretty routine day.  Sorry, but no stories, no blood.

I did hear something random on the radio today.  Grand Funk Railroad is Homer Simpson's favorite band.  Now, I have not watched an entire episode of The Simpsons in years, and it has been longer since I have seen an episode of The Simpsons, and much longer since I have seen an episode, well, shall we say, without anything in my system that would make it really funny...

This new knowledge that I like a band that is Homer's favorite makes me want to watch the show again.  Or at least, find this one and watch it.

My Bobbin’ Brain and How I Got This Hole in My Cheek

When I was eleven, my cousin got married. I was the rice girl - back before they knew rice made birds explode - and there was some drama concerning my dress. Other than that, the only other thing I remember about that wedding is a song that played at the reception. I was minding my own business, socializing and being cute (I mean, being myself), and this sound came out of the speakers and everyone around me starting tapping their feet, or getting up to dance.

“Just take those ol’ records off the shelf, I sit an’ listen to them by myself, today’s music ain’t got the same soul, I like that ol’ time rock n’ roll…”

I was transfixed! This is an awesome song! How come I had never heard this song before? Where can I get mine???

Unfortunately, this was the age before downloads and itunes. (This was even before the age of (affordable) CDs!) There was no way to just google something and have the information in front of my eyes in seconds. I could not find out who was singing this magical song! But I stored the melody in my memory, stored the sound of that voice, and continued with the party.

Fast forward, twenty-two years. Saturday, February 27, 2010. I know now that Bob Seger sings that song. I have known for a long time now. I have several of his albums in my collection, and his greatest hits album is on my ipod. Starting yesterday, Bob has dominated my brain. My head is filled with “you’ll accomp’ny me…, workin’ on the night moves…, turn the page…, and, of course, ol’ time rock n’ roll…”. During my two hours in the car so far today, I have listened exclusively to the Bob Seger Greatest Hits from 1994. And it isn’t enough! I can’t wait until my journey home tonight, when I get to listen to more Bob! Why the sudden obsession with Sir Seger? No idea. Not one freakin’ idea. I mean, I like him, I’ve always liked him. And I listen to the album from time to time, but rarely do I have a compulsion to listen over and over and over again. Just another urge in music. Take it or leave it. But my recommendation is to get out your Bob Seger and rock out. Now.
Now on to the hole in my cheek. I am, of course, exaggerating (I’ve been known to do that). I don’t have a hole in my cheek. But it certainly feels like it. And it is totally my fault. I went to get my eyebrows waxed today. First of all, I would like to say that yesterday, they didn’t need waxing. It always seems like they pop out in the middle of the night, full length -and suddenly, from nowhere - UNI-BROW!!! If anyone has any insight into how exactly this happens, I would appreciate it.
Back to the story. I drove up to Calhoun today to go to the outlet mall and meet Kelly after she got off work. On the way, I realized my eyebrows had, once again, grown overnight. Not knowing anything about Calhoun, I stopped at the first nail salon I saw – the one right across from the outlet mall. As this was an unexpected pit stop, I wasn’t quite prepared, and didn’t go through my normal stages of routine gear-up for eyebrow waxing. (Yes, just one more routine in my OCD life. For more information, read yesterday’s blog.) The routines for waxing are few yet extremely necessary. They consist of a series of deep breathing exercises (about five minutes), and gum. Gum is essential. I bite down just before the waxer rips the strip of paper off my brow in anticipation of the hurt that never actually comes.

Usually, having done my deep breathing, the bite is slight and with the gum strategically placed in two spots between my back upper and lower teeth, there is little tactile notice of my biting.

Unusually, (read: today) I did not breathe. I did not put any gum in my mouth. And when the waxer put that strip of paper on my eyebrow, I chomped. HARD. I tasted blood. Distracted by the pain and that creepy salty taste, as well as trying my best to not cry in front of everyone in the salon, I barely noticed him do the other eyebrow and then tweeze the crap out of the few stubborn hairs that are never removed by wax.

Resigned by my lack of routine, insulted by my own negligence, I walked out of the salon and spit blood like Ivan Drago (that 20-foot tall Russian guy) when Rocky finally got him.  (And couldn't help but think, "If he dies, he dies...) 

So now I have this pain in my mouth, this knot in my gut, and a resolution to never break routine again. No matter how last minute or taken off guard I am. Hopefully, I can keep the resolution. Pain, as they say, is a great motivator.