you've got a fast car

2 posts in one week? to what do we owe this pleasure you ask? Well, I'm just trying to keep myself awake at work today and ran out of things to do. Monday I found myself working at an undisclosed location in east bumble, Georgia with who I so lovingly refer to as Dr. McDreamy (behind his back, of course). With this being a Monday morning, most would expect me to be pouting, cranky, and half asleep until 9:30. I was actually in a relatively good mood. I was working with McDreamy and I'd probably be done by noon so I could go do important things like get my oil changed, perhaps run by Target, maybe even wash my car if there was time (we'll talk more about my car in a minute)...this was a good day. 14 hours later, when I was in the same spot with 58 degree temperatures, I was no longer singing the Cinderella theme song while imagining woodland creatures dancing on my shoulder as I skipped merrily through the forest. Instead, all I could think about was whether or not I was going to attempt to gnaw off my left arm or wait until I could hijack the nearest fast food place. McDreamy had lost his sparkle; and I was tired, hungry, and cranky...just ask my family how well this scenario usually works out....
the good news is I got in bed only 21 hours after I had woken up, I eventually ate, and the world was a happy place again...until 7:28 Tuesday morning.
The black stallion (my car) arrived approximately 2 minutes early to chauffeur the duchess to the airport for her flight to South America. I'm already planning my day when I'm about to pull in her driveway. I note that her trash can is out, so I may want to not smack into that. I also note that a car is coming towards me, so I slow down so I can still swing out wide to get in between said trash can and the brick steps/hand rail. I slow down, jackass slows down. I sit there annoyed with my blinker on trying to show this guy that I'm trying to make a right turn I mean come onnnnnnnnnnnnnn. He doesn't move. Now. Here is where I made my tragic mistake. Instead of being PATIENT and waiting for this gentleman to move, I get pissed. I forget for a splitttttttttttt second that I drive an SUV. Not a matchbox car. I slam my car into the driveway and promptly run the entire length of my rear passenger door and trunk area down her wrought-iron handrails. Now. My first thought is, "uhh, did I hit the trashcan?" I get out, realize the trashcan is still chilling my the side of the road. Then I get a little nervous. My second thought was "OH SHIT, replacing that railing is really going to be expensive, I guess I should probably return everything I bought at GAP last weekend." I was honestly relieved that the only damage was on my car, because I'm a moron and deserved it. After I got over that my next thought was a pattern of several curse words that would have caused my mother to wash my mouth out with soap (yes, she did this to me on more than one occasion...see how well that worked out?) UGH. Not a great start to the week. I had an estimate done on it yesterday and the guy told me it would be just under a thousand dollars to fix. Now, we all know I laughed at him and walked out, but I'm planning on taking it to a few more places to see what other kinds of numbers I get. In the meantime, I'm holding on to knowing that my week WILL get better. Jack Johnson in concert on Friday. Yes, please.

carolina in my mind

I originally was going to title this entry after the timeless classic by Petey Pablo "north carolina, come and and raise up" but wasn't sure how many people would understand my love of rap music from the early 2000s. So I went with the old standby James Taylor. But anyway- the fam and I just returned (well, like almost a month ago now, but I've been busy) from our 17th (or 18th...there was some debate on this) year of going to the outer banks in NC. We go with another family we used to live near in Connecticut. I think we're all a little surprised we're still going after all these years, but even with big kid jobs, spouses (i'm talking to you Grady), and college we all always seem to make it for at the very least a couple days. Things have changed a little bit over the years, instead of sand castles and juice boxes its become beer and books, but it's always an adventure. I remember one year, I'm thinking I was 11 or 12 and it was probably around 11 or 12 at night.
We were on our way back from riding our bikes to the grocery store (busy 2 lane highway? no problems, beeeee carefulllll kidsssssssss, look both ways, mommy loves you). That particular year another family came, and they had 3 older boys. One of them decided he would sneak into the community pool and go skinny dipping. We all thought this would be hilarious and stood outside the gates giggling. I don't remember if the police car had its lights flashing or not, but I do remember thinking that my life was over, and I was going to jail. I mean, was I going to lose my citizenship award I had just received from my school in June? The police ended up escorting us back to our house, bicycles and all, where I was convinced my parents were going to kill me. We were let go into our parents custody (where the interaction went something like this so I'm told):
Police: Do you know where your children are?
Parentals: Hellooooooo occifer. Tank you.
I ran immediately into my room and climbed under the covers of my top bunk. Finally my mom came in and told me it wasn't a big deal, to calm down, life was not over, I would not lose my citizenship award, and frankly she was glad to see me get in a little bit of trouble. She probably regretted saying that when my teen/college years approached not too far afterwards, but then again my halo is always shining so brightly she may not have ever noticed....
Even with classic memories like that I have to say that this year was probably the most fun we've had in a long time...might I dare say ever? Night one was epic. First of all, anyone who has known me for more than an hour knows that I do NOT shake my tail feathers unless I have consumed an ungodly amount of liquid courage. I blame my mother for this..if ONLY she had enrolled me in darla's duchess dance classes maybe, just maybe......
Back to the beach. It was raining, so instead of being able to lounge on the sand, we were confined to the house. This lead to an much larger than normal intake of adult beverages. We ate dinner at the usual time of 10pm when someone made the crucial yet annual mistake of bringing up politics/heath care/whatever the hell it was we were arguing about. About 2.5 seconds into this discussion and after hearing myself slur something about health care; I looked at the other girls and we decided to go onto the deck with the iPod and speakers.
I'm pretty sure the entire neighborhood either saw or heard the commotion coming from our back deck. I know at one point there was one family crowded around their kitchen sink window watching the dance off. I was slightly humiliated until they showed up on the beach the next day in speedos...game, set, match, I win. Although this is how all 12 of us look on the beach from about 10am-7pm, so it might be a toss up.
It was most definitely memorable, even if some parts needed to put back together in my mind through photographs. Every time I hear the Cupid Shuffle I have to smile a little bit and think "JESUS TRACY WHY COULDN'T YOU HAVE JUST FORCED ME TO GO TO DANCE CLASS INSTEAD OF GIVING ME LITTLE BOY HAIRCUTS."