That Time I (Unknowingly) Met A Country Singer*

Scene: My friend and I are walking up to the bar, excited to see a concert of one of my favorite country singers, Craig Morgan. Enter, Guy on Motorcycle (GOM)

GOM: Hey ladies, what's going on here tonight?

Friend: Craig Morgan is having a concert.

GOM: What does he sing?

Both of us: Country music.

GOM: I know, I meant what songs?

(Friend looks at me to answer, since I am the semi-obsessed fan)

Me: Little Bit of Life, International Harvester, God Must Really Love Me

GOM: I see. Hope you girls have a good time!

(We continue on to the entrance of the bar where we see a few security guys chuckling.)

Bouncer: Did you ladies know the guy on the bike?

(We shake our heads no.)

Bouncer: Yeah... that was Craig Morgan.

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Wow. I have never felt like a bigger dumbass.

Although, in my defense he had on a rather large helmet and aviator sunglasses. And I've only seen him on album covers!

Not as exciting as Katelin meeting Joshua Jackson and announcing her surprise engagement, but I have to work with what I got folks.







Maybe the bouncers were pulling our legs. But really, what male country singer wouldn't approach two ladies who got all dolled up for his concert? :)



*And Was Nearly Trampled For A Guitar Pick

We're Talking Mortifying Here Folks

When you are just getting to know someone, you go through the standard "getting to know you" questions: favorite food, type of music, #1 fear, etc. The question that would always leave me stumped was "What is your most embarrassing moment?". Nothing flat-out mortifying had ever really happened to me... until yesterday.

I was picking up flyers for a freelance job on my way to work. I paid the cashier, lifted the heavy cardboard box and carried it to my car. From there I drove to the parking garage where I unloaded the box, my ridiculously large work tote and headed to work. Up two flights of stairs, crossing a street, walking through the first floor of a mall, finally winding up at the lobby of my office building and getting on the elevator. I see my reflection in the elevator doors as I get on...

My pencil skirt had split up the back right above the slit... I unintentionally flashed America (and probably a co-worker or two).

There are some skirts that you just can't bend in to pick up a large cardboard box and apparently I was wearing one of them. How I didn't notice? I have no idea. But I quickly remedied the situation by standing against the back wall of the elevator, practically running out when I reached my floor (avoiding people at all costs), grabbing a sweater from my co-worker's desk who luckily wasn't in yet, tying it around my waist, and driving back home to change.

Looking on the bright side: 1.) At least I had on cute panties; 2.) You could barely see them, it was mostly all leg; 3.) Further proof to Each that I have a booty.

Horribly embarrassing? Yes. But I sure am laughing about it now!

Care to share an embarrassing moment of your own? I swear I'll laugh with you, not at you.

A Box Full Of Memories

I carried out the last box, and looked around the dark garage full of everything that is now "mine". Wow, this is really happening. So much sadness swept over me at that moment, it was paralyzing. My elbow is still throbbing from my fall earlier. Surely I'll be able to see evidence on my right cheek later as well. But that physical pain doesn't even compare to what's happening to my heart.

I wandered back inside and gathered together a few more things that were lying around. Glanced over to the mantle where our cards were displayed. Big mistake. I sat on the couch and lost it. I couldn't help it. It had been days since I had cried like that, but nothing could stop it. "I love you soooo much" "You're it". Rereading his words again and again. Pure torture. My mom put her arm around me and told me "One day someone will say those words to you again. I promise. You'll find him."

I'm trying to be strong. This has been the longest we've ever went without speaking since the day we met. And there's a chance we may never speak again. I wish this wasn't how it had to end.

Just Call Me A Sucker

School is back in session, so guess what that means? Fundraising. All those little kiddies going door to door sporting their puppy dog eyes and pursed bottom lips. Ringing your doorbell wanting you to spend your hard earned cash on candles, wrapping paper and of course, food.

I tend to have a problem turning these kids away. Candy bars? Sure! I'll take 100. 10% off at all my favorite local shops? Sign me up! I mean really, whoever thought up the idea to send their students door to door to raise money for after-school programs was a genius. Because really, what kind of horrible person would you be to slam the door in their precious faces?!

It's Friday night, Clancy and I are eating dinner (in the living room watching TV because who uses the kitchen table nowadays?). The doorbell rings and he looks at me as if to say "Well, I'm in my boxers so you'll have to get it." I open the door and there are two little girls standing on my front porch clip boards in hand. I'm thinking to myself "Oh shit this is going to cost me."

I shut the door behind me to shield them from the barking dogs and they begin their speech. I flip through the catalogues (yes plural) and tell them sure I'll buy a cheesecake (my weakness!), let me grab my checkbook. I come back and am asked "Which one of us are you going to buy from?" Yes, they were going to make me choose. Are you kidding? They were basically asking me to rip one of their little hearts out and stomp on it. I tell them why don't they take turns with sales, because there is no way I'm going to buy MORE. That seems to be a reasonable answer and they happily walk away with a check for $18. FOR A CHEESECAKE.

I know Clancy won't say anything about me buying from the kids, because he is the same way. Between the two of us we've probably forked over close to $100 on fundraisers so far this year. It's like the kids we bought from a few weeks ago spread the word about the new people on the block. I can hear the conversations in the lunch room now:

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"Seriously guys they can't say no. Just make sure to go in groups so they'll buy from everyone!".

"Which house was it again?"

"The one that was empty forever. Where those mean people used to live." (that's really what the little girls said when I asked if they would remember which house it was)

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Yes, I'm a sucker. I'll admit it. But I will have a delicious strawberry swirl cheesecake to show for it.