816

816!

Whenever the time hits 8:16 be it AM or PM I often will yell it out.

It’s become a joke in our family and Hophead and/or Ginja will do it now too. I’ve got them trained well.

816 is today’s date it is also the anniversary of Elvis’s death in 1977. Madonna was born on this day, but even better is it is…

MY BIRTHDAY!

I admit I’m always weird about my birthday. Not really sure why. As a kid everyone was away on summer vacation, or we were away at the beach, so parties with my friends didn’t happen much. I guess I try to overcome my weirdness and remind my family of the date all year long. I’m surprised they don’t yell out their birthday times too, although Hophead did once. I’d like to get in the habit of doing this for all our birthdays and for the kids to annoy their friends yelling out their birthday times.

Not too long ago Experian came out with a commercial just for me (not really but I like to think that).

A Nation of Assholes

Opinions are like Assholes… everyone has one. We are a nation of Assholes, which is very evident by the narrow minded posting all over social media.

I am so tired of the negativity over the newest form of equality Americans have been given. Every time more people are given rights to live more freely in this country people bitch and moan and groan. Remember where you live… Home of the free land of the …. No… Not brave. Not many here are brave just pansies.

I can’t even imagine how hard it must be to break from the so-called normal and do what feels right to your core. Knowing people will persecute you. That is Brave!

Standing up for what you believe [or don’t believe]… That is Brave!

You are allowed to have your opinion but stop the judgment. You have no right to be so judgmental, you are not God.

Stop the bitching and just love your neighbor… unconditionally or keep your judgements to yourself.

This is My Friend

Have you ever met someone and you just clicked?

There is this chick and at one time, long ago before he met me, she dated my husband. I knew of her and would hear about her now and then. Then we moved to Frederick and this is her town except she was living in Colorado. I would hear about her more after I moved to Frederick.

She is this kick ass Mountain Biker. She has no fear and does the intense downhill (like a ski slope hill) Mountain Biking with some serious speed. The guys all knew her and liked her and the women do too.

This was intimidating to me and then she moved back to Frederick with her husband and son. How could I live up to this woman? What I have I gotten myself into? Now I was hearing about her more. People were excited she was back in town. I was having nightmares.

Then one day, at Frederick’s Annual “In The Streets”. Hophead, Squirrely Gurl and I decided to get out of the sun after throwing back a few beers. Off we went to find a bite to eat but all the restaurants were packed but we are locals now and we knew where to go. When we walked in you could almost hear the dun dun DUN! She was there with her Dad, Husband, son and brand new twins. Uggggh! My head isn’t on straight. All I could do is stare.

So what did we do? We all had dinner together.

When we left Squirrely Gurl says, ‘Wait! What? THAT WAS ANGELA?”

After that we would stop by their house and then they would stop by our house and a friendship grew. Funny thing was she had heard how nice I was and yadda yadda. Seems we were both a little nervous to meet each other.

As a woman it is not easy to make friends the older you get or friends you think of like a Sistah.

In March this newest Sistah of mine found a lump. Within less than two weeks she was starting chemo because it’s aggressive so she needs to be aggressive. She is Stage 3 and some of the lymph nodes tested positive.

Her husband is a stay-at-home Dad because twins was not what they were expecting. They have lived on a tight budget on Angela’s salary and now this.

So a month has passed and she has had two chemo treatments and a port was placed. This is all happening so fast.

We are trying to raise money to help out Angela and her family. If you have a little extra you can spare I would be grateful if you could help.

http://www.gofundme.com/AngiesBoobs

Thank you

Survey says… Delay, Delay, Delay, Undelay, Delay

Back in December I wrote about my new job and travelling.  The delays have been a royal pain lately like a boil* on your butt that has to get worse before it gets better and finally calms down, if it doesn’t burst first.

It started with my flight to Houston three weeks ago. Not a big deal just a lot of turbulence, which I kind of like really, except this kind is where if felt like the plane would suddenly drop. Then the flight home that week; I had switched to an earlier flight not knowing about the massive storms moving into Houston. The flight boarded fast and we pushed off from the gate and then… STOPPED. So many flights were rushing to get out so we got stuck.

We sat there on the tarmac as the first storm came through. I was pleasantly surprised that we were able to take off after that first storm so the delay was minimal until we neared National Airport in DC. There was a delay and we had to circle waiting for an all clear to land.

On take off I snapped this pic. Houston had flooding due to all the rain that weekend

By the time I got to baggage claim my original, later, flight was retrieving their baggage before our flight, but at least my suitcase was the first off my plane.

The next week I worked in Houston until Friday and that flight home got delayed 3 hours. The good thing was I got upgraded because everyone else bailed on that flight.

I was not happy about the 3 hour delay but getting upgraded was good so when the survey came in I ignored it. Until… I saw my miles earned under United’s new mile earning program. With the new program it’s based on money rather than actual miles flown. So with my status, my miles earned have been pretty good and more than actual miles flown. Except for this one flight so I was PISSED and I went and found that survey. I gave the crew good points as best I could and then when it came to the comments I rattled off my anger in the most concise manner I could muster. In my comments I mentioned, as I have mentioned before, that base points should be awarded to the flyer when delays are due to the airline rather than Mother Nature or something beyond their control.

I did get an email from the airline, aside from my survey, apologizing for the delay and they did give miles but not base miles.

This past week I was flying home as normal, on Thursday. Around 10am I got an email from United that the flight was delayed 1 hour and 20 minutes. Uggggh! Not again? Within a half hour I got another email that we were on-time again. Undelayed? So happy because I couldn’t take another week of delays and my poor hubby who picks me up, I am SO thankful he does this.

At the gate we were told National was delaying us because of storms in the DC area but only by 30 minutes. When they decided to board us it was fast but then they delayed us again… in the plane… then on the tarmac.

Well I am finally home and I am not flying next week. So here I am Saturday morning and Hophead and I are at our computers and I get an email from United. I feel like they are calling me out on my scathing, ranting comments in the survey and they kind of are but I like this. It tells me my surveys don’t go into never never land.

Surveys are everywhere and it’s nice to know they are seen, reviewed and heard even if we do sound like ranting idiots on them.

 

*Please note that I have no experience with boils on butts. Thank you

My Baby is 20!

Mini Red, a/k/a Ginja, is 20 today!

Can you believe that?

Kiddo, I love you to the moon and back.

-Mama Red

Questing

 

Summer of 1981: I was about to turn 13. My sister was only a few months old and our family of five climbed into the little blue, 1978, Datsun 510 wagon and headed to the beach. As we got older the Folks liked to take us on trips in the area but it was getting tighter in that little wagon. Eventually, the Folks bought a used, full sized, van. The inside had the two front swivel captain chairs and two more right behind them with a table between all four. The rest of the van had shag carpet, on the floors as well as the walls.

Yeah… It was one of those vans! The Folks turned it into a family mobile. The best part of this van were the weekend quests, but they didn’t call them quests then. Dad would drive to wherever we ended up going and Mom would drive home so Dad could get in the way back with the kids and play. No seat belts required back then.

Their adventures changed over the years. I got my driver’s license and the Datsun became mine-ish and I dipped out on the adventures. Eventually, it was just Mom and Dad and their adventures changed over the years.

Today; Hophead and I have started our own adventures. We call it Questing.

It started when we decided to head north to a winery we heard about. We ended up at the wrong winery but in downtown Gettysburg. We found a little Irish shop and our receipt had a 10% off coupon for a local Irish Pub, The Garryowen Irish Pub. The pub was in the opposite direction of where we were heading but we are so glad we went. They have the best Irish Breakfast ever found in the U.S. plus they have 60 Irish Whiskey’s.

We got a seat at the bar and ordered two pints of Guinness. The place was very busy but what caught my eye was the priest in the back having a pint himself. Then a family came in for brunch and the little girl said, “Mommy! Mommy! It’s Father Ritchie! Can I go say hi?”.

Hophead and I just looked at each other as all this went down. How very Irish like this place is including the families too! We continue to go up there every chance we get and take as many people as we can. We are even taking Mom and Dad this weekend.

On that first visit we also came across the opening of Gettysburg Polish Pottery. They have the best selection I have ever come across. We can’t go to Garryowen without stopping and seeing our friends at Gettysburg Polish Pottery.

Our adventures aren’t like Mom and Dad’s but we are having fun questing.

You can find me in da club, bottle full of bub

The Club I’m referring to is the United Club at the airport.

Back in August I took a new job and joined the group of Road Warriors that travel every week. By travel I mean I fly out every Monday and home every Thursday.

I considered the United Club a very cool part of the secret flying society. Only those elite flyers could get in or there is always the people that pay heavily for it.

My coworker brought me, and another, in as guests. This was on a Thursday and that means it is a HUGE business traveler day because business people are all flying home for the week.

I wasn’t so impressed. For one… the toilets don’t flush themselves like every other toilet in the airport. For two… the place was PACKED. Once we found three seats together two went to get drinks… free drinks. OK that is a great perk but no decent IPAs so I got a Cabernet Savignon. The bartender was swamped  but a really cool guy and I loved his holiday tie.

They also had snacks you could help yourself to and this included water. This was another plus because sometimes you just want a small cookie and endless ice water. Hanging in an airport usually means overpriced food and if you want cold water you have to buy it. You will never find veggies in an airport.

The people in the club looked very regular, I don’t know what I was expecting but maybe I expected something more extravagant. I can only assume this is a very different place on any other day, minus all the business travelers.

So far it isn’t something I see myself buying into but I have finally seen past those elusive doors.

Maybe if those toilets flushed themselves I might have more interest.

Bucket Lists

Bucket lists can be made for more than places to travel. It can be for food or activities, like skydiving, or even skills.

I’m in my hotel room in Houston working before Hophead arrives to celebrate our anniversary this weekend. I have the TV on for company.

I don’t know how I ended up on the Bravo channel but I did and it was and a Below Deck Reunion Show with Andy Cohen was on. At some point in the season a chick named Kate put a blanket in the shape of a dick/rocket ship on a customer’s bed. What a great way to express your feelings towards someone and to call them a dick. Now that is a skill.

You can watch a clip here.

I found this fascinating and want to learn how to do this. New bucket list item!

I found a how to video. Yay!

Don’t Make Me Say It

The search begins…

It’s not there. I swore it was in the desk drawer.

Ok… Let me think a minute… I can see it in my head. I see it there… and there… and there.

Not there. Where is it?

Ok… I’ll go look upstairs in my room. I can see it in my head. I see it there… and there… and there.

Not there either. Where is it?

Ugggh. I really don’t even want to go to the basement. I really should check there but I’m not feeling it. It has to be in the basement because it isn’t anywhere else.

I go to the dirty basement and walk over to the shelves. I’m not even going to look in the green box because I was in that box just two days ago. I KNOW it’s not in the photo boxes because there just isn’t any room. I check the basket, which is the only place I feel it might be.

Not there either. Where is it?

I walk along the shelves.

I’m not feeling this.

I stand in the middle of this chaos that is called the basement and scan the entire place.

I’m not feeling this.

I go to the other side of the basement where Hophead keeps most of his tools. I check the white shelves because it can’t be anywhere else.

Not there either. Where is it?

It’s not even that important. I’m just stuck on finding it especially now that I’ve stopped everything else I was doing.

Please don’t make me say your name.

You always come through for Hophead. Go figure? He has never had religion. I was the Catholic then the “Cafeteria Catholic” and now the “Catholic in Remission”.

Yeah, Remission! I am free from Catholicism… Sort of. I can never be free of Catholicism because it’s in my core. This is how I was raised, not-to-mention Aunt Dot.

Aunt Dot always had a Patron Saint for any situation and sometimes there was even a prayer to go along with it;

“St. Anne, St. Anne send me a man as fast as you can.”

Yeup, I’ve used that one and shared it with many of my single girlfriends. Last time I used it I added a “For realz this time” and then I met Hophead.

Since I was a little girl the one prayer I ALWAYS used was to St. Anthony, patron saint of lost and stolen articles;

“Dear St. Anthony, Something is lost and can’t be found. Please help me find it.”

Not sure if that is the official prayer. I tended to start everything off like I was writing a letter; “Dear God…”. Maybe I would have had faster results if I added;  “… Yours Truly, Reddudette”.

A few years back Hophead was desperately searching for something and I told him about St. Anthony and THE (my) prayer. It worked like a charm! Kinda freaked Hophead out a bit due to how well it worked.

For a while there, St. Anthony wasn’t always so helpful for me. Maybe he was too busy with Hophead? Maybe he was not happy with my “Catholicism in Remission”?

So I stopped praying to him…Until… this morning.

Please don’t make me say your name.

Ok, ok…

“St. Anthony please help me find this stoopid thing”

I went back to the desk, which is the first place I looked. Opened the drawer further and BAM! There it was.

As soon as I said his name… It worked!

I just can’t get away from it… The Catholic upbringing. Then again I don’t want to.

 

Is He Wearing Pants?

Every time this AT&T commercial comes on I think the guy in the ceiling is sans pants.