On Vacation

I'm off to the greatest city on earth: Amsterdam.

I'll be back on January 3rd. In the meantime, read a book.

Merry Effing Christmas

From Me To You.

Christmas Spirit

Holy Freakin Crap! Memphis got hit with an icestorm yesterday and life sux! Needless to say, I didn't make it out to the Deli last night, but instead hung with Mark at his place while we tried to look for something to do NYE.

I procrastinated, as usual on taking care of a lot of stuff for X-mas, thinking that I had Thursday and Friday to finish up. Well, now the roads are all a sheet of ice and my morning has been a comedy of errors. Listen:

I went to pick up my car from the body shop today. I have been driving the crappiest rental on the planet: a gold Chevy Cavalier. The shop only takes cash, so I had to go to my bank to get the money because I can only take out $500 a day from an ATM. I owed the shop $560 (which explains why you aren't getting a x-mas present, in case you felt shortchanged) so if I took the money out of a cash machine, I would be SOL if I needed money tonight. Guess where my bank is? The freaking airport! (it's a credit union)

So, I drive 5 miles an hour to the airport, park, go in, get money, then drive 5 miles an hour out to Bartlett to Enterprise to return my ghetto-stylee, broken-CD-player, no-windshield-wiper-workin piece of crap rental, cursing everyone who got in my way. Right before I get to the rental place I remembered that I needed to fill up the tank or get charged out the ass for gas. So, I pulled into a gas station and up to the gas pump. Then as I climbed out of the car, I hit my knee on the door, realizing as the pain set in that the tank was on the other side of the car. I jumped around in the parking lot until my knee stopped hurting and then got back into my car to turn it around. I got out of my car again and went to open the flap that covers the gas tank, only to realize that it was frozen solid. So, now I couldn't open it to put the gas in. So, I thought, "Eff it! I'll just pay the rental place to put gas in the car."

So, I got back in and started to pull away. Then I changed my minnd and turned around and pulled back up to the pump. Hot water melts ice right? I got out of the car and walked into MAPCO and asked the attendent if I could have a cup to pour hot water in from the coffee maker so that I could melt the ice that was causing it to be frozen shut. OK, get this: She says NO, because every cup is counted and I have to buy a cup of coffee if I want the cup.

GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZUS!

Ok, Whatever! I bought the cup for .75 cents and filled it up with water and dealt with the gas situation. Fine. Then I continued to drive to the rental place to drop off the car. As I was pulling in, I get a call from Mark, so I was trying to talk to him and trying to pull all the crap that people had left in my rental, including Patrik's jacket, gloves and hat, all while trying not to slip and bust my ass on the sheet of glass that was the parking lot.

I managed to make it inside and was then mortified to learn that I owed them over $100 dollars, not for the rental, but for the insurance coverage I elected. I did not have to pay for the rental, my insurance covered that, but the last time I had a rental, it was keyed and it cost me $300, so I asked for the extra insurance this time, having no idea that it would be so much! So, I got really pissed and was very short with the clerk as I handed over my debit card. I then tersely asked for a ride to the shop where my car was. The clerk that I had just dealt with was the one chosen to be my chauffer.

She was a young lady, probably around 22 years old with a very high voice. I guess she felt awkward with me in the car and decided to try to make conversation.

"So, why is your car in the shop?"

"I had a car wreck."

"Oh, no. What happened?"

"My car hit another car."

"Oh.......Well, are you going out of town for Christmas?"

"Do we have to talk?"

"Uh, no."

So, I was mean. I didn't care. I was pissed. Which would have been fine, but after she let me off at the body shop and I put all of my stuff in my car, I realized that I was missing Patrik's hat, the one he really really really likes. So, I had to drive back to the rental place, go inside and politely ask the young lady to search her car for the hat. Luckily, it was in the car. Cause if it hadn't been I might have gone off on her again.

We won't even mention who was at the rental place when I went back. But I bet Ellen could guess - and guess who had on no make-up and a sunburn (don't ask). Could my day get any worse? Oh, baby, don't you know it!

My final stop before going back home was K-Mart to return something that amounted to another disaster story which I don't even have the patience to get into. So, I parked my car and went inside and made my return. I left the store and as I was walking to my car I got run into. Not by a cart, mind you, not by a person, but by a car. Seriously, I got hit by a car this afternoon.

This guy was making a turn and started to slide, I heard the car behind me and I turned to see it coming right for me. I had just enough time to let out a very deadpan "Fuck" before the car hit me and knocked me to the ground.

So, as I am laying on the ground, all of these people ran up to try and help. I'm laying there looking up at the sky and the first thing that runs through my head is:

I really don't need this today, I've got shit to do.

The guy that hit me ran over and he's apologizing and freaking out. All of these people are asking me if I need an ambulance and freaking out. I'm the only one who wasn't freaking out and I was the one who got hit! I was just sitting there thinking about all the other things I needed to do, like go home and figure out how to upload the pictures from my new camera so that I would have some memory to take pictures tonight. So, I stood up and said, "I'm fine. Thanks" and hobbled towards my car, leaving the crowd that had gathered dumbfounded.

Maybe that wasn't the right thing to do. I don't know. I could walk, so what else could anyone have done for me? I mean, it's kind of weird that someone could hit you with their car and just be able to drive away, not have to deal with the police or an ambulance or an insurance company, but other than a giant bruise on the back of my leg, there wasn't that much damage. I mean, the alternative was waiting eleventy thousand hours for an ambulance to come and take me to the emergency room, where I could sit with the sus that hit me. Then I could be charged out the ass for the visit, only to find out that the guy didn't have insurance, so I would be responsible for the 10 gazillion dollar bill and promptly have to declare bankruptcy.

So, yeah, I think I made the right decision.

Besides, I was feeling in the Christmas Spirit today.

The Week Ahead

I think I am finally slowing down after a whirlwind of activity since arriving back in town. Monday night Patrik, Eric and I hit the Harlan T. Bobo show at the Hi-Tone. It was really great, you can read more about what I thought and check out a couple of songs here. He's playing the next 3 monday nights there before moving on to the Glass Onion, I highly suggest you check him out.

Yesterday was spent movie hopping at The Muvico. I saw Spanglish and finding Neverland with The P-man. Both were good, but for some reason it felt like there were a couple of scenes missing from Spanglish and Finding Neverland seemed a little short, believe it or not. After the movies we went Christmas shopping, then I came home and went to bed at 8.

So, here's the plan for the next few days:

Wednesday - North Mississippi Allstars @ The Deli
Thursday - Sushi @ Blue Fin / Mr. White X-Mas Party @ Melange
Friday - Spend X-Mas Eve with the folx
Saturday - DJ BUCK WILDERS Christmas show w/ THE HOOK UP @ Hi-Tone
Sunday - Probably Melange, but who knows?
Monday - Harlan T. Bobo @ Hi-Tone
Tuesday - Leave for Amsterdam

Remember a couple of weeks ago when I was bitching a lot? Yeah, well, I'm a dumbass.

Thursday Night Fever

Christmas Crunk

Helllllllllllllloooooooooooooooo.

How's tricks? I'm back in town from a long and exhausting, yet incredibly exciting and fulfilling trip. It took me about 7 hours, including a hour and a half van ride, 2 flights and a layover to get home Saturday afternoon, but the first class ticket made the journey a little bit more bearable. I got back in town and cured my shopping withdrawels by going straight to the mall and purchasing a new cell phone, a digital camera, and some clothes. Dude, per diems rawk the house!

After my little shopping spree I raced home and got ready to go pick up Greg. We went to Texas De Brazil for a little meat orgy before bar hopping, landing at a house party and then continuing on to The King of Crops soiree at XYZ. (Yes, I was informed of all the drama that went on when I was out of town, including the flier nonsense.)

Anyway, the music at the party was really great, I even got up and shook the tush momentarily, but I must confess, my friends and I kind of got stuck at the bar as we all tried to catch up. There were lots of birthdays in the house, including the lovely Megan's. As an early Christmas present, I managed to get a girl to take her shirt off for Greg. It took some skill, but I made it happen. By 3:30 AM we weren't quite ready to call it a night so we moved on to Alex's and droooled over the bartender, well, some of us did. Others, not so much.

Sunday Greg and I went to lunch and then did some x-mas shopping. We made a couple of stops at some friend's homes to spread some holiday cheer (and to recieve some) and then headed to meet Patrik and Eric to see Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Event's: The Bad Beginnings. I read all of the books a few years ago when the company I worked for was trying to get the rights to turn them into an animated series. They are exactly the type of books I would have read as a child. I love them, and the movie is quite fantastic too. Don't miss the end credits if you go and see it. Purrrrrrrrrrfection!

Bonus: We also got to see the teaser trailer for War of the Worlds.

After the movie we stopped by James' house to hang for a minute and then we moved on to Melange for general crunknes. Patrik doesn't ususally dig Sunday nights at Melange, but I think he genuinely had a great time last night. We had a table for once and even though the general crowd is sometimes questionable, this particular night was pretty hype. Everything was going pretty well until I was walking through the crowd and got pulled into a mass dance jumble, which was fun until I felt some guy's hand try to go down the back of my pants. Usually that type of behavior would have resulted in a broken nose, fer reals, but I felt in the spirit and just walked away and ignored. If he only knew.

Our last stop of the evening was CK's on Belevedere where we sopped up the vodka and beer in our bellies with potatoes and grease. We were the only ones there for most of our meal, but towards the end a large crowd of fellow club fare filed in. The jukebox was in our full control since we hadn't been competing with any other patrons and we wanted to stay and finish listening to our tunes. The next thing that happened was one of those things that you see in a movie and think is cheesy cause it's so not realistic.

Papa was A Rolling Stone came on and a guy sitting in a booth behind us busted out a pitch perfect sing-a-long to the opening lyrics. Well, since Eric played the song - he had to show this guy who was the man by answering with the second line, and it just all dominoed from there. It was 4 AM and the entire restaurant busted out into a sing-a-long, complete with hand claps. I kid you not.

There will be a gallery of the weekend's events. Stay tuned.

Holiday Plans?

p.h.c.f.y.s.b.

So, I had the great pleasure of bar hopping with the infamous Uncle Grambo of Whatevs.org back in September when we attended the Project D.U. blogger conference. Mark has created some of the most widely borrowed and original slang in the bloggersphere. It's funny, catty, snarky and I steal from him all the time. However, even as a loyal reader, there are still things that he writes that I have no idea what he's talking about.

So, I asked him for a glossary. He directed me here.

So, if you're new to Whatevs - this should help.

If you're an old-timer, well then, bovs on your respective tees.

Merry Christmas to Me

Kettle One on the CHEAP

These people have way too much time on their hands.

New Jersey has the most pure Heroin. (Note to Self: Don't shoot up on the west coast)

Whore and Whorer

New Favorite Blog

P.S. COmments are working again.

Coming Attractions

Check out the trailer for the last film I worked on before leaving NYC.

They used The Postal Service in the preview, natch.

Imaginary Heroes

Crunktime at XYZ

Wow, this week I have learned to appreciate something that I ususally hate. HUMIDITY! The air is really dry in the city where I am staying and between that and the 50 thread count sheets on the bed in my hotel room, my skin is starting to itch and flake. I slathered my entire body in lotion last night in order to counteract the elements.

Anyway, enough about my skin ailments. Have I mentioned that my buddies the King of Crops crew is throwing me a welcome home party on Saturday night? It's at XYZ and starts at 11:30.

OK, ok, it's not really for me. It's a holiday party featuring The Memphis Feelharmionic DJ Symphony Orchestra. But I will be there and you should be there too!

Comments

I feel like I'm here all by myself. Comments are now back on.

Carry On.

Extraordinary Machine

I certainly haven't been shopping for any new shoes
And I certainly haven't been spreading myself around
I still only travel by foot and by foot it's a slow climb
But I'm good at being uncomfortable so I can't stop changing all the time

I noticed that my opponent is always on the go
And won't go slow so as not to focus and I notice
He'll hitch a ride with any guide as long as they go fast from whence he came
But he's no good at being uncomfortable so he can't stop staying exactly the same

If there was a better way to go then it would find me
I can't help it the road just rolls out behind me
Be kind to me or treat me mean
I make the most of it I'm an extraordinary machine

I seem to you to seek a new disaster every day
You deem me doomed to clean my view and be at peace and lay
I mean to prove I mean to move in my own way
And say I've been getting along for long before you came into the play

I am the baby of the family
It happens so everybody cares
And wear the sheeps clothes while they chaperone
Curious you're looking down your nose at me while you appease
Curteous to try and help but let me set your mind at ease

If there was a better way to go then it would find me
I can't help it the road just rolls out behind me
Be kind to me or treat me mean
I make the most of it I'm an extraordinary machine

Do I so worry you?
Do I need to hurry to say it's very kind
But it's to no avail
I don't want the veil of flowers to
No everything will be just fine

If there was a better way to go then it would find me
I can't help it the road just rolls out behind me
Be kind to me or treat me mean
I make the most of it I'm an extraordinary machine

~ Fiona Apple

Not Skerd

Look, I'm a grown woman. I've traveled to other countries alone, I pay my own bills, I make my own decisions. I'm an adult. So, there's no reason for me to be ashamed of purchasing condoms. I'm not intimidated by the 17-year-old cashier at the grocery store. I'm not even intimidated by the other shoppers that might see my purchase. Case in point:

The last time I purchased condoms there was a college aged guy in front of me in line. When I put my items on the conveyor belt behind his, he glanced back and the condom box immediately caught his eye. He did a very small, but noticeable double-take. He then looked back at me and our eyes met. I gave him a wink and a smile. He blushed.

Yeah, I'm buying condoms, so what? I don't live by your double-standard that if a girl has condoms then she's slutty, but if a guy has condoms - he's prepared and responsible. I'm a mature woman and whatever activities I choose to paricipate in with another responsible adult is none of your business.

Anyway, when I got home that evening I opened the box and shoved the condoms down into my purse, where I promptly forgot about them.

When my friend James dropped me off at the airport on Monday, he asked me about getting there so early and I quipped that I had to have plenty of time to get cavity searched. Well, I wasn't too far off. I was selected at random for the full-on, shoes off, spread your legs, hold-your-arms-out-to-your-sides-feel-up. I also had with me a messenger bag with my purse inside and my carry-on bag with my laptop, books, magazines, and all of my toiletries.

So, after I get the once over, the lady doing the search asked me to sit in a chair next to a table as she rifled through the rest of my things. She pulls my purse out of my messenger bag and then pulls my wallet along with some other papers out of my purse. She placed the stuff she pulled out of my purse on the table. As she laid the items on the table, the condom packets slid onto the table, exposed for all of the world to see. All of my bravado was thrown out the window momentarily as I sat there mortified!

Oh gawd! What the hell is this lady doing? Should I ask her to place them away? But if I point them out to her then I am just admitting that I'm ashamed, and I'm not. What do I care what anybody thinks? I'm a grown woman, I can have condoms if I want! I'm not skerd!

As I was talking myself into not being embaressed, I saw a man walk by and glance at the table and then look at me. So I shot him a smile and winked.

Wink, Wink

Check Out This Article

These Dreams

Last night I had one of the weirdest dreams in recent memory. This is the part I remember. Feel free to psycho-analyze me.

I ran around the corner of this house into a carport. I remember being really scared. In the back of the carport was a door. I opened the door and went through it. Inside was a bathroom with a sink and a toilet. There was no other door. I slammed the door shut and locked it. It was one of those doors with a window at the top, like a backdoor. I braced myself against the door like I knew something was coming after me. There was complete silence and then I remember hearing this loud noise, like all the air being sucked out of a room and then being slammed back into it. BOOM!

Paris Hilton slammed up against the window and she starts bangin on the window. She's slamming her hands against the glass and she's yelling, "We belong together! Come back to me. I love you!"

So I pull out my phone and I yell, "Don't make me call the police! Go away! I hate you!"

But she continues to yell and scream at me. So I pull out my cell phone and call the police.

I forgot the next part, but somehow I end up in the carport with Paris and another woman when a police man walks up and puts the other woman in cuffs. I have no idea who the other woman is, but she is black. I mention this because when the officer handcuffs her, I feel this huge wave of guilt and I started screaming at him, "Not her! You racist asshole! The skank, arrest the skank!"

Then there is some sort of commotion and the policeman ends up hauling away Paris and her sister Nicky. (I have no idea where the sister came from.) Then the black woman and I went inside the house and took anti-gravity pills. But instead of floating around, like I assume you would in space, gravity pulled us toward one of the walls.

That's all I remember.

Tune in tomorrow for an enthralling story about airports, security checks, and condoms.

Where In the World Is Rachel Hurley?

Remember when I said that I wasn't gonna take any freelance gigs until after I went on vacation? Well, let's just say someone made me an offer I couldn't refuse. And, unfortunately, due to an iron-clad confidentiality agreement, I can't tell you what it is. Yet. But it's pretty sweet, believe me.

Anyway, I am about to leave for my flight. I don't know how much time I will have to write over the next two weeks. I won't be able to write about my job and that's pretty much all I will be doing. We'll see. I have turned my comments off in order to slow down the spammers. If you ususally email me through my RatC address, I won't be able to check it for a couple of weeks. I can still be reached at my yahoo address.

Don't forget to welcome me back to Memphis on the 18th at XYZ!

The Edge of Reason

Can I confess something to you without worrying that you will think less of me?

Promise?

Ok, then, here goes: I went to see Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason tonight...

There, see, I feel better. I went alone and now I'm so glad that I did. It was terrible! I don't even know where to begin to tell you why this movie is bad, bad, bad!

Ok, here's another secret. The only reason why I wanted to see it was because of Hugh Grant. He's supposed to be the bad guy in the film, but he was the one I was rooting for the whole time! I guess this explains why I am still single.

Anyway, throughout the film he has charisma, personality, charm and wit - and then the writers went and tried to turn him into a rotten guy at the end so you don't like him anymore - but I still liked him. In true bullshit style, Bridget has to end up with the guy who comes to her rescue and then doesn;t even bother to take credit for it. Oh, isn't he dreamy? Isn't he selfless? Isn't she a ditz? My eyesockets are sore from 2 hours of eyerolling!

I hate, hate, hate how every female lead has to be saved by the guy and find her happy ending when the man she desperately pines after finally decides to come to her rescue!! UGH! Women are always charcterized as being silly and neurotic or the femme fatale, sexy but cold. It corroborates the idea that women want to be in relationships with men just to squash their own insecurities. It's such bullshit! It's the "You Complete Me" theory. Complete yourself, damnit!

Don't get me wrong. I know all of the positive aspects of being in a relationship and I envy those who are in healthy ones. But, I don't need to be taken care of by anyone, and I don't want to take care of anyone else - on a constant basis. Everyone falters and has times in their lives when they need someone to lean on, and the person that you are shagging is ususally good for that. But I have been in relatioships where I was the one planning everything, from dinners to vacations to career goals, and it's just not healthy to be the one that is so dependent or the one who is so depended upon. It wears you down.

Alright enough bitching - people should do whatever they want. I'll never understand what makes people tick and neither will you. For instance, I had a ridiculous single-on-a-Saturday-night outing tonight. I left my house around 6:30 to go get a pedicure. I wore sweats! Sweats! I don't wear sweats. But I did tonight. I wanted the full spinster-in-the-suburbs experience.

After my pedicure I went to a restaurant and had dinner. A salad. Why a salad? Because, for some reason I thought that looked better to my fellow diners. As I was dining alone, I was scared what people might think of someone who not only had dinner alone on a Saturday night, but one that was hossiin' down a steak.

Anyway, I dined out in Cordova, home of holiday sweatshirts and people who are afraid to turn right on red. It was kind of interesting being alone because I got to take in all the people around me. All I kept thinking was that I didn't want to be like any of the people that I saw. Everyone seemed to have just given up and given in. Everyone was in baggy jeans and sweaters, they had bad haircuts and their glasses were too big for their faces. They all looked like mall people. Either you understand what I mean or you don't.

I sat and wondered why this bothered me so much. Well, I thought, we tend to dislike what we fear. So, it was an easy conclusion to think that I didn't like these people because I feared becoming one of them. Then I pondered what would be so wrong with that? Why did I fear it so much? Why do the suburbs make me flinch so? Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. S-E-X!

Let me explain. After dinner, I went to Target. I never go to Target, I'm just not much of a shopper. I realize that retail therapy is the same as drug addiction, eating disorders, and any other dysfunctional habit: when one feels incontent with one's life but is either unwilling or unable to explore the reason's behind one's emotional disconnect- they try to fill up the hole they feel inside with momentary charges of satisfaction. Unfortunately, as I mentioned, these things only ease a peron's pain momentarily and do nothing to solve their real problems, but instead bury these problems, only to have them resurface and the dysfunctional cycle continue. Wow, that was a tangent -

Anyway, so I'm at Target and it's Saturday night - 8PM. It's packed! Seriously, the parking lot is full, and the store is filled with mostly couples. Couples that are my age. The guys look bored and the girls look like they're martyrs. Nothing to do on Saturday night? Heard all of each other's stories? Spent so much time together you feel like brother and sister? Then let's go shopping for crap we don't need!

Now here's the question: These people, my age, young and vibrant, are they going home tonight to have hot passionate sex? Something tells me no.

So I have this theory about frightened suburban, tv watching, mall strolling, SUV driving, baggy jeans and holiday sweatshirt wearing folks. They're not getting any hot sex. That's what all of these other things are signifying, because when you're getting hot sex - none of these other things seem very significant.

No, I'm not drunk.

Early Holiday Present

Well, it looks like I will be coming out of hiatus sooner than expected (you knew I wouldn't last!) But don't get too excited, I won't be going out until the 17th. My oldest friend, Greg, will be flying in from Tokyo to visit Memphis for two weeks on the 16th. I can't wait to see him. We've known each other since I was 14, although we weren't close friends until after high school. We worked at a restaurant for a few years during college together before he took off to see the world. As mentioned, he is living in Tokyo teaching English, but he's also lived in China and Prague. I have postcards from him from all over the world. We only get to see each other about once a year.

He was originally the person who invited me to Amsterdam, but he had a ticket issue and bailed. He thought he could just exchange a ticket that he didn't use - but it seems things were not that simple. Anyway, while he is in town I will have no choice but to take him out and show him a good time. We don't get that much time together so we have to make the most of it. When he was here last year he was pretty stressed out with girlfriend issues and visa issues. All that is worked out this year - so, we should be able to go out and kick it old school style.

Anyway, I stayed up late tonight so that I could IM with him a little bit. He's on a totally different time schedule, obvs. I was just gonna watch movies until 3AM came, but I got this weird need to be productive and so I went over to Scenestars and fixed the links on all of my archived songs from June and July. Since we moved servers in August, each post had to be re-uploaded and individually re-coded, so it took a little bit of time (try 8 hours!). Anyway, consider it an early holiday present, and I'll consider Greg's arrival mine. If you read SS, go check out the archives and the newly available songs.

The Hives Show

I stole this pic from JAG. I just thought it was funny because I could tell exactly where I was standing: Between the two tallest dudes on the second row. Fun show.

Going Postal

Have you ever had that moment of lucidity when you realize why someone walks into a particular place and just kills everyone? I'm not saying it's right, and I am sure to be put on the crazy list for even mentioning it, but today I recognized that clearness of thought when you come to the conclsusion that in order for the universe to be at peace, everyone must die.

I had to go to court today for my traffic accident last month. If you didn't already know, November 1st - location scouting in Collierville - rain hard - me skid - hit another car - get ticket. I was cited for failure to comply with a stop sign and no proof of insurance. Now, I did have insurance, and I did have my insurance card, however, it was expired and I had negelcted to replace the old card with the new. I was told by the officer to bring my correct insurance card to court and that charge would be dismissed. Cool deal. Whatever.

Traffic court in Collierville is not like traffic court in Memphis. People take traffic violations out there seriously. And I don't necessarily mean the police. The people there brought in witnesses, pictures, and other evidence to contest their guilt. Old men pleaded for mercy on the court as they had perfect driving records and were frightened of points on their driver's license, like they should be frightened of alzheimer's. Women cried and stammered, and people were generally frightened of the man sitting in the robe. The weird thing was, he was no Judge Judy. He was kind of grandfatherly and pretty nice.

Ok, here's the deal. I get to court right at 2PM, as I walk in the door there's a police officer giving everyone a speech, like we're in third grade or something, about turning off cell phones, how many people were to sit on a bench, pulling your pants up, not talking, how to stand before the judge - blah, blah, blah. Then he herded us into the courtroom. I took a seat up front and could tell right away that this wasn't gonna go fast. People in Collierville do not like to get tickets, but to their credit, I found that if you argued long enough, you could wear down the prosecutor and the judge and he would dismiss you're ticket and just give you a high court cost.

Anyway, I realized about 20 minutes into this snoozefest that all the people being called to the front had already pled guilty or not guilty. How did the court already know their plea? I leaned over to the women next to me and asked. It turned out, you're supposed to go to the clerk before you enter the court room and tell them your plea. The order which this is done is the order in which they call you to the front. Holy Crapola! This could mean only one thing. I had now sealed my fate in being dead last. I got up and went outside to go to the clerk.

Luckily for me, I was right behind the guy who had a perfect driving record and was pulled over for doing 15 over in a school zone. He had been found guilty, but he was now arguing his case with the clerk. This went on for 20 minutes. I am not kidding. He was worried about getting three points on his license and his insurance rate going up. I wanted to hand him $20 bucks and tell him to step away from the counter before I stabbed him in the head.

And I am not a violent person.

So, I put in my pleas and go back to the courtroom, which, of course, now has no seats available, so I have to stand against the wall in the back. About 10 minutes later, I was directed to sit down next to a woman who weighed about 400 pounds. Now, I'm no weightest, but there was clearly not enough room for me to sit down. But I didn't want to embaress the poor lady in front of the entire court by turning around and arguing the point with the court officer who was clearly getting his rocks off by being in charge and telling people what to do. So, I practically sit down on this woman's lap and this is where I sat for the next hour and a half.

Ok, so as I said, I am dead last to be called. I walk up to the front and the prosecutor asks for my insurance card. I reach into my bag and pull it out and hand it to him. It's my latest insurance card, that went into effect December 1st. Well, you guessed it. It didn't prove that I had insurance at the time of the accident. A discussion ensued, I ask if I could have my insurance company fax over something that proved this, so that I don't have to have my court date reset. This request was granted. So, I went to the lobby, made a 2 minute phone call and returned to find that court had been adjourned until the 4PM session. GRRRRRRR!

So, I sit and wait. Whatever. It's my fault, fine.

4PM comes and goes. The court room filled up with 16 year olds. Finally, around 4:30, court comes back to order. The judge walked in and takes a look at all the kids. I nearly fell into the aisle straining to try to make eye contact with him. PLEASE! Don't forget about me! I get to go first right? Right? Please?

"Alright, can we have all the minors with suspended licenses please approach the front with their parents?"

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

So, now I get to sit through the lecture. When they can drive, when they can't drive, I get to listen to parents plead their cases about letting little Bobby run errands for them or take their kid sister to school, or go to trakc practice, or pick up the dry cleaning. Damn, these aren't kids, they're errand boys. I started staring way too long and hard at the pistol in the court officer's gun holder. Finally, at least an hour later, all the kids are dismissed. I am once again called to the front.

"Do you have anything to say about your citation?" The judge asks.

"Well, sir, I don't know if you recall, but the day before election day, which was the day of the traffic accident, it was pouring down rain. I had never driven down this particular road, and the stop sign was slightly obscured and visibilty was low. I didn't see it until the last moment and when I hit my brakes, I skidded into the intersection. There was really nothing that I could do."

"Proof of Insurance failure: Dismissed. Citation: 50 dollar fine, 90 dollar court cost, 13.75 state fee. Pay at the window."

"But do I get credit for time served?" No laughter.

Ok, fine. I'd sat in that court room for three and a half hours. I was just glad to be getting out. Who cares, I'll pay $1000 dollars to never have to set foot in Collierville again! So, I walk out of the court room and to the clerk's counter to pay up. Guess who's there? Those eleventy thousand kids with suspended licenses!

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

I told myself to stay calm. I didn't want to have to come back in order to pay the fine. Besides, it might be kind of fun to watch these kids have to interact with their pissed-off parents. And it was.

At least 30 minutes later, I finally made it to the counter. I handed the clerk my slip with my fees and she rang me up. I pull out my debit card and try to hand it to her.

"I'm sorry, we're not set up to take that."

"You're kidding? How can I pay? Cash?"

"We only take checks."

"You only take checks? I don't even have a checkbook? I can't believe you don't take checkcards! Who doesn't take checkcards?"

"We don't."

Clarity, people, clarity.

Blogger Bash Flodulator

Yes, I skipped the Memphis blogger bash. I hope there are no hard feelings. Abby and Eric have already done some posting about it. It would have been fun to get together with everyone, but I said I wasn't going out and I plan to stick with it. I've had a few friends call and incredulously ask me if I am really serious, and the truth is, I am. One outing leads to the next and I need to focus on something other than socializing for a little bit.

If you haven't heard already, Blog was named one of the U.S. Dictionary's Words of the Year. There has even been some talk of naming bloggers as the Time magazine People of the Year because of their effect on this year's election and political fallout. In my case, this blog is constantly evolving, just like me. I have people that come here for a while, get caught up in whats going on and then get bored and move on. But I know some of you have been around for a long time, I see your IP address even if you post anonomously. I've gotten mostly cool responses, although I do get a stalker here and there. Sometimes I write things and people tell me it's funny, sometimes their comments are not so nice. Hey, everyone's just looking for someone to listen to them, right?

The two weird things about blogging are:

1. Meeting people out in the real world who know you only from reading what you've written on the internet and they think that they know you. I think that we're all a little more complex than that. I know I am.

2. At least for me, once I start reading someone's blog, even if it's poorly written and boring as hell (just like this one), once you start it's sometimes hard to stop. I don't read people's blogs everyday, I'm not that big of a personal blog reader (yes, because I am a narcissist), but I check in with everyone at least once a month to see what's happening.

Anyway, having a blog has influenced my life in an incredible amount of ways. Mostly all positive. I've met so many people, I've had an opportunity to voice an opinion in a vast area of topics, many I wouldn't have even known about if I didn't read blogs - god knows I hate reading the paper - and I've had an influence on a small amount of people who have felt compelled to write to me and express some sort of connection. If you haven't jumped on the bandwagon yet, I highly suggest you start hopping.

Boring Is As Boring Does

My post this morning was a little misleading. I have never been a fan of people who can't find something to do with themselves, and that wasn't how I meant to come off. I have always been a do-er, and finding stuff to do has never been anything that I've worried about. And I've done just about everything there is to do in this city, just this summer I've been to the National Civil Rights Museum, The Dixon, the Botanic Gardens, I've been to film night at the Brooks, I've had lunches at McEwens and dinners at Ciello's, I've walked main street, I've been to all the clubs, every decent concert, I've been to The Arcade, I've been to Sun Studio, I've been to Stax, I've gorged at Texas De Brazil, I've had cocktails at The Peabody, The Beauty Shop, Melange, Tsunami, Bosco's, Slim's, Swig's, you name the bar, I know the bartender. I've eaten every array of food this town has to offer, I've been to the theater, I've heard the symphony, I've done Punk Rock Pilates, I've done my fair share of yoga and walked in almost every park at least once, I've been to the theme parties, I've thrown parties, I've danced in costume, I've been on dates, I've sat in eleventy thousand people's living rooms, I've played pool, I've driven every street while location scouting, I've done and seen everything there is to in Memphis.

But now, it feels like I need something different. I just don't know what that is yet. If it weren't for this web page, it wouldn't even be anything that anyone would probably notice. Everyone drops out of the scene for a little while every now and then. I have only chosen to make it a declaration so that I will stick to it. I just feel like if I don't make a conscience effort to get off the wheel, the cycle will not change.

I am also avoiding people because I am just tired of the sound of my own voice. Does anyone else ever feel that way? Like tired of telling the same stories, tired of expressing the same sentiments, tired of having your friends look at you with that same expression on their face like here we go again. I'm tired of getting involved with the wrong guys and not even being able to tell my friends about it cause I have already heard their speeches and know what they'll say. The one thing I know for sure is that you can not change anyone else's behavior, so I am trying to change my own. No biggie.

I talked to a friend of mine today about doing some tutoring. I'll find out tomorrow more of the details. I don't know if I'm much of a role model, but I can help someone with their abc's. I also did some yoga today and I think I pulled my ass muscle.

Insomniac

It's 5 AM and I am wide awake. I think I went to bed at 10 last night. Since I am currently taking a break from people, places and things, I don't know what to do with myself. I refuse to get sucked into the vapid black hole of television and I already spend enough time on the internet. And don't tell me to read a book, cause I spent three hours yesterday reading Wittgenstein, and believe me, you have no idea.

I payed off every bill I have yesterday. I am completely debt free. I even paid my car insurance for the next year. My bank called me to ask what the hell was going on and if my debit card had been stolen. I've always been one of those people that had the money to pay my bills, but just hated the act of doing it and usually put it off until the very last minute, racking up thousands of dollars of unnecessary late fees over the years.

So here I sit with no intention, no motivation and nothing to do. I have absolutely no plans until December 28th when I go on vacation. Even if a freelance gig came up, unless it was for only two weeks, I wouldn't be able to take it. Anyone need me to come to their office and file or answer the phone? I tell funny stories and don't mind making coffee runs. Does anyone have any Ambien?

Sobriety sucks.