Style is your best revenge.......

I firmly believe that a girl should never leave the house in sweats.  We must always be prepared to meet a dashing stranger or run into an old enemy.
Or that cute boy from high school.
You know the one.
The one who still thinks it's 1976.....

Yeah, this guy....

Best story from the Pub Crawl in our little hometown......

The bouncer at one of the little neighborhood bars stops my sister as we were walking in the door.....
"Hey, how ya doing?" says the scruffy gray haired man as he puts her in a bear hug. 
"Do I know you?" she asks, trying to break from his grip
"Rob!  Rob Wilson!  We went to high school together!" he says, trying to kiss her
My sister looks rather confused
She looks at me......."my God! I went to high school with someone this old!"

You can take the girl out of her little hometown....

but you can't take the little hometown out of the girl!

Today, I am celebrating my roots.......I'm visiting the faces and the places of my young life....

I'm going to do a little grown up playing (aka winey lunch and shopping) with my bestest neighborhood playmate......

Then, I'm going to roam the streets of my little childhood hometown....aka....I'm doing The Pub Tour to save our beloved hometown swimming pool with bunches of other hometown folks.....including my husband, my sister, a few cousins, some good friends and all the rest.....

After it's all said and done, I'm gonna ride the trolley back to my grown-up girl hometown.....

But, before any of that happens.....I've got a little date with the guy who made that little hometown our home....my father......

My dad on his 91st birthday!!!

I hope your Saturday is  also filled with lovely faces and wonderful places!

Ready for Friday?

Friday is READY FOR YOU!

Take it on with attitude!

Many years ago, in the midst of one of my "accepting my size" modes, I made a pact with myself that I would figure out a way to feel big and beautiful.  So, I set about on a fashion and make up journey to make that happen.  Many shopping trips later, I found myself with a pile of clothes that were not the real me and a bucket full of make up that I would probably  never wear. 
You see, I looked around at the women who I considered big and beautiful and tried very hard to mimic their style and image.  It bugged the heck out of me that even when I did a decent job of finding the clothes and the make up, I still looked in the mirror and didn't like what I saw.  I just saw an overweight woman with too much make up and clothes that could not mask the huge belly, the ruffely hips, the chunky arms, the round, plum face. 
Big and beautiful was just not me.  
How did those big and beautiful women look so beautiful even though they were big? 
Stumped and utterly frustrated,  I decided that I wasn't meant to be big.
With that knowledge in hand, I set out to find another diet....

Fast forward to now.....

It's  shocking to me that in my quest to feel big and beautiful, I didn't stop for one moment to realize that fashion and make up could make me look big and beautiful but never make me  feel big and beautiful. 
Even though I adore fashion and make up and shoes and I use those things to help me feel good about myself and I believe in the power of looking good---I could not use those things to mask the feelings down deep in my soul.  I did not like me as a big girl.  That was the bottom line. 
Call it vain or crazy or downright insane but being big was just not my cup of tea. 
Not that I wanted to be a Size 0 but I certainly wanted to not be big. 
There are moments when I feel I should apologize for that or at least explain to others that big was not for me and that I don't judge others on their size.  I mean, just because I don't like me as a big girl, I do not stand in judgement of all the big and beautiful women out there.  Because, if truth be told, I am actually envious of them in many ways.  They figured it out.  I failed. 
I am not big and beautiful.  Not to me. 

Why am I even bringing this up now?
Of course, there's a story....
The other night, a few friends and I went out for drinks and dinner.  Naturally, the conversation turned to diets and bodies and all that fun stuff.  One of my dear, sweet friends  mentioned  "no matter how big Judi got, she always looked so pulled together."   It was not a shock to hear her say this because she says it quite frequently during these types of conversation.  And, although I always appreciate the sentiment and I am happy to know that the outside world thought I was so pulled together in my big girl days, I never, ever felt that way.  I mean, I knew that I spent a ton of time and money on make up and clothes and shoes.  But, no matter when I left the house and no matter what I was wearing---I never felt that way.  EVER. 
So, I piped up...."Well, I never felt that way." 
Of course, the entire table acted as though they were shocked.  They are sweet friends. 
"No, I never felt happy or satisfied with how I looked, no matter what I was wearing.  And, I admit, I had some pretty nice big girl clothes!"  I shared with them. 
"My God Judi!  I always talked about how you looked so perfect and fashionable all the time no matter how much you weighed!"  another friend chimed in.
"Yeah, me too!" another friend agreed.
"Well then, I am pretty good at fooling people.  Because, honestly, I never felt that way."  I divulged.
"So, how do  you feel now?" someone asked
"Well, how do I look?"  I asked.
"Pulled together.  Perfectly fashionable!"  one friend answered.
I laughed....." the same then?"
"No matter how much you weigh...." two friends said in unison.

Thank God for girlfriends!  

(and wine)

 

LIPSTICK!!

...that explains everything!

This morning as I was sitting in traffic flipping through the radio stations, I came upon an interesting tidbit...
Did you know that the average woman eats over 6 pounds of lipstick in their lifetime?
Um, either did I! 
And, I ain't no average woman.
Not when it comes to things that color and shine up my lips!
Nosiree!
Given my love, love, love of lipstick and lipgloss and lipstain..... I am pretty sure that at least 60 of the 100 extra pounds I was carrying around were due to lipstick.  
Whew!
Finally, I can stop blaming my obese gene, my thyroid, pasta, nachos, chips, wine, bread, my grandmothers, my father, my mother, the good cooks in my life, Big Macs, french fries, coconut cream pie, vacations at the beach, Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, Fourth of July, Flag Day, April Fool's Day, my birthday, friends' birthdays, family birthdays, pregnancy weight, menopause, my blue eyes, late night munching, happy hour, happiness, sadness, stress, misery, going to the movies, going to the mall, going out to dinner, breathing.......

MUAH!

NEVER SURRENDER!

I believe in HOPE.
HOPE is the one thing that has always given me HOPE!



Many, many years ago, in the depths of the deepest despair of my young life.....a family friend bent down to me---as I cried on my aunt's couch---she whispered into my ear---  

At the time, I didn't realize it was an Italian Proverb.
Now that I do, I'm not surprised.
Italians brought us pasta and meatballs too.
And, wine.
Proving they know a thing or two about life.  

While there's life, there's hope.....

Those words have never left my side. 
They have carried me through every aspect of life--from the big things to the little things.
Over the years, as I've experienced the ups and downs and highs and the lows and the laughter and the tears,  that one phrase has grown in meaning. 
I have shared the sentiment with friends and family and have hopefully given my children the gift of HOPE. 

Among all the wonderful things I credit my Lapband with, I think the most important thing that it has given me is HOPE.
Real HOPE in something that would work for me.    
As my weight spiraled out of control  for all those years, I always believed that someday, someway, I would not be a fat woman forever.
So, I took every chance I could---placing my HOPE in diets and doctors and pills and gyms and every weight loss program and plan on the planet.
I never gave up HOPE.  
Sure, there were moments when I felt defeated and worn out and just plain exasperated from the search for thinness.  But, just when I found myself doing the dance of defeat, my HOPE never let me completely fall into the grips of believing that I would always be fat.  
HOPE picked me up and shook me off and pushed me back out there!
Sure, sometimes I picked some real dud diets that didn't serve me well.
Other times, I just fell flat on my fat face.
Sometimes I felt my HOPE was ill placed.
And, yes, there were many many times that I had to admit that HOPE wasn't going to save me from my bulging belly.
But, when this commercial came on TV, my HOPE soared. 

Disclaimer: this is not the commercial I saw...click on link above

The HOPE that commerical gave me carried me through the 8 months of getting ready and the 4 years and 8 months since then.
And, it's proven me to be right.....I will not be a fat woman forever.  

Now, as I toil with a few extra pounds, I am being challenged to muster up all that HOPE again.
As I fight with a few zippers on a few pair of Spring pants, I'm being reminded that I must place my HOPE and all that goes with it into my Lap band.  
I have been given these gifts. 
I cannot surrender to the nightly raids on those adorable little chocolate Easter eggs.
I cannot surrender to the next pants size.
I cannot surrender to these pounds.

I  cannot surrender my HOPE!



 

April snow brings......

white knuckles!!!!!!
  (and it has nothing to do with my spray tan!)

Over the past month or so, my son has been traveling quite a bit presenting papers and doing what  almost-Phd's do.
He's bounced in and out to town for quick layovers, to catch his breath, pick up some incidentals and maybe do some laundry.
Late last week, fresh from a trip to Chicago--where he got to spend a wonderful day site seeing and exploring famous breweries and restaurants with his cousin Alexa who had just happened to be in Chicago on a job hunting trip-- he landed in Pittsburgh for an alumni event at this undergrad University that was happening this  past weekend.
When his fun weekend with old buddies wrapped up, he stopped home on Sunday night to have a good meal and to rest up for what lies ahead in his long and tenuous academic journey.
He was planning to leave early this morning so that he could arrive in PhDland in time for some meetings that he had later today.
We were looking forward to having him home---even it was just for a snippet of time.  

He got to watch the Penguins lose a heartbreaking game with his father (at least they were together!) while I headed over to the Country Club for a family wedding shower.   
Prior to his arrival, I cooked up a storm and Carmen and I cleared our Sunday evening schedules to just hang out with him.  The plan was to eat, chat and watch some TV together.  
 What we hadn't planned on doing was keeping a close eye on the weather.....
A winter storm advisory was issued.......yes, you heard me right.....a WINTER STORM ADVISORY....
Knowing that much of his trip back to PhDland included mountains that were directly in the snowbelt, an April storm that was predicting lots of snow and rain and ice didn't sound too safe.
I was determined not to be a nervous and out of control mother.
I mean....really.....an April snowstorm?
But, I couldn't help but worry about the impending doom.
So, I checked the forecast every few moments--going back and forth between channels....looking for different information.
Long after both Carmen and Vince had went  to bed, I kept an eye on the TV, nodding off once in awhile. 
Every hour or so, I'd bounce up to check outside to see if the storm had arrived.....
By 5:30 am, there was not a snow flake in sight.
I was completely exhausted and not ready to take on a Monday.  

Snow did not arrive in Judiland this morning.
But, the mountains that stood between our house and where my son was going were covered.
And, the snow was relentless.
My son's path to PhDland was all the talk of the TV stations.
My morning plans were solidified.
I would be worrying and praying and hoping and worrying and praying and hoping some more.
The hours felt like centuries.
Until I got the call......"Mom, I'm safe."

Spray tanned and taking on Sunday.......

Considering we are under a winter storm watch here in Judiland, I am quite sure my spray tan will be figured out for what it is.
But, it feels good to have some color.
Funny thing, it makes me feel thinner.
I have no idea why but it does.
So, that's a good thing.
I'll take it.  

Here I am heading out the door.....me and my spray tan....

Have a great Sunday!

Go Penguins!

Maintaining fabulous is not for sissies!

I am not too much of a "rule" person.  Like everyone else, I recognize that rules are a necessity of life.  But, I've never been one to set up all kinds of rules for  myself or my family.  I just expect everyone will do the right thing.
 Most times things work out okay.  
But, there's one rule that I follow to the letter---never leave the house looking like shit.
I mean, I don't have to be drop dead gorgeous but hey....I should at least try to be drop dead gorgeous.  
What this means is that I will not leave my house without full make up, fashionably dressed, fully accessorized, wearing rockin' shoes and with my hair looking as good as I can get it to look.
Trust me, adhering to this rule is much, much harder than it sounds.
There's lots of maintenance that goes along with the art of not looking like shit.
It's not just the mere act of getting dressed and putting on make up and shoes and jewelry.
Nosiree.  
 There's lotions and potions to apply, there's tweezing to be done and shaving that needs to happen, there's all kinds of gels and goop to rub in, there's exfoliating here and there and everywhere......
Not only that, there's appointments that need to be made and kept and lots of experts to talk to (like the ladies at the Estee Lauder counter) and magazines and other resources to consult....
And, just when I thought I couldn't wedge another body maintenance thing into my life, I fall in love with getting a spray tan. 
A spray tan.
You heard me right.
Now, I'm not extremely fond of the act of  getting the spray tan.
Standing naked in a tubular booth in weird positions while a sprayer goes up and down your body isn't exactly my idea of a good time.
But, the end result is perfection.
My skin seems smoother, I have a lovely scent and  I'm glowing.
And, most importantly-- I have a perfect tan that only took minutes to get!
I feel like a movie star.
And, I walk around feeling that way.
Hey look at me....I just got back from Malibu.   

So, I'm sitting here sipping my tea wondering how I am going to fit a spray tan session into an already  jam-packed day.   It's causing me quite a bit of stress.  And, you know what stress does to a person?  It causes fine lines and wrinkles.  And, you know what that means?
Yep, I'm going to need a facial. 

Attack of the AARP!

 They are mail bombing my neighborhood!!!
I'm running as fast I can!!!!!

We have a little issue with the mail in our neighborhood.
We haven't had a permanent mail carrier for several years.
My neighbors and I have no idea what not having a permanent mail carrier has to do with the fact that we are always getting each others' mail, our mail comes damaged a lot of the times and we even get mail belonging to folks many streets away. Other times, I get my mail several weeks (or even months!) after it was mailed to me.   Each time someone calls to complain, we are given the same excuse---you do not have a permanent mail carrier.  We've given up.
The other day when I returned home, I found a big white US Mail box sitting on my porch--filled with mail.
Now, I know I get lots of magazines and catalogs but did one day's worth of mail warrant that it be delivered in a box?  
So, I hoisted the box up, brought it into the house and sat down to go through what appeared to be three weeks worth of mail!
As you can probably guess--only a fraction of the mail was mine.  The rest belonged to assorted neighbors on my street and others on surrounding streets.  As I was sorting the mail into piles of like addresses and names, I noticed how many pieces of mail in the box were from the AARP.  By the time I was done, I counted a total of 66 pieces of mail from them---a few of the pieces belonging to me.  One or two people were sent the AARP magazine---which instantly caught my attention because one of my all time favorite women--Diane Keaton--was on the cover.  
But, most of us got the same type of envelopes--inviting us to become a member.
Was it a conspiracy?


I decided to deliver the mail to my close-by neighbors and let the mail carrier do the rest.
On one of my deliveries, the homeowner happened to see me and came out to chat.  Naturally, we commiserated on the fate of our mail and brainstormed on ideas on how to deal with it--she seemed quite a bit more exasperated about the situation than I and  she was very animated in the way she talked about it.   As we were chatting, she was leafing through her mail...all of a sudden, she stopped mid sentence.  It was one of those abrupt stops in voice that only happens when you are completely and utterly stunned.  Her face contorted a bit and she wiped her brow with the palm of her hand.
She had found the AARP mailer.       
After she regained her composure, she looked up at me--"At what age does the AARP ask us to join them?" she asked.

"I think I started getting the invitations around my 50th birthday.  I guess they figure by the time we retire, we will succumb to the age thing and just join them!  I hear they have good discounts."  I quipped.
She seemed quite disturbed---no longer by the mail mishap but by the AARP mailer.
"I just don't get it, 50 years old and we are AARP material?"  she stuttered--as if she were in disbelief.
"Well, if it would make you feel any better, I will tell you that in all the mail left at my house there were a total of 66 pieces of mail from them!"  I told her.
"No, that makes me feel worse! Camelot for baby boomers is over!  Baby boomers are now America's senior citizens!  There's millions of us!"  she relented, her eyes scanning the neighborhood.
"Yes, that's probably the case!"  I agreed.
"Look around, Judi, there's more of us than there are of THEM!" she said, her finger pointing up and down the street in a random motion.  "We have two young couples on our street. They are getting mail from Victoria's Secret and Abercrombie and Fitch and the rest of us are being bombed by the AARP!" 
I looked up and down the street.  She was right.  I happened to live right next door to one of the young couples---lucky me, I get to live next to the young blonde with the perfect body who sun bathes in a bikini on her bedroom balcony---directly in eye shot of  anyone sitting at my dining room table.  
"Well, I get mail from Victoria's Secret," I said a little sheepishly.
"Victoria is not bombing us!  The AARP is!"  she reminded me.  



I don't know about her but I'm being bombed by Victoria's Secret and the AARP.
I guess that means that I might be over 50 but I still got it.... 


Gee, I wonder if Victoria Secret gives an AARP discount? That might give me a reason to join!

 

Postscripts from a marriage......

That's lasted 30 years.
Please don't ask me how we've managed to get here because I'm not sure if I would be able to tell you.
What I do know is that we've raised two absolutely amazing children, we have made it through some wonderful times and some downright not-so-wonderful times, we've accumulated a lot of stuff in our basement and our garage, we have traveled many, many miles, we've had lots of interesting hairdos, we've said I LOVE YOU millions and millions of times and we've said I'M SORRY a million million million more times, we've slammed our share of doors, we've hugged and kissed and stomped our feet, we've been fat, we've been skinny, we've been everywhere in between, we fulfilled some dreams and we have shattered some others and we got up each day with the hope that it would be a good one. 
When it comes down it it......mostly we've found a way to share the ups and downs of this life that we chose 30 years ago.   

For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.......and you know the rest.  

Happy Anniversary to us.  

God laughs at those who make plans!

And, HE had a rip-roaring time with ours!
Thankfully, we've had 30 years of practice with the comedy that is our life!  

This coming Tuesday is our 30th Anniversary.  So, knowing that Carmen was doing a death-defying work schedule for a month or so, we decided to play it safe and not plan anything too big.  Originally, we had talked about a trip to Napa or an exotic island or maybe even a cruise.  But, with things the way they were, we opted to lay low and just put our plans on the back burner for a while....you know....let them simmer until the time was right.   However, as we got closer, we decided we would figure out a way to celebrate a little closer to home--fitting everything in between Carmen's work schedule and my responsibilities. 
With a little wiggling and tweaking, we managed to eek out a weekend that worked well on all fronts. 
That was until things got a little twisted up with Carmen's work schedule.
But, we figured we'd just work around it.
So, at the last minute, we readjusted and rescheduled a few things.
Then, Carmen came down with a rip-roaring bout of some kind of flu bug.
Even that didn't deter us.....we made the best of it. 
While he drugged up and slept it off--I went shopping at some upscale consignment shops unearthing amazing deals.  Love. Love. Love.
The drugs and the sleep managed to make him feel a little more human but our plans took another turn.....
His work intervened...as it always does.......this time throwing our dinner plans off.
So, I did what any woman would do when a night out that she was so looking forward to goes awry--I got a spray tan, a manicure and did a little more shopping.
By then, his flu bug was raging.
I had no intention of letting work and sickness rob me of a weekend that I had been soooo looking forward to.
So, as he dealt with his illness and his cell phone and his computer,  I ventured out to a gourmet market to pick up a few ingredients, made a stop at a specialty cheese shop for some great cheeses and then stopped off at the wine store to stock up.
Then, I  headed home to my very own kitchen to  whip up an anniversary dinner to end all anniversary dinners.
Sometimes I am happiest in my own kitchen. 
I texted my husband of almost 30 years and told him to come home and be prepared to make me a Henricks Martini. 
In his sickly state, the poor man could not argue. 
He drove the roads back to his own home and made me that martini.  Yummy!
No, it wasn't the amazing little place we figured we would be hanging out.
 But, it was probably where he needed to be.
 I got my martini and we had a great meal with some spectacular wine.....then he passed out. 
I drank wine and watched the mediocre movie Horrible Bosses...as my very sick and very tired husband of almost 30 years snored away in his recliner.  
All of that led me to a Sunday that couldn't have even been planned.......
Flowers. Massages.  Pedicure.  A trip to a jewelry store.  And, a lakeside lunch at a lovely little place near our house.

Life doesn't always turn out the way we think it will.....just like our marriage.
But, I can proudly say that we've been blessed with the ability to make the best of it.
It takes awhile to figure that out.
We've had 30 years experience doing just that.....

I'm pulling down the shade......

Time for a little reconnecting and recharging!

Stories from the Road will resume on Monday. 

Carry on.......

Follow your FOODIE HEART!!!

 I JUST LOVE A GOOD FOODIE CALL!!!

any food hook-up is a good hook-up

My name is Judi and I am a FOODIE!
Yes, it rhymes (Judi-Foodie).....cute, eh?
While I am fessing up here, I might as well tell you that I have no intention of ever changing my food love.
I suppose I never did.  I just said I would.  
With diets.
I said that I would give up fats.
Yeah, I lied.
I said that I would give up carbs.
Yeah I lied.
I said that I would just eat what was on the list.
Yeah, I lied.
I said that I would just eat what was in the package.
Yeah I lied.
I said that I would give up everything white.
Yeah, I lied.
I said that I would only drink those shakes.
Yeah, I lied.
I said that I would never eat sugar again.
Yeah, I lied.

Well, you get the picture......

Perhaps all that lying I did for all those years was my problem with dieting all along.....I just never, ever felt that I wanted to live forever without eating the  food that I love.  Even though I said I could.
The truth of the matter is---I could not imagine a life without olive oil or a super sharp cheese or meatballs or chocolate or tacos or nacho chips or butter or coconut cream pie. 
There was a criminality--a super duper injustice--to denying myself the pleasure that my favorite food brings me. 
I'm not crazy about injustice.  Especially when it comes to something I love and derive pleasure from. 
Life is too short to live barren of  good taste and  fulfilling fulfillment.

That's why my  Lapband and I are a perfect couple.   
It lets me follow my FOODIE HEART!!!  

And, so that was Easter.......

Toni and I getting ready to leave the house for my family's annual Easter Eve celebration. 

Easter Day road trip--maybe I should eat some carrots!

Easter Day road trip--a stop along the way

Carmen and I--celebrating Easter 2012 in Altoona PA!

 A few foodie pix......

Easter Eve veggies--roasted asparagus and zucchini with balsamic reduction, burrata and asiago. AMAZING!

Easter Eve Dessert Buffet---My sister's Death by Chocolate

Easter Eve Dessert Buffet---Carmen and my favorite pie of all time--Signature Desserts Coconut Cream Pie!

Another holiday come and gone.
The memories and the leftovers remain.

God grant me the serenity
To make good food choices;
The courage to turn away from the Easter goodies that call my name;
And the wisdom to either throw them or give them away. .

Easter blessings......

from our home to yours......

May the spirit of hope that Easter brings,
Help you find contentment in little things,
And restore your faith in the Lord above,
Who gave His life for the ones He loves.

Step away from the peanut butter eggs.  

Holy Jelly Beans!

It's Easter !

I am going to let you in on a little secret---I am not having Easter at my house.
Nope.  I'm not.
I've been busy cooking lots of yummy things but no one is coming to my house. 
Tonight, we will be at my sister's for our annual Easter Eve celebration.
Tomorrow, we are driving a few hours to meet our son half way from PhDLand and we are all going to a restaurant.
Then, we are turning around and driving our daughter back to CollegeLand. 
Then, on Monday morning, Carmen is heading into a 30-day project which will keep him completely and utterly immersed in whatever engineers like him do when they work 24/7 on projects like this (as you can tell, I'm not really sure what my husband does...I just know he works alot!).
In other words--no one will be here to eat for Easter or to eat the Easter leftovers!

So, why do I have a kitchen full of Easter food and a table full of Easter goodies?
 Because that's the way I roll......

Blame it all on my hair!

I'm having a bad hair week.
A very bad hair week.

I'm tired!  Blame it on my hair.
I'm having fashion issues.  Blame it on my hair.
I can't sleep.  Blame it on my hair.
My back hurts.  Blame it on my hair.
I look pale.  Blame it on my hair.
There's dishes piled in the sink.  Blame it on my hair.
I bought a bathing suit.  I hate it.  Blame it on my hair.
I want to eat the ears off of the chocolate bunny in the middle of my  dining room table.  The one I bought only as a decoration.  Blame it on my hair. 
I am craving coconut cream chocolate Easter eggs.  Blame it on my hair. 
I am eating a coconut cream chocolate Easter egg right now.  Blame it on my hair.  
Someone hide the bunny!!!

Is it the Spring Chicken Flu?

This morning, I have a major case of blogblock.  
My brain is not quite functioning yet.  
I'm feeling a bit fogy, a tad woozy and just a wee bit outtawhack. 
Instead of  bitching about my state of disrepair, I figured I'd just ask for you to indulge me for a few moments.......
I'm sharing pictures from a lovely day we spent with some really sweet Spring Chickens..... Toni and her Sorority sisters at their Parents' luncheon this past weekend.   
We went with two other sets of parents--all good friends of ours who we met many years ago when our girls danced at the same studio.  They are now at the same college, in the same sorority.  
It couldn't have been a nicer way to spend a sunny Saturday!!!  

It's always something.......

Ain't that the truth?

No wonder stress and living on the edge are my middle names.
My car broke down.
At a very inconvenient time.
As if there's a convenient time.....
If truth be told.....after I heard the huge thump and saw all the flashing lights on my dashboard....I probably should have stopped driving it. 
But, I had places to be and people to see.
I was on my way to work.  That place.  Those people. 
Still, I could have just stopped driving once I got to work. 
But, then, there was this meeting across town.
So, I crossed my fingers, said a prayer and hoped for the best.
Well, the best turned out to be not so good.  
I found myself in a parking lot in an area that I am not too familiar with, calling a tow truck, missing the meeting and not getting home until way past my normal time.
All of that.
On a Monday.
Wonder what Tuesday has in store for me.