Well, last week was another freaking weekend, and baby, I had me a little bit of fun. Nothing R. Kelly style or anything, but it went OK. I started my weekend off with a bust, when driving to work Friday morning. I was running a tad bit late, and by late, that means I would have made it to my 0900 appointment right on time, rather than showing up to work before I had to meet my client, like I usually like to do. As I was about to take the exit off I-5, I noticed a fancy red Ford Mustang behind me riding my tail. Thinking nothing of it, all of a sudden his sirens went off. Now listen, being pulled over is not a foreign concept to me. I have been pulled over 16 times and I've yet to receive an official ticket (I was once given a ticket when I got in a major car accident for careless driving, endangering a passenger, and destroying public property, but it never got turned in and was dismissed, therefore, I don't count it). So as I'm finding a kosher spot to pull over for this guy (of course he flashes his lights at the longest stretch of road without a shoulder or side road to access), I'm not at all freaked or scared. The worst thing he can do is give me a ticket, though I usually get let off the hook.
I go to grab my registration and insurance out of the glove box so it's all ready by the time he even gets up to my window, but before I know it, the guy is knocking on my window, as if I'm not aware of his presence. I roll it down for him, and he starts right into, "License and registration..insurance, too. You were going 76 in a 60." I don't know why, but that really pushed a button of mine. Again, I've been pulled over - a lot - and hell, I've even worked with cops before. Even the biggest d-bags still will give a girl a simple "hello," or "good afternoon," etc. They also tend to ask if you know why you were pulled over, giving you an opportunity to be witty and charming. This guy stole every chance for me to do so; just gave me attitude about my speed. All of a sudden, I have diarrhea mouth, and say, "Yeah, thanks; I was speeding because I was already late to work, and now I'm going to be more late." Eye contact, death stare. I may have also rolled my eyes. At this point, I knew I sealed my fate. There was no way in hell I'd be let out of this ticket.
This guy was attractive. I try not to let it offend me that the first speeding ticket I actually received was from a young, fit cop. Fine, Mr. Sparkly Blue Eyes, write me a ticket. You're wearing a yellow gold wedding band, so I'm silently making fun of you in my mind. I think it's cool you're married, as am I, and I bet your wife speeds on the occasion as well. He handed me my citation and snorted, "Do you know how to take care of that?" What?! I just said, "Yep," and threw my car in reverse. That may have been the least amount of chatty I have ever been with an individual ever in my life. I can usually chew the fat with anyone, but this guy elicited no conversational skills of mine whatsoever. I called into work to let them know I'd be a few minutes late, so to please let my appointment know I'd be with her momentarily. Instead, my appointment decided she'd go run some errands around town and reschedule with me for another day. Beautiful.
All in all, my first speeding ticket: not so bad. It wasn't that expensive and other than the cop giving me a sour taste in my mouth, I have to be honest, I would have been more irritated by him if he had the attitude and lack of a nice face; so at least I can be grateful for that. Every appointment I had scheduled for Friday had canceled or rescheduled for one reason or another, so in other words, everything about that day was done in vain: my ticket, driving all the way up to work in Salem, hell, getting dressed for the day. All of it was kind of a waste. And how do people like me deal with days like this? Most would go home and get drunk. I, on the other hand, have this weird quirk about me where I try not to drink on a bad day. Instead, I eat Chinese food. Chinese food is my alcohol on a sucky, sucky day. It did the trick. After eating, I ran a few errands in a shopping center I was nearby, and at the spur of the moment, decided I'd get my bangs trimmed since they were definitely past due. Guess what? Never get your bangs trimmed from a hair salon in a mall. Sorry, Master Cuts, you ruined my face. Oh well, two weeks and they'll be just right, right??
Saturday morning, my best friend Carl (yes, the Carl), my husband and I went out shooting around Mary's Peak. The three of us share the common ground of being from Eastern Oregon living in the Western side of Oregon. I guess I should really say "the two of them," since I try to pretend I'm not actually from Eastern Oregon. Anyway, as many people who grew up in small towns like to do, one of their favorites is gun slinging and target shooting. (I actually don't know what gun slinging is, it just sounded like a good term to use.) I know the boys have wanted to shoot for some time, so I decided to round them up for a few hours of doing what they love. I can appease them for a couple hours of my time, right? 
I really don't have the attention span for shooting. It's something I'd love to be really secretly fantastic at, since I think it'd be a great skill to hustle people with. Who would look at me me and think I was great at shooting a rifle? I mean, they might guess I'd be great at throwing ninja stars, but probably not using a firearm. But alas, I just can't get my mind to focus on it or keep interest for more than a few minutes at a time. Then, I end up doing things that get me in trouble, like jump on the hood of the car and dent it with my ass print. The day went on, and we really weren't out for very long. The boys shot rifles and shotguns, and I did a little shooting as well. It takes me a little bit to warm up, but then I find my groove and become actually decent. We had targets lined out and we'd have shooting competitions where you had to hit certain targets in a certain order, and whoever got all of their targets in that order first, won. I did win one round with the husband, butttt he is a great shot, so I would venture to guess he was letting me.  |
| The Carl, himself |
Saturday evening, Lee and I sat down to watch a movie and decided upon The Dark Knight Rises, since I have yet to see it, and it's on my IMDB Top 250 list. I don't even know how this happens, but I fell asleep. Straight zonked out. For the first 20 minutes or so, I honestly tried to stay awake, doing that head nodding thing. Then I finally gave into it. I rotated my body so it wasn't even facing the TV anymore, and closed my eyes listening to Christian Bale's over-dramatized raspy voice. I woke up just in time to catch Batman pulling a Jesus to save the rest of Gotham City, and Joseph Gordan-Lovitt looking swell as per ushe. Guess I can't cross that one off my list yet. Somehow, I have to summon up the will power to do better at this movie-watching thing. Until then, I'll keep catching 30 minutes here and there.
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"The only cure for paranoia is to be here, just as you are." - Meredith Grey, Grey's Anatomy
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