Cock A Doodle Do

During my prior, exciting life as a lobbyist, I experienced and witnessed many strange things. And you'd think that with all of the booze-fueled conventions, private meetings with candidates/elected officials, not to mention numerous public hearings I testified at, that I'd seen it all (and perhaps I did, hee-hee!) But I learned over and over that the strangest things of all occur in small towns. And the smaller the town, the more seriously it takes itself. (I also learned that the smaller a town, the longer the council meeting would run -- you could bet big money on that fact!)

San Juan Batista just so happens to be one of these tiny towns. I had the opportunity to work with their staff on many occasions, due to some serious wastewater issues that affected San Benito County (SJB had 2 seats on the local water boards, yadda, yadda . . . long & smelly story). San Juan Batista is right next to the town that became my own personal version of Hell, a.k.a. Hollister, both being located in God-forsaken San Benito County. SJB has a town population of 1,500 (yes, that's 1,500!) It is home to a historic Mission, which is mainly how it survives -- via tourism dollars that come from visitors who stay for lunch or make purchases in the semi-funky downtown. I can attest to the fact that they have a couple of good restaurants in their downtown, as well as a kick-ass ice cream parlor.

Well, now it appears that the world is getting to know San Juan Batista.

I swear, the roosters and chickens are EVERYWHERE!!! Seriously, the SJB downtown is all of 4 or 5 blocks, and those roosters & chickens are like moving speedbumps, slowing everything down. You know how a rooster STRUTS? Well, these roosters seemed to have an added bravado about them -- like they KNEW they were in charge of the town!

Loved the name "Grace Nutter," by the way -- how right-on is that?! Definitely Small Town, U.S.A. -- you can't make up stuff this zany!

Queen of The Lists

Anyone who knows me is well-aware that I am a fan of lists. I make them all the time -- for groceries, to prioritize work responsibilities, and (every two weeks) to determine the most gas-efficient route in which to run those post-payday errands. I even make lists of the things that make me happy, as well as those that stress me out. Making lists helps me put order in my life, calms my nerves, reminds me to count my blessings, and makes the scary/overwhelming stuff seem more manageable.

And sometimes I just do it to blow off steam.

Therefore, it seems like a good time to write out a semi-serious/semi-humorous list of the things that have shown up on my mental radar and been subsequently filed in the "sh*t that bugs me" category (in random order):

* Timid drivers (in or out, make a damn decision!)
* Men who wear outdated glasses (live in the now, please!)
* People who dare try to intimidate me (HINT: trust me, it only makes me dig in my high heels even further!)
* Being held back at work (don't tell me I'm a star and then not let me shine!)
* The PA Liquor Control Board (you will be eliminated, so help me God)
* Rude people (It's not me, it's YOU!)
* Inconsiderate people (My time is important, and I do exist, thank you very much!)
*Absence of a Victoria's Secret in my neighborhood (a tragedy)
* Adrian and Noah live too far away (We'll bring the wine, yinz bring the guns, and we'll meet in da middle!)
* I have never met Jesse in person (I'd love to watch him in action at a bar)
* That I don't get to see often enough the friend I can be truly honest with (Thanks for "getting me")
* Not being able to go back in time and have a few "do-overs" (If I could, I swear I'd rule the world!)
* PostSecret only posts new secrets once a week (Soooo addictive)
* I can't IM from work (I really, really miss being able to do this!)
* Indecisiveness (I hate grey, unless it's on bathroom towels)
* Adrianne Frost gets to take credit for a book I wish I had wrote myself! (I tend to like the kids who have parents that recognize how important discipline is in child-development. My parents took NO SH*T -- what has happened to this latest generation of parents?!)

Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Tree

Just got the news last night . . . my brother has a DATE this weekend. Her name is Kris. They are going skating.

I know what you're thinking -- who cares? Why is this news?

Because it's my BABY BROTHER who has the date!

Yep, 9-year-old Mr. Chad came home earlier in the week and announced that he needs to be "dropped off" at the skating rink this coming weekend. That's code for "Yer not coming with me -- don't even think about it!" He followed it up with "Kris's parents are dropping her off, too."

While the rest of the family is getting a big kick out of all of this, Big Bill pondered aloud with an important question . . . "WHO IS GOING TO TIE MR. CHAD'S SKATES FOR HIM?!?!"

ROTFLMAO, folks!