Hot Chik Rules of the Road
In the last 10 days I drove 3,647miles. My muffler pipe fell off after the first 100 miles and I didn’t have time to fix it. I’m now hearing impaired and my ass is still numb … I think I need an ass massage. Volunteers??? (It’s been called "nice", "fine", "succulent" and a few other positive adjectives).
After a number of miles on the road during a high traffic time of year, I’ve come to the conclusion that some people need to go back to driving school. There aren’t very many places a person needs to get to that justify risking your life and those of others to get there quickly. Overall, my experience would have been happier if ALL the other drivers would have known how to drive properly.
- Don’t try to drive up my ass. I know it’s fine (see above), but I don’t want your Buick parked in it!
- On a 6-lane highway, slow traffic goes on the right, fast traffic goes in the middle, and passing traffic goes on the left. Don’t pass people on the right.
- Once you’ve passed someone, get back in the middle or right hand lane. It might feel like your road because you pay a lot of taxes, but guess what? I really think it’s MY ROAD, and I’m being generous enough to share it.
- Wear your seatbelt, ya Dipshit. Anyone who doesn’t … hmmm, I’m not even gonna bother with the stats. You’re just a Dipshit!
- Be careful around motorcycles. Those little guys don’t have a hell of a lot to protect them if your big ‘ol SUV slams into them. So far the trial airbag systems just shoot the drivers off the back and don’t really help a lot.
- Don’t throw cigarette butts out your window after you’ve just passed a motorcycle.
- Respect truck drivers ! ! ! These people are doing their job. When you do dumb shit, you not only risk their lives; you fuck with their livelihood. Stay back far enough so you can see their mirrors … then they can see you. Don’t pull in front of them and slow down. It takes them a lot longer to slow down than a regular ‘ol car. In general, if it looks like they need some space, get outta their way.
- When someone is merging, move over … ya know, like when you’re merging and you need space. Merging can be fun, but only with willing partners.
- Inclined to get a bit of Road Rage? Here’s an idea: entice the other party to pull into a Highway Patrol Station. Once there, get out of your car and get into a screaming match until you get an officer’s attention. Then taunt the other person until they lose control and hit you. Then get back in your car with the satisfaction that they will be spending some time dealing with an assault charge.
- THINK about the fact that you’re in control of a really heavy object that’s moving at a very high speed … I’ll wait while you ponder that thought. Be careful.
Lastly, if you see a curly-headed Hot Chik in a little kelly green Honda with Iowa tags rolling down the highway, wave to me. Or better yet, we can pull-over and have lunch!
For the Love of Family
I've met hundreds of families. As a matter of fact, I didn't just meet a lot of them, I joined with them, delved into their secrets, disected them, and put them under a microscope. I was their helper. Sometimes, I was their last hope.
I was a crisis level family therapist in three of my past jobs. When everything was falling to pieces, I was the one who was called. I showed up on the family's doorstep at any time of day or night because if I didn't, something really, really bad would happen.
I had two goals:
1.) Prevent child abuse.
2.) Prevent the children from being removed from the home.
Imagine the panic ... the horror ... the powerlessness. What if your life got so out of control that someone outside your family had the power to take your children away from you?
Sometimes it needed to happen. Sometimes the wounds created from ripping a kid from the only family they'd ever known was the lesser of two evils. You know the stories. There are some really fucked up adults who do some really fucked up things to kids. I'm not going to tell you any of the gory details. It would ruin your day.
Sometimes things worked out well. One of the first kids I worked with in the program for runaway and homeless youth, decided to return home because he said that I was "meaner" than his Mom. That made me happy. It made his Mom happy too. She and I had lunch afterward and talked about the little dipshit, and how he'd gotten too big for his britches and just needed a little taste of reality. That was a rare situation, but one that I treasure.
Some of us are lucky. We're born into really great families. For the most part, I'm one of those people. I also enjoy a family who holds a value on openness, generosity and hospitality. While I was growing up, more often than not, other people were living with us. Amongst my cohabitants: a secretly pregnant aunt, a teenager my Mom brought home from work because her Dad beat the shit out of her, and a host of foreign exchange students.
Other people who didn't live with us have also attached themselves to our family. They're often folks looking for the open welcoming nurturance that families are supposed to provide for their members. We all want the unconditional love that you can't get anywhere else.
My Dad got very sick very fast when I was 26 years old. It was some sort of rare pneumonia. I was with him that day and I took him to the ER thinking he was having a heart attack. It was noon on Christmas Eve. By midnight the Intensive Care nurse told us he probably wouldn't make it through the night. Thankfully he did make it. In the mean time, the "family-only" visitors room was filled to capacity. At one point, there were 3 men between 25 and 27 years old, all named David, who claimed to be his sons. I've said it before, it’s amazing what people will buy if you look sincere and maintain eye contact.
Right now I'm here in North Carolina with JT and Mark. My parents are here as well, and my youngest sister will be arriving tomorrow. These two beautiful men are surrounded by their family as we celebrate their life together. There are a few fantastic and supportive blood relatives, but most of us are the other kind of family. We're the kind of family that earn the right to be family because we do the things that families are supposed to do. We love one another no matter what ... and forever.
Congratulations on your wedding JT (Jodi) and Mark.
I love you, I'm proud of you ... ... ... and I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but you're stuck with me forever.
My Birthday Present
This is what the Earth gives me for my birthday every year. They're my favorites.
This gig as the Love Goddess can be pretty tough once in a while. However, perks like a dozen exquisite red and indigo California Poppies from Mother E, soften the edges nicely.
Side Note: Thanks to BIG help from Larry, I also have lips now. Click on my name in the upper right corner to see for yourself.
Thanks Larry!
Surviving Birthdays Hot Chik Style: Part I
I'm counting down the days until I reach the annual anniversary of my birth. Damn! Didn’t we just do this a couple months ago? The older you get the faster it goes, my friends.
Over the years I’ve discovered a few things about surviving birthdays. Because I’m a loving and generous gal, I’m going to share some of my wisdom with you. Today’s lesson is about asking for what you need.
The goal is to feel good about yourself and not be dependent on the approval of others for that good feeling. However, reality sucks! And sometimes even a Hot Chik needs a little boost.
Direct Approach:
"Do I look old?"
If you’re going to use this approach to ask for what you need, be smart about it.
* Do not ask a child or a teenager. They don’t have a clue what old is. Everyone over 30 looks the same to them.
* If you ask your partner, don’t ask him/her when he’s running late for work and searching for his keys. If you end up getting the "Huh? Fine Honey. Yeah, sure, nice" response, you’ll be bummed and he’ll be in the doghouse.
* Do not ask my brother. He knows all the buttons to push, and this would provide him with even more ammunition for future torture. (At our age, you’d think he’d give it up!) In fact, if anyone even mentions to him that I have angst about looking old, I’ll sic my Mom on you!
Best scenario: Make a pact with a few of your best gal pals. Agree to the ground rules and be available for age-angst birthday crisis. We Hot Chiks know all the right answers.
- Laugh lines look gorgeous on you, and they show your happy enthusiasm for life.
- Gray hair doesn’t look good on everyone, but on you it works. If you decide you don’t like it, I know a great colorist.
- I’d fuck ya!
- Most men really want a woman with experience. If they don’t, they’re immature little boys who we wouldn’t waste our time with.
- Not a day over …
Sometimes I use a Less Direct Approach. I lie.
Instead of lying and telling people that I’m younger than I really am, I tell them that I’m older. Then I get the alarmed response, "WOW! I never would have guessed!"
It was a lot of fun at work for a while because everyone was trying to figure out my real age without actually asking. Finally people caught on to my game and I had to fess up. I can still play with new people though.
When there are a group of newbies, I’m fond of telling them that I’m 49 and the mother of six, the youngest of which are twin savants, studying the Pan Flute in Athens. It’s amazing what people will buy if you look sincere and maintain eye contact.
Isn’t life fun?
DON’T SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY YET ! ! !
I’M STILL 40 UNTIL NEXT WEEK ! ! !
Don’t worry, I’ll keep reminding you.
