Reclaiming Losers' Club

I am happy to report that last night was a completely non-Loser's Club goes to the PBR.

It turns out that, thanks to the miracles (?) of Western medicine, my family felt well enough to make the trip up north. And my mother's doctor vehemently asserted that none should be contagious. So, I decided to risk it.

All told, a good time was had by all. Sure, it was difficult for me - I think Mr. Zips could have really enjoyed it. And I was hyper aware of his absence. But other than a few tears, the evening was mostly filled with laughter.

One rider got a concussion, but all the riders walked off the field. And as Flint remarked, any PBR event that ends with everyone upright suggests that Life is Good.

I opted not to stay at the hotel in CT - the Grizwald family room sounded like a TB Ward - and so I started the two hour drive home at 10:30. Why I woke up wide awake at 7 this a.m. is beyond me. Ah well, lots of time to run some errands before making the drive up north.

Apartment hunting (finalizing?) and yoga workshop, sunshine and cool, dry weather - Life IS Good.

FedEx Express Same Day Delivery?

Yes please!

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

First, a refresher on "Losers Club Goes to the PBR." This is, pehaps, the most loserclubish of all loserclub histories.

Year one, Mom loses her glasses. And gets so frenzied trying to find them that she works herself into a fever. Glasses are found and she winds up spending the time between the "Meet the Riders" event and the actual bucking at a Barnes and Noble taking a "sink bath" to cool down and refresh after sweating off all of her makeup.

Year two, Mom and I are driving down to Worcester, MA from Brattleboro, VT. The weather forecast doesn't look good, but what the heck. By Greenfield, it's snowing. By the time we get on the Pike, it's icing. By the time we get to Palmer, it's whiteout conditions. To this day I still have flashbacks to being behind the wheel, unable to tell where the sky ends and the road begins.

Year three we get smart. (ha!) We rent a hotel room in Worcester so we can get up early, go to the Meet the Riders event and then spend the afternoon relaxing. Except that we get over to Meet the Riders and find out that it was held two hours earlier because the hotel double booked the ballroom. Despair ensues. But no matter, someone on the inside tells us that the cowboys come back to the hotel after the event to blow off some steam. So after the event, we too go back to the hotel. Mom meets Justin McBride, the night's winner and one of the biggest all-time champs. Mom gets so excited that she starts dry heaving in the cab.

All of this to fill you in on this year's Loser Club.

Parents and Big Bro were to be driving up to Mohegan Sun. Me and Mr. Zips were to be meeting them in CT. Much money was spent on tickets.

So I am bitter that there will be an empty seat next to me. But I did my best to put a cheerful face on it and had decided that I would use this opportunity to Git Me a Husband. After all, those boys may not be too bright and they might be *just a tad* too religious. But they sure are good lookin'. And rich. And in damn fine shape. (They buck bulls for gods' sake!)

Too bad that this is the most loserclubish of all mostloserclubbish years. Because this year, Mom and Dad are sick. Not just sniffle sick. Full on, knock-down-drag-out sick. And contagious. And so they're likely not going to make the drive up to Mohegan. And, even if they do, I'm not sure I could chance catching what they've got. Because (if I haven't mentioned) I start my new job in two weeks and I'm moving in four.

Of course, the irony is that if Mr. Zips hadn't timed things the way he did, this could have been an AWESOME weekend. An evening filled with adrenaline. A paid-for hotel room for the two of us.

Buckin A.

My Wife Has?

Watching the Democratic debate tonight. I'm such a dork.

I really like Barack. No secret. But I'm not sure what I think about his response to Equal Marriage. Sure, he talks about extending rights and benefits (without defeating DOMA btw). Great. When Tim asked him if he'd talked to his daughters about same sex couples he answered, "My Wife Has."

What does that mean? Does it mean Daddy Obama is uncomfortable talking with kiddoes about the gays? Does it mean that Daddy Obama kisses kiddies on the head and sends them off to bed and lets Mommie do the parenting? Or, maybe it's just an honest response - kids asked mom one day, out of the blue, the way kids do, and mom responded, end of story?

I wish I could stop reading so much into all of this....

I really hate to say this but I love Barack's rhetoric, but Hillary sounds like she's got the numbers, the stats, the facts, and the (ugh) experience. Unfortunately, she looks awful. Hill, hon, lose those jowls. I knew Richard Nixon and you, Hillary, are no Richard Nixon. (OK, I didn't really know Richard Nixon.)

PS - Go DENNIS! I really wish I could believe that a vote for Kucinich would matter...

PPS - I am a tad offended by one of the final questions: Candidates, name your favorite Bible passage. I mean, sure, they all had good responses. Love your neighbor, Do unto others. Sentiments that are noble and good in general. But why specify Bible? Is this not America? Why not say religious passage?

Of course, I was cheered by Barack's response that he would have to say The Beatitudes. Did he say Blessed Are the Cheesemakers?

Antidote for a Bad Day

I'm having a bad day. It's 9:30 a.m. and I've been awake for 5 and a half hours.

But no matter how bad it gets, I'm still way better off than David Hasselhoff.

I give you the antidote for a bad day.