Quiet In the Theatre, Please!

Some of you know that, despite his oilfield career and time spent in the sticks, ThatManILove is somewhat of a culture snob. He LOVES plays, independent movies, poetry, reading, art galleries, anything that has to do with the “Ahhts, Dahlink!”. It’s almost an obsession with him. His love for the arts has opened up a whole new world for me, and I love it.

Coming in to Denver, I saw on my boarding pass (at 5:30a.m., as we boarded the red-eye to Denver from Dallas) that Phantom of the Opera was showing that same night. ThatManILove took the liberty of purchasing tickets, and when I got to the hotel, room service awaited. (I know, I’m spoiled!) Room service cost us out the butt, with a $28 dollar delivery charge (from the restaurant in.the.hotel, people!)! And when ThatManILove figured out he tipped on top of that, he wasn't a happy camper. This menu should read "feed the body, nourish the soul, max out your credit card".

We enjoyed the weather, and walked to the theatre. Our seats were divine. We settled in to watch the play. Neither of us had ever seen it, though ThatManILove was very familiar with the story and had seen the movie. The set was amazing, as were the costumes.

Midway through the first half, I’m more than a little perplexed, but trying to keep it to myself. I just can’t get the flow of the story. And I’ve been to the opera in several cities, so I’m no dummy about it. I just chalked my inability to comprehend to the fact that I’d had little sleep, worry about my brother, intense meeting that day in Denver, etc. And, then…

That ManILove leaned over: Are you enjoying this?

Me (Oh, God. Is it that apparent? Was I wriggling around? Sighing? What?): Sure, honey!
TMIL: Do you understand what’s going on?
Me: Uh, yeah. I got it, I understand. (Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.)

TMIL: I'm glad you do. I know the story and I'm having a hard time following it. I don't know if they've abbreviated it, or they're having a hard time flowing or what, but something's off.

TMIL: This is horrible. Do you want to leave?

I was in shock. And then, horror of horrors, I started giggling. I mean, this was so out of sync for ThatManILove. He knew we were in trouble then. Our seats were such that he bundled me out of there, posthaste. By the time we cleared the door to the theatre and got to the elevator, tears were streaming down my face and he was laughing.

He cracks me up.

I now have a whole new appreciation for his appreciation of the arts. When it’s good, it is very very good. When it’s very bad, we are out of there! Woohoo, Dahlink!!

Energy Update: That's Made from Oil? No Way!!

You know, the energy industry is either boom or bust, feast or famine. I’ve been doing what I do for 25 years, and I don’t think we’ve had a time when we could just “cruise.” To top it off, mainstream media hates the oil and gas industry. All they can talk about is the price of a gallon of gas...something that is regulated by many different things. Sometimes, it’s wearing to be in a field that is always in the negative limelight. 

I go places (outside the oilfield), and people ask what I do. When I tell them, they frown. And then, tell me, “You are EVIL.” I’m always nice, but inside, I want to scream, “Do you know you really can’t live well without us?” So, I decided I’d show you a little bit about my industry. It is, after all, an industry that I dearly love. And who knows, maybe you'll see it a little differently after today.

Way past the basics of energy for your house, and gas for your vehicle (car enamel, dashboards, antifreeze, safety glass for that front window, additives, oil, tires and fan belts, etc.), there are some of the menial things essential to living well that you utilize every day... and they all are derived in some form or fashion from the oil and gas industry.

Got an Ipod ? The casing is plastic. Plastic is made from...wait for it...petroleum.
What about that laptop or desktop? Sweet. Oilfield, baby.
Cameras for those great picture moments? For sure, oil.
Play a guitar? What makes up your strings? Oil. Oh, yeah, baby, sing it. Right through those speakers. That, by the way, are also made from a petroleum product.

Wear makeup? Most makeup has a petroleum base.
Perfume? Eyeglasses? Even your soft contact lenses? Oil, baby.
Seal it with a kiss...because your favorite lipstick probably is made from petroleum.
Need cold cream to take that lipstick off? Thank the oilfield.
How about nail polish? Oil. Don’t like the color, need nail polish remover? Oil.

Does your kiddo draw with crayons? Yup. Oilfield.
Play with Legos? Oilfield. Model cars, trains, planes? Oil and gas, baby.
Baby dolls, trucks, trikes and bikes? Oil.
Huggies? Luvs? Passies? Made from oil...to help you take care of that precious baby. And when you put him or her in that life-saving carseat? Rest assured, it’s made from Oil.

Are all your clothes white? Or that unbleached fabric? Because if they have any color to them at all, the dye has some petroleum product in it. Speaking of clothes, the detergent you wash them with - is a petroleum product.
Go fishing? Fishing rods, line, nets, boots, lures, life jackets, oars. Cooler. Water skis. Wakeboards. Tow rope. Fishing BOAT, for God’s sake. All petroleum based.
Shower curtain? Shampoo? Hand Lotion? Oil and gas. Again.

How about that cellphone? Coffeemaker? Those cool little appliances that help you make it through the day, from drying your hair to making a grilled cheese? And do you play those old LPs or CD’s throughout the day? All petroleum based.
.
Scotch Tape? Electrical tape? Duct tape? Glue? Paint brushes? Paint rollers?
Bicycle/motorcycle helmets? Trash bags? All that, and more are made from oil.

Do you use a toilet seat? Yeah. Seriously. You’re sitting on oil, baby.
How about those credit/debit cards? P.l.a.s.t.i.c. - made from o.i.l.

Are you a golfer? You couldn’t be without those little white balls! Petroleum. Shooter? Parts of your gun are made from oil. Tennis player? Rugby? Any sport known to man? I bet the oil and gas industry has some part in it.

Wax your floor? Yup. Is it linoleum? Yup again. Use a mop? Burn a candle? Oil.
How about when you write a check? Use a ballpoint pen? Oil.

What if you fall and get a booboo? Need a bandage? Oh, yeah, honey, it’ll get better with oil. Are you diabetic and need insulin injections? The syringes...are made from oil.
Take antihistamines? Aspirin? Cortisone? Wear dentures? Use a toothbrush, comb, brush, hair curlers? Glycerin, insect repellant? Gotcha. All made from Oil.

Anyone been in the hospital lately? The shunt they put in your arm to start an IV---oilfield. The Christmas tree contraption they add to that so you can get 4 different meds by 4 different delivery systems – made from oil, and the technology came from the oilpatch.

And what about the very process of running a camera into an artery? That process originated in the oilfield, as well, if I’m not mistaken. These and numerous other medical advances were fueled by the injection of oilfield workers into another field, bringing their knowledge and can-do with them.

I could go on and on, forever. But I’ll leave you with this: When your future’s so bright you gotta wear shades...remember this: you wouldn’t be sporting that badass bling without the oil and gas industry. So next time you see your favorite oilfield worker, don’t trash them. Give them a hug.

And maybe even a pair of those bling bling shades. © 2009 Janie Snelson

Gourmet Dinner - a la Super Suppers in Midland!

Do you have a SuperSuppers in your town? If not, open a franchise. They are AMAZING. We have one in Midland, and due to mi vida loca schedule, I frequent them…frequently! And I'm never disappointed.

Today, ThatManILove and I are going to see the movie “New In Town”. When we return to our humble abode, awaiting us in the oven will be Cranberry Pork Tenderloin. It will be accompanied by Baby Baked Potatoes, a fresh Garden Salad, and (oh, Lord, help me!) a Chocolate Cobbler. All compliments of our local Super Suppers.

I’ll let you know how everything is…I promise. Right after I awaken from my carb and sugar induced coma. Yummmmmmm.

Happy Anniversary!

Today is my 1 year anniversary at my new job. It’s been quite a year. Lots of up, and then more recently, a down.

I’m flying to Denver right now, and tried to catch up on writing a little. As I was going through my files, I found my job offers from my present company. And I started laughing.

When this company offered me a job, I turned it down flat. They came back, offered again. (They had been talking to me for some months.) Finally, on the third offer, I decided to accept. And, then I realized…they had not converted the offer to a pdf file.

I could not resist. You guessed it…I jacked with the offer. To a huge degree of excess. I added several zeros onto every figure, and upped my vacation to 25 weeks a year, added some other perks. I signed the offer, converted it to a pdf, and sent it to my boss, with a quick e-mail: “Here it is finally! Glad we agreed and I look forward to working with you. Please forward to HR asap for processing so I might give notice.”

He did.

The next day, HR called him. And he called me.

Janie, I think we may have made a mistake on the offer letter.

Seriously? Want to retract it? I’m good with that.

No! We want you to go to work with us, but I think HR messed up when they typed it up..there are some typos. HR called me and they’re all upset.

I think he was having a heart attack. I had to confess.

Dude. It’s a rule, though most likely unwritten. Documents such as that need to be in read only form or pdf form so people can’t change them.

He cracked up. HR thought it was funny. The partners of the company found it hilarious.

The firm now pdf’s…everything.

Those Dang Serta Sheep Got Out of The Pen

Thursday night, I couldn’t sleep. Thank God I went to bed early and caught a couple of hours of shuteye, because about 1 a.m., I was a.w.a.k.e. Decided to do a little work, since I was up, anyhow.

Later Friday morning, I received this e-mail:

-----Original Message-----
To: Janie

From: Rockstar

Janie,
I am a little concerned. You see, I have a manager that is staying up all hours of the night probably because of Starbucks and blogging. Approving invoices at 2:15am and the like. What would you tell this manager?
~~~~~~~~~

From: Janie
To: Rockstar
Sent: Fri Feb 06 09:17:39 2009
Subject: RE: Worried

Rockstar,

If I were you, and I had such a manager, I would be asking the following questions of said manager:

(1) Why did you take the wrong daytime vitamins at 8:30 p.m. last night before you went to bed?
(2) What's up with ABC Oil Company calling you at 4 p.m. yesterday and demanding a 25% cut by first thing Friday morning if we wanted to stay on the vendor list?
(3) Why didn't you get to relax and read blogs instead of worrying and working all night?

Nuff said. If you forward anyone this e-mail you will be in deepa poopa...

Thanks for caring!

Janie

-----Original Message-----

From: Rockstar

To: Janie

Subject: Re: Worried

Okay you need more time to focus on the small stuff than I thought. I am glad you don't drink or you might have a bad hangover this morning.

Whaaaattt? Well, heck. At least he cares – and that’s why we call him Rockstar!

By the way, it's lunch...I am in need of speed. Caffiene. Ginko Biloba. Something.

Or, maybe just a little sleep.

Blogger Help

I know I've been pretty needy this week.

It is my current quest in life to become a better blogger. To respond. To read. To comment. To devote my whole day to blogging. Well, at least what's left of it after working all the day long in my oilpatch, and doing hunting dog things, and shooting, and taking care of my family. (Notice the ranking of that...I may already be in trouble and needing intervention.)

Thusly, I have questions for you bloggers. Wanna play?

(1) Do you post, or try to post, on a daily basis?

(2) Do you respond back to commenters within your comments section? Or do you email each and every one of them?

(3) How many blogs do you visit a day?

(I may be working too closely with our engineers. I'm getting way deep into collecting data. )

Becoming One With the Mac - by Captain Smack

Oh, yeah, I can hear the crowd roaring now: Be the Mac! Be the Mac! Be the Mac!

Holly, The Blue Ridge Gal and My friend JP of The Big Red Lunchbox and the photoblog Bleu Chocolate (go check him out!) all left Mac tips for which I’m very grateful. I will be trying them out. Brother Scott told me to call upon my nephews, which is a dang good idea, if I can possibly coordinate my calendar with their calendar. Lots of people told me to just go ahead and load my shotgun.

Captain Smack from the blog “This Is Your Captain Speaking” left a comment concerning my Mac I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up MacRant yesterday.

With his permission, I’m going to share it with you.

"If you're having trouble with The Mac, it is a spiritual problem, not a technical one. The Mac is not a brand, dear, it is a religion. Obviously, you are not believing in The Mac hard enough. To become one with The Macness, say this prayer:

Dear Steve Jobs

Who art in iHeaven

Hallowed be thy apps

I giveth unto you

Thy heart Thy soul

And thy credit card information

In hopes that you will show me

The error of my PC ways

And leadeth me from temptation

The temptation of using a much cheaper

And much more user-friendly product

For you are The One

And The Zero

And all the ones and zeros

The Alpha and Omega

Not to mention that iPhone thingy

Which really kicks ass

Though it is a bit pricey

But I digress

Anyway

Please give your commercially hip guidance

To me, my mouse, and my wallet

And show me

The Way

The Way to copy a simple file from one folder to another, which really shouldn't be that hard, but for some reason is, like, a total freaking pain in the ass, what the hell???

*ahem*

I shall fear not

As I walk through the shadow of the valley

Of bad customer service

And confusing help menus

And toolbars placed in odd locations

For no apparent reason

For I know that at the end

Of this struggle

I will learn how to copy/paste jpegs

And even install some freeware

And then it will all make sense

For I can brag that I have a Mac

I am one of The Chosen Ones

And all those PC users

Can kiss my ass.

Whatever and ever

Amen"

Mac-a-doodle-dooooo! (A Cry In the Darkness For Help)

As some of you may remember, ThatManILove bought me a MacBook Pro for Christmas.
And, believe it or not, I’m having Windows withdrawal symptoms. Or, Mac adjustment problems. I thought it was supposed to be an intuitive machine. To my credit, I've only been on it about 10 times since Christmas, due to mi vida loca and crazy schedule.

I can’t right click to copy.

I can’t copy and edit hyperlink with the click of a button and the drag of a mouse.

I can’t watch a wmv.

I can barely drag a post from Pages to my blog (though that is pretty cool!), and when I do, it loses format.

Help! Maybe I can call 1-800- Mac for Dummies??

Any suggestions for tutorials? I can’t be the first dummy to want to be Mac literate! Run to my aid, fellow bloggers! I don’t want to be stuck in the dark ages forever! And what the heck am I going to do with all my contacts in Microsoft Outlook?

Update: I went to Best Buy, to my local Mac expert. I told him all the above, and he said:

I've not utilized a Windows PC in 18 years.

And that's the expert that's supposed to help me? Where's my freakin' shotgun? I asked him if there were any tutorials other than the ones on the machine, and he told me to go buy a book on Leopard. You guessed it. My response: What's Leopard? Yuppers, I've got some homework to do.

I did spend another $300+ dollars for the Mac Airwaves wireless modem (because Mac doesn't like Linksys) and a cable to transfer data from my PC to my Mac ; all which leads me to believe if I spend enough money, I'll get it all down. Until then, I'll take all the help I can get.

Surprising Encounters of the VodkaMom Kind

Oh, my Lord! Go, quick! And see what happened to VodkaMom last night! Yaaahooooooo! (Please leave comments on her blog and congratulate her!)

Trouble At The Movies - or, How To Really Get His Goat

I know, I know. I screwed up my template by playing with the free Blogger templates. Bear with me, this one is hard to read. I couldn't go back to the original, it lost format and made me crazy. And yeah, it wasn't a far walk.

On to our regularly scheduled program.

ThatManILove is a movie aficianado. So much so, that while he was exiled on the mountain in Pennyslvania, I went to one movie - the Chihuahua movie - and I took the Little Brother. I was bound and determined to save all my movie dates for ThatManILove.

Last night, we decided to take Little Brother to see Mall Cop, and go for the 7:10 p.m. showing. We bought the tickets online early in the afternoon. I decided to take a long bubbly soak in the jacuzzi tub and read a Dixie Cash novel. ThatManILove comes in and gives me a time check, letting me know I have an hour. I get out and get ready. We leave the house at 6:35 p.m.

Such is the setting for the next conversation.

TMIL: Jane. Are you ready? (Remember, he calls me “Jane” when he’s mad?)

Janie: Yes.

TMIL: It’s Saturday night and it’s going to be crowded.

Janie: No, it’s not.

Little Brother: What’s wrong?

Janie: TMIL’s pissed at me because I took so long to get ready and we’re going to be at the theatre right when the movie starts. (Aside to TMIL) The movie’s been out for a while, it won’t be crowded. We’ll get there and get a seat just in time to watch 20 minutes of dancing boxes.

TMIL: See, that’s your thinking. I guess we’re going to be doomed to have this conflict every time we go to the damn show. You always make us be late because you hate the dancing boxes. I think you do it on purpose.

Little Brother: What are the dancing boxes?

TMIL: That’s what Jane calls the previews and advertisements.

We get to the movie, and fight the traffic to find a place to park. People are standing outside, in a line that lasts for.ev.er. And the concessions? Packed to the max. There’s a recession going on, people? What are you doing here? What am I doing here? Oh, Lordy. I am so going to be in trouble. I start to cringe, inside. That man loves his movie popcorn, it's part of the whole experience for him, and it looks like we might have to forgo such. We go straight to the ticket taker, passing up two lines of people that are there for another show. He waves us in, and we go into our theatre.

Said theatre is so freakin’ crowded that we can only find two seats together. And of course, the seats are in the middle of the row, so that means no popcorn for ThatManILove. I mean, two empty seats together in the whole theatre. The advertisements haven’t even started! Little Brother jets us for a single seat down front, saying he likes to sit there. He’s probably just running from our eternal conflict concerning the movies. I’ve told y’all all along he’s a smart kiddo!

We sit down. I glance to my left to check out how ThatManILove is breathing. At the same time, he’s checking me out. I tentatively smile. He doesn’t. And then, he does. He is so jacking with me, and grabs my hand.

We laugh our butts off at the movie. It’s really funny, but to make it even better, the 5 year old little girl sitting to ThatManILove’s right is laughing so hard she’s crying. And ThatManILove got tickled at her laughing, which made me laugh harder.

It’s never boring around here!

Little Brother, Advocate For the Elderly

Little Brother when he first wakes up...how do guys do this?  He's so cute. And yes, that's his sock in the background.  Looks like he slept on the couch last night.

Little Brother (LB) called Friday night and begged to come stay the weekend.  (He always gets his timing just right!)  I picked him up at Whataburger, where he had just finished a double Whopper with bacon and cheese.  It's so good to see him! We then went to meet friends at the new Chinese/Japanese/Thai restaurant, Ginza.  

There, LB ate Sesame Chicken.  While we were there, we also picked up an entree for ThatManILove, who was stuck out in the field and hit the house around 10 p.m.  Whereby, LB sat down at the table with ThatManILove and finished off his take home box of sesame chicken.  The kid is a bottomless pit, I swear.  He cracks me up.  And he's tall and skinny...I don't know where all this food goes??

After the field trial yesterday, we stopped by  my brother Scott’s Auction House in Big Spring to see what he would be selling at his auction on Sunday.  An auction house is full of adventure for a 12 year old, just saying.  LB met all of Scott’s helpers, two of whom are disabled and are on electric scooters due to their ailments.

LB poked around, asked questions, and generally entertained himself for an hour just by snooping.  We were about to leave, and LB discovered a couple of electric scooters.  One wasn’t charged - but one was in full operating order.  LB ran to Scott, and asked permission to ride it, which Scott gave, grinning.  Everybody loves LB.

LB carefully rode around for a while, then  came back to where we were all congregated, and starts talking to Scott’s helpers again.  While doing so, LB backed the scooter professionally into its original parking space.  Everybody’s watching, and enjoying him.

LB turns off the scooter, and stands up, grinning like a cheshire cat, and says loudly, “Wow.  Now I know how elderly people have fun.”

He really means it.

The Jill and Janie Chronicles

I had a huge day yesterday, going from appointment to appointment to appointment (do y’all think I’m repeating myself? Just wait!) to lunch to another appointment, to yet another one (hey David, I’m so glad you didn’t have a pink thong waiting on me when I arrived at your office) to another meeting at the Los Colinas Country Club. Then, when my young whippersnapper salesman Rockstar dropped me off at my hotel at 7:30 p.m., I had yet another date. Yes, another chariot awaited me at the front door of my hotel – Pam and The Bearded One were there to take me for dessert and coffee. I know, I am so spoiled. We had fun!

All that to say…I’ve not yet had time to regale you with the story about my meeting with JillJillBoBill. So, shoot me! Feel free to go visit the heifer…she made me laugh this morning with her version of our fated meeting! Love ya, girlfriend.

I’m heading back to the West of Texas, where the sunsets freakin’ rock, the sand blows, the rattlesnakes are a daily occurrence, and the only trees are pumpjacks. In other words, I’ll be baaaaack! Brace yourselves, me hardies!

Just Another Day in the Life of That Janie Girl

It’s 10:36 p.m. Are you awake? I am. But I’m trying to wind down and go to sleep. Have a flight to catch to the big Houston in the morning, have to pack, all that stuff. Yes, off I go to Yet.Another.Meeting.

But this one has a twist. Meetings start at lunch tomorrow and will last until sometime Thursday after lunch. And then…

My fellow coworkers and I are going to the King Ranch. THE King Ranch. Yeah, That One. We’re going to shoot guns, go on a hog hunt, go quail hunting, and bay fishing. All paid for by my employer.

And yeah.

Once again, I’m the ONLY female going. In all my years selling in the Oilpatch, I've watched my male counterparts take customers to the King Ranch. Never have I been asked to go. I am so excited, just to see it. Believe me, it will be Have Camera Will Travel. Some of the World Trophy Bucks live forever on this ranch. And I'll get to see them!

ThatManILove isn't able to go, it's an employee only trip. He's more than a little jealous, but told me he would be mad if I declined the trip. He's such a sweetheart. That's why he's ThatManILove!

Have I told y’all I LOVE MY JOB?

I Want A New Blog (Design)

I want to redesign my blog.  New colors.  Some kind of cool design. I like looking at all your cool blogs.  They ROCK.  And though if I did research, and read up on it, and played around, I could probably do it myself, I really don’t have time to do it myself (I know, I should quit my freaking whining, right?  Maybe get a life or something?).  

Yeah, well, follow me, bloggers.  Walk a mile in my shoes.   Or, better yet, just enjoy it vicariously...you’ll sleep better and have a lot less stress in your life, I promise!

So...ideas?  Referrals?  I’ll pay.  Hell, why not?  We pay for everything!  Our lives are so non-stop right now it’s the only way we can function with any sanity. Want to walk my dogs? Train my dogs? Take my dogs hunting while I take customers somewhere else, hunting? (Yeah - this is how crazy it gets sometimes! ) House sit? Do laundry? Run errands? Clean the house? Wash the vehicles? Mow the lawn? Today, I could have paid someone to talk for me, because.my.voice.is.gone. Gone.  History.

I could go on.  Bottom line, I need to clone myself so I can get everything done!  

I’m open to blog design ideas.  My perfect world would be a design was simple, beautiful, that incorporated mi vida loca, oilpatch, hunting and included ThatManILove, our sons and the wonderdogs, but, yeah...someday I’ll walk on the moon.  I said simple, didn’t I?  Oh, yeah.

Show me what ya got. Or tell me where to go.  

I walked right into that one, didn’t I?

Travis Erwin House Fire

I’m about a week behind finding this out, but my friend Travis Erwin (founder of My Town Monday) and his family suffered a huge loss on January 4 when their home in Amarillo, Texas burned to the ground. Travis, his wife and young sons are alive and well, thank God. They lost all of their possessions as well as their home.

Erica Orloff and friends started a Habitat for Travis blog, and you can donate there by buying a brick at a time, if you’ve a mind to do so.

Bloggers are givers – and I know that if you’re able, you will give.

Woe Despair and Agony on Me

I feel like I've been run over by a Mack truck.

I had a little relapse, and the wonder doc says I’m knocking on the pneumonia door. Lovely. Absolutely lovely.

So my bohiney has some injection marks in it, and it’s sore. The Hello Kitty bandaids did nothing to help the pain. My chest is sore from all the coughing. I’m taking major antibiotics and super duper prescription cough medicine. Downing vitamin C like there’s no tomorrow. The only good thing is that, when I’m not asleep or in some drug-induced stupor, I’m able to catch up on all your blogs.

I’ll leave you with this picture that one of my consultants sent me from his and his girlfriend’s vacation in Belize. And no, I didn’t even ask. Because this inquiring mind Does. Not. Want. To. Know.

We May Need to Call That 1-800 Number

Janie asked me to do a guest post. So, hello, readers, this is ThatManSheLoves typing here!

As many of you know, I have been working up in the Northeast for the past 3 ½ months. Wasn’t sure I was even going to see my Brown Eyed Girl, much less Elder Son and Younger Son or the Wonder Dogs (the ZZ Crew) for Christmas. But, miraculously, after a 6 hr (120 miles @ less than 30 mph av. speed) drive to Pittsburgh, 14 hrs in the Hades of Crapenental Airlines, I arrived - better late than never - in Midland, 7 p.m. on Christmas Eve. All of this to turn right around and fly back to Pittsburgh, the Sunday (our 7th Anniversary) following Christmas w/ my darling Brown Eyed Girl.

I finally wrapped up my NE project on Tuesday and the Brown Eyed Girl and I commenced our trek back to Texas on Wednesday (New Years Eve) with great intentions of driving straight through to Nashville, spend a few days Eating, Drinking and being Married.

Well, it’s now Saturday night, and after four days on the road (and yes we did eventually pass (emphasis added) through Nashville), we are a mile or so outside of Hope Arkansas and by the time I finish this intro we will cross into the Lone Star State. I finally got my Brown Eyed Girl out of her Tylenol Sinus Daytime drug induced coma (an Intervention of sorts) and finally have her driving and I am going to read a bit and sleep a bit before I finish this travel log of our adventures and misadventures since Brown Eyed Girl’s last Blog. Brown Eyed Girl’s ready to hit the Blogosphere again and is missing you all. However, it’s her turn to drive, my time to sleep - finally.

So stay tuned for the rest of the story – I will be back.

Crackin' Crab in Kentucky!

Okay. We made it to Louisville, Kentucky. We are now eating at Joe’s Crab Shack on the Ohio River.

And we’re about to head to the Hollywood Casino. Yes, we are. Stupid, huh?

Only if you know (and now, you do) that we’re going to compound our stupidity from last night, when we went to the casino at Wheeling Island, West Virginia. Might I say that Indian Casinos S.U.C.K.??? (Except for that one at Tulsa, where I won some big bucks last year.)

And then, we’re headed to Nashville. From there, Dallas. We’ve extended our trip a couple of days since we’ve not been together in forever and a day, going to take a little mini-vacation. And unfortunately, ThatManILove does love him some blackjack.

But to tell you how good he is about it…last night, when we got in from the smoky casino, he took all of our clothes to the hotel Laundromat and washed and dried them. Is that amazing?
And, as you see in this picture, he’s been busy cracking crab legs for his favorite woman in the whole wide world. Me!!

Oh, yeah. I’m spoiled.

And the world is as it should be.

Catching Up is Hard To Do...

I am so humbled. I got about a million awards and linky linky love from Meg Ryan's Mom and some kind of awesome linky linky love from Stu Pidasso (say it really quick). I can’t believe it.

I can’t believe I’m so flippin’ busy at work and with the Wonder Dog and Wonder Pup that I can’t take time to put all the little award icons on my blog right now. I certainly do not deserve any of those awards, as bad as I am at posting consistently. So, I’m going to say THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH I AM MUCHLY HONORED and let it roll from there. So here’s a big ol’ West Texas Mmmmmmmuuuuuuuuuuahhhhhhhhh from me! And, love and lickies from The Zack Meister and Zanna Montana, to boot! (You know they gotta love that.)

You guys so rock.

Please take the time to go check our their blogs, they really are great, and I love reading them both.

I’ve been a busy girl. ThatManILove is still stuck in Pennsylvania, this is my 8th week to batch it. We had a field trial this weekend, so that kept Zack and Zanna busy and me on the road in my cute camo and snake gaters. Younger Son and a friend went to Lubbock and picked up the jeep we purchased from our friends John and Suzan. When he arrived at the house, he said, “You’d better be careful, that thing feels weeeeeeirrrrrrd. It’s hauling to the right when you put on the brakes.”

He was right. I called ThatManILove and told him the jeep felt squirrely. You know what he said? "Wait until I get home, I'll drive it and check it out." Whattttt? Who knows when he's coming home? And I got me some hunting to do!

I took it to our local mechanic to get it all checked out prior to taking it out hunting. I said, “Gary. Will you check this out, fix the door locks, and drive it? It feels funky, maybe it needs alignment.”

Gary called me yesterday. He said the reason the jeep felt funny was the front left wheel WAS ABOUT TO FREAKIN’ FALL OFF! No joke! So…not only did angels watch over my friends’ daughter Becky (who drove the jeep from Dallas to Lubbock at 80mph) they watched over Younger Son (who drove it from Lubbock to Midland at 65 mph). I am so blessed, I swear. I called ThatManILove in Pennsylvania, called him a twerp for not believing me, and he said, “Get it fixed, baby.” Voila, it is being done as we speak.

And my automatic sprinklers aren’t working, nor are the security lights around the house. It gets dark in Texas early. And I leave the house early. Put the dogs in the outside kennel in the dark, early. With a flashlight. Last night, I made ThatManILove walk me through the drill on the mobile phone. Seems like a breaker is out. So, now, I’ll have to find a reputable electrician to come call me baaaaaaaaaaaaack into the liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

Anyway, that’s part of what I’ve been doing lately. Hopefully, I’ll get back to posting more regularly and sending y’all thrills and chills. I loved everyone's comments on the Redistribution of Wealth post.

And tomorrow’s Wordless Wednesday. Arrrrrrgh! The PRESSURE!! What can I find to post? One of my readers (shout out to Marilyn in Canyon Lake!) sent me an e-mail after last week’s posting.

Hey Janie,

Boy after "Wordless Wednesday" you sure made up for it on Thursday. I surely enjoy your Blog. Cheers!

Well, heckamundo. Y'all know the drill. It’s never boring around here.

Almost Monday!

I finally got through the Friday. Pushed the hair appointment at 1 p.m. right into the doctors appointment at 3 p.m. I had to leave the hair stylist with wet scrunchy hair. The doctor told me I have a virus in my stomach and must take antibiotics for 2 weeks. And that I might have celiac disease, and must have blood work to confirm. How fun is that? Well, whatever, I’ll walk that out. I can deal with that, piece of cake.

I finally got through with hair at 8:30 p.m. Friday night…and it’s still not done, so more highlights on Tuesday.

Saturday, I dealt with car dealers all…day…long, though by e-mail and phone. Buying a new vehicle makes me crazy. (I know, it’s not a far walk.)

Today, Bob and Cherie came by and helped me straighten out the garage as a surprise for MLH. We worked hard, but it looks so much better! Thanks, Bob and Cherie – y’all rock!

Other than that, I really have nothing to say. Zip. Nada. Nothing. Y’all have a blessed week.