West Virginia: Wild and (Not So) Wonderful- Part 2

...We were about to try and get directions from Joe's parents over the phone when I pulled out my own GPS, my Garmin, and tried to see if it would work without being plugged in.

Much to my surprise (and incredible relief), it turned on. I typed in the address of the hotel and in a matter of moments, I held the way in my hands.

Joe hung up with his parents, reassuring them that we were finally good and on our way.

According to the directions we had to make a turn into what looked like a gravel driveway. We weren't quite sure we were heading in the right direction until the GPS continued to show an arrow leading the road.

At this point we were driving around in pitch black, only able to see what the came in front of the headlights. We soon found ourselves back in the wildlife preserve on the hill, except now we were on an even messier broken road. I clutched onto the GPS like the guiding light it was, hoping we didn't get a flat or run out of gas.

Finally we began to descend from the hill and soon we were back in the company of the residential area we had passed before. We kept asking ourselves, where did we go wrong?

We had a ways to go until we finally approached our destination. We came upon the industrial road again, and there, in a matter of yards, was the hotel. We could've seen it from the highway, had we been paying attention.

At long last, at around 9:40 p.m.- almost 5 hours for what should've been a road trip that at most, lasted an hour and a half- we arrived at our hotel. I had never been so happy to see a Hampton Inn in my life.

West Virginia: Wild and (Not So) Wonderful

"It's only three directions," Joe said as I was saying my last goodbyes to Georgia and asking him about his Tom-Tom GPS.

We were just about to leave for our overnight trip to the Hollywood Casino in Charlestown, West Virginia where we would meet-up with Joe's parents for dinner and a bit of gambling.

I was excited. Not just because we would get a night away from the responsibility of dog-ownership but we were heading out on a road trip that would be just far away enough to feel like we were really getting away. Plus it was an added bonus to get to see Joe's parents AND play a few slot machines.

Joe assured me his directions were fine and seeing as how we had once been there before we should have little trouble finding our way. I agreed and around 5:30 we took off.

The trip went smooth until we had to start paying attention to the directions. They were few but confusing. I read off the next one and Joe looked quizzical.

"It's supposed to be a left exit, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes but according to the signs it's on the right," I said trying to decipher his chicken-scratch directions.

In a matter of a few turns we found ourselves driving away from the industrial road and towards a residential area. We conversed while gingerly looking around for the hotel, thinking it would appear in a clearing at some point. The miles clicked away, as did the time, and while Joe was insistent that we were fine since the numbers on the road were going in the right direction I was beginning to get doubtful.

Still we ventured forward, passing storage facilities and beaten up mechanic shops, houses that looked like barns and barns that looked like shacks; now I was starting to get concerned. Joe, the ever optimist, was certain we would find the hotel once we went over this approaching mountain-like hill.

We ascended the hill, grasping onto hairpin turns and hugging the road while leaving room for the occasional passing vehicle. We had a bit of remaining daylight and gasoline going for us, but I was having a hard time keeping my spirits up. I get nervous in the woods, especially in dark, and even more so when I'm lost.

As we paused to make another sharp turn we noticed a sign that read "Wildlife Preserve". Somehow we had accessed restricted grounds and suddenly all I could think was that a bear or mountain lion was waiting to pounce on the car.

With the last shred of daylight quickly dissolving and the inky blackness of the woods beginning to envelope us we finally made it out only to find...nothing. More of the same desolate fields and once-inhabited homes. No sign of a hotel. At long last Joe phoned his folks to let them know our situation.

It was then that I got an idea that would prove to be our savior....

(Part 2 tomorrow)

Service with an Evil Smile

Yes, let me address my own discontent with this frigid weather we are having. It sucks, and it sucks even more because we were taunted with the delightful mild temperatures not but 7 days ago, and now they are calling for snow.

I am quite perturbed at this prospect except for one reason: the possibility of getting out of playing football on Sunday. True by the end (and after my glorious catch) I was having fun. But the idea of playing again...in the cold...and without my fellow female friend/player has me wishing the snow on. I apologize to those willing the opposite to occur.

So I have been absent here because I was catching up on a few tasks I had been putting off (or plain old forgot about). And the theme behind tonight's post is- people who are kind but suck at the same time. You'll get it as you read along...

I was getting something out of the fridge the other day and happened to look up, noticing my appointment card for my dentist. I couldn't believe it had been 6 months already.

It was a blessing and a curse; a blessing because maybe I could set up an appointment to get my tooth sensitivity taken care of once and for all, and a curse because I feared the physical and financial pain to do so.

I went in and was immediately greeted by the receptionist. I then waited a few moments before being called back into the dentist's chair. The hygenist was extremely nice and when she asked if I had had any problems I immediately explained my sensitivity. She said after she was finished with my cleaning she would call the dentist in and see what she could do.

After she was finished my dentist came in I again I launched into a plea about how nothing had been helping and I was really looking for something to permanently help. She offered the idea of getting my teeth bonded, and when she realized she could do it right then, I was whisked away into another room.

Now let me explain, going back to the theme of this post, that everyone in that office is extremely and thoroughly nice and personable. They are great. Which makes it really hard to hate them when it feels like they are employing ancient techniques of dental torture.

The process basically consisted of taking every single painful instance I got from eating something too hot or cold and concentrating it into 4 or 5 minutes of horrifying excruciation. In order to put the material on my teeth she needed to clean and dry the surface. How, you make ask? By blowing chilly air and water directly on my exposed nerve.

I almost wanted to vomit a bit, but the dentist and her assistant were so sweet and kind I didn't want to come off as a bad patient. So I lay there, helpless, and with my mouth agape, praying for the end to come.

Happily it did end rather briefly, but the jury is still out on the sensitivity.

Then later I (thought) I had an appointment to get my oil changed. I had set-up an appointment online and even received confirmation through my email. So I was quite surprised when I had hauled ass to make my appointment only to find out that they had no record of it.

"Um, no, don't see you listed here," the mechanic explained, a wonderfully kind man.

"I don't suppose you'd be able to fit me in anyway?" I asked hopefully.

"Unfortunately I can't," he said smiling. I was disappointed but I couldn't feel that bad when he was making me smile and being so understanding.

So what have we learned? Nice guys finish last. Or they screw you over. But at least they make you smile while doing so.

Football Feign

I am, by no means, an athlete. Never was and never will be. For one, I can't stand the pressure of team sports: knowing I have a particular position I have to play, remembering all the rules, and having to deal with the prospect of letting other people down- it's a recipe for disaster for me.

So I don't really know how my friend Doug talked me into joining his touch-football league. Really, of any sport, why did it have to be football? I can manage OK in basketball, and actually enjoy soccer, but football and I don't get along. And we never have.

I seem to recall verbally groaning when flag football came around during gym class back in middle school. For one, I was almost always picked in the bottom bunch (and if the particularly inept kids were absent that day, I was the definite last man). But my classmates weren't dumb; they knew I wasn't going to be valuable to them. Secondly, the rules of football confused me, and having to try to learn it and play it in a matter of 35 minutes was a chore. Plus, I wasn't a fan of pain or really throwing myself into another body. So the combined humiliation of displaying my athletic inabilities and running around like a confused headless chicken , only to get slammed by a meaty 7th grader, was not something I was excited to experience.

Eventually my hatred cooled to just indifference to the sport, and happily our paths never crossed. Until Doug came along.

With the reassurance of it being more of a social club than serious sport, and the addition of a few fellow girls on the team that I was friends with, I finally agreed. I was able to put it out of my mind until finally the day of the first game arrived, last Sunday.

Joe also joined the team so I was happy that I would know several of the other players. As we walked up to the field where we would play I suddenly got that old pinch in my stomach. The fear couldn't be quelled any longer and suddenly I was panicking.

Luckily my girlfriend Carly was there, also describing her fears and anxieties, so I felt I was in good company.

When the ref called us in and explained the rules in a split second I made the mental decision I would simply run around chasing the people in orange and pray to God no one threw me the ball. This plan was short lived when the ref would call "something something GENDER" which I came to realize meant just the GIRLS could do the play, and with just me and Carly, chances were at one point the ball would be tossed my way.

Thankfully this didn't occur too often. Carly was a good sport and took the brunt of most of the gender passes. However at one point, one of my teammates finally decided to give me a try. I looked to get myself free (which, since I was gaining the reputation as being "not a a threat", no one ever really bothered to cover me). He tossed me the ball, nice and easy, and...a catch! I caught the damn thing! I was so thrilled I actually exclaimed, "I CAUGHT it!"

My excitement was short lived when the ref blew his whistle and explained the pass was no good...since I had caught it BEHIND the line of scrimmage.

Still, I couldn't help but be slightly proud. It was maybe the first time I had caught a football during an actual game. I should savor the moment- with only 7 or 8 more games, chances are it may not happen again!

Walk Down Memory Games

Thanks to my little brother I am helplessly and hopelessly hooked on an online sensation known as "The Angry Video Game Nerd."

He first showed it to Joe and me on a recent visit.

"Hey, you guys ever hear of 'Angry Nintendo Nerd?'" he asked us excitedly. We shook our heads no and I couldn't help but roll my eyes a bit. I mean, how entertaining could THAT be? Some dorky guy explaining the ins and outs of games I'd never even heard of. The answer is- extremely entertaining. So much so in fact, that as soon as we got home Joe and I began uploading episode after episode, from Who Framed Roger Rabbit to Castlevania.

It is a surprisingly entertaining show, despite the fact that I'm pretty clueless to video games. But not completely, as I found myself walking alongside him with his reviews of games that I could recall, paying attention to the memories they invoked from my past, as opposed to just the game play. I think that's partly what I enjoy the most about the show- the fact that with each review or tour of a game I find myself back as a little kid in my pj's, watching my sister or cousin or whoever playing the game and excitedly holding my breath as they battled the final boss.

So I though I'd take a turn and take you back to the past- my past- with video games.

1.) Super Mario Bros.- One of the earliest games I recall, but still one of the best by many standards other than my own. I can clearly recall watching my sister playing this game as if it was a reality TV show. These weren't just characters. She was IN the game, just in the shape of a bunch of red and brown pixels. I remember being enthralled watching her finally get to the last boss- Bowser, and getting the best feeling when he was defeated and Princess Peach (or Toadstool, I never knew if there was a difference) was finally safe.

2.) Legend of Zelda- What can I say about this game? Though our Nintendo library was small it always stood out- primarily because it was gold. But it deserved to be; a game with such infectious music and epic plot should be given a carat rating. And I never even cared about playing- it was always about just sitting back and cheering on whoever was, as if Zelda's life really was held in the balance. Plus the idea of the Triforce, the plethora of enemies and hidden passageways; it was hard to not be excited. And it still is, all these years later.

3.) Super Mario Brothers 2 and 3- I recall a sunny morning and early afternoon, in the summer I believe. My sister and my cousin Evan were furiously trying to beat the latest Mario game while my other sister and I watched like excited spectators. It wasn't just the two of them playing- it was a battle that we all felt. We shouted and screamed at the screen whenever an enemy popped out of nowhere and exclaimed with delight when they made it past another level. I can't recall for sure which one it was but I am pretty sure that they DID beat that game that day.

4.) Ms. Pac Man- One of the few games I actually would play and only because it was in the mini arcade inside the dentists office. Well, that and Centipede. Though I still get the taste of fluoride in my mouth whenever I think about it, Ms. Pacman used to vex the hell out of me because I never seemed to get very far. Still, it remains in a place in my heart forever.

5.) Tetris- Another game that sits in sparse category of "Games I Played" was Tetris. I think it was because you couldn't really "die" because you were basically just a bunch of blocks. But again, another great game with a great soundtrack that could penetrate your brain as badly as the game would. At times if I was bored I would begin to really see things in terms of space and blocks, imagining what shapes I'd put where. At church, when I should've been listening to a sermon or something, I'd be putting the tiles on the floor together, finding the L shape to fit in perfectly over the square block. I once got to level 13 on the Gameboy version- a feat I daresay I could never and will never duplicate.

Hope you enjoyed this tour down memory lane. I'll try to post tomorrow, but it being St. Patty's I doubt I'll have the time (or sobriety) to do so, so have a good one everybody!

Phony

A few days ago I noticed my phone was acting wonky. Every time I tried to make an outgoing call, an error message would pop up telling me my "SmartChip registration failed", whatever that meant.

I finally checked my facebook messages and there was one from my sister, suggesting that perhaps it was time I finally "cut the phone cord" and got on my own plan. Yes, it is pathetic, I know- a nearly 27 year old STILL attached to her parents' phone plan. But it's only $10 a month! And it's not as if I'm walking around with a freakin smartphone....though I am craving one now...

So I replied with a slightly embittered message, only to discover in her next message that actually, someone had hacked into my parents' account and activated three iPhones all on our numbers (hence why my phone wasn't getting any service). Using Joe's phone I was finally able to talk to my parents and my mom explained that I needed to go into the AT&T store ASA&P so that they could remove the false iPhone from my account and reactivate my phone. Go into the store....gulp.

I've heard enough horror stories about people trying to explain screw-ups to busy and uninterested salespeople and waiting ungodly numbers of hours just to get things straightened out (it just so happens this is the precise thing that happened to MY parents when they went in). Plus, I feared the ever-popular excuse used by some phone salespeople, "Oh, we can't take care of that HERE. You need to try a corporate store...", so needless to say I was looking as forward to this as I am about getting a cavity filled.

Still, I knew that was the only way to get it all squared away, so after work I hopped into my car and headed for the mall, the nearest corporate store I could think of.

I walked in and noticed the place buzzing with people. Correction- buzzing with customers. For the 15 or 20 people in the store there were 4 or 5 employees, all of which seemed focused and busy. There was a customer service desk with a guy on the phone, and though it didn't look like he was wrapping up anytime soon, I took the opportunity to practice what I was going to say a few more times in my head.

When he finally was finished with the customer he walked away and headed over to a sign-in sheet. Seriously? A sign-in sheet? They aren't even f-ing around, they're really trying to treat these places like doctor offices.

He called out a few names and when he realized they had either left (or weren't paying attention) he offered to help me. I began by smiling, easing into what I expected to be a long and arduous explanation, and apologizing, when he kindly cut my off and said, "I'm actually not even a customer service person, I'm just a salesperson."

Grrreat.

He asked me what my mom's pass code was, and when I replied with a blank stare, all he could do was hand me a new SIM card and told me to call customer service for help.

Call customer service. CALL customer service. Let's let that logic marinate, shall we? How am I supposed to CALL someone when my PHONE ISN'T WORKING!

I mean I was able to finally just use Joe's to clear everything up and get my phone working again, but that logic still floors me. It's like when Comcast cuts off your Internet and while you are on hold for the 3rd hour the recorded message keeps saying you can receive help by going online...what??

Things I Think Count For Exercise

*I'm trying this out here first so that maybe I can peddle it into an article for the Yahoo Network. Let me know what you think (or if you have any suggestions, please gimme a shout out).

Like I think everyone in the world, I constantly battle the pressure to stay healthy by getting the necessary amount of exercise one needs every day. Also like everyone else, unfortunately, time is usually a factor. But what I've read and discovered on my own is that sometimes the oddest things we do everyday can actually be considered exercise- at least in my eyes. Read on for my tips and please let me know any tricks you have learned.

1.) Using the Stairs- When I'm at work, spending numerous hours at my computer, rarely getting up or moving around, I figure I am entitled to a 15-20 minute walking break. And when the weather is lousy (or my usual walking buddy is absent) I still like to get at least some exercise by hiking up and down the stairwell. It's virtually empty and I can actually get a pretty good sweat going in a few minutes by taking steps two-at-a-time.

2.) Playing with the Dog- One of the benefits of having a yard AND a dog is that I can "work out" without even leaving my property. I'll usually toss the ball and then race the dog to catch it. If I beat her I toss the ball again. If she beats me I lunge after the ball everytime she runs past. Plus I get a whole other muscle group involved when I have to carefully but quickly dodge her little "presents" around the yard. It's surprisingly fun, and constantly sprinting, throwing, and lunging actually gets my heart pumping.

3.) Parking Far Away- This one could be applied anytime, depending on how strapped you are for time, the weather (and how many bags you have to carry back out). But I like purposely parking farther away because you do get those extra few steps added to your exercise for the day. Nice bonus-- on a crowded day you will have less trouble parking and exiting, since most people want to get as close as they can to the store.

4.) Household Chores- Laundry and Cleaning- I really never thought this would count, but I think it should, and according to things I've read, sometimes it legitimately does. Hauling armloads of laundry down a few flights of stairs, crouching to stuff things into a washer and dryer, then pulling it back out and bringing everything back upstairs- you can definitely burn some calories. Mopping, vacuuming, and scrubbing also give your back and arms a good workout. I guess that's why they call it "housework"!

5.) Playing Baseball and Boxing on the Wii Sport- I love our Wii and one of the reasons why is it basically comes with a workout regime- the Wii Sports. Sure it's fun anyway, but when you actually want to blast some energy and feel a burn in your arms for days, try the fitness mode of the baseball and boxing. Trust me; it's exhausting and exhilarating at the same time.

It's true I am not a licensed health advisor and I may have no clinical proof to back up what I say. All I know is that by doing some or all of these things, I am able to break a sweat and lose my breath- two signs I'm pretty sure are all the proof I need. And the best part is that these are things I would do anyway.

Now if only there was a way to incorporate sitting on my butt as exercise...

Drinking and Dying

Is it possible to need two days to recover from a hangover? My stomach and head have still been giving me grief all day- although the headache could be from staring at a computer screen for 8 hours straight...the stomach, meh, my stomach always hurts.

The thing is, I didn't even do anything that crazy that would MERIT a two-day recovery period. I drank beer. Just BEER. Sure, there were a few cups fulls, but c'mon, I can't even drink plain old beer without paying for it the next day?? What kind of rip-off is that?

It's especially infuriating when I see both real people and the television people (or television people on shows on Netflix on Demand that I've never seen before, and therefore, am not cheating on my television embargo) being able to guzzle beer whenever and however, and seemingly recover instantaneously. The only time I was remotely able to do that was in college, and that was because my liver was still pretty show-room new and I was hanging out with foreigners who taught me to drink like a cross country runner instead of a sprinter.

Now, it seems I have a glass of wine and my stomach and head are messed up all the next day. I am whining I know, I'll try to stop.

In case you couldn't tell, I had no idea what to write about tonight but I'd like to try and write for all four days. Unfortunately for you, the reader, it could make for some tedious reading. Lemme see if I can drudge up some good embarrassment for you...oh I got it.

Don't you hate it when someone holds the door for you when you don't want them to? We have to entrances to my office: the main one and the side one. The side one is the one I always go thru b/c it's closest to my desk. But sometimes if someone is walking ahead of me back to the office they will hold the door for me thru the main entrance. I usually just comply, even after I try and show them that I have my access card AND that I'm going the other way.

Well, the other day I was in a precarious situation- I had a guy from my office in front of me walking to the door and two guys behind me. As I'm sure you already know, I like to be as invisible at work as possible (or at least until I know for sure I am liked). The guy ahead opened the door and held it for me, thinking I was going in that way. I fumbled again for access key and muttered something like "I...uhh, I've...got...ma..key".

I thought he understood my signals and so I was just letting the door closed. Suddenly the guys behind me (who are notoriously sarcastic but cool) yelled, "Hey! What're you doin, not holding the door for us?"

The guy who had been in front simply said, "I was holding it for her," as I quickly ducked down the long hallway. When I heard him alluding to me, I was still just as flustered, just louder.

"OH! I've...got..my...this...I'm...good. Th-th-thanks, s-s-sorry!"

It was another one of those great moments where it probably wasn't a big deal, but internally I was tightening the noose. Oh well.

Hope that got a chuckle from ya. See ya tomorrow!

Cheese, please?

As I think you know, I'm what you call a finicky eater- the list is long of foods I don't like, but I go one step further by disliking cold foods. The worst of these are meats and cheeses. I like meat. I like cheese. But either one cold is usually a deal breaker for me (as you can imagine I'm no breeze when it comes to lunch).

While I have given up hope on eating meat cold (just can't get past the texture and smell), I am trying to stretch my appetite borders by exploring more cheeses. There was a cheese ball that Joe's mom made for the holidays that was stupendous. Everyone else dove right in right away, and I, feeling brave after a glass of wine, decided to sample as well. It was good- very good- and cold. I was pleased with myself and proceeded to make that same cheese ball at a party of our own.

Still, because I'm such a novice with cheese I still have a hard time guessing what I like and don't. I tend to think it's a taste that requires some time to acquire, so I'm trying avenues here and there, when time and money permits. I also always envied the people who could enjoy wine and cheese at the same time, practically making a meal on just that. S0 one cheese I am trying with that, and currently loving, is brie.

I tried brie for the first time in a home ec class in high school, when our teacher placed slivers on French baguettes and popped them in the oven. I remember the smell and taste being otherworldly, so I figured I had that one down.

Then a while ago I was visiting my friend Kel, and as we were talking she put out some brie slices and crackers for us to snack on. I took one piece just to be polite, and then found myself trying to leave her at least one piece, just to be polite- I could've eaten the whole log.

So on a trip to Trader Joe's I spied what looked like the same brie log, and it wasn't too expensive. Once I had bought some crackers too, I set about having my own cheese and crackers while cooking dinner. I loved it; Joe, on the other hand, wasn't thrilled.

I kept it up until the week rolled on, and it was a few days before I would have my brie again. Now, when I say I am an amateur cheese-eater, I mean it. I looked to see if there was mold growing yet and when I didn't I sliced myself a few slivers.

Joe walked in and saw what I was doing.

"Is that that same cheese?" he asked. I told him yes, and he replied.

"Uh, hun, that cheese is probably bad. It's been open for over a week."

I told him, naah, I think it tasted fine.

I'm not sure if it was his suggestion or if it really had gone bad, but suddenly I began to lose the taste. I didn't get sick or anything, but all of a sudden it tasted as if I was eating pure butter slabs. There was a bitter and salty aftertaste that seemed to linger. I swallowed that last of my slivers and tossed the tiny remainder away.

I'm not saying I'm going to give up on cheese. On the contrary, I intend to head over to TJ's and try something new. And when I wonder if the cheese I am eating is bad, I'll know what to do: compare it to a stick of Land O' Lakes.

Whiney Wednesday

Despite the fact that I had a fairly good day, I still feel like bitching a little bit. Not over anything big, but maybe you can relate to some of these little annoyances...

1.) My toenail keeps snagging the inside of my sock, even though I gave myself a pedicure less than a week ago! It's probably not even the nail, it's probably some dry skin. And speaking of gross...

2.) I have a scab on the inside of my nose that is so annoying and SO painful. Yet my nose keeps running, so I blow my nose, and then I see blood. How does my nose run AND be super dry at the same time!?!? It doesn't make sense. It's this weather...and speaking of weather.

3.) I know everyone says "March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb", but I always sorta thought that had something to do with it just being rainy and then sunny, not temptingly warm and blissful and then bitter cold. The high tomorrow is going to 38...38! In March!! Ugh, get warm already...my spring clothes are waiting.

4.) (Enough of the chain segues..) There is a woman who walks to work everyday and I always pass her when I'm driving. I used to do the polite head nod and smile but I have a weird history with this woman.

Back in the summer when we first moved in she had befriended me and often chatted about dog-related stuff. One day she mentioned how she thought her dogs and Georgia should have a play date (and if you heard this story already feel free to move on), and when I agreed I was immediately regretting my decision. Her one dog snapped at the other so bad it's ear began to bleed.

I was trying to suggest another time but she seemed determined and eventually just dropped both dogs into the yard. I was still tense but they played ok (if not a little rough and bullish). Anyway, they stayed for a while until finally she left and Joe and I agreed never to allow her over again.

Since then I still see her walking by but I am so terrified of another "play date" I thought it best just to cut that friendship off, so I try to find ways to avoid eye contact. Sometimes I just NEED to change the radio station at that exact moment, other times I need to reach for my phone for some reason, and still other times I just make a dazed or concerned face, pretending to ponder over life's mysteries or just trying to really really concentrate on driving.

Anyway, those are my current annoyances, but other than that, life's not too bad. How bout you? Leave a comment, won't we?