That one time I had to go to driving school...Part 1

Those who know me probably would call me a cautious driver and definitely not a speed demon. When forced to finally get my learner's permit, I was the kid who got an A+ in Driver's Ed and was nicknamed "Binoculars" by my teacher -- if I could see the faintest sign of a car, I wasn't turning until it had passed. Driving wasn't my thing, but if I HAD to do it, you could bet I was going to do it with extra caution.

The cars bestowed upon me by my parents further perpetuated my slow and steady driving habits, and when I went off to college in my 4-cylinder Geo Metro, I knew I wouldn't be breaking any land speed records. In all honesty, without a strong tail wind, it was hard enough getting up to highway speeds let alone exceeding them.

Sadly, my twenty-first year of life wasn't my greatest year behind the wheel. In November, shortly after Thanksgiving break, I got pulled over for the first time. I was driving back to my campus apartment after a long evening shift at Hy Vee, and I was going 35 down the side street, which I believed to be the speed limit and had for the 3 years I'd lived in Sioux Center. But, apparently, it was a residential area and, while not posted, the speed limit was 25.

My first encounter with a cop resulted in a ticket and a healthy dose of embarrassment since he pulled me over in my apartment parking lot and 90 percent of my friends and acquaintances walked by while I was sitting in the police cruiser. People who talked about these things called "warnings" we're immediately dubbed liars. If I couldn't get out of that ticket with a PERFECTLY clean driving record, then I was positive warnings didn't exist.

Fast forward to January. I am driving back to campus after winter break. I'm going downhill, my windshield is completely covered in slushy grossness from a passing semi, and I am desperately trying to figure out why my windshield washer fluid won't come out. I pass a cop going the other direction. He turns around and comes after me. I have NO idea how fast I was going, but the cop says it was 65. Who's he kidding!?! I'm driving a GEO METRO. No warning, very few words exchanged, and I pull away with ticket number 2...in less than 2 months. Crap.

Now, it's summer. June to be exact. I'm taking a trek to Storm Lake for a little family reunion with the boyfriend's family, and I'm feeling pretty good. I'm a year older, a year wiser. It's been a few months since my last encounter with law enforcement, and I'm being hyper-aware of my speed.

I'm cruising through Alta, Iowa, and slowing down to make sure I don't miss the turn I'm looking for. In fact, I am going 40 in what I believe to be a 45 mph speed zone. BUT, as I reached the edge of the half-mile long town and passed the 55 mph sign, I started to accelerate only to see flashing lights in my review mirror. Seriously!?!

I pull over fully expecting to see the police car go past me and after some other law crushing citizen. But no such luck. The speed limit was actually 35 through town, and I had missed the speed limit sign while looking for street signs indicating my turn off. I tried to explain that I'd never been to Alta and was trying not to get lost and simply missed the sign indicating the drop in speed. And, for a second, I had hope. It really looked like he wanted to let me off.

But then he asked for my license and registration, walked back to his car, and came back a few minutes later with a freshly penned ticket. Gross.

He explained that while he sympathized with my situation, he couldn't ignore my driving record. He hoped this final ticket would be the wake-up call to get my habitual speeding under control.

While he chided me, I pretended to be contrite and show an appropriate level of disappointment and self-deprecation. Deep down, I was hoping the pain and sadness in my eyes would convince him to tear up the ticket and send my on my merry way...I was also contemplating my punishment if I forcefully opened my car door into his shins and drove off a-la Bonnie and Clyde while he hopped around in pain. Since I'm not currently writing this from prison, I clearly opted to remain calm and take my verbal whippings.

However, by this time, I was convinced the system was out to get me...but I would pay this fine, as I had the other two before, and seriously consider hiring a professional chauffeur. Civic responsibility, blah, blah, blah, at least I live in America and won't face the death penalty for speeding, blah, blah, blah.

THEN, in October (more than 4 months AFTER my last ticket), while I was completing my final semester of college in the great city of Chicago. I got a little letter that replaced my civic responsibility attitude with one of righteous indignation. I was being summoned to driving school...in two weeks...in western Iowa...and I had to pay $75 for the class.

I did what any self-respecting, grown-up, independent college kid would do. I called my mom. See, I was LIVING in Chicago until December, without a car, and no way to get back to Iowa for driving school.

Mom talked me off the ledge and encouraged me to see if there was any way to reschedule and attend a different class. Thankfully, the Iowa DOT is an understanding lot and would allow me to reschedule, for the low, LOW fee of $50.

Sweet. Now, I get to pay $125 for 8 hours of driving school, and icing on the cake, the next available date, which I MUST take unless I'd like to lose my license, is a Saturday in December -- the same day my boyfriend, who would become the Hubbs, is scheduled to graduate with his associate's degree.

Let's just say, I wasn't going to win any awards for driver OR girlfriend of the year...BUT, what I didn't know then, that I know now, is this experience would provide some pretty hilarious stories from driving school.

Come back this weekend, dear readers, for driving school, part 2. It's a gem and far to much to document in one single post... clearly I've been bit by the blogging bug again.

Who is this person?!?

Who is this person?!?

My gym membership is limited and only allows me to go in on Sundays, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I woke up today – a non-gym day – and I WANT to work out.

WHAT!?! This is so NOT like me.

When I was a kid, my parents had to force me to go outside and play, and my version of "playing outside" was to sit on the porch reading a book while my brother rode his bike or threw his football around.

All through grade school, junior high and high school, Phys Ed class was my LEAST favorite point of the week. When we did fitness tests, I knew I had to complete my mile run/walk in at least 15 minutes, and I would cross the finish line at 14:59. My philosophy: Least amount of physical effort required. It's just PE and exercise is LAME-SAUCE. Plus, I don't think PE went toward or against your GPA…

Now, as an adult, I still have a recurring dream that I'm back in high school, have essentially skipped Phys Ed for an entire semester and am in jeopardy of not graduating because I'm failing Phys Ed. (I also have a similar dream where Phys Ed is replaced with Advanced Math…childhood trauma really sticks with a person).

But to be honest, this failing Phys Ed dream isn't too far off from reality. I was a Freshman and had missed the two weeks of school (hospital stay due to Mono) and was still recovering, so I had to sit out of Phys Ed class for a solid month.

The policy was if you missed a class you had to write a report on a sport of your choosing. Now, a normal person would use the time they were sitting out of PE class to write said reports, but I put it off. You technically had until the end of the semester to turn in all your reports so I used my downtime on the gymnasium bleachers to work on homework that had stricter deadlines.

Fast forward to a few weeks left in the semester. I was shopping at the local Pamida with my mom (a former high school teacher who was still very acquainted with the high school staff), when the Phys Ed teacher walked up and shared that I was getting a D in Phys Ed and needed to turn in my SIX OUTSTANDING REPORTS or else.

Pretty sure my mom chewed my butt the entire 15 mile car ride home while I complained about it not being fair because I couldn't help that I had Mono. But fair or not, I spent the rest of my weekend writing Phys Ed reports, and I passed Phys Ed with a more respectable B.

However, that NEAR fail didn't change my ideas on the whole PE front. While the teachers rambled on about fitness, blah, blah, lifetime of activity, blah, blah, healthy, blah … I was thinking: Phys Ed is dumb … I hate getting sweaty in the middle of the school day … Public showers suck … If lifetime fitness is so important, why are all my Phys Ed teachers a little heavy? … Shoot. I can't remember my locker combination. What if I have to wear my smelly, nasty PE clothes ALL DAY LONG?!?

However, in the last 5 years, I've gone from my lightest adult weight to my heaviest adult weight, and maybe an occasional game of capture the flag or prison ball WOULD'VE made all the difference in the world.

So here's to you Mr. Swivel, Swivel, Jump (J. High PE teacher who taught us the Macarena) … sorry I judged you when you when you wore your tight, red polyester shorts. Your confidence (or complete lack of fashion sense) made them look good.

Vacation Update: Compliment Challenge

At the start of our vacation, the BFF and I decided we should try to spread a some of our vacation happiness to those we encountered on our trip -- especially those who were serving us in some capacity.

The rules started off pretty simply ... Provide a unique compliment (no reusing) to as many people as possible and address them by name (as most of the service personal we encountered were wearing name tags).

I started off pretty strong with my first compliment directed at the gate attendant working C8 at the Atlanta airport. She had a rich voice as she called boarding zones, so naturally, as she scanned my boarding pass, I said, "Michelle, you have a voice for radio." My off-hand compliment solicited a pretty genuine smile from Michelle and a few laughs from the passengers behind me in line...and I boarded the plane feeling pretty darn proud of myself for my originality and kindness.

But then we went to dinner at P.F. Chang's in Ft. Lauderdale during our first night of vacation...and the Compliment Challenge evolved into the Complicated Compliment Challenge as the rule list grew exponentially:

1) Provide a unique compliment to as many people as possible and address them by name
3) Extra points if you can use alliteration (the longer the alliteration the higher the points) (i.e. Anna was always amazing and attentive at an attractive autobahn....one caveat: the longer the alteration, the less sense the compliment made)
4) Extra points if you can use a homophone -- words that sound alike but with different meanings and spellings. (i.e. for the man operating the wave-rider surf simulator, "Bodacious Brad, your brawny bod kept me far from bored during my first boogie board experience."...see how I worked in some alliteration, too. DOUBLE POINTS!!!)

Most of these rules evolved due to lack of sleep and the punchy, slap-stick behavior it prompted. For a good portion of dinner, we talked primarily in alliteration. Apparently, that's what happens when you put two sleep deprived writers together...if given enough time, things just kind of spiral and words like alliteration, homophone and homonym get thrown about until you've completely gone of course but don't recognize that you've taken a detour.

So when we paid our bill at P.F. Chang's, we wrote a compliment on receipt with the tip for our server Amanda, and we upped the ante by working in some alliteration.

Amanda, you're amazingly awesome! :)

Fabulous. We were ROCKING the Compliment Challenge.

Then we walked back to the hotel. Giggling and acting like fools because we were WAY PAST tired. And, the valet desk guy said, "Have a great night ladies." And, rather than let it ride with a simple, "Thanks," I decided to get in another alliteration compliment.

I was too far away to read his name tag so, I respond, "Hey, thanks. What's your name?" He responded, "Kevin." To which I go, "Well, Kevin..." Long dramatic pause while I rack my brain for any adjectives that start with the letter K. "...you've been...." Another pause while I futilely try to convince my overly tired brain to come up with even an adjective that starts with a K sound. No dice. "you've been faaaannnntasic."

Yep. Compliment Challenge fail. Best of all, as we rode up the elevator the BFF and I came up with an alliterative compliment that I would've been proud to share with Kevin..."Keep killin' it, Kev!!!" Now, I can't figure out why my brain couldn't have pulled that beaut out 10 minutes earlier, but I stashed it away on the chance we'd encounter another K named person on our trip.And, we vowed to do better the next day.

Then we got on the cruise ship and encountered "Iujlia." After a terrified look at one another that said, "I have NO idea how to pronounce that," we realized it might be best to keep the Compliment Challenge simple so we didn't have to ask every international service person on our cruise ship how to pronounce their names before we could compliment them.

So, that's what we did, and we still had fun genuinely thanking and complimenting those we interacted with. And, I think it was universally appreciated.

My challenge to you all...try the Compliment Challenge this week with those you encounter. You might be surprised how well it's received and how much it brightens your week in addition to the weeks of those you compliment (by name when possible).

If you want to work in some of the extra points methods, my one piece of advice is to tread lightly. I'd hate for you to have your very own Kevin moment...because it's awkward...and seems like you're completely hitting on said individual. Sorry, Kev. I hope you still got a smile at my expense.

Vacation Update: Stalker Gawker

Our cruise vacation was a trip for two, but come dinner time. My BFF and I often felt like we had a third member in our dining party -- Stalker Gawker.

You see, Stalker Gawker was a man who was technically traveling with who we assumed to be his wife; however, his mind and eyes seemed to be pretty focused on our table. And, honestly, I can't blame the guy. We were looking tip-top, enjoying our food and conversation, laughing with abandon, and making friends with our wait staff. I'd have given him a free glance or two per dining hour without a second thought. Let's face it, we were having a good time, and who wouldn't want to be a part of that?

BUT, with as much as he was staring, I was concerned his food wouldn't make it in his mouth because he was SOOO completely focused on us. To save his stylish plaid shirts from unsightly food stains, I seriously considered pulling up a chair for Stalker Gawker.

With our normal seating arrangement, my BFF had her back to Stalker Gawker, and therefore got a lot of me saying, "SERIOUSLY?!? Again with the staring!" However, on the final day of our cruise, I decided it was my civic duty to spread the love and give the BFF a taste of unbridled admiration care of the one and only Stalker Gawker. Through our little experiment, we discovered Stalker Gawker wasn't just partial to awkwardly watching me eat ... he had plenty of stares for the BFF, too. And, like any good blogger, I thought it only appropriate that we document our third travel buddy so I'd have a visual when I shared the story with my dear readers.

So, I give you exhibit A, Stalker Gawker caught in the act:

Yep, we're sly ladies. The BFF pretended to be capturing my dinner smile and some of the beautiful dining room, and as she captured the shot, Stalker Gawker glanced our way. PERFECT TIMING!!! This image was essentially my view as I dinned for the entire week.

So, PSA to all you "people watchers," (I'm totally one of them): Limit your staring and/or spread the wealth so it's not QUITE as obvious that you've completely singled out a person or two. You'd hate to be the next profiled Stalker Gawker on some strangers blog. AND, if you happen to recognize our dear Stalker Gawker, encourage him to focus just a tad more on the company he's with rather than the ladies at a neighboring table.

More BFF cruise vacation photos and stories to follow ... so get ready for that business.

My Little Kid Excited Face

I just returned from a FABULOUS cruise vacation with my BFF and if I had to sum it up the first thing that comes to mind is Little Kid Excited Face (LKEF).

You see, when I'm REALLY enjoying myself, my LKEF comes out in full force. AND THERE WAS A TON OF LKEF ON THIS VACATION.

Here's a sampling (note: if you read the captions as if they're typed in all caps, you get more of the LKEF effect):

In Florida outside our hotel...look it's a palm tree. I promise I've seen one before,
but by the look on my LKEF and my Vanna White pose, you'd think it's my first time.

Hey, hey. I'm swimming in the ocean off of Haiti. No, again, not my first time
 in the ocean...but with the LKEF I can see how someone might think that. 

They left these drums unattended on our Haitian cultural tour...
naturally, I'm going to pose with them...and bust out the LKEF.

Replicating my first day of school photo. Why?
Because I'm wearing my pack-back. Duh. LKEF coming out a little.

Check out the LKEF ... I'm being "team captain" for our section during a
game show style challenge on the ship. WOOT WOOT team 7!!!

Slightly obscured, but you can still see the gaping mouth LKEF smile
as I get ready to para-sail. This actually was my first time.

And, the most prominent LKEF of them all. I'm dancing with a DOLPHIN.
Pretty sure my dentist could check for cavities just by looking at this photo.

I hope you've enjoyed this vacation recap and introduction to my LKEF. More vacation stories will be posted in the near future...so get EXCITED!!! Yep, pretty sure all you readers just busted out your very own LKEF. :)

I realize I've been AWOL ... here's why

So, I've been AWOL from the blog. Sorry to those who've missed me...all 3 of you. :) A few things have been keeping me busy:

1)      Being a gym rat. We got a gym membership, and I'm using it pretty regularly. Regularly enough that the person at the front desk recognizes me. I've NEVER had this kind of relationship with a gym…and I think I could grow to like it.
2)      Cleaning and Crafting. I had some beautiful ladies over to make cards at the start of February, which required me to bring some order to my home. Now my house – especially the craft room/office – is more orderly than it has been in months. Also, it was fabulously fun to talk and spend time together with amazing women who make me smile. I hope they enjoyed the time as much as I did.
3)      Desk shopping. So my BFF is creating a home office and needed some furniture. We spent most of a Saturday going to multiple (7 ish) stores looking for the perfect desk. She didn't end up getting the desk that day, but we found a super cute and cheap end table that she's going to paint a brilliant color…the DIYer in me wanted to steal it for my home.
4)      Face time with the Hubbs! He recently changed shifts at work, and while he's home at night while I sleep, he gets home after I fall asleep and is still asleep when I leave for work in the morning. As a result, our time when we're both awake is pretty much limited to his weekday off and the alternate weekends he gets off. BUT, he had the 2nd weekend in February off and we spent 3 whole days being obnoxiously lovey dovey and inseparable. It was charming and the weekend went FAR too quickly.
5)      More crafting and friend time. Sitting down and making cards after a long hiatus has gotten me pretty stinking excited about making cards. So I went to my friend's house and we made more…while Hubbs and her hubby played poker. They both won money and I had a little stack of homemade cards at the end of the night. I call that a win.
6)      Making a BUDGET. Yep. The big ol' B word. It's been a time suck, but I'm kind of obsessed with it and will kick any unsuspecting expense in the keister if it messes up my beautiful, wonderful, zero-balance budget.

So, back to this beautiful budget. When Hubbs and I got married 3.5 years ago, we were gifted a copy of The Total Money Makeover by Dave Ramsey with a note from my uncle and aunt that read, "This is most valuable gift we got on our wedding day, and now we give it to all newlyweds. Hope you enjoy it as much as we have." 

So, I read the first few chapters, thought it made sense, and then I put it on a bookshelf and told the Hubbs we HAD to switch to a cash only budget. Play this cash only budget conversation on repeat for the next 3.5 years (add in a few budgeting spreadsheets, look how much YOU spent this month conversations, and wouldn't it be great to have no payments dream conversations) and you reach the present. BUT, this time, I plugged the numbers in a new budget software, shared it with Hubbs (face-to-face with no distractions), and WE ARE BOTH ON BOARD WITH A SERIOUS BUDGET. 

Now, we're not as GAZELLE intense as Dave Ramsey suggests. We won't be picking up additional jobs or switching to rice and beans only diet, but we're going to stop allowing stupid gas station and Target whim purchases to keep us from eliminating our debt quickly and building wealth early so we can enjoy our money and make decisions WITHOUT being limited by our financial obligations. So, thanks to this budget, I'm pretty confident we'll be able to say hello to early retirement if we so desire...and who doesn't COMPLETELY desire that dream.

Third grade put downs and other life lessons

I grew up in a home where there was a lot of laughter — usually at my mother or my expense, and usually after a zinger delivered by my too-smart-for-his-own-good older brother.

This upbringing helped me develop some life skills that are pretty important:

1)      Know how to be the butt of a joke with grace — I often am the one making myself the staring character.

2)      ALWAYS carry a comeback close at hand.

Now, in the moment, I didn't always love being the punch line. And I threw out my fair share of, "Well…you're a meanie head," comebacks. If you ask my hubby, he'll tell you that my defense in most compromising situations is STILL to throw out some old school name calling that ends in "head" or "face" — meanie head, jerk face, dork face, butt face, stupid head, etc.

Don't you feel insulted just from reading this list?

Now, I don't condone name calling. But, these are some gems so feel free to use them at your discretion. At minimum, they're AWESOME argument diffusers. Who can take a grown up seriously when they're busting out third grade put downs?

I feel like I need to add to my list of "life skills"...

3)      Add "head" or "face" to all name calling. It really ups the ante OR completely destroys your street cred...but life is a gamble so I really think the risk it worthwhile.

So, I guess the moral of the story is to appreciate the things in life that annoy you in the present (like a stupid head older brother) because they'll make you better in the future...and don't forget the lessons you learned in childhood. You never know when a third grade put down will come in handy.