A Special Sunday Story

Yesterday morning I was in the mood for a kolache. If you're not Czech, or you don't live in this area, you may have no idea what a kolache is. I didn't until I moved here. Kolaches are a Czech pastry. They can have fruit, cheese, or meat filling. Basically, it's a fancy Czech term for either a danish, donut, or pig in a blanket. That's the best way I can describe them to someone who's never had one. I like the kind with the little mini sausages and cheese in them. They are delicious. This picture does not do them justice.

So. It's Saturday morning and I want some. There's a little bakery down the street that sells them, so I get in the car and go. This is kind of a boring story so far, isn't it? I'm sorry. It's about to get better. I hope.

I'm in my neighborhood. I'm driving the speed limit. I'm wearing my seat belt. My registration and inspection are both current. I'm not texting. And I'm sober as a judge. I come to a 4 way stop, and I'm turning right. There is a cop in the on the road I'm about to turn on, also at the stop sign. I signal my turn and wait for him to go. He was there first. He starts to go, and as I  make my turn, I see him do a quick U-turn and turn his lights on.

Oh for crying out loud.

I rack my brains and try to figure out what in Moses' name I could possibly be getting pulled over for. As I said, I was obeying all the rules of the road. And I know I'd come to a complete stop at the stop sign because he had the right of way. I seriously have no idea at this point what the hell this cop could want with me. Because of this, I'm not really nervous. Now, I've been pulled over before when I know I've been speeding, or ran a red light, or what have you, and I've been shaking, nervous, on the verge of tears. But this time, I couldn't see that I had done anything wrong, and furthermore, the cops in my little community are (pardon my French) DICKS, so I just kind of sat back and waited to see what ol' John Q had to say.

"Good morning ma'am," (strike one, don't call me ma'am, buddy) "I'm Office Asshole with the Mayberry Police Department. You're being pulled over this morning because you failed to signal 100 feet before making your turn. Is there a reason for this ma'am?" (again with the ma'am)

"Uhhh, um, no." (seriously, that's probably more eloquent than I actually was. I was dumbfounded.) I stare blankly at him.

"Are you in some kind of hurry this morning? What's the rush?"

Blank stare continues. "No rush." Feeble shrug. "Didn't even realize......" my sentence trails off. I don't even know what to say.

"License and insurance please?"

I hand them over. He walks back to his car. And I sit there. And think. And think. Let me paint the picture for you.

I'm in a residential neighborhood. I'm not on a busy street. In fact, there was no one behind me when I approached this stop sign. The cop was on the other street, also at the stop sign. It was 9:00 on a Saturday morning. There were no children playing in the street (as there sometimes are in my neighborhood). I was not speeding. I came to a complete stop. I USED MY SIGNAL. I just didn't turn it on 100 feet prior to making my turn. So for this, the cop MAKES A U-TURN, and pulls me the fuck over. Pardon my French again. But are you fucking kidding me??

Wow, what a menace I am. What a dangerous driver. Thank goodness he was there to prevent me from hurting anyone. Don't bother pulling over people who are, oh, I don't know, actually speeding (which I still think is ridiculous in most situations), or killing people, or selling crack cocaine, or molesting children. No, I'm the real threat to society.

At least he didn't ask to search my car and find that dismembered body and kilo of pure Mexican heroin in my trunk. Whew. Close call.

So he comes back and says,

"Ma'am, I'm only going to write you a warning today. I need you to sign here, which indicates that I have given you a warning for failing to signal 100 feet before your turn."

I sign.

"Thank you. Here's your license and your copy of the warning. You drive safe today."

"..........thanks........."

And I pull away. And I make sure to put my signal on RIGHT THEN AND THERE for the turn that was 2 blocks up. Just in case.

They didn't sell beer or hard liquor at the bakery, which was probably a good thing. And the more I've thought about this little run-in with the law since it happened, the more outraged I've become. I can't see ANY circumstance that would be acceptable for him to pull someone over for THAT. I just can't. Can you? Seriously, please tell me. Because I sure as hell know it wasn't at 9 on a Saturday morning in my own damn neighborhood with no one around me. If he'd have given me a ticket, I would be fighting it. As it is, I will be writing a letter to the good ol' Mayberry Police Department. And the first thing I will tell them is:

You have a pleasant day.

This is not right.

I was at Michaels today on my lunch hour, when I heard some funky sort of music playing nearby. I decided to investigate. This is what I came upon.
NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is JULY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (and just barely)
Seriously, what's next? Christmas decorations in September? Is this what this world has come to?

I am not happy.

Sometimes on Mondays, I have opinions about things. And I need to get them off my chest so I can begin the work week.

Yeah.

So first, and I'm going to preface this entire blog by saying that I almost feel badly about posting about the two people I'm going to post about together at the same time. I feel that one deserves our utmost respect and the other most certainly does not. But they are both things that have been bothering me, so here I go.

I don't really have anything profound to say about Tim Russert, but I always liked him and he will be missed. I liked him because he seemed like the kind of guy you'd be able to sit down with and throw a few beers back, or shots of whiskey if you prefer. He was a great moderator and an awesome reporter, but he also seemed like he'd be a lot of fun at a party. You know what I mean? I bet he had some good jokes.

Anyway, I'm saddened by his death, and my thoughts go to his family and friends.

Onto a much much much more happy subject. I don't know if this is normal, and if other people feel the same way regarding this as I do, but I. Love. The. Olympics.

Like, seriously. For real. Straight up. Word to your mother. I can't get enough of it. And I've officially started my own personal count down. 52 days. Whenever an Olympics is in swing, my life kind of becomes a cycle of, well, watching the Olympics. I tear up every time I hear the beginning of our national anthem. And you want to know a secret? I tear up when I hear "Oh Canada" too. Y'all know how I feel about our neighbors to the north. And that is one beautiful song. While I prefer the games of the Winter Olympics to that of the summer, I am nevertheless very excited about Beijing 2008. It seems like it's been way longer than just 2 years since the last games. Yay Olympics.

And now I will leave you with this and apologize if it terrifies you to your very core the way it does me. I just don't really know what it is I'm looking at exactly.

Is that her HAIR???? I mean, I know she's all cracked out and we should Respect and give the girl some privacy so she can get her rock on in peace, but WTF is that???? Why is she able to stand upright? Does she have small animals living in her hair? I can't imagine the need to have a nest that big sitting up there. Perhaps my friend Charlene needs to rescue them and bring them to live with Pebbles & Bam Bam.

Sorry if that's ruined your Monday. But I had to think about it all weekend. Here's to a great week!

A Plea for Understanding

I didn't upload my pictures last night. Sue me. Seasonal allergies are kicking my ass, and I was tired. I did frog my purse that I was making, though. And then my yarns got all tangled, and I got really frustrated and almost starting crying (over yarn. seriously) and Blain had to come untangle my yarn (don't even try to read into that, you sick bastids) so that I wouldn't fly off the handle. Good times.

Anyhoo, this little blog here is about something that has been plaguing me for some time. This little "problem" isn't keeping me up at night or anything. I mean, it's still business as usual over here. But every time I see this person, or hear his songs on the radio, I just stop and think about it for a good 5-10 minutes. And then I get confused. So now, I'm asking you, bloggy friends, to help me with my question......





















What the hell is the deal with Kanye West?

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No seriously. What is the DEAL? With KANYE? WEST?

Time to objectivise. I realize that I am Old. And also, Uncool. But I find that even with those two handicaps, I usually still have a general understanding of what the kids are listening to, liking, doing, etc. I mean, I listen to pop radio. I get the whole Hannah Montana thing. But I must have missed the boat on Kanye West. Someone please explain it to me.