She Just Slap-Shot the Constitution...

Thanks to everyone who shared this with me...
I love having a "Mocking Sarah Palin" section on le Blog. Fitting.

I'd Like to Phone a Friend...

Once again, SNL...hilarious.

"When cornered, you become increasingly adorable. Is that fair to say?"
And, if possible, this whole impression has made me more smitten with Tina Fey. I want to buy her a BFF necklace or at least get her to blog about the debates. Or just have a blog. And be my BFF.

Ghosts

I finally got up the nerve to ask to whom my dad was referring when he used that vicious pronoun "us" and I was correct, it is my former step-mom. What broke my heart was the other guest my father mentioned that was coming along, "the ghosts of [their] relationship."
Great way to word it but it has crushed me today.
One of my good guy friends just broke up with his long-term girlfriend because of her infidelity and he has his own kind of crushing weight to carry, his own ghosts that haunt. Yesterday he said, "I love her and I'm terrified about what she may do to herself," fueling a conversation about rescuing and being rescued.
I don't believe that we can rescue those we love, we can't save them from themselves. We can love them, we can encourage, we can support but we cannot carry.
Sorry it's such a downer of a post; I blame the rain.

Gods of Gasoline

* I manged to get Rashard Mendenhall just as I found out Willie Parker is out this week. Whew. Also: just heard that Buress is suspended for the Week 5 game and guess who has him as their star WR...the team I'm playing Week 5. Obviously Fantasy gods smiling on me today. I did break my "never draft a Cowboy" rule this week and picked up Felix Jones because of all the Byes. I hope he sucks. I deserve it.

* All of AVL is out of gas...station after station has blank signs and pumps covered in bags. In the parking lot of the local grocery store I saw a worn, 1970s RV with a hand-panted sign in its window, searching for gasoline. "NEED GAS" it said in green marker. I drove by a dry station with a man just parked at the pump, waiting for the truck to show up, hoping that it actually does.
It's like we've suddenly developed an intense faith in the gods of gasoline; that they will provide in our time of need.
I wasn't alive during the gas crisis of the late 70s but this has a feeling akin to that. Part of me thinks, "Well, we deserve it," and I believe we do. But the other part of me worries how I can get to work, to the store, get to anywhere in a country where the infrastructure is built with the sacred emblems of Detroit in mind, in a town where incline is king. Thankfully this week I'm housesitting just three miles from work (with no way to bike there safely).
* My father sent me an email saying "they" were coming to visit next week and had rented a cabin an hour outside of town and inviting "us" out for a night. I don't know who "they" is. I'm kind of afraid to ask.

Weekly Ponderosa

Got my first speeding ticket ever driving from my sister's house in Southern Virginia up to my father's house in northwest VA. I mean I've never even been pulled over. To be honest I was a little excited; I didn't know what to do and I may have scared the cop a bit when I told her it was my first time and that I had been driving for 11 years. And of course she totally fined me (to be fair the speed limit kept changing from 65 to 60 to 55 to 65 to 60 and with the hills I had to keep turning my cruise control on and off, so my 73 in a 60 isn't that giant of a ticket as I couldn't keep track of the limit and I was going with traffic) but afterward we talked about weddings for a while. She was rather nice.

Historically I've been fairly open with some of the more private aspects of my life and so I shouldn't be surprised when that openness manages to find the very clearly marked path back and bite me on the bum as it has recently. Thus I decided to develop and maintain some boundaries and actually keep some private things private. How novel. This has been met with mixed reviews, but then so was “30 Rock” and we all know that it's the best comedy on TV.

Sunday was the very first wedding in which I've been asked to write and read something for the ceremony and I was a wreck leading up to it. The night before the wedding I had four different things I was thinking of reading. I didn't know what they expected me to say! What do I know about love and marriage; I mean look at me! I was worried they wanted me to write a poem and if there is anything I can't write well it's poetry. I'd love to, it just isn't my forte. Prose. Verbosity. Grammar. Love 'em. So in the moments leading up to my speaking I still had two in hand; didn't decide until I stood up and in hindsight I chose correctly.

Here's wedding sum up: Heels. Hair. Old Friends. Old friend's beaus/spouses. Old friend's parents/siblings. Good god it's my AP US History teacher from 10^th grade. Prettiest bride. Choked up groom. Waterproof mascara lies. Wine. Mini bottles of Scotch for the boys. “Hamburgler” used in best man speech. Hid behind wall when bouquet was thrown. Groom's college buddy is giant manwhore. Calves really hurt from heels. Bell ringing. Photos. Goodnight. See you at the next wedding.

I forgot I had a ticket to Brewgrass until the day I was leaving to drive up to VA and so in a panic I hopped on craigslist to see if I could find a buyer. I got hold of a guy in town, we emailed and got it set up, he asked to take me out for a beer in gratitude (I declined as I was leaving right then for a long trip which does require...umm...driving) so then he asked if he could make me a mix CD instead. I said absolutely. So when I met him that evening to do the exchange I got money, a sweet mix CD and possibly another friend to add into the fold. I love you, Asheville.

Wise decision on my part benching Kurt Warner this week. I did it because he was playing the Redskins and that just hurts my loyalties but then he had a crappy game so I looked like a genius. Willie Parker: you let me down.

Lately my head has been the most empty it has seemed in years. I don't know what that means. I feel like my writing skills are off, my thoughts are very shallow and I catch myself staring off thinking of absolutely nothing. I rather like that the constant humming in my head has wained yet I don't appreciate feeling anything less than on my game. Whatever game that may be (unless it's a game on my list). Regardless I'm sensing and reacting to everything at a snail's pace.

VA is no longer home. I've finally come to the realization of this. I love it, I always will, I harbor deep pride in being from VA, I love my friends and my family here, but my home is no longer here. It is in NC. My heart has finally moved south with the rest of me. I feel like when I say, “I'm going home,” all the parts of me finally know what that means.