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Mingle² - Online Dating

Danger Will Robinson!

The 'chick is not exactly sure which brother came up with the bright idea that Mom needed a computer. Roadchick's mom is not exactly tech savvy and not much of an adventurer. But, she wanted to feel like she was a part of the 21st century and so, a computer was selected and purchased.

Actually, several computers were selected and purchased and returned or sold.

The cycle began about two years ago. Roadchick's mom decided she needed a laptop. So she could be "on the line". Yeah.

Roadchick, being a dutiful daughter, took Mom shopping for a laptop. Mom could afford a computer capable of launching the Space Shuttle. The laptop she picked out was so sweet that it made the 'chick weep with envy but also brought a ray of hope to her blackened heart, thinking Mom would soon tire of this new activity and the 'chick would be on the receiving end of some very sweet technology.

A week went by. Mom called. She was ready, she announced, to take the laptop out of the box.

What the fuck?

If Roadchick had bought that computer, it would've been out of the box before she ever made it across the parking lot to the car.

Roadchick went over to Mom's house and prepared to Set Up The Computer.

A sharp knife was on hand to slice the security tape sealing the box. She was poised, ready to cut.

WAIT!

Maybe this wasn't a good idea - after all, so many years without a computer, why start now?

She returned the laptop to the store and there was a vast and grateful silence across the countryside.

About six months ago, the computer virus (because it has to be something that causes relapses) reared its ugly head again. This time, Mom went to the brothers.

Eldest brother guided her through the selection process and again, a sweet laptop was purchased and delivered. A wireless mouse. Internet service from the cable company was ordered and installed. She got a wireless router, for God's sake.

Mom played with it for about a week, then decided it was not for her.

For the love . . .

The laptop was sold to a business associate of elder brother.

An E-Machine was selected and purchased. Eldest brother was once again enlisted in the set-up. Middle brother's mad computer skillz were also called into play. Everything was ready to go.

Except.

Except they didn't finish the install of Microsoft Word.

Except they didn't teach her how to open an email attachment.

Except they didn't teach her how to REPLY to an email.

Except one of them, curse his blackened soul, told her that if she ever saw a yellow triangle with an exclamation point in it, it was a PROBLEM that MUST BE DEALT WITH RIGHT AWAY BEFORE THE NUCLEAR WEAPONS COULD LAUNCH AND BRING ANNIHILATION UPON ALL MANKIND.

Except they didn't tell her to call them for technical assistance.

The call came at 4:00 this afternoon, just as the 'chick was settling into the hot, hot car after a long day at work.

The Yellow Triangle Of Doom had reared its ugly head and the 'chick must come fix it RIGHT AWAY.

Never mind that the 'chick had other activities planned.

So . . . the triangle?

It was telling her that it was time to run a virus scan.

Rest easy.

The Free World is safe.

Until next week, when it's time to scan again.

This Is The Way We Wash Our Clothes

Sometimes, the 'chick likes to be shocking. To throw something out there that no one was expecting. Redneck got a dose of this little personality quirk recently.

Since the 'chick has been so busy for work and on the road so much, her personal laundry got a little neglected. That is why women should have large wardrobes with lots of clothing options. The 'chick has worn a different outfit every day for several weeks and not repeated anything twice. This includes a very LARGE dresser drawer full of bras and panties. Enough so that the 'chick never had to resort to wearing her Christmas panties in June because everything else was in the hamper.

Hamper? Who are we kidding? The laundry overflowed the hamper about two weeks ago and has since spread across the closet (walk-in, fortunately) like a slowly growing ground cover.

So, time to do the laundry.

Redneck was kicked back on the bed, watching a movie when the 'chick decided it was time to face the situation - that no one was going to take a hint and do her laundry. He wasn't paying much attention to what was going on at first, being totally absorbed in cars and buildings blowing up and aliens and half-clad women prancing across the screen, but eventually, he looked over to see what was going on.

The 'chick was sorting laundry into piles.

Jeans and dark clothes - check.
White t-shirts and tops - check.
Clothing that required some sort of special attention - check.

All this looked pretty normal to Redneck.

Then his gaze wandered to another pile.

"What's all that?"

"Panties and bras."

"But there is enough for two loads there."

"Yeah - so?"

"Don't you think that you might have a problem?"

"You know that the 'chick hasn't been home to do the laundry."

"No, that's not what I mean. What I mean is - you haven't done laundry in a long time. You have not worn anything twice. And there are still bras and panties in the dresser."

Blank look from Roadchick.

Silence from Roadchick.

"'Chick, there are very few people in the world that keep a three month supply of bras and panties on hand for emergencies."

"Then that explains the smell on airplanes, doesn't it?"

An Open Letter

Dear Swimwear Designer,

First of all, please accept our thanks for discovering the wonderful world of the "tankini". It makes good sense to allow women everywhere to choose the correct size for both top and bottom. This is a good thing.

So, please, don't take it the wrong way when we point out that, for some of us, the ones that Mother Nature has been . . . generous with . . .the cute, adorable suits do not quite fit, exactly. The bottoms are great - couldn't be better. The problem is with the tops.

The tops. Where to begin?

See, Swimwear Designer, some of us actually have breasts, boobs, casaba melons - whatever term gets your heart racing. And sometimes, our bodies are not really in proportion. (Think Pamela Anderson. Think Anna Nicole Smith. Think Dolly Parton.)

And when our bodies are not in proportion, we have a problem finding swimwear if we cannot afford to have our own swimwear designer available to whip up custom sized pieces.

In order to find tops that fit and cover more than a bandaid, we have to look at the misses' and women's sizes. Now, please, sit down for this next part - who in the hell told you that larger women (no matter WHY they are larger) actually like wild purple floral prints that look like Grandma on acid? Whoever led you astray should be shot. Honey, no one looks good in that shit.

Is there a particular reason that you, Swimwear Designer, think that women who need a little more coverage can't have the cute styles and patterns too? Is there a reason that you cannot just extend the style all the way up the size range?

Let the 'chick give you an example.

There was an adorable white eyelet tankini. The bottoms were fabulous. The top, well, not so good. Maybe as a bandana to hold back her hair. As a swim top suitable for public wear? Uh uh, nope, no way.

Your assistance would be greatly appreciated by women everywhere.

Sincerely,

Roadchick

Midsummer's Night Dream

June 21st marks the summer solstice. For people living in the Northern Hemisphere, it is the day with the longest span of daylight. Starting tomorrow, daylight will begin to shorten bit by bit and it will start getting darker earlier.

"Just for fun, my family invented a religion like the Shakers we called Stillwater. I'm eldress, and we have a big celebration on Midsummer's Eve. It's really a state of mind. Stillwater connotes something very peaceful, you see, life without stress. Nowadays, people are so jeezled up. If they took some chamomile tea and spent more time rocking on the porch in the evening listening to the song of the hermit thrust, they might enjoy life more.

Stillwater believers are very hedonistic. Life is to be enjoyed, not saddled with. Do you know that lovely quotation from Fra Giovanni? He was an old monk from away back who wrote to his patron, 'The gloom of the world is but a shadow: behind it, yet within our reach, is joy. Take joy.' That's the first commandment of the Stillwater religion. Joy is there for the taking."

~ Tasha Tudor, from The Private World of Tasha Tudor

In honor of the day, following the grand traditions of a variety of spiritual beliefs worldwide ~ Pagan, Catholic, Stillwater, and others. . . the 'chick is going to take a break tonight, sit on the deck, enjoy the evening, and relax.

Take joy.

Roughin' It

Are we there yet?

Y'all, that is what the trip to Gatlinburg and the trip back from Gatlinburg was like for the 'chick.

It's been a LOOOOONG time since she's had to travel with a nine-year-old boy.

It's funny how easy it is to forget that boys are never quiet and never still. They are difficult to amuse for less than $9 kazillion dollars a day. They always want to eat. They don't want to visit "Sites Of Interest". They want to race go-karts.

(Actually, Roadchick wanted to race go-karts too, so she can't say too much about that one.)

The "family" trip to Gatlinburg included a free place to stay - Best Friend's husband works in Knoxville during the week and offered to let the Roadie Crew use his apartment over the weekend. Being a typical man, away from the tender loving care of his wife, his apartment contained the following:

Navy blue leather recliner, used
TV tray
End table
TV on end table
Stereo (on floor)
DVD/VCR combo (on floor)
6000 VHS movies (on floor)
4 DVD movies (on floor)
Air mattress
3 plastic food storage containers
3 plastic glasses
Jello pudding snacks
Hot dogs
3 towels
Bar of soap
Toilet paper, 1-ply

But, it was free and it was quiet and more than adequate for the 'chick's purposes. She did not go to the mountains to sit in an apartment. And it was free. And close to a Hooter's (which was probably a big selling point to Best Friend's husband).

Unfortunately, all fun things must come to an end and the 'chick had to return to work. And that's exactly what it's been - work. A LOT of work. The 'chick hasn't seen the inside of her Nashville office in what seems like weeks and there's no telling when it will get better.

Good news is, the 'chick has entered the 21st century. Her lovely, wonderful bosses bought her a new laptop that has wireless. Amazing. Amazing technology. It's wonderful. Wonderfully amazing.

The 'chick's neighbors would likely be amazed to know that the 'chick's new laptop picks up their wireless signal when she is at home, perched on her bed, trying to finish up notes and reports. Makes life wonderfully simple, really.

It's nice to have good neighbors.

Overheard

Redneck, Roadchick, and the boys went to Gatlinburg last weekend.

Overheard from the back seat:

Skaterboy (age 9): I want a tattoo.

Rockboy (age 17): Of what?

Skaterboy: A naked lady.

Rockboy: Where are you going to put it?

Skaterboy: On my muscle.

Rockboy: Well, when you get a muscle, we'll get you a tattoo.