Wednesday, March 3, 2010

My cars have always been boys

I recently bought a new car. A Black 2008 Pontiac G8. It's quite a fast car, and one night after I first bought it, I took Rachel out for a spin. At one point, I was trying to pull out into traffic. So I put the hammer down, and let the engine take over. Rachel was in awe of the cars power ( or so I like to think) and she was quick to name it The Batmobile. The name has stuck and is always referred to as the Batmobile. Since being named, Rachel has decided she wants to recant the name or take it back what you will. She states that every time she sees the name of the dealership on the back of my car "Belle-Wasik" she thinks of Belle Watson from the book Gone with the Wind. For those of you not familiar with the story, Belle Watson was the red headed town whore, who ran the brothel that Rhett Butler frequented. She is adamant that the car be called Belle Watson. I on the other hand refuse to rename it, one being that the Batmobile is an awesome name, and two my cars have always been boys.

My first car was an 88 Buick Lesabre. It had a tape deck, the driver side window would not roll down, and if the service engine light was not on you had a problem. My license plate read TED 362 and so the Lesabre was christened Ted. My friends and I still managed to order fast food we would just use the rear passenger window or walk up, apparently now they do not allow this practice. I eventually saved up some money and bought a new car.

It was a 96 Cutlass Supreme. I loved that car! A key selling point aside from the remote car start, which in Michigan is necessary, was the fact that it at one time had a been a stolen car. It made the car seem more bad ass. Even though it had been recovered it had been stolen at one point, not many people can say that about their car. Rachel and I would take freedom rides in the Cutlass all the time. One day we just so happened to be taking a trip to Port Huron. As we were cruising down the road at normal speeds might I add. Out of no where a pheasant flies up and was careening towards my windshield. We both screamed at the top off our lungs and ducked., The ducking part may not have been the smartest thing for me (the driver) to do as I was driving but it was my gut reaction. I hit the brakes but it was too late. The pheasant slammed into my windshield. Luckily it had not shattered through the glass, just cracked the windshield. We were safe. I drove my car to the insurance company, that just so happened to be on the way to Port Huron. Rachel was the first to get out of the car, and she said "Anne you have got to see this." I was preparing myself for the worse, a pheasant head hanging off the windshield. I looked, the only traces of the incident were a few feathers and some blood. Rachel and I kicked around some names for the car, all revolving around the word pheasant. Nothing seemed to fit, then one of us said "The Blue Goose". Thus the Cutlass was named.

Many miles later, the Blue Goose was sold, and I began to drive a hunter green 98 Cadillac Deville. What a sweet ride, that car was fully loaded and ready to cruise. That fall as I was heading back to Rochester one night, three deer ran out in front of me. I unfortunately clipped the last deer. It was only fitting that it be named the Deer Hunter.

Eventually I moved back home and so I had to get a more fuel efficient car. Thus enters the Saturn Ion. It was silver and it was a zippy little car with suicide doors. When I went to pick up the car, the plates read "BLU 3566. So the car was named Little Boy Blue. Nothing really interesting happened to the car for the time that I had it, so the name was all it had.

So now you see that all my cars were boys. Sorry Rachel the Batmobile wins over Belle Watson. My car is a class act, not a prostitute from a story.

Monday, March 1, 2010


After along day of work (and weekend too) I was heading to the office to drop off some stuff before heading out for the day. It just so happened that some couple (around my age) wound up walking behind me. Now if you work with me you know that I have a distinct walk, due to the fact that one leg is longer than the other, but that is another story. Everyone knows when I'm coming, I cannot sneak up on anyone. I do not have the gift nor tact for stealth. Anyways the couple behind decides to start stomping their feet as they walk. I am assuming in an attempt to make fun of me and entertain themselves as well. Seriously annoying! It's not like I was exaggerating my strut or anything. But it was pretty obvious what they were doing and this really started to piss me off. Luckily I cut them off as I headed into the office. I hope someone made fun of them today.

So it has been awhile since I've posted anything on this blog. Apparently my life is not as interesting as I once thought. I have been at a loss as to what I should write in here, and I have been partially lazy. I did not foresee this post as being an absolutely riveting read . Hopefully you laughed or maybe you just might feel better about yourself because your not me.

Monday, September 21, 2009

The Cane Sugar Experiment

Since the beginning of summer mom has been on a mission to get dad to lower his blood pressure. If you knew dad you would know how difficult a task she undertook. The first change mom was going to institute was cutting down on his salt intake. For the most part mom and dad eat very healthy but dad had a hard time giving up his salting habits. He enjoys food on his salt. Somehow mom prevailed with the salting habits, and was able to get him to switch to sea salt. Although he still sneaks heavily salt rimmed margaritas. She has also resorted to hiding the salt shakers. Throughout the summer mom has reported to me that dad's blood pressure has steadily dropped to a more healthy level. Dad on the other hand still thinks he can get it lower. Thus other eating habits needed to be altered, but what could be done.

A few weeks ago when I was home mom and I were discussing the situation. I mentioned to her that dad does put a lot of sugar in his coffee every morning. Maybe she could find a way to curb the sugar habit. Dad does have a bit of a sweet tooth, he adamantly denies if confronted. So I told mom to switch out his sugar with Splenda. He would end up using less sugar and not be the wiser. But mom couldn't tell dad she was doing that because he wouldn't use the Splenda. So that Sunday night she switched out his sugar jar and added the splenda. When I was home next I asked mom how the sugar switch went. "Now for the rest of the story."

Mom: "I completely forgot to fix his coffee for him, and for the first two days he put too much in and had to throw out his coffee."
Me: "What did you tell him? Could he tell that it wasn't sugar?"
Mom: "He kept saying this is too sweet what is up with this?" "I keep putting the same amount I always put in."
Mom: "So I told him it's probably cane sugar, it's sweeter, and you use less. I told him that Krystal was making jams and different things and she probably bought it and it just got mixed up." She also told him that cane sugar costs more but you wind up using less so it ends up costing the same as regular sugar.

I thought this was extreme genius and quick thinking on moms behalf. So he couldn't tell the difference and started using a quarter of the amount of sugar than he normally used. I was home this past weekend and was getting ready to go out on Friday night. Mom comes up to me and whispers, "Remind me to tell you about the cane sugar tomorrow, your dads still up and I don't want him to hear me." To say the least I was intrigued. The next morning mom comes up to me and says "your dad ran out of cane sugar. He says he will only eat cane sugar now." Apparently they were in the grocery store arguing over buying regular sugar and cane sugar and dad refused to buy real sugar saying he was only going to buy cane sugar from now on. So on Sunday mom was going to send me out to buy a bag of cane sugar and more bags of splenda so we could pull the old switcheroo. Dad comes into the kitchen and hears us talking about sugar. He says to me, "Do you know I've switched to cane sugar and I'm not going back to real sugar. It's better! It really is!" Meanwhile I'm trying to keep a straight face while he defends the merits of cane sugar.

So if you ever happen to be at the house and see a bag marked Dad's Cane Sugar steer clear unless of course you happen to like splenda. I have since learned that he has a bag of cookies in the car and in the bedroom. Small victories! Also keep in mind that this story or the details explained herein cannot be divulged to dad.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

So I haven't been very faithful...

At blogging that is, it has been over a month since my small readership has seen a new blog. Much has happened in that time, and I guess between being busy and a little lazy. I let blogging slip by the wayside. So what have I been up to, I took a trip to Chicago, a trip to Grand Rapids, work, and of course the gym. I have not seen the return of gold-i-locks. But I have a new gym interest I will report on a later date.

So I got a four day weekend off from work, which is unheard of in the world of retail. So I headed to Chicago to spend some time in the windy city and hang out with Tommy. On the trek out there I came down with a bit of a cold/sinuses still not clear which one. The drugs I took to combat it the entire weekend were not very successful. Once in Chicago it seemed the theme for the weekend was food. I'm not complaining though because I enjoy food immensely, who doesn't? Maybe models. Anyway our first food destination was Duke of Perth, it seems Tommy enjoys a hamburger they serve there although they have only made it right once. He still holds out hope that they will get it right again. I enjoyed the Sean Connery burger it was more beefy than sexy. Still good though. On Friday we made our next food excursion to the famous Hot Doug's. If you are a fan of the Anthony Bourdain show "No Reservations" you may have heard of them or perhaps even gone there for yourself. The thing about Hot Doug's aside from the awesome hot dog's is that you must wait in line for at least an hour. The wait is worth it, though I can't even remember what kind of dog I got. I just remember it was so good and messy that a majority of it wound up on me. Oh and the french fries, fried in duck fat were pretty good too. Finally to top off our food excursion weekend we went to the Chicago Brahaus. Which is an authentic German restaurant, way better than those chicken shacks in Frankenmuth. I would say the visit to the Brahaus was the pinnacle of the trip. Not only was the food and entertainment good, they had an actual polka band and dancing, but they also had "The Boot". For those of you that have seen the movie Beerfest you know what I'm talking about, if not it is a boot that holds over 2 liters of beer. When Tommy found out they did indeed have The Boot, he had to order it. They had one disclaimer though; you break it you buy it. To Tommy's credit, he did indeed finish the boot, and somewhere out there are pictures to prove it. I wrapped up my trip to Chicago with a day on the beach, which resulted in a nasty sunburn and some really funky tan lines.

Grand Rapids:
The weekend following my Chicago trip I headed out to Grand Rapids. To see my neice Olivia and also to spend time with April and Jb. Every time I go to Grand Rapids we usually don't wind up doing much of anything. But when our sister Krystal goes out there they do some Grand Rapids sight seeing. This has always boggled April, and so this time April and I had planned to do some Grand Rapids touristy type things. This did not end up happening, due mostly to the weather we did not wind up doing much of anything again. I am not complaining though because I still had a very nice, if not very hot weekend. The one excursion we did do though, was a trek to the local ice cream shop. Mind you it was probably about 90 degrees out and the humidty was thru the roof, and although April claimed it was only a 3 mile walk round trip I did not believe her. It felt more like a 3 mile trip one way. April ran the whole 1.5 miles back due to a cranky baby and having to use the bathroom. How she managed to do that I still can not understand. I did mapquest it after we got back and April was right it was only 3 miles round trip!

As for work there is not much to say. It's business as usual. Hopefully I won't be so long to blog again this time around.

Friday, July 10, 2009


Since moving to Port Huron I have joined a gym. During my workout I find myself watching the other gym goers. Most of the time I am marveling at how ripped some of the men are, and how much they are actually lifting. I am for the most part quite impressed. Other times my eyes wander into the other factions that attend the gym as well. I am surprised, and then not at what I find. There are the usual bimbos that go with full on makeup, jewelry, and are scantily clad. Clearly they are there on the prowl. Then there are the men who are there clearly to pick up these gym bimbos. They hardly use the equipment but manage to look like they are constantly busy. Not an easy task to accomplish. When there are no bimbos in the gym, you can see these men wandering around aimlessly from machine to machine. Half-heartedly attempting to work out. Eventually they give up and go home their main motivation for the gym has eluded them for the time being. Of course there are people there who are actually interested in working out I call us (I'm lumping myself in this group) the normals. Like any place there are always a few weirdos and nut balls that come as well but they are harmless if not amusing.

It just so happens that on a visit to the gym earlier this week revealed a new person to me who belongs in one of these aforementioned groups. I was on the elliptical machine pumping away (I think that is correct) when a man from the weirdo group passed by my way. I couldn't help but stare and try really hard to make it look like I was not staring. But this man had a full head of feathered hair, it would have made Farrah Fawcett jealous during her Charlie's Angels hay day. The color was like gold honey, no hair dresser could have ever achieved that color thru a bottle. To top it off he was wearing a red bandana as a head band. I continued on with my workout as usual when he came out of the locker room. This guy we will call him Gold-i-locks, had chosen not to tie back his lustrous locks but instead left them down and out in all of there glory. As Gold-i-locks mounted the elliptical machine and started going, not a piece of hair moved out of place. I finished my workout before he did so, I didn't have time to further investigate this curious creature. Needless to say I haven't seen him back at the gym, but that doesn't mean he isn't out there somewhere. I will see him and study him further and report back my findings.