Welcome to Wherever You Are

I have always been cursed with gross feet.  They were scaly, dry, rough, and, well………nasty.   I hated wearing sandals.  I yearned to get a pedicure, but feared I would have to pay the technician at least double the going rate. 

I tried alot of things to relieve my problem.  In my bathroom closet I have a plethora of lotions, scrubs, and assorted tools to remove the rough scaly skin from one’s feet.  None of them were successful in making my feet look any better.  At one point, after reading in some magazine that dry scaly skin can be the result of untreated athlete foot, I bought some ointment for said affliction.  No success. 

So, I recently purchased a PedEgg, without very high expectations, and am plesantly surprised with the results.  My big toe looks skinner without that big callous on the side, and my feet are so much smoother. 

 I still have a long way to go to make my feet pretty, but they are looking much better. 

One of the hardest things about my job is finding good, clean locations for bathroom breaks. 

I have been fortunate on a few of my routes to have great potty places.  There’s this one church that leaves it’s back door unlocked, and I find it soothing to be in the house of God for a few minutes, if only to take a leak. 

One route I deliver frequently has a county health department on it, which is perfect, unless of course it’s a Saturday………..

Once, out of sheer desperation, I had to use a port-a-john, an experience which taught me to bring along a package of baby wipes in my emergency preparadness bag. 

If the job thing doesn’t work out, I’m going to start a website listing all the clean public restrooms for people that work on the road. 

Today, I had a rare Saturday off.  In fact, it was the fist one since I took the job.  We spent it taking the kids to get haircuts, going to the library, out to eat, visiting my grandparents, and doing a little shopping.

The husband is still having headaches.  He’s had a headache for over 3 weeks now, and his doctor, in her infinite wisdom, decided to put him off work until they can figure out what’s wrong.  They still haven’t found out what’s wrong. 

 As if going through a multitude of tests, medicines, and doctor’s visits without health insurance isn’t enough, now we’re doing it on one income, mine, which can be sometimes sporadic. 

The hubby can’t even watch the kids while I work to save us a little on childcare because of the pain, and the fact that even the smallest thing sets him off nowdays.  ANYTHING.

So today, when he cursed at me, using the 2 worst words, in the middle of a public place, it was my turn to blow my top.  I informed him that he probably has a brain tumor, because he’s like Jekkyl and Hyde, and to keep throwing that F-bomb around, because that’s the only f-ing that’s going to be going on between the 2 of us.   

I guess everything’s just getting to me, my work situation, his medical situation, the economy, everything.  If it weren’t for the boys, I don’t know if we would make it through this still married.

Wow!  I need one of Moonbeam’s depression alerts on this thing.   

I’m not on next week’s schedule.  Not even my name with 7 blank days.  It scares me.  My 90 day probationary period is almost up.  I keep telling myself to quit freaking out, but I feel like I’m going to my own funeral today. 

I love theme parks!  The first park I ever remember attending is the now-defunct Opryland theme park in Nashville, TN.  I was 5 years old, and my mom and I went with a group from our church.  I made my super-pregnant mom ride the “Little Deuce Coupe”, a teacup-type ride, with me so many times that she eventually vomited in the trash can at the exit.  

After that first trip, we made the journey to Opryland multiple times each summer.  At a travel time of 2 hours it was an easy day trip, and I had an aunt that lived in Nashville, (read: free room and board), which allowed for a few imprmptu family reunions, and group trips to Opryland.  

On one occasion, my parents allowed me to go to Opryland with my grandparents and cousin.  Grandma prefered the shows, and only rode one ride, the train, while the tastes of my cousin and I were more fast-paced.  After much nagging,  we were allowed, me at age 7, and her being all of 12, to roam the park minus adult supervision.  I was still a pretty big wussy at that point, so the most exciting ride that I dare was the Dulcimer Splash (log ride). 

While I prefered the rides, I also enjoyed the shows as a small child.  My preference was for the magic show, and I remember my dad being picked from the audience to assist with a trick.  It involved the illusion that his finger was to be chopped off.  Even at a small age, I was an eternal pessimist, and I was terrified that, through some error on the part of the magician, he would emerge from the trick sans index finger. 

Another favorite from my childhood was the Angle Inn.  It was a house that you walked through, and everything was slanted.  I remember my mom not allowing me to have a lollipop in my mouth when we went through it, for fear that I would fall and the stick would become lodged in my throat.  (I’m starting to see where I get my anxiety from).   The park was in an unfortunate situation to be landlocked, and eventually, the Angle Inn was demolished to make room for a new attraction.  The Tin Lizzies, as seen below, suffered the same fate several years later. 

The turning point in my Opryland experience happened when I was 10 years old.  We attended the park again as part of a bigger church group.  My friend Laura came along, and at her prodding, I finally dared ride the Wabash Cannonball.  Prior to that time I had only been brave enough to ride the Rockin Roller Coaster, and was terrified of the Wabash due to it’s 2 upside-down loops.  I mentally pictured myself falling out of my harness and pummelling headfirst towards the ground during one of the loops.  There’s nothing like a double dare to make you overcome your fears. 

I loved it, and from that point on, I was up for the full Opryland experience.   Each subsequent trip became an adventure, with me trying my hand, and stomach, on every thrill ride on the park map.  Opryland became even more exciting when I became a teenager, and was deemed old enough to enjoy the park with a group of peers without an adult supervising our shennanigans.  I recall one youth group trip, on which, armed with my pink LeClick camera, my female friends and I were on a mission to snap photos of the 12 hottest guys there for a proposed calendar.  Good times……..

During my high school years, I spent many a Saturday in Opryland with various church groups, school clubs, and occasionally my own family.  I can’t say that I had a favorite ride, I had many favorite rides, all for different reasons.  I loved the “Little Deuce Coupe” and the “Rockin’ Roller Coaster”, because they were the first rides we went to after entering the park.  To me, they symbolized the end of a long road trip, and the beginning of a fun-filled day, and they both had short lines. 

I also loved Chaos, another roller coaster, which was enclosed in a metal building, and was rode in almost complete darkness. 

I loved the water rides, such as The Old Mill Scream, Grizzly River Rampage, and the Dulcimer Splash, for cooling off on a hot summer day, and I loved the Tennessee Waltz swings for drying out when I got a little too drenched on the water rides. 

I don’t specifically remember the last time I attended Opryland.  It had to be the summer of 1995 or 1996, and I’m sure that time was as exciting as the other dozens of times I went there.  I do know that I waited in line for hours, to ride the park’s newest attraction, the Hangman roller coaster, and that I had no idea that would be the last time I would go to one of my favorite places on Earth. 

In the fall of 1997, after the park closed for the season, it was announced that the park would close permanently.  The company that owned it had opted to build a mall at the site, which would attract tourists year around, rather than just a few months out of the year.  The annual Christmas event, which I never attended, was marketed as the public’s last chance to see the rides in all their glory.  To the chagrin of many, several of the rides were already being dismantled when they came to see them one last time. 

There was no final season, no chance for one last train ride, show, game, or slice of pizza in Do-Wah-Ditty City, where you could relish it, and know that you could never experience it again.  

At the time of the announcement, I was apathetic about the situation.  I was in a location about the same distance from a 6 Flags, as I had been to Opryland, so I knew I had somewhere else to “get my thrill on”. 

It’s closure wasn’t widely publicized, and many a tourist still flocked to Nashville for their annual trip to Opryland the next summer only to find it gone.  My family and I joked that it was much like the one about the 2 blondes going to Disneyworld.  (They saw the sign that said, Disneyworld: Left, so they turned around and went home)  To this day, the hotel and Showboat still function under the Opryland name, and interstate signs still direct you to “Opryland”, which I personally feel is a disgrace. 

While as a youngster I may have acted nonchalant about the demise of Opryland, as an adult and mom, I long for it.  I would love to take my kids there, to share a spin  on the “Little Deuce Coupe”, to fly high on the Barnstormers, and share a funnel cake.

I frequent the mall that took it’s place, affectionately known as, “Shopryland”,  once or twice a year, and quite honestly, it’s not all that spectacular.  I seldom buy anything there,and even during the holiday rush it’s not all that crowded.  I think it was a bad corporate decision, and rumor has it, the company that sold it thinks so too.  The only reason we go to the mall at all is because it has a Bass Pro Shop and I am married to an avid sportsman.  Driving in the parking lot, I try to recall what was where, and it makes me feel like an old fogey.  Seeing the remains of the old Grizzly River Rampage, complete with the cave where a stuffed Grizzly once stood and scared the daylights out of me, gives me an empty feeling inside.  Someone in the memories of Opryland yahoo group said that it was like driving through a graveyard, and I agree. 

Who knows if Opryland would still be successful if it were still operating.  It was land-locked, making expansion difficult, and without progressing I can see how it would be hard to compete.  However, I have a hard time believing that the park was not making money, or that the mall has proven any more successful.

A mall, no matter how big and new, could never take the place of the magic that was Opryland, and not having a last chance to experience it hurts, even a decade later.  It may not have been the biggest or the best theme park, but to me it was perfect!

If you remember Opryland, the theme park that is, I would love to see your comments!

Upon learning about my transfer last week I was terribly upset.  I’ve worked my ass off, one whole size of it,  got stellar eveluations from my supervisors, and as my reward I got shipped off to a brutal office.  After doing the math, and determining that, with the cost of a 100 mile per day commute, I would not be any better off than I was at my previous job, I wanted to call my previous employer and beg for my job back, much like, “drunk dialing”.   It isn’t something that I love, but at least it was secure, and I knew when and where I would work. 

I never made the call.  I thought about it several times, but my pride always prevented it from becoming a reality.   

My first day at office #2, the supervisor asked me where I lived, when I told him, he told me that he could probably work out a swap with an employee from another office, who was driving alot of unnecessary miles.  When I asked about it the next day, I was told that I would know something next week, at which time I would either be transferred or laid off entirely due to a lack of need. 

Upon hearing this news, I wasn’t upset, which shocked alot of people.  I knew that, with the cost of commuting and childcare, I could make more money staying at home.  I also knew, somewhere deep inside of me, that things would work out.   

A couple of months ago, on my last day of training, we had lunch at a Chinese restaurant.  My trainer handed me a fortune cookie, and said, “open it up and see what your fortune with the organization is.”   I chuckled, but was taken aback when I busted into that sucker to find this fortune:

          “You will be sucessful in your work.”

So, when I got transfered, then found out that I might be jobless in the next week, I thought back to that fortune, and to my, “Jovi from heaven”, to reassure myself that everything would be okay. 

I got the news yesterday that my transfer was granted, and for those of you keeping score, that’s 3 home office’s I’ve had in the last 5 days.  I’m much happier about it this time.  I am now based out of the town I trained in, my hometown.  A town that I have worked in several times, and have already proven myself in.  I have been on one of the routes 10 times, and am getting better than as good as the regular.  The best part is, I’m 13 miles from home, and less than 10 miles from the school the oldest will be attending in a few months, if they need me for that long, which I hope they do.

It sucks having a “temporary” job, when you weren’t fully aware that you were accepting a temporary job.  It sucks when you realize the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel is the headlamp of a speeding train, however, sulking about it accomplishes nothing. 

I realized something else this week.  Even if this doesn’t work out, I don’t think I’d go back to the old job, even if they asked me to (which they have).  I wasn’t happy there, and it took leaving to figure that out.  If I accepted my position back, I would ultimately wind up leaving it again for something better, something with health insurance and vacation time.  Leaving twice wouldn’t be fair to my old bosses. 

Therefore, I intend to ride this wave for as long as I can, rather it be a week or a decade.  If or when it ends, I’ll move on to the next chapter of my life.  Unlike some of my cohorts, I have no regrets about quitting a steady job for this chaotic one.  Leaving my old job put a spring back into my step, brought me out of a fog, and gave me the confidince that I can do something else.  Taking on this job, and being successful at it, has fulfilled me, and I’ve lost 20 pounds to boot! 

The hubby and I enjoyed a rare date night Saturday night.  We went to eat, then caught a movie.  We had some time to kill in between, and were in the truck headed to the hardware store (how romantic) when my camera phone started clicking in my pocket.  The following conversation ensued:

J:  What’s that?

Me:  My butt taking pictures.  I wish I hadn’t forgotten my phone Thursday night………

J:  Why, so you could have Bon Jovi in your ass now?

Me:  No, so I could’ve taken some pics of Jon with it, and used them for my wallpaper.  And for the record, I would let Jon in my ass, or anywhere else he wanted to be, anytime he wanted. 

J:  Well then, you could just start pretending I was him and let me there. 

Me:  I do try pretend you’re him, every night, it doesn’t work. 

See if he makes me go to Lowe’s on our next date night. 

We saw the new flick, “Baby Mama”. It was hilarious. One part in particular cracked both of us up, and it wasn’t really that funny. The movie was set in Philadelphia, and the character’s boyfriend couldn’t take her to the doctor because he was busy trying to win a radio contest who’s grand prize was arena football tickets. J started yelling, “that’s you”. (JBJ owns Philly’s arena football team).

The guys were wonderful Thursday night in Nashville, as ususal. 

Our seats were located stage right, near the rear of the arena, on the second row of the risers.  Relative to most of the seats in the arena, they were fabulous, however for an avid fan like myself, nothing short of front row is close enough to Bon Jovi. 

The show kicked off with Daughtry, and they were amazing.  I had alot of patience for them, which is unusual for me in regards to a Bon Jovi opening act.  I espically loved their ability to throw in pieces of other songs into their songs, such as starting their song “Home” with the intro to Motley Crue’s, “Home Sweet Home”.  They also inserted part of Johnny Cash’s, “I Walk The Line”, into one of their songs. 

During the intermission between bands, I was plesantly surprised to see a familiar face in the crowd.  Matt, little bro of Jon, was walking around on the floor level near our seats.  (I am not a stalker, I recognized him from the biography-type shows he is often interviewed on.)  He stopped to talk to someone, standing right in front of us for a few minutes.  Sadly, that was as close as I would get to a real-live Bongiovi that night. 

The guys finally appeared and rocked the following setlist:

LOST HIGHWAY
BORN TO BE MY BABY
YOU GIVE LOVE A BAD NAME
RAISE YOUR HANDS

JUST OLDER
I’LL SLEEP WHEN I’M DEAD w/ Gimme Some Lovin’ & Start Me Up
SUMMERTIME
IN THESE ARMS
BLOOD MONEY (AWESOME RARITY)
BLAZE OF GLORY
WHOLE LOT OF LEAVIN’ GOIN’ ON
SOMEDAY I’LL BE SATURDAY NIGHT
WE GOT IT GOIN’ ON w/ Big & Rich
IT’S MY LIFE
BAD MEDICINE w/ Shout
I’LL BE THERE FOR YOU - RICHIE VOX
(YOU WANT TO) MAKE A MEMORY
TILL WE AIN’T STRANGERS ANYMORE w/ LeAnn Rimes
WHO SAYS YOU CAN’T GO HOME
HAVE A NICE DAY
KEEP THE FAITH
LIVIN’ ON A PRAYER

ENCORE:
I LOVE THIS TOWN
WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

After my last Big & Rich encounter, I’m not really a fan, however I did get a laugh when Jon told Big Kenny that he had that same jacket………..in 1987.  I didn’t manage to score any good pics, but you can see it here.

I was also plesantly surprised to get to see and hear Leann Rimes, but I do wish she would wear more clothes. 

The setup was very neat.  There were 4 screens, flashing images of the guys, and they would sometimes come together to form one big screen.  It was very cool, although I missed the usual huge Jumbotron for getting pics.  With the 4 smaller screens switching images so sporadically, it was hard to get good pics of what you wanted before something else appeared.  Judging from my pics, one would think that I am a huge fan of Richie’s crotch.  Here are a few of the better images I managed to score. 

1 Johnny is good, but 4 is not bad either:

One thing I despise about Bon Jovi shows is that, over the past few tours, Jon has taken a break and allowed Richie to sing vocals on their hit, “I’ll Be There For You”, which is one of my absolute favorite Bon Jovi songs.  I think that song should be performed the way it was originally recorded, the way it was made a hit, the way God intended it to be performed, with Jon singing it.  Please don’t accuse me of being a Richie hater, I have all his solo stuff and love it.  I would love to hear it incorporated into the band’s live show.  I’m not opposed to Richie’s singing, I would just prefer him to stick to his own songs. 

Following the solo, Jon reappeared, in the midst of the crowd about one section over from where we were.  He had changed from that boring black vest, and was smokin’ hot in a red shirt.  Had I been with another adult, rather than a child, I would’ve been able to get closer, however I did manage to get some good pics when Jon was near us, including this one:

Notice all the happy female faces in the foreground. 

And just when I thought he couldn’t possibly get any hotter, he changed into a blue one for the encore.  I don’t know which one I like better.

But all good things must come to an end, and after a way too short 2 song encore, the guys said goodbye to Nashville, leaving the packed house wanting more.

My little cousin loved the show, but only the Daughtry part.  He sat in his seat appearing bored out of his mind during Bon Jovi.  Maybe I didn’t get a convert, but you can’t blame me for trying.

I know you guys are expecting the mandatory, post-Jovi, post, and if you’re here for that, you’ll just have to wait.  Something has happened that has me terribly upset. 

I found out that I am being transfered to another office.  An office that is more than 50 miles from my house.  A very strict office, where you can get fired for breaking the most miniscule of rules.  I’m not happy about it. 

I feel like I was lied to, taken advantage of, and just plain screwed.  When I left my old job for this one, I was told, off the record, that it would be permanent, and could work into something more.  Now, a mere 2 months later, I am being shipped off. 

Part of me feels like I should just get over it, and be happy that I even have a job in this volitile economy.  There are lots of people that don’t, including one of the other people that was hired with me. 

Then there is the other part of me that is pissed, angry that I’m having to leave my local office.  Angry that I am going to lose 2.5 hours each day commuting.  Angry that I will have to spend over $100 each week in gas.  Angry that I am going to be an hour away from my kids.  Angry that, last week, I declined an offer to come back to my old job, because factoring in the commute time and expense, I’ll only be making a maximum of $10 per day more.  Angry that I got this news Friday, which ruined my post-Jovi high. 

However, old work has hired another replacement, and quitting a job you love in a bad location, in favor of a job you loathe in a good location is probably not a good idea in the first place.  So, I suppose I’ll stick it out, hope I don’t get fired, and pray for a transfer closer to home. 

I have a date for tomorrow night, and it’s not my mother.

In my quest to give away my extra ticket, and find a partner for tomorrow night’s show, I called my cousin, who lives in the Nashville area, to see if she would be interested in tagging along.  She is a few years older than me, and I remember her having an affinity for the guys back in the big hair days. 

She told me that her oldest son, age 10,  had been asking them if they would take him to see Bon Jovi.   She asked him what his favorite song was, and he belted out “Wanted Dead Or Alive”.  When I told her Daughtry was opening, and she relayed the message to her son, I heard him scream in the background.  I knew that if she went with me, he would be extremley jealous.

A few phone calls later, she declined the invitation due to the inability to make other arrangements for her youngest sons school function.  She added a message from the 10 year old, saying that he, “had $100, and he would pay for his own ticket if I would take him.”  She also said that he plays a Bon Jovi CD every night when he goes to bed. 

I began thinking of myself at age 11, attending my first Jovi show, chaperoned by my mom’s best friend.  I thought, “what the hell, why not pay it forward.”  I called her back, told her to tell the kid to bring his benji, but not for the ticket, that’s on me.  The tee shirts, however, are not.   

Mom’s still going to tag along for the ride, and go to the school function with my kids and my cousin, while I’m rocking out with my 10 year old cousin.

Do I smell a convert?  I certainly hope so, because in another few years I’ll need me a young whippersnapper to drive me to the shows.