BAD GIRL, BAD GIRL. WHATCHA GONNA DO?

Coming back from visiting my "adopted" family in Connecticut, I was well...speeding along on the Maine Turnpike just past the Kennebunk rest stop. As I was going around 78-80mph I thought to myself, "Boy...I hope I don't get a ticket."


It was weird. I literally had this strange feeling as though I might get a ticket. I can't explain it. Plus, there was this strange car that I had a feeling was a cop car, but I had no reason to. The plates were "normal", the driver was "normal" and there was NOTHING on this car that looked like a cop. Nothing.

The car that looked just like this one only black I passed in the fast lane. I glanced over at the guy driving. "Normal" looking guy too. Then he pulled in behind me...and that 's when the flashing blue lights went on.

My heart immediately went into my throat and I just about crapped my pants. THAT WAS A COP??! And I had that sinking feeling all along too! Soooo weird. So, when he pulls me over - I'm semi ready for him. My license was in a coat pocket in my overnight bag in the back seat. I figured I'd better not twist around and try to get it or he'll think I'm going for a gun and arrest my ass. So I had my registration and insurance and waited for him. He came over and was realllly mad! He said, "DO YOU KNOW HOW FAST YOU WERE GOING?!"

I stammered out a meek, "75?"

"NO!" he yelled, "YOU WERE GOING 78 AND THEN 80 WHEN YOU PASSED ME!" Then he lectured me about how sick and tired he was of writing out tickets today and that I had better slow down and drive safer! He didn't ask for anything. No license, no nothing. He just warned me (no written warning) and stomped off. I was stunned. It was a state trooper! And he let me go with a parental warning.

I was never so grateful! Two seconds after I safely pulled back into traffic, he had two cars pulled over and was at it again.

Whoever you are Mr. State Trooper, thanks for the 300 dollar savings. I don't know what I did that made you let me go...but I really appreciate it!

WOW...WHAT AN EVENT

Every year when we do our breast cancer fundraiser, I freak out. It's just part of my personality...I simply can't help but be paralyzingly scared to death. I'm just scared that our "Cans for a Cure" won't go well, or that the show will suck for three days...that it will simply sound like begging - and I'm always scared we simply won't hit our goal and get the Maine Cancer Foundation or the Cancer Community Center the money they need and deserve.



And every year I am always blown out of the water with the generosity of our listeners. It stops me cold.



Some stories are gut wrenching with loss. Some are so filled with strength and hope. But everyone is just so damn generous. This year you cannot swing a dead cat without hitting a news story of the world coming to an end. GAS, HEAT, WALL STREET, GROCERIES...ALL TOO EXPENSIVE!

And yet people showed up. With bags and bags of returnables. With money. With stories. And it all pushed us up and wayyy over our goal of a quarter of a million bottles and cans to over 305,000! That's a lot of money one nickle at a time.

So, this seems like a rambling pointless blog (isn't that the point of a blog?) but I just wanted you to know that it is appreciated more than my no college education can think of saying. So thanks...thanks a ton!

INCREDIBLE HULK

Okay. I'm usually a pretty even keeled person (except for the 28 out of 30 days a month I'm pms-ing). But there is something happening in my neighborhood that has been bugging the CRAP outta me!

The triple decker apartment building across the street is getting painted. But there is ONE guy doing it and he's in one of those lift things. You know it looks like a cherry picker on steroids...and it's blue. AND IT BEEPS.

AND BEEPS AND BEEPS AND BEEPS AND BEEPS AND BEEPS!!!

It beeps if you move it. It beeps if it's uneven. It double beeps if you move it AND it's uneven. Well, this guy has been painting for two weeks now. I have heard so much beeping that I have been going out of my BEEPING mind!

So, yesterday I said something to him. I had to whistle like I was calling a cab to get his attention, because of the...yup, beeping. He was sitting in the little cage a couple of stories up NOT moving and painting while his steroid cherry picker beeped.

I said, "Hi."

He said, "I know, I know...I'm trying to work quickly and not disturb the neighborhood." (too late buddy).

I asked, "Why are you beeping?"
"Because it's uneven, and if I could drive through that tree it would stop beeping."

I said dejected, "Oh," and walked away.

I think he hates me. But today the beeping was much better. He either leveled that BEEPing thing or simply used an old fashioned ladder! But I feel less like the Incredible Hulk with less beeping.