One Hookers Ramblings

I have decided it's time to move along.  My new home will be My Flavor of Crazy.  It's a mix of this blog and Just say no to crotchfruit. It is a work in progress so please forgive me if I manage to totally screw some shit up.

Several weeks ago I was talking to the guy that washes our truck and he expressed some interest in becoming a truck driver and asked me what advice I might have to give.  Shut up fuckers quit laughing, it really happened.  I think my advice may not have been exactly what he was looking for but that wouldn't be the first time someone was disappointed by what came out of my mouth.

As you know a couple of weeks ago I got to go on a surprise trip to Fort Worth & see Hank III.  I am absolutely in love with his music.  His set runs the gamut from classic country to hellbilly to full on heavy metal.  How can you not love it?  He has the only country album with a parental advisory sticker.  Just thought I'd share a few of my favorites.

There are many days that the thought of getting out of bed & facing the world is just entirely way too much, but I do it. There are many days that I have to pull the truck over because I am crying so hard.  I stop, have my cry and go on.  Why don't I tell you these things when we talk?  Not because I'm ashamed but because I don't want people feeling sorry for me.  Some days I have called thinking maybe today I can tell her, but then there seems to be something going on in your life & you need a shoulder to cry on.  Did you ever think that maybe I need a shoulder occasionally?

All the times I have listened to you talk about your ex and the things that he did, sometimes you act is if you're the only person to have ever dealt with an abusive ex.  You know that I left WT because I wanted to get clean, but that's only part of the story.  I have never told my mother or best friend of almost 25 years the whole story.  The abuse didn't start until the last year of our relationship. The final straw came when he beat me so severely that I had a miscarriage.  I never even knew I was pregnant.  Of this I am ashamed. Not because he beat me but because I stayed.  I have since vowed that it will NEVER happen again.

Yesterday when were talking & you told me exactly how many pills you had available, how was I supposed to feel? What was I supposed to say?  You tell me things like this and I'm not sure what you want me to say or do.  Do you want me to tell you about the time last June I sat in the middle of my bed, with my .44 in my mouth, with the hammer cocked & finger on the trigger?  Do you want me to tell you that the only thing that stopped me from pulling the trigger was my niece walking through the front door & hollering, "Where are you Aunt Shanny"?  Why haven't I told you about this?  Is it because I am ashamed?  No.  I haven't talked about it because it's in the past.  I put it behind me & I've moved on with my life.

A couple weeks ago when I went out with my skirt wearing friend, instead of being happy that I went out and had a great weekend, you made me feel shitty because I wasn't there to answer the phone to try & make you feel better.  I know you jumped to the conclusion that we had sex but FYI, we've never slept together. Well we did share the same bed but that's as far as it ever has & ever will go. Why?  Because he's gay.  Although you may not have realized it you even made me feel bad for seeing my FWB in NC.  Sometimes I don't tell you things because in some way you'll make me feel bad for trying to have a life.

Why don't I ever talk about these things?  What good would it accomplish?  I talk to my therapist two sometimes 3 times a month.  Rehashing it with everyone is not something that I feel I need to do.  It took me years to realize I can't deal with my bipolar issues without help.  As much as I hate it, I am taking medication for it.  Granted it's an extremely low dose but it works for me & doesn't make me feel like a zombie.  My highs aren't too high & my lows aren't too low. I refuse to left my fucked up brain chemistry define who I am.  Some days it feels like you let your illness & depression define who you are & run your life.


Some days, like yesterday, being physically drained & not really feeling all that great emotionally, I just couldn't deal with the whole woe is me thing.  I'm sorry I yelled.  I shouldn't have.  Sometimes I feel as though you expect me to have some magic words to make everything better.  I don't.  If I did, I could fix us both.  I don't know how much damage I've done to our friendship by posting this but no matter what I'm not saying these things to be mean.  I just had some things to say.  To use the old packing a suitcase analogy, I'd packed and packed till no more would fit in & it all came flying out in just a few words.  Once again, I'm sorry.

Love,
Me

Just so you know, asspickle is my new favorite word. I'm not sure where the word originated but I'm giving @OrigCheese credit since she brought to my attention.

Ok, on to my regularly scheduled tale.

A couple weeks ago my favorite Scotsman let me know that he would be arriving last Friday and to pick him up at the airport. Luckily he actually gave me more than 30 minutes notice this time.

On Thursday I get an email telling me that I will have to surrender my phone at the airport, not to be returned until Monday. Then Friday morning I get another email telling me to pack a bag with an outfit appropriate for a nice dinner & an outfit suitable for going to a bar.

I'm not real big on surprises and was thinking I may have to kick some Scottish ass. But being the nice person I am (stop laughing fuckers) , I decided to play along.

Upon arrival at the airport I was told we were going to his brother's house. I'm thinking, "You wanted me to pack a bag so we could out with your brother and his shrew wife? You are such a dead man. " But it turned out we were only there to borrow his brother's plane. Not a fan of flying in general, I was sure we were going to die in this plane. I remember what it looked like when he bought and am still not thoroughly convinced on his brother's mechanical ability. But alas I survived to tell the tale.

First stop was St. Louis for dinner and refueling. We went to the Sidney Street Cafe. Two words, fucking awesome. That and I'm glad he was paying. ;)

Second stop was Fort Worth, where he totally made up for an asspickleishness by taking me to see Hank 3. Oh. Em. Gee. Unfortunately I have no pictures because the bastard wouldn't give me my phone back & I had no other camera. For this he must suffer.

All in all it was an awesome weekend. Even though he did tell me that used up my allotment of birthday and Christmas presents for the next 20 years. Yeah right.

In case you're wondering, yes I made him wear his skirt. If I had to wear one, so did he. ;)

I think this may become a regular kinda thing.  As many of you know, I'm a sarcastic, bitchy smart ass.  My witticisms aren't limited to just my friends, I've been known to just let them fly.  Lots of times at inappropriate times.  I mean a lot.  Maybe even alot.

This particular tale takes place about 2001 when I was just a mere greenhorn of a truck driver.  I got pulled over for speeding & passing in the third lane, which in NC is a big no, no. After the inspection the officer & I were having a little chat.

Trooper:  Do you have any explanation for why you were doing 75 in a 65 & in the 3rd lane?

Me: *scuffs ground* Well, actually I do.

Trooper: Oh really.  I gotta hear this.

Me:  Last week I was abducted by aliens & they implanted this thing in my brain & sometimes it malfunctions.

Trooper: *fighting the giggles*  What causes it to malfunction?

Me:  Lack of caffeine.  Because you know even alien technology isn't perfect.

Trooper: *no longer trying to hold laughter in*  You know, I've been a trooper for 10 years and I can honestly say that's the first time anyone has used alien abduction as an excuse for speeding.  Today is your lucky day, you get points for creativity.

In the end all I got was a ticket for not wearing my seat belt.  Mom always said my smart mouth would get me  nowhere.  She was wrong.

So stay tuned for further tales of Me & My Smart Mouth. :)

There are some drivers out there that get nervous if they have to venture more than 5 miles off the interstate, but I'm one that really enjoys a good stretch of two lane road. The less traffic the better in my opinion.  I thought I would show some pictures of a recent trip to Ririe Dam in Ririe, ID.  Unfortunately most of my pictures didn't turn out due to the cloudiness of the day & the rest have a reflection of my notebook in the windshield.  Derp.  But I did manage to pull a few good ones out of my ass.

I've been going back and forth trying to decide how much to tell. I think I've finally made up my mind.

As some of you know, a couple weeks ago I was given a lecture by my maternal unit on the perils of sleeping with a married man, then proceeded to tell the family blabbermouth. So then it was a whole family affair. No pun intended. She does all this the day before the family reunion. I love my family, we don't do anything half assed.

I was able to stop and visit an old friend Jim (not his real name) on my way to SC recently. Him and his wife Jaime (not her real name either), after 7 years of marriage are seperated and getting divorced.

A little background. I've known Jim for over 9 years. We met when he was still driving a truck. We went from a one night stand to a friends with benefits situation, hooking up whenever. No strings attached. One summer I took my vacation in New England and Jim offered to let me stay, we hooked up again. After several long talks over that week, he was looking to take the relationship to the next level. At the tender age of 29, I was not. I was a mess because an ex decided to rear his ugly head and that dredged up a lot of shit. So we agreed to keep things the way they were.

Then he met Jaime. A year later they got married. We continued to get together, with Jaime's blessing. She believed what happened on the road stayed on the road. But by this time I had switched companies and wasn't running the east coast nearly as often. A couple years later they move to NC, and he comes off the road and opens a small engine repair shop. Our hooking up came to an end. We still talked frequently.

Then a few weeks ago I got a phone call from both Jim and Jaime telling me they were seperating. I did what any friend would do and listened and gave advice.

Entirely by coincidence the load to SC came up. Even if nothing had happened I would have taken the load, just because I hadn't seen them in almost 4 yrs. But it happened that Jaime had flown back north to visit her sister for the weekend. We even talked while I was there. The conversation went something like this.

*phone rings

*Jim banging around in garage -

Jim - *hollering* Will you awnser the phone?

Me - *sarcasticly* Yes dear.

Me - picks up phone & recognizes Jaime's cell - Jones residence, Jim's fuck puppet speaking, how may I help you?

Jaime - Hey Shannon, how's it going?

Me - Not bad.

*20 min of girl talk*

Jaime - By the way, you didn't fuck in my bed did you?

Me - Ewww no. But I would rethink eating at the dinner table, the kitchen counter, the couch, the washer.

Jaime - Ha. I'd like to see you get on top of the washer with the dryer there.

Me - The top of the dryer is REALLY clean.

We shoot the shit for a few more minutes then I give the phone to Jim. He gets off the phone and we continue with our plans for the rest of the day.

Early Monday morning I take off for SC. I make an innocuous comment on FB about how nice FWB's are, no names, nothing. My mother connects that with a post I'd made the week before about going to see a newly single old friend. Combine that with where my load was going and she managed to add it all together. I swear Sherlock Holmes has nothing on my mother.

So she proceeds with the lecture, the whole family finds out all the day before the reunion. My family falls into 2 categories, religious & judgmental and just plain self rightous & judgmental. It makes for interesting reunions if nothing else.

I head home totally prepared for the worst. On my way home I get a text from my cousin. The whole fam knows. Thanks for really fucking up. Now they won't be on me about the baby out of wedlock thing. Love, S

So I arrive, get my plate and large margarita and head for the corner with my cousin S. We start talking & whatnot, then after about 45 min my uncle comes and sits down.

Uncle - You know Shannon, if you could just see to find your back to the Church......

Me - *stands up* OK everyone, may I have your attention please, because I'm only going to say this once. No matter who I am fucking, married or not, is none of y'alls damn business.

Now just picture about 30 people sitting their with the look of 'oh my god I can't believe she said that'.

This is the point where me & my cousins S & H all go to the strip club and say fuck the family reunion.

So all in all it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. Our imaginations can be our own worst enemy in cases like this.

Earlier today I was listening to a driver bitch about how he would much rather be doing anything other than driving a truck for a living. To this I say, "Well fucking quit".

Every day I hear more and more drivers say that they don't like driving a truck. Then why the fuck are you out here? If you're out here not liking what you are doing, then quit and do something you enjoy. Because when you're out here in control of 80,000 lbs rolling down the highway at 60+ MPH, not liking what you do, you become a hazard. You start not caring about the little things, like the the way you present yourself to customers and cashiers. Then you start not caring about the bigger things like you're driving habits.

But you're thinking, well everyone has bad days and occasionally pulls a bonehead move. I agree and I'm no different. But I see WAY too many drivers not caring every day for everyone to be having a bad day. Let's face it, there are a lot of people that have no business behind the wheel of a truck. Some people just weren't meant to be truckers. It's not a job, it's a lifestyle and some people just can't cut the muster.

So if you're one of these people that aren't enjoying what you are doing or you just don't care about how you are perceived than do the rest of us a favor and JUST FUCKING QUIT ALREADY.

It never ceases to amaze me at the lack of brain power by so called professional drivers. The other day while coming across Wyoming there seemed to be an over abundance of it.

For those that don't know the area between Cheyenne & Laramie is especially prone to high winds & blowing snow, the other day was no exception. Everything was moving along at a nice 45 MPH until we reached Happy Jack Road, where everyone seemed to suffer from severe & potentially life threatening cranial rectal inversions en masse. Everyone slowed down to a break neck speed of 15 MPH. Of course this means you now have a 5 mile long convoy of trucks going down a 5% grade so close to each other you couldn't fit a car in between them.

So I, realizing the stupidity of this jumped in the left lane to get as far away from the stupidity as possible because it must be catching. Because this is the only explanation I have for this kind of behavior. Not a mile into my attempt to escape, at an oh so speedy 30 MPH, a Prime truck jumps in the lane in front me at the slighty less stupid speed of 18 MPH. Seriously, what the holy ever loving fuck is wrong with drivers today?

Listening to the CB the whole time, I listened to drivers calling me reckless & stupid for passing on such bad roads going downhill. REALLY?!?!!!!eleventy!!1!!?11! No one said a word about the driver that jumped in front of me, going much slower than I & thus risking an accident but as soon as I said something to him for being a monumental idiot of gargantuan proportions, I was the bad person. OK, so maybe what I actually called him was a dumbass, inbred, cock sucking, steering wheel holder but you get the point. ;)

Whenever I see such dangerous & idiotic behavior by my fellow drivers it hurts my heart. (Yes fuckers I have one, contrary to popular belief.) It makes me wonder about the future of the industry I love. I see so many drivers that don't like what they are doing & don't seem to care about the image they portray to the public. Then on all to rare occasions I see someone that gives me hope & maybe this industry isn't totally doomed.

Here are prime examples of how & where not to park your truck. Although sometimes convienient isn't always best. ;)

All of these were taken near Walcott, IA yesterday.

Nothing to see here. Just testing blogger for android.