The Petite Young Blonde Blistered and Toenail-less or The PYB Does the Susan B. Koman 3-Day for the Cure

A few years ago La Petite Soeur (LPS) called the PYB to see if she wanted to join her and a group in her gym for the 3-Day Walk in October in Atlanta.  The entry fee was a $2,500 donation per person so the PYB got to work writing letters to friends and family for assistance. And training! A person doesn’t just get off the couch and walk 60 miles, you know.  For those of you who are unaware, and surely you must have been in a coma, the Susan B Koman Foundation raises money for breast cancer research and awareness. Their biggest fundraiser is the series of 60 mile in 3 days walks they have in major cities across the United States.

The group LPS joined was made up of trainers from a gym she belonged to and some of their clients; perhaps about 10-12 people in all.  They planned fundraisers to help raise the money for the walk by organizing a children’s fun day, a square dance and a wine tasting/auction (which was the most successful and the most fun).  The PYB couldn’t train with the gym group because of distance, they were about an hour away, so she spent a lot of time on the Silver Comet Trail.  That was her downfall – no hills, but she’ll get to that a bit later.

Preparation was a must! So she read the 3-Day website and testimonials from other walkers and bought the “right” shoes, Glide for friction, the fanny pack, the socks, the Under Armour shorts, air pump and inflatable mattress, etc.  She also signed the waiver that stated, “You may die during the course of this walk.”  She paused for about a second or two and continued on.  The instructions also said no iPods.  NO IPODS???  The PYB could not possibly walk without her music. If caught wearing headphones while walking would mean immediate expulsion from the walk; it was a safety precaution.  Annoyance? Yes. Game changer? No. If women could go through chemo and radiation surely she could go three days without her iPod – no place to charge it any way. 

So training continued, fund raising continued and the money began coming in.  Some of you reading this may have been contributors for which the PYB still thanks you.  Every bit counted from the quarters given by kids at the children’s fun day to the checks for $10, $15, $50 & $100 from family, friends and even strangers.  The PYB was truly overwhelmed by the generosity.  She had several people she was walking for: Aunt Mari, Wanda S, Connie B, Gwen C, and indirectly for The Mama, Jack, Grandpa, Guy, Linda S, and Cheryl W.  Cancer really pisses off the PYB.

Day One

The day of the walk finally arrived. The PYB barely slept the night before, but the adrenaline was pretty intense.  She had spent the night with LPS and they drove over to the starting point at North Point Mall with all their equipment: overnight bags, air mattress, pump, water bottles, blankets, etc.  An incredible number of volunteers were on hand and it ran like clockwork.  Truly amazing organization! The PYB & LPS took their overnight bags, mattress and pump to the appropriate trailer, picked up their badges and other goodies to decorate their hats.  Did she mention it was cold? A very brisk morning, but she didn’t bring a jacket as the day promised to be an Indian Summer kind of October day.  So she shivered in the morning chill but the opening ceremonies got them moving.  It was announced the first day would be 18 miles.  As they began walking, she thought to herself, “What I have I gotten myself into?”  Remember she had had only a few hours of sleep.  So, slathered down with Glide on her bra line, inner thighs and feet, they were off and there was no turning back.

The organizers of the 3-Day are sincerely genius level individuals.  About every 3 miles there’s a rest stop with a gazillion port-a-potties, a medic tent, water/Powerade stations, and high energy snack tents.  She has to say, that the port-a-potties were the absolute cleanest she had ever been in….hmmm….maybe it’s because mostly women were using them? Yes, there were men in the walk (one without legs, mind you), but the women outnumbered them perhaps 15 to 1.  The organizers are serious about fluid intake; they stated that if a walker wasn’t peeing every hour they weren’t drinking enough.  The PYB was taking NO chances and was going through water bottle after water bottle.  No dehydration worries here!

It was fun to see the other walkers’ outfits.  Most came to walk in a group like the PYB did and a lot of them had matching shirts and hats: Save the Tatas, Operation TaTas, Breast Man Walking, Professional Street Walker, Nurses for Knockers to name a few or simply the name of the person for whom they’re walking. And pink; lots of pink: tutus, rabbit ears, tshirts, shorts, feather boas, and hats adorned with buttons and pins. It’s definitely an occasion when a man can be very comfortable sporting the color pink.

Along the route there are volunteers on bicycles, motorcycles and vans; all decorated, of course. These volunteers provide encouragement, safety at crosswalks, and help in case one finds themselves in trouble. Or if you simply want to stop for the day you can hop on a van and they’ll take you to a bus that will transport you back to camp.  Yes, she said camp. As in tents.

Most of the route was contained to Gwinnett county with maybe the walkers touching the fringes of Fulton county.  May the PYB just say that Gwinnett is FULL OF HILLS.  Lord, they were about to kill her.  The first few hours went really well; the team stuck together for most of the day. Plenty of food and water was provided, but, yes walking 18 miles was pretty difficult. She was worried about her feet blistering, but that wasn’t an issue. Her thighs, on the other hand, were screaming.  The PYB did train prior to the event, but not as much as she had hoped to because she was down for the count with a back injury for about a month and a half.  However, once she was mobile again she worked up to seven miles, but that was it. Eighteen miles was definitely a challenge.  With the required stops it took the PYB about 8 hours to complete the first day.  Man, was she pooped!

Although some of the adrenaline had worn off it was pretty exhilarating to make it back to camp…to find that she and the LPS had to erect their TENT for the night. It was lying there on the ground in a bag at their assigned spot looking all innocent. How hard could it be? But, really. They had just walked 18 miles and their legs could barely hold them up any more and they STILL had to walk to the dinner tent.  So, fine, they could do this…after all they did just walk 18 miles and who knew they had that in them??  They dumped the tent parts out onto the grass and just stood there looking at all the poles and canvas and stakes. All those pieces looked as foreign to them as a calculus formula.  After a very frustrating 20 minutes of getting nowhere the Boy Scouts finally arrived and had that puppy up in about three minutes flat. Thank you, boys!  Off to dinner!

Since they were too tired for the nightly entertainment the PYB and LPS went back to their tent to blow up the mattress, get their overnight bags and hit the showers.  As it turned out the mattress just fit in the tiny tent so the overnight bags were going to have to stay outside. The portable showers and potties, located on the other side of an arched footbridge, were a bit weak, but nothing felt so good as it…unless it was a cushy hotel room with a spa tub.  

By that time it was getting dark and cold. They were beat. So LPS climbed into the tent first and then the PYB. Apparently, they didn’t inflate the mattress completely because when the PYB climbed onto the mattress it nearly bounced the LPS right off! When the LPS rolled back on The PYB was tossed to the other side.  And it didn’t help that they were laughing hysterically because they could barely move in all the clothing they had to put on due to the dip in temperature. 

It didn’t take too long to get settled in and start to fall asleep…except from the moaning and groaning as muscles tried to relax. It was going to be a very early morning and another 18 miles; sleep was a necessity.  Unfortunately, so was going to the bathroom…curses! It was about 2am, colder, and good walk to the Potty Patch.  So, the PYB carefully climbed out of the sleeping bad (ouch) trying not to disturb the LPS (ouch).  On with the shoes (ouch) and tried to find the path leading to the bathrooms.  She found her way and hit the footbridge only to fall flat on her ass (OUCH!). You’ve seen the signs, “Warning! Bridge ices faster than roadway,” well, it’s true. There was actually frost on the bridge! She didn’t realize it was getting that cold! She carefully went up and then down as there was an arch in it she finally made it to the Potty Patch and did her thing  - in the dark; she forgot the flashlight.  Upon coming out she also realized she was not wearing her glasses. Just damn.  How she made it over to the Pottie Patch she really doesn’t know. Instinct, need, pure damn luck? There were some free standing lights, but not a lot.  First, make it to the bridge…do not land in the creek! Over bridge, taking shuffling baby steps, across the field to the tents.  The tents. ALL THOSE TENTS. Where the hell was hers?  NOOOOOO!!!!  Why didn’t she put on her glasses? Why didn’t they decorate theirs?! Curse word, curse word, curse word!  What aisle were they on? Come on, think…..

“LPS….LPS…” in a very loud whisper….walk, walk, walk, squint, squint, squint… “LPS! LPS!”

This was not working. All she needed was to crawl into someone else’s tent by mistake.

Blast it. After wandering down aisle after aisle for about 8 minutes squinting to see if she could determine one tent from another she finally spotted their overnight bags outside their tent. Success! So off with the shoes (ouch) and carefully into the sleeping bag (ouch) and the LPS promptly gets knocked off the mattress and rolls into the side of the tent.  It was going to be a long night.

Day Two:

Every muscle felt like it had seized up on her when she awoke a few hours later.  The LPS wasn’t doing much better either.  The PYB had not been as aware of her quads as she was that morning.  They were mad at her and had no problem relaying that message. They opened the tent flap to find that their bags were covered in, not just frost, but ice. Yes, it had rained during the night. Yay! Cold and wet clothes! Fortunately their shoes had been in the tent.  Thanks goodness they had rain ponchos, too.  So, it was going to be a challenging day that was made apparent.  And it was.

The PYB decided to take her second pair of shoes since it was going to be a wet day. It never just really poured, but it was enough to keep her feet wet and her poncho steamy underneath.  And if she thought the hills were bad the first day she was in for a rude awakening on day two. It wasn’t so much the climbing up the hills any more; there’s a zone one can find within oneself to deal with that. What was problematic was walking down. That causes friction on the toes and if you have ever thought about it your toes kind of stick up as you walk down a hill, at least the PYB’s did on that walk.  Combine that with wet shoes and socks and you have major feet issues!  Pain, lots of pain!! She hit every medic tent to reapply Nuskin and band-aids to her blossoming blisters.  She continually slathered Vaseline petroleum jelly on her petites pieds and added half a shoe full of powder. About half way through the day she ditched the shoes she started out in and put on the ones she wore the day before along with some dry socks. That helped but she definitely was walking with a different gait than she normally would to avoid putting pressure on some of her tender spots.  It was sort of a lurching stride but on the outside of her feet; the kind of walk that might scare small children and animals. 

(She was going to insert some pictures of blistered feet here, but, frankly, they were too disgusting)

That night she waited about an hour after dinner to have her appendages that used to be feet looked at by the medics. The entire ball of her right foot was blistered so that sac of liquid was lanced along with the ones on that covered the entire backs of her heels. By that night a lot of folks were hobbling around.  Couldn’t go barefoot because she didn’t want to get dirt in her wounds, but it also hurt to wear shoes. Crawling was out of the question; that would just look stupid. She had downed about 10 Motrin tablets to help with the increasingly sharp muscle pain throughout the day. She was barely interested in food or a shower and only wanted to go to sleep.  Later in the middle of that second night, she remembered her glasses on the way to the Pottie Patch.  She wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

Day Three

It was finally the last day of the walk and the mileage to shuffle was the highest of the three days. To cut to the chase, she didn’t make the entire walk. She made it about 10 miles and was transported the last ten. By then her toenails on her big toes were kind of, well, moving around….three of her nubby toenails had already slid off, and must have fallen out of her socks when sitting down with the medics.  Honestly, she felt pretty sorry about not completing the walk; almost like a loser.  However, she truly couldn’t go any further. Remember the giant blister on the ball of her right foot? Completely messed up and the skin had started to come off leaving a nice, red, raw patch that felt like red hot pokers were being inserted with every step. It just wasn’t gonna happen any longer.  Her feet were toast.

The incredible part of the entire 3 days was the other walkers, the volunteers, the “sideline” supporters cheering everyone on.  Every arrival to a rest stop or a crosswalk was greeted with clapping and cheering.  People lined the streets to clap and cheer and/or pass out snacks, buttons, beads, etc (no one has cheered or applauded her arrival since).

The whole event was a feel-good situation.  Great people, great cause.  That was the purpose. The PYB desperately hopes her Petites Jeunes Filles Bruns will never have to face breast cancer or any cancer for that matter and if a few blisters and some missing toenails helps the cause then it was well worth it.

For more information please visit: http://www.the3day.org/site/PageServer 

And LADIES:

 

The Petite Young Blonde Goes Retro

 You know how the PYB LOVES her music......

And this is WRONG in SO many ways!

"How the PYB's Steam of Consciousness Went From Zit to Church While Looking In the Bathroom Mirror"

Due to circumstances beyond her control the Petite Young Blonde will have to cancel her social engagements for the next five days.  You see, she has a ginormous, ugly, red zit directly about the dimple in her chin.  You simply can't miss it.  It's the ONLY thing a person will notice about her in spite of her awesome glasses and blue eyes. And just damn; it's about time for this kind of crap to stop already! It's like the finger of God burned a mass of flesh right there on her face.....

......you know the story about chin dimples don't you?  The PYB learned of this story at the impressionable young age of eight. She remembers it quite clearly. The story unfolded on the barren playground (read "parking lot") of Roquemore Elementary in Dallas, TX.  An evil child, who will be called Belinda because that was her name, told the very young PYB that when she, Belinda, was born God pinched her cheeks and said, "Aren't you precious!" thereby creating her incredibly deep (and precious) dimples.  Evil Belinda then proceeded to explain to the PYB that God created her chin dimple by pressing his finger into her chin and saying, "Go away!"  The very young PYB was horrified and yelled, "He did not!" and ran away.  Deep cheek dimples do not belong on vicious little girls....


......she realized that this was the same evil girl who told her, in a whisper, again on the barren playground, that the girls who sit on the curb during recess with their head tucked all the way inside their winter coats so they look like headless bodies, do so because they like to smell their "girl parts." Smell their girl parts??

What was the evil girl talking about??
The young PYB knew darn well that the girls had their heads inside their coats because they were sent to play in a parking lot in northern Texas in the winter and the freaking wind NEVER stopped blowing.  Those poor girls were just plain COLD.  Belinda was evil incarnate and the young PYB didn't have much to do with her after the dimple incident.....

.....but she didn't really know about the whole God's Finger In the Chin explanation either because she didn't go to church growing up unless she was in Konawa, OK with her Nana and Papa. Maybe the Bible did have the God's Finger In the Chin story? All she learned from the little churching that she had was that God was always angry when she sinned her little girl sins like dumping baby powder on her baby sister's face while she slept in the crib.  He also didn't like music in the church; oh, singing was fine, but no instruments.  He was to be "feared."  That didn't make much sense to her but if the preacher said so maybe God did poke his powerful finger in her chin and tell her to "Go away.".....

.....the church she'd like to visit is Sister Louisa's Church of the Living Room and Ping Pong Emporium located in Atlanta.  Music! Cheap sangria and hot dogs!  That sounds like her kind of place! She's guessing the proprietor wouldn't poke his finger at her and yell, "Go away!" either....

.....however, everything must wait until this monstrosity of a zit on her chin goes away.  Now, where's the blasted Clearasil?

The Petite Young Blonde Does the Bossa Nova

As some of you know The Petite Young Blonde enjoys making a parody of art, albums and celebrities.  Here's her spin on old Bossa Nova album covers. And, as usual, she cracked herself up! There's more where this came from in her photo albums on her Facebook page; peruse and enjoy!

The Petite Young Blonde on the Day of Graduation

The Petite Young Blonde had une petite jeune fille brunette who was a senior in high school and graduation was a mere day away. The PJFB had worked so hard and had a great life waiting for her on the other side of high school.

On the Day Before Graduation it was decided that instead of eating out in a restaurant the family would come back to the house for a cookout. The family included the PYB’s father, sister, brother-in-law, three nieces and, wait, what was that? PJFB’s boyfriend’s family is coming over, too? With their elderly neighbor? Okay, then, why not.

Background: the boyfriend, who will be affectionately named The Mormon, was PJFB’s second boyfriend, and first prom date. The PYB had next to no experience with the Mormon religion except for being a Donny Osmond fanatic in elementary school and the few times the young ones would come to the house hoping for a conversion. All she really knew was that they didn’t drink Coke and that would suck. The Mormon had not see an R rated movie prior to meeting PJFB and probably not had been in as much trouble as he found himself in after dating PJFB. Since meeting the Mormon the PYB has educated herself on that particular religion….and enough has been said about that.

The Mormon’s mother is from another country and her English isn’t bad, but she spoke with a fairly heavy accent. The PYB was apparently having a hard time explaining over the phone what was happening for dinner, “bring your own steaks or whatever meat you’d like to grill.” So on the Day Before Graduation the Mormon's mom stopped by with a bean salad. So armed with a credit card the PYB headed to Patak’s Meat Market.

Once back from Patak’s a massive cleaning spree ensued, steaks were tenderized, veggies were marinated, wine was refrigerated…no, scratch the wine, Mormons don’t drink, Daddy doesn’t drink, sister and family don’t drink…the PYB considered starting by herself right then. Little did she know how much she was going to need it later.

Not only was it the Day Before Graduation it was also the Day Before the Next Harry Potter Movie. The PJFB grew up with Harry Potter. She had read the series many times and her Boston cousins and sister even made their own HP movie over the course of several summers. Not being at the midnight showing was NOT an option. They had purchased their tickets at least three weeks in advance. So at about 7:00pm on the Day Before Graduation, the PJFB and her friends piled into a car and went to the theater in Douglasville. No, the PYB wasn’t nervous at all about that (ha).

She tried, but the PYB could not wait up for her. The HH (hunky husband with the 6-pack abs) had already crashed and burned so she did the same. The PYB has some trouble sleeping at times and is a very light sleeper in general, so when the pounding on the door started she was up in a flash. Believing that it was the PJFB and she had forgotten her key the PYB came flying down the hall in the type of panic and disorientation one has when woken up in the middle of sleep to an unfamiliar and scary noise. She flung open the door and….

Background: the front door has a screen door, too. Being that the PYB has two cats living there most of the time the door has the heavy duty, cat proof kind of screen and therefore, it is very dark. In fact, in the dark without the porch light on there’s no way to see who is on the other side of the door standing on the porch.

…. couldn’t see her petite jeune fille brunette on the other side.

Background: the PYB sleeps in t-shirts and underwear - yeah, real sexy, but true. And when running through the house at top speed to the sound of banging on the front door, she didn’t take time to put on her eyeglasses, pants or robe. Oh, and the names have changed to protect the weird.

“Is Job here?” female voice.
“WHO???” squinting through the screen realizing it’s not the PJFB.
“Is our son here?” male voice.
“WHO???”
“His truck is in your driveway,” male voice.
“WHAT TRUCK??? Oh, you mean Tom? No, he’s at the movies with the PJFB.” (His friends called him Tom and the PYB never knew that his first name was Job and that’s what his family called him). It was really confusing at the time not to mention disorienting.

That’s when the PYB was finally aware she is standing in her t-shirt and underwear in front of The Mormon’s parents.

“Wait here; I’ll be right back.”

She turns around with her granny panties waving at the Mormons x2 and runs back through the house. She hisses at the HH, “Get up, get up! The Mormon’s parents are here and I’m not going to entertain them by myself.” She stumbles around to find her glasses, pajama bottoms and robe then goes back to let in the other parents.

It was about 1:45am. The movie began at midnight. It was almost a three-hour movie. Douglasville was 15 miles away. The PYB figured there was about another lifetime until the kids were going to be back. What to do? Make coffee? Guess not – there was that caffeine thing and the big day tomorrow, no it’s today! The Day of Graduation is here! Offer nothing…maybe they’ll go home, but no, looks like they’re getting really comfortable and are in for the long haul. Probably should have stayed in t-shirt and panties…that would have made them uncomfortable…would have left or at least waited in their car…no, that’s rude, but so is barging into the house at 1 FREAKING 45am thinking the PJFB is further corrupting their son…okay, okay, be nice, these folks are coming back over in about sixteen hours expecting steak.

Apparently, the MPs (Mormon Parents or Military Police), had gone to the theater to look for their son, but it was closed and all the cars were gone from the parking lot. That frazzled the PYB who started thinking the worst. The teenage friend who was driving didn’t exactly have the best driving record, but then again, the movie shouldn’t have been over….but why was the theater closed and all the cars gone…and why did the MPs drive all the way to Douglasville to check on their son???

“He’s not answering his phone,” the dad said.

“It’s probably turned off,” the PYB replied. “They usually do that in a movie theater.” But, the PYB followed suit and tried calling the teen aged driver & PJFB. She was now starting to worry because of what the MPs had said about the theater, so she checked the times on her laptop and the movie was over around 2:50am. Explaining this she suddenly realized something.

“Which theater did you go to?”
“The Hiram Theater.”
“That’s not where they are. The movie is at Arbor Place Mall.”
“Tom didn’t tell us that.” Oh boy, this was NOT going to be pretty.

Okay, so now everyone was on the same page. They could go home now. But they didn’t. The MPs settled in deeper in couch to wait…were they for real??

“So, anyone want a Coke?”

Small talk ensued and it was worse than torture. The PYB was so tired and had a big day ahead. There was virtually nothing in common between the two sets of parents except for the fact they both had children graduating that day; complete opposite ends of the personality spectrum. It was suggested by the MPs that the families get together and go camping in the summer…and oh, hell no! If sitting for two hours waiting for kids felt like a slow death there was no way the PYB and HH could stand an entire weekend in the middle of nowhere with the MPs. The conversation on the Day of Graduation was stilted and awkward enough! If the MPs were thinking of a “conversion weekend” they could just go sit in the woods by themselves.

The PYB and HH were finally rescued by the sound of slamming car doors and the kids clamored onto the porch and came in. The Mormon surely knew he was in deep shit when he saw his parents’ car in the driveway as he neglected, knowingly, to tell them which theater he was going to. His parents would not have allowed him to go to Douglasville and it had been hard enough for The Mormon to convince them to allow for a midnight movie according to the PJFB. Thank goodness the Harry Potter movie wasn’t rated R! So more awkwardness occurred as the MPs chewed him out in the living room. The PYB had the feeling it was going to be the last time the Mormon would be at her house….well, at least another 16 hours for dinner.

Background: The MPs were a source of frustration for PJFB. When at The Mormon’s house they are not allowed to be alone and the mom will come up with chores for The Mormon to do while she was there. Most of their time was spent at the PYB’s house where he was further debauched by the immoral and non-Mormon girlfriend who made him watch R rated movies and drink caffeinated soft drinks.

It was about 3:30am and these people needed to GO HOME.

“Well, it’s been fun – hey, why don’t we do this again tonight? Ha, ha!” bleh.

The PYB was finally able to go back to bed, but was up a very short few hours later to get the deux petites jeunes filles brunettes off to school. Her nerves were on edge for many reasons, but most of all from fatigue. However, on the Day of Graduation she felt grateful to have raised a daughter to the point of being a high school graduate and a college bound student. A milestone had definitely been passed; she was infinitely proud of her premiere petite jeune fille brunette and was feeling selfish about having to share the evening with the people who had kept her up so late.

The Petite Young Blonde and the Smellies

     The Petite Young Blonde would greatly appreciate if all the personal hygiene companies met and discussed  scent themes for their products.  Maybe there could be several new coordinated scents introduced per year.

     Why you ask? Yes, there are more important "stuff" to be concerned about, however, this is what hit her today as she was in the shower lathering her hair with Herbal Essence Totally Twisted Curls and Waves Shampoo and Conditioner with Lilac Infusion.  She then reached for the Nivea Touch of Bliss Apricot Blossom Scent with Fruit Essence body wash which was followed by Skintimate Moisturizing Creme Shave in a Soothing Petal fragrance. But wait, there's more! She finished off the shower with Olay Pore Defining Facial Scrub which at that point who knew if it had a smell; her nose had been inundated by a plethora of odors all ready.

     The after-shower routine only added to the scores of aromas.  Into her hair went the Pantene Curl Defining Scrunching Mousse and then the Pantene Classic Hair Spray.  That's what...three different smellies in her hair at that point?  The face needed some attention so she slapped on Olay eye cream and Olay Regenerist Micro Sculpting Cream.  No, even those two products didn't even smell the same. Other body parts were attended to with Suave Advanced Therapy Body Lotion and her hands love to be slathered with Nivea Original Moisture Daily Lotion.  Last, but not least, Sure Invisible Solid....Regular Scent.

     Good grief.  Oh wait! She forgot the final touch: Verscace Crystal Noir perfume.  That's a total of 11 different smellies.  She would like to know what the end result REALLY smells like, but by the end of the whole routine she can no longer tell.  Proof that all of this stuff needs some world-wide smell coordination. She'll be happy to head the research team.  While she's at it she'll work on shortening the names of the products as well.

     Then again, maybe none of this matters.   All the smellies probably cancel out each other anyway; maybe she just ends up smelling like the PYB: Lilac-Apricot-Blossom-Fruit-Essence-Petal-Pantenesque-Olayish-Nivea-Scented-Sauvy....Regular scent.

The Petite Young Blonde vs. the City of Kennesaw & the Georgia DMV

Part One

The Petite Young Blonde’s day started out like most others: she was running late. On this particular day there was nothing out of the ordinary on the drive to work except for the police car that was pulling out of the QT gas station behind the white Honda that was behind the PYB’s minivan. The PYB never likes having a police car behind her. One just never knew what they might do. She was almost going to make the light across the intersection of Pine Mountain and Hwy 41, but decided not to risk getting stopped by the Kennesaw Police; the light had already turned yellow. She waited patiently for her turn and was trying to decide on the Song of the Day…which one was it going to be? The leading contender up to that point was Elvis Costello’s “Tears Before Bedtime.” As it turned out the PYB’s Song of the Day was The Clash’s “Police On My Back.”

After the light turned green the PYB proceeded across the intersection and the white Honda turned right onto 41. That obviously put the Kennesaw Police car right behind the PYB. She consciously drove the speed limit into “downtown” Kennesaw, stopped at another light, turned right on Main Street and that’s when the flashing lights started. She made a mental list of why she could possibly be pulled over and had nothing. Except…maybe there’s an obscenity law in the City of Kennesaw and her “Feel Your Boobies – Tell A Friend” sticker was considered offensive.

She pulled into a dance academy parking lot, turned down Led Zeppelin on her iPod, turned off the car and started searching for her driver’s license and proof of insurance. Knowing that she couldn’t roll down her driver’s side window because it got stuck one day and her Amazing Mechanic Friend, the AMF, fixed it by taking out the motor, the PYB began hoping that her particular Kennesaw policeman wasn’t a skittish one who would draw his weapon when she opened the car door. She explained about the window and he gave an “aw-shucks” look. He looked about 12-years-old. He wasn’t very tall, had a Kennesaw Police knit cap on his head and his nose was red making the PYB decide she wasn’t his only take down this morning.

He went through the routine (yes, hard to believe that the PYB would know the routine, but she does). Not finding her insurance card he politely told her that was fine he can look it up on his computer and took her license. His car was parked behind her van with lights still flashing…how embarrassing! While he was doing his thing the PYB called her job and let them know she was going to be later than expected. The process seemed to be taking an eternity, which caused the PYB a bit of anxiety…

She glanced in the side mirror and noticed the blue & red lights had been turned off, thank goodness. Then she looked in the rearview mirror and no; the lights were still on…there’s another freaking police car! What the heck? The teenager came back to talk to the PYB and the other, bigger, burlier, taller, more menacing cop walked toward the van while looking it up and down and took up his post by the passenger side door. What did they think she had done? Were they expecting her to make a run for it? She had on pantyhose, a dress skirt and sensible shoes for crying out loud. Is his hand on his freaking holster?? What the hell?

“Ms. Blonde, m’am? Did you know your license has been suspended?”
“I. Ah. What? Why? Ah. Well. I. When? ?????????
“Yes, m’am. It was suspended 3 years ago.”
?????????????????????????????????????????? “OH!” The light bulb went on and she quickly tried to start explaining and he was kind enough to at least pretend he was listening.

Background: On July 3, 2007, the PYB and la Premiere Petite Jeune Fille were traveling back from Ohio. They were singing a Killers song at the top of their voices, and not very well, when that horrible, siren noise started up and seemed to be behind them in a split second. Yes, a ticket was given for speeding…that’s what good music can do to a driver on the long, boring road from Ohio to Georgia.

“Yes, m’am,” that kid in cop clothes said ever so polite, “it would be hard to reinstate it if no one told you to do that, but I’m still gonna have to keep your license. Now, I have two citations for you. One is for the brake lights and one for the suspended license. Will you please sign here and here? Do you have someone who can come pick you up?” Yes, no, maybe? “I have to go back and finish up this paperwork.” Just great. Fine. Fine. Fine. Little Teenage Cop, you are so gonna be in my story!

The PYB called her job again and asked if someone could please come and get her. Lynn was on her way.

“Oh, and m’am. Your car is parked on private property.”

So the PYB has no license, two tickets and an illegally parked car. Lynn picked her up and brought her to work and she called her best friend, #1TBF. #1TBF had her son’s car that day and agreed to pick her up and bring her back to Paulding County to work on the license issue. At least that’s what the 12-year-old cop said, to go to the county the driver’s license was issued in and do whatever.

Background: The PYB forgot to pay the speeding ticket from Tennessee. It was one of those, “call in ten days and we’ll tell you how much you owe” kind of thing. When the human memory capacity has hit the red zone and there’s no jump drive, thumb drive, or memory stick to back it up to, things are going to fall through the cracks. The PYB’s intention was to pay the fine prior to the court date, as she was NOT going back to Tennessee for a speeding ticket. In early January she received a notice stating that her license would be suspended if the ticket were not paid by whatever date. Oops, a few months late. Finding a credit card she dialed the number on the notice and paid for the ticket. “What happens now?” she asked. Tennessee would notify Georgia that the ticket was paid and rescind the suspension. Sweet! Stamp that OVER.

Not so over.

The PYB and #1TBF drove to the brand spankin’ new Paulding County facility only to find that Paulding doesn’t have a DMV, just a tag office. “Well, where do I go to fix this?” she asked the lady behind the glass. The lady couldn’t tell the PYB, which, she was finding out, was fairly typical. The PYB and the #1TBF decided to go the DMV in Cobb County so off they went burning up the #1TBF son’s gas.

Once at the Piedmont Village DMV located in Cobb the PYB explained the situation for the 3rd time that day and was told that,

“No, we can’t help you without proper id.”
“Well, right now a teenage cop has my id right now. I’ve got a KSU picture ID, a debit card, an insurance card….”
“I need either one thing from this list or two things from that list.”
Gee, the PYB thought to herself (because it’s just suicide to piss of the DMV Lady) I don’t carry around my birth certificate, my social security card or my passport, which is probably expired any way.
“I’ll do you a favor,” said DMV Lady. “Call this number and get your citation number and they will give you the phone number to call in Tennessee.”
Finally!! Someone who has part of an answer. Maybe. Perhaps. She hopes.

At that point the PYB and #1TBF decided it was time for some Chinese food. One can take only so much on a couple of low-fat, high fiber muffins. Once back at the office the PYB called the GA DMV, got the required information and placed a call to Tennessee.

“Sterner’s Hardware”
Without missing a beat the PYB launched into her story for the 4th time.
“M’am, I wish I could help you, but you’ve reached Sterner’s Hardware. You need the court. I’ve got their number – we get calls like this all the time.” Wow.

Truly unbelievable. The PYB tried the new number not expecting much by this time. Tennessee Helen answered the phone with a soft southern drawl and sympathetic ear and heard the PYB’s 5th recap of the day and looked up the information that could mean oh, so much to the PYB.

“Sure enough. You paid us in January of ’08 and we notified Georgia on March 12, 2008 that it was paid and to rescind the suspension.” Hot damn! Redeemed! Tennessee Helen promised to fax the information to the Piedmont Village DMV and would just need to go in and get another license. The PYB then called the City of Kennesaw, blah, blah, blah #6…no, she’d still have to go to court, and no, she couldn’t come in and pick up her original license. They wouldn’t have it until maybe next Monday and even then couldn’t guarantee they could give it to me. “But, that one had a really good picture on it…” Back to her job.

So, try as she may she couldn’t concentrate on work and just continued to get more and more frustrated over the whole scenario. One person’s negligence had wreaked havoc not only to the PYB’s day, but those of her co-workers, clients and friend. Just trying to organize rides to where she needs to be is so inconvenient to so many. AARRGGHHH. And, wait, WHAT’S THIS??? Looking closer to the two new citations did it actually say her hair was….BROWN? Oh, hell, no! Now she was really mad! That was the last damn straw!

As for the taillights her AMF came by her house and worked on the brake lights…no, not burned out, but bad connections were the culprit. His wife has the same van and the same problems. So any time she hits a pothole the PYB will have to make sure her brake lights still work. Maybe AMF should write a certified letter explaining the situation to the judge….hmm. That might help.

Tomorrow will consist of having #1TBF drive her to work, then she’ll walk to the DOL to give a presentation, walk back to work, and by that time #1TBF will be back from her seminar in downtown Atlanta and she can then drive the PYB to the DMV. She hopes it will all go smoothly. But, this is the PYB’s life, so who knows?? Part Two will post tomorrow.

How was YOUR day?

Part Two:

Trip to the DMV went well! Surprise! Three hours and three windows later the PYB is once again a licensed driver! Hurrah! However, the PYB is not happy with the picture - the other license was MUCH cuter, but then again, it was taken 15 years ago when the PYB was a mere babe and could date the teenage Kennesaw policeman.

Part three will be posted after the March 23rd court date. Stay tuned!

Part 3: The Petite Young Blonde vs. the City of Kennesaw

REFRESHER –

PYB has two traffic tickets to fight; no brake lights, suspended license.

The PYB's Day in Court, March 23, 2010

After dropping off the Petite Jeune Fille Brunette at school the PYB headed to her AMF (Awesome Mechanic Friend) to check the brake lights before heading to the courthouse.  It would not be cool to get yet another ticket for the same thing in the same area.  Yep, they’re out.  He replaces them again; the 2^nd time within a month which was completely consistent with the internet research the PYB found.  The base of the bulbs, which is black plastic, is melted – EVIDENCE! She is SO going to win today!

Back at home…what to wear, what to wear?  New blue linen dress with white cardigan. Yes. No. Too dowdy.  Is dowdy good for court?  Hmmm, no, red knit dress with black jacket.  That works. Red is powerful, strong, in charge! Did you know it has been scientifically proven that teams that wear red uniforms win more often? So, power dress, fake Spanx, panty hose, sensible shoes, conservative earrings.  Good to go.

The PYB arrived at the Kennesaw Courthouse at 1:40 for her 2:00 appointment.  The parking was a few blocks away so she found a spot and started the trek to the courthouse. Once she reached the entrance of the Courthouse she was turned away – no purses allowed?? Are they serious? No cell phones, no granola bars. Great. So she turned around and hiked back to the car to put it away.

           

Sidebar – Any smart criminal would stake out the offsite parking lot and

watch for people returning to their cars with their cell phones and handbags.

Good grief. Talk about the perfect set up!

The PYB heads back quickly to the courthouse and goes through security.  In her pockets she paws out her keys, light bulbs, and pen and puts them into the basket and walks though the metal detector.  Success! The giant security guard who looked like the football player in The Blind Side, we’ll call him Gentle Ben, looks at her with raised eyebrows.  “Light bulbs, m’am?”  “Evidence,” says the PYB, scoops them up and goes into the courtroom.

She finds a seat and takes inventory of her paperwork: tickets, brake bulb receipts, research from the internet regarding the problem with the brake lights, and…hold up! Where’s the letter from Tennessee Helen?? That was to resolve her of the suspended license! It must be in her purse! It’s now 1:55pm so she bolts out of the courtroom and races back to her car…again. Curses! Thinking she only has five more minutes she breaks out in a run in her dress, fake Spanx and pantyhose. Ah, warming up outside, nice.

Uphill, uphill, no bursitis flare up, not now….go go go go….five minutes, just five minutes! She got to the car rifles through her purse and finds the certified letter from Louden County, TN (oh, is that where she got the original ticket that has caused this mess?) and a half full water bottle that had been rolling around in the floor of the back seat for a week or so.  She starts back while drinking the who-knows-how-old-water and feels her big toe pop through her pantyhose.  Sure, why not?  At least she didn’t dump the water all ov…never mind.  At this time the line for the courthouse is out the door and down the sidewalk.  She finally reaches security, and yes, Gentle Ben, she’s coming through again with her light bulbs.

The court room has filled up considerably, but being that she likes to see and hear what’s going on she walks up to the 2^nd row and sits at the end next a man.  No, a woman.  Oh dear, this person does not smell good! Old, old, old nicotine smell, slightly sickly sweet, not good, not good.  Nicotine Lady turns around and says hello.  What teeth are left are pretty much black and then she launches into a deep, hacking cough.  This is not going to work, but then court is called to order and the PYB was stuck. Ugh.

The first cases called involved guys in handcuffs and orange jumpsuits.  Ummmm, excuse me, but being that they don’t actually have anywhere to go like back to work or to soccer practice could they not be saved for last? Just askin’. After about an hour of prisoner issues they worked on cases involving minors and/or those charged with drug possession.  The PYB was starting to wonder if she was in the right place.  One young girl, there with her mom, was asked if she could pass a drug test that day.  She was honest and said, “No.”  They gave her another one and, sure enough, she tested positive for cocaine.  Why her mother didn’t beat her to a pulp right then and there on the spot the PYB will never know.

After the drugged out kids the judge announces that he’ll try to have everyone out within eight hours.  WHAT???!! It was 4:00…was he kidding?  What happened to the 2:00 appointment?  Why wasn’t this explained when the PYB called the day before to confirm? “Oh, and btw, m’am; be sure to have a hearty breakfast and lunch and don’t forget to hydrate! It’s gonna be a long day into night.” That would have been good customer service.

At this time the judge turns the room over to the City Solicitor, Dr. Oz, who talks for awhile, blah, blah, blah, blah and then the judge comes back and gives a powerpoint slideshow about traffic court! The PYB is dying a thousand deaths.  Nicotine Lady’s smell is about to choke her and she starting to feel the beginning of a headache.  The traffic court in Cobb County was nowhere near this ridiculous!  Ah… so she had heard. Right. Yeah. Anyway…(the PYB has a heavy foot).

At this point, please allow the PYB to take a moment to  tell you about some of the characters in the courtroom.  You’ve met Nicotine Lady and Dr. Oz.  The PYB would like to introduce you to Porky Pig.  He was a cop who, bless his heart, truly looked like Porky Pig in a policeman’s uniform.  The other courtroom cop was pretty short, older, and balding with what was left of his hair slicked back…in other words, Christopher Walken.  The PYB was quite sure that if anything janky went down in that room these men were NOT going to be able to subdue anyone.  If he had to move quickly, Porky Pig’s gun would certainly get jammed in his ginormous love handles as they covered the holster of his gun.  Not trying to be mean, just the facts.  This being said at the first opportunity the PYB escaped the smell of Nicotine Lady and moved to the last row of seats at the end by the exit.  She would not be placing her life in the hands of Porky and Christopher Walken; she needed a getaway plan.  There was also a woman in a “Budweiser The King of Beers” embroidered jacket and the PYB was really hoping she wasn’t there for a DUI charge. As for the judge, he wasn’t a bad sort and he smiled a lot and tried to make a few jokes.  But, can he be charmed by the PYB?  Not sure about that yet.

After some no-contest cases the rest of us had to sign up to see Dr. Oz, the solicitor, to  review our cases.  Could this not have happened as we arrived?  The PYB’s name was 5^th to the last on the list, hurrah! It was proving to be a really long day.  The judge took a break, but the solicitor would continue his interviews and call names.  Ok. Phone in car, granola bar in car, wallet in car…the PYB needed to go to her car.  She stepped out and asked Gentle Ben about leaving the building.

            “But if I leave the solicitor will certainly call my name,” said the PYB.

            “What’s your name, m’am?” asked Gentle Ben.

            “PYB, of course.”

“Ok, I’ll listen for it and if he calls you I’ll make sure you get put back to the top of the list.”

Sure you will, she thought. I bet you say that to everyone.  But she had to go!

Thank God it wasn’t a rainy day! By this time the run in her pantyhose was creeping up over the top of her shoe.  As she walked back to her car she noticed that some parking spaces were opening up near the building so, knowing it would probably be dark, she moved the car closer.  She called the Hunky Husband to explain what was going on.

Back though security and, no, Gentle Ben said, her name had not been called.  She filled up the basket with her light bulbs, pen, keys, wallet and gum.  She hurried up to wait so more. It was now 5:30 and here come so more orange jumpsuits.  Really?

Now the probation hearings were starting.  Up next, Teenage White Trash Girl.  If you were in court because you messed up your probation and had to answer to it would you actually wear sweats?  This really pathetic child was a teenaged, unemployed, single mom, who was knocked up again, and she had to pass a drug test.  Her sister and father were with her and, come to find out, her dad had just finished a chemotherapy session that morning.  The poor man looked worn out and frazzled. He tried to explain his daughter’s actions to the judge who patiently listened.  Long story short, Teenage White Trash Girl failed her drug test.  Sobbing ensued and TWTG started pleading to the judge about her baby at home and her dad, and she had a lead on a job, etc. This is what the judge said and the PYB almost stood up and applauded,

“Why do you expect me to care about your family, who I don’t know, when you didn’t care about them when you were out getting high and breaking your probation?  They aren’t my family; they’re yours. You are doing drugs and you are PREGNANT.  It’s time to grow up.”

Her dad kept saying it was all his fault and that she was a wild child.  The judge said, no, she has to be responsible for her actions.  Wow. What a concept!  TWTG goes straight to jail, do not pass go, do not collect $200. 

Five minute break! Finally! So the PYB takes a trip to the water closet and wouldn’t you know it; the solicitor called her name to come in and see him. Blast it all. Her file goes back into the pile.  It’s now 6:30pm and her stomach is grumbling.  More sitting and waiting.

Her name was eventually called and she was to go into the lobby to sit in a different chair to wait.  This is where the PYB met Daniel Radcliff/Harry Potter, a KSU art student.  He was a very pleasant young man who plans on having his own comic book series.  He had just returned from a semester abroad in Italy.  HP provided the only intelligent conversation the PYB had had all day!  He was just as bored and climbing the walls as she was.

Dr. Oz calls her name to come discuss her tickets and the game was on. The PYB gathered all her papers and put on her brightest, most charming smile and breezed into his office. She felt she was at a disadvantage because it was getting late and he had been at this all day. Surely, he was tired of hearing people’s excuses and stories.  This could go completely wrong!

He started with the suspended license.  Right from the start they were not on the same page. He started talking continuance and she’s thinking, “Oh, hell no I am NOT coming back here again.”  He was talking $780 fine for driving with a suspended license and she was thinking, “Oh , hell no, I can’t pay that! That’s Atlanta Beat season ticket money!” She tried to start from the beginning to explain how it all happened, but he didn’t want to hear it.  She kept saying that no, it never WAS supposed to be suspended because the fine had been paid.  HE was telling her that she didn’t pay the $35 GA reinstatement fee so technically it was suspended, blah, blah, blah.  But what about the certified document from Tennessee Helen stating her fine had been satisfied, etc?? And this went on for at least ten minutes. Fortunately, the PYB had her canceled check from when she had the stimulating visit to the GA DMV to replace the license the 12-year old cop took from her.  She paid all of $5.00. 

“Oh,” said Dr. Oz, “looks like they waived the reinstatement fee. I’ll dismiss

this charge.”

Thank You Baby Jesus!! Beat tickets, yes!!

            “Now, about the brake lights…”

Dr. Oz was not the least bit interested in her light bulbs. Fine: $123.50. 

“So, has anyone ever told you you look like Dr. Oz?”

Back into the courtroom, go see the judge, yes brake lights out, whatever, let’s get out of here, go pay fine, no sign of Harry Potter, hope it worked out for him, get the heck out of this building!

The morals of this story are:

v    Drive carefully and slowly when in the City of Kennesaw. In fact, just avoid it if possible. The PYB has now has 5 tickets issued to her from the eager Kennesaw police force.

v    If you own a 2003 Chevy Venture start socking away money to pay for a ticket.

Your brakes light bulbs are probably melting at this very moment and you are

gonna get in trouble for something you have no control over.

v    Fake Spanx – not worth it.  Splurge for the real thing.