I Didn't Give A Weekly Update

Not a lot happened this week. I'm getting my hair done this afternoon. Thank God. I so need it. I have waited much, much too long to get it colored. It's just it's so expensive and I'm on this tight little budget and it's hard to think "okay, I need to save such and such amount this week so in three weeks I can get my hair colored". I had to wait for my bonus pay in order to afford it. And it has been months. And I have gray hair. And I look horrible. But that will be reconciled today. I'm so excited.

The talk at my work this week was my friend's daughter, Beth Westover, had a boxing match last night. It was a pretty big deal. She was on a few morning shows and they did an interview with her on the evening news. I didn't go, but I hope she won. They didn't have the results in the paper. She wasn't the big story. Cleveland Corder was the big story. Anyway, my friend was so nervous for her daughter. But she is the mom. The mom is always nervous about their little girls. Here's the story on her. She's so cute.

On the way home last night a woman in a black Chevy Impala SS (or whatever the new sporty looking one is) was riding my ass. I was already going 7 miles over the speed limit and everyone else was at a similar pace so it's not like I had options to speed up. Besides, I've had 3 speeding tickets already. (Or is it two. I don't know.) Anyway, they are finally not effecting my insurance anymore and if I were to get another one, Brian would be so annoyed. So, I wasn't going to speed anymore than I already was. Finally she finds a small space between some cars, and speeds past everyone else like some kind of crazy person.

Then we get to part of the freeway that is nothing but stop and go, stop and go. Lo and behold we come upon Miss I'm a Crazy Lady and guess what? We pass her. So as we pass I point and laugh, "ha,ha crazy lady, look at you now!"Brian sighs, "why do you have to be like that? You know in a couple of miles she's going to pass you. And besides, you ride other people's asses all the time."

"True, but I'm not vicious about it like she was. She deserves to be laughed at. And I'm not going to let her pass me." Eventually she did, but that's not the point. Actually there really was no point to this little story. This is just a typical ride home for us. And a typical exchange of words. We talk way too much about my driving. That's all.