I'm a quitter

Friends, Blog-readers, Tennesseans (is that even a word?).  Lend me your ears, and I will tell you about a girl who has been too busy to blog, and is a damned quitter.

Perhaps some of you have noticed my lack of blogging after my ONE HUNDREDTH BLOG ENTRY last month (seriously, sorry there wasn't like a blog parade... or at least blog-cake.  I love cake.  I'd make cake right now if I knew where any cake-ingredients were.).  Well, let me tell you, I got the heck out of Dodge (this time meaning Georgia) and went to the Kitsap Peninsula, which is north west of Seattle, and as far away from Georgia as you can get in the continental US. 

It was a whole long-weekend of a farmhouse, and family and fantastic day-trips.  And really great "I gained more than 5 lbs" family food.

At one point I could even see Canada (hi, Canada!), and at another point, I was dangerously close to Forks, home of Vampires and Werewolves and pouty-girls (ooh, my!). 

But at every point I was close to perfect-happy.  Obviously it would have been better if Matt was with me on the family reunion-vaca-ATOL.  But instead he was jumping out of AIRPLANES (but that's another blog).

And since leaving Georgia was so much fun the first time, I thought "heck, I should leave Georgia for good" and now I live in Clarksville, TN.  Clarksville?  As in "take the last train to...?"  Yes, Monkees fans, just like that.  And it's nice.  And about 3 degrees cooler (useless) and about 10% less humid (this number I'm making up, perhaps due to wishful thinking).  And the people are about 80% nicer. At least the ones we've met so far.  I have the right to change this opinion should stupidity and ass-hatness run rampant here under the surface (like shiny-vampires in rainy towns).  But for now, it's pretty dang awesome.

And now... the blog.

If 1980s inspirational rock and super-cheesy movies have taught me anything, it's that "quitting is for losers."  Well, friends, I am a loser.

(see? "L"  for loser?  ooh man, I think I really am a loser because this was the only connection my head made.)

A few years ago I worked for Marketstar, which is a great company if you wish to be paid a less than awesome wage, but would like to be well-compensated in gift-cards and activities.  My team won a trip to Park City to go on the 2002 Olympic Luge.  It was a pretty awesome experience.  What they did is modify the bobsled so that the breaks and the steering are up front, so there's a driver and three of your closest friends going down 3/4 of the Olympic course and pulling 4-5Gs.  Unless you're in the back... where you pull 5-6Gs.  Guess where I was....

Yup, I was in the back.  So, I'm heading down this mountain with two girls on my team and our driver (whose name, I believe, was Sven), and I start thinking "I should just let go.  This is TOO MUCH.  I wonder how much I would get hurt if I just let go.  I am sure people do it all the time.  I probably am not going to die or anything. I bet it would be way better than holding on ridiculously for hours of time (in real life, our time was about 53 seconds)."  Anyway, I would say this kind of thinking went on for about 38 of the seconds.  Something was hard, and I wanted to quit.

Optimists might take this as a blog-opportunity to say "but I didn't give up, I held on, and very nice men helped me out at the bottom and helped me when I couldn't stand or walk straight."  I am going to take this opportunity to say there's a quitter inside of me.

Last night our truck of stuff got here about 7:30pm.  We were convinced we should unload it and get it all into our storage unit.  I can't be that hard, after-all, since everything is already there and packed.  About 10:30 at night, as my muscles were as sore as any weight class (the kind where you can't lift your arms after), and my legs stopped functioning I thought "I am going to quit.  I am going to leave all this stuff on the sidewalk, I am going to give my double-sided pillow-top mattress (read: like a billion more pounds than a regular queen mattress) to the poor, or whoever will get it out of this truck for me, and I am going to buy all new stuff." 

I didn't quit (thanks to my super-understanding and ultra-motivated husband).  But I'm not saying I didn't want to.  And I'm not saying if I were alone I wouldn't have.  But we stayed there until 1:30 (that's right, in the AM) until it was done.  There's a quitter inside me just waiting to get out.  I think it's competing with the fat woman with 3 dogs to see who can get out first.  I hope they spend the rest of forever dueling it out to see who gets to surface because I like me pretty much the way I am...

I also like that a picture of me with short non-stupid-looking hair was found.  (anyone who has seen pictures from this point in my life knows, I have too much hair that's too curly for many of these to exist).  For your viewing pleasure below... Sarah the potential-loser in her dad's old Alpha.