Nuts and Bolts, Nuts and Bolts, I got screwed...

This past Saturday I learned a very important lesson...well two lessons actually.

1. Curbs should be avoided at all times while driving. Stupid curbs. I not only slammed into a curb on Saturday night, but I also popped TWO tires in the process. TWO. So, my plans to go to Cambridge for Chinese and movies didn't happen. What did happen was that I spent 2 hours hemming and hawing over what to do...do I change one tire, do I leave my car, do I set my car on fire...?? Stupid, stupid curbs.

2. I learned the importance of buying new tires when your old ones are worn. *Please see learning point one for explanation.*

I have 4 brand new tires on my car now...and I have to say, they look pretty classy. The rims, however, are another story. It looks like some sort of rabid animal chewed all the way around the outer edge of my rims. Oh well. Luckily my car sustained little damage...what was damaged was my ego. I have always prided myself on being a very safe driver (minus ONE speeding ticket when I was going 90 in a 55..."I was going down a hill, officer"). Ever since moving to England, my pride has taken some pretty tough hits. The first incident occured last Janaury when a deer decided to jump out in front of my car on a foggy, British b-road. That deer had some springs in its legs, because instead of a dent in the front of my car, I somehow have the imprint of a deer butt on the top of my hood. Not sure how that happened, but I'm pretty sure its annoying. The next incident was between me and a low lying wooden fence. While my car did get a couple of scratches on it, I'm pretty sure the fence was worse. So, maybe thats one point Erin, zero points fence?

So, now that I have hit a deer, run into a wooden fence, and popped two tires, I am afraid that I can no longer pride myself on driving skills. But-I was able to change my tire and that counts for something, right?

Just another Sunday morning drive...

This past Sunday I drove my friend Holly to the airport where she was catching a plane to Madrid. Her flight was pretty early, so we were on the road at 5:45am. There was minimal traffic, which was definitely nice, the sun was out (amazing!), and we were enjoying a nice little conversation. While chatting, we both were distracted when we saw a car stopped on the other side of the motorway while its driver appeared to be jogging around the car in a pink jumpsuit. On closer inspection, as the driver turned so that he was facing us, we realized that the "pink jumpsuit" was in fact his pasty white skin reacting to the cold air and we had a full on frontal view of his "jiggly bits" as he jogged. Talk about not being able to look away from a train wreck. Holly and I didn't talk for a couple of minutes after our sighting...mostly because neither one of us wanted to believe that what we had seen actually happened. I don't particularly want to see any naked man jogging on the side of a motorway, in particular a brit with pasty white skin (although, Jude Law is pretty dreamy....). Even if Brad Pitt was jogging naked on the side of the road I would probably still throw up in my mouth a little bit.

So, the question of the day is...what is the deal with flashers!?! I was flashed by a man asking for "directions" when I was in middle school, my mom was flashed when she was a girl on her way to CCD (Catholic sunday school), and almost all of my friends have similar "flasher" experiences. A note to all men: We (women) REALLY, REALLY don't need to see your bits and bobs out in public...take a look down south and you will realize that that region of your world is NOT all that attractive to us women-folk.

Maybe the naked man I saw jogging by the A14 was simply trying to get a little exercise, maybe he was falling asleep at the wheel and was trying to wake himself up, or maybe he is just, well, a freak! Whatever the case, it is NEVER okay to jog naked. Never, ever, ever.

Good times.

When I was home in the states, I got to hang out with my good friend Lindsay for a couple of days. Lindsay lives just north of Boston and has an adorable Cockerspaniel puppy. We went to a beach on the North shore where her puppy, Scooter, ran around with other dogs and drank salt water (in Scooter's defense, he was only copying another dog). Scooter and his dog friend like to chase eachother around, and when doing this forget to look ahead of them to make sure they don't run into anything or anyone. Well, poor Lindsay lost in Scooters game of chase and was laid flat out after being run into by Scooter and another dog. One minute Lindsay was talking to us, the next she was FACE DOWN in the sand. Scooter paused and looked really really confused, then proceeded to lick Lindsays face while she was down. Luckily, nothing was damaged on Lindsay and Scooter seemed to have a great time. Nothing like watching a human get clotheslined by two dogs on a freezing beach!

When in Rome...

On a recent trip home to the states, I was fortunate enough to spend a couple of days in a little city called Worcester. Some may be familiar with this city from an Adam Sandler skit where Adam is a toll booth operator and says "Welcome to WOOOSTA" to every car that comes his way. Others may know Worcester from its review in Maxim magazine which dubbed it "the armpit of Massachusetts". Call it what you may, Worcester is the city where my extended family is from, and where my parents grew up.

Worcester is like many old factory towns in New England...some parts (or many) are run down, but it has a sort of...well..."charm" that is unmistakeable. The charm I am talking about comes in the form of Nascar t-shirt wearing, Marlboro light smoking, Budweiser drinking, good ole city folk. These "city folk" like to pahk their cahs in tha garage just as much as anyone else and Dunkin Donuts is the regular meeting place. If you are from Worcester and reading this-don't be offended. EVERY city I have been to has the same "charm"...it just varies in characteristics from region to region. You have the Chavs in England, Cholos in Mexico, red-necks in the south...etc, etc. Many of the people in Worcester (especially members of my family) are amazingly great people who are well educated and classy. But, the Worcester-ites that make for more interesting blog stories are the Bud drinkers.

Anyways-to get to the point of this close to pointless blog: My mom and I got to spend some quality time together in Worcester last week. Many of the days we spent together were a bit stressful since we had some family health issues going on. One morning, after working out at the gym, my mom and I decided to grab a bite (and coffee) at Dunkin Donuts and then head over to Shaws to pick up some groceries. My moms outfit was classic: faded blue tapered sweat pants and an oversized college sweatshirt. My outfit was equally as hideous. We had to capture the moment while cruising the aisles of Shaws. We had fun laughing at eachother and just being silly. We decided that we were just going along with the old saying "when in Rome, do as the Romans". Theres nothing like going back to your roots...

What I learned was that sometimes all you need is a pair of faded, tapered sweats and two oversized sweatshirts in order to forget about the stresses of life for a little while. And for the record, mom, those sweatpants will NEVER go out of style. (or maybe they already have?)

**Disclaimer: KCamp (mom) and I look MUCH better in person....I hope!