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Top 5 reasons why the Preacher’s Daughters might get arrested

1.  Public intoxication

Actually this one probably happened on a regular basis a few years ago.  However, my sister rarely drinks anymore, and I only drink when I’m out with Teacher.  So we’ll reserve this one for holidays such as Halloween, St. Patty’s Day, and New Years Eve.

Sunday night (Cinco de Mayo) when I was with Teacher I did drink several beers by the fire.  He told me later that he could tell I was getting a little drunk.  I asked how he could tell and he said I “get cuter.”  Hehe.  🙂

2.  Driving while under the influence

As you all know I already had my little run in with the law over this one and I do not want a repeat of that.  Twenty-two hours with Big Bertha in a freezing cold, overly bright jail cell was plenty for me.

3.  Driving like a drunk granny

Last night as Fallen Angel, Little Bubba, and I were coming back from dinner we got pulled over.  She and I both said, “What’d we do?!”  She wasn’t speeding.  Her tag isn’t expired.  We had no idea.  To make things worse, Little Bubba was in the back seat and he said, “Mommy I’m scared.”  (Unfortunately he had acted up all night & I jokingly told him that if he didn’t behave I’d call the cops.  Bad idea.)  I had to reassure him several times after that the cop/sheriff’s deputy was the “good guy.”

Evidently, per the sheriff’s deputy, she was “driving 10 mph under the speed limit and weaving.”  Her truck has rattled lately and it sounds like a raccoon is under the hood, so she’s been trying to take it easy and not drive too fast.  She told the deputy that was why she was going so slow.  He said that was ok, but she was also weaving and he just wanted to make sure she was alright.  He also said “it’s your lane and if you want to use it all then that’s fine.”  (The funny thing is that I tell her all the time that she weaves too much, but she never believes me.  Finally I have proof!  LOL)

He let us go on our merry way after that.

4.  Failure to pay outstanding traffic tickets

This one seems to plague me and Fallen Angel.  She got a ticket last year for having an expired inspection sticker, and to my knowledge she never took care of it.  Of course I still have a couple of tickets that I’ve got to pay from when I was living in the Big Easy.  That was another reason we both sort of panicked when she got pulled over last night.

5.  Cavorting with 17-year-old boys

This one goes back to last year when I was talking to a guy from OKCupid.com.  His profile said he was 18, but he turned out to be only 17.  Once I found out, I quickly put a stop to any and all sexy talk and receiving of pictures from him.  The threat of jail time was enough to scare me straight, and it prompted me to change my search to only guys 24 years old and up.

That wasn’t my first encounter with a 17-year-old though.  Back when I was 22 I had a one-niter with my cousin’s co-worker.  I didn’t know the guy was only 17 until after the dirty deed was done.  I also didn’t know he was a virgin until it was too late.  We live and learn, as the old saying goes.

pkdividerSo there’s my list of the top 5 reasons why the Preacher’s Daughters might get arrested.  Thankfully I’ve only been arrested once, and my sister has yet to make that dreaded call to the Preacher from a jail cell at 2:00 am.  Hopefully she never will, because if she does…I’m not bailing her ass out of jail.  Not after the way she’s been treating me lately.  By the way, she’s still being a bitch from hell.

Our mother and aunt are set to arrive tomorrow.  It’s going to be a little Mother’s Day visit.  The only thing I’m looking forward to is taking them all out to dinner Saturday night.  No, I’m not looking forward to paying, but I am looking forward to having them meet Teacher and hear him perform.  His duo is playing that night at the restaurant we’re going to.  Hehe.  See, I’m still capable of being a sneaky bitch myself.  Fallen Angel hasn’t completely captured that title.

Happy humping & drive safe!

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Waiting to exhale

Cheesy title I know, but it really describes how I feel.  It seems like I’m always waiting on something so I can just breathe.  Like now, I’m waiting to find out what is going to happen with this house, my sister, my friend, my life in general.  “Lost” doesn’t even begin to cover where I’m at in life right now.

Growing up I always had people trying to control me and my life, and even though I cherish my freedom and independence, I feel a little lost when I don’t have someone there trying to control everything for me.

My sister went up to look at that house this weekend, and it turns out that it’s not something that is going to work out for her.  So now we have to find a new plan.  She would stay here, but my boss told her that he’s selling his building and she has to be out by the end of the month.  She was renting an office space from him because her job allows her to telecommute, but she has to have fast internet access, and we don’t have that here at the house.  That leaves her with two options, find a new office to rent, or go ahead and move back to our home state and find a place there where she can set up a new office.

Moving back to our home state was always her plan B, and it seems that now it may be her only option because she got a call from the realtor today.  The woman who looked at the house a couple of weeks ago called and now she wants to bring her husband to come and look at it.  We already know that the woman loves the house, and if the hubby likes it the realtor thinks that they will go ahead and make an offer.  If they do decide to buy the house they want to move in thirty days after the papers are signed.  So we could be homeless in less than two months if things move fairly quickly.

I did some house hunting online, just for the hell of it, and found a really cute “Anne of Green Gables” style house in our home state not too far from where our parents are living now.  It has a horse barn and pasture for my sister’s herd, and it even has a little old general store building on the property.  I would be happy just turning that into my own little cottage.  If we can sell this house then I think I’ve almost got my sister talked into buying that one, or at least taking a look at it.  I don’t relish the idea of being tethered to my sister and nephew for the rest of my life, but the idea of moving back to my homeland, Alabama the Beautiful, and it is a beautiful state, somehow comforts me.

The other thing I feel like I’ve been waiting on is my friend, the one who I was supposed to go see the weekend before last.  He sent me a text a week ago telling me that he had been having phone problems but was back home.  He didn’t say anything else.  A couple of days ago I sent him a text just saying hi.  He never responded.  I guess I should go ahead and return the gift that I’ve carried around in the trunk of my car for over a week now.

I understand that if he’s having a family crisis then he probably doesn’t have time for long conversations with me or anything, but he could at least let me know he’s ok.  Then again, if he can’t even talk to me about things when he going through something like that, then he must not really consider me a friend after all.  Maybe all I ever was to him was just an occasional bed buddy.  It’s too bad, because I make a really good friend and listener too.

I kept promising to explain why I shouldn’t move back to New Orleans, and I guess now is as good a time as any.  It will also connect some of the dots above.  Since my friend isn’t showing much interest and he’s one of the main reasons I wanted to go back to NOLA, now I don’t have much reason at all to move back there.  There are other more important reasons though.

First of all, my little DWI experience back in 2010 came back to bite me in the ass.  I completed all my classes and paid my fines and everything, but I failed to pay off some other unrelated fines to get my physical drivers license back.  When I was living in NOLA I got pulled over one day and got a ticket for a whole list of offenses, and honestly I lucked out because the cop could have taken me back to jail right then, but he didn’t.  Unfortunately the ticket turned out to be over a thousand dollars and I missed my court date because I had to work.  So now I have no license and can’t get one until all that is paid off.  Another problem that came of all that is that I think I have bench warrants out on me, so me taking a chance by being in NOLA is probably a very bad idea.

To top it all off, Manwhore is still there in NOLA and supposedly getting married again in December, and he’s the last person I want to run into.  He also knows about my dirty little DWI secret.  Depending on which side of the bipolar tree he’s swinging from on any particular day, he might just turn me in for the fun of it.  So you can probably understand my trepidation there.

Since I have a whole list of reasons why I shouldn’t move back to NOLA, and very few reasons why I should, I think I’ll just appreciate the time that I did get to spend there, and leave it in my past where it belongs.

Just so you know, and so I don’t feel like a complete liar, I’ll tell you only that someone from my past has popped up again.  I don’t want to say who just yet.  It’s someone who I have very conflicted feelings about…someone who I like, but who also scares me.  Once I sort out some of my feelings on the whole situation, I’ll try to share them in more detail.  Until then…

Happy humping!

Really? More rules? This is tough.

I have a date!  Yes, me.  🙂  So far I’m sticking to my rules too!  He contacted me first, so that takes care of rule #5 (If using an online dating service, do not contact men first.)  The date is set for Tuesday.  That takes care of rule #3 (The first date has to be planned at least two days in advance.)  I still have to get his last name (rule #4).  As far as rules 1 and 2, well, we will just have to see how well my self-control holds up.  He’s very cute, funny and seems like he has some common sense.  I’m hoping he doesn’t turn out to be a dud.  We’ve talked already so I think he’s going to be cool.  Hmm, I think I’m having deja vu.  Didn’t I say that about Manwhore, Skaterboi, Bobblehead Nerd, and so many others when I first met them? Oh, well.  Gotta take a chance.

I can already tell you that rules 1 and 2 are going to be the most difficult to follow.  That’s mainly because he lives about 45 minutes away and that leaves an opening for an excuse for one of us not to drive all the way home if it gets late.  I thought about putting a rule about date curfew, but I really don’t think I could follow that one, ever.

I’m thinking I should add a rule about not drinking and driving.  If I do that though, then it will be even easier to use the excuse to break rule #2 (No going to the guy’s house on the first date.)  So maybe rule #7 should be no drinking at all while on the date.

Happy humping!

Awesome song:

The Adventure Begins Here

I’ve written before about how every day with my family is an adventure.  That’s still true.  I just got back from visiting with my mom, sister, little brother and nephew at my sister’s house.  Yesterday my mom told me that my uncle had called me adventurous.  I chuckled at the thought of that word being used to describe me.  Mom said she thought the same thing and that I’ve always been that way.

When I think of someone being “adventurous” I think about someone climbing Mt. Everest or back-packing through Europe.  Admittedly some of the places I’ve lived in and things I’ve done were not typical for a preacher’s daughter from a small Southern town.  Merriam-Webster defines adventurous as “disposed to seek adventure or to cope with the new and unknown” and “characterized by unknown dangers and risks.”  Yep, that pretty much sums up my life.  I’ve never been too afraid to take chances, move places, and do things that were potentially dangerous.  Either stupidity or a lack of concern for my safety is probably to blame.  I don’t have a death wish or anything, but I do seem to take unnecessary risks entirely too often.

How can I have a fun and exciting life without taking some risks?  I just can’t comprehend playing it safe all the time.  If I hadn’t of taken chances I never would have gone to New York City and lived there for seven years, or met so many of my wonderful friends, or even ended up where I am now, sitting here writing this blog post.  If you had asked me a year ago if I had ever thought about writing on a regular basis, I would have answered no.  It’s not that I don’t like writing.  I love writing and always have.  I had just lost my purpose in life and had given up on the idea that I may actually have something worth sharing with the world.  That’s all changed now and I’m ready for a lifetime of adventures and I can’t wait to share them with you.

My focus has been a little off today even though I’m back at home, Skaterboi hasn’t come in yet, and I’ve had some time alone (Thank You Jesus!).  I’m not as young as I used to be and these three-hour drives are starting to wear me down.  However, my sister asked me about going out with her and HW (Horse Whisperer) next Friday night to a wings & beer party.  She sounded so excited when she told me where we would be going.  They must be desperate for some adults-only time because they’ve already arranged for the kids to stay with babysitters.  Of course I told her I would go because we all know what happened the last time that the three of us went out.  I doubt that we will be able to live up to our last adventure, but you never know!  Too bad I don’t have the old Jesus van anymore.  We could have worn our matching “What happens in the van, stays in the van” t-shirts.  She got us each one after that infamous night.

And just to make it clear, I asked my sister who would be driving because there’s no way in hell that I’m going to be the DD (designated driver) or the drunk driver.  She wasn’t able to give me an answer, so I guess we’ll be sleeping it off in the car.  It should be an interesting night.  I can’t wait. 🙂

A Night Out With The Preacher’s Daughters: Part II

Here’s a link to Part I of A Night Out With The Preacher’s Daughters.

Part II

What happens in the van stays in the van.

My van was an old maroon Dodge Caravan with a non-working radio, a “Jesus” tag on the front, and one of those Christian fish things on the rear window.  It wasn’t your typical or ideal party mobile, but we made good use of it.  Admittedly this was not my first time driving under the influence, but it is something that I’ll never do again.

On the way out of the bar, HW (Horse Whisperer) grabbed some guy that needed a ride home and he ended up in the van with us.  While driving him home I turned around and saw that he & HW were fucking in my back seat.  Then HW yells for my sister to come back there and help her out.  Help her out?  With what?!  I remember thinking, good Lord what’s wrong with these girls?  (Then I remembered that I was the instigator of the entire drunken night and just decided to go with it.)  My sister then climbed into the back seat with them.  That was my first time viewing tag-team sex (not to be confused with threesomes).  Tag-team sex is not for me, but it sure was interesting to witness.

The guy asked me several times, even pleading at one point, to join in, but I just told him that I was just the driver and that’s all I’d be doing, driving.  I probably wasn’t doing a very good job at that anyway, but that was my story and I stuck to it.  Ok, I did reach back at one point, to shut him up, and grabbed his cock.  I yelled out, “Good grief, is that as hard as that thing is going to get?!”  He had a decent sized cock, but it was only half erect.  How were they even having sex back there?  I later found out that there wasn’t much intercourse actually going on due to his temporary erectile dysfunction.

Remember, my radio didn’t work, so I could vividly hear everything that was going on in the back seat.

HW yelled for me to stop so that she could get into the front passenger seat so I pulled over on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.  HW got out of the sliding side door and my sister stayed in the back with Snake.  I call him Snake because that’s what he reminded me of.  He was 40-ish, skinny, shaved head, covered in tattoos and not that attractive, but then again I was drunk and didn’t really get that good of a look at him.  He looked to me like he just came from a Skinhead or KKK meeting.  That alone was enough to scare me to the point where I just wanted to get him home and out of my van as soon as possible.

When I stopped for HW to get into the front seat she just stood by the front passenger door for a minute.  She said, “Oh my Lord, I don’t have any pants on!”  She didn’t have any underwear on either.  I kept yelling at her to just get in, but we all thought it was hilarious that she was standing on the side of the road with nothing on but a shirt.  Looking back it was pretty funny.  I mean how many times do you get to see one of your friends drunk and standing on the side of the road by an old beat up Jesus minivan with no pants or underwear on?  It was priceless.

We finally got HW back in the van and then got Snake home.  This was no easy feat because he was just as drunk as the rest of us and could barely remember how to get back to his own house.  It was in the middle of nowhere on some little back country dirt road.  As soon as I stopped the van they flung open the sliding door and pushed him out of the van butt-ass-naked, holding his clothes in a pile in front of him.  As we laughed and watched his bare ass walk toward his trailer, clothes in hand and in front of his crotch, a girl came out of the front door and started walking towards him.  My sister yells “Go, Ginger, go! We’re gonna get shot!”  HW however wanted to stick around and see what the girl was going to do to him.  The mystery girl didn’t seem angry when she came out, but you never know about these backwoods “Deliverance” types sometimes.  I decided to follow my sister’s advice. During those few seconds when my foot was headed to the pedal, I had a flashback of all my afternoons spent watching the Dukes of Hazzard.  I hit the accelerator as hard as I could, spun around leaving a cloud of dust behind me, and sped away.  Yeehaw!  I felt my blood pumping, my heart pounding, and my flight or fight reflexes kicking in.  It was the best adrenaline rush I’ve ever felt.  As I turned on to the main road I screamed out, “That was fun! Let’s do it again!”

Just three good ol’ girls having a good ol’ time.

To be continued…