Growing Pains

My dad used to let me watch wrestling with him when I was younger.   That was back in the day when professional wrestling was WCW, owned by Ted Turner, and WWF (now WWE), owned by Vince McMahon. 

Let’s break this down.  WCW came on from 8-11 on Monday nights.  WWF came on from 9-11 on a different channel, and my bedtime was at 9:30.  The back of mom’s chair faced the hallway, but my dad could see down the hall from his chair.  My dad and I had a secret “symbol” for when my mom was going to get up and walk down the hallway.  He would pull his ear, and I knew I needed to dash back into my bed before she caught me watching wrestling after bedtime.

I’m sitting here now, watching wrestling for the first time in about 7 years.  My dad still watches it somewhat religiously, but I have no idea what’s going on.  I’m just as eager as always, for some reason the soap opera aspect of wrestling gets me every time.  My dad however, is not as eager to explain things to me. 

Surprise! This post is not really about wrestling.  I mean, it is – but that’s not the point.  When did we pass the age where our parents didn’t get so agitated with us so easily?  Does it come with being an adult?  Why do my questions now become a nuisance rather than the cute little girl wanting to learn everything about what her daddy loves?  Can’t I be a cute young adult who so desperately wants that connection with her father again?

Early to rise, early to fall I guess.  A I am typing, without so much as a word, my dad gets up and goes to bed, and I’m stuck here, totally taken in by the storyline now (lame, I know) but no one to share it with.  (Anyone who knows my mother can only IMAGINE the things she is saying about my choice of entertainment this evening. 

I long for the days when my dad wanted to teach me everything he knew.  I remember the years when I wanted nothing to do with the stories and the lectures – and now I’d give anything to hear, “I walked uphill in the snow to school and barefoot the entire time!”

Isn’t it weird how you grow up and you’re whole outlook on what’s important changes?  My summer back at home has showed me how much I miss my parents – even their little quirks that annoyed me so much in high school.  Does this mean I’m a big girl now?! 

A Little R&R

I'm laying on my stomach, soaking up rays of wonderful, hot sun, as the wind whips by and I hear the waves crashing against the shore.

That's right! I was able to take two days off from work, and head down to Navarre, FL - a much needed vacation, and a much needed visit to my cousin's house. 

The 7 hour drive was well worth the drive for a moment of battling the waves, soaking the rays and quality family time with one of my favorite cousins, Shane, and his wife Michelle, and their 5 year old, Pierce. 

Today was spent on the water, catching shells and riding waves.  We ate lunch at this shack on the beach (always a favorite, and always delicious) and for the first time in YEARS - I got to take a short afternoon nap.  I love vacation.

The Corporate World

The corporate world is quite interesting, in the way that you meet so many different types of people, and you HAVE to like them. We've already discussed the social networking guy, now let me tell you about the marketing/thinks-he's-a-hardcore-journalist guy. 

I have never met anyone who annoys me MORE than this guy.  Example:  For our Thursday night Legends Racing, one of my many important duties is to find trivia questions for a contest we host weekly.  (That's a whole other story.)  I take my trivia questions down to marketing guy, and he stops all of his work to spend an hour or more on "proving" that my answers are incorrect.  You know what, if that's the way you want to spend your work day and get behind on the REAL work that needs to be done, that's fine with me.  Here's what's not fine with me.  Coming up to my floor into my office to say that after searching for hours you have finally found an article that proves me wrong.  Nevermind the ten articles that prove me right, you found one that proves me wrong.  Congratulations. 

Yesterday, marketing guy was in the Big Man's office (the president of the company) and was told by Big Man to change some statistics in an article.  I don't know if any of you have seen the president of Atlanta Motor Speedway - but there is a reason I call him Big Man.  He could probably kill me with his bare hands.  If he tells me to rewrite something, I do it.  But not marketing guy.  He goes and finds articles online (using wikipedia - an obviously credible source) that will prove Big Man wrong, and takes them to his office, which just happens to be down the hall from me.  Who do you think you are, marketing guy?  You write press releases...that's it.  You are not a hardcore journalist - and you are not paid to "get the scoop" and "crunch the numbers." You are paid to write what is coming up at the racetrack, and to tell everyone what happened at the drag races last Friday night.  I don't care if you did get your fancy degree from the prestigous Georgia State...you are not the end all, be all of Atlanta Motor Speedway.

He really just gets under my skin.  And don't call me "darlin."  I am not, nor will I EVER be, your "darlin."  You can kiss my ass first.