They Gots Lots Of Soul

Today we passed a building in California that said UBF Soul Factory on the sign.

Ed said, "I wonder what they do at a soul factory?"

I snapped my fingers to show him that not only do I have rhythm, but I also have soul. I could work there.

Then he said, "Do you think there are a bunch of people standing around in there saying 'Hey hey my brotha. Heellll yeahhh.'?"

Eddie Is He Wearing Trousers?? Friday

It's been a while since I've done a Palm Sketch post, so here's one from when Eddie and I were playing hangman.

The stick figure with the pants on was a dead giveaway but Ed still couldn't figure it out! I'll cut him a break though since practically not a soul uses the word "trouser" anymore.

Truckers Are So Sensitive

This comic comes from my favorite cartoonist of all time, Hilary Price, of Rhymes With Orange. If you haven't checked out her site yet, please do so immediately.

I have spent hours combing through her archives and favorites and always find something to laugh at. She's just a genius.

And for the record, I'd haul Brie over I-beams any day of the week.

CTRL Freak

Wishing You All A Happy Lá Fhéile Pádraig

Even though there has been no evidence of snakes even existing in Ireland, this still made me chuckle.


** Lá Fhéile Pádraig = St. Patrick's Day

Busy Week

Oh Lord, this has been a busy week. Two team loads have keep us driving and sleeping and I have to say, I don't like it one little bit!

So, nothing really interesting going on to post about but I'm hoping to get some pictures while we're in Florida since it's always so colorful and sunny down there. I dislike the sun and its heat immensely, but I do like what it does for photos, so I'll deal.

Tomorrow is St. Patty's day and although I've NEVER in my life worn green in celebration of it - I'm Italian, I don't do the St. Patrick's Day thing - I've decided to don my green and white striped top tomorrow since it's the only thing I have with that color in it.

And, since I don't have any juicy tidbits to share, tomorrow I'll be posting a cartoon I found on the Internet regarding St. Patrick. No, Greg, I did NOT know about the snake thing.

The First Bit Of Spring

Tree buds on Main Street in some little town in northeast Kansas. Spring is a comin'! Spring is a comin'!

The Last Bit Of Winter

The "blizzard" aftermath in Fargo, North Dakota. I still don't know what all the fuss was about....a storm is a comin'! a storm is a comin'!

Eddie Monsignor Starbucks Friday

Eddie wearing my neck pillow on his head and Starbucks' newest (awesome!) invention, the Splash Stick, on his face. It's obvious that he gets great joy doing things that he knows will make me laugh. Even better, he holds the pose long enough for a photo!

Crossing Over To The White Side

I used to be able to say, "I've never used jarred sauce", as in Ragu, Prego, etc. Unfortunately, I can no longer utter those words.

Since being in the truck, I've made vodka sauce and marinara from scratch as I always have, but I've also resorted to buying a few pasta sauces in a jar. So far my favorites are from Bertolli. I've tried Tomato & Basil (fresh, slightly chunky and you can taste the basil as if you added it yourself), Mushroom Alfredo with Portobello Mushrooms (nice mushroom flavor and the cream was not too thick or cheesy), Italian Sausage, Garlic & Romano and the Five Cheese with Asiago and Fontina Cheeses (ohhhh, so delicious!). Barilla makes some also, which I thought I'd try because I always buy their pasta; the Three Cheese is the first one I tried and it wasn't too bad.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, my sister-in-law ROCKS the lasagna. Surprisingly, she does it using a jarred sauce. Tonight I called to tell her that I've found some decent jarred sauces and wanted to share the brand names with her. She was all, "Ohhhh, so you've finally crossed over to the white side, huh?" The "white side" being a reference to her being a white girl and not an Italian.

Believe me, she's held up pretty damn well in an Italian family. She was the first white girl in the family since my brother was the first one to marry a non-Italian. She bore the brunt hearing more times than one can count, "What? You use jarred sauce???"

She's since shut us up on many occassions by making macaroni and cheese so rich it'll land you in a hospital, linguini with white clam sauce that puts my stepfather under a spell and the aforementioned lasagna. She's pretty safe though; since she's not Italian, no one will be smacking her in the side of the head with a soppressata upon learning of her jarred sauce usage.

When I first told my brother about the sauces I've discovered, he said "The Italian Police don't care about some wayward Italian making a jarred sauce in her truck. It's not likely that they'll find you." He hesitated, then said, "But I wouldn't tell anyone about it if I were you."

I told my sister-in-law to keep it to herself, that I'd "come out" in due time. I've already come out to my mother and now that my brother knows I'll slowly tell others in the family as I come to trust they won't crucify me upon hearing it.

I never thought I'd say this, but thank God my father has already passed. His heart would have never been able to handle this revelation.

Finally...A Bib That Is Both Functional And Accurate

I don't think I've ever eaten a meal that hasn't found its way to my chest. I've tried everything; extending my neck further over the plate, watching the food on my fork depart my plate and travel to my mouth and have even tried to shake the culprits that jump on my shirt from the fork before they even have a chance to dance on my ample chest area. It never works.

Eddie always tells me I should be wearing a bib; I think I might have to agree. The problem is I want something stylish, that I can coordinate with my outfits, or maybe something clear that won't be obvious to fellow diners. But as you might imagine, there aren't many bibs available for adults.

Today we went to Culver’s and Eddie saw this bib hanging near the condiments area and decided that I just had to have it. If you've never been to Culver's, you are truly missing out. The full name of the restaurant is Culver's ButterBurgers & Frozen Custard. I don't know if they actually put butter on their burgers, but whatever they do, it's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. They only have locations in seventeen states, so if there is one near you, I suggest you get your Fatty McButterpants over there to try 'em out.

We were in South Dakota when we got "Culverized" and tomorrow we hit our very favorite ribs place in all the nation, Space Aliens Grill and Bar in Fargo, North Dakota. We've been doing so well with making meals in the truck that Eddie thought it was time for a break and figured we'd hit two of our favorites while we were up here.

And the bib? I'm keeping it. How could I not wear something that says, "I'm as cute as a Butter Burger is delicious."

Because I am, you know.

No Hothouse In Sight

Another orchid photo taken at the Franklin Park Conservatory in Columbus, Ohio.

This delicate orchid, which needs a nice warm, water drenched climate to thrive in, would never survive the below zero temperatures Eddie and I are basking in up in Fargo, North Dakota.

Currently it's 12 below zero, but with the wind chill they are saying it feels like 28 below; and it does. No worries though, it's supposed to warm up tomorrow morning. To 3.

Yes, 3 above zero.

Life's A Planet Beach

Since we've gotten the truck, we find ourselves watching whatever we're able to pick up with the digital antenna. We recently watched the Miss Planet Beach International Pageant. No, there wasn't anything else on.

We didn't have to sit through the whole pageant, but we did catch it in time to see the finalists and listen to their reasons for wanting to win the pageant, represent Planet Beach and have the opportunity to win a $100,000 modeling contract and a chance to run their own franchise.

Here are some of the reasons the girls gave for why they would be the best choice to represent Planet Beach:

I like to smile.

I use the product. You're entering a tanning booth spa contest and you tan? Nooooooooo.

When I heard about the contest, I entered it. That's a great place to start.

I like to go outside the box. This was our favorite.

Pretty girl? Modeling?? SO outside the box.

Box, tanning booth; same difference.

No Lifeguard On Duty

Lifeguard shacks overlooking the Pacific Ocean in Southern California.

You Never Know When You Might Need It

Today we met some other truck drivers and sat around for a few hours talking when one husband and wife team began to talk about how they were packin'; both of them had handguns on their person.

I don't really care if someone owns a gun, I just don't really see the need for it. Like Ed said, he's been out here almost thirteen years, in all kinds of neigborhoods and situations, and never found himself in a scenario where a gun was needed.

Then the husband said, "Well, you never need a gun until you need one."

What the hell kind of stupid fucking response is that???

So I guess I should carry a parachute in a backpack, a pack of flares on my hip and a bottle of Cipro just in case I come across an envelope containing Anthrax?

THINK before you speak, people. THINK.

PS: Although, a gun may be pretty handy were I to come across a Komodo Dragon. I don't think the parachute would do me much good in that situation. Unless of course, I encountered it on a cliff....

Eddie Adds Culture To His Day

Ed in New York, on the street in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. August 2004.

Trucking Superhero And Sidekick

I took the Photoshop "colored pencil" tool to a picture of my cousin Ro and I, taken on the night we were in Nyack, NY having dinner with them. We kind of look like comic book characters.

Well, if there were comic books about truckers and their cousins. And what's with my Home Alone expression??

Talk About Making Good Use Of Your Time

Ed decided to finally try and take a shower in the truck while it was moving. He's such a risk-taker! A man on the go! An efficiency trendsetter, if you will.

I was merrily driving along when I heard him shout, "Try and stay on the road! I don't want to have to tell the story about what happened from my hospital bed."

There I was, naked and blinded by the shampoo in my eyes, when all of a sudden...

I'll Get To It As Soon As I'm Done Churning The Butter, Dear.

While researching information for the oversized load we are hauling next week, I came across a section in the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation guidebook that said the following:

The Vehicle Code defines an “Implement of Husbandry” as farm equipment that meets all of the following criteria:

1. Is equipped with pneumatic tires except if prohibited by religious beliefs.
2. Is infrequently operated or moved upon highways.
3. Is used in agriculture for any of the following purposes: a) performance of agriculture production or harvesting activities for the farmer’s agricultural operations; or b) transportation of agricultural products or agricultural supplies for the benefit of the farmer’s agricultural operations.

The term also includes earthmoving equipment and any other vehicle determined by the department to be an implement of husbandry.

I know that "husbandry" is a term that dates back to the 14th century, but hearing it always makes me laugh; especially when it's the term animal husbandry. Though it's old fashioned and has nothing to do with people, it just sounds like a plan for a wild night of sex.

The archaic term reminds me of a conversation Ed and I have almost every single night about something equally archaic. Since I'm in charge of cooking all our meals and making sure he's well fed, he is often in charge of putting ice in our glasses and getting us something to drink. We keep the ice in a big Ziploc bag and sometimes it freezes into a big Ziploced block. When that happens, Ed yells at me for allowing it to freeze solid instead of periodically shaking the bag as it freezes to keep the pieces loose. I always tell him to bang the bag of ice either on the floor, the steps out the back door, or if it's really tough to break up, take it outside and drop it on the asphalt.

And every single night he says to me, "Well, we need an ice pick."

I ask you, my dear readers, WHO in the year or our Lord two thousand nine, has an ice pick?? Except maybe a person who plans on stabbing someone. Other than that, do you know anyone, anyone who needs or uses an ice pick???

Because if you do, will you please get it for me and send it to my house so I can satisfy my Medieval Man the next time he asks for one? I'm sure once he has one, he'll be even more excited to get on with his duties of animal husbandry.

Snagged

Ocotillo plant. Tucson, Arizona