"Not your cup of tea"

I distinctly recall the first time I heard the phrase, "not your cup of tea." I was approximately 8 or 9 years-old and I was at Joey's birthday party.

Joey was the boy next door and we played kickball, ran around capturing lightning bugs and climbed the tree in his backyard.  (And let me tell you it was a great friggin tree, seriously on a scale of 1 to 10 based on equa-distance between branches for climbing and branch strength I give it a 10. Granted, I think that's the only tree I've ever climbed in my life so I'm no official "tree-judger" but still)

You should know that Joey had kick-ass birthday parties as least that's how my childhood memory recalls it. We're talking ponies and clowns people. No offense to my parents or nothing but plates and cups with the Cabbage Patch Kids on them were as good as it got in my household.

One year he decided to celebrate his birthday at one of those go-kart raceway places.

I don't remember the specifics but it did not go well for me. I couldn't seem to maneuver the damn go-kart.

I must've blocked a lot of this out so I can't definitively say but I'm pretty sure I barely got around the track.  I just kept running into the tire barrier and could not for the love of God figure out how to turn the damn go-kart around no matter what the hell I did. I would take a conservative guess that the other kids zipped past me maybe a zillion bajillion times as I painstakingly managed to get around the track one measly time.

I do, however, vividly recall walking off the race track towards the fence where Joey's mom was and her turning to me and saying sympathetically, "this just isn't your cup of tea, is it?"

Despite never having heard the saying before I totally got it. "This just isn't your cup of tea" means you suck at this. You suck like real bad at this.

Further reflection into my childhood stirs up images of amused family member's faces during trips to the amusement park as I walked off the race track feeling embarrassed and ashamed because I could not manage my way around a kid's race track despite all the other kids maneuvering these miniature race cars seemingly quite well and even enjoying it. I also recall getting really mad..like Ramona Quimby mad that adults would take amusement from my hardship.

You should know that all these memories have come rushing to the surface of my poor little head because I landed a freelance job that requires traveling and DRIVING.

I actually thought about turning it down. But that seemed silly considering we're on the road only one week out of six.

Although, I am contemplating "accidentally misplacing" my license right before the shoot...

Frankly I think I'm doing them a favor.

Seriously, would YOU want the grown-up version of the kid that can't get a go-kart around the kiddie track behind the wheel?

All the single ladies....

This is what I had for dinner last night.

Promptly followed by a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

It's amazing how quickly I can fall back into single-girl mode when the hubs is away.

The "married me" at least attempts to make a home cooked meal most nights of the week.  But not this week...this week I am SINGLE-the old ball and chain is working out of the DC office and it just seems natural to eat Häagen-Dazs for dinner.

An hour ago, I found myself playing music videos on youtube (thanks gchat lover) and started rocking out in the apartment-like unabashedly, full throttle, working up a serious sweat kind of dancing.

It felt glorious and I can't remember when was the last time I've "danced like no one's watching."

There was a little air guitar involved, jumping up and down like a drunk 18-year old at a rock concert, followed by some Zumba inspired moves because I too, can be a hot Latin dancer.  (If only in the privacy of my living room.)

And yes, this all went down with a deep-cleansing mask on my face.

Dear hubby,  I miss you dearly but being able to watch " "Teen Mom" without your judging
eyes-PRICELESS.