Nightmare on West Peachtree Street -- II

Before we get started, some background.

I went for a walk one Sunday night in Seattle. I want to say it was November or December 2007, after we'd set the clocks back. It was around 6:30pm, but it was night time. I was walking down the sidewalk of Queen Anne Ave at the top of the hill. There's a Safeway store up there, on the right hand side after you've made it up the hill. I was walking in front of the parking lot exit when I saw a car, a sedan, attempting to exit the lot. I crossed in front of him (or her, I didn't see) only the sedan didn't stop. I kept walking and the sedan bumped, very slowly, into my legs. It wasn't like I walked in front of the car, I was clearly crossing the exit and s/he just basically drove into me at a very low rate of speed.

Well, I was none too amused. I mean, the car wasn't going fast enough to hurt me at all or even cause me to lose my balance, but I still angry, angry at the idea of someone carelessly driving into me. I pointed at the driver and yelled "STOP" and then angrily slammed the palms of my hands into the hood, pretty hard, it made a loud noise as I recall. To my surprise, the driver of the car didn't do anything. No apology, no confrontation, nothing. So I kept walking and made sure to turn around shoot a bird at the driver, just in case there was any misunderstanding about my feelings on the matter.


The Nightmare on West Peachtree Street II started with a similar situation.


It was a city side street that I was crossing, on a busy block. I was walking down a wide street with one way traffic. The traffic was moving the opposite direction that I was. As I was attempting to cross the side street, a small Nissan pickup truck was sitting at the intersection. I was to cross in front of this truck from the driver's right to her left. While I was crossing the side street, the driver of the truck continued to inch forward. She bumped into me when I was in front of her. I looked at the driver and she shook her head, like she was saying "no". She then bumped into me again.

I stopped in front of her truck and pounded both fists into her hood and pointed at her and yelled "Stop f---ing moving!!" The driver simply looked at me, and again shook her head. I crossed the street all the way and turned around to look at her. "What are you doing?!" I demanded angrily.

Then she did something unexpected. She turned left and stopped right beside me. She stopped her truck facing the wrong way on a busy one way street. An oncoming car swerved around her at a very high rate of speed, but she didn't bat an eye. She just sat there, staring at me.

Then something very strange happened, something very very strange.

All of a sudden, I was seeing this scene unfold through her eyes. Not in a figurative sense, I mean, I was literally seeing things through her eyes, seeing myself standing on the sidewalk in my gray hoodie.

"I" looked down at the floor board of the truck, looked at "my" pink slip on shoes on "my" chocolate colored feet. "I" brushed "my" hand underneath the seat, but didn't feel anything. Then, "I" opened the glove compartment... and pulled out a silver revolver.

"I" cocked the revolver and lifted it up above the window.

It should be noted here that while I can see what she is seeing, my emotions have remained with me. So at this point, when she lifts the revolver above the window of the truck, I can see myself, my real self, standing on the sidewalk, but at the same time, what is about to happen is just now started to occur to me, the real me.

"I" hold the revolver up and see a look of dread and panic cross my face.

I'd picked the wrong person, clearly. This woman was just plain vanilla crazy, and she was going to take my life away.

"I" pointed the revolver right at the middle of the hoodie. Without any consideration or remorse, without any emotion or second thought, "I" pulled the trigger one time. That was all "I" needed to do. "I" watched my chest explode. And "I" just sat there, still facing oncoming traffic. "I" had no thoughts, no feelings. And "I" didn't move a muscle.

Then, like a movie, honest to goodness, the entire dream went white, bright white, that's all I could see.

When an image returned, I don't know whose eyes I was looking through. The vantage point was apparently on a dock near a river or lake. "I" saw three large men holding a large beige sack. Though "I" could not see inside the sack, "I" knew that it contained my lifeless body. There was no doubt. The men tossed the sack into the water and turned to walk away.

Commercial Liberties Part II

Bet you thought I wouldn't get around to writing this.

The Wendy's commercials really get on my nerves these days.

It's way better than fast food. It's Wendy's!

I don't have a problem with Wendy's saying that they're better than other fast food establishments, although I would find the veracity of that statement to be questionable as well. Wendy's is usually good in a pinch, I mean, you never set off to go to Wendy's, you always just sort of end up there. A few weeks ago, I was really craving some Krystal. I got in the car and started driving, not really knowing the location of the nearest Krystal. I got in I-75 north and began heading out of Atlanta, sure that I'd find a Krystal sooner or later. Before I knew it, I was 45 miles north of Atlanta. Out loud, I said to myself "I'm getting some dad gum Krystal." And I did, eventually. I could just never see myself going to those lengths to get Wendy's, literally willing myself to another exit, reaffirming my desire to eat their food with profane proclamations.

Any why not? Because it's just plain ole vanilla - wait for it - FAST FOOD. It's nothing to be ashamed of. I don't set out on quests for McDonald's or Burger King. But then, to be fair, I don't get angry with, well scratch that, the "i'm lovin it" ad campaign by McDonalds is pretty bad. Maybe that should be Part III of this series if Maddox hadn't already nailed it. Point is, I get a little bit irritated by this red headed step child telling me that her product is "way better than fast food."

Let's talk about the Wendy's "experience", shall we?

Does it involve:

-Making your meal selection from a large board? YES
-Iterating your order through a mircophone from a car window? YES
-Specifiying your meal as "small", "medium", or "large" (or "Biggie")? - YES
-Reading a sign informing you that you are under 24 hour video survelliance? YES
-Wondering idly What the hell is going on back there? YES
-Passing your money/ credit card through a window framed in bullet proof glass? YES
-Getting a drink, but not your food, until your payment is secured? YES
-Receiving your food in a paper bag with each item wrapped it its own container? YES
-Checking to ensure that your order is correct before you drive away? YES
-Being really pissed off if all of the above took more than five minutes? YES
-Tipping your server? NO

How, exactly, is that not fast food? If it isn't fast food, if it's on some sort of greater plane of existance, then what is it? Why play us for a bunch of fools?

Here are some other ideas, going along with Wendy's theme:

Budweiser: Way better than American beer

Lortab: Way better than a pain pill

Morton: Way better than iodized salt


Get the picture? I think that little red headed step child should watch Donnie Brasco toward the end, where Joe Pistone tells his wife "...I am them." And his wife is saddened, crushed that what she knew all along was now confirmed, he's no better than 'them', no different. Wendy's reminds me of what they say about crabs in bucket, how when one crab attempts to climb out, the other crabs will pull him back into the bucket. Only in this case, the crab trying to climb out is Wendy's marketing team, the other crabs are Wendy's attributes, and the bucket is, I don't know, a grease stained paper bag. And the old, salty fisherman watching it all is me, saying "What a bucha morons. On another note, I wish I could be on Deadliest Catch just for one season. I think I could do it. I wish that they hadn't revised all the regulations up there. The show was better when it was a true open season, I think."

I think that people typically like the idea of eating crab moreso than actually doing it. Crab legs are a lot of work, and the yield of meat is really pretty low when you think about it. Deviled crab is good, you get more food and you don't make such a mess doing it. The flavor is really good too. I tried to order a manhattan and deviled crab at Wendy's once. They told me they carry either of those things because they're a fast food restaurant.

Thoughts from the LSU game....

So yesterday I decided to do something a little different. Sans a game ticket, I decided to take some notes as I was watching the game. The last time I did anything like this was the live blog I participated in on this forum for the Tennessee game in 2007. Though I didn't consider this at 3:35p yesterday, that 07 Tennessee game was the last time I've seen us lose on television.

Anyway, here are my notes. I'm not editing or adding to anything that I wrote down yesterday:

1st Quarter:

15:00 - Hairy Dawg fell coming onto the field? Bad omen?
15:00 - Rather start on D - get it out of the way
15:00 - Fields at FB?
13:30 - Bad ball. 1st down was there.
13:18 - Don't believe in JJefferson
12:09 - Knock him down Evans!
11:43 -What zone?
9:50 - Good pick - down it!!
8:34 - That would've been 6 easy
7:05 - Lot of LSU line surge
5:36 - Twice they've taken it down. Get a stop maybe?
3:51 - (3-0). Could be 14-0
3:51 - They are scared of Boykin - only one good return this year
2:07 - Wow. AJ = game changer.
1:01 - 3 drives - all punts. Promise now.
End 1: 14-0, 7-3? Go figure. We survived.

2nd Quarter

13:10 - Shepard can't throw? Jefferson will.
11:12 - Way to go Reshad! Nice option read.
10:55 - Heads up play by Bam. Let's get some O.
10:04 - If M Moore trails, it's an Immaculate Reception
9:55 - We can't run it
9:48 - How long can we survive w/ no offense?
8:24 - We have to be more physical
7:40 - Missed a hold? Soft zone - Bryan Evans? Stunning.
6:00 - Are we using 9 on defense this entire time?
5:43 - Did Reshad watch a Greg Blue highlight tape?
4:09 - Game changes here post 4th down
3:12 - See you later momentum

Halftime - Les left some points on the field. Stats would suggest a worst score. Cox needs to settle down. Wouldn't mind seeing Logan Gray. We can't run. Still feel good. LSU could've made some space on the scoreboard and didn't. CFB doesn't give so many 2nd chances. Think we will survive, still.

3rd Quarter

13:40 - Blitzes create mismatches? Really?
13:14 - Inspired D
12:30 - Short field. Let's make something happen!
8:43 - Seeing some punch. Missed FG. How games are lost
7:07 - Logan on a punt return near midfield? Not trusting Prince?
7:02 - Burn the shirt?! Good run though
5:12 - Washaun got the block down
3:57 - Orson finally! Nice conversion
3:57 - BS flag. Strip all emotion out

4th Quarter

15:00 - Wow, look at the clock. Hope you took the under. Offense looking good. When was last time we've been shutout through 3? Aub 2004? Let's win the 4th. Feel real good.
14:15 - Stonewalled up the middle all day. Great call for the TD.
13:12 - Missed a chance for a pick, Dewberry
12:19 - Another good stop. Defense looks really stout.
11:40 - How in the world was that not grounding?
11:20 - D getting much better rush
10:19 - K Weston is making some money today
9:50 - I trust Logan to catch anything
6:47 - Drew Butler is our MVP this yr
5:53 - Thought Bam had the sack. BIG conversion
5:25 - LSU moving. Don't like how this feels
4:32 - You have to keep contain, right? Long run JJeff
2:53 - TD LSU, big stop on 2pt. Let's go to work!
1:09 - Oh my goodness. What a catch. Again
1:09 - BS flag -- again
:54 - Wow, BS flag was huge
:46 - You tackle so well all day. Cold water.
:42 - Another?! BS flag -Bad blocking on the kick
:29 - Get the damn snap up
:21 - INT. Game. Hated the celebration flags on both teams. So proud of us today, moreso than SC or Arky. I am so damn proud of us, how we fought back. This team has heart, guts. I hope this doens't break us. We could be 5-0 or 0-5. Glad it's plus in the middle. Hard to swallow. This team wears the uniform the right way. Again, couldn't be prouder. My heard bleeds for these kids today.

Thoughts from the Oklahoma State Trip...

I realize that this is a little late. What can I say?


We flew into Dallas, which is about three and a half hours south of Stillwater. It was around $180 per person round trip to fly to Dallas. We actually could have, technically, flown into Wichita (about half the distance to Stillwater) for $160 a person, but in order to get that fare, we would have had to fly out at 5:50a Sunday morning, which we weren't too keen on doing. My brother has never been to Texas before either and kind of wanted to see it. There were a couple of Georgia fans on the plane to Dallas and it was neat talking to them about the game and roster and what not. I take a lot of pride in putting on a nice UGA shirt for a trip like that. I very well remember walking around Pike's Place Market in Seattle one September Friday afternoon in 2007. That was the weekend Ohio State was in town to play Washington. I was very impressed with how much Ohio State stuff I saw at Pike's that day and it really underscored to me the importance of being identifable when you go on a trip like that.

My brother looked up a few "authentic" Texas type places where we could eat Friday and Sunday lunch. I mean, we can eat McDonalds or Arby's here. The real gems are the local places, and we certainly found on Friday.

"Big Fatty's Spankin Shack" is located in the town square of Valley View Texas, a town of less than 800 people on I-35 about 45 miles north of Dallas. The place sits in what looks like a large metal outbuilding and is only marked by a large canvas sign tied to a trellis in front of the building. It was around 2:30p local time when we walked in. There were probably 8 tables in the entire restaurant. only one of which, a table for five, was occupied. As we walked in, everyone at that table turned and looked at us, with steel, unwelcoming eyes. I want to say that one bearded mesh back hat individual stopped his fork halfway between his plate and his mouth and at our entrance, but that may be a bit of an embellishment. Their faces, to a person, said silently "What is this f***ing s**t?!"

The waiter, who looked to be one of two people working there, was an older black man with hair halfway down his back said to us "sit anywhere you like fellas". He looked like an aged hippy and very far out of place given the other ambiance, which included a "Shut your f***ing mouth" candle, a wooden sign that said "shut up and eat", wooden tables, floors and walls, and a dry erase board with a magic marker made list of the day's side dishes. We sat down at a table near the dry erase board and not too close to the other table. The menus were already on the table. As we were looking the menus over, the other table got up to leave. After paying their bill and leaving my brother said "Man, did you see how those guys looked at us? That was awesome. If it's this much of a local place, you know it's going to be good."

I ordered the chopped brisket plate, which came with Texas toast and two sides (french fries and potato salad for me). About five minutes later, I was presented with a massive plate of food that probably included 3/4 lbs of chopped brisket. I was really hungry after not having had anything to eat that day. The brisket was quite simply the best I've ever had in my life. It was better without the sauce, really. The perfect amount of smoke flavor, not dried out, very little gristle or fat. The potato salad was very creamy, almost the same texture as creamed corn. Just a hell of a good lunch.

We stopped off at a gas station before re-entering the I-35. Our rental car, a black Chevy Impala, had a big oval G magnet on the passenger door and a black Georgia car flag on the driver's side. As I sat in the car, I noticed some Univ of Oklahoma fans at one of the gas pumps. An older guy with an OU shirt on looked at me and pumped his fists a few times. I said "We'll clean 'em up for you.." Flying into Dallas I hadn't really thought about the game being played there, but I noticed a good number of BYU fans in DFW and had noticed a lot of OU stuff going down the other side of the interstate, including the OU football team on four charter busses with two police cruisers in front and two in back. Seeing the Brigham Young University stuff around DFW, I thought "man, it's kind of sad that they've come all this way and they're going to see their team take a whipping..."

If I was a tornado, I'd really like Oklahoma. I had to make a Red Bull stop on I 35 because I got so drowsy driving mile after mile over flat land. We rolled into Guthrie, about 20 miles south of Stillwater, around 4:30p. That was the closest hotel we could find, though Stillwater isn't exactly Las Vegas when it comes to room space.

After a scouting trip to Stillwater and dinner in Guthrie, we hit the rack early Friday night.

6:15a came quickly, but some mornings you just don't need any coffee to get going. The early morning greated us with a foggy drive up to Stillwater and horn honks and fist pumps for the other Georgia fans on I-35 that morning.

I have to say that the Oklahoma State people were the classiest fans I've ever met in my life. Walking around Stillwater that morning, people were rolling down their windows yelling "Welcome to Stillwater" and "Thanks for coming guys!" Eating breakfast at a local donut shop, locals in Oklahoma State gear would come up to us and say "We appreciate you coming out here fellas" and things of that nature, like we'd done them a favor. It was really something. I figure at most SEC schools we would've heard some VERY colorful langage by that time, to say the least. Not here though. It was really something.

We hit this place called Willy's Saloon for pregame drinks. Willy's proudly displayed a sign along the back wall that said "Garth Brooks First Public Performances: 1985-1987." Willy's is the kind of place where the men's bathroom has a trough urinal and no mirror on the wood panel walls. We stayed there until just before kickoff and had some great talks with the OSU people.

Then the game happened.

Walking outside of the stadium, I got really upset at what had just happened. This was different that Florida or tech, it just felt different. I could almost feel some tears welling up in my eyes. It was just a feeling more of great saddness than anger.

One of my softball games a few weeks ago didn't go very well. I hit leadoff that night and went 0-3 and actually made the first and last outs of the game. I was flipping through this BoDeans CD that I had in the car on the way back to Atlanta and was really in a blue funk over the way I'd played and some other stuff as well. I found this song pretty much by accident and felt that it summarized how I was feeling to a "T".

That's the song that I felt summed up the Oklahoma State game pretty well too. It sure was a sad, long walk out of the stadium. No taunts from the Oklahoma State people though, as I'd come to expect.

We headed back to Dallas Sunday afternoon and stopped at a place in Sanger Texas called "Babe's Chicken Dinner House". After a 20 minute wait, we were seated in the middle of this large resturant that featured waitresses taking turns singing karoke. They don't even bother with menu's at Babe's. You pick a meat (Chicken Fried Steak, Fried Chicken, and a few other similar choices) and it comes with family style sides of biscuits, green beans, mashed potatos and gravy, and creamed corn. We both got the chicken fried steak.

While waiting for our food, we noticed that a line of waitresses were standing in the middle of the restaurant line dancing to the song another waitress was singing, in this case "The hokie pokie". I said to my brother, in a semi loud voice "Oh, so it's like a Joe's Crab Shack...." with "serious sarcasm" as usual. We both chukled, and then he leaned across the table and said "when you said that, that old woman sitting to your right gave you the meanest 'eat s**t' look you can imagine for about five seconds." Welcome back to Texas. I really respect a place that doesn't need me for anything.

The flight home was quiet and we got back into Atlanta around 8:30p, less than 60 hours after we'd left. It's always kind of sad to see a trip end that you anticipate for so long. You think of the things that have to be juggled and worked out just for the trip to happen. Then it does, you don't win, and it's over before you know it. And now, South Carolina is only a couple of days away. Now the focus will shift to planning the Florida game.

Another trip is in the books though. Three times now in the past year I've been able to get on a plane to watch Georgia play football or baseball and for that I'm incredibly grateful. For the frustration of having to pay $150/ each for tickets or all those hidden costs of a rental car, or the hassle of finding a hotel room and choosing which airport to fly into, you can't really assign a value to the experience of eating at a place like Big Fatty's or drinking beers on a Saturday morning in Willy's saloon. I don't really have any urge to travel internationally. I just have too much fun seeing this country.

I don't understand

So, I ran across some interesting news tonight in my browsing of the message boards.

The Oklahoma State - Georgia game has been designated a "premium" game by the Cowboy athletic department. This means that Oklahoma State did not make any single game tickets available. You have to a be season ticket holder (or student) to get tickets to the Georgia game. Oklahoma State projects to sell around 44,000 season tickets this season. They gave UGA 5,000. The stadium seats 60,000. Apparently, there are going to be 11,000 empty seats for the game Sept 5.

Check out the Oklahoma State board. The OSU people are saying "It'll look like a sellout on TV." That's the best they can come up with apparently.

This kind of burns me up because I heard (though did not verify) that Oklahoma State would not sell season tickets to Georgia residents. It seems to me that they're leaving an awful lot of money on the table. We took 20,000 people to Tempe last year, so I'm sure we would have taken 16,000 to Stillwater if we were given the excess allotment. These tickets are $100.00 face value. Do the math. With 11,000 projected empty seats, if Oklahoma State would only sell HALF (either to UGA or their own fans as single game tickets), they'd gross $550,000.00. That's an awful lot of money that they are almost certainly foregoing, only to severely limit the opposition's numbers and goad your own fans into buying season tickets.

I really do fail to see how that model makes any real sense... I'm sure that the rest of the coaches throughout their athletic department are thrilled that Oklahoma State left a gross payday guaranteed to be over a half a million dollars sitting on the table. I'm sure that the local business in Stillwater are thrilled about the prospect of several thousand people who would have come out, bought beers, food, merchandise, stayed in hotel rooms, you name it, not doing any of that because the Oklahoma State athletic department decided to only sell the Georgia game to season ticket holders. It cuts both ways. It's obviously a rough economy, so why would you try and force your own fans to lay out several hundred dollars a piece for season tickets when they don't want to? And why would you take revenue away from your local businesses?

I'm wondering who benefits from Oklahoma State's ticket policy for this game, and honest to goodness, I cannot come up with one entity. Oklahoma State has pointed to the Georgia game as a chance to show that they are a national program, an emerging powerhouse. More power to them, it's a great opportunity for them to do so. But I have to say, that's very much a bush league approach by their athletic department, and it says anything but "elite", in my view.

Nightmare on West Peachtree Street

I don't know why I felt this was necessary, although I suppose that the follow up would answer the question.

He was wearing a blue hat and riding a bicycle in front of the High Museum of Art, moving right to left as a stared at him from my apartment balcony. Lifting my 30.06 rifle to my right shoulder and holding it with my left hand, I put the iron sight on him. The tip of the rifle was very steady and I was calm. I squeezed the trigger, the rifle fired, but nothing happened. He was not knocked off of his bicycle and not affected in the least. I didn't fire a second shot, rather, went back inside my apartment. I don't know why.

About 10 minutes later, I noticed a ladder resting on the outer half of the balcony rail. I walked outside to see that the ladder extended down to a balcony two floors below mine. I didn't think much of it and walked back inside.

A few minutes later, I walked back outside. I don't know why, I just did. I looked down the ladder to see the guy with the blue hat climbing up. He was very deliberate and methodical. He didn't miss a step. I walked back inside. I don't know why.

Several seconds later, I looked up to see him climbing off of the ladder and onto the balcony.

I said out loud, "He's going to kill me."

I ran for the door and attempted to lock it behind me. I don't know why. It's not like he can't unlock it from the inside. I could feel him pulling the door open as I attempted to hold it shut. Looking down the hall, I figured I had two options. I could go for the elevator or the stairs. As time was quite a consideration, I went for the stairs. As I sprinted for the door to the stairwell. I could feel him behind me. If I could just get down one flight of stairs I could, theoretically, lose him.

I'm sprinting down the first row of stairs when I hear the door swing open behind me. "He saw me" I think to myself, and I think again "This man is going to kill me."

I'm almost down one floor when I hear him yell "HEY PEACOCK." I freeze, dead in my tracks, and look up. We lock eyes.

And then I woke up.

One over Zero

I remember that old Clint Black song that went "Ain't in funny how a melody/ Can bring back a memory/ Take you to another place in time/ Completely change your state of mind?"

I've written about this before, elsewhere, but that song "Know it All" by Lagwagon always takes me back to 2006. I graduated school that May, took a trip that July, moved back to my parent's house in August as my lease at my college house ran out, moved to Providence Rhode Island for about two months in October for the company training program, and then moved to Seattle to begin work at the end of November.

I guess it was the first or second Friday that I was there, I found myself up late in my hotel (excuse me, "temporary living"), drinking a can of Bud Light and listening to that Lagwagon song on YouTube. I started thinking about Athens and home and everything that had happened this year already.

It's funny, the things you remember. What seems significant after the fact, and what doesn't. Earlier today I was talking to my dad about the last fishing trip I took in Destin, last August. I said "You know, we got out there, it was really hot, I started feeling sick, hadn't slept much the night before, and was really feeling bad. We weren't catching any fish either. We were about 40 miles out, right around the edge of the continental shelf. And it's funny, I remember being irritated that we weren't catching anything then, I was a little bent out of shape about it. But looking back, I don't remember it for that reason. I was kind of mad at that moment, but even by the next day I didn't really care...."

I tend to remember things more favorably after the fact that I experience them, if that makes sense.

I didn't like my first place in Seattle very much. It was actually in Renton, and I didn't care for the neighborhood. I was so happy that I only signed a six month lease there and was overjoyed at the prospect of moving out. There was so much street noise outside that I spent the last two months or so that I lived there sleeping on my couch. How silly is that? Looking back at it though, I remember how nice it was to come home and build a fire in my fireplace. I remember how the shower had a small window about five feet up the wall that you were supposed to slide open while you bathed, to allow the steam to escape. When I first moved in, I was getting up around 6:30a each morning for work. I remember I'd crack that window open in the shower and feel the frigid January air hitting my wet face. I'd stare out the window at the cars driving down the street, it was still "night" time outside. I'm glad I can remember the place for that and not for the Sunday morning when I lay on my couch, listening to my neighbors screaming at each other, five or six different voices, and wondering if there would be a weapon involved at any point. I'm glad that I remember the Saturday night sushi dinners I used to eat in my dark living room, illuminated only by the fire and the movie on television and not the street bikes that would wake me up in the middle of the night.

I remember laying on that couch, watching the flames flicker in the fireplace and scheming about ways to move back home. I thought about the line from opening of "Lucky Number Sleven" that went "Guy wants what the fellas call a sure thing, so he schemes to make it so." And I thought that I was going to make going back home a "sure thing", because I missed it. I missed what I remembered.

Now, I miss living up there. Not Renton as much as Seattle, the second place I lived. I'm glad that I remember the long walks in the evening and the scenery, not the horrible traffic or passive aggressive mentality of that city. I'm glad I miss the city living, not having to find a place to park on the street when you're exhausted at the end of the day. I'm glad that I miss the fun I had, not the frustration of trying to learn how to do my job.

I'm glad when I listen to "Know it All", I remember 2006 for its ups, and not its downs. There were plenty of the latter. It had to be the most up and down year of my life. But I remember the ups. And of the downs, I appreciate what it took to get through those.