Kick Cancer's Butt!

So, Friday night my friend Sara and I went to this benefit that I have been preparing a PowerPoint presentation for. Scratch that. Make it presentationS... plural... with an S on the end. It was a good bit of work. Fortunately work that I (or my company technically) am getting paid for. Of course, that check has to arrive in the mail for me to actually get paid.

The night started off with some unexpected excitement. This story basically starts back in college when my car was broken into while I was parked at a Wal*Mart late at night. The passenger window was replaced by my insurance company, but a few years later the window started to act weird. When rolled down, it would sort of pitch forward and it took quite a bit of work to roll it back up and shimmy it into place. For the last few years it has done this.

I'm usually quick on the draw about telling people not to roll it down. This particular evening I wasn't so quick. I picked up my friend Sara, who had graciously agreed to go with "big hair". More on that later. Anyway, I picked her up and before I even thought about telling her not to roll the window down... she did. And the window pitched forward.

"No big deal," I thought. I'll just shimmy it back into place when we get where we are going. When we arrived, I swung around the car and casually went through the ritual I have done so many times before. I grasped the top edge of the window with my right hand, while I rolled the window up with my left hand. I applied the slightest amount of pressure to the window crank, then "pop", shattered glass sprayed everywhere. The window just disintegrated in front of me. My right hand still held a few chunks and was just stunned for a few seconds. Sara shrieked when the window popped and seemed just as stunned. This was a fantastic show for the two event workers that were on their break and just happened to watch everything.

I laughed it off and thought, "Well, what else can I do but go have a good time?" I did just that.

Kick Cancer's Butt!, the organization that I have been working for, was holding a Texas Hold'em event to raise money for the Georgia Cancer Foundation. The dress code was cowboy sheek (sp?), which, I was told, meant cowboy hat, tux jacket, tux shirt, bow tie, blue jeans, a big belt buckle and boots. With the exception of the belt buckle, that's just what I did.

Of course the ladies were supposed to dress up like cowgirls. Sara humored me and dressed up in a cowgirl hat (tiger striped), rhinestone covered blouse, a tiger striped skirt, and, of course, the big Texas-style hair. She had a lot of fun with it.

Yea, fun.