Louis, Louis, Part Two. A Ring Grabber & Delayed Celebrations.

I gave you my first impression after arriving to the hotel in Louisville and our interesting conversation with the receptionist; I still giggle when I think about her. She was sweet, but obviously didn’t have a lot of life/social skills.

While we were checking in, I was reading a placard on the wall about the Famous dish that this hotel is known for: the creation of the Hot Brown.

I can’t tell you where my brain went when I first read Hot Brown…but that’s only because inside I’m still 13 years old.

Ten minutes after unpacking we headed downstairs to the restaurant because this girl, as usual was hungry and now I needed a Hot Brown.

We walked up to the hostess stand and upon my quick gaze across the restaurant, I’d noticed the place was pretty busy which is a good sign even though, the place looked like our room: Tired.

The hostess sat us down and she stood in front of our table (and me) for a moment when a waitress came around the corner, saw the Coach and said: Hey Gentlemen, I’ll be right with you.

We smirked, I said in my deepest voice: THANK YOU, as she passed the hostess, then caught a glimpse of me who is indeed not a man. Hell, I’m not even a manly girl, but stuff like this does not offend me.

A few minutes later the waitress who mistook me for a man approached our table with a bazillion apologies OVER AND OVER; not necessary, but could you please take my food order before I nibble on your hand?

Speaking of hands…

All of a sudden, she looked at my left hand, GASPED and then GRABBED my ring while my hand that was still attached, followed!

I was caught off guard by her reaction, but decided that if I shanked her for this infraction, it could possibly delay my lunch.

She told me how gorgeous my ring was, I thanked her and explained that it was a gift ‘from this guy for our 25th anniversary,’ as I pointed at Coach.

Finally, after she thought I was a man, apologized profusely, grabbed my Rock and took our order, (we both ordered a petite Hot Brown), she was gone.

THREE MINUTES LATER another waitress dropped two petite Hot Browns on our table.

We were surprised, as the other tables around us, who had been there before we sat down still didn’t have food.

We let the waitress know immediately these must not be ours and she quickly took them to the next table. Those people said: nope, not ours. She continued to the next table: those people also said NOPE, not ours.

Finally our Ring grabbing waitress came by and said that the Now Traveling Petite Hot Brown’s were, in fact, ours.

Our Hot Brown’s were delicious; I gave my perfectly crisped and cholesterol filled bacon to the Coach.

We started eating and the Coach noticed one of the tables behind me started complaining to the waitress that they were waiting forever for their food.

ME: Just keep eating. I’m not giving up my plate again

We enjoyed our lunch and I felt a nap coming on. I was ready to get to our Deluxe Celebrity Suite, so we asked our weirdly inappropriate waitress for our check. She said: PLEASE, JUST HOLD ON, I HAVE SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR YOU.

Can you even guess what she had for us?

I think I should hold off sharing and let you guys guess.





I can’t wait any longer!

She proudly brought us a flaming anniversary cake. Mind you, our 25th anniversary was 6 years, 4 months, 26 days ago.

That’s hot.

We just gave each other ‘a look’, thanked the waitress and nibbled on the cake that we didn’t really want. We’re not rude.

Some other highlights from our weekend: My girlfriend Aimee’s shirt said: I’m 50 Bitches! Which made me laugh every time I looked at her. We hung out at an inside/outside bar for a few hours on Saturday afternoon. It was fun to people watch; I had my first Moscow Mule and I wasn’t even in Moscow!

We had an amazing dinner at Repeal Steakhouse. We’d ordered way too much food. I had the waiter wrap it up for us and on our Uber ride back to the hotel we had the driver stop and Coach delivered the food to a very appreciative homeless gentleman.

I was shocked at the amount of homeless people in Louisville. It’s not the norm in our town.

We noticed there were NO police officers seen over our weekend. I’m not a fan of that since there were shady characters on every corner and I’m not referring to our friends. Did Kentucky defund the Popo?

Anyone celebrate a fake holiday to avoid an awkward conversation? Have you had a Moscow Mule while in Moscow or anywhere?


Louis-Louis, You’re How Old? Sharing Rooms With Weird Celebrities.

Last weekend the Coach and I took a little trip to Louisville, Kentucky to celebrate a friends 50th birthday. Why Louisville you ask? Well, these particular friends are connoisseurs of bourbon and apparently Kentucky is a Bourbon Mecca.

*Picture me wandering around looking for a wine bar in the land of whiskey.*

The Coach and I flew direct from GA and we were there in no time. I’d never been to Kentucky before and honestly, I had to look it up on a map for reference.

Is Kentucky considered The South? The North? Are Kentuckians considered Yankees? Midwesterners?


This might be the one time Coach booked a hotel room without checking it out first.

Did you know he is our/my travel agent? I don’t generally book rooms. Or flights. Or cars. Or criminals.

Me all the time: Where are we going? What time do I need to be ready? Do I need to pack my Hokas?

Our friends chose the hotel, so the Coach booked a room there. Let me add, we (he) waited until almost the last minute to book and all that was left was a very expensive suite.

A minute before we land. Me: Are we getting an Uber?

Coach: No, I rented a car.

See. I have no idea wha’t going on.

Hey, can someone explain to me what a Kept Woman is?

Anyhoo. We arrive at the hotel about 20 minutes after landing because my travel agent doesn’t eff around.

I had some clues, some red flags, as as you say as soon as we hit the valet stand that this ain’t no Four Seasons. This MIGHT be a Two Seasons on a good day.

This is a Historic Hotel, but that doesn’t mean everything should feel old and unkept. Right?

The Coach and I give our bags to the valet guy and then find the happy-to-help-us, very young, Receptionist. We were exchanging pleasantries as she checked us in.

Receptionist: So, what are you in town for?

We explain that we’re here to celebrate a friends 50th birthday.

Y’all. I’m not exagerattting. Her jaw dropped. Her eyes were bugging out. She was astonished as she said: F I F T Y?

It’s like she didn’t know people lived to be FIFTY.

And then, like a novice in the world as she’d never been told the things you don’t ask people: she asked us how old we were.


And us, being astonished and caught off guard, wondering when she would ask our religious views, political party affiliation and our annual income, well, we told her our ages.

She replied with:

You don’t look over 50!


And Oh, you’re in the suite? That SUITE!

Someone famous stayed in that SUITE!

I have a feeling she wasn’t supposed to gossip, but It took me all of four seconds to get her to spill the beans.

Have you ever heard of: Mel lost.his.marbles Gibson?

Yeah, that celebrity.

The Coach and I, still kind of astonished at what just transpired, head up to our CELEBRITY SUITE and once inside I declared that Mel must have stayed here around the time he filmed Lethal Weapon and this place hasn’t been updated since then.

I’m not a snob. (ok, just a tad) But if this hotel had an emotion, it would be Tired af.

But the funny thing is, we learned later that night that Mel out.of.touch.with.reality Gibson was actually there the weekend prior to us and not thirty seven years ago.

Times must be hard for him if he’s sinking to our level.


The room was ridiculously overpriced and certainly not a place you’d keep your eyes peeled for celebrities. I mean, unless you’re looking an accomplished softball famous Coach and A not-really well known Blogger.

He’s not a regular Coach, he’s a Luxury Coach.

The next morning while I was in the shower, I had a moment where I thought: Hell, Mel showered in here, and now here I am. I mean, it’s almost like we showered together. Right? Dang, I’ve already slept with Gary Busey, might as well add Mel to my Busy Bee Harlot List.

Within twenty minutes of settling into our old, outdated Celebrity Suite, we had another funny encounter in the restaurant, but you’ll have to wait till next week.

I know. How will you get through the weekend?

Anyone else check into a hotel that immediately gave you a bad/weird impression? Are you the one in charge of travel plans? How about people asking personal questions?


Lillie~Loves~Popcorn Update, Sunrise Or Sunset, Someone Has A Birthday

Thank you all for your good wishes last week regarding Lillie.

I wish I could say it’s been smooth sailing, but that would make me a liar and I’m not a fan of my pants being on fire. We’re still in the thick of it and my heart hurts on the daily.

Lillie enjoying happier days last year.

We’ve had some setbacks and you don’t need to know the not-so-fun details, but one funny, well, kinda funny thing I’ll share: Her lack of appetite. It’s been an issue since surgery and I need her to eat so I can hide her meds in the food. For a day chicken breast worked. The next day, it did not. Then I went to cheddar cheese; it worked for a day, then it didn’t. One night the Coach was eating Smart Pop and shouted from the next room: I’m eating popcorn and she wants some!

I mixed a bit of popcorn with some of her wet food. She picked out the popcorn, but then ate some of the wet food. The next day, I did the same thing with some of her kibble and wet food. She ate fairly well, I mean, it’s about 1/3 of what she generally will eat, but I feel like when she eats, I want to give myself a Gold Medal. This ‘win’ generally only happens in the evenings, not in the morning. Who knew that Popcorn is a meal incentive? Well, I mean, I knew that, but I didn’t know she knew that.

I’m trying to keep a positive attitude and hoping my little snickerdoodle heals and proceeds to live out a long life with us.


Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

A few weeks ago I went to a family birthday party for a two year old; my first cousins grandchild. My second cousins child. Actually second cousin calls me Aunt Suzanne, so she’s also my Niece. So my great nieces 2nd birthday party.

Are we as clear as mud?

Anyhoo, my almost niece, second cousin introduced me to one of her friends who is about her age; 28-30ish. My almost niece/second cousin always lived on the East Coast of FL until a few years ago, now she lives on my coast; The Cool Coast. I asked the Friend if she was from This Coast (pointing to the ground) or The East Coast (pointing behind me).

She looked puzzled so I thought I would make it easier for her.

Do you watch the sunset at your beach or do you watch the sunrise at your beach?

She looked even more perplexed by this complicated geography question I just threw at her; she shrugged her shoulders and replied that she didn’t know.

My almost niece/second cousin let me know that her friend lives on the East Coast, but she doesn’t wake up early enough to see the sunrise.

I thought to myself: she should still have a general idea where she resides.

I guess if you can’t see it, it just doesn’t happen; similar to that elusive refrigerator light. Does it go off after you shut the door? It’s just one of those universal mysteries I suppose.

I hope that little story made you giggle and you’re not depressed over Lillie. Leave that to me.

I have a birthday on Saturday and generally, I’m very excited about My Day. This year? I’m feeling very meh.

If we were to meet in person this weekend and finances weren’t a bother, what would we do together?


Some Might Call It An Addiction; I Just Refer To It As Something I Do Consistently. Like, On A Daily Basis.

You’d be surprised to know that I have a vice aside from wine.

Shocking, I know.

Gummy bears.

Sure, it’s kind of weird that a woman of my aptitude and aristocracy would enjoy smooshie candies in the shape of bears, but I’m here to tell you they are my favorite sweet snack.

Honestly, I’m not even tied to one brand. But they have to be either Hairbo or Albanese.

And never gummy worms; those are gross. I know they’re essentially the same thing but bears taste better than worms because cuteness matters.

You might not believe me, but when the serving size says NINE bears. I will only eat NINE bears.

I might eat NINE bears twice a day, but never at the same sitting.

After nine, I get up, move somewhere else, sit and have nine more.

It’s not rocket science people, you too can sit in different places when you eat.

Kidding. I really don’t eat them everyday.

Ok, maybe I have them 6 out of 7 days. That doesn’t mean I’m addicted.

I keep them in my car. My office drawer. A drawer in the kitchen. And maybe some in my purse.


Hold on…

I was getting tired with all this typing and needed some Gummy Bear Power.

Did I tell you they have ZERO cholesterol? I’m basically eating fruit so think of all the vitamin C I’m ingesting. No wonder I hardly ever get sick.

On one of our drives to Georgia last year I was nibbling on some bears when the Coach asked me:

What are they even made of?

Me: JOY and HAPPINESS. But really, I have no idea. Probably gelatin and the breath of angels.

For Christmas this year Lindsay’s best friend gifted me with five pounds of gummy bears.


Can you even imagine my delight?


When was the last time you enjoyed a sweet delicious made from gelatin angels breath gummy bear?

Do you have a not-so-bad addiction that you’re not ashamed to share?