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?


Unremarkable What? And It’s Time For Me To Leave You.

Lillie’s surgeon suggested we look into an oncologist in case auxiliary treatments might be needed for her tumor/cancer.

I was hesitant. The Coach really thought it was overkill and worried they would want do do ‘something’ no matter what. But I had this intense desire to NOT to go through what we’ve just gone through again if this resurfaced; which can happen. It was a daunting time for all of us, but mostly Lillie. And me. Ok, mostly her, but I do have a bit of PTSD from that ordeal.

What always happens when I bring her in for an appointment (if there are NO other critters in the vicinity) the techs, Dr’s, receptionists can’t stop oohing and awing at her cuteness.

This particular visit was no different.


A few minutes into us being in the exam room with the Dr, after she declared Lillie to be The Cutest Ever, Lillie heard none of that, and proceeded to pee like she’s not pee’d in days. Thanks girl, that’s not embarrassing.

Then as we are checking out with the receptionist, a gentleman walks in with his large docile dog and Lillie proceeds to lose her shit and go all Cujo right there in the lobby. I can hardly get out my credit card while holding my 14 pound beast who wants to eat this sweet 90 pound innocent dog. Thanks girl., that’s not embarrassing.

Funny how no one said she was cute while that was happening.

The good news is the Dr. said nothing needed to be done now, but I’ll take her back in a month and have them look at a semi-enlarged gland.

A few hours later they emailed me details of her exam and this was one part that caught my eye:

Lillie was bright, alert and responsive on presentation. Lillie was well hydrated. No obvious oral tumors. Eyes were within normal limits.
She is missing the majority of her right pinna, otherwise ears were unremarkable.

Um, excuse me? Unremarkable? They might be the MOST remarkable ear(s). But I do understand the ‘well hydrated’ part as she did create a puddle.

my all time fave pic of Cujo Lillie.

I’m shocked they didn’t note her aggressive behavior and penchant for peeing in public.

Well guys, I’m leaving. I’ve had it up to here with all of you.


I am leaving though. Lillie and I will be in GA all next week (she requested Mountain Time) and I’ll be gone most of October to parts unknown. Although, truth be told, I do know the parts.

I might pop in and read when I have a moment and I might pop a post in if time is on my side, but I also might not. I make no promises, but please promise me you won’t do anything fun or exciting while I’m away. Or else.

*Edited to add: I will be prepping our house for a hurricane prior to my departure. 😏


Does your pet ever embarrass you?

I’m Back, But That Doesn’t Always Mean I Know Where I Am And Building My Case For The Future.

We departed our home once again; this time to Georgia for nine days. NINE. Can you even keep up with me? Do you even want to? I’m finding it difficult. In between our trip to Charleston and Georgia, we spent a long weekend at our rental condo since it was now empty.

I swear, I wake up in the middle of the night and a lot of the time, I’m perplexed by my surroundings. Am I at a hotel? Home? Where the Eff am I?

Anyhoo, whenever we go away, I think to myself: I’ll be able to post here and there. I’ll be able to keep up with some of you.

Lies. All lies. Some of you have a lot to say it’s hard to keep up. You know who you are.

We are home again and now I’ll spend the next 47 days trying to catch up.

It’s getting wet in here

Just before we left, on a rainy Sunday we experienced something new in our kitchen. It was a full fledged Water Feature via our stove exhaust. I’m not talking about drips, it was a waterfall.

I just shook my head as I’ve kind of had it up to-HERE- with this house and the maintenance. (We had a complete new roof in 2019)

This was after a bit of drying/cleaning up.

The roofers wouldn’t be able to get to us until Wednesday; on Monday I noticed this approaching from the east and feared the worst.


All is well after a temporary patch job but this just adds to the Case I’m Building in regards to downsizing. There’s been a few discussions on who is moving and it doesn’t appear to be the both of us.



Lolo and Linds, don’t call me, I promise we’re NOT splitting.

But if we did, who would you want to live with?

Oh, wait, you don’t even live here. But I know you would choose ME because I’m the fun one!

Did I miss anything big? Like, were you lucky enough to install a waterfall into the middle of your kitchen?