HOT and No Bloody Power!!!

Bloody hell, but I'm still tired. I went to bed at 8:30 just like I had planned and was just getting comfortable and settled in when the friggin' power went out (around 8:40 p.m.), and when I left this morning at 5:15 it was still out. Talk about an uncomfortable night. WTF is with the power going out only when it's 95 fucking Fahrenheit degrees and 95% humidity? Why does it never go out when it's 75 and comfortable with a beautiful breeze???? Fuckin' A! I just want to sleep. And even though I live a five MINUTE WALK from work, they have full fucking power. And if I think about it, I'm not really upset because at least I'm not sweltering at home.

And how the hell does it manage to be this bloody fucking hot and not be sunny??? I mean it's grey and hazy as shit outside. I don't know about you, but if it's going to be 95˚F and humid as shit, I want to see the bloody sun!!! Yes, I'm cranky. I've gotten so little sleep over the past five days it's not funny!!! And this shit is to last until Friday. *sigh* If we could have just combined this summer with last summer, we could have had two perfect summers instead of a cold and rainy one and a hotter than fucking shit one.

I messed up big time this past weekend. Thursday was one of those days. I packed at 5:15 a.m. and managed to forget the race tickets. ARGH!!! I got to the RRI, checked in and got Mom and Nephew settled in one room and I got settled in the other and then it hit me that I had forgotten to pack the damn tickets. I was so not happy. I like driving and all but I was not in the mood to drive back to Detroit and then back to Cleveland. I would have been getting back around midnight. Thankfully before I actually got into my car and started the trek I remembered that Ursa was driving down the next day and since she does live directly beneath my apartment, it wouldn't be too much of a hardship for her to get the tix. And I was pretty sure that Friday General Admission tickets were only $5 (they were), and I'd use up more in gas than $15 driving back and forth. I call her up and start the conversation thusly: "Urs, I'm a fucking moron." Yes, I said this in front of Mom and Nephew. I was very upset with myself. "I forgot the fucking tickets. Can you go to Chris and get the keys to my apt.?" "I have your extra set of keys, remember?" "Oh yeah! I tell her where the tickets are and she calls me back later to say she had them. I paid for Mom and Nephew on Friday since it was my fault and only $5 apiece. OOMA reminded Ursa multiple times when packing NOT to forget the tickets or I would kill her. I wouldn't have since it would have been my fault and not hers. Thank God she did not forget the bloody things.

In fifteen years of going to races I have never forgotten my tickets. And I have a feeling that I never will again. I was going to put my Toronto tickets into my carry-on bag, but then remembered that I'm going Up North this coming Saturday and I don’t want to lose them, but I might put them in my racing backpack – along with my passport. And my racing friend HRH indicated that she will never forget hers now because she'll always remember me forgetting mine. I like to be helpful by example.

The race weekend was a brilliant success – 6 different series, 8 races, all with their own drama and I saw many many friends. We discussed the F1 debacle from Indy the weekend before and of course, how much we hate the IRL (except for DH1 who took HRH on discussing the relative merits of each series). I had to turn away from that conversation as it makes me crazy when people say nice things about the IRL. Please remember this, if you remember nothing else, TFG (Tony George, owner of IMS and fucktard that started the IRL) and the IRL are evil. That is all.

My friend Jim (did I ever write about the person who left a note on my car after he saw my license plate and all the Champ Car stickers on it?) showed up at the race track wearing his Tony George is an asshole T-shirt and it was a huge hit. I was sitting in the grandstands and saw him heading up. He got stopped by my friend Erich who was sitting further down the grandstand and shook Jim's hand and congratulated him on the shirt. I went down and introduced them, officially. Jim got stopped by 7 separate people on Sunday who simply wanted to take his picture in the shirt. And to top it all off, he went into the paddock on Saturday where the teams loved the shirt. The Forsythe team gave him and his two other friends official team hats (he was nice enough to give it to HRH since she's a huge Forsythe fan). The Newman/Haas hospitality guy told him to come back on Sunday wearing the same shirt (it was hot, so I'm not sure how fabulous of an idea this was, but he was game) and he would drink free beer all day. Well, the next day Jim goes back and the guy was there and said, "Can you hang around for a few minutes? I have someone I want you to meet. Here, have a beer." So, Jim hung around and waited about ten minutes, and then the guy comes back with Paul Newman. Yes, THE Paul Newman of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid fame. Paul LOVED Jim's shirt and shook his hand and laughed and laughed. Jim got his picture taken with Paul Newman!!! I couldn't friggin' believe it!!! Paul Newman is notoriously shy about shit like that, especially at the race track where he doesn't want to be viewed as Paul Newman The Actor, but Paul Newman the Race Car Owner (and sometime Driver). He (Jim, not Paul Newman) called me from the friggin' paddock to tell me about it. I told him he fucking sucked. Paul Newman also invited him back to the paddock after the race to hang with him and drink beer. Yes, I'm officially jealous. I've been going to races for 15 years, spending shitloads of money and I get nothing, but the fabulous fun for which I'm going, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to be acknowledged as a super fan and given free official team swag. I'm going to make myself a t-shirt that says: Tony George is a F*****G A-Hole. Do you think that'll get me a free beer? ;-)

Keep your fingers all crossed that the friggin' power is on when I get home. I can't wait to reset all the stupid clocks again.