My funniest memory of my loverly car Cinderella was also classic dork on my part.

I named my Honda Accord Cinderella because she was svelte and perfect. I miss her still. But I have to tell you about this one incident with her. One that I chalk up to one of my Top Ten Most Embarrassing Moments...top Embarrassing Car Moment for sure.

At the time I was working at Barnes and Noble. I'd work late and of course, it was worth it to support the Bee Clans book buying habits. Discounts! woohoo!

I typically finished my shift at 11 or 11:30pm which meant I could wreck on my way home or stop for a Starbuck's bottled coffee and be up for a few hours. I usually was up anyway, so this was a good alternative to becoming roadkill.

On this particular night, I stopped in at the grocery, got my coffee and got back on the highway home. The deserted highway home was several miles of long stretch until I turned onto my road. This was enough time driving to get in a good nap (NOT) but tonight it was just me, my coffee, and the straight road. I would get unnerved by the deserted road but within 10 minutes I would have been walking into my house.

I grabbed the coffee bottle and peeled open the wrapper. I popped the lid and shifted gears.

MMMMmmm coffee!

I shifted again with open bottle in hand, attempting to steer at the same time. I started down the highway. I saw car lights coming up on me.

YAY! Headlights. A Highway Buddy!

It somehow made me feel safer with another car on the road but I still couldn't wait to get home. I stepped on the gas and shift into 5th gear. By this point, I was doing the octopus to keep from spilling, crashing, or shifting down.

On a side note, don't you just hate that when you shift down and not up. As you read in my earlier post, you end up plastered to the windshield with the RPMs completely in the red, and the car ready to blow a rod. If you are laughing right now, you have done this yourself, you dork. Okay, so have I, moving on....

With my mind on my warm bed waiting for me, I was juggling in the front seat and passing Highway Buddy in the fast lane. All of a sudden I was startled with a car horn blaring at me.

"BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE..........."

It continued on,

"BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE .....EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE......"

I immediately got sick to my stomach.

WHAT IS HE DOING!

I was right next to this person and they were speeding up.

What the heck??? I don't know them, do I? Are they psycho? I've ticked off Highway Buddy and now he is going to ram me off the road like some lame USA Cable movie. I'll be buried in a shallow grave off the highway with nothing but my wedding ring to identify me!!

I put my foot in it, scared to death. I look over. He is STILL blaring his horn at me. He continued to speed up, trying to keep pace.

"BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE..."

By this time, my life was flashing before me. I could see glinting eyes looking over at me through the dark.

Lord HELP ME! I have some sicko road-rager after me. I'M GONNA DIE!

.....EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!!!!"

After about, what seemed 30 seconds of blaring, the noise finally stopped. Finally. My heart was racing and I punched it. I saw his lights in my rear view mirror and glanced down to see how fast I was going.

85mph. Just. Get. Home.

Then I saw my problem and it hit me.

In my tiredness, shifting gears and haste to get home, I managed to press my own Starbucks bottle against the horn button on my steering wheel.

I was honking. At my own self.

Dumb ass.

I wanted to die of embarrassment. Although, I bet you a Starbuck's Coffee that Highway Buddy probably lost a day of his life in sheer fright of the Highway Road Rager in the Honda Accord.

~Bee does stupid things when she is tired.

I woke up this morning with an epiphany of a blog and so I write:

Hi, I'm Blog.

I'd thought I'd write and tell my cre8buzzers and The BlogMan how much I blog to write.

I was introduced to blogging by a friend about 3 blogs ago. I had no blog it would be so much fun. I get to write and expand that creative blog of me that I discovered lying dormant for so blog.

I’m a woman who blogs to write. Ever since my blogs went back to school, I get online and write away to my blog's content. Now everything I do has turned into an hobby of creative blogging. I can’t blog around without thinking, "That could go in my blog!".

I hear a blog on the radio. Coldplay singing of the "Speed of Blogs" or the Ting Tings singing, "Shut up and Let Me Blog". It's always at the forefront of my blog.

I turned on TV and I see McBlogger on Grey's Anatomy and Gordon Ramsey yelling to the blogs on Hell's Kitchen, "SHUT the BLOG UP!" I can't stop thinking about the blog of my next post.

Maybe I should just get out of my house, jump in my blog and take the blogs to Blogs R Us. I could take them to the park to blog on the slide to get some fresh blog in their lungs.

I know I shouldn’t be so blog on myself for exploring this side of me. I have very little outlets to meet other blogs like me, with four blogs and a wonderful Mr. Blog.

Maybe I am making this into a blog deal. Do you think I’m a blog addict? I blog not.

Well, I really need to blog to this laundry and the kitchen needs to be worked over with a fine tooth blog. My house is such a mess and no one likes a dirty blog, you know. I will make sure to get blog to you later.

Till then,
Bee Blog

Fifth grade was a very hard year for me. I discovered boys. I discovered Lawman jeans were cool. I discovered friends could stab you in the back and that hygiene couldn't be taken care of by a shake of baking soda.

You see, my parents were under the opinion that with four girls, deodorant was an expensive commodity we could do without. This, especially when baking soda was cheap and always available in the kitchen.

Deodorant cost $3 a stick. I mean, who has that kind of money?

This was bad news for me. I have always been a Sweaty Betty. (no offense to Betty). The payoff is great skin, but you are always sweaty. The bane of my existence has been deodorant and B.O. related from the start of second grade.

I recall that dark day when my stepmom handed us four girls a set of shakers to share. These shakers were rather like the red pepper flake dispensers at the pizza parlor, except these things were full of baking soda.

To shake. Into your pits.

It doesn't take a science major to know that baking soda is prone to clumping in wet environments. And it did.

Every morning I would faithfully shake baking soda into the caverns of my arms. I'd end up spilling white powder on my clothes and hating the moment that would come a few hours later. The moment of catching wind of my fragrant..er..., flagrant self.

Being an odoriferous sort, I would nearly die of embarrassment when I would nonchalantly raise my arm and a small clod of baking soda would fall out of my armpit. It would happen at the most inopportune times. Seriously. No boy would come within ten feet of me. I stood three heads taller and was marked with white clods and raging B.O. That's hawt!

I would pray, "PLEASE let there be no clods in my pits. PLEASE let their be no clods in my pits." It was mortifying. By mid morning though, you'd think my body was having some gruesome white clod fall out.

Despite my baking soda pits, B.O., and dusted t-shirts, I had trouble making friends. I remember one morning, going over to my desk to start my school day.

There it sat. A gigantic, Sunny D yellow, toile-covered basket perched upon my desk. This was not any basket, it was a JEAN NATE' bath and body basket. I stood dumbfounded wondering who would be so kind to do that? Soap, lotions, a little deodorant, and more soap....all in that glorious golden yellow packaging. I was so excited. I felt special.

I didn't realize, the assistant teacher was giving it to me because I stunk like jockey shorts. She may have thought that I (or my parents) needed some help in that department. I can remember my stepmom coming unglued when she found out I was given this basket by a teacher. Naturally, I didn't understand. Why it was such an offensive gift? I had baking soda covering my pits. My B.O. couldn't have been that bad!

Add big teeth, bean pole body, mean school mates, and a slight awkwardness. That would pretty much be my fifth grade year in a nut shell. No, there was also the lunches...but I'll save that for next post.

I'm thankful now for that embarrassing lesson. Fifth grade could have been easier but I'm armed with first-hand memories to know exactly how my daughter feels at this age.

For the record. I already buy them deodorant. You can be Sure of that.

I filed electronically this year. It was the very next day after filing and learning we owe $383, Mr Coffee found a folder of job receipts in his desk. We are self-employed. I immediately amended our filing after burying his body. HAHA, no really. It was just his head.

We had calculated an overage and return of $885. I was very happy, unearthed Mr. Coffee, and we mailed the sucker off, certified. The IRS received it in late March.

There is a tiny little problem, though. To receive your economic stimulus check, you not only had to file your 2007 taxes, but also have it processed by the IRS by April 15th of this year.

Our first electronic filing was received and processed in March. To date? Our amendment has not.

So, what did the Cogs That Mesh So Effortlessly do at the IRS? Those dim bulbs took out the $383 bucks we supposedly owed and failed to pay. $383 has been deducted from our stimulus check which is already two weeks late. I checked the IRS site and it says we are scheduled to get what's left of our stimulating check by Friday.

Once the IRS gets around to processing our amendment within the next month (totaling 8 to 12 weeks), we should be getting our refund as well as the $383 they docked. Who's to bet they get that wrong?

Classic IRS run-around. I even think I hear kazoo music.

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