the conrado

I've always wanted to tell people about the Wendys near my office.  Gilbert Avenue Wendys is a lunch-time treasure, not unlike a dinner theater. You get food and a show.   I've been going to this particular Wendys once every few months, since I was 17 years old.  You can only go once every few months because it's a very intense experience. The line is about 12 cars long at any given lunch hour, but don't be afraid of the line because no matter how long it is, it's only going to take 5 minutes to get through it.  If the line gets too out of control they have a guy out in the parking lot with a headset on, calling in orders.  This usually ends in disaster with the lady at the pay window cussing out the guy in the lot because her headset is now blowing up with two sets of orders; the ones from headset guy in the lot and the one from the main speaker that headset guy in the lot couldn't get to quick enough. If you are ever lucky enough to be there when the two of...

I mentioned in an earlier post about how I went through cars like  disposable contact lenses , and how that was another story for another day.  Well, today is that day.  I blame my dad for my uncanny ability to destroy cars because he's been known to have a "fender bender" or two. My favorite dad-crashed-another-car-story was when my dad backed into something in my mom's new(ish) white minivan and then just slapped some white wall paint over the 2X3 foot black spot.  We barely noticed.   I mean, come on... would this guy crash a car? On my 13th birthday, my dad taught me how to drive in the parking lot of a grocery store because that's the age he and I both felt I was ready. I had to wait 3 more years to legally drive, but I won't lie and say that I didn't drive any cars while I waited.  It's not really driving unless you're on the highway, right? I'm pretty sure that's where my trouble with the law really began.  My 16th birthday f...

You need to read the first half of this story to really understand how I ended up in jail - twice.  Two years after my first 5-hour jail stay in Hamilton County, I was quite proud of myself for keeping my nose clean for so long. I was married to an actual adult and we'd purchased our first home and all was well (well, I may have gotten a ticket or two over the course of those two years, but who keeps track of those types of things?) .  I wanted to have my new Over-The-Rhine address on my drivers license since I had "recently" moved from our first little house in Northern Kentucky to our hip, new grown-up loft on 12th and Republic (which was the first "crack-house-drug-dealer-war-zone"  I lived in, according to my dad ). I say "recently" loosely because it had been a solid year since I'd moved.  When I arrived at the BMV, I was informed that I was driving on a suspended license (GASP.. Impossible!!).  I argued with the lady for awhile an...

I've been to jail - twice.  I know what you're thinking, " preacher's kids " really ARE the worst!" I'm about to prove you right. I don't mind writing about this because I'm certain that someday when my husband runs for president, there is going to be some sort of background check and it's going to be so scandalous when they post my mugshot online and Entertainment Tonight starts airing the teaser for the story about Jason Riveiro's Wife Behaving Badly . I think it would be better if you hear it straight from me.   Early 20's Hannah was a heck of a lot of fun. You'd definitely want to hang out and party with her, but you wouldn't really want her to house-sit for you, run an errand for you, watch your kids, expect her to show up on time, return your phone call, pay you back that money she owed you or trust that she would do anything remotely responsible in any way. Once I was out from under the watchful, responsible ey...

My original intention for starting this blog was to introduce the world to my Dad.  I understand that most people who read this most likely know him, but you may not know him the way I do.  wayne As I told you in my first post , I'm a preachers kid.  My brother Jeremy read a statistic that the average time a pastor stays with the same church is typically 7 years... my Dad stayed with the same church for 30 years .   I'm not quite 30 years old, so if you do the math, he's been at this thing since before I was born.    Now, if Jeremy is anything like his little sister, he could have very well made up that statistic. I like to rattle off fake statistics to give weight to an argument, but I have to be careful and only do that when I'm 100% sure that no one is going to look it up on-the-spot and call me on my bull.  It's gotten tough lately with the invention of the iPhone. Everyone has the truth at their fingertips and I can hardly get away with...