For the last month IT Girl and I have been planning a Roommate Reunion for the weekend before Christmas. We had a great plan - I would pick her up from the airport on Thursday night, and Friday we would work from my house and then go to the grocery store for dinner ingredients. While making dinner we would drink wine and watch movies. Saturday night we'd go out on the town and Sunday I'd take her home.
Thursday and Friday went just as planned. Dinner was delicious and oh the wine we drank (I was disappointed in the movie, but one can't have everything). We were a little tipsy when we went to bed, but surely we'd recover in time for Saturday night drinks and dancing.
How wrong I was...
Imagine my disappointment in waking up at 1:30 Saturday morning to find that I'd been infected by the Hantavirus (ok, maybe I'm being a little dramatic). I was very congested, coughing, achy all over, and my head was pounding. I thought I could attribute achy and headachy to the wine, but to my knowledge it had never caused congestion and coughing, so I was pretty sure there was something else wrong. There was - I had the flu.
IT and I were still determined to go out that night, so I popped some Airborne, vitamin C, and ibuprofen and went to the couch to get some more sleep. No luck. I woke up around 9 am sicker than before.
After spending 2 days drugged up and in quarantine and another day on the couch, I am feeling a little better. However, I do not think IT has fared so well. I got a text message from her this morning that said she thought she was dying.
Sorry....
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
25 Things I Want To Do In My Lifetime
I was at Glinda's* the other day and she was telling me about a page that her scrapbook teacher did with 25 things she wanted to do before she turned 25. (Yes, I threw up a little in my mouth as well.)
But I often think about things that I want to do and I forget to write them down, so I thought I would post a blog with the info to remember it all...
1. See a baseball game in every Major League Stadium. (I've done Colorado, Boston, and Arizona so far. BodyBuilder* has talked about doing this with me, in which case I would have to start over with her)
2. Go to Mount Rushmore.
3. Master a signature dish.
4. Eat pizza in Italy.
5. Flamenco dance in Spain.
6. Drink in Ireland.
7. See the Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center.
8. Get married.
9. Become proficient in Spanish.
10. Write a book.
11. Publish that book.
12. Give birth.
13. Learn to surf.
14. Visit all 50 states.
15. Learn to ballroom dance.
16.
Shoot - that's all I can think of right now. If I've ever told you something that's not on this list - please let me know...
But I often think about things that I want to do and I forget to write them down, so I thought I would post a blog with the info to remember it all...
1. See a baseball game in every Major League Stadium. (I've done Colorado, Boston, and Arizona so far. BodyBuilder* has talked about doing this with me, in which case I would have to start over with her)
2. Go to Mount Rushmore.
3. Master a signature dish.
4. Eat pizza in Italy.
5. Flamenco dance in Spain.
6. Drink in Ireland.
7. See the Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center.
8. Get married.
9. Become proficient in Spanish.
10. Write a book.
11. Publish that book.
12. Give birth.
13. Learn to surf.
14. Visit all 50 states.
15. Learn to ballroom dance.
16.
Shoot - that's all I can think of right now. If I've ever told you something that's not on this list - please let me know...
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Thanks, Speedy God...
Ok, bloggers, I'm going to get serious here for a minute, please bear with me. (When inspiration strikes me, it would be rude of me not to share with you, my loyal fans.)
Last week, my mom's cousin passed away. It was sudden and unexpected. This particular woman happened to also be the pediatrician for all of the children in my family. She was a hardcore doctor. (She yelled at my mom when I was very small and my mom took me in for a check-up only to find out I had walking pneumonia...who would have thunk it?) Yet, I can't imagine what our lives would have been like had we gone to another pediatrician. My nephew was also a patient of hers, and the few times I went in with Sissy* for his medical needs, the office still looked and smelled the same. It is true that some things never change.
Anyway, the funeral was yesterday and as I sat in the church next to Bunner* going through mass, I remembered that when I was a small child I used to think that after the 1st and 2nd readings the response was, "Thanks, Speedy God." (Perhaps only the Catholics will get that.) It made me smile a little and I leaned over to Bunner and told him.
On our way to the burial, I told the rest of the family that story and they all laughed.
Let me back up a minute, the eulogy was delivered by the niece of the deceased and she did an amazing job. I hope that some day someone will say such nice things about me. But, in part of her letter she asked, "why did it have to happen so suddenly." Later on in the day my mom mentioned that there are Italian women all over the world praying the rosary that when it is their time to go, it happens suddenly. (I was a little bothered by that.)
Tonight I was thinking about that again (I honestly have no idea why), and it occurred to me that maybe I wasn't so far off the mark, thanking a speedy God. Perhaps Dr. D thanked him too when she got to the pearly gates.
Last week, my mom's cousin passed away. It was sudden and unexpected. This particular woman happened to also be the pediatrician for all of the children in my family. She was a hardcore doctor. (She yelled at my mom when I was very small and my mom took me in for a check-up only to find out I had walking pneumonia...who would have thunk it?) Yet, I can't imagine what our lives would have been like had we gone to another pediatrician. My nephew was also a patient of hers, and the few times I went in with Sissy* for his medical needs, the office still looked and smelled the same. It is true that some things never change.
Anyway, the funeral was yesterday and as I sat in the church next to Bunner* going through mass, I remembered that when I was a small child I used to think that after the 1st and 2nd readings the response was, "Thanks, Speedy God." (Perhaps only the Catholics will get that.) It made me smile a little and I leaned over to Bunner and told him.
On our way to the burial, I told the rest of the family that story and they all laughed.
Let me back up a minute, the eulogy was delivered by the niece of the deceased and she did an amazing job. I hope that some day someone will say such nice things about me. But, in part of her letter she asked, "why did it have to happen so suddenly." Later on in the day my mom mentioned that there are Italian women all over the world praying the rosary that when it is their time to go, it happens suddenly. (I was a little bothered by that.)
Tonight I was thinking about that again (I honestly have no idea why), and it occurred to me that maybe I wasn't so far off the mark, thanking a speedy God. Perhaps Dr. D thanked him too when she got to the pearly gates.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Secret Lover...
And when I say secret, I mean, Double Super Secret. I don't even know his name.
Today, Diddy and I headed down to Willcox Livestock Auction for a fun-filled day at the Special Sale. As I mentioned previously, our outings are typically quite eventful (and in case you are wondering, he has not yet purchased the power cord that I can plug into the cigarette lighter...). We always knew Willcox would be super eventful, well because it's Willcox - need I say more? And I can tell you truly that it did not disappoint today!
To start off, we were standing outside of the sale barn enjoying the rainy weather when SuperStalker* approached us. Right off I could tell a few things about this gent - 1. He hadn't showered in at least a week. 2. There was something just not right about him. and 3. I didn't want to get trapped in a conversation with him alone.
So, Diddy and I indulged him for a little bit and listen to his babbling. Then we excused ourselves to get back to work. Unfortunately, he must have been mesmerized by my striking beauty, because he began stalking me. If I went outside - he went outside, if I was in the lobby - he was in the lobby. Always smiling at me with half-rotten teeth and talking nonsense to Diddy. I'm not going to lie - it was frightening, but nothing compared to what happened next.
There is a crazy family who resides in southern Arizona and has for a long time. They have a long history of being just a little left of center, sanity-wise. So they were at WLA today in full force. As I was working, I was introduced to one of them. The following conversation ensued:
Me: Hi. Nice to meet you, I'm Airplane
Him: Is PapaBear you're dad?
Me: Yes.
Him: Very nice to meet you.
(At this point I try to shake his hand, but he hugs me.)
Man Next to Him (MNTH): He's always hugging the pretty ladies.
Him: Nothing wrong with that, is there?
MNTH: Only if they have big boyfriends.
Him (to me): Do you have a boyfriend?
Me: No (Why, oh why am I so honest?)
Him: Do you want one?
Me: (in my most polite voice) No, thank you.
Him: I have a son who's 30. How old are you?
Me: 26
Him: Would you like to meet him?
Me: (scared that the son may be at the sale barn, just smile nervously)
Him: I'll give you his number.
He proceeds to write his son's phone number down on the back of a raffle ticket and hand it to me. I can not make this up, people. I was traumatized.
Today, Diddy and I headed down to Willcox Livestock Auction for a fun-filled day at the Special Sale. As I mentioned previously, our outings are typically quite eventful (and in case you are wondering, he has not yet purchased the power cord that I can plug into the cigarette lighter...). We always knew Willcox would be super eventful, well because it's Willcox - need I say more? And I can tell you truly that it did not disappoint today!
To start off, we were standing outside of the sale barn enjoying the rainy weather when SuperStalker* approached us. Right off I could tell a few things about this gent - 1. He hadn't showered in at least a week. 2. There was something just not right about him. and 3. I didn't want to get trapped in a conversation with him alone.
So, Diddy and I indulged him for a little bit and listen to his babbling. Then we excused ourselves to get back to work. Unfortunately, he must have been mesmerized by my striking beauty, because he began stalking me. If I went outside - he went outside, if I was in the lobby - he was in the lobby. Always smiling at me with half-rotten teeth and talking nonsense to Diddy. I'm not going to lie - it was frightening, but nothing compared to what happened next.
There is a crazy family who resides in southern Arizona and has for a long time. They have a long history of being just a little left of center, sanity-wise. So they were at WLA today in full force. As I was working, I was introduced to one of them. The following conversation ensued:
Me: Hi. Nice to meet you, I'm Airplane
Him: Is PapaBear you're dad?
Me: Yes.
Him: Very nice to meet you.
(At this point I try to shake his hand, but he hugs me.)
Man Next to Him (MNTH): He's always hugging the pretty ladies.
Him: Nothing wrong with that, is there?
MNTH: Only if they have big boyfriends.
Him (to me): Do you have a boyfriend?
Me: No (Why, oh why am I so honest?)
Him: Do you want one?
Me: (in my most polite voice) No, thank you.
Him: I have a son who's 30. How old are you?
Me: 26
Him: Would you like to meet him?
Me: (scared that the son may be at the sale barn, just smile nervously)
Him: I'll give you his number.
He proceeds to write his son's phone number down on the back of a raffle ticket and hand it to me. I can not make this up, people. I was traumatized.
G-Unit Soldiers...
Last night was a milestone.
Almost a year after graduating from the University of Arizona, where he attended for four and a half years, Diddy went to his first Wildcat basketball game at McKale Center. It was very interesting, but not for anything that happened on the court.
You see, Banana's* dad (Papa G-Unit*), has season tickets and she gets to attend most games because it is a long drive from the C-wood to McKale. When we realized that Diddy and I would be making an overnight stay in T Town the night of a game she had tickets to - it seemed only reasonable that all of us would go.
There was only one problem - Papa G only has two seats. But, left to her own devices, Banana is very smart and she figured that the seat next to her is never sold. So she purchased a ticket in the nosebleed section (literally against that back wall of the arena) and figured one of us would sit in the unsold seat. No problem - right? Wrong!
To start off, Papa G's tickets are not just any tickets - they are in the front row (quite conspicuous). So as the game was getting ready to start the Seat Nazi* came over and asked to see everyone's tickets. Well, Banana didn't have the ticket for the seat so he made her move. She figured she would move up to the student section to sit with HHT* and all would be right in the world. Wrong again!
Seat Nazi was out to get her! As she was sitting in the student section with HHT (and no wristband), he appeared behind her seats. She had to hide from him! He was crazy and was ruining her game-watching experience, so she decided to move to her nosebleed seat for the remainder of the first half.
Let me back up a minute here and tell you that after Banana moved to the student section, Dances With Wolves* moved into the seat that she was going to use. (Diddy and I may or may not have caused a little ruckus about this.)
So...halftime arrives and SuperFan* comes over to see why we have been playing musical chairs all night. We tell her the story and she may or may not have caused a second ruckus with the Event Staff. Turns out Dances With Wolves held the ticket for that seat (shady I tell you) so we were stuck.
Luckily, SuperFan is called that for a reason and she had an extra seat in the third row of the student section where Banana sat for the second half of the game. The Cats won in a blow-out and much to Diddy's dismay my UofA shoes were a big hit!!! (I'll post a pic of the shoes when I get back home.)
So, kids, the moral of today's story is: If you ever become a "Customer Relations" person for McKale Center don't mess with the G-Unit family or you just might find yourself buried in a mineshaft.
Almost a year after graduating from the University of Arizona, where he attended for four and a half years, Diddy went to his first Wildcat basketball game at McKale Center. It was very interesting, but not for anything that happened on the court.
You see, Banana's* dad (Papa G-Unit*), has season tickets and she gets to attend most games because it is a long drive from the C-wood to McKale. When we realized that Diddy and I would be making an overnight stay in T Town the night of a game she had tickets to - it seemed only reasonable that all of us would go.
There was only one problem - Papa G only has two seats. But, left to her own devices, Banana is very smart and she figured that the seat next to her is never sold. So she purchased a ticket in the nosebleed section (literally against that back wall of the arena) and figured one of us would sit in the unsold seat. No problem - right? Wrong!
To start off, Papa G's tickets are not just any tickets - they are in the front row (quite conspicuous). So as the game was getting ready to start the Seat Nazi* came over and asked to see everyone's tickets. Well, Banana didn't have the ticket for the seat so he made her move. She figured she would move up to the student section to sit with HHT* and all would be right in the world. Wrong again!
Seat Nazi was out to get her! As she was sitting in the student section with HHT (and no wristband), he appeared behind her seats. She had to hide from him! He was crazy and was ruining her game-watching experience, so she decided to move to her nosebleed seat for the remainder of the first half.
Let me back up a minute here and tell you that after Banana moved to the student section, Dances With Wolves* moved into the seat that she was going to use. (Diddy and I may or may not have caused a little ruckus about this.)
So...halftime arrives and SuperFan* comes over to see why we have been playing musical chairs all night. We tell her the story and she may or may not have caused a second ruckus with the Event Staff. Turns out Dances With Wolves held the ticket for that seat (shady I tell you) so we were stuck.
Luckily, SuperFan is called that for a reason and she had an extra seat in the third row of the student section where Banana sat for the second half of the game. The Cats won in a blow-out and much to Diddy's dismay my UofA shoes were a big hit!!! (I'll post a pic of the shoes when I get back home.)
So, kids, the moral of today's story is: If you ever become a "Customer Relations" person for McKale Center don't mess with the G-Unit family or you just might find yourself buried in a mineshaft.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Free Range Chicken...
I have a brilliant idea!! It may be my best one yet... I am going to sell organic, free-range chicken eggs at local Farmer's Markets.
I know, I'm highly opposed to labeling food organic. Be serious, folks - all food is organic (by definition, organic means characteristic of, pertaining to, or derived from living organisms). However, if people want to be ridiculous and buy overpriced food just because it is labeled "organic" shouldn't I be able to capitalize on it as well?
This is where my brilliant idea comes in to play.
A couple of days ago I went down to my grandparents' house to visit and get some eggs. My grandfather has been raising chickens for a couple of years now so most of the family just goes down there to get eggs a dozen or so at a time. Well, apparently, the chickens are liking the cool weather and they are in hyper-laying mode. (I bet there were 18 dozen eggs in the "eggerator" when I went down there.) I literally left their house with 7 dozen eggs - I can't eat 7 dozen eggs - I'm only one man (well, woman).
The next day I just happened to be reading the newspaper and saw an ad for a local farmers market - BINGO! - this my chance! I can take my grandpa's eggs (which by any definition are organic because he doesn't give them hormones - I don't think he gives them anything because most of them are missing quite a few feathers) and sell them to the suckers at the local farmers market. I figured I could get $2/dozen easy. All of the sudden it occurred to me that they are also "free-range" chickens. They have a chicken coop, but there is plenty of room for them to move around and once a day my grandpa lets them out to roam around the yard. We just upped the price another dollar!
I'm going to be rich!
I know, I'm highly opposed to labeling food organic. Be serious, folks - all food is organic (by definition, organic means characteristic of, pertaining to, or derived from living organisms). However, if people want to be ridiculous and buy overpriced food just because it is labeled "organic" shouldn't I be able to capitalize on it as well?
This is where my brilliant idea comes in to play.
A couple of days ago I went down to my grandparents' house to visit and get some eggs. My grandfather has been raising chickens for a couple of years now so most of the family just goes down there to get eggs a dozen or so at a time. Well, apparently, the chickens are liking the cool weather and they are in hyper-laying mode. (I bet there were 18 dozen eggs in the "eggerator" when I went down there.) I literally left their house with 7 dozen eggs - I can't eat 7 dozen eggs - I'm only one man (well, woman).
The next day I just happened to be reading the newspaper and saw an ad for a local farmers market - BINGO! - this my chance! I can take my grandpa's eggs (which by any definition are organic because he doesn't give them hormones - I don't think he gives them anything because most of them are missing quite a few feathers) and sell them to the suckers at the local farmers market. I figured I could get $2/dozen easy. All of the sudden it occurred to me that they are also "free-range" chickens. They have a chicken coop, but there is plenty of room for them to move around and once a day my grandpa lets them out to roam around the yard. We just upped the price another dollar!
I'm going to be rich!
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Everybody Was Kung-Fu Fighting...
So I started my jiu jitsu classes tonight (I am announcing this on my blog in an effort to let a lot of people know so I won't quit). Let me start off by telling you a little something about Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ) - it is not easy! Not that I expected it to be easy, I just didn't expect it to kick my @ss!!! (I don't know if you're allowed to curse on blogs...)
Let me go through the whole thing with you (if my shoulder will hold out long enough to let me continue to type this - when did that injury happen?).
So a long time ago (like around my birthday) I talked about starting BJJ classes, but apparently I wasn't serious enough so I kept finding reasons not to start. For some reason - while I was in Reno last week, I was waiting for a phone call in my hotel room and I looked up classes again. I found a gym semi-close to my house and they had an internet special. So I signed up - 2 classes and a uniform for $19.95. I figured you couldn't beat it and if I hated it - I'm only out 20 bucks and I can be a martial artist for Halloween next year... (Seriously, my hand is going numb from my shoulder pain - is this a problem?)
Flash forward to tonight - class starts at 7:30 and I need to get there 15 minutes early to be fitted for my uniform. Done and done. (I didn't know what to wear to the gym, but it turns out I made a good choice.) There are large men standing around waiting for class to start, but I think nothing of it because there is another girl there so I figure I'll work with her. I can't begin to tell you how wrong I was. We started the class with a little running warm up and then right into working on some positions. (Let me remind you all that I've never done BJJ before - everything I am going to learn tonight will be brand new to me and the only things I know...) We work for about 10 minutes on X-Guards and I seem to catch on to those alright. Then the instructor says, "Ok, get a partner, let's wrestle." WHAT??? Let's wrestle? I don't know anything outside of X-Guards. I don't even know how this wrestling business starts. So he tells me to sit out the first 10 minutes and watch. That goes by and I get to wrestle with the other girl (we wrestle in sets of 10 minutes - just straight wrestling). After that time is up, he tells me to wrestle with another guy. This guy tries to teach me a couple of moves, which is helpful, but what is the likelihood that my opponent is going to fall into the traps that I need him to fall into in order for me to make these moves work? Turns out, the likelihood is slim to none. Needless to say that I wrestle a total of 4 people before class is over (if you're not a math wizard that is 40 minutes of wrestling) and the last guy turns out to be a yellow belt (which I assume is more advanced than my white one...).
I seriously got my @ss kicked tonight! I have a fat lip, my knees are all red, the tops of my toes have mat burns on them, clearly I've done something to my shoulder, and I may get cauliflower ear. But I am going back on Thursday and I think I'm in it for the long haul. I figure it's only got to get easier - and I'm hoping at some point, someone will show me some technique (since the instructor kept telling the other fighters to rely on their technique and not their strength...).
I do have a new found respect for CageFighter* now though - this sh*t is hard!
Let me go through the whole thing with you (if my shoulder will hold out long enough to let me continue to type this - when did that injury happen?).
So a long time ago (like around my birthday) I talked about starting BJJ classes, but apparently I wasn't serious enough so I kept finding reasons not to start. For some reason - while I was in Reno last week, I was waiting for a phone call in my hotel room and I looked up classes again. I found a gym semi-close to my house and they had an internet special. So I signed up - 2 classes and a uniform for $19.95. I figured you couldn't beat it and if I hated it - I'm only out 20 bucks and I can be a martial artist for Halloween next year... (Seriously, my hand is going numb from my shoulder pain - is this a problem?)
Flash forward to tonight - class starts at 7:30 and I need to get there 15 minutes early to be fitted for my uniform. Done and done. (I didn't know what to wear to the gym, but it turns out I made a good choice.) There are large men standing around waiting for class to start, but I think nothing of it because there is another girl there so I figure I'll work with her. I can't begin to tell you how wrong I was. We started the class with a little running warm up and then right into working on some positions. (Let me remind you all that I've never done BJJ before - everything I am going to learn tonight will be brand new to me and the only things I know...) We work for about 10 minutes on X-Guards and I seem to catch on to those alright. Then the instructor says, "Ok, get a partner, let's wrestle." WHAT??? Let's wrestle? I don't know anything outside of X-Guards. I don't even know how this wrestling business starts. So he tells me to sit out the first 10 minutes and watch. That goes by and I get to wrestle with the other girl (we wrestle in sets of 10 minutes - just straight wrestling). After that time is up, he tells me to wrestle with another guy. This guy tries to teach me a couple of moves, which is helpful, but what is the likelihood that my opponent is going to fall into the traps that I need him to fall into in order for me to make these moves work? Turns out, the likelihood is slim to none. Needless to say that I wrestle a total of 4 people before class is over (if you're not a math wizard that is 40 minutes of wrestling) and the last guy turns out to be a yellow belt (which I assume is more advanced than my white one...).
I seriously got my @ss kicked tonight! I have a fat lip, my knees are all red, the tops of my toes have mat burns on them, clearly I've done something to my shoulder, and I may get cauliflower ear. But I am going back on Thursday and I think I'm in it for the long haul. I figure it's only got to get easier - and I'm hoping at some point, someone will show me some technique (since the instructor kept telling the other fighters to rely on their technique and not their strength...).
I do have a new found respect for CageFighter* now though - this sh*t is hard!
Saturday, November 10, 2007
If I Ruled The World
As many of you know I have a firm belief that if everyone would just come to me for suggestions on how to live, the world would be a much happier place. I have often thought that I should be a life coach as a career (of course there are some people out there who say that I am a little too harsh for that to work...). I am confident that after reading the below post, you will agree that I should rule the world.
As I was waiting in the security line at the Reno Airport this morning, a number of suggestions for improved efficiency (and ways to make me a less angry traveler) came to me. I will list them below. If anyone has a direct link to God or Congress or perhaps the Administration of the Reno/Tahoe Airport - please feel free to pass these along.
1. Create a separate line for idiots, old people, people who have been living under a rock since 9/11/01, and anyone else whose stupidity causes the security lines that I am standing in to move at a snail's pace.
-On a side note: the guy sitting behind me at the gate right now has just dropped the F-bomb no less than 20 times in 3 minutes. I won't go into the reason for his tirade, but let's just say that he could probably benefit from some anger management classes. (Perhaps the fact that he is wearing multicolored striped socks and red clogs is one reason for his explosive anger - I don't know.)
(Back to my suggestions for the world...)
2. On Saturday mornings, (which seem to be very busy travel days here in Reno/Tahoe) have a reasonable number of mags open. I'm not saying we need to fully staff all security points on Tuesdays at 2 pm, but let's use a little common sense and figure that weekends are going to see a lot of travelers and one magnetometer is not sufficient.
3. Threaten security and gate employees with their lives if they so much as think about creating small talk with the people in line. I'm all for customer service, but your job is to move people through your respective area in the airport and telling us about your new collectors coin (why you would even think we care about that is beyond me) does not help you accomplish this job.
That should do it for this trip, but I would like to mention that I just watched a guy put a whole banana in his mouth and it freaked me out a little bit.
Alright, maybe I'll go put a dollar in the penny slots and see if I can win something...
UPDATE: I won $15 in the penny slots - I ROCK!!!
As I was waiting in the security line at the Reno Airport this morning, a number of suggestions for improved efficiency (and ways to make me a less angry traveler) came to me. I will list them below. If anyone has a direct link to God or Congress or perhaps the Administration of the Reno/Tahoe Airport - please feel free to pass these along.
1. Create a separate line for idiots, old people, people who have been living under a rock since 9/11/01, and anyone else whose stupidity causes the security lines that I am standing in to move at a snail's pace.
-On a side note: the guy sitting behind me at the gate right now has just dropped the F-bomb no less than 20 times in 3 minutes. I won't go into the reason for his tirade, but let's just say that he could probably benefit from some anger management classes. (Perhaps the fact that he is wearing multicolored striped socks and red clogs is one reason for his explosive anger - I don't know.)
(Back to my suggestions for the world...)
2. On Saturday mornings, (which seem to be very busy travel days here in Reno/Tahoe) have a reasonable number of mags open. I'm not saying we need to fully staff all security points on Tuesdays at 2 pm, but let's use a little common sense and figure that weekends are going to see a lot of travelers and one magnetometer is not sufficient.
3. Threaten security and gate employees with their lives if they so much as think about creating small talk with the people in line. I'm all for customer service, but your job is to move people through your respective area in the airport and telling us about your new collectors coin (why you would even think we care about that is beyond me) does not help you accomplish this job.
That should do it for this trip, but I would like to mention that I just watched a guy put a whole banana in his mouth and it freaked me out a little bit.
Alright, maybe I'll go put a dollar in the penny slots and see if I can win something...
UPDATE: I won $15 in the penny slots - I ROCK!!!
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
What Can Brown Do For You??
Catchy slogan that UPS has, isn't it? Well, the truth of the matter is, what they can do for me is deliver my freaking package on time!!!!
As I type this I am sitting in Reno, Nevada with none of my marketing materials for my booth. On Monday morning I went down to the Postnet store to ship my booth materials to the hotel so I didn't have to lug everything to the airport with me. They assured me that everything would arrive by Wednesday afternoon, which worked perfectly for me, so I paid the nice lady and went on my way. Little did I know that UPS's incompetence would hinder this plan. Rather than sending my packages to Nevada they somehow got sent to Vernon, California. I assure you that the zip code on the packing slip was correct - I checked it myself and it was exactly the same as the two packages that FedEx managed to get here in a timely fashion. So how they got Vernon, California from Sparks, Nevada I will never know. According to the tracking information on their website, my box is currently sitting in West Sacramento, CA (I didn't even know this place existed). I hope that everything will arrive at a reasonable hour tomorrow so that I can commence doing my job with more than just my charm (although I am very charming...).
In other happenings at the Nuggest Resort and Casino:
-I am amazed by the people who travel here for fun - or I guess I should say the people who throw their money away for fun. Seriously, is it that hard to understand that if a casino is giving you free night stays, they are taking your money somewhere else! They don't get to stay in business by being charitable.
-I was in line waiting for a table at lunch today and two of the above mentioned people were behind me in line. They were literally having a conversation about what they could afford to eat because they had lost so much money in the slot machines. Go ahead and pack it in at this point, folks, it ain't going to get any better.
-It is an interesting cast of characters here and the fasion issues are more than I can bear, but all in all, I'm having a good time and meeting some good people.
I do need to give a shout out to Diddy*. There should have been posts previous to this one that included our trips around Arizona, but I have been bad about blogging and I honestly can't remember most of what has happened. Don't worry though, Diddy, I'm sure there will be more stories to come. (And if you would get me that outlet that plugs into the lighter I could blog on the way home from events - I'm just sayin'...)
As I type this I am sitting in Reno, Nevada with none of my marketing materials for my booth. On Monday morning I went down to the Postnet store to ship my booth materials to the hotel so I didn't have to lug everything to the airport with me. They assured me that everything would arrive by Wednesday afternoon, which worked perfectly for me, so I paid the nice lady and went on my way. Little did I know that UPS's incompetence would hinder this plan. Rather than sending my packages to Nevada they somehow got sent to Vernon, California. I assure you that the zip code on the packing slip was correct - I checked it myself and it was exactly the same as the two packages that FedEx managed to get here in a timely fashion. So how they got Vernon, California from Sparks, Nevada I will never know. According to the tracking information on their website, my box is currently sitting in West Sacramento, CA (I didn't even know this place existed). I hope that everything will arrive at a reasonable hour tomorrow so that I can commence doing my job with more than just my charm (although I am very charming...).
In other happenings at the Nuggest Resort and Casino:
-I am amazed by the people who travel here for fun - or I guess I should say the people who throw their money away for fun. Seriously, is it that hard to understand that if a casino is giving you free night stays, they are taking your money somewhere else! They don't get to stay in business by being charitable.
-I was in line waiting for a table at lunch today and two of the above mentioned people were behind me in line. They were literally having a conversation about what they could afford to eat because they had lost so much money in the slot machines. Go ahead and pack it in at this point, folks, it ain't going to get any better.
-It is an interesting cast of characters here and the fasion issues are more than I can bear, but all in all, I'm having a good time and meeting some good people.
I do need to give a shout out to Diddy*. There should have been posts previous to this one that included our trips around Arizona, but I have been bad about blogging and I honestly can't remember most of what has happened. Don't worry though, Diddy, I'm sure there will be more stories to come. (And if you would get me that outlet that plugs into the lighter I could blog on the way home from events - I'm just sayin'...)
Sunday, October 7, 2007
A Little Random...
- Did you know that 50% of Americans surveyed think that it is ok to live with your parents in your late 20s?
Yes, it's true. Or at least it is true according to Montana*. After almost 3 years, I saw Montana for the first time in J-Hole. We had worked together when I was in college and was an intern and then we both lived in DC at the same time. He is one of the most random people I've ever met. (For example, the summer of my internship, Hoobs* and I took him to a club in downtown Denver and he literally started doing high-kicks on the dance floor. This apparently is normal for him.) Either way, in J-Hole after confirming that I no longer lived with my parents, he passed along the above statistic to let me know it would be ok if I did.
- On my drive from J-Hole to SLC to catch my flight home, I was driving through the Teton Pass just about to cross into Idaho when a moose stepped over the guardrail and moseyed across the road right in front of me. It was the first time that I had ever seen a moose in the flesh and it was GINORMOUS! So I called my parents to tell them of the adventure that I was on and PapaBear* got on the phone and said, "Was it a female or a male?" Seriously, Pops? How is this important in the story that I am currently telling you?
Turns out it was a male because it had horns, and female moose (meese?) don't have horns. What is the plural for moose anyway?
-Louisiana called me last night (apparently my rejection of his marriage proposal didn't phase him). He said that he had the day off today and he wanted to know if I wanted to go fishing. Does he know me at all? There is no part of me that enjoys fishing. There is nothing appealing to me about throwing a hook in the water and then sitting (quietly no less) and waiting for fish to take the bait. And for what? So that once the fish bites you have to take it off of the hook and clean it? No thanks. They sell perfectly good fish in the grocery store.
Yes, it's true. Or at least it is true according to Montana*. After almost 3 years, I saw Montana for the first time in J-Hole. We had worked together when I was in college and was an intern and then we both lived in DC at the same time. He is one of the most random people I've ever met. (For example, the summer of my internship, Hoobs* and I took him to a club in downtown Denver and he literally started doing high-kicks on the dance floor. This apparently is normal for him.) Either way, in J-Hole after confirming that I no longer lived with my parents, he passed along the above statistic to let me know it would be ok if I did.
- On my drive from J-Hole to SLC to catch my flight home, I was driving through the Teton Pass just about to cross into Idaho when a moose stepped over the guardrail and moseyed across the road right in front of me. It was the first time that I had ever seen a moose in the flesh and it was GINORMOUS! So I called my parents to tell them of the adventure that I was on and PapaBear* got on the phone and said, "Was it a female or a male?" Seriously, Pops? How is this important in the story that I am currently telling you?
Turns out it was a male because it had horns, and female moose (meese?) don't have horns. What is the plural for moose anyway?
-Louisiana called me last night (apparently my rejection of his marriage proposal didn't phase him). He said that he had the day off today and he wanted to know if I wanted to go fishing. Does he know me at all? There is no part of me that enjoys fishing. There is nothing appealing to me about throwing a hook in the water and then sitting (quietly no less) and waiting for fish to take the bait. And for what? So that once the fish bites you have to take it off of the hook and clean it? No thanks. They sell perfectly good fish in the grocery store.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
A Scenic Place to Rendezvous
Last weekend it was up to Jackson Hole, WY for my first event for the new job. In an effort to save some money, I flew in to Salt Lake City and rented a car to drive the 5 hours to J-Hole. I love road trips, so I was pretty excited about driving through a part of the country that I've never been before.
My flight was set to leave at 7:11 am, so I was up before the sun and at the airport with about an hour to kill. Due to sushi the night before, I hadn't watched Grey's yet so I figured this would be a good time to catch up on the internet. Wrong. The announcement guy at the airport felt the need to provide us with the most unnecessary announcements all morning. At one point, the following announcement actually interrupted my viewing experience: "The airport chapel is located on the second floor of Terminal 3." WHAT? There are a number of things wrong with this announcement:
1. It is Friday morning around 6:15 - why does anyone care where any chapel is?
2. Why is there a chapel in an airport?
3. If you are the kind of person who goes to the chapel in an airport, don't you ask where it is? Not just wait for a random announcement to come on and tell you where it is...
Furthermore, did that announcement spur anyone to get out of their seat and go to the 2nd floor of Terminal 3??
Without finishing Grey's due to the asinine announcements, I boarded the plane (which was a majority empty proving my point that no one actually wants to go to Salt Lake City). The plane ride was mostly uneventful, the same cannot be said for the rental car counter in Salt Lake.
I was carrying my Virginia is for Lovers bag (what? it's a great travel bag...) waiting for my turn at the counter. The couple in front of me finishes their transaction and the gentleman working for Alamo looks up at me and says, (I am not lying about this) "Come here, Lover." WHAT??? Don't worry, it gets better. So this guy looks like Chris Farley singing "Fat Man in a Little Coat" and he is grinning ear to ear at me. I give him my reservation sheet and my license. He asks for my phone number and says, "You might want to say it quietly, he (pointing to the other man behind the counter) may take it and start calling you." Seriously? Can we just finish this process and get me the keys to my car? Oh we can, and we can give me the keys to a Chevy Cobalt...
I get situated in my clown car and head on down the road to Wyoming. The scenery did not disappoint, the leaves were starting to change and the mountains were beautiful. (I did feel a little like I was in Big Love though because large suburbans with dark tinted windows were all over the highway.)
I stopped in Pocatello, ID for lunch and had a most delicious meal. (I am kind of a nerd and I look everything up on the internet prior to doing it, so I found the restaurant before I got there.) As I drove along the Snake River in ID, I decided that having a second home in this part of the country would be divine!!
On Scenic ID-31, I enter Victor, ID, where the sign actually says, "A Scenic Place to Rendezvous." Which I thought was most interesting considering there was nothing in this town. I don't even think there was a hotel. However, once I got to Main St. I did feel like I had driven into 1934 - it was a little crazy.
The Cobalt didn't love the 10% Mountain Grade through the Teton Pass, but we made it and headed into town to check in at the hotel. (Because of the timing of my hiring and this meeting, I wasn't able to get a room at the hotel where the meeting was being held and instead found my hotel on hotels.com.) It turns out - this was not a hotel - it was a condo complex. Seriously, I was staying in a one-bedroom full condo.
I have decided that this is place and time for IT Girl and I to take our next vacation. The scenery was beautiful, the weather (while a little cold) was nice, and the men were MEN! (But I think we'll skip the Alamo counter at SLC Airport.)
My flight was set to leave at 7:11 am, so I was up before the sun and at the airport with about an hour to kill. Due to sushi the night before, I hadn't watched Grey's yet so I figured this would be a good time to catch up on the internet. Wrong. The announcement guy at the airport felt the need to provide us with the most unnecessary announcements all morning. At one point, the following announcement actually interrupted my viewing experience: "The airport chapel is located on the second floor of Terminal 3." WHAT? There are a number of things wrong with this announcement:
1. It is Friday morning around 6:15 - why does anyone care where any chapel is?
2. Why is there a chapel in an airport?
3. If you are the kind of person who goes to the chapel in an airport, don't you ask where it is? Not just wait for a random announcement to come on and tell you where it is...
Furthermore, did that announcement spur anyone to get out of their seat and go to the 2nd floor of Terminal 3??
Without finishing Grey's due to the asinine announcements, I boarded the plane (which was a majority empty proving my point that no one actually wants to go to Salt Lake City). The plane ride was mostly uneventful, the same cannot be said for the rental car counter in Salt Lake.
I was carrying my Virginia is for Lovers bag (what? it's a great travel bag...) waiting for my turn at the counter. The couple in front of me finishes their transaction and the gentleman working for Alamo looks up at me and says, (I am not lying about this) "Come here, Lover." WHAT??? Don't worry, it gets better. So this guy looks like Chris Farley singing "Fat Man in a Little Coat" and he is grinning ear to ear at me. I give him my reservation sheet and my license. He asks for my phone number and says, "You might want to say it quietly, he (pointing to the other man behind the counter) may take it and start calling you." Seriously? Can we just finish this process and get me the keys to my car? Oh we can, and we can give me the keys to a Chevy Cobalt...
I get situated in my clown car and head on down the road to Wyoming. The scenery did not disappoint, the leaves were starting to change and the mountains were beautiful. (I did feel a little like I was in Big Love though because large suburbans with dark tinted windows were all over the highway.)
I stopped in Pocatello, ID for lunch and had a most delicious meal. (I am kind of a nerd and I look everything up on the internet prior to doing it, so I found the restaurant before I got there.) As I drove along the Snake River in ID, I decided that having a second home in this part of the country would be divine!!
On Scenic ID-31, I enter Victor, ID, where the sign actually says, "A Scenic Place to Rendezvous." Which I thought was most interesting considering there was nothing in this town. I don't even think there was a hotel. However, once I got to Main St. I did feel like I had driven into 1934 - it was a little crazy.
The Cobalt didn't love the 10% Mountain Grade through the Teton Pass, but we made it and headed into town to check in at the hotel. (Because of the timing of my hiring and this meeting, I wasn't able to get a room at the hotel where the meeting was being held and instead found my hotel on hotels.com.) It turns out - this was not a hotel - it was a condo complex. Seriously, I was staying in a one-bedroom full condo.
I have decided that this is place and time for IT Girl and I to take our next vacation. The scenery was beautiful, the weather (while a little cold) was nice, and the men were MEN! (But I think we'll skip the Alamo counter at SLC Airport.)
Friday, September 28, 2007
It's Raining Men...
I must start by apologizing to my dedicated fans (I think there are two of you...). Clearly, I have been a bad blogger and I'm sorry. I could give you excuses, but they wouldn't make a difference. The fact of the matter is I have let my blog fall to the bottom of my priority list and I am going to work to change that.
So, as is typical of my life, things are out of control. I often wonder if other people's lives are as ridiculous as mine. Do other people experience the madness or do I just realize the craziness more than the average joe? Either way, there have been a lot of average joes in my life as of late and I felt it worthy of a post.
To start with I have somewhat been proposed to twice in the last month:
1. Louisiana* (all wrong - no explanation needed)
2. Red Baron* (we're great on paper, we have lots in common (including we both like men))
On top of that, I had the most random conversation ever with another gent. Literally, he was telling me about this problem he has with a girl and said, "I feel about her like I feel about you." WHAT?? Who says that? What does that mean?
I had a strange meal thing. I got a shoulder rub and had an intimate(-ish) moment at dinner.
But at the same time, we can scratch one off of the list. Lanscaper came over to do some yard work and brought a woman with him. (This may actually be a positive since he could only profess his love for me when drunk.)
The problem that I have with all of the above men, is that I can't see a future with any of them. It kind of makes me want to give up...
In another love life, IT Girl had a first date with NKOTB. It seemed to go well, she will probably see him again this week.
I guess for the time being IT and I will have to keep Hangin' Tough.
So, as is typical of my life, things are out of control. I often wonder if other people's lives are as ridiculous as mine. Do other people experience the madness or do I just realize the craziness more than the average joe? Either way, there have been a lot of average joes in my life as of late and I felt it worthy of a post.
To start with I have somewhat been proposed to twice in the last month:
1. Louisiana* (all wrong - no explanation needed)
2. Red Baron* (we're great on paper, we have lots in common (including we both like men))
On top of that, I had the most random conversation ever with another gent. Literally, he was telling me about this problem he has with a girl and said, "I feel about her like I feel about you." WHAT?? Who says that? What does that mean?
I had a strange meal thing. I got a shoulder rub and had an intimate(-ish) moment at dinner.
But at the same time, we can scratch one off of the list. Lanscaper came over to do some yard work and brought a woman with him. (This may actually be a positive since he could only profess his love for me when drunk.)
The problem that I have with all of the above men, is that I can't see a future with any of them. It kind of makes me want to give up...
In another love life, IT Girl had a first date with NKOTB. It seemed to go well, she will probably see him again this week.
I guess for the time being IT and I will have to keep Hangin' Tough.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Mamma Mia - And All That Implies...
I need to start this post with an apology for my obvious lack of posts as of late. I started the new job and have been on the road all week without time to sit down and put something down on (virtual) paper. So, I'm sorry and I hope that you enjoy what follows...
As I mentioned above, I've been on the road this week for work. I am in Denver this week for training. Nothing too exciting happened in the airport and for most of the week things were pretty calm. I am being trained with another employee, Old Man. (Nice enough guy, as old as my parents.) We ate every meal together and by Wednesday morning, we had nothing to talk about (very awkward).
We did have an interesting dinner on Thursday night. We went to Olive Garden, which shouldn't have been too eventful. We were seated in a back room with the most ridiculous diners I've ever been around. At the table immediately next to us were Star Trek Girl (STG) and her friend Naivete. When we arrived these girls each had two bowls of pasta in front of them and there was a pitcher of sangria that was almost empty. They had ridiculous, loud, drunken conversations for the majority of our meal. However, the most ridiculous conversation that they had was about gay clubs.
STG: I can't believe you've never been to a gay club. We need to go to one.
Naivete: Yeah, that would be so much fun. When can we go?
STG: Ooh, I know, we'll go to (insert name of club here) on a Thursday. That is drag-queen, ABBA night.
Naivete: Oh yeah, that sounds like a lot of fun.
STG (to the ridiculous waiter): Can you believe she's never been to a gay club?
Waiter: Really? I haven't either.
STG: Yeah, but it's weird for her.
Why is it weird for her you ask? Perhaps because she is a lesbian? No. Apparently it's weird because she's a ballroom dancer.
This would have been enough to make a dinner complete, but because it is my life, there is more. The other table in our little room held a family with five children (the oldest was probably 14 and the youngest was close to 4). This was WT Dad meets East Valley Soccer Mom - it was the weirdest couple I've ever seen. WT Dad was wearing a San Diego Chargers Jersey and swim trunks that did not even come close to matching. They were clearly on their second marriage and four of the children were hers, but the youngest boy was his. This child was the most misbehaved child I have ever seen. He screamed for part of the dinner and his dad yelled at him for the other half. He wouldn't sit still, he was crawling on the floor, and more than once his father took him out to the car. I don't know what happened in the car, but clearly it didn't work. I wanted to beat the child on my own. It was probably one of the worst dining experiences that I've ever had.
As I mentioned above, I've been on the road this week for work. I am in Denver this week for training. Nothing too exciting happened in the airport and for most of the week things were pretty calm. I am being trained with another employee, Old Man. (Nice enough guy, as old as my parents.) We ate every meal together and by Wednesday morning, we had nothing to talk about (very awkward).
We did have an interesting dinner on Thursday night. We went to Olive Garden, which shouldn't have been too eventful. We were seated in a back room with the most ridiculous diners I've ever been around. At the table immediately next to us were Star Trek Girl (STG) and her friend Naivete. When we arrived these girls each had two bowls of pasta in front of them and there was a pitcher of sangria that was almost empty. They had ridiculous, loud, drunken conversations for the majority of our meal. However, the most ridiculous conversation that they had was about gay clubs.
STG: I can't believe you've never been to a gay club. We need to go to one.
Naivete: Yeah, that would be so much fun. When can we go?
STG: Ooh, I know, we'll go to (insert name of club here) on a Thursday. That is drag-queen, ABBA night.
Naivete: Oh yeah, that sounds like a lot of fun.
STG (to the ridiculous waiter): Can you believe she's never been to a gay club?
Waiter: Really? I haven't either.
STG: Yeah, but it's weird for her.
Why is it weird for her you ask? Perhaps because she is a lesbian? No. Apparently it's weird because she's a ballroom dancer.
This would have been enough to make a dinner complete, but because it is my life, there is more. The other table in our little room held a family with five children (the oldest was probably 14 and the youngest was close to 4). This was WT Dad meets East Valley Soccer Mom - it was the weirdest couple I've ever seen. WT Dad was wearing a San Diego Chargers Jersey and swim trunks that did not even come close to matching. They were clearly on their second marriage and four of the children were hers, but the youngest boy was his. This child was the most misbehaved child I have ever seen. He screamed for part of the dinner and his dad yelled at him for the other half. He wouldn't sit still, he was crawling on the floor, and more than once his father took him out to the car. I don't know what happened in the car, but clearly it didn't work. I wanted to beat the child on my own. It was probably one of the worst dining experiences that I've ever had.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
I Am Pleased to Announce the Marriage of Me to...Myself...
The last three years of my life have been pretty full of weddings. I have been the Maid of Honor in three and a bridesmaid in another (don't worry, I'm already committed to another in 2008). In addition to that, I have been invited to a number of others. Seriously, it has been a little out of control. Friends actually joke about it (I got an email from Seaman* today that said, "any weddings for you this week or are you taking some time off?"). I may actually be the poster child for "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride."
So I finally got done with weddings for 2007 (or at least I'm crossing my fingers that I'm done), and I have entered Baby Season.
I obviously knew that a lot of my friends were pregnant, but I guess I didn't realize that they were all going to have the babies at the same time. I was on the phone with Big T* today discussing my insurance coverage (in addition to being my pseudo big brother, he is my insurance agent), and I said something about Mrs. T* being due to have their first child soon. He alerted me that it would actually be this Saturday. Yes, he is taking Mrs. T into the hospital late tomorrow night to get prepped and they are going to induce her labor. They will most likely have Baby Boy T* sometime on Saturday. Literally, while I was on the phone with T, I got a text message from another friend that she will be induced on Sept. 11, her 27th birthday. WHAT??? How could two of my friends be discussing labor induction at the same time??? I know what you are thinking, "two babies, that's not so crazy." Well, don't think that is the end of this baby discussion - oh no. I am scheduled to attend a baby shower on Saturday for The Great White Hope* (one of my MOH stints), and sometime in the next 3 weeks, my friend Cattle Judge* will be delivering her baby girl. Do you know how many presents that adds up to???
Which led me to the conclusion that someone should be celebrating me! Seriously, why don't I get gifts for being an independent woman? For not rushing into a union that statistics show is doomed to failure? For not overpopulating the world? Someone needs to throw me a party for paying my taxes (with no breaks, because apparently the government hates single women) and buying numerous gifts for friends' babies and weddings. So like Carrie Bradshaw in SATC I think that I will announce my marriage to myself and register for a bunch of gifts that I want!
For those of you out there who have been on the receiving end of my generosity, please Save The Date - we will soon gather at a joyous occasion to celebrate a love based on giving and receiving. My invitation will be out soon and just thank your lucky stars that I don't wear Manolo Blahnik shoes...
So I finally got done with weddings for 2007 (or at least I'm crossing my fingers that I'm done), and I have entered Baby Season.
I obviously knew that a lot of my friends were pregnant, but I guess I didn't realize that they were all going to have the babies at the same time. I was on the phone with Big T* today discussing my insurance coverage (in addition to being my pseudo big brother, he is my insurance agent), and I said something about Mrs. T* being due to have their first child soon. He alerted me that it would actually be this Saturday. Yes, he is taking Mrs. T into the hospital late tomorrow night to get prepped and they are going to induce her labor. They will most likely have Baby Boy T* sometime on Saturday. Literally, while I was on the phone with T, I got a text message from another friend that she will be induced on Sept. 11, her 27th birthday. WHAT??? How could two of my friends be discussing labor induction at the same time??? I know what you are thinking, "two babies, that's not so crazy." Well, don't think that is the end of this baby discussion - oh no. I am scheduled to attend a baby shower on Saturday for The Great White Hope* (one of my MOH stints), and sometime in the next 3 weeks, my friend Cattle Judge* will be delivering her baby girl. Do you know how many presents that adds up to???
Which led me to the conclusion that someone should be celebrating me! Seriously, why don't I get gifts for being an independent woman? For not rushing into a union that statistics show is doomed to failure? For not overpopulating the world? Someone needs to throw me a party for paying my taxes (with no breaks, because apparently the government hates single women) and buying numerous gifts for friends' babies and weddings. So like Carrie Bradshaw in SATC I think that I will announce my marriage to myself and register for a bunch of gifts that I want!
For those of you out there who have been on the receiving end of my generosity, please Save The Date - we will soon gather at a joyous occasion to celebrate a love based on giving and receiving. My invitation will be out soon and just thank your lucky stars that I don't wear Manolo Blahnik shoes...
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Adventures in Dining...
Yesterday morning I went to Wildflower Bread Company to take advantage of their free wireless and enjoy a nice cup of coffee. So I'm sitting there, quietly minding my own business when "The Hulk*" approaches me. The following conversation ensues:
The Hulk: Excuse me, do you know how I can send an email?
Me: (Is he kidding me?) Well, you'll need to open an Internet explorer and sign in and that will get you on the Internet.
The Hulk: (Actually now almost sitting in my booth) Yeah, I got on the Internet, but I don't know how to send an email.
Me: I'm not sure I know how to help you.
He stood there for another 30 seconds looking at my computer screen, which I'm sure wasn't that interesting. Then he took his Coke and his too tight tank-top and headed back to his own seat. Seriously, do I look like the IT Department? What about me says, "computer nerd"? (To be fair, IT Girl doesn't look like a computer nerd either. Of course, I wouldn't approach her in a coffee shop to learn how to send an email.)
The bonus of this particular trip to Wildflower was that it was overflowing with very good looking fighter pilots. I was in heaven!
So today, I head into town for a lunch meeting. I arrive at the restaurant at the agreed upon time and get a table. It takes a while for the waiter to come to my table, but he finally comes and takes my drink order. After fifteen minutes of the other people not showing up, the waiter comes over and says, "Ok, if they don't show up, I'll sit down and have lunch with you." Turns out there was some miscommunication and the other people aren't going to make it to the meeting. So I decide to order. After I place my order, he comes back over and asks me what my meeting was for. So I explain it to him, no big deal. He starts to tell me about his private high school experience in Cleveland. (It was a really strange connection to my actual explanation, but whatever.) Once I finish eating my lunch he comes back over and we have the following conversation:
Waiter: I'm a drug rep on the side and it's always fun to joke with the doctors like that.
Me: Yeah?
Waiter: Yeah, doctors hate drug reps because most of them don't know what they are talking about, but I have a degree in Molecular and Cellular Biology, so I understand what they are talking about.
Me: Wow.
Waiter: I'm actually working on my fourth degree right now. I'm at Thunderbird School of International Management.
Me: Very cool.
Really?? Do I look like I want to know your life story? What about my side of this conversation makes you think I was interested in what you were saying?
Perhaps I should stop dining alone...
The Hulk: Excuse me, do you know how I can send an email?
Me: (Is he kidding me?) Well, you'll need to open an Internet explorer and sign in and that will get you on the Internet.
The Hulk: (Actually now almost sitting in my booth) Yeah, I got on the Internet, but I don't know how to send an email.
Me: I'm not sure I know how to help you.
He stood there for another 30 seconds looking at my computer screen, which I'm sure wasn't that interesting. Then he took his Coke and his too tight tank-top and headed back to his own seat. Seriously, do I look like the IT Department? What about me says, "computer nerd"? (To be fair, IT Girl doesn't look like a computer nerd either. Of course, I wouldn't approach her in a coffee shop to learn how to send an email.)
The bonus of this particular trip to Wildflower was that it was overflowing with very good looking fighter pilots. I was in heaven!
So today, I head into town for a lunch meeting. I arrive at the restaurant at the agreed upon time and get a table. It takes a while for the waiter to come to my table, but he finally comes and takes my drink order. After fifteen minutes of the other people not showing up, the waiter comes over and says, "Ok, if they don't show up, I'll sit down and have lunch with you." Turns out there was some miscommunication and the other people aren't going to make it to the meeting. So I decide to order. After I place my order, he comes back over and asks me what my meeting was for. So I explain it to him, no big deal. He starts to tell me about his private high school experience in Cleveland. (It was a really strange connection to my actual explanation, but whatever.) Once I finish eating my lunch he comes back over and we have the following conversation:
Waiter: I'm a drug rep on the side and it's always fun to joke with the doctors like that.
Me: Yeah?
Waiter: Yeah, doctors hate drug reps because most of them don't know what they are talking about, but I have a degree in Molecular and Cellular Biology, so I understand what they are talking about.
Me: Wow.
Waiter: I'm actually working on my fourth degree right now. I'm at Thunderbird School of International Management.
Me: Very cool.
Really?? Do I look like I want to know your life story? What about my side of this conversation makes you think I was interested in what you were saying?
Perhaps I should stop dining alone...
Sunday, September 2, 2007
A Farmer's Market and A Crayon Map...
Days 2 and 3 of my Boston extravaganza went by in a whirlwind of adventure!
We had already decided that Saturday would be our "Day at the Cape." With an immense desire to summer there (and a fantasy of finding Cape Cod League ball players), we knew this was going to be a VERY important part of our vacation!
The original plan was to get up early to beat traffic out to the Cape, but our shenanigans on Friday night did not lend themselves to an alarm wake-up. So we slept to our little hearts desires (or until the sound of the jackhammering downstairs woke us up.) As IT Girl made us some delicious breakfast sandwiches we discussed the best ways to make delicious coffee and looked up the directions to our destination. We packed my "Virginia is for Lovers" bag (don't ask) with snacks and all of the reading material and music that we could possibly need if traffic
became a problem. We were on our way.
According to Captain Chowdah*, a friend of IT Girl's, the best clam chowder on the Cape was to be found at Captain Parker's Pub (http://www.captainparkers.com/) in West Yarmouth. So this was to be our first destination.
(We made our way to the pub despite the obvious lack of signage in the state of Massachusetts.) The chowder was excellent and on a whim, I grabbed a crayon map on the way out.
**For those of you who are not familiar with the crayon map concept, these are cartoon-like maps that are common in tourist areas and focus on local businesses.
The crayon map proved to be a most helpful resource as it guided us to Hyannis and the JFK Memorial. (Clearly IT and I were not boy scouts, as it was at this location that the camera ran out of battery and we were not able to capture the beauty that we saw - or the house that we will summer in.) After a short jaunt around the beach and a quick look at some beautiful Cape houses, we made our way to Main Street for some award-winning homemade ice cream. (Katie's Homemade Ice Cream on 570 Main St, Hyannis MA - if you are looking for it, it is across the street from the amusement park). We enjoyed our ice cream while browsing the shops, but didn't find anything to bring home with us. We got in the map and decided to drive through Hyannis Port on the way home, which posed a small problem as the map ended before our location materialized. Slightly lost on Craigville Beach, we saw a woman wearing nothing but the largest bra on the planet and cotton shorts - it was rather traumatizing! This was our cue to head home, but without a map of where we were, we headed in the direction we thought was north (Piper* the Prius did not come with a compass). As luck would have it, we were right and we made it back to the MidCape Highway and towards Boston.
The day wore us out more than we were expecting and we knew that we had to be up early the next day so we headed home for a relaxing night in. Popcorn, movies, and wine would round out our day. Even though our first choice was missing from Blockbuster, we managed to entertain ourselves with two of the most random movies we could find.
Our Sunday started very early so we could make it to our Duck Tour on time. A delicious breakfast and a quick stop at Starbucks and we were on our way to the Prudential Center. Our Duck Tour was awesome and I was even the Captain for a while. We headed down to Newbury Street for some brunch and shopping then continued to walk around Boston for a while before heading home.
After a short nap and another couple of movies we set out to make a dinner from our Farmer's Market goods.
There are not words to describe the deliciousness of this meal. Seriously, we are wonderful cooks and I still contend that we should have a travel/cooking show that can showcase our abilities - we will call it "A Farmer's Market and A Crayon Map." (Anyone have a connection at the Food or Travel Network?)
We had already decided that Saturday would be our "Day at the Cape." With an immense desire to summer there (and a fantasy of finding Cape Cod League ball players), we knew this was going to be a VERY important part of our vacation!
The original plan was to get up early to beat traffic out to the Cape, but our shenanigans on Friday night did not lend themselves to an alarm wake-up. So we slept to our little hearts desires (or until the sound of the jackhammering downstairs woke us up.) As IT Girl made us some delicious breakfast sandwiches we discussed the best ways to make delicious coffee and looked up the directions to our destination. We packed my "Virginia is for Lovers" bag (don't ask) with snacks and all of the reading material and music that we could possibly need if traffic
became a problem. We were on our way.
According to Captain Chowdah*, a friend of IT Girl's, the best clam chowder on the Cape was to be found at Captain Parker's Pub (http://www.captainparkers.com/) in West Yarmouth. So this was to be our first destination.
(We made our way to the pub despite the obvious lack of signage in the state of Massachusetts.) The chowder was excellent and on a whim, I grabbed a crayon map on the way out.
**For those of you who are not familiar with the crayon map concept, these are cartoon-like maps that are common in tourist areas and focus on local businesses.
The crayon map proved to be a most helpful resource as it guided us to Hyannis and the JFK Memorial. (Clearly IT and I were not boy scouts, as it was at this location that the camera ran out of battery and we were not able to capture the beauty that we saw - or the house that we will summer in.) After a short jaunt around the beach and a quick look at some beautiful Cape houses, we made our way to Main Street for some award-winning homemade ice cream. (Katie's Homemade Ice Cream on 570 Main St, Hyannis MA - if you are looking for it, it is across the street from the amusement park). We enjoyed our ice cream while browsing the shops, but didn't find anything to bring home with us. We got in the map and decided to drive through Hyannis Port on the way home, which posed a small problem as the map ended before our location materialized. Slightly lost on Craigville Beach, we saw a woman wearing nothing but the largest bra on the planet and cotton shorts - it was rather traumatizing! This was our cue to head home, but without a map of where we were, we headed in the direction we thought was north (Piper* the Prius did not come with a compass). As luck would have it, we were right and we made it back to the MidCape Highway and towards Boston.
The day wore us out more than we were expecting and we knew that we had to be up early the next day so we headed home for a relaxing night in. Popcorn, movies, and wine would round out our day. Even though our first choice was missing from Blockbuster, we managed to entertain ourselves with two of the most random movies we could find.
Our Sunday started very early so we could make it to our Duck Tour on time. A delicious breakfast and a quick stop at Starbucks and we were on our way to the Prudential Center. Our Duck Tour was awesome and I was even the Captain for a while. We headed down to Newbury Street for some brunch and shopping then continued to walk around Boston for a while before heading home.
After a short nap and another couple of movies we set out to make a dinner from our Farmer's Market goods.
There are not words to describe the deliciousness of this meal. Seriously, we are wonderful cooks and I still contend that we should have a travel/cooking show that can showcase our abilities - we will call it "A Farmer's Market and A Crayon Map." (Anyone have a connection at the Food or Travel Network?)
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Kickballers Do It For 45 Minutes...
Day 1 in Boston turned into a wholly entertaining extravaganza!
To begin the day we walked across the street to the ATM to grab some cash. In the ATM vestibule we encountered a group of teenage boys who seemed to be in line to get cash. This turned out not to be the case, they were actually just staring at the girl who was, at that moment, conducting bank business. A little frightening if you are the girl, but IT Girl* and I continued on our eventful journey.
Our first stop was to be the Sam Adams Brewery. (I could go into all of the history here, but that would ruin your trip there...) Suffice it to say that the highlight was meeting "Chester Copperpot."
To begin the day we walked across the street to the ATM to grab some cash. In the ATM vestibule we encountered a group of teenage boys who seemed to be in line to get cash. This turned out not to be the case, they were actually just staring at the girl who was, at that moment, conducting bank business. A little frightening if you are the girl, but IT Girl* and I continued on our eventful journey.
Our first stop was to be the Sam Adams Brewery. (I could go into all of the history here, but that would ruin your trip there...) Suffice it to say that the highlight was meeting "Chester Copperpot."
The tour was neat and the most interesting fact that we learned was that the Boston brewery is only an R&D location and most of the beer that you buy in the store is actually brewed in Cincinnati. However, as you can imagine, the best part of the tour was the "tasting room." Apparently, the state of Massachusetts believes that we can only handle 3 7-oz. glasses of free beer. This probably was a blessing in disguise as IT Girl and I hadn't yet eaten and we were significantly buzzed following glass #2. This is also where the fun began...
Those of you who know me, know that I will talk to anyone. IT Girl is exactly the same, maybe even more outgoing. So there we are, getting wasted at 3 pm and making friends. While learning about "grains of paradise," we also made friends with some dudes from Baltimore and a cute couple from Arkansas. We were the hit of the tasting room and everyone wanted to know us. Sadly, the tasting ended and we were on our way again.
At the train station, we are innocently standing on the platform when four Pittsburghers approach us. They remembered us from the brewery tour and wanted to be our friends. Apparently, they were in town to play softball and were spending their free time getting drunk and chewing tobacco. We will fondly remember these gentlemen as:
- County Jailer*: This was the loudest of the four and he left the tasting room repeatedly to answer his cell phone (no one is that important...). Turns out he doesn't even like Sam Adams. While standing on the platform, he goes into some diatribe about how his ex-MIL got some threatening letter from a guy in the county jail and he had to call so-and-so to take care of it. WHAT??
- Goose 2*: The friendliest of the four. Goose 2 was a large fellow - picture Santa, 20 years younger, owning a bar... Got it?
- Ginger Hair*: He was the quietest of the group, but also the most attractive. He spent his time on the train platform text messaging.
- Small Old Jewish Waterboy*: One of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn't belong... Seriously, where did this guy come from? He was wearing a lavender polo shirt that I'm pretty sure was made in 1986.
We all get on the train together, but IT Girl and I find seats and commence enjoying our T ride. The Pittsburgh Four got off of the train before we did, we thought nothing of it. We take the train to Haymarket so that we can go to the North End (Little Italy) for some lunch/dinner - linner if you will. On our way from the T station to the restaurants, we encounter a Farmer's Market, which had some of the best and some of the worst looking produce I've ever seen. We will be creating a delicious dinner with the goods that we procured on Sunday.
We made our way up to the restaurant that we were hoping to eat at, only to find that it didn't open for another 30 minutes. Too hungry/drunk to wait, we proceeded down the street to an Italian cafeteria. We ordered two subs and I contend that it was one of the best meals I've ever had! Turns out we really only needed one sub, but we wrapped the remaining halves up to have for leftovers. The next plan was to head to Modern Pastry for cannolis and a cupcake.
After dessert, which was only the cannolis (we'll save the cupcake for later), we headed to Faneuil Hall to see some sights. The first sights we saw were hot cops. Seriously, the hottest cops I've ever seen are stationed in this area of Boston. There wasn't an ugly one in sight (this will not be the case near Fenway...) IT Girl is just explaining to me that the Cheers that we are about to pass is not the original, but the one created to look like the TV set, when we look over and see the Pittsburgh Pirates, our friends from the train station. Random, right? They try to take our leftovers, we bid them farewell.
We headed back to the T station to buy some Boston T-shirts for the game and head home. Back on the T, we are enjoying our ride when the staff of the World Adult Kickball Association (http://www.kickball.com/ - if you are interested in joining) boards our car. Yes, you read that right, the World Adult Kickball Association - WAKA for short. Apparently, Labor Day weekend is the annual Founders Cup World Kickball Championship - who knew? In this year's tournament you will find such teams as "John Stamos is Our Dad" and "Balls of Glory." Mike Meyers circa Wayne's World was one of these staff members and he apparently was fascinated with us, because he could not stop staring.
Off the train we go at the Kenmore station. We are accosted by scalpers and fans who are anxious to buy tickets to the Sox game. We procede on to the apartment to change our clothes and have a few beers before heading to Fenway.
Once we get to the Park we purchase a couple of beers ($7 - OUTRAGEOUS!) and head up to our seats. We get to what is supposedly our row and there are people in our seats. The guys in front of our seats tell us to just sit down - everyone seems to be in the wrong seat. So we sit in front of these dudes and start chatting. They are clearly not from Boston, so we ask them where they are from - Milwaukee. Why are they here? To play softball. The coincendence does not escape us. A large group comes to take their seats and we are forced to move. At this point we realize we are actually in the wrong section and the people we thought were in our seats actually weren't. After realizing that it would be much too difficult to get to our actual seats, we decide to just move over one section and sit in seats that are currently empty. This apparently is the norm at Fenway as we see numerous people do it. Two men trying to prove their masculinity to the women with them actually almost fought about this. Two moves later we find our real seats and find a friendly father/son duo as our neighbors. Here the fun begins...
Musician son* and Lawyer dad* are from Littleton, CO - the current location of IT Girl's home and my employer. We chat it up about CO for a while and then begin to talk about Boston. Musician, who looks like he belongs on the set of Entourage, has been accepted to the Berklee School of Music and will be starting on Tuesday. Lawyer, type A sports fanatic, is clearly not ready to let his baby boy go. Musician proceeds to talk to IT Girl and I about all things under the sun, including, but not limited to: Drop Dead Gorgeous, the flavor-lasting capacity of Stride gum, pogs, and the Geico cavemen. There are a number of men in the next section over who try numerous times to unsuccessfully start the wave. The wave finally gets started and begins to go around the Park at least 4 times - we believe it's a record. We can not find anything to dispute this fact. When the 7th inning stretch rolls around and they do not play "Sweet Caroline," our musician friend gets very sad. He literally says to us, "If I were a cloud, I would be raining depression." Don't worry though, the song came on in the middle of the 8th and all was right in the world again.
Some other highlights from the game include: Miss Boston*, a 50-ish woman who apparently knew everyone in the stands; and her friend, Stevie Nicks*, who spent the better part of the game standing up and swaying back and forth. The family next to us with two small children who ran up and down the stairs - at one point, the mother of these children yelled at the daughter, "Give me the fingah. Give me the fingah right now." (She was in fact referring to the giant foam finger that she had purchased for her child and not asking for an inappropriate hand gesture.) A streaker who ran across the field around the 8th inning and was literally tackled and held down by the security guards. Some very good-looking dads and a number of ginger hairs for IT Girl to fawn over. In the 9th inning the Sox had a near comeback that got everyone on their feet and had 10 year-olds doing pelvic thrusts. After a disappointing loss, we left the field and decided that Boston has the hottest fans in major league baseball.
Of course we couldn't just go home after the game, so we went into the first bar we came across and proceeded to people watch. We were attacked walking in the door by 40 year old men trying to sell beer for the beer girl. We then went downstairs where we were attacked by a drunk 16 year old who was enamored by IT Girl. While we were watching the Diamonbacks lose it altogether, we noticed 3 dudes at the bar who looked like the only way they could be having less fun would be for us to put hot sticks in their eyes. But it wasn't long before they found something to entertain them...3 cougars! These women were out of control, dancing all over the place with their gold purses and business shirts. At one point the tall one actually sat on the bar and kicked her leg up into the air. INAPPROPRIATE! After watching a series of white men try to dance and fight, we decided it was time to head home. On the way out there was a total WASP-y guy singing Nappy Roots and another guy who was literally asleep on a bar stool while his girlfriend tried to talk to him.
The walk home was uneventful considering the rest of the day, but we did encounter a bum who yelled, "I'm not killing anyone." To which I will reply, "Shut up, and give me the fingah!"
Friday, August 31, 2007
Speaking of Airplanes...
So, there I am on the red eye to Boston for the long weekend. Who would have thought that it would be a packed flight? Certainly not me, I take red eyes to avoid crowds. But as luck would have it, this was a full flight leaving Phoenix at 9:45 pm. Once I get on the plane, I settle into my window seat with my blanket and my book and hope to fall asleep soon (once the Tylenol PM kicks in). Yet again, the universe had different plans for me. Sitting next to me was Beatnik*, a man from San Francisco, headed to Nova Scotia. Next to Beatnik, was DB*, who apparently came from Orange County and was headed to Boston to visit his family. The following conversation actually took place:
Beatnik: Man, I'm going to need some beers to get to sleep on this plane.
DB: Yeah, man, I'd be drinking, but I'm literally penniless until my direct deposit goes through at midnight.
Beatnik: I'll buy you a beer, man.
DB: Really? That'd be great.
Beatnik: I'll buy you two.
WHAT??? Unfortunately, they were not kidding, and they proceeded to talk about the most random, convoluted things that a person could think of. Willie Mayes? Check. Possoms? Check. (Did you know they are marsupials?) Xanax and the merits of using it while travelling? Check. Cell phone chargers? Check. Irish Potato Famine? Check. Check.
I can not make this shit up. These men literally talked from Phoenix to Boston and invaded the dreams of my fitful sleep.
Please take the following lesson from my experience: If you want to get to know the person sitting next to you on a cross country red eye flight, please do it in an inside voice and be respectful of those around you trying to sleep. If you can't do these two things, please try to at least have an intellectual, relevant conversation...
Beatnik: Man, I'm going to need some beers to get to sleep on this plane.
DB: Yeah, man, I'd be drinking, but I'm literally penniless until my direct deposit goes through at midnight.
Beatnik: I'll buy you a beer, man.
DB: Really? That'd be great.
Beatnik: I'll buy you two.
WHAT??? Unfortunately, they were not kidding, and they proceeded to talk about the most random, convoluted things that a person could think of. Willie Mayes? Check. Possoms? Check. (Did you know they are marsupials?) Xanax and the merits of using it while travelling? Check. Cell phone chargers? Check. Irish Potato Famine? Check. Check.
I can not make this shit up. These men literally talked from Phoenix to Boston and invaded the dreams of my fitful sleep.
Please take the following lesson from my experience: If you want to get to know the person sitting next to you on a cross country red eye flight, please do it in an inside voice and be respectful of those around you trying to sleep. If you can't do these two things, please try to at least have an intellectual, relevant conversation...
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