An Arizona Adventure...Complete with Geronimo!

About a week ago, Dirty Shirley came to Arizona to visit me for my birthday. And since B-Town isn't all that fun, we decided that a tour around the northern part of the state was in order. We just didn't realize what an adventure it would be...

We started out bright and early on Friday morning, headed to the Grand Canyon. As luck would have it Dirty prepared herself for 103 degree weather, only to be met with something closer to half of that. It rained on us all the way to the GC. And not like a steady sprinkle - a torrential downpour! My windshield wipers could not keep up. (You may remember this same thing happening with EID last August.) And the best part of the whole deal is that we were both in shorts and t-shirts with no rain gear or jackets.

Fortunately, (or unfortunately depending on how you look at it) the rain stopped once we got into the Park. As we made our way to the lookout point, we breathed a sigh of relief that we would be able to get out of the car without ending up as drowned rats. But we had to laugh as we walked up to the Canyon only to find it full of fog. You literally couldn't see to the other side. Or where the bottom was. Just in case you don't believe me:



So after about 10 minutes of that, we got back in the car and headed for Flagstaff. The plan was to have lunch, maybe shop a little, and then head to beautiful Holbrook, AZ for the night.

Plans changed. We got to Flag and it was still raining. But we bucked up and walked through it to get lunch at Diablo Burger, which was delicious. However, on our way to the restaurant we encountered some people splashing in the puddles with bare feet. And these people were not children - they were probably closer to mid-twenties and belong on the face punch blog!

After lunch we decide to forgo shopping and head to Holbrook and decide that if it is still raining when we get to Winslow, we'll stop at Wally World and get ponchos. As you can probably guess - it was still raining when we got to Winslow. (But I'll tell you right now that we never used the ponchos that we bought...)

When we got to Holbrook, Diddy and PapaBear weren't back from the ranch so we drove around town for a tour. And five minutes later we were back at the hotel (maybe we should go with motel) to wait. After everyone arrived, we headed across the street to the Empty Pockets saloon. The people there were so very entertaining! But alas, the boys were tired so we headed to bed to prepare for our morning at the ranch.

The trip out to the ranch was more eventful than the actual working. As it had rained most of the day before and all night, the roads were muddy. So we encountered some of our Native American neighbors stuck on the side of the road. The boys got out to help and Dirty and I stayed in the truck and laughed. The best part of the story is that they got stuck the night before and slept in the truck. Idiots.

After a morning of working cows, Dirty and I headed back the way we came. After watching 2000 sheep cross the Verde River and a quick stop to visit a friend, we headed to Prescott for the night.

We got to our hotel, and the man behind the desk had abnormally small hands. Literally, he could be a circus freak. Will it never end? Showered, changed and called a cab to Whiskey Row. This is where the fun began. As we stood against the wall playing our own version of "What Not To Wear," a small man came and stood next to us. You may remember this guy from Napoleon Dynamite, it was Pedro. If I'm lying, I'm dying. There is no way that the writers of that movie did not use this man as their creative inspiration for that character.

After a few drinks, Sweet Home Alabama came on and Dirty and I decided to head to the floor for a little dancing. All was going well until Geronimo decided that he wanted to dance with us. Trying not to be heinous bitches, we didn't turn and run. We played along for the remainder of the song while he spun us at the same time and then square-danced with us. Thinking back on it now, I can't remember if he ever said anything. Hmmm. So song ends and another good one comes on so Dirty and I start dancing again. Trying not to dance with him, but not being very successful. Then he grabs my hand and makes me dance with none other than Pedro. And besides the fact that Pedro couldn't dance AT ALL, he was kind of creepy. When the song ended and I said thanks, he just kept smiling and nodding his head. Next song, Dirty and I start swing dancing together - international sign for "We don't want to dance again with the freaks that we danced with last time." Apparently Geronimo and I don't speak the same international language and he pulled us apart and made me dance with Pedro again. I almost cried.

As the song was ending, Dirty told the G-man that we had to leave because our mom was there to pick us up. He asked if we'd be back tomorrow night and she said no. Then he proceeded to tell her that he would be at the square the next day blowing up balloons. Which was actually a nice warning for us to keep our eyes open. So we leave the dance floor and go get a couple of glasses of water at the bar, where we see Pedro buying a rose. Figuring that it was for me, we hide and then leave the bar in a hurry. Luckily, our buddy the cab driver was sitting at the curb and we jumped in were out of there. I won't go into the details, but suffice it to say, our 10 minute cab ride was very interesting.

So morning rolls around and we head downtown for breakfast. As we sit by the window in our restaurant enjoying our coffee, who walks by? Geronimo! Only he has apparently changed characters for balloon blowing and he is now Trapper Dan. I really don't think the guy is mentally stable.

After breakfast and a quick look around the shops, we left town headed for Wickenburg. After a pretty uneventful afternoon, we made our way back to B-Town.

That night, Diddy decided that he wanted to go to BWW for some wings and beer and we thought that sounded harmless enough. We were wrong. First of all, our waiter was like the butler in Mr. Deeds. He just kept appearing out of nowhere. Then, we ran into some people Diddy knows and one of the girls had a permanent bracelet, which just about made me throw up. Then, karaoke started. I can't even begin to tell you about the people who think that they can sing. And they were singing like it was open mic night at a bar in Nashville and they were going to get discovered by RCA. We laughed until we cried! And the best part of the whole thing is that the Karaoke Diva running the machine had a haircut inspired by the one pictured below:



I'm in North Dakota this week, so I imagine there will be some more stories to tell soon.

Walkin' In Memphis...

Apparently there is someting about the Memphis airport that makes everyone want to sing. I bet I have sat next to or walked by at least 5 people who broke out in random song at the top of their lungs.

I'm so confused!

In Phoenix, AZ, We Drank Way Too Much Corona

And woke up by the river, in Jeff City, MO...

Unfortunately, I never knew how true the lyrics to that Big&Rich song would be to my life. But this weekend, that was the exact story of my life, and not for any entertaining purpose.

This was the weekend of Hillbilly Hell! The title that I gave to this weekend turned out to be way too true to life!

Let me start from the beginning...

On Thursday afternoon, I was scheduled to fly out of the Phoenix airport, headed to Memphis, to make my connection to Columbia, MO. (Which the bride said, was a little smaller than KC or St. Louis.) Besides the fact that the TSA peeps took my ice packs for my lunch box, everything went as planned. In Memphis, I met up with the only other bridesmaid, who I had never met before. Again, this was pretty normal. It was when we boarded our plane that things started to turn. After you gave the lady your boarding pass, she said, "go down the stairs and stay inside the white lines to the last plane in that group." Excuse me? This was not a joke, after you walked down the stairs, you were on the tarmac and there were about seven planes sitting there with their engines running. Imagine if you accidentally boarded the wrong plane and ended up in Shubuta, Mississippi?? That would be a bad day! Unless, of course, you ran into "Ol' Yella' Dawg."

The flight wasn't bad, even though we were on a prop plane the size of a closet, and we made it to Columbia without incident. Once there, Alabama Slamma* and her fiance met us at baggage claim and we headed to Jeff City to find something to eat. Of course, when we got out to the car and loaded our bags they gave us each a beer. As far as I know, it is still not legal in Missouri to drive around with an open container. Apparently, they were not concerned about this small detail.

They asked us repeatedly what we would like to eat, and neither of us really cared, we were just hungry, so they took us to a Mexican food restaurant. (I will stop here and let you know that the other bridesmaid was from West Texas. The both of us are familiar with good Mexican food, and I'm pretty sure we weren't going to find it in Missouri's Capitol city.) Either way, we sit down, the fiance orders two pitchers of margaritas and we enjoy a small dinner before heading to our hotel - correction, motel. We are staying at the Econo Lodge because the MOB is paying for it. I would have gladly paid and upgraded!!

So morning rolls around and the bride and groom have to meet with the pastor, so the Texas Tornado* and I spend the morning with a walk to McDonald's (in pouring rain with people looking at us like we were crazy) for coffee and getting ready for the day. At around 11, the couple shows up and we all go to get lunch.

We then spend the remainder of the day running ridiculous errands that should have been completed prior to the day before the wedding. Literally, all day long, we ran around town dropping things off, picking things up, and comforting Alabama because her mom is a raging psycho and wasn't coming into town until the day of the wedding. This was not fun. I now have two questions before agreeing to be in a wedding: what color are the bridesmaid dresses? and have you hired a wedding planner? If the answer to both of those questions is not what I want it to be, the answer is no. (If you are reading this, and someday hope to have me be in your wedding, the ideal responses are the black dress of your choice and yes. There are a few other combinations that will work, but if the second answer is no - I'm out.)

At some point, we go to the house of the couple, where they have cats. Yes, cats, plural. And they live in the house. And shit in a box. It smells and I wanted to die! Also, the cats get on the kitchen table. In my opinion, there is nothing more disgusting than a cat (or any animal for that matter) on a surface where food is prepared or consumed. This is the ultimate "face-punch" offense. I'm serious!

That night consisted of a bbq at the house. Oh, are you wondering where we fit rehearsal in? We didn't. Because her parents could not inconvenience themselves to come the day before the wedding, we were scheduled to rehearse at 1:00 pm the day of the wedding. Which also means, no rehearsal dinner. Thus, the bbq at the house. About 10 people showed up - it was not much fun and the hamburgers were burnt. And, everyone made a big deal about the guacamole that the groom made and it was literally just mashed up avocados and a packet of seasoning. This is what they considered good Mexican food...

The day of the wedding turned out to be the worst of them all. We were instructed to get to the house at 8:30 am to begin the day's activities. We had to check into the hotel that they would go to after the wedding, get ready for the wedding, pick up the flowers, rehearse the ceremony, get the groom's daughters ready for the wedding (did I mention that he has a 10 and 12 year old that need their asses whooped like you wouldn't believe?!?!), getting dressed, taking pictures, and then finally the wedding.

The rehearsal was more chaos than I can handle! It was like I was dealing with a bunch of apes who had never even been to a wedding. How hard is it to walk down the aisle and then back again? Apparently for these folks, it was like doing quantam physics - completely impossible!

Finally, the wedding was over and it was time to head to the reception. Fun, right? No. The entertainment was an accordion player. I can't make this up. An accordian player who apparently knows over 4,000 songs. To me this is not admirable, it is a good reason to get punched in the face. When we got to the reception, we ate, did toasts, cut cake, the couple did their first dance (they decided to forgo the accordion playing for this and used a CD), did the chicken dance and hokey pokey, threw birdseed on them as they left, and went home. I was in bed by 11:30 pm.

I wish that I would have video taped one conversation with the MOB - this woman is literally the MOST redneck, hillbilly, knuckle dragging person I have ever met. Picture a cross between Granny from "Beverly Hillbillies" and the adoptive mom from "Pete's Dragon." If I'm lyin', I'm dyin' people. She would be a dead ringer if the two of them procreated. Every other word out of her mouth was a curse word and usually the F-word. She can't have any conversation without talking about sex or drinking. And when the man told her that she couldn't take her beer out of the reception facility, she flipped him off. I felt like I was at a southern Special Ed Fraternity party when I was around her. The woman is ridiculous.

The groom's parents obviously were not fans of the bride and looked like they were being tortured the entire time.

The other bridesmaid told me that she would be shocked if the marriage lasted 10 years.

The only entertaining part of the night came when a little boy, who was about 5 had the following conversation with his dad in the hallway outside of the bathrooms:

Dad: Here's the boys room, but someone is in it. Let's wait here.
Little Boy: (pointing to the writing on the door) Is that how you spell boy?
Dad: That says Men
LB: (pointing to a door across the hall) What does that say?
Dad: That says "private."
LB: (after a short pause) Oh, that must be for girls.

It was HIILLLARIOUUUS!

When we arrived this morning for our flight, we had to ring the bell at the desk for someone to check us into our flight. I asked if I could get on the earlier flight and the gentleman who also worked as the maintanence man and baggage person, told me that he wouldn't know until he knew how much fuel he had. What? Do you not have a tank out there? Can't you just put more if you need to??

Apparently not, but he did have enough fuel for me and I was able to get a seat. So we walk around to security and it is closed. Apparently at this airport, security only opens 10 minutes prior to the plane leaving so you just hang out in the lobby while you wait. And the only other things in the lobby are two rental car counters and three vending machines. A little smaller than KC and St. Louis turned out to be the understatment of the year...

Waging A War...

Today is the day that I head to Missouri for the weekend that I have dubbed, "Hillbilly Hell." A former roommate is getting married and I have been asked (surprise, surprise) to be a bridesmaid. As a side note: if anyone has any suggestions of ways to politely turn down a request of this type - I am VERY open to them!

This morning, I was readying myself and my house for the weekend away. This usually consists of taking out the trash, washing the dishes, starting the dishwasher, etc. As I begin to rinse out the sink for dish-washing, I look down and there is a scorpion in it. I try, unsuccessfully to drown him. Then I have a mild heart attack, call Match.mom, and run through my house trying to find a bottle of isopropyl alcohol. (I somehow remember that this kills scorpions.) I don't find any, but I do get Match on the phone. She tells me to calm down and pour bleach on the intruder - after she asks me if I'm sure it's a scorpion. Am I sure?? Are you kidding me???

A half bottle of bleach later, the apparent cockroach-scorpion hybrid has not died. However, I have immobilized him enough that I feel safe reaching into the sink to smash him with something.

After disposing of him properly, I begin to realize what has just happened - a spider in the shower and then a scorpion in the sink - those bastards have just fired a shot across the bow. I DO NOT take that lightly! So, as soon as I return home from the disaster that is going to be this weekend, I am waging war! I will call the exterminator and spread some powdered laundry detergent around the perimeter of my house (apparently this slowly kills scorpions by eating away their flesh).

Just remember, in this battle, "if you're not with us, you're against us!"

You'll Never Believe It...

Last weekend, I flew to Sacramento to surprise EID for her 30th birthday! She turned 30 earlier in the week, amid a major mental breakdown, and was spending the weekend at a conference in California's Capitol City.

So, on Friday afternoon, I boarded a plane at Phoenix Sky Harbor headed to Sac-town. Unbeknownst to EID, Auditor and I had devised a plan in which she would pick me up from the airport and we would surprise EID at the hotel.

I arrive in Sac, later than planned, due to a delay somewhere else in the world earlier that day. And it is raining. Not just a sprinkle that might let up soon - full on rain. And I didn't bring any rain clothes. My lucky day.

As I stand under cover, enjoying my snack of edamame, (did you know that you can't bring yogurt on the plane? It is considered a cream), my old boyfriend from "Stay Beautiful" found me. Seriously, I can not make this up.

I saw him out of the corner of my eye and immediately pulled out my phone to call Match.mom. For two reasons, really. 1. To appear busy so that he would not talk to me, and 2. To tell her what was happening. However, he walked up to me and stood there until I hung up. So I couldn't tell her that the crazy man who told me to stay beautiful was standing right in front of me.

I successfully blew him off, but I'm kind of scared to ever fly into that airport again...

Next Stop - Crazytown!

Well, it's finally here - wedding week. Obviously not my wedding week. That would just be crazy! Wait, wedding week? Since when are weddings week long affairs? Oh well.

As you all know, my younger brother is getting married on Friday. My younger brother is getting married and I do not have a date. Pretty shitty, right?

It gets better!

Two weeks ago, I attended the wedding of my younger brother's best friend on Saturday night. The next day, at our family Easter gathering, my younger cousin got engaged. Two weeks after little brother gets married - I will get on a plane to Missouri to be in the wedding of a friend. Today, I got an invitation in the mail for a former colleague's wedding.

WTF??

To be honest, it is amazing that I am sitting here typing this post and not drowning myself in a bottle of Crown right now.

It Is About the Warrior...

If you missed the Academy of Country Music Awards, you missed a great performance by Trace Adkins.