Friday, February 25, 2011

Tales from my Twenties--Continuing with my 80's Rock Concert Shenanigans.

In July 2009, Leland and I went with our good friends Danny and Kathryn to see Ratt at the House of Blues in Chicago.

We love Ratt, and were both way pumped to be able to see them perform Body Talk live. Body Talk is one of our favorite songs.

When we made it to Chicago, we had about 30 minutes until Danny and Kathryn were supposed to meet us, so we went to the bar next door to the House of Blues and ordered a drink. About half way through that first drink, I decided it was an excellent idea for us to do a shot. Leland was a little apprehensive because he knows how I get once I start doing shots, but I assured him it would just be one. He should know me better than that.

We did our shot and then went outside to meet Danny and Kathryn.

As soon as I saw Kathryn I remembered a very important fact about her: she loves doing tequila shots as much as I do.

Just one more shot, I told Leland. We are at Ratt and I have to do a tequila shot with Kathryn. Don’t worry, I said, it’ll just be the one shot.

We took our one shot and followed it with a beer.

We were having a good time, so naturally I thought we should do another shot. Nothing says “let’s party” like a shot of tequila. I ignored Leland’s protests and ordered two more shots for me and Kathryn. He shouldn’t even have tried to protest because there was no way he was going to win that argument.

I was probably getting a little wild and crazy. Probably. The thing is, I don’t really remember much. Apparently 80’s music concerts make me get all kinds of drunk and forget important things.

I remember taking several more shots. I remember there was a point when I could barely walk. I remember thinking that all of those shots of tequila were not a good idea. I remember thinking that I should never have opened a tab with our debit card.

And that is all I remembered until I woke up on the ground in a parking garage, next to a very large pile of vomit.

I can only imagine what I must have looked like to random people walking to their parked cars.

I remember waking up, not having any idea how I got where I was. I remember being so happy that I was right next to my car and that I didn’t lock myself out when I got out of the car to puke. And then I remembered dumping the contents of my purse all over the ground to find my cell phone so I could locate Leland. And I think it was at that moment that I saw Leland, Danny and Kathryn walking toward me like a mirage in the distance.

I was still very drunk and my vision was very blurry.

Apparently Leland took me to our car because I wanted him to be able to see the concert. I guess it didn’t occur to either of us that I might decide to leave the car once I got there. Lucky for me I was way too drunk to stay upright.

Though I puked a lot, I spent two days being hung over.

Oh, and I didn’t learn my lesson. I still love doing tequila shots, though now I will only do them at home. And I am so glad there were no camera’s around this time to document my drunkenness.

P.S. I can so feel my mother beaming with pride as she reads these stories.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

I Have a Rubber Butt

In my real life I am a very nice person.

(I’m a nice person online too, so I guess that would just make me a nice person in general.)

I like to take care of people so I go out of my way to make others happy. I make myself available to my friends and family whenever they need me. If I am at work or busy doing something else, I will drop everything if someone texts me that they need me to call.

I make the call. I do what I need to do to be there for the people I love and care about.

What is this about, you may be wondering…

I have no idea why some people decide to be blatantly rude to me for no reason.

Take Snake, for instance. Snake likes to pretend that he is in his mid-twenties and party with us until dawn. He is very creepy. He is the older guy who will come up behind you and rub your shoulders even if you didn’t ask him to. He is the older guy who will make jokes about you giving him a blow job. I don’t like him (that’s why I am calling him Snake) but I have never been mean or rude to him. I just keep my distance whenever he is around. I have never extended the hand of friendship but always smile and am polite when I happen to see him.

For some reason he treats me so badly whenever possible. A few months ago while we were at a friend’s wedding, Snake told me that I looked like a whore.

I didn’t look like a whore at all. I was wearing a dress that was right below my knees and I wasn’t showing any cleavage. And several people commented on how pretty I looked. And honestly, the way I looked as nothing to do with it and shouldn't even be considered. What really matters was the display of poor manners.

(That was actually a pretty shitty day for me because the bride’s sister felt the need to point out that I am a “chunky girl.” That made me feel awesome. So even though several people thought I looked amazing, all I could think was that I looked like a chunky whore.)

Once Snake came up to me and questioned why anyone was even friends with me.

The funny thing is, I have been getting that question a lot lately. People have actually been wondering how I have any friends.

I’m not going to get defensive and list reasons why people want to be friends with me. That would just be silly. The people who read my blog because they like to, because they know me and love me, because they think I am funny and because we have formed positive, friendly relationships with each other know exactly why someone would want to be my friend.

And I know what those reasons are as well. So bring on the rudeness, I am not going to let it get me down.

I have a rubber butt, I bounce back.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Tales From my Twenties -- Rocklahoma Style

In the spring of 2007 Leland called me at work. “Do you have any interest in taking a road trip to Oklahoma?” he asked.

“Not really,” I said.

“How bout if we were going to see White Lion in concert?” he asked.

I almost didn’t believe him, but sure as shit, White Lion was playing at Rocklahoma, an 80’s hair band/cock rock music festival. I am fairly certain we bought our 3 day passes that night.

We love White Lion and actually give them a little credit for us being together.

In July, we packed the car and road tripped to the concert. We brought all the essentials: clothes, sunscreen and the beer bong.

The festival was in this big field, with tents of merchandise, food and beer set up all around the perimeter. It was HOT. So I did the only smart thing: I started drinking excessive amounts of Miller Chill, even though I thought it was sort of gross.

We were outside for the entire day, switching off between watching a band, drinking beer and doing shots in the alcohol tents, and heading back to the parking lot to make some friends and do beer bongs with total strangers.

I had no idea how drunk I was.

I vaguely remember taking drunken photos with random people.

I sort of recall laying on the grass by my car and taking a nap.

There are hazy images of Leland sticking his fingers down my throat to make me throw up.

I think I even remember some guys seeing Leland trying to make me vomit and commenting on how it was sort of a weird form of porn.

But I had no idea how drunk I was until the following morning. When I was going through my pockets to see how much cash I had left, I found a signed consent form from the Howard Stern film crew. Apparently I gave them permission to use footage of my breasts for their TV show, along with the drunken interview I gave them. The topless, drunken interview I gave them.

Apparently I didn’t learn my lesson after drunkenly signing a consent form for Girls Gone Wild. That story will be coming later.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

I Once Made Out With A....

Last week RN Mama told us a story about how she pseudo-dated a rodeo clown. Of course this made me think about all the unsavory traveling freakshows I have dated.

Well, there was actually only one traveling freakshow in my past.

I know, surprising, right?

(The other freakshows weren't traveling)

And I didn't date this one, it was just a one time impulse decision.

But the one I have was bad enough that I up until now I have only shared this very dark secret with a few people. Like my very good friend Amy....

Last summer I was sitting outside with a friend, drinking boxed wine. We were pretty blitzed and having a great time when my cell phone rang.

It was Amy and it was late so I answered it, thinking that maybe something was wrong.

Instead I could hear her giggling. “Al,” she said. “Mike and I were just leaving Summerfest and we were laughing about the time you made out with a Carnie!”

Only a very, very good friend can get away with making a phone call strictly to laugh at you. But it was funny, and I couldn’t help but laugh along with her. Amy and I weren’t yet friends when the Carnie kissing happened, so she was trying to remember the details to tell her husband Mike about it.

I had to have been around 14 or 15. You know, old enough to go to the county fair with just my sister, but young enough to think that the carnie running the carousel was HOT. I was also young enough to think that nothing would make me happier than having him stick his dirty tongue down my throat.

I remember my sister thinking that he was gross, and that I should not pay any attention to him. But my sister and I split up to hang out with our friends separately, so I did not have her with me to protect me from acting stupid.

For some reason I can remember exactly what I was wearing that day. I was wearing light blue jeans, not quite stonewashed, but close enough. I have no idea why I was wearing jeans because I remember being uncomfortable hot. It was the first week of August in the Midwest. Of course I was hot. I also had on a light pink tank top and brown sandals. I must have been looking smokin’ because I caught the carnie’s eye.

Lucky me!

I must have been so entranced with the carnie because I would not listen to anyone who told me that I should not be flirting with him. I did not care that other people thought it wasn’t a good idea. Instead, I left my friends and spent a good part of the day riding the carousel.

Too bad he didn’t run something cool, like the tilt-a-whirl.

When his shift was over we spent the rest of the night riding whatever I wanted to ride for free. I thought that was a pretty sweet deal. We made out a lot, and then I went home. Thank goddess my sister was smart enough not to take me back to the fair that year. I am sure she saved me from doing other very stupid things.

p.s. Carnie boy may have been the first boy to feel me up, but I’m not really sure….

Monday, February 14, 2011

As it Turns Out, It is ALL About the Cookies

I am a little embarrassed today.

No, I didn't do something regretful this weekend.

Well, maybe I did.

Remeber when I wrote the post about the things I learned in Girl Scouts? Remember when I admitted to all of you that I was a Girl Scout until I graduated high school?

Well, if you didn't know, it's Girl Scout cookie time. I usually have a family member or child of a friend that I order from, but this year no one came knocking on my door. So when RN Mama posted a giveaway on her blog that would win me 3 boxes of cookies, I just had to participate. I did whatever I could to win those cookies, even sending her a picture of myself in my Girl Scout uniform when I was 15!

Yes people. The proof that I was a major nerd in high school is hanging out at RN Mama today. Go take a look.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Tales from my Twenties

In June I will be turning 30. I’m sort of looking forward to it, excited for all of the things a new decade in my life will bring. My 20’s were amazing. I had fun nearly every single day. I had all sorts of new experiences. I got myself into all kinds of trouble. My 20’s were pure magic.

Though I have faith that my 30’s will be even better, I have decided that my 20’s should receive a proper farewell. So please indulge me for the next 4 months as I tell you some of the best tales from my twenties.

I Have Yet ANOTHER Accident

Wednesday started off as just another day at work. I was dead tired because I didn’t sleep well the night before. I was having one of those days where I felt like I shouldn’t even get out of bed. But duty calls, so I got my ass up and went into work.

It was a normal day for all of two hours.

And then my sleep deprived, emotionally exhausted brain decided to get on the forklift.

Sometimes I am a really big idiot and don’t think about what I am doing. This was one of those times. If I was thinking about what I was doing I would have turned around while I was backing up, instead of just putting the forklift in reverse and stepping on the gas.

No, I didn’t hit another person. I didn’t injure anyone.

But I did hit the furnace that was hanging from the ceiling and cause a massive gas leak.

My boss called 911 and we were told to evacuate the building. When emergency responders showed up, they had to evacuate the entire building. So, because of me, there were dozens of people standing outside in the 6 degree temps, freezing their asses off. A few of us were smart (surprisingly I was one of the smart ones) and decided to wait in our cars until we were given the ok to go back in the building, but for the most part people were freezing outside. Some of them even decided to evacuate the building without grabbing coats.

I sat in my car and waited. Finally a police officer came to talk to me because I needed to file an accident report. It was all professional and boring until he asked me one question.

"Do you get in accidents like this a lot?"

It seems even strangers can tell how accident prone I am.

After laughing to myself I said, “Well, not exactly like this one, but yes.”

When I told Leland what happened he said, “Yeah, that sounds like something you would do.”

After a while we were allowed to go back into the building. It was a little warmer inside, but not by much because the fire department couldn’t tell which gas valve was for my particular unit so they had to turn off the gas for the whole building. And then they had to turn off the electricity.

From 10am until 2:30pm, no business in the entire building was able to operate. We didn’t have heat or electricity for over 4 hours.

All because of me.

I love being the cause of so much chaos.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Humpity Hump

Last night Leland and I were laying in bed, discussing sex. Really, it actually is all we talk about anymore. As of today, with the new year of sex, we are 15 times behind.

Leland blames me for this.

I can hardly blame him. I am the one who bleeds from my vagina for 5 days every month. And as it turns out, this month I have a cold sore on my lip and am bleeding from my vagina at the exact same time.

So I am pretty much useless.

Leland tells me I need to get a stunt double.

Apparently if I had a stunt double, banging out 700 times will be easy. Since he is always ready to go, and I seem to be the person in the mix who keeps setting us behind, obviously a stunt double is necessary.

We all remember last year’s great failure. We all remember the precious time we lost because I just had to go rollerblading. We all remember the yeast infection in my butthole (oh, you forgot about that? You were trying to erase that from your memory? Never fear, I will always be here to help you remember things you subliminally blocked from your memory). And I was the one who got lazy at the end of the year and just decided to stop trying. Leland, however, never got tired of it. He never had anything happen that kept him from performing. Leland is ready to have sex 700 times in one year, and then also be some other guy’s stunt double for the same exercise.

Leland has very few requirements for my stunt double. Or cunt double, if you will.

She must be a she.

She must be disease free.

She must not be on the same menstruation cycle as me.

And she must be willing to spread her legs whenever HE is ready and able.

Oh, and she must do this for free, because we are broke and cannot afford to pay her.

Sounds like a sweet deal, right?

(Is this too much? Am I taking this too far? No? Then let’s go further)


If only there was some girl out there whose main goal in life was to be my stunt double. It would make my life a whole lot easier. And it might give me time to read a few good books this year.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

A Weekend Getaway

Leland and I had the most amazing weekend in Marquette, MI.

As most of you know, I don’t *do* winter. I loathe it. It turns me into a mean and nasty person. It makes me whine and cry and act really pathetic. My attitude makes Leland want to run and hide. He cannot handle me during the winter months. So you can just imagine our surprise when I was happy and relaxed and enjoyed my weekend even farther up north where there is a ton more snow.

At least there is more snow there right now, but I am sure that won’t be the case when we get the 24 inches of snow that the weatherman keeps threatening.

The weekend was all kinds of wonderful. The groom’s parents rented a coach bus for all of the out of town guests heading up for the wedding. So instead of having to deal with the long drive, we were able to sit back, relax, drink a ton of beer, and have fun with the other people on the bus. At some point during the trip I was loaded enough to think it was a good idea to call the hotel and ask for a room upgrade.

And boy I am glad I did.

Leland and I spent the weekend in a huge suite with a Jacuzzi in the bathroom. I know I don’t need to be specific about what we did all weekend! Unlike the other people who were anxious to spend the extra time out at bars, Leland and I spent the weekend in our room. We took lots of long bubble baths, we drank wine, we played card games. We did a ton of relaxing.

The wedding was beautiful and the reception was so much fun. I think I danced the entire night. I think. There was an open bar so I can’t be too sure. You know how too much alcohol can make you brown out….

Everything was wonderful.

The only thing that was not awesome was the 6 inch heels I decided to wear. They were a big mistake. What was I thinking? I am the klutz supreme. I should have known better than to buy 6 inch heels! They did look really hot though!