It's Time to Get Me Outta Here!

Is 7 weeks too early to start counting down to a vacation?

Even if it is, my countdown has already started.

In 7 weeks Leland and I will be leaving town for my birthday, driving to Savannah, GA for a week of goofing off and misbehaving. Why Savannah, GA you might ask? Well, Leland and I love roadtrips. We were planning on taking one last year that we had to cancel because of my awesome abilities to cause extreme injury to myself. It has been nearly three years since our last vacation and we both wanted to do something this summer. And since I am the most indecisive person in the world, I sighed up for Groupons in several places around the country. I decided to let Groupon make the decision for me.

One day a few months ago the Groupon for that chosen day was 50% off a king suite at a hotel in Savannah, GA. The decision had been made. Though we were dreaming about a trip, staying in a hotel for 6 nights can be so expensive and we weren't sure if we could afford $1000 just for a hotel room. But with the amazing Groupon deal we were able to start planning our trip.

(No, this isn't a commercial for Groupon, I just really love them right now).

We were also able to book a walking tour for 50% off on Groupon, as well as 50% off a carriage ride ghost tour (Savannah is apparently a very haunted city), and I got a $60 gift certificate for a sushi restaurant for only $20. Oh, and I bought a Groupon for a dolphin watching boat ride that was 50% off.

So as I am at work and should be getting work done, I cannot stop day dreaming about getting the hell out of town. I am excited to go here:



The Juliette Gordon Low house. Juliette Gordon Low is the founder of the Girl Scouts of America, and you all know how much I heart the Girl Scouts! I am so excited to take a picture in front of it!

We will also be stopping here:



This is one of Savannah's 24 squares, and the square made famous by the opening park bench scene in Forrest Gump. Leland and I have plans to rent bikes and see all 24 squares while we are there.

But I think I am most excited about going here:



I hope to spend my birthday doing nothing but hanging out at the beach. That would make my birthday a very happy day. But for now, I am sitting in my office, looking at pictures with my head in the clouds. I know the 7 weeks will fly by, and though I really want to take my vacation, I don't want to wish away my last few weeks of still being in my 20's!

Meet the Neighbors

This past Saturday was a beautiful spring day in my area, and for the first time in months, the neighbors were outside enjoying the weather. Leland and I even took a little time to catch up with our neighbors Dan and Margie. Dan and Margie are great neighbors, but we haven’t always been that lucky. Read on about The Drug Dealers, The Reclusive Weirdoes, and The Asshole Prankster. And because not all of our neighbors have been bad, I’ve included The Best Neighbors in the Whole Goddamn World. The Drug Dealers: Now, I cannot be absolutely sure that we had drug dealers living next door, but all evidence points to that being that case. At all hours of the day and night, random people would pull up, park on the street and leave their cars running. They would go inside, and then leave moments later. This happened at least 8 times every single day. I really wasn’t that concerned about the drugs they were dealing, however the middle of the night arguments that the man and woman had were out of control. They yelled and screamed loud enough for the whole block to have an intimate account of their arguments. Words like whore, slut, good for nothing bitch were thrown around nonstop. They got evicted shortly after we moved in because I called the landlord and complained multiple times. The Best Neighbors in the Whole Goddamn World: Right after we moved in The Best Neighbors in the Whole Goddamn World moved in right next door. They were a couple in their late 30’s who had the sweetest daughter ever. We became friends very quickly, mostly because the man would come over to our house every Friday after work with beer for everyone. Our Beer-thirty Friday nights became a tradition. On the weekends we would do hard work together, let the dogs play, grill food and drink some more. We walked into each other’s houses without knocking, and had keys to each other’s houses in case the doors were locked for some reason. I am pretty sure I cried when they told us they were moving. Even now, we still call each other “neighbor.” The Asshole Pranksters: When we moved in Leland and I expected to be the loud, annoying people on the block. So at first we were relieved to find that someone else already at that title. A single 20-something male lived two doors down. He was loud, obnoxious and rude. He had shady friends over and treated me and our then roommate Star like shit. He was a gross, chauvinist pig. So when Leland started complaining to him about the way he was treating the ladies, Asshole Prankster got pissed. Once he peed on our front porch. Another time he came over and broke two of my flower pots. During a party he was having him and some friends came over and smashed the bricks that made up our front steps. Please reports were filed but we were never able to press charges. Eventually he left us alone, but that was only after Leland went to his house and threatened him. It really worked to our advantage that Leland is big and scary. When he put a For Sale sign in his front yard Leland and I celebrated with a bottle of champagne. The Reclusive Weirdoes: When The Best Neighbors in the Whole Goddamn World moved out, the Reclusive Weirdoes moved in. The Reclusive Weirdoes are a family of five. They have two teenage boys and a girl who is probably 9 or 10 right now. They have lived right next door to us and WE NEVER SEE THEM. The young girl never plays outside. The teenage boys don’t even mow the lawn. The last time we saw the man was in the beginning of February right after we had a blizzard. I have honestly forgotten what the woman looks like because I haven’t seen her in MONTHS. Yes, they are quiet and never cause problems, but I cannot get over how weird it is that they live next door and they never emerge from their house. Dan and Margie: Dan and Margie live on the other side of us. They moved in a few years ago and are absolutely wonderful. They are about my parents age, and I think they like having Leland and I around. I think Dan sees a lot of himself in Leland. Dan was a former wild child, he loves listening to the band practice in the basement, and he loves talking to all of the band guys about music and jamming. Dan sold us our motorcycle, he plows our driveway in the winter, helps us with pretty much whatever we need in the summer. And in return I bake them pies.

I Have Been Lost....In a Good Book

For the past few weeks, I have been doing something I haven’t done in a really long time. I have been reading books.

I canceled my Facebook page and found I had all of this extra time to do some reading. And then once I started reading, I just couldn’t stop, so my blog was put on hold as well. Now I need to figure out how to balance reading and blogging. Because I like to do both and would like to be able to do both.

Right now I am reading Scent of the Missing: Love and Partnership with a Search and Rescue Dog by Susannah Charleson. For all of you dog/animal lovers out there, it is a must read. It’s funny and heartwarming and has even made me allow my dog Bacchus to lay in bed with Leland and I on occasion.

I just finished reading all of the Dragon Tattoo books by Steig Larsson. Loved them.

I have been reading some Jennifer Weiner chick lit, as well as some really bad books I checked out from the library. I love the library. Did you know you can rent books there for free????? For so long I was spending so much money buying books. I used to spend about $150 a month on books.

But not anymore.

The library is saving me so much money!

I will be heading back to the library tonight with hopes of finding a few more books that are worthy of my attention. I am sure I will leave with an armful.

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.

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.

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.

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….