NYC, LA, LV, KC. Wait, WHAAAAT?!?

This blog was started on December 7th, and not finished....

First of all, I want to take a moment to wish a Happy Birthday to two basketball greats of our time: Larry Bird, who is 51 today, and Ousmane Barro, who will not likely be celebrating his 23rd birthday, which is also today. It's ok, Ous, I will celebrate for you!

Anyway, this blog is LONG overdue. Lately, I haven't experienced much that has been blog worthy, so I thought I would go back to some things in the past that I didn't blog before but should have.

Last year, we were having meetings at school to talk about how to increase the language proficiency of students in our school. Apparently at a meeting that I did not attend, the principal decided that it would be a good idea to send Lers and I to a conference on the topic.

Whaaaaaaat???

We wondered, has she met us? Does she know what we're about? This is an absurdity.

Lers and I, the dynamic duo of drunkeness, were to travel to Kansas City to attend a conference, and our airfare and hotel would be paid for by none other than our lovely school district. Holla!

I don't think it's even possible to describe how excited we were for such and adventurous voyage!

We were to spend three nights and four days in good ol' KC.

AC volunteered to drive us to the airport, and as usual, Lers was runnin' late, which caused AC some serious stress. It ended up working out perfectly, though, and we just didn't have to wait as long.

We got to the airport, checked our bags, and enjoyed our flight.

We arrived in KC, which my grandpa had informed me was the City of Fountains. There was not a fountain in sight.

There were, however, signs that said such things as "NYC, LA, LV, KC." As though Kansas City is on par with New York City, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas. Come on now....

To our dismay, we found that there were many other teachers flying in from all over the central states for this conference.

In case you didn't know, I think teaching is the least fashion-savvy profession. Almost every time I see a group of teachers together, it makes me want to call the boys from Queer Eye, or Stacy and Clinton from What Not To Wear, or someone who has the ability to take away my eyesight.

You can spot these women a mile away.

The regular teachers are pretty bad.... Our school doesn't seem like THAT big of a struggle to me, but that could be because I'm used to it. I went to a district Math meeting last week, and that made my eyes bleed. There was a teacher with a medallion that was the symbol that used to represent Prince's name during his time as "The Artist Formerly Known As 'Prince'." No, I am not kidding.

But let me just tell you, foreign language teachers are the worst dressed people in the United States. Someone should call Mr. Blackwell right now and just let him know to look no further than a foreign language conference.

By the end of that week (which we kept calling a weekend, because that is what it felt like!), I was ready to swear that if I saw another woman wearing Eiffel Tower earrings, or carrying an Eiffel Tower totebag, or wearing socks of the same design, and so on, that I was going to stab myself repeatedly in the eye with an Eiffel Tower pencil topper (which I am sure were available in the room with all of the vendors).

Anyway, we spotted thesse 50-something's a mile away, and tried to avoid them as much as possible.

We got to our hotel, which was the Hyatt Regency Crown Centre. Big pimpin', for us teachers!

____that was where I stopped on the 7th.... Continuing now! _____________

So we check in and get our keys and such. We decide to ask about where the best places to go are for food and drinks and so on in KC so that we would have good recommendations. So I asked the guy at the desk, and he gives me a map of the city, which he marks with about 1500 different x's and circles. It was beyond overwhelming. And we were quite hungry.

What made the hotel we stayed in more than just a regular hotel was the fact that it was attached to this giant building that was a mall with a lot of restaurants and such.

Lers and I decided to check it out....

This gigantic mall was attached to the hotel via a skywalk thing that was entitled, "THE LINK."

This would become immensely important to our lives during our stay in KC.

We went to a place that made subs and pizzas. Since we were starving, we each decided to get a slice of cheese, and another slice. Lers went with pepperoni for her second slice. I was less decisive, and then ended up with a slice called "Da Bronx," which was also the name of the restaurant.

Wow.

Da Bronx was a slice of pizza that was about three inches tall. It had sausage, pepperoni, canadian bacon, hamburger, onions, peppers, mushrooms... I feel like I am even forgetting something. Black olives? It was a lot.

We decided that a picture was necessary. Unfortunately, we decided this after I had eaten a lot of it and smashed it down. I had wondered why the people in the restaurant were shocked by my order, and making comments about how I must be hungry... Until I saw my twenty pound pizza. Here it is.

After our very large meal, we decided to check this mall out. There were lots of cool stores, like the crayola store, where we drew pictures on easels, and the chocolate factory store, where they make fudge and all kinds of delicious treats.

We also went to a dog store. So far on this pattern, you may think that they sell dogs, but you'd definitely be wrong. However, they did sell merchandise that celebrated every dog breed imaginable. I deeply offended the clerk when I suggested that Lers buy AC Gilman a pair of Bichon Frisé socks, and he more or less asked us to leave. It was hilarious.

And don't worry. Cat lovers, don't fret. There was a cat store as well.

Freaks!

Anyway, the time of the trip, as I may have mentioned (I started this blog over a month ago, and don't feel like re-reading it all now), was during the Big East Tournament. So we knew we'd have to watch that, since Ous and MU were in it.

But where? The possibilities were completely overwhelming. And of course, we were going to want to drink.

SO, we decided to ask the wise woman at the cat place where we could get some alcohol. We had come to the conclusion, as poor teachers, that we should watch in our hotel room, and relax. After all, the flight had taken quite a bit out of us.

The wise (freaky) woman at the cat place told us that what he needed to do was go to The Apothecary, which was a drug/convenience store in the basement of the mall. Jackpot! We bought some cat cards from the kind crazy cat lady for us to play some games in our room whilst enjoying the game. And since we were so tired, we ordered room service to watch the game.

We thought we should take a picture of our array of tools.

You can see clockwise from top left... The captain, of course, courtesy of the Apothecary. Next, the bucket of ice we'd use to put in our drinks. Then there's the program for our conference, and a bottle of diet coke. Next is my glass, which is proping up my nametag and lanyard. Then is the coupon book, which included my coupons for the shops in the mall, including what we used on the cat cards, and at the Apothecary. This coupon book is, of course, leaning up against a lime green cat-shaped case for the $7 cat cards... Then Lers' nametag on her lanyard, and Ler's glass. Looks like a good time to me, no?

Well, to make a long story short, Lers and I would get quite reliant on "THE LINK." In fact, we would never even leave the complex, until on our final day.

You may be wondering, "Why does she keep putting 'THE LINK' in the weird quotes and all capital letters?

That would be because of the signage and labeling.

Check it out.

Yeah, it's blurry. I took it on the last night of our trip. I was hammered.

I know, I went straight from the first night of the trip to the last night.

It was almost a year ago. Also, honestly, we really didn't leave the hotel at all. We watched basketball and SVU every night in our room, and ate at restaurants that we could get to through the link. We honestly did go to the conferences we were supposed to go to. And let me promise you, we spent a great deal of time laughing hysterically, and making fun of our colleagues. We also hid our lanyards all over the complex, as there was a pharmeceutical sales convention going on at the same time, and all those people seemed normal and dressed all kinds of fly. We didn't want to be associated with the whack job foreign language teachers!

On the last night, we still had a fair amount of the Captain left, and a decent amount diet left. So, we decided we'd have to finish off the alcohol, as we'd certainly not let it go to waste.

I asked Lers to make me a drink whilst I sent Ous the obligatory "good luck" text.

Here's a picture of it prior to the addition of the diet coke....

Note to all reading: If you desire to maintain sobriety, do not ask Lers to make you a drink.

Chi hua hua.

Another thing you might've been wondering is what this link situation looks like.

Here's "THE LINK" in all its glory, as seen from our hotel room.

That snakey lookin' thang is "THE LINK."

So Lers and I got hammered, and watched the MU game.

We were alarmed when we saw that they pictured a hispanic man in the starting lineups for Ous. This was actually the second night we were there, but I had set the games to DVR at home in case we wouldn't be able to see them in KC. I took a picture of the absurdity on our tv at home.

Here it is!

That is definitely not Ous!

Anyway, so I texted Ous that night and asked him when he turned into a Latino man. He called me after that game quite confused! I explained, and we thought it was hilarious.

When we were contemplating what to do that last night, over drinks, we had decided that we were going to stay in again, at first. Seeing the way that Lers mixes drinks, we determined that we needed more alcohol. So we bought a couple bottles of wine from the Apothecary, and a corkscrew.

Then, we had a change of heart. Decided to go out. And decided that we'd go to one of the nicer places on the other side of the link. But, we were hammered, as I mentioned in the explanation of the picture of the labeling.

Fortunately for us, we ran into one of Lers' professors en route, and spent time with her in the elevator, hammered. Bru-tality.

Then we got to the restaurant. Hammered. Ordered a bottle of wine to share.... Just what we needed! That'd make three, in addition to the remnants of the captain we had just downed.

The waiter was something else. I guess we were, too.

He asked us if we were high!

We drank more.

Ate lots of bread, which came in round loafs. We wanted another. We asked the waiter for a shenanigan of bread.

Yes, a unit of bread is also known as a shenanigan.

We were reminiscing about all kinds of things. We called Meams. She was afraid for KC with us on the loose, since she had known that we had been asked to leave the dog store, and other interesting parts of our trip.

We wanted to text Zak Attack and ask him if he had a small map of this place, in the style of "Staff" from the camping trip (yeah, I know, I keep saying I am going to blog that). Since at that time, I didn't have his number, I instead texted a completely different Zac, and asked him instead. He was very confused, whilst Lers and I were very amused.

We ended up immensely enjoying our meal, going home, and going to bed. We got up and went to our conferences, and came home, mostly without incidence.

One thing, though, that we noticed both during the trip, as well as waiting in the airport to leave, was that KC has completely brutal news! It's obscene! There were babies kidnapped, elderly people beaten in an atm vestibule (yes, I thought of the Friends episode with Jill Goodacre), weird stores catching on fire.... All types of heinosity!

I was pretty sure that armegeddon was taking place, but clearly we're safe. Phew!

All in all, amazing trip. We even brought back chocolately treats, cat cards, wine (yeah, we didn't drink three bottles in one night) and I got my three rings that I usually wear on my right hand. Great trip!

Mom, this blog was for you and Clarence. Thought you could use a laugh. Love you!

In Memoriam: Gene Frenkle 1950-2000

Two blogs two days in a row?! Wowsers.

I am kinda in a rush to catch up, because there are potentially blog-worthy things in the near future, such as a Badger game, Halloween, and my mom coming up to Milwaukee to go out.

Anyway, there were, first of all, a couple things in last night's blog that I left out.

One is that I have a shoot coming up on Sunday, and am curious as to if anyone has any amazing ideas for me. Send me some links or pictures or ideas, please!

Second is that I don't really know what to be for Halloween. Hook a sista up with one of those ideas, too!

Thirdly... In yesterday's blog, I put an asterisk by a couple comments.
Well, I absent-mindedly forgot to explain the asterisks. Asteri? How in hell does one pluralize such a word?

Anyway, what I said was that my hand was cold, or that my hand was freezing.

Lemme splain.

So we were out one night in Madison with this chick we know. She is a friend to some of us. I think she's tolerable, but probably wouldn't elect to spend too much time with her.

Anyway, we all got our first drinks at the same time, and were standing in the bar, holding them, and talking.

Well, all ol' girl could think of to say was to complain about how cold her hand was.
Excuse me?
We have all been holding the same drink for the same amount of time. Switch f'ing hands or something! No one cares how cold your hand is! Shut up, or you'll be complaining about how much your face hurts when I break it because you're being so lame!

Anyway, we later were discussing how absurd the whole situation was. In time, it became something to say when we just didn't really have anything else to say, and wanted to laugh (at someone else's expense).

THEN it became a way to complain or express discontent in general. An example being in yesterday's blog when I said that my lack of a successful cheeseburger search made my hand cold.

LL and I frequently ask eachother how our days are by asking about the temperature of eachother's hand.

Also, we've begun to refer to some people (and things) as gloves. Gloves are things that make our hands warm. People that make us happy. There are a few people that come to my mind that are always making my hand warm.

To the gloves in my life (and you know who you are, or at least I hope you do!): I love you, and thank you!

By the way, I think I would kill a man (and then bury him in the desert, haha) for an Orv's supreme pizza right now. Just sayin'!

So.... Today's blog should've been out months ago.

Sometime this summer, (I believe that it was the weekend before the Racine Wedding that was about the Hampton's of the Midwest), I was informed that Del was going to be getting married, and that my presence would be honored at the reception.

Del. Del went to highschool with my mom. He was a paratrooper, and now he's an enforcer for the Highriders.

The High Riders are a "motorcycle club." An enforcer basically beats the shit out of people, I think.

I used to babysit for Del and his first wife's child, Jake.

It was time for Jake and I to have a reunion. I'm pretty sure that he's 18 now.

I decided that Danielle would be the perfect date to such an event. Don't you agree? Of all people, who would feel the least comfortable in this environment?

D and I arrive at the reception, which, of course, is at a biker bar outside of Racine. As we roll up, we see HUNDREDS of Harleys in lines. Think of the scene from PeeWee's big adventure where he goes to the biker bar, and multiply that by about 20.

Now, I have some weird disorder. I'm sure it's in the DSM. I've seen that thing, and it is about as thick as ever.

Anyway, here's my issue. I think that every biker on the planet is somehow friends with or affiliated with my mom and stepdad. As it turns out, this is not the case.

As we walked up, some biker dude approached us and started talking. Basically hitting on us. I asked him if he could help me find Vanessa and Marv, assuming he knew them, and he said he didn't know them, but that he'd help us find them. No thanks, kind sir with the fingerless leather gloves and bandana. I'll be able to find them just fine.

So I was able to find a few people we knew, and then came upon Marv, who gave me a hug (hope this doesn't ruin his tough guy street cred - haha). Shortly thereafter, my mom showed up. Apparently, she was off taking jello shots. This was due to the fact that someone had made sure that there were hundreds (yes, that's right, hundreds) of these treats available at the reception.

Shortly after my greeting with my mother, she offered to buy me a drink. You see, tap beer was free, but mixed drinks you had to pay for.

I ordered a Captain and diet. As I watched the bartender pour my drink, I pretty much handed my keys over to Danielle. It was just about the strongest drink I had ever seen in my life. And, in true Racine county fashion, it cost my mom about fourteen cents. Gotta love that!

So soon after, I was reunited with little Jake. I decided that it would only be appropriate for us to do a shot together, and everyone else around was in. Tequila, of course!



On the far left, we have Jake, the kid I used to babysit. Yeah, he looks like someone I could keep in line, right? Next up, in the purple shirt and black leather vest, is Marv. Then you see a hand holding a shot, with a leather jacket on. Then me, then my mom.

That hand... That's Joey Marcott. He's one of those people who always goes by his first and last name, at least as long as my mom (which translated quickly to my mom, Danielle, and I) are concerned.

He took a serious liking to Danielle. He talked her up quite a bit, and even picked her up numerous times. Boy oh boy, Danielle hates being picked up!

But goodness gracious, don't they look cute together? Match made in heaven!

Danielle looks incredibly comfortable, doesn't she?

Anyway, after hanging out with Joey Marcott for awhile, we decided to adjourn outdoors for awhile. It was outside that we encountered a man who claimed to go by the name Napoleon. Once again, my little biker connaissance disorder was in full effect. I thought this absurd man, who claimed to be studying gynecology, was a friend of my mom's. I was just talkin' away, and letting him get away with some heinous ass comments, thinking that if he is my mom's friend, that gives him a little license to get so familiar with us. I also thought that, being my mom's friend, I should've been nice to him.

Turns out, once again, no. This man was not one of my mom's friends. He was just a man who stepped across the line, habitually. He was a habitual line-stepper.

He also claimed to be some kind of photographer. He had a very cheesey camera, and thought he was some kind of professional. Bru-tal.

So we freed ourselves of Napoleon and went back inside.

One thing that was amazing about this particular reception was the live music. It was performed by one of my mom and Marv's favorite groups (and coincidentally, the winner of the Best of Racine award given by the Journal Times), Mean Jake. They are a blues band. In hanging out and doing Jello Shots earlier, I happened to notice that the lead singer (whose name is not Jake, but rather Doug or something like that) was playing the cowbell from time to time. It was at this point that I expressed interest to my mom in playing the cowbell. I am sure that most of you know that my inspiration came from the Saturday Night Live video. I'll try to embed the video into the blog, but in the even that that doesn't work, try THIS LINK!

Will'>http://myspacetv.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=7811298">Will Ferrel-SNL Blue Oyster Cult and more cowbell
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Anyway, of course my mom has the hookup on making this dream come true. So she tells Doug, or Roger, or whatever about my desire to play cowbell. And of course, for whatever reason, he is ready for me to join the band.

Here's a picture of the lead singer of Mean Jake and I, discussing our future collaboration!

And here it's going down....

Look at how amazing we look? Clearly, I am a natural. And let me tell you, I was a hit!

Now it may look like Marv is just some tough guy that walks around scaring people or something, but in a strange turn of events, Marv is a dancing machine.

He has a dance move that he has invented himself called "the Merv."

This involves putting your arms to your sides with them bent at right angles and moving them up and down with your forearms parallel to your body.

It's hard to resist doing the Merv, especailly when Merv itself is doing the dance of his namesake.

Here's a family Merv performance for your viewing pleasure....
Don't we look like we're having fun? It's because we are. ;-)

You can only do the Merv for so long before you get a little parched.

While Bruce Dickinson (the cock of the walk!) has a fever, and the only cure is more cowbell,

we had a thirst, and the only cure was more jello shots.

As you can see, my BFF from Mean Jake had to join us. And the guy with the froggy shirt? He is Greg Mastos. And he was more dedicated to the Jello Shot cause than can be described in mere words. And this man showed his dedication by bringing ONE OF the coolers full of Jello Shots over to the table at which we were seated, so that we might be able to indulge in said shots without having to move very far. Saweet!
I apparently decided at this point that it was time to take a picture of one of the cutest couples ever, my mom and marv. These two are awesome together. Best friends. Hard to believe that such "rough and tumble" individuals can be so cute, but it's true. Damn. I'm ruining Marv's tough guy image and street cred again, aren't I?

What I meant to say is that he is NOT a teddy bear. He is more like a ravenous scary bear. Yeah. I am scared of Marv. Yep. Sca-ry.
Anyway, if you thought that my disorder of thinking that my mom and Marv are friends to all bikers was not healed yet. We'll see if that biz-nass ever goes away.

So at some point during the night, we met Shawn, another man that I thought was friends with my mom, but actually did not know her. Yet. Don't worry, I'll introduce ya.

When you picture a biker, just randomly, off the top of your head, Shawn is exactly who pops in your mind, I'll bet.

I've met more bikers than an average person has met, I'd bet (ha, that rhymes!), and when I picture a generic biker, Shawn is what comes to mind.

I mean "generic" in the nicest way possible.

I believe that what I told Shawn was "quintessential." And when I say that, I mean it.

Of course, for the blog, I had to take a picture with the quintessential biker. Here we are! Pretty much looks like a picture of me and most of the guys I am attracted to, except for he's pretty much the opposite. Haha.

Another part of the reason that I posed with Shawn on his bike was to make Danielle feel more comfortable doing the same. I figured she could send this picture home and tell her parents she had a new boyfriend or something.

What's funny about that is that my mom would be pumped to see me with such a man, whilst Danielle's parents would probably have several heart attacks between the two of them. Holla!

Here's the cute couple! Man, Danielle was just some sort of Biker Playette that night!

Also notable about Shawn is that he had one of the coolest necklaces I had ever seen. It had a bunch of skulls on it. I tried to get him to give me such a necklace, but he wouldn't he said that he'd give a different one, that was a little too small, to my Mom and Marv the next day, as he was planning on coming to look at Baby, which is Marv's old bike (I am pretty sure it's a 1977 Shovelhead, whatever that means), which Marv is looking to perhaps sell. I still lack a necklace. Now Shawn, if you're out there, I am still waiting for my necklace, damn it!

One thing about my mom and Marv is that they are not really night owls. I am pretty sure that we were hitting the 9 or 10 o'clock hour, which pretty much meant it was time to turn into a pumpkin. AND! I was already hammered.

On the drive back to the Mil, whilst Danielle was propped up on blankets so she could see over the steering wheel (LL, you are probably familiar with this move, as you have to do it daily), my cousin called. She was out in Milwaukee for Summer Soulstice with her husband and college roommate.
So we decided to meet up with them at Mo's Irish Pub on Wisconsin Ave. after an attempt at hitting up the North Ave bars (before we were even serious regulars!).
Christine's husband, Adam, was a delight, as usual.

One special thing about both Mo's Irish pub locations, as I learned only this past Friday, is that they are complete with a library. You know, just in case you feel the need to do some leisurely reading. I can't count the number of times I've been out and really just sat there wishing I had a wide selection of books to read. Adam must've felt this way, too, and he was in luck!

Then we ladies decided to take a group shot. Aren't we lovely? Look at our earth tones. So coordinated. I can't wait to hang out with Christine again! It has been far too long. Remember when I lost my purse? Left it in Jo-Cat's? I blogged that. That was the last time. Damn!

Christine, by the way, is the one in the picture that is right next to me, who is not Danielle. Gorgeous! Danielle, too, but you are used to her. And Christine's roommate is also very pretty.... Oh man. Haha.

Then, of course, we had to get a group pic of all five of us. I have no idea why Adam felt the need to be the shortest person in the picture, but I am ok with it, as it adds interest to the picture - haha. Lovely!

As for the rest of the night, I wish I could say more. I am pretty sure that I drunk dialed and texted a lot of people. I seem to remember Broseph being one of them. Wouldn't be shocked if Ous was on that list, too. Poor Ous!

Another great night. And two blogs in two days. Maybe it'll be a streak! How many days does one have to blog in a row to make a streak?

Ok, time to finish this glass of Cabernet Sauvignon (my favorite kind of wine) and hit the hey.

Hope you enjoyed!

Seriously, who crashes a bridal shower?

I had been craving a cheeseburger for awhile. Not just any cheeseburger, but Kewpee's cheeseburgers. They are the best in the world. Literally. It's science.

My good friends Mara and LL had mentioned that they had never really experienced Racine, my hometown. I couldn't believe it. I figured that they should really experience such a place, and that they should definitely at least leave with a good taste in their mouths.... Well.... I tried.

Mara had a Saturday off, so she came down from Madison to Milwaukee. After getting lost in many of the most absurd of ways, she finally made it to our house, and we made the short trip from the Mil to Raycilla, Wiscompton.

I'd like you to take a moment to check out "Welcome to Wisconsin" by the Raytown Hustlas - www.myspace.com/theraytownhustlas. It's also not a bad idea to catch the documentary "World's Best Prom" which actually is about my prom (www.worldsbestprom.com). I'm in it for about one tenth of a second, haha. Both of these masterpieces give you a good idea about Raytown, if the following story doesn't tell you enough.

Anyway.

So we go to Kewpees, and I get my usual. Two cheeseburgers, fries, and a rootbeer. The other girls order the same thing, but didn't realize that the cheeseburgers are normal-sized, and so they were in over their heads a bit. Oh well, turns out we'd need the good base anyway.

Then we decide to check out one of Racine's best parts - downtown. Main Street shopping, specifically. It was nice. A highlight included a cute new store called "Elegant Pauper" which included many items that had a map of Wisconsin, complete with a star on Racine and the phrase "Racine: The Hamptons of the Midwest," on them. That is so ironic and ridiculous, it's not even funny. Oh wait. It's actually hilarious.

I figured while I was in town, the girls should meet my mom. They'd been dying to anyway, and I thought it would really round out a great Racine experience.

I called my mom, and she was at a bridal shower. Darn.

Called her again later. She was still there.

"Why don't you guys just stop by?" she says.

"We aren't invited. We can't just crash a bridal shower!" says I.

"Sure you can. Here's the address."

So off we were, on for another adventure.

I told LL and Mara - "Why do I have a feeling that we won't even make it back to Milwaukee, and that we'll end up getting hammered at this little party?"

Called it. Well, almost.

So we get to the party, and it's a pretty standard Racine crowd, except for this absurd squirrel, who was in the bird feeder.





The party's theme was a luau. This reminded me of an absurd night spent in Madison during which a very drunk friend of mine went around asking people "Do you like luaus and shit?" and handing out flyers to someone who he didn't even know's party. That night, and that guy, are an entirely different story, however, and it is time to get to this luau.

In the picture below (from left to right), we have Mr. Turkowski, whose house was used for the party. Then next is JoJo, who used to babysit me as a child. In lime green, taking a drink, is Melissa, the bride-to-be. Next is Cheryl, who is pretty close to having the quote of the day for that day. I'll get to that in a second. And finally, we have Becky, who will also require more explanation.



So. Cheryl's quote. I was talking about a bizarre experience I had with a date who showed up to my house wearing mal-fitting clothes (among other bizarrities - yes, I am aware that I most likely made up that word there). Cheryl says, "Oh, his clothes don't fit? And he knows where you live? I'd move. People whose clothes don't fit usually end up being stalkers."

What?

The reason that would be a quote of the day is pretty clear, I think. Hilarious!

And Becky. She's quite the feisty one. I've known her since I was a small child. She's my aunt's best friend, and is more or less (more more than less) hysterical. This day was no exception.

So we get to the party, and immediately get lei'ed, and are handed tropical rubber duckies, as well as festive glasses with floral straws. I fill my glass with a margarita. I mean really, when the choice is between something that has Tequila in it, and something that does not, is it really even a choice? Let's be serious about life for one second. The answer is no.

Mara and LL had some sort of Wap punch. I believe it involved Champagne, which would've been intriguing to me (I love Champagne), if it weren't for that whole Tequila thing, especially since it was right after my trip to Austin (which I still have to blog about.... Waiting for pictures from John to add to the story). Plus, I was driving, so there was a one-drink rule in effect for me!

Here's Mara, caught by surprise on the left, and LL on the right, enjoying the festivities.




And because I'm nice (although not nice enough, apparently, to not post the caught by surprise one), I did a re-do on the picture for Mara's sake. And here it is!




You may be wondering, "How is it that Cheryl didn't win the quote of the day hands down with that absurdity?"

Well, it's because my mom just may have taken the cake.

Because I have no attention span and can't sit still oftentimes, I kept squeezing my rubber ducky, which caused him to squeak.

Kim, the mother of the bride, said "I didn't know that the duckies squeaked."

It was time for my mom to dole out her motherly wisdom. Here's the bomb she dropped....

"Yeah, he squeaks until you fill him up with alcohol and suck his butt!"

Whaaaaat? Really?

Hilarious.

I was later to be admonished for misquoting her as talking about sucking ass. Not yelled at for saying ass, but just for misrepresenting the situation. Obviously.

Here is another shot of the party.... My aunt Laura is the redhead on the left. Next is the daughter of the people whose house the luau was at. Then there's Mom, looking festive indeed.





The luau started to die down, so we decided that it was time to take the part elsewhere, but not before I got invited to the wedding. Did we go to Milwaukee right away as planned? No, we most certainly did not.

I had always wanted to go to a bar on South Memorial Drive called "Cash Money's." Why? Because it is called "Cash Money's" and that is pure comedy, to me.

Why haven't I gone? Because it is on S. Memorial Drive. My mom won't go with me, and she is pretty bad ass, as is my stepdad, who won't go either. But who is the most bad ass of them all? Apparently, Becky is. She said she'd go, and my mom said that she'd go if Becky went, and Auntie Laura's always up for a good time, so let's do it!

But first, it's time to let Trixie, Becky's dog, out. So we go over to her house and let the dog out. In the meantime, Becky takes us to her basement, and offers us anything we want from her bar. "It's just like college," she says, "You're in a musty basement with a bar."

It is at this point that it is clear that Becky did not go to college. Her bar had bottles such as grey goose and Stoli. There was no Ron Diaz, or even Admiral Nelson. There was no Fleishmann's or Buen Amigo. Silly Becky, your liquor is far superior to a basement in most college houses! So I had a Grey Goose Pear and water (it was just ok, nothing I'd get to have at home or anything. Apparently I am not a fan of pear-flavored beverages).

So we move on. Onward and upward? Certainly not.

On the way to Cash Money's, I decide it would be humorous to put on the cowboy hat I obtained during my trip to Texas. It was a gift from the photographer that I worked with whilst there.

Apparently, I was the only person that thought this was funny. No one said anything. I thought it was equivalent to me wearing one of those viking hats with the horns on it, but.... Wrong again. When I asked about it later, I was told it looked cute. This baffles me, but so do a lot of things in life, so I've kinda stopped asking questions at times.

Also, for the record, I am wearing a tuxedo tank top (as you may notice). I'm wearing this because it says, "I want to be formal, but I'm here to party." Cool points go to those who get the reference. And, in retrospect, it seems like perfect attire for someone to wear to crash a bridal party luau.

We get to Cash Money's and the door is locked. Brutal. Well, what can we do? We decide to take a picture in front. So Becky takes my camera and takes this picture. Obviously, the sign was the focal point.




Then she moves in a bit closer, so that we are more visible.... My mom is probably saying something hilarious.




Then Becky comes back, and we start talking about how unfortunate it is that there isn't some hooker nearby that we could give a couple bucks to to take a picture with all of us in it, and that we'd chase her down and beat her ass if she tried to steal my camera, when as if from nowhere, a man with very disgusting teeth appeared as if from nowhere.

He was sweeping the sidewalk behind Cash Money's. I have no idea why.

We asked him to take a picture for us, and he did.




What confuses me here is that this man is sweeping the sidewalk, and not shooting for the cover of National Geographic or Vanity Fair. His skills are.... evident?

He informs us that Cash Money's does not open until 7pm. It was almost 6:30. Hell no we are not waiting around to go to Cash Money's. I am sure that I will have another opportunity. The nice man tells us that if we come back, he will take care of us.

I am sure you will, kind sir, I am sure you will.

Next stop? Hi-O Headquarters. This is where I basically grew up. My mom worked here for like 12 years or something.

One special treat that we enjoyed whilst at Hi-O was Broadway Bake's World Famous Pizza. What? You've never heard of it before?

Weird!




See the sign below? My mom made it like.... 20 years ago, or something crazy like that.

Here's LL and Mara, below, with their first Shorties. I did not partake, because I do not like beer. I had one Captain and Diet, and then several waters.

I wish I could say that a whole bunch of crazy stuff happened at Hi-O, but it didn't. Being in that place is an indescribable experience. I can't really do it justice with words.

My mom and I played some songs on the jukebox, and I sang my heart out while getting my ass kicked at darts. I am very inconsistent, and it just wasn't my night.

Before departure to move on back to Milwaukee, I needed a picture with my mom and aunt....

Ooops. My ridiculous hat was now blocking my aunt's eye. Re-do!

Much better. Thank goodness for my trademark head-tilt!

Notice that my lei has now become a tutu. Hotness!

Next stop was wing stop. That was funny because all three of us really had to go to the bathroom, and none of us wanted to do so at Hi-O (for good reason), so the first thing we did was hit the bathroom.

The man running the place asked us if we were alright and if we were going to eat there. Haha, as though we would just use the bathroom in a restaurant and then leave? Heinous!

Then we got our wings. They weren't terrible. Apparently, they are Troy Aikman's favorite. I think the quote on the packaging and such there was "These are the best wings I've ever had in my life - Troy Aikman." Ridiculous. And, for the record, they don't even hold a candle to the wings at the Brodeo.

We ate our wings, then decided that we were too tired and not feeling the whole idea of getting dressed up and going to such places as Hi-Hat (where I now work!) and so on, so we just went as we were to Murphy's. Always an experience. We were exhausted, so we had one long island each, played a couple games of photo hunt, and a couple games of darts.

People were commenting annoyingly about my hat (compliments, but given by drunken douchebags. Brutal.), and we were just way too tired, so we called it a night. Home before 1am!

I swear, Raycilla, Wiscompton really just sucks the life right out of you!

The Holiday Party

So today, same bizarre student who talked about the vultures "pooping to stay cool" had another mind-blowing question and statement for me.

"What if a tree broke through that window and grabbed one of your students?"

And her statement?

"If trees attacked and killed people who tried to cut them down, there would probably be a lot less things made of wood. I bet most things would be made of metal. There would probably be a lot less paper, too."

Enough of that. Just thought you'd like to read that, since I've gotten a few e-mails about her and her absurdities.

Ah, yes. Finally, it's that time. Time to write about our holiday party!

Since this year, by the grace of our dear Lord, we have an amazing apartment, Danielle and I thought that we would take advantage of such... advantages, and throw a holiday party.

We wanted to maximize attendees, and we have friends of many faiths (Christian, Atheist, Jewish, Muslim, etc), so we decided that it was going to be simply a Holiday Party, and that it would take place a couple weeks after the real holidays. Christmas, New Year's, Hannukah, Kwanzaa, whatever! And as our invitation boasted, it was also birthdays for people such as Jodie Sweetin, Edgard Allen Poe, Buzz Aldrin, Marlon Wayans, George Burns, and Dolly Parton. We weren't even aware at the time that January 9th (when the party started) was "Play God Day," and January 10th (when the party ended) was "Peculiar People Day." But that alone seems like reason to celebrate, to me!

So we invited about 65 of our closest friends. 25 showed up. It was still glorious! I think it actually worked out pretty perfectly. Among the attendees were LL and J-Mizzle, who are shown below being adorable, as usual, and incredibly festive and resourceful, having wrapped themselves in our lights (which were, for the record, a birthday present from my awesome roommate Danielle, and were taken off of our legendary party cart, which will get its own blog entry some day soon!).



Other attendees include a few notable members of Danielle's grad school group. What a fun looking group, eh? They exceeded my expectations!



At the beginning of the party, it was just like any other party. There was champagne, vodka and mixers, the Captain and mixers, and many snacks. It should also be noted that thanks to Matty D, Sailor Jerry even made an appearance. That man kicks the Captain's ass. Mine too, at times!

What made this party unique was what happened after all of the guests had arrived. We declared in our invitation that it was a white elephant party. For those of you unfamiliar with the concept, everyone brings an unwanted gift (or, since all of my friends and family are spectacular at gift selection, in my case, I just went around my room and gathered random things that I did not want anymore), wraps it up in an enticing and visually appealing fashion, and puts it togehter. Then everyone draws a number. The best number to get is #1, and the worst number to get is #2. The #1 person selects any gift he/she wants from the pile. #2 has the option to either steal #1's gift, or select a new one. #3 can either steal #1 or #2's gift, or take a new one, and so on. That may seem like #1 is screwed, but not so, my friend! After all of the gifts have been opened, #1 can steal anyones. #2 is left with whatever, just like everyone else.

Lucky me! I was #2. Brut brut!

And of course, the Prince was #1. Since I know him, and have played games with him before, I am tempted to say he somehow cheated or rigged it, but since I was the one holding the cup and the one who wrote the numbers, I know for a fact that this is not the case!

Here's a picture of everyone sitting around the pile of presents!




To the Prince, apparently bigger is better, so he selected the largest gift present (haha, pun definitely intended), which turned out to be a giant completed puzzle, in an elaborate frame. Danielle, Nicole, Cari, and my cousin's husband, Adam, seem to be pretty amused by the selection!

My selection is next. I am convinced that this was the best present there. Unfortunately, it is no longer mine. But there is no way that I could've prepared for what was inside that cute little gift bag...

Is the anticipation building? Look at me with my gift and our matching smiles. Too bad our time together would be so limited. I guess that is just a part of being #2 at a white elephant gift exchange.

That's right. A stuffed crocodile head. Can't go wrong with that! Good call, Matty D, on bringing what may have been the best gift of the night... There's pretty serious competition for that title, though, as you will see. Let it be noted that Matty D brought both Sailor Jerry AND a stuffed crocodile head. We really should be inviting Matty D to more parties!

And below. A bottle of Boone's farm. How pumped is Erin? Can't go wrong with alcohol, right?

Oh boy. If you look below, you'll see Meams, and part of her gift, which was a half-eaten box of bizzarre flavored chocolates from our Christmas package that D's parents send us every year, and a slinky. But for Meams, the best is definitely yet to come!

Check out that shirt! As Ben Stiller's character from Happy Gilmore would say, "That's some handmade quality shit!" That's right. It's a bright yellow teddy bear t-shirt complete with lace trim on the bottom, which Kelly clearly can't resist. But who could blame her? Word on the street is that all of Meam's gifts brought hours of fun to their household, which does not surprise me, especially since those two and their guests often = a fun household!

Next, it was Ousmane's turn to select his gift. Good thing Nicole was there to steer him in the right direction - she told him that her gift was the best, and he should pick it. And Ous listened. I don't blame him, I was very intrigued by what Nicole's silly ass could have brought as well! But I don't know if Ous could have selected a more absurd gift... Well... On second thought...

Here's a shot that Mara took (Mara took all of the pictures! Thanks, Mara!) of Ous when he is halfway through the unveiling of his present.

No, your eyes are not deceiving you. Ousmane's lucky ass opened a mystery gift and ended up with a huge pink rose... And by huge, I mean about 3.5 feet tall. Seems proportionate for a 6'10" guy, right?

Immediately after opening it, Ous walked right over to me and gave me the flower. How cute is that? I don't think he could get that thing out of his hands fast enough. I am starting to feel sorry for the guy. How many times do you think I will put him in a situation where he is...

1. The only person over 6'3".

2. The only black person.

3. The only sober person.

? I mean, the second time we hung out, I made him play catch phrase with a bunch of drunk white people he didn't know (and Jamil). Yes, Catchphrase. An f'ing word game. It's cool, because I am sure that that's an easy game when English is your 4th language! Ous, you're a trooper.

Here's a picture of him and I discussing the flower, which I gave back to him (I just couldn't accept it at that time, and it really was just too funny to watch him carry it around!).

Next up is Mark, one of Danielle's friends from grad school. A misunderstanding in how the game is played made him risk losing his puzzle (it was he who brought it, and his friend Chris saved it by stealing it later from the Prince! How exciting!), and made him end up with one of the most "interesting" gifts of the night...

(Picture removed to protect the innocent!)

Yes, in his hands is the Penthouse Pleasure Pack, or something like that. A vibrator, and a mask, and what looks like a spatula or something. I don't know what's pleasurable about scraping paint from a wall, or filling nail holes with drywall compound, but maybe I'll ask Mark about it later. On second thought, I just don't want to know.

Apparently my directions and explanation of "White Elephant" weren't very clear... In one of the quotes of the night, Andrew said

"We didn't really know what 'White Elephant' meant, so we just went to the adult store."

Bravo, Andrew, Bravo!

The other quote of the night, in my opinion, has a bit of back story.

On NYE, at Zak and AY's house, ACGilman was pretty hammered. Upon meeting Ous (yes, another situation like this, where I am sure Ous felt absurdly uncomfortable), AC tried to recruit Ous to play on his rec basketball team. Told him that they needed a center, and that he was pretty sure Ous would start. Also told him that he planned to bet money on the games that Ous played in. Good call, AC.

Then when I took AC and Lers to sit in the family section at a Marquette Basketball game, AC was very interested in getting an Ousmane Barro jersey, and other such things.

So the day of the party, Lers and I were emailing back and forth, and I had asked Lers how AC was going to handle himself with Ous being there that night, and so on. Lers told me when they walked into the party that she had given AC sedatives, and that he should be fine.

When we were moving from one room to another, AC noticed something that was apparently incredibly exciting to him, because he pointed at Ousmane's feet and shouted "We have the same shoes!"

In complete deadpan voice, Lers looks at me and says "His sedatives are wearing off."

That was probably too long of a story for a quote that you probably "had to be there" for for it to be funny, but oh well. Thanks for being a trooper.

And keep on truckin'!

I don't really know what's going on in this picture, but I think it's a cute one of Nicole and Cari, who I think look like small children. Awwww! Haha.

It wasn't long before the boys and their trip to the porn store struck again... Here's Zak Attack opening a wonderful gift of vibrating nipple clamps. Silly!

As I mentioned before, I didn't really follow the advice of giving an unwanted gift. Instead, I decided to rummage around my room and find different things from there to give away. Jamie has no idea what is coming to her, but here she is just after she lifted the gift I gave from the pile.

And below, you can see just how pumped she is to have received the following:

1. A dvd copy of "Willard" - which is that Crispin Glover (Marty McFly, in case the name isn't familiar) movie where he has all of the pet rats and whatnot.

2. A VHS copy of "Boys Don't Cry" - which is that Hilary Swank movie where she's a transvestite or transexual or something. I saw it after I bought it, and immediately regretted the Blockbuster pre-viewed purchase!

3. Expired pepper spray.

4. Approximately 200 business cards for "Rice Photography" with my picture on the front. A photographer that I (obviously) had previously worked with (and, for the record, enjoyed working with) gave me a ton of them, and I really didn't know what to do with them until a few days before the party. Now the big stack is off my desk!

Check out Jamie cheesing with her gift! Do you think she could look more pumped?

After Tyler stole my croc head, it was time to select another gift. I decided to think smart. I perused the gift pile and settled on a package that looked an awful lot like a bottle wrapped up. I was right. It was indeed. My glorious gift was a bottle of Dr. Beckermann. I am sure that I don't need to tell you this, as it is definitely common knowledge, but few men are known for their 8.5% alcohol bottles of wine like Dr. Beckermann! I was pumped. Unfortunately, it is not likely that I will enjoy the taste of Dr. Beckermann's product anytime soon. Sucks to be #2! But here are "the doctor" and I, enjoying our brief moment of glory.

Did I mention that it sucks to be #2? If not, let me just say it one more time. It sucks to be #2. The Prince's last gift he ended up with was a leather Kenneth Cole wallet. Apparently, this is not pleasing to the Prince, or at least it is not as pleasing as the fine taste of Dr. Beckermann. He stole my bottle of wine, and I got stuck with the wallet. I guess I can't complain too much, though, because I will probably get a couple dollars for it at least when I sell it on eBay.

Another reason I can't complain is because I actually ended up with two gifts.

Remember the giant flower? It remains at my apartment. After repeated attempts to give me the giant rose, I made Ousmane tell me that he wasn't giving me the flower just because he didn't want it anymore, but because it was a representation of all of the positive feelings that he has in his heart for me. He agreed, and then told me that his heart was now empty (because of all of the feelings being transferred to the flower). I then told him that I would sleep with it every night (fabrication), and we took a picture with the rose to commemorate it. He continuously un-tags it on facebook. Lame! But the picture's cute, though!

See? Told ya!

After that point, the night gets a little hazy. Apparently, I chest-bumped Ross.

And I took some pictures with Tyler (probably as some sort of gesture of peace, and no hard feelings from him stealing my croc head), which I look too heinous in to even post.

Then I remember taking Ous upstairs to give him a French grammar book and show him how to use it (which took a minute) and showing him an article on Dakar that one of my students gave me, which led to a serious discussion about Léopold Sedar Senghor, the first president of Senegal, and an issue with cookies... Then out the door. When I finally got back downstairs, half of my friends had left.

Then we packed things up, cleaned up, and went to bed, whilst Andrew, Tyler, and Ross enjoyed Brother's on Water St.

What a night!