Happy birthday, Mom! (Luggage return and wifebeater bar crawl)

Happy birthday, Mom! For your birthday, I promised you a blog, and a night out on the town (which I am sure will also be blog-worthy), so here goes!

So a little bit ago, I got my luggage back. I couldn't have been more excited. I came home and there was a post-it from UPS saying my package was in the office.

So, I went down there, and the propert manager was in the office talking to a couple prospective tennants. She gave me my luggage, which was packaged in a giant "Staples" box, and mentioned something about how she knew I had been looking forward to receiving it.

She then asked me if it was school supplies that were in the giant box.

I sheepishly told her that it was not school supplies.

She then asked me what it was, and I gave her the cliff's notes version of my story.... That I had too much to drink while in Vegas and left my luggage in a cab.The prospective tennants just started cracking up.The property manager, who is about 55 years old, exclaimed, "Amanda! I would never expect that from you!"All I could think was.... Do you not watch the security videos of me coming home at 4:00 almost every morning in my "going out" clothes?I just said, "Well, you gotta cut loose sometime, I guess!"To which she replied, "But you're a school teacher!"This is when the prospective tennants almost fell out of their chairs. I just kinda stood there, with my luggage in my arms.She then said, "At least it happened somewhere where your students weren't around to see it!"INDEED!I just said something like, "I didn't know that 'what happens in vegas stays in vegas' applied to my luggage, but I guess I was wrong!" She said something about how now I have something else to think about when I see those commercials. Indeed I do!
So later that day, I called my mom to tell her that my luggage had made its way back home to me. During this conversation, she informed me that the girl who lives across the street is in jail again.Apparently, she got her 4th DUI. She is 24 years old.I was in shock, although I shouldn't have been, as this is Racine we are talking about. We joked about Confucious saying something like "Fool me once, shame on you, fool me four times and I am too stupid to be allowed to live."I asked my mom, "What, is the 'learning' part of her brain not functioning anymore?"To which she responded, "That part's still drunk! It's still in Vegas! It went on a weekend bender and hasn't returned yet!"Oh, Mom. I am glad to see that I will not soon be living this one down!It's actually ok, though, as I am kinda proud of myself. And, to be honest, the experience has been worth way more than the $25 it cost me to ship my luggage back home in conversation value alone! Yeah, it sucked to be wearing my reject makeup and not have access to my flat iron and curling irons, but hey.... No harm, no foul. I am just pumped that I was able to function highly enough to get on my plane. Plus, I've learned my lesson: always travel with someone who is going to be sober enough to make sure you keep your shit together. Haha.

So soon after was the wifebeater bar crawl, and I was brave enough to wear my infamous "I heart Patron" beater. Turns out, I did a lot of shots (mostly because of repeatedly winning some dice game that I still don't understand at all), none of which were Pat Ron. Old Uncle Pat Ron must've been hung over. Anyway, here are a few pictures from the day!

The morning of, I was incredibly tired. I didn't sleep at home, which meant that I was quite the tired girl! Plus, I was a little hung over.... Who goes out and gets hammered the night before she knows she has a bar crawl at 1130 am? I do!

The first stop was McGillycuddy's. Here's a shot of LL and I there.... We've both taken better pictures, haha....

And here is a shot of LL and one of our friends, Khary....

We were still pretty much struggling at McGillycuddy's. We didn't even have a single drink.

So the next stop was Fat Daddy's, where we were supposed to play beanbags and/or volleyball. I was still not moving fast enough to be so active, but we did do jello shots (which you can see Khary below trying to snort), and have some drinks. We also took a cute picture with Troy and Khary on my and LL's laps.

So then he upgraded the straw, so as to possibly get more jello shot in his nose....

And the cute lap picture.....

Then LL and I decided to ask Henry to take a picture of us. Once we handed him the camera, he immediately took a picture of himself. For your viewing pleasure....

Here's the first picture of us, sportin' our stunna shades, because the sun was too much for our strugglin' ass eyes....

Hen, our lovely art director for this photo shoot, decided that we would show more emotion if we took off our sunglasses. He was right, and here's the evidence!

The next stop was MJ's which was just a tiny place. I had just started to feel a little bit of the effects of alcohol, as right before we left Fat Daddy's, Troy and I pounded our drinks, as usual, after he said, "Bottoms!" That has now become the way that we finish all our drinks, by the way.... That was mostly from one night in which Troy, LL, and I drank about 25-30 martinis in about two or three hours, and pounded them because of Troy saying, "Bottoms" all the time.

It was here that we met Marcus, who we now call "Alleged Marcus."

The reason we call him such a name is because when we met, he tried to give us some line about how he works at the middle bar at Decibel. Excuse me? There is no way that that is true. We go there all the time. We would've seen you. Let's be serious about life. Anyway, here are pictures of Alleged Marcus taking some gross shots and hangin' with Hen....

Since the bar crawl, we've seen Marcus a few times at Decibel, at the same side of the bar as us, though. He is adamant about his employment there. He always asks the people around him to verify that he works there. We tell him that we're sorry, but we do not believe the credibility of whoever he's asked, even if it is an owner.

He has also gone so far as to show us a business card. I then replied that we do not believe that Marcus is even his name. I told him that I have a business card from Decibel, too, and that my name is Dustin. He says I am a little light-skinned and blonde for Dustin. Agree to disagree, Alleged Marcus, agree to disagree.

Another humorous conversation was when Marcus asked us why he doesn't get kicked out at bar time. He couldn't even make it through that sentence without laughing, as he knew that we rarely get kicked out at bartime!

Anyway.... We played "flippy cup" or "boat races" for a bit at MJ's. Tristan had set up games at each bar.... LL and I, who both hate beer, played with mixed drinks. That was obviously a genius call. Hen also alternated between the two for the different rounds. He is not good at slamming beverages, and thus dumped the majority of his drink down the front of his face. Hilarious.

LL and I then changed games, and turned (of course) to Photo Hunt. Holla! It was during this time that we began chatting with a fellow bar crawler (or is it bar crawlee), who I maintain looks like Jason Kidd. You can verify such things below.

Next stop was VI Degrees. This was brutal for several reasons. The first is that every time we go to VI Degrees, which is every Thursday night for a brief stop, we drink a Randy Watson. Randy is actually seriously high on the list of why we go there.... It's that, and to support our friend Fred, who spins there that night and sometimes plays my song for me.

Randy Watson, as you hopefully know, is a character from one of my all-time favorite movies, Coming to America. He's the guy who performs at the Black Awareness Rally. You may know him as "Joe the Policeman" from the "What's Going Down?" episode of "That's My Momma." That boy good! I believe the children are our future.....

Anyway, our new friend Randy is actually a chocolate martini. This is the most brilliant name for a drink I have ever heard of, as Randy Watson from Coming to America was the frontman for the band "Sexual Chocolate."

Obviously, what anyone who is on hours seven and eight of a bar crawl needs is a couple damn martinis. Especially someone who is as talented as I am at the art of sipping. Lawd.

Put that hand-in-hand with the aforementioned dice game, and you have the recipe for disaster.

I still don't understand this damn game. I think I helped someone (a master of photo hunt who works at Vitucci's.... Best photo hunt player I've ever seen. RIDICULOUS!) win this game last night. I blew on his dice. Got lots of high fives.

Anyway, the day of the bar crawl, I didn't get as many high fives so much as shots. I should've stuck to high fives, because VI degrees is where my ass fell apart. Here are some pictures from there.... The first is of Tristan and I. Boy, do I look sober!

Yep yep, that is definitely my sober face! I am all biz!

Next up is LL with "Eric" aka Jason Kidd. I also threw in a picture of the real Jason Kidd (will the real J Kidd please stand up?) for a point of comparison, so you can see just how much these two men look alike. I mean, really.

I mean, not the best picture of "Eric" I don't think, but you can definitely see a resemblance, right?

Anyway, VI Degrees was a bit of a struggle for LL as well, as she ended up leaving her phone there. When we got to the final bar, a special trip had to be made all the way back to VI Degrees to retrieve her phone. Perhaps, however, she shouldn't have been allowed to use her phone at this point, because she was sending some pretty absurdly ridiculous and heinous texts.

What is also amusing about her leaving her phone at VI Degrees is that merely one week before, she left her phone on the stoop at Bayou after my birthday party. Pull your life together, LL!

"Mandie, I got your girl's phone here at Bayou."

"Mandie, your girl's phone is at Bayou."

Haha.

In stereo with a cute little delay.

Anyway, LL was not the only one who caused a special trip. When we were leaving VI Degrees, I had decided that I needed a cheeseburger or two, and that I needed it immediately. The appetizer specials that were to be at the final bar were simply not going to cut it.

So yes, the entire school bus went to McDonald's. But at this point, I had hit a wall. I was going to sleep, and that was all there was to it. So I did. On the bus. I sent friends into McDonald's for what I affectionately refer to as the McDelicious. This is a McLers (two cheeseburger meal) + a crispy ranch snack wrap.

Problem was, I was too tired to eat when my food came to me on the bus, so I was pretty much laying there with a cheeseburger in my hand, and another one plus the snackwrap laying on my body. It was a classy sight to behold, and was only made classier by my attire, I tell you!

When we got to the fifth and final bar, the Lodge, I wasn't havin' it. So, I took a nap in Tristan's car. LL and J Kidd kept me company. Then LL's sweet roommate came and picked LL and I up. At some point, Tristan's car alarm was going off while I was in it, and I was not very quick to realize that I was the one with the power to make it stop, since his keys were in my hand. Brut brut!

Then Joee (LL's roommate) picked us up, and took us to her old roommate's house. I don't recall why. At this time, J Kidd texted me to see why I had left him. I told him that he had left me. When he tried to argue, my response was "Erroneous! Erroneous!"

Obviously.

Ended up going back to LL's and cuddling with her for awhile. That was quite nice, especially since she didn't have her damn heated mattress pad on.... That thing is absurd. I slept over there once when Ray Ray was in town, and the thing was on high. In my infinite (drunken) wisdom, I didn't think to ask LL to turn it off. She seemed pleased by it. Instead, I tried to roll over as much as I possibly could. When one side of my body was fully cooked, I rolled over. I also tried laying on the edges of the bed so as to not be on the hot spots. I was, however, wiggling around like "a little strip of bacon."

Now LL calls me her little strip of bacon. Isn't that cute? Love it.

Finally made it home, and was in bed before midnight.

That was a long ass day!

Anyway, happy birthday, Mom! Finally 47! I hope you enjoyed the blog.

I read your email. Can't believe grandma said the F word! I freaked out when she said "ass" a couple times in my life. What I also can't believe was that you called me to tell me that she said the F word, and implied that if/when I checked my email about such things, I would understand more.... But then I get the email, and all it says is what you told me on the phone! No story or anything! You are going to have to elaborate. I mean, is it like when Danielle said it, quoting her uncle, and it apparently doesn't count? Or did she say it legitimately? I just gotta know! I'll be watching my email like a hawk.... Or perhaps like a vulture watches its prey! Haha....

Love you!

Thanks everyone for reading. Hope you enjoyed! There should be a new one soon! (I know, I know... I say such things all the damn time.)

Pride and Prejudice

I want to begin this blog by apologizing. My mom brought it to my attention that I have not blogged since JUNE 5TH! Oh my goodness! I am just flattered that people are missing them (and I am aware that using the word "people" and meaning my mom, who is one of my biggest fans, is a little liberal, but oh well. Deal!). Anyway, worry not.... The lack of blogs has not been due to lack of material. In fact, it has been quite the opposite. I have been so busy with random absurdity and things to add to the "what in hell" files, that I truly have a list that is well into the double-digits of things to blog.

Anyway, here we go!

So this blog, like many of mine, is a combination. I am actually going to cover three different events. And I'm sorry, but the title is a little misleading, in that I am going to begin with the prejudice and end with the pride, because I want to end on a positive note.

Also, another apology.... I am aware that my last blog wasn't funny.... This one most likely won't be either, for the most part. The next several probably will be, though! So just sit tight.... Now that I have no job of which to speak, I have more time to blog. So make room in your schedule to read these bad boys - I am told they take upwards of fifteen minutes! Brut swoop!

Alright.... So this first part (unless you count all of the aopologies and random babbling above as the first part, which would technically make this the second part) is a bit of a rant.

Which reminds me, if you haven't yet, go and buy the book "Rant" by Chuck Palahniuk, or check it out of the library, or something. Read his other books, too. He's one of my favorites, especially "Invisible Monsters."

Wow, holy tangent.

Anyway, so the other weekend (last weekend, to be exact), Danielle and I went out, or rather she met me out after/in conjunction with Lers' going away party (she's in Peru for 6 weeks and I miss her intensely already!). And, as always, after such events, I was hungry (I always am). So, she and I went to Michael's, which is a 24-hour diner by our house.

As we are eating, some weirdo comes and sits next to me and tells me that I am "as cute as a Chinese baby." That's absurd. And, to top it off, he reminds both Danielle and I of the guy who talks on the Kanye cd about his degrees. But I was so crabby and sick of getting hit on, that I didn't even really look at him. I also didn't pay attention to him when he snatched my phone off the counter (I had been doing some texting - shocking) and called himself with it, so as to ascertain my number. Brut. Shortly thereafter, some other guy came up and gave me his number, and for some reason, I was convinced that he was the same guy who said I was as cute as a Chinese baby.... I truly hadn't looked at either of them. But then the first guy called while the second one was standing there, which really confused me, until Danielle informed me that they were separate people. I guess I was incredibly focused on my grilled cheese sandwich, which shouldn't shock anyone who knows me. I love cheese!

Anyway, after all of this absurdity, Danielle and I depart Michael's and begin the treacherous walk to her car, which is parked around the corner. These are not the parts of Milwaukee that two not-so-large girls should be walking around in the middle of the night, let me tell you!

Shortly into our jaunt to her car, a man appears and asks what time it is. Since my cell is in my hand (as usual), I tell him that it is three thirty am. Then, as if from nowhere, a woman whom I am assuming is his girlfriend appears and angrily asks what we said to him. I inform her that we just told him what time it was, and she was incredulous. She starts yelling at me, and I am just in shock, but he kinda calms her down, and she goes away. As D and I are continuing our journey, I remark that that was bizarre, and we get in D's car (ha, that rhymes!).

Shortly thereafter, this chick pulls up right next to D's car, blocking us so that we can't get out of the parking spot, and starts asking again what was said to her man. I tell her again, "We just told him what time it is."

Now, in my head, I am thinking, "Is this woman serious? This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever experienced in my life. What is she so mad about? We don't want her damn man...."

And at this point, he is pretty much holding her back, whilst she is leaning across the interior of her car, to drive her point home or something.

Well, my thoughts must've been written on my face, because she tells me not to look at her all stupid. Well, ma'am, don't be a ridiculous stupid person, and I won't look at you that way!

Anyway, she just starts flipping out and telling me not to speak to her, but it is ok for Danielle to speak to her. And of course, since I'm lippy and in shock, I tell her that she has no business telling me when I can't and can't speak, and then she snaps and says a bunch of unintelligible angry nonsense and drives off.

How annoying? Is she serious about life? Seems so, but it also seems like she sucks at it....

And speaking of sucking at life, that brings me to the second portion of ranting part of the story... This is a bit more recent.... Saturday night. Danielle and I decide to go to Can's and have a couple cocktails. Afterward, we decide to go to Murphy's, because we agree that playing some photohunt would be money at that point. We get our drinks (from Buddha, by the way, who was in a fashion show with me) and go over to the photo hunt machine.

Now, if you've been to Murphy's (which most of my readers, I am assuming, actually haven't), you know that the set-up (and most other things about this place) leaves a bit to be desired. The individuals and small groups playing Photo Hunt, such as Danielle and myself on Saturday, can be, at times, in the way of individuals trying to make certain shots whilst playing pool.

Well, at the beginning of this Photo Hunt session, I apparently was in the way of a "gentleman" who was playing pool. He said "excuse me" to me, and I moved over a little bit. The amount that I moved over is usually enough to get out of the way of such individuals, as I have learned from my literal years of experience of photo hunt in Murph's. Evidently, this time, it was not.

I must admit, I was not giving this man my full attention. In fact, I was being quite the multi-tasker - playing photo hunt, socializing with Danielle, enjoying a vanilla vodka and Sprite, and sending Ous a text. I was unaware that I did not move sufficiently out of his way. Had this man simply stated, "hey, could you please get out of my way," there would have been no problem.

Apparently, though, that is not his style. His style, as it seems, is to be a huge douchebag and scream at me. I don't even remember what he started out with, but I do remember that the first words I said to him were, "Are you serious?"

Yes, he was. And not only was he serious, but he was incredibly angry.

Someone special to me uses the phrase "angry in my pants." I think this man was angry everywhere. But I KNOW that he was angry AT my pants. The next time he was near me, he rubbed his backside against mine, in a club-like dancing sort of way. I turned around and gave him an annoyed "What are you doing?" look, and he called me a few names, including (but not limited to) a whore. Really, not-so-kind Sir? A whore? You can rate the level of my promiscuity by the fact that I did not get out of your way amply? Brut.

Let me explain my pants..... Those of you know me, probably already know what pants I am talking about. They are my favorite pants, and I wear them once every couple weeks in the summer.... They are abercrombie kids pants that I bleached like crazy and basically destroyed. They've since been destroyed even more just from being worn and washed, but they look like they've been through some things.... And I guess that's because now they have! But I don't care what anyone says.... These pants are hot. (I know, some of you hate them. Oh well, you don't have to wear them!)

Anyway, he puts his fingers in one of the holes on the back (pretty close to my "bottom") and tells me to get some real pants.

At this point, I am still unclear as to what he's upset about, so I ask Danielle. She explains that she thinks that I wasn't all the way out of his way. This is what he is so mad about?

Then he's over by us again to take another shot, and he puts his pool stick between my legs and kinda hits it against my inner thigh. I turn around and say, "What is your deal?"

And he starts yelling at me.... Says something like, "Oh, you're so hot, I want to marry you. blah blah blah something something, you blonde bitch!"

I pretty much told him to get a life.

He just kept on! He was gesturing and just generally being ridiculous, and it was putting me on edge. Every time anyone walked past, I was kinda freaking out. I decided to tell Buddha what happened, so he could keep an eye on me, so that is what I did.

Two weekends in a row? It made me not want to go out anymore. How is it that I can go out in Madison or Chicago and not have anything happen, but in my own stupid neighborhood, it's a big ass struggle? Bru-tality. I miss Madison. I hate Milwaukee.

So that's my rant. I guess I titled it "Prejudice" because of the blonde bitch comment. I don't know if this guy thinks all blondes are conceited and self-centered, or bitchy, or what, but it was super lame.

I'd like to think I am a nice girl, and that I am considerate and nice to anyone who shows me the same respect, but evidently I give off a different sort of vibe?

What do y'all think? Any advice?

Alright, time for the pride.

A couple weeks ago, my "little" sister graduated 8th grade. I don't recall it being a huge deal when I did such things, but apparently now it is a huge thing to celebrate, and people go all out for it. Who knew?

Anyway, I am soooo proud of her....

At the beginning of the ceremony, she played a flute solo.... Here are a couple pictures (sorry that they are not superb):

Then, they did some sort of processional thing. Each 8th grade boy had an 8th grade girl (or, in a couple cases, two - PIMPS!!) to walk in with. Here's my "little" sis and her escort! Isn't she beautiful?

So I am sitting there, and they give out these awards for like.... "Excellent Boy" and "Excellent Girl," and I am kinda disappointed that my sister, Danielle, didn't win.

But then they start talking about this other award, this Humanitarian award, and I start thinking that this one would be a better one for her to win anyway. It seems more distinctive, and like it takes more to earn it (who doesn't love a humanitarian?). Also, she gets a medal, and a plaque that stays in the school with her name on it.

I just gave it away with my pronouns, but my sister won! I was so proud of her! I almost cried.... I don't know how I kept the tears in the whole time, but I managed!

Here's a shot of her getting the medal put on her neck.

Then they did a slideshow and some speeches, which of course made me emotional. I was just straight up an emotional girl that day.

Especially, because in the slideshow, they had baby pictures, and I clearly remembered when I first saw Danielle in the hospital, or how before I went to bed every night when I slept at my dad's house that my parents would lay her in bed with me for a little bit. She was so tiny, and I remember every day of her life!

Then, I just started thinking about how in only four years, she will be graduating high school and going off to college. How weird is that? I still, for some reason, kinda consider myself college-aged. Hopefully by the time she's in college, I will be a bit more over that, but it will be weird for she and I, who have always felt like 2 separate generations, will be truly peers? I just can't imagine her being so grown up. Damn, I can't even imagine myself being all that grown up!

Anyway, here's a picture of Danielle shaking hands as she crosses the stage.

Alright, here we are.... Both of us are wearing heels, but mine is higher. She's 14 years old and 5'8". Yes, I am intensely jealous. But I am also so proud! She is so beautiful, smart, and talented.... So down-to-earth, and caring and compassionate! I could go on forever, but I'll spare you the big sister bragging and gushing. I just literally so proud.

And here's the whole group.... On the left, we have my dad, then my stepmom, then Danielle, then me. Front row has my brothers Dylan and Lukas, also from left to right. They are adorable, and I love them to death as well. In fact, just tonight I confessed that if one of them were to rob a bank, I would apparently not turn them in to the police.

And here it is again, but vertical....

So there's the pride!

Ok, a little more pride.... Thanks to you, I made it to phase 2 of the Smashbox Model Search Competition. YAY! Thanks so mcuh! I really appreciate all of your help!!!

This phase is over in a week, so that means that is how much longer you have to keep voting for me!

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