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!

They can take away our Power, but they can't take away our party!

Alright, I gotta be honest. It was more dramatic when William Wallace said it about their lives and freedom, but my life is less dramatic than his as well. Or at least I try to keep it that way.... But that's neither here nor there!
Another confession - it is with a fair amount of shame and embarrassment that I write this blog. I just wanted to throw that out there. If you like it, take it, if not, send it right back!
Anyway....

Slightly less than a week ago, last Friday morning, (around 11ish) I was using the little ladies room (and was, for the record, very tired after shooting in Chicago all day the day before and not getting home until well after 230am) when suddenly the lights turned off, along with the air conditioning.

"Hmm, that's interesting!" I thought to myself!

I finished my business, if you will (and I know you will!), and went out to check out the scenario. Sho 'nuff, there was no power anywhere in the apartment. Being that I am an incredibly handy lady, I thought I'd take a gander at the circuit breaker. Nothing was amiss.

So I opened the door to the hallway. In a strange turn of events, the lights were on out there. I was so confused!

Next logical step was to call the blackout emergency number. You see, losing power at 11am may not seem like an emergency to you, but I had just gone grocery shopping, which I almost never do for some odd reason, and I was very concerned that there would be an issue with my food, so I wanted to get this heinosity resolved in quick fashion. Leave it to me to be focused on food first thing.

So I grabbed my cell phone and called the number. I would like to note here that at no point did I try to text the power company's emergency hotline - I had been teased a bit about my texting about a week before, and one of my best friends, Cari, said that if there was an emergency, that I would probably try to text 911. Bru-tality. But on second thought, maybe they should make that an available option, because what if you are in a situation where you want to notify the proper authorities, but you need to do it on the sly? What you are you supposed to do then? Y'all bastards who laugh at my texting would be sure glad to have me around then, wouldn't you? If we were out and I was able to alert the police that we were being held up at gunpoint by texting without the perps (that's right, the perps!) knowing the wiser, you'd be pretty thankful, wouldn't you? You may not think that's likely, but if that's the case, maybe you should hang around my neighborhood a little bit.

Anyway, back to the story.

So the lady answers the phone, and I explain the situation. She looks up my address and whatnot and informs me that we were scheduled for disconnection.

Whaaaaaaaaaat???

This could not be the case, and here's why.

First of all, several months ago, I signed up for payments to be taken out of my checking account automatically, so that I wouldn't have to worry myself with such nonsense.

Second of all, at no point did anyone try to call me to inform me that my bill hadn't been being paid. Surely, if I hadn't been paying my bill for so long that they were going to cut my power off, someone would call, right? Seems like an easy way to get your money.

Third of all, there was never a tag on our door. We live in an interesting building with lots of subsidized housing, which = lots of people who can't or don't think it's important to pay their bills. I have seen tags on their doorknobs threatening disconnection. I had never seen one on our doorknob.

I told the woman, very politely, that this was not even remotely a possibility, for the aforementioned reasons. She kindly told me that I would have to speak to the customer service department about it, and she gave me their phone number.

So of course, I called them.

And of course, I got some automated BS. After pressing the appropriate combination of keys that corresponded with my individual situation, I was informed by the voice on teh phone that the wait time to speak to a customer service representative was to be 29 to 41 minutes, and that if I would like, I could type in my phone number and say my name into the recorder, and I would receive a call back just before it was my turn.

Obviously, especially since I was on a cell phone, I gladly took this option. So then, after that, I talked to LL on the phone a bit, and she helped to calm me down a bit. I wasn't that upset, because I was sure my bills had been paid and that things would be resolved soon, but I was quite annoyed that my power was out and that I had to deal with all of these obscene heinosities.

A couple people called and texted. I was unfairly crabby to them, for which I apologized, but I was in no mood, especialyl since I thought that every time my phone rang that I would be speaking with someone who would be about ready to turn our power back on.

Finally, someone called. We discussed the siatuation, and she said that to solve the problem, she would have to take a gander at our records. To do that, she would need me to verify the phone number.

So, I told her my phone number, and she stopped me after the sixth digit. Apparently, she had a different sixth digit in her computer.

Well, that would explain why I hadn't received any "stop being a deadbeat or we're going to turn off your damn power" phonecalls.

I was furious. I tried to remain as calm as possible, though, as I was confident that I was going to have power soon and that this whole misunderstanding would be fixed.

She looked up the information, and apparently we hadn't paid in over six months. Whenever I had signed up online for the autopay, it hadn't worked. Fan-tastic!

I asked her the balance, and was going to pay all of it online. $798.31. Bru-tality, but I had it.

She informed me that her Payment Program for over the phone only took a max of $600, and that I could pay the rest in a separate transaction. This was fine with me, just let our power get put back on!

She tried it a couple times, and to no avail. The payment thing was down. Hmmm, this seems like a pattern to me. I am so mad that I am in tears. At this point, it is about 1142am. She tells me that another alternative would be for me to go to the Community Financial Center and pay the bill, but that the nearest one (which was 6 blocks away) would be closing at noon. She said that I could go right away at 8am when they opened, and then once the payment cleared she would set up a time for the workers to come out and turn our power back on. I wasn't havin' it.

I told her that I would be able to make it, if I hurried, since it was only 6 blocks away. She told me that if it didn't work, she would see if there were any alternative locations that would be open later that I would feel comfortable going to. I ignored the whole thing about feeling comfortable, because I was focused on getting stuff taken care of. She aske dme to call her after I had paid the bill to let her know that it went alright, and to set up the appointment for our power to get put back on. I told her that she should call me, because I wasn't trying to be on hold again for forty minutes. She agreed and said she would call me at 12:30 to maker sure all was well. I made sure that she knew my correct phone number, for obvious reasons.

So I sprinted out of there and down to this Community Financial place, which I was expecting to be a bank, or an office of the electric company. Turns out no. It's one of those payday loan store/check cashing places. Awesome. I felt totally comfortable there! And then, as I was sprinting in, a man asked me for money. If I had money, don't you think I'd be somewhere other than a check cashing place, kind sir? Brutality. The time is now 1155, which is five minutes before the place is closed.

I take out my debit card and being to ask the woman about paying my bill. She informs me that they only accept cash. WHAAAAAAT??????

I don't know why, but I didn't have $800 in my purse in cash. I mean, I normally have at least ten times that much, but apparently that day I was running low. Either that, or it was in one of my other purses. Anyway, so I asked the woman if there was an ATM there. Nope! But there was one across the street. Perfect. So I sprint out of there, and sure enough, that random man asks me for money again. I apologize, again, and run across the street to the ATM.

Of course, like many ATMs, there was a limit as to how much could be withdrawn. This one was $300. Brut. So I took that much out and then ran back across the street. It was 1158 when I was waiting for my receipt to print.

I went in and paid $300 of my bill. There was a $1 fee to do such a thing which was lame, but at least I could do it. I had also already paid a fee at the ATM which was lame, but unavoidable in this situation.

On my way out of the check cashing place, the man talked to me again, this time to tell me that I have a nice body and should keep on running. I was so annoyed. Could he not see that I was basically crying the whole time?! Brutality.

So I went back home to my dark aparntment. I forgot to mention that in the meantime, I had texted Danielle to call me when she got the chance. I didn't knoiw when she was going to get home, but I thought she should know what was going on. The first time I was at the payment window, she called, but I couldn't answer because I was taking care of business. Whilst I was finally paying the bill, she texted and asked if I knew why we did not have power. I wrote back that yes I did and that I would explain in a second when I got home.

D gets nervous at times about things, so I was kinda nervous myself to tell her that due in part to my irresponsibility, we were without power. Surprisingly, she was very understanding about it, but she did have to leave for work, which she then did.

So I sat alone in the dark apartment and waited again for th epower people to call me back.

When they did, I laid out the heinous tale for the about why I only paid $300, and how I was incredibly annoyed with the whole situation.

She told me that we should try the bill payment thing over the phone again to see what we could do, and sure enough, this time it worked, and I paid the rest of the balance.

She then informed me that it would not be that day that my power would be turned back on. She said that they almost never have openings for same day reconnects, and so I would have to make an appointment for Saturday. I was incredibly displeased by that, but was even more angry when she then told me that because these guys would have to be coming back on a Saturday, I would be charged an after-hours fee of $117. I had just given them $800, which I realize I owed anyway, and they wanted another $117? AND I had to wait overnight? No way.

She told me that because I was getting bills (I thought they were just statements - my cell phone company and the cable company send statements even though the bills are paid automatically, so I never opened them) that iwas not their fault, even though it was computer errors that caused the problem in the first place AND that made it impossible for them to get ahold of me. I was also upset because it was by sheer dumb misfortune that they shut our power off on a Friday instead of a Tuesday or something.

I told her to just set the apointment up, and that then I'd worry about the fee later, when her supervisor calls me (which was supposed to happen sometime during the weekend).

So the appointment was set up, for the convenient time window of between 8am and 8pm.

At this point, I called Danielle and asked her to bring home ice for us to put in oru refridgerator and freezer. I also had to go talk about the situation with the woman who works in the office at our building - the building manager. I also took this opportunity to charge my phone, which was dying. Let me say that it is quite humbling and somethign that makes you feel like a moron when you're in the rental office borrowing power to charge your phone!

Danielle came home with the ice, and some new flashlights for us. We were an amazing team as we divided the bags of ice into individual bags, and then organized it all quickly in the freezer and fridge. We used the available daylight to gather candles together, and for my to pack - I had a shoot the next day, as well as a trip with Nicole up to a friend's lakehouse. Then we deiceded that we'd go work out (during which I continued to charge my cell phone) and then go tanning, which we did (once my phone was charged, of course, haha). The fridge organization had us prioritize what would remain in the fridge, and what didn't need to stay anymore. One of the things that got evicted from the fridge was a bottle of Margarita Mix. So we decided that we were going to have margaritas (we always have triple sec and tequila around!). It was then that I came up for the title of this blog, which was my motto for the day, for sure!

While I finished working out (which was actually after tanning, now that I think about it!), Danielle showered and went to her office to do her hair. She gave me a nice trick on how to set up flashlights and candles so that you can see what you're washing (you never know when you might find a bruise or something - haha), which I used after the workout.

Once we were dressed, we went over to LL's new place. I did my makeup on the way. Once we were there, I did my hair, and Danielle did her makeup. Bless LL and her new roommate for letting us use their power!

Then the there of us set off for dinner, at Hotchado, which was very good.

Then D and I went home and had some margaritas.

Here are some photos of that event. The first one is an action shot of me making a margarita with a flashlight in ym hand to see what I was doing. The flash on teh camera made it incredibly bright, so this picture really isn't what it should be. It was WAY darker when the flash wasn't illuminating the room.

Since the flash had been so heinous, I tried to take a picture with it off. It is a much better representation of the situation that we had been in, although it does lack me and mixing the margaritas absurdly. Oh well. You will notice that I must've been receiving a text, since my phone is all lit up. Holla!

After each of us drank a margarita, we went upstairs to the 6th floor where our good friend Nate Dogg (you will read more about him when I get around to my Summerfest/Danielle's birthday blog) was celebrating his birthday.

That was absurd. Danielle had all of the sudden been feeling a wee bit drunk when we were home still, and didn't finish her margarita. So she decided to take it easy at Nate's, where she only had a beer. I let Nate, a young college student, mix my drink, which was raspberry smirnoff and white diet green tea. Yeah, I know it sounds nasty. Tastes just as good as it sounds, too!

So I started feeling a little squiffy, but nothing crazy. I did try to pay Nathan 45 cents or so to lick bbq sauce off a friend's chest, and also tried to find out whose chest was shaven, and talk people into shaving their chests to facilitate these absurdities, but it was not fruitful. And as Danielle says, which I agree with, that is something that I would do completely sober anyway. I mean, who wouldn't stand up in a crowded room of people she didn't know and yell "I need everyone's attention. Who all here shaves their chest?"

After some time there, we left, to go to Decibel, which is where it seems as though I am living these days. Man, I love that place, always a good time. There will be a blog about that in the future, as well, specifically about the Tuesday before this particular Friday. One of my friends that I have done a couple fashion shows with was there with a friend from out of town, so we met up with her.

After that, we went home to our apartment, which was lacking in power.

Somehow, we managed to get people to come hang out with us. The funny thing is, both of these individuals (Nate Dogg and a former MU BBall player that I had recently befriended, who everyone thought was terrifying) could've been at home, enjoying electricity. Nate's situation was even more silly, since he came downstairs from his power-having apartment to ours!

So we sat around in the daark for awhile, everyone returned to their homes (or me, since I was home, to my bed), and called it a night. I slept with a flashlight that night. It may or may not still be in my bed, since I only share my bed with Refugio these days, and neither of us takes up the whole queen-sized space! Anyway....

Woke up in the morning feeling pretty hung over... It was actually kinda brutal.

I got ready as best I could, and grabbed my stuff to go to my shoot. I ended up doing my makeup in the car, because the daylight was good.

Got to the shoot, adn that was kinda brutal. It was on a 60-ft yacht on Lake Michigan, and the waves were killer. I was feeling a little iffy, like in my blood donation story (mayhem!), but ended up being one of the only models that didn't vom! I was pretty impressed and proud of myself, since I had been so hung over!

Right after, I was able to talk to the power company and get the rate reduced on our fee, which I was quite pleased about!

Meanwhile, LL hung out in the dark ages and was able to let our electric dude in to turn on the power, which was much appreciated. Thanks, LL! You're awesome, and you know this!

I got a couple of my pictures back from that shoot today. They are shown below. I am pretty happy with myself! Holla!

Later, I will write about after the shoot, going up to the lake house with Nicole, and the Heinous Sunday night at Redlight the next day.... But that will take quite some time!


Alright, well I gotta leave to drive/ride to NYC tomorrow for the Lingerie Americas tradeshow. I am pumped. The drive will be long, though, so feel free to send me texts to keep me from getting too bored, or from missing you all too much!

Also, Mom, I told you that I would be emailing you with the information.... Today was a really stressful one for T, and she didn't have all the info immediately available. I'll call you sometime during the trip to let you know what's up, and you obviously can call me anytime.

Alright, NYC here I come! I love and miss all of you already. I apologize that I won't be blogging whilst in NYC, but I'm sure you understand! Hopefully I will have time to blog that and all the other ridiculous stuff I referenced when I get back.

Love and miss ya and wish you were coming with me! Holla!