So all Tuesday I was sad because a wonderful man who was only 39 years old passed away. Stupid cancer and heart attacks didn’t get him, but the complications from the blood marrow transplant finally did. All day images of his two young toddlers would pop into my head. If it wasn’t that, I found myself imagining his young wife, trying to raise those boys alone. Thankfully I was busy at the office so that I could stay distracted.
Aunt Tinkle Tom Tom invited me over for dinner. She had met Patrick and knew how wonderful he was so she figured a little wine and food with family would be better than me being home with my dogs. Yay for thoughtful family!
A marinated London broil, some broccoli, some wine…yep, it was working. But cousin Sarah was very uncomfortable. Little Donnie (also might be known as Jordan Quinn) isn’t due until Christmas day, yet contractions and other things I am not even going to describe caused some concern. A quick phone call to the doctor brought about the suggestion to go to the doctor in order to ensure the baby is ok and all.
I’ve never had a baby, won’t be having a baby ever, so Sarah’s including me on sonograms and doctor appointments has been very cool. We managed to beat the hockey game traffic and get to the hospital in no time. They don’t play around over at the Women’s hospital, which meant that we were whisked into an exam room quickly. I stayed through the entire thing. Ouch. Just…ouch.
Anyhow, I just wanted to say how proud I am of my beautiful young cousin. She listened to her body and did the right thing by going in for an uncomfortable check up, her first internal exam, even when “we” (ok, we equals her mom) sort of gave her grief about sucking it up. Sarah is really doing well with this whole pregnancy and I am thrilled to be a part of it.
Gonna miss her when her husband returns from Iraq and she moves to the military base out of state in the spring. For now, I’m gonna enjoy her company as much as possible!
Love you, pretty lady!
(remember this picture? hehe)
Free club level seats are hard to come by. Yay for Cinderella’s parents getting an invite to fancy schmancy box seats, thereby freeing up their tickets. They were kind enough to give us their excellent tickets. Awesome doesn’t even touch how incredible their gift was.
We barely tailgated before the game. Not sure why, but we didn’t meet up until noon. Fucking forty bucks to park, but we had a great location for the four hours that we had. Plenty of fun folks around to play with. Like Mike, the cool dude from Ohio who parked behind us.
And of course the girls I was there with were fantastic.
Here are our MySpace photos…
You might notice that in the last picture Cinderella has her Steelers logo tattoo on upside down. Her ear brassier is also upside down. And she was still sober. hehe. Eventually she fixed it. You may feel free to make fun of her anyhow. She likes it.
While we were tailgating the snow really started coming down. By the time we got into Heinz Field it was really flying. Wish I would have thought to take a picture of the cute guy that I was making out with in line, but when I saw a shorter line open up I bolted into the stadium.
When we got to our seats, there were a few really nice people around us. Made Cinderella get in a picture with the kind guys to my left.
Watching the Stillers struggle for the win was rough, but we enjoyed every minute.
Halftime took us inside the club for more booze. And we met a few boys.
Guys who were as friendly as we were.
We were even friendly to Steely McBeam, our new mascot. A much hated mascot.
When my drunk ass finally got home, I decided that I simply HAD to take photos of snow. The barely left remnants hanging on the tree in my front yard. Hot neighbor came out and asked what I was doing. When I happily hollered, “Taking pictures of snow!” he laughed that deep gorgeous laugh of his and asked if I had been drinking at the game. Love that guy.
Anyhow, for some reason I thought Hilly and Britt might appreciate that I thought of them while enjoying the beauty of the frozen white stuff. See? Here is the little tree in the front of my house.
And, ummm, a bunch of leaves. Shut up, it made sense at the time.
Besides, my Steelers won so I can post pictures of anything I want, right?
WARNING. DRUNK GIRL TYPING. 
What is it with me and strange men? Sheesh. Last week I was in Charleston for a trade show when I got to drinking on a Tuesday with my Fabio. Sweet tea infused vodka is a beautiful thing. Just a glass of ice, a squeeze of a little lemon, and the vodka. Yum. Problem is everyone else is drinking mixed drinks and I was sort of going drink for drink. Eventually I was drunk. And had to pee.
Beside the door for the restrooms just so happened to be a few video games. There were three guys playing what I remember as that golf game with the roller ball. As I was walking past I thought, “MMMmmm! I want to grab that ass!” The tall, attractive guy turned around and said, “Well, why don’t you?”
Woops. Seems my thoughts we actually spoken. Heh. Of course since I got encouragement I went for it, both hands grabbing handfuls of a fantastic ass. Then I headed for the bathroom. On my way back out the guys called me over and we got to bullshitting. Turned out they were with the same trade show I was with. Yikes.
Fortunately they all appreciated my intoxicated self and didn’t hold my ass grabbin behavior against me. The next day on the show floor they even came over to discuss business. Me thinks that our companies are quite compatible. From our conversations, it seems that we’ll have a long and profitable business relationship. All because I had to grab a beautiful butt.
Man, that story is MUCH better in person. Loses something in print. Sorry.
Then there was the little incident before the Steelers game. I had started drinking bourbon and ginger ale in the parking lot. Several hours of that and I was a very happy and warm girl. Standing in line to get into the game there was some really cute guy who reminded me a lot of Fabio. Except scruffier. Next thing I know, I am kissing him. Didn’t know his name. Still don’t. But he made standing in line MUCH more fun.
So back to important stuff. The Steelers won!! In the glorious snow. Drunk me had forgotten my jacket in the car, but somehow the snow wasn’t cold. If that makes sense. Imma blame the booze. Bourbon apparently warms the soul.
I have a bunch of pictures to post, but I am entirely too tired. Will do that for tomorrow’s post.
xoxo
I love when life is wonderful enough that it keeps me away from the internet, yet I hate it just as much. Honestly, I miss you guys. Strange that I can go a few days without talking to my regular “real life” friends and not miss the interaction as much as I miss talking with you computer friends. Wonder why that is.
Regardless, lots of fun things have and will continue to keep me from you. Like Friday after work a few of us went to Olive Garden to get happy (their happy hour is actually two hours, five to seven, and offers drinks at four bucks a pop). Love getting happy after work with this crew. They make me laugh so hard. Nothing like discussing porn, Brazilian wax jobs, masturbation, shaving techniques and various other interesting subjects entirely too loudly with hysterical people while in a chain restaurant’s bar.
Had to leave getting happy kind of early so that I could get home to take care of the dogs because there was no way I would be late for the new Bond flick. I enjoyed the movie, but felt a lot of the camera work was a little too much “THIS IS AN ACTION MOVIE” for me. People are running, people are fighting…I get it that it is action. No need to shake the camera and cut so quickly between views over and over again. Thankfully I has seen Casino Royale a kerjilloion times or I might not have understood all that happened in Quantum. Daniel Craig owns my heart as Bond so I am not sure if my view of the movie is tainted, but on the whole I was thrilled to be there and plan to see it again.
Saturday morning was up and in the yard with the dogs, plus a little reading. And a nap. The afternoon birthday party for my cousin’s 40th birthday party was terrific. It was great to see him and his family considering the last time was in January when I went to the DC area for his one daughter’s first birthday party.
After the party I came home to feed the dogs, then it was out to Benihana for sushi with two cousins and a friend. The damn bartenders are so sweet and cute that we never even sat at a table for real food, just watched the Pens take on the Sabres while boozing a bit.
Home now and on the computer for the first time in over 24 hours. Won’t be able to catch up on my blog reading tomorrow because I need to get up early so that I can tailgate in the snow before the Steelers take on San Diego. Game starts around 4 PM so at least I can sleep in until around 8 AM or so. I’m excited that the snow is expected to fly. Love football and snow.
ANYhow, I’ll be out of the house all day and when I return I will probably be more than slightly drunk so who knows if I will get around to all of the blogs that I have been desperately missing.
Damn, this is a shitton of words to say I love and miss you.
Gonna go to bed now.
xoxo
New Bond flick is out today. Don’t care how crappy the reviews are, I need to be there tonight. Love me some Bond.
I’m back from Charleston. Had a great time. Of course I miss my drinking buddies and my friends, but my liver is thankful to be back in the Burgh. My dogs are glad I am back as well.
Remind me to tell you about grabbing some stranger’s butt in a bar and how that turned out. hehe
For those who have blogs that I have ignored for over a week, I’ll be around this weekend. You are still loved. xoxo
Fabio stopped by to pick me up for the trade show this morning. He is a terrific friend, a really good man who I have had the pleasure of getting to know for quite some time now. When he walked into my hotel room I was fully dressed, but my hair was still up in a towel. I had stepped out of the bathroom to open the door, then immediately stepped back in so that I could continue to apply the mascara. It was easy to hear the rustle of fabric and the low growl of “Let’s get this on.”
My ears would never betray me in such a manner, so I picked my jaw up off the ground and stepped out to give Fabio an earful about how his comment could not possibly have been more inappropriate. There he was smiling as he unbuttoned his black Johnny Cash shirt, asking if I had my camera handy for his Half Nekkid Thursday guest post.
Whew!
(My Fabio made one hell of a fine HNT guest. Thanks, darlin. You know I love ya dearly.)
There were several other guys from the trade show who wanted to have their photo taken, but the opportunity never presented itself. Next show, guys. Next show.
So, for those of you who never cease to tire of my breasts, here is something you don’t see very often: my right breast.
Yes, I had no help with my photo so I don’t have the best camera angle. And yes, I took the photo here in my hotel room. No way this carpet would be in my house!
For more HNT fun, CLICK HERE to go over to read the comments where it all started.
This post is part of Miss Britt’s guest post challenge. Because she? Is a fucking moron. In other words, she wrote this.
Every aspiring writer has to have a favorite book. You can’t call yourself a literary anything if you don’t have a favorite author and title that you can drop at a moment’s notice.
I was 16 when I discovered mine.
Charles Dickens’ A Tale Of Two Cities
As I’ve gotten older and befriended smart, pompous assholes, I’ve become painfully aware of how cliche my choice is. And yet, no matter how many books I read, I always come back to the same tired old love story when someone asks me to pin down my favorite.
For those of you not familiar with the book, allow me to ruin the ending.
The guy dies.
But more than that, the guy dies on purpose so that the woman he loves can be with the man she loves. The man who is not, despite a shocking physical resemblance, him.
Boy meets girl. Boy loves girl. Boy sacrifices himself to the guillotine so that girl can spend the rest of her life with other boy. Ah, the romance!
Ironically, I hated this book for the first several chapters. The language is heavy and the imagery threatens to suffocate the storyline. I never have been able to fully wrap my head around the significance of the house of footprints. Or was it corner or whispers? Perhaps if I’d been forced to read it in an English class with a study guide and omnipotent teacher I’d be able to tell you what the author meant.
Instead, I sobbed into a library copy, alone in my bedroom with the injustice and selflessness. I was in awe of the idea that someone would literally die for you with no expectation of reward. I was certain there could be no purer display of love.
I wonder how many relationships I’ve fucked up because of that book.
Not, of course, that I’d ever ask a man to die for me. I’d just like to think that he would if the opportunity presented itself.
People tell each other all the time how much they love one another. They profess to care about one another’s happiness and vow to do whatever is necessary to ensure said happiness. But ultimately what they mean is “I want your happiness to the point that it doesn’t interfere with my own”.
And maybe that’s healthy. And normal. And the absolute best we can hope for.
In the real world, that has to be enough. In the real world we don’t sacrifice ourselves to guillotines or unhappiness. We strive for a compromise of mutual content. In the real world we talk about boundaries and realistic expectations.
But in Dickens’ world, we can ask for more.
Sunday I was sort of depresssed that the Steelers let me down. Sad. So very sad. The day itself was spectacular. It started with hte best breakfast I can remember was had in the most adorable restaurant here in the Charleston area, moved to the brand new store the coworker’s wife just opned (where I keep spending money and acquiring the coolest stuff!), then back here to the house, out to the convention center for a little work, back to the house to see the Steelers break my heart.
After the game one of my favorite guys from the show’s industry came over for dinner and entirely too many beers. It was great to see Fabio (remind me to tell you the story of his nickname sometime). The man is so funny and that tiny hint of southern accent is adorable. Mmmmmm. Don’t worry, he is an excellent firend and I was on good behavior. Stupid morals.
Althouggh I don’t even really like steak, dinner was lick my plate delicious and the Smithwick’s was cold. Damn, I love tasty beer! The fire got a tad outta hand, but was gorgeous (house and yard are safe. whew.). Wish I could tell you exactly what was so funny, but the storys run together and I am kinda not sober right now.
I was instructed, however, to inform the internet that beer cans and bottles will melt if left in a kick ass fire for a bit. Yes, I was the one who didn’t believe it. With my very own eyes I watched can aftercan disintegrate and bottle after bottle collapse. Entirely entertaining to our crowd.
Can you believe I have a camera here and did not take one fucking picture? I fucking sucketh.
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Ouch. I drank too many beers last night. Could use another six hours of sleep. But I gotta get to work. Dammit. Meetings on Monday mornings should be outlawed.
How about I had the most bizarre dream last night? Didn’t involve any of you guys the way the other dream did, but involved all of my ex boyfriends. ALL of them. Like even back from when I was in high school. Two more recent ones had the biggest roles in the dream. I was irate with one who raised money for a good cause, then decided to go on vacation with the funds. And I was all too not angry with the other.
Issues. I have issues.
Although there was no sex. So at least there’s that.
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Trade show starts today. I’ll be swamped for the next few days. Which means one thing…a guest post! The lovely and talented Miss Britt will be over here tomorrow. Yay, Britt! Thanks, sweetie!
Sleep deprivation had me exhausted (had to do laundry and pack for my trip…you don’t think I was prepared or anything, right?). Beer and great friends kept me up later than I should have been up. But eventually I settled in. Big, comfortable bed, perfect temperature house, low humidity. And beautiful slumber was mine.
Until you fuckers showed up in my dream. My BIZARRE dream.
A few “highlights”…
- my Aunt Kathy was wearing Faiqa’s costume from Halloween
- Delmer was a thief who tried to rob my aunt and pulled a knife on me before I kicked his ass
- Dawg was a county cop who arrested Delmer for theft and me for assault
- Poppy was a city cop who gave backup to Dawg
- Adam was president of the world
- Britt was a lawyer who successfully got my assault charges dropped
- Hilly was a princess
- Dave2 was a rockstar
- Turnbaby was on television, selling stuff on QVC
I don’t know where the rest of you were.
And I seriously have no clue why I enjoyed the handcuffs so much.
Sitting in the DC airport, waiting for my flight to Charleston. While I am obviously partial to my Pittsburgh airport, I am really liking this here in DC:
Looks like a fork about to kill an alien smiley face, but sure does make my Twitter phone happy.
Speaking of emotions, I almost died of embarrassment this morning when an Avitable condom flew out of my purse when I pulled out my ID to check my bag. Not just any condom, but a squishy one with a cartoon drawing. Not my proudest moment. Although laughing and taking a photo of it laying there probably didn’t make the reservations broad any more impressed with me.
ANYhow, I am headed to stay with a coworker and his awesome wife for a few days before the trade show starts. This is a fun, fun, fun show. Lots of great guys and I always have fun. Not necessarily stories that I can share with the internet, but at least you know when I get back to the Burgh I will be in a great mood.
Of course, if the Steelers can manage to pull out a win tomorrow against Indy I will walk on clouds all fucking week. wheeeeeeeeeeee!
More later. Probably with pictures.
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