Hi. You probably know me as hellohahanarf from my years of commenting around the world wide internetz, yet never having a blog. Well my friends, that has changed. Welcome to MY site.
You guys always praise my outlook, my disposition, whatever you want to call it…but you always say how positive and upbeat I am. Well I’m here to tell you what makes me cranky (like WAY cranky).
Heat.
I am so not a hot weather girl. My dream vacation is Alaska, not Hawaii. I love winter. Not once did you hear me complain about the snow drifts over four feet tall, never did I utter a negative word about the well below freezing temperatures. But today? When it is 81 degrees in my house at 10 PM? Entirely too fucking hot.
[Small interjection to say that I might blame the heat for pushing me over the edge when I went to comment on my friend Adam's blog the other day. I seriously lost my shit on the poor man. Sure, I feel passionately about the subject of water and recycling, but still, this not-a-rant-kind-of-girl *totally* went on a rant. Sorry about that. And I still love you, Adam! Especially when it isn't 80+ degrees!]
Normally I would crank my air conditioning down to 68 and be happy, but dammit, I refuse to turn on the air in early April. Especially since tomorrow is predicted to be a comfy 66 or so. Instead of turning on the whole house air conditioning I have three ceiling fans and two large box type fans going. And I came here to bitch.
Which just somehow reminded me of the other things that make me cranky: being hungry or being tired. And woooo, child, Lord help you if there is any combination of hot, tired and hungry! heehee
BUT…and here’s the thing…this post isn’t about me being hot (thankfully I am well rested and just had a fantastic dinner excursion). This post is about something that IS making me crazy happy: Coal Miner’s Granddaughter, Heather.
Friday morning I’ll head to the airport entirely too early and transfer planes in Charlotte so that I can arrive before 11 AM in Atlanta, GA. I have business there, but thankfully will have some down time on Friday to enjoy the company of one of the most interesting and amazing women I know. I’m thrilled. And willing to brave the Atlanta heat for the pleasure of Heather’s company. Best part? I won’t even notice the heat. THAT should tell you something about how incredible she is.
My Mom used to save all kinds of stuff to give to me when we would get together again. Maybe magazine articles, feathers she found, little items she picked up in her travels, etc. Didn’t matter what the pile contained, Mom called it her A Drive. When we would get together the first thing she had to do was “dump her a drive” and give me everything, telling me about each item. It usually drove me nuts because there was fun to be had and dammit she was slowing us down. Now? Wellllll, I miss it desperately. Which, of course, means that I am now picking up where she left off…prepare to be dumped upon…
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The other day the fantastic Heather (Coal Miner’s Granddaughter) wrote a post about breast milk cheese and cooking with breast milk. Human breast milk. I kind of surprised myself when I realized that I wasn’t all that grossed out at the concept. Not really grossed out at all, actually.
So while washing the dishes (I don’t have a dishwasher, I *am* the dishwasher) my mind started off on its own. That is usually a dangerous thing, but I tend to do some of my best thinking while doing dishes or showering. Maybe it is the water, maybe it’s the solitude with no tv or music. Ount know. Point is I started thinking of stuff that grosses me out. The highest on the list? Someone else using my toothbrush or me using theirs. BLECH! Even if I were on Survivor and the gorgeous Colby Donaldson offered to share I would have to turn him down. I’d rather use a branch and gnaw on that for a bit than share a toothbrush. Just can’t handle the idea. (Although Colby, if you are reading, I’d fuck you even without the toothbrush…call me.)
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I read about a guy who is going to be in the hospital for a long time and how his friends are trying to get him lots of mail. Immediately I grabbed a card and had coworkers sign it, addressed it and dropped it in the mail. Over the coming weeks I plan on sending this dude all kinds of silly stuff. You should consider it, too. Read about it HERE.
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On a totally different note, soon I will be on a plane to drink myself into a gutter for the HHD (High Holy Day = St. Patrick’s Day). My early AM flight will have me hearing the crack of dawn the morning of the 17th, but I plan to sleep the whole way to Alabama. The completely awesome Kim (from Live at the 205) will pick me up at the airport and then Birmingham should just look out because we might drink our faces off. The next day, once we find our faces, we shall drive south to Florida. I’m really looking forward to the getaway. She is truly an amazing woman and rumor has it other bloggers will also be joining us. Should be terrific. BUT, I’m not taking my laptop so who knows if I will be able to post. Sure, she is bringing hers, and it is a coveted Apple(!), but since I don’t know how to work it you might not hear from me for a few days.
Also, I can’t find my bathing suit so please send names of nude beaches.
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So, my friend Earl posted a video that cracked me up. Seems his friend made it. They want others to see and enjoy. So here ya go:
And if you have a blog, maybe consider posting it?
Last weekend I had the pleasure of spending time with Donnie Van Donnie’s family. Drove about five hours on Friday up to the middle of nowhere (across the PA line into the woods of New York). It was exactly what I needed…to do a whole lot of nothing.
Well, I did love on this little pup:
And I did go for a walk with two boys…one 10 and one five. A few paces from the house we found a shovel and apparently that is quite entertaining to those of the male persuasion. Also interesting? Their fascination with, and love of, a hatchet. Due to it being the first day of deer season in NY we couldn’t walk too terribly far, just around the pond and over to a line of pine trees, but it was still fun listening to those two talk and watching them work together to dig a hole. When I went back to the house to go get my camera they hid in the tress to scare me upon my return. Fortunately the dog gave them away or I would have had nightmares and had to beat the kids. Yes, I am totally a chickenshit and yes, everything shows up in my dreams.
Maybe it was the inevitable worm find that made digging the hole all worthwhile?
One of the guys (Amish Henry who went with us to a football game) shot a deer. It was the first time I watched a deer being skinned and beheaded. It didn’t disturb me like I thought it might. Actually, the whole process was quite educational and not gross. Maybe because Henry was quick and clean, I don’t know. All I know is that at one point Donnie stepped into the view of my camera to give me the shocker. Coz we are classy like that.
Donnie also has a sheep on his property that I was intrigued by. She was incredibly shy and would run if you looked at her too long so I couldn’t get close to get a decent photo, but she sure did eat a bunch of grass. Wonder if I could just borrow her long enough for her to get my grass manageable. Hmmmm.
I needed the getaway, but my two boys get sad when they see me packing. They are so pathetic when the realize I am preparing to go away. See? Pathetic:
(Yes, the previous owners put orange carpet in my bedroom. No, I haven’t done a damn thing about it. Hush!)
I have no musical talent. We are talking *none* as in we are lucky that I can play a radio. Seriously. And I am cool with that.
Anyhow, last Saturday Fab and Turn took me to the UK – Florida game. After a little tailgating in bed and a little tailgating in the parking lot we were walking towards the football stadium when we heard the band. Perhaps it is because I can’t even bang on me drum all day, but I get all excited for marching bands. Just as they arrived in our general vicinity I had pushed made my way to the very front and whipped out my camera. Instead of paying attention to the photos I was clicking off I just danced along to the tunes.
After I returned home from Kentucky I got all the photos downloaded and took a moment to check them out. This one made me laugh out loud:
Since I have never been in a marching band, can anyone tell me why they make the members wear those awful hats with chinstraps that don’t keep the fuckers on?
And also, why don’t folks just use their hands to adjust a strap gone wild? Not like he was banging on his drum all day.
I’m officially on my much anticipated and needed vacation. (Yay!)
Thursday morning I head to Lexington to stay with Turnbaby and Fabby until Sunday. Friday I am scheduled to head to the Maker’s Mark distillery in order to FINALLY buy bourbon from my barrel. (Squeee!) Saturday Turn scored fantastic tickets to the big football game (UK takes on Florida and we’ll be a few rows back in the end zone).
It will be a whirlwind, but worth it all. Hope I get some time to play catch up on my blog reading…my feed reader is outta hand these days!
Several years ago I was out of town…south and far away from home. A man I knew, adored and desired just so happened to be staying in the same hotel, a floor up on the other side of the hotel.
My room in the high rise property was fairly large and extremely comfortable. Walk into a hallway as you enter the room, large bathroom on the left, massive bedroom at the end of the little hallway. Standard hotel room. So was His room, except you walked into a hallway also, but His bathroom was on the right.
You know where this is going, right? Oh yes. Yes, it is.
A group of us went out drinking. I was trying my best not to drool over the finest man I know, so I drank with the boys. And did shots with the boys. Lots of shots. Lots of drinks. Drunk Becky was out in full force. We leave the bar and I somehow staggered my way back to the hotel. He didn’t realize I was as hammered as I was.
Things get a little fuzzy around this part. Somehow I managed to get myself invited up to His room. Kissing commenced. (Yay!) Clothing found itself in a pile. THINGS happened. For hours. Life was good. Eventually sleep called. Both of our exhausted selves crashed.
Until I had to pee. As gently as a drunk girl could, I eased out of His bed and crept to the bathroom. From what I remember I managed to find the pot, paper, sink, soap and towel in the dark (didn’t want to wake a hardworking man up…He needed his rest for the morning round!). I left the bathroom, took a left, stepped outside of the “bathroom” door and blinked in the bright light as I heard the room door lock behind me.
Yep. Instead of remembering I was in His room which was set up opposite of mine, instead of going right and back to the bedroom, I went left and found myself locked out of the hotel room. Naked. No cell phone. No room key. No nuttin. At who knows what time of the night / morning, there I am, stark naked in an incredibly bright hotel hallway.
Yikes.
Using my fingernails I tapped lightly on the door. No response. I tried knocking a bit, but was terrified that I would accidentally wake up someone else on the floor and have to explain my predicament. In my drunken haze I memorized His room number from the door and decided to brave the journey to the white courtesy phone near the elevators.
It took forever for the front desk to answer. When the nice lady answered I asked her to “Please transfer me call to room…ummmmm…fuck. Wait. I was just there. I am locked out. I need room ahhhhhhhhhhh? FUCK!”
Of course it was easy to give His name and get that straightened out, but how the hell could I have forgotten the room number during a short, albeit naked, walk to the elevator phone? Stupid shots of straight vodka. And who knows what else.
Anyhow, broad at the front desk tells me that the white courtesy phones won’t transfer to rooms and that I should come down to her desk in order to get a new room key. “No. Really. Just please try to transfer me to His room. I am kinda drunk and really can’t come down there now. No, I promise I don’t need anyone to come up here. JUST TRANSFER ME, PLEEEEEEEEEEEEASE.”
Two rings. Disconnect. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Sonofafuckingmotherlovenbitch, she was right and the call won’t transfer. Great. Just fucking great.
Deep inhale. Deep exhale. I can do this. Just call that broad back, tell her the issue, get on the elevator, walk quickly to the front desk, grab the key and get to my room. Breathe. Lift the white courtesy phone.
Wait. What is that noise? Fuck. Please don’t let that be a business man leaving for his morning meeting or early flight. Oh Fuck. Stay hidden behind the wall, lean my head out to see who it is. Just keep my body behind the wall and stick my head out.
SAVED! It was Him. Coming out of the room I had been in, trying to find out where I disappeared to. Yay! Honeslty, I don’t think I have ever been so happy to see anyone before. Pure joy!
I wrapped an arm around my boobs to keep them from swinging as I quickly made my way down the hall. He had the most adorable smile through His baffled expression as He watched me saunter down the ridiculously long hallway, cooter out for the world to see. I pushed past Him and rushed into His room. Guess I mentioned something about the fact that I shouldn’t have taken that left at Albuquerque. As I crawled into His bed He laughed and told me that He thought maybe I didn’t feel well so He gave me some extra time in the bathroom, but when I didn’t return He walked to the door without turning a light on and thought it was still closed. Because I didn’t answer His inquires He tried to knock on the bathroom door, but His hand went straight through. Quickly He realized I was gone and found Himself a tad hurt that I would leave without so much as a goodbye. It was right about then that His room phone rang once and hung up. Walking towards the phone He saw my pile of clothes on the floor. Two and two easily added up to a naked Becky in the hall so He threw on shorts to come find me.
To this day He still teases me about taking a stroll through the hall without so much as a stitch on. I swear it is just because He loves to remember the look on my face when I saw it was Him in the hall. (Fucker!)
Someone once said to me, “You make me like…high” and it was really cute and funny. When the mail arrived today I received an immediate rush from the poster tube that had the Maker’s Mark return address. I practically skipped into the house, flung open the sliding glass door so the pups could get some fresh air and green grass, then threw the mail on the picnic table and tore into what I thought might have been a belated birthday greeting from my favorite bourbon.
I was wrong.
It was so much better. This is what I received:
A letter and poster saying my barrel is just about done and will be bottled soon! Oh my fuck, I am, like, high. I’m gonna head out of town when the G20 Summit comes to town so I don’t have to deal with those fuckers, plus I can have all kinds of fun.
Oh yeah. AND I CAN BUY MAKER’S MARK BOURBON FROM *MY* BARREL! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
For quite some time I have practically abandoned this wonderful little place of mine…rarely posting and hardly ever replying to comments. So not like me. I truly love this site and adore the friends I have made as a direct result of blogging. Life hitting me like a tornado meant something had to give.
But I can now see that having Midnight Cliff and my reading of blogs being the main brunt of my life’s insanity was a mistake. You are good people. And my life is better because you are all in it.
Thanks to Turn and Fab for opening their home to us. The party was fantastic because of your hard work and the incredible people you gathered together.
OK. Clearly I lied seeing as how I am posting TWO WHOLE DAYS in a row. But I had a little time. So…whaaala…
As I mentioned yesterday, I’m going to Lexington to party with the other lunatics at Liz and Brad’s place in less than two weeks. Since the last two times I have been there I have at some point found myself at a tattoo parlor and I figure this time should be no different, I wanted to share with you the new artwork that I am looking forward to getting. Please tell me your honest opinion as to whether or not you like the design and where you think I should place the piece. And yes, you can even tell me not to get any more any thing (* waving at Adam *).
It should be noted that I would like to place this female tree (a version of the Tree of Life) on my left shoulder. The Strong Woman is on my right shoulder and the turtle with the Hawaiian islands is on my left upper butt cheek/waist band area. Eventually the mermaid riding the dolphin will be in the lower center of my back. Also there will be a frog of some sort somewhere and a quote from The Little Prince somewhere.
Here is the female tree:
Sorry the photo sucketh. The finished product will be awesome, though.
Twitter needs a breathalyzer. Seems my ridiculous ramblings led to me receiving this message:
Congrats @hellohahanarf. You’ve won the first Weekend Drunk Twit of the Night award! We’re so proud. Keep on celebrating! #Drunktwitaward
Yep, there is a Twitter account that sent out this message:
Seen any funny drunk tweets? We’re looking for the best drunk twitterer tonight. Send your nominations to @WeekendDrunk #Drunktwitaward
So, which one of you fuckers turned me in to the Weekend Drunk folks?
Anyhow, back to my ramblings. They are below. You might want to start at the bottom, though. (My favorite? When I scream in all caps to the internet that I didn’t take advantage of the bartender who had a shift conveniently end while I was at his bar. I was flirting shamelessly and he said he wanted to see my sweet suite’s hot tub and that he would love to “party” with me.) So here we go…witness the ugly typos and drunken ramblings of a woman on her last night in Vegas:
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, i hear the thump thump allure of the Voodoo lounge. PEace, i’m out!! GOtta run upstairs with the beautiful people.
@quirkysarah Always., Just running around the hote/lcasino and trying not t o bang hot guys. AIn’t easy!!
@quirkysarah HIC! (I loev me some VODKA of the Ketel variety)
@mindymin Pssshaw. No tylenol necessaryh. A giant glass o watern and some more water. wheeeee!
HEY INTERNET, I DIDN”T FUCK THAT GUY FROM THE BARR. OI kmnow you werea ll worried. we are good!!@
i think i get a better conscious the more i drink cozz seriously i do.
@mindymin I meant to say “shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” and i’m sorrry abiout all that ggggg stuff. !
@mindymin ggggggggggggggggggggggggg
@mtoast99 Don’t even sarart this game. Who’s on first. I don’t know. Third base bitcvh!!!!!!!!!!!
@GingerSnaps After all you do, I just hate that you have to deal with his stuupidass coz he sounds like a douche.
what?
@GingerSnaps Drunk girl says Nurseboy can show the pin and certificate later. Him a douchebag. Then again, I haVE been drinking.
@GingerSnaps Aftger his receint behavior? Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahkk him. SERIOUSLY.
@mtoast99 Well…ummmmmmmmm. Your face looks funnnier when I am drink. So tghere! hehe. ummmm. YEAH!
@Iron_Fist Oh don’t tempt me ,myfriend. it won’t be pretty. TURST ME!@
If drunk girl ,me shouldn’t have been Twitteringt earlier, imagine how much I shouldn’t me sending updaegts now. bitches. hehe
http://twitpic.com/4p7p4 – Indian dinner. Yum!!!
@sybillaw wish I knew why you thnik I amn funny! Xoxo
Ok, I sant spell Smithwick’s, but the Pens score!!!
What the fuck piece of shit Irish bar runs out of Smitheick’s? Seriously!
OK, I will blow who I have to blow…Let’s go pens!!!
It might be over. My hot bartender likes Crown.
http://twitpic.com/4owhu – Old fart from Buffalo who loves the Burgh
@burghbaby OK. That is it. I am going for it. Slap my ass and call me a cougar!!!
@burghbaby so if I ravish him, I can somehow blame your married, mommy self? Please say yes!! (He is adorable!)
Does everyone think they are going home with the hot young bartender, or am I really skirting the insane reality? I blame the sweet suite.
@quirkysarah turn on VS, silly. Pens are down and need you.
@Faiqa I have no doubt that you GLOW and don’t sweat. And I would love to see you all pretty and pregnant. Maybe soon…
@Faiqa Are you fucking kidding me? You are one of the most gorgeous & stunning people I know. And I know some gorgeous people!!!
Dear Pittsburgh Penguins, please commence to kicking ass and making my town proud. And help me play with this little boy. Thanks. XOXO, B
@burghbaby Love the new Twitter avatar!
Seriously hitting on cute bartender. Bad Becky. At least he was smart enough to put on the Pens game! (That means he wants me, right?)
@jonrandahl I am up! Whoooooo! (That means I am drinking in Vegas & flirting with the bartender.)
@mindymin DEAL!! Things settle down around the 18th. P.S. I am at an “Irish” bar that is out of Smithwick’s…how fucking sad is that??!?!
@jonrandahl oh…and HI!!!!
@jonrandahl Yes what is?
@snackiepoo Not only am I real, but tomorrow’s HNT was censored for you!
@BEFinn If you promise that the only time I will be on camera is to make out with @dutch_bitch, then I wholeheartedly agree.
@BEFinn Live video stream? Fuck. Is it too late to change my RSVP? Maybe this is a party I need to skip!
@mindymin you make me laugh. one of these days we are gonna have beers together, dammit!
