I am in San Antonio for work until early Thursday and I am too whupped to really write a post today. Certainly there are a shit ton of things to talk about, mostly all the fond memories from TequilaCon that are still floating in my brain, but seeing as how so many others are recapping the festivities so well I will just apologize for giving you this little “hi!” and running. So, Hi!! (and Sorry!)
Oh wait! I have to tell you a quick story that cracked me up. My coworker and I are working the trade show reception hard on Tuesday night. we do the whole Divide and Conquer. So here we are, meeting lots of great contacts, kicking ass and taking names, when he comes up to me all pissy like. Immediately I ask what is wrong and he says he is mad at me, but “we’ll talk about it later.” Oh fuck no. You got an issue with me buddy, we will straighten that shit out now. Right. Now.
ANYhow, we step aside from the crowd and it turns out that his issue was that every time he reached into his pocket for a business card to hand to a new contact he was pulling out one of the condoms that Avitable gave out in Philly. We both burst out into hysterical laughter and went back for more new people. So thanks for the smiles, Adam. I’m glad I took your condoms. (And so is the little boy at the gas station when I was on the PA turnpike. When I went to pay for my gas I saw one and said, “Hey, if someone gave you this at a party, would you take it or tell them to fuckoff?” He got a huge grin and said that he’d love one. Of course at that point I told him to keep Avitable’s condom, to use its lubricated goodness in good health and to check out Adam’s site. Maybe a new reader?)
Several Marker’s Mark bourbon and ginger ales after the coworker condom incident and I was back in my room, finally sleeping for about 11 hours straight. Thank God! I’m off to shower, see the Alamo and get my trade show booth set up.
Wow, lookie up there. I did sorta post up there. Wahooo!
Tuesday was one of the craziest days in recent memory. Please know that I am not talking about good and fun crazy, I am talking about work and personal life blowing my fucking mind to the point that I don’t know what is up. At this time I am not at liberty to discuss too much, but a few things need to be said:
I am loyal to those I love. Fiercely loyal. God help the one who hurts those I love.
Do not cross me or get in my way when those that I care about need to be protected.
While I am not quite 37, and do not claim to have all of the answers, I still have a little wisdom.
As much as I want to choke loved ones who are do not doing things the way I would, the fact remains that I certainly can respect decisions made that aren’t the decisions that I would have made.
When the pieces fall, I will be one of the first to arrive with a broom to gather all of the remnants.
Until everything your way falls apart, please only expect of me what I can give. I have my personal limitations.
(I am exhausted from crying and need to go to bed. Don’t worry about not commenting today, I know that I am being a tad cryptic with today’s ramblings. I have to be, at someone’s request. Know that I am sad and scared and concerned and overwhelmed, yet honored that I was brought into a situation where I will do all that I can to assist. Praying for me and those involved in this situation would be appreciated.)
My dear sweet bright futured woman, you are loved. NO MATTER WHAT. No. Matter. What.
I am still wearing my shades, because I truly feel that your future is that bright. I love you.
Why do we spend our good money on items that advertise for someone else? I do it all the time…the Harley watch, the Maker’s Mark hat, the t shirt from the Dead Dog Saloon in Myrtle, the Life is Good flip flops. Sometimes I am a walking billboard. I would have killed to win one of Dave2’s t-shirts or hats, but I would have broke down and bought one if I didn’t win. (Good news is that I won a shirt…yay!)
Anyone who has ever flown to Pittsburgh will notice a good portion of the plane’s passengers are wearing Steelers gear…sweatshirts, hats, t-shirts, whatever. They might have on Penguins or Pirates logos, but usually it is Steelers stuff, regardless of the season.
Considering as much as I do it myself, I still don’t understand it. Well, I totally get the black and gold pride so I can appreciate the gearing up for a flight home, but what about the corporations we advertise for? We pay VERY good money for some of the items we walk around in, yet do those companies show us any love? Do we get any breaks in prices of the gear? Oh hell no.
I looked at the photo below which taken at a friend’s recently and couldn’t believe what I saw. Me in the special edition St. Patrick’s Day Penguins hat (oh so not cheap, even after the High Holy Day) and a wonderfully thick Harley Davidson anniversary sweatshirt, holding Maker’s Mark soaked cherries that I bought at the distillery a few weeks ago. What you can’t see is the Harley Davidson reversible belt that I was also wearing. Watch, too. What was I thinking?
Damn it, I am no better than anyone else with this Walking Billboard crap. Can someone play shrink for a day and tell me why we willingly do this? Why we whore ourselves out in this manner?
Next thing you know we will be bagging our own groceries. Oh wait, that is another pet peeve for another day…but at least I don’t do that one.
What a fun, internet filled Sunday. Jester seemed to be on every BTR show but Karl’s today. And the man was on a roll. Not being folks to let a good thing go to bed at a reasonable hour, we found another show to crash, but this time the folks didn’t know us. Othurme, Shiny, Winter, Jester and I immediately started discussing bacon houses and other topics in the chat room while Jester dialed the phone. Damned if they didn’t welcome him into the conversation! Too bad next Sunday isn’t available for more Jester Rolling.
Since I mentioned bacon, especially for my dear friend Othurme, I give you all, the Bacon Bra:
Speaking of Othurme, every time I holler JACKIE CHAN! on Twitter or in a chat room he replies CHUCK NORRIS. Except that he doesn’t understand why it is so terribly funny. I’m certain that this little explanation probably won’t be as funny as if you were there for the original conversation, but I’ll try to explain it anyhow.
See, we were talking about sexual positions and various sexual acts. Someone mentioned the Shocker. It sort of went downhill from there and That Guy hollered “Jackie Chan” as he did a sort of karate chop that involved four fingers held tightly together being thrust forward. For some reason (beer) I found this absolutely hysterical. I mean, the Shocker is funny, but this was something I had never heard of. And I couldn’t quit laughing. My response was, “Ouch! If anyone ever tried to do that to me, I would go all Chuck Norris on their ass.” That evening, any time there was a lull in the conversation, someone would karate chop out and holler “Jackie Chan.” I cried and peed a little every time. (See, I told you that you had to be there.)
A week later I was in Kentucky for the Maker’s Mark Mile and the Jackie Chan comment was thrown about often. And I do mean often. It just blossomed into something that cracks me up every single time I hear it.
Best part of this weekend? Winning one of Dave2’s prizes over at his 5th Blogiversary party! Yay!!! I won a t-shirt and pins. Scha-weeeeet! Thanks so much for entertaining us, Dave. I can’t wait to have a drink with you in Philly this weekend. And I would be willing to bet that the shirt finds its way to a half nekkid Thursday. hehe
I also found out that one can make temporary tattoos at home:
(Kyra said this isn’t the best product, but it would be a start to get me in the right direction. Thanks, pretty lady!)
ANYhow, this weekend I didn’t do a damn thing. Even though there is more than lots to do. And you know what? It felt great. Seems like it is going to be a long time before I get to do nothing again.
Hope your weekend was fantastic. I know someone’s was. *giggling*
It is almost 3 and I don’t even have a post up today. What a frikken slacker I am sometimes. Although, in my defense, I had a busy week last week. No matter how gorgeous my hotel was, and how comfy the king sized bed was, I didn’t get much sleep in Atlantic City. There was too much Ketel One to be consumed, too many people to watch, too much fun to be had. Oh yeah, and I had to work the trade show floor also. On top of all of that, travel wipes me out.
Don’t feel too sorry for me being tired, though. We had the good fortune of traveling first class this trip…having a limo pick us up in Philly for the drive to Atlantic City, staying in a new, first rate hotel. Every time we went to the convention center the limo delivered us. Normally I am not a fan of limos, but this trip I found myself enjoying having all of us in the same vehicle instead of having to take several cabs. And the free water, pop, pretzels, peanut M & M’s, etc. was a nice touch. Especially when my hungover self needed to refuel.
In an effort to rest so that I don’t get sick (especially with TC coming up), today the dogs and I are really enjoying this relaxing Saturday. There are tons of things that I really need to take care of and I should be cleaning, but my Mom always said “Don’t should on yourself” and I am taking that advice today. Not doing a damn thing. For a long while I was outside with the boys, throwing the ball for Ludo. When it was about to start raining I came inside to dig around in Dave2’s archives. That man is amazing. Here it is his 5th blogiversary and he is giving us prizes. Blogography is such a gift in and of itself, yet he has all kinds of t-shirts and playing cards and buttons and drawings and himself to give. I WANNA WIN!! Mostly to be able to drag Dave all over the Burgh and to have him create a custom artwork image just for me. That would be entirely too cool. Good news is that even if I don’t win the contest I will have the opportunity to meet Dave in Philly next weekend. Guess that is a pretty decent consolation prize.
Speaking of TequilaCon, many of my friends are baffled that I am willing to drive five hours to hang out with 50 to 60 bloggers that I have never met before. Honestly, I appreciate their concern, but some of these people are already friends even if I have never seen them in person before. If they are gonna chop me up in little pieces, I really don’t think it will be done by a blogger at the hotel in Philly. Hell, I have a better chance of a complete stranger strangling me in Philly…that town has a few rough patches!
i appreciate that my friends care. I really do. It is nice to be cared about. Of course, if I ever forget how loved I am, I only need to view this photo that was taken while trying to type to you all:
hehe
Happy Saturday to all.
xoxo
The Pittsburgh Pirates suck so badly that the suckage is audible in Canada. The Buccos were on the wrong end of a 10 to 4 loss on Monday night.
The strange part is that I really don’t care. I love a night at our ballpark, one of the most beautiful parks in the country. My favorite Canadian was down from never never land where he resides. He was staying with my Security Blanket, my Wubbie, and his wife. Plus their four kids. Yep, FOUR. Whew! Somehow they managed to get someone to stay with the small army of kids so that we could catch the Pirates game. Here is a photo of the three of them at the game:
I made my Favorite Canuck wear a Pirates hat in the colors of his beloved Habs (he received hockey up-dates frequently from home…Montreal won so he was elated). It was a hat from the Fourth of July, but I didn’t tell him that.
We ate sammiches, drank beer, talked and laughed. It was so much fun that honestly I didn’t even really mind that the Buccos were losing. I mean, we were at the most beautiful ballpark in the country. And these are some of the best men I know. You folks have heard me complain about some of the men at trade shows, but these are the men who redeem my faith in men. I would do anything for either of them. And they always take care of me.
An interesting moment occurred early in the evening when we had just met and were having a few beers in the parking lot before the game. I had given my Favorite Canuck his ‘welcome to Pittsburgh’ presents (hockey related gear) and we were standing around, getting caught up with the festivities that we all had recently experienced. The boys told me about last week in Vegas for a show, I told them about my Maker’s Mark weekend. When I got to the part about getting the Strong Woman tattoo on the day that Mom had died, my Wubbie got sort of quiet and asked what the date was. Turns out his Dad died last year on the very same day.
Are you shitting me? The man who allowed me to curl up in his arms and wish the world away two years ago, who is so kind and sensitive about my feelings regarding Mom, this man had his Dad pass on the very same day one year after my Mudder did? Pass another beer, please.
Anyhow, after the game we ran over to the Hard Rock so Canadianboy could grab his souvenir. We were going to ride the incline, but someone is afraid of heights (I am not naming which one of you, but you know who you are!) so we decided to save that for the next visit. Since we all had to be up early, and since Wubbie’s babysitter had a curfew, we parted ways for the night. But not before making them listen to the drunk dialing messages that I have received from them over the last month. Wish I could get that shit on the internet for you guys…funny stuff.
I am leaving on a jet plane in the morning. Will be in Atlantic City for a few days. Should get a story or two outta this adventure. Wish my liver luck.
Oh wait! Before I go, I should hold true to my word yesterday about posting about my boobs. I took this at the ball game. Don’t worry, you will get better for Half Nekkid Thursday. Until then, deal with it.
An amazing friend and her awesome husband spent years trying to gain custody of his son. Unfortunately the courts saw him as some sort of villain man while seeing the mother of his son as some sort of natural caregiver simply because she has a vagina. The woman is/was not terribly nurturing, not terribly concerned about the son’s education, not terribly concerned about the serious ramifications that his diabetes held…just all around not the best parent to have primary custody of this intelligent boy. As the boy grew older more and more court hearings occurred, but always the child was given back to the mother, simply because she was a woman. Finally, FINALLY!!!, such travesties happened that the courts were able to see the stable home my friends provided were the best thing for the then 14 year old.
What a difference less than two years makes! Living with them is such a blessing (even if he hates to do chores). I just love this kid now. He is coming out of his shell, joking and laughing. His school work is forced to be a priority, his diabetes is kept in check, he is learning responsibilities, his participation in school plays/musicals is encouraged. It is truly a pleasure to watch him blossom into a young man.
When I was told that he wanted to include me in on his birthday party, I was honored. I mean, we are talking a 16th birthday party…that is big stuff in my book. Nothing could have kept me from this party. I skipped the Pitt blue / gold scrimmage game plus the meet and greet today. Bowling it was.
But I haven’t been bowling in ages. Years ago these friends convinced me to join a bowling league with them. It wasn’t pretty. I am so not a bowler, but there was plenty of beer and tequila at the alley so I figuered what the hell. When my teammates asked what we should call the team, my reply was that they shouldn’t ask me because “I’m just here for the beer.” Naturally they kept “just here for the beer” for our team name and that pretty much summed up my bowling carrer.
However, when I joined that league, I did run out and buy a ton of crap to at least look like I knew what the fuck I was doing. Ball, bag, shoes, little cover thingies for the shoes when you walk away from the clean lanes, towel to wipe the ball, wrist guard, little powder filled bag thingy…the works. Of course this stuff has been sitting forever and a half, but now the 16th birthday is a reason to dig out the ball and head to the lanes again. Wahoooo!
Here is a photo of my fabu bowling ball. Note the engraved “HAHA” on the ball. (My Pinky and the Brain issues go WAY back. Narf!)
You will note that my bowling ball is a lovely dark green. Father of birthday boy is incredibly secure in his masculinity and had no trouble bowling with a very, very pink ball. This is the man who gives himself manicures after changing the oil in his truck and bowls with a pink ball:
How could his wife not love that? (Although I do have a photo of him that he has agreed to allow me to post for a future HNT. I think you will see *ahem* another side to him. Wheeee!)
In my typical style, not a style I like about me, I arrived a half an hour late. They had started without me, as they should have, and everyone took turns bowling when it was my turn. By the time I threw my first ball it was the 9th frame. I threw a 5, then a gutter ball. Ugggggggggh. Come the 10th I threw a 4. Four frikken pins. The another gutter ball. Dammit.
Second game I started with a spare and continued with spares & strikes until the bastards killed our game due to incoming leagues. Booooooo! That game might very well have been a personal best and we were rudely interrupted. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Only saving grace was that meant it was time for cake.
Eventually it came time to open presents. Yay! Only the best part of any birthday party. Here he is reading the card I gave him that has a beagle on his back on top of his dog house looking at the starts and says, “May cosmic bliss come down and scratch you on the belly.” (My favorite card that I love so much that I bought like 20 of them. He was a worthy recipient.)
Because I am terrible with gifts I just gave him a crisp fifty dollar bill. He seemed pretty happy. Although he did score a pretty fucking cool hoodie covered in skulls that I tried to kidnap.
Afterwards we had lots of time to kill while waiting for the kids’ parents to show up to schlep them home. Sometimes I forget what it is like to be a teenager. Those kids are fun! Although the writing on each other with a Sharpie pen probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas. Birthday boy’s self inflicted nipple tattoos seemed to be the high point for him…
(Small aside here. The writing on his chest says “right” and “left” under each nipple, but the words are not written for him, they are written for the viewer so that “left” is on his right. We went round and round on that one. I say “left” should have been on his left, not the way I view left. Kids! They have to do things their way! Oh how I love the independence of youth.)
One of the kids in our group was wearing a camo shirt that said, “Ha! Now you can’t see me.” I want that t-shirt in the worst way.
Eventually I popped the back of my vehicle and blasted some music. The kids all climbed in and pretended they were dogs. Here is the birthday boy, who was naturally the first one in.
I think the best part of the day might have been the ride back to their house. Birthday boy wanted to ride with me…in the back of the SUV. I sure as shit didn’t care so we popped the glass window open and he waved to all the cars going by. When I was his age we did the same things so I got a kick out of it. Especially when I blasted Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin and we both sang at the top of our lungs.
Great day.
Happy, happy 16th birthday, DW. You are loved.
EDIT TO ADD: Oh my fuck! How outta shape to I gotta be to have my left ass cheek hurt from bowling? WTF??!?!??! Seriously, I just got up to let the dogs out to pee and I shit you not, it feels as though someone punched me in the ass. Man, I gotta get into shape.
I freely admit that there are several “reality” television programs that I love. Top Chef, Project Runway, some American Idol, America’s Next Top model, Amazing Race, Survivor…those are the kinds of programs that I like. I have never watched The Biggest Loser. Tonight I was flipping through the channels and found the Biggest Loser. Haven’t watched it before really, but I am loving this finale. They are competitors, yet so damn encouraging of each other. And that is so fucking cool. I don’t care who wins, I am not invested in these people, yet I think they are all winners not only because of the weight loss, but because of their attitudes. It makes me feel good to see people pulling for each other, helping each other, loving each other. Sometimes I think like a tree hugger twirler. Except that I like deodorant.
Ever done something that you aren’t proud of? Of course you have. We are human. No way to avoid fucking up at least once in a while. Somehow we manage to forgive ourselves. Right?
So why is it that I get so infuriated when a friend has done / is doing something that I have done / still do? One of my bestest buddies is involved in a relationship that she shouldn’t be involved in and I hate it. Yet I have done the same damn thing.
I know it sorta makes me a hypocrite and that is not sitting well with me. Granted I try VERY hard to support her while also holding up a mirror and forcing her to realize the wrong she is doing, but the fact remains that i have done the wrong thing over and over. I am still a hypocrite for doing the whole “if it feels good do it” routine and wanting her not to.
Ok, I can’t be more specific here because I really don’t know who is reading this, or who might in the future. Don’t worry about commenting on this rambling & uninformative post. While I wanted to get this out, it just doesn’t seem to be working. So I am back to beating up my hypocritical self and being frustrated with my friend. Frustrated that she isn’t smarter than me!
sigh.
