Dry Weddings

As my cousin so eloquently put it, there are some things that just shouldn't be dry, including weddings, first dates and pool parties. Truer words were never spoken.

This last weekend was spent in my parent’s hometown of Condon, OR, to attend my cousin Earl’s wedding. His wedding with no booze. That’s right, a dry wedding. I truly believe there is alcohol at weddings for a reason and this one was no exception. Because there were enough little nuggets of goodness to fill four blog posts, I will try to point out just the big highlights:

1. The bridesmaid dresses were forest green with lace shawls. They were all wearing black cowboy boots with them
2. The woman playing the organ had the piano skills of a three year old
3. A woman got up in the middle of the ceremony and surprised the couple with her own rendition of "A Moment Like This," by Kelly Clarkson
4. When they kissed, motorcycle revving was playing in the background
5. They walked out to "International Harvester"
6. The bouquets were made out of wheat from our family wheat farm
7. They drove away in a combine
8. I broke a plastic chair and fell on my ass when SURROUNDED by people over 300 pounds. Of course it's my chair to go...

And there so much more, like a spam carving contest and old ladies letting people sign their boobs and me passing out in the car and my parents leaving me there. Really, just a quality, quality weekend.

And yes, all of that really happened. I’m still in awe.

Big hats make me happy

So I know I said I was going to restart the blog… but then I didn’t… but now I’m back! And with fun stories and everything. First up, the Kentucky Derby.

One of my clients when I worked in Seattle was based in Lexington, Kentucky and I learned quite a bit about the Kentucky Derby from those girls: everything needs to be big. Big hats, big hair, big boobs (if you’ve got them. I don’t). And I LOVE big hats and big hair and big boobs. So when I was invited to a Kentucky Derby this year to benefit Oregon Active, I jumped at the chance.

The day started out with mimosas (okay, just champagne) with the girls at 8:30am and snowballed into mint juleps and vodka sodas by 2pm. There were some amazing hats that were clearly crafted by very creative women. A guy friend of mine was there in a plaid blazer, pink chinos, green boat shoes and a pink tie. Everyone really went all out and it couldn’t have been more fun. I FULLY recommend everyone throw one of these parties every year if for nothing else than the fun of dressing up.

I see many a theme party in my future…

I’m back! From outer space! (*aka the blog for Elissa)

So I don’t know if anyone reads this anymore. You know, since I stopped writing when I had NOTHING to say anymore. Because I was unemployed. And boring. And sad.

But now, how the tides have turned! I’m employed! And exciting! And happy! I’m working and traveling and quite possibly taking a pole dancing class (it’s EXERCISE, people!). I’m hanging out with friends and having wacky vacations. Really, anything could happen. May promises some big weekends including, but not limited to: a Kentucky Derby party (my hat is glorious), a Condon wedding (a DRY Condon wedding at that…), my long-awaited return to Missoula (where the Cougar Club will be reunited), and a 30th wedding anniversary party in La Grande, OR.

They all should provide quite the party (first for me and then for your reading pleasure). I only wish I’d already finished those pole dancing classes…

Rugrats

So I don't want kids. Have I ever brought this up? I taught swimming lessons for 8 years and studied to be a teacher in college. I have a major in English with minors in Education and Psychology. I was student teaching my senior year and about three weeks before graduation, I walked into my class room and the hate for every one of those kids ran so deep, I turned around, walked out and never looked back.

I thought the hate would go away but it only grew for the next couple years. My sister said she knew it was really serious when I threatened to stick my arm out and clothesline a little girl who was running up and down the aisle of a plane we were on. My anger and general dislike was now bordering on violence...

But last night I went to dinner with the family I used to babysit for in high school. They have three kids: two girls and a boy. And they are the best children known to man. Incredibly intelligent, hilarious, well-rounded, sweet and well behaved. All the time! They are all adorable and talented and a true joy to be around. They respect their parents, get good grades and play every sport you can think of. I think if this family teamed up with my do-gooding sister and her environment-loving boyfriend they could collectively bring about world peace. While I watched from the couch with a glass of wine...

So thank you, Lances, for renewing my hope that I won't want to give away my own children as soon as they've left the womb. But, be warned: I'm still not having more than one...

New President = Drinking on a Tuesday

Yay for America! Finally a new President. I remember when Bush was first elected and we were all watching the results on the big TV in the basement of my sorority. I hadn't voted (even though I was 18) and another one of my "sisters" led our school's Young Democrats group. She was sobbing and screaming about how Bush was going to take away our birth control. That little exaggeration definitely had me wishing I'd voted...

Even though we still have our birth control, we had a lot of other important things taken away from us. Mainly our confidence in and respect for our country's leadership. I had a lot of friends and family in DC and my favorote stat from today was that there were over one and a half million people gathered to watch Obama speak and that there had not been ONE arrest. If that doesn't give you hope for the future peace of our nation, I don't know what will.

So, to celebrate this historic day I'm forcing one of my friends with a "flexible" job to hot the town with me. Now I just need to find bars with Obama-themed drinks so I can literally drink in his awesomeness. Too much? Nahhhhh....

God bless America. And Hugh Grant.

From the first time he asked me if I'd "go out" with him, I knew he'd be my first kiss. Granted, I literally sprinted away from him in fear and locked myself in a bathroom (true story), but that was because I was nervous and I liked him. That's right, Eric Wilson. If you're stalking me out there in the wide blogosphere, in fourth grade I thought you would be my first kiss. Maybe it was the fact that you gave me a pencil eraser shaped like a dinosaur. Or that you hoarded up all your delicious flouride tablets to share with me. Or that you had tremendous roller skating skills. Whatever the reason, you were most definitely my grade school / middle school crush.

But after you chased me on your bike and I left you standing outside the bathroom waiting for a yes or a no, it was never the same with us. So, dreams dashed, I had to look elsewhere for my first kiss...

Two years later, at horse camp at Camp Collins, I met him. Simon. Tall, skinny, luxurious Hugh Grant-ish floppy blonde hair. Clear skin and a different Hypercolor shirt every day. With my awesome puffy new hairdo, skinny legs and oversized puff paint t-shirts we were a match made in heaven. We shared a love of anything the color forest green, extrememly light colored jeans, cheesy rolls and singing the song, "Yesterday" by the Beatles at campfire. Our cabinmates passed notes for us for an entire week and, finally, it was decided. First, we would sit next to eachother at campfire and HOLD HANDS (gasp!). The next day - our last day at camp - we would meet before flag and, while everyone was watching, kiss.

I don't remember much. I remember that he was wearing a purple t-shirt and Adidas flip flops. I believe I was wearing jean shorts and a dark tank-top. So you can all have a nice visual, this was me in 6th grade:

Obviously not much has changed. We walked slowly towards eachother, said hi, and he leaned in and kissed me. No hands, no body touching, just lips. There was yelling and clapping, I heard the National Anthem blaring from the flag pole and then, like that, it was over. I lined up with my cabin, watched his cabinmates high five him and walked into the cafeteria to load up on cheesy rolls.

I now associate kissing with applause, cheese and my love of America. It just really doesn't get much better than that...

Elastic Pants and Days of Our Lives

Today, I had a classic unemployment converstation via IM with my friend A. This is just ONE example of the ways my life is slowly evolving:

A: Leaving work now--i'll probably be over at 6. Sound good?

L: Sounds perfect. I'm in spandex and no bra. FYI. Might put a bra on before my dad gets home. MAYBE.

A: I love it. I'll wear a bra :).

L: Thanks - my Dad will really appreciate it.

Is the constant wearing of elastic pants and watching WAY too much daytime TV sad? No, my friends, no. IT'S AMAZING.

I am officially a nerd

So over the course of the last few days, I've been called out as a nerd by several different people. My nerdy offenses are as follows:

1. I am listening to the last Harry Potter book, The Deathly Hallows, on book on CD in my car. I tend to get where I'm going and sit in the car for a while to listen to more of it.

My response: It's HARRY POTTER! I'm shocked it's taken me this long to get to it! I mean, does he die? Is Dumbledore still alive? Does he reconcile with Ginny?? So many questions to be answered! And what else am I doing with my day? NOTHING.

2. I interviewed at a PR firm that specializes in 3D gaming, animation and visualization and got SUPER EXCITED.

My response: Come on, people. I would get to go to tradeshows like CES! And Siggraph! And work with editors from VFX World! If that isn't everyone's dream job, I don't know what is. Side note: My friend K just went to CES and stood 10 feet away from Travis Barker and DJAM at a CES party. And got Travis Barker's drumstick. Not so nerdy NOW, is it??

3. I would prefer to see the foreign vampire movie, "Let the Right One In" to Anne Hathaway and Kate Hudson's, "Bride Wars."

My response: At this rate I'm closer to becoming a vampire than I am to getting married. Enough said.

Christmas keeps going!

So a while ago I joined this online community called 20 Something Bloggers. It's a great place to find new and interesting blogs and connect new people to your own. So I signed up for the 20SB Secret Santa. We got paired up with other bloggers and send one another gifts. I sent JD the hilarious book, Chuck Norris: 400 Facts About the World's Greatest Human. It had Paige in tears for a week before I sent it. But with all the moving and weather and holidays, I JUST received my gift from my Secret Santa. And it's awesome. I got the new header for my blog (extremely cool since I'm so technologically stunted), an adorable snowman window scraper, a Christmas tree candle, and a cute book. All from the Dutchess of Kickball. So thank you, thank you!

Now, if Santa would just deliver me a JOB, that would be greeeaaaatttt...

$34.99 might not be worth it

So in my quest to rid myself of 8 months worth of Montana-style drinking, I've joined a gym. I usually try to find the nice gym in town so it makes me want to go. Now that I have to watch my money, spending $125 a month on a "club" vs a "gym" didn't seem like the smartest decision.

So I joined Bally's. I have always avoided the Bally's/24 Hour Fitness/Golds Gym's of the world because they just seem so sleazy. And the men are always too muscular and tan with cropped hair and bicep tattoos. I hate the way they're always going to refill their water/protein powder/steroid conconctions and then taking 20 minute breaks between sets. And the women all have fake boobs and wear really tight pants and don't put their hair up in a ponytail. Who wants sweaty hair? And a sweaty back?

And then there's the smell. You know what I'm talking about. Like a mix between Wal-Mart and a rollerskating rink. If both of those were packed with sweaty people.

The gym I joined has a normal sleazy section and then it also has a "women's only" section. I was fascinated. All the same machines and weights, but no men. And since the tan, boobied women tend to stay on the sleazy side to attract the sleaveless shirted, no-neck men, the "women's only" side is full of slighty overweight to full-on obese older women.

So I'm torn here... which side do I go to?? Do I stay on the women's only side until I save up enough money for a boob job? Or do I brave the judgemental d-bags on the sleazy side in order to save myself the shame of being one of the "older crowd?"

Decisions, decisions... Meh, I'll probably just stop going to the gym.

The official 2009 post

Welcome 2009! I know I've been ridiculous about the blogging, but I have an excuse: I was busy. Whhaaaaa? Busy over the holidays you say? Yes, that's correct. Here's what I've been busy with since I last posted:

• Tricking my parents, driving with a friend's family and showing up in Portland after all my flights were cancelled and I thought I'd be spending Christmas alone in Montana. Surprise!
• Drinking copious amounts of booze.
• Celebrating Christmas with my HS friends by attending the annual cocktail party and the annual Christmas Sweater brunch:

• Shopping even though I don't currently make any money (see above shirt).
• Noticing that although Portland has some attractive men, they all wear pants that are too tight. Fine, maybe my pants are too tight right now, too, but I'm hoping my suffocated legs aren't screaming, "gaaaayyyyyyy!" like theirs are.
• Finishing a bottle of Patron with my cousin at a family dinner party:

• Drinking my first official fishbowl and watching my cousin try to order one without ice:

B: "I want a Long Island fishbowl without ice."

Waitress: "Without ice? Like you want more juice?"

B: "No, not more juice. Less ice."

Waitress: "So you want more booze."

B: "Yes, and no ice."

Waitress: "I can't do that. It's illegal."

B: "That's crap. Just do it."



I love drinking with family...

• Spending NYE with high school friends, my friend Christy from Missoula and my friend E and her sister at our friend's, "The Future's So Bright You Gotta Wear Shades" party. After looking around at the complete LACK of single and attractive men, I was heard screaming across the party for my friend Christy so I could hug her into 2009. If you don't kiss someone on NYE is that bad luck?

• Forcing all my friends to watch the most underrated movie of 2008: "Stepbrothers." WONDERFUL.
• Awkwardly quoting from a movie no one has seen, making me sound crazy: "Dragon, I forgot to ask you: do you like guacamole?" Yaaaaa.
• Flying back to Missoula and immediately rallying for a Goodbye Bar Crawl. My friends sent me out in STYLE. More to come on that.
• Packing, moving and cleaning in 12 hours. And hungover.
• Enduring a MISERABLE and horrifying drive home with my father. The weather couldn't have been worse. My parents were mocking me for putting studded tires on the Jetta and now I hear nothing. Damn straight.

And now I'm back in Portland! And contracting! And interviewing! And generally living in a weird dream trance. I have to stay in this weird dream trance because I'm 28 and living with my parents. No normal person could deal without that without vodka, pills and a constant state of denial.

Happy New Year all!