Black Moses in the Hizzy!

Last weekend my brother Kelly and I embarked on a journey to the mountains of Denver, Colorado. There were so many memories made on the trip, thanks to good music, great friends, and a lot of booze. Of all the new friends I met on this trip though, Dennis Booker stands above the crowd. No, I'm not talking about Dennis Booker from 21 Jump Street; Im talking about Dennis Booker, CEO of D&D Transportation.




In order to adequately sing the praises of Mr. Booker we need to travel back in time to Friday evening after the concert. We were all still on a concert high and decided to go to a local watering hole to quench our insatiable thirst and continue our streak of bad decisions being made. As the night went on people slowly started to sneak out and head home, one of them being JC. He decided it was time to go and Mitch begrudingly agreed, but not before making it clear that he was not happy. The boys start walking and decide that a cab would be the best way of getting back to the apartment we were staying at so they starting looking up and down the road for their chariot. As they are walking down the street they see a well dressed man standing by an Escalade. The man tells them to 'get in' and opens the door to the Escalade. Mitch was a little hesitant about this situation but before he could voice his concerns JC had already hopped in and was ready to go. They tell Dennis where they are heading and start talking about where they are from and what brought them to Denver. Dennis must have taken a liking to these boys because he offers them a Coors Light out of the cooler he has packed away in the Escalade. These aren't just any Coors Light cans though, they are mini Coors!

Aren't they cute?

JC was so impressed by the awesomeness that is DB that he arranged for him to pick us up on Saturday for the 2nd Dispatch concert we were all attending.

Saturday:

I was still feeling the repercussions of the night before so all I wanted to do was curl up in bed and watch the trial for Caylee Anthony's mom (what a psycho). Shaina somehow convinced me to go to the concert so I threw on some clothes and headed down to the lobby to meet up with the rest of the group. I was greeted by Dennis who told us to bring some beer and hop in....sold. He had a mix CD that he made, which could have been confused for NOW 342 because there were some hot jams on it. Our fan favorite was Wiz Khalifa's Black and Yellow, which Dennis played as loud as he could while we drove down the interstate to Red Rocks. When we arrived at Red Rocks there are about a half dozens entrances for cars and limos to drop off and pick up people. Apparently Dennis had made such an impression on the Red Rocks employees that they all just let him pass through without checking out tickets or asking questions. As he was driving through the sea of people he proclaimed, 'Im the Black Moses, get out of the way!". Sure enough, people did.

When we got dropped off we set up a game plan to have him bring us back in a limo because there were going to be 8 additional friends that were meeting us there and needed a ride home. The show ended and we went out to meet up with Dennis and hop in our limo. When we find him we notice that he is still driving the Escalade, wuh oh. Apparently another group said they would pay more to take the limo so they got whisked away and we were left with 12 people to fit into a 7 person Escalade. You would think that we would just arrange for another company to come pick us up, but no way Jose- we were fitting in that damn Escalade. People were sitting on laps, in the trunk, and in the aisle on a very uncomfortable cooler. Good thing there is always a massive traffic jam after concerts because who wouldn't want to stay packed in like this?

Dennis made it all better by buying us Skol vodka and ice cream sandwiches, which we all ate immediately. Never underestimate the power of an ice cream sandwich to calm the nerves of a drunk 20something after a concert. We listened to the music at full blast, which is not as enjoyable when you have someone's elbow in your side and a styrofoam cooler on your lap, but it was still one of the best memories of the trip. We finally made it back to the hotel where Molly, Shaina, and I left to go to bed. The boys stayed with Dennis though and went to the bars to continue the good times. If you are ever in the Denver area and need a driver who will make you laugh, make you question your decisions at times, and buy you ice cream sandwiches then give Dennis a call.

18 Weeks Ago this seemed like a good idea...

I just completed my first half marathon today! It is a great feeling, minus the searing pain coming from my waist down. Everyone I have talked to has been asking me: "How was it?" and "How do you feel?". I think that documenting each mile is the best way to adequately describe the roller coaster of emotions I went through this fine Sunday morning.

5:30am: Alarm goes off, immediate reaction is excitement followed by the urge to hit the snooze button once.

7:00am: race start time. Am I standing in line eagerly awaiting my turn to cross the start line? No. I am scrambling to find a parking spot because I ended up hitting the snooze button 3 times instead of once.

7:33am: officially started the race. Luckily there were 8000 runners so no one had to know that I had just gotten there in time to start.

Mile 1: Feeling great! Even though iPods were discouraged, I brought mine anyway. I was not about to spend 13.1 miles listening to myself breath.

Mile 2: Still feeling awesome! Im keeping up with the 2:00 pacer, if I can just stay with her I will be set!

Mile 3: Legs are starting to feel the burn, but I keep running. I toyed with the idea of running one mile, walking the next and so one, but Im feeling too good to slow down now.

Mile 4: Still running - wanted to slow down but "Push It" by Static X came on my iPod and its physically impossible to walk through this song.

Mile 5: Elvis just cheered me on, sweet. I decided to slow it down which is really hard to do when so many people are running past you. 2:15 pacer just passed me, crap.

Mile 6: My shoes are awesome, one of the best purchases I have made in a long time (Nike FreeRun+). My feet hardly hurt!! Saw a sign that said "Run! Zombies!". So I did.

Mile 7: I made a really lame attempt to drink my water as I ran past the group handing it out. Good thing I have a DriFit shirt on otherwise this would be awkward. Ok I need to walk.

Mile 8: Back to walking, toes starting to cramp. 2:30 pacer just passed me.

Mile 9: A man dressed as a pregnant nun just helped direct us across a busy street, sweet. I am amazed and grateful for all the spectators along the route, they really helped push me out of my mental blocks.

Mile 10: My hands are swelling up. I KNEW I should have drank more Gatorade before the race, shit. Everyone loves a girl with sausage fingers right? There is a lady playing air guitar to Bob Seger's "Hollywood Nights" on the side of the road so I better run the last half of this mile.

Mile 11: I am walking. Slowly. I may or may not have broke both of my ankles, at least thats how it feels. These shoes are the worst purchase I have ever made, might as well have run barefoot. 3:00 pacer just passed me, thats it- now Im pissed.

Mile 12: Oh God Im still running? Surprisingly it hurts less if I run, I think because my body is still trying to catch up to my brain. At least I can see the stadium.

Mile 13: Finally, the final mile!!!! Hands are swollen, face is sun burnt (totally forgot the sunscreen), and my feet are either cramping or broken. We are now running alongside the marathoners, which makes me realize they just ran twice as far in the same amount of time. Amazing athletes.

Finish: I start alongside the stadium and just go into a dead sprint. Not because I wanted to get a good time, but because I wanted the banana and gatorade waiting for me at the end of the line. I cross the finish line at the 50 yard line in Memorial and cant help but yell out a resounding 'FUCK YEAH". I grab my medal and food and begin the long process of calming my body down.

Now: There are ice bags on my feet, but they say I will live. I had so much fun training for this race, but Im so glad its over.

That Don't Impress Me Much

Being a single girl in your 20s definitely has its perks: you can drink out of the milk carton, listen to *Nsync Christmas while running errands without fear of ridicule, and every weekend you can observe the single men at the bar and judge them.

However, you have to be cautious when on the prowl because if you aren't careful you could end up with a hot guy who bites his toenails. Not that I've ever had that happen, Im just saying it would be a dealbreaker...so anyway, here is a guide on single guys at the bar.

For one, always always always look for the ring. I remember back in my younger college days when that was not even an issue. Now it's just something you automatically look for, like zits when you are staring at a changing room mirror.

Ok so you check for the ring, now you check the clothes. If there are oversized words written in cursive anywhere on their clothing, back away. Chances are they enjoy a good fist pump and red bull/vodka to hide their impotency. Now I realize that not ALL guys fit this stereotype, but I have yet to be proven wrong.

The guy passed the first two tests, great! You are on your way to wedded bliss. Now you just have to start talking to him. You start up a conversation and things are going great until it happens: he breaks out the smartphone. Its over, just cut your losses and walk away.

For those of you who have not encountered the Smartphone Guy let me give you an idea of what happens: You start talking and he brings up the fact that he owns a dog. Cute! Well then he needs to show you the 1,450 pictures of the stupid ugly mutt to prove that he owns it. The pictures range from a closeup of the dog, to artsy pictures of the dog looking out the window, to a picture of the dog's new doghouse. And it doesn't stop there - then Smartphone Guy realizes he has all sorts of albums on his phone that he thinks you will enjoy so you end up looking at pictures of his tattoos, shoes, food he ate that day, and a funny sign he saw while driving the other day. You somehow manage to change the subject to something he doesn't have a picture of, but he doesn't know the subject matter very well. No problem, he can just Google the topic and pretend like he knows what you are talking about. The icing on the cake is when the conversation starts to fizzle - the SECOND that happens, he has his nose in his phone and you are officially out of sight, out of mind. I feel that for this reason marriage to your phone will be legalized before gay marriage in this state.

As I type this I can't help but laugh to myself because I have encountered these types of guys more than I care to admit. Maybe I'M the one with the problem? No, thats ludacris. I am the epitome of normal.

Oh I wish I was a wiener...

Do you remember when you were a kid and life was riddled with the three basic “times”: play, nap, and story? It was blissful and every night you could go to bed in your little worry-free cocoon of happiness. The best part was the friends you made and how seemingly easy it was. “Hey, you have Strawberry Shortcake mittens, me too – lets be friends!” That one little article of clothing was all it took to become best friends and a lifetime of sharing pogs, lunches, and secrets.

Fast forward to present day…

You have a job, you have bills, you have responsibility. Play time consists of you singing horrible kareoke and drunk texting a guy you think might like you so sending that 2am text message will surely confirm this. You still watch a few cartoons before naptime, but that’s only because you are too hungover to do anything else. Story time is reading this blog and your friends’ Facebook status updates, my how you have broadened your horizons. Making friends can be a little more difficult in present day because if you try to be friends with someone because they have the same mittens as you, it could land you with a nutbag.

However, the friends you do make now are much more likely to last because we are all adults and can rationally express our feelings and make solid decisions.

Right?

Wrong. So very, very wrong.

Friendships sometimes fall apart. They fall apart because two people have grown distant from each other and sometimes they fall apart because disagreements get the better of us and we can never reconcile. Sometimes they fall apart because of hot dogs.

Personally, I hate when I lose friends over hot dogs. I cant even tell you how many times I’ve looked back and said ‘damn, I wonder how so and so is doing? Stupid hot dogs.’ Absurd, no? Ridiculous, asinine, and illogical? Absolutely. True story though? Hell yes, but not directly related to me. Allow me to elucidate…

I had a friend call me the other day to fill me in on all the past weekend activities I missed out on because I went out of town. Admittedly this is always my favorite part of when either of us take a vacation because it allows the vacationer to realize how messed up our lives are back home and also how painfully entertaining it is when we are on the outside looking in. Anyway she reveled me on stories of getting hit on, the typical drama we see every weekend, and also the atypical drama that happened that particular weekend.

It was at this point that I was going to go into detail about the story but I feel the Reader’s Digest version is pretty accurate so it went like this.

“Friend found hot dogs at a store that her friend with a hint of benefits loved and could never find. Friend took picture of hot dogs and sent to slight benefit guy. Slight Benefit guy wanted to know where to find them. Friend didn’t know and was busy tending to other friends who were drunk and entertaining. This led Slight Benefits to think she was ignoring him and he got grumpy. Being the rational, reasonable person he was he decided that since she would not divulge where the hot dogs were found he would delete her from Facebook. He also deleted anyone that could possibly be tied back to Friend as a fool proof way of proving his temper tantrum was ‘for realz’. The end.

Moral of the story is: “Don’t value hot dogs over your friends, or you end up looking like the wiener.” Haha, get it?

The only thing we have to fear...is everything.

Fear is such an invasive emotion. It can completely cripple a person, leaving nothing but a soiled pair of shorts and an out of control heartbeat. Everyone is afraid of something, whether they admit it or not, but how do these fears come about? I think there is a difference between 'fear' and 'things that you dont like'. I personally do not like Miley Cyrus but in no way do I fear her (unless she became a zombie, Im pretty sure that would be horrible).

There are two things in particular that I fear: bleeding from the mouth and shellfish. One is completely warranted and one I have no effing clue how it developed but it is borderline psychotic.

I used to love shellfish. I remember vividly going up to Seattle to visit family and eating oysters in the half shell over the fire. I also remember helping my Uncle Buck ride out into the ocean to collect his crab traps so we could dunk the poor bastards in a buttery garlic sauce. I salivated at the thought of 4th of July parties because that almost always meant there would be shrimp cocktail. Shellfish was my friend and I loved it.

One weekend in college I went up with some friends to visit our friend Kat in Minnesota. We were having a great weekend and decided to go to Joe's Crab Shack for dinner. I of course ordered oysters in a half shell, a tip of the hat to my Seattle days. I got through two of them and I noticed my forearms were getting really red. And then itchy. No big deal, probably just all the mosquito bites I got from being outside all day. But the more I itched, the more they popped up. Then it got a little hard to breathe. While all this is going on my friends were out paying the bill and making their way back. I didn't say much, just wheezed that I needed Benadryl. So one girl is completely freaked out and gives me a paper bag to breath into. This would help if it wasn't already hard enough to breath, but I appreciated the attempt to help. Kat was still new to town and wasn't 100% where a Walgreens or pharmacy was so we went to a gas station. I popped those babies like they were candy and quite honestly the next thing I remember is driving back to Omaha the next day - but not before I had a dream about a sweet northern voice telling me to rest and visit an allergist when I got home (I suspect this was the nurse that dealt with me).

So I booked an appointment with the allergist when I returned to the homeland. Heed my warning, do not visit an allergist unless you absolutely have to. I'm sure there are other ways of determining if you have a food allergy but the route my doctor went was pricking my forearm over and over again with different allergens to see how I reacted. BLECH! No thanks - after 12 skin pricks he finally determined that I was allergic to shellfish, or some chemical found only in shellfish.

So with that knowledge I was extra cautious about what I ate. For awhile I would not eat anything that came from the ocean because what if that fish ran into a crab or shrimp and its chemicals got on it? No thanks, I will pass on the chance to have my throat close up again. I have lightened up a lot since then and will even go to sushi restaurants on occasion, but the fear still lingers that my next bite may be what sets me on a one way trip to the hospital.

Ok so the next fear, I will admit, is stupid. It is stupid until you are the one dealing with it. I cannot handle bleeding from the mouth or seeing other people bleed from the mouth. I am honestly not sure where or when it developed but Im pretty sure there is not a support group for it. Once I was at a friends house and he wanted to watch Kill Bill. I hadn't seen it but it was by Quentin Tarantino so how gory could it be? (har, har). The opening scene is of Uma Thurman laying on a church floor covered in blood, and her teeth are broken and bloody. (On a side note, I just got terrible goosebumps writing that) Well the blood and the teeth were so overwhelming that I ran for the bathroom to throw up. As I was running I could feel my stomach getting tighter and the power to hold it in was fading. I made it about halfway before I spewed behind his couch. I have rendered people speechless on a few occasions, but this one was by far the most awkward. I started crying because I was so embarrassed and disgusted because I had no idea where that came from, but he assured me it was probably just something I had ate. I actually believed that for awhile until I had my wisdom teeth removed. They knocked me out and when they were done and woke me up they had me sit up very slowly. I did but not before catching a glimpse of the bloody bib and gauze on the table next to me - I instantly passed out from the sight. Ever since then I cannot floss unless I close my eyes or watch someone bleed from their mouth without getting sick to my stomach - thank God Im past losing my baby teeth.

Beep Beep goes the car

My apartment complex hates people with cars. It is a well known fact that if you do not call it a night before 10pm you will have to park in the proverbial BFE. I ran into this dilemma last night after sober cabbing some friends home after the 2am bar close. As I approached the lighted sign for my apartment I had my fingers crossed that someone left after hours early right outside my building. No dice. I also found myself driving extremely slow and looking in every cul-de-sac for potential spots - if I had a van with no windows I would definitely be labeled a pedophile. I guess its a good thing kids don't hop into 2-door, untinted Chevy Cobalts. Woah there tangent, go back where you came from.

So this morning me and Joanne decide to go to the Farmers Market at Midtown Crossing because there was promise of a free Chik-Fil-A sandwich if you bought something. Any time you offer a chicken and pickle sandwich to me just for buying something I am sold. I offered to drive because my car was so far away I think we moved to a different zip code while walking. As I was pulling out I couldn't help but notice the car next to me had two teddy bears sitting on a couch that was perched in the back window. Really?! So that got me thinking about other things I don't like on cars and wonder why so many people think its ok?

1) Stuffed animals in the back seat. Why do you need to display all the animals you won from the claw game at Pizza Hut?? Does it make your car seem whimsical and timeless, like a modern day Peter Pan? Those poor animals don't stand a chance in the hot sun and you leave them there to roast every day. I'm sure that the puppy wearing the local sports team jersey and pink bear holding a heart would much rather prefer to be in your house with the other creepy dolls you keep on the shelves.

2) "My kid did this" bumper stickers. It should be more aptly named "My kid did something that you will in no way care about but I feel bad if I don't put it on my car" bumper stickers. I remember when I was little I got one of those bumper stickers for making the honor roll in grade school. I was so proud of it and I gave it to my dad to display somewhere that everyone would see. A few days later I found it plastered on the inside of one of his tool cabinets. Hindsight tells me that my dad felt the same way that I do about those stupid stickers so I can't fault him. I am all about celebrating your kid's achievements, but my only requirement is that I actually know you before I do.

3) Testicles on a truck. Dumb, stupid, and no it doesn't make you any more manly. Just like putting boobs on a VW Bug doesn't make it any more girly.

4) Leis in the rear view mirror. I admit when I was younger I had my fair share of things hanging from my mirror: a visor from the CWS, my high school tassel, and a multitude of leis. I am guessing that every girl must go through this phase, but I haven't quite figured out why. It automatically brands your car as 'female' which means there will be nothing but chap stick and Nsync CDs to steal. It would go nicely with the pair of boobs on the VW though.

5) Lights on the undercarriage. Why do you need this? You can't even see them because you are driving, so did you get them so others could have a mini light show when you zoomed by in your rice burner? Thats so fast AND furious! At least have it timed to music or something so I can be entertained when we are stuck next to each other at a red light. And no, I will not race you. I do enjoy making it sound like I DO want to race though and then when he zooms away I turn right and giggle to myself on the side street. Dumbass.

Now if you don't mind I need to get to the body shop to get lambo doors put on the Cobalt, I am going to be so badass.

Another Night, Another Lip Sync

After a particularly long Friday at work (typing up FAQs for my darling passengers, while useful, its completely mindless) I decided to come home and unwind. I have a horrible habit of dropping my things at the front door and reading the mail while heading to my bedroom. The mail is inevitably junk but I insist on reading every single piece just to make sure. So I read the pizza coupons and upcoming sales at Victoria Secret and chuck them to the side before plopping down on my bed in the newly appointed bedroom.

Wait...I should explain.

Long story short: I got tired of hearing the water drip in my original bedroom from the air conditioner so I decided to move EVERYTHING to the guest room/office. I am surprisingly strong for a little person. But back to the story at hand...

Typically I get off work earlier than my friends on Fridays, one of the many perks to my job. It is good when I have errands to run and people to see but on this particular Friday I had nothing to do - and that bothered the bejebus out of me.

So I log in to check my bank account and other mindless tasks I do on the internet to waste time. I decided to send my friend a music video from the 90s to get this weekend started off right. I searched for his page and clicked on the 'add video' button - wait, whats this?! An option to record a video right there on his wall from your web cam? GENIUS! A million ideas started running through my head: do I give a weather report from the -24 zip or should I send 5 minutes of me blankly staring at the webcam to give him the feeling that Im ALWAYS watching.

No wait, I got it. 90s techno lip syncing. Good gravy there is no way that could be awful! But what song? There were so many greats from the 90s including below:



Or how about this gem:



But my heart belonged to another band. One might say they were the REAL MCCOY...



So after listening to the song and uncontrollably punching the sky, I had to take to the webcam and record the joy I was feeling so my friend could share in the fun too! For those of you who have known me, this is not out of the ordinary. One of the perks of living alone is that I can lip sync in my mirror like I am 12 every morning and no one can judge me, so suck it Trebek.

I lip synced and danced my little heart out while the webcam filmed every awkward dance move. I am so cool, there is no way he won't appreciate this. I clicked send and giggled in anticipation to hear his reaction. The giggling stopped when I recieved a notification that my friend commented "WTF". WTF? Not really what I was thinking the first comment would be, I was hoping more along the lines of "What a masterpiece" - but whatever, I will take it.

What bothered me about the "WTF" post was that I did not think he was friends with my victim. In fact I couldnt recall a time when they could have ever met. I scoured through the 'common friends' page to prove that he, in fact, did not know who the video was intended for. Shit. This means that anyone who is lucky enough to be friends with me now has the power to view my masterpiece and comment on it. Double shit.

As of right now there have been 9 comments, most have been negative and encouraging me to get a hobby or revert back to being a wallflower. There has been one person who liked it though! Oh wait, that was me....damn. Its fine, my ego has not been bruised one bit because deep down I know that people thought it was a glorious piece of work and the effects of jealousy should be setting in any minute now.