70/365. Never Want To See This Again.

This is the sun rising up over Dallas...well...a little north of Dallas. You know...north enough for us to be able to "use approved electronic devices".

I wish I had posted this when it was a little fresher in my head, but I've pretty much been out of it ever since. Here is the short version...or not.

We were supposed to go from Orange County to Dallas to Milwaukee. Well...thanks to some massive winds and thunderstorms in Dallas, our original OC flight was cancelled. Then our next flight was delayed by a little over an hour. No big deal, right? No. Still plenty of time to get our connecting flight to Milwaukee!

So we get to Dallas and find out that our flight out of there was also delayed by a little over an hour. Again...no big deal. We'll grab some food and head to our gate.

And then our gate changed. And then it changed again. And again. And again. And - I kid you not - no less than 4 more times. Maybe more. It's hard to say. I was getting the updates on my phone - which was nice at first, but then became a curse. After the 5th change, we stopped moving. Corey woke up VERY sick that morning and hello...I'm mega-pregnant. Anyway...all these gate changes can't be good, right? Right.

Text message tone rings again...our flight has been cancelled. OH HELL NO. Apparently there was zero visability in Milwaukee due to fog. So I'm on the phone with American Airlines (an airline I never want to fly on again, by the way) trying to figure out when we can get out of there because it is getting late at this point. What does she tell me? Well...one of us can get out tomorrow night, and the other on friday. This was WEDNESDAY. Say it with me, people. OH HELL NO.

We had to work the next (not to mention the next night at my part time job) and the fact that I'd already had to take a day unpaid for the trip (and another unpaid day from the food poisoning) was going to make for some ugliness all around. So the very unhelpful chick on the phone tells me to go to a ticket counter and see if they can get me something else. Uh...thanks. Of course by now the ticket counter lines are Disneyland-deep by now.

Ticket counter guy confirms it... 1) They can't get us out on the same flight together because our reservation wasn't made together, and 2) We can't get home until tomorrow night. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. Oh, and they can't put us up in a hotel room...we have to pay for it ourselves. But here! Have this really crappy discount at the Holiday Inn Select! Thanks.

And then, maybe because I was being extra nice (really, I was!), or maybe because we looked extra pathetic with Corey being so sick and my being so pregnant...the skies opened up, unicorns flew down on rainbows, and the dude got us both on the 6:00am flight direct from Dallas to Milwaukee. YAY...but not really.

So we wait for the shuttle with eleventy other people...for about an hour. It finally comes. We get on the freeway, and the driver starts out with "Oh...by the way, for those of you that are leaving early...our shuttle service doesn't start until 6 am, so if you need to be at the airport early, you'll have to take a cab!"

Uh. Awesome. "How far is the hotel from the aiport then?" we ask.

"17 or 18 miles!"

STFU. Are you kidding?

Awesome.

We get to the hotel and immediately try to crash, because by this time it is getting close to midnight. Except...Corey can't stop coughing. Neither of us slept for longer than *maybe* 30 minutes at a time at the most, and the alarm went off at 4. I had already given up and gotten in the shower by then. Miserable.

$65 dollars of hotel, a $40 cab ride, and no sleep later...we got ourselves to the airport at 5 am. We were home and in bed by 10 am. I was going to try to go in to work at noon so as to only miss a half day's pay. Yeah...I woke up at 3. So much for that work day.

Oh, and Corey forgot his phone in the hotel room. We're still waiting for it to find its way home.

About that road trip we took. Part 1

It's that time of the month again.

The time where I remember I have this blog that I used to be pretty good about and figure I should post something.  Today that something is going to be our road trip that we took for our first anniversary.  Our first anniversary that was in JULY.  TWO MONTHS AGO.

Sigh.

I'm so behind here.

So maybe taking a road trip isn't everyone's romantic cup o' tea to celebrate an anniversary,  neither is camping for your honeymoon...but it's ours.  We're just like that.  Plus, we don't have a lot of money, and probably never will.  It's a good thing we're easily amused!

Anyway...our road trip's major destinations were Mt. Rushmore and Yellowstone National Park.  From Milwaukee.

Yeah, it's a long drive.

Which is why we did it in one smokin' hot rental car.

So what kinds of things does one amuse oneself with when on the road for 14 or so hours at a time?

A normal passenger would probably sleep or read.  Kids might play that game where you try to get through the alphabet by finding the letters on license plates while blasting The Ramones on their walkman.  Or, at least that's what kids used to do back in the 70's, 80's...early 90's.

Before backseat DVD players and PSP's and wtf-ever else brats are toting around these days.  Those things that I totally plan on having for my kids so they might not ask if we're there yet 800 times.

At least I'm honest.

And ummm...the kid blasting The Ramones on the road trip...not me, I swear.  Way too cool for that.

Ok, I'm lying.

What was my point?  I probably didn't have one.

Oh.  Yeah.  Armed with a camera and eleventy hours of road in front of us, I give you this masterpiece.

What is that?  It is license plates from all but 13 states.  Even half of Canada is represented, eh.  AND! I even managed to find Alaska and Hawaii.  Impressive, no?  

And how the F did I miss WISCONSIN?  Of all plates?

I'm also missing Connecticut, Delaware, Indiana, Louisiana, Maine, Maryland, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, South Carolina, Tennessee, and Vermont.  I'm not surprised about New Hampshire or Rhode Island since only like 3 people live in each state.  Hi Renee!  Connecticut went unspotted as well, but I KNOW I saw the rest.  Bummer.  I need to be a little quicker on the draw I guess. 

I got a lot of strange looks from strange people while taking up this temporary hobby.  I think that is what made me keep doing it.

Anyway, mark this post down as the most pointless vacation post ever.  Just trying to weed out the weak blog readers.  The ones who weren't sure if I was a total waste of their precious google reader time or not ;) 

San Diego, Part 2: Easter

Saturday afternoon the girls and I made a last minute trip to the grocery store because really, how could we not color eggs and hide them when we're all in one place at Easter for once? Well, as you can probably guess, the egg coloring kits were slim-pickings by that time. Our choice was between Tinkerbelle and Disney Princesses. Obviously, we went with Tinkerbelle. We aren't the Disney Princess type of girls.

Below is a collage of the girls coloring, the result, some of the pretty flowers blooming in the yard, and one very zen kitty.

I can't get over how grown up the girls are getting. A. is getting beautiful and so nice, normal, and easy going. B. is kind of in an awkward stage, not to mention a little bit of a bitch. Yes, I just called my 11 year old sister a bitch. Don't get me wrong, I love her to pieces, but man...I hope she grows out of this. And soon, for the sake of everyone around her. She's a smart kid though - once she is outside of the house, everyone thinks she is the sweetest, kindest, most well spoken child in all the land. Master of disguise, that one.

(click picture to enlarge)

San Diego, Part 1: Sunrise, Sunset

Sorry it took me so long to blog (and by "blog" I mean show off my pictures) from the 9 days I spent in San Diego earlier this month. Look forward to several small and probably obnoxious posts of pictures and collages :)

I left Milwaukee on April 10th, but got to see this beautiful sunrise before I took off:



And here is the sunset from my mom's bedroom balcony that welcomed me on my first night there. There is about a week this time of year that the sun sets just right in between the trees and you can just make out the Catalina Islands for a few minutes. It was too cloudy for that this first night.

Florida!

Oh hai!

So it's been awhile. I've been busy with...well...everything. I won't get into all that now. For the most part it's the same old song and dance - except for some things with my mom. I'll talk about that sometime when there is a little more to know.

In the mean time...I went to Florida! I wish I had written this post sooner - I would have felt more motivated to include more details. I needed a break, and a long weekend in Venice, Florida for a friend's baby shower was the perfect opportunity. There were 12 of us down there all together - all Freaky Internet Friends. Yes, I flew somewhere and met weirdos from the internet.

This was a group of people that I have talked to (online, on the phone, and some in person) for over 2 years now. We've grown incredibly close and I think that many of us know more about each other than we know about some of our closest friends (and that our closest friends know about us). That's nothing against our original friends - it's just more of an open forum of randomness and it all gets put out there...on a private message board of course.

Anyway, it was great to meet these women and to have so many of us in one place all weekend long and to celebrate with Vanessa at her baby shower. We spent a lot of time at the beach (and at Target), and the shower was a blast. I might have overindulged a bit at the shower - but in my defense, it wasn't your typical baby shower. There was men and alcohol and horseshoes! Not that I care about the men and the horseshoes, but booze is a change from your typical baby shower.

But what, you ask, could inspire me to overindulge at a baby shower? Well...I was on track for a night full of fun with the girls and a steady beer buzz...until V's aunt asked me when MY baby was due.

Umm...

Yeah.

Not pregnant.

At least not that I know of.

I always wondered how I would respond to that question if asked, since it is no secret that I've put on some weight. I, like both of my parents, tend to carry my extra weight in my belly. Regardless, I thought for sure my answer to this very rude and assuming question would be "I'm not pregnant, I'm just fat." but I couldn't muster that. First I stood there in disbelief...then I squeaked out something along the lines of "...I'm....not........uhhh...........pregnant." She was caught off guard. After a long pause, she stammered out something like "Oh...well...with the shirts girls wear these days it's hard to tell."

Yeah, right lady.

Luckily I recover quickly and have a sense of humor. Not to toot my own horn, but not everyone would have handled it as well I don't think.

But boy was I thirsty after that. For beer. More beer.

Although in hindsight, I was standing there blatantly drinking a beer while she asked me that. So...not only did she think I was pregnant, she obviously thought I looked classy enough to be the kind of showing-pregnant chick to stand there and drink Budweiser from the can. Fantastic.

Anyway...I had something else I was going to talk about, but telling that story again has distracted me to the point of no return I think. So instead, here are some pictures. We spent a lot of time at the beach, so obviously I played with my camera a lot. Apparently I have the ability to summon dolphins and the uncanny ability to get a certain camera shy German shepherd to be my supermodel.

If you click on the collage, it will open up larger in a new window. You can also get a glimpse of my version the shirts I made for everyone in honor of "Hoarstock '09". If I remember correctly, and you're curious, "Hoar" is a reference to an inside joke about some spoiled crazy girl on the wedding site who didn't like an answer someone (or several someones...one of them might have been me) gave when she asked advice about some family drama that she created because people weren't all excited for HER special day.

Obviously, when you don't like an answer or answers someone gives you, you call them a bunch of "hoars". It has been a group nickname ever since.

Travel Disasters: 2008 Holiday Edition...or 36 Hours at Grandmas....or Portland Tales: Things I Couldn't Make Up If I Tried

Several possible titles here.  I'm indecisive.

(Sorry about the formatting problems - I tried to fix it to no avail)

Some of you may remember our trip to the west coast for Christmas.  Originally, we were flying from Milwaukee (MKE) to Minneapolis, than Minneapolis (MSP) to San Diego (SAN).  Well...before we got on the flight in MKE, they told us that MSP was shut down.  That flight was supposed to continue on to Portland (PDX), so they decided to just make the flight from MKE to PDX and allow anyone affected to get on that flight and then catch a flight to their final destination from there. 

The prospect of spending a few hours in Portland and maybe at least being able to have dinner with my dad (who I hadn't seen in 3 years) was exciting!  I also knew there was a storm coming to Milwaukee so waiting for a flight that might be cancelled the next day wasn't sounding appealing - I figured we'd never even make it to the west coast!  I knew Portland was having some weather too, but I figured if we were going to get stuck somewhere, lets get stuck with my family! Right?!?!

By the time we got there, we knew that we couldn't get a flight until the next day, so my dad would be picking us up and we'd all go stay the night at my grandma's.  Of course my luggage was no where to be found.  When I told Corey the night before how much it costs to check baggage, his response was "F**k that, I'll pack it all in my backpack."  There was no way I could pack a weeks worth of my crap in a carry-on so I opted to pay the $15 to check a suitcase.  Whoops.  There's a mistake I may never make again.

ANYWAY.

It was AWESOME to see my dad, and so nice to finally meet his girlfriend.  It's been a long time since he and another person have been able to stand each other's crap for a significant length of time.  After a long, obnoxious attempt and figuring out where my luggage might be (they had no idea - everything was chaos), we headed off to grandma's house.

Portland (all of the northwest actually) was having it's own share of weather.  Weather it was NOT prepared for.  Yes, a foot of snow sucks everywhere and slows things down...but in Portland...it STOPS.  Hell, it stops with much less than that.  They don't have many plows there and very few people know how to drive in it.  Everyone drives in the snow with chains on.  I remember when I moved to Wisconsin, I asked Corey if we needed to buy chains for our cars.  He looked at me like I was nuts.  Now...I understand why.

A road would never look like this for more than a day (maybe even a half-day) in Wisconsin.  This road stayed like this for several days.

Anyway, I digress.

I knew that being snowed in at my grandma's house with my dad, grandma, 2 druncles (drunk-uncles...we'll call them J and R), and druncle J's girlfriend and her best friend (we'll call them JK & T)would leave very few dull moments.  We ended up being there from Saturday night until Monday morning.  My dad spent the weekend cheering on the crappy weather, while my mom in San Diego spent it with her heart breaking a little with each cancelled flight.  That made me feel a little awkward.

I know I've forgotten some of the stories I had planned and things I was going to mention but I'll do my best.  Pardon the randomness.

You would not believe the sheer amount of alcohol my druncles and the girls can put down.  My dad doesn't drink very often or in large quantities anymore, but he did over this particular weekend.  Why, you ask?  Not because it was there or available.  Not because it was a party or a special occasion (although those are valid reasons).  Not because he has a problem (he doesn't).  No...my dad had to drink like that because that is the only way he can tolerate all of druncle J & R's (and JK & T's) crap and sheer ridiculousness.  It's a simple, sad, fact.  And trust me...Corey and I felt the pain (aka - irritation, annoyance, and rapidly declining patience) from not trying to keep up with the drunk-Joneses. 

Let's display some obvious intoxication in photos, shall we?

 

So now that we've proven that...

Not long after this picture was taken, druncle J got up and went downstairs.  I was sitting on the couch next to my grandma (sorta like this):

After druncle J left, I saw that his pipe had fallen out of his pocket and was left on the chair.  I pretended not to notice so as not to draw my grandma's attention to it (I'm a good niece, no?).   Druncle R then came upstairs to warm up by the fire.  He notices what druncle J left behind...but of course has to mention it.  "Hey, look what J forgot!"  Grandma: "Whose keys are those?" (long pause as druncle R and I snicker like mischievious bratty little kids) "Well...!  Is that a PIPE?!?!  R, you march that pipe down to J and tell him that if I see it again I'm going to SHOVE IT UP HIS ASS!!!"

Now...my grandma just doesn't talk like that, making it extra hilarious.  Druncle R started to do as he told, but the prospect of being the one to relay this information to druncle J was much too much to pass up.  I told him, "allow me." and took it on down there.  The laughter from downstairs carried right back up to the livingroom. 

The following night, druncle R, my dad, and the neighbor were out in the back yard to check it out since it had momentarily stopped snowing.  My grandma has a pool in the backyard.  Druncle R went and stood on the deep end and was trying to clear the snow off of the frozen ice because apparently there was a nerf football frozen in the ice down there and it was superduperimportant that he find it and show them right then.  Meanwhile, the neighbor is having a smoke (of the legal variety) and my dad is standing down at the shallow end watching druncle R stand on the ice.  Dad thinks to himself, "Hmm...R is standing on it down there..." and takes one step on to the ice.  It feels solid enough.  So he brought the other foot on...

WHOOOSH!

It was like a trap door opened up underneath him.

"Uhh...guys...a little help here?"  My dad had just fallen through a pool up to his chest and druncle R and the neighbor didn't hear or see it!  They heard something faint, but it really didn't make much noise.

So what does druncle R do?  He runs over to my dad.  Correction:  he runs ACROSS THE FROZEN POOL THAT CRACKED to help yank him out.  SMART.

Luckily, he didn't fall in.  This story would have been 1000 times funnier if he had.  In this photo (obviously taken after the fact) you can see the hole my dad fell in AND the footsteps going across the pool. 

Apparently the 50 lbs and 12 inch differences between the two of them is juuuust enough to keep one out of the pool and not the other.  Here he is drying off and warming up by the fire.

Later that same night, druncle J called up a friend he used to work with that was now delivering pizza to see if they were open that night.  Yes, they were, but they'd have to order soon.  Druncle J orders the pizza, pizza guy/friend shows up with his wife that he picked up on the way.  Interesting.  Anyway, so they stay and chat for awhile and when they go to leave...they can't.  His Ford F150 (or something similar) was stuck in the snow in front of the house.  Druncles go out to help and grandma and I start watching the idiotic show from the window.  Dad and Corey don't give a sh*t and are watching TV.  The pizza guy is out there burning out his tires in the snow like a moron. 

After about 10 loooong minutes, the show starts getting old.  I tell my dad and Corey (the only people with braun AND brains in the whole bunch) that they should probably get out there and help.  Dad gets up to put shoes on, and Corey walks out the door. I follow behind, stopping to grab my camera on the way out.  Apparently those extra few seconds I took were too long, because by the time I got out there...

...Corey had already gotten the guy out of the driver's seat, gotten the truck out, and was on his way back in.  All Wisconsin style and sh*t!  I was very proud. 

Everyone else was stunned.  What they couldn't accomplish in 10 minutes was done by Corey in seconds.  My dad came outside and my druncles were looking around and at the same time all of them said, "Where'd Corey go?"  I told them he was already in the house on the couch watching tv.  Druncles and company where stunned and impressed.  Dad just laughed and laughed and said, "That's how it's done, boys."  Classic.

Now let's meet Nilo. 

Nilo is a perfectly nice normal cat...until you pet him.  Because for the love of God...if you pet Nilo "wrong"...

...you are in for a world of hurt. 

After dealing with this occasionally batsh*t crazy cat too many times to count, my reflexes took over.

I was sitting with my dad, glass of water in my left hand, right hand hanging over, when Nilo decided to rub himself on my right hand.  At first I didn't trust him, but he seemed ok...until all of a sudden he snapped.  In one fluid motion, my left hand shot out and dumped a half full glass of water in his face.  It tok me a minute to even realize what I had done.  Hell, it took NILO a minute to even realize what I'd done.  He gave me the funniest most shocked look I've ever seen on a cat (as far as feline expressions go, anyway), before he took off and never came near me again.  I wish I had a picture of it, but it sort of resembled this:

That's pretty much all I can remember.  Like I said before, I hadn't been to Portland in 3 years (and haven't lived there since 1995), so I had managed to conveniently forget that I have one of those touchy feely family that kisses hello and goodbye on the lips, holds hands, and is just kind of cuddly in general.  I've joked about this with people before, but at THEIR families expense...completely forgetting that I had one of my own.  Karma maybe? Who knows.  Up until the end of our time there, I just kind of sucked it up (for lack of a better term) and went with the flow, but it was so foreign to me that I had to say something.  Of course feelings were a little hurt, which in turn made me feel like a jerk.  In the end I agreed to not be a total frigid b*tch, as long as they could understand how awkward it was to sit across the room from my husband but holding someone elses hand or have someone elses arm around me. 

The art of compromise is weird sometimes.

Anyway, we finally made to to San Diego on Monday night after countless flight changes and delays.  Here is a pic of the beautiful sunset over Catalina Island as we were decending...

I promise my next installment will be shorter, but maybe a little heavier on pictures.  I've still got San Diego and Christmas to write about!

How to fart in a moving crowd: PDX edition.

Step 1: Walk faster until you find a couple of old men walking together.

Step 2: Get right behind them.

Step 3: Let her rip.

Step 4: Make a weird face and pretend they aren't moving fast enough for you.

Step 5: Pass them and disappear.

Say Cheese!

Good times at PDX

For those of you not in the know, we headed to the Milwaukee airport a little over 48 hours ago, San Diego bound.

Where did we end up Saturday night?  Portland, Oregon. 

Where are we now - 2 days later? Portland, Oregon.

Where is my luggage? Good question.  I'll let you know when I find out. 

As most of you who read this blog know, I was born and raised in Portland until age 16.  98% of my family lives here, including my dad.  In the span of about 36 hours in this town, I have some awesome stories.  Holiday travel nightmares and my dad's side of the family never disappoint.

For now I just thought I'd check in.  The stories are going to have to come later, either one-by-one or in a massive wall of words (complete with photographic evidence!).

Our current flight was set to take off at 10:45.  Then 12:00.  Then 12:50.  Now they tell us 1:33.  If are REALLY bored (or a deranged psycho stalker), go to Alaska Air's flight status and enter flight number 574.

In the last 2 hours I've had 2 dogs and 2 babies barf on the carpet within 5 feet of me.

Think of all the fun stuff that could be lingering on this floor.

I have the good seat on the floor next to the window.  I'm sure I'm catching the syph as we speak (write, whatever).

Anyway.

Cross your fingers that we (and my luggage) get to San Diego sometime today.  I could really use some fresh chonies.

Jessica just offered to email me some of these.  Best Christmas evah!

I'm going to brag about my mom for a minute or 10.

I realized that it's been a LONG time since I transferred any of my pictures over to my external hard drive and that my picture folders are all in chaos.  I found this pic of my mom - I think it is from about a year ago - when she got to fly in a fighter jet. 

You see, my mom is a top government sales person for a major wireless company, and all of her clients are the USMC, DoD, Homeland Security....those type of folks.  She gets to do awesome things on a regular basis because 1) She is badass at her job, and 2) She has badass clients.  Recently she was able to go fire military weapons on a marine corps base in southern California.  She also gets special passes to watch the annual Miramar Air Show and hang out (and eat) with all the generals and other high ranking officers in their special fancy-pants tent.  The Blue Angels pilots even come in there after they are done flying. 

Another completely awesome thing...

My mom might be winning a trip to Rome sometime in 2009.  If my step-dad doesn't want to go (which is VERY likely, oddly enough) guess who is next in line to be her guest? Yep.  ME.  M-E.  That would rock my world.  She sent me a link to the hotel we'd be staying at and it looks AMAZING.  I've always wanted to go there and we'd have so much fun together.  My mom and I aren't very far apart in age - I'm 30, she is 47.  Plus, my step-dad probably wouldn't appreciate all the cool history and stuff there is to see in Rome.

And how could I forget get this little morsel of goodness?!?

A few days ago she was invited to go to all of Obama's inauguration festivities!  Sure, she's a republican (as am I) and probably didn't vote for him (but...*gasp*...I did - sshhh...don't tell!  Hi Aunt Jodi!), but so what?  It's HISTORY IN THE MAKING, people!  Who passes that up?  NO ONE.

I wonder if she'll need a date for that one...

Anyway, I will end this post with a sweet pic of my mom and I straight out of the 80's:

PS.  Happy birthday Grandma Joyce (even though you don't read this and probably don't know what the hell a blog is)!