Eatin' Good in the Neighborhood

Everyone has a bad date story. Believe me, I’ve had my share of horror. It has always been a toss up between two dates:
1) The date that lasted a total of 1 hour from pick up to drop off and included dinner at Rumbi’s (one of my least favorite places to eat).

And
2) The marathon date that lasted 10 hours and felt like 20 years.

And then last night came and sealed the deal… crowning itself worst date in HISTORY! Honestly, if there would have been a Hudson, I would have ditched…

Chad (29) assured me that he could remember the two lefts and a right it took to get from the freeway to my house; he couldn’t so I ended up walking to the nearest major street for a pick up…. I felt like a hooker…. Strike 1.

Chad didn’t have any plans, but REALLY had his heart set on Applebee’s… WHERE I PAID … Strike 2,3, 4, 5 and 6. but, being the chivalrous man that he was, he offered to leave the tip, making it clear he only offered because he “happen to have 5 bucks in [his] wallet that [his] dad had given [him]”… Strike 7.

After I paid the tab, Chad wanted to go miniature golfing, Mulligans and Boondocks were both closed for the evening (whew! I saved another 20 bucks!), so Chad decided to take the opportunity to ask me a few questions about myself (the first of the night.. 2.5 hours into the date). He asked a total of 3 and not wanting too much information, stuck to the usual get to know you questions, “Where do you work?” “Do you have a degree?” “Do you own you’re place?” and then proceeded to chastise me for “wasting” my money on a college degree and for buying a townhome. Chad rents, but if he didn’t, he assured me he wouldn’t throw his money away on a townhome that “looks like an apartment”. Hmm…. I get the feeling chad doesn't like to throw his money away on anything… even his favorite meal at Applebee’s…Strike, 21, 22…. 39, 40.

He obviously wasn’t into me (feelings were mutual), which is fine, I’ve read the book and seen the movie, I realize I’m the rule… but Chad felt the need to drag the date on and suggested finding a park. At this point, I felt I’d put out enough for the night and asked Chad to take me home.

He literally dropped me off. I don’t know if I was expecting/wanting him to walk me to the door; he hadn’t opened one door for me all night, so walking me to the door was a bit of a s-t-r-e-t-c-h, but something in me was still holding out for some inkling of goodness in him… and men in general… Strike 88.

Did I mention Chad’s a HUGE Prince fan Strike 99, 100.

When You're Good To Mama...

It started out as a typical vacation. As usual someone in my party, this time Stacey, was felt up by airport security (when is it going to be mine turn already…..) and propositioned to remove some necessary article of clothing (again, when is it going to be my turn?). Typical didn’t last long; as I took my seat on the plane, I notice a rather svelte (comparatively) t.v. celebrity boarding the plane with me…. DAN FROM THE BIGGEST LOSER!!! Of course I approached at baggage claim for a picture. He gladly removed his headphones (he was “jamming out to Blake Shelton”) for the picture and proceeded to carry on a conversation with me… I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty sure he was smitten and too afraid to ask for my number (where is Dana when I need her!)

Of course the trip included a few of our favorite past times, no we didn’t get in a Cubs game or apple pie, but close, shopping and eating (I know, awesome choice after meeting a former Biggest Loser.)

Food consumption Highlights:

Grand Luxe: Not a Chicago original, but…baked- to order beignets, hot from the deep fryer, covered in powdered sugar and served with three dipping sauces . Stacey went to town on the Jack Daniels cream sauce… she’s such a lush.
Ginos East: Deep Dish Chicago Style Pizza and was everything I hoped it would be. We went for the meaty legend (shocker right) we threw in a side salad to prevent scurvy.

Before
After...

Billy Goat Tavern: You may recognize it from the Saturday Night Live skit. Don’t try and order anything other than the double cheezeborger you won’t get it... no fries, cheeps; no Pepsi; Coke….
Gibson’s Steakhouse: Meat sweats ensued… Our server assistant (I’m sure there’s a fancy title for this) also smuggled us two new bottles of the Gibson’s house season salt and instructed us to put the one on the table in our purse. (It’s amazing what a little cleavage and a lap dance will get you (don’t worry Stacey I won’t tell Todd what a whore you are))

And of course we had to hit up breakfast... At this point, we were eating through the pain.

As if the amount of meat I consumed wasn’t enough to send me into a premature death, Stacey tried to finish me off. I think she was jealous that in Chicago, I’m apparently pretty (at least the homeless man Aundre thought so… maybe because he wanted change (the monetary kind, not what Obama promised.))

My trip to Chicago would not have been whole without a trip to the Field Museum. Complete with Sue the Dinosaur, an Ancient Egypt exhibit and my favorite (Nerd Alert!) the Man-eaters of Tsavo (Ghost and the Darkness anyone… ANYONE????). Here are few other “exhibits.”

Who Gnu…. Really, it’s a Gnu!

Sue the Dinosour, (Stacey's in the black, not Sue.)

Roar!

Practicing what Stacey taught me...

Me and Micheal Jackson. Apparently he's Egyptian (or his doppleganger.)

We were in Chicago a little longer than anticipated due to “weather delays” (weather delays my ass! It was barely raining) at the airport. Luckily we were able to keep ourselves entertained with another American pastime…people watching. A few treasures:

The old lady in purple scrunch socks reading a book (we’ll call her Marge): I’m not exactly sure what the book was, something called “Cobra Eye” which I like to pretend was some kind of smutt novel....which turned out to be pretty fitting. Stacey and I filled in the blanks of what she was reading and just as we finished the part where “his rippled chest quivered as he unbuttoned her top” Marge closed the book, rubbed her upper thigh, ran her fingers through her hair, took a deep breath, complete with a sigh and exclaimed “oh boy!”… apparently Marge was getting a little hot.

The terrorist: I almost sent Stacey to get TSA as I performed a citizen’s arrest. I mean the man was constantly leaving his bag unattended, wandering around and talking on his cell phone. Stacey SWEARS she heard him mention torpedoes…. We’re lucky we made it home alive and so is he!

The hot dog corner of shame: Its kind of self explanatory, but we saw no less than 4 people, within an hour, sit down on the same chair in the same corner to self consciously inhale their hotdog while nervously looking around to make sure their char dog consumption went unnoticed… It didn’t… and to make matters worse I was the first to suggest the corner to consume my own hot dog ”incognito”…Shameful!

All around, I would have to say Chicago treated me well. We saw Jersey Boys, got caught in a few rain storms, froze our huevos off, saw the first Ferris Wheel (ok it was a replica) and site of the World Fair and walked our asses off. Let’s just say, fashionable shoes are not an option in Chicago; I recommend flip flops... and a rain coat..

Exercise is Good for Depression...

I did it! 13.1 miles of running bliss(ters), one hell of a hill and a near shant…. but I did it!
What was my favorite part you may ask; the thing that would push me through and keep me coming back for more?

Was it the euphoria; the feeling of accomplishment?

Was it the friends cheering me on along the way, or knowing my family was waiting for me at the finish line?

Perhaps the adrenaline rush, the thousands of people, or the excitement of the race?

No! it was the man standing outside his house grilling and passing out bacon to the runners…. Nothing like the smell of bacon at Mile 6.5…

2 hrs 15 minutes, including the Honey Bucket stop and a severe chest cold, but I pushed through. According to runningworld.com I could shave 8.30 off my time if I’d lose 20 lbs….OUCH! guess It’s a good thing I passed on the bacon.

As Serious As A Heart Attack

I received a work email today from a man who says he is blind... now I'm not trying to "dis"ability, but if you're blind:

A) how are you typing this email and
B) how do you plan on reading my response?

Am I missing something?

Other Than That

Blame it on the weather, the lack of sunlight, P.M.S, hunger, S.A.D, el nino, the economy, and/or global warming, but I've noticed my last few posts have had a bit of a negative undertone. TODAY, I've decided to try something new. I'm giving this optimism thing a whirl, SO:

Despite waking up at 6 a.m. to SNOW. Despite the scale showing a 2 lb weight gain when I’m really trying to make it go the other way. Despite running out of hairspray and having my replacement hairspray smell like old lady perfume. Despite my FAVORITE cottage cheese being on sale at Albertson's and SOLD OUT. Despite missing the first half of the Biggest Loser and not knowing if Mike pulled through with a 10 lb weight loss. Despite a painful dental visit WITHOUT Novocain or laughing gas. Despite my phone bill coming in at $100. Despite dropping one of my fake diamond stud earrings and rummage through the garbage to recover it. Despite being called “sexy” by an OLD man at the gym. Despite a broken toilet seat and despite my pico de gallo being frozen... this was just the kind of day I was hoping for…

Baby.... Ruth!?

I went to the dentist today. He removed a cap on one of my pearly whites by drilling a crevice into the cap and shoving a flat blade screwdriver -literally- in the crevice and wrenching it until it snapped apart…

I’m generally hard to numb, GENERALLY!... today, the dentist gave me enough Novocain to cripple a rino. I am numb up to my eyeballs and I look like a stroke victim! Not just any stroke victim, a stroke victim with a Jewel snaggle tooth (the temporary cap on my nubbin of a tooth doesn’t blend... AT ALL).

I couldn’t justify skipping the gym due to my stroke, so I proceeded to Gold’s to lift. This proved TERRIFYING when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror during a difficult bicep curl and with the strained face I looked like Sloth from Goonies….

Basically, I look like the drunk lady who's face was eaten off by her dog....If you just can’t quite get the visual, imagine if these three bred….

Lint Licker

Can we just talk for a second about the ass hat who, just because he drives a Mercedes, finds it necessary to park on an severe angle and take up two parking stalls. I understand not wanting a door ding on your shinny, 50K+ silver convertible, but park at the back of the parking lot dill hole, it's 20 degrees outside and I'm in heels.

I Don't Think You're Ready for This Jelly.

Whenever Kate and I travel together, people always ask if we are twins. Portland was no different, so rather than explain the whole situation, we’ve just decided to go with it. I guess the fact that we ended up wearing the exact same shirt and exact same hair do on the exact same day, didn’t really help… pure accident I promise.

Its hard to really pinpoint my favorite part of the trip, it was just all so good, so I’ve opted to just highlight a few of the… well… highlights.

Patrick stopped me in the Portland airport just to say “Hi” apparently he works for a music label in L.A. with “high profile clients” similar to Taylor Swift and staring in High School Musical. Since my vocal skills aren’t up to par, I’d be happy to introduce anyone to Patrick who was shafted from this seasons American Idol.

Breakfast at Mother’s Bistro (lonely rider): Normally breakfast alone (no pun intended) would be enough, since it is my favorite meal of the day, but a breakfast consisting of coconut, macadamia nut pancakes… Heaven! Curtis, and army recruiter and Macey’s shoe salesman, stop by for breakfast as well. After an hour long discussion, I clarified that “No I was not a lesbian visiting Portland with my lover” “No I don’t care to join the Army and “Yes I would love a shoe hookup at Macey’s”. Curtis paid for my breakfast and we said our goodbyes.

Vodoo Dougnuts: The final stop on this years amazing race and perhaps one, or two (it was too good we had to go back), of the most interesting stops on the trip. It’s just a hop, skip and saunter through homeless row to get to this shady part of town, but worth the hepatitis risk. I settled for 2 pound banana fritter, glazed and then drizzled with chocolate and peanut butter and topped with chocolate chips and chopped peanuts. It took me about 12 hours to eat it, but I don’t regret it, my pants do, but not me.


The round 2 jaunt to Voodoo Doughnuts resulted in the following, somewhat one sided “conversation” with a random man on the street near homeless row:

• Scary Man (SM): Excuse me.
• Me (M): Yes?(said in a shaky, scared voice as I grabbed tighter to my bags)
• SM: Girl U is FINE!
• SM: U a member of the club.
• M: ahh… (quickly walking away)
• SM: U do know what club that is? (getting louder)
• SM: U DO KNOW WHAT CLUB THAT IS!
• M: What club (speed walking at this point and weighted down by my 2 lb doughnut.. pre-eating)
• SM: The BOOTYLICIOUS club baby! U can have ALL my money…
  At this point Kate and I were laughing so hard we could barely walk. I'm still not sure if bootylicious is a compliment or a low blow. On one hand, he compared me to Beyonce…. On the other… well…let’s just say maybe I should lay off the doughnuts.

Sorry Kate, you aren’t in this “exclusive club” with me and Destiny’s Child. Maybe try the “Savory” doughnut next time. Those 2 strips of bacon on top of the maple bar have got to add a few more calories,

And The Award Goes To...

Those of you who are from, or have ever been to Emery County, this may or may not come as a surprise to you. It’s a shinning example of the quality of life sustained in God’s Country.

This is an actual wedding announcement from the Emery County Progress (the county paper. You may recognize it from a previous post as it featured me running in the Turkey Trot, aka: Hell). I can’t quite figure out why it’s pertinent to Emery County since the lovely couple is from Richfield (a different county all together), unless is has something to do with the great, great, great grandparents who are dead... Hmm. Anyway, this couple is destined for success; quite the list of credentials, talents and life experience and if that’s not enough, just check out their breeding… quality stock!

*** Note: names have been changed for the purpose of this blog, I would hate for it to be found on a google search of the happy couple. (I didn't change the first names of the parents and grandparents. I couldn't make those up.) ***

Kathy Ray Pea and Ross Albert Wolf, both of Richfield, have chosen Jan. 3, 2009 to be married in the Manti LDS Temple. A reception will be held that evening in Richfield.
Kathy graduated from Richfield High School and Richfield LDS Seminary in 2007. She participated in speech and debate, and symphonic band. She is an alumni member of One Voice Community Audition Choir. She has been attending Utah Valley University.
Ross graduated from Richfield High School and Richfield LDS Seminary in 2006. He was a foreign language Sterling Scholar, the Spanish Club president, participated in cross county, and is a member of the Green Valley Cloggers and Clog America. He is a member of One Voice Community Audition Choir. He served an LDS mission to Puerto Rico.
Kathy is the daughter of Roy and Tina Pea, Richfield; the granddaughter of Lavan and Sharon Bearns, and the late Bruce Pea, Cedar Hills; Jean Bell and the late Elbert Bell, Ferron; and the great-granddaughter of Phebe Player and the late Cloye Player, Wellington.
Ross is the son of Stacy and Judy Wolf, Richfield; the grandson of Doug Wight and Kaye Lee, and the late Loraine Wine, Cedar City; and Reveau Wicks and the late Lavoy West, Sandy,

I bet Ross was an Eagle Scout too!
It must have been VERY sunny the day their picture was taken. Too bad Kath couldn’t part with the sunglasses long enough to snap the picture. But overall, the picture's not too bad.

Honorable Mention

This is another glowing couple announcing their love and devotion in the county paper.... don't squint, it won't improve the quality of the photo. It came that way.Yet, more proof that flannel is on its way back in.