Today, I have a happy. Jen’s laptop STB this morning, so she had to come into the office to have the IT guys replace it. Since she’s technically still an AcronymCo employee for two more months, they have to make sure she has a functional laptop with which to do her job hunting. I downright SQUEE’D when she popped into my cubicle. We went to lunch and got caught up on all the gossip, and we’ll be repeating that next week while I’m on vacation, a couple of days before I go visit Heather.
Speaking of Heather, she’s been periodically sending me, “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!” text-squee’s as the date of my visit gets closer (a week from Thursday!). It’s seriously cute.
Speaking of travelling and texting and whatnot, I activated my Twitter device update functionality, so I can tweet from my cell phone. This is in an effort to keep all of you guys up to date on the shenanigans we’ll be getting up to, both in Indiana/Illinois and on our Epic Roadtrip this summer. I’ll be communicating from the road, so be sure to either check my Twitter feed periodically (that link up there, or in the left-hand frame of this blog), or “follow” me if you have Twitter.
Anticipate a lot of drunken tweeting. A. Lot.
Speaking of being drunk, I was. For most of last weekend.
There’s a rated G description of our weekend on UpTake if you want the “acceptable for polite company” version…
I got SERIOUSLY FUCKED UP at the beer festival, a condition that was helped along by the fact that we visited TWO BARS before we even got to the festival. We had some time to kill before the festival opened, and there were all these bars around, so…
(I added some more pics to the set that I told you about on Sunday, by the way. And hover over the pics in this entry to see captions.)
Then we went to the actual beer festival, where we got sunburned and drunk at the same time…
And THEN, driving back down 89A to Sedona and our hotel room, Calvin stopped along the way to personally inspect a “sunshiny meadow”. And I was all Stumbleina and couldn’t make my feet work right and kept yelling, “Hold me up! Hold me up!” at Calvin as I grappled onto him and tried to get my balance (never happened) and he was all, “I can’t! I have to hold myself up!” And we crashed through the pretty ferns which turned out to be entwined with some sort of thorny plant and I cut my foot pretty bad and bled a lot but the whole thing was so damned funny that I laughed until my stomach hurt. All I could imagine was somebody observing us from up on the road, watching us crashing around and practically falling all over each other and laughing our asses off.
And Calvin was all, “QUIT TAKING MY PICTURE!”
And then I took a picture of my feet because they weren’t working right and I needed evidence:
And then, back on the road, I took, like, fifty of these kinds of shots:
And a bunch of these out the sunroof:
And, oh, this unfortunate shot:
And by the time we got to our hotel room I was REALLY ready for a nap.
An hour later we got up and out again, grabbed some dinner, and wandered around for a while looking for something to do. Which is how we ended up at Olde Sedona. Because of the aforementioned drunk-fest, I declined to drink any further that evening, so I got the happy opportunity to be the only sober person, watching a club full of not-sober people do their thang. We grabbed seats out on the patio, just off the bar and dance floor, and watched the antics of the crowd.
You guys. There was this woman that was making a total ass of herself. She was single, she was there by herself, she was desperate, and as the night wore on and the drinks were applied, she gained more and more chutzpah to start approaching any and all of the single men. Who did their best to avoid her, and exchanged “help me out, here” glances with each other when they did get trapped into conversation. Said conversation took place more and more inside the guy’s bubble space, with the leaning in and playfully smacking the arm and all that kind of crap. She even reached up and mussed one guy’s hair, and I saw him check an impulse to smack her hand. At one point she came out on yet another of her patrols of the patio, and three of the guys HID BEHIND A TREE together when they saw her coming. My hand to God.
Then she went back into the club and started writhing around on the floor. ON the floor. Like, on her back. We knew something was up because the attention of all the guys on the patio was suddenly arrested at the view through the doorway, and cell phones started coming out to take pictures and video. We couldn’t see from where we were, so I got up to go over and peek in. I walked back to our table and said to Calvin, “Well, I know what color undies she’s wearing.”
“I Kissed A Girl” came on, and of COURSE she had to find some chick on the dance floor to make it with. Then she started dancing with some poor schmuck in the club, at which point the guys on the patio figured it was safe to go back inside and refresh their drinks, now that her attention was on someone else.
We figured the show was over, then, so we headed out, too. On our way out the door we passed the woman, who had trapped some poor guy on crutches up against the wall outside the bathrooms. I said to Calvin, “Poor guy, he couldn’t hobble fast enough to get away!” To which he replied, “Predators always cull the weakest away from the herd.”
Anyway. Mad fun weekend. And, no hangover! That right there was a miracle.
In closing, I adore my husband.
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