Things that make you go BERWARRALPHBLAHGARPPWPHBLA!

I had a rock and roll good time with one of my girl friends in Duluth this last weekend. So good in fact, it's taken me the better part of the week to recover and get around to writing about it.
We went to the best little lizard lounge in town on Saturday night and let it all hang out. We've both been feeling the pressures of life lately and decided we were destine to take a cab home that night... so we earned it.
The wine flowed, the champagne bubbled, the martinis shook — and so did we.
By the time the cabbie dropped me off, and I made damn sure he knew I have a special affinity for the Caprice Classic and its bench seat (no I did not make out with the cabbie...) I was spinning. And not in circles gleefully, the room was actually the one doing the spinning.
I was still having fun at this point... the spinning just added to the dance moves I was doing as I walked up my front steps.
A funny thought crossed my mind: I think I might puke.
I ignored this thought... I don't puke from drinking.
I got up to my room, and as all good drunks do, stripped down to my "pajamas."
The thought crossed my mind a second time.
I smiled, actually put my pjs on, and walked to the restroom... just to be safe.
Sitting in front of the toilet, I had pretty much convinced myself that I was going to be just fine.
Then, out of the corner of my eye I saw it. I little black pube wiggling on the shiny white porcelain.
I crossed my eyes, my stomach heaved and before I could say Red Star I was bootin'.
BLUFLAGHRABUPWAHBLAH!
I'm not sure if it was the booze of the pube... but the sight of it flipped a switch inside of me. The purge switch.
Funny thing about drunk pukin': it's not painful, you can't smell it, you can't taste it and it's actually a visually exhilaratingg experience. In fact, it pretty much feels like breathing... or carbomonoxide poisoning. Either way, in the end you're passed out on the floor.
I have to say it was all totally worth it. One of the most memorable nights (what fuzzy, funky parts I can recall) in Duluth. Next to the naked snow angels and the night where we had our way with the absent roomie's camera!

I may have spoken too soon...

Things are looking up on the job front.
For those who need a little back story: I have been applying for two jobs at Minnesota Public Radio in St. Paul... one was temp. one for a year.
Well... I am out for the temp. job but in for the yearly position. I have a station visit in April (code language for 8 hour interview.) But that's OKAY!
So... one congestive problem semi-sutified.

An update....
Things have been super congested for me lately. Almost every aspect of my life has been a question mark for the last week. So I have to shoot out an apology for a number of things.
Sorry for not returing any phone calls
Sorry for not returning any emails
Sorry for not updating Oh Roo!
Sorry (to my roomies especially) for being a crazy woman who doesn't pick up after herself

I am still hopeful that this job thing @ MPR will pan out.... at least then most of my congested life questions will be temporarily answered.

Oh Sh*t!

My roomies and I (and when I say roomies that includes a 6 yr old Swede) went to brunch on Saturday. We went to one of the friendly local joints with a doozy of a bloody mary bar and an eggs benedict that cures what ever's ailin' ya (and seeing as it was a Sat. there's a damn good chance it's a hangover.)
We were out to lunch because as a result of some faulty plumbing and some loosey-goosey floor boards- the contents of the toilet was in our oven.
Yuck.
As one friend suggested, if we would've simple turned the oven on ... instant "poop-overs."
I'll spare you the details....

Anyhow, while things were being fixed we thought to go to brunch and then to the hardware store for
A: a new plunger (get the one with the black bell-looking thing at the end people!!!)
and
B: LOTS AND LOTS of Lysol!

As we were out and about we saw a group of protesters marching down Superior St. (in honor of 3 yrs in Iraq)
We had just come out of the hardware store and were headed back to our car in the same general direction as the protesters. For a while, we were walking alongside of them - plunger over shoulder, cleaner in hand - and we just couldn't resist!
We stepped in to the crowd with our "props"
"We're sick of this shit!" shouted one roommate, black bell pumping up and down like the leader of a high school marching band.
"Clean up Iraq" shouted the other, Lysoling cars and the bricks on the street.
None of us felt strongly enough about Iraq to actually protest, but we did feel that we were pretty damn clever, and were happy we seized the moment.
We walked about one block with the protesters, until we politely exited at my car.

What fun.

As for the oven... well.... does anyone want to come over for dinner?!

The look of the Irish
I was walking in the skywalk today — here in sunny warm Duluth (warm being a relative term of course) and I was noticing how many people wore green today. And I'm not talking about school teachers here... proffesionals — bankers, lawyers, business people.
I wonder how many of these people are actually Irish... or even know anything about Ireland. If you ask me, in MN... St.Paddy's Day is simply a good excuse for a bunch of Scandinavian Lutherans to get drunk during the Lenten Season.
If these people insist on wearing green, it would be nice if they would choose a green that compliments their complexion. There is only one wee little man (namely a leprechaun) who actually looks good in true Kelly green. The rest of us just look like we have a hang-over.
As I continue through the skywalk, I pass the shamefully green —head to toe, ill fitting green velour leggings paired with an oversized ever-green sweater — to the subtly green — a grin that says "I'm wearing green underwear....but you can still pinch me if you wanna."
That's why these people are wearing green right? To avoid being pinched...
Some other St. Paddy's faves: the ever classy green carnation bouquet, the electronic lapel pin of a little fire crotch doing a jig, and of course.... green beer.
I have a very vivid memory of eating too many green bagels and green apple juice one St. Pat's Day when I was young.... the story ends with a giant stomach gurgle and then.... well, I'll leave the rest to your imagination.
Anyway, back to the skywalk... I'm almost to work and I see the most enthusiastic of them all! We're talking green Mardi-Gras beads, dangly green earrings and shamrock printed knee-highs. I give her a thumbs up and simply say, "you win." She smiles and wide — cause she knows she's kicked some green arse today.
As she walked away, I lowered my head to hide a bitchy giggle. Just as I was opening my eyes, a smirk still on my face, I looked down to realize I was wearing a beaded green tank top under my spring blazer.
Remove foot from mouth... insert green beer.

Last night....
was a great night. I got to visit with some friends that I don't get to see as often as I would like... and they are all pursing things that they are truly passionate about.
On friend, who works with developmentally disabled adults, helped with a play the clients from his job put on. The production was a take on Alice in Wonderland and was written so that the characters could have these breakout monologues about their real-life experiences. The crux of the play was what it would be like if you (a normal person) suddenly found yourself in a world where you were the outcast.
I have been blessed to get to know some of the clients and it was so touching to see them talking about their feelings... and the accomplishment after the show was over! The entire auditorium was just vibing with accomplishment.
Back to the friend... he was just beaming with pride over the actors. He spends most of his days "coaching" these people, but I know that they feel like his family. And I know that he feels like what he is doing is making a difference. And it is...
After the show I met up with a friend who is tirelessly trying to make a long distance relationship work. And it is. I got to meet the out-of -state fellow last night and we all had a blast. I'm so happy for this friend because she has found a man that can sit down with a group of her friends, some he has never met, and make it feel like we've all been friends for ages. This type of situation is the perfect experiment to find out if the fit is right. It clearly is.
Even later that night was greeted by some friends that came to stay from St. Cloud. This friend is about to celebrate the first birthday of her daughter. She is such an amazing mother and her little one is surely one of the lovliest babies ever. She (well both mom and daughter actually) have fantastic fun and gentle personalities and are facially stunning. She was putting the little one to bed last night rocking her in her arms and singing her a lullaby... just as you would imagine. I was laying on the couch in the dark, just watching and taking it all in... and she actually soothed me to sleep.
All of these friends are doing totally different things, but are really working their tasks for all they are worth. They are inspirational and the perfect example of the types of people you want to surround yourself with .... uplifting.

A few thoughts on the corporate machine

So, as many of you know... my paper's mother company has just been bought out. Knight Ridder bought my paper just about 2 years ago in an attempt to gobble up the competition in the area. They bought other papers in the area along with mine, making it basically a "one paper town." The only thing separating them is the writers. We are all doing what we can to cover unique and useful stories in our individual communities. The business side of the papers... well that's just an incestuous cross selling mess. A very greedy, bottom line hunting situation.
To make things worse (or better depending on who you're talking to) the MILLIONAIRE stock holders at the tip-top of the company didn't think they were rich enough... so they staged (basically) a take-over and forced the company to sell company that bought Knight Ridder is half our size, which means to tame the beast, they must do some serious down sizing.
Now, all of the little papers (who were swallowed by this monster to begin with) and now totally uncertain of what will become of them.
I am not as concerned about the buy-out as many. In fact, if I came to work tomorrow and the locks were changed, I would just pick up and find a new job.... one of the many benefits to being young and agile.
But my boss? He's at the end of his career... but not so far that he could just take his retirement. How is a 50-60 yr old supposed to start their career over or simply compete with the up and coming generation?
It breaks my heart to think of him being laid off and then having to work at a retail store or as a handy man or something for the last few years of his working life. He was in the newspaper business back in the day when you had to lay out the printing press like ink blocks (think about that people... every little letter in a stamp!)
Boo.
Best case scenario.... since our group of papers is still up for sale... the writers guild (union) will make a bid for the papers and then it will be employee owned. Better than the top of the corporate ladder (Gannett) buying us... I don't even want to think about their business tactics.
YIKES! GET ME OUT!!!

Also...

As I am new at this, I had my settings kinda "off." So now, you can leave a comment... if, in fact, you are so inclined to do so.

Another post about wedding readiness....

I would like to begin by saying to all those who are interested in the decoration on my left ring finger ... DON'T HOLD YOUR BREATH!! It ain't happenin' any time soon.
And here's how I know.
The ice bucket of dread.
I was at a shower this weekend (and it wasn't your traditional show of pink fluff and frosting.) It was actually in a bar - and I was having a great time, until....
Dun, dun, DAHH!!
The ice bucket of dread.
There is this moment at every bridal shower I go to where I start to freeze up. You know, the moment where the bride starts opening her gifts, and most of them seem pretty reasonable for a young woman... a nice set of sheets, some pretty bowls, a funky Pampered Chef item perhaps (I myself am the proud owned of the PC chopper.) But then comes ... yes, one more time for affect.
The ice bucket of dread.
I can't see the use in this damn thing. Margarita set, yes. High thread count, yes. Ice bucket, hell no. My heart starts pounding, my breath shallows and I am casually (no, frantically) waving down the waitress for another Appletini.
Is there some sort of agreement between engagement jewelers and the ice industry to coheres brides into thinking they need this?
It is truly nothing against the lovely brides in my life. I love them all and respect their taste in housework (homer) house stuff.....Moving on, I think it speaks more to my need to own as little stuff as possible right now... because I don't want to have to move it.
It might also speak to how un-ready I am to be a happy-homemaker. I am much more content be the "lady-friend" I am right now.

Alright, I am finally jumping on the blogging bandwagon! I figure if I can spy on my little brother on Facebook, it is only fair that he can spy on me here.
So.... what to write, what to write?
Ya know, I couldn't keep a written journal for the life of me when I was in school... I'm not sure what makes think I'm going to be able to keep up with the electronic form.
So, I have my entire house to myself. My college roommates are on Spring Break... just as I am coming home from Mexico.
I had no idea it was going to have such a hard time getting back into the swing of things. This week in my cubicle has felt like G'tmo. Fluorescent light has replaced sunlight and my tan is running off my freckled nose screaming. If that isn't torture I don't know what is.
I guess there is always the sunless tanning option... if I am so vain that I need bronzer to be happy.
I was seemingly vain before the wedding in Mexico, because I was practically bathing in the stuff the week before.
I tried two methods. One was the Mystic Tan - much like a car wash where a line of nozzles get ya good from the front and back (you sick F*ck). You may have seen this method on a Friends episode where Ross forgets to turn around and gets sprayed in the face two or three times. The result - Latino man walking in the room, white guy walking out.
Luckily for me, the Mystic Tan turned both of my sides into a Latin man...err, latin looking woman. Over all, the Mystic Tan was a-okay.
The secondary method was called Sun Spritz. This one felt a little "Auschiwitzy" because the gas-like chamber sprays you from 360 degrees. I had to watch an instructional video before the whole process, and the sun princess who worked there, whose skin was actually beef-jerky, kept asking me questions that should've prompted my exit.
Sun princess: "Did you shave before you came?"
me: "uh.. yeah."
SP: "Is your bridesmaids dress backless?"
me: "uh.... no, it's a bridesmaids dress not a hooker get-up."
SP: "Do you think you'll sweat very much in the next 6 hours?"
And so on...
Now most gals, knowing the consequences of their actions would be captured on hundreds of wedding photos for years to come, would've passed on the Sun Spritz.
I however, decided to give her a go.
The video showed a pretty effortless process... the actress covered all her bits with shower caps and barrier cream (aka lottsa lotion) and stepped into the gas chamber smiling, and out of the chamber smiling... and GLOWING!
Fine. I can do this.
Long story short (or long story just a little longer) I stepped into the chamber smiling, and out of the chamber looking like a was trying to push a truck out of the mud.
I think the Sun Spritz is intended for gals round about 5' 10'', because a spray nozzle intended for a much broader surface, hit me full on in the face!
All I can say is thank goodness for my mint blending abilities... I whipped that muddy situation into my own faux beef jerky bodysuit in no time.