Ok, here I am

We arrived home from St. Thomas late Monday night, got about 4 minutes of sleep since D was all messed up and ended up in our bed again, and then I went to bed at 8:30 last night. Suitcases and carry-ons remain unpacked, and the clothes I wore on the flights home are even still strewn on our bedroom floor.

Yes, I’m tired.

So I apologize for the severe lack of posting lately. Granted I was on vacation for about 9 days, but I know I’ve missed a monthly D update post and I owe you pictures. Don’t worry, there are LOTS of pictures coming. I just have to wade through them all to pick the best gems for you.

But in the meantime, here’s a teaser. This is my youngest sister on the boat we took to the British Virgin Islands one day during our trip. Look at the color of that water!! This photo is not edited or retouched in any way. That place is just that naturally and stunningly beautiful.

 

How I long to be back on those beaches with that water tickling my toes…

 

 

Picture me rollin’

Right onto one of those beach chairs and not moving for about the next week and a half.

That’s right – we’re going on vacation!! To St. Thomas this time, with the same group of family with whom we went to Hawaii, plus my sister who couldn’t make that trip. So it’ll be fun.

And I hope more than anything that some good warm sun will burn these haunting germs right out of us once and for all.

So I’ll be gone for awhile, but I promise to bring back loads of pictures and a nice tan for you. See you later, mon!

 

 

 

Hooray beer!

Happy Leap Day! I’m not really sure what the proper way to honor a day that comes only once every 4 years is, but how about with some beer? Sounds good to me – come on in!

Last Saturday we went to Bockfest at Capital Brewery in Middleton, WI, just on the west side of Madison. This was our 2nd year in a row, and it’s so much fun.

We go with our great friends E & C, and they’ve gone a number of years now. 4 I think? We got over there early (this year we met up at their house around 8:30am), head to a local bar just a few blocks from the brewery called the Hody, then mosey into the fest at 11.

Ticket holders are granted entry at 11, general public is allowed in at noon if there is any space available, taps close at 4, and everyone is kicked out by 5. It’s always held the last Saturday of February, so you’re guaranteed to be cold in Wisconsin at that time, and it has become our annual beginning of the beerfest/pub crawl season.

I drove us home again this year so didn’t indulge quite as much as everyone else, but I still had plenty of fun. R took his usual plethora of pictures, so here is a nice rundown of the day, photo style…

The line is always long, even for ticket holders. Fortunately it moves quickly once they open the gates.

That doesn’t put a damper on our good times, though!

Once everyone is in and ready to go, they hold the traditional running of the blondes – it’s a 1k jog around the block. Very taxing. I’ll have to remember my blonde wig next time. It’s also a little play on words, since their Blonde is the featured brew at Bockfest – highly delicious, highly potent, and you only get half a mug full. And everyone only gets 1.

You always see a multitude of crazy costumes and hats at Bockfest, and R found the banana guy again this year. Turns out he’s one of E’s little brother’s friends. Small beer world.

Workers of the brewery and their family/friends throw stuff off the roof of the place all day long. Why? Who knows. But if you toss anything into a crowd of drunk people they’re guaranteed to go nuts.

This time they threw beads, little plush dinosaurs (a new addition this year, but they matched the green brontosaurus statue that resides permanently on the brewery roof. r caught one for d!), and smoked chub. Yes, those are fish, and it is totally disgusting. I made sure I was far inside this year before the chub came out – if I got hit with one of those nasty things I was ready to punch someone.

By the time they kicked us out of the place we were more than ready to head downtown for some delicious grub on our way out of town, but not before we stopped off for a few quick shots in the oversized tailgating chairs.

And that makes another successful Bockfest in the books. I think I like this tradition. Cheers!

 

 

Gentle Jack Jones…

…won’t you come home to me?

“Brown Eyed Women” is my favorite Grateful Dead song. Hands down. Probably because I have brown eyes. Or probably because it’s about the only one where I positively know every single word and don’t have to mumble any of them. Either or.

And every time we go see Dark Stark Orchestra, I hope beyond hope that they play it, so I can finally belt one out with the best of the hippie crowd.

DSO is a most excellent Grateful Dead cover band, except they don’t just cover they Dead, they play actual entire past Dead shows. Set list for set list. They are incredible.

Much like Aussie Pink Floyd, if you close your eyes while listening to DSO you could actually think you were hearing the Grateful Dead themselves, Jerry and all.

We try to go see them every year, as they make an annual winter stop at one of the theaters in downtown Milwaukee. And tonight’s the night. Grandma’s coming up to babysit D and spend the night, so R and I are going to the show. Huzzah! (huzzah? i don’t think i’ve ever said that before)

I love these guys, and even though I won’t be partaking in the, ahem, *spirit*, of the show as most of the crowd will be, I’ll enjoy it just as much. Plus these theaters usually have splendid beer specials, like $4 tall boys. Nice!

For those of you unfamiliar with DSO, here’s a clip of them playing “Brown Eyed Women” this past New Year’s Eve. Please pardon the less-than-stellar filming – I can only imagine the camera person’s state of *being* at that moment.

And yes, that chick on stage does twirl and do the hippie dance the entire show. Sometimes I end up just watching her the whole time…

 

 

This one time, when I fell asleep with my eyes open while driving…

I realized the other day that I really have shared zero stories from my time in NYC witch’all. Not that my life was brimming with parties and celebrities and tales that would make even Paris Hilton blush, but it was just fun being out there, finding my way in such a monstrous and amazing city as that of New York City. Manhattan. The Big Apple. So many monikers, and it lives up to each and every one of them.

Now I didn’t technically live in NYC. I lived right across the Hudson River in Jersey City, NJ. This worked out perfectly, for the PATH train that ran from NJ into the city stopped less than 1 block from my apartment building, I had a 19th floor view of the entire Manhattan skyline from past the Empire State Building all the way down to the Statue of Liberty, and the rent on my 700+ sq. ft. 1-bedroom apartment was considerably less than what I would have paid on the same space anywhere within the city limits of Manhattan.

But I did work in the city. Right in the heart of it. First in the World Financial Center (which used to be attached to the World Trade Center by a footbridge), then actually in Jersey City for a stint after 9/11 since our building was damaged in the fall of the towers, and finally smack dab in the middle of the island near Times Square once we procured our new office space. It was awesome. If you’ve never been, that city really is alive every minute of every hour of every day. There is always something going on somewhere, and if you find yourself bored in NYC, then I think there’s just something wrong with you.

It’s unfortunate that I detested my job so much by the end of the 2 years I lived there, for I really could have pictured myself staying out there for much longer. I moved out in July 2001, R came to join me in June 2002, and we moved back to Milwaukee together at the very end of June 2003. I cannot even tell you how much it meant to me (and ultimately our relationship) that R moved out east to spend that year with me, because we had more fun exploring and getting to know our new locale than I think we have anywhere else. And it’s now always a city that will still feel a little like home no matter how many years go by between visits.

But anyway, more on that later. Back to my story that prompted the title of this post. How does one fall asleep with their eyes open, and while driving, no less? Easy. I’ll show you.

Less than a month after I moved out there, my 2 best girlfriends A and E came out for a long weekend visit. I was absolutely thrilled, because I so badly missed everyone from Madison. Moving 1,000 miles away from your family and friends all by yourself was a little harder than my 22-year-old self was expecting. So to see them again so soon was wonderful. Through work, I had been to a lot of bars and clubs and had heard of even more, so of course I wanted to show them all the best ones during their stay. Because as 22 and 23-year-old coeds on the loose in Manhattan, isn’t that what you do? Duh.

The last night of their stay we decided to go all out. We went out to dinner at Tortilla Flats, hit up a couple bars in that area on our way over to the Meatpacking District, then ended the night at Exit, this huge behemoth of a night club over on the west side of the city. It’s an all-night affair kind of place, which we discovered as we came up out of the subway back across the street from my apartment at about 7am with the sun in our eyes. Oops. And then we had to turn right back around and drive to LaGuardia so they could catch their flight home, fresh off our no-sleep escapades. Double oops.

Fortunately driving through Sunday morning Manhattan at 8am-ish is much less crowded than driving through, say, Friday afternoon Manhattan at 5pm-ish, but still. It’s driving through Manhattan nonetheless. And this was after a night out on the town with zero minutes of sleep. So at one point, I heard A shout from the passenger seat, “Red light! Red light!” What?? Where, what are you talking about? Oh shit! Right HERE!!! Yes, I was steering us directly through a huge intersection at which I had a red light, and I didn’t even know it at all. I had fallen completely asleep at the wheel, WITH MY EYES WIDE OPEN. Triple oops.

Obviously we all made it to the airport in 1 piece and they arrived safely back in Madison, even after having to sleep on some garbage bags on the floor of O’Hare at one point. But damn if that wasn’t one of the craziest trips ever. The whole drive home from LaGuardia I was just waiting to careen off a bridge somewhere or crash full into the side of a huge building, because without a trusty sidekick, who was going to hold my eyelids open? Note to self – SLEEP next time.