lost.

I always feel like I'm lost and un-settled.

I'm in a job I don't like, but I'm comfortable in. 

I live in a fantastic location and I love my landlord and landlady but I want to explore the country, see if I'm supposed to fit somewhere else. 

I don't want to just stay in the same area I grew up in, just because I'm scared to explore.

I want to explore, I'm psychologically prepared to do it, but I also know I'd miss my friends here.

But friends are friends no matter where you are in location.

It's like a constant battle in my brain.

The battle erupts after weekends like this past rockstar one.

It makes me realize I don't want to be in the same spot, doing the same thing, year after year.

I want to get out and LIVE, explore, change....all that good stuff.

This morning I sumbled upon this post: Why Feeling Lost is a Gift (And Why Questions are Your Friends).

Now I feel even more okay with my holy shit what in the cripes is going on in my life everyday status.

pbr part 5.

I actually didn't know it was possible to fall further in love with the PBR.  But apparently it is possible.

So we arrived on Friday night - checked into our hotel, started downing some skittles vodka, showered up, and changed.

As we waited for our taxi, that took about an hour - we polished off another cup of skittles vodka.

We then proceeded to take the scariest taxi ride of our lives.  Seriously, like I thought we were going to be shot in a dark alley way.

We got to the event - had some beers, watched the conclusion and ran for a bar. 

Took some shots, sent a text to one of the riders, and headed to their hotel bar.

We arrived, took some more shots, ordered some beers, and then stepped to the bathroom.  Upon our return to the bar, we stopped for some conversation outside of the bar with some of the riders.  My sister then headed in to order another round of beers with her main boy rider.

I remained outside.  And then suddenly - my endearing cowboy from pbr part 3 came outside and wrapped me in a bear hug.

A bear hug.  How can you not love that?

Clearly I hung out with his little group all evening.

I even missed the screaming match my sister got into with the world's biggest DB.

Then somehow shots got suggested.

Whiskey shots.

I told my sister she should take one because honestly, you couldn't even taste the whiskey.

It was fucking straight whiskey.

Soon after that shot and after some dancing, mister bear hug asked if I was ready to head up to his room.  

I presumbably determined myself ready.

I put on some of bear hug's clothes to sleep, and then he announced he thought he might puke.

His roommate told me that the last time he thought he was gonna puke - he puked everywhere.

I slept in his roommate's bed, no way was I getting puked on.

We woke up, his roommate snuggled with me, because I guess it seemed appropriate.

Then after I got up to pee, I realized that their third roommate was curled up between the wall and bed, sleeping.

When the hell did he arrive?

They took some pictures, showered up, and then woke him up.

At which point he decided he needed to have his back rubbed - so he hopped into bed next to me and I rubbed his back.

Then he took a bath and was heading downstairs.

I texted my sister and found my way to the room she was in with her boy.

We hung out for a bit, took the elevator down, I ran off to find a bathroom to dry heave for a bit (fuck you whiskey), we said adios to my endearing cowboy who was headed home and happened to be in the lobby, and then sauntered off to our hotel.

We stopped on the way and ate some breakfast.

We got back to our room, my sister decided we must find some ice for our vodka.  We set off on the elevator, we got off and I immediately said I need a bathroom.  There was a gym and a trash can.

I made do with the trash can.  Then I walked around the corner to find my sister outside at the pool, and booted in the trash can out there too.

I've actually thought back all the way through college and I have never once booted the afternoon after drinking.

That whiskey shot fucking owned me.

We then proceeded to lie in bed watching a Toddlers and Tiaras marathon while reading damn you auto-correct.

I attempted to eat some pizza after we ran to the mall for some pink tee-shirts, the attempt wasn't all that successful.

We returned to our room, took showers, I took some ibuprofen, ate some pepto, and made myself some skittles vodka.

We made it to the event, rocked it out in the balcony, and then changed out of our pink tee shirts in the bathroom.

We took some shots on the way to the hotel bar, where we met some Europeans who bought us some shots and drinks, and then our cowboys arrived.

We met Flint, sans rodeo entertainer attire, and had some good conversation.

I also made friends with one of the guys who works at the events - who happened to ask where our seats were for the following day.  After I informed him they were in the balcony, he told me to please take his number and text him the next day, and that he would hook us up with some better seats.

I then fell in love with another mister mister who works at the events.  We had some excellent conversation while sitting in the lobby for a few hours listening to the boys play their guitars and sing.

Me and my sister stumbled into a cab at 6AM.

We passed out for 5 hours, packed up our shit, ran for some breakfast, and arrived at the event.

I texted the guy from the night before - and he came out to meet us, tickets in pocket.

I had bullshit kicked up and land on my lap we were so gosh darn close.

TV each ride, yup.

Flint spotted us and gave us a quick I love you sign.

Best seats ever.

Ummmmm....considering we aren't going to Vegas for the finals (imagine my disappointment), can it please be January yet? 

2012 season, here we come.

pbr pbr pbr and plaidurday.

I can't even do a Friday favorites post.

I can't.

I'm so flipping beside myself that it's fucking PBR weekend annnnnd today is Plaidurday!

For this PBR weekend, it's only me and my sister.

I seriously would be terrified if I wasn't so fucking excited.

My sister and I, we kind of need a balance someone with us to mellow our crazy. 

We both are capable of drinking waaay to much, partying waaay to hard, and being able to hang until all hours.

It's almost scary.

But I'm not scared. 

I'm bloody ecstatic.

PBR until Sunday and then I have a memorial golf benefit with a large amount of people on Monday. 

This means I have to be in good enough shape to bamboozle beers on Monday.

It's all about conditioning people, and proper preparation.

Enjoy your weekend!

pbr part 4.

Season opening, PBR style, in NYC.

Now this time around, I was beyond prepared style wise.  My boho-fashionista self was back in action and ready to class it out.

My sister and her friend were unable to leave work early, so that meant we had to wait until the afternoon to head to NYC.

Wait until the afternoon to head to NYC, in January, with a huge snowstorm on the horizon.

We got stuck in a blizzard and lost a windshield wiper.  Meaning we had to get ourselves off the highway, find a store where some nice gentleman would replace said wiper, and we could get back on our merry way.

Needless to say, we didn't get to NYC in time for the event.

Back-up plan: eat some easy-mac, down lots of booze, and head directly to the after party bar.

Clearly we were ready to roll as we showed up at the "after-party" bar. 

But wait....we messed up again?!

Sigh, we hailed a taxi and were taken to the real after party bar.  Except there was an enormous line outside.

One of the cowboys walked by, the one who had lent me his jacket last year in NYC.

Heyyyyyy - remember us?!  Can we hop in with you??

The bouncer nearly stopped us, but as the rider stared at me blankly - he said they're with me.

Booooom - we were in!

Mind you, like a couple hours later - the same rider came up to me as he finally remembered why he knew us.

We danced are bottoms off and somehow remained at the bar until 4AM.

At which point we returned to the hotel - with a rider in tow.

We walked in the doors and seeing the up & down escalator in front of me - I had a brilliant idea.

RAACEE!!

Except I chose to run up the down escalator, racing against a stellar male athlete.

Worst decision ever.  I ended up wiping out at the top, he had to grab me off the escalator, and I collapsed into pain and giggles.

I still have a scar on my right knee where it got tore up.

We all fell asleep, real classy like.

We did some running around NYC the following day and then returned to the hotel to pre-game and primp.

We made it to the event, thank goodness.

We made it to the actual after party bar - where we had some friends meeting up with us.

We proceeded to dance on top of the bar and take a number of shots.

I met some nice cowboy gentleman who was talking me up.  Single, kind, sigh, good looking.

Except as we went outside, one of the riders who I have a serious on-going flirtation with (aka pillow down the middle gentleman)....absconded me into his cab.  Leaving nice gentleman cowboy behind.

One night stand with a married man?  Classy, I know.  You can all punch me in the face later for being that girl.

I roused myself at 7AM and decided I must be close to my actual hotel and that I would walk there.

I was not close.

20 blocks is not close when you are still drunk.

I called my friend and left a voicemail (which I listened to the following week, cripes you couldn't understand a word I said).

I called my other friend and thank goodness she picked up and I rambled as I walked.

I walked straight into the turning doors of my hotel and stood there.

Dude, seriously, the turning doors are broken.  They aren't turning.  I'm standing here, stuck.

After several moments of near drunken panic, I realized you needed to push the doors.

I'm sure the front desk personnel loved it.

I eventually got to my hotel room, changed into boxers & a tee, and jumped into bed.

A few hours later we realized we needed to check out in 30 minutes.

We needed to find my sister.

After tracking her down at a different hotel with a rider - and declaring she rush her ass along considering she needed to transfer her belongings into a different suitcase so that after the event we could drop her off at the airport so she could jet set onto a mini vacay. 

I think she arrived back at our hotel with moments to spare before check-out.

We were disaster-face and me and my sister even had matching hickies.

The best part is - is that one of our friends befriended an elderly security man at the bar the night before.  A security man for Madison Square Garden.

We ended up with seats directly behind the chutes.

Our parents spotted us on tv each time a rider went out.

Stellar.  Best seats EVER.

Following the event - we even got pulled down onto the dirt.

And then went behind the scenes - aka we saw all the riders after the event - as they were showering up & changing.

A whole new level of creep.

Then the security man brought us out for food and drinks.

Then we dropped my sister off at the airport - and drove home.

She was headed off to continue to drink her little heart out on a beach.

We were headed back to recovery in the snow.