Dive on in friends.
It is frightening how much time I have spent going through this everything lovely site, to say I'm obsessed is an understatement.
Snow gum trees in Cradle Mountain-Lake St. Clair National Park, Tasmania Australia - from bing....sooo pretty.
The first snow was yesterday - and while both me and my dog LOVE the snow, seeing articles about laying on the beach invokes some pretty lovely images. And so I give you, the World's Best Islands.
I want this bike and I want it NOW.
No secret I love elephants which means I love this, a lot.
And I think this is pretty fitting, especially after last weekend.
Have a lovely weekend!
The best part of having an overzealous drinking wine extravaganza?
Having your BFF call you 2 days later after an overzealous beer drinking extravaganza informing you that she peed in her boyfriend's underwear drawer because she "couldn't find" the bathroom.
Peas in a pod?
I think yes.
Lover it.
Friday night was wino night with the girls at my friend's house.
Her hubby was out of the state for a teaching conference or something, so we had a group of us, all with a bottle of wine (or 2) in tow.
For some reason - I was ready to drink, drinkk, drank.
After skipping lunch, I had a couple pieces of pizza and a beer.
Then the wine shenanigans began.
I was putting glasses of wine back like no one's business.
Like I'm actually serious, I was drinking like 2 glasses to everyone's maybe 1.
Along came midnight, and my realization that I better get the fuck OUT.
So without saying a word, I disappeared upstairs to the spare bedroom and promptly passed out with my feet on the floor.
As it goes - 45 minutes later two of my friends realized I had never returned. So they ran upstairs to retrieve me.
They bounced me around the bed, tossed me around a bit, attempted to stand me up, before I removed my footwear and slipped under the covers after telling them to fuck off.
They returned to the party.
Apparently (I say apparently because I have no fucking idea what actually happened, HELLO BLACK OUT CITY), but apparently I booted in bed.
I awoke, realized what happened and removed myself from the bed.
Rather than head to the bathroom, I headed to her master bedroom.
I must have gotten all a-fluster after booting some more on her floor (which I cleaned in my drunken stupour thank you very much) - because I booted some more but attempted to hide it.
After this all occured, I took my slightly puke covered self and got under the covers in her bed.
Uhhhh, classy, I know.
Eventually my friend came upstairs - found the puke in the spare room - rounded up all the blankets and sheets and threw them in the wash.
She then returned to her bedroom, aka my new location.
Where is the puke Twiggs?
I didn't fucking puke shut up.
It smells like vomit in here, you puked in the other room, and I need to know where it is.
Shut up, I didn't puke. I cleaned it up in the bathroom.
You are the only one up here, you did puke, now tell me where it is.
Then she opened her window curtain.
DO YOU SEE THIS?
I drunkenly sit myself up to take a peek.
I didn't do it.
DO YOU SEE THIS?
Ummm, is that puke on the window?
YES, IT IS PUKE. ARE YOU FUCKING MIA HAMM AIMING FOR THE UPPER 90?!
Yes, friends, not only did I puke at the window - I puked in the upper left hand corner of the window. I then promptly shut the curtains, hiding the disaster.
I finagled myself out of the bed and proceeded to drunkenly clean the window with toliet paper.
Pretty sure it was unsuccessful.
I then changed out of my attire, threw on some sweet plaid jammies, and walked back down to the still going on party.
I announced that I arose from the dead - threw my hands in the air - and then walked back to bed.
I called my sister and relived the experience with her.
She hysterically laughed.
I did not. I was mortified.
I then fell asleep with my dog and my friend's dog on the bed.
I woke up, bought everyone brekky (the humiliation I felt and puke still in my hair was free).
I eventually dragged my sorry ass home after repeatedly apologizing to my friend.
Several hours later she sent me a text - I think you need to purchase us some nice candles.
Which I did and dropped them off that day.
Honestly, I have not ever gotten to that point of drunken vomiting. NEVER.
Apparently I do not know how to gauge my wine tolerance.
Seriously, please remember that only 2 weekends ago I was ripping shots of vodka, whiskey, having mixed vodka drinks, and beers.
But wine. Nooooooo.
Perhaps I needed this slap in the face.
With the slap, I officially concluded that I will never again drink wine like water.
In fact, I will likely not drink wine for a very long time.
Barefoot Moscato, you've officially been ruined.
Damn it.
I was hoping to steal a few minutes today to post a Friday favorites a day early. Unfortunately I had a bugger of a day and was unable to do so.
I will be running around crazy tomorrow, out of the office, and then well....it's the weekend.
So, I will leave you with this simple amazing-ness.
Receiving feedback regarding workable necessities is one thing. But if someone doesn't appreciate you, for who and what you are, then seriously, move it along my friend.
You are awesome - be willing to fully embrace that.
I've mentioned before that me and my dog are a certified therapy team.
This means that we get to go to hospitals, libraries, nursing homes, etc and visit and brighten up someone's day.
Now I just recently set up regular visits with a children's psychiatric unit - which I was pumped about. I love working with children - it's what I miss most about working at my stupid desk job.
So we had a visit this past Sunday at 1PM.
We arrived and immediately 2 high energy, extremely loud approximately 8 year old boys were all up in my dog's face - chasing him around the room, exclaiming at his face, etc. I embraced their excitement but helped them to understand they needed to be a bit more settled until he was more familiar with them.
After about 20 minutes of this, they more or less lost interest and one of them actually ended up having disruption issues for the next hour and a half (by disruption I mean shouting, banging, stomping, and all that jazz).
The rest of the population in the room was teenagers who were definitely more subdued in their interest.
So me and my dog just kind of hung out in the room with them, and occasionally someone would come sit and pat him and talk to him.
We generally leave at about 2PM, which is about an hour of my dog being on extreme good work behavior - which is tiring for him.
However, right around this time, a young boy entered the room.
He had an angry "tough-guy" look on and sat himself in the corner.
Despite this look, he kept eyeing my dog.
I asked if he would like to come meet him.
Nooooo, ughhhh!
He quickly crossed his arms and looked away.
Every question he was asked - was responded to in a similar fashion. Extreme whiney, angry voice - one word answers.
But his eye would keep returning to my dog.
I offered him a dog treat, to just you know, hang on to in case he wanted to give it to my dog.
The chair inched towards us a bit.
For the next 45 minutes (which all the while there was major yelling, banging, and other disruptions occuring pretty extremely by the other boy), there was a slow inching and peaking interest.
I got questions of:
Is he a wolf?
Does he have big teeth?
How is he 2 different kinds of dogs?
That last one was fun to explain.
Ultimately, after 45 minutes, this young boy was laying on the floor eye-to-eye with my dog, rubbing his head, scratching his ears, and playing with his paws.
All the while having mundane conversation with me as my dog stared happily into his eyes - and offered a few licks which were received with happy laughter.
Seriously my dog is a freaking rockstar.
At about 3PM, the boy was called to head to his next group and one of the nurses came over to thank me. She also informed me that he had had a really tough couple of days and that today was especially rough for him, in fact most of his morning was spent in tears. She said that what my dog did for him was huge and that she was so appreciative we never questioned the time or staying an extra hour.
Staying the extra time was no concern because quite seriously, that extra hour and the brightening of that young boys' day is why we do it.
If we can turn around one day, change one life - even by a minute amount - it's totally worth it.
That short hour was totally worth it.
I'm attempting to regain some normalcy.
I like the rockstar lifestyle, but I also have to get back to being the everyday me.
Although, if I could live the rockstar way everyday - I would do it, for reals.
Anyways, I'm thrilled it is Friday - even if it was only a 4 day work week.
First up, from National Geographic's Photo of the Day, here is a photo by Matt Eich, of Grevy's Zebra named Elvis at a refuge center in Ohio.
Considering October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month - here is a great link to Survival Diaries: 10 Real Woman who Share their battle with Breast Cancer. Check it out.
I love Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen, from Full House days on. They're sooo purty.
I have a history of driving, A LOT. I think it's because I can't just sit still at my apartment, so I go, go, go....after seeing this article, I want to take all of these Most Iconic Drives. After I trade in my gas guzzler of course.
Nicole Richie is my style icon. But she also is inspiring - she's overcome a lot and really settled into being her and I love that. I think she rocks, she has a solid hubby, and her children are adorbs.
New shopping site obsession: LuLu*s....prepare to spend some serious browsing time.
Please check out this post Nature Lovers by Chanel Bags and Cigarette Drags. Some serious LOVE from this girl.
I didn't blog about anything regarding Steve Jobs' death immediately after it happened because I wasn't sure what I would want to say. I stumbled upon this and I think he says things better than I ever could.
Have a lovely weekend all :)
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.
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.
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!
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.
After nearly a year of living the single life and regressing back to the crazy I was in college, I was officially ready for round 3 of the PBR.
My sister and I, and one of her friends arrived at the hotel on Friday evening.
Considering the event took place at a casino and we booked a room at the casino, we were set and set. We guzzled down some booze, showered, primped, and prepped and then ran down the casino hallway - stopping for shots on the way of course and hopped into our seats.
I was 100% prepared, and drunk enough to attempt it, to win fan of the night. Damn it, I was even wearing sequins.
The event started and I kept my ass out of my seat as much as possible. Every time a song came on - I made eye contact with the rodeo clown, Flint duh, and started busting moves like you've never seen.
Then it was time. Time for the announcement.
I thought I lost it for goodness sake, he started talking and was no where to be seen.
And then suddenly, out of the staircase arrived Flint:
At which time he said something like:
To all of you fans sitting behind this girl who are beyond irritated she won't sit her butt down, this girl knows how to have a good time!
I won for being amazingly annoying.
I will say that for all my wanting to win, once you start talking into the microphone and then you do a slight turn and realize that for fucks sake you are on a huge screen for the whole arena to see, it's mildly embarassing. Thank goodness I was tipsy.
After the event, I took a picture with my sweet ass buckle and immediately uploaded it to Facebook. I then left the buckle in the hotel room (I nearly couldn't bear to part with it, but it was necessary) and we set off for the after party bar.
Where we took a couple sets of shots. Because it seemed necessary.
The cowboys arrived - and because I have zero concern about being overzealous, I dragged my sister and friend directly next to them and we began dancing our asses off.
I believe at one point I was on the dance floor with a cowboy who was wearing a leather jacket with sheepy lining and no shirt underneath.
At some point we went next door to another bar, where the guys realized I was following along like a small child, and thought it would be funny to see if I would follow them into the men's room, which I did.
Some how all of us girls got separated. And I was alone with a group of cowboys fleeing the scene.
I had one attached to my arm (that I was trying to extricate) when one of the most endearing cowboys on tour came over. I pointed at his belt buckle and asked if he would be willing to swap considering I won fan of the night.
He asked to see the buckle.
We set off for my hotel room with me profusely claiming he saved me and that he was awesome.
We arrived at my hotel room, I proudly displayed my belt buckle, we discussed pets, and our lives.
To make a long story short I had the first one night stand of my life. He left at some point really early in the morning, after getting my number.
I woke up the next morning in a sweet tie-dye shirt with wild animals on the front and a pair of boy shorts. I was pretty darn sure I might die.
I turned and my sister had somehow arrived in the other bed. She was in her going out shirt and a pair of undies.
We discussed the possibility of never moving.
Then we ultimately decided we needed breakfast. We dressed while laying down and then dragged our sorry asses to restaurant where I quite honestly could not even make eye contact with the waitress. I had to stare at the table and concentrate on breathing.
Who sauntered by as we sat in this sorry state? My one night stand cowboy, that's who. All smiles and waves as I turned up the corners of my mouth in an attempt to smile as I held in the possibility of puke.
After breakfast we laid down and did not a damn thing until our friend arrived from another hotel down the road. We had nearly forgotten there was 3 of us.
We began drinking, showering, and prepping for the night ahead.
Ran down the hallway for the event, stopping to grab shots of course, and hopped into our seats.
We immediately got Flint's attention and then immersed ourselves into the riding.
After the event we ran to the after party bar. Which ended up not being the after party bar. At which point we ran to the bar from the night before, found an enormous line, and snagged a cowboy's attention - and he had the bouncer let us in.
We drank and danced our asses off once more.
Somehow after discussion with some of the boys - we were informed there was an after the after party at another hotel.
Well of course we went.
Except somehow I ended up in conversation with someone else, ended up missing the ride with the cowboy who invited us, and me and my sister took a taxi ourselves.
We arrived to find NO ONE in the lobby.
We decided to saunter around the hotel, where I was whisper shouting the cowboys names down the hallway (classy, I know), until a door finally opened.
We were in.
We proceeded to drink whiskey and sing songs with the cowboys until 5AM when we stumbled into one of the rooms and collapsed on a bed. Me on one bed her on another.
She threatened the cowboy that she was in bed with that if he laid a hand on her she would sock him one.
The cowboy I was sharing a bed with, was married. So I suggested pillows down the middle, because for some reason I thought that was a hilarious saying.
Pillows down middle didn't work out since we didn't have enough, but we both passed out and it was entirely innocent anyways. Phew.
We skipped the event on Sunday since my sister needed to leave early to be at a wedding, and then drove our sorry asses back home.
It was time for some major alcohol detox and recovery.
But damn was it fucking worth it.
So after my first adventure of PBR, it dawned on me that I wanted in.
I wanted in to this world of hot cowboys, lots of booze, and poor decisions.
Enter part 2 of PBR, NYC style.
Now, I'm no city girl. Especially during that period of my life.
So we set off from our hotel, after pregaming in the room obvs, to head to the event.
Now as a sidenote, this excursion occured a few months after my breakup, so I was still in my backwoods style situation (aka I was not dressed appropriately for a night out on the city).
I wore a simple white long sleeve, jeans, and a puffy vest. No jacket, even though it was January in NYC. Soooo, a nice lady in the elevator handed me her handwarmers and told me I was going to need them more than her. She was correct.
The event was awesome, as expected.
As we exited, we RAN, legit ran, down the roads of NYC to get to the after party bar. There was no being left out of that situation, let me tell you.
We arrived at the bar, proceeded to order multiple rounds of shots and beers.
I was all in my wide-eyed deer phase, sit at the bar and be quiet (nothing like I am now).
As we left, we hopped into a cab with a couple of the riders, one of whom offered me his jacket for the ride (a Brazilian who happened to win the championship one year).
The plan as my sister whispered to me and our friend, was as soon as it stopped in front of their hotel, we would get out and run as fast as we could to our hotel.
The cab stopped, I hopped out ready to flee.
The other two followed the riders into the hotel.
Well, right, ok. Plan fail.
So I went with them obviously.
We headed upstairs, woke up a few more cowboys, headed into one of the rooms, turned on the tube, and hung out.
One of the Brazilians took the remote from me (apparently my choice of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire wasn't good enough) and flipped on porn.
PORN.
I had never seen porn in my whole entire life. I had an enormous case of the giggles as I hid my head in the blankets.
The rider sauntered over to me and with an enormous accent asked would you like to watch the porno, or would you like to make a porno?
WTF.
After everyone gave him shit and realized there was going to be no porno making, he left.
We should have left too.
But alas, my sister was very into one of the riders and informed me that if we wanted to head to our hotel, we would be on our own.
If you know me, that's probs one of the worst ideas ever. I get lost on the road I grew up on let alone NYC at 4AM.
So we crashed there.
After some man named Potato cranked the heat and order 15 rounds of food.
I fought off a married rider for a few hours before zipping up my puffy vest and wrapping myself like a mummy in a sheet and sweating my ass off in the 85 degree room.
I didn't sleep much.
I started peeping out to my sister and friend at approximately 7AM.
psssh anyone awake in here?
Sometimes I think I'm like a tween at a sleepover party.
My sister said Twigs, zip it. Wake up our friend and I will be down in like 15.
So I did just that.
We headed downstairs, grabbed a cold muffin and juice and parked ourselves in this fucking enormous lobby in our obviously wrinkly morning after attire, as all sorts of people in business attire looked upon us with disgrace as they sped by.
I mean obviously there would be some sort of business convention happening.
Anyways, after 15 minutes passed, we sprawled ourselves on these enormous benches.
We waited close to 45 minutes before I had it.
I went to the phone, called the operator, gave the riders' name who the room was under, had my call connected, and had my sister put on the phone.
where the eff are you?
Oh as it happens, she fell back asleep. Nice.
I shouted a bit into the phone until she understood she better hustle her ass down the stairs.
She did, we stumble jogged through the cold back to our hotel and proceeded to sleep for a couple hours.
Woke up, got ready, pregamed, and headed off for the next nights event.
Thankfully, we had another friend join us for the evening. One who is a bit more together, especially in the city.
So after the event, we ran ass to the bar once more. Got crazy drunk, danced our asses off, and decided we would head back to the riders' hotel and see if there was an after party.
There wasn't.
But I called the room asking if Potato was around.
He wasn't, but they invited us up anyways.
We left my sister there this time because we had a city girl with us who could lead us to our hotel.
We slept for a couple hours and then went to the last days event. Leaving one of our friends to sleep in the lobby because "she didn't feel well."
Yup, I said sleep in the lobby, check out time already happened and we weren't about to miss the final day event.
Now, this story is still somewhat PG, at least to me.
But it's the next step into the world of rockstar crazy, PBR style.
To say I love the PBR (and I'm talking professional bull riding, definitely not pabst blue ribbon which makes my stomach hurt so I refuse to drink it, I don't care that it's the hipster beer of now), is an understatement. Obsessed is more appropriate.
It wasn't always this way though.
My sister was a huge fan all through high school, in the fan club and all. I teased her endlessly about this and refused to watch it on tv.
Then one year she called me wasted at 2AM after being at one of the events. Twigs - can you call Mom and Dad, I'm not coming home! I can't drive. We met all the cowboys at the bar!
Cowboys, excuuuuuse me. Now you know these professional cowboys - well la-di-da.
So several months later, the PBR came back to the east coast. At this time I was in a shit-ass terrible dark spot relationship and my sister said I don't care what you want, you are coming to the event.
So I drove out to the venue and went.
And wouldn't you know, it was effing amazeballs!
It was an adrenaline rush from the stands and completely captured my attention.
Cowboys, damn it, are smokin' hot and tough as nails.
Plus we were old enough to go to the bars after the event, a la after party - can you say yes!
Which is where we met all the cowboys and I looked into the eyes of not one of the riders, but of one of the workers of the Pike Power Team (the guys who get the bulls ready, open gates, etc.).
Swoon as soon as he opened his mouth, of course.
He invited me to go grab food with his buddy, which I declined, because seriously I was in a relationship, duh.
I regretted this decision for months and stalked him endlessly through facebook, especially considering my relationship ended like days later.
This story is incredibly PG and realistically, it's just an introduction about how PBR hooked me, and hooked me hard.
Because trust me this story is vanilla....but my love affair with PBR was just beginning.
And the crazy was just beginning.
