Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Saying Goodbye


Two years ago today James and I received the devastating news that our good friend, Matt Green, had unexpectedly passed away. He was a father of two beautiful girls and a devoted husband to Monica. His death has had a profound effect on our lives and our marriage. His wife is one of the most positive people I have ever met and I has been a true inspiration for myself as a person, a wife and a mother. Over the past few years, I have been hit with flashes of memories or even just random thoughts and the tears just start rolling along. Today has been especially hard, though for the most part it has become easier to remember him and laugh as well as cry. He was so special and I can not adequately put into words how much his friendship meant to us. He loved life, his family, his friends. He was just a happy person.
For those of you who did not have the honor of knowing Matt (and it truly was an honor), I will try hard to describe him for you. He was a 6ft 5 teddy bear with this inviting smile and loud laugh. He was so easy to get along with, and after the first time I met him, I felt that we had been friends together. I try to think what Matt would think of me crying right now while writing this. I think that he would be making fun of me mercilessly and then as he walked away, he would pat my back to reassure me that everything would be ok.
Matt and I worked together in the same office at Enterprise. I can honestly say, my days were so much fun when he was in the office. He was a little bit of a prankster and we would go the rounds playing tricks on each other. I think it first began with spitballs (I know, professional huh). Matt had come up with a brilliant idea one day to recreate his school days and blow spit balls from a straw at all of us. The thing that made it so much more funnier is that he would chose the time when you could not fight back at all. I remember talking to the police department on the phone and he came around my wall and tagged me right on the neck! I was stuck. I could not do anything as he kept hitting me with these spitballs while trying to concentrate on what the police officer said at the time. I started throwing random items at him from my desk, but he would not quit, and laughed is hearty laugh the whole time. I tried calling my boss Tony over and they ended up getting into a spitball fight on their own. That was your average Tuesday with working with Matt.
To get him back, I would use physical tactics against him. He had his desk facing the opposite end of the door, so when you walked into the office, his back was to the door. I would sneak up and pinch him right under his arm and leave bruises for him to show off to his wife. I never could one up him though.
One of the funnier moments (really, it was not funny for me at the time) was when Matt and Tony conspired against me with the goal in mind to try to kill me with embarrassment. Tony had one of those machines that make farting noises when you push a button. All of the guys in the office thought this was the best thing to be invented. Monique, Emily and I did not find it as amusing (honestly, the fact that we got any work done at all still amazes me). So one day, I think I was pregnant at the time, I begin walking across the office and every time I take a step, a farting noise would come out . For anybody who knows me knows that this is about the most mortifying thing that can happen to me. However, our Regional Vice President had walked in at that exact time and I was just looking like pregnant fool with a flatulence problem. Not wanting to get them in trouble with the machine, I pretended that I had no idea what was going on as did the RVP (probably being embarrassed for me). I left the office a full shade of purple while Matt kept hitting the stupid button continuing with the noises. I think that they fessed up, but I am not sure. I do know I walked back into the office furious until I saw Matt's goofy grin. You could never stay mad at him.
Matt was also king of the sling shot in the office. He made these sling shots out of rubber bands and paperclips that hurt like hell when the hit you (I know this because I was on the receiving end of more than one of these slingshots). The distance and accuracy he had always amazed me. One time, I think I was about 8 months pregnant, I bent over to pick up a dropped file and hit me right square on my butt. I turned around to him and he had this look of amusement and guilt rolled up into one. There was nothing you could do but laugh and wonder how an 8 year old found himself in a 30 year old body.
For all of the practical jokes he played on me, he was also a true friend. Whenever I had a craving for something during my pregnancies, he would run out and get me whatever I wanted. I remember making him go get me an ICEE from 7-11 (had not had one in years, and have not had one since). I drank about 3 sips before I was throwing up in my trash can. He was right over at my desk patting my back and holding the trash can for me at the same time. He was my surrogate big brother and I absolutely adored him. I also remember him coming from his first doctors visit with Monica when they were pregnant with Skylar. He came in, just bouncing with excitement to show us the sonograms. I had to admit to him, even though I was a few months further along with my own daughter, that I could never tell what I was looking at when looking at those things. He told me "You are looking at the most perfect baby in the world"! Then we would get into a debate over whose baby was going to be cuter:)
I miss him. I miss his laughs, his excitement, his stories, everything about him (well maybe not the slingshots, but everything else). I miss him trying to convince me to give James a "hall pass" (code word for boys night out) and his stories about the girls peeing/pooping/spitting up on him right before he was going for work. As much as I miss him though, I am so thankful that he was a part of my life and everything his passing has done for my life. I don't go to bed mad at my husband, or hang up the phone angry at him. I know that every moment is precious and that I have to live that it as though it may be the last. James and I had the difficult talks about what are wishes are in case either one of us passes after Matt's passing. Most of all, I am thankful to have developed a friendship with his wife Monica, and that she keeps me up to date with the girls, Skylar and Talia, and how much they are the constant reminder of how life keeps going. The whole Green family is never far from our thoughts.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Facebook

So the last few weeks I began receiving a request almost daily to join Facebook by different friends. I have successfully avoided these social networks for years. They at times seem so invasive and way too informative. However, one too many friends told me I had to join so I gave a little information and I was off. I began with the requests that had been sent to my email and as soon as I signed up I had 10 friends. Wow, look at that, I am already feeling special! I got to see who stayed in contact with everybody, see some people I may want to reconnect with, some people I absolutely do not want to reconnect with but want to know what they are doing with their lives (and hopefully not very successful! God I am so evil.) I got to see their friends, their friends friends, their friends dogs, spouses, children, etc. I now know a ridiculous amount about people I have,nor will I ever, meet in this lifetime!
The first order of business was to pick a picture for my profile. I think I spent two hours going over pictures to find just that perfect one. My first choice would be to have one by myself, but how many times do you take pictures by yourself and not look like a total Tool? The pictures that you do have in which you are the sole focus is usually after a few too many and you are looking at whomever is holding the camera now convinced that you are a model, half closing your eyes (not trying to, but the alcohol won't let you open them correctly) blowing a kiss causing your face to slack on one side which ends with the result of you looking like you just had a stroke. Decided that that would not be the first impression I was going for. Then there is the alone picture, my personal favorite, where you take them of yourself (again, usually after a long night of drinking). You hold your arms out as far as they go, point the camera in the general direction of your face and smile a big cheesy grin. Because you inadvertently try to put your head at the furthest distance from your outstretched arms, the picture always ends up with you and a double (quadruple in some cases) chin, closed eyes, and about 10 inches of background above your forehead. Needless to say, the alone picture would not be featured on my page.
So next up, the most logical choice would be to have a picture of me and my husband. Unfortunately, we seem to be photogenic at totally different times. Every picture he looks great in, I have some funky expression on my face. The pictures that I did like of myself, he was not liking of himself. Personally, I think he is lucky that I did not post a picture of the two of us, because for once in my life I actually considered what type of picture he would want on my page. Honestly, whenever I look at a picture that I am in, no matter who is in it with me, I only focus on myself and how I look. I am pretty sure that this is common.
So finally, I chose a picture that I took with a friend this weekend. It complimented the right areas (if you know what I mean....wink, wink) and left a good first impression. (Let's not even go into the fact that I am computer illiterate and once I found the picture that I wanted, had to figure how how to put it on my page!)
Next up, inviting some friends to join your page. First I go to family since I am fairly confident that they will not refuse my invitation. Send an invite to my sister, my brother in law, my cousin Alan. You may know Alan. In fact, there is a very distinct possibility that you do know him because he has 926 friends on his Facebook account. That is right. Not a typo. 926. I am trying to reach 50 and he has over 900. Now I am feeling a little concerned. Does he need one more friend? Will he have time for a quick chat? Does he hang out with the Jonas Brothers? My God, his popularity knows no bounds!
Well, after that rude awakening, I begin to send out invitations to friends both old and new. I can tell you this right now, there is nothing more humbling then having to send an email to your 17 year old neighbor asking if he wants to be friends. Or wait, there is. It is seeing that he has 604 friends on his account. What the f*ck? How the hell does a teenager from Eugene know 600 people. He has so many friends, he has a whole different section of top friends. Oh Geez. I know I am not considered one of his top friends (I know this because I looked), but I am praying that he does not put me in the bottom friends list. That is even more humiliating than asking him to be my friend.
So after all that, I am actually beginning to reconnect with some people which is awesome. I also have not been able to leave the computer this entire day which is not good. I have been on Facebook for about 36 hours and I am completely addicted. I have not even been on Perez Hilton today. The fact that I am writing this now is only because I
a.) have another window open to continually check my account
b.) have a link to connect to this blog from my facebook account.
Hopefully I can get some sleep tonight....if I can tear myself away from the computer.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Cabo San Lucas


A year ago this week, James and I were able to take a vacation without the kids to Cabo San Lucas for a week. We stayed at an all inclusive resort and got to spend time with some of his Aramark buddies. We ate, drank, sunbathed and went on a jet ski expedition. Here is some highlights of the trip.
We went down to Cabo for a week for an Aramark event and extended it out to celebrate our 5 year wedding anniversary (yeah, I can't believe it has been five years either!). Checked in to our upgraded room to find that there were, uh how should I say this, very open room amenities. The bathroom had an open wall, so if one wished, they could look out to the ocean while doing their business. It was separated by Japanese shutters that would continuously fly open. In case you are not getting the full picture, there is absolutely NO privacy in the bathroom. Now I know different cultures have different ways to spell R-O-M-A-N-C-E, but sharing all of my business with my husband is not how I planned on sharing our week together. He promised that we would work it out while I prayed harder than I ever prayed before that I would not get Montezuma's revenge! Only my best girlfriends could understand my mortification at this point.

Most of the week we just layed out by the pool, drank, and ate. If you have never seen my in a bathing suit before, my body is a cross of Jessica Alba and Jessica Simpson. If you have seen me in a bathing suit before, if you could please kindly refrain from responding, that would be greatly appreciated! Let's not ignore the fact that I was with a girl who did look like a Victoria Secret model the entire trip. We did end up taking a 2 1/2 hour jet ski tour while we were there. THAT WAS INTERESTING. Now I must say that going jet skiing in Lake Tahoe is quite different from doing it in the Pacific Ocean. We are getting our instructions from the instructor and he said as soon as we got on the jet ski we had to gun it or we would never make it over the 5ft swells that were coming in. Um excuse me? Yeah, that is not going to work for me. Do you have like a large ship to take me out to where the water is calm. Oh, you don't. I see. Well I will be just getting off this jet ski followed by James saying "Get on the damn jet ski". Now if you know me you know how I love X-treme sports just as much as the next guy (for those of you who do not know me as well, this is a complete lie, I can find danger in reading a book), but when I agreed to a jet-ski expedition I thought it was going to be a nice smooth ride. Well I was wrong. My heart is racing, I have the man (not helping my situation by the way) screaming behind us to GUN IT, GUN IT OR YOU ARE NOT GOING TO MAKE IT, James in Tim the Tool Man Taylor driver mode (more power, more power) and I just start praying "Hail Mary full of grace the lord is with thee, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, God d*mn it, I am messing up the prayer, sh*t, I just said the lord's name in vain, mother f*cker, damn, I just said mother f*cker when praying to Mary, this can not be good. OK, anybody up there, if you could please delete those last prayers and just save me from dying in a jet ski accident that would be greatly appreciated" (I swear this was what was going on through my head verbatim). So we go over the swell and land (hard) right side up. Thank You, Thank You, Thank You Lord for listening to my prayers. I promise that I will not say your name in vain except to send out this email. OK, so I don't promise, but I will try really, really hard. So as we are bouncing around, water is getting all over my face and eyes (so glad I brushed my teeth with bottled water), trying not to think of the feces and germs that are spreading over my body I began to realize that I was having fun. My behind took a major beating, but I felt good that I overcame my fear (and for all of you who think that I worry too much about the dangers of Mexico, let me introduce you to my husband who we found out today got a staph infection from the jet ski. Awesome!)
Later on that night, while I was changing for dinner, James caught a glimpse of my behind and literally fell off the bed laughing with tears coming down his face. WHAT, I said. He replied "You have two major bruises on your behind" AWESOME. Nothing like a moral booster to get the night going. Not like I am going to be in a swim suit or anything for the rest of the week! Oh well, I guess I will go have another drink to cover the pain.
The week was great, a well deserved vacation, but it was time to go home and see our babies. We had missed them so much and could not wait to be with them again. That lasted about 5 minutes until they started fighting again and I decided we needed another vacation!

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Traveling






For those of you who know The Blackwood's, you know that we travel frequently throughout the west coast. We are going to Las Vegas next weekend, and going to the Bay Area two weeks after that. We usually travel to the Bay Area by car, since air travel for 4 is so expensive, and it is usually an experience to remember. I pulled up an email I sent out from last year about our trip home after my sister's wedding. At the time, both James and I were feeling under the weather "read: hungover" and had to endure the 8 hour drive back home in a car (we now have a new SUV with DVD player: key in traveling). Reading this email made me smile, but I can promise you I was not smiling on that car trip home. Here is the email. Enjoy.

My sister's wedding was a blast. We got to see most of our family and friends and party the night away. I did not eat or drink any water the whole day and than drank an excessive amount throughout the night which = sickness by the end of the night. No matter. I woke up like a champ and had breakfast with my dad, James' dad, step-dad and brother for father's day and then like a champ (read moron) had one of my father-in-laws famous bloody Mary's. James and I decided that we just were ready to get home so we got into our heavily packed car to head home after a few visits. Since we travel to the Bay almost every month, we should have this drive down, but unfortunately that day was not the case. About 20 minutes into the drive Jimmy woke up from his nap and began saying he wanted out. Alyssa asked how much longer it was going to be. Only 7 hours and 40 minutes to go kids I replied cheerily. 20 more minutes into it, Alyssa needed to go to the bathroom. Got back into the car 20 minutes later had to stop because Jimmy was thirsty. And then they were hungry. Then they needed to stretch their legs. After all the bathroom breaks, drinks bought, legs stretched , dinner eaten, we got into the car, determined to make it home. (we were in Redding at this time. 3 hours away from the Bay yet 6 hours into our trip). Jimmy has started to speak and now has this cute (annoying when hungover) habit of identifying objects that he sees. At about 4 1/2 hours into our drive the sun began to set. Jimmy was pointing it out. Here is how the conversation went. Please keep in mind that I was horribly hungover with a migraine from listening to all the whining and crying from my children the whole day.
Jimmy: "Sun"
Mom: "Good that is the sun"
Jimmy: "Sun"
Mom: "Yes, see the yellow sun"
Jimmy: "Sun"
Mom: "Yes Jimmy I see the sun. Now sun has to go bye byes, bye bye sun"
Jimmy: "SUN"
Mom: "Yes, I see the sun, we are finished talking about the sun"
Jimmy "SUUUUUNNNN"
Mom: "Yes Jimmy I see the sun. The g*d d*mn sun is piercing my g*d d*mn retina's. We are done talking about the sun. Say goodnight to the sun"
Jimmy: SUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
Mom: "I SEE THE SUN. I HATE THE SUN. IF YOU SAY SUN ONE MORE TIME I AM GOING TO THROW MYSELF FROM THIS MOVING VEHICLE. DO NOT SAY SUN ONE MORE TIME!"
James: "Are you OK?"
Jimmy: "Sun"
Mom: "ARRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
About 1/2 hour after that we stopped for our 7Th time after Jimmy threw up all over the car. That orange chicken we stopped for in Redding no longer seemed like a good idea. While James cleaned up the car (God I love that man) I got to hang out in tweekerville getting all of the cleaning supplies. I am not lying, the man behind the counter was so jittery he was making my heart go fast and had the full on uncontrollable arm twitches. OK Time to go honey! We tried to make it home in one shot, but in the end it was not the case. We got a hotel room 2 1/2 hours from our house, slept in our clothes, and left the next morning in the same clothes. We arrived home, and I thought "home sweet home" for about 2 seconds until we started to unpack the car. Now I have to unpack the luggage, do 10 loads of laundry, put all the clothes away, put the suitcases away, and air out the foul smelling car before I get to sit down. I swear, I am never traveling again....at least for two more weeks until our next trip!

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Running

So I am trying very hard to be healthy and active. Since we live in Eugene (also known as Track Town USA), I have felt inspired to become a runner. Well, not so much a runner, probably more of a jogger. This 4th of July, I entered James and I into our first 5K. My expectation were actually very low and I figured if I ran it halfway, I would be very proud of myself. We arrived at the beginning point of the race and my people watching skills (read, making fun of people in my head) were in full force. There were the very serious runners who warmed up for what seemed to be an hour, stretching, jumping in the air, sprinting, just doing all sorts of crazy stuff. They were decked out in their Nike gear from head to toe (Eugene is also known as Nike Town USA) and just ready to conquer the world....err race. Then you had the other end of the spectrum of the walkers (they walked 4 miles). This was a lot less serious of a crowd (my type of crowd) but some just were not serious enough. There were some people who showed up in jeans. Jeans. Jeans in July. Jeans on a 4 miles walk. There was also one family who were dressed in dresses from the FLDS catalog (actually, I think that there may be a FLDS ranch around here, because I see families like them everywhere). My favorite though, was a group of moms out with their strollers about to walk their first walk in years. They came prepared with a bunch of bananas, protein bars, cheese sticks, rice cakes, crackers, bottled waters, Gatorade, juice, and coffee. There were six in this group, three of which were not old enough to walk yet. I would like to remind you again this was for a 4 mile walk. I don't know. Maybe they were preparing for an earthquake or something.
So we are getting set for the race to begin and you can feel the excitement in the air. I put on my Ipod and James does the same and we are off. There are two things that I would like to point out here. I am now convinced that God is in charge of your Ipod shuffle playlist since the perfect songs came up at the perfect times. Number 2, people are a**holes at the beginning of the race. The gun goes off and James and I are being pushed, shoved, elbowed and kicked. It took a moment for this to settle in before my fighting spirit came into effect and I began to do the same. I followed James as he navigated through the crowd while my Ipod played Ludacris' "Move B*tch, Get out the Way" (It is a very catchy tune for those of you not familiar with the song) Anyhoo, after about 10 minutes James and I found a spot for ourselves in the pact and it was on.
The first water station came up, which was a good thing since I was so dehydrated I was drinking my own spit (I had not had anything to drink that morning because I forgot my water bottle at home). I was focusing on my run, and I saw the more experienced runners drinking and running at the same time, so I figured, I can do this. I grabbed a cup and tried to drink the water I so desperately needed. That was not one of my better ideas. I looked like a person who just had their entire mouth numb with Novocaine and then trying to drink water. I got nothing in my mouth and everything down the front of my tank top and running pants (both Nike, I would like to point out!). I then had to make a split second decision and decide if I was going to follow the running crowd and just throw the cup on the ground, or keep up with the environmental crowd that was dumping the empty cups in the trash. I dumped mine in the trash since there were people out there with camera's and I was too scared that I would be on the front page od the Register Guard tastelessly littering on the streets of Eugene. I also was still dehydrated, but did not know the acceptable social mores of drinking more than one cup of water during a run at the same water station, so I continued on thirsty as hell.
We take off past the water station and move onto the open road where the sun is beating down on our backs. I am thirsty, cramping and now extremely hot. I start to slow down to walk and indicate to James that he can keep on going without me. He did not need a lot of convincing to leave me by myself (I think I run a much slower pace than he is used to). Anyhoo, I see him take off and up pops a new song on my Ipod. It is none other than MC Hammer "Too Legit to Quit". (Stop laughing right now. I do not know why I love Hammer so much, but his songs pump me up while exercising). I begin to run again and I see James only a few feet away from me, but decide not to run quickly to catch up since I would enjoy setting my own pace.
I begin to look around at my new running buddies and start laughing when I see this man with his "partner" power walking in some nutters "aka: very short shorts". I really can not describe in accurate terms how silly this looked, or how even the most manliest of men could not look athletic while swinging their hips to and fro on their impressive power walking pace. I saw a fireman up ahead (Hello!), and some college students. Now I really did not have a desire to catch up to James! We hit the second water station ( I stopped to chug some very needed H2O and I took a second cup. F*ck social mores. At this point, I am close to collapsing) and I caught my second wind. I decided to catch up to Mr. Fireman and set him into my sights. Before long, I pull up next to Mr. Fireman and came up to two depressing thoughts. One, I was keeping pace (just barely) with the fireman who was in full uniform, including boots, jacket, pants and helmet, holding a large pole carrying an even larger American Flag. Two, the men who were power walking were still ahead of me.
The last mile hit and I was hot, I was tired, and I was over running. I kept wanting to stop to walk, but there were so many people cheering on the sidelines that I felt stupid to just stop right in front of them. Just then my Ipod shuffled to The Toadies "Possum Kingdom". The lead singer is asking me "Do you want to die" and I am thinking to myself, yes, I want to die. Then again "Do you want to die." Again, my answer has not changed. Then for the powerful note "DO YOU WANT TO DIE" Yes! I am screaming in my head. Yes, I want to die! Not only do I want to die at this point and time, I think that there may a distinct possibility that I am very close to death. The people on the sideline continue to cheer on and I am thinking to myself "F*ck Off! It sure is easy to just stand there and cheer isn't it!" (I was no longer in a good mood in case you could not tell). Then, from the sidelines, I heard the best news of my life. "You are almost there!. Just a little bit more" A smile came onto my face (actually, I don't know if you could actually call it a smile since I had severe pant going on, but my intent was to smile). Just then, the Ipod shuffled to Journey "Don't Stop Believin'" and that is how I finished my race.
After I finished my race, I encountered a lot of questions. The main one was "How did you do?" I am thinking to myself "Pretty f*cking good. I finished" But what people really want to know is "What was your time?" Why do you need to know that? I FINISHED, and really, isn't THAT the most important thing? Evidently not. So to answer your question, I averaged about a 10 minute mile. To me, that is not too shabby. To the average runner, that is not too impressive. Oh well.
There are two sidenotes on that day that need to be pointed out. One, my husband, who I love dearly, but only exercises twice a year, beat me by 3 minutes. I was more than annoyed, since my ass is at the gym 4 to 6 times a week. Second, the race was my idea. I registered us, I got us there, got all the information, etc. Who do you think got their picture taken for their website featuring the Butte to Butte? That's right. Mr. James Blackwood himself. I thought he looked pretty damn good running, but I would have liked some photographic evidence that I ran this event. There is always next year. The photographer, unfortunatley is charging an insane amount of money to get one picture, so I can not share it with you, but here is the link to his picture (and no, the woman in front of him is not me!)
http://www.backprint.com/view_user_event.asp?PID=bp%1BxFw&EVENTID=38078&PWD=&BIB=4526

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Vegas








So James and I went to Vegas to celebrate a co bachelor/bachelorette party for our good friends Jim and Alexis. We left Eugene at 3am to catch a 7am flight in Portland to Vegas. We landed in Vegas to the mild temperature of 110 degrees and hit the ground running. Guys and girls split up and the girls went to MGM Wet Republic pool where we had a bed and bottle waiting for us. As soon as we arrived, the girls stripped down in their two pieces and I was left all alone in my cute but conservative sundress. The girls (which I would like at this time to point out that none of them have children) could not understand why I would not get into my bathing suit. They obviously have not had two children with excessive weight gain during both pregnancies. They really have no idea what happens to a woman's body after children. Their naivete was somewhat entertaining when they promised that nobody at the pool would notice or judge. I chuckled at that notion seeing as I was already judging everybody around me and who had the best/worst bodies. They ran into the pool unable to convince me and I begin to relax on the bed by the pool. This lasted for about 10 seconds until I figured out that laying out in 110+ degree heat is not very enjoyable. The bed that we had did have a massive umbrella but the host who set it up had the area behind the bed completely shaded so that you could "tan/burn" while laying on the bed. Now (as if not calling enough attention to myself seeing as I am the only person at the whole pool who is not in a swimsuit) I am forced to bend over behind the bed, trying to get my entire body in the shaded area since I am too tall to stand entirely under the umbrella. The day just got too warm and I left for a nap and an air conditioned room.
That evening the girls and I went to Koi at the new Planet Hollywood hotel. We sit down and somebody immediately orders a round of Saki bombs. As I begin to object, I can see the other girls looking at me like "who invited the mom and is she going to be a downer the whole weekend?" and I convinced myself that I was a.) going to take the sake bomb, and b.) not going to throw up after taking the Saki bomb. Lucky for me, the Saki bomb was a success and the night took off from there.
We left dinner and went to Prive, a club at Planet Hollywood, and got table service there. This is key when going to Vegas so that you are not smashed up against other people who are drinking and smoking and "accidentally" spill their red drink down your brand new white shirt, or burn a hole into your arm so that your are permanently branded with a giant circle on your tricep. The music started, I began dancing, and the girls opinions of me soon changed. We had a blast and I had a few pickup lines thrown out my way to help booster my ego. Ironically, men in Vegas do not care when you tell them that you are married. They do however, run like hell, when you tell them that you are a stay at home mom.
The next day, the entire party met up at Tao Beach where we had a cabana and bottle service again. Seeing as I am no longer 22 years old, I apparently can not drink as much as I used to. That morning, morning sickness seemed like a vacation compared to the hell I was going through. No matter, we wanted to make an appearance and participate in our friends events for the weekend so we showed our faces (which no doubt were several shades of green) and went to the pool. The cabana had couches, chairs, air conditioning, flat screen tv, guitar hero, and again, multiple bottles of booze. Well, if University of Arizona taught me anything, it is that drinking always seems to cure a hangover. I began to test this theory, and ended up staying at the pool the entire day (again, in a sun dress).
That evening the parties combined and we went to The Bank at The Bellagio and partied all night there with table/bottle service (see a theme here?). We had a blast and rolled in to our room again at 5am. The next morning was harsh but we all agreed that this was the best weekend ever.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Camping


I am pretty sure that some of you are shocked to see camping and highlights in the same sentence used by yours truly, but shockingly enough, I did have a good time. James rented out and entire campground for all of our friends to enjoy. The kids had a blast getting positively filthy (except for their hands which I continually had them soak in antibacterial soap), playing in the river, and throwing water balloons at mom (dad thought that was funny, mom, not so much). Alyssa caught her first fish ( a huge one) about 5 minutes into fishing, so her expectations are high for the next fishing trip. I read my People magazine during the whole fishing expedition. I do not fish. Things were going really well until a massive thunderstorm hit that night. Try to imagine being in a tent in a torrential downpour, with enough thunder to shake the ground. Now imagine that scenario with 14 children all under the age of 7 dealing with the thunder throughout the campground. Nothing says a goodnight sleep with children screaming in terror throughout the night! Needless to say everybody left early the next morning. EXCEPT FOR THE BLACKWOOD's. Ohh no. James planned for 4 nights, and so we are going to stay for 4 nights. The thunder and lightning did not bother me, nor the animal noises. Nothing bothered me until we were all alone the last night, in the wilderness (well, we were parked right next to the highway, but that kind of takes away from the story), by ourselves. Alone. We were settling down for the night when I told James that he had to put our campfire completely out because I was scared that it was going to start a forest fire (again, I would not describe where we were staying as a forest, but in my defense, there were trees). He tried to explain that it had rained for 8 hours straight the night before, but I was not having it, so he had to douse (am I spelling that right?) the fire until there was no ember in sight. So then we get into the tent and I suddenly realized that if there was no fire, animals may come and try to get into our tent or campground. I told James he needed to start another fire, and he explained to me, as calmly as he could, that everything was wet, so there would be no fire that night. As I am cuddling in to the bed (yes, I had him buy me a raised bed for our tent, not just an air mattress), I begin to hear noises. I became convinced, no joke, convinced that there was somebody out in our campground coming to get us. Has your mind ever played tricks on you like that? I have never in my life (well, at least while I was sober) have my mind convincing me of things that were not there. All of a sudden, I hear a twig snap and wake James up (for the 4th time in 20 minutes) and tell him there is an assassin outside coming to get us. My usually supportive husband who was a little more than inebriated looked at me with disdain and said:
"An assassin? An assassin" Who hired an assassin to come get the Blackwood's during their camping trip?"
Well his comments did nothing for me, so I sent him out to go check on things. He came back in, finding nothing, and attempted to go back to sleep. Needless to say, we were up by 5 am and out of there with no sleep at all. Oh yeah, my kids covered with the grime of dirt mixed in with sun tan lotion, mixed in with bug spray, mixed with river water got into the car and than Jimmy threw up. The more I think about it now, the more I have decided that actually, no, I do not like camping.