This weekend means more DeFazio Family Fun Time. Dad, Judy, Bubba and I are headed to Uncle Tim and Aunt Jeanette’s cabin in Willow Creek. I haven’t been up there in years and am greatly looking forward to some time with the family. The fact that there’s a pool doesn’t hurt either. And cocktail hour! Oh, cocktail hour. Nothing warms my heart like having my uncle bring me a margarita on the deck.
I cannot express how excited I am for a weekend like this. Wearing my hair in pigtails, never changing out of my swimsuit and playing with the munchkin…pretty muc like when I was six. If I’m feeling ambitious I might read a little and do some writing of my own, but frankly that sounds too hardcore for me.
I did some research on Willow Creek and apparently it’s the Bigfoot capital of the world. How did I not know this before? Wait, there’s more! There’s an annual festival in honor of Bigfoot, and it starts this weekend. How awesome did my weekend just get?
Hey, remember that time I regaled you with tales of cramps? Yeah. Well, Normal Christen is here, so we can go back to discussing my hair and drinking. Comforting, no?
Last night I was watching the Democratic National Convention and I momentarily flashed back to being 10 and annoyed when regular TV was pre-empted for all of the boring speeches and I knew Dukakis wasn’t going to be president anyway, so why were we watching this stuff? Kind of funny what childhood stuff sticks and what doesn’t. Anyway, I enjoy “the boring speeches” now and hearing Biden and Obama talk just got me all excited for the future because I am an optimist and idealist at heart. I got all fired up and wanted to yell out “Steve Holt!”* but refrained.
My conversation with Dad was cut short last night by the sounds of screams coming from a certain toddler who, from what I could gather, was refusing to put on his jammers and begin The Bedtime Routine. That aside, my dad sounds about a jabillion times better than he did a week ago and our whole family appreciates the concern and love you’ve been showing. Interweb, you’re aces.
I’m on the hunt for black knee-high boots, ideally sexy enough to rock on the weekends, but classy enough that I could wear them to work, too. So if you see any could you let me know? Thanks.
*If you get that reference, please let me know so we can make out or something.
I’m really OK with most aspects of being single. Going to weddings alone is fine; you don’t bring a sandwich to a buffet. I come and go as I please and have vacation plans keeping me busy through 2010. But right about now it would be awesome to have someone around to bring me Advil, water and a heating pad. Not to mention perform other, um… services that help with cramps. Don’t even suggest hiring an escort for this. It’s like paying a hooker to hold you and I haven’t reached that level of desperation.
At the risk of regressing to junior high, I’m about five minutes away from writing myself a note to get out of work due to “lady problems” so I can go home and curse womanhood.
Weird thing is, I also want chocolate. Yeah, you heard me.
At least I’m not like this:
Classes have started on our campus and I find myself overwhelmed with the urge to tell the young women strutting around in tube tops and hot pants to go home and put on some clothes. Nice, Old Lady DeFazio. Don’t forget to pick up some Geritol on the way home from work.
In reality I’m probably just bitter that when I was at an age where one could pull off this particular look I was far too self-conscious to even entertain the idea. Now that ship has sailed and I’m annoyed that I somehow wasted my teens and early twenties wearing five layers of clothing and hiking boots. Comfortable? Sure. Cute? No, not even a little bit.
The whole Catholic-school-dress-code and college-in-Tacoma (land of polar fleece and Gortex) had an impact on my fashion choices. Still, I wish Present Me could go back in time and tell Past Me not to be such an uptight bitch.
Things That Have Made Me Smile Today:
-Coffee Guy telling me he likes my orange top and “You know you looked in the mirror today and thought ‘I look good!'”
-The picture of Evan in a wet suit I tacked up on my office wall
-Sour Patch Kids
-Having this: http://renz-o.blogspot.com/ sent to me
Things That Have Made Me Homicidal Today:
-Those darn kids walking and text messaging at the same time
-First day of school traffic
-Tummy ache after too many Sour Patch Kids
-Seriously, guys, look where you are walking. You can text “OMG LOL” when you reach your destination. Walk into me again and I will cut you.
Girl Chris and Boy Chris flank Fritz, father of the bride. We LOVE Kim’s family. I was greeted with, “It’s THE Girl Chris!” and a huge hug. Then Fritz asked me to help him take care of some chardonnay. Who am I to refuse such a request? He was thrilled to be photographed with the Chrises.
After the reception we headed over to Kim and Justin’s sweet new townhouse. It’s awesome and perfect for entertaining. Around this time Boy and Girl decided shots were in order. God bless the Kimmer: she had some tequila on hand. The Sigma Chi shot glasses added an extra touch of class.
Grabbing a drink before dinner at McMenamin’s. Kim’s adorable friend Jean, Beautiful Bride Kimberly, and Girl Chris. Chug those beers ladies! Our table is ready down the street…
We were carded at dinner, which always warms my heart. Boy felt the need to sass the waitress so she skipped his drink order. Oh, snap! Then we headed out to a new bar, because God forbid we sit still.
Dude, you’re stuck with her now. Kim is possibly the cutest drunk ever.
This place offered party bowls, which just leads to trouble. If someone ever suggests a drink called an “Adios Motherfucker” just say “no.” Don’t think about it: JUST SAY “NO” and then switch to water. Don’t agree to a race to see who can drink which bowl the fastest, and if people call you a “pussy” just take it. Don’t be a hero. Nothing the color of Windex should be consumed by humans. But it is tasty.
The drink in question in front of Katie and Boy Chris.
Jen amused and semi-horrified by the drunken antics taking place around her. Jen has a Magellan-like sense of direction and got us all over Portland with no issues. She was also a huge hit with the homeless teens who called out, “Hey Woman, what’s your name?” Her husband is a great guy and all, but always nice to know you have options.
What, you DIDN’T want a picture I took of myself down the front of my dress? Sorry. See kids, THIS is why we say “NO” to the party bowls.
I woke up Sunday hungover and covered in bruises. And I felt like I had whiplash, too, which was weird. I also found a note in my purse that read, “YOU ARE BEEFY” and was in Boy Chris’ handwriting. No idea what that meant.
As the token Single Person I entertained/scared my friends with stories of my life and gamely participated in a Q&A session about What Went Down and The World of Dating Now.
Portland is now on the short list of places where I might end up at some point. Great friends, clean, affordable…even my hair looked better when I was there. Portland, you really may be the land of milk and honey!