Snow Tubing!

One thousand layers of clothes.

Leggings, jeggings, stretchy pants, Walmart wind pants, two shirts, a northface, a winter jacket, and faux Uggs. Those were the layers I wore this weekend on our snow tubing trip, in that exact order. Also underwear. And I'm glad I did, because otherwise I would have wound up with a butt full of snow like my sister.

I haven't laughed that hard in YEARS. Watching people slide down the hill and bite it half way down was the highlight of my life.

Here's how it works. First, you get on the tow rope. And by tow rope, I mean giant cable that revolves around with hooks on it that a guy with a neck tattoo hooks you up to. The loop runs around the gear at the bottom of the hill and YANKS you up backwards so you're facing down the mountain on your way up, watching your friends fall on their asses trying to get their own tubes on the tow rope.

So you get up to the top of the hill, and there's a sign that says: UNLOAD HERE. Was I paying attention, while riding up the mountain backwards, enjoying the view? Of course not. So I missed the sign with clear instructions, and promptly hear "MAAM! MAAM! UNLOAD!" In a panic, I spun around in my tube and realized I had passed the sign. Bundled arms and legs flailing, I managed to roll my seven layers of pants out of the tube and plopped face first into the snow. The worker guy kindly retrieved my tube, and I trudged the rest of the way up to the top of the hill to prepare for the descent.

So you snuggle your butt into the hole in the middle of the tube, hand the top worker guy the rope attached to your tube and hold on for dear life as he takes a running start and shoves you down the hill violently. 

I screamed the entire way down.

THEN, we discovered you can link your tubes together and go in a group. Big mistake. Huge. You FLY down the hill, white-knuckle grasping the rope of the people attached to you as tightly as you can, trying not to break free from the pack. The snow flies up in your face so fast that if you try to laugh, you get a mouth full of snow. When we finally skidded to a stop at the bottom, I rolled my layered ass out of that tube and laughed so hard I thought I might throw up.

Four hours (and several pitchers of beer from the lodge) later, we were on our way home with wet socks and an arsenal of hilarious stories.

The awesome tubing hill is to the left.

It was one of the most hilarious and entertaining experiences of my life. And if you've never been, you should TOTALLY do it. Relive your younger days and take the plunge. You'll laugh yourself into a snow coma.

Police Blotter Friday: They're called handcuffs for a reason, idiot.

This amazing small town police blotter blip comes to us all the way from Bozeman, Montana. 

"Police helped a man who accidentally locked a set of handcuffs onto his wrists in South Hedges Hall around 3:40pm. Police removed the cuffs."

Dear sir who accidentally locked a set of handcuffs onto your wrists: what exactly were you doing when this occurred? Were you playing an intense game of 'cops and robbers' with your nine-year-old son when things got really real, really fast? Are you a retired cop who was demonstrating to a first grade class how to put handcuffs on a criminal? Or did you find yourself in a compromising position at a bachelor party after a costumed lady of the night asked you to put your hands behind your back?

Another thing I'd like to ask you, sir, is why this call occurred at 3:40pm. We're talking broad daylight. And even if the bachelor party lasted until the wee hours of the morning, I'm pretty sure you didn't spend 12 hours locked in those handcuffs before you managed to shimmy your way to a telephone so you could phone it in.

What else were you wearing when the police came to unlock you? Because I'm picturing boxer briefs and a pair of dress socks. MAYBE a wifebeater. Maybe.

And lastly, how did you manage to make the call to police? Did your lady friend help you dial the numbers? Did she hold the phone up to your ear while you told police about the embarrassing situation you found yourself in?

Sir, I hope you were released from the confinement of your handcuffs and have continued about your life with a lesson learned: even if they are covered in cheetah-print fur, they still have the capacity to incapacitate you. Now you know, and knowing is half the battle.

Clarity

Happy Friday, babies! Okay, so this post is to elaborate a bit on yesterday's post. See, if you haven't figured it out already, here's the thing about me. Sometimes I get on a ramble and I just GO. K and my sister know this well, since I'll call them and ramble on for 45 minutes before I realize we got disconnected. So, to elaborate...

This year has been filled with a lot of stress for my family and I. My Grandma passed away in August, the same weekend I moved in with K, actually. It was the craziest thing I've ever experienced, and I'm not sure I've completely come to terms with it yet. I still have her number in my cell phone, I just can't bring myself to delete it.

There are a number of other things that have gone on like rapid fire, one after another. You know how that is, right? Something goes wrong, and then the whole card castle comes fluttering down. And I remember thinking to myself a few months ago: really? It was all a bit overwhelming. It still is.

I'll tell you what, though-- it has shown me how incredibly strong K and my sister have been for me. That weekend that I had to go back to the mitten for my Grandma's funeral, K had to move the entire contents of my apartment to the house along with the help of his friend, both of whom I'll be forever grateful to. So while I was with my family in Michigan trying to process that I had lost my only living grandmother, my apartment was being moved. I came home to a new home, and though it was a good transition--it was still a transition. One that I've never been happier that I decided to make.

Yesterday, I watched Eat, Pray, Love. I think that's pretty much all I had to say to explain my post, but I'll go on. It made me think about the times I had when I went on my study abroad backpacking trip to Europe six years ago, and how much I miss it. I think while on that trip, I realized the tools I need to be happy in life. To rise above whatever is going on and maintain my sanity, and some clarity. And quite honestly, in recent months, I have lost that sense of clarity. I've been so caught up in all of the drama of my life, swimming so far deep without a sense of how to surface, and it's taken its toll on me.

I just want to remember how to rise above it all. How to deal with everything with grace and dignity, and to feel like myself again--happy, carefree, giddy, despite whatever is going on. And now that I'm more aware of it, I think it will be a little easier to return to that place. Hopefully this post was a bit less cryptic, and left you feeling with a better sense of what the hell is going on. (If you figure it out, can you give me a call? I'd love to be clued in!)

With a blog, some posts are lovestruck, some are funny, and some are just plain self-indulgently theraputic. So if you're in for the ride, keep reading about my life. At the very least, I'm usually good for some comic relief. Maybe I'll post a little Police Blotter Friday action later to make up for it.

And on a brighter note: we have some good friends coming to visit the next couple of weekends, so stay tuned for posts about our (probably slightly intoxicated) adventures!

Be quiet.

I have forgotten how to be quiet. I've forgotten how to listen, how to conjure up those feelings of peace and happiness without needing an outside catalyst.

In the past year, I've allowed things to get me down, and I need to remember how to get to the place where they don't bother me anymore.

I remember a moment six years ago, riding on a train through Italy. I was in a lot of turmoil--I had left a bad relationship, my heart was broken. I was trying to figure out how to heal myself on a seven week journey backpacking through Europe. It wasn't why I left, but it was an underlying theme throughout the trip. I had tried to block it out--the bad memories, all of the pain. Nothing seemed to help. I spent weeks trying to forget what had happened. Then, there was this moment on the train--I was listening to Lifehouse on my ipod, watching the gorgeous scenery go by, the dim sounds of excited conversation surrounding me in a pillow of solitude. And it was then that I had the glowing moment of happiness, and I realized how lucky I was. To have this opportunity to travel, to be on this adventure of a lifetime, meeting amazing friends. Suddenly--I just knew that everything would be okay. My friend Vic took this picture of me in that moment, the perfect moment. I'll be forever grateful to him for that.

Me, on a train in Italy.

I miss the clarity of that solitude, the brightness of that glow that rises up inside of you when you realize you are the luckiest person in the world. When you're thankful for the beautiful little things in life: a sunset, a cup of coffee, the two-hour conversation I had with my Dad yesterday, singing in my car at the top of my lungs, and the smile on K's face when I catch his eye across a crowded room.

I am the luckiest girl in the world.

I think remembering how to be quiet will follow. Maybe meditation, or a yoga class will help. Or maybe K and I should take off for another seven weeks to Europe...

A Sweaty Old Friend

Yesterday was my maiden voyage to the gym this year. I know, I know... I said it was my new year's resolution. I'm sorry, I lied. I pay a membership for every month. It's only $10, but I still cringe when I see it debited from my account, like a tiny little elf poking me in the side, saying--hey, you paid for this, and you DIDN'T EVEN USE IT!

Oh elf. Leave me alone.

I really enjoy the magical weight loss remedies that present themselves as the solution to all of your weight loss problems. "They're these weird Swedish nutrition bars my mom uses to lose weight. It burns carbs. It just burns up all your carbs."

The solution is no secret, and we all know what it is. Eat right and exercise. I know, I'm one to talk... but come on people! No magical pills are going to do it. Putting foreign chemicals into your body isn't going to help. All we have to do is nom on some veggies and get our booties to the gym, and we'll be good to go. It's easier said than done, trust me--I know.

But I did manage to get back to the gym yesterday. I blew the dust off and creaked open the cobwebbed drawer containing my workout clothes and drove myself there. When I walked in the door, I half expected millions of balloons to fall from the ceiling and a sounding round of applause from the patrons. Thank you! Thank you! *Miss America Wave*

It was like revisiting an old friend. A very sweaty, loud old friend wearing a wifebeater and swishy pants. And it really did feel good to get back; I'm hoping to stay in the game this time and actually use my membership. And the good news is-- I think I waited long enough that I missed the rush of New Year's Resolutioners. See, I totally did it on purpose.

My Cat Voice

My social skills have been severely eroded by working from home full time. In the past 2 years, I went from getting up every day and putting my work clothes on to being lucky if I change from stretchy pants to pajama pants at the end of the day.

Now don't get me wrong, there are lots of awesome things about it too. There's no commute. I don't have to drive in any kind of bad weather. I don't have to do my hair if I don't want to, which is awesome since it takes forEVER to dry this mop. (See post: Why I had a pixie cut in high school) It's also awesome because it allows me to feed my latest addiction: Gilmore Girls. I can watch it all day long if I want. And Maury. We'll save that closet addiction for a later post.

But I'll tell you what... it's pretty strange not having human contact all day. There's no water cooler antics, no guy from accounting bringing in doughnuts on Friday, nobody to chat with about the weekend's events. There's no cute work clothes, no birthday parties in the kitchen, no separation between work and home. My coworkers are cats. And frankly, I think I'm starting to forget how to talk to people.

See, I've got different voices.

1.) My Professional Voice. Used for speaking with coworkers (which I currently have none of), clients, and my boss. This includes using full sentences and proper grammar, no swear words or acronyms. Sarcasm is kept at a minimum to avoid confusion and/or judgment from my peers.
2.) My Friend Voice. Used for speaking with friends. Swear words, acronyms, heavy sarcasm...sometimes a friendly punch in the gut or a high five. Anything goes.
3.) My Cat Voice. Now this voice is secret, and used to and for the cats exclusively. Only the problem is, this voice has currently started leaking into instances in which only other voices are appropriate. I did my best to hide my cat voice from K for the first year or so of our relationship, saving my "WHO'S MOMMY'S BEEG BOY?" for Linus, only when we were alone. But now we all live together. And slowly, I have found my cat voice creeping in when K is around. I try not to scare him too much, but really it's inevitable, since this is the voice I use all day long when nobody else is here.

The cat voice creeps in sometimes when I'm on the phone with my boss, too. How do you sign off on the phone? I think I've forgotten how, since the last few times we've spoken, right before I hang up the phone, I go: "buh bye."

Buh bye? Reeeeal professional.

So I'm thinking I need some extra human contact STAT. Maybe going back to the gym will help. I can be that annoying girl on the treadmill, trying to chat up the lady next to me in my cat voice: "HAI STRANGER. WHOOOO'S MOMMY'S BEEG GIRL?"

Dear Britney

Dear Britney,

I saw your new music video today, and I single-handedly started a slow clap for you that began in my kitchen and (I'm sure) reverberated across at least New York State.

I really liked the white dress and the fancy lights. I also liked the tribute to Rocky Horror with the lips. I want you to know, Britney, that I was always pulling for you. I watched you spin into a nightvisiony downward spiral, and I cringed along with the rest of America as you reverted to your white trash ways, but I always knew you had a little more Hit Me Baby One More Time in you. I stood by your side through the popping out of K-Fed's spawn, through the breakup, through the umbrella spaz. And I'm standing by your side now.

Well done.

For years, you have been a symbol of hope for Disney Mouseketeers everywhere. We counted on you to wrap giant snakes around your bikini-clad body and show us what the American Dream was really all about. We watched you go from America's sweetheart to snake tamer extraordinaire. As young impressionable girls, we looked to your photoshopped posters as an impossible physical standard to make our boyfriends drool, and some of us snickered as you hit rock bottom.

But not me, Britney.

I was always there for you, waiting for you to dump the zero and get with a hero. It started with the Glee episode devoted to your iconic musical history, and continued through your newest music video. You haven't disappointed, Britney, and I slow clap for you.

Keep up the good work, and stay away from umbrellas and beard trimmers.

XOXO,
PGG