I HEART LIFE!!

For whatever reason, I am filled with the lightest, happiest bit of sunshine this morning. I suppose it could be I'm still a bit intoxicated from last night, or maybe that my morning headache has gone for now, or maybe because I'm listening to Jason Mraz - "I'm Yours" over and over.

It could also be, that after close examination of last night's events, I realize I escaped death, most certainly. I'm alive today....thanks angels.

Let me start over, and tell you a tale of a fun, wild, spectacular, and lucky evening...

In my sweatpants and t-shirt, without a bra, and my hair still wrapped in a towel, I embarked on the adventure of cooking dinner for my neighbors last night. Fried chicken and Janelle's Famous Mac 'n Cheese. Yummmmm. I had planned to change clothes before they all arrived, but as the story usually goes....I didn't have time. No matter though, it wasn't a dress-up event, and I could've really cared less, to be honest.

After much wine drinking, and gobbling of yummy, cheesy, fried, and gooey goodness, a spontaneous game night broke out with Cranium Turbo - a must-have for any home! As most of the time, we are quite lame and don't play any games or do anything fun except drink and chat and smoke, we had a bit of a rough start. But soon enough, we were all laughing, doing charades, drawing pictures with our eyes closed, ridiculing each other, giving high-fives, and did I mention...laughing?

There's rarely a time when I get together with friends that something random and humiliating doesn't happen to me. And this was no exception. At one point, I got up to talk to a friend on the phone, and my sweatpants caught on the chair, uncovered my bare ass, and mooned my guests. It was nearly enough to kill us all....we were in stitches for at least 30 full minutes. At one point I started singing "Pants on the Ground" and we all lost it a little bit more. It was one of those giggle-fests to top the charts...the more I laughed, the more they laughed - the more they laughed, the more I laughed....and it went on and on until we were holding our stomachs and crying and almost pissing our pants. Good times.

So, after all of that excitement, my plan was to go out with my friend Pamela to a Reggae club close to my house. The neighbors retreated home with a big pile of giggling leftovers, and I embarked on the task of getting ready to club it! After calling Liz, my Hair Guru, and getting advice on what to do with my hair for a Reggae outing, I whipped myself into a hot little package, and went outside to meet Pamela for my next adventure.

She had told me it was casual...to wear jeans...so I did. Pamela and her friend Princezz were in the car, dressed like Nubian Queens, beautiful - their hair and bodies were wrapped in rainbows it seemed. From their ears dangled ginormous works of art, and they were adorned in silver things, and gold things, and pretty things galore. Needless to say, I imagined the Reggae club scene in "Never Been Kissed", and hoped beyond hope that I wouldn't end up being the crazy white girl who dances on the stage with a pink boa after eating the special brownies...

I climbed in the car, and after seeing these two women in all their African glory, I said, "Damn, I don't have any Reggae clothes." To which Princezz replied, "What EXACTLY are Reggae clothes?" Oops. Shit. Pamela, my saving grace, piped in, "She just means she's got no colors, that's all." Princezz seemed to understand this inside bit of information, so off we went happily to the club, and I was forgiven my near-racist remark.

The club was a dingy little hole-in-the-wall bar, with a Reggae band playing in it. Good. Perfect. For whatever reason, maybe because I was new...or fresh meat, so to speak, it seemed everybody in that bar wanted a piece of me. An old Rastafarian man in the band, two or three guys watching the band, the lead singer of the band, a couple of other randoms, and a little asian woman.....I swear to God I had a neon sign on my head that said "Elixir" or "Sex" or maybe even "I'm Easy". Shit, I dunno. But I was like the flame, in a moth pit. Sometimes I love nights like that. One guy told me it was all "in my eyes", that he could see EVERYTHING. Hmmm... Two or three of them gave me their numbers, and I danced with so many people I was sure I was floating at one point. I ended up picking the lead singer. Cutie for sure, great kisser, and for the last song he sung my request - "No Woman, No Cry" while we danced and kissed and twirled together...talented young man to accomplish all of that at once, actually. ;)

Fun is a small word to describe such an experience, but that's what it was.

My brush with danger, and possible bloody death occurred in the parking lot of the club. Everyone was packing up, and we were all planning on heading to another club. There were several cars getting ready for our caravan. On the opposite side of the parking lot were three Mexican gangsters that had been fighting for some time. My singer had attempted to approach them at one point, but retreated with the news that "it's none of our business, we don't see it". So, we went along with our own business and forgot about the potential gang war about to break out.

At some point I decided I needed to go home instead of to the next club. I was pooped, and it was 4am already. Most everybody was in a car at that point. I wanted to say goodbye to a few of the band guys. I ran up to this black car, windows tinted, but the driver's window was open all the way. I dove in and hugged the driver. It was the meanest of the Mexican gangsters...the instigator from earlier. He instantly had his hand on a big shiny gun, but I think was so surprised to have been hugged instead of hit, that he just yelled at me instead of shot me. That was nice of him. I guess there really is something to be said about a good hug.

Pamela drove me home, she and my singer came upstairs to get leftover chicken and try and convice me to come back out. I bid them both farewell, dove into a couple chicken legs myself, explained all the commotion to my freshly woken-up roommate, took some advil, and went to bed.

It was only this morning that I fully realized the extent of craziness that occurred last night....all of it. And all I really have left to say is.....

I HEART LIFE!

Fastest Bottle-Drinking Lamb

Today is the day Grandma Fishie went to sleep, and didn't wake up, 22 years ago.

For two-thirds of my life, Grandma Fishie has been gone. I really can't fathom that. She passed away when I was 10 years old. I can't remember much from when I was 10 years old, but I remember that, and most everything we did together up to then. And everything we've done together since.

When I was somewhere around 2nd grade, Grandma got me a lamb. A real lamb. They always had cows and dogs and other animals out at the fish farm, but for some reason, they had sheep that year. And she gave me my very own baby lamb! I think maybe she felt sorry for me. My Mom had just moved us all to a new town, I had no friends, and a student at the beauty school had just permed my hair to look like Little Orphan Annie. A boy at school had tugged on my hair and laughed, said it looked like a wig. I was devastated. So, she gave me Gabby. And Gabby made everything better.

If you've never seen a baby lamb up close, I've got to tell you, it's the cutest thing in the world. Gabby loved me like I was her mother, and she probably thought I was, since I was the one feeding her. She never stopped talking, hence the name Gabby. Grandma taught me how to make her bottle - a BIG bottle, and she would follow me around all day, looking for more. Hungry little critter. I washed her with the hose when she got muddy, I cuddled and played with her on the grass. We were best buddies.

Grandma read in the paper that at the "Scio Lamb Show" this year, there was going to be a "Fastest Bottle-Drinking" competition, and we both knew Gabby would win. There were no restrictions on the age of the sheep, or the age of the owner, just the amount of milk in the bottle. Gabby and I practiced every day - and she was happy for it!

The day of the Lamb Show competition arrived. I was so excited I could barely sit still. We loaded Gabby in a crate in the back of Grandma's truck, and off we went. I didn't like her back there, it seemed cramped, and I didn't want her to be nervous for the big day. She whined and bawled the whole way to town. At the competition, we got Gabby out, tied a rope to her collar, and went in to this little arena where the bottle-drinking would take place. There were about a dozen other people in there with their sheep. And they were ALL OLD SHEEP! I thought this was a LAMB SHOW! Where were all the LAMBS? Gabby was the only little one, and I knew we had a lot of work to do. The announcer explained the rules, and we all got ready. Gabby's bottle wasn't a regular bottle. It was a 20oz beer bottle, emptied out and filled with milk, with a nipple duct-taped to the top. We had been so excited, we forgot her bottle, and had to make a new one at the show.

The announcer fired his toy gun, and off we went! We hadn't fed Gabby that morning, so she would be extra hungry and drink her milk faster - and it worked! She was sucking on that nipple like she'd never had a meal before! She was so excited that she jumped and kicked and nearly knocked me over. In the excitement, our makeshift bottle came apart, spilling half the milk all over Gabby's head and my jeans and shoes! All of a sudden we were done! And I held up the empty bottle and screamed "WE DID IT!" After careful inspection of the bottle's remains, the judge announced with a wink, "WE HAVE A WINNER!" We won, we won, we won!

For our big prize, Gabby and I got a blue ribbon, a $25.oo savings bond, and a statue of a sheep titled "FASTEST BOTTLE-DRINKING LAMB" that also doubled as a piggy bank. I was on top of the world! I still have that statue today, sitting on my book shelf in my room. It is one of the proudest moments of my life!

Thanks Grandma! I miss you, and I love you! And I'll never forget.

32 Things

Recently, my Mom turned 60 years old. We talked about starting a blog and I suggested she write a list of 60 things she wanted to do as a 60-year-old. I took my own advice and made a list of 32 things I want to do as a 32-year-old. It's in no particular order, but I plan on trying to achieve them all during the nine remaining months of my 32nd year of life. Here's the list:

1. Lose 32 pounds
2. Read a book a month
3. Start my pumpkin bread business - DONE 10/17/09 YEY!!!
4. Quit smoking
5. See the Grand Canyon
6. Get a massage at least once a month - got one in Newport! (Dec. '09)
7. Do a fundraiser
8. Pay off 2 personal debts
9. Attempt to publish a poem I wrote into a children's book
10. Stretch 5 times a week
11. Clean my fish tank
12. Plan a trip to Norway to meet my brother Geir - in the works 1/8/09
13. Go on 10 dates - wouldn't call 'em dates, but....workin' on it ;) 1/8/09
14. Write a cookbook for single people
15. Create a blog - DONE 10/14/09 :)
16. Plan a friend retreat with my 10 closest friends
17. Take artistic photos once a month
18. Start painting again
19. Write an article for a poker magazine
20. Play one poker tournament a month
21. Do NaNoWriMo - Completed, 50217 words in 30 days! 11/1/09-11/30/09!!
22. Buy a house
23. Rebuild my credit
24. Learn yoga
25. Learn how to dance
26. Take a class
27. Exercise 3 times a week
28. Go to a movie bimonthly
29. Try a new food each month
30. Start writing a book - wrote one for NaNoWriMo in November '09 - does that count??
31. Explore Las Vegas bimonthly
32. Have lunch with Oprah and chat about life