McPuky in McCall, Idaho

So it seems that calamity doesn't just happen to me in Missouri...it follows me wherever I go! I spent a week's vacation in McCall, Idaho, to go skiing and let me just say, who would have thought that Idaho, of all places, was beautiful!?!? They have more than just potatoes in Idaho! Such as Mountain Men, lots and lots and lots of snow (it snowed 2 ft on Friday, which really didn't impress the locals!!!), breweries and Rockchucks (Like a Woodchuck, but apparently Rockchucks chuck rock...who knew!).

I flew up to Idaho last Monday, and I woke up feeling a little qweezy. I figured I was just nervous about flying, but the qweeziness turned into puking, puking turned into...need I say more! Yep, I was sick the ENTIRE week!!! I did attempt to ski 2 out of the 4 times, though. While everyone else was having a brewskie at the local brewery, I was pounding the Vitamin Waters trying to up my electrolytes!

On top of the stomach flu, we ended the trip with a rollover car accident! What is up with me and cars!? We were on our way to the airport and we hit a patch of ice, lost control, swerved into the ditch and flipped the car upside down....I had my eyes closed the whole time, so I wasn't really aware of all that was happening, but when I opened my eyes, I was hanging upside down like a bat. While the car was flipping, Blake fell out of the seatbelt and was tumbling around in the car. I told him he should lay off the Ben n' Jerry's...he didn't laugh.

The Ambulance showed up, but the EMT was worthless. I showed her my bruised and swollen knee, and her response was "Do you have a doctor? You may want to get that checked out!" When she took a look at Blake, she put the stethescope in backwards!

We're all ok, thankfully. It really could have turned out to be a lot worse. When I told my mom about the wreck, her response was "You need to change the name of your blog. I think its cursing you!" She may be onto something...

*Note: My mom then went on to inform me that Mexico has baby blue cowboy boots for $30. I feel the love, really:)

The whole week wasn't bad, though. Like I said, Idaho is gorgeous with all the snow, pine trees, log cabins, and outdoorsy activities. I got to play in the 8 ft. high snow, ski a little, drive a snow mobile, watch "Into the Wild" (great movie, p.s.) and hang out with good friends. I didn't fair so well on my first attempt at skiing, but on my second attempt, you can bet I was jumping hills...seriously, I am not joking!! I am a BA:)

I will post pics soon...I've got some good ones, but please ignore my lack of color...I was running on Pepto, Tums, Emetrol, Vitamin Water and Chicken Noodle Soup...yuck!

Moral of the Story: Don't let your sickly nephew stick his germy little hands in your mouth before you go on a week vacation to the Mountains, where the hospitals don't have insurance coverage.

I could have been a Cowgirl!

Ok, so I'm on a bit of a kick right now with the Wild West. I saw the movie "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford" and it was AWESOME! Love me some Brad Pitt and Casey Affleck.

Also, I played Annie Oakley in my high school musical "Annie Get Your Gun," which I rocked! So ever since then, I've been attached to cowboy boots and all things wild west. Being that time of year, Easter, I thought I would educate all you readers out there with 2 of my favorite Cowgirls: Annie Oakley and Calamity Jane...really, there is no relation between Easter and Cowgirls...that I am aware of, but I just love the wild west!

Annie Oakley

Annie Oakley, the poor back-country orphan girl who made her way to world-wide fame, was the very spirit of personal independence. She could handle a rifle or a six-gun with an artistry unsurpassed by that of any human being before her time or, probably, since. And when she appeared with Sitting Bull and other notables in Colonel Cody's Wild West Show, she thrilled the audience - not as Phoebe Anne Oakley Moses but as "Little Sure Shot," the immortal Annie Oakley.

Calamity Jane

She was born Martha Jane Canary in Princeton, Missouri. This hard drinking woman wore men's clothing, used their bawdy language, chewed tobacco and was handy with a gun.

Her old nickname was received in 1872 in a peculiar way. She was at that time at Goose Creek Camp, S.D., where Captain Egan and a small body of men were stationed. The Indians were giving a lot of trouble, and there was much fighting.

One day Captain Egan was surrounded by a large band. They were fighting desperately for their lives, but were being steadily, but surely slaughtered. Captain Egan was wounded and had fallen off his horse.

In the midst of the fighting, it is said, the woman rode into the very center of the trouble, dismounted, lifted the captain in front of her on her saddle, and dashed out. They got through untouched, but every other man in the gallant company was slaughtered.

When he recovered, Captain Egan laughingly spoke of Miss Canary as 'Calamity Jane,' and the name has clung to her ever since.

Happy Easter Weekend:)

Confession

I am in love with these cowboy boots. I know, I know...my boyfriend thinks they are hideous, but I am just really excited to wear dresses this spring/summer and sass it up with a pair of cowboy boots.

A week later...

It has been a week since my car breakin and the stolen lunch escapade. So far so good. And really, nothing to report as far as mishaps, calamities and misfortunes for me! But, I'm going on a ski trip next week, so I'm sure I will have more material in 2 weeks...haha!

Throw Me a Frickin' Bone!

Wednesday (aka The Day of Hell) was possibly the worst day yet in 2008 for me. I actually had contemplated taking a half day because I am fighting a cold that just won't go away, but I decided to suck it up and go to work...bad idea...should have just stayed home.

All was fine until lunch time. I had just put my lunch in the microwave when I overheard some women talking about a car break-in. Here is a little snippet of the conversation that took place:

Lady 1: "Hey Barb, do you drive a black Saturn?"
Lady 2: "Nope."
Me: "Hey! I drive a black Saturn!"
Lady 1: "Are your plates blah, blah, blah, blah?"
Me: "Yes, how did you know that?"
Lady 1: "Welp, your car just got broken into."
Me: "What the..."

I go down to my car and sure enough, the back passenger window was broken. They didn't take anything because I have nothing worth taking, but for about a half hour, I thought they had taken my spare car keys that I had stupidly left, under my mom's recommendations, in a "secret" compartment...But they culprits found the keys. I couldn't find them in the "secret" compartment, so I went upstairs to call insurance and Saturn to find out what to do. Insurance told me it would cost $200 to get my window fixed and Saturn said it would cost $400+ to re-key my car. I went back down to see if my keys were maybe on the floor...praise the Lord, they were on the floor, but why didn't the culprits take them? They could have easily stolen my car!!! Thank you Lord for not letting that happen!!!

Then, here's the kicker...I go back up stairs to my desk and realize my lunch is still in the microwave. So, I go to the microwave to get my lunch, but someone had TAKEN my lunch!!! No, it wasn't placed back into the fridge and NO it wasn't in the trash...somebody ate my Lean Cuisine Panini!!!

So not only did my car get broken into, which sucked, BUT someone also had stolen my lunch!!! I think there is a conspiracy out there against me.

Someone told me today that a lot of bad things happen to me in one week then what happens to a person in a year...so true. Things gotta start looking up soon.

Moral of the Story: My life is exhausting.

Gehzunteit!

I can totally relate. I have been sneezing all day long. My head is fuzzy. Aaaaachooooo!

Walk it out

I am insane and decided to enroll in a Hip Hop Class taught by none other than the fabulous Bobby Ray. We've been taking the class now for about 6 weeks, and I still look pretty white and not cool. I really feel like we need to have a class on how to be cool like in "Save the Last Dance." I think it would be extremely beneficial and give me some street cred...could I BE any cooler!?

I have come to the conclusion that I cannot dance Hip Hop, althougth I definitely try, and that I should embrace all that is white and begin teaching Interpretive Dance. That's my real style of dancing. If I were to teach Interpretive Dance, I would say that there are a few key elements to this style of dance: theatrics, skill and loss of inhibitions. You really just gotta get lost in the music and let yourself go...it's the only way to get this style down! But dance with caution because if too ecentric, you can end up looking like a hippie. Think Napoleon Dynamite/Sign Language/"Annie" the Musical and I think you've got a great start to all that is interpretive dancing.

I have found that there are 3 great songs to interpretive dance too and they are the following:

1. Like a Prayer
2. I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)
3. Dancing Queen

I'm sure there are a lot of other great songs, but those are definitely my faves to interpret.

Moral of the Story: Stick to what you know and get your groove on.

Slow down, you're moving to fast...

I have been traveling a lot lately. I don't think I've spent a weekend home since the end of January! So naturally, I'm tired and I'm not thinking clearly...seems to be a common habit of mine, lately!

Last weekend, I visited the boyfriend and he had me bring a few things back with me to give to his family. My car was packed, the rain was pouring down hard, I was stressed out from driving in the rain (wrecked my car in a bad rainstorm 2 years ago, but that's another story), I was freezing cold and soaken wet and I just wanted to get home and go to bed. Before I could go to bed, I had to unpack my car. My hands were full and like I said, I just wasn't thinking clearly. I put my keys in the door, brought in everything, closed the door and went to bed...so good so far, right!?

Not so much. I woke up late the next day and was rushing to get ready. For the life of me, I could not find my keys! I lose my keys a lot, so I searched the usual places, but they were nowhere to be found. Then my memory came back to me...Oh please no! They couldn't be...yep, they were. I had left my keys in the door for a whole night!!!! So, let's just come out and say it...this whole "Being a responsible adult" thing just really isn't working for me! I guess maturity doesn't just come to you after college, at least in my case. It's a process...a long, drawn out, humiliating process:) You win some, you lose some...I hope I start winning some soon, but then again, what would be the point of this blog, right!

Moral of the Story: God gave you a brain for a reason...use it!

Savor that steak!

Last Monday, I decided to broil steak...I've never used a broiler before and thought it was time to use that weird pan that sits in my oven...once again, I should have stuck to TV dinners.

I had bought a few amazing cuts of meet from HyVee for a pretty good price, so I was really pumped about making myself dinner. I decided to broil a filet mignon (for some reason, one of my friends thinks that is hilarious). The whole cooking part when well. I like my steak medium rare and it was PERFECTO! Well, I was running a little late for my hip hop classes so I was in a real hurry, which leads me to the disaster portion of this post......I cut my first piece of steak, chewed it twice, maybe 3 times...Choked for a good minute!!!! Once I realized that the big piece of filet mignon was lodged in my throat, I began to panic.

First of all, I have no idea how to do the himlic on myself and then I realized that there was a pretty good chance that I was about to pull an Elvis Presley (Die choking on a peanut butter and banana sandwich on the toilet)...In my case, die choking on steak alone in my home. I immediately began punching myself in the chest like Chris Farley and then my gag reflexes came into play. The piece of steak had bbq sauce on it so naturally, I was drooling. After a few seconds of drooling, panicking and gagging the steak dislodged. I really can't remember if it came up or went down...I was in a state of shock and I was more concerned with the bbq sauce drool stain that was all over my carpet.

Moral of the Story: Savor that steak!

Kitchen Fires

SO, my mom read my blog and felt the need to send me a video warning about kitchen fires. Thanks Mom.

Crockpots are for crackpots

I tried cooking last night. I did not succeed. I tried to make italian beef for dinner last night for a friend who has often seen me as domestically challenged and I wanted to prove her wrong...first mistake - I am domestically challenged and I should just focus on a different strength like using the microwave to heat up weight watcher dinners.

Series of Unfortunate Events:
5:30 p.m. - I placed a roast into the crockpot at 8 a.m., came home at 5:30 p.m. - Something smelled good? It wasn't coming from my house because I had burned the beef black. Threw it away, didn't feel like cleaning the crockpot so I put on my deck and closed the blinds.

7:00 p.m. - I was also making new potatoes in the oven wrapped in foil. They were ready to be taken out, so I took them out...good so far...opened the foil and burned the begeezus out of my fingers. They are now bright pink.

7:30 p.m. - Moved on to making pasta. I was doing good until it came time to drain it. I don't have a strainer, but I do have lids that strain for my pot. So I was straining the pasta, not really paying attention, and the pasta spilled all over into the sink. She was coming over in 2 minutes, so what else could I do but scoop up the pasta and put it back into the pot...yes, I KNOW!

7:40 p.m. - Turned on the stove to cook some mushrooms to go into the sauce. Caught a towel on fire. Who knew that the spirals on the stove top that heat up can actually light things on fire. I obviously didn't know!

7:50 p.m. - Used a Zip n' Steam bag for the broccoli. Burned my fingers again, AND the broccoli was still frozen despite being in the Zip n' Steam bag for 6 minutes!

8:00 p.m. - Had a beer and called it quits.

9:00 p.m. - Jumped into the bath tub. Forgot my fingers were burnt from the potatoes. Hot water + already burnt fingers = excrutiating pain followed by yelling.

Moral of the Story - Stick to eating Microwave Dinners.

And so it goes...

Ok, ok...so, I've decided to start blogging...apparently, its the "cool" thing to do. And you maybe asking, "What the heck do you have to talk about that is soo important?" Well, actually, a lot of things. I'm fairly new to this whole "Real World" situation that I entered into after college, and well, I'm learning a lot of new things, some good and some not so good. I think everyone is trying to find their niche, their place in this world, and maybe mine is to warn people about what not to do, which definitely explains why weird and unfortunate things happen to me at least once a week, sometimes more. My hope is that someone can walk away from this blog having learned something about life or at least get a good laugh from my misfortune...I know I've got God busting a gut up there!

WARNING: When reading these posts, please read with a sense of sincere sarcasm...Thank you.

Renewing your Driver's License
Who knew that this would be such a pain! So, I went to renew my license the other day and I really gotta say that the DMV in general is just not a pleasant experience. First off, the place opens up at 9 a.m., and rather than just waiting in your car for it to open up, some guy decides to form a line, so everyone else feels compelled to do the same. I was there 30 minutes early, and stood in line for 30 minutes...the place opened their doors exactly at 9 a.m. Once I get in there, I am forced to go to the License renewal line...I was first, yes! Or so I thought. I'm new to this area, so I'm using this as my excuse, but in Missouri, you can't just bring your old license to get it renewed. You also have to bring a birth certificate (that is embossed or has the raised seal), your social security card and a utility bill to prove lawful residence. I had everything but the birth certificate...I had a copy, not the real thing. Now, I have to wait for the government to send me a real copy of my birth certificate, and get to do the whole thing over again. Oh yea, and I've got to drive the speed limit too, so I don't get pulled over and fined.

Moral of the Story: Don't live in Missouri.

Preview for next post: Crockpots are for crackpots.