whiski_sour: (happy new year bitches)
I'm quite happily buzzed right now. Tradition dictates that if you open a bottle of champagne on New Year's Eve, you must finish it or risk bad luck. Carrie wasn't feeling up to drinking her share and I didn't want to have bad luck, sooo...I drank most of the bottle.

I also survived my first close encounter with death shortly after ringing in the new year. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating, but champagne hiccups hurt, dammit!

Since I'm on the intoxicated side, I'll just say that I hope everyone has a marvelous 2013. I hope it's happy, healthy, and a lot of fun for everyone. We all deserve it.

Here's to a bright and shiny 2013!
whiski_sour: (Winner!)
As predicted, the Chicago portion of my drive was not as terrible as I was working it up to be in my head. My friend Harry (also my lovely date for the evening) gave me fabulous directions and was an all around sweetheart being so patient with my pre-driving paranoia.

The Palmer House is a lovely hotel and definitely out of my Motel-6-with-the-condoms-in-the-vending-machine league. I had a very nice room at the end of a maze so that I don't think we ever took the same route back to the elevators every time.

Harry and I got decked out in our finery and met up with Tim (the guy I won the tickets from) at the VIP entrance where we were passed by the likes of Ernie Banks, Todd Hollandsworth, and David DeJesus and his wife Kim. Inside, we waited in line at one of the bars with Bryan LaHair and Joe Mather. It was pretty loud in there, with the people and the music. I don't know how anyone had a conversation. It was all Harry and I could do to talk to each other. In the end, we were both just so O_O that we decided people watching was good enough. Yeah, I know, pretty chicken shit. But I have trouble socializing unless I'm feeling it's a "good" day and last night really wasn't. I had no opening lines and nothing really to say to any of the players. Harry was on par with this. We suck. We know.

I further suck because the only pictures I took were a few bad ones at the end of the night. I've never been a good photographer and I constantly forget I have the means of taking pictures, so we should all be not surprised by this. Harry took a couple of good ones that I hope to get from him though, including one of us dressed up.

So, yeah, after the VIP portion of the evening, we adjourned to the casino portion. It was there that Harry started his "hot, buttery slide to hell" as he calls it with another rum and coke (he'd had one in the VIP room, as well as a martini; I was still on water, trying to combat the flush of that hot room). This was also when I had my first of two sitdowns of the night. After a walk around the gaming area, I had to sit down. It wasn't just that my feet hurt; my legs were weak. Like I said, 235 pounds on 3 inch heels. You can't fight physics. I just didn't like that suddenly my legs were more out of shape than ever. I was better after the second sitdown and a beer (no kidding; I think it helped slow the nerve signals that let me know that I was having difficulties).

Harry ended up getting pretty drunk (but not annoying/loud/barroom brawling drunk), but we still managed to do pretty well playing blackjack. We also got pretty catty about the players' wives/girlfriends. For the most part, they all look like cheerleaders which provided a perfect example of some research that I read about men tailoring what physical qualities they're attracted to depending on the culture they're apart of. Baseball culture=cheerleader-looking wives.

Anyway, we were among the stragglers to leave the party as Harry was mooning over Theo Epstein (Hilarious! I missed having a fabulous gay friend). I was surprised by which players stayed until the very end. Darwin Barney, James Russell, Chris Volstad, Paul Maholm, Kerry Wood, and of course Ryan Dempster. I know none of these people mean much to any of you, but names to Google if you're curious.

We both bought mystery gift bags (the least we could since we didn't actually contribute to the charity by buying our tickets. Harry ended up with a signed Ryan Dempster ball. I ended up with over $100 worth of gift certificates to various places in Chicago. Guess I'll have to make a trip back to use them.

We also got goodie bags when we left the VIP room which included a Casino night t-shirt and really nice shot glass. Pretty nice swag.

I was a little worried about Harry going home on his own. Hell, I was worried about him making it to the elevator from my room, but he's a pro and made it home with no troubles.

I only managed about four hours of sleep, talked to Harry and his hangover on the phone as he made the trek to work, and then headed for home. I only got a little lost on the way out, but I really quickly figured out where I was and where I needed to go. Pretty soon, I'm going to have this Chicago driving business down pat.

It was a really fun night and I'm so glad I got to do it and it's one of those things that if Dempster is still a Cub and he does it next year (please, oh, please!) I'm saving my pennies to go back on the legit.

No way I'm lucky enough to win twice.
whiski_sour: (happy new year bitches)
Spending my New Year's Eve watching the Jaws movie marathon on Spike. The GERD is making it questionable as to whether or not I should indulge in any champagne tonight, but it will not keep me from the cinnamon roll cheesecake, that I promise you.

I'm not in the mood to be reflective. Instead, I look to the future and I hope 2012 is a happy, healthy, productive, and fun-filled year for myself and for all of you.

Be safe as your party hard.

Happy New Year!
whiski_sour: (*eyeroll*)
You know what I love?

Cub fans bitching on Twitter about the Cubs sucking like this is the first year they've ever sucked. They haven't played well all year. We're now 19 games below .500. Don't take yet another loss so personally. Do what the rest of us do. Enjoy the few wins we do get, really enjoy the wins over the Cardinals, and drink. If you're a straight/bi female or a gay/bi male, then enjoy the pretty. We've got a lot of young eye candy this year. Just getting to see them makes a lot of these losses worth it.

At least in my shallow, shallow book.

You know what else I love?

Non-Cubs fans bitching about the volume of Cubs fans at Addison station outside of Wrigley. The field has been there since 1914 and it's common knowledge that the Cubs sell out or nearly sell out (the smallest crowd this year was just over 33,000) every game. LIVE SOMEWHERE ELSE. I understand Chicago's a big town. I imagine you can find somewhere else to live. And if you can't? Then I suggest you learn to live with it. Otherwise, resign yourself to a miserable existence during baseball season.

Seriously, the whiners were out in force tonight. There was hardly any funny on Twitter to the game.

Dammit, don't these people understand that they're here to entertain me?
whiski_sour: (Cocktail?)
I finally got around to Christmas shopping today. I figured I might as well start since I needed to get Hobbit's birthday present anyway. Her birthday is Friday.

I went to Walmart first (going during the day because there are fewer people who want to talk to me that work during the day than there are on the night shift) and it wasn't too busy. I didn't expect it to be since it was a Wednesday afternoon, but Christmas time does bump up the traffic a bit, even in the middle of the week during the day.

Then I went to Dollar General. No wonder Walmart wasn't busy. Everybody was there. It's a small place, so that does lend to the illusion that there are more people in the store, but the line was so long and snakey that I couldn't find the end of it. I ended up wandering around for a bit until the line at least got short enough that I could find the end.

I got in line and a guy got in line behind me. Yes, this is important to my story.

I left Dollar General, stopped at my car to drop off my bag, and then went nextdoor to the liquor store to get a Lotto ticket. Apparently, everyone that wasn't at the Dollar General was at the liquor store.

Anyway, I went in walked up to the line at the register and found myself standing behind the guy that had been standing behind me in Dollar General.

He wasn't buying a Lotto ticket, though. He was buying a Miller tall one. Judging by the looks of him, I wouldn't be surprised if it didn't last the drive home.

When I left, everyone that wasn't in Dollar General or inside the liquor store was in the liquor store drive-thru. Seriously. I'm looking at this long line thinking, "Why aren't you people at work? Why are you all getting booze? What's going on that I don't know about?"

Nevermind Saturday nights in the big city. That's easy.

Try Wednesday afternoons in a small town. That's where it's at.
whiski_sour: (Cocktail?)
Carrie and I went to Save-A-Lot to replenish our fixings for shake-ups. We're addicts, we admit it, but this addiction will only last until it starts getting colder. Shake-ups are for warm weather only.

Anyway, Save-A-Lot is a discount grocery store in which most of the items are generic and you carry your groceries out in boxes left over from stocking the shelves. Carrie calls it the Zombie Apocolypse store because she says this is what the grocery stores look like. No bags and everything looks like it was raided off of an overturned truck.

We didn't buy much, so we opted out of using one of the boxes and just carried our stuff out in hand.

Carrie: Who would have thought that the zombies would have destroyed all of the plastic bags?
Me: They took the plastic bag factories out first. They knew how to bring humanity to its knees.

However, we did make a good score at the Zombie Apocolypse Grocery. Umbrella straws for the shake-ups.

Now we're stylin'.
whiski_sour: (Cocktail?)
We're having a heat wave for the weekend. Temps are in the 90's with the heat indicies over 100. And considering last month was the coolest July we've had in the history of keeping track of temperatures, the weatherman are all *FLAILFLAIL* because we're no longer acclimated to the heat and we're all going to start dropping like flies.

Honestly, it wasn't bad today. It was hot, but I wasn't misting my head with ice water and taking two or three cold showers.

At any rate, Carrie and I took some heat precautions. She went out and bought the fixings for shake-ups, lemon and lime, to go with the citrus vodka in the freezer.

Trust me, nothing beats the heat like a redneck cocktail.
whiski_sour: (smokin')
My little hick town ended up having their fireworks display last night. Carrie and I went and watched them from the Wal-Mart parking lot like we usually do. I cannot remember the last time I had to wear a jacket on 4th of July.

It rained almost all day, quitting a few hours before dusk, when the fireworks were scheduled. It was still cloudy though. It was a good show, but some of the higher fireworks got lost in the clouds. It was kinda neat. You'd see it go up and then the cloud would light up some color.

Carrie said that we now know what an alien invasion would look like. It did have that kind of eerie quality.

The parking lot wasn't as full as it has been in the past and some jackass took that as an invitation to set off some fireworks of his own. We're talking big ol', bad ass rockets that went off about twenty feet directly over our heads. Fireworks are pretty until they're raining down on you.

After the show, we went to Dairy Queen to try the new Tagalong blizzard (OMG SO GOOD!) and ate it in the parking lot, watching traffic thin out.

Like I said, hick town. Lots of my life has been spent hanging out in parking lots.

As far as I know, our postponed 4th of July poker party should be happening tonight. Unfortunately, I don't think I got the amount of sleep required for a night of cards and booze.

Caffiene, I'm on my way.
whiski_sour: (boom)
Happy 4th of July to my American friends. Happy Saturday to everyone else.

Due to inconvenient weather being inconvenient, our plans to hang out in a parking lot and drink redneck cocktails while possibly blowing stuff up have been pushed back to tomorrow.

And since it is a day that usually involves someone, somewhere, grievously injuring themselves (and since I haven't done it in awhile), how about a father/daughter conversation on hospital trips.

*Dad sharpens a knife then immediately cuts his finger on it*
Me: Hey, just because our plans for the day got postponed doesn't mean I want to spend the afternoon with you in the ER.
Dad: Like you'd go.
Me: Hey, last time you tried cutting a finger off it was Christmas Eve.
Dad: You wouldn't go to the hospital with me if it was August 13th.
Me: I would if you were dying and I was in the will.
Dad: I'll put your sister in the will. Leave it all to her.
Me: *snorts* Good move. She'd have it all spent before you drew your last breath.
Dad: I'll just leave her the old Jeep. "To Mimzie, I bequeath the old Jeep. You wrecked it, you got it." She'd be thrilled.
Me: Yeah, she would.

For the record, Dad didn't cut himself badly enough to go for stitches.

This makes the third holiday I know of for sure that he's cut himself.

Dad's hardcore like that.

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Cheshyre

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