Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Geriatric. Spa. Day?

Dating back to my 18th birthday, or maybe even before then, I have always gotten a mani/pedi to celebrate my grand entrance to the world (6/17 ... only seven shopping days left!).

If today’s events have any karmic bearing on what 26 might bring – oh, then please, BRING IT ON!

I was too engrossed in my academic literature – yes, I was in public, reading an academic study having a very Elle Woods moment (re: cute nerd) – to notice the others filling in the tootsie Jacuzzi’s around me. Much to my chagrin, as the nice lady was pretending my heels were a block of Parmesan cheese I looked around and noticed I was the youngest person in the nail salon by at least two and a half decades; possibly even three to four decades. And out of the 15 people getting some type of treatment, I was also only one of three people to have only X chromosomes in my web of DNA.

Yes, the other pedi patrons were males.

Old males.

With pasty white legs.

And Tevas barely covering their bleached white socks (and soon to be purdy feet!).

At one point, one of the two other women (a wife) in the area began talking about the war – not a current one – W.W.II. She was 18 at the time and I tuned her out before I could hear what her occupation was back in the day.

Don’t get me wrong, I love everyone and would have thought it to be a pretty cool thing to get a mani with my Nanny, but the scene felt a little bit like the Twilight Zone.

Either this is an omen that I am in for a year of wrinkly things (see left) or year of random (once again, see left).

I vote the latter. And a new hat for the Pug. Maybe something of the tiara variety?

Speaking of random old people, David Lettermen just called Pittsburgh the "Iron City". I think Letterman has booze on the brain .

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Lucky for me, CP is fully amenable to this idea.

As I have voiced just about anytime someone brings up the topic of nuptials, much to my mother’s disgust getting hitched in Las Vegas is on my list of 100 things to do before I die.

Among the issues/annoyances CP & I would like to avoid, we both agree the idea of having to have a fantasy draft to name our top friends is just not needed. Additionally, parading the “lucky” few through a crowd in matching craptastic dresses/rented tuxes just seems wrong and unneeded– especially for the free agents who were not selected for event.

How do you even broach the subject with the friends who believe they should have been called up to the major league?

Me: “I am sorry, but while your friendship stats allocated you to be a member of the group who got a phone call, not a text/facebook message, announcing this event, we just didn’t feel they were wedding party worthy. Maybe had we hung out more in the summer of 2006 things would be different. Please feel free to attend the pre-season camp sessions (a.k.a the wedding shower and the bachelorette party). Maybe things will improve, but at this time our roster is full.

Free Agent: “But what about the time I bailed you out of jail? I was supposed to pay my rent with that money.

Me: “I appreciated the sentiment and if I recall correctly the reciprocating transaction was paid in full a week later. I am truly sorry but Draft Picks 1-3 were all sitting next to me in the cell and you know the old saying …

Before I share my next thoughts I want to preface this post with CP AND I ARE NOT YET PLANNING OUR WEDDING - A culmination of recent events gave me the bright idea to investigate this point



Not that this doesn’t make sense in the grand scheme of things, but Vegas.com (“The Official VEGAS Travel Site”) has an entire tab on their page devoted to planning a Sin City wedding.

Not to be THAT girl – but I think I have already picked my top to choice to tie the knot.

The Little Church of the West - Not only is the place super cute, but my personal favorite details from their website are as follows:

How long prior to the ceremony should we arrive?
Please arrive no less than 15 minutes prior to the ceremony. Please check in at the office behind the chapel with your Nevada marriage license. – Jack and Pot! When combined with the next point this guarantees we are there for less than an hour. We will probably take more time obtaining our license than attending our own ceremony!

How long does a ceremony last?
You are here for about 20 minutes. - WOO HOO! Short, sweet and to the point. Sold!

How many guests can we have?
Our chapel seats 50 guests. If your guest count exceeds 50 the remaining guests will need to stand and we may have to keep the chapel doors open, for safety purposes. – Aww, this means my fourth cousins’ vegan diet coach can't be in attendance. Darn!

What type of music is supplied?
With package 1 we play recorded music (traditional wedding music on a CD) all other packages we have a live church organist play traditional wedding music, you are welcome to bring your own CD if you wish. – A 20 minute wedding AND pirated iTunes music! Now that is the way to start until death do us part!

Is the Webcam LIVE?
For security reasons we do not offer webcam broadcasts as the ceremony happens. The wedding video is available for viewing approximately 15 minutes after the ceremony concludes. – Is it vain to organize a viewing party for my own wedding?

How should we dress?
We do not have a dress code; you are welcome to dress formal or casual. We do ask that you do wear clothes however - No birthday suits! – Good, poufy white dresses are not my thing. If I wanted to be the tooth fairy I would have gone to school to be a dentist, or at least their super cute/perky dental hygienist. For me, as long as CP is in the frat boy uniform (blue oxford button down, khakis, cool tie, sleeves cuffed and flip flops) I will be happy.

Can someone walk the bride down the isle?
Yes, traditionally by her father or another member of the party if you wish. - Oh good, they stick to tradition. Wait, if the Tedster doesn't shuffle me down the isle, how else would I get to the alter??? Clown car? A Vegas magician says “Poof” and I am there? Would I appear from behind a showgirls’ feathers? Do these folks count toward my 50 member entourage?

... In case you were wondering, I just got done explaining all of this to CP, he was both scared (in a good way) and exited (also in a good way).

And before you book your plane ticket to join us, please check your draft status. You might be in line to host a watch party. Don't worry I will supply the Champaign and first bottle of wine. Everything else is up to you. Please don't let it suck, or your stats will drop quicker than a receiver who couldn't catch a cold.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Penguins, Paul Luc, Pirates and Pandas – OH?! MY?!

I made a resolution that I was going to be more daring in 2009. So far, I have been pretty true to that choice. For the most part this decision has paid off with enough stories that I should have re-invented my blog a long time ago. (I have permanently lost the password to coaoqca.blogspot.com)

Saturday night though, the motherload hit.

After openly cheering (read: standing up with enough force to hit my leg off the table) for the lone Pittsburgh goal (& Evengi Malkin assist!!!) in game one in a Red Wing filled bar in Livona, Mich. it was off to Ypsilanti, Mich. to soak in more of my hometown flavor.

As Jeannine and I paid our covers to get into the Elbow Room, we were shuffled out of the doorway but none other than Beetle Juice. I didn’t know that he could show up places without saying his name three times, but apparently that is the page of the nerd encyclopedia I have yet to read.

Lucky for me, Mr. Juice was not the only famous leading man to make an my acquaintance that night … I also happened to meet Captain Jack Sparrow. Little known fact, he grew up in Eastern PA, but lived in Pittsburgh for six years. He’s also quite charming.

I had never heard Paul Luc live but listened to the CD a few hundred times in my truck (in the past couple of months) so I was more than excited to see these guys strut their stuff. ... and it was worth it.

I feel like I now have proof the Paul, the band’s namesake and front man is a direct descendent of Bob Dylan. I also am positive the keyboardist – who is too cool for a first and last name and only goes by ‘Whitey’ – has the Piano Man’s blood flowing into his appendages.

Great as the boys from Western PA set list was, the real party started after they had broken down.

The exit of Paul Luc brought the entrance of Ann Arbor’s finest … the Tickled Fancy Burlesque Co. I really didn’t know much about burlesque shows so I suggested we stick around. If Nicole Schnellenberger or whatever that Pussy Cat's name is can make a name for herself shaking a tail feather, maybe her replacement would be in this group.

Remember, this is the year of adventure and I know I spell adventure b-u-r-l-e-s-q-u-e!
(Apparently adventure costs a cool $6.00 and comes in the form of a new pink t-shirt as well. Yes, I was all about documenting this experience with anything that had their logo! Call me a brand freak, whatever.)

Within 10 seconds of the show starting I got an explanation for why Mr. Juice was there – turns out he was the emcee! (Who knew?!) Captain Jack’s reason for attendance is still a little suspect though, as well as the reason Mr. Juice was sitting on the floor coloring pre-show.

The one and only act of the show that we checked out has forever changed my view on Panda’s. Not that I thought about them on a daily basis, but I may never look at them the same.

I sincerely hope the lovely ladies of “Pandemonium” have day jobs that doesn't include feather boa’s, throw-back Sam & Libby ballet flats, pool noodles, and milk crates. For the full monty, add some lampshade looking tassels in several places - let your mind wander and I guarantee whatever you come up with won’t even compare to the visions that burned my retina’s.

It's not that the act was bad, but there is something about a man in a seersucker suit and a matching panda mask and backback that just isn't sexy to me.

Before the night's end - as if this story could get any stranger than fiction - we would be accosted by both Professor Snape and a girl who looked like Punky Brewster’s little sister with about 1,000 facial piercings. They felt the need to “chat” with me about my choice of clothing (an Evengi Malkin tee, what else?) and how my doning of that shirt gave them the right to yell and point fingers.

It was a lovely chat.

Hmm and what is it they say about Ypsi's neighbor, Ann Arbor?

The positive though – THIS girl didn’t get lost in the state of Michigan AND managed to avoid Michigan Lefts.