I Almost Died in a Car Crash, Got Shitfaced with My Family and Saw Some Pigs. How Was Your Weekend?

Alternate title: The Longest Post EVER So Get Yourself a Drink and Settle in for a Detailed Account of How I Spent My Weekend, Y'all.

People, I am DONE with driving long distances and Big Scary Freeways for awhile, at least. Yes, I spent most of my childhood and adolescence on the Dumbarton Bridge and am nonplussed by more than two lanes of traffic but holy mother of swear words and cars and drive-thrus...I am staying put for the forseeable future.

WARNING: If you are one of my dads or I ever lived in your uterus, you might want to skip the first part of Friday because you will lose your shit. No offense guys, but you're kinda wimpy when it comes to the thought of me almost dying. Just move along to the parts where I am drunk because you have all seen that.

Friday: Day started out on a pretty normal note. Got some last minute laundry done, packed my bag for my crazy-busy weekend and headed out of Chico in my recently tuned-up truck. My old, but lovingly cared for, well-maintained (OK, yes, it does need a good washing but other than that, just shut up, alright?) truck. The first half of the drive goes by with zero incident and I'm bopping along and decide to pull off of I-80 in Fairfield for a coffee. As I make my way over to the right lane I hear a huge BANG, the truck pulls sharply to the left and the next few moments are a blur as I spin out and almost hit the wall before managing to get the car pointed in the right direction over on the shoulder. I call 911 because I can see chunks of my tire in the road and know that the CHP office is at the next exit. (Seriously, I do this drive all the damn time and know every bathroom, every Peet's coffee location, whatever.) Another car pulls over to check on me as I'm half hyperventilating-recounting the story of OHMYGODIJUSTSPUNOUTWHATTHEFUCK? to the dispatcher. The people in the other car inform me my driver's side rear tire appears to be shredded and I relay this to the dispatcher, who is asking me all kinds of questions that I am having trouble answering (like, my name) but I manage to give her my location. In the meantime, one of the three Good Samaritans seems really put off by the fact that I am devoting more attention to the 911 dispatch than to him, and mistakes my reluctance to fully exit the vehicle as a fear that he will rob me, rather than a fear of being mowed down by one of the hundreds of cars flying past us. He proceeds to inform me that I clearly hate black people, FSP shows up and a highway patrol officer rolls up to check on me too. I try to explain to the dude that I am not racist, just freaking the fuck out and maybe I have forgotten my manners but I AM HAVING A BIT OF A CRISIS HERE and would appreciate if he could wait a moment while I get shit done and then I will be happy to chat with him and inspect the tire while practically standing in the freeway. The FSP dude manages to get the tire situation under control while the officers block traffic and run out onto the freeway to retrieve tire chunks. If you had to slow down on I-80 last Friday afternoon, SORRY! AAA shows up too, makes sure things are cool and I'm sent on my way. Although the car is deemed totally safe to drive, I am still a little flipped out but manage to get myself to my dad's house in one piece.

Upon arrival in Pacifica, I give the fam a quick rundown of the situation and my uncle offers to drive me to my dinner party in the city. I politely decline, so he offers to make me a drink instead. Sold!

I love that my uncle and I speak the same language: Bushmills.

The dinner with B&G, D&K and E was fabulous as always. B looked at me and said, "It feels right having you at my table" and I gotta say, it feels right to me too. Talking about leaving my heart in San Francisco.

D&K, adorable as ever.

The gourmets: G cooked up a five-star meal and K spoiled us with homemade tiramisu.

Saturday: Up at dawn to road trip to Fresno (aka The 'No) for my Great-Aunt Peggy's memorial service. She passed away last month and is terribly missed by our family. A beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, the lady liked to have fun and her children and grandchildren put on a wonderful party that honored her memory. I always forget that this side of the family is the Unapologetic Day Drinking side, and realized I need to visit more. We saw a ton of relatives we hadn't seen in years and I discovered that the penchant for sick jokes and a "That's What She Said!" sense of humor is genetic.

Timothy Evan and Evan William partying it up.

The evening is a bit of a blur... I know I went on a liquor run with my dad, got back to the house, downed the rest of my wine and got my uncle to hook his favorite niece up with some cocktails. Our cousins Terri and Mark are pig farmers and have a gorgeous property with lots of cute baby pigs. I felt a little guilty enjoying my bacon and cilantro wrapped shrimp, but got over it pretty fast because sweet baby Jesus, that stuff is SO GOOD. I explained that as a city girl, I prefer not to make friends with my meals and they agreed they would only serve me food I hadn't met. Seems fair. Ridiculous and fairly graphic explanations of inseminating pigs for breeding ensued and at one point I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. Eventually the crowd dispersed and I passed out in my cousin's room.

Bubba shows off his monkey bollock (blanket) and monkey jammers.

Mark, please do not explain to him how baby pigs are made, nor where the bacon came from.

Thumbs up all-around for Terri, the coolest cousin!

Sunday: Woke up with the slightest headache, but after tallying the drinks (3 beers, 2 glasses of wine and a shit ton of whiskey and soda) I was not in horrid shape. After some breakfast, coffee and a shower I was handed a mimosa. I use the term "mimosa" lightly because those are supposed to have orange juice in them, which I guess mine did technically, but really, who are we kidding? Again with the day drinking and damn if my head didn't feel absolutely marvelous instantly. Dad and Judy came by with Evan and apparenly Bubba was up half the night with a fever.

Some snippets of conversation:

Terri: "My girlfriends and I used to have a pool going when we'd go out and whoever got asked to dance by the ugliest guy got the money."

Judy: "I want in on that. You're talking my game! Also, lesbians love me. We start talking softball and next thing I know..."

Me: "If the rules were the oldest dude asking you to dance I'd beat all of you hands down. Old guys love me. And I want extra credit if they are wearing chains!"

Dad: "Will someone please take the champagne away from them?"

Have you ever been drunk in the car with your drunk stepmom, sober dad and three year-old brother? Because here's what you can expect: making up songs that heavily feature the word "poop" with the three year-old, begging your dad to pull over for Jack-in-the-Box because, "Dude, we are drunk hungry! I need food noooooowwwww" and passing out next to the aforementioned toddler. A toddler who will try to wake you by throwing toys at your head and playing a pretend trumpet. Interweb, that is the closest I've ever come to hitting a child. I wonder when he'll realize "Sissy is tired" means "Sissy is hammered" and "Sissy needs to sleep" means "Sissy passed out and will likely attack if woken?" Hopefully not for another year or so. I woke from my car nap covered in my own drool and still feeling buzzed. My dad is exceptionally proud of me.

Show of hands: who is concerned that Evan was able to take this photo because I was too drunk/lazy/oblivious to wrestle my camera away from a person who weighs 30 lbs?

Monday: After another fitful, feverish night with Evan the entire family trekked to Kaiser for an appointment with Dr. Ami, the best pediatrician since my childhood doctor. The kid has some weird ass preschool disease like foot and mouth, only the sores are only in his mouth. I wasn't so much disgusted as concerned, but still - ew!

While putting the little diseased kid down for his nap and saying goodbye he warmed my cold, dead heart with this little gem:

"I'm so glad you're my potty talk friend!"

For reals. I cannot begin to express how completely awesome this kid is. You just need to experience him to fully understand the wacky charm that is Bubba.

The drive home was uneventful, but I stopped every five minutes to check my tires and hyperventilate and imagine that the car was going to careen off the road. Good times. After spending roughly three hours in the car Friday-Monday I am so grateful my daily commute is 40 minutes round trip. CKD needs a break, yo.

So, um, there you go. My weekend in approximately 7,000 words, give or take. If you'll excuse me now I need to collapse and maybe pour myself a drink. Haven't had one of those in about 18 hours and we wouldn't want my liver tissue to regenerate, now would we?

Sacramento? More like SacramentNO!

I admit it: I wasn't super-psyched to attend a conference in Sacramento, especially since it fell during my second favorite holiday: St. Patrick's Day. (My favorite holiday? Halloween. Yes, if given the choice, I will take candy over booze. Fun fact.) I mean, I'm sure Sacramento is lovely and it is the state capital and all that...but I have no ties, no real affinity for the city. Plus, what if the "Irish pubs" were lame? Turns out my fears were unfounded and it was an excellent mix of business and fun.

The conference itself was pretty great, and it does please me that our school values me enough to send me to events where I can learn and grow and take ownership of this role. I am still exhausted from the drive, hotel sleeping (which is never ever restful for me), networking, and bouncing between sessions in order to hear from a variety of speakers. So, you get a recap in bullet form, because grenade form* just seems so intense.

-I overpacked, as is my MO whenever I leave my house for more than 20 minutes. My swimsuit never saw the light of day, as it wasn't really warm enough for the pool. And like a well-intentioned moron, I packed running/workout gear, which also never found its way out of my bag. Silly CKD.

-Had some extra time to burn Monday evening and thought I'd run some errands. Apparently when I asked the Concierge for directions to the nearest Target, she heard that as "Please send me to the unemployment office" because when I followed the directions and landed at the address she gave me, that's exactly where I ended up. I'm not sure if I was just road-weary, hungry, or am just a flat-out bitch, but my frustration quickly turned to a white-hot rage and I found myself screaming "I'M GONNA CHOKE THAT BITCH!" alone in my car as I made my way back to the hotel. I'm sure the other drivers on the road didn't find that sketchy in the least.

-Free wi-fi my ass, Hyatt Regency. I refused to pay $10 per day for intermittend Interweb access, which also sent me into an irrational fit of "OH THE INJUSTICE THRUST UPON ME! WHY GOD? WHY MEEEEEE?" Then I remembered the hotel had a bar downstairs.

-In recent months I've become more confident about going out alone, and quickly found that a hotel bar is an awesome place to make friends. Seriously. There was nothing sketchy, just a lot of business travelers and I made friends with a fellow conference attendee. I turned an IT consultant from Texas on to Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, and he bought me one to show his gratitude. The bartender and I are best friends and he makes an awesome Kir Royale.

-One of the keynote speakers at the conference was super hot, super smart and super funny. Also: married. Dumb bitch. I think it's a real testament to my geekiness that I go into a full-tilt swoon over these environmental/academic types. I developed about four crushes per minute while chatting with presenters and fellow attendees and discovering shared interests in breathing and being able to drink water. Wow. Just reading that sentence makes me think it's time to take a long hard look at my standards.

-While out on the town for St. Patrick's Day a (presumably) drunk girl stopped to tell me I have great legs and that she's jealous of them. I thanked her, a little embarrassed (note to self: time to learn to accept compliments gracefully), but was pleased. My companion concurred with her assessment, so there's that.

-Every bar was an out of control amateur night disaster, so back to the hotel bar for me where my new BFF made me the best whiskey sour of my life. People, if you are ever in the Sac, hit up Dawson's at the Hyatt Regency and tell them the Wildcat sent you. You won't be sorry.



*Credit Whiskeymarie

Happy Birthday Jen! aka "Who's the boss? Tony Danza? No, I think it's Jennifer"

March 14 was my dear friend Jen's birthday and I hope she will forgive me for the tardiness of this post. Jen and I met at the Puge; she and Kim lived two doors down from me in Regester Hall (Virgin Vault - HOLLA!) and we quickly discovered a shared affinity for Goonies, Adam Sandler and speaking in movie quotes. We have a winner! Also, her product collection and morning routine rivals mine in the "Holy crap, how much stuff do you have?" department. My only complaint about Jen is that she lives so far away now. What's it gonna take for you guys to move to California? I'll do the truffle shuffle...

Jen is an adorable white girl from So Cal who also happens to have mad rap skillz. She and Kim do an excellent Dr. Dre/Snoop Dogg for "Nothing but a G Thang" that will send you into fits of uncontrollable laughter and awe.

Jen's nickname, The Boss, is a shortened version of her maiden name, but also an excellent way to sum up her dynamic, take-charge attitude. This woman chaired committees for, like, 90% of the activities of our campus and every single one was a raging success.

Jen is never embarrassed by my ridiculous shenanigans and just encourages me to be a jackass by laughing when I dance like Elaine. So, blame her.

Jen's dance skillz would make Kevin Bacon proud. She can do any routine from Footloose, including the part where Ren dances around by himself and yanks off his sweatshirt. Just thinking about it is mkaing me crack up right now.

Jen is an awesome karaoke partner. Our version of "Sweet Caroline" brought down the house at orientation. Word.

Jen has a Rain Man-like memory for song lyrics and movie lines. Throw out some obscure line from Friends or pretty much any movie ever and the woman will respond in kind.

Jen, for all of her straightforward, "I'm-not-gonna-pump-sunshine-up-your-butt"-ness is always, always the first to offer love and support and encouragement in a time of need.

Jen is not afraid of confrontation or saying the Thing Maybe You Don't Really Want to Say but Probably Should. Being terrified of every offending anyone ever when I met her, I learned from her example that it's possible to stand up for yourself and the world will not fall apart. There are times even now that I channel that energy and it has served me well.

Oh Hen, I miss you and wish we lived in the same building again so we could get some fro-yo from Smell. If you ever slow down for two seconds I'll come visit soon since I have yet to meet your baby Tessie. Plus, Jeff and I clearly need to discuss the subtle nuances of the genius that is Happy Gilmore. You are so money, and you don't even know it!

This Is a Crappy Excuse for a Post but I'm Taking All Kinds of Hell for My Hiatus

Hey Interweb...what's happening? (Say that like Bill in Office Space.) Apparently people actually read this thing because I have taken some crap for not updating the last couple of days. Um, sorry? Mama killed some brain cells this weekend and is planning to do an Afterschool Special/Very Special Episode-type of post COMPLETE WITH PHOTOS as soon as said pictures are procured. Hang in there - evidence of the full powers of my jackassery will be here soon.

In the meantime, here are some deep thoughts for you:

-I read this: http://www.whiskeymarie.com/2009/01/whats-wrong-with-me-part-7463.html and pretty much lost my shit because I play this same game ALL THE TIME. Meetings, the grocery store, coffee shop, random cocktail party: it's a sickness. But apparently someone else suffers from it so at least I'm not alone in the crazy. So, you know...good for me? I think? Anyone else out there want to cop to this kind of insanity?

-When did CSU Hayward become CSU East Bay? That's weird.

-It has come to my attention that after exhausting the armed forces I am now just collecting The Village People. The Indian Chief is going to be a challenge but I think I'm up for it.

-Don't you love those days when you kind of threw together an outfit and didn't really have time to do anything with your hair (which is an out of control mess anyway and probably beyond help) and yet people stop you in the hallway to say you look cute? Because I fucking love those days.

Sake It To Me

At some point I will post while NOT under the influence but for now y'all are gonna have to indulge CKD.

There's an upside to having a super-chatty stepdad: he makes friends with EVERYBODY. Seriously. The mailman. The recycling guys. The dean of his department. And most importantly: restaurant owners.

We are favorites at the local sushi place, which means Rock Star status at their special VIP events. Tonight we took part in a special invitation only sake tasting event which capped off what is now known as a Rough Week for Our Family. The sake was to die for, the food was delicious and the laughter was constant. I really, truly enjoy the company of my family and only wish more people had that experience. Yes, they make me crazy sometimes, but they also make me laugh so hard I can't breathe and THAT IS A SERIOUS COMPLIMENT.

Want some proof? Here is a sample of our conversations and drunken non sequiturs. Bet you can't guess who said what.

"I like bold flavored meats."

"I tend to download a lot of porn on my work computer."

"Pour me a glass of sake and let's watch something on the telly!"

"Let's drink this and watch Godzilla!"

"Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto."

"Isn't this what Iron Chef drinks? If it's good enough for him, it's good enough for me."

"And we can use the bottles as Molotov cocktails if there's a riot."

Thank God I don't have to be at work tomorrow. I can almost feel the hangover now.

I love them so much and want to squeeze their faces!

Remember That Time I Didn't Update for a Few Days and Then Finally Got Around to It After I Had Been Drinking? Yeah.

Hey there...didn't mean to leave the "Woohoo Obama" post up all week as some sort of statement or anything. (Although, OMG how much do I LOVE MICHELLE OBAMA? And how amazing is it that our president has just GOTTEN DOWN TO BUSINESS and is making shit happen?) Just been a wild and crazy week in the life of CKD. And not in the good way. News this week was of the "major job changes" and "serious health issues for family members" variety, which put me in a funk. Throw in a phone call from a certain three year-old informing me he misses me and has been waking up crying in the middle of the night and well...let's just say I have a carry-on packed for my guilt trip.

BUT! This week has not been all gloom-and-doom. I saw the San Francisco Symphony here in Chico! Next week I see Second City (former home of TINA FEY and Steve Carrell) which will be hilarious! I have plans to go to the wine country! And probably the most thrilling news of all: I got three new lip glosses for free! THREE ENTIRELY UNNECESSARY BUT TOTALLY ADORABLE AND DELICIOUS NEW LIP GLOSSES. God bless gift cards and the parents who put them in your stocking. Sure, the new glosses aren't that different from each other (truthfully, not that different from the 400 I already own) but I don't care. They are shiny and flavored and have disgustingly cute names and that makes me happy, OK?

I think some other stuff happened the last few days? I don't know. I am operating under the spell of Cabernet, which is a potent, magical thing. It's made my underwear disappear before. True story.

I Saw Willie Nelson in Concert. What's New with You?

*Warning: Completely random, disjointed post ahead. Proceed at your own risk of developing ADD right along with me.

Y'all really bring it when it comes to the fashion advice and assurance and I expected nothing less from my fabulous friends. I think this week's resolution to switch it up and step it up (Sounds like a commercial for an exercise video, no? Switch it up! Step it up!) was a success. I was snapped out of my rut by the unseasonably warm weather, of course, and even made small changes like wearing necklaces and eyeshadow. Yes, I understand that most 14 year-old girls can handle that but I think we all know I'M JUST THAT SLOW.

In other news, Coffee Guy's last day at Cal Java was this week. Aloha...and mahalo for the early morning pseudo-flirting. The words "soy latte" will never be the same again.

You know what's kinda fun? Having a friend place bets on how quickly you will get drunk at a party this weekend. You know what makes you feel like a frumpy hag? Discussing body fat percentage and cholesterol levels with said friend.

If given the chance to see Willie Nelson live, do it. Even if you aren't a huge fan or whatever. I was fortunate enough to see him at a small venue, which I think always enhances the exeperience, don't you? Anyway, I have fond memories of listening to his music with my dad on long car rides as a wee girl. It was funny how many of the songs I knew, and he did some pretty fantastic covers of other classics. Plus, the man can jam! Seriously, he wails.

Happy Birthday Cappa! aka "That's a Hot Tranny Mess!"

What, you thought I'd do a birthday tribute for Jesus? Nope. Today we are celebrating Courtney Cappa: fashionista, Facebook addict, and lush.

Cappa and I met earlier this year at Boy Chris' bachelor party in Vegas, so I don't have as many embarrassing or touching stories about her, but what I do have? Oh, there be some gems. And the photos? Oh man, the photos... Neither one of us will ever be able to run for public office.

Cappa apparently tried to break some sort of binge drinking record in Vegas the first night and was heard telling Boy Chris, as she leaned on him for support, "Sorry if I drool on you a little." That right there pretty much sealed it for me: this broad is a keeper.

Cappa tried to take advantage of groomsman/nurse Jared's surefire hangover cures in Vegas: IV hydration bags after said night of drunken foolishness. There was some mishap with getting this plan to work, but the sight of this hungover girl in a Vegas hotel room trying to rally for night two was inspiring. Talk about dedication to the cause.

Cappa offers excellent wardrobe advice, which is always appreciated by Girl Chris, the fashion retard. From what to wear to a wedding to a weekend in New York, the girl is spot-on.

Cappa preached the Gospel of Dunkin Donuts coffee to me, which led me to give it a whirl and fall head over heels in love. So, yeah, thanks for getting me hooked on something I can't get locally.

Cappa's birthday falls on Christmas (duh) but rather than whine about it, she chooses to see the positive: she never has to work, it's festive, her family is gathered together...basically, the glass is half full. Of beer. Or Dunkin Donuts coffee.

Cappa got stuck with the bar tab Boy Chris and I rang up. As a joke, we got the bartender to transfer our tab to hers, and she "consented" by giving him a smile and a thumbs up. For some reason she still speaks to us.

Cappa, you bring the party with you wherever you go, and I am so grateful that my circle of friends now includes you. To quote you, "we are rad bitches." Truer words were never spoken. Enjoy your day!

Such an introvert.

Like Emily Freakin' Post Up in Here

Seems like everywhere I turn there's an article with etiquette and helpful hints on navigating the workplace holiday party without being known as the office drunk/slut. I, sadly, work in Scroogeville, and will not even have an opportunity to eat too many cookies at an office party, let alone get wasted.

This was not always the case, my friends.

Oh yes, young CKD had herself a big girl job with a big girl company at the age of 21. (Did you know me when I was 21? If so, let me just issue a blanket apology if I ever threw up on or around you. That was my signature move back in the day.) This company was comprised primarily of older men, which meant my need to prove myself usually manifested itself in talking sports and/or drinking heavily. Guess which one is "problematic" at a work function?

Anyway, the point is that I have probably committed every faux pas ever mentioned in one of these "play it cool at the office party and save your drunken jackassery for a family gathering" articles. Except for the one about discussing religion and politics. I never bring that up when we could discuss how hot my office crush is. Much more appropriate.

Let me add a few other helpful tips for any of you out there who are unsure about walking the line between "good time" and "the HR lady needs to talk to you."

1.) If you are wearing a sorta tight dress and you are new to swing dancing and your dance partner really wants to try that move where he flips you around his back don't be shocked when your zipper explodes and your entire back FROM YOUR BRA TO YOUR UNDERWEAR is exposed. Looking suave while executing this move and landing on your feet are the least of your worries, Sweetie.
1a.) Wear underwear - good ones.

2.) The "open bar" is not a challenge. Do not approach it as "Oh, you think you've got enough booze for 200 people? We'll just see about that." This is especially good advice if neither you nor your date (Hi Brian!) are of legal drinking age, you damn moron. What are you trying to do? Get your employers busted for serving to a minor? Jesus.

3.) If you are there with a date, do not ditch him or her and then hook up with someone else at the party. (I have NEVER done this, but this happened to a friend of mine and oh dear God was that awkward.) Even if you are there solo, maybe don't hook up with anyone there. If you've made a love connection and it's deep and true and real (and not just the shots of Patron) you can call him or her tomorrow, keeping your private life out of sight of management. Also, don't hook up with management.

4.) Did we cover wearing underwear? OK, good. I really cannot stress that one enough.

5.) Don't scream "FREEBIRD" at the band or request "Rag Doll" repeatedly.

Hope this helps all of you use your professional gatherings as a way to network, teambuild and celebrate a year of hard work. Remember to wear underwear!

Her Genius May Not Be Fully Realized in This Lifetime

Message from Circlestar that has made my day - nay, I daresay my LIFE.

"You know you are THAT hungover when you Febreeze yourself."

Appropos of Nothing, I Have the Song "Whatever You Like" Stuck in My Head

Things I Intended To Do Last Night:

-Go for a run
-Take a shower
-Eat dinner
-Watch 30 Rock
-Go to bed early

Things I Did Last Night:

-Went for a run
-Took a shower
-Had some wine with Katie
-Went to a birthday party for a complete stranger
-Shotgunned a Natty Ice with some firemen
-Started a dance party

Sometimes it's best to abandon the expectations and roll with what happens.

Surefire Cure for a Case of the Mondays

It's the Monday after a long holiday weekend. We're all feeling a little blue about being back at work. Perhaps even a bit stressed about hectic schedules and deadlines. Here are some pictures of pretty girls to perk you up. Don't say I never do anything nice for you.

Lili and Juno being freaking adorable.

Katie and CKD enjoying sake and cocktails while making friends with sushi chefs.

A Cute Couple and a Drunk Redhead Walk Into a Bar...

Oh Interweb, you are in for a treat. CKD was in rare form this weekend. Katie's boyfriend Alan came up from Santa Barbara and it was like meeting an old friend. An old friend who buys many rounds of drinks. Enjoy the photographic evidence as we progress from "slightly buzzed" to "shitfaced and kinda retarded." Oh, did I say we? Because I meant me.

Hi Dad!

Katie, Alan and CKD still semi-sober and looking respectable en route to Bar #2.

The song "Kung Fu Fighting" came on at Banshee (Bar #3 for those of you keeping score at home) which kicked my booze-soaked brain into "idiot" and I started kicking my leg up in the air and pretending to karate chop everyone. People find this DELIGHTFUL in case you were wondering. Please note the lovely expression on my face. Please note Alan trying to restrain me.

Really, there are no words.

Uh, dude, watch that hand.

On Runs to the Border, and Being a Classy Lady

Would you think less of me if I told you I went to Taco Bell tonight in my sweatpants, Van Halen 1980 Invasion t-shirt and slippers? Oh, and a Chico State sweatshirt since it's a little chilly out? Would your opinion be any different if I told you that I hit up the drive-thru, so no one saw the slippers?

I also feel it bears mentioning that I did wear my pearl earrings on this outing. But even that may be canceled out by my decision to go commando and freestyle.

Lessons Learned

Maybe next time I go out for drinks and dinner with my boss and our construction management teams (ie my mom and her co-workers) I won't say or do any of the following:

-ask any of the guys if he has his period (or call him a "pussy") if he sticks to beer

-pretend to fellate an empty tequila bottle for photos

-describe my plan to enchant the bouncer with my wit and charm, but tell the intern she may need to switch to plan B: "Bewitch Him with Your Ta-Tas"

-tell the waitress to keep my whiskey sours "light on the sweet-n-sour"

-do the "Peter Fawzi" dance: pantomime licking my hand and then spanking an imaginary ass at the dinner table

So with me off to an excellent start a few of us headed to the Mother Hips show so I could wish the birthday boy well. The show was fun but it has become increasingly obvious that I cannot handle roughly 98% of my fellow humans. I understand you're trying to drunkenly maneuver your way through the crowd, but please don't put your sweaty hand on me.

Then the cab driver and I had a cool talk about sustainability and bringing some small changes into your home. He's going to start replacing his regular lightbulbs with CFL's. Good to know I can function after five whiskey sours and two beers. Made me feel like Big Tom Callahan.

Stay Classy, San Diego: The Photos

Here's some evidence of Juno's supreme beauty and sweet nature, as well as our last-minute Halloween costumes.

Oddly enough, the shot of Daddy in a half-shirt and skirt did not make it over to me...Hmmm....

Sadly, this beautiful girl fell asleep before the official Halloween festivities got going, but we had a fashion show on the bed while she was still perky. Please note her bright eyes, smile and my ass in the background.

Prom Queen CKD, Goddess/MILF Lili and Kitty Kat Katie before hitting the party across the street.

(Alternate captions for this photo: Juno Has Two Mommies and Shnoowich)

Hey, guess who is too old to stay up all night and then look semi-human the next day? Mommy had the good sense to come home and go to sleep. Auntie? Not so much. I hope Juno doesn't associate me with the smell of vodka and exhaustion. Everyone knows my signature scent is whiskey and regret.

All Philosophical and Stuff

This weekend was pretty mellow until Katie rolled back into town. Pedicures on a Sunday afternoon? Yes! Very relaxing and wholesome and oh no...there's a liquor store next to the nail place.

A mimosa (mixed in the car with screw-top champagne in a Pepsi cup) and pretty toenails later, we are rolling our eyes at the loud, high-maintenance crew that come in after us. "Ooooh! The water is TOO HOT. That red is TOO RED." Oh, shut up before I punch you in the face. Yes, I feel girly and sassy after being pampered but I WILL THROW DOWN, BITCH, IF YOU DON'T WIPE THAT FACE OFF YOUR HEAD.

We needed to offset the estrogen fest with some boozing and sporting...and fried food of course. Pretty much my perfect day until I bit into a fried mozarella stick and almost burnt off half my face when grease squirted out. Then, I totally blew Katie's mind at the End Zone by pointing out that we were watching TWO Tampa Bay teams play simultaneously. And I convinced her to have a kid in a few years. You're welcome, Alan.

Conte and Pollie Get Married!

Saturday night in Pasadena? Of course I crashed a wedding! Did you expect anything else?

OK, full disclosure: I was invited to crash. I met Conte at Boy Chris' bachelor party and knew he was a kindred spirit (read: total drunk, just like me). I had the pleasure of meeting his gorgeous bride Pollie when Boy and Katie were married, and they were gracious enough to invite me for the booze-and-boogie portion of their wedding. Congratulations! (In case it isn't glaringly obvious, I went for the brown halter dress - thanks for your votes!)

How cute are my friends? So freaking cute!

Haaaave you met Cappa? You really should.

Beautiful Bride Pollie flanked by Cappa and Girl Chris.

Sorry, Ladies, he's taken. I'm convinced Conte and I are related.

Hotties at the party: Kristie, Cappa, and Nikki.

If this man ever asks you to give the bartender a thumbs up - don't! Boy Chris and Katie looking adorable as usual. Thanks for letting me stay with you!

Kendrick and Wong keep the "thumbs up" action going.

My new friend Jen (rocking my extra pashmina) and Cappa keep it classy.

Oh, I've got your Double-Double right here.

What happens when a car full of drunks stops at In-n-Out at 1am? Milkshake down! Thank God Cappa captured this on film INSTEAD OF HELPING US WIPE IT UP.

At the Bar

Choice quotes from last night. We took it pretty easy, and so I can actually remember conversations. How fortunate for you, Interweb! Enjoy.

Conte: "Dude, you're a firecrotch!"
Pollie: "Not everyone likes the word 'crotch' you know."
Conte: "Sorry, FireBUSH."

Kendrick: "Girl Chris is not just stabbin' crazy but stab-and-TWIST crazy!"

Kendrick: "So, you've been partying it up here."
Me: "Yeah, I tackled Wong when he walked in the door."
Wong: "I cut my lip. You got your shoulder under my chin and I could taste blood."
Kendrick: "That's how you know Girl Chris is in town. You're bleeding from the mouth."

Conte, after running up to everyone in our group and hitting them on the ass with his shoe: "O'DOYLE RULES! O'DOYLE RULES!"

Oh, Yeah, This IS a Business Trip

The original reason for flying down to Pasadena was to attend a conference put on by Green Technology magazine. The focus is green building and the community college system, which is pretty much what my job is all about. It was an amazing, overwhelming, exciting, educational event and I feel re-energized about my gig. Also, my boss won an award so I feel superior to a lot of other people. Shocker.

Last night I got a peek at some photos from Boy Chris' bachelor party that I completely forgot about. Looks like someone was rolling blank tape in Vegas. Excellent. Anyway, nothing terribly scandalous, but nothing I want my grandma to see.

Today is Day 3: Operation Destroy My Liver. Apparently we're headed to old town to watch the Dodgers (I am so mad I forgot my Giants hat!) and visit with more friends. Tomorrow's agenda includes sleeping in, time by the pool and possibly beer. OK, DEFINITELY beer. Let's do this!