You got beer on tap?
Showing posts with label beer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beer. Show all posts
Friday, October 21, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Kyna's 30th Birthday Extravaganza:Pt 3~ Buy Me Some Peanuts and Crackerjacks
Sunday morning Chuck and I got up early yet again to go over to Steve's. Steve lives at a more central commuting location than Laura does, so we met up there a lot for things during the trip.
The three of us were making the 3 1/2 hour trip down to Tampa, Florida to catch a Major League Baseball game between the Tampa Bay Rays and the Cleveland Indians.
This was actually my idea. We were going to go see some minor league ball in Jacksonville, but when I checked the Rays website and found out they were playing Cleveland while we were down there, I begged Chuck to go. I'd never seen an MLB game before.
It didn't take much convincing on my part, as they're his favourite team. :)
Growing up in Canada, there wasn't much emphasis put on baseball. I didn't even see ANY emphasis really, until the Toronto Blue Jays won the World Series back to back in 1992-1993. I wasn't really a fan at all.
When I came to live here, Chuck started taking me to Kinston Indians minor league games. They're a farm team for Cleveland. I have such a fun time when we go. The atmosphere of a baseball game is awesome. It's fun chatting with the other fans, eating a hot dog, sipping a beer, and baseball can be exciting too if you know what's going on.
For me, any sport is fun to watch live.
We were planning on taking the rental car down to Tampa, but because we were sans rental car (and my ceiling upholstery was still hanging down like a used condom), Laura lent us her car for the trip. Chuck made Steve drive, which Steve was oh so thrilled about.
I enjoyed listening to Chuck and Steve chatter away, and enjoyed the drive to Tampa. This would be the farthest South I've ever travelled before. (Sad, I know).
I saw this hilarious billboard (twice) from my backseat perch. Click to enlarge. Men, make sure your legs are crossed.
I enjoyed looking at all the palm trees on the way down. I called these ones bearded palms. Chuck said it looked like they were wearing sweaters.
Sorry the quality sucks. That's what happens when you're taking pictures from a speeding car.
And we were speeding along. Can I take this opportunity again to say that Florida drivers are fucking nuts?
We had to drive through Orlando to get to Tampa. Orlando is the home of Disneyworld, a place which every other North American seems to have been but me. In fact, Steve @ The Rainforest Garden just spent his honeymoon there.
I was pretty satisfied with driving right past it. That place is freaking huge, by the way.
Thought this was neat, click the pic
I tried to divert them to take me to Sea World, but no dice.
"There are no dolphins in baseball!!"
We got into Tampa a little later than we wanted to. Steve wanted to get there early so we could tailgate.
If you are unfamiliar with the term 'tailgate', it's basically an American sporting event tradition.
You park your car in the parking lot of the field/stadium way before the game is to start. Some people drink beer. Some people bring little gas grills to cook on in the back of their trucks (hence the 'tailgate'). You can hang out and get happy before watching the game.
If this was ever allowed in Canada, please correct me, but I don't remember anyone doing this when I went to hockey and football games in Edmonton. Popping open a beer in a parking lot isn't legal there is it?? It still weirds me out when I see people tailgating here.
As many of the people were doing that morning. The baseball game was to start at 1:40. We weren't there that much ahead of time, so we made our way into Tropicana Field.
Tropicana Field is actually located in St. Petersburg, Florida. You have to drive on a bridge over the Old Tampa Bay.
There are signs warning you as you approach that long bridge, that it's your last chance to get gas for awhile. I thought that was hilarious. And practical.
If you're freaked out by going over huge-ass bridges? Fugeddabout going to Florida.
Tropicana Field is a covered field, which is unusual. The perks of this are that you don't get roasted in the baking Florida sun, and the game can't get rained out.
The cons are that the turf isn't real and the atmosphere feels a little off. But you know what? I'll take that over a colossal Florida sunburn anyday!
Pretty much everything in Florida is touristy, and the ball field was no exception.
Brightly painted...
...and you can even go upstairs and check out the giant aquarium that houses swimming rays. We didn't do this, but here's what they look like:
Also, like the touristy place it is, they charge you and arm and a leg (and we had to give them Chuck's left nut as well) for your snacks and beer.
$5 for a hot dog, and $9 for a beer. Chuck and Steve protested to the concession guy, like the crotchety middle-aged men that they are.
But guess what? They still bought them anyway.
Steve was incredulous that I kept getting ID'd. When we bought our second beers from the vendor that walks the stands during the game, he made a card-shaped gesture with his hands and pointed at me.
"What?? You're turning 30! You're getting carded? Ridiculous!" exclaimed Steve.
Chuck picked me up at the airport in Florida in 2005 when I flew down for Thanksgiving, and he brought Steve along with him to meet me.
After we left the airport, Chuck and Steve had to go into a gas station to get a couple of things. I stayed in the car.
Chuck told me he asked Steve what he thought about me. Steve's answer was "She doesn't have any wrinkles!"
Hilarious. Anyway, six years later I still don't have any wrinkles. Steve said he wanted to make a bet with the family about when I get my first wrinkle.
I told him he might be dead by then. :)
As we settled in, eating our snacks, I took some more pictures.
The starting pitcher for Cleveland
Chuck's pretty stoked, he hasn't been to an MLB game since the 70's
Steve hates having his picture taken, I forced him into this one. He can take comfort in the fact I look totally unflattering in it.
I posted this one already, but look at it again. In the foreground, you can see that there's an area by the field, where people can sit at tables, and have drinks and nicer food brought out to them. How practical is this? I wonder how many times a home run ball will slam into tables full of drinks and fancy salads? Weird. Anyway...
Oops, forgot the zoom was still on
That's better
There were a lot more Cleveland fans in the crowd than I thought there'd be. Our section was full of them.
Unfortunately, the Indians ended up having their asses handed to them by the Rays, 7-0. Chuck wasn't pleased. I was hoping to at least cheer for one run, but they didn't even get that.
But you know what? I still had an awesome time.
When we walked (Chuck sort of sulked) out of the field afterwards, it was still bright and sunny and hot as balls outside.
I promised my mum a picture of me hugging a palm tree while I was down there. And here it is. People walking by were laughing. I think I look damn cute.
On the ride home, I noticed from the backseat that we were kind of getting low on gas. Knowing how much men love a female backseat driver, I kept my mouth shut. I figured Steve had noticed and had it covered.
He finally says, "Shit. Looks like we need gas. And I wonder why the "Service Engine Soon" light is on?"
I looked over Steve's shoulder. The SES light had indeed just come on.
Chuck said, "Laura's car probably needs an oil change. That light'll come on if it does."
"We'll stop at the next station for gas. Hopefully there's one up here soon," said Steve.
About 10 minutes later, the car starts jerking.
"Uh oh..." said Steve.
"What the fuck?" said Chuck. "Steve, are you doing that?"
"No, man!" replied Steve. "I don't know what's going on...something's wrong..."
I have to hand it to Steve, he's pretty a convincing actor. But I had the advantage over Chuck in that I could see Steve's eyes in the rearview mirror...so I didn't say a thing.
Steve kept Chuck freaking out a few seconds longer, and then revealed he was joking.
You should have seen Chuck's face. Classic.
Thank you to Steve for driving us all the way down there and back, and thank you to Laura for lending us the car to go down there with!
Stay tuned for Part 4, where we go on yet another excursion...I'm sure you're all chomping at the bit.
The three of us were making the 3 1/2 hour trip down to Tampa, Florida to catch a Major League Baseball game between the Tampa Bay Rays and the Cleveland Indians.
This was actually my idea. We were going to go see some minor league ball in Jacksonville, but when I checked the Rays website and found out they were playing Cleveland while we were down there, I begged Chuck to go. I'd never seen an MLB game before.
It didn't take much convincing on my part, as they're his favourite team. :)
Growing up in Canada, there wasn't much emphasis put on baseball. I didn't even see ANY emphasis really, until the Toronto Blue Jays won the World Series back to back in 1992-1993. I wasn't really a fan at all.
When I came to live here, Chuck started taking me to Kinston Indians minor league games. They're a farm team for Cleveland. I have such a fun time when we go. The atmosphere of a baseball game is awesome. It's fun chatting with the other fans, eating a hot dog, sipping a beer, and baseball can be exciting too if you know what's going on.
For me, any sport is fun to watch live.
We were planning on taking the rental car down to Tampa, but because we were sans rental car (and my ceiling upholstery was still hanging down like a used condom), Laura lent us her car for the trip. Chuck made Steve drive, which Steve was oh so thrilled about.
I enjoyed listening to Chuck and Steve chatter away, and enjoyed the drive to Tampa. This would be the farthest South I've ever travelled before. (Sad, I know).
I saw this hilarious billboard (twice) from my backseat perch. Click to enlarge. Men, make sure your legs are crossed.
I enjoyed looking at all the palm trees on the way down. I called these ones bearded palms. Chuck said it looked like they were wearing sweaters.
Sorry the quality sucks. That's what happens when you're taking pictures from a speeding car.
And we were speeding along. Can I take this opportunity again to say that Florida drivers are fucking nuts?
We had to drive through Orlando to get to Tampa. Orlando is the home of Disneyworld, a place which every other North American seems to have been but me. In fact, Steve @ The Rainforest Garden just spent his honeymoon there.
I was pretty satisfied with driving right past it. That place is freaking huge, by the way.
Thought this was neat, click the pic
I tried to divert them to take me to Sea World, but no dice.
"There are no dolphins in baseball!!"
We got into Tampa a little later than we wanted to. Steve wanted to get there early so we could tailgate.
If you are unfamiliar with the term 'tailgate', it's basically an American sporting event tradition.
You park your car in the parking lot of the field/stadium way before the game is to start. Some people drink beer. Some people bring little gas grills to cook on in the back of their trucks (hence the 'tailgate'). You can hang out and get happy before watching the game.
If this was ever allowed in Canada, please correct me, but I don't remember anyone doing this when I went to hockey and football games in Edmonton. Popping open a beer in a parking lot isn't legal there is it?? It still weirds me out when I see people tailgating here.
As many of the people were doing that morning. The baseball game was to start at 1:40. We weren't there that much ahead of time, so we made our way into Tropicana Field.
Tropicana Field is actually located in St. Petersburg, Florida. You have to drive on a bridge over the Old Tampa Bay.
There are signs warning you as you approach that long bridge, that it's your last chance to get gas for awhile. I thought that was hilarious. And practical.
If you're freaked out by going over huge-ass bridges? Fugeddabout going to Florida.
Tropicana Field is a covered field, which is unusual. The perks of this are that you don't get roasted in the baking Florida sun, and the game can't get rained out.
The cons are that the turf isn't real and the atmosphere feels a little off. But you know what? I'll take that over a colossal Florida sunburn anyday!
Pretty much everything in Florida is touristy, and the ball field was no exception.
Brightly painted...
...and you can even go upstairs and check out the giant aquarium that houses swimming rays. We didn't do this, but here's what they look like:
Also, like the touristy place it is, they charge you and arm and a leg (and we had to give them Chuck's left nut as well) for your snacks and beer.
$5 for a hot dog, and $9 for a beer. Chuck and Steve protested to the concession guy, like the crotchety middle-aged men that they are.
But guess what? They still bought them anyway.
Steve was incredulous that I kept getting ID'd. When we bought our second beers from the vendor that walks the stands during the game, he made a card-shaped gesture with his hands and pointed at me.
"What?? You're turning 30! You're getting carded? Ridiculous!" exclaimed Steve.
Chuck picked me up at the airport in Florida in 2005 when I flew down for Thanksgiving, and he brought Steve along with him to meet me.
After we left the airport, Chuck and Steve had to go into a gas station to get a couple of things. I stayed in the car.
Chuck told me he asked Steve what he thought about me. Steve's answer was "She doesn't have any wrinkles!"
Hilarious. Anyway, six years later I still don't have any wrinkles. Steve said he wanted to make a bet with the family about when I get my first wrinkle.
I told him he might be dead by then. :)
As we settled in, eating our snacks, I took some more pictures.
The starting pitcher for Cleveland
Chuck's pretty stoked, he hasn't been to an MLB game since the 70's
Steve hates having his picture taken, I forced him into this one. He can take comfort in the fact I look totally unflattering in it.
I posted this one already, but look at it again. In the foreground, you can see that there's an area by the field, where people can sit at tables, and have drinks and nicer food brought out to them. How practical is this? I wonder how many times a home run ball will slam into tables full of drinks and fancy salads? Weird. Anyway...
Oops, forgot the zoom was still on
That's better
There were a lot more Cleveland fans in the crowd than I thought there'd be. Our section was full of them.
Unfortunately, the Indians ended up having their asses handed to them by the Rays, 7-0. Chuck wasn't pleased. I was hoping to at least cheer for one run, but they didn't even get that.
But you know what? I still had an awesome time.
When we walked (Chuck sort of sulked) out of the field afterwards, it was still bright and sunny and hot as balls outside.
I promised my mum a picture of me hugging a palm tree while I was down there. And here it is. People walking by were laughing. I think I look damn cute.
On the ride home, I noticed from the backseat that we were kind of getting low on gas. Knowing how much men love a female backseat driver, I kept my mouth shut. I figured Steve had noticed and had it covered.
He finally says, "Shit. Looks like we need gas. And I wonder why the "Service Engine Soon" light is on?"
I looked over Steve's shoulder. The SES light had indeed just come on.
Chuck said, "Laura's car probably needs an oil change. That light'll come on if it does."
"We'll stop at the next station for gas. Hopefully there's one up here soon," said Steve.
About 10 minutes later, the car starts jerking.
"Uh oh..." said Steve.
"What the fuck?" said Chuck. "Steve, are you doing that?"
"No, man!" replied Steve. "I don't know what's going on...something's wrong..."
I have to hand it to Steve, he's pretty a convincing actor. But I had the advantage over Chuck in that I could see Steve's eyes in the rearview mirror...so I didn't say a thing.
Steve kept Chuck freaking out a few seconds longer, and then revealed he was joking.
You should have seen Chuck's face. Classic.
Thank you to Steve for driving us all the way down there and back, and thank you to Laura for lending us the car to go down there with!
Stay tuned for Part 4, where we go on yet another excursion...I'm sure you're all chomping at the bit.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Kyna's 30th Birthday Extravaganza:Pt 1~Beer Pressure
For my 30th birthday celebration, we decided to take a trip down to Florida.
When I mentioned going to Florida, I got two different reactions from my Canadian and American friends.
My Canadian friends thought it was awesome. "Have a great time!" they said, or "Wish I was there with you!"
My American friends were like, "Why? Because you feel the need to go somewhere even hotter?" or "Why? Florida's filled with old people," and "Ok. Um. Have fun with that."
The reason I chose Florida, my friends, is that all my in-laws live there. They've been down here a couple of times, but we haven't been down there to see them since November of 2005. Chuck hadn't seen his dad since then.
What was that? Why would I want to visit my in-laws for my birthday??
Am I crazy???
Nah. They're awesome, that's why. I really lucked out in the in-law department.
Aaaaand...who doesn't love palm trees (enough to hug them and squeeze them and call them George)??? I wanted to turn 30 among the swaying palms.
Anyway, we set the alarm for 3:30AM Friday morning to get ready for the 8 hour trip. We wanted to get there early enough to do something on Friday afternoon/evening. We took off about 5AM.
There was a snafu with the rental car we had tried to get, and ended up having to take my 15-year-old Toyota.
I love my old car. It's very good on gas and it gets me to where I want to go. But I was worried about taking it on a 16 hour+ round trip.
...In the intense heat. With an oil leak. No shocks. And slightly saggy roof upholstery.
But we had to take my car, or not go. We chose to take it and bring along a lot of tools just in case. I don't think Chuck could have handled the intense disappointment (ie:crying) on my part if we'd had to stay home. I'd planned this for months.
I love road trips. You get to see a lot of things you wouldn't otherwise see from a plane window. I'm notorious for taking pictures of roadside signs and billboards.
Crossing the Georgia line
I've been through Florida, Indiana, Kentucky, North Carolina,South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, and Virgina. I added Georgia to the list this time. I grew up only a few hours from the border of the northern states and haven't been to any of them, just Southern ones (and Indiana, but we were just barely over the border of Kentucky so it doesn't count).
Anyway, the worst part of the trip was the drive through South Carolina on Hwy 95.
Booooooooooriiiiiing. Felt SO long. And there was no scenery, just a closed in wall of tall forest on either side of us for 200 miles.
Wait, I forgot. There was some scenery. If you call tourist trap destinations 'scenery'.
South Carolina is one of the few states that any old individual can purchase fireworks and set them off legally. So these eyesores are everywhere along the highway.
I'm sure parts of South Carolina are very lovely, if you were taking a less popular route. But I-95 blows some serious goats.
Georgia was really nice to drive through. And it was 100 miles shorter.
The crazy thing about the drive were all the freakin' police that were out that day. It was Memorial Day holiday weekend, the traditional start to the tourist season in the South.
We expected a lot of police on the roads, but this was nuts! I've never seen so many on one drive before.
At every little hiding place possible along the highway sat a police car waiting to chase after someone. We saw large speed traps. Blue lights everyhere. We even saw one cop speed past us and chase someone down over the Georgia-Florida state line, which we didn't think they were allowed to do.
We weren't speeding of course.
We couldn't!
My old car was labouring as it was. In fact, we rode down most of the way to Florida with the air conditioning off. In 95F/35C+ degree heat. We saved an assload in gas money by doing this. And the engine smoked a lot less.
However, having the windows down on the highway created a new problem (besides sweating profusely).
In case you're not sure what is going on in this picture, that is my sagging roof upholstery. Before the trip, it was only slightly saggy.
After an hour or two of the wind whipping up underneath it, it was sagging lower than an 80-year-old man's ballsack.
It was nearly resting on Chuck's head as he was driving (The roof covering, not an 80-year-old man's ballsack. I know you're disappointed. That would have made a more interesting story...)
When we crossed the Florida line, we knew we were going to make it to Jacksonville. That was a huge relief, I'll tell ya. I gave my car an appreciative pat and a treat.
We stayed at my sister-in-law Laura's house in Jax Beach.
Laura's backyard
Laura is an awesome person. She gave us her bed for the weekend, she always made sure we had anything we might want or need. Mention you're hungry and she has a sandwich in your hand before you can even say 'sandwich'. She can talk the hind leg off a mule, but I mean that as a compliment because I can do the same thing. Takes one to know one.
When we got there, she mentioned that she'd made arrangements for all of us to go out to a pub downtown called 'Kickbacks'. She had invited a bunch of her friends out, as well as my brother-in-law Steve and his wife Joan. Rented a chauffeured 16 passenger van to take us all down there and back.
That was a wild ride. In Florida, if the person driving such a vehicle has their chauffeur's license, people can drink in the vehicle. The dude sitting behind me popped open a bottle of champagne unexpectedly, and I just about had to change my pants.
Because I'm such a loud, boisterous person, I think Laura thought I'd fit right in with her friends. They were a loud proud crowd.
They were really nice and friendly people, but I'm completely at a loss when I'm the quietest person in the room. That never happens. When there are 15 other people around me that are louder and crazier than I am...well, I just don't know how to act! I'm sure they thought I was a mousy little wallflower. Which, as you all know, I am definitely not.
We almost got in a horrific accident on the way to the place. The driver of the van merged into a lane and I guess had a major blind spot, because she almost sideswiped a car. You've never seen a dirtier look given than the one the driver of that car gave our chauffeur. Like laser-beams from the woman's eyes. I don't blame her. I had my own angry laser-eyes on the back of our driver's head. Second time in a row I just about had to change my pants.
The driving (if you can call it that) is crazy down in Florida. People don't use their cars to get around, so much as they use them as weapons.
Chuck wants to move down there eventually, but I don't know if I could ever learn to drive that aggresively. And I lived in a busy city for 24 years!
'Kickbacks' is a microbrewery sort of bar. They had a thick book sitting on every table called the 'Beer Bible'. They served a ridiculous amount of beers there. 665 bottled beers, and 80 beers on tap.
You feel like a huge loser if you order a Bud Light. So of course I didn't. Peer (beer) pressure works in mysterious ways.
Chuck's brother Steve and his wife Joan had come seperately, so they were already seated when we got there. When I spotted them, I made a beeline for the seat across from them. Steve is like my brotha from anotha motha. I tell Chuck that he's lucky I didn't meet Steve online first. But then Joan would've had to give me a black eye.
We all had a great time.
Laura's the blonde to the left, and Steve is to the left of her on the edge. My right boob is to the right of the frame
Both my boobs made it into this picture
Laura's date
For some reason, one of the quirks of the place was putting mannequin heads saying 'Reserved' on tables that were called for ahead of time. Laura thought they were hilarious. She kept poking Steve with the one from our table.
Steve finally had enough and scared the shit out of her with it. She yelled and scared the shit out of everyone in the bar. It was hilarious. THIRD time of the night I almost had to change my pants.
Note to self: Bring extra pants when on a night out with the in-laws.
Hanging out with the three siblings is always a great time. They all love to tease the hell out of each other. I'm going to talk about them a little more in my next post.
When I mentioned going to Florida, I got two different reactions from my Canadian and American friends.
My Canadian friends thought it was awesome. "Have a great time!" they said, or "Wish I was there with you!"
My American friends were like, "Why? Because you feel the need to go somewhere even hotter?" or "Why? Florida's filled with old people," and "Ok. Um. Have fun with that."
The reason I chose Florida, my friends, is that all my in-laws live there. They've been down here a couple of times, but we haven't been down there to see them since November of 2005. Chuck hadn't seen his dad since then.
What was that? Why would I want to visit my in-laws for my birthday??
Am I crazy???
Nah. They're awesome, that's why. I really lucked out in the in-law department.
Aaaaand...who doesn't love palm trees (enough to hug them and squeeze them and call them George)??? I wanted to turn 30 among the swaying palms.
Anyway, we set the alarm for 3:30AM Friday morning to get ready for the 8 hour trip. We wanted to get there early enough to do something on Friday afternoon/evening. We took off about 5AM.
There was a snafu with the rental car we had tried to get, and ended up having to take my 15-year-old Toyota.
I love my old car. It's very good on gas and it gets me to where I want to go. But I was worried about taking it on a 16 hour+ round trip.
...In the intense heat. With an oil leak. No shocks. And slightly saggy roof upholstery.
But we had to take my car, or not go. We chose to take it and bring along a lot of tools just in case. I don't think Chuck could have handled the intense disappointment (ie:crying) on my part if we'd had to stay home. I'd planned this for months.
I love road trips. You get to see a lot of things you wouldn't otherwise see from a plane window. I'm notorious for taking pictures of roadside signs and billboards.
Crossing the Georgia line
I've been through Florida, Indiana, Kentucky, North Carolina,South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, and Virgina. I added Georgia to the list this time. I grew up only a few hours from the border of the northern states and haven't been to any of them, just Southern ones (and Indiana, but we were just barely over the border of Kentucky so it doesn't count).
Anyway, the worst part of the trip was the drive through South Carolina on Hwy 95.
Booooooooooriiiiiing. Felt SO long. And there was no scenery, just a closed in wall of tall forest on either side of us for 200 miles.
Wait, I forgot. There was some scenery. If you call tourist trap destinations 'scenery'.
South Carolina is one of the few states that any old individual can purchase fireworks and set them off legally. So these eyesores are everywhere along the highway.
I'm sure parts of South Carolina are very lovely, if you were taking a less popular route. But I-95 blows some serious goats.
Georgia was really nice to drive through. And it was 100 miles shorter.
The crazy thing about the drive were all the freakin' police that were out that day. It was Memorial Day holiday weekend, the traditional start to the tourist season in the South.
We expected a lot of police on the roads, but this was nuts! I've never seen so many on one drive before.
At every little hiding place possible along the highway sat a police car waiting to chase after someone. We saw large speed traps. Blue lights everyhere. We even saw one cop speed past us and chase someone down over the Georgia-Florida state line, which we didn't think they were allowed to do.
We weren't speeding of course.
We couldn't!
My old car was labouring as it was. In fact, we rode down most of the way to Florida with the air conditioning off. In 95F/35C+ degree heat. We saved an assload in gas money by doing this. And the engine smoked a lot less.
However, having the windows down on the highway created a new problem (besides sweating profusely).
In case you're not sure what is going on in this picture, that is my sagging roof upholstery. Before the trip, it was only slightly saggy.
After an hour or two of the wind whipping up underneath it, it was sagging lower than an 80-year-old man's ballsack.
It was nearly resting on Chuck's head as he was driving (The roof covering, not an 80-year-old man's ballsack. I know you're disappointed. That would have made a more interesting story...)
When we crossed the Florida line, we knew we were going to make it to Jacksonville. That was a huge relief, I'll tell ya. I gave my car an appreciative pat and a treat.
We stayed at my sister-in-law Laura's house in Jax Beach.
Laura's backyard
Laura is an awesome person. She gave us her bed for the weekend, she always made sure we had anything we might want or need. Mention you're hungry and she has a sandwich in your hand before you can even say 'sandwich'. She can talk the hind leg off a mule, but I mean that as a compliment because I can do the same thing. Takes one to know one.
When we got there, she mentioned that she'd made arrangements for all of us to go out to a pub downtown called 'Kickbacks'. She had invited a bunch of her friends out, as well as my brother-in-law Steve and his wife Joan. Rented a chauffeured 16 passenger van to take us all down there and back.
That was a wild ride. In Florida, if the person driving such a vehicle has their chauffeur's license, people can drink in the vehicle. The dude sitting behind me popped open a bottle of champagne unexpectedly, and I just about had to change my pants.
Because I'm such a loud, boisterous person, I think Laura thought I'd fit right in with her friends. They were a loud proud crowd.
They were really nice and friendly people, but I'm completely at a loss when I'm the quietest person in the room. That never happens. When there are 15 other people around me that are louder and crazier than I am...well, I just don't know how to act! I'm sure they thought I was a mousy little wallflower. Which, as you all know, I am definitely not.
We almost got in a horrific accident on the way to the place. The driver of the van merged into a lane and I guess had a major blind spot, because she almost sideswiped a car. You've never seen a dirtier look given than the one the driver of that car gave our chauffeur. Like laser-beams from the woman's eyes. I don't blame her. I had my own angry laser-eyes on the back of our driver's head. Second time in a row I just about had to change my pants.
The driving (if you can call it that) is crazy down in Florida. People don't use their cars to get around, so much as they use them as weapons.
Chuck wants to move down there eventually, but I don't know if I could ever learn to drive that aggresively. And I lived in a busy city for 24 years!
'Kickbacks' is a microbrewery sort of bar. They had a thick book sitting on every table called the 'Beer Bible'. They served a ridiculous amount of beers there. 665 bottled beers, and 80 beers on tap.
You feel like a huge loser if you order a Bud Light. So of course I didn't. Peer (beer) pressure works in mysterious ways.
Chuck's brother Steve and his wife Joan had come seperately, so they were already seated when we got there. When I spotted them, I made a beeline for the seat across from them. Steve is like my brotha from anotha motha. I tell Chuck that he's lucky I didn't meet Steve online first. But then Joan would've had to give me a black eye.
We all had a great time.
Laura's the blonde to the left, and Steve is to the left of her on the edge. My right boob is to the right of the frame
Both my boobs made it into this picture
Laura's date
For some reason, one of the quirks of the place was putting mannequin heads saying 'Reserved' on tables that were called for ahead of time. Laura thought they were hilarious. She kept poking Steve with the one from our table.
Steve finally had enough and scared the shit out of her with it. She yelled and scared the shit out of everyone in the bar. It was hilarious. THIRD time of the night I almost had to change my pants.
Note to self: Bring extra pants when on a night out with the in-laws.
Hanging out with the three siblings is always a great time. They all love to tease the hell out of each other. I'm going to talk about them a little more in my next post.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Is It Possible to Gain 15 Pounds In 4 Hours?
Canadian Thanksgiving was a roaring success. I am significantly fatter. That is, of course, the measurement by which I judge the success level of a holiday.
The football (see IG, I said FOOTBALL) match I was supposed to play in on Sunday afternoon did get cancelled. I was highly bummed. But hopefully the one planned for next Sunday will stay on. And it was probably for the best anyway, because we had a lot more preparation to do for dinner than I thought we would!
In our house, Chuck and I team up on cooking big dinners. Chuck's favourite dishes had to be started the earliest. Here his is chopping a pukeabaga, I mean, a rutebaga...
We actually had a small argument about the difference between a turnip and a rutabaga. Luckily it did not come to fisticuffs.
I made sure the table was set, and the beer was stocked!
Yes yes, the orange stuff was for the one teetotaler that we invited. We're not all sots you know! Just most of us.
We cooked a ham and a bone-in turkey breast, and when we went to open the turkey breast, we found that there were no giblets in the cavity!
Chuckles was highly disappointed. His specialty at thanksgiving is making his famous giblet gravy.
When I first met Chuck, I went down to Florida with him for American Thanksgiving in November. His sister had made some giblet gravy, and I was slightly horrified.
"Turkey HEARTS? IN MY GRAVY??? And what the hell is a gizzard??"
I must have turned green.
I've always been a picky eater, but I decided to suck it up and try it.
And it was delicious!
To this day I can't actually touch giblets without being grossed out. But I sure do love the word 'giblet'. Giblet giblet giblet. If I had a son, I'd name him Giblet. Gib for short. It would be cute! (This is why it's a good thing I'm not a mother.)
Anyway, with no giblets in the cavity, I ran off to the grocery store for the express purpose of seeing if they sold giblets seperately. And they do! Score!
They look way more delicious when they're chopped up, I promise.
My friends came over after 5. They came bearing ramekins of pumpkin mousse, and a nice bottle of Shiraz. And more beer!
I forced my friend Sean to carve the turkey while we were getting the last of the dishes ready to serve. He insisted on using the electric knife for obscene purposes.
Hell, all three men attending are Irishmen. I should expect shenanigans.
How many Irishmen does it take to carve a turkey? Two.
I don't even have a punchline. It just takes two, huddled quietly in the corner.
That's Sean's girlfriend Andie on the left, and my friend Kristyn from work on the right. Her boyfriend Dave was probably outside smoking.
Here's me showing off the present my Mum sent me. Perfect for Canadian Thanksgiving!
My stepdaughter was also in attendance. Here she is in her natural habitat...in front of the computer, watching YouTube.
Dinner was absolutely delicious. We decimated the meal. After we were finished eating (actually we were kind of grazing like cows until late night), we all fell into a tryptophan coma. A couple of us had the meat sweats.
Andie had the same reaction to the gravy that I first had when I heard about it. Although she didn't find out until after she had eaten it...which was probably a good thing.
"You mean giblets are organs? There are organs in this? I just ate organs??'
Luckily it was delicious, so she forgave us.
And now that thanksgiving's over....I'm gearing up for thanksgiving!
In 4 short weeks, we'll be ready for round two!
If you need me, I'm going to be jogging. A lot. Because if I put on another 15 pounds, someone might accidentally shoot me with a tranquilizer dart and tag my ear.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Four Years Gone
Chuck has a cancer check-up tomorrow. We're not sure if it's #4 or #5. He has to have a CT scan and a doctor's appointment every year for 5 years. But we don't know if that 5 years started in 2006 or what. I'm thinkin' we've got one more year left. After the 5 years are up? Then it looks real good for the cancer not reappearing.
If you're totally confused, and have no idea what I'm on about, please refer to this post.
We're going up to Greenville, and we're going to make a day of it. First the CT scan at 9:30. Then we'll be waiting around for a few hours, and hopefully getting some delicious BBQ pork at B's BBQ. You've got to get there early, or else they're out of BBQ and they close. THAT'S BAD. Then it's off to see Chuck's oncologist in the afternoon. He'll let us know if they saw anything funny (not funny ha-ha...funny-bad) on the scan.
And then off to Kinston to see an Indians' baseball game! Hotdogs and beer. Mmm.
I'm determined to turn a scary day into a date. Because then it doesn't feel so scary. My husband Chuckles is awesome, by the way. If you knew him, you'd love him too.
If you're totally confused, and have no idea what I'm on about, please refer to this post.
We're going up to Greenville, and we're going to make a day of it. First the CT scan at 9:30. Then we'll be waiting around for a few hours, and hopefully getting some delicious BBQ pork at B's BBQ. You've got to get there early, or else they're out of BBQ and they close. THAT'S BAD. Then it's off to see Chuck's oncologist in the afternoon. He'll let us know if they saw anything funny (not funny ha-ha...funny-bad) on the scan.
And then off to Kinston to see an Indians' baseball game! Hotdogs and beer. Mmm.
I'm determined to turn a scary day into a date. Because then it doesn't feel so scary. My husband Chuckles is awesome, by the way. If you knew him, you'd love him too.
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