Smiling Faces. Beautiful Places.

In preparation for my house hunting trip that we embark on tomorrow, I have been reading "Guide to Greater Columbia, South Carolina." It is quite the relocation manual, chock-full of maps and shopping guides and voter registration laws. It also has a thorough section on public schools including a list of the "Hall of Fame" alumni from Richland School District One - a doctor who was awarded a Nobel Prize for inventing the polymerase chain reaction, the youngest Miss America to ever wear the crown (1993), and the commander of the 1994 flight of the Space Shuttle Discovery. How impressive - I was starting to feel guilty for all my complaining about the abysmal high school drop out rate, until I read:

Timmermand School regularly triumphs as Spelling Bee Champions at the regional competition, their success due to their strong phonics progarm.

Outstanding.

I also leaned that the average high December through February is 58 degrees and the average low never falls below freezing. As a Midwest girl, that sounds stifling. What am I going to do with all my fluffy scarves and gloves?
Columbia does have a "Top Ten in America" zoo. That should be nifty.
Gamecocks vs. Bulldogs 09/09/2006
Theatre - Golf:The Musical and The Lion King of Mali (I'm sure Disney is thrilled)

If you're ever on Jeopardy - The very first bomb dropped by the Allies on Berlin during World War II killed the only elephant in the Berlin Zoo.

- catch the vibes, catch the vibes cause it's lada with the lid off

Time to Detox

In case you read this and worry that it may have shut down at some point over the last week, I will start by saying that my liver is (surprisingly enough) still functioning. My body may not like me very much right now, but so far no major organs have called a strike. You see, Heather came to Chicago to celebrate finishing her third year of med school, celebrate her 25th birthday, celebrate (remember?) Memorial Day and say goodbye before I move. Highlights:

Thursday: 3 bottles of wine
Sushi for dinner followed by an Entourage marathon

Friday: mojito at Millennium Park - beer at Wrigley - beer at McGee's - mojito at Adobo - gimlet and shots at Barleycorn - gimlet, beer and a shot at the Cubby Bear

We went to the Cubby Bear after the Cub's game (that they should have won - I blame Karen, you don't show up to the Friendly Confines late and expect good karma). Mike and Joe were putting on a grand show, and everyone was dancing their butts off. . . except these two drunkards dry-humping behind us. You know the girl I mean - so into grinding on her boyfriend’s thigh that she doesn't realize she is also leaning and rubbing against everyone else around her. I don't like people to be in my personal bubble; so I leaned back into her hard enough to 1) make her stumble back a couple feet and b) nonverbally communicate "get up off me, women!" Unfortunately this was apparently not communicated effectively because she got ballsy and pushed me back, yelling "What did I do to you?"

Now, at this point I could have done all humanity a favor and explained to this girl the concept of personal space, but I did not want to - I was too excited that I was actually in a shoving match! Sweet, this could be my first fight! So, I turned around, put my finger in her face and said (in my best Dirty Harry voice) "You do not want to fuck with me." and pushed her again. She ran away tail between her legs. No first fight then, but it was pretty neat. Too bad my dad had gone home a few minutes earlier. He would have been so proud.

Saturday: champagne at the Hancock - vodka and red bulls at Mullen’s - bottle of water at Hydrate

We headed to the Signature Lounge to watch the Navy Pier fireworks. (Two of my Top Ten at one time!)

To the idiot guy who not once, but twice said, "Those fireworks are really low": Navy Pier does not buy a special "low" type of fireworks. When you are on the 96th floor, 1000 feet in the air, you are just really high. The fireworks are supposed to be below you - that is the effen point.

Later in the evening my friend's gay friend was at Hydrate (formerly Manhole) and "We should go there it is the best dancing in the city!" Now this was my first time at a gay club, but I had heard they are some of the best places to go. Hot guys to dance with who compliment your shoes and don't draw wood, right? Perhaps if you go earlier in the evening, but by 1:30 in the morning these guys have forgotten females exist. It was a blur of bare-chested sweatiness, techno throbbing, and dizzying lights. I did pay attention enough to come up with:

Straight Girl's Rules for Going to a Gay Club:
1. One person in the bathroom at a time
2. No matter the time of day or night, wear dark sunglasses. If you are at a gay bar, you might as well be fabulous/anonymous
3. If you want to find the only straight guy in the entire place - take Heather
4. Do not look at the televisions above the bar - hairy, pasty buns gettin some good lovin. . . 'nuff said
5. Always take their match books because they have pictures of half naked men on them
6. If a man grabs your crotch and walks away disappointed, it is time to go home

Sunday: Hurricanes at home
God bless homemade fondue

Monday: Summer Brew at home

Summer Brew (a.k.a. Get Naked and Fuck)
1 bottle of cheap vodka
3 cheap beers
2 liters of Mountain Dew
2 cans of frozen pink lemonade

Stir and enjoy with burgers.

If you're ever on Jeopardy: North and South Carolina observe May 10th as Confederate Memorial Day.

- lada bleeds Cubby (Union) blue

Hallelujah*

Breaking into Heaven - Stone Roses
Jesusland - Ben Folds
Novocaine for the Soul - Eels
She...Blessed Be the One - Harry Connick Jr.
Jesus Wrote a Blank Check - Cake
Jehovah Made This Whole Joint For You - New Radicals
Local God - Everclear
Jesus Walking on Water - Violent Femmes
To Zion - Lauryn Hill
Personal Jesus (acoustic) - Depeche Mode
Birdhouse in your Soul - They Might Be Giants
Dear God - XTC
Jesus in a Camper Van - Robbie Williams
Jesus Christ - Longpigs
If God Will Send His Angels - U2
Just Like Heaven - The Cure
Lord Only Knows - Beck
Jesus of Suburbia - Green Day
God of Wine (live) - Third Eye Blind

- lada leaves the nightlight on inside the birdhouse in her soul


*Current iPod playlist

i heart cousins

Previously on ladaland (for lala newbies): Saturday, April 08, 2006

This is RAD! My Van

Quote of the day - Tim (in email): "I watched a clip of Bastian shouting out the name into the storm, and if definitely sounds like 'Moon Child' now that I know what it is. It makes me a little sad :( "

- lada smells sex and candy*

* don't you love downloading rockin old songs from iTunes?

A Case of the Mondays

Damn the Man
Today at work we had a conference call. One of my bosses, MM - who is decidedly not a Cubs fan, started off the call asking about the (sweet) fight on Saturday:

MM: What do you guys think? Did that Cubs player make the right choice?
lada thinking: "That Cubs player"?? I don't like where this "right choice" question is going. Why do I feel like I am in Office Space?
Jeff the Sox fan: I think it was a bad decision, violence is never condoned in modern society, even in sports.
MM: But I think we can all understand how it happened, right? When we feel something unfair has happened, we sometimes react aggressively to it. I bet you all have gotten frustrated with a customer before.
Joe the suck-up: Yeah, I know I have overreacted before.
lada thinking: AHH! Is she trying to teach her co-workers a life lesson using Cubs baseball as a freaking metaphor? I don't need a lesson; I have on enough pieces of flare!
MM: Let's come up with a better way he could have handle this. . .
lada sputtering (with the phone safely muted): She better not talk shit about my boyfriend - Michael Barrett is my hero - he is paid to be physical, who can blame him if he starts a rumble every now and then - if anything, he punched some freaking spirit into the rest of the team - and what baseball fan doesn't love a little extra excitement when their team is sucking - I seriously, cannot believe she is relating this to how we should handle angry customers!

T.M.I.
I have a confession – I like a lot of water pressure in my shower. I know I must be the only one who feels this way because every shower in Chicago seems to have really sucky flow (it feels like someone is drooling on me.) I think if other people agreed with me, some plumber's union would do something about it. We live on a lake for Pete’s sake (who the heck is Pete?); no h2o pressure in Vegas might make sense to me, but we are on Lake Michigan. My Aunt in Florida had an amazing shower – it felt like an ocean wave was smacking the back of your head; of course the hot water only lasted six minutes – but as long as you were the first one in the shower every morning, it was bliss.

God bless AM radio
This morning on WGN, I heard a commercial advertising Botox used to treat primary axillary hyperhidrosis, otherwise known as heavy underarm sweating, otherwise known as gross. The odd thing is, along with headache, dry mouth, injection site pain or whatever the usual adverse reactions are, they said cessation of under arm sweating was a side effect. This confused me. I thought no more sweating was the whole point. Which made me wonder, if that is the side affect, what then was the main effect - paralysis of the biceps, severe armpit hair growth?

Maybe I just misheard the commercial. . . I did have the window down and sunroof open even though it was 40 degrees out which meant I had to have the heat on to counteract the cold wind blowing in and then there was the drunk driver in the right lane next to me who didn't see the motorcyclist in front of him and was accelerating way too fast until all of a sudden he did see the cycle and instead of being logical and BRAKING, he decided to pass him which meant suddenly swerving into my center lane - until his delayed reaction revealed to him that I was already occupying the space that he was aiming for in said lane and so he had to counter-swerve back behind the motorcycle and then - real dramatic like - slam on his brakes to go behind both of us in the left lane and speed past. In his (to be fair, it could have been a her) brown pinto. I was distracted, perhaps I misheard the commercial - go Botox!

Quote of the day - Heather (minutes after finishing her last test of third year med school): "It is a good day to be a day-drinker!"

or

Heather: "I need help. I wanted to save money, so I tried highlighting my own hair. . . "

- la la la* da

*Babe rocks!

Cubs Win! Cubs Win!

Karen took me to a Cubbie game on Tuesday. It was superb! Bleacher fans are the best fans in baseball. Woo Woo signed my hat.

The cubs even gave us a shout out on the scoreboard - I freaking almost died. Loved it! Jim you are the coolest Oboikowitch that I have never had the pleasure of meeting. Mad love. Can you be my Cubs hookup for eternity?

Nuptials II (Home)
I've been meaning to report on the trip back to Missouri last weekend. I had to find a way to write it. We went back to Kansas City for our second wedding thing of the year. I was hoping (though not really expecting) it would be one of those amazing homecomings - and it wasn't. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad we went - but well. . . whatevs.

I guess I thought that everything that has happened in my life in the past five years since I lived/loved in KC, would make for a fabulous reunion. A "look, this is my life now!" kind of thing. But everyone else has lived five years of life in that same time: he came out of the closet, she's four weeks pregnant, he has an album, she moved to Alaska, they got married, he graduated nursing school. These were my childhood friends, these are big events in their lives, and I was surprised to find I wasn't that interested. It was as though strangers were telling me they were pregnant.

"Congratulations" (which means nothing because I haven't been in your life for the past five years and when I leave tomorrow I will probably never talk to you again.) "Good luck" (with the new job/same habits/new house/same drama.) "It's late, I'm going home."

Of course by "home" I meant back to Brittney's mom's guest bedroom in the basement where I had dropped off Russ hours earlier, but it didn't matter. Sitting on Marty's back porch, I discovered that even though I was back in the city where I grew up, I still wanted to go home. I realized that KC is not my home anymore; nor is Cincinnati, Chicago or even South Carolina. Home isn't a location - it is where the heart is, and right then, that basement bedroom was home because Russ was there. (Raise your hand if you threw-up a little in your month when you read that. Sorry the sappy-crappy stuff ends here.)

The glaring exception to all this was Faith. It was really, truly great to see her and her family again.

Oh, and people who now live in my old house: the grass desperately needs to be cut. Slackers, that will be a lada national landmark one day, put some effort into it.

I heart cheese
We found a restaurant that serves raspberry baked brie - macaroni and goat cheese with bacon and breadcrumbs - dark chocolate mouse cake - an amazing bottle of Shiraz - and baseball on three flat screens. Holy crap it is sad how excited I get about food. I think I was a fat chick in a former life.

Quote of the day:
gogo: lada, I love you, you rock my ears off!
lada: What? Your ears? Not your socks? What does that even mean?
gogo: What?
lada: What do you mean I rock your ears off?
gogo: What? Uh. . . I'm sorry I can't hear you, my ears are gone.

- lada

Similar Superficial Qualities

I get it. I look like a famous person. I do not need the guy at the drive through commenting on it - I just want my sourdough melt with no onions. I do not need him to tell me he checked the name on my credit card to see if I am her. Is he a moron? I am 25 and she is (will you still need me; will you still feed me) 64. And does he really think she is rolling up to Culver's in her Toyota Corolla?

Fine, I look like her. I believe you. I don't want the cat lady I worked with for seven days to bring me a DVD of one of her movies. I am not going to watch it and then run to the mirror and be suddenly shocked by the resemblance. I know what she looks like.

Come on people. Think before you comment on someone's looks.

Rules:
1. Unless they are both hot, don't comment on a family resemblance.

You say: I can tell you're related. You look so much like Aunt Gertrude!
They say: Oh.
They think: We look alike because we have the same squinty eyes and butt chin. Thank you for pointing that out, jerk.

2. A rich and famous person is not automatically hot.

You say: You look just like Lyle Lovett
They say: Oh, yeah? Umm. . . I wish I could sing like him too. I guess.
They think: People like me, who aren't millionaires, don't get to marry people like Julie Roberts. Thanks, jerk.

3. If you have to defend why a comparison is a compliment, you should not have made it.

You say: Wow, you have red hair. You remind me of Carrot Top.
They say: Uhh...?
You realize what you just said and try to repair the damage: "But I love Carrot Top. . . he is so funny. . . and eh, I think he is hot."
They think: This jerk must be a fucking idiot.

4. Do not make people guess who they resemble.

You say: Do you know who you remind me of?
They think: People tell me I look like Rosie O'Donnell, but maybe. . .
They say: Cameron Diaz?
You say: I was going to say Rosie. But, umm. . . yeah, I can see some Cameron in you too.

Come to think of it, just don't ever tell anyone they look like anyone else. Even if someone looks like Heidi Klum, everyone has probably told her she looks like Heidi Klum and it will only be annoying.

If you're ever on Jeopardy: In 1915, Charlie Chaplin entered a Chaplin look-alike contest and lost. His final standing is not recorded, although it was said he "failed even to make the finals." Chaplin told a reporter at this time that he was "tempted to give lessons in the Chaplin walk, out of pity as well as in the desire to see the thing done correctly."

- la-de-da

Just a Warning

Can you overdose on caffeine? I had a lot last night. Not being a coffee drinker, I am not used to excessive amount of it and excessive amounts are required on a nine hour, overnight, rainy, dark road trip.

2:53 am (two freaking miles from our exit)
state trooper: Good morning. Where you headed?
lada: Her house
Britt: Well actually, my mom's house. We're from Chicago. It's been a long night.
state trooper: Did you just get in town?
lada: Yeah, we left there at 6:00, right in the thick of traffic!
state trooper: Well, you probably would have made it, but when you pass a fully marked state trooper going eleven over...
lada: We thought the speed limit stayed 70. I didn't see the sign that it went down to 65 until we had passed you.
Britt: We did slow down for you.
lada: We did. . .
state trooper: What are you in town for?
lada: Wedding.
state trooper: Who's wedding?
lada: A friend from high school.
state trooper: What high school did you go to?
lada: Raytown High - home of the Blue Jays!
state trooper: Alright, I'll let you off with a warning. Enjoy the wedding.
lada: Thanks, have a good night.
state trooper: Thanks, you too.

- lada, still twitching from the caffeine buzz

Trippy Nuts

I'm going out of town for the weekend. "Trippy Nuts" should keep you busy.
It's kinda hypnotic. . .

SoCa or Bust

We sold the house. Pending the signatures on the final paperwork at the closing, scheduled for mid-July, we sold the house.

The first realtor I interviewed said 4-6 months. Karen G____ said she would shoot for 2 months. Hot damn - 21 days!

We are pretty lucky though, the buyer (Jenny) was on her way to sign an intent to purchase contract at a house around the corner when she drove past our open house sign. She was torn for awhile. We were more expensive - the other house had the stainless steel appliances she liked - we had skylights. . . what would she decide. . . sun or steel. . . steel or sun? Oh yeah, it was dramatic. Phone calls late at night - bargaining back and forth, forth and back (okay, only three calls, it just seemed like a lot more because I had to keep pausing Grey's in the middle of all the "I've got to save the baby, tell me what to do!" moments). In the end Jenny made the right choice. Good for her - stainless appliances are way too trendy anyway (can you say avocado green and harvest gold) Black is the new black.

Here's the part that really inflates my ego:
Not only does Jenny want to buy my house, she wants most of my furniture as well - my dinning room table, entertainment center, computer desk, and the entire six piece bedroom set. Is my decorating taste that phenomenal? Heck yes! (only logical answer with that kind of hard evidence in front of me) Now we have to decide what we want to sell to her and what we want to move. I should take the old curtains; bet I could make a great dress out of them (ain't that what all the girls do in the South?)

So I call Karen, mostly to gloat about my recently discovered decorating genius, but when she started crying instead of laughing, it hit me - crap. I am going to miss my family. My house. My city. The relief and excitement in me a moment ago melted away into tears of my own. I sat on my kitchen floor and noticed how pretty the tears looked splashing down on my ridiculously gorgeous tile. "I will miss you tile." (I actually said that aloud.) "You hid the dirt so well." (Okay, that part I just thought to myself because it was too embarrassing to say out loud - even to ceramic. So, I guess it's probably not a good thing that I am typing it here for all you people to see. . . umm, yeah. . . I was only joking; I scrub my floor every other day. See, doesn't it look clean. . .? )

I am going to miss everything I am leaving behind in Chicago, but I will have to suck it up - trade in my hurricanes for mint juleps and my snow for hurricanes. At least I can take the Cubs with me, Russ says we will get a sports package. (Please no comments on their current record. As I said, I already cried once this week.) And I know all my loved ones will visit us often. Although, you guys might want to wait until we can buy some new furniture; I don't want you to have to eat off the floor - I cannot vouch for its cleanliness.

Quote of the day - Karen: "mmm, hush puppies. . . fried balls of dough!"

- lada definitely likes them apples

The problem with writing letters

In this instant communication society, no one writes letters. We blog, email, text message, Nextel walkie-talkie, instant message - all of these consisting of one, maybe two sentences. Short sweet comments that are relevant at that moment. You want me to write a letter? With a beginning and a middle and an end? I have to come up with something to say that I haven't talked to you about in the last 48 hours via one of the speedy ways previously mentioned. I feel like I need to make an outline.

How about a funny Hallmark card? They have those new ones that play music. I could get one with a Pink Floyd song - "Wish You Were Here"

A postcard? Then you get a "wish you were here" message and picture of a fab skyline with Chicago! written on it all cursivy.

Or, I could just come visit. I could talk to you face to face and then I wouldn't have to worry about spelling or my handwriting or having to use white-out but trying to write over the liquid paper before it is completely dry so the pen gets all gunky and clogged and the paper is an eyesore so I just have to scribble over it which makes it look really messy. . .

Dammit - It's in the mail. You better write me back.

- lada

20 Favorites

PIZZA - chicken, bacon, feta cheese, dough lovers' crust from Randall Road House

FONT - Georgia

STATE - Hawaii (out of the 22 states I have visited so far)

BRA – GapBody, Sleek Nylon Convertible

CONCERT - Tie: Radiohead and Paul McCartney

AMUSEMENT PARK - Paramount's Kings Island - which is also the location of my favorite. . .

ROLLER COASTER - Top Gun

SOFT DRINK (notice I didn't say soda, pop or coke) - Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper (here's the map for those who haven't seen it yet)

DRUNK FOOD - tots and mayo

CHICAGO DJ - Electra on Q101 - From 12-1pm she plays the Last Letter Game. This means the title of the next song played has to begin with the last letter of the previous song title. All requests, all enjoyable.

ELEMENTARY SCHOOL GAMES - (indoors) Heads up 7up, (outdoors) Foursquare*

BROADWAY PLAY - Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat (this was tough, Wicked and Lion King were sooo close)

MALL - Woodfield

DANCE CRAZE - The Twist

ICE CREAM - Black Forest Dream = chocolate ice cream with brownie chunks, cherry pie filling, and fudge from Cold Stone Creamery

MONUMENT - Mount Rushmore

PILLOW - Memory foam and a down alternative body pillow

MOVIE THEATER - Loews 20 in Schaumburg. Who wants popcorn when you can have curly fries?! (However, this could be amended after the Summer of Love edition of "Brew and View" at The Vic. Who wants curly fries when you can have alcohol?)

CHESS OPENING - Queen's Pawn Game

COLOR – green

If you’re ever on Jeopardy: The presidents were selected for Mt. Rushmore based on what each symbolized. George Washington represents the struggle for our independence, Thomas Jefferson the idea of a government for and by the people, Abraham Lincoln - equality and the permanent union of the states, and Theodore Roosevelt for the 20th century role of the United States in world affairs.

- it's la, miss da if you're nasty

*I understand most people feel strongly that kickball is the greatest recess game of all time. I disagree - with so many variables - cherry bombs, bubbles, babies and this new school shit - foursquare is always jolly good fun - in fact, I want to play this instant! In lada's book, it is number one. Kickball is a close second.

¡Cinco de Mayo!

Realmente deseé ver a los Violent Femmes en el concierto esta noche, pero los boletos fueron idos. Ah bien, me sentaré con algunas patatas fritas de tortilla mexicana de cal y unas Coronas para mirar el juego.

Soy emocionado acerca de mi viaje del camino a la Ciudad de Kansas. Ha sido casi cuatro años desde que he estado en casa. Soy curioso a quién veré de Raytown en Westport.

Tim - Vi esto en el aparcamiento hoy y pensé de usted, así que tomé un retrato. ¡Adoro "Las Guerras de la Estrella"!

Tan, es todo para ahora. Arrepentido si mi español es horrible - ha sido un rato.

- láda

masculine vs. feminine

Are we becoming an androgynous society?
I read an article that discussed the growing aggression schools are finding in young girls; it's not just the boys getting into fist fights at school. And fighting isn't the only sign the female sex is merging with the male: female participation in school sports has risen consistently over the past ten years (not to mention our fascination with it once we are out of school - go Cubs/Chiefs/Irish!), nine days out of ten we pull pants out of our closet instead of a dress and pearls, we pursue sex as aggressively as the boys and like to be in control when we get it, we rock out just as hard (Karen and I are always in the pit), and at times we curse like we were raised by sailors (the concept of "mixed company" doesn't even exist anymore).

And you men seem to be meeting women halfway. It is perfectly acceptable for a guy to be wearing diamond studs, gold braided necklaces and a blinging pinkie ring. I work with a man who took his wife's name when they got married. Metrosexuals wax their eyebrows (chests, backs, etc...), turn orange in tanning booths and get "sport" manicures while the male trannies are scouting the mall for a pair of size 15 red crocodile pumps with a matching bag. Some of the guys I asked would be okay staying home with the kids if their wife/partner was the one making more money - some were hopeful it would happen.

You used to see a mother and child at the grocery store on a Wednesday afternoon and assume she was a woman raising her husband's child. Now, you see the same women (or a man dressed as a women, or a women who used to be a man but is now taking estrogen) on a Wednesday afternoon with her adopted Chinese daughter (or ward if she is a nanny or foster parent) and you realize that you cannot assume one fucking thing (oops, there's that sailor coming out in me).

Does the confusion that stems from this blurring of the gender line mean that eventually we will stop worrying about what genitals someone has and where they put them and judge them based on something more useful? Things like their clothes, education level, whether they are a cat or dog person, their weight, intelligence, hair color, if they cheer for the Bulls or the Heat, parenting skills, salary, shoe brand, drink preference. . . you know, the really important stuff.

Top 5 sportswomen of this century (SI)
5. Martina Navratilova - tennis
4. Sonja Henie - skating
3. Billie Jean King - tennis
2. Babe Didrikson Zaharias - track and field
1. Jackie Joyner-Kersee - track and field

Top 5 best dressed men (mensfashion.com)
5. Leonardo DiCaprio
4. Clint Eastwood
3. Bradd Pitt
2. Johnny Depp
1. Tom Hanks

One last note in case you still think men and women are polar opposites:

I like Irish Catholic guys in plaid skirts (who play pipes) just as much as you boys like Irish Catholic girls in plaid skirts (who play pipes) . . . hottie hot hot!

- lada

Next Life

This will waste 10 minutes of your day - The Reincarnation Station

I'm coming back as a rhinoceros.

It says almost 27% of people will be reincarnated as a higher form of life than me - but really, what could be better than a rhino?

- lada rolls in the mud and gores anyone that annoys her

Nuptials (Part I)

Ahh, wedding season. Can you smell the love in the air?
Saturday was the first of a (yet to be determined) number that are lined up for the next few months. This one was a fairly basic gig, a few highlights:

- The church decided last minute that the flower girls couldn't throw rose petals because they might stain the carpet. I personally think the girls' main job was to look cute walking down the aisle, but they had been practicing for weeks so. . . guess who shredded white and green paper napkins (!) so they would have something to sprinkle.
- One of the ring bearers picking his nose mid-ceremony
- Discovering it was an open bar reception when the invitation said it would be cash
- Cream cheese icing instead of butter cream
- Going out for a couple beers afterward in full wedding attire - Heather definitely rocked the full length bride's maid gown. She was even congratulated by strangers (not sure why - it was fairly obvious that she was neither a bride nor a prom queen, but she said thanks anyway)

Other than that, a not too eventful weekend in Indianapolis. Weather was cold and drippy. Cubs were annihilated Saturday (2-16) and Sunday (0-9). I am fairly certain it is because I am not in Chicago. Perhaps my vicinity to Wrigley has an impact on team karma. I will test this hypothesis and get back to you.

I will be driving home in a few hours. Wish I could sleep now. I will add to the nightmare that is the 80/94 construction traffic in a car ride that should be four hours and will end up over six. Seriously, this project was started in 2003. The website informed me:

There is no work scheduled on the Borman Expressway in 2006. The Indiana Department of Transportation (INDOT) will resume construction in Spring 2007 when it begins rebuilding the Borman Expressway interchange at I-65. When finished in 2009, the new highway...

How can they take an entire year off? No wonder it is a six year project. Sucks.
On the drive out to Indy, a green explorer made the brilliant decision to take the shoulder and bypass the miles of bumper to bumper. He passed me, I called him some rather unladylike names, and then a cop passed me. The ensuing ticket writing was at least something to stare at that wasn't a concrete barrier or an orange cone. Maybe something equally dramatic will happen on the way home. . .

Quote of the day - Mother of the ring bearers: "No karate chopping in tuxedos!"

- lada dances around the maypole