Category Archives: Social

Barn Party

June 2, 2006SocialMush

06/06/06 UPDATE:
THE BARN PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED.
BREAD AND MUSH WILL BE OUT OF TOWN.
WE’LL HAVE A PARTY WHEN WE GET BACK, WE PROMISE. SORRY!
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In which the party is officially announced!

We’ll be having a barn party on Saturday, June 17th. Be there or be somewhere else!

WHY YOU SHOULD COME:

There might be a keg. Or two.
You can BBQ. Bring your own grillables! (Bring a side dish to share, too, if you’re able.)
Live music! We present the following bands: House 11. Maybe the Jefferson County Green Band, I haven’t asked ’em yet.
Bonfire! (You can bring something to burn. We prefer couches and very dry Christmas trees.)
Camping! (Don’t drive drunk! Pitch a tent, stay the night. We’ll figure something out for breakfast when the time comes.)
Swimming!
Fishing, even!
Free parking!

WHO IS INVITED:

You! You can come.
You can also come if you’re a canine, but you will probably get absolutely lousy with ticks and fleas as the little fuckers are everywhere this spring, but you will have too much fun to notice mere parasites. Please don’t come if you’re an uncut male, though.
You can come if you are not a human nor a canine, but a chicken. You may get eaten by a canine, though, so watch out!
You can come if you are a minor, but you can’t drink. (Minors who arrive already drunk will absolutely piss me off to no end, and will probably find themselves forcibly denied the keys to their vehicles until they are horrifically, awfully, totally stone cold sober.)
You can come if you are not a human nor a canine nor a chicken, but I’m not sure we’ll have appropriate refreshment for your species. So do as we do: pack it in, pack it out! We hope you like live music! (But any fusion bottles or gravity generators you happen to leave lying around we’ll keep. By the way, we’d really appreciate it if you could refrain from eating the humans and/or the canines, at least during the live music anyway.)

WHERE:

Driving directions from 2nd & Burlington in Fairfield to our place. Call if you get lost.

I'm Too Old For This Shit

May 8, 2006SocialMush

In which I partied like it was 1999: all. night. long.

Friday I rolled out of work at five and went straight to Amazon Blonde’s, where I made the Most Brilliant Batch of Pico de Gallo Ever while she made some really incredible guacamole. Then I smoked a cig with Truck on the back deck and he told me about insurance adjusting school.

I went home to get Bread. He wanted to get him some nookie but I didn’t want to give it to him, so he sulked for awhile we didn’t get to the party for two hours.

When we did arrive, the party was in full swing. I sat and grazed on yummy food for awhile, then Ray poured me a cup of her delicious sangria. Both Ray and Gorgeous are totally stoved up; Ray has a ruptured disc and Gorgeous was in that horrible car accident and they’re both in constant pain… they move with a kind of intentional delicacy that makes me feel bad for them.

Eventually the party moved to the bar. I went with Ray and Gorgeous on a few errands — to get Mother’s b-day present from Gorgeous’ house, drop by Ray’s so she could get cash, buy myself cigarettes — and we arrived at the bar sometime around eleven. We started with shots of tuaca.

Eventually the rest of Amazon Blonde’s party arrived as well. We did the bar thing: sit here, sit there, stand in line for the bathroom, stand in line for drinks, socialize socialize socialize. It was loud and packed and fun.

My favorite image is of Amazon Blonde, sitting at the bar, cuddly drunk and cute, with an empty sangria container in her arms. She was diligently eating all the fruit out of the bottom. She was surrounded by people who kept bumping into her and jostling her, but she was quietly focused on getting her hand into the jar and her hand to her mouth. Bread ended up taking her home later. I haven’t spoken to her, but I’d imagine she was hung as hell the next day. Continue reading I'm Too Old For This Shit →

Shopping for Mexican

April 30, 2006Domestic Goddess, Love & Marriage, SocialMush

In which we prepare for Friday’s par-tay.

Saturday Bread and I went to town and had McDonald’s for breakfast. I know, I know. Don’t say anything.

Then we went to the vet’s and bought Frontline for the animals. Then we bought kibbles for the animals. Hundred and ten bucks right there. (Next time, we’re getting gerbils. I swear to God, three dogs and a cat’s a habit more expensive than drugs.) Then home.

I had a lunch date with NLW at noon-thirty, but I was totally late and the poor woman was starving when I got there. She fed me spinach pesto and we drank the six dollar bottle of wine I’d brought. Somehow during the course of the afternoon I spent sixty bucks on yarn, needles, and a pattern — I’ll be knitting this in a week or so. My first sweater! Hopefully starting it in May will mean I’ll actually be wearing it by next winter. (I’m still knitting the Fuzzyfeet my mother requested last Thanksgiving.)

I stopped at the store for a few things afterward and was home a little after five. Bread talked me into going back to town for the third time that day, and we ate dinner at the Dead Cock. It was slow in there, mellow and quiet. We watched South Park and went home.

Today I slept ’til ten. (Yes!) When I got up, Bread was doing laundry. Then we went to Nanner’s house, and Bread cooked breakfast. I have no idea why he cooked breakfast; he just did. He made asparagus, tomato, and onion omelettes with hash browns. It was awesome.

Nanner gave me an office chair. When we got home, I cleaned my office and the bedroom and swept the parts of the second storey that aren’t actually under construction. Bread brought my new chair in. IT ROLLS. I love it. It’s a totally legit office chair! It has arm rests and it’s adjustable and everything. It’s possible that I’ve never been happier about a chair in my entire life.

Amazon Blonde and Truck came out; Truck stayed here and AB and I went to ScrOttumwa to do our Cinqo de Mayo shopping at the big goddamned community-killer they call Super Wal-Mart. It’s so fuckin’ cheap I feel dirty — and not in a good way — whenever I go there: we bought a cart full of stuff and it only cost $66. And $22 of that was for the half-gallon of namebrand rum we’d bought!

I know their prices will pop back up to average after they’ve killed all the older, smaller grocery stores in town, but for now? You just can’t get shit cheaper anywhere else. (Plus their Mexican — excuse me, Hispanic — food selection is much broader than any of Fairfield’s stores.)

After shopping, AB and I stopped at the Tom-Tom Tap for cocktails and a gossip. It was lovely. Love the Tom-Tom.

Later, at home, I folded Bread’s laundry (in order to empty the dryer so I could wash and dry my own clothes) and Bread did the dishes. If the fucker’s not careful, I’m going to start believing him soon when he says he’s actually learned to be a decent roommate.

In other news, I had goblinbox moved over to the new server, but then Keef had an interaction with the new server’s support/billing departments that was so scary and wrong it just boded badly for the whole enterprise and he dropped that whole thing like it was hot and got a server elsewhere. So I have to move the whole goddamned site again, but it’s nine o’clock on Sunday night and I ain’t drivin’ to town to do it now, and I sure as hell ain’t doing it over dial-up from home.

In short, there may be outages tomorrow in goblinboxland. But rest assured, my babies, that mamma’ll be workin’ on it.

Drunk as a Skunk

April 24, 2006SocialMush

In which I get absolutely shitty, for no reason whatsoever.

Sunday I was sitting at my computer loading crap onto my newly resurrected Pocket PC when I heard Bread yell, “Mush!” Since it’s so like him to sit on his ass on the couch and yell for me to come to him when he wants to say something, I ignored him for awhile. Then curiosity got the better of me and I walked downstairs.

“Lunch. La Hacienda,” he said.

“When?” I asked.

“Now.”

“Who?” I countered.

“KR, BoSe, Truck, Amazon Blonde. Hot Lips and his girlfriend. Maybe some other people.”

“The whole fam damily, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, gimmie one sec.” And I ran upstairs to get my stuff from my desk and find my Birks.

We drove to the restaurant and drank margaritas and laughed and ate and had a grand old time, then we adjourned to the new bar. (When a new bar opens, it’s a red letter event in this town. There are so few places to go, that the news of the addition of a new one causes months of anticipatory gossip.)

At the new bar, I started drinking lemonade & vodka. I have no idea how many drinks I had.

I had a great time, old friends were there, I made a new friend in Hot Lips’ woman, and my glass was always full. I’m pretty sure Big Daddy (the bartender) bought me a round. I know my new best GF bought me a shot of jager, and I was drunk enough that I actually did the shot. I would never do that sober, believe you me.

Then Bread made me leave. THANK GOD. We got drive-thru from Taco Hell and I considered puking out the window of his truck at least twice on the drive home.

When we got home, I’m pretty sure I threw up twice before passing out by 6:30. I woke up at midnight and ate some of my drive-thru food. (Note: if you leave Nachos Bell Grande in the fridge for five hours? it basically turns into a big soft taco with plasti-chee.) I drank several glasses of water and went back to bed.

At five this morning I had two glasses of water and went back to bed.

At nine this morning I had a glass of water, IMed work to tell them I’d be late, ate most of a soggy Seven Layer burrito, and went back to bed.

At one thirty this afternoon, I IMed work to tell them I was a stupid piece of shit who wouldn’t be making it in after all, had two glasses of water and two glasses of Tang, updated my blog, and went back to bed.

Bread thinks this whole thing is extremely funny. Probably because he’s not still drunk and his head’s not fucking pounding!

Girls, girls, girls

April 15, 2006Pets, SocialMush

In which it is girls’ night out! Whoop!

Gorgeous texted me Friday night: ‘Pre-party at my house 9:pm.’

I was late, of course. Bread and I had had a fight, and after had to spend some quality time “making up,” if you catch my drift. When nine came by, we were in the shower. I got quickly dressed and as I was leaving, Gorgeous texted me to say, “Where u at?”

I texted something dirty back to her — something along the lines of ‘on my way, had to get me some’ — and hopped in the jeep and drove right to her house stopping only at Mi-T-Mart for cigs.

Gorgeous & Rockstar and Ray were chillin’ in the basement, and we started drinking Tuaca while we chatted and watched a Jamiroquai vid. (I love Jamiroquai, OMG.) TiRi came over; I haven’t seen her in forever and she looks fantastic, so skinny and tanned with her cute little belly jewelry. By eleven thirty it was decided we absolutely must at least make an appearance at the bar; we four women walked over. At the Dead Cock we socialized and had drinks.

Gorgeous, Ray, at the Red Rock

When the bar closed at two, we walked back to Gorgeous’s house, screaming loudly the whole way about sex. Particularly, the myriad of wrong ways there are to perform oral sex on a woman and about the prettiest cocks we’d seen in our various sordid careers. It was a complete and total drunken laff riot. By the time we entered Gorgeous’s neighborhood, we were hissing loudly in an attempt to be quiet, hanging off each other, cackling, and trying not to trip over the broken sidewalks.

We hung out in the basement until nearly four in the morning. A few other people were there when we arrived, hanging out with Rockstar; a few more were supposed to come for afterhours but never did.

I drove Ray and TR back to 2nd street, where they’re next door neighbors, and then crashed on the bed in Ray’s basement ’cause I wasn’t in any shape to drive all the way to B-ville.

I woke up at 10:30 this morning because my phone rang. I missed the call, but it was NLW wanting me to do something with her so she could escape having to work all day. I went upstairs but Ray wasn’t home (and she hadn’t left me a note, either, wench) and then I went back downstairs, curled up with my new best friend Miss Muffin — the friendliest, cutest little tortoise shell cat you ever did see — and called Bread.

“Hi,” I said when he answered. “I’m not dead, but I am hung over!”

He laughed and said he’d figured that. We chatted, I agreed to pick up some motor oil for him, we hung up. I called NLW at home, she didn’t answer. I got dressed, sat around a bit, then called Ray. She didn’t answer. I left, drove around a bit, called NLW’s cell. She didn’t answer.

Got coffee, got tacos, went to Wally World. Bought two cheap plastic pitchers, some cheap plastic cups, and two quarts of 10/40. I felt inordinately proud of myself that I’d remembered to get pitchers; our last two were broken and eaten by a dog, respectively.

I got home, made a pitcher of Tang and a pitcher of iced tea, poured myself a cute little lime green-colored plastic cup of Tang, and answered my phone when it rang.

It was Re-re. Her dog, Dhuma, Stella’s sister, is dying. It’s awful. She’s having horrible seizures, isn’t eating or drinking every day, hasn’t gotten out of bed at all today. Re-re’s had that dog for over a third of her life, and Stella’s the same age as Dhuma. You know when you get them that they’ll die someday, but it sucks when it happens. I sat on the porch with my Tang and had a smoke and we talked dogs and life and other stuff; I watched my beloved Bindu as she flopped down under the Little Red Wagon for a nap and realized that she’s ten this year, which is really old for her breed. (An ACD’s life expectancy is 9-10 years.) She’s getting cataracts. And Stella has arthritis and has to be lifted into the truck most days. Oh, the dog love. So deep. *sniff*

Bindu, my Australian Cattle Dog

When Bindu goes, I’ll have to be sedated. Seriously. That little Nazi Hitler of a blue thing owns me, absolutely owns me. I sing “Am I Blue?” to her and change the words so it’s about her. She’s an excellent cuddler. She’s totally velcro, which I love in a dog — I don’t like having to look for them. She’s half cat. She’s wonderful. She’s the dog of my heart.