I Am ...

... a formerly drunk loser, currently a hungover loser.

Bridge has been trying to get me to eat a toasted bun all day. We compromised and got DQ chicken strip baskets.

I didn't even drink that much last night. It was just so hot and sticky in the bar formerly known as Chalky's. (I am now trying to blame the humidity instead of the cranberried vodka for my headache, weak stomach, overall bleariness.)

I just did a measly 10 minutes on the elliptical and now want to shoot myself. I am not the brightest drunk.

Have you seen Ringo Starr lately? He is a good-looking man, ya'll.

Other people who are cute:
Sarah G's bro
The guy who tells you how to use Google Reader
Bridgie Bear
The 1955 Mouseketeers
The 1989 Mouseketeers

(I'm watching the E True Hollywood Story of the Mickey Mouse Club right now. Can you blame me?)

I am going to sit in a Sioux City park tomorrow and listen to free music all day.

It is Time

I am not sure if enough time has passed to really start dissecting the Yellowstone trip, but I'm going to dip my toes in.

(The trip was fantastic--I was with some of my favorite people and saw beautiful country.)

Here are three of my favorite pics from the trip:


Bridge and I at Yellowstone Canyon



"Wild" donkeys at Custer State Park



Jamesy, Elly-Belly, and us at Mt. Rushmore

Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

OK, so in the DWP this afternoon, we did a multigenre research project. I was in a group with Marcia and Mary. We chose to research Wall Drug for our project.

Here is the song I made up about Wall Drug:

Soooooo,
You’re on a family vacay, and you’re really mad
Cuz your throat's dry and you hate your mom & dad.
Your sister sucks and you have motion sickness
Well, brother let me be your witness.

There’s one place to go, it will be the most fun,
You’ll take old timey photos under the sun
You can pan for gold, you can buy a Jackalope
Is there a better place than this? Huh-uh! Nope!

It’s Wall Drug (Wall Drug)
It’s got a frontier town feel (Wall Drug)
It’s only 350 miles away (Wall Drug)
Hey, it’s probably not racist at all (Wall Drug)


And the ice-cold water is free
(the ice-cold water is free)!

I Get So Emotional, Baby

OK, so I was sad for awhile. Lots of stuff is/was making me feel disappointed and down, but that feeling is lifting now. This week has started out well.

My crazy Southern aunt is coming through town today. She lives outside of Tulsa and was home in NoDak for a week. I wasn't able to go home and see her, and since Vtown is only 8 miles off 1-29, they're stopping in. I am excited for her to see my house. She is one of my favorite people. She took glamour shots in the early 1990s in case she ever goes missing. Her big-haired leather-clad glamour shot is the one she wants to give to the news. She calls us both "career women," and always tells me in her thick accent, "Lindy, you done good." When she comes home, our ritual is watching "The Golden Girls" together. She is totally Sofia.

For DWP this morning, I rewrote the classic Chicken Little story from an urban, Ebonics point of view. Yo, the sky be fallin.

I am looking forward to the Suh-Lam and the fab BrontoRen!

I'm out.

(But not down.)

What it Would Be Like Married to Me

Apologies to everyone who called this weekend and heard no response from me. L & L, I hope Jones Street was totally gay. We would still love to go again. Anarcia, thank you for the invite to Sioux Falls. I hope you had a lovely dinner.

I've been down and out. And disappointed. And just wanted to get away from Vermillion, so Bridge and I headed west. A little antique browsing, a movie, goodwill shopping, an art opening by the ultra talented artist. After the show, Happy Hour over in Gayville at S and J's hip pad.

We rolled back into town on Saturday evening, fell into bed, and didn't wake until Sunday morning. I've been staving off a migraine. And I think I am winning.

In case you get the wrong impression of me--in case I seem like a brute and a control freak and bound by rules--here's what it would be like married to me:

I would put you on my health insurance because I am able to do so.
I would mow the lawn and clean the bathroom.
I would cook dinner at least 3 nights a week.
I would plant perennials with your mother and keep my mouth shut when your father talks politics.
I would move across states with you.
I would want to have kids with you.
I would let you know how much you inspire me every day.
I would support you because I got lucky and have a job that allows me to do so.
I would dig a soil plot so you can have a garden.
I would get rid of all the spiders.

Please don't get me wrong. I am flawed in many, many ways. I have a temper I am not proud of, and I am cowardly in a nearly unforgivable way. But, if I married you, this is what it would be like.

How I Talk to the Girls

Dear Bridget,

Why do we have four toothburshes in the toothbrush holder? Only one is mine. Or, maybe what I'm really asking is: why do you own three toothbrushes?

Yours,



****************************

Dear Klondike Katie,

I am terrible. I loved the Johnny Cash e-mail you sent me, and meant to write back right away. That was probably two weeks ago, yeah? Anyways, how are you doing? Are you back from the field? I think maybe you are back in Fairbanks. I give my DWP demo today (it's still June, sweetie, sorry) and am nervous. I am going to tell everyone to play solitaire during mine. Then, tu madre is taking me and Bridge out to lunch at Viejo! Maybe I'll order a margarita. Or maybe I can get your mom to take tequila shots with me.

I mowed last night because I am obsessed with the lawn, as I am sure Bridge told you. We sure could use some rain--that shrub rose is looking pretty sorry. Max, the neighbor, says not to worry. Sure, he's got county-fair winning roses. I've got dead, burnt leaves.

Happy first day of summer! It's 90 here today. Now the days get shorter. My dad says, "it'll be winter before we know it." Thanks a lot, Mike.

So, have you two decided on Bela Fleck or the Indigo Girls? I would go with Amy and what's-her-name. Seriously, you are gonna need to hit that up. Like shooting fish in a barrel, kid.

Bridget got me a funny shirt at Old Navy, but she didn't quite get the message. Did she tell you about it? It has to do with a mountain lion ...

Anyways, sorry that I am so lame; I'll be better. Promise.
Hope you are doing well. Soon, you will bombarded with family, won't you? Oy.

Love ya, Kate!

Father's Day Extravaganza, 2007!

My weekend in Fargo.

Saturday evening, we dragged out the lawn darts, or as us old-timers call them, Jarts! We were all a little rusty, and realized why, indeed, lawn darts are banned in the US.

My Mom tossing some Jarts:



My brother and brother-in-law conferring on a throw:



We all played a few games, getting warmed up for the big tourney. My pre-season was poor.

My sister beat me at Jarts:



My dad beat me at Jarts:



Charlie Brown did not beat me at Jarts because he was too busy with his rawhide:



So, in the Jart tournament, I was the #7 seed. There were only 7 people playing. I had to beat my bro-in-law, which I handily did. Then I faced my dad. We went back in forth and I ended up beating him 30-28. Sucka! And, for all the glory, I met up with my sister for the second year in a row. Last year, we met in the championship round at the Lake Ashta Beulah tourney, and she beat me. I was hungry for a win.

I smoked her:



The #7 seed took all, fools:



And then on Sunday, we spent all day the Fargo Airsho. It was one hundred freakin' degrees. Hey, freedom isn't free, right?

The Blue Angels:

Thirsty Thursday

It's the last day of DWP this week and I am wearing a t-shirt that is probably too tight for me.

Last evening on my bike ride, there was this dude coming towards me. We were both coming up on oppostite sides of a high spot, but he was really pumping away. I thought, "that's weird. I must be getting in better shape because I don't have to stand and pedal to get up over this." Then when we both reached the crest, I saw his bike. It was the smallest bike I had ever seen. Seriously, it was probably a foot and a half off the ground. When he saw me staring at him, he jumped (more like stepped) off his ride and just walked it for awhile. He had to bend at the waist to walk it. And he wasn't even a CPJ kid, I don't think.

So, I get down a block further and this cute kid, probably about 10, asks me, "Hey, did you see that guy on that bike?"
"That little one? Yeah. He a friend of yours?"
"Nah. That's just a little bike. A mini-bike."
"Totally."

Then we both continued on our rides.

I am going away this weekend to see some military hijinks. Well, actually, my Moms and Pops are crossing NoDak, and I am crossing SoDak to all meet in Fargo (where brother and sister are) for a Father's Day extravaganza! We're going to watch a Navy aerial squad make their jets do awesomely patriotics things. I haven't seen everyone for a couple months, so it will be good. Bridge is going to Madtown. I will probably miss her.

Have to go.

Bye bye please.

Exclusive!

BrontoJem sat down with me the other evening to talk about her life, loves, and how that darn Hy-Vee has overcharged her cherries once again.

LO: Marcia, are you aware it's about a vermillion degrees in here right now?
MK: Why, yes. This sweat behind my knees and under my bracelets are letting me know I am melting.

LO: Interesting. Let's switch gears. Let's talk about your father issues.
MK: OK. What issues would those be? The abandonment? The fact that I can no longer drink alcohol but do anyways, because I have to deal with my father issues? Or the fact that I'm now a dyke because I didn't have a father?

LO: Yes, I, too, blame your father for your extreme homosexuality. Another important question. How do you that faux hawk thing with your hair?
MK: Well, as you may have noticed, I don't have bangs, but I have short front hair. I twist it, pin it back, and say a prayer. It's pretty good (laughing)! I learned this when I was in Ireland. Have I ever mentioned Ireland--

LO: Yes, yes. Moving on. Where would you like to eat tomorrow?
MK: Probably Cherry Street Grille. That's really the only place I eat. Ever. Wait. Do you mean for supper or lunch? Yeah, Cherry Street Grille. Wait. Are you asking me out?

LO: Maybe. And let's follow that up. What do you find most hot about me?
MK: I think it's how patriotic you are--
LO: These colors don't run.
MK: --and I always love how you sing Toby Keith at karaoke.

LO: You're a real charmer! How would you describe your relationship with BrontoRen?
MK: Greeks think before humans made the gods angry, we used to be connected in pairs (that's true, I read it in a book). They disconnected us to make us angry, walking around and searching for our soulmates. I found mine.

LO: You two really know how to make things romantic! One final question. Our readers want to know: is that a home perm?
MK: Just on my eyebrows.

MK's wardrobe by Gordman's. MK's hair by Suave.

Because I Should Update, Fool

What's Wrong with the World:

Nothing.

Because Marcia, with Annie & sister Charity in tow, came over last night and made homemade knoephla soup! We ate on the picnic table and dipped baguettes into bowls of delicious dumplings. Afterwards, Bridge built a small fire, Berkowitz stopped over, and all attempted to make the perfect smore.

And, I am in day 3 of the Dakota Writing Project and lovin' it, baby.

And, and, I got 6 miles in on the bike yesterday.

What's Wrong with My Body (Besides the Obvious):

Lots.

While weeding the lawn on Monday evening, some insect bit the corner of my eye, and now my left eyelid is swollen. I choose to believe this makes me look sultry, and that I am "puttin on my bedroom eyes," but I am pretty sure I look like a stroke victim.

Again, while weeding, I may have been elbow-deep in poison ivy. Developments to come.

My left index finger may be broken, but that is not related to weeding. And I have no other medical proof besides "it hurts."

One more personal thing. (It's my blog and I can write what I want to.) While disrobing for bed last night, I glanced down and noticed I have two identical insect bites on the tops of my bazoongas.

Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?

What's Wrong with My Lawn:

Nothing anymore!

I spent Monday and Tuesday evening mowing and weeding (obvi). I also sawed off huge, droopy, branches from the ginormous Maple in the front yard. For awhile, I resigned myself to my shady, leafy, overgrown frontyard. I thought it was charming, like a bungalow Hemingway may like to write in, like Ethan Allen could come film a furniture commercial on my front stoop.

Now, though, it's clean and sun-dappled and my new favorite place. I trimmed up the peonies and planted a shrub rose bush.

What's Wrong with My Writing:

I'm not cool enough for McSweeney's Lists.