Holy Crap! Two Days in a Row!

I know...shocking. But, I promised Christie that I would blog her wedding, so here it is. Well, part one at least.

Christie and Adrian's wedding. What can I say? It was one of the most fun weddings I have been to in a long time... that wasn't a family member's.

From the beginning though...

Friday, August 31, I flew on Southwest from Sacramento to Ontario. As Jami dropped me off at the airport, she not only told me to have fun, but also warned me to "not look like a terrorist." Ummm, OK. I zipped through (I think I'm stuck on the word zip, and it's suffixes) the check-in line and headed on up to wait for my flight. I was hungry, so I bought a pretzel that was way overpriced and not that good. Sat down at the gate and people watched for about an hour while detailing the people I was watching to Emily... along with complaining about life in general. Got on the plane, it was a really full flight and since I was in group A, I got a good aisle seat near the front of the plane. Everyone boarded and there was only one other person in my aisle of three and he was sitting at the window. "WOOHOO!" No person next to me. Of course, some slacker who clearly couldn't make the boarding on time jumps on the plane (she was the last person to board) and sits right next to me. DAMN!

Flight was OK. Nothing exciting, no panic attacks during take-off or landing or in-flight. Tried to play the "What's the stupidest thing in the Sky Mall catalog" game by myself, but it's no fun alone. Also tried to play the "pick out the air marshall" game, but I suck at that in general, so that was just as lame.

When we landed in Ontario, I got off the plane and went to the baggage claim. Right away, my cosmetics bag comes out on the carousel. I thought "Yay, I'll be outta here in a few minutes." Oh how wrong I was. Of course, the carousel breaks down, so Southwest off-loads all the bags at the cargo door. When all was said and done, my bag wasn't there. Neither were a few other peoples' bags. I was a little worried because of course, that was all my clothes, and I didn't think Christie would be happy with me if I showed up at the wedding in capris, a tank and flip flops. Although, that might have been kind of funny (you know you can laugh now Christie, the wedding is over).

Finally, the rest of the bags were found. They got stuck on the broken carousel. Whew! I grabbed my bag and after inspecting it to make sure there was no damage, headed outside to catch the shuttle bus to the car rental facility. The moment I stepped outside, I thought I was going to die. It had to have been 600 degrees. OK, maybe it was only 115, but it was miserable. Humid, hot and horrible. I called Summer and told her I was going home!

I get to Enterprise, where, thanks to Erika, I got a great deal on a rental car. I checked my map quested directions with the girl at the counter and headed out on the 80-mile or so drive to Palm Desert. Drove through Riverside, past a couple of Indian casinos (one of which, I *think* is part of the state referendum to overturn a new law... but that's a different story) and what do I see off to the right of me? A mile sign that says "Phoenix - 250 miles." HOLY CRAP! I was 250 miles from Phoenix, AZ. That's the closest I'd ever been. Of course, for normal people, that's nothing to write home about. Though I can see it now:

"Dear Mom,

Today, I drove past a road sign informing me that Phoenix, AZ was 250 miles away. It was very exciting.

Love,
Allie"

If I'd have thought of it, I would have stopped and taken a picture of it and attempted to take MY picture in front of the sign. I'm just that lame.

After no further diversions or stupid excitements (except for finding a drive-thru Starbucks) I made it to the hotel and checked in, where Alana had already checked into the room. I just have one question. In an area that is total desert, why is a hotel an OUTSIDE hotel? You'd think that the rooms would not open to Satan's lair and be enclosed and air conditioned. But fine. I got in the room and once I cooled off, unpacked and waited for Christie, Alana and Carrie to return from the rehearsal.

Since I didn't attend the rehearsal or the rehearsal dinner, I don't really have anything to say about that, so I'm going to leave that to someone who had been there.

After everyone returned from the rehearsal and dinner, we all met down at the pool where we hung out, until the security guards kicked us out because it was 11pm and apparently we were too loud. What do they expect? You gather 50 people around a pool drinking and swimming and of course it's going to be loud. We were probably half the residents of the hotel anyway.

Since recapping the whole weekend in one post would take forever and be the longest.post.ever., I'll leave you with to be continued...

Wow, I really suck at Blogging

I just realized that it's been over three months since I've blogged last. What can I say? I suck at it. I promise to try harder. What's been going on the past three months? Let start with end of August. Some lady hit my car while I was driving home from work. Totally broke off my drivers' side mirror and put tons of scratches and dents in the door. It's a good thing that I didn't have the top down or else my arm would have been on the door and probably would have gotten crushed. I was without my car for a whole week. I had a rental car, which was actually pretty cute. It was a Ford Focus. Quite zippy. Yes, I just said zippy. Took it to the dealer where the damage was originally estimated at $900. When all was said and done, it ended up costing AAA almost $1,400. Funniest thing about that accident... the woman that hit me. She was not so smart. So, she hits me, we exchange information and go home. The moment I walked in the door, I called my insurance company and filed the claim. I get a call the next day from my investigator and she can barely talk to me, she laughing so hard. Of course, now I want to know what's so funny about this accident. When she finally calms down enough to tell me about her conversation with the woman that hit me... let's call her "Mabel*," she tells me the whole story. Here is a reasonable recap of that conversation:

State Farm (SF): Hi, I'm calling about the accident you were involved in yesterday with one of my clients.
Mabel (M): Yes, I hit her while changing lanes. I just didn't see her.
SF: Have you notified your insurance company yet?
M: No, why would I do that?
SF: Because you hit another car.
M: But it was an accident. It's no one's fault.
SF: Umm, that's not how it works.
M: Really, why would I call my insurance company if it was an accident? Accidents are just that. Accidents.
SF: No, you really need to call your insurance company. You've admitted fault. You are responsible.
M: Fine, I'll call them, but I don't see why.

OK, now, I'm just wondering, does Mabel just drive down the street and DECIDE to hit someone on a given day? Is that what would cause her to call her insurance company? Does she just think to herself "oh, it's Monday, I think I'll hit a car today." No worries though, AAA (her insurance company) paid for all the damage and my zippy little rental. All is well... except for two days after I got it back, someone tried to break into the car by trying to pop the drivers' side door lock out. EFFER! There's much more to report, especially about Christie's wedding (but that's whole other post entirely) so, I'll do that a bit later. Again, I apologize for the large delay in postings, and I promise to do better.

*Name has been changed to protect the stupid

I know, I know, I know...I suck at consistantly blogging

So, I know I said that I was going to tell you how camping went. Most everyone by now knows, but I'll give a quick rundown just the same.

Saturday, when Annie and I arrived in Tahoe, Erika and her husband were already there. Annie and I got out of the car, walked to the ice chest and immediately started drinking. Can I just say, setting up tents and organizing a campsite is much more successful when you aren't drinking.

After Mel and her husband arrived, the fun began. Shots of Patron, Oatmeal cookie shots, Smirnoff Ices, beer, vodka/cranberry, etc. We didn't stop until we basically were either going to pass out or throw up...and some of us did (not me...for once).

Sunday morning, we got up and had breakfast. As I was sitting in my chair by the not-burning fire, a bug flew into my ear. Yes, a bug flew in my ear!! I could hear/feel it flying around and freaked out just a little bit. We poured water in my ear and took Q-Tips to my ear. I either drowned the little bastard or squashed it. I'm going with drowned it. It's less gross.

Annie and I came back to Sacramento Sunday night and had to work Monday and Tuesday. Tuesday, after work, I got in the car and drove BACK UP to the campground until Thursday.

The 4th of July was tons of fun. We went to the pool at Erika's timeshare and I went out on the jetski for the first time. Having never been on one before, I wasn't sure what to expect, so I went out with JD, Erika's husband. After a quick lesson, I was left on my own to travel the Lake. I stayed somewhat close and got it up to about 30 mph before I'd freakout a little at the speed and think I was going to fall off. I was out in the water far enough to see the burn zone from the Angora Fire the week before. It's so horrible.

That night, we went to the timeshare again to sit out on the deck to watch the fireworks. I swear, everyone else on the deck hated us. We could not stop laughing. The fireworks set off were happy faces, stars, hearts and your regular round ones. What was making us laugh was that the hearts and happy faces were upside down. I honestly don't know why we found that so funny.

I had to come home again on Thursday, but only after more hanging out at the pool/beach and at the campsite.

In all, I had a really great time, and for those of you who doubted me (DREW), a bear did not eat me, I was not a total wussy girl and I will go camping again.

Allie v. The Bear

I'm just getting ready to go meet some friends up in Lake Tahoe and camp until tomorrow. I'm going back on Tuesday after work and staying until Thursday. I haven't camped in about 12 years or so. I was talking to a friend last week and told him that I was going camping. Now this friend is a big bad Marine, so his idea of camping and my idea of camping are two VERY different things. Here's the email he sent me:

"For Allie:

How to avoid being eaten by bears and/or other large animals while camping:

1) Lose weight before you go camping. You will be better able to outrun predators and the chubbier you are the more yummy you look to a hungry bear.

2) Don't bring food into your tent and then fall asleep while eating. The only thing yummier than a chubby girl in the woods is a chubby girl in the woods with cheeto residue on her hands.

3) You are a girl - camp like a girl. Don't camp in the middle of the woods where you are likely to be mauled by an animal. Camp in a campsite, in a well populated area. Do the kind of camping I have to put quotes around. I camp...you "camp".

4) When trying to survive an animal attack here is the most important thing you need to know...you don't have to be faster than the bear, you only have to be faster than the person next to you. Bring an old, fat, out of shape, cripple with you and you can sleep soundly knowing they will be bear chow.

I could go into how you should play dead with a bear - let them bat you around a little till they lose interest. I could warn you about their instincts when protecting a cub. I could go into great detail about how you could be savagely attacked but would still be able to survive. Frankly, you just don't strike me as the kind of girl that would barely excape with your life. You strike me as the type of girl that would see a bear (one with no intentions of ever coming near you), piss yourself, run away, trip and break your neck.

Good luck with that."

My friends have no faith in me.

If I survive (in the middle of Lake Tahoe with the Safeway about a half mile from the campground), I'll report back when I get home tomorrow.

Softball

I play softball on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I've played with the Thursday team for the past year, so we all know each other pretty well and we all know how each other plays. Tonight however, someone other than me showed up to the game. No offense to any girls out there, but I really played like a girl. It's super slow pitch. I should not play badly.

Let me recap for you:

First at bat: I struck out....looking. Yes, I said looking.
Second at bat: Debatable. I hit it up the middle and touched first before I heard the ball land in the first baseman's glove. The umpire called me out. He is no longer my friend.
Third at bat: Line drive into right field. Safe on first.

I played second base and made some pretty good plays at the bag, but no matter how well we did on the field, we just couldn't make up for the 7 run deficit that we fell into in the first inning. We lost. Something like 17 or 18 to 7 or 8.

It was only the first game back in three weeks, so I'm not worried.

Oh, I also pulled a muscle in my butt.

Dear Emily:

Are you happy now? I've posted something new. It may not be interesting or witty, but I didn't want you reminding me (yet again) that I hadn't posted on the blog in a while. You can no longer compare me to Kris...who by the way, hasn't blogged since April.

I talk to you everyday, so it's not like you need to read this to be kept up on all my life altering events.

So, I hope this satisfies you for the time being. If not, start walking. I'll still be here in four months.

Love,
Allie

My Brother

Most of you have heard me talk about my younger brother. He's 26 and lives in Hawaii. At least until August. Then he and his girlfriend are moving back to Sacramento. He says he wants a "big boy job" and his girlfriend wants to go back to school.

My brother is my best friend. I am his biggest supporter and fan. His sense of humor is second to none. The kid is so quick and witty, you can't help but laugh at him.

The other day, I received an email from my friend Roseanne who lives in Beijing, China. She mentioned to me that she loved my headline on my myspace page. I was a little confused since I hadn't changed my headline in a month or so, so I asked her what it said. She responded with "it says 'I like clowns alot.' " Now, for those of you who don't know, I am terrified of clowns. But that's a story for another post...all I'll say about it right now is that it's my dad's fault. So, anyway, I told her that I didn't write that and was a bit baffled at who could have gotten onto my page and changed it. Then I realized that it was my brother. What a little jerk!

I told Roseanne that it must have been Scotty and she laughed and said that it sounds like him and she should have known.

I called him later that evening and when he answered, after calling him a few choice names, I asked him when he changed it and how he got into my account. He said that he changed it when he was here in April visiting and I had left it open on my computer at home. Then laughed at me for taking a month to figure it out.

I'm actually still laughing about that one and as much as I try and convince him of it, he was not left on the front steps of the police department one hot august day in 1980 and brought home by my dad to be adopted.

Starbucks

I have a problem. I'm addicted to Starbucks. Everyday last week, I was there on my way to work. Well, except for Thursday and that's only because there was nowhere to park and I was too lazy to circle the block looking for a spot.

The Starbucks that I go to caters to all the mid-town and downtown residents and employees. I constantly run into people I know who work at the Capitol or for other Agencies in the area and I like it that way. It gives me a chance to say hello to people that normally I only see when I have something work-related to see them about.

The Barristas at my Starbucks are starting to know me and already know that I've switched from my "winter drink" (a grande nonfat decaf peppermint mocha) to my "summer drink" (a venti peppermint mocha light frappuccino) and are starting to learn my name. They still can't spell it right, but fine, as long as they get the drink right, I don't care.

Everyone knows how Starbucks works. It's sort of like the Soup Nazi. You get there, you get in line, you know what you want, you order it, you move on. Nothing fancy, nothing difficult. EVERYONE knows this. Well, almost everyone.

Friday, I get to Starbucks and there's a line almost out the door. I think, fine, no problem, it goes fast. Oh, how wrong I was. These two women in front of me - I could swear have never been into a Starbucks in their lives - are standing there staring at the menu above the counter. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Finally, what seemed like 12 hours later, the first lady decides to order an grande Americano. Now, correct me if I am wrong but isn't that just A REGULAR CUP OF COFFEE???? Seriously lady, it took you 15 minutes to decide you wanted a REGULAR cup of coffee? Oh.My.God.

So, lady number two gets up there and still doesn't know what she wants. By this time, the people behind me are just as annoyed as I am and the cashier could tell, so he says to the lady "maybe you could let people behind you order since you are still deciding." So fine, we finally get to order and about 10 people went and ordered before this lady had decided. I even got my drink and left and she was STILL deciding. I actually thought about stalling and hanging around to see what she finally ordered, but after standing in line for at least 20 minutes, I had to get to the office.

So, the lessons to be learned from this rant:

1) It's Starbucks. They serve coffee and coffee drinks. It's not hard to decide what you want
2) Try looking at the menu while you are standing in line.
3) If you're going to order a regular coffee, just order it. Don't spend 15 minutes deciding on it. I could have made a pot of coffee in less time it took to stand there and order it. And I barely know how to make a pot of coffee...hence my need for Starbucks.
4) People who have nothing better to do in the morning than go to Starbucks and get a cup of coffee should wait until at least 9am when the people who stop on their way to work have already come and gone.

Attempt Number Eleventy Billion

OK, so here I go again. Another attempt at keeping a blog. It's actually quite amusing to me that I tend to write novels in emails to friends, yet I can't seem to find the time to type it all in a blog for you all to see.

When creating this blog, I tried to use names that I normally use for sign in names. Unfortunately, they were all taken (probably by me in previous attempts to blog) so I had to get a little creative (as if AllieGator is really creative) and come up with yet another name to call myself. By the way, if it's actually not me taking up all my names and random people out there have my names, who the heck are you to be using my names?? I want a list of all of you, what names you are using and why you think you are allowed to use those names. You know who you are...all you Lulibelles, Lulubelles, alowshses and alliewishes out there. Yeah, I'm comin' after YOU!

I really don't know what to tell you to expect from this other than my thoughts intermingled with observances and never without a little sarcasm. I really don't care if no one reads it or if every single person on the planet reads it (which would be kind of weird since I wouldn't think that ANYONE outside of my family and friends would ever think of reading it), but here it is, I hope you enjoy it and that at least one person (other than my mother) reads it.