The Napkin Diaries

Husband and I traveled to Greenwood, SC last weekend to see our friends Emily & Michael that recently moved there. [We miss them dearly and secretly hope they come back to Charleston. Immediately.]

On our 3 hour trek to what seemed to be the middle of nowhere, we got a little stir crazy. GPS took us through some Podunk town called Saluda. The only thing is Saluda was a rape van...
As soon as Husband and I saw the rape van parked in someone's front yard with a big "for sale" sign stuck to the front windown, we both, in unison, proclaimed "Hey, we could buy that rape van!" Then we looked at each other, furrowed our brows and grunted. Does that mean we have to buy it then??

So after driving through miles of nothing, we eventually were spit out into the middle of Greenwood. Who knew? We got the grand tour of their new home and then they left. Michael the denist got called in to work for a few minutes, so they both had to leave as soon as we got in. We didn't mind... there was beer in the fridge. So Husband and I crack open some beers and head to the back porch. Of course I had to have a coozie for my beer... it's only right. I gave them away as favors at my own wedding for Christ's sake. I have to have a coozie. So I take it upon myself to rummage through every drawer in the kitchen in search of the perfect coozie. And wouldn't you know it? They actually have a whole drawer devoted to coozies. Hooray! So I rummage... and I dig all the way to the back because I could see a bottle coozie in hot pink. Oh that shit is MINE. So I grab it, and cock my head at it because it actually reads:

Now this coozie is right up my ally! Emily hadn't even used it though! There was still a little piece of styrofoam inside. I figured she wouldn't mind if I broke it in for her. I told Husband it was probably a gag gift from someone because that just wasn't an Emily-type of coozie [read: Emily is classy. Me, not so much.]

They arrived back home in no time and came to find us enjoying their beer on their back porch. Hey, you don't have to tell us twice to make ourselves at home.

I proudly showed Emily the ridiculous coozie I pulled from her coozie drawer and she doubled over in hysterical laughter. Whaaaat??

"I BOUGHT THAT FOR YOU!!!" Bahahahahaha!!!

Oh.my.god. I cracked up. So basically, I dug through her 25+ coozies, scouted out the most ridiculously tacky one I could find, claimed it as my own and then I was told it was actually purchased for me because I'm THAT TACKY. Ha. And how appropriate is it that I would find the dumbest coozie in the whole bunch.

I used that tacky shit all over town and proudly displayed my hot pink beer holder to everyone who would glance my way.

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful, hate me because your boyfriend thinks so!

because i am such a good girlfriend, i went with dave to lexington, north carolina this past weekend so he could take an emt refresher course. i was there for moral support and entertainment. he booked a room at the comfort suites for like $93 a night. this would lead most people to believe you will be staying in a decent hotel. well, sike. this place was grunge city. we got there around midnight thursday night and we parked the car. of course we just happened to pick the parking spot right in front of the room with the half naked obese man standing in the doorway watching us while scratching his fat hairy belly. eww. wtf. dave's like "um, go to the room and i'll come back later." so we went up the stairs. luckily our "suite" was on an inside hallway. we have issues with doors that open straight to the outside. we're prissy, whatever.
so we get on our hallway, and it smells like indian people and clorox. we get to our room, open the door, and again are completely smacked in the face with that inviting scent. and it felt musky. grooooss. i seriously avoided touching the floor at all costs. i refused to sit on the comforter and would only sit on the sheets if i had to. the little table was dingy and there was no way in hell i was sitting my pretty ass on the couch. and i really do think they had a video camera above the shower in the bathroom. i was completed creeped out. then i got to sit there all day by myself friday while dave was in class. ugh. i had planned to go work out at the gym or lay by the pool, but you know, based on who we were greeted by thursday night...i chose life. i only got up to look out the peephole twice. you know, just to make sure or whatever.
i refused to sit in the room on saturday and since check out time was 11 and dave wouldn't be done until later than that, there was no way i was going to just hang out in the lobby or something by myself. no effing way. so i came to emt class and played tetris on dave's phone for about 5 hours. we got there at 8:30 and we had to sit there until 1:00 so everyone could do their little hands on tests. omg, people are dumb, by the way. i mean, the accents that these bitches had was unreal. hick as shit. and so annoying. kinda makes me worry that it will be these people who pick my ass up in the ambulance the day i crack my skull or something. not real comforting. kinda like the hotel... not comforting at all.
so dave got an a because he's smart and we finally got to leave skeezeville. yuck. so my advice to you is this: do not go to lexington, nc. all you will find is sketchy hotels, a duracell battery factory and a restaurant called biscuitville.

we had this massive family reunion at the beach last week. my mom's side of the family, minus her alcoholic brother and 98 year old grandmother all made it down from deleware or raleigh to carolina beach, north carolina. we stayed in this friggin mansion of a place called skipper's crew. even clicking on the link doesn't really do it justice... but needless to say, it was the mother effing bomb.
so dave and i drove up there tuesday night when i got out of class. which meant we were driving in the middle of the damn night. we began our 4.5 hour/310 mile journey at 10:30 pm. idiots. i drove. well everything was cool or whatever until we get on this road named "74" or "76" it was both. whatever. probably because it was uber sketchy. first, we were the only car on the road. period. and it was all foggy and creepy as shit. and dark. we thought we might run over wombats. don't ask. so we pass this huge field filled with life-size figurines of like yogi bear and betty boop. what? i mean, are they serious? two questions came to mind: (1) who the fuck lives out here to put this shit here and (2) who would drive all the way the fuck out here to purchase this shit? wtf. i almost ran off the road. seriously. so weird.
next, a few miles up, we pass the only house on the road that is across the street from the only towing company. the house had a minimun of 20 cars parked in front. you know those canibals throw down spike strips, or as i referred to them - spokes - and made cars like me wreck and then then capture the passengers, kill them, eat their brains and keep their damn cars. crazy bastards. and they use the tow truck in case there is a struggle of sorts. you know it's true. go watch the hills have eyes or wolf creek. it happens, man.
then we passed the strip club a few miles after that. a little puple shack that said something like "wanda's exotic dancing." well, apparently wanda was allowing illegal sex acts and drug participation to occur with her customers and exotic dancers because we saw the little purple hut later that week on the local news being raided by the cops. they took those hookers to jail. crazy hookers.
and a few miles after that we thought we were possibly being attacked. there was this flashing strobe-like light flashing so brightly that i thought it might be god. or a ufo. unfortunately, it was nothing that interesting, just some skeezy antenna with a strobe light affixed to the top. i nearly ran off the road again. i thought it was jesus, man. you'd run off the road too. then i thought it might be the the crazy canibals and got all flustered and i had to turn the air up because i started sweating. and we still had a good two hours to go...
lucky for us, nothing else creepy happened and we were soon done with the road from hell. for entertainment purposes, we chose to speak like pee wee herman and scream nonsense such as "giant underpants!" it never got old. mostly because we were delirious.
we finally got to the house at 3:00 am. whereupon we had to take the motherfucking elevator to our floor. that's how sweet this place was... we had an elevator. be jealous. and as the elevator doors opened for the first time, i was greeted by the sweet sweet saying of "its five o'clock somewhere" in what appeared to be my handwriting on some cute little artsy fartsy sign. foreshadowing at it's finest.
we were awaken the next morning to aunt barbie and aunt janice staring at dave and i saying "oooh he's cute." poor dave. i warned him though. he knew the murphy side was nuts. dave slept most of the day, i got sunburnt and rode some gnarley waves on my boogie board. when i came in later, famished and crispy, dad informed me that my car had been attacked. by mother fucking ants. oh hell no. apparently dave left a tasty coke can in the car and the bastards found it. all 8 billion of them. seriously, every single ant that was at carolina beach was on my car that day. gross. we eventually bought ant killer and sprayed the bitches to death. now everytime i get in my car i get a little high from the lingering fumes. again, gross. and there are little dead ant bodies on my dash and console because i have yet to vacuum. gross.
that night, we got waaaaasted. my cousin david went to pick up his way awesome girlfriend, loren, from the airport that night and they were supposed to be back around 9:00. well the doorbell rang around 9:00, so me, my dave and michael got on the elevator with our whiskey and rode the bitch down. however, it was not david and loren to greet us. it was this poor confused delivery girl. we invited her to ride the elevator with us to find out who ordered food. someone on the first floor did. so at least she came to the right house. i know she thought we were insane. i mean, we were, we were all sunburned and drunk. and we had a stool in the elevator incase anyone got too drunk and had to sit down while riding. dave took advantage of this.

loren and david finally arrived. and we continued our drunkfest. we were supposed to not cuss because my little cousin david (yes, another one -- there were 4 daves total this week) was on the couch next to us in the kitchen. that kid heard every word under the sun that night. and we'd always sssssshhh each other after we said 'fuck' or something, which only exaggerated the fact that we said fuck. eh well. at least he won't be naive...
so at some random moment, david the big cousin got on the elevator. when the elevator came back up, it was empty. it completely baffled us that no one was there... remember, we were really drunk and apparently forgot to remember that there were two other floors in which david could have gone on. whatever. so loren and i get on the elevator. i pull the stool over because i know i am way too wasted to actually stand while riding this machine. we go down to the first floor where some of the cousins and aunts are... i peek my head out of the doors and i'm basically cracking up and loren tells me in the loud drunk whisper to "be quiet and they won't see me" what? does that even make sense. either way, we didn't speak to anyone that saw us and just shut the doors and went back upstairs. david eventually returned from his adventure.
later, i wanted to suggest that we send things to different floors via the elevator. you'd think we'd never seen a damned elevator the way we wanted to play with it. so okay, there was this gigantic silver statue in the corned of the cute blue and yellow beachy living room... of a mother effing bald eagle. really? wtf. this thing had a wing span the legnth of at least one of my arms and had to weigh at least 695 pounds. an estimate, of course, but definitely something like that. between being so drunk i had to sit down for the elevator ride and not being able to control the volume of my voice, i concluded that attempting to move the laquered beast statue may prove to be a very unwise decision. the bird continued to stare at us for the remainder of the night from its creepy little corner. i never got to let it ride in the elevator. poor bird.
the rest of the week we didn't drink nearly as much, but instead spent most of our time fighting the waves on our wicked boards. i got pretty beat up a few times by the sand and my boobs fell out once, i think it was overall unsuccessful, but it was really fun to act like i was 7 years old. oooh and i got to eat like 2 pounds of freakin crab legs. if i had to replace sex with one thing, it would be crab legs. actually, i might take that back. because i mean, i like sex, and crab legs are nothing like it, however they are equally as good, well almost, on a totally different playing field. whatever, the damned crustation was good. that's all i'm trying to say. gah.
we only got to stay through friday, but it was super fun to see my crazy family and let them all meet dave. i think there was a total of 22 of us in the house. i mean, the bitch could sleep like 25, had 8 bedrooms, 8 bathrooms, 3 decks, a pool, an elevator and a wicked awesome platinum eagle. what more could you ask for? and it was ocean front. we win.

This weekend I was in Raleigh for my cousin Katie's wedding. Her and Wade were getting married on Saturday. My family got to the Hilton hotel Friday night around 7:30, where we immediately began drinking. Something about traveling just makes us crazy. So me, Michael, Jen and Pete (the newlyweds), and Dave and Loren got hammered. Ha. We ended up at Denny's at midnight and we stuffed ourselves retarded just about. I ended up having creepy crazy dreams about this weird midget ugly ass guy in a green and white striped collared shirt with acid wash jeans on. He was standing in the middle of mine and Michael's beds in our hotel room just lookin at me. And he had insanely huge teeth. Ewwww. And I woke up, but it took my eyes a few seconds to adjust so like I could still see the image of the creepy midget man at the end of the bed. Gave me the heebee jeebees.
Saturday at 2:00, Wade and Katie became Mr. and Mrs. Hendrick. Pretty wedding. Katie looked gorgeous. We all made a mad dash for the reception back at the Hilton. It took Katie all of 47 minutes to get plastered. Aunt Sharon apparently had refused to feed Katie all day, and she's a little girl, so basically she got loaded and then got completely out of control. At first, the DJ was horrid. He played "No More I Love Yous" as the bridal party was walking in... because that makes sense. Way to set the scene for the next 50 years of their lives. Moron. He kinda looked like a fat Ben Stein. And was a complete cornball. Then he started playing his crazy violin and attempted to turn the place into some kind of ho-down. We finally told him, after about the 5th Boys II Men song, that he better change the song line up or we might have to kick his doofus ass. He did... but he ended up playing Real McCoy, Quad City DJs, and Ace of Base. I shit you not. And we actually did the train around the entire room while "Come on Ride the Train" was on. I was slightly uncomfortable because I was sort of supposed to latch onto Wade's dad, who used to/is some crazy CIA man. And plus, its just weird to touch any Dad's waist. Even though it was goofy 90s pop music, it allowed for the Cononie Shake however, so all were satisfied. I had to call Joe after "I Saw the Sign" was played. I couldn't take it anymore. Someone had to know just how ridiuculous this night really was.
So okay, we were all dancing, singing, sloshing our Coronas around, when we all kind of backed off and just watched in horror/shock as Katie went buck wild. You know what people look like when they are swatting bees above their heads? Yeah, Katie looked like that, but add that in with some weird hip swivelling and a big poofy wedding gown, a glass of wine in hand with the deathgrip to ensure it stays in place, and some "wooooooos" for vocal effect. Holygod it was too funny. Then after flailing her arms for a few moments, she'd bend herself in half, touch the floor, and pull her dress up on the way back to her upright position. Then she'd run around and rub her dress on the nearest 3 people, put it back down, flail about, then do some kicks, like the Russian Dance kicks.... in a wedding dress. Then she would add in a split or two, but always threw her hands in the air for someone to help stand her up. Repeat this 86 times for full effect.
Then came time for the throwing of the bouquet and garter. Jesus. First, her gay friend Jarred stood with the girls while she threw her flowers, then he also stood with the guys as Wade threw the garter. Let me first tell you about the garter removal experience. I actually had to look away it was so umm, tacky. Like really, Katie hiked her skirt up so high that we basically got a peepshow of her downstairs, she flailed around while sitting in the chair, then Wade used his teeth to pull the bitch off. He like licked her leg all the way down. I looked away around the time his tongue reached her kneecap.
Then Jarred had to put the garter on Stephanie who had caught the bouquet. Jarred also used his little gay teeth to apply the tainted garter to her leg. And um, her legs aren't exactly cute and small and dainty. We basically got to see Stephanie's downstairs too, since Jarred shoved the damn thing up as far as it would fit. Oh joy.
So needless to say, it was actually a hell of a good time for what started off as a lame reception. Around 9:30, me, Michael, Jen, Pete, Dave and Loren went swimming with about 22 beers (18 beers that each of us probably consumed at the wedding, plus a good 4 more for each while in the pool). Smart, I know. Really ridiculously fun though. We would sit in the hot tub, get grossly hot and then cannon ball into the pool and throw the life raft to each other or use the big stick to scoop each other out. It was only a 5 foot pool, but there were a few times I swore there was a bottomless pit beneath me. My ribs and abs actually hurt from running around and doing relay races in the frickin pool last night. Yeah, we acted like a bunch of 11 year olds and it was damn fun damnit.
So yay for really fun drunk weddings and the fun drunk events that follow.

Downtown with Kevin and Nicole: doesn't it sound like it could be a talkshow or some crazy reality TV shit? It should be. We drink Woodchuck and have re-donk-ulous amounts of fun. And have random excursions with cops, huge ass football beasts, untamed water hydrants and drunken downtown mobs. I'd watch it if it came on TV....
so yeah... Kevin and I were downtown dates tonight - very fun! We got to talk and hang out more than we ever really have before, and I must admit, I'm a big fan of the Mr. Kevin Jennings. Everything was pretty normal for the downtown scene, except for the crazy cops! Gah. Go home, bitches. They were lookin' for something to do tonight obviously. So Officer Meyers (1) had on creepy black, fingers-cut-out-of-the-ends-type gloves on tonight; like the ones hardcore steroid-taking, iron-pumping meathead dudes wear, or also the kind of gloves that maniac bikers wear, and (2) the goof has braces. My theory is that he wanted to balance himself out and wear the gloves to take away from the silly fact that he is a middle-aged goofball with braces. Ha.
Then we decided we needed to explore the suburbs of Clemson to find our way back to highway 93. We almost could have possibly really gotten lost. But we didn't. Kevin got lucky on a couple of turns and we managed... to find ourselves on 93 with a crazy fire hydrant busted. No shit. And it was freakin HA-larious. We were all mid-seriousish convo and we both see this crazy burst of water drowning the earth and we swore it was also out to land directly on our car. Really, had we had the windows down, we would have be swimming all the way home. Then these crazy football ninjas almost ran into Kevin's car. I would have been more concerned had we not just been witnesses of the mammoth water spout in the middle of Clemson. I cracked up until we got to about Hardee's where I had to stop and breathe for a moment. And after a couple of rounds of Woodchuck and Bud, mammoth water spouts at 2:00 are about the funniest event life can offer.
So thank you, Kevin, for the way fun night; and also for being real with me and for looking out for me. I appreciate your honesty and I'm so thankful for your friendship. You definitely rock to the max.

This blog is basically for Jayson, and also for Joe too since I retold the entire evening to him when I can stumbling into his apartment at 2:00 in the morning. So Tuesday night was absolutely insanely funny. We went to crazy karaoke (duh) where the first act that we paid attention to was the deaf guy. Really. A deaf guy who sings karaoke. Which I mean, its honorable - you gotta give him credit for trying. But I think one try is enough. As Joe said it, "once i heard a cat get run over and it sounded better than that." I don't really think he did hear a cat get run over, but you could imagine... and I don't mean to be mean, I really don't - I give the guy credit for trying, but I really wish he would take up marathon running, for instance. He'd be good at that...
so then Joe had to leave us. Way sad, because he is becoming my new hip ornament and I have a hard time functioning without him next to me. So it was just me and Jayson. Which really seriously was the funniest night in like all of karaoke history. First, we started doing the sketchy dance. The point your finger, thrust your hips, lick your lips, and stare too long at one person dance. We then resorted to the horrible Elaine (from Seinfeld) dance. Holy shit that was funny shit. Like imagine a normal rap bass beat, and then bend your knees, thrash about and snap on separate sporadic occasions while adding weird pelvic thrusts in awkward directions with no sensible rhythm while remembering to not stay in any kind of sync with the original beat given to you. Believe me, you will laugh, and everyone will laugh at you. And what is sad is that I know of at least two people who dance in this fashion. God help them.
After being sketchy dancers (hold me closer tiny daaaancer), Jayson and I shimmied our way to the front of the bar so as to catch a "better" view of the stage. If by better, you mean funky nacho smelling area with creepy staring guy and glittery shirt hobag. Mmmm, I love the "better" view already. So yeah, me and Jayson were minding our own business making fun of everyone else in the bar, when all of a sudden Jayson gets this revolting look on his face and proceeds to flare his nostrels, furrow his brow, curl his lip and scream "what the fuck?!! do you smell that?! what is that?!" I almost fell out of my chair laughing. I was like "Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?" He then morphed into psycho sniffer and sniffed everything within a 10 foot radius... including me. So I sniffed back.... whatever, so we thought it was nasty glitter hobag girl that smelled like funky nachos. But when she came closer, we realized it was not her but rather, disgustingly obese sweaty arms-cut-off-shirt guy. Like, so sweaty he had the sweat marks from his neck to his large belly area as well as the sweaty back look. Yeah, I threw up a little in my mouth. I mean, I've heard of people who sweat out beer, but to sweat out nachos?! Come on?! Then that song that is like 'Just like Roonnnnnie said/be my little baby.../ take me home tonight,/ I don't want to let you go til I see the light" came on. And for whatever reason, it was so freakin funny. I mean think about it, sweaty nacho guy who is now dancing with glittery slutface girl (who was on the verge of doing the sketchy Elaine dance) with "take me home tonight" blaring in the background with some offkey doofus singing, makes for a really funny scenario. And then this weird guy in the yellow shirt kept staring at me. And like, not even a flirty smiley stare, just a blank creepy ewwww stare. I was like "Really, wtf?" So Jayson backed up and watched the dude walk by me. I kinda yelped and did the grunt I do and snarled a little. Who stares with no expression? Gross. So yeah, funny chain of events... If you don't think so, well then you suck. And you shouldn't read my blog anymore. Because damit, that shit is funny.
So after that, Jayson and I really couldn't take anymore. So we left. We went to Esso because we wanted to find Candle and get "Night at the Roxybury" on her ass -- you know, slam her back and forth between the two of us and bob our heads frantically to the side. Yeah, but when we go to Esso, no one was there except for the big scary bouncer man who was standing inside with his arms crossed behind the bar just shaking his head at us. We quickly left. So then creepy Manson stalker girl called Jayson for the 59th time and was like "I left you 17 messages telling you I was at Loose Change, gah, why aren't you here too?" So Jayson was like "Gah I swear she is the spawn of Jeffrey Dommer... well wait, I don't know why I said him instead of like Charles Manson since her last name is kind of Manson..." So we also decided Loose Change was a good idea because Beezers is next door to it. So we get in there, and like noshit, within 7 seconds so weird bug-eyed dude is like petting me, asking me about my lifestory and really I think he wanted to be in my skin he was standing so close to me. I kept giving Jayson the save me look, all he did in return was the sketchy bar guy act where he'd squint his eyes and lick his lips and point. Thanks Jayson. So yeah... we left and got some damn Beezers and god it was so good. With olives right, Jayson? Or wait, was that oil and vinegar? Ha. Moron.
So by 2:15ish I busted up in Joe's apartment, all crackin up, cussing out Mother Nature for raining on my drunkass and I proceeded to give him an instant replay of the night. I almost choked on Beezers like 9 times in the process of the storytelling time.
So thank you, Jayson, for entertaining the hell out of my ass. And I think we should do nachos with Ronnie again real soon...



and on a completely different side note:
My brother graduated from Hillcrest High School June 1st, 2005 with badass honors. I don't know how to spell exemplary so I chose to say badass instead. So congrats, bro -- you kick ass. And I love you and I cannot wait for you to be at Clemson with me in August!