Watercolor Lily

Although there is a lot more going on right now in my life (read as "work, work, work"), I am relaxing by playing with pictures. Thought I'd share one.

How are you?

Travel Journal Day 3 & Day 4

Here is an important life lesson. If you find yourself staying in a hotel alone, it is still not a good idea to take a shower with the bathroom door open. The deadbolt and metal arm lock will keep Anthony Perkins out, but the steam from the shower will actually set off the smoke detector in your room. At this point, you will be wet and naked trying to figure out what that awful noise is and then quickly decide what to do. Do you 1) run out into the hallway towards safety screaming "Fire!" or do you 2) forgo safety to dry yourself off and get dressed after quickly surveying your room to find no actual fire? I chose option 2. It was nice that the alarm only went off in my room.

Day three of my vacation was rather uneventful. When I got up, I packed up the car again and headed north this time to Park Rapids, Minnesota. The drive is around three and a half hours so I listened to quite a bit of music and got lost in thought. The day was overcast, so I didn't stop at any rest stops or wayside stations along the route. I only made one stop and that was for food in a city called Motley. Craving a butterscotch dip cone from Dairy Queen, I stopped where the Hot Eats & Cool Treats are advertised. The burger I had was decent and I do really like DQ's fries. Which is odd, since I rarely like French Fries.

I was going to get a cone before getting back on the road, but then these men came in. One of them gave me a double take with a slimy smile. While I appreciate the fact I was checked out, it somewhat frightened me because there was just something creepy about the smile.

So back on the road I went. I found the hotel and checked in. And surprisingly, I stayed in the hotel all night long until I checked out the next morning. I watched a little bit of "Planet Earth" and then a movie on my laptop. Not an overly exciting day.

The next morning, Thursday now for those keeping track, I drove 20 miles to Itasca State Park. Itasca State Park is the first state park for Minnesota and is the second largest. It boasts Lake Itasca, the source of the fourth longest river in the world, the Mississippi. I don't know what it is about the Mississippi, probably has something to do with the fact I've lived near it most of my life, but I am fascinated by it. As others who live near oceans feel a pull to the water, I feel comforted by the river. It's always there.

When I arrived at the park, I was looking for the north entrance. I passed the southern and eastern entrances to find the one closest to the headwaters, but never found it. When I was halfway to Bemidji, I turned around and entered the park at the east entrance. It was only $5 to get in (which is insanely cheap in my opinion. It cost $10 to look at the potholes in Wisconsin.) Once inside, I drove the main road to the headwaters. I was about two and a half hours early for the boat ride, which was a good thing as it turned out.

I meant to walk across the Mississippi's start. I would have, but there were 8,000 800 80 about 25 kids running around. It was enough to try and get a picture without some child in it screaming. I wanted to yell at this grandmother. Oh, she made me so mad. This little girl was running towards the shoreline, without shoes on, she'd been in the water up to her knees already, and her grandmother reached out and pulled her back by the hood of her sweatshirt. She pulled hard. The little girl started screaming in tears while her grandmother hushed her so she could take a picture. Grandmothers are not supposed to choke their grandchildren. Grandmas are supposed to be nice. This made me so mad. Besides choking the little girl, she just ignored her tears.

The headwaters are cool. I really liked seeing the source of the Mississippi - the lake is actually the source, but the headwaters are where the river becomes a stream. The scenery is beautiful and would be peaceful sans 8 million screaming children. (There will be 80 million tomorrow when I tell the story. Children multiply by annoyance factor.)

After spending about a half hour at the headwaters, I headed to the gift shop I picked up some postcards, a couple of flat rocks (for scrapbooking), and a magnet for myself. I also bought sunscreen. Which now has a permanent place in my camera bag. The only time I'm in the sun would be when I have my camera, so it is a logical location for it. I also purchased a few gifts for DM and one for my mom.

I still had some time before the boat tour, so I stopped at Peace Pipe Vista and walked the path to see a panoramic view of Lake Itasca. Along the path, I saw a big, icky spider that creeped me out. I took pictures of it. Surprise.

It was getting closer to the time of launch, so I headed to the boat tour pier. I parked by the lodge, as indicated on the website. Then I walked down to the dock. I should have driven all the way down, but I didn't realize there was parking at the dock.

While waiting for the ride to start, a nice woman named Ann started chatting with me. Her sister, Sherry, joined in. They were both recent grandmas and on vacation together without the rest of the family. When I boarded the boat, I sat in the back with them, overlooking the water. This lasted until the family from the headwaters appeared. It wasn't all of the kids from the headwaters (there must have been 3-4 families there), but this was the family that all the brothers and sisters decided to go on vacation together and bring each of their 3-4 kids. Argh! The kids wanted to sit in the back. Soon, the four chairs (three occupied by Ann, Sherry, and myself) were overrun with 9 children, three mothers, a grandmother, and two babies. Sherry, Ann, and I moved inside to "give them some room."

The tour is a two hour trip following the Schoolcraft journey to the headwaters of the Mississippi. There were a couple of bald eagle sightings, but both were on the side of the boat I wasn't on. Bummer. I did get to see the Minnesota state bird, the common loon. I may have a couple of pictures from the sighting worthwhile. We'll see when I finally go through them all.

The light kept fading as the sky grew darker. About the time we reached the headwaters, it was down pouring and everyone moved to the bottom deck of the boat. Soon, grape sized hailstones were falling to the bottom deck via the stairwells. The last hour of the trip was spent a bit scared and awed by Mother Nature. We saw lightning and heard loud thunder claps. There was a tornado watch for the area (watch is when conditions are right to produce a tornado, warning is when there has been one spotted).

The rain let up to a drizzle by the time we were back at the dock. Ann and Sherry were very nice and offered me a lift back to my car. While I know I should never accept a ride from strangers, I did accept. Another man joined us so that he could bring his vehicle back to his party. I was grateful for the lift and thanked the two women. I really enjoyed their company on the boat.

With the weather, I decided it was time to head home. In about 30 minutes, I was ahead of the storm and kept on going. James asked at karaoke why I didn't stop at a great little unknown restaurant on the way home and the answer was simple. I wanted to be back in the Cities before the rain was.

When I got home, I loaded pictures onto the computer and uploaded them to Flickr. Then it was off to karaoke with DM. By the time I got home from karaoke, I was exhausted and crashed.

I'm meeting DM and Keem at the Como Zoo conservatory in a little over an hour. Afterwards, we're going to my mom's for dinner and may see a movie tonight. DM is going to come over and scrapbook tonight and we're going to scrap all day tomorrow. On Sunday, we're going to drive to Minnehaha Falls in Minneapolis before karaoke.

Vacation has been nice so far. I was apprehensive about taking a trip by myself, but have really enjoyed it. I've done a lot of thinking and lot of relaxing. I can't remember a time when I felt so at ease.

One picture for you - the headwaters of the Mississippi. The rocks are not naturally there - they were placed by the people who are credited with the discovery of the source.

Travel Journal Day 1.5 & Day 2

Last night, I did drive to Stewartville, Minnesota. It proved its creepiness factor to me by being illuminated excessively. The drive to Stewartville was an adventure in and of itself. The city is only about 12 miles from Rochester, so it should have been a short jaunt. Since there was no fog, the lights didn't send a large beam into the sky and I didn't quite notice the city. My directions indicated to take Hwy 30 East. There was a detour on Hwy 30 East. So I took the detour. Forty miles later, I found the sign for Hwy 30 to Stewartville. Then I drove down that road, which indicated Stewartville to be 19 miles away. About 7 miles into this journey, in the pitch black except for my car headlights, the road ended.

Then I got the fun experience of turning around and going back to where I started! Along the way, I saw a larger animal scurry across the road, its eyes glaring green back at me. It was a bit ahead of me, but I thought it was a fox or badger. I hope it was a fox and I got to see it. It could have been a large raccoon, but I don't want to believe that. So there.

Speaking of raccoons, I look like one. Sort of. Even though today's activities did not include sitting in the sun, I managed to pick up some more rays while driving. There's a healthy line where my sunglasses covered my eyes. Oops. It is not a bad burn though. That's nice. Just a bit pink, which happens if I go into the sun for 5 minutes.

None of the pictures of Stewartville are all that impressive or exciting. There's about five blocks of mainstreet with lamposts all over the place. Eh. Whatever. The drive was nice and relaxing though.

This morning, I awoke to the sound of housekeeping tapping on the metal plate on the door. They wanted to clean the room 2 hours before checkout. I was still there so they went to another room. Check out was easy and I headed out in a packed car again. This time, I drove south for about an hour. That's when I arrived in Preston, Minnesota and tried to find Mystery Cave. My directions were not great (again - thanks Mapquest) and for some reason took me past the road I needed. I followed the directions for awhile and did manage to pass an abandoned home. I thought about exploring it, but it was across the street from a family out in their yard. It might have been theirs for all I knew.

Back to Preston, I found a gas station and asked for directions (and bought a map of Minnesota - I have one of the Twin Cities, but not one for the whole state). The woman gave me easy directions to the cave. A half hour later, I was there! (Although, if you had judged the time by my watch, I time warped and arrived there in -58 minutes. Because the second hand got stuck and the watch stopped working for an hour.)

The next tour wouldn't start for another 40 minutes, so the nice gentleman showed me a room with fossils that I could touch and I looked around another room with details about the cave. Then it was time for the tour. Well, after I bought a sweatshirt. I meant to bring one. I swear. I can actually see it from where I'm sitting. It was placed near my bags before I left and it stayed there.

As it turned out, no one else was on the tour! The gentleman, Alex, led me around the cave. He pointed out more details than he normally could for a larger group and I was able to take pictures. It was extremely cool. I would recommend this cave tour to anyone. The rock formations are just stunning and it is a different experience.

After the tour, I drove for an hour east on the Historic Bluffs Scenic Byway. There were beautiful landscapes, but I didn't get any great pictures. I don't know. I'll have to look more in depth later. I headed back towards Rochester eventually, stopping in the city for food and to fill up the car. Then I drove home.

I arrived at home around 7:30. I'm going out later tonight with a friend and Sarah is going to stop over soon. Tomorrow morning I'm off to Park Rapids to see the headwaters of the Mississippi!

*About the picture pool, if you want to join, you're still free to do so. Here's a hint (or fact about me): While in Portugal for 9 days, DM and I took a total of 4,000 pictures. We took over 1,000 on our one day trip to Canada. Just an FYI.

I will leave you with one picture - no editing. This is a formation at Mystery Cave called the Waterfall. I thought it was awesome.

Travel Journal Day 1

Think of a number. Wait, I should probably give some information first. There's a pool going on. The only true question about my vacation that most people have is the number of pictures I will end up taking. DM, Char, Steve, Liz, Bryan, and James have all given their figures for the pool. My question to you (as in "pick a number,") is simply, "What's your estimate?" If I can think of a good prize, there may be a fun present to who ever is closest.

Back to Day 1. When I originally looked at the website for boat tours in Taylors Falls, there was a 3:30 launch listed. This is only the case starting next week. Today, the outfit had one tour, launching at 1:30. Luckily, I realized this last night when I did further research (directions and trying to find the price). So I set the alarm clock a little earlier.

Unfortunately, I overslept by an hour. Fortunately, I'm a bit OCD so I had set the alarm for an hour and a half earlier than I really needed.

I grabbed all the bags I had packed the night before (okay, I know I'm only gone for a few days and I didn't bring a ton of clothes. Bags indicates one overnight bag, my camera bag, a cooler, my laptop, and my purse. All necessities.) I ran out the door to the car, or walked as quickly as I could while carrying all said junk.

The drive to Taylors Falls was pleasant, no rain but a few fluffy clouds in the skies. Once I got north of the cities, I exited onto a country highway that has frequent speed reduction areas, but I made it to the launch site with about 20 minutes to spare. And I didn't speed. The drive took me through a few towns (one was Chisago City) that had signs boasting ties to Sweden. That was pretty cool.

The boat tour was $14 for an adult, not too bad. It is narated and was 80 minutes long. The vessel was the "Taylors Falls Princess" and is one of two boats that give tours on this part of the St. Croix River. A family run business that has been in operation for over 100 years, it was lovely. I enjoyed relaxing and looking at the white fluffy clouds, the tall green pines and other trees, and trying to imagine the figures in the different rock formations. The St. Croix is known for these rock formations, left behind when the glaciers melted. I was able to see the "Holy Cross," the formation that gave the river its name. I also saw the "Old Man of the St. Croix," an elephant, another man's profile, and a lion. I didn't see the witch in the one formation and the Turkish man with a turban was difficult. I don't think I was looking in the right place.

There were few passengers on the ride. I sat on the upper deck with about 5 elderly couples and two families. Family with 'pudgy man who really shouldn't wear a neon orange shirt' dad had two little girls who spent most of the ride making each other hit themselves. That was fairly annoying. Especially since the girl who started it was the first to start screaming, "Stop! Stop! Don't do that!" The other family, the one with 'holy crap is that an attractive man' dad, had two cute little boys who shared snacks with each other and pointed out neat sites to each other. Hmmm. The boys were younger too. The one was pretty cute when he said to his brother, "I want to write a note to Mom and Dad. Can you help me spell?"

I found out that the St. Croix is one of the ten cleanest rivers in the United States and the reddish brown coloring has nothing to do with pollution or iron ore. It was a neat fact to know that the coloring comes from Tamarack (spelling?) trees that grow at the source of the river. Since everyone always asks about the coloring of water in pictures, I'm glad I know.

After the boat ride, I drove across the state border to the Wisconsin side of Interstate Park. The Minnesota side's state park is the 2nd oldest in Minnesota and the Wisconsin side is the first state park for Wisconsin. Together, they make the first interstate park in the United States. That was kind of interesting.

In Wisconsin, I purchased a day pass to explore the potholes/sinkholes that were formed by the glaciers melting. There is a short hike (.4 miles) that loops where you can see a few of these holes. I took off to do this and was surprised that my loafers didn't kill me while walking. I was able to also find a good vantage point to see the boat I had just departed and a few more scenes of the river. I only passed one set of people on the hike, a couple walking the loop the opposite direction. They didn't talk to me or each other. That was the quietest couple I've seen in awhile. Neither looked all that happy.

Leaving Interstate Park, I headed into the "downtown" portion of Taylors Falls and did find an ice cream shop. I think it is the one that two separate people mentioned to me. Teri was one of them. For a snack, I sampled a cone (one scoop only - but their definition of one scoop was a lot larger than mine - he scooped twice. That is no longer one scoop. But hey, more ice cream for me!) of Rum Black Cherry. I sat outside the shop at a table covered in old newspaper advertisements (100 year old ads) and watched people go to-and-fro. There's a dentist office right next to the ice cream place.

With a snack in my belly, I started driving south towards Rochester. The drive took about 3 and a half hours. It started raining off and on during the drive and only once (about 50 miles outside of Rochester) did I have to change my speed for the weather. There was about a 10 minute downpour that caused me to clench my fists and drive very slowly for a highway.

The rain passed and I entered Rochester. The hotel was easy to find and I took care of uploading pictures from both cameras. But no hints on the number yet! In my hotel room, I noticed that I definitely spent more time in the sun than I'm used to today. My arms are light pink and I may have a slight red line on my face. Okay, slight red everywhere except where my sunglasses were. Whoops. I'll grab some sunscreen before I go on the next boat ride on Thursday. The other adventures are mostly evening or dark places.

Right now, I'm waiting for it to get a little darker before I head off to Stewartville, the creepiest town I've ever known. I want the full effect of the streetlamps for the pictures I plan on taking, so I have about another 45 minutes to wait until I leave. I'll probably leave in a few minutes though and just find a place to eat. That's the part of my trip I didn't quite plan. And my stomach is not so happy about that. Ice cream and a few Bugles (car snack that my mom gave me) do not a full day meal make. I was going to eat in Taylors Falls, but I didn't find any food other than ice cream that sounded appealing. That's Day 1 so far.

Remember Me?

May is half over and this is my first post. What is happening? Ugh.

Sorry for being M.I.A. Nothing too exciting has been happening and there is really no reason for my absence. School is over - I did end up with an A even though my group members didn't deserve the massive amount of work I did on our projects. Someday I'll find a group where everyone contributes equally and can actually produce a good piece of work. I don't really want to rant about this anymore. I'll leave it at the fact my teacher said he'd change others grades if he saw fit and our final project received 100% for me. I'm hoping the other members didn't get that. Especially since it wasn't a 100% deserving paper.

In family life, all is good. Mom's walking around and back at work. I think she likes being out of the house again. Grandpa is getting stronger and instead of talking about hospice, he now is practicing walking back and forth across the living room and practicing getting in and out of the car. Dad likes this. I do too.

Work is, well, work. That might be part of the reason I've been missing. My stress level fluctuates at work quite a bit. I need a vacation and I have one approaching quickly. I decided to take the first full week of June off and if I can actually get someone to cover the Friday and Saturday night, I might get to. My team is on the path back to #1, but we're struggling in a couple of areas. There's just a lot of work to do each day. This is good because it keeps me busy, but the days of being able to sit back and watch all the efforts pay off are a ways away.

We had an off-site meeting last week. Actually, all the supervisors/managers went to a Twins baseball game. I took a few pictures that I liked.

I liked this one because you can see the ball.


This is outside the stadium.


This one was cool because the guy leading the wave (one of my peers) is the only object in focus.


In the office, I've been dealing with a leave of absence, two terminations, and numerous warnings. And that's only 1/4 of the team. The other 3/4 are performing great. That's where the struggle lies. We actually have a great team, but there are a couple of people who end up taking up all my time. It gets stressful. I still love what I do and I love my team. This is just normal frustration.

In response to a few comments from the last post. I know I wrote it a few weeks ago. Some readers feel sorry for the girl I went to high school with and I guess I can't blame you. What I left out was a time I was at Perkins with my former roommate. She was there with a flamboyant guy (to which I have no problems. I was there with a flamboyant guy myself.) As they were leaving, another table made a comment about her behind. Her friend came over and accused me of making fun of her. If she was so willing to blame me for a rude remark, I have no sympathy for her now. She knows we were never friends. I never did anything to her and I just want nothing to do with her now. And each time I run into her, she hugs me. I don't understand the leap between 'we were never friends' to 'buddy-buddy.' She's living in a different reality than I.

I recently purchased an upgraded version of Photoshop Elements. One of the things I've been doing with it is creating scrapbook layouts/plans. It's a way to 'not think.' Below is an example of what I've been doing. I have over 30 of them in the computer and at least 15 more drawn out on paper. Makes me think I really should develop pictures soon so I can scrapbook them.



Karaoke has been enjoyable. DM is back and that is nice. I missed her. It has also been nice that Craig is in another country. The Sunday that DM was gone was an interesting one. Amy, Sara, and Shannon were there. Char showed up later too. There were also prostitutes that were thrown out the bar for soliciting this table of Eastern European men. It's a neighborhood bar in a varied neighborhood. Some of the adventures we've had from karaoke make the bar sound like this terrible place, but it really isn't. Just weird, random things occasionally happen there.

I keep thinking about my vacation. I have some tentative plans for the time off. I'm going to be house sitting for my mom while she and Scott go camping the weekend before the time off. I figure I can plan a few day trips around Minnesota for photographic opportunities (and play with my newest toy - a Sony digital SLR). I have three places in the state in mind and also found something cool to do in Minneapolis. The last weekend of the time off will be good for scrapbooking and hanging out with DM, Keem, and Sarah.

Again, my apologies for not being around. I know there are over 90 posts to read. This is what happens when you get behind. To think, I used to read and post daily. To get there again. It shall happen.

Oh, and I now know my final classes schedule. I have another class at the end of June, one in the late summer, and then three in 2008. My last day of school will be June 9, 2008. Just in time for my 11 year anniversary with the company that pays for my tuition.

Cold-Hearted

I know. I know. I haven't been around for awhile. There is no real excuse other than after reading a whole bunch of posts for school, my desire to write and read for fun tends to diminish. School is going fine. My teacher really likes it if we put graphics in our papers. A little odd, but it is a marketing class so I guess I see his logic.

On Tuesday night, I got home to find a woman standing in the entryway of my apartment building. I know this woman, unfortunately. I wrote about her once before, maybe a year/year and a half ago. She used to live in my apartment complex and I went to high school with her. I've known her since first grade and have never liked her. Besides the fact she has never had a concept of personal space (and my personal space is valued highly by me), she tends to rub against people and leeches onto people. In school, she was never really my friend, but attached herself to people who were my friends.

When I ran into her last time, she told me the negative things in her life - being evicted and working as a bagger at a grocery store. She also hugged me which is annoying if you don't like the person.

When I saw her on Tuesday night, it was a repeat of the hug and telling me all her problems. Apparently, her father lives in my building so she was staying with him. But she was staying with him because her roommate tried to kill her. She told me how nice it was to see an old friend, hugged me again, and told me how she got her clothes out of her apartment.

And all I could think of was, "I don't like you. If you keep touching me, I might want to kill you." Which prbably makes me somewhat cold-hearted. I didn't say this to her; I just tried to get away as quickly as possible.

So, that's one of the random things that have happened to me as of late. I still like everyone in the blogging world and I'm sorry I haven't been around. I'll try to get around soon, I promise.

For a Title, I'd Like to Quote Lyrics to a Song in the Easter Karaoke Fashion, But Tact Prevents Me

Solo tonight, I headed to the Chalet and arrived just as my watch signalled 9:30 PM. The infamous DM is MIA, claiming the sickness has won tonight. In telling Bryan, our minister and leader at this church of song, that she had to leave a wedding early on Saturday due to this illness, he is surprised by the notion. "I never remember that you can just leave." But then the thought of an "Uncle Joey" sampling an open (or cash) bar always keeps him present for the after festivities.

With this holiday (Easter) being an early morning event, the size of the crowd tonight will be a wild card. I hope the Angie Ang & Amy group shows up and it would be nice to visit with Jason & his crew. James is back in town so he should be up with Liz towards the end of the night. An absence of a certain phony Scottsman would be appreciated. Unlikey, but hey, a girl can wish.

Last year, we had an Easter karaoke worthy of our eternal destinations. Much enjoyment can be found in replacing each "baby" as "Jesus" in the songs. Some songs end up with a good Christian connotation; some do not.

Amy text messaged me to let me know she will not be up tonight. I hoped for Angie and Amy to be there, especially since Angie was part of the "celebration" last year and mentioned this upcoming Sunday last week, but no such luck.

There are two doors to enter the Chalet, one on each end of the bar leading from the parking lot. Both entrances are actually two doors. The entrance by the karaoke machine is close to airtight so when someone opens the outer door, the inner door moves slightly. This signal a new patron entering and is my secret to my "psychic" abilities. I am noticing that each time someone enters tonight, I am afraid it will be Craig and that I'll be stuckalone with him. This is not good. I do not like the feeling of worry I get over the fact I will most likely be stuck talking to him alone.

There is a post I have been postponing to write about this problem. File it under "unwanted advances." I suppose this post will be the one where I explain this problem. The issue is an overly friendly and obvious obnoxious man who is too closely intermingled in my circle of friends. I do not want to be rude tohim because he is a friend of a friend, but it comes down to the fact he creeps me out. He always tries to sit next to me, his mood turns sour when another man (interesting or not) sits by me, and feels the need to wear enough cologne to cause a medium sized community run for gas masks. His most recent attempt at flirting has been to introduce baby talk into his fake accent. "Gooseys" is not impressive. And there have been few in my life who have gotten away with their lives after calling me, "Bethy." My godmother is allowed that pet name; not him. It is a simple way to aggrevate me instantly. The metal baton and consistent 'I hate the bloody world' attitude he carries are also turn-offs. And forcing me to listen to an obscene song about a woman demanding oral sex is not going to make me want to go near you (or your Listerine infested crotch (side note: James and Dean shared a story about Craig's attempt at dating that involved washing himself in a certain area in the hopes of getting some action on a first date. This is also not a turn-on.)) Telling me that when "I take you out to dinner" (NEVER happening) that you'll bring me to a vegetarian establishment and we'll share tofu (I'm a carnivore ID-10-T) does not increase your chances.

I've been tempted to say to him, "Very few people are allowed in my bubble. You're not on the list and you never will be."

Bryan has not decided what our church is yet this year but has told me the disappearance of honey bees is the sign to prove we're right in our beliefs. It is good to be friends with such a creative and humorous man.

Andrew has arrived, receiving hoots and hollars of "I love you!" from the bar patrons (okay, mostly Donnie). Andrew is a fixture at the Chalet. He tends to follow Bryan around and they create mischief. They are the reason pick up baseball games are commonly held in the bar.

While trying to kil time on this slow Easter karaoke Sunday, I turn back in my notebook for random notes of unpublished posts. I bring you some of these now. Well, those that are Chalet related.

In January, I was practically mauled in the bathroom by a woman too highly hopped up on Woman's Lib. While I am an advocate for equality between the sexes, I ould choose another avenue to express this value. Yelling in pride at another woman that you don't know in a public restroom, "We just need a voice! We are women! We need toilet paper!!!" seems a bit extreme.

From sometime in February, I have this written in the notebook: Only at the Chalet can you observe an obnoxious, intoxicated woman screaming, "I need balls!" while trying to master the art of juggling, using her words and not mine, "weiners."

A conversation between DM and I while playing Trivial Pursuit in March:
B: What dictatorship was the only South American nation to support the British in its war over the Falkland Islands?
D: Iraq
B: What South American nation...
D: Oh! China?
B: [pause] [groan]
D: Chile?
B: Now you got it.

Ten thirty has arrived and Bryan has started a rotation. A guy just sang a great rendition of "The Lady is a Tramp," and now DM's fan is singing, "Love Me Tender." I lke the mood being established.

Okay, back to my notes. Speaking of fans of DM, a few weeks ago we met Tommy. Describing Tommy is important. Bryan allowd a cross between a pirate, Freddy Krueger, the Wicked Witch of the West, and David Bowie from the "China Girl" video. Aptly put.

DM was wearing her purple top that sparkles. It was a beacon for Tommy. He was inspired by her blouse to sing a song, or in better words, croon some Andy Williams while gazing at DM. He told her, while grabbing a seat next to her, "I love your shirt, your beautiful shirt. Did you make it?"

She replied in the negative and he continued. "Has anyone told you they like that shirt? Help me because I can't see [he was trying to read the karaoke book] - I love your beautiful shirt."

At the end of that evening, he stopped by the table again to compliment the shirt again. "I'm so absolutely in love with that blouse. I think it is the best ever." DM was ready to give him the shirt off her back just to satisfy him.

Two weeks ago, Bryan suggested a visit to plasticgrocerybag.com. Supposedly, this is a site that suggests fun activities to use those leftovers from shopping. And most of the ideads are terrible and involve young children. I keep meaning to check it out - Bryan mentioned it is good for one of those uncomfortable laughs.

Eleven PM is here now. So is Craig. His first words to me involved a story about a stripper and pasties. Great. During the rest of the evening, he mentioned bowel movements (in not so nice of terms) that resembled egg rolls and used more English slang than normal. I swear, Craig arrives and the stage direction should read, "Enter Uncomfortable Silence stage right."

Jason, Kenny, and Ryan did all appear after only 30 minutes of my torture with Craig. The bar filled up around midnight and karaoke was going strong. Around 1, Liz, James, and little Matt arrived. Liz and I had a great conversation about management frustrations (one of the reasons I love talking to Liz and James is the fact we're all managers in different fields so we can discuss the pros and cons without being industry specific).

I had a good time tonight, even with the creepy fake Scottsman (okay, he is from Scotland. But he has lived here for many, many years. His accent is only used on women) present. I'm happy to know that he will be out of the country for a few weeks starting in 9 days (yippie!!! Oh, sorry Europe) and the uncomfortable moments will subside for a bit. Everyone missed DM tonight and Easter Sunday was a little lower key than last year, but still a lot of fun.

Surprise!

Well, I hate it when I forget something rather important and it arrives unexpected. As I was checking my email tonight (hopeful for a response from a certain someone who is really getting on my nerves due to his busy schedule), I found an email from a woman I don't know. But that email held important information. Important information such as, "School starts at midnight." And guess what? It's already 3 am.

You know, I realized I would start classes back up in April, but I didn't realize it would be April 3. This class is Marketing and I hope I'll do okay. I printed up the syllabus, downloaded the text, and posted my autobiography in the chat room. I'm hoping that my learning group will not drive me batty and that I figure out a schedule quickly to accomplish random tasks and assignments.

Yikes!

Fun with Photoshop

When DM and I went to Wisconsin to visit with Diana, we stopped at a bookstore and I picked up a book about Photoshop Elements. Once in awhile, I read about a new technique and then try it out with some of the pictures from Portugal. I keep thinking that I need to go on vacation again to a new place. The newer camera and things I've learned just makes me wonder what I could come up with for pictures. But that's beside the point.

I just wanted to share a few of the newer pictures I've put together.

Sitting in a Cafe in Europe.

This picture was originally taken with no purpose in mind. The original picture has received quite a few comments from those viewing it and most remark how it is typical of a European outdoor cafe. In the editing, I made a few layers for the image. In one, I defined the lines. Another layer was adjusted for colors - brightening the image quite a bit. I do enjoy the framing of this shot with the tree.

Angel in Evora.

I just liked the way the colors of the marble were brought out when I edited this picture. The original is mostly neutral in color.

Along the Street.

This was taken as DM and I left the Gulbenkian Museum in Lisbon. It's not much for a subject, but I am quite proud of the editing I did. First, I blurred the background right behind the statue and sharpened the statue itself so it popped out more. I also converged the vertical lines by distoring the picture (using the perspective option). In creating another layer, I was able to enhance the color of the wall, making it a deeper shade of red and more vibrant. The clone function allowed me to remove a chip in the wall. I erased the entire frame of the statue in this layer and then flattened the image. I cropped it too. I like it more than the original:

Praca de Espanha.

Run Away and Never Look Back

*This is written pretty much in real time. If my verb tenses change throughout, I apologize.

I had just finished watching this week’s newest episode of CSI when I heard a loud male scream and a crash above me. The couple who lives upstairs were not yelling in rapture tonight. This man, whom I’ve never met, screamed a profanity and then, I assume, threw something hard. Since I didn’t know what was going on, I went to my room to listen if this was just an accident (like stubbing your toe or something) and it was quiet for about a minute. Then the man started screaming again and there were more crashes. He was screaming THE profanity over and over, crying about how “you don’t know” or something. After much screaming, I heard her yelling back about how she didn’t do something and he kept telling her to, “Get out, get out of my apartment!” Insert colorful language here. There may have been a few phrases about not knowing how it feels from the man.

Afraid, I called the police. I couldn’t let this go. The operator let me go and signaled a squad car to come out. There was more screaming on his part. Before they arrived, I could hear her sobbing. I hope to God she locked herself in the bathroom.

The police have arrived and I don’t know what is going on. I don’t really want to know. I just want her to be safe. I hope she does get out and never comes back.

I’m sure I made an enemy tonight. I asked for anonymity and there are others in the apartment building who may have heard. I probably had the geographical advantage of hearing the fight – my apartment is directly below theirs.

My heart is racing and I’m scared for her. There is still walking around upstairs; creak, creak, creak. There are muffled voices from above now. It sounds like two males talking – I assume the officer is checking out the scene. Just make her safe.

I can hear doors opening and closing in the building. One of those doors needs a little oil; it squeaks.

My nerves are shot. I think it is quite possible I’ll start chewing my nails off here.

The stomping has dissipated at least. Either the man calmed down quite a bit or he’s no longer in the apartment above. I’m worried that he may be vengeful because the police arrived but I feel better knowing someone could protect her. I don’t know what happened between the two. I don’t care.

I hope she leaves him. I hope she never returns to him.

It has quieted completely upstairs. I keep expecting a knock on the door or my phone to ring. An officer called once they arrived at the apartment complex to have me open the door. I can’t tell anymore if the police are still here. From start to now, I’d say it’s been less than 25 minutes. Looking at my phone, it was 9 minutes between the time I dialed 9-1-1 and the time the officer called me to open the door. And it’s been 27 minutes since the officer called me.

The only sounds now are those of rain lightly hitting the window, the hum of my refrigerator, the tick-tick-tick of my wall clock, and the tapping of keys as I type. I think there is still someone upstairs, but the talking has ceased. My nerves are returning to normal.

And to think, I was going to write a post about the phrase of the week (which is “He’s always tooken cares of cars anyways,” if you were wondering). Or write about my problem at karaoke – the man with the phony Scottish accent invading my personal space and bathing in cologne. Seems insignificant right now.

Entertaining

My favorite overheard quote from an evening at the pool hall with Char was said by a tiny woman wearing a pink tank top and a lei with flashing red lights embedded in it:

"She's way more drunk than I am. Look at my toes!"

If a Picture is Worth 1,000 Words, This is a Really Long Post

Ah, DM's birthday. She's 40 now you know. To celebrate my best friend's special day, we each took a few days off work and made a long weekend out of the event. DM wrote a post about her weekend and I don't have much to add. Mainly, I'll provide the pictures.

I hope you enjoy!



On Friday night, we went to a goodbye party for one of my favorite co-workers. This is a picture of Mary (said co-worker) and me.


At Manny's after the opera


Forty and still able to rock. This picture has gotten the response, "Awesome," more than once.


There are more pictures on Flickr and DM has access to post some of the ones I marked private (friends and/or family only able to see). She may post a few more. I'm going to leave this post as just a few.

It was a great weekend, filled with laughter, friends, happy times, and well-wishes. Even crazy moments (such as surprise visitors at karaoke, getting lost, random Trivial Pursuit answers, and conversations about my ability to flip people off while driving) made the weekend that much more special. Best wishes and happy birthday to a wonderful woman! Dana - You Absolutely Rock. I can't think of a better friend.

Just Another Saturday Night at the Pool Hall

After work, Char and I headed to the pool hall. This has become a semi-normal Saturday night for us. The pool hall gives us a place to walk around some, take out a little aggression (on the pool balls), relax, and unwind. We can chat a little about work (those bits of conversation that may be better stated out of the office) and get our fill of assorted personalities. There is a crowd that pool halls typically attract and I'll be the first to admit it is not always the classiest of crowds.

We were hit on tonight. Well, if you call it that. A drunk man stumbled towards us on his way out the door (someone else was driving him) and commented on our "chins". I don't think the word chin was what he meant, especially considering the comment of, "That's not what I meant," slurred after saying chin, but whatever.

Nature called and I had to use the rest room of the establishment. This is when I realized some of the oddest situations occur in rest rooms. I was in one stall. The larger stall was empty and two women (a little buzzed, but no where near drunk) come in. I expect one to enter the other stall while her companion/friend waits.

When I return to the table, the following conversation with Char occurs:

B (me): We're friends, right?
C (Char): Of course.
B: And we've known each other for quite awhile now.
C: Yes.
B: I just want to make something clear. We would never share a stall taking turns at peeing, right?
C: That would be correct.
B: And we would not do this while talking about how we just met this very night, right?
C: That would also be correct.

It's not like there was a history of friendship between these two women. They were discussing how they just met tonight. Now, I have friends who I adore and trust and can be comfortable around. Peeing with them has never crossed my mind.

This is not an option.

Snow Day

Finally! Living in Minnesota, you expect to get snow days once in awhile. In high school, I had a couple of days where the schools were closed because it was too cold to leave the house, but I don't remember a snow day since elementary school and I don't even remember those. My mom does say they happened though. Even the Halloween blizzard of 1991 didn't result in a snow day for me (only because my school was already closed the next day for something else).

But! After receiving a foot of snow last Saturday night/Sunday morning and having another storm arrive today, our call center closed! By the time I had left for work, the snow was up to my ankles. I was at work for two hours before we closed and in that time I had two meetings and was able to call the members of my team not there yet and tell them to stay home.

Once we closed, I went out and brushed at least 2 inches of snow off my car. Then I headed to my dad's after returning a call to James (karaoke was cancelled). I was at my dad's for four hours and at least another 4 inches of snow fell.

I'm at home now and messing with photographs (seeing what to develop for the last year) and looking out the window, I see the snow half way up the tires of the cars in the parking lot. But some of those cars were not there when the snow started. I'd imagine we're up to 8 inches or so of snow by now. Pretty cool.

Snow! I'm excited. I'm pretty sure I'll have to work Friday night. The roads will be cleared by then, but a girl can hope!

**I've been locked out of Blogger. Blast! Something about being flagged as a spam blog. This is annoying. It's probably because I used electronical terms too much. Dumb.

***In regards to my previous post, I have figured out the problem. There is no signal into the VCR. This can be resolved by changing the order of the connections and adding a cable - so at least there is that.

Comedians of the Late 80's Could Have Done a Routine About Grandparents Having This Problem

I used to think I was technically savvy. At least a little. I could program any device I bought and the end result would be pretty. Well, not pretty, but at least functional.

For example, being able to set up my television from the early 80's (it is cable ready but has no other input/output jacks) to two gaming systems, a DVD player (with surround sound), and a VCR proved to myself that I could understand the electronics that have taken over our world. Sure, it takes two adapters and the cables behind the entertainment system seem to snake out more than Medusa's head, but hey, it worked.

Or so I thought. The gaming systems work. The DVD player works. The surround sound is good (although kept quiet due to the fact I live in an apartment building and unlike my upstairs neighbors I have some respect for others). The television shows all the channels, including those I didn't realize I had. The VCR even plays old tapes. Or did the last time I actually tried to watch a VHS movie.

This setup seems absolutely ridiculous if you knew my personal habits. I rarely watch TV. I don't play many games. My addiction to watching movies has declined. Now that I live alone, I find myself a larger fan of music than of television and have gotten into the habit of listening to iTunes shuffle. The television shows I do watch are typically shown through the computer. Heck, the picture is usually better on the laptop screen. The TV is that old. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure it was a gift for my 8th birthday. That was over 20 years ago. The remote stopped working at least 5 years ago. I might still have it somewhere (because it is for the TV and it would feel odd to my pack rat personality to make it part with its master) and I've vaguely considered having the remote looked at. Maybe the bulb just failed in it. Who knows? Not I.

But back to the subject. I used to think I was technically savvy. That was until I decided to try and record something. That something would be LOST, one of three television shows I actually watch. Since my season pass for the show on iTunes has been allowing me to download episodes only after I leave for work on Thursdays and since the conversations about the show happen at karaoke Thursday nights, I thought it might be nice to be able to watch the show on Wednesday evening after work.

My VCR will play movies. But record? I cannot figure this thing out. The more I mess around with it, the more I'm coming to believe it is impossible. But I'm pretty sure a child of 6 could figure it out.

Which makes me feel incredibly old. At least I was able to set the clock on the VCR.

An Actual Snowstorm

As we left the building at the end of a Saturday night at work, we were amazed to see that the snow was actually accumulating and still arriving.

I love snow. I really do. That's one of the reasons I live in Minnesota. Flakes caught in eye lashes of cute boys, catching flakes on your tongue, the feeling of softness on the ground, it is all wonderful. Since I live close to work, driving in snow doesn't bother me all that often and I'm actually hoping for a bit more snow to arrive and shut down the city for once.

The problem is that our snow removal system is efficient. It is pretty good. Usually the roads are cleared up within 3 hours of the end of the snow. I saw 5 plows alone circling our parking lot at work before we left. Keeping pace with the flurries I guess.

There was lightning and thunder. It's a thunder-blizzard! That's just fun. The snow is still coming now, but it has lightened up a little. The weather report says we should get some more tomorrow. Either way it will be an adventure to dig the car out. I had enough trouble getting out of a spot at work having only been parked there for 5 hours.

To prove my love of snow and how insane Char and I can be, I bring you pictures of the snow angels we made. We were almost frozen by the time we were finished, but it was fun.


Sea of White


Yes, We are Crazy Minnesotans (Char making an angel)


Finding the Perfect Place to Drop (Me)


My Fingers Were Pretty Numb By This Point


When is the Last Time You Made a Snow Angel?


Halo Effect (Fun with Photoshop)

Both of the angels shown here are from Char's angel. The pictures of my angel didn't turn out too well - frozen fingers by that point!

The Door is Ajar

13 days and counting now, I've been driving a different vehicle than my wonderful silver Toyota. Parked in my assigned spot is a vehicle that I have come to despise. The eyesore is a PT Cruiser. I keep thinking the vehicle is a cross between a station wagon (loser car of the 70s & 80s) and a minivan (the replacement of the station wagon). I hope not to offend anyone who has purchased this type of vehicle, but jeez. It's awful.

When the station wagon met the minivan, they decided to sire a child that has no horsepower whatsoever. It is your basic model vehicle, no frills. The dash does give the temperature and direction. Besides the clock, which looks like it would be in place only on a yacht, the direction indicator is the only cool part of the vehicle.

There is a towel bar above the glove box. A towel bar! What is that for? I suppose it is a variation of the hand grips above the doors, but can't help but wonder if it was placed in the car to service those who just feel the need to dry out their clothes after a day at the beach. Or for those who live in their cars and may try to put a shower in the backseat that is 20 feet (exaggeration) long and has absolutely no leg room (not an exaggeration).

Enough about the Perfectly Terrible Cruiser* and just about time. I spoke to the body shop today and it seems my Toyota will return to me tomorrow afternoon. I miss it.

You be asking, "But why is the Toyota in the shop?" or "What is the reason for the rental?" Two weeks ago, while on lunch break at work, there was this ice patch that my Toyota found as I rounded a curve. The resulting accident was definitely recorded as my fault and I don't deny that. I was not driving excessively though. I was going 15-20 miles in a 30 zone and trying to be cautious of the weather conditions. The back tire just found that patch of packed snow and black ice and the back end fish tailed. There was another car coming from the opposite direction and my back end found that vehicle's door.

That's why we have insurance.

My car had about $3,000 worth of damage. And was still operable. I don't understand how they determine the price of damage. It does stun me how the pieces of the car can equal more than the value of the vehicle, but that's the way it is. From the pictures, you'll see the bumper cover is cracked - no damage to the actual insulator though. There are dents in the panel (the expensive panel - the one that goes from the hood to the trunk), and the glass around the tail light shattered. The light still worked fine.

No one was hurt. Steve and I just ended up returning to work later than we had planned.

*The PT in the PT Cruiser has sparked some jokes between DM and I. I have bonded with the car, agreeing with it that it is a terrible excuse for motorized transportation. I speak to it and tell it often how awful it is. DM finds this funny.

All is Well in the Land of Nod

It seems my ability to post each night has slipped. Taken a holiday, you might say. Nothing is wrong. There are a couple of noteworthy things to write about. In fact, there are notes for a couple of posts in my little notebook that holds a place in my purse. I do feel a bit like I've been asleep when it comes to blogging as of late, but we all need our rest.

The most important news is the fact my mom is out of the hospital, on the road to recovery. Her hip replacement surgery went well and without a problem last Friday. She moved from the hospital to a nursing home today. She hates the home, but with two dogs and two cats who love to be around her, she needs a bit of time to recover without worrying about them getting under foot. Scott says the animals are all like zombies, sad that she is not home. Sure, they still get their meals, but they do love her more than anything else.

I visited my mom tonight at the home. She hates it there. I don't blame her. It is quite the experience to walk into a nursing home. We spoke about her time off from work to recover. Since I work nights and she doesn't need to go to work, I may go over to her place after work to spend some time in the next few weeks. That would be nice.

Sorry for missing many posts as of late. I'll be around to visit on Tuesday or Wednesday night. I hope all is well!

While Jim Morrison was a Rock God, His Lyrics Leave Much to Be Desired*

Is this a coincidence? A case of bad luck? Do the planets align in a certain way to make this happen? Is there an aura that attracts a certain type of person to me? Or is it some weird form of magnetism that doesn't involve metal? Whatever the case may be, I have a way of attracting freaks. Not everyone I know, thankfully, but enough random strangers that make me believe the word stranger is perfect. "People are strange, when you're a stranger," as the old Doors song goes.

Shrunken head man. Farty old guy. El stalkerino. Mouse. Uncle Ga-Ga. Birchwood. Man-booby caretaker. Pete and Guru. The list goes on and on.

In the same fashion, I have found a new person to add to the list. Last April, my computer died. It was a heart attack. Quick, painful, and expensive. I purchased the laptop (which I adore) at Mega Electronics Retail (MER for short) and had to have the deceased machine poked and prodded. My hopes were that an autopsy could recover some of the lost data. My hopes were crushed. Luckily, my anal retentive personality allowed a minimal amount of lost files due to back-ups and uploads (Flickr is wonderful!). While at MER, I dealt with a man working behind the computer counter. I think I meant to write about that odd experience, yet never quite did.

The man worked for the Nerd Brigade. And he took the title seriously. Do you ever have those interactions with someone who is not quite flirting but you can see hidden intentions and those intentions are the creepy variety? That's what it was like talking to him. He was too familiar. He acted like he knew me more than he should have.

This is a man whom I instantly stereotyped into the group of men who would never move out of his mom's basement until she either kicked him out or kicked the bucket. Nerd Brigade, remember. Not cool, intelligent tech guy. No. Nerd Brigade. He looked over my paperwork, noting my name a little too much and I squirmed as he made it clear he now knew my address. One of the questions on the paperwork was whether or not I thought the Nerd Brigade should wear capes. I indicated in the negative. His remark, "I have a cape."

Once out of the store, complete with the laptop, I thought I was cleansed of him. I held this belief until a month ago when Steve and I visited the local fast sub shop. Walking in and seeing him behind the counter, I instantly recognized him. And he recognized me, but not enough to remember where we had last met. As he told me that he knew me, I played it off and pretended that I did not know him. The uncomfortable, searching gaze continued from his face and I ordered my food, hoping to be back at work as quickly as possible and away from him. We got our food and left without incident.

A week ago, Steve craved subs again. I realized at that point, I'd been avoiding returning to the sub shop in fears this individual would recognize me and try to start a conversation.

When we walked in, my stomach dropped and I wanted to groan aloud because he was there again, behind the counter. Again, he told me that he knew me and made a point of looking at my debit card, searching his mind for my name. I don't want to be on any list in his head. He tells me that he has a thing for faces and mine is familiar. This time, I try to play it off as a frequent visitor of the sub shop, but he is not satisfied.

In these interactions, I am comforted by the fact Steve is with me. While a co-worker, Steve is also a friend and someone that will help direct attention away. We get our subs and eat and notice other patrons doing the same. No one draws attention to the out-of-place item in the store. Acknowledgement never happens. It is as if there is an unvoiced agreement in society to ignore strangeness in the group hope that by ignoring it, it will disappear.

We finish our subs and get back in the car. Once clear of earshot, we can no longer hold it in. "He was wearing a CAPE!" I exclaim and Steve dissolves into giggles.

Steve, ever so cleaver, nicknames him, "Captain BLT," and creates a comic story around him. It is his secret identity and his sidekick would be named, "Pickles."

Who? Why? What? He was wearing a cape, a legitimate cape - not the bath towel variety that you'd find on little children trying to play Superman, but a silk cape with some secret symbol on the back. He was working at a place that does not have capes as part of the dress code. It was not required. Why? I don't understand.

Scary. Just plain scary.

*Check the lyrics to "People Are Strange." There is only one verse, repeated three times. There is a chorus that repeats part of the verse. Yeah, stick with what you know.

Any Given Sunday

Written at karaoke, Sunday, January 21, 2007

There is a couple at the Chalet tonight I've never seen before but already I hope they return. They are mature adults, sitting close to the stage, and they are enhusiastic about karaoke. The woman is graying but not letting her youth slip away without a fight. Streaks of bright red peak out of her bob. The man reads a local paper as she sings, "Oh, What a Night!" in his direction. When she is done, he smiles and applauds before it is his turn to sing. The time comes when neither are on the stage but they sit holding hands, politley listening to each singer and encouraging other patrons. In thirty minutes and with no conversation between their table and ours, I know these are decent people.

Anthony, a regular who we both gave nary a second glance until he sang, has arrived with a group of twenty-somethings, giving proof that there is hope for the world that there are courteous and fun-loving youth out there that do not just exist to cause trouble.

It is a nice offset for the group in the corner. Amanda is there with two others, a woman who is sitting prim and proper with a man who is not the ROCK ON guy. Mary is also here at a table with some non-interested blonde. Mary is, well, almost annoying. She is nice enough, but aggressive. Alcohol does not help her demeanor. With the arrival of Amanda and Mary, it is even money on whether or not Stubes will show. And, as if on cue, the door opens and he is here. Amanda starts singing, Mary and Stubes start talking and instantly the bar is no longer quaint, but bursting with loud, obnoixious yelling. Where, oh where, can my Advil be?

I uncover my purse (hidden by my coat) to find the small bottle of headache relief and my eyes manage to spy another couple at the bar. The problem with being observant is the fact you see what you don't want to observe. This couple is a foot apart and their tongues are alreadying hanging out of their mouths like dogs on a hot summer day. As they lean in, they start French kissing, which in their case resembles tigers devouring a fresh kill. Class starts emulating from the building.

Anthony sings, DM and I both hope for, "Like a Stone," and he strays towards country. I never realized that "Two of a Kind," by Garth Brooks could be so hot.

Bryan calls up the next singer, reading the thoughts of most of the bar. "Oh, no! Stubes." He manages, "Honky-Tonk-Ba-Donka-I-Don't-Even-Care-If-This-Is-Close-To-Accurate-Titling-Of-This-Country-Equivalent-Of-Objectifying-Women-Based-On-The-Size-Of-Their-Ass," as always, with zero emotion. At least no women got up to shake their backsides in his direction this time. Thank God for small favors.

Oh my! What in the world is Ms. Prim-and-Proper not wearing? In a moment's notice costume change, she has transformed into a courtesan on leave from the bordello. While eye catching, the skin tight hot pink pants are not the scary bit of her outfit. It is coupled with a black corset. But she's got religion. The cross on the leather strap seems foreign with the outfit. We all get the sight of this ensemble as she joins Amanda on the stage for a rendition of some country song that the high notes feel like a saw scraping our spines.

The evening is moving along and we are surprised by James and Liz arriving. As they wave and get their beers, I make the decision to put away my notebook, ready for conversation rather than observation. Yes, just another night at the Chalet.