Seriously, who does that?

Alright, I am now selling tickets to the fight I will soon be having with my neighbor if he doesn't stop inviting his blasted Irish folk band over for music making (not merry, I might add) and loud singing late at night in the middle of the week. A girl's got to get her beauty sleep.

Come on apt. #2, do you really think this is appropriate and acceptable behavior? You do realize you live in an apartment complex, right? Was the reason you gave me beer earlier this year to get on my good side because you knew that you'd soon be tormenting my ears with loud bellowing when I'm trying to drift off into dream world. Practice all you want any other time, but not when I am going to sleep. I have sleeping issues and I don't need you or Irish folk music disrupting me. I've met you. You seem like a nice guy; not an arrogant selfish bastard who would be that disrespectable. I will throw down though, if necessary. Either that, or be prepared to start hearing *NSYNC's self-titled album blaring through your wall. My guess is you don't care for "Tearin' Up My Heart" quite like I do.

A curse on both your houses!

My old addictions have resurfaced. They're so good. Once they hit your lips, they're so good.

I guess I could have worse vices. Oh wait...

Let's get political, political. I wanna get political...

This past weekend I went to visit a few friends in Washington D.C. I'm just going to start by throwing out that I was at the same bar as Dave Chappelle my last night there (I was very tempted to go up to him and offer to buy him some purple drink, but I kept my cool). So according to my new scale of measuring fun (see second to previous post), I had a fabulous time. But let's rewind and start from the beginning. Friday was St. Patrick's Day. We went to a house party around 2:00 pm to watch NCAA basketball games (I don't even want to talk about my bracket) . But more importantly, we went to drink from the keg of green beer. I learned a valuable lesson: green beer drinking at 2:00 p.m. = April asleep by midnight with a green tongue. About 6 we left the party to get something to eat and I am still astonished and amazed that I was able to put down an entire burrito from Chipotle. These things are ginormous (same size as Qdoba, or a small infant, if that helps). We went out after dinner, but not for long.


Saturday, I did all the "touristy" things. The buildings and monuments really are spectacular and I was very impressed. I barely scratched the surface though of that city and am eager to go back. I saw the Supreme Court, the Capitol Building, the Washington Monument, the Botanical Gardens, the Whitehouse (luckily, I didn't get sniped), the Museum of Science and Natural History where I saw the Hope Diamond and a dinosaur, the Vietnam Memorial, the World War II Memorial, and the Lincoln Memorial, which was probably my favorite.

Representing Arkansas at the WWII Memorial.


You're my boy, Lincoln!


The Washington Monument is coming out of my head.


Ahhh, a dinosaur is eating my arm!


I like this picture because those are our reflections on the Vietnam Memorial. It is cool.


Here's where all the action takes place (maybe not all of it, but it's pretty hard to truly grasp the magnamity of all that happens, has happened, and will happen in this city). Here's a fun fact: D.C. has no skyscrapers because no building in the city can be built taller than this one.


I made it out much longer on Saturday night. We started out at a jazz club that was BYOB. We filled up a flask and listened to a few more than decent musicians. We left there to meet up with some other people who told us they were at a bar called Judy's. If you go to D.C., DO NOT GO TO JUDY'S! Judy's is an El Salvadorian restaurant that turns into a bar/dance place at night. By dancing I mean however one dances to mariachi music. The first sign we should not have been there was when my friend got metal detected as we walked in. He had the flask in his pocket. The second sign we should not have been there was when the flask set off the metal detector several times, but nothing was done about it. I didn't get checked. The place smelled like horrible body odor because it had no ventilation. We were the only two non-Hispanic people in the place and I was one of only 5 girls there. I honestly thought the people we were supposed to meet there had played a prank on us by sending us there. They were not there; they had (wisely) decided to go to another bar and hadn't even been there. We met them at a restaurant/jazz bar called Utopia where it ended up that Dave Chappelle was hanging out. He wasn't there long though, but as he left he brushed past my back and touched my hair. I will never wash it again! Haha. But not really. I then spent a half hour defending my use of the word "redonkulous", which I used in describing my Judy's experience. I think it was an excellent choice in conveying how ridiculous and comical my being there had been. We finished the night at Ben's Chili Bowl, which is a D.C. landmark and popular late night eatery where you can order almost anything slathered in chili. There is a whole lot more I could tell you about my trip, but do you really want to know more than about the eating, the drinking, and the celebrity siting?

I saw and learned quite a bit in D.C., but this new piece of information blows my mind more than anything else. Did you know that bagels are boiled before they are baked? Fascinating.

I'm so sorry, I'm so very sorry/Coaching raises my self esteem

Actually, I am not sorry at all. I went to see Morrissey play in Tulsa last night and my ears are still ringing with awesomeness. The only thing I am sorry about is that I, following the rules, did not bring my camera. Once the concert started everyone but me started whipping out cameras and taking pictures. From this point forward, I adhere to zero camera prohibiting laws. The only picture I took was this crapulous (I just learned this word and have been waiting for my chance to use it--sweet!) one with my cell phone.

The opening band was Tiger Army. I had never heard them before, but I liked them. I was disappointed though when, like such a name implies, there were no tigers battling, nor any tigers just hanging out, and the only fine feline at the show was me. Meow! I also learned a valuable concert attending lesson. When I go to my next general admission concert, I am going to find a big, fat guy to go with me. Once Morrissey came on stage, people were shoving and pushing to get closer, which to me is acceptable and to be expected at a concert. But when I am standing in a spot and someone decides that is exactly where they want to stand and do it, I get very displaced. I ended up about 20 feet away from my original spot, which didn't bother me. (I'm sure if that had been happening to the wrong person though, fights would have ensued.) I noticed how all the big, fat guys, and the people they were with ended up where they started or where they wanted to stand. This is so obvious, why didn't I think of it sooner? I'm currently taking applications for a big, fat friend who likes to go to concerts.

I've started coaching track for a junior high in Tulsa, and it is my favorite thing to do. Going back to junior high is so entertaining, and even though this is cliche, coaching is a very rewarding experience in several ways. One is watching your athletes improve and grow as runners and persons. Another, is that they are the only people who are still impressed with my past and current running capabilities, and how cool they think I am because of them. Haha, if only they knew what a dork I really am.

Let's tip the scales a bit

I now have a new way to rate my fun level. I am introducing two new criteria to be considered when evaluating how much fun I have. The first is how many beads I end up with around my neck. The second is how closely I interact with a celebrity. Given the fact that I spoke to Afroman on his cell phone and judging by the picture below, I'd say I had some of the most funnest of funs this weekend in Fayetteville. Holla! (This weekend doesn't rate as the most fun ever though, mostly because Afroman isn't really A-list material.)

The very awesome Gooding and the not so gooding

Last night I went to see a band, Gooding, and it turned out they rocked my world. If you ever get the chance to see these boys live, I more than highly recommend it. Now, the not so gooding part: the pictures I took turned out badly because my camera battery was dying.

This is the back of my friend's head while enjoying the show. He gets elevated to superstar status for introducing Gooding to me.


G gives Gooding two thumbs way up. Unfortunately, this was the last picture my batteries had the juice left for. Not that I don't want pictures of G, but my camera died the moment I was getting my picture taken with the band. It's okay though, I am going to see them play in Fayetteville on March 22. I know, I'm such a groupie.

Emotions in a bottle

I just realized this is the second post with "emotion" in the title, but I diverge. I got four new cds yesterday, and I realized that if I had to choose one feeling to feel for the rest of my life, it would be the one I get the moment that I hear a new song that I fall in love with. As the song goes on, I am both happy and satisfied that I am enjoying it and curious and anxious to hear what comes next, and the moment it ends I want to immediately hear it again. I had an assignment in college once where I had to choose one form of art and argue why I thought it was the most important. I chose music, even though I was in a film class and my professor was (and still is) a world famous poet and film director. That feeling is a serene, melancholy, happiness mixed with the right amount of energetic excitement that I thrive on. If I could bottle that feeling, I would become an addict who couldn't drink enough of that sweet stuff.

How did you spend your Monday night?

Oh really? That's great. And how was mine you ask? Well...I just want to make a strong recommendation for all of you NOT trying to annoy your neighbors:

When living in an apartment complex, do not invite your band over to have rehearsal. Especially, when you are in a band that plays Irish folk music really loudly. And further, do not do it from about 8:00-10:00 pm on a Monday night. Scratch that. Do not do it EVER!

Mardi Gras - N'Orleans style in Tulsa

Last night was Fat Tuesday and we went out in what was the last night that smoking was allowed in restaurants in Tulsa (watch out West Coast, the Midwest is catching up). Everyone had fun, except the crawdads. They got eaten.