Go Pack Go!

Sometime not too long after sunrise on Sunday, October 17th — The Day of Our Lord — this happened:

What you see above is a group of grown-up, professional, respectable men shotgunning beers at 9am.

Yeeeee-HAW.

Welcome to Wisconsin!

It was Uncle A's bright idea, of course. He's full of 'em.

That morning we woke up at 5:30 am, drove from Oshkosh to Green Bay, and tailgated in the parking lot of a sleazy motel that was forgiven for its sleaziness because it was situated smack-dab next to Lambeau Field.

We ate junk and drank beer. It was great fun.



After Dr P gave me the grand Alabama Crimson Tide Experience, it was fitting that he should see how we Packer fans do things.

Who am I kidding? This was my first Packer game too. I had no idea how "we Packer fans do things" either. I didn't even know the name of our quarterback until a few days prior.

I'm pathetic.

The whole Packer experience was very different from a Browns or Alabama game, that's for sure. People were very friendly, much like Alabama fans (and Browns fans too!) (HA!) but more ... um ... Wisconsinish?

Burlier. Harrier. Heftier. Amen.

And there were no pleated khakis or polos in sight, God bless 'em.

La skipped around and played while we tailgated. By the time we left the parking lot, every one of those orange ribbons (photo below) that blocked off the area where we tailgated were tied into pretty little bows, courtesy of La.

She's a delightful child.



Here's the group of us Cheeseheads outside Lambeau Field.



And then we drank more beer, ate more junk, and watched the game.

Despite our cheers, the Pack lost. It was a bummer. But it was a great experience that I'll never forget.

Joel + Tami

Two weekends ago Dr P flew into town and we piled in Aunt M's car and drove up to Oshkosh, Wisconsin for my cousin Joel's wedding.

La was the flower girl.

She was angelic in the gorgeous gown that Granny Lin hand-made just for the occasion.

Granny Lin is very talented. She's also a procrastinator. (Runs in the family) She finished the hem in the car on the way to Wisconsin. I hope she wasn't the one driving.

Grandma Fern and Grandpa Cal were there, of course. I know the photo below is very grainy, but you can plainly see that Fern is a smokin'-hot babe and that Cal is a stud.

Goodness Grams, you hot mama! I don't think I've ever seen you sport cleavage like that before. You should definitely do it more often.

Whenever La has a big job to do, like being a flower girl, she really gets her head in the game. Her sense of humor vanishes. There's no messing around. She's ALL business. She walked down the aisle with an expression that said, "Concentrate. Concentrate. Concentrate."

It was adorable.

My cousin Joel had a similar expression on his face.

Also adorable.

And man, oh man. The bride, Tami, was ever so stunning.

For some reason I didn't take any photos at the reception, but I assure you it was a fantastic time. The highlight of the evening was when they opened up the mic after dinner to anyone who had a nice story to share about Joel and Tami.

My brother, Uncle A, who has no shame, got up there and told the room full of unsuspecting guests about "that one time when Joel got wasted and ended up on all-fours the next morning puking in the bushes at the Country Club."

Ha. Ha ha. .... Um.

*Crickets*

(Aar, I thought your story was funny!)

You see, Joel is as straight-laced as they come. He is not the type who gets wasted. I've never seen him drunk before. Nor is he the type who yaks in the bushes at the country club.

Except for that ooone time yeeeeeears ago when he did precisely that.

And poor Joel had the misfortune of not only ralphing in the bushes at the club, but also of having my brother as his sole witness, who would years later stand up and spill the beans to everyone in attendance at his wedding.

And now the story is forever recorded on the Internet. Whoopsies!

Joel and Tami, you are both beautiful, warm, brainy, extraordinary people, and are so clearly meant for one another. I am so happy that you found each other.

Congratulations!

Big Cheese

Man, we've been busy lately. Doing what, I couldn't tell ya. I'll fill you in when I remember.

For now, I'll just inform you that La and I have recently become the proud owners of a bona-fide cheesehead, straight from Lambeau Field.

How 'bout that?

... More details to come soon. I promise! ... I think.

Kittywampus

Well, it's certainly not as bad as any of my elementary school class photos. But it's not great either.

If I would have made left bun higher than her right bun, her hair would have gone better with her sideways smile.

Oh well, there's always next year!

Run!

This morning we took a stroll down the block to grab some laundry detergent from Walgreens, but were sidetracked by that little marathon thingy that was going on at the end of our street.

(Notice La's bangs? Those were inflicted upon her by herself, using a pair of safety scissors. I was pretty peeved, but at least she didn't pull one of these numbers!)

Every time I watch a marathon, I spend the entire time weeping quietly and pretending it's because I have an eyelash in my eye.

Is that weird?

There's just something about thousands of people from all over the world gathering together to push their bodies to the limits while perfect strangers cheer them on that just gets me. It's almost spiritual.

I know. I'm a sap. I also cry at Hallmark commercials.

La loved it just as much as I did. She told me that she could sit and watch those runners all day long.

Guess what she wants to be when she grows up? A marathon runner. Talk about a vast improvement from last week's "Tattoo Artist."

She asked for a pen from my purse and made a spur-of-the-moment motivational sign for the runners.

I think they liked it.

What an inspirational way to start our day.

An Impromptu Dinner Date

On the way home from school today, visions of a big green salad and a side of quinoa that I was going to make for dinner were dancing through my head. But then La said, "Let's go to Stella's!" And I said, "Okey doke!"

Stella's Diner is a traditional American Diner. Except with avocado. Which makes it healthy? ... Sort of? ... I think?

Anyway, it's delicious and cheap. Sign me up!

La ordered the Chicken Finger plate and I ordered a big juicy avocado cheeseburger.

I gave La half of my burger, and she gave me one chicken finger. ONE. STINKING. FINGER. Leaving her with like, seven. Because she was sooooooooooooooooooooooooo hungry MOM!

The kid wasn't lying. She ate every dang bite. Half of my burger, all of her chicken, most of her fries, half of my fruit, and even a gigantic chocolate milkshake.

(The owner of the restaurant is hilarious and loves kids. La thinks he's weird. I think he's neat.)

That's a lot for her little belly.

Turns out it's a little TOO much for her little belly, and our casual stroll waddle home swiftly turned into me clutching La in my arms and sprinting like a madwoman. (Think Heisman Trophy but replace the football with La's little bod. WATCHOUT! Chick means business.)

Thank goodness I wore flats to work today.

Always an adventure with my La. It's why I keep her around. She makes life exciting.

A First Time for Everything

Ah, the south. I'm beginning to love it there.

Last Friday I flew to Birmingham after work, with the sole purpose of attending the Alabama/Florida game the next day. I sat next to a lovely couple from Tuscaloosa (that's where the University is). They were very informative. Being the eve of a huge game with one of their biggest rivals, every single person on that plane was jacked up with Alabama pride. There were cheers and hoots and laughter and high spirits all around. And more pleated khakis and red polos than I'd ever seen in one place at one time.

Festive!

Alabama boys love their pleats, their polos and their blue-tinted mirrored sunglasses, amen.

They also love the houndstooth pattern. It has something to do with a coach they once had and a hat he wore, I think. Anyway, I (not being one for details) thought houndstooth and herringbone were one-in-the-same, and I wore a herringbone vest to the game. Which would have been fine in any other situation, except these people KNOW their houndstooth. And they could tell that I tried to be like them, but didn't quite know what the hell I was doing.

Oh well.

Now I know that houndstooth looks like this and herringbone looks like this.

None of that mattered though, because there was lots and lots of beer. And we could walk around outside with it and everything.

Isn't Alabama cool?

I'm thinking the above photo was an accident considering my finger is covering part of the lens and the subject matter were half a beer can and my one little red shoe from the Gap clearance rack. (BY THE WAY, Gap redid their logo, and all I have to say is WUT IN THE WUT?! Helvetica? For real? That designer was smoking something fo sho.)

Dr P did a great job of showing me the sights of his alma mater.

The stadium was enormous.

As was the crowd of tailgaters ...

And the stadium was packed to the gills.

It was all great fun. I can't wait to do it again.

Mad for Mikey

La has library every Wednesday at school. She gets to pick out one book to check out each week. Her selections usually range from Fancy Nancy to the Berenstain Bears to books about science and nature. This Wednesday when I picked her up at school, she was proud to show off her pick of the week. Yes. Really. It's titled, Michael Jackson — The One And Only. The book depicts his various stages of life from the beginnings of the Jackson Five to his death. She's obsessed. She keeps asking me questions like, "Mom, do you LOVE Michael Jackson? Because I LOVE Michael Jackson." and "What's your favorite Michael Jackson song? Is it A, B, C? Because that's mine and I LOVE IT SOOOO MUCH." or "Mom, can you do that Thriller dance again?" It's getting out of control. The best question came when she flipped to the back of the book where there were photos of Michael taken in 2007—a stark contrast to the photos in the beginning of the book. La took one look at the Michael of the late 2000s and asked, "Is that his wife?" Love it.