Jen For You

To all girlfriends: Just for the record, “Burt” is the code word for danger.

I glanced at my refrigerator today admiring the sepia toned photograph of myself and my closest girlfriends. Jenny found a photo from her wedding day with all us October babies in the same frame! What a sweetie! Although, I notice she’s listed each of our birth dates by each of our smiles..I’m 31, Molly and Annabeth are 30, Sam is 27, and Jenny is only 8. Hahahahaha!

While basking in the beauty of all that is Montana, we took a little side road trip to a town called Butte, better named, Butt. Apparently, Butte is known for it’s St. Patrick’s Day celebrations annually hosting a parade, live music, and bars and bars filled with drunken fighting idiots. People come from miles around to participate in the festivities. We awoke SPD morning to a HUGE powder day on the mountain and decided to take advantage of prime riding time before trippin’ up to the Butt. We finally get there super late..blah blah blah…everybody’s like 12 sheets to the wind already…I see a guy who threw up in his beer cup carrying himself out of a bar on our way in…some other guy tries to pick a fight with me over a chair he claims is his and ends up spitting all over me while telling me he’s a farmer and grows my food and I don’t appreciate him (true)…blah blah..his friend offered the chair to us without him knowing and angry spitter guy ends up punching his own friend in the face twice…his friend is sooo drunk that he LAUGHS it off…and angry spitter gets kicked out…I’m guessing he died because he was so drunk there was NO way he found his way home that night. Okay, so we get through the night, Curtis and I have a small disagreement about transportation back to the hotel…we can’t sleep because the under-agers in the room next to ours are having a rager…we call the front desk..they come down, kids quiet for 3 seconds…back to partying. We call, they come, kids quiet 3 seconds..LOUD! Call, come, quiet, LOUD LOUD LOUD!!! Fighting errupts next door, Curtis takes matters into his own hands (in his pajamas) and finds some cops that were already in the hotel…it was like a zoo that night…cops come down, arrest 2 kids, let the others stay. (4:30am-ish) Morning comes and the remaining neighbors are LOUD LOUD again! We go to the front desk, demand a free room..GRANTED..no charge! YAY! Find breakfast…tour the town. Lot’s of copper mining history and big BIG holes left behind everywhere!

Here’s my favorite:

If you can’t tell, that’s a giant hole behind us, and clearly the best place to view lice in town!!!

A Lice Viewing Area

Welcome to the asshole of America.  I will never go back.

You know those new Burger King mini burgers that women oogle over in commercials? Well while Curtis and I arrived in the SEA/TAC airport on our way to Montana, we had just enough time to run down to the BK and pick some up! I drag Curtis to the burger stop and we wait in a super long line for our turn to order, and as we wait, I don’t notice any new promo or menu item for the super cute new tiny burgers. I figure I’ll at least ask. This is how it went:
Jen: Hi. Do you have those new tiny burgers? You know, the one’s from the commercials?
Asian BK lady: We have bugag!
Jen: yes. Do you have the new tiny burgers? The really small ones?
ABKL: yeah! We have bugahs! Smaw bugah, beeg bugah, we sew bugah hewe! Dis bugah pwace!! (gesturing with her hands the round shape of a burger)
Jen: I understand. But what I’m really looking for is the tiny version of the whopper! (gesturing a much smaller circle with my hands, signifying a tiny, round burger) do you sell that?
ABKL: We sew bugah!! Wha you whan, lady!?
Curtis: oh my gosh, Jen. Let’s just go. (This is @&*#ing America! Why don’t you speak English?! I bet you’ve lived in this country longer than I’ve been alive, burger lady! This is NOT worth it. I just got back from Korea where they speak better English than you!)
Jen: Curtis, we’ll still order something! I’m not leaving empty handed after all this.
We order our REGULAR burgers and proceed as scheduled to our next gate for Montana, totally deflated. These burgers definitely don’t taste as victorious as the tiny ones would have.

I’m just going to come right out and say it, I hit Carol Comeaux in the face with my backpack. Not on purpose or anything, I didn’t even realize it until Curtis informed me a few rows past her seat on the airplane. We were boarding to leave the ANC airport, on our way to Montana for a ski vacation. I was wearing my heli-pack as my carry-on and apparently, I am unaware that it extends the depth of my body by like, 2 times. We were walking through first class (bastards) and I spied a wedding gown and tuxedo tucked in the first class coat closet. Eeeee! My face immediately lit up with excitement and when I turned (not slowly) to tell Curtis what I just saw, I whacked Carol Comeaux right in the face!

….okay, so the enitre Valentine’s Day, Curtis worked sooo hard to keep with the theme of 3.  Together 3 years, groupings of 3 roses, 3 eggs, 3,3,3, all day long!  Well, at the end of the day, Curtis surprises me with a beautiful, romantic dinner for two at Crush, our favorite little wine bar and bistro.  The place is done up with candlelight, rose petals, and a very special 3 (ha!) course dinner complete with champagne and wine pairing.  We drink our way through the courses, nibbling here and there on our food (but totally focusing on the drinking) and the dessert course arrives.  I leave to use the loo, and upon my return, I’m presented with a delicious fig and cheese plate drizzled with honey and garnished with a secret ‘3′ written in a fruit sauce.  Being that I am, well, ME I begin devouring the delectible raspberry sauce without any hesitation.  I look up to Curtis’ face and realize there is something wrong.  What?  Is there food on my face?  Did I say something to offend him?  His look changes from initial shock to laughter instantly (due to my apparent obliviousness) and I soon realize I’ve missed his super-sneeky grand finale to the dinner date, and when I was in the bathroom, he asked the server to drizzle the sauce in the shape of a ‘3′ to signify our 3 beautiful years together as a couple.  I guess some things never change.  I hope you can get use to this, Curtis.  This isn’t the first time I’ve missed something so obvious and I’m sure it won’t be the last.  I love you!  Thank you for trying so hard even with the smallest of details.

So, Valentine’s Day.  Usually a day dedicated to too many men frantically panicing over what to do for their sweetie on this ridiculous “holiday”.  My sweetie, on the other hand, planned every detail to the ‘T’ without any fraction of (funny side note: so Curtis just asked me where the ‘Jew salt’ went and I was like, ‘Huh?  Where the juice all went?’  and he threw his hand on his hip like a woman and was like, ‘No…the JEW salt!’ and then I laughed so hard I spit on the computer screen a little bit just now.) Back to my story…so without any fraction of a sweat, Curtis seamlessly planned a beautiful day full of surprises just to my liking.  First, he burned me the best breakfast EVER!  He woke me with a grouping of 3 red roses (symbolizing 3 years of our existence as a couple…V-Day is kind ouf our anniversary…cliche, I know..but I totally don’t care!) bound together with little pink ribbon.  He instructed me not to enter the kitchen until I was called upon, so I snuggled in bed a few minutes longer and hopped in a quick shower in the hopes that if anything REALLY special were to happen during brecky, I’d at least look decent. (and yes, Jenny, I considered not showering and taking my chances having Muppet hair because YOU had to get engaged on a stinky fish boat wearing cammo and glasses…and I though it not fair to you…and then I decided, screw it, your moment’s over lady…this is MY day, and I wanna be CLEEEEAN!)  Anyway, I got all clean and actually had enough time to dry my hair and put on a little makeup before Curtis called me out to the dining room.  He arranged the table with white linens, red rose petals, and a very special martini glass with strawberries and cream waiting at my seat.  I realized what was taking him so long, because I noticed the remnants of egg rejects lying on a discard plate next to the range.  Apparently, he was practicing making eggs over-easy on his new cast iron skillet and a few practice runs were necessary.  Looking a little flustered by it all, I offered him my assistance, as I noticed black smoke billowing from the oven.  He had used the oven to ’speed-toast’ six pieces of bread and clearly had forgotten how quickly bread burns under a hot broiler.  I immediately swing the oven door open and dump the charred remains of our love toast.  The room immediately fills with smoke and, of course to follow is the delightful chime of the fire alarm…mind you, we live in an apartment complex, so time is of the essence! We definitely don’t want to set off the buildings sprinkler system, so speedily, we open all the outside windows/door and waft out the bad smoke….laughing the entire time!

Once the madness subsides, we sit down to a much needed breakfast together, congratulating one another on great team work, and thus, the day continues with no further alarm…or that extra special surprise I’ve been waiting for my whole life.

When Jenny’s Dad checks me out, he’s usually riding his motorcycle and spies me cruising in my shiny foreign car, stares a while until I notice he is lurking, and upon finally realizing I’m his daughter’s BFF, he awkwardly waves hello and takes-off at an alarming speed, attempting to dodge embarrassment at all cost.

A world of gratitude to my technical guru, Miss Molly SuperWife, for so expediently and successfully setting up my OFFICIAL web page! YAY! I’m finally in touch with the rest of the world!!!!!