Food Mountain

I guess I am not going to get back to talking about my trip to Tucson. Maybe because some dark and terrible thing happened there that I cannot speak of. Or more likely because I just don’t feel like it for some reason. Feel free to make up whatever stories about my trip that you want. And if you wanted to send those stories to me, that would be pretty cool too.

 

I decided that I wanted to tell you about the first time I drank in public. It was at a work function, which is always the best time to test your alcohol tolerance. And I had not really done too much drinking before then.

 

We were staying overnight at a hotel and the teambuilding of the night before was like 40 fucking rounds of putt putt golf. I am not even exaggerating on that one. Plus it was hot as balls outside so I was already miserable. And I hate golf.

 

One of my co-workers, R, is a bit of a party guy and he disappeared before the event even started and came back with a hurricane. When he left and came back with his second one I decided that I wanted to taste it. To my surprise it did not taste like hairspray (margaritas), paint thinner (any hard liquor), or bitter wheat vomit (beer) like all the other alcohol I had tried.

I even got a fancy glass to take home that I still drink out of

 

So I ordered a hurricane for myself. I drank about half of it before I felt much of anything. By then I was two holes in the putt putt game and was teamed with 3 people I did not know at all. They were boring the hell out of me and talking about work bull shit.

 

When that hurricane hit me, I realized I was fucking starving. I hadn’t eaten anything in 7 hours, and then it had only been a salad. I stopped one of the people that worked there and asked “Isn’t there food somewhere around here?”

 

She pointed vaguely to the other side of the mini golf course. “You have to play through to get to the food.”

 

I set down my putter and golf ball and replied “No thanks, I’m hungry now. And as an adult, I’ll eat when I want to.” And I set off across the putting course. I have zero patience for being told what to do, and I was really very hungry.

 

I managed to walk through about 6 or 7 other groups that actually cared about finishing the game. But I didn’t care. All I wanted was food. I was on a quest. A quest to food mountain.

 

After about 10 minutes I found some weird fish taco station. And I was pissed! I hate fish. I wanted real food. I asked the woman  that was manning the station, “Is this the only food?”

 

She laughed and pointed again, even farther away from where we were. “I think there are burgers over there somewhere.”

 

By this point, the alcohol was hitting me HARD. I felt really silly and relaxed and warm. I ran into my boss. He tried to talk to me but I stopped him. “Sorry, I’m busy trying to find some mythical burgers.” I didn’t even wait for his response. I was on a mission.

 

But the burgers were nowhere to be found. None of the other teams had seen them. Nobody seemed to know anything about them. I was wandering around this huge putting course, lost and semi drunk asking people about hamburgers. Luckily, everyone knows I am weird as fuck and I don’t think anyone really thought much of my behavior.

 

And then, I saw them…. It was food mountain! The legends were true!

 

They were up on a platform under a heating lamp. The red light was like a beacon in the night, drawing me in like a moth. I raced up the steps with excitement. I could already taste that sweet burger meat.

 

I was alone. Alone with a mountain of mini burgers and a pan of french fries. This was my own little private heaven. I made two triple burgers and filled a tray with fries.

Basically

 

 

And then, for some reason, I decided I needed to find R. So I wandered back through everyone trying to play through the course and fended off their vulturous attempts to eat my food. I was doing fake karate chops and telling people how to get to food mountain themselves.

 

It didn’t take long to find R. I’m not sure how many drinks he’d had by that point, but he was very loud.  I finished my food and then had a brilliant idea.

 

The week before R and I had gotten into an argument about my flexibility. He didn’t believe I could touch my toes to my forehead and it was not something I was willing to do at work. But at a work function, after half a hurricane, I was more than willing.

 

So I sat down and said, “Give me a minute, I don’t normally do this with pants on.” And proceeded to show him that I could totally touch my toes to my forehead. (I do yoga and it really isn’t that hard). R laughed and took a pic and admitted that I was right and he was wrong.

This

 

And then I went to find my original group. But I was so turned around I decided to go back to the beginning and follow the course through till I found them.

 

Unfortunately, there was an ice cream station at the beginning of the course. And there was no way I wasn’t stopping at that thing. I decided it was too hot for ice cream so instead I talked the guy manning the station into giving me a mouthful of hot fudge and then an ice cream bowl full of mini m&m’s and sprinkles. It was amazingly delicious.

Candy mountain!

 

 

I never found my group and so just waited there at the end of the course, eating candy and sprinkles until my co-workers made it through. By the time they arrived R had shown everyone the picture of my flexibility stunt.


But they were mostly too drunk to remember. A bunch of other fun things happened that night but I feel like this story is long enough.

Walkin’ in Memphis

This is a two part story about the only vacation I have ever taken with my family. This happened when I was 25 or so. I was between heart surgeries and living in the old apartment.

 

My father, sister, J, and brother, T, all took a drive. My father owned part of a mountain in Arkansas. There was a house on it, and we weren’t sure if his ex girlfriend was still in it or not. He also had a full storage unit that needed clearing out.

 

But we decided to have a little fun on the way up and stop in Tennessee to visit Memphis before we went to Arkansas. My father had some money as his mother had fairly recently died. My brother and sister were both in between jobs. And I hadn’t taken a vacation in several years due to my heart surgeries.

 

My father drove the entire way from Florida to Memphis. We left on a Friday after I got home from work. We were all supposed to sleep while he drove and then be refreshed Saturday morning for Memphis. But I have terrible insomnia under ideal situations. And my father’s driving is far from ideal.

 

Unsurprisingly, I could not relax enough to sleep. So I stayed awake and talked to my father. I was convinced that if I just kept vigil then he couldn’t wreck and kill us all. And he didn’t, so I can only assume I was right.

 

We got to Memphis Saturday morning and took showers and immediately went out to explore the city. I hadn’t slept in about 27 hours by that point. We had breakfast at the closest place to our hotel. It was directly across the trolley tracks.

 

The restaurant was called the Blue Plate Cafe. It was adorable inside. We were served with a big basket of all you can eat biscuits to go with our meal. Now, many of you know that I like to cook. And I am a good cook. And I make excellent biscuits. But these biscuits made mine seem like hockey pucks. I took some home and had them cold later in the day and they were still fantastic.

Just looking at them makes my mouth water

 

Then we took the trolley down to Beale St. This was long before I started drinking. And it was still early in the morning. So we explored the shops. Trolley rides were a dollar and some of the cars were so old and cool.

 

I was obsessed with riding them

 

That song was stuck in my head the whole time I was in Memphis.

 

I ate ribs for lunch and dinner every day we were in Memphis. They were delicious every place we went. My father even ate them and he doesn’t eat pork.

Photo-0039

This is one of my favorite pictures of me. No sleep and in a head shop looking at penis candles.

 

We of course drove past Graceland. And saw the Martin Luther King museum that was built at the hotel where he was shot and killed.

Photo-0077

That white dude is my brother.

 

Every night we went down to Beale St and everyone got drunk (except me) and had a great time. As you know, my family gets on VERY well we we are all drinking.

 

But the best thing we saw was the Belz museum. It was our last day in Memphis and I had wanted to go to the Cotton Museum (I love any kind of museum about pretty much anything) but tickets were just too expensive. As we were wandering the city we happened upon the Belz museum.

 

 

Go there!

 

My family is Jewish and the combination of Asian and Judaic art was pretty much irresistible to us. Also, it seemed like a bizarre combination.

Four foot high semi precious stone carved horses.

 

This museum was incredible. If you are in Tennessee and don’t visit then you are only cheating yourself. I literally gasped at some of the pieces on display there.

Carved mammoth tusk

 

Memphis was a friendly and fun city. However, Arkansas was our next stop and we were going to find it very different from Memphis. In my next post.

 

Photo-0058

I love this piece so much

 

Getting High

As a young child I was always trying to find some way to get high. I think we all did the things I am going to describe. As an adult I have alcohol and prescription drugs. But as a child, you have to use more natural methods. And I tried a lot of them.

 

I would stand with my arms spread wide and look up at the sky and spin around and around until I couldn’t spin anymore. Then I would try to walk around, stumbling and laughing.

Like this but less romantic-y.

 

When my older sister, W, would bring her boyfriends home, they would pick us up by our hands and swing us around in circles. In retrospect, my parents probably should not have let them do that. Especially to my sister, J, who had a habit of getting her shoulder dislocated. It just sounds dangerous. But we were surprisingly never injured.

How is this safe?

 

As an adult, before I started drinking, I had read this article and decided to try a few of the methods described.

 

I had already experienced the ‘high’ of not eating for several days back in high school. I used to do that all the time. It definitely works. But I wouldn’t recommend it as it is very unhealthy and potentially dangerous.

 

I also had experienced the high of sleep deprivation many times in my life. I have always had chronic insomnia from as far back as I can remember. I have gone days without sleep. At some point, once I pushed past that robotic zombie stage, I did start to hallucinate. Like serious, mostly scary, hallucinations. Again, it is not something I would recommend. Especially if you drive.

 

 

I have tried taking baths with Clary Sage essential oils. It did put me in a heightened state of relaxation beyond that of just taking a warm bath. I still do it from time to time because I like the calming quality of it.

 

I also do meditate. It helps me to relax at night before sleeping. Sometimes I have meditated for hours at a time. I have had several very unusual meditative experiences that I will describe sometime. When I can figure out how to talk about them without sounding like a total kook.

 

But none of those highs compare to this thing I used to do with my friend M, and sister J when we were kids.

 

We would stand with our backs against a wall and bend forward, as though we were trying to touch our toes (something I have only been able to do in the last few years thanks to yoga).We would breathe rapidly and deeply for a few minutes.

Exactly like this but breathing really heavily.

 

Then we would stand up suddenly and hold our breaths. This never worked for me for weeks and weeks of trying. And then one day M put her hands around my throat. I don’t know if it was the pressure or the restriction of air. But it worked.

 

It worked so well that sometimes I would lose consciousness. I really enjoyed doing it until one time I lost consciousness, fell down, and hit my head on the door handle and almost gave myself a concussion.

 

I refused to try it again after that.

 

Did anyone else do these things? Are there things you did to get high that I am not mentioning?

 

Gin and Tonic

I think I am going to need to buy a new laptop. Remember when I dropped it that time? Well, the power cord is loose now but I’ll just put it off until it completely stops working altogether and buy a new one in a frenzied, angry panic. Good plan.

 

I’m one of those people that has a very strong stomach for talking about gross things, or even doing gross things. But a very weak stomach for actual food.

 

I’m going to tell you guys right now; I hate junipers. I hate them. I hate them in any plant form that exists. I wish I had some horrible experience to blame my irrational hatred of them on. But I don’t. My granny had two giant ones in her front yard when we were growing up. And I hated them even as a small child.

Ugh. Look at this stupid fucking thing.

Now I have a reason to hate them.

 

Gin is made from juniper berries. I have always thought gin and tonics were very classy despite an interesting night I had with my sister J with them. But I had never tried one up till last night. And I was pretty convinced I would not like it. Because of my juniper hatred.

 

So last night I pour myself this gin and tonic. I carefully sniffed at the mini bottle of gin before pouring it into my glass. It smelled like juniper and I think my mind rebelled a little. But I was determined to try it.

It wasn’t this brand but look at this classy shit. I don’t even like lemon in my water.

I want to be classy, dammit! I want to be one of those people that eats linguine with clam sauce and drinks martinis, and always looks put together. I want glossy hair and clothes that flatter me and actual knowledge on doing makeup. And to me a gin and tonic is right up there with all the classy foods.

Just classy as fuck.

Foods I wind up not liking because I am not classy. I like fried chicken and barbeque and tacos. I wear men’s t-shirts my brother and I pull from the dumpster and jeans and sandals that I think make me look like a lesbian but I wear them anyway.

Get in my mouth!

But I try.

 

I took one sip of that gin and tonic and gagged. Not one to be deterred by a little thing like a gag reflex, I went to the kitchen, stood over the sink (just in case) and took another sip. I gagged again. You guys know I have an iron will and determination.

 

So I said, “You will NOT throw this up. You WILL drink this.”

 

I took another sip. And I threw up in the sink.


I poured the rest of that horrid drink down the drain and had a strawberry lime Rekorderlig instead. It was delicious and got the taste of failure and vomit right out of my mouth. They’re welcome to use that if they’re looking for a new slogan.

This is like alcoholic fruit soda.

Once again, my taste buds have prevented me from the classy lifestyle that is waiting just behind eating and drinking the right things. Apparently.

Say it With Goats

My sister, J, came down this week for vacation so I am busy eating BBQ, watching horror movies, and drinking with her. I am having a blast so far!

I am in baby back rib heaven. Which is basically my regular heaven.

But I wanted to take a moment to discuss a pretty serious matter with you. Anyone that reads my blog should definitely also be reading Aussa’s blog.

 

She is getting married and we are all so happy for her! And we thought the best way to express our happiness was with goats.

 

So Leah came up with the idea to buy her goat plushies. Then I decided to bombard her with goat plushies because you should say everything with goats.

See: Goat

Now there is an Amazon Wish List that you can go to. The goats will be sent to me and I will send them to her. You know you guys want to be involved in this!

Surprisingly, I couldn’t find a goat skull on Amazon. What the hell, Amazon?

If we send her enough goats she may be able to stitch them into a wedding dress. You don’t want her wearing some boring old white dress, do you?

Picture this, but all goats.

But wait, there’s more. Debbie then came up with the most amazing, brilliant, kind idea in existence. Which should not surprise anyone that reads her blog as she is one of the most amazing, brilliant and kind people in existence.

 

Click on the link above to help her fulfill her super secret mission. Click on the Amazon Wish List link to bombard Aussa with goats. Click on the link to Leah to read her lies about my sexiness. And click on the link to Aussa because you love yourself and deserve to read her blog.


I’ll be back in a few days with more stories. And happy goating!