Red Flag My Ass!

My folks were passing through Lansing today on their way to Soaring Eagle, and as is usual, they stopped in town for a meal. I suggested Soup to Nutz in Lansing, as the brunch is usually really good and the atmosphere is comfortable. Sheryl, Mike, Runs with Spatula and Corky joined in, as they have gotten to know Rose and Hal over the last few years. After enjoying a good brunch and some amusing conversation (note to self: explore the idea of a website where you get to suggest people you think may be the Missing Link between neanderthals and modern man...), we headed out. Everyone had missions or errands except me and Sheryl, I discovered. So, I proposed a trip to Lake Michigan. In true Sheryl fashion, she was up for the adventure.

The trip to Grand Haven State Park was uneventful. We found a parking spot quickly and close to the beach, which we found out was quite the stroke of luck. We walked up toward the beach, and read the sign declaring the conditions for the day: water temperature was 73 degrees (yahoo!) and the swimming conditions were considered red. Red? Reading further: green meant swimming was safe, yellow meant to take caution, and red meant no swimming. No swimming? To drive almost two hours to such a beautiful lake and not swim?!? Sheryl and I looked out toward the water at throngs of people playing in the waves, looked at each other, and said, "Fuck it!" We headed down, and found a great spot where a family was leaving for the day, putting us in what can only be described as the front row of the beach. We set our stuff up (a ridiculous amount for two people, really), and headed into the water.

We quickly discovered the red flag was due to nearly three-foot waves crashing in. So, we made our way out fairly far and started jumping! Waves kept crashing into us, and we kept jumping into them. There's nothing quite like being slammed in the chest by a white-capped wave - it just makes me laugh, and I get that feeling of being a kid again. Sheryl's fascination of being in the water easily matches my own, and we spent the next two hours chatting, swallowing water, laughing and people watching - not a care in the world and no inclination to go home. We even got to enjoy a little rain shower while playing in the waves! We finally headed to shore and discovered that being out where we were wasn't nearly the workout that people were getting by being closer to shore. It took forever to walk up to the beach with the waves breaking all around. The rain picked up quite a bit, and we decided to call it a day and head back home. We decided to stop for a quick bite to each before hitting the expressway, and swung into Butch's Beach Burritos near the beach. It was an interesting place, serving burritos, tacos and hot dogs. For some reason, though the food wasn't fantastic, it certainly hit the spot. We continued home, and while I have the barest sunburn on my chest and sand caked in my toenails and clumpy, sandy hair, I wouldn't have traded the day for anything.

Why?

I've had a few conversations lately about technology - blogging, twittering / tweeting, social networking sites - that have given me a chance to think about why I blog. I started a little over a year ago as a way to keep track of what I was doing and thinking. I thought it might be interesting to revisit and have a sort of living history of myself. I know I could just as easily write in a journal, but typing is so much easier. And having this hanging out in the blogosphere means that I should always be able to find it, and it's not likely to end up being damaged. The central point I keep coming back to is that I do this for myself. I understand that it gives people the opportunity to know more about me and my experiences, which is a bonus. But really, if nobody ever read this thing, I would keep up with it.

And here's why... My uncle died a little over a year ago. July 21, to be exact. I wrote an entry the next evening. I just revisited that entry tonight. I have been avoiding it since the anniversary of his death, knowing it would likely stir up a lot of emotions. And it did. So, again with tears streaming down my face, but without the whiskey (for now...), I sit here reflecting about why I do what I do, and how I miss my family that have died. I remember visiting my grandma and grandpa's graves once. It took a good three years before I would do it, and I haven't been back. They died in 1996. It's not a lack of respect I don't think. I miss them, and I think about them often. I have awesome and abundant memories of them, as growing up having them in the same town allowed so much interaction. But I have never found comfort at the cemetery. Oddly, I found a great deal of comfort reading that old blog post this evening. So apparently there's more than one reason I blog...

More Travels: Sights and Sounds in WV

My Memorial weekend was a little bit different this year. I headed down to Oak Hill, West Virginia for a bit of camping and whitewater rafting. I drove down with Angela, which was an adventure in and of itself. I'm an habitual over-packer when it comes to camping, and while it's a problem I've been working on for some time, I'm not quite where I'd like to be. So, we started off the first morning cramming more stuff into my Equinox than theoretically should have fit, complete with attempting to hold stuff from falling out of the car while attempting to slam the door in the nick of time. We finally hit the road and had a great drive down - thanks to Angela's fine navigation skills, we managed to stop at Sonic near Columbus for lunch. It was my first Sonic experience, and it makes me really wish we had one here. There's just something about tater tots that I can't resist... We made it safely to Oak Hill despite the incredible winding roads through the mountains. I was glad to have driven knowing I would have been horribly carsick otherwise!

We took a little excursion to drive to a waterfall that Mike had visited on a previous trip. The waterfall played into my obsession with all things water, and I took a chance to play with my camera's settings, messing around with apertures, shutter speeds, lighting and angles. Next time, I should remember to bring the User's Manual. I still haven't corrected the settings completely!

The waterfall and a picture of my favorite rock.

I think this is the camping trip where I cooked the least. All meals were provided on the day we rafted, and we decided to check out Mike's recommendations for some of the best barbecue ever at Dirty Ernie's. The food at Ernie's was incredible - Mike wasn't lying! The ribs fell off the bones, and Angela and Eric had both ordered a sweet potato on the side that came with the most amazing spiced butter ever. The atmosphere was fun and interesting, with dollar bills decorated graffiti-style stapled to the wall (yep - we left one there, too!) and t-shirts and flags from all over the country hanging with pride. I was pleased to see a shirt from my Alma Mater made it down there - nothing like a little Wayne State Pride in rural West Virginia!

Go Warriors, formerly known as the Tartars! The Angelas (left, my driving buddy) at Dirty Ernie's.

We also couldn't resist breakfast at Biscuit World! Angela and I passed one and almost stopped then and there, foolishly under the assumption that it was a one-time chance to enter an entire world of biscuits. To our surprise, it's quite the chain! There was one near the town where we were staying, and we ventured there to see just how good it was, and were not disappointed in the least.

Mmmm...biscuits and sausage gravy - all kinds of fantastic!

We had a blast at the Red Dog River Saloon. How convenient to have a saloon at base camp! The rafting trip included two tokens for beer at the saloon, which was where we got to watch the rafting video. Angela and I wandered up there one of the nights to see what was going on, and ended up chatting up the waitress and doing some serious people watching, whilst listening to a pretty decent cover band. We watched an incredibly inebriated lady for quite a while. She was the topic of conversation to be sure, and I'm surprised she didn't fall down the side of the mountain (which is actually a concern there!). We also played pool with Duane Cochrane. No, you shouldn't know who he is. But that's just how folks in the south introduce themselves apparently - first and last name. I wouldn't think it would be a big deal, but the fact that it stuck out to me like a sore thumb made me realize how much more casual we are north of the Mason-Dixon.

The crew with our guide, Eric, and the giant cock and one of the Angelas riding said giant cock...

Angela refraining from motor-boating the mermaid.

Feelin' the Love...

I took a mental health day away from work the other day. During an extended six-week shutdown at the plant, I was contractually unable to take any vacation time, which meant missing my usual week off in July. It's not as if I've never gone six weeks without a vacation day. I do that regularly. But the fact that I couldn't take a day off, and didn't get my usual time off during July made the six weeks seem excruciatingly long. So, the plant started back up on Monday with little fanfare, but with a lot of people happy to see each other. I woke up on Tuesday and just couldn't quite motivate myself to go into work, so I called in healthy and took a day to just relax. And it was a fantastic day - a few loads of laundry, lunch out, CSA pickup, swimming, a visit from Sheryl and a great dinner (pork with pineapple-basil-jalapeno salsa) drastically improved my mood.

I went back to work on Wednesday and found these precious love notes on my monitor:


They read:
"Hey - What's the matter w/you - don't you like us no more? You are missed by somebody."
"Hi Sweetie, Stopped by to give you some LIP."
"Really- I just need a a pen. Thanks."

I know who they are from, and I was not the least bit surprised. Amused, yes. The discussion about my love notes was quickly followed by me being chastised by Dirt Dave. Apparently, going forward, I need to let him and our buddy, Tom, know that I'm not going to be at work so that it's not such a startling adjustment for them. They apparently kept looking at each other, commenting, "It's just weird without her here!" Sometimes I just love being the only woman in a office with a bunch of men...

Toronto...Part Deux

June saw another trip to Toronto. This time, Spatula and I took off on a Thursday after work to head to the great province of Ontario. It was an eventful trip as always, complete with Michael Jackson stealing Farrah Fawcett's thunder (one text and one phone call before we hit Port Huron - thanks Corky and Kirk!), Bubba Kegs of Lambrusco, too many characters to mention, awesome food and even better company.

What made the trip really special was that it happened to fall during Toronto's Gay Pride Week. We had no idea when we booked the trip, and were amused at the prospect of the sights and sounds of Pride. Note to self: going to Toronto during Pride with one of your girls automatically means you must be a lesbian, especially if you prefer comfortable shoes like I do (I'd rather have my feet look cute out of my shoes than me feet look cute in my shoes, if you know what I mean - no hammer toes for this girl!) or have a spikey bob like Spatula (even though to me it's not the least bit lesbiany). After a gentleman from Indianapolis tried for what seemed like a half hour to get us to admit that we batted for the other team while at a pizza joint at one in the morning since the crepe place was closed, I finally told him I like dick just as much as he did. He seemed to have a new-found respect for us after that! We did stick around to witness some of the parade on Sunday, and I thought it was much tamer than I anticipated. It was interesting to see all of the crazy niches (Ugandans seeking equal rights for queers, as the sign read... and the transgendered Asian women were favorites). Strange I've been to more Pride festivals than my gay best friend...

There's Pride - painted bikini to match the hair! And kids at the parade - they were fun to watch!


Ugandans - Global Human Rights for Queers! And the Black Pride float!

Tia met up with us Friday night after her drive in from New York. It's always great to see her and talk to her because it always feels like no time has passed at all. Those are some of the best friendships to have. We also met up with Sally and Kandi, who weren't quite as into the Pride festivities as we were, but were more than willing to explore the city with us. Tia, Spatula and I spent quite a bit of time at the St. Lawrence Market, where we overdosed on fried calamari (and presumably the liter of Lambrusco we split in our Bubba Kegs on the way to the market at 1 in the afternoon...), and where I had a flashback of my childhood as I stopped at the Ukrainian eatery and market and was harassed by the short Ukrainian woman, who reminded me entirely too much of my family, into buying more than I intended simply because she kept telling me what a deal she was giving me. Ukrainian women are pushy (have you met me??), and I felt like I would offend her if I said no, but I finally did. The food was all kinds of fantastic (eclairs with god knows how much shortening and fantastic apple strudel-like pastries), though, and a welcome treat after a long night of a whole lot of Carling.


Spatula with her Bubba Keg... Tia - ready for adventure... Me with Bubba Keg at the Hutch angle

Highlights of the weekend? One of my favorites was Spatula being given jewelry that looked like it fell off a truck headed to Claire's by a homeless man while standing in the open-air part of the bar, glimpsing raccoons running up a flight of stairs in downtown Toronto while at the same bar, Tia and Spatula violently ejecting a piece of salty Dutch licorice purchased for D from their mouths (I've never seen them spit food out ever!), and a hysterical cab ride back to the "gayborhood" as our hotel was called, which we shared with a guy we met at the bar who had us laughing to the point of tears running down our faces. I can't wait until the next adventure!

Spatula's new necklace... Mung beans made me think of Sheryl... Spatula's new earrings