March Effing Madness

BLARUGHGYIHSKJ. That's how my body feels after the severe abuse it has been taking this month. Why does March always drive me to 1) Drink insane amounts of booze and 2) Eat really bad-for-you food?

Well, I think it's partially because St. Patrick's Day has gone from being an Irish Day that happens once every mid-March to a month long drinking marathon with stops in Hoboken, Manhattan, and Westchester (although I sat this one out this year) along the way. I think this is great and all but the older you get, the less you can hang, which kind of becomes evident as the younger kids rage through the night, and I start throwing elbows at the pizza counter at 9 pm to get some carbs in mah belly.

Also, between New Years and March 1, everybody hides. People only go out in their neighborhoods or short car rides away because going out with a coat in general is just fucking annoying, let alone layering up with a thick sweater that you just end up stripping off when you get hammered. Fuck winter...spring = warm weather = booze which is < boozing outside.

Plus, after the holidays and spending money on winter vacays, people are poor, so everybody I know starts bartending in March. Which kills me because the folks I know make drinks like moonshine. Hence, I end up falling out of my elevator onto my hallway floor. I woke up the next day as looked like, as Mrs. Krabbypatty put it so eloquently, someone "Chris Browned" me. Too soon? Nah.

Then you have your NCAA tournament drinking which really, is just an excuse to get bombed during the week. Last year, I went out to an E. Village bar and ended up getting hammered while trying to pick up guys during a Duke game. Turns out they don;t really like to talk when the game is on. Whoops! This year, I created a bracket based on the names of the schools, and I'm hoping that I can strike a bond at the bar this way. Anyone know the closest Oklahoma-centric bar? (I picked them to win by accident).

Lastly, the end of this month marks the very death of my poor, innocent liver. Since DM is getting married next month, a bunch of us gals are heading to Newport, RI, for her bachelorette party. While this might seem normal to most, let me explain. After DM's shower a bunch of us went out and stayed out. Until 4 AM. People asked us if we were the bachelorette party. Kids, you ain't seen nothing yet. I wouldn't be surprised if someone ends up A) Seriously injured B) Pregnant or C) coming face to face with the entirety of their stomach contents. Let's hope none of those are me!!

Overall, March is month of drinking and being a degenerate. Which is what I seem to do best. I mean, c'mon, it may hurt, but it hurts sooooooo good.

So a plane crashed in my backyard today...

I live about 2 blocks away from that USAir flight that crashed into the Hudson about an hour and half ago.

So far they are reporting everyone is okay. Thank you Jebus.But it was really close to my partment and I am bugging myself out thinking "What if they hadn't landed in the water.."

This event reminded me of a book I read as a tween. "Flight #116 Is Down!" is like the most effed up tale to read as a child. You might as well read it and watch My Bloody Valentine.

Let me explain: The book is story of some chick named Heidi who lives on this sick estate with all of this land. Then a plane crash lands in her back yard and she has to deal with all the injured and dying people. You learn the passenger's stories in a Trafficky/Babelly/Crash-type way. You also get a taste of what the families are going through as they wait for the list. And I think Heidi has some love interest with like an EMT or something.

And, like, some of the good people DIE. Seriously, they make you like someone and then they DIE. And this is a book for KIDS. And it's not like kooky fiction like Harry Potter. This is like real shit that could happen (just like today).

So to author Caroline Cooney, you scarred me for life and today I have Nam-like flashbacks to your book.

Fin.

Goya Oh Boya!

So all in all, I had about an hour of free time in Chicago. I decided to see some sights. I had heard a lot about one particular thing.

"The face of Chicago has changed overnight. With the grand opening of the 475 million dollar Millennium Park July 16th, and the unveiling of the newest and most striking public sculpture, Cloudgate, all guidebooks were instantly rendered obsolete. That's because artist Anish Kapoor's Cloudgate, already lovingly referred to by Chicagoans as "The Bean," is a sensational, 110-ton, highly polished steel monolith shaped like a kidney bean that draws you to it with its ever-changing reflections of the city skyline, surrounding park and, of course, your own, elusive mirror-image - harder to find than you think." source


I saw the bean and took some artsy photos...

Then, in a moment of pure immaturity, I started cracking up (mind you I was by myself) and took this.

Yes, I flicked the bean.

Head back, HEAD BACK!

The field trip to Six Flags was awesome. I love roller coasters, I love the thrill of being forced into the air at God knows what speed. But the Kingda Ka? You've got to be effing kidding me.

Mind you I wasn't told until after that it's the world's tallest and fastest roller coaster. You can see this thing from anywhere in the park. The Scream Machine? Child's play.

KrabbyPatty, DM and Homer (Spanish's husband, named so after his favorite cartoon character) and I waited on line. For all of 10 minutes (apparently I picked the best day ever to go to Six Flags, there was no one there). Those were the longest 10 minutes of my life. All I could hear was screams and all I could see were tears in the eyes of some tween in front of me. I bit a huge chunk of my nail off.

It went down like this:

Homer: "Holy crap did you see that?"

Me: "I'm just not looking. I'm just going to get on."

Homer: "No, look! They shoot you out so fast!"

Me: "Just don't talk to me."

I could only envy Future Mrs. KP and Spanish as they were the only two with enough brains to remain safely on the ground. They would later report that they saw some dude boot all over the ground as he ran full spped away from the coaster for his life.

As the car ahead of us with the tween pulled up (which signaled it was our turn to get in) I stared at her. She looked like someone just took her puppy away while they were simultaneously murdering all of the members on 'NSYNC.

I got in the car, pulled the safety thing over my head and buckled myself in for dear life. When the teenagers who worked on the ride came to check my safety, I said a silent prayer. I mean seriously, have you seen how old the kids are who work at Six Flags? The kid who served me my burger at Johnny Rockets was 14, tops. I should send the NJ department of labor in there, the park would be shut down for days.

Anyway, I made it. I said I would do it and I did. It went this fast, clouds, parking lot, ground and it was over. Maybe the wind and fear for my life and intense neck and back pain (they tell you to keep your head back...I couldn't. The thing shoots you out at 128 mph) were what caused the tears at the end, but I did it, and yes, I deserve an effing big cookie.