I have a recurring blemish...

I have a recurring blemish..., originally uploaded by dumpstar_drummer.

...right between my eyes. AWESOME.

These two items just cost me $18.

These two items just cost me $18., originally uploaded by dumpstar_drummer.

Stupid Cooking Light and its stupid expensive recipes. It had better
be good.

Nobody likes the people who eat half doughnuts.

Nobody likes the people who eat half doughnuts., originally uploaded by dumpstar_drummer.

Do people reallllly try to return half eaten portions?!?!

Getting Baby involved in the self portrait process

They're blurry because while I LOVE that he's growing and learning how to grab for stuff (which, btw, blows my mind because it wasn't very long ago AT ALL that he was a passive participant in the self portrait photo sessions), holding a grabby baby and a camera AND keeping things steady is a skill I have yet to master.

So he's learning to help, but in the meantime, he has the cute DOWN PAT!

And if you were wondering if he smells as good as he looks, he does.

No Prostitution

No Prostitution, originally uploaded by dumpstar_drummer.

I don't think the Four Seasons feels the need to call that out.

1301.1 miles in three days!

Okay NOW it's time to tell you about Oktoberfest #2 which was the first event in a weekend full of events. Well...second event, if you count the alien sighting:


SEE? Aliens!

Did you know that aliens care about child safety seats too??


But back to the human-related events.

This whole trip started with the wigwams and then it somehow ballooned into the wigwams and Oktoberfest in Vegas because OH HEY, WHY NOT? Plus, for bonus WTF we threw in *camping* in Vegas.

Stop and think about that one for a minute.

Camping?

In Vegas?

Yes.

Not Vegas proper, but Red Rock Canyon, which is only a hop, skip and a jump from Las Vegas so one minute "we" were setting up a tent and 15 minutes later we were listening to the Oktoberfest #1 CD and pulling up to our dinner destination for the evening.

So if you're keeping track, that's one night in a tent outside of Vegas and one night in a wigwam in San Bernadino.

VIP all the way, baby.

BUT SERIOUSLY, ELIZABETH? CAMPING?

Yep.

It really wasn't so bad though and DARE I SAY, I'd be willing to do it again?? Maybe not in VEGAS, but at the beach or in the wilderness or something and as long as I have a trusty camping concierge with me to make it all happen.

For example, I was not in charge of any of the camp set up activities:



Or any of the camp break down activities:



I'm sad to say I ended up not using my standing-up-to-pee device (other than the test-run in my bathroom at home) because the bathrooms, while without the running water I was promised, were like the nicest outhouses I've ever used and were a 30 second walk from the tent:

Plus, the moon was really bright and there were people in surrounding camp areas so I felt bashful about busting out my lady-pee'r so I just used the official bathrooms.

Once camp was all set up and our very expensive $10 fee was paid to the BLM I put on my pearls and my fantastic gold jacket and we hit the town for David's traditional Oktoberfest bonanza:


We made friends:

That's James, AKA the sweetest waiter EVER.

This is Fritzie (Joan, I told her about YOUR Fritz!):


Fritzie was there celebrating her first anniversary with her lady, whose name I do not recall:


I tried to teach David about the self portraits:


But he was not particularly cooperative:

I can report that the songs and the festive atmospheres at both Oktoberfest #1 and #2 were the same but Teske's didn't have the same dirty giant-horn-related party games, the beer stein holding contests or the girl's beer chugging contests that the Vegas version offered.

The big let-down of the night:

I pussed out when it came to entering the girl's beer chugging contest.

The problem was that they announced that it would happen in 30 minutes so I stopped drinking my own beer so I'd have room to chug what I thought would be an entire liter of contest beer. BUT THEN it took closer to an hour before they got on with it and this delay sobered me up to the point where I was no longer willing to go get in front of everybody and show them my mad skills.

The salt in the wound: It turned out that the ladies only had to chug HALF liters which is CHILD'S PLAY and I didn't even need to stop drinking in order to accommodate that puny little amount.

GRR.

David and James were very disappointed in me.

The party eventually wound down and the restaurant was closing so we moved on to stop #2, a place David assured me would be really cool and it was really cool except that when he directed me into the Peppermill parking lot and I was like "OMG LET'S GO TO THE FIRESIDE LOUNGE!" He didn't know that there used to be a Peppermill in Cupertino and that I was already well acquainted with the magic:



We made it back to the "hotel" safely and then after a not-so-awesome night's sleep on the ground (turns out, my camping companion snores, which was an exciting bonus that I rectified for the next night by sending him to buy me some ear plugs), we got up, packed up and went on a scenic drive of Red Rock Canyon.

I was like "Please be sure to get less of me in these fat pants and more of the rocks" and this is what I got:


Smart ass.

Take two:


More rocks:




And then we drove to San Bernadino and OMG ARE YOU BORED OF THIS UPDATE YET??

Well let me spice it up for you:


That's right, I'm on a tractor in front of a wigwam.

The interior of the wigwam was pretty standard motel'y and the shower SUCKED but it didn't end up on my life list because I thought it would have 400 thread count sheets and a jacuzzi tub, but it was clean and only half of the TV channels were fuzzy. Besides, after my two hours of sleep on the desert floor the night before, I kind of didn't care. I was READY for a shower (however ineffective) and a real bed (however firm).

It was Halloween night and in my head I had grand plans that we would go tie one on at a local San Bernadino bar or whatever but the reality is that A) I WAS TIRED and B) San Bernadino SUCKS so we mustered up the energy to go out for a crappy dinner and, from what I hear, my ear plugs and I passed out about seventeen seconds after my head hit the pillow.

It's really a shame that San Bernadino is such a HOLE because the Wigwam Motel is great and I'd love to see them kitsch it up and have theme rooms or something but the unfortunate reality is that sure, it's on Route 66, but otherwise it's in a crappy area that I can't imagine anyone going out of their was to visit. Other than us, I guess.

BUT, it's like an OASIS:

Good ol' #117:


When we checked in we were told that #117 was near the garden...and sure...it was...kinda:

Mostly it was just a patch of sorry-looking plants. That's David going on a hunt for the chilis the guy said were back there and invited him to sample.

Goodbye, Wigwam #117!


BUT WAIT! THAT'S NOT ALL!!!

The McDonald's museum is just a hop, skip and a jump from the Wigwams!


I totally remember these hamburger jails and I also remember being TERRIFIED of ever getting in one because WHAT IF I WAS UP THERE AND A KID WAS BLOCKING THE EXIT AND I COULDN'T GET OUT AND MY MOM DIDN'T SAVE ME AND I DIED?!?!?!?!?!?

It appears that only 50% of us shared that concern because that's a 6'Something man you see crammed into that thing.

It wasn't really much of a museum though...it was more like a collection of crap. I'm sure my dad and his museum homies would be able to give the exact definition of "museum" versus "crap," but if the diorama right inside the door is a 4th grader's school project, then I'm going with CRAP:



There were plenty of giant-sized McDonald's characters for the photo opps though. This one in particular wasn't intended to be so suggestive but shoot -- the other pictures of me and the Hamburgler all feature excessive chin (on me).


Grimace! But like a furry mascot-looking version of him:

Yeah, I don't know what that face means.

The man himself:


SEE? OMG CHIN! It's horizontal AND vertical!

But enough of that.

And enough of this EPIC, 1300 mile blog post.

We had a great time, the end, HIGH FIVE!

Oktoberfest #1

I want to tell you about my Oktoberfest #2/Camping/Wigwam weekend with David but I'd be doing Oktoberfest #1 with Lauren a disservice if I didn't tell you about that first. Soooo, that post will have to wait a day or so, but here's what I have to say about Oktoberfest #1:

It was an accident. We had plans for happy hour a couple of Fridays ago and figured we'd go to Teske's because it's October and they have a beer garden and shoot, why not have a couple of beers in the warm fall air?

We looked at their website, read the Yelp reviews, etc. WE DID OUR RESEARCH. Nowhere does it say that "Oh, PS, this is the biggest, loudest, most sought-after traditional Oktoberfest celebration in the area, possibly even all of northern California and you have to get reservations six months in advance."

We got there JUST as Teske's was opening and didn't want to be the first ones there so we went to the bar next door (where the bartender looks like a rockabilly version of my friend Joel [I'm talking about YOU, Mr. Finale!]) for our first drink.

We hung out, drank our beers, did our serious catching up and after an hour or so, decided to go next door and stake out a spot on the patio.

EXCEPT, our naive "Hi, two for the patio please?" was met with a pissy "YOU DON'T HAVE A RESERVATION?!?!?" from the head chef / host. We were half inclined to just bail because DUDE WAS A DICK but shoot -- we weren't gonna let him get us down! He said he MIGHT be able to fit us in if we gave him 20 minutes. Uh...the patio looked only about half full but okay...Lauren and I have both spent quality time working in the restaurant business and understand the delicate balance of not slamming a server's station. We can be patient.

So we head to the bar to wait it out, but we hadn't been there for three minutes before the dude was back, swatting my arm to get my attention and yelling "GIRLS! GIRLS! COME ON! LET'S GO!"

Seriously, dude was a D-I-C-K.

But we followed him anyway and HOOOO BOY, I'm glad we did.

He sat us down at a long table filled with people, including an old German lady named Jutta (another fellow non-reservation-holder) and we started to realize that OHHHHHH...this wasn't going to be happy hour. This was going to be a full German dinner, complete with beer and a band and an accordion and lederhosen and busty women.

A minute or two later he moved us to the table right in front of the band and Jutta said she was going to the bathroom and never came back and then it was me and Lauren and the motliest (is that a word?) crew (crue!) of people I've ever had the pleasure of dining with:

1. A retired Army guy and his wheelchair-bound wife who was dressed in a hot German boob-a-licious outfit. They were LOVELY and FUN and they really made our accidental Oktoberfest a great time, AND NOT JUST BECAUSE THEY PAID OUR TAB AT THE END OF THE NIGHT!

2. An old German guy and his mentally challenged son who was SO EXCITED about the AWESOME German band that he assured us would be playing shortly. He didn't waste any time before asking us if we were single and guessing our ages (25, MY ASS, but thanks!) and telling us that he was 40 and that he LOVES to dance, especially with pretty frauleins like us (though it's important to note that Lauren was his favorite fraulein).

3. A married couple (who later told me that they "swing" and oh, by the way, was I single?) and the wife's parents and grandparents.

4. And then there was Jutta, who lasted all of 5 minutes before bailing.

So there we were, sitting there with dumbfounded looks on our faces and shooting each other "OMG SHOULD WE JUMP SHIP OR WHAT?" looks but then before we knew it there were beers in front of us and everyone was so excited that we were there and the band started and there was a giant pretzel (the way to Lauren's heart) and we decided that we'd just have a giant liter of beer and go with the flow.

So when we started getting the band's overflow shots that they couldn't drink?

We went with it.

And when I came back from the bathroom to find our 40-year-old German band enthusiast tablemate who likes dancing with pretty frauleins dancing all alone, I danced with him and let him twirl me all around. He was SO TICKLED with himself that he bought Lauren and I each a CD from the band.

And the beers kept appearing and the plates of sausages and fried veal were put in front of us and the TIKKA TIKKA HEY or whatever the heck toasts were being made, we played right along and we had the BEST DAMN TIME.

In Summary:

* What was intended to be a low-key drink or two with Lauren turned into an accidentally awesome extravaganza.

* It was so much damn fun that we're going to make actual reservations and bring the whole posse back next year.

Photo Evidence:

Fun Fact:

The ladies' room at Teske's is a single seater and therefore:

1. You can watch the lady in question as she unzips her pants:

And then, when she's finished, you can watch her zip them back up again:



This half wall stall really allows the ladies to bond while they're in line. There's nothing like a little stall commentary to lighten the mood.

"She's putting down the seat cover. She's unbuttoning her pants. She's sitting down. She's standing up. She's flushing."