So Many Emotions

Scary, funny, sad, and just ugh.

from K-did.

Quotes from Mr. Perfect

Erin: Heyyyyy HEY Heyyyyy!

Mr. Perfect: (from the other room) What?

Erin: Come 'ere!

Mr. Perfect: But my stories are on!

Erin: (laughing) What? You don't have stories!

Mr. Perfect: (walking in room) My program is on! I haven't missed one episode of Parenthood! What do you want?!?

I died of laughing. Then I joined him because Parenthood is his jam and I want to support. Or... ok, I just like it too.

During a commercial break, Mr. Perfect and I discussing the Whizzie Hizzie*.

Mr. Perfect: I love that Obama is basically doing everything from season 2 of The West Wing.

Erin: What??

Mr. Perfect: Wake me up later in the season when he takes on Social Security reform.

*  I call the White House the Whizzie Hizzie.

Guess what they don't like being made fun of for?

After they asked me to wait so I didn't get run over, I said it was no problem and that the guy at the wheel didn't look like the most confident driver.

That comment? did. not. go. over. well.

or C team?

Just had to wait on the B-team version of secret service to move a car out of my path. They seriously were the awkward dorky version of the ones you see on tv.

Yes, This Was All One Weekend

Saturday was a really busy day.

I was invited to a bridal shower at 1pm, meeting friends to watch the K-State (sad) game at 4, and then heading back out with the girls for the bachelorette party (on a party bus... yikes!) at 9pm.

I was really hopeful there would be a small baby nap squeezed in there somewhere. Spoiler alert: there wasn't.

There wasn't time for much of anything.

While I scrambled to get ready, Mr. Perfect wrapped the shower gifts for me:

And then I rewrapped:

That was the only benefit to being late and having to take a cab, at least I was able to re-wrap.

Don't worry, I didn't un-do Mr. Perfect's doing. I just... decorated it a bit.

After a delicious lunch, I ran out the door to meet some friends at Nelly's to watch the KSU game.

And we lost.

And it sucked.

And it was confirmed that Erin drinking champagne = a K-State loss.

Seriously, third time this season I drank champagne during a game and they lost. This means two things.

1) I drink a lot of champagne

2) I learned my lesson

After another cab (ugh!) home to do a quick change for the bachelorette party, I walked in the house to find these in the kitchen:

Aww! Mr. Perfect was super busy Saturday as well - shootin' stuff with the bachelor party before heading out for their own night on the town. Somehow he was able to sneak in a few early birthday surprises for me.

Like this, which I found in the bedroom:

Good man.

After a quick change-a-roo, Hil was awesome enough to come pick me up and drive me back into the city. One less cab and the perfect birthday gift!

The rest of the bachelorette gals had met up a bit earlier for a drink before heading to the bar where we would get picked up by the party bus.

The bar (Rumors) is really big and usually hopping with the happy hour crowd.

But when I walked in, dressed like.... a girl going on a bachelorette party? Yeah. When I walked in I was a wee bit conspicuous. I immediately realized that I was the first one there from my party.

Or any party that night. There were two buses worth of people meeting at the bar, about 30 or so people to a bus.

But at that moment?

There were probably 5-10 tables with families eating dinner. Yeah.

Awk-ward!

I started walking towards the bar to take a seat and grab a drink, but a bouncer stopped me and asked for my ID.

He looked at my ID.

He looked at me, standing there alone.

"Happy...Birthday..."

"Huh? oh! Yeah! Um. Thanks!"

It was the funniest slash most pathetic moment ever.

I naturally called Shell to share my moment.

She loved it. That's what sisters are for. Well, that and having their 2.5 year old's tell you, "Go kwazy tonight, Air-win!"

Yes, Maddie, I will go kwazy!

Then suddenly - literally within 10 minutes - my empty bar of sorrow and awkwardness turned into a place so packed with birthdays and bachelorettes that you could hardly squeeze around the joint!

After getting our wristbands and a worthless yet friendly, "If you get lost later, just look at your wristband. It's the same color as your bus!" we loaded up!

The Boomerang bus drove us around the city, stopping at 3-4 bars for about an hour each. The bus had some good music, we had drinks, skipped lines and covers at the bars, and had the pleasure of watching the "stability poles" in the bus put to good/bad use. There were also two bus leaders who basically babysat/encouraged drinking/dancing/tomfoolery. It was a good time.

Until we got to Midtown Loft.

Midtown Lofts is on the second and third story of a big older building.

When I got off the bus, one of the leaders said to head all the way up to the third floor.

So I did.

Alone.

Looking like this:

And then I stood there.

In a pseudo-swanky lounge.

Alone.

Looking like that.

Waiting.

And uh, no one else from the bus ever showed.

I finally went back down to the second floor and found everyone, then made them go upstairs with me to show that the weird girl in the beer goggles actually does have friends.

I just couldn't be that girl twice in one night.

Right when we got on the bus to leave Midtown it was midnight o'clock annnnd...

My birfday!

The girls were super sweet and sang me a ton of songs and then toasted to our bride and birthday girl at the next bar:

By the time the bus made it back to Rumors at 2, I was d-u-n done! Mr. Perfect met me in a cab (and you thought I was done with the cabs!) and we happily headed home.

The next day we met friends at the newly remodeled/moved and reopened Madhatter. Apparently it used to be a bit of a dive (Mr. Perfect was perplexed as to why I wanted to go there) but their new location off Dupont is very neat, with massive Alice in Wonderland prints and a huge paper mache hat decorating the joint.

Oh, and a ridiculous amount of food on the brunch buffet (and a carving station. and a waffle station. and an omelet station) and, most importantly, bottomless mimosas.

Yes please and thank you.

The brunch group + food +mimosas was so perfect that it wasn't too shocking when our friend C who joined us for coffee, then left for mass, showed back up and yes, we were still there.

We may have had brunch for 3 hours.

Maybe.

After brunch, Mr. Perfect stole me off to Georgetown for some birthday shopping.

As we walked toward the sign listing deals for a psychic that had just always caught my eye, I asked Mr. Perfect if we should get our palms read.

Not going to lie, I was kind surprised he said yes.

We headed up the stairs towards the psychic... shop? and walked into an oddly furnished room that absolutely reeked of smoke. It was so so so disgusting.

A woman nonchalantly said hi to us.

I think we stood there for a minute, then told her we uh, you know, wanted our palms read. It was like we just walked into her living room - no biggie.

I suppose she was expecting us?

Anywho, she took me behind a curtain and told me to place both hands on a table, palms up.

Then she kinda barked in a slightly bored, monotone:

You will live a long life into your eighties.

(pause, deep breath annnnd)

You will overcome illness in your life.

I see two children for you. A boy and a girl.

(pause, deep breath, repeat)

Your relationship with the one you love is strong and will grow stronger.

After another pause, she described my personality quite accurately, told me the letters J and M were important, then matter of fact told me I needed a more in-depth reading.

I said thank you, got up and walked back through the curtain.

The woman kinda left.

Then another woman, I'm guessing her mother, came out and told me to move so she could do Mr. Perfect's reading where I was sitting.

She did his reading in the exact. same. tone. and voice. (and btw, I'm a pretty spot-on mimic of it, so if you need your palm read...)

She described his personality to the T, the started really winning me over by also describing his work. If only she would have stopped after the first part - I felt like she added more details that just dilluted what she was saying to apply to anyone.

After telling him he would live into his 80's, overcome illness, that J and M were important to him, and that the one he loved was true to him (fuckyeahpalmreader) and our love would grow, she wished him a good life.

Then they just kinda sat there for a minute until he said thank you and got up.

We stood there for a minute, awkwardly, waiting for them to say how much we owed them - because of course the sign on the street said $5 and the sign in their ... psychic room? said $10. Mr. Perfect pulled out a $20 and handed it to the older woman. By this time, the younger woman who read my palm was also back out in the room.

The older woman started sifting through money and pulled out change.

And then... handed it to the younger woman? While we stood there?

It. Was. Painful.

Finally we just kinda... walked out.

Smelling like smoke.

I totally think it was worth the money though, because for the rest of the night I was able to relate every conversation back to - well our relationship will only grow stronger - you are very compassionate - you help your coworkers - J and M are very important to you - etc etc etc.

Who knew everything they said would be so spot on??

The other reason it was worth the money?

I got to tell my mom we had our palms read, then have her reply, "Oh! I thought you were going to tell me you went to Mass for PALM SUNDAY. Not that you got your palm read!"

HEATHEN!!!!*

After that, Mr. Perfect and I decided palm reading was fo' sheezie our new Palm Sunday tradition.

After the reading, we did some shopping, then drove by the tidal basin for a peek at the cherry blossoms.

OMG - are you freaking tired yet?

Yeah.

So am/was I.

ONWARD!

We took a tiny cat nap, then it was up again, for our next 3 hour eating adventure.

Mr. Perfect took me to Blue Duck Tavern for a double-date with the Obamas**, but stupid B decided to go to Afghanistan for the night. LAME.

So it was just the two of us.

Which was ok, because, you know, our relationship is growing stronger and shit.

After a quick glance at the menu, we decided to do it up and order the pheasant.

The pheasant was baked inside a salt dough that turned into a rock-hard crust that was cut away to reveal a perfectly tender bird. It took about an hour to prepare. And it was awesome.

Mostly because, as I (classy) told the manager, it was the first time I ate pheasant and didn't have to spit out any pieces of shot.

And you know we got us some dessert. And omfg it was so damn good. I'm not even going to be rude and make you sad by further explaining the gloriousness of that dessert.

He does look like he'll overcome illness and live into his eighties, doesn't he??

Man.

It was exhausting just reliving the weekend by writing it all down.

Bed.

Now.

*she did have to say that part - it was implied.

** or maybe I was just convinced that they were going to be there??

Counting Down

I am really wishing I would have taken today off.
My weekend was too short, too hectic and mostly too fun.
I had grand intentions of posting photos last night. However, my internets did not comply.
I would say I will definitely get to it tonight, but I'm mostly dreaming of naps... bedtime... sleeping...

File Under: Things You Don't Think About When You Move to DC

I'm going to a bridal shower today.
The other day, Mr. Perfect and I went shopping and picked out some gifts.
It wasn't until yesterday that I realized oh yeah, I have to carry these gifts to the Metro and to the shower.
Damn.
Griddle was a bad choice.

And while I sit here and type this, Mr. Perfect has unsuccessful searched the house for wrapping paper and settled on the brown packing paper from a package from Melinda (BEST GIFTS EVER).

Oh boy...

Now Josh and Mr. Perfect are fighting over the best way to wrap the gifts.

Jesus.
Mr. Perfect just decided to leave the handles unwrapped and Josh concurred saying, "Well, you have to carry it somehow, don't you?"

Now Josh is yelling at Mr. Perfect to mark the price off the tag.

I think I will let him wrap it, then buy a gift bag on the way to the shower and throw everything in it.
Shit.
Josh just literally said, "You know Erin's just going to go to the store and buy wrapping paper and tear this off, right? Don't put too much effort into it."
Busted.

Well, I have to hurry and get ready if I'm going to make it on time. I also need to figure out how to pull a Superman, layering my K-State stuff under my shower attire. Because FUCKYEAHKSTATE!
Is a Powercat tattoo on the face taboo for a bridal shower?
I'm going to go ahead and say not in Manhattan. Kansas.

Grrrrrr

No issue with my connection watching the game until 2 min left and a tie!!! wtf!?!?

geared up

A box full of K-State gear* arrived for me today, just in time for the game.

I am fashionably reppin' the purple and the white (and the white!) in my awesome new hoodie.

Thanks Ma!

*and hell yeah that gear included Powercat tattoos!

Twix Verdict

Not worth it.

A bit too much of a pain, a shit-load too much sugar and butter for well, something that just tastes like a shit-load of sugar and butter.

Oh, and the recipe said it made 12 servings. Ummm. WTF? That is disgusting. I cut them into Twix-sized bars and half the pan made about 20. Yeah.

Random Thoughts While Watching a Pot Boil

I'm making homemade Twix right now. Hoping they are as good as they sound.

I joined a kickball league today, along with my friend Hil and Mr. Perfect.

Apparently Twix is sugar, butter, sugar, sugar, boiled down. Topped with chocolate. YUM.

Anywho, Hil and I decided we both needed to make friends. And drinking playing kickball was the best way to do it. We'll see how that experiment goes.

Today was bleh.

Hoping tomorrow is more win.

Most win part of today - this note from my little Kate:

Erin
I love you
Katie

She also called you on her play phone. She said hi, that she liked your haircut, that you looked pretty, and she loves you. Then she said, "Bye!" and that you had to go.

reason #156 he is Mr. Perfect

I told Mr. Perfect last night that since he was going to poker tonight he should to win what he spent at Ikea.

The total at Ikea was about $180.

He just walked in with $180 in winnings.

I like this subsidized shopping.

Vomit/Adorable

Mr. Perfect likes my new hairdid.

For one major reason.

In a short period of time, his hair will have grown back out.

And we will have matching hair cuts.
To compliment our matching phones.

And matching netbooks.

Hitler loves KU

Of course he does.



Thanks K-diddy.

Weekend in Review

Friday night missed a party, but ended up eating awesome Italian sandwiches (from the Italian Store) with a bottle of wine around 9:30. Got up for brunch Saturday morning in Southeast. Me = green eggs with pesto. Mr. Perfect = cornbread waffle with pulled pork and egg. Erin WIN. Walked around Eastern Market. Bought some awesome shirts. Strawberry lemonade + pink cheeks from sun = SPRING. Went to see Mr. Perfect's friend Kelly at Immortal Beloved. Walked in like this:And out like that:
Walked around Logan Circle. Headed home. Napped. Went to a bar in a mall (awesome) and watched insanely drunk man stumble down hallway. Drank a huge PBR (for you Carly!) and watched KU - ouch. Said goodbye to Mr. Perfect. High-fived (sorry love...) Hil, Marky and V. Drank more PBR. Watched KSU - YES! Went home. Got up for brunch. Walked up and down Clarendon scoping outdoor eating situations. Settled on Harry's Tap Room. One of my eggs was overcooked, Mr. Perfect's steak-and-horseradish cheddar-omelet wins. Sat at table outside on 5 ft wide balcony. Watched people trying to go to a closed store. Laughed. Saw shockingly drunk woman try to put on her sandals. LOLbutsad. Where are all these drunks coming from? Went into Container Store with no purpose, walked out with plan for the rest of they day. Dropped off 4 bags of clothing at Goodwill and headed down 95 towards Ikea. My first trip to Ikea since moving. Now I know why. 95. So. Slow. Shopped. Shopped. Ate meatballs. Shopped. Shopped. Dropped by BestBuy. Now Mr. Perfect and I have matching phones and netbooks. Groan/love it. Bought tiny desk, new red bathmat, hand towels and shower curtain liner, light fixtures and organizers. Called our favorite Thai place on the way home. Did some shopping in the Thai grocery store while waiting on our food. Home! So. Tired. Ate. Watched Taking Woodstock. Meh. Laundry. Unpack shopping conquests. 10:45p.m. Sunday night. Mr. Perfect begins to assemble the desk.

--Shakes Fist--

The Mouse* is** back.

Game Face.
On.

*MICE?!?!?
**ARE!?!?!

Talks With Mom

Me: Yeah, so I think I might donate my hair.

Mom: Oh really? Ya got 10 inches?

Me: That's what she said?

Yes?

--laughing, then yelling to Mr. Perfect in the other room--

Mr. Perfect! Guess what my Mom just said!!! She asked if I had 10 inches! A perfect Thatswhatshesaid!

Mom: --laughing-- Why is that so funny?

Me: Umm... --laughing-- ask Dad!

(obvs they have the phone on speaker. Because whose parents don't put it on speaker?)

Dad: I was afraid you'd say that...

Read it

Crappiest plane EVER. Seriously. Engine problem. Spraying oil. PROPELLER FALLS OFF??

Hipsters + food stamps = groan/eye roll

Petraeus is for the Gay-es... damn. That needs some workshopping.

Online dating is best when it's your friend doing it, not you. Then you just get lots o' free entertainment.

Cinnamon Bun Pancakes are Yes

Saturday morning I drove Mr. Perfect a little nutty as I delayed our breakfast making (and more importantly, eating) by insisting we try a new pancake recipe.

After one bite, we were both glad to have delayed gratification for the awesomeness that was Cinnamon Bun Pancakes.

I will have to make them again next weekend, this time including the maple frosting - I made a standard powdered sugar-milk-almond flavoring frosting.

At first Josh tried to escape the awesomeness, claiming that he didn't like pancakes. After I coerced/forced/explained the cinnamon bun-ness, he tried a bite.

Then he turned the griddle back on and cooked the rest of the batter.

I'm just going to act like the recipe doesn't say 8 servings and that Mr. Perfect, Josh and I didn't house all 8 of them.

Done!

The movie was fun and I did not get sick. In fact, I am now convinced I need to see Avatar in 3-D as well!

noted

Looking at the screen without glasses WILL make you sick. That's what I get for not being ready.

Bad Idea?

I am about to find out if seeing a movie in 3-D while hungoverish is a bad idea.

This is my first 3-D movie and I am already nervous that I will not like it (vomit).

My back up plan of heading to Mr. Perfect's theater if I got ill was ruined when he tried to buy his ticket to another movie and we realized his friend is waiting for him at a different theater. Dang.

fingers crossed..

Party in the USA

The best part has to be - moving my hips like yeah...

Thanks for the link, Mr. Perfect

Graphed

A break down of Jessie's breakdown.

Yespleaseandthankyou V!

Reblogging Bitches

A third grader (some creative bitches) in DC wrote a list of types of bitches.

There are 90 types of bitches.

It's amazing.

Then commenting bitches started complaining...

All worth a read.

Nerd Alert

Just found error in the latest AP Stylebook.
The entry?
LOL*

Not.
Kidding.




*It said "load"** instead of "loud" in one of the references. And no, I wasn't looking it up - I was referencing a time question when BFF caught my eye (under text messaging).

**Upon further reflection, I can't help but wonder if this is just the Canadian pronunciation, eh? Laughing out load?

Carded

I was walking around the office just now in some new shoes, thinking how strange it was that one shoe was pinching my toes.

The I looked down and saw white poking out.

White cardboard.

That was still in my shoe.

Mystery = solved.

Wing(wo)man - Update!

I went out with a group of single ladies Saturday night.
I have received two thank yous (so far).

TWO.

I have decided I am the ultimate Wingwoman - achieved through a delicate balance of silliness, alcohol, lack of shame and awkward dance moves. A blend of approachable, fun and undesirable.

UPDATE:
Oh wow, so I just got this e-mail from another one of the girls - her brother was out with us and well, I think I need to add scary to the description:

Erin.. you and him [her brother] dancing at Union Jack's has made my all-time best moments of my life list.. especially when you stepped away.. he grabbed my forearms and said.. "She's amazing. I'm going with it, but i'm so, so scared". Jessie Spano style.

Mr. Perfect's reply: It is very aggressive dancing

What can I say? I have been known to win dance offs...

YES

I like that when people see things like this, they think of me.

Christmas in March

Tonight I got one of my Christmas presents from Mr. Perfect - tickets to see Jack's Mannequin at the 9:30 Club.

I was a casual listener to Jack's Mannequin back when Dark Blue and The Mixed Tape were getting regular radio play. I became a fan when Melinda took me to see them at the Beaumont Club in Kansas City.

It was nearly impossible to explain to people who weren't at the show, but Andrew McMahon - lead singer - rocks the hell out of the piano he played for the entire show.

As in, he needs multiple mics so he can freely flail around - frantic to the point of spastic - pounding the keys with one hand and grasping a mic with the other. Or reaching for his stool that, tonight, he knocked over about 10 times during his enthusiastic performance.

I was tempted to take a video of Andrew ending multiple songs by doing a standing jump onto the keys of the piano.

Yes, I'll let that soak in.

He jumped onto, then stood on, the keys of the piano multiple times. Kinda badass.

I wanted to show my niece Caroline that if she keeps working her mad piano skills that maybe one day she can jump on the keys at the end of her songs.

Maybe it's a good thing I didn't get a video...

It must suck to tune that piano after shows.

I've been to some good concerts, but never one as high energy and just as plain positive as Jack's Mannequin. Which is surprising considering most of the songs on their recent album, Glass Passenger, deal with Andrew's battle with cancer.

Back in 2006 (or so) when Melinda and I saw them, Andrew talked to the crowd about how sick he had been and how close to death he came. It was intense. I was so glad to see him on the complete other side of that battle tonight. (I really want to see the documentary he made about his battle - you can watch a preview on the Jack's Mannequin site)

If you ever get a chance to see Jack's Mannequin - do it. They really are one of those (rare now) bands that is ten times better live. And let's be honest, it's fun to watch someone rock the shit out of a piano.

Ew and WTF and Mostly Ew

K-did: There's a Q-tip on the floor in the hallway here at work.

me: WTFQTIP

K-did: Agreed.

Impossible to Explain

This is running through my head on repeat (Shakes fist at Kathy Lee) :
"If they could see me now, on a Fun Ship cruise! Eating fancy food and doing what I chose!"


The eating fancy food part is kinda the best.

Best Bachelor Recap

I'm not even done reading it. It's so good I had to stop reading it just to share it with you. That's love.

Muah!

ONNNNNNNNnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn the Wings of LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE!

This is How I Feel

Thanks K-did.

On the Wings of Love...

I would just like you Bachelor-watching people to know that according to ABC's Web site, Ali is "Status: Still competing for Jake"

Ummm...