Saturday night I met Shelly downtown for a mutal friend’s birthday party.

There was a girl in the group who looked so familiar but I couldn’t place her.  It was driving me crazy!

Me: I know that girl from somewhere.

Shelly: Well she has hung out with us at Badger games.

Me: No… I don’t think that’s it.  Is she from Madison?

Shelly: Yeah, but she’s super young.  Like 24.

Me: Huh.  Maybe I used to babysit her. 

This revalation made Shelly almost spit her beer across the bar.

Me: No really.  It’s like I remember her being young.  I think maybe I really did sit for her.  You know… I should go up to her and say “Would you do me a favor and say, ‘What time are my parents coming home?’ or ‘I want another cookie?!’  I think I know you from somewhere and just want to be sure.”

Because I like being out in public with my friends, I did not go up to this girl and request her to speak.  But I so wanted to.  

And I think I’m on to something here.  I should write a book about this!  Be on Oprah!  Make millions!

The next time you see someone who looks familiar but you just can’t place them, go up and ask them to do something that will jog your memory. 

Perhaps they need to yell something at you. 

Maybe a make-out session is in order. 

Or in my case I might ask a guy who looks familiar, “Hi, will you do me a favor?  Yeah, I think we know each other but I’m not sure where I know you from.  So could you please say to me in your most sincere voice, ‘I’m sorry.  It’s not you.  It’s me.  This is just a bad time for me right now.  Please don’t call me again.’”

A Friday afternoon email exchange:

Becky: Ugh, I’m so done with this week.

Shelly: Me too.  I just want to crawl into a little hole and not come out for a few days.

Becky: No kidding!  Going to bed at 9 tonight sounds really great right now.

Shelly: With hot apple cider.

Becky: or red wine and beef stew.

Shelly: No red wine!  You’d be up at 2.

Becky: Oh yeah!  God.  STUPID!  Remind me what would I do without you?

**If you don’t have one of these people in your life, get one.  NOW!  Otherwise life can be very scary and potentially disastrous. 

Mine is on vacation this week so there is really no telling what sort of trouble I’m likely to get into.  Luckily she is just a text away.

Another Halloween has come and gone. 

Because I’m mildly insane about holidays and celebrating them to the fullest extent the day will allow, I feel complete in my soul when said holiday goes well.

In this case Halloween was a great success!  Especially with it’s rocky, ambivalent start.

Did The Punk have fun?  Check!

Did he get enough candy to last him until at least Valentine’s Day?  Check!

Were our Pumpkins amazing and did a ton of people comment on how cool they were?  CHECK!

Especially my mother’s art… er I mean her Jack O’ Lantern?  Check!

Did I have any fun?  Check!  Check!  and CHECK!

Shelly and I went out to our favorite holiday hang out (OK not really but we were there for New Year’s too, ergo, now our favorite holiday hangout.  Sorry Shelly… it’s true) for some great music and even better costume watching.

This couple was interesting.  When I asked “Hell Boy” if his dead Indian friend was in his movie (sadly Hellboy has never made it into my Netflix queue) he said, “No, she just likes to dress up as dead things.  Last night she was a dead Chef.”  Alrighty, then.  Good to know.

This guy made me pee my pants with fright. 

Since my therapist says you should always confront your fears, I asked in my biggest brave girl voice, “Um, will you take a picture with me Mr. Fucking Scary Clown Insane Guy?”  His grunt meant yes.  And then I fell in love and asked him to be my boyfriend for ever and ever.  But Mom, I LOVE him!

Of course there was another angel there.

But my costume won because not only was I twice her age and wearing more clothes, I had a super special hidden feature to my costume!

I was keeping all the evil Republicans at bay with my wand and blessing the good that is Obama.

Speaking of which… ONLY ONE DAY left of this never ending campaign!   ONE DAY!!  I’m sick.  I’m nauseous and dizzy. (and no, it’s not the extended hangover..)  I’m also excited and hopeful.

But mostly sick.

I hope everyone else had a great Halloween and in between sneaking your kid’s candy, if you haven’t already, make sure you take time to cast your vote on Tuesday.

It started out innocently enough.  A couple here and there.  Nothing serious, just a taste for the stuff.   It was just two friends experimenting and sometimes trying what the other one had.  No one was getting hurt.  We were both still going to work and being productive there.  Housework and laundry were getting done on a regular basis.  Friends and family were getting the attention they needed and deserved.

But that was then.  This is now.  It seems dear Internet, that Shelly, my dear friend, and I… well we are addicted.  Addicted to… you might want to sit down for this.  We are… oh god this is so hard to say.   Let me try it this way…

“Hi.  I’m Becky.  And I’m addicted to reading!” 
“Hi Becky!”

It started with just a book here and there.  “Hey, Shelly.  Read this.  It’s really good.”  And then she would say, “Hey, I just finished this… you should read it.”

In the beginning it was fine.  A book a month or so.  And then we got into some Teen Sci Fi trilogies and that’s where the spiral into addiction started with a fevered pace.  You see, when those were done, panic set in.  “WHAT WILL WE READ NEXT!??” 

If that wasn’t bad enough, we then discovered the one thing that will render a reading addict useless.  Our kryptonite.  Our crutch.  Also known as… The Library.  And not only just the library my friends, but also the most evil thing.  Their website.  If you are weak, and don’t have much willpower, please don’t try it without a trained professional.   It is like crack for the literary nerd.  
Since it’s 2008, all that separates you and the book you want is just a click of the mouse.  And In 3 days (OR LESS!) you get an email that your book is in.   This all sounds fine and dandy until you hit bottom.   Rock bottom in the library sense is bad.  It’s ugly. It is what keeps Shelly and I up at night in a cold sweat.  We like to call it, BOOK STRESS!

If you think that you or a loved one is suffering from Book Stress please look for the following signs.  It is similar to Netflix Stress but much more serious.

Do you wake up in the middle of the night with your heart racing wondering when your book is due?  Is it on the “Too Good To Miss list” and therefore, NOT RENEWABLE!?  Do you find that the dust bunnies are taking over your house and that your laundry pile is now a jungle gym for the neighborhood kids?  Do you bring a book with you every where you go because there might be a minute of time that you could get a few pages in?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, please know you are suffering but not alone.  During such Book Stress, things are known to fall apart.  Laundry is not done.  Children go without food.  WHO HAS TIME TO GROCERY SHOP AND COOK WHEN YOU COULD BE READING?!  Boyfriends are ignored.  At work, we long to be home… reading.

When things get this bad, try to get away from the books and go out to have a good time.  Like these two. 

See?  Look at the good time they are having out on the town.

(This guy’s name was Justin and HE WAS A PLUMBER!  So of course I had to get a picture with my new friend Justin The Plumber!)

But wait?!?  What’s this! 

Oh no!  It can’t be!  Is that a BOOK EXCHANGE IN THE PARKING LOT OF THE BAR!?

So instead of having a nice night out, LEAVING THE BOOKS AT HOME, they turned this outing into a rouse!  An excuse to exchange more of their drug of choice.

Apparently this has gotten to the point where an intervention is necessary. 

Which I will get to as soon as I’m done with this chapter….

And not that I want to drag any of you into enabling this addiction but if you have some good book choices, please, FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING HOLY AND GOOD IN THIS WORLD, ah yeah, just let me know.

Email to Shelly from me:   I want this:

Shelly: I actually saw one of those out at Target this last weekend!

Becky: YOU DID!!!!!!!! Super Target?  YOU DID?!  REALLY???  I WANT IT!

Shelly: I was actually going to text you because it seemed like the parking lot was FULL of bumper stickers and then I saw some 30 something guy wearing this in the food area.

Becky: Oh!  I thought you meant they were SELLING them at Target.  Sad.

Shelly: OMG No – God, wouldn’t that be a riot!

Becky: I was just so excited!

Shelly: Then it really would be a super Target.  Sorry about that.

Becky:  This will have to be blogged about.

Shelly: About how I got up your hopes and then….STOMPED ON THEM, STOMPED ON THEM, STOMPED ON THEM!  What are friends for? 

Becky: Yeah. Something like that.

10.  After work on Friday, kiss the week goodbye and go to bed at nine.

9.  Saturday morning watch your kid’s soccer game on a beautiful fall day. 

8. At said game, scream like the Soccer Mom you are, hoping to make Sarah Palin proud.

7. Spend much of Saturday afternoon reading a book that is labeled as Teen Sci-Fi, thoroughly enjoy this guilty pleasure and not be embarrassed.

6. Saturday night, drop the kid off at the rents and meet your BFF out at a fun sports bar to watch Brewers baseball and Badger football.

5. Laugh so hard that night that your mouth literally hurts and all your eye make-up has been cried off.

4. Sunday, do not shower and do not get out of your pajamas.

3. Have a friend over for your son so you can spend copious amounts of time on Facebook without interruption.

2. After grocery shopping with the punk, have that overwhelming feeling of sheer joy that your fridge is now full of lunches and dinners for the entire next week. 

1. And finally, end the weekend with a pajama party (not hard since per step 4 you never got out of your p.j’s in the first place) with your cute son, while eating pizza, and watching AFV.   Make sure to remind the boy, who is laughing so hard at the guy who got knocked in the crotch with a baseball bat, to breathe.

If this doesn’t fix the woes of a REALLY bad week, I’m not sure what will.

One of my favorite events during summer in Madison is The Taste of Madison.  Although it’s bittersweet since this event always falls on Labor Day weekend. Which means it’s the last hurrah of summer. 

But what better way to deal with the pain of summer being over and school starting, then to put yourself into a food coma, while following the crowd around a big square, walking at .05 miles per hour.   In addition, this is the only time of the year that you can legally have an open beer in hand while walking around the Capital.  All other 363 days of the year, you most likely would get a police escort off of the property.

This year, Shelly and I were nice enough to take the punk.  I figured by age eight he should really be able to enjoy the plethora of food and the fantastic people watching.  Happily, Ben did not disappoint. 

He had pizza:

And ice cream (Which was good to the last drop.  The pride that swelled in me as I watched him fight for every last drop of that Peanut Butter Elephant Track ice cream.  Well done my young son.  Well done.)

And corn.

No, that isn’t some odd Monkey Child we found on the street.  That is my kid.  Eating corn, as only he can do.

Between Shelly and I we had ribs, crab rangoon, curry (her choice)

some other crazy Indian/Chinese thing (also her choice) and I topped it all off while spending my last four dollars on the best piece of key lime pie this side of the Mississippi.

We all left happy (except Ben, who accidently let go of his ”very special to me” balloon) filled to the brim with great food and feeling just like this:

Thanks again Taste of Madison.  See ya next year.

I’m pretty sure that because I loaned a woman sunscreen at the pool last weekend, the Good Karma gods were looking down on Ben and I yesterday.  First his pink eye cleared up quite quickly (ain’t modern medicine grand?) And secondly, thanks to a very nice girl at Supercuts, who took one look at me, checked the calendar to make sure it wasn’t 1974 and therefore proceeded to take off 2 inches of my bad haircut, my mullet is now a thing of the past.  Just a bad dream. 

And thank goodness Carol Brady left the building because I had Shelly’s very fun birthday party to attend last night. 

Shelly realized how old she had just turned and fell right out of her chair!

 Oh there you are honey.  Welcome back. 

 You get a kiss for being upright!

Happy Birthday dear friend. 

I hope when you blew out your candles your wish was that this will be the year we get our shine under control. 

Once upon a time there were two beautiful women who had a free Saturday night. 

“What should we do?” asked Suzie.

“Well, Rhythm and Booms is going on tonight.” said Betsy.

“Eh. It’s too crowded there. And takes hours just to get out of the parking lot when it’s over. Let’s go to the Union and watch them there instead! It’s so pretty and not nearly as crowded.” said Suzie.

“GREAT IDEA!” said Betsy.

So off they went, with snacks in hand and beer money burning holes in their pockets. Once at the Terrace they found a table right away. Chairs on the other hand were hard to come by. But being the smart chickas that they were, they found not only 2 but 3 chairs. Just in case a friend stopped by.

 

It was a lovely night. And soon their table was filled with happiness.

The terrace was buzzing with folks of all ages out to see the Midwest’s Largest Fireworks.
But, oh no! What’s this? A big scary rain cloud?!?

“Not to worry,” said Suzie, “We have hoods!”

The rain didn’t last long and soon the fireworks started.

Oooooh…

Ahhhh…

After the fireworks, as the ladies were finishing up their drinks, Suzie said, “Hey, when my wonderful boyfriend and I go to Colorado in a couple of weeks, I want to give you a copy of our itinerary. Just in case.”
“Just in case you get eaten by bears, someone will know where you should have been? Hey! Does that make me your person?” asked Betsy with a smile.

“Yes, I guess it does.” said Suzie.
“Well, you’re my person too.” said Betsy.
And they lived as each other’s people, happily ever after.

The End.

*the fireworks pictures are not mine… but ARE from Rhythm and Booms.  Neither my camera or I is that good.  But don’t tell him that.  Might hurt his ego..

Have a Safe and Happy 4th of July Everyone!!!