Labor Day weekend in the desert.

These short weeks are spoiling me...I had planned on taking the day after our draft off, knowing full well how fantasy football drafts go. What I hadn't planned was being on a plane that afternoon. Apparently one of my good friends had a free ticket on Delta he needed to use, and I didn't have any plans for the weekend, so I said 'what the hell?!', and off to sunny AZ we were.

After a relatively uneventful couple of flights (super cool neighbor on the second leg), the first stop? In 'n Out Burger. I mean duh, where else would it have been?! I'll give you a point if you guessed bar, since that's also a reasonable place for me to go right off the bat. I hadn't been to the western part of the states in god knows how long, so I was an In 'n Out virgin. I've heard it's amazing, and all my friends that have been there rave about it on and on and on and on, so of course I had to try it. I don't generally eat fast food, as a former fat kid, I really have to be careful about what I eat, but there are always exceptions to rules, and this was too good to pass up. I really didn't think I'd eat the whole thing, but dear god was it delicious. Yes, I had a Double Double Animal Style. I still have no idea what "animal style' means, other than pure awesomeness.

After that we checked into the W, I scored a sweet new dress and off to some gay bar we went. It wasn't super crowded, got a spot at the bar, had numerous jello shots (they were for a good cause!!), met some cool servers and some other cool peeps. There are quite a few things I love about gay bars, which I just decided I will dedicate an entire blog post to in the future. At some point I guess the bartenders wanted to go home, so we hopped a pedi-cab and back to the hotel we went. Super swank room at the W - not nearly as cool as the one I stayed at in Minneapolis, but it was nice. I slept on the killer purple couch.

Saturday we had to run a couple of errands - picking up stuff, mailing it back to MN, haircuts and eyebrow waxes, a bit of shopping, and of course, mimosas. After accomplishing all of these goals, we stopped at a little go-kart place because if I'm anything, it's a giant kid. Go-Karts, Bumper Boats, and Skee Ball!! Ok, so my back hurt a little after playing Skee Ball for an hour, and I learned that I'm now too big for go-karts (also, don't wear a skirt to go-kart; lesson learned), but it seriously was a super fun afternoon.

We switched hotels on Saturday, something about keeping platinum status or something, so we ended up at the Phoenician. In a word, stunning. I work in the hospitality industry, so it's rare that I'm impressed with a hotel or resort, but this place was incredible. Might be the only time in my life I've stayed at a 5-diamond resort. It was gorgeous. After an afternoon spent being ridiculously lazy, we were off to the bar. Went back to the same one and it was much busier. I'm not generally a fan of packed bars, but after a couple of drinks, I was fine. Managed to meet about the only straight single guy in the place, which was awesome (it'd be even more awesome if I remembered his name....). The four of us went kicked it at an after bar somewhere and then back to the hotel to be bums.

Sunday brought more errands, more arguments and more food. We ended up back at the W at some point in the afternoon. Room wasn't ready, so we went to Sushi Roku to cocktail and kill time until the room was ready, or I had to be at the airport, whichever came first. After a while a couple chicks came down from the pool and we started talking to them. Super cool girls, which doesn't happen very often. Their friends were playing at some bar who's name I also can't recall, so I walked there with them and took a cab to the airport to catch my red eye back to the Big Sleaze.

Overall it was a decent weekend...not too expensive, not too many arguments. It was however, nice to be back here. It's almost starting to feel like home. But that's yet another story for a different day.

Good Deed of the Week

My first day on the job, our HR director let us know that she needed volunteers for a Habitat for Humanity build. As I'm new around here, and didn't see anything pressing on my agenda, I said I'd be happy to. From what I've heard about it, painting was going to be about as "manual labor" as I would have to get.

My assistant picked me up, and I navigated. Apparently it was in a part of town she'd never been (AKA: not the best part). We arrived on time, she introduced me to some people, we got our shirts and then we gathered. The area General Managers spoke and then we were given our tasks. Mine was not painting. Ugh. You mean I was going to have to pick up a shovel?!?

And so it was. We had to shovel out 6" deep for an 8' wide driveway, all the way to the sidewalk. Thankfully there was a sidewalk already there, so we didn't have to dig that too. We had to cut boards for stakes to mark where we were shoveling. We had to make the ground higher near the house and slope it down towards the sidewalk. Something about rain and drainage around here?? I have never seen my hands in worse shape than they were over the weekend. They still haven't completely healed.

Overall it was a great experience. I met a lot of people that work for various hotels and expanded my network just a little bit. I did something good for someone less fortunate than me for no reason at all. However, I will limit my volunteering in the future to the events where I get to see the appreciation on the recipients face. I know that volunteering is supposed to be done completely selflessly and all that, but the truth of the matter is that I get out of it just as much as the recipient does. But I want to see them appreciate it. It may sound selfish, but it's that gratefulness and appreciation that drives me and makes me want to do more. Do it more often, do it for longer, recruit others to the cause, whatever that cause may be. I don't donate money to non-profits, but will round up the best silent auction donation items you'll ever see (and likely even bid on them!). I'm happy to put a contact from a worthy cause in touch with a decision maker. This H4H build though....first and last. I'll be supportive and whatever, but I'd love to see what that house (or any other H4H builds) looks like a year or two or ten after we've put our time and sweat equity into it.

I know that last sentence sounds extremely cynical, and not in the same vein as the rest of the post. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure the majority of recipients of H4H homes appreciate them and take care of them until they get back on their feet. As such, I'll stick to the group I love working with the most: Special Olympics. I'd give up any day/night of my life to help this organization.

First weekend in the Big Sleaze...

And there was nothing sleazy about it. Friday after work, we were in need of cocktails, so my assistant and I headed to the local. We sat around chatting for a while when the douche from the previous evening waltzed in. Wearing a backwards hat. Sweet, sweet vindication. I love when I make good decisions.

A good friend of mine mentioned that he had another friend that just moved here. We had tried getting together the during the week, but couldn't connect. Anyhow, he said he'd meet us at the bar. In the meantime, another couple of guys had come into the bar, one of whom was also from Minnesota! Finally!! Backup for me!! I wasn't outnumbered by Saints fans!! The five of us laughed and drank and then departed. My assistant needed to get home, so C and I dropped her off. Then he decided he wanted to try his hand at being a "tour guide". So I capitulated and agreed to let him drag me down Bourbon Street. I had been there on a Wednesday, but that was nothing compared to a Friday night in the Quarter.

It's all really fuzzy, but suffice to say, we had some decent beers at the BeerHouse (I think that was the name of it), a Hurricane at Pat O'Briens (during which I NEEDED to call Andi and share the news with her, even though it was 1:30 in the morning and she was DYING to hear from me at this time), bought a "wish stick" at a voodoo shop, and then ended up a a blues bar. The last place was pretty cool. We were testing the theory of bars never closing around here, but only lasted until sometime after 4:30....what can I say, there were cocktails involved?! Suffice to say, I didn't really move out of my bed on Saturday. I ventured out for a bloody at Jean Lafitte's Old Absinthe House, and a gyro, and that was about it. Until 4 or so, when my assistant called again.

She was my tour guide for the afternoon/evening, and let's just say it was a MUCH different tour. We drove around in the Quarter, the Marigny, Mid-City, Bayou St. John and a couple other places. I showed her the house I was looking at and she agreed that it was adorable (more on that in a future post). It happens to be just a few blocks from THE Irish pub in NO - Finn McCool's. Irish as in, owned by Irish peeps right off the boat. A few pints of Guinness were had, and then it started...the whiskey drinking.

I do not generally drink whiskey. I do not generally do anything with whiskey except look at it with disdain. Or pour it out. I strongly dislike the flavor. In the last couple of years, I have been ok with drinking Jameson when it is the only thing in the house, or bar, or garage. I rarely enjoy it. However, when a "nice"* Irish guy that reminds you of Ireland buys Red Breast whiskey (which apparently is pretty good stuff), you drink it. And then you return the favor. And before you know it, you're extremely jealous of your sister, who happens to be a certified whiskey taster.

*in yet another future post, I will explain further the quotes surrounding the whiskey buyer.

Another friend had made an introduction to one of his friends, so I cleared with my assistant that it was cool for me to take off. Plus, I figured she was in good hands. So, off we went to Mick's for karaoke. Drinks were had, bad music was listened to, some good music was listened to and eventually I just needed to sleep....called a cab and made it safely to the confines of my bed, Sunday was pretty much a repeat of Saturday - minus the bloody. I did drink about three gallons of Gatorade though, and was still thirsty. Ordered a pizza for dinner, took a long, hot bath, and watched a ton of chick flicks. Of all the places to have a Sunday Funday, this is the place for it....I just wasn't having it yesterday. There will be many more opportunities, I'm sure.

Tonight will be another low key night. Hopefully picking up keys for my new apartment(!!!) and then watching the season (and series) finale of 24. Have a packed week of training at work, volunteering at work, and still figuring out exactly how I fit in around here. I'll get there. And then I hope all of you do too.

P.S. I WILL be at the Vikes/Saints game 9/9/10. It's official. My buddy bought two tickets and I have my name on the other one now. So, my offer still stands....I'm going to buy 4 tickets - first peeps to send me flight confirmations have first rights to purchase said tickets from me. I'll sell them for what I paid....though the one I'm going on is just south of $200. Do with that info what you wish!

The more things change...

The more they stay the same.....

I'm glad my phone wouldn't let me write this portion of the blog - a few too many Guinness coupled with an irritated lady do not make for niceness. I checked out the apartment in the Quarter, and it was, as expected, quite the fixer-upper. I could see the cuteness of it, but the lack of laundry is really what made me say no. So the search continues.

One of my colleagues was having a day from hell, so happy hour was a must. I had an appointment to look at another place, but we were having too much fun, and so I rescheduled it for today. After my counterpart left, it was just myself and our assistant. We were laughing and discussing the plans for the rest of the evening when a cute boy sat down next to me. He had been in the bar before, and while I thought he was cute, the first thing I noticed was his height. Or lack thereof.

Anyone that knows me knows I'm a tall drink of water. I'm 5'10" flat footed and can frequently be found in 3+" heels. While I'm not opposed to dating someone the same height, I generally don't date guys that are shorter than me. Not that I had any inclination to think he'd even be interested, just throwing it out there. There have been exceptions to the rule, and it's not to say I wouldn't again, but my preference regarding the male species is that they are taller than me. I applaud Nicole Kidman for doing it for so long, but even she upgraded in the height department.

Eventually he introduced himself to us ladies, and apparently works pretty close to us (he also happens to have the same name as my sisters fiancé, so that's strike two). He challenged me to a Google duel with my iPhone (he works for Verizon) and I handily kicked his ass. As such, he bought us a round of drinks. My lady friend departed to some pool thing with her brother, and so I was left to my own devices with this boy.

Pool sounded interesting to me, so we went to some divey place called Chucks. On the walk over, he was telling me about some dating service and arguing about why it was ok for Clinton to get his knob slobbed in the Oval Office by some intern (he for some reason felt it was - strike three). Drinks were ordered, pool table was racked. He made mention of getting laid and I made mention of if he wanted to get laid, he was hanging out with the wrong chick and should probably find somewhere else to get tail. He apparently kept trying, but would not acquiesce to my request for at least a couple of dates first.

Here's where I get irritated. His exact words (or close enough since by this point things were a bit fuzzy) were, "I think you and I will be great friends.". Which I'm completely fine with!! Duh, I just moved here! Dating is the last thing on my mind, and even if it weren't, you're STILL shorter than me! So, my response, in typical me fashion, was, "That's cool. I don't usually date guys that are shorter than me anyway.". Apparently he felt this was a hit below the belt. I was simply stating a fact. When a guy says "I think we'll be good friends", a chick hears "I'm not interested in anything other than sleeping with you", which I had made VERY clear wasn't going to happen. Why is that so flippin difficult to understand!? I very clearly stated my intentions, and he gets upset and calls ME a game player?! WTF?!?! THIS, this is the precise reason I'm not dating! Men are too effing stupid! That's not to say I'm even remotely entertaining the thought of going the other way about it, but whatever.

So he gets huffy and leaves. I'm standing there, in complete disbelief that I've just been left in a bar, by a somewhat cute boy, pool cue in hand, and about ready to cry. I walk to the bathroom, look at myself in the mirror, and say, "He's not worth it. He's not worth crying over. You said what you needed to, and he couldn't handle it, and there's no sense in being upset over someone that's being an idiot.". I pulled it together, sat down at the bar, smoked a cigarette, thanked the bartender for taking care of us and walked out the door, head held high.

And there he is. Across the street on the phone (likely looking for a backup to nail). He crossed to my side of the street and anything he said, I really didn't hear. I just kept walking. I made it to the end of the corner and turned around. He was still standing there. Looking forlornly at me, I think hoping I'd come back. And so, of course, in typical me fashion, I did. He tried to pull me in for a kiss, but I was so steamed I was having none of it. I tried to stop being so emasculating earlier in the evening, but I just couldn't help myself. I pulled up the keypad on my phone and told him he had 5 seconds to give me his number or it was the last time he'd see me. And the countdown was on. He kept trying to speak, but nothing that came out of his mouth was a number. So when I got to zero, I turned around, wrested my arm from his grip and walked away into the night. Part of me hoped he'd come running after me, but the smarter part of me is glad he didn't. I didn't turn around once. And when I got back to my room, and put my head on the pillow, all was right in the world.

He said us meeting was fate, and while it may be, I still think he's a douche and doesn't deserve even the lowliest title of acquaintance.

On to happier things! There is a festival here this weekend called Bayou Boogaloo. I'm so in, it's ridiculous. Will report back on Monday. Have a good weekend all!

Wa wa wee wa!

Hey hey!! For the first time in my entire life, I've moved away from home. I don't count the year I spent at Mankato State as being away from home (mainly because I was home every stinkin weekend), so this is quite the jump. I had a dream of moving to the Big Apple and instead I'm in the Big Easy. I will still get to Manhattan, but for now, I'm good here. I'll share the chronicles of the drive down, and everything leading up to it in future posts, but I'll give my first impressions of the city that's below sea level today. Once my computer arrives in a couple of weeks, I'll have more of an opportunity to be a regular poster and contributer.

My first night here was Wednesday. I checked into my new hotel and had dinner in the bar. After talking to Sam for a while, I decided to check out this thing called Bourbon Street. You may have heard of it. I certainly had, and it was everything I expected and more. I only walked a few blocks down, past a bunch of gentlemen's clubs, and found a bar with a live band and 3-for-1's! Seriously? Granted my Red Bull/Vodka was $16, but still....it was huge! And I'm not normally a size queen. The band was pretty good too. I made friends with an older couple (George and Susie, you're absolutely adorable!!), and a few guys that were in town doing some contracting work of some sort. We found an Irish pub (I'm a complete sucker for a good Irish pub) and played pool and then I headed back home.

Thursday I slept in, ordered room service, and met my new co-workers. They seemed really nice and I think I'm going to fit in just wonderfully. A friend of a friend picked me up and toured me around the city a bit. I really like the Uptown area. This weekend I'll do more driving around as I don't generally like sleeping while I work (or having the pen dipped in the company ink). Just makes me too accessible.

Friday I had some loose ends to tie up in Minneapolis so I went back for the weekend. Yesterday marked the first day on the job - touring around the building, meeting some of my new colleagues, an all afternoon meeting and a quick reception. I'd been hearing nothing but wonderful things about the Cuban sandwich at Cajun Mikes, and since I was unable to get one on Sunday (stupid wonderful crawfish boil!), I went back Monday. And it was wonderful. So were the people I was sitting next to. So wonderful, in fact, that I ended up staying way past my bedtime (completely missing my date with Jack Bauer), and laughed and laughed and laughed. Also, I will be back on Wednesday to try said Cuban sandwich with bacon. Bacon makes everything better, I say.

All in all, the first few days have been wonderful, and I'm excited to discover all this city has to offer in the coming years. That's right, I plan on being here at least three years. C'mon, I want to be at a Super Bowl dammit!! And hopefully the Vikings will be in it. There are a lot of things I will adopt about this city - po' boys, crawfish, jambalya, gumbo, Mardi Gras, Jazzfest, all the other Fests - but the Saints are NOT one of them. This girl is a Viking fan for life. Please don't beat me up because of it.

Lastly, I don't care what anyone says, Minnesota Nice is a farce. I was born and raised there, and it's a load of crap. It's more like Minnesota Passive-Agressive. Southern Hospitality is where it's at. Thanks for being so welcoming so far. I truly cannot wait to fall in love with this city and the people here.