I've never been great at keeping my opinions to myself and I am super thankful Facebook was not invented when I was young and dumb (for anyone who cares, FB became available in 2004 for college students. I was a college student in 2004. I was no longer young and dumb. That ended September 25, 2003 when I turned 18. FYI) I once read a quote (and forgive me if you've already heard me say this once or twice) that basically says, "if you can't say something nice, at least make it memorable". And you know what? I agree with that. For the most part.
I'll admit: I have word-vomited my way into some sticky situations, but for the most part, I'm able to control my filter. For the most part.
These riots in Missouri are ridiculous and out of hand. With new evidence coming up daily, who are we to trust? The media? Seems they are having a bit of word-vomit going on themselves these days. The police? Hmmm... I'm afraid that some government agencies would rather make County Cops out to be little pansies than an actual authoritative figures amongst all this chaos. The Black Panthers/ KKK (and yup, I'm grouping these together. I feel like both parties are out of control A-holes who are s**t-disturbers, but that is just my opinion. I will gladly take heat for my beliefs)? Puh-lease! Each group preaches about racial superiority under the pretense of equality through the use of peaceful protests. Yeah... I'll just skip over that part. It touches a nerve I'm not too proud of these days.
So, the world is getting to know good ole STL. Awesome. Living in AL and watching these events take place from afar is very different than I would've imagined. Watching CNN and MSNBC make it out like every single town in the mid-eastern part of the state is in chaos. Complete anarchy. Damn you, news team. Damn you.
So this weekend, I drove to Saint Louis. I left my children home alone with my husband for the first time. Ever. Yes, I know, he's fully capable of handling his own flesh and blood, but I was still nervous. I expected phone calls every hour and a couple middle of the night phone calls. I honestly cannot even begin to tell you all the anxiety I was feeling because it did not show up until I crossed over into Tennessee. Like literally, there's a big Welcome sign as you're crossing the border. What you don't see is the little "*" that is right after Tennessee Welcomes You... The asterisk clearly states, in Times New Roman font (probably size 10 or smaller), "...and your hidden anxieties...Mwahahahahahahah" and, I started panicking.
Did I leave my family with enough food? (Uh, no, I did not. I did this on purpose so my husband would appreciate going to the store with two crabby children and making it out alive, but just barely)
Did I write out their schedules for Friday? (Yes, thank God)
Did I write out instructions on the freezer meals I made? (Yes, I'm awesome)
Did I hang the laundry? (No... But I wanted to see if he would do that. I really wasn't holding my breath... Just... Hoping...)
Dear god, did I leave the car seats?!?! (Yeah, I pulled over to look in the back seat. For the millionth time. No car seats. Phew!)
And then, STL happened.
I thought for sure when I crossed over the bridge in downtown STL at 12:30am that I would see riots everywhere. I mean, the media had me scared for my life. And as I was clutching my bottle of Raid (yes, embarrassing, but per my friend, it shoots farther than mace and does more damage. <inserting my evil laugh>), I began to look around. Like REALLY look around. It looked like the same old St. Louis I had always known. As I drove through Clayton, Chesterfield and finally through to St. Charles, I thought the same thing, "Where. Is. Everybody?" I mean, I have no death wishes nor do I have any type of personal vendetta against anyone, but I thought for sure I'd at least see a bunch of police vehicles and ambulances blocking a road or two. Nope. Nothing. I actually didn't even see a police car anywhere. And I was looking. (And for the record, don't bitch about how cops are never there when you need them but are capable of pulling you over to ticket you. Don't break the law and you won't get pulled over. Period.) So, I made it to my destination and passed the eff out. It was 1am and I had been up for quite a while already that day.
I don't remember what I dreamt about, but, darn it, I woke up at SIX FREAKING O'CLOCK in the morning. Say it with me now, "What. The. Fuh." I was in a completely dark room, without children and my internal alarm clock decided to go off. It was some sort of sick joke God had played on me for thinking all of St. Louis county was erupting in flames I guess. Simple mistake, on my part. So, I took a Melatonin and went back to bed until 9:45. Phew. Then I met up with Ryan.
Do you ever have that friend that you've always viewed as a family member? Well, this is Ryan. My husband and I (and I say I loosely bc I had my own place) lived with him for a couple years in college. He is our "brother" (I'm sorry, I'm laughing now because I just said that like Ben Stiller from the movie Zoolander... "And I don't mean like an actual brother, but the way black people say it. Which is more meaningful I think..." Oh crap, I love that movie. I hope I can keep myself from quoting it some more. Sorry in advance) and well, to be frank, my husband and I live vicariously through Ryan lol. Maybe some day (after I've written my autobiography about this blog), I'll write about Ryan's life. It's hilarious. Ah, I should probably tell some stories, but I will refrain. This weekend is a girl's weekend and not about Ryan's back stories ;)
So I am doing some design work for Ryan and we met up to make improvements. It was fun. We spent a record-holding time of 5-hours at El Maguey. It was epic. I am sure when my husband gets back to STL he and Ryan will obviously try and beat that time. Obviously.
I also met up with some of my relatives. If you don't remember, I called my 90-yr old Great aunt at the beginning of the week and she was under the impression I was my younger sister, MiMi. Well, she was still under that impression when I called to tell her I, Becca, was picking her up. Then, she actually called my sister at 5:30 when I, again- BECCA-, was sitting in some traffic, wondering where she, MiMi, was... *sigh* so then I, becca, have to call Aunt Mary back and pretend I, becca, talked to MiMi about tonight and how she, MiMi, got called into work so I, Becca, was coming to pick her, Mary, up. Confused yet? Don't worry, so am I. Well, I surprised my Great Aunt by having some more relatives meet up with us at Applebee's. The whole time everyone is saying how great it was that I, Becca, organized this and how we need to do it again. We laughed so hard we had tears streaming down our face. I would tell stories, but sometimes, it's all about the Jewish accent and mannerisms while telling the stories. I could never do them justice. Anywho, as I'm taking my Great aunt back to her house, she tells me how great it was that MiMi organized this whole she-bang (my word, not hers) and how upset she was that my sister could not even be there to enjoy it... Oh well, I didn't do it to be recognized for my efforts lol. It was fun and I look forward to being senile- turning old friends into new ones every single day ;) I'm ready for it.
Ok, now the reason I was in STL was not for Ryan or the riots, though both are interesting and important and not even to have dinner with my relatives- though it is always a great time. The real reason I was in town, solo, was for my sister's bachelorette party. Yes, that time in every young bride-to-be's life where it's viewed as funny when people say things like, "you're getting married?! Don't do it!" "Suck for a buck? Hell yeah!" (<--- yeah... It's for a Dum-Dum/ Blow Pop) "want to do a blow job with me?" (<--- *rolling my eyes) it was a super fun night last night but man, I'm getting old.
I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start from yesterday morning.
For starters, we thought it would be a fantastic idea to take a pole dancing class. If you've never taken a pole dancing class, it is NOT like Hollywood movies.
It. Is. A. Work. Out.
We put on high heels and red lipstick and thought, "um yeah, totally ready to be freaking amazing at this". Ah, how naïve we were. Don't get me wrong, it was a lot of fun and we all felt pretty good about our skill levels, but I had back sweat. Pretty much got that after we started the class. We also all retained some form of "pole-kisses"... Mine happened to be a cut on my ankle & thigh, a friend had HUGE bruises on her shin and everyone else's legs and arms felt like jello from using them so much. I decided right then and there that I just worked off my alcohol for the night. Total win-win.
Next on the list: shopping. Before we could go to the mall, we needed to be dropped off at my dad's house. It was raining cats and dogs... And apparently bird poop too. There we all were, sitting in the car laughing about how much our muscles ached and how strippers really deserved more credit, when all-of-a-sudden, SMACK! Something nailed the side of the car. It seriously looked like someone had thrown mud at the window. Hard. Upon closer examination (and by that I mean we all looked at the window and then at each other) we determined this "mud splatter" to be bird poop. Clearly, the bird was probably dead or dying, lying in a ditch somewhere- bc no animal could've shit that much and still be alive. Luckily, like I said- it was raining pretty good. I hope all that poop got off the car without any scrubbing. So... We switched vehicles and went to the mall.
I have mom clothes. I have accepted this. So, we went shopping for something to make my apparent "mom-ness" less noticeable. We met up with my best friend and her little boy. He missed his nap. And now, normally, I'm totally cool with seeing other people's kids cry. In my mind I'm just thanking the sweet little 6 pound 7 ounce baby Jesus that it's not my child who's throwing a tantrum. It wasn't a full out tantrum, but more like an "I'm tired and my mom is a complete fun-sucker and making me sit in this damned stroller so I can't climb out and ruin the shoe display" type of tantrum. But yesterday, it bothered me. It made me miss my boys. I was actually doing so well (I thought). My husband had only texted me briefly about how Gray has had 5 poop diapers so far. And instead of being concerned for my baby's hydration levels, I was extatic that my husband had to change not one but five poopy diapers. It was just... Uh... Great. I'm twisted. I know. The baby is fine. The husband is traumatized. It's all good.
Now, I'm missing my boys. With babies on the brain, I see a "friend" who just had an adorable little baby girl and I wave to her. I cannot wait to ask her about mommy-hood and how the baby is doing. She hasn't acknowledged me so I wave a little more, thinking maybe she doesn't see me... As we get closer though, I realize, "wait, maybe that's not her"... As my hand is still in the air... We make eye contact. I can't even pretend to be waving to someone behind her because there WASN'T anyone behind her. So, I did what any smart woman would do: I pretended to adjust my ponytail holder and kept walking like she was the odd man out. It was still super awkward. But successful. My BFF and sister are laughing. A-holes.
So, my best friend decides her little guy has suffered enough torture for one shopping trip and leaves. My sister and I shop, eat, see a woman throw up her meal (as we are leaving the food court-- mom side of me kicked in and I started to walk over to her to help, but then it remembered smelling vomit makes me want to vomit. So we continued walking), see a lot of very strange people, shop some more and decided on an outfit for her to wear to her bachelorette party. Hurray! We also decided that we are not officially too old to shop in the junior section of any store. It was just weird. We got that "you're good looking, but way too old to be shopping in this part" look from some high schoolers. Awkward.
I didn't find anything to wear. Oh well. I have some dresses. Nothing sexy or risqué, but still- I'm a mom and married to a Marine... That in itself is the very definition of sexy. Duh. We get to the hotel to unload everything and LO-and-behold... A sexy dress... And it's MiMi's... And it fits me. Sweet.
I am not going to tell you everything that went down at the bachelorette party bc, and let's face it, "what happens at the bachelorette party, stays at the bachelorette party". I'll give you the highlights and a quick recap:
Van picks us up:
-spill beer all over the seat within the first 30 seconds of being inside
-someone makes a racial slur while telling a joke... And our driver was that same race
Hamburger Mary's:
-drag show... No one has any $1 bills... They work for tips
-the best line from the evening was coined by one of the performers "you know, if a bunch of guys can dress up and look this good, there's no excuse to ever see an ugly woman"
-met a 94-yr old Queen who looked like Isthma (spelling?) from Emperor's New Groove. (She was super nice)
-bachelorette gets wasted, orders a round of shots for everyone, aunt says she's picking up the tab, realizes how expensive it is and collects money from everyone (*hilariously laughing at this point*)
Bar Hopping:
-it's raining so we go to BallPark Village
-lots of line = keep losing members of our group
-get told That more people would hit on me if I would just smile bc I look too intimidating... Smh (bc my goal in life is to get hit on by weird men... Riiiiiiiiight...)
-realized the bar scene is no longer for me... Which means I'm now "officially" as old as my parents
-saw a girl I used to coach in gymnastics. Drinking. She's 22. Omg. I. Am. Old. Again.
-2 girls in our party are walking with eachother, see a guy they both know and awkwardly say hi. As they are walking away, one says to the other (and I kid you not), "did you have sex with him?" To which the other girl replies, "uhhhhhhhh...yeah" and then the first girl says, "yeah, me too"
Hotel Room:
-drunk tears
-the drunks pass out
-the drunks start to snore
-I was NOT drunk. I was not passed out. I could not sleep because of the snoring.
I drove home this morning. In rain. But I'm home. My boys missed me but everyone survived. There was no dinner made for me when I got home. No laundry was done. The laundry I left was still on the hangers in the laundry room and not put away. But everyone was fed and bathed. So now here I am. Tired. More tired than before I left. There will come a time when I am not tired. I look forward to that day. For now, though, I need to sleep. I am on pins and needles while these riots are going on and affecting my family so I do not think sleep is in my near future.
Please keep Missourians in your thoughts and prayers. The protestors are peacefully protesting, the police officers are trying to protect those not involved and also themselves and businesses, but they can only do so much. Please try and remember that the media has a way of spinning stories and, while one story holds true today, another one has the potential to come out tomorrow that could disprove everything. Keep an open mind and don't point fingers just yet. Gosh, that's easier said than done.
