NASA and JELLO Should Sponser the Bolder Boulder

I am so sore.

Like I can't move and it took all of my energy to unload the dishwasher.

I know. It's kind of pathetic that I'm so sore after the Bolder Boulder, but I actually tried to jog part of it. I never go much faster than a stroll, so it was quite an accomplishment for me.

It may not be an accomplishment for others, like runners or those girls who leap frog the whole 10K or that girl who hopped it all on a pogo-stick, but it is for me.

And I learned one thing:

The street is really, really hard. Like shooting pains up my shins and legs with every stride. My whole body is feeling the pain of pounding on the hard street. It hurts to breath. It hurts to squint... ok, that's not from the BB. My eyes are all dry and still a little swollen from the makeup remover from hell. But I believe that it is exasperated because of the BB.

Anyway, I think that the city should consider doing the BB on some sort of rubber material next year. You know, like that mattress stuff invented by NASA (by the way, what guy at NASA got that assignment?? Was he proud... or depressed that his dreams of flying to the moon were crushed by a... mattress?). OR old tire stuff that they use on playgrounds...

That would be much better.

Or JELLO!!

Again... pathetic.

I spent all day lying on the couch, watching crappy TV and DVDs. I guess I really needed a day to relax after my vacation... which seems weird... but understandable, given my weekend.

I don't know what to write... as I'm sure you can tell.

Bonnie is currently freaking out. Whining and barking. That could mean that there is a dog at the fence, or a murderer in the backyard... or maybe that old guy who walks down Aurora with no shoes on and his hair in a ponytail while carrying a duffel bag with a six-pack of Keystone Lite (I assume)... or it's nothing.

Hannah's not barking, which means it's probably nothing. If she were barking, I wouldn't be typing as much as calling 911... or Mike, at least.

Hannah is my security system. Bonnie is the security system that goes off at odd hours and for no known reason.

Bonnie is completely paranoid... I think it's the fact that her tail was chopped off. Does she remember? Is that why she has such a fascination with her bootylicious behind?

Will we ever really know?

Well, of course not... because Bonnie is... well, a doggie. Duh.

VIP or Bust

I'm on Benadryl right now, so this post could go a couple of ways: it could be hilarious, completely dull, or totally effd up... or a combination.

But I guess that's how my posts are most of the time anyway.

I'm on Benadryl because my eyes are totally swollen, red and itchy. I used some eye cream stuff and my the skin around my eyes got angry and decided to become red and purple and puffy...

Not fun to do the Bolder Boulder with.

But let's start at the beginning. I left for Sin City on Thursday and returned yesterday. I was too tired to post, so I now have even more to share.

I will just do highlites, hopefully chronologically.

Jeannie has never been on a real flight before... or on a moving sidewalk, for that matter. So the airport was a flurry of excitement. I didn't think we would make the flight because Jeannie was having too much fun on the sidewalks (or the airport rides, as we told her they were). Needless to say... Vegas was a bit a change for the Kansas gals.

When we got to Vegas, the car that was supposed to be there was not. In fact, they had no record of a ride for us at all. So we had to sit at the airport while I convinced them to send a driver for us.

While we sat there, two separate guys walked up offering VIP passes for clubs (Jet in the Mirage and Tao in the Venetian). I guess that it's there jobs to find young women to get to come to their clubs. Note: they don't do this for guys... they assume that if they get enough hot girls in, the men will follow... and buy the drinks.

We took the passes, but never went to the clubs.

We finally got a ride with a guy who kept asking us to guess his age, which is the dumbest game ever. What am I supposed to say (well, I didn't say anything. I let Jeannie do the talking because she is the cute one. She could tell him he looked like he was about to keel over and die and he would still have thought she was the sweetest thing since candy corn)? Of course I'm not going to tell you, "yeah, you look 67"... even if you clearly are. I'll always say, "oh, 33... maybe 34" because I don't want to say you look as old as you actually are.

The guy was almost 39... he looked 45... Jeannie "guessed" 30... and probably made his day.

Our room was great. It was on the 25th floor and faced the strip, which was awesome at night. The best part was the tub, which could fit 3 fully grown girls from Colorado and Kansas... I assume.

We went to the Forum Shops, to find Jeannie some shoes. The cab ride back was like the cab ride from hell, with the driver from hell, who took us to the wrong hotel, and then drove 30 mph over 2 ft high speed bumps... and then asked why he got a lousy tip...

I held Jeannie's hand the whole way...

We dressed up and went to Nove that night. It's an Italian restaurant on the 50th floor of The Palms. When we sat down, the manager gave us free champagne. He also brought us free appetizers (that tasted sort of like cat food... but it was free... so we ate them), and then the waiter took an espresso shot with us that was on the house.

But the BEST part, by far, was desert (which they also gave to us for free). They were mini cannoli shells that we filled with the creamy filling ourselves, and decorated with a selection of about 16 toppings. It was incredible.

I would go back to Vegas just for that desert.

Then we were escorted up, through the employee escalator, to The Playboy Club. It's actually more of a lounge, but there is no place to sit. Scratch that. There are plenty of places to sit, but only if you are VIP. Although we were treated very well... we were not treated that well.

The Playboy Club was a pretty big let down, overall. The Bunnies were SO MEAN... and it was pretty tiny. But the bathrooms were cool. Playboy photos are all over the walls and the doors to the stalls are full-size naked chicks. And when you close the doors, it's her whole body from the back.

That will be in my next house.

Then we went to Moon. Moon is a cool club. Although there is still no place to sit (except for VIP), the dancing was fun. There are go-go dancers on the booths and the ceiling retracts, showing you the moon (... hey! I get it!). Plus, there is a huge balcony with great views of the strip.

I sat down on an (empty) ottoman to fix my shoe, and a security guard almost ninja chopped me off of the balcony.

Then we went back to the room and took a bubble bath (in our bathing suits).

The next day we went to a couple of the hotels on the strip. This was not the original plan. The original plan was to go to the pool party. But there is no pool party when there is no sun, and when it is raining. We had reserved seats, which we curled up on under huge towels and almost fell asleep (until one of the life guards told us that the pool was not for napping, it was for drinking and partying... but I slept anyway).

So we left, but not before getting one of the 1/2 yard long cups with pina coladas in it.

I'm having Mike make mine into a Piggy Bank.

We went to Dane Cook at The Colosseum in Caesar's that night, which was fun, but made us tired.

There was also a Pussycat Dolls Lounge, where the original PCDs were going to perform their new single... but we did not get to see that. But that's OK, because I go to the Playboy Club to see my half/fully naked chicas.

I don't need no stinkin dolls... I have (mean) bunnies.

I won $10.83 at the penny slots, which made me feel like a high rollin' pimp...

We went to this little club at The Mirage that was called Revolution. It's supposed to be Beatles themed, but I'm pretty sure that the living Beatles would never go there and that the dead one's would rather... be dead.

It was too crowded, a girl ran in to me while grinding on another girl, and the bartender charged me five bucks for a club soda.

So we went home to bed.

Our last day we covered the rest of The Strip, which was exhausting. Then we took a nap and got ready for our last night in Vegas. I wore my new super cute dress, and we went to the Mexican restaurant in the lobby of The Palms where we had frozen drinks and greasy, cheesy appetizers (to soak up the alcohol).

Then we tried to go to Rain (the first big club at The Palms).

The manager had given me VIP passes at check in. I flashed one at the security guard and expected to be escorted up to the club on the pony of my choice with champagne and caviar.

Instead, he informed me that the pass didn't work, because it was a special occasion weekend. Stupid manager, giving us passes that don't even work.

So we decided that we could slum it and wait in line...

Then we found out that the cover was $40.

No club is worth that... so we went shopping at the gift shop and Playboy store, and then played the penny slots some more. I ended up coming out $4 ahead by the end of the trip.

Big Pimpin...

Then it was back to the room to pack and end the trip where it started... with a bubble bath.

When I got home, I had to go down to Wheatridge to go to my grandma's get together for her friends from Texas. It was a lot of old ladies and boxed white zinfandel.

This morning was the Bolder Boulder. I did it by myself, and my eyes burned the whole way. I thought they were going to swell shut. But I made it, and I am proud of myself for doing it after a crazy Vegas weekend.

I told Jeannie and Kayla that we walked off all of the cannolis, pies, fried food, and booze from our trip... which is always a good thing.

At lunch, I asked Mike if we could get some cucumbers to put on my red, swollen eyes...

He said I could just use some cheese.

My House is a Swimming Pool

In my mind, I am totally already on vacation. I am going to Vegas on Thursday, and cannot wait at all.

I am going to party it up at The Palms (and I don't have to pay the cover, and I get to skip the lines!)... and see Dane Cook at Caesars... and not be on a diet... woohoo!

Since I'll be gone all weekend, I decided to go have dinner at the cafe tonight, so that I could see Mike. I ate too fast, so I decided to do some walking for awhile to move some of the trout and mashed potatoes around.

I walked right into a lovely little store with lovely little clothes at lovely reasonable prices. How lovely.

I was the only customer in the store, and decided to try on, oh, about a billion (20) outfits that seemed Vegas-rific.

I ended up buying three things. It sucks. Usually when I buy something cute, I call Mom. But she is cruising the Mediterranean Sea right now... so that doesn't work too well.

When I got home I set up the sprinkler (hear that Dad! I'm watering the lawn!). Our lawn is a weird shape, so I have to turn the sprinkler on all the way to reach all of the thirsty grass.

Well, that means that I also end up watering the house, too. So when I walked in, the entire front part of my house - the inside - was wet... including the dogs.

At least my house it hydrated.

My foot is also covered in freaking mud! I just went out to turn off the sprinkler, and slipped in a huge pile of mud. See, my thirsty lawn is mostly thirsty piles of dirt...

I hate having to wash my shoes in the sink.

While I was walking the dogs, we took a detour to THE ROCK OF GOD!!! It was lit up all pretty like heaven was shining on it...

So Bonnie scaled it... and then did a face flop right into the ground. She tried to play it off all cool, like she meant to do it, by rolling around a little before getting up. Poor pumpkin.

THE ROCK OF GOD smoted (pass tense of smite) her.

No Boys Needed

I wanted to read outside when I got home from work. I thought to myself:

Wouldn't it be lovely to read out in the backyard? Aha! We have a hammock in the shed! Oh, but Mike is not home, so I have to wait for him to put it together... Wait! No I don't!! I don't need no stinkin' man! I can do it myself! Hoorah!

So I went into the shed and pulled out all of the big metal pipes that hold up the hammock (it's free standing). It made no sense to me.

That was until I turned the base over so that I could actually put it together. Amazing how that works.

I was able to get it together just fine. I mean, I wouldn't put a famous baby in there or anything, but I believe that my engineering integrity will hold up.

Then I had to clean it. So I filled up a tupperwear with hot, soapy water, and brought a towel outside. I had to keep chasing Bonnie and Hannah away from it, because they really wanted to lick the bubbles, but I am a mean mama and said no.

So I started washing down the hammock. I realized that there are red dots splattered all over it. Probably just bug stuff... but then I remembered that one of the Gatti boys cracked his freaking head open on the hammock a couple of years ago.

Hmm... could it possibly be head blood splattered?

So I got some Hydrogen Peroxide and tried to clean it all off. It didn't work, but I figure at least it's all sanitized and stuff.

I don't like saying that my hammock is ugly because of some kid falling off and cracking his skull open... it's not exciting enough. So I've decided on this story instead:

Mike was chilling out when some dude who looked like Nick Cage came over and was like, "Yo, dude, can I have your roommates number?" And Mike was like, "Yo, Nick-Cage-Wannabe, she's my girl, not my roommate." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah", and then Mike karate chopped the other guys nose off with his Costa Rican machete. See, our hammock is all gross because Mike had to defend my honor...

Much cooler story.

WELL, I then had to wash the soap off, so I dragged the hose to the backyard, and sprayed the hammock. Again, I had to keep the dogs from licking all of the new bubbles, and Hannah kept trying to bite the water streaming from the hose... Bonnie was scared of it.

Then I had to find some way to attach the pillow thing to it... so I found an old locker lock and attached the pillow. Now Bonnie and Hannah can't attack it and take it to a land where nobody will ever find it, a fate many of my socks have suffered.

I am quite the genius.

Then I decided to fill up our fountain. At one point, we had some fish in there, but I think (hope) that they moved on to fishy heaven some time ago. Anyway, I put the hose in the fountain to fill it up. I turned around and saw Bonnie trying to catch the water droplets dripping from the hammock. Silly curly haired weirdo.

So I wanted to see if I could get the fountain to work. Well, I found a power thingy (technical term), but the power line was chewed through. So I'm thinking maybe I won't be able to fix it. But that doesn't stop me from thinking that maybe I'm looking at the wrong thingy, so I think of what Mike does. He picks some box thingy (another technical term) out of the fountain and unclogs it. So I thought, I'll just wait for Mike, because I don't want to get my hands gross and I am convinced that there was at one time a snake in there... and Mr. Snake could be back...

But I don't need no stinkin' man. So I stuck my pretty little hand in the yucky fountain and tried to pull seaweed (fountain weed) off of the thingy (and it looked just like a freaking snake, too).

And it...

didn't work. Oh well.

How Far Would YOU Walk for a Booger Thing?

I took Hannah to the Dog Park today so that she could play in the (really gross) pond there. She attempted to spend the whole time in between my legs, but was drawn out into the water by ample amounts of tennis balls.

She even tried to get two balls in her mouth at a time while she was in the middle of the lake, but ended up just getting one ball and a couple of lung-fulls of yucky pond water.

The other dogs would bully her, because she is that kid on the playground who just screams wuss. She would be swimming back from the center of the pond with her ball and some Rottweiler or Poodle or Schnauzer would stare her down, causing her little eyebrows to go into a worried arch and prompting her to drop her hard earned ball at their feet. They would take the ball, and run away, leaving me with having to wade in and get another filthy ball to throw for her.
The water was gross...
She smells bad now...
So do I.

I then decided that I wanted a Boba Tea. Boba Tea is milk tea with little balls of tapioca stuff at the bottom. It comes in millions of flavors. I like the more traditional (and yummy) chocolate or vanilla bean. There are also a lot of fruit flavors, like watermelon, mango, and cherry. There are also more obscure flavors, like jasmine, rose, starfruit, and I even saw the flavor "smoke".

I know... what kind of freak drinks smoke flavored tea? And is it like a fire smoke flavor, or smoky BBQ flavor, or a flavor from the cigarette variety?


Anywho, it usually comes as an iced milk tea, but today I got a frozen one. The tapioca balls are incredibly disgusting and gross me out (they have the consistency of a booger), but I am completely entranced with them. I hate them, but I love them. They are just plain interesting, creating a party in my mouth (much like my famous toothbrush). You get this wide mouth straw so the boba can come up with the liquid. Again, gross, but awesome.

Well, Boba Tea, especially a chocolate flavored frozen one, is not exactly Weight Watchers approved, so I decided that if I wanted it, I had to earn it. So I put on my headphones, started a playlist, got my floppy sun hat (that makes me look like an old Jew from Florida... sorry... first image I got), and hit the road.

The boba place is on The Hill, which is about 1.8 miles one way (I Google mapped it). So, I decided that making the trip on foot was well worth a Boba treat. I also decided to bring my book, which is almost 700 pages, and I think that counts as some sort of weight lifting.

It was very nice walking up there. I probably should not have worn flip flops, as my right foot is spontaneously falling asleep now, but all was good. It's fun to be on campus when it is empty.

Of course, the university takes this time to spray poison all over the lawns, so I couldn't lie in the grass... or frolic while singing Sound of Music at the top of my lungs...

Oh well.

I read a little, and cooled down in the UMC fountain. There are a lot of people who come over the summer to check out the place with their prospective students. I wonder if they look at me with my Boba Tea and old lady hat and say: "This looks like a great place to send Jimmy".

Or if they see me and think: "Damn hippie, avert your eyes Jimmy".

Now that's something to ponder...

My Life is NOT Depressing... Well, Sorta.

I have one of those battery powered toothbrushes. I like it, because it's more interesting than regular toothbrushes. It's like a party in my mouth.

Michael says that I depress him because I have no hobbies. Well, after reading the above blurb about my super cool toothbrush... I agree. That is depressing.

I don't have any real hobbies. I never have. I get bored easily. The fact that I have kept up this blog has surprised us all. I am quitter. As my dad once told me: "Ally, you come from a long line of quitters."

Wise man, that dad guy.

I just don't have a lot of passion... or a strong work ethic (wisdom that my mother gave me when I was 12). Plus, I don't really know what I like. I think that that is one reason why the whole question of what my future holds is a mystery to me. I just don't know. Do I really have to know right now? I don't think so, but it would be nice if I did. I'll start small. In August, I will begin looking for a new job. Between now and then, I will keep working at WOG, and I will go to Vegas and Greece.

Sounds good to me. Baby steps to the future... baby steps to the future.

Speaking of Vegas, we get to go see Dane Cook at Caesar's Palace. A woman at work asked if he's as raunchy in his stand-up as she's heard. As far as I know, he's worse:

HER: Well, you know, there's something kinda cute about a hot guy who's raunchy. It's kinda hot. Not like when someone, like Robin Williams, is raunchy. Although it's hilarious, it's not sexy. Williams is still a hairy beast. But Dane Cook is like a bad boy, and that's sexy."
ME: I agree...

Random ramble: You know how the show Family Guy is created and written and stuff by Alex Bornstein. Quick: picture Alex Bornstein.

Alex is a chick.

I think that it is interesting, because I assumed that Alex Bornstein was a dude. Even with all that I've learned about assuming making you a douche (...wait... or is it an ass out of you and me... I get it!), I still have my preconceived notions about things.

Family Guy is on right now... that's why I bring it up.

Back to my toothbrush. I have this weird problem with brushing my teeth. I think that it is because I have more teeth than the average gal. Not really, but my dad says that it looks like I do, because of the sheer size of my teeth and all.

Again, wise.

Anywho, I produce an amazing amount of toothpaste foam. It gets all over my lips and my toothbrush, and the mirror, sink, and ceiling (I assume... I've never actually checked the ceiling). It is really annoying, and messy. I am not sure why this happens, as it does not happen to other people that I have had the pleasure of brushing my pearly whites with.

I also get heartburn from toothpaste. Not all the time, but enough times to make me check to see if spicy food or anti-freeze are ingredients in Colgate Total.

I know... weird... and depressing.

Another weird thing about my abnormally huge teeth is that they hurt when the weather is a certain temperature. Like if I'm smiling when there is a breeze, or breathing hard outside. My freaking teeth hurt so bad, like they are breaking.

I think my mouth needs therapy.

At least there's an exciting toothbrush in the picture, now.

A Gentle Walk

I took the girls on a walk when I got home from work. I had to get Bonnie a new gentle leader, and she completely hates me for it. Whenever I bring it over to her, she bows her head and gives me her Bambi eyes.

I don't fall for it. Instead I tell her that if she wasn't such a brat on walks, we could do without it.

I think my kids are going to hate me.

I think that she assumed that once she was able to chew through her last one, she would be free and clear. But, alas, I got her another one. This one is harder to chew on, though, so instead she takes her frustration out on poor Hannah. She chews on her sister's gentle leader instead. So Hannah has to walk down the sidewalk with an Aussie Shepard attached to her head collar.

It's very sad. Poor pumpkin doodle ding dong.

I took them over to a church that has a lot of grass in front of it. There is a big rock in front of the church that Bonnie likes to climb up. Hannah can get up after a few tries, but freaks out as soon as she gets on top and realizes how high it is.

I call it "THE ROCK OF GOD" (all caps)...

Hannah reminds me of AJ (even though Bonnie has his hair) when he was little. I can just hear her saying "don't-like-it-don't-like-it-don't-like-it" on top of the rock (or when the ironing board is out).

Mike had an interview today... he looked very handsome.