The Second Coming

As anonymous as I have attempted to keep this blog it is still out there. I have a big mouth, we all know this. Some people know it exists, yet don’t know how to find it. Others do know how to find it, and may or may not look at it.

I have discovered that I can work myself in between a rock and a hard place, knowing that I have some amazing fodder to share, yet shall not – for the time being – to protect the not-so-innocent.


When I was 22 I decided that I needed to do new things in my life. Each month I set the goal to do something, something new to me, something I had never before done, a brand new experience. And I did. I saw my first opera, my first professional ball game, went to new places and saw new things. My year of “New".

I had forgotten about it until this last January my mother said that she had remembered what I had done, and realized it was never too late to do “New”. She was going to take on doing new things this year.

I love expanding my horizons, experiencing new thoughts, emotions and experiences. I like stepping out of, “that’s where I comfortably was” and traveling through into “new and unknown… and a little uncomfortable”. I challenged someone this last week with the "New" and again reminded myself to experience new things.

Although nothing too terribly new came of it, I did take a trip to Catalina Island this weekend. I went to a place that I hadn’t been previously, had a much needed change of scenery, and cocktails with great company.

Thoughts, phrases and oft said quotes this weekend:
- “Twenty!”
- “Sack up Charlie or I’ll punch you in the ovaries!”
- “I think I remember… Orange!”
- Text- "OH. MY. GOD. call me when you have time (flashback)"
- “OCG, I am mailing a toolbox and some work boots down to you now.”
“Ummm, did you say box? HaHa”
- I swear, OCG you should just wear a T-shirt that say:
“Warning this conversation will be blogged!”


I was shared a great weekend story, and although I wasn’t there (dear lord how I wish I would have been) I have been given permission to blog it.

JP went to the Ducks football game last weekend. Whenever she tells me she got wasted, I am always taken a little a back. I could probably count on both hands the number of times in the last eight years when she has been out of control drunk. (I could probably utilize all my 20 digits per month for me).

She went down to Eugene with one of our girlfriends, MB, and due to the rain they decided they should spend pre-game fun sitting in a bar. Many drinks were consumed, many more were had at the game and by the time the end of the forth quarter – there was JP completely intoxicated in the car with MB, stuck for over an hour attempting to exit the Duck parking lot.

Deciding that her bladder o’ beer could no longer be held, JP turned to MB and asked, “What did you do with the plastic bags from shopping earlier? I have got to pee.”

MB, completely shocked, looked at her in disbelief, “You have got to be kidding me. You are not peeing in a plastic bag.”

“Watch me.”

And with that JP crawled into the back, squatted down behind the passenger seat and began peeing in her plastic bag. She asked MB if she could find a napkin or anything to wipe with, and MB began looking through the glove box.

The next thing JP heard was, “Oh my God, I just hit someone.” In trying to look through the car MB had tapped the rear bumper of the car in front of her, and the Nutty Professor-esque black man was rapidly approaching their car, arms flailing through the air and yelling.

“Holy Shit!” JP pulled up her pants, still peeing, and promptly sat in the seat, bag o’ pee at her feet. The police arrived shortly thereafter while this gentleman continued to yell, throw his arm in the air and create a scene while other cars slowed down to laugh at this comedic performance.

The police finally left, JP still in the back seating in and amongst her urine, and they slowly took off again. The other driver did stop one more time to run back and yell at them for again driving too close to the rear of his car.

What does any good party girl do? Go straight home? Take off her pants, maybe buying a new pairs? NO! Wrapping her sweatshirt around her wet bottom she goes to get more cocktails at two different places.

That’s my girl.

Hope she remembered to throw away the bag.