29 April 2008

Margaritaville is Dirty

I’m waiting on a custom printed t-shirt that reads, “(front) I survived the Jimmy Buffett experience and all I got was some stranger's puke on my shoe and a tummy ache. (back) Plus I had to make my own T-Shirt.”

Jimmy Buffett is a talented performer. Yeah, yeah, yeah; everyone knows that and either you love him, hate him, or know a few popular songs. Those are the only options because everyone has heard of this guy.

I was BLOWN AWAY by one of his guest performers: Jake Shimabukuro. He’s a Hawaiian Ukulele Legend and he ROCKED George Harrison’s While My Guitar Gently Weeps. Actually, while you’re reading my blog, why don’t you play the video below? It’s a live acoustic version. You don’t have to watch, but you can at least listen. Come on, peer pressure, everyone’s doing it. Click play. Watch it. Listen. If your ears start bleeding go ahead and pause it, you big baby.

The music was great. The show was fun.

But the highlight of the evening was the location itself: Margaritaville. Wait, we’re in Riverport, no it’s called UMB Bank Pavillion, wait, wait, wait; what IS that place called these days?

Well, whoever owns that place, the actual owners need to attend an event to really appreciate their lackluster facilities.

For one, the place was trashed.

No seriously, there were giant piles of trash near the entrance...yeah, that's right, on our way IN. This was before the show even started.

The Entrance to Margaritaville

Um, who’s in charge of trash management? Fire that asshole!

The bathrooms at Riverport rank second only to the worst toilet in Scotland. They were disgusting. Everything, and I mean Ev.Er.Y.Thi.ng. was wet. I’m not sure, why or how, but the whole place was sopping wet.

Hold on, let me pose a theory:

While in the stall minding - and doing - my own business, the girl next to me was sitting on the toilet and puking on the floor, which I only noticed because her puke was splashing into my stall. So maybe everything was wet because they have to send cleaning people in to periodically hose the place down?


The lines to the bathrooms were long, but they moved kind of fast. I’d say it took 2-3 songs to get through the line. Not too bad considering the drink line was nearly 5 songs long. Luckily the concert went on for about two and a half hours or I would’ve missed more than half the show. (Ticket prices are VERY INFLATED. The least they can do is help us get our beer fast so we don't miss so much.)

Then, get this; they refused to sell my aunt a beer because she didn't have her ID. And that scenario is messed up because I think she's 51, which looks a lot different than 21.

But hey, rulez is rulez; No ID; No beer.

In lieu of beer, I chose to drink a $16 tummy ache disguised as a yummy Margarita:


This Rock'n'Rita was taller than my head (which is shaped like a banana by the way) and by volume, this drink was made of approximately 81.5% sugar, 5.2% water, 12.6% chemicals (you know, the cancerous ones found in everything we eat and drink) and a mere 0.7% alcohol.

That’s right, the margaritas at Riverport suck; even when Jimmy Buffett brings Margaritaville to town.

Listening to: Jake Shimabukuro and Chris Burgan - Crosscurrent

23 April 2008

And there’s like, school and work, and stuff

Yeah, so, besides yoga I’m going to school and working to rewrite a website. Oh, and I had to update this post because I totally forgot to at least mention an upcoming major home renovation that has required quite a bit of planning and research time (and we're nowhere near finished). I barely have time to shit, shave and shower, let alone blog. Geez.

Making faces

And tomorrow I’m going to see Jimmy Buffett!

(I’ve also been WAY INTO the new Man Man album.)

Listening to: a bunch of NIL8 (always; typical)

18 April 2008


Woo Hoo! My first earthquake! I’ve always wanted to be in a minor earthquake, just to see what it feels like, and my dream finally came true.

I was fast asleep, because it was something like 4:30 in the morning, when I awoke to the bed shaking and the windows, pictures and mirrors on the bedroom walls rattling. It's impossible to know exactly how long the sensations lasted because I was sleeping when it began. I sat up in bed and exclaimed, “What IS that!?!?” James promptly replied, “It was Marshall.”

For those of you who don’t know who Marshall is, he’s our cat.


Granted, Marshall’s done some crazy things (one of which ended up with a dislocated toe and a $117 vet bill), but I knew this wasn’t his fault. The whole house was shaking.

James challenged my “No way!” with “Way!” and “Shyeah, right! You explain it!?”

Though I knew it was not Marhshall's fault, I had no clue it was an earthquake, primarily because it was 4:30 and I was in a sleepy-stupor, totally confused about the situation. I was pleasantly surprised to learn we had a 5.2 magnitude earthquake that was centered near West Salem, IL. Per Google maps it’s roughly 147 miles from our house to the earthquake epicenter.

Fast forward to around 10:15 am today. We had an aftershock and from what I hear, it was a magnitude 4.5.

It didn’t last too terribly long, though I have no idea how many seconds. At first just a few knick-knacks were rattling around, and then one fish in particular really began rocking back and forth. Immediately my dog came running into the office and hid under my desk, then the house really started shaking. As I sat there looking up at the ceiling fan above my head, I wondered when I should get up and run for cover.

Then it all ended.

Immediately my husband called to discuss the safest earthquake zones in our brick home, circa 1920. Awesome, this place was MADE for earthquakes (not)!

Did you feel something? ...Be a part of the USGS quake statistics by completing a quick survey.

16 April 2008

Yoga is the new Blog

It seems that my spare time habits have changed; instead of blogging, I'm going to yoga. Specifically, Bikram yoga.

My goal is to go a minimum of four days per week, with no longer than a three day stretch in between classes. That seems attainable, I mean, it's only four days a week. But at 90 minutes a class the time adds up fast, especially when you add in travel time to and from, getting there early to get a decent spot and warm up, showering and laundry afterward - not to mention it's a 90 minute workout in a room heated to 105 - that tends to leave one feeling somewhat done for the day.

However, that's all starting to change. My last five classes have left me feeling quite energized afterward and considering those last five classes were within seven days, I'd say that's pretty good. Only a month ago that kind of schedule was killing me.

In addition to increased energy, I've noticed other changes.

I don't feel stressed out, I easily fall asleep at night and I feel better about myself. My posture is much improved; in fact, I lost my title as The Hunchback of East Carondelet. I'm getting stronger, carrying heavy things with ease and without getting winded. I'm much more flexible. I can run faster and farther, feeling more gazelle-like and less fat-ass-like. Though I haven't lost any weight to speak of, my clothes are definitely fitting looser. My ass looks better and I actually have muscle definition in places like my arms, legs and stomach. I've noticed changes in my appetite, too. I get full faster and then feel hungry sooner; my body is naturally forcing me to eat three small meals and a couple of snacks a day.

Besides all of this, my yoga skills are improving, too. I'm most proud of the fact that in the last few classes I've been rocking out my trikanasana. It wasn't until my fourteenth class that I could successfully hold the pose without either my weak legs giving out or my left hip popping, immediately followed by a really weird sensation in my hip, thigh and butt cheek, causing me to fall out of the pose. Sure, I have lots of room for improvement but considering the laundry list of progress I've noticed in only 18 classes, I'd say my yoga habit is off to a strong start.

Listening to: NIL8 - Switch Drops

09 April 2008

Artsy Fartsy

My good friend Jeff of Nil8 has a painting on display at the Soulard Art Market & Contemporary Art Gallery. I've been lucky enough to have a sneak preview and like Jeff's other artwork, this is an active painting, full of color and life; it does not disappoint!

Show your support by visiting the exhibit, I See Music, featuring a variety of artists in an assortment of mediums. The show runs through May 11 with the formal reception this Friday, April 11th, 7-10 pm. Admission is free and appropriately, will feature live music.

Listening to: Nil8 - The Medicine Man

I've spent lots and lots of time listening to this guy sing

06 April 2008

Weekend Recap, in the form of a quickie

James went to Colorado for a few days and I partied like a rockstar. Well, mostly I ate pizza for every meal and stayed up way past my bedtime.

Late night shenanigans

Of course, I took a few too many pictures so it's going to take me days to sort through them. For now, this one might be my favorite. Terra and I were walking from one place to another on Delmar when we passed a construction wall, blocking our view of whatever was going on back there. I spotted this opening and yep, they're building stuff on the other side of that pressed wood eyesore wall.

02 April 2008

Does this photo turn you on?

Jnet 5.21.05

My photos are lucky to have a few views, so something's up when I log on and see the above picture viewed 180 times yesterday. The link, not the photo, is in a big long list of links for, um, I guess hot geeks in glasses?

Listening to: the Cardinals game (DVR)

01 April 2008

Typical, April Fool! She’s a she, not a he, Dude.

Tonight a friend of ours was over and, like a gazillion people before, he (over and over again) called Nico – who’s a her - a he.

And again, dude, she’s a she, not a he.

I think it was a mindless, innocent statement, impulsively made during a brief moment where he caught Nico off guard and was able to give her a loving pat on the head while he muttered, ‘How ya doin, boy.”

Nico inner monologue:
BOY!? I’m fuzzy, blonde and cute.
Do I look. like. a. boy.?

Seriously, dude, she’s all feminine and shit.
Stop calling her a he, him or boy.

Except you.
You can call her a he or him sometimes and I won’t take offense.
You have a good excuse.

Nico...Still Enjoying the Ride

Good question, Rebecca; Nico is a Wheaten Terrier mix.

Listening to: Something weird - courtesy of James


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