City Museum

By far my favorite part of my vacation earlier this month was the half day we spent in St Louis, mostly because of the City Museum.

My friend Krista told me about it, or I might never have known to go there. It's like no other museum I've ever heard of. We arrived around 8 Saturday night and paid our $10 for the Museum At Night and another $5 for the Roof Atop The City. It was crowded, an odd mix of families, tourists, and drunk 20-somethings.

Our first stop was the Tree Houses - huge, sprawling networks of wood and metal, pieced together for your climbing, crawling, sliding, exploring enjoyment. I got dirty. I got sweaty. I tore my shirt. At one point I got stuck because I was too short to get from A to B, so Eric had to pull my hands while some random pushed my feet till I could get myself out.

Next we hit the Skateless Skate Park, but it was packed full of kids. We did find a circular maze, narrow passages with lower and lower ceilings that eventually had me flat on my belly, GI Joe-crawling along until I reached an opening I couldn't fit through and had to go back. We stopped by the Shoelace Factory and dipped into the free sample bucket before moving on to the Wurlitzer Pipe Organ display, Art City, and finally to the giant slide that led back down to the ground floor.

Next stop: MonstroCity, an epic sculpture/jungle gym/obstacle course of scrap metal spanning the front of the museum. Now, I'd already been pushing my body to its limits in the Tree Houses. I'm in the worst shape of my life - I'm almost 20 pounds overweight and all the problems I have with my knee make things like crawling and climbing very difficult. But now I had to push my mind to its limits; I'm terrified of heights, and suddenly I can see the ground two, three stories below me through the gaps in the metal under my feet (or hands and knees sometimes). The scariest part for me was the plane - walking out on the wing of a suspended plane to get to the metal slinky leading off the tip of the wing. I didn't think I could do it, but Eric pretty much told me I had to - so I did! After that it was hard to be afraid of anything.

Soon we decided it was time to hit the roof. There are two elevators, and we found ourselves waiting with a crowd of drunk people. When we got on one elevator, they tried to tell us it was the wrong one. We ignored them because...well, because they were drunk. Then one of them got on with us - and this guy was extra-drunk - and someone else followed to insist that really, our elevator would not go all the way to the roof. We switched to the right elevator. Their inebriated amigo did not, even though they were all yelling for him. The doors were about to shut by the time he caught on. "What the fuck, you guys?!" His friends yelled at him about his language, and he demanded to know if there were children present (there weren't). "You don't know these people," one girl said, "you're gonna offend someone." "Seriously!" I said, "I'm fucking offended!"

There is a park on the roof with a pond and everything, it's lovely. I was in a hurry to get into the schoolbus that juts off one corner of the rooftop. It was full of drunk, amiable Australians. I just wanted to sit in the driver's seat, which is sticking out over an eleven-story drop, and open the door (the door is blocked by a metal grate for safety) so I did. One of the Aussie's yelled "door's open, I'm off!" I got up to leave and another said "I bet if we all jumped, we could tip this off the roof." "Oh you wait till I get off before you do!" I cried, and got "That's what she said!" in return, much to my delight.

This is the best picture I could find of my favorite part - the dome on the roof. See the gratework to the right of the photo? It extends down the dome to a little ladder from the floor. I stood at the ladder and traced the path upward and out. "Do you think you can do it?" Eric asked. I said no - and started up. And I did it. Two thirds of the way up, as it was shifting from an upward climb to a belly-crawl, I saw a couple standing below, pointing up at us like "Holy shit, look at them!" I don't know that I've ever been so proud and exhilarated.

Then a hilariously awkward thing happened when we tackled this slide. We'd already done it once, and I knew I couldn't make it all the way to the top without using the rope, so I was waiting for a clear path to make my run. Eric was already at the top, since he has freakishly long legs and didn't need the rope. I was JUST ABOUT to go when a little girl cut in front of me, entirely on accident I'm sure. Once she was up I made my ascent, with some random fratboy type standing at the top of the rope yelling "YEAH! YOU GOT THIS! COME ON! YOU GOT THIS!" like a cheerleader on steroids, or Matt Foley. I got to the top and pointed out to Eric the little girl who'd cut me off, who was just about to go down the slide. "Now's your chance for payback," he joked. "Hell yeah! You wanna be first? BE first!" and I mimed kicking her off the top of the slide. But as the words were coming out of my mouth, the fratboy cheerleader was slipping in front of me to go down the slide, and mistook my little tirade as being directed at him. "Oh I'm so sorry, here, go ahead!" I just stood there. How do you tell a complete stranger that no, you weren't talking to him, you were making a joke about kicking a little girl?

Eric had no desire to ride the rooftop ferris wheel, but I didn't want to miss it so he grudgingly went with me. It was scary and a little nauseating, but so incredible to see St Louis all lit up below us in the dark.

Finally we rode the 100-foot slide (it was so fast that near the end I used my feet to slow myself) and - exhausted, dirty, sweaty, bruised, and exhilarated, headed back to Springfield.

I can't wait to go back.

Being a great big dork is what I love most about myself.

Stuff is happening. Good stuff. Changes for the better. I dig it.

I laughed more between 8 last night and 9 this morning than most people do all week. I have the most incredible and hilarious friends. When I am overwhelmed by life's myriad frustrations, they either help me find the lighter side, or they distract me entirely. They save me from my sorrow before it can swallow me whole. And I become a better person as a result.

I am zombie-tired today. I can barely comprehend human speech. I can't wait to sleep...in 7 hours...when my day is over...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Can't boil water without burning a few angels.

My second week in the new place, and already a kitchen fire.

My tub drains slow. We poured some de-clogger down the drain. I put a pot of water on to boil.

Moments later, my roommate says "What's that sound?"

"I spilled a little water on the stovetop, it's just burning off."

"Um...are you sure?"

I go to investigate - and there's brown smoke billowing into the kitchen.

I turned on the wrong burner. Not the one with the teapot on it, but the one behind it. The one with the ceramic angel candle holder.

The house still smells AWFUL.

FailCat ahoy.

Changing my middle name.

My middle name is Mabel. After my paternal grandmother. I used to hate it, but it's kind of grown on me.

HOWEVER.

Here's a story. And like all good stories, it starts...in a bathroom!

One day, I'm brushing my teeth, and out of nowhere I get a text from Helveck, who is not just my best friend but my actual hombre, which is a type of piñata. Also, he's Canadian.

The text said -

- are you ready for this? -

- "I demand you change your middle name to Maple."

If you've ever tried to brush your teeth while laughing hysterically, you can probably picture the next five minutes. For the rest of you, I'll just say that there was toothpaste foam EVERYWHERE.

If I did it legally and officially, he'll even make me an Honourary Canadian.

So, let's weigh my options here:

Pros:
1) Honourary Canadian!!!
2) Relieving myself of the burden of being named after someone who disowned me.
3) It's kind of an adventure!
4) Maple is a variety of BACON.

Cons:
1) Costs about $175.
2) Lots of paperwork.
3) Could cause some kind of legal complication at some point down the road.

As we review, let me draw your attention to Pro #4, which pertains to bacon.

Thoughts?

I honestly don't know how I survive the hazards of daily life.

Let me begin by telling you that I'm short.

SO short, that once upon a time when I was skinny, I could by my jeans in the Juniors section, and even if I bought the Short length, they'd still drag the ground, which is how my mother ended up calling me Smurf for the REST OF MY NATURAL LIFE.

I digress. This post is not about Smurves, mothers, or jeans.

It's about a heating pad.

I needed it, to prep a patient for an IV. So I went to the lab to get it.

There it was. At the very back of the highest shelf. Miles above my smurfy head.

The shorter of the two lab girls - slightly shorter than me, even! - laced her fingers together as if to give me a boost. Not for a second did she think I'd actually try it.

Not for a second did I hesitate.

I'd like to blame it on the earliness of the hour, or the unfinished state of my first soda of the day, but let's be real here - I'm just a great pile of derp. I grabbed the counter, placed my foot on her interlaced hands, and attmpted to launch myself skyward.

I must have made some kind of progress, because as I fell back down I whacked my ass on the edge of the counter which is slightly above waist-high to me. I grabbed the shelf under my target shelf to stabilize myself, somehow managing to not strew its contents all over me, my poor assistant, and the lab. We were miraculously unharmed.

The heating pad was unsurprisingly un-grabbed.

It was not my best day ever.

Chubby girls with short legs can hike, too!

Aaron and I went hiking at Kanopolis State Park on Saturday.

Not only was it awesome, but I didn't die!

We got a MUCH later start than we planned, on account of my uncanny ability to sleep in. It was probably aaround 1 when we got up there.

First stop: Mushroom Rock. It's actually two collections of rocks on either side of the road. It was pretty cool. The bathroom was disgusting - I got my 50 in hovering.

Next stop: Faris Caves. They are small, man-made, and full of water. I was disappoint. I wanted to get my spelunk on.

On our way back to the main road, we passed a gang standoff. There were cows on one side of the road and horses on the other. They looked pissed. What I REALLY wanted was to pet a cow, but the cows were standoffish and the horses were not. So I was willing to settle for petting a horse. Then another horse came over, so I was petting TWO HORSES AT ONCE! It was very exciting, can you tell?

The REAL hike was through Horsethief Canyon. There's a little creek that runs through, and the stone walls are COVERED in carvings...now including a "Suck It Joeski" - WorkPLace represent! At one point we saw a cave on the other side of the creek...so we pushed through the brush (much of which was thorny), crossed the creek, and climbed up to the cave. It was deep enough to crawl into, but not so deep that someone standing at the mouth couldn't still see you. We had a nice bit of a sitdown there.

The latter half of the hike was crappy. Literally. Because we were on a horse trail. Aaron says I got my 50 in dodging horse poop! We did find this epic towery kind of rock jutting up from the bottom of the canyon, and I won't discuss HOW he got there, but I've got pictures of him on it.

When we got back to the car, I was amazed I was still alive. We were taking a breather when we heard - a wild Galaga! If anyone knows what kind of bird has a call that sounds JUST like Galaga, please share.

On the way home, we stopped in Lindsborg, a.k.a. The Borg, a.k.a. Little Sweden. I mention this for one reason: fake horses. I dunno what it is, but there are horse statues all over town, mostly the same shape but painted differently. Our favorite was the one outside the bank, which has horns and wears athletic shoes. We got a picture of me on it...then we saw the "Please Keep Off" warnings. Oops.

Fake babies, or - Yes, I'm THAT crazy.

It started in a bathroom.

My first night at PAX, we all headed up to our room, and discovered that even though OJ requested a smoking room, ours was not one. UNACCEPTABLE. So we grabbed our bags and headed for the door, but OJ instructed us to grab the towels since our room would be over capacity that night. So Shane and I go into the bathroom to wrangle the towels, and I didn't turn on the light, but in wrestling with the towels and my luggage I accidently shut the door, and it was dark, and we crashed into each other. When we finally escaped the bathroom, I looked at him with wide eyes and said "I think I'm pregnant."

This struck me as incredibly funny. (Maybe it was all the alcohol.) I ran with it all weekend, explaining that I wanted an epic souvenir from PAX and I figured a lovechild was the best idea ever. There is even a viddeo of me washing dishes in the hotel room to prove my domesticity so Shane would marry me. I decided to name the baby Thane, and I hope he has Shane's mad gaming skills and my ballsiness (which is a story for another post.)

Fast forward to...oh, I don't know. Earlier this week, I think. Killane sent me pictures of his sons. Inspiration hits - he produces very cute sons. I want one of these. I ask him to get me pregnant. Maranda grants permission. Success!

After some discussion, we decide the insemination will occur at PAX 2012, since I promised my coworker R that I'd have a baby in 2013. I'll name this one Kaidan John. R says with my luck, this one will be a girl.

I hope not. I'm holding out for a little Chinese girl!

Love comes in a lot of forms.

I've always been terribly dependent on others. I need constant reassurance that I am loved and valued. I can't help it, it's my nature.

Lately I have been trying to convince myself that my memories are proof that my friends love me, even if they don't always have time to show it.

What better way to help myself do that than to make a list of some of my favorite memories?

* Wearing matching shirts half a continent apart because WE know we match.

* Being someone's hombre - then deciding that an hombre is probably a type of piñata, thereby making me someone's piñata.

* Forcing someone to be an accesory to theft from a federal building.

* Comparing a vacuum cleaner to Darth Vader (for reasons you can't even imagine).

* Cheesecake with so much extra whipped cream that it overpowers the cheesecake.

* Lying on a pile of beanbags, eating homemade cookies.

* A delivery of Coke in glass bottles during a two hour wait.

* Camping out in hotel hallways.

* Holding hands and skipping.

* Fine cigars while half-watching people play pool.

* Standing in the cold and rain, swapping mom jokes.

* Alien theories.

* Ending marital discord by eating the last pancake.

* Defending a flag that doesn't exist.

* Elevator wrestling matches.

* Big dramatic hellos and goodbyes.

* Ballet lessons on the street - and criticism.

* Trying to explain a churro.

* Hitting the Mickey D's drive-thru on foot at 2 AM.

PAX peeps recap!

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PAX lines.

I'm not in a position to start recapping PAX properly, so i'm using this space for a collection of one-liners and snippets.

"Sexy Canadian sandwich!"

"Cat thinks Pope is HAWT."

"Quit talking about bacon when I'm trying to make a video!"

"Are you about to get awesome?"

"Why the fuck is there no beer on the kids menu???"

"It's called coke and rum, not fuck, you're dumb."

"Dude, I named her cat."

"Get your blowjob card punched!"

"You - get back here!"

"We gotta find Cat's shoes!"

"PENIS is my FAVORITE!"

"We're not gonna be sad."

"It's a dildo donut."

"It's long. Looong."

"Semen enema?"

"Could you press three too for us please?"

"Are you gonna go get a sweater?"

"Gang into it?"

To be continued...