Weekend Highlights (This is long, if you bore easily don't bother reading it)

After living here for half a year I finally managed to make it downtown for a little barhopping. This was due to the visit of Cat and Katie. Needless to say, we had a fabulous time, topped off or perhaps due to the fact that we looked AWESOME. Seriously, we brought our A game. Hopefully Cat will send me some pictures so I can show the world our awesome hotness.

The highlights:

The Pancake Tour: I will lovingly call this the pancake tour because I gave Cathy and Katie a tour of Greenfield/Milwaukee/West Milwaukee as we were trying to find IHOP, which Sandy told me was just off Forest Home on 43rd. If "just off" means "5 miles from" then she was totally correct. Unfortunately we drove only 4 miles and did not find it. We tried every direction possible from the intersection of Forest Home and 43rd. No IHOP. By this time we were seriously contemplating eating our footwear (it was 2 pm) and all suffering from severe stomach pain brought on by the fact that our bodies had resorted to digesting our internal organs. After giving up I drove the Traditional Pancake House, which is about 4 minutes from my house, where we were served a delicious breakfast by a guy who hasn't scrubbed his fingernails since Vietnam.

Shopping: I actually found pants that fit me, too many pairs actually. This is quite rare for someone with my, um, curves. Or huge ass, whichever way you want to say it. We all managed to find some decent stuff. We almost collapsed from dehydration but at the last minute the Kate Dawg pulled through with some Arby's refreshments.

The Assemblage of The Hotness: Getting ready for a night out would not be complete without, you guessed it, peach champagne. Or maybe you didn't guess it. Really, how could you? Unfortunately this peach champagne required a tool kit to open (not lying) and almost caused Katie to become blind in one eye. Oh yeah, it tasted like crap too. In just under an hour and a half (Katie and I took 20 minutes, Cat the entire hour and a half (what else is new?)) we were ready. And damn were we ready. We all modestly decided that we looked incredibly hot and that we should be reverred as goddesses.

That's Amore: After a classy dinner at B-Dubs I had to run to That's Amore to pick up my tips from a couple nights before so I could have some cash for going out. It might not have been a good idea to go back into the kitchen to talk to Sheri as the cooks (who are all extremely perverted) have never seen me in street clothes before and were probably unprepared for my awesomeness. One asked me to "just bounce up and down a little bit" and another threatened to beat up the guy that I was with. I almost let him beat up Katie but then thought better of it. I went back down to the bar to watch the final of the 500 meter short track speedskating. Apolo Anton Ono, aka the love of Katie's life, was in the final. Oh dear. She was so excited when he won that we considered asking the bartender for a sedative. She was even excited when Canada won a different event. Who the hell cares about Canada???? I don't even think Canadians really do.

Taxi #1: We called a taxi to take us downtown. What arrived was definitely not a taxi. It was a cadillac with leather seats, no meter, a mentally handicapped driver, and a sex therapist passenger. We gamely hopped in. I'm so glad we did. We got quite the education. The entire trip (about 15 minutes) we were given sex tips. Did you know that there is a vein on the inside of a man's leg that can control his orgasm? We didn't but Gloria sure did. There was a little too much information given about the sex life of Tom (mentally handicapped driver, 43) and Gloria (bald lady passenger, 56) but it was fairly entertaining. They dropped us off at the Safehouse for only $22.

The Safehouse: The Safehouse is a spy bar downtown. You have to have a password in order to get in, otherwise you have to perform some sort of humiliating stunt. Katie knew the password, Cat and I did not. Katie did not want to share the password with us. After a near beatdown she reluctantly gave it up to spare her life and her hairdo. We walked in and, much to our delight, the Cha Cha Slide was playing. We hopped out on the dancefloor and showed the other Safehousians what was up. After having a drink and wandering around the very cool bar Katie led us out and we headed to the next bar.

Rosie's: We almost froze to death on the walk to Water St. Really. One more block and we would have been doomed. This brought our near death experience total up to 3 (hunger, dehydration, hypothermia). Eventually we made it to Rosie's, which was so packed that we immediately went from freezing to way too hot. Cat and I were both proposed to by a guy that made out with my cheek a couple times in an attempt to get me to kiss him. He was OLD. Too crowded, onto the next bar.

McGillicudy's: There was a lot more breathing room here, thank God. We found a table, sat down and in short time managed to find some interesting chaps from NYC to converse with. They were entertaining and we had a blast with them but there was really nothing remarkable enough to write down.

Taxi #2: Everybody in downtown Milwaukee streamed out onto the streets, all with the intent of hailing a cab. GREAT. It was FREEZING! As we were standing on the corner trying to flag one we noticed some arms hailing us from inside a taxi. As luck would have it the passengers were going to 108th and Forest Home and I live on 65th and Forest Home. We squished in, Cat in the front and me sitting on the somewhat cute stranger's lap. Katie passed out, SWC guy's friend passed out, Cat chatted merrily with the taciturn cab driver and SWC guy and I bonded. I was actually sad to see the ride end. I think SWC Guy and I might be soulmates. Guess I'll never know. The guys paid the $40 for the taxi ride from downtown to 108th and Forest Home. We then got ass raped out of $30 for the ride from their house to our house. ALWAYS GET THE PRICE BEFOREHAND. Although we didn't have much choice.

So that was pretty much the day in a nutshell. I really wish that Cat and Katie both lived closer. I definitely need to have fun more often. People, come visit me, I'll make sure you have fun. Milwaukee is a town full of people who know how to party.

Call Me!

Normally I am hardcore anti-phone, most of you know this very well. However, if you are in the mood for a chat between midnight and 8 am on Thursday and Friday mornings or 11 pm and 7 am on Friday night and Saturday nights CALL ME. Work is so boring that even I, Jaime Bouvette, am ready and willing to chit chat. Don't worry about disturbing me, it is 99% likely that I am not doing anything important.

Whatever Can Go Wrong....

10:45 pm: Drive to work, note the temperature (-3)
11:00 pm: Arrive at work, am informed that the turnstile and the exit arm gate is not working because of the cold.
11:30 pm: Leave to go put gas in Wackenhut truck.
11:45 pm: Return after putting $.30 worth of gas in gas tank. The nozzle was frozen. Unfortunately there is no way to note this on the receipt. Will look like a dumbass when gas bills are reviewed.
12:15 am: Fall on ice, scrape palms
2:00 am: Make sweet sweet love to the space heater, as intense physical contact is the only possible way to keep warm in the guard shack.
3:00 am: Turn on car to check temperature. (-12)
5:00 am: Attempt to resynchronize exit swing gate and arm gate. Swing gate is now stuck open.
5:30 am: After many attempts to fix the gates, which involves driving the truck in and out of the facility upwards of 50 times, call the security manager.
6:00 am: Cut open lip after whacking mouth on arm gate while attempting to crank it up after it mysteriously decided to come down after 7 hours of being stuck in the up position...while a car was driving through. No damages were sustained.
6:15 am: Find out their cell phone charger is not working. Probably my fault.
6:20 am: Drive my car outside gates. Turn off car.
6:30 am: Attempt to restart car. Car does not start.
6:31 am: Contemplate crying.
6:45 am: Car mysteriously starts.
7:00 am: Waiting for relief.
7:01 am: Waiting for relief.
7:02 am: Waiting for relief.
7:03 am: Waiting for relief.
7:04 am: Waiting for relief.
7:05 am: Relief arrives. She is instructed to drive her car through the entrance gates and drive the truck out the exit. Proceeds to drive car in entrance gates...and out exit gates. Contemplate how people can make it through life on only one brain cell.
7:10 am: Red light.
7:11 am: Red light.
7:12 am: Red light.
7:13 am: Red light.
7:14 am: Long wait at four way stop.
7:15 am: Green light!!!
7:16 am: Red light.
7:17 am: Red light.
7:20 am: HOME SWEET HOME!!!!
8:00 am: Stare at ceiling, wait for feeling to return to limbs.
8:15 am: Sweet release.

The Olympics, Some Thoughts

I'm an avid Olympics watcher. If I can't be a star athlete I might as well watch some, right? Here are some thoughts:

Snowboarding: Do the people the compete in the halfpipe have some extra chromosome that makes them completely fearless?? The simple act of trying to make it down the hill on a snowboard makes me want to wet myself, I often employ the emergency stopping mechanism, a.k.a. my ass. These people are flying seeminly hundreds of feet above the ground, just to come down and do it again but this time adding a 1080 degree rotation.

Figure Skating: Are these people made of rubber? How do they bend and stretch like that? This is one sport that I think I never would have been good at, even if I had started skating before I could walk. This makes me respect them even more (because Lord knows there are very few things I'm not good at...). Gymnastics looks hard, figure skating looks 10 times harder.

Downhill Skiing: While I realize that there are lots of downhill events in the interest of not putting my faithful readers to sleep I won't go through them individully. Actually, all I'm gonna say is DAMN I wish I could do that. Flying down the hill looks so incredibly fun and exciting. I'd kill myself, of course, but man would I look cool doing it.

Luge: There is another name for luge. It's called SLEDDING. How does one get good at this sport? And how much practice can it really take? You have to steer the luge, I know, but how hard can it be? I know I'm disrepecting all the hardworking lugers that read my blog (not too worried) but come on, if there's a 57 year old luging in the Olympics it can't be that athletic of a sport.

Speedskating: Speedskaters must have a very difficult time finding pants that fit correctly. Their thighs are HUGE. This is okay for the guys but I'm sure the girls are want to have a patch embroidered on their asses saying "It's not fat, it's muscle". I would.

Cross-Country Skiing: This is the like the chess club of the Olympic sports. The sport is intensely physically demanding and they have to work a lot harder than say, lugers, but they really can't use it as a pickup line at a bar. "So what do you do?" "I'm a cross country skiier" "Okay, but what do you do for a living" "Um, I'm a cross country skiier" "Excuse me, I think I see a skeleton team over there in the corner"

Bobsledding: A sport made popular by the John Candy classic "Cool Runnings" I compare it to driving a car down a giant laundry chute. An icy giant laundry chute. I have trouble with icy highways, icy laundry chutes are a little above my capabilities, I should think. If bobsleds had curtain airbags I would consider taking up the sport. Until then, I will leave it to the professionals.

Ski Jumping: This is another sport that looks like incredibly fun. For some reason this doesn't seem that scary to me. It's really the only way to fly without wings. Once again, I'm sure I'd kill myself long before I was meant to be killt but what a way to go.

Hockey: Everyone loves hockey. Except communists. So it follows if you don't like hockey you're a communist and should check yourself into a hospital to get a drug that will cure you of your communism.

Curling: This is probably the most made fun of sport out there but I think it looks kinda fun. Granted, very little athletic ability is actually required but that might just serve to make it extra appealing. I think I'd be one of those broomy guys though, not the thrower guy. I've never been a sharp shooter kind of person so I should probably stick to really fast sweeping.

I know there are other sports but they really don't interest me, and as this is after all my blog, I will not write about them. Feel free to fill in any holes.

This is Just For You Tom....It Never Gets Old

While I agree with Mr. Nathan Holtslander that the Brokeback Mountain jokes are completely out of control and for the most part unfunny, here's one that's virtually guaranteed to make you laugh.

What Dreams May Come....Need To Go Away

Sorry guys, this might be serious for a minute.

Is anyone else amazed at how powerful dreams are? I'm not talking dreams like "Someday I dream to be president" or "I dream of a better future for all mankind". I mean the kind of dreams that frequently find me merrily playing on a swingset naked, although I don't seem to notice until it's too late, or the kind of dreams that have me surrounded by snakes while I'm paralyzed by an fear a la Indiana Jones.
I woke up this morning and was absolutely amazed by my dreams. My dreams have the power to recall people in absolute clarity and accuracy, people that had begun to fade in my memory to the point where I could not exactly recall what they look like, what their voice sounds like, how they tilt their head when they talk. Apparently that information wasn't forgotten, just buried.
Not only did my subconcious remember details like appearance, it remembered the pain (emotional) associated with this person. Pain that hasn't been pain in years. Literally, years. And it wasn't just in my dream, I woke up this morning with my stomach clenched, a dull ache in my chest and a fairly unhappy outlook on my life. The first two are alright, but the third one rarely ever happens. So here I sit, trying to talk myself out of a spurt of depression brought on solely by long forgotten memories.
Now, if I could only start dreaming about all the crap I did when I was wasted so I could finally know exactly what people are laughing about. And where I put my damn house keys.

I Get Paid For This?

Those of you who I've talked to lately have heard me discuss how uneventful my job is. This, of course, leaves me A LOT of time for thinking. After my first shift I was struck by the realization that if someone were recording my thoughts they would think I was certifiably crazy. The next shift I decided that I would write some of them down. Keep in mind that this is a very small sampling.

7:05 a.m.: Do they call it Quaker Weight Control Oatmeal because it's so gross you can't finish it? Or that it ruins your appetite for hours to come? Because if that's true they should start marketing "Weight Control Pickled Herring" or "Weight Control Scalloped Potatoes".

8:00 a.m.: I think my least favorite phrase of all time is "void a specimen". The lady who gave me my piss test asked if I was ready to "void a specimen" and I can't get the phrase out of my head.

9:13 a.m.: What would alternative radio stations do without Blink 182, GreenDay or Nirvana? There'd be like 3 hours of dead air every day.

10:31 a.m.: How long would it take to use all of the "Invisible Tape" in the junk drawer? There are 3 rolls at 36 yards each. That's 108 yards-324 feet-3888 inches. That's a lot of tape. Also, there is absolutely nothing that we need to use tape for at any point during our daily duties. Estimate-7 1/2 years.

10:44 a.m.: Would I get fired if I dropped the truck keys down the rain grate?

12:07 p.m.: Why do I keep locking my door at work? It's inside a secured area and someone would actually have to drive past me and get checked out by me if they were going to try to steal it.

12:11 p.m.: I can't remember the last time I ate a vegetable. I like vegetables. Especially broccoli.

12:49 p.m.: A commercial claiming that "Nothing say 'I love you' like diamonds" was immediately followed by a commercial stating "nothing says love like a pair of fuzzy handcuffs" WHICH ONE IS IT?

1:39 p.m.: They should quit making teal cars. Nobody looks cool driving a teal car.

There you have it kids, some insight into my complete inane and pointless thought process. I hope none of you are dumber for the experience.