The time I was gifted two kegs.

Let's say a friend of a friend of yours is pretty well off. Really well off. Like, in a 'I run a country' well off.

And this friend comes in town over Labor Day weekend, so your friend orders a keg of his favorite beer to have in his hotel room while he is here.

Of course, he had already planned ahead and had his own means of libating (is that a word? It is now. Chelsea definition: drinking)

And so at 4pm on a Saturday afternoon you get this text:

(insert salsa dancing iPhone emoji here, because I probably did that little shuffle across my kitchen when I read the text)

Well... this was my life Labor Day weekend. I may have done the dance again when I go to pick it up and it's not one keg, but two kegs of Pacifico.

Conveniently, my mama's 21st birthday* is the last day of August. Birthing a child on Labor Day weekend? Genius. Who doesn't want 3day celebrations for the rest of their life?

We had a big cookout shebang at their place Saturday night. Of course, I pulled the best daughter EVER card and make her entire party incredibly well hydrated.

Killed one of two that night. Movin right along! Loaded up and took the other to a pool party the next day with a very firm "no one is leaving until this keg is floating". A full day of sun and beer lead to a lot of other shenanigans.

To say anyone made it past 10pm that night would be a flat.out.lie.

Dear friend of a friend, thank you very much for helping us to celebrate our labors, it was very much appreciated. 

*Yes, my mother turned 21. Again. She has turned 21 every year since her coughcough 50th birthday.
 

That Moment.

It's that moment when you glance to your left, then to your right, and then fall into a fit of giggles with your best friend, hands clenched together in a death grip, because you're crammed 4 deep in the backseat of a car speeding through the dark, winding roads of Playa del Carmen. Not sure of your final destination, even more unsure of if you'll make it to see the rising sun that dawn will bring.

They promised you a local club, full of those latin beats you were craving, salsa dancing, cheap drinks. It's that moment as you were doing your best to interpret their broken English, giddily climbing into the vehicle, where you don't ask yourself WHY, but rather WHY NOT?

Sure, every one warns you with narrowed eyes, 'whatever you do - don't leave the resort' but I've always been one to toe the line, push limits, fly by my own wings.

The truth is we had a blast that night, we danced our asses off, and we tucked ourselves into the safe and sound beds of our resort in the wee morning hours without a scratch.

That was over 6 years ago. I think I was 18. When I flip through the pages of my passport similar stories flood my mind. I don't remember the food or the pools or the room service, I remember the reckless abandon. The people. The stories.

This past trip to Jamaica was no different. The last night of our trip I jumped at the opportunity to go out to a local Jamaican night club in Negril. As I was walking off the resort grounds to meet up with my Jamaican buds I felt that nervous feeling bubbling up in my tummy. It's weird how much I trust them after only "knowing" them for 3 weeks out of the past year. But I knew they wouldn't let anything happen to me, it's funny the level of rapport that gets built over such a short time span.

I followed close behind, up 3 flights of stairs to the rooftop terrace of The Jungle.  A reggae remix of Rhianna was blarinig from the speakers, people were dancing everywhere. A smile crept across my face as we made our way to the bar, I was falling in love with Jamaica all over again.

The time flew by, and as I unlocked the door to my hotel room in the wee hours of that next morning I couldn't help but shake my head. Oh the shenanigans that little island country provides. I packed up my belongings and prepared to head to the airport in a few short hours. Another night for the memory books, another great trip.

 

Get a little mud on the tires

(Could also be titled: This is why we can't have nice things) 

I was soaking up the sun in my backyard, with a cold drink and a good book Saturday afternoon when my phone started ringing.

"Can you be ready in 20 minutes?" she asked.

"HA... no way, I just finished mowing my grass & am gross" I argued


"I'll be at your house in 25 minutes. You don't need to shower. See you soon" Then she hung up.

I roll my eyes, Brit is always up to some sort of shenanigans. I collect my stuff & wander inside to change out of my sweaty grass covered clothes and text her to see what exactly I was supposed to wear to this afternoon of debauchery that I was being kidnapped for.

Her response: shorts, tank top, your boots.

My excitement was peaked. I embrace any chance to don the cowboy boots. 45 minutes later we pulled off the country road onto this property and it became evident what I was getting myself into

A whole lotta muddin was goin on

Naturally, I was like a kid on Christmas morning and it didn't take long to go from this...

to this.

Brit & I grabbed a bucket of beer and hopped in the back of one of her friends pick-ups, and the four of us went and got stuck real good.

 before... and after. HA! (In hindsight, sitting in the bed with a cooler, beers, cornhole boards and these large metal pipes was a TERRIBLE idea. I cannot tell you how bruised up I am now)

Naturally, Boone's Farm was consumed straight from the bottle. Once that ran out we turned to Jack.

Then things got REAL interesting. The night ended in cornhole, bonfires and all around shootin the shit in the bed of a pickup truck.

Oh how I love those country nights.

First Annual Tacky Easter Bash

I'm sure the neighbors were more than a little curious when they watched us up on ladders meticulously hanging pieces of crepe paper and then "testing it out" for a good hour Friday night.

I can only imagine their thoughts when cars started filling up my front yard Saturday evening, the drivers exiting with the most ridiculous outfits (I was elated when almost EVERYONE dressed up!). My cousin, Justin, easily took the cake for the 'best dressed' of the night.

I ended up with 20 some odd people at my house Saturday night - way more than I expected, but it was a blast! A lot of beer ponging, jello shooting and bon firing went down. I couldn't have asked for better weather. Except it got a little chilly later in the night (hence why everyone ditched their festive getups for hoodies and jeans) (Please notice: everyone posing with an Easter basket full of jello shots HA!)

I took this last photo of the garage before crawling into bed that night... I think it's safe to say the first annual Tacky Easter Bash was a success. See yah next year, bunnies!

Party Stains

I hope you all had your stripes on this weekend!

I feel partially braindead today, come back tomorrow for some humor. maybe.

Halloween 2011

Halloween wore me out. I spent all day Saturday preparing for it (I was in charge of baked goods!), all night Saturday enjoying it, and all day sunday recovering from it.

I caught a horrible case of the rum flu at some point in the wee hours of Sunday morning, decided to head home around 2:30 and was all out defeated by that darn flu bug by the time I woke up Sunday morning ;)

In keeping up with my DIY costume streak, I dove headfirst into the holiday spirit and donned my very own Salvation Army bellringer costume! (Note to self: never incorporate a bell into your future costumes, it can and will be used as a signal for shots)

My parents throw a huge Halloween party every year, it's became a sort of tradition and gets a little bit rowdier every year. This year we had flippy cup, cornhole and beerpong ALL going at the same time in their garage!

Guy Fieri took a break from Diners, Drive-in's & Dive's to stop by the party.... 

  (Is that not HILARIOUS?! My mom bleached out his hair JUST for this costume hahaha)

Our friend Adam showed up in a Suggestion Box. That was a huge hit... by the end of the evening I think everyone of us had worn the box or wrote ALL over the box. 

All in all, I'd chalk it up as another successful Halloween. As if the fridge is any indication of that?