I apologize for this interruption in what should be debauchery.

Dear Navy...


...Provider of Paycheck, BAH (housing fund), Uniform Inspections, and the Undying Need for a Heavy Liquor Stash,


Thanks (sincerely this time) for the advance warning in Mr. Wookie's schedule (say it Britishly...."shed-ual").  Good thing we've been slacking in the must-purchase-tickets-for-the-Pacific-Northwest movement [we've got a wedding to attend, then there's that "birth of our Lord" celebration that'll be spent with family this year as opposed to shoddy webcam images (yes!)], because we'd be S.O.L. for half of that travel.


Now, Mr. Wookie will be heading for Oregon from an entirely different location.  He found out shortly ago.  And will commence in a slightly longer duration (love that OpSec for obscurity).  And our forces will reunite like the Captain Planet team, minus the gawdy rings and spandexy uniforms.  And no camel toe.  So for now this leaves me traveling on my own for the first half.


And the questions remains.  Do I dare imbibe on the flight for fear of turning all loosy, goosy and wanting to curl up next to the person in the seat beside me because I'm reverting to the one time I got drunk entertained on a flight????  As much as I'm always in search of a trust fund, I'm not sure flying coach will land that big ticket.  Something just screams "Cheeeaaaap" about not even upgrading to Business.  Obviously, since I'm there.  It is cheap.  Minus my willing to fork over $8 for a paltry beer at the bar across from my gate.  But enough of judging myself.


The good thing.  At least there'll be an In 'N Out near him.  So at least civilization is respectable.  We're just not sure if the locals maintain a full set of teeth to chew said In 'N Out.


So here's to releasing the reigns and letting Mr. Wookie handle the new logistics for this holiday season.  I just get to sit here and bite my nails hoping ticket prices don't soar like Robert Downey, Jr. in the 90's.  Shit.  I don't have any nails.  I've bit them off long ago when we first drove across country.  Then when we got here.  Then when I started job hunting.  Then when Christmas plans were first materializing.


Maybe I should put that on my list.  You know, that nail polish that tastes like ass and is supposed to deter you from chewing off half your fingers.  Well, maybe they make one that tastes like tequila.  Because that'd do the same.  Well, until I starting dipping my fingers in lime juice.  I might just end up with nubs anyways.

The tailgating and friendships keep us coming back to Oregon State football.

Each time I think our team is mounting a comeback...they play worse than Hedrick's 7th grade JV team (my junior high, people).  This past Saturday was no exception.  I hoped our team would show up just a little.  They didn't.  Instead, they mounted a giant GOOSE EGG in the score.  On our end.  Just like a wallowing team should.

But enough of that bull..., let's focus on that one victory we mounted against USC.  Sorry Trojan fans, it was all Orange and Black in Corvallis that weekend.  With great weather.  So thankfully that shitty weather passed and we had clear skies for game day.

And this post is a doozy, because visits back to Beaver Nation warrant such picture-age.  That and I like to show off that at least the tailgating is good times.

So let's get started....

The night prior mounted the creation of jello shots.  But, like any mad scientists...there had to be quality control in the substance.  And I've documented before the skills of Dr. Stacey Kervorkian's process.  So this is just additional boasting on her part.  If you have to tailgate, she is for hire.  I'm her publicist.  You can reach me via this blog.

And fast forward less than 24 hours later, and with 8 of those being in the fridge setting so the jello shots are amply ready and delicious...we make our way to the tailgating spot.  Complete with 3 fresh Honey Buckets, 5 minute walk to the Bookstore for more Beaver Gear, and more hot dogs than Costco can sell on a Sunday.  Okay, maybe not the hot dog count part.  Because they do some hefty business.

I give thumbs up for the jello shots.  Baby Sister gives face.

And every blogger needs a picture with wild, tousled 1980's music video hair.  All I'm missing is the White Snake soundtrack, pleather pants, and a muscle car to hump.  And the long-time friend of Dr. Stacey Kervorkian doesn't hurt either.

This here is what the tailgate looks pre-party.  We've upgraded to the double cover.  We now have a giant space heater that'll melt your boots if you're too close.  Or Mr. Wookie's hand hair (he didn't believe it got that hot.  And yes, this is the same man the government trusts with pricey aircraft.).

Several microbrews keep the over-100 jello shots stable.  I think the final tally was 112.  But I could be wrong.  All I do know is there was ample quality control that morning before we got to to the tailgating location...so that may have effected the total count.

Man Date

These boys haven't seen each other since here.  So of course this weekend called for staying up until 4am, not eating meals with the girls because they were gaming, and showering together reliving dorm life by slinging insults at each other from across the desk.

The Sheriff here is working on logistics for hot dogs.  Who wants one?  Who wants two?  Who's hungry yet? Who's not able to call the ball....

Of course the Sheriff had to take out of his busy schedule for a business call.

But then nature called...and we wanted to use porcelain.  And the building behind the Sheriff's call just so happened to be "open."

And like any good rule followers, we made sure we had a student escort.  Who cares that it was a Master's student.  And that's she studying in a different department.  In a different building.  Across campus.  And that it doesn't involved forestry, but nutritional components (if you ever want to hear snorts of excitement, just talk proteins and nutrients...she'll die).

The 3 best friends that anyone could have.  The lady Wolf Pack.

And it's time to clear up shop as it's close to game time and we need to start walking the 5 minutes from our spot to the stadium.

And for the record:  All jello shots were consumed.

Two stories here:  Baby Sister has this "thing" where she'll "Beaver teeth" in her photos because it's funny.  So please laugh at her here.  She's also jazzed because Mr. Wookie will be giving a lesson.  Shotgunning A Beer 101.

Professor Wookie ready for lecture.

And for the record, we only had the can Coors Light for this introductory lesson.  Otherwise it's high-class microbrews for this fanship.  We don't bite the Silver Bullet.

In the words of Borat, "Thumbs up, very nice!"

Final jello shots for the Sheriff.

And now the Sheriff's trying to look maniacal, like the missing love child between the Incredible Hulk and a 1920's British sailor.

So we start walking...and taking super-high quality photos...

Because after many rounds of jello shots and microbrews, I'm Annie Liebowitz.  Minus I'm not really a lesbian, and I would have not photo'd Miley Cyrus.  I would have paid for voice lessons instead.  And a better weave.  She's like a mini Kim Zolciak!

Even blurry, he's really cute.  And funny story: The night before, while meeting up for dinner, we had to take 2 cars to get to our destination (and Mr. Wookie went in the "boys' car."  I didn't know they were directly behind us when parking.  So I get out of the "girls' car," look back, and see this cute guy getting out of a different car.  Oh, he's cute.  Yes.  It was Mr. Wookie.  I realized this a micro-second later.  And no, I hadn't had a beverage yet.  I'm just that blonde.)

And the obligatory "thumbs down" to anything USC-related.

And I got chapstick'd again.  Because, again, my lips hurt real bad.

Lackluster band.

"Big budget" fireworks for victory.

So after the game, we go out to dinner at one of the many fine dining establishments that serve local microbrews.  And then we see the World's Tallest Man.  Okay, but not really.  But my neck hurt just from staring.  So thankfully we captured the incognito photo while his back was turned.  That's over 7' of former-Oregon State basketball player.  Now the Sheriff knows how it feels to be small.

And what would any ride home be without backseat pictures!

With Mama Ging in on the action!

And the Sheriff trying to join the fun!

Then Monday morning came and we had to say goodbye to the wonderfully weathered Pacific Northwest.  Why can't E-2 Hawkeyes be out of Washington State?  We'd really appreciate that, Navy.  We miss all this.

But stay tuned for the cherry-on-top photographic evidence of the Power Rangers' effects on our adulthood.  You won't be disappointed.  At least, I don't think you will.  Standby for further humoring via alcohol.

Squashing my dreams, one pair of Birkenstocks at a time.

Remember those orange shoes I taunted my readers with?  Wait, you mean you don't?  Okay, well go back to that post, now, to refresh your mind, then come back to me.

It's okay, I'll wait.

[Cue jeopardy music]

Finally, the "holiday" in the way of Christmas has passed.

So I'll apologize for the lacking in blog action.  I've been lazy, slacking, and not really motivated to indulge in our lives right now.  Minus our trip to Oregon.  Because that rocked.  And there's still lots more to come.  So don't worry.  Just a slight glitch in your regular blog programming.

But just to inform the blogosphere, we did in fact "celebrate" the Giving of Thanks despite my lingering beliefs that we eff'd the Natives over with Small Pox blankets and other delightful anti-Martha Stewart welcoming wagons.  But whatevs.  I'll get over it.  Because I'm an American, and that's what we do. :)  (I feel the need to play "America, F*** Yeah!)

Yesterday was spent on the couch, watching football (as everyone should) and maybe a few hours of a Clean House marathon.  The only thing I didn't do was put on make-up (lazy).  But at least I showered and got dressed.  Sometimes I don't even do that!

For weeks prior to yesterday, I tried my hardest to convince Mr. Wookie that we should do anything but turkey.  Cornish game hens, pheasant, steak, lobster.  But that was met with, "No."  So turkey it is (I get so bored with turkey.  I grew up in a family where the same turkey dinner is had for every holiday.  I'm burnt out.).

So like any gourmet chef, Mr. Wookie took full reign of the kitchen.  It's so nice to have a boy who can cook such big meals.  He successfully coordinated last year's feast, which included such great additions of these people.  My job was ensuring the kitchen was clean to start with, and that leftovers were fridge'd after the fact.  Easy enough.  And it didn't even require a constant beverage in my hand.

The best I was able to do with turkey negotiations was to have a small bird.   Again, I grew up in a family where the biggest bird was purchased, cooked, and created enough leftovers to feed a Lithuanian village for a month.  I get very burned out on repeat leftovers.  So a small bird we found.  Well, small by 10 lbs.  So hopefully leftovers are over and done with in less than a week.  Because I can't think of any other leftovers other than soup, enchiladas, casserole, turkey salad, and sandwiches.  Because then I'm tryptophan'd out.

Take one small turkey, one Black Butte porter, some maple syrup, and rosemary and thyme.  Throw in the oven to make the place smell awesome.  Indulge in a Black Butte porter during cooking.  Stuff cavity with cornbread stuffing.  Feel the need to taste test everything because I was staving off hunger pains.

We even opened the real champagne we've been holding onto for a few years.  We hosted a fondue party back in college and it was our Thank You present.  And I got a tutorial in Opening Bubbly 101 (because when's the last time a girl actually opened a bottle...it's totally a boy's job).

So once ready, we had a full table of food...for just 2 people.  Beer bread, cornbread stuffing, turkey, mashed potatoes, mac 'n cheese (how Southern!), green beans...with bacon (der!), and cranberry sauce.  And no placemats (I'm still looking for what I want).  But it was tasty!  (Thanks to him!)

Champagne review:  Eh, just okay.  Not worth the price tag.  I'll take Korbel any day.

And so now we're enjoying Black Friday from the comfort of our living room.  Mr. Wookie is playing videogames via his laptop while we watch reruns of Deadliest Catch.  And I"m also working on my Christmas list, because Mama Ging requires it.  I'm just a little behind (it was due yesterday, woops!).  But oh well, better late than never.