In Canada

My favourite memory from one Canada trip with Belle. It's simple. It's sweet. We laughed for hours.

Walking back to our hotel, Belle points out a large sign in front of us: LIQUOR AND SPIRITS 40% OFF
She screams frantically, "SALE ON BOOZE! RUN!!" We started running as fast as we could toward this sophisticated little booze shop. We got Mike's Hard, Absynthe, 42 Below Vodka, and a baby bottle of Crown Royal. Just because we could.

When there is a sale, you run. Not walk.

New Native Name

I went out to the lake last summer with a friend-we'll call her May. We were all alone until three native American boys came to our little cliff spot to the right of the main beach.

"Hey girls." One of the three said. We respond back with a wave. "So, are you two together like together or just here hanging out as friends."
We were so dumbfounded by the questioning of our orientation we burst out laughing, "Just friends guys. Calm down." We were keeping to ourselves when the tall skinny one started talkin to me. Just random questions, wanting our names, where we live, just random curiosities any stranger would ask as they were sharing a water spot. We found out they of the Nez Perce people. The chubby guy about my height started running and jumped off the highest cliff, landing with a big splash. The younger boy ran off and did the same.
The skinny one, still trying to strike up conversation asks, "why don't you jump off?"
Ha. Me? Heights? You're joking.
I laugh and shake my head no.
"You?" He asks May.
She just shakes her head, trying to avoid conversation.
"C'mon, it's fun, watch I'll do it." I follow the guy up the land and around to the grassy cliff. I go to the edge and look down. In reality, it's only about a nine or ten foot jump. In my mind, it goes on forever and I'd have a ton of uncomfortable air time.
He jumps off, surfaces, and gives me a smile.
"Do it, don't be a pansy." Says the chubby one.
"Dude I'm such a pansy! I can't do heights." I say.
"De-pansify yourself!" The skinny one in the water calls up.
He comes out of the water, runs to my side and grabs my hand. "We'll jump together, okay?"
I shoot May a look. She just smiles, shrugs, and rolls her eyes. The chubby is conversating with her further telling her she should.
I look down again. " On three okay?" He says. I walk away. It scared me.
"Oh c'mon!" He follows after.
At that moment, I grab my balls, turn around, and run as fast as I can off the cliff. The boys in a frenzy, cheering. I surface and smile. Chubbs calls out to me, "Hey, your native name is now Big Balls. Prove yourself worthy by jumping again, and I shall give you a new native name."
I didn't even care about the name- it was so wonderful to just jump! Finally just let go. I ran up to the cliff again, doing the same routine, and just jumping instead of waiting.
I surface and Chubbs calls out to me.
"I have your new native name. It shall be Bigger Balls." All the boys laugh, May too. "Bigger Balls!" "Bigger Balls!"

That's how I got my native name from the Nez Perce peoples.

Reason 1 Why the south is King

I'm just a little lady from Mississippi- somewhere RIGHT next to the Gulf. Moved to Montana, went on a Christmas roadtrip with family to see Mema. Mema is King.

We drove for days and days. Finally getting out of that van, stretching my legs, feeling the great moisture of the humidity on my skin, I felt I was home. I walked into a gas station and here's where the fun began.

Let's compare. In the north, you walk into a gas station, no one talks, you get your shit, you go. If there's someone about to come through the door as you leave, usually you be the nice one and let them through first, without a peep, then go on out minding your own business like nothing ever happened and you were never there.

In the south, let me give you just ONE incident.... I get an icecream bar- friggin hot there, even in 'winter time'. Walk up to the front counter, big 'ol black woman makes instant conversation. "Oh how you doin' baby?"
"Just fine thank you, and yourself?"
"Oh I tell you what, it's hotter than hell out there, mmhmm. That icecream bar looks reals good. Imma have to get me one-a-them when I get off workm mmhmm- oh my word child, where'd you get your nails done?"
I look down at my florescent orange nails.
"Did them myself."
"Shoot girl, those look wonderful! I tell you what, you ever need your nails done, I have a cousin that does wonderful..." before I knew it, I was explaining why I couldn't get my 'nails did' by her cousin because I was on a family trip and I was explaining my life story. So was she- from Oklahoma. All of this happened within a matter of three minutes tops. We do it quick and right in the south.
" Well baby, you have yourself a good'n you hear?"
"Yes ma'am."
I'm exiting the store when I see two guys on the other side of the glass. Both look about my age if not only a couple years older, one wearing a Carhart, the other some plaid and coveralls, both in cowboy boots and hats.
You see, in Montana-Wyoming- they're a pack and anything in their way is disposable. You move or get moved.
In the south, here's how things get handled by REAL men...
We step to the door about the same time, the boy in the Carhart opens the door our his way, and BOTH boys step to the side, clearing a way for me.
"Thank you boys."
"Yes ma'am." They both say.
LADIES IN TEENS OR TWENTIES- WHEN HAS ANYONE YOUR AGE EVER SAID "YES MA'AM" TO YOU? When you're in the south. Boys don't have any manners in the north for women. Men in the south do. Mmhmm. I think I might have blushed a little and smiled. They waited until I was funny exited before entering.
"Hey boys!" I heard the cashier say, greeting them in.

Boys in the north- take it from the Men in the south. Use your manners, win over ladies. This whole "Imma hump everything with a vagina" thing is only in music and boys in the south that get no action but disease infested action. Be a man. Not a boy. Man. Boy. Man. Boy. Learn the difference.

720

I've always had this thing with the number 720. It's been everywhere. Time. Answers to math tests. Even on detergent boxes. I've grown to love this number. It means absolutely nothing. It's a collaboration of symbols we made up.  But I find significance in them. It's a lovely number. That's all.

Yellow Hummer

This past December, I took a roadtrip with my family to the south. That was a mistake.

On the way there, we met up with some friends in Denver. The kids were about half my age. They played this game called "Yellow Car". How you played was every time you saw a yellow car, you'd call out YELLOW CAR and smack the person next to you. It was rather annoying, but you had to join to be the smacker and not the smackee otherwise it became really annoying.
I usually wasn't paying attention, hence I knew this. All the time YELLOW CAR! Smack! You could add up points every car. Then there were yellow hummers- the god of all yellow cars apparently. You get three points for each of those. Us older chaps- me and my brothers- decided to bullshit our own spin on the game. Calling out random yellow cars and hummers just to add up points. Then started the surprises.
The car would get quiet then all of a sudden "Woah did you see that?" One of the younger ones would bite. "What? Where??" One of my brothers would usually do the trick. "It was a pack of yellow hummers! Over there!" They'd look all over and never find anything of coarse.
On our way back to the north, we stopped at an Olive Garden. On our way out, this was my time. My time to prank the ones that have done it so much they didn't think they were capable of being got!
The Olive Garden was right next to the freeway. We were walking to the car, me, my brothers, mum, and my older brother's gal at the time.
"OH MY GOD! LOOK AT THAT!" I screeched.
"What?! What!?" They were frantic as if a crash happened, seeing as how I was pointing to the freeway in the evening sky.
" A WHOLE FLOCK OF YELLOW HUMMERS!" I smiled really big.
It took them just a couple of seconds before everyone burst out laughing.
"That was pretty good."Said my older brother. Never thought I'd hear that coming from him. It was glorious. I had pulled the biggest yellow hummer prank.

Ohhh caaanadaaa! PT 2

Where were we... ah yes. Just got back to the hotel, ready for a full night's rest...Well. As good of one as we can get- we knew we'd be walking that day. As poor kids, we'd be walking everywhere- including seven miles to our first destination at the Calgary Zoo.

We got up, and set out for some lunch. I loved that town. Love that town. so busy, everyone out and about, so festive. I miss it. Anywho, we find a nice place. "Dude we're eighteen, let's get drinks." Belle smiled at me.
I'd never had a drink before. I wasn't like everyone else in high school. Didn't really have the want or need for it. Aside from the fact I never had access to it but that didn't bother me one bit. I just looked at her with an unsure look. "Okay. Okay, yeah. Sounds like an adventure."
We walked in and clearly didn't fit the move of the place- bright dresses, all prettied up for the big town, full of adventure. Everyone else, mostly men mind you, were dressed like.... well, like anyone in the city would be i suppose. Blending in with their grays and blues and dark coloured clothing. We took a high top next to a window. It was beautiful and sunny that day. Our waitress came over, smiling at us. "Hello ladies can i get you anything to drink while you're looking at the menu?"
"Long island iced tea for me." Belle says. She looks at me.
"I have no idea." I giggle.
"Do you have anything fruity?" Belle asks.
The waitress thinks. "Not really, this is more of a guys bar." She smiles. As if we hadn't looked around.
"I know what to get you." She smiles again and walks off.
We exchange looks, shrug, and start looking at the menu again. I don't even remember what I ordered that day. I just remember the drink. The drink that started a wonderful craving for a wonderful taste.
She brought out our drinks, Belle sipping her's immediately in delight.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Vodka, 7up, and raspberry flavouring."
I took a sip. Wonderful. Not everyone can remember their first drink. Not everyone cared. I'll never forget the sweet, cold sensation with the aftertaste of something musky. Mmm.
We left there and went to the liquor store.
After that we set off for the zoo. We walked to that zoo wide-eyed. The city life so wonderful. When we got to the zoo we were there four hours and didn't even get to see everything it was so big. Our legs hurt on the way back. We stopped at a second hand store and got sweet vintage clothing. Then stopped at a swimsuit shop to get some board shorts to go swimming at our pool. 
We swam around for a little while. A long while. The water felt marvelous on our tired legs.
"I wanted to go to the bar tonight. There's one attached to the hotel." She said.
"Okay, I'm game." We walked out a little while before that happened. Across the street there was another bar we walked by that day. "I hope she knows she doesn't match." A woman said from what we now call The Insult Box. It was a bar that had windows you could sit at to view the street.
Belle laughed at her, looking at my red plaid shirt, orange pants, and purple shoes that day.
"Man, eff that ho!"
We were getting hungry, so we finally decided to hop in the camero and go eat at a Hooters. I'd never been to one of those either.  We ate, drank merrily, and tipped the waitress in loonies and toonies in a picture. I had to drive us home hehe.
We sat at the room for only a short while and headed down to the bar.  A quiet little place. "Want to go to the insult box?" Belle asked. We walked across the street and sat exactly where the lady sat before. We decided to make it our compliment box and yell compliments to people outside the window to counteract the insults earlier. Also random comments like " THE HYPOTENUSE WOULD HAVE BEEN SHORTER!" Good times.
Whilst commenting people, three boys walked by. They chatted, then walked in and sat with us at our compliment box. Ivan was the tallest of the three and sat next to me. A bald german. He shaved it all off he told us. He was our age. The other was a picture ruiner we found out later, and the other some skinny brunette boy that spilled his beer on me. He was the first to leave. The bartender came over to us and handed me an Belle a couple of shots. "This is for being the craziest Americans I've ever seen!"
We left the bar with the two remaining guys that night. Roamed the town, and ended up at another bar. It was about three in the morning by the time we got there- the doors closed after we walked in. It was a wild night at this bar. They were open hours later than they should have been and we even met some guy who called himself by the name of Skittles and two German models that asked for a threesome.
Lots of wild things went on that night but I don't feel the liberty to share them all via internet and only word of mouth.

What happens in Canada should stay in Canada.

Ohh Caaanadaa!!

This is probably my most absolute favourite story to tell. It's a long one, but believe you me, it's so worth it. Might even be two Blogs worth of writing. Before you read this, know that.... we'll call her Belle- is my best friend ever. EVER. This story is true and none is fabricated.

"Dude, what are you doing at the end of August?" Belle calls me up and asks immediately on a June afternoon.
"Nothing I guess. I don't plan that far ahead." I said. We had just graduated from high school and nothing else was on my mine but to get to college. Finally. I had planned a last trip with all of my bros from high school to go to my home lands of Mississippi, but those plans had fallen through. "Good! You're going with me to Canada to see Blink-182!"
Nice. Last time I was in Canada, I was with my family going to the waterslides. This should be rather interesting. "Okay!" I said.
"Good! I was hoping you'd say that! I ALREADY BOUGHT THE TICKETS!"
*FASTFORWARD*
She drives up in her pretty little maroon Camero. I hop in, and on our way we go. A seven hour drive. Getting to Canada was easy, seeing as how we lived only 40 miles away.  The roadtrip was great, just what I needed. Some bumpin bass for hours on end to go see some band I've never really listened to. *Shhh don't tell her* Then there it was. The most epic thing on the face of this planet- a ginger llama. She flipped a bitch in the middle of God knows where and pulled over on the side of the road. We went over to talk to it and pet it. Didn't seem to like me but liked the grass Belle was feeding it. We loved that damn llama and all its retardedness. It's effed up feet to its HUGE underbite that made it look really REALLY retarded with it's bugeyes. Oh yes. We loved it so much, that to this day we have friendship necklaces that she later made. Both matching with little llama beads.
Onward we went. Canadians smiled and pointed at us. They liked her specialized plates she had at the time, IPWNU. We finally arrived at Calgary, found our hotel, chilled for a little bit- then we were off. We were poor kids, so we walked everywhere.
WARNING: Unless you are in decent physical condition and CAN walk for HOURS, I don't advise what we did those days in Canada.
Anywhozers, we set off for the concert. Arrived early, but clearly not early enough. Such a LONG LINE! Her tickets were online, so we thought we were supposed to be in the express lane. Walked up there, waited a good 30 minutes, then found out we weren't. Soooooo we cut in line. As in the very front of the line. A girl behind us started bitchin and I just gave her a dirty look as if to say, try me.
No one wants to anger a ginger.
We get through security, and go straight to the tees and stuff. I got a sweet All-American Rejects tee, and she got a Blink-182 hoodie and tee. I heard All-American Rejects start. It was glorious. Tyson Ritter has the voice of an angel. I'll never forget the way he sounded when he sang "The Wind Blows". I think I jizzumed a little.
Anywho, we went in, found our seats... WE WERE IN THE VERY BACK AT THE VERY TOP! Oh heeeelllllls nah. The place wasn't even half filled yet. This sucked. I could barely see that gorgeous man. Plus the jackasses behind us were so amused with the fact that Belle had a damn tattoo on her back. Annoying.
Ohh yes we SO moved up. Not even just to the front of the balcony- we moved UP- as far as we could get forward without being in the VIP crowd. No one was there to check us. We just kinda moved forward when no one was looking. Was there for All-American Rejects. Was there for Fall Out Boy- and again, when Patrick sang Dance, Dance, I think I changed my undies.
Oh yes. That means exactly what you think it means. So exciting.
Then finally- what Belle had been waiting eight years to see- Blink-182 was getting set up. She was super stoked and I was happy for her. Hell, here I am, and still haven't seen my favourite band ever after ten years of support.
Then it happens- two wenches walk up like they got something to own "Uhm, these are our spots." Belle and I just kinda shrug and start conversing amongst ourselves. "No really, these are our seats. You must be mistaken." I could tell by the tone that either daddy didn't love her, or loved her too much because she her whine was ever so unattractive and the snottiness in her voice was enough to make me wanna brawl. "We can all fit." Belle said. The stupid little wankers turned and went to get the po po on staff. "C'mon up here!" This guy said above us, sitting in a big booth just him and a few of his pals. "We'll party with you!" He said, and pulled Belle and I up. "Thanks!" We said, but the snitching wankers pointed us out at the same time we climbed up. The po po came over. They checked our tickets but couldn't quite make them out- Belle was smart enough before to realized it was on computer paper and smudged the shit out of it. "You'll have to get another ticket from the front booth." Said one. " Uh no!" Belle protested. " We paid good money for these seats!" What an actress.
They escourted us out of the stadium. We went to the bathroom and she started sobbing.
I don't mean pansy tears either, I mean don't go chasing waterfalls, because the river is flowing!
"I've waited so long to see them and now I don't get to." The band hadn't started yet but I felt it was close.
"NO!" I screamed at her, " I DID NOT TRAVEL SEVEN HOURS TO GET BOOTED OUT BY SOME STUCK UP BITCHES! YOU WANT TO SEE BLINK-182? WE'RE GONNA SEE THEM DAMNIT!" I grabbed her hand and marched out the bathroom, and into another entrance close to the front- about directly in front of the stage rather than off to the side like we were before. I saw a staff, and went up, "Stay here" I told the broken Belle. "Look," I proceeded, " We got booted out of our row down there, " as I pointed" and they told us our seats were over here and said you could help." I'm a good liar. It's so bad.
"Sorry but there's nothing I can do if I can't read the tickets. There's no extra seating down here." Ha! I CAN SEE IT WHORE! But all I said was, "Please, she's been waiting years to see these guys." The staffass shrugged and at about that time, Belle came running up " I found the other ticket! Here's one!" The staff looked at it, "oh in this row, right this way..."
I just looked at her. "How did you...?"
"I'll explain later." She whispers.
Perfect timing. The band comes on and I think that was the time that SHE needed some extra clothes- SO EXCITED!! After the first song she explained what happened.

"The guy I'm sitting next to saw me crying and asked why. I told him our story, and he gave me his ticket since they'd already seen him. That was his ticket that I handed to the lady. I asked him if he wanted me to pay him something for the ticket but..." she kinda looked at him and smiled a sec.
"He said he didn't take money and I'm pretty sure he wants something else in return."
Dear God. She sold our souls to the devil.
We rocked out, jammed out, and all the while, the greasy, long-haired, middle-aged guy sitting next to us was....sleeping while standing? Not sure. Pretty sure he was coked out. Whatever. But he finally woke one time and started talkin to Belle. I had to save her from this one- "WHAT?" I asked like I knew nothing.  He looks at me with a confused stare. "She said you were in on the deal or something, I don't know, talk to her!"
I looked at her confused. "No I didn't! I said you were with me! He wants sexual favors. We have to leave early."
Ohhh man. So the concert went on, and the dude said "This is our last one!" The lights went dark, she looked to him to see him sleeping or whatever again, "Go!" She said. I held onto her hand tightly, and we booked it up the stairs. We were about to the top when we heard "WAIT STOP!" I looked back and there he was, climbing after us.
"RUN!" I said.
We ran as fast as we could to the bathroom. "STOP! "He called after us.
Time for a quickchange. We took out our shirts and stuff we bought and changed into them. I put my hair up, she threw her hoodie over her head. I checked out- it was clear.
We ran to the doors we thought we first came into- "Sorry ladies you can't leave."
"WHAT?" We said.
"Not out these doors, they're locked. You have to go around.
oh.
We ran around, and out the doors, down the stairs, so hysterical with laughter. I took a picture of her in front of the Blink-182 sign. We began our journey back to our hotel. What a night. We were talking about the concert and about the creeper, when all of a sudden we hear running footsteps behind us and "Hey!"
No more nice ginger.
I turned around, put Belle behind me, fists raised "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?"
"Woah woah woah!" This little skinny guy threw his hands up, and jumped back. "Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you!" He said in a drunken slur. "Well what is it?" I put my fists down. Wrong guy. This one was about early twenties with a wicked cut on his brow. "You know where the bar is?" He aked. "We're not from arou-" but before I could get it out, she interrupted me. "Go two blocks down and it's a block to your left." I looked at her.
"Thanks!" He said. And as if just realizing what we were wearing for the first time, "You guys went to the concert?!" We sighed. "Yeah."
"AND GOT TEE SHIRTS?!" I think this guy pissed himself.
"Yes."
"Yeah, I got into a fight and got kicked out." He was smiling and proud."Okay see ya."And we walked off.
"I have no idea where I just lead him, I just didn't want to talk to him!" We laughed and for giggles, went to see where we had lead him.
I kid you not- it was a place called The Bar. I'll never doubt her intuition ever again.
We got back and just chilled. What a night. Tomorrow was where more excitement was to take place. But that's for the next blog.

What Is and What Is Meant

I live about 20 minutes from Town in a smaller town that doesn't have any stores, stops, or cops. Then again I guess a speed limit would have to be there for any cops to have anything to do. You must also know that for the past week there has been construction in between my little town and the Town.

I was driving back today- and in my rear-view mirror, noticed someone in a GMC driving like a maniac, passing everyone in his path in a construction zone. Wow. Really buddy? If you gotta pee that bad just pull over. Anywho, before I knew it, the crazy man was right behind me.
Oh no. Not this little lady you don't. You wait like everyone else! He not only rode the yellow line but...  well literally rode ON it! Seeing to pass me! Uh huh. Try it. I dare ya, was my first thought. As soon as I looked up again, we were coming to a stop behind a long line of cars. The flagger was notifying everyone that it would be about ten minutes.
I park my car, listen to some jams, and look at the man behind me again- though it is clear NO ONE is going anywhere or moving, he scoots his car up. Again. And again.
"NO ONE IS MOVING TARDASS!" I scream. But my beats were much louder than that and I'm not even sure his window was rolled down. We all sit there a while, staring at what is in front of the other. Then I notice the man get out, and two little girls about eleven or so. They walk to the front of their big vehicle thing and stare at my license plate. They giggle, point at it to show their -assumed- father, and got out their phones to take pictures.
I open my car door, "Something funny ladies?" I said with a smile. We'll see how this goes.
They shake their heads with excitement. "We like your plate! How did you get it?"
My plates are personalized and say KISSES. Used to be something I said whenever leaving someone. Like 'goodbye' or 'see ya'. I thought it might be appropriate for my car.
"I asked for them to be that way." I giggled, " I thought you were going to ask what an OKAPI was," as I have SAVE THE OKAPI on my plate frame. The man approaches me.
Dear Lord, I think, I'm about to rip him a new one.
"Wow, what is the deal, eh? Do you have to do this everyday?" He asked.
Hm. Seemed friendly enough.
"Yes sir, I live in (little town) about well.. only ten minutes from here going the speed limit. It's been like this for about a week now."
"Well what on Earth are they doing?" He asked.
"Well," I started, actually knowing now because I asked the same thing myself earlier that morning to one of the workers."They're stripping the road, filling the cracks, that sort of thing."
"They can't think of a better system than this? This is ridiculous! Where I'm from, Chicago, everyone would have passed the flagger for this! You don't seem like you're from here.The way you talk that is..."
I could tell by that tone, he was meaning the way I dressed too. Not exactly Montana country girl attire- Stilettos, dressed up for only I knew what, and the biggest prescription glasses you've ever seen; round and shot out from the 70's. "No sir, Mississippi." I say it with a little pride. Always good to know I'm never claimed from this state I take residency in.
"Ah, well I'm trying to get across the border today." He notions to the girls, "Taking these girls up to Calgary to see Tegan and Sara." He laughs to himself, " MY summer vacation and I take these guys to see em. What a dad huh?" As he rolls his eyes.
Wish my dad was that cool.
"Wow awesome! You gals have a good time!" I said.
"Yeah thanks." They smiled.
"You could have gone through (Town) you know. Canada is forty miles away, go straight up to Medicine Hat and take a left all the way to Calgary. Only seven hours." I advised.
"Too late now." He motioned in Town's direction, quite a drive considering construction but only ten minutes if there were none. "I guess." I said. "The border closes at nine."
"No kidding?" He says.
" Yes sir, I go every summer. You'll get there in time going this way too." Seeing it was only a little after five.
"What are we supposed to do if we don't? Get a hotel?" He asked a little worried.
I just shrugged, " I guess. But I know you'll make it."
I decided he was a good guy, so I let him in on a little secret.
"Hey, when you come back across from Canada to America, they'll ask you if you purchased anything while there. You tell them no. Tell them you were just at the waterslides or something."
He looked a little confused.
"If you tell them you bought something, even a soda or a shirt, they'll tax the ever living out of it then you'll have to pay. The catch is, it goes to the border guys that do it. It's just another way of getting money out of you, just say you don't have anything. They'll check in the windows and trunk, but if you get a souvenir hide it in your suitcase. You'll be fine."
"Gee thanks!" He smiled at me. We both looked at the direction our cars were going. We saw trail of cars from the other direction coming. It was almost time to get going. "Well, y'all have a safe trip." I said, getting into my car. He shook my hand, "You have a great night now miss."
"Yes sir."
We went for what seemed like forever down that stretch of road. I periodically looked behind me and noticed the man was no longer trying to pass me. He no longer looked rushed. Just stayed behind me. It was coming to my turn off, and I put on my blinker. The crazy man pulled up next to me in the other lane, "Thanks again!" He said out his window, "This your turn?" "Yes sir!" I said, " Hey, while you're up there, go to the Zoo, it's phenomenal!" " Oh we will!" He replied, and waved as I turned off.

I could have taken a different route with that man in conversation that day. I could have told him what an ass he was being, what a dumb driver he was, but had I opened my mouth with cruel intentions instead of kindness, I'd have never understood his intentions. Just a single father taking a couple girls to see a performance. He was rushing for the girls. Not because he was angry at the world. I wish more people did this in day to day life- showed a smile instead of a snarl. Listen. Then act.

Room 123

I'm working at a hotel that I'm not sure I'm able to say the name of, so we'll just leave it alone for legal sake.

So at this particular hotel, I, and a friend that happened to start workin there at the same time, are about two weeks in. We're still n00bs, but we kick ass at our job and we get stuff done. Anywhozers, To begin our morning routine, we have to meet in the break room, get our papers- one assigned for each floor- six floors. On said particular day, I walked in to a few of the fellow housekeepers shocked and looking to each other in horror.
"Room 123 is leaving! Room 123 is leaving!"
"Who is the room assigned to?!"
Everyone was so uppity about this particular room, I had to ask.
"What's with room 123?"

"Oh man!" The tale began, "He's been in there for ten days now! Never let anyone in to clean it, give him new towels, nothing!" Said one of the ladies.
"Yeah! Someone at the front desk told me that they took him by taxi two times a day for beer and have never seen any boxes come out!"
Wow.  I gotta see what this room is like! I thought. You know, only so much drama can go on whilst housekeeping, so this was definitely the gossip of the summer. 
"So who has the room?" I was also now a little antsy to see who had the room of doom.
"She does" One of the women pointed and looked at the door as my friend- we'll call her T- walked into the break room.
"Good luck...." Someone said to her. She was a bit confused so I filled her in.
Our supervisor walks into the break room. She knows what all the fuss is about. Her face gets serious and she said to all "I don't want anyone going into that room without a facemask and gloves."
After we collaborated and got our floors assigned, I walked T to her floor- we looked down the hall to where the Room was- one of the maintenance guys was hauling out beer box after beer box after beer box- finally had a stack about to his neck. Kids, he's not short guy. By any means. He had a disgusted look on his face. Disgusted and pissed.
"Good luck to whoever one of you has to clean that shit up. I can't even believe this...." He walks off.
I look at T.
She looks at me.
We walk closer to the room, getting a whiff of a strange funk.
Closer.
Closer.
Finally we realized the reek was coming from the Room. We peered around the corner, and anyone would have dropped their jaw from what we saw-
 Beer. Everywhere. Cans, cups, spills, mess... everywhere. Opened cans, empty cans, crushed cans, full cans, not even opened cans- in the bathroom, in the bed, all over. That's not the worst part. Many of us prayed that day that THAT was the worst...
There was chewing tobacco stuck to the dresser and desk. Puke on the floor- and yes, in the sheets. Where the man slept. For ten days. Towels covered in Lord knows what- browns, blacks, reds just a horrendous slew of colour never wanted to be seen. LITERAL FECES on the OUTSIDE of the toilet, and later to be found under the bed and on the mattress. This man had no animal with him. There was piss that lined the tops of the dresser. The lamps detached from their shades.
"There is no excuse for this..." Our supervisor comes up from behind us.
"I can't even fathom... just one guy! Ten days!" I said.
"They have been airing it out all morning and it still smells." She said.
I headed to my floor to start my cleaning- just happened to be the day that all baseball teams checked out. I had quite the mess to clean myself- spilled shakes everywhere, ripped off towel racks, spit balls on televisions, microwaves, and dressers... If I ever see a red team, green team, or purple team for baseball about high school age walking down the street... I don't know why they'd be there but if they ever were... I'd take one of their OWN bats and start swinging. Perhaps at some smaller balls than what they're used to hitting.
So at lunch time, everyone was curious as to how it went.
"I kneel'd in piss. I put my hand in puke; though I was wearing two gloves on each hand it was still gross."
We all had our horror stories to tell about the baseball teams and how their coaches are morons for letting them behave as such, but T took the cake for worst room that day.
"You guys don't get paid enough to put up with something like that. That is just nasty." Said our boss.

So, mister, whoever you are out there, know that you are not only NOT allowed back at the hotel, but any other *SAID NAME* hotel around the state. Consider yourself hated.

Happy Birthday with Roadsigns

There was about four hours before my teenage years were over and I was to be old.er.

I knew what had to be done- I had to steal a road sign. Not any road sign- THE road sign. The road sign that would signify my teenage years as over. Most girls get some party, flowers, treated to dinner and other such magicalness... Not this kid. I wanted a roadsign.

See I have a history of it- starting toward the end of high school years, well into college, and there I was, thinking wow, I've come so far. I've gathered quite the collection in a spot I'll remain unnamed and even given a few as presents. Big ones, small ones, usually ones that no one ever sees. Useless ones. Nothing like .... well. Nevermind, most are useless anywho. Speed limits, stop signs, mile markers, giant arrows... seems ages ago.

I had my boys and Squats with me- my main gal, down for anything at anytime. She's got bigger balls than the others put together. I say this matter-of-factly because she's been on some of those runs with me; fetching signs.  These guys? Not pro. Never been. I had a completely new crew and anytime I saw a sign I liked, I got the " noooo, that one's in the light! Let's go to another one." Damnit guys.

There was an hour before my teenage years were over. We HAD to find one HAD TO!!

And there it was in all of it's glory.... a snowflake. So beautiful. Just a simplistic white snowflake on a blue background.  I pulled over as close as I could get but there was a giant snow mound on the side of the road, so I couldn't get my car close enough.  Have no fear- I've don't this many times. Get on my knees as someone climbs on my back. Well, one of the younger bros got on my back- not a small dude, a well-built one. He wasn't quick either... so my back started to hurt. I just remember saying "dude, get off my back a minute and give me a break" as my arms were about to collapse. "almost got it...."
SHINK
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
"DUDE YOU SCREAMED GET IN THE CAR!!" Squats yelled and ordered.
I got in the driver's position and everyone filed into the car and we sped away.
You must know as a side note, that was the night I freaked everyone out by makin them think I dyed my hair black. I really just sprayed it with black hairspray.

This is important information because I reached up (gloves on) to see if I was bleeding.
Oh you didn't catch that?? MOTHA RUCKA DROPPED A SIGN ON MY HEAD!!

I reached up, and saw a black pool in my glove. It was dark, so I breathed a little assuming it was the hair dye stuff. Pulled into a gas station so Squats could have a better look- it was blood alright. Damnit. Looked back at the boys and told them to stay- THEY HAD THE DAMN THING IN THE BACK WITH THEM!!! C'mon, even n00bs should know it goes in the trunk!!
Whatever.
Went into the bathroom, and said " Don't freak me out man, just tell me if I need to go to the hospital."
She looks. Winces.
"Dude don't do that to me!"
"I think you need to get stitches."
Damnit.
"Let's go see my mum dude." She used to work at a hospital- she'd know.

We go to my mum's house, I wake her. "mum....?" I say softly.She mutters.
"Mum....?" I say a little louder. "hhhmm?"
" I need you to tell me if i need to go to the hospital."
She shoots up out of bed, flips on the light, "WHAT?"
"It's nothing see? I'm fine. I'm alive. I'm not crying. But I bashed my head pretty good. Can you look at it?"
She looks at it. Winces.
"MUM don't do that to me! "
Wash that black shit outta your hair and then we'll see it." The boys and Squats are waiting patiently in the living room.
"Dude look-" I look at a clock. Fifteen minutes til. We did it. I did it. The last road sign of my childhood.

I washed out the black, careful of the boo-boo. Had her look at it again, " Yeah, you gashed it pretty bad. Put some ice on it." She said calmly and went to bed.

"That's it?" One of the boys said. "She didn't freak out!"
"Yeah, she knows I'm tough."
The boys went home, Squats left, and I was on the couch watchin some adult swim within the next half-hour.  About three in the mornin, I felt my shoulder very wet- went and checked it in the mirror, and the blood had flowed down my head. I washed my hair again, and finally passed out at about five. Woke in the mornin, saw it had crusted over, and now I live with a cool story to tell.

Little rats on the floor

I'm staying with my bff's mother- Marilyn- for the summer. This small piece of information will help immensely with the rest of the story.

Anywhozers, Marilyn's spastic cat Snowball, appropriately named as she is stark white, was totes prego recently. I was on kitty watch, seeing as how Marilyn's and I's work schedule was different. She'd watch her when she could, vise versa.
One day I was coming home from work, walked in and saw a bloodbath and a small rat on the linoleum in the kitchen, Fig sniffing at it. "What the eff did you do this time Fig?" I asked my pear-shaped kitty. She was known for terrorizing things.  I called Marilyn, asking what towels were okay to use to clean up such a disaster.
"A rat? How did a rat get in the house?" She asked. I heard a small cry. Oh shit. I looked at the rat on the ground. No movement. "You don't think Snowball gave birth, do ya?" Ohhh shit batman.  I look at Fig, she looks at me. I look over to the one-eyed cat Cupcake, she looks at me and runs, as she always did. I look at Snowball on the couch. She looks at me. I get closer. She looks at me. " I don't think so, she's just sitting on the couch." I go back to the rat on the floor, looking a bit beyond it and seeing a large pool of blood on the top of the stairs. I hear the small noise again.
    I get really close to the thing on the floor- it MEWS AT ME! OH SHIT BATMAN! "Marilyn, the rat on the floor is a baby! The crazy bitch shit a baby in the kitchen!" I say. "Oh no! I'm coming home now!" I call the boyfriend- expert on cats and such. " TAKATAKATAKA! THERE'S A BABY ON THE FLOOR! SNOWBALL HAD HER BABIES! THERE'S A CRUSTED BABY ON THE FLOOR!"
To which he replies calmly, as he does, " Well, poor a little warm water on it, not hot, and pick it up with a towel, give it to Snowball and see what she does." I do the following, as soon as the water hits the baby, I see now that it is lively and noisy. I bring it to Snowball on the couch, she looks at it, licks it, and starts vigorously cleaning it as it looks to feed. I notice something black in her fur - it's another baby. Crazy bitch already picked a favourite child. "Tak, there's two babies!"
"Two? " He says, " Only two? There should be at least eight."
Oh shit.
"You're telling me I have to go hunting for babies?"
"Yes, check everywhere- under beds, behind couches, under tables..."
What the hell. To all prego cat owners out there, if you know that your cat is gonna be popping babies, for the love of God, pen her up. Just shove her in a cage for a few weeks.
I started my voyage checking upstairs, then went back to the blood spot above the stairs- I started down the stairs only to be stopped by another blood-crusted baby on the second step!
"WHAT THE EFF?! SHE'S A TERRIBLE MOTHER! TAKA THERE'S A BABY ON THE STAIRS! THE STAIRS DUDE!!"
He calmly replies, "Well, do the same thing with it, give it to Snowball." So I do.
Again, she decides NOW to be a mother, and takes the child.
"Awwww look at the babies!" Blah blah blah, freakin out on the phone
*FAST FORWARD*
Marilyn comes home-
"Oh my God!" She exclaims as I tell the tale of the baby hunt.
We get the blood cleaned up, I'm sitting on the couch opposite Snowball and her starving minions, when all of a sudden she jumps out of her little  square home thing, sniffs at her twaa, licks some blood, Marilyn says " Oh I think she's just cleaning herself." BAM. She shits out another baby, and leaves it to go back to her square home thing with the other babies! We act quickly and put the baby with the others.
"Oh they're all so cute!" She says. "That one is Tiffany! The lightest. That one can be taka! Since he's the cat master and knew what the heck was going on!" She was ecstatic.
*FAST FORWARD*
The next evening, driving home from work (20 minute drive) Marilyn calls- "Are you off work?"
"Yes coming home now did you need something?"
"They're dying! All the babies are dying! Snowball has faulty tits!"
WHAT THE EFF SNOWBALL!!
I get a baby bottle and some formula for the little day-old things, and speed 90 or so home. Get there, find out that they don't even know how to bottle feed until 5 weeks old. So what do we do? Hold Snowball down and let the -last- baby feed.
Three died before I got home. "Maybe they're just really tired?" I say with hope.
Marilyn stared me down. "Tiffany, they're dead."
Heart break.

Moral of the story? I was serious, cage those pregnant bastards!