Friday, April 29, 2011

They Got Hitched- royal styley.

And it's done, they are married! What a wonderful event, I have been watching it all day and I simply can't get enough. The dresses, the hats, the fancy cars, it's all so exciting! A modern day fairy tale is what they're calling it. But for it to actually be a "modern day" fairy tale Kate would have to be Asian, William would be black, and their parents some sort of Hispanic Caucasian mix. That's how Disney likes to do it these days. And brother Harry would roll down the aisle in his wheelchair, his bright red hair definitely helps the cause though. But honestly I think Harry is devilishly good looking. I've had a secret crush on that guy since the day he was punished for being photographed partying in a Nazi costume. As I told my friend Sarah, not just any red head can pull off the swastika like he did. And boy oh boy is Kate's sister "Pippa" a hotty. Geesh. That was awfully brave of her to wear a white gown, as the Maid of Honor no less. That shit just wouldn't fly around here. I'm gonna have to consult the professional MOH Ashley Wergin and get her thoughts on this one. But between Kate, Pippa and their handsome little bro that family has some good genes. Wouldn't it just be oh so perfect if Harry and Pippa got together and had beautiful little ginger babies? Poor Willy definitely got the short side of the handsome stick. Too bad he couldn't have been fathered by his mom's man-mistress, as well.

Kate, I mean Katherine, looked absolutely stunning as I think everyone expected. Her dress was inspired by the great Grace Kelly and her body was inspired by the great Mary Kate Olsen. I did find the Wedding party to be a bit different... Besides Pippa the other bridesmaids were all under the age of eight. Is that how they do things over there? Or does Kate just prefer the company of children? I wonder what that bachelorette party would have been like. Sponge Bob lingerie perhaps? And I think I would feel kind of weird playing "put the condom on the twinkie" with a bunch of seven year olds. Not to mention wearing a penis sash. Shots all around for the bachelorette party woo hoo!

What I really want to see is the reception. Do Brits do all of the stupid wedding dances like we do here in Amurika? Will the queen be getting down to the Cha Cha or the electric slide? What about speeches? Harry strikes me as the type to be completey sloppy by the time his comes around. I could see him revealing all sorts of things he shouldn't about William's past and other ex girlfriends. And Pippa will be all drunk and depressed crying through out her speech that no matter what, her wedding, let alone her entire life, will never live up to sister Kate's.

I will admit, I was pretty jealous watching the entire event unfold. I know it might come as a shock, but I've never really been a "princess" kind of girl. When other little girls were dressing up as Snow White and Cinderella and going through the whole princess phase I was more caught up in wanting to be a bumble bee or a skunk. But today, I kind of wanted to be a princess. Ruling a country? I wouldn't hate it. Jade is hoping that Kate and Will have a daughter so "somehow Knox will meet her, date her, and then marry her so we can all go to the next wedding." And that's a direct quote. I can already see the headlines- "Princess Elizabeth the 8th to marry Nebraska boy Knox James Lafleur. The reception will be held at Memorial stadium at request of the groom's parents." Haha.

Alright, enough of this nonsense. It's Friday, I've got cocktails to drink and Rebecca Black to listen to... Oh wait, I guess that's not true. I actually have to pack my bags and head to the Overland Park Convention Center in an hour for a full weekend of culinary high school competitions. Loving life as a commoner here in Topeker.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Kate and Willy

So I just wanted to clarify real quick that I'm not a lesbian, nor have I ever been one, or ever had confused thoughts thinking I was. I can understand the confusion given one of my recent blogs from last week, and also because I know I often write a lot of bull shit on here, but just to clear things up, I'm not a dyke. So you can imagine my confusion last weekend in Norfolk when one of my mom's friends gave me a comforting hug and told me how proud she was of me for "being so comfortable in my own skin." I looked to my mom like "what the hell" and she just gave me a puzzled expression. So I smiled back and said something along the lines of, "yeah, I am who I am." And she responded encouragingly, "you sure are. Good for you!" Well, after a little discussion with my mom and Jade I found out that those two went to lunch with said friend, and told her about my blog and casually mentioned the lesbian line and somewhere in between the girly chit chat it must not have been mentioned I was kidding. Long story short, the mom connection in all of Norfolk probably thinks I live in Topeka so I can be "out and proud" without the Norfolk judgment. And when they I hear I'm dating someone named "Chris" well you tell me what they might think. Chris and Taylor, two lesbians made for each other, our gay couple friends are the cute queers named Zach and Tyeler. But it's not that I don't like lezzys, I think they're great, they make killer PE teachers and coaches. And those new artsy ones are cool too. It's just not the Norah Jones lifestyle for me.

Now that I've got that cleared up, let's talk about more important things. Like President Obama's birf certificate... At least it will clear one thing up for my friend Steph Pohlman, that Obama's first name is indeed Barack, and not Brock, as she previously thought. But is it real? Does it even matter? I mean of course it does, but he's the president of the United States, if he can't get a legit looking fake certificate then the world of fake ID's as we know it is doomed. I just don't get why he waited so long to bring it out and then BAM all of the sudden decides to show it one day. Maybe he just couldn't find it? I know I always have the darndest time finding things like my passport or social security card when I need them, a birth certificate would be just as difficult I bet. And you know it's always in the last place you look... Which seems fitting, I guess I probably wouldn't keep looking after I found it. Of course Trump is claiming this is all his doing, that he is the force behind what finally got Brock to show it to the press. Oh Trump. Imagine a country ran by this douche. Gold floors and Flock of Seagulls haircuts for all! I'll take another Bush over this guy anyday... And I mean like from the Bush family, don't want any lesbian confusion here. But for real if I had to choose right now someone to be our next president I would choose...I would choose... Sure wish I knew more about politics so I could make up even one name right now. Michael Douglas. And Annette Bening as his wife. Or Carl Pelini.

Speaking of royalty. Tomorrow is the big day. It's here. It's finally here. Are you getting up to watch it? Am I? Hells no. I could barely sit through my sister's catholic wedding, why one earth would I sit through one I wasn't even officially invited to. It's DVR'd though, don't get me wrong. Because I do have a few curiosities. Like will everyone in attendance take communion? Because that will take forever. And what about church wine? Will everyone drink from the same glass like we do at most Catholic churches when the Priest just barely wipes the slobber away between each person? I don't care if it's the blood of Christ, I don't want the spit of the person in front of me in my mouth.

The only thing I really care about is Kate's dress. All the magazines keep saying she is going for something simple, so perhaps David's Bridal might be the designer of choice? Maybe Burlington Coat Factory if she's really trying to appeal to the common folk, they have dresses now you know. I heard some people talking about it at Big Lots. Regardless, I can only imagine how amazing the whole thing will be. It will be the first royal wedding I've ever seen, well that's not entirely true, I guess I did get to see a little tid bit of Prince Akeem's wedding when he married Lisa McDowell. So if tomorrow is anything like that 1988 wedding we are all in for a show.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Growing Up Ruud.

So I'm driving home from work today and out of nowhere get the sudden urge to drink. Now this doesn't sound that unlikely I know, but I today was a short day so it was actually only 10:00 a.m. when I was driving home. What triggered my urge for alcohol?And then I remembered, well duh! It's Kim Rudd's birthday, no wonder I am subconsciously craving a beer. People who don't even know Kim are probably wanting to drink today. If you're reading this and it reminds you to write a nice little diddy on her wall today in honor of her bday, don't bother. The fool doesn't even have her wall activated right now, on her birthday even! It's like a Facebook sin, but whatevs, her loss. She is a professional working teacher now, you can't blame her. Kindergarten teacher today, Principal of the school tomorrow, she is taking over LPS one position at a time. I can't wait for the day she is the athletic director at Southeast and has to "punish" the athletes for drinking. Kim "I drink on the way to basketball games in the bus" Ruud. Oh, yes, that'll be the day. I'd sure love to do a quick run through of all the shenanigans Kim's gotten herself into in college but I don't think she'd find that appropriate, so I'll hold back. But just for shit's sake I'll mention just a few things that have nothing to do with her...Just simple memories. That like I said, have nothing to with her. Nada.


1. Sleeping at the bar on the nasty couch only to wake up the next morning ready to bartend.

2. Calling the fire department after getting her arm stuck in a couch.

3. Inches away from driving her Pathfinder on a frozen lake because she "finds her own path."

4. "Day drinking" at ATO for 36 hours straight Monday-Wednesday.

5. Storybook 2007 anyone? ..."Wait, so everyone wasn't skinny dipping?"

6. Katwalk 2008- owning the runway (and the bar before it) to say the least.

7. The $275 Party Day- Stealing the LCC beer cart, being chased all over the fairways by the golf pro, and being discovered at last behind the tennis courts chugging beers.

8. Gameday 2005 "My dad OWNS this Stadium! He owns it!" said to police taking her away.

9. "So not everyone takes vodka in a beer bong?" SB 2006.


The list could easily go on and on. But I'll stop while I'm ahead. I can't believe it's already been three years since her 2-1. Time sure does fly when you're blacked out. I remember her 21st like it was yesterday, it was one of the worst days of my life- I was trapped in an MDS study and was unable to celebrate. Surrounded by homeless people and recovering drug addicts I toasted to Kim with the one glass of water I was allowed for her 21st in 2008. It was a special moment.

And Kim's birthday only means one thing... Mine is only 20 days away. And don't worry, my wall will definitely be enabled so mark it in your calendars right now to wish me something nice, and make it clever while you're at it, none of that typical "happy bday" nonesense. Put some thought into it. Alright, now go wish Kim a happy bday on her one wall post that allows it if you haven't already. She won't admit it, but she's a huge Fb Girl so it will really mean a lot to her.

Monday, April 25, 2011

It's Monday.

Well I hope you all had a very hoppy Easter. Mine was pretty good, I went to my first Baptist church service with Chris and his family in Fremont. It was no Westboro, but for the most part it was nice. I will say, it was a little different from the Catholic service I'm used to, there was no kneeling, no holy water, no "father, son, holy spirit, almond." And the other thing I couldn't figure out, which might be said at Catholic services too and I just don't pay attention, is when the minister continued to say how God is always praying for us when we're struggling... So I wondered, who does God pray to? Himself? Or... Or does God have a God us Catholics don't know about it? And in that case, I better make sure and spread the word because Catholics do NOT like to be left in the blue about things. The other thing that was weird was that no communion bread was given. If you don't have communion how can you leave early? Catholics need little mile markers through out the service so we know when it's okay to slip out early, but not too early so God does indeed know we came and worshipped and is able to put a check mark next to our name (it's just a bunch a paper work that has to do with length of stay in purgatory I guess.)

Anyway, shortly after service (the whole service) and lunch, Chris and I got in the car to make the trek back to Peker. I was lucky enough to be able to color eggs the day before in Norfolk, but I was disappointed no one had an Easter egg hunt for me. Chris offered to hide golf balls around the house once we got home but I told him it just wouldn't be the same. I don't know why people think only kids like the challenge of a good egg hunt, I still think I would find it quite entertaining. I'm hoping Knox will be up and about next year at this time so I will have someone to share the fun with, and even though I'll obviously be way better than him for at least the next 6-7 years I think it's my duty as a good aunt to teach him the art of mastering an egg hunt. I was the Norfolk Country Club egg hunt winner for three years running.

Today, as every Monday is, has been a real struggle. I was at one of my favorite ghetto schools, so I really anticipated a good day, but boy was I wrong. The kids were yelling and screaming and literally jumping on their desks. It was awful, I was in and out in about 20 minutes because I just couldn't take it. The worst of it was probably a little girl (and by little I mean HUGE) who sat in the front row directly in front of me and continued to ask me the most stupid ass questions the entire time I was trying to present.

"I don't like really like to take pictures. But what do you do in photography?"

I wasn't in the mood to play, so I just bluntly responded with,

"You take pictures."

"Oh, okay. And I have another question. What is fashion design?"

"You design fashions."

"Oh, okay. And what about video game design?"

"Give you one guess."

"Oh, okay. And what do you study?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, okay. And can I have more chips?"

It went back and forth, back and forth, for twenty minutes as the rest of the class hooted and hollered like a bunch of monkeys. Replaying that conversation I realize it doesn't sound that annoying, but it was. And she didn't have the slightest idea, no matter how many times I ignored her, that her questions were not relevant. Whoever once said that there is no such thing as a stupid question is an idiot.

I have a bad feeling it's going to be a long week. First of all, I can barely sleep at night as it gets closer and closer to William and Kate's wedding. And the other thing I'm anxious for is the National Teen Chef competition that I will be working in Kansas City this weekend. I am just thrilled I get to work not just Friday night, not just Saturday, but I get to give up my Sunday, as well to be surrounded by hundreds of the best high school chefs from all over the country. It's going to be a weekend to remember! I can barely wait. I love teenagers. Love love love them.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

My first 25 year old panic attack?

Oh how time flys when you're busy degrading yourself in a new high school classroom day after day. Today I find myself in the exact same high school I was in one year ago today. I remembered just because I got a speeding ticket last year on the way so this year I was extra cautious. The funny thing is that I saw a car pulled over today in the exact spot I was pulled over at last year. I tried to look really close to see what kind of car it was pulled over, I had a creepy feeling it might be a Grey Camry, that like I was going to witness a weird time warp and see me sitting there. I know that makes no sense, but I thought it was too ironic the way it was anyway. I love to play the "one year ago today" game, it's when I pretend to tell myself from the past what I will be doing in one year. Would I have guessed last year that today I would be living in Peker still driving to new high schools selling my soul to the teenage devil everyday? Well, probably not. Even more fun (depressing) is to play the ten years ago game.

Me today: "Hey thirteen year old Taylor, where will you be in ten years?"

13 year old me: "Umm, well, I'll probably be in like California, or maybe New York (these two big cities are to Norfolk kids what being a doctor or lawyer is to ghetto kids) and maybe I'll be an actor, or maybe I'll like work for a fashion magazine, or like a lawyer. (I was also slightly ghetto, remember)

And then I probably arrogantly chomped my gum and said,

"but I'm like late for track practice, so is there anything else you want to tell me?"

Me today: "Yes, stop being such a little bitch because you are going to pay in ten years when you have to cater to little bitch students. Like seriously pay. And don't worry, you're not a lesbian, you're just gonna have to wait a while to find a guy that doesn't bug the shit out of you all the time. His name will be Chris."

And then my 13 year old self rolls her eyes, tosses her crimped hair to the side, and runs off to track practice.

Now let's go back to me as a senior in high school. I was probably sitting in class scribbling violent things into a creative writing journal I wrote in every day not paying attention to the poor guest speaker in class that day. I wasn't talking, but I wasn't listening either. I couldn't wait to leave high school, which again, is so ironic to me it's my job to go back. It was so lonely being popular.... Says the girl who got up for Prom, the last choice of them all. I can't even write that without chuckling, I wasn't a loser, but there sure seemed to be a lot of people who didn't like me. And the funny thing is that I went through a time (about a week right before Homecoming voting) when it bothered me that so many people thought I was "stuck up." Oh silly insecure me. Little did I know that all the douche bags were just as stuck up as me in their own ways. High school is just a huge cest pool of pathetic insecurities.

It only took me about 2 weeks to realize being insecure in high school is way too cliche so I went back to not giving a shit if people thought I was nice or mean. Just to clarify, I was never, NEVER, a bully. I actually have a real soft spot for the little freaks. If anything I was a bully to the bullys, and that's still what I try to do today.

But anyway, what ignited all of these thoughts today was a show that I saw on Oprah yesterday. She had the director of Liar Liar on, which I still believe is some of Carrey's best work, and he was talking about how the most important thing in life is that you find something to do that you absolutely love and are completely passionate about. Because if you don't, you will die a little everyday. I could not agree more. I die just a little bit every morning when I lace up my Chucks, put on my black pants, and button up my Chefs jacket and have to look myself in the mirror and think "what would 8 year old you think of this?" And I know the answer. Eight year old me would laugh her ass off. She'd think it was hilarious. Just to give you an idea of the type of intense little kid I was, I asked my dad to put me on a lifting regimen in first grade, I begged to take Creatine in second, by third grade I was involved in every athletic competition I could find. I would fall asleep at night listening to the sweet sound of Tony Robbins tapes, "Taking Control of Your Future." People say you are your own worst critic. Well younger me is the worst critic of all because she's a judgemental little snatch who has no idea of the real world and truly believes she's gonna do something that others will envy with her life. My biggest complaint from teachers from the time I was in Preschool up until high school was that I need to "SLOW DOWN." Well, right now I'm thinking it's time I need to speed up. No more of this jacking around in a chefs outfit. This summer I'm going to figure something out. Wow. I just realized how fitting this is, this seems to be my first 25 year old panic attack. I'm not even 24 yet, will be in less than a month, but it's already starting. Good. That means I'm starting to get back on track, already ahead of the game again. Okay this has been quite the rant. I think I need to chill out with a little Jay Z Hard Knock Life for a moment before I go back into the room. TGIT people. TGIT.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

The Morning After

A couple of weeks ago Arty Mecom came to hang out with Chris, and me of course, but mostly Chris. Saturday night the two of them sat out on the deck and drank beer after beer and told college stories from five at night until roughly three in the morning. They were like two little school girls giggling and laughing until the wee hours of the morning. And if you know Aj at all, you can just imagine the types of alcohol infused stories he has up his sleeve, this kid should probably be dead at least ten times over by now. Even though my friends and I have our share of great stories, I have to admit most just don't compare with the types of shenanigans guys, especially frat guys, were able to pull off in college. Most sororities just had a huge stick up their ass. I'm not saying I would have liked to have been able to punch holes in walls or throw a TV or two out the window like most frats, but a keg in the basement or a party on the sun deck might have been pretty fun every once in a while.

So even not having been a part of 99.9% of the crazy shit Aj and Chris were talking about I was still quite entertained listening to their tales of "cheeky fun." That night I went to bed and had the most detailed dream about waking up in my bunk at Theta, smelling the delicious Raspberry scones Cook Margey had just defrosted, and then walking into the kitchen only to find ol Fritzy the house mom parked in front of the morning pastries on a huge horse with two shot guns at her side. I can only assume this has something to do with the numerous times Fritz scolded me for breaking into the kitchen after hours and taking more than my fair share of bean dip and turkey. But anyway, Fritz told me to check the Theta mailbox. Inside the mailbox I found the coveted copy of the Underground newspaper, oh how I loved the underground! Which of my skanky friends made the edition this time? Which didn't? What clever things would be written about comedic campus drunks like Nick Vacanti and Alex Allemang? And I mean this in the best way of course. Just for the record, it was always my college dream to be asked to be a member of such a trashy, hate filled newspaper. I'm truly sad it never happened for me. But I digress. In my dream the paper wasn't hate filled at all, but instead it was short, hilarious stories from all sorts of students telling their favorite college memories. Obviously this was inspired by the hours of drunken reminiscing I'd witnessed from Chris and Aj before going to bed.

I woke up with a mission. As a tribute to college, as a thank you really, I decided it's going to be my duty to collect as many of those great college stories, that our alter blackout egos have been so gracious to let us retain, as I can find. So how do I do this? Well, for starters I know all of you have some pretty great stories, I'm thinking of a few right now. So tell them! I started a site, www.themorningafterbooksite.blogspot.com that explains everything a little more, click on the photo on the right to be directly taken to it. You can either email me your stories at themorningafterbook@gmail.com, or mail them to me at The Morning After 1181 SW Webster Ave Topeka, KS 66604. I'm starting a movement people. I'm not sure what that means, but if felt right saying it.

I know this might sound a bit random, but I'm really devoted about wanting to put together a collection of all the best drunk night tales of debauchery and utter sloppiness I can get my hands on. And I don't want your story to be left out. I've already began working on this and have had quite a few stories given to me, I've included a few on the website so go check them out to get a better idea for what I'm talking about. Everything submitted is completely anonymous and completely true. Now it's your turn. How much fun did you have in college?

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

4/19...I'm so excited, I'm so excited, I'm so scraredddd.

So I'm assuming most of you don't even realize/care tomorrow is 4-20. As soon as I left the Jim Morrison-Sublime worshipping haven of Norfolk Senior High I stopped caring, as well. That is until I found myself back in high schools on this completely annoying day devoted to pot smoking posers who do anything in their power to let the world know their high. Wow, did I really just use the word "poser?" Must be an affect of using the words Norfolk, pot, and Sublime all in one paragraph. If I start quoting KMK I'm really gonna freak.

It might be because of my anxiety for tomorrow, but all day today when kids asked me what day it was I responded with "April 20th." And then of course they'd all snicker and laugh at my mistake. I did it in every class I couldn't control it. It was like the Friends episode when Joey can't not say "mmmm noodle soup" because he's thinking so intently about not saying it. I'm pretty sure the male student teacher was convinced I'm a huge pot head, because by the third time I said it wrong he shook his head and looked at me like "what the hell is your problem." I'm just paranoid because of last year. I was working at a pretty wealthy school where it was obvious it was only cool to smoke pot if someone else knew you were smoking pot. It reminded me of Norfolk, except rather than carrying your weed in a Maurices purse the girls carried their weed in Marc Jacobs, and the boys didn't drive around in Hondas at lunch to smoke, but BMWs instead. I remember last year half of the kids acted drunk and the other half acted out every stoner cliche they'd ever seen on Comedy Central replay movies. It was painful.

My only hope for tomorrow revolves around the fact that I am working in a very, VERY, ghetto school. I'm talking metal detectors and pat downs from a security guard. So I'm thinking that most of the kids just won't even bother with coming to school at all, or if they do come it's because they just don't give a shit because they've probably been smoking pot since they were five and 4/20 means nothing to them because they've been smoking at all hours of the day for as long as they can remember. That's what I'm hoping for anyway... Who decided 4:20 is the most popular time to smoke I wonder? I've heard it was coined in the 90s. But then I want to know why there wasn't a Save By the Bell episode about it? Maybe two drug related episodes just would have been too much for TBS. It was probably between Jesse and her energy pills and Zack and his weed. We all obviously know who won, but I can't help but think an episode with Zack and Screech smoking pot in Zach's sweet bedroom wouldn't have been just as successful, if not more, than Jesse's "I'm so excited" breakdown. But that's neither here nor there right now.

Well tomorrow I'm not going to hate on the little kiddos for celebrating the holiday, I just hate when they can't keep the celebrations out of class is all. Ewww I sound like such a teacher. I think just to be a prankster I'll tell the class I'm making brownies just to see their reactions. Who am I kidding though, I'm not going to get reactions out of anything I do tomorrow.

Monday, April 18, 2011

Worlds of White Trash

And another Spring Game has come and gone that I was unable to attend. But I survived not going. It was actually kinda nice to wake up Sunday morning without wanting to die or without that deeply embarrassing feeling of knowing I did one too many dumb things the night before but not knowing exactly what they were. Or without wondering where my debit card or camera or phone or sunglasses were, possibly all four if it was really that fun of a day. While I'm sure all of you who went had a great time, at least I can bet I had a much better Sunday than you did. A sober Sunday in Topeker is better than a hungover one in Lincoln... Not really, but let me pretend.

Since Chris and I were unable to go to Lincoln on Saturday, we settled for the next best thing: Worlds of Fun. Did I mention it was opening day? Because it was. I figured out that every person who didn't go to college, so didn't have a spring game to attend, goes to Worlds of Fun on this day. The last time Chris and I went to Worlds I remember being worried that the poor little park might soon shut down because it was that empty, but then I remembered that Chris and I went on a Wednesday afternoon. A day when all of those good hard working folk we were surrounded by on Saturday were obviously working. I have no more worries, the park was absolutely packed. From 1 p.m.-5 p.m. Chris and I were only able to ride four rides. The lines were a tad long you could say.

It was a melting pot of people in attendance. We saw families of 20, middle schoolers in groups of fifty, and every age in between stuffing their faces with turkey legs, cotton candy and funnel cakes. The dress code of the day was very casual. Although I found it to be a bit chilly, so I was dressed in jeans and a scarf, I saw many others in tube tops, halter tops and jean skirts. The one thing they all had in common was the Chiefs emblem. I don't know how Chris and I missed the memo, but Chiefs attire appeared to have been a requirement. Next time.

We passed the time in line by people watching (judging.) I was very happy I chose to wear a hat and sunglasses because I am certain there had to have been more than a few high school students who might have recognized me as "culinary lady!" For as awkward as it was to see teachers in public when you're younger, I am ten times more awkward when I happen to see a student who might know me. The middle school girls looked like they were either 8 or 18. I told Chris my theory that 99% of girls who are born with boobs early are doomed into slutdom. Think about the skanks you knew in middle school. It's just the way it goes, they really can't help it. The skanks were covered in henna tattoos all over their bellys and the good girls were covered in face paint. Why anyone would pay for a henna tattoo is beyond me. Wouldn't a black Bic pen do just the same? And speaking of useless stuff, how about the "rice jewelry" that all theme parks try to sell. Here, let me pay $10 for a "T" written on a grain of rice. I asked if they had corn jewelry but the vendors didn't respond. It's more colorful I thought, and a little bit bigger so you can do more with it. But if we're gonna do corn we might as well string a radish and wear it as jewelry too.

Long lines aside, it was good day. Besides the fact that when I came off the Mamba I had a wet butt. The Mamba isn't a water roller coaster and it wasn't raining. So your guess is as good as mine as to why I had to walk around for the next forty minutes with a wet ass. I know I didn't pee my pants. We finished the weekend off with a trip to Big Lots to purchase cheap plants and basket holders. But once inside we saw the price on Doritos and pop was pretty cheap too. And they were practically giving away laundry soap, which we were low on. Next thing I knew we had done almost all of our shopping at Big Lots, a store that I find comparable to a fancy, bigger Dollar Tree. Topeka is setting in stronger than ever and we can't even help it. As we were walking out of Big Lots with bags of goodies I turned to Chris and said,
"I think we just officially became Topekans." And then I cried a little.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Live Every Day Like It's Your Birthday

How was it 80 degrees yesterday and now forty and freezing today? I'm not happy about this. I had a fun in the sun filled week planned in Omaha. Tomorrow was supposed to be Knox's first zoo trip, but no one wants their first trip to the zoo in cold rainy weather. It's supposed to be a moment you remember forever. Think about your first trip to the zoo. The fun of climbing on the brass statues out front, the thrill of feeding the goats your cardboard popcorn box in the petting zoo area, and let's not forget the joy we all felt when first tugging on the slimy utters of the milkable cow in the dairy store. I wanted to hold Knox up to the fake utters just to see if he'd try to suck, I mean just to see. One of my first zoo memories occurred at the Denver Zoo in 1989, and thanks to my dad it's almost all on video camera. And also thanks to my dad a majority of the film features no animals at all, but instead it's him closing up on a mother breast feeding her baby, and I'm talking about a human mother, just for the record.

But after Denver most of my memories are chalked full of the one and only Henry Doorly, the best zoo in North America if you ask me. Many a birthday, school field trip, and just spur of the moment trips have been spent there. Feels like it was just yesterday when my parents took me there on my 19th birthday, the day before I moved to New York to become a nanny, only to find out I didn't like New Yorkers and/or children so I flew home 2 days later. Just another life lesson learned the hard way.

But anyway, Topeka actually has a zoo. And funny enough, it's only about 3 blocks from where Chris and I live. On my way to work almost everyday I can look to my right on Gage St. and see elephants and giraffes. I always wondered what kind of people live close to zoos. Now I know. To the right of me is Westboro, to the left, a zoo. The best of both worlds really. Speaking of Westboro, the other day as I was doing one of my daily drive bys I saw a uniformed solider posing outside of the church for a candid photo taken by his girl friend. It was like seeing Sadam take a photo in front of the White House.

And now just one more day and then it's time to celebrate Kate's birthday! As I've mentioned before, Kate's life motto is "live everyday like it's your birthday." So you can imagine how much fun will be had on her actual Bday when every other day is just as exciting. If I know Kate, and I think I do, tomorrow will entail a free for all shopping extravaganza at J Crew and Anthro for anyone who wishes her a happy birthday. Then we'll go off and have cupcakes and champagne somewhere just as great, and we will finish the night with a Flinstone themed party that will unfortunately have to be cut short when Aunt Becky goes into labor with the twins! Eeek! Nevermind, that was Michelle Tanner's 5th birthday not Kate's 24th. For some reason I always get Kate and Michelle Tanner memories mixed up. I think it's because they remind me of each other. Regardless, it's gonna be a great Friday, Friday, Friday, fun fun fun fun fun fun fun.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

That's what I like about Lincoln.

I drove to work in an exceptionally good mood today. Not sure what exactly put me in such a delightful state of mind, probably the nice weather. But I chose to build on my good attitude and put in an old CD from middle school to cruise along to. Nothing like a little Dre and old school Eminem to make a good mood even better. I'm pretty sure that in our Abercrombie shirts and pink superstar tennys, my 12 year old girl friends and I were the blackest white kids at Norfolk middle. The ghetto rap music was just so relatable to us at the time I guess, we couldn't help it.

Anyway, en route to work today, I told myself I wouldn't let anything ruin my great mood. Nothing. I ran through a quick list of potential threats that could set me off. Turns out I have quite a few. For starters, something as simple as entrance doors can piss me off. Let me clarify, I don't hate doors all together, I just hate when doors are labeled as "enter only" and "exit only." Is this ever really necessary? Can't I just enter wherever the hell I want? I don't think the flow of traffic is going to be that thrown off. And since we're talking about entrances, you know what else really chaps me? When I go into a school with my 700 pieces of luggage and have to balance them all on my side so I can lean over and push the handicap button only to find that once inside the initial entrance there is another set of doors with a new handicap button to push. What are the chances any handicap person would only ever want to go so far as just the first entrance and chill there for a while? It's pointless. Like a roundabout, initial good idea, but you've got way too many people stopping when they shouldn't. But it's fine, these things weren't going to bother me today.

You know what else doesn't bother me? The sad fact that it's looking like the Spring game just isn't in the cards this year for me. Oh well. I didn't really want to go that bad. I didn't want to start out at the bar (inside or out) and drink a few beers and look at all the silly college photos that fill the walls and think back to a simpler time. Or sit in the beer garden with the sun shining on my face and watch unathletic college boys shoot hoops or play bags. Did I want a drink at Mainstreet, but only for a quick second because I have never really felt in place there but always try to make it feel okay anyway? Yeah, but only one. Would I have headed to the Downtown after to make sure and seal the deal on my sloppiness by dancing awkward and alone on their makeshift dance floor with Dj Jt Pauly D McBeats mixing killer techno songs in the background? Maybe. But it's not until the point when most bars don't allow you in when you know it's just about time. Rail time that is. But only if you're completely drunk and sweaty and don't have a care in the world. You cant mind a bit that the Rail bathrooms always seem to have more water on their floors than most public pool bathrooms. And stench? What stench? So what if soggy pub mix lines the tables, it makes the pretzels all the more delicious if you ask me. Are there Lincoln style hookers in the back bar? Only if it's a good night. Are the bartenders drunker than some patrons? Only if they're the good ones. And are the same old Rail songs playing from the Dj booth. Well I sure hope so. Lazarris to follow? Of course, as long as I can have some ranch to sip on while I wait for my spicy chicken slice. Thanks drunk Lazarris boys for making the best greasy, probably un hygienically made, pizza ever! And I don't mean this sarcastically, I truly thank you.

But not for me this weekend, maybe not even until next fall. But that's okay, because, well to borrow a famous line, that's what I like about Lincoln, I get older, and it stays the same age.

Friday, April 8, 2011

I choose Friday.

Last night I made the mistake of watching a special on December 21, 2012. I knew I shouldn’t have, but just like when I was little and would love to freak myself out watching hours of Unsolved Mysteries and Rescue 911, I was glued to the TV. People are taking this event pretty serious. 2012 that is, not the cases from Unsolved Mysteries, although I do still wonder whatever happened to Mary the ghostly hitch hiker... Oh the days of reenactment television.

But 2012 is the main topic searched on Google right now. People all over the world are building underground forts and secret houses in the mountains in preparation for this day. I’m thinking I’d rather take my chances with 2012, do these people not watch TV? Um Tremors, hello?! The crazy snake creatures that live under ground that feed on the flesh of people. Or what about The Hills Have Eyes? Or even The Hills? I don't know which would be worse, living with the crazy inbreds or Lauren Conrad "You know what you did! You know what you did!"

But what I can't figure out, is what exactly the paranoid people from the 2012 special are hiding from. If the planet is going to face destruction because of something to do with the alignment of the sun wouldn’t that affect underground, as well? Or if the planet is going to face destruction because of earthquakes I certainly think that would affect the ground even more. I shouldn’t watch shows like this because they only leave me more confused. And who are these so called “Mayans” anyway? Why are we basing our future off of a calendar from hundreds of years ago? If these people were so smart why didn’t they leave behind more than just a calendar and a cool resort in Mexico?

On to more important things. Like the fact it’s Friday, Friday, Friday. Party’n, party’n yeah. Today I am so lucky as to get to spend a greater part of my day in Emporia, Kansas. Like all the other towns I get to visit, this one is just as awesome. I see more and more why Kansas is often referred to as God’s country... It's because all along the interstate there are signs that say "Choose God, Or Live in Eternal Regret!" "Choose His way, the Only way!" My favorites are the anti abortion ones, "When you have an abortion, something inside you dies." Yeah, we got that. "Choose life, your mom did." And for all we know mom might have chose a few aborts, as well. That's bad. But sometimes I think the pro life people, which may or may not be myself, should keep their condescending signs to themselves. Why don't we see more pro choice signs? "Choose for yourself, we don't give a damn." "Choose a puppy then decide."

But anyway, Chris and I are lucky enough to have friends coming to visit us here in God’s country this weekend. Good ol Aj Meecom and Katherine Rolfsmeyer are coming on a little vacay to Topeker. It’s sure to be a good time! The weather is gorgeous, the Masters are on TV, and I think there might be a little Westboro Picket we could take our visitors to. I’m just supposed to email Shirls for the deets. All I know is the second Kate walks in my door it will be cocktail time. So I'm really hoping she gets here soon. Because for now, I'm choosing Friday. Party'n party'n yeah.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Keeping up with the Phelps

Somewhere today in the midst of my back and forth email fight with Shirley Phelps (thee daughter of Fred Phelps)I couldn't help but think to myself how funny life is and the unpredictable turns it takes us on. I don't think I would have ever guessed in a million years that I would have found myself in an email argument thread with Mrs. Phelps, but there I was. Then again, it's not something I would put past me. Put me in a town with a powerful cult and I'm gonna do one of two things- 1. Join it or 2. Bring in down. Since this cult doesn't have the lure of delicious Kool-aid with it I think we all know my choice.

This whole debacle began earlier today on Twitter when I contacted Megan Phelps. So I'm right in the middle of tweeting back and forth with the heiress of the Westboro Church when all of the sudden my doorbell rang. This might not sound that strange, but when you know no one in your town, it's strange. I had just asked Megan if she would be willing to meet with me to answer a few of my questions about her church, so when not a minute later I heard my doorbell ring I mini freaked out. I know it seems far fetched, but I thought for a second it was Westboro at my door, it wouldn't be the strangest thing they've ever done. I was thinking, oh shit I'm obviously in way over my head with this if they've already somehow tracked where I live. Turns out it was just the air conditioning guy, or so he said? But anyway, Megan gave me the email address for the church's PIO, do you know what that means? I didn't either. After I googled "PIO" I found out it means Press and Information Office. Tell me again these people aren't fame whores. But the PIO turns out to be Shirley, Megan's "madre." These are Megan's words not mine, which I found to be kind of surprising, I thought it was only nice people who used fun Spanish words sprinkled through out their English. The other thing that caught my eye was Megan's use of emoticons. Everything was :) this and ;) that and a little :0, it was quite unexpected. How could someone who uses emoticons so frequently also be someone who brings hate signs to funerals? Seems so contradictory.

Anywho, I contacted Shirls. She wrote me back saying I could "email" my questions and they would respond accordingly. Yeah right, this aint my first cult interview. So I wrote back and told her I would like to meet face to face. Turns out Shirls doesn't like getting it thrown back in face. Yup, the little church who loves to talk shit gets pretty pissed when someone throws shit at them. And I mean this in a literal sense, as well. I read a couple of weeks ago that a brother to a fallen solider made a shit throwing gun to heave actual poop logs at Westboro when they came to protest his brother's funeral. Read that story and tell me God doesn't love Amurika. Back to subject though, Shirly wrote me back a not so kind message. What's that? You'd like to see an excerpt of it? Oh alright, just a little though.

"We are about the business of publishing the Word of God to a nation that is facing imminent destruction! We try to avoid turning aside to left or right for nonsense! If I thought you have some good motive, that’s one thing! Your email looks like scores before. If you are indeed in Topeka, WHY would you not just come to a picket and talk to people or come to church?"

That's just a little sneak peak, because no one wants to buy the Baptist if you give away the hate for free. What does one respond to that? Again, I'll show you just a tiny bit,

"I realize your purpose is to publish the word of God, all that I am trying to do is to simply meet and talk to a member of your church to hear this word for myself..."

And a few more blah, blah, blahs. So who comes out the victor? Let's just say this, I now have a personal invite from Shirls herself to attend service at Westboro on Sunday at noon,complete with a :) and everything. I kid you not. Am I proud of this? No. Gross. Well maybe a little, but for all the wrong reasons I promise. And no I'm not about to go! That place gives me the jeebies just thinking about it. But I do feel good about the progress I made today. Only more to come.

I'd just like to say a big thanks to all who purchased Facebook Girl, I really appreciate it. Now let's just hope Shirley doesn't get wind of this somehow, then I really think the interview would be off.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

My first official published book... ebook that is.

Well, I am proud to say that as of 12:15 a.m. this morning I became a published author of "Facebook Girl" - The girl we want to hate, but love to creep. It's officially available to the public now. You don't have to tell me what a big deal this is because I already know. And even though I had offers left and right from various literary agents and a plethora of publishing companies wanting rights to "Facebook Girl" I decided to just cut out the middle man and publish it myself online. Since it's my first book I figured I should just keep it on a smaller level to make sure I had full control of everything, it just made the most sense to me. So as of now it's only available as an ebook, but as soon as sales pick up I'll be shopping it around to various stores like Urban and Anthropology to see who gives me the best bid. And if I know old Zucky, and I think I do, as soon as he gets wind of this he'll decide he wants it again too, or at the very least sue me for using the name Facebook. Either option is fine with me.

As of right now, if my calculations are correct, I think I'm standing at about one copy sold (thanks Jade.) My mom is out of town today or it would definitely be two copies. But this is exactly how I expected it would start. All the best books start off a bit slow. I mean look at the Bible. It took how many rewrites to get that story correct? Exactly. But if you'd like to support me and have $2.99 to spare, I encourage you to go to Lulu.com and get yourself a copy. And if you don't, I encourage you to get a new job as $2.99 shouldn't be considered a deal breaker on the ol pocket book. And don't be confused when you notice my name is listed as Taylor Grace, I'm thinking that might be my pen name, but only because J.K. Rowling was already taken. All you have to do is click the little LuLu icon below and it will take you directly to the site:

Support independent publishing: Buy this e-book on Lulu.

But seriously, this isn't about the money to me (yet.) This is about me expressing my love for all profile pictures self taken, and all status updates that seem to make us all just a little dumber after reading. As I have recently learned, FbGirls can exit our life just as fast as they came into it. So it's important to hold onto every memory we can before it's too late. The Facebook world is ever evolving, so I like to think of this book as just a little piece of social networking history.


For as quick as I clicked "publish" on this first book I was already anxious to get started on number two. I dabbled for a moment with the idea of selling out by starting to write what I know really sells and could set my writing career in full force. And thats Sci Fi Romance. Vampires- saturated. Wizards- tired. Werewolves- too realistic. So what's left? Aliens. Two teen aliens from battling planets fall in love but must choose between their planet's safety or... Or a final rose. I sat down to write this epic love story but I had nothing. So like they always say, write what you know. Which brings me to idea #2: Sex, Drugs and Westboro Baptist Church- the church I definitely hate, but love to creep. It's a working title, but I'm pretty excited about this idea as it will require actual interviews with members of the cult. It's going to be a tell-all book based off facts, speculation, and a large part of my sarcastic opinion of this Satanic church.

So if you decide to have your own copy of "Facebook Girl" I thank you. And if you decide to click that link just so you can go to the site and chastise me I don't thank you, however I might do the same so I don't technically blame you either. Do whatever you must. For now, I'm choosing to bask in the glory of my first sold book.

Monday, April 4, 2011

And On the Seventh Day God Turned Water into Mimosas

Yes, it's true. I am officially a God Parent. And I am happy to report that everything went off without a hitch yesterday- for the most part. It got started a little err crappy when Knox pooped his pants during the service. But c'mon, I'd pry shit myself too if I knew an old man who is sworn to celibacy is about to pour water all over me while I'm dressed in a delicate white dress. But Jade took the shit out like a trooper and within no time he was ready to go. So when it was time to go to the front of the church Jordan and I followed Jade, Bill and Knox up. Jade insisted the God parents were supposed to stand in front holding the baby, because I mean this was supposed to be about the godparents and the godbaby right? The parents have already had their moment as far as God's concerned. So Jordan and I stood up like the proud godparents we were holding little Knox. But then the priest was giving us both kind of a funny look, I can only assume he knew me and Jordan were brother and sister and was entirely grossed out we had a child together and even more so were choosing to celebrate it in a religious ceremony. I eventually caught on and basically threw Knox at Jade and said we had it switched around.

After the incest debacle was solved and all of the promises to show Knox a healthy religious life were promised it was time for the holy water. But before the babies were drenched with water the priest dabbed a bit of oil on their tiny baby chests... At which point I started to wonder if the priest was giving baptisms or hot oil massages? I mean I know I joke about pedophilia... But oil? Really? Who am I to judge. A Catholic! That's who, need I say more?

Anyway, the first two kids in front of Knox screamed like the priest was pouring the fire of the devil on their foreheads. It was awful. I could see the fear in Knox's eyes, but there was no turning back as Jade dipped him back and the priest began to pour. And believe it or not Knox held it together and took the holy spirit upon his face like a real man (in a frilly white dress.) Why do I have a feeling that line has been used elsewhere in a completely different context...

And luckily for us, God turned water into Mimosas and Bloodys so we could celebrate after. It was a very nice Sunday, reminded me a lot of my baptism actually. Later in the day, when the celebrating was over and Knox was passed out from too many shots of breast milk Chris and I made the eight hour trek back to Peker and were home in time for service at Westboro. Yeah right! I did however, find the Westboro clan on Twitter!!! I spent a better part of my night reading all of their God hating tweets back and forth. If you are interested I suggest you search Megan Phelps, she is the granddaughter of Satan himself. So apparently, God does indeed hate Gaga, but Twitter is A O.K. with him. Good stuff to know. Maybe I could get Megan to follow this site. Man, what I wouldn't give to show up on the God Hate list, that's publicity you just can't buy these days.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Party'n Party'n Yeah. April Fools!

Well would you look at that. Friday made its way back into my life again. I was nervous it wouldn't come, on account of April Fools Day and all. But sure enough, it's here. I've already played one great joke today- on myself. I left my power chord at the school I was at this morning and now I get the joy of going back to go get it. I literally skipped out of out of the school singing "Friday Friday fun fun fun." And now I have to go back. Damn you Rebecca Black and your wonderfully distracting song.

So April Fools has traditionally been one of my favorite holidays. I remember diligently saving money in preparation for this day so I could go buy fake vomit, plastic poop, magic ink, you know just basic things 19 year olds like to buy. My jokes have been less than par this year. Harlow didn't even seem to notice when I put his food in his water bowl and water in his food bowl. And I haven't had the chance to get Chris yet. So I guess it's a bit hard to get real crazy with pranks when a large majority of your day is spent alone. Chris has already got me today though. First thing this morning he stared at me for a second while I was getting ready and said,

"Have you gained some weight?"

Yeah, it was hilarious. After I stopped crying I thought it was pretty funny too.

But I'm pretty excited, we're heading to Norfolk in a few hours for Knox's Baptism weekend. Jade's getting ice luges and baby strippers, she figured she might as well do it up big before Knox is washed clean of all his sins. It's gonna get real crazy. Like think Alaska State Troopers crazy. If anybody knows how to party it's those Eskimos, they just know how to have a good time. It seems like each episode they're trying to outdo eachother with who can get the drunkest and then pass out in the weirdest outdoor location. And the cops up there seem so nice. I've told Chris that when the time comes to move from Peker I would maybe consider Alaska. If that time ever comes... I thought about posting today "I get to move from Peker!" as an April Fools joke, but then I realized this would again be just another joke on me as it's not true. I did meet a friend yesterday at the dog park, Karen. She was a really nice lady, had five dogs with her. They were quite the crew, all muts. Karen looked a little bit like all of them, messy curly hair that looked like it hadn't been washed in a while.

Well it's just about time to get on the road and get my weekend started. Time to start party'n party'n yeah. Is it weird I love that song more with every Friday that comes? I finally gave in and bought it on itunes. Happy Friday, go nuts, because today is the one day you can get away with absolutely anything! Driving drunk? April fools! Bar fights? April fools! Beating up a cop? April fools!
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