Back in the hood

The weekend started out interesting enough….. with a drug bust! I was waiting on the street for Farrell to arrive when I caught a scuffle out of the corner of my eye. Two large guys had pinned three small men against the wall. After they took out cuffs and started patting the suspects down did the situation sink in (the two big guys were undercover cops). All of the sudden, on of the suspects took off running. The cop yelled freeze and bolted after him. The cop managed to grab the guy’s jacket, but the little sucker slipped right out of it and kept running. The little guy dove over the hood of a car, dogged traffic and sprinted down the street. A half block down, the cop gave up because the sucker was fast (and probably cold since it was 10 degrees out and he was sans coat). I looked around and was like “am I the only one who saw that? That was awesome!” Actually I am quite used to seeing police busts since my old Chicago neighborhood is no peach.

Later that night, Farrell and I met up with Bree, Bethany, and Captain Ali. I wish I had my camera with me to capture Ali’s outfit. It was a ribbed turtle neck with a double breasted navy blazer with gold buttons. A little captain hat and a pair of Dockers would solidify the “I’m yachting” look. Evidently he bought the coat off of a homeless guy for a dollar. I can see the mastercard ad….coat from homeless man - $1, hearing about him freezing to death on the streets – priceless. After cheap drinks at Bethany’s bar, the gang headed down to a SoHo bar to meet up with Josh and his brother. One horrible thing about trendy bars is the line. Okay it is ten below outside, yet we are forced to stand in a line. I threw image out the window and pulled on my big hat and scarf. Actually I wrapped my scarf (that someone said looked like a dishtowel) around my face to only expose my eyes. A warning, I get cranky when I am in a pointless line when it is freezing outside. That being said there were two girls in front of us in line who kept telling me they liked my scarf. I took it as mocking, and was sharp with them spitting out remarks like “well it is keeping me warm” to let them know I didn’t care. Turns out they really did like it, but oh well I have enough friends so they can shove off.

Saturday morning came quickly. Luckily I had four girlfriends visiting from Chicago. They have the sweetest hotel room. I guess it is old apartments (3-bedroom with kitchen and bath) that go for less than $200 a night. Great deal! Luckily, it was also near Times Square, so I just walked a few blocks down to meet up with them. We started the night with Cuban food in the St. Mark’s neighborhood. Later we headed over to Blue & Glory, McSorelys (the oldest Irish bar in Manhattan, the one with only light or dark beer), and St. Mark’s taproom all in the St. Mark’s hood. The taproom was full of Scotsmen! Seriously, there were groups of them just standing around. I had to take a picture of them because how do you match plaid on plaid? I guess it was national Scotsmen day….seriously like a holiday or event.

Later we headed over to the Village Pour House with big expectations to hit two other bars before last call. Of all the people to want to party all night, I would never have pegged Cindy. By 3am, her friends were ready to go (it takes a while to get used to the 4am bar thing). I think she was putting the moves on Josh’s brother, so she was really reluctant to leave. Finally, the turned on the lights at 4am and we all had to leave. I think she had a good time, but sadly she left with the girls and not the boy. Till next week.

Oh and the celebrity spotting of the week was Ali running into Kate Winslet at the Barnes & Noble. I sure hope he was still wearing the captain jacket.

Just like alpha-z's, we are spreading disease

Okay the non-greek out there will probably be a bit befuddled with the title. Actually, only sorority girls from KSU will get the joke. Every sorority house had a certain stereotype (well besides being rich bitches) and our house (nick named the nun house because 1. we held a weekly bible study and 2. we stayed in a convent back in the 1950’s when the house burnt down or was under renovation….whatever…was I really in a sorority…ahhh the mistakes of adolescence) made up a song dissing all of the other houses (yes we are all bitches, catty catty evil bitches). One line said “no we are not Alpha-Z’s as anyone can see, because we don’t poof our hair and we don’t spread disease”. Quite catchy and I wish I remembered more of the slanderous song. Anyway, I have gone on way too long about an offshoot. The theme is spreading disease, and what a better way to do it than with a BEER BONG. Not just any beer bong, but one made out of a skull and spine! I met Ali and his friend (Max?) out at Doc Holidays Saturday night. The bar was packed, granted it was 2am on a Saturday night, but still the bar is usually not wall-to-wall people crowded. Anyway, the two large packs were a bunch of suits (seriously who wears suits on a Saturday night, and did they realize they were at Doc’s?) and a bunch of preppy guys. Turns out the preppy guys all were Princeton alumni getting wild in the city. They knew about the novelty beer bong Doc’s had and proceeded to abuse the hell out of their livers. Now I could make jokes about the nozzle getting more throat/mouth action than a 12 year old Thai girl….wait, oops. Anyway, after many many many go rounds the preppy boys were thoroughly smashed (see exhibit 1 – guy in green shirt next to Ali). Now maybe it was the hour long session with the hooka, but Ali suddenly thought it would be a good idea to taste the rainbow. Actually, it was late and both of us wanted to get home to our respective better/worse halves, and it seemed like a reasonable way to finish off your beer. It is a pity that Ali had to hold his own beer bong because the preppy boys were too drunk and I needed both hands to take the pictures. Ah ha ha ha….how old are we?

First Snow

Here are pictures of our first snow in NYC. Granted there was a weekend in January that had 70 degree weather, but winter has finally arrived. If you cannot tell from the pictures, the snowflakes were giant fluffy ones....full of pollution.

Tis the season...weddings and chair violations

I made a quick trip back to Chi-town this past weekend to celebrate the marriage of my two friends Mike and Jenn. I arrived just in time to meet the gang out after the rehearsal dinner. Ryan got “wine drunk” which meant he would tell stories at full volume. Now those who know Ryan know he is a habitual line crosser….but we love him for it. Sadly there was only mild line toe touching with the children present.

The next day I was greeted with the Chelsea soccer/football game. Sadly there were lots of hard soccer bodies, but no one had the urge to fling off their uniform. Hmmm maybe next game. Even though I had all morning to get ready for the afternoon wedding, I still managed to be slightly late. Maria and I cabbed it over to the hotel (wedding location) and kept telling the cabbie to step on it with encouraging words like “wedding” and “ten minutes”, etc. We entered the hotel at a dead sprint. Thankfully weddings never start on time and we were able to sit down and catch our breath before the ceremony started. Although we had been at the wedding all of 2 minutes, Maria was able to give an outstanding first impression. We hung up our coats and she arranged her shawl to hide certain dress ailments. Note the dress was gorgeous but it had exposure tendencies. After the adjustments, she asked “so do I look like an old lady?” right in front of the grandparents. Of course they heard us and said some retort but I was too busy getting the heck out of there.

The ceremony was touching with some very tear jerking vows. Come on people, if you are going to write emotional vows, then at least provide some Kleenexes. Just kidding. After the wedding, we enjoyed the cocktail hour. Now “enjoyed” is a code word for drinkity drink drink. The combination of an open stocked bar and waiters with champagne caused us to double fist at one point. Classy to the max! Oh what a foreshadowing to the remainder of the evening.


Mike (aka the groom) is born and raised Chicago Bears fan. Jenn cheers for the Green Bay Packers. Somehow, she got a picture of him at Lambo field and then turned it into their holiday card. Since then he has gotten relentless teasing from the gang (also Bears fans). Ah ha ha, we are pure evil. Anyway, they took their professional football team rivalry and spinned it into a very clever way to seat their guests. People were assigned to tables named after famous Bears or Packers players/coaches. The rowdy gang and I were at the Gale Sayers table. So Jenn and Mike must have warned the wait staff in advance about “Smith’s friends” because our table was the only one sans champagne. After the toasts (fyi, Dan yours rocked but the old people were scratching their heads) we had only empty glasses to clink. Being left out on the champagne, our table vowed to show the true power of young alcoholics.

Prior to dinner, there was a picture slide show which could have been better titled “enough material to continue teasing Smith for the rest of his life”. Now a days, he keeps his hair quite short (between a buzz cut and completely shaved). I wonder if this is because he has bright orange hair! Yep, he is a ginger kid (and therefore evil according to south park). He hung his head as pictures of him as a child (and then later a Z-cavaricci wearing punk kid) sporting his orange mop flashed on the screen.

Fast forward to many many many more drinks and lots of music. Sadly during my “dark period” of the night (hush, it takes talent to drink your self into blackouts) they played the infamous “Bombs over Bagdad” song. Now this song is notorious to the group, and the boys go ape shit over it. Dan R. slyly drug out two chairs to the dance floor and just as quietly snuck away to get a better look at the action. Bill and Big Mike grabbed the chairs and proceeded to do their hump like a dog ritual on them. Don’t try to understand, just enjoy it. I heard random lawyers (more about them later) asking each other “why are they humping the chairs?” Bill admitted at one point during the song he didn’t know why he was humping but couldn’t stop/resist because the song is hypnotic.

The next morning, a group reconvened at Big Mike’s, Bill’s, and Dan M.’s apartment to watch the Bears playoff game. Most of the afternoon was spent filling in each other’s holes. Wait that sounded kinky, I meant memory holes you perverts. While there, they were brainstorming group costume ideas for the upcoming Chi-ditarod. The Iditarod is a famous dog-sled race held in Alaska. Well the Chi-ditarod is an event held in Wicker Park. You get teams together with a theme and a grocery cart (the sled) and then travel to the various Wicker Park bars to collect food (oh and drink…come on, you know my friends would not do it unless it involved consuming alcohol). The first idea was star wars and turning the cart into a speeder or a tom-tom (good thought, just a lot of chicken wire and paper mache…oh and motivation is needed). Later they suggested “dick in a box” based on the SNL sketch. Someone (not naming names to protect the pathetic) actually has a 6-foot inflatable penis that they can stick in the cart. Emily (who would be riding in the cart) could then periodically open the lid and stick out the dick. Ah ha ha ha.

The evening was capped off with me being delayed at the airport….again. Thankfully Maria was also delayed at the airport and we were able to kill time together. Till next time, peace out!

The boys (L-R): Rick, Ryan, Bill, Big Mike



More boys (L-R): Jose, Jensen, Dan M.




Newly Engaged Jenn and Adam

Dan M. and Newlyweds Kons & Katie

Jensen & Tracy

The happy couple - Mike and Jenn

The Lawyers (L-R): Maria, Emily, some one, some one else

Poor Maria (Rick's girl) doesn't realzie the craziness behind her.

Dan and some Brit guy

Katie, Melissa, and Me

Bill and Me

The vertical spoon with Big Mike and Ryan

Bill and Melissa

Rick and Maria (yes this is how drunk Rick dancing looks)

Why girls dress skanky.

Okay I have figured out the question to why girls dress like a skank. On Friday, the group went to a SoHo club because Ali's college friend was promoting something. It was fun to pass the velvet ropes and be escorted into the VIP area. Watching the crowd (and I mean crowd since the place was beyond packed) I realized that most of the girls were dressed like whores! Seriously. They even had go-go dancers in little more than underwear (I mean the underwear that is closer to a thong than briefs). I saw one group of guys take a picture with the go-go girl's butt! Seriously, she just plopped it down on the guy's shoulder and then click. I wonder if she cracked a smile (okay bad joke). Sadly I did not get any pictures of the girls because they were getting enough attention from our guys anyway. After an hour at the place, I suddenly realized why girls were so little dressed. It was over 100 degrees with 99% humidity! Yep, cram together a couple hundred people, loud music, stiff drinks, and you get massive heat overload. Bethany and I kept shedding layers until anything else would be indecent. With the raging house music, I distinctly heard a bongo undertone. All of a sudden, someone said, "Do you hear that bongo drum? That sounds so real. Wait there is a bongo player here!" Yep there was some rasta guy with a bongo strapped to his waist playing along to every song. Odd but at least it made the club somewhat interesting. We ended up leaving the sauna (in lieu for the favorite east village dive bar Doc Holidays) shortly thereafter.

Adventures in Babysitting...NYE style

My current work contract length will put me in New York city for two New Year’s Eves. However, my older sister is getting married on New Years next year, so this year (welcoming in 2007) may be my only one. Allison’s friend (now my friend) Kristen arrived from Rhode Island around noon on Sunday. Allison, Kristen, and I headed out for some shopping and sightseeing before stopping back to my place to get ready for the evening. Our last stop was Rockefeller center/Radio city music hall. We were at 50th and 6th Ave. and I live at 45th and 8th Ave. Well police were blocking off the streets around Times square (45th and 7th Ave.) but we figured we would be able to bypass the commotion being 5 blocks above. Nope! The streets up north were all blocked off. I told the police officers that I lived at 45th and just wanted to cross 7th Ave. in order to get to my place (basically didn’t want anything to do with times square). They told me to try the next street up. Well the next street up, I explained the situation again. This time the cop asked to see my drivers’ license to verify my address. Since I just moved to NY three months ago and I don’t drive, I haven’t updated my license. He then asked for a bill or a piece of mail (like I carry one around). All I could offer him was my house keys to which he just laughed at. Sucks for me! The three of us kept trying street after street giving the same explanation at each intersection. At one point I thought we would need to walk all the way up to the park in order to get across 7th Ave. Finally at 56th street, I again told my sob story to the cop (we are tired from walking around, hungry, cold, and just want to get back to my apartment). He said “45th, what the heck are you doing way up here?” Thankfully he escorted us (he he he police escort) to 8th Ave. Althought we were on my street, it was no peach walking down it. The sidewalks were wall-to-wall people in various stages of drunk, B.O. smelling, horn blowing (both the mouth horn and boat horn….die people die) thus making it almost impassible.

After an 11 block detour and 90 minutes later, we finally arrived at my apartment. Thankfully, Allison and Kristen let me play fashion show and they assisted me in picking out a New Year’s outfit (consisting of a fun blue top, black skirt, fishnet hose, and 4 inch heels). We hopped on the subway and headed up to the upper west side for Jody’s (friend of Vivienne’s) new years eve party. Now this girl was really excited to throw a party because she bought a case of champaign, eight bottles of wine, and other various bottles of hard liquor. In addition to her stock, everyone showed up with a bottle or two. Now for a NYE party, this seems like a good amount of liquor….if the party consisted of more than 12 people! Well maybe 15 at its highpoint. I got cornered talking with some creepy Asian guy where as I pawned him off on Kristen while refilling our glasses (sorry girl). When Marshall finally showed up 30 minutes late (note to self, must always expect Marshall to be late), I gave him a big hug to send a huge back off signal to the Asian dude. He evidently chugged a pint of Jim Bean and coke in the cab ride over (note to self, never let Marshall chug a pint of Jim Bean again). When he poured his first drink of 7&7, Vivienne commented on his drink mixing ability (basically all whisky with a splash of soda).

Around 11pm, we left the lame (sorry but it was) party and traveled to the upper east side Blondie’s bar to meet up with the gang (Ali, Brean, Farrell, Bethany). Immediately upon walking in, Bethany handed us all drinks. We watched the ball drop on the television. Now during the days leading up to NYE, I was thinking about checking out the times square thing just because this may be my only NYE in New York. I say this because my work contract (and the main reason I am here) is long enough to enjoy two NYE in NY but next year’s NYE I will be in Jamaica attending my older sister’s wedding. After fighting the crowds to get back to my place, I figured times square could just go to hell. People were getting there before 6pm and I think they closed it all off (in wise) by 8pm. Okay people, I bet you have been drinking and there are no restrooms in times square…so what do you do? I heard horror stories afterwards of people peeing on the ground or in plastic soda bottles. Yes that is how I want to spend my NYE, packed in a huge smelly, loud, drunk crowd while some guy pees on my shoe….um pass!

Okay back to the bar party. The turning point of the night (turning point meaning when I realized my friends were wasted) was when Kristen fell off a bar stool. One minute she was sitting there next to me, and the next she was flat on her but on the ground. Ali and Marshall started bumping and grinding on each other (maybe 70/30 straight/gay…hmmm). Meanwhile, the girls were going picture crazy (looooove drunk pictures). Around 1am, Kristen and Allison were tired (and wasted sleepy drunk). I grabbed Allison’s hand and wrote the address of my apartment as well as directions to tell the cabbie in order to avoid the mass traffic chaos surrounding times square. We hailed a cab, and I saw them off. Sad that Kristen (the bar stool faller) was the more sober of the two. Evidently, Allison said she didn’t feel well and puked in the car and got a fat lip trying to roll down the window and puke out the cab. The cabbie stopped them short of the destination (don’t know how far away) and shoved them out. Kristen gave him a fat “sorry she puked in your cab” tip. Ah ha ha ha. In the morning, they realized that they both had left their cameras at the bar. In addition, Allison had grabbed the wrong coat on her way out. Actually it is quite funny because she grabbed Ali’s coat which is short, black, and a man’s coat where as Allison’s is long, gray, blue scarf, oh and a girl’s coat. He he he. Her misfortune does not end there. She had puked all over one sleeve it. No worries, I had it cleaned and swapped it with Ali (who in turn took her coat home since it was the only one left at the end of the night) a few days later.

While these girls were having their little adventure, I was back at the bar babysitting the boyfriend. The giant quantities of whiskey had reduced him to slumped up against the wall with his chin down and eyes closed. I have come to know that pose (the drunker he is, the lower the chin goes). Time to leave. The treacherous thing was that the bar party was at the top of some very steep and deadly looking stairs. Now I have the task to get this guy who cannot walk and out weighs me by 50 lbs down the stairs while I am in 4 inch heels! After 10 or so glasses of wine, I sobered up real quick! He refused my help or my urgings to hold on to the hand rail, so I had to trick him. I grabbed the back of his jacket with one hand and clutched the railing with the other. I then took it one small step at a time. He didn’t realize I was holding on and even asked why it was taking ME so long! I lied and said, “oh honey, I am wearing heels so I have to walk real slow”. Whatever.

We got outside were I propped him up against the wall. I then went back in to say my goodbyes. When I returned, he was a hair away from passing out (standing up). Ali and Brean gave their goodbye hugs (where as Marshall tried to kiss Ali….70/30 I am telling you). I pulled the boy off the wall so we could try to get a cab. He took two steps and then collapse on the ground. While down there, he shouted to me (with a very surprised and shocked face) “you pushed me!” What!!! That is when I roughly pulled him up back on his feet while planning ways to inflict pain to his genitals. I tossed him into the back of a cab and we took off. You know when kids are trying to act all stealth but it just comes out obvious and humorous, well that is how Marshall was acting. He wanted to grab my chest, so he would stare at it and slowly reach his far arm around and zone in on it. I’m sitting there watching him (trying not to laugh) and just when he would get close I would say (in my best Mom tone) “Marshall!” He would grin and look sheepish (like I didn’t see it coming) before trying it again 30 seconds later. The cab dropped us off a block from his apartment. He was stumbling around shouting “where are we, you got us lost, we are so lost right now”. Idiot! We popped into the all night grab and go diner to satisfy a massive food craving. I again propped him up on the wall and ordered. Again picture the look a child gives you when they get caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Well as I was down the counter paying, I look up to see him with one foot out the door. I shout (again in my best Mom tone) “Marshall!” and he gives me this “uh-oh, I got caught sneaking out” surprised look. It was really hard not to laugh at him because I should be really pissed. I grabbed the food and we headed back to his apartment. He seriously could not walk, so I again tried to help him (to which he refused). I had to finally use the line “put your arm around your girlfriend like a good boy should”. When he did, I latched on to the arm and drug him back. People on the street were saying “whoa, they must have had a good time” since he was walking all over the place and I was trying to overcorrect for it. Did I mention I was in 4 inch heels? Anyway, I have officially (in my mind) settled the score for the night at Butter.





Happy New Year’s everyone! ....hurrah for ads, they put it all in perspective.

I'd like to order a round with the waitress

After the wild time the previous day, Allison and I decided to take it easy and do tourist things. Viviane, Allison, and I visited the New York Public Library. Now this is not your ordinary library, it is grand halls and frescos. Yes I am a dork, but the library was quite beautiful. Here is a picture of Allison and I so she could finally make the blog. I tell you, that is starting to become a hot item. Maybe I should start taking bribes (you know, you want to be featured in the blog…well I could use $20). No actually you only need to do something really nice or really stupid to make it in.

Afterwards we headed up 5th avenue to look at the holiday window displays and look at the Rockefeller Center tree.

Later that night I found a babysitter for Allison (code for keeping her busy while I sneak off) in the form of a play. Her, Viviane, and Jody got cheap balcony seats that you supposedly needed to lean forward in order to see the stage. Anyway, I used the free time to welcome Marshall back to town. Okay boys, some of you really suck at planning dates. Ultimate Fighting championship…..come on here! Yep, watching two guys punch and kick each other to a bloody pulp was his idea of a romantic evening together (even though we had not seen each other for almost two weeks).

After an hour or two of knockouts and bloody faces (I'm talking about the fights and not a wild makeout session), I was more than happy to excuse myself to meet up with Viviane and Allison at a bar. Okay my tip for the day is do not go to O’Flatterys on 46th street! They have the worst service ever! As soon as I found them in the back, I walked off to the bar to get a drink (not knowing we had a waitress). Viviane was being indecisive because she is not a huge beer drinker and the small selection of brews did not look appealing to her. The waitress kept suggesting bud light and micalob ultra. Huh? What kind of waitress suggests domestic light beer where there are house brews to serve? Anyway, I guess the waitress thought we were a waste of her time because she started ignoring us. Viviane tried to get her attention because she was ready to order, and the girl flat out snubbed us. Finally Viviane just went to the bar to order only to have the bartender snap at her and say “you need to order from the waitress”. Shocked, Viviane told him that she was ignoring us and that is why she was at the bar. He called the waitress over and Viviane finally placed her order (as well as me). When the waitress came back with our beers, the price of my beer had risen $1. Huh? I politely (because Viviane was going to deck her) asked the waitress why my house honey brew was $5 at the bar and $6 with her? She hotly replied “well you will just have to ask the bartender, I don’t set the prices”. She then added “well $6 is not a lot for a beer in New York City, I mean if you go to Friday’s….”. I cut her off and said “first off, you would never go to Friday’s, and second I know a half dozen bars in a two block radius from here where you can get a brew (not domestic) under $6”. She was taken aback and half-heartily apologized for the “Friday’s” comment since she was so used to dealing with TOURISTS (said in really sarcastic hating tone). Viviane almost lost it and started talking in a heavy Florida accent, “hey lady I guess you don’t like tooooourisssssts”. I seriously thought we were going to be kicked out of the bar (hey the weekend already started with a bang, why not).

Puke, Porn, and Puppets

Ahhh, first full day back in New York City after a vacation, and what a day it was. My friend Alison was in town visiting along with her friend Viviane from Florida. After her sleeping in and me putting in a half day at work, we met up at the Irish Rouge pub for lunch and cocktails. Allison and I tried out the Long Island ice teas before switching to martinis which were on special for $4. Well a couple of cocktails turned into several. I think I only had three drinks (because I was talking the most and therefore could not drink as fast) but Allison put away two ice teas and five martinis while Viviane had at least four martinis. We headed back to my nearby apartment to freshen up before heading out again. Allison rushed to the restroom and threw up in my toilet. Viviane kept telling her she smelled like puke so Allison chugged two wine coolers I had around (see previous blog entry). Allison mentioned that all of her friends looked alike (Rachel, Kristen, and me). We dug out some pictures of Rachel and I together, and Allison started getting emotional because she could not tell us apart. Okay I admit, Rachel is my almost identical twin. When we first met at new years last year, I was like "you look like me" and she said the same, etc. Anyway, it was funny to see Allison freak out and shout "is this Rachel or is this you! I cannot tell!".

As if the afternoon didn’t already have enough entertainment, the three of us headed over to the Museum of Sex. Now this was the highlight of the day (well at least for Allison and me). Imagine being buzzed and then watching porn for three hours. I’m sure the other museum goers were like “they reek of booze and they are not reading the exhibit material at all”. They had lots of 1930’s silent film porn that was shot in black and white and with dialog cards (think seriously old movies). It was awesome! Allison and I decided they could have a very profitable side business if they had guy & girl hookers at the museum exit.

Yes the story continues. After being ushered out of the museum (closing time), Allison and I went to the Broadway musical “Avenue Q”. I had heard rave reviews from all my friends and boy did it not disappoint. The songs pointed out common thoughts that are usually not openly expressed because they make us look selfish or shameful. For example some songs were “it sucks to be me”, “everyone is a little bit racist”, “the internet is for porn”, and “I take joy in other people’s misery”. Ah ha ha, so true. Anyway the puppet sex looked quite real. My personal favorite characters were the bad idea bears. For those who have seen this play, please forgive me for now saying “YEAH!” all the time.

After the play, we met Farrell and Brean out for drinks. Allison had learned her lesson and quietly drank water all night. Around midnight, she told me she didn’t feel well and was going to head back to my place early. I was only ten minutes behind her (I had to finish my drink), but I missed out on a very funny sight. I guess she was walking and suddenly had an urge to puke (again) even though she only was drinking water. She saw a potted plant on the sidewalk and decided that was her best out. I am so impressed because she didn’t even break stride when she leaned down and yaked in to the plant before taking off again.

Here are some pictures while walking around town. I admit I was tipsy at the time so excuse the blurriness.