stories from memorial day weekend 1

My mom came and visited me this past weekend.
It was wonderful.

I love my mom. She is so funny. She mummbles a lot.

We went to Yellowstone and Teton National Park.

Did you know Teton means tits in French.

I bet you did.

Throughout this week, I thought I would write about some of the things that happend during this weekend. There were many.


Mom arrived in town around 4:30ish on Friday. I took her on a brief tour of the town then we decided to go out to dinner. We went to a local favorite, Sanfords. They have dollar beers. The bad thing about having a favorite restaurant in a small town is that the waiters know who you are. My mom was shocked that the waiter knew what I was going to drink and eat. It made it easy for me though. We enjoyed a pleasant dinner and ran into some of my friends. Then we made our way over to the local hookah bar. Mom wanted to try some out.

My friends and I go there a bunch too.

The people know me there.

Mom was shocked, again.

Oh, and I have many pictures of mom smokin da hookah. But I won't put them up.

Because she told me not to.

Sorry.


Here is a sneak preview of the stories to come:


  1. Attack of the Bison

  2. Transformer

  3. Bears that are impossible to find

  4. Attack of the Bison part deux

  5. Snake River Float

  6. Climbing the Tetons

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

New Year, Better Andrea

My name is Andrea and I am a struggling 32 (nearly 33) year old woman. I am not married, have no children, no pets, and no real responsibilities. Yet, I cannot for the life of me, get my act together. I have a decent job that barely covers my bills. I have an apartment downtown that I love, but struggle to keep clean. I eat whatever I want whenever I want, even though my body is begging me to stop. I never exercise.  I drink alcohol nearly every weekend, to excess. I am a statistic. I am like every other wandering millennial.  I want to do better, I want to be a better and more healthy version of myself. I'm not publishing this stuff. I'm not expecting anyone to ever read this actually. I just want to write it down and declare it to myself. ANDREA... BE BETTER. I want to give myself little goals. Not goals for the future, but goals for right now. So that I can see in a week, a month, or a year from now that I was able to be better. My goals for this week: Actually
Read more

Valentine's Day....because, February

I have really uninteresting opinions about this specific holiday. I like it and hate it all at once. It's very confusing. Valentine's Day pros: Chocolate everything. I'm not a huge chocolate person, but if you want to feed me chocolate covered raisins/peanut butter/strawberries/bread, I probably will put it in my mouth. It's on a Wednesday this year. Hump day. Beautiful. I get to buy cheesy valentines for my friends and family. It's not like I can find WWE related stationary at Walgreens all year round. I have to take advantage while I can.  Gives you a reason to get a skanky hotel room with a hot tub in it. Never did that, but it sounds awesome.  I like making a big deal about dumb stuff...especially if it gives me a reason to drink prosecco with frozen berries in it.  Valentine's Day cons: For some reason, I am convinced I will receive an enormous edible arrangement. This has yet to happen. I'm not sure I even want it to, but there you go.
Read more

an uncomfortable clothing choice

Image
For some unknown reason, Jorts have been the topic of many conversations lately. Jorts = Jean shorts. [GUEST NOTE: "Jorts” – a combination of the words “jean” and “shorts” – are used to describe the somewhat hideous attire often sported by NASCAR aficionados, Green Bay Packer fans, men over 40, and men who probably ought to be over 40. If you wear jorts, you probably have minimal relationships with women. Sometimes jorts are accessorized with a lovely cellphone belt clip and a braided leather belt, but not always, as sometimes the jorts-wearer lets the jorts speak for themselves.] I think it's because of the White Trash Birthday Bash that I recently had. Not saying that only 'white trash' wear jorts . . . just a lot of people that attended the party had them on. [GUEST NOTE: I can count the number of acquaintances I know whom habitually wear jean shorts on one finger. Although, I’m fairly certain this summer will bring more to light. HINT: Missouri.] I don'
Read more