Yesterday turned into a go-go-go kind of day and the time we weren't going, I was buzzed and not seeing quite straight so blogging wasn't even an option.

Upon rising yesterday morning, we found a Coach store and Angie bought that pair of sunglasses she'd been dreaming about for four whole days since she tried them on at MOA. It was only a couple of blocks from the hotel. How convenient!

After Nij dropped a couple of c-notes on her new sunnies, we headed for Seattle Center. Our first stop was the space needle, of course, so we paid our $17, took the 41-second elevator ride up, snapped some pictures and took the 41-second elevator ride back down. Almost twenty bucks for five minutes of enjoyment and I didn't even get one rubbed out for me. Rip off.

We were pretty darn hungry when we finished space needling, so we found a bar and grill - Sport Bar and Grill, to be precise - across the street from the needle. We watched Sesame Street right there at the table and drank fruity drinks (okay, mine was pretty much bourbon with lemon and limes in it, but the lemons and limes qualify it as a fruity drink) and geared up for the Science Fiction Museum, Experience Music Project and Duck Tour.

The SFM would probably really cool to people who are into that shit and the same goes for EMP. Nij and I did scratch some records and I learned how to play Wild Thing on the bass, so I guess it wasn't a complete waste of fifteen dollars. One day Angie will come back to Seattle with Nic and she will spend an entire day at EMP. I'm sure of it.

The viewing of exhibits made us both tired, so we rested our weary feet on the Duck Tour with Captain Hoowah. I had a crush on him too. I have a crush on everyone. I did mention me crush on Dan, the little Underground Tour guide, right? What's a girl gotta do to get a date with a tour guide/comedian in this town?

The DT was fun, though not as awesome as Boston's DT. Our guide sang and danced and clapped his hands a lot and waved at anyone and everyone. It was worth the $27 for sure. I mean, it lasted an hour and a half. Way more gratifying than the SN. I like to speak in acronym.

So once we wrapped up the DT, we were kinda sorta tired and hopped the monorail back to the shopping district, then walked back to the hotel. When we got back, we checked facebook (duh), prettied up and headed to the Regatta Bar here in the hotel for dinner and drinks. The food was pretty decent - I had cod and Nij had steelhead trout - but the lemon drops were FANTASTIC. Angie and I both had four and I finished my Regatta experience with a Stella. Each of us mysteriously had one drink missing from our bills and we are pretty sure it was a gift from some guys at the bar that couldn't stop staring at Angie and giving her the eyebrow. She was twirling her hair with her fingers, which apparently drives the boys crazy. They were so distracted by her rack, they didn't notice the ring on the twirling finger. Go figure.

Once we wrapped up in the bar, we headed back up 1660 for a photo shoot and to prepare to go out for the evening. We ended up going to Rock Bottom again and Sean, Kami, Niko and Nikki met us there at 9:30ish. The highlight may have been Kami and Sean's open discussion of Angie's boobs, or maybe KD telling SD, "Sean, order me a fucking diet cola." Ah, marriage.

We fully expected to be at least a little hungover this morning, but it turns out seven lemon drops, a beer, an amaretto sour, a cosmopolitan, a sexy bex and whatever the hell else I drank wasn't enough to get me drunk. I did spend a good six tries attempting to get into the men's bathroom though, until a dude showed up and I realized I was trying to get into the wrong bathroom and probably had the wrong code anyway.

We were up bright and early this morning and were on our way to Pike Market before 10. The market was pretty sweet but I'm not really the market kind of girl and I don't think Nij is either, so we didn't stay long. We did take a wrong turn on our way to The Fisherman's Restaurant and found ourselves in a very high-end pet store. Not an actual pet store, but a store with stuff FOR pets. It had hardwood floors and was as quiet as a library. I felt like we shouldn't even test the toys' squeakers. Nij, of course, ended up buying Maisy two toys, totaling $38. Ouch.

When we got ourselves turned around and headed in the right direction for our intended restaurant, we walked through the market again and I got a grape Italian soda and Angie decided she needed a quarter-pound kielbasa to hold her over until we reached our destination. About three bites in, we realized our destination was two blocks away.

Angie rode a carousel and we spent some time playing arcade games before we ate, probably mostly to get the damn sausage to settle in Nij's stomach and make room for more. It was gid fun though. We discovered skee-ball and played a great little game that involves hitting mice, but NOT cats, with a mallet. But really, who doesn't want to hit a cat with a mallet every now and again?

Lunch was nothing short of obnoxious. We had the crab feast, which consisted of clam chowder, a loaf of sourdough bread, a big bowl of salad, a bucket of mussels and clams, and the most crab I have ever seen on one table in my life. It seemed to take forever to eat and we were pretty sure the food would never stop, but somehow we made it all the way through with letting little go to waste. It will be a long time before either of us can eat seafood again.

After lunch, we HAD to head to North Face so Nij could get a jacket. "See that pink jacket? I already own it." Guess what. She didn't even buy that one. She found something better, and more expensive. Booyah!

The next stop was a trip back to Pioneer Square to further investigate Seattle's old downtown. In our meandering, we stumbled upon the Elliot Bay Book Company, which inspired the cafe/book store in Frasier. Holy carp (holla atcha seafood, Seattle!), this was the most beautiful shop I have ever entered. I don't even know how to put it into words, but I ended up walking out in a blissful haze with my wallet sixty-three dollars lighter. They have employees write reviews on books and that might be the most brilliant thing ever, because I felt like I needed to read every book that was reviewed. Way to pimp your goods, EBBC.

We eventually found our way back to the hotel to relax. Angie napped and I posted pictures on facebook and both of us felt sort of guilty because we probably should have been out exploring more, but vacations require some down time, damn it, and we wouldn't have had it any other way. When motivation struck, we got ready for dinner and headed to Elephant & Castle for some New York Strip Steak and shitty service. Now we're back at the hotel. In for the night on our last night by 7pm and, again, we didn't even care.

Our flight tomorrow leaves at 12:25pm. I am so not ready for this vacation to be over and I miss zero people and things about home, but Angie seems to think she needs to get back to her puppy and fiance. I should probably see what I can do tomorrow morning about picking up a tour guide to marry. I might never have to go back to Minnesota. The weather's better here anyway.

Well, I'm on vacation and since that's the only time I'm good about blogging, let's do this shit.

Our flight was supposed to leave at 9:30 last night, so Angie rolled into Minneapolis at about 5:30, we hung out, I finished packing, we playing some Mario Kart and at around 6:30 we headed for the light rail. Because we would just arrive a little early and slam some Chili's Too at the airport, right? Well, I mean, it's kind of right because that's what we did, but oh no, the flight got delayed until 11:00. I was ready to lay on the floor for some rest at 9:00 because that's my bedtime and my body was insisting on it, but I resisted, knowing I could sleep on the plane. Boarding the plane was a total mess because nwa now charges to check even a first piece of luggage and fliers were pretty set on carrying on as much luggage as possible. Soooo, Angie and I got into our seats and I was waiting, waiting, waiting to see how big the person next to me was going to be (because I'm a big person and with another big person next to me, it's generally bad news) and just as I was thinking I was going to have an open seat next to me, I saw a young man approaching from the corner of my eye. Now, I had been thinking I should maybe try to look cute for the airplane ride because people totally meet spouses on flights, but I decided against it, and as I saw this dude approaching, I avoided making eye contact and just thought, "Jesus, he's going to be cute and I smell like the inside of a cow's asshole."

Well, he was cute. And do you know why he was cute? Because he was Blake, the boy I had a crush on throughout college. What at the effin' odds? And he doesn't even LIVE in Minnesota. He lives in Honolulu and was just laying over in Minneapolis from his flight from Chicago and Seattle. He's adorable and nice and I wish I had smelled/looked better and was given the opportunity to mother his children.

Of course I wasn't able to sleep on the flight with the cute boy there. Seriously, who laughs out loud at Hotel for Dogs and hitch hikes from Duluth to Park Rapids? The boy might be perfect. Anyway, we got to the Crowne at around 2am Seattle time, whic his 4am Minneapolis time and boy were Nij and I tired.

We woke up this morning and Nij realized she had a ketchup stain on her capris, so we went to do some shopping at American Eagle, which is just a couple of blocks from here. We also hit up Banana Republic and H&M and, yup, turns out Seattle has some awesome shopping. After shopping, we stopped at Rock Bottom Brewery for lunch , because why wouldn't we have lunch at a chain restaurant that has a location in Minneapolis? Once we polished off lunch, we walked back to the hotel to drop off our AE purchases and for Angie to change into a dress and headed for the waterfront.

While waterfronting, I found a blingy Seattle shirt for Tuna, which was exciting because it spoke to me and clothing rarely speaks to me, and we wondered at what point Seattle was going to start smelling like a dryer sheet, as Amanda promised. Once we realized the waterfront wasn't as cool as Fisherman's Dwarf, we set off for Pioneer Square to check out the Underground Tour. The tour was pretty frickin' amazing and, although I still don't quiiiite get the system, I was impressed with not only the tour guides, but how raw and preserved the undergrounds are. Cool shit, Seattle. Keep it up.

After the tour, we headed to McCormick and Schmick's for dinner even though we weren't that hungry. Eighty-two dollars later, I'm quite certain I'll never be hungry again. Angie and I both had Copper River salmon, which apparently only runs two weeks a year and Angie's sockeye was better than my king, but I'm not complaining. I also had a lemon drop and a drink called southern smooth, which has Southern Comfort, Amaretto, lemon and orange juices. Honest to you, it is the best drink I have ever sampled in my twenty-five years of this beautiful existence.

It is now not even 8pm, but we are in for the night. We have been beaten down by too much food and too much hill. I had no idea Seattle was so hilly. On tomorrow's agenda is the Space Needle, the Duck tour, the Experience Music Project and the Dockerys. Saturday's the zoo.

I love vacation and all the things that are justified by it.

I continue to lose my shit at the most random times. They say it takes a year for the random shit-losing in relation to the death of a loved one to subside. That gives me seven months to the day. I break down because I remember, really, and I never, ever want to forget, so maybe that means I want to continue losing my shit indefinitely. Or maybe people gain better control of their emotions once acceptance kicks in. How’s that for a concept? I can’t stop looking at pictures of the old man and all the happy times. I wish we’d known then to treasure them more.

It sounds like we’ll be burying Fahj’s ashes next month. John is coming up for it. He’s doing sort of okay, I guess. He has tumors between his stomach and liver, but none on his organs. It’s been that way for a couple of months. He and Martine are going to drive up and stop to visit folks along the way. I’m headed up to Tower with Angie over Memorial Day weekend so we can go out with Mike and find a nice spot for Pa’s big sleep. It bothers me thinking about burying him. The hell if I know why; I guess it’s the finality.

Angie and I are headed to Seattle on the 27th - only 16 days now! We realized we couldn’t make it a year without our sisters’ trip so I’m paying her way until her wedding is paid off. I’d hate to have to travel alone.

Abby and I went up to Duluth, then Grand Superior Lodge a couple of weekends ago. The smoking room at the Holiday Inn in Duluth and the free room at GSL were like night and day. It was a super chill weekend, but a lot of fun. We went out in Duluth Friday night and Ryan, who we met on our last trip north, tried to make Abby his girlfriend, so that was entertaining. A bar patron also detailed the differences between acid and meth for me. And I made my very first trip to Betty’s Pies. It only took twenty-five years. And to think I call myself a northerner!

Sabine and I scored what seem to be front row tickets for the American Idol concert on September 1. Adam and Kris and Danny - oh my! I imagine it will be eighty-five smacks well spent. It’s time to really test that zoom lens Darren bought me.

Speaking of Darren, he broke off our friendship a couple of weeks ago. Needless to say I’m hardly crushed about it. How DARE I move on from our relationship? We’re only going on eight months since the breakup and all…

I bet it’s been long enough since I’ve updated that I didn’t mention the killer front-row/third-row tickets I got from USC for the NCAA basketball tournament. Abby, who is apparently my boyfriend, and I watched the KU/Dayton game and then USC/Michigan State. It was a lot of fun, even for a girl who doesn’t like basketball. Probably because my blind ass could actually see what was going on. Or maybe because we filled Diet Sunkist cans with Bud Light Lime for the walk over. One can’t be sure.

In other wonderful news, we lost the Bears for this year. Pardon my lack of team-player attitude. They were what kept me in the Cities over Thanksgiving weekend last year. You know, so I missed the final holiday my dad was alive for. I will not miss them and I most certainly will not miss staying at the hotel for an entire weekend.

Until next time… (which may as well be “until next year…”)

I broke my toe last week running from the bathroom to the living room when I realized I was missing the beginning of The Office. The middle toe on my right foot. How is it even possible to break a middle toe? I blame it on the post-work wine tasting. Anyone who thinks I’m going to taste and pour is out of their bloody mind.

Tonight brings another apartment party and it sounds like this is going to be a biggun. I’m going to be really embarrassed if I run out of beer again.

I’ve learned I really enjoy helping plan weddings when I don’t have to pay for any of it. By weddings, I really just mean Nij’s wedding. All the brides I have to deal with at work can suck it. Nij did decide to put us in strapless dresses, though, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

I gave up candy for Lent and I was doing really well until last weekend when Angie and I were waiting 40 minutes for a car wash and my spring rolls and sesame chicken finally wore off and I was STARVING and I found a Tootsie Pop in my hugesack and devoured it before I even realized it was candy. Sorry, God. I didn’t mean to, honestly.

I got my review at work and I got rated superior. What the hell? I was in my new position for two months in 2008, the review period. For the first month I wasn’t even doing my job and the second month I was mourning my dad’s death. But, hell, I’ll take it. I expected to get a stern talking to about my general bitchiness to my supervisor, but it turns out he loves it, so I’ll roll with it.

I wish I could tell my dad all this stuff. I couldn't care less about telling my mom.

And now, since I want to look back and laugh someday, quotes of the day from work:
AW: “Christ! They’re trying to give us Bibles.”
CL: “We want FRESH dead hookers.”
MW: “Bitch, this is an act of kindness.”
And, taking it way back, my favorite one-two punch:
NAK: “There are two prime selling times per day.”
MW: “Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.”

First I would like to point out I am typing this from the bathtub, where I am cozied up with that new $950 laptop I just had to drunkenly have. Are stupid things less stupid if I know they're stupid but do them anyway? Or does that make them more stupid?

I had a ridiculously wonderful weekend and, I'm not gonna lie, I felt sort of bad enjoying myself in Tower without Fahj there. I know he would want us to keep living life and keep laughing, but it still feels wrong. This is only the second time I've visited home since he died and I hardly cried at all. I think most of the joy can be attributed to Taylor, who elicits gut-busting laughter everywhere she goes. I always considered myself to have more of an ... adult ... humor, but this kid makes me laugh like no other. I've been telling everyone I want to give birth to an 18-month-old tomorrow. She's that awesome.

The weekend was pretty normal in most respects. I got Friday off since I worked the previous weekend and planned to take the express evening bus up on Thursday night and head to Tower with Nij early Friday morning. However, we got a touch of snow and Thursday night's express bus was canceled so I was forced into taking the 10:45am bus on Friday, which takes four hours and fifteen minutes to get to Duluth. Inmothafuckinsane. Say what you will about the Iron Range, blog, but four and a half inches of snow has never constituted a blizzard north of Hinckley.

When we got to Tower on Friday, I saved a bunch of Fahj's shirts from the donation garbage bags in Mom's room. No one is going to want sixteen techfest t-shirts and beat-to-shit flannels anyway, right? I think they look damn good hanging in my yellow closet.

It was a weekend filled with enough Wii Fit that Nij and I will probably not be right for three weeks, Taylor saying "yeah" and nodding in response to most every question asked, a deer antler lost behind Fahj's dresser (and the resulting eeb panic), Travis the neighbor visiting for hours because he's in love with me, frosting-covered chicken and broccoli (and the subsequent Stevie Wonder head swaying), Mama the squirrel, hot bologna and enough pumpkin cake to kill a common man. Thank God I'm neither common nor a man.

This weekend I also realized how empty my life would be without Nij. Honest to blog (get it? that's you), she is an extension of me and I don't know how I would be able to deal with Dad's death or life in general without her. I am thankful for how lucky I am to have her in my life and hope we never grow apart. A lot of people envy our closeness and, damn it, they should. I better fucking die before she does or we better fucking die together.

Today is my first Valentine's Day single in nine years. It's been a damn long time coming. I remember the last time Valentine's Day was on a Saturday, I was going to college and Darren came to visit and brought me orange slices and chocolate roses. Sigh. That was back when I liked him.

I no longer cry every day thinking about Dad. Most days, sure, and I think about him constantly, but I guess I must be hitting the acceptance stage. I probably said this in my last blog, but I am terrified of forgetting him. Anything about him. I don't even want to forget how awful I felt the first time I saw him after his surgery, with the bubble wrap around his chest and the tubes everywhere and the "NO CPR. CHEST OPEN." sign behind his bed. I don't want to forget that he was wearing socks and how that comforted me.

The last time I saw or talked to Fahj was the Sunday before he collapsed, when he met us in Duluth to do lunch and some Christmas shopping. Angie and I had babysat Taylor the day before and it was such a fun weekend. We ate with Fahj at Blackwoods in Proctor and he had a salmon sandwich (he'd wished he'd gotten a burger instead), we shopped for eighteen hours at Barnes & Noble for Buddy and Katie's Christmas gift, we went to Home Depot, where Fahj crop-dusted the aisles, trying to cover up his gas with throat-clearing noises. It was snowing hard when Dad dropped us off at Angie's house and he said he wasn't going to come in. I looked back at him, sad I wasn't going to get a hug, as I got out of the truck. I had a bad feeling something might happen, either to him or to me.

I can't help but wonder if people feel differently before they die, like they know it's coming. The day Dad died, Mom asked him how his stomach felt and he said, "Fine, how's yours?" I think he knew something was going on.

It amazes me how frequently I think about the old man. The only time he's not on my mind is when I'm busy at work. I've been working 60-hour weeks consistently and spending the weekends with Angie, which always helps. Speaking of Nij, reading her blog makes me cry more than anything. I'm alone this weekend and that scares me.

In other horseshit news, Nic's grandma died unexpectedly last week. It's been a bad run.

This is disjointed and I don't even care.

So this is 2009, huh? Here’s hoping it’s better than 2008 but, really, there’s not much a of a chance it could get worse.

Fahj –THE Fahj – collapsed at work on December 10, was determined to have had an aortic aneurysm and was declared braindead at St Mary’s in Duluth two days later. I’m going to follow the “there are no words” line someone told me at the funeral as she hugged me (I have no idea who she was. I had no idea who so many people at the funeral were.), but my heart, my life, my family, the world will never be the same. I never knew I’d be able to live without Dad but it’s remarkable how time keeps marching on and life does its best to get back to the new standard of normal. I don’t like the new normal. I want the old normal. If the roads hadn’t been bad enough to take the chopper, he might have had a chance, but he would still be in the hospital now.

There are so many reasons it isn’t fair. He was too young, he was too healthy, he meant too much to too many people.

What happened to “there are no words”, right?

I’ve been back at work for three days and I feel like I never left. Ironically, after 24 hours in the hospital with dad, I forgot I even had a job outside of praying for him to get better. Speaking of which, Dad, mass four times in two weeks! Be proud! Tell Gram!

It’s insane I don’t have more going on considering the past three weeks have been the most exhausting of my life. I wouldn’t recommend anyone let their dad die. And, if you do let him die, let it be from hugging him too hard, too frequently.