Crafty Like a Fox

First off, we are almost a week away from surgery.  Holy cow, how did the time pass so quickly from this to being a week away from surgery?  It feels like April was 30 years ago, but in a surreal, it-only-happened-yesterday kind of way.  I had planned to do a little party for myself when I was trying to get the surgery done in April, so I decided to go full-steam ahead into the idea a second time.

I happen to be of the opinion that something doesn't really happen unless you do something to document said event.  Which is why I will go to my grave never having "seen" Muse in concert because we have no photographic evidence that we drove all the way to Denver to see them, apart from one photo Thad took of me drinking a michelada at the Mile High Flea Market at 10 in the morning.  But damn, that thing was good, it had a spicy salt on the rim that made the world an alright place to be in.  But I digress.

So if you followed the last paragraph up until I started talking about beer, I knew that I needed to do my best to make sure that if I was going to go to the trouble of throwing a party for myself I better make it the most Mary Rose-ish party there ever was.  So the commemorative t-shirt was born.

From boobs voyage

From boobs voyage

So I created a tasteful, elegant shirt that indicated that this girl was out celebrating her soon-to-be freedom. It got a lot of stares, I saw a lot of people reading it that then turned to their tablemates to indicate that there was a lunatic with ginormous boobies running around The Vig with a t-shirt that said Tits Ahoy. And the rest, as they say, was history.

From boobs voyage

I posted all my party pictures on Facebook, so I don't feel a huge desire to recreate the photo sharing wheel by posting a photo blog on the event so I'm just posting the one above to really display what the shirt looked like on.

As for the party, let's just say that we had a good time. A lot of folks couldn't make it for various reasons, but the folks that did make it MADE it. My brother didn't buy me one single beer, but he did rock out 'Whiskey in a Jar' at the Play Inn. My friend Misty's fiance has the voice of an angel, the face of an Adonis, he loves her to the point where it is almost impossible not to "awwww" when they look at each other, and he introduced me to Hoegarden beer, which is exactly what I imagine the beer they crafted in "Beerfest" tastes like. And lots of old friends made it out for the final hurrah. It's amazing that I've known all the folks that came for as long as I have and that they still continue to make time for me in their lives, which is either a testament of how awesomely I pick friends, or they just found my drunken antics of 5+ years ago entertaining to keep tuning in long after motherhood called me its bitch.  Either way I'd like to think to think that my rousing rendition of "Me and Bobby McGee" is enough to keep them coming back for more for years to come.

As I type this Thad is getting his stuff loaded up to head out elk hunting.  I'll be hoping for a freezer full of meat, but also for my husband's safe return, I worry a little when I know I won't talk to him on a semi-regular basis.  I'll be heading to Colstrip this weekend to drop off the kids with grandparents, where they will stay until after surgery.  The idea of not having them close for that long is the most unbearable part of this whole procedure.  I'll also get to wish one cousin a fond farewell as she departs Colstrip for the Greybull, WY, as well as meeting the newest addition to another cousin's family.  Along with helping my mom fix up a playroom for the kids I have a feeling I will have plenty to keep me from dwelling on missing my kids.

I've been trying to jot down ideas for blog posts when they come to me, and I like to think I've got a few future posts planned that will be compelling and rich.  I'm putting those in my pocket for the hours of boredom to come while I recover from surgery.  I bet you just can't wait.