White trash road trip

This past weekend's Portland road trip was exactly what I needed. It was just a great opportunity to relax and let the stress of the last week just roll off. Eric and I got up at 4 a.m. Saturday morning and set out. We had just over 6 hours in the car together. Fortunately, if I were going to be trapped in a car with someone I would pick Eric anytime. See, I like to share the torture like that. It's love.

The most exciting part of the trip was having actual conversation without interruption from our little peanut gallery. Drew likes to be involved in our discussions - whether he understands what we are talking about or not - and will frequently pipe up from the backseat with random commentary.

We'll be talking about...oh...let's say, something that happened at work...and Drew will suddenly shout, "I don't care about work! I like Transformers! Did you know that Megatron and Optimus Prime are brothers and they have a fight and Optimus and Sam have to get the All Spark away from Megatron and the other Decepticons and Bumblebee is a camaro but in the 80s he was a bug and Jazz is really cool too and my favorite is Optimus Prime and I have Optimus Prime pajamas and when I wear them with my Megatron underwear my butt fights with my pants and that is really funny and..."

This is the part where my head explodes like the Fembots in Austin Powers. Seriously? The kid talks non-stop and if he weren't so dang cute I might just gouge my own eardrums out just so I could experience the joy that I am certain comes with actual quiet.

Wait? Did I go off on tangent? Crap. What were we talking about? Is this how Drew got that random conversation gene? Oh yeah...Portland...

OK, so the trip to Portland was to celebrate Katie-Kat's birthday and we were having a "get white trashed" weekend. We went roller skating on Saturday afternoon and if you haven't been in a while? GO. Seriously. We had so much fun. I used to be da bomb on roller skates about 25 years ago. I would always win the speed races and I totally kicked butt at Shoot the Duck -- if you don't remember Shoot the Duck that was the one where you would skate around the rink as fast as you could and then the announcer would yell "Shoot the Duck" and you would squat down with one leg held straight out in front of you and roll. As you lost momentum you would fall over. Last person upright wins. I rocked. I could stay up forever by doing that bounce thing to keep a tiny bit of roll. Anyway, I was so NOT da bomb this weekend. Not only did I have trouble staying upright, but I have serious doubts about my ability to even get into duck shooting position. I might get down there, but I am pretty darn certain I would never get back up again. I suppose the upside is that since I couldn't get up again I wouldn't have to worry about falling.

The rink we went to was built in the early 1900s and it not only SMELLED like it was built in the 1900s, but the skates were purchased right about the same time. All the half walls around the skating floor were carpeted and the entire top of the walls and about 4 inches down on each side of the wall was a dramatically darker color and it was...ummm...let's say GREASY. That is the only word I can think of to describe it. I touched the top of that wall ONE TIME to keep from falling and I would.not.touch.it.again. EVER. Not even on threat of death and/or dismemberment. Put me on the rack. Put me in the iron boot. Take away my Starbucks. But whatever you do DON'T MAKE ME TOUCH THAT WALL because if I have to touch that plague laden carpeted wall of death my skin is going to peel away from my muscles, walk about ten feet, turn around, flip me the bird and take the first flight to Tahiti.

After surviving our skating adventure we went to a really great little bar to see the 2009 Miss White Trash Pageant. IT. WAS. AWESOME. There were all these girls dressed up in trucker caps and bikini tops with cut off shorts and I saw a fair number of mullets sported by the guys. There was a lot of big hair, side ponytails and tube tops. It was truly, truly, fantastically horrifying. We didn't make Eric dress white trash, but all the girls did. There was a lot of hair spray, blue eyeshadow and white wife beaters with bra straps hanging out. Here are a few pics for your entertainment.
For the record, none of us condone the use of this amount of lipstick, blue eyeshadow, glitter or blush unless it is Halloween or you are entered into the witness protection program and sent to Alabama. shudder


After the pageant we moved the party to a gay bar down the street that does a really great drag show. Let me just tell you. The queens? They LOVE Eric. It doesn't matter what drag show in what town...Eric? Will get molested. It's truly fabulous. I would like to say that my love for him means I get properly indignant and that I keep him from getting too fondled and that I always try my very best to protect him from the Queens who stalk him, but typically I am laughing too hard to do much but point and wipe my tears while holding my gut and trying to not fall off my bar stool. Here is a great shot of one of the Queens stealing Eric's shirt. The best part? Notice she is reaching for his nipple. I'm not gonna lie. I laughed so hard I peed a little.

The next day, after recuperating from too much beer and Drag Queens we had breakfast and headed back for Boise. On the way we stopped at Multnomah Falls. Here are some pictures I took. Enjoy!