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Posts Tagged ‘Outfits’

Dear Friends and Family,

This time last week, I was on a cruise. I didn’t pay the exorbitant fee for ship WiFi, and I was thus blissfully unaware of Leon and his band of Hitler youth interns hijacking the Treasury. Among other things. 🙄

Oh those halcyon days!

Anyway.

What kind of cruise?

Chris Jericho’s Rock ‘n’ Wrestling Rager at Sea.

Listen: I grew up in Georgia. Y’all know I’m a redneck.

Wrestling was a part of my childhood. Dusty Rhodes, the American Dream, was like kin. One of my first crushes was Robert Fuller, whose tag-team partner was Ted DiBiase, the Million Dollar Man.

All Elite Wrestling is the best. It’s far superior in storylines to World Wrestling Entertainment. It’s like a soap opera featuring sweaty men. And one of the best characters is Chris Jericho. He understands the assignment.

Jericho is on the right wearing a onesie featuring cats and tacos.

Jericho also fronts one of my favorite bands: Fozzy. Fozzy performed on the cruise, along with a bunch of other bands.

Wrestling AND rock music? It’s the perfect combo for me. I’ve been wanting to go on this cruise for years.

Pre-trip, people would ask where the ship was going. I answered, “I don’t know. I don’t care.” Turns out: Puerto Plata, DR. Fine. I was there for what was happening on the Norwegian Gem.

In addition to Fozzy, the lineup featured the return of Great White. Yes, THAT Great White. They have a new singer. He’s very talented and VERY young. Was DEF not alive during the band’s first go ‘round.

The singer bears a striking resemblance to 20-hour Tina’s daughter Elsa.

Others: Kuarantine (another Jericho-fronted band, this one focused on KISS covers of the no-makeup years), Guardians of the Jukebox (all covers), Excitable (a Def Leppard tribute band), Nocturnal Affair (a screamy metal band), and — another favorite of mine — The Hot Damn!

Love them. Listen to “I Didn’t Like You Anyway” or “Automatic.”

And then there was the wrestling.

Ricochet and Komander put on an acrobatic show. This isn’t your dad’s wrestling extravaganza.

There was at least one show per day along with photo opps, autograph sessions, podcasts and random other events — events like a belly-flop contest.

Here’s Will Ospreay with his stellar attempt.

As you are all on a boat together, you could find yourself riding the elevator with Toni Storm.

Or passing Turbo Floyd of the Outrunners in a hallway.

He’s right out of the ‘80s all the time!

Or standing in line at the bar with Jesus.

What was hilarious later is that Fozzy has a song called, “Drinking with Jesus.” The crowd was SO EXCITED and lifted this man up to the front. Sadly, Jericho didn’t even notice. Missed opportunity, I say.

As for drinking, I started the cruise still doing Dry January. Friends, that is a rough choice. ROUGH. Especially when I hear fellow passengers say things like this about their own drinks:

“I’m drunk, and I can tell that’s strong. Got DAMN, that’s strong!”*

But I made it.

And I didn’t get crazy on the trip, either. Unlike others. Look at Will Ospreay’s face after a night of drunken karaoke:

Let me tell you: Cruises are GREAT for people watching.

On the last day at sea, my traveling friend and I sat and watched people for hours. I asked him if he was going to get a chair massage like the dude next to us.

He said, “Absolutely not.”

I said, “Why not? You liked the last massage you got.”

He said, “That was in a nice relaxing cave. This is on a ship surrounded by weird people with Great White doing a sound check in the background.”

Fair enough.

Five days, four nights of events tailored to my interests? Yes, please.

I mean, JUST LOOK!

I’ll tell you this: It was the first time on this cruise, but it won’t be the last.

Who is coming with me next time?

Let’s go!
Beth

*Yes, “got damn” with a “t.”

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Hey kids!

Auntie Beth wants to share some travel advice to distract you from A VERY BIG THING happening today.

If you like near-death experiences, the pervasive smell of weed, and 20-somethings in beanies, Auntie Beth has the place for you:

Oregon’s Umpqua Hot Springs

Doesn’t this look delightful? (Photo credit)

Soak Oregon will put the fear of God in you: “The last few miles [to the trail head] are on a rough road, so we recommend a high-clearance vehicle.”

Don’t pay any attention to that. (Auntie Beth nearly rented a Jeep. She would have been PISSED OFF if she had wasted that money. She was totally fine in her tiny, low-clearance VW.)

Soak Oregon also warns, “This trail is steep.”

Do pay attention to that.

The part that has a makeshift hand rail does not need it, and the part that absolutely does need one does NOT.

Auntie Beth tripped on a tree root and nearly toppled backward onto her man friend, which would surely have sent him to his death (not that she is being dramatic in any way).

A rare quiet moment at the hot springs.

There should have been warnings about other things.

• Facilities. The U.S. Forest Service notes a vault toilet on site. It does not mention that the smell emanating from it is akin to a fleet of porta potties after Lollapalooza.

The horde of hippies. It was just after lunch on a Tuesday. Auntie Beth had taken the day off. Had all these young people done the same thing? Or was this their job as “influencers” or something? There were so many of them — probably 40 total in pods of five and six — clogging all the pools.

• Dress code. Auntie Beth had been warned that Oregon hot springs are nakie. She was resigned to her derobed destiny. What she found might have been worse: the entire Columbia Sportswear catalog.

• Pot. The Hot Springs Hippies LOVED them some weed. Auntie Beth is no square, but does not understand the allure of smoking when edibles exist. (Don’t people care about their lungs?) Also, secondhand smoke is AWFUL. So skunky.

Auntie Beth took this pic after the first wave of visitors cleared out.

With rising concern (i.e., panic) about the hike back down, a burgeoning pot-induced headache, and general distaste for crowds, Auntie Beth felt the need to cut her visit short.

See that tight-lipped smile? Auntie Beth is not feeling the restorative effects of the hot springs.

No fewer than two wannabe travel guides insisted that Auntie Beth and Man Friend should explore the lower pools.

“No, thank you.”

If this sounds like your idea of a good time, ENJOY!

One of the locals Auntie Beth met at the nearby convenience store did say that the time to go is first thing in the morning as no one is there.

(Right. That’s because it is SO VERY COLD outside.)

Anyway, tell them Auntie Beth sent you.

*Buster!

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Dear Yamhill County Fair,

You have everything I would expect in a county fair:

Rides assembled and operated by ex convicts
Parking in a field
Odd signs (“shave ice”)
“Food” in the form of corn dogs and funnel cakes
White people in overalls

You also have some things I didn’t expect:

Hats with fake Trump hair
Goats with unusual pelts
The biggest trough of curly fries I’ve ever seen
A rodeo (photo by Amy)
Me as a chicken (photo by Amy)
Inflatable cattle
Sleepy pigs

And Sir Mix-a-Lot.

Thanks for an interesting time!
Beth

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Dear Summer,

Listen: I know plenty of people like you. We were all conditioned to like you because that is when we finally got a break from school.

But imma** be real with you: I hate you. You can GTFO.

I don’t like to sweat. It’s why I prefer exercising in the water.

I don’t want to lie in the sun and bake.

I’m not a fan of wearing shorts.

I moved to the Pacific Northwest where I was promised clouds and rain.

Yet here you are, Summer. Coming in hot.

Literally.

It was above 100 degrees for a few days last week.

My office is on the third floor of an old building with no air conditioning.

My house does not have central air.

Many places here do not have AC.

Why? It was never needed.

Now it is.

For you MAGA idiots who “do your own research” squawking that climate change isn’t real, let me tell you something:

It really f—ing is.

I have a degree in meteorology. For real.

(Ok, I’m breathing. Deep breaths. In with the good air; out with the bad.)

Anyway, no air.

When I got here and noted this travesty, people said to me, “But Beth, you are from the South!”

Yes, and we have air conditioning everywhere. In fact, the AC is so strong that you keep a sweater in your car just in case.

Not here. I even took the usual sweater off my naked cat so he could stay cool.

It’s not over yet. Tuesday will be hot too.

And I remember last year when we had 107-degree temps for a week in August. Fun.

So, Summer, please go. Fall, you’re the one that I want.

Kthxbyeeee,
Beth

*Glenn.
**Stealing from kids today.

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Dear Adam,

I know we broke up in September 2019. I moved on.

I never forgot you, though.

When I heard you would be traveling through Salem, I decided to go see you for old times’ sake.

Our relationship has had its ups (2013) and downs (2012 and 2019)

I see you haven’t changed at all in the past five years.

Left: 2019; Right: 2024

I mean AT ALL. You might not have even been out of those clothes in all this time. I have no idea.

You’re even still wearing that stupid hat. Whyyyy?!

And you are peddling all the same merch. With new tour dates, sure.

I have all these shirts.

There is one new thing about you:

What is this, Adam? One single dreadlock? Gross.

Your voice sounds great, and you’ve remained trim.

But I don’t understand the little stage hops. You moved like your pants were too tight.

I know you are almost 70. I understand that you are not in your prime.

But this is your only job. And many fans are still paying to see you perform.

You have no kicks to give.

Frankly, I’m concerned. Your eyes looked dead.

When you were introducing the band, you paused for so long, I thought about calling 911.

Were you smelling burnt toast?

Seriously, I am worried about you.

Take some time off. Regroup. See your barber (and a stylist). Maybe consider retirement. You’ve worked hard. You’ve given the world some great music. Fans appreciate you. Don’t repay their loyalty by dying on stage in front of them.

Love always,
Beth

* The dandy highwayman himself

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Dear New Friend Sarah,

Thanks for inviting me to Boots & Bottles last night.

Dry January was easy until the last week. It was nice to hang out with you and Mindy, and finally enjoy a glass of wine.

I had fun, but I will say that it felt very much like a high-school dance when I arrived.

But unlike a high-school dance, people there were ready to hit the dance floor immediately.

I feel like I got some cardio in, so that’s good.

I had no idea when I moved here that line dancing was SO POPULAR. I would never have guessed. I mean … in OREGON!

Anyway, thanks again, and I’ll see you next weekend for Diva Drag Brunch.

Your friend,
Beth

*Dua Lipa. Love her.

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Dear Friends and Family,

I experienced my first snow in Oregon. It snowed all day yesterday. As the temperature is not going to get above freezing for a few days, I’ll get to enjoy it for a bit.

I’m a Southern girl. This is a big deal.

I decided to walk into town to explore — something I haven’t yet done, despite having lived here for nearly six months.

The key to being comfortable in any weather is the right gear.

I have a new Columbia Sportswear waterproof jacket with the baked-potato lining and Sorel boots (bougie, I know).

My sweatshirt has a pouch for a beer. As I’m doing Dry January, this pouch served as the perfect carrier for Stumptown cold brew instead.

I was almost too warm on my journey.

Here are some scenes from my walk:

No snow plows/gritters in this place.
When I first moved here, the trains that use these tracks seemed SO LOUD to me. Now they are just part of the fabric of my life.
It’s like “It’s a Wonderful Life” out here.
I love signs and murals on the sides of buildings.
Don’t worry: This pooch wasn’t out there for long.
About half of the places were closed because of the weather or permanently because of sheer small-town economics.
This is exactly what I would expect from a gift shop in Oregon: crystals and coffee accessories.
… and Sasquatch-related things.
Sometimes it’s nice to really notice what is around you.
Home Sweet Home
Cat Weird Cat

Looking forward to experiencing all the seasons here.

I’ll report back.

Staying warm, 
Beth

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Dear Savannah Friends,

Many of you expressed concern about my social well-being when I saw you over the holidays.

Fair.

I do need to get out more. Try to meet more non-work people.

So this week, I did two things in two different places with two different sets of people:

Line dancing in Salem and a drag show in Portland.

How is that for running the gamut?

Those of you who have known me a while know that I haunted Stetsons in Savannah for line-dancing nights back in the day.

Salem, Oregon, is apparently a hotspot for line dancing. (Who knew?)

The colleague who told me about this event did provide some additional information.

It was great! I had fun and got some exercise. People were very welcoming.

That was Thursday night. I went to Darcelle XV in Portland on Friday night.

It was not like any other drag show I’ve seen. I’m used to acrobatic, can-pass-as performers working the crowd. This show was more like a cabaret stocked with Joan Crawford/Bette Davis clones in evening gowns. To tip, you threw your money in a bowl at center stage.

It was a good evening with friends, but I probably wouldn’t go back to the regular show. There’s an “open mic”-style drag show on Tuesdays that looks more interesting.

Still, I could have had a terrible time at either or both of these places and been happy to be out.

My next big event out should be a doozy:

Stay tuned.

Love,
Beth

*Love me some Miley.

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Dear Monét X Change,

I owe you an apology. I did not fully appreciate your work at the event last night.

As much as I like you in general, I was there for the sole purpose of seeing Big Freedia.

Everyone knows how much I love Big Freedia.

I mean, why else would straight, middle-aged me go to this?:

Lord knows that I am not the target audience.

My friend Wendy went with me. We were definitely the oldest people there by about 25 years. Two of a handful not in costume. And I’d bet a rainbow flag that I was the only heterosexual.

Not that any of this matters. It was a fun night. It was nice to get out, as my new job has consumed my life.

BUT we were there to see Big Freedia. And while I appreciate that you stepped in last minute when Freedia had a family emergency, I wasn’t really feeling your set.

I also wasn’t feeling the four bathrooms and two small bars for 500 people.*

I WAS feeling a new friend named Derek, though. Literally. He asked me to fix the garter buckle on the stockings of his sexy nurse costume. I was happy to help, and I ended up with what he proclaimed as my “new twink son.”

Anyway, thanks for your service.

Happy Halloween!
Beth

*not an exaggeration

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Hello, and Happy Sunday!

I woke up THRILLED today because I had a great night:

I got to see hundreds of naked men. And women.

But that wasn’t why it was a good night. 😉

It was a good night because I made new friends.

It’s always hard to move to a new city and start fresh.

I got to a point where I was mostly done unpacking and started talking to the cat more than seemed normal.

Did you know Facebook dating has a friendship option?

I didn’t until two glasses of wine into Tuesday night when I was missing my STL Tuesday Game Night friends.

I matched with Jackie. We texted. Had a phone call (this is big for me as I hate to talk on the phone). Didn’t get a serial killer vibe.

She invited me out with two of her friends for the World Naked Bike Ride — supporters not participants.

I learned about this event last year.

Yes, please.

Jackie, Melissa, Jen and I stopped by a grocery store in Portland. While waiting for Jen, an elderly woman rushed up to us:

Ladies, did you know a woman reaches a certain age where she can have as many cats as she wants? It’s called “manypaws.”

Lord have MERCY.

She told another dad joke, then walked off.

Me: Do you know her?

Melissa: No, but that’s Portland for you.

We had dinner. Told stories from our lives. Laughed. Then cheered on people braver than I am.

Melissa is planning a Mrs. Roper bar crawl.

Y’all, I’ve found my people.

Next weekend might feature a hike at a monk hangout with a wine tasting involved. I’ll be sure to report back.

Your friend,
Beth

*Dionne, of course.

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