Greetings, earthlings. To quote Jim Anchower from the Onion, I realize it has been a long time since I rapped at you, but a lot of shit's been going down.

Well...not really. I was simply having trouble logging into Blogger, and then I wasn't interested in blogging so I didn't do it. Today, I am feeling "It" again ("It" being the urge to blog, of course, not nausea) so here we are. Yup. Yeah...Wow. Yup.

A few weeks ago, one of the managers here sent an e-mail out saying that every Friday until the end of the year would be casual Friday, so we could wear jeans to work. So, this morning I got dressed in my favorite jeans and sweater with my kind-of sloppy Rocketdog sneakers (but they are so comfortable and cute) and went into work.

Guess who didn't get the memo that the casual Fridays had been cancelled?

I feel like the biggest slob today, walking around in jeans and sneakers while everyone else is dressed 'appropriately.' No one has given me a hard time, but I do feel a little messy and strange today. I have been hiding in my cube and only venturing out when I sense no one looking. It's a shadowy existence.

I don't belong here; I belong in a trailer park! It's true. Me and my dirtbag-lookin' self would be better off hanging out in front of some trailer down in Bisbee, suckin' on a Blue Moon (because I love those) and wiping my hands off on my pants.

I say this because I DID this. When Kristen and Ezzy were here for our wedding, the four of us took a trip to Bisbee to stay in the Shady Dell. This is, quite possibly, the COOLEST place to stay in the entire state. Maybe the world...? I don't know for sure, since I haven't been to many places. But I can say with all certainty that it was really cute and kitschy and tacky and...well, take a look at it, damn it:
This is the Shady Dell. You can't see it, but just beyond that adorable little Airstream is a graveyard. Seriously. But if graveyards aren't your thing, you can take solace in the knowledge that a cute little retro diner is just to the right of this shot, its neon glow casting away all ghosts, re-animated corpses and walking deads. Ahhhh.

On a sidenote, Kristen was freaked out that night thinking about this little story we read in the police blotter in Bisbee's newspaper while we were eating dinner at a pizza place in town: "A deranged Hispanic male was seen walking in traffic carrying a cross and shouting at people." She really thought the deranged Hispanic male was lurking outside their trailer, getting ready to jump in and get her and Ezzy while they slept. Lucky for her, we never saw the deranged Hispanic male. Not so lucky for me, because that's the sort of thing I usually pay to see.

Here, we move on to a shot of the lovely newlyweds, hanging out at our very own Tiki Bar:
We rented a trailer that wasn't actually a trailer; it is a 1947 Flxible bus converted into THE TIKI BUS. It's pretty sweet. They decorated the inside in a Polynesian theme, complete with an actual Tiki God statue in the back of the bus near the bathroom. They stocked the bus with old LP records and movies to play on the vintage record player or black and white TV. It's fun to say you slept in a bus, especially one like this:

Here's Greg inside the Tiki Bus, trying to figure out the teeny, tiny little stove. Also, our sink wouldn't drain. You get a lot of things on a Tiki Bus, but you don't get good drainage. Or a lot of headroom. That grass looks cool, but it takes up some valuable space that craniums could have been enjoying. Also-- it is flammable. No smokin' in the Tiki Bus! There's only room for CHILLIN' here:

So that's my little post about the Shady Dell. It isn't luxurious, but it was just right for a broad like me. I hereby announce Armsweat's full endorsement of the Shady Dell. Go check it out, and say the chick with the sweaty arms sent ya. (They will most likely give you a blank stare, but go ahead and say it anyway. It will give them something to ruminate on, and trailer folk need ruminating from time to time.)