White hats, Red Sox.

Vikki, Karen, Missy, and I all braved the trek into Baltimore to watch their beloved Sox take on the Orioles in the last game of their series. It was fabulous!! We had unbelievable seats: 11 rows behind the Sox dugout. Amazing.

AND we got free white Orioles hats for being some of the first 20000 fans. Nothin like wearing the Orioles hat and a Sox shirt. Burn.

The only problem? I WANTED A FLIPPIN HOT DOG. Where was the hot dog man? No where to be found. I mean, seriously. Baseball=hot dogs. But not last night...we waited PATIENTLY until the 5th inning...by that point, we could have had a dozen beers, peanuts, pretzels, lemonade, and rainbow-colored slushies...all those dudes went scooting by. But no hot dog man. That is, until AFTER we had our dogs and fries (a healthy meal), and then all that came by our stellar 11th row seats were the hot dog dudes. What?!?! Apparently there's a rule about post-5th inning hot dog sales. Oye. What's a girl gotta do to get the yummy goodness brought right to her lazy behind?

Note to self: Still not a fan of baseball...but love the Oriole hotdogs. Still not a fan of the end of the year...but love the prompt exit of certain kids. Still not a fan of late school nights...but LOVE Grey's Anatomy!!

And one more thing...

I can't believe I forgot this one...

We saw Rod Stewart at Yellowfin on Friday. Well, maybe it wasn't THE Rod Stewart, but he could be a double for him...hair and all. Close enough to warrant bets from my posse to go up to him and ask, "Do you want my body? Do you think I'm sexy? Come on baby, let me know."

I heart my friends.

Note to self: FE...have I told you, lately?

Watermelon and Dancing.

Thanks to all for making Birthday 2006 a ton of fun!! Misson accomplished in both phase 1 and phase 2.

Phase 1: We hit Yellowfin for half-priced appetizers and desserts. OOOOO!! It was yummy and the company was fabulous...and I don't just mean El Posse de Turner. I'm also talking about those peeps that come outta the woodwork for some cheap good food. First, there was a man we referred to as "Watermelon." This was the code so we could ensure everyone's attention would be on him as he'd walk by, proudly displaying his hideously heinous silk shorts outfit...tie-dyed to perfection. Then, as if life couldn't be better while stuffing our faces with Brian's girly mini-brie plate or crab dip, these 2 40 year-old guys stood (that's right, stood) at the end of our table at ate their soup, hit on my sister, and proceeded to talk to a woman who has definitely spent too much time on her sugar daddy's yacht sunning her George Hamilton-shout-out tan and displaying her multimillion dollar investment chest. Good times.

Phase 2: Fur Nightclub. After getting into town, finding parking, and then finding the club (harder than it seemed), the night at Fur proved to be fun as well. We got VIP stamps, which is the first time any of us had ever got VIP stuff before...probably why we totally forgot about it and never went into the VIP lounge. Sheesh. We danced the night away amidst a sea of men and hooched out women...with a twist. Apparently, the 4 of us looked bootylicious to the African American male crowd since we couldn't beat them off with a stick. Once one left our crew, a replacement quickly followed. It was hysterical...especially since these male specimens were...cough cough...rather well...cough cough...spunky. Good times, again.

Note to self: Can't wait 'til summer...more time with baby sister and my peeps...