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Don't Quote The Raven

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Let's just get it right out there, 'cause I know what you all are thinking…


Side boob, so much of it, displayed at a public arena. And at first, when I bought the getup at Party City and brought it home to try on, I was a tad dismayed. Like seriously. SO MUCH SIDE BOOB. I wasn't sure I could bring myself to pull it off, especially at my hometown airport.

Look. I'm no wuss. I have no problem embarrassing myself. As proven in exhibit AB, and C. I live by the motto "As long as you can laugh at yourself, you will never cease to be amused." It's pretty hard for an outsider to embarrass me, as no matter what the issue, you can trust I will be laughing just as hard if not harder. I've always had a pretty strong sense of self, and as I get further into my thirties, my DGAF meter is pretty much off the charts. I know I have a circle of strong, solid friends and family in which I would trust with my life, and I know they know the real me and love every part of me (ok fine, so maybe they don't love every part but let's just go with 70/30) and basically everyone else who wants to judge and criticize me... to you, I say, DGAF.

But then I looked in the mirror in my bathroom with the cheap coconut bra from Party City and had a moment of self doubt. Thinking to myself, "self, what will people think? I mean, that's a hell of a lot of side boob. What will parents of little kids think? What will the old geezers think? What will everyone think of me?" And then I sent a selfie to my sister Rachel, who is basically the most mature, responsible, level-headed non-crazy one in our entire extended family and she responded with the following:

"Just do it! It's fun and funny and so many people these days are too uptight and judgmental and don't know how to have any fun and don't let them ruin your spirit and enthusiasm for the so-called unconventional. And besides, your nipples are covered anyway and that's the most important part."

Hells yes, sister dearest, fist bump.

And that's all it took. One little pep talk from one of those solid friends and family I was speaking of and my normal DGAF attitude was back in full force.

And those around me? The ones with children and the elderly? "You have a lot more guts than me" and "that is so freaking awesome" were the statements heard most around our little local airport. My worries were put to ease when I noticed everyone around me loving and applauding and dare I say appreciating my outlandish tactic to welcome a very dear friend to town.

Speaking of that very dear friend, her name is Bre, and I am now going to write an ode to Bre that I have aptly titled:

An Ode To Bre.

Dearest Bre, 

I am so happy we met approx. two years ago via the internets. Remember our early Facebook instant message sessions? I do. I still have them all saved. I look at them from time to time whenever I'm bored and Dr. Phil is a rerun. They still make me laugh. Almost as much as our recent #toothfairymoney inside joke does. 

You are the rock to my star, The Situation to my Snookie, and the fireball to my mouth. 

I could start by thanking you for one million things, but the most important thing I am thankful for is for you introducing me to DAMN GINA! Why you gotta mess with my sleep schedule and sex life like that? Ever since I discovered that amazing slice of heaven, the only action happening is my throat going hoarse from laughing so hard and every one of my friends' phones blowing up from massive screen shot text messages. I don't think the acronym LOL is ever as realistic as it is when it comes to me and this monstrosity. 

You make me laugh. Not just laugh-laugh, anyone and Jon Gosselin via his Ed Hardy days can do that, but you make a girl laugh. Side clutching, seal clapping, no sound escaping cause I can't get a freaking breath in motha f*cking laugh. It's amazing and rare and incredible and I never want you to stop. 

I mean, you also laugh uncontrollably at my hilarious jokes, let's not let that go unsaid. 

You've loved me through it all: when I've mistaken lamb for beef, or when I ghosted New Years Eve in Vegas, or when my kids berated you for making a totally lame peanut butter & honey sandwich, or when I ate the last of your JoJos. You've loved me though that egg roll disaster and when I fell into a peaceful sleep not once but twice at my sisters house. Oh and hey, remember that aggressive park ranger at Lake Shasta? Still one of my fave memories to date.

I love that you love me for all my quirks, and I love that you call me out whenever I'm being ridiculous. You definitely don't sugarcoat anything, except maybe your appreciation for my scooter riding skills, and that is exactly what I need in my life. 

Hey remember that time the umbrella smacked me in the face when I opened it the wrong way?

Just so you know, my entire family loves you. Like, the entire bunch. You fit in so perfectly and so effortlessly and I honestly think they love you a tad bit more than me. Which would totally chap my ass if it was anyone else but you but since it's not, I'm totally ok with it.

My lips hurt real bad, this boat is still rocking, that scuba-diving hoe, Shaunie, Joshy and Ravey, Rob has a song request, Brenda Bauer, dancing twins, look at that genuine smile and "why don't you just bang Rob!" are a million of our inside jokes we will have for the rest of our lives. Oh, that and #rightswipe.

What I'm really trying to say, is I just love you. You are a true and amazing friend with some serious burping skills. You make my life better and you have amazing boobs.

Two last things before my ode is done…

1) Not coke but…

36 more sleeps!


So it came and went again. Hydroplane Races 2014 has concluded. It has always been a weekend I look forward to, as I grew up attending from year one of my life. My grandparents live on the river and boat races feels so natural and like I'm right at home. Besides Bravo's annual Real Housewives of OC Reunion, the boat races are one of the times I look most forward to during the year. And this year? The girl I fall more and more in love with every time we get together got to experience it with me. (Come back tomorrow for a post where I wax nostalgia on just that. And to see the get-up I wore to pick her up at the airport. There may or may not have been massive sideboob.) 

Friday and Saturday we spend on the river, anchored in what they call the Mud Hole. Let me just stop and praise my amazing husband for a hot sec. He has been working like mad. Getting up at 4:30 for the past few weeks, working outside on the roof of a school in 100+ heat, and getting home around 6 at night. Exhausted. So when he told me he was also going to be working this weekend, I was bummed but more so, super worried. As in, "um, hello! What about me? What about this weekend? What about the boat? What about all my friends? What about meeeeeeee?"

He knows the weekend is super important to me so this is what he did: got up on Saturday morning at 4:40. Went to work. Came down to the docks around noon. Drove the boat to the Mud Hole for us all, anchored the boat, and then took the dingy back to the docks and went back to work til 5, when he joined us again on the river. He definitely went above and beyond and way out of his way to make this weekend perfect for family and friends and just so you know Rob, everyone talked about what an amazingly fun time they all had so thank you times a mill. ;)

I'll let my crap load of photos above mainly speak for themselves, and how the weekend events transpired, but some things I have to document for documents sake. 

Such as, there were so many "do you remembers…"

- Do you remember when I gave you that spray tan in the dark when the power went out?
- Do you remember when you ordered a cheeseburger, taco and egg roll last night?
- Do you remember when I joined Tinder for about five minutes?
- Do you remember when Rob asked that guy if he paid for his boat with tooth fairy money?
- Do you remember when you forgot that flamingo I got you? That was seriously so rude. 
- Do you remember when you lost your cup for two days and Rob found it underneath the garbage can
  stuck between two lifejackets?
- Do you remember when Nickelback came on and you danced your ass off? To Nickelback.
- Do you remember when I kept asking you why everyone hates Nickelback?
- Do you know where I am?

…and so many more "do you remembers" that I can't share because names would be used and this just isn't the place. Private text chat? Sure. But not on some respectable site like this here blog.

Then there was the time we were going through all the photos we took on the boat in the middle of the river and there was a huge brown pussy willow in every. single. picture. On the boat in the middle of the river. And no one has any idea how it even got there. Pussy willow? On a boat? Color me confused. 

Great friends, great music, great times. Chalk another amazing weekend up to success. 

Meet here next year? Same time, same place?
Alright. So today is the day. The day my blog friend turned real life bestie is coming back to see me. (You can see our first visit here, our second visit at Lake Shasta, CA here and our Vegas vaca here.) The first we ever met, I picked her up in Portland, Oregon in a chicken costume

It was embarrassing as hell to say the least, but it had to be done. And tomorrow? Well, her homecoming may be met with something ever better. Even better or even worse, depending, I'm not quite sure yet, however I will most definitely be documenting it on good ol' instagram in real time. So make sure you are following me (username: @ravenasmith) to witness me embarrass myself once again.

Once she arrives? The weekend festivities will commence. Of course, I will be instagramming all that also like the IG whore that I am. Cuddling, jello shots, backyard workouts, river hijinks and just complete F.U.N. shall be had.

Can't wait.

Happy weekend friends.