1 The Beginning and the End: Ragbrai Recap Coming Down

It starts, as it so often does, with a selfie.

And it ends, as it must, with a small canteen of unidentified yellow liquid that smells of vodka.

In between, so very much.

Ragbrai. 2014.

The Great Annual Winter Ragbrai Recap and Ride Report (GAWRRRR) begins now.

Join me, if you will, for a journey into the depths of the human psyche and to the limits of the human body. Bear witness to the love between husband and wife, parent and child, friend and friend, small dog and treats. Together we will explore the darkest caves of the soul and the highest highs triumph and cheap beer.

Boom.

BOom.

BOOM!

To be continued....

Happy Ragby Registration Eve

Don't just sit there thinking about Ragby!

Too Much Thinking

Tomorrow, November 15th, is Registration Day!

That means, out with old ragby season, in with new ragby season!

On the morrow, the Mayor will let us know what our new "team name" is. And you can register to ride with the Beavers. You know you want to!

[Rarely can we get the simple "Team Beaver." Last year we were "Nothing Rides Like a Beaver." The year before we were "Da Beavers Brought to you by the Mayor.]

Then, sign up, buckle up, and get ready. Ragby 2015 is only 245 short beaver sleeps away!

I went to Colorado and I was the only one who got this stupid tattoo #100MoN

I went to Denver this week for a conference. Of course, along with lots of learning, I planned to do some craft beer drinking and some beaver-bonding. (It was the beaver-moon after all). 

Steven insisted that if we were going to do tattoos, we had to do them when I came to Denver. She did some research, found a highly rated shop just blocks from my hotel downtown. On Thursday, I ran over and paid a $20 deposit to hold the Saturday appointment when I had a free minute at the conference. Jon, our tattoo artist seemed really cool, so we were G.T.G. 

Cool tattoo shop in Denver. #checkitout

Steven, though, was hemming and hawing. First she didn't want to get the hash tag. She didn't want to get the CRJ tattoo. She didn't want to get it on her leg. Fine, fine, fine. No worries. Whatever. She had some other good ideas, and it was the principle of the matter. 

Then, on Saturday, I got this text message. "We are coming. Playing tattoo by ear." 

Oh, Steven, and being sensible. Sigh. 

The Mayor wasn't pumped about the idea of the tattoo, nor was he pumped about the idea of waiting around while we got tattoos. And, to be honest, if I had to face a life time of complaining from my husband over a tattoo, I would have second thoughts too. 

But, I don't**. 

And, the way I see it, I owe it to you, gentle readers. To quote the immortal Samantha Jones, "when I RSVP yes to a party, I make it my business to come." 

You ponied up the bacon so we'd raise 3k clams, and I like to think a small part of that was my threat to get this tattoo. So, this is for you! Thanks for coming through.

I wrapped up my conferencing on Saturday with an awesome session on Partners in the Park on the Buffalo River in Arkansas, ditched my badge, and freshened up. Then, I went to meet Steven and the Mayor on the street. 

The Mayor had been celebrating college football all day with his friend Dale's (Pale Ale), so he hopped out of the car, hugged me, and ran to the bathroom. When we were finished, we walked to the tattoo shop. The Mayor went to the Polish restaurant next door and drank beer. Steven and I went to the tattoo shop. 

Jon showed me some different fonts, printed them out, and we were ready to go. I brought a skirt, so I wouldn't have to sit around the tattoo shop in my undies. Steven hung out and watched as Jon wrapped every item on his counter in Seran Wrap, and then we began. 

This is my first non-shoulder tattoo. And, it didn't really hurt, and it didn't take very long. 

The secret to a good tattoo: the perfect blend of green soap and water.

Then, it was done! 

First, let me say, it is stupid. I will admit it, but I love it. Mostly because it is stupid. And, stupid was the theme of the day we did the 100 MoN. I mean, what a stupid thing to do? Ride your bike a 100 miles in a circle? Who does that? 

I also think that the phrase is perfect. It is crazy. The tattoo. The 100 MoN. How amazing our friends are! How amazing H-Bomb and her family are! All just crazy. 

#I just met you and...

Finally, I think it is going to be really fun to show off on Ragby. It is just above my bike short tan line. 

And, in a strange twist on altruism, my pals Austin and Jay offer to split the cost of the tattoo for me. They didn't get a chance to donate to the event, so this is their way of helping. How sweet! 

So, thank you Fat Cyclist, and H-Bomb Nation, and all my darling readers. I love the four of you to death! And, here's the physical proof of my undying affection and enduring gratitude. 

** Awkward Break Up News: So, the reason I don't have anyone nagging me until death do us part is because the Tiger and I are calling it quits. It is sort of weird announcing this on my blog, but this blog is about my life, and it would perhaps, be even more weird if I just stopped talking about him. I won't go into details. But I still love him very much, and we still have Miss Holiday to raise and love, so he is still in my life, but he no longer has the role of tattoo-stifler (though he tried :). If anyone wants to buy me whisky to cheer me up, feel free!

November Semi-Hiatus: I realize I haven't been blogging very much in the last couple of months. It's a combination of the usual (work) and the not-so-usual (see above), but I am going to tell you now, there's going to be even less! I am getting started on my RAGBRAI blogging so I can barrage you with stories of Klinkersberg and Coors Light and shenanigans all December, and January, and maybe even February? Get ready. It's going to be #crazy.