Fun at the Museum

What do you do when you and your best friend drive for two hours to see an amazing museum and then suddenly realize you’ve forgotten your camera? Instead of coming home with beautiful shots of the perfectly landscaped grounds, the overflowing waterfalls and the priceless works of art, you settle for what your iphone can do.

And you do stupid things like stick out your arms behind marble busts of someone famous while no one is looking.

You take great silhouette’s of your friend’s backside when the opportunity affords itself.

You also coerce aforementioned friend to make kissing faces at the installations.

(This is something I’m sure the artist would have wanted you to do.)

The same friend, if she’s got a good head on her shoulders, will sometimes offer her own artistic interpretation of a large Pinocchio without regard to how she may appear to other museum goers.

Of course, anything that reminds either of you of the other, you must pose next to it…

… and mimic it as best as you can.

But, don’t disregard the strangers around you. They may unknowingly offer their legs to a giant head.

And even though you know your photos will be gritty and not “keepers”, you have the most fun of your life with your BFF-because any time with her is a good time.

Regardless if you come home with fancy photos or not-you have at least fuzzy photos of the fun had by all.

Spooky Ghost Hotel for your Anniversary?…

…no thank you. At least, not again.

Ten years ago, Biceps and I stayed here-at the Crescent Hotel in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. We had no idea that the hotel had a major calling card and it was a spooky one.
They claimed their hotel was “haunted”.
By ghosts.
Romantic, huh?
 

Courtesy Crescent Hotel
We were in the dark about all of this ghost nonsense. To us, it appeared whimsical in its brochures-may I remind you this was before the whole “internet thing” really took off.
I liked the historical aspect of the hotel and Biceps liked it because it was close to home which would help save on the gas expense.

Courtesy Crescent Hotel
Typically, I would never even speak of this hotel, mainly because I am a major wuss. But I was reminded of our “romantic get-away” recently when someone mentioned they had enjoyed the hotel spa. The hair on the back of my head, my arms, and both of my eyebrows stood up. This was not an attractive moment for me.

 

Source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/keithaustell/
Sure, I can handle a chop saw, talk drywall installation, drive a 45′ entertainer coach for stinky bands, and install hardwood floors. But stay in a supposedly haunted hotel? No way. It’s not that I believe in ghosts in the way that they are portrayed in movies. I do believe there are icky spirits, waiting to scare the crap out of me if I allow it. And I do get the heebie-jeebies when spooky things are supposedly present.

 

Source: www.spaindex.com
I attribute my heebie’s and my jeebie’s to my sensitive spirit, my delicate nature, my innate wussiness.

 

Courtesy Crescent Hotel
If I remembered correctly-this was our room. Of course, Biceps went right to sleep, snoring occasionally.
I, on the other hand, did not sleep a wink. My heart literally could be heard outside of my body. My palms were very sweaty. I lay there saying over and over, “God has not given me a spirit of fear, but of love, of power and of sound mind.”
I’d like to say that I am more mature than all of this, but it’s an area that I’m still working on. Shoot, the movie “Chucky, Child’s Play” still freaks me out to this day. I am so far from perfect…
So, for now, I will avoid these spooky situations and drink a glass of warm milk if need be.

The Strange Happenings of Little Rock, Ar.

Fifteen minutes of trekking around the nearly vacant downtown of Little Rock in search of coffee, Biceps and I witnessed several peculiar occurrences.
We had no idea that this southern town would offer a plethora of bizarre events-to be shared with the generations to come.

This, my dear readers, is a bird sticking its fluffy little body out of a small opening in the surface of a storefront. He and many of his friends, live in these holes.
Why are the holes there? One can only speculate.

That “stuff” below the bird is, yes, bird dookie. Apparently, it’s better to live up top than down below.

I think he’s pretty proud of himself and his positioning in life. There’s nothing more irritating than a proud bird.
Moving on…there is much more freakishness to see.

Is this possible by human efforts or has some mythological creature paid the trunk of this car a visit?
Could it have been subject to an anvil dropped by a road runner?
One can only speculate once more.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one:
A box truck drives into a lot. There’s this lonely sign in the lot that says to the box truck, ‘Hey, park really, really close to me. I’m lonely.’

But when the box tried to leave the parking lot, the lonely sign couldn’t bear the thought of being by himself again and he grabbed onto the box truck for dear life.

So, the moral of the story is, never listen to talking signs.
And always take your camera with you when you go to Little Rock.