And the winner is...

What happens when you mix two girls, one of which is due soon, and two dueling chicken restaurants in Pittsburg, KS?  Honestly?Mostly heartburn. But at least there's laughter along the way.

My friend, J, and I met up at Fort Scott, KS to enjoy one last get together before baby H is born. We were coming from opposite directions so this little town seemed a good midway point. I found a hotel right smack in the middle of downtown, in which all streets were bricked.

You know that made me happy.

We pulled up to our hotel, waved at the owner and hopped out.

Move it, J. I know you've just driven a couple hours and need to relax, but we've got some eating to do... and Momma Carolyn is hungry.

Here was the plan:

 

 

VS

 

 

This is not for the faint of heart, my friends. You need to train diligently for this type of assault. No sit-ups, no portioning, and definitely no dieting. Eat grease, nap, and conveniently forget where you put the scale.

I've been in training for this night it seems since the day I was born.



But first, we had to check out the barracks.

And this was our first test. Could we walk in to a multitude of patterns on the bed and the wall without losing focus? J held up well. I, on the other hand, had to sit down and put my head between my legs for a second.

Luckily I only wear solids, otherwise J would've lost me in there.



We didn't waste any time, but headed to our first destination: Chicken Mary's.

Before I get into our analysis of each restaurant, can I point out that J only has two months to go before she's due (not to mention the fact that she's wearing horizontal stripes!)? Don't make me cuss, J.

She looks like me after Thanksgiving dinner. So I was more than happy to shove fried chicken in her mouth.

I don't have as many photos of Chicken Mary's as I do Chicken Annie's, so I'll give you a brief description. We walked in and me, being a bundle of nerves, walked up to the check out lady and asked her seat us. She pointed us to the right person who graciously led us to a corner table. The room was busy and it felt cozy. Country decor, candle on the table.

The waitress, whose name we did not write down (oh yes, folks, we took notes) advised us to *not* drink the tap water. She looked horrified at our suggestion that we could.

J loved the potato salad, stating "It has a dill taste." This is of course after she took a nibble and rolled it around in her mouth like a Top Chef judge. I could only taste potato.  The applesauce was sweeter than Motts, which we later found out had cherry mixed in.

We loved the thigh, to which we agreed, that once you go thigh you just can't go back. The fried skin on all pieces were perfect: crunchy & greasy, or, how we justified it, "juicy."

Then it was off to Chicken Annie's.



We walked there from Chicken Mary's as they are literally side by side, and appreciated the brief reprieve from grease. I spotted a windmill and it instantly got a plus sign in my book.

We entered into a more open floorplan, which made it seem less busy. I had no confusion as to who was the hostess. She took us to a corner table as well, however this one was not yet ready and the cooks in the kitchen yelled at someone to come clean it. Open floorplan, remember.

I guess Annie would've yelled from the kitchen too. Authenticity? check.



Our waitress, Carly, instantly sat down with us to discuss the menu.

She said to J, and I quote "You can drink it. I like the water, but I'm weird." Chicken Mary's - no water. Chicken Annie's - yes water.

We're getting somewhere.

We devoured our meal and discussed:

J thought the potato salad was greasier, with more of saur kraut taste. I could only taste potato. The applesauce was plain. The chicken skins were not extra crispy and the white meat surprisingly ended up being juicer than the dark.



By the looks of my hands, it appears that I was slowly turning into a chicken myself.



Let's take a look at a few more comparisons:

• CM - no stuffed chicken in lobby. CA - chicken proudly displayed.


• CM - smaller butter, but no trans fat. CA - HUGE, but with hydrogenated oil.


• CM - no arcade corner/living room. CA - yes, in which we both dilly-dallied.


• CM - total $12.45  CA - total $9.39 (however, I did buy a lottery ticket at CA and won a dollar, so make that $8.39)


• CM - only lettering on sign. CA - lettering and a chicken that spoke.

The verdict?

Chicken Mary's won on the actual chicken dish. Chicken Annies? Ambiance & Creativity. Who can beat looking eye to eye with the animal you just enjoyed.

Did you think we ended there, though?



Heck no! We took our wild and crazy selves, back to our 20-toned room for some dessert. Chocolate on graham crackers, cheeze whiz style.

J asked if I could make her one. Little did she know that my chocolate to cracker ratio is about 300 to 1.

She didn't touch it.



Afterwards, we watched TV and knitted for a couple hours. Looks like I was trying to knit a spider web of sorts.

But it didn't take long before we fell asleep into a grease-induced coma.



The next morning we hopped on a guided tour of Fort Scott.

We were the only ones on it.

The announcer said that if we had any questions, to feel free and ask him. I did several times and he never answered. Ah, I felt right at home, Fort Scott. Or shall I call you Scott from now on?



The town has got some real beauties of architecture. I was so engrossed with it that I didn't realize how stupid it was to not have a lid on my steaming coffee. Several third-degree burns later, I was still enjoying the views.

It was a quick trip; we only stayed a night and left before noon the next day. But like every time I hang out with J, it's never the amount of time, but the quality. I so enjoy her! Can't wait to make these trips a trio with baby H.

"It's (still not) my birthday" month

This entire month, I've been planning (and not planning) things, using my birthday as the excuse. It's gotten to the point where I don't think it will ever arrive, it's taking so long.

It kind of reminds me of a friend, who will remain nameless, that literally told me of the conception of her child the day after said event occurred. It felt like she was carrying that kid for years. Who knows, maybe she did, because he came out as big as a three year old, I swear.

Speaking of which, is it possible to give birth to an 8-yr old? That's what I would like to do once the C & R family starts growing. I love that age.

But anyway, back to me. (oh Lord, am I now stealing the spotlight back from the twinkle of a twinkle in my eye?) My birthday. I've been using it as an excuse for everything.



Like when I forced some friends on a pontoon boat. It's my birthday.

Or when I reached for that second brownie. It's my birthday.



Or when tagging along while my bro-in-law was buying his bday gift, I bought the same thing for mine. It's been a month and I still haven't worn them. N, on the other hand, wore them out the door and into Starbucks where everyone asked him where he uses them. This is literally an hour after the purchase, so we had the pleasure of watching him lie to the general public on "the best" places to wear them. "Well, I normally use them canoeing, but they're also very comfortable to work out in as well." Oh, it was priceless... and it was also my birthday, you know.

Or when unable to find the remote to watch a movie, asked R to please press play because if he hadn't heard already... it's my birthday.



Or indulging myself with a 50 cent pair of salt/pepper shakers because they are reminiscent of R and me. It's MY BIRTHDAY.

Or sleeping in that extra 15 minutes and forgoing the Shaving of the Legs. Leave me alone, it's my birthday.



Or going to a scotch-tasting with a co-worker and realizing that I really can't fake making a face when drinking it. I tried to cover it up by smiling extra hard when the guy came by, but it only resulted in him thinking I actually liked it and thus giving me a little bit more the next round. The irony here is that as each round increased in liquid amount, so did my liking of it. My head the next day did not. However, it was my birthday, so I let it slide.



And lastly, having a Wuthering Heights experience on the shoreline of Rhode Island.

Thank you for the birthday surprise trip, R.

And still, it is not my birthday yet. Even I'm annoyed.  I hope we do nothing, because, you guessed it... It's my birthday (tomorrow).

The Fourth, in Fast Forward

I don't have nearly enough time. We have been busy moving, packing, playing cards, moving some more, packing some more, more cards and eating. In the middle of it all, we trekked down to Wichita to celebrate the fourth.

When I get back from a Regency-era adventure with my mom, I will sit down and write a proper blog post about the weekend.

Until then, here's a snippet of our weekend:

Bus Tour

Barn Dance

Lake Swim

Car Stuck

And, yes, the car is still stuck in Wichita as of today. Didn't even get to see a sparkler in action. Oh well, I got my barn dance in, so the weekend was still a success in my book.

I hear my parents on their way. A week in an RV with just the three of us.

Pray.... Hard.

4 years, baby!

Ah, yeaahhh. 4 years. Can't believe it.

I think I'll make R watch So You Think You Can Dance tonight. That's right. 4 years, baby.

I neglected to mention in last year's post that about month before we were to be married, the roof of our chapel was blown off from a tornado.

Midwest, ugh.

I was sad, R sent me flowers at work (the first time ever -- and can I say... so appreciated. No Hallmark law stating he should, just him knowing I was upset and sending an uplifting flower with a sweet note in my time of need. Loved it.),  and I started searching for a new venue. A church down the street offered to take the displaced couples and we had no choice.

But we still went to a service to see who we'd be working with.

They were pretty cool, for being children of the fricken corn.  As soon as the service was over, they turned with arms outstretched and moaning as if half-dead.

Looking back, who doesn't want to get married in a Thriller video?

So we said yes, and that was that. Oh, if I had to do it over. We'd be in a field, me in a white cotton dress picking wildflowers down the aisle for my bouquet.

Oh well, maybe for our fifth. Right now, enjoy photos from my 3 yr anniversary right here.

While you do that, we will go out to eat with possibly a golf game included. Ta Ta!

Oh, Stanley!

A few weeks ago, my friend turned a year older. We were on our way to visit R's parents and stopped through on the way.

Oh my goodness.

Also, Oh Stanley!

That's what I said every other second for the night we were there.



This is Stanley.

He's sad.

I love sad dogs.

One time my sister and I went to Petsmart and we found Freckles. He was sad. I still regret not buying him.



Look at those eyes. I know what he's thinking.

"Why is life so hard. What is my purpose. Who is this person shoving their face into mine. I want to jump out that window over there."

The next day we woke up and treated S to a round of golf.

But first I had to give her a bday gift.



Our library gives some books away free. And no I don't mean I just walked out with it. It really was free.

And this was one! Perfect for S.

This book along with a pink plastic flamingo for their housewarming gift has led me to believe that I'm probably the world's best gift giver.





It ended up being a nice sunny (littly chilly) morning. We only played nine holes before heading off to lunch.

And I actually enjoyed myself. I think it took not playing for a year and a half to come back a little more laid back. That being said, I can't wait for more rounds.

I wish Stanley would come along.

Topeka Winery

I figure I might as well show you a teeny midwest winery in the heart of Kansas' capital city before we start in on the big 'uns. We had moved to Topeka in the early 90s and, let's just say, it's very pretty... at night. You know, when you can't see as much. I feel the same about Wichita and, honestly, most of the bigger towns in Arkansas. Not much there for me to grab onto.

But look at this oasis!

We were in town for a wedding and Juice suggested we swing by here beforehand.



I mean, it even has a rusted-out knight.



The best part is the tiny cellar. You have to walk downstairs to the tasting area and take a photo with your friend, not realizing that the photo being taken was probably the last one before you quit dying your hair. You'll look back on that photo with a sense of longing. I actually looked my age in it. Wow.

The guy working the counter was really excited to have visitors as it was only the second weekend open. He was eager to discuss the wine and let us try as much as we wanted.

A cute place if you're in the area!

J and T's 30th Birthday Party

I don't know where the nickname Juice came from, nor did I invent it for her. But I was introduced to her in college with that name and it's still stuck in my head. She and I ran around in the same group our last year at KSU and she was also living with a group of R's friends. The first night I met her, I stayed up all night dancing watching people from the wallflower section of the dancefloor. The next morning I woke up next to people I only vaguely knew and she immediately made plans with me to eat breakfast where R was waiting tables.

Just like that. She's just a tad friendly.

But little did I know how creative she was until we slowly became better friends.

She's quirky and in my world, quirky = cool.

You know, people who aren't concerned with what others think of them. I'm still trying to get there, but I have come long strides since my early 20s. This blog has helped.



So, she and her husband T (who both also did the Adventure Race with us back in November - click link here), both turned 30 recently and wanted to celebrate. They invited their friends and paid their way for a night of 80s Roller Rink Fun-o-rama.

And we made it just in time for the Limbo. whew!



Each of us took our turns getting reaccustomed to roller skating. I don't think any of us had skated within the past 10 years, so the whole "balance" thing was a foreign idea.

Well, except for Juice.

She's been practicing to join the local Roller Derby Team.

Anyway, some of us pushed off the wall and hoped to slow down at the Limbo line.



While others had to be helped by an outstretched hand. Eventually we all made it. It took an hour.

Now, this first experience on wheels really tested you. The length from the line to the actual limbo pole is, oh, about 20 miles. No, seriously.

I wanted to cry, it was so scary.

It was like your first jump off the high-dive. Once you started, there was no turning back.



So instead of actually skating, I did one little push and then bent over. I don't think my head even cleared it.

The failure was promptly blamed on my high ponytail.



Then it was R's turn.

Oh, R.

He started off with feet parallel to each other and then somehow one foot started to split off and he couldn't pull them back together. So the only option was to go with it.

Hopefully he can still sire children after that. It was painful to watch.



After our first run on the rink we were already sore.

R and N stretched it out for a bit....



While I chomped on Pop Rocks, provided by the hostess, and watched the show on the rink.

Every two seconds you heard someone scream and then bones breaking.



Like these three. I hope the horizontal guy is okay.



R stayed near anyone with a helmet thinking he could just fall on them and avoid the cement. Good thing this guy had one too. Man, he wiped out hard several times, causing the 'referee' (what are those guys called - bouncer? chaperone?) to blow his whistle and check on him.

It was awesome.



Others just breezed on by without a care in the world. Juice called ahead to ask if she could wear those fast special skates. They said yes.

What a show off.

We were jealous of her skills.



But I bet you're jealous of my mad braking skills. That's right ya'all. I could eat your brake for brakefest.

...and with that pun I bid you good night.



Later on, we skated the birthday girl into the bathroom (appropriately decked out in daisies) for a birthday toast. There's something so liberating about having skates on while going pee. I'm not going to delve into that thought process, but I felt liberated.



We hung out for awhile until we were busted by the rink patrol. They were cool, thank goodness, and tsk-tsked us back to the rest of the group.

It was no use explaining to them that the bathroom break was necessary to..



do this.

Yikes. This should've been a recipe for disaster, but we both held on strong and whirled around. That was the thing I was most looking forward doing.... Spinning in the middle of the floor.

This had to be on of the most fun parties I've been to. We even broke out our Thriller dance when the song came on.

On SKATES, people.

And now I also want to take up skating as exercise... Forget running, people, skating will kill your thighs.

But it won't kill your fond childhood memories. It only enhances them.

We used to do the Hokey Pokey, the coin toss, races and a bunch of other things. But I bet you all have some memories of your own.

Share if you'd like, I'm all ears.

Uncle R.

The nieces love him.

He's the one that sprints upstairs to pick up little K from her nap.

And he's also the one that will count 134 spins without complaint.