Nikki Yeager

I was at a tradeshow this weekend for my job and had the type of fun a person only has at a Texan tradeshow (keep in mind, this is the same state the blessed you all with my quadruple chin bull riding pic).

Anyways, this year was particularly entertaining because our booth was situated right across the aisle from a time machine.

Ok, maybe it’s not a time machine, but it is a teleporter.

But really, this key closet is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen. A normal digital key tracking system – which we were selling directly across the aisle - looks like this:

It’s small, can sit on a table and looks like it belongs in a building. The other one was human sized, shaped strangely like a robot and weird enough that people stopped to take pictures.

I can only imagine a situation where a building puts that key-closet next to their door.

Doorman: “Hold on Mr. Contractor, let me just step inside of my Key-Porter and get you that key…”
*presses buttons, lights flicker, beeping starts*
Doorman: “Ah, here we go”. Grabs a key as the machine flashes, whirs and pops.

The whole thing is just so ridiculous!

My hometown never ceases to amuse people. Every time Ohio pops up in the news, it’s always for something outlandish and wacky. Almost every month I have another New York friend forward me an article or fact about Ohio and it’s always related to something entirely inexplicable.

So in honor of my state, and because it’s oh so funny to talk about, I’m including some of the weirdest OH facts below.

1. We have a lovely river in Cleveland that runs for 89 miles from Lake Erie to sourthern Ohio. A great river for travel, industry and... fires.

Yes, you heard that right. Fires. On water.

Now, take a moment to really consider that. How much pollution does it take to ignite a river? Polluted enough that not a single fish could survive throughout the entire span from Akron to Cleveland in the 60s.

During that time, the river went up in flames not once, not twice, but THIRTEEN TIMES. 

And to make matters worse, the Italian mafia had a penchant for throwing bodies attached to cinder blocks into the sludge filled flame channel during their hay day. Which basically made it the (somewhat) modern day River Styx. I actually knew someone whose father was a scuba diving police officer. His sole task was to dive into the Cuyahoga River by the Flats in downtown Cleveland and yank up dead bodies. Almost every dive he got at least one.

This is what hell - or Cleveland - looks like.

2. Up in Northeast Ohio we have regular outbreaks of wild animals. It’s like a spontaneous safari at least every several years. For example, when I was about 8 I went to a circus at Mentor High School and rode an elephant with several other girls. It was great, the elephant walked in circles, I pet her dry, gray skin, we pranced around in a high school gym...and then she ran away.

Apparently the elephant was scared by a clown right after the performance and took off running. She galloped through the suburbs, down the freeway and into a Big Lots parking lot where she was finally herded back into a handler’s truck.

Then, in 2012, 18 tigers, 17 lions, 6 black bears, 2 grizzly bears, 3 mountain lions, 2 wolves, and a baboon escaped from a backyard zoo in Zanesville and spent several nights terrifying local residents. That is, until they called in the hunters (we Ohio folk love us some hunting) and shot down every single escaped animal. It was a straight up slaughter.

3. Melon heads. ‘nuff said.

4. The last big news story I found in the NYT relating to Ohio was straight out of the weirdest-crimes book. A gang of at least 16 people went on the attack, cutting the beards and hair of Amish people in Ohio. How bored to you have to get of cow tipping and Wal-Mart trips before you think, “hey! Let’s go cut some Amish beards!”??.

Who does that?

People in Ohio. That’s who.

This year’s Gay Pride Parade in Miami left me feeling sort of… spotty.

And not because of the parade itself, that was amazing, but because of the sun. The hot, horrible, torturous, Miami sun. Despite the fact I know that I burn ever year the first time I take my winter skin outside, I still forgot to bring sunscreen along. So to prevent the terrible burn I got last year (the one that kept me from wearing pants for a week), I picked up some sunscreen before settling down for the parade.

Unfortunately, the only sunscreen in the entire Miami Beach area for under $100.00 was the stick-o-sunscreen stuff. Which basically looks like a big tube of chapstick but with SPF 50.

So I rubbed the stick all over my body in my best attempt to hide my sickly white skin from the blazing noon sun.

Alas, I did not succeed.

PIC

It seems that I need to learn Sunscreen 101. Or even Common Sense 101. Because the proof is in my sunburn: I cannot apply sunscreen to save my life. Apparently this is the method I used:

PIC

Which is similar to the method someone would use when applying a stick of sunscreen while riding a motorcycle. If they happened to be one-armed. And dodging a herd of angry buffalo.

So it looks like I’ll be using the purple sunscreen for a while until my loved ones agree that I’ve learned the mechanics of lotion application.

Which could take a while….

When I was a little girl I always imagined that someday I would have enough assets to justify creating a will, and when I wrote that will, the very first thing on it would be that at my funeral all people must wear crazy banana hats and polka dots. Because nobody can be sad when wearing fruit on their head.

And then something amazing happened. I realized that I don't have to die to make people wear absurd headgear, I just have to get married!

So I sent out this email and I'm copying it here considering more people who are invited to my wedding read my blog than look at my emails  

Email:

Hello ladies!!!

For those of you who have RSVP'd to my wedding already - thanks! For those of you who didn't - get on that!!

But I have an even more important reason for emailing you all today. And that reason is hats.

Ever since I was a little girl, I never imagined my wedding day or my wedding dress, but I did imagine every other important event of my life and tried to come up with excuses to make people wear crazy hats. Chiquita Banana style hats. Queen of England hats. Church lady hats. All sorts of crazy hats with feathers and funny shapes and ridiculous colors.

And then I saw pictures of Kate Middleton getting married and decided that I would love to be married like British royalty... meaning my women guests should all wear awesome hats.

Thankfully, I'm not crazy so I won't shun anyone if they choose not to wear an awesome hat. BUT if anything can persuade you all to make my wedding day dreams come true.. please wear a hat. A ridiculous one.

Because it's totally unfair that only the English get to do that.

Here are some places you can buy equally awesome hats if you don't have feathers to stick in a hat you already have:

http://www.ebay.com/sch/i.html?_trksid=p2050601.m570.l1313.TR0.TRC0&_nkw=church+hat&_sacat=0&_from=R40 - Ebay

http://www.etsy.com/listing/118108190/fancy-hat-band-black?ref=shop_home_active - Etsy, only 12.00

http://www.etsy.com/shop/Hatsbycressida?ref=seller_info&order=price_asc&page=1 - Etsy, feathers and crazy shapes 40.00 +

http://www.etsy.com/listing/120559597/whimsical-mini-top-hat-wedding-hat?ref=sr_gallery_35&ga_search_query=hat+for+wedding&ga_order=most_relevant&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_ship_to=US&ga_search_type=all Awesome yellow top hat +100.00

http://www.greatlookz.com/category/strawhatsberetsmore.derby_fabulous_hats/ All sorts of hats!

Love you all!!

The other day my fiance and I were out to eat. It wasn’t a particularly fancy out-to-eat experience, just happy hour and thai food at a place near our office. This place happens to be pretty darn cheap and sort of modern looking, so we love it.

Anyways, as we were sitting finishing our curry on top of a glass table/box with a man-sized clown statue inside (could be creepy, but for some reason it works…), we chatted about work and basketball and whatever conspiracy my fiancé is currently interested in.

After finishing our cocktails with complicated names – only 1 for each of us – we got up and wandered out of the restaurant while continuing our conversation. Daniel led the way to the door, looking back to continue chatting. As we walked past all of the couples at their little tables with short, little chairs, he reached out to open the door.

But it wouldn’t open.

So I pushed him (because that’s what someone should do in that situation) and told him to “stop being a wuss and open the door”. Because I’m a loving girlfriend.

And he did. He pushed the door wide open.

All the couples sitting on their little chairs looked up at the two people exiting the restauraunt…

through the window.

Yes, you heard that right. Daniel pushed down the glass window-wall and we broke ourselves out of that joint.

Two feet away from the perfectly functioning door.

 Somehow we'd missed that hinged beauty entirely and just jumped out the window instead. Just to cement ourselves as crazy people, we ran away giggling like fools all the way home.  

So I've been trying desperately to learn Russian. I'm determined to be able to speak to my future husband's family in their native language. And I'm also determined to put that stupid-monolingual American stereotype to rest. But it seems I actually AM a stupid, monolingual American. 

Basically, when I try to speak Russian I sound like I have marbles in my mouth and only half a brain in my head. It's so bad, it's embarrassing. Seriously shameful how badly I butcher that lanugage. 

And here's why I don't have ny hope for becoming fluent: 

1. I sympathize with this lady. Which is why I write in unacceptable print letters. Just like a typewriter.

Yes, that's correct. I am a Russian typewriter, smudged ink and all.: 

2. Hoteel, Hachew and Hoteem are all the same word (forgive my spelling, I haven't figured out how to convert Russian words to the Roman alphabet without totally butchering it). HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?!?!?! Those are obviously different verbs, no? 

3. Noun conjugation. Enough said. 

There are 6 different cases for nouns. Which is why Russian people always look so serious. It takes a lot of thought just to explain "I am going to Moscow" vs. "I love Moscow" vs. "I'm in Moscow." Because Moscow would have a different ending in each sentence! Gah! 

This guy knows what I'm talking about: 

4. Lastly, Russian culture confuses the crap out of me. Women change their last names based on the fact they're female (my dad would be Mr. Yeager, I'd be Ms. YeagerA), middle names are some weird conglomerate of your father's name and some random endings (my middle name would be something like Davidina) and one of the first words I learned was "hello" which has 12 letters in it and a combination of four consonants in a row. 

Oh, and there's this (really, watch the whole video):

The Orlando Airport. Filled with crying kids, mouse ears and random people inexplicably singing/shouting Gagnam Style (I'm guessing it's a Disney thing?). Pretty much my worst nightmare.

But they must have been pumping laughing gas through the A/C vents to keep all the childless adults sane, because on this particular day I found the whole thing unbearably amusing.

Even the 1.5 hour security line made me giddy. Weather it was the 20 year old French speaking tourists wearing Mickey Mouse ears speaking 90% French and 10% Disney Slang ("It's a small world after all") or the 2 year old child that got 20 minutes through the line and then, to her parent's dismay, nearly ripped her mother's burka off while squeaking "I need to pee! Now!", I just couldn't stop finding amusement in things that would normally make me want to stuff cotton wads in my ears and hide in an adult-only bar.

Then I saw him. The cutest boy I've ever laid eyes on. All of 3 years old, blonde haired, blue eyed and freckled. He was sitting peacefully in his dad's arms.

That is, until his dad made an awful mistake.

Dad jokingly to wife after moving 10 feet in the security line after 40 minutes: "Why don't we just turn around, use our passes for one more day and fly home tomorrow?"

Wife giggles.

3 year old boy looks at Dad, looks at mom. Suddenly realizes he's not at Disney anymore and isn't going back. Starts balling his eyes out: "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."

Dad looks at his feet. Looks at his wife.

Clearly feels like an ass.

Wife comes to the rescue. "But honey, you'll get to go to school on Monday and tell all of your friends about Mickey and Goofy and all the rides. Won't that be fun??!"

3 year old calms down. Looks at Mom and thinks about it.

All of a sudden a look of terror crosses his face.

Parents look at him like they're looking at a boy with 10 arms.

3 year old: "BUT I DON'T REMEMBER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

And despite the screaming, we all started laughing. Kids say the Darndest Things.

It's official. The pregnancy bug is contagious. After two births, a planned pregnancy and a miracle pregnancy.. my office is permanently contaminated with a harsh virus.

It's call the baby virus and it's recently claimed another victim - my coworker Rachael. Now the remaining un-wed girls in the office are having nervous breakdowns once a month and we're all considering buying BuildingLink chastity belts. It's clearly something in the water.

Which is why I was forced to add us running from the pregnancy scare in my office portrait. Hope it makes you smile

My boyfriend prides himself on being somewhat of a non-conformist. We both do. In fact, whenever we talk about children in the future, it doesn't matter that we might have freakish looking babies (we have VERY different features that could blend disasterously! Imagine a boy who couldn't gain weight for the life of him (we're both skinny minnies), with my ginormous ghetto booty and Daniel's shnoz). But those weird lookin' babies better be able to think for themselves!

Which is exactly what we taught my neice last weekend in OH.

It was a perfectly sunny day spent wandering around in the MetroParks with my brother, sister-in-law and two little kids. The little boy (Quinn) kept drifting off into mud puddles while my brother helplessly chased after him. All the while, Brenna yanked my arm ahead, needing to "lead the way!".

After a few hours of running after her little 5 year old self while wearing 4 inch heels, I decided it was time to go home. So we followed the family to the car and spent a few minutes milling around while Quinn was wrangled into his car seat. Brenna proudly displayed her first loose tooth as we all huddled around, impressed by her oncoming adulthood and debating the best way to remove a shaky incisor.

Which is when Daniel jokingly stuck out his clenched fist and said "Ok Brenna, you just punch my fist with your face and we'll knock that sucker right outta there!"

Kidding, of course.

Brenna looked at his fist, then looked at her mom. Back at the fist. Back at her mom.

Then, without warning, she slammed her face into Daniel's fist without another moment of hesitation.

A second followed where no one could do anything except stare. Shocked. Completely. Shocked.

My brother was the first to crack with a violent burst of laughter. Then came my sister-in-law who swooped to the rescue to comfort her little girl with the sore face.

All the while Daniel and I just stood there. In complete and utter disbelief.

"Well, we taught her to listen to adults!!" My sister-in-law continued to swoon while my brother had to turn around to keep from peeing his pants laughing.

...And now we're convinced that my little neice finally understands - always think for yourself before punching someone's fist with your face. Always a good lesson to learn young.

So I've decided that it's time I really let you all into my life. I'm talking about the deepest, most private, secretive part of my life....

My desk at BuildingLink.

I know I used to post about my eccentric coworkers at reco (who I loved dearly and still do) but I never quite found a way to post about my new job.

So here we go....

I sit at a desk in the little training area of our office. Behind my desk is a white board.. that I've used to creatively render every one of my coworkers with brightly colored markers.

Meet Pam. She's well known for her "Pam Roll," the little scoot-scoot motion she uses to get from one side of the training square to the other.



Here's Andrew. He eats 4-5 bananas within a matter of 5 minutes, at least 3 times a week before going to karate classes after work. And no, I'm not kidding.




Speaking of odd eating habits, here's a little snippet about one of my favorite people, Sharmi. Sharmi weighs about 10 lbs... when wet. And this girl literally eats 10 hershey candies at one time. She's completely indiscriminate about what goes in her belly (aside from leafy green veggies... she strongly opposes those) and is the queen of all things food in NYC. Here's my creative interpretation of Sharmi in her natural habitat:



Last but not least, we have the pregnant girls. I've already been at BuildingLink long enough to see one baby and one grandchild born. Now we have about 2 months until two of our trainers pop out their first babies. My boss is convinced it's something in the water... which is why I only drink bottled at work.



There you have it. BuildingLink on a white board.

The long awaited bull-riding video. Best watched when set to the music of Honky Tonk Bodonkadonk.

I might look foolish but 10 bucks says you couldn't do better!! lol

Here's a little collection of all the fun Easter stuff I found online. Hope you enjoy!!

1. JC & the Gang eCard by JibJab:
One of my favorites for Easter... but they have plenty of passover greetings for all my Torah-worshippin' friends too!  And if you go to the site, you might as well check out Bunny Attack as well. Totally worth it.


2. Monty Python and the Holy Grail's Killer Bunny:
Only the best use of a bunny in cinematic history. Ever.

3. The History of Easter by cracked.com:
Just a jolly little history.

"Later on, according to Christians, God was listening to his heavy metal albums and decided to have a different version of Passover in which the lamb would be God. So during a Passover around 30 AD Jesus was crucified, much to the delight of Mel Gibson. This event is remembered on Good Friday, which was presumably named by Satan. Easter Sunday celebrates his resurrection three days later.

Somewhere along the line, these remembrances of pain, blood and suffering became associated with chocolate, which in some ways wasn't that bad."

4. Eggshellland in Lyndhurst, OH:
For all my Cleveland friends - I have not forgotten about you. In fact, I'm jealous you can claim home in a state that displays "40,180 real eggshells displayed as hot air balloons and characters from the movie, "Up.""
I want to go!!!

Riding mechanical bulls. That's just how I roll during trade shows. Especially during the evening party at a Texas Apartment Association show. And of course, only when the owner of my company's son is along for the ride.

That's when I decide to drag random folks to the dance floor to line dance and gladly hop on the mechanical bull.

And what's a bull ride without the appropriate bull-riding face? Which, if you didn't know, consists of 4 chins, squinted eyes and a half grimace/half grin. Double points if you keep your hand in the air for the ride.



Videos coming late tonight or tomorrow/

Good news! The missing trade show booth was rediscovered and returned safely.

Or something like that.

I got a call from Yousef the cab driver after admitting to myself we’d never see that booth again. I answered the work phone only to hear him describe how I accidentally left my large black box in his trunk (I “left it”, we misunderstood the situation or he stole… just a matter of semantics, right?) and then demand payment for his hard work toting the package around and all. Without giving him much of a response I let him know someone would give him a call to pickup the package.

So our handy dandy DC sales rep headed over to make nice and retrieve the long lost box.

Assuming it was all handled and done with, I saw Yousef pop up on our caller ID about an hour later. Again, demanding his money.

At which point, I handed the phone to our office everything-gal and she masterfully navigated the waters of money, anger and [accidental?] thievery.

All I can say is thank goodness it’s off my hands and if it’s going to happen to any one – of course it happened to me.

For New Year's Eve I had the pleasure of spending a long, fun filled evening with my boyfriend's Russian family. 

Very Russian family. 

After a few cups of champagne for good luck, I begrudgingly hopped into his parents' car and let myself be hauled off to his sister's house. 

10 minutes later I was ushered into an apartment by his little niece and nephew. And then, suddenly, I was in the middle of Russia. 

Surprise!

The center of attention was a huge flatscreen in the middle of the living room playing some incomprehensible New Year's Eve party scene complete with Cossack dancers, perpetual streamers and lots of people in ball gowns. 

And apparently it'd already been going on for hours. 

Which is when I thanked my lucky stars I had a few glasses of cheap champagne before braving the unknown world of foreign holidays. 

Next came the food. Like Mexican, all Russian food seems to be a mixture of the same 4 ingredients: beats, cabbage, sour cream and fat. Some of those combinations are perfectly delightful. Some, not so much. 

So his family chattered on about a million things I'd never understand in a language I'm totally unfamiliar with while I pushed a few items around my plate and actually ate the others. 

Then a look at the tv- Suddenly there was a full grown man with balloon-boobs (literally) shoved in his yellow pantsuit dancing on stage while a fifty year old woman crawled seductively across a cardboard table. Then the balloon-boob man put a big shiny tin-foil star on his head and continued singing to Russian music. 

Cut away to an army of bunnies. I kid you not. About 40 men were dressed in head to toe bunny suits and dancing in the background. 

No one else seemed to find that odd. 

I focused back on my plate to discover about 6 more items that his mom kindly added to my already full dish. She means well, but I really hate when my foods touch. And let me tell you this - there was a very large, unsanitary, food orgy happening on my plate. Most of it with things comprised of beets. Beet salad. Beet salad on top of fish. An egg with cavier on top and some sort of unidentifiable sour cream substance... all running together in a sticky, icky mess. 

His mom took a look at the t.v. for a split second and I snuck a few scoops of food to my boyfriends plate.

He rarely notices when I do that.  Lucky me. 

Then back at the t.v. All of a sudden there was a woman opening a champagne bottle and fluffing her carrot-orange wig. Then came the Santa-Man Number. 

Oh. My. Lord. 

The only black person in the entire show (and the entire venue) took stage in a modified santa costume. It was somewhere between a mix of elf costumes, santa outfits and harem pants. 

Don't ask, I can't make sense of it either. 

In the background similarly dressed men switched from ballet to cossack dancing and back again. Then came a cutaway to the same orange haired woman drinking her champagne, a quick view of the dancing bunny army and then back to the Santa-Men. 

The number came to a grand finale with lots of champagne toasting, the dark skinned man doing the splits and the background dancers pairing up in risque poses. 

Then - BAMMMMM - a fresh batch of streamers fell from the sky and everyone seemed oh so happy to have streamers fall inside their champagne glasses. 

And I giggled while everyone else watched without the slightest hint of amusement.  

....And then continued speaking in Russian while the strange pantsuit man with the tin foil hat took the stage once again.