Cindi’s mom made us breakfast out on the patio, and the local DJ dedicated a song to us on KCAD. It was then it was time to get in some nature before the party began. We headed west, to Theodore Roosevelt National Park, and decided to do some hiking. Since we hadn’t really planned on hiking, none of us were prepared; we had no water, and I was wearing flipflops. But I’ve been in much worse situations before.

painted canyon, in the badlands

cindi and matt on the trail

my awesome flipflop tan

We hiked down to the bottom of the canyon, wandered around for a while, then had to hike back out. It wasn’t easy. We got to the top and all had to rest for a while. It was hot and dry, and we were thankful for the warm outdoor drinking fountain.

Further west, we passed the Home on the Range for Wayward Boys:

Then we drove to the Montana border, since neither Wendy nor Jumi had been there before.

matt in montana, while we were in north dakota

we took turns riding in the trunk

We then turned around and headed to the Medora exit, to see the cute little town Cindi had been telling us about. It was full-on western. We had lunch at the Cowboy Cafe, because they served buffalo. Ick.

horse tongue!

matt’s buffalo steak

We wandered around, stopping into a few shops, and then Wendy rode the mechanical bull. We also had beers at the Iron Horse Pub, and sat out on the patio in the glorious weather. Well, I laid on the bench there. They didn’t seem to mind. It was perfect.

Late in the afternoon, it was time to head back to Dickinson. We took a spin through another part of the park first, to see the prairie dog villages (note: Jumi is scared of prairie dogs!) and look for buffalo. We didn’t see any (presumably because they’d eaten them all at the Cowboy Cafe), but we did see a very, very excited male horse. We couldn’t stop talking about it.

Back in Dickinson, it was rodeo time. I’d never been to a rodeo before, so I had no clue what to expect.

cowboy with a cellphone

We got our programs and started putting money on the riders, though none of us actually ended up settling our bets afterward. Matt opened his program and said, “hey, mine’s signed already!” Deb got very excited, because apparently that meant he won something. When they did drawings later, his prize was revealed: a championship belt buckle. SO AWESOME.

calf roping

this kid spent half the rodeo glaring at us. he was hysterical.

I’m glad I got to see the rodeo, but I’m glad I don’t have to go see one again. I kind of felt bad for the animals, especially the calves for roping.

We went to dinner with Cin’s parents at the Crunchy Kitten, where Terry couldn’t stop giggling over double-entendres. Afterward, we headed downtown (sans parents) to Uncle Ron’s Spur Bar, where crappy karaoke was in full swing.

wendy’s $3 beer

We were kind of bored with the place, so we decided to go to Army’s West instead. That may have been a mistake on a few levels.

1) a girl told Jumi they didn’t play much hip-hop there (presumably because she’s black)
2) they had long islands in pitchers that they just served with a bunch of straws
3) there was a crazy lesbian (presumably on meth) on the dance floor that scared everyone
4) they played the ‘Numa Numa’ song (which is the reason we decided to finally leave)
5) lots of potential date-rape action going on with the dancing.

ICK. However, we rocked the naked lady matching game. A lot.

Saturday, June 30, 2007 will forever be remembered as the day we invented Fuzzy Tang. Before then, I didn’t even know that sugar-free Tang existed.

We carried our creation to the Roughrider Days parade, where we met up with Cindi’s parents and uncle Mike, who’d arrived very early to save us a good spot. Since we were still early, we took advantage of the $2 long islands that Ponderosa Liquors and Wildlife Gallery was selling right behind where we sat. Very soon, we had bathroom-related emergencies, and one of the locals took us into the beauty salon to pee. We loved Dickinson.

The parade was awesome, as expected. There were Shriners in little cars, class reunion floats, Denny Halsted the rodeo clown (the two-time Canadian entertainer of the year!), gigantic tractors, candy raining from flatbed trucks, and mardi gras beads.

Also, a “you’re going to hell, sinners!” float. That was my favorite. You don’t see that much ’round these parts.

After the parade, we went to Dan’s supermarket for beverages and such, and it was there that we discovered NOBBYS, the coated-peanut snack that’s the worst thing you’ve ever tasted, and yet you can’t stop eating them. We went back to Cindi’s parents’ house for lunch, and were joined by Cindi’s aunt Rosemary, possibly the coolest old person we’d ever met. She told us she was a pimp, and called her garden hoe ‘velvet’. It was confusingly awesome.

We took a nap, and then part of the group headed to look at scary cemeteries while Jumi and I sat on the patio, knitting. Michelle, Dustin, and Gavin arrived; we played with fireworks and monkey nuts in the backyard until it was time to go back downtown for the main event.

matt’s blue balls

wendy having a time-out

gavin’s smoke bombs

We piled in the Dead Hooker and headed downtown to the Party on the Pavement. We’d heard rumors about it, and were very excited to experience it ourselves. We began at Bernie’s Esquire (rentadrinkingbuddy.com), where we played some naked ladies, met some dude Cindi went to high school with, and got ourselves nuzzled by Bernie. He’s related to her somehow, just like everybody in Dickinson.

We went down to the other end of the blocked-off street to see the band, but they were having technical difficulties. We decided to check out the Eagles Club, where we signed the guestbook, turned off all the lights in one side of the bar while trying to ride on the motorized chair installed in the stairwell, and pissed off the people at the class of 1987 reunion by visiting their special bar. Then we went to the ladies’ room and met probably the only black girl to live in Dickinson. She told us about her favorite cocktail: Hpnotiq and Grey Goose. You drink it, and all the old guys go HOLLA!

What else could we do? The bartender asked, “you know that’s two kinds of liquor, right?” Duh. We even got one of the rodeo cowboys at the end of the bar to try Hpnotiq. As expected, it was absolutely terrible. And so we loved it. HOLLA!

We took our drinks outside, and by then the band was playing. Half the city was standing in a half-circle in the street, about 50 feet from the stage. This was confusing; apparently North Dakotans don’t know how to party, but we did: We took up spots right in front and started dancing (as is my wont, I danced barefoot). The band was none other than Bismarck’s finest cover band, 7 Tall. We loved them, and were suitably outraged that they had to remove ‘Crazy Bitch’ from their setlist. It had bad words in it, after all.

the autographed 7tall setlist

After the band finished, we hung out talking to them for a bit, and then Cindi wandered off with the high school dude to do dirty things in a port-a-potty. We went back into the Eagles Club. Matt and I visited the handicapped stall in the ladies’ room together for, uh, moral support. Yeah. While he went to go use the men’s bathroom, I busied myself with digging through drawers in the banquet room. I have no idea why, it just seemed like good entertainment at the time. While we were doing that, Wendy was upstairs almost getting into a fight with the class of 1987. When the guy almost jumped on her, she knocked his drink out of his hand and took off.

DICKINSON RULES.

We returned to Bernie’s just in time for last call, then everybody piled out into the streets to stagger around, shouting at each other. We finally regrouped, and Wendy, Jumi, and Cindi headed to the NoDak Motel for a lesbian pool party (you’ll have to have one of them explain), while Matt and I went back to the house to take advantage of nobody else being around. We didn’t hear them get home sometime after 3am.

[If you want to just view the entire Flickr photoset for this trip, here’s the link!]

doesn’t really inspire the respect it used to.

at the corcoran

zero-mile marker. i like the dude posing, the security truck, and the garden party at the white house.

the j edgar hoover fbi building

the capitol lawn says ‘penis’.

capitol steps

library of congress reading room

You’re not supposed to take pictures in the reading room. You can only get to it if you’re on an official tour, and then you’re supposed to be very quiet and respectful and take NO PHOTOS. Well, we attached ourselves to a tour group and ducked into the viewing room. It was a group of fifteen-or-so Russians who couldn’t have cared less about the rules. The very loud tour guide described the scenery, and the gist of her talk was ‘Americans are all so wealthy, they can afford to have buildings like this everywhere’.

supreme court building

The security guard in front of the Supreme Court got extremely nervous when I laid down on the steps to take photos.

the northern end of the tidal basin

The cherry blossom festival was at its peak that weekend. We couldn’t have been there at a better time. It was warm, sunny, and crowded. So unbelievable. If you ever have the opportunity to be in D.C. at that time of year, you must go. You won’t regret it.

My photos can’t really do it justice.

One of the places we saw that day was the National Gallery of Art, which I’d always skipped before. The regular collection wasn’t terribly thrilling, except for the impressionists. Also, they had an exhibition of Cézanne’s work in Provence that was very cool to see.

I should also mention the food that day, since it was beyond awesome: one of my favorite DC restaurants is Andalé, totally incredible Mexican food. Before dinner, we wandered and shopped in Georgetown (mmm, Diesel), and then had dinner at Papa Razzi, to which I had been before. The food was great and the drinks were better. I rode back to the hotel on the metro with my head on my knees, giggling.

edgar allen poe house

Did you know the Baltimore Ravens are named for the poem? It had never occurred to us. So, Edgar Allen Poe’s house is in kind of a dodgy neighborhood. The rest of the townhomes are boarded up, but I guess they’re doing a lot of ‘renewal’ in the area. Which is code for ‘fixing things up and selling them to white people for a lot of money’.

I stopped to use the bathroom at a gas station in this neighborhood. The supernice guy at the counter passed me the key, which was attached to a spatula, through the bulletproof-glass double-plate window and pointed towards the back room. I had to roll a mop-bucket away from the door first. There was blood on the wall.

I hope I didn’t get herpes in there.

The harborfront area in Baltimore has been very much renovated in recent years and looks identical to the tourist-zones in any other city: Honolulu, Santa Monica, Houston, Chicago. It’s bright and depressing.

We drove back to the district and the parents dropped us off at the National Museum of Health and Medicine at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center. We had to go through security, which included undercar-mirroring and ID checks. It was awesome. My dad, a former federal agent, got really squirmy about it.

The museum is located a couple blocks inside the complex. It’s a very unassuming-looking building. We went inside and the dudes at the counter took my picture and made me a sticker-badge. I fell in love with them immediately, because they were super-laid-back Latino guys with gothic-script tattoos up their forearms. I bet they and the army guards didn’t have much to say to each other. They were giggly, and we stood around talking with them for a while before entering the museum, which we had decided to visit for the sheer creepiness factor. It’s very highly rated in Roadside America.

lincoln’s bullet

these masks represent the expression on the faces of people who have been through chemo

Because they’re really creepy, I’ve put most of the photos from the museum over here. I’ll warn you that they’re pretty icky and include a lot of dead, malformed fetuses. If you have a low threshhold for gross, I’d skip it. FYI, the ones at the top are now officially known as the SKELETON BABIES FROM HELL.

Oh, despite what the tour books may tell you, the museum is only about 6-8 blocks off the metro. They warn you to take a bus or cab. You should only do this if you’re lame, because it’s an easy walk.

In the evening, we had dinner at Rosa Mexicano, an even better Mexican restaurant, known for their pomegranate margaritas. Hey, I discovered that I liked good tequila. And that, rightfully, is the end of THAT particular story.

fdr memorial

I had never seen the FDR memorial, either. It’s very extensive, and very serene. Also, it’s surrounded by cherry blossom trees, on the south side of the tidal basin.

in the breeze, the petals were falling like snowflakes

the parents!

not a great photo, but i don’t think many people realize you can see the capitol all the way from the tidal basin.

african-american civil war memorial

We ended the day with the other building of the National Gallery of Art, and saw an amazing Dada exhibit. It gave me fond memories of my Russian-constructivist days.

In the afternoon, we headed to Reagan airport to catch our flight that was delayed by over 6 hours because of a huge storm. It left at the last possible minute before cutoff, and we got home around 12:15am.

I skipped over a ton here, but I think at this point I’ve seen pretty much everything in Washington DC. It’s an odd city. However, the cherry blossom festival is absolutely worthwhile. Therefore: SEE IT.