Shark Bar

After the wine tasting none of us ate. Instead we were suddenly in the Shark Bar at P&L District.

We had a gooooood time.

Steph told Barb and me we had to try this red stuff. I felt like I was drinking a Have a Nice Day Cafe fish bowl. We all know the after effects of drinking a fish bowl. Same thing with the mysterious Shark drink.

Angie, Kati, Barb, Steph and me before hitting the dance floor.

Me and a scary mule(?) mascot. Why was a mule at a surf like club? I still don't understand.

Barb and me with our mysterious red drinks and a smoke machine.

Barb and me "non smoke machine".

What is a night for "Beth Book" on a catwalk without some splits? I should add Seiler to this since I've done many splits since being married, but the majority were still done under my Beth Book moniker. I bet this is where my painful knee bruise originated.

The birthday boy, Rooster, doing is signature move.

Wine-o-rama

On Friday night Steve headed up north overnight to "not find deer".

And I spent Friday night with our friends celebrating Rooster's birthday, drinking wine, drinking some other red stuff that was a bit suspect but oh so good and doing a lot of dancing (which left me with a mysterious not nice entire knee encompassing bruise).

After work Ann and Nate graciously dropped me off downtown, and I met Barb for a drink with her co-workers and then we headed to meet the gang at the Cellar Rat for a KC ISU Alumnae Wine Tasting. Saying I enjoy wine is a understatement, and I obviously love being with friends so I knew a good night was ahead of me.


Barb and I are only starting our fun for the night.


As I mentioned Friday night was Rooster's birthday! Angie and Joe brought the dessert.

The birthday boy and me. I didn't realize my eyes were already squinty. You would think at age 34-1/2 I would have the "eat dinner before drinking" thing down.

The ISU girls (and a couple KU girls) after the tasting was over but the pours were still coming.

Whoo Girl

On Monday night, Ann invited us over for some tasty enchiladas. When we returned home, we had missed, "How I Met Your Mother".

Steve had a message from a friend saying he wanted to watch "How I Met Your Mother" with us. We were perplexed.

But within the first few minutes of pushing play on the DVR, we understood why. The episode was about whoo girls.

I am a whoo girl.

I whoo when I'm excited at work (along with spirit fingers), when I win a board game, when my favorite song comes on, when I'm out with my girlfriends...

Whoo is my sound.

I am a happy whoo girl with a husband who cannot make that sound come out of his mouth in a genuine way; even if both of our lives depended on it. Although it would be extremely entertaining.

Commode

We've had a toilet in our guest room (and hence no toilet in our upstairs bathroom) for two weeks.

Surprisingly, I'm completely fine with the length of time it's been there. Actually, I've sat on the toilet a few times in the middle of the room while I've chatted on the phone.

And if Steve wants to walk around a toilet for the rest of his life to get to his closet, I say more power to him.

P.S. And we're not doing this so my parents don't stay with us for Thanksgiving. We actually would really like them to stay with us one night!

It's Back...

It's that time of the year when I lose Steve overnight multiple weekends so he can leave the city, cook chili and eat with men who have names that can't possibly be on their birth certificates, play board games with a little girl, sleep on the floor of an office with a howling dog outside the door only to wake up in the middle of the night to go sit outside in the middle of a numb-freezing field for double-digit hours with little to no success.

Hunting season is here.

Game Day

This past weekend was spent in Iowa City for the Iowa/Penn State football game with the fam. For some reason Steve decided to stay home and get ready for deer season and work on the upstairs bathroom. Mature but anyway...

For those of you who are unaware, it was quite frigid in Iowa City on Saturday (like 20 degree windchills...brr). We were all thankful for my parent's and Robinson's rockin' Jamboree RV for pre and post tailgating festivities.

And, then of course, there was the actual football game. Cold and amazing! What an upset...


Jack and Nate hangin' in their grandparent's Jamboree. They don't know how lucky they are to be the second generation in line to own this piece of equipment.



There was a surprise Hawkeye baby shower for Baby Book!

Ahh...Phil. Phil tailgating RV is next door (is that how you say it?). Anyway, two seasons ago Steve and I stayed overnight in the Jamboree in the parking lot, and we got to know Phil quite well. In fact I believe Phil and Steve have some type of ESP relationship. I don't exactly what that means but it's true. And now that they're texting buddies (and Steve does not text)...

Fans after the upset storming the field. It was freezing, numb cold but the game made it worth it!

Ann, Wendy, Patti, Erin and me post-game tailgating on the bed of the RV. Check out the sweet decor...

Chex Mix Gone Awry...

I am yelling the ingredients to make Chex Mix from my computer in the living room to Steve who is in the kitchen.

For anyone who is offered Chex Mix this weekend in Iowa City at the tailgate be forewarned.

I apparently do not know the difference between teaspoons and tablespoons when it comes to bland spices such as garlic powder, onion powder, seasoned salt and worcestershire sauce.

Roar...

Ann and I loooooooved The Lion King Sunday night.

Somehow we we scored front row seats by the stairs going up to the stage so it was like we were getting a personal performance throughout the show.

If our seats to every show is like that, the guys just may very well get out of every future show whether they like it or not (they will like it).

Nephews Halloween Style

Scary, smokin and sweet in West Des Moines Seiler style.
Why does Iowa always do Beggar's Night the night before Halloween? I've always wondered about this...

Friday afternoon, Nate went trick-or-treating in his dad's office (which conveniently is three floors above my floor).

Nate and his mom on a major sugar high (Nate, not Ann).

Superman handing out candy at our house Friday night.

Working Hard for the Money

This morning about 9a (okay, I realize that means it really is 10a), I came into work.

I work in a 16- story building that includes multiple companies. When I pulled up, there were three cars in the parking lot.

Two of the three cars belonged to people with the last name Book who ironically are wombmates.

My parents either raised their children:

1. with strong work ethics.
2. with procrastination skills that force them to work on Sunday mornings.
3. to have careers where the work load is way more than one person can handle (even if your last name is Book).
4. to have nothing better to do on a Sunday morning.

Depending on the moment, I guess it could be any of the above, but I'm going to go with #3 because none of the other options are acceptable and are completely lame for a Sunday morning.

Jeans-O-Rama

Wednesday night I did two of my favorite things. I was surrounded by designer jeans and I was drinking wine.

My friend Joanne hosted a designer jean party and jeans-o-rama it was. When I arrived I realized it was actually the same jeans' guy from my inaugural jean party about a year ago.


The hostess, Joanne, and me. She's one of my favorite "fashion" friends and threw one hell of a jean party. It's a very important skill set.


I brought Jen with me to the party. We tried each tried on double-digit number of jeans in small pink girly bathroom. It just kept getting better and better.