Best Anniversary Ever

All in all, this year's anniversary kicked the shit out of last year's. It wasn't that hard to do. Since I dragged Josh to Nine Inch Nails last year, I decided we should do something he wanted to do this year. He has been a Packers fan since he was little, despite their overall suckiness and the ridiculousness that is the "Cheesehead." Seriously, what's a Packer anyway? How tough-sounding is that name? We've got bears, vikings, lions, all forces to contend with, and... people that pack cheese. These poor f'ers are probably making minimum wage, working on their feet all day, just wanting to get home to their fat wives and filthy little kids (average of four per trailer). The last thing they want to do is go head-to-head with fierce wild animals or some heavily armed Nordic conquerers. They've been packing cheese all day, for chrissakes!

Anyway, we spent the first couple days in Door County. This is a beautiful time to visit, but you have to battle stupid-ass tourists going to stupid-ass fall festivals. One morning, it took us over a half hour to drive through a town with a population of around 300 people. The cool thing was that at 10:30 in the morning, there was a stand that advertised $4 Bloody Marys and $5 Jager Bombs, and it had a longer line than the Cherry Kolache stand. Even cooler was that no one in the line was a day younger than 50.

The first night, we went to a fancy-ish restaurant close to our resort. Our server was really, really dumb. She didn't know anything about any of the wines, she forgot to put in our order, she never brought our salads, and she totally didn't put raspberry sauce on the cheesecake. The food itself was really good, though, and we had fun. I was full, tipsy, and tired, so I fell asleep five minutes into getting in the hot tub once we got back to the hotel.

The next day, we got up and headed to the Peninsula State Park. We spent a couple hours there. It was fairly crowded, but we found a few isolated make-out spots along the way. After the park, we went to the one place that makes up for the six-hour drive and all the touristy crap: The Red Putter. My brother and I discovered the place during our first trip to Door County with the parents when I was in junior high. I've stopped there every trip. When we took the whole family up for a (fiasco) vacation later on, a few of us staged a mutiny in response to all the antique shoppes and craft shows. I think we golfed at least 72 holes before someone came and collected us for dinner. I talked the place up to Josh, and it didn't disappoint. In fact, the cute old man that runs the place added a few updates since my last visit. There were some new gnomes and hugely oversized chess boards. I don't know why he wouldn't put in MINI chess boards out of consideration for the gnomes, but it's really not my business.

Thanks to the generous handicap Josh gave me, I won a solid victory. To get back some of his dignity, he suggested go-carts. Apparently, his was "broken" because I left him in the dust. I let him catch up a few times so he'd think he had a chance. During the final lap, his new hat fell off and was promptly run over by another driver. That pretty much ruined his afternoon. We played another round of mini-golf at a place called Pirate's Cove, but it wasn't even a fraction as cool as the ghetto-ass Red Putter.

That night, we watched some of the worst officiating ever during the ISU/Nebraska game. We got some takeout so we could watch the game. I wish we would've gone out or something, because that game did nothing but piss me off and make me drink a lot of beer. Josh doesn't like yelling, and there was a lot of yelling going on, especially on the touchdowns that the dickface refs either took away or didn't call. I'm not saying that ISU would've won, but it would've been a much better came and my husband wouldn't have been so terrified.

The next morning, we headed to Green Bay. Our hotel was less than a block from the field, so we parked and headed over after a quick stop to buy overpriced Packers t-shirts. I actually look really cute in mine, so I'll probably continue to wear it, despite my dislike for the team. We found people selling tickets really easily, but a lot of them had 50 yard line seats or other stuff we couldn't afford. Finally, we found endzone spots fairly close to a corner. They turned out great. Lambeau is a really small field, so I'm sure almost all seats are good.

Two pieces of pizza, a bag of peanuts, a couple bottles of water, and six or so beers later, the Packers lost. It was a really good game, though. Stupid Favre fumbled on the 20 yard line with 30 seconds to go. They were only down by three points, so they at least could've tied it. I suppose then I'd have to sit beer-free through the overtime (dirty commies stop selling beer sometime in the 4th quarter), so maybe it was meant to be.

After the game, the town sits around and drinks. I was amazed at how hard people were partying. First of all, it was a Sunday night. People were supposed to work the next day. Although, maybe in a town like Green Bay, you get "hangover days" on top of vacation and sick time. And, hello? They LOST! Even I could've held onto that ball that stupid Favre fumbled. We just went for a beer and some people watching. We worked on our Green Bay accents until some of the locals started giving us dirty looks.

It was tough to sleep with all the naughtiness outside the hotel, but we took naps before dinner. There was really nowhere to eat on a Sunday night, so we went to a Boston's. The meals were okay, but the pretzel coated mozz sticks were out of control. I've never been more excited about fried cheese in my life. When we got back to the hotel, it was after 9:00 and people were still hanging out and tailgating. The game had been over for a full six hours, and these crazy bastards had probably started at daybreak. "Eh, we'll get 'em next time!" "Ooooh, you betcha!"