Trying hard to shake off the bitter defeat of the Native American Gaming Establishment, me and the Missus headed up nort' to visit Benjamin and Sherry Jenkel. We talked, stories were exchanged and flutes were played. Nothing too special, just me making a typical ass of myself for yet another weekend. The best part about it was that I wasn't at work.

I'm getting really sick of apologizing to people week after week for being such a knob, but this happens to be the case again. So, to everyone I talked to this weekend, I'm sorry I was such a knob. I had a lot of things on my mind (fireworks, cheese sandwiches and worry), but it's no excuse. All in all, this was almost the worst mini-vacation ever. The thing about vacations is, no matter where you go, there you are. Distancing yourself from your problems means nothing when your biggest problem is looking at you in the mirror, and wearing your pants.

Damn Smarch weather. This weekend it was 50 degrees, and now it's going to snow for 4 straight days, and peak at 25 degrees if we're lucky. The funny thing about Wisconsinites is that, at some point in late winter, we become completely defiant of the temperature and season. After being jerked around one too many times by Mother Nature, we collectively throw our winter coats into the backseat, and proclaim the start of spring. Sure, it may be just as cold as it was in January, but we get to the point where we just have to believe what we tell ourselves, so we don't chop our family up in the attic. It's a collective statewide temper tantrum, and I'm usually the first one to fall on my back and kick wildly into the air.

Today, I had an incredibly surreal experience at work. I overheard our Executive Assistant humming a song by The Arcade Fire. I flagged him down and asked him just what the hell he thought he was doing, and we discussed them for a few minutes (he said that "Funeral" changed his life, as it did mine). It may not sound like much, but it was a conversation I never in a million years thought I'd be having with this guy. BUY FUNERAL NOW!

Back to Smarch. This is my least favorite month. First off, it's completely endless. Towards the last couple days of Smarch, you become convinced that it may never end. The weather is going through a miserable transitional period, and you're never comfortable in your clothing. I bet there are more suicides in Smarch than in any other month. Makes total sense, because it totally sucks. I don't need scientific data when I start dropping the "it sucks" argument around.

The best part about Smarch is the end. The sun peeks through the clouds, and everyone finally knows that winter is truly over. People emerge from their cocoons, roll the windows down and listen to that one CD that really makes them happy. It's the closest I'll ever come to being reborn, and it happens every year.

Soon enough, Boycott Unity will be back for the attack. I know you're excited.

I'm back from part 1 of my mini-vacation already.

Why?



Because I suck, that's why. Someday, I'll realize that my luck is awful, and I'll never win a single thing at a Native American Gaming Establishment (NAGE). I hope the above picture captured my loneliness and frustration, because I was sure feeling it at around that time.

We arrived with stars in our eyes and shuffled around in bewilderment for a while, before settling down and getting into a mindset for robbing these fools blind. I had brought along a fist full of $20's, and I wasn't leaving until I had at least doubled my money.

My first stop was the "Mariachi Madness" machine, where I loaded it up with cash and swung for the fences.



19 seconds later...



That's a cash printout for 1 cent, and it was pretty much time to go home.

I cashed in my penny, and headed over to the arcade. There, I vented my frustration the only way I knew how.

I DANCED!




I rocked the DDR machine like it's never been rocked before. I was so dope, the dancefloor gots' blisters. The J-Pop was flooding my ears with full force, and I became lord of the Dance Dance Revolution! (The Missus may tell you that this wasn't the case. In fact, she might tell you that I looked embarrassing and sad. This is her opinion only, and should be taken with a grain of salt.)

The Missus was beginning to feel the weight of my failure, wrapped tightly around her pretty neck.



We managed to scrap enough money together to get a pizza. There, I contemplated jumping off the terrace. The Missus contemplated throwing me off herself.



I did some deep thinking. I mean, how stupid am I? I work hard for my money, and I was so willing to waste it on something that I knew wouldn't reciprocate. I looked forward to going to the casino for a week, and I knew damn well that I would just lose money and go home. I could have paid my power bill for the amount of money that I blew today. Then it hit me.

I had a responsible thought.

Why does responsibility always hit me after the fact? Why do I realize the error of my ways seconds after the mistake is made, and not seconds before? Most people think of me, and assume that I would be a compulsive and dangerous gambler. After this experience, I never want to gamble ever again. (Let's not forget my first gambling experience in Minnesota, where I lost more money in an hour than I make in a week.)

Screw you, Ho-Chunk Casino and Convention Center!

I wanted to get back at them. I wanted to do something to them that would hurt their heritage as much as they had hurt me. I wanted to disrespect them.



So I stood in front of their "heritage" mural, and had a picture of me taken making a call on my cell phone. If you don't understand why that's funny and offensive, that's probably a good thing. They may have my money, but I have their land.

Holy crap, that's really uncool. I'm just in a bad mood, don't send me hate mail or scalp me. See, the responsible thoughts always come a little too late.

It is pretty funny, though.

I was invited to a gathering on Friday, but I'm going to have to respectfully pass and lick my wounds until Saturday. Then, part 2 of my mini-vacation will start, and I'll spend Saturday and Sunday in Green Bay with the Jenkel twins. (See here for what transpired on our last trip there.) Of course, I'll take pictures and be in a better mood. Stay tuned.

At 4:30 tomorrow, my mini-vacation officially begins.

I opted to take a couple days off of work before our main receptionist gives birth to her third child. Once little "Ethan" comes out of the womb, yours truly will be manning the phones for 6 straight weeks. That's at least 30 days of me talking to people that shouldn't be the recipients of any sort of license whatsoever. Not only that, but my workplace has recently been the subject of some national news headlines and backlash. The next few weeks are sure to bring the media circus and protesters, and I'll be the first one they'll run into.

In case you're wondering what we did to deserve the attention, punch "Neil Noesen" into your favorite search engine, and form your own conclusions. I'm sick of hearing about it every day.

And with that, I'll never talk about work again. For a while. I've got a vacation to look forward to!

Here's the plan. On Wednesday night, we shall pay all our current bills and relax. On Thursday, we're heading out to the nearest Native American gaming establishment, where Celia will win money, and I will lose enough to balance it all out. Fun will be had. We may or may not spend the evening at the Native American gaming establishment hotel. I'm leaning towards no, considering how much money I plan to lose.

Friday will bring more relaxing and packing, for we're off to Green Bay again! On Saturday and Sunday, we'll be visiting Benjamin and Sherry for a weekend of whimsy. Pasta will be eaten, hearts will be broken. We'll come home Sunday evening, and I will call in sick until mid-April.

You can bet on tons of pictures and stories. I'll still be keeping in touch over the next 4 days, so don't go anywhere. I'll know.

Before I leave you tonight, I have some amazing news for MST3K nerds like myself. This comes straight from the source, Satellite News:

MIKE, SERVO AND CROW IN THE "CHEAP SEATS"
For the first time since 1999, Mike Nelson, Tom Servo and Crow T. Robot will make a new appearance on television, riffing the March 14th episode of ESPN Classic's "Cheap Seats" with Randy and Jason Sklar. The episode will air at 10 p.m. Eastern Time. Get those recording devices ready!

I don't know about you, but I've been waiting 6 years for something like this to happen. I know that "Cheap Seats" isn't really that great of a show, but I'd watch anything that had Mike and the 'Bots in a cameo appearance. I'm allowing Tom Servo to leave my home during the taping of this show, but he has to return immediately thereafter. I'm going to excuse myself to the kitchen now, I've got chocolate milk in the fridge that's calling my name.