Enagagement Party: Ocean City Style

For all of you who could not be with us at the Ocean City soirée celebrating the impending nuptials of the Blürg you were deeply missed. However you consider yourselves lucky to have missed the escapades that transpired on the mini-golf course the evening prior. Let's not dwell on discolored memories, but rather march forward with pride.

Day two of the Ocean City vaca was spent at the ocean. Having deemed my several year old bathing suit ill "suited" for the wild waves of the Atlantic, the first order of business was to purchase a new one. Luckily there is no shortage of swimwear merchants in the O.C. As soon as my mission was accomplished Jürgen and I took to the beach, and save a quick lunch we were out side until about 5:00 in the evening. We were joined by Stefanie for a time, but for the most part were left to relax on our own. I questioned this at times and even felt bad. "Where is your family?"
I would chirp, "should we go upstairs and help?" Jürgen assured me all would be well. That evening we both managed to clean up for the celebration. It should be noted that this lovely gathering took place on July 26th, which happens to coincide with Jürgs date of birth. No one seemed to remember this however as all focus was on 1) the wedding and 2) the crabs. You will notice our crisp white attire in the photo above....well that didn't last long. Some event photos
Peering wide eyed into the seemingly unending bushel full of CRABS! We really are in Maryland (we had three of these by the way)
The crab eatin' begins. Must have items to eat crabs: Corona with lime, newspaper, wooden mallets and clothes you do not care about. An ocean view is desirable but not required.
I'm gonna kiss you Crabby, I'm gonna kiss you and then I am going to eat you. Notice the change in attire. This did not occur due to any sort of stain making activity, but rather my astute sense of foreboding.
The carnage begins to pile up. Dave seems unphased.

The festivities continued for sometime and I got the hang of ripping apart the little buggers only to be rewarded with little meat. This is not a spot for the weak of heart. A strong will and constitution are necessary. A few hours in some of the ladies proclaimed they were moving the party upstairs to the fifth floor, while many of the gentlemen remained on the balcony. Jürgen and I stayed downstairs among the wreckage for sometime longer when Stefanie asked me if I would like to go upstairs to "see the condo her Aunt was renting for the week." I obliged and headed upstairs. As I walked into the unit I noticed something hanging over the sliding glass door, as I squinted in an attempt to decipher it I heard a rousing chorus of "SURPRISE!"

A surprise bridal shower! Amazing! I am a tough cookie when it comes to surprises as I usually figure out what is happening before it happens. Not this time. I was totally fooled and I am so happy that I was. Here are some fun photos.

I do not look cute in this photo but it captures the moment perfectly. Love the bride to be sash. It matched my outfit!
Another lovely looking (and tasting!) cake!
Thank you Judy for the incredible decorations.

The following are a series of possible expressions one can have while opening gifts.


No need to limit yourself folks!

Us again, in less white clothing.

I am regretting now that no one thought to take a big group shot of all the ladies! If any of you all have any photos send em my way and they will certainly be posted. For now I leave you all with this image.
Thank you all, it was an amazing party and an amazing shower!

...and then there was that time Jürgen humped a dinosaur

I guess you really can't say "Poor Blair." Though she really didn't get more than one full day's introduction to the area in which I grew up (actually, now that I think about it, I never really gave her a proper tour of my own house...errrrrrrrrm), she did get to spend Friday to Monday in Ocean City at my Grandfather's condo. So this sight-seeing and introductions trip became more of a vacation proper. Who's really complaining, you know?

We headed down to Ocean City (had to stop myself from writing down the ocean...or "downee owshun" in Bal'more speak) on Friday morning, July 25th and spent the better part of the afternoon introducing Blair to the frigid (surprising in late July) glory of the Atlantic Ocean and it's waves...of doom. She was a good sport, though she spent the majority of the time papoosed to my back, although she never would let me teach her to ride a wave.

We helped some assorted other Hoopers (or Dickerts as the case may be) in the immediate family move their stuff into the condo as we prepared ourselves for the greater question to come: Who Sleeps Where? Thankfully Blair was able to sleep in a bed that evening, though future arrangements were in doubt.

Once everyone arrived we laid out plans for an evening out of typical Ocean City fun: the boardwalk and mini-golf (don't call it "putt-putt" or you will incite much wrath). The crew consisted of my mother and father, Stefanie, Aunt Judy and my Grandfather....oh and the Blürg...don't forget them. In the picture above you also see my brother, Kevin, (in full military regalia no less) who joined us later as a nice surprise since he was in Delaware all week with his military obligations.

We began our trip to the boardwalk by seeking out those staple O.C. (don't call it that) treats: Thrasher's french fries...which, by the by, have really declined in quality over the years. Maybe it was because someone decided to buy the two of us the wheelbarrow size, but I've tasted them at a much higher quality in years gone by. We also ate some pretty intestine-challenging hot dogs as well, but that was to be expected. What next to do but really give your digestion a good swift kick in the...well...gut, but to ride the rides.

Every year the Pier part of the boardwalk, to counteract the fact that its only real attracting is the increasingly purple Ferris wheel, hosts some new and ridiculously expensive new ride. This year's version was a type of human slingshot. Two people strapped themselves into a steel ball and at the conductor's whim would be shot many feet up into the air where they would bungee about three sine waves (who remembers math, huh?) before slowly lowering you back to earth. I declined my father's offers to pay for Blair and me to go - not because I was scared, but because I thought the price was not worth the three-bounce maximum. He, however, took my sister and accepted the challenge. The following is what occurred

We watched their reactions on the little televisions standing to the side of the ride. Personally, I think it alters genuine reactions when people know they're being filmed in all their snot-flying glory below. But I'm just jealous I didn't get to go.

We walked over to Trumper's (I think that's the spelling) Rides, which are, in my opinion, the only decent rides on the boardwalk. We heard through the grapevine that someone's trying to buy these people out to build some hotel down there. We must stop this at all costs. Where would my summer be without the sinking feeling that maybe someone hasn't really made adjustments to these rides since the late 80's, while I'm tumbling over my ankles in the Zipper? What would I do without the Tidal Wave roller coaster reminding me what a migraine feels like as I plow into my headrest time and time again? I kid, but seriously, these things may be overdue for a tuneup. I think it may have only been the dulcet tones of Blair's screaming that kept my mind off the thought of one of the zipper cars hurtling into the night sky, unhinged and free at last. And yet somehow, when my brother arrived, we swindled her into getting on again. It may be dark in the photo but you should be able to make out Blair's true enthusiasm with the ride at hand.

After finishing off this leg of the trip with more O.C. (don't call it that) staples - Dolly's popcorn (sorry, Blair, I was wrong about them carrying cheese popcorn) and Dumser's ice cream - mom, dad, Stef, Kevin and the Blürg went to our staple family mini-golf course (everyone knows this one) on 70th with the dinosaurs outside and the underwater scuba world inside.

Kevin was housing all of us for awhile with repeated 2's, coming in under par just about the entire game, though Blair would like me to mention that she held her own the entire time. Shoot, she did much better than I did. Time was, where I would hurtle my golf club into some bush in a pre-adolescent rage, but those days had passed and now I handled my inability to excel at any sport, no matter how mundane, with grace and poise. Grace and poise which disappears completely in the event that I should ever land a hole in one...and I did.

If you've been to this golf course, and most of you Marylanders have to have, you know the large green T-rex that stands at the course facing Ocean Highway grinning his large come-hither grin. Well I, though there seem to be no apparent embankments to make this possible, landed a glorious hole in one. So surprised was I at my fortune that I hurtled myself headlong onto the thick part of this reptile's tail, and though my mind was asking "Um...hey there Pardner she ain't exactly saddled up there is she?" this didn't deter me in my decision to repeatedly hump the dinosaur. Not completely forgetting (amazingly) the company that I was in, I held my joy to three humps to keep it at that PG-13 level so as to simply embarrass my parents, not mortify them. In my defense...look what he was wearing. He was asking for it. And the grin was noticeable wider when I was through. The little stoner kids in front of us thought it was a riot.

Mom...Dad...I'm really sorry.

Other such incidents included...

Blair gets her ball stuck in the middle of the log, which is next to impossible to do. Sorry for the unattractive photo.

Blair gets her ball trapped under the Brontosaurus.And Jürgen unwittingly drops the pencil, though not his ball, into the blue family recreation water, which is just perfect for little kids to drink or pee in...or.....both....

Good night. I slept well. As for the T-rex.....