Woooo

Y'all, I did it. I blogged every day in the month of November. I'm like the mailman except replace 'through sleet and snow' with 'through vodka and girl drama'. Other than that we're identical.

Tonight I went to a friend's place to help her put up her Christmas tree. It was just as it should be, meaning the men did all the work and the womenfolk sat and watched whilst eating cheese. I did stand up to hang approximately 10 ornaments but then I realized I was upright and had been for more than 5 minutes so I had to sit down again. That was pretty much the only physical activity I have had all day, unless contemplating going to the gym and instead napping counts. It's been that kind of weekend. Which is honestly the kind of weekend I support and think should happen every day.

Pray For Me

Tonight I am going to brave the mall. Not for any reason as noble as 'buying gifts for others'. Ha. No, no, I am in search of cheap jeans and also like to laugh at the crazy shoppers. I am dragging a friend with me and we will sit around, sip hot chocolate and mock Angelinos. How will this differ from other weekends, you ask? This weekend I am full of turkey.

Thanksgiving Part Deux

Tonight I hosted Thanksiving, Part Deux. What this means is that everyone brought their left overs, we ate them, and then we got very very drunk. Because of this I now have at least 100 pictures of my cats and a decorated a Christmas tree. We are now watching Die Hard, a Christmas classic, and are drinking more of the wine. But because I am a masochist and dedicated to this whole blogging every day thing, here I am, wine glass in hand and giving you an update.

Side note, I am such a fucking girl, it needs to be stopped. Today I watched Christmas movies on ABC Family and cried. Seriously, someone needs to punch me in an ovary. Or at least be here to make fun of me when I watch bad made for TV holiday film. Preferably the second of the options as I bruise like a peach.

Happy Thanksgiving

On this, the sacred day of gluttony, I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving. As a gift from me to you I will share the best text message I have received today:

"Happy Thanksgiving! 6 years ago today you ask me to pee on you at the parade because it was so cold! Here's to good friends, turkey and pee!"

I don't think I could have said it better myself.

Ringing in the Holidays

Today was a good day. I reconnected with an old friend and if that's not enough I then I sat around in my underpants eating tacos. If that doesn't say Thanksgiving I truly don't know what does. I live in up in the big city. Whew boy. Especially since I followed up the underpants/taco eating by napping. Oh yeah, it's getting crazy up in here. Then, THEN, I put up a Christmas tree which was very exhausting so I had to replenish my energy with cookies. I also ate those while sitting around in my underpants as that seems to be a theme in my life. A theme I am very fond of and then tell strangers about on the internet.

The End of the World

Water fell from the sky! In Los Angeles! I don't know if you've heard of this phenomenon but I hear it's called 'rain'. I don't know if I believe that, but it's what the kids on the street are whispering about in reverent and hushed tones.

Seriously though we had Weather, capital W. In fact before the Weather hit we had the clouds. Clouds! I had missed them so! I even had to put the flip flops away and wear my long forgotten Converse today. It was weird and my feet are confused. Not as confused as my cats however, who keep looking out the window and then back at me with an expression that can only be described as 'are you fucking seeing this shit?!'

God I missed weather. I have missed clouds and fall and rain and scarves. It's rather depressing to have sun every damn day. But! It will be cloudy and rainy for the next 3 days. Three whole days of Weather! It's almost as if the universe is somehow apologizing for it being 99 degrees on Easter. This year Thanksgiving will feel like it's located in fall instead of the dead of summer. I won't need to run the AC because I am roasting a turkey. And this? Makes me ungodly happy. Until it is again unbearably sunny and potentially 80 degrees on Christmas day.

Now excuse me, I have to go take pictures of the 'rain' so one day I can tell my children that yes, it's true water falls from the sky, here's the proof.

Quote of the Day

I have a cold (cough, cough) so this will be short and sweet as the NyQuil is kicking in and I have about 3 minutes before I am face planted on the keyboard. Last night I had some people over for dinner as is the new Sunday tradition. Afterwards we all sat around talking about just how badly 2008 sucks. We compared war stories and railed against the atrocities that 2008 has rained down upon us. Trying to find the light I said:

'Well on the plus side 2009 will only have 20 days of GWB'

At which point my friend said in total earnestness and very loudly, 'Yeah, and the next day Lost starts!' We all slightly cocked our heads to the side, having been caught off guard. So my friend shrugged and said 'it's a really good show'. And then we laughed at her for an hour.

This is why tequila is included in all new Sunday night dinners.

My Liver is Angry

Last night I had many, many key lime pie martinis at a truly wonderful house party. As I had made said martinis I know exactly how much liquor was in each one. And that, was a lot. A LOT A LOT. That means that today my liver and essentially my entire body is incredibly angry with me. Especially since I just drank a beer. Oops? On the plus side all of the liquor drowned out the extreme girly drama of the night. Drama which resulted in the girly tears and the eating of many cookies, because again, I am a girl and cookies are like Prozac. And also, go well with beer. See how that went full circle?

And now it's time to decompress and prepare for Monday and the potential of more drama fall out. Super fun times people, super fun times.

Wow, Just Wow

Can I just say how incredibly grateful I am to the Arclight Theaters in Hollywood? Not only do they have reserved seats BUT, most importantly, they have an awesome bar wherein they introduced me to pear kamikaze shots. The girls couldn't finish theirs so I did. This was an incredibly important and wise decision as it made the movie Twilight not only tolerable, but the best comedy of all time. While I would still do dirty, dirty things to Robert Pattinson, the movie was just... well... it was as if someone mashed together the 1960's Romeo and Juliet and a really bad Lifetime made for tv movie. It was Showgirls funny. Unintentional but amazing. It was bad and yet I can not wait to own it so I can watch it over and over again after returning from a bar OR when ill and hopped up on DayQuil.

Ok, now I'm off to a party where I get to do my impression of Edward again. It's really stellar, I assure you.

I Swear I'm An Adult

Tonight I am going to see Twilight. Yep. I am. I am 28 and going opening night and I bought my tickets 3 weeks ago.

On the plus side the theater I am going to has a bar. As I will more than likely be the only one in the theater who is of drinking age (besides my companions of course) I plan on drinking even more. The vodka will drown out the screaming tweens.

That Was Interesting

Yesterday I went to an event that I would classy as very weirdly cool. And then 10 minutes later I classify it as just weird. I go back and forth depending on how hard I think about it. Basically I watched a 1930's macabre Cirque Du Soleil act in a bar.

See, I've never seen Cirque Du Soleil live but I've seen video of it. It looks fun and not really in your face creepy. More interesting and bizarre from afar. When you're in a bar it's not so much, know you, afar, as it is two feet away from your face. So when a man is dressed like a monkey, swinging another guy with a bejeweled belly ring on a rope right next to you, it's well, a bit awkward. Especially when the monkey man makes eye contact. Do you smile awkwardly? Well, if you're me, yes, that's exactly what you do.

And then, if you're me, you contemplate what the monkey man tells his parents when he gets the job. Does he call them excitedly and talk about how he gets to dress like a monkey and crawl around a bar on all fours and smack the floor with his giant monkey hands? Does he brag to his friends? Are they envious of his monkey gig because it's a paying acting job? Or do they silently mock him and leave bananas in his mailbox? (Hint, I would choose option B) These are the things I thought about while clutching my martini whilst a strange man carrying a torn umbrella and walked in pointe shoes and pretended to sniff me, because it's all part of the show.

Sometimes my life is weird.

Because I Can

Kids, this week has been rough. There has been stress and cat scratches in no no places. Ergo, my brain has truly melted and I have run out of words. Tonight though there will be vodka and I am hoping the words return. Until then, please enjoy the tune that has been stuck in my head for 2 days and counting.

Routine

I am a creature of habit. An extreme creature of habit. I have a routine I follow in the morning when I am not yet fully awake/human. When the routine is in any way altered it throws everything off. It's as though I have been spun around 100 times and then asked to walk a straight line. It's super fun. But without this routine I literally could not function and would be even less of a morning person than I already am. Roommates in college knew not to speak to me for at least an hour or they would be met with death glare, level 4. It's not pretty. But I digress...

This morning I was getting ready when my blackberry rang with a work question. I was forced to speak, look up an answer and make my brain function. Hello wrench, meet carefully constructed plan. The 2 minute call resulted in me getting in my car and wondering why things were blurry. I started to pull out when I realized I had forgotten my glasses. And my purse. And was wearing my pajama top.

Seriously kids, I'm a winner. A winner in, ironically, an 'it's not my job mon' tee shirt.

Mmm... Relaxing

Imagine if you will a girl who has had A Very Rough Day. There was chaos and projects that fell down and went boom. All this girl wanted was a night of relaxation and Gossip Girl, because although the girl is 28, she fucking loves her some Chuck Bass.

The girl pours a glass of wine and draws a very hot bath, climbs in and begins to feel her shoulders come down from their current resting position up near her ears. A cat appears by the side of the bath, peering in. He seems confused by the human submerged in water. But! Oh! He's thirsty! Why not put his head in the tub and drink? And while he's at it, why not climb up on the side of the tub to get better leverage on that tricky water. I think you see where this is going.

My cat fell in. That seems to be the theme for the day, things fall down, go boom and then I get to clean up after it. I now have scratches in very odd and very uncomfortable places.

On the plus side, I got to watch Gossip Girl while dressing my wounds. Monday can suck it. Viva Chuck Bass! Viva Neosporin! Pass the wine, please.

The Concert: A Recap

So imagine if you will a crowded concert hall. Within this hall are many, many unwashed hipsters. In the epicenter of that mass stand Liz and I, clutching our vodka. We had come prepared, she was wearing only wood jewelry and I was wearing a scarf. It was our offering to the hipster masses, our vain attempt to blend in. But, as we had A) showered in the last week and B) not wearing hemp we kind of stood out. The concert began and we forgot about the sea of idiots and started singing along. Then... well, then we got overtaken by assholes.

The concert was standing room only and PACKED in. We had about 2 inches of space to breathe in. The people who wedged themselves in front of us apparently were unable to judge distance. They thought they had yards... yards and yards of space in which they could fling their bodies about in what I can only assume was 'dancing' but more closely resembled 'blind moose humping'. Seriously, one of them thought she was bringing sexy back by what can only be described as air humping WITH ONLY HER SHOULDERS. We stared mouths agape. There were truly no words. Finally, when the one in the inappropriate lycra dress (side note, honey, if you wear a size 14, lycra should not be in your vocabulary) began a violent jumping/ rocking motion complete with arm flailing and smacking into me and all around us repeatedly, words found us.

Liz: What was that toy... you know... the ones that wouldn't fall down?

Me: Weebles. They wobble but don't fall down.

Liz: Yeah. That one. I think she may be a mentally challenged Weeble.

Me: Liz, be nice. You really shouldn't disparage a beloved childhood toy like that.

Liz: True, I apologize to the Weebles.

Then, things got even better. The Weebles friend came over and during a very beautiful love song in which the entire audience went completely silent in awe, began to talk. Loudly. In a poor impression of Fran Dresher on helium. Apparently she had talked to the security guard and he told her there were only 3 songs in the encore, only 3, and since this was the third of the only 3 song encore, they should get ready to leave to beat the crowd because not everyone knew that there were only 3 songs in this 3 song encore.

Yeah.

It was at this point that Liz looked at the Weeble and asked of her friend 'Is she fucking retarded?' We got dirty looks. Well, as dirty as hipsters can muster. But, they stopped rocking and moose humping and one of them had wet eyes from unshed tears.

And this my dears is why I love Liz and want to take her to all concerts I go to.

Girl's Night

Tonight is girl's night. Meaning, I will soon have 8 chicks crammed into my tiny apartment each clutching a bottle of vodka. Last girl's night I had ended with me falling asleep at 5AM, waking up at 7, putting on pants and then realizing they weren't mine. All I can say is I hope tonight is not nearly that tame.

Oh and tomorrow I will post about the hipster concert Liz and I attended last night. In case you were wondering where all the dude's wearing tight pants and scarves were, well, they were with me at the Mason Jennings concert. If I didn't love Mason's music so very much I would not have gone within 100 miles of the venue. But, I braved the patchouli laden air and made it out alive. And Liz only made one girl cry. A very successful evening.

I can't embed the Mason video, but go here and check it out. You're welcome.

A Scene From the Day

While walking out of the office with a coworker

Him: Where's your coat?

Me: Um, home, in my closet?

Him: You're going to freeze!

Me: A) It's like 20 feet to my car

Him: (cutting me off) Yeah, but you have to walk to your car!

Me: And B) It's like 72 outside. Maybe 70.

Him: (looking at me like I'm crazy) Yeah. Cold. (under his breath) crazy girl

He then put on his scarf, zipped up his coat and walked off. And for the record, it was 76.

Tonight

Tonight I get to put on a fancy outfit and go to an open bar event. I have resolved to only have 1 drink (I'm driving) and to not make out with any very young, very inappropriate boys. Then afterward I will make Liz eat cheesecake with me. This will be my reward for making it through an event without ending up with a stranger's tongue in my mouth, something I have not been successful in doing recently. But as this is a fancy adults kind of event that's more than likely not going to happen anyway. But with my crazy misfiring mojo, you never know.

Edit:

Yeah... work exploded. EXPLODED. So I was in the office past 7 and missed the event. So instead of flirting and drinking free booze I got home at 8 and had a cat fall asleep on my neck. Woo. Hoooo.

A Wee Bit Different

My mom and I are easily the most different people that exist on this planet. In her house everything has a place and that item is always in it. In mine? I basically gather all of my belonging in my arms, spin around while tossing them in the air and go 'wheeee'. She's quiet, I don't shut up. She's a mildly uptight banker and I make things pretty for a living and then go to the acupuncturist. She wants order and cleanliness at all times and I, well, I want a monkey. You catch my drift. One thing about her however rubbed off. That one thing is that fact that today, November 12th, I finished my Christmas shopping.

And I am behind schedule.

In fact around 10AM when I realized the date I had a panic attack realizing that I still had 3 people left to shop for. Let's just say that the crazy has reached new, epic levels. So I utilized my greatest skill in life, internet shopping, and got to work. Within an hour I was done, all shades of proud. When I called my mom on my way home to brag that I finished it up, she remarked that she has been done since the end of September. Bitch. Next year I start in June.

Now excuse me, I need to go put on a tiara as I am already in my pajama pants and this outfit is missing something.

My New Addition

I have a new addiction. That addiction is the show True Blood. The reason being is that this show is Twilight for adults (with dirty, dirty sex). The one problem is I do not have HBO. Ergo, I had to watch a True Blood marathon while at home. With my mother. My mother who has one great skill in life which is this: walking into the room only when there is dirty, dirty sex on TV. 45 minutes of dialogue? The woman is no where to be found. The second someone drops their pants? Well hello mom, welcome to the party. Let's just say it gets a bit awkward.

We are a WASPy family who participate the all American tradition of believing no one in the family has sex or knows it exists. In fact I contend that my brother and I were either delivered by giant storks or my mom got pregnant from a toilet seat. This tradition of denial is hard to participate in when there is a naked blond dude having doggy style sex on the 42 inch plasma. Silence descends. Someone says 'oh my!' with a midwestern accent even though we are in Arizona. Then someone else reaches for the remote desperately hitting the last channel button, hoping against hope it will take us to a different channel where everyone is wearing pants. After a few minutes of watching (inevitable) the Food Network, my mom will shuffle out of the room and I will go back to my awesome prime time vampire porn. We will repeat this vicious cycle until the episode is over and I have only seen about 5 minutes. But those 5 minutes? Awesome. Because hello, it's graphic vampire porn with southern accents. And that is totally worth the fact that my mom and I can no longer maintain eye contact.

I'm Moving to Kansas

Dudes, apparently all the hot funny men are kept in Kansas. I discovered this today through the miracle of Ebay. A friend of mine is looking for an ugly reindeer Christmas sweater. As I am a master Googler I found one for him on Ebay. After sending it off I realized that not only was the dude in the picture hot but also funny. If someone can stage a Christmas themed photo shoot all to sell a sweater to strangers, well, then I need to date that person. I sent this to Liz and she said 'oh, he's in Kansas, that makes sense.'

Excuse me? Who knew that Kansas was the one stop shopping place for available attractive men? Not I. Had I known I would have gone there instead of Costa Rica. Sure in CR I drank my weight in beer and looked at pretty things, but in Kansas? I could have had a steak and left with a boyfriend. A boyfriend who stages photo shoots with fake Christmas trees. And then all would be happy in Meghan land.

A Scene From the Day

Sitting on my mom's couch this morning at 6AM, getting ready to hit the road. Her dog jumps on my lap, excitedly.

Me: Mom, why is your dog attempting to put his tongue in my mouth?

Mom: Because he loves you and wants to express himself in a physical way.

Me: (Pause) Why do I suddenly have 'Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon' stuck in my head?

Mom: You two make a lovely couple.


And then I drove back home.

Things I Have Discovered

1) The entire state of Arizona is on sale. Seriously. Got a dollar? You can get a house, a taco and probably a new pair of pants. I have purchased many, many items that I will haul back with me along with my newly clean laundry.

2) Oreos taste good.

3) You can eat Oreos while on a Wii Fit.

4) I still don't understand boys. On Monday I got an email from a gentlemen caller asking me out for drinks. I responded with availability. NO RESPONSE. Did he get eaten by a tiger? Fall in a ditch? Or just ask me out to see if I would say yes and than ran away while giggling to himself? My brain, it are the confused.

5) Yes, I understand the idiocy of being unwilling to take my laundry 5 blocks but being totally willing to drive it across state lines. However, my mom is across state lines and she does the laundry for me and leaves me alone to eat Oreos. I think I just made my case.

Greetings From Hell

Wow. Just... wow. I have returned from my brother's play and may or may not need to swallow a whole bottle of cyanide. It seems the theatre director (who was mine in high school as well, but that's a story for a different time) picked the worst, most depressing play of all time. Which is great, you know, because the world is so happy as it is. Dudes, I just spent 3 hours trapped in a theatre while teenagers pretended to burn to death. AND MY MOM WOULDN'T LET ME BRING A FLASK. I think that is considered child abuse in most states.

On the plus side my family's Wii Fit is now kept in my old bedroom. Meaning that I can pretend to exercise to my heart's content. In fact I just did a round whilst eating peanut butter M&Ms, just like Jesus intended.

Do we know how to party or do we know how to party?

Good Times, People, Good Times

Tomorrow I have the pleasure of getting up at 5AM so I can drive home through the desert to see my brother's high school play. Jealous? Maybe if I am good afterward I will get to go to Applebee's so I can indulge in their reverse happy hour and $2 chicken fingers. Man, I freaking love the suburbs.

As I am lazy and have apparently reverted back to college age I am hauling all of my clothes home with me to wash. You see, my washing machine isn't located in my apartment building but rather 5 blocks away. This means all of my clothes are very, very dirty. It also means I am almost out of Febreeze. ( Gentlemen, the line starts to the left.) On the plus side, since I am by all accounts 21 again, I have no problem making out with strangers in bars. Oh and can drink myself sober. That's not just an urban myth, kids.

Alright, I am off for my exciting weekend in hell. I'll be blogging as well, there is little else to do there, and I am attempting to do NaBloPoMo wherein I post everyday. You lucky dogs you, that means daily posts about my boobs and shenanigans. And cats. Can't forget about those furry little fuckers.

Yesterday

Yesterday was both awesome and horrible. It was amazing to witness history, truly beyond words. A friend and I split a bottle of wine and danced around my apartment in the dorkiest way humanly possible. Then the news came on that Prop 8 passed and the wind went out of my sails. I don't really have much to say other than: way to be America, epic fail California. On the plus side immediately thereafter I got a text message that made wine come out of my nose. It read: "There is a sign up sheet to move Bush out of the White House. I signed us up for the 3 to 7 shift." This made the day easier to deal with.

In other news I would very much like to stop being emotionally firebombed by the universe. Got some news about an ex the other day, he's happy and has found new love. I? I have found vodka. Lots and lots of vodka. Then today summer fling decided that since I was nice to him the other day when we accidentally bumped into each other that we are now friends. Got a surprise IM from him today. That was super fun. What the fuck world? Did I run over your puppy? Hit on your prom date? WHAT DID I DO?

All I can say is that the world better start behaving and fix this crap-tacular behavior. I will accept a pony or hot boy as a token of the world's affection. I think it would make us even.

Vote!

This morning I stood in line to vote at 7AM... two people in front of Fred Savage. Mr. Wonder Years did not seem happy to be up early and was rather cranky. I don't think Kevin would have behaved like that, Fred, so buck up. I also stood behind a woman who was 85 if she was a day. In one hand she had her cane and in the other was a list of all the props and how she was going to vote. In very neat handwriting next to Prop 8 she wrote NO and underlined it. I wanted to hug the stuffing out of her but refrained as well, I didn't want to hurt her. She was wee.

And on another note, I have been nominated again for humor blog. So do me a favor and vote? I am uber-competitive (no...you don't say!) and although I know I won't come anywhere near winning I would like to finish out of the bottom 200. Word.

http://bloggerschoiceawards.com/blogs/show/32124

The Worst Day of the Year

Today has been bad for many, many reasons. It has made me want to hide under things and weep (whilst drinking). And internet, it's going to get worse. Why you ask? Because on the first day after we move the clocks back all Angelinos forget how to drive. No. Seriously.

There is a mysterious thing that happens when people are forced to drive in the dark for the first times in a few months. It's called Fucking Utter Chaos. People, I need battering rams for my car. It's the only way I am going to get through this. Last year when this happened my office was located 1.1 miles from my home. And yet? It took me almost 30 minutes. Now that I am 4.5 miles away I fear I may not see my house until tomorrow. They drive with one foot firmly on the brake while looking around them, panicked expressions on their face. It's dark! How can they humanely be asked to drive without the sun? I know, with their eyes closed.

Hold me. I'm afraid.

Oh and totally off topic, go out and rock the vote tomorrow. And if you live in CA please, please, please vote no on Prop 8. I have a lot of friends who are deeply in love and deserve the right to marry. My heart bleeds for them when I think they may be denied that very human and basic civil right. (stepping off soap box)

Not Cool

Yesterday at a party there was a gentleman caller ALL about yours truly. Arms wrapped around waist, flirtatious whispers in ear and kissing on top of the head. The party was winding down and he tried to invite himself back to my place. It was tempting as he was adorable but I said no. We kissed good bye and I stepped outside thinking that wow, that was a fun night. This is when my friend came running up to me. It seems she had just found out that adorable boy is a douchebag of epic proportions and is married. Luckily I had 3 friends significantly more sober than I who held me back from going crazy white girl on his ass or at the very least hurling my giant shoe directly at his head. Not cool, dude, not cool.

It seems as of late I am only attracting vastly inappropriate boys. There have been other boys who have been adorable and unmarried, but they aren't interested. We flirt, we banter and then... we part ways. End scene. I don't know what the hell is going on with my mojo and the massive misfirings but I am hoping that the cure for it is vodka applied in liberal amounts.

Halloween, The Last Leg

Halloween for me this year has been approximately 2.5 weeks long. For the first time in my life I have actually enjoyed it. I did not however enjoy my costume. This may be because it was a prom dress from the 80's with massively uncomfortable boning and a giant bow on the ass. That look doesn't exactly scream 'hey fellas, I'm a winner'. So, earlier this week I came up with an alternate plan. On the way to buy said alternate plan I got my first ever traffic ticket. So instead of buying a new comfortable, awesome and sexy costume I went home, hid under my bed and called my mommy. This leaves me with two option: wear horrible dress and be in pain or cobble something together from my closet. I am choosing option 2. So, tonight, I am going dressed as something truly horrifying and evil. I am going as Jessica Simpson. I already have the two most important assets naturally built in, ahem, and I own a cowboy hat. That plus a picture of Tony Romo and a vapid expression and I am set. Although it's not exactly the best costume in all the land it's still significantly better than feeling like an extra from a poorly made White Snake video.

Wish me luck.