Happy New Year, Bitches

I don't know about you but I am doing a jig of glee. I am ready to slam the door shut, bolt it and wire it with explosives on 2008. This year brought heartbreak, a cancer scare and many other atrocities such as my hair dresser moving away. Sigh. But I have soldiered on and thus plan to ring in the New Year just like baby Jesus intended: in a bar with lots of vodka.

I wish you a happy New Year with this: may you find happiness, good health, good luck and a bartender that pours a strong drink.

Yee fucking haw. Don't let me down 2009, I've got my eye on you.

The Claw

I have many, many addictions in life. One of those is the claw machine. Here's the deal, I kick ass at them. No really. It's rare I walk away without a prize. This addiction however proved to me and my family that I should not be allowed in public.

We had just eaten lunch at a chain restaurant in Phoenix and were headed out when we spotted the game. I immediately reverted into a ten year old, hopped up and down then demanded quarters from my mother. With a dollar in change my brother and I hit up The Claw (oh yeah, I totally pulled him into my shenanigans). Two minutes later we had each won. My mom got caught up in the fever and fed me more change as I tried to win the matching gingerbread man. This is when things went awry. I was just about to grab it when a Sponge Bob toy shifted and totally cock blocked me. Forgetting where I was I shouted out, very loudly 'Sponge Bob fucked my shit up!'. This is when my mom gasped, cleared her throat and pointed to the family of 4 standing slightly behind me with their mouths agape.

I backed away from the machine, raised my chin with pride and muttered 'well, he did' because I am mature. Then I took my reindeer toy and went home. Sadly I don't think we can ever eat there again, which would be ok as the food sucks, but that's a damn fine claw machine.

Home Again Home Again Jiggity Jig

I am back in La La Land and remarkably happy about this. Here I have a comfortable bed, kittens and don't have to hear my mom say things like 'lubed up'.

Yeah.

The context of this was during dinner. We had all been drinking a little (or a lot) and I dropped butter in my lap. I drunkenly said 'oh man, I have butter on my crotch.' My mom literally lost her shit and laughed for a good 30 minutes. Later I asked her what was so funny exactly, perhaps the use of the worst word in the English language, crotch? She said no. It was the thought of 'well at least she's all lubed up!'.

Doesn't this explain so much about me? I think it does.

Side note, boys suck. You knew this however. But just a note to the fellas out there ( namely Chuck and GamerBri as I don't think there are any other dudes actively reading this here little blog) but, if you are not in a 'relationship-y' place, perhaps you should tell a girl this before bedding her and leaving her with 2 GIANT hickeys 20 minutes before her drive back home for the holidays. Just consider this a tip from me to you as it will prevent anyone from going white girl crazy on you and/or hating you from afar. On the plus side, I own many scarves and turtle necks so it all worked out ok.

They Grow Up So Fast

Yesterday my 15 year old brother and I were sitting around and listening to music. I played him a song by Amos Lee (The Arms of a Woman, seriously, go check it out, it will change your life). He nodded along to the music and after the song ended we had this conversation:

M: Pretty, huh?

H: Yeah... not as good as the song I just wrote though.

M: Oh yeah? What's it called?

H: All the Ho's in the House Get Crunked.

And then I my head exploded. So to get him back I chased him into the living room, pinned him down and made me look at my GIANT hickey (oh, did I not mention that?). Apparently when seeing my hickey he freaks out and his soul melts as it reminds him that his sister is A) possibly a ho and B) a person outside of the awesome sister role. After I figured his soul was completely dead I let him go and then ate a cookie.

This is how we celebrate Christmas in my house. It's a love fest kids.

Holiday Fun Times

Dudes, I have been blog slacking. My sincerest apologies. I was distracted by things, shiny things mostly, and thus forgot about this here little blog. However, I am now home for Christmas and am very, very bored. I love my home and my family, however it's not exactly action packed. It is the opposite of as a matter of fact. It's akin to watching paint dry. Really boring paint, not the glitter kind.

I tried to up the action tally by taking up jogging but discovered that jogging is really very boring. I don't know what exactly gave me the idea that it would be fun and a good way to clear my head, but all I can say is: no, it is not a good idea. Also the only 'thinking' I got done whilst jogging was 'ok, so this isn't hard... but sweet christ is it dull. With the up and down and doing nothing, I don't get it'. Literally that's all I thought for 15 minutes, so I then turned around, went home and went to sleep. I live on the edge.

Also keeping me occupied here, besides the never ending parade of pajama pants and cookies, is the fact that today I get to engage in some super fun times... online traffic school. That means for 6 hours I get to stare at my computer and answer such thought provoking questions such as 'what does a stop sign mean?' I was tempted to say 'hit the children in the cross walk' but decided against it. If you think I am kidding they also asked me 'what color is your hair'. Yeah. This is certified by the LA Superior Court. I think they basically look at Britney Spears, figure out what level of question she can answer and then up it a single notch. I could take this test drunk. Wait. That gives me an idea. I think it's time to break into the holiday vodka preserve. This party is about to get started. Buckle up.

Why Not to Shop When Sick

Yesterday I knew I had to drag my sick, sorry ass to work. I had the Important Adult Meetings wherein I would have to A) be in the office and B) not wear my snowman pajama pants. To do this there was only one solution: copious amounts of over the counter drugs.Ergo, I had an adventure in Target-land.

I went to Target with one intention and one intention only: procure drugs, ingest, leave. I stepped in and totally forgot that. Instead, internet, I tried on dresses. For an hour. Then I meandered around the store trying to recall my original intention for going. I know! I'll buy tuna! (side note, never in my life have I purchased tuna and I don't eat it, hate it in fact) I grabbed a can of tuna and thought, no, that can't be it. But, I'll buy it just in case. Then I wandered around some more and bought the following: plastic bags, a USB cable, a pair of gloves, 2 cans of tuna and a single Christmas card. I figured with this vast array of stuff I couldn't have possibly forgotten what I had originally come into the store for, right? I checked out and went to work, proud of myself for figuring out my Target needs.

Then about 10 minutes later I feel asleep on my desk. It was only after waking that I realized I was far too sick to be in the office and I had forgotten the Very Important Staying Awake Drugs. Also, that I was very late to work and napping on my desk is uncomfortable.

So let this be a lesson to you: if you must shop when ill, bring a list. Oh and don't try on clothes, because it will make you sad you aren't in pajama pants.

Ugh

I have a cold. Due to this fact I am acting like a petulant four year old and unable to blog. Instead I am Vapo rubbing my feet and bemoaning my state. I am a joy to be around, I assure you. Being as I slept 18 hours yesterday I am a wee bit better today and should be fully recovered by tomorrow (at least that's what I keep telling my body). Just know this, it's raining in Los Angeles and has been for the last 12 hours. All that can mean is the end is close. Kiss your loved ones.

because I am obsessed

I am writing this from my new ipod touch. And now you know where I've been all weekend... Crouched over my new obsession like gollum with a fucking ring. And I don't care. I am in love with it and am shouting it loud and proud. I've also been yelling at it to be a phone but I apologized when I sobered up. It's made our love stronger.

Yep

Internet, I am the inebriated. This is the way a half birthday celebration should be. Tomorrow is my office holiday party. There will be a martini luge. If you need Liz or I, look for the luge. We'll be the ones slightly to the left. With the empty glasses.

Because I Can

Today is my half birthday. I have decided that this year, at the age of 28, I am going to start celebrating this. Solely because then it gives me an excuse to sit around in my underpants and eat cake. If anyone dares to judge I will simple raise my middle finger and tell them that it's my birthday, I'll eat cake if I want to. I am hoping the half birthday idea catches on because then people will buy me presents. Specifically vodka. Or a real tiara. Regardless though, I am officially 28 and a half. Woo.

I am ready for my cake now.

The Greatest Gift of All

The best part of December are all the weird gifts I get from companies I work with. Generally there is no rhyme or reason and more often than not it's food. I once got a really large knit hat and that was the closest I got to anything that could be considered seasonal. However, today I got the greatest gift EVER. It's an old school metal lunch box and inside is the following: a coffee mug, fancy hot chocolate and... wait for it... peppermint Schnapps. Now I'm a festive alcoholic on the go!

It's like they looked into my soul and picked the perfect gift. Now all the need to do is send me a pony and I'll name my first born after them.

The Weekend: A Recap

- On Friday I went to Liz's house for girl's night. A friend of hers came over to join... and so we could wrap her in duct tape. As you know I have something of a sordid history with duct tape so I was a little bit weary. But, luckily she didn't want to put the tape on her bare breasts as she is far smarter than I. Instead she put on a tee shirt, covered her neck in Saran wrap and then had us wrap her up. Yep. The reason she did this is that she read in a book that this is the way to make a homemade dress form. It also makes for an awesome photo session. You really haven't lived until you see a French woman in a mini dress made entirely of duct tape, dancing and drinking wine. By the way the duct tape thing totally worked AND it didn't tear off her nipples. Again, far, far smarter than I.

- Saturday I went to a friend's 30th birthday party. I got to eat cupcakes and play air hockey, ergo it was awesome. Here's the deal with me, I am really awesome at air hockey. Really awesome. This may be due to the fact that I am insanely over the top competitive. The friend I challenged did not realize how seriously I take my air hockey. This was a grave mistake on her part and I think she may be afraid of me, officially. However, I totally won. Yay me. Also, cupcakes rule.

- And finally, today I got to see White Christmas on the big screen at a special screening downtown. If you ever have a chance to do this I fully recommend it. But try not to sit next to me as I squeal like a big ol' girl who loves her some Christmas movies.

That Was Interesting

Today I was so tired I forgot the word 'email'. I kept calling it an IM which really and truly confused the person I was trying to speak to. We mostly just stared at each other until I was like, 'you know, the one you send? With the words?'

Good times.

Apparently I need more than 2 hours of sleep. Who knew?

Irresponsible

Internet it is 2AM and I just got home. Being as I have to get up in oh, 4.5 hours I decided it was a good idea to not sleep and instead tell you about my life. I am incredibly responsible like that.

Tonight I went to a club on Sunset to listen to a friend's brother's band play. Generally I avoid Sunset as I am a giant nerd and they don't like my kind. I wear jeans and Chuck Taylor's. Sunset likes girls who wear spandex and giant heels. However, this weird little club was Nerd City, USA, and so I blended. I also drank many beers which helped the blending in and well, beer tastes good and it makes the cold outside more tolerable. You see it was in the 50's and in LA we categorize that as 'arctic'. Ergo I am a smidgen drunk at 2AM on a Wednesday, but I am toasty warm. Excellent trade off says me. And again, incredibly responsible. I can't stress that enough.

Before I went to the club to drink of the beers and listen to the music I went to acupuncture. This time was a wee bit different as she put needles in no no places. I am here to tell you there is nothing more awkward than having a slight Polish woman prod your pubic bone and then put needles in your bathing suit area. NOTHING. I could walk down Melrose naked and the acupuncture would still win the awkward award. However, the needles made me feel better, so again, excellent trade. Now if she only served beer in her office the night would have truly come full circle and I would have an appropriate way to end this blog. But she doesn't and she discourages beer drinking in general, so all I can say is yay music, yay needles in uncomfortable places and yay sleep which I will hopefully soon do.

Taggin' It Up

Dudes, I am having a Very Bad Day. I finally got word from the PoPo and my minor traffic ticket? 400 fucking dollars. Ergo, I am moving to a cabin in the woods, somewhere far far away, where I will hole up with a Tivo and my cats. Or, drink too much wine and cry at sappy movies. Toss up really. Until then, let's enjoy a survey as I've been tagged by Ms. Amanda.

Your Time Starts Now...

My earliest memory is... ok, so we are starting this on a depressing note but go with it. My earliest memory is the day of my father's funeral. I was 5 and played flying nun with my friend Lisa and our Cabbage Patch dolls. Then my grandma read me a book that explained death to me. Until that point I thought death was akin to a business trip wherein you got to wear suits, carry a briefcase and fly on airplanes. I like my version of death much better.

At school I... was a giant, giant nerd. Seriously. I wore overalls and had bangs.

My first relationship was...well my first 'boyfriend' was Shelby. We were 5 and he kissed me. Play on Playa.

I don't like talking about... ok, I've been staring at this question for 5 minutes and have failed to come up with an answer. I was going to put 'communists' and leave it at that. But, I like to talk and no topic is off limits. I know you are all incredibly shocked.

My mother always told me... to never get married and just take a lover instead.

I wish I had... a jet pack.

I wish I hadn't... eaten so much this weekend. My pants are remarkably tight.

My most humiliating moment was... oh, I have many of these. I fall. A lot. I walk into things. I would say maybe, when I was 10 or so, we were all on a houseboat and there was a deer on the mountain we were parked at. I ran in to the 'house' to get lettuce and someone closed the glass sliding door behind me. I ran full force into it, in front of my entire family and my 10 year old crush, resulting in a broken bowl and a concussion.

My happiest moments were... I have a lot of happy moments but the happiest I've ever been was living in Rome. There is a lot of pasta in Rome. You do the math.

At home I cook... often. I am secretly a 1950's housewife.

My last meal would be... So.Much.Pasta. And wine.

I'm very bad at... math. All math I have ever learned has been replaced by celebrity gossip in my brain.

When I was a child I wanted to be... a doctor.

The book that changed my life is... See, to a nerd like me this is like Sophie's Choice. I can't choose just one. Just know that if you ever meet me and ask 'what's your favorite book' you should probably bring a chair because I will bore you with book titles for about 2 hours. I like words.

It's not fashionable, but I love... Martha Stewart. There. I said it.

The song I'd like played at my funeral is... Hit the Road Jack.

Friends say I am... busty.

My greatest fear is... answering very private questions on the internet. Ok, here's a real answer, my biggest fear is never finding love again. Yep. I just dropped a whole mess of girly emotions on you. Just dab it with hot water and soap and it will come right out.

If only I could... go back in time and invent velcro. Then instead of doing surveys on the internet during my lunch break I would be flying to Sweden on my private plane.

The hardest thing I've ever done was... walked away from a relationship that wasn't right.

The last big belly laugh I had was... I laugh very easily but you know you've got me when I am doing the silent, shaking laugh thing.

What I don't find amusing is... George W. Bush

I'm always being asked... 'Do you do stand up?' or 'Do you have change for a dollar'

Cat or dog... really? Do I need to actually answer this or will showing you the 80,000 pictures of my cats suffice?

If I wasn't me I'd like to be... Tina Fey

At the moment I'm reading... Satanic Verses

My favorite work of art is...Starry Starry Night

My worst job was... Working at a Victoria Secrets in a mall right next to a retirement community. There were boobs. They were old.

I often wonder... if Madonna's arms can get any scarier looking

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.

I Make Bad Decisions

Last night I had another event. I swore up down and sideways that I would be home and in bed by 11:30. Which is totally why I somehow ended up on Liz's couch at 1 in the morning. I however think being in bed at 2 is totally comparable to 11:30, right?

The night started out with a bang when I ran into my summer fling. He is very, very bad for me for many, many reasons. I know this mentally. However, for the 2 minutes we were talking I was mentally throwing my panties at him. My body just has an insane chemical reaction when he's around. Ergo, I need to put a tracking device on him so I know when he's in a 10 mile radius so I can flee. I think it's a completely reasonable request given the TNT like 'relationship' we had.

The night also ended with a bang when I made out with a highly inappropriate boy in a bar bathroom. It's one of those HIGHLY inappropriate people that when I think about it now in the light of day I literally slap my forehead and go 'OH SHIT'. This has happened 3 times and I have only been up for 20 minutes. However, I was a very good girl and didn't let him come home with me. I get a thumbs up for that, right?

(head falling on table). Fuck. Bang.

Side note: happy Halloween y'all. My costume today is 'Hung over girl in a witches hat'. I pull it off quite well. It's because I commit.

Big City Livin'

Yesterday a homeless woman came into my office building and peed on the floor. A coworker of mine slipped in it. How was your Tuesday?

Oh and a side note, boys are stupid. Just putting it out there in case you had any doubts.

Excuse me while I go hide under the covers.

Recovering

Dudes, my weekend (sans boob tape removal) was awesome. Last night I had my first night in since last Sunday. And all I can say is, man, I am fucking old. My body hurts and all I want to do is climb into bed by 8PM and perhaps watch some Matlock.

Thursday, which I wrote about, ended with 3 whole hours of sleep. Friday I went to a cancer benefit that was an 80's prom. I rolled into my house around 1:30, in bed by 2:30 and up at 7 because my body hates me. Saturday...well...I went to a Halloween party, out to eat afterward (still dressed as a 1985 Prom Queen) and I got home at 4AM, had to wash the 80's out of my hair and then in bed by 5:30. Up at 8 because again, body = evil. Sunday was a 1920's costume party downtown which was amazing. I left at 11:30 as I was falling asleep on my feet, but the second my head hit the pillow I woke right up. Starting to see a pattern?

I used to be able to do this. Hell, once upon a time I went clubbing until 7AM, slept for 15 minutes and went to work for 15 hours. AND I WAS FINE. Now I go out for a few nights and I am increasingly aware of my need for sleep and pajama pants. This makes me sad, especially since I have to do it all over again starting on Thursday. Think they'll let me just sleep on the couch at the parties?

The Entry All About Breasts

Yesterday I attended a fancy dress 1920's party in downtown LA. For the event a friend of mine had given me a black ballgown. The issue with this ballgown, is well, that it's evil. You see, the dress has 2 strips of fabric in the front and nothing in the back. Ergo, it is not what we would call 'bra friendly'.

I went to Victoria Secrets and there they convinced me that the stick on bra would totally work. Around 6:30 yesterday evening I discovered that it totally didn't. I may as well have taken the $21, flushed it down the toilet, and then asked the universe to hold up my breasts for me. That would have been a far better use of time. However, I had guessed that the stick on bra wouldn't work, so I had a back up plan. And that plan? Duct tape. You know when your weekend to do list includes the line 'buy duct tape, tape boobs' that it's going to be an interesting time.

Twenty minutes later I had constructed myself a bra made out of tape. It worked! Sure, I couldn't breathe deeply and would have to tape the dress to the bra so that it wasn't obvious, but dammit, it worked. I felt like MacGyver, if MacGyver had boobs. Then about 2 minutes later my chest started to feel hot. Not just hot, but burning and itching. It was then that I realized that my skin, really just my boobs, was having an allergic reaction to the adhesive. This is when I made a very big mistake. Instead of removing the tape with soap and water like the internet told me, I just yanked the fuckers off.

Yeah.

I did.

Internet, it hurt. A lot. It was then that I ran around the house screaming and then called Liz. In her wisdom of all things stupid one could do to their body she instructed me to apply olive oil to what were formally my boobs. This would remove the adhesive and calm the skin. So I did it. I sat on my couch and rubbed olive oil on my boobs while crying and being stared at by my cats. It really and truly is a wonder I am single. But... it worked. The adhesive came off and my skin stopped screaming bloody murder. Sure, I now smelled like an Italian restaurant, but I was able to put on my back up dress and go.

Today I look like a burn victim and still smell mildly like garlic bread, but I have survived. But let this be a lesson to you all, regardless of how good an idea it seems, never, ever, ever duct tape your boobs.

Um....

It's 2AM and I just got home from a party. I am so fucked for tomorrow. Oh well. Good thing I am drunk.

Update:

SWEET CHRIST. I am the most hung over person in the history of the world. If you live in the greater Los Angeles area and want any red wine, I apologize, I drank it all. There should be a shipment next week.

Last night I went to a costume party at the Magic Castle. If you've never heard of it it's a super exclusive club and you have to be a certified magician to get in. So, of course I jumped at the chance to go as I am a nerd. And hello? Adults in costumes is hilarious, especially when combined with an open bar. The costumes did not disappoint and my two favorites were a group that came as the entire cast of Tropic Thunder (the Tom Cruise guy did the dance, it was genius) and the Verizon Network. They followed the 'Can you hear me now guy' all night and even waited outside the bathroom for him.

I would write more but the world is spinning and I need carbohydrates and water. Stat.

Ouch. So much ouch.

An Open Letter

Dear Los Angeles,

Hey amigo, long time no talk. I feel like now that we've hit the 2nd anniversary mark that we really know each other. We get the quirks and foibles and kind of roll with it. For example, I know that you will have bad traffic and stupid people and that sometimes it will take me an hour to get my car out of a parking garage. I accept this. However, LA, I feel you don't accept me. You KNOW I love Christmas and fall and that this is my secret dorky shame. You understand that the second there is a chill in the air I have an overwhelming urge to cover every single square inch with snowmen figurines and/or twinkle lights. To do this however, I require that damn chill. I can't get said chill when it's 95 fucking degrees outside on October 22nd. You see LA, I am starting to get really pissed off. I am essentially cheating on you LA, as I gaze at apartments online all day in places with seasons. Now, I'm not saying I want to break up for good, but my eye is straying. So get your act together, you idiot. I don't want to leave (moving is tiring) but... I can't deal with this bullshit much longer. There, I said it. Now come give me a huge you big nerdy city.

Hugs and Kisses,
Me

Now That Was Fun

Last night I had my first official improv show. Man, I need some more of that. It was awesome and the high I felt afterward still has not worn off. However, I would very much like to do without the nerves and the creepiness.

Before the show I was so nervous I wanted to alternately vomit or flee, sometimes both at once. The nerves didn't start when I arrived at the theater which would have been logical. No, they started around 11AM. Which meant I had to work while shaking, answer questions while shaking and generally not climb under my desk, while shaking. It's very difficult to be a Serious Business Person when all you want to do is weep and keep having visions of yourself peeing your pants on stage and running away in shame. Try having that in your head when you do a video conference call. People on the other end will repeatedly say 'are you ok, you seem... tense.' That definitely soothes the nerves.

All the shaking was not needed though as the show went really well. To celebrate the team went out for drinks afterwards which is when the creepy began. First there was a man who appeared to have spent the last year of his life in a scotch bottle. He took a liking to my friend and kept complimenting her in a very odd manner, but only after repeatedly rubbing my shoulders. Finally I told him that if he touched me again I would beat him with my shoe. Scotch man decided it was time to leave the bar. (I'm awesome). Then finally one of my weirder classmate (he was an Ultimate Fighting Champion for a living, let that sink in) had this conversation:

'You should punch me in the face. I love it!'

'Thanks, I'll pass'

'I bet you never punched someone in the face'

'That's where you would be mistaken. I punched an ex in the face after I found out he was cheating on me'

'So you like cheaters, huh? I'm a cheater. Don't tell my girlfriend (who was sitting 2 feet away). But you should give me your number, you know since you like my kind'

It was at this point he tried to hug me and I lit myself on fire and left the bar. Let me just, for the record, state that was the weirdest attempt to get in my pants ever. Because you would think he was joking and I say A) he's not that good and B) dead earnest. So, truly very odd. But, yay improv.

Costa Rica: A Recap

My head is all healed up and now a lovely shade of yellow-y bruise. This means I am ready, willing and able to recap my journey to CR: the land that tried to kill me via tree.

- As you know due to the acupuncturist prescribed diet I have been off the booze for a long while (with a brief 1.5 day relapse for my reunion). Well, I decided these rules did not in any way apply to my vacation. Ergo, I started drinking in Dallas and stopped well, one day soon. Let me tell you the only way to fly is inebriated. Especially when it's bumpy due to a storm over the Gulf of Mexico. The booze also make me very friendly and I invited the dude sitting in the aisle seat to come and club with us. Luckily my very wise friend was sitting in the middle seat and reminded me that A) we weren't going clubbing and B) NO. She's a very good friend.

- When we had called the resort to make arrangements to get there they told us that we would be crazy to drive it as their roads are horrible. Instead we opted for a shuttle bus. Dear sweet Lord was that the right decision as this was the 'highway' getting to the hotel:


Yeah. Not fun in a bus either. My ass... it are bruised.

- We rented an ATV there on a beautiful sunny day. We wanted to drive it to Montezuma and get our revenge there (we are nerds and this was funny to us). Also, the area supposedly has wonderful waterfalls and lakes. We took off with map in hand headed in the '2 to 4km' direction given to us by the ATV rental dude. ATV rental dude apparently is spacially retarded. We drove up every side road within a 6km distance and each and EVERY time either ended up at someone's front door or another resort. It was then that it started to rain. Neigh, not just rain, POUR. I don't know if you have ever driven an ATV with a scared girl on the back down an incredibly muddy road in pouring rain but let's just say it's a wee bit stressful. Especially when you realize that you are wearing glasses, you know, to help you see, and you can't see out of said glasses as they have become a rain water receptacle. I was however, determined to find Montezuma so we soldiered on for a few hours and then gave up, went to the beach and took some pictures. We then returned the ATV to the ATV dude and told him that Montezuma didn't exist and he was a liar. He laughed and set the gringos on their way. Upon leaving a few days later we drove past the road to Montezuma. It was not 2 to 4km's as insisted upon by everyone but 15. Such is life.

- Rain storms are awesome. You will see a lot of them if you go to CR in October. The people in the resort restaurant thought it was hilarious that my friend and I would get so excited when it rained. We explained to them that we live in LA and there is no weather here, only fake boobs and smog. Then we went swimming in the pool during a monsoon. I highly recommend this. Also recommended: doing yoga in an outdoor hut in a rain storm and reading in hammock during rain storm. We did this a lot.

- We got massages the first night at sunset. It had stopped raining and was beautiful, made even more so by the fact that the massage studio was basically an open air hut enclosed by white sheets. While laying there being rubbed I heard a noise. Not just a noise but a noise that sounded like a monkey fighting a boar. I tensed up thinking 'oh lord, I am going to have to run butt naked through the resort when that monkey and boar fight gets closer'. The masseuse seemed to not be worried so I figured she was accustomed to monkey and boar brawls and perhaps would distract them while my nude butt fled to safety. Afterward she explained that it was not a monkey and boar death match nor a dinosaur but a Howler Monkey. I was disappointed. But, on the plus side I heard the Howler Monkeys every night and in my head: Monkey Boar Death Match. It was much more entertaining.

And I'm Back!

I have returned from Costa Rica in mostly one piece. All I can really say is that it is the most beautiful place I have ever been and I urge everyone who is considering it to GO. GO IMMEDIATELY. However... when there avoid the zip lines. Take this from a girl who has done it and well, almost died. You see, I hit a tree. Head first. Thus, I have a lot of bruises, a scraped face and a mild concussion. I am truly lucky I got away without further injury and am so happy that I had decided to leave my glasses at home that morning. Also thankful it was the last day of the trip and all I had to do after that was hop on a plane and point my ass back towards California. Due to the injury I am not running at full speed. So instead of a full post today I will just put in some pictures and call it good. Hopefully tomorrow I will be feeling a bit better and can put the trip into words.

The beach at Santa Teresa:


Dogs avoiding the rain storm at the dock:


Best bar EVER:


The town of Playa Carmen:


Sunset somewhere over Belize:



View from the ferry:


Yoga Studio at the hotel:


Outside view of our suite:


The infamous zip line:


View from zip line:

Adventure

In approximately 30 hours I am boarding a plane headed to Costa Rica. I decided, oh, about a month ago that I needed more adventure and truthfully, a fucking vacation. Ergo, I combined the two and convinced a friend (i.e. said, wanna go?) to join me. So we will soon be zip lining through the rain forest, learning how to surf and lounging in hammocks for 5 wonderful days. As I am going to a remote part of the country I am more than likely not going to blog until my return to the states. Even if I have internet access I am going to avoid ye ole blog in hopes of fully relaxing.

So until then I will leave you with the knowledge that I called a pharmacist mentally challenged (with more expletives) while picking up my anti-malaria medicine. Liz was on the phone with me at the time and giggled a lot. I was glad I got to share that moment with a friend.

Catch you all in a week!

Yeah...

I currently have no voice and a head cold. What makes this extra super special is the fact that on Thursday I am due to get on a plane to Costa Rica to enjoy my first real vacation in over 2 years.

Say it with me now....

MOTHERFUCKER


My body best heal itself right quick or I am going to punch myself in the face repeatedly and go back to my only eating quinoa diet. Hear that body? GET TO WORK.

Wow, I Really Am A Geek

Exhausted does not even come close to describing what I am at the moment. I worked all weekend at a nerd convention and between the stress and the standing for 3 days straight and the stress I am an empty shell of faceless blogger.

On the plus side, I fully realize what a flaming geek I am now. See I work in a nerdy industry but have always been just slightly off to the side making fun of people. Well, this weekend I was the one they all made fun of. Why? What could have happened t do this? Well, I saw the stars of the documentary King of Kong in person, took a picture with the ref (seriously, watch the movie, so freaking good) and then saw one Marcia Brady walking around. All of these facts caused me to geek out in a really unbecoming manner and then clutch my chest as I realized 'Gasp! I AM a nerd!' A startling realization, I assure you.

But now, I am getting comfortable in my nerd-itude. But that may be the overwhelming fatigue talking. Now excuse me while I go make my assistant go with me to reflexology. Our feet hurt and I have to pay someone to punch me in the leg, it's been far too long.

An Open Letter

Dear Dude From the Grocery Store Last Night,

Dude. Seriously. You had 40 items in the 10 items or less lane. Not only that, but your 40 items were all booze or fruit that had to be individually weighed. Do you understand how close you came to death? Seriously, go back in time and look at that check out dude's face. That look? Was rage my friend. Didn't you see how that vein in his head throbbed when you started to argue about the price on limes? Or when you said 'oh crap! hold on!' and then sauntered off SLOWLY to go pick up a single lemon? I believe it was at that moment the bagger started sharpening his knife. But the closest you came to death was when you paid by check. Checks that you, from all appearances, you had never had to fill out before. Who doesn't know they have to date or sign checks? WHO? You my friend, you... aka the person that I am going to hunt down. Hunt. With a bow and arrow because that's hardcore, just like my hatred for you.

Hugs and Kisses,
Me

Captain Falls A Lot

To say I am a bit awkward and clumsy would be an understatement of epic proportions. This will come in handy when I am strapped to a zip line in the rain forest in 8 days, but I digress.

Yesterday morning I was dead asleep when my alarm went off. I finally woke up after about 5 minutes of it blaring 2 inches from my head and dragged my sorry ass out of bed. After 3 steps I tripped on air and full on face planted on the ground. My downstairs neighbor LOVES me. The thing about falling, not only falling but falling face first into laundry, is that even when you are alone you look around to make sure no one saw. It's even funnier when you are in just your underpants. When my cats finished laughing at me I dusted off and continued on with my day thinking it was a one off.

Cut to this morning. Dead asleep again, sleeping through alarm again. I wake up, carefully watching my feet. I think I am in the clear from falling again when I open a door, hit myself in the face with it and then fall down. This time I walked away with a slight bruise and bump on my face. Tomorrow I am putting money on the idea that a limb will just fall off.

This is why a camera crew should be following me at all times.

Ah, Fall

Yesterday it rained for 5 WHOLE minutes. What does this mean? It means that in LA we have experienced the entirety of our fall season. Next comes winter when we wear tank tops and eat outside next to heat lamps because it's 60 degrees. Then comes pilot season and then summer, again.

I really do like LA. Some could even say that at times I 'love' it. I like the fact that when I tell people that I am going to the acupuncturist and then the astrologist they just kind of nod and then say 'awesome'. Were I to tell anyone in New York this they would attempt to have me committed and possibly punch me in the face. I also love the proximity to my family and the fact that I can point my car east and be home in 5 hours or less, depending on how much caffeine I have had the level of lead in my foot. I do not, however, love or even really enjoy the weather. I miss seasons and layers. I miss leaves changing and waking up covered in blankets. These days I wake up and bemoan the fact my AC isn't strong enough.

I am just annoyed that it's the end of September and 90 degrees. I want the ability to wear a sweater, dammit. And not just because I am tired of being on a diet so I can fit into tiny tank tops. Ok, that's mostly it, but I would like a change of scenery mostly. A change that lasts longer than 5 minutes.

End petulant whiny post.

The Reunion: A Recap

My brain is basically mush from fatigue. Ergo, a quick recap with more to come later when I have slept more than 30 minutes in a row.

- I spent a lot of time talking to my 4th grade best friend. It was weird and yet awesome. She has a baby, which is not surprising as 95% of my class has a baby or was pregnant. She and I didn't speak in high school at all as she was popular and well, I was fat and angry. It was nice to catch up and made the entire thing worth it.

- Very drunk girl kept coming up to me and telling me how I used to be round and am no longer. I have been called many, many things in my life, but never have I been called round quite so often.

- Girl who was a pathological liar in high school is still a pathological liar. And they've gotten worse and decidedly less believable. We all know you weren't teaching kindergarten in Austria for the past 4 years. Also, your hair didn't 'magically' happen to get more blond with age.

- Bitchy girl from high school is still a bitch. However, she has not aged well. And, the best thing to happen EVER... her husband got kicked out of the reunion. Why, you ask? Because he peed on the floor in the bathroom. Class city, USA.

- It's possible to be hung over for 2 days after a single reunion experience. As I have mentioned I had given up the drinking as part of my acupuncturist cleanse. Ergo, the drinks hit me HARD and I am still in pain. However, I had more fun than expected, talked to some great people and laughed a lot. I am oddly glad I went and I didn't even have to punch anyone in the face! Although, I did make someone cry. More on that later.

Today

Today I hop on a plane and fly to the most whiskey tango high school reunion of all time. Ergo, I plan to spend the next 48 hours highly, HIGHLY, inebriated.

Take cover Arizona.

A Scene From the Day

There I am, curled up on the couch bemoaning my state as a human being, when my cat jumps up to cuddle. I think 'aww, he loves me and realizes I am sick' and start to pet him. Then I notice he smells. And that smell? Is poop. I turn him around and realize he has poop all stuck to him, and at this point he smiles and runs away.

You know, nothing is more fun when you have the flu than to be crouched on all 4 in your underpants chasing a cat while clinging to a stack of 'Girl's night out' napkins. Really, try it next time you are ill. It will add a certain sense of frivolity to your illness. Please note though that you must only be wearing underpants because that's what makes the scene truly come together. It also helps you acquire some new cat scratches in very odd and interesting places.

After I had cleaned up the cat I laid around thinking... 'oh lord, I am going to have to shave my cat's ass. Then I won't just be the girl whose cat is on Prozac, I'll be the girl who spends her time shaving cat's asses.' And then I took more medicine and went to sleep.

Cough Cough

I am sick (cough cough). I thought I had somehow missed the illness rampaging Los Angeles this go around. The last two weeks basically took down the whole city while I skipped by talking about how damn healthy I felt as I am awesome like that. Apparently once the germs got tired of torturing everyone else they all turned on me. So now I am on my couch, done with 3 out of 4 of the vampire books and bemoaning my state as a human being. Also, I bemoan the fact that I didn't buy book 4 when I had a chance thinking I wouldn't have time to read it. So now, with all the time I have on my hands, I am going to try and see if I can perfect mind control, thus making someone from Barnes and Noble deliver the book to me along with a pony. And chocolate.

I spend my time wisely.

The Weekend: A Recap

- Since Friday I have spent $60 on vampire books geared towards 12 year olds and I LOVE them. There is no shame in my game, at all. Feel free to ask me how I spent my Sunday night (hint: reading said books and texting people about how awesome they are)

- Also on Friday I went to the Hollywood Bowl to the Sound of Music sing along. It is hilarious and I highly recommend doing it next year if you are in LA. You will see me as my friends and I will be participating in the costume contest as apparently, a Sound of Music sing along just wasn't gay enough without a costume parade.

- Yesterday I went to a very fancy bar and it was lovely. On the way there, however, I totally almost died when a dude who was texting on his cell phone didn't see the light was red and just went on through missing our car by about 2 inches. Luckily my friend Kat has reflexes like an um, real cat, and slammed on her brakes while swerving. I now know how my friends react in an emergency. Kat- cool under pressure, Liz- screams very loudly and finally me- screams a stream of obscenities while waving right hand in a one fingered salute. Due to this experience wherein my life flashed before my eyes (recap: boring, lots of cheese) I decided to fall WAAAAYYYYYY off the diet wagon. The amount of carbohydrates I have consumed in the last 24 hours can not be calculated by modern science. This is bad for many reasons. One, my expensive acupuncturist will yell at me and two, I have my 10 year high school reunion in T-Minus 5 days and my ass needs to fit in some very tight and low slung pants. Perhaps the Carbohydrate Gods will take pity on my poor near death ass and process the bread, wine and candy as though it is lettuce? Doubtful, but I will continue to operate under the illusion that wish is possible until Friday when I will have a nervous break down.

- I topped off the weekend by watching Josh Groban rap on the Emmys. It was uncomfortable.

Today

Today I have discovered the following two things:

1) My shirt is 100% see through when hit with the right light. This 'right light' exists in my office, in my office bathroom and outside. I am very, very popular today.

2) I will give someone money to do weird things to my body. Like put needles in my neck. On the plus side needles in the neck really relaxes a person and brings forth a head buzz akin to drinking a half bottle of wine. I have already schedule my next neck needle session.

3) Bonus item: saying 'next neck needle session' is difficult, even when not said aloud and only in ones head.

I Hope the Prize is a Pony...

Or cake. Or a dude carrying cake and a bottle of vodka on a pony. Yeah... that one...

The Vice Squad

I am currently without any vices. I am a person who desperately needs vices as it distracts me from the problems of the world and/or idiots who need to be yelled at with large words they won't understand. Currently I am without the following:

- I don't do drugs
- I don't smoke
- There are no boys at all in my life, not even one to flirt with harmlessly, ergo, no boom boom
- I am not drinking alcohol (let that one sink in for a moment)
- I am not ingesting any of the following: carbs, sugar, caffeine

I am the hardest core Mormon an agnostic has ever been. Do I get the special magical underpants now? Those special magical underpants better arrive post haste and they better bring with them a giant doughnut filled with vodka.

Things I Have Learned

I am following my acupuncturist prescribed diet and... it sucks. If I saw someone eating sugar or carbs or God forbid a diet Coke I would leap on them and put my tongue in their mouth regardless of gender, age or marital status. Because of this I have sequestered myself in my apartment with my new bottles of very expensive vitamins and large doses of meat. It's better for society that way. Needless to say it's been an interesting weekend.

However I have learned the following:

- When you take away carbs, caffeine and sugar I am one very tired person and could technically be described as narcoleptic

- When someone tells you brown rice will give you 'shocking amounts of energy' you should punch them in the face because they are lying

- When one's diet is limited to 5 items (no exaggeration) it can make a person cranky and apt to cry when the Food Network is on

- And finally that if my acupuncturist doesn't start adding in new foods on Wednesday as promised, you will be able to hear me screaming from Newfoundland

Seriously kids, this has been rough. My brain is angry and unable to bring the funny. All I can say that after this little experiment I better be so healthy that they dedicate science books to me. Or they give me a pony. Whichever.

Fire Belly

Nothing says relaxing Wednesday night like laying in your underwear while a stranger puts needles in your feet. Let's just say acupuncture is interesting. Also, for this little post bear in mind I have a wicked high tolerance for pain.

The session began by filling out 20 pages of questions regarding my health. After talking them over the doctor deduced that I have too much 'fire' and need to completely change my diet. In doing this for the next month I will reduce what the fire feeds on and will feel better. Yeah. Ergo, my diet now consists of meat, soy and meat. Oh and more meat. Apparently fire likes the taste of flesh, go figure. After a month I can add things back in, such as alcohol. When she told me I couldn't drink for a month I sat in silence for two minutes. Finally I looked at her and said 'my 10 year high school reunion is in 3 weeks. If you think I am going through that sober then you may, in fact, be insane.' She then conceded that desperate times call for desperate measures and I am allowed to drink at the reunion. (thanks crazy needle lady!)

We finished discussing my fire and moved into the needle room. I dropped trou and climbed on the table as there is no shame in my game. The first 4 needles I didn't feel AT ALL. It was great. I thought it would be a breeze! Then she hit a nerve in my wrist. Ever get hit with a lightening bolt in your finger (metaphorically)? I have. It's not pleasant. Apparently my nerves are located in very 'curious' positions in my wrists as and felt around on the right side and still hit another one. Lightening bolt two. It wasn't crazy painful just surprising. Like getting punched in the hand. By a man who is made out of electricity. The only other needle that hurt was the one in my foot in the spot that controls the liver. I know, I am just as shocked as you are that my liver has been a wee bit overused. Shocked and awed.

Afterward she told me to go to a herbal store and buy placenta pills. Listen, I am 100% for getting needles stuck in me and causing lightening. I will even do the all meat all the time diet, but, BUT, I draw the line at taking placenta pills. I mean, a girl's gotta have a limit and some class. So I told her this, while standing there in my days of the week underwear. Then I pulled on my pants, went home, and booked a trip to Costa Rica.

It was an interesting day.

Logical

In my quest to try things I have always wanted to do as well as just in general feel better I have done the following: reflexology, thai massage, yoga and oddly, golf. Today I add to that line up and mix in a bit of acupuncture. Because nothing says relaxation like laying there while a stranger puts dozens of needles in your body and then charges you a small fortune for it. However, since I have already paid someone to punch me in the leg (reflexology) and then paid even more to get punched in the ass (thai massage) I think that this is the next logical step and truly the final frontier. I would very much like it if someone was there to take a picture of me looking like that creepy Hell Raiser dude, however I don't think that's allowed. Ergo, I will write about it on the internet for strangers. Man, I am a giver.

Hodgepodge

- I am having an excellent hair day. Thanks Universe. This however makes me sad as my hair lady is moving to NY. Damn you New York and your tempting ways! Who's gonna give me kick ass highlights now? Who damnit? Who? (no seriously, anyone got a recommend?)

- A friend and I are planning a potential trip to Central America. I am wicked excited about this for many, many reasons and am hoping it comes to fruition. However, there is one thing I am not excited about: planes with propellers. We are flying into the capital city but to get to the actual rain forest and beach area we would either have to drive 3.5 hours through treacherous Central American roads (seriously the hotel people on the website are all 'if you are crazy, you can attempt the drive), or we can fly 20 minutes on a plane with fucking propellers. Being as I have panic attacks on 747s I have no idea what my body would do when forced to deal with a tinker toy they call an 'airplane'. I am thinking vomit and hair loss will be involved. I'll keep you updated. Perhaps you all can send me a care package filled with Valium and M&Ms?

- Last night I went to an improv show. Man, I love me some improv. I especially love it on Mondays, which in general suck donkey dick due to the end of weekend and start of the stress and the work and the wearing of pants and having to dress/act like a responsible adult. However, improv following this type of Monday is an excellent cure all. Especially since there is a BYOB policy.

Mr. Stewart, Will You Marry Me?

An Open Letter

Dear Jesus,

Hey big guy.... I know that my actions last weekend kind of pissed you off. Big time. But did you really need to give me a flu like cold aka The Summer Plague? I mean, I've been really good lately. I hang out with the cats and have stopped yelling at people in traffic (at least loud enough for them to hear me). I think these actions should allow me a little fun. Ok, ok, a lot of fun. I mean, Jesus, you saw that guy, he was really hot. Like David Beckham hot. I feel I should be allowed, no, not just allowed GIVEN the chance to make out with gentlemen like this on a regular basis. Perhaps we can strike a deal, you send me a dude that looks like that but also has more than two brain cells and I will stop making fun of people (loud enough for them to hear me). And if you could also take away the horrible death cold I would be greatly appreciative. I would even bake you cookies. So, do we have a deal Jesus?

XOXO,
Me aka 'totally don't regret it... did you see his ass?'

That's Interesting

Since returning to LA I have talked to Liz and our unnamed cohort many times. In each conversation I learn a new detail of our trip that I have conveniently blocked out. (read: too much vodka). Apparently after leaving my glasses in the underwear models room and discovering this 10 minutes later when I touched my face and was able to touch my eye without glass in the way I turned into the ultimate drama queen. Things I apparently shouted while flailing my arms:

'Oh my God! Without my glasses I am legally blind!' - this is in no way true, things are legally mildly fuzzy but I can see everything that's not in fine print

'We are going to be stuck in Vegas! I have to get back to my cats!' - Glad to know that I bring my felines into my meltdowns. And apparently have forgotten that companions also have driving licenses and there are miracle machines called 'airplanes'

'What if they step on them?' - Legitimate concern as the model thought he was getting ass, he did not and was decidedly not pleased with my 'thanks but no thanks' and then RUNNING AT FULL SPEED from his room. Odd that.

I am sure more details will emerge within the next few days and I will be equally mortified/amused. Then I will promise to never, ever drink again. Or become the Ultimate Drama Queen of the Whole Universe. Then I will mix myself a cocktail and say 'fuck it, shit happens'.

Yeah, That Was Fun

Vegas is awesome, but potentially out of vodka. And champagne. Just just be aware of that if you are planning a trip anytime soon. I achieved all goals and made out with a man who was both a professional lacrosse player (who knew there was a pro lacrosse league?) and an amateur underwear model. He was very pretty and I believe, 24. I flirted my ass off, danced, went to an awful, awful club and ended up on a rooftop deck overlooking all of Las Vegas

There are many, many stories but in telling them would violate the girl code of honor. However I will tell you this detail, if you were on a certain floor of a certain hotel and saw two girls BOLTING past you, one of which was holding her bra in her hand, had her shirt on backwards and inside out and was missing her glasses, you should have stopped them and said hi, because one of them was me. Perhaps I would have made you retrieve said glasses instead of poor sleeping friend.

I am generally much more well behaved than I was this weekend. I have discovered that is very boring. I much more prefer this, except, perhaps, with less vomit. Again, that one was me.

Thanks Vegas, you're a peach.

Vegas Baby!

Tonight I drive myself, Liz and another friend to Vegas. I have been to Vegas exactly 3 times in my life and haven't loved it. Quite the opposite actually. For years I couldn't figure out why, I like booze and shiny things, the end. I think I have recently discovered why: each of those times I was in a committed long term relationship and unable to engage in an age old Vegas tradition of putting my tongue in a stranger's mouth.

I have solved that little problem by becoming a spinster. See, there is an upside to living alone with cats and 80 pounds of cat litter. I knew I would find it one day. And that day? Is tonight. So watch out Vegas, there is a carload of mildly angry at men (ok, mostly me) girls headed straight atcha.

A Scene From the Day

A coworker asked me what I am doing for the Long Weekend. My response was 'Vegas!'... this was the conversation that followed:

Her: Don't let them have all your money!

Me: Oh, I don't gamble at all. I drink.

Her: Oh, so you'll just hang at the nickel slots?

Me: No... at the bar. Closer to the alcohol

Her: You are going to pay for drinks in Vegas?!?

Me: No. I'm a girl. That's why God invented boobs.

She had no response to this.

I then went home and signed online. A 24 year old I used to work with IM'd me, catching me off guard. Apparently he thinks I am 'awesome' and wants to take me to dinner. I am being courted by a fetus. Oh and while sitting outside at a restaurant the boy who most recently broke my heart got stopped at a stoplight 2 feet away from me. It's been that kind of week.

I Know How to Party

This weekend would make any spinster proud. I went to Target on Saturday night, alone, at 9PM. It was me, 5 other women buying cat food and a gaggle of gay men. It was wonderful. Then the next day I woke up, went to CostCo and bought 80 pounds of cat litter. Gentlemen, the line starts on the left.

Seriously, it was a great weekend, but it should have been dubbed Bargain Spinster Fest 2008. Liz introduced me to the incredibly wonderful world of Big Lots. I had never been to one and now I may move in. I got 19 bags of stuff for I believe a dollar 50. Yeah. We followed up that feat with CostCo wherein I bought giant industrial sized items. Let's just say I have enough Parmesan cheese to least me through the next ice age. I don't think I'll have to shop again until December and I am ok with this. More than ok. I am ecstatic as I lift my giant 38 pound bottle of lotion onto the counter and place it next to the world's largest bag of croutons. No joke, the bag is roughly the size of my torso and upon seeing it in the store I let out an audible gasp of glee. I really, really like croutons. Ergo, the bag should last me through the week. Maybe.

On another note I took my cat to the vet. The vet wants to put him on Prozac. Yeah. I think if anyone in my house is getting happy pills it should be me and not the gay italian cat. I am considering it though as mostly, I want my future online dating profile headline to read 'My cat is on Prozac, how are you?'. It really is a wonder I'm single.

Ouch Ouch Boogie

Here's something fun, imagine if you will that you are sitting at home on your one night in, relaxing and decide to clean out the text message in box in your cell phone. Since it's 2008 this message box fills up in a week so you have to constantly prune. You go back through the messages and boom, 40 messages from the boy who most recently broke your heart. Messages you thought you deleted but apparently did not. Messages that were once incredibly cute and flirty. Now? Now the messages are Bad. And Painful. And now, you do the ouch ouch boogie. Which if you are me means deleting them and then text messaging friends about the motherfucking sadness. Friends are good and I love mine dearly, especially when they respond to the messages after 4 weeks of messaging about pain and say that I am awesome. And I can't even drink of the vodka as tomorrow's is girl's night and my liver needs a reprieve.

Ok... maybe just one.

Stupid phone.

Monkey

Yesterday I woke up happy. I woke up happy because from 7:15 until roughly 8:30 I thought it was Friday. It was not. I even rocked out to Journey on my way to work, welcoming in the weekend in the proper way. It wasn't until I was pulling into my office that my heart broke into a thousand pieces and I realized it was in fact only Wednesday. Stupid brain.

Last night I covered up my Only Wednesday pain and went to Mortified (hyperlinks are oddly broken but it's on my blog roll). There are occasionally moments so funny I have to share them with you, internet people. This girl was reading her journal from age 13 when she uncovered this gem: I saw the smallest man ever today. At first, from far away, I thought he was a monkey. Then he started speaking in spanish and I thought, wow, that's a really smart fucking monkey.

Yeah. Take that in for a moment. And then giggle for the next day or so while muttering what may become my new catch phrase 'that's a really smart fucking monkey'. It's what I planning on doing all day today, yet another day that is not Friday.