2009: a Recap

Dudes, I cannot express how happy I will be to slam the door on 2009. There were some ups, decidedly, and dear sweet merciful Christ there were some downs.

Let's see:

- My best friend Adam died, unexpectedly
- Fell in love. Hard.
- Had dinner at the French Laundry
- Had my heart broken, then run over, squashed like bug
- Cried. A lot. Blogged about it.
- Flew on tiny, tiny plane to see good friends get married
- Jumped off a cliff in Hawaii
- Dated a fun hipster with a scooter
- Stopped dating fun hipster with a scooter and declared man ban
- Spent approximately 3k on much needed therapy
- Cried. A lot. Blogged about it
- Fell down in Vegas and pushed my kneecap back in with my hand
- Made an amazing friend
- Dated vastly inappropriate people, laughed about it
- Learned the value of retail therapy
- Lost some old friends, fought with some, grew closer because of it
- Am still standing

It's been a roller coaster, friends. Thank you for being here with me on the ride. Here's to 2010 being better for all of us, full of laughter, love, hope and champagne.

A Family Christmas

Every year my uncle comes over to help us decorate sugar cookies. Every year, without fail, he then eats the left over frosting while making what can only be dubbed as his O face. Internet, this is why I need therapy. This year however we got all fancy and used frosting in cake decorating bags. Ergo, instead of scooping the frosting out of the bowls with a spoon he had to squeeze the frosting from the bag. It's a super fun visual, isn't it?

So of course I took pictures of this moment in my life. You know, so that one day I can torture future generations with this knowledge ensuring that anyone from my blood line keeps therapists employed throughout the ages. My uncle posed for said pictures, piping bag posed over his open mouth, head thrown back in ecstasy.

We then had the following wonderful family moment.

Me: You look like you're fellating that bag.

Uncle: That's a fancy word.

Me: I learned it in college.

My mom who was standing at the sink, slams down her hands: I didn't need to know that!

Me (responding without thinking) : I meant the word, not the action. Please, I was really unattractive in college you know I didn't get any ass. I really learned it in my 20's

My mom and I stare at each other, blinking. You see, my mom and I can talk about most things (reality TV being the main staple of our relationship) but in her mind I am virginal and will remain so regardless of relationship/marriage/future offspring.

She then puts down the sponge she was using to clean dishes and went outside to smoke half a pack of cigarettes. Every so often she would look at me through the sliding glass door and shake her head. My uncle on the other hand high fived me.

Ah family moments to treasure forever.

Perhaps I Shouldn't Breed

Today I was emailing with a good friend of mine and the subject of babies came up. Specifically about how there was one at the restaurant I was at and well, it was making a God awful sound. You see in my day to day life I don't come in contact with a lot of babies. As such when I see one I immediately freeze up, especially if I'm forced to interact with them. Being a woman of a certain age everyone assumes I can't wait to grow one of them and then raise it. A year or so ago I would have agreed and oohed and awwed. Now... well...I would rather just buy a really nice pair of shoes. In fact my family was due to go decorate cookies with some kids today, but my brother and I formed an anti baby alliance and the cookie decorating was cancelled. I know this may make me see Scrooge like (I'm ok with that) but I knew the second that we walked in there someone would hand me a baby and I would be forced to smile and pretend I know what to do with it.

So the conversation I had with my friend went like this:

Her: But they're so cute!

Me: They crap, you clean it up, they cry, they don't drink. I don't understand what's to like.

Her: But it's baby crap! It's small because they're small.

Me: Yeah, still crap. And potent.

Her: Christmas makes me want to nest and want a baby.

Me: Christmas makes me want to go to Europe and dance on tables and make out with Spaniards.

So, I think that's what I'll do. My friends and I have been talking about taking a trip this spring, I think it's time to put it into motion. I have table dancing to do before I get that horrible Want A Baby holiday sensation. It's bound to hit in a few years and I think before then I have a lot of trouble to raise.

Hodgepodge

- So last week I worked 40 hours in 3 days when sick. This culminated in me getting a respiratory infection and being home sick. It also means I'm not allowed to drink for 2 more days. Apparently the modern medical system has never had to spend the holidays with my family. If they did they would understand that asking this of me is just not safe for mankind. As such I am leaving my family home shortly to buy a case of champagne. I will attempt to not drink it until done with my meds. BUT I'M NOT PROMISING ANYTHING. On the plus side it's only 3 more days until Liz joins me. It's fun because she's awesome, and also because my stepfather is secretly convinced she's my fancy girlfriend. Oh the fun we have.

- Before leaving LA I had to run a few errands. In doing so I saw every celebrity known to mankind. No joke. My favorite was LaToya Jackson who totally saw me recognizing her and thus pulled her bejeweled baseball cap down over her eyes. It was kind of awesome.

- My brother is girlier than I am. He owns a loofa and body wash. The body wash however smells like boy and now so do I. Seriously I smell like every boy I have ever dated. Happy holidays to me!

- I have been home for 18 hours. Thus far I have eaten 5 cookies. This is well under my average. And thus, time for breakfast.

Sleepy

Dudes, I slept 3 hours but I worked almost 20. Thus I am The. Tired. Capitals and periods intended. So, I'm not sure if this is as funny to all you awake people out there but I found it highly amusing.

I had the following conversation with a friend from improv. He had asked what I did this weekend and I told him about the helicopter tour. This was his response:


Him: Woah! Who the fuck are you dating, Scrooge McDuck? Did he have LaunchPad fire up the copter and take you on a spin?

Me: Yep. I didn't want to tell you but it is Mr. MrDuck.

Him: Did you get to see the money pool?

Me: What do you think we did after the helicopter tour?

This is why I only hang out with funny people.

The Weekend: A Recap

- On Friday I went to a holiday party and took my friend Ava as my date. Apparently this created some controversy when she jokingly said that she was going to make an honest woman of me...and now everyone I work with thinks I'm a lesbian. Rumors flying about, staring and pointing. No. Joke. So we decided to play along and then I licked her neck. Yep, that totally put those rumors to rest, yessirree.

- On Saturday I went with a friend/date to 4 different parties. At one I sang Baby Got Back while stone cold sober. Let's just say karaoke when sober is a touch awkward. But, if you sing about big butts it's a smidge easier. The fourth and last party was a house party. Guess who was there? The virgin I hooked up with a week ago and that never called me back. Apparently Los Angeles is approximately one foot big and everyone knows everyone. Let's just say the virgin got really awkward and there was a lot of foot shuffling on his part. On my part I was happy when my date wanted to leave after 20 minutes.

- What else could I be forgetting... oh, that's right on Sunday a different date TOOK ME ON A MOTHERFUCKING HELICOPTER TOUR. Yeah. He did. We met for wine and the second part of the date was a mystery. He then told me we'd be taking a helicopter to see Christmas lights. I had a mild panic attack due to my whole loving the ground and not loving flight thing, but then he surprised me with a bottle of champagne and it helped squash the nerves. Dudes, helicopters are alternately scary and awesome. It's kind of like being in a car but in the air. Also, Christmas lights are pretty from above.

Halfway to 59

Today is my half birthday, which I totally celebrate. However, the celebration will be a bit different today as it's the day of a big annual Christmas party I go to. Also, I'm sick. Wheeee! Below is a conversation I had with my mom:

Me: Half birthday! Woo! Where's my pony?

Mom: Shouldn't it be half a pony?

Me: You're evil. I like it. Yes.

Mom: How are you feeling?

Me: Like death.

Mom: Still going to the party?

Me: Have we met?

Mom: But you won't drink?

Me: Have we met?

Mom: But you're sick?

Me: Mom, say it with me... open bar. Top shelf vodka.

Mom: ...but you're sick?

Me: I don't make fun of your God's, so don't judge mine.

Mom: Understood. Have fun.

Happy half birthday to me!

Things I Currently Like

- The show Jersey Shore. Listen, I know there's some 'controversy' around this show and a bunch of people are all up in arms about how derogatory it is. Um... have they never been to Jersey or Long Island? These people totally already exist. All MTV did was scoop them up and put them in a house. AND IT'S AMAZING. The best part is MTV currently has (apparently) only two shows they air at the moment so it's rerun every hour. I am not ashamed to say that I have watched it 3.5 times. Oh yeah. I have.

- Streaming internet radio dedicated solely to Christmas music. Listen folks, we all know I'm a nerd. It's kind of a given. But this takes it to new unforeseen levels. Yesterday I played Christmas music all day and hosted a dance party in my office. I made a coworker dance with me as well. This may be why I'm unpopular in the office. Meh.

- Apple cider. So Starbucks has this caramel apple cider that is crack in a cup. However, they run out of it roughly every day. Apparently they get 12 ounces of apple juice delivered once a month and they just dole it out as they see fit. This is my working theory at least. Well yesterday I was the lucky recipient. When the barista told me that yes, they did have it in stock (I check daily. Obsessive for the win) I literally almost hopped over the counter and hugged her while weeping. Instead I just did that in my head and in my head? It was magical. I then drank it like a shot and was on a sugar high for the rest of the day.

- Pretty, pretty improv boys. Dudes. You don't understand. The level of attractive males in my new improv class is unheard of. Usually improv boys are nerdy and awkward which is generally my type. This class? Chock. Full. Of. Models. Like people I didn't know existed in real life pretty. And thus in class I mostly just stand around slack jawed and stare. That goes over real well in the class dedicated to making the funny. Whatever. Mama likes.

Well, That Was Interesting

So on Saturday I went to a house party. The party was hosted by a boy that I have been known to make out with upon occasion. The occasion happened again mostly due to the presence of mistletoe (and alcohol). We went to his room so as not to be stared at by party goers. Roughly 5 minutes later there was a knock at the door and some random dude was looking for his girlfriend's coat. It wasn't in the make out boy's room (let's call him Pete) so Pete went to look in the hallway.

This is when drunk random dude started talking to me.

'What are you doing in here?'

'We were discussing world politics. Afghanistan mostly.'

(pause) 'No. Really.'

'I was tired. Parties make me sleepy. Nap time!'

(long pause) 'Seriously?'

'Yep. That's what Pete and I were doing. Napping.'

It was then that Pete's brother (Let's call him Hal) came in to help search for the coat. Note that I am still laying on Pete's bed, shoeless. Hal was looking in the closet while the drunk stranger kept questioning me and my presence in the room. I kept making jokes and stood up to put on my shoes, obviously uncomfortable at this point.

Hal then turned to the drunk guy and said: 'Why are you harassing the girl on my brother's bed?'

Drunk guy shrugged and turned back to me. Hal then said 'Ok, time to get out. Party is over.' Drunk guy: 'Seriously? I was just getting started.' Hal: 'Yep, get the fuck out, party's over. Seriously. Get the fuck out of my house.'

It was then they left the room and I stood and put on my shoes. I walked out to the living room and sat with Ava right next to the front door which was open. We decided we should head home as it was almost 4AM. It was then that I looked outside and there was Hal BLEEDING FROM THE EYE. Let me repeat that, blood, coming out of his face, specifically from his motherfucking EYE. Yeah.

Then there was chaos and running around in small circles (me) and applying a towel to his face. There was also a call to the cops as they chased down random drunk guy who had taken off in his car after the apparent street brawl. And then we went home.

Hal had 4 stitches and has to wear an eye patch. Happy holidays?

Apparently I really am trouble. And can now cause bleeding from the face.

A Conversation

Last night a few friends and I went to a bar for a birthday party. We ended the evening at a serious dive bar with quite possibly the most interesting clientele I have seen in Los Angeles. There was the creepy guy with the neck brace who spent the entire night on the nudie video poker machine, smiling and the bartender was 65 and kept asking what the ingredients were in drinks including Maker's Mark on the rocks. No joke.

However, the highlight of the evening was the following exchange which happened after I spotted a legitimate twitching, scratching capri pants wearing crackhead enter the bar.

Me: There's a crackhead in the bar!

Ava: A red head?

Me: No! A crackhead!

Our friend Mike: A Kraken?

Me: Who the fuck are you Pegasus? No! Not a kraken! A crackhead.

Ava and Mike: Ohhh....

Is there anything better than a little mythological humor in a bar? I don't think so.

Nerves

Tonight I start a new improv class. Thus, I have first day of school jitters. This morning I actually changed my outfit 3 times. Yeah. I am so not that girl and won't even go that far for dates (note to self: may be why you're single). But, I wanted to look casual and not like I just rolled out of the office as I tend to.

You see improv kids are hip. They are all either employed as actors, vintage clothes store managers or oddly, think tank employees. They all have ironic tees and attitudes that said they got laid a lot in high school. Dudes, I'm a nerd. I am decidedly not hip nor did I even hold hands with a boy in high school (fat, had bangs, it wasn't pretty). As such the day of the fist improv class I become 13 again and thus run around in tiny circles of anxiety. This will pass usually by class two when my anxiety turns to having to make the funny in front of strangers with no script.

Just to clarify, this is something I voluntarily do to myself. I have a very warped idea of fun.