Okay, so I have like twelve rants to write about, but this one is fresh, so here goes. Anyone that has read any of my "dating diaries" entries knows that I have issues with men. We all know that, in a sea of men, I will pick the one psycho, the one stalker, the one perv, the one mama's boy, the one ...well you get me drift. So, for a rare change of pace, I posted something nice, because I actually had something nice to say. There's nothing wrong with Jonathan. There's nothing I need to fix, nothing that drives me insane. He's just chill. Everyone that read my entry has been nice and supportive. My friend, Michelle, well....not so much.
She read the same entry that everyone else read and, instead of being glad that I met someone cool that isn't off his meds, isn't an ex felon, isn't a crackhead, isn't a wifebeater (need I go on?), she's full of *dire* warnings about how I shouldn't trust him, how he obviously has an agenda, and I'm going to get hurt. Ummmm.....*how* did she get any of that out of what I said?
What is it with these bitter bitches that can't stand to see someone be happy for a change? It's like they thrive on drama and crazy "Ike and Tina" loco-ness and, if I'm feeling comfortable about a situation, they feel like they have to sabotage it. You all know a bitter bitch. She may be your mother, your sister, a coworker, or one of your girls. If you get roses, it's because he's cheating on you and feeling guilty about it. If he takes you out to dinner, it's because he secretly doesn't like your cooking. If he doesn't answer your phone call or text right away, it's because he's trysting telephonically with someone else. He can't be nice for the sake of being nice; there's always some angle he's working, something shady he's done that he's trying to hide, or (always the first place she goes to) there's some wife and kids posted up somewhere that you know nothing about.
I love her to death but, sometimes, I want to clock her upside her head. Yes, he could turn out to be this huge perv, or raging alcoholic, a big-time gambler, or a womanizing fuckhead. When you date someone, you always run that risk that the person may not be what you glamatized in your head or who they represented themselves to be. It goes with the territory, but what you can't do is go around thinking that every person that likes you is trying to play games with you or is trying to be deceitful. Sometimes, you just have to give them the benefit of the doubt.
She said that I was being too trusting and I'm obviously delusional about his intentions. If I didn't know better, I'd say she had a bunny-boiler woman crush on me. I was ready to write it off and then she told me that I she'll be there for me when he "fucks me over like every other man on the planet has ever done me." Maaaan. That was harsh. Guess we know one person that won't be getting a Christmas present from me, huh?
This is *exactly* why I love my guy friends. You don't have to deal with crazy crap like this. Seth read the same entry and all he said was, "He does you wrong, I put my foot in his ass," and that was it.
See, people? That's a *real* friend.
State of the Union: So over it
Listening to: That Girl is a Cowboy by Garth Brooks
When I'm drunk, I tend to:
Dance a lot and make out
Shots or beers?
Shots OR beer? I can’t chose. That's just wrong. I love them both.
Do you have a drinking buddy?
When I’m drinking, everyone is my buddy.
Do you get angry?
Nope. I’m a happy drunk. You’ve seen the pictures.
Do you puke?
I used to do it on purpose so that I wouldn’t absorb all the calories, but I realized that was kinda gross, so I cut it out.
After 7 drinks how are you?
Still dancing and still making out. (Hey, at least I'm consistent)
Tequila does what to you?
Makes ugly boys look hmm-mm goooooood.
Vodka makes you?
Very whorish
Do you do things you wouldn't normally do sober?
Not really. Oh, except the time I think I did the nasties with a troll.
Do you pass out?
Nope. Passing out is quitting and I ain't no quitter
Do you drink girly drinks?
When I’m hanging around girls.
Worst drink you've ever had?
Thunderbird when I was 13.
Do you play drinking games?
Only the ones that carry on into the bedroom. *evil grin*
Favorite Beer?
Dos Equis and Becks
What is your favorite shot?
Tequila, baby, followed closely by woo woo shots.
What will you NOT drink?
Coors Light, Keystone, Naty Light, Chivas, or Jager.
What is your hang-over cure?
I come from a looooong line of alcoholics. I don’t get hangovers.
Do you like frozen drinks?
Hell yeah!
Do you ever drink out of the bottle?
Champagne when it’s my birthday and beer because, well, that’s what you do.
Are you drunk right now?
It’s too early for that.
Do you consume more than 2 alcoholic beverages on daily basis?
No. I come from a long line of alcoholics, but I didn’t say I was one.
Do you drink a lot of wine?
Nope. Wine tastes like ass.
When's the last time you drank?
Friday night.
Name someone that will repost this survey?
Whoever is bored.
Ever been streaking while drunk?
No, but I did it when I lost a bet.
Ever carried someone up & down the same flight of stairs due to their drunkness?
I had someone leaning on me very heavily. He felt like he weighed a ton and it’s a good thing I’m built like the Incredible Hulk.
Puked in a friend's car?
Heck no! People that can’t hold their liquor shouldn’t be allowed to drink.
What is the last beer you drank?
Newcastle on Friday.
Can you handle shots?
The real question is can they handle ME?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
Do you turn into a chain smoker while drunk?
Nope, I’m allergic to cigarette smoke which makes dating a smoker very challenging.
Do you know your limits?
Yes, and I break on through to the other side.
Ever woken up asleep on the bathroom floor after a wild night out drinking?
No. Gross!. Even in my worst moments, I still manage to crawl into bed.
What alcohol makes you get sick?
Jager and Everclear if they aren’t mixed properly.
Ever chipped a tooth from drinking?
No, thank goodness.
Do you crave fast food when you're drunk?
I usually want tacos from the taco stand. Hmmm, suizas.
Who is the funniest drunk you know?
Jonathan. He tells silly stories mixed in with trivia questions mixed in with random jokes mixed in with compliments about how hot I am.
When's the last time you were completely hammered?.
The night after my friend, Fernando, got killed. I vowed to never get that wasted ever again.
Got any friends who can drink like nobody's business?
Quite a few.
Are you a loud or quiet drunk?
I’m a loud, happy, giggly drunk (Lord knows you know this already from the pics I’ve posted)
Ever had sex while drunk?
Uh….who hasn’t?
Are you a blackout drunk?
Nope, though with some of the uglies I’ve made out with, I wish I was!
Do you like Smirnoff Ice?
No, but I like Smirnoff vodka mixed with pineapple juice.
At what age did you start drinking?
My sister made me vomit on Thunderbird when I was 13. My dad gave me my first mixed drink (a Hurricane) when I was sixteen, but I didn’t drink on a regular basis until I was 21.
Ever been in a drunken fight?
Nope. Wait, do arguments count?
Have you ever been drunk with the person who posted this before you?
Yes. With her whole family, actually
State of the Union: Jonesing for a drink, actually
Listening to: Free Bird being played on Guitar Hero
Okay, so I know it was forever ago that I had my party. I posted the pics that I liked up on My Space. Birdsnest was gracious enough to stay up past his bedtime and take pictures for me (Thanks, Birdy!). My SD card was acting wonky, so I didn't take any pictures, but everyone else had their cameras and it's interesting to see who they took pictures of, who they didn't, and why they did or didn't. I won't go dishing anyone's secret drama, but I have to say that there was a *severe* outbreak of passive-aggressive bitchiness going on.
The thing about these pictures is that they pointed out things that I never noticed before, things that I noticed before and chose to ignore, things I must have thought about subconsciously but was forced to acknowledge and things that my head knew, but my heart hadn't accepted yet.
I realized that I inflict my personal tastes off on people. I hate domestic beer, I refuse to drink it, and anyone that *did* like it was SOL because there wasn't any to be had at this party.
Two things really bothered me about this picture: A) I was saddened to realize that this is one of the only pictures Vanessa was in all night and that's not right and B) Julie always poses like that and it kind of annoys me.
I call myself Sonya Taft's groupie and I am. She's an awesome belly dancer, true, but the thing that I love about her (besides the fact that she's an Inuit) is the fact that she's not waif thin and she's okay with it. She embraces her uniqueness.
Every time I watch her do sword, or *any* dancing for that matter, I realize how far I still have to go with my own.
Tasmia was wearing a Snoopy shirt and jeans and put on one of the most sensual dances of the night. She proves my point that it really doesn't matter what you wear; hotness is innate and some people either have it or they don't.
I always knew, but it was nice to have it confirmed, that Paul is a real friend. He cut out on another party early to come to mine. He even rose above the fact that he doesn't get along with my best friend to be there and support me.
Alexis and I have been spending a lot of time together. She's into astrology and all that metaphysical froo-froo bullshit that I can't stand and just can't seem to wrap my head around, but I have learned tolerance from her.
Tasmia is the coolest bipolar chick that I know. The weirdest thing is that she has the most calming effect on me of all my friends. I also realized that James is an awesome husband. He accepts her the way she is, loves her unconditionally, and is really cool about me coming over and hanging out for hours on end.
Two bitchy points about this picture and both of them concern my best friend. A) Julie's roots prove my point that it is *never* a good idea to piss your haristylist off, because they will make you pay for your insubordination and B) It's my birthday, my party, and she purposefully positioned herself in the center of this picture. The picture is a metaphor for the biggest problem between us: Everything always has to be about her and she always has to be front and center with all the attention on her. Multiple people have pointed it out, but it kinda slapped me in the face here.
Mike and Tisha had been up since the buttcrack of dawn, went to another party and watched the game and were tired as hell, but they stayed up to come to my party. She's a good person, inside and out, and she's a good friend to boot.
I realized that this is probably the only picture that Birdy and I have of the two of us together. I also realized that, for all his bitching and moaning and complaining, he's a pretty swell guy.
This picture forced me to actually acknowledge that I have PCOS and it prompted me to write the entry that I did. I finally faced the fact that I'm probably always going to look this way.
This is the worst picture that I've ever taken in my life and it's the hardest one to look at. This was when I opened the gift that I thought was from my dad and turned out to be from Gianni. I saw that I had been holding on to him in my secret heart of hearts and holding myself back from ever really moving on because I felt like I was betraying him. This picture captured the moment that I finally accepted that he's really gone and he's not ever coming back.
State of the Union: Not really sure how I feel right about now
Listening to: My Old Friend by Tim McGraw
I had a choice to make. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I thought about what I wanted out of life. I thought about my goals, my wants, my desires, my plans. I thought about who makes me laugh, who wanders in and out of my mind at random times. I thought about who pops into my daydreams sometimes. Then I thought about my plans for the coming year that I can actually make now and I thought about who I would want standing beside me as I trekked the world.
I think I knew, from the first time he came up behind me as I was texting and asked me if I was waiting for someone, that he was the boy for me. You ever feel that spark of electricity that you get when you meet someone you're really, really attracted to? Ever feel your breath hitch a little bit in your throat? Now imagine those two things happening simultaneously, and you'll begin to feel how I feel every single time I see him.
I thought I would be waging an internal war with myself, and I'd have to have this big, long, drawn out debate. None of that happened. I just asked myself, honestly, if I would be okay if this person walked out of my life. The answer was no.
I guess that was all the answer I needed.
State of the Union: Relieved
Listening to: Wonderful Surprise by Shawn Hlookoff
Pray for me, People. Today is Bipolar Belly Dancing Wednesday. My belly dancing teacher for my Wednesday night class is so off her meds it's ridiculous. I don't say much in class anymore because I never know which side of her I'm going to get. I just keep quiet, do the drills, and then go home. I also learned that she has terrorized many other belly dancers that I know. She traumatized one girl to the point that she refuses to dance anymore. Period. It's weird to hear her tell stories to all these fools in my class and know that she either A) embellished them to epic proportions B) made herself out to be the victim when she was the terrorizer in all reality.
She called me on election night all hopped up on wine to "have some words" with me about how she feels like I'm "undermining her authority" and "disrespecting her in her class" I'm undermining her authority because I'm good. Apparently, I'm supposed to pretend to suck for other people's benefit. O-kaaaay. Then people had asked her where to get a silk veil and she said just to look up stores in Austin online. She was upset because someone asked me where I bought my veil and I told them. She told me that I shouldn't have said anything and that was disrespectful to her. I countered with," What was I supposed to do when she asked me? Lie?" She said no, but she has so many friends in the belly dance community, that it wouldn't be fair to steer people to one shop over another.
At first, I thought it was because she had beef with the person in town I bought it from. I later found out that she's trying to sell off her own goods at marked up prices. She tried to palm off this fugly costume for $100 that I saw on E-bay last week for $35. I told her that I would respect her wishes and not send anyone anywhere, but I told her that; it's a good thing not everyone practices her policies, because I was referred to her class. Her main reason for calling was that she wasn't sure how it would work with me taking lessons with her and also with my other teacher. My teacher, Helene, was also *her* first teacher back in the day and there is some baaaaaad blood between the two of them. I was cool up until that point, but Helene is kind of like a mother to me, so I kinda went off on her. I told her that Helene made me the dancer I am today and she sent me to her for Egyptian lessons. I told her that I didn't know what the issues was between them, that I didn't even know that there *was* an issue until she brought it up, but I'm there to get involved in anyone's politics; I'm there to dance. She has something to teach me and I want to learn it, but if it's going to be a problem, I understand and I'll go elsewhere.
Her tone changed *real* quick. She started hemming and hawing and sucked it up and apologized to me. I'm not the best belly dancer out there by *any* stretch of the imagination, but I'm the best she's got and she knows it. Besides, she knows that I can go somewhere else and get placed immediately in an intermediate or advanced class (depending on how generous the instructor is) just by saying that I've studied with Helene, so she made like a good girl and made nice and she's been minding her p's and q's ever since. I figured out that she's trying to poach me from Helene so that I can be in the troupe she's trying to perform. I was just there to learn some cool new moves and a new style of belly dancing, yet I get embroiled in longstanding feuds, bitter slander, and belly dancing style corporate raiding.
See? And you thought belly dancing was just happy dancing girls with jingly coins belts and flashy booby bras. Silly rabbit......
State of the Union: Amused
Listening to: You Have Been Loved by Sia
I want to go on record as saying that I love Tisha. I haven't known her a year yet, but she has proven to be a better friend in the time that we've known each other that some of the people I have known for years. She's there when you need her. You don't have to ask; she just shows up. She's awesome and smoking hot to boot. I love her, and not just because she invited me to a bitchin' Happy Hour followed by raucous karaoke. I say raucous because we were a) drunk b) loud c) rowdy d) booing everyone that sucked at karaoke and you know who you are.
I walked in on a torrid love triangle going on between one cute guy, a married lady, and a chick with a boyfriend that wanted to hook up with cute guy. Did somebody order some drama? He then tried to seriously complicate the mix by telling me that he liked me and asking me for my number in front of married lady (she stormed off in the middle of the night) and then tried to love up on me and gave me an innocent peck on the forehead in front of the chick with a boyfriend after she had already made out with him. She ended up crying and upset and had to be driven home. I just kinda checked out of the whole situation because he was a womanizer and, worse still, no matter how cute he was, he was wearing a Nebraska shirt. *shudders*
I watched the game before heading out to DeeDee's bachelorette party on Saturday night. She's getting married at the Ren Fair next week that's happening near Houston and then she's camping for her honeymoon. She died laughing when I told her, "If the tent is a rockin', don't come a-knockin." I was buzzin' hard on screwdrivers. We went to Midnight Rodeo for a minute. There were rhinestone cowboys everywhere. I miss real, corn-fed cowboys. So sad, so sad. Also had an awkward run in with Julie, who, in case you missed it, I haven't really spoken to in like three weeks. Oh yeah, and she's supposed to be my best friend, so you can tell how well the lines of communication are working out in this friendship can't you?
I then ended up at the strip club with Seth and his posse. I don't know which one of those assclowns slapped my ass, but I'm still wearing their hand print. They ended up spending the night, which lead to me making a huuuuuuge breakfast the next day. We went to go play some touch football and then came back to watch some football on the television (I have my fingers crossed that the Hanukkah Armadillo will bring me a flat screen this year). I somehow managed to mess up the dimensions on my layout. I keep praying the Hanukkah Armadillo will also send some nice soul with another layout for me because we all know I suck ass at code. Oh, here are the happy hour pictures from Trudy's and karaoke at Common Interest. They look huge.
This is Tisha. Down, boys. You're not her type.
This was the torrid love triangle. The one in the middle is married.
Can you tell I was lit up like the 4th of July?
We're so foxy.
I got so hammered I forgot to take the syringe out of my mouth.
This was us earlier at Trudy's. You know, before I had two margaritas and a shaker and a half of Mexican martinis.
The three of us were the only ones with no drama going on that night.
We were sliding off the stool as that picture was taken. Drunk broads.
That one little peck started WWIII.
These were the best Jello shots I ever had. Probably because we were practicing our fellatio as we took them.
Know how you know you're a MySpace whore? When you're screaming, "MySpace!" at the top of your lungs, instead of "cheese" as you take your pictures.....
State of the Union: Bemused
Listening to: Shake It by Metro Station
Okay, so I went to what seems like 50,000,000,000,000,000 (that's a gazillion in case you're wondering) doctors and no one could seem to find what was wrong with me. The issue is my fat ass. I was working out four days a week and actually following the diet plan and not losing any weight. So the trainer upped me to five days. No dice. I went to my doctor and told her my situation. She just ran some blood tests to test my blood sugar level, my blood pressure and to check my thyroid. Tests came back in the perfect range. What has always seemed odd to me is how I have never had blood sugar issues or high blood pressure or high cholesterol when I used to eat tons of fast food. Seriously, my blood type was McDonalds at one point.
My doctor's solution to my weight problem: lower my caloric intake. She lowered me from 1500 down to 1200. My dad thought I was cheating on my diet. He used to tease me about a secret stash of snacks like I had a horde of ho hos and twinkies and Reeses peanut butter cups somewhere or something. Everyone in my department could attest to the fact that I was following that diet to the letter as I was a big ole raving beyotch everyday because I wasn't eating any fried foods, sodas, breads, candy, cakes, cookies or fast food. I was miserable every fricking day.
This is about to veer into TMI territory, but I'll go through it briefly. My boss sent me to her girly doctor when I told her about my lack of girly issues: i.e. the fact that I don't ever surf the crimson wave. Apparently, you're supposed to do that on a regular basis and I hadn't in almost two years. (Yes, I am very popular with the boys) Girly doctor asked me a whole bunch of seemingly innocent questions. Then she did the nasty tests that only another woman will truly understand the horror of, drew more blood, and sent me to get an ultrasound. She also conferred with the endocrinologist she sent me to.
Know how people make jokes about fat people? About how they always say it's a gland problem that makes them fat? Yeah, well, that shit is legit because it's part of what's going on with me. My adrenal glands aren't functioning properly. To make matters worse, turns out that I have a nice, lovely condition called Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. What is that crap you ask? Short bus explanation: I have cysts on my ovaries (they look like black and white marbles), my hormones are fucked the hell up, ('scuse my French), and my eggs aren't reaching full maturation, which means there are no babies coming my way anytime soon.
All those seemingly innocent questions? She was just running down the checklist to confirm her hunch. Infrequent menstrual periods? Check. Hirsutism? Check. Excessive acne, oily skin, or dandruff? Check. Weight gain or obesity, usually carrying extra weight around the waist? Check. Thinning hair? Check. (Although we thought that was related to something else I'll get to later) Patches of dark brown skin on the neck, arms, breasts, or thighs? Check. Anxiety or depression due to appearance and/or infertility? Check. Know anyone in your family that has the same symptoms? Check.
They think it's hereditary. I can think of three people on my mom's side that I know have some or all of these symptoms. I've always had it, but most of the symptoms were dormant until something kick them into high gear about three years ago. My mom is upset because she has, up until this came up, blamed all the bad things about me (asthma, allergies to everything under the sun, bronchitis, red hair) on my dad's side of the family so this sucks for her because now her gene pool is "tainted" just like his (She really used to say that). My dad had to apologize to me. It was scant consolation for the number of times he's called me "fatty" or "tubby" or "Big Mama Chunk-Chunk," but getting my dad to apologize for anything is like calling a special session of Congress on New Years Eve, so I take what I can get when I can get it.
She's also pissed off because the chances of me getting struck by lightning are greater than me producing any more matured eggs and producing a grandchild for her. Now, she has to be nice to my older sister, (who happens to be a RAVING beyotch) because she currently has the only grandchild my mother is going to see until my little brother and sister procreate and, seeing as they're still in elementary school, that's a *lot* of shit talking and temper tantrums she's going to have to put up with from my sister. Damn. It's kinda funny. I wouldn't trust my sister with a dog, yet she's the one with a kid. God has a *wicked* sense of humor. Know what else is funny? I was voted most likely to get married and have six kids in high school.
Ironic, innit?
State of the Union: Little bit on the numb side
Listening to: About a Girl by The Academy Is....
I stoleded this from my friend Claribel on My Space. She has nothing better to do other than memes because she has Braxton Hicks right now. I have nothing better to do because I finished all my work early so I could f--- off all afternoon. See? I knew all that education would pay off for something.....
1. I've come to realize that my hair.............will grow back someday.
2. I've come to realize that my heart...............was stomped into a million pieces and will never, ever mend properly.
3. I've come to realize that my job........sucks but pays the bills and will do until I get that diploma in my hot little hands.
4. I've come to realize that when I'm driving......I sing and dance and probably look off my rocker to the people driving alongside me.
5. I've come to realize that I need........to finish school, to win the lottery, and to find my second-best soul mate, but not necessarily in that order.
6. I've come to realize that I have lost.........two of the only people that will ever love me unconditionally.
7. I've come to realize that I don't like when.........my friends ask me for advice, go and do the opposite of what I told them, and then expect me to have a shoulder ready for them to cry on.
8. I've come to realize that the opposite sex.......are easier to understand than girls, don't have an agenda other than getting laid as much as humanly possible, and are good for cuddling.
9. I've come to realize that money.....isn't the be-all-end-all but it sure helps!
10. I've come to realize that certain people.......never learn from their mistakes and it's just easier to let them go on being foolish than to make yourself sick trying to get them to see the error of their ways.
11. I've come to realize that I'll always be......nice and caring one minute and bitchy and sarcastic the next. My moods change like the wind.
12. I've come to realize that .....I have a hard time cutting my friends off, but I am rapidly getting over it.
13. I've come to realize that my mom.......is not as strong as I always thought she was and maybe I should cut her some slack.
14. I've come to realize that my cell phone.......is the Devil and texting is why I am rapidly developing carpal tunnel.
15. Before I went to sleep last night i realized......that my life is 180 degrees different than where it was at this time last year.
16. I've come to realize that when I woke up this morning....... nothing is promised and I still don't understand why the Lord keeps waking me up everyday.
17. I've come to realize that right now I am thinking.......sad thoughts. This is going to be a sad holiday season.
18. I've come to realize that my dad.....is a lot more like my other dad than he wants to admit.
19. I've come to realize that when I get on My-space........it's really to see what kind of crap has been going on in my friend's lives.
20. I've come to realize that today..........was a slow day and I really needed one after all the ripping and running I've done this week.
21. I've come to realize that tonight........I might just stay home and spend some time in that expensive apartment that keeps guard over my clothes.
22. I've come to realize that tomorrow......is not promised and I intend to enjoy my little sister's birthday party because it makes me happy to see her happy.
23. I've come to realize that I really want.....to get married someday. Scary, isn't it?
24. I've come to realize that the person who is most likely to re post......is a meme fiend like myself.
25. I've come to realize that life......is the most important gift you will ever be given and those that choose to give up or squander it are morons of the highest order.
26. I've come to realize that my friends....are the people that have been there for me during the dark times and not just when things were going great or when they needed me.
State of the Union: Reflective and Pensive
Listening to: A Little Respect by Erasure
It's funny, the things that are hidden in plain sight from us. Sometimes it's a secret email account a loved one has set up to carry on an illicit affair. Sometimes it's a hidden bank account or a secret that you've vowed to take to the grave. Sometimes it's being laid off from work or a secret love child that you didn't know anything about. Or sometimes, it's well hidden porn. That's right, I said porn. PORN. As in, my brother downloaded PORN on my goddam computer and didn't tell me. Selfish wanker! Like he's the only one that might like a little visual stimulation to get off.
There was all kinds of crap on there. Blonds, brunettes, red heads. All busty. All with big booties. All that seemed to like having stuff shot on their face or in their mouth. Then there was something that truly disturbed me to my core.
I will never be able to watch another Disney animated movie the same way again. Damn, him, he knew I loved Disney cartoons. You know what the messed up part is? I found this in his draft file of his gmail account. He was going to email it to me and never got the chance. I would have been traumatized. This. This is my punishment for not just deleting his email account, but going through it to see if there was something worth saving in it. This is what I get for being a nosy rosy. This is karma bitch slapping my ass.
State of the Union: Per-fucking- terbed
Listening to: My head exploding
This was swiped from Laurie's My Space page. I keep waiting for her to say, 'Slayer, no swiping!" a la Dora the Explorer.
[ONE Who was your last text..:]
Lyle (Hottie from previous entry)
[TWO] Where was your default pic taken?
In Cancun in May (on the blog site) but in my living room the night before I moved out of the hood (on My Space).
[THREE] Your relationship status?
Single, but not for long.
[FOUR] Have you ever lost a close friend?
Many.
[FIVE] What is your current mood
Nervous. Excited. Scared.
[SIX] What's your brother's name?
Brandon, Gianni, and John.
[SEVEN ] What's your favorite color?
*looks around her blog* Ummmmm....pink? Maybe? :D
[EIGHT] Where do you wish you were right now?
On the beach in Greece with a hot boy.
[NINE] Have you ever been in trouble with the cops?
Once in Louisiana on a dark, stormy night.
[TEN] Ever had a near death experience?
Yes.
[ELEVEN] Something you do a lot?
Text.
[TWELVE] Angry at anyone?
Do I count? I am angry with myself for eating that McRib, but man, it was goood.
[THIRTEEN] What's stopping you from going for the person you like?
Disloyalty. I will make myself get over that.
[FOURTEEN] When was the last time you cried?
Monday?
[FIFTEEN] Is there anyone you would do anything for?
My mama. I'm giving up Australia in December because she doesn't want to miss my nana this Christmas season. I have the feeling we will be crying together. ONLY my mother would be worth missing wearing a bikini in December on a beach surrounded by hottie boys.
[SIXTEEN] What do you think about when you are falling asleep?
People I love.
[SEVENTEEN] Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
Alexis.
[EIGHTEEN] What is your favorite song?
Sad Caper by Hootie and the Blowfish.
[NINETEEN] What are you doing right now?
Doing this meme, obviously. ;P Actually, I was just telling my friend that I'm debating mass texting everyone in my phone with," I'm horny...oh, and McRib is back!!!!!"
[TWENTY] Who do you trust right now?
Lisa and Alexis. They get the brunt of my secrets now that my nana and Gianni are gone.
[TWENTY-ONE] Where did you get the shirt you are wearing?
El Mercado in downtown Cancun.
[TWENTY-TWO] Who did you hold hands with last?
Jonathan on Sunday? Monday?
[TWENTY-THREE] What is your lucky number?
31. It's been a lucky year for me. Well, considering I've only been 31 for like a couple of weeks. (hehehe)
[TWENTY- FOUR] Who is your friend that is closest to you?
Lisa. We can't ever break up because we each know where the other buried the bodies......
[TWENTY- FIVE] Describe your life in one word?
Chaotic.
[TWENTY- SIX] Have you ever kissed in the rain?
Yes, and some other "too hot for tv" stuff, too. :D
[TWENTY-SEVEN] Who are you thinking of right now?
Claudia Zacarra from General Hospital. I'm wondering if she's going to really let her daddy die or not (He's a mobster and having a stroke and she's sitting there watching it happen, but he's really mean to her and almost had her killed, so I can see why she's hesitating).
[TWENTY-EIGHT] What should you be doing right now?
Working, probably.
[TWENTY-NINE] What did you do yesterday?
Went to work, went on a date, watched MTV and then went to bed.
[THIRTY] What are you listening to?
Boys With Girlfriends by Meiko.
[THIRTY- ONE] Who was the last person you hugged?
Jonathan.
[THIRTY- TWO] Who do you hate at this moment?
I don't hate anyone, but I STRONGLY dislike one of the supervisors at work for firing my friend when she is the laziest person out there, this skank at work that keeps messing around with married men, one of my so called friends that's acting like a hypocritical beyotch right now...oh, and the ubiquitous Amanda. I will actively dislike that whore everyday for the rest of my life.
[THIRTY- THREE] Do you act differently around the person you like?
Nope. I'm a brat around him and, seeing as he's just like me, he enjoys it immensely.
[THIRTY- FOUR] What is your natural hair color?
Reddish brown.
[THIRTY- FIVE] Who was the last person to make you laugh
Alex.
*This was a tame meme. I thought it was going to segue into dirty, sexy questions or something*
State of the Union: Nervously excited
Listening to: Wonderful Surprise by Shawn Hlookoff
You ever had a weekend that was so jam-packed that you needed a couple of days to recover? Aren’t weekends supposed to be about relaxation? I spent my Friday night entertaining the relatives that came in for Cousin Sarah’s wedding. This seemed to require me to cook for them in the kitchenette in their hotel suite, even though there was a perfectly good restaurant right up the street. I don’t mean to propel chintzy stereotypes about Jewish people, but my family isn’t helping with the cause, let me tell you. My aunt almost nutted in her pants when I told her that she had to pay for the food. (Do you know how much more expensive it is for Kosher? Dayuuuum)
My family was then put out when I told them that I had plans for my Saturday and they would need to entertain themselves. I had a belly dance class, tailgating at the Texas/Arkansas State game, a waxing, and a show at Kick Butt that night, plus THREE parties I was invited to. My cousin also needed her dress last minute altered and, seeing as how it was Shabbat and no work is supposed to be done and I was the only goy around, they wanted me to do it. Convenient, isn’t it, how people follow religious rules only when it suits their purpose?
Whatevs. I finished the last of the dress and she got married on Sunday and looked fabulous. She had a “no pictures taken by anyone other than the official photographer” rule, which I think is crap, so there aren’t any pictures yet. I’d better look hot or else his ass is toast. I love all weddings, but there’s something just uniquely different about the Jewish traditions. Someday, I want to be standing under a huppah. My mother would have my ass, but I would insist upon it.
Saturday night, I went to Kick Butt and I did something I had never done before. I danced there with NO liquor in my system. That was some scary s—t, let me tell you. My friend, Alanna, was going to a party afterwards, and she had wings. We put them on Casey and turned him into the Sex Fairy.
I think Alexis wanted him to waive his magic wand at her. I don't blame her. He was hoooot. This picture is *not* doing him justice.
This is Alexis, a.k.a. Barbarella. We have been spending a lot of time together. It's nice to have a friend that doesn't bring an armload of drama with her.
This is Helene, working magic with the finger cymbals.
We were going to a costume party. We were belly dancers. They were U.T. fans. We were *real* original with the costuming, eh?
I kinda hijacked this guy that night. I bumped into him and then we started talking and Slayer kinda…took over and nabbed her prey. Part of me is scandalized at how shamelessly I flirted with him, but part of me is kvelling because I got my moxy back in full force. My friend, Colleen was having a party and I kinda invited people to crash it. (It’s not technically crashing if I was invited, right?) Well, I hijacked Lyle and he came with us. The party was very tame, but there was definite sparkage, enough so that he’s coming for dinner on Thursday. How long do I wait before I tell him that I blog and that, when you date me, you’re not just dating Slayer, but *everyone* at EFX?
Judge for yourself? Does he look like he’s being held against his will?
State of the Union: Sassy
Listening to: I Won't Go Home Without You by Maroon 5
I know that I have been remiss in the blogging department. How do I know, you ask? Because Meg called me from California to tell me that I haven’t been blogging lately. I laughed until I cried later because she was bill collecting for blogs. Seeing as I am a bill collector in real life, this scenario has provided multiple giggle sessions for me. Well, she was very effective, obviously, because here I am, blogging.
I’m about to hit a touchy subject. I have been told, on numerous occasions, that I do not have a woman’s mentality. I think like a dude. I’m decisive. Blunt. I cut through the gristle and get straight to the meat. So, now I have to put this question to women that actually think like women. Ladies, when you’re having sex with a man and he doesn’t "ring your bell," do you tell him? Or do you keep that little tidbit to yourself? And men, when a woman doesn’t "arrive," do you want her to be honest about it, or do you want her to fake it like she’s up for an Academy Award?
THIS IS ABOUT TO VERGE INTO A QUASI TMI SECTION. IF YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW, STOP READING AND JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION THAT I POSED ABOVE!!!!!!!!!!
I was dating this guy and he was a potential. He had his personal life together, good career, smart, funny, looked like one of those hottie boys in the Urban Outfitters catalogues. He even had a sleeve. (Yes, I am still shivering about that because tattoos are hot, I don’t care what anyone says) He finally managed to woo his way into my affections and my bed and I, apparently, delivered a TKO. He couldn’t get me off. None of his tried, true, and trusted methods worked. It’s like I handed him his gilded balls on a silver platter after laughing at the size of them in his face. I’m not exaggerating. I am quoting, word for word, what he said. And no, I didn't laugh. I was not in a felicitous mood at that point, trust me. He had asked me if I came, and I was honest and said no, not even close.
Then, to make matters worse, I think I broke him. No, I didn’t sit on his chest and crack his ribs or anything. He came so hard that his balls started to hurt. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I would like to pat myself on the back for a job well done, but he looked so forlorn. He’s apparently this big ladies man up in Belton and known for making a girl cum in less than three minutes with his oral techniques and less than ten in bed with his “patented stroke techniques” and I? I was like, “Okay. Is that it?” I didn’t say it aloud. I was just thinking it. I was bored, so I took over, and that’s when I blew his gaskets.
He left with his nuts mildly throbbing and he said they did that for another day or so. A couple of text messages and one awkward phone call and I haven’t heard from him since. This happened a while ago, but I haven’t put it up until now because I don’t know, I guess I was embarrassed. I’ve grown up all my life with my dad telling people to stop busting his balls and I always thought it was a metaphor. I didn’t know it could really happen…….
State of the Union: Embarrassed
Listening to: Slingshots by Morley
Rant: It's the First of the Month....Sing the Rest
My friend, Velinda, put this on her My Space page and told me to pass it on. Normally, she sends memes galore, but today she sent something relevant. It also got me thinking and made me say, "Yeah, why don't they?"
(I sure would like to know who wrote this one! They deserve a HUGE
pat on the back!)
Like a lot of folks in this state, I have a job. I work, they pay me. I pay my taxes and the government distributes my taxes as it sees fit . In order to get that paycheck, I am required to pass a random urine test, with which I have no problem.
What I *do* have a problem with is the distribution of my tax money to people who don't have to pass a urine test. Shouldn't one have to pass a urine test to get a welfare check because I have to pass one to earn it for them?
Please understand, I have no problem with helping people get
back on their feet. I do, on the other hand, have a problem with helping someone sitting on their butt, doing drugs, while I work. Can you imagine how much money the state would save if people had to pass a urine test to get a public assistance check?
I started thinking about that. I think they should do it. I don't advocate people getting high on my tax dollars. Get a respectable job and earn a respectable wage and get high like respectable people do. LOL. Seriously, though, they should randomly drug test these people to get their check. Send them a letter instead of their check one month saying they need to come into the office to pick it up and then drug test them when they get their. If they don't do drugs, it shouldn't be a problem, right?
One of my friends that smokes wacky weed and snorts um.....stuff was kinda pissed off when I said they should do it saying it was wrong and unconstitutional and rights would be infringed upon. She was getting crunk about it said until I reminded her she's not on welfare, so the testing wouldn't really apply to her. Then she was ALL for it.
Can you see me rolling my eyes?
State of the Union: Exasperated
Listening to: Champagne Supernova by Oasis
I am starting to think that my birthday is cursed. Why, you ask? Oh, let me count the ways.
1) I bought an grass skirt and coconut bra to wear to the party from this company on the internet. I gave them my measurements and the coconut bra came and was still too small.
2) The lady that was supposed to make my food left me a voicemail at 1:30 in the morning that her daughter had gone into labor and she was at the hospital with her. So, there I was at 4 in the morning, slicing meat because I was making Kahlua pork and it had to be slow roasted for 12 hours. This on top of the fact that I had gone out on Thursday night and was tired and then I had just got back from the bar with my friend, Alexis.
3) The lady that was supposed to make my birthday cake got arrested for punching a police officer in the face. So, there I was with no cake.
4) My cousin absconded to Dallas with my circular ice chest that was supposed to hold the rum punch and the dress I was supposed to wear to the party. This was, in addition, to the fact that she had a bunch of people over while I was out on Friday and they drank up half my liquor for the party.
5) I cut myself three times on the hand and once on my foot chopping and slicing fruit. (The foot thing was because my friend scared the living crap out of me and I lost my grip on the knife.)
6) I went to Walmart to find another ice chest with a spigot and couldn’t find one so I had to get ghetto and put the punch in a trashcan.
7) The clubhouse where I was having the party had an old school sound system that didn’t have the right plugs for hooking up my computer or iPod. I ended up pulling my speakers and bass from my computer and attaching them so we could have tunes.
8) I’ve lived in my apartment for almost three months and have never seen a train on the tracks, but of course one shows up when I’m in a hurry and took almost ten minutes to get across the road.
9) I had planned to be the Chiquita Banana Girl for Halloween and had bought the material to make an outfit for it and I’m glad I did because it ended up doubling as the skirt portion of my luau costume, which I paired with a red bikini. I found out that I really don’t want that to be my costume because it kept sliding down and showing my bikini bottoms.
10) My belly dance teacher performed two numbers and then she passed around the hip scarf and made all the belly dancers perform. Note to self: When you haven’t slept much from the night before and you get buzzed on four jello shots and some jungle juice, do NOT pick, “When I Grow Up,” from the Pussy Cat Dolls as the song you want to dance to. I was tired and it was probably the worst dance I have ever done to date. (And that’s saying something).
11) I looked really hot and I wanted to take lots of pictures, but I did something weird to my SD card and now it’s saying that it’s not initialized and wouldn’t let me take any pictures. BOO! Guess that means we have to wait for Birdy to post my pics.
12) Birdy’s wife was sick, so she couldn’t come to my party. BOO!
Good things that happened:
1) I got some really nice presents from people and a bottle of good champagne that I will bleed dry as soon as I get home tonight.
2) Since I didn’t get to go to the Texas/OU game, my dad is taking me to Vegas for the weekend.
3) My friends felt really bad that they missed my party, so they took me to the butt naked on Sunday night.
4) Everyone seemed to like the food that I threw together all late in the game.
5) Rolando and Gabrielle called and texted me to say Happy Birthday. I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but Rolando smokes weed, so his memory is sketchy on a good day and Gabrielle works like twelve jobs like a Jamaican, so I didn’t expect to hear from her at all.
6) Gianni bought my birthday present before he died and made my dad wait to give it to me on my birthday. He got me a “Return to Tiffany’s” necklace and bracelet set. I look totally pimp in it.
7) I’m still living. There's always that.
State of the Union: Nostalgic
Listening to: Sad Caper by Hootie and the Blowfish
It’s semi-cute and semi annoying. I went to my mama’s house and my little sister asked me did I get my present. I had no idea what she was talking about. She pulls out a wrapped box and hands it to me. I didn’t think anything about it until I opened it today and saw it was a box with postal stickers on it. Turns out my little sis, in her infinite boobiness, wrapped up my gifty meme box sent from Laurie. I asked her about it and she said that my friend sent me a birthday present and forgot to wrap it, so she did it for her and kept it until my birthday that way my mama wouldn’t open it.
I wanted to pop her in the head and hug her at the same time. My little sister knows how much my mom pisses me off when she opens my stuff, so she tried to protect me. Little butthead. Laurie got me goodies! And they were good goodies, too. The Gifty Fairy sent me:
*A cute Hello Kitty bag. (Hello Kitty is winking on it. What a flirt! Just like me!)
*A pack of Disney Princess pens with a sticky that said, ‘These were strong women who found happiness and love in the end and you will, too.’
*A dinosaur pen that says, “Dynamite” on it (My MySpace name is Dee Dee Dynamite).
*A magnetic picture frame for my refrigerator with a sticky note that said ‘no need to explain.’ (I laughed at that.)
*A purse sized photo album that said, ‘For all your adventures.” (I’m going to fill it with pictures of boys!)
*A cd called Magical Belly Dance with a hot chick in an Egyptian belly dance costume and a sticky that said, ‘Because this is your passion.’
*A hot pink rhinestone iron-on that says “Girls Rule!” with a sticky that says ‘AMEN TO THAT!’
*A post card from where she lives in….Can I say what state you live in, Laurie? I don’t know if you have stalkers like me. Anyway, the town is really pretty and it makes me want to visit.
*A pink and white 45th anniversary Barbie plate that has a pair of pink sunglasses and reads,’A little sassy…but oh, so classy.”
I am touched to the bottom of my dark and twisty little heart, Laurie. I LOVED everything and you picked things that you knew I would like. I totally heart you.
State of the Union: Tickled and touched all rolled into one
Listening to: You Have Been Loved by Sia (So apt)
I have a rule that I can't delete a blog entry after I put it up. I wish I could because I totally would. Let's just say that the minute I say something nice about someone, they start acting like a butthole. Especially if they're male.
One good thing came out of this. More on that when I finally finish my Rosh Hashanah post.
State of the Union: Disappointed
Listening to: Harder to Breathe by Maroon 5
Today is both of my dad's birthday. Way to go, Mom. Marry two dudes born on the same day and then wonder why they act alike. Shees. Anyway, it's D Day today with the oncologist. My dad is going with me. I needed something to distract me, so I started messing around on the internet and looky what I found:
I cracked up because I know people like this.
Way to kill my buzz.
Sums up my dating life, doesn't it?
I am all for calling a spade a spade.
Gianni used to say that your bitchiness should be commensurate with your hotness.
Can we start with coworkers and then move on to friends?
Pray for me, People. I'm gonna need it.
State of the Union: Terrified
Listening to: You Have Been Loved by Sia
There is an epidemic that is sweeping across my friendships. This plague is infecting people left and right and needs to be stamped out before it spreads further and infects the masses. What is it called? Bitchassness. P. Diffy termed this coin on Making the Band Season 4. According to the Urban Dictionary, symptoms include:
1.Punkish tendencies (i.e. acting like a p***y)
2.Cattiness, such as talking behind someone's back
3.Thinking highly of yourself, but only expressing it under your breath
4.Claiming "hurt feelings" when you are called out on your bullshit.
The following is an informative clip from NecoleBitchie.com made by people in the know letting you know what bitchassness is and giving you prime examples to let you know if you or your loved ones have been infected.
I, personally, am done with all the backbiting and covert bitchassness that has been going on lately. I've been on pause for a minute, but I'm about to press play and go off on some people.
Diddy said there will be no bitchassness at Bad Boy and the same applies in Slayer Land. Any person with an ounce of bitchassness in them will be called out on their bullshit and and/or eradicated.
State of the Union: Fed Up
Listening to: Bia Bia by Lil John
Hell has frozen over. The world is coming to an end. I met a boy. A *normal* boy (I can hear all of you audibly gasping and then saying, "Ooooh." I really can). He's genuinely nice. Like "I'm a nice person" nice and not "I'm only pretending to be nice so that you'll be lulled into a sense of security and then you'll let down your guard and give me some booty" nice. He has home training (That's manners, people).
He calls when he says he will. He texts for no reason. He's just cool. He took me on out on Monday night and got me home at a respectable hour because he remembered that I had a Trig test the next day. He was respectful. He's smart. He deals with his responsibilities and doesn't have his head firmly ensconced up his ass. He was really funny and he doesn't like the Cowboys. Plus, he actually read my blog. I have friends that I have know for *years* that haven't read my blog. He actually warmed my cold, dark, twisty little heart.
He's fun. He's considerate. He's smart. He's normal. As I told Meg, I will promptly mess this up in a week or less.......
State of the Union: Slightly Optimistic
Listening to: David Letterman ripping into John McCain on You Tube.
