28 January 2009

Week In Review

And the week isn't even over yet!
I went to Mass on Sunday. Yea, all my stories somehow go back to Mass. I got hit on at church in front of my husband. I named him "Tippy." He looked like a Tippy. He gave me the eye and smiled. Then he waved at me. Tippy was 2 pews in front of me. Then he tried to give me his dad's watch. Oh yea, did I mention that Tippy was about 2 years old? Yea, so he kept waving and then some hobag 18 year old girl and her mom sat in between us. He started flirting with her!! He also tried to give her his dad's watch. I was heartbroken, until he hit on me again. Once he started chewing on the pews though, I realized it wouldn't work out. Tippy just wasn't on my level, ya know? I forgot about Tippy once I went to communion. I got my Jeezit and went to get the wine (which one of my friends thinks this is the worst thing ever) and the lady was out so she directed me to the other wine dealer. I went to him and as I was tilting the Blood of Christ into my mouth, I saw it.....

Yes. It was a soggy piece of Jeezit floating in the B.O.C. I almost shat my pants. It was too late at that point so I just let it briefly touch my lips and I moved along. I looked back at Ryan and tried to tell him "Nooo" in slow motion. Like, "No don't do it, its bad, its tainted with someone elses backwash Jeezit" but it was too late. I tried though, no one can ever say I didn't try to help my fellow man.

The week isn't completely over, but I'm just talking randomly about all the crap that's on my mind. Like how much I hate the Mohegan Sun commercials. They are awful, and I ESPECIALLY hate the one that is sung to the tune of "Hold the Line." The woman in it bothers me, she's atrocious. It's on the same level of the Eva Mendes manhands, but I can't seem to find a picture of this woman. Soon hopefully.

I've also decided that when I have children, my first child's name will be Beevil John. Yes. BEEVIL JOHN. Am I aiming to send my kid to therapy? Yea, kinda, there's nothing wrong with it. Think about it. That's all. Don't be judgemental.

Beevil.

19 January 2009

Random thoughts...REALLY RANDOM

These are some random things that run through my head on any random day, at any random time. I felt the need to share these with you.

Every time I watch "The Price is Right," the commercial with Wilford Brimley comes on and he ALWAYS says "diabeetis." What is "diabeetis????????" He kinda huffs it when he says it too.

Magic Johnson now apparently has a career again doing Jackson Hewitt commercials. However he doesn't quite score in the arena of diction. I think a public speaking class might do him well.

It's one thing to fart in YOUR cube. Please don't do it in mine. Unless you are me. In which case, it's still not all that ok, especially if someone walks by or just so happens to pop in your cube unannounced. Either way, don't fart in my cube.

My dog needs a pet. I think it's time for him to get a dog of his own. Preferably a female. Preferably named "Jack."

Alvin and the Chipmunks have an album. Like a cover album. Someone actually took the time to create their high-pitched annoying voices and turn it into songs we may have once enjoyed. By actually remaking "Living on a Prayer,"....I mean...yea. I'm done. Srsly. Wow. Ok.

I'm sitting here watching the Inaugural Celebration. Like right now. Will.I.Am is performing a song with what APPEARS to be the background vocals from KidzBop 1-70. Never have I seen a 10 year old white girl jam so hard. Amen. Happy New Day.

P.S. When did the Inaugural Celebration turn into a ghetto-fied block party?!?!?! I like it.

P.P.S. Work it Mary J. Blige. Srsly. WORK......IT.

355 is my new favorite number.

I'm thinking one more tattoo. I feel like I should stop. I said I was going to stop at the one I got this past summer. But I feel like I want more ink!

I need a reason to get dressed up. I want to get dressed up and feel like a princess and go somewhere. Just for a night. Let's do it.

Adam Levine is hot. Adam Levine in all black is even hotter. The live singing? Hmm, something left to be desired.

Shoving food in your mouth and trying to talk at the same time does not work. Please. Thanks. You just saved a small child in Zimbabwe.

I still wish I had a pair of purple heels. Working on it. But they have to be classy. I'm a classy lassy. Don't forget that. Did I remember to put the lid on my dinner?? Hmm...

Vanity Fair's interview with Lexi Losch

Because I'm so awesome, I decided to let Vanity Fair interview me.
(except I'm totally lying, and I took these questions from the interview that Vanity Fair had with Katie Couric. but why not spend some time learning about me? srsly)

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Being on a beach, drinking piña coladas, getting a foot massage, and eating plates of appetizers; all while watching the ocean and relaxing

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
I'm too needy. I tend to rely on others for my own happiness and self-worth. (Ouch......)

What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Selfishness

What is your greatest extravagance?
I don't know that I've acquired enough wealth for a true extavagance. But to date, I'd have to say my Coach purse (if it's a tangible extravagance)

What is your current state of mind?
Confused, confused, and hungry

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
What I really want to say I absolutely CANNOT. So I'll say my second best: Peace.

On what occasion do you lie?
When I don't exactly know how to get my feelings across, I tend to lie about it (although I'm not always that GOOD at lying about it)

What do you dislike most about your appearance?
That I'm not bigger. Being thin is not always great; just like overweight people don't like being on one end of the extreme, i don't like being on the other extreme.

What is the quality you most like in a man?
Humor

What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Kindness

Which living person do you most admire?
My mother. Sorry, yea I know it's cliché, but with everything she has endured, I think I have alot to learn from her still

Which words of phrases do you most overuse?
"Seriously..." and "Hiiii-ooooo"

What or who is the greatest love of your life?
Saying "my husband" would be expected right? So I don't always like meeting expectations. I'm gonna go with my dog, Jordan. Because no matter what, even when you get mad at him, his love for me never wanes and never changes. When I'm sad, he puts his head on my lap until I'm done crying. He relies on me for survival and I rely on him for love and laughter, in which he has never let me down. Adopting a dog was one of the things I'm most proud of.

When and where were you happiest?
This is a loaded question I'm not sure I can answer. Maybe not yet.

Which talent would you most like to have?
Writing. I'd love to be an author.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
I'd be fatter. Seriously.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Finishing undergrad and going right back to grad school and finishing grad school. Education is extremely important to me for my own personal development and what I feel it can do for others.

If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?
A person? Beyoncé (I'd be such a quiet storm). A thing? Do squirrels count as things? If so, then a squirrel. If not, then a journal.

Where would you like to live?
If it was affordable, NYC. Most def.

What is your most treasured possession?
A bear I've had since I was 5. His name is Little Bear(whaaat? I was 5! Not overly creative then). It was given to me by my father, with who I don't have much of a relationship with now. It reminds me of the time when I felt like I couldn't live without him.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Feeling like you have no one, that you've been let down so many times

What is your most marked characteristic?
Once I focus on something, I'm your woman.

Who are your favorite writers?
Augusten Burroughs, Wally Lamb, and Dave Barry

Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
I actually don't know. I've read alot of non-fiction lately, alot of memoirs. I'd really have to think this one through.

Which historical figure do you most identify with?
Meh. Don't really know. Maybe I'll have an answer in a few years.

Who are your heroes in real life?
Mia Leonin and Diana Abu-Jaber, 2 amazing women who taught me that you can say anything you want through the power of creative writing.

What is your greatest regret?
Not loving myself enough.

How would you like to die?
In my sleep, quietly, and quickly.

What is your motto?
"You only live once!"



14 January 2009

The troll, the screamer, and the pleather pants

Let me preface this story by saying: I THINK the troll won. But the troll really didn't ever fight the other 2. Okay? Okay. Moving along.

This little scenario also is from last Sunday's Mass. Every good story comes from going to Mass (Not Massachusetts, I mean like Catholic people Mass, ya know). We were barely on time this week, but they hadn't started. There are always people who stand at the front handing out the mini song booklets before you choose a pew. Well I walked in and the one standing in front of me, the one in my line of travel, was the troll. Yes. I'm awful. I know that already and I already probably have a first class ticket to hell. Not only that, I'm most likely the pilot. But I digress.

So there's this woman thing that I call "The Troll." I mentioned to my husband a few times about a year ago, that this woman looks evil. She always looks mean and she's always always always nosy. She can't stay turned around during mass to mind her own damn business, AND she waddles. Yes siree, she waddles! So she looks a little like this (she also walks like that too if you've seen this):





Her hair isn't much longer either. So I'm in her line of sight for her to give me the song booklet and she IGNORES ME!!!!!!! WTF?! I kind of gave her a dirty look behind her back (yes, in the church) and another man gave me the booklet and smiled. The troll has given me the eye before and this time, she crossed me. So whatever, we find a pew. Mass starts. It's actually quiet this time, no screaming kids, nothing.

THEN....the screamer and the pleather pants come in, late. The screamer is about 2 years old. The pleather pants would be the mother who actually, SERIOUSLY, wore pleather pants to church. The screamer then proceeded to kick the pew and scream "NO" very loudly. This caused the troll to turn around and look and cast her evil glance at the pleather pants. The pleather pants also had a son who looked about 6 or 7 but old enough to know that his sister, the screamer, was already an embarassment to life itself. I continue to watch this dynamic throughout mass, because what else am I going to do, listen to the homily? Yea ok. So the pleather pants finally got tired of the yelping and grabbed the screamer and walked her outside of the church and left the poor son looking helpless. Pleather pants and screamer return; the troll ends up being a Eucharistic minister and I pray that she doesn't give me my Jeezit (my prayer worked by the way). The screamer then yells out "NOOOOOOOO NOOOOOO NOOOOOOO LEAVEEEE MEEEEE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" I then noticed that the screamer no longer had on her left shoe. The pleather pants could not take the embarassment any longer, grabbed her son, grabbed the screamer, sans shoe, and leaves Mass. Didn't even get her cracker. And the troll looked somewhat satisfied.

You could hear the screamer from the back. You could hear her through the door. Both doors. I secretly wondered if the woman chose a different pair of pants, maybe things would have turned out different. If I were to assign percentage points to determine a winner, the troll wins, unfortunately. Because the troll is not a nice lady. She had THAT LOOK on her face when the pants and screamer left. She ignored me. We'll see what happens next time I go to Mass, but I can't let her win out again. Hopefully the screamer returns, armed with a better arsenal of weapons.

04 January 2009

Therapy

2 random things:

1. I went to Boca Grande for dinner Friday night and as I was leaving and walking back to the car, I saw 3 teens(maybe) walking past. 2 guys and a girl. All I heard from their conversation was this(said by the girl):

"Danny, you're NEVER gonna touch a girl!!"

2. So this may make me a horrible person. It probably does for the sheer fact that it happens during Sunday mass and I absolutely hate it. So there's this family. There are about 5 of them. Maybe 4. I don't know. Either way, a few weeks ago, they ended up in the same pew as Ryan and I. The son was sitting closest to me. He wasn't too close, so it was ok. But throughout the mass, I feel like the family got closer and closer until the boy was sharing the same kneeler as me. I'm sorry, I have personal space rules and they even apply DURING mass. He was close enough to smell my perfume. So fast forward to TODAY, and guess who sits in the same pew as us?! Yes. Them. The encroaching family. But this time, the father was sitting closest to me and I was sure to slide my purse a little farther away from me to ensure that I wouldn't share a kneeler...EVEN BEFORE THEY GOT THERE. It seemed to work. By the time we got to the 2nd reading, the father might as well have been looking through my purse. By the time we got to the collection, he was sharing a kneeler with me. This MAY seem trivial people. But it's not. Personal space rules exist everywhere, especially during mass. Get your own kneeler. Get your own pew!! Really, if you need that much space, take an entire pew in the back for you and the clan.

Yea, it's that kind of random.

01 January 2009

The Hands

I'm sorry, but I can't hold this is in any longer. I feel like you all have the right to know.





Eva Mendes has man hands.
I'm sorry. Srsly.





It's more the thumbs than anything else, but really. I can't handle it anymore. I tried to let it go when I first noticed them in "Hitch." But that movie "GhostRider" was on the other night, and she touched Nicholas Cage's face, and OMG, THE HANDS. I'm usually a horrible person, and when I say shit like this, my comments are met with a "tsk, tsk." But my Catholic husband agreed.

The hands.