Which Would You Choose?

My best friend Marcus is in town this weekend. I had the day off work today, so this morning was the first morning in awhile that I was able to watch Maury (re-runs) and my fave, The Price is Right. As we're watching it, I turned to Marcus and asked,

"Would you rather be a Price is Right model or one of Howie's models on Deal or No Deal?"

He thought about and said "I think the Price is Right. You get to do shit on the Price is Right. I feel like you just stand there on Deal or No Deal. That's all."

We then came up with different scenarios of if either one of us was on Deal or No Deal:

"Howie, I'm tired. I'm gonna sit"
"Shit, my ankles hurt. Ain't nothin in this suitcase but a damn $1 anyway."
"I'm gonna go sit in the audience until homegirl decides to call my case. Matter of fact, Anya here can open it up for me."
"Can I get a lawnchair? Maybe just a cushion?"
::Tries to leave the steps, trips, and falls down the flight of glass steps, taking out a few girls on the way with the suitcase::

When ManLosch came to the living room, I asked him the same question. He would also choose to be a Price Is Right ho than one of Howie's Ho's. He exclaimed that there is more to do on the Price is Right set, you get to model more things and change outfits. Very valid point ManLosch. I agree. I think I'd rather be a PIR girl too. I'd like to model the Ford Focus that ExcitedWomanWithTheBrightPinkShirtWithDrewOnIt wants to win.

So, it's the long awaited question: Price is Right model or Deal or No Deal model???

Julia Child I Will Be(And Stylish)

Don't ever doubt my cooking skills because I will be the next Julia Child with this:




It's only $47.94 on Amazon for a 6 ct. I won't ever have to make another chicken. Ever.
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Yes. Bread in a can.

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Fresh Whole Rabbit

Rabbit. On Amazon. Whole rabbit. Fresh. Fresh whole rabbit on Amazon.
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Zubaz Pants

Harvey

Knowing you lied
Straightfaced
While I cried.

Last Friday, I went to a reading. My writing class teacher invited us all to hear him read two pieces, one long and one short essay. One had never been read aloud. So I decided to go. ManLosch came with me as well. He drove us to Jamaica Plain, because if you've been in the car with me, you've seen me freak out behind the wheel if I don't know where I'm going. We arrived at Java Jo's just in time, and realized that it was actually an Open Mic night.

I was a little hesitant at that point, but realized how great Open Mic nights can be. It gives anyone the chance to showcase their work, whether or not it's good and I think it's important that we as a community of writers, of musicians, of artistic expression, support one another. So we heard a few musicians, heard my writing teacher read (very good btw), and then we were thinking about leaving until Harvey came on. Harvey was an old man with a guitar. I groaned silently, but he started singing and I was immediately pulled in. He played his guitar like it was a bongo; almost banging it with his fingers instead of plucking the strings. He only knew a few chords, but somehow it worked for him. He carried a weight of sadness through him and I felt it everytime he huskily sang "...knowing you lied, straightfaced, while I cried." He sang more song that he wrote after that, and I was SO intrigued by him, that I started thinking about him and what his life might have been like.

Did he ever have a wife? Was she pretty? Did she die? Did he ever go to war? Did he have children? How did he learn guitar (or the few chords he knew)? Where did he get those brown loafers from? Why is he taking the bus alone at 9:30pm? He's so tan; I wonder if he likes to sit on benches alot. Does he have a big family? Is he Jewish? He looks Jewish. Wait, how does someone LOOK Jewish? Hmm.....

All through the questions running through my head, I still envisioned him heading home, to a tuna sandwich and a cup of coffee. He would sit in his recliner with his basic cable television and watch the news, muttering to himself how things used to be different.

We left right after Harvey sang and I said a silent prayer for him; that he wasn't really lonely and sad. That my imagination was just active and on overdrive that night, fueled by too much creativity around me. Or maybe it was the coffee.....

SERIOUSLY?????!

I'm an avid So You Think You Can Dance watcher. And my favorite girl, and pretty much the judges favorite, just got voted off. Because you didn't vote for her America. You let Janette get voted off. Srsly. And she was a Miami girl.

I've lost faith in the competition reality show voting process. Eff you America. Srsly.

Are We Breaking Up? Am I Breaking Up?

"....is there trouble between you and I? Did my heart break enough....did it break enough..this time?"

So I'm out in the driveway with the LoschDog yesterday. He's been wearing one of those horrific e-collars still and had a little bit of puppy diarrhea lately so I've been gentle with him and NOT taking him on extensive walks and he's on the bland diet. He's doing alright, but it's easier to let him sniff around in the driveway, get some air, and go relax upstairs. So we're out right? And the house next door to me is fairly large and yesterday, the windows were open. I heard their phone ring and it startled me, thinking it was my cell phone. It wasn't. Then this is what I hear:

"Marla.....no. MARLA! You aren't listening to me! No, this hasn't been working out....no...uh huh. No this whole summer I've been disappointed. It's just not working-....Marla......Marla....no....I'm not happy, why can't you see that???"

Yep folks. The break-up call. I heard next door neighbor breaking up with some chick named Marla. And being the nosy little whore I am, I pretended that LoschDog was still sniffing around when in reality, he wanted to go back upstairs.

"You never call me, we never go out anywhere...I'm bored! Marla I'm not having this-....no I'm not having this conversation, this is not negotiable...."

Here's my thing: If you're going to leave your window open and you're going to raise the volume of your voice, then you deserve to be listened to, not even just heard. Yes, I WILL be that person to listen to your conversation if you provide me that opportunity and it's interesting enough. It's like me walking around the apartment with my blinds open and I'm naked. I'm asking for people to look at me (not that I've got the most banging bod anyway). But it was also a little sad to hear NextDoor Dude breaking up with his chippy. It made me think about all the ways I've been broken up with:

1st Douche: "I don't love you anymore." (this was over IM mind you)
2nd Douche: "Yes, I'm cheating on you." (gets in father's car and drives away; we argue long distance and we don't speak for years. we're friends now actually)
3rd Douche: Just didn't speak to me (wasn't really a relationship anyywaaaaay)
4th Douche: "So when do you plan on coming over? I've been jerking off all week." (sha-WHAT?!)
5th Douche: Oh wait. No. I got married. No Douche. Scratch that. Sorry ManLosch.

Those were just the major ones. I've left out the fleeting one week-ers or random hook-ups. So I guess there's really no great way to break up with someone. It seems to just happen. If I were given the chance to break up with a few more guys, I'd use these excuses:

"Um, my mom got herpes from a monkey. It's just not working for you and I"
"So I only date guys who use T-Mobile and have been in the commercial with Catherine Zeta-Jones and then took her on a date and banged her. No? That wasn't you? Sorry then. It's not working."
"Jesus said so. Booyah. Get outta my face!"
"It's not me...it's actually just you. You're awful. You suck at life."

Ahhhhh break-ups....any of you have any good/hilarious break-up stories? Beware: depending on the story, I may have to break-up with you as friends. It's just not working for me, ya know?

No Namaste for You

I should have trusted my gut instinct that told me NOT to go to yoga last night. But I went anyway, obviously. And my dear readers, let me share with you my night.

Before I even made it to the locker room, the couple that goes to yoga that I don't like was also walking in. I found out his name is Derrick, so I call him Douchey Derrick. They were walking in right in front of me, and he let the door slam in my face. STRIKE 1. He also then let the door to the yoga studio slam in my face. STRIKE 2 Douche-a-maroo.

I took my usual spot in the back corner, because that's where I find the most peace. I like having the wall as a neighbor. Douchey Derrick and his chippy were busy chatting away before yoga.
Chippy: "I really don't want to invite Karen. Should I?"
DD: "Babe, if you don't want to, you shouldn't."
Chippy: "Well I'm already inviting alot of people that know her, like all in her circle, and NOT her. Does that look bad?"
DD: "Babe, it's totally fine. She won't care. She should know that no one likes her anyway." (Affectionately rubs back of Chippy)

I had to tune out because I was ready to shoot him with an arrow. But I didn't tune out for long, because the yoga teacher, Nina, waltzes in, and nonchalantly informs us that she forgot the music. Ok, whatever. No big. Except, she decided to sit down and start talking about Harry Potter instead. And the weather. And it was about 6:03pm (yoga is supposed to start at 6). I almost blurted out "I pay for a membership. Can we please stop discussing Harry Potter and his weather predictions and get a move on?" but I remained silent in the corner.

Now, don't get me wrong, the actual poses and stretches that she chose this session weren't bad. I enjoyed them. But I've discovered that Nina doesn't like silence. And because she forgot her music, she decided to fill the space with her voice instead, talking about things that had nothing to do with my Ujjayi breathing technique, so I was doing my best to tune it out. Then we went all daycare style and had to pair up to practice our Half Moon pose. Those that know me know that I can be a pretty solitary gal, so pairing up during a time that I reserve for ME, MYSELF, AND I is a big no-no. This isn't the first time Nina has pulled some shit like this. I don't like strangers feeling on my lady business areas, so I was hesitant. But so was the girl next to me and she seemed all tan and glistening, so we figured our pairing was the best we were going to get. She smelled REALLY good (not that I noticed......but I did.....) and was pretty, so at least it helped. Douchey Derrick and his Chippy paired off (a-duh). After he finished stretching her out (mmmhmmmm), he gave her a little pat on the butt. REEEEEEAAAALLLY?! This is not some 3 on 3 pick-up basketball game where she just made some really awesome shot from the balcony or something. This is YOGA. Stop it PLEASE. You have entered a new level of annoyance for me Douchey Derrick.

And the side chatter continued. I was ready to punch a pony at this point. As my Depeche Mode friends will understand..."Enjoy the Silence." PLEASE. I feel like anyone practicing yoga should embrace that. So finally we're at the last 10 minutes of yoga, about to practice our Wheel pose, and these 2 girls just walk in. They're busy chatting and are COMPLETELY oblivious to the fact that a yoga class is still going on. Finally, Nina says "Um..we're still in a yoga session" and one of the girls goes "Oh my God! Like, I didn't-Oh My God." But they just stood there, unsure of what to do. Then Nina kinda head motioned towards the door and they left. Weird.

As I was leaving the locker room, not feeling like I had the best yoga session ever, but at least feeling stretched out, I caught a glimpse of Douchey Derrick and his Chippy MAKING OUT in front of the studio. Sha-What? Stop. Stop it now. You're going to see her again after you change your clothes. This has GOT to stop. You need to stop. I'm serious. I can't handle you anymore.

My night continued to get worse. I had to take my Dizzle (also known as Jordan...he is the LoschDog) to the vet. $200 later, a conversation about ear surgery, and an e-collar that he tried to take off until 1am completely wore me out. I was tired, hungry, and frustrated. I laid a blanket down on the floor and that calmed him. He finally slept and I slept with him on the floor until ManLosch came home from his night shift.

I need a pick-me up. Seriously. And remembering that I have to work this weekend does NOT help. :(

Never a bad time to shop

Those that know me, know that I like to shop. So sue me! I like to shop. I don't always buy anything, but even just browsing makes me happy. And I have a few weaknesses, such as H&M, the GAP, Nine West....the list goes on. But I have one special place in my heart for one particular shopping mall. It's called SkyMall. Yes, that's EXACTLY the SkyMall I'm talking about. The free magazine in the seatback pocket right behind the instructional pamphlet that tells you what to do in case the plane crashes? Yea, THAT magazine. Because to be honest, if the plane is going to crash, at least I looked through things I wanted to buy and laughed about them rather than spending time perfecting my tuck and roll and fetal position that will inevitably NOT save me if we crash ANYWHERE. That SkyMall.

I have a ritual. During take-off, if the airline has SkyMall, I HAVE to flip through it. It helps to keep my mind off the noise that the right side of the plane is making during take-off that sounds like my Cusinart times 50, but slightly broken. Wait, maybe that was the baby crying in seat 12E. Either way, I love me some SkyMall. So the last time the ManLosch and I flew, I thought to myself "Man, this is BLOG-WORTHY. Look at all this cool stuff!" So I decided to get my airfare's worth and crammed it in Ryan's backpack. The mag made its way home and onto his futon in his office along with some of my other shit.

Fastfoward to yesterday, when I was inspired to write about SkyMall and IT WAS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND. ManLosch threw it out (he recycled it). I threw a shitfit and he just kinda blanky stared at me and said "Uh, I'm sorry?" No big; it turned out that we were picking my friend Joey up at the airport that night and he was flying USCrapways, so for sure they'd have a copy. I texted him, in hopes that he'd turn his phone on as the plane was touching down (I MAY have done it once or twice). The text read (and I quote) "Ok, so u already left. If you get this BEFORE deplaning and USCrapways has SkyMall, PLEASE BRING ME ONE!!! U know, the magazine :-) its free, its not theft:)" Because LaLosch has taken a few things from planes that weren't necessarily "free" before, but I decided that since I had spent $200 in airfare, that the least Delta could do was suck up a few blankets. And Joey came through for me and brought me SkyMall. Love ya Joey.

I absolutely HAD to share with you all the crap that I NEED from SkyMall. Because whoever came up with the idea to shop WHILE in the sky for COMPLETELY useless shit is a genius. I now present to you all my useless SkyMall crap:

The Marshmallow Shooter: Because I need a Nerf-type gun that only shoots marshmallows at people. But how awesome would that thing be?! I would shoot people with marshmallows from my living room window as they got off the bus. It's dishwasher safe AND comes with a target to practice with.

The Easy iPod Media Sharer: Because this contraption looks a little like the iPod's are scissoring or having some kind of data sex. Love it.

gogo Kidz© Travelmate: Because I want my future kid to look like I'm pulling him/her as a suitcase. It boasts a "quick release strap" that allows you to go from carseat to kid-on-wheels in seconds! The "quick release strap" also allows your kid to go from yours to kidnapped in just seconds!!

Trips to Vegas: Because nothing says flying to another destination then me shopping for a trip to Vegas on a completely different airline (I'm such a bitch).

Shit to put in my non-existent garden: Because everyone needs a zombie/meerkat/yeti/lion in a tree/sumo wrestler in their yard. It's that simple. The real question is why WOULDN'T you buy this for your yard? Hmm??

The NeckPro Traction Device: Because I need a device that hangs over a door to "reduce neck pain." So I'm expected to just insert my head into this contraption, that HANGS over a door to fix my neck and other maladies? So when the police come and see a 100lb girl hanging from the door from asphyxiation, no one's gonna question it? Just gonna look the other way huh?

Mailbox Chime: Because I sit at home waiting for the mail to come. No more will I have to look through the mail slot because I'll know EXACTLY when the mail comes. Because I stalk the postman like that. Because I apparently don't have a job and I need to know when all our bills come through the slot.

AND LAST BUT NOT CERTAINLY LEAST........

The Slanket: Because the Snuggie wasn't a rip-off enough. Someone came up with the Slanket. You already know how I feel about the Snuggie, so realllllllly, this shouldn't be a surprise. It's "not your ordinary blanket." DUH PEOPLE! It's a Slanket! And the Slanket comes in 5 colors. Take THAT Snuggie.

Next time you fly, just take out the SkyMall in your seatback pocket. No really, just DO IT, because there's so much AWESOME stuff in there. And it's so much better than reading about the flotation devices in the overhead compartment. Now don't forget to secure your mask before old man Skippy's next to you. Instead, you should secure his neck traction device. I hear it works wonders for that pain in your neck.

From The Soul

Having 3 older brothers really does connect you with certain genres of music. What I'm about to share with you is something that I can distinctly remember growing up on: De La Soul. My brothers bumped De La Soul like it was the last hip-hop group alive. Plus, I used to think Sharif looked like Posdonus (for those that DON'T know....PlugOne......if you STILL don't know...."now you tease my PlugOne style, and my PlugOne spectacles....). So I can remember trying out the RunningMan in my green sweatpants in the living room to my favorite song: Me, Myself, and I.
Below, you shall find one of my favorite hip-hop groups. Please enjoy.

La Losch Funk

So it's July and I've barely seen the sun. And La Losch has not quite been herself lately (I'm so awesome that I can speak in the 3rd person).

Constant rain, no sun, no warm weather. It's been a depressing few months for me. I'm trying hard to shake this weird funk, so I'm throwing myself into writing more in the next few weeks. Shh, don't disturb me.

Oh yea, I'm back from Canada. No Jared, there were no cars with square wheels. That was a nice break from the usual, but I'm back to the funk. La Losch Funk. I'd like to shake it. And I'm open to suggestions (other than moving, we signed a lease for another year, so yea...).

Canada Bound, Ay

I'm headed to Canada tomorrow morning bitches. Which means I'm traveling internationally. Which means I don't have an international cell phone plan. Which means, NO MOBILE BLOGGING (sad panda face).

However, my hotel has free Canadian internets in the room, so we'll see. I don't wanna get charged for that internet money(if you DON'T know this reference.....then God help us all). A few of my friends have found it quite ironic that I'm leaving the country for the 4th of July. It is a little ironic, but you know what? I'm full of ironic twists and turns, so shut up and read my blog.

I'm going with my best friend, his roommate, and her friend. And apparently, our mutual friend will be up there too. Why is everyone going to Montreal for the 4th of July? Either way, I have to find my passport. Actually, Ryan has to find my passport. If I didn't have Ryan, I probably would lose my hand in the dishwasher or something. Anytime I get some important document (hmmm..like a passport...a marriage certificate..), he immediately takes it from me like a little kid and stores it somewhere secret and safe, because if I ever found out where it was, I'd somehow lose it within 30 seconds of possession. I'll let him pack my bag too. He always packs my bag when we go somewhere because if I did it, a bet a goat would end up in my bag, because I'm a horrible packer. I just throw stuff in and call it a day. He rolls things, organizes shit, and somehow can fit 3 days worth of clothes for me AND him in ONE CARRY-ON piece of luggage. No ladies...he is NOT up for grabs. He is MY personal assistant, thank YOU very much. :)

So anyway, I'll try to keep you in the Canadian loops. I'll miss you all terribly (no seriously, I will).

Until then, here's Reason #583 why you should never fly into O'Hare: http://www.cnn.com/2009/TRAVEL/07/02/airport.delays/index.html

(You will miss my randomness for the next 3 days...don't lie. Muah. Smooches)