LaLosch becomes ManLosch

I promise that I haven't completely turned into a man, but um, I totally bought Irish Spring today and am loving the way it makes me feel so fresh AND so clean (thanks Outkast!).

I have also fallen in love this weekend......with this baby:

I am the proud owner of this recliner now. My pony punching co-worker Jared (also known as "j" in some of my posts) gave this to me for FREE since he's moving. It's been a lifelong dream of mine to own a recliner, and so I begged ManLosch if I could have it. He hesitated and I said loudly "IT'S FREEEEEEEE." He was still hesitant but gave in. He absolutely hates recliners (which to me is against a cardinal man law or something). I even offered a trial period, and if it didn't work out, we could easily just bring it to Salvation Army.

Well folks, I think it's working out. I'm writing this blog WHILE IN the recliner. And I'm reclined too. And I'm happy. This may just be the honeymoon period, but who knows what's in store for me and the recliner? This is just the beginning.

Another Losch Pointless Discussion

So I asked ManLosch a question yesterday during breakfast about citizenship. Here was the conversation that took place:

me: "So, let's think hypothetically ok? Let's say a kid was born in Antarctica. What would his/her citizenship be?"
manlosch: "That wouldn't happen."
me: "Did you not hear me say HYPOTHETICAL?"
manlosch: "Yeah but that still can't happen. They won't allow it."
me: "Who is 'they'?"
manlosch: "I dunno. Hospitals and law enforcement and important people."
me: "But just think hypothetically for a minute. Let's say it was for research. And a researcher and her husband got it on and she got pregnant. And she gave birth while on Antarctica. Would the kid's citizenship default to the parents?"
manlosch: "No." (Then he told me something about John McCain and where he was born and how something something something Darkside, I don't quite remember)
me: "But why can't the kid be Antarctican?"
manlosch: "That's not even real."
me: "So he'd be American?"
manlosch: "No, he'd be Czechoslovakian."

Sometimes it takes awhile, but I can get ManLosch engaged in some pretty pointless discussions with me. :)

Dinos in Disguise

I had a dream last night. I'm about to share with you the dream I had. And when I share this dream with you, DO NOT LAUGH LIKE MANLOSCH DID IN THE CAR.

So I totally dreamt that I was in the 3rd Transformers movie. It was "Transformers 3: Return of Jurassic Park." So yea. "Jurassic Park" essentially found it's way into the "Transformers" movie and there were alot of explosions, ripped tank tops, and guns. I was the Shia LaFluff (except totally looking like Megan Fox) in the movie. This is why dreams are great. I got to have the body of Megan Fox. Score.

I got to drive Bumblebee and the LoschDog was my sidekick. And we drove around town shooting bad dinosaurs and kickin' ass against T-Rex. LoschDog was actually really bright and would hand me my weapons and bullets and shit. Then Optimus Prime came out of nowhere and we started kicking ass like we were best friends from around the way. T-Rex trying to bite my arm off? That would be one swift Optimus Prime punch to the dino face. Booyah.

So I tell ManLosch my dream right? And he busted out laughing in the car. I told him to stop, that I really had this dream, and it was really really cool at the time. I said "You know what? My dream had all the elements of a Michael Bay movie. Just you wait. WAIT." He laughed some more at the ridic-ness of it. Fastfoward to dinner; we had one of his friends over to hang out. We're enjoying my awesome brisket and I decided to tell ManLoschFriend about my dream. And guess what?

He thinks it's an AWESOME idea.

You hear that Michael Bay? I just came up with your next movie. And it was easy. You can pair up with Spielberg again and hire me to play the hot chick who knows how to punch ponies and kick ass.

You can just write that check out to "LaLosch" Mike. Thanks.

The Name Game

I went to get breakfast at Panera this morning because I worked the early shift at work, in addition to my normal hours. 7am is too early to really eat breakfast I think, so I walked over to get a breakfast sammie at about 8:30am.

I gave the woman my order. She asked for my name. I said "Alexis."
(I never give Lexi because I can only IMAGINE how they would butcher up the spelling of that)

She said "Uh, I'm just going to put 'Alex' ok?"

B*$ch did I SAY my name was Alex? If I wanted my friends and family to think I crossed over to being a male, then yes, Alex would have been MORE than appropriate. Why can't you add the extra two letters? Do 2 extra letters cost more money? Would I get taxed more? Would I get less cheese on my sandwich because of the extra effort of adding the "-is" to my name? Would you expire and fall onto the cash register because you punched in two more letters?

Panera, PLEASE. Everytime I go there anyway and give you Alexis, you come up with these doozies:
Alexes
Lexis
Elexis
Aleces
Lexus
Alexia
Alexys
And there have been others.

Stop the madness. Srsly.

Lexi's Adventures

Ok, I have SO many things I'd love to update you on, and I'm not sure if I should go chronologically, but I'm just going to be a little random and first tell you about my gym adventures today:

So this month, you can bring a friend for free on Wednesdays and ManLosch came with me to the gym tonight. Drumroll please.......he came to yoga! Usually there are more guys there, but for some reason the class was small today. The Chippy was there but Douchey Derrick was not. I wanted ManLosch to see the exchanges between them but its ok. The Chippy brought a free friend too. No big. So the instructor Nina says "I want to make an effort to learn the regulars' names, so..." Then she points to me and says "I see you alot, every week, in the back, right? What's your name?" I said "Lexi." She said "Ohhh, that's nice. Like Lexington?"

WTF?!?!?!???! LEXINGTON?!!

I said "No, it's short for Alexis. But I prefer Lexi." She said "Oh, that's nice. Oh, and who is sitting next to you?" I said "It's my husband. Free friend." She seemed very excited that there were 2 free friends in her class that day. But I secretly cursed myself because NOW THE CHIPPY KNOWS MY NAME! And she knows I'm married. Therefore, she already knows too much about me, and will now share that information with ElDouche when he returns. Grrr....Either way, Ryan said he liked yoga ok. He might have liked it more if he knew what the poses and stuff were, but said he was sure he'd like the 2nd or 3rd class more. I don't think he'll come next week, but he mentioned playing basketball if he could come with me. Boys.

So anyway, as most of you know, I've been back and forth alot the last 2 weeks. Unfortunately, there were two deaths; one on Ryan's side and one on mine. Chicago and then New York in 2 weeks with a little Boston in between is a little tiring, but it's family. And we love our families. On our flight back to Boston, of course it was delayed and some guy was yelling about the delay to the point of a flight attendant telling him that they would keep him off the flight. Then as we boarded and pulled away from the gate, the plane lost power. Then we went back to the gate, and tried to leave again and lost power again. Then we sat on the plane for 45 minutes while they figured it out. Then we pulled away again and a family THEN decided that they didn't feel safe and wanted to get off. So we had to pull back up the gate, wait for them to disarm the doors AGAIN, let them off, and then we FINALLY left. We got home at 3:30am on Monday. I went to work that day.

Tuesday, my mom told me about the next death. We drove to NY Friday morning. The wake was interesting. The funeral home was playing music in the room. "No Air" by Jordin Sparks began to play. And Michael Jackson "Human Nature" played too. Um....WHAT?! I'm really serious, I PROMISE you that I'm not kidding about that.

Yea, it's been an interesting two weeks. I'll give better details later maybe. I'm just happy enough to be home, see my dog, and sleep in my own bed. Still trying to find that peace of mind.......

Doritos, Cheetos, and Fritos, Oh My!

Normally, I don't blog about work. But you know what, I'm not really talking about work. I'm about to share with you one of my deepest frustrations known to employees around the globe:

Yes. Shitty Vending Machine Options.

Many an employee suffers at the hands of SVMO. I noticed today just HOW shitty the options are. I was eating lunch in our break room and my friend J (punch-a-pony) walks in. He makes his usual joke about buying the Chuckles.

Yea, we have CHUCKLES in our vending maching. Chuckles. Wtf is a Chuckle ANYWAY?!

So J says "I'm totally gonna buy the Chuckles." And then I really thought about what's in the vending maching. There are about 8 different chip options. Of those 8, 6 of them have some sort of cheese on them: Cheetos, Nacho Cheese Doritos, Cheezits, Sun Chips Harvest Cheddar, Smartfood White Cheddar popcorn, and Cheddar & Sour Cream chips. Then there are plain Lays chips, that really, no one likes. And FRITOS. Who the f*%k eats Fritos?! If you want to pump a load of salt and nasty overprocessed curly tortilla chips in your body, go for it.

Then we've got the few things us normal workers would eat like Peanut M&M's. A Twix every now and then. And the all important Cup O' Noodles.

What else is in there? PayDays (J had to explain to me that these are basically freakin sticks of caramel dunked in a barrel of peanuts), a $2.00 Zoe PowerBar, Apple Cinnamon oatmeal, Brown Sugar Pop-Tarts, Plain ChexMix, TrailMix, and Cream Cheese and Chives crackers. And we still have the Chuckles guys. Don't forget the Chuckles. Another co-worker sitting at the table confessed to me that he has to come to the vending maching 3 times before he succumbs to finally buying some form of a "snack." But it takes 3 tries before he can even force himself to do anything about his hunger pangs.

I've decided to write a passive-aggressive note to the vending machine man (because this isn't really something that the company has control over) and stick it on the inside of the vending machine so when he comes to fill it, he will see this through the glass:

Dear Vending Machine Man,

Please stop putting shit in the vending machine. Have you noticed that you haven't had to refill the Chuckles? Yes. Because no one EATS the Chuckles. About 95% of the company can't even tell you what a Chuckle is. Please give us snacks that aren't covered in cheese. I would like to live past 35 years of age, and might appreciate a healthier snack, or maybe even the Doritos that MOST people like (which would be the blue bag). Please consider our plea. If you would like to find out what we like to snack on, you are more than welcome to survey the floor and we will happily assist you in choosing appropriate products for the machine.
Thank you for your time and at least for giving us Peanut M&M's.

The Floor

Punch That Pony

So I have a friend who is obsessed with me punching ponies. Actually he's just obsessed with pony punching it seems. And anytime I have a "moment" he'll ask "So did you punch a pony?" So that's usually the new phrase of how angry someone can get. Pony-punching anger. Anyway, check out the brief conversation I had with said friend at work:

me: "my hand itches. what does that mean?"

j: "huh?"

me: "you know when people say your ears itch, someone is talking about you"

j: "uh.."

me: "oh i mean when your ears burn! when your ears burn someone is talking about you."

j: "oh yea. thats right."

me: "so my hand is itching. what does that mean again?"

j: "it means you need to go find a pony to punch."

Updates I Promise

Look, I know I've been a slacker. I know. I promise I will update you all soon with all the happenins of my life. My husband's grandmother passed away last week and my brother's grandmother passed away yesterday morning. Needless to say, I'm not having the best 2 weeks ever. But I've still got stories and I promise that they will get shared VERY SOON.

Indeed.

Thanks for your patience. Any questions, comments, complaints?
Please forward them to Mr. Ryan Losch.

Stay classy San Diego.


LaLosch

Da Lobster

Yea, I'll visit a Red Lobster WHENEVER I can. We're in the Losch stomping grounds for a long weekend and I've already had Steak n' Shake and White Castle. Red Lobster just tops it all off. I'm full and happy. I'll bring you some biscuits.
Sent from my BlackBerry® smartphone with SprintSpeed

Stuff Lexi Likes

Ok, so I own "Stuff White People Like." But c'mon, I'm married to a white man! I feel like it's a sort of bible, if you will, to learn the ways of my husband's people. But I thought I thought it was so hilarious, that I bought the book at a Christian Lander book reading in Harvard Sqaure and he signed my copy of the book. He wrote "Lexi, Welcome." :)

So anyway, ManLosch (and a few other friends and relatives) are convinced that I'm part white, and that I should go through the book and find things that I like. So I will be sharing with you what I have in common and at the end, how white I actually am. And if you can't find the humor in this, stop now. Because I find the humor in this; I'm completely comfortable in my own skin and being a lovely black woman, so if you WON'T find the humor in this, just go watch Diddy's new reality show or something (yea, it's on right now, I'm "watching" it).

#15 Yoga
I love yoga. No I won't go out and buy $80 pants for it, but I agree that you can't do yoga in jeans or JUST regular sweatpants. And I don't dump large amounts of money into paying for it (just part of my gym membership). But yes, I love me some yoga, except for Douchey Derrick.

#24 Wine
Look, I'm sorry, I love wine! It's quicker than a mixed drink for me and goes oh so great with dinner. I don't really know where they come from, I embrace all wines. So does that really make me THAT white? I don't discriminate.

#25 David Sedaris
WHAT?! He's a funny man! And yes, I would pay to hear/see him read. And I would totally set up the jokes in my head because I'd know they'd be coming. And I'd talk about it later. And I'd make you feel awful for not going.

I encourage you to find a copy of the book and read it so you can follow along with my updates until I ultimately tell you how "white" I am. Because if you DON'T get a copy, I'm going to make you feel awful for not picking it up and reading it.

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.
Customers who bought Chicken in a Can also bought:




Yes. Bread in a can.

Customers who viewed Slappy Sue's Chicken in a Can also viewed:

Sweet Sue's Chicken & Dumplings (12 ct.)
Heinz Spotted Dick Sponge Pudding
Swanson Premium Chunk Chicken in Water
Canned Piranha Meat
Fresh Whole Rabbit

Rabbit. On Amazon. Whole rabbit. Fresh. Fresh whole rabbit on Amazon.
Customers who viewed Fresh Whole Rabbit also viewed:

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)