I want words - to make you sweat...

I think you've read before that I would consider myself a word nerd. I really do love words and language. I'm not saying I'm the best at it or anything, but there's something in my brain that just hangs onto words. I had a friend who said the word "reciprocate" to me on the phone the other day. It's like the word was in my own mouth. Like I could roll it around and practically taste it. Like it's no longer a word but a tangible entity. For me, I would describe that word as round and wet and tart. Does that even make sense? Does anyone else experience that?

Anyways, on my way down to San Diego this weekend I was having a bit of trouble with my FM transmitter and started scavenging for CD's. I'm pretty much all digital so it was a gamble if I had any at all! What I came across was something I bought at a poetry/spoken word event I attended last year. I hadn't really listened to it and now I had silence in the car to soak it all in.

Listen to this and tell me it's not the sexiest thing you've ever heard. The words and his expression of the power of words, plain and simple, turns me on.

My Nemesis has Returned!!!!!

That fucking bear is back... That dirty bear... He haunts my dreams... Hell, he stalks my fucking house!

Has anyone else received mail directly from Charmin? Of all the people in the world, it comes to me? ME?!

Read HERE, HERE, and HERE for my feelings on toilet paper advertising.

You all say I should quit talking about it, but what do I have to do? Take out a restraining order on this foul feces covered bear and his poorly hygiened family to make the assaults in my home stop? Look what just came in the mail!!

What the hell does that even mean? For a clean you will notice? What sort of "UNcleanness" is the general public experiencing right now where this marketing slogan is getting results?

I know I keep writing about it, but in all reality, I'm dumbfounded. I'm speechless. I'm in awe! Also, I'm pretty fucking offended too.

Can someone make it stop!?

Louie Louie Louis CK

I seem to have a thing for severely inappropriate comedians. Like when you have to listen to them alone because you're not sure any of your friends could handle it. Or like when you're pretty sure he has serial killer potential.

The two shows I'm obsessed with right now are Louis CK (Louie on FX) and Daniel Tosh (Tosh.0 on Comedy Central).
I love both their comedy and their TV shows. You should check them out! Just don't judge me or think of me when you watch/listen to them though!

The Golden Boy

What's it like? What's it like to be spoiled rotten? Some people may think my life was something to be fancied. Yeah, we lived in a nice house. So what, I had a pony. Maybe we had the RV's and the houseboat and the speed boat and the jet skis. Possibly you heard we traveled around the country for weeks at a time. Okay, I admit, we lived WELL.

But no.

My bitterness and jealousy can be checked by NO ONE.

I don't even think I can name the WORK I did. Everything from pouring cement to digging ditches. Juicing 75 lb bags of carrots for an ailing mother dying of a brain tumor (she lived) to caring for a baby that wasn't mine. (15 yrs my junior brother) From delivering firewood to painting fences. Removing wallpaper to raking up the the fallen leaves of nearly TWO HUNDRED trees. There was no mercy. There was no cable. There was no prom, no music, no football games. I was denied after school participation in Forensics. (Not dead bodies, but debate! NERD STUFF!) Denied when I was IN school that is. I gave up my freshmen and senior year to home studies so I could serve the needs of my family. Oh and do not doubt for a second... through all of that, I brought home straight A's. I worked part time caring for my ailing grandparents. Did everything I could to prove myself a good and worthy person.

Then enter THE GOLDEN BOY. That sweet curly headed boy. The boy who does whatever the fuck he wants to and gets rewarded for simply existing. He's brought home bad grades. He's had some "incidents" with the law. He's fully enveloped in teenage angst and apathy. Yet, he's the GOLDEN BOY.

I want good for him. Hell, I want the BEST for him. BUT some days I think he needs to fucking earn it. Pay his dues like I PAID. I don't know why I fight for him. Mom says it's because I'm fighting for myself. She's probably right.

Drive a brand new car? Live in the city in a mansion across the street from the school and your after school robotics program? Have a cell phone? Get a brand new iPod touch? Take out of town trips with the school? Play your video games and have your friends over? I die a little inside every time I hear about it.

Do you know I got yelled out for reading too much? For always having my nose buried in a book and not watching where we were driving? I begged to go to school on time even when it was foggy day schedule! I ditched class to go to OTHER classes!

REALLY? Yeah, really.

Carry on with your bad self, but steer clear of me. My vitriol and jealousy knows no bounds.

What are you reading?

An interesting subject was brought up on The Beehive about reading. My mom and I have always been AVID readers, but it seems in the last few years I don't know anyone who's reading anything. (I'm talking actual books here. Not blogs or online stuff or magazines which I read as well) I found this a little disheartening. However, hearing all these people's book choices was super cool!

I'm currently reading "Eating Animals" and I wonder if people rolls their eyes when I tell them that?

I did see one guy reading a book about George Washington and this was like the strangest thing ever. I totally judged him.  Ha Ha.

I never read romance novels or history topics so I began wondering what my mini book collection says about me. Here's some of my favorites that I keep in the nightstand next to my bed.  Sorta runs the gamut doesn't it?

I don't know what it means.

Gotta Go -Gotta Go -Gotta Go -GOTTA GO!

So drinking water sucks. Like major. Who's with me? This is flippin' ridiculous!

OMG, your body is 75% water.
HEY, your brain can like die.
WHOA, you've never been hungry, it's a false reaction from your dehydrated body trying to tell you you're thirsty.
UMMM, the only thing more important than water is air.

GAG GAG GAG

You know what's more important? Me not being in the bathroom 75% of the day! That's what.

Do you realize that by the time I get to work at 8 (okay okay, 8:20) I'm already DYING to pee for the third, YES THIRD, time of the day. Is this not upsetting to you?

So you're supposed to drink all this water, but isn't frequent urination a problem? I see commercials for "overactive" bladders and you need a pill for that. Also, I thought if you peed too many times a day it was a warning sign for diabetes.

OH. MY. GOD. How will I ever know if I have diabetes now !?!?!?!?

You know that feeling where you don't have to go to pee?.... YOU DO??.... Because I haven't felt that in days. DAYS!  I may have talked about my hatred for water HERE too.

I read on this one site you should have 12 quarts of water a day, double that if you're exercising!!! After using my google conversion chart awesome math skillz, I realized that's anywhere from 3 - 6 GALLONS of water a day. I had to call and yell at my mother for that one. Sorry mom. Of course, she says her rule of thumb was to divide your weight in half and that's how many ounces of water you should drink a day. The women in our family must all be overachievers because both of us are drinking around 90 oz a day! DAMN that's A LOT of water!

Then I read somewhere that says if you don't pee every 3 - 4 hours it's a sign of a problem. Will the medical community please tell me they think it's a problem if you have to go every 3 - 4 MINUTES? Can I get some pills here STAT!?!?

Yeah, not cool dude.

An experiment in vanity...

There is so much in the media about celebrities and their appearances. People are lambasting Heidi Montag for getting plastic surgery. Granted, I think she's not so smart and was pretty enough already, but actually I think she looks fabulous now.

Then there was the whole revolt against Demi Moore for possibly photoshopping herself to look better. What, pray tell, is so wrong with a 40+ year old women who will be appearing on a magazine cover looking her best?? Do you want her up there with no makeup??

Oprah just made a crack about the cover of her most recent magazine and how she looked at it while she was actually at the breakfast table and it made her laugh because she didn't look ANYTHING like that.

I don't know. It's just started to bother me. Maybe there is something wrong with me, but I like those magazines. I like perfection. I expect perfection. I don't know. I was raised that you should always put your best foot forward. I take the time to put make up on. I get my hair done religiously. I like to wear decent clothes. And, TRUST ME, finding good clothes that fit my body is laborious and hard.

So I thought to myself - are the pictures online representative of me in real life? I don't know! Do I put forward the REAL me or a puffed and fluffed up version of me? I don't know!

I can tell you this much though, I take a lot of pictures! I fiddle with finding the right light and getting a good angle and cropping out the weird stuff and hey, if you own photoshop you better use it right?!?!

So, I said it last post and I'll say it again this post - FULL DISCLOSURE! I got nothing to hide so here's me, in the raw. Not so pretty now, eh?

What would you do if photographers were following you at every moment? Seeing even that middle one makes me want to have at least 18 different surgeries and that's what I friggen look like every day!

Which would YOU want to on a magazine cover? Ummm, PhotoShop just became my new BFF. Of course, I purposely didn't smile and that's not even a good picture with good lighting. In fact, that was straight window sunlight which is very unflattering... but anyways.

It was just a little experiment. What are your thoughts? What would you do?

On a scale of 1 to 10...

How gross would you say crotch sweat is?

I'm gonna say it's about an 8 - UGH!

Can you tell me why it is that I have a trainer who works my calves and my quads and my arms and my abs, but the only thing that sweats is my crotch?

Nothing more awesome than a cute 21 year old musclebound trainer seeing that. Yeah, wow, sorry Erik, how come I have to show you my absolute worst in order to eventually look my best?

Here I am, twice a week, letting you see me at my worst - complaining, in pain, sweaty, and smelly.

Yeah, WAAAAAY T. M. I.   I know, I know.

Sorry.

Is NOTHING sacred?

This post requires back story - SORRY - put your reading glasses on, it's about to get intense. I have issues. You knew that already didn't you? :( Well, fooey on you!

Anyways, I may **MAY** have a slight problem with toilet paper advertising campaigns.
Commence reading HERE and HERE.

I like getting mail. Even if it's bills, I get really excited to seem my name on something. I'm weird I know, HOWEVER, this... This is HIGHLY inappropriate. This is OFFENSIVE.



I've never been more horrified in all my life! SERIOUSLY! Soften your "bottom" line...?  NO FUCKING WAY I just read that. NO WAY.

We will not even DISCUSS the need for "UltraStrong" toilet paper.

In fact, dear friends, I don't even think I can have this discussion anymore. It just makes me ill! Assaulting me in my home with this dirty pervert bear waggling his feces covered rear at me - I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! Make it stop, will you? PLEASE!!

Hey Hey! Look at me, I want in!

The word passion is a funny word. For all intents and purposes, I'd like to classify myself as a passionate person. There is an intensity deep inside me. How I talk and how I eat and how I work ebbs energy and desire. (NO, not in a sexual way!) I guess I shouldn't be talking about myself like that - makes me seem special which I wasn't trying to do.

Mostly, I'm writing because this passion, this intensity, this energy is like a drug. I can't get enough of it. I love being around people who are equally as passionate about what they do.  No one has an endless supply of energy - you have to do things and surround yourself with people that refuel you.

Here's my problem: I WANT IN. You like what you do? I want to do that too!

When I watched people running by my house in the Two-Cities Marathon, there was cheering and camaraderie and a goal and a reward and god-dammit I want to run a marathon!! I saw them in the throws of near death. I have 53% lung capacity. I haven't run since 4th grade. BUT WHEN I SAW the commitment, the excitement, the PASSION all I could think was "I should start training!" I went and bought running shoes. I hired a trainer at the gym. Isn't this ridiculous?

There's so much good in this world and sometimes we don't know it until a friend shows us the way. I just can't shake the thought that if someone else loves something, maybe I'll love it too! Am I missing out on something?

I know someone online who likes to knit. Most of what she talks about involves yarn and dyeing yarn and meeting with groups to knit together. If you see her at a dj event or a concert or even a grocery store checkout, she's knitting. There's no denying her passion for this venture. I WANT TO DO THAT TOO!! Maybe you don't know this, but my grandma taught me how to crochet. I have a blanket half done in my closet? Do you know I dug that sucker out and I have set myself a goal of finishing it by spring time???

Truthfully, sometimes I think I need an intervention. I just keep dividing myself and dividing myself until I'm doing 10 millions things. I'm chasing that high. I want to eat and talk and sleep and watch TV and cook and sit and blink and do EVERYTHING at level 10.

There is another woman I've met who is well spoken and funny and kind. Her passion? Rescue dogs. She fosters dogs, helps out at the shelters, and lives and breathes finding these pups good homes. I work 12 hours a day, I'm training to be a runner, and trying to crochet a blanket. Shouldn't I foster a dog too? I WANT IN! Who loves their dog more than me? Shouldn't I spend weekends doing that?

~HELP ME~

I already have 2 blogs, a cooking show, a full time job, and a family that gets about zero of my attentions... STOP ME! When you divide and take on more and more, you can do a lot of varied things, but you can't do them well. It saddens me to know that by trying all these new things, I'm essentially giving up the option of being the best at any one thing.

Does anyone else experience this? What's it like to find one thing that you love and perfecting what you do?

What I've been up to... And FREE PORN!

Hey everyone...

MISS ME? I've been busy supporting our economy! In the world of shopping, NO ONE can hang with me in a shopping marathon. Oh, you think you can? We'll talk when hour 6 rolls around... They ALL talk the talk, but no one has ever walked the walk.

Well, with the exception of MY MOTHER - that women will BREAK YOU! She's got a handicap placard and she knows how to use it! She also knows how to use her children as pack mules to haul the scrap metal or whatever she purchased that one time that weighed like 200 lbs back to the car. HA HA, just kidding mom, I LOVE YOU! Well, that was a true story, so not really kidding...

A N Y W A Y S... Move along, nothing to see here !!!

I don't have enough time to put on a fashion show for you, but I got a little be of everything. Jackets, closed toed shoes, a shrug, shirts, jewelry... Gotta prep for winter, ya know?! However, every shopping trip produces something SO EXCITING, I get worked up just THINKING about it. Feast your eyes on my new lady friend. Yeah, I pretty much went lesbian just for her and her hot sister.

Yes, I know this is disturbing. I'm sorry. I LOVE SHOES! and Guess shoes, particularly those by Marciano are starting to multiply in my closet. Sometimes I just sit on the floor in my closet and look at all my little pretties. Is that weird? WHAT? WHY?!?! It makes me so happy though!

Wanna see what totally turns me on? Here's some FREE PORN for you. Go ahead, it's work safe... What? Don't you trust me? Just click it! C'MON!!

Speaking of fashion - it's a lot of work to even look semi put together! I think that's about the time some people just wave the white flag. They surrender. They. dont. care. This concept is foreign to me from every vantage point. On that note, I give to you the worst dressed man of the week.

Alright, enough of that nonsense... Don't you want to hear about other thing's that I think are cool that actually make me uncool?  LOOK AT THE LITTLE BASIL BABIES in my Aerogarden! They're growing up so fast... Why just a couple weeks ago I remember...

Okay, well, shoes, porn, and basil is about as wide a range of topics as I'm willing to cover today. I'm gonna call it a night now! G'night everyone!

Do people eat like this?

I cook a lot, but sometimes I just like an antipasto plate for dinner. Do other people do that? (Better question: do other people take a picture of just about every meal they eat? ha ha)

Here's my dinner from Sunday night:


I cut up an heirloom tomato with mozzarella, fresh cracked pepper and salt, garlic olive oil, and balsamic glaze with basil. Then I had some couscous with arugula and a sliced avocado with olive oil, lemon, garlic, and tobasco.

For me, the above = HEAVEN!

What do regular people eat? Spaghetti? Fast Food? For a while I was going over to my parents and cooking dinner and my dad made a comment along the lines of "the food you cook isn't normal..." Don't get me wrong, he loved it and ate all of it, but it got me thinking - what is normal? Hamburgers? BBQ? I honestly don't know.

Making cleaning fun...

Yeah, I'm a bitch... a big ole one too! I should be writing about how awesome my roommates are (Which I usually do BTW) but I'm also terribly terribly flawed.

I'm pretty sure they are playing a game with me. They have to be. I think the game is to see how quickly they can get the girl with MILD OCD symptoms to go completely lunatic raving mad insane.

Like how is it possible to open a closet door in the hallway and NOT SHUT IT completely? How do you leave it cracked? EVERY TIME YOU OPEN IT? HOW? Please teach me... because (and this may be a rather bold statement) I'm pretty sure that if my house was on fire and my most prized possessions were in that closet and all I had to do was grab them and run to safety - EVEN THEN I would still close the door completely.

I'm a STRONG believer in the philosophy "A place for everything and everything in it's place." I don't know if that's a philosophy actually. A statement? A quote? Let's make it a lifestyle. It's my lifestyle! I have little trays and a certain order I put things in. My kitchen drawers are very "consistent"... That's the word I'm going to use to downplay OCD, ok? Sort of like the hoarder who says they have a "cluttering" problem.

Anyways, I have a little caddy I use to hold my earth friendly cleaning supplies. They are for everyone to use as I "encourage" cleaning, ya know? This is how I found my caddy after someone so generously cleaned the kitchen while I was at work.

Let me just assure you, it does NOT look like that!

Look closer... This is me being clinically diagnosed INSANE!

INSANE!!!!


Someone tell me what is going on here. How come the bottles aren't upright? I.don't.understand.
DOES
NOT
COMPUTE

Was this a new way to make cleaning fun? Do we stand across the room and throw the cleaning bottles at the caddy and see if you can make a goal or what? It's like a physical impossibility for me to do anything like this.

And what am I supposed to do? HA! I just straightened it and said thanks for cleaning the kitchen, but oh my god, I wonder if they'll ever know how crazy I am. You don't think I'm crazy, DO YOU?

And Oh, how I pray...

Oh, how I pray.

Do you pray? REALLY pray? I mean, REALLY REALLY?

Oh, how I pray.

A prayer that makes you break into a cold sweat. One of such intensity it brings you to your knees. A feverish pleading with the forces that be. A hand wringing, heart beating, brow furrowed prayer. A desperate yet quiet cry and yet the response I get is, disappointingly, what I asked for - NOTHING.

You see, what I want, NO, what I NEED is nothing. I scream for it, for space. I beg for it, for time. I dream of it, a vacuum. I sacrifice for it, for silence. Sweet elusive silence.

AND Oh, how I pray.

Please, god, buddha, mother earth, PLEASE, where is the off switch?

There is no psychologist, no drink, no pill that quiets her voice.

Eyes open or closed, asleep or awake, ever present she speaks. Every fear, contradiction, judgement, change, difference, and opinion. Every scenario, possibility, and action. Every blink, every risk, every danger. She speaks. Without hesitation or even pause for breath, she rambles on, droning past intention and pleadings...

And OH HOW I PRAY, just for one minute, PLEASE let there be silence.

There is no TV show, no nature walk, no song that stops her dialog, her voice.

Am I crazy? Or am I just that sharp? Oh, how I pray for dullness. Oh, how I pray for mediocrity. Oh, how I mouth the words in silent imitation of my deepest desire - for there to be no voice.

For stillness.

Presence.

Silence.

Peace.

Silent observations of a perfectly sane person...

Here's a light and fluffy post with pictures because it's late and I want to go to bed...

Does anyone else find this 5' tall advertisement amusing? Not even just a little bit raunchy? Am I really that far in the gutter? (Side note, isn't "Grande Taquito" an oxy-moron? I don't see any advertisements for 'Big Small **whatever**' but hey, I don't get out much! Spanish is a funny language.)


Be honest with me my new virtual friends. Do these "Gummy Tummies" appeal to you?
(1) I find the penguin to be a quite adorable creature personally. Therefore the thought of eating it isn't first on my mind. (Also there's that lame vegetarian thing)
(2) If times get any tougher (It's a recession you know) and some rare minature migrating penguins overtake Woodward, and I am forced to eat the afore mentioned rare miniature migrating penquins, the part I think I would enjoy THE LEAST would be biting down on their still full bellies and having said contents explode in my mouth.
Too much? Too graphic? Yeah, it's hard to be me... That was THE FIRST thing I thought when I saw these at the checkout. The second was, "I have to write a blog about this!"


Alright... I'm tired and I'm going to bed. Catch you tomorrow.

Upcoming posts you can look forward to:

* The panini I made for dinner last night
* My review of the Pizza Fusion event I went to today.

It's becoming clear to me that my expectations are waaay too high...

I'm going to complain, make fun, and generally be a catty bitch in this post... so move right along if you're not into that kind of thing.

Five things you need to know, do, or point and laugh at...

1) I have a problem with commercials. This is why I pay for TiVo. I compulsively fast forward, but every once in a while I'm assaulted by something truly disturbing. Has anyone seen the one where mother nature is an evil woman who shows up carrying a red box and gives women their "monthly gift" at uncool times like on a first date or as you are wearing all white and landing your private jet on a Hawaiian beach with girlfriends? Really? And I KNOW the illustration didn't just show a red box bouncing around in there trying to get out. Yeah... Seriously... Personally, I don't think a white bathing suit is a good idea ever, but really? I could talk for hours about this.

1a) It's about drinkability. REALLY? This is your beverage marketing slogan? It's DRINKABLE? I find this to be SOOO HUMOROUS that it is, in fact, bothersome. Not better tasting, not less filling, not low calorie... IT'S DRINKABLE? hahaha *puke* hahaha

1b) Okay, I have a serious commercial problem!!! The Charmin Toilet Paper Company MUST BE STOPPED. These filthy disgusting bears and their love of public defecation MUST BE STOPPED. I just saw one last night where they all drive around together in a car, stop in the woods, and take a big family dump. There are no words to describe my horror.

Moving On...

2) I was at Dollar Tree the other day. It was clearly the first time the lady in front of me had been there. She asks the cashier, "How much are the balloons you have over there?" He says, "I think they are a dollar." She counters with, "How much are the foil balloons?" He says, "Actually, those are a dollar too." Does she have a vision problem as well, or are the 75 EVERYTHING'S A DOLLAR posters really really confusing?

Then the people behind me bust in and ask the cashier, "How about these candy bars? The box says 59 cents." The cashier must get this a lot because he says, "Then they must be 59 cents." I however observed the sign says "2 for $1." It's a little scary going out in public sometimes. Very simple concepts confuse people and I'm terrified for the future now.

3) I have a tax man who lives up in Oakhurst. He is a strange man, but his dad used to do my dads taxes so it's sort of a family thing. Once a year I have the privilege of driving up north to cram myself into this strange uneven room. His table is just a GIANT tree stump and the ceiling slopes so that you sort of have to crawl into your chair. It's a crazy HEAVY old orangy chair and there are papers EVERYWHERE. He always keeps an ice chest behind him with Hansen's soda in it and when I leave, I come home with a little tidbit worth sharing.

A few years ago, he shared with me that he enjoys taking a dip in his spa in the morning before coming to work. Fairly normal and not noteworthy right? Did I forget to mention he is always joined by his pet turkey? HAHAHA Uhhh, what?? I was too shocked to really ask any questions, but isn't that called making soup? Isn't that how you cook lobster? I mean, turkeys shouldn't be in the spa, right? Tell me that's strange so I feel better about myself. (PS - he is the nicest guy and does a GREAT job, but I had to share the turkey thing.) I can't make this up people.

4) I had a Mountain Dew "Throwback" the other day. I don't think I have a clear understanding of what the term "Throwback" means. To me it has negative connotations. If it's no good you throw it back, right? As a dew purist, I thought it was gross. I'd rather have the original or nothing at all. High fructose corn syrup FTW!

5) I just want to talk to people who work in the food industry here at good ole #5. I know your job is hard. I know everyone is different and most people are douche's to you. I know most people don't tip well. Now that we've covered a few of the basics that I know, can we talk about some stuff? Friend to friend? I LOVE FOOD. Food and me go WAY back. It's ritualistic and comforting and practically orgasmic. That being said, I think you should understand that I am happy and excited to be in your establishment. However, lets just set a few ground rules here.

The last 3 restaurants I ate at totally fucked up the dance. Don't act like you didn't know eating out is a finely choreographed dance, it SOO is.
*Please allow me to sit down and put my purse down before you are already spewing off your specials. I'm still standing... REALLY?

*Please follow the order of things. I just ate at a place that brought my chips & salsa, guacamole, bean soup, AND entree all at the same time. Then they took my drink order!! The food was DELICIOUS, but I was so disappointed because it was too much.

*Allow me time. Speed is not everything!! Sometimes my entire plan for the night is to enjoy my companions company. I want to chitty chat and savor my tapenade and flatbread. I want to tell a funny story and then get really excited about my beet salad. I want time to reminisce while waiting in hungry expectation for my designer pizza. Get it? The waiting, the expectation, the tease... It's like sex. Can I get a little foreplay PLEASE?**

So anyways, that's what was on my mind today. :)




**Now is NOT the time for your comments to offer advice on my sex life, I'm just trying to be funny here...

Raccoons and Strippers turn out to be oddly similar

I’d like you to look at me. Look up at the top of this blog, maybe to the side, okay, even look below this post... WAIT, Oh my god, how many freakin’ pictures do I have of myself on this blog?? Apparently I should add narcissism to my list of afflictions - geeeezzzzuuussss!

Okay, ANYWAYS, back to me - LOOK AT ME! What you see folks is the the ugly face of addiction! Besides having an addictive personality (Actually, 2 random people have described me recently as “infectious” {in keeping with my narcissistic ways} which I obviously took as a compliment) I am also, quite possibly, addicted to every other possible thing you can be addicted to. To some who read this, that will come across as a rather extreme statement, lest you keep reading and discover I’m also addicted to exaggerating. How can I live larger than life unless I lie, right?

Honestly I believe the government is conspiring against me! There are some things in this life I just cannot live with out.
1) Chapstick
2) Lotion
3) Q-Tips

As I vegetarian, I find beef jerky to be exceptionally unattractive. One hour without one of the above listed products and I shrivel up and age at least 50 years. Okay, that was an exaggeration, my apologies - 30 years... I would age AT LEAST 30 years. Still you skoff? From my stationary chair, I offer you this picture of the lotion/chapsticks I have within an arms reach. And since my roommate Melissa lovingly refers to me as T-rex, that’s like 2 feet max - SERIOUSLY... I’m just sayin’...

Since I’m trying not to be a sensationalist, that HONESTLY was what I found in my desk here at work!

Here’s a new one that’s just starting to rear it’s shiny head - GLITTER. I am totally addicted to glitter. I love looking at sparkly stuff, so much so that now I apply shimmery eye shadow, glitter eye liner, and a glitter liquid liner to my eyes. I have the prettiest eyes if I do say so to my vainglorious self. Truth be told, as the day wears on, the glitter works its way onto my eye lashes and into my eyes and down my face so that by 5 pm all I see is sparkles and shimmers and shooting stars. I live in a prism of glitter reverb that would rival the best LCD trip you’ve ever had. A day seeing through my eyes is probably like being trapped inside a Pink Floyd video. Except, I just googled Pink Floyd videos on youtube - being as I was born in 1978 - and NOW THEY TELL ME they didn’t even have music videos back then - what the fuck!? The few I did watch were of like his concerts and they seemed pretty trippy and you know what? Whatever! Just hum to yourself “Hello Hellooo, is there anybody. out. there. ??” You get the point. It’s a lot of fucking glitter okay - that’s the point!

Hell, I’ve got so much stuff going on that I shouldn’t even be driving. I ran into an old friend at Target 2 weeks ago and she made reference to me resembling a raccoon. I didn’t really understand that analogy since I thought moths were attracted to shiny stuff and raccoons were more garbage bandits of the rodent variety, but then again, you can’t be a true junkie unless you’ve got yourself all hopped up and dug through the trash for dinner right? Soooo maybe she’s right? Actually, the more I think about it, strippers and raccoons have a lot in common. Of course, I haven’t perfected the titty glitter thing just yet - I’ve mostly wanted to be feminist **HEY BUDDY, eyes up here okay?!** but I’m only a year into this and as my tolerance grows I’ll be hittin’ the harder stuff soon enough. GIVE IT TIME PEOPLE!

I think I’m also addicted to smell though. NO, I don’t want to smell you - I’m full of self-love remember? Unfortunately, after about 15 different products (Body wash, shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, lotion, perfume, perfumed lotion, hair smoother, hair spray, and more!) I fear I smell like a $3 french whore up in this bitch! Actually, I think the original saying was a $2 french whore, but with the economy right now and the fact that all those products are expensive, I’ve taken the liberty of raising the price a dollar! OH OH, you know what?!?!?! I even have scented body glitter! Can you say OMG!?

By the way, what the hell is a velvet tuberose and why do I always pronounce it turbose? (That's the bath & body lotion scent I prefer) Like I think I want to smell like a large but very fast woman? Like you know, turbo, but the OSE part denotes largeness... Everyone knows this, must I explain every. thing. to. you? Sigh.

Alright people, my 3 o'clock break is over and we're a little less than an hour away from 5 pm's impending disco fever revival, so I gotta go!

As a side not, if this means anything to you - you will know how funny it is.
People that eat chicken feet can’t get diabetes. Say goodbye.

Leave personal maintenance to the professionals...

I'm mad at the economy. Well, mad in probably the most facetious and petty way possible, but that's how I roll, yo!

I keep writing sentences and I can't decide whether I want this to be a really serious post or a funny one. I'm guessing mostly funny because I really don't have anything to complain about. It's just like Louis CK and his "Everything's amazing, Nobody's happy" video. Watch here:

I think we all got ahead of ourselves and maybe life does need to settle back down so we can appreciate what we have. I bought my first house in 2000, lived there for 2+ years and never had cable, internet, or a livingroom couch. Oddly enough, I recall being busy and happy. WEIRD. I seriously, at this point, would give up food to keep my TiVo recording. That's not petty right? A girl's gotta have priorities... I think food and insurance are way overrated anyways.

Mostly, I just don't like being crowded and I think there are a few too many of you on this boat. Yeah, I can see the "capacity" sign from my prime window seat and we're definitely overfull. I think I'm feeling a little seasick here.

Actually, as a workin' girl, I can now see I lived the last few years like a lady of leisure... Mostly, I'm upset because I LOVED IT! I was professionally maintained from head to toe, literally. Ladies of leisure don't bother with shaving and combing their hair and painting their nails. I know this because I laughed entirely too hard when watching the Kath & Kim episode where Kim heads out to get a mani/pedi while proclaiming "Painting your own nails is so poor!" IT IS and I hate being poor! It's so much better to leave all that personal maintenance bullshit to the pros. You know you've made it when you are willing to pay cash money (that's my gangsta word of the month BTW) to some woman so that she can crawl all over your hooha waxing and tweezing because you just can't be bothered with those things.

And as a poor person now, I'm also incredibly lazy. I'm laying in bed on a Sunday at 11am listening to my iPod with my dog curled up next to me, but my laptop battery is in the red and I'm not feeling like going into the living room to get my power cord. Mostly because I'm naked and don't think my roommates would appreciate that. See, that's also lazy because I don't want to bother with a robe. However, I read somewhere you shouldn't end a blog post in the middle of discussing getting Brazilian waxes, but looks like that's what's gonna happen. When will this retardedly expensive dog get his ass up and do something other than cost me MORE money?

I've added it up and I'm thinking $1,000 more a month will adequately provide me with the lifestyle I've become accustomed too. Anyone want to be my sugar daddy? I'm prepping my "trophy wife" resume right now...

By the looks of things, I must be a drinker...

Quick little post tonight as I'm dog-tired. My sleep schedule got all messed up making those baskets for work. Here they are in all their glory. (This isn't all of them! There were SO MANY! 60 to be exact. Oh, and by the way, if you've ever made SIXTY of anything, you would totally know how hard that is!)

Okay, moving on... I've got lots of random things to show here!

My house is awesome. How the universe drew us together, I'll never know, but you couldn't measure my love for "my girls" on any earthly scale. We have a few vices though. You may want to CLICK HERE to see about our food hoarding problem.

I must be morbid, but I often think, if I died today and someone had to clean up my life, what would they think? I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be a good impression. Issue #7 - "She's a drinker." Behold all of our CUPS.

Yeah, pretty much, that's what I said. Holy shit that's a lot of cups! We have every possible drinking contraption known to man. Oh wait, did you think that was it?

I'm sure an entire shelf dedicated to shot glasses wasn't enough - you've gotta have sports bottles and pitchers and thermos' too! What's that? All you've seen is coffee mugs, shot glasses, cute cups, wine & champagne glasses, and the above and you're not impressed? Don't act like this show is over... cuz it aint! FEAST YOUR EYES ON THIS!

I know folks... I know - we have a serious problem. We are addicted to drinking and I personally only enjoy it if it is done from an appropriate genre of cup.

There you have it, my dirty little confession - I'M A DRINKER!

You don't wanna know...

Yeah, been meaning to write, but just haven’t had a chance. I have work projects and personal obligations and advertising meetings and crazy deadlines. I’m trying to be organized and yet still So I’m taking 10 minutes to eat my soup and type something.

Had a bunch of notes about things I wanted to tell you, but in my panic to get something... ANYTHING accomplished I left it at home.

HOWEVER, I DO REMEMBER ONE THING!

Do you guys remember the Seinfeld episode where Jerry felt weird about making out with his girlfriend during Schindler’s List, but it was like the only time they could be alone? I seem to have a pattern for being oddly turned on at COMPLETELY INAPPROPRIATE times at the movies.

1) American History X - Edward Norton.

Yup, I know! There he is running out into the street to “curb” some guy and all I can think is - So those are boxers huh? That’s hot. Hmmm, he looks good... little lower....
I’m imagining that was the opposite of the point.

2) Amistad - Djimon Hounsou

(Yes, I realize this picture was not from the movie... But if it isn't proof that this guy is a perfect specimen of man, I don't know what is... HEY, IT'S MY BLOG, I'LL DO WHAT I WANT!)
I’m thinking somewhere along the way I should have been really upset about slavery and injustice, etc etc
That might have happened if it wasn’t for the fact that all I could think was: DAMN that’s a lot of really fine black men. Can we go back to the boat scene?
Yes, I’ll hang my head in shame now.

3) Easter Promises - Viggo Mortensen

Alright folks, this is the last one, I promise. But there he is, all bad ass and naked. I suppose I should have been bothered by the blood and attempted murder, but funny story... I wasn’t. It was hot. I’m sorry.

Ok I’m not sorry.

Well, I’m sorry for those of you who think I’m being serious - or for anyone who thinks I have no soul and condone slavery and murder, but other than that - NOT SORRY!

Anyways, I tried to warn you that you didn't wanna know - you just had to read it, didn't you?!