She Don't Make False Claims

My New Blog!

2011-03-31T17:05:00.001-07:00

Hey dudes- it has been a LOOOONG time since I've written, stopped in, commented...I haven't done a lot of anything in a while and I sincerely apologize.

After about a year at my current job, I finally feel like I can fit blogging back into my schedule and, in celebration of that fact, I have started a brand new blog! I would absolutely LOVE if you guys could stop over and say hi- even if just for a minute. I plan to get back into reading all of your blogs again and I added a few of you to my blogroll (let me know if you want me to add you!) so you will definitely get some bloggy love in return!

My new blog is pretty different from what I was doing here- it's actually a year-long food challenge! A few years ago, a blogger created a list of 100 foods you should eat before you die. It was called the Omnivore's 100. I have decided to do the entire list in one year. Sounds easy, but it's not.

Please stop by- I promise I won't fall back into a black hole again! I hope to see you all there! And now, for the reveal.........my new blog!

http://Omnivore100Project.com

P.S. I just started a Twitter profile, too! I'm adding all of youse! @Omnivore100Proj

Ta Ta For Now...

2010-09-27T08:00:00.000-07:00

Hey, everybody. My computer is somewhat fixed now, thanks to my good friend Samir at work (computer genius!) but I have come to the sad realization that I don't think I really have the energy to continue with the blogging. It kind of makes me feel like a failure, as my blog only grew to the age of 8 months. It was still a baby! I do enjoy writing, but doing it for work every day really makes me not want to do it in my spare time. The only thing I want to do now when I get home is veg out and relax. That's not good, I know, but I'm totally lacking motivation at the moment. I don't want to say goodbye forever- I still hope to do some occasional posts every now and then- but I don't want to pretend that I'm going to be nearly as active as I was. I really do LOVE all my followers, though- I can't believe that 70+ people would ever want to read what I have to say...regularly! I want to give some special shout-outs right now:

To Erin, my blogging bestie, who also seems to be taking a blogging hiatus right now. You rock, I haven't forgotten about you, and I always love the stories you tell.

To Dan, my British buddy. You have cracked me up since day one. Your stripper story makes me chuckle every time I think about it and I consider you a great friend!

To Alyson, for being a totally awesome real life and blogging friend. You are the reason I got the idea to start blogging. We must hang out soon!

To Intense Guy, who is such a wonderful, devoted follower and such a kind person. Your comments always made me smile!

To McGriddle Pants, who is so bizarre and totally hilarious! I always leave her blog laughing my ass off! AND her blog is named after a "Seinfeld" quote- what could be better?!

To Millions of Atoms Man, who is too crazy to even describe. You are awesome.

Everyone else, don't feel left out- I adore each and everyone of you! I will do my best to visit you and keep reading your blogs in my spare time.

I will now leave you with a ridiculous video of a crazy Indian man singing and dancing. It's pretty epic, so check it out.

Technical Difficulties...

2010-08-10T05:14:00.001-07:00

Hey people, we're having some issues over here. My laptop is all virused out and the wire thing that supplies Dan's laptop's keyboard with power broke. So I can barely get my internet to open and Dan can't type. Great timing, huh?

We're going to have a brief hiatus until our computer issues are fixed. I might need to buy a new one altogether, which might take a couple of weeks. Until then, I haven't forgotten about you all! See you soon, darlings.

I Just Wanna Dance!

2010-08-03T16:43:00.000-07:00

When I was younger, I wanted to be a choreographer. I would picture myself in my Hollywood home having various music stars pop over. They'd be like, "Yo, K-Rock" (because I'd have some crazy hip choreographer name), "I need a slammin' routine for my new music video!" I would then exclaim, "check out these sweet moves!" and bust into some incredible combination of hip shaking, rapid arm movements, and hair tosses. "You just blew my mind," they'd say, and hand me a check for $100,000.

The REALITY of the situation is that I would spend many nights in my parents' basement creating dance routines or watching music videos over and over again to try to copy them. Eventually, this grew old and I decided I needed something more. Some help, if you will. Some help from Darrin.

While Jerry Seinfeld claims that the most embarrassing thing he's ever said was, "I'd like to order the Ginsu knives," the most embarrassing thing I've ever said was, "I'd like to order Darrin's Dance Grooves." If you're not familiar with this incredible instructional DVD, check out the ad below:

"Do you wonder where Britney Spears or N'Sync got their moves?" the commercial asks. I was one of the 26 people on the planet who responded, "yes, yes, I do." I made the call that night. I swear as I was ordering the DVD, the people on the other end were chuckling.

When the video finally came, I was pretty pumped. Within two days, I had learned how to shake like Britney Spears, slide like Justin Timberlake, and spin like Jordan Knight. The DVD also had me, a skinny little white girl, trying to "pop and lock" in my parents' basement. Needless to say, I lacked skills in that area. But Darrin still rocked my world.

That year, I decided to try out for the school dance team. A couple days before try-outs, however, I read a flyer for the team that said you had to be trained in all areas of dance. Trained! Meaning shaking your ass in your basement didn't count! And I might have to be able to touch my toes and stuff! No way. I didn't try out.

My dream to become a world-reknowned choreographer slowly faded over the next few months and I acquired other dreams. But I still have every single move from Jordan Knight's "Give It to You" video memorized. Take that, DANCE TEAM!

-Kathryn

The Great Outdoors

2010-07-29T14:19:00.000-07:00

I'm going camping Sunday through Wednesday and it's pretty safe to say that I'm pumped. We (Yankee Girl, her husband Lee, and other assorted peoples) will be heading out a couple of hours after a show that we're playing and diving head first into a few days of no work, hours of swimming, and even more hours of drinking. I'm getting giddy just typing about it.

We did this last year and it was a pretty great time, even before we hit the camp grounds. Driving up through Wisconsin, we passed a roadside "novelty" shop. The shop itself was rather nondescript but what drew our attention to it were the two yellow semi trailers parked next to it. On the trailers, using what looked to be black duct tape, someone had written a message;

We all uttered a collective "Bwuh?" and stared at the lurid message as we passed. Time was of the essence and we couldn't stop. We said we'd stop on the way back but after 3 days of storms, waking up in eight inches of water, trying to sleep in a port-a-potty, and constant drinking, we decided to get home as fast as possible. Throughout the year, when Lee and I would talk about the trip, we'd both laugh about the sign and fall silent for a moment, only to break it with a somber "We should have gone back, man."

This year, it's going to be different!

At least I hope so, a port-a-potty is no place to rest your head.

-Dan

Penny For Your Thoughts?

2010-07-27T17:10:00.001-07:00

First off, I'd like to give a big "WOO!" for having 69 followers! Yeah, I'm a perv.

ANYWAYS, usually I sit here and I rant and rave about my point of view on some particular subject. Today, my dear readers, I'm asking for your opinions. I need your help, you see. I have a big decision to make and I'd like to hear what you have to say before I make it. This might not be an incredibly entertaining post, but I genuinely need advice.

The subject? Moving in with your significant other.

My lease ends in April and Dan and I have been discussing moving in when my lease ends. Here's a quick background on us:
-We have been dating for 1 year and 4 months.
-By the time we move in, we will have been dating for 2 years and 1 month.
-We are not engaged.
-We currently live an hour away from each other, so we don't get a huge amount of "us" time.

Now, I have mixed feelings about moving in. I always used to be a huge supporter of "try before you buy," as I think it's the only way you can really know if you'll be a successful couple. Then I moved in with my now ex-boyfriend. We had been dating for 2 years, then we moved in together (with a roommate), dated for another 2 years, then broke up. The inevitable happened; we took each other for granted, we became an "old married couple," and it ended. I wouldn't say that moving in together was the sole cause of the breakup, but it probably was a catalyst.

My relationship with Dan is VERY different from the last relationship; it is infinitely better and I think we are able to work out any problems we may have. However, I still have concerns.

My issues are these:
-I don't want us to take each other for granted.
-I don't want us to get bored with each other.
-If/when we get married, nothing would change (I would want there to be some sort of change!)
-I don't think you should have to deal with becoming an "old married couple" before you're old and married

Look at how bored this couple is with each other! I don't want to be like them!

I have witnessed many couples go through the 4 or 5 year dating/moving in/breaking up process, and it makes me nervous to try moving in again. One of my friends is encouraging me to give him an ultimatum: no moving in without a ring. But I am definitely not ready to be engaged anytime soon!

So here's where you all come in. For all you married folks, what did you do? Did you move in before you got married? If so, do you regret it? For all you couples living together, what do you think? Do you think you should wait until you're married or engaged to move in with your significant other? What should I do??? Thanks for your help, dudes!

Every Girl's Crazy 'Bout A Sharp-Dressed Man

2010-07-23T15:00:00.000-07:00

My sister and her husband are renewing their vows this weekend. When they got married 10 years ago, they were strapped for cash so they just opted to go the the courthouse to get their marriage license. Then they waited like 10 days before telling my parents. That last bit was widely regarded as a pretty bad move, but that's a whole other story that I'll tell at some other point. It comes complete with death threats, fisticuffs, crying maidens and explosions. Well...okay, no explosions.

So for this upcoming ceremony, my sis really wanted to go all out and have the wedding she always wanted. As she described what she wanted to me, I realized that I'm not the only person in the family who has a taste for things of "epic proportions". While listening to her plans, I started imagining a wedding where each member in the wedding party rode in on giant winged-tigers that belched fire, while Iron Maiden played the processional march. My fantasy came to a screeching halt when she told me to go and get fitted for a tux.

Now, I like looking good and I do actually like wearing tuxedos. What I don't like though, are tuxedos that someone else picks out for you. That's how people end up in those powder-blue numbers that were popular in 1950. I was hesitant but then I thought "Hey, it's her day" and did what any good brother would do; procrastinate until I absolutely had to go.

To make a long story short, I went and got fitted and other than the attendant's sour milk breath, I had no issues. I paid up and was told to pick it up today. I got there after work and they led me to the changing rooms and I finally saw it...

Apparently, my sister's dream wedding has me in a bright red bow-tie. This is what I get for being such a f**king brat when I was little.

Sorry about the late post! I lost track of time while trying to fix an amplifier yesterday. I'll say 1000 Hail Mary's in penance for it ;)

Have a great weekend everyone!
-Dan

8 Reasons Why the Renaissance Fair Rocked My World

2010-07-19T18:40:00.000-07:00

This weekend, I went to the Bristol Renaissance Fair in Wisconsin. It totally rocked my world and this is why:

1. I made best friends with a zebra.
Like, for real. He gave me a handmade friendship bracelet and everything. Which is a big deal because it's pretty effing hard to make friendship bracelets when you have hooves for hands.

2. Half-naked tattooed men on stilts.

I support half-naked men. Add tattoos and stilts and you've got somethin' special right there.

3. Got to throw Batman weapons at a wall.

Yeah, I don't know what they're actually called- Batman uses them, so they're Batman weapons to me. If only that kid was Alfred.

4. Got to throw pirate swords at a wall.
I dig throwing sharp things at walls. Except when you miss. Which happened a lot.

5. I finally got to put Dan where he belongs.

Strangely, he seemed to enjoy it. Weirdo.

6. Rode an elephant.

Yes, a REAL elephant! How awesome is that?? I had to restrain myself from singing "Price Ali, fabulous he, Aliababwa!!!"

7. Four words: pickle on a stick.
Yum.

8. This lemur.

Do I really need to explain this? Look at him! He's done. He's so over it. "It" probably being 90 degree weather and people constantly prodding at his cage and pointing.

And with that, I vow to go back to the Renaissance Fair at least once a year, every year, for the rest of my life.

Extry! Extry! Read all about...some stuff!

2010-07-15T14:30:00.000-07:00

Apparently, I have some questions to answer at the behest of Millions of Atoms Man, as Kathryn answered the WRONG QUESTIONS last week! I'll make this quick as I have a show to play this weekend and I must return soon to practicing the riffs for "Holy Diver". For those not in "the know", the song was written by Ronnie James Dio. His songs are all about magic and ridiculousness, and anyone that has read anything I've written on here knows I enjoy the ridiculous to a ridicu...well, you get it. On to my answers!

1. How many M&Ms could you eat in one sitting? Round up.

I feel it depends on the length of my sitting. I'm an expert sitter. I'll say 200. If "She's so Raven" is on TV, double that number.

2. Do you own an iPhone, and why / why not?

I don't own an iPhone. I'll actually answer this seriously. I don't like the base price of the service. I added it all up once and with my current plan options an iPhone with the memory capacity I'd like would cost nearly $600 with a monthly charge of around $160. Please note that this was about a year ago so things might have come down a bit. I do like them though...

3. Describe the first time you were aware that you had feelings for me that went beyond the “criminal suspect” feelings that the Police have for me.
I felt it the moment my eyes scanned your answers to your last tagging. While my pulse quickened upon reading that you really (but actually don't) play guitar, air-murder people, and possess a block of cheese that can make me weep via the power of melody, it reached a pounding crescendo (my heart, not the cheese) when I read about your black light poster of a unicorn-riding Debbie Gibson. I may be a metal head, but I'm not ashamed to say "Lost in Your Eyes" takes me places.

4. Describe the one t-shirt that you should have thrown away five years ago but you still inexplicably find in your t-shirt drawer.

I have a medium sized white t-shirt with the angelic face of Zack Morris airbrushed on it. The artist even added a twinkle to the smile. I'm afraid that if I throw it out, it'll come back and kill me in my sleep. This shirt is the most terrifying thing I've ever known.

5. Why did the new Twilight movie make 30 million dollars in 3 hours?

There's a whole lot of loneliness in the world and it can take many forms. It can take the smell of a perfume worn by a lost love, the sound of an un-returned "goodbye" or in this case the form(s) of screaming hordes of 15 year old girls driven onward by raging hormones with no outlet, a poor taste in literature, Taylor Lautner's abs, and an allowance.

I know it's in poor form to not tag anyone else and keep this party going so here are some questions for some people that I have yet to tag, but will do so by the end of this post. You will be graded on this test.

1. If you could flip a switch and wipe out any band or music of the face of the planet, who or what would it be?

2. If you could re-live any moment in your life, which would you pick?

3. You just bought a time machine from Hammer Fist Explosion Guitar Solo Ltd. Where, or rather, when, are you going to visit?

4. What do you think was, or is, the worst the fashion trend that you've ever seen?

5A. What person, place, or thing makes you the most happy when you think about it?

B. Why isn't it my hair?

One lucky winner will receive a Schwinn bike, a lifetime supply of Bubble Up soda, and this crazed giraffe.

These questions will go to...(drum roll)

Intense Guy

McGriddle Pants

I Wonder Why

Hope everyone has a great night!

Back to rocking!
-Dan

Yahoo Answers: The Destroyer of Souls

2010-07-12T17:41:00.000-07:00

For work, I have to spend a lot of time on Yahoo Answers answering questions and linking back to our websites. Since the website I link to is a food and beverage site, I spend a lot of time in the food and beverage section of Yahoo. At first, everything was normal- people looking for tips on how to bake their cake, people asking for some vegetarian meal ideas, basic stuff like that. But then as I ventured through some other categories and spent more time on the site, I started to realize quite quickly that (and I've said this before) WE, AS A SOCIETY, ARE DOOMED.

"But why, Kathryn?" you ask, with a crinkled brow. "Youth today are smarter than ever- look at the technology they have mastered!" Well, my fine reader, here are some examples of the questions I have found on Yahoo Answers. Unedited and completely real.

"Is it weird to eat a chocolate bar in the shower and smother your body and the walls in the melted chocolate?"

"Why does putting pressure between my eye brows feel good?...like with a stick or pencil?"

"I cut my sack while shaving. Will my testicles fall out? I have a gauze pad on it, and am freaking out."

"I know someone that like girls missing front teeth, if there is a girl like that please answer?"

"I drink almond milk, it's really good but how in the world do they milk an almond nut?"

"If I eat a lot of cornbread, does it mean i'm part black?"

"Did that lady I flirt with at the gym really mean that restraining order, or was she just playing hard to get?"

And my favorite response to that: "playing hard to get I think you should follow her home next time and break into her house ladies love that"

I wish I could tell you that those were hard to find, but they weren't. At all. Every time I go onto Yahoo Answers, I leave feeling a little more confused, depressed, and...well, confused again. What's the stupidest question someone has asked you? My favorite was when I was waitressing and someone asked me what goes into a gin and tonic...

Just remember, there aren't any stupid questions, just stupid people.

We can dance if we want to...

2010-07-08T08:00:00.000-07:00

It would appear that I have half an awarding to respond to. This is tough, but I'm feeling pretty confident. Slightly nervous, kinda thirsty, but whatever. As the old adage goes; If it's easy, it isn't worth wearing pants...or something like that.

The "You're going places, baby!" award from Aubrey S. over at High-Heeled Love asks where do I see myself in ten years time? I'm so glad you asked!

In ten years, I will be exactly 5 years into my leadership of the multi-national business conglomerate, Hammer Fist Explosion Guitar Solo Ltd.

We will have our hands in nearly every product you'll own for your household. While our company brand cheeses will be great sellers, our lawn care equipment will be what carries the company and secures its legacy. Why you ask? (because you should be asking this) Due to a fit of genius, I'll defy God and Science and cross-breed a hippopotamus with a riding mower. This will become the Backyard Buddy Chipper-Shredder. We'll even have a kids model! Sure, we may be a faceless corporate leviathan, but we're also a family-friendly company, just sans the whole "integrity and soul" thing.

Now my serious answer; Job wise, I'm really not sure. I just recently finished school and received my bachelors degree so I've got a bit of a late start as to the occupational planning. I work for Philips Consumer Luminaires NA at the moment and am hoping to join our development team as soon as the positions open up. I know I'll still be with Kathryn, as she rocks my socks off. Man, in ten years we might even have a family. Strange to type but thinking about it brings a smile to my face. Really though, after reading my joke answer I think it's obvious I shouldn't be allowed to raise a child. Hopefully, I'll have the ugliest and therefore cutest English Bulldog and I'll name him Dozer. I'll still be playing music in my spare time, probably nothing serious but just enough to make some extra scratch and still feel cool. Oh and I'll have way more tattoos by then ;) Thanks for my half of the award, Aubrey!

P.S. I know the title makes no sense. I stared at the title line and after 20 minutes, that came to mind. I don't know why, but there's a crazed, dancing midget-jester in the music video. I support that fully.

-Dan

Now you! Tell us where you'll be in 10 years! Yes, you!
Sara from Sara Swears a Lot
Mrs Dixon from The Doll's House
Lori from Tiny Little Reveries

Och! I've been tagged!

2010-07-05T19:23:00.000-07:00

My favorite nutjob, aka Millions of Atoms Man, has tagged me! So it's time for some question answering, folks! Here goes:

1. When was the last time you played air guitar? Come on, I'm not asking you to admit you still listen to Def Leppard.
Ok. Look at my profile picture and tell me how often you think I play air guitar. Pretty much every second of the day. It is usually accompanied by fist pumping, head nodding, and a sweet Billy Idol lip curl. And I am proud to say that listen to Def Leppard on a daily basis.

2. What's the oldest thing in your fridge?
When I moved into my apartment last February (that’s February 2009), I bought a bag of frozen chicken. I believe I have used 2 of those chicken breasts so far and the rest are still somewhere within the icy depths of my freezer.

3. Vampires, zombies or please make it stop?
“Interview With the Vampire” is the greatest. Brad Pitt can tear my flesh apart any time. I also love “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”- the movie, NOT THE TV SHOW! It totally kicks ass- it's like "Clueless" with vampires- what more could you ask for?!

4. If you had to change your current profession, and could be anything, what would you do?
If there was some kind of professional reality TV watcher who moonlighted in sushi tasting, I’d be them in a second.

5. Undergarments of choice?
Let’s just say that Sisqo would be proud.

6. What is the tackiest thing you own?
Oh, I am the queen of tacky. I own an inflatable cheese hat, a bright red children’s keytar (profile pic!), a hat that has a chicken coming out of the front and back, and a bright green shirt that says “C is for Crunk” on it. One time I almost bought this bejeweled, neon-colored painting of a Mexican man holding a naked woman from Goodwill for $5. I, however, restrained myself that day.

7. Summer with no air conditioning or winter with no heat?
Summer with no air con. I’ve done it before and I can do it again. All you need is a rotating fan. Place it 3 inches from your body, keep it on all night, and, dear God, don’t move!

8. Desert island time: Wow, there is a band that will play whenever your snap your fingers, and OMG, it's your favorite!!!! Who is it?
If I could get David Lee Roth to serenade me on a desert island, my life would be complete. And if the dudes from Whitesnake were his backup singers, I wouldn't mind that one bit.

Now a few of you lucky people get to do this, too! I choose.......
Erin from I'm Staying Young Forever
McGriddle Pants from Serenity Now!! Insanity Later...
Angie from My So-Called Chaos
Laura from Gringation's Blog
Lindsay from Canadian Girl on a Budget

I would like to conclude this post with a photograph I took when I went to Wisconsin last week. As I was pulling out of a parking lot, my friend Amy yelled "oh my God!" I turned toward where she was pointing and saw this:

Sweet dreams, all!

The Stuff of Nightmares

2010-07-01T13:46:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone!
Since I last blogged about my not-secret-and-totally-awesome desires to be a Ninja and\or a Viking, I figured I'd blog about another pretty keen human emotion; fear. Now fear usually isn't funny in any way, except with it's brought about by a completely irrational stimulus, such as someone having an intense fear of grass or gerbils...

While my fears aren't so completely irrational, the fact that someone my size has them makes them a bit ridiculous. What are mine? Spiders and Clowns. When I was little, these fears would send me into near-hysterics. If a spider was in my room, I screamed like a little girl, no matter the how tiny the eight-legged demon was. If a kid invited me to his birthday party, it usually went down like this;

Him-"Hey Danny, you want to come to my b-day party? My mom made a big cake, and we're going to play Nintendo all night!"
Me-" Oh wow really?! Yeah, I want to come!"
Him- "Yeah, my dad rented a clown and everything!"
Me- "f*** off, we aren't friends anymore."

I think I had that conversation, verbatim, when I was 8 years old.

My irrational fears come from one single source; the movie "It". Nowadays I love that movie, but when I was a kid I wouldn't even go in the same room as the TV if the movie was playing, steering clear of seeing Tim Curry all painted up with a mouthful of razor teeth. As I got older, the fear evolved into something more like, oh, how would you put it? Severe dislike? Aversion? Immortal burning hatred? Yes, the last one, definitely that one.

Encountering these creatures* now just makes me really angry for no good reason. I don't kill spiders outside as that is their 'hood and a tentative truce is in place, but when they are in my dojo all bets are off. My sadly-non-Viking-in-any-way blood boils and they get crushed with the nearest heavy object I can find. I put so much strength into the impact, it's like I'm trying to knock out a whale shark. It feels pretty good though, so much that I suggest you try it at home. Just scream at the top of your lungs and slam whatever object you can find (a shoe, hammer, bowling ball, sibling) down as hard as you can on it. There really isn't a formula for it, so be creative! Most importantly, have fun with it! Be careful if it happens to be a clown though, the face-paint could stain the carpet. If that occurs, you can use the seltzer water sprayer that they carry to remove it. It's the same as club soda, just without the added sodium. :)

Thanks for reading. I hope that ramble made someone smile a bit. Have a wonderful Thursday night everyone!

-Dan

*-I do put clowns in the "Creature" category because anyone willing to do that job clearly traded in their soul for a honking nose and comically over-sized shoes.

Who I Don't Want to Be When I Grow Up

2010-06-28T09:44:00.000-07:00

This past week, I went to Summerfest, a huge outdoor music festival, in Milwaukee. While I was there, I encountered all different kinds of people. And let me emphasize the "different" in that statement. Places like that are great for people-watching, and boy did I do my share. I realized a lot about myself during that festival. I especially learned exactly who I DON'T want to be when I get older. Let's take a look at these lovely ladies:

#1: The mullet-headed woman in "mom jeans" who thinks she's hot stuff.
Unfortunately, there were more than just one of these ladies at the Tom Petty and ZZ Top concert I went to see. I'm sure you know these ladies. They're in their 40's, but they still think they're sexy co-eds. They're standing on the bleachers and shaking their asses in their mom jeans. They're...well, I'll let you watch for yourselves:

#2: The over-tanned woman on the back of her man's Harley.
This woman was probably super-hot in 1987. She's got the bleached blonde crimped hair, the leathery skin, the shirt with slits all down the back, and the biker dude to match. Little does she know that she's dating a douche, she looks like a handbag, and she's about 20 years behind the times. Think Beth from "Dog The Bounty Hunter" but skinnier and not as nice.

#3. The woman who dances like she's on hallucinogens.
This woman is a hippie at heart. She doesn't like shoes, she wears a lot of scarves, and she likes to sway her arms in the air while her eyes are closed. She "feels" the music traveling through her body. In other words, she's nuts.

#4. The pregnant woman smoking pot.
'Nuff said.

There were many more women that I could have done without, including the drunk woman screaming at her husband, the woman who stuck her butt in our face when we were sitting on the lawn, and the oversized woman wearing tiny shorts and cowboy boots, but I can save them for a later date. For now, please promise me that if you know me in 20 years and I have become one of these women, you will either alert me immediately or just put me out of my misery. Your choice.

The Triumphant Return!

2010-06-23T17:15:00.001-07:00

I'm back! Yes, for real this time. But there are gonna be some changes around here.

With full-time work taking up most of my life AND blogging EVERY DAY for work, it's hard to get myself motivated to write for fun. On top of that, I have no time to do it!

After some careful thought, I decided that the only way I could keep this blog up and running (which I definitely want to do, as I love all of my fabulous readers and blogging friends) is to get someone else to write with me. A co-author, if you will. That way, my blog could keep going and I could get away with blogging half as much!

So I would like to introduce to you the new co-author of my blog. You've met him before. He's big. He's got long hair. He likes death metal, bulldogs, and Coca Cola. He's my boyfriend, Dan.

We will each be doing one post a week from now on and I will do my VERY best with keeping up with comments. There will be no name change, no logo change, and this will not become some sappy his and her blog. It will just be my blog...with some dude in it.

So be afraid. Be very afraid. Because this is the duo that will be writing here from now on:

Oh dear lord.

Roller Coaster Road Rage

2010-06-10T18:20:00.000-07:00

So this past weekend, I went to Cedar Point Amusement Park with my GBF (gay best friend) to ride some roller coasters! The biggest one in the park is called Top Thrill Dragster and it is 420 ft high and goes 120 mph. The track is basically just an inverted U. You go up one side and down the other. It only takes about 17 seconds, but it's totally amazing!

We got in line for this pretty late in the day and didn't wait too long before it was our turn to get on. We went over, sat in the seats, buckled our safety belts, and suddenly one of the ride operators sticks her hand out and say "It's raining. Get 'em off."

We all looked at each other in shock. First, because it was NOT raining, and second, because we were literally buckled in and ready to go! So they made us get back into line and wait. For some unknown reason, at this point, they pulled all 4 of the trains way far up the track. About 2 minutes later, they announced that it had stopped raining (because it NEVER was), but they had to pull the trains all the way back. This took about 20 minutes.

Finally, we got back into the seats, strapped in AGAIN, and I look over to see that this time it actually IS raining (probably due to the fact that we had to stand around for 25 minutes and this gave Mother Nature some time to conjure up some bitchiness). So we were back up again and waiting in line.

After about 20 more minutes, the rain stopped and we got back into the seats for the third time. We were so pumped to FINALLY go! It was sunny, everything was fine, and we were ready to go. So we pulled up to launch position, launched, and THIS happened:

For all you lazies who don't want to watch a 17 second video, we went up one side of the U, got to the top of the hill, and stopped at the top, then started rolling backwards the way we came from! At 120 mph. Terrifying.

Now, this happens once or twice throughout the day. If you roll back, then they just launch you again. So they very slowly pulled us back into launch position and as they're doing this, it starts RAINING. Yes, again.

They pulled us back into the station for another 30 minutes. At least this time, they let us stay in the seats. By this point, we were celebrities. People were standing by the ride and asking us questions. "Was it scary?" "How long have you been waiting?" All we could do was grit our teeth and try to smile.

Finally, after waiting for the 8,000th time, it stopped raining, we launched again, and we actually, miraculously, made it over. All in all, we waited about 90 minutes for a 17 second ride.

Fun times.

Anyways, my BFF came in from England today to stay with me so I'm going to be MIA for about 9 days (sorry!) I'll do my best to stop in every once in a while!

The Zumba Escapade

2010-06-02T16:55:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, my roommate and I went to our first installment of a series of Zumba classes at our town's park district. We were pretty excited to go- we had heard how fun and high-energy it was, and I thought it would be a great way to work out and not feel like you're working out.

When we entered the class, there were people of all ages and we were pretty much all beginners. The instructor seemed really nice and introduced herself to all of us. There was some good salsa music pumpin' in the room and it seemed like it going to be fun.

Within 30 seconds, I knew that I was wrong. So, so wrong.

You'd think that any fitness instructor (or even anyone who has EVER attended a fitness class, or even anyone with a brain at all) would know that if music is blasting and you're in a large room, people will NOT be able to hear you if you whisper. It's science. Maybe this chick thought we all had super human hearing. Who knows.

That is, of course, when she was actually taking the time to explain what she was doing, which I think only happened about 2 times throughout the entire class. For the rest of the class, she simply would just dance, sing along to the music, change what she was doing, and expect us to magically copy her and follow along.

Not to mention, I was under the impression that Zumba was a high-energy Latin dance class. I'm fairly certain that playing Shania Twain's "Man, I Feel Like a Woman" as we grapevine across the room with our thumbs in our belt loops does NOT count as Latin dancing. But that's just me.

We also did some other great moves, including waving our arms in the air like freakin' morons and tapping our feet gently from side to side. Instead of high-powered hip shaking, our moves more closely resembled what you'd see on "Sit and Be Fit."

Also, the woman was constantly messing up and was always saying things like "I don't know what this move is called...it's kinda like this..." She didn't have a continuous loop of music like a normal class, either. Instead, after every song, there'd be like 30 seconds of silence in which we would clap our hands wildly, as if we had accomplished some monumental goal.

To top things off, the class ended 10 minutes early. So she not only subjected us to torture, but she also wasted our money. After the class, we headed to the office and asked to transfer to kickboxing because "the class was kind of awful" (my exact words). They didn't even flinch. I'm guessing they'd had some complaints before.

I have basically come to the conclusion that they pulled a random woman off the street, asked her to teach a class for $5 and she was all over it. All I can say is thank GOD I got outta there.

P.S. I'm way behind. Full-time jobbage has majorly screwed up my blogging life. Sorry, folks. Thanks for still being my friend :)

On The Topic of Vikings...

2010-05-24T10:00:00.000-07:00

As promised, here's a guest post by my boyfriend, Dan. Enjoy!

For starters, I'd like to say hello to all you wonderful people that read and enjoy Kathryn's blog everyday, especially you, McGriddle Pants. Anyone that hands out awards associated with ninjery is, in my opinion, instantly elevated to a position of social standing known as a "kidney friend". Meaning someone who you would donate a kidney to, should they be in the unfortunate position to need it.

It would seem that Kathryn has promised that I'll be more entertaining than her. This is doubtful, as she is easily and without trying one of the funniest people I know. She's also stated that this will probably be about ninjas and vikings. On this she is spot on. When she asked me to guest post and joked about the possible topic, I started thinking about why I love ninjas and vikings so damned much. After exactly 172,800 seconds of pondering, I finally discovered the reason - because they're awesome. So awesome in fact, that henceforth any mention of them by name will be capitalized.

Sadly, I now know that I could never be a Ninja. I lack the self-discipline, agility, sneakiness, and clothing. At 6'2", 220 pounds, I'd be about the damned biggest Ninja ever and would never be allowed to join a clan because of this and my clumsiness. Some might say I should forget the naysayers who would crush my dreams because of my size. "Start your own clan!" they might say, but really with most clans being named after vicious animals whose traits the clan mimic, I'm left to ask who would want to be in Clumsy Giant-Sloth Clan. No one, that's who.

That's where the Vikings come in. That is something I can get behind completely. I'm big, I have long hair. I enjoy things such as colder weather, swords, drinking, Scandinavian death metal, and boats. Oh! Let's not forget pillaging. I love pillaging. Add all those up, people. No matter how you phrase the equation, it always comes out equaling "fucking amazing." Alas, this is one more case of being born into the wrong time period, the last notable one being not born during the late sixties so that I could come of age in time to play in an amazing '80's metal band. Oh well.

Anyhow, thanks for reading and I hope that at least some parts of this made you laugh a bit and not slowly wonder "why is SHE dating HIM?" Though if you were, I wouldn't worry too much about it, Kathryn asks me that pretty regularly. :)

Apparently, I'm Awesome.

2010-05-21T12:59:00.000-07:00

First of all, I wanted to share with y'all that my 3 month internship just turned into a FULL-TIME SALARIED POSITION! With benefits and the whole she-bang!! So you are now reading the words of a professional editor. Rock.

(I typed "editor" into a photo site and it gave me this image. I'm assuming this is exactly what I'll look like in a few weeks' time) ----->

There were 2 interns, myself and another girl (Allison from Sense and Nonsense- give her a visit!) and we were both pulled into the office together with our boss and the CEO of the company. We knew that it was time for "the big talk" and were shaking in our boots! The CEO starts it off nicely and says, "So you two have been here for 3 months now, we really like both of you, and we love your work. Unfortunately, we can only afford to keep one of you." My heart sank. "So," he says, "we have to make a decision."

He then whips out a quarter and says, "Who wants to call it?"

At this point I was half laughing and half panicking because I knew something was up, but I didn't know what. After about a minute of him flipping this coin and calling it for us to decide who to give the job to, he goes, "No, I'm just kidding! We'd like to hire both of you." Cruel. So cruel.

But now I am a working woman! All I have to do is make some business cards...

I also really quickly wanted to acknowledge some awards that I've gotten over the last month or so. I'll try to make it fast.

First, Angie from My So-Called Chaos gave me this multicolored award! Angie has been WAY generous to me over the past few months and I love her for that. She's a great blogger and definitely deserves a visit. I'm supposed to list 10 things that make me happy, but this post will be way too long, so I'm just going to give it to somebody instead. Cool?

I'd like to award this blog to IntenseGuy for being there for me since day 1. He has not let a single blog post go by without commenting and he's such a thoughtful and kind person. Thanks, dude!

Next, Jana from The Little Black Book gave me this award. Jana has disappeared for a while, so maybe if you give her a visit, it will inspire her to write some more!
I'm supposed to answer a bunch of questions for this one, too, but I won't bore you (more). I'm going to pass this one onto The Vegetable Assassin for always cracking me up. This girl is seriously funny. Go visit her.

Finally, I literally jumped with joy when McGriddle Pants from Serenity Now...Insanity Later! gave me this award! I have been coveting this award for months and I am SO pumped to finally get it! I'd also like to say that I totally adore everything about McGriddle Pants and her blog. To be honest, I was preparing to give HER an award, but she beat me to it! DEFINITELY check her out.

I'm going to give this award to Erin from I'm Staying Young Forever, who I consider to be my "bloggy bestie." She's totally awesome, she has a great blog, she loves "Full House" and Urban Outfitters (just like me), and she rocks my world. So run off and say hello.

Alright, I'm done now.

All that's left is for you to revel in my full-time employed, award-winning awesomeness. I'll give you 20 seconds.

Okay, time's up.

Stop by on Monday to read a guest post by the boyfriend! He's way more entertaining than me. I promise. :)

Hellooooooo Tax Refund!

2010-05-18T10:59:00.000-07:00

My federal tax refund finally came and it was definitely a big chunk o' change! I put most of it into my savings, but I gave myself 300 bucks in "fun money" to play with. Here's what I got:

Sunglasses from Forever 21: $6
Yes, I had $300, yet I still bought the cheapest sunglasses in town. I don't care- I love them. I'm usually an aviator girl, but I fell in love with these anyways. You can't really tell, but they're kinda Ray-Ban shaped, so I feel like a Blues Brother whenever I go anywhere.
Earring Holder from Urban Outfitters: $5
Marked down from $30! There were other, much cuter, ones but I was not about to spend 30 bucks on an earring holder. This'll do just fine.

Beer: $10
Hey- it was Cinco de Mayo! I couldn't NOT get some Mexican beer! Plus, for work, I have to blog about an alcoholic beverage each week, so it was for BUSINESS purposes!

Quilt from Urban Outfitters: $128

Organic Sheets from Target: $50

Yes, I spent $128 on a quilt. A shitty, thin quilt made by small children somewhere in China. But it's so pretty! This picture doesn't do it justice. There are MUCH better pictures here. I'm a sucker for anything Urban- I just can't help myself! And I totally jumped on the "organic" bandwagon and got these white sheets. I felt like an idiot and the woman at the checkout actually said, "organic sheets??" But they're soft so I don't care.

Shoes from DSW: $80

I intentionally bought the most intense-looking shoes to make up for the fact that I am such a wimpy worker-outer. I have never worked out for longer than an hour in my life. I figure, people will look at my shoes and be like, "wow- she's hardcore" while I'm tripping over my own feet as I walk 3mph on the treadmill.

That adds up to about $280. I assume I spent the other $20 on gas and heroin. Minus the heroin.

Sorry for the lameness of this post. I mostly just like looking at my beautiful new items. Expect a guest post soon by none other than my metalhead boyfriend, Dan. He will have some interesting stuff to say...it will probably be about vikings and ninjas.

The Grill House

2010-05-12T19:43:00.000-07:00

When I was a college student living in Scotland, I got pretty hard up for cash. After my first 2 years there, I had pretty much spent all my money. So I got a job working at a local Mexican/American restaurant called the Grill House. Yes, a Mexican/American restaurant in Scotland. Ridic.

Now, I hated being a waitress, but looking back, I miss a LOT of things about that place. Here are some of 'em:

Nazid (see photo below): Line cook. Short. Moroccan. Kind of looked like a walking potato. One of 11 children. Would always say, "look at dis, look at dis!" when there was nothing to look at. Once I told him that my sister, Bridget, was coming to visit in a few months. Every day until she came, Nazid would ask, "when is Pigeon coming? I make her nice lamb and couscous!"

Stevie: Dishwasher. 45 years old. Bright red hair. Thick Scottish accent. Still lived with his mom. Always had a box of candy with him and he'd creepily sneak up from behind you and ask, "want a sweetie?" in a high-pitched kind of witch cackle. Claimed that he owned a pet monkey named David Lee.

Paul: Assistant head chef. The grumpiest bastard you've ever met. Took him about a year to finally give me the time of day. Smoked like a chimney. Swore like a sailor. Pudgy. About 45. His wife always came in and made him give her his tips for the week so she could go shopping...bitch.

"The Bing": The bing was not a person, but a slap on the ass. For real. All the waiters/waitresses/kitchen staff/managers would go around slapping each other on the ass with their hands, wooden spoons, rolled up pieces of paper, drink trays, or whatever else they could find and yell "bing!" Yeah, talk about a lawsuit waiting to happen. I'm surprised nobody cried sexual harassment in the 2 years I was there! (and yes, apparently "the bing" was inspired by a "Friends" episiode, for all you "Friends" nuts out there who are wriggling in your seats right now)

The Frozen Margs: Best in town! More sugar than booze, but super delicious anyhow. I once...or twice...or three times drank a whole pitcher to myself. Here's a super cheesed-out photo of my sister and myself enjoying a glass or two of that sweet, sweet nectar!

So basically, I miss the place. It rocked. If you're ever in St. Andrews, Scotland, head over there! Yes, they still have the best (ahem- only) margaritas in town and the best (only) enchiladas in town, as well! I don't know if any of the staff is the same, as the turn-over rate for staff was incredible. If you head over there, be sure to smack somebody on the ass and scream "BING!" They'll love it. Trust me. My lawyer does not endorse this message.

4 Reasons Why 80's Rocker Dudes are More Woman Than You

2010-05-07T08:41:00.000-07:00

1. They have bigger hair than you.
Even with 5 cans of hairspray, you could never get your hair to do what they made it do. I mean, SERIOUSLY! Look at the blonde guy! That is the most amazingly awesome hair I have ever seen. And the guy to the left of him is actually drowning in his own hair- you can barely see his face at all. In the 80's, bigger equalled better, and by that definition, their hair is MUCH better than yours.

2. They wear tighter pants than you.

While you were at home, on your bed, trying to wriggle into your skinny jeans, they were effortlessly leaping into spandex jumpsuits and leather pants. I mean, look at David Lee Roth's bumblebee-colored leggings! Absolutely amazing...even though he kind of looks like the guy from "Silence of the Lambs" in this photo... Need another example? David Bowie in "Labyrinth." Enough said.

3. They wear more makeup than you.
Look at those glossy lips, those well-defined cheekbones, and those perfectly-lined eyes. One of 'em even pencilled in a mole on his cheek. How very Cindy Crawford. You could never achieve this level of airbrushed makeupery (yes, that's now a word). It seems that they even know the Olsen Twins' patented pout method: saying "prune" when the camera snaps.

4. They hit higher notes than you.
I'm gonna have to use David Lee Roth again. Listen to ANY Van Halen Song (with the exception of Van Hagar songs, obviously) and you will hear him hitting higher notes than Mariah Carey. He is the king of the scream. Maybe it's the tight pants that give him the high note superpowers that he has. But it's not just David Lee Roth. Listen to Vince Neil singing in Motley Crue- these 80's men were just higher-pitched in general!

Now that I've left you feeling inadequately feminine, I will leave you with a video that epitomizes all that I have just argued. So sit back, grab your lighter, and enjoy:

DO Judge a Book By Its Cover

2010-05-04T15:16:00.000-07:00

My name is Kathryn and I'm book prejudiced.

I'm not against books as a whole- I love to read. However, I DO judge books by their covers. And, for some reason, I always end up enjoying the books I pick up. I can only attribute this success to the strange, methodical, and rigorous selection process that I practice every time I enter the library.

I don't think I was aware of this process until today I was at the library and mentally found myself checking off things in my head as I was trying to pick out a book to read. Here are the rules that I was subconsciously abiding by:

1. NO FEMALE AUTHORS (I think this one is going to get me into trouble)

Yes, I'm sexist when it comes to literature. Why? Well, I know it would be horribly stereotypical to say that women only write about sex, relationships, love, flowers, texting, and movie stars, because they don't all do that. BUT I don't want to risk it. I don't want to think I'm picking up a quality novel and get stuck with some sickening piece of chick lit. Not my thing. So ladies, sorry, but I'm sticking to men. And yes, I realize that I'm an idiot. (And no, this doesn't apply to blogs!)

2. THE COVER MUST BE PRETTY DARN AWESOME

There must be some sort of cool, modern, graphics or photos on the front. Something that catches my eye and makes me think that this person might be on somewhat the same level as me. Here's an example of a book that I picked up recently (due to its crazy artwork and bright colors) and enjoyed:

3. MUST BE AT LEAST SOMEWHAT HUMOROUS

I'm not big on depressing novels. When I look for a book, I don't expect it to be a side-splitting laugh riot, but I expect some laughs along the way. How do I know if it'll be funny? Read the back where the reviews are. If somebody uses the words "clever," "hilarious," or just plain "funny," I'm in.

4. MUST CATER TO MY ATTENTION SPAN

I, like a great deal of my generation, can't pay attention to anything for very long. It's the downside of growing up with TV; you're programmed from birth to think that nothing is ever longer than 30 minutes and pretty pictures are better than words. Therefore, chapters must be 20 pages or less, and the book itself must be less than 500 pages.

So that's how I pick out a book. It is incredibly moronic, BUT 60% of the time, it works every time. Yes, I just threw in some "Anchorman" for y'all. That just happened.

P.S. Sorry that I have sucked with commenting lately. I'm super behind and, frankly, it's nice out and I don't want to be cooped up with my computer every day. If I haven't visited in a while, it's nothing personal. I'm neglecting you all equally :) I still love you, though!

The Art of Fake Puking

2010-04-26T08:41:00.000-07:00

Making fake puke noises is not a disgusting display of immaturity. It is, in fact, a fine art form that has been practiced for centuries. When the ancient Egyptians were building the pyramids, they were only able to amuse themselves through the use of fake puke noises. When Caesar Augustus ruled the Roman Empire, he would behead any court entertainer that did not display a hilarious variety of fake puke noises. Even the dainty Queen Elizabeth II has been known to punctuate an address to Britain with a well-placed fake puke noise.

To make the fake puke noise, it is important to remember these simple steps:
1. Do not simply make a "BLAAAAAH" sound; move your tongue around in your mouth to make the vomit sound chunkier and wetter.

2. The closer you are to someone's face when you make this sound, the better.

3. Hold your stomach with your hands and double over, as if you were really puking your brains out. This creates a more realistic effect.

Appropriate times to make fake puke noises:
-At the movies, when an incredibly suspenseful scene is occurring.
-During an awkward silence on a first date.
-When the priest says, "You may now kiss the bride."
-Funerals. Anytime.
-In the middle of a briss.
-When ordering your food at a restaurant.
-While driving.
-While singing in your church choir.
-When you're getting a bikini wax.
-When you're actually going to puke. This one is great because it's a double fake-out.
-On your honeymoon.
-On an airplane. Every 3 minutes. Throughout the entire take-off, flight, and landing.
-While breaking up with your boyfriend/girlfriend.
-While giving birth.
-When your child asks you where babies come from.
-In someone's ear, when they're taking a nap.
-When a cop pulls you over.

When you shouldn't make fake puke noises:
-NEVER.

The possibilities are endless when it comes to making fake puke noises. Once you begin, you will discover a whole new world of entertainment, hilarity, and joy. For part II of this educational series, you're on your own. There is no part II. Good day to you and puke away!

The Butt-Pounding Story (hey- get your mind out of the gutter!)

2010-04-20T09:19:00.000-07:00

A few years back, my mom got a coupon for a free 1-hour massage at our local health club. She wasn't going to use it (I know- crazy, right?) so she decided to give it to me. I had never gotten a professional massage before, so I was excited, but also a little nervous.

When the day came, I showed up at the club, changed into my robe, and was eagerly awaited my masseuse. She ended up being a very nice lady and the massage started off like any other. She played some soothing, new-age music, put a cloth over my eyes so I could relax...it was all good. It was a full-body massage, so she massaged my arms, my legs, my head, and my neck. It was fantastic.

For the second half of my massage, I was laying on my stomach so she could massage my back. Once again, this was lovely and felt great. When I could feel the massage coming to an end and there was about a minute left, my masseuse suddenly shifted the towel that was covering me so it was wedged between my butt cheeks. Then, before I knew it, she started POUNDING ON MY BUTT CHEEKS WITH HER FISTS. She went to town on them. I felt like a human bongo drum!
I was so shocked that I couldn't move. Good thing my face was in the massage table pillow, because my eyes bugged out of my head and I started laughing hysterically! She continued doing this for about thirty seconds, then stopped. Then my massage was over.

"Okay," she said. "Just stay there and relax, take some deep breaths, and when you're ready, you can get up." As if what had just happened was perfectly normal. I kind of awkwardly got up after a minute or two and hobbled out of there with a frightened look on my face.

When I got home, I started to think about it more. I'm sure it's some time-honored massage technique for the glutes (or something like that), but why would you make it the very last thing that you do? Is it the grand finale of the massage? Does she simply enjoy leaving people with a sense of shock and horror, rather than a sense of calm? Does she do this to everyone, or does she have to "feel out" the person beforehand to make sure they won't freak out? And if it is a normal massage technique, how come nobody who I talk to has ever had that happen to them? Did she have thirty seconds left and just made something up to fill the time? Was she just messing with me?

Frankly, it was one of the funniest (and insane) things I have ever experienced. I look back on it now and just laugh...and wonder why.

Has this ever happened to you? Have you gotten the butt-pounding treatment, as well? Please tell me I'm not alone!!

Songs I probably shouldn't have on my MP3 player

2010-04-13T10:02:00.000-07:00

Last week, I decided to get myself a new MP3 player with some birthday money, as my old MP# is a huge white brick. As I was transferring the music over from one player to the other, I noticed an array of interesting (and often ridiculous) songs that I'm not sure I even realized I owned. Here are some that really caught me by surprise:

1. Three versions of "It's a Small World." Yes, THREE versions. One is short, one is long, and the last one has the song in different languages. Dear lord. 2. Random quotes from "Billy Madison" i.e. "Shampoo is better! I go on first and clean the hair! Conditioner is better! I make the hair silky and smooth! Oh really fool? Really!" and many more.

3. "The Superbowl Shuffle." GO BEARS!

4. Several songs with hideously inappropriate names, for example, "Erection," "Foreplay," "Gay Bar," and the Tenacious D classic, "Fuck Her Gently."

5. Various 80's and 90's TV theme songs: "Full House," "Family Matters," "David the Gnome," "Hey Dude," "Salute Your Shorts," "Duck Tales," and "Are You Afraid of the Dark?"

6. Some song by Will Smith called "Da Butta"....???
7. The "Indiana Jones" theme- because you can't go on adventures without it!

8. The "Thong Song." I'm more proud of this one than anything. What a classic!

9. Entire Disney World rides. The Splash Mountain track lasts about 12 minutes.

10. The "Babysitting Blues" song from the greatest 80's movie of all time: "Adventures in Babysitting!"

11. Two tracks entitled "Bathroom." I was too afraid to listen to them.

12. And finally, "The Breakfast Song." If you haven't heard this song, it is incredible- go here and watch the video. You won't be sorry! It's a gospel-type song about how you will die one day, and because you're dead, you won't have to eat breakfast that morning. And it's completely serious.

Do you have anything totally ridiculous on your MP3 player, or any tracks that you're totally embarrassed by when they start to play?

For the love of puppies! (and an award)

2010-04-11T19:01:00.000-07:00

Recently, my good friend Yankee Girl went on a little trip to Louisiana to visit some relatives. When she was there, she found an abandoned dog at a truck stop. He was limping, super-adorable, and in desperate need of some love, so decided to take him home. After taking him to the vet and spending loads of money on vaccinations, the doctor let her know that Shorty the dog had a broken and dislocated hip, as well as a bullet lodged in his leg. Some piece of shit shot this poor dog and we think he also threw the dog out of a moving semi. Disgusting. Now Yankee Girl and her husband are stuck with a $2,000 bill for Shorty's surgery to fix his hip and remove the bullet.

If you can help them out in any way, please visit this site and make a donation. Every little bit helps. Or, if you'd like to learn more, go to Yankee Girl's site and hear the story in her own words. I know it's weird to donate money to strangers, but imagine how you would feel if you tried to do something selfless and ended up with a $2,000 bill. Give 'em a break. Please! :)

Now, onto an award! A while back, Angie from My So-Called Chaos gave me this gorgeous award!

I'm so grateful for Angie. Since she started following me, she has been a great support and a great commenter. She not only gave me this award, but also featured me on her site for a week, which was so exciting! Angie always has something interesting to say and she is never afraid to speak her mind, so her blog is definitely worth a look- check her out!

Now, I'm supposed to say 7 things about myself and nominate 15 bloggers that I recently started following and am enjoying! I haven't even started following 5 new blogs recently, so I'll do 2! Talk about slacking off.

About me:

1. I am afraid of people ripping my veins out of my arms. No joke.

2. I hate talking on the phone. I don't care if you are my mom or my best friend. I hate it. Please text me.

3. I am FAR too excited to see Huey Lewis and the News in concert this coming Friday.

4. I would give anything to be in an 80's hair metal band. I know I'm a girl, but that wouldn't stop me from being the best frontman ever!

5. Last summer I went on 7 vacations.

6. I will spend money just to save money, if that makes sense at all.

7. I want to own a Delorean more than anything else in the world.

Great blogs:

1. I have been following Elle from "A" For Effort ("B" for Blog) for a while now (yeah, I'm bending the rules a LOT on this award. whatev.) and I really feel like I have found a friend in her. She is a great commenter, she always responds to your comments, and she always has something nice to say. So overall, she's a way cool chick!

2. I just, I mean JUST, started following Lindsay at Canadian Girl on a Budget, but I'm really enjoying her blog. First of all, I'm a penny-pincher to the end, so she's a girl after my own heart. Second of all, her blog it not just boring "this is how you save" lectures- it's fun, personal stories with frugality mixed in.

And, please people, bear with me if I am taking FOREVER to get over to your blogs. My computer just won the award as the "world's slowest," so just getting over to ten blogs takes me over an hour. I'm trying, I promise!

A big thanks to all of you "nifty fifty" who follow me- I totally adore you!

Rick, the creepy bowling guy

2010-04-07T17:27:00.000-07:00

He's a skinny guy- not normal skinny, but an underfed, malnourished, sickly kind of skinny. He's bald on top, but has a ring of long, stringy, greasy hair that starts at the crown of his head. He wears hideous, 80's-style brown tortoiseshell glasses and dirty clothes. He's probably about 40 years old. The only person I can think of to compare him to is Riff Raff from "Rocky Horror Picture Show"- just add glasses and you're kind of there. He's Rick the Creepy Bowling Guy.

And he's in love with me.

Rick has worked at my local bowling alley for as long as I can remember. He doesn't own the place, and I don't think he manages it, either. He has just worked there for upwards of 15 years. Very ambitious, you say? Oh yes. Yes, indeed.

When I was in high school, I used to go bowling once a week with my friend, Amy. Rick knew us by name and we liked him and thought he was cool, for some bizarre reason. We wrote him notes on our score sheet and he used to give us stickers and fake tattoos. He also never let us pay for our bowling shoes. "It's alright, girls. I got it." Oh so suave, Rick. Bowling shoes are totally the way to a girl's heart. Looking back, I have started to realize how nasty it is that a 30 something year-old guy was hitting on a bunch of 15 year-olds (and he was hitting on us).

Soon, I left for college and didn't see him for 4 years. When I graduated from college, I moved back to my hometown, just a 5 minute walk from the bowling alley. I went bowling with my roommates one night and saw Rick was there. I didn't say anything, hoping he had forgotten about me. It seemed that he had at first, but after the game, I went up to pay and he goes, "Hey, Kathryn! I wasn't sure it was you at first, but then I recognized your mannerisms."

My bowling mannerisms? He had studied me so closely over the years that he knew my bowling mannerisms? Totally weird.

I go bowling there every once in a while now, and he has gone back to paying for my shoes. He has given me bowling pins a couple times, along with Sharpies to decorate the pins. Yes, apparently, he thinks I'm 3 years old. I still think he's a complete creeper, but he's harmless and I'm not going to complain about getting free shoes. Sometimes you just need to accept the creepiness and use it to your advantage.

How about you guys? I want to hear about all the creepers in your lives, because I KNOW you have one!

A change of character.

2010-03-31T19:41:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty much a dude. When I was a kid, I didn't want to have anything to do with the My Little Ponies, Polly Pockets, or Barbies. Instead, I was spinning on my butt, pretending to be Michelangelo from "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles." When my friends and I used to play He-Man, I was always the man himself. I don't listen to Katy Perry or Lady Gaga- I rock out to Scorpions, Ratt, Whitesnake, and Def Leppard (yeah, all great 80's hair metal bands have to have an animal in the name).

So basically, I have never considered myself to be very feminine. I may look kinda girly, but I have always thought of myself as a rough, masculine kind of person rather than a gentle, delicate girly girl.

I am also a cheap bastard. Anyone who knows me knows that I pinch every penny. I go to the "free stuff" websites and squeal when my trial-sized tubes of toothpaste, mini boxes of cereal, or packets of Metamucil come in the mail. I clip coupons and I use them. I don't buy things unless they're on sale. I'm basically an 80-year-old Jewish grandma in the body of a 24-year-old.

So it really shocked me about a month ago when I fell in love. With a purse.

I was writing an article for work entitled "Fun Spring Accessories" that required me to scour the internet for...well...fun spring accessories. I went over to the Ann Taylor site (God knows why- I have never shopped there and I don't feel quite old enough to start) and clicked on "handbags and belts," hoping that I could find a great belt to add to the collection. But that's when I saw it. Right in the middle of the page. Shining and beautiful. This gorgeous purse:

It was immediately the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and fell deeply, madly, passionately in love.

Oh, and it was $198. I have NEVER spent more than $60 on a purse and I don't think I've ever spent more than $100 on any item of clothing before (besides maybe a prom dress or something). I couldn't justify buying it. So instead, I told everyone I knew about it. I visited it every day in its home on the Ann Taylor website. I admired it. I dreamt of touching its soft leathery goodness. And I futilely put it on my birthday list, knowing that nobody would get it for me.

When my birthday came, my boyfriend gave me my presents. No purse. My grandparents gave me my presents. No bag. My parents gave me my presents. Still no bag.

A few hours after I had opened my presents from my parents, my mom left the room and came back saying, "oops, I forgot one present!" You all know what happens next.

So now I am the owner of a girly, expensive bag and I have never been prouder. But I wonder if this signifies some sort of change in me. Will I start spending more on clothes? Will I start caring more about accessories and hair and makeup and clothes? Or is this just one momentary lapse in character? All I know is that I feel like a million bucks, so I don't care. I am a little concerned, however, that my new best friend is now a purse.

And her name is Henrietta...

Things Said While Half-Asleep

2010-03-26T18:14:00.000-07:00

I, like 10,000 other people (literally), am obsessed with the blog Sleep Talkin' Man. If you haven't heard of it, it's basically a woman who records her husband as he sleep talks every night and then she blogs about what he says. It's almost always really obscene and ridiculous insults, which makes me think he actually hates his wife.

But ANYWAYS, I have decided to do my own little version and list a few weird things that either my boyfriend or I have said while half-asleep. Here goes:

Boyfriend: "But what about the baggage people?" This was said in the middle of a conversation we were having. The conversation had absolutely nothing to do with baggage, travel, airports, etc. After he said it, he immediately was like, "where the hell did that come from?"

Me: I dreamt last night that I was a police officer and Robin Williams was a killer and he was on the loose and he had a gun that emitted a sound that would make people's organs fail and I stole the gun but he got it back and I knew to cover my ears but nobody else did and he shot the gun and I survived but everyone else died. Yes, all one sentence. All said in a perfectly peaceful manner.

Me: Can you move your leg?

Boyfriend: (moves leg) Can you still see?

Me: What??

Boyfriend: I just wanted to make sure you could still see.

Um, we were sleeping. When you sleep, your eyes are closed. There was nothing to see.

Boyfriend: I love you, Amanda. (name has been changed to protect the innocent)

Now this one would be lovely...if my name was Amanda. But it's not. It's Kathryn. Amanda is his ex-girlfriend. As you would imagine, I flipped my shit.

Me: Isn't there an 80's song called "The Politics of Dancing?"

I don't remember saying this at all. I have no idea why this thought popped into my weird half-asleep head. And, yes, there is an 80's song called "The Politics of Dancing." And it's INCREDIBLE.

On a completely unrelated note, I have a few things that are coming up soon that I'm totally looking forward to. Here they are:

1. My 24th birthday on Tuesday!

2. My awesome, geeked-out bowling birthday party tomorrow night.

3. Getting presents :)

4. Getting my first facial next week.

5. Seeing HUEY LEWIS AND THE NEWS on April 16th! The tickets just came in the mail!

6. Getting lots of fun government money in the mail sometime soon.

That's all for this assortment of randomness. See y'all soon!

I make myself want to puke.

2010-03-21T18:45:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is my boyfriend's and my 1 year anniversary. Because our anniversary is on a Monday, we decided to make a weekend of it and celebrate on Saturday and Sunday. On Saturday, we went to a Chicago Wolves hockey game. It's a pretty fun time- they make a huge spectacle out of everything with fireworks and pyrotechnics. Super over-the-top, but all American sports are, really.

Anyways, I had something planned. Something so cheesy that when it happened, I almost didn't want to point it out because I was so embarassed that I did it. About ten minutes into the game, this popped up on one of the big screens:

Yes, it's sickening, isn't it? I'm usually not like that...I don't know what got into me. And, because every serious announcement should end with one, I ended it with a "Goulet!" (SNL? Will Ferrell as Robert Goulet? No? Ok.)

I was unsure as to whether my metalhead boyfriend would appreciate a sugary sweet public declaration of love, but he really liked it. Apparently nobody had ever done anything like that for him before, so he was pretty shocked.

Just thought I'd share with you the most nauseating thing I think I've ever done. Hope you all didn't puke a little in your mouths.

I'm a Slacker

2010-03-19T12:57:00.000-07:00

So not only have I not posted in a week or commented in several days, but I have also failed to acknowledge some awesome awards that people have given me over the last couple of months. I know award posts are pretty boring, so I'll try to make mine (somewhat) brief!

The first award I received was from Yankee Girl, who is a blog friend and a real friend of mine. It was actually reading her blog that inspired me to start mine! If you don't know her, go over and check her out. She's hilarious, provocative, and is currently on the mission to have sexy times with her husband 700 times in one year! So go over there- you know you want to! Here's the award:
For this award, I'm supposed to list ten things that make me happy and pass the award on to ten bloggers that brighten my day. Because I'm doing 2 other awards after this, I'm going to limit this to 5 things and 3 bloggers.

Things that make me happy:
1. Disney World. Everything about Disney World. The rides, the smells, the characters, the weather, the fact that I don't even need a map because I know it so well, the fact that they say "welcome home" when you arrive at the hotels...everything.
2. Sleeping. Sometimes I get so excited to sleep that I actually dance into bed.
3. Getting followers/comments. C'mon- we all love it, really!
4. "Full House" reruns on TV. I don't know what I would do without Joey, Jesse, Danny, and the girls. I probably know every line of every episode.
5. Giant pretzels. They're so effing good.

Bloggers:
1. Dan from Vacant Mind. He has been super supportive from the get-go, always leaves me the kindest and funniest comments, and he always has something interesting to write about. I fell in love with him after reading this post and never looked back!
2. Bird Shit and Baby Caca from The Two Twins are always writing about something hideously inappropriate or absurd, and I totally dig that.
3. Erin from I'm Staying Young Forever always cracks me up. She's a party girl and she's totally doing everything she can to delay the aging process...it usually involves booze...

The next award I got was from JenJen at The Battle Book. Jen's blog is always a fun read. She really, truly, is a daring writer and regularly cracks me up. Stop over and say hello! Lori from Tiny Little Reveries also gave me this beautiful award!! I'll talk about her in a sec. Here it is:For this award, I'm supposed to nominate 12 fabulous bloggers but, once again, for the sake of time and space, I'll do 3 bloggers:

1. Cathy from Antsy Pants was one of my first followers, and I'm so grateful to have her comments and support. She's an awesome blogger and her blog has features like "Booze Day Tuesday" and "Flashback Friday." Fun stuff!
2. Helen from Feeding Five For Fifty is a lovely Scotswoman who is always cooking up the most delicious-looking food. Her blog makes me drool every single time I read it. She leaves awesome comments, too!
3. Karls from Karlosophies is an Aussie with an attitude. She makes me laugh all the time and because she's a voice-over artist, she sometimes post blogs in audio form. Way cool.

Lori from Tiny Little Reveries was generous enough to give me the Sunshine award and this next award! What a gal! She writes about her hilarious husband, teenage kids, American Idol, and so much more. There's nothing not to love about her blog. Go visit her! Here's my award:For this award, I'm supposed to list ten interesting things about myself and pass the award onto 7 bloggers. I'll do 5 things and 3 bloggers.

Interesting things:
1. I was the vice captain of my college's rifle club. So don't mess with me.
2. I have ridden the tallest and fastest roller coaster in the world. It was 420 feet high and 120 mph. (This was a few years ago, so I think ther's a bigger one now)
3. I regularly have conversations with the navigation system in my car. His name is Kenneth.
4. If I had one celebrity friend, it would be Rob Dyrdek.
5. I can eat insanely large amounts of food for my size. I out-eat my 220-lb boyfriend almost every time.

Bloggers:
1. Intense Guy from Intense Guy (duh!) has been a wonderful supporter of my blog since day one. He writes about history, places, and interesting facts. I always walk away from his blog having learned something.
2. StarGazer from Live. Laugh. Dream. is such a sweet, honest, normal girl. Her blog is incredibly refreshing. No gimmicks, no hype. Just fun, interesting stories about her life. She deserves way more followers than she has.
3. Millions of Atoms Man from Millions of Atoms is someone I just started following. I either leave his blog laughing hysterically or feeling confused. I'm happy either way. He cracks me up.

So there you go, folks! Blog awards done! Please, please, please, go check out all these awesome bloggers- they really deserve a visit!

I promise not to be such a slacker in the future- if I haven't visited your blogs in a few days, don't worry- I'll be there soon! Now I'm off to celebrate my one year anniversary with the boyfriend! Woo!

I've Been Found Out!

2010-03-12T12:03:00.000-08:00

First of all, I just wanted to say a big thanks to all my new followers! You all rock, and I'm super-pumped to have you here!

Now, on with the story:

For those of you who don't know, I started working as an editorial intern about 5 weeks ago. I write for two websites for women, do social networking, edit stuff, etc. Another intern was hired at the same time, as well.

Last week, the other intern and I had a meeting with the C.E.O. to chat about the company, its history, and how we're progressing so far. We were talking about what we enjoyed so far and the other intern and I mentioned that we both have blogs in real life, so we enjoy the writing aspect of our job a great deal. The C.E.O. responds with "Well, I'd love to see your blogs sometime! Maybe you could send me the links." My mind IMMEDIATELY shoots straight to the "Ten guys over 45 I'd totally do" post and I start to panic. I believe I responded with, "I don't think my blog is entirely work-appropriate!" and laughed it off. It wasn't mentioned again.

Yesterday, the C.E.O. walks into the office and announces, "Kathryn! I found your blog!" I thought he was trying to mess with me at first, so I say, "No you didn't!" He then starts talking about the specifics of what he read and I realize he actually found it. Even though my name is not on the blog (at all), he found it. I'm pretty sure I turned beet red and started to hyperventilate.

Basically, this is what I looked like, in 3-year-old boy form:

But to my shock and awe, the C.E.O. says "You're a great writer! I really like it!" I almost fell out of my seat. Now I don't know if he actually saw the aforementioned post...if he didn't, I'm sure he will now...(hi Phil, by the way!)...but if he did, he sure handled it well. Then he left and went back to his office and I sat with my heart beating at rapid speeds for another half hour or so.

That night, my co-workers and I went out for happy hour at a local bar/microbrewery. After a few drinks, the C.E.O. left and it came up in the conversation that he had found my blog. Everyone knew that there was one post that I hadn't wanted him to see, but I refused to tell them and they didn't know how to find my blog. After some (not so gentle) prodding, I finally told them about my countdown of hot men over 45. The next thing I knew, one of the guys pulls out his smartphone and asks me "is it forty-five the word, or 45 the number?" Oh god. I had just given them a way to find my blog. Within minutes, he pulls up my blog and announces in a booming voice:

"Ten guys over 45 I'd totally do! Drumroll, please!" (cue my co-workers tapping their hands on the table drumroll-style)

He then proceeds to read most of the list out as I sit there trying not to die of a heart attack.

It would have been different if I had known these people for months/years and we were all close friends, but I have only worked at this place for 5 weeks. On a part-time basis. I have technically only seen these people like 15 times.

Thankfully, everyone laughed it off and it wasn't a big deal, but I thought for a moment that I would actually die. Now that mostly everyone from the office has found my blog, I feel a bit uneasy about writing. Who knows- maybe I'll say the wrong thing and get fired...But I suppose they've pretty much seen the worst of already. All my co-workers are now aware of my strange sexual preferences, and I can't really imagine anything more uncomfortable than that!

But there's no way to go now but forward- let's see how far I can push things without losing my job, shall we?

Oh crap. (literally)

2010-03-07T19:50:00.001-08:00

I live in a 2-flat with my roommates. We live on the top floor and our downstairs neighbors are a couple in their 30's with three children under the age of four. We all share a washer and dryer that is located in our basement. Needless to say, this can be a pain in the butt, as they do laundry ALL THE TIME. Our basement has mountains of laundry in every corner and I feel like baby socks and pint-sized pants are everywhere I turn.

While the washer and dryer are almost never available, one day I managed to throw my laundry in when my neighbors' backs were turned. When I turned on the washer, I heard some clinking noises, but I thought nothing of it. I figured it was just the buttons on my jeans hitting the sides. Later, when the cycle was done, I went back and started unloading my stuff. After I had put all the laundry into the dryer, I saw something sitting on the bottom of the washer. I couldn't tell what it was, so I reached down and grabbed it. It was rock hard, about the size of a golf ball, and it was brown. As I rolled it around in my hand and inspected it, trying to figure out what it was, I suddenly realized something.

I was holding a piece of poop.

Not only was I holding a chunk of poop, but I had just washed my clothes with a piece of poop, as well. It seems that the neighbors, who use cloth diapers on their babies, had failed to remove the poop from the diapers before throwing them in the washer. So, lucky me! I get shit-covered clothes!

Because the poop was hard and dried out, my clothes didn't get anything on them (thank god) but I was still pretty effing grossed out. I'm 23! I'm far too young to be dealing with baby poop! Especially baby poop, soaked in soap and water, rolling around with my underwear! UGH.

I never said anything to my neighbors because I'm too much of a wimp to confront them and it has never happened again, but I now check the bottom of the washer every time. Just to make sure I don't end up throwing my laundry in with, I don't know, a huge piece of dried vomit or something.

It wouldn't surprise me...

Gettin' dumped.

2010-03-01T20:35:00.001-08:00

No, don't worry! I have not been dumped! But, I was just sitting here watching "Tool Academy" (because that's how I roll) and I started thinking about the worst ways to get dumped. If anyone out there doesn't know what "Tool Academy" is:

1. I pity you. It is amazing.
2. It is a show about people who are dating absolutely disgusting jerks who cheat on them regularly, fake tan too much, and flex their muscles 24/7. These people bring their toolish boyfriends on the show in hopes of changing them and saving their relationship. There's a therapist and ridiculous challenges and one tool is eliminated every week.

Anyways, THREE TIMES this season (I think) the tool has actually dumped the girlfriend! These poor girls- or maybe I should say stupid girls- have put up with these morons who go around claiming to be single, cheating all the time, and caring more about their hair gel than anything else. Instead of dumping their asses like they should have done years ago, the girlfriends actually give them chance upon chance and continue to love them. And then the tools turn around and dump THEM!? On national television?? How horribly humiliating.

Then, I started to realize that I have been dumped the best way EVER in the history of breakups. I mean- looking back, I'm not even embarassed- it cracks me up. First off, it wasn't a real relationship in any sense of the word. It was 7th grade and I was madly in love with Kevin, a super-cute, skinny kid who sat behind me in math class. We were friends and we'd hung out before, and finally I decided to ask him out. Yes, I was truly a girl of the 90's. So I asked him out (probably in note form- I don't remember), he said yes, and so we were boyfriend and girlfriend. What did that mean? Well, nothing. I don't think we ever actually went out alone or even touched. It was 7th grade!

But about a week later, in the middle of math class, Kevin hands me his calculator. It was one of those TI-83 fancy shmancy graphing calculators that you could write words on. One of thse dealies:

And written in tiny calculator letters across the screen, it says:

I DON'T THINK THIS IS WORKING OUT.

I remember laughing because I didn't know what he was talking about at first. Then I remember my tiny 7th grade heart shattering into pieces. So what did I do? I typed "OK" into the calculator and handed it back.

So yeah, I was dumped ON A CALCULATOR.

Pretty awesome, huh? I can't really think of a better way to get dumped than on a calculator. It's just the most absurd thing ever. It would be like going out to eat with someone and writing in ketchup on your plate: "It's not you- it's me." Just ridiculous.

Someone out there must have a better breakup story than me, though. I want to hear them all! Spill your guts!

What is American?

2010-02-23T10:34:00.000-08:00

No, this isn't some deep philosophical question. I'm not that kinda gal. Basically, my bestest friend in the world, Vicki, is flying in from her home in London sometime this summer to visit me! We met in college and were best friends since day 1. In our last year of college, we decided that at some point she would come and visit me in the states, so we needed to save up some cash for when her trip. We were working in the same restaurant at the time, and each week we put aside £5 of our tips into a "trip fund." Thank god for the US economy being shit and the dollar being weak, because we changed that money into dollars and now we have $620 sitting in the bank for us to spend!!

I was talking to Vicki on Skype the other day and we were starting to plan the trip. At one point she said, "I want to do really American stuff!" My response was "uhhh.....what is American? Eating fast food and watching TV?"

Some of her suggestions included going to a baseball game (obviously), a rib joint (?), and she going to Medieval Times (which, if you think about it, is completely un-American!). But other than that, I need to come up with absolutely amazing stuff for us to do. $620 worth of amazing stuff.

I have had some friends come visit from the UK before, but they were boys. I don't know what that has to do with anything, but I just feel like I have more freedom with Vicki and we can do more fun and ridiculous stuff. SOOOOOO, I need your help! Here are a few things I have thought of so far, but I need many more! (Keep in mind that I live in Chicago and things like rodeos and pig wrasslin' are not readily available.)

MY IDEAS SO FAR:

-Eat deep-dish pizza and Chicago style hot dogs
-Baseball game
-Beach
-Drive-in movie
-Have a BBQ
-Zoo/museums/Art Institute

-Road trip to St. Louis or Milwaukee

-Shopping

These are all WAY too boring, as you can see, and they won't make for 10 days of fun. Please help me give my British friend the best time she's ever had! Suggestions??

We're doomed.

2010-02-20T14:04:00.000-08:00

I feel like more and more often, I see something on TV or the internet that makes me lose faith in all humanity. Here are some of them:

"The Tooth Fairy" movie

What brain-dead assortment of cast, crew, and writers decided that this is something they wanted to become a part of? It's just absurd (in a bad way). I almost feel bad for The Rock. A few years ago he was walking around the wrestling ring, flexing his muscles, and beating down burly men. Now he's wearing a tutu and putting money under children's pillows. Whatev, he chose it. I know the economy is bad and people need work, but COME ON! A guy that turns into the Tooth Fairy?

The Hoodie Footie Snuggle Suit

Please tell me you have heard of this. If not, watch this video NOW! It claims to be a combination of slippers, a hoodie, and a blanket. Heaven forbid you ACTUALLY wear slippers, a hoodie, and a blanket. No, that'd be crazy! I am not a fan of the return of footie pajamas, and this is like footie pajamas on crack. Plus, it comes in only one color: Pepto Bismol pink. Way to make yourself look 4 years old and rid yourself of hint of sexiness. And good luck, boyfriends and husbands of the world. This thing is like a fortress. P.S. This thing has far too strong a resemblance to the two things:

1. Ralphie's bunny suit in "A Christmas Story"

2. The Griswold family's pig suits from "European Vacation"

Tila Tequila

Tila Tequila has always been a self-obsessed fame-whore, but I never thought she was the scum of the earth until recently. A couple months ago, her "wife-to-be" (in quotations because who really knows what is a publicity stunt and what's not) recently died. What did Tila do? She Tweeted about it. Yes, that's exactly what I would do after my fiance died. I wouldn't spend time with family or friends or mourn privately. I'd share my insincere sorrow with the world on the most distinguished of websites. Tila was sad for about a day. A couple days later, she was on Twitter again, claiming to be pregnant. Was she really? Probably not. Then she started freaking out (on Twitter again) and claimed that The Game was the father and he was a deadbeat dad. Then she claimed she had a miscarriage. If that did happen, I'm very sorry for her but, once again, you don't go Tweeting that shit. Now she's flying off to Russia to adopt some little boy (God help him). If everything she does/says/Tweets is real, fine. She has been through a lot of troubling stuff, then. But in my heart, I'm pretty sure that 90% of everything she does is for attention and fame. Just looked on Twitter and she's apparently pregnant again (cough-BULLSHIT!-cough). And she says, "I spoke to the baby's father today & we were talking about getting married." Yes, she posted that today. SHE JUST LOST HER FIANCE. I can't even talk about her anymore because she infuriates me.

***That's all for now, but I find more and more every day, so I'm sure this list will be extended many a time.

***Oh, and sorry for the lack of commenting and blogging lately (not that anyone probably cares...), but I'm trying to work out my whole new work-blog-life schedule at the moment! Later, dudes.

Yes, a Valentine's Day post.

2010-02-10T18:34:00.000-08:00

To start off, I just wanted to let y'all know that I started my new job this week and I LOVE it! I have never loved a job in my life, but I actually LOVE this job! I'm writing articles for a couple of websites that have over 2 million subscribers, I'm editing stuff, and (here's the best part) I'm tweeting and blogging and Facebooking for a living! Who'd have thunk it? I have actually been looking forward to going to work! Whaaa? The only downside is that I'm starting to realize that keeping up with everybody's blogs is going to be a (big) challenge. I'll do my best, folks! Anyways, to get on with this post...

Is everyone disappointed on Valentine's Day every year, or is it just me?

Actually, last year was pretty sweet. I spent the day at EPCOT in Disney World, then flew home and went to a drag show at a gay bar with my roommates. What a strange day...it went from a G-rating to an R-rating in like 3 hours. That was probably one of the best Valentine's Days that I have ever had, and I think it was because I was single!

I, unlike most, actually ENJOY being single on Valentine's day. Why? When you're single, you have no expectations and, therefore, no chance to be disappointed and miserable and cry yourself to sleep with your face in a box full of half-eaten chocolates. I guess every year I just expect some amazing surprise. One with candles and rose petals and a hot air balloon ride all that other bullshit that Hollywood drills into your head. Why, Hollywood, why? I expect to be fully swept off my feet and, boy, does that never happen.

I have never had a particularly BAD V-Day, but they're never as fabulous as they're cracked up to be. It's always dinner at some restaurant with a ridiculous set menu that offers things like passionfruit cheesecake or heart-shaped pizzas or something. Then you go home and end up with rug burns in odd places and whipped cream up your nose. Bleurgh. I think the issue with Valentine's Day is that, essentially, it tries to force romance. You can't do it! You can't force romance! Planned romance is simply not romantic...unless only one person has planned it.

This is my first V-Day with the boyfriend, we've been together for 11 months, and I'm trying not to expect too much. We're planning a pretty low-key day, which I haven't really done before, so hopefully it will be the key to success. The plan is to go to an indoor climbing place, do some climbing, hopefully leave with all bones intact, then maybe get about 5 pounds of grocery store sushi, head home, and watch a movie or something.

PLEASE make it be fun!

Ten guys over 45 I'd TOTALLY do!

2010-02-05T12:14:00.000-08:00

"No! You have ketchupy hands! You'll get ketchup on my belly button hairs!"

Just thought I'd start this post with some words of wisdom I heard being shouted by the neighbors downstairs. Interpret them how you'd like, 'cause I have NO idea what was going on.

So that bring us (not so) seamlessly to a fabulous list that I have been working on for a while. You may not know this, but I am a fan of older men. A big fan. And, as you probably noticed in my Childhood Crushes post, I often have very weird taste in the opposite sex. So I figured I may as well prove it with this list of...

TEN GUYS OVER 45 I'D TOTALLY DO!

Here goes (in ascending age order):

#1: Christopher Meloni (Age 48)

You probably know him from "Law and Order: SVU," but I prefer him as Gene, the fridge-humping, vegetable-talking, war veteran and Jewish summer camp cook from "Wet Hot American Summer." In real life, he's got muscles and tattoos and he's pretty hot stuff.

#2: John Corbett (Age 48)

Carrie from "Sex and the City" TOTALLY made the wrong choice when she chose Big over Aiden. He is so adorable that I'm tempted to jump into my computer right now and make out with his picture.

#3: Simon Cowell (Age 50)

Now, most people think I'm nuts for having a crush on him, but I have my reasons. Basically I'm in love with him because he is secretly a softy. You can tell that he really is a sweet guy inside his dick-ish shell. Proof: he gives lots of money every year to animal charities. Fact! And he's kind of a creeper, which I (for some reason) like...

#4: Richard Dean Anderson (Age 50)

Alright, now we're calling in the big guns. How could you say no to MacGyver?!? He's hot, he never kills anybody, and if he can do amazing things with a straw, a pencil, and some silly putty, I'm pretty sure he can do some other amazing things, too (wink, wink, nudge, nudge!)

#5: Alec Baldwin (Age 51)

I don't care that he used to be 500 times hotter. I don't care that he is now pretty...hefty. I don't care that he called his daughter a pig in real life. He is gorgeous and he is HILARIOUS, and if you don't believe me, watch any episode of "30 Rock" or go see "It's Complicated."

#6: Dee Snider (Age 54)

You probably don't recognize the Twisted Sister frontman without his curly blonde locks and caked on make-up, but I do! Why do I lurve him? First of all, I'm a sucker for a rocker, especially an 80's rocker! Second of all, he is funny as hell! Watch any panel show on VH1 (he's on most of 'em, but my fave is "I Love the 80's") and you'll probably end up peeing your pants in hysterics.

#7: David Lee Roth (Age 55)

This man is a legend. A spandex-wearing, split-doing, high-pitched-screaming legend. He can sing "Hot For Teacher" to me anytime.

#8: Gene Simmons (Age 60)

Uh, oh. Another rocker. And we've hit age 60. My explanation? Just watch "Gene Simmons' Family Jewels" and it will all become clear. Rock star? Check. Family man? Check. Kind of clueless and adorable? Check.

#9: David Bowie (Age 63)

This man is my #1 hero. My blog is named after lyrics from one of his songs, my username is named after him, and my bedroom is pretty Bowie-a-fied, too. He's incredibly intelligent, endlessly talented, and still pretty darn handsome. Yes, he's getting old, but wouldn't you want to say you spent the night with Jareth from "Labyrinth"???

#10: Harrison Ford (Age 67)
That's right, folks. Indiana Jones is almost 70. Although he is the oldest on this list, he is my #1 crush. You can't get more masculine than Harrison Ford. He's always punching somebody, shooting somebody, whipping somebody, or doing something bad-ass. He's rugged. Grrowl.

So there's my list. Let me know if I forgot any other oldies-but-goodies that deserve recognition!

Workin' for a living

2010-02-04T21:43:00.000-08:00

SOOOO, I have some fabulous news! Well, it's fabulous for me, not really for anyone else. Remember that job interview I had last Friday? Well, I GOT THE JOB! I'm so excited that 5 months of job-hunting finally paid off! So now I am officially an......(drumroll, please)

Editorial intern!!
oooh! aaah! (I don't hear you, people!)

Overall, I am incredibly happy to finally be getting back to work, making some money, and actually doing something with my time. On the other hand, I started thinking today about how my days are going to change, and it's going to be pretty drastic. This is pretty much what I have been doing for 5 months straight.

10:00am- Alarm goes off. Hit snooze approx. 5 times
10:45am- Finally wake up (but stay in bed)
11:00am- Open laptop and check emails
11:10am- Catch up on the reality shows I may have missed (i.e. "Tough Love," "For the Love of Ray J," "Sex Rehab," etc. You know, all the classy stuff.)
12:30pm- Think about getting out of bed.
12:32pm- Decide to stay in bed.
12:35pm- Facebook stalk people.
1:00pm- Complete newest quizzes on http://www.sporcle.com/.
1:30pm- Finally get out of bed and make a sandwich.
1:40pm- Get in shower; sing and dance to music on shower radio.
2:00pm- Dry hair, get dressed, and put on makeup (all while reading blogs).
2:30pm- Watch old episodes of "Full House" on youtube.
3:20pm- Boyfriend shows up. Hang out with boyfriend. This usually entails going back to sleep or laying in bed some more, talking.
5:00pm- Boyfriend leaves.
5:05pm- Go online and actually look for jobs.
5:30pm- Roomies get home. Talk to roomies.
6:00pm- Make 3lb plate of spaghetti and eat it all.
6:45pm- Kickboxing class with roomie #2 (aka the only time of day that I move more than 2 inches). Try not to puke up the spaghetti.
8:00pm-Arrive home.
8:00pm-2:00am- Lay in bed in my workout clothes because I'm too lazy to change, watch a movie, read a book, or do something similarly motionless. Oh, and lots of job-hunting, too.
2:00am- Fall asleep.

Basically, this was me.....or IS me up until Monday:

I suppose we'll see how I make my transition back into the world of the living and the productive. I only hope "Full House" doesn't miss me too much...

A little competition never hurt anybody...

2010-01-31T22:05:00.000-08:00

First of all, I just wanted to say thanks to everybody for the support you gave me regarding the job interview- it really helped pump me up! I think the interview went well, but you never know! I'm supposed to hear back by the end of this week...I hope I get it, or else I'll be totally embarrassed...

ANYWAYS, to get to what I actually wanted to talk about:

My boyfriend and I want to kill each other.

Okay, we don't ACTUALLY want to kill each other, but if you saw us sometimes, you probably would think that we do. First of all, when it comes to competition, we fight to the death. I have known this for a while now (well, since our first date) but it really hit me when I went over to Yankee Girl's house the other night with the boyfriend. After dinner, we decided we would play some Wii games. After talking a lot of shit, as usual, I beat the boyfriend at Wii bowling and Wii mini-golf, and it was suggested that we Wii box each other. This was our response:

Me: I would rather REALLY box him!
Boyfriend: Yeah, cause we know who would win that!
Me: Yeah, me!
Boyfriend: Yeah right! This is how it would go- I would punch you once really hard, you'd fall to the ground, and then you'd whine "why did you hit me so hard?"
Me: Please! I would beat your ass!
(and this continued for another minute or two)

The funny thing is, this conversation happens a LOT. When we're alone. Our threats are other people's baby talk. When an adorable couple sitting on the park bench next to us is calling each other "shmoopsy poo" and "cuddle bear," the boyfriend and I are threatening to burn each other with car cigarette lighters and break each others' arms. (now, please don't be alarmed. like I said before, none of this is serious at all- we would never actually hurt each other and we love each other very much!)

Not only are we verbally aggressive, but when competition arises, we aim to kill- well, the boyfriend would probably say that I alone do. So far, I have beaten him at bowling about 9 times, mini golfing twice, arcade games twice, wrestling a few times (yes, we wrestle and I wouldn't call it play-wrestling, either) and numerous other games and sports, including Guess Who?, Scrabble, and Catchphrase. Yep, our battles are epic. Word-based board games? Bring 'em on!

The other night, Yankee Girl asked me, "Don't you ever let him win?" and I answered with an incredulous "NO!" Because why on earth would I do that?

Maybe it is the polite thing to do. Maybe it can really bruise a guy's ego to be beaten by his girlfriend all the time. Maybe it's not very feminine to become uber-competitive every time a game or sport arises. Maybe smack-talking is a bit rude. But I'm pretty sure it's something that's not going to change...ever.

When Wii boxing began, we were jabbing and hooking and uppercutting like our lives were at stake. And I may have grabbed Dan's hands a few times to try to stop him from killing me in the game. But an astounding thing happened that night...

He won. Fair and square, he won. I knocked him out a good couple of times, but he pretty much massacred me toward the end. I was throwing punches into mid-air and he was connecting with my (digital) face over and over and over. I was shocked. As my lifeless Wii body lay there and the boyfriend's Wii boxer was walking around with his hands up in the air, my only response was this:

"Well, I knocked you out first!"

Oh no, oh no, oh no...

2010-01-28T20:29:00.000-08:00

Job interview tomorrow.
Absolutely terrified.
Think I'm gonna puke.

What was she thinking???

2010-01-25T22:11:00.001-08:00

I'm sure that most of you have heard the story and seen the photos online, in magazines, and on TV. What am I referring to? Well, 23-year-old Heidi Montag of "The Hills" decided that her grotesque, elderly body was sagging and needed some work. So she decided to get 10 plastic surgery procedures at once.

First of all, this girl is 23 and has already had her boobs and nose done. I wouldn't get my boobs or nose done, but I can understand it- she's a celebrity, there's pressure to look good, done. STOP THERE. Nope- last month, she decided to go out and get the following:

- Brow lift- Botox- Nose Job #2- Fat injections in the face- Chin reduction- Liposuction of the neck- Liposuction on the waist- Liposuction on the hips- Liposuction on the thighs- Ears pinned back- Breast augmentation #2- Butt augmentation

Let me take issue with some of these right now. Brow lift. Brow lift??? Not a single person at age 23 needs a brow lift, unless they are the daughter of Frankenstein. And liposuction? She was already a VERY petite girl with what most people would consider a "perfect" body. I don't even think she had any extra fat to have sucked out! It's ridiculous that she got lipo in 4 places. What else...well, she got her boobs done AGAIN, taking her up to a DDD cup. Like I just said, she is a petite girl! Triple D implants on a super-skinny girl are not...shall we say...classy. And she looks like she'll topple over at any second because of the beach balls on her chest! What's more, she says that she wants to go bigger in the future. I have nothing to say to that.

Here's a quick before/after shot of her face. The first photo is from when she was 19 and had absolutely no plastic surgery and the second photo is her current look:
(you can read the entire nauseating People Magazine interview and see more photos here)

She was a cute girl before! Very cute. She looked a little bit young, but she was 19. That's expected. Now, she looks like she's 45 and trying to look 19. If I saw her in real life, I would probably think she was the same age as my mom, because who on earth gets that much done to their face so early in life? She has been quoted as saying that she now feels very "plastic" and she definitely hit the nail on the head, because that's exactly how she looks, too.

She claims that she wants to look like Barbie, that she has to constantly better herself with surgery because she wants to be successful in the music business, and that she wants to look sexy and have people fixate on her body. BUT, all the while, she preaches that beauty is on the inside and that young girls should find it within themselves. Can someone say "hypocrisy?"

All I have to say is, "perfect" is not perfect. Nobody wants to date a piece of plastic. I am absolutely not saying that plastic surgery as a whole is wrong and people who have it are ugly, but I am saying that getting more and more and more to fix each minute detail is probably just going to make you look worse and worse every time. Look at Mikey Rourke and Janice Dickinson! Nowadays, flaws are underrated and I think we need to start embracing them again. Otherwise, the world will just be filled with Ken and Barbies whose faces don't move when they smile and whose boobs start leaking if you squeeze 'em too hard.

Here's to being imperfect!

Things to do before I die...

2010-01-24T12:06:00.000-08:00

The whole "bucket list" topic has been coming up a lot lately. MTV had a new show called "The Buried Life," where a bunch of guys go around trying to check things off their bucket list. Then, recently, Cathy over at Antsy Pants posted her bucket list.

I started my bucket list a few years ago in college and right now it's too long to list, but I thought I would go through all of the ones I have actually checked off (or the interesting ones, at least)! Here's what I have done so far:

#13: Eat bugs and/or really weird stuff.
Very eloquently written, I know. I don't know why I actually WANTED to do this, but I thought it would be a fun adventure. I added this to my list right around Christmas, and actually asked the old boyfriend if he would get me some edible bugs for Christmas. And Christmas morning, what is in my stocking but chocolate-covered ants and toasted crickets! Mmmm. The ants were DISGUSTING- even with the chocolate- they tasted really smoky. And the crickets tasted fine, but there was nothing covering them, so I was faced with each and every leg and eyeball and wing. They were...crunchy. I also ate chicken feet in a Chinese restaurant in NYC last summer and they were SOOOO GOOD!

#33: Smoke weed in Amsterdam.
I didn't actually smoke it, because I'm not good at smoking things, but I bought a medium-to-high strength piece of pot bread and munched it down. Two hours later, when I was at a Mexican restaurant, I looked down and couldn't figure out whose hands were cutting up my food. They were mine. That was when I realized it had kicked in...

#37: Eat a deep-fried Mars bar.
Now, I lived in Scotland for 4 years and the one thing about Scottish people is that they ADORE fried food. Deep-fried sausages, pizza, Cadbury eggs...these are things they eat on a regular basis. A deep-fried Mars bar was a treat that I had never tried (mainly because I wanted to live for a few more years), but finally decided to give in. Shockingly, it was absolutely amazing- think melted chocolate bar with a crispy outer layer. Will I ever have one again? NO WAY. I value my heart too much.

#40: Do the May Dip.
One tradition in St. Andrews, Scotland is that at dawn on May 1st, all the students from St. Andrews University flock to the beach (completely drunk) and jump into the North Sea as the sun comes up. I could never get myself to do it until my final year there, and still amost chickened out. Scotland is COLD and the North Sea is frigid, so it was hard to make myself do it. But copious amounts of booze helped with that and soon I found myself throwing on a bikini and plunging myself into the sea. After that, I went home, dripping with saltwater, went to sleep, and skipped class, claiming that I was ill.

Evidence:

#54: Ride an ATV.
The less said about this the better. I went on a "beginner's course" which involved crazy slanted roads, hills, jumps, and other tricks that no beginner should be doing. I flipped my ATV. Well, I make it fall on its side. Everyone else had to stop and watch as an instructor came and picked me and my ATV off the ground. Embarrassing.

#65: Eat a Chicago-style hot dog.
I was born and raised in the Chicago suburbs, and until last year, I had not eaten a Chicago-style hot dog. Finally had one last summer and was not too impressed. Plain hot dogs all the way! I want my hot dog to taste like a hot dog, not a salad.

I have tons and tons more things to do before I die, so I better get on it. I'll keep y'all updated!

Childhood Crushes

2010-01-19T22:30:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid, I guess I was a little bit...odd. I had some weird crushes, and I mean WEIRD crushes. I suppose as a three-year-old you don't really have a well-established taste in men, but some of these are a little bit wacko. Here goes:

1. Mr. Clean

OK, so I can KIND OF see how this crush makes sense. He's a buff guy, the earring makes him kind of edgy (or gay, depending on what you believe about single earrings in someone's left ear), and he'll scrub your toilet faster than you can say "shit stains." But the white eyebrows? The bald head? The egotistical grin? I don't know...

2. Joey from "Full House"

So he used to make me laugh! Is that so wrong?? Everybody wants a guy with a sense of humor...and a guy that may or may not be able to do a kick-ass impression of Popeye. I'm defending this one. He may be geeky and physically not-so-hot, but goshdarnit, he'd be fun date!

3. Luigi

He was the underrated Mario Brother. The taller, thinner, dare I say handsomer brother. OK, no. I'm not even going to pretend that I understand this crush. He's not real, he's pixelated, he's a plumber, and he has no sense of style. White and green overalls? Please.

4. Chip

Alright, this is when I get a little concerned. Not only is he a cartoon, but he's an ANIMAL. I think I just thought he was cute, as chipmunks are, but as a kid you can't distinguish between thinking something is cute and being in love with it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was the "handsome" chipmunk, as compared to Dale, the goofy-lookin' one. I remember I especially liked him in his "Rescue Rangers" bomber jacket.

So there you go. Feel free to analyze my childhood based on these crushes and let me know if you think I'm going to be a serial killer or something- it'd be nice to know in advance.

Anyone else have ridiculous childhood crushes? PLEASE tell me I'm not the only one...

The End of the European Adventures

2010-01-17T21:55:00.000-08:00

It was finally time to leave Disneyland Paris (sigh) and BS and I just couldn't bear to do it. We were scheduled to take a train to Barcelona that day, but not til later. So what did we do to pass the time? Drink. We headed to the Downtown Disney area where they have a couple of bars, ordered beer upon beer, sat in the sun, and soaked up what what was surely to be the last fun experience of the trip. After all, Rome sucked and Paris blew, so Barcelona was bound to be a sucking, blowing, hideous nightmare of a town. So we drank. And we drank some more. And some more.

Finally, we stumbled over to the Metro that we had to take to get to the train station. Somehow, we ended up getting on the wrong one, getting off at some bizarro stop, and wandering in a semi-drunken state around some small town for about an hour and a half. The booze, plus the heat, plus our 60 pound backpacks, plus passing the same buildings like 5 times because we were going in circles almost made me lose my mind and I think I ended up angrily forcing my sister to go into an art shop and ask where the train station was (I speak NO French, and she took it in high school, so she was the designated speaker in that country.) We eventually made it onto the train to Barcelona, and we were off.

Now, I would like to say that Barcelona brought us all sorts of horrific adventures that would make for a fabulous end to this story, but the fact is...Barcelona was amazing! I can't think of a single thing that went wrong. Yeah, I know...pretty anti-climactic...I probably should have thought of that before I started writing this story... Anyways, here is the rundown of our Barcelonan(?) events:

-Checked into awesome hostel with our own private balcony!
-Went to a creepy wax museum where we were the only (real) people and I seriously thought the wax people were going to come to life and kills us
-Ate at the same restaurant, twice/day, every day
-Received a note from random Italian guys in our hostel that read "To mi amor. Love, Italian boys." Attached was a plastic rose.
-Took one of those tourist buses around the city and had to avert our eyes away from these two people practically having sex on the bus...honeymoon, perhaps?
-Saw Mark Knopfler in concert and laughed at the Spanish people chanting "NOAP-FLAIR!"

When our time in Spain was up, we flew back to Scotland and that was that. So basically, there was a happy ending to our story. And, hey, at least we have some fun stories to tell now.

Now, back to normal blogging- stick around, folks!

European Adventures: A Nightmarish Travel Story (Part 5)

2010-01-14T09:23:00.001-08:00

So we were in Paris now. BS and I took a taxi to our hostel which was called -no joke- Hostel Peace and Love. So, needless to say, we were expecting a pretty peaceful and loving time there. Not so. We go up to the counter, give the lady our names, and an apologetic look crosses her face as she flips through the reservation book.

"I'm so sorry, but we don't have a reservation for you. But there is something we can do- it's our cheapest option- you can stay on a mattress on the floor of someone's room- it's only 10 Euros each!"

Now, at this point, nothing surprised us. Even though we had made our reservation months in advance, paid a deposit, and had our receipt with us. We were beyond the point of arguing.

"We'll take a look at the room and let you know."

So we head up 5 flights of the narrowest, steepest stairs I have ever seen, and find ourselves in a TINY, TINY room. There were bunkbeds against one wall, and there was barely enough room on the floor for them to shove one single bed mattress on the floor. Apparently, my sister and I were supposed to share the miniscule mattress. Just then, two twenty-something guys stumble through the door with wine bottles in hand, taking occasional swigs. They managed to slur:

"Hey! Roomies! Awesome! We'd offer you some wine, but we don't have any glasses- we're just drinking out of the bottle..."

I don't know what BS was thinking, but being molested in the middle of the night by drunken 22-year-olds was kinda what was crossing my mind. We took one look at each other, and BS and I were out of there so fast that those guys probably forgot we ever came.

We managed to get a room at a nearby establishment- I guess you'd say hotel, but crappier. They never changed our sheets, a homeless man lived outside and grabbed my sister's leg, and the elevator could barely fit the two of us in it. It was like an oversized dumbwaiter. Not fun.

The only thing we ended up doing in Paris was seeing the Eiffel Tower. We took the stairs to save a few bucks. Yes, we took the stairs. Up the Eiffel Tower. I don't think we could walk again for days.

By this point, our trip was going so poorly that we decided we needed to do something drastic. We needed some magic to turn this trip around. We needed...DISNEY. So we hopped on a train to Disneyland Paris, checked ourselves into a nice, luxurious, Disney hotel, and we were on our way to happiness.

Was everything happy in Disney? Of course it was! Hot showers+hair dryers+comfy beds+ rides+Mickey Mouse= my personal heaven. I can't remember if we spent one or two days there, but it was bliss.

One day in the parks, however, BS and I decided that we were in need of a giant pretzel. Desperate need. The kind of craving that cannot be ignored and cannot be satisfied by anything else. So we went around the entire Magic Kingdom determined to find giant pretzels. We tried asking all the (French) cast members where we could find pretzels, but they didn't understand what we were saying. We had no idea what the French word for "pretzel" was, and no matter how many people we spoke to, they looked at us like we were crazy. After an entire day of searching for giant pretzels, we decided to go to this German restaurant called King Ludwig's (or something like that) for dinner. And what was on the menu, but giant pretzels! That is when we made this discovery:

The French word for "pretzel" is "bretzel."

We were one letter off! One fucking letter. Why couldn't anyone understand us? We had even been air-tracing the shape of pretzels, but to no avail! If some foreigner came up to me and asked me for a "fapple" or a "porange," I think I would pretty quickly realize that they wanted a piece of fucking fruit. I don't know if they genuinely didn't understand us or if they were just be snobby French people. I'm guessing the latter.

Anyways, we ate our giant pretzels for dinner, and all was (temporarily) right with the world.

(to be continued...there's only one more story, I promise!)

European Adventures: A Nightmarish Travel Story (Part 4)

2010-01-10T14:48:00.001-08:00

So, as you would imagine, BS's and my stay at the Trailer Park Hostel of Doom was not too thrilling. Because we ended up being stuck in Scotland for a few days at the start of the trip, we were only left with about 2 days in Rome. Here's what we managed to fit into our 2 days:

-Ate pizza.
-Saw the Colloseum (from the outside). Didn't go in for some strange reason.
-Walked around the Roman forum.
-Got stared at for about 45 minutes straight by some creepy guy on the subway.
-Tried to find the Trevi fountain. Got lost, so we found another, smaller, fountain and took pictures by it, pretending it was the real thing.
-Got whistled at, had kiss noises made at us, got called "blondie," etc. Italians are not shy about that kind of thing.
-Hung out with John, a 23ish-year-old traveler/philosopher/writer/weirdo who insisted that he, BS, and I take "sexy photos" together. By "sexy photos," he meant us, fully clothed, doing ridiculous poses. Not sexy. When we finally parted ways, he told us that he would tell us the secret to success or happiness or something like that, handed us a folded piece of paper, and left. Scribbled on the paper were the words "NO EGO." He was an interesting character.

So basically, those were the only things of interest that happened while we were in Italy. All in all, Rome was a bust. Thank God we had Paris next on the list!

The next day we found ourselves on an overnight train from Rome to Paris. My sister and I had bought tickets for a "sleeper" room, which ended up being a little different than we had expected. It was a tiny compartment on the train with two bench seats facing each other and four tiny "beds" that folded down from the walls. Yes, four beds. We soon found out that we had two (male) roommates, I think in their mid-20s, who spoke a completely unrecognizable language. Needless to say, the many, many hours of "awake time" we spent together was incredibly awkward. Four people sharing a room and not speaking to each other. When BS and I decided it was bed-time, we kind of had to just motion to the guys that we were folding our beds down and going to sleep.

That night, around 2AM, the train slowly came to a halt. But that's not what woke BS and I up. A few minutes after 2:00, we were jerked out of our sleep by the loudest banging on our compartment door. All of a sudden, two conductor guys burst through our door and literally grabbed our two roommates BY THE NECKS. They started shouting at them and said something like "NO PASSPORT!" They then proceeded to violently drag the two guys out of our compartment and slam the door behind them. Then, to add that extra touch of creepiness, one of the conductors sticks his head back in through the door, whispers "good night, girls," and slams the door back shut. What. The. Fuck.

The next morning, my sister and I tried to piece together what happened. We assumed that the reason we stopped was because were at the Italy-France border, which means they must have thrown those two guys out into the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. The thing is, they took our passports the minute we got on that train, so they already KNEW that the guys didn't have any. Why they waited to get to the border to manhandle them and toss them off the train like criminals, I'll never know.

Anyways, I guess that was the Italian authorities' way of saying "WELCOME TO FRANCE!"

(to be continued...)

European Adventures: A Nightmarish Travel Story (Part 3)

2010-01-07T09:25:00.000-08:00

...After a short and uneventful flight, we arrived in Pisa. Now, to get to Rome. We found out that we'd have to take a 5 HOUR train ride to get there and we somehow managed to buy 2 tickets with the 2 words of Italian that we knew.

I don't remember very much about the train ride, except that we saw exactly the same thing out the window for 5 hours, it was not pretty, and I got yelled at for putting my feet on the seat in front of me (at least that's what I think he was yelling; I don't speak crazy Italian!)

Finally, we pulled into the train station in Rome. But how to get to our hostel?? Where was our hostel anyways? We looked around for a taxi, but there didn't appear to be any. We must have looked like big ol' tourists, because some old guy with a "taxi" (aka an unmarked car with no meter) came up to us and said "taxi?" We were morons, clearly didn't care that he could blatantly kidnap us, and we jumped right in! We showed him a piece of paper with the address of our hostel on it and he says "sessanta." According to my Top Ten Guide to Rome, that meant 60 (Euros). For all of you non-European travelers, that's about 90 bucks. Did we care? We had been through enough shit already. Just take us there.

About 45 minutes later, we see the hostel...and we speed right past it.

"Uh...hostel- there. Stop. Per favore?"

The guy keeps going. He says something like "gasolina," drives to the nearest gas station, fills up, then turns around and heads back in the direction of the hostel. We kind of yell and point this time so he sees it and he stops. We get out. "Settanta." He says. Apparently, for some reason our price has gone up from 60 to 70 Euros. Presumably because he got gas and it's our responsibility to pay for it. Whatever. We just want to get into our cosy beds in our lovely hostel. We pay him and start walking down the dirt path toward the hostel.

Now, when we picked this hostel online, it had pictures of all these bright, clean private rooms, a turquoise blue pool that young, laughing, pretty people were sitting around, and a fabulous restaurant. As we walked towards our amazing hostel, we realized in horror that it was actually...a trailer park.

Now, I am prone to exaggeration in life. When it's hot out, I'll say it's 300 degrees and I'm going to die of exhaustion and dehydration. When there's a tiny spider on the ceiling, i'll say it's a gigantic tarantula that wants to eat my face. When I say that this place was a trailer park, I am not exaggerating in any way. These trailers were not even normal, stable, on-the-ground, home-like trailers. These were the kind of trailers on wheels that are pulled by cars. And you didn't even get a whole one to yourself. A paper-thin wall split the trailers into two parts so if you sneezed, the person on the other side would say "bless you." Every time you rolled over in bed, walked the three feet from one side of the trailer to the other, or breathed heavily, the trailer would rock violently. At least we had our own toilet and shower (with freezing water...) Oh, and the pool- that gorgeous pool filled with gorgeous people- not only was the water black, but there was a huge fence around it and it was chained shut.

Oh goody. This was going to be fun.

(to be continued, of course...)

European Adventures: A Nightmarish Travel Story (Part 2)

2010-01-06T13:56:00.000-08:00

SO to start from where I left off, I was heading back to the dorms to pick up the passport that I had so idiotically left behind.

After taking the (what seemed like) 15 forms of transportation that I needed to get back, I finally got there. Now, like I said before, the dorms are locked for the entirety of spring break, so the only option I had was to ring the buzzer on the door and hope someone answered. After 3 buzzes, no reply, and a state of panic setting in, this old guy answered the door. After explaining my story in great detail and probably acting like my life was about to end, he let me in, I showed him about 3 forms of ID, and he let me go up and get my passport. Ah. Relief.

Three and a half hours later, I was back at the airport, getting into a taxi to meet BS at the B&B. The taxi driver, of course, had never heard of the place and I only had an approximate address, so we just kind of started driving. We went through all these winding country roads and eventually were stopped dead in our tracks by a middle-aged dude on an ATV blocking the road, who motioned to us to follow him. This guy turned out to be the owner of the B&B. So I finally got there, settled in, and learned from my sister that even though she had been trying to sleep all day, the owner and his wife had been calling her name every 5 minutes, asking if she wanted tea and biscuits. Apparently, they had just opened the B&B, we were their first guests, and they were ever-so-eager to wait on us.

It was a gorgeous place, though. It was this old farmhouse with the fluffiest, comfiest beds ever and sheep right outside our window. We passed out pretty quickly and were awoken the next morning by the owner and his wife shouting up at us,

"Girls! Happy Easter! Come downstairs for a champagne breakfast!"

After getting ready, we headed downstairs only to be met with 10 or 12 smiling faces. We found ourselved in the middle of their annual Easter party. However, they didn't introduce us as guests at the B&B; people just thought we were long-lost relatives or something and kept asking us, "How do you know Cindy and Gavin?" (or whatever the hell their names were) Awkward.

Soon, we were back on a taxi to the airport. When we got there, we were told that there were no stand-by seats available and there were no regular seats available for the next day, either. BUT they had seats on a flight to Pisa the next day. BS and I turn to each other and are like "uh, where the hell is Pisa in relation to Rome?" We found a map and Pisa and Rome were only like a few centimeters away from each other, so it couldn't be THAT far. So we bought the tickets, found a different (crappier) B&B for the night, watched some show about bears climbing trees, fell asleep, got a taxi back to the airport the next morning, and FINALLY we were on our way.

We were on a plane to Pisa. How we were going to get to Rome was beside the point. We were headed to Pisa.

(to be continued, yet again)

European Adventures: A Nightmarish Travel Story (Pt. 1)

2010-01-05T08:56:00.000-08:00

So it was spring break and I was in my first year of college. Because I was attending college in Scotland, my sister (I'll call her BS for Big Sis) and I decided that we should go on a European adventure. We arbitrarily picked Rome, Paris, and Barcelona- probably because I was in charge and those were the only cities in those countries I could think of. BS had never been around Europe before and the only time I had was just around the UK with a guided group. Needless to say, neither of us had any idea what to do, what to pack, how to find good places to stay...but we were not worried in the least.

So my sister arrived the day before we were supposed to leave. She had one of the hugest backpacks I have ever seen- one of those ones that is so long that it actually sticks up over your head. I had a normal-sized one that just weighed like 80 pounds because of all the stuff I shoved into it. Anyways, we seemed ready. After a lot of sleep, the next day we began the grueling process of traveling from the small college town to the airport. This fun little trip takes approximately 3 and half hours and involves one bus, two trains, and one taxi. Just throw in a canoe and we'd have every form of transportation covered in one go.

As much as the journey sucks, everything was going fine. Then we get onto train #2, I believe, about 2 and a half hours into the trip and suddenly I feel an overwhelming sense of panic and dread. I turn to my boyfriend at the time who was traveling to the airport with us and I say:

"I don't need a passport, do I?"

For some reason I had gotten it into my head that, like America, Europe was all one big place, just divided up. So, of course, I wouldn't need a passport.

Old boyfriend turned to me, looked at me like I was crazy, and replied "Um, yeah."

Now we had an issue. A BIG issue. Our flight was in 2 hours, but for me to travel to the dorms and back, it would take approximately 5+ hours. Also, the dorms get locked over spring break- nobody is allowed to stay in them and you can't go in for any reason. I think I started to cry...or at least well up a little.

When we arrived at the airport, we tried to come up with a game plan. Old boyfriend's sister was still in our college town, so we decided we'd try to get her to pick up the passport and then have a courier take it to us (by car, the journey to the airport was only about an hour and 45 minutes). She was nice enough to drive over to the dorm and knock until a security guard answered. She explained the situation to him, but he absolutely would not let her in. Because it wasn't her passport, there was nothing she could do to get him to let her leave with it. I even talked to the security guard over the phone to somehow prove that I was me and it was OK, but to no avail.

I was going to have to go back to the dorms and pick it up myself. There was no way that we would make our flight, so we asked if there were any available seats the next day. The problem was, it was Easter weekend, we were headed to Rome, and the Pope was dying. EVERYBODY AND THEIR COUSIN was headed to Rome. There were no seats at all. So we put ourselves on stand-by for the next day, booked a room at a nearby B&B, sent BS over there in a taxi, and I headed back to the two trains, one bus, and one taxi to fetch my passport.

(To be continued...and, believe me, this is only the beginning!)

Um...hi?

2010-01-03T13:50:00.000-08:00

So how on earth do you start a blog?? Seems a little awkward...like a first date. I don't really think anybody really cares about how old I am or what I do or where I live. Let's skip to the second date, where we get a little bit too drunk and argue about our favorite things. Here are some of mine:

Top 3 Movies:
1.Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom- Whoever says that this is the worst movie of the trilogy is sadly mistaken...and I will beat their ass. Evidence: a slowly closing spike room, a mine car chase, bugs crawling on people, hearts being ripped out of bodies, a crazy Busby Berkeley-esque musical number, Mola Ram's crazy ram horn hat, and, of course, Short Round. "I very little! You cheat very big!"
2. Back to the Future- Anything remotely related to Huey Lewis is pretty much my favorite thing ever. Same goes for Christopher Lloyd. One day I plan to own a Delorean and drive around with my windows down, blasting ridiculous 80s rock.
3. Adventures is Babysitting- Yes, I know every word to the "Babysitting Blues" song and I even know where that scene was filmed. And, c'mon- best lines ever: "Don't fuck with the lords of hell!" "Don't fuck with the babysitter!"

Top 3 Places in the World:
1. Disney World- I realize that I'm not 6 years old. I realize that I am not married with a family. But there's no other place in the world where I feel happier or more at home. So lay off!
2. St. Andrews, Scotland- Lived there for 4 years. It rained almost every day. Everything closed at 5pm. There was absolutely nothing to do. Pretty much no public transportation to get anywhere. Everything cost twice as much as it would in the US. The town was so small you ran into the same people everywhere you went. I loved every minute of it.
3. Cairo, Egypt- OK, it totally isn't my third favorite place in the world, but I just like telling people I've been there. Makes me feel important.

Top 3 Favorite Foods.
1. Bagels- soft, round, holey. These are the three characteristics I look for in almost every aspect of life.
2. Giant Pretzels- see above.
3. Sushi- If I could, I would pull live fish out of the sea, slap them on rice, and eat them. 3 times a day, every day.

So basically, that's me. I'm a simple gal, really. Just give me bagels and booby traps and I'm set.

Well, I had a really great time with you. Maybe we could go on another date soon? I might just tell you about the time I wrestled with a king cobra in Morocco...yeah, no, that didn't really happen.