Mardi Gras Time!!
I will be on hiatus for the next week. Good juicy stories to come!
Until then...
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Sunday, February 19, 2006
This is Random Bitch...
It's that time of year again. Mardi Gras time! My 4th one and I'm rip roaring ready to go. I haven't had a day off of work in a long time and more importantly...I haven't been out of Fayette County in a while. Being that I'm used to traveling out of state at least once a month, not even getting to Pittsburgh on a regular basis has taken it's toll on me. Coaching has had me tied up. I feel like a CityMouse stuck in a CountryMouse life. What better place for a girl to go than NOLA?
I've been kinda bummed this weekend. I think relationships (or lack there of) has taken toll on me as well. Now before you comment "don't worry...it will come," or "it's always when you're not looking for it," hold off. I don't really want to hear those. No single girl does. In fact....now that I read this, I'm thinking of changing the tone of my blog lately. It might be bitchy single girl...rather Bridget Jones-esque.
It's been 4 years that I've been single. F-O-U-R years. That's ridiculous. I've had a few dates (and I say few loosely.) There's times where I really want to head full-force back into dating, but then I actually get a little scared. I think if there was someone totally interested, I might be ready....but that's the biggest fucking problem. The dating pool here is full of polio and I don't see any sign of a vaccine in the works. Yes, I'd like to move, but that presents another problem. Job. I can't move without a job and I haven't been able to find a new job. Then some fucking cornhusker wins the Powerball. What kind of fairness is that?
What's good in my life right now, you ask? I've lost 20 pounds. (1/3 to my goal for the dreaded 3-0!) I don't mind my job this year. Thank the Lord or I might have pull my fingernails out. Speaking of...my little treat to myself: nails. Don't worry. It's not like B.A.P.S. They're tasteful. Gel coats over my real nails (which are actually long.) I was tired of having them break or the polish chip off in a day. They look nice and aren't too hard on the keyboard either.
I've been kinda bummed this weekend. I think relationships (or lack there of) has taken toll on me as well. Now before you comment "don't worry...it will come," or "it's always when you're not looking for it," hold off. I don't really want to hear those. No single girl does. In fact....now that I read this, I'm thinking of changing the tone of my blog lately. It might be bitchy single girl...rather Bridget Jones-esque.
It's been 4 years that I've been single. F-O-U-R years. That's ridiculous. I've had a few dates (and I say few loosely.) There's times where I really want to head full-force back into dating, but then I actually get a little scared. I think if there was someone totally interested, I might be ready....but that's the biggest fucking problem. The dating pool here is full of polio and I don't see any sign of a vaccine in the works. Yes, I'd like to move, but that presents another problem. Job. I can't move without a job and I haven't been able to find a new job. Then some fucking cornhusker wins the Powerball. What kind of fairness is that?
What's good in my life right now, you ask? I've lost 20 pounds. (1/3 to my goal for the dreaded 3-0!) I don't mind my job this year. Thank the Lord or I might have pull my fingernails out. Speaking of...my little treat to myself: nails. Don't worry. It's not like B.A.P.S. They're tasteful. Gel coats over my real nails (which are actually long.) I was tired of having them break or the polish chip off in a day. They look nice and aren't too hard on the keyboard either.
Monday, February 13, 2006
The Eve...
The Eve. The Eve of the Day. Valentine's Day.
I don't like when Valentine's Day falls during the week. Totally cramps my SATC marathon and wine and cheese binge. I really thought this year I might have a Valentine. The night is still young and the Day is long. I guess I am a hopeless romantic.
Looking back on Valentine's Day gifts....I received some good gifts, but honestly?? Mostly a lot of bad.
Good Gifts:
Bobby Brown: My Perrogative (cassette)
Annonymous carnation delivered in high school
Apartment cleaning and dinner made
Stuffed animal and flower
Rose and cookie cake (remember those?)
Bad Gifts:
No card (this one can repeat many a times...is it that hard fellas???)
FarSide book (still in the bag)
I got to pay for dinner...wasn't that nice?
Shitty box of chocolates
No card
Forgot
I never asked for anything for Valentine's Day....well early on...then I just flat out told two of the guys I was dating, "I don't give a f**k what you get me. However, if you don't get me a simple card, I'll lose my shit."
And what happened after that? I swear to you more than once, I didn't get a card. Bastards. Meanwhile I would have settled --actually been quite pleased-- with a PostIt stuck to the kitchen counter.
What will this Valentine's Day bring? A vet appointment with my dog. That's the only date I have. However...the hopeless, I repeat, HOPELESS romantic in me still thinks my knight in shining armor will show up with something. Who's the knight, you ask? As soon as you find him let me know, too.
Anyone---any good or bad gifts? Add them to the comments.
I don't like when Valentine's Day falls during the week. Totally cramps my SATC marathon and wine and cheese binge. I really thought this year I might have a Valentine. The night is still young and the Day is long. I guess I am a hopeless romantic.
Looking back on Valentine's Day gifts....I received some good gifts, but honestly?? Mostly a lot of bad.
Good Gifts:
Bobby Brown: My Perrogative (cassette)
Annonymous carnation delivered in high school
Apartment cleaning and dinner made
Stuffed animal and flower
Rose and cookie cake (remember those?)
Bad Gifts:
No card (this one can repeat many a times...is it that hard fellas???)
FarSide book (still in the bag)
I got to pay for dinner...wasn't that nice?
Shitty box of chocolates
No card
Forgot
I never asked for anything for Valentine's Day....well early on...then I just flat out told two of the guys I was dating, "I don't give a f**k what you get me. However, if you don't get me a simple card, I'll lose my shit."
And what happened after that? I swear to you more than once, I didn't get a card. Bastards. Meanwhile I would have settled --actually been quite pleased-- with a PostIt stuck to the kitchen counter.
What will this Valentine's Day bring? A vet appointment with my dog. That's the only date I have. However...the hopeless, I repeat, HOPELESS romantic in me still thinks my knight in shining armor will show up with something. Who's the knight, you ask? As soon as you find him let me know, too.
Anyone---any good or bad gifts? Add them to the comments.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Valentine's Day Turd. Updated Version
I'm not sure where the original story is, but here is the "new" version of the infamous Valentine's Day Turd. Hope memory serves me right.
Picture it. February 14, 1998. Four lonely girls. One Red House.
"I hate Valentine's Day. I'm banning it this year."
"Me too. I'm sick of people oogling each other, getting flowers, cards and candy and not have my own boy to schmooze."
"Yeah. I wish I was getting shit for Valentine's Day!"
"Let's throw a Wine and Cheese party??!"
"Yeah. With paper hearts and we'll all wear black."
"Awesome!"
So the four ladies in waiting start preparing the infamous Red House for one of our huge parties. Last huge party was homecoming and well, a sliced finger, cops and landlord arriving: it got a liiiitlllle out of hand. We thought we'd keep it low only inviting singles and rules were that you must bring wine, you must wear black. Easy enough.
With three of us being elementary education majors, construction paper was always on hand. We began cutting out our hearts (no pun intended) of pink and red and hanging them from the ceiling. 10 turned to 20, 30 turned to 80 and by the end of it there must have been at least 300 in our modest, crooked apartment on Waugh Avenue. All hanging from the finest of OralB dental floss, the hearts transformed the dismal dump to a romantic heaven. Hearts in every room and swaying as the sliding glass door was opening and shutting all so often.
The word was out and by 7:00 PM the ladies had begun their night. All dolled up with our uniforms of black shirts, jeans and black boots, our smokey eye-shadowed eyes were glistening with a few glasses of wine already slung down. No one was going to ruin our night. Man or not, we were going to rock it.
The part was a hit. People were everywhere. People we knew, people we didn't. The quaint get together had blossomed to an awesome low-key blowout. No cops, no landlord, no drama. Excellent party! We all headed to bed at different times...not even sure when. The Black Valentine's Day party was over.
Until the next day.
By the time we all were up, greasy-breakfasted, napped and up again the usual trail of people started arriving. The Red House was a haven for WC. The gathering ground for post-party gossip, break-up tragedy and everyday drama. If you wanted to know something, get to the Red House. If the four of us didn't know, someone soon to arrive would. As the misfits started to pour in few comments came with them.
"damn. Look at the ashtrays on the porch."
"There are still wine bottles in the tub."
"Did you know there's a pair of shitty boxers next to your dumpster?"
Whah, whah, whah, what?????
"Yeah. I walked down from Hillside through Overflow and there's a pair of boxers laying next to your dumpster and I think someone wiped there ass with them."
(Bouts of laughter)
So we all jump up and go out the back door to inspect the evidence. Where the hell would those come from? Who do they belong to? Who went home without underwear? We all headed back into the house. Sitting on the couches trying to decipher the night the questions arose.
"I just don't get it. Why would someone leave their boxers back there?"
"Um, hello. Why didn't they just use our bathroom?"
"Why don't we go look outside again?"
So we all trudge outside again. This time noticing "other evidence." Enter...toilet paper.
"Holy shit! Look! There's toilet paper over there!"
A few pieces (looked like a buncher not a roller had left them) were in a line. Kinda like when Bobby and Cindy got lost in the Grand Canyon and left the popcorn train with the little Indian boy?? So we followed the trail. A metal glass. Looks a lot like the ones we have in our kitchen. It is one of the ones we have in our kitchen! And, it's still half full of wine! It's next to the couch. (Yes. We had a couch in the back yard. Wasn't ours. It belonged to the guys who used to live in our house and our landlord had yet to get rid of it. We were in college, okay?)
Picture the line...shitty boxers, bunched up toilet paper, metal glass half full of wine...and wait. What the...?? Oh. My. God. There's a turd on the couch. A big huge log. "It's lo-og, it's lo-og."
Who the...? What the...? Why...?
"Who the hell would A: Pinch a loaf on a couch, and B: Clearly leave without their boxers?"
After questioning most of the AlphaSig boys next door and clearly knowing it wasn't them, we started to wonder. This went on most of the night while watching SouthPark and random movies. Every 15 minutes or so a reference to the clues would come up and still a mystery. After many ramblings it all started to come together.
"Wait a minute. Nicki and I were in the bathroom last night and some asshole kept knocking on the door. I told him wait a minute! He was totally being a jerk. I yelled back at him and then said the hell with it. When we came out, no one was there."
"Wait. I remember the back door being open and I thought it was strange, but just assumed someone went outside to smoke a cigarette."
"Wait. Who would go out the back door to smoke when everyone always goes out the front."
"Terri had some friends here from highschool. Maybe they did. They had never been here before."
"That's who was yelling at the door. I heard someone yelling to get in the bathroom and I peeked in and didn't know who the hell it was. When I looked back in, he was gone."
"Wait. I wondered who opened the backdoor and left it open."
Ohhhhhh. I bet...
I bet...
I bet...
Moral of the story...
Be careful what you wish for. You might just get shit for Valentine's Day.
Picture it. February 14, 1998. Four lonely girls. One Red House.
"I hate Valentine's Day. I'm banning it this year."
"Me too. I'm sick of people oogling each other, getting flowers, cards and candy and not have my own boy to schmooze."
"Yeah. I wish I was getting shit for Valentine's Day!"
"Let's throw a Wine and Cheese party??!"
"Yeah. With paper hearts and we'll all wear black."
"Awesome!"
So the four ladies in waiting start preparing the infamous Red House for one of our huge parties. Last huge party was homecoming and well, a sliced finger, cops and landlord arriving: it got a liiiitlllle out of hand. We thought we'd keep it low only inviting singles and rules were that you must bring wine, you must wear black. Easy enough.
With three of us being elementary education majors, construction paper was always on hand. We began cutting out our hearts (no pun intended) of pink and red and hanging them from the ceiling. 10 turned to 20, 30 turned to 80 and by the end of it there must have been at least 300 in our modest, crooked apartment on Waugh Avenue. All hanging from the finest of OralB dental floss, the hearts transformed the dismal dump to a romantic heaven. Hearts in every room and swaying as the sliding glass door was opening and shutting all so often.
The word was out and by 7:00 PM the ladies had begun their night. All dolled up with our uniforms of black shirts, jeans and black boots, our smokey eye-shadowed eyes were glistening with a few glasses of wine already slung down. No one was going to ruin our night. Man or not, we were going to rock it.
The part was a hit. People were everywhere. People we knew, people we didn't. The quaint get together had blossomed to an awesome low-key blowout. No cops, no landlord, no drama. Excellent party! We all headed to bed at different times...not even sure when. The Black Valentine's Day party was over.
Until the next day.
By the time we all were up, greasy-breakfasted, napped and up again the usual trail of people started arriving. The Red House was a haven for WC. The gathering ground for post-party gossip, break-up tragedy and everyday drama. If you wanted to know something, get to the Red House. If the four of us didn't know, someone soon to arrive would. As the misfits started to pour in few comments came with them.
"damn. Look at the ashtrays on the porch."
"There are still wine bottles in the tub."
"Did you know there's a pair of shitty boxers next to your dumpster?"
Whah, whah, whah, what?????
"Yeah. I walked down from Hillside through Overflow and there's a pair of boxers laying next to your dumpster and I think someone wiped there ass with them."
(Bouts of laughter)
So we all jump up and go out the back door to inspect the evidence. Where the hell would those come from? Who do they belong to? Who went home without underwear? We all headed back into the house. Sitting on the couches trying to decipher the night the questions arose.
"I just don't get it. Why would someone leave their boxers back there?"
"Um, hello. Why didn't they just use our bathroom?"
"Why don't we go look outside again?"
So we all trudge outside again. This time noticing "other evidence." Enter...toilet paper.
"Holy shit! Look! There's toilet paper over there!"
A few pieces (looked like a buncher not a roller had left them) were in a line. Kinda like when Bobby and Cindy got lost in the Grand Canyon and left the popcorn train with the little Indian boy?? So we followed the trail. A metal glass. Looks a lot like the ones we have in our kitchen. It is one of the ones we have in our kitchen! And, it's still half full of wine! It's next to the couch. (Yes. We had a couch in the back yard. Wasn't ours. It belonged to the guys who used to live in our house and our landlord had yet to get rid of it. We were in college, okay?)
Picture the line...shitty boxers, bunched up toilet paper, metal glass half full of wine...and wait. What the...?? Oh. My. God. There's a turd on the couch. A big huge log. "It's lo-og, it's lo-og."
Who the...? What the...? Why...?
"Who the hell would A: Pinch a loaf on a couch, and B: Clearly leave without their boxers?"
After questioning most of the AlphaSig boys next door and clearly knowing it wasn't them, we started to wonder. This went on most of the night while watching SouthPark and random movies. Every 15 minutes or so a reference to the clues would come up and still a mystery. After many ramblings it all started to come together.
"Wait a minute. Nicki and I were in the bathroom last night and some asshole kept knocking on the door. I told him wait a minute! He was totally being a jerk. I yelled back at him and then said the hell with it. When we came out, no one was there."
"Wait. I remember the back door being open and I thought it was strange, but just assumed someone went outside to smoke a cigarette."
"Wait. Who would go out the back door to smoke when everyone always goes out the front."
"Terri had some friends here from highschool. Maybe they did. They had never been here before."
"That's who was yelling at the door. I heard someone yelling to get in the bathroom and I peeked in and didn't know who the hell it was. When I looked back in, he was gone."
"Wait. I wondered who opened the backdoor and left it open."
Ohhhhhh. I bet...
I bet...
I bet...
Moral of the story...
Be careful what you wish for. You might just get shit for Valentine's Day.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Secret Valentine?
Valentine's Day is looming. Arggh! (That's my lonely pirate impression.)
Wouldn't it be great to get a secret Valentine message? Known Valentine message? Any Valentine message?
Not sure if I'll send Valentines out this year or not. I would love to have a party like the Valentine's party from senior year of college. We decorated the entire house with paper hearts -literally a few hundred. It looked pretty cool and was a lot of fun. Filled the bathtub with bottles of wine and the table with cheese. We all wore black boycotting the day. Ah, times were so simple then.
Does anyone have the Valentine's Day Turd story I wrote in college? I'm going to try to dig that one up...if not, I'll rewrite it. May take a while as I'll have to conference with Cags for some details.
Wouldn't it be great to get a secret Valentine message? Known Valentine message? Any Valentine message?
Not sure if I'll send Valentines out this year or not. I would love to have a party like the Valentine's party from senior year of college. We decorated the entire house with paper hearts -literally a few hundred. It looked pretty cool and was a lot of fun. Filled the bathtub with bottles of wine and the table with cheese. We all wore black boycotting the day. Ah, times were so simple then.
Does anyone have the Valentine's Day Turd story I wrote in college? I'm going to try to dig that one up...if not, I'll rewrite it. May take a while as I'll have to conference with Cags for some details.
Shhhhh....It's a Secret
This is a blog that I've been reading for a while. I like the idea of it. I've not sent anything in, but I have a lot that I've considered. I definitely want to buy the book.
Maybe I'll make a postcard tonight. Hmmm...
Maybe I'll make a postcard tonight. Hmmm...
The Case of the Missing Underwear
I know it's been a while since I've posted, but I don't even know where the time has gone. So, I'll post a few funny quips. Last week while talking to BrooklynJay, this transpired...
GIRL: how about this one
GIRL: when you win a swim meet the tradition is to throw the coach in the water. so i won on thursday, the kids threw me in...yada, yada. i went to the coach's office/teacher's office to change my clothes. there is a bathroom in there. i had to go home before meeting the other coaches out to get something to eat. so i get home and unpack my bag and realize that i've forgotten my underwear on the floor of the bathroom.
GIRL: i don't work in that building so i tell the other coach when he goes into work to get my underwear so the swim teacher doesn't see them.
GIRL: he went in the mornign....no underwear. we're guessing the nighttime janitor either threw them away or....
GIRL: has them.
BROOKLYNJAY: hahahahaha
BROOKLYNJAY: now why isn't this an entry????
GIRL: creepy....but really funny
GIRL: how about this one
GIRL: when you win a swim meet the tradition is to throw the coach in the water. so i won on thursday, the kids threw me in...yada, yada. i went to the coach's office/teacher's office to change my clothes. there is a bathroom in there. i had to go home before meeting the other coaches out to get something to eat. so i get home and unpack my bag and realize that i've forgotten my underwear on the floor of the bathroom.
GIRL: i don't work in that building so i tell the other coach when he goes into work to get my underwear so the swim teacher doesn't see them.
GIRL: he went in the mornign....no underwear. we're guessing the nighttime janitor either threw them away or....
GIRL: has them.
BROOKLYNJAY: hahahahaha
BROOKLYNJAY: now why isn't this an entry????
GIRL: creepy....but really funny
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