For me??

Someone wrote a song for me and PMS Man! No one called to interview me or anything! There it was, on the radio one day. That pop(tart) star Katy Perry was singin' it, and I think she captured the essence of my resentment. The song pretty much sums up the situation. The first two lines are dedicated to me, but the rest is all him.


"Hot N Cold"

You change your mind
Like a girl changes clothes
Yeah you, PMS
Like a bitch
I would know

And you always think
Always speak
Cryptically

I should know
That you're no good for me

Cause you're hot then you're cold
You're yes then you're no
You're in then you're out
You're up then you're down
You're wrong when it's right
It's black and it's white
We fight, we break up
We kiss, we make up
(you) You don't really want to stay, no
(but you) But you don't really want to go-o
You're hot then you're cold
You're yes then you're no
You're in and you're out
You're up and you're down

We used to be
Just like twins
So in sync
The same energy
Now's a dead battery
Used to laugh bout nothing
Now your plain boring

I should know that
You're not gonna change

Someone call the doctor
Got a case of a love bi-polar
Stuck on a roller coaster
Can't get off this ride

"Heeey, Bay-bee"

My cat, Gatsby, is a shameless attention whore. I often have to share my lap with the laptop and him. He'll sit on the coffee table and stare at me, sending silent messages of "pet me, bitch". He usually just crawls onto my lap, purring all sexy like, trying to get me in the mood. It's like your mate trying to get you in the mood and you are just not interested. I push him off, "Noooo, Gatsby! I don't want to snuggle!" He nudges my typing hands...I pet him...it only encourages the brat. The purring continues, the sexy eyes burn into me. He steps on my belly. With the extra padding, you'd think it wouldn't hurt as much as it can. I almost always give in. Sometimes it helps to put the "Barry White Station" on Pandora. So I give him his lovin, he purrs, and when he's satisfied, he rolls off me. He usually then strolls into the kitchen for a snack of kibble. Just like a man.

(At least he only leaves hair in that spot)

Is it just me?

I don't get most people's blogs. I try to read them, I really do. They bore me quickly. I then skim down further to see if the blogs get any better. Usually they don't. I often worry that I bore my blog followers. This one is starting to drone already, and I'm writing it!

I tried reading Queen Martha Stewart's blog. They read like a history lesson on whatever the hell she's blogging about. I imagine some slave of her's Googling info, emailing it to her, she cuts and pastes, adds her own flourish (the first and last sentences) and viola! Instant blog!

Martha gave a run down on one of her fave seafood joints and went into crabs or whatever (I quit reading when the Google regurgitation started). Oh, yeah, Martha? Well, Marcy and I had our own little seafood adventure. She tried sushi for the first time, and I didn't even tell her the orange stuff on the sushi was masago: fish eggs!! (This is a test, to see if she actually finds this blog and reads it.)

Of course I read my friend's blogs, and the food blogs are great. (Pictures to hold my interest) If only everyone could put something shiny in the paragraphs every so often, I'd be more likely to read them.

I smell funny

I just had my first real facial at a fancy pants spa. Soooo nice! I recommend it to anyone! Pay extra for a longer one, too. I'm sure it will be worth it.

My mom bought me a package deal at a facial/laser skin clinic for Christmas. We all know my skin has seen better days (pre-puberty), so I was really excited for my first appointment today. Of course my mind is over active, so the whole time I was taking notes for this damn blog. So here's the low-down on my experience:

Drug myself out of bed around 8am, groggy from soaking myself in beer and second hand smoke from last night. (Two things that are bad for the skin. But I wanted to give her more of a challenge.) Stumbled into the mod-ern suite, and practically hugged the girl when she offered me freshly brewed coffee. (Also bad for the skin, those hypocrites.) It smelled delicious in there! Aromatherapy just might catch on....Enya was playing, and the coffee was struggling to keep up. My skin care specialist came out, and gave me soft hand shake. I don't like those, but neccessary to share that tidbit. I went into a darkened room that also smelled great, and had to remove my shirt (Yes, Kelley and Marcy-I was given a towel as a cover-up) and removed my shoes. I laid back on a comfy table, but my head was lower than my legs, so the blood was going to eventually pool into my brain. She put the sheet around me to keep warm, and I internally cursed my choice in the sock with a hole in the big toe area. She started slathering on luscious creams that alternated smelled fruity, and earthy and naturual. It's possible I was getting the left over breakfast from the Country Kitchen from across the street put on my face, but I didn't care. Then she started with the shoulder and back massage. Miss Soft Handshake was such a tease in the lobby! That petite girl has some strength! She used a minty/warming lotion for that. (Tigger loves mint, and is molesting my sweatshirt as I type this.) I was trying to stay relaxed, but it seems like a natural reaction for your muscles to tense as they are being pushed by a stranger. She started kneading my neck, and it wasn't great, but I didn't want to hurt her feelings. She did massage my face, but it wasn't long enough. I could've used a sinus draining massage. Gross, I know.

I know why they do the facial before the skin analysis. You're all blissed out, and can handle seeing your pores and flaws magnified 200% much easier. She took a picture of my skin, and then went over the bumps, flaws, wrinkles, pores, damages, etc. That sucked. But it's easier for them to sell a package of 6 microderm/laser treatments for $700 when they show you the ugly truth, up close and personal. I really did pay attention to everything she said....but I was also paying attention to her face. Her pores weren't so small, even though she had just given herself a peel the day before. Her lips were full, but not too fake looking (injections, I'm sure). But her eyebrows moved, so no Botox recently. When you work in retail, you tend to buy things often. I couldn't imagine working in a spa, or plastic surgery office. I'd have no skin left from the peels, and would always look surprised from Botox and surgeries. Anyway....I only had one little wrinkle by my eye. Yay for small victories. I did want to cry when she told me all the sun damage I was seeing would eventually come to the surface. I'll stock up on the make up. I almost asked her to email me a screen shot of my analysis so I could share it with all of you, but I didn't think she'd understand my "blog research" reasoning.

I went back out to the lobby to reschedule my future appointments, AKA future blog research (wish I could write them off), and a client walked in. There I was, no make up, face red and inflamed, hair possibly gooey from yesterday's oatmeal, feeling exposed. Then another client and her fake skin doctor came out and stood behind me, and then another client, a man (!) came in. OOOhh...that was uncomfortable. I was supposed to get a complimentary "Mineral Glo Make Up Touch Up" as a part of the package, but I didn't. I would like to suggest they do that in the skin analyisis/crying room. I was going to ask for it, but I all I really wanted to do was go home and shower again. My face feels thick from the Early Bird special, and I smell like the Ben-Gay wearing patrons from the Country Kitchen.

One of my future appointments was to be either lash tinting, or trial laser hair removal. I opted for the lash tinting. I thought I'd get more out of that than a tease of hair removal. I'd just want my uni-brow zapped, anyway. I figured I'll be investing a lot in the microderm/peels over the next few months, and didn't need to get sucked into hair removal. Even though "Fun with lasers" would've been an interesting blog.

re juv skin & laser clinic 701-356-skin Tell them I sent you... or call a Cosmetology school and get a cheap facial. I know I will!

Totally Randumb

It's been a slow weekend for blog material. You can all blame Marcy. I took her for her first sushi experience, and it was completely NORMAL. She totally let me down. She didn't use chop stix, unfortunately. She did enjoy the sushi, so that was good. We were getting ready to leave, and she smiled at waived at someone behind me, and I thought she saw someone she knew. Nope. The chef was smiling and waiving excitedly at her. She's a celeb. What can I say?

Even my parents didn't give me any good material. We went out to dinner and then drinks with friends. They're usually good for some embarrassment. (The parents, not Kelley and Bobbi.) They did play pool at TGIFriday's, and the waiter was kind enough to mention it.

What I have been doing is following Twitter all weekend. I'm fascinated by it! I'm following Neil Patrick Harris, Martha Stewart, Britney Spears, and Paula Poundstone, to name a few. (It's not really stalking if they supply the info, right?) NPH was apparently hangin with Phelps. Woke up in a back alley in Shang Hai. Those crazy kids! I can't understand MC Hammer's tweets. Now I'm getting real time Oscar updates thanks to Variety Magazine. I have nine followers, thank you very much. I feel as though Hammer, and Jorge, and Yashar, and Obama and I are finally connecting and sharing on a whole new level...I never knew what I was missing until now. Yes, the president is following ME. I should tell him my ideas on how to solve the AIDS epidemic in Africa. (Whatever Bono says) Now I feel pressure to not only come up with blog material, but news to share on Twitter! Life is rough.

Enquiring Minds

I don't get it. I finally Googled Twitter, and figured out what it was. So I joined tonight. I do it all for blog research, people! I don't get it! I guess I've been "assigned" to follow MC Hammer, NY Times, and some chick named Justine, just to name a few. Just so you know, Justine is having some bittersweet feelings about eating a delicious cheeseburger, and Hammer was in a plane three hours ago, and was looking forward to "Nap Time". Whaaa?? It's like an endless stream of facebook updates. Of people I don't know! I scraped my email address book. Besides Bobbi, my peeps ain't on there. (She likes to network.)

MySpace, facebook, twitter, etc etc. Phone calls, email and texting wasn't good enough? Now we need to be adverts and publish our lives on the internet? I'm no better. I freakin blog, people. The thing is, no one cares that it's 1:40AM, I'm drinking beer, watching "The Dark Knight" and planning on eating a bowl of all natural cinnamon crunchy cereal when I feel this blog is complete.

Heath Ledger is unbelievably good in the movie, I must say.

Barbie

That bitch has everything. *sigh* And now she has a fashion show dedicated to her! 50 designers created Barbie inspired fashions for a show this Valentine's Day. (Barbie turns 50 this year.) And she's never looked sluttier. I like to think of the progression of Barbie. The originals were so wholesome. Then they got a little more sophisticated. Now they are just outrageous. But at least there are more ethnicities to chose from. And more career minded Barbies. Who says you can't look like a hussy and be a doctor? If you're going to be a feminist, you can't discriminate. I learned that from Bobbi.

I love and hate talking to women about their memories of their Barbies. It seems as though everyone had all the cool stuff, and I didn't. I always wanted the dream house. My first Barbie was Skipper. Of course my older sister got the real Barbie. They came in swimsuits and had tan lines. Cool. Then one Christmas I got the horse from Santa. The brush set came in a little plastic bag marked "Made in China". I was very confused. "This should say 'Made by Elves!'" Mary Jane just smirked. I found out the Santa truth very soon, sadly. Then there was the Corvette. Our hamsters fit in there perfectly. Got some good photos of that. It was during the height of Miami Vice. And the hair salon! Forgot about that.

I loved the make believe world of Barbies. The clothes, the glamour, playing house with Ken and the blow up furniture I bought from a White Elephant sale at school. I had a lot of homemade furniture, too. I guess having no money spurred my creativity. Yay for being broke! I liked playing with cousin Brenda's retro Barbies. She had groovy ones with groovy styles. I was amazed at the vintage-like appeal.

I used to think little girls wouldn't be influenced by Barbies. They're just toys, make believe. But the more I think about it, the more I realize playing with Barbies probably did shape my personality a little. Not that I want a Corvette, or a horse. Damn, her! She is bad!

I hope this little blog makes you think of all the fun times you had playing Barbies.

Bodice Buster

OOOhhh....I'm going to get SOOOO much crap for sharing this....but I do it all for good blog material! (At least that's what I tell Marcy. We're hanging out on Valentine's Day, so stay tuned for that blog...hehehe....)

I was cyberstalking Suburban Kamikaze's blog, and she was talking about some goofy romance novel about her and Mr. Suburban Kamikaze. So clicked on the link, and ooohh...guess what IIII fooouuund?? (that's sing-song, ok??) I, well, anyone, can make themselves a character in their own romance novel!! Which sounds cheesy at first, but then...I found Vampire Kisses! If you know me well, (or have walked past my padded cell-cubicle-at work) you know I have developed a crush on Edward Cullen. Yes, the hunky, brooding vampire from Twilight. I've only seen the movie twice, but that's because the DVD will be out in a month, and I can wait for that. But I am a part of a cult at work. I even bought someone a $10 magazine all about Twilight. (I'll take that off my HuHot tab, by the way) But I'm getting random.

So Vampire Kisses is a romance novel that I can customize with my own name, and Edward's of course, and my BFF (let the bidding start now), and even my pet!! Gatsby was so made to be a heroine in a romance novel. There are 26 characteristics to personalize it with to make it truly unique and sentimental! And I get to personalize the cover, "which will make it look stunning on a book shelf or coffee table." Or on the floor next to my bed with the other trashy bodice buster romance novels. Because as they say on the website "Why read between the lines when you can read between the sheets?" And I think I have the perfect book cover......

Dear, Joaquin

Dear, dear, Joaquin Phoenix. Let us gaze gratuitously on this smokey photo of you. There's something to be said about tall, dark and handsome. You have an edge, a mystery, and are devoted to your craft, and completely become that character. Whatever the hell that craft or character is at the moment, apparently. I think I've seen only a few of your movies. I thought you were HOT in all of them. I could be really really shallow and put all of your movies into my Netflix queue, but I won't. Instead, I will be shallow and devote a blog to how scary your appearance has become. It pains me to post this photo of you. But I, too am devoted to my craft du jour. Children, if you see this man, do not be afraid. And do not offer him money. He apparently has enough to build himself an elaborate recording studio for his new....er..career.


I KNOW! WTF?? He doesn't know if he has a look, or if he's going for a look. He just thinks of himself as "having a beard". Such a guy thing to say. "What? What's wrong with my hair? Why would I cut it? Hey, I LIKE the beard! Yeah, I found these sunglasses at a garage sale...cool, huh? (Arches back, scratches round belly) The old lady said her dead husband owned them, along with this read shirt (burp) oooh..man, nachos...sorry...anyway, she said I could have them both for like, two dollars! Sweet, huh?"

OK, I got distracted. Back to the story. If you haven't heard, he's ditching acting for good. His new focus is rapping. He's always loved rap and music. He loves the story telling aspect of rap, the rhyming, and the raw emotion of it. Yeah, but.....you think rap, and you see Tupac (hot!) or Eminem. I'm all confused! He did a little show in Vegas. He fell off the stage at the end. I guess you couldn't really hear him at first, but the little you could hear, he wasn't that bad? What is he going to rap about?? I'm taking this way to hard. It's because I was in love with River Phoenix when I was young. And now we're losing Joaquin! Well, we're not losing an actor, we're gaining a rapper. I'll leave you with a photo of the man underneath the Rick Rubin wanna be look.

Women love jerks

Bobbi and I went to see the movie "He's Just Not That Into You" today. Saw the matinee cuz we're econo-wise. Six bucks for a movie these days! And don't get me started on the price of the soda and popcorn. My date shared her popcorn, because she's sweet.

When the book came out, I was already onto men and their tricks and was shacking up with someone, so I didn't feel it was necessary to read it. It should've been published 10 years ago. That's when I really needed it. Not that I would've paid any attention had I read it. As Alanis would say "I used to be attracted to boys who would lie to me, and you were plenty self-destructive for my taste at the time...I used to say 'the more tragic the better'."

Of course I saw myself in one of the characters more than the others. I was the guy who had feelings for the girl that only wanted him when she was in need of feeling better. That girl was played by Scarlett Johansen. All I could think when I watched her was "She's so hot. I want her curves. And lips. And hair. I wonder what size she is? Not as thin as Jennifer Aniston. Are Jennifer and John Mayer really together, and possibly engaged? They broke up, dude. He's odd. What are the odds of couples lasting when they get back together after a break up? Jennifer always plays herself in her film roles. Always the same character. As Alex said once, "I know. That's why I like her. She'd be a great friend." I wonder if Scarlett met Ryan Reynolds (her husband) while he was engaged to Alanis Morrisette?" Yes, I was having this conversation while watching the movie. It IS scary inside my head. I KNOW.

The storyline was true to life. We justify things to make ourselves and friends feel better. We read into things and analyze them and relive the tiniest details just so we can keep the feelings and adrenline alive. We crave the drama. Isn't drama better than sitting at home, in your pj's, ill from ice cream and bbq pork ribs, blogging on your laptop? With cats??

buddabuddabudda

I love buddas. All buddas. Every time I see one, I want to buy it. Thank God (or Budda) I don’t buy them all. I hate dusting. I don’t know when or how or why the obsession started. I just don’t want it to end.

There are typically two types of buddas. The fat jolly one, and the serene faced one. I prefer the latter. I wonder if Christian’s used the idea of the fat jolly one as a muse for Santa Claus? I have nothing against fat jolly bald men. I just like serenity. Or the illusion of it, anyhow.

I also love Ganesha, a Hindu God. Ganesha is the remover of obstacles and is very generous. He is symbolized as an elephant. I also really like elephants, for no apparent reason. I once had a Ganesha car air freshener. I thought it would be practical and serve two purposes. #1) keep my car smelling funky fresh #2) remove traffic obstacles from my path. I was living in Chicago at the time, and needed all the divine intervention on traffic I could get. Neither happened. So I added a plastic disco ball to round out the ensemble, just for flair, and because I love shiny.

On the subject of Gods….I was meditating one day, minding my own visions, imagining myself walking down a set of stairs, wondering what I would find, when I was greeted by another Hindu god, Shiva. It was trippy, to say the least. What was she doing here? Why would I conjure up this image of a blue woman with lots of arms? She was very happy to see me, and was clapping two of her hands. Just to round out the ensemble, I imagined Budda and Ganesha there, too. I did research on Shiva, and found out she represents death and destruction. Death of something. Sometimes you have to close a door so another can open. Tear something down so you can rebuild something better. So I knew my roller coaster ride of a relationship with someone special was nearing it’s end. I was sad. I still am. Still waiting for the other door to open. Maybe windows keep opening, but I don’t notice them because I’m too busy tugging at the door knob, with my foot on the jamb?

*this blog was written exactly a month ago. since then, my "hindu god of the week" gadget has had a form of Shiva for 3 weeks in a row. so i figured i should post it already. still fighting with my roller coaster relationship. i'm tired of hurting. i've gotten off the ride mulitiple times, but somehow find myself on it again and again. it's just not worth it. friends don't treat you that way.

Soul City

I was looking at A Fuss's (Alex) facebook wall, and it showed that she had taken a "Soul City" quiz. A quiz to find out where you were meant to live. OOOOhhh...exciting! I always wonder where I'd feel most at home. So I took the quiz. And here is my result: Amsterdam!? My first thought was: "Isn't pot legal there?" You can smoke it, not buy it? Or something.....Here's the quiz result: Anything goes! Your laid back and cool dude attitude goes well with the free spirited capital of the Netherlands. You have a hidden, risqué side that unsurfaces when the mood takes you. (when i'm drunk) A cheeky glint in your eye, a certain sex appeal that is extremely captivating. (oh, go on!) You very much believe in working to live, not living to work, (selling my crafts) so I don't expect to see you in the boardroom with Sir Alan on The Apprentice (uh...Donald Trump)- rather sitting outside a nice bar or cafe watching the world go by...(I do that from my padded cell without a door...er..cubical...now)

So true! Especially the last line. I was on my honeymoon in St. Maarten (or St. Thomas, I forget. It was really the divorce cruise, so forgive me), at the highest peak of the island, sipping an overpriced drink, thinking "If I were 25, I would ditch it all, and move here." It still seems like a good idea. But it gets harder and harder to pick up and leave as I get older.

The bulk of the facebook quizzes are written by non-Americans. That's ok. It gives an interesting twist. Except for the grammatical and spelling errors. Those bother me. I shouldn't judge!!

Setsubun

Setsubun, or "seasonal division", is a festival celebrated in Japan on February 3rd or 4th. For many centuries, the people of Japan have been performing rituals with the purpose of chasing away evil spirits at the start of spring. Around the 13th century, it became a custom to drive away evil spirits by the strong smell of burning dried sardine heads. This isn't popular anymore, but a few people may still decorate their house entrances with fish heads and holy tree leaves to deter evil spirits from entering. Now people throw roasted beans around their houses and temples and shrines. They shout "Oni wa soto! Fuku wa uchi!" This means "Devils out, happiness in!"

Why the fuku am I telling you this?? Because I promised Kelley that I would schedule an exorcism at her house last Sunday, and I never got around to it. Do you think it's coincidence that she's got all this fuku'd stuff going on and on, and today and tomorrow just happen to be Setsbun? This girl needs some serious sage smudging and bean tossing right now! She's got drama going on around her, and it's getting to the point of comical. To me. Not to her. So I'm telling the energy around her, "Oni wa soto! Fuku wa uchi!" "Back off, bad mojo! And let the Caribou White Chocolate Mocha goodness in!"

*side note...i totally plagiarized that first paragraph. i'm on like my 6th beer, bored, and stumbled across this holiday on my "reason to drink" gadget on my blog. (not that i need a reason to drink, but it comes in handy) who knew that gadget would become educational?? so i googled it, and had a blog inspiration. so say a prayer for kelley...the girl who said honestly, "Gin and tonic? Is there vodka in that?" we heart you, kel.

Alter Ego

I sarcastically refer to my period as "The Crimson Tide". I affectionately refer to my attitude during this time as "Veruca Salt". It wasn't me having that outburst. It was Veruca.

All bets are off that week. No diet, no budget, no filter. It's a free for all. Crying, eating, drinking, buying something pretty. I usually find myself digging through drawers and cabinets suddenly needing chocolate. Babies. I love babies. Need more babies! I could just eat them, they are so delectable. Don't forget the pants with no waistband. These are very important when feeling bloated and uncomfortable. Note to self: buy more pants with no waistband.

I don't enjoy being an emotional, craving all things sinful, bitch. I do admit it's nice to have an excuse for one week out of every month. The problem is, I tend to be wacko a week prior, the week of, and sometimes the week after. That leaves me with one full week of some semblance of sanity. It's rough being me! Now, where did I put that ice cream....