Bundled Up Thursday

With the wind blowing like a mo-fo last night, stimulating my snot glands to do their business, the last thing I wanted to do was take a picture of myself. Half-nekked or otherwise. Yes, I the Californian would like to give a little rant about the cold last night. It was cold. Damn cold. Mind you, the thermostat in Vehicular read a mere 52 degrees but the wind was blowing a good 100 mph and I'm factoring in my own wind chill and figure it felt like negative 52. SHUT IT! It's my blog and I can say whatever I want! Some of my very best friends live on the right coast so they always like to one-up me on how the weather out there is so much worse but I don't live there. So there.
A little known fact about my company is that the local police department trains their K-9s in our warehouse. They stash drugs and the dogies get 'em. How cool is that? I would have liked to have seen it first hand after closing time last night but I had a class to attend.
Oh, class. I'm sure glad I sacked up and went even though I wanted to see K-9s and have bronchitis. It was review day so I got to write all about my teacher and how much I dislike her and the way she teaches class. Happy happy. Joy joy.
After class I sped home to find comfort underneath my warm blankies and drift off to dreamland thanks to a hardy dose of NyQuil. Then I woke up this morning to take a refreshingly warm shower only to find out that the wind had blown away the heat, this is according to my apartment manager who don't really speak-a da English. Taking an ice cold shower is NOT the way I want to start a work day. I'll tell you that right now. Sons of bitches.
Other than that, SSDD. Hope ya'll have a good one.



I don't think it's any secret that I've harbored somewhat of a school-girl crush on Ms. Spears for some time now. She's hit very high highs and very low lows but somehow she's carved a little niche in my heart. I was as happy as anyone when she ditched Kevin Federline. Now, however, she's crossed a line and I don't know if I'm going to be so willing to let her back in. She's hanging out with Parasite Hilton and it's eating me alive. Yesterday I was at home with this stupid illness all day so rather than do my research papers or something productive, I did a lot of blog searching and spent a lot of time on tmz.com and Pink Is The New Blog. Link clicking, which you can do yourself as I won't do it here, brought me to a shot of Britney's cookie - as bald as her newborn Jayden James' ass, C-section scar visible and all. I mean, who wears a mini skirt and gets out of a car, showing her vagina to the world? A mother of two younguns? I should hope not. I understand she's only 24 and Lord knows all girls want to do at that age is have fun, but damn, woman. They're called "private parts" for a reason. Ditch that Hilton whore like you did that gold digging man of yours. And for God's sake, kick the ciggy butt habit, sober up, spit that fucking wad of gum out of your mouth once and for all and cover those ginormous milk sacks of yours. Clean up your act or Fed-Ex is going to start looking like the more responsible parent and he'll take those kids of yours away. This is tough love. Show me what you're working with, Britney. Gyrate with a snake or something. Damn.


Not Much Going

You'll never believe this but I'm still fucking sick. I'm coughing up little green cartoon characters like in that nasty commercial for Mucinex. That advertising campaign ranks right up there in the category of grossest shit ever, second only to Digger the Lamisil representative and I cringe every time it comes on the television. Seems only natural that I'd post it on my blog, right? I believe mucous equals infection so I have a call in to the doctor and I'm just waiting to hear when he'll allow me to be graced with his presence. $10 for a 10 minute consultation to tell me I have a cold. Seems reasonable. He better break me off with another prescription of intense pain killers. ***UPDATE*** I've been diagnosed with an upper respiratory infection and bronchitis (to be said with a Spanish accent as follows: B-rrr-own-key-tees). A flu shot was received. I've purchased Day and NyQuil Sinus (because apparently Albertsons in Oxnard doesn't believe in the BFF-endorsed Advil Cold & Sinus) as well as a Refresh tea with three honeys from Starbucks and some fuckin' Ricola. Prescriptions are being filled and soup will be had. Let's beat this thing together.

And on another very important side note: it's Babe's birthday today! Happy birthday, Babe! He is BFF's hubby and the brother I wish I'd had. Uh, along with the one I already do, of course. God bless him on his special day. Extra thanks go to BFF for supplying a photograph as I was clearly unprepared. How have I known Babe for a third of my life yet I have not a single decent shot of him?

Dapper, ain't he?


The Passport


This morning when I woke up, my eyes were sealed shut and my nose was no longer attached to my face apparently and I had that Elmer's glue lip syndrome so I called up the boss man and said I needed to sleep a bit more before I rolled into the office. After a hearty codeine-induced, 2-hour snoozefest, I finally got here around 10 a.m. but I'm feeling like someone hit me with a steam roller. Just like in A Fish Called Wanda. All slow-motion like. "It's K-K-K-Ken c-c-c-coming to k-k-k-kill me." I think that'll be the next DVD I pop in.
Last night I threw caution to the wind and went out with Quasi-beau and a couple of his buddies to get some beer and nachos and watch some football. In hindsight, always 20/20, that might have put the nail in my cold coffin so to speak. So, Shora and Sassy, while I enjoyed your theory of alcohol killing my germs, I think I just blew it right out of the water.
So I've got a little under 6 hours left of my work day and a 3-hour class to look forward to tonight. I don't know if this gal could feel any better about the direction this day is taking, truth be told.


Sickies on Sunday

Dammit. Wasn't I just sick for like a week not that long ago? I clearly remember already having the flu and that was bad enough. Now I have some pain in the ass cold that is utterly pointless. My sinuses are draining down my throat and I wake up with lips that feel like they've been coated with Elmer's glue. Not exactly the look I was going for. Downside of being sick? I've been housebound for most of my 4-day weekend and I'm going to have to cancel going to visit a friend in from out of town this afternoon. I also had to turn down an offer to babysit my nephew for the first time. Upside? Lots of pajama time, got my homework for class done and I've read all of my magazines.
Oh and DVDs. If you haven't watched it in a while I highly recommend Mean Girls. Linday Lohan is such a darling and you kind of shame-shame her for turning into the clubbing tramp she is today but she's such a good actress. The lovely and intellegent Tina Fey wrote the script and it will probably go down in history as one of the great High School movies. Even Tim Meadows' understated performance is to be applauded. And if you can squeeze in a viewing of Raising Arizona I don't think you'll be disappointed. Nic Cage and Holly Hunter had me laughing my ass off. Classic.
Plus I got to see the USC Trojans stomp Notre Dame. I'm sure in hindsight it would have been better to have posted my predictions of a Trojan victory but I didn't. I did know however and they didn't let me down. I don't even like football but for some reason any time someone talks shit about USC I get all defensive. It's not like I even went to that school. Is there a cooler name (or a cuter player) than John David Booty? I just don't think so. Some of my friends have shirts that say "Are you ready for a Booty call?" and I want one.
Other than that, it's back to the grind tomorrow. Can't wait to see the windfall of shit that will be waiting for me when I go into the office. Hooray for holidays.


Bond, James Bond

I can honestly say that before today I don't know that I have ever seen a double-oh seven movie all the way through. I'm really not into espionage movies so I just never gave it a thought. Today, Eli asked if I'd join him to see Casino Royale and boy am I glad I took him up on the offer. From what I've read in many magazines there was much to do about Daniel Craig becoming the new James Bond. I don't know what all the fuss was about because DAMN! he is fine with a body that rocks the party in the best kind of way - keep your eyes open for the scenes of him emerging from the water in his tiny swim shorts. Yum. He's got an egotistical dark side but he's a hero and a lover. There's nothing wrong with that. There have been many a night that I've begged my parents to turn off the poker tournaments on TV but when James Bond is dealt his cards it's hard to not get sucked into the game. The villains look villainous, the women are vixens and the twists and turns are plenty. I'd give my left breast to drive an Aston Martin like the one M, the always amazing Dame Judi Dench, gives Bond and watching it get demolished nearly brought a tear to my eye. From the moment Casino Royale begins you're sucked into action that will have you leaping out of your chair. You should all know by now I'm famous for my participation when watching movies and I was dodging punches, ducking under bullets and diving out of the paths of explosions for the entire 2 and a half hours. I applauded at the end. That's all I can say.

By the way? The trailer for the new Spiderman coming out in May of 2007? Hotness.


Black Haiku Friday

Going to the mall?
Over my own dead body
I'll be a recluse
This week was drama
Needed to prioritize
Crack the old school books
Turkey hangover
Never want to eat again
But breakfast sounds good...


Half-Nekked Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving! Feliz dia de gracias!
Big belly, unbuttoned pants and a turkey to blame.
(And the diet starts tomorrow)
I'm thankful for my friends, my family, food on my table, the roof over my head, the clothes on back, my job that provides for me, my health, my car, my quasi-beau, and so much more. Hopefully you got a chance to list the things you're thankful for and to remember that it could always be so much worse. Thanks to the armed forces fighting for our freedom, another thing I'm grateful for. HHNT.
And, let's not forget, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CRUSTY!!!


Humpin' The Turkey

Last night, after getting a gorgeous red manicure, I got to kick it with the nephew for a bit. He's a month old and is already trying to build the leg muscles of a competitive kick boxer. I think he likes funk music because his little ass was dancing. Serious. He's all about being awake now and looks me dead in the eye. G-damn I love that little man. He's so handsomes. Got some professional photos done and he looks just like Dr. Evil's mini-me... cute baby form instead of not-so-cute midget.
I had Cold Stone's for dinner. That's right. Ice cream for dinner. To be exact, pumpkin pie ice cream with the following ingredients mixed in: whipped cream, caramel and graham cracker crust. Yum-me. That's all I'll say about that.
If I wasn't four days dry I'd head over to BJ's for a pumpkin ale after work. Four days without a drop of liquor. And they said it couldn't be done! Gotta be honest, it feels good. I'll probably celebrate my new found sobriety by having a couple beers with tomorrow's appetizers and a glass of wine with my Thanksgiving dinner because, let's be realistic. A whole day with the family? It's really not negotiable.
Other than that, I don't have much to say. BFF is in Paris so if you feel like relentlessly e-mailing me today to help me pass my work day, the invitation has been extended. But just until 4 p.m. Pacific Standard Time because the boss man is letting us cut out early. Holla.


Weirdest. Gift. Ever.

Did you get a good look? Looks like a sleeping puppy, huh? Well this weird little toy tricked my buddy Eli into thinking I'd gotten a puppy. Part of its realism is that its chest rises and falls like it's breathing. Scary. Eli wanted to shoot it with a pellet gun. Can't say I blame him. My mother, crazy bitch that she is, bought this for me because I said I wanted a puppy. I'm a 29-year old woman with a fake dog. Just another thing to vacuum around. ***Update*** You, too, can adopt a Perfect Petzzz thingy. Knock yourself out.


Whiny Ass

First and foremost, thanks to you, my fellow blog buddies. Your encouraging words on that shameful post below really put a smile on my face. It's a cyclical thing where I beat the ever living shit out of myself for being human and then at the end of the day I look back and say, "Overreact much, Randi?" Honestly, I blame the booze. It's doing my waistline, my pocket book and my mindframe no favors. I think I'll hop on the fabled wagon for a bit. Or, you know, just stop binge drinking like I'm some college frat boy. Stick to a glass of wine and some water? Maybe a pint of beer instead of a half gallon? Just some points to ponder.
Also? The school thing? Yeah... the truth is I'm totally up to speed on my assignments even though I could really be better about the reading and I'm pulling As (maybe Bs) in my classes as of this post. I was under the misconception that the rough draft research paper was due today when in reality it was just an optional thing if you wanted the professor's feedback. She actually complimented another related assignment I'd turned in and said she liked my topic and my writing style. So really? All that ranting below? Totally and utterly pointless.
What this really boils down to is I'm a perfectionist. People can tell me I'm doing a great job until they are blue in the face and I can get nothing but positive reinforcement but I will still find flaws in what I've accomplished. Some way I could have been better. Work is a bit stressful still because I am still catching on and I think it stems from that. The fact of the matter is, however, I'm doing a bang up job there and no one is complaining. Just me.
And? I'm an eensy weensy bit jealous that my brother is living the life I thought I'd be living by now - a sig other, a kid, a place in the nice part of town and a good paying job. All my life I've felt like I've worked really hard to get to where I am but it all seems to come so easily for him. So this is really my shit and I need to work it out without beating myself up. After all, I'm only human, right? Tomorrow I'll try and be funny again.

Letting Myself Down

I'd like to sum up the way I feel in a tiny little rant. I've been drinking too much, eating whatever I want and have not been exercising for at least a month. Therefore, my pants are tight, my body resembles a Jell-o Jiggler as opposed to a J-Lo Jiggler and I'm upset with myself. And my fridge and cupboards are close to bare. Also, my studies have been put on the back burner in a very unproductive way so I haven't done any reading or writing or 'rithmetic and things are due today in a very serious way. I'm tired of telling myself "tomorrow will be different" and doing nothing to change my ways. I certainly didn't see the inside of a gym this weekend and instead of buckling down and writing a rough draft of my research paper, I killed Saturday at a football game and then proceeded to suffer all day yesterday for it. Oh, hangover headaches, why? I did my laundry, paid bills and went out to dinner instead. There are days where I wonder why I'm even in school if I'm going to be taking over the family business so-to-speak and then there are days when I am so gung-ho about getting my bachelor's degree I feel like no one can stop me. Now the holidays are here and it's going to be non-stop until the middle of January. Whew. K. I feel better. Just had to get that off my chest.


USC vs Cal

Disclaimer: Because I am sensitive to the fact that BFF and her hubby, Babe, are Cal Alumni and I care more about marching bands than football there will be no discussion of score and/or game in this post. On Saturday I went to my second USC football game ever, first time tailgating. This makes for a very long day. There is a lot of drinking involved, outhouses and finger foods - not the best combo. We left Oxnard at 9 a.m. and got home around midnight. Wow. Some highlights? Meeting some other people from Oxnard and having them shout "805! Chiques!" Standing in a long ass line for a port-a-potty and screaming "What the fuck is taking so long?!" and having a girl come out of said port-a-potty saying, "Fuck you, bitch, talking shit!" Haha! A fight over an outhouse, people, it is on. Kicking over a band member's beer, whoopsie!
Sitting on John's Hog
Tailgating with the mens - earning title "beer wench"
Me and Tommy Trojan; The World's Best Marching Band
Party foul!
They can spell, too!
A full house

The fog rolls in


Thank God It's Haiku Friday

There is nothing like
Middle of the night phone calls
Drunk and/or sober
Weekend plans are few
Just brunch for sure on Sunday
Duct tape my mouth shut
Thanksgiving's so close
I can taste that turkey now
Clothes that fit be damned


Shower HNT

K, so I blatantly stole this from Exile and while my shower curtain isn't nearly as saucy as his, it's goofy as all hell and worthy of the HNT forum. I really have to stop waiting until Thursday mornings to take these pictures.


London Calling

So I'm tagging along with BFF on a wee vacay to London. It's official. Purchased the tickets yesterday for the 2nd to the 10th of January. Couldn't be more pleased.
This ticket purchase and consequent trip got me thinking about what Fergie's song means. "How come every time you come around my London, London Bridge wanna go down?" That doesn't make sense. Is she talking about her mouth? Her pants? I just don't get it. Stay far away from Fergie. She can't be trusted.
Pulled out the old passport this morning because I wanted to check on the expiration. Just so happens it expired in March of '97 so it is of absolutely no use to me now. That picture? Man. If only I had a scanner to capture the beauty I was at the age of 15. My hair was god-forsaken, people. It actually looks frizzy yet windblown. I think I tried to straighten out my perm that day. I don't think it's the same Ogilvie home perm my aunt gave me in her trailer one summer but it's just as bad. May have even shed a tear or two before the photo was taken because I knew how terrible I looked. Hoooo, Doggie.
During the summer of 1992, over 14 years ago, I took a three week bus tour along the east coast of Australia. Swam in the Great Barrier Reef, went to the Sydney Opera House, had a BBQ in the Outback. Plus it was three weeks away from my whole family! How glorious. That's the only place that passport ever went. Maybe I can fill this next one up. Weeeee!
Just got my damn passport. $200! Can you believe that? Expedited because otherwise that bitch wouldn't get to me on time. Damn. Oh and my picture? Gorgeous yet again. I look like a prepubescent boy. Gotta love it.


Happy Birthday, Moo Lady!

59 today.
A hot grandma.
I wish I had a rack like that.
Watch out Martha Stewart.
"Sup, bitches!"
Love you, Mom.

Don't ever change.


Last night at the hockey game we went into the souvenir store because I've been searching high and low for a women's Kings jersey with a rhinestone crown on it. (On a side note: if anyone knows where I can find said jersey, please let me know). Anyhoo, for those of you who are unaware, Staples Center, home of the Kings, is smack dab in the middle of downtown Los Angeles. I'd say about 90% of the employees there are of the African American persuasion so the ladies that work there have all kinds of attitude and I looooooove it! This stems back to high school when I saw Menace II Society and thought I was O-Dog for about a year. In the store, while I was looking for an XL in the young women sizes, one of the sales people came up to me and said , "Grrrl, they hardly ever have XL for girls like us." By "us" she was referring to myself and herself. I am a statuesque 5'8" 165 lb. woman whereas she was a squat five to six inches shorter than me and probably outweighed me by a good 20 lbs. I smiled and responded that clothes these days aren't made for women with curves and together we joked that designers had no respect for the booty and the boobies. A laugh was shared, we parted ways and I continued shopping. She then approached me again and said, "Grrrl, I have something you should look at. This is made for us plus-sized girls." Um. Ok. Someone just lost a sale. I'm all for sharing the curves comment but please don't call me plus-sized. Please. I wear a size 10 so I'm not exactly small but come on. Gotta be honest, some hopes were dashed for me so I headed to the beer stand and ordered me some nachos and a hot dog. Mmm. Comfort food. Guess who has her gym bag with her today?

Kings 4, Sharks 2

Before the game: Me & Gerg, Dad & Curtis
Grier - one of the few black men in hockey
A little more flattering shot of dad & Fight!


Tagged by BFF!

1. Things that scare me: Losing my friends or family.
2. People who make me laugh: Pretty much anyone, I'm easy to please.
3. Things I hate the most: Ignorance (racism, homophobia, you name it.)
4. Things I don't understand: Really hard math and why people are so mean sometimes.
5. Things I'm doing right now: Sneaking a quick post before I get some work done whilst eating cantaloupe.
6. Things I want to do before I die: Travel the world and get my bachelor's degree. Maybe get married and pop a few kids out.
7. Things I can do: be anal retentive enough to keep a clean desk, car and apartment simultaneously!
8. Ways to describe my personality: Manic, hilarious, insecure.
9. Things I can't do: Knit, find a good man to worship me.
10. Things I think you should listen to: the opinions and advice of your friends and, per BFF, your mom.
11. Things you should never listen to: BFF said The Smashing Pumpkins and I'll have to agree though I'd like to add Audioslave to that list. Oh, and peer pressure. Just say no, kids.
12. Things I'd like to learn: enough Spanish to be bilingual, how to cook a decent meal without a recipe book.
13. Favorite Foods: burritos and sushi and pizza and hot dogs and cookies and ice cream...
14. Beverages I drink regularly: Fat Tire Beer and Wild Horse Chardonnay.
14a. Beverages I'm trying not to drink regularly: See above and add sodie pop.
15. Shows I watched as a kid: Gummy Bears, Garfield, He-Man, Fraggle Rock
16. Persons I am tagging: If it gets his ass to post, I'm tagging Macca, but he won't do it.


Gratuitous Nephew Pics

Arrived asleep... shocking.

Alfred Hitchcock Impersonation

Eyes & Burping



Oh, yes. I finally got there. Hetero Life Partner and I took in a matinee of the Borat movie. I do not have the inclination to spell out the lengthy title at this juncture. Hilarity ensued. My admiration for Sacha Baron Cohen is epic. His commitment to this character is admirable. My sentences? Choppy at best. I'm not exactly how to put into words my movie going experience. I can definitely say I laughed my ass off at parts and my mouth hung agape at others. This movie doesn't make Kazakhstan look bad, it makes Americans look bad. Perhaps that is an overstatement. It makes "The Heartland" look bad. Oh, middle America, how I pity thee. The Midwesterners he captures on film are ignorant, homophobic, racist bible bangers at best. I left the theater glad I was born and raised and reside in Southern California, where tolerance and acceptance of alternative lifestyles run rampant. I'm glad HLP had free passes for this viewing because I might have been disappointed had I paid to see it. Not to minimalize the movie, but it could have easily been an HBO special. I don't want to say too much because the shock value is half the fun. So, if I were Ebert or Roeper, I'd give it 2 thumbs up.
And before I forget (as I've completely neglected the fact all day) Happy Veteran's Day. My father and both grandfathers were military men and I'm so grateful that they believed in our country enough to serve it. I may not be a supporter of the war we are fighting but I support our troops 100% and pray they all return home safely. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen in the service. My gratitude is immeasurable.

Celebrity Death Match

Naturally I had to steal this from HDW. Can't quite say I agree but it beats having Celine Dion, Christine Lahti and Allison Janney on there. That cut off face on the right? Hilary Duff... yup.

Friday Night Lights

Last night we went to the utterly delicious P.F. Chang's for Curtis's birthday dinner. As expected, the good little baby slept the whole time. When we were leaving, Auntie was lucky enough to see ACTUAL EYEBALLS! I know! He got a big kiss on the big cheeks for that one. (Don't worry, girlies, I'll post more baby pics at the end of the weekend.) Quasi-beau, not pictured here, even joined us. It was monumental. This is near the Thousand Oaks Civic Auditorium and they're setting up the outdoor skating rink as I type this. Ice Skating. Outdoors. When it's hardly ever below 60 degrees. Only in Southern California.


Happy Birthday Haiku Friday

Happy Birthday, Bro
What a man you have become
And a great dad, too
Partied down last night
Had 2 guys ask my number
Danced the night away
Things are very good
Feeling content with my life
Is it contagious?


Half-Nekked Team Britney

She's ditched Cletus Federline
Now I hope she'll be mine-oh-mine
No, Britney, I'm not a dyke
But I can be one if you like

Happy HNT to each and every one of you.
Disclaimer: the word "dyke" was used with the utmost respect to my lesbian sisters and used only for poetic justice.



Wow, you guys, I'm feeling the love this week, let me tell you! Last night's Election Party was rather fun. Ran into a bunch of people from my old job at the City (they still haven't replaced me! Irreplaceable!) and got to hang out with the family for a bit. Good live music, nice venue. Plus free food? You had me at hello.
Tonight I have class but I don't know that I want to go per se. An old friend from L.A. will be in town and I'd much rather see him than listen to my psycho professor ramble on about ancient Mexican culture that has virtually nothing to do with Southern California Chicano Art which is what I was initially misled to believe that the class would be about. Dang, that was quite the run-on sentence!
Tomorrow night I'm invited to a farewell party for a former co-worker so that ought to be fun. Get out there and be seen for a bit. Just cracked open the old e-mail and I got an Evite for a Girls Only Party on Friday. We all know what that means... lubes that lead to yeast infections, nipple gels that cause uncomfortable burning sensations and sex toy demonstrations. Yippee! And best of all? It's being presented by a girl I used to be on the speech team with in high school. Oh, nerds. We have so much fun.
I love when my weeks are like this, all action-packed. It makes me appreciate the days I have nothing to do so much more and makes up for the nights I've wasted in a bar. Or is that "got wasted" in a bar...



UPDATE: Britney to divorce Kevin! She's mine, people! All mine!
Not much to say today other than my PSA to remember to go and vote today. For a long time I didn't vote because I didn't want to go to jury duty. In hindsight, that's about the dumbest shit I've ever done. That's followed closely by the dumbest excuse I've ever heard: I don't vote. That doesn't make you cool. I think about my brother who has a felony on his record. He can never vote. Ever. I have to wonder what would happen if everyone that felt they didn't need to exercise their right to choose who's calling the shots in this great land of ours actually took the half an hour out of their day and headed to the polls. Your boss has to give you time to vote, why not take that time out of the office and put it to good use? There's really no excuse... other than laziness and ignorance. And those aren't good excuses.
And tonight I'm going to my first ever election party. Boss Man is running for City Council and invited all of us ragamuffins here in the office to dinner tonight. Should be neat. I'm in no position to turn down a free meal on a Tuesday. I wonder if we'll bid the Governator adieu...
Other than that, SSDD. School is like a vampire, slowly sucking the life out of me 2 nights a week. Last night I found a new parking lot on campus but after class I couldn't find my car and a security guard actually mocked me because of it. Even made the "dur duh dur" sound. Nice.
Sorry, readers. I'm just not interesting today.


Fat Tire

My Favorite Beer

Last Call

On Friday night I was at our local neighborhood bar, the beloved Pirate's Grub 'n' Grog, from early on in happy hour until last call. This is not something I'm proud of. Actually, the night ended very poorly for me. It started out innocently enough, Kitty and I just wanting to grab a couple drinks to kick off her birthday weekend, maybe a bite to eat. Well, the bar was packed so we ended up on the restaurant side. I think that led me away from my regular Friday night dinner of hot wings and pushed me over the edge to order myself a bacon cheese dog. You read that correctly. A big fat all-beef hot dog topped with 3 slices of bacon and 2 slices of cheddar cheese. After 3 bites I realized I made a huge mistake and ended up putting my dinner to sleep under my napkin.
After dinner I dropped Kitty off and called my quasi-beau (also at Pirate's) to see if he wanted to meet up for a movie and he replied that I had to come back to the bar because there was a girl there that wouldn't leave the table. Well this girl was pretty much the equivalent of a street walker. She had to be in her 40s and had a face that would make Freddy Kreuger cringe in horror. And when I got to the bar she was all over quasi-beau and his friends, at one point grabbing our token gay away from the group to tell him she just needed a friend because she just watched her 5-year old daughter die in her arms. Wow. I came to find out later that she was told that quasi-beau and I were undercover cops. Real nice.
By this time I've had a couple beers under my belt so I worked up the courage to tell her she'd spent enough time at our table and it was time for her to be on her way. She looked at me like I had to be joking but nuh-uh. Bitch, you gots to go. And she did, only to move on to another regular barfly that looks just like Santa Claus. By this point the bartenders are even getting involved telling Freddy's twin that she needed to stop hitting on their dad (Santa) and eventually they kicked her out of the bar. Awesome. After all of this I come to find out quasi-beau had bought her a drink earlier on in the evening. Dummy. No wonder he couldn't shake her.
The evening came to a close with the British bartender, Maria, buying us a round of chocolate cake shots. Ever had one of these? Well it's half Frangelico and either half Absolut Vanilla or Absolut Citron. Either way? Delicious. Only I don't advise taking aforementioned shot after you've had 6 (or more? Bartender gave me a freebie and I lost count) Fat Tires. It may result in you with your head in the toilet after a good roll in the hay. Or so I've heard...
By the way? 6 Fat Tires and bacon cheese dogs are not conducive to weight loss. Shocking. I know. But I've managed to pack on a good 4 pounds this week and that is not ok. Damn you, bite sized candy bars!!!


The 'Hood

When I first found my apartment I was so excited. After living with my parents for over 2 years after 9 years away I was anxious for my freedom, to get all of my things out of storage and to have some time alone. As far as interiors go, this place fits me like a glove. Just yesterday I picked up some bar stools and have been acquiring finishing touches that really make my apartment mine. Pretty much the only thing left to buy would be a giant piece of art to cover the white wall in my kitchen but all in all, I'm happy with the way my 2nd hand furniture came together with some of the new things I've gotten. It's cozy here. You should drop by sometime. But you have to be able to handle noise. My parents' house is on a golf course in a gated and sort of geriatric community so most times the silence there was deafening. I'd come from Los Angeles where helicopters would practically land on my rooftop and sirens were commonplace every 5 to 10 minutes. It was an adjustment but I loved the quiet nights, it was the insanity of the chirping birds in the morning that really got to me but in hindsight how can I complain about the sound of nature? Now, I hear things I wish I didn't have to. Take this morning for example. Because my bedroom is in a loft it gets a bit toasty so I sleep with my window open. At 4 a.m. I was awakened by the repetitive calling of "Hey, Homey." Over and over. Apparently someone had passed out in front of my neighbor's door and he couldn't get into his apartment. Don't worry though, from what I heard, he was breathing so luckily we didn't have a homicide on our hands. Then at 6 a.m. (on a Sunday morning, people!!!), some dummy was warming up his car for many minutes all the while blaring mariachi music. For those of you outside of a predominantly Hispanic community, it's basically Spanish Polka. I just don't need it. Constantly. It's all the time. The thumping bass. Kill me now. And the piece de resistance (to be said with the corniest of French accents) was my mother calling at 8 a.m. after I'd finally fallen back to sleep. Turns out at a charity auction last night she got tickets for 6 of us (Family + Randi's guest) to go see George Lopez perform at the Gibson Amphitheater at Universal Studios on December 27. Not only that, but this group of honkies even gets backstage passes! You may recall the last time I saw G-Lo. All I can imagine is that good times will ensue once again.

By the way, today is Kitty's 27th birthday. You don't know her and she doesn't have a blog but I thought I'd give a shout out nonetheless. I'm off to brunch in a few, anxious for the food coma I'll be in all afternoon. The Lord's Day, indeed.


Baby's First Restaurant

These gratuitous nephew photos are more for me than you so sorry if they take away my edge. The truth is, I'm nothing more than a soft Auntie now. If only Rip Van Winkle here would wake up every now and then...


Looking for Jewelry?

One of my life-long friends (and former next door neighbor from my childhood) is making some lovely jewelry and selling it online! Take a look and see if you don't want to spoil yourself.

Haiku T.G.I.Friday

Another week done
Kitty's birthday on Sunday
Brunch is my sole plan
Gotta quit candy
Halloween is on my hips
Not 5 o'clock yet?
Happy hour is calling me
Fat Tire's so yummy!
kitty & i doing what we do best circa '98ish


YOU GUYS!?!??!!

It's BFF's 29th Birthday! Go wish her a Happy Happy!
Wish I could be there, Sister!

Half-Nekked Throwback

Per Exile's request I'm throwing up my "vintage" gym shorts I've had since my Freshman year of high school, 1991. If only my ass were as small today as it was then. Who am I kidding? It's never been small.
And as a post-Halloween bonus feature I'm even including a close-up of my spooky manicure. I'm a giver, people. It's what I do! Have a Happy HNT!