Camping is for losers

Instead of being a lame ass this past weekend I actually went out with friends Saturday night for drinks. Somehow (God only knows how) the conversation got around to this awesome breakfast place in Marysville. After we had been discussing it for a few minutes Tits McGee turned to me and said, “Wait a minute, didn’t you throw up there?” To which I replied, “Of course – what restaurant haven’t I thrown up in?” No, no, not really…there’s still a few I need to leave my mark on. Tits McGee followed that up with another stellar question: “Why were you throwing up anyways?” At this point I had to ask, “Has it been that long since we’ve hung out? BOOZE, of course. What else could it possibly be?!”

Anyway, the point of this is it lead to a round of nostalgia as to why I will never EVER go camping EVER AGAIN. NEVER. I used to go camping every year with my friends on an Annual Camping Trip dubbed the ACT (we’re very witty people) and I think like most twenty somethings this was really just an excuse to get good and wasted for a whole weekend.

One particular weekend we didn’t have enough tents for everyone so I, extremely wasted at the time, offered to sleep outside. I think I had some romantic notion that it would be nice to sleep under the stars. I was sooo naïve.

The problem with sleeping outside in the oh so wonderful Pacific Northwest is that it rains occasionally, but, no worries, because we had erected a blue tarp to protect us from the dreaded drizzle.

However, we were not prepared for when it rained so hard a puddle formed in the middle of the tarp forcing it to collapse and bring down a bucketful of rain water on my head at 3 o’crotch in the morning. I assure you not the best way to wake a girl with a hangover and at this point I thought to myself, “I don’t fucking give a shit if there’s no room in the goddamn tent they are MAKING room for me.” So I barged in there waking everyone up and pushed everybody over so I could sleep and promptly lay down in a puddle. IN A PUDDLE! A freakin’ puddle had formed on the side of the tent and I flippin’ went for a swim in it.

That was the point at which I stood up and let loose a stream of swear words and sat in the back of Tits McGee’s car until we left to get a greasy breakfast at the restaurant that I threw up in. That, my friends, is why I will NEVER go camping again. NEVER.

Lunch with a side of anti-semitism

I haven’t had anything of interest to say lately except that I’m feeling a tad burned out, but I sure as hell don’t want to hear me whine so I am pretty sure nobody else does too.

However, I was reminded today of a choice conversation I overheard last week that I would be remiss in keeping to myself. The other day at lunch I was lucky enough to be sitting next to a pair of older ladies and instead of reading my book I stared at it as if it was telling me something extremely important in the hopes that they wouldn’t catch on to the fact that I was listening to their conversation.

Now before you get all Judgy McJudgerson on my ass I assure you that you would have been listening in too. Really the conversation consisted of woman ranting about the state of the world while the other woman nodded and threw in a few “You’re telling me”s for good measure.

Basically, for a good fifteen minutes this woman went on and on about those damn Mexicans and, really, when it comes right down to it, they are the ones that ruined the economy. While we’re on the subject of the economy what is with Prez Obama and flying everywhere on Air Force One? Can you believe how much fuel that costs?

Between him and the damn Mexicans it’s a miracle the economy isn’t completely in the dumps! Oh, and did you see who he hired to be the head of Homeland Security? A JEW!

Yep. At this point it was fairly obvious that I wasn’t reading my book and they left soon after so I didn’t get any more pearls of wisdom to share. My guess is they want on a tour of all the local wineries and then drove home drunk.

On a completely unrelated note, despite his hate for the blogosphere Chuckles is tweeting for his company (@Wilmerco) and everybody should follow him because he really does live up to his name. In fact, I just have to share my favorite one: “Kate's been mistakenly complaining about hot flashes this afternoon. What she means to say is flare-ups.” Sorry, Kate… Also, my friend, Maria, started a blog and she is quite the funny gal so you should check it out.

I don't want to grow up

Do you know what I really miss about being twenty two years old? Drinking games. Sure, I miss going out and dancing, but really I could still go out if I really wanted to…I just don’t have any friends anymore who want to join me.

Drinking games on the other hand seem immature once you reach a certain age and being a girl who loves her games this distresses me. I mean is there anything better than games that involve drinking – besides donuts of course (that’s a given).

I love making up silly rules and embarrassing people and anybody who’s ever played with me can tell you how much I enjoy yelling at people when they’re playing incorrectly and then forcing them to down their drink immediately.

So I have decided that I want to celebrate my next birthday (Yes, I am already planning it…this year’s was just such a disappointment) by playing multiple rounds of asshole, kings, red/black, really I could go on and on here. I think this will be an apt way of celebrating the beginning of my upper twenties. I know I said that twenty seven is upper twenties, but I was wrong – I’m still in my mid-twenties. Thank God!

Unfortunately, after the last game of Asshole played with my friends ended with Tits McGee storming out because I kept yelling at her to, “Pay attention for god sake!! It is your TURN. Is your drink empty?! WTF?!”

Soooo…I hope people will be willing to give me a second chance, but I’m not making any promises of good behavior. I guess I’m just hoping people will be willing to overlook my competitive nature and my tendency towards verbal assaults when losing and indulge my love for getting crazy drunk while playing cards. At least I’m giving people nine months to mentally prepare.

Cuh-razy

Life has been overwhelming me lately. School and work and doctor’s appointments have completely overtaken my life and last Friday when the alarm went off at 5:30 in the morning I threw what some might call a hissy fit and started screaming that I just couldn’t, COULD NOT, get out of bed.

Although, I eventually was able to get out of bed, I talked to one of my classmates over email later that day and he was nice enough to point out that things are only going to get harder from here on out. I’m two weeks away from finishing my first year, which I am very excited about, but have realized that this also means that all the easy classes are over. I’m taking two classes this summer instead of just one and next quarter I’m taking a similar load to what I have now.

So what I am getting at is that I felt in order to save my sanity something had to give. School is by far my top priority – I’m spending enough money on it. The thing to give would have to be work. I talked to my boss and am going down to a thirty-two hour work week. I was dreading him saying no because I really didn’t know what my next move would be, but, thankfully, he said yes…even though he sounded unsure about the whole thing.

Basically, though, it will work as long as I can get all my work done. The other rule that I have to follow for this plan to work is to get up at a reasonable time on Fridays. No sleeping in til noon, no more hissy fits about how I just CAN NOT get out of bed. (Although, I really meant it last Friday.)

Anycrapola, I think this might also mean a break from blogging. Who knows what’ll happen though right?!

On a compeletely different note– who do you think would win in a fight between Chuck Norris and a Liger?

My brain feels all warm and fuzzy

Hi everybody. As it turns out I have a hard time blogging when I’m all hopped up on vicodin. See what happened is Monday morning I left my house to go to work and leaned over to pick up the Wall Street Journal and HOLY SHIT, I have never felt pain like that in my life. I haven’t stood up straight since. Poor Chuckles has been taking very good care of me even when I scream at him, “DON’T DO THAT! FUUUUCCCKKKK, IT HURTS!” But the nice Doctor lady gave me vicodin and I’ve been high ever since. I hope I’ll be back to normal soon. I start physical therapy next week – cross your fingers that it works because I’m already starting to get a little chubby thanks to the fact that I use the pain as an excuse to eat lots of candy and I am not allowed to work out right now.

The Death of Domino

I know I am not the first person to say this, but I am quite upset about the demise of Domino. It is pretty much the only design magazine that I enjoy reading. It is original and actually has stuff in it that I feel pertain to me as opposed to Richie Rich who has millions of dollars to spend willy nilly.

I have been reading other design mags in an effort to find a worthy replacement and I have several complaints with them. First of all, what’s with all the fruit? One of the suggestions I noticed was to jazz up your mantel by putting a bowl of lemons on it and scattering more lemons around it. I asked my coworker how long lemons last and she said two weeks. Two weeks. I’m not one to waste food so for me to make it worth while to have a mantel covered in lemons I would have to make a lemony dish every day. Do people really have fresh fruit everywhere in their house like these magazines purport?

Same with fresh flowers? Who can afford to constantly buy fresh flowers? I can somewhat understand in the summer when you can go to a farmer’s market and get a bouquet for $5, but even then I’m not going to buy a bouquet for every damn surface in the house and yet in these magazines there is always a vase full of flowers on every flipping table.

I also feel the need to share with you a few other “suggestions” that were absolutely beyond the realm of ridiculous so everybody can share in my indignation. First, there was the $5,000 sculpture that would be perfect for your library. Yes, your library. Oh, you don’t have one? That’s odd because I thought everybody did.

Second, there was the suggestion to add a little color to your kitchen by buying a red kitchen aid mixer, even if you don’t bake it’ll still provide a bright spot in the kitchen and perk up your mood! For the person out there who is buying a kitchen aid mixer just to look at could you pretty please pay for my tuition instead? I promise it’ll go to better use than spending hundreds of dollars on something you’ll never use when instead you could just buy a pretty bowl at Ikea and fill it with oranges. Just shoot me an email and I’ll let you know the amount. You could even send it right to my university so you know it’s not being spent on shoes and booze. Thanks!

Why would I save my refund? I'm American!

I found out yesterday just how much my tax refund is going to be and since I’m in school it is much bigger than what I have received in the past. Now the question is what do I spend all this money on?! I don’t want to hear all you fuddy duddies (Chuckles) and your stoopid suggestion of, “Why not save it so you can pay off more of your school loans later?” Pooh on you is what I say!

My first thought was to spend it all on almonds. I know I’m weird – no need to inform me in the comments section. The thing is I’m obsessed with these almonds:

I luurrvvee them and I’ve convinced myself that they’re healthy so I can eat them all freakin’ day long. I’m sure that they’re only healthy if I eat a few and not all of them in one day, but I find that life is more enjoyable when I live in denial. So option one is to start a stockpile of roasted almonds.

Option two is the more boring option where I go on a crazy shopping spree. The first order of business would be a watch. I lost my last one and my phone is always dead so I never know what time it is, which probably explains why I’m late to everything. Actually, I’m probably late to everything because I’m like my dad and am convinced that it only takes me twenty minutes to get wherever I’m going and in Seattle that kind of logic implies that I am certifiably crazy. But maybe if I get a watch I’ll be more aware of the fact that even though I think it only took me twenty minutes it, in fact, took over an hour. I am thinking I want this watch:

I kid. I kid. That’s ugly. I was thinking something more along the lines of this:

Or I could get a pair of yellow shoes…I have been dying for a pair for ages.

Or I could just spend it all on porn. The possibilities are endless! What would you buy right now if you could buy anything with no regards to cost?