I was so looking forward to Ugly Betty. But do I dare say I can see cancellation in the future? Don't get me wrong, I thought it was so cute and funny, and, yes Salma, I got the message. And I completely understand that there is a lack of Latinos on primetime television. I get and support that.
(Because have you noticed the slow decline of Black representation on TV, too? And don't you dare comment back to me "UPN". Let's not go there. Because it is Dunzo. And the new CW only held on to a few of the now gone network and all we have left, thank God, is Girlfriends--minus Toni, but still at least we have it)
No laugh track? Hasn't anyone learned from Arrested Development's success/failure? And an hour? OMGosh it was way too long! I can only take exaggerated fashion stereotypes for so long and an hour was way too much. Was it just me, or did you feel you were watching a movie?
Moving right along to finding out whose panties were on the board...
are men really this stupid? Come. On. George! Meredith's panties cannot pass on as Callie's panties.
If my 'boyfriend' believed for a second that some toothpick's underwear would fit me, I'd hit him on the head. I wouldn't even be flattered. Wake up and smell the crotch.
Were we, as viewers seriously to believe that George never questioned the size of the panties (compared to the size of his girlfriend)?
Don't get me wrong, I HEART Callie, mucho. I like her so much more than I dislike Meredith (yep, I said it, I do not like Meredith, one bit)
And if I heard K.T. Tunstall's "Suddenly I See" one more time last night on ABC, I think I would have thrown the TV out the window. Seriously. It's still stuck in my head.
But all may have been forgiven with the quick second shot of McSteamy. Steam. Wet. Half naked. Towel. Yum, yummy, yum.
If anyone finds a clip of that online, email me, STAT!
Friday, September 29
Wednesday, September 27
Breakfast At the Dumpster
It's not as hobo-ish as it sounds.
This morning at the butt crack of dawn I decided to take a run. Not that unusual, but nowadays my runs happen at 11AM. You know, after The View but before Martha Stewart.
I decided to run this morning because I ate two hamburgers late last night. Two! I never do that. One, I never tend to eat late dinners. Two, two hamburgers?!? What? The? You'd think I was pregnant. But it was all I ate, no fries or anything else on the side, so---oh fuck, I won't lie: I had 2 hamburgers, cole slaw, and a ton of ruffles chips.
I NEVER. I swear.
I just had to run this morning.
I kind of defeated the purpose and ran to Starbucks, ordered a vanilla cream and a slice of lemon pound cake. YES. I go to Starbucks and order non-coffee drinks. So?
I walked back to my apartment complex. Here, we have park benches lined up sporadically next to the building. One in particular is next to the trash dump area, which is also located next to the nearest gate to my unit.
I sat down, enjoyed the pre-rain weather and smells and the rest of my vanilla cream.
Then it happened. My luckiest day ever.
This girl, who lives cater-corner and below me (when you are at home all day every day you learn a lot about who lives here and who doesn't) was struggling with a huge framed print, her briefcase, and dog.
I just looked at her as she struggled with the gate door and leash. (Since my dog passed away, I kind of avoid contact with people and their dogs, it's silly on my part, really)
Until I saw the framed poster...it was/is a Breakfast at Tiffany's Limited Edition poster, from Z Gallerie.
My mouth gaped. Then it dropped as she threw it on top of the trash shoot door.
Wait. A. Tiffany.
I have all sorts of prints from that movie. It is my ultimate fave. And I realize almost every girl in America says that, but let me tell you: it is my fave.
I have replicas of the original movie poster, postcards, black and white stills, and my screen saver is so bad ass...maybe I'll move Marie Antoinette and showcase Audrey in my profile picture...?
This certain poster she was getting rid of...I have the miniature postcard one (thanks, Erica!): Audrey (Holly) is sitting at a table, breakfast and coffee to go cup in front of her, while she smiles and has the cigarette in her gloved hands.
And just the other day, I re-arranged my furniture and decided that a black and white print needed to go on the wall, above my television.
So...I did something kind of gross...
but I now have a HUGE poster for above my TV.
This morning at the butt crack of dawn I decided to take a run. Not that unusual, but nowadays my runs happen at 11AM. You know, after The View but before Martha Stewart.
I decided to run this morning because I ate two hamburgers late last night. Two! I never do that. One, I never tend to eat late dinners. Two, two hamburgers?!? What? The? You'd think I was pregnant. But it was all I ate, no fries or anything else on the side, so---oh fuck, I won't lie: I had 2 hamburgers, cole slaw, and a ton of ruffles chips.
I NEVER. I swear.
I just had to run this morning.
I kind of defeated the purpose and ran to Starbucks, ordered a vanilla cream and a slice of lemon pound cake. YES. I go to Starbucks and order non-coffee drinks. So?
I walked back to my apartment complex. Here, we have park benches lined up sporadically next to the building. One in particular is next to the trash dump area, which is also located next to the nearest gate to my unit.
I sat down, enjoyed the pre-rain weather and smells and the rest of my vanilla cream.
Then it happened. My luckiest day ever.
This girl, who lives cater-corner and below me (when you are at home all day every day you learn a lot about who lives here and who doesn't) was struggling with a huge framed print, her briefcase, and dog.
I just looked at her as she struggled with the gate door and leash. (Since my dog passed away, I kind of avoid contact with people and their dogs, it's silly on my part, really)
Until I saw the framed poster...it was/is a Breakfast at Tiffany's Limited Edition poster, from Z Gallerie.
My mouth gaped. Then it dropped as she threw it on top of the trash shoot door.
Wait. A. Tiffany.
I have all sorts of prints from that movie. It is my ultimate fave. And I realize almost every girl in America says that, but let me tell you: it is my fave.
I have replicas of the original movie poster, postcards, black and white stills, and my screen saver is so bad ass...maybe I'll move Marie Antoinette and showcase Audrey in my profile picture...?
This certain poster she was getting rid of...I have the miniature postcard one (thanks, Erica!): Audrey (Holly) is sitting at a table, breakfast and coffee to go cup in front of her, while she smiles and has the cigarette in her gloved hands.
And just the other day, I re-arranged my furniture and decided that a black and white print needed to go on the wall, above my television.
So...I did something kind of gross...
but I now have a HUGE poster for above my TV.
Tuesday, September 26
Damn You, NFL!
I heart football. I super heart college football. (I'm still shocked that GA Tech is in Atlanta...what the, nobody told me!)
Right now I am not liking the NFL one bit.
Is it me, or does it seem like all this seasons' games are rigged, so far?
It's only week 3.
And I have a bone to pick.
I am in a football pool, in a desperate attempt to win some cash. Just kidding, I've been part of one since the job before the job I just lost. It's been going on for about three years.
The first year I sucked. The second year was so-so. Last year, I kicked ass and ended up with $300.
Clap for me.
This year when asked if I was in, I thought about it and was leaning towards a no. You know because I have no job and it's $50 to join the pool.
But then I had a dream that Eli and The Giants would go all the way this year. I don't know what that was about especially since I like my dreams to involve Peyton. Don't get me started. He has some sort of hotness to him.
After the dream, I joined in. To save some cash, I went in with a partner.
HUGE mistake.
When I want to vote against Dallas, he is all for Dallas.
Hey, I just live here, I don't have to like that team at all.
I had to sit him down for a one on one talk and let him in on my strategy and how lucky he is that I pulled him into this pool to begin with.
Ugh...boys.
This week I was eating my words.
Mutha...F*cker.
What the hell happened to the teams this week? Was it because I wasn't able to give my full attention to any of them (due to being in Atlanta, half awake on Sunday)?
Where were the team players? Sick? There is no sick in football and it's week 3.
HELLO.
Where there was a win for some teams, it should have been a loss.
Yeah, I'm looking directly at The Patriots. What? The? Ball?
I was so disappointed...and then even more so last night.
Don't get me wrong I am so happy The Saints won, really, I am. It was a given win. Shoot, they could have been as bad as the Texans and still won that game. If anything, nobody should have bet against them...
but we did.
Partner convinced me that Atlanta was having a good run, thus far.
I argued that it was the first game back in the SuperDome and the morale would be out the roof, if anything...come, on.
We bickered back and forth. Since it is half his money and the fact that I was rendevousing in Atlanta this past weekend...I agreed.
I still don't know why or how or why.
Now?
We are dead last in the pool.
Who would vote against that game? Who? Who?
sadly...me.
Right now I am not liking the NFL one bit.
Is it me, or does it seem like all this seasons' games are rigged, so far?
It's only week 3.
And I have a bone to pick.
I am in a football pool, in a desperate attempt to win some cash. Just kidding, I've been part of one since the job before the job I just lost. It's been going on for about three years.
The first year I sucked. The second year was so-so. Last year, I kicked ass and ended up with $300.
Clap for me.
This year when asked if I was in, I thought about it and was leaning towards a no. You know because I have no job and it's $50 to join the pool.
But then I had a dream that Eli and The Giants would go all the way this year. I don't know what that was about especially since I like my dreams to involve Peyton. Don't get me started. He has some sort of hotness to him.
After the dream, I joined in. To save some cash, I went in with a partner.
HUGE mistake.
When I want to vote against Dallas, he is all for Dallas.
Hey, I just live here, I don't have to like that team at all.
I had to sit him down for a one on one talk and let him in on my strategy and how lucky he is that I pulled him into this pool to begin with.
Ugh...boys.
This week I was eating my words.
Mutha...F*cker.
What the hell happened to the teams this week? Was it because I wasn't able to give my full attention to any of them (due to being in Atlanta, half awake on Sunday)?
Where were the team players? Sick? There is no sick in football and it's week 3.
HELLO.
Where there was a win for some teams, it should have been a loss.
Yeah, I'm looking directly at The Patriots. What? The? Ball?
I was so disappointed...and then even more so last night.
Don't get me wrong I am so happy The Saints won, really, I am. It was a given win. Shoot, they could have been as bad as the Texans and still won that game. If anything, nobody should have bet against them...
but we did.
Partner convinced me that Atlanta was having a good run, thus far.
I argued that it was the first game back in the SuperDome and the morale would be out the roof, if anything...come, on.
We bickered back and forth. Since it is half his money and the fact that I was rendevousing in Atlanta this past weekend...I agreed.
I still don't know why or how or why.
Now?
We are dead last in the pool.
Who would vote against that game? Who? Who?
sadly...me.
Monday, September 25
Kitchen.
Okay so the ever-so great mobile blogger cut off half my message. Oh. well. I meant to say I looooove his kitchen.
Not kit.
Anyways. I love love love the city of Atlanta. I had a blast. I think it's because I went in knowing nothing about the city and what to expect. I just thought it was the cutest of cities. It's so urban with a southern charm to it.
I hope that makes sense.
So, Hotlanta...
Let me share how I was such a nervous wreck the moment the plane took off. And it was not because of a fear of flying. I had two bloody marys onboard. I needed to calm it down in a big way. They didn't help though. Once I saw him, the nerves came right back. But then, again he looked so cute!
We went straight to a wine bar.
This is where I have to tell you, once again, I have not eaten at all during the day on Friday.
This is also where I can share that I know diddle squat about wine. A lot of my friends (and now, Hotlanta) know a lot about wine: tastes, regions, grape type, blah, blah. Me? All I know is red, merlot, white. Done.
You know when you are so nervous that your mouth has to be constantly moving? I just kept talking and talking and talking and drinking and drinking and drinking. It was so awful I am sure. I kept telling myself to put a pork pie in it, but that never worked.
I don't know how I made it through the night without throwing up.
We finally went to his place and can I say, WOW.
I was so impressed.
With the kitchen. Yep yep. Granite counters, steel appliances (all KitchenAid), and tons of room. We could've had a party in there.
The rest of the house is your typical bachelor pad. Leather couch, king size bed, big ass mirror as the headboard, and the biggest outdoor grill I have ever seen.
Then I took a look at his expansive DVD collection, I'm talking at least 200 DVDs and 3 "Girls Gone Wild" DVDs.
Uhm hmm.
Couldn't he have hid those?
As drunk as I was I passed out on his couch while we were talking. I felt horrible.
We spent the day driving around town and he showed me some good sights. One of which was Georgia Tech. I must be the biggest idiot and its not like I don't watch college football every Saturday, but I so didn't think that Georgia Tech was in Atlanta! This was the biggest revelation for me. The campus is adorable.
We decided to get dressed up for dinner. I am known for taking the quickest showers known to man. I can be in and out in two minutes. I kid you not. I can put on make-up and be dresses and ready in 15 minutes. Done.
What I hate more than anything is waiting for other people to be ready. Especially when I am hungry. And more so when it's a guy.
The boy took an hour after I was finished getting ready, to do, God only knows what.
But it was worth it. He looked Fine. Capital 'F'.
We went to a cute place called Horseradish, where I got my Southern food fix. It was so yum.
Then came the part of the trip that I was dreading. One of his friends was having a party and we just had to go.
I didn't want to meet any of his friends so soon.
They were all so nice. The girls were so welcoming and the boys, oh the boys, were fun.
Sadly, I know that now I'm going to be known as the girl Hotlanta brought to the party and made out with in the garage.
Yep. Yep.
I never said I was classy.
Our situation became more real after we came back to his place and he started yakking about it. Again. Does this guy ever shut up?
We made a pact to try and stay up all night so that we didn't waste any more time out of the trip and could spend it with each other, wide awake.
What a challenge, but I got through it with an hour sleep.
We talked and watched a movie. I highly recommend "Lucky Number Slevin". So good. Best revenge movie I've seen since "Man on Fire" and I love a revenge plot.
Sunday we ate brunch at what I would call the cutest place on Earth, Toast.
How cute is the name?
Seriously. And you know I had the eggs benedict. Yum Yum.
Before I knew it I was fighting to keep my eyes open and it was time for me to leave.
Boo.
As soon as I landed in Dallas I had a huge craving for Pei Wei. I took a cab straight to the Pei Wei (suitcase and all), two blocks from my apartment, and guess who was there?
John Salley!!!!
And like a dufus I so thought it was Michael Jordan at first glance, but then nearly lost my shit when I realized it was Salley. Holy Crap!
I don't watch The Best Damn Sports Show, anymore, but hello?!? The Pistons and Bulls championships, and to round it off for you, he attended Georgia Tech.
Not kit.
Anyways. I love love love the city of Atlanta. I had a blast. I think it's because I went in knowing nothing about the city and what to expect. I just thought it was the cutest of cities. It's so urban with a southern charm to it.
I hope that makes sense.
So, Hotlanta...
Let me share how I was such a nervous wreck the moment the plane took off. And it was not because of a fear of flying. I had two bloody marys onboard. I needed to calm it down in a big way. They didn't help though. Once I saw him, the nerves came right back. But then, again he looked so cute!
We went straight to a wine bar.
This is where I have to tell you, once again, I have not eaten at all during the day on Friday.
This is also where I can share that I know diddle squat about wine. A lot of my friends (and now, Hotlanta) know a lot about wine: tastes, regions, grape type, blah, blah. Me? All I know is red, merlot, white. Done.
You know when you are so nervous that your mouth has to be constantly moving? I just kept talking and talking and talking and drinking and drinking and drinking. It was so awful I am sure. I kept telling myself to put a pork pie in it, but that never worked.
I don't know how I made it through the night without throwing up.
We finally went to his place and can I say, WOW.
I was so impressed.
With the kitchen. Yep yep. Granite counters, steel appliances (all KitchenAid), and tons of room. We could've had a party in there.
The rest of the house is your typical bachelor pad. Leather couch, king size bed, big ass mirror as the headboard, and the biggest outdoor grill I have ever seen.
Then I took a look at his expansive DVD collection, I'm talking at least 200 DVDs and 3 "Girls Gone Wild" DVDs.
Uhm hmm.
Couldn't he have hid those?
As drunk as I was I passed out on his couch while we were talking. I felt horrible.
We spent the day driving around town and he showed me some good sights. One of which was Georgia Tech. I must be the biggest idiot and its not like I don't watch college football every Saturday, but I so didn't think that Georgia Tech was in Atlanta! This was the biggest revelation for me. The campus is adorable.
We decided to get dressed up for dinner. I am known for taking the quickest showers known to man. I can be in and out in two minutes. I kid you not. I can put on make-up and be dresses and ready in 15 minutes. Done.
What I hate more than anything is waiting for other people to be ready. Especially when I am hungry. And more so when it's a guy.
The boy took an hour after I was finished getting ready, to do, God only knows what.
But it was worth it. He looked Fine. Capital 'F'.
We went to a cute place called Horseradish, where I got my Southern food fix. It was so yum.
Then came the part of the trip that I was dreading. One of his friends was having a party and we just had to go.
I didn't want to meet any of his friends so soon.
They were all so nice. The girls were so welcoming and the boys, oh the boys, were fun.
Sadly, I know that now I'm going to be known as the girl Hotlanta brought to the party and made out with in the garage.
Yep. Yep.
I never said I was classy.
Our situation became more real after we came back to his place and he started yakking about it. Again. Does this guy ever shut up?
We made a pact to try and stay up all night so that we didn't waste any more time out of the trip and could spend it with each other, wide awake.
What a challenge, but I got through it with an hour sleep.
We talked and watched a movie. I highly recommend "Lucky Number Slevin". So good. Best revenge movie I've seen since "Man on Fire" and I love a revenge plot.
Sunday we ate brunch at what I would call the cutest place on Earth, Toast.
How cute is the name?
Seriously. And you know I had the eggs benedict. Yum Yum.
Before I knew it I was fighting to keep my eyes open and it was time for me to leave.
Boo.
As soon as I landed in Dallas I had a huge craving for Pei Wei. I took a cab straight to the Pei Wei (suitcase and all), two blocks from my apartment, and guess who was there?
John Salley!!!!
And like a dufus I so thought it was Michael Jordan at first glance, but then nearly lost my shit when I realized it was Salley. Holy Crap!
I don't watch The Best Damn Sports Show, anymore, but hello?!? The Pistons and Bulls championships, and to round it off for you, he attended Georgia Tech.
Saturday, September 23
Friday, September 22
Going Mobile!
I have to make this quick because my to-do list today is out of control! I don't know how I manage to go each day with nothing exciting to do beyond 'The View' and then BAM! a list a mile long:
Take Friend to airport
Interview
Go to Target
Go to Blockbuster
Lunch
(order cupcakes)*
Pack!
Go to Atlanta
See how busy bee I am! Holy moley. And yes, you read right I have not started packing, yet.
I have signed in for mobile blogging (yeehaw) and will do all my best to send a post of a 'yea' or 'nay' on the weekend.
Peace Out!
Take Friend to airport
Interview
Go to Target
Go to Blockbuster
Lunch
(order cupcakes)*
Pack!
Go to Atlanta
See how busy bee I am! Holy moley. And yes, you read right I have not started packing, yet.
I have signed in for mobile blogging (yeehaw) and will do all my best to send a post of a 'yea' or 'nay' on the weekend.
Peace Out!
Thursday, September 21
It's Like 1996 Up in Here
Minus the matching beds, community bathrooms, and the cafeteria food.
I was very nervous meeting College Roomie. Once past the hugs and the 'you look the same' we settled in at the Village Burger Bar.
She caught me up on her life and vice versa. Then it was drinking drunky time. The Burger Bar has some great burgers but better they have some great drinks ($2 off happy hour). I highly recommend the mangotini. I had a wee bit of a problem.
I ordered the brownie and ice cream scoop dessert. The waiter brought it out. Nuts.
He asked College Roomie if she wanted the brownie. She's allergic nuts, too.
LOVE, her!
I asked him to take back the brownie and replace it with an extra scoop of ice cream.
I don't know if I sounded bitchy when I asked for that or what, but the man brought out over a pint of ice cream, in the form of 4 of the biggest scoops of ice cream I ever seen.
My eyes were bigger than my stomach and my brain ignored the fact that I just ate goat cheese, drank three martinis, and it was that time of the month.
Let me tell you: During that time of the month I have the most awful lactose intolerance ever. And I can never handle dairy and hard liquor in the same setting. We've been here and done that. It ain't pretty.
College Roomie didn't want any of the ice cream, so I ate it all. Let's just say I slept in the bathroom, cursing a cow.
But College Roomie was so much fun. She's living my pseudo fantasy. She met and married a British guy while on a cruise. Now they are going through a very thorough Greencard investigation with INS. I didn't think that really happened to people. And he is such a cutie-patootie.
I think I may hang out in the international terminal for a bit before my Atlanta flight tomorrow.
Where else do foreigners hang out?
I was very nervous meeting College Roomie. Once past the hugs and the 'you look the same' we settled in at the Village Burger Bar.
She caught me up on her life and vice versa. Then it was drinking drunky time. The Burger Bar has some great burgers but better they have some great drinks ($2 off happy hour). I highly recommend the mangotini. I had a wee bit of a problem.
I ordered the brownie and ice cream scoop dessert. The waiter brought it out. Nuts.
He asked College Roomie if she wanted the brownie. She's allergic nuts, too.
LOVE, her!
I asked him to take back the brownie and replace it with an extra scoop of ice cream.
I don't know if I sounded bitchy when I asked for that or what, but the man brought out over a pint of ice cream, in the form of 4 of the biggest scoops of ice cream I ever seen.
My eyes were bigger than my stomach and my brain ignored the fact that I just ate goat cheese, drank three martinis, and it was that time of the month.
Let me tell you: During that time of the month I have the most awful lactose intolerance ever. And I can never handle dairy and hard liquor in the same setting. We've been here and done that. It ain't pretty.
College Roomie didn't want any of the ice cream, so I ate it all. Let's just say I slept in the bathroom, cursing a cow.
But College Roomie was so much fun. She's living my pseudo fantasy. She met and married a British guy while on a cruise. Now they are going through a very thorough Greencard investigation with INS. I didn't think that really happened to people. And he is such a cutie-patootie.
I think I may hang out in the international terminal for a bit before my Atlanta flight tomorrow.
Where else do foreigners hang out?
Wednesday, September 20
Go 'Head Be Gone with It
The other night while on the phone with Hotlanta, the conversation took an odd turn into one about sex.
Ew.
And it wasn't phone sex. He was asking me if I thought that's what we would be doing when I get there. Huh? And then went further with it and discussed the parameters, risks, and results if we did or if we didn't do it.
Wha? What?
I'm sorry but I don't need a conversation on whether we will do it or not, three days before said event if said event were to occur.
Am I wrong to think that should just be spontaneous? If the passion is there then the rest will take course?
Why all the strategic planning?
A friend of mine thinks it was very mature and smart of him to bring it up. Guess I've only been with immature idiots all this time. She thinks it shows that he cares and respects me and where this could lead.
Guess I care less.
I didn't know how to reply in the conversation. I was just about a lot 'uh huh' and 'okay' but really a lot of confusion and a wee bit turned off.
All I can think of now is: To do or not to do? That is the question.
Ew.
And it wasn't phone sex. He was asking me if I thought that's what we would be doing when I get there. Huh? And then went further with it and discussed the parameters, risks, and results if we did or if we didn't do it.
Wha? What?
I'm sorry but I don't need a conversation on whether we will do it or not, three days before said event if said event were to occur.
Am I wrong to think that should just be spontaneous? If the passion is there then the rest will take course?
Why all the strategic planning?
A friend of mine thinks it was very mature and smart of him to bring it up. Guess I've only been with immature idiots all this time. She thinks it shows that he cares and respects me and where this could lead.
Guess I care less.
I didn't know how to reply in the conversation. I was just about a lot 'uh huh' and 'okay' but really a lot of confusion and a wee bit turned off.
All I can think of now is: To do or not to do? That is the question.
Tuesday, September 19
Questions Answered
Twisted,
My favorite animal is a frog, but I wouldn't want to be one. I'd think I'd like to be a deer; but one that lives not in a hunting zone. I think deer are the most graceful walking/running animal of the bunch. I just dream of being graceful.
Bev,
No, I wasn't hit on at the seminar. This man did make it an obvious point to sit next to me, he never said anything to me though--that could have been because I was so busy 'texting' on my phone before the instructor spoke. But he did have the grossest longest fingernails ever. YUCK.
I was mostly scared of the women there. They looked like they could eat me for lunch. It may be just me, but I think they kept staring at me because I was looking too cute (not really, just dresses nicely).
Honeykbee,
My favorite cuss word is fuck. You can use it in so many ways. I try not to say it casually and only use it when it is needed. Which is a lot lately.
Next to that I say 'damn' a lot. On an episode of Project Runway, Heidi Klum said 'damn' and it came out like 'da-am' and since then I've been saying that a lot, just like Heidi, because it was so funny.
Swishy,
I have never been on a road trip, ever. But this is where I have to say I think Oprah and I are a lot alike and why I was laughing my ass off during that show. Because if I were ever on a road trip, I think I'd be the Oprah. I hate overtaking trucks, merging, and night travel. I also drive with no music.
That was the funniest and best Oprah I've ever seen.
All I have to say: Oprah pumping gas and complaining about the $127 gas total. HILARIOUS!
Beth,
You must be reading my mind. But let me answer your questions: Yes, I dream and in color. And I remember most of them. Lately, I've been remembering them all.
For the past couple of weeks all my dreams have starred me and this guy from my past. Each morning I wake up and have been remembering and trying to interpret them. Don't know what it means. But each one has been shaking up my core.
My favorite animal is a frog, but I wouldn't want to be one. I'd think I'd like to be a deer; but one that lives not in a hunting zone. I think deer are the most graceful walking/running animal of the bunch. I just dream of being graceful.
Bev,
No, I wasn't hit on at the seminar. This man did make it an obvious point to sit next to me, he never said anything to me though--that could have been because I was so busy 'texting' on my phone before the instructor spoke. But he did have the grossest longest fingernails ever. YUCK.
I was mostly scared of the women there. They looked like they could eat me for lunch. It may be just me, but I think they kept staring at me because I was looking too cute (not really, just dresses nicely).
Honeykbee,
My favorite cuss word is fuck. You can use it in so many ways. I try not to say it casually and only use it when it is needed. Which is a lot lately.
Next to that I say 'damn' a lot. On an episode of Project Runway, Heidi Klum said 'damn' and it came out like 'da-am' and since then I've been saying that a lot, just like Heidi, because it was so funny.
Swishy,
I have never been on a road trip, ever. But this is where I have to say I think Oprah and I are a lot alike and why I was laughing my ass off during that show. Because if I were ever on a road trip, I think I'd be the Oprah. I hate overtaking trucks, merging, and night travel. I also drive with no music.
That was the funniest and best Oprah I've ever seen.
All I have to say: Oprah pumping gas and complaining about the $127 gas total. HILARIOUS!
Beth,
You must be reading my mind. But let me answer your questions: Yes, I dream and in color. And I remember most of them. Lately, I've been remembering them all.
For the past couple of weeks all my dreams have starred me and this guy from my past. Each morning I wake up and have been remembering and trying to interpret them. Don't know what it means. But each one has been shaking up my core.
Monday, September 18
My 2nd Post For the Day
"I cannot wait until your smile is here"
That has got to be the best text message ever to cross my phone display screen. That is for sure.
Hotlanta is just 4 days away. I have to admit, I'm getting a wee bit excited.
Does anyone have any suggestions to any must sees of the city? When it comes to Atlanta, I am clueless as to what is there for tourists?
Coca-Cola?
--Yes, Twisted, Anything...now, I'm nervous to what you will ask, hmm.
That has got to be the best text message ever to cross my phone display screen. That is for sure.
Hotlanta is just 4 days away. I have to admit, I'm getting a wee bit excited.
Does anyone have any suggestions to any must sees of the city? When it comes to Atlanta, I am clueless as to what is there for tourists?
Coca-Cola?
--Yes, Twisted, Anything...now, I'm nervous to what you will ask, hmm.
Mark My Words
I hereby vow that if I am ever in a position where I am the hiring manager/contact, for any open positions with my company, I will respond to all job inquiries via email or the telephone.
This is my vow to all future job hunters of America.
I think it is so rude not to reply to a job applicant.
Especially if they write a kick ass cover letter customed to you.
Especially if they have interviewed with you.
Especially if this is the second or third job posting for the open position.
What gives? Do I suck?
I don't understand. How hard is it to reply to an email? Simply say something along the lines of "Thank you for submitting your resume, we will be in contact with those that are invited to interview. Good bye and good luck."
How hard is that? Because I know that you received my email and I know that you are a person because its going to your email address and not some random HR filter email.
Whatever...
In other news, Rachael Ray and Megan Mullally kicked off their own talk shows today. Rachael yelled the entire hour and had (snooze) Diane Sawyer as her first guest. Megan kicked ass with Will Ferrell, naturally I was laughing my ass off.
Then it was time for me to attend an unemployment workshop. I had to go. The unemployment peeps basically sent out an invitation/ warning, that failure to attend could stop your benefit payments. OUCH. My biggest mistake was looking cute for this seminar. Huge mistake. Lesson learned. I stuck out like a sore thumb.
I got to log off now as Oprah is about to kick off the season and I may need something to write/ complain about later, since I am up to 2 posts a day (Thanks, Bev).
But I am running out of interesting stuff to write about, so is there anything you'd like to know about me? I promise I'll write and answer all your questions.
I'm nice like that unlike other people in the world, I'm looking directly at you Hiring Manager, YES, YOU!
This is my vow to all future job hunters of America.
I think it is so rude not to reply to a job applicant.
Especially if they write a kick ass cover letter customed to you.
Especially if they have interviewed with you.
Especially if this is the second or third job posting for the open position.
What gives? Do I suck?
I don't understand. How hard is it to reply to an email? Simply say something along the lines of "Thank you for submitting your resume, we will be in contact with those that are invited to interview. Good bye and good luck."
How hard is that? Because I know that you received my email and I know that you are a person because its going to your email address and not some random HR filter email.
Whatever...
In other news, Rachael Ray and Megan Mullally kicked off their own talk shows today. Rachael yelled the entire hour and had (snooze) Diane Sawyer as her first guest. Megan kicked ass with Will Ferrell, naturally I was laughing my ass off.
Then it was time for me to attend an unemployment workshop. I had to go. The unemployment peeps basically sent out an invitation/ warning, that failure to attend could stop your benefit payments. OUCH. My biggest mistake was looking cute for this seminar. Huge mistake. Lesson learned. I stuck out like a sore thumb.
I got to log off now as Oprah is about to kick off the season and I may need something to write/ complain about later, since I am up to 2 posts a day (Thanks, Bev).
But I am running out of interesting stuff to write about, so is there anything you'd like to know about me? I promise I'll write and answer all your questions.
I'm nice like that unlike other people in the world, I'm looking directly at you Hiring Manager, YES, YOU!
Friday, September 15
Coming Clean
Catching up with College Roomie was a blast. I was in tears from laughing so hard. She brought back up plenty of memories. Plenty. Some too embarrassing to share, some I had long forgotten, and those that just cannot be. She told me she was just as excited that I was literally right down the road and wanted to come over that minute.
I had to decline due to lack of shower in 2 days. Yep. Yep.
First let me tell you how the biggest decision I need to make each day is, to shower or not.
It's not as gross as it reads. If I am not leaving the house, breaking a sweat, or seeing anyone; may I ask, why bother with the soap and water?
And I'm saving those extra pennies.
Like water is the most expensive bill I have. Yeah, right.
Yes, I was also too lazy to get in the shower. I want to be in top notch when I see her. And a rushed shower was not going to get me like that. Yes, I'm vain...remember, the hair? Plus it was 8-something at night and I was in for the evening...ha ha, not that I was ever 'out' and have anything to do early the next morning.
She left for Houston this morning, so I won't be able to see her until next week. I had to promise that I'd be showered by then.
One of the questions she asked me was if I was still a Bette Midler freak fan.
YES.
I am such a big nerd. You have no idea. I know all the words, songs, and dance routines from Bette's Diva Las Vegas show. I used to have it on tape and someone recorded some crap crap film making documentary over it. That was a sad day in our dorm room. She remembers me crying over it, I don't think I went that far...
After that day I was constantly paranoid if a VHS of mine was in the VCR because that girl liked to hit the record button for the silliest things.
She'd excuse them with "Oh my gosh, that camera angle is awesome. See?" and show me the 15 second scene 100 times. I never got it. She did.
Her Radio, Television, and Film degree landed her some good work. One includes a nationally aired commercial.
Back in that day, I was pre-law, if I told my parents that I was going to UT so I could earn a RTF degree...oh no, that would never happen. My mom would take me to Best Buy and throw a video camera my way and said, "There you go. Happy Graduation"
My parents were old school and from another country. So college to them was where you went to become doctors and lawyers...not to learn something like P.R. skills (which to this day my mother has no idea how to define my degree, no matter how many times I explain it to her)
And look how far that got me.
Showerless and unemployed.
I had to decline due to lack of shower in 2 days. Yep. Yep.
First let me tell you how the biggest decision I need to make each day is, to shower or not.
It's not as gross as it reads. If I am not leaving the house, breaking a sweat, or seeing anyone; may I ask, why bother with the soap and water?
And I'm saving those extra pennies.
Like water is the most expensive bill I have. Yeah, right.
Yes, I was also too lazy to get in the shower. I want to be in top notch when I see her. And a rushed shower was not going to get me like that. Yes, I'm vain...remember, the hair? Plus it was 8-something at night and I was in for the evening...ha ha, not that I was ever 'out' and have anything to do early the next morning.
She left for Houston this morning, so I won't be able to see her until next week. I had to promise that I'd be showered by then.
One of the questions she asked me was if I was still a Bette Midler freak fan.
YES.
I am such a big nerd. You have no idea. I know all the words, songs, and dance routines from Bette's Diva Las Vegas show. I used to have it on tape and someone recorded some crap crap film making documentary over it. That was a sad day in our dorm room. She remembers me crying over it, I don't think I went that far...
After that day I was constantly paranoid if a VHS of mine was in the VCR because that girl liked to hit the record button for the silliest things.
She'd excuse them with "Oh my gosh, that camera angle is awesome. See?" and show me the 15 second scene 100 times. I never got it. She did.
Her Radio, Television, and Film degree landed her some good work. One includes a nationally aired commercial.
Back in that day, I was pre-law, if I told my parents that I was going to UT so I could earn a RTF degree...oh no, that would never happen. My mom would take me to Best Buy and throw a video camera my way and said, "There you go. Happy Graduation"
My parents were old school and from another country. So college to them was where you went to become doctors and lawyers...not to learn something like P.R. skills (which to this day my mother has no idea how to define my degree, no matter how many times I explain it to her)
And look how far that got me.
Showerless and unemployed.
Thursday, September 14
This Week: Eggs
I see more of my kitchen nowadays than I did back when I was employed. Back then it was a lot, so you can imagine.
I am in my kitchen more often than any other room in my apartment. I was elated to see this month's Real Simple's "What Do You Love Most About Your Kitchen" segment.
For me, it's the coziness and the fact that it's all mine. It's really small, so it can barely handle two people at a time. I like it like that. I dislike other people in my kitchen. Don't cook for me in my kitchen. And for goodness sakes, let me get you that glass of something to drink. You're a guest!
I'm just very particular. There are certain cutting boards for meat and others for vegetables. Only the silicon plated utensils can be used with the calphalon pots. The metal utensils are for the other pots and pans. That red roaster...is just that, a roaster. The drinking glasses with roosters on them are for juice. The others are for everything else.
Maybe I'm just compulsive??
The other week I shared that I tried several of my own self made recipes to create my very own vanilla cupcakes. We ran out of those $20 Cupcake groceries and are too lazy and budget conscious to go out and buy more.
So, this week, I am looking to create my very own Eggs Benedict recipe.
I love me an eggs benedict.
I haven't created my own, just yet and have been using other people's recipes to gather tastes and techniques.
I came across this on Smitten Kitchen. Not Eggs Benedict, per se, but the pictures were calling out for me to taste.
I made it yesterday and did not care one bit for lettuce based pesto...unh unh. And I had to get over my tomato issue and 4 tomatoes later, I was semi-cured.
So I re-did it.
Pesto and Egg-Stuffed Tomatoes
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen
Set oven to 400 degrees.
extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 tablespoon minced garlic
1/4 cup store bought pesto
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/8 teaspoon black pepper
hollandaise sauce (created by whisking egg yolk, warm milk, and lemon juice)
2 large tomatoes (about 3 inches in diameter)
2 large eggs at room temperature
Cut the tomato top and dig out tomato, so that just the shell is left. Slice a bit off the bottom of the tomato so it sits upright on your baking sheet. Season with salt and pepper. Gauge your salt by how salty your pesto is. Spoon garlic in. Spoon pesto in. Crack an egg into tomato. Repeat with other tomato. Drizzle baking sheet with olive oil. Place tomatoes on baking sheet. Drizzle top of tomatoes with olive oil. (I LOVE olive oil)
Bake about 15 minutes until egg sets.
Remove from oven, put on plate, and top with hollandaise sauce. *Optional: sprinkle with more pepper.
It is so yummy.
I'm thinking of going farther and toasting some sort of bread and then when the tomatoes come out the oven, serving ontop of toast. Maybe english muffin?!?
Oooh and ham between the bread and the tomato...
That'll be Saturday's adventure in the kitchen.
I am in my kitchen more often than any other room in my apartment. I was elated to see this month's Real Simple's "What Do You Love Most About Your Kitchen" segment.
For me, it's the coziness and the fact that it's all mine. It's really small, so it can barely handle two people at a time. I like it like that. I dislike other people in my kitchen. Don't cook for me in my kitchen. And for goodness sakes, let me get you that glass of something to drink. You're a guest!
I'm just very particular. There are certain cutting boards for meat and others for vegetables. Only the silicon plated utensils can be used with the calphalon pots. The metal utensils are for the other pots and pans. That red roaster...is just that, a roaster. The drinking glasses with roosters on them are for juice. The others are for everything else.
Maybe I'm just compulsive??
The other week I shared that I tried several of my own self made recipes to create my very own vanilla cupcakes. We ran out of those $20 Cupcake groceries and are too lazy and budget conscious to go out and buy more.
So, this week, I am looking to create my very own Eggs Benedict recipe.
I love me an eggs benedict.
I haven't created my own, just yet and have been using other people's recipes to gather tastes and techniques.
I came across this on Smitten Kitchen. Not Eggs Benedict, per se, but the pictures were calling out for me to taste.
I made it yesterday and did not care one bit for lettuce based pesto...unh unh. And I had to get over my tomato issue and 4 tomatoes later, I was semi-cured.
So I re-did it.
Pesto and Egg-Stuffed Tomatoes
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen
Set oven to 400 degrees.
extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 tablespoon minced garlic
1/4 cup store bought pesto
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/8 teaspoon black pepper
hollandaise sauce (created by whisking egg yolk, warm milk, and lemon juice)
2 large tomatoes (about 3 inches in diameter)
2 large eggs at room temperature
Cut the tomato top and dig out tomato, so that just the shell is left. Slice a bit off the bottom of the tomato so it sits upright on your baking sheet. Season with salt and pepper. Gauge your salt by how salty your pesto is. Spoon garlic in. Spoon pesto in. Crack an egg into tomato. Repeat with other tomato. Drizzle baking sheet with olive oil. Place tomatoes on baking sheet. Drizzle top of tomatoes with olive oil. (I LOVE olive oil)
Bake about 15 minutes until egg sets.
Remove from oven, put on plate, and top with hollandaise sauce. *Optional: sprinkle with more pepper.
It is so yummy.
I'm thinking of going farther and toasting some sort of bread and then when the tomatoes come out the oven, serving ontop of toast. Maybe english muffin?!?
Oooh and ham between the bread and the tomato...
That'll be Saturday's adventure in the kitchen.
MySpace?!?!?!
I was under the impression that if anyone was searching for me on MySpace; they'd look me up, see I'm not there (except some poser with my exact name), and that would be it.
Boy, was I wrong.
I got an email a couple weeks ago from a former co-worker. It was sent to a really old email inbox, that I check once a month maybe longer. It somewhat said, "Are you still at this email. Call me"
Let's just say this. This co-worker and I are friends and she has my phone number, so I marked off any emergency. I haven't spoken to her in months. We are not lost friends. I thought this email was intended for gossip. Seriously, that's all we have for each other nowadays.
Last week, I checked that email again and she had another message for me, simply stated "CALL ME".
Okay, all caps get my attention, so I call her. She is basically laughing her fanny off from the time I say hello. She tells me this long winded story about how, the person who now has my old telephone extension is getting random messages for me (3 years after I left the place). It was a joke because they all assumed it was some bill collector. Then one day, the person at that extension picked up the phone and spoke to my mystery caller.
It was my old college roommate! My roomie from UT. We were the best roomies ever, peeps were jealous that we got along so great. We had the pimp room and would host movie marathon nights every Wednesday night (she was a film major).
We got separated because I got greedy and decided to live in the cleaner, more up to date all girls' dorm across campus (which I eventually got kicked out of for having a boy in my room--it was completely innocent! We were studying. Fo' real)
After I transferred back home to San Antonio, we still kept in touch and went on mini vacays to the coast. We were mad fun together.
Somehow the telephone calls dwindled and we never heard from each other.
Apparently she had sent many emails to my poser self on MySpace and never heard back from poser me. She remembered that the last time we spoke I worked at such and such and she remembered the extension! (The person there now doesn't have a personal voicemail message; she has the computerized automated outgoing message).
My old roomie gave her number to the girl to pass on to me.
Hence this long ass story.
Cut to half an hour ago: I called Old Roomie.
GET THIS!
ARE YOU READY?
REALLY READY?
WAIT FOR IT...
She lives here in Dallas! Down the road! Literally less than 5 minutes from me...all this time, well for year. But, still.
Can you believe it?
We could only speak for a few minutes because she is about to head out for an interview (we're both unemployed!!)
I cannot wait for her to call me back. Can you see me clapping my hands and jumping for joy...someone else to play with during the day! And reunited cause it feels so good.
I just cannot wait.
Oh and I am so joining MySpace, for real. Who else is looking for me?
Unless you want to share a scary story or warning so I don't, let me know.
Boy, was I wrong.
I got an email a couple weeks ago from a former co-worker. It was sent to a really old email inbox, that I check once a month maybe longer. It somewhat said, "Are you still at this email. Call me"
Let's just say this. This co-worker and I are friends and she has my phone number, so I marked off any emergency. I haven't spoken to her in months. We are not lost friends. I thought this email was intended for gossip. Seriously, that's all we have for each other nowadays.
Last week, I checked that email again and she had another message for me, simply stated "CALL ME".
Okay, all caps get my attention, so I call her. She is basically laughing her fanny off from the time I say hello. She tells me this long winded story about how, the person who now has my old telephone extension is getting random messages for me (3 years after I left the place). It was a joke because they all assumed it was some bill collector. Then one day, the person at that extension picked up the phone and spoke to my mystery caller.
It was my old college roommate! My roomie from UT. We were the best roomies ever, peeps were jealous that we got along so great. We had the pimp room and would host movie marathon nights every Wednesday night (she was a film major).
We got separated because I got greedy and decided to live in the cleaner, more up to date all girls' dorm across campus (which I eventually got kicked out of for having a boy in my room--it was completely innocent! We were studying. Fo' real)
After I transferred back home to San Antonio, we still kept in touch and went on mini vacays to the coast. We were mad fun together.
Somehow the telephone calls dwindled and we never heard from each other.
Apparently she had sent many emails to my poser self on MySpace and never heard back from poser me. She remembered that the last time we spoke I worked at such and such and she remembered the extension! (The person there now doesn't have a personal voicemail message; she has the computerized automated outgoing message).
My old roomie gave her number to the girl to pass on to me.
Hence this long ass story.
Cut to half an hour ago: I called Old Roomie.
GET THIS!
ARE YOU READY?
REALLY READY?
WAIT FOR IT...
She lives here in Dallas! Down the road! Literally less than 5 minutes from me...all this time, well for year. But, still.
Can you believe it?
We could only speak for a few minutes because she is about to head out for an interview (we're both unemployed!!)
I cannot wait for her to call me back. Can you see me clapping my hands and jumping for joy...someone else to play with during the day! And reunited cause it feels so good.
I just cannot wait.
Oh and I am so joining MySpace, for real. Who else is looking for me?
Unless you want to share a scary story or warning so I don't, let me know.
Wednesday, September 13
Paying Attention
Some people don't think that I pay attention when speaking to them on the phone due to my lack of a timely response. It's not true. I just like to listen, take it in, and then respond. Unless you are calling me during Laguna Beach. HELLO. You should know better. Those bitches like to mumble and I have to pay attention to every word.
Hotlanta has a name it's short for William but not William for long. His parents named him the shorter of it. I think its odd.
He also has a job with the FBI. Uhm hmm. That FBI. Will I be censored or turned off from the internets for revealing that?
I think he looks like a young Paul Newman and has the cutest Southern/ Florida accent. My mom's friend also thinks he looks like a young Newman (and we think Paul Newman back in the day is HOT)
I've got eight messages from him saved on my voicemail. His "ma'ams" would make you melt. I never thought I'd like to be called ma'am, but he does it in a way that doesn't make me sound old. He just calls all women, ma'am.
And I am not older than him. He's 31. Single. Never married. No children.
He watches very little sports on TV. He only tunes in for his teams (University of Miami, The Heat...grrr, and some other Southern school teams). He is from northern Florida...hence the ma'am.
He tunes in for Grey's Anatomy, LOST, and Entourage because he feels like an idiot the next day at work because he cannot participate in conversations. He is now glad that he is hooked on all of them.
He started watching Queer Eye because he thought he could learn something.
HE has an iPOd. It's full of country, old school rap, and techno.
He runs everyday.
He leaves me messages asking me how my job search is coming; what did I cook today; check out such and such online; and my favorite: I have a lists of restaurants for us to check out.
(sigh)
Go through my stomach to get to my heart. Lesson number one.
He sends me text messages that read: Morning Texas; Who's winning Elisabeth or Rosie?; How is it that I watched 2 hours of dancing with stars. WTF Tucker Carlson ?!; and the one that has me still laughing: Yo, mTV Raps!
He thinks that's what I'm watching on MTV all day. Obviously, it's been awhile since he has been home during the day.
That's him. So far.
I am very nervous to get on that plane to Atlanta. I need to lose about eight pounds (in a week!) so I can shovel all the Southern Fried meals into my mouth. And he had talk of a pool...I think he has one. I wasn't paying attention to that one.
Other than that one time, I pay attention.
Hotlanta has a name it's short for William but not William for long. His parents named him the shorter of it. I think its odd.
He also has a job with the FBI. Uhm hmm. That FBI. Will I be censored or turned off from the internets for revealing that?
I think he looks like a young Paul Newman and has the cutest Southern/ Florida accent. My mom's friend also thinks he looks like a young Newman (and we think Paul Newman back in the day is HOT)
I've got eight messages from him saved on my voicemail. His "ma'ams" would make you melt. I never thought I'd like to be called ma'am, but he does it in a way that doesn't make me sound old. He just calls all women, ma'am.
And I am not older than him. He's 31. Single. Never married. No children.
He watches very little sports on TV. He only tunes in for his teams (University of Miami, The Heat...grrr, and some other Southern school teams). He is from northern Florida...hence the ma'am.
He tunes in for Grey's Anatomy, LOST, and Entourage because he feels like an idiot the next day at work because he cannot participate in conversations. He is now glad that he is hooked on all of them.
He started watching Queer Eye because he thought he could learn something.
HE has an iPOd. It's full of country, old school rap, and techno.
He runs everyday.
He leaves me messages asking me how my job search is coming; what did I cook today; check out such and such online; and my favorite: I have a lists of restaurants for us to check out.
(sigh)
Go through my stomach to get to my heart. Lesson number one.
He sends me text messages that read: Morning Texas; Who's winning Elisabeth or Rosie?; How is it that I watched 2 hours of dancing with stars. WTF Tucker Carlson ?!; and the one that has me still laughing: Yo, mTV Raps!
He thinks that's what I'm watching on MTV all day. Obviously, it's been awhile since he has been home during the day.
That's him. So far.
I am very nervous to get on that plane to Atlanta. I need to lose about eight pounds (in a week!) so I can shovel all the Southern Fried meals into my mouth. And he had talk of a pool...I think he has one. I wasn't paying attention to that one.
Other than that one time, I pay attention.
The Hours
I have a lot of hours in the middle of the day...a lot. Between the hours of 7 and 5 are the lonely hours.
I wake up, make breakfast, run/workout, watch the morning talk show circuit, cruise the internet, watch Martha Stewart, cruise the internet, watch Girlfriends, cruise the internet, make late lunch/early dinner, and after of hours of waiting it's 5pm and that means one of my friends is off of work and listen to me gab about the The View* or how I am secretly (not anymore) counting down until Rachael Ray gets to yell on her very own talk show. With a circular rotating set!!
YIPPEE for me, not so much for them.
I am starved for that human interaction. E-mails and texts are so blase. I need voices. I need face to face. But all I have are the hours. The hours are killing me.
Do you know what it's like to not speak to another human for eight hours?!?
My phone never rings during the day.
With the hundreds of resumes (and cover letters) I am sending out, you'd think my phone would at least ring three times a day.
Nope.
And when it does ring? It's some smirky salesman who noticed my resume on some site (it's posted on all of them) and thinks I'd be a great addition to his sales team. That person usually offers up the job on a big shiny platter of sweet promises of high earning potential and wouldn't it be great if I could earn $6000 a month!?!
YES.
All I have to do is sell insurance/boxes/publishing books to people who don't want or need that stuff...hmm.
All I have to do is meet this smirk at some warehouse address and all my job woes will be over because this could be my dream job and why aren't I there already?
Huh.
At least they call and that serves up at least twenty minutes of my day and assures me my phone does still accept outside callers.
And gives me somewhat of human interaction that I am craving. If you're my friend and wonder why it is that I tell you every detail of my day and sound so excited that you called, its because I am dying to speak. Talking to myself is getting old.
Why isn't anyone else calling? Like the legit job opportunities? The ones I have experience in and oh, uhm, a degree for...where are they? Why won't they call?
This month end is my goal. Or I'll need to seriously look into the moving costs to Phoenix. Yep. Yep.
My mom gave me the D.L. on this situation. I can't expect her to pay up my rent every month. I can't expect to keep living like this without a local unconditional support group. I can't afford it. Plain and simple.
For the love of Dallas, won't someone, please, please call me already?!?
*This has to be said. Since Rosie O'Donnell has started The View, there has been one good fight between her and Elisabeth. It was regarding gay marriage. I expected more from those two. Also has anyone else noticed that the show has taken a turn towards the "Rosie O'Donnell Show"?
Seriously.
She's given something away everyday. I am hearing the phrase 'cutie-patootie' and countless stories of her kids. She is talking about doing crafts on the show and inviting guests' mothers to come on and do some crafting with her. And there is the never ending promotions for Broadway and live Broadway performances.
Sound familiar?
Shoot, if I didn't know any better, I'd swear it was 1997 and she only gained 3 sidekicks and kicked the piano man to the curb. (what was his name? where'd he go?)
I wake up, make breakfast, run/workout, watch the morning talk show circuit, cruise the internet, watch Martha Stewart, cruise the internet, watch Girlfriends, cruise the internet, make late lunch/early dinner, and after of hours of waiting it's 5pm and that means one of my friends is off of work and listen to me gab about the The View* or how I am secretly (not anymore) counting down until Rachael Ray gets to yell on her very own talk show. With a circular rotating set!!
YIPPEE for me, not so much for them.
I am starved for that human interaction. E-mails and texts are so blase. I need voices. I need face to face. But all I have are the hours. The hours are killing me.
Do you know what it's like to not speak to another human for eight hours?!?
My phone never rings during the day.
With the hundreds of resumes (and cover letters) I am sending out, you'd think my phone would at least ring three times a day.
Nope.
And when it does ring? It's some smirky salesman who noticed my resume on some site (it's posted on all of them) and thinks I'd be a great addition to his sales team. That person usually offers up the job on a big shiny platter of sweet promises of high earning potential and wouldn't it be great if I could earn $6000 a month!?!
YES.
All I have to do is sell insurance/boxes/publishing books to people who don't want or need that stuff...hmm.
All I have to do is meet this smirk at some warehouse address and all my job woes will be over because this could be my dream job and why aren't I there already?
Huh.
At least they call and that serves up at least twenty minutes of my day and assures me my phone does still accept outside callers.
And gives me somewhat of human interaction that I am craving. If you're my friend and wonder why it is that I tell you every detail of my day and sound so excited that you called, its because I am dying to speak. Talking to myself is getting old.
Why isn't anyone else calling? Like the legit job opportunities? The ones I have experience in and oh, uhm, a degree for...where are they? Why won't they call?
This month end is my goal. Or I'll need to seriously look into the moving costs to Phoenix. Yep. Yep.
My mom gave me the D.L. on this situation. I can't expect her to pay up my rent every month. I can't expect to keep living like this without a local unconditional support group. I can't afford it. Plain and simple.
For the love of Dallas, won't someone, please, please call me already?!?
*This has to be said. Since Rosie O'Donnell has started The View, there has been one good fight between her and Elisabeth. It was regarding gay marriage. I expected more from those two. Also has anyone else noticed that the show has taken a turn towards the "Rosie O'Donnell Show"?
Seriously.
She's given something away everyday. I am hearing the phrase 'cutie-patootie' and countless stories of her kids. She is talking about doing crafts on the show and inviting guests' mothers to come on and do some crafting with her. And there is the never ending promotions for Broadway and live Broadway performances.
Sound familiar?
Shoot, if I didn't know any better, I'd swear it was 1997 and she only gained 3 sidekicks and kicked the piano man to the curb. (what was his name? where'd he go?)
Tuesday, September 12
Because Ramen Can Get Boring
Pizza, Pizza
1 Totinos Pizza*--your favorite, any size.
1 onion sliced
olive oil
goat cheese
Follow the Totinos directions. While the oven is preheating/pizza baking. Carmelize the onions in a pot with olive oil. This usually takes 20 minutes. The same length of time the pizza is in the oven. When pizza is finished, top with onions and goat cheese.
Enjoy.
*I'm a three meat Totinos gal myself.
1 Totinos Pizza*--your favorite, any size.
1 onion sliced
olive oil
goat cheese
Follow the Totinos directions. While the oven is preheating/pizza baking. Carmelize the onions in a pot with olive oil. This usually takes 20 minutes. The same length of time the pizza is in the oven. When pizza is finished, top with onions and goat cheese.
Enjoy.
*I'm a three meat Totinos gal myself.
Wait. A. Second
This morning, I read this.
I know. Yesterday's news.
But let me tell you how I avoided all news yesterday because I knew it would be sad recounts of what happened five years ago. I didn't want to view the actual real time re-broadcasts, again. Been there, done that. Must we re-view it?
Anyways I heard of Daniel's death this morning. I read the article and my thought was: She was pregnant?
I am not taking away from her loss. I think it is such a tear jerking tragedy when a parent has to bury a child. I think that is the worst. Any death is sad to me.
And Daniel was super fun, as I remember from her reality show. He was the 'parent' in some (most) episodes. I felt for him. You could tell that he was sometimes embarrassed by his mother's antics.
Sheesh, I'd hide under a blanket if my mom starred in her own reality series.
This past Saturday we were at a particularly high end store and because the shoe on sale wasn't available in her size, she had a hissy with the sales associate and asked for a raincheck.
What? Yes. When he told us they don't do rainchecks, my mom replied with: This store is dumb.
I wanted to hide.
But.
Anna Nicole was pregnant? And why did she choose to have the baby in the Bahamas? What was up with that? Is Bobby Trendy the daddy?
As you can tell only the important stuff interests me.
I know. Yesterday's news.
But let me tell you how I avoided all news yesterday because I knew it would be sad recounts of what happened five years ago. I didn't want to view the actual real time re-broadcasts, again. Been there, done that. Must we re-view it?
Anyways I heard of Daniel's death this morning. I read the article and my thought was: She was pregnant?
I am not taking away from her loss. I think it is such a tear jerking tragedy when a parent has to bury a child. I think that is the worst. Any death is sad to me.
And Daniel was super fun, as I remember from her reality show. He was the 'parent' in some (most) episodes. I felt for him. You could tell that he was sometimes embarrassed by his mother's antics.
Sheesh, I'd hide under a blanket if my mom starred in her own reality series.
This past Saturday we were at a particularly high end store and because the shoe on sale wasn't available in her size, she had a hissy with the sales associate and asked for a raincheck.
What? Yes. When he told us they don't do rainchecks, my mom replied with: This store is dumb.
I wanted to hide.
But.
Anna Nicole was pregnant? And why did she choose to have the baby in the Bahamas? What was up with that? Is Bobby Trendy the daddy?
As you can tell only the important stuff interests me.
Monday, September 11
DELETED
Yeah I have never deleted anyone from my phone before.
Now it has been done.
Cupcake has been eaten and spit out in the trash, or I should say the recycling bin.
I basically told her that it is ridiculous to bail out on a trip, especially when it is just two people, three days before departure. It gives me no time to find another to with instead. She pretty much made the decision for me if I was going to Chicago. Seriously it is cheaper for me to stay home. For that, I am pissed.
Then at the end of the conversation she had the nerve to ask: "Am I still your friend?"
Knowing me, I know this is not the last we will hear of her (sad, I know, but true) and I am too kind to just evict her from the island. And we have a mutual friend, who I won't pull into this drama, so I am sure I will see the Cupcake, again.
But her number has been deleted, so she can only call me because I ain't calling her. Ever. Again.
Now we can get back to our regularly scheduled drama.
Now it has been done.
Cupcake has been eaten and spit out in the trash, or I should say the recycling bin.
I basically told her that it is ridiculous to bail out on a trip, especially when it is just two people, three days before departure. It gives me no time to find another to with instead. She pretty much made the decision for me if I was going to Chicago. Seriously it is cheaper for me to stay home. For that, I am pissed.
Then at the end of the conversation she had the nerve to ask: "Am I still your friend?"
Knowing me, I know this is not the last we will hear of her (sad, I know, but true) and I am too kind to just evict her from the island. And we have a mutual friend, who I won't pull into this drama, so I am sure I will see the Cupcake, again.
But her number has been deleted, so she can only call me because I ain't calling her. Ever. Again.
Now we can get back to our regularly scheduled drama.
Whatever
Are you sick of reading about this? I am sick of discussing it...especially when there are many other things going on in the world...just not my life.
Sunday, I received the inevitable text message from Cupcake:
I cannot go to Chicago because I can't find anyone to watch Lovee. Maybe we can do spa day on Thursday?
Lovee--her new dog. When I suggested her taking to the pet day care (like I did so many times when I had a dog and traveled); she said that was not an option since they are in the middle of housetraining. I can deal with that. Buuuut...she's had the dog awhile and to me that excuse could have been brought up like last week.
Thursday Spa Day--What the? I'd (we'd) be in Chicago that day.
It is okay to back out of a trip when its a group, but not 2 people. Who does that?
When I spoke to her she was under the assumption that since she was unable to go we'd reschedule the trip for a later date. Is she crazy? I am never planning anything with her, ever, again.
But her backing out was foreseen (by us all) last week and she wants out on Sunday?? Three days before the trip.
I am almost convinced that she never did buy the ticket to begin with.
Then it hit me, she was half-right. It is cheaper for me not to go than go alone to Chicago.
Then I got mad. But I was on the plane coming back to Texas. When I landed I texted her if she could discuss this tomorrow? (today) She said yes.
Believe me, she is getting a mouth-full starting with the original cupcake dillema all the way to this.
Sunday, I received the inevitable text message from Cupcake:
I cannot go to Chicago because I can't find anyone to watch Lovee. Maybe we can do spa day on Thursday?
Lovee--her new dog. When I suggested her taking to the pet day care (like I did so many times when I had a dog and traveled); she said that was not an option since they are in the middle of housetraining. I can deal with that. Buuuut...she's had the dog awhile and to me that excuse could have been brought up like last week.
Thursday Spa Day--What the? I'd (we'd) be in Chicago that day.
It is okay to back out of a trip when its a group, but not 2 people. Who does that?
When I spoke to her she was under the assumption that since she was unable to go we'd reschedule the trip for a later date. Is she crazy? I am never planning anything with her, ever, again.
But her backing out was foreseen (by us all) last week and she wants out on Sunday?? Three days before the trip.
I am almost convinced that she never did buy the ticket to begin with.
Then it hit me, she was half-right. It is cheaper for me not to go than go alone to Chicago.
Then I got mad. But I was on the plane coming back to Texas. When I landed I texted her if she could discuss this tomorrow? (today) She said yes.
Believe me, she is getting a mouth-full starting with the original cupcake dillema all the way to this.
Saturday, September 9
She's Just Crumbs Now
One thing is for sure: I am going to Chicago.
I decided to stop calling, texting, and emailing Cupcake. It is only stressing me out.
And do I need her for this trip?
No.
I can do it alone. The only upset will be paying the full hotel bill.
But it can be done.
So why am I stressing?
I did San Francisco on my own for one day.
I've done Houston, Lubbock, and Austin on my own. Granted, those were business trips, but still I was eating dinners and taking little touring trips on my own.
If I make it to Chicago alone, it will be a challenge, because I do want to hit some bars. Other than that, it's all about shopping and sightseeing. Those can be done solo, right?
And if she does come along...
I am taking my running shoes and clothes. Each morning I'm running that lake path and taking in the city morning hustle and bustle (my fave), doing my own thing, to have the time to me and my favorite city. To sit along the lakeshore. Enjoy the views. Eat at any of the diners. Take in a non-coffee drink at a cafe. To sit amongst the city grit in a park. Read. People watch. Enjoy the pre-Fall crisp in the air. To have my calm before meeting back up with her.
(note: I plan all on all that whether or not she is with me)
When we get back? A number will be erased from my phone. For the first time ever.
I decided to stop calling, texting, and emailing Cupcake. It is only stressing me out.
And do I need her for this trip?
No.
I can do it alone. The only upset will be paying the full hotel bill.
But it can be done.
So why am I stressing?
I did San Francisco on my own for one day.
I've done Houston, Lubbock, and Austin on my own. Granted, those were business trips, but still I was eating dinners and taking little touring trips on my own.
If I make it to Chicago alone, it will be a challenge, because I do want to hit some bars. Other than that, it's all about shopping and sightseeing. Those can be done solo, right?
And if she does come along...
I am taking my running shoes and clothes. Each morning I'm running that lake path and taking in the city morning hustle and bustle (my fave), doing my own thing, to have the time to me and my favorite city. To sit along the lakeshore. Enjoy the views. Eat at any of the diners. Take in a non-coffee drink at a cafe. To sit amongst the city grit in a park. Read. People watch. Enjoy the pre-Fall crisp in the air. To have my calm before meeting back up with her.
(note: I plan all on all that whether or not she is with me)
When we get back? A number will be erased from my phone. For the first time ever.
Friday, September 8
Anyone Want to Go to Chicago?
As I typed that last post, little did I know, I had a surprise waiting for me in my inbox. Lo and behold, word for word, what Cupcake emailed me:
Do you want to go to Chicago ? It is okay if you don’t want to go- I don’t know if I am just feeling low- but it really doesn’t interest me- but maybe you can get me excited!
What does this tell you?
Motorscooter.
I am going to hurt her.
Do you want to go to Chicago ? It is okay if you don’t want to go- I don’t know if I am just feeling low- but it really doesn’t interest me- but maybe you can get me excited!
What does this tell you?
Motorscooter.
I am going to hurt her.
Updates
I thought it may be time for some updates.
Cupcake: You'd think since I am thousands of miles away, the girl would just chill? Here is our (her) new problem: We leave for Chicago next Wednesday.
What? What is that I just said?? Yeah...
The trip was planned months ago when I had a job and when she was chill. Everything is taken care of. When I say everything, that means flight, hotel, and a general idea of our itinerary.
It's cool. All we need to do is get on a plane and go.
From the airport drama, I naturally wasn't 100% looking forward to it. Can you blame me? But, it's Chicago! HELLO. I'm not about to let some teeny little drama get in my way. Or maybe not...
You see, we may have to knock Cupcake off as the most paranoid person on Earth. Seriously.
When I was gambling it up and having a great time in Vegas, she was sending me a text message.
We have been here and done this, specifically last week. Uhm hmm.
She is asking the same type of dumb questions: 'What will we be doing?'; 'Can we walk to such and such from such and such'; 'What's H&M?'; 'What time do we need to get to the airport?'; and my favorite: 'Are you still going because I don't think you can afford it'
WHAT? THE? FUCK? Yep, it is worth the cuss.
Who is she to be telling me what I can and cannot afford? The trip has been paid for since May and if it was such a big concern for her, why is she worried about it now, a week before we leave.
I wrote her a long and strongly worded email telling her what to stick up her paranoid butt. She replied that she is confused because she thinks that I may be spending the cash here (in Phoenix) and won't be able to afford Chicago.
Makes no sense.
She is so getting voted off the island, if we make it past Chicago, because I will seriously hurt her if she backs out. Seriously.
Bruiser/JJ/Bossy: I call him Bossy, as it's my nickname for him and what I call him to his face. Y'all know him as Bruiser, formerly known as JJ. Yeah, yeah the one with the girlfriend or whatever the heck it is and the parents/family/friends who love me. He texts me ALL. THE. TIME. It's nice because it's things like: 'Sweetie', 'Babe', 'Miss You', 'Hope you are having fun', 'Can't wait for you to be back'
We basically stand nowhere at this moment. It's all a bunch of sweet messages.
Trombone: YIPEE! We finally got rid of him and his homophobic comments. I'm sorry but just a teeny weeny bit of hater comments and you are out of here.
(Not So) Incredible: What is it about ex-boyfriends that they never seem to really be gone? And if it was flipped around I would be considered the psycho ex who couldn't let go? WHY?
Hotlanta: The newest nickname for the posting. He is just hot, hottie, hot. I can tell you I am a wee bit nervous to go to Atlanta; but all the Cupcake drama has taken my focus away from that. Seriously. What was I thinking? And I've never been to Atlanta. New town? And I only know him? Someone is going to need to push me onto the plane.
Lindsay Lohan/Paris Hilton/Tom Cruise: Oh. Jeez. Can we quit it already? Why is that all the celebrity drama seems to be focused on this trifecta? I miss the days when it was just Bennifer (the original). Now its this one getting a DUI; stolen luggage at the airport--with jewels; not showing up to work on time; dueling with each other; and baby pictures. Is it just me? or are we sick of them? I want to call bullshit on some of it. I always thought that Paris created all her drama for the media attention. Look at all the crap that happens to her and she still comes out looking for more. I honestly think that Lindsay couldn't take that Paris was getting all the attention for that DUI and decided to make a bag full of jewels disappear. And Tom? Oh gosh, what can I say. That baby looks like her daddy. And the pictures are so so so freaking cute! and so not what I expected? Weren't we expecting an alien child?
Cupcake: You'd think since I am thousands of miles away, the girl would just chill? Here is our (her) new problem: We leave for Chicago next Wednesday.
What? What is that I just said?? Yeah...
The trip was planned months ago when I had a job and when she was chill. Everything is taken care of. When I say everything, that means flight, hotel, and a general idea of our itinerary.
It's cool. All we need to do is get on a plane and go.
From the airport drama, I naturally wasn't 100% looking forward to it. Can you blame me? But, it's Chicago! HELLO. I'm not about to let some teeny little drama get in my way. Or maybe not...
You see, we may have to knock Cupcake off as the most paranoid person on Earth. Seriously.
When I was gambling it up and having a great time in Vegas, she was sending me a text message.
We have been here and done this, specifically last week. Uhm hmm.
She is asking the same type of dumb questions: 'What will we be doing?'; 'Can we walk to such and such from such and such'; 'What's H&M?'; 'What time do we need to get to the airport?'; and my favorite: 'Are you still going because I don't think you can afford it'
WHAT? THE? FUCK? Yep, it is worth the cuss.
Who is she to be telling me what I can and cannot afford? The trip has been paid for since May and if it was such a big concern for her, why is she worried about it now, a week before we leave.
I wrote her a long and strongly worded email telling her what to stick up her paranoid butt. She replied that she is confused because she thinks that I may be spending the cash here (in Phoenix) and won't be able to afford Chicago.
Makes no sense.
She is so getting voted off the island, if we make it past Chicago, because I will seriously hurt her if she backs out. Seriously.
Bruiser/JJ/Bossy: I call him Bossy, as it's my nickname for him and what I call him to his face. Y'all know him as Bruiser, formerly known as JJ. Yeah, yeah the one with the girlfriend or whatever the heck it is and the parents/family/friends who love me. He texts me ALL. THE. TIME. It's nice because it's things like: 'Sweetie', 'Babe', 'Miss You', 'Hope you are having fun', 'Can't wait for you to be back'
We basically stand nowhere at this moment. It's all a bunch of sweet messages.
Trombone: YIPEE! We finally got rid of him and his homophobic comments. I'm sorry but just a teeny weeny bit of hater comments and you are out of here.
(Not So) Incredible: What is it about ex-boyfriends that they never seem to really be gone? And if it was flipped around I would be considered the psycho ex who couldn't let go? WHY?
Hotlanta: The newest nickname for the posting. He is just hot, hottie, hot. I can tell you I am a wee bit nervous to go to Atlanta; but all the Cupcake drama has taken my focus away from that. Seriously. What was I thinking? And I've never been to Atlanta. New town? And I only know him? Someone is going to need to push me onto the plane.
Lindsay Lohan/Paris Hilton/Tom Cruise: Oh. Jeez. Can we quit it already? Why is that all the celebrity drama seems to be focused on this trifecta? I miss the days when it was just Bennifer (the original). Now its this one getting a DUI; stolen luggage at the airport--with jewels; not showing up to work on time; dueling with each other; and baby pictures. Is it just me? or are we sick of them? I want to call bullshit on some of it. I always thought that Paris created all her drama for the media attention. Look at all the crap that happens to her and she still comes out looking for more. I honestly think that Lindsay couldn't take that Paris was getting all the attention for that DUI and decided to make a bag full of jewels disappear. And Tom? Oh gosh, what can I say. That baby looks like her daddy. And the pictures are so so so freaking cute! and so not what I expected? Weren't we expecting an alien child?
Wednesday, September 6
Just a Recipe
Since I ate more than my body weight and drank like a fish while in Vegas, this week shall be cupcake-free and dedicated to the salad:
Tuna and Strawberry Salad
1 bunch of spinach, chopped
about 10 strawberries, hulled and sliced
1 small can of sliced olives
1/4 of a red onion thinly sliced
1 can/pack of tuna
salt and pepper
extra virgin olive oil
Combine all in a bowl, mix it up, drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper. Eat it and enjoy.
Yes, tuna and strawberries. I didn't think so at first either but experimented with it and voila! Yummy goodness.
Someone suggested cherry tomatoes to add to the salad, but I have an odd tomato complex when it comes to me handling the food.
Tuna and Strawberry Salad
1 bunch of spinach, chopped
about 10 strawberries, hulled and sliced
1 small can of sliced olives
1/4 of a red onion thinly sliced
1 can/pack of tuna
salt and pepper
extra virgin olive oil
Combine all in a bowl, mix it up, drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper. Eat it and enjoy.
Yes, tuna and strawberries. I didn't think so at first either but experimented with it and voila! Yummy goodness.
Someone suggested cherry tomatoes to add to the salad, but I have an odd tomato complex when it comes to me handling the food.
Tuesday, September 5
Viva Vegas!
First things first: I took the Super Shuttle to the airport and shook off the airport drama with Cupcake...I needed to enjoy my time here and not worry about her. I can tell you a very long worded email was sent her way today because as you know it, something else came up. UGH.
I'll let y'all in on it another post.
I did go to Vegas this past weekend. I was reluctant to at first. Because who wants their first trip to Vegas to be with their mother and her friends celebrating one of their birthdays? Not me.
Especially when all the birthday girl wanted to do was eat at the Cheesecake Factory. In Vegas.
WTF?
Don't get me wrong I like that place but come on, Vegas? When there are ten thousand other eateries that are unique to Vegas and I am eating mass produced cheesecake?
Oh. Well.
Then we gambled. Oh, how I love me some roulette. Too bad it doesn't love me. The only things at that table the loved me were: the dealer, the older men (I have some serious cleavage), the cocktail waitress, and my new friend, who will call, Hotlanta.
Hotlanta was the hottest youngest thing at my table and he kept making eyes at me and piggy backing my bets.
Around midnight my mom and her coven decided to call it a night (hello, we're in Vegas?!?!). When she left he made his move.
It was cheesy. But he was hot and offered to take me to Pure...so...what could I do?
Wearing my shorts, tee, and flip flops I joined all the other people dressed to the nines at the club.
Next thing I know I woke up curled up on a bench with my head on Hotlanta's lap in the Caesar's square. Oy. It was 5:30AM.
We took in a buffet (best breakfast yet) and re-joined the table where we met at Treasure Island.
My mom came down at 10:00 and was shocked to the wall that I was still in the same seat, same clothes, same drink (love the Bloody Marys), same guy.
I didn't have the guts to tell her that I just came back from acting like a homeless person on a city bench.
The rest of the day I was up and down on roulette. Hotlanta came and went and came back with his friends. My mom and her pals were all about the free shows and would hop around waiting to take them in.
Later I had to say toodles and meet my mom for "O".
Best. Show. On. Earth.
No joke.
I was so mesmerized I had no idea where to look on stage. The water, the acrobats, the clowns, and even the orchestra: AMAZING.
I'd see it again.
After the show, you can guess where I went.
I am consistent.
It took Hotlanta and his friends luring me with Tryst promises to get me off the table.
(and my mom and her friends were too pooped to party. It was like I was in Vegas alone)
But...Tryst was at Wynn and had a long line, so I found another roulette table. Cannot kept me down. Ha.
Don't worry I went into Tryst and it was not all that (or maybe that's because I was up $400 from $35 on the table and had the itch to gamble it some more).
When we left Tryst (finally) I was back at a table, Hotlanta in tow.
He made the betting a wee bit more interesting...
He was up on his bets. I was down however much money people kept giving me (oh how much fun it is to be a girl at a roulette table in Vegas) and had a total of $15 cash on me.
He told me to keep betting my end, duh, and when he wins, we'd walk away, go hit another casino and we could keep winning/gambling the bank back to New York, New York where he was staying (oh my gosh how come no one told me how long the strip is...holy crap, the other end was like another city)
So if we kept winning our way back to his hotel, he'd buy me a plane ticket to Atlanta.
The key here is that we'd go in, bet only what we won for the black square (which I swear was the devil at one point), leave the hotel and onto the next, so on and so on down the strip.
Ticket bought. I never made it as far to New York, New York...but I guess I'll be in Atlanta in 2 weeks!
Oh and I entered the city of Vegas with $o in my wallet. I left with $273.
Now others would argue that I was really in the hole, but I think I made out the winner.
$273 when I had nothing to start with...come on. I'm ready to go back.
I swear my butt prints are still on my roulette seat.
I'll let y'all in on it another post.
I did go to Vegas this past weekend. I was reluctant to at first. Because who wants their first trip to Vegas to be with their mother and her friends celebrating one of their birthdays? Not me.
Especially when all the birthday girl wanted to do was eat at the Cheesecake Factory. In Vegas.
WTF?
Don't get me wrong I like that place but come on, Vegas? When there are ten thousand other eateries that are unique to Vegas and I am eating mass produced cheesecake?
Oh. Well.
Then we gambled. Oh, how I love me some roulette. Too bad it doesn't love me. The only things at that table the loved me were: the dealer, the older men (I have some serious cleavage), the cocktail waitress, and my new friend, who will call, Hotlanta.
Hotlanta was the hottest youngest thing at my table and he kept making eyes at me and piggy backing my bets.
Around midnight my mom and her coven decided to call it a night (hello, we're in Vegas?!?!). When she left he made his move.
It was cheesy. But he was hot and offered to take me to Pure...so...what could I do?
Wearing my shorts, tee, and flip flops I joined all the other people dressed to the nines at the club.
Next thing I know I woke up curled up on a bench with my head on Hotlanta's lap in the Caesar's square. Oy. It was 5:30AM.
We took in a buffet (best breakfast yet) and re-joined the table where we met at Treasure Island.
My mom came down at 10:00 and was shocked to the wall that I was still in the same seat, same clothes, same drink (love the Bloody Marys), same guy.
I didn't have the guts to tell her that I just came back from acting like a homeless person on a city bench.
The rest of the day I was up and down on roulette. Hotlanta came and went and came back with his friends. My mom and her pals were all about the free shows and would hop around waiting to take them in.
Later I had to say toodles and meet my mom for "O".
Best. Show. On. Earth.
No joke.
I was so mesmerized I had no idea where to look on stage. The water, the acrobats, the clowns, and even the orchestra: AMAZING.
I'd see it again.
After the show, you can guess where I went.
I am consistent.
It took Hotlanta and his friends luring me with Tryst promises to get me off the table.
(and my mom and her friends were too pooped to party. It was like I was in Vegas alone)
But...Tryst was at Wynn and had a long line, so I found another roulette table. Cannot kept me down. Ha.
Don't worry I went into Tryst and it was not all that (or maybe that's because I was up $400 from $35 on the table and had the itch to gamble it some more).
When we left Tryst (finally) I was back at a table, Hotlanta in tow.
He made the betting a wee bit more interesting...
He was up on his bets. I was down however much money people kept giving me (oh how much fun it is to be a girl at a roulette table in Vegas) and had a total of $15 cash on me.
He told me to keep betting my end, duh, and when he wins, we'd walk away, go hit another casino and we could keep winning/gambling the bank back to New York, New York where he was staying (oh my gosh how come no one told me how long the strip is...holy crap, the other end was like another city)
So if we kept winning our way back to his hotel, he'd buy me a plane ticket to Atlanta.
The key here is that we'd go in, bet only what we won for the black square (which I swear was the devil at one point), leave the hotel and onto the next, so on and so on down the strip.
Ticket bought. I never made it as far to New York, New York...but I guess I'll be in Atlanta in 2 weeks!
Oh and I entered the city of Vegas with $o in my wallet. I left with $273.
Now others would argue that I was really in the hole, but I think I made out the winner.
$273 when I had nothing to start with...come on. I'm ready to go back.
I swear my butt prints are still on my roulette seat.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
