lovely surprises!

We spent the past weekend in Lopez Island in the San Juan Islands enjoying gorgeous views like this:

I have stories and pictures to share later, but I will just say I was surprised by a few things.... like, I *heart* private beaches (read: no tan lines)! Well, that's not really so surprising but I just wanted to make y'all jealous.

Oh, and SURPRISE: I don't do well with bossy Type A females who are probably a lot like me but obviously I'm less obnoxious because duh, I'm awesome.

Saturday evening, while Joe and I were enjoying the sunset and a lovely dinner, I received an email from my hilarious mom who had her own lovely surprise.

I have something crazy to share :) David and I were sitting at our fire table, under the 100 foot evergreen tree that comes through our deck, just finishing up dinner, when suddenly a giant half eaten catfish bounced heavily off David's head and landed with a splashy muddy plop on his plate. I kid you not. We then noticed the crows flying around and causing trouble. They must have made the eagle in the tree above us drop his dinner! In the words of your cousin Isaac, "THAT doesn't happen every day!"

Yes, that is seriously a half eaten catfish that fell from an eagle's talons to my dad's dinner plate.

Well, apparently it hit him on the head first.    

Can you imagine???

One of the lovely perks (surprises) that comes along with living in the gorgeous Pacific Northwest.

Tomorrow, I'm off to San Diego bright and early for work. I asked Joe if he would take me to the airport for shits and giggles. (BTW is that an expression anyone else uses? Just me?) I have to be there by 6:00am so I naturally assumed he'd so say no way jose but I must be a really good girl because he agreed. And I was surprised! Especially since there's no way I would take him to the airport that early, and I told him as much.

I KNOW, I KNOW, I'm terrible... and some of you bloggers are like crazy wake up at 4:00am for workout peeps and 6:00am is like sleeping in. For shame.

Anyway... see how I tied this totally random post all together??!! *so proud of myself right meow*

how rude!

Forgot to mention in today's random post in which i do not speak of pee or poo..., before I went to New Orleans for the Ace show I HAD to get a hair cut... it had been over six months and was getting gross-long.

Like Ashley, I'm very attached to my long hair and I really hate getting it cut. But... I hate spending money getting my hair cut even more... probably because it's so simple even my tipsy mom in Cabo a monkey could do it...

So the day before we left for the show I went to Great Clips on my lunch break. Classy, I know... I sit down and tell her I want only the ends trimmed. I always say this so that when they cut 2" I don't freak out, because you know when you say 2" it ends up being 5"... maybe it's a language issue? I don't know, but it's frickin' annoying.

Anywhoodles, no sooner do I sit down then the asian lady about to butcher my hair goes:

"OOOhhh, you have white HEH" (I'm pretty sure she was trying to say I have GRAY HAIRS... but "gray" must be a tough word to say?)

"Really b*tch? I wasn't aware."

No, I didn't say that... I said... "NO TIP FOW YOU"

That's a lie. Didn't say that either... really wanted to though... Seriously, who does that!

In the words of Stephanie Tanner, "HOW RUDE!"

Speaking of rude, did anyone watch Grey's Anatomy last night? You know, the episode in which Alex Karev's brother comes into town and needs his umbilical hernia repaired? Well I have an umbilical hernia. A couple years ago I felt something rip playing softball... and yeah, it wasn't fun. It is not and never has been as bad as this:

image source.

In fact, it's barely noticable... See it in the picture below?

However, they never go away on their own and it's possible it will just get worse.

Basically, I eventually have to have surgery on it. I'm no stranger to surgery - I'm at 5 and counting - but I am really not looking forward to this one because (1) I can't find a doctor who will agree to do it laproscopically, in other words I will have a big ol' scar on my tummy, and (2) it means no physical activity for a month. Anyway, so I'm in procrastination mode on that one.

But how did this come up? Oh yes, I was speaking of rude.

So my grandpa (you know, the one from TMI Thursday the other week?) is a retired doctor. I asked him what caused the hernia and if there was anything I could do to make it go away.

He told me... well it's probably because you're fat and it might go away if you lose weight.

Pmmf... Whatever he's senile and almost deaf, and now I'm thinking he may be going blind too :-)

But seriously, thanks Grandpa! I know you were never the King of Kindness or anything, but truly, your medical advice is very much appreciated. I'll get right on that...

just say no to auto flush

hello from NOLA - or for the abbreviation challenged, that's new orleans.

aaah, brings back memories from a 4 day binger at mardis gras lovely trip in college. but now in my grown up life i'm here for work, specifically slinging locking mailboxes at the ace hardware show for the family business. actually alot more fun than it sounds. anywhoodles...

so the convention center here has these "nifty" auto-flush toilets. oooh snazzy... yeah until i used one a few times today...

the verdict is in: i am decidedly anti auto-flush toilet. 

reason #1: i think they're supposed to save water and all, and don't get me wrong... i'm all about saving the earth... seriously, i am. but heRRo! news flash: they don't save water. think about it... has this happened to you? you sit to potty and then before you're even done it surprise flushes? four times? unnecessary. (kinda like the 3rd "hurricane" last night and the convention center jumbalaya.)

reason #2: auto-flush toilets (especially in new orleans apparently?) are super aggressive. when the toilet decides to prematurely do its thing, you get splashed (SO gross) by dirty toilet water. lesson here? potty time with auto flush toilets includes a fun game of sit - stand to avoid being splashed - sit - repeat. fun times.

reason #3: auto-flush toilets pretty much preclude any opportunities for sexy time in the bathroom. just completely takes all the romance out of it. so distracting also. not that i would know because i'm far too classy for sexy time in public bathroom stalls... but just, hypothetically.. ya know?

conclusion: let me flush the damn toilet when i am good and ready. mmkay? thanks!

oh, and here's an elephant using a toilet, just for fun:

i *heart* elephants. they're so dang smart... surely they say no to auto-flush too.

rainbow parties??

So 13 year old brother comes home the other night and tells my mom all the cool kids are having "rainbow parties" and he's not invited.

How this kid is not "cool" I have no idea:

8th graders are like pirhannas, or termites, or some vicious grotesque cannibalistic animals... that's for certain. I can't believe some of the shit they post on FB.. but I'm getting off track. Back to "rainbow parties"

What are they? Oh, please... let me explain.

A rainbow party is when several "cool" girls where lipstick according to the colors of the rainbow: We're talking ROY-G-BIV lipstick. Then.. they give the appointed "cool" guy a rainbow on his PENIS!!!!

SERIOUSLY???

First of all, WTF??? What is wrong with children today? And yes, I consider 13 year old children.

Secondly, logistically speaking I'm stumped. We're talking a 13 year old boy here. How is his penis even large enough to accomodate the ROY-G-BIV rainbow??

Thirdly, THANK GOD my brother isn't a "cool" kid.

And when I have kids, I'll be certain to warn them of these rainbow parties.

Scratch that. If they're girls they'll be under lock-and-key. Save that girl on girl stuff for college, thank you very much.

And nobody looks good in green lipstick.

bodily functions in san fran, ctd.

So last week I graced you with the poopy part of san fran. If you have not read yet, please do...and as Miss Ashley of Kiwis and Cocktails said, bring a barf bag. (Thanks, Ash!)

Today you get our story from Friday night. It involves the other primary toilet function #1. Not really. Well, kindove.

So Friday evening, after Joe and I have walked several miles, we finally make our way to the evening's destination: The Punch Line Comedy Club San Francisco.

We get there early and I, of course, insist on sitting at a table in the front row.

Front row at comedy clubs brings me back to Wednesday nights at the Coogee Bay Comedy Club in Sydney and the time I was pulled up on stage and instructed to jump up and down... aah, that's another story.

Anyway, Back to San Fran... So I sit myself down front and center. Joe protests heavily, sitting several tables away for approximately 57 seconds before he realizes I am not moving. He begrudgingly joins me, saying "this is a very bad idea..."

We order a round of Coors Lights and wait patiently for the first act for a few minutes. Then, adult ADD sets in and we begin self photo shoot marathon:

After Take 47 Joe is bored of this game, so we move on to Hang Man.

Luckily we find some handy dandy scraps of yellow paper on the table... the front says something or other about subscribing to some email list... yaddah yaddah. More junk mail? Thanks, but no thanks.

The backside, however, is nice and blank.

Proceed Hang Man Round 1. 

I start and pick a nice easy word: _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Right off the bat Joe gets _ E _ _ A _ I O.

Seriously, who picks all vowels off the bat??!!!

It's FELLATIO!

Shit, balls. How did he guess it?? 

Quick thinking on my part and I have a new word. He doesn't get BELLAGIO and I win!!!! Hooray.

Proceed Hang Man Round 2. 

Joe's turn: _ _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _

Not bragging or anything, but I'm a avid crossword puzzler and got an 800 on my SAT Verbal, so I easily guess GOLDEN SHOWER in a few turns... (I remember covering that one back in Junior Year, for sure) and we order another round of Coors Lights. 

My turn: _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Joe gets: 

NECROPHILIA !!! He exclaims. (Apparently that shit's exciting to him.) A few heads turn. The opener hasn't come on yet and it's still pretty quiet.

Alright, my turn again: _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Joe gets: C _ N N _ _ _ N _ _ _

He's apparently stumped. Really??? Well that's just great! I am about to give my opinion on this when the opener comes on. Joe is visibly relieved.

The comedians are pretty funny. I'm amused. We both have another round of Coors Lights, and then the headliner Al Madrigal comes on. We order one more Coors Light for good measure, to share...

Don't judge: there was a 2 drink/person minimum, we were on vacation, and bottled domestics were the only drink under $5. For shame.

This guy Al Madrigal was picking on a few people in the crowd... but not too bad. He mostly picked on the flaming gay group next to us. The San Fran crowd likes gay jokes... surprise!

It seems we're in the clear when there comes a pause in the act, and out of nowhere the comedian snatches my little yellow paper off our table.

Phew... he is just asking the audience to fill out his little thingers. Apparently you might win a CD of him, but wait.. there's more... you get free SPAM for life. (Sign me up!)

Then... he saw the back:

"Oh great. THIS COUPLE has decided to denigrate my property!"

Denigrate? Property? Really?? Not sure about your word choice, Mr. Madrigal.

He took one look at our table:

"I wonder what THEY'RE GOING TO DO TONIGHT??? Drinking Coors Lights? Getting all hot thinking about what they're gonna do later??? They're gonna go home and pee all over each other. Aren't YOU???"

In our defense, we did not, in fact, go home and pee on each other. Home was several hundred miles away.

BTW - Can you guess the word that stumped Joe? I sure hope so.

the poopy part of san francisco

We spent the weekend in San Francisco. It was mostly all sunshine and rainbows :-) Delicious food and drinkys, swanky hotel, lots of walking, window shopping, and people watching...

... But some of the trip was pretty poopy... quite literally.

I haven't decided if this is even funny or not, but it is most definitely gross. Consider yourself warned. OK, here goes...

So it all started when Joe and I were looking at renting a condo from a lesbian couple who were originally from San Fran. We asked them to recommend some "non touristy" places to check out, and they suggested Polk Street. I distinctly remember they said be sure to avoid *some part* of Polk Street, which I wrote down on a little piece of paper that I promptly lost.

Well, Saturday morning Joe and I are feeling all spontaneous and decide to head to Polk Street.

We're hip. We're cool. We're fresh. We ain't no tourists!

So we start walking south on Market Street... and walking... and walking... Now we're at Polk.

"Joe, seriously stop pulling that map out every few seconds... you'll blow our cover!!!!"

I'm so distracted by chastising Joe for his excessive map consultation that I hardly notice there are now bars on all of the windows.

We pass a smoke shop, a strip club, a liquor store, a condemned vacant  building, the 57^th homeless person, a woman with oozing open sores all over her body moaning loudly in the threshold of a doorway...

We're REALLY in a bad part of town now. WTF... There was no warning on the map that said ghetto??

And then my tummy starts hurting. Bad.

Maybe I'm just sick to my stomach from the Crack & AIDS in the air feeling incredibly disturbed by all the sadness?? Nope.. that's not it.

"Umm, Joe... I need to use a bathroom."

"Well, honey..." (He pulls out his handy SF map for the seventeenth time.) "We have less than a mile until it should start cleaning up and then we can stop for lunch and use a bathroom."

"Umm, Joe, I have about 2 maybe 3 blocks in me."

Shit! There's nothing around... Now if I just had to #1, I would happily pop a squat in an alley with the rest of the San Fran homeless population.

*When in Rome* right?

However, I do not poopy in alleys.

Joe's walking faster than me now and almost doesn't see me duck into the Taco Bell on the corner. No, not because I am craving a 7-Layer Burrito. I have to go like right meow. I ask the cashier to buzz me into the bathroom. He informs me I'll have to use the men's room because the women's is "out of order".

Whatever, I'm not scurred. I've done my thing in plenty of men's rooms before. I open the door to the bathroom and immediately regret touching the door handle.

The overwhelming stench, OMG... There are blue plaid boxers in the trash... covered in shit. There is literally CRAP smeared all over the walls and there are turds... multiple pieces of human poop... on the floor. In fact, I just stepped on a piece of poopy.

Oh, my poor UGGS!!


You have got to be shitting me!

And the women's restroom is "out of order"?? WTF. What could possibly be worse than THIS?? I mean, short of someone having an abortion in there and clogging the toilet with the fetus, seriously.

I consider running away. Far, FAR AWAY. But then I realize that I probably won't make it without my undies ending up in a garbage somewhere.

I would be lying if I said I didn't seriously contemplate pooping on the floor. Really, it wouldn't have made any difference in the level of filth. However, I play the dodge the human feces game - like Hop Skotch, only more precarious - on my way to the toilet where I proceed to thank my lucky stars for CrossFit.

Yes, I'm an excellent squatter. Not even any splash-age, (thank God!)

No, I will not touch anything in this restroom, not even a seat cover (not that there were any to speak of)...

TMI yet?

Umm okay, I'll skip the rest of the shitty details. mwahahahaha.

But for your future reference, here is a little guide I made for you illustrating the Poopy Part of San Francisco:

*Made in Paint, yes I am skilled... cuz Photoshop is on my laptop for elitists. Click to enlarge and appreciate all the glorious details.

You're welcome.

Anyway, the rest of the day was all sparkles and rainbows and sunshine! Seriously. But this stuff is not nearly as exciting as a poopy Taco Bell.

Joe's "Crab Shack" at Fisherman's Wharf.

Homeless man "fishing" for change from a trash can.

Yes, I took a picture.

Funky car parked downtown.

PS: In case you were wondering, we have since learned that it is "not safe" south of California on Polk. I mean, for future reference and all... cause we just spent two hours of our life there last Saturday. No worries, we survived. It was a poopy adventure wonderful time. I would highly recommend it. To anyone.

does anyone read friday posts??

...because my thought is whenever I hit "publish" on a Friday, approximately three people will read it, including my mom. I forgive you, though, if this gets the "Mark as Read" - just sayin...

Anywayyy, I am NOT a morning person. Especially when I find gray hairs. Like this morning. TWO.

Tweezers please!!!

Do you ever run into people in the morning who are all chipper and perky and just feel annoyed?? Well I do, pretty much anytime I encounter one of these so-called "morning peeople" until 11:30am or so...

For example, this morning - after finding said gray hairs - Bondi and I are headed to the car when Miss Apartment Manager (M.A.M) uber-excitedly intercepts us in the foyer. Seriously, she must have had about 12 cups of coffee with happy pills.

M.A.M.: OOoohh, it's KLONDIKE!!!  His coat is soooooo gorgeous!!
Actually his name is Bondi. Whatever.
ME: Grumble.grumble.
M.A.M.: What do you feed him to make him so shiiiiiineeeyyy????
BTDub, at this point she is squealing. And ba-geezus, do you really want me to go into this??
ME: Dog food.

Actually, that's a lie. I just WANTED to say dog food. I actually mumbled a quick response and walked out the door mid-sentence calling "Have a nice day!" as an afterthought. **PHEW**

Anywayyy, it is Friday night and I am at home with Shiraz (yup, that's code for Yellow Tail :-) doing this while Mr. Joe is having "boy time". He just texted me to say he's coming home and I said 'Don't worry about it, I'm blogging' and you know what my silly Blackberry Bold on T-Mobile did?? It CHANGED "blogging" to "logging". The nerve!!!

Seriously? What decade are we in? Do people really use the gerund (oh, yes i did say gerund!) "logging" more than "blogging"? Why thank you, Blackberry, you're so much smarter than me!!!

*WTF* How is "blogging" not in the dictionary of a mobile phone in 2010? C'mon Blackberrry/T-Mobile. Get it together. Be professional.

PS: There are a shit-ton of other words the BB always changes on me while texting, but they're escaping me right meow. Must be el vino :-) Does this happen to you?

you win some, you lose some

I recently got a VPN from my laptop at home to my desktop at work, which is pretty awesome because it means sometimes I can work from home!!

Working from home = HUGE PLUS because:

(1) I get to skip the whole.. sitting in gridlock traffic thing that is so lovely in Seattle... member my rap about it?
(2) Excluding the usual gmail, facebook, blogger, etc. there are No distractions, so I actually get much more accomplished.
(3) I can catch up on laundry while I'm working.

While we're on the topic of laundry, today I had a a miniature laundry breakdown. I hate laundry. It freaking NEVER ENDS...

Lucky for me, laundry is my responsibility... because Joe is "scared" to do laundry. I have no idea why that would be. It surely has nothing to do with the fact that I might have freaked out a teensy weensy bit after the 11th time he WASHED my dryclean only and DRYED my lacey undies and bathing suits.. surely that cannot be the reason. I mean, we had several lessons on what can and cannot be washed/dryed, but apparently I have instilled the Fear of God in him and he will.not.touch.laundry less he be subjected to the "Wrath of Jenny". His words.

In all fairness, he does dishes. But I would SOOooo rather let him deal with the whole 'cleaning' thing do dishes.

Anyway, relationships are all about compromise and what have you. That's what they say... so I do the laundry. Here's what I accomplished today... these are clean, btw:

Somewhere under this massive pile is actually a basket. It's a-freakin-lot, right??? I mean, seriously. How is this even possible???

Well I'll tell you why: Mister boyfriend goes through about 12 lbs of clothes a day! Yes, that's right. NONE of those clothes are mine. They're ALL Joe's. Seriously.

Here's Joe's day with clothes:

Wake up and throw PJs on floor... unless they were already on the floor ;-) Regardless, they end up on the floor.

Get dressed for work... that involves at least 4 items of clothing, more if its a "professional attire" day.

Get home from work and change into comfy clothes.

Add gym clothes if it's a work-out day.

Shower and throw towel on floor (actually truth be told Joe's towels usually make it in the 'laundry' wherever that is, and mine end up on the floor, but heyyy at least I usually reuse 'em).

Change into comfy clothes (*not the same* as before post-work, pre-shower comfy clothes) which may or may not end up on the floor by the morning....

This is totally.out.of.hand!!!

So I kindly sent Mr. Joe a few text messages just now:

"If u don't stop throwing everything u wear ONE TIME in the laundry I'm going to kill you."

"I know where you sleep."

"Unless you sweat/poop/pee/make sexy time in it, it is NOT dirty. Unless it touches your balls, then it can be washed."

"Blood, blood counts too..."

I thought this was short and sweet! But no response....

UPDATE: Joe just got home from work. He's wearing sweatpants, sneakers and his button-down work shirt. This is actually a cute look, btw :-) He said he was going to the gym tonight but the dress shirt threw me off, so I asked what the deal was. He said he was trying to "save" his shirt from wrinkles.

Good boy...I guess I DID make my point!!!

However, he wouldn't let me take a picture. Oh well, you win some.. you lose some...  :-)

Bring on hump day...

... because I'm ready for this week today to be over.

Our Subaru has been having a rough time lately.. to the tune of, oh, a bajillion dollars $2,000+ in repairs rough in the last few months.

Rewind to Sunday while I'm being all independent and what have you, driving to get some space "run some errands" and all of the sudden there is smoke coming out of the hood. Lovely...

So I pop the hood, because, clearly, I.CAN.HANDLE.THIS.

What to do? Of course... check the oil!!! I pull the little oil dipper doo-dad out, wipe it off, stick it back in. Hmmm... There's oil in the car. Now what?? I was not going to call Joe just yet, cause I.CAN.TOTALLY.HANDLE.THIS. but SHIT... dad's on business in China... don't know country code or need a $78 international calling charge.

Next man on the list: My Uncle Jack. He tells me to check for anything that could get lodged in the engine that may cause it to smoke, and I find a piece of cardboard (which I later learn Joe uses as a funnel and stores on the side of the engine intentionally, go figure) and determine this must be the cause of the problem.

Remove cardboard. Restart car. DAMN. Still smoking... and lovely, there's green stuff coming out of the hood. This, apparently, is antifreeze. Good times. (Sidenote: antifreeze is very tasty and incredibly poisonous to, as in sure fire way to kill, dogs).

At this point I call Joe. HANDLING THIS: FAIL.

Long story short, the radiator was cracked which I have learned causes the antifreeze to leak, the car to overheat, and can do all sorts of bad stuff. So there goes another $500. Yippee!!

Oh, and the car was supposed to be fixed this morning but it wasn't so I had to reschedule my dentist appointment that I urgently scheduled yesterday because I keep having dreams about my teeth falling out and this one tooth is killing me and I'm SURE I have a cavity but when I went in this afternoon I just found out it's just phantom pain (whatever that is?) which is good, I guess, except now I'm pretty sure my dentist who I've seen since I was 3 thinks I'm crazy because I told him about my recurring teeth dreams... and *breathe* aaahhhh.... was that sentence long enough?

So I decide to go to CrossFit to blow off some steam. Good plan. Except I get there and realize I have no sports bra. Whatever, I'm gonna do this anywayy...

And then I learn the WOD (workout of the day) is "Annie on the Run" - translation: a VERY bad day to forget your sports bra. This workout involves a lot of double unders (yup-Jump Rope, lovely) and a lot of running. I hope it was entertaining for all the men.

Oh, and one more CrossFit woe, because I haven't complained enough in this post. Back in December I did a benchmark WOD that was freakin brutal. I think it's called "Fran" or "Angie" or I dunno, but regardless it is:

• 100 pullups
• 100 pushups
• 100 situps
• 100 squats

Afterwards I was literally so sore that I COULD NOT straighten my arms for days. One night, I was using those hand-warmers some people use while skiing to try and relax my biceps, and I fell asleep with one on my arm.

Well, it slipped from my bicep down to my forearm and I woke up with freakin' 2nd degree burns on my arm... seriously!! I had 4 blisters that oozed and hurt like hell and were just plain nasty. And worst of all, they were in the shape of a freakin' PENIS!!!!

I did the whole neosporin - don't touch - don't pick thing for weeks. I'm kinda OCD about picking but I SWEAR I was really good about it because I DID NOT WANT A PENIS SCAR.

But alas, it was meant to be. Today in the elevator, I looked down at my forearm and have come to terms with my Angie-Induced CrossFit Penis Scar:

 

Okayy it doesn't really look like a penis anymore, but it used to!!!

Now it just slightly resembles a long skinny curved one with very small testicles. Or it looks like I cut myself. Not sure which is better... thoughts?? 

So how was your day?

8===D

PS-that could totally be a new smiley face!

oh, brother.

Well, heRRo!!

Bloggy world, meet my family. Minus my sister. Plus Joe.

Please excuse my holey dress.. I really don't know what I was thinking. Anywayy, on the right is my awesome little brother. Officially a teenager now, but still cool. It's amazing.

SIDENOTE: There are 12 years between my sister and I, and my lil bro. People tend to ask if he was a "mistake". Nope, negativo. Apparently my sister and I were.. but Gabe.. he was planned. In fact, I distinctly remember my mom giving my dad her IUD in a ring box for Christmas one year. Special :-) But I digress...

So Gabe's a cool kid. My sister and I take full some responsibility for this (mom- if you're reading.. I kid!) because, well, what 13 year old doesn't like to hang out with his awesome older sisters?

And so I try to "hang out" with Gabe as often as possible.. and in the winter that often means heading to the slopes.

Well, it's officially winter now. We have a season passes to Snoqualmie/Alpental - a pretty decent mountain about an hour from Seattle - and have yet to go. Shame on me!

I kinda sorta planted this seed in my brother's head that I was going to take him up night skiing slash snowboarding with Joe and I this week, and it kinda sorta hasn't happened yet. And it's Thursday.

Monday - 7" of new snow but Joe and I were exhausted from the holiday weekend. Gabe, not so much. But what are ya gonna do?
Tuesday - it rained. Me no likey rain.
Wednesday - more rain. 'Nuff said.

Today... brother texts me.

"Is today snowboarding"
"Sure if you want. Currently 21* and hard ice pack. Better than rain."
"Do you want to or are u being sarcastic"
(Brother apparently knows me well, or else 13 year olds 'get' sarcasm)
"No I'm not being sarcastic, icy is excellent! Better than rain anyway. I just wish it would freakin snow already haha"
"Alright :-) ill go if u want"
(Don't twist his arm, right?)
"Okayy then joe and I will leave when he gets off work at 5... pick u up @545 and be up there by 630 or so. It'll be cold so remember dress warm"
(Brother checks weather report - see below - online)
"K but also sunburning conditions!!"
"WTF Gabe... nightskiing. Really??"

Oh, brother!!

Too harsh? :-) Anywayyyy... so I guess we're going skiing, or I should say.. slip slidin' away.. tonight.

Looking forward to it. Seriously. No, really. I am.

omg new ski boots please?

'I wish' .... 

Santa would have remembered
New Ski Boots were on my list!

Well actually, I didn't tell any of my Santas this really... but I think it should be obvious by the fact that my feet bleed every time I go skiing. Seriously.

However, in all fairness no one can really pick out ski boots for someone else. Heck, I don't even think I can pick them out for myself!

They really should have trial periods for ski boots.. not just, like, put your foot in and walk around the store. A full day of skiing trial, I think, is mandatory to determine if a boot is gonna work or not. Just sayin'

In all seriousness, though, Santa didn't miss anything this year... I was quite spoiled.

image source.

image source.

To get in on the Wishful Wednesday fun, go check out Miss Kelsey's blog. You won't regret it :-)

what is this, work??

So it's Tuesday at 4:45 PM and I have done pretty much nothing this week at work. Yesterday I didn't get in until 2:30 because I spent the morning and a good part of the afternoon at the Dentist office getting my teeth bleached (Christmas present from my mom) with this Brite Smile stuff...

Just FYI - they call it a "gentle and relaxing" procedure. Umm, no. I do not call three hours of having your mouth stuck open with sunscreen lathered on your lips and face, bleach applied to your teeth and gums, and then microwaved (or something) either "gentle" or "relaxing" ... and that's not even discussing the major pain for the 24 hours following... the fact that my teeth physically hurt, and that I couldn't smoke... both painful.

Yes, I smoke. And drink red wine. And coffee. I guess that's a lot of drugs for one sentence? But I digress.. clearly, these vices are why I needed my teeth bleached (or so my mom thinks). I will say, they look quite nice!! I mean, seriously. It worked well.

Was it worth it? I don't know... for one I didn't pay for it, and I hear it's pretty spendy. But I will say I definitely wasn't a happy camper with the dental assistant during the procedure, as she kept repeating "Beauty is pain" ... seriously... and I couldn't even tell her to shut the f*ck up please be quiet because I had a dental dam in my mouth.

Moving on....

Kind of, but not really. Because it feels like time stands still between Christmas and New Years. Is there really any reason anyone goes to work this week? I have done very little.. and that is putting it... optimistically. I can't help it... I'm counting down ... to.....WHISTLER!!!!

Yup, going to Whistler to celebrate New Years and I.CAN'T.WAIT. I did spend a good portion of my day researching New Year's Eve parties and sending out e-mails to our crew to gauge pre-reservation-making level of interest. (I'm the planner of the group, if my Type-A personality hasn't clearly shone through in my blogging.)

Anyway, I am not going to be too hard on myself about this whole lack-of-working thing, because after all ... it's Christmas Break!! Or at least it was for the first 23 years of my life, so I'm going to go with, umm yeah! I don't have to do a damn thing. 

Except wait... until....

2010!!!!

oh, college (weekend)

Well Hello, blogger friends!!! I don't know about everyone else, but it has been a CRAZY week... so hard to find the time to catch up with y'all!!!

My weekend was quite eventful... actually, exhausting. Far too much making party... but it was fun. But it's Tuesday Wednesday, and I'm still exhausted, and most definitely coming down with something. However, we had some a-mazing times. I think it was worth it... you guys can decide for yourself.

FRIDAY was my friend Digga's 30th Birthday Party, hosted at Q Cafe with a BLACK and WHITE theme (so much fun!!!). It was only $20 for 4 hours of OPEN BAR (yes, seriously!) with yummy food, cupcakes, kegs, wine, cocktails, and about 70 of his closest friends. Doesn't get much better than that!!!

Here I am with a few of my girlfriends:

Here's a better close up of my dress, which I found at Loehmann's for $49, marked down from $158. Score!!! :-) 

The open bar ended at midnight, so we all headed out to Rob Roy in Belltown. At this point there were still about fifteen people from the party, including my friend Jen, Ashley, Joe and I.

Well... umm... we closed down the bar. Good work. THEN four of us (Joe and I included) made our way to my apartment where we planned to crash... when it was like FATE.STEPPED.IN and we got in the elevator with four peeps who were heading to a CHRISTMAS PARTY on the 5th Floor at 2:15 AM. Anyone see where this is headed?

College Late-Night!!!!

Umm, yeah. Somehow I convinced Joe and our two guests that "we were invited" to this party on the 5th floor, and we should TOTALLY go... because OMG it would be fun. (For the record, we were NOT actually invited.) Umm yeah.... so we crashed a stranger's Christmas party. Seriously.

BTW remember I am wearing a party dress (we all were in Black Tie attire) so I'm feeling pretty fun. Did I mention I love dress up? :-) 

I promptly sit down around a table of 7 people... they are clearly like who the f* is this? And this little chihuahua jumps up in my lap... I'm not a little dog person, but the dog is more interesting than the people, and I'm flattered the dog joins me, so I'm petting it. Then some snatch-face chick (apparently toy dog's owner) doesn't like this, and desperately grabs the dog from my lap.

Snatch-Face: My dog does not like you.

Me: That's not what she told me... (REALLY, I said this!)

Snatch-Face: Well "Princess" is very particular..

Me: Well maybe you should stop treating your dog like a toy.

*awkward silence*

After that, things got much better. I actually made friends, haha... although I probably could have gone without trying to convince the host that he should let me go get Bondi...

"He's just right downstairs. I SWEAR you'll LOVE him, and he won't eat Princess!!!"

Finally around 5 AM everyone else started having a "Kumbaya" guitar session and apparently we were interrupting the peace and love jam... or something That is when we were escorted out, literally.

All in all, the fact that we crashed a party and weren't made to leave until almost 3 hours later... well I consider that a TOTAL WIN!!!! :-)

SATURDAY we had no real plans... one of our girlfriends came over and the Joe, her and I ended up going to get Brunch (around 2 PM!! does that still count?) at Buckley's. The Duke-Gonzaga Basketball game was on so there was nowhere to sit, except this one table next to a bunch of kids wearing Duke shirts who were "saving the table" in a packed restaurant for their friends that weren't there yet. (RUDE?)

Anyway, I'm not crazy for my alma mater, remember? But I thought, "let's not cause a fight now". So in my most sweetest hungover voice I said, "Does it make a difference if I went to DUKE?" And guess what, it did!! This shouldn't be a surprise, since Duke peeps are so.much.better. than everyone else. Whatever, I went with it... we got our table.

Well this is freakin' crazy: The guys in the Duke jerseys say they recognize me... asked me what year I was... etc. We went through the whole name-game (name-dropping: a favorite activity of Dukies..) Turns out my roommate Lucy and I "worked" their DTD progressive when he was rushing. Basically that means we dressed up slutty and hazed rushes... made them drink...etc.

Umm, I barely remember going to this party, but not only did this guy remember... he pulled up a freakin' picture of it on his iPhone. I kid you not!!!

Then these texts (not altered for grammar) transpired between 3 or so-mimosas deep me and my Duke roomie Lucy:

Me: Dude I'm at a bar for mimosas and brunch (at 3 ahah) and ust ran into a bunch of dukies that apparently live here and omg one of em said u and lucy worked my room at teh dtd party he was a rush 08. Apparently we made a lasting impression cuz he said u guys stayed awhile and then left to go to another party hahhahahaha
Lucy: hahahah yea we left to go to delta sig I think. can't believe we made such a lasting impression.

Umm, so I just found on Facebook, the pic the guy pulled up on his iPhone looked something like this...

...which I thought was hilarious and promptly showed Joe. PS - notice Bondi in the background? Yup, he has always come everywhere with me! :-)

Oh, college.

Anyway, the rest of the afternoon/evening continued to be very college, and went something like:
Pyramid Brewery. Airport trip to pick up sister (no driving for me though!). Pyramid Brewery, again. Crashing another Christmas party, except we were *kinda* invited this time. Playing Foosball - so much fun. Getting tipsy butt kicked at Foosball. Drinking a random concoction of Christmas beverages.. gross. Staying out way.too.late. again.

And then SUNDAY I went to the Hawks Game with my girl Ashley!!! She invited me and it was so.much.fun. The seats were ridiculously amazing, see:

It was an amazing time!! I will just say that, without any more details :-)

'Twas a very fun, very college weekend. But I think I have realized... much body is just too old for so many beverages and so little sleep.

good news!

Good News!!!

We finally have a Christmas Tree* in our apartment. Yuppers, folks. I came home last night and there was a little Christmas Tree in the window by the dog bed... it even had lights and some ornaments random stuff hung on it! Yay :-) Good job, Joe!

Bad News...

1. Upon closer inspection, this *Christmas Tree (besides being TINY) is actually not a tree at all, but rather just a large Rosemary Bush from Whole Foods. Not complaining... just sayin.... Coincidence that Joe likes to cook with rosemary? I think not.
   
2. I'm pretty sure Joe only gave in and got this Christmas Tree bush because he was in.the.doghouse. and not because he hadn't gotten a tree yet. But that's another story...
3. I actually beat Joe to it because I.just.wanted.a.damn.tree. so I came home with an 8" tall (Seriously!) lil' guy from QFC. I splurged on it - $5.99 - but I figured, heck! It came with 3 ornaments ;-)
   

Moving on, I'm gonna go head and call this lil rosemary. bush. slash. christmas. tree a WIN anyway... in the spirit of the Holidays!!!! meh... and my mini Christmas tree is now chilling on my desk at work:

Don't judge me. I'm messy.

In Other News...
Good: Happy Friday!!!
Bad: I spilled coffee all over my jeans this morning :-(
Good: Said coffee spill matches my apparently coffee-colored Uggs-of-the-Day.

Yes, I took this pic while driving. So what? :-)

Lastly... I Am Soooo Flipping SORE!!!

I mean, kudos to me for actually going to Crossfit Wednesday AND Thursday... I guess. But Wednesday was a brutal leg workout with crazy lunges and squats and "wall balls" (google video Crossfit Wall Ball!) and then yesterday was a "benchmark" Angie:

   100 pullups

   100 pushups

   100 situps

   100 squats

And today I can't sit. Or stand. Or lift my arms above my head. Or turn my body. Seriously... it's awkward! The bad kind. I mean, really... I should have a handicapped parking sticker for days like this because it's so painful even to get in/out of my car, let alone walk!!!

Please just picture this.. it literally takes me about 30 seconds to get in or out of my car. No kidding.  I think I'm dying.


It can't be that bad, you say? Ummm... It's so bad that last night - just an hour or so after the workout, read: before soreness even really set in - my 89 year old grandpa (who I'm pretty sure is almost blind) asked me if I was limping!!!!

So yeah. That's all I got. A rosemary bush for a Christmas Tree and a body apparently saturated with lactic acid. Good times. But TGIF, or whatever ;-)

happy holidays. ditto.

Two years ago I had a Christmas Tree in my apartment. It was just a lil' guy, and it was fake. But it was festive!! I decorated it with red and green strings from Bondi's rope chew toys... they were falling out all over the apartment so I figured, what the heck?? They look like ornaments!! I know, right? WTF. My roommate and I left it up until March... maybe April. And then one day I came home and it was gone. I think Jamie must have decided "Enough is enough."

I had a Christmas tree in college once too... My friends and I picked out a "Charlie Brown" tree.

image source.

It was only $20. That was about all we could afford. We decorated it with empty Busch Light cans. Seriously. It was beautiful and I loved it!!!

Joe and I don't have a Christmas tree this year. It's not that I haven't asked nicely.... I have. It just hasn't happened. Currently, all of our presents have taken over Bondi's dog purple dog bed, next to his big ol' basket of dog toys and the purple stockings hanging from our faux-fireplace. It is what it is.

Anyway, I'm kind of sad about the whole.. no Christmas tree thing. But when I saw this "Holiday Lighting Win" in my Fail Blog RSS Feed, it made me smile. Sooo I'm sharing with y'all!

image source.

There are some copy cat (or who knows, maybe the originals?) Holiday Light Fail Win images floating around the InterWebs too... I found the ones below here.

Anyway.... HaPpY HoLiDaYs!!! :-)

fun with flat tires

Uggh. What a stressful morning we had today!!! It started last night, actually... As I was driving home from Crossfit, I noticed the car was pulling a bit. But then I decided it was just my shaky arms from a hard CF workout (seriously!) and put it out of my mind.

This morning, I woke up early because Joe had a dentist appointment. I was going to drive him so he didn't have to take the bus. As it turned out, thank God I offered! 

A little background - Joe works downtown so he walks to/from work, and I traded my Explorer in earlier this year in the Cash for Clunkers program, so I've been driving Joe's Subaru until I find a good deal on a used SUV.

Anywayyy, back to this morning. No sooner do we pull out of the parking garage then we hear a horrid clunk.Clunk.CLUUUNK. We pull over to find:

Lovely.

Of course we were already running late, so Joe's stressing, but he quickly gets to work on changing the tire. SEXY! On second thought, it would've been sexier if I'd done it... oh well, there's always next time...

10 minutes later: Spare tire on. Off to the dentist we go. Or not! About twenty feet later the clunk.Clunk.CLUUUNK. is back. Apparently the spare tire is also flat. WTF??!!!

Joe [exasperated] says: "If it's not one thing, it's another!"

So-Say-I: "Actually, it's pretty much the same thing."

NOTE TO SELF ... in the future, refrain from such observations.

Ugh. Anyway, the rest of this story sucks but goes something like this: Tried to inflate said busted spare tire. Called AAA. Cancelled on AAA. Took cab to tire shop. Bought tire. Went back to stranded car. Changed third tire. Drove back to tire shop. Waited, and waited, and waited... while tire shop changed four tires (apparently with AWD you can't just change one?), checked alignment, etc. etc.

$600 and 3.5 hours later, we were on our way. Fun Stuff!!