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.

happy freakin bday

It has been forever and EVER since I've really shared.. and I have no clue where to start! So how bout something that I'm not particularly excited about has nothing to do with me...

It's my lil sissy's 25th birthday Friday and we're she's going to *Vegas* . YAYYY!!!

Without me.

I don't know why she didn't want me to join her entourage in Vegas?? I  mean, with my gambling prowess and peer pressure abilities combined with my affinity for strip clubs and tipsy VIP haggling skills, I'm a no brainer choice for the invite list.

But whatever, I'm going to San Fran this weekend anyway...

*Trying to convince myself that San Fran trumps Vegas. MEH.*

Still, I'm a good sister so I got the birthday girl a lil' sumpin sumpin today. You likey??

This card (so appropriate):

This scarf: 

And some Bling (not to be confused with Blog Bling):

This bottom necklace I got at Macy's for $34.95 - 65% off of $100. Score!

I may or may not have left the $100 tag on. Boy will she be surprised when she tries to bring it back with the gift receipt!!! mwahahaha ;-)

Anyway, Happy Freakin' Birthday Sister.

I love you, and hope you lose all your money and dignity have a great time in Vegas without me.

fun with phototag.

Since I can't get my shit together to do a real post, I think I'll procrastinate with this fun phototag game I saw at keeping up with kelly & co. I've always been an excellent procrastinator!!

Here are the rules:

1. Open your 1st Photo Folder
2. Scroll to the 10th photo
3. Post the photo (no cheating) and the story behind it
4. Tag 5 or more people

Alright, here's my #10, and even though I look ridiculously amazing... I promise I didn't cheat!!

Here we have Miss Shelby and me in Whistler MLK Weekend 2008.

Aaah, Whistler... Whistler is like Mardi Gras with snow. Hmm, I could go for a Kokanee right meow. But I digress...


Shelby is a bff from highschool. AMAZING. Heart of Gold. More fun than coloring on Adderall.

Incidentally, it is Miss Shelby's 26th Birthday this weekend. As such,  I'm feeling pretty confident that my weekend might be better than yours ;-)

Anywho, in this pic we are clearly having an amazing time. Not sure what we're doing, exactly, but if I had to guess we're at the Dubh Linn Gate, because it's the only place in Whistler that actually requires you to be 21 to come in.


Since MLK Weekend also = UW College weekend for 18 years olds with fake IDs that say they're 19, this Irish Bar is about the only place we can go if we don't wanna see this:

'Nuff  said?

PS - know how I found this pic? I googled "short skirt uggs hot girls" - Google FAIL. But mental pic, if you will. They abound in Whistler MLK Weekend.  

Tall Uggs + Short Skirts + Snow = Cold UW teenyboppers.

Now, I "tag" a few bloggy McBlogsters:

• Ashley at Kiwis and Cocktails
• DSS at Desperately Seeking Seersucker
• Lilly at Country Girl Takes on the City
• Cee at Curiosity
• Kelsey at The Seattle Smiths

See, wasn't that fun? Don't have hurt feelers if you didn't get tagged. You can procrastinate play too! (I did.)

love thy neighbor

Background Info: Our apartment lease is up in a couple weeks, so Joe and I have been looking for a house to move to... with a yard... so we can get Mr. Bondi a little brother/sister that Joe will insist on naming "Homie"... which I think is the worst name for a dog ever, but I digress. 

We just found a place that is dirt cheap - I won't even tell you how cheap cause I don't want to make any Manhattanites cry. And really, it's perfect for us - well, except for the fact that it's really a really old house and has a strange odor, a little bit like what I imagine crack would smell like, and umm... then there's the sex offender neighbor and the stuttering landlord.  

Red flags? No, we'll just work around these little issues. So Say I.  


Friend:  did i hear you and joe signed a place??

me:  not yet

we did FIND a place though

and we are meeting tonight to potentially sign

Friend:  sweetness - where's it at?

me:  need to determine if the neighbor is a level i sex offender or just a sex offender "dabbler"

i'm gonna knock on his door and bring him cookies 
Friend:  and children?

haha sorry bad joke

me:  no seriously, on the king county sex offenders list, the address DIRECTLY next door is listed as sex offender, so i studied the pic and im gonna go knock on the door - check him out.

Friend:  haha creeepy

me:  WELL... the landlord legit said on the phone to me, "there's just the problem of the neighbor. he's a little cranky. But if he gives you any problems, just call us and we'll get a restraining order"

WTF

Friend: uhhhhh

me:  but actually the landlord stutters, ALOT, so it was more like, "we-e-elll thah-ah-rrS ju-ju-just the"

me: So maybe we just have a cranky neighbor and then somewhere close by a sex offender. Probably best if the cranky neighbor is the sex offender, that way we kill two birds with one stone?
Friend:  hahahah

me:  place is right behind kangaroo and kiwi pub..

like 2 blocks from greenlake on 99

it is an OLD house

but has a lot of character

each room has different color walls haha

big basement with space for beer pong, etc.

and if i felt so inclined, i could decorate it really vintagey

Friend: i'm a big fan of old houses - i think they have a lot of character missing from today's housing

me:  yeah.. well theres the problem of no dishwasher but joe fancies himself a handyman and thinks he's  gonna install one :-)

im going to point and laugh.

So here's what I got:

***LOCATION                               

PROS: Easy access to freeway for commuting, 2 blocks from Greenlake, Across the street from my favorite Pho restaurant, stone's throw from one of my favorite pubs, and directly next door to a great pizza place. On second thought, that might be a con.

CONS: Directly next door to a pizza place, "cranky neighbor" that we potentially need to get a restraining order against?, sex offender neighbor possibly (hopefully) same person as cranky neighbor.. But since little kids don't like cranky men, probably he wouldn't have been a very successful sex offender. So probably not. Oh, and if you're thinking he might not have been a 'child molester' sex offender, he was. I saw.. on the creepy and addictive find a sex offender near you site.

***LANDLORD

PROS: Lives over an hour away.

CONS: Has serious speech impediment. Conversations take 3x longer than humanly necessary.   

***HOUSE

PROS: Spacious, new carpets, big rooms, big basement, washer and dryer...

CONS: Smells funny, possibly like crack. Not that I would know. Every room has different color walls. No dishwasher. 

Thoughts??  Besides the obvious, that I have Mad "Paint" Skillz. Have you ever tried to use that program? It is less user-friendly than those grocery store Self Checkouts. I think I'll stick with Photoshop.

earplugs please!

I was watching TV the other night when a Jergens Commercial came on. I thought it was for shampoo but apparently they only make lotion, so obviously the commercial wasn't very effective. I wonder why...? Oh yes!! I was so distracted by the fact that the spokes-model used the word moist about eighteen times.

 *** Thanks to DSS for emailing me this image.***

*** Really, thanks. It made me want to vomit my day. ***

My hair is so moist... my skin is so moist... I love being moist... 

AAAAaaaahhh... EARPLUGS!!!

I HATE the word "moist". It makes the hair on the back of the neck stand up. I shudder even typing it!

Moist is to the English language as Nickelback is to Rock Music.

Like that analogy? No? OK...

Moist is to the English language as cats are to the animal kingdom.
Moist is to the English language as  ice dancing is to the Olympics.
Moist is to the English language as Lilly Pulitzer is to fashion.

Hmm.. okay.. that last one doesn't really "work" so well.. but thought I'd throw it in there.

I would appreciate it if we could just remove this word from the Dictionary (along with queef and pimple.) And also, please fire the Marketing Director at Jergens. Immediately.

K? Thanks.

TMI Thursday: anything but anal

So I've never done this before, and I've had a several bottles glasses of wine, so.. I'm going to partake in TMI THURSDAY!!!

This past weekend, my boy Joe and I took my grandparents out for their xmas present: a trip to the South Pacific at the 5th Avenue Theatre and then Sazerac for dinner.

Background info:

My grandpa is a special sort of 90 something year old. VERY RELIGIOUS. As in, at some point between  sane 70 and now, he became a "Catholic" man who:

   (1) Believes in a church that does not recognize the Pope.

   (2) Participates in a strictly Latin mass that lasts 1+ (painful - I went, once) hours in a church that requires women to wear DOILIES (is that the plural of doily?) on their heads while praying.

   (3) Fears that all of his family is going to HELL if they do not convert to this new (or old? not sure) Catholocism. As in, he recently told my parents (his son and DIL) that their son (my lil bro Gabe) was born out of wedlock because their marriage was never valid in the eyes of his church.. or something.

Good times.

Random Thursday insertion: apparently I use parenthesis alot when I'm drunky~~~

Anyway... so we went to the awesome play The South Pacific, and then this awesome restaurant The Sazerac, and while at dinner,

this

TMI

conversation

happened

OLD RELIGOUS GRANDPA looking back and forth between me and Joe: So what kind of relations do two have?

JOE: omg omg omg wtf omg

ME: practiced at interpretating half deaf grandpa, realizes he said "what kind of RELIGOUS VIEWS do you have" because that's obviously ALL he cares about, whether we're going to Hell or not.

Umm RELIGOUS VIEWS.. what RELIGOUS VIEW DO YOU HAVE??

Joe: ""Relations we have?"

Me: "RELIGIOUS VIEWS"

Joe: Oh, cuz I was gonna say, "EVERYTHING BUT ANAL"

JK

Joe didn't actually say that. But afterwards he told me he was thinking about it. And that's TMI. No??

PS I'm somewhat very meh carrghh how do I use this damn thing??? disappointed in the Quality of this blogpost. Wednesday Trivia Night = WARNING! BAD! DANGER! I am "tipsy" as they say..

PPS Update my Grandma is NOT hard of hearing and she heard the whole thing and new exactly what Joe thought grandpa said and read his face and mine and just started cracking up... one of those laughs that had heads turning :-) Love her.

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?