OK that’s a lie. But mostly it’s not. I’ve really tried, and I think it’s working. I’ve been going to yoga every night. I’ve been meditating for at least 4 minutes before I start thinking about food. And more than anything, I’ve really kept most negative thoughts abay.

That’s a lie too.

Negative thoughts cross my mind all day long. I don’t know how to stop them. I DO think that I’ve found a solution though. Or at least a temporary fix. It’s simple. Every time I think of something negative, I accept it and then just justify it with something that I do feel positive about.

An example? OK.

You know what really sucks stinky poo?

When you get that dreaded email from your bank saying something like “You have asked to be alerted when your bank account drops below a certain level. It is now below that level.”

FUUUUDDGEEE. Seriously, where does all the money go? I mean I get paid week to week, so I know I can make it.. but still, I’m on a budget yo. I’m gonna have to have a baby for someone or quit buying songs on itunes or SOMETHING!

But you know what makes it all better?

Knowing that I spent my money in a wonderful way. The boo and I literally had our own Deep Ellum pub crawl. We went to every bar in walking distance and only had a drink at each. It added up… but so worth it.

You know what makes me want to kill small children?

When “Mambo No. 5 ” comes on my Pandora. Seriously. I like nothing even remotely close to this song. It hurts my soul and my heart and my brain.

But you know what makes me smile despite the fact that “Mambo No. 5″ has played twice in the last week?

Smile Smile’s new video for “Truth On Tape.” I still love them so much.

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You know what makes me want to scream expletives at my grandpa?

Pain. Human pain. Of the physical category.

But you know what makes me want to have Steve Buschemi’s babies?

Knowing that the pain came from a weekend of marathon getting it on. What qualifies as marathon you ask? Nineya yo business.

That and my new tattoo. I’ve always wanted a comedy and tragedy mask tattoo. I think it stems from my long love of the theater and comedy. But now that I’m trying to adapt to this new “positive thinking” style of life, I decided that I wanted something that was a little more positive. I wanted something that I could look at that would remind me how good life is. So I went with this…

You know what makes me want to eat a pound of cheesecake and cry?

The fact that the hair on my foot in this picture makes me look like a man.

But you know what makes that OK?

Nothing. I’m a lazy excuse for a woman. But then again, I think I’m OK with that.

Over the past 9 days I’ve gone through so many emotions. I’ve felt irritated, empowered, angry,  depressed, and weak. There have been a few days when I haven’t been bothered at all, then others when it was all I could do not to flip out. I’m not gonna lie… I even broke down on Saturday and had a few puffs (after a few drinks) but I don’t think it set me back much. More than anything, I want to be healthier. Eventually I want to be disgusted by cigarettes- but for now, if I can cut myself down to a few puffs a week, then I think I can be ok with that. In fact, more than anything, I’m just proud of myself for not going postal on everyone who smiled at me and told me with their clean teeth and untainted fingernails that they were not addicted to smoking… that, and for not gouging my own eyeballs out with a number two pencil. I’ve also upped my pen chewing 123%, but I think I can deal with that.

I don’t know whether it’s the quitting smoking or the turning into a  28 year old woman, (and I use that term loosely) but lately I’ve been feeling like doing a little more soul searching than usual. For an example, last Thursday night I HAD to go see the meteor shower. At about 10:30 pm I dragged my roommate LA and Moops out of bed and made them drive me 45 minutes out into the country so that we could have a clear view of the sky. We drove forever, and finally found a patch of grass on the side of the highway to spread our blanket on. The three of us lay there  side by side in peace, trying to understand the vast arch above us. This lasted about 7 minutes when we begin to get bitten my gigantic Mothra-esque creatures, which made me remember the podcast I had listened to earlier that evening about ticks and the diseases that they carried. Just as we were gathering up the blanket, I saw 3 shooting stars which sent the three of us back into a trance for about 30 seconds until a cop pulled up.

This cop wasn’t your run of the mill city cop, no siree. This man was old, walked with a limp, and even wore an old fashioned badge. We didn’t freak out as we ususally would in cop sitchyeeatshuns, because for once, we weren’t actually doing anything wrong. He explained that he “had got a tele that some der folks were layin out on der road.” I kind of wanted to hug him because he was the first person I’d seen in at least a few days that could have walked straight out of a movie. Regardless we left, and I was forced to continue my soul searching elsewhere.

 (I took an ambien this evening and the majority of that previous paragraph was written in southern-cop accent, in case you couldn’t tell.)

Later that night, I decided to try to meditate. I put on a guided medidtation cd that I bought a few years ago when I decided I wanted to be a Buddhist, but all I could think about was how hairy my toes were and how much I wanted to go downstairs and eat some tuna salad and maybe even some popcorn… so after about 5 minutes of feigned calm breathing, I went downstairs, shaved my toes and ate a bunch of food. FAIL.

Some friends came in town this weekend and we spent the majority of our time playing Mario Party, which in a way a meditation of escaping reality, but for the most part I forgot about my quest to become a better person. Sunday night we went to see Eat Pray Love, which got me thinking all over again. Not necessarily about the movie… it was ok and all and I kind of want to lick Javier Bardem from head to toe, but all in all the whole thing seemed a bit contrived. I didn’t read the book and I don’t know much about the author, but it irritated me a bit that this whole story was based upon a woman who was most likely paid a book deal to go on the “quest” to find herself. But still, it made me want to do so even more. But what can I do?

I don’t really believe in bullshit self help books (no offense to anyone who uses them) but I was feeling like I didn’t have any other options, so this morning I broke down and downloaded “The Secret.” Yeah, that book that everyone and their great grandmother has read and apparantely became millionaires after reading it. I’m about half way through, and I have very mixed feelings. One the one hand,I agree that positive thinking is a.. well positive way to live your life. The more positive you think, the more active you are going to be in trying to reach your goals (though the book claims that all you have to do is “believe” that you will  become the person you want to be, and that you are that person already, and then acracadabra boom hiss your wish will be granted. )the better chance you have of actually obtaining them. But on the other hand, I have always believed that once you picture a scenario in detail- then there is a 99% chance that that exact scenario will never play out in that exact manner. If it did, wouldn’t that be some sort of deja vu space/time continuim fuck up?

I don’t know, but I think I’m thinking about this too hard. I don’t think these books are meant for cynical, questioning people like myself. I will try to apply more positive thinking to my life, and I do think that I could benefit from meditating more often, but I also think I need begin to work things out on a more rational level. My own way. I don’t have it all planned out. I have goals (see my last post) but I don’t have a clue about where I want to be in 20 years. I would like to be financially stable, but I don’t spend my nights dreaming about being a millionaire. I don’t have a dream job, I don’t have an innate desire to have a family at this point in my life… so maybe I just need to start with my small goals.I’m going to devise my own self-help stragedy. Like quitting smoking. I can do this. I will kick this. (Check out my positive thinking, yo). I’ve quit other things before. So perhaps I shall start with something small to help my cause. Maybe I should list out all the things I’ve quit before.

Here we go.

*I quit chewing on my knuckles at the age of four. Granted my doctor told me if I didn’t he’d cut them off. Also take note.. this was the first clue I had an intense oral fixation.

*I quit going to algebra my sophomore year of college because it stressed me out and cause a 3am breakdown when I ran out of lead of my mechanical pencil.

.*I quit watching Lost after the second season because it was stressing me out that nothing. ever. happened.

*I quit my job at the costume shop because my boss was a misogynistic blow hole, who made me pick up sequins while down on my knees in a mini-skirt and wouldn’t let me go home to get some sanitary help for my lady problem. He also told me I was stupid because I couldn’t work the cash register.

*I quit eating most dairy products because they make me feel like there is an angry, drunken, bowling team in my belly.

*I quit my job at the sandwich shop because I lost a nail in the vegetables and I was  probably going to get fired when they found out.

*I quit caring and talking about politics when I realized both sides are liars, but mostly because I wasn’t sure that I even cared.

*I’ve quit reading the Twilight series, Harry Potter, and every biography I’ve ever started. Mostly because of commitment issues.

*I quit going to my trainer because I had a crush on him and I found out he was like 6 years younger than me and I didn’t want to be a cougar at the age of twenty seven. Also I needed an extra $125 a month. Also because I don’t like people telling me what to do.

Hmmm… I’m sure there’s more but I’m tired and so I think I’ll quit writing now. I think we’ve established that I’m pretty good at quitting things. Especially things that suck. So now I just have to apply that to smoking, I suck on cigarettes, right? So technically they kind of suck (or blow)… Either way, I think this helped. If for nothing else, it’s helped me see that I don’t deal with stress very well, which is precisely why I smoked for so long,

Oye vey this ambien is making this confusing and I’m getting stressed again. More on this later, maybe. I’m off to suck on a lozenge, which is a word I still haven’t figered out how to pronounce.

Tootles.

As I approached my 28th Birthday, there were several times when I caught myself thinking of all the things I have yet to accomplish. In fact, I spent the last few weeks laying in bed at night freaking out because I’m STILL not where I thought I would be in my life. I don’t have the ideal income, I’m not completely self reliant, I drink entirely too much, I still have a bit of an inferiority complex, I’ve quit going to the gym daily, and I’ve found that I occasionally still slip back into old bad habits.

Today, though, I made a decision. I’m not sure whether or not it’s because I’ve been clear headed and sober for 48 hours, but while I was on the treadmill today, thoughts began pouring out of my brain before the blaring sound of LCD Soundsystem on my ipod could block them out.

I’m ready to quit focusing on all that I haven’t achieved. I’m ready quit putting myself down for lapses in judgment that I’ve made in the past. I’m ready to stop dwelling on all of my forgotten goals, and I’m ready to stop pretending that I can just sit here idle and the world will magically fix my problems.It’s time to take action.

First I want to congratulate myself on what I have achieved in the past year. Twenty-seven may have not been the best year of my life, but I think I’ve endured a lot of changes, some of which have helped me become a stronger person.

During my 27th year I changed jobs. I changed houses, changed cities, and changed roommates. I watched my family fall apart and had to learn to play the role of an adult with my parents. I helped to bring my family back together. I let go of relationships and learned that I deserve respect from others and from myself. I’ve had arguments with close friends and am learning how to compromise. I became a blogger and realized though at times I may go a little too far, I enjoy putting myself out there and love to write like no one’s reading. I’ve made new friends and reconnected with old ones… and I’m starting to understand the importance of friendship and communication.

But if 27 was a year of change, I think 28 needs to be the year of growth. I’ve decided to set some goals for myself, but I’m also not going to be too hard on myself ifI don’t meet them all.. because after all, I’m not perfect.

I want to be more reliable, and in turn not take people for granted.

A close friend of mine told me the other day that in just the last two months she has noticed that I am not near as flaky as I used to be. She told me that she had started to hold me more accountable to things that I say I will do… and while on one hand that scares the bejeezus out of me… it also made me proud. I used to enjoy being the person that no one could count on. Not because I didn’t want people to like me, but because I was lazy and wanted to be able to flake out of situations without people being surprised. For a long time I didn’t mind when people said, “Oh that’s just Carissa.. she probably just forgot.” After years of this behavior I’m sure that people have just come to assume that I’ll be the one who forgets to RSVP to weddings. People have come to expect that I’ll be the one who will arrive 2 hours late to the party, if I even show at all. I don’t know how I went so long without caring that I was “that” girl. I have come to realize lately that I rather enjoy it when people can count on me. It makes people respect me, and want to behave the same way in return. I plan on making 28 the year that people can count on me for a change.

I want to choose my battles… but also my apologies.

I’m not one to argue much with friends. I don’t like confrontation, but even more than that- I’ve always had a difficult time standing up for myself. Over the last few years I feel that I’ve made some head way in that regard. I’ve begun to feel passionate about my stance on my ideas and care a little more about sticking up for them, and I believe that this is a positive change. However, I’ve gotten myself in a few situations where I’ve gotten involved and I probably shouldn’t have.. It’s good to share opinions, but just like momma always said (your mom, not mine) there are times when things are best left unsaid. Sometimes it’s best to just let things play out and I think it’s important for me to understand that time is the best cure for some circumstances.

That being said, I still feel that one of my greatest weaknesses is how quickly I am to take the blame…. to say “I’m sorry.” I’m not saying that I shouldn’t apologize when I am at fault, but I should definitely recognize the times when I’m not. I spend entirely too much time feeling guilty over situations that I have absolutely no control over. I can’t be there for everyone all the time. It’s not my fault if my friend’s argue with each other, or if their relationships don’t work out. I can’t feel bad about not being able to be at two places at once. I can sympathize with situations, but I can’t always do something about them, and I need to learn to be OK with that.

I want to fill my time with things that make me happy, find new hobbies and get more involved with old ones.

I have a lot of passion for a lot of different things, but I feel like lately I’ve let a lot of them fall by the wayside. I want to spend this year getting back involved in the things I love. I want to perform more, and not be afraid to try new things. I want to improve my writing, and do it more often. I want to take advantage of opportunities. I want to embrace my talents and start looking to using them for my future. I want to join my sister on a birding adventure, ride the bike that has been sitting in my garage for 4 months, and start swimming again. I want to take one of the art classes in my neighborhood that I’ve looked into 5 times but never thought I had the time for. I want to meet some of you people and have some good conversation. I JUST WANT TO DANCE!

I want to live a healthier lifestyle, both physically and mentally… have respect for myself and treat my body like the temple that it is. Basically I want to be the best me.

When people I know see that I’ve lost over a 100 lbs, a lot of people assume that I am the epitome of good health, that I must have have mastered self control.  This couldn’t be further from the truth. Sure there are days, even consecutive weeks when I will work out 5 days a week, watch my portions, and count calories. But there are also days where I am so terrified that I will gain weight, that I will consume almost nothing so that I can drink a bottle of wine at night. There are other days where I will completely jump the wagon and not even care that I just ate an entire weeks worth of Chinese food, but will stress about it for days after. I don’t want to be this person anymore. I know this is something that I’ll probably always struggle with, but I want to find some consistency. My healthiest months are the ones where I am the most happy, and I want to feel that way all the time. I don’t want to be the kind of person who is always concerned about my appearance, or that people are going to judge me…. and for the most part I’m not. I want to get to the point (and some days I’m there) where I’m not concerned if I gain a few lbs, where I know that I will still feel comfortable and confident in my body no matter what size I am.

I want to stop smoking, and I’m only 2 days in but I think I can do this. I want to cut down on drinking significantly, so that I can remember the good times… so that I can enjoy the quality of my life. I want to brush my teeth every night and go to sleep early enough so that every once in a while I can get up and enjoy a sunrise walk.

I want to be more confident in myself. Sometimes I think I was more confident when I was bigger, probably because I had to be. I want to be able to walk into a room and KNOW that I’m fabulous, even if other people may not agree.

I don’t want to be so insecure in my relationships. I want to trust. I want to have more faith in people and human kind as a whole. I want to have the same faith in myself as I think some people have in me.

I want to enjoy everyday of 28, and not get bogged down by the little things. I want to make the most of this wonderful, wonderful life.

Thanks for sticking with me through 27, and through this ridiculously sappy post. Even this girl gets sappy every once in a while. I LOVE YOUR FACE!

I would go into all the details of seeing Michael Ian Black, two back to back nights of karaoke filled-fun including a rendition of “California Girls” with my MOTHER, and the lazy but oh so amazing day I had on Sunday… but I don’t remember the details of either Friday or Saturday night and I don’t feel the details of Sunday are appropriate for the internet.

However, I will share with you the videos that my mom put together. It’s bad though. Not the video quality- that was pretty spectacular (thanks mom!) but my singing? Not so much.

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My lord it hurts even watching this. I mean really Carissa? REALLY? Why must I always be so freaking dramatic? WHYYYYYY!!!!???? By the by, this was totally sung in the “Old School” “I fucking need you more tonight” version, but my mom didn’t want to have me say fuck on the internet so she edited it out. Weird.

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In other news, today is day numero uno of not smoking. I’m not sure I’ve mentioned it, probably because I wasn’t sure that I was actually going to follow through, but I think 28 is as good as an age as any to quit. It’s not going to get any easier after all but I think I can do this. I’m gonna be a grown up. I just hope I don’t turn into Mel Gibson in the process.

Well I was going to write more, but now I just don’t feel like it so excuse me while I go eat a whole gum ball machine.

Oh and one more thing. I saw this last week and haven’t been able to erase it from my brain.

Sleep well tonight suckers.

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Being sick.

You know what’s worse than just being sick?

Being sick that ISN”T  hungover. Cause if your hungover  then it’s at least a little bit worth it, right?

You know what’s the most worstiest of everything? (it’s a word)

Being sick on a VERY important week.

Duh duh. Duh duh. Duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh du…….

(Once again that was my very excellent version of the Jaws theme song, but you probably already knew that!)

No, I wasn’t talking about shark week though that is also very important. In fact, I deemed it so important that I sharked myself on the Discovery channel website.

I am not so good at sharking myself. But I think it looks like a zombie so I'm cool with that.

The term “sharking yourself” sounds kind of dirty doesn’t it?

I know, sometimes it’s like I’m 5  years old or something.

Actually that’s not true at all. A true statement would be “I act like I’m 5 years old or something.”

But what would really be accurate would be if I said “it’s like I’m 28 years old or something,” which is precisely what I will be on this Saturday. So… Happy Birthday me! It’s also my parent’s old (dead) dog’s birthday, or maybe that’s just what they told me when I was 8.

I’m really not so sure how I feel about this Birthday. Twenty eight seems like such an insignificant age, but then again they all sort of do from here on out. Except in my case, I’ll probably count myself lucky for any year that I survive after the age of like 35… in fact I think I’m pretty lucky to have made it this far.

But really… 28.

I had a bit of a freak out the other night when I started thinking about the fact that I am officially in my late twenties. I decided last year that 27 was definitely in the “mid to late twenties category… but 28… there’s no denying it. I really try hard not to dwell on these sort of things, but there are so many things that I thought that I would be by the age of twenty eight. I thought I’d be rich, famous, married to my friend Cameron, own my own zoo, drive a limo (I used to think that was better than riding in one,) have 14 kids, star on Saturday Night Live, and also princess of a far away country. Of course I thought all of this when I was in the third grade after a game of M.A.S.H., but still… Boy was I wrong.

I mean, if I can’t even afford to take care of a pet rat, I’m certainly not on the right road to owning a zoo. Then again, there are days when I really think I’ve done it right. I’m still figuring things out and I think that’s ok. I’m not entirely sure what path I’m on- but I’m still happy with the idea that I could move to Ireland tomorrow if I wanted to. Provided I win the lottery, that is.

Birthdays are a funny thing though. I never know how to act. There are days when I think that I would like to let it simply go unnoticed (LIKE THAT ONE YEAR WHEN I WAS TEACHING DANCE IN NEW YORK AND NOBODY CALLED ME, DON”T THINK I”VE FORGOTTEN BITCHES!) but when it comes down to it- I think I can be down right bratty when it comes to my birthday. It is after all, the one day that I can call my own. I really try not to get that whiny “but it’s MY birthday” attitude… but I’m afraid I’m not very good at that.

My favorite birthday of all time was the year I turned 10. My family got up real early and took my cousins and I fishing. I caught a huge fish that snapped my fishing pole right in half. It was a carp so we didn’t get to keep it, but I didn’t have to worry about things like baiting my own hook back then. When we got home, I was surprised to find that I had gotten my very own purple bicycle, with a basket and everything. The real surprise came when my cousin presented me with a pie in my face. Only it wasn’t a surprise at all, because I had been begging asking to have a pie thrown in my face for my birthday for like 3 years. I was a weird kid who watched entirely too much Nickelodeon.

Despite being sick, this week has already been a pretty smashing birthday week. I started celebrating last Sunday with a little bit of day drinking. We hung out at my favorite dive bar (Adairs, for those of you in Dallas) with a bunch of old guys who were jamming their guitars. I even got to hold one of their glass eyes. Then on Tuesday I won last minute tickets to go see Aerosmith, and he was every bit as sparkly as I imagined he would be.

This weekend my family is coming up to spend my birthday with me for the first time in years, and we’re going to see my favorite comedian of all time – Mr Michael Ian Black.

So instead of getting a pie in my face, I think I’d like to have a Michael Ian black in my face. Or in my mouth. Either way, I’m pumped. My mom also decided that she wants to film a zombie movie, starring me as a zombie- which I’m a little on the fence about. We shall see.

I also am requesting gifts I actually need this year. My list so far:

-3 light bulbs

-pens with a plastic chewable top

-new bed sheets

-a new lap top

-new phone (since I bit and cracked mine)

-my $665 TXU electricity bill to be paid (SERIOUSLY EFFED UP)

-A new car since mine is about to die forever

-John Cusack

So now I will shut my whore mouth and clean house so that my parents don’t find out that I live like a 14 year old boy. A fourteen year old boy who drinks copious amounts of wine.

CHEERS TO YOUR FACE!

PEEE ESSSSS. : I still plan on doing a giveaway for my blog birthday… but I decided to wait until after my birthday so I can give away the gifts that I don’t want for myself.

PEEE PEEE ESSSS (teehee pee pee) If anyone in the area is interested in joining in on some shenanegans this weekend (I’ll be out both nights) just tweet me yo.

Stay tuned.

Well first of all, I’m finally trying to follow through on a New Years Resolution I made back in 2008…. then again in 2009. I gave up making resolutions in 2010, but now I’m determined to give it another shot.

For the last 10 years I’ve lived in the Dallas area, and I’ve never really given the city a chance. I mean… I’d venture out beyond my neighborhood for the odd concert or karaoke bar, but for the most part -I’d long ago written it off as being void of culture, and have said time and again that the most notable thing that this city has going for it is the unbelievable number of Douchengoyles and $30,000 millionaires. The plan has always been to work here in DFW as long as I needed to in order to save a little bit of money, and then to take off for Chicago or New York…

But a few years ago it became clear that I wasn’t going to get discovered on a street corner, and I’m not currently motivated enough to find a job that allows me to live beyond paycheck to paycheck, much less save for a plane ticket to a far away land… Plus, it dawned on me that I really like being in a city where I know people. . I realized that just as I am sometimes quick to deem a girl driving a BMW a bitch or a guy wearing a graphic tee as a douche canoe (which, is actually usually true) I had prematurely judged Dallas as being boring and industrial, with nothing to offer. That’s when I made the decision to make friends with Dallas, to really get to know this city before I pass complete judgment on it.

After college, I interned at the then start-up newspaper Pegasus News, where my “job” consisted of driving around to different neighborhoods and trying to gather information on local restaurants, bars, and entertainment venues for our database, so I already had a vague notion that there was more out there south of Denton and Plano. The last few years I made several attempts at exploring some of these places, but it wasn’t until the last 3 months or so that I’ve really made a conscious effort to delve into my local culture.

I won’t go into detail now, but I will say that I owe a lot of my recent discoveries to twitter, and also the fact that the guy I’ve been dating lives right in the middle of Deep Ellum so it makes it a lot easier when you don’t have to go too far. In the last few weeks I’ve spent some time at local museums, historical hotels, dive bars and comedy clubs, and I’ve been surprised at how much I’ve enjoyed myself. I really wish I would have embraced this fine city years ago. But more than anything else, I’ve really gotten into some of the local music, which to be honest I wasn’t aware existed much outside of Denton. Last week we went to the Dallas Observer Music Award Showcase and had a freaking blast of a time.

My favorite show of the night just happened to coincide with my most recent obsession, and ummmm.. you might know by now what happens when I get obsessionated.

I discovered the Dallas duo  Smile Smile a while back and haven’t listened to much else since. Their new album “Truth on Tape” (that’s the link to purchase on itunes!)  is the best $10.00 I’ve spent in a while, and simultaneously makes me want to laugh and cry. Smile Smile’s is made up of Ryan and Jencey, who were once engaged.. which makes their amazing music and their undeniable chemistry  even more interesting. There’s nothing I love more in the world than genuine music that I can dance to.  Check it.

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Also they are super nice and posed for pics after the show. I know. I’m such a fan girl.

Ryan from Smile Smile!

Smile Smile band (my lazy eye comes out when I'm drunk)

I really can’t talk about local bands without mentioning my other current fave, Sleeperstar. I grew up with their bassist, and had no idea until fairly recently how much they rocked. I cannot wait to see these guys in person, and you really have no excuse for not checking them out. They are pretty much guaranteed to be the next big thing. Love.

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Here is a link to their album on itunes!

As you can see I’ve neglected my blog for perfectly good reasons. I mean, what is a better way to spend time than singing and dancing your heart out?

Speaking of, I’ve also invested a little bit of time into So You Think You Can Dance. As if you’re surprised.  I’m so torn on this season. Every season before I’ve had an absolute favorite. Now I’m not so sure, but I think I’ve decided to route for Robert, because.. umm.. HELLO!!!

Mostly he just kind of sort of reminds me of Mark from a couple of seasons ago. You know, the weird one who wore guyliner but was absofreakin amaze-balls at everything he did? Here’s a little refresher. Sit back and prepare to wipe some drool from your lips.. or maybe I’m a freak.

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*please note, I will now be using sarcasm. I wasn’t using sarcasm when talking about SYTYCD. It IS awesome. It doesn’t really work when I have to point that out, does it?

Besides watching and re-watching quality television, I’ve also seen a few incredibly awesome movies. Like just this week I caught an Emilio Estevez (The Mighty Duck Guy, I swear to God!) classic called Freejack.How this movie didn’t win an Oscar I will never know. And such good special effects. Have a mentioned the acting? Uh-maze-ing.

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And next up? Well I can hardly contain my excitement for this one…

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Alrighty, I’m out just like Lindsay Lohan’s about to be. Happy weekend!

If I say that enough it’s bound to come true right?

A few months ago, I was going through a particularly tough time with some family drama. Naturally, I called my grandmother in tears – who is the last person I should call in these situations. She is a worrier at heart, and probably hasn’t slept since.

Anyboohoohoo- she told me a ritual of hers that she finds extremely helpful. She said that every morning for the last 20 years or so, she has woken up and recited the following statements:

*It will all work out.

*This will be a good day.

*Today I will have more energy.

*Treat yourself as well as you do your dog.

This morning I woke up feeling particularly grouchy, so I decided I’m going to take the advice I learned in a “Fish Training” video long ago. I will choose my attitude. I will take this day by the balls and no gentle fondling will be done. I will write today’s name down on a piece of paper and stomp on it, just like I did to my best friend in the 9th grade when she made me angry. I will be positive and cheerful and not sarcastic in the least bit. And I will recite out my grandma’s mantra and it will work.

It will all work out.

I mean clearly, duhhhh. On my way to lunch I will come across a money tree that sprouts “50 dollar bills y’all” on command. My stomach will learn how to handle the healthy mixture of curry, nilla wafers, and frozen yogurt that I put in it last night. The sandman will move into my room and read me fairy tales every night at 11:00pm. Fed-ex will deliver me a time machine from “anonymous” and I can go back to yesterday and not bite my Droid causing the screen to crack. (Yes. I bit my phone and now it is cracked.) My landlord will call and let me know that since it’s about to be my birthday, we don’t have to pay rent this month. A wizard from outer space will arrive and provide me with all of the mathematical skills that I have been lacking in my life thus far. Magically, my car will stop dying every time I’m in idle. My horoscopes will stop being so vague and start giving me direct recipes on how to live my life.

This will be a good day.

Today all sorts of good things are going to happen. My Pandora is going to be off the hook and play mostly the Beatles with a little bit of Prince and Peter Gabriel, when I psychic-ly tell it to. Cramps and all other symptoms of PMS including annoyance to the millionth degree will immediately subside. Some vendor will bring me lunch so I don’t have to move or spend money. My boyfriend John Cusack will finally tweet me back that he loves me and admit that I’m not a psycho. .I will not lock my keys in the car with the car running today. My hair will not look like I rubbed a balloon all over it. I will not sit on a beetle or step on a slug. If I happen to open a bag of pretzels, it will not explode all over my office. I will wear my underwear the right way, and not backwards causing a righteous wedgie. When it’s afternoon I will answer the phone with “Good afternoon!” and not with “good morning” or “Good Larry” like I did yesterday.

Today I will have more energy.

I will go to the gym after work. I will not use “it’s raining,” “I have cramps,” “There are smelly people in that class,” “I’m tired,” or “there are Fresh Prince reruns on” as an excuse to skip out.

Treat yourself as well as you do your dog.

I will let myself eat loads of peanut butter and cheese. And I don’t have to shower… and I think that might negate all this gym talk. Yeahhhh.. I think I’m just gonna let myself be as lazy as I want.

So yeah… this will be a good day.

I’ve always been a little sensitive, and that’s something that I think that I have really made a conscious effort to improve on in recent years, and I think I’ve really come a long way.

I remember when I was young, I was never really bothered when I wasn’t invited to a sleepover, or that I wasn’t the most popular girl in school. The things that had the most effect on me were the words that I suspect that no one else would remember or that others would have brushed off as a joke.

When I was in Elementary school I sometimes had to wear an eye patch because I had a lazy eye. I only had to wear it a few hours every day, so my parents usually allowed me to do my time after school hours. I also fell off a slide onto concrete and shattered my right arm so I had to have it attached to my body for several months. For the most part, neither the eye patch or the cast that made me look like I only had one arm were really a big deal to me. For the most part.

Back in those days they used to line the kids up for lunch or recess alphabetically. I’m not sure if they still do that, but it always really blew if your last name started with a letter in the middle of the alphabet, because you never got to be the leader. I always wished that my last name was “Adams” or “Zookeeper,” so that I would get to be at the front of the line. Why that was such a big deal back then, I can’t remember… but it was.

One day, I believe it was a Tuesday, my mom had forgotten to force me to wear my eye patch the afternoon before, so instead I had to wear it to school like an asshole. On this particular day, since I was in fact wearing a flesh colored patch (not even a cool black one) and was half gimp and my teacher must have felt extremely sorry for me, because for the first time in the history of my life- she decided to line us up starting with the letter “Mc.” (That’s me!)

So there I was, standing at the very front of the line, smiling my little booty off- when all of a sudden I noticed that the line that had formed in the classroom across the hall were pointing and laughing. At first I didn’t think much about it, because surely they were just laughing because someone had tooted or something, but it still made me a little self conscious. It wasn’t until I hear “It’s a one armed pirate!!!” that I knew for sure that I was the topic of discussion.

It still hurts a little.

As life went on, there are several other instances that I remember being particularly hurtful that I would (hopefully) laugh off today.

Like when my teacher asked us “how do you figure out (insert silly little word problem here)? Andwhen I called upon to answer, I replied “Well first you take a calculator….” At that point,  the class erupted into laughter, and my teacher told me I should have been blonde. In present time, I think that was a perfectly smart reply, because duh I’m going to calculate that shiz on a calculator. But at the time I really felt stupid. I even went home and cried about it.

I also remember a time when I threw up because Curtis Mack had a bloody nose at the lunch table, and everyone accused me of spilling my chocolate milk. I don’t know why I was so much more embarrassed about spilling my dirnk than I was of throwing up, but I was.

And then there was also the time when I was inexplicably jealous that Steven, who I had a crush on, threw up on my friend Kelly instead of me. Yeahhhh…. that was just weird.

But even now, as much as I’ve built up my armor, it seems that it’s still the little things- whether physical or verbal- that hurt the most.

Like…A couple of years ago, LA and I decided to paint ourselves up like Indians with a cactus fruit that we found at my farm. Who would’ve thought that we would have little pricklys stuck in our faces for months to come?

And then just this weekend, I got into my car to drive to meet my friends to get a margarita- and just happened to sit on a penny. A tiny little penny… well that fucker had been sitting in the Texas sun for 8 hours and branded the hell outta me!

This picture really doesn’t do it justice…

Happy Weekend people!! Let us all go out and create new wounds.

Ziinnnnnng.

Why does that feel so good? It’s got to be one of the world’s greatest mysteries. How can the 2 words – “Your Mom” be so amazing? Honestly, My mood is up like 14 notches.

But seriously. I’m fairly certain my liver is on it’s last limb, and I’m not entirely sure that I know the kidney’s actual function function but I’m pretty certain that it wants out too. I don’t know why I continue to do this to myself.

In truth, I really have cut down on “partying” the last few months. At least during the week. But every weekend there seems to be some  enormous event and I have no choice but to drink. Or I guess I have a choice, but that wouldn’t be much fun now would it?

Side note: The phrase “partying” when being used to describe drinking really really gets on my nerves. I have no idea why I used it, but I will leave it just to illustrate my annoyance.

Anybooze, yeah.. the last few weekends have been rough. Amazingly fun, and the best weekends ever to exist, but they have started to take a toll on my body. It’s kind of scary actually. There have been a few times lately where I seriously thought that I was going to die. Or maybe not completely die, but every time I have the urge to pick a scab I fear that I will start to crave human flesh. And I don’t want to be a zombie. Not yet anyway.

So yeah… My bodies a hurtin. But I’m sure I’ll be fine. It’s no biggie that it’s 6pm and I haven’t peed yet today, right?

I might as well warn you, I’m going to stay on the topic of bodily functions for just a bit, so if that bothers you- skidaddle, mkay?

Well I mentioned that I’ve been dating someone, which is something that- to be honest ,I don’t have a whole lot of experience with. It’s nice though. Except for the fact that I feel like I need to really up my hygiene and femininity – which is not something that I really excel at. He says that he doesn’t mind either way, and I think I believe him… but  it has been nice to have smooth-ish, hairless legs for the first time in my life. On top of that, I have consistently washed my face at least every 3 days, and I’ve really been conscious about the fact that my facial hair should be less visible than his.

So basically- damn, I feel like a woman. The only part that I’ve really been uncomfortable with is when I’ve had to… yanno “go-go.” Since I haven’t exactly been treating my body like a temple lately it has been acting out in retaliation. It’s never fun to have to tell someone that they need to leave their apartment so you can spend a couple hours in their bathroom. It makes me cry.

Then again I have to tell myself it’s ok, because the night we met I mentioned I had a blog, and my friend Moops only wasted about .23 seconds before blurting out “she once shit her pants and wrote about it!!”

So yeah.. my friends are awesome.

In other shocking news, LA and I went to see Eclipse tonight.

****crickets***

I know. I thought I’d never see the day where I paid money to see sparkly vampires and Kristen Stewart. While that girl still seriously wears me out, I have to admit it wasn’t half as bad as at least 3 other movies I’ve seen in my life. I’m really not a hater by nature, and I tried to stay positive about the whole experience- and I actually did have quite a good time loudly guffawing at the cheezyness of it all.

Plus, LA and I decided to sport “Twilight” t-shirts and act like major fans a full month after the movie started. We thought about getting there a couple of hours early and camping out with sleeping bags, but I wanted to keep a least a little dignity.

My favorite part was the campout scene. There were a few lines where it was quite obvious that the real chemistry is happening between Edward and Jacob. I halfway expected a full on Brokeback Mountain type of camping scene, but alas I was let down. The one thing I don’t understand about the movie, and I’m no expert by any means- but isn’t Stephanie Meyers supposed to be all uber religious and Morman? I mean, she won’t let Edward and Bella do it until they get married, yet she writes Bella to be a whore and a half. I mean make up your mind already! And smile for goodness sakes!

And there goes anyone who was still reading.

Alright. Goodnight people. I’m off to dream of Jacob’s chest, I suppose. At least that will be better than the dream I had last night about two mini M&Ms getting stuck in my bellybutton. Or even better, maybe I’ll dream about John Cusack bringing me cheese.

Blog Birthday that is. What the what!? I sat down to write my first post in 2 weeks and I realized that somehow the fact that today marks one year of blogging was about to fly by my face without me even noticing it. I know it’s been a while- but holy mother of my soul, this is literally the longest I’ve ever stayed committed to ANYTHING! Oh sure, I posted a while back about my Cameraversary, where I celebrated an entire year without losing a camera, but this is different. I’m a quitter. I quit everything, except for the few vices that I really should quit. I get tired of things. And though it may seem like I’ve grown tired of this… I really haven’t- and this is just the fire under my bootie that I need to get things flowing again.

But since I have been majorly sucking at blogging as of late, I’ve decided to wait and celebrate until my real birthday- in about 2 weeks or so. Soooo… In two weeks expect a fantabulous giveaway. I’ll be talking about that more in the weeks to come, but for now- I MUST POST ON.

I promised myself that when I finally got around to updating the old blog, I wouldn’t get all schmoozy and apologize for my lack of presence on the internet. But then every time I sit down to write, I end up opening my reader, read a few posts, then start feeling simultaneously guilty and overwhelmed for not being a better blogger/blog friend. So I’m just going to say it this once. I’M SORRY! I SUCK AT LIFE! DRAGON EELS SHOULD EAT MY FACE!

That being said, I haven’t written for lack of topic. Everyday I write a million ideas down on pieces of scrap paper- but those seem to get lost in the clusterfuck that is my purse. Other times I write things down on my hand- but somehow- even though I rarely shower (Hey! I’m just doing my part to be green) it  smudges off and all I’m left with is a scraggly “mdio ___ asdji” and I don’t even know Japanese, so that does me no good.

More than anything, I feel that I should catch you up on the happenings of my life as of late, but I don’t know where to start. So much has happened, yet so little. In order to get started in blogging again in an orderly fashion, I decided to ask the ye ole faithful people of twitter and facebook for a few words of inspiration. And by inspiration I didn’t mean encouraging words, because that would have done crap. I just asked for random words, which I will now try  to justify by relating them to the events of my life the last few weeks. Which is sort of like an improv game, and I love that.

Here.We.Go….. Or. Something. Like. That.

From @technicalparent –Diffident: I’m not gonna lie, I had to look this one up. It means something like “hesitant to speak because of lack of self confidence.” Hmmmmmmmm….. HMMMMMMMMM. This may be a stretch, but there have been a few times these last few weeks where I’ve had to test my comfortability-ness. (I believe that if you add “ness” to any word, it makes it correct. Your face.) Not so much in the realms of speaking, but more when it comes to my body. Like the other day, I wore a pair of pants that were way to big. I couldn’t even walk without my pants falling down and that wasn’t cool. I’m pretty sure tens of people saw my panties. And then just this Monday I made the mistake of wearing a shirt that was too big without a tanktop. I had to tuck the sleeves around my bra straps. In my office. Because I’m classy like that. But none of those compare to the fact that the entire nation of campers saw me in all my glory when I decided to sleep in a tent, in the nude, with the flap open, on 4th of July weekend. Just trying to serve my country, Yanno.

From @KidtoGrownUp– Swizzle Stick: I’m not sure what that means but I’m assuming you mean that stick that makes my car go. Right? Actually I have had some issues with that lately. For the last three years or so I’ve had to have a screw driver in the hole just to get my car to get out of park. The other day I couldn’t get it in the hole. It just… wouldn’t go in. Turns out there was a bobby pin stuck in there.

BAHAHAHA. This is actually a true story.

From @SamtheMailman (AKA my white trash twitter hub) Noodles: I can’t eat them. I don’t do well with bread at all. I’m pretty sure I’m allergic. But I absolutely love them. So last week I decided to go ahead and splurge on some spicy korean ramen dish at Pei Wei. It wasn’t great so I added about 2 cups of Rooster sauce. I still can’t sit right.

From @MrCondescending– Nocturnal: That is precisely what I’ve been for the last few months. Only, unfortunately, I’ve also had to be Dayturnal- which doesn’t make day- life very fun. I’ve always been a little bit nocturnal but I’m usually at least a little productive in the wee hours of the night. It doesn’t really affect me until I’m driving though, so no biggie- unless your one of the million people driving in Dallas during rush hour.

From @Leowuzhere Spatchula– hmmm Well I basically eat eggs everyday so I use a “spatula.” But Spatchula.. That sounds like something spanish. I think that is what I shall call the corn that I have on my right toe. I suppose I can make that relevant to my last few weeks because that thing is UGGGLEEEE.

From @KarisaTellsAll Anesthesize: Just last night I took some Benadryl at about 1AM. I was definitely anesthesized. And felt like I drank a 12 pack this morning. In reality, I only had like 4 beers. Not cool Benadryl, not cool.

From @Technicalparent — Spelunking: While I did find a few alternative meanings for this word in the Urban dictionary, I’m gonna go with the actual meaning. Cave diving. Right? I cleaned out my car a couple weeks ago. I found about 30 dollars in quarters, 14 french fries, my glasses with one arm broken off, and about 3 pairs of panties. I have no idea why they are in my car.

From @hellofrancy Attraction: I only mention boys on my site for 3 reasons. A. They are douchenozzles from the present and need to be outed B. They are douchenozzles from the past and I can laugh about my time with them. Or C. I’m kinda smitten, but I don’t like to do that much. But I can always erase this so yes, I’m a but of a smitten pussycat, as the foreign might say. Besides that, I’ve also realized I have an attraction to brussell sprouts, which is quite surprising since I’ve spent my entire life making vomiting noises anytime I hear the word. I have also realized that cops still have an attraction to me. The other day I got a warning, because it seems that walking on a street is now illegal in Texas.

From @NickSilly Sailboat: I had a discussion about sailboats the other day. They seem like the worst kind of boating ever. Too much work.

From @Tequila_K –(1st choice) Karaoke: I have had a seriously lack of karaoke in my life the last few weeks.. but I’ve been thinking seriously about all the songs I want to sing in the near future.  If I don’t find someone to sing “Paradise By the Dashboard Light” with me in the next two weeks then I will eat raw chicken.

From @Tequila_K –(Second Choice) Tequila: My roommate LA introduced me to my new favorite drink evah! It’s called a Paloma. It’s grapefruit juice, tequila, soda, salt and lime… and it is the most refreshing thing that has ever hit my lips. Do it.

From @Tequila_K– (Put em’ Together) TequilaKaraoke: I hope this doesn’t offend you, but I know just what happens to me when I combine the two. You see, once I get a little bit of tequila in me, I will use absolutely anything as a microphone. And if I happen to be gettin it on? ….. crickets….. get it? Yeah, that’s what I call tequila karaoke. In the last few weeks though? No comment.

From @JeneyPeney (via facebook) Snorkel: Come on! Let’s refer to spelunkering. I could do so much with this, but I’m not gonna go there. And also I’m tired.

From @jpryan06 Persnickity: While urban dictionary tells me that “persnickity” can mean making out, I also happen to have looked up know that it can mean being nit picky, which I rarely am. You may be aware that I am one of the least nit picky people in the world. In fact, I probably won’t even spell check this mother before I hit publish. I have realized, that dating someone- makes me a little more conscious of the details when it comes to my body. I still haven’t mastered being lady like,and I most likely never will, but I have seriously put a major effort into shaving my legs, plucking my eyebrows, and cupping my hand over my chin when I notice I have a hair growing out of it. Being a “lady” is a lot of work.

From Eric via Facebook: Grease: I may have put a minor effort into being more lady like, but I still have a lot of that shiz in my hair. Nothing baby powder can’t fix though. Also, it’s the word.

From my HS Dance Teacher–Booger: Still hate them.

From JRoberts via facebook– Ointment: I haven’t used any. I have, started using under eyecream, which is sort of an ointment.

From @NickSilly Providential: I had to look this one up too. I’ve always been one to spout out my “beliefs” of fate, and how the universe works in mysterious ways, because I’ve always wanted to believe in those things, but really haven’t… I’ve even been known to bust out some Tarot cards in your face. Though I admit now that I completely bullshit my way through reading (kind of like I did here,) but I dunno. I keep finding myself thinking that things work out for a reason. I’ve been having all these weird dreams that I’m not going to go into, but it all seems to mean something. Bah. I’m tipsy. And probably going to erase this entire post. Mostly I’m hoping that Providential will work it’s ways on me and my neighbor will knock on my door with a giant bowl of hummus.

A girl can dream right?

I’ll see you sooner than later! Have a great weekend!