Make sure you check out Lilu’s site, and check out her TMI Thursday archives for all sorts of hilarity!

I’m gonna try to keep this short today, mostly due to the fact that I’m busy packing for my move next weekend. Just kidding. I haven’t started packing yet silly face. I’m just extremely ADD and have been sitting here in front of my computer for the last 4 hours, checking facebook, twitter, and watching stupid tv shows… and now that it’s 11:15 and I’m already ambiened up,  I don’t think I have many coherent minutes left in me.

My senior year of college I took an extensive Spanish class, which basically meant 3 hours of non-stop Spanish, 3 days a week. It was miserable.

What could possibly make 3 hours of abburido espanol even more excruciating?

I’ll tell you.

It was one of the first weeks of class, before I had spent a million hours with my fellow classmates and didn’t know anyone very well yet. I sat down, and as usual- attempted to quickly copy the answers from the back of the workbook. Which is something that I don’t understand, but I won’t get into that today.

So I’m sitting there when I notice a peculiar scent. A very pungent scent. To be more exact, it was of the “came from the ass region” variety.

I looked around, not sure whether I should bring it up, as I didn’t know who, or what, it had come from. It was pretty clear from the fact that it wasn’t waning, that someone hadn’t just broke wind.

I examined all of my neighbors, trying to figure out which one of them would be most likely not to wipe very well.

As I looked around the room, I could tell that I wasn’t the only person who was offended by the poo smell. A few people around me were snickering and looking around for the culprit.

I finally decided to speak up, and I asked the boys next to me, jokingly, if they had shit their pants. After a few minutes, pretty much the entire class was talking about the awful smell.

The teacher eventually asked what all the chatter was about. Everyone started laughing, and leave it to my big mouth to speak up.

“Ummmm… something smells REALLY bad in here.”

It was about that time that the quiet boy sitting behind me finally decided to speak up.

“Uh.. well it’s probably because you have a whole load of poop on the bottom of your shoe…”

I looked down at the foot that I had crossed around my knee, and sure enough… that sumofabiznitch was correct. There was a big load of dog shit on the bottom of my shoe.

Awesome.

Which leads me to last night.

I’m sitting here, at my computer, one leg up on the seat with my knee hugged against my chest like I always do… typing up a post- just as I am now… when I smell something rancid. My two boy roommates were both in the room, so I go ahead and assume it was one of them.

After a few more minutes the smell did not dissipate. I came to the conclusion that it seemed to be coming from me!

I hadn’t passed gas that I was aware of, but I decided to sit for a few more moments just to make sure.

I keep my shit clean people. I mean that as much as one can mean that. I may not shower EVERY day, but I’m clean.

Even so, the scent was coming from somewhere so close to my, well my nether-region, that I was sure of. Eventually, I decided to suck it up and bend my head down to get a closer smell.

EWWWWWWW

Something wasn’t right. I went to the bathroom to check things out, as anyone would in my situation, and came out even more confused. I smelled just fine.

I came back to my desk and assumed my position and the smell was back. Suddenly, I remembered the Spanish class incident and checked my shoe.

All was right in the world once again.

My ass didn’t smell.

There was poo on my shoe.

WIN!!!

Yeah… I don’t do them well.

I know I posted the other day about how I truly believe there are no mistakes… and I still believe that. I really do.

But that being said- when it comes to choosing between one thing or another, or whether or not to do something, or even thinking about the fact that I have a choice in the matter… sometimes I  feel like I suck big, hairy, man tits.

Figuratively speaking, of course.

Although I have licked one before on a dare. Or under the influence of alcohol… I can’t remember.

I’m pretty sure I spend half of my life debating in my brain whether or not I should do something. When I finally decide what I will do, then starts the debate as to how I should go about it. And then once I finally do the thing in question, I analyze for hours as to whether or not I made the right decision. And then I analyze what other people might be thinking of my decision. And whether or not I should even care.

I was originally going to post my test-ad for Craiglist, trying to find a free Life-Coach (with benefits?)… but WordPress hates me and I lost it, and I was too lazy to try to recreate it, so you get this instead.

Lately it seems I have some big decisions weighing on my shoulders. Like, where the hell am I going to live in 3.5 weeks when my lease is up? Should I just bite the bullet and move to away  and give this comedy stuff a shot? Should I go back to school and get my masters?

I really related to Shine’s post yesterday about her struggle with censorship on her blog. Every day before I hit publish, I sit back and try to think about who I could be offending. I wonder if people in my life who read this will assume that I am talking about them. I debate about whether or not I should even be sharing the shiz that I put out there, or if it is better that I keep my crazy head to myself.  As much as I have talked about this and have tried to adopt Shine’s philosophy of “it’s my blog and I’ll write I want to,” I know I will still contemplate these things.

It’s not always even the big things that get to me. In fact, usually it’s the little insignificant things that get to me the most.

Let’s reflect over a few of my small yet majorly time consuming decisions that I struggle with daily, shall we?

And yes… I realize I’m quite ricockulous.

*Whether or not to wear a jacket: I leave jackets places as often as Perez Hilton fucks is an asshole, and jackets are expensive. I have to constantly weigh out whether or not having a numb body is more important than losing an 80 dollar coat. Plus, half the time, even if I want to wear a jacket because it is 33 degrees outside (like it is now) I don’t know where any of them are. So then I have to decide if I should invest the time to look for said jacket, or just make a freezing cold run for it. And more so?  Dude. I live in Texas. You never know what a fall/winter/spring day will bring. If I wear the jacket, I usually end up with sweaty armpits. And if I don’t? All my arm hair, plus an additional 3 inches grows back.

*Whether to get the hell up and ready, or push snooze 14 more times: I’m not even sure why I bother with this one. But I do, every. single. morning.    My alarm goes off at 6:30. I snooze until 6:40. This is the time when I start debating whether I should get in the shower, blow dry my hair, watch 20 minutes of Good Morning America while I think about fixing my hair but usually don’t and  instead choose to eat a grapefruit in bed. Or whether I should continue to snooze until 7:15 when I will jump out of bed in a panic, throw on dirty clothes, brush my teeth, grab a banana, and run out the door with my clothes inside out. 99.98767899936 percent of the time push snooze at least 9 times and I show up at work looking like a person from underneath the stairs.

*Whether or not to go out: This is always a question that requires a lot of thought. I mean, if I choose to go out, that usually means that I have to shower (which I detest) and that I have to find something to wear. Then I have to think about whether or not I am actually in the mood to be social. Do I have money? Are my eyebrows plucked? Is there even anyone going to be there that I want to talk to? Am I having an ugly-face day? Not that these questions really matter much in the real decision making process… It usually all comes down to who is guest hosting  SNL tonight? and do I have beer at home?

*What to eat for dinner: For my roommates and I, this is literally the most difficult decision that we have to come to as a group, daily. The texts usually start somewhere between 2 and 3pm, once lunch starts to wear off. Our conversations are pretty much always the same.

Me: I’m hungry, what should we do for dinner?

Jake: meeee toooo… I’m craving Mi Cocina!

Me: We can’t afford Mi Cocina, plus then we’ll have the runs, and have to run afterward to burn off that 5000 calorie Limbo Taxi we will have.

Jake: urghhhhhhh….. well what do we do?

Me: I’m having 3 pieces of un-cooked rice.

Jake: I’m having 8 baked beans so that I can keep full longer.

Me: I’m having water.

Jake: I’m having air.

And then we usually decide to meet at home to discuss our options before we go to the store, which usually results in us sitting around for two more hours starving… so we either settle on fish and veggies that we have in our freezer, or we wait another additional hour before we go to the store, each of us emerging with a tv dinner and a bottle of wine. But it’s all good because by that time, I have already eaten off all of my fingers and I’m not even hungry anymore.

I really just want a feeding tube. I think that would solve everything.

*Do I, or don’t I applaud at the end of a movie: Yes. I’m a clapper. What? I like showing my appreciation. Plus it feels really validating when you clap first and everyone else joins in. But you always risk the chance that no one will join in, causing you to be the lone-idiot-slow clapper.

*To drink or not to drink: I more apt to go with the “to” on this one. I still have at least five minutes of internal debate.

*And more importantly, to ambien or not to ambien: This debate doesn’t have to do so much with actually taking it, it’s more as to whether or not I will actually get into bed after the fact. And after I take it, the decision is really no longer up to me.

*Whether or not to speak up: Dude, this is the worst. I’m an honest person. I believe in telling the truth, but there are some situations where I am just at a loss as to whether or not I should speak my mind or put myself out there. I’m talking about in multiple types of situations, with friends,with guys, at work… whatever. I never know what to do when friends who ask for my opinion about a situation, especially when I know that telling someone the truth could possibly hurt them. I also constantly struggle with putting my feelings out there when I know it could result in getting hurt myself. I decided a while back not to play games, and lately I’ve been taking more risks with my words…. Still not sure how well that is working out.

*Whether or not I should check my bank account: A lose/lose situation. I check it and am either completely bummed or I see that I actually have money and then proceed to overspend. Or I don’t check it and proceed to overspend. Conundrum.

*To pee, or not to pee: Well, I don’t usually think about this too much. I usually just go when I gotta go. Preferably in a toilet, and not as a result of a sneeze. But right now I feel that I have to go, but I really don’t feel like getting up until I finish this, and I also know that the toilet is going to freeze my ass off, and I actually kind of like my ass. But after thinking about it the last few minutes, I think I’m going to go ahead and pee so I don’t sneeze and accidentally pee my pants or something.

Happy Weekend party people!

My brain isn’t on “write” mode just yet, but I will attempt to put at least a little information out there. “Attempt” being the key word here. I know, I know… it’s Tuesday… what the hell is wrong with me? I don’t know!!! I usually have the hardest time sleeping, but last night it was like someone, finally after 3 weeks, shut my brain off and tied my eyelids closed with steel. It was the first night in a long time that I’ve slept without either ambien or alcohol, which was great! Except for the fact that I am still exhausted today. I don’t feel like I’m coming down with anything, so I’m just gonna go with- the last month (or 3) have finally caught up with me, and that’s ok.

Bear with me, but first of all -I feel I need to play a little catchup on the goings on of my life, for those of you who are interested.

First off, I know I briefly mentioned it a while back, but last weekend I went down to Houston to see a dance show that my friend had written. This is a girl who I have known since I was about 9 through the community theater program in my hometown, but I hadn’t seen her in nearly 10 years. Craziness! She was always a great friend, but she really caught me off guard when she got in touch with me a while back and told me that she was now teaching dance and performing in Houston, and that she had written a dance show inspired by me! ME?

I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, and I’m glad I Jupiter or some other planet didn’t get in the way either. The story was based on a dancer named Carissa who along with her “soul,” (also named Carissa) takes a journey to a dark side and then in the end it appears she dies at a rave. I was a little sad that I died, but in the end she does appear to be brought back to life. My friend said there are several ways that you could look at it, but I’m choosing to go with she was just so tired after that crazy rave, that she decided to take a nap,  and her soul awakens her so that she doesn’t miss the new episode of Chuck. THAT I could relate to today.

The best part of the weekend was getting to catch up with my friend after all of these years, and also getting to spend some time with some of my other old friends who I don’t get to see very often.

Then this last weekend I got to spend some quality time doing nothing but laugh and watch movies with another group of friends that I don’t see often, even though they live fairly close.  I have realized that I have at least 10 people who I would fit into the BFF category, but it is sad how little most of these have to do with my everyday life These last two weeks have kind of made me nostalgic. It’s weird how much time goes by, and even though I’m conscious of the importance that these people have in my life, I rarely get the chance to tell them. I’ve also been thinking about how strange it is that people weave in and out of our lives, touching us in ways that they never have before with each appearance.

Anyways, I’m not trying to get all sentimental on your asses, I think I did enough of that last week.

So let’s move on to some post-it’s, shall we? For more great post-it’s check out Supah Mommy’s blog! It is the bomdiggity! or as it is more cooly said these days, the diggity!

Cocktimus prime

A limp Cocktus

Hard to believe that is the same fellah! Such a sad sad day.

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(I know that not all of you can watch videos at work, but I swear on all that is great on this earth, this video is worth your time. )

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Oh and both you Bill’s still have nothing on my boyfriend John Cusack. Though I do think Google is catching on to my evil plan to make this news known to the world. I keep dropping in Google searches, but I’m determined to make this happen. I will not give up. Suckas!

And this is a little unrelated, but that’s how I role. Lately whenever I’m feeling down, The Weepies have been my turn to music. I am not a fan of the puppets in this video, but I love love this song. And pretty much all of their music… Check it, fools.

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*Please imagine these “cheers” as being of the beer or shot variety. You know, the kind where you raise your glass, then tap it on the table before you take a sip. The other night my friends and I made the mistake of doing the “table tap” with a glass of champagne, and it just didn’t feel right.

Cheers to fall. And more specifically October. Tis one of the two months of the year where the weather is nearly perfect round these here parts. I love everything about fall. I love watching the trees change, I love not sweating my ass off when sitting on the porch, and I even like “watching” a football game every once in a while. Also, my hair seems to do particularly well in this fine weather.

Cheers to Halloween. Halloween, though it technically could fall under the larger umbrella of fall, is so awesome that it deserves its own cheers. In fact, some people really get into  decorating their houses for Christmas, but I would really like to push the less popular trend of decorating houses for Halloween. How great would it be to drive around looking at scary decorations? I’m thinking if you really put your heads together with your neighbors, every neighborhood could be like a giant Haunted house.  I also really love carving pumpkins. Scrap that. I like to watch as other, craftier people carve the pumpkins, but I like to be the one who pulls out all of the gunk.

Cheers to socks. I am the queen of flip flops, but there is nothing like the feeling of putting on a pair of fuzzy socks, a pair of sweats, and curling up under a cozy blanket. It’s finally the time of year where I don’t break out into upper lip sweat from just looking at socks.

Cheers to the Backstreet Boys. I’m not really a fan, but I have to give these boys some props for their comeback effort. I haven’t listened to pop music in years, but there is a little bitty section in the left corner of my heart that still has some boy band love. I really really had a thing for NSYNC, but I guess The Backstreet Boys is the next best thing. Plus, there is something about old guys singing and dancing like they are still in their late teens/early twenties that just makes me smile.

Cheers to New Kids On the Block. Because I can.

Cheers to getting to dress like a zombie. Ok, I realize I am getting a little specific here, but I  feel it’s my duty to  give these things the justice they deserve. Respect, people. I know most girls (and some boys I know) like to dress a little slutty for Halloween. I understand the logic behind it. It is after all, the only day of the year where you can go out scantily dressed without people actually thinking you are a hoe. I think it might be my upbringing, (I was started on horror movies at a very young age) but Halloween just isn’t as fun unless I dress scary.

Last year I was Regan Macneil from The Exorcist

I thought I had more pics on-line of Halloween costumes past, but I guess I deleted them. All you have to know is that I was pretty much dead or possessed for the last few years. This year my friends and I are dressing up as Ghouls Gone Wild. I asked my roommate J. how I should make scary saggy boobs for the costume, and he told me I should just go without a bra. Thanks friend.

Cheers to yummy beer. Can I raise a glass of what I’m drinking, to what I’m drinking? Sure I can. YAYYYYYYY beer! There is something about the weather change that really makes a beer more appealing.

The best beer in Texas... or at least the cheapest.

Cheers to good music on long walks outside. I know I’ve may have taken this “fall” thing a little far, but it really has been amazing. I get so sick of working out at the gym with all those chode heads, so it has been a really nice change to take advantage of the 9 mile trail by my house. Never mind that I will probably never be able to go all 9 miles without dying. Still, there is something to be said for walking outdoors, watching families play football and seeing all the cute puppy dogs. Yesterday I saw a guy on a bike whose bra was clearly visible through his white t-shirt. Yes, I saw a guy wearing a bro. That was possibly the best thing I’ve seen all month, but I don’t really see the problem with it. If ya got em’, support em’! I have to also raise my hand to good music on this one. There are certain songs that I literally have to stop myself from skipping along to. One of my favorites to work out to lately is Umphrey’s Mcgee.

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Cheers to old friends. I absolutely love my friends. Last weekend, my friend LA cleaned out her closet and gave me 7 pairs of Banana Republic pants that she has grown out of, and a pair of Sevens jeans. I literally didn’t have any pants to wear this winter, and she has saved my life. The company she works for, Philip Stein, is also announcing their sleep bracelet today which I am really excited about. You’ll have to google it yourself for the details, but from what I hear- it is a bracelet that has been compared to ambien in its ability to help you get some zzzzz. Doesn’t seem possible, but we shall see.  It was so nice to catch up last weekend with people who I haven’t seen in a while.

My friend Moops has recently been reading this a little more often, and I think he deserves a shout out. Don’t tase me for this, bro.

Ohhhhh... the moment you realize the shirt you tried to steal has Carebears on it.

Cheers to new friends. I’m talking to you, fellow bloggers and people of the internet. I am really beginning to love this part of my life. You have made me laugh so many times in the last few weeks, and I am really enjoying this new journey!

I have told you before that technology hates me. Like, bad.  I pick up a phone, and it loses service. I sit in front of a computer, and it completely quits working. Since I’ve been at my current job, (for a year and a half) I’ve gone through 3 computers.

3 computers. One which was brand new.

I’m sure my bosses think I’m on porn sites all day contracting computer AIDS, purposely sabotaging my computers so I have an excuse not to work. In actuality, I have NO FREAKING IDEA how or why these computers keep breaking on me. I treat them well. I run anti-virus programs regularly, and I’m very careful about what sites I go to. The only reasonable explanation that I can think of, is that I have been possessed by a frequency demon. I’m not sure it is actually a frequency demon. It may be a computer demon or a technology demon, but I personally think frequency demon has a better ring to it.

But I digress.

I will state for the record now, I am in no way responsible for my current state of, yet again, being without a work computer.

I’ll start from the beginning. (Imagine the following told to you in a ghost story voice. It’s not the most exciting story ever… but I think that will help.)

Last Friday was a normal day at work. It was rainy, and I was planning on leaving early to head to Austin to see my little sister.

As usual, my bosses left (even earlier) to go either hunting, golfing, or fishing… I forget which- on this dark and foreboding day. As usual, I cleared my internet history and shut my lap top down before I headed out.

*Side note- I actually have two work computers. My desktop has Vista, and the marketing software I use, naturally does not work on Vista. Therefore, my bosses begrudgingly had to get me a second computer to use for marketing purposes. A computer which I need in order to get anything done.

Monday morning I came back into work. It was still raining, and I was in a particularly foul mood. The bosses were going to be out until Wednesday, but regardless, since I had left early on Friday, I had plenty of work to do. The early morning was business as usual. I updated the blog, checked my email, and caught up on my friend’s weekends via facebook. Around 10:00 am I turned around to start up my laptop and get started on some mailings.

DUN DUN DUN….

The laptop…. was gone.

At this point I actually didn’t think much of it, and I was a teensy bit excited that I DID have an excuse not to spend the rest of my day swamped with the monotonous task of sending out mailings. The bosses have taken the laptop with them on their hunting trips before, (as my screen saver slide-show of dead deer proved) and I figured that they had taken it again to showcase their killings. Plus, the case was gone- so I was confident that they had packed it up, because the case was nowhere near the actual computer. So I spent the next two days outwardly cursing my bosses for leaving me bored and with nothing to do, but inwardly thanking the heavens that I had extra time to do as I pleased. By late Tuesday though, I was as bored as I have ever been on a 13 hour road trip with my parents. I was racing to answer the phone. Giving insurance quotes never seemed so fun.

First thing Wednesday morning when the bosses returned I popped right in their office to ask for the laptop.

Boss: Distracted that I’d come in without knocking “Ummm… OK.. we’ll get it for you.”

I returned to my desk and about 5 minutes later I was called back into their office.

Boss: “Did you say something about the laptop?”

Me: “Umm yeah… I need it back, so I can… do some work.”

Boss: “Well where is it?”

Me: “Uh… umm… you… have it?”

Boss: “Noooooooo…..”

By this time, everyone in the office (all 6 of them) were up and in the bosses office, eager to know what we were discussing. I explained how I thought that they had taken the computer to put their pictures of bloody deer on, and they acted surprised at the prospect that I would think they would do such a thing. There was no sign of foul-play. No broken windows. Nothing else was missing. We looked in every drawer, under every desk, and in every corner of our tiny office. They asked me about five times if I was sure I didn’t accidentally take it.

Oh sure, I packed a laptop and carried it out without realizing it.

Did I? I seriously started questioning my sanity. I clearly remember leaving the office and driving straight to Ft. Worth to meet up with my friend LA, and we headed to Austin as soon as I got there. But what if I had a crazy drunk ambien moment and drove back to Dallas, stole the computer, and drove back to Austin without even remembering it?

Ok, even I am not that crazy.

The bosses called the cops and talked in length to the owner of the building. They all concluded that, besides the cleaning ladies who the building-owner fully trusts, there is no way that anyone could have gotten into our office without a key.

Its been nearly a week now and there are no new leads. Oh sure, there have been the daily jokes… “So Carissa, if you just bring the laptop back- no charges will be made.” Or the ever so clever, “So, hows that laptop treatin you? You sure were smart in stealing your own work computer to have an excuse not to work.”

I’m over this shit. Even if they decide to get me a new computer, it will take me at least a week to get everything set up again… that is if my software is even compatible.

So I’ve decided to take matters in my own hands. Seriously, I’m thinking of coming to work tomorrow donning a trenchcoat and very large pipe. I WILL get to the bottom of this.

In other words… To whoever is out there, typing away on my work laptop. I hope you are enjoying yourself right now. Because in the very near future (*shaking fist) “I’M GONNA GET YOU!!!!!

*to take an ambien and possibly risk ambien drinking and waking up late or to not take an ambien and risk not being able to sleep until 3:00am and waking up late..

*to leave my spot on the couch a little bit early and stand in my closet for 30 minutes trying to find something that fits me to wear to work tomorrow, or to  enjoy myself for just a little longer- but wake up late and wear wrinkled dirty clothes…

*eat some yummy chips and salsa and feel guilty about eating late night carbs, or resist the urge and instead satisfy my salty urge with a bag of chex mix from the vending machine in the morning…

*Conan, Letterman, or Scrubs reruns… or read…

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions…

What’s a girl to do?

I picture myself giving my Academy Award acceptance speech, and  receiving kisses of congratulations from John Cusack and James Franco. I see myself as a guest on This American life, and afterward Ira Glass takes me out for a picnic dinner where his melodic voice puts me in a trance by telling me his own life story.  Whenever I drive, I imagine that my life is a movie- and whatever song is on in the background determines the reason that I am driving, in this particular scene of the movie. In fact, right now I’m imagining  myself eating a big bowl of pasta instead of this freezer-burned lean pocket that I have doused with Tabasco sauce in order to make it semi-edible. I basically pride myself on being able to daydream myself out of any situation.

At night, it is a whole other story.

I rarely “night dream,” probably because when I go to sleep- I have usually passed out from ambien, benadryl or wine…

But when I do dream at night, my brain seems to lose all sense of humor, creativity, and variety. It probably means something ominous, but I never have happy dreams. I have never dreamt that I was flying, or that I’ve won the lottery. Nope. My brain seems to only have 4 dreams on the dreamreel that it enjoys torturing me with- time and time again.

The first and least scary, is the very common “teeth falling out” scenario. Sometimes this dream plays out like that episode of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” where Charlie loses one tooth, then  keeps pulling them out just to see if he can. Other times I will be eating something in the dream, and I notice a gritty feeling in my mouth. I spit and realize that my teeth are slowly crumbling into bits that feel like sand. I’ve heard that these dreams can mean that I’m feeling guilty about something or that I am not in control of a situation in my life… and suppose either of these interpretations could ring true.

I also tend to dream about life in a  post-apocalyptic world. I used to have tornado dreams all the time, where the wind would lift my body as my fingernails dug into the earth in an attempt not to end up in Munchkin land. In more recent years, the disaster has progressed from mere windstorm- to total destruction of the entire earth. Usually in this dream I find myself in a building with a few random people that I have known in my life. We are drifters and are the only people left on  earth. Sometimes we venture out in groups through the fire and smoke filled streets to try to find a rat to munch on. Buildings are falling everywhere and sometimes I think I see a glimpse of one of my parents or a friend. I usually wake up around this point in a panic…

Another dream I have more and more often lately- is the one where I am back in high school or college, and I have no idea when the last time I went to class was, or where any of my classes are. I have been out of school for five years and I still convince myself in my sleep that I have missed 3 exams and there is no possibility of my getting to graduate. I also wake up from these dreams in a panic; but it is the best feeling in the world to realize that instead of missing a semester of school and not knowing where I’m going- I have to go to work, and have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with my life.

The fourth recurring dream is by far the worst. I’m kind of embarrassed to tell you about it, even though it has never really happened in real life. Here goes. I have these awful nightmares where I am at work or some other public place and I have to go to the bathroom really really bad. To be clear- when I say “go” to the bathroom, I do mean go go to the bathroom. In these dreams, the urgent feeling suddenly comes to me and I am filled with great fear.  I can hear my co-workers calling my name as I rush by, knowing that something is terribly wrong. Just as I open the bathroom door, I know it is too late. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination, but the scenario always ends the same. Someone comes to check on me, and I have to tell them the truth. Even in my dreams I know that there is no escaping walking into an office smelling and looking as if I just took a swim in a sewer without anyone noticing. I always wake up from these dreams  amazed that I don’t  have to go go in real life.

I’ve tried looking up what the significance of this dream in numerous online dream dictionaries to no avail. I suppose it could just be a warning to me about whatever shitstorm is coming my way. Let me know if you are a dream intrepeter and can solve this little mystery.

I have had a really tired week. I drank a little too much every night, and now, finally, I have drinken 4 beers followed by a little friend called ambien… and i feel wweeeiiiirrrrd. don’t judge this writing. I love spell check though. it makes ya smell good.. spell good i think i mean. wowwwsa. It should be time to go to bed, but this is an experiment.

so there are things I have been wanting to talk about. One of them being the fact that the other night my roommates and i decided to have a salsa cookoff. In order to do so, we had to take a trip to the most (i can’t think of the word to put here) ________  grocery store in dallas….. DRUMMMMM ROOOOLLLLL>>>> The Central Market.

This place is absolutely like an amusement park for older, richer people, You don’t have as many rides, but there are so many things to look at. We always start out in the veggies, and pick up each strange specimen wandering how it would be edible in any country. There are big round yellow things (maybe egg-plant?) I dont knows… either way there is a shit ton of crazy shit to see and touch,

But in this case we were making salsa, so we went grab crazy for every type of pepperish plant we could get our hands on. For example, my basket was chopped full of poblanos, jalapenos, green chili, bell peppers and jabaneros. Maybe some other stuff too. I had to be reminded that if I’m making salsa I should probably get some tomatoes and onions and shit too. So I did that. Ok im losing my mind track. but im still pullin through. Bear (not the animal)  with this ambien head.

We then, for no reason at all travel around the corner to the meats. There are many that look very yummy, and if I wasn’t so poor and just in the mood to make salsa, I would have bought all of them. at least the tuduckerlkjre .. I don’t remember what its called, but its like a duck in a chicken stuffed in a turkey, or something like that. this is getting weirder.

so next we (for the first time in our lives) skip past the wine section, and are on a mission to try and find the most normal thing that could be sold in a central market. tomato paste. YAYYYYY it was there, bear.

So now I had lost my roommates but I knew they would be in the cheese section.. and oh yes i was right. Our house would seem like a fun house (as it does now in my state) if we did not keep mucho cheeses and smelly cheeses and garlic cheeses at our disposal. They go bad if you don’t cover them well, or so I have been scolded.

After the cheeses, we are pretty much in the clear, unless we catch eyes with the icecream like stuff… whats it called.. not custard but something like it. This time we didn’t come out with a large tub so I feel we won that war. I did have to run back through the maze to grab a couple protein bars, but that only took a second. Usually standing in the line is the worst. On average we usually leave with about 3  extra “line” grabs (chex mix, sweet peanuts, carrot chips, fried garlic,) but on this day i believe im the only one who came out with something like this, but now I can’t remember what it was.

We get home, and begin the race to get our salsas finished before our stomachs waged war against each other in the kitchen. We had 2 food processors, and a vegetable chopper that we literally had to hold up knives and wage ambien pills in order to get to use the utensils.

I can’t go into much more detail as I am falling asleep and putting readers to sleep. I will give you the non Julie Powell’s version of the recipe for my green chili salsa, which i think is pretty much a mutha bomb.

Ingredients:

8 roasted green chilis.

4 jabanero peppers

5 home-grown jalapenos from my garden

2 white onions

5 poblano peppers

maybe 6-9 peices of fresh garlic

cilantro- not a lot not a little

some spices.. maybe some cumin, a little vinegar, something red if you have it like red pepper (ground)

one small can of tomato paste

Preparation:

Cut that shit up as small as you can. I just kinda cut it and then through it into a processor to grind it all for me.

repeat as many times as you need with the peppers, and add more to taste.

clean your hands very nicely and as long as you have no open cuts on your hands you should be fine to moosh that shit around with your hands and it feels pretty cool too.

Then its prob best to put it over some heat and let it simma down now, so that it tastes flavorful. at this point- hopefully you have been on ambien or at least drinking and you will think it is delious too. Maybe I’ll try to post this again tomorrow once Im semi refressed. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I’ve all but given up on the genre. Every time I get excited about a trailer, I end up being entirely disappointed in the movie. I haven’t even gone to the theater to see a horror film since Frank Darabont’s, The Mist, and even he let me down. I’m not going to say that everything that has come out is complete shit, but I am saying that nearly everything is.

I was actually pretty impressed with A Haunting in Connecticut which I watched on dvd this week. It wasn’t that it was a good movie per se, it just wasn’t as horrible as anything else I’ve seen recently. I would go into a deeper review of this particular movie, but the last part of it is a little ambien-blurred… which may have played a part in my liking of it. I will say that they made a nice marriage of the clichéd “haunted house” element, and the clichéd “weak person imagining things-not really seeing them,” element. I did think that while the acting wasn’t horrible -the dialogue was- and for a “based on true events” film, it was pretty unrealistic.

One film that did catch my attention is The Orphan I knew not to get overly excited when I saw that the director, Jaume Collet Serra’s only other film was House of Wax. However it does have every element that you need to have a potentially successful horror flick.

First, you’ve got Peter Sarsgaard. His creepy John Malkovich sounding voice is probably enough to land any movie a spot on the “horror” shelf at your local Blockbuster. Then throw in a creepy little kid that has the uncanny ability to manipulate everyone around her; a naive couple; a big giant house, and another kid who sees the evil in the first kid and no one believes him.

Then of course add in the most important element of all, the twist.

The twist has become a staple in Hollywood horror films. If there were no twist, the viewer would leave the movie wanting more. Scary movies have become more about keeping the audience on their toes, then making them pee their pants. Usually I’m all for this. I was genuinely thrilled in the moment when I found out all of the characters were actually personalities of a murderer in Identity. Hell, I’m pretty sure I had a full out geek-gasm in the moment that I discovered Bruce Willis was dead the whole time.

That being said, a friend sent me a (spoiler alert) site that reveals the twist to The Orphan. I really don’t even know how to react except for saying that  Hollywood,  you’ve officially jumped the shark.

**this post was written yesterday (Monday.)

Today was a crazy craptastic sort of Monday. I woke up to thunder, forgot my lunch, realized my pants looked like hammer pants and my shirt kept coming unbuttoned. On top of that, I actually got called a mother-f*cker by a customer. ewwww.

So, I decided tonight there is absolutely nothing I would rather do than be nostalgic for my weekend. Which, lets be honest; except for a few things- was a pretty bad ass weekend. Here I’ll show you!

First off some of my friends and I went to see the Fray.  While they are not my favorite band in the world, we ended up having a blast!!

There is a good chance we got more of a kick out of laughing at drunk teenagers than we did out of the actual concert.

We certainly didn’t skimp on the 12 dollar beers at the venue.

We left the concert happy, and had a nice Michael Jackson/old rap song sing along to prepare ourselves for some karaoke. Some where along the way I lost a flip flop. This wasn’t the first time in the last month. or even the 3rd.

Unfortunately, We got there a little late to really get much singing in. Don’t think that didn’t stop me from joining a random guy in singing America’s “Sister Golden Hair onstage, as well as performing a dance along to a performance of  “All That Jazz.” The latter ended with a drunk old weirdo trying to crawl under my dress and one of my girlfriends almost kicking his ass. The first part part of this situation being rather disgusting, the second-pretty bad ass.

The  night didn’t end particularly well, and I won’t go into details. I’ll just say sometimes humans can be major assholes.

The next morning, I was in a particularly foul mood, and spent the majority of it feeling sorry for myself. In an effort to improve my mood, a few of my friends decided that what I needed was to jump the diet ship and go for a big delicious hamburger. In order to ensure that it was worth it, they drove me 50 minutes away to enjoy a burger at Carl’s Jr.

After eating, my weekend took a dramatic turn for the better. I decided it would be an excellent idea to buy a ten dollar scratch off lottery ticket. My friends disagreeing with me made it seem like an even better idea. Even though I’ve never won more than a free diet coke at McDonalds, I figured that the way my day was going it couldn’t get any worse.

And I was right! With every scratch I won another ten dollars to total a whopping $200. I know to some this may not seem like much, but to me- it was just as exciting as winning one of those convertables in the mall.

Needless to say, I became a little more chipper.

Oh yeah, I was still wearing the same dress from the night before, don’t judge.

Since I was in major need of some retail therapy (and have made a recent vow to see how long I can go only shopping at resale shops) I decided to take my newly earned lottery money and have some fun at the local Goodwill. Why I did not take any pictures of this, I do not know. We found some amazingly horrible gems that school teachers around the world (no offense mom) would have gone ape shit over.

A little later we made our way to one of my roommate’s mother’s surprise birthday party at a little dive in Lewisville.

Near the beginning of the night, I really didn’t think I would make it 20 minutes, I was so tired. Turns out, all I needed was a few cocktails before I was singing on stage with the entertainment.

I ended up pretty much staying on stage for the remainder of the evening. I have some pretty awesome (err) videos that I will upload as soon as I can figure out how. Some of the highlights include Jake and my rendition of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody”, and Denny and I singing yelling “You’ve Lost that Lovin Feeling.” And of course I can’t forget (although I’d like to) my hour sing along to old George Straight songs with a drunk cowboy, or the all too embarrassing free style that I did to “Bust a Move.”

Here are a few other images so you can get an idea how our night went down. I’m not proud my roommate’s grandmother was there to witness this!

Eventually, It was time for me to be carried  and disposed of in our hotel room by our bartender Luke. He looked kind of like Kevin Smith, and wore a shirt that said “Ever rode a fat guy, want to?” Thank goodness I have friends who wouldn’t have let me endure that experience. Nevertheless, I must have been feeling a little frisky, bc at some point during the night I felt the need to undress. Thank goodness my the only other people who could have witnessed this were gay, and were too passed out to know anything was amuck.

I woke up in a panic when I realized I slept the entire night under the cardboard-ish motel sheets, that we all know are never cleaned, and knew that I had probably either contracted a bad case of lice or bed bugs… or worse.

We also woke up to discover we didn’t get a bargain on our hotel room as we had thought, but had actually probably over paid.

If that's not ghetto, I dunno what is

This didn’t make us very happy.

we didn't feel very well, naturally

We decided to make our selves feel better, with a big breakfast… in a little shanty. Our waitress told the family next to us that she did not like children, “Because they smell like shit, ther dirty, ther stupid, and i jist dont likem.” The little red head girl at the table didn’t seem very stupid, and didn’t seem very happy about this at all.

I ordered all of this. I almost ate it all. I am not proud.

=the a inch to my gut.

After this I spent a little time in the pool, where I had a slight relapse of depression, so decided to emotionally eat once again.

$30 seafood platter

By the time we left Red Lobster I had no choice but to go back on the dieting wagon, as I had no more lottery money with which to indulge myself. I watched the “Haunting of Connecticut,” (which was ok) took and ambien, and went to sleep. I don’t know if this weekend was a success or fail, but my gut is telling me to go to the gym.