I know, I know… it’s been a kazillion bajillion years since the last time I uploaded this ole’ blog. For a while there, life got so busy that I completely forgot about it. Then one day I googled myself to try to find an article I had published once upon a time… and my blog was gone. I’m not gonna lie. It freaked me out a bit. I may not have the time to come here very often anymore, but I spent way too much time sharing my deepest darkest thoughts on this site to just let it fade away. Plus I have a horrible memory and I like to have a timeline for this particular time in my life.

And thus, I’ve decided to make yet another effort to keep this site going. I’m sure I’ve long been erased from every rss feed… I’m not sure people even use rss feeds anymore. The internet seems to have changed so much in the last year. WordPress is foreign to me. I had to search through years of emails just to find my password. Words are even different. I no longer understand internet speak. The people of the internet seem to have forgotten how to spell simple words… either that, or I may have gotten old.

One things for sure. 2011 has been the craziest year of my life.

When it started I was in an extremely dark place.  I’ve always considered myself a pretty happy person. Sure, I’m emotional as hell… but I had never before  really felt depression. Long story short, I spent the better part of 6 months working on how to get a grip on my life through various forms of therapy, meditation and yoga. I had fallen back into disordered eating, had anxiety about the things I used to love, and for a while I was convinced I had lost my fire.

Then I lost my job and had to get out of town for the weekend. I took a free improv workshop at the Institution theater here  in Austin, and decided not to leave. I signed up for classes, found a part time job, and found a couple of roommates on Craigslist. That was in May. I still haven’t made it back to Dallas.

I miss my friends. A lot. But to be honest, there is a part of me that doesn’t want to look back, at least not yet. It scares me to think about where I was 6 months ago. I know I’ve grown a lot this last year, and there is no way I’ll fall again that deep… but it still scares me. Plus I’m busy as hell here and I love it.

The last few months have been amazing. I’ve met so many wonderful people in this city and I thank all of you for your encouragement. People are good. I look around and I can’t believe how lucky I am to have so many inspirational people in my life. I could have never adjusted so quickly in a new city if it weren’t for my sister, the Austin Improv Community, and the kind listeners who have reached out to me.

And that being said, I owe a long over due thank you to over a hundred of you friends and readers who wrote  recommendation letters to help me land my dream job. I fully intended to write each of you to thank you, but time got away from me and for that, I apologize. Your letters and made me laugh and cry. I still can’t believe how many of you came through for me.

Moreover, I owe this new found happiness to those of you who supported me through my tough times. I know I haven’t been the best at staying in touch, but there are A LOT of you in the blogging community and old friends who put up with a lot of complaining, venting, and whining from me over the last year. You lifted me up and encouraged me to go for my dreams. I appreciate you. And I’m glad to be back in the living. I LOVE YOU!!!

You’ve been abandoned, you say? You sure do look like it. It looks like you haven’t been loved on in at least six months…. and you have so much potential! You don’t even have any followers or anything? THAT IS SAD! How could anyone just leave you out to fend for yourself in this wide world of webs?

Well no… I couldn’t possibly…. I can barely take care of myself…. Blogs take a lot of work. So much maintenance, so much attention…

Although…

Well, I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I used to have a blog once myself. A few even.

What happened? Well I suppose what always happens. I got burned out. I got bored. I didn’t feel like I had anything to offer the blog anymore. That, and I discovered how addicting Netflix Streaming videos are. Oh yeah, I’m telling you. First it was just an innocent flirtation with Doctor Who, then all of a sudden I found myself printing out little Tardis pictures and taping them to every disaster picture in American history. Then I watched Firefly, then went back and watched the entire series of 30 Rock (again), and it wasn’t until tonight- halfway through my second viewing of Doctor Who’s season 3- when I realized how much I missed my little bloggy.

Yes there I said it… I miss my blog. Oh, don’t look at me like that… that doesn’t change anything. I still might be a horrible blog owner. I would probably still forget about my blog for days. I don’t know if I have the energy to pay attention to the other neighborhood blogs every day like I used to. I don’t even remember how to blog properly!What if all I have to blog about is Doctor Who and how crazy David Tenant’s tongue is!?

But well…. I did just move to Austin and I’m kinda lonely…. and I suppose it would be kinda cool to document my new life in a new city. But let’s take it slow OK?  I don’t want to feel any pressure for real commitment… Like I said, I just moved here and I’m really enjoying  all this new-found freedom… the potential for self discovery… the opportunity for change. I don’t need some stupid blog coming back into my life and making me feel guilty for not spending enough time on it.

Although, now that you mention it, I forgot how much I missed talking to you… You do need a bit of a makeover, but I bet I can handle that… OK well hells bells. I’ve never been a gal to say no. Let’s do this!

(PEE. ESS.)

I have been trying to get myself to blog again for like 5 months… but I didn’t know how to start. I didn’t want to be all blah blah life is hard, I have problems, I want to listen to old Death Cab for Cutie albums and cry… so I just didn’t write.  I decided that now that I’m in a new city, I can’t put it off any longer- and so I am posting the cheesiest, most stupid blog ever… AND I DON”T CARE WHAT YOU THINK. Honestly, if there is anyone out there still reading please know I MISS YOU ALL. It has been a crazy 6 months, but I’m honestly so ready to start writing again. I’m excited about life, and I’m excited about getting back in touch with the interwebs.

Hearts and rainbows and unicorn kisses til next time!!!

Carissa

Since November is apparently the month of ambition and rash decisions, I’ve decided to add another one to my plate.
Yesterday I mentioned the phenomenon of NABLOPOMO, and laughed at the concept of trying to participate. Well since publishing my last blog, ( which by the way was actually published on November 1st but I can’t figure out how to set the military style time on WordPress so it always publishes to the day before,) I’ve decided that I will, in fact participate.
I can’t promise that I’ll write anything worth reading, or that the words will even be readable, or even in English for that matter- but I can promise that I am going to try my absolute damndest to write a little something every day in November. At first I was going to try to write on my other blog, but I’m not sure I’m up to facing that subject matter just yet. Right now I’m focused on trying to clear my mind and move on in life. So bear with me.

Also, since my blogs have been a little down in the dumpsters lately, I’m going to attempt to lighten up.

So… here I am. Ready to start. On day two of blogging about happy things every day for 30 days.

Hmmm..

Oh… well before I get started on happy things, I guess I should start with saying a few things about my dog BB Jellybean, who died last Friday.

BB Jellybean, You will be missed.

We got BB when I was in the 9th grade. My little sister decided that she wanted a toy poodle, so that’s what we got. BB didn’t often look like a poodle though. We loved the hell out of that puppy, but my parent’s always preferred the afro-look to the well groomed poodle look. I wince to think that I got my own personal grooming habits from my parent’s dog-grooming habits.

BB was never the typical pet. She didn’t like to go on walks. She didn’t like to chase after balls. She hated water, and she preferred to sleep on a purple velvet pillow. BB went everywhere with us, and she went there in our arms. She was never happier than when she was perched in my little sister’s lap. She belonged to all of us, but she was really my sister’s best friend. I remember when my sister was in the 5th grade and her best friend moved away, that she spent an entire day cuddled up with our little BB – stating over and over that BB was her best friend.

I feel awful that I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. The last time I went home, which was only a few weeks ago, BB wasn’t doing well but I didn’t think she would be going just yet. She lost her eyesight a few months back, and I noticed that her hearing must have been going too, because she didn’t greet me at the door when I arrived. I let her sleep in my bed that night, and when I woke up she had left me a couple little presents, but I really didn’t mind. I just chalked it up to her not wanting to wake me up to let her out. BB was always really respectful like that.

About two weeks ago BB quit eating. She would barely even touch the scrambled eggs, cheese and ice cream sandwiches that my parent’s attempted to feed her by hand. The doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with her, but said that it was probably something digestive. They gave her some antibiotics, but she still wouldn’t eat.

I have been so busy the last few weeks, that I hadn’t really been able to digest BB’s passing until tonight. I’m not sure what I believe about the human after life, but I’m 1 thousand-million percent sure that BB is in a happy place now. She’s eating popcorn and fish- crackers and she’s listening to the Little Mermaid with my late parrot Billy and my rat Bogart.

As much as “Pet Cemetary” scares the bejeezus out of me, I’m pretty sure that I would reserruct BB if I had the chance. Zombie BB might be a little bit evil, but I loved her that much.  

I miss you BB, wherever you are!

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!

When I was a little kid, I followed a strict nightly ritual.

My parent’s house used to belong to my great grandparents, so it was quite old, even when I was a child. My sister and I shared a pink tiled bathroom that didn’t have a shower so we always took baths. After a dinner of either cheese and crackers or chicken nuggets, I would spend an hour or so soaking in the tub, playing with My Little Pony’s or pretending that I was a mermaid named Christina.

After my bath, I was allowed to watch about an hour of television. I was never much into cartoons, so I usually chose to watch something on Nick At Night. I would sit through “My Three Sons” or “Leave it to Beaver” if I had to, but my favorites were the ones that had a magical quality to them like “Bewitched,” (the fact that there were TWO Darrens always confused me) “I Dream of Jeannie,” or my all time favorite, “Mork and Mindy.”

After pleading “tennn morrree minutesss” at least 3 times, I would finally sulk my way to my bedroom, where I would put on a long nightgown and a pair of socks, one of which I would inevitably lose at some point in the night. I then went around to each of the dolls and toys around my room, kissed them, told them I loved them, then made sure that their faces were turned away from my bed so that they wouldn’t be able to see that I had chosen a different toy to sleep that night. I always slept with a brown teddy bear that my Grandma had given me, along with one other doll, which was usually my Mork doll. What can I say? I guess I had a thing for funny weird guys, even at an early age.

At this point, one of my parents would either read or tell me a story, but my dad always had the honor of tucking me in. We would start with a prayer. If I remember correctly it went something like, “Dear Jesus, Thank you soooooooooooooo  much for everything. I love you soooooooo much. Please take care of my mommy, my daddy, my sister, my grandaddy, my grandmommy, my other grandma, my other grandpa, my cousin Andi, my cousin James… ect ect ect. Thank you sooooooo much for food, school, dance lessons, Mork and Mindy, Teddy Ruxpin, my daddy, my mommy, my sister, my grandaddy… ect ect ect.” At the time I was actually quite sincere with my praying, but I also have to admit that I may have been using my time with Jesus to evade sleep just a little bit longer.

In the telling, this part gets a little weird, even by my standards. Not creepy weird, but weird as in my nightly tuck-in ritual was more of a secret handshake between my father and I than your standard “hug and kiss” tuck in. There were a few times I can remember when my dad was out of town and my mom would attempt to fill-in but it was never the same.

Big hug,  little hug. Big kiss on the left cheek, Little kiss on the left cheek. Big kiss on the right cheek, little kiss on the right cheek. Leg hug. Butterfly kiss with each eye, and then lastly, Eskimo kiss.

He would then prop the door open with a large rock (my dad is a geologist so we have them lying around everywhere) and that’s when my real night would begin.

I would lie in bed, still as a corpse for at least ten minutes, or until I heard my parent’s shut their bedroom door. I had learned early on to keep a heavy stock of flashlights that I found in various drawers around the house hidden in my room. I would tip-toe across the room, grab one, then run-tip-toe back to my bed where I would either play pretend that I was camping in the wilderness, or I would read. Even before I really even knew how to read, I would make up stories to go with the pictures, partially because I knew that my parents (the cool kids) did in their bed.

After about 30 minutes or so, my dad would come in and check on me. Usually I was able to turn off the light and feign sleep quickly enough, but quite often he caught me in the middle of an intense Indian invasion and I would get a stern talking to, and be put back in bed.

Once I was caught or had grown tired of playing pretend, I turned off the light and genuinely tried to sleep, but even then it wasn’t easy for me. Life got about 3,000 times more tricky once the lights went off, because that’s when the monsters came out. Duh. I had to roll my self up in my comforter because I lived in constant fear that a monster would eat off my limbs if I left them out in the open. Whenever I went to the bathroom, I had to do jump as far out from my bed as I could get so that the monster under there wouldn’t grab me and pull me under. And then once I got to the toilet there was no time for wiping or flushing, because of course there was also the monster that lived in the toilet that would pull me in if I sat there for too long. Then I would retreat back to bed where I would eventually fall asleep, and dreamt mostly of cock roaches or the Jabberwalky.

As I grew older, I started losing bits and pieces of my nightly ritual. Five minute showers replaced hour long baths.  I started watching Beverly Hills 90210 instead of Nick at Night. My dad stopped tucking me in, and goodnight stories and shared prayers were replaced by a quick “goodnight.” All the toys and dolls were boxed up and stored in the attic.  Long, frilly, nightgowns were replaced with shorts and a t-shirt. Instead of staying up with hidden flashlights, I stayed up on hidden phones that I plugged in and talked on for hours on after my parent’s went to sleep. The monsters were still there, but in the form of worries about school, boys, and whether or not I would get a part in the community theater play.

In more recent years, the last remnants of my nightly ritual have all but disappeared. I’ve spent many nights playing board games, writing in journals and blogs, watching movie marathons,  and drinking until late in the night. I usually sleep in a t shirt and whatever dirty pants are in eye sight when I crawl into my bed. I don’t say goodnight to anyone, except occasionally my roommate or to the internet via twitter. I’ve spent most of my nights making sure that I’m too tired to have a thought, much less worries by the time I hit the hay.

The last few weeks I’ve been trying to get back into a ritual. I’ve gotten back into working out. I’ve started reading and taking baths again. I’ve refrained from drinking during the week. I’ve started painting and watching movies on a nightly basis. But still they’re there. Those damn monsters. My fears of life, money, decisions, and what the next day… the next year… the next decade will bring. I’m not sure how the normal people fight these thoughts, but I’ve made it my goal to conquer them once and for all.

So bear with me if I’m a little moody for the next few weeks, as I am likely to get much sleep until I figure out how. But for now, I’m going to get into bed and read the bedtime stories that my grandfather has written out for me. I’ll probably share a few of those too.

Goodnight world. And Let’s just hope tonight it’s a dream about my boyfriend John Cusack and not one about my current financial state.

And only slightly related, a scene from one of my most favoriteist movies of all time… The Science of Sleep…

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Just when I thought I had hit a massive wall, the internets once again made my world seem a million times better. Thanks so much for all of the encouragment…. as always, you never cease to surprise me. (in a totally awesome find 2 prizes in the bottom of the cereal box sort of way.)

I really try to stay positive, and as much as I know it feels good to vent, most of the time I try to stay away from the serious stuff here on the old blogster. It’s not  because I don’t want to share these things, or because I’m afraid of straying too away from the funny, but I mostly refrain from talking about the personal stuff because it forces me to deal with it… and I spend a great amount of my time avoiding things in my head. I hope one of these days I will get around to really getting some of this stuff off my chest, but for tonight I’m going to continue avoiding it…

Speaking of, I’ve gotten back into listening to podcasts, and I feel like I’m learning so much. My roomie LA just got me into this podcast called “Stuff you Should Know,” and boy I’m realizing there is so much stuff I didn’t know. Like did you know that there are real life zombies? Or that there are people who literally dedicate their lives in these modern times to figuring out who Jack the Ripper was?  Or that the guy who originally started McDonald’s actually has the last name Kroc? Or that the Amish allow their young people time to run free and live with the regular people and that most of them return home? I actually already knew that last one, but only because of that Harrison Ford movie “Witness.” It’s a really great movie, but I really wish the Harrison Ford character had been played by Jeff Bridges.

In fact, I think you could really take any of those middle of the road old-ish guy actor movies and replace the lead with Jeff Bridges, and you would have an exponentially better movie.

Take “Pretty Woman” for example. Now put Jeff Bridges in Richard Gere’s role. Not the Starman Jeff Bridges, but “the Dude” Jeff Bridges. I bet he would have had a lot more fun with prosty Julia Roberts. Or what about Twister, one of my favorite movies ever? Can you imagine if Bill Paxton was played by hippie Jeff Bridges? As the tornado swept in and took out that outdoor movie theater, he would have been all- ” Fuck no tornado, that theater really tied the whole fuckin town together. Fucccckkkk man.”  Or I dunno. Maybe my old-ish man crush on Jeff Bridges is really getting out of hand. I can’t stop listening to the “Crazy Heart” soundtrack, and I’ve watched “The Fisher King” like 4 times this month.

Don’t worry John Cusack, you’re still my number one. I’ve watched Serendipity pretty much every night for the last two weeks as I was falling asleep. I don’t care what anyone says, cheesy as it is… “Serendipity” makes my heart beat. AND it also influenced me to read my favorite book of all time “Love in the Time Of Cholera.”

Wow, I’m clearly random tonight. I guess that’s what skipping out on blogging for nearly two weeks will do to a girl. I have this whole notebook of things that I’ve been jotting down that I want to talk about, and I’m going to try my damndest to spread it out over time and actually put up some decent posts, but so far, not so good.

In other randomness, I tried something this weekend that may have changed my life. (And no I’m not talking about cutting off a fish head, though that DID HAPPEN!) More about that later.

THE EYES KEPT BLINKING EVEN WHIST DECAPITATED!!!

You see, I grew up being completely obsessed with chocolate milk. Not the kind that already comes mixed up for you, but chocolate milk of the Nestle Quick powder variety. Even as a toddler it was my favorite. Before I could even say “Mommy,” I could say “chocolate milk.” Not really, but I did say “dark Nah” which was my word for chocolate milk.I can’t explain to you the level of my love for chocolate milk, but I can tell you it used to be right up there with ketchup. In fact, I even drink it differently than I drink other drinks. It’s like I drink it from the back of my throat instead of out of the front of my mouth. Never mind, that all sounds kind of gross.

Regardless, Chocolate milk is a very important part of my “World O’ Happy,” other wise known as the things that are my most favorite in the whole wide world.

At least 2 times a day until I was 14 I would pull up a chair to the kitchen counter, get my favorite light blue plastic cup from the top shelf, and pour 4 heaping spoonfuls of chocolately goodness into my milk. It would never fail that at least one of these spoonfuls would end up on the counter, stuck in the cracks for my parents to wipe up later. At some point in my early teens when it became clear to them that I would never become a clean scooper, Nestle quick was banned from my house forever. One day, I went into the kitchen to stir up my favorite poison, only to find that my powder quick had been replaced by the syrup.

Nomaam.com. Syrup chocolate milk just isn’t near as yummy. It doesn’t provide you with a mustache that has a real-life grainy texture. You don’t get the same lumps at the bottom of the glass that you can lick out with your tongue.

I bought the powder Nestle Quick for the first time in my adult life not too long ago, and was really disappointed to find that it just wasn’t the same. The magic was gone. It could be partially because I can no longer drink real milk, so had to mix my quick with a soy substitute, which is great with cereal, but it just doesn’t seem to mix well with powder. It really sucks donkey ass.

So this weekend, as LA and I were loading up on liquids to cure our hangovers as we headed out for a long day of fishing at my family farm, LA got really excited when she came across a bottle of YooHoo.

She’s all like, “OH MY GOSH, I haven’t had Yoohoo in like a million years, this stuff is like crack.” I’m like, “EWWWW, that’s like fake chocolate milk without milk in it.”

“YOU”VE NEVER HAD IT, HAVE YOU!?!?”

“Nope… Why would someone drink fake chocolate milk? It’s like that Dave Chapelle skit where that kid wants “sugar water purple” instead of Sunny D.

So she finally talked me into trying it. I woman-ed up and tried Sugar-water brown… and it was delicious!!!! I’ve spent the better part of this evening googling recipes to find out how to make my own version, since I’m poor and also because I like to make my own versions of these things. Turns out there is a reason I like it so much, and it DOES have milk in it.. kind of.

All the recipes I could find look like this:

• 1/2 cup instant chocolate drink mix (Nestle Quik is best)
• 1 1/2 cups nonfat dry milk powder
• 3 cups water

Ahhh the magic of chocolate milk is back.

And so am I. Mostly.

I’ll be getting back to the dares and my regular posts very soon. I’m still getting used to my new job which is a thousand times more busy than my last job, but in a great way. My8 hour day feels like 3 hours. It’s going to take a little getting used to.

Alllright, allllright, allllright….

That was supposed to be in Matthew Mcconaughey-hey’s “Dazed and Confused” voice, just in case you didn’t catch that.

It’s Tuesday, and once again I’m posting for the first time this week. I don’t know what has gotten into me and Sunday nights, but I just haven’t been able to get any Monday posts done in a while. Oh wait, yes I do know what has happened. Sunday Fundays were invented by some friends of mine as a way to extend our weekend, and let me tell you-we really do have fun.

So I apologize for being a slacker on both blogging and commenting the last few days… but don’t blame me, blame my friends. And me too a little, I guess.

Before I get started on the oh so fabulous post-its, I have to touch on a couple of  things.

#1. Who in the hell designed Central Market and how were they able to make a grocery store into a freaking Bermuda Triangle? They put this fabulous little “healthy” grocery store right next to my gym that is determined to bust both my gut and my wallet.

I stopped in today just to get a loaf of rice bread, and an hour later I exited carrying 4 giant paper bags full of wine, a variety of smelly cheese, blood oranges (I have been dying to try one ever since I saw one at the beginning of Dexter,) pita bread, 2 types of hummus, home-made corn tortillas, luna bars, and of course a $10.oo pre-made salad. I literally cannot just walk into that place without spending $70.00.

GRRRRRRR

#2.  I saw “Day Breakers” this weekend and I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed it. I walked in not knowing much about it except that it was about vampires and that it had Ethan Hawke in it, and I left feeling completely satisfied. It was quite scary, had a few laughs and a whole shit-ton of gore.

If you haven’t seen the trailer, you may do so now. I grant you permission.

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Some may argue that William Defoe’s character “Elvis” may have stolen the movie, and I do have to say he did an excellent job.

But more importantly, Day Breakers also stars Ethan Hawke. As a vampire. This man was simply made to play a vampire. I don’t think he’s the most attractive man in the world (that would be my **boyfriend, John Cusack,) but this man is just chock-full of sex appeal. He’s the perfect mix of grunge, baby face, and sexiness… and the way he talks? I dunno why it gets to me so much, but I guess if I really wanted to get down to the source, it would be Reality Bites.

I could probably write a thesis on my obsession with Reality Bites and the effect that I’ve let it have on my life, but alas… I won’t go there. Not today at least. But really people. I can’t be the only one who is totally obsessed with the fictional character of Troy Dyer. The older I get, I have started to see the flaws in Troy, but I can’t help but still love him. I’m pretty sure his character uttered the greatest line ever recorded in film history…

“This is all we need… a couple of smokes , a cup of coffee, and a little bit of conversation . You and me and five bucks.”

Every time I hear him say this (which is NOT at least once every two weeks) and Lainie DOESN’T kiss him back, I want to smack her in the face. Hard.

But at least  she makes up for it later on. Sighhhhhhhhhhhh.

OK please excuse me while I change my panties. Just kidding. Kinda.

And now for some post it’s! For MANNNNY more awesome post its check out the host of this lovely blog carnival, Supah Mommy.

I cannot believe I haven’t written in almost a week. I have really missed it, though I have to admit it does feel good to unplug for a few days. I may continue to be a little scarce blogging and commenting this week, but I promise it will be business as usual after the New Year. I’m still recovering from the whirl wind that was Christmas, and I feel like certain areas of my life need a little extra special attention.

So here is a short one for ya! Check out Supahmommy’s site for more great post it’s!

OK, Before I get started I need some more help from a WordPress savy person.  I am obviously inept and cannot figure out anything on my own, so I would like some assistance with figuring out  how the heck  I put a “button” into my post. I have no idea how to make the post-it above link to Supah Mommy’s site. I copy the “button” but I have no idea where to post it. Thanks in advance!! Regardless check out Supah Mommy, who hosts this wonderful little post-it note Tuesdays that I have loved so long, but had no clue how to do. Here is my attempt!

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I spent all morning writing a post that just disappeared to… I have no fucking clue where. Forgive me if this is grammatically retarded and completely un-pc, but I don’t feel like trying as hard this time around.

I actually started about 7 different posts that were potentially for today, but for one reason or another just never finished them.

I’m blaming it on the fact that I was just mega-slammed with work, and I  got a last minute call from Channel 6  News to be interviewed about my unnatural ability to do a hand stand against the wall for 8 hours at a time.

Ha.

Truth is, for the second time this week, I broke my “not drinking for almost a week” pact.  I only had a few much-needed cocktails, but I still feel like a big fat sack of guilty ass. Though I have no idea what that would actually look like.

The good news is that I kept my other pact to myself. I vowed that I would be completely committed to this little blog for the entire month of October… Meaning that, come rain or shine and no matter how boring the shit I threw at you was, I made a commitment that I would post every single weekday. Just to see if I could.

And check out that calendar on the side-bar over there—————————————————————–>

OH YEAH, BLOG! I Kellllly-Ripppppppad your ass!!!

And while this may not seem like a big deal to a lot of you, I have something inside of me that makes me  just want quit something as soon as I hear the word “commit.”

But alas, maybe these times they are a changin’.

So now I will continue with my visual presentation to the shit-storm that is my life… If you missed it, you can check out more visuals from last Friday’s post here.

Remember how I was just telling you about how I hate spiders?

I killed that mutha.

Well a certain little bugger  was sent from Satan himself to terrorize me this morning. Sure he was just a little thing, but nevertheless, he did his job well. At first I thought I was imagining things, (possibly experiencing the first signs of food poisoning that I’m sure to get after eating raw chicken last night) but after seeing a shadow repeatedly float across my computer screen, I knew he was there. I swear though, he was fucking with me on purpose. He used his nearly invisible web to cascade down from the ceiling, probably trying to get close enough to have a taste of my blood, and then as soon as I would notice him and attempt to take a swap, he would completely disappear!. I finally got him though. I would take a picture and show you, but there’s not a lot left.

Not only do I murder helpless creatures, but I steal shit too.

Does this count as littering?

Ok, so I don’t so much steal, (I’m not that tough) but I do accidentally take things quite often. I blame it on my severe case of untreated ADD. I’ll be focused and right in the middle of doing something….

I should totally go get fake eyelashes for tonight. Oooh, there’s a Target across the street.

Which is what happened at the bank a few days ago when I ended up driving away with that little thingie that they send you your money in. I have no clue what to call it, but if you don’t know what I’m talking about look at the picture above, ya dumbass.

Oh I’m feeling a little frisky this morning. Must have been all that sugar. Does anyone know how to make pumpkin dip? I really want some for the party tomorrow. I have a feeling that it is something like pumpkin pie, but I don’t know how to make that either.

Damn, see… happened again.

So anyways, I drove away with the thingie. I would have just taken it bac k, but I’ve already had to do that once this month, and I didn’t want to go to the embarrassment trouble. Hence the reason that I bowling balled that container right out of my car when I realized I had it. Always get rid of the evidence…. And then take a picture and blog about it… is what I always say.

Really, this is a philosophy of mine. (not the blog part) Chunk it out of the car.

Once, my college roommate accused me of taking her Outcast CD.  I denied and denied, because I don’t listen to Outcast.

About a year later I was going through my cd’s and came across that Outcast CD. I have no idea how it got there, but I sure enough chunked that shiz out the window in a moment of panic. And now, I’m blogging about it. (If you’re reading this… I AM REALLY SORRY!!!)

Have I already told you that I want to take wine behind the schoolyard and get it pregnant?

I’m pretty sure that I have.

My roommates and I have started collecting the wine corks and empty  bottles to use to make artsy things. They have even gone to the trouble of ordering glass cutters and candles and decorative rocks and such. Don’t worry, I’ll post pictures of our projects for you. Just as soon as we feel we have saved enough material to really get started.

Don’t hold your breath.

Have you met my roommate Jake?

Just your average night at my house.

For the most part I get along with all my roommates. Jake and I just have a…. special kind of friendship. Ok, I won’t beat around the bush. He is the only person in the world that has the ability to make me want to stab myself repeatedly in the eye. And I’m pretty sure he is committed to making me do so. He has the ability to speak my name at a volume that makes animals do crazy things like jump of cliffs and bite the hands off of small children. Oh the torture! Forget waterboarding, just send Jake. You’ll get all the answers you want.

Another example of his Jakiness? Last night, for no apparent reason, Jake decided it would be funny to reach his hand down the back of his pants and chase me around the house threatening to wipe butt juice on me. Luckily, I possess the only weapon that works on Jake (and most gay guys)… a vajayjay. Oh yes. Two can play this game. The chase lasted for about fifteen minutes and ended with Jake locking himself in the bathroom. I win.

On a side note, this pretty much works with anything when dealing with Jake. As long as I have the ability to drop my pants, I win!

I know you think otherwise, but I’m not perfect.

Note to self: wear a bra.

I know I’ve mentioned that my Halloween costume this year consists of a pair of saggy boobs that i ordered off the internet. Well last night, my other roommate Denny, ( who usually doesn’t give me trouble) asked me why I was wearing them a few days early.

FML.

HAPPY HALLOWEINER!