That being said, I’m really not looking forward to it, especially now that I no longer have a pool and my air conditioning in my car is about to go kaputz. That, and I can already see the thousands of Facebook and Twitter updates from my teacher friends who get to spend a few months doing nothing but reading and sitting by a pool. But for now, I’m trying not to think about summer and instead I’m attempting to focus on the fact that the last few weeks have been abso-fricking gorgeous around these parts. It’s been so glorious that I kind of want to take Mother Nature out behind the school yard and get her pregnant in order to create lots and lots of days just like this, incestual as that may be.

The last few days I’ve really been trying to get the most of this nice weather, because I know it’s fleeting and that in a week or two I won’t be able to move without breaking out into a sweat. As a result I am likely to spend the next few months smelling like a kid after recess, which if your wondering is the mixture of grass and Taco bell. Speaking of, I’ve never understood why parents wait so long to introduce their children to deodorant, but if I somehow end up with a child I swear on sharp cheddar cheese that I will make my kid start wearing deodorant at the age of 5.

Oh yeah, the weather. It makes me really wish I had a hammock. Or some trees in my backyard. Or green grass. Or at least grass that wasn’t covered in stickers and dog poo. This weather always makes me want to be in my grandparent’s front yard. If I were there right now I’d be sitting in one of their butterfly chairs under the giant oak tree, sipping iced tea garnished with home-grown mint leaves out of a bright turquoise glass. If you’ve never drank iced tea out of a turquoise glass, I suggest you go out and buy one stat, because it makes it taste a thousand times better.

I actually acquired a few of my own just a couple of weeks ago. I was having an emotional break-down and went over to my grandparent’s house (across the street from my parents) to let them cheer me up. My grandparents are the best people in the world for cheering people up. If you don’t have your own, I’ll let you borrow mine for an hour or two… but since their the best g-funk parents in the whole wide world I’m kind of afraid you won’t want to give them back. But I trust you… so, maybe.

Any-g-funk-era, a weeks ago I had a lot of drama in my life, and all of their usual tricks weren’t working. My grandmother rubbed my back; told me stories about her own hard times;  fed me graham crackers with marshmallows, a few prunes and a cut up orange; let me pick out a song to play on the Juke Box (Sweet Georgia Brown,) and finally in a moment of exasperation she started trying to give me things. As much as I have always loved her gifts, I really hate when she starts trying to give me stuff, especially when I think her motive is to make me feel better… I guess it makes me feel guilty. I went ahead and accepted a couple books, (one was an 1890′s Guide to Good Girl Ettiquete!!) and then she pulled out a set of turquoise glasses that, as many times as I said no, she insisted that I keep.

They aren’t really so much a set, but a bunch of different ones that she has collected from antique stores and such over the years. Each one is a little bit different, but they are all beautiful!

And let me tell you, I’m glad I finally accepted. I have been drinking out of them every day, and liquids have never tasted better. Even the liquids that aren’t tea.

So please, get yourself a turquoise glass or two and you won’t be sorry!

Dearest Ketchup,

Is Ketchup OK? Or do you prefer Catsup? For now we’ll stick with Ketchup…

I’m not trying to come across like a creepy fan here, but I feel like it’s time I came clean with you about a few things.

I heart cuddling.

 I have been a huge, HUGE fan of yours for a  very very VERY long time, and I think it’s time you understood the extent of my love for you.

Just so you know, I’ve only written a few fan letters in my life. One was to Jonathon Taylor Thomas, one was to Keith Coogan (yes this Keith Coogan) (and it may have been like last year on Myspace) (Because I LOVE him and ”the dishes are done, man”) and one was to Seth Green. I was really fucked up watching Robot Chicken when I wrote the Seth Green one, so I’m not even sure it should count. I haven’t EVEN written John Cusack a fan note yet. Oh I’ve sent him a few ambien induced tweets, but still. What I’m trying to say is, Ketchup, is that you are one of the elite.

We could pick out yummy recipes together.

I’ll be honest with you, it started out as an innocent crush. Growing up, I would casually put you on fish sticks and chicken nuggets. Even now, when the idea of fish sticks pretty much makes me want to hurl, I would probably eat them if there was enough of you smothered on them. I would probably eat anything with enough of you smothered on it. Maybe not snails or poop though. I have to draw the line somewhere.

I could teach you how to dance...

I know part of the appeal may come from the fact that my grandparents never really approved. On Thanksgiving, my cousins and I would have to hide you under the dinner table because they thought it was innapropriate to eat you at the table. I still have to do the same whenever I go out to eat steak dinners, apparantly its even rude to ask for you. But I do every time.

NOM NOM NOM

I’m pretty poor, Ketchup, but  no matter how poor I get- I cannot go without you. I always buy the big bottle, though I’ll take you whatever way I can get you. I especially love the Whataburger **fancy ketchup. If it ever came down to it, I might be willing to hold up a Whataburger to get a hold of you.

ODE TO KETCHUP

I put you on chicken, I put you on beans.

I put you on eggs, I put you on greens.

 I put you on potatoes-fried, mashed and baked,

I put you on sandwiches and on  yummy crab cakes.

 I put you on carrots, I put you on rice-

I bet if I put you on cookies it would even taste nice.

Whether it’s Heinz 57,  Hunts or store-brand

I’ll always put you first, ahead of any man.

Or on my man? That might be fun too…

But even if I did, I’d only be thinking of you.

I could probably go on here forever, but there are some things I want to save for the bedroom kitchen.  I kid. Although, you have may heard that on a recent trip to Uncle Julio’s I told my tamale that I would have sex with it if it had ketchup on it, but I want to take this slow. That’s how much I like you.

That being said, I really hope you’ll get back to me so we can “catch up.”

hahaha

I’m sure you get that all the time. I really do hope you know I’m being genuine and  I’m not sort of tomatHOE.

Ok I’ll stop.

I love you,

CarissaJaded (your biggest fan)

P.S.

I know this might be a little weird for you, but I also love cheese and tabasco sauce so I was thinking  that maybe one of these days… nevermind.

**If you do not know about Whataburger fancy ketchup please send me your address and I will send you one. I’m serious. In fact I’ll do a giveaway. Yeah…. comment here and one of you will get a fancy ketchup in the mail.

**I’m serious about the ketchup, but there will be an ACTUAL giveaway later this week. It’s supercool and I’m really excited about it so stay tuned.

Anyway, back to you… I am hoping I will eventually catch up to all 900 or so unread posts on my reader… but I’m thinking it may take a while.

This weekend was kind of insane. On Saturday I got to catch up with a bunch of my college sorority friends at a baby shower.  (Love you Lydia and little Oliver who will be born sometime in the next 10 days) I’m usually terrified of situations that have anything to do with babies… mostly because babies scare the hell out of me. But besides the slight panic attack that I had in Babies R Us whilst trying to get someone to help me figure out what a Diaper depot was and where in this freak house of miniature things it might be found, I had a pretty rockin time.

I got all Martha Stewart on your asses and even made cream cheese tortilla rolls for the second event this month. I completely forgot to add salsa, which is apparently a major ingredient, but no one  said anything if they noticed.

I think the most shocking moment for everyone was probably when I held one of my friend’s babies. I did have to sit down first in the style of a 10 year old… but it wasn’t even such a terrifying experience. I actually really liked holding her. I had to admit  that babies are kind of cute and soft and I kind of started wanting to eat her up… or at least pet her obsessively. That came out a lot creepier than I meant it. What I’m trying to say is that- while I still don’t have baby fever in any way shape or form, maybe I shouldn’t be so scared of hanging out with my mommy friends a little more often.

We also drank a whole lot of champagne. I haven’t been to many baby showers, but I am quickly finding out that they even though the preggers guest of honor can’t drink, it’s perfectly appropriate for everyone else to. Afterward, a few of us hit the streets of our college town, and basically didn’t stop until around 10:30 on Sunday night. We gave Sunday Funday a whole new meaning, which basically led to a pretty miserable Monday. Except for one part…

Yeah I know what you’re thinking, because I was thinking it to.

With all these Oscar-worthy movies coming out in the last week or so, why would I go see Roland Emmerich prove to the world that his dick is smaller than Michael Bay’s?

For one, I had to get at least one more popcorn-blockbuster-type movie in before I start spending most of my free time in the Angelika, watching foreign and arthouse-ish type films through January.

Also, I actually like really really like end-of -the-the-world-shit-blowing-up-disaster type films. Who doesn’t? If you say you didn’t like Independence Day, I’m so calling bullshit. And not just because Bill Pullman pretty much made the sexiest-voiced president ever in a film. These type of movies do exactly what they set out to do, and that is to entertain and get you excited. Yeah yeah yeah, I admit that it was essentially one near death experience after another, but it definitely kept me on my toes. I spontaneously decided to forgo the gym and go see it by myself after work, but if someone would have been with me I probably would have spent the second half of the movie punching them in the arm.

I was planning on writing a full-on movie review, but I knew what that would turn into…

A post about nothing except for my love for John Cusack, and that can get old really fast. Just ask anyone that knows me in real life.

But seriously. I love the man… skewed political opinions and all. I don’t know what it is about this guy, but just seeing him on the screen makes me all giddy and butterflies in the stomach and all that nonsense that the thirteen year old me felt when opening up a Tiger Beat magazine that featured a pin up of Brad Renfro.

In complete honesty, I would probably love any movie that this man was in, (with the exception of The Contract, because that movie just sucked balls) and I completely blame John Cusack for the fact that I have spent the better part of my life single. How can a girl settle down with someone unless he shows up at your window with a boom-box and professes his love to through the musical stylings of Peter Gabriel? I’m still waiting!

And the thing that gets me the most about him is that he’s just so damn average. He’s good looking in a “guy that you see in your local grocery store” sort of way…  He usually plays these average down and out cynical characters, that are passionate about books and movies and music… but the dude always wins… and you really want him to.

2012 is no exception. I would much rather see the John Cusack continuously narrowly escape being blasted by fire balls and falling into the earth than Brad Pitt or George Clooney. You know they’ll escape. I would rather watch John Cusack do anything on the screen. Speaking of my favorite award night of the year, how has this man never been nominated?

See what I’ve done here? And I must stop. Mostly because I may need to change my panties.

Don’t be surprised if the next time you come here there is John Cusack wallpaper on my background. I will go there.

But until then… I’ve missed you and go see 2012!!! Now!

We need to have some words.

Before you think that this is all going to be bad, I did have a lot of fun. I especially enjoyed petting the llamas and watching those baby piglets drink from the mama pig. Who knew pig-nipples could be so big?

i heart llamas

Additionally, I really actually enjoyed the diving pirates show. So much that I think I may learn how to dive so that I can join them. Oh sure, it was a little cheezy and I’m a little out of their goal age demographic… but I have a love affair with pirate jokes and this made me very happy.

RRRRRR you serious?

But I do have a few bones to pick with you…  First, I left feeling a little like you ass-raped me a little bit, or at least took advantage of the fact that this was my first time.

I knew you weren’t cheap… but 10 tickets for a tiny beer? Over twenty dollars to ride the Ferris Wheel? And with so many yummy treats with each turn of my head, how do you expect me to resist eating a turkey leg, roasted corn, popcorn, and a tornado tator? You can expect me to forward you a few health bills, as I am positive my stomach will never be the same.

And also, you really should have a warning on a few of your rides that says “Not meant for persons over the age of 26,” because I feel a little bit like my head is going to fall off of my neck I meant it when I yelled “I’m never going to ride a ride again,” and also when I said “I’m too old, too old for this you mother fucker- stop the ride.” And guess what? Nobody stopped the freaking ride.

Alas, even though I am still a little mad at you- I was thankful for all the good people watching that you provided. . I think I saw several people who  (judging on appearances) spend their entire years salary on the fair.

Until next year,

Going to the gym 4 hours a day for the next 3 weeks.

_________________________________________________________________________

Guy who sold me the John Lennon Necklace at the fair,

I don’t care what my friends say- there is something very attractive about your long bushy beard. My friends all said that they think it would be smelly, but i tend to disagree. I  could also smell that patchouli oil even from the other side of the counter, and I love it!
I have spent my morning researching different images that I want to order on necklaces from you. If only I can find your business card.

My necklace was definitely one of the better parts of the day, as was your beard.

My new favorite necklace.

I wonder if I could squeeze in a trip to Denver. Maybe I’ll see you at your next show!

Sincerely,

Not a stalker

_________________________________________________________________________

To all other patrons of the state fair,

If you went into the indoor arts section and happened to purchase a flattened glass necklace from a man with a very long beard, would you kindly check and see if you picked up a business card? And then just forward me that email address.

Thanks so much,

Not desperate

_________________________________________________________________________

Dear zombie shirt boy,

I really did enjoy talking to you the other night but I know I acted a little weird the following day. I feel I should explain. I don’t really remember the last part of our conversation and I erased my drunk text messages because I don’t like to feel shame…  but in the event that you got a message from me that said “I am already in love you” 3 hours after meeting me- please either assume that

A. Some stranger broke into my house wearing a banana suit, ate a block of cheese, held me up with a hack saw and then stole my phone and must have texted you himself.

or

B. I was just joking! I’m funny like that!

I’m also sorry if I made my friends called you… I’m sure that was a little awkward.

I’m not usually crazy and I’ll leave it at that because in my experience the people who have to say over and over again that they are not crazy, are usually the craziest.. and I am definitely not crazy.

I understand if you never want to talk to me again but it was very nice meeting you and I think your super cool.

I love you,

I like your facebook picture,

Sleepless in Dallas,

I‘m available every night this week,

Can we at least be friends?,

Not a desperate crazy stalker

___________________________________________________________________________

My dearest kidneys,

I’m sorry. Very sorry.

Love,

NEVER DRINKING AGAIN

___________________________________________________________________________

To several of my Facebook friends who I saw at homecoming,

Sure I know it has been a while, and I probably look a little different than you remember me… But I remember having several conversations with you back in college. I even knew some of you well enough that I considered you a real life friend.

Regardless, I was super offended at how many of you I waved at, with no response. I mean, even if you don’t recognize me- DO YOU NOT WAVE BACK AT STRANGERS? How rude can you be!? I try to smile at all the strangers that pass by, and even more at the ones who are at my college homecoming because there is a chance I know them.

Let me refresh your memory. I’m in the one in the middle. You saw me this weekend. You looked me in the eye, you asshole.

Maybe I don’t have much of a life, but even though we haven’t seen each other for a while, I try to keep up with your life. I look at your pictures from Vegas and your new baby just took his first steps, congrats!! I know every time you have been drinking because facebook friend, you tell me and I listen.

Well I, for one, am not going to stand for this abuse. If you don’t even look at my pictures enough to recognize me- then why are we “friends?”

So just a heads up, don’t be surprised if you get deleted from my friend list. Not that you’ll even notice, but still.

Your not aging as gracefully as I would have thought,

Needs everyone to love me.

Make sure you check back to Lilu’s Archives… You will laugh your ass off!

_________________________________________________________________________

*Some people have more shame than I do, so in an effort to preserve a friendship- I thought my friend might enjoy the retelling of this story in the form of poetry… Because really, this was a very poetic moment in both of our lives, I’m sure. I have already gotten in trouble for telling this story before, but it’s just too frickin funny not to share!

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Legend of the Log

Here doth lie a legend
that has spread far and wide
About a very dear friend of mine
and what came out from their behind.

It was long ago in college
And I will not share my friend’s name.
I’m hoping the fact I’m attempting to rhyme-
Will lighten their level of shame.

I had just moved in to a new place
With 3 girls I did not know-
My friend had eaten a lot of cheese
And finally had to… “go” go.

After a few minutes in private
I hear my friend’s loud cry
For what was laid was way too big,
And the water was rising high.

I usually wouldn’t have cared so much
But I’d only been there one night.
If my new roommates thought I broke the commode,
We’d probably never be tight!

So I went in the room to help my friend
to devise a little plan-
I looked to see what they did lay
and wandered how in the hell did THAT fit in the can.

I didn’t own a plunger,
and I couldn’t find a net…
Neither of us would touch it-
We couldn’t live with that regret

You may not already know this-
buy I’m actually quite smart
I knew the only solution
What to slice that turd apart.

I went into the kitchen
and found a plastic knife,
I also grabbed a plastic fork
Just to be polite.

I know not why the job was mine
but I did what I had to do
Using that fine cutlery
I began to poke that poo.

I literally “cut the crap” my friend,
I sliced up that big load
I did all this to save the day
and flush down the commode.

Ok people! I apologize for my lack of poetic ability! Have a great day!

Most offices have a lot of talk around a water cooler. My office just spends a lot of time talking about a water cooler. More specifically, we spend a lot of time whining about not having one. My office (not my, the) is about the size of my garage, so it’s not as if we need a meeting area to chat. I can actually hear my co-workers food digesting as we speak. And I’m not even going to go into the scent of his tuna-eating habits.

Alas, I can get over that… I’ve learned by now to hold my breath for extended periods of time. It’s the thirst that comes after drinking an entire bottle of red wine on a Thursday evening that I can’t handle. I cannot fathom why it has been deemed a better idea to buy 2 cases of bottled water 3 times a week, rather than purchase a cooler. It would probably be more practical to install a sink at the rate we go through it. I think everyone knows they are wasting a lot of money, but no one is willing to do the research it would take to get it done.

Not that it matters anymore. On Monday a vending machine was installed in the building. To some, this may seem like good news. Hells no. This is the solution that they have been waiting for. Not only am I going to have to resist the urge to snack on a snickers bar every afternoon, but I now have the luxury of paying a $1.25 every time I want a bottle of water.  I’ve lost the only benefit my job provided….free water. I wonder if I continually fill my mouth up with spit I can trick my body to think it is digesting new water.

Now if only they would get a little more creative with their vending machines I may not mind so much. Like maybe a machine stocked full of beef jerky, ranch sunflower seeds, and cheese. Or maybe something even odder, like these…. Although sushi from a vending machine seems like an even a worse idea than a gas station sandwich.