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!

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!

Per usual, here I am the night before the money is due, AND I STILL HAVE NO IDEA!!!!

I’m sure there are those of you who are going to tell me, “Sure Carissa, what do you have to lose? You’ll end up having a blast!” And you know what? I’m sure that when it is all said and done, that I WOULD have a blast, but we can’t discount the possibility that in order for that to happen I would have to be so balls- to- the- wall wasted that I wouldn’t remember it.

But I’m also fairly sure that there are some of you -who like me, are either on the fence about attending your own reunion, or decided not to go because you felt it wasn’t worth the effort or the money. I’m not even sure if this is how I feel. I don’t know how I feel anymore. I JUST CAN”T DECIDE! SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT TO DO!

Sorry for yelling. I’ve just been thinking long and hard (TWSS) about this one, and it’s a toughie. On the one hand, there are a lot of people that I would love to catch up with. I haven’t kept in good touch with most of my friends from high school and I think it would be real freaking awkward nice to see everyone again. Even more so, I feel like I’ve gotten to “know” a lot of the people who I wasn’t so close with by stalking their Facebook pages, and shizzles, it feels like I was missing out on some really awesome people back then. On top of all that, damn I look good and I want to show off! I kid… No but for real, while I’ve lost all this weight, most of the people I knew back then don’t even know I gained and lost a hundred pounds in the last 10 years, so I feel like that isn’t a good reason to go.

I guess my reservations are probably like a lot of peoples. I’ve heard that the 10 year reunion is kind of like a “show off” parade, where people talk about all of their accomplishments, show off pictures of their children, and talk about their career advancements. Don’t get me wrong great peoples of the nets, I’m proud of what I’ve done over the last ten years, and I have no shame at showing up single at an event like this. (although if John Cusack or Ketchup wanted to go with me, I’d be bout it bout it.)  I am aware that my goals are probably different from most people who I went to high school with, and that I’m not exactly on a “conventional” life path. I am perfectly fine with the fact that most people would probably raise their eyebrows at the amount of pride that I take in the fact that I have performed comedy, that I have been published, that some people actually read my blog, or that I am in fact, content being single. (At least 79% of the time.)

I feel that I have gone through so many changes since high school, and despite living in a world of complete (controlled) chaos, I like who I’ve become. I still have a long way to go, but for the most part (Yay) I’m a hell of a lot more comfortable with who I am today, and I’m a much over all “better” (despite my faults) person than I was back then.

Here’s my thing. I like who I am now. I like my life now. And while there are some things that I enjoyed about high school, I would much rather bring them to me, than take a roller coaster down memory lane back to that time of my life. I would like it better if I could magically just pick a few things that I liked about my high school life and apply them to my life now. Like the ability to wear overalls without people thinking I was a farmer. Or glitter. Or getting ready with a big group of girls before a dance, that was fun.

But you know what was WAYYY better than high school?????

Certainly not Junior High. That was even more awkward. I had like 30 pet mice,  wore nothing but vintage clothes, and really and truly believed that I could communicate with ghosts.  Which was cool, but back then I cared a lot about what people thought of me so I nixed out all of the awkward from my life as soon as I realized it wasn’t cool.

Let’s take it back a little further, shall we? Elementary School. That time of my life was made of awesome. I didn’t care what anyone thought of the fact that I wore Umbros and hand painted t-shirts everyday. Life was fun! I know it had it’s downsides, (like when I wasn’t invited to Brooke’s slumber party, or when some guy called me a one armed pirate because I had my arm in a body cast and an eyepatch on at the same time) but all in all, life was pretty care free. Again, I wouldn’t necessarily go back there- but I’ve been thinking about the 5 things from my personal Elementary experience that I would like to have in my adult life. So let’s do this.

TOP 5 THINGS FROM ELEMENTARY SCHOOL I WANT IN MY LIFE NOW!!!!!

My Tree-House: I had the best. tree-house. evah! While it wasn’t too big, it was perfectly adequate for my needs. (TWSS!!) But seriously, two of my favorite pastimes include making badass forts, and drinking on patios. Drinking in a treehouse would basically be the perfect cocktail of the two. Especially if I had cute boys next door that we could spy on. If that was the case, I would definitely remove the “NO BOYS ALOUD” (I was a poor speller) sign from the wall.

The School Cafeteria: I’ll admit it, while some of the best times happened there, so did some of the worst. I have a clear memory of walking through the cafeteria with my tray and crossing my fingers that someone at the “cool table” saved me a seat, but either way- fun times ensued. One of the worst times in my life was when my 4th grade teacher, Mrs. Honzel, force- fed me green beans and made me drink her tea with red lipstick on the cup, to wash it down. But then I have to remember “The Game.” “The Game,” was almost as fun as the bug game. Everyone at my table would take an item of food from their own lunch, and contribute it to the community tray, then we would mix it up good, and each take turns trying to stomach it. I think it landed a few of us in the principals office… but TOTALLY WORTH IT! Maybe if I go to the reunion I will try to organize a rendition of this particular game… only maybe with drinks. IN ADDITION. Not that I’m as interested in these things these days, but do you remember that a Star Crunch cookie was only five cents?? Or that a NuttyBar was only 10 cents? Or that they served delicious square pizza??? #IWonderWhyIWasFat

Nap Time: Dude, this really needs no explanation. I used to hate it when my teachers forced us to take naps. I would do anything to resist the nap. I’m pretty sure I LITERALLY held my eyeballs open just to prove a point. But if my boss came to me now and told me “Carissa, you must force yourself to shut up and go to sleep for 45 minutes,” I would probably clip her toenails with my teeth. Seriously. Make me take a nap! PLEASE!

Recess: Another given. Fun and beneficial. Can you imagine if we got recess for thirty minutes every day? And I’m not talking about a cigarette break in the back of the office, but a recess where everyone was forced to go outside and “play?” I would be a thousand times more productive. Not only would I have the chance to hone up on my four square skills (because, yes, I was am-haze-ing) but I could also take out some much needed aggression on my co-workers in a friendly game of dodge-ball, or “tie your head up in a teather ball string.”

Talent Shows: I’ve talked a lot about this today, both on Facebook and on Twitter, and I was being quite serious. I’m sick of all these shows that showcase talent. You can take your “American Idols” and “So You Think You Can Dance” and shove em’. (Although I really do love SYTYCD) The real fun is where there isn’t any talent. I wish I had a way to post some of my early talent show videos for you… dancing to Debbie Gibson and Kris Kross… Singing to Night Fever… Lip Synching to New Kids on the Block. Wobbly Arms and no rhythm… THATS where the entertainments at. I would so spend hours making up a dance to Britney Spears, even today.

So basically what I’m saying is that we should have a talent show. What would you do? There’s no rules here.

And also, SHOULD I GO TO THE REUNION!?!?!?

2-The number of times that I’ve washed my sheets since I moved in, or any of my clothes for that matter.  (We don’t have a washer or dryer)

2-The number of times I thought my roommate LA used her secret powers to dissapear since I’ve moved in. (We have really weird accoustics in this house so I can never tell where her voice is coming from. It’s really scary when you think you have known someone for 9 years and you’re just now discovering she has the ability to dissapear.)

9-The number of times that our ghost has scared the living daylights out of me since I’ve moved in.

148-The number of pimples that I have on my face due to stress and poor diet.

2-The number of bottles of face wash that I’ve owned in my lifetime.

8- The number of boxes I have yet to unpack. Most of them have books in them, and it’s only when they are all packed up and available that I actually want to read them.

45- The number of times that I’ve cheated on my diet since moving in.

45- The number of times that I’ve said “Tomorrow I’m starting my diet again, for real.” psssha

123,433,123- The approximate number of Jelly Bellies that I’ve consumed in the last 2 months.

3- The number of times that I thought that our new coffee maker was broken and was spilling water. Turns out that I was just ambien-preparing the coffee late at night, then woke up and made it again in the morning not realizing I had already prepared it the night before. For those of you who are unaware, when you put double the water in the coffee tank, the water spills out a little hole in the back, causing crazy people to believe that the coffee maker is broken.

9- The number of days since I’ve been on Match.com.

3-The number of times that I’ve signed on to Match. That shit takes up a lot of time, that frankly I don’t want to spend answering emails from strangers. I have gone out with one guy a few times which has been really fun… I just don’t understand how people have the mental energy and time to put into dating multiple people…

48-The number of times that I’ve gotten out of my current shower and had morbid thoughts that I was probably going to slip and crack my head open because I don’t have a bath mat.

135- The number of times in my life that I’ve wondered if Paul Rudd is actually a vampire. (That guy never ages, seriously)

4-The number of times in the last month that I’ve had weird dreams that somehow involved the Mac guy from the “I’m a Mac” commercials. I have no explanation for this one.

50- (At Least) The number of wine bottles that have been consumed since moving into this house.

3-The number of weeks since I have last gotten paid. I’m going on no monies at this point.

4- The number of times I’ve said that giving out massages with happy-endings might not actually be that bad of a moonlighting gig.

3- The number of big gigantic ketchup bottles that I have finished in 2 months.

2- The number of boys that I was not actually dating that have broken up with me in the last week. One was documented here, which I still feel a little guilty posting about since I’m a really really nice person. The other happened shortly after. It was actually the first comment posted on that particular post…

I have copied and pasted it below for you lazy bones who don’t want to go and see it for yourself:

___________

Jake 1 week ago

_______

For those of you who don’t remember, Jake is my gay best friend/ex-roomie. He’s the one who used to blow dry my hair and make the “whheeee whheeee” sound when I wanted to overeat. He used to break in my high heels and would  cook me dinner every night. I miss him. We weren’t so much peas and carrots, but we were definitely something like ketchup and baked potatoes.

I miss the way he used to sing “la la la la, la la la la la, la la la la la la la la .. ooooooooeeeeeeooooooooooooo,ooooooo ahhhhhhahhhhhhahhhhh (Lovin You, as performed in National Lampoons Vegas Vacation) No one, I mean nobody can hit that high note like he can.

On the same subject, if we break up, who will sing “I will Always Love You” at my wedding???? That is assuming someone will marry me of course.

I admit it has been hard to keep up a long distance (30 miles apart) relationship going, but I’ve had a lot going on… plus this thing goes both ways. I don’t see Jake coming to see me every weekend, or calling me every night. Isn’t the boy supposed to call the girl? Ok, Ok.. maybe the same rules don’t apply in a gaylationship. But still… I’m hurt.

Against All Odds

I thought it was a joke at first, but in the last week I have been getting numerous texts and Facebook posts that have lead me to believe that he is serious about breaking up. It upset me a lot, but it wasn’t until what went down on Facebook last night that I realized I needed to take action.

I have no idea how to do that thing where you screen shot facebook, but this is  how the status updates went down…

Jake ____ would like to officially announce to the world that I’m ignoring Carissa____. It’s been a long time coming…ooooooover “it”…whatever “it” is, or was!

Although this isn’t the first time that Jake and I have argued, it IS the first time that I have realized just how much of a serious problem us breaking up could mean.  Not only am I missing out on good times with my favorite goy on the planet. (Goy is my word for gay boy, duh.) But I am also potentially setting myself up for a scandal. It hit me like a thousand cactus pricks in my ass (no pun intended) that not only does Jake own the domain name for “CarissaJaded,” but he also has the sole ability to keep me from ever becoming president. Let’s be honest, I may not be the most obvious gal for the job, but I’d like to keep my options open.

So my response?

Well recently my aunt (whom I love dearly) has posted a few pictures on my Facebook page, which you may have already seen if you’re my facebook friend. If you’re not, feel free to add me now…

These old pics got me thinking thinking that maybe I should take you through a little hot tub time machine of my life… the good, the bad, and the completely awkward. So ummm let’s all get naked and go for a ride, shall we?

I don’t really understand the concept of baby time, so I have no idea how old I was here… but I’m going to go with baby. Maybe even newborn. I do know I was born with hair… so possibly?

Here I must have been a little bit older. Still have no concept of age, but it looks like maybe I was taking a first step or attempting it? No clue. Still, I don’t look so happy to be wearing a weird jumper thingie.

I guess I should count my blessings none of my baby-pics were taken with me in an eyepatch….

What appears to be shy and innocent, is in fact -never shy and innocent.

Ugh. Yeah.. I was a girlscout. Or “Brownie” or whatever we called them. Those cheeks are evident of the fact that I ate a lot of cookies…

Check out those Keds. And also that feather.

I wan’t homeless… this was just an “Annie” costume.

Things only got more awkward from this point… If you look closely, I needed to pluck my eyebrows at the ripe ole age of 7. Awesome.

(5th Grade) No wonder I didn’t have any friends… EEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK What was I wearing mom? What was with that hair?

Ok… this was probably 7th grade. With the exception of the overalls…  I think I had a bit of an improvement.

I don’t have any pics to share with you at this time of me in between the ages of Jr High and Sr Year… but just imagine an awkward girl wearing either Umbros, Long Pepe shorts, or vintage clothes that had no business appearing in the mid-nineties, and you should get the picture.

The classic graduation pic. I can’t believe my 10 yr reunion is this summer. What in the hell?

So yeah. Thanks for viewing my lame post. I have shied away from posting old pics mostly because they’re awkward and yucky and I hate the and I think you probably don’t care… But I figured they were at my disposal, so why not?

And on a very similar subject, some of my bestest buddies, my old roommates whom (who?) (at this hour I don’t care) I miss  dearly just started a website, Relive the 90′s.com but it doesn’t seem to be working at this moment. So what you need to do is follow them on their twitter here.. and when the site becomes available, submit your favorite pic/memory/toy/movie WHATEVER you love and find near and dear… It was up and running earlier today, so hopefully it will be by now!

Happy Wednesday people!

(Turn and face the strain)

Ah yes… David Bowie. I love that man.

I really do love David Bowie. I have so many memories as a  child dancing around to “Rebel Rebel.” I was a little scared of him when I realized that he was the same baddie from The Labrynth, but really, that “What Babe, the Babe with the Power” song really makes it hard to see him as a bad guy anyway. Then of course there is my all time favorite Bowie classic “Space Oddity.” It’s one of my top 10 favorite songs to do impression style, and I do have to say I’m quite good. (If you don’t have ears.) (That comment makes me feel a little guilty after yesterday’s video post.)

Anyway, the real reason I bring him up is because David Bowie is solely responsible for the fact that I cannot say the word “Change” without getting “Changes” stuck in my brain. I don’t mind really, except for it leads to sudden outbursts in the middle of serious conversation. I guess it could be worse. At least it’s a good song.

So change… There’s been a lot of it in my life lately. I moved. I have a new roommate, LA, who is actually an old roommate and it seems to working out fabulously so far. I’ve met a lot of cool new people lately, which is always refreshing. I’ve had to adapt to ants all over my house and in my cereal, which is not so awesome.

But most recently? I got offered a new job. And I took it!

I’m really excited about it. I’m really gonna miss the peeps I currently work with, and it’s not that I’m unhappy or anything… but change seems to be a good thing right now. Plus the new gig is about a mile from my new house (vs. thirty) and my crazy hyperchondriac ass is finally going to be able to rock some health insurance. This is a really really good thing when you consider that I do things like get  recreationally tasered or stair surf on a regular basis.

Then again there are some things that never change.

For instance.

*This weekend I saw Hot Tub Time Machine. Amazing. I’m still in love with my boyfriend John Cusack, even more than ever… Plus I got to see his ass for a split second which made my life pretty much complete. Also, if you’re on the fence about seeing this one, it really is hilarious. All things Cusack aside, even if he wasn’t in it- I would recommend it to you. I would probably even reccomend it to you if Greg Kinnear (who I think is the bee’s elbows, or whatever the opposite of bee’s knees is) played JC’s role.

*I may have told you this before, but I’ve been disappointed on every single birthday of my life. I always think that this will be the year that my mom tells me I am actually a witch and that I have powers. It hasn’t happened yet. But I have taught myself tarot, (half assedly) and I have tried to tune up my psychic abilties… but thus far I think I’m a failure. This past weekend I went to a Medieval Fair (in Sucklahoma) and even though it was cold and rainy, I got so excited when I saw all the fortune tellers. I didn’t actually get my fortune told, but it did remind me that my REAL goal in life is to have witch powers. So if there are 3 ladies out there who want to join my coven, I’m game. We can be those weirdos and go “Craft” on all of our enemies. Or at least give them a bad case of ringworm.

Ever since I’ve moved I have been a major-la-dee-slacker when it comes to working out. My drive home from work  is nearly 45 minutes, and by the time I get home I’m so tired, irritated with traffic, and hungry that all I want to do is eat a few chips and salsa, or what ever I can find in the pantry that’s not covered with ants (I miss my gay roommate’s cooking!!!!!) and veg out.  It seems to be a little bit easier to be lazy now that I’m living back with LA.

Back in college LA and I were constantly fighting for the chance to out-laze each other. We always did that thing where one of us (usually LA) would act like she was dying and needed help. I would sit in my room pretending that I couldn’t hear it for a good twenty minutes, until the yelling finally made me a little worried, so I would run to her room just to find out that she wanted me to turn off her light or hand her something that wasn’t in arms reach. Over the years, I ‘ve learned how to play this game as well. You might say that the grasshopper has become the master… or however that saying goes.

Tonight’s events were the perfect example. After 90 minutes of not being lazy in Bikram Yoga, we decided to celebrate our recent activity by watching “Brothers.” I actually prefer to say we were watching “Jake Gyllenhall,” because that is frankly all I cared about.  We were both already settled on the couches when we realized that the remote wasn’t working. Of couese neither of us had the energy and were too stubborn to get off our asses to push the play button on the dvd player. So we sat listening to the most depressing menu song in the world for a good 40 minutes. We didn’t even talk about it out loud. We did so via facebook status updates.

Eventually my need for a snack broke me and I said something to the likes of “FUCKSHITDAMNIT YOU LAZY FOOL I”LL MAKE SOME POPCORN.” LA said she would get up too since she had to pee. So after a dramatic count of three we both got our asses off the couch, made some popcorn and then got settled again, only to realize the damn “play” button STILL NEEDED TO BE PUSHED!

So yeah.

That’s how my night played out.

Next time I’ll win. It’ll be epic.

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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!!!

I’m a talker. Especially once I get a little booze flowing through my blood. My friend (and soon to be once-again roomie) LA is also a talker.

Talker + talker+being really good friends=ridiculous conversations that a third party often cannot comprehend.

So the other night I met up with my friends LA and AW, and AW got to witness once again how when we get started talking- hilarious, incomprehensible conversation can ensue.

I guess he was really lost on what we were discussing, but rather than interrupt, he decided to take notes on some of the random quotes and bits of conversation so that he could ask about them later.

Today I received an email with his “notes,” on our conversation. I’m not sure if this will be as amusing to you as it was to me, but I figured I’d share and try to justify these little notes of his.

- She uses big words like…insatiable.

That’s all LA. When I’m drinking, I’m lucky if I can even say insatiable. I’m not sure what this word was used to describe. Quite possibly it was my insatiable thirst for wine. Or my insatiable thirst for John Cusack. Or maybe it was LA’s insatiable thirst for using big words like insatiable. Either way, I’m curious… can other words besides “thirst” be used after the word insatiable? Because I’m pretty sure the only word I ever use after insatiable is “thirst.”

- LA and CM talk about a lot of different stuff.

Ummmm yes we do… great observation though…

- What is a doppelganger?

Somebody obviously hasn’t spent enough time on Facebook the last couple weeks!! OK, I’m not too sure either.  Apparently it means an actor/actress that you wish that you looked like. Or that you had a dream about. Or maybe someone that if you were gay, you would totally go for…. because I saw quite a few really pretty famous people as my friends profile pictures. I was going to put up Frida Kahlo as my doppelganger, because of the mustache and all…

- Who is Nora?

So speaking of “doppelgangers,” I know I’ve mentioned like 30 times the night LA and I  hung out with Joshua Radin‘s band and I made out with the drummer… Well, it turns out they had been on tour with a certain Grammy winner in the past whom they desperately wanted to name drop.

Drummer boy: Oh my gosh.. wow, you look just like my friend Nora.

Me: ummm ok?

Drummer boy: NO really!!! Hey “bassist!!” Doesn’t she look just like Nora.

Bassist boy: ummm… I guess so? A little?

Drummer boy: Yeah, you smile like her. **nudge nudge You know Nora right? My good friend Nora Jones??

Me: ummm right.. (but make out with me lovah boy)

- Why wouldn’t they up-play that shit and get with high up girls instead of downplay that shit and get with us?

I’m not sure which one of us genius’s muttered this intelligent comment, but I’d put a million thousand bucks on the fact that it was me. In fact I distinctly remember repeating it at least three times so AW could write it down.

It’s simple really, but I’ll put it into English for you

Why wouldn’t they use their semi-level of faux-fame to get into nice bars where they could meet girls who would buy their starving artist-asses drinks, rather than hang out with 2 girls who took them to the dive-iest (Adairs) bar in Dallas, and needed all of our drinks bought for us?

- Whoa whoa…so this is the night you bled on ____’s bed right???

I’m not sure why this particular story was brought up… maybe we were discussing something similar that happened to one of us more recently but I’m not sure if that even happened. It is actually a story that I have already shared with you…

-Carissa! I look at porn sites ALLLL the time! Are you kidding me?

I think this one is pretty self explanatory. I think AW just wanted to write this note to put in his spank bank for later.

-Let’s talk about love.

OK this one was all me. But before you write me off as some cheese-poof who likes to “talk about love” with her girlfriend’s on a Friday night over a bottle of wine- let me explain. I was trying to think of a story for this show I’m doing that has “love” theme. Since my experiences with “love” aren’t, for the most part, romantic… what we talked about next was all sorts of funny and also kind of sad.

-That’s what real rappers do, playa!!!

Have I told you yet of my dreams of being a world-renowned rap-star? Well, I have them. I know it will never happen, but I even have a rap-star alter ego named Kimbernisha. You’ll have to meet her one day. Anyway, I told you yesterday how I went to see Four Day Weekend’s comedy show. I loved it all… except for the part where they rapped. Don’t get me wrong, they did a great job improvising rap, but there moves were a little lacking. Ever since I saw Timbaland last week, I’ve been spending much of my down-time trying to imitate the rapper’s groove, which I demonstrated to my friends before I made this comment.

-Rap just got me off!

Yeah, I got really into that shiz!! I mean not literally, but I was really spent afterward.

___

In other news, I want give a shout out to one of my favorite blogs who is ending his project soon. If you haven’t checked out the 100 girls-100days project, I implore that you do so now. I’m really sad that it’s almost over. Start from the beginning and read your way through. That’s the way I do it. He may seem like kind of a dick at first, but overall, the dude seems really genuine and he’s extremely addicting.

Oh and tonight we have our Dallas happy hour!!! I’m so excited to meet some of my favorite bloggers in person!! WOOHOO!!

You know how when you’re down- people start talking your ear, and your ass, and your face off about how if you have a positive attitude good things will start happening?

It reminds me of this corporate job I used to have that was probably the most boring/yet fun/ at least I had health insurance – where they made us watch this “Fish training video”, that was supposed to teach us to choose your attitude. If you haven’t been forced to sit through “Fish Training” -it basically is about these dudes in Seattle who work with smelly, slimy fish all day and LOVE IT because they get to throw fish around to each other and entertain people even though they smell of 27 day old underwear.  I don’t remember the details, but I do remember that they said the phrase “choose your attitude” about fifty bajillion times. At the time, all it made me do was buy a big bag of yummy Swedish fish and try to hit my unsuspecting co-workers in the head with them. And that WAS fun. Kind of.

Sooooo…I spent the majority of last week moping around the house listening to the Grizzly Bear’s and Elliot Smith’s most depressing songs, and purposely slow-walking through the rain (ever notice John Cusack does that in pretty much every movie?) because sometimes it just feels good to wallow in depression. Or not good, but if you’re already there, you might as well make a movie in your head about it.

After I got tired of being wet and cold and mocking Kristen Stewart’s facial expressions-I finally was like, What in the name of Oprah are you doing? Dude. Life is good. Being all passive aggressive and fifteen-year old angsty about shiz that you probably don’t even really care about and won’t matter 2 weeks from now, is just… donkey shit. Life can be hard, families have problems, and work and boys can both suck… Get over it.

Except this face looks more like someone might be following her...

The truth is, when I get like this- more than anything, I find that I’m just bored with life and so I start creating drama in my brain to spend my time obsessing over. At least I can admit that I am an emotional cutter.

So, being the non-nonsensical person that I am, I totes decided that I’d bite the bullet and give this fish/choose your attitude/ positive thinking -a chance.

And by gee golly, paint me purple and sparkly and call my grandmother- I think it’s working.

Good things are happening people.

My shuffle function on the ipod is my friend again. Last week during my semi-mediocre depression it was just pumping out the sad tunes. At one point it even played Jann Arden’s “Hanging by a Thread.” I didn’t even know I had that song. I mean you could have just found out that you won the lottery, that you don’t have any cavities even though you haven’t been to the dentist in like 9 years, and that Zach Braff  has been the one calling from an unknown number and breathing into your ear the last few weeks, and you will still want to cry when you hear this song!!!!

Now my ipod is back to being all jokstery with me and playing Copa Cobana every time I get in my car, and that’s totally cool. I laugh and say “ohhh youuuuu…. you get me every time,” and I change the damn song.

And other good stuff has been happening too.

I got word from the awesomeness that is Candice that the magazine that she writes for wants to run my weight loss story, which made me nearly pee my pants from excitement. I won tickets to go see Timbaland, whom I normally wouldn’t have gone to see, but this whole “positive” thinking led me to believe that it might be fun even though I haven’t listened to “that” kind of music since I quit dancing. And you know what? It was a blast. We danced and met a ton of people that I have already added to my friends for life list. Or at the very least, to my facebook friends  for life list.  In addition, I’ve been really trying to balls up and go for new opportunities in things that I have been avoiding (like performin some funny,) and now it seems I even get some stage time next week. But more about that later…

I think that’s enough butterflies and sunshine for one post.

Except for one thing. I told you a couple days ago that my friends and I got a little noshed last week and made a few dance videos. Well, I finally got my hands on the first one we did.

The sound is a little off and you have to skip to about 1.40, but I promise it’s worth it. LA’s the first one to boogie- and I have been cracking up at the image of her first moves all week. I’m the third up to bat- and I swear- it’s like I literally tried to dance out of my pants, I was so excited.

Enjoy internets. I would only do this for you.

[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Pee Ess (what,what???? thanks “Julie”) (go read her she’s fantabulous with three scoops of ice cream a cherry on top) ( Julie -don’t leave yet, there’s one more down there for you)

Attention Dallas Peeps!!!

A few of us Dallas bloggers have decided to blatantly plagiarize off of the D.C.-ERS and have planned a night of kickassery and drinktivities next Wednesday!! This will be my first time to meet ANY bloggers in real life and I am so totally pumped I actually googled “Real life Time Travel Techniques,” with no avail. So even though I have to wait, I figure it gives a few of you DFW’ers time to jump on board!!! Since we are all kind of spread out (TWHW) (That’s what he wishes) we are meeting a bit later than happy hour, but I can guarantee you there will still be happy hours to be had.

When:  Wednesday, February 10, 2010 @ 7:30 pm

Where:  Sherlock’s @ Park and 75

Who’s Coming: Shine, Gofahne, Graygrrrl, Natalie, Mary, and Carissa (me)  (and hopefully you?)

Let us know if you’re interested!!! We would love to have you!!

email me at carissajade@gmail.com

And “Julie” if you want to make a four hour drive, you can totally couch it at my house or in between my gayboy roommates since I know you will love them so much!!

Writing out the title of this post just brought me back to those uber-dork days. Just thought I’d share that.

My dad’s family has a really amazing farm out near Crawford, TX. My dad recently started staying out there, and I have to tell ya’ll, despite the fact that there is no heat, there is a lot of poison ivy, and there is always the possibility of being eaten by wild hogs-I’m a little bit jealous.

The place is absolutely beautiful and some of my most favorite memories happened out there. There is a lot of land, your typical barn house,  and a little white house that is surrounded by a picket fence… and a creek called “Hog Creek” runs through the land and as a dam and everything. It’s perfect.

Da house

Hog Creek

My sweet grandparent's in front of my favorite tree in the world.

A Cow.

When I was young, my family would spend the weekends out there and my days would be spent catching trees fish, wading in the creek or a metal tub, or walking the grounds playing pretend or trying to get the horses to eat grass out of my hand. Even now my family goes out there quite often to shoot guns and fish.

If you had any doubt I was a true Texan, I hope I cleared that up.

My family decided long ago, that if there were ever any nuclear wars or zombie attacks, the farm would be our meeting place. Besides being near the likes of George W…. I do think that it is the ideal place for an emergency.

I always thought it would be kinda fun to have to live out there on nothing but wild animals and beer.

I think I could survive. I’m sure it would be a little tough, but I could handle it. I mean… I wouldn’t even have to shower very often, or maybe ever. How awesome would that be? I’ve even already learned some very important rules about living off the land. Like a few years ago, my friend LA decided we would paint our faces with the juice that comes out of the pretty fruits that grow on cacti. Not a good idea. Those little fruits have many invisible, yet painful tiny little stickers that will stay in your skin for weeks.

ANNNND I won’t try that again.

But moreover, I yesterday as I was perusing facebook all day for a few moments in my spare time at work- I remembered the main reason that I could never live out at the farm. You see, I saw my dad’s newest facebook profile picture….

Someone in my family tree

Yes. My father decided to change his profile pic. to be a picture of one of my ancestors. I really feel bad not knowing who he was exactly as I’m sure I’ve been told many a time, but regardless-we are related.

Harmless enough, right?

WRONG.

You see, when I was a kid I have always had a very vivid imagination. When I was a child I was scared of monsters under my bed, monsters in the toilet, monsters in the closet, zombie pets, moving dolls, spiders, aliens, the Jabberwalkie from Alice in Wonderland… and a wall in my farmhouse that has pictures of several of my ancestors hanging on it. This being one of them.

I know, I know. They’re just pictures of people whom I share my blood with, but ya’ll don’t understand the fear that their faces put it in my heart. Whenever I walked around the house , especially at night- I could feel their presence. Their eyes follow you around the room. And they all look so sinister. I guess I was afraid that they would crawl right out of those photos and beat me with a wooden paddle or something.

I got my dad to take pics of the others and send them to me. They aren’t the best quality, but you get the picture. hehehe, no pun intended.

OK so this one is a little handsome....

I bet she would wash my mouth out with soap.

This is my favorite. Clearly we are related.

Ok so they aren’t as scary here on this page. But I’m telling you people, in the house, at night… It’s a whole different story!!!!

I wonder what John Cusack’s ancestors look like. Since I am John Cusack’s girlfriend and all.

And don’t forget to ask me questions (in the comments, email, or tweet me bitches!!!) Anything on any topic… and I will answer! Or make something up. I will start answering them next week. Thanks for those who have already submitted some!

Have a humpalicious day!