Being the self-deprecating person that I am, I initially thought that writing on the subject of “something that I love about myself” would be quite difficult, but the truth is- I kind of rock.

Although I could still write a novel about all the things I would like to change about myself, I realized that there are quite a few things about me that I find quite enjoyable.

Unfortunately, most of the qualities that I love most about myself are also the same qualities that others find highly annoying… but I think I’ve finally come to a point in my life where I’m OK with that.

I’m not going to list all of the things that make me really, really, ridiculously amazing, but I think I can try to sum them up into one all-encompassing quality.

Basically, I love that I am kind of a child.

Not in the Forest Gump “kind of like a child sort of way, though some may beg to differ… but I do think that sometimes I have a bit of a child like outlook on life.

I’m not going to deny that I’m a little “jaded.” I don’t like the way a lot of things in my life are going. I despise men in graffic tees. I actually don’t like most things that have to do with men in general right now.

Regardless, after all the shit I’ve gone through the last few years with my family and personal mountains, I sometimes surprise myself by being so excited by life. I even like going through the darker times because I know it’s going to get better. I like to use that time to improve all of the aspects of my life. I love finding new projects, starting new hobbies and meeting new people. I love that I feel things so deeply. I love that I still have the ability to care about a person enough to get hurt. I love that I’m optimistic. I love that I have an active imagination. I love that I can emphathize with other people’s pain. I know so many people who don’t really do that.

On the other hand, I love that I feel emotions on the other extreme as well. I love that I’m constantly excited about what’s next. I love that I really miss my family and friends when they’re away. I love that I cry at Hallmark commercials and Lifetime movies. I love that I’m a hopelesss romantic. I love that I’m passionate. I love that I have the abilty to be truly moved by a song or a piece of artwork. I love that I can make any situation fun. I love that my heart flutters when I’m on a walk and I see something beautiful. I love that I dream big. I love that I like to sing loud. I love to laugh. I love life.

I know this all sounds as cheesy as an old Saved by the Bell episode, but it’s true.

I fucking love being me.

First we have to rewind a few weeks back.  I was at my parent’s house and decided I needed a few new CDs to listen to on my way back to Dallas. I was a little short on cash, so I decided to obtain them the free-est way I knew how… by purchasing them on my mom’s Itunes account. After I picked out a few that I couldn’t live without (The XX, The New Pornographers, Manchester Weekend) I synced them to my own Ipod. I’m not sure if you are aware, but this is the riskiest thing a gal can do. No less than 3 times have I deleted my Itunes library whilst trying to take music from someone else’s computer, or vice versa.

Since I’ve started the new job I have spent the majority of my music face time on GrooveShark.com, so last night was the first time I’d really given the new play-list a good listen. There was a strong smell of water-hose water in the air, which always  puts me in an excellent  mood, so I was really enjoying myself. After I had  listened to Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zero’s “Home” about 3 times I finally let it move on to the next song in the mix.

When I synced up my pod I must have accidentally downloaded some of my mother’s music because it was a song I’d never heard before- but dude… it really made me want to dance-walk. I mean, I usually dance walk, but this song made me want to DANCE. I have rarely allowed myself to indulge in pop music since my “NSYNC” obsession ended, and I never listen to anything but NPR on the radio, but I swear… this girl had right about the same pitch as I do and within a few minutes I was singing “oooohhh baby, baby, baby” along with her at the top of my lungs.  I immediately started thinking of all the steps I would choreograph if I were still teaching dance, and started experimenting with a few of them right there on the street.

Without looking at my ipod, (I keep it on one of those arm thingies that make you “do the pretzel” just to look at it) I started the song over several times because there was this rap-part at the end that I decided I wanted to memorize.

When I finally looked down to find out who this new pop-chick was, I was freaking devastated.

It was – Justin. Fucking. Bieber.

If that’s not cool, I don’t know who is. And I obviously don’t…

I had seen his name on Twitter’s trending topics and once I looked into it, I recognized his face, but had somehow gone this long without hearing this song. The saddest part about it, is that I’m so late to the game. I KNOW people have been talking about him for months, and I simply ignored the whole fad. It’s kind of like I only recently found out what Crocs are, and last night I had to have my roommate tell me who Justin Cook AND Adam Lambert were… At least I think those were their names.

It kind of makes me feel sad and old all at the same time… It’s not like I have a crush on him or anything, I just kind of dug his sound.

HOLY SHIT!?! Is this the same thing that my mom did 15 years ago when she was obsessed with the Backstreet Boys and Nick Lache!? AM I THAT UNCOOL!???

I’m not sure what to do with this feeling I have. I mean, if I were 10 I’m sure I’d have his posters plastered all over my wall…

But I’m not 10 and I am admittingly kind of a music snob, and now I find out that I don’t hate this fifteen year old shim’s music?!?

Oh and I forgot the best part… When I was on the walk, after I decided to ignore the fact that Justin Bieber had given me the dancing fever and I decided to continue with my dance-walk, two hot boys who were running turned the corner and caught me in the act. Dancing and singing. To Justin Bieber. ( AND NO THEY WEREN”T 15)

I obviously rule.

It did make me feel a little better when I found out that I’m not the only person out of his target audience who has a case of Bieber Fever. I mean he did get nominated for a BET newcomer award.

You know what? I think I may just embrace it. I’ll probably lose my all my follower for this but oh well… I like that “Baby” song, and who knows… I may even like him more once I finish downloading the whole album. I might spend two hours making up dances in my room, and I may even post the videos of it on YouTube. But for now I’ll just do this.

AND YEAH. I  Did this too.

Well probably you don’t, but just in case you DO – I have compiled a list so that you can be just as awesome as I am!!

*** Do not try to achieve “hot-mess” status unless you have some good friends around to make sure you don’t take it too far. You will also need some people that you can count on to help put your life back together once it is all said and done. You also will want to surround yourself with patient friends, who know how to have a good laugh.

*Start out your Friday night by jinxing yourself. It’s pretty fail-proof if you utter the remark “I’m not drinking very much tonight,” that you will actually drink that much and probably more.

*Begin the night with double vodka soda’s.

*Supplement drinks with shots.

*Do a few performances at a karaoke bar, including the “always a crowd pleaser” “Total Eclipse of the Heart” – Old School version.

*** A karaoke performance is not complete if you don’t include a leg kick at some point.

*Talk to any person who is willing to talk to you, and tell your entire life story.

*Make your new bar friends look up what you proclaim to be the “funniest blog in the world,” (mine) (which I know is certainly not the case) and make them save it to their phone.

*Go back to the microphone and sing “What A Wonderful World,” in the voice of Louis Armstrong. Again.

*End said performance by saying something like “SORRY IF THAT SUCKED AND IF YOU THINK SO WELL THEN EFF YOU BITCHES.”

*Wake up in the morning 30 minutes before you need to be somewhere that is forty-five minutes away.

*Realize that you left your phone at the bar.

*Realize that your wallet is also missing.

*Scratch that.

*YOU HAVE LEFT YOUR ENTIRE PURSE AT A BAR.

*Drive back to bar and recover your life.

*Arrive at new landlord’s house  to sign your lease 45 minutes late so that he is no longer home.

Put your money in his mailbox, call and leave a message to let him know that you’ve done so.

*Don’t hang up phone after you leave message, and accidentally record yourself saying something to the likes of “this effing blows, we get up early to get this shit taken care of and he isn’t even effin here.”

*Meet up with a friend and drink two of her mother’s Mikes Hard Lemonades.

*Proceed to go to lunch and have 2 bloody marys.

*Take a 3 hour nap.

*Wake up and go to a bar for dinner and drinks at about 6, having not showered and wearing the same clothes you wore the night before.

*Text people that you definitely have no business texting, and that you shouldn’t even be talking to.

*Get your phone taken away by a friend, but it’s for the better.

*Leave the bar at around 10 and pass out on a friend’s couch while everyone else is watching a movie.

*Wake up at 8 with a dead phone,  having no clue where you are.

*Luckily, you will still have time to make the sausage biscuit breakfast at Whattaburger.

*Go to see Valentines Day, looking, feeling, and smelling like three day old dogshit.

*On a Sunday afternoon proclaim with pride that “I haven’t showered since Thursday night!!!”

*Get in your Hurricane car and drive back to hurricane room, where you will ponder on these events and then the ones that you don’t remember so much about.

*Blog about it all so that the whole world has the opportunity to read about your awesomeness.

*Do things to help you forget your night/s.

*Relive it all again when a friend posts pictures of you in your worst state possible.

That. Happened.

There you have it, somewhere around 30 easy steps to be a hurricane.

Happy Monday folksters!!

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!

Lilu is out of town for a while, but she has provided us with a series of very special TMI Thursday post secret posts. Make sure to check them out…. And for more TMI than you could ever imagine, check out her TMI archives!

I’m doing TMI a little different this week. I have a friend “Moops” who has asked several times for me to talk about him on my blog.

Well sir, I’ll do better than that. You have officially been email roasted. TMI Thursday style.

The following are emails that I copied straight from an email  conversation that happened yesterday afternoon.

I wrote the first email to a group of my friends when I realized I was having a difficult time coming up with a post for today. Moops spent the better part of the afternoon traveling all over the country for work, so didn’t get to check his email until the damage had been done.

Luckily, he’s a good sport. (I hope.)

Hey friends,

Moops has been wanting me to talk about him in my blog for a while… As I am completely brain dead today,I was thinking that you guys could help me out with thinking of a good story.

I know there must be many stories out there that I could tell that would be considered TMI about our friend in question.

The first one that first comes to mind…

Remember when we were calmly talking in the living room, and out of nowhere Moops reached down his pants, into his butt hole and then proceeded to stick his fingers in my mouth???! Just because ” he had an urge!!!”

I almost had to kill myself by ingesting bleach.

I got him back on the river trip though. heeeheehehee

You got anything better?

____________________________________________________________

RE: TMI

FROM: SCUBA

This happened,

Outside the Coventry Apts. Justin met our across the hall neighbors in his tighty whitees.  He then helped the girl carry groceries from her car up flight of stairs in his undees.  He then slipped on the very top concrete stair and all of the groceries went flying out of the sack.  He was bleeding and scrounging for groceries in front of our new girl neighbor in his undees.  Her boyfriend then shows up as this is going on.

________________________________________________________________________

RE:TMI

FROM: CARISSA JADE

Orrrr……….Maybe I should switch gears and tell about the time Scuba pooed his pants. I was such a nice friend and told him I would do his laundry for him. I almost died when I saw the skid lake underwear in the laundry basket.

_______________________________________________________________________

RE: TMI

FROM: LA

How about the time Moops puked on my couch then had to be taken to bed? Fast forward three hours and he comes storming down the stairs yelling at me me. Upon his return back up the stairs he proceeds to trip and stumble back down to the bottom. To top it off, he jumps up, glares and points his finger at me and says, “Yoooooooouuuuuuu”!

_______________________________________________________________________

RE: TMI

FROM: KT

I have a quick couple…

How about the time Moops decided to tell us about his love for couches. He loves them so much that he use to have sex with them, sad but true. Moops use to masturbate by inserting his junk between couch cushions and go to town!

Or how bout the time we went to we walked into an apt. party of people we didn’t even know and Moops drank too much and as usual stripped down to his tightee whitees and the people were so put off they asked us to leave. We do and Moops begins to laugh. Of course we ask “what are you laughing at?” He then pulls out the tube of toothpaste he was so proud to have stolen. His grand revenge for getting kicked out was stealing toothpaste…

Then there is the time that Moops really impressed me. I had just moved in below him and had spoken with him a few times. My roommates were out so I went to go say hi. Moops opens the door and is unquestionably shit faced. We are watching T.V. and I’m telling him a story when he stops me and says “hold on.” He then leans over and pukes the smelliest blach puke onto his carpet, nearly getting it on his boy dog “Jager.” When done he looks at me and says “ok, go on.” Without blinking an eye! Bless his heart!

And then of course there is the time that he asked my somewhat crazy ex-bff to trim his pubes. She then convinces him that he should be blind folded for the event. She did this so pictures could be taken without him knowing. Blindfolded, naked, and holding a beer, Moops let this crazy woman near his manhood with a pair of scissors in her hand! Don’t worry she didn’t hurt him, she just trimmed, but it did make for interesting pics….

__________________________________________________________________________

RE:TMI

FROM: CARISSA JADE

HAHAHA I forgot about some of these! Speaking of the puking (not that there aren’t already enough puking stories) I just remembered about the time that I woke up to find a pile of puke at the foot of my bed. That fool woke up in the middle of the night, stuck his head over the foot of the bed, and then straight up went back to sleep.

The funny thing about that night that he stole the toothpaste, is that I’m pretty sure that was the same night we may or may not have dipped someone’s toothbrush and razors into the toilet. Oops.

Oh. And my favorite… (which really needs it’s own post) The night he peed my bed, thank goodness I was on the futon that night (poor shae) That wasn’t really even the bad part. He took the down comforter home and promised to wash it. Three weeks later I go to his loft and that thing was was in his closet with all the other “clean” blankets… and sure nufff …it had never been washed.

And KT. When you get a chance, you must send me those pube cutting pics. I have no idea what happened to my copy. I know it was in my glove compartment for a while- though I have absolutely no idea as to why…

______________________________________________________________________

RE:TMI

FROM: MOOPS

Wow, all of this makes me sound like a really great guy!  I’ll get abnoxiously drunk, puke, piss your bed, might fuck your couch and I might ask you to get some of those hard to reach pubes.  I want to hang out with me!!

Scuba,  speaking of fucking things this one is for you…

I believe this story epitomizes TMI.  This came out of one of those story telling sessions where everyone was boozed up enough to share stories from their sexual past, the story didn’t necessarily have to involve another person, solo acts were admissible.  I’m on a plane and I don’t want the guy next to me to see what I’m writing so I have to make it quick.

So it begins, Scuba, the horny young thing that he was went about the house looking for objects he could have intercourse with, nothing too disturbing or out of the ordinary yet, right?  On his quest for pleasure a furry young thing catches his eye, why of course, what better sexual companion than your favorite over stuffed teddy bear (it might have been a panda).  But hmmm, how to make this lustful encounter logistically possible?  Cut a hole in it!  With near surgical precision (I’m sure) Scuba proceeds to cut a hole ample enough to receive his penis.  Then,  he fucked the teddy bear.

The funniest part is that his mom found the stuffing from the procedure; he told her that a kid down the street went into a rage and stabbed his bear.  So to this day if that neighbor kid is ever mentioned his mom says something to the effect of “ oh that so and so , he’s the one who stabbed your poor teddy.”

_______________________________________________________________________

RE: TMI

FROM: KT

It was a cow and he shared that story the same night you shared you love for couch cushions

_____________________________________________________________

RE: TMI

FROM: CARISSA JADE

hahaha ok, thanks guys. I’m gonna have to use all of this…

______________________________________________________________________________

Oh yes, in case you were wondering… my friends definitely put the ass in class. Have a wonderful day!

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!