I just heard one of the people I live with say "Huh. It's been a really long time since I sharted."
It's interesting round these parts.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
I just heard one of the people I live with say "Huh. It's been a really long time since I sharted."
Monday, March 23, 2009
My roommates and I hosted a house warming party on Saturday night.
It was a cold night and we started it by trying to get a fire going in the front yard fire pit. That didn't work out so well- I think we should stick to those ready to burn chemical-filled logs from the grocery store. No kindling needed and way less hassle all around. The man of the house finally gave up the good fight, doused the flames, and came inside, away from the cold and smoky outdoors.
Our friends started flowing in about 2 hours after the advertised start time of the party, just as expected. We live far away from everywhere, on the edge of the Pacific ocean. Most everyone got a little lost along the way, but eventually found our quiet little neighborhood.
One set of friends- a couple who we love and adore- brought us the coolest gift ever: a tissue-dispenser where the tissue comes out of the nose. Hold on- let me grab a photo.
Cool, huh? And it goes so well with a vase that I already have. The whole "face on porcelain" thing is kind of creepy, and that's what makes it funny. What a great present!
A gorgeous and wonderful blogger-turned-friend dropped by and introduced her daughter to us and to our dogs. I had to slap myself a few times for my language in front of the 9 year old, but my friend didn't get mad at all. She's so cool and was full of sparkles, as was her daughter.
Just after the blogger/friend arrived, an old friend showed up. Though I had invited him, I was still surprised to see him. We've been in contact for years, but haven't seen each other since 2003-ish.
He hadn't changed a bit. The boy is pushing 30, but still acts the same as he did when he was 23. A wild, crazy soul with military training. It's not a good mix at all. About an hour after he showed up, he was showing off by hopping from our neighbor's roof to our second-story deck, where friends were outside, enjoying the windy night and many cigarettes.
After awhile, he had many drinks in him and took off. He had brought a friend with him- well, not really a friend. He had just met this guy at a training session earlier in the day. The poor guy was dragged out here by my friend, who was his instructor, and he was still in his little camo outfit. I'm sure he was all kinds of uncomfortable already and now the guy who brought him out here was being outrageous.
He never told me his first name and I didn't feel like using the last name that was on his uniform patch, so I just called him Private Idaho. When I noticed that my friend had disappeared, I asked Private Idaho where he thinks my friend went. He shrugged- "Maybe out to the car?"
So off we went- and found him sleeping in the driver's seat. I was afraid that he would wake up and forget that he brought Private Idaho out with him and leave him there, so I banged on the window until he woke up. He unlocked the door and re-locked it before I could open it. He was laughing at me, trying to help him. What an a-hole. He finally got up and out of the car and allowed me to escort him back to my house.
As soon as we got inside, he said he had to go to the bathroom. I didn't trust him not to run off and start trouble or escape altogether, leaving Private Idaho to fend for himself, so I escorted him to the bathroom and stood in the hallway, talking to the Private.
After about 5 minutes, I started to worry. My friend hadn't come out of the bathroom. So I knocked on the door- no answer. I went in. He wasn't in the room. I checked the window- the screen was still on. I looked in the shower and in the cabinets. No dice. I was just about to pronounce him missing when he poked his head into the bathroom from the hallway I had just left and said "Hey." And quickly shut the door.
By the time I made it out the door and into the hallway, he was gone again. Private Idaho and I searched the house- no sign of him at all. I had made it upstairs to the second floor deck when I saw flashing red and blue lights surrounding the neighborhood bar a block away.
Oh shit- I knew it was him.
I grabbed my hair dresser/bad assedest friend and flew out the front door- toward the sirens. We had to get to him before he got into worse trouble than he was already in. We were halfway to the bar when I saw him heading our way- walking quickly on the edge of the street, trying to stay out of the lights.
He saw me and stopped- I practically barked at him to get his ass into my house. That's when the cop car at the bar shined his spotlight on down the street and right onto us. He pulled his car out onto the street and headed straight for us. We stopped and waited- the cop got out and told my friend to get on the ground.
My friend locked his hands behind his head and went to kneel on the ground. That's when I saw his hands were covered in blood. The cop was on the opposite side of him and couldn't have seen the blood yet- I stepped in and told the cop - "He's with me. He's my friend and he was just at my party down the street." The cop aksed me if he was really my friend and not out of place and I confirmed. He apologized and my friend got up, turned around, and we walked the opposite direction from the bar, toward my house.
I told him to keep his goddamned hands in front of him because it was pretty bright in the middle of the street, with the lights shining on us. I quietly exclaimed "you're covered in fucking blood. what the fuck." And he made some comment about "just trying to help." I called bullshit and told him I didn't care- that we just needed to get him inside and washed off before the cops came to question him.
This time when I escorted him into the bathroom, I stayed with him and watched while he washed the blood off the OUTSIDE of his hands. My boyfriend joined us in the bathroom and started asking questions.
My friend claimed that he was sitting outside the bar and saw a fight start. Some guy was getting beat up pretty bad and he went over to stop the fight. The attackers back off, he checked the guy's vitals, and when he was sure the guy would be okay, he walked away. Just so happens that he was slinking in the darkness on the way out just as sirens approached. My boyfriend called bullshit on him and my friend got serious kinds of defensive.
I didn't want him to do anything else stupid, so I hushed my boyfriend, put my friend in the living room to calm down, and the cops never showed up at my door. Thank goodness. After about a half hour of sitting there, I suggested that my friend go sleep it off- I put him in the guest room and closed the door. I was sure he was too drunk to want to get up again, so I went back to enjoying my party.
By 4:30am, everyone was starting to get tired (starting! at 4:30am, y'all!), so we made up 3 more beds, I tucked Private Idaho in, and called it a night.
We got up in the morning, went to breakfast for some greasy delicious hangover food, and visited JC Penney for a traditional costumed family photo session. These pictures are seriously hilarious. The theme was super hero/daisy/O face.
And then, we rested.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
I take notes on my mobile phone when I want to be sure to remember something.
I just saw a note that made me shake my head and giggle. It's something my friend Valerie said one night recently when she noticed my boyfriend was no longer on the dance floor with us. She was well into her 7th or so drink of the evening.
She said: Where did he go? Did he have to poop? Cuz pooping is the only reason not to dance.
So true, Val. And so profound.
Friday, March 06, 2009
I am actively preparing for an apocalypse.
I believe that aliens have already invaded our planet and are planning a takeover. I would like them to know that I will work with them and will make peace with them if it means my life is spared. They're obviously going to be way smarter than us and win, so I'll switch teams ASAP. Sorry, humans.
I am also a firm believer that zombies will, at some point, become a reality. I am always aware of the nearest exit and the nearest zombie-defense weapon. Zombies can totally suckit.
There could be a major disaster- like a tsunami. Since I live practically ON the ocean, my roomies and I are planning to put a small watercraft on the roof and stock it with essential survival supplies. That way if we get even 90 seconds of notice, we can run upstairs to the roof, hop in the boat, and float on with the tsunami wave. Done and done.
I was just looking into getting an extra cabinet for non-perishable food supplies, as there could be some kind of breakdown in systems and we'll have to live on what is already in our houses. Right now, we only have enough canned goods for a couple of weeks. Definitely need that cabinet and more supplies. We have enough water for us AND our dogs already, which is essential.
And when one of these horrible events takes place, I'll be the one calling you crazy for not planning ahead.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
I moved to Las Vegas with my boyfriend when I turned 21. He was a royal a-hole to incredible extremes. He was mean- like vindictive, purposeful kind of mean.
He lost his job in Vegas after a few months there because he fell asleep at the wheel driving a work truck. He was tested for drugs and he loved smoking the reefer. It's pretty difficult to get a good job in Vegas if you can't test clean for drugs.
So he got odd jobs- working at an arcade and at a gas station. He kept quitting these jobs because they were too hard or too easy or something. On one of his breaks between jobs, he decided to go on a trip back to our home town, but he didn't have any money of his own.
Instead, he completely cleared out our joint bank account and took off, leaving me with only the cash I had on hand- about 10 bucks.
Unfortunately, his timing was pretty terrible. I had enough food in the house and gas in the car to last until my next paycheck, but I started my period and didn't have any tampons or pads.
I decided to spend my last $10 on a pack of cigarettes and a cheap bottle of pink wine and use alternate materials for pads.
I cut up his favorite T-shirts and they actually worked great to do the job of sanitary napkins. All day wearing them, I was thinking about how funny it was- I was completely ruining his favorite things.
When he came home, he noticed the few strips of T-shirt that I didn't get to use and was furious. The look on his face when I told him what I had done was priceless. It was totally worth the grossness of it just for that moment.
Payback is such sweet bliss.