Get Fucked

The above is the #1 most used phrase of the weekend. I don't think I've ever said it out loud, but I heard it mucho much from Friday to this morning.

We were in Vegas for my friend Jen's bachelorette party. "We" being my roommates and my Aussie friend. Jen had something like 10 ladies there from all of the different times in her life. Her sister hosted the weekend's events and we toasted and drank and toasted and drank...

I met Jen in high school. We were sophomores and she was already hanging out with all the college kids from the town just next to ours. We hit it off instantly and one of my first memories with her was being at a keg party and being driven home by one of her friends. Jen and I both ended up hanging our heads out the window to puke on the ride home. Gross.

Just a couple of years ago, Jen and I were on a pub crawl together. We were walking back to her place from the last bar we could reasonably stay awake at and she fell down in an alley. There was a garage full of guys watching football that opened to the alley and they all saw this happen. She was super worried about them all seeing her fall down, so she pulled me down on top of her when I went to help her up.

As I was screaming and giggling and trying to get up, she explained to me that she wanted them to think we were just rolling on the ground, making out. That she was totally down there on purpose. Oh... Jen.

So I guess we're used to being trashed wasted drunky tanked around each other. Which is why she handled me falling off a table at the dance club on Saturday night like it was no big deal. I mean, I didn't just fall one time at the club either. It was just once off a table. The next night, she wouldn't allow me to even say I fell. She insists she caught me every time. That I couldn't possibly have fallen with her there to catch me.

She's such a fun friend. I love the ones who are just going to be in my life forever and understand what I need to hear in order to feel okay about acting like a total jackass.

Bet it all!!!

My mom insists on everyone yelling "BET IT ALL!!!" while watching the TV show Jeopardy in her home and someone gets a daily double. I yelled it out at a Mexican restaurant the other day while my roommate and I were picking up dinner.

She sneered at me and said "We're not at your mother's house."

I don't care. It's something that is so ingrained in my psyche that it would literally hurt to fight it.

Tonight, my two roomies were on the couch, watching high quality reality TV programming and eating Carl's Junior takeout. I walked in to the living room to say something really witty and let them admire my beauty for a minute, but was interrupted by the male of the pair. He was mumbling something with a full mouth of burger. Just the way I like him. Wait...

Anyway, my female roomie grabs her dog (apparently, she understands burger mumble) and holds her down. The dog. Just making sure that was clear.

And I go- what's that about? She says- he doesn't like the dog to watch him eat.

.....

Weird, right?

.....

I mean... really? The dog totally hangs out with him all the time, but- HEY! No watching me chew!!!

So my female roomie says something about him being a freak and I stepped in to his defense. Something about "there are weird things that bother me too". But I was silently laughing at him. Really... the dog can't watch you eat?

We were talking outside a little later - mostly me laughing openly at him - and we pinpointed this eating behavior to his mom's strange eating habits. She'll eat like 3 things in the entire food chain. Sliced tomatoes, plain lettuce, and white wonder bread. Maybe hold the bread. So that's PROBABLY where his "issues" stem from.

Moms make us say and do crazy things.

What do you do that comes from your raisin'?

Epic WIN

I woke this morning at just before 10am, to my personal psychic calling- telling me we'd have to reschedule our appointment for the day. Of course, I immediately thought she had finally got some insight into my true soul and became afraid. So I slept another 30 minutes to celebrate our breakup.

Then, my roomies & I went to our fave breakfast place with our pups. They were closed due to a catering gig for the day. We sadly trekked out to another place near home with crappy food and ate there. I bitches about my life being ruined, but put a brave face on because we had big plans for the day.

It was international talk like a pirate day and we were soon off to a pirate festival nearby.

There was a man swallowing swords that I couldn't watch and a face painter with beautiful breasts and a tendency to lean into her art and piarate men to leer at. Rawr. Errr arrgh. Whatever. Hottie pirates!

Following the fair, my roomies& I scooted out to some secret hot springs down the road and soaked for a few hours while I drowned my sorrows in high quality vodka & red bull. Luckily, I was not at the wheel tonight.

Next, I sleep. Tomorrow, cleaning my room. It is a disaster. Unless I find something(someone) more exciting to do.

Indicators of sleeplesness

Today, I am considering the need for friends.

So much of the time, I feel like having friends is more of a hassle than its worth. Friends hold me accountable to things. Being there for them during happy and sad times. Showing up to events that they give a shit about.

I didn't invite anyone to my own freaking wedding, for serious. Why do I have to show up to yours?

A few of my friends are super people-lovers. They often tell me- oh, you have to meet so and so. You'll love them!
And all I can think is- probably not. I'm chatty and friendly with people I meet generally, but it's not like I want to meet them for drinks later just to chat. I love talking to people and laughing and hearing their stories, but fuck. Then they want me to schlep out to their kid's party on a weekend when I could be vegging out, reading Odd Thomas.

But then. Then I remember that most of my good friends are incredible people. They hug me and ply me with xanex and wine when I'm broken and crying my eyes out. They take me on adventures and hand me toddlers to swing around with on dance floors at their birthday parties. They drop everything and take trips into wine country with me to play with cheetahs. And sometimes they even applaud after incredible singing of karaoke in their living rooms.

So I'll keep being friends with people for now. These ones are worth it, at least.

I fucking need a nap.

Gogogogogogogo Go!

There are times in my life when all I want is everything I don't have.

Currently, I want to take off and start something new. Somewhere new.

I want to live in another country. To run a fantastically successful business and embrace a local culture that is wildly different from my own.

I'll graduate with my MBA in November, the job that I start tomorrow will complete at the end of the year, and my lease is up in February. I've got to move relatively quickly to set this in motion.

Go go go!

batshit crazy for two

I met a man while traveling last month.

He owns a hotel in the Costa Rica Caribbean and after one night at his hotel, he practically begged me to stay another night so that he could take me out and have me with him for a few more hours. He was the one who checked my Aussie friend and I into a great room with an ocean view when we arrived.

Immediately, I could tell that he liked me. It wasn't very well hidden in his eyes or his frequent offers to bring things up to my room personally- extra towels, a bottle of wine, my shopping bags which were light enough to be held with one hand. There is a hotel manager and a maid- surely they could have been as helpful? But no. He was over the top.

It's why, when I was checking out after only a one night stay, he asked me to sit with him and shared his coke light with me. And begged. Pleaded for me not to leave that night. Asked what was more important than spending time with him?

We stayed. He took me out and introduced me to every single local we came in contact with. Some were rude to him and he brushed it off as jealousy- he had money and they didn't. I wasn't buying it, so I cornered one of the guys who was only just civil to my host. I asked him what was up and he confirmed that my guy was regarded as an outsider by many of the locals even though they have all known each other since childhood.

Hmmm.

Then, on the dance floor later that night, I guess I got too friendly with another man. We weren't even dancing close, but my host whooshed me out of there and to the next bar with a few harsh words for the other man on the way out. Jealousy already? Really? We only just met. At the next place, he was much more attentive to me-meaning he was never more than 3 feet away and kept asking me to adjust my top. I was wearing a lowcut shirt that highlighted a couple of my greatest assets and he saw other men looking my direction quite a lot.

The next morning, my Aussie friend and I left town, in a rush to the big airport in the city. I didn't expect to hear from my host again, but after a couple days back home, he called. Wanted to know how soon I could manage to come back. Spoke with me about being able to collect me from the city if I could spare just a couple days for him. I was noncommital.

Two days ago, he called again. This time, speaking about how he can't wait for his children to fall in love with the beach and with music as he did as a child. As of yet, he only has a dog. He spoke of his future children. Then, he offered a bold proposal.

He asked if I would go to the Phillipines with him to meet his adoptive family there. He admires and respects his parents and thinks I would adore them and they would love to have me.

Ummmmm... After knowing me for two days? Really?

But who am I to turn the other cheek just because an idea seems crazy?

Rans

Again, my subject line won't change. Fine, subject line. You win.

In other news, random texts from recent hours:

I have a boomerang.

Exactly, very safe cept for rope burn.

I ran into ur twin in SF today. You are the evil one.

Bye bye baby, see u on the rebound!

Who are you and what did you do with my sister?

Are you back from that awful hippie event?

Have a stick-on bra, size c. C ya soon.

Too legit to quit

I was just reading a recent post here on the blob blog about how I'm not going to be doing any intentional dating. Well, I haven't gone out of my way, but I have an incredible tendency to fall in love every five minutes.

Can't change my nature, so I just roll with it, Baby.

Since that post many moons ago (3 weeks? 4??), I have had a couple/few mini-romances. Several close encounters of the humankind. But zero true "connections". Two of them, I said "I love you" to. But one was a friend kind of love. She's gorgeous and fun and supportive and a delightful kisser.

The other, I did love in the moment and would have run off with to spend the rest of my week with if he'd encouraged it enough. Yeah, week. Not life. It's just the kind of love I share with guys I met two days ago.

So all this yammering on about how I'm not going to date is really just bullshit. What I should have said is that I'm having commitment issues. But fleeting romance? Bring it on. I hope someone surprises the hell out of me and I'm blinded for more than five minutes at a time.

Survival of the freakiest

Yesterday, the delightfully hilarious Dirt Princess and I returned from a several day camping trip in the desert.

This wasn't just any camping trip- we went to the Burning Man festival in Black Rock City (Nevada). It's a place where artists and creators of all sorts go to congregate and be free to exress themselves anually. Boy, do they ever know how to let loose.

More on the details later when I'm a bit more rested and not using my nearly dead iPhone to type with...

But I will say this: My third morning there, I woke up, walked down the sandy lane to the porta potty, and saw a scene that proved you can do whatever you want in Black Rock City.

An older man was standing in front of the bathrooms, naked, holding up his bicycle, blowing his nose.

I just giggled and did my business and decided that diving into the cultural experience was my best bet for survival out there.