30 November 2007


Run for your lives! The snow is coming!

Ah, yes. The first big snowfall of the year is just around the corner. It's all I've heard about last night and this morning. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but it's certainly in the news and a topic of conversation.

I wouldn't be all that worried about it if I didn't have to drive back from Mankato tomorrow morning. Some forecasts say it'll start snowing in the afternoon, but Barb Abney and everyone else on The Current keep saying it'll start in the morning. I need something more specific than that, dammit.

Though, I'm going to get my hair done tomorrow regardless. That's why I'll be in Mankato. I'm pretty happy with my hair as of late and I probably could wait a little longer (though, my highlights will be blonde soon ... DO NOT WANT). However, my eyebrows need a waxing like nobody's business. God, I can't fucking wait for that pain. I think I've got a tiny problem, y'all.

I hope there is enough time between now and the start of The Storm for me to stock up on wine (which I swear I already did this week). KayGee and I decimated my supply last night when I had people over to watch the football game. I think my investment in the NFL Network was a good one. Macho Man brought me a bottle of Maker's Mark, which is probably just about equal to the cost of two months of the Sports Entertainment Package. Sweet!

Though, I'm not sure about getting drunk every Thursday night through the rest of the year. Wait. What? That's probably just the hangover talking. Impromptu weeknight parties rule!

29 November 2007

Again with the pub crawls?

You know it sister. Over the weekend, The Future Mrs. Dirk and I planned our Holiday Pub Crawl in a Bloody Mary-fueled frenzy.

Okay, so the pub crawl is basically down Lyndale Avenue and we were finished in about 10 minutes. But we needed a reward for buckling down and focusing on the task at hand (after discussing our respective Thanksgivings, of course), hence the Bloody Marys and fries.

We even managed to come up with a theme: Attack of the Ugly Christmas Sweaters. We're asking everyone to go out and find the most awesomely hideous Christmas sweater they can to wear on the crawl. Now, I'm sure there are going to be people who are too cool to participate. Every group has those people, right? But whatever. We shall mock the fun haters mercilessly. Or talk shit about them behind their backs. You've been warned, fuckers.

I really hope people participate in that portion. And yeah, the crawl is on December 29, which is after Christmas. But really, Ugly Christmas Sweaters are probably even more awesome (and on clearance!) a few days after the holiday has passed. Perhaps adding some New Year's Eve paraphernalia will help? A Christmas sweater paired with 2008 glasses and a party hat would probably win the prize hands-down. Oh, did I mention there will be an as-yet undetermined prize for the ugliest sweater? Well, there has to be some incentive, right?

The Ugly Christmas Sweater party/pub crawl is not new. I mean, the New York Times has written about it. As did my very own Minnesota Daily. I actually got the idea from seeing a picture of Drew Bennett (who, as a receiver for the Tennessee Titans, helped take The Bob Saget Fan Club to a Super Bowl appearance in our very first year playing fantasy football. And I only picked him over the other available free agent wide receivers because I thought he was cute) in an Ugly Christmas Sweater at an Ugly Christmas Sweater party. Oh, Drew. I owe you so very much.

I'm pretty stoked for this bad boy. Response has been great for this one, too. Perhaps people know they're going to need to have a break from the necessary boozing that we all do to get through Family Time, to so some fun boozing with friends.

God, I hope someone finds a horribly tacky vest. You could wear it with a turtleneck! That would be the motherfucking shit right there, y'all. Drop me a line at the e-mail addy above if you want the details. You know you want to come.

28 November 2007

Oh noes! I've been tagged!

Muffy Willowbrook has tagged me. It seems I need to tell you five weird and/or random facts about me. The problem is, so much about me is weird and random, I have a hard time deciding what to say in situations like this. But I'll give it a shot.

1. I do not like strawberries. I love all other berries -- especially raspberries. I'm not sure what it is I don't like about strawberries. But I love that fake strawberry scent -- you know, the plasticky Strawberry Shortcake scent? God, I adore that. Since I never ate strawberries, it made perfect sense for my mom to always make me pick and clean the strawberries from our patch every summer on the farm. I know what Hell is going to be like when I get down there, I guess.

2. The feel of polar fleece totally creeps me out. As do cotton balls sometimes, but usually when they're torn apart. You know, when you have an ear infection and have to stuff cotton in your ears and an entire cotton ball is too big? It's like fingernails on a chalkboard to me, both the torn cotton and polar fleece. God, I hated touching that stuff when I worked at Dayton's/Marshall Fields. Damn you, Ralph Lauren for using it so fucking much!

3. If I'm not listening to music or otherwise occupied mentally, I will count my steps when I'm walking. If I'm climbing or descending steps, I do it regardless. Sometimes even when I am listening to music, I'll do it. It drives me nuts. It's a part of having a touch of OCD, I guess. Just like my obsession with my concert spreadsheet. Though, I've not updated that in a long time. Huh. Maybe I've broken that one. Yay me!

4. I cannot sleep if I'm wearing socks. Or pants. Or a long-sleeve top. Or a nightgown. Or on flannel sheets. I get tangled up something awful, y'all.

5. I can't stand silence. I need some sort of background noise at all times; usually it's music. I've got a radio at work; my iPod for the gym, bus and any other walking or traveling I might do. The first thing I do in the morning when I leave my bedroom is turn on the TV until I get my computer up and running so I can start my iTunes. I put on music and a fan when I go to sleep. The music stops after a while, but the fan runs all night.

I listen to music or have the TV on when I'm reading or studying. I could never study in the library when I was in school. If my roommate was sleeping, I'd move out to the dorm hall to study. The slightest noise grabs my attention when it's quiet, so I need something constant to cover up all the distracting noises. It makes me crazy to be in a car with someone, even if we're talking, if the radio isn't on. I hate being in a bar where there's no background music. Other people don't even notice that shit, but I can't help but notice it. And then I fixate until something is done about it -- if there's a jukebox, I'm the one remedying the situation.

So, there you go. There are apparently rules for this. They are:

1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
2. Share five facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3. Tag five people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
5. Don't break the chain!

I'm going to go ahead and break the rules. I've seen a lot of these floating about the blogosphere of late, so instead I will say if you want to be tagged, just say so in the comments. Then I shall tag you and you can tell us five crazy things about you. Deal? Sweet.

27 November 2007

Top 20 Albums of 2007.

I Voted in 89.3 The Current's Top 89 Albums of 2006

Sweet! It is time to pick my favorite albums of 2007. I think I had a much easier time of it this year than I did last year, for whatever reason. Looking back at that list, I feel like I was kind of reaching with a few of the selections (Jim Noir and Guillemots for sure ... Maybe CSS). But this year, it was incredibly easy to pick the 20 albums I've been playing the hell out of.

Okay, so I just got Rogue Wave and Beirut over the weekend. But I know I'll be listening to both albums plenty.

Maybe you don't agree with my choices. And you know what? It's absolutely fine if you don't agree. For example, I know lots of people hated Rilo Kiley's newest album. Whatever. I love it. These are my favorite albums. You can pick your own.

Reading through all the options provided by The Current has left me with a list of about 30 albums that came out this year that I must obtain. I really have to figure out a better way of supporting my music habit.

I don't really have much to say about any of my choices. I'm most surprised about Albert Hammond Jr.'s album. Honestly, I had no idea it would sound the way it does and I really had no idea I would love it. I should note that I have had The Fratellis and Augie March for what seems like years. This would probably be because I got them from friends when they were released in the UK (The Fratellis) or Australia (Augie March). I'll have to check and see when I loaded them into iTunes.

So, without further ado, it's the I was told there would be bacon Top 20 Albums of 2007 (in no particular order):

Check back later ... I will try to provide some samples at the very least.

PS: Who do I have to blow to get a Bat for Lashes CD up in this bitch? Okay, so I've only looked at Cheapo and Best Buy while I was there, but damn. I want to buy the CD. Why is everyone thwarting me?

26 November 2007

New boots.

Okay, so they're not all that new. Just a couple of weeks ago, I was lamenting my lack of tall, black boots. When I was cleaning out my closet over the weekend, I came across a pair of tall, black boots I'd kind of forgotten I had.

Why did I stop wearing them? I figured it was because they hurt my feet or something. God, I have such a hard time finding shoes that fit me properly and are relatively comfortable.

But what's this? They fit just fine. Great, in fact. The problem came back to me in an instant once I took a couple of steps, though. The left heel was loose. The heel would slide out a bit from under my foot whenever I took a step. It's annoying, to be sure. And what if it broke off while I was wearing them out and about? That would suck big, hairy donkey balls.

There's a shoe repair shop about a block from my office, so I took them over this morning, mentally crossing my fingers in hopes they could be fixed. I mean, it's not like they're a pair of good-quality boots or anything. I think I got them on a random trip through Sears. I probably didn't play more than $25 for them.

But the man behind the counter told me that they'd be fixed for me on Thursday. Yay! Not only will this save me a big chunk of money, but I won't have to look all over the goddamn metro area for a pair of boots that fit -- it's not an easy task when looking for a knee-high boot. The heel is a bit higher and thinner than I'd normally want, but they really seem to work.

I'm so totally stoked.

25 November 2007

Sunday, Schmunday.

Turns out Sundays on your own can be just as fun as those Sundays spent with The Boy You Currently Like or your dear, dear friends. All you need is a steady supply of football, college basketball and red wine.

23 November 2007


Oh, but not the kind that follows binging. I managed to not eat myself sick yesterday, which was amazing, given the fact that we had so much delicious food. I just realized I haven't eaten a proper meal yet today. When I feel hungry, I just stop by the fridge for a bite or two of sweet potatoes, regular potatoes, Brussels sprouts, corn soufflé, stuffing, green bean casserole or turkey. I've not managed to get back into the cheese (double crème brie and New Zealand sharp white cheddar) and crackers, cranberries or pumpkin swirl cheesecake (Thank you, Jebus). Good Lord almighty, there are so many leftovers.

The purging I did today was in my closet and dresser drawers. I kept running into clothes that were too big for me, and I never threw out the three pairs of jeans I retired (because God, that's so hard) when I dropped a size. Not to mention the fact that I couldn't close my dresser drawers nor could I shove anything else on the hanging rod in my closet.

I've been meaning to do this for ages. I wanted to do it a while ago, but it was still hot and I didn't want to be trying shit on for hours when I was sweating my ass off. So, I finally got around to it today and the final tally is: two bags each for Goodwill and the trash and about 15 t-shirts for my dad. In addition to having to get rid of some pretty new stuff, I did come across things I forgot I had. There are a couple of pairs of pants I can get a bit more wear out of before they're too big.

Now I have to play that dicey game of trying to buy clothes that I can wear for a bit because I'm pretty sure I'm going to be losing more weight. I don't want to spend a bunch of money on stuff and have to get rid of it in six months. But I also don't want to have to recycle the same few outfits over and over again.

Really though, I can't complain too much. I mean, there are far worse things than having to buy new clothes because half the stuff in my closet is too big for me.

As a treat for finally getting around to this, I ordered more undies from Freddie's. Where have you been all my life, Vanessa mesh boy shorts? I think I love you.

22 November 2007

Gobble gobble, y'all.

Turkey Day is here at last! I'm so stoked. At least I wasn't up at 4:00 this morning like I was yesterday. I think the Thanksgiving Eve boozing I did helped with that.

The sweet potatoes are in the oven. My apartment is clean and all the new candle holders are strewn about. I even took my air conditioner out before I cleaned. Whooo! I should probably take a shower now.

I hope y'all have a lovely day doing whatever it is you have planned, dear readers. It's only a matter of time before I'll be drunk and watching football with my friends. What a fucking awesome day. I don't want to get all sappy about stuff, but I am so thankful to have great people in my life. And I'm thankful that you all find some merit in the crap I spew in this blog day after day and

Happy Thanksgiving!

21 November 2007

The Happiest Hour of them all.

Happy Hour is the best time of any day. I've proclaimed my deep, abiding love of Happy Hour many times before. But tonight, I'm going to attend THE Happy Hour -- the one I feel I've been waiting for my whole life.

Tonight I'm going to the Triple Rock Social Club for Bacon Happy Hour. From 9-11 p.m., you get free bacon at the Triple Rock. FREE BACON. I even read something about a $4 Bacon Mary, which I assume is a baconed-up version of a Bloody Mary and I must have it.

Why free bacon would be such a big deal to me is a mystery. I have free bacon in my freezer right now. It's one of (perhaps the only) the perks of being the daughter of a hog farmer. I suppose it's the novelty -- sit down at the bar and have a basket of bacon plopped down in front of you. Plus, someone else is cooking it. I don't make bacon nearly often enough because I have to get it out of the freezer and all that. Also, when I do make it, I usually eat way too much.

We've been planning this for weeks now. It's hard to get everyone out on a school night, but Thanksgiving Eve being the drinkingest day of the year ... well, tonight was a perfect choice. Especially now that I found out I don't have to go to my sister's because the parental units are no longer coming to town. I have a lot of extra time tomorrow before my guests arrive.

As I started writing this entry, I thought maybe I should check Thrifty Hipster, you know, just to make sure Bacon Happy Hour is still listed. So, I checked. And there is no Bacon Happy Hour listed on the Triple Rock's Thrifty Hipster page. It was just updated on November 12. Oh no!

I've got a man on the case right now, trying to solve the mystery. I won't be terribly devastated if they've discontinued Bacon Happy Hour. Getting to the Triple Rock on the bus can be a bit of a pain. There are plenty of good Happy Hours in Uptown. I'm thinking Liquor Lyle's as a substitute.

I suppose it's good to check in advance so we don't waste a trip over to the West Bank when all the Happy Hour attendees live in or closer to Uptown. But it would have been kind of awesome to walk up in there and be told Bacon Happy Hour had been discontinued. Then I would have been able to shout, "But ... I was told there would be bacon!"

20 November 2007

Don't call it a comeback.

After four consecutive losing weeks, The Bob Saget Fan Club is now on a two-game win streak and back in sole possession of first place in whatever division of my fantasy league it is that I am in.

I was really getting worried there for a while, y'all. I lost Andre Johnson, my superstar wide receiver. Then I lost Ronnie Brown, my superstar running back. Then the quarterbacks. That bastard Bill Belichik absolutely refuses to let Laurence Maroney run the ball. Kurt Warner couldn't throw a pass to Larry Fitzgerald if his life depended on it. Oh man, it looked dark there for a while.

I tried blaming The Boy I Currently Like (he really needs a new name) for my losing ways, because I didn't suffer my first loss until he came over to watch football. I suffered my last loss the last time he was over. So, I guess it wasn't his fault.

This week, my one-two punch from the Houston Texans, quarterback Matt Schaub and the aforementioned Andre Johnson returned and my team racked up more than 100 points (thank you Arizona Cardinals defense, by they way). I feel like a corner has been turned and things are right with the world again.

It would figure that my NFL Pick 'Em skills would shit the bed when my fantasy team starts winning again. I should never have said anything. Big Blue Monkey was right when he said I was sounding cocky. When will I ever learn? Probably never. I think I'm now in third place for the coveted Jesus playing football statue.

Really, though, winning money in my fantasy league is more important than the statue. Why, I could purchase my very own statue if I win money in my fantasy league. I could, but I would probably blow the money on make up and/or booze.

But I won't get ahead of myself. I'm still in a precarious position. The Bob Saget Fan Club must keep fighting.

Soundtrack for this post? LL Cool J's "Mama Said Knock You Out," of course.

19 November 2007

An open letter to that girl at the gym.

Dear Girl on the treadmill in front of me,

Sweetie, when your sweat stains are orange, you need to put down the self-tanner and just walk away.


Short weeks rock my socks.

How bad can a week really be when Monday is actually your Wednesday? At this rate, it'll be the equivalent of Friday and we'll all be out celebrating Thanksgiving Eve, the drinkingest day of the year. Hoo-fucking-ray!

Thanksgiving has become my favorite holiday. It became very clear to me when I celebrated with KayGee and The Prison Librarian at my place last year. Holy shit, y'all -- it was the Best. Thanksgiving. Ever. No family stress. We were on our own schedule. We just cooked, ate, got drunk and watched football. And our food? De-fucking-licious. I ate leftovers for a week and then had to throw everything away.

This year will be more of the same, except I will have a bit of family drama. And there will be at least one other person joining us at my house.

The whole point of celebrating Thanksgiving with my friends was to avoid the family bullshit. I've managed to squeeze both friends and family in on a few occasions in the past few years. And I guess the 'rents are coming to my sister's place, so I'll have to head out to the 'burbs for a bit in the morning. Guess it's a good thing I don't care too much about the early football game.

Speaking of football -- I got the NFL Network yesterday, so I can watch the Thanksgiving night crapfest between the Colts and Falcons. Score!

Really, there probably won't be too much drama. It's just the hassle of trying to see my family before I get down to the serious business of Turkey Day with my friends.

Now, I must tackle the delicate task of time management for the rest of this week. I've done some of my shopping for Thursday. I'm making green bean casserole, oven-roasted Brussels sprouts and sweet potatoes. Oh, and the appetizers. And I have to bring bread to my sister's place. I also want to make pumpkin bread to give to my sister and parents and my sister sent a ton of bananas with me last time I saw her and I'd like to make some banana bread for her and my nephew.

I think I can get the remainder of my groceries tonight and tomorrow, save for the bread. That really seems like a Wednesday task. I wanted to get some new wine glasses and some candle holders (it may be a casual Thanksgiving with my friends, but I can still try to make my place look festive, right?), but I don't know when I'll be able to do that.

There is a downfall to a short week, I guess. You can't possibly cram everything in that you want to do, but dammit I will try. I even have this ambitious idea of working out on Thursday morning. Yeah, it's a pipe dream, but I have good intentions.

18 November 2007

I'm a giver.

I have a gift for you readers. It's not an awesome gift. But it is a gift all the same. It's your very own copy of the Cities 97 Sampler Volume 19.

I don't listen to Cities 97, but my siblings do. And my sister loves the Sampler. So, I signed up for something or other a few years ago to try to win a chance to buy a copy before it goes on sale. This is a really great idea, because they only run 30,000 copies or so and it sells out in a heartbeat. And as much as I love my sister, I'm so not fighting a crowd at Target at the asscrack of dawn to buy her a copy for her birthday.

Lo and behold, I did get an advance copy again this year and it arrived yesterday. I'm also okay with waiting for it, because there are about three songs on it that I actually like.

So, here you go. Don't feel bad about downloading it. They encourage sharing, what with the limited copies and all that (the money from the Sampler goes to charity). The songs are all live and in-studio. Except for the couple that were recorded at some other venue around town.

Download it now.

    1. Crazy – Shawn Colvin
    2. Two – Ryan Adams
    3. Your Body Is A Wonderland – John Mayer
    4. Boston – Augustana
    5. Overkill – Colin Hay
    6. The Little Things – Colbie Caillat
    7. First Time – Lifehouse
    8. Push – Sarah McLachlan
    9. Hey There Delilah – Plain White T’s
    10. Put Your Records On – Corinne Bailey Rae
    11. See The World – Gomez
    12. Heavenly Day – Patty Griffin
    13. Beautiful – G. Love
    14. Amnesia – MoZella
    15. 9 Crimes – Damien Rice
    16. The Story – Brandy Carlile
    17. Fiona – Romantica
    18. Nothing In My Way – Keane
    19. Anna Begins – Counting Crows

Enjoy, babies.

16 November 2007

I love you people.

Especially the ever-increasing number of people who find me by searching "hate lolcats." God, I hate them so much.

Some may think this makes me a bad person, or makes me dead inside. You know who you are. I must respectfully disagree. The deep, burning hatred I harbor for Lolcats proves I'm more alive than ever. Or something. Honestly, they bug the shit out of me. I hate cats, I hate poor grammar and spelling and I hate internet-speak. It's like the perfect storm of things to draw my ire and disdain.

So, to all my kindred souls out there -- CILYIMBF?

14 November 2007

Back to my life.

Oh my God, y'all. I'm so fucking excited to sleep in my own bed tonight I can barely stand it. Sleep number beds help you sleep better, my ass. They don't stop the dog from barking or the phone from ringing in the middle of the night. Nor do they make that heavy-ass down duvet any less sweltering. I had a dream I was pinned under something the first night I was staying at my aunt and uncle's. I think it was because I felt trapped under the duvet.

Of course I'll only be home for about two hours tonight. Hopefully I can get mostly unpacked before I head to yoga and I won't have to do much once I get home from the Band of Horses show tonight. I feel like I've not seen a show in ages, but really it's probably only been a month since Interpol. Christ, I hope there wasn't some big show in between there that I saw, about which I am currently spacing.

I have to try to find some time to clean my apartment before Friday. My cousin and her partner are coming to town and are going to stay with me Friday night. Can't have them thinking I live in some sort of sty. Granted, it's pretty neat in there as I had tidied up for The Boy's last visit and then have been away for several days. But I'm pretty sure I need to dust and chase the dust bunnies from the corners like nobody's business.

For whatever reason, I'm having a dilemma as to the sleeping situation. I've only ever had one overnight guest at a time in this place, so I've never had to worry about where to put two people, especially since they happen to be a couple. I have a queen-size air mattress. Is that good enough? Or should I feel obligated to offer them my bed? Why is this such a confusing issue? I need to make sure I have batteries for that stupid air pump. I stole that air mattress from my parents for a reason, I guess. I should probably use it. Okay, they let me take it because it kinda sucks and they bought a better one. But it's better than nothing.

Sweet, merciful crap this blog has been boring as shit this week. Sorry, y'all. I'm all out of sorts and whatnot with living out of a suitcase and being surrounded by batshit crazy dogs and teenage girls. Guess I'm more of a homebody than I thought. I could never have a job that required a lot of travel. I always need to counteract being away or being really busy with some serious alone time. Of course, I won't be having a weekend at home to myself. No, there's the Friday house guests and an all-day drinking affair on Saturday. But Sunday? Oh, Sunday it will be me on the couch watching football all by my lonesome. I can't fucking wait.

Hopefully that will be the recharge I need so I stop writing such lame bullshit.

13 November 2007

Things I learn from TV.

Advertisers seem to think that the people watching afternoon TV pee way too often and don't poop nearly often enough.

12 November 2007

I don't know exactly what I want out of life.

However, I'm pretty certain about what I don't want. I don't want to have kids. I don't want to live in the suburbs. I don't want to commute into the city for my job.

It's always more clear to me when I do things like stay with my cousin while my aunt and uncle are out of town or when I take my nephew to a game and then have to get him home, fed, showered and into bed within an hour. Don't get me wrong -- I think my cousins are great. I love to spend time with them; but it's always much more enjoyable when I'm not the one responsible for their well-being. And I adore my nephew, but it's the same thing -- I'd rather just hang out with him than having to be the meanie who won't let him stay up and play Guitar Hero a little longer.

The idea of me being responsible for anyone else is pretty ridiculous anyway. There are plenty of days where I feel like I can barely take care of myself.

No, I love my life the way it is -- living in the city, throwing my money away on rent, getting around as much as possible on the bus, only having to worry about getting myself out of the house in the morning. Does this make me selfish? Maybe. Do I care? Not so much.

It's not as if I'm some antisocial, child-hating freak. I have my urban tribe. They're as much my family as my relatives are. There's the boy I like. I could make room for him in my selfish, insular existence.

I really have no idea where I'm going with this. It's just always so depressing for me to be away from my life for several days. I want to sleep in my own bed, be around my own stuff. Just a few more days and everything will be back to normal. I'll be back to my own life. You may not think it's so great, but it works just fine for me.

09 November 2007

A Letter To Science.

My Dearest Science,

Jesus H. Christ. Would you just stop it with all the "drinking is so much worse for you as a woman" bullshit? One drink a day will increase my breast cancer risk. Oh, hoo-fucking-ray. And now? Now you're telling me that my bladder is going to fucking explode when I binge drink? Does water count in that, too? 'Cause I pee all goddamn day at work from drinking lots of water and tea.

Maybe the bladder thing won't affect me. I've got the Wee Irish Bladder and once I break the seal (which always happens entirely too early), I go about every 20 minutes until I've managed to drink enough to dehydrate myself.

So, let's see: my breast cancer risk is increased by drinking, as is my risk of an exploding bladder. I'm going to have heart problems because of my whore pills. Ooooh! I'm also at an increased risk of cervical cancer because of the whore pills. Oh, but the whore pills decrease the risk of ovarian and womb cancer, so they cancel each other out?

Also, Science, is it really called "womb cancer?" That doesn't sound right. I should think you'd have a more proper name, like maybe "uterine cancer?"

Are you conspiring with the Church to make all the fun activities bad for me? The cancer from the drinking or using of birth control so I can have dirty, consequence-free, premarital sex will kill me and send me to Hell for doing such filthy things? Man, you guys have such a fucking racket.

I've had enough of you for a while, Science. Something's going to kill me someday. Everything's bad for me. I might as well enjoy life while I can, right? You can just fuck the hell off for a while, okay? Don't call me, I'll call you and all that.


08 November 2007

Itching to spend money.

Because, you know, with the holidays and siblings' birthdays (Happy Birthday little sister!) coming up, it makes a ton of sense for me to spend a bunch of money on myself.

It's not all completely selfish. There are things I actually need. Like some new clothes. Most of what I wore last fall/winter/early spring that is appropriate for this time of year is too big for me. Yay and all that. My blush and powder have been reduced to rubble and dust. I need mascara because the last time I was in MAC to buy some, they gave me charcoal brown instead of coal black. I used it, but I was just biding my time until I went back to get what I really wanted.

I don't desperately need new bras. My Naughty Puppies with Pink Noses do not seem to have been affected by the weight loss, though I'm on the verge of going down a band size, I think. The bras could possibly wait. However, I'm really just not fond of a couple of them and what with having a boy around to see the bras, I want some new ones. Frederick's is having a sale -- I should get them while they're cheaper, right? And if I go with the red, I'll probably need new undies, too. I mean, I kind of have to be matching if the ensemble is going to be seen. Besides, I just feel prettier and more put-together when my bra and undies at least kind of match.

What about footwear? I don't have a pair of black boots. How did that even happen? How can I make it through winter without a pair of tall, black boots? My gym shoes are nearing the end of their lifespan, as well. But those might be able to be stretched out a bit longer, since I haven't been having that pain in my hip for a while now. Oh, and socks. Where the hell do all of my socks go?

It's a good thing I'll be getting a little extra money this weekend. I'm staying at my aunt and uncle's while they're gone somewhere to make sure my cousin and the daughter of a family friend don't burn the house down, or worse; have a party. It always feels a little weird taking money from family to do a favor, but if it makes them feel better, it's the least I could do. And since I probably won't have shit else to do on Saturday after I'm done at the gym, I suppose I'll just have to do some shopping.

07 November 2007

All clear on the northern front.

I had a letter in my mailbox from my clinic's radiology department when I got home yesterday. Good news! My boobies are normal. Well, mammogramically speaking, at the very least.

Now, it's not like I was all that concerned about them finding anything in the mammogram. After all, I'm young and my doctor just wanted a baseline. However, having received a cancer diagnosis 13 years ago, that worry in the back of my mind never goes away.

The letter said I'm due for another one next year. My doctor left me under the impression that I would get the second one in two years and then start them annually in five years. Then again, I'd been hearing different things since I was about 27 or 28 about when, exactly, I would need to start getting my tits squashed and x-rayed.

It's not like a mammogram is the worst experience in the world. But, if I can have a few years in between while I'm younger, I wouldn't complain.

Regardless, I'm terribly happy that The Girls and my lady bits are all healthy. I feel like I should celebrate. Perhaps a couple of new bras would be appropriate. Though, some fondling would be more fun.

06 November 2007

Jesus came to me this weekend.

Oh my God, y'all! This past weekend was a really great one, what with the pub crawl and hanging out with The Boy I Currently Like and all that. Oh, but that was not the end of the weekend awesomeness. Not by a long shot.

Remember back in April, when I beat the asses of everyone participating in the I Dislike Your Favorite Team NCAA tourney challenge? Okay, well, maybe you don't remember, but I certainly do. I have been waiting for that statue since mid-April. That's a long time, y'all. College basketball exhibition season has already started up again.

I have to wait no more. After months of intermittent teasing on my part, I Dislike Your Favorite Team's very own Big Blue Monkey (who, as it turns out, is as charming and devastatingly handsome as you would think) finally gave Our Lord to me. And he is everything I could ever have hoped he'd be.

I meant to get some pictures of Jesus and the kids meeting my Homer and Cletus action figures, but I can't for the life of me figure out where they are.

Jesus and those stupid kids probably won't have to wait too long for some company, though. It's only a matter of time before I have the football Jesus to balance the display. 'Cause I'm currently in the lead of the NFL pick 'em contest. Hahahahahaha. Suckers!

05 November 2007

All Aboard!

The LRT pub crawl was a success. We had a smaller group this time, which turned out to be a good thing, as it allowed for some much-needed flexibility with the schedule.

Turned out Whiskey Junction had a $7 cover (before 9:00, even), so we had to skip that. And we decided to hang out longer at Kieran's and skip Lyon's Pub. Since Sneaky Pete's also had a cover (no drunken stripper pole dancing, sadly), we took a vote on what would be our last bar and ended up at The Brass Rail. We even got our stripper pole fix there. I was filled with school spirit while watching three boys in Minnesota t-shirts dance on the stage.

I always get a kick out of being around the gays when I'm with Macho Man, because Lord almighty, do the gay men love him. And he pretty much likes any kind of attention, so everyone is happy.

The Future Mrs. Dirk and I had talked about having a Bloody Mary taste challenge for as long as we could stand to drink Bloody Marys. I started with one at Gluek's and it was pretty tasty. Our next stop was The Rail Station. We asked our waitress if their Bloody Marys were any good and she said yes -- they were almost famous for them. I think by famous she might have meant infamous because holy shit, it was disgusting. I didn't even make it halfway through mine, thus ending the Bloody Mary taste challenge. Plus, it turned out that our next stop, The Cardinal Bar, didn't have liquor. So it would have ended anyway.

The treats The Future Mrs. Dirk and I brought along proved to be a good idea. Her cookies were fan-fucking-tastic and I got rid of nearly all of my unused Halloween candy. I'm not sure why I didn't just leave it at The Brass Rail. I think we've learned a lot of good lessons with these two pub crawls and our holiday crawl next month can only be better than the rest. Mark your calendars for December 29!

I managed to keep myself under control both fiscally and alcoholically. This was pretty exciting. I was home by about 12:45, though I had to stay up for quite a while longer and wait for Macho Man to stop fighting with his girlfriend on the phone and go home. Seriously, you can't do that at your own place? I'd like to watch the last hour of Major League in peace, please.

My body rebelled against me and I was up at 7:00 yesterday with little more than a headache. Score! I guess it was good because it gave me a ton of time to wash my sheets, go to the gym and start making cookies before The Boy I Currently Like showed up. And yet, I didn't manage to get all that done before he arrived. I think that I had too much time and underestimated how long it would take me to do everything. It was just the cookies that weren't done in time, but you know, there were fresh-baked cookies, so I don't suppose that's the worst thing in the world.

We had a lovely time, despite the fact that the lasagna I'd taken out of the freezer two days earlier was still frozen when I decided to put it in the oven. Thank you, back-up plan pizza!

I am a little disappointed because I don't know when I'll see him again. He's got some relatively pressing personal shit that needs to be taken care of and must focus on that for a bit. It sucks, but I'm okay with it. 'Cause you know, I'm all supportive and shit.

03 November 2007


Man, I didn't think pub crawl day would ever get here. But here it is, at long last. I'm absolutely fucking giddy today. In addition to the pub crawl, The Boy I Currently Like and I rescheduled our play date from last week for tomorrow. This weekend is looking pretty freakin' sweet.

All this despite the fact that I didn't sleep for shit last night. It's amazing how many cars with ridiculously loud stereos drive past at 4:00 in the morning. That's not why I woke up, nor do I think it's the reason I didn't go back to sleep. But it's still worth noting? Maybe not.

Well, I really can't sit around here posting stupid shit in my blog all day. I've got some personal grooming to do and some plenty of next-to-last-minute preparations for tomorrow. Then it's off for hours of drinking. Whooo!

02 November 2007

I've had a change of heart.

The Timberwolves open the season tonight and I'm going to watch the game. I thought it over and you know, it isn't right for me to take out my anger on Craig Smith or Randy Foye. What has Mark Madsen ever done to me (besides that God-fucking-awful dancing he did after winning the championship with the Lakers a few years ago)? Al Jefferson and Corey Brewer come in with fresh slates. They've done nothing to make me sad or angry.

No, my anger lies with Kevin McHale and Glen Taylor. Rest assured, when they are shown during the broadcast (as you know they will be), I will boo lustily. I will also hurl insults at Antoine Walker with much gusto, because I hate that whiny bitch. I will make sure Michael Doleac knows I think he's unattractive and I'll call Sebastian Telfair a punk at every opportunity. Oh, and I will mock Theo Ratliff's age. Yes, I know. We were all shocked to find out he was not only still alive, but actually still in the league. Get off the floor, Grandpa!

Yes, I yell at the TV when I'm watching sports. Like you don't.

I really, really, really hate to admit this, but part of the reason I reconsidered was the new Timberwolves commercial, featuring Sweetwater Jones. I saw it for the first time Sunday, while on the phone with The Boy I Currently Like and it reminded me of the clever and funny Twins commercials over the years. Even the World's Worst Wing Woman thought the commercial was hilarious. And she is not a sports fan.

You know, it's not as if I haven't endured some shitty, shitty seasons as a Timberwolves fan. I've been watching them since the very beginning. Honestly, it'll be a lot easier to watch them since I have no expectations. It'll be like the old days, when the losses didn't hurt so much because you pretty much expected them. But the wins were a thousand times better because you didn't expect those to happen very often.

I'm still not ready to watch or read anything KG-related, though. I'll be keeping the TV on mute during games and I'll listen to music instead. I have to turn the channel when something about the Celtics comes on. I just can't watch. I'm still treating that situation like a painful break up -- just pretending like he doesn't exist. It's melodramatic and lame, I know, but it just hurts too much.

So, I'll take my still-fragile psyche back to the Timberwolves for the time being. I'm going to play things close to the vest for a while, though, and not give them my heart because I'm afraid they'll break it again.

01 November 2007

A rose by any other name?

Fall must be the time to talk about vaginas. Then again, when isn't it the time to talk about your lady business? Late last week, Muffy Willowbrook wrote, asking about euphemisms for the vajayjay. Then yesterday, I stumbled across this on Jezebel. The comments are absolutely worth your time, in my humble opinion. Unless, of course, the idea of women talking about their bajingos makes you uncomfortable.

I was deeply saddened to see the powers that be at Jezebel left "cooter" off the poll. It's a travesty! Cooter is my absolute favorite vaginal euphemism. It's hilarious and it was also the name of a character on Dukes of Hazzard. Cooter is a two-for-one, at the very least.

But I can't just use a single euphemism. Hell no. What fun would that be? Would you use "boobies" as your single euphemism for breasts? Of course you wouldn't. You're going to mix it up -- The Girls, rack, hooters, knockers, melons, fun bags, dirty pillows, headlights and whatnot.

And so, I like a little variety when I'm talking about the Downtown district. I use "lady bits" fairly often, as well as it's cousin, "lady parts." I especially employ these two when I'm trying to be coy. There's really nothing coy about either of them, though. I'm not sure how often I actually use "vadge" either on paper or verbally, but it seems to pop up in my head fairly often. Just a quick search of my archives showed I used "happy place" recently. I think that was more because I didn't want any cooter-overload, having used it in the previous day's entry. For whatever reason, I use "my little girl" when I talk about piercings in the delicate flower-area.

Obviously, if I'm speaking to my doctor I am grown-up enough to use proper terms. But they're so ... proper and clinical. When I was in high school, we had some sort of advanced home ec class (it wasn't really home ec, but the home ec teacher taught the class) that had a section on families and relationships or something. I honestly can't remember most of the details. But part of the class consisted of our teacher randomly interjecting the words "penis" and "vagina" into whatever she was saying. She was apparently trying to desensitize us so that we wouldn't giggle when someone said them. Unfortunately, her plan backfired and resulted in us (I often have to suppress the urge to do it to this day), randomly shouting "penis!" or "vagina!" in the halls for months.

There are plenty of gross euphemisms, too. Those are usually the territory of men. I honestly can't think of a occasion where I've heard a woman actually refer to her front butt as pink taco, axe wound, gash, roast beef curtains or bearded clam. Those are neither hilarious nor cute. They're just gross. I wonder if the kind of guy who would regularly use those kinds of terms actually get to spend much time in the fun zone.

If you haven't already chimed in somewhere else (shit, even if you already have), what's your favorite term for the sausage wallet? I must say, Muffy's use of "Hot Pocket" had me in tears. I think I might steal it.