Hump Day - Get Over It

I'm completely addicted to massages. If I could get them on a regular basis I would. One of the things I loved about The Man when we got together was that he was constantly offering to give me massages. It was wonderful though now I've made him acknowledge that it was blatant false advertising since that didn't last very long past the initial trying to get in my pants phase. Anyways, I found an awesome deal on Groupon for a new place that opened up by my house and since I'm a sucker for their deals I bought one. I went into the place toting my little Groupon deal and psyched beyond belief. Big mistake!! Apparently my masseur was over giving all these damn massages by that point because it was the absolute work massage of my life. A four-year-old wacking me with a rolling pin and a wooden spoon would have felt better. The worst part - that ass actually gave me bruises on my back! I have olive skin and I don't bruise easy so here's a tip to that masseur - find a new line of work cause you suck! Here's to getting over it.

Your Touch - The Black Keys

Sitting with My Head in a Paper Bag

So I’m sitting here thinking about what is coming up on Friday and I’m panicking. Literally, I’m getting nervous, short of breath. Hell, I’m going to start sweating and may need to put my head between my knees and scream until my lungs are empty. I’m panicking. I have 4 more days before I reach the big 2-7.

Okay, I know 27 isn’t typically one of those age numbers that people get worked up about, but for me it’s began to fill like this giant drop off point and there’s a big orange and white blockade with one of those incredibly bright orange rotating lights that is trying to warn me of something. Oh, that’s right. It’s warning me that my 20s are seeping away. It’s warning me that I’ve been out of college for 5 years (where the hell did that time go?) and I haven’t been to even half the places I was so eager to go and I’m standing here staring at a computer screen wondering what the hell I’m doing.

I always figured 26 would be the one that hit me in the gut. The one that said that I’m officially closer to 30 then to 21. The one that says I can’t just act like a dumb ass or screw up monumentally if I feel like it, because I’m an adult. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been fiscally responsible for myself since I was 18. Nope. Still didn’t feel like an adult then, just a teenage with a lot of life pressure and bills.

To squelch my panic-ridden-aging-self, I’m taking another step. In truth, 26 has been filled with lots of steps from giving the idea of having a life plan my middle finger to embracing my new desire to do something good for others and not only myself. But this one is a big one. I’m making my dreams and wants a priority. No more focusing on the what I should be doing. Should is over rated anyway.

I’m not selfish; I’m just living my life for me, for the enjoyment, pleasure and fulfillment of me. I’m embracing that mantra. I’m going to tattoo it on my forehead so that when I wake up every morning it’s in my face saying “Hey. Remember me? What you said you’re going to do with your life?” I’m stopping just being and getting back to living. Maybe I'll make a bucket list for my 20s. Who said it had to be for when you die?

What is your priority?

Hump Day - Get Over It

I'm having one of those days. The one where you feel like yanking at the roots of you hair - not to pull it out cause then you'd be bald, but merely to give it a good stretch praying it will relieve some of this tension you feel. At the very least it should at least pull the skin on my forehead a little tighter like a natural botox treatment getting rid of these two little lines that are becoming permanently embedded between my eyebrows. And I know the two instigators are causing those lines: one- the man, two - the j-o-b. So for today's Hump Day we are going to relieve some of that tension.

Dear Dryer. I hate you.

Let me begin by saying I’m not the kind of person who automatically resorts to blaming others for my shortcomings. However, since this obviously isn’t my shortcoming, but a morbid plot that my laundering machinery has hatched out, I feel the need to call that bitch out.

Let me assure you that it hasn’t started all at once. She’s been sneaky about it. She started by shrinking one article then another. It was all done so casually that I even began to blame the man for a short amount of time. After all, he’s a guy’s guy and those types are notorious for being less then efficient in any domestic matters. I probably owe him an apology since it wasn’t him who shrunk two of my favorite sun dresses so it now looks like I’m purposely trying to show the world what color my thong is. Natural to think he may have had something to do with that.

However, now that overgrown piece of soon to be scrap metal is being just plain unforgiving. I went to put on my favorite pair of jean shorts last weekend, you know the kind all worn and comfy and glorious in the summertime, and she’d done it again. The damn things wouldn’t button!

I was forgiving when she shrunk my capris to the point that they now cut off the circulation to my legs. I may walk like I’m on stilts because I can’t bend my knees in my only pair of expensive rock republic jeans, but I didn’t hold it against her.

I checked in with every girls arch nemesis, the dreaded scale. And no, he’s not out to get me. He happily told me I’ve only put on two measly pounds this summer, most likely from all that South American vacation food. I’m very doubtful that all two pounds somehow managed to migrate directly to my ass.

Which leaves me with one conclusion, that harmless looking lint pot has it out for me.  With this last assault she has gone too far. I hate her. I’m calling her out. This. Means. War.

Who would you like to send hate mail too?

Duck Tape Prom Dresses?

Have you ever seen something so creative it makes you stop and stare for a minute? Literally, you stare at it for a whole minute. That’s what I just happened to me. I was baffled. The creativity and talent some people have truly amazes me!

I read about the Duck Tapes Stuck at Prom Scholarship Content today and was completely envious of some serious talent these people have. That and I was baffled that apparently this has been going on for 10 years and I’d never heard of it before. Seriously though, I can’t even wrap a bowl in saran wrap without it looking like serious mess let alone make something wearable out of duct tape. The crazy part (yes, aside from the fact that it is tape) is that you can’t even tell this is tape!

It's a Monday - My brain isn't working & I'm digging random crap day!

I'm obsessed with random crap. Random facts, talents, urges, thoughts, misadventures, whatever. And no, not the dirty kind of urges all you pervs who's head instantly sank to the gutter and is probably still bobbing along in there, but the odd kind like that sudden urge you have to stick gum in someone's ear because it is a hole and you suddenly have the random urge to plug that hole. Or maybe you feel the need to suddenly visit every town in the U.S. with a sexually innuendo in it's name. Whatever that randomness may be I love it. Love to hear about it, Love to share it.

My randomness today is filled with a few things. First, I decided to hop onto the Mingle Monday at Life of Meg this morning and check out some new random blogs that I would never of found otherwise.

Second, I came across this sweet ad (go figure I'm in marketing) promoting the Bloody Mary Tudor exhit at the London Dungeon. This is truly amazing and would definitely catch my attention! And apparently I'm not the only one. It's now been banned in train stations and tubes where it ran because of complaints form parents who's children crapped their pants upon seeing it. Literally! Now that is a good ad.



Third on my random plate today are these fun suitcase stickers from TheCheeky.com. Yes, they may cause a few odd looks from people as you wheel your suitcase through the airport and you may have to do some explaining in the security line, but you'd never pick up the wrong bag or have some random guy fondle your bag ever again.

   

What is your randomness today?

Blame it on the Booze. Blame it on Jenny.

I realized the other day that it has been way, and I mean WAY too long since I've gotten together with some of my best girlies from college. I was telling the man how it was time for me to have a random girls weekend. We all live only a few hours apart, so we try to get together and hang, drink beers, make snarky comments at anyone in the vicinity – in essence be our fabulous selves - every few months. Unfortunately March was our last go round. The man’s comments to my spur of the moment idea? “Sure, but don't get thrown out of a bar this time.”

Damn! I swear he never forgets anything. That instantly got me thinking about the last time we were together and how I managed to get my happy ass bounce out of a bar for the second time in my life. Now I feel the need to share. Settle in. It's not a short story, but it's definitely worth it.

The last time the girls all came into town we were going out and getting shitty in true college throw back style which meant a hotel room would become mandatory. (Remember kids, never drink and drive.) After bouncing around to several bars we finally ended up hitting a very cliche clubby style place complete with $8 beers, posers getting bottle service to get girls to talk to them, and a 22-year-old wavering between puking in the toilet and passing out with her face on the seat. This is not my kind of scene at all being a sports bar, live music scene or hidden dive bar kind of girl myself, however some of the others live in the W-Y-O so clubs are a rarity to be explored whenever possible.

Before arriving the night had been fairly tame. We were tipping back drinks, throwing back the occasional shot and laughing about everything out of the other's mouth. Nothing too excessive. I should have known we were in for trouble when Jen sauntered up to one of the poser's with bottle service, grabbed the bottle and topped of all of our drinks with Grey Goose (thank god we were already drinking vodka or that could have gotten nasty.)

Sometime shortly after, and several top offs later, the dancing vibe took hold of us all. As we elbowed our way onto the overcrowded dance floor we somehow managed to get stuck along the side by the velvety roped off booths. I honestly can't remember how it happened, maybe it was just to crowded and Jen didn't realize that the rope was right behind her, but the next thing I know she's falling head first onto the privileged side and dragging me down with her. Apparently they weren't so thrilled to have us literally crashing their little party.

I was up and on my feet quick enough, but Jen definitely wasn't having somehow tangled herself up with the rope and poles that hold it. She did have some assistance though, unfortunately it was in the form of three pissed off bouncers who picked her up  -two at her legs and one with her arms - and began to drag her out of the club. Nothing pisses me off more then rude ass people. They could have asked us to leave or hell better yet turned her over so they weren't carrying her out face down to insure they didn't smack her face on the steps as they hauled her down the stairs and out the door (her face ended up being safe by the way). And since I don't know how to keep my mouth shut and if my friend's ass is getting physically tossed out it's likely I'll be right there mouthing off enough to get tossed too. I'm nothing if not loyal.

But the assholeness didn't stop there. The jerk who'd decided to help me leave the premises didn't just set me down on the street. Nope he felt the need to set me in the middle of the sidewalk and proceed to chest bump me off the curb into the street. I'm 5'4" so having a 6' something guy do this seemed excessive and I wasn't having any of it. I hopped right back up on the curb informing him the sidewalk was public domain and he couldn't evicted me from it with his giant man boobs.

At this point a cop decided to intercede and find out what the issue was. I happily explained my argument and my concerns at the lack of the bouncer's knowledge of the zoning laws, which likely weren't his fault given my doubts that his IQ ever developed past that of a toddler. To my surprise the cop laughed, actually laughed, told the bouncer to desist in harassing me and kindly offered to hail us a cab.


Life Lessons Learned:
1) You can't man handle her, she's a girl! is not a valid argument with bouncers. (Sorry H. It was a good try.)
2) Yelling Put her down now and we can walk out douche bags! will get your ass picked up a hauled out right along with your friend.
3) I can apparently make intelligent legal arguments while bombed.
4) Some cops do have a sense of humor at 1 a.m.