Slackin' off.

I always carry a notebook with me. A fresh book starts off as my diet tracker where I note something along the lines of:

B-Kashi 120 cals, skim milk 80 cals, banana free, coffee
L-LC Panini 300 cals, Soy Crisps 140 cals, diet coke
Sn-apple
TSF (total so far)-640 cals

Then I pig out after work so I barely ever write down what I had for dinner.

The notebook eventually becomes my on-the-go diary, usually venting about work or something stupid. Lately it seems to be my on-the-go blog as well, jotting down ideas or the day's events that I'd like to share. I wrote a few posts on the subway last week, but I don't know, I'm bored with them already. Here's an update:

1. I pretty much stopped drinking since Labor Day. I still go out once or twice a week, but I maybe had 10 beers the whole month of September. I'm so proud of myself!!

2. I also stopped using my credit card too! It's amazing how much crap I would have bought if I could charge it. It's crazy, I actually say to myself, "Okay, you can buy the fifth season of Family Guy on DVD right now and just not eat for the next four days OR wait until your next paycheck you fucking moron."

I have never, ever done this before. Duh...Captain Obvious says I didn't get $20K in the hole by showing some restraint.

3. Rock of Love finale was last week, the reunion tonight. While Jes is the hottest and coolest girl I may never meet, I didn't want her to win. Despite Heather's trashy behavior in the last episode, I thought she and Bret had a nice chemistry. Apparently Jes agreed with me because on the reunion show she told Bret he should have picked Heather. Awesome. Drama to the end. Damn I'm going to miss that show.

4. I expected the Giants to beat the Jets today, but I was pretty upset with the Jets performance in the last half. They're 1-4 now and no sir, I don't like it. I'm going to the Eagles game next Sunday, hopefully I'll still be their good luck charm!

The Giants actually have a shot at a 6-2 record before their bye week...let's see if they can keep it together.

5. Work is going well, but I need to think about some things.

6. Now that I'm not drinking I don't shit as often. My farts still stink though.

7. I'm finally getting a new oven. I'm excited to learn how to cook!

8. I can't figure out what I want to be for Halloween. So many options...

9. I wasn't lying about gaining 20 pounds. I weigh 190 now. Meh.

10. R.I.P Mets 2007 season

Padiddle!

In high school my friends and I used to play padiddle. A "padiddle" is a car with one headlight out. If you're driving around with your pals and see one you simply scream out "PADIDDLE!" and hit the roof of the car with your hand. That's it.

For us it was just fun to scream really loud, but apparently some peeps would take the game a little farther by making the person who did not see the padiddle take off one article of clothing. Sluts!

Speaking of sluts (or at least recovering ones), yesterday I went shopping with Spags. As I was leaving my apartment I noticed that my right nipple was hard, my left one soft.

I thought okay, maybe it will go down if I warm up a bit so I rubbed it while walking to the subway. No such luck, instead it just got harder. (I'm sure some of the old Greek men sitting on their stoops did too as I walked by, fa!)

Then I thought okay, maybe my left one needs some lovin' to even things out. I began rubbing lefty as well. No luck there either, is it possible to have whiskey nips?

By then I gave up, figuring the right one would eventually cool it's loins, hopefully before I poke someone's eye out. Yeah, no. It stayed like that all day.

I, my friends, was a walking padiddle. See?



Best thing about gaining 20 pounds this year (yes twenty, more on that when I finally stop eating and/or crying)...my breasts are HUGE!!

Book of Job

I went downstairs to chat with Bucket this morning. I didn't want to bring up the hot dodgeball guy, Job (his alias) but Bucket knows me too well...

and told me that JOB'S SINGLE!!!! WOO HOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Happy 33rd!!!

Happy 33rd Birthday to Mr. Megkefel. Can't wait to see you and my ladies later!

Happy 33rd Anniversary to my mom and dad. Not like they read this or anything. Please God.

Doges of Dodging!

Tonight I played dodgeball for the first time in oh, I don't know, 20 years maybe?? Still fucking rocks!

Me and a few Company peeps joined an intramural league. We play once a week for the next six weeks. It is so totally fun. I wish we could play every day.

Our team name is Doges* of Dodging. Leave it to Bucket to pick a name I don't understand. Damn editors. The movie Dodgeball was on FX the other day. I actually took mental notes for rules and strategy. It didn't pay off though, since all my balls kept getting caught. Fa!

Despite Manic Monday, this was a pretty good week. I got really anxious today though and I'm sad to admit that I was nervous about the game!! Yes. Me. Nervous over fucking dodgeball. I'm really glad I powered through the stupid nerves because I had an absolute blast. I can't wait to play again!

Besides being the funnest thing ever, there is a totally hot guy on the team. He's Bucket's friend, I think I met him once about a year ago. He had a girlfriend back then and I'm pretty sure they lived together. Oh well, he's still delightful to look at.

Donovan's on the team too, which is really nice. I hope that he and I can finally become friends. I still want to ram my tongue down his throat, but other than that I'm over him. Or not. No, I am. I'm over him, I just ya know, I'd sit on his face if he asked me to.

I'm shaking my head and rolling my eyes at myself...

*doge (dōj) n. The elected chief magistrate of the former republics of Venice and Genoa**.


**Genoa's a salami, right??

Let it ride.

I'm coming out of a panic attack. My mind is empty, my chest hurts, my arms and hands look separate from my body. I'm watching my fingers type, but I'm not quite sure who's controlling them...

Panic attacks suck. I don't get the "breathe into a paper bag and suffer a heart attack from guilt" kind, I get the hippie "I did too much acid and now either Jesus or Jimi is calling me" kind.

I left work around 6:30pm and walked to 59th and Lex to catch the R train. When I got to Astoria I picked up a couple of things at the grocery store and then ate dinner while watching reruns of ANTM on MTV. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Around 9pm I was feeling weird, so I turned off the television. I started to feel the fog coming over me. In this early stage of an attack I give myself two options, beat it or join it.

I've learned to join it by meditating for however long "it" needs. If I keep myself calm and positive, this can be a very rewarding and cleansing experience.

Tonight was not like that. I actually tried to beat it, which never works out. I jumped off my couch and began pacing around trying to do something normal to keep myself in reality. I closed my bedroom window. I put my dirty clothes in the hamper. I washed dishes. This is when I began to lose it because the only way I could finish them was by doing a play-by-play: "I'm washing a bowl. Now I'm washing a spoon." etc.

In my case, fighting an attack really makes things worse. The anxiety becomes too strong and turns to fear, the fear goes black, and a silent pain takes over.

No matter how used to it I become I always wonder, "Is this the end? Is this the moment I finally lose it and never come back?" All I can do is close my eyes, have a good cry, and wait.

At this point my chest still hurts, but luckily my hands and arms have been reattached. I have some idea what I just wrote...

and it's fucked. I'M fucked, but truthfully I've never been any other way.

I guess I could go back and rewrite this now that I'm back to "normal."

Fuck it. I'm letting it ride.

NFL Week 3 Early Recap

It fucking worked!! The Giants have their first win!! I will never pick them to win again...

Jets and Raiders won today too, so it was a great day for Thighs family football teams. Very happy right now!

I haven't really watched the Cowboys and Bears tonight. I had to watch the Family Guy Star Wars episode instead. Hysterical!! They showed clips at the SDCC and FG Live shows, so I had already seen most of the funny parts. Totally didn't matter though because I still laughed my ass off.

So with two games left I'm 8-6. I think I'm going to quit writing these posts...I'm starting to feel embarrassed.

Is it just me or does Al Michaels sound like Howard Stern's and Casey Kasem's lovechild?

30th Birthday Trip

I've wanted to plan a 30th birthday trip for the past 7 years now. Of course back then no one cared to think about the "dreaded" three-oh, so it wasn't until the past few months that the Petes and I began really discussing ideas.

I wasn't too sure how to go about pleasing at least 10 chicks (bedroom skills aside, fa!) so I laid out a couple of guidelines.

1. Affordable (perhaps even all-inclusive)
2. Convenient travel
3. Something for everyone (ie beaches, spas, clubs)
4. A zipline (This is for me. I've always wanted to do an adventure trip where I can fly through the forest zipping from tree to tree.)

Well I found the perfect spot, Puerto Vallarta. It has everything: all-inclusive packages, a direct flight from NY, and all the relaxing or adventurous activities you could ask for. I was TOTALLY sold, but then too many exciting things happened this summer!!

The engagements, new homes, new jobs, new outlooks, new everything...I must say this has been such an amazing year for all of us. 2008 is shaping up to be even better.

So between all the money, stress, and limited amount of vacation days between us, I have decided to condense the 30th birthday trip into a long weekend somewhere with the hopes that anyone who wants to come can make it. Not sure if tripods are invited. I'll have to consult the ladies as this was going to be a girl only trip. We'll see.

My first thought of course is VEGAS BABY...phone lines and email are now open for ideas!

WHOOOOA THIRTY!!

NFL Week 2 Recap and Week 3 Picks

I wrote up this whole explanation as to why I was a shitty 8-8 last week, but I can't find it anywhere. There were a lot of upsets though so I don't feel too bad, but I've decided I'm not going to pick the Giants all season. Hopefully they'll win some now.

I have nothing witty to say for this week's games. I'm too annoyed with NY NFL teams thus far and to jump to baseball real quick, don't even get me started on the Mets...

Week 3

Sunday, September 23
ARI @ BAL: Ravens
BUF @ NE: Patriots
CAR @ ATL: Panthers
CIN @ SEA: Seahawks
CLE @ OAK: Raiders
DAL @ CHI: Bears
DET @ PHI: Lions
IND @ HOU: Colts
JAC @ DEN: Broncos
MIA @ NYJ: Jets
MIN @ KC: Vikings
NYG @ WAS: Skins
SD @ GB: Chargers
SF @ PIT: Steelers
STL @ TB: Rams

Monday, September 24
TEN @ NO: Saints

Hibernation Season

My mom used to wake me for school by saying, "Thighs, get up. It's **insert weather condition** so you'll need a **specific outerwear or accessory**."

For example:
"... It's 58 degrees out so you'll need a light jacket."
"... It's raining out so you'll need an umbrella."

She did this until I was probably 14. It's funny that I almost forgot. Nowadays I watch NY1 for Weather on the Ones, mainly because I'm a streetwalker (hee hee) and getting caught in a storm sucks. I wonder if I'd still watch it if my mom called me every morning...oh wait, then I'd have to talk to her pre-coffee. Yikes.

My mom is also famous for explaining illness with "It's the change in seasons." The sniffles, a cough, the flu, backaches, any icky feeling was always blamed on the time of year. I could be bleeding from my eyeballs and she'd still say it.

It used to annoy the shit out of me, but then there was a point when I practically convinced myself I'd be sick when the seasons changed. Granted this was back in my cigarette and drug days when I always seemed to have bronchitis, but it really did seem like clockwork. I think Winter into Spring-sick would hit me the hardest. Ugh, I just remembered when I used to try to smoke a Marlboro with a sore throat, swollen glands, and disgustingly furry mucous.

Anyways, this week I'm feeling kind of poopie. Not sure if I'm feeling sick-poopie or just poopie-poopie. One thing's for sure, I will not be telling my mom I don't feel well because I have a sneaky suspicion she's just waiting for it. Take that, Mommy!

So the past couple of days I've been a good girl by laying low to recharge my batteries. I'm feeling really heavy, but not like fat-heavy, more like dense-heavy. Ooo that's it...I'm dense and tired. I could sleep for the next month! I don't have plans this weekend either and I'm pretty psyched about it...

MUST...SLEEEEEEP...

FYI, in the Blogger spellchecker "poopie" isn't a word. Instead they offer "poo pie". HAHA!!

And all that jazz!

My weekend in Chicago with Fish...

Gosh, I really don't know what I want to write and I REALLY don't know when I started using the word "gosh," but I've been saying it a lot lately.

The main reason I went to Chicago was because I was scared shitless to go. With that I realize this trip was not just a test for Fish, but for myself.

Fish met me at the hotel on Friday. As cliche as it sounds, as soon as I saw him it was like no time had passed since San Diego. I instantly got all warm and fuzzy inside. It felt really good.

Saturday we ran around Chicago taking pics and being silly all day. Completely random, that night Family Guy Live! was in town, which was hysterical since the Family Guy panel at the SDCC was technically our first "date." Seth MacFarlane now gets to hump either Fish or me the next time we see him.

Sunday was cool for the most part, except of course that the FUCKING GIANTS SUCK MY ASS. (More on this when I recap my shitty picks from last week.) I was sort of grumpy after the game and Fish wasn't feeling too well either so I guess you could say we were cranky wankers all day. Sadly we were so cranky that um, yeah, by the end of the night we actually had an argument. An argument!!!

I won't go into specifics, but let me tell you it was not the kind of argument two people who barely know each other have. Words like love, selfish, pushy, hard (not penis hard), sad, bad, compromise, etc. were yelled at each other in the middle of the street...gosh, hearing it now I think we sounded like we were friggin' married. Scary.

I just counted, Fish and I have only breathed the same air for approximately 59 hours in a seven week span. That's less than six cycles of America's Next Top Model! Fuck!

So where does that leave "us?" I have no clue. How do I feel? Well I totally passed my test because I realized something very important this weekend...

I'M NOT BROKEN!!

I'm actually able to like someone who's real, not a fantastical version of who I want him to be like Donovan or FB or Ohio John or who the fuck else. I like someone enough to fly across the country to see him! I like someone enough to argue! I like someone so much that I cream my pants when I think about him!! And the greatest realization...I like someone so much that I want to be the best person I can be, not for him, but for me!!

I get it now! I won't be much good for anyone if I'm not good to myself. I am so proud that I faced my fears and went to see him. I feel wiser, stronger, and better than I have ever felt. It really was an amazing weekend, argument and all.

So shit, I didn't just pass my test...I got an A+ with a gold star on a yellow Success Card!

NFL Week 2 Picks

I'm leaving for Chicago tomorrow night (WOOHOO!) so here are my early picks. I feel pretty good about them, just as long as none of the star players get arrested for dogfights, cockfights, bullfights or child pornography before Sunday.

Sunday, September 16

ATL @ JAC: Jaguars
BUF @ PIT: Steelers
CIN @ CLE: Bengals
DAL @ MIA: Cowboys
HOU @ CAR: Panthers
IND @ TEN: Colts
KC @ CHI: Bears
MIN @ DET: Vikings, although I'm not too sure about it.
NO @ TB: Saints
OAK @ DEN: Broncos (Sorry Dad.)
SEA @ ARI: Seahawks
SF @ STL: Rams

GB @ NYG: Giants. This matchup is the reason I'm going to Chicago. Fish's a cheesehead so I thought it would be cool to watch the game together. I'm picking NY because the Eagles looked like shit last week, so I think the Packers win was a fluke. Smack talk starting already...

NYJ @ BAL: Ravens. Is it "the best defense is offense" or "the best offense is defense"? Either way, where the fuck was NY's offensive line last week?

SD @ NE: Patriot Assholes. NE cheating is like a chick with double D's stuffing her bra. What's the point?

Monday, September 17

WAS @ PHI: Iggles

NFL Week 1 Recap

Week 1 is over and I'm 11-5. I might suck at this. Highlights:

1. The Patriots are a fucking powerhouse. Brady looked good and since he doesn't have enough star rushers/receivers (sarcasm), they just HAD to sign Randy Moss who had 9 catches for 183 yards (TOMMY!) in his first start with NE. Damn you Belichick, you shabby genius!

2. I can't believe the Packers won. Good for Favrererer.

3. Bears/Chargers game ended up being on FOX. LT is insane. He scored a TD and threw a TD pass. Awesome.

4. It's awful what happened to Kevin Everett. I know that's the chance players take, but jesus, it's scary and such a shame.

5. Why am I both a Jets AND a Giants fan? Oh that's right, I'm a masochist with low self-esteem that grew up in the Tri-State area.

It was not a fun day for NY fans. Chad's hurt, Eli's hurt...my stomach hurts just thinking about this season. Oy vey.

Random Diary Entry: May 5, 1986

In 2nd grade my teacher had us write in our Daily Diary. I found it the other day, so here is a glimpse into my mind at the ripe young age of 8. Nothing's really changed 22 years later.

Today is Monday, May 5, 1986. Today is the 146 day of school. I would like to tell you about Saturday and today. Saturday morning my mother had to go to work. So she did. It was elven fourty-five, so my father took a nap. My brother was hungry when it was twelve zero five. Then he went into the refridgearator. He took out the potato chips. I only took two. When he put them away he saw that I changed the channel on the televisoin. Then he smacked me. I said that he was a doodoo brain. He said my breath smells like a chicken. When he turned around I kicked him. Then he started punching my cast. [Ed note: I had broken my arm.] It did not hurt me, it hurt him. Do you know what I did? I took him by his foot and pulled him into our room. I took one of his toys and I was going to hit him, but when he was about to yell to my father, I put the toy down. He was going to say that there was someone trying to kill him. He was going to say that to my father. I had fun.

The best part about the diary is that most of my entries end with "I had fun." or "It was fun." Silly girl.

Mean Streaks

Face it, we all have one. When I'm feeling mean I rarely act out on it, but man, when I finally do it will. be. GLORIOUS. Here are my go-to meandreams.

When someone is:

1. bending down to tie their shoe, I push them over, point and laugh at them.

2. walking their dog my scenarios vary between grabbing the dog and running or kicking the dog in the face and standing there, waiting to see what the owner would do.

3. taking up the whole sidewalk by walking side by side with someone else, I either clothesline them both or tackle one of them to the ground, with the hopes of cracking their skull on the pavement.

4. walking and then suddenly stops short, I pull out a megaphone and say "THERE'S NOTHING TO SEE HERE. KEEP MOVING."

5. talking really loud on their cell phone I take said phone and shove it down their throat.

This morning I came up with a new meandream. I can't tell if it's funny, dumb, or a sign I've seen the Breakfast Club too many times. I'll share anyways.

Today I kept imagining going up to people and screaming "I'M THRILLED _____!" Examples:

I'M THRILLED you can blow cigarette smoke in my face as I walk by.
I'M THRILLED you walk slower than my dead grandfather.
I'M THRILLED you didn't fucking shower today and smell like spicy eggfarts.
I'M THRILLED you stuck it to the man by blocking the train doors.
I'M THRILLED you think I have a black woman ass Mr. Delivery Guy.

And last but not least, I'M THRILLED that today I hated everyone for no reason.

So that was my day. It ended on a high note though because I finally saw Superbad. Oh my hell, it was fantastic. Go see it as soon as possible.

Siiighhh...I'M THRILLED to go to bed and start fresh tomorrow.

I Love New York!

Last week I was all about New York baseball as I was invited to both a Yanks and a Mets game. Thanks Megkefel and DaQ!

Mariners vs. Yankees, 09/04/07. Yanks won 12-3 and a squirrel warmed our hearts.

Oh, Yankees Stadium. I hadn't been to a game in at least three years. I was a hardcore fan back in the 90s when I guess everyone was. It started wearing off a bit by college with the Subway Series. My best friend and roommate at the time was a huge Mets fan so I became more interested in the underdog rather than the front runner.

But damn do they still have talent. Jeter and A-Rod really are amazing to watch, so I'm glad I went. The stadium? Well now that I've been on the tour it's pretty shitty! And Yankee fans? I hate to say this, but the vibe was shitty too! I think there are two types of Yankee fans, the ones that are baseball fans and the ones that aren't. I like anyone who respects and appreciates the sport, I despise the fans that are mean-spirited Yankee starfuckers.

I must say, while I had a blast with my friends, I think I'm ready to be a full-on Mets fan. Here's why..

Astros vs. Mets, 09/07/07. Mets won 11-3 and DaQ's family warmed MY heart.

We've got heart! (Yes I'm already using "we" statements.) The minute we walked in the stadium was electric, the vibe was all things good, and the fans were positively pumped. Sure there are dickheads in the mix (it's NY after all), but it was such a difference than the Bronx. Maybe it's because I've lived in Queens for over three years or maybe it's because I subconciously chose the Mets long ago. Whatever it is, every game I go to, win or lose, is always a great day of baseball.

New stadiums for both teams? Yay or Nay?

I say "Yay". I'm excited for both teams to get a new home. I'm sure it will suck to get tickets at first, but weeknight games are rarely sold out so I can understand the drop in available seats. Here are some pics of both. I didn't have my camera at the Yankee game, so I had to make do with my camera phone.

Are you ready for some football??

Instead of doing fantasy, I think I'm just going to post my picks each week. I really should get HBO for the season. I love the show Inside the NFL.

WEEK 1

Thursday, September 6
I swear I picked the Colts.

Sunday, September 9
TEN @ JAC: Jaguars
ATL @ MIN: Vikings
PIT @ CLE: Steelers
KC @ HOU: Chiefs
PHI @ GB: Eagles
NE @ NYJ: Sadly, Patriots
DEN @ BUF: Broncos
CAR @ STL: Panthers
MIA @ WAS: Redskins
TB @ SEA: Seahawks
DET @ OAK: Raiders for my dad.
CHI @ SD: I wish I had the NFL Ticket, too. Great game, I pick Chargers.
NYG @ DAL: The NFC East is my favorite division. I hate the fucking Cowboys almost as much as I hate the Patriots. If there's ever a Dallas/New England superbowl, I will boycott and have an Anti-Boobie Bowl party that year. We'll watch Beaches and Steel Magnolias or something.

I'm pissed now. I'll pick the Giants so that if they lose I can be even more angry. AARRRGGHHH!

Monday, September 10
BAL @ CIN: Bengals
ARI @ SF: Niners

Put the camera phone down!

Word to the wise, taking pictures of your own breasts is harder than you'd think.

Yes, I'm sober.

GP

GP was let go today. I feel an incredible amount of guilt for three reasons:

1. GP really is a good person. I wish he would have let people help him out more.

2. My problem with him was definitely not the deciding factor, but most likely a contributing one.

3. Part of me really wanted him to be fired.

I feel awful. I wonder if I'm making myself feel bad so that I won't imagine how he feels.

What did I learn from GP?

1. The importance of good communication (both verbal and non), charisma, loyalty, and personal responsibility.

2. It's okay to be wrong or to just let. it. go.

3. Documentation is a good thing.

4. Silence is golden.


I wish him well.

I'm ready.

I'm ready to write about Fish. It's about fucking time, especially since I'm going to Chicago in 11 days to see him. The interesting part about it is, I have less to say about how I feel about him and more to say about how I feel about myself in regards to him. Does that make sense?

The day Fish and I spent together in San Diego was one of the best days of my life. Why? Because on that day I was my best.

My insecurities, my negative thoughts, my hurt, and my sadness were only parts of me instead of my whole being. I allowed my light to shine through my darkness and it was beautiful.

I was beautiful. I was strong, confident, and at peace. I knew who I was and who I was meant to be. Everything about myself made sense and had a purpose. I was whole and it was wonderful.

Fish did something that no one has ever done before. He made me fall in love with Me.

Best. Day. Ever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wish I could say the weeks since I began dating myself have been filled with those same positive feelings, but it's been pretty rocky. Honestly, all I want to do is barf.

Every time I think about Me, the chunks rise in our throat, I clench our teeth, and hope to God We don't blow chunks. We're nauseated right now.

What happens if I continues to make Me sick? Am I in a position to pursue Me so that We even have a chance? What happens if Me and I run out of things to say to ourselves? Do I even know Me well enough to be asking these questions?

My family is concerned that both I and Me will get hurt. I don't think it's a possibility considering that for Me to think it, I would know it, so there shouldn't be any surprises. Even so, I have been down that road enough to know We'll eventually be okay. It's the road where things go well that scares the shit out of Me...

I wonders if AAA gives Trip Tix to Good. Me thinks I already know Bad like the back of our hand.

Live from Jackson, New Jersey Conclusion

I'm smashed. If I could type with my forehead, I would. Hmmm....

yhtg6gtfvuhjytgyfredfuhjy

In drunk world the above says, "Yo hot guy. Sex got flavor, UH. Joy to guy. Fred fudge ya."

I'm cracking myself up right now...

Family parties es stupido. Well, not really but when will they stop feeling like a chore? When will I stop wanting to sit at the little kid table? I prefer talking to people under 10 years old. They are fun.

My eyes are rolling in the back of my head. I miss Fish. I miss Delilah. I miss my bed. I drunk.

Do know what's special about this sentence?

"The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dogs."

It uses every letter in the alphabet. It was a clue in an Encyclopedia Brown case.

I'm going to regret publishing this, huh?

Live from Jackson, New Jersey (cont')

11. I signed on to start my draft and for some reason my team The Little Giants, didn't appear. I checked my email and sure enough I got a message from the Commissioner:

I'm really sorry, but I have to remove your team from the fantasy league. It won't let us play with an odd number of teams, and you were the last to join. I feel really bad because I invited you to play. Sorry :-(

Son of a whore! Oh well, I'm too fucked up to concentrate anyways.

12. My cousin Craig has a tattoo of Wile E. Coyote on one asscheek, Road Runner on the other. He's had this for quite a while, at least 10 years. Turns out he got two more. On the side of his hip Wile E. caught up with Road Runner and choked him to death. Below his belly button is Underdog. Yes, Underdog.

13. I can't believe I haven't seen Superbad yet.

14. My contacts have melded to my eyeballs.

Live from Jackson, New Jersey

Labor Day party in full effect. Some tidbits thus far:

1. My mom yelled at me, saying I didn't dry off the chip bowls well enough. "The chips will get fucking soggy! JESUS!" Ahhh...motherly love. I cried a little.

2. I miss Rippie.

3. Apparently Jessica Alba has herpes. My dad heard this on WRAT so it must be true.

4. I poo pooed on a poo poo.

5. I drank four Coronas in three hours.

6. The best way to get on my mom's good side is to wash the dishes.

7. My fantasy football draft starts in 1 hour and 45 minutes. I'm nervous.

8. Mosquitoes still love me!

9. My teenage cousins are cooler than I am.

10. Perversion and sass are genetic.

I'm a luna-tic.

I love astrology, but I'm hating the lunar eclipse right now.

I have four planets in Pisces: the Sun, the Moon, Mercury, and Venus. In layman's terms this means I'm as Pisces as you can get.

This also means that when the moon is in Pisces, I feel more emotional and intuitive. If there's a full moon in Pisces, quadruple that shit and add in some crazy. If there is a lunar eclipse with a full moon in Pisces as there was this week...well I'm surprised I haven't shaved my head and fucked a chicken yet. Eh, the night is young.

A fellow fishie pointed out that I haven't written too much the past week or so. I blame it on the cosmos. I am a wreck, but not my usual wreck-self. I'm all over the place: I'm tired yet intense, I'm scared yet excited, I'm gassy but not poopie. To go with my scattered sense, here's a random update:

1. Work has been great ever since the whole "I'm controlling" thing. I swear to Shizza, nothing has really bothered me and I'm actually enjoying GP for his quirks. Yaay!

2. My side was hurting the other day, but the pain was nothing compared to last month. I'm still keeping tabs on Cicely though. Let's hope I don't piss her off any time soon.

3. I = fat. Seriously, I'm feeling humongous. While I'm still skinnier than my heaviest days, the mere fact I'm back in that ballpark fucking blows. Low point of the week: I thought I was going to rip my pants so I went out and bought a new pair at lunch. FATTY FAT FATTY.

4. Mosquitoes love me. I am covered in bites and stink like old, minty death from this anti-itch lotion I bought. It works really well, but yeah, I smell like a retirement home.

5. I went to Jersey the past two weekends, first to my parental units to catch up, then down to Spag's house at the shore. I'm going down (heh) again this weekend for the Thighs Family annual Labor Day party. Rippie, I totally wish you could go!

6. I'm also going to Chicago for a couple days on the 14th. This is where the scared yet excited comes in...more on that some day.

7. I had a pretty crazy night last week. I got home after 4am. I remember most of the night, although I totally don't remember how I got the bump on my head. I might be at the point in my life when getting bombed and going to a strip club on a weeknight isn't worth the horrible office hangover the next day. Might.

8. I've joined my first fantasy football league. Draft is next week

9. I heard that some Company peeps are asking about this blog. If anyone wants to read about my personal shit (literally), it's cool. Welcome. I'm Thighs, my favorite color is blue, and I'm a manic-depressive giggler.

Why God, WHY?!?!

Two of my favorite watering holes closed down this month, The Collins Bar and The Blarney Stone.

I frequented Collins Bar once every few months. A small dark pub, Collins was not a hoppin' place, but if you like good beer you knew to come here (rhyme time!). Flying Dog, Stone, Sam Smith, Chimay, Ommegang, the list goes on. Add in some free popcorn and a painting of a hot naked chick in the back corner near the ladies room...well, I don't think there's much more to ask for in a pub.

Bridge and I have great conversation wherever we are, but I sure will miss having them at Collins. I stole this pic from her blog, it was taken the other night when we tried to get a drink there. So sad.

While Collins was a place to get good beer, The Blarney Stone was a good place to get pissed. I went over there tonight for one last pint. Okay, two last pints.

I believe there are about six or seven Blarney Stones in the city, some of which are really shitty. Wait, let me rephrase that. They are ALL really shitty, but there's "fun-shitty" and then there's "I'm-going-to-get-hepatitis-shitty". I believe the one on 32nd was the former.

I'm not sure how many times I've been there, but I realize now it wasn't nearly enough. Every night I went the Guinness was flowing, the old, worn out regulars were bombed yet sweet, and the smell of urine was oh so fresh...good times.

Damn. I've already lost Chumley's and Blind Tiger (I have no interest in going to its new location), what's next?? I'm thinking I need to hit up White Horse, The Ear, and McSorley's in the near future to be safe, let me know if anyone's interested. Stupid fucking condo building douchebags.

There's a new boy in my life!

He is short, bald, toothless, and totally handsome.

He drools and poops a lot which is exactly what I look for in a guy.

It's a shame he's practically 30 years younger than me.

Schmidtface, once Cale is potty-trained I'm taking him out on the town. Baseball games, amusement parks, ice capades (do they still do stuff on ice?), the zoo, everywhere!

I will be the most fun non-related aunt he's ever had!

My Big Fat Year of Weddings!

Part of living the spinster life requires one to surround themselves with other spinsters.

In doing so I've only been to about five weddings since college. Having avoided the bridesmaid or maid of honor gigs at all five, my only "duties" were to heavily drink and sweat, two things I've come to master over the years.

2008 is another story. I have four weddings in one year! Four! Well actually the invites haven't come yet, but I know I'm invited to all four. I BETTER be invited to all four!

I love, love, LOVE weddings. Drinking and dancing aside, I feel so honored when I'm invited to share a couple's special day. I love meeting their families and friends, who guided the bride and groom to each other; witnessing the very beginning of their new lives together; and then the drinking and dancing.

To my engaged friends, Carla and Steve, Jackie and Andre, Eronica Monster (Ron and Erica), and now Tom and Julie...congratulations, I love you all, and can't wait wait WAIT for the party....

I am invited, right?

To my non-engaged friends, any chance you can wait until 2009 to tie the knot??

Worst. Vocabulary. Ever.

Just making sure...have I mentioned dictionary.com is my favorite website?

in·sub·or·di·nate /ˌɪnsəˈbɔrdnɪt/ Pronunciation Key - [in-suh-bawr-dn-it]

–adjective
1. not submitting to authority; disobedient: an insubordinate soldier.
2. not lower.
–noun
3. a person who is insubordinate.

Breakthrough No. 8: I'M CONTROLLING!

I get it now...I'M CONTROLLING!!!

I seriously can't stop shouting it. It feels so good to finally realize this. Yeah, yeah I'm sure most of you already knew this about me. Hell you've probably even told me I'm a control freak (Bridget), but at the time I just didn't get it. I do now.

This was a completely uncomfortable week for me. I felt embarrassed, guilty, and nervous about my behavior at work. My chest and heart were heavy, my stomach in knots. I got really depressed the other night and it TOTALLY sucked. Of course now I know it was well worth it considering how great i feel today. Here's the breakdown of my Breakthrough No. 8.

Admitting that I have been disrespectful and insubordinate (Thank you Anonymous, you rattled me once again. Dick.) was the first step. Outbursts and arguments I had over the past couple years came flooding back to me and it wasn't easy seeing them with new eyes. I had to ask myself:

Why do I get so angry?

This happened a lot with one VP. You tell him something eight times and a month later he accuses you of not telling him. I'd get so angry and fight him on it because I didn't want Red to think I wasn't doing my job. In other words, my fear of disappointing my boss made it personal for me, which then got me on the defensive.

Why do I get so defensive?

When I'm defensive I feel like I'm under attack. Being under attack makes me feel like I'm NOT IN CONTROL.

Why do I need to be in control?

Psych 101, because my mom was completely out of control. Growing up I never knew what was going to happen when she got home from work. Would she come in screaming? Would she lock herself in her bedroom and not talk? Would she sit on the couch and not move? Would she actually be happy for once??

My safe place was our basement. I'd put my headphones on and dance for hours. I would daydream about hitting the game winning homerun, having the guy I like ask me out, or going back to school after summer vacation skinnier, prettier and more popular. My imaginary world was so vivid and fulfilling. I loved every minute of it. Oh man, I almost forgot that when someone came down in the basement while I was there, I threw a shitfit. I hated being brought back to reality before I was ready. It was the worst feeling ever.

I realize now that not only did my imaginary world protect me, it also gave me the sense of control I so desperately wanted. Down there I could be who I wanted, when I wanted, where I wanted, surrounded by the people I wanted. It was perfect, but again, imaginary.

I connected the dots to all of this during Therapy Thursday. Cee said I should be proud that I allowed myself to come to these realizations. You know what? I AM proud.

When I finally said, "I really am controlling, aren't I?" it was like lightning struck. Every cell in my body knew it to be true, the heaviness left my core, and just like that, it all made sense.

I really meant it the other day when I wrote I didn't want to grow and become a better person. It's fucking hard as hell and extremely painful. To be honest though, I kind of love this shit and well now I know...

I'M CONTROLLING!!!

Geeky Tees!

Chips, one of my bestest friends, is launching his own online t-shirt business.

They're not really up and running yet, but if you get a chance, please check out the site and vote on your favorite tee.

www.geekbouteek.com

I told Chips I'd help him out with marketing and promotions, so this definitely won't be the last time I write about it.

Much more to come once Geek Bouteek is fully operational.

LONG LIVE THE GEEKS!

Work dilly (continued)

On Friday I was also told to call Mags at his hotel while he is on vacation with his family. WTF? I call, he asks what's going on, I tell him everything. His response was, "Huh. I'm hearing a very different story from you than I did from GP." It turns out GP told Mags I was unsupportive and rude to him in a meeting on Thursday.

I flipped. I had no idea what Mags was talking about. I was so pissed! He told me that my behavior was unacceptable. Are you fucking kidding me??

So now I want to leave Company. Know why? It's not because GP is a douchebag...I want to leave because Mags was right.

I am ashamed to admit that I have been disrespectful to a lot of my coworkers, most of them in upper management. I can give you a million reasons why, but I know now that none of them matter. It's pretty painful to realize this, especially when all I've ever wanted to do is make Company a better place. Oy, I've been thinking back to some of the things I wrote and said over the past couple years...who the fuck do I think I am??

Why does humble pie taste like shit? It's fucking pie! Can't we call it humble broccoli rabe? (I hate broccoli rabe.)

Maybe I've been needing this little wake up call for awhile now. Who knows, maybe that's what Red and Soaps were trying to do a few months ago. Either way, I figure I have two options at this point, stay or go.

If I stay I can admit to myself I've been wrong and deal with the consequences like a woman. I can figure out how to work with difficult people here before throwing a tantrum at my next company. I can continue to try to NOT REACT to every little thing. (I've come a long way, but that's not saying much when you're a bipolar Irish broad.) Lastly, I can focus on learning new skills that I wouldn't be exposed to at a bigger company.

If I go, well, I get a clean slate. No preconceived notions, judgments, history, nothing. I can start over, keep my mouth shut, and just do what I'm told...

The sad thing is I'm scared to death of leaving!! There, I admitted it. I'm afraid to leave and find out that I'm a fuck up. I'm afraid to leave and have the same damn problems with communicating, reacting, and managing myself at the next place. I'm also tired; this is my third company and fourth job in six years. I have plenty of friends, I don't need no' mo!

Shit, maybe I'm also scared to find out that I'm good at what I do and that I drove myself crazy at Company for nothing. Wouldn't that be a bitch?

Work dilly

Okay, I think I'm ready to write about it.

I mentioned one of my bosses GP a few weeks back. He's the one who likes to close projects that aren't finished and/or push things into production that are flat out wrong. He apparently also likes to keep me down, as he's done nothing to help me complete my own projects OR teach me anything new. Basically GP says four things to me everyday:

1. "No."
2. "It's plumbing."
3. "It's reporting."
4. "...well that's out of the scope of this project..."

Answers 2-4 are responding to my question of "Why?" after he gives me a "No." I realize now this is what he's really saying:

1. "I'm pissed I didn't think of it so you can't do it."

2. "You're too dumb to understand what it takes to do this on the backend."

3. "The users are too dumb to figure out that we fucked up so we will just filter their reporting so that they'll never know."

4a. "I don't know how to do this, so I'll pretend we don't have to."

4b. "It's better to hit my deadline so I'd rather put a faster, mediocre solution out there then do it correctly the first time."

BULLSHIT. We argue at least once a week. Three times it's gone to the head of our department, Mags (the one who hired me). And then there's last week...

On top of the usual crap he pulls, GP reached new heights. Not only did he flat out tell users they didn't have to do something that I've asked them to do for six weeks now, he did it twice. And the best one...on Thursday he actually stood outside a conference room to listen in on a brainstorming session I was having with a coworker. Shizza only knows how long he was actually eavesdropping, but during that time he decided that I don't know enough about the project to move forward while he's on vacation. This meant I had to cancel all of my meetings with the users and lose at least 10 days on a two month project.

I found all of this out on Friday...to be continued after The Soup...

Simpsonized!

Okay, I'm done being a baby.

Now I'm Simpsonized!

Hmm...arms folded seems to fit...maybe I really am a brat at heart.

Bite me.

I'm having one of those days when I just don't want to feel anything. It's not good, it's not bad, it's just I'm sick of...AARRGGHHH!!

You know what I'm sick of??? I'm sick of growing! I'm sick of maturing! I'm sick of being a fucking stupid responsible assfuck adult.

I want someone else to do everything for me. I want to fold my arms and stamp my feet and pout. I want someone else to pay my bills, do my laundry, go food shopping, go to my job, and get me in shape without me actually having to do anything. I don't want to think about my feelings, I don't want to be a better person, I don't want to think about the future.

You know what I DO want??? I want to drink all the time and not get hangovers or ruin my liver. I want to eat whatever the fuck I want and not gain weight. I want to beat the shit out of someone everyday. I want to go on my roof and scream really fucking loud.

I want, I want, I want, goddamit!!

Shit. I really need to get laid.

Work is called work for a reason.

I'm thinking about leaving Company again.

Yes I did just get a great raise, but I don't care. I hate one of my bosses with a passion.

Ugh, I don't even feel like writing about it...

I think I'm done.

Stupid Asshole. Literally.

I had to courtesy flush six times in one sit-down the other day.

Furbie and I had gone to the bar to watch the Mets game during lunch. I ate a corned beef sandwich with fries.

Figures. Fucking Irish.

Since most of these posts are about my bathroom habits, I've created my very own color-coded poop chart for your reading pleasure.**



Less than an hour later my Pooper Alert went from blue to orange, so I ran down to the tenth floor (still can't go on 11) and bombed the hell out of porcelain harbor.

I groaned, I sweat, I nearly cried. It was one of those painful I-am-going-to-die moments that I'm sure you've all had at some point in your lives. If not, you're missing out.

Stupid asshole!


**I also just downloaded a free trial of Photoshop, so this was my first project. More to come, I'm sure!

Happy 19th Anniversary!!!

To me and my P-diddy!!

Yaaayy!

The Police

No I didn't get arrested again...I went to The Police concert Sunday night at Giants Stadium!!

IT WAS AWESOME. One of the best shows I ever went to.

I was probably around 17 when I first heard of The Police. My friend asked if I liked them and I said I didn't know who they were. She laughed, said I was a moron, and popped a tape into the car stereo. Lo and behold, I knew every song.

I am the anti-Rainman when it comes to music; I never know which band sings what, who's even in the band, or what a song's called. If I ever go on The World Series of Pop Culture I pray to Shizza I get all of the television and movie questions. (And then pray even harder those questions are limited to the garbage on VH1, MTV, CW11 and movies that have not been nominated for Oscars.) So despite being musically challenged, both educationally and most definitely vocally, I know what I like...and I liketh The Police.

The concert was friggin awesome. I've never been to a show at Giants Stadium and I'm so glad this was my first. The weather was perfect, the seats were chill, and the music was superb. Sting is fucking gorgeous and sounded better than he ever has. Andy Summers and Stewart Copeland were fan-fucking-tastic as well. It's a shame they don't get along, but honestly you couldn't even tell that night. Each of them looked like they were having a blast.

I can't find the actual set list anywhere, but here's what I remember them playing:
Message in a Bottle
Every Breath You Take
Roxanne
Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic
Don't Stand so Close to Me
So Lonely
King of Pain
Wrapped around Your Finger
Walking On the Moon
Can't Stand Losing You
De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da

I didn't bring my camera with me, so I did the next best thing. While waiting in line for the bus back to NYC I noticed the guy in front of me had taken pictures with his iPhone. I tapped him on the shoulder said something like, "Hi. You don't know me, but can you email me your pictures?"

Total renob moment...but it worked! Here are a couple of my new best friend Terry's pics from his 4th row seats.

PS Apparently it's a renob week as Terry wasn't the only person I randomly attacked. I wore a dress to work today and couldn't zip the back up myself without dislocating a shoulder and since I'm not as cool as Riggs I can't just slam it back in so I left the apartment hoping I'd see someone I knew along the way, but decided to ask the laundromat lady who was sweeping the sidewalk if she would zip me up instead. She did.

PPS Thank you Terry and laundromat lady!

90 days later...

I got my raise! WOO HOO!!!

As Rockstar said, this sure is a kick ass way to come back from vacation.

Californication Finale: Saved as draft

I actually wrote this final part first. I kept reading and revising it all week to get it right.

I realized today though that there's nothing wrong with the post itself, I just don't want to share all of the details yet. I'm going to keep them to myself for awhile.

The original version is saved as draft, so maybe I'll post it one day. In the meantime...

His name is Fish.

We spent our last day together in San Diego.

It was the best part of my vacation...and quite possibly the best day of my life.

Californication Part 5: The Adventures

Baseball games

Phillies vs. Padres, Petco Park 07/20/07:
Many peeps have told me Petco is a great stadium. I was totally unimpressed, but I think a combination of the overcast sky, jetlag, and being on my lonesome took the fun out of it. I don't know what I was expecting (maybe a girl beej in the 3rd inning?), but yeah, ho-hum. The stadium was very spacious and comfortable, though.

I was so exhausted from traveling that I left in the 6th inning. I NEVER leave games early. The only other time I did was back in '03 when the Yanks went into 17 innings one Friday night. Yikes. At least start serving beer again.

Mets vs. Dodgers, Dodger Stadium 07/22/07:
On the complete flipside, Dodger Stadium is awesome. I love the charm of older stadiums, plus the view is amazing. Who knew palm trees and baseball go well together??

And, as promised, I was a full-on Mets fan at this game. Again it was a first for me NOT to root for the home team, but I gotta say, it was fun being the "enemy". There were about seven of us from NY proudly screaming and cheering for our boys who took the win 5-4 in a very exciting game. So fun!

Athletics vs. Angels, Angel Stadium 07/24/07:
Wrigley is still my favorite field to date, but I think Anaheim is my favorite for the newish ones. I actually gasped when I first walked out of the corridor. The game was sold out, the stadium full of energy, and as corny as it sounds there was definitely that Disney magic in the air. TIP: If you go to a night game, try and sit in the upper deck to the left of homeplate. You can see the Disneyland fireworks from there every night around 9pm. We were too far to the right to enjoy them, so poo on you.

My southern California baseball experience overall:
The stadiums are great, the fans are fun, and the views are awesome. I wouldn't mind giving Petco a second chance, but only on a clear day after a good night's rest. My one complaint for all three stadiums: beers were over $7.50!!! Are you kidding me?? My complaint for LA games: too much fucking traffic getting there.

Horseback riding (Brother, don't read this.)

At least once a year I mention how I want to go to a dude ranch. I had a feeling I'd like horseback riding, so I've wanted to play City Slickers for a while now.

Well it was awesome and I, my friends, am apparently a natural. While we went pretty slow (too slow in fact) I felt at ease on Souvenior, my horse with lots o' sass and swagger. The view was breathtaking; sadly we couldn't take any pictures near the horses or on the ride. I was having a great time when it happened...

No I didn't fall. Instead I almost orgasmed. The up and down motion, the hard saddle, the wind in my hair...I swear to Shizza that I was completely and utterly ready to whip Souvie into a frenzy just so he'd tear ass off into the sunset so I can melt into a pool of my own, ahem...

I now understand why so many Wasps ride horses.

Food (this is for Spags!)

Thanks to the Petes, I've been introduced to new and tasty dishes here in NY, so I was interested in what California served up.

The Lobster, Santa Monica Pier: Amazing. I can't remember the exact name of the dish, but the shrimp hummus was to die for.

Maria Sol, Santa Monica Pier: Overpriced crappy Mexican food.

Fish tacos: I only had one in LA. It was okay. I hear the ones at Tin Fish in SD are great.

Top of the Market - Fish Market, San Diego: Excellent. I had the shrimp/crab cocktail and oysters rockefeller. Delish.

Croce's, San Diego: I had the chicken lasagna, Girl had the grilled chicken with mushroom risotto. Happy mouths.

Rock Bottom Brewery, San Diego: I went to their Cleveland locale so I knew we could get a beer and quick bite to eat. The Titan Toothpicks are huge and tasty.

San Diego Comic Con

I've only been to the two NY and two Philly cons; SDCC blows them out of the water. I think NYCC will get better and better, although not sure what it will be like now that it moved to April.

While I didn't spend too much time at the convention, I had a blast. It was so nice to come and go as I pleased. The crowds were chill, the costumes were cool, and the few panels I attended were totally fun. I sat in on a George Romero panel, Company panel, and my favorite, the Family Guy panel. They showed clips for the upcoming Star Wars episode and my god, I laughed my ass off. (LMAO, for you geeks.)

The coolest part of any con is catching up with people you don't get to see very often. I'm so fucking fortunate to not only have met my favorite artists, writers, and other great industry peeps, but also become their friend. It still freaks me out when an industry superstar gives me a hug and is happy to see me. I guess real fangirls never get over that. It's also great to see my coworkers outside of the office; Girl and I got to hang out, gossip about boys and have a nice dinner out on the town.

And then there's the parties. Chewie, Master of Ceremonies, never fails to get everyone together for a good time. While there are many parties and events planned during shows, people always know where to find the late night fun. Chewie always seems to be there!

Vacation Overall

Phew! I'm beat this week, especially after being stuck in Dallas for a six hour flight delay. If you love me you will never book a flight with American Airlines again. They suck ass. Other than that, my vacation was an absolute blast. I would go back to San Diego in a heartbeat. LA, not so much.

There is one more story to tell though...hee hee!

For fuck's sake.

I burned a bag of popcorn in the microwave at 12:30am last night.

I said to myself, "Self, don't put it in for 3 minutes. You'll forget about it and start a fire."

Well, I didn't listen. I was way too caught up in something that I totally forgot about the popcorn until I smelled burning. I whipped open my microwave door and smoke filled my kitchen. I grabbed a towel and tried blowing the smoke out the window, wondering what the smoke signal for "boobies" is. Eventually the smoke cleared, but the stench lingered all night. My neighbors most definitely hate me.

I wouldn't mind making this honest mistake if it wasn't for two things:

1. I was known to burn popcorn so often at Schlepasslick that I was banned from using the microwave.

2. That "something" I was caught up in was watching a cat-fight on Rock of Love.

Moron.

Californication Part 4: Pics! Already!

See how excited I am for you to see my pictures...check them out!

West Coast Adventure

Californication Part 3: Brotherly love

My brother is the best brother ever. I had such a great time hanging out with him. It's funny, we are so much closer now than we ever were...even though he's three thousand miles away.

Rip, I love you lots. I am so proud of the life you made for yourself out there. Thanks for inviting me out, I had an absolute blast.

Thank your roommates (who all rock!) for letting me invade their space and bogart the television to catch up on Flight of the Conchords.

Thank Decki for being such a sweetheart all week, but especially on Saturday when he knew I was nervous and a bit of a freaky pasta getting ready. Oh and for buying me lunch!!

And a special thanks to Devo. I had such a great time with her on my little adventures. They wouldn't have been any fun without her. Awesomest chick ever.

I miss you already!!! I really hope you come to the Jerse for Labor Day.

Californication Part 2: The Golden State

Nine glorious days of sun, fun, beer, Rippie, baseball, and comics. What more can a girl ask for?

I figured I'll do this in parts...let's start with California itself.

Los Angeles

LA fucking blows. I hate it there. I don't understand why it exists, nor do I understand why everyone needs to drive when they are either:
a) stuck in traffic for most of their lives
b) drunk
c) coked up
d) not paying attention to the road (ie gabbing on cell phone, checking make-up)
e) all of the above

And what's up with the homeless? I know that sounds shitty, but seriously, I can't tell if there are more homeless people in LA than NYC. Maybe it's because LA is bright beige that anyone who lives in the streets sticks out like a sore thumb. Totally weird.

Santa Monica

While we were in Devo's car a lot, I got to spend a couple days walking around Santa Monica. Rip's house is pretty close to the 3rd Street Promenade and SM Pier so I got a nice feel for his neighborhood. Santa Monica is really pretty, but again it felt like fake world or something.

Devo and I went to the SM beach one day. The Pacific Ocean totally kicks the Atlantic Ocean's ass! The water was so blue, clean, and fun that I will have a hard time looking at the east coast beaches the same way. On the flip side though, the SM Pier is a joke. Seaside's boardwalk is still number one.

San Diego

Beautiful, serene, whatevs, San Diego is great. I highly recommend a visit and I never even made it out of the Dowtown/Gaslamp sections. The weather is gorgeous every day, the city is clean, and easily walkable...it was fantastic.

Amtrak

I also recommend Amtrak for traveling between LA and San Diego. For $34 each way, you can relax and take in the view.

Final Thoughts

Do not, will not, want not to ever live in California. I'm very excited to visit the northern part in the next couple of years, though. I have a feeling I might like it up there more.

Please, take care of yourselves...and each other.

CALIFORNIA!

I can't believe I'm finally going!

I'm leaving tomorrow and will be back on the 30th. Lots of pictures and stories to come.

Miss you all!

Don't do anything I wouldn't do*!!







*This doesn't leave much for you NOT to do except:

1. Have sex with a relative.
2. Do anything with Carrot Top (except kill him).
3. Work at DC.
4. Laundry (okay I do it, but I don't like it).

STUPID, STOOPID, STYOOPED.

I did something stupid. It's so stupid that I'm not even going to tell you what it was.

Trust me, it was stupid. What I need to discuss is this:

If I knew this thing was stupid and I would regret doing it, why the fuck did I do it??

This question has then spawned the following questions:

Am I a glutton for punishment?

Do I really need the distraction?

Don't I have enough to be thinking about with work and California?

Am I in such a good place right now that I had to make myself feel bad for no reason?

Am I in such a bad place right now that I had to make myself feel more bad?

Did I really think that my heart was lying to me when I said "Don't do it!"?

Did I really think that this stupid thing would be something I could ignore?

Did I really think I could shake it off?

Do I EVER shake anything off?

Isn't it safe to say that I obsess about everything, wait, let me clarify, obsess about negative things until I am sick to my stomach?

Won't I ever just listen to myself?

You are totally dying to know what I did right?

Why are my emotions so fucking strong all the time, yet I can never say to myself, "Shann, you've been here before and if you read your diary/blog you know you've made it through it once and can most definitely make it through again."?

Why can't I see things for how they really are?

Wait, AM I seeing things for how they really are?

Why is there a bra hanging on every door knob in my apartment?

Why haven't I ever noticed there are 8 door knobs in my apartment? (Actually 11, my closet doors are closed. 12, if you count my front door.)

Why do I have to find stupid negative ways to test myself?

I mean seriously, it's like I dared myself to do this stupid thing. Am I really that bor-ed/ing?

Is that my problem? That instead of testing myself for things that matter to me I push myself to do things that I know will be negative thus confirming my fear of failing or enabling my fear of success?

Or is it simply, maybe I was wrong?

What if?

Am I holding on to false hopes because I refuse to believe I can hope for something false?

If I believe something to be true, how can't it be true?

If something is true for me, but not for you, does that make it true?

Is it like someone seeing the glass half full while I see it as "half empty and I forgot to buy more milk and now can't have cereal in the morning because I ain't putting water in the bowl again and will have to buy breakfast out when I really wanted to stop spending money on food during the week so that I can spend it on beer over the weekend instead."

If you don't think I can keep going, then you don't know me very well.

I'm stopping now because I realized that the above questions are all linked to one question I still haven't answered yet:

Will I ever trust me??

My new favorite show is...

Rock of Love. Hands down.

The chicks on this show are such hardcore, filthy whores that I may wear a full body condom while watching the next episode.

I am torn between rubbing one off or scrubbing my eyeballs.

There aren't many shows that can make me both hot and nauseous. Real Sex did that back in the day, only because one part would be about sexy S&M madams, the next fat hippies masturbating in a circle. Yikes.

Bravo, Bret Michaels. Bravo.

Random Diary Entry: June 24, 1993

Things I want accomplished before my junior year of high school:

I want to weigh around 145 pounds.
I want to have a tan (real or fake).
I want my hair to be healthy and straight (maybe straight).

Things to be accomplished during my junior year:

I want a few boyfriends.
I want straight A's across the board.
I want to do the best I can in cross country and especially in softball.

Things to do before I die:

sky dive
travel
scuba dive
join the FBI
see more movies than anyone in the world
get and keep a great job
get married and have 2 boys and 2 girls
rob a bank or win the lottery

Random Diary Entry: June 24, 1992

Hate

Evil and unruly
Overpowering and untruly
Grasp it and behold
The many people in its fold.

Down and beneath
Growling through its sharp teeth.
Once it has you - watch out!
Leaving is hard without a doubt.

But do not have fear
The exit is very near.
The doorway is just above
And the key is to have love.

Love

Everlasting and forgiving,
Reason for us living.
Painful, yet good
A language that's always understood.

So open your hearts up wide
And go for that joyful ride
Down the streets of love,
With the angels up above.

Kids say the darndest things.

My downstairs neighbor has three granddaughters ages 6, 8, and 9.

They always run around in front of the building, but I didn't formally meet them until this July 4th when we were watching the fireworks on the roof. They're cute kids, very smart and already pretty damn sassy. They make me wonder what it's like to be a kid these days.

I'm doing laundry right now (blah) and as I was coming back in we started chatting. They told me about their families, their smelly witch teacher, and all about their ipods and cell phones. (By the way, I keep saying "they" or "their" because the 8 and 9 year old kept talking at the same time, then over each other, then over me, so I don't really know which sister each story was actually about). The 6 year old, deemed the "white one" by her older Colombian step-sisters, would occasionally say something in a high-pitched voice, but yeah, there was no way I could hear her over the other two.

They eventually got around to asking me a question, specifically which apartment I live in. Here's the convo:

ME: "I live in 4A."

8 yo (I can't remember their names): "All the way up there?!?!"

9 yo (barely breathing between sentences): "What happens if you have a cart full of groceries? Do you carry the whole cart up? Do you carry some bags up at a time? Do you have to come back down?"

ME: "I make sure I only buy what I can carry."

9 yo: "Who do you live with?"

ME: "I live by myself."

8 and/or 9 yo (at the same time and same volume so not really sure who asked what):
"YOULIVEBYYOURSELFYOUDON'TLIVEWITHANYONEYOULIVEALONEALONEYOULIVEALONE??"

ME: "Um, yep."

9 yo: "YOU MEAN YOU AIN'T GOT A HUSBAND OR NO ONE?!?!"

I laughed out loud, though slightly mortified only because she seriously screamed it. The 8 year old then asked if I had any pets so thankfully the subject quickly changed to how many pets they had and yada yada yada...

I bet Bill Cosby's spidey sense tingles whenever a kid says something like that...or at the very least when someone eats jello.

Californication Part 1: Trip Prep

I am leaving for California in 9 days. This is how prepared I am for the trip:

1. I have tickets to San Diego on July 20th, from San Diego on July 29th. I forget what airline.

2. I have Padre tickets for the 20th, Dodgers tickets for the 22nd, and Angels tickets for the 24th which means I need to get from San Diego to LA at some point before the Sunday game.

3. I asked Donovan for tickets to the San Diego Comic Con, which means I need to get from LA back to San Diego at some point before the convention and definitely before my flight home.

Yeah that's about it. I haven't booked a hotel anywhere or made a car reservation. I half read the Frommer's guide to San Diego, but couldn't tell you anything other than I think I'd rather go to Sea World than the SD Zoo.

The general plan is to stay with my brother in Santa Monica for a few days, but we have yet to discuss. A bunch of my Company friends will be in SD for the con, so I'm not too worried about that. I should probably give them the heads up, huh?

I'm gon-na see my bro-ther, I'm gon-na see my bro-ther, I'm gon-na see my bro-ther.
(I'm singing this out loud and moving as if on a congo line.)

Oooo now I'm getting psyched! Yaay Rippie!

I'm in a K-hole.

No ya crackhead, not the K-hole of my late teens/early twenties where the world turns green and the E gets stronger. This is the K-hole of my adult life involving me, my couch, and a bunch of empty Special K cereal bar wrappers on my living room floor. I knew I shouldn't have bought a box!! (Psst, by a "bunch" I mean "two". Stop judging me.)

I had a lovely weekend catching up with half my Petes, eating some good homemade meals (thanks Jules and Spags!), taking pics, and seeing Transformers. Like I wrote before, I didn't really remember the cartoon too much, but man that did not stop me from getting all warm and fuzzy inside. I cheered the first time someone said "more than meets the eye", laughed at all the comic references, and nearly cried when "Bumblebee" and "Bonecrusher" were introduced. Geek!

So this weekend I've come to terms with something. I've been in denial about this for quite awhile, but it's time to come clean.

I am addicted to soft cone ice-cream. Picture this, Astoria 2007:

I'm strolling down Steinway to get some Baskin Robbins.

I see gross men sitting in front of Baskin Robbins.

I reluctantly walk past Baskin Robbins.

I spot an ice cream truck half a block away.

I begin to slightly skip towards ice cream truck with big cheesy smile.

I then get so excited that I start to speed walk towards ice cream truck with money in hand.

I then get about 5 feet from ice cream truck before realizing it was not actually an ice cream truck, but in fact a Con Ed truck.

I stop, put head down (cue Peanuts music), and go home with an ice-cream monkey on my back.

There was no denying the addiction after that. I need help...or at least a Mary's Dairy in the neighborhood so I don't continue to expand. Their ice-cream is low in calories and high in deliciousness.

My day in pictures.

For years I've wanted to take pictures of all the churches in New York City. Why? Not sure. The urge has always been strong, yet I've never followed through with it. Then something interesting happened.

There is a church on my block with two beautiful spires on either side of the steeple. The spire on the far left hand side is the closest to the street corner, I guess that's why it always caught my eye rather than the entire building. Every time I walked by it I'd always think, "Gotta take a picture of this church. Gotta get a picture of the spire." Over two years later I still never took that picture. Unfortunately, I missed my chance.

One night last year I was in the supermarket across the street from the church. A summer storm was brewing and in New York you never really know what to expect. It can pour buckets for 10 minutes or thunder and lightning, but not rain. Well this night was a full on city-monsoon. The streets were flooding, the winds whipping, thunder crashing...it was a great storm.

Then there was a loud crack and crash, like a mini-explosion of some sort. Everyone in the store jumped and ran to the windows, but no one could really see anything. We knew lightning hit something, most people assumed it hit a tree and knocked it down. Of course it didn't. The lightning hit my spire.

I couldn't really see the what was left of the spire until the next day. The whole body of it was knocked off the base. The platform was melted away like candle wax. Charred debris laid in the street and on the church steps. The iron railings were crushed by the falling stone. It was like something out of a movie. Thankfully no one was hurt.

A few days later I took that picture. It obviously doesn't remind me of how beautiful the spire was, instead it reminds me of something better. As impulsive as I am when it comes to oh, everything, for some reason I restrain myself creatively. I've always loved photography, but have been too afraid to just let go.

My spire is a reminder that I'm the only one holding me back, and if I hold back too long, it may be too late. So finally, after all this time I am letting go of the fear and starting one of my dream projects.

Here are a couple of pictures from today. Definitely more to come.

Random Thoughts: Y tu mama tambien

1. My cleavage is awesome when I lay on my side in my navy blue sports bra.

2. I want to put The Soup's Joel McHale in my pocket.

3. I am addicted to band-aids and Neosporin.

4. If the makers of the supposed "pee-in-pool detection ink" ever make a sister product for "pedestrian cropdusting detection", I'd be screwed.

5. My favorite beer is Ommegang.

6. If I had to spend the rest of my life locked in a room with someone I would choose Furball. I can hear him screaming as I type this...

7. I want to caress Scarlet Johanssen. Not kiss, not rub, just caress.

8. Since adults only seem to have Orbit, Dentyne Ice, or Trident-chiclet type gum, I ask for 2 pieces. If I only have one piece, one of the sides of my mouth will get jealous, I'll have to switch it up a lot, the flavor goes away fast, and I stop enjoying it. Gotta go for 2.

9. Cicely is still annoying, but get this, my hips hurt from walking weird all week. I = The Blob.

10. I'm really enjoying Fables and yet haven't read past the second trade. Sorry, Amy. Again.

11. I want to see Transformers this weekend although I can't seem to remember the cartoon that well. Oddly enough when I think really hard at work I make this "ch-ch-chu-chu-chu" noise like when they transform. I have no idea if that's how one types it out.

12. Fireworks were awesome last night. Weather, not so much.

13. Congratulations Schmidt-faces! Their new son Cale is ADORABLE.

14. Thanks for all the nice calls and emails. I know you would be there for me if I needed you to...I guess it's like The Boy Who Cried Wolf. Like if I need you now and it ends up not being a big deal, but then my arms fall off and I REALLY need you, would you still be willing to wipe my tush?

15. ERs are great for putting the fear of death in you. I haven't had a drink in 4 days AND I ate very healthy today. Let's see how I hold up this weekend.

16. My fucking foot fell asleep. Owwww...

Because I am my mother's daughter...

What is a functional ovarian cyst?
An ovarian cyst is a round, thin-walled, clear fluid-filled sac that develops in the ovary as part of normal egg development. When on the ovary's surface, an ovarian cyst looks something like a skin blister. A normal ovarian cyst can grow as large as 1.5 in.(3.8 cm) as it prepares to release an egg into the abdomen (ovulation).

When an ovarian cyst does not release its egg, it continues to grow, becoming larger than normal (functional ovarian cyst). A functional ovarian cyst may also form after an egg is released. In this case, the ovarian cyst reseals itself and swells with fluid. This is called a luteal cyst. Functional ovarian cysts are the most common type of ovarian growth in women of childbearing age.

Like most types of ovarian cysts, functional cysts usually don't cause symptoms and are first noticed during a general pelvic exam. However, a larger ovarian cyst can twist, rupture, or bleed and be very painful. If your health professional has found that you have a functional ovarian cyst, you have no reason to worry about cancer-functional cysts do not lead to cancer. Most functional ovarian cysts go away on their own within a few months and are harmless.

What causes functional ovarian cysts?
A functional ovarian cyst is caused by one or more slight changes in the way the ovary produces or releases an egg. Although unlikely, it is possible to ovulate while taking hormonal birth control pills and, therefore, to be capable of developing a functional ovarian cyst.

What are the symptoms?
Most functional ovarian cysts are harmless, do not cause symptoms, and go away without treatment. However, they can cause symptoms such as:

Lower abdominal pain or ache, typically in the middle of your menstrual cycle.
Menstrual period delay.
Weight gain.
Unexpected vaginal bleeding.

Some functional ovarian cysts can twist or rupture and bleed. Symptoms include:

Sudden severe pain, often with nausea and vomiting (possible sign of a twisted cyst).
Pain immediately after intercourse (possible sign of a ruptured cyst).

If you have symptoms that suggest a twisted or ruptured ovarian cyst, call your health professional immediately. Some ruptured cysts bleed enough that treatment is necessary to prevent heavy blood loss.

How are functional ovarian cysts diagnosed?
If your health professional discovers an ovarian cyst during a routine pelvic exam, he or she may use a pelvic ultrasound to make sure the cyst is fluid-filled (functional), then recommend a watchful waiting period and recheck you after a couple of menstrual cycles. A functional ovarian cyst is likely to go away on its own during this period of time.

How are they treated?
Most functional ovarian cysts go away without treatment within 1 to 3 menstrual cycles. If you have a functional cyst that persists through 2 to 3 menstrual cycles or that causes symptoms, your health professional will probably recommend birth control pills, which stop the ovulation process. Birth control pills should prevent new functional cysts from developing, but they may not speed up the shrinkage of an existing cyst.

Tales from the ER

Before I start, I am okay.

Remember when I wrote how my gyno was a little rough and hurt my ovary? That was the beginning of May and since then I've been in pain every couple of weeks.

On Friday I woke up with awful back pain right near my tailbone. I thought it was probably from dancing to "High School Musical" or pretending to ride a motorcycle in front of my fan (lots of side to side vrooming). I powered through Friday to see "Live Free or Die Hard" (SEE IT!), check out DaQ's new bar, and hang with the Molly's crew.

My back didn't hurt too much on Saturday, but really, who feels anything at the beer garden besides drunk and horny? Sunday was obviously Day o' Gas for me, but I felt better after the dumps. Yesterday was another story.

I woke up with my lower right fupa hurting pretty bad. It was the same sensation as when my gyno poked me, but much worse. I made it through work by walking with a mean pimp limp and occasionally complaining to Furbie. It wasn't until I left the office that it was becoming unbearable; every step made a shooting pain go through the right side of my body and up my spine. Totally sucked.

By the time I made it home I gave up and called my mom. I told her what was happening and wasn't sure what to do. I mean, I knew something was wrong but I think I needed someone to tell me to go to the hospital. She said to call my doctor and see what he thought. He figured it was most likely a cyst, but since the pain was near my appendix told me to go to the emergency room.

I was so upset in the ER. I was crying, some drunk fuck was screaming, people moaning...I don't know how the staff managed to be so nice. I'm sorry but I'll take publishing over that shite any day.

The ER doctor agreed with my regular one, said it was either a cyst or appendicitis. They took blood and urine, did a pelvic exam, ultrasound and ct scan. After 7 hours of tests I have a new friend...Cicely Cyst.

Cicely is a fucking annoying, throbbing 2 centimeter cyst on my right ovary. Since she's so small, the doctors aren't certain Ciss is the real cause of my pain, so there's nothing to do except wait to see if the bitch gets any bigger. It's very common for women to get cysts when they are ovulating so for the next couple of months I need to track my cycle and the pain, if any.

Appendicitis wasn't completely ruled out either though, nor (get this) really, really, REALLY bad gas. You have GOT to be fucking kidding me. Wouldn't it be something if my backwards fart broke something??? Shit fool.

Today I feel okay, don't have to walk like a cross between Snoop and Frankenstein anymore. Ciss (or whatever's doing it) is hurting, but I'm dealing.

A couple parting thoughts:

1. I feel stupid. I'm not sure why, it's not like I caused any of this (except if it's gas). Maybe stupid isn't the word I'm looking for...ignorant? humbled? It's scary to have no fucking clue what's wrong. I'm used to feeling that way mentally and emotionally; maybe I've taken my good physical health for granted too long.

2. I felt so incredibly alone in the ER. I wasn't crying from the pain so much as I was crying from not having anyone with me. And by "anyone" I don't mean my family or friends, I mean a husband.

I had to yell at my mom to NOT come up here last night. I just didn't want to deal with my parents, you know? I even threatened her by saying that if she comes up here I will never, ever tell her when I'm sick again. I'm such a jerk.

And I know that any of my friends would be there at a moment's notice, I just didn't want to bother them. I TOTALLY know it wouldn't be a bother for you, but still, I think it would have bothered me that I could possibly be bothering you...and then I would stress out and feel bad. Must work on that.

So while I had at least 10 people who would have came to be by my side, I chose to be upset that I was single. SINGLE! I started thinking about how if I was married my husband would be there and since he was my husband I wouldn't feel bad about him being there.

Maybe it's the vows? Friends and family never stand before God or Elvis and say they will love each other forever no matter what. Is the idea that friends and family don't need to reassure us they will be there? If so, why would the love of your life have to?

Fuck it. Here's a good way to end a long ass post and even longer fucking day:

"I, Shannon, take you, Everyone Who Reads Thighsighs (and my parents), for my lawful friends and family, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part."

PS Yes, my name is Shannon.
PPS FUPA stands for "fat upper pussy area". Thank MJ for that one!