I knew this would happen. Pop
up holiday event for a client
who wanted a rock n'roll theme.
Custom built entrance trellis,
rock idol step & repeats, custom
guitar bar, drumsticks as center
pieces.
My department did a $25 limit Secret Santa holiday party today. My belly is full.
Here's how Secret Santa is supposed to work, people.
You write down something that you want that costs under $25 and place it in a box with a pile of other ballots. The person who pulls your slip has to get your wish for you. I couldn't come up with anything I needed so I wrote "hygiene kits for the homeless" and underneath that, I listed various items for the kits like toilet tissue, toothpaste, etc. I was hoping my Secret Santa would find it kind of fun to choose what they wanted to go in the kits. Maybe they'd even want to do it again on their own.
Unfortunately, my Secret Santa turned out to be Sandra, a 64 year old hoochie mama who thinks she's still 25, aka the laziest receptionist in the universe. Instead of doing any of that, she just gave me $25 in cash.
Sigh.
I've donated most of my shoes but I still have one very full closet to go. I've been using this free instant sale app called Wallapop. Basically you take a photo of the item you're selling, the first person who responds wins, and you meet them somewhere for the sale. It's a pretty swanky app, really. Just time consuming. So let's try this... I have 4 pairs of almost new shoes available, size US 6.5 regular. Each pair is free to a good home as long as you (1) take care of it, and (2) will actually wear it. If you're in the US, I'll ship them for free. If you live halfway around the damn world, you'll have to spring for shipping.
Unless you live in Japan, in which case we can arrange to meet somewhere.
I found him hiding under the impatiens in the backyard after work today. I don't know what he is, but isn't he beautiful? It's hard to make out in the video, but it looks like he's wearing iridescent wrought iron wings.
Rewatching the video, I love how it looks like his little legs are pushing my hand open. He was all, "Back up off me, bitch. I can't breathe."
And eww, this video reminds me to make a public service announcement: Don't bother buying the new DIY nail gel colors. They're supposed to last for 2 weeks like the salon treatment with the UV light, but they start chipping away the very next day. Seriously, just get them done at a salon.
My sister made this meme of
my mom and posted it for
every relative in the
universe. She thinks
it's funny. I think imma
punch her in the face.
Okay, ladies. The boys are distracted for a bit. Let's talk real talk.
Let's talk about period blood flow. Does your period ever flake out on you? This month, mine came a full week late. Further proof that my mother was actually right, and that my eggs really are drying up. Which means I need to pop some grandkids out within the next couple of years.
And here's another question... On the 2nd night (which is, as you know, the worst night, right?) I got home really late from work. I ate some popcorn, took a shower and passed out in my bath towel. I literally could not wake myself up enough to get up and put on a pad. I actually mumbled, "Oh, PLEASE don't mess up these sheets. I love these sheets.... ZZzzzzzzzz..."
Guess what...I woke up the next morning and...nothing.
So what does this mean, leadies? Is it physiological? Is period flow a mind-over-matter thing? Omg.
Oh, speaking of controlling our bodily functions, there's this new app called RunPee.
So you know how you go to the movies and right when the good part is starting, you have to go pee? It's a big fiasco. Well there's this sweet new app called RunPee. This app is badass, ladies. You tell the app what movie you're watching, the app syncs with the movie and then tells you the best times to go pee. Omg, right??
I supposed I could've shared the RunPee tip with the guys, but...honestly, screw the guys. They pee standing up.
Next thing: Two years ago my friends paid a male dancer to pull me on stage for my birthday. I was pissed at them - mostly humiliated that they paid for it, and he poured hot wax on me after I told him not to. I learned after that there's a special wax for kinky stuff...this wasn't it. My chest was red and sore for a while after. So I kinda lashed out at him by calling him a name. As mentioned in a previous post, I saw him again last year, and he definitely remembered me.
I saw him again two days ago at this snobby neighborhood supermarket that I usually stay away from. The customers are really snobby. Even the cashiers have attitudes. But it's the only place that sells my favorite bottle of moscato. Apparently, he lives in the neighborhood. And for whatever reason still remembers that I called him a name. Is that odd, or am I wrong? He must get insulted at least once in a while on the job.
I mean...he is short. He's like 2'4". Okay, not really.
So I apologized with more humility this time and explained that I was really angry with my friends and took my anger out on him.
Missin' N'awlins.
Then he went into this whole rant about how his new girlfriend is twice as hot as me and how she knows how "f*ckin' big" he really is.
I was standing behind him in the check out line while he continued his rampage. I was so confused. I think I might have dropped my shopping basket. lol
*shrug*
So now I feel even worse. I feel bad for calling him a name, which was childish and careless, and then for getting him all riled up again the other day. Should I have left it alone?
Speaking of strippers. ladies...Magic Mike XXL.
Two words.
Cheetos. And water.
You're welcome.
Illegal in-movie recording. #loveit
Yeah, I've seen it twice. Jealous?
If you're in the metro Detroit area, there's a new shoe store in Madison Heights that sells pretty pumps for...TEN DOLLARS!! Omg. I still managed to spend $82 there. They have men's shoes, too. I'd tell the guys but...screw the guys. They pee standing up.
Next question. Why do we have to work harder than men to be acknowledged at work? I mean REAL acknowledgement. Like pay raises or inclusion.I have 5 huge projects happening right now that I'm solely responsible for. I'm planning/executing every facet of:
employee talent show (next week)
employee lunch with the CEO (tomorrow)
employee health fair w/26 vendors (two weeks)
managers' yacht cruise for 200 managers and +1s (Monday)
...I can't even remember what else atm
All of this involves all sorts of communication, branding, posting, phone calls, triple counts, and don't even get me started on the yacht fiasco.
The only cool thing about not having time for friends is that my phone stays charged for days. Waking up to a phone on an almost full battery when you didn't charge it is like a small little win for the day. Sigh.
A coworker in another department and I report to the same exec. He's constantly in the exec's face. He'll resolve some little issue, like helping an employee fix something, and he'll spend hours in the exec's office bragging about what he did. He interrupts my meetings with the exec, he sits down at our lunch table and talks about his day. It's really obvious, and I'm not sure why the exec puts up with it.
Other than because he's a guy?
Seriously. If we did that - stalked our bosses and complained about our days - we'd be seen as whiny, moody, high-maintenance.
But my coworker? In the past year, he's received a raise, an employee recognition and a promotion.
Double standard, ladies. Seriously. Wtf.
A guy I use to be interested in had a girlfriend all along. How'd I find out? Cause I'm a stalker.
SMH. He was lying the whole time.
Well, he's a guy. So...yeah.
I can't stand my BFF's boyfriend. He's cheated on her numerous times. All of his friends are fully aware of his shenanigans. And he's sort of blatant about it.
Exhibit A
Boyfriend has a motorcycle accident and is taken to the hospital. One friend contacts my BFF, unaware that another friend has contacted the other girlfriend. Both show up at the hospital, and fireworks ensue. Boyfriend pleads with BFF to take him back, and - to my befuddlement - she does.
BFF and boyfriend go on vacay, and BFF complains to me that boyfriend texts someone else the whole time. And he only posts pictures of himself or with other tourists - not with her. Turns out he was texting the other girlfriend the whole trip and adding that he was on vacation with his buddies...not the BFF.
Exhibit C
He's been in and out of jail, he's in a gang, He has way too many guns - all illegal. He has a stupid temper.
I can't stand him. And she's well aware of that fact. She knows I want to twist his testicles into balloon animals. So she keeps us separate. Which sucks because I lose my best friend for a lot of the time.
I don't care that he's 6'2" or brags about his auto-whatever guns. I'm not afraid of him, and it only takes one second for me to go from 0 to 60 when I'm in protective mode. I'd like to say I stole that trait from my Father, but alas, it's all my mother's. She's like a little chihuahua.
But it's the BFF's life. Not mine. It's her fate to make.
Yesterday at lunch, I asked her for the hundredth time to help me understand why an insanely beautiful, strong willed, independent, smart woman like her would ever want to be bothered with this clown.
And then she gave me "the look". It's the look she gives me when she has to explain something about the world to me. Finally, she got all exasperated and said, "...because he has a big d*ck."
He gives me this really warm greeting when we pass. He greets me like I rescued his mother from a burning building. His whole demeanor changes, By the time we've passed each other, it feels like he just gave me a big hug.
No, it isn't the flirty look. The "I'm imagining you naked" look guys do when they see a random woman under the age of 50.
Nope, this is more like the look your grandmother gave you when you graduated from high school. It's hard to describe, but it's definitely a "Hello, Mia...I'm so glad for what you've done for me" greeting.
I only realized it this week. But he's been doing it for a while. I watched him discreetly today in the lunchroom. He mostly only greeted the people in his department, but from what I could see, they were just greetings. Like normal people. I cut through the tables to greet him on my way to put up my tray, and he actually put his fork down and again greeted me like I'm a long lost family member, and like he was just wasting time eating until he could greet me.
So I'm trying to think back to something we could have both been involved in. Maybe a community outreach thing. Or maybe I let him jump in front of me on the freeway. Idk. But it's driving me crazy. It's kind of uncomfortable to get a "thank you so much for waking up this morning and gracing me with your presence" greeting from a guy I don't remember doing anything for.
Idk. I'm dying to ask him what's up, but I'm afraid of the answer. It'll either be, "Well, you saved me my life...don't you remember?", or "Um...what look? Are you crazy? Psycho."
Headed to see Magic Mike XXL with the ladies. I'll see all you ladies there lol
Hey, here's how to go from "worker bee" to "night owl" in 5 minutes:
Replace suit jacket with cropped bolero or clingy jacket.
Remove pantyhose.
Replace work pumps with T-strap peep toes.
Unwind twisted hair bun and scrunch until hair is really foofy.
Not feeling particularly inspired to share my thoughts today, so I'll keep it clinical.
My company's employee recognition awards went really well.
Inspiration
The CEO skipped an entire section of my script. Fortunately, no one noticed. Unfortunately, the missing part was the servers' cue to parade out with the salads. So I had a full line of servers standing rather uncomfortably with heavy trays of Waldorf salads and heavy utensils resting on their shoulders, waiting for a cue that never came. Small fiasco, but that was it. The open bar was popular. Lots of selfies around the "Oscar" statue and focal points. People wanted to take their stars home with them. I hadn't considered that, so I'd thrown away the backings. The brave people chanced it and peeled the stars up from the floor and gingerly placed them in the their trunks, hoping they didn't stick to anything. I was particularly worried about the slideshow that on-clicked each employee's name onto the screen.
The CEO thanked me by name during his closing remarks. I'm not bragging, I just didn't think he knew I existed considering how I have to fight him to speak to me every morning. I got invited for drinks with the execs afterward. Unprecedented and scary. So I wasted time as much time as possible debating about it.
The "old Hollywood" theme worked really well. I don't have photos of the decor's effect once the lighting and candles were in place, but our photographer did an awesome job of capturing everything. It really was beautiful. I'm especially proud that I stood up to the decor vendor this time. I meet with him with clear goals, concept design and a budget. He spends the entire meeting talking over me and hinting that I don't know what I'm talking about. He wouldn't even stop by to see the room once the vendors left, or answer my calls. After the event (and the CEO's public "thank you"), he was suddenly Mr. Friendly. He went from walking away at the shrimp cocktail station when I approached him to ask about a purchase order to following me around like a puppy dog and inserting himself into whatever conversations I was having with others, But I gave him no quarter for debate this time, and worked with a new decor vendor I wanted to try. And they were amazeballs. And it was about $7k cheaper, including gold-tipped roses and bedazzled rose corsages & boutonnieres for the 74 honorees. The honorees also got $1000 each and $125 gift bags.
So back to the bar thing. I limped my way down to the bar (my feet were killing me) and kind of just stood behind the tables of execs, trying to decode all the inside jokes and roastings, being mostly ignored. I was annoyed and tired and hungry (and my elbow was sore from leaning against the backs of their chairs), so I limped out to my car and finally home.
I'm glad it's over, but we have another smaller employee event next week, and then California/ Washington/ Canada at the end of next week.
Today's a paid holiday for Amurrkan peeps. MLK Day, fools!
Been oot and aboot with Canadian bestie Shilah.
Why do Canadians like to wake up so early? I think its the free health care.
And their general refusal to answer the phone when their girlfriends call from overseas in the aftermath of a damn quake and are desperately trying to reach them to hear someone they actually recognize and speaks English but they don't answer because they're busy looking for their next victim...
Floor length skirts make you look amazingly thin. BUT you can't wear a layer over it, like a jacket or belt.
If you didn't know this, ladies, you're welcome.
If you did know but didn't tell me, I will murderize you.
FRIDAY
I checked out The Boy Next Door tonight with the bff. I didn't expect much, considering JLo's last big film was the horrible Enough, but The Boy Next Door was actually really good. I don't know who the guy is that plays the guy next door, but he was effectively hot and menacing. He is a beautiful man. The sex scene was omg. And the audience agreed. The best part about seeing new movies like this with an audience full of women is the constant cat calls. The second best part is that the few unfortunate men in the audience have to suffer through the women offering lude suggestions to the people on the screen.
Right now, I'm sitting on a sofa away from the madness at V. I'll be honest. If we weren't in a sectioned off area, and I didn't promise to enjoy a glass this wine, I would've been outta here a long time ago.
For the record, there's a car alarm going off in the distance. It's my fault. I kinda set it off. And my bunny slippers are wet and I just slid across my kitchen floor. Cuz I ran through a snow bank while fleeing the scene of a crime. Long story.
Icicle bunnies!
Marvella was my best friend when we first moved to the states. She lived a few houses down, and we would walk to school together. Marvella's mom would section her hair into these high-up-top pigtails. Her hair was short, so the ponytails looked like little puffy cotton balls. So I called her "Puffy".
She was the only schoolmate who wouldn't make fun of my bowl haircut, or my choppy English, or that I would wear the same shoes all year. She's the only schoolmate my father would let visit (not that anyone else asked to), and we could sit on the porch and play if all my chores or piano or ballet or skating or whatever was finished. I was so happy for her company but sometimes wondered why she spent so much time away from home. In retrospect, I think her home life wasn't the greatest and she just wanted to be away from it.
Whoa. Flashback. I had to get the bowl haircut because the school bully...what was her name...bah! I can't remember... Anyway, her minions held me down while she chopped off my braid. So I had to get the stupid haircut. Which made it worse because I became the "fly lice chink".
That's crazy!
Okay, so Marvella. She had this constant compulsion to remove a person's nail polish using her fingernail. She would cradle your hand in her lap and painstakingly, patiently lodge her fingernail between the layers of polish and your nail bed, and get the polish off that way. This required intense concentration. She would lift your hand and study the layers of polish, determine the best angle to begin. She barely paid attention to what I was saying when she was in "nail polish mode". And if she was able to get the entire bed of polish off in one piece, she brightened with satisfaction and pride.
I mention this to offer that I'm not the only crazy person out here.
So I don't know if it's because of the twenty seven polar vortexes we've had in the last two damn months, or if this is testament to my layered brand of insanity, or if I can assign complete blame to my old friend Marvella... but I've become completely obsessed with the piles of snow that gather behind the tires on cars and trucks. Namely, I'm preoccupied with kicking the piles of snow off.
If the temperature is closer to above freezing, the pile is all slushy and not satisfying at all when I kick it because it just sort of slops to the ground like a slurpee. But if it's maybe 20 or below, the snow pile is packed and sturdy. And a good kick will knock it off in one piece. And then it sits there in a mold of the car's bumper and the car is finally free of the dirty pile of snow. Yay! It's the weirdest release.
The act of dislodging a stockpile of snow with my foot gives me Marvella-ish contentment.
I'm constantly tempted.
As in...not paying attention to traffic because I'm staring at the stockpile on the car next to me.
As in...glancing around to see if anyone's looking before kicking a stockpile in a shopping mall parking lot.
Yep. Definitely my own brand of crazy.
I stare longingly at cars I pass on the road, and will comment as appropriate for a married man at the Playboy Mansion...
"Oh, look at those babies."
"Now that is a thing of beauty."
"I'd like to get my foot all up in that!"
Wait, what?
Hey. You have obsessions, too. Don't even give me that look.
I walked over to check on/harass my neighbor a while ago. I headed home (just now) thinking about blogging with nothing to blog about, and happened to take a gander at the snow pile on my neighbor's car. And I saw it...
...the most GLORIOUS snow pile ever created!!! [echo]...
So of course I just had to walk back across the street and to her car, brace myself against the side view mirror thingy, and kick the pile.
And set off her car alarm. lol
I just ran home through the park. In my pajamas. And tripped into a pile of snow.
Okay, I had to stop typing for a sec. Still laughing. I'm a horrible person.
She's probably looking for her keys.
The pizza guy who delivered pizzas to the audience at the Oscars on Sunday. Or the Emmys. Whatever it was. That was AWEsome. Edgar. How was he so calm? Where is this specimen? I will marry it now.
I wonder if he's a Trekkie.
While we're on awards, can Lupita Nyongo ever NOT be poised perfection? Every time I see her, I weep with jealousy over her beauty and those badass gowns I couldn't even pretend to wear.
Oh, to be a hanger
in that closet.
That robin's egg blue gown she rocked on Sunday was heavenly. But the red Ralph Lauren cape gown she wore a few months ago? OMG. I weep. How can you not? It's a thing of beauty.
She can dress her ass off. And she has silky smooth skin. AND she has zero fat on her body. That bitch.
For Iram: New store at Oakland Mall called "Manic" that sells a better quality. The white ones in the collage here...
Are below-knee versions of the ones I wore here:
Seriously, I had to leave before I bought something. Don't ever make me do that again.
Robot got a girlfriend for XMas. Did I mention that already?
I had this overwhelming need to do something selfish and primal and unplanned and unwise and not like me. It is apparently my body's new, grown up response to unnecessary stress. My body basically said, "oh yeah? Well, back at ya, bitch".
RoboPlaya!
I know this is all cryptic and scifi-ish. I confessed it in detail to a friend. Okay, really, it was more like whining about it. But my friend's indifference pushed me off the fence of humility and personal accountability and modesty and onto the lawn of narcissism and decadence.
That's not true. I can't blame one person's indifference for my life decisions. Ultimately, I did it because I wanted to. I wanted to be someone else for a change.
His indifference was the bird that landed on my head as I was trying to balance the fence that caused me to topple onto the lawn of narcissism and decadence.
Analogy much?
It could've ended badly. Really badly. Like...dead bad. I've never done anything like that before, and would have never made that kind of snap decision about something so serious.
Robot agrees.
But it ended up being the best, most selfish thing I've ever done.
I feel like a different person. Or renewed. Or something. Like a soap opera villain.
It feels like I yanked that last part in me that was a girl, and became this me.
Sorry, boys. This post is for us. Yes, I know this blog only has three female visitors. One's my mother...only because she keeps accidentally making it her homepage. And the other two are old friends from Miami.
But, dammit...I could have a random visitor. I could! And maybe she'll stop by to get my opinion on something. Like about lipstick or spiders.
Also, I think I blogged about some of this stuff already.
Whatever. Shut up.
Payless Shoe Store has a low budget version of the Louboutin shoe. (Gents: "the Louboutin shoe" is that trademark shoe style/shape with the platform and the rounded cleavage toe and the skinny heel. Like this. And like the ones in the collage on the left. And my ones in the video from the auto show. Okay, they're the same ones from the collage, but Ooh! Sparkly!)
So check it. The regular Lous cost around $1200 ($700 on eBay). I found these babies for $25 in Payless. Seriously. Oh, yeah. So, obviously they won't last for longer than the one night, but, still, a reasonable trade. Don't you think?
Oh, snap, ladies! Just checked Payless' site. They're on clearance for $15!
I attended the National Go Red for Women conference at MGM Grand in Detroit last week. I'm a huge advocate of women's heart health after a run-in or two with the issue myself.
Rosie O'Donnell was the guest speaker. I became a huge fan that day. She shared her story about her recent massive heart attack and how she ignored her symptoms for days. Days! She infused the story with humor an sarcasm. It wasn't preachy. While everyone stood and applauded, I stayed seated and let my brain process as much of her lesson as possible. And as she announced she was donating her cost for being the spokesperson back to the American Heart Association, I was already mentally checking off what I'm doing wrong.
We have a blood pressure machine outside of our office. I check it once a week. (Why not? It's free and right there.) I'm always in normal range...118/something? today. But I'm often lethargic, even with enough sleep.
You really need to be aware of your heart health, ladies. "Silent killer" isn't just a catch phrase. My grandmother died alone while I was at work because of it. I've suffered from it. Women take care of everyone around you. Well, okay not me. But women with children and spouses and jobs and craziness. Imagine what that does to your stress level.
You could start small. Most Amurrkan department stores and pharmacies have those free blood pressure machines now. And it looks like Canadian stores have it, too. Stress-free. Takes 2 minutes. No doctor there to yell at you. The reading scale should be posted somewhere near the machine. Try it on your next trip, tell me how it works out.
I'm creating a new blog for ladies who proudly wear briefs (aka "granny panties"). Here's the thing. Guys are stupid. They either don't notice, or don't care that when we wear thongs, we don't actually like them. We're pretending. Or we're attention whores who were never liked in high school. Thongs are uncomfortable. They're stupid visual aids designed by men because they lack the imagination and aptitude for basic anatomy.
They're the pop-up book of underwear.
The blog will be an open forum for us to post our normal, actual, comfortable underwear and proudly proclaim this freedom to the world.
Listen. The sooner you check your man's attitude about it, the better.
Truffle Tease
I am LOVING Maybelline's new Color Sensational line!! Finally, there's a true-to-color nude lipstick that doesn't feel like cardboard on your lips. And it stays on for a while. Four hours or so.
CVS Pharmacy, ladies. $8.50 (possibly less with coupons).
Y/T tutorials don't mention that a finished smokey eye on monolids takes like a full hour to do. Whatever you do, do NOT follow the tuts that tell you to use pencil liners. It doesn't work. Trust me! The oil from the shadow bleeds into the pencil color and it starts to smear.
Also, pluck/tweeze/wax your brow line first. Smokey and bushy brows don't work. At least, that's my opinion. But I'm behind the trend. I think the 80's brow thing is coming back. Jennifer Lopez has been wearing the look lately.
Definitely use liquid liner only (doesn't need to be the expensive stuff...Elf will work just fine). And SWEET GEEUS definitely take your time. And absolutely do experiment. I used this tut to practice, but the darker colors left me looking like a raccoon. Don't feel stuck to specific colors. Try ones that match your skin tone and mood.
Why hire professionals to do your home maintenance stuff when you have Lowe's and YouTube? I've done dry walling, tiling, wall cabinet & curved shower rod installation, shower head replacement, regrouting, and some other stuff I can't remember so far. All with the help of Lowe's and YouTube.
You don't need a dude or a class, ladies. Don't be a baby. If you can shove a screaming, clawed mutant alien out of your womb, you can hammer a damn nail.
The plus side of being a woman DIYer is that Lowe's employees are extremely attentive and sympathetic to our plight. They'll patiently walk you through every step of the project, escort you from aisle to aisle, explaining what items you'll need, which works better, which is the better bargain. They'll even talk super slow during those moments when you're so obviously clueless.
The downside of being a woman DIYer is that contractors don't take you seriously. I'm leaving my hardwood floor project to the professionals. It's way too complicated for me. I've left at least two voicemails for five companies. None of them have responded. Empire Carpet came by, measured, gave me an astronomical quote, I told him, "Ain't nobody got time fo dat", he called the next day with a lower price. Still astronomical, but what are my choices, really?
Took three hours longer to get almost home than normal after work last night. I'll go back to the "almost" in a moment. With the whole span of I96 closed, rush hour has become a fiasco. Couple the fact that everyone is cramming into the remaining eastbound/westbound expressways with the recent snow and ice extravaganza, and arriving anywhere on time...let alone in one piece...is completely a matter of chance.
I've been really fortunate. I've never had snow tires, so the simple act of stopping at a red light and starting again turns my car into a carnival ride.
What's the name of that one old skool circular roller coaster one that goes on the continuous loop?
Okay, I just spent 25 minutes looking for the ride. The closest I found was this one. It was sort of like this one, but it was two to a car, and the back part was inside a tunnel. And it didn't look this nice. It was rickety and the safety was questionable. And there were wall speakers at the entrance to the tunnel part that almost hit your head.
Dangit. What was the name of the ride?? Ice-something. Snow-something. OMG.
Well, that analogy's ruined. Anyway, its bad out. I'm a careful driver, but I still slid into a bank or two.
Back to the "almost" part. I got sideswiped by a guy who ran a red light. It wasn't the snow. He was going too fast the way people do in perfect weather, and assumed everyone else was as awesome a driver as he is, and could stop mid-intersection and politely wait for him to speed through. He assumed everyone has snow tires. I don't. So I can't do the polite stop and yell. I was at about 5 mph. He hit me at about 32mph. He knocked my car onto the corner/curb of a gas station. He got out and ran off. That's happening a lot more these days. Same thing happened to my coworker.
Anyway, I took pictures, caught a cold, got a few indecent offers from drivers, gave the police my information, went home, took a bath. Today, I found out that the driver was drunk and had a small amount of meth in the car. I felt bad that the accident made an unbearable drive home even worse for most of the drivers. I wonder if it would've been better to move my car, since I already had pictures.
I'm not injured. The car has a small ding. No big deal. All drama. No trauma.
I nabbed a ticket to the NAIAS Charity Preview tonight. It was fantastic. I had planned to take my grandmother to this one. We use watch the live show. We drooled over the beautiful gowns and watched the rich people drink champagne. I wanted to splurge on the tickets just to see her be one of those people for a change.
Wore my sister's birthday gift, but the boots weren't far away!
Sooo ...earlier today at lunch. What kind of chicken IS this?? I don't even know what PART of the chicken this is. The lunch room sign said "grilled chicken". The other side LOOKS like a small thigh. I think it's a pigeon. I'm so confused!!
I so LOVE this chick. Even though she's blonde and blue eyed with big boobs and all the stuff I typically hiss at, she packs a mean punch.
I was going to post a similar rant about A & F after I walked in and it felt like I'd interrupted the cool kids in class plotting against the nerds, but she sums it up WAY better.
Tell it, sistah!
Best part: "America is...frickin...well, yeah, we're fat, but we're fierce!"
Two chicks practically dry-humping the Adam Levine poster for his clothing line in KMart. KMart, btw, like a madhouse.
So Adam Levine. Sexiest man of 2013. Well, he's definitely dreamy in that "drummer downstairs who only dates supermodels" sort of way. But sexiest man alive? Might be stretching it. He seems very charming. Maybe that's why.
I've changed the blog photo on the right column of this blog. The original photo was me at my 2nd birthday party with cake all over my face, and a lollipop. A visitor informed me that the photo was sexually suggestive.
I don't even know what to say to that.
But I removed it.
It's now a random video of me whining about the freezing water like a crazy person near my parents' home. Grown up. I'll find something goofier when I have more time.
Bey's new album dropped this weekend. Pretty slick not leaking it. The fact that she not only finished the album, but had help from some seriously talented performers and finished all the videos on the low shows just how well-kept a secret it was.
She made $8 gazillion in the first few hours, which includes my $16. Some are better than others, but they're all really, really good. 14,000 five-star reviews can't be wrong. Even haters can't deny that.
My favorite so far is "Haunted". The song has a smooth groove, and the video pays homage to Madonna's "Justify my Love" era.
First of the three employee parties starts tomorrow. I start at 7am so I can meet up with the décor company and Santa & his crew. And hopefully avert any fiascos. I already foresee one with employees redistributing/selling tickets. I'll have security with me, though...so BOUNCE, FOOLS!
The second employee party is on Wednesday, but the big one happens on Thursday. That's the one that makes me nervous. There's a moment where the mood has to shift from "romantic dinner" to "New York nightclub", and if the lighting and the queue and the two DJs on the screens doesn't all happen at the exact same moment....I'm doomed.
Saw this stunning crazy beautiful dress last week and stood there staring at it for maybe five minutes before the sales lady laughed at me and asked if I wanted a glass of water. I think I cried. It's so beautiful. I could never afford it. But I would absolutely consider selling a limb for it.
My new coworkers and I have decided that our shoe shopping obsession correlates directly to a specific point in our menstrual cycles. It actually makes sense! We're calling it "shoe rage".
Check it. One week after, we're obsessed with shoes for 2-3 days. We can't turn a good shoe deal down. And our taste differs during different cycle periods. If its during "shoe rage", you'll choose higher heels and sexier styles. There's another point a few days before ovulation begins. We didn't name that one, so I'll call it The Cool Down. You're only interested in flats and babydolls during TCD.
So, how 'bout this hypothesis-ness...the Luteal phase (i.e., "Shoe Rage") happens after menstruation. We ("we" = our girly parts) know that we didn't get pregnant, so we start the whole cycle again. The sexy heels are our unconscious attempt to make ourselves more visually pleasing (I also wear more makeup!), thereby luring our victims into impregnating us.
During the Follicular phase (or "The Cool Down", as the cool kids call it), our bodies get all hyped up and snobby and all, "Aww, yeah! There's about to be a baby all up in here!", so the desire for attractive stuff goes way down. We want comfortable clothes because, well, pffh!...by then, we've already nabbed our victim.
It's kinda gross, but BLAM! *throws the microphone down and walks off the stage*
Another huge earthquake on the eastern edge of Japan today (tomorrow?). My grandparents' home was right in the center of that (Fukushima), but it was an old style home built in the early 1900's, and it was wiped away with the tsunami. Which is when my grandmother came to live here.
I really wanted to help improve her quality of life. I wanted her to be happy.
I'm getting sad. Back on track, I really wish my family would keep me in the loop more. Thank you, Chris, for having a strange obsession with all things Japanese and letting me know about the quake.
Stretching the shoes, day two. Nothing sexier than some chick in a track suit and platform shoes. Hopefully, they'll be ready to wear to the casino with the ladies tomorrow.
Okay so I'm sitting on the couch eating Froot Loops and trying to break in my new shoes and watching The Voice reruns on E! right now. Why am I crying after each audition? lol I'm not sad or anything.
Stupid girl stuff.
How come guys don't go through this stuff? It's not fair. Men are responsible for all kinds of mayhem. Like world wars and heartache and boob implants.
PS: This chick can sing her ass off. I would totally buy a ticket to her concert right now.
I've donated most of my shoes but I still have one very full closet to go. I've been using this free instant sale app called Wallapop. Basically you take a photo of the item you're selling, the first person who responds wins, and you meet them somewhere for the sale. It's a pretty swanky app, really. Just time consuming. So let's try this... I have 4 pairs of almost new shoes available, size US 6.5 regular. Each pair is free to a good home as long as you (1) take care of it, and (2) will actually wear it. If you're in the US, I'll ship them for free. If you live halfway around the damn world, you'll have to spring for shipping.
I've donated most of my shoes but I still have one very full closet to go. I've been using this free instant sale app called Wallapop. Basically you take a photo of the item you're selling, the first person who responds wins, and you meet them somewhere for the sale. It's a pretty swanky app, really. Just time consuming. So let's try this... I have 4 pairs of almost new shoes available, size US 6.5 regular. Each pair is free to a good home as long as you (1) take care of it, and (2) will actually wear it. If you're in the US, I'll ship them for free. If you live halfway around the damn world, you'll have to spring for shipping.
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.jpg)
