Rollin'

Remember these???

I think it might be time for another childhood anecdote ya’ll!

First off, you know how it is the job of children to try and kill themselves? Well as a wee one, I was very very serious about my career.

When I was about 6 or 7, my neighbor’s teenage son built a halfpipe. Do you know what a halfpipe is? You should. We all grew up in the 90s friends. It’s that absolutely terrifying wooden structure that total psychotic skateboarders use to try and get to the afterlife.

Well I thought this halfpipe next door looked SUPER neat. And even though I was little, I was not stupid. I knew I would absolutely never get permission to go on the thing. So I took my Little Tike velcro roller skates (you know the kind you put on ovvvvver your shoes??) to the neighbor’s, climbed the ladder to one ledge of the halfpipe, and strapped those skates on.

I know what you’re thinking. But this has a happy ending!! I’m writing this story on the internets for your enjoyment and I am using alllll my limbs and digits in the process. Toe typing. Get into it.

Anyways, about 2.5 inches into my downhill journey, I tipped Starboard and slid alll the way down and slightly up the other side on my right ankle-calf-hip-side-armpit.

I stood right up and took inventory. I still had both skates. And I was definitely alive. However, I had been transformed into a 6 year-old-sized, walking, humanoid splinter. It was hard to tell where I ended and the splinters began.

I began the 400 yard pilgrimage home and all I could think was “Goddammit. They are never gonna let me skate again.” Seriously, I was not yet conscious of the pain. But I walked through the front door, and I saw my mom, and my mom looked at me, and the look on her face said “Holy shit kid. That looks remarkably painful. I’m not sure how to proceed here”.

And that’s when I decided to cry. A lot.

Pensive

We all have it. That stuff in our house/apartment/car/barn/tent (I don’t know where you people live, you could be on the internet at the library or some rich person’s basement you’re squatting in for all I know) with a mysterious origin. Sometimes it’s clothing, or a hair thing, maybe even a rogue flip flop or bag of Doritos.


But I just found something on my desk I’d like to discuss: a “Black Licorice” scented pen.

I took this picture like 30 seconds ago.
That is my hand, and that is the pen.

Where the hell did this thing come from??


There are so many questions.

1. It still smells potent, which means I came to possess it somewhat recently. But how can that be? I’m almost 26 years old and I barely write with pens anymore... Do you guys write things down? I feel like I just don’t. It’s sort of sad. Don’t you miss writing? This took a weird turn.
2. The packaging says it was “Made form 100% Recylced Newspapers and Biodegradable Plastic”. That’s cool, I guess. But why? And why black licorice??
3. Can’t we all just agree that black licorice is disgusting and horrible already? Someone just destroy all the goddamn black licorice Jelly Belly Jelly Beans and do the world a service (please please don’t sue me Jelly Belly Corporation, I absolutely adore the watermelon flavor.)!
4. What executives were sitting around at the pen factory and said out-loud to other executives, “You know what phase I wasn’t really done with? Scented pens. America didn’t give scented pens the chance they deserved. That changes today!” ???
5. What should I rub it in first to try and make the smell go away? Dirt? Wet grass?
6. Did anyone out there lose a scented pen?

How to Conquer a Mental Breakdown

Picture me strutting my stuff. You're welcome.

Some helpful steps to avoid the consequences of really letting your mind go to that place where it probably shouldn’t go. Consequences such as: jail, the psych ward, ugly tattoos, and, God forbid, unwanted children.

1. Shopping. Okay so probably not the “healthiest” option per se, but honestly, is there anything more calming than a mission out into the real world to find the perfect... cell phone cover? Nail file? Coaster set? It really doesn’t have to be a necessity. In fact, sometimes, the more trivial the better (I’m looking at you rear-view mirror ornament)!

2. Vitamin D. More healthy, but in moderation. Sounds cliche but, come onnnnnn, who doesn’t like sunshine?!? Okay, vampires is a fair point. But I’m assuming my readership doesn’t have a huge vampire component. Just in case though: Hayyyyyyyyyyy vampires! I’m a big fan of your work! Comment me if you want to have some True Blood-style sexy fun time in a big pool of blood!

3. Baking. And yes, I’m larger than the average bear, but who cares?? If you have to choose between Googling “Molotov cocktail” and the potential ramifications of mass murder/maiming and chocolate/white chocolate/espresso cookies, I think the caloric choice is the better one every time.

4. Selecting a home improvement project. Notice I didn’t say you necessarily need to complete said project. But how fun is it to surf the internets and cutesie blogs about stuff you can “easily” do to “revamp” your digs?? Plus, this often necessitates a trip to Home Depot, which, while it seems like I’m backtracking to suggestion #1, really brings us to...

5. Being the hottest person in Home Depot. Okay, so maybe this doesn’t work so well for dudes. Sorry dudes (but seriously, if you’re a dude reading my blog, get a life! Shouldn’t you be watching football or revving your engine or something?? Gross.). The sheer volume and force of positive feedback that washes over you as your shiny ponytail bounces down the absurdly wide aisles is enough to turn any frown upside-down. Plus I read that orange is a cheerful color or someshit.

So now if you’ll excuse me I need to run to the store. I just took some cookies out of the oven and I need to grab some lightbulbs real quick.

If I Were A Playmate

Tacos.

TURN ONS:

• Tacos
• Unicorns
• Clean sheets
• Getting a big chunk of BBQ out with really skillful flossing
• Law & Order marathons
• Laugh snorts
• Particularly impressive unibrows on others (make me feel like I have my shit together)
• Filling a sheet of clean notebook paper with my best handwriting and some strategic underlining

TURN OFFS:

• Idiots

Confessions of A Child Psychopath

This isn't Squeaky, but she kinda looked like this.

When I was little, I really wanted a guinea pig. Like really a lot. Whatever you’re thinking in terms of desire, add about a kabillion.


But my parents were adamantly anti-guinea pig. Aren’t parents just the worst sometimes? I can still feel my 4.5-year-old seething rage at their blatant disregard for my true happiness and fulfillment as a human being.


About this same time, my parents got a nice leather recliner and ottoman. I mean, it was nice for the 80s. I can still picture it, and it was pretty hideous. It may not have even been nice for the 80s now that I think about it...


I’m 4 and a half, I want a guinea pig, have been told no, and my parents have this new chair. So I do what any self-respecting almost 5 year old would, I grab a knife from the kitchen and stab about 40 holes in the chair.


I have since interviewed my mother regarding her feelings surrounding this event, and she candidly told me, “We were pretty scared. I don’t think we even really got mad, we were too freaked out”.


And guess who got Squeaky??

Let's Boogie

Ohhhh Phillip. 

Readers, we’ve shared a lot with each other over the year-ish (well, actually I pretty much share with you), but somehow we’ve skipped a really important topic. One of the greatest cinematic achievements of the past several decades, and a truly perfect piece of Americana: Boogie Nights.

Let’s talk this out.

First of all, you’ve seen it right? If not, please stop reading right now. You’re banned from my blog, and you probably have no friends and you smell gross. Okay, that was unnecessary. But it’s readily available on Netflix and crap (I happen to own it on DVD, and encourage you to purchase your own copy as well), and you should be watching it right now.

There is literally so much to love about this movie I don’t know where to begin.

The music. Brand New Key by Melanie? Yes please. Electric Light Orchestra? Oh hells ya. And the scene with Sister Christian, Jesse’s Girl, and 99 Red Balloons?? Just. So. Beautiful.

The clothes. A polyester rainbow of beauty that puts JCPenny to shame. Bell bottoms, man-heels, feathered hair, snakeskin, tight in all the right places and sheer in the rest.

Speaking of tight, Mark Whalberg’s ass, amirite?? And abs. And arms. Okay I’ll stop now. Phwoar.

Come on, this cast! Have so many amazing people ever been in a movie together before or since? John C. Reilly, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Julianne Moore, William H. Macy, Don Cheadle, Heather Graham, Tina from the L Word (she has two lines), and, of course, the coup d’etat: Burt Reynolds in all his shiny, thick, salt and peppered glory. Sigh.

And finally, I don’t want to give anything away, but the final scene: yowza.

Thank you Paul Thomas Anderson, for this neon and glitter gift. We'll treasure it always.

**This post is dedicated to my baby sister who is definitely the only person who has seen this movie more times than myself, and possibly the editor of the film.

Healthy Living

Pretty self-explanatory.

Alllllllright, I know you natives are restless, but honestly, this week has been nuts. While you guys were off dicking around, reading the internets, complaining about what wasn't on them yet (I'm acting mad to seem tough, but actually that warms my heart - I love you guys too!), I was doing real things. Grown up things. Like:

1. Watching goat labor (and missing the birth by a mere 20 minutes). Have you ever timed goat contractions? I have. 
2. Drinking Thursday - Sunday. Honestly, me and everyone in the town in which I reside, spent 4 days in an alcohol-induced fog. It was sort of magical. It was a wine festival. It's part of my job, okay???
3. Started studying in earnest for this ridiculous test you need to take to get into grad school. It has math on it. I know, I was thinking the exact same thing: math is a dead language! Who uses math anymore?? Wizards?
4. Watched some TV. Actually, a lot of TV. I watch an inordinate amount of TV. Goddamn you guys are so judgey.
5. Baked way too much chocolate chip banana bread, which I'm eating as I type this. And it tastes like procrastination and fairy dusty. 
6. I took some vitamins. Yeah, I take vitamins now. 
7. I can't believe I only did 6 things... It seemed like more.
8. Oh yeah! I tutored my student. She asked me to proof a paper "she wrote" lifted entirely from Wikipedia. I'm too tired to say more about that now. 

Okay I think that's it. I really need more caffeine before I elaborate on any of these things. Go take some vitamins.

Loving

Sisters <3

Get Your Tutor On

The actual desk where the magic happens.

One of the several jobs I hold in order to maintain my ultra-fabulous wine country lifestyle is tutoring.

I fancy myself a pretty great tutor actually: I pepper legitimate academic suggestions with hilarious personal anecdotes and ultra-relevant current events. Basically the whole thing is as much an ego-trip as it is a means of supporting myself.

One of my students has been a particular struggle since the beginning. A Panamanian, English as a Second Language, 21-year-old mother with a 5-year-old daughter, trying to put herself through community college. I feel like I need a shower every time I take her money.

So you’ll understand my distress upon receiving the following text from her yesterday, a mere 30 minutes before her scheduled appointment:

“I’m a little buzzed. Is that okay?”

Good for her! Drinking is fun! She deserves fun!

But also - no. It’s really really not okay.

Voyeurtastic

This is not my actual house, but it is about the same size.

So, let’s get into this. My landlady - whoah.

Let me be clear: my house is approximately 35 feet directly behind hers. My windows line up perfectly with hers. Also, she lives with her creepy, unemployed, 40-something nephew named George*, who has never actually introduced himself, I had to use my detective skills to figure out who she is always talking about when she says “we”. Needless to say, the majority of the time my blinds are closed. But sometimes it’s really really nice outside and I just want to open up my windows and let the super awesome sunshine in, you know?

I will put up with a hell of a lot to maintain the INCREDIBLY fantastic lifestyle of living alone. I was born to live alone people, I just can’t get enough of it. However, this just happened:

Dee (landlady, and yes there are really people named Dee) approaches me as I’m getting out of my car, like a chubby little stealth gnome with way short white hair and a cutoff sweatshirt tank top. She absolutely never says “hello” when she’s beginning a conversation, she just dives right into the topic on her mind, which I both loathe and admire about her.

So she pops out of absolutely nowhere, scaring me shitless and says, “Me and George think it’s kind of strange that this morning you opened your blinds, but then 2 hours later, you closed them again. It’s not like we’re watching you or anything”.

Uh, yes. Yes, you are.




*Named changed because unlike Dee, I think George actually knows how to surf the internet. You know, for porn and stuff.

Oh, Hai.

This is where I work now. It's okay to be jealous.

Um, hey guys.

So, ya, it’s been awhile.

I’m really sorry it’s just that I’m super, you know - selfish and lazy. Which are two things I constantly strive to both hide from the world and occasionally resolve to improve about myself.

So much to catch up on in the last, holy shit, almost year.

10 Fabulous Updates:

1. I got a job and moved to Central California to work in a winery and it is honestly the best. For you burgeoning alcoholics out there, the answer is: yes! You can realize your dreams of drinking professionally, now go out there and drink your way to the top my little pals!

2. I live in a tiny house all of my own behind an absolutely psychotic 75 year old, butch, lesbian on welfare (more on that later).

3. I grew a weird, sort of furry/fleshy tail.

4. No, I really didn’t. You guys are soooooo gullible, honestly.

5. The reason I wanted to write this post is actually super selfish, because I woke up this morning with LEGITIMATELY the largest ever zit documented, on my chin. And I considered calling in sick to work because when people look at me I want to cry and punch them in the face (consider yourself lucky Guy-Who-Sold-Me-Coffee-This-Morning). And then I wanted to share my horrible circumstances with the world. And THEN I thought, “Didn’t there used to be this public arena where I shared my inappropriate, crass thoughts and feelings with my closest friends and strangers?”. Oh ya. My blog.

6. My hair is still curly, don’t worry.

7. This morning I ran 3 miles, I’m basically an athlete now.

8. We elected a black man president! Oh wait... when was that, again?

9. I knocked up a goat. Not literally, but ya. That’s a post for another day.

10. Missed you.