Things People Say...
I was their bitch for 18 years.
"If you are looking for a little Muppet action later, give me a call, I'm your girl."
I used to have a bunch of them (evening gowns) but I gave them away to a drag queen a few years ago.
"I'll sniff you and then people will TOTALLY be like 'No, no see, I told you they where lesbians!'"
Is it me or do cribs look like little jails?
Friday, August 18, 2006
Too Much Whine These Days… Need To Switch To Tequila
Today is the end of the first week of school. It’s been the best of times, it’s been the worst of times… what a fucking lie… it’s been a big pain in my ample derrière. EVERY MORNING has been filled with the melodious sound of WHINEING and ARGUEING! One morning it was about wearing the shiny shoes and not the tennis shoes, another it was over SOCKS, then there was the JEANS incident, the refusal of breakfast and finally this morning was a Hodge podge of signed papers, lunch money, hair styles, shoes and change. I swear by the time I get them off to school I’m ready to go back to bed! Or drink a lot, whatever.
This is how the week ran down so far:
MONDAY: First day of school, both progeny were dressed for school before even leaving their room. They wore matching outfits of their own choosing. Oh how cute. Then the whining started. OH THE WHINING HOW IT MADE MY HEAD ACHE! I blocked out whatever it was they were whining about, it was self preservation, my sanity was at risk. We took the offspring to school and walked them to class. My overwhelming urge to run through fields of flowers to celebrate my freedom (7:45 am until 3:50 pm M-F) was crushed by the urge to bust into tears and clutch my last born to me as the realization that my baby is going to school struck like a bullet from a drive-by shooting. I didn’t though. I sniffled and blinked a lot as she waved at me and turned happily to play with Play-Dough. REPLACED BY A CLUMP OF COLORFUL CLAY! LIFE IS NOT FAIR! Whatever. The rest of the day was to be calm and peaceful, filled with creative and useful activities but it WASN’T. I had to take K to work so I could fetch the offspring from school so that meant a nice long sweaty drive in the Easy Bake Oven. Rah! Rah! Rah! What fun. We’ll just skip the rest of the day because it was just THAT MUCH FUN (and my therapist says that reliving the traumas only prolongs my recovery). Suffice to say that it was a much less PEACEFUL and RELAXING day than I had anticipated.
TUESDAY: The FIRST day was so much FUN, why not do it AGAIN?? Another day of matching outfits of their own choosing – the cuteness was enough to make one gag. This morning brought the FUN of fighting over breakfast and the refusal to eat. Fine! Today was the first day of riding the BUS to school. The excitement was overwhelming. The got on the bus hand in hand, big sister helping little sister learn the ropes. It was so fucking cute that my head nearly exploded. Then I came back home and took a nap. Midday K has to come home so I can get the car – the offspring have vet appointments today. This involves me driving him back to work. In the 107 degree heat. The Easy Bake Oven was going to be busy! I grabbed my recipe book and headed out to take him to work, come back home, pick up kids and head to dr. office. Sounds easy right? Not so much. The dropping off of K was easy, but HOT. I stopped back at him briefly to pick up the insurance card and stuff some cloves of garlic in my pockets since I’d soon be cooking. Off to pick up the progeny from educational facility which for some damn reason took 10 minutes for them to get from class to the office. Now we are running late. Everyone in the Easy Bake! Set the timer! We are off… to sit in TRAFFIC! At 3 pm on a Tuesday! Don’t these people know that if the Easy Bake isn’t going at least 40 mph we don’t just sweat in there, we all begin to cook like chickens??? Finally we are moving and it appears we’ll only be a few minutes late to the Dr. office. Except that I can’t remember which building the office is in so we spend 10 minutes with me driving around three different buildings looking for right one, ensuring that we are all covered in sweat and in a truly delightful mood. Ah AND I forgot the shot records! So we are 30 minutes late, I forgot the shot records and we look like sweaty migrant workers. They tell us to come on back anyway. The progeny check out fine, until… The Dr. looks in Cabbage Patch’s ear and says “What’s that? I think there is something in there.” I’m all “WHAT? Tell me no.” and he’s all “Sorry mom, but I see something green.” SO the Dr. has to pull the little green BEAD out of her ear and I’m thinking “At least it’s not a snail like what Super Girl did.” One shot for the kid later, we are ready to leave. Back home, met up to get some sewing stuff and a HUGE Dr. Pepper then off to pick up K from work. Now… it was a very hot day and I had been in the Easy Bake way past my cooking time. A HUGE Dr. Pepper is really NOT the best choice of beverages to dehydrate with… at least for me. I got K and started feeling sick. Stomach cramps and the urge to hurl. I keep telling K that I’m fine all the while wondering if barfing in the empty cup in the cup holder would ruin that Family FUN time we were all having. No matter, I didn’t barf, we got home and really I should have doubled up on my Prozac for that day.
WEDNESDAY: I woke mumbling something about not going near the Easy Bake that day, then got the joy of arguing with an offspring about CLOTHES. Apparently only one of my progeny can actually MATCH their clothing – which is surprising being that their father is GAY. One would think they would both be born with an superior sense of fashion. Not so, not so. This ended with me threatening to make her wear jeans from LAST year all next week if she didn’t change into the pants that matched. It worked and I’m not sure what is more disturbing, that she was actually appalled by the thought of LAST YEARS JEANS or that I would actually make a THREAT like that!
THURSDAY: Ahhh the day of the GREAT SOCK DEBATE! 20 minutes of arguing about who’s socks they were and the stubborn refusal to even go upstairs and find the OTHER pack of socks because she was right and it didn’t matter what I said or the fact that the socks were TINY, she was right. *sigh* as if that wasn’t exciting enough the SHINY SHOE argument started right after, but ended with me just saying “Fine, fine, just wear them. You have to go catch the bus.” Seems that Cabbage Patch feels that her education is occasion enough to wear shiny black Mary Jane’s (click-clack shoes) everyday. Whatever, just go to school!
FRIDAY: Despite my doubling my Prozac and hitting the bottle first thing in the morning I could still hear the voices in my head, the horrible, frightening, whiny voices in my head (of my progeny). Today Super Girl was whining about her poison ivy rash (damn that child is a magnet for it!) and how it iches, yadda, yadda, yadda. Cabbage Patch was back to arguing about SHOES! Yes she wore the most fabulous shiny black Mary Jane’s again but today she knew that she needed to take a pair of her tennis shoes with her for PE and that is where we ran into trouble. NO she can’t take her brand new white and pink light up tennis shoes that have Velcro fasteners (gag), she wants to take her white and blue tennis shoes with blue laces… that she doesn’t know how to tie! I tried to explain that if she wanted the blue and white ones, she’d need to put them on now so I could tie them since she can’t TIE. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! There was no way in hell those shiny black Mary Jane’s were coming off her feet this morning baring me setting them on fire and prying them off of her. Finally it was to late to argue and I said “Just put some tennis shoes in your damn back pack before you miss the damn bus!” and I was thinking ‘And end up staying home driving me MAD! Just go to school! Someone can tie the damn shoes for you!’
And so they left. And it is quiet. And quiet is good. 3 more hours of quiet.
ALSO: I’ve already gotten two calls from Super Girls teacher this week – one for bus information because little Miss Know It All was telling the teacher contradictory information as to what I had already told the teacher. And one (today) in regards to her poison ivy rash. Cabbage Patch had two stellar days of school then came home with a note from the teacher saying that she had talked all day long and hadn’t listened. *sigh* it’s genetic I fear.
Oh well, I have 3 hours left to actually get a few things done. It’s so quiet right now. Ahhhhhhh…. I’m having a Zen moment (don’t call me bitches and ruin this for me!).
Today is the end of the first week of school. It’s been the best of times, it’s been the worst of times… what a fucking lie… it’s been a big pain in my ample derrière. EVERY MORNING has been filled with the melodious sound of WHINEING and ARGUEING! One morning it was about wearing the shiny shoes and not the tennis shoes, another it was over SOCKS, then there was the JEANS incident, the refusal of breakfast and finally this morning was a Hodge podge of signed papers, lunch money, hair styles, shoes and change. I swear by the time I get them off to school I’m ready to go back to bed! Or drink a lot, whatever.
This is how the week ran down so far:
MONDAY: First day of school, both progeny were dressed for school before even leaving their room. They wore matching outfits of their own choosing. Oh how cute. Then the whining started. OH THE WHINING HOW IT MADE MY HEAD ACHE! I blocked out whatever it was they were whining about, it was self preservation, my sanity was at risk. We took the offspring to school and walked them to class. My overwhelming urge to run through fields of flowers to celebrate my freedom (7:45 am until 3:50 pm M-F) was crushed by the urge to bust into tears and clutch my last born to me as the realization that my baby is going to school struck like a bullet from a drive-by shooting. I didn’t though. I sniffled and blinked a lot as she waved at me and turned happily to play with Play-Dough. REPLACED BY A CLUMP OF COLORFUL CLAY! LIFE IS NOT FAIR! Whatever. The rest of the day was to be calm and peaceful, filled with creative and useful activities but it WASN’T. I had to take K to work so I could fetch the offspring from school so that meant a nice long sweaty drive in the Easy Bake Oven. Rah! Rah! Rah! What fun. We’ll just skip the rest of the day because it was just THAT MUCH FUN (and my therapist says that reliving the traumas only prolongs my recovery). Suffice to say that it was a much less PEACEFUL and RELAXING day than I had anticipated.
TUESDAY: The FIRST day was so much FUN, why not do it AGAIN?? Another day of matching outfits of their own choosing – the cuteness was enough to make one gag. This morning brought the FUN of fighting over breakfast and the refusal to eat. Fine! Today was the first day of riding the BUS to school. The excitement was overwhelming. The got on the bus hand in hand, big sister helping little sister learn the ropes. It was so fucking cute that my head nearly exploded. Then I came back home and took a nap. Midday K has to come home so I can get the car – the offspring have vet appointments today. This involves me driving him back to work. In the 107 degree heat. The Easy Bake Oven was going to be busy! I grabbed my recipe book and headed out to take him to work, come back home, pick up kids and head to dr. office. Sounds easy right? Not so much. The dropping off of K was easy, but HOT. I stopped back at him briefly to pick up the insurance card and stuff some cloves of garlic in my pockets since I’d soon be cooking. Off to pick up the progeny from educational facility which for some damn reason took 10 minutes for them to get from class to the office. Now we are running late. Everyone in the Easy Bake! Set the timer! We are off… to sit in TRAFFIC! At 3 pm on a Tuesday! Don’t these people know that if the Easy Bake isn’t going at least 40 mph we don’t just sweat in there, we all begin to cook like chickens??? Finally we are moving and it appears we’ll only be a few minutes late to the Dr. office. Except that I can’t remember which building the office is in so we spend 10 minutes with me driving around three different buildings looking for right one, ensuring that we are all covered in sweat and in a truly delightful mood. Ah AND I forgot the shot records! So we are 30 minutes late, I forgot the shot records and we look like sweaty migrant workers. They tell us to come on back anyway. The progeny check out fine, until… The Dr. looks in Cabbage Patch’s ear and says “What’s that? I think there is something in there.” I’m all “WHAT? Tell me no.” and he’s all “Sorry mom, but I see something green.” SO the Dr. has to pull the little green BEAD out of her ear and I’m thinking “At least it’s not a snail like what Super Girl did.” One shot for the kid later, we are ready to leave. Back home, met up to get some sewing stuff and a HUGE Dr. Pepper then off to pick up K from work. Now… it was a very hot day and I had been in the Easy Bake way past my cooking time. A HUGE Dr. Pepper is really NOT the best choice of beverages to dehydrate with… at least for me. I got K and started feeling sick. Stomach cramps and the urge to hurl. I keep telling K that I’m fine all the while wondering if barfing in the empty cup in the cup holder would ruin that Family FUN time we were all having. No matter, I didn’t barf, we got home and really I should have doubled up on my Prozac for that day.
WEDNESDAY: I woke mumbling something about not going near the Easy Bake that day, then got the joy of arguing with an offspring about CLOTHES. Apparently only one of my progeny can actually MATCH their clothing – which is surprising being that their father is GAY. One would think they would both be born with an superior sense of fashion. Not so, not so. This ended with me threatening to make her wear jeans from LAST year all next week if she didn’t change into the pants that matched. It worked and I’m not sure what is more disturbing, that she was actually appalled by the thought of LAST YEARS JEANS or that I would actually make a THREAT like that!
THURSDAY: Ahhh the day of the GREAT SOCK DEBATE! 20 minutes of arguing about who’s socks they were and the stubborn refusal to even go upstairs and find the OTHER pack of socks because she was right and it didn’t matter what I said or the fact that the socks were TINY, she was right. *sigh* as if that wasn’t exciting enough the SHINY SHOE argument started right after, but ended with me just saying “Fine, fine, just wear them. You have to go catch the bus.” Seems that Cabbage Patch feels that her education is occasion enough to wear shiny black Mary Jane’s (click-clack shoes) everyday. Whatever, just go to school!
FRIDAY: Despite my doubling my Prozac and hitting the bottle first thing in the morning I could still hear the voices in my head, the horrible, frightening, whiny voices in my head (of my progeny). Today Super Girl was whining about her poison ivy rash (damn that child is a magnet for it!) and how it iches, yadda, yadda, yadda. Cabbage Patch was back to arguing about SHOES! Yes she wore the most fabulous shiny black Mary Jane’s again but today she knew that she needed to take a pair of her tennis shoes with her for PE and that is where we ran into trouble. NO she can’t take her brand new white and pink light up tennis shoes that have Velcro fasteners (gag), she wants to take her white and blue tennis shoes with blue laces… that she doesn’t know how to tie! I tried to explain that if she wanted the blue and white ones, she’d need to put them on now so I could tie them since she can’t TIE. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! There was no way in hell those shiny black Mary Jane’s were coming off her feet this morning baring me setting them on fire and prying them off of her. Finally it was to late to argue and I said “Just put some tennis shoes in your damn back pack before you miss the damn bus!” and I was thinking ‘And end up staying home driving me MAD! Just go to school! Someone can tie the damn shoes for you!’
And so they left. And it is quiet. And quiet is good. 3 more hours of quiet.
ALSO: I’ve already gotten two calls from Super Girls teacher this week – one for bus information because little Miss Know It All was telling the teacher contradictory information as to what I had already told the teacher. And one (today) in regards to her poison ivy rash. Cabbage Patch had two stellar days of school then came home with a note from the teacher saying that she had talked all day long and hadn’t listened. *sigh* it’s genetic I fear.
Oh well, I have 3 hours left to actually get a few things done. It’s so quiet right now. Ahhhhhhh…. I’m having a Zen moment (don’t call me bitches and ruin this for me!).
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Easy Bake Oven
On to the NEXT part of my BIRTHDAY! Oh I forgot to mention that while we were waiting to be seated, I sat on the floor and opened all my presents like a 3 year old. Yeah, whatever, my party, my pressies, my goodness I’m sure everyone else in the waiting area appreciated me sitting and not flashing my leopard print panties at them any more. (enjoy photo)
My Pressies!
After The Magic Time Machine dinner there was a debate as to where to go after. The initial thought was to go to Pete’s Dueling Piano Bar but many people were going to Ben’s so the few of us who were holding out for Pete’s gave in and went to Ben’s. This is where My FUN began. And that would be the FUN as in dysFUNctional.
Misdirectional Me
Anyone who’s known me more than 15 minutes should know that I can get lost going to the bathroom in my own home. Luckily for me I convinced Shaz to take pity on me and WAIT so I could follow her to Ben’s… the bar I’ve been to many, many times… I’ve even driven by myself... but I couldn’t have fucking found it by myself, so yeah… whatever. ANYWAY… I digress, Shaz helped stuff all of the balloons in my car and I pulled out to follow her. Okay, before I go any further I must take a moment to explain my car. I drive a 1994 Mazda Protégé. With no AC (I need to get the Freon refilled… well switched over to the more environmentally friendly kind so I don’t burn a hole in the ozone and refilled… whatever... it’ll happen when I have more $$$) and only one side mirror – don’t as me why, but apparently it wasn’t a STANDARD FEATURE back in 1994 – I guess people just drove nicer back then, it must have been common place for people to just move over when they saw a turn signal flashing… not like now when the turn signal causes people to instinctively speed up and cut you off thereby necessitating the use of the side mirror (and hand grenade launcher… or the throwing of a juice box) as well as turning to look and much praying/swearing and maneuvering to get over to make your fucking exit and not get hit by a bitch talking on the cell phone while driving her over priced gas guzzling HUMMER full of pretentious family members and not paying attention to anything else around her due to her current distracted state thanks to the phone and her mega dose of Prozac and Vodka… um.. yeah… what was I talking about? Oh yes! My CAR! As well as all those fabulous features, my car has a completely black interior… it’s a standard… and it has a tape player. The exterior of my car shows a great deal of character, i.e. it’s a bit dinged, but not completely unfortunate looking. So yeah, older, one mirror, black blazing hot interior, standard, bad stereo, dinged… I love my car. Really I do. When it’s not incredibly hot (like it is NOW) its fun to drive. Otherwise it’s like driving an Easy Bake oven with a bad stereo.
So… where was I? Ah yes. Shaz helped me stuff the back seat of the Easy Back with balloons and I pulled out to wait for her to lead me to Ben’s. As I waited I phoned a hot man on my cell phone, which for some fucked up reason I didn’t have my ear piece so I was having to hold the phone to my own ear. Of course on pulling out of my parking spot I failed to realize at that moment that no only could I not see out of the back window of the Easy Back, but the large multitude of balloons was effectively blocking my view to actually look to the right to make certain I could change lanes safely as I have only one side mirror (drivers side) as I have already mentioned – I would discover this later… like on the high way as I shifted, balanced the phone on my shoulder, sweated profusely, tried to shift balloons, feathers flapping (hot pink boa remember), tried to see to change lanes, prayed out loud (if you count ‘Oh Fucking Gawd! Please let that lane be clear! I can’t see a fucking thing! Don’t let me die in the Easy Bake Oven!’) and checking to see if my brownies were cooked yet as I tried to keep up with Shaz who was driving as she usually does – which is VERY fast with MANY lane changes – with little regard to my perilous situation. Some supreme being was watching over me that night or was just laughing it’s ass off to much to let anything happen and I arrived at Ben’s safe and sweaty.
I got out of the Easy Bake amid a cloud of tiny pink feathers. I’m sure the people around me kept expecting a troupe of midget clowns to follow me out of the Easy Bake.
I was greeted with many happy birthday wishes (I love my friends so much!) and no one laughed about the fact that in my hot pink boa and plastic tiara I resembled a very short drag queen – bad drag. What the fuck, I love that boa! Some random person in the bathroom disagreed with my ascertation of looking like a drag queen and said I looked like I was having FUN – which is just a really nice way of saying “You must be so fucking drunk to go out in public like that! How funny! Now I’ll have someone to talk about.” No matter, I was having fun – and thankfully I never had the urge to break out into any Streisand songs. Upon return to my friends, it was pointed out to me that I was molting everywhere (ahhh what an interesting path I was leaving, if only Hansel and Gretel had thought of that. No one would mess with a trail of hot pink feathers!) and La Seg rightfully pointed out that with all the tiny pink feathers all over my black outfit I appeared to have been molested by a Muppet.
Everything wrapped up about 1am or so and Wynde Darling suggested that I have a little consideration of my own safety and put the damn balloons in the trunk of the Easy Bake, which until she actually SAID that I never even fucking considered. This worked so incredibly well I was completely shocked at my own stupidity at not thinking of it myself.
The next morning when I went to my car, I was amused to see my car covered in little pink feathers looking like it had been the scene of a wild Muppet Orgy. Go Muppets! Go Muppets! Well where did you think the new ones come from? A sock drawer?
And THAT concludes the birthday report. The photos kick ass. Thank you to EVERYONE who came out, to EVERYONE who sent b-day wishes, to EVERYONE who couldn’t come out also, and to ALL of my friends – I love each and every one of you totally and completely – platonically that is, at least for MOST of you ;). This truly has been a most incredible and fabulous birthday, the BEST I’ve ever had and I have all of you to thank for it.
go look at the photos!
On to the NEXT part of my BIRTHDAY! Oh I forgot to mention that while we were waiting to be seated, I sat on the floor and opened all my presents like a 3 year old. Yeah, whatever, my party, my pressies, my goodness I’m sure everyone else in the waiting area appreciated me sitting and not flashing my leopard print panties at them any more. (enjoy photo)
My Pressies!
After The Magic Time Machine dinner there was a debate as to where to go after. The initial thought was to go to Pete’s Dueling Piano Bar but many people were going to Ben’s so the few of us who were holding out for Pete’s gave in and went to Ben’s. This is where My FUN began. And that would be the FUN as in dysFUNctional.
Misdirectional Me
Anyone who’s known me more than 15 minutes should know that I can get lost going to the bathroom in my own home. Luckily for me I convinced Shaz to take pity on me and WAIT so I could follow her to Ben’s… the bar I’ve been to many, many times… I’ve even driven by myself... but I couldn’t have fucking found it by myself, so yeah… whatever. ANYWAY… I digress, Shaz helped stuff all of the balloons in my car and I pulled out to follow her. Okay, before I go any further I must take a moment to explain my car. I drive a 1994 Mazda Protégé. With no AC (I need to get the Freon refilled… well switched over to the more environmentally friendly kind so I don’t burn a hole in the ozone and refilled… whatever... it’ll happen when I have more $$$) and only one side mirror – don’t as me why, but apparently it wasn’t a STANDARD FEATURE back in 1994 – I guess people just drove nicer back then, it must have been common place for people to just move over when they saw a turn signal flashing… not like now when the turn signal causes people to instinctively speed up and cut you off thereby necessitating the use of the side mirror (and hand grenade launcher… or the throwing of a juice box) as well as turning to look and much praying/swearing and maneuvering to get over to make your fucking exit and not get hit by a bitch talking on the cell phone while driving her over priced gas guzzling HUMMER full of pretentious family members and not paying attention to anything else around her due to her current distracted state thanks to the phone and her mega dose of Prozac and Vodka… um.. yeah… what was I talking about? Oh yes! My CAR! As well as all those fabulous features, my car has a completely black interior… it’s a standard… and it has a tape player. The exterior of my car shows a great deal of character, i.e. it’s a bit dinged, but not completely unfortunate looking. So yeah, older, one mirror, black blazing hot interior, standard, bad stereo, dinged… I love my car. Really I do. When it’s not incredibly hot (like it is NOW) its fun to drive. Otherwise it’s like driving an Easy Bake oven with a bad stereo.
So… where was I? Ah yes. Shaz helped me stuff the back seat of the Easy Back with balloons and I pulled out to wait for her to lead me to Ben’s. As I waited I phoned a hot man on my cell phone, which for some fucked up reason I didn’t have my ear piece so I was having to hold the phone to my own ear. Of course on pulling out of my parking spot I failed to realize at that moment that no only could I not see out of the back window of the Easy Back, but the large multitude of balloons was effectively blocking my view to actually look to the right to make certain I could change lanes safely as I have only one side mirror (drivers side) as I have already mentioned – I would discover this later… like on the high way as I shifted, balanced the phone on my shoulder, sweated profusely, tried to shift balloons, feathers flapping (hot pink boa remember), tried to see to change lanes, prayed out loud (if you count ‘Oh Fucking Gawd! Please let that lane be clear! I can’t see a fucking thing! Don’t let me die in the Easy Bake Oven!’) and checking to see if my brownies were cooked yet as I tried to keep up with Shaz who was driving as she usually does – which is VERY fast with MANY lane changes – with little regard to my perilous situation. Some supreme being was watching over me that night or was just laughing it’s ass off to much to let anything happen and I arrived at Ben’s safe and sweaty.
I got out of the Easy Bake amid a cloud of tiny pink feathers. I’m sure the people around me kept expecting a troupe of midget clowns to follow me out of the Easy Bake.
I was greeted with many happy birthday wishes (I love my friends so much!) and no one laughed about the fact that in my hot pink boa and plastic tiara I resembled a very short drag queen – bad drag. What the fuck, I love that boa! Some random person in the bathroom disagreed with my ascertation of looking like a drag queen and said I looked like I was having FUN – which is just a really nice way of saying “You must be so fucking drunk to go out in public like that! How funny! Now I’ll have someone to talk about.” No matter, I was having fun – and thankfully I never had the urge to break out into any Streisand songs. Upon return to my friends, it was pointed out to me that I was molting everywhere (ahhh what an interesting path I was leaving, if only Hansel and Gretel had thought of that. No one would mess with a trail of hot pink feathers!) and La Seg rightfully pointed out that with all the tiny pink feathers all over my black outfit I appeared to have been molested by a Muppet.
Everything wrapped up about 1am or so and Wynde Darling suggested that I have a little consideration of my own safety and put the damn balloons in the trunk of the Easy Bake, which until she actually SAID that I never even fucking considered. This worked so incredibly well I was completely shocked at my own stupidity at not thinking of it myself.
The next morning when I went to my car, I was amused to see my car covered in little pink feathers looking like it had been the scene of a wild Muppet Orgy. Go Muppets! Go Muppets! Well where did you think the new ones come from? A sock drawer?
And THAT concludes the birthday report. The photos kick ass. Thank you to EVERYONE who came out, to EVERYONE who sent b-day wishes, to EVERYONE who couldn’t come out also, and to ALL of my friends – I love each and every one of you totally and completely – platonically that is, at least for MOST of you ;). This truly has been a most incredible and fabulous birthday, the BEST I’ve ever had and I have all of you to thank for it.
go look at the photos!
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
The BEST Birthday In The WHOLE FREAKING WORLD!
That’s how this year’s birthday has been! If this is any indication of how this year will be – IT’S GOING TO FUCKING ROCK! Heh.
It all started with a MAD dash to find nail salon that was still open after 7 pm. La Seg and I pulled up to a salon at 7:16 pm and I hopped out of the car and asked the nail techs if they would take us for quick manicures and pedicures. Luckily they were more than willing to take the money… er, I mean take us. The one nail tech was finishing up fills on a lady and the other moved with lightening speed that only years and years of Ninja Nail Tech training in the remote orient brings. She deftly set up the pedicure chairs and La Seg and I were soon seated in vibrating chairs with our feet marinating in blue water. Before we could finish discussing Brittany Spears skank-ness appearing in the newest tabloid magazine my toe nails were a lovely shade of sparkly red with cute little flowers on them and it was ready for me to move to the manicure table. (on a side note, the oddest thing that happened was the older woman with the big Texas Hair who was getting her nails done when we walked in, came over to me at this point and sang me happy birthday and kept touching me on the shoulder just kind of creeping me out. I just smiled and thanked her and tried not to choke on the fumes from her abundance of perfume.)
At the manicurist table I vacillated between getting tips or just a manicure until the manicurist finally made the decision for me and just painted my nails (flowers and sparkles to match the toes). We engaged in the strange conversation one has with a manicurist (Oh, how come I never see you in her? Oh it your first time getting pedicure? Hmmm… You no want French manicure? Oh, it you birthday? Happy Birthday. You want dis red? To match toes?)
In manicuring/pedicuring record time, we were both finished and shoved out the door. Then it was time for a fabulous Mexican dinner. The evening was topped off with a movie. For some fucked up reason we decided to go see “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Bobby Ricky” (I’ll do a movie review on that soon). It was a most fabulous evening.
BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE! The Birthday Celebrating was just beginning! Saturday night was the dinner at Magic Time Machine.
I arrived after 6 pm with the lovely Angelina Ballerina in tow. Fashionably late, not that it mattered because two parties of 20 had arrived right before we arrived and La Seg was told that we’d have to wait 90 minutes to 2 hours. Yeah. Really.
We finally got lead to our table – THE SHORT BUS! How freaking appropriate is that? ME, the biggest DORK of all and my friends on the short bus. It was perfect. The food was amazing. But whatever about that – you can read a food review on their website or something… the MOST IMPORTANT thing came next. CAKE!!!!
This cake… dear gawd… hold on a second… I need a moment to myself… and a cigarette. Okay… I’m back. This was an intoxicating chocolate mouse cake with cream cheese frosting and little delicate chocolate curls on top. When I first laid eyes on it, I knew it was LOVE… or LUST or whatever, but I knew that this cake was a cake I could have a serious relationship with, this was a cake I wanted to have it’s chocolaty, cream cheese icicing covered babies. Somehow I managed to allow myself to let the other people at the table share in my delectable cake. Really it was too good to just keep to myself… Though I was sorely tempted. (Now imagine me up on the table crouched over the cake doing a Golum “Mine! My Precious!”)
I HEART CAKE!
Okay, enough of that for now. I must take a shower. There is MORE to write… so stay tuned!
That’s how this year’s birthday has been! If this is any indication of how this year will be – IT’S GOING TO FUCKING ROCK! Heh.
It all started with a MAD dash to find nail salon that was still open after 7 pm. La Seg and I pulled up to a salon at 7:16 pm and I hopped out of the car and asked the nail techs if they would take us for quick manicures and pedicures. Luckily they were more than willing to take the money… er, I mean take us. The one nail tech was finishing up fills on a lady and the other moved with lightening speed that only years and years of Ninja Nail Tech training in the remote orient brings. She deftly set up the pedicure chairs and La Seg and I were soon seated in vibrating chairs with our feet marinating in blue water. Before we could finish discussing Brittany Spears skank-ness appearing in the newest tabloid magazine my toe nails were a lovely shade of sparkly red with cute little flowers on them and it was ready for me to move to the manicure table. (on a side note, the oddest thing that happened was the older woman with the big Texas Hair who was getting her nails done when we walked in, came over to me at this point and sang me happy birthday and kept touching me on the shoulder just kind of creeping me out. I just smiled and thanked her and tried not to choke on the fumes from her abundance of perfume.)
At the manicurist table I vacillated between getting tips or just a manicure until the manicurist finally made the decision for me and just painted my nails (flowers and sparkles to match the toes). We engaged in the strange conversation one has with a manicurist (Oh, how come I never see you in her? Oh it your first time getting pedicure? Hmmm… You no want French manicure? Oh, it you birthday? Happy Birthday. You want dis red? To match toes?)
In manicuring/pedicuring record time, we were both finished and shoved out the door. Then it was time for a fabulous Mexican dinner. The evening was topped off with a movie. For some fucked up reason we decided to go see “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Bobby Ricky” (I’ll do a movie review on that soon). It was a most fabulous evening.
BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE! The Birthday Celebrating was just beginning! Saturday night was the dinner at Magic Time Machine.
I arrived after 6 pm with the lovely Angelina Ballerina in tow. Fashionably late, not that it mattered because two parties of 20 had arrived right before we arrived and La Seg was told that we’d have to wait 90 minutes to 2 hours. Yeah. Really.
We finally got lead to our table – THE SHORT BUS! How freaking appropriate is that? ME, the biggest DORK of all and my friends on the short bus. It was perfect. The food was amazing. But whatever about that – you can read a food review on their website or something… the MOST IMPORTANT thing came next. CAKE!!!!
This cake… dear gawd… hold on a second… I need a moment to myself… and a cigarette. Okay… I’m back. This was an intoxicating chocolate mouse cake with cream cheese frosting and little delicate chocolate curls on top. When I first laid eyes on it, I knew it was LOVE… or LUST or whatever, but I knew that this cake was a cake I could have a serious relationship with, this was a cake I wanted to have it’s chocolaty, cream cheese icicing covered babies. Somehow I managed to allow myself to let the other people at the table share in my delectable cake. Really it was too good to just keep to myself… Though I was sorely tempted. (Now imagine me up on the table crouched over the cake doing a Golum “Mine! My Precious!”)
I HEART CAKE!
Okay, enough of that for now. I must take a shower. There is MORE to write… so stay tuned!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)