You down with CSP? Well, you don't know me.

[BIGSIGHOFRELIEF.] Alright. Things are a little more under control now. Thank god for INTERNET SHOPPING.

I'm talking about Christmas, y'all. I hate how you barely have time to poo out your Thanksgiving meal before the freakishly long Christmas To-Do List begs to get made. What, don't y'all have one too?

Well, whatever. MY list is staring me down and wigging me out. However, there's progress being made! I just knocked a few gifties out of the way thanks to the internet (and having my own office), including one I am so excited for but can't tell you about because someone will then find out what he's getting. It's not that the gift itself is terribly exciting (in fact, you may think it's rather boring), it's just that I saw one like it at REI and then found it for over $100 less online! Goddamn I'm good.

Actually, I am really terrible at Christmas shopping. I pretty much despise ALL shopping: grocery, clothing, gifts, car. Holy stress crackers when I actually buy a house. I am not a good decision-maker. I am one of those shoppers who will pick something up, wander around the store, decide against it, then put it down in a random spot. And then I'll do it all over again with another item.

So yeah, that scented candle in the pet food aisle? All me.

This year, though: NO BIG BOX CHAIN STORE GIFT SHOPPING. Ooooh, snap. This is going to be hard. I absolutely love Cost Plus World Market. I know everyone sings Target's praises (and like you, I can't get out of there without dropping a $50, either), but Cost Plus! Cost Plus is seriously where it's at. And they even sell WINE. I adore that place.

Anyway. Support local businesses and all that good stuff. That's just an added bonus! The real reason I'm banning big stores is for my own sanity. The big stores, the mall, oh jeez...my panic button threatens to be pushed just thinking about it! I figure the smaller boutiques have fewer choices and thus will relieve me of the Christmas Shopping Panic (CSP). Also: cuter stuff. More original. Won't already have one. You get the picture.

So that's the plan, Stan. The CSP is not going to get me this year! I'll be sure to let you know where I find the good stuff. And then you too can be down with NO CSP!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I am off to the Bel-Mar Whole Foods for one last panic attack =)

Gifts for all the punkin' eaters in your life.

Pictures always tell a better story.

Here is the star of the Kentucky Thanksgiving Trip of 2006: James!

Look at that face. Oh my god, do you not just want to eat him up? He is at the most adorable age right now (his mama might not agree). And so smart. And so cute. But he doesn't have any dolls. I disagree with that kind of parenting so for Christmas he is getting a Barbie...ha ha.

Proud Uncle Kev:

This man is going to be a fabulous father someday.

Kev and I at Newport on the Levee in Newport, KY, before seeing Borat. That big city in the background is Cincinnati and that bit of water is the Ohio River. You're welcome for the geography lesson!


After the movie we had beers at Hofbrau House, also in Newport. These are considered their "small" beers. They also serve up sauerkraut, kielbasa, getta (how many of you know what THAT is?), and polka music. Not so much a fan of the German cuisine, although sauerkraut on a tempeh reuben is quite tasty.

Did I mention that you can still smoke indoors in this part of the country? Notice we are sitting OUTSIDE. Yuck. But I guess it IS Kentucky, after all.

This bridge is called the Purple People Bridge and those people on top of it? Are losers. They all paid $30 to walk across the top in those lame ass matching outfits. They are also all chained to the railing, like a chain gang! WEIRD.


One of the hippest parts of Cincinnati is Mt. Adams. When Sarah came up from Louisville on Friday we went up there for dinner and cocktails. We ate at the same place (Teak Thai and Sushi) we did last year with our friends Jeff and Ann, but this time Sarah and I had sushi. After dinner we had wine at an adorable bar with an outdoor fireplace (the Blind Lemon) and then a stiff bourbon at a wine bar filled with smoke and rude men. I almost clocked a man for being a jerk. Hello, I thought I was in the quasi-SOUTH, not Boston! (Ha ha. I found Boston to be full of rude, cold people. Argue that not everyone is like that if you want, but that was my experience.)

Me and my friend Sarah:

(Dude, my head looks Amazonian!)

And....let's end with another baby picture. James! Only grandchild! We better take care of that soon! KIDDING. But it is helpful to see a cute McD child - I know what I'm in for. Yikes! A boy! Kev's family is ALL BOYS. That's what I'm in for.


And there's no real segue into this but, I'm making cranberry sauce this week. There was no cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving dinner and suddenly I have a major hankering. Heh heh.....I said hankering. I bet they'll be on sale! Thanksgiving is not over yet, my friends!

(Oh, but to my fat ass it is! Off to kickboxing!)

FOUR MORE DAYS! I'm tired.

Well, the fam has been safely reunited and we're all cuddled together on the couch. In jammies. It's 5. I think I'm even ready for bed soon. At Kev's dad's we slept on the most uncomfortable futon and that + a 5 am wake-up call = super tired me today. Traveling is hard work, man. I am stoked for the juiciness of my own bed.

No, people! I don't have any crazy stalkers...I don't think. I think I just had a wee case of the NOIDS last night. And no pot was involved either! Imagine that!

(OK, see. That right there, I write about pot. And I wonder why I get wigged out that someone is going to read this that shouldn't?! Jeeeebs.)

I have just been getting some weird and personal Google hits, many of them including my full name. From people I don't think I know, either (or I don't recognize the location and whathaveyou). It makes me all twitchy and sketch and immediately I want to run through the entire blog and erase all mention of my name, my pictures, the f-bomb. ETCETERA. Maybe it's just my lack of control over who's reading. Or, more likely, it's just that every good blogger needs to get slapped in the face every once in awhile with the fact that HELLO? YOU ARE WRITING ON THE INTERNET! and now is my time.

I guess there are some options for me to ponder regarding this in the near future. Fake names, take URL off Google, change URL completely. Maybe I just need to stop checking my stats like a freaking fiend. In the meantime, let me tell you....one thing I AM going to do is eventually make good on that hiatus. It might be just a few days, a few weeks....but I am kind of over the posting everday bit. The pressure! But for now, I make good on my promises. Only 4 more days.

I feel naked.

I won a Bud Light hat today at a bar watching the Bengals game.

I also just completely erased the 45-minute schpiel I wrote about the feeling of being spied upon here...it didn't seem fair.

But I do have to say, in sum, that I love people who aren't afraid to say: I read your blog!

Love that. The rest of you? I know who you are! Ha ha.

As a blogger, you never win. In fact, rosalicious might be taking a hiatus. My stats (not the number of, but the people who) are kinda freaking me out.

I only go for the beer.

Breakfast was a buffet at Frisch's Big Boy.
A Midwest tradition.
My friend Sarah's cousin owns it.
We got it free.
NOT. (Borat).
I just awoke from a nap.
Thanksgiving weekend naps are lovely.
Now my jeans are tight.
But only because Kevin just washed them.
Tonight: babies and football.
This family loves sports.
I only go for the beer.

Love from the Bluegrass State.

Today is one holiday that both Kevin and I stand firmly behind:

BUY NOTHING DAY.

(Although, do beers and movie tickets count?)

Life out here in the Cincy 'burbs revolves around this holiday.....people extracting multiple bags of crap from Wal-Mart, Kohl's, and Old Navy from the trunks of their SUVs... bags of cheaply made shit that they don't really need, shit that was apprehended by pushing and shoving and waiting in long lines in hot, bright lighting....

God, nothing could sound less appealing.

You wouldn't believe how many people out here (I say out here like it's Siberia....Kev's family lives close to the city, albeit in total suburbia. If someone made a brochure representing the all-American picture of Suburbia, well, jesus, Villa Hills would be it) already have their Christmas lights up. People here particularly LOVE the big inflatable Christmas characters and winding white metal trees.

Back to beers and movie tickets. We just saw Borat. I found it hysterical. Does this make me a bad person? I feel like I should be saying it offended me and made me uncomfortable, because that would be, like, totally PC.

Plus, who starts a blog post proclaiming the importance of Buy Nothing Day, and then proceeds to extol the virtues of a movie that rips on basically every religious and cultural group in the US?

I guess that would be me, suckers. That movie was hilarious!

Well, I am out of my blogging element here. I am also petrified of having this URL show up in the history on this computer...my Mom already reads it, and even that freaks me out some. I ceraintly don't need a certain someone else's family knowing that I'm not the sweet little thing I purport to be.

Speaking of sweet little things, my friend Sarah is on her way up from Louisville and lucky Kev! He gets to drive us around all night!

We are eating and drinking lots and my jeans still fit. Hope yours do too!

xoxoxo

Placeholder

In case I can't write more later....

Happy Thanksgiving! Be thankful!

No Kentucky jokes, please.

This marks my 400th post. What marks your 400th post, you ask? The lameness of announcing that this is your 400th post? Snnnnnnoooooore.

C'mon friends, where's the fanfare?! Fanfare! Fanfare! Fanfare!

ZZZZZzzzzz.

Absosmurfly NOTHING is happening here today. Moreoever, I was forced to have my weekly meeting with my boss and inform him of such. Nobody's blogging, everyone's traveling, and even though I haven't even eaten anything rich and buttery yet (oh, except that delicious morsel of pumpkin/cream cheese thing back in the kitchen), my stomach is already revolting. Blech.

You know what's annoying? And because no one is here today I'm feeling a little footloose and fancy-free with the work grievances, but my secretary. She annoys the everloving hell out of me. The most recent annoyance (of many, rest assured) was yesterday when I needed a little afternoon "boost" and grabbed a peanut and caramel bar out of my co-worker's candy basket. My secretary spotted me with the candy and announced all loudly, "YOU'RE EATING CANDY?!!?? I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU OF ALL PEOPLE ARE EATING CANDY! WHY ARE YOU EATING CANDY?! YOU MUST BE HAVING A REALLY ROUGH DAY!"

So I did what any good boss would do and threw it at her. Heh. I know I'm the picture of health with my organic salads and lunchtime workouts (ha ha), but for fuck's sake....nobody ever said I was trying to refrain from raiding the co-worker's candy basket. She was trying to shame me. I cannot be shamed! If I want to eat a goddamn miniature Payday bar, I'm going to eat a goddamn miniature Payday bar. I'm certainly not beating myself up over it.

Sorry- I fully didn't intent to go there, but the boredom. The boredom is evident.

Oooohhh, lunchtime! Time for an organic salad!

We get to leave at 2 today. Woop! I am seriously trying to get myself psyched up for Lucy's last mama/daughter run before being sent to good-girl puppy camp. I think I might have an emotional breakdown after dropping her off. Those sad puppy eyes just looking so scared at Mama......Wah! Wahhhhwah!! I am already feeling all twisted and anxious just thinking about it. She'll have to sleep all lonely in her kennel while I'm at home snuggled up with Biggie Purrs. The thought! Anyway: It's 70 degrees and sunny here today. I have no excuse not to run.

(Tearjerker: my friend and co-worker who battled breast cancer this year just came in and gave me a hug and told me she was thankful for me. Chokechoke. I am thankful for her too. I am thankful she is alive.)

Well, hope y'all get to where you need to go in a timely, safe manner. The next time I post I shall be in the great Southern state of Kentucky, home of George Clooney, Cameron Crowe, thoroughbred horses, and the Mint Julep. Yee-haw!

Just another ol' recap.

So.....in case you missed it yesterday, Kevin scored a job - a professional job that uses his Master's degree, offers excellent benefits, and requires standard buiness casual attire of khaki pants and button-downs. Bye-bye USFS and bye-bye USFS uniform. (Wow, typing that just made me a little sad!) Gone are the days of hard labor, assholes who shoot up gates and tear up terrain, and steep hikes....it's cube-land now, baby!

Seriously, we're stoked.

To celebrate, we crossed another restaurant off the list last night: Tamayo. Hmmm, it was good. I guess. The margs were small and pricey and not very strong. I didn't like the atmosphere...it felt weird drinking a marg off a white linen tablecloth. It was too stuffy and unfestive an environment. Come to think of it, there wasn't any music playing. And the flowers on the table were hideous.

Maybe I am still too much all about the hype and goodness of LoLa, I don't know. Tamayo's cuisine was delicious and all but....when the bill came and another Benjamin had to be dropped, I just didn't feel like it was worth it. Blah.

(Thank god K got a big boy job. If the Bens are going to keep dropping like this on all the spendy eating out, we need help. For real.)

After dinner, we joined the local Denver bloggeratti at Jazz @ Jack's for Monkey's Uncle. You can read Kath's live blog account of the first half of the show here. The best part was when Kev and I arrived....ha ha. No, I particularly liked "The Purse Whisperer" (not in the live blogging segment)....a female audience member came on stage and he forsaw her future based on the contents of her purse. Too funny. I am continually impressed with the immense talent of improv...coming up with funny shit on the spot is not easy and these guys do it VERY well =)

On the bus ride home we ran into Homeless Sorority Formal Date again. Ha ha. Remember? The guy I went to spring formal in college with who is now homeless in Denver? Maybe you missed that one. OK, last night he was even weirder than before. He informed me about a corporate takeover in my hometown in Va that "appropriated" his mother and brother. But I didn't have to worry, I'm cool. Clearly, the guy has mental issues. He was never quite right in college but now he has reached new heights. No more attributing it to acid. It's just straight-up, bonafide crazy talk.

Well, one more day until I am set free from the bondage of office hell! Free to fly to Kentucky and drink copious snifters of bourbon! Kev is already gone. And the smell of something chemy is seeping into my office so, I might as well be gone too. See ya turkeys!

A dive bar with hot drunk chicks.

I normally like to give props where props are due, yet here I am to say Sonoda's! On Saturday night, your service sucked! Your bathroom was also kind of grody. And I about died of thirst waiting for my water. And the Purple Haze you served was entirely too hot.

We did like the spicy tempura special. And your prices, they are good too.

After dinner we headed over to Herb's Hideout to see one of Kevin's - now ex- coworker's (Kevin got a new big-boy job, people!) wife play keyboards with her band, Bruckner Funken Jazz. It was super fun! One of our old favorite Mead St. waiters is a bartender there and poured Cazadores (tequila) down our throats all night. We danced. We danced like crazy. They played my favorite song: Doin' Da Butt. heh.

Kev also informed me that Herb's was rated one of Denver's best places to party with hot women in Maxim (or some junky men's mag) and I was like, no way! That place is a dive! But then we got there and lo, there were beautiful ladies all over the joint! The website even touts it as a dive bar that pretty women will actually go to. Hmmmm. Interesting marketing tactic, although there is no dive bar that *I* wouldn't go to (um, OK, maybe not the scary place down the street with no windows.). I guess they mean hot drunk sorority chicks? Because yes, at Herb's there were many of those types.

The band, busting the funky soul grooves:

I realized how long it had been since I went out dancing! Dancing to funk is THE BEST.

This picture exemplifies how I was feeling about then:

Melty light heads!

And this guy is a random - no clue who he is or how he got in the picture. He looks like he is trying to squeeze one out:


Totally a fun night. And you people who didn't join us? You missed out. Nanny nanny BOO BOO.

Sunday PM.

Some old friends from Fort Collins just bought a house up the street! They are coming over soon for Broncos and pizza. And cocktails. Though, the thought of ingesting a mixed cocktail right now faintly makes me want to hurl. A glass of wine, however, does not. Damn CO and its Sunday liquor laws.

And go Broncos!

Wildlife.

Kev and I went for a hike today and ran across these bad boys:



We also saw this guy:



I was freaking the fuck out!




(Psyche. I went to the Denver Zoo today with Em, Sara, and Sara's kids.)

The first line of this post is really the title.

A bunch of random shit:

***

Real quick, while we're on the subject on random, I'm sure those of you who are doing NaBloPoMo know about the pink elephant randomizer. Check your stats, chances are you'll have umpteen referrals from there.

Anyway, I clicked on the "view next blog" button for awhile this afternoon and it struck me how few blogs I actually stayed on and read. It wasn't for lack of quality content more than it was hideous titles (titles with "Ramblings of" or "Thoughts of" or "Musings From" generally didn't make the cut), bad fonts, obnoxious graphics, and overall lack of good blog feng shui.

That said, I fucking hate my blog. Appearances DO matter, people. Who wants to make me a kickass masthead? This place needs some serious help. I'm almost embarrassed to have you guys over.

I'm being SU-PER-FISH-SHUL....

***

Yesterday I finally made a much-needed, long-put-off trip to the doctor to deal with my asthma. I am now the proud user of several inhalable steroids and a spacer. The spacer looks remotely medical and scary - I think its appearance on the bathroom counter freaked Kev out a little this morning.

Breathability and the joyousness of aside, I think I need a new doctor. I am slightly ashamed to admit this as it feels all yucky and sinful, but....my doctor is really cute. He is my age and he is attractive and it just feels weird. Not "There's chemistry in the examining room, I feel it!" weird, because.....ew. But "He kind of reminds me of Kevin" weird. (Although my doctor wears man-Danskos, and as hard as I tried Kev probably would never ever sport a pair. He should though, because I find Man-Danskos to be very HOT.)

It just doesn't feel right having a boy my age get all up in there. Not that kind of up in there, you perv. Gross.

***

So, this photo essay by Simon of A Girl & A Boy is the best thing I've seen on the internet all week. Sooooo funny. And in a home-grown, organic way too....the best kind.

***

Lucy survived dog camp and didn't appear overly traumatized when I picked her up. (Although I sure was traumatized from getting super lost in the middle of rush hour traffic trying to get to the place.)

The girl who was working when I picked her employed a style of baby-talk only a dog with a mama like me could love. I'm sure with that kind of high-squealed pitch calling her name and handing her biscuits all day long, Lucy felt right at home.

I am relieved.

***

I don't have plans for tonight. I just instructed Kev to call some of our old friends to see if they want to get together. There are 2 couples we used to hang out with all the time, and we haven't seen either in months. It makes me feel sad, kind of, like we did something wrong. I know that's how it goes sometimes....people get busy and time passes and the more time passes the more you forget these people exist. Then it's just plain weird and awkward to call. Maybe you have friends like this too?

(I guess it just became obvious why I asked Kevin to call them.....ha ha.)

On the bright side, next week while we're in Cincinnati we get to see some of our favorite people! Yay!

***

And now, a question for you. What are you doing this weekend?

Lucy goes to camp.

Today was my little girl's first day of school.

Lucy is currently woofing it up at The Daily Wag. I've been glued to the doggie web cam all day, trying to discern if a) that fuzzy distorted picture of a little black and tan dingo is in fact mama's baby and b) she's having fun. This is her first time in such a place. Eeeeeeeeek! The anxiety!

From what I can tell, she's doing a lot of standing around by herself. No surprise there, as she tends to do the same thing at the dog park. I hope she's made at least one friend to wrestle with. Maybe there is a nice Australian Shepard or a Husky....those are her favorites. Maybe a puppy or a beagle - she loves them too. She even likes small yippy purse dogs! The kinds of dogs she doesn't like? Big obnoxious ones. (I mean, who can blame her?)

Most of the time I feel like Lu is not just a dog, she's family. She's my baby girl! Today has been one of those days where I've got to wonder if I'm going overboard with projection of human emotion on the dog. I mean, does Lucy really experience shyness, insecurity, and a disdain for bad decor? (Because seriously, the place could use some help in that arena).

She's staying in this joint over Thanksgiving. I feel immeasurably guilty but at the same time, the sweet relief of not having to ask a friend for yet another dog sitting favor is awesome. I just hope she doesn't miss us too badly. Someone said that dogs have no concept of time or distance. I don't know if this is true. I certainly don't experience this kind of sadness about leaving Biggie Purrs. Man, the thought of her sleeping in a kennel by herself in a strange place at night just TUGS on the heart strings....

How do you mothers do it? Jesus. And for the record, I have totally changed my mind about the use of nanny cams.

Green buildings and camel toes.

I was thisclose to calling in to work this morning. We went out last night and had drinks. On a school night. People, I am old. I can't handle these kind of shenanigans anymore. I am sooooooo tired and thirsty today.

Kevin is attending the Greenbuild conference this week and so last night, as one of the Greenbuild events, we walked around LoDo, toured some nice sustainably-built, LEED certified (go me with the new terminology!) buildings, met some architects and planners who actually give a fuck about the environment, and saw some art.

Mostly, we just drank the free wine and ate the free cheese.

Kev automatically had the "in" since he's part of that whole architect/planner/green builder/environmental scene. Yeah, that and he also had the official conference badge. But me? Hello! Don't mind me! I am just the young-lookin' scrub throwing down multiple soy-plastic biodegradable cups of your free organic wine!

That is.....until I started marketing myself. (Or until I got drunk, both are equally as responsible for my change in "in" status). Now, there is absolutely no shame in networking it. Especially when one is perpetually searching for a new job. And when you are someone whose skills include RAISING MONEY? All kinds of people suddenly want your digits. OK, I exaggerate...some. I work at a nationally-renowned engineering school (yeah, like you haven't figured that out- go look at your IP addresses, people!) and so that alone was helpful last night in schmoozing with the conference people. And even though I was sporting post-yoga attire, I still managed to score several business cards and dig deep in my purse to distribute some of my own. You just never know who is going to come rescue you from your life of boredom and gloom!

The Greenbuild LoDo Walk culminated at Sing, Sing, of all places. My memories of Sing, Sing are mostly hazy, seeing as the BuzzBucket for Bachelorettes is one of their specialties, and of those I have had many. But I discovered last night that not only is it a good place for bachelorettes, it is a good place for conference people. (Although I'm sure the guy who crouched on stage like some weird rabid mouse or the guy who sang REO's Speedwagon's "Don't Stop Believing" in front of all his colleagues might not agree.) I think overall it is a fun place for co-workers to get shitfaced together, and if anything, will provide stories to tell the rest of the office upon arrival home - "There were these girls who sat sexily upon the dueling pianos, thinking they were getting their big moment to sing their number, and instead they got a song sung to them about their nasty camel toes."

(Really. It was hilarious. All I can think about today is PINK TACOS.)

Anyway. 'Twas fun to go out on a Tuesday, even though we got home late and now I am supremely tired and in a carb-consuming rage.

Before I go, look who has a new boyfriend! Are they a match made in heaven, OR WHAT? Lucy + Rufus = TLA.


(I love Lucy's toothy grin in this picture.)

OHMYGOD, I was, like, so cool.

Let's play the Read Some Shit from Rosie's Diary game again, shall we? Oh don't groan like that, this is the good juice...from HIGH SCHOOL. The golden years, man.

This particular gem is a little bit diary, an even bigger bit eating journal. I was obsessed with being fat. I wasn't clinically anorexic, per se, and definitely not bulimic, but I had serious, serious issues with body image and even bigger issues with food. I was fucking 17 years old and writing down everything I ate:

May 5, 1993

B-fast: 2 mini bagels - 150 [calories]
Lunch: sunflower seeds - 200
saltines - 150
Dinner: banana - 100
rice cakes- 80

680 calories!

Terrific!

Exercise: 3/4 Cathy Smith Video

Dude! This makes me want to go back and smack some sense into my teenaged ass! On top of this, I was also cheerleading and doing lifeguard training and running like a fool and doing 300 sit-ups a day and still only eating fucking 800 calories, at most! I weighed 110 lbs. at my current height (5'4") and my "goal weight" back then was 100! Hello, Kate Bosworth?!?

(Might I interject a small dose of hilarity and tell you that I was also working as a waitress at Aunt Sarah's Pancake House, home of the All-You-Can-Eat Fried Chicken and Pancake Special? In my journal I repeatedly reprimand myself for eating at work. NO EATING AT WORK, I forbid in my loopy girly (and very neat) handwriting...)

Sadly, I bet high school girls are still doing this. Maybe it's even worse. I know a lot of it has to do with the media (and shows like Laguna Beach, OK?), and an even bigger part has to do with peer pressure. How do we prevent this? Are teenaged girls hard-wired for this kind of nonsense? I had pretty good eating habits imparted to me - my family hardly ever ate fast food, we had no soda or junk food in the house, we grew lots of our own food on the farm we lived on. We didn't even have cable TV, all we got was one station! (Hippies, dude, I tell you!) Clearly I got it somewhere. Probably from all the anorexic UVa sorority sisters prancing around my hometown in their pearls and big hair bows! ha!

Moving on to other Laguna Beach-like behavior, boozing it up was not lost on me in the formative years, no! Not one itty bit. We raged, and forgive me if that sounds a little like pride. It's just, well, let's just say that my freshman year in college I got a 4.0 while all my other classmates were just discovering - shudder - WEED and BOURBON and BEAST LIGHT. I was chugging Beast Light at the age of 13, y'all!

(Mom, I'm kidding, although - read the rest with caution.)

Growing up in a college town (a college where drinking is HUGE, I might add), we weren't content to just sip stolen wine coolers at lame high school parties. No, we would go to UVa football games and participate in "fourth-year fifth" (a tradition where seniors drink a fifth of liquor at the last home game) even though we were fourth year HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS. We would go to horse races and tailgate with the UVa kids and get wasted and barf and pass out, just like them! We'd head down to frat row for parties on Friday nights, and nobody knew or cared how old we were. (We lied, of course, and said we went to Longwood.) We hooked up with frat boys and went to cheesy college bars and professed our great love of all things Dave Matthews...haha.

Anyway. Enough of how cool I was =) My senior year I met a UVa boy I liked very much (not at a frat party, but in da 'hood - or as close as one gets to a hood in Charlottesville). We met at a shady apartment on JPA where one of the cooks from Aunt Sarah's Pancake House lived. My friends and I often went there to drink 40s and smoke blunts and watch fights break out and cops make arrests. Ummm, yes, you could say it was definitely a hangout of the 90210 variety. So wholesome.

The guy's name was Rich (who later became known simply as SlipperLips)and he had come over to "JPA" (as in, "are you going to JPAafter school today?")to make a purchase. An illegal purchase. From there, it was love at under-age girl first sight! I soon became slightly whipped. He had his own place, and was an actor. One night he made sure to show me all the episodes of Law and Order he had been in. I thought he was totally the most, like, awesome thing ever:

January 9, 1994

Okay, here's some luck! Well let me tell you about my weekend 1st. Friday after school we went to Rickey's and he said Will B. wanted to ask me out some time ;) Cool as shit! Then later that night we went to the game, to JPA, my ma's, and then to Rickey's- and I got so fucked up playing chandeliers! I had to drive home- I didn't think I was going to make it! Saturday I worked and Jean came in to see me. Well, the story on that is so fucked up! Sat. he was s'posed to call me at work and didn't. So after work, me, Missy, Patsy, Ash, and Shannon went to Will's and drank and shit. Okay, here's the slammin' part. We got back to Ashley's and 2 secs after we walk in the phone rings! It was Rich! In town for one night. He had Ashley's number from before. So me, Patsy, and Ash snuck out and went over there. I was totally x-cited and trashed at the same time. Then we had to leave and I was so high. But Rich kissed me BYE and stuff although I don't quite remember exactly what he said just that Liz still liked him and stuff. And he wrote on his calendar, but I didn't see it, Rosie call me if you can Melissa is leaving right now, whatever the fuck that shit means! But he's got my # now so he can call me! What a cutie. Jean never called. I'm bummed. What a fucker.

[heart],
Ro

As you can imagine, a UVa guy only wants one thing from a local high school senior. And it has to do with slammin'. I was ultimately crushed. Although, 3 years later I ran into Rich at a Phish show and he tried to reignite the flames... ha ha. And once again, I was all, like, what the hell was I thinking? I tell you though, I wouldn't change a thing about h.s. (except maybe the studying part of it), but I also sure as hell would never go back. It's amazing I'm still alive.

Quick, post something!

I've got about 15 minutes before I go get my ass kicked. I've started taking a step class after work to counter the fattening lunches I am forced to eat on Mondays by way of being a Director where I work. Today: Indian Lunch Buffet at Taj Masala. Yum! But also, ouch. My love for Saag Paneer wrote some checks my body can't cash. (Oh! how I love that line!) 'Twas a tasty lunch, even though I have been regretably sitting in my own fried curry stink for hours now.

Anyway. Step class on Mondays is 1.5 hours long. The first hour is spent, well, stepping. Stepping up, stepping down, stepping all around. It's super intense aerobically. Boring as hell, but it's definitely a full-on 60 minutes of major caloric burn. (The rest is straight-up muscle work. Dudes, you should see my GUNS.)Thursday's step class is shorter and less aerobically intense, but more interesting because it's choreographed and challenging and only special people who used to be dancers and cheerleaders can get the footwork down. Tonight's class merely involves lots of moves of the over-and-over-again variety. Over and over and over and over and over. And even though tonight I potentially might vomit on account of the lunch buffet I so freely grazed from, I still really like my class and look forward to it each and every Monday.

[witty closing line about love of organized exercise being so unlike me here]

By golly. I've suddenly morphed into a middle-aged woman.

Unrelated P.S. Has anyone seen the movie Shopgirl? What about Running with Scissors? You like?

Jammies, jammies, and a restaurant review.

'Tis 5 PM and I just disrobed from my jammies. Granted, it was just to put on another pair of jammies.....but now? Now at least I am clean.

So yeah, it's been that kind of Sunday. Wouldn't you be content to lounge about all day in jammies too if it looked like this outside?



The Kevmobile and the Rosemobile, as pictured above, haven't moved all day. I'm pretty sure Kev, who is devoutly parked in front of the tube and all its football-showing glory, hasn't either. Munch munch on the couch. Munch munch.

(Oh look, here he is. He moved! In jammies! Jammies jammies, fucking jammies. I love jammies.

I also love pizza and I'm wondering when we're gonna get to eat some. Tengo hambre!)

Last night's dinner, oh yes, let's talk about that, that and the big ol' Benjamin I dropped. Wait, make that $97...he gave us a "discount" because the pleather check folder was greasy. Yeah- I made a stink about the cleanliness of the check cover, whatchu gonna say about it?

(I didn't really. That's the kind of thing that people who iron their dust ruffles do.)

Now, we often drop $100 for dinner out, but the problem with last night is that we were not expecting it. We didn't get dressed up, it wasn't an "occasion," and we weren't feeling all super-psyched and eaty-outy. We were just lazy and hungry and wanted some food. (Goddamnit.)

Yet, it was excellent. Better than excellent. We shared a bottle of Chianti (of course) and let me tell you, shit wasn't cheap. I started with a salad (my Parisi fave - romaine with gorgonzola, pear, walnuts, and the most scrumptious balsamic reduction - all syrupy and thick and sweet) and Kev had the tastiest soup I've had in years (Ribollita?). For my entree I had the homemade lobster ravioli topped with an orange-y cream sauce (oh, the sin) and Kev had an italian seafood stew, which rocked. I definitely suffered from a serious case of plate envy.

So, to sum up: the meal basically came out of nowhere and kicked some serious ass. We were pleasantly surprised, if only a little cash-hungover. But out of 5 stars, I give Parisi Downstairs (Firenze a Tavola) a solid 4. YumBigFatYum. We probably won't be back though, because the menu for pescaterians is really quite tiny. We had the only 2 options available for eaters of the fish-persuasion. But if wild boar and duck and rabbit and steaks are your thing, get thee to Parisi and have your socks knocked off. You know, if you wear socks. You can also have your knickers or your tall brown size 7 Nine West boots knocked off too, they'll even go there.

Lastly?! Can I get a big fat ugggggghhh?! Because I just want to get this off my chest: I HATE MONDAYS! And by default, I hate Sunday nights too. I am starting to get that empty but angsty knotty feeling I hate so well. Do y'all get it too?

WWGD?

The first two things that pop to mind to tell you are:

Minutes ago I pulled an inch-long hair from my EYEBROW. Dude, I am a freakshow.

Also: I ironed the dust ruffle today, because WWGD (What Would Granny Do?). Kev says I'm the only one born after 1944 who would do such a thing. He said I'm starting to scare him.

Dude, FREAKshow. (But damn, the bed sure looks nice and crisp.)

We went up to Fort Collins last night for a baby shower DONE RIGHT. Good food, good wine and lots of good beer. Saw some people I hadn't seen in awhile and marvelled over how the mama and papa-to-be didn't receive one single piece of plastic baby crap. Everyone gave gifties in the most awesome and organic of taste. (Us? We gave baby Otis a SWEET pair of baby cowboy boots. It was between them and a groovy little onesie with a picture of a tricycle that said "this is how I roll." Totally indulgent and impractical, I know. But so fucking cute!)

Kev is busy cutting up our list of restaurants to try so we can just pull our choice out of a hat instead of actually having to, you know, THINK.

And the winner for tonight is....

Parisi (the new ristorante downstairs, not the joint upstairs)

Guess that means it's off to drink Chianti and eat pasta! Have a great night, y'all!

Priceless gems from 1988.

Every once in awhile I like to pour myself a nice big glass of wine, sit down, and get some perspective on my life. Often this involves taking down my big green box of shit (also known as: memorabilia) and reminiscing. I felt the perspective-gaining urge coming on during last night's super-boring Grey's Anatomy and today, well, in my bag is a little flowered diary just brimming with 12-year-old juiciness to share with all of you.

(Alright. I know. I hate these kinds of blog posts as much as you do. I mean, who the hell will think my sixth grade diary is remotely interesting? (OK, besides you, Jess!)This is where I put the kabosh on what you all think. I happen to find it entertaining as hell.)

So without further adieu.....

Some priceless gems from 1988.

Preface: I have made no bones about the fact that me and my iron are like this. Not only do I place great value on the appearance of pressed garments (I iron jeans and T-shirts, OK?), I actually LIKE ironing. I find it extremely satisfying, meditative almost. Hell, my mother used to pay me 50 cents an item to iron her stuff...I even did this as recently as 2003 (I was unemployed, shut up.).

Anyway. Perspective:

June 1, 1988

Dearest Diary-

Hey evry'one wasn't as sad. [a girl in our middle school had hung herself in her garage over the weekend] I can't go to the funeral. I want to stay home tomorrow. Chris was actually talking to me today. He asked my phone # and he's supposed to call. Jessi is being annoying. She teases me cause I iron. So what if I'm not a slob.

Luv-n-stuff-
Rosie

I was already ironing my clothes at the tender age of 12! That's just one year older than my little sister and I certainly cannot imagine her wielding an iron on all her stuff. Although, come to think of it, the last time we were home we woke up to find Sophie mopping the kitchen floor because "Mama said it was a big cleaning day."

(JESUS WE ARE SUCH OUR MOTHER'S DAUGHTERS!)

It is a little scary to think Soph might possibly be as boy-crazy (and supremely insecure) as I was:

June 5, 1988

Diary -

I feel so much better now. AD told me that CT really likes me but it is a bet. I just thought it was a bet and he didn't like me. Today I had to babysit. CT is in New York. I wish he could have been at the dance. He better go to Tory's party. My biggest prayers right now are 1: that me and Chris are still going together until Mon. 2: He goes to Tory's party. I (heart) him!

Love
Rosie

So in my mind, it was OK that, depsite the fact that some loser bet his friend to "go with me", it was all somehow excusable because he really liked me anyway? Good lord. (And as for me making prayers in the diary - weird. I wasn't the least bit religious.)

Apparently I woke the hell up and dumped his ass 2 days later. Here, I start to show some sense:

June 10, 1988

Dear Diary -

Today CT asked me to go with him again. He says it's NOT a bet. He even called me and asked me. Well if I go with him he'll have to be nicer to me and my friends and he'll have to talk to me! I can't believe Jessi is going with Jeff. (Puke) Maybe CT's parents will change their minds I hope! Tomorrow nite is Tory's party. Please let it be good.

Rosie

Hell yeah, girlfriend. That's what I'm talking about. Make them come crawling back! No self-respecting woman would ever date a guy who wasn't nice to her friends and didn't talk to her. (But I still said yes. Booooo to that! I was weak!)

But yay to the fact that it was over for good the next week! Then I think Jess started going with him ;) Ha ha. And then I think I took him back for a brief period of time in 11th grade. And then at our 10 year high school reunion 2 years ago he was still exactly the same, all gropey and drunk, except he had blossomed into a ginormous 250 El-BEES. And then we were all, like, what the hell were we thinking?

There's more good shit in the box. Just you wait. I'm so glad that not only did I write it all down in multiple diaries, but that I kept all of them! And now...I so know what Sophie's getting for Christmas. And no, it's not an iron, fools.

You know you wished you lived over here.

And our 'hood just continues to rock. This week we are seeing the opening of 2 more businesses: The North Star Brewery, which is right up the hill from our place, and Vitamin Cottage, which is opening up on 15th across the street from REI.

Both are proprietors of 2 of my very favorite things: GOOD BEER and NATURAL FOODS.

(Rose, you are a woman of contradictions. Yes, honey. Yes I am.)

Holy crap, I'm a dedicated Highlander. Still waiting on the goddamn pedestrian bridge though...

Full-on registered Dem.

So. Some good things came out of this election: the minimum wage will increase, the Dems now have some fothermucking power (hells yeah), we won't have a douchebag like Bob Beauprez as our governor...

But Jesus! How on earth can the Dems sweep Congress, the country now have mostly Democratic governors....and yet? The people in this state still voted for a man near as white supremacist as one might get (Tancredo, and the man has a hideously bulbous nose), a woman who flat-out exemplifies the words HATE and DISCRIMINATION (and is GW's biznatch, to boot), and pass an AMENDMENT.....an AMENDMENT saying that marriage is only between a man and a woman? Those of you who wavered - you just put something like this in our state constitution FOR GOOD.

When are people going to join the 21st Century? Hello? Jim Crow? Are we stuck in the 60s? My god, when are people going to wake up and realize that GAY PEOPLE ARE JUST REGULAR PEOPLE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE AND THAT'S JUST THE WAY IT FUCKING IS? UUUGGGGGH, I am so disappointed. Maybe I am even more disappointed that Ref. I didn't pass. Who in good conscious could actually go into a voting booth and vote to DENY basic rights to people? Do these people actually feel good about themselves? Sometimes I wish that some magic dust would settle upon the world and make everyone gay for a week so maybe everyone would get a fucking clue.

Anyway. Enough with the F-Bombs, so unladylike.

(Oh wait. Just one more: Fucking Virginia! My motherland! Go JIM WEBB!!!!!)

I guess the good thing is that Tancredo or Musgrave, whatever. Both will get their asses kicked now in Congress anyway =)

And no. No one ever said I tried to be bi-partisan. Cliche alert: If you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything. I know I am super opinionated and preachy and up on a high horse most of the time.** But I believe strongly and fully in what I think is right. And if that's a downfall, so be it. At least I know where my values lie. I actually know a girl who made her election decisions based solely on TV COMMERCIALS. She said she didn't know where to find the information. She voted for Musgrave because she thought Angie Paccione "looked scary." That is so so so very sad.

** New development: Law school. As in, I am seriously looking into taking the LSATS. I had an epiphany in Mexico. (Thank you, Sara). I've always thought about it, now I may act on it. Funny though, I told my plan to Kev and he goes "I was thinking about going to law school too."

The 6-hour post.*

I can't focus today, y'all. It's SEVENTY FIVE DEGREES out. It is pure torture being inside with no windows (ones that look out into the great outdoors from where I sit, that is.) Days like this are numbered until the long winter sets in. (Alright. Shut up. I know I'm not living in the Little House on the Prairie. I know it could be worse. I know CO is sunny all the time.) I could have it be like this everyday and I would never, ever miss snow. Someone: go ahead and kick my ass out of Colorado for saying that. But it's true, and not all the Wellbutrin in the world (which I'm not on, by the way, but I hear it rocks the hizzouse for SAD) can make me think otherwise. I hate winter. There, I said it.

Anyway, fuck if I know what it was I came here to say in the first place. It wasn't to talk about the weather. As I said, the focusing! Not happening!

Actually, I do have all these mini-blog topics vying for your attention in my sassy little red head, but because of NaBloPoMo (which, for some reason always makes me think of Napalm, the shit they used in 'Nam), I feel like I have to ration them out just to make sure I don't run out of things to say. But here, I'll unload a few...

Topic #1: Food for the needy. Because we won't be running the Turkey Trot this year due to my ungodly early and expensive flight to Cincinnati on Thanksgiving morning, (there goes that charitable activity, and about 600 calories burned, along with a guilt-free dinner, wah!), we decided to fill a brown paper bag that someone left on our porch with food for the needy instead.

Last night over dinner I asked if Kevin would run over to Safeway this week and pick up some stuff for the bag. He raised his eyebrows. "Safeway?" "What's wrong with that?" I asked. "So, you mean you want me to go get some cans of creamed canned corn? The same canned corn you refuse to eat?"

And just like that, dear god! The boy made a point. A very very good one. A big one. He called me out on exactly the same thing I've been preaching high and low in recent months......and that is that just because people are poor does not mean they have to eat shitty, junky, unhealthy processed food.

Now, maybe you're thinking that ANY cans of corn are better than NO cans of corn. And that someone who has nothing to eat would be very appreciative of a can of corn, and that I should go fuck myself, pompous Whole Foods shopper. Welllll. OK. You might be right. Who do I think I am, anyways?

(Apparently I'm someone who thinks I have a very argumentative readership.)

Whatever. Let me make my point, and it is this: Give a man a box of Fruity Pebbles, he will eat for a day and probably get fat and have cavities, teach a man to purchase a bulk bag of organic brown rice cereal, and not only will he eat for a lifetime (because he will be healthy), but he will also maybe learn that THE BAG OF ORGANIC BROWN RICE CEREAL COST AT LEAST 2 DOLLARS LESS THAN THE SHITTY FRUITY PEBBLES SOME IDIOT PUT IN HIS THANKSGIVING BASKET IN THE FIRST PLACE.

So, guess where I went over lunch? (Wild Oats!) And guess what I bought for the charitable food drive? (A bunch of good fucking shit, that's what.)

So yeah, I love it when I get caught up in my own hypocrisy.

Topic #2: Today is election day! (God, and I am so astute! Riveting, even!) I love the excitement of election day. I get totally wrapped up in it. It is better than ANY sports game anywhere. This year is a little anti-climatic since I voted way back last week and all...but today is the day:

I hope Bill Ritter becomes our next gov.
I hope Satan Musgrave gets outed as a lesbian (um, and loses too).
I hope the African American guy in Tennessee wins. Just because.
I hope the marijuana bill passes (because that would really be something, and the guy who put it on the ballot is really super cool).
I hope gay people in Colorado get partner rights and that the door remains open for them to legally marry someday.
I hope the Dems take over Congress and the Senate.
I hope you voted (and we all know that means I hope you voted with a liberal mind....haha.).
Seriously, I simply hope you voted.


*Yes, that's how long it took me to get this post finished.

Strangely intrigued.

I am passing along this glimpse of one woman's insanity that I found on Sarcomical.

Hooooleeee CRAP. Literally. Crap, that is. Lots of it. Check it out. You simply won't believe it.

It's enough to drive someone like me, who you all know and love as the world's biggest fucking neatfreak, apeshit. Dear GOD. I feel all twitchy and yuckywonkas just looking at it.

And also, strangely intrigued.

Because I have to.

Today has been a typical cozy Rose and Kev Sunday.....slept in, did laundry, made BLTs, laid in a chaise in the back yard and read the paper (it was gorgeous out this afternoon), endured some football, just got back from our weekly Sunday pizza at Proto's. Now we're snuggled on the couch watching the last episode of Sopranos (on demand)- we'll finally be caught up on them and ready for next season.

(Sunday blogging is hard, y'all! This all sounds so lame.)

We went to a party last night. Guess what I brought? TEQUILA. I've come to the conclusion that people either love it or are scared of it. I think last night they were mostly scared ;) But still, half the bottle was gone by the time we left. Tequila is also not a downer....I think there is some scientific proof to that.....it was 3 am and I was still rearin' to go!

(This Sopranos episode is the one where Vido is outed as an "ass muncher"....ha ha. A few days ago Kevin was walking downtown to class and some guy drove up beside him and asked him if he was a "worker" and Kevin said "No, you don't know me" and the guy said "I don't fucking care, you're a worker right? Get in!" The guy thought Kevin was a male prostitute! Incidentally the guy was also Ted Haggard.....blahahhaa. Bad joke. But Kev really did get propositioned.....too funny. He gets hit on all the time by men.....he's so super cute and friendly ;)

Alas, the rest of the weekend was chock full of eating out (don't go to Brix downtown....terrible) and some minor anxiety about the holidays and the "future." I am determined not to let the travel associated with the holidays and the accompanying $$ get me into a tizzy (we're going back east for Thanksgiving AND Christmas). I am also now totally amped about the idea of moving to Wilmington, NC. I need the ocean back in my life in a big fat way. And greenery. That too.

The pets, they use keyboards.

"I don't need to be a part of that whole scene." - Kevin

I just asked Kev to do a little guest blogging and he turned me down.

Um, OK. Next?

Hi everyone, this is Lucy. I know my mama writes a lot about me on here. I am not shy, not like daddy is. Although sometimes people think I am. Like the time daddy took me down to the Zen Dog store (where Amanda our petsitter works!) and there was a doggie masseuse who made me lie down and I was reallllllllyyyy scared. Everyone thought I was a big skittish wussy. But as soon she started rubbing my muscles, it felt sooooooo good and then I relaxed and everyone thought I was so cute. Mama has cute attacks because of me. Heeeheeee. Today mama and I went for a big long run. I know it was hard for mama because she drank a bunch of the red juice that she likes so much last night, and she has been tired since she went to Mexico. But I was happy. I love to run. I think it made mama feel happy too. Well, I need to go get my ball. Daddy just asked me where it was. Bye!

Thanks, Lucy. I think Biggie Purrs has something he wants to say too:

I'm hungry. Feed me something. Meow.

Well. Thank you my lovely pets for that insightful commentary. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am off to get my boyfriend drunk so maybe he'll consider blogging here too. I already have a head start......it's happy hour! (Can you tell?) Hasta manana!

Let's go to a happy place, shall we?

Guess where that happy place is? Ha ha. I have had a SERIOUS case of vacation blues this week. The little Mexi-flu I picked up hasn't helped either. (Though I did lose ~5 lbs and counting...) Kevin thinks it's just a hangover of epic proportions. And it very well could be, I suppose. I met him out for dinner last night and only drank half a Corona before wanting to die. So unlike me.

Today, though, I feel better. Almost normal, even. To celebrate, let's re-up on the TEQUILA! Ha ha! Let's see some more of my pictures. How about that?

Here we all are. At a bar I believe called The Jungle. Are you wondering how I know these beautiful ladies? College in Virginia. We all lived together at one time or another. Um, yes, I know I look totally trashed. I have an image to uphold, you know.


This is one of my favorites...no clue who the gang sign flashers are...I love the kind of photos you have no clue taking! This picture will make me laugh forever.


We went to a club called Bulldog's next to our hotel and this band played. Apparently they are muy famoso. It was actually pretty fun, and I'm not a clubby kind of girl, although I do loooooooove to dance. I stayed up all night. Without the use of any chemical substances, I might add.


Finally, a picture suitable for grandma! Here we're at a place called Pericos in la cuidad Cancun and as soon as you walk in they make you put on this garb. Touristy as all get out. Emion's co-worker promised we would get TWISTED there.

We did.

This chick walks around with a pot and for $2 she puts it on your head, knocks you around a little, then shoves a shot of tequila in your mouth. So fucking weird.

We did about 5 of them. I might also point out that we ate next to nothing the whole time we were in Cancun. At least, I didn't. At Pericos I ordered a $25 plate and ate all of 3 bites. Meals were just not that imperative. =)

Em and Sara at Bulldog's. Twwwwwiisssssted.


A la 5 am....twisted-er.


(The end. The rest you can see on Flickr here.)

Well guys, I guess it's time to say goodbye to Cancun now and get back to reality. Whatever else happened will STAY THERE. In Cancun, that is. What happens in Cancun, stays in Cancun. Right? And trust me, the stories I'd love to tell.

P.S. Fret not, I will be blogging all weekend long due to my, ahem, commitment. You don't have to wait until Monday anymore! Blogging at home.....what's that? Ha ha.

A non-Cancun post!

This is why I fucking hate the Christian Right. What a bunch of fucking hypocrites.

Now if you'll excuse me, this has just inspired me to go vote early, bitches!

YES on Referendum I.
NO on Amendment 43.

Chicas locas.

Believe it or not, this was my first trip to Vegas. Oops. I really just wrote Vegas! Ha ha!! Cancun is totally the Vegas of Mexico. Good lord. Anyway, it was definitely the spring break trip I never had in college....well, kinda. I did come out to Breckenridge from VA one spring break to snowboard. But this, THIS was my first tropical, all-girl, get-completely-hammered-out-of-your-mind, spring-breaky style trip and from now on, I'm set on taking one every year for life. No husbands, no kids....just GIRLS ONLY and a shitload of sunshine, trashy magazines, dancing, and liquor. Lots of liquor.

We stayed at the NH Krystal. It was walking distance to everything, which was great. There was minimal construction on our place, but everyplace else? Oh yeah....tons. At least every building had walls ripped off and no landscaping. The destruction from the hurricane last year was really evident...it made me feel sad. I also felt sad for seeing an Outback Steakhouse down the street, so maybe that's besides the point.

Our hotel had the best beach and pool area. Here's the view from our room:

Oh my god.....I'm so fucking addicted to beach vacations! There really is nothing better than sitting by ocean drinking cocktails all day. NOTHING. I mean, seriously. I'm hard pressed to think of anything right now.

We probably consumed about 5 gallons of tequila. Mostly in shot form. Here we are at La Distileria. This was the first night. They served our tequila shots (good ones, not Jose) with tomato juice.....mmmmmmmm. I LOVE YOU GOOD TEQUILA.


And here we are on the second day, at the infamous Slices, taking another shot. This time of something akin to Smurf Piss:

We had about 8 or 9 of these EACH. It was their Slices "specialty"...ha ha. I don't know if it had any alcohol in it, but they were free and true to the alcoholic nature of all of us, we drank every damn thing that came our way.

Me and one of my many Mexican boyfriends, Jose. Jose had grills. They were kind of sexy.

I had another Mexican boyfriend too, Gerardo, our bellman. "I love you hair, you like MOVIE STAR." We got pretty serious and then he dumped me on the last night. Ha ha. He took very good care of us.

And would I ever leave Cancun without dancing on a bar somewhere? Keep in mind that it's only about 2 PM on our second day in this picture.


Clearly the chicas locas have only just gotten started. And clearly it's too bad for the chicas locas that they're friends with a blogger. I think everyone was too shitfaced all weekend to ask the age-old question: IS THIS GOING ON THE BLOG?

El Dia de los Muertos.

It's too bad we just missed el Dia de los Muertos en Mexico. It would have been a total party. Though, come to think of it, we didn't exactly need any more reasons to party.







They really like their skeletons in Cancun, don't they?

Here we go...

I have so much footage, so many photos, so many stories from the trip...I have no idea where to even begin. Take this as a warning: there's going to be a lot about Cancun in the next week or so. Get ready.

Let's start with a movie, shall we?!

This was taken Saturday at this bar called Slices, where the only slice of anything they had was a lime. We were on our way to pick up some Mexican tchotchkes and decided we needed a quick shot of tequila to make the haggling easier. Slices happened to be right there....

Needless to say, 4 hours passed and we were still drinking at Slices. This little man named Fausto was our busboy and el era muy limpio! He let nary an ash fall before swiping the ash tray from the table. A drink bottle never sat empty, a coaster never got soggy. I, of course, greatly approved =)

And also?

¡Fuimos bebidos muy a chicas!



(Sorry! I didn't have the sound on...I'll figure something out.)

Dain Bramage.

We're back and we survived.



More later....