giving hobos mortgages at alarming rates.

Congratulations!  You’ve been pre-approved!

So with most of this week in the books, I’ve been trying to motivate myself by looking at beach pictures and imagining myself picking out my wave in just a little under 48 hours. If I close my eyes hard enough and shut out the clatter of fingertips on keyboards, I can almost feel the sand between my toes and smell the salty breeze of the Atlantic. Unfortunately however, I am tossed back into reality by the chimes of emails and looming to-do list growing on my desk.

My coworkers and I joke pretty consistently about the fact that we could really give a shit less about a majority of the work we do. Of course, there are moment of pride peppered into our weeks, but on the whole…not so much. In a passing conversation via IM, a comrade and I were talking about our worst jobs, mine being the month or so that I spent underwriting mortgages. If any of you know me, you know that I write, I drink tequila, I surf. I don’t do finances. So when I mentioned this past career detour, my coworker laughed. He said, “Knowing how you are now, I couldn’t picture you working for a mortgage place. ‘Hobo off the street that smells like whiskey? Here’s a mortgage because I don’t give 1/64th of a shit.’”

Yeah. That’s pretty accurate.

two days.

just a few more days until I take the beach with a bottle of Malibu and a bottle of SPF 45.  We got water and TP and paper plates from BJs..the suitcase is out with freshly laundered shorts and tubes…my toes are itching for flip flops.

Now if I can just finish my work before then, I’ll be golden.

Here I come!  Enjoy the Google Maps of the house we’re renting. Be jealous.

weekend potpourri.

So this weekend started off with a weird turn of events.  Thursday night, I pretty much dislocated my shoulder at softball.  It didn’t feel so bad when I went to bed Thursday night, but Friday morning when I woke up, I was in a fair amount of pain.  I tried heading to work but driving hurt, walking hurt and typing hurt.  I helped with a few things and headed out to the doctor.  They disagnosed em as having a shoulder/arm strain.  i got a sling and some drugs…an anti-inflammatory and muscle relaxer. 

I came home and iced it like the doctor said and took my drugs.  I fell asleep about noon and woke up at 4, competely high from the drugs.  I had promised I’d get some stuff organized for the coming week, etc but had forgotten to do everything.  The door opened and it was the SM.  He had told a coworker and and few others that we’d go to the movies that night.  I wanted to get out, as I was caged on the couch all day….but I just couldn’t get the energy.  I felt drunk and high and competely out of it. 

I got off the couch and on the bed…and fell asleep there again around 7…until the SM left to hang with his friends (I couldn’t chain him down because of my drug intake) around 8:15.  I fell back asleep and woke up when he came to bed at about….ya know, I have no idea what time it was.  But he came in, snuggled up and spooned.  I think I asked him how the movie was.  and before i remember what he answered, I was asleep again. 

Then the alarm went off.  It was…I don’t know, 8?  I had no idea what was going on.  But the SM had to hit for for a few hours this morning.  I laid there until he left and wafted in and out of consciousness. 

About 9 am, I heard some hacking.  Punky was throwing up all over the bedroom and part of the family room.  Yellowy weird bile, all over the carpet.  So I got up for the day to cleaning up something with the consistency of yellow paint out of the carpet.  By then though, I think I had enough sleep.  about 17 hours in the last twenty?  Perfect.  AND my shoulder was feeling pretty good.  I started cleaning the house and now I’m here.  I’ve done the sheets, the bathrooms the kitchen…and I had to take a seat for just a minute to rest.  I’ve been trying to make lists for next week’s trip to Charleston, what we need to buy, what we need to take from home, etc.  I don’t know how we’re going to remember or FIT all of this stuff. 

So yeah.  I need to get back to it.  Gonna keep making my lists, see what all we need and maybe get to the store.  I talked to Jenn about getting together this afternoon, though I haven’t heard from her…not sure if she still wanted to hang….but the SM and I have plenty to do, so I won’t die either way.  I just have to get my energy up a little bit more so I can get this place vacuumed as well.

Have a great weekend, right-o? 

my weekend.

So yesterday, it seems, was the beginning of a potentially dangerous pre-menstruation cycle. I spent most of the day by myself, with the compassion and care from the SM, lying in bed, reading a book, refilling my iPod and sleeping, perchance to dream. I didn’t come out until about 3:30 when I went down to the pool to get some sun on my pale, sad skin. For whatever reason, I just couldn’t face the noise of the TV, the garish sun in my face or the conversation that might have ensued if I had been in the family room versus the bedroom. It was too much. Today, I am considerably better however. The sunshine was a welcome energy this morning and I actually managed to muster out a “good morning” to my coworkers as I walked to my cubicle. Today shouldn’t be so bad.

The weekend on the whole wasn’t all that miserable. Friday night, the SM and I went to dinner at a local Japanese steakhouse and, don’t get too excited – joined BJ’s Wholesale Club. WHAT WHAT! We figured it’d do us good for bulk meat, bulk contact solution – the stuff we always use. Plus it’ll be great for when we head down to Charleston and have to feed five healthy grownups and one picky peanut-head. We can get 5 pounds of hamburger meat instead of buying a whole bunch of small packages, etc. Bulk meat…mmm. Saturday, we got the new jerseys for the softball team all printed out (they look fly, peeps! You’ll like the new logo!) and spent a little too much at Concord Mills. But Charlotte Russe had huge sales on sweats and chillin’ clothes (perfect for around the house, working out) all for half off! I got some really nice, soft yoga pants, and a few tanks for Charleston as well. You can’t beat $5 a tank for putzing around the outside markets and outlet malls. I did get a little sweatshirt that I didn’t try on that was too tight on my mammoth guns…so I’ll have to go get a bigger size in that. Otherwise, great shopping experience. The SM got a few tees at the Guess outlet too, and another pair of linen pants. You joke, but his ass looks like the 8^th world wonder in those things. The fabric is magical.

Sunday as I mentioned, I was surprised to not get bed sores. I was a real loner. I bet if I look at my iPod today, it’ll be all sad, suicidal emo shit. I am not sure how many times I can listen to “Creep” by Radiohead without crying.

Last night, after my very J.D. Salinger-esque hermitage all day, I did manage to dye my hair again. Dark. With the vacation to Charleston coming up, I just can’t bring myself to drop $200 on a complete dye job to take it from dark brown to Jessica Simpson blonde again, when I know I will want inordinate amounts of shoes and seafood coated with Old Bay. There isn’t anyone who doesn’t like my hair dark, including myself, so I won’t be changing it for now. I might get a few highlights done at HairColorXperts or something, but that’s it. Besides, I think being a brunette allows you a little more respect than being a blonde. I feel smarter and cleverer. Not quite as fun but twice as naughty. It’s not the worst way to be. Unfortunately, when I dyed my hair, I got some of the dye on my forehead. I put conditioner all over myself to ensure this would not happen (as the dye can’t get to your skin that way) but fuck if that worked. It looks like Venom, from Spiderman 3, is slowly taking me over. Exciting for comic book nerds…pathetic and embarrassing for the rest of us.

After butchering my face with what appeared to be some evil force imagined by Stan Lee, I had the pleasure of watching Tony Hawk perform catastrophically on Million Dollar Password last night. I am a HUGE game show maniac and buff and there haven’t been many game shows better than Allen Ludden and even Bert Convy’s Password and Password Plus (in my book, at least). Tony Hawk ruined it for me. It was to the point that the contestant could have said the actual password and Hawk wouldn’t have caught on. I wasn’t sure before, but now I am pretty confident Tony Hawk is retarded. I had to go watch old reruns of the Match Game with Charles Nelson Reilly and a few episodes of Card Sharks to calm down.

From Jay Leno Friday: “The talk is that Hillary Clinton is going to try and help unite the party. She’s going to unite the party. But today, Bill Clinton says according to his experience, the party is usually over whenever Hillary shows up.” WORD. There is only so high you can hike up your power suits’ skirt. Hill is officially out and giving her full support to Obama. I’m interested to see how things shape up as November comes around.

Well, today starts a new week, doesn’t it? Back and the new grind. At this point, as I have mentioned, it’s been a lot to learn. Trying to learn how to do someone’s job, WHILE DOING someone’s job isn’t the best case scenario. But it could be worse. I could be at the vacuum place still, biting my nails, waiting for the other shoe to drop…or worse even, unemployed, giving hand jobs for quarters in the bus station. Or taking pictures of my Venom face for the internet and starting a paysite for comicophiles.

That might be a nice side venture though…

easter weekend

 

In my ever-intense drive to reach new levels of spite and unproductiveness, I thought I’d stop over and write to you guys for a little bit.  Lucky you!

How was everyone’s Easter weekend?  Well, after I got off a little early on Friday, I got the SM and we headed home to chill out.  We ended up just being lazy on the couch, watching “Help”, the Beatles movie.  We were so miserable and lazy from our weeks that we just crashed.  Saturday we had some softball practice, which was very frustrating….then we had a fight at home for the next few hours ove the reasons why the SM was frustrated.  After we made up, I got a few groceries and then we watched The Sandlot and For The Love Of the Game, since the SM was back in baseball mode.  Then we got our freak on for a little bit and went to sleep.

But Sunday was the best day.  We ran a few errands and ended up cooking together a huge meal.  London Broil, fresh green beans, some unbelievable mashed potatoes and this ass-kicking fruit cobbler thing I made up.  While it all cooked, we played Scrabble (thanks mom for the lazy susan - it’s bad-ass!) and drank a few beers (the SM) and a few glasses of wine) while we listened to music. 

In case you didn’t know, I am the master of Scrabble.  I don’t know what it is, but whenever the SM and I play, I completely and totally own him.  I get all the right letters and bonus sqaures at all the right times.  Its not that I play all that strategically (especially after a few glassdes of wine), it just happens that way.  Luckily the game ended and it was time to eat our awesome meal.

After we prepared the meal, ate it and cleaned up, we cranked the music up and had a bit of a dance party around the apartment.  It might have been more me dancing and the SM watching, but I do distinctly remember some Saturday Night Fever finger pointing and the like.  I love getting my drink on, at home, with the SM.  There is nothing better than shaking your money maker with your old man, all half-drunk and laughing.  Pumpkin was not down though…she wasn’t into the dance party.  She decided to chill on her bed instead. 

Unfortunately, me drinking like that also makes me sleepy.  So not very long after, I was in bed…around 10 pm.  Crashed the eff out.  Loser.  I didn’t even hear the SM come to bed.  That was because I was having a dream that I was on Project Runway and there was some sort of challenge that made us organize swatches of fabric by name and number and color…for immunity in the next challenge, and I was stinking it up hardcore; it was miserable.  I was the last to finish and totally did not get immunity.  I remember Tim Gunn was so disappointed in me.  There goes my future as a fashion designer.  Fuuuuuuck.

traffic.

I like how I go on hiatus for the weekend because I am going to church, to lunch with peeps, have a Pure Romance party and I’m busy trying out all of my new products…and the traffic on my blog goes almost smack down to zero.  Thanks a lot, douche faces. 

Great weekend though.  Cleaned a lot, had a meaningful lunch, bought lots of fun stuff at the plastic wee-wee party and drank a little bit too much.  For real…life is pretty fuckin’ awesome.

And next weekend - GREAT news, my friend Jane from college is coming down from Washington DC and we fully intend to get one million percent retarded and reminisce about all of our great times back at University of Dayton.  I miss her like something terrible.  I had gone up to DC for New Years last year and we had the time of our lives.  To give you an idea of how out of hand we got, see the following picture:

Uh…yeah.  Those are boas on our heads.  We were half drunk, just got off the Metro and were headed to Carpool in Arlington to meet up with her crew to bring in 2007.  Needless to say, there are going to be some completely righteous pictures come next Monday.  Stay tuned, peeps!

tgif, biatches.

He must have a HUGE schlong.  Am I right, ladies?

Well, we have made it through another week together and boy, am I glad its Friday.  I’ve had plenty of work at work, just to go home, work out, and unpack every night.  The SM has an instore visit from his boss today, and he had on a one-day sale Wednesday…it’s just been a hectic week.  Can’t wait to sleep in. 

I heard some interesting things on the radio this morning:

Shaquille O’Neal makes 2 million dollars a month.  He spends about $250,000 a month on everything (mortgage, utilities, etc), meaning he spend about 10% of his income.  They said that would be the equivalent of you making $50,000 a year..and spending $500 TOTAL, on all your bills.  I pay almost twice that much on rent.  I pay almost that much for just my car note.  That is insanity.  I wonder if I could convince Wells Fargo Auto Finance to cut my payments to $100? 

Dennis Kucinich (Ohio - represent!) is dropping out of the presential race officially today.  What a shame.  Oh that’s right, our president is already made fun of enough.  Why do we need a baby chimp in office?  At any rate, Dennis is something like 63 I think.  His wife?  30.  AND SHE AS HER TONGUE PIERCED.  Are you fucking kidding me?  Did I just hear that?  Thinking of Kucinich “enjoying the benefits” of his wife’s tongue ring can be equated to cleaning my eye sockets out with bleach.  Like, twice. 

What is this world coming to?!?  Heath Ledger dies and Dennis MF-ing Kucinich is humping THIS broad?  The apocalypse is nigh, my friends.

I plan on reviewing something today.  Most likely Celebrity Rehab.  So check back later. I have got to accomplish something today.