Monday, July 30, 2012

Deserters Will Be Shot! But not at dawn cause that's way too early.

Tragedy has struck.  About a year ago, Candito had a baby.  And now, in a poorly thought out, self-indulgent and totally sucky decision, today is her last day.  She's chosen to completely abandon me so that she can stay home with that little ankle-biter.

Back in the day deserters were shot at dawn.  Just think on that a moment Candice. 

And now, before you make any final, hasty decisions, let's just think this through, shall we.  Sure, Mason is cute and all but his hand/eye coordination is severely lacking.  As evidenced below.


  It's highly unlikely that he'll be able to play shipping room baseball with you with the rolled up propaganda posters and stress balls. 

I highly doubt he'll be strutting his stuff down our make-believe catwalk, Americas Next Top Model style.

His dance moves?  Right.  I hardly count bobbing up and down with the occasional clap as actual dance moves.  He's got nothing on my version of the worm.  Eh...or yours actually.  Those bruises ever heal?

And guess what?  He can't even dress himself much less compete with all of this awesomeness!








Oh.  Waitaminute.  Who's the little interloper?  Fine.  He's kinda cute but we both know damned well he had help!
Okay.  I get it.  There's really no competing with this.  I don't have the cheeks for it.  I get it okay?  It's FINE.  And you know what I really mean when I say it's fine.  That it's not fine.  You've sat next to me every day for the last 4 years.  You know it's not fine.  Not by a damned long shot!  You know me better than most people.  Despite this, you're still my friend.  You've been my therapist, my voice of reason, my dating counselor.  You've made me laugh my really ugly laugh so hard I've cried and peed at the same time.  You've loaned me your blanket and timed my nap breaks for when I'm sleeping under Cheryl's desk after another bout of insomnia.  You've handed me your box of tissues and listened patiently as I bawled about how overwhelmed I was with work.  The next week I returned the box of tissues as that same workload had finally made it to your desk.

Mason is incredibly lucky to have you as his Mother and despite my selfish ramblings, I am so happy that you get this time with him.

You're one of my best friends and one of the most genuine people I know.  You're generous, thoughtful and the office sweetheart.  For hells sake, you're probably the only one left in the office who is still nice to Toph.
I love you tremendously and will miss you terribly.  It won't be the same without you Candice.     

P.S.  I'm totally staring at the back of your head while you're reading this. 



Friday, July 27, 2012

Simply Evani is Simply Fantastic!

My postings are sporadic and I often forget to check my e-mail account linked to my blog.  Because of this, I’m late to the party.  The Christmas in July party.  Alyx over at Every Day is a New Adventure, had this cute idea to have Christmas in July.  They paired me up with the amazing Evani from Simply Evani. 

 After a proper blog stalking, I found she loves Essie nail polish and the color Teal.  She loves to bake and even her cake pops turn out adorably.  She's crazy for DIY projects and has this amazing knack for accessorizing and putting together cute outfits.  The kind I have to see already put together on a mannequin.  

 She’s sweet, accomplished, feminine and beautiful.  We’re practically twins!  If one of those twins had been dragged off by a dingo and raised in the bush by Canadian aborigines.  You know, those kind of twins.

My package arrived at work with an absolutely lovely note.  And then I opened the first gift.  Then the second.  Then another, and another.  And that’s when I realized that Evani is a damned cheater!!!!  The gift was supposed to have a $20 limit.  

I know for a fact that the Essie polish and MAC lipglass alone is more than that.  Look at all this loot!  She even sent me WINE!  It’s like she’s known me forever.  It’s like she’s my long lost twin or something.

Check out these wicked photo skills!
As if the bottle of wine wasn't enough!  Which by the way was Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon that was made to honor the 120 patriots who helped lead Chile to independence.  How cool is that?
She also sent super cute hair/wrist ties and my favorite brand of makeup.  MAC lip glass in Nymphette.  Which I've been wearing every day since it arrived.  She also sent Essie polish in Ole Caliente.

This is a little known fact by anyone who knows me in real life and has seen the recent state of my nails, but I LOVE nail polish and getting my nails done.  By someone else.  Someone I pay to do it for me.

 In an overly optimistic attempt to rid myself of debt, I've cut out unnecessary expenses.  Like manicures.  I recently decided to take on this task myself.  After all, how difficult can it really be?  I've been cruising around the blogoverse and Pinterest for a while now.  I'm jiggy with it.  I've got the 411.  I'm down!

I trolled around for some inspiration thinking I might get a little extra creative.

Definitely cute but didn't have the little diamondy shapey things.

Awesome, but way too much work.

My favorite so far.

 But in the end, this is what I came up with.....

HAH!  Yeah Right.


Reality.  Check out those meaty paws.  You can't even read the label.
And THIS is why I pay someone to do it.

Evani, thank you so much for the gifts.  You were beyond generous and I love all of it.  Looking forward to blog stalking you some more, but right now, I've got a Chilean cab to drink.

Monday, July 23, 2012

Meet Dean!

                                         This is Dean. 



 Cute kid, right?  Dean is one of the last two people in the running to be chosen to travel to New Zealand to work for Arrival Mag NZ.  Let me repeat, the competition has been narrowed down to Dean and ONE OTHER MOST LIKELY LESS QUALIFIED AND MOST DEFINITELY LESS FUN individual.  

 To show his appreciation for the support of his family and friends, he hosted a BBQ yesterday.  I RSVP'd in the affirmative.  Of course I would be there.  I wouldn’t miss it!  Naturally I want to show my support. 

 Unfortunately tragedy struck and I was unable to attend.  After inhaling a meal that involved being ordered by number, I fell into a food coma and was held captive by the visually mesmerizing Kardashians.  I’m currently house/dog sitting for the next two weeks and this joint has cable.  And those Kardashians are horrifying.  

And so, in the hopes of minimizing some of the bad karma points I’ve accumulated for being a crap individual, I’m pimping him out on my blog where prostitution is not only legal, but encouraged!  But not really.  Hookers scare me.  I think it’s their outfits.  Or their badly dyed hair.  Or their Chlamydia.   

Ahem. 

And so.  I’m offering you this opportunity to rack up some of your own good karma by meandering on over to this here link, and put in a good word for Dean.  "Liking the video link the mag shared on Dean's behalf would be fantastic and most likely earn you at LEAST 72 good karma points.  Leaving a positive comment will probably secure a place for you in whatever kind of heaven is your favorite.  Unless your version of heaven includes hookers letting their gonorrhea's hang out.  Cause that's gross.  So please!  Help get this kid his dream job!

New Zealand may not thank you but I know Dean will!

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Lotoja and Instragram. Completely Unrelated.

There's this bicycle road race called Lotoja.  Cleverly named because it begins in Logan, UT and ends in Jackson Hole, WY.  Get it?  Logan to Jackson?  Told you.  Clever.

This race is 206 miles long, also known as 332km, which sounds more impressive.  It's a one day race.  As in, you're expected to peddle your little ass across 3 states (you cut through Idaho in case Geography isn't your thing) in ONE muther huggin day.

Now, for those of you who think I'm considering this race, don't you know me at all by now??  A friend of mine is.  We'll call him....Specialized since that's the brand of bike he rides.  Special for short cause everyone likes a nickname.

Special has been training for this race since September of last year and still has two months to go before the race.  I'm not really sure what that means.  Training, that is.  I only know what my version of training is and I sorta doubt it's the same as Special's.

In my last post, I documented the 10k I ran.   By "ran" I mean slogged through in a drunken stupor and by "10k" I mean we opted for the 5k shortcut.  BUT!  Make no mistake.  I trained damn hard in preparation for this race and I picked up a few tidbits of super wise wisdom along the way that I'd like to impart to you.

Super wise tidbit #1.  When it's snowing, go ahead and stay indoors, have a pizza delivered to your front door and only get up when your wine glass needs refilling.  If, for some contemptible reason, you do venture out, dress appropriately.

That's not bird shit on my head.  It's a giant dollop of snow so lay off.
  If you happen to overdress for a run, this does not mean you should stash your running jacket behind some potted shrubs at the elementary school thinking you'll collect it on your way back.  It also means you should not toss your gloves in the neighbors hedges followed by your hat shoved into a chain link fence.  Know why?  Because chances are good you live in a shady neighborhood and some creepy ass creeper is following along behind you amassing a small fortune (fortune is relative, especially when you're broke) in Nike clothing.

Super wise tidbit #2.  Wounds are oozy and gross.  They don't feel good with acrid, salty, wet bodily excretions dripping into them.  In the form of sweat.  Bandage them accordingly.  Otherwise you will bleed through your tank top and other park goers will give you a wide berth making you feel like Typhoid Mary.  Plus.  It stings really really bad!  Or is it badly?  Pickleope, a little help here?

It's not what you think.  And please ignore the wretched tat.  20+ years ago I thought it a good idea.  Again, lay off!

Wise tidbit #3.  Don't drink and run.  Ever.  Just don't.  Trust me on this one.  Especially when it's dark outside and the sidewalks are uneven with a light dusting of snow and did I mention the shady neighborhood?  Oh what?  Don't believe me?  I'm not a reliable source?   Then ask Tri Girl.  She actually runs marathons and even SHE tried mixing wine with exertion.  They go together like orange juice and milk.  STILL don't believe me?  Drink the concoction and report back.  I like pictures.    

That's all I've got, sadly.  On an unrelated note, the Six-Fingered Monkey hates Instagram.  In an effort to appease his alarming animosity towards this latest trend, he's requested we post an untouched, unfiltered photo which he will do what with?  I've no idea but it was late and I was inebriated when I enthusiastically commented that I was definitely in and DOWN WITH INSTAGRAM!  I need to stop trolling the blogosphere after 10:00.  

The following is a nightmare inducing bus stop photo that I am forced to encounter every day on my return from work.  Her eyes follow me with their judgements and I want to choke her with her own cardigan.  After taking the photo, I finally googled it to find out what the HELL is the problem with cat lovers.  Cause E2 has a cat.  And I love her. 

 
It's all coming together now...
Please don't wish me dead.

Sunday, July 1, 2012

You Don't Need Stripper Heels & Cocaine To Have Fun. But It Helps.

Sooo remember last year when I did that 5K mud race and Erik laughed at me while refusing to join the team, coworkers insisted personal hygiene and cleanliness IS in fact a big deal, and my Mother insinuated that mud runs lead to jello wrestling which inevitably lead to stripping and doing lines of cocaine off your own 5 inch stiletto heel, obviously.

Well guess what you nay-saying mofos!  This year was even better!  Our team was bigger, there was more drinking involved and even an injury that resulted in knee surgery.  Ehhhh...I suppose that last part doesn't necessarily make it better.  More legit maybe?

Erik didn't laugh this year but that deep, martyr-like sigh when asked to take pictures again didn't go unnoticed.  I even managed to convince a few people to sign up.  Sure, all but one actually went through with it but STILL.  Lying to my face and saying you'll sign up is far preferable to flat out rejection.

And Mom, I don't even LIKE jello.


It was a blast and I giggle all over again when I scroll through the pictures.  That is, after I'm done gagging when I consider the high possibility that I spent the day rolling about in other peoples fecal matter.

 The Girls!  Is that a tongue in my ear or did I just do one too many lines? And oooh yeah!  That's a sweet ass mullet you're lookin at!


Remember Zero?  Nor-Folk-N-Chance's mascot?  Don't for a second think he got left behind.

Hydrating before the race...by shot-gunning beers. 

I'm no rookie and know that's no way to start a 5K.  I stuck with my water bottle.  Filled with wine.

Things went downhill quickly.  And literally.  I'm not even sure which guy this is but I know he was on our team.

Miriam taking liberties with Erin's chestals.  It's clearly only a matter of time until she crosses over to that dark underworld of Jello.  Floozy!

Oddly enough, Meghan did not land on her head here.  Must have been her time spent in boot camp coming into play.

Gina and I did not have the benefit of that training.  At Erik's (stupid) suggestion, we opted for going under.  Our booty's are not as small as we seemed to imagine they are.

I'm still bewildered that only one of us was seriously injured.

I have to force myself to think chocolate rather than a raging river of poo.

 Meghan getting a little aggro while letting out a growling war cry.  I suppose it's to be expected from an ex-Marine...who was drunk.  Pretty sure the girl behind her is wetting herself in terror.

 Zero was doing well for himself and keeping relatively clean...

Until he followed Erin into the last obstacle.  How sweet is this??  Very.  The answer is very.

  Why the EFFING hell can't I learn to keep my mouth shut?  I almost want to google diseases you can get from ingesting foreign substances that have been evacuated from innumerable strangers bowels.  Almost.

 The Posse. 

So who's in next year???