leftovers

What does 'last chance' mean after 8 years?

It seems like relationship questions never stop coming. And there's always 'is this right for me?' lingering somewhere. Always always. I literally roll my eyes when I read or hear 'you just know' and 'he's the one.' For fun I read sex/relationship advice columns and have figured out how usually horrible they are. Like, if you have to ask then something is wrong and only you can answer your own question, open communication bla bla bla. They like to be reassured that they are doing the 'right' thing because for idiotic reasons we are raised to think relationships are based on 'right' and 'wrong' decisions and questions are always made to be answered like the answers are more important than the question. So when I ask what does 'last chance' mean after 8 years I don't really need to know the answer because the question is information enough.

Bla bla bla! Anyway. It's just another ramblin' Thursday. These snaps are from 8 billion years ago. Enjoy!

Killer cramps today. How 'bout you? The responsible thing would be to mark today on my Robert Pattinson calendar so I know when to expect my next period. Let's see if that ever happens. I feel like somebody churned my lower back through a sausage grinder and tried to put it back in tattered pieces. Coffee might help. Marc told me he's heard that pot helps girl cramps but like it or not I'm just not into pot. I will fight for the legalization though. Or will I? Hmmm. Everyone does that thing where they support issues that fit into their image or social group but it surprises me when I do it. Looks like I'm researching Marijuana legislation today. Sigh.

I've always wondered, Are there cops out there fighting for Marijuana Legalization? Are they silently fighting for it? Are cops who are pro-legalized-pot automatically fired? When I first started working at my drug testing job I thought about drug legalization every day. And then maybe once a week. And then almost never unless someone asked me about it so maybe cops feel like they are around the 'bad kind' of drug addicts so much that they don't know where to begin.

At my job, I only dealt with the chemical extraction and analysis part of drug testing so I rarely, if ever, got to hear about the human side of drug testing. And when I did, most of the stories were pretty sad like moms losing their children because they couldn't quit drinking (not Native American (I am so sick of hearing that assumption)) or truck drivers who caused fatal accidents because of meth. I think the general public never really hears about the "boring side" of drug testing so here it is: The closer you are to drug users means the more educated opinions you can make about drug use and in that vein I'd like to think the people I worked with at the lab are more apt to make legislation regarding drug legalization than slimy politicians and lobbyists and protesters. But we are a democracy after all and sometimes noise makes more impact than experience. Anyway. Are there pro-pot cops out there? Probably. Are there enough to make an impact? Probably not.

Bye bye bangs! I'm growing 'em out now. Might as well since I'm bleaching my hair later this summer. Seriously? Seriously.

I'm making an appointment with Marc's hairdresser friend at Heart & Soul in sNob Hill for a dye job. I've been inspired by some photo of Jennifer Garner in some magazine (real specific, huh?)

This is me lazing by the pool at Buffalo Thunder Resort. I even had a cocktail with a tiny umbrella in it.

So, a few weekends ago I went to a friend's Bachelorette Party at Buffalo Thunder. And it was pretty ok considering the 'bachelorette party' concept making me ill. Please, somebody, explain to me what I'm missing that makes the BP fun. Gratuitous drinking? Already do that on normal weekends. Girl talk? Same answer. Celebrating last days as a single lady? This is the worst one! Are they expecting you to cheat or flirt with other guys? Weird.

Megan's not a party girl anyhow so we sat around the suite with penis tiaras and feather boas gabbing about life. Everyone was responsible for making their own signature cocktail for the party and someone made something called Nuclear Pink Lemonade so obviously the convo become much more interesting after that. I should note that this was the bride-to-be to my first love, high school boyfriend! Can you imagine? Girls getting along with each other despite a shared ex-boyfriend/current fiance! It's as if the catty women stereotypes only evolved in movies and tv. Wait, ew, I'm not fond of written sarcasm. You get my point, right?!

One of the girls told me "Daaaaaaaamm-mnn, look at your cleavage!" so I obvies had a fantastic time even though I accidentally farted sort of loud in the echo-y bathroom while everyone was supposed to be sleeping and was too afraid to come out right away so I sat in there for an extra 5 minutes. When I came out no one giggled or said anything so I was like 'awesome. this group is chill.' And unfortunately you will remember that story better than anything else I wrote today. Great.

And you wonder why I have fur on all of my clothes :)

TRAVEL TRIP: SLC, day four

SALT LAKE CITY.

Sunday, April 18, 2010. Day Four or The Wonderful Way In Which We Walk.

No matter how old I get, sitting alone in the backseat makes me feel 5 and 1/2.

We drove the 40 minutes east of SLC, through the Wasatch Range, to Park City. I spied out through the backseat windows, eyes wide like a baby kitten. Dry grasses and thirsty aspens dotted the eastern slopes while the westernmost hills were still blanketed with snow and cool shade. Abandoned farm houses littered the mountain drive. And we drove a steady 60 miles per hour, I could have sat there forever watching snow slowly melt into creeks. Imagining mountain goats and Heidi and the Swiss Alps from the hot leather of the backseat. Juniper tinged wind blowing my hair back. There's almost nothing more satisfying than the silence in observing mountain geology. Superior and slow, you can only watch.

Welcome to the dollhouse... street.

Park City strikes me with skepticism in the same way that Santa Fe does. Like, really? Like lunch specials are 18 bucks? And this consignment store ring is $52? Really? And there's no garbage in the gutter? And that obvious millionaire is wearing a cowboy hat? And this town is 80.5% White as factored by the 2008 census? And seriously, 18 dollar lunches?! Really? Come on now, be serious, Park City.

If I weren't with the Cleavers, I'd have literally pissed on their sidewalks. Excuses, excuses! I'm just a wimp.

CLICK BELOW TO READ MORE :)

lost weekend, las vegas

Congratulate me. Actually, congratulate my immune system. I've finally recovered from the pretty terrible exhaustion cold I got in Las Vegas.

None of my lost weekend snaps really embodied how I felt about our trip so I searched the internet for "quintessential Las Vegas" and got this picture. I was expecting Jimmy Buffett cover bands, Elvis impersonators with acne, distressed gamblers boring holes into slot machines with their bloodshot eyes. Nevertheless, a nerd on a winning streak seems about right.

It's a happy accident that I waited until my cold cleared up to post Las Vegas. It's given my brain time to sandpaper the rough edges of our motley nights. The brilliance of sharing eyeliner and hairspray, flashing light bulbs reflecting on our glossy lips, late night girl chats from a jacuzzi that starts with one button overshadowing missed phone calls and self-righteous silence, horribly crummy waiters and overpriced dinners. And if that all sounds too emotional, then at least I took tons of photos at the Rehab Sex Orgy Beach Party...

CLICK BELOW IF YOU'D LIKE TO READ MORE :)

he's implying i owe him

simon's house. saturday night. it was slightly under a hundred degrees in simey's living room. we each took our turn resting our heads on a box of frozen chicken nuggets in the freezer.there was a dance party at a hotel on the same day as the gay pride parade aka dog petting dog event. see? lasers, djs, spandex, etc. bum bum bum ba ba ba ba bum bum bum so you think you're beeeeeeetter off aloooooone.
simey gave me a wristband and stern lecture about how it's worth $125, did you hear me, G? $125 for you you you so you better remember this for the rest of your life.
i will. don't worry.

hotel room with a balcony overlooking the party. and don't forget the beads!
vip area we were so cool man. i danced round and round and free red bull. plus big round beanbags with minimal stains. yeah so we were all yawns about the guys wearing tight green speedos but i went out of my nonchalant i've seen everything character when i saw guys wearing little boy tighty whiteys with dinosaur and spiderman designs.
we played never have i ever and it just evolved into confessing the strangest object you ever used to masturbate with as a kid. there was a microwaved cantaloupe, barbie doll, vibrating pen, kitchen appliance (?). and then it became talk about your getting arrested experience of which simon stood up like at aa meetings and talked about the indecent exposure incident. he's a real trooper.

a little fondle on the top floor

did you hear us? we were hot and loud. and young.

saturday night.

steven bought out executive suites so we had three bedrooms on the top floor at the hyatt in downtown albuquerque and everyone was shi shi frou frou but we all took off our heels and ran around the rooms barefoot with rainbow drinks. we took jager shots and drank hpnotiq and just generally lived like eight billion dollars for twenty five minutes.
basically every kind of drink you ever wanted to taste. parties with jess are A+.
PROOF!!! FINALLY. i woke up the next morning at the hotel and wandered outside wearing somebody else's wedges. looks like i wore jessica's shoes from this picture. i'm getting ahead of myself tho.
jessica rented the vip area and we got free bottle service which means free cape codes, red bull vodkas and greyhounds all night. marc and jay met us at the club where they almost didn't let jay in cause he wasn't dressed dbag enough. i think this picture says it all.
oh yea. jess gave us glow in the dark bracelets and we decided to go to a rave before the end of the month. eeeeeeeeeee.
smokey. oh wait. the corner we were sitting in blew hundreds of clouds of smoke at us and if you got it in your mouth you immediately had date rape drug in your system.
can you see her? she's wearing knee high socks, heels, black shirt and a black thong. and she's standing on that weird mirror wall dancing ledge. my bffs will remember this ledge quite well from previous drunken nights on the town.
so there were fifty screens featuring meth-ed out shadow stripper with very pointy nips. she was dancing dirtier than brooklyn lady aka girls gone wild girl, for reference read about party at amelia's three weeks ago.
what?!
ugh. no comment.
jay and his converse like a boy and his dog.
aaahahahahah. return of frankenstein's monster. he claims he made this pose purposefully but the evidence against him is so strong.
aaaaaaaaaaahahahhahahahahahhahahah! ahahahahahahahahah! aaahahahahahaah! i'm making this into a poster to put above my bed. i will photoshop this pic of jay into every future picture i ever take.
move along. nothing to see here.
k. so we left opm lotus and went over to burt's. hung around the front for a minute and then went to the back alley so marc and jay could pee on a wall.
the one time i didn't remember to suck in. pretty good record for the amount of photos taken. i will probably take this pic down as soon as i publish this. yuuuuuck.
marc and jay smuggled pabst out of burts basically by hiding them within their fist and no one noticed. we ran into alex and kai outside of atomic and decided to meet at anodyne before last call.
we wound up going straight back to the hotel room which was the best idea of the night considering none of us would have been able to get into anodyne in our state.
it's all very american apparel advertising, non? and if you don't know the story of dov charney, please do by the next time i see you. k?
yea. these are the shoes i had to wear back to the car and they were two sizes too small. who took my shoesies?
and of course, hangover breakfast at flying star. it was slightly disgusting considering we smelled like vodka, cigarettes and parking lot piss during mother's day brunch but that's life. marc told me i passed out next to jessica as soon as we got to the suite and he covered me up with the curtains cause he couldn't find the blanket.

also, some guys in kilts came over while the girls were sleeping and played drinking games for quite a while. jay wouldn't stop saying ghetto fabulous and i woke up with two scratches on my hands, a strawberry on my thigh and bruise on my knee.

i have a feeling my bday party will have to be at or above this caliber. should i wait til my girlies are back in town or just have a birthday party and another birthday+n party?

i'll sleep on it.