Old Friends, Bargain Shopping, Chicago and a New Lens

I went out for coffee with one of my very best friends yesterday, one whom I don’t see nearly enough. It’s always an adventure with her and I constantly laugh, which is always appreciated. The two of us together usually is a lethal combo of fun, crazy and questions about what drugs we are currently on.

We always meet halfway and usually I am the one who has issues with GPS or Mapquest giving me the wrong directions. If I remember correctly, the last time I almost got in an accident because my GPS was taking me in the wrong direction and the time before that? The GPS man was telling me to turn around and get back on the highway while I was pulling into the parking lot. But this time, Mapquest failed BOTH of us and we ended up doing a search and rescue which ended up with me in the Kohls parking lot and her in a cemetary. Neither of which housed a Starbucks. Eventually we found each other, held up traffic and then made our way towards shopping.

At the mall we found a Starbucks (not THE starbucks we had been searching for) and proceeded to leave the baristas laughing hysterically at with us as we asked them for their addresses. When you’re with us you never know what’s going to happen.

Like when we were in Coach and talking about the prices of jewelry and comparing them to house and car payments. Those sales ladies are still thanking us for making them laugh. And when we were in Macy’s and I tried on a ridiculous pair of sunglasses, made a comment about how I wore them when I was 8 and made some random stranger laugh at me in them. Or when we were in another store discussing Ryan Reynolds and how HOT he was and Sarah insulted the girl behind the counter by saying he hasn’t ALWAYS been hot. (INSULTING, right??)

Maybe this stuff is only funny to us. Or you have to be there to appreciate us. That’s probably it. My retelling abilities? They kind of stink.

I did participate in some retail therapy, which I haven’t been able to do in a while. Got some nail polish with large chunks of silver glitter in it which makes me feel fifteen again and fabulous and a new journal in this years color of choice: teal. But the best purchase, la piece de resistance, has to be this lovely, sexy thing:

That dress was originally $120 at Banana Republic. I only paid….wait for it….$1.50. You read that right. ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS. Thanks to a great sale, an extra 30% off and $30 in coupons. I am so proud of myself. I’ve had my eye on this dress for at least a month so when I saw it in my size? I grabbed that shit up. My boobs look fantastic in it.

I plan on parading this dress around Chicago this weekend. You also read that correctly. I said CHICAGO. If you haven’t heard the news via Twitter, I am taking over Chicago by storm this weekend with Jenn. Since I got a new car, it was decided I would drive that down to the Windy City, the city I have never been to before. Might as well make use of my close proximity and ample free time right now! I already have my soundtrack picked out for the drive down (the Glee Soundtrack. I predict epicly horribly sing-alongs) and a lot of plans involving every blogger I can find and old friends from NYC. I AM SO EXCITED. Especially about the fact that I’m totally having a sleepover with Jenn. How jealous are you? 🙂

I don’t predict much sleep happening, but who needs that when you have a good bottle (or two) of wine and some really awesome people, all under one roof?

In other exciting news, I got my new lens, a Nikon 50mm, in the mail a couple days ago and I couldn’t be more excited. I haven’t had the chance to reallyyy play with it so I will definitely be dragging that bad boy out and about with me in Chicago. Be prepared.

I can use my DSLR again!! Ashley is a VERY happy lady.

Have you signed up for my Be My (Blog) Valentine? You totally need to. Last date to sign up is January 19th and that will be here before you know it!


What Us Single Girls Have to Put Up With.

It’s been nearly a year and a half since I was last on Match.com. I’ve been playing with the idea of rejoining since I’m new to Michigan and my profile has kind of gotten a lot of attention since moving here. Due to being unemployed and broke, however, I haven’t spent the ridiculous price they want to charge me for a membership. Instead I’ve been a little more active on Plenty of Fish, an online dating site that is free that I have also been a member of for a couple years, but haven’t met anyone off of it. When I said I was being a little more active, I meant I check my emails once a week as opposed to once a month.

Last night I received a treasure. It was so amazing, I have to share it with you right now. Keep in mind that he had emailed me just five hours prior and I had yet to read that email. I’m not changing anything, not even the awful spelling and grammar mistakes.

Subject: Right 2 judge?

i knew you wern’t going to return my message, and thats why guys like me judge women like you and know we dont stand a chance in hell. but no woman ever has any backbone just to be honest and say they’re not attracted to someone, so i’m sure you will make an excuse like we dont have anythng in common just so you dont have to look shallow

it’s funny how we always see women like you with the tall,athletic guys with the moosed up spiky hair or a ball cap backwards,(with an affliction shirt on as well)but we never see you with the kind of guys that look like they did well in science and math.( a harry potter look) pretty much the guys you were too cool to talk to in high school. and then again women like you never understand why you get judged. well i was right to judge you, because i was willing to bet my soul that you wernt writing back

oh let me guess again, you’re going to write me and tell me how i dont know you and want you go for. save it, i have yet to see a beautiful girl with anything less than someone that their friends would be envious of as far as looks. please dont take too much offense, i’m just getting sick of how women continue to go after te same guy that constantly screw them over. nice guys are constantly losing faith of why they’re nice. pretty soon there will be no nice guys left because they will have figured out thats how you dont get women

And this is from, I’m guessing, a self-proclaimed NICE guy, right?

At first I was a little confused because I was like, is this some kind of weird twisted way to hit on me? I mean, I get some pretty bizarre emails. I was married AND divorced in one (that one did make me laugh, I’ll be honest. It was clever.), and in another I was so hot flames were shooting out of my head and the guy would have to use oven mitts in order to shake my hand. There’s a reason I’m not very active on this site.

Then I see that he had sent an email earlier in the day. Now, not to brag but I get 20-30 emails a day and it’s hard to keep track of them all, especially when you’re only checking once a week. I cannot reply to every single one to tell them I’m not interested.

After wanting to write him a nasty reply back and get all stabby, I just started laughing. Hysterically. I mean, REALLY? I’m going to let this guy put a wrench in my perfectly nice day? Just read the email! It’s ridiculous! Not only is everything untrue, he’s desperate and had already written me off before he had even written me the first email. Why did he bother?

So then I had this genius idea. I’m sure there are plenty of people out there who are on dating sites and have gotten some pretty ridiculous emails. I should have people send them to me so I can put them up here. Great idea right?


Oh come on, it wouldn’t be that bad. It’d be pretty funny actually!

I can see the point you make about it being kinda mean to the people who put effort into these emails and then have people like me mock them on the internets. But really, they’re almost asking for it when they say things like “Are you on the naughty or nice list?”.

I’m on the naughty list, baby. Want to join me?


What are your thoughts? Awesome idea or should I just go straight to hell and not stop at Go?

Best of ’09: Best Car Ride and The Horny Elk

This blog post is part of the Best of 2009 Blog Challenge hosted by Gwen Bell.

December 19, 2009: Best Car Ride
For this story we must go back to May of this year. (ohmygod a story that ISN’T part of the big europe trip?? I KNOW) I was in Wyoming visiting Kira, her husband JR and their baby girl Skye. Kira has been one of my best friends for over 8 years now; we first met the summer after my freshman year of college in my home town through one of my other very good friends. I was there for her wedding in the Hamptons a couple years ago, saw her through her pregnancy and then she moved to Wyoming shortly before Skye was born.

We had talked about me coming out to visit since she had moved out there and especially after the baby was born. One day last January I just decided to do it and booked a plane ticket out to Billings, Montana for the end of May. I was so excited to see her and her family, and to see a part of the country I had never been to before. I remember waking up the first morning, after arriving late at night in Montana and driving back through the pitch black, looking out the window and seeing the snow topped mountains right across the way from where she lived.  It was so beautiful and peaceful. Everything I had wanted (and needed) out of a vacation.

One of the big things we had planned was a trip to Yellowstone. We left early in their pickup truck and spent the day driving from geyser to smelly sulfur pits and through all this gorgeous scenery. We had seen moose, buffalo, elk and even a coyote in the parking lot at Old Faithful (and may have screamed COYOTE over and over again…). It was the most nature I’d seen in a very long time, if ever.

We were pretty exhausted by the time we decided to make the treck back to Cody. We had seen Old Faithful erupt three times and had seen all these animals but we hadn’t seen any bears yet and so we were keeping our eyes pealed for any other animals we could see. I’m not sure how it happened, or why, but suddenly we were making these…mating noises. Or what we called mating noises. It started with JR and was quickly picked up by Kira and I, us being incredible goofballs and weirdos anyway. It kind of sounded like….over exaggerated burps? I couldn’t really tell you. All I know is it had something to do with us attracting animals and it had us in hysterics. Kira would make a noise, we would laugh, I would respond with my own noise and we’d be buckled over. All the while JR, the driver, was like what the fuck did I get myself into?

We came across these female elk on the side of the road and we pulled over so that we could take some pictures. The windows are rolled down and JR just lets one of these mating calls out. One of the female elk’s heads pops up so fast, all “where’s the penis at, yo?” and we lose it. The whole ride home we make these noises, keeping Skye (and ourselves) entertained. I even have audio clips of us making these noises (which I just listened to and started laughing so hard, I cried, again. I wish I could share it with you but I can’t seem to get it off my phone). We started just throwing them into a random conversation, combined with words when we decided we needed to make the noise. By the time we got back to their house, we had lost our voices and were splotchy from all the laugh-crying we were doing.

It’s moments like these that really stick out in memories. It was just a simple car ride back from Yellowstone. It was dark, there was no scenery to be seen past the headlights yet it was one of my favorite moments from this year. A good–no, GREAT–laugh with great friends. One that I can still laugh about.

Here are some of my favorite pictures from that day:

Kira and I (and a bears butt.)

Kira and Skye


Old Faithful erupting

Sleepy Skye

Kira, Jr and Skye

Kira will hate me for posting this!

The moose after hearing JR’s mating call

At the end of the ride through Yellowstone, we came across this fox which we figured was racing us. We won.

Thanksgiving: The Story of the Bloody Turkey

Thanksgiving has been one of my favorite holidays for years; alot of that has to do with food but a close second is because when you bring my family together it means many hours of entertainment. This year I was able to come home for the first time in many years; past years always involved projects that were due the next day or jobs not giving me enough vacation time so I missed the comedy routines that usually centered around getting a rise out of my mother. You see, she’s the only girl out of 5 boys. It becomes a competition amongst her brothers as to who can rile her up the most.

There was the usual amazing food, including my mom’s signature sausage stuffing, sweet potato casserole, apple-cranberry sauce and a juicy turkey and all of this doused in gravy. Throw in the entertainment of 15 relatives, 2 bottles of champagne, 5 bottles of wine and endless beer and you have a party. It started with a fight with my father over the chair arrangement in the dining room at the table most definitely not built for fifteen people but we were making them fit, godddamnit and ended with my mother yelling at me for, after 35 years, outing her and dad to my grandfather.

Outside of the usual spats within my family over who was really left at the rest stop when they were five, I’m reminded of a past thanksgiving (as we all were, since every thanksgiving it is brought up) which stands out on the radar as being one of the best freakouts my mother ever had. Although when my father outed my mother to my grandfather (apparently, he didn’t know they lived together before marriage. And this is a problem NOW after they’ve had two children and have been married 30 years…) and my mother turned around and blamed it on me, THAT might rival this story. (at least the murderous expression on my moms face might).

Many thanksgivings ago, when we still lived in Connecticut and family rarely came out for the big turkey, we had my Uncle John, my mom’s youngest brother, over along with a few other family friends. This was before my mom had gotten her new oven and she was having massive difficulties cooking the turkey. Every time she took it out of the oven, it wasn’t done. Even after the timer thingy had popped up, it was still oozing red juice. After several glasses of wine my mothers mouth turned a little foul, disregarding all her guests and we could tell the state of the turkey by the stream of words coming out of the kitchen. It became a little bit of a joke. To everyone but my mother. (She’s italian, if the cooking isn’t going right, the world isn’t right)

After about 4 hours had gone by, it finally was done and she pulled it out of the oven, placed it on a white platter and was preparing to bring it out to the dining room where everything else was already waiting. In the brief moment she turned away from the turkey, my uncle being the comedian he was, took his glass of red wine and poured alittle onto the platter right next to the turkey. My mom then turns around, sees the “blood” and screams bloody murder.

As if we had just murdered my uncle and he lay twitching on the ground at her feet.

Are you fucking kidding me? ITS BEEN SEVEN HOURS! I hate this oven, I hate this house, I fucking hate this holiday.

We were all in stitches and this made her even more wild with The Crazy. She starts waving the carving knife at all of us while yelling at my father to put the fucking bird back in the goddamn fucking oven and he better be fucking buying her a new oven the next morning at 5 am or else she was getting a divorce. A DIVORCE. AND THIS IS NOT FUNNY, madly pointing the knife in our faces.

That’s when we were forced to tell her, through gasps and tears, that it was red wine. Not blood.

Her face then turned about the color of the red wine and she placed the knife back on the table and walked out in the dining room to compose herself while the rest of the family lay on the floor in hysterics.

I think now she can laugh about it (like…10 years later). But it was a touchy subject for a while there. Especially after how many “fuckings” she used. And how she almost murdered her entire family over a turkey and a little bit of red wine.