Friday, December 28, 2007


Okay, SALLYACIOUS, I get it, you are in LONDON.




Damn girl, I hope you are having a freaking awesome time.

However, it has now been over a year and I still don't know how to f*cking get my sexy on.


Damn Justin Timbrelake. C*ck Sucker. F*ck you. I don't think I'll ever figure out how to get my sexy on, I mean, I had a year and I still can't get it.

Did ANYONE figure out how to get their sexy on this year? Because I could use some guidance.

Stupid Justin.

I hate you.

Thursday, December 27, 2007

Post Party Wrap Up (And yes, I am the most paranoid dork ON EARTH)

I wish I could tell you that I made out with someone at my party, that people wound up naked in my pool and that I have blackmail pics to fund my retirement but no. Of the 25 invited guests eleven showed up. I think it is incredibly rude to RSVP for three additional guests and insist on bringing food only to cancel fifteen minutes into when the party is supposed to start but I guess I just must be old fashioned. Ah well.

We has some drinks, told some stories, and by 10ish people were already moving out. It lasted about three hours. I put lights on the tree and forced guests to decorate it for me. The tree looks fine, albeit horribly lopsided as after someone tried to "fix" it it started lilting to the left and fell over. I've secured it to the wall with nylons and picture screws.

I learned a few important things; I already knew that if you say six it means seven but now I know that even if someone totally RSVPs and absolutely gaurantees that they will be there this means nothing. I have learned that guest do no want veggies with dip, they want hot foods. I have learned that sodas look best if served in nice goblets, that real adults do not use plastic cups (damnit!) and that Oingo Boingo is more universal than I previously thought.

I'm still amazed at people. If they are asked to RSVP they won't. If they do they won't show and if they don't they will come with several friends and perhaps even small children. I just don't get it I guess.

Nothing got stolen. Nothing was broken. No one puked in my apartment. Overall? A success.

Now, if only I had gotten to randomly make out with someone. I guess there is always New Year's Eve.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

It turned out great

Am a dork.

A paranoid dork.

People actually showed up!


Trying not to cry

Okay, I know that six means seven but still. It is six thirty and no one is here.

The memorial sucked.

Someone who RSVP'd for THREE even though only she was invited just fucking flaked.

All the food is out.

All the candles are lit.

All the lights are out.

I'm going to cry.

No one is here.

9 hours and counting

'Til my soiree


I mean, no. I am a veritable mini Martha; calm, cool, level headed and liable to stab you if you so much as shoot me a sideways glance. I have a tree (If only I'd read Ms. Squirrel's comment first). I have wine glasses, a fair amount of booze, soft drinks, tea, coffee, mixers, gatoraide, milk and eggnog. I'm providing cheese, fruit, veggies, chips dip and some luncheon meats and demanded that other people bring hot foods.

My apartment isn't ready.

The food isn't totally ready.

I'm not ready.

My house is filled with food and there is nothing to eat for breakfast.

I'm terrified that no one is going to show up and I'll be left alone like an idiot and a loser trying to explain to maybe the one person that shows up why they were expecting a party and it is just the two of us. (I hope this one person is not male because I don't want them getting any ideas.)

Although, if you too are thrust into throwing a party filled with people you don't quite know, on a budget you don't have, in an apartment the size of a postage stamp then you too should call Maya and hysterically ramble for a few minutes. It helps. She is a wedding planner so I imagine she's dealt with socially phobic nut cases on a daily basis in her lifetime.

In the midst of this though life keeps trucking forward; I found out late last night that a relative lost her pregnancy pretty far along and there is a memorial today in just a couple of hours. I'm going to leave the pictures I planned to hang grouped on the floor as is, the kitchen floor is going to be swept instead of scrubbed and other little details will slide so that I may manage to make it to the church.

Hey Guys, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and hug your loved ones. (And pray, just a little for me, that at least five people show up.)

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Party at my place

Somehow I've been roped into having a holiday get together this weekend. In my tiny, tiny apartment. With my unmatched dishes.

I'm open to new things and if you've followed any permutations of my blog you know that having an active, healthy and exciting social life is one of my goals/dreams. However. I don't have a Christmas tree, a coffee maker much less coffee, bowls to put chips in, napkins, enough seating for over ten people (yikes!), soda, party food or a toilet seat that isn't cracked. I also don't have the money to buy any of these things.

I'm going to have to sell some of my blood at lunch or something today.

I also don't know how to entertain these people. Back when I used to throw huge holiday parties it was much easier; in high school and my early college years I just invited people, provided food, and let the fun begin. Now I have no idea what to do. Are people going to wind up hating me? Will I be known as the worst hostess ever? Will people awkwardly stand around since they don't know each other and may not get along and leave an hour after they came? What will I feed them? How will I afford to feed them? Is it okay to forgo the whole peel and eat shrimp, wine, cheese and fruit thing and instead order a few pizzas and tell them to bring their own beer? Most of these people don't really know the other people and I can't think of one dynamic funny person in the group so I don't know how to entertain people or ensure that they have a good time. Suddenly I know why there are libraries of books written on parties.

So while I am in the midst of total melt down freak out I am going to try to go shopping today and figure out a menu, pick up a tree, scrub the grout in my bathroom, wash my carpets, wrap all my Christmas presents, find some cheap wine glasses and a new toilet seat and oh yeah PANIC.

I bet other people are not as retarded as I am.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

I'm having a very hard time staying motivated with diet and excersize now that my office holiday party has come and gone. It is the season of bulky sweaters and some part of my mind is whispering that it is okay to be built like a mashed potato mound during the winter months. What this evil little part of my brain doesn't seem to understand is that the summer months follow right after the winter months and the fat doesn't see sunlight and just run away; it holds on for dear life.

On an unrelated note do you think anyone in the Spears family has ever heard of contraception? No? Gosh, me neither. You can take the girls out of the trailor but you can't take the trailer out of the girls I guess. I'm just so pleased that those little whores are inspiring a whole generation to pop kids out, forgo underwear, and then no take responsibility for their progeny. Yay pop culture!

Someone hand me a damn twinkee.

Friday, December 14, 2007

My subconscience might be a career-sabatoging whore

If I certainly don't plan to have anybody over tonight why did I clean my apartment?

If I certainly don't intend to show off any part of me other than my face and wrists why did I shave everything this morning and then choose hot lingerie to wear under my clothes tonight?

If I don't intend to do anything stupid at my office holiday party tonight why did I just drink a glass of wine before I'm ready to leave?

Why is my favorite perfume on?

Why am I wearing the jeans that make my ass look incredible?

Why did I put on liquid eyeliner and lip gloss?

Why do I have to keep reminding myself that my boss is married?



All I came home with was a hangover. I guess my conscience beat out my subconscience. Take that sub! I win!

Now if only they would get together and help me remember the night...

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Maybe I'll buy one for myself

For the first time in seven years I don't have a significant someone to buy a sexy argyle sweater vest for.

No one.

I'm rather into sweater vests, especially of the argyle kind. Slap in some glasses and graying hair and WHOOOOOOOO boy I'm knock-kneed and salivating. While doing my holiday shopping yesterday I stumbled across mounds of luxurious sweater vests displayed in nearly every store and felt, just a little, rather lonely and sad. Then I remembered that it is a good thing that I don't have a significant other in my life to buy one of these for because in the past seven years all the loves I've bought a sweater vest for have fallen out of my life, and now, alone, for the first time in my entire adult life, I am much happier than I've ever been before.

Someday I might again have a man to buy an argyle sweater vest for. He might hopefully be charming and funny, kind and compassionate, and understand my sense of humor. If fate likes me he will have glasses, be over six foot, and maybe, just maybe, have some gray at his temples.

Of course, I still may have surreptitiously buried my face in a pile of argyle sweater vests but that is between me and the security cameras that patrol the store.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Diet Delirium

How many days do you think I would have to go without eating to drop twenty pounds?

I know, I know. It is bad for my metabolism. I might just gain it all back. I'll be weak and shaky and nutty and semi delirious. It is stupid to do such a thing. The best way to lose weight is to aim for a pound or two a week while incorporating a sensible eating plan and regular exercise. I KNOW ALREADY.

But seriously, how many days? I mean, Nicole Richie and that blonde from that Blue Crush movie totally lost oodles of weight by not eating for only a few months. They went right down to svelte and sexy. Well, they went right down to that before they went skeletal but I'm not looking for skeletal: I'm looking for slender. Attractive. Not carrying saddle bags o' nacho cheese around my hips. Then of course I'll have to get breast implants since I don't have much on top to begin with and I imagine I may lose a bit of it during the no-eating process. I suppose I could get my forehead botoxed at the same time and just a little bit of lip plumping for good measure. My lips are nice, sure, but we're talking preventative now.

So what are we looking at here, three, maybe four months? That doesn't sound that bad at all. I'll be ready for bikini shopping by April.


Sunday, December 9, 2007

I still can't find my ironing board

Where have I been for over two weeks? Where you ask? Trying to find the re-arranged contents of my apartment and try to fit my life into a cohesive mesh with my fab new surroundings. Two friends got together, stormed my house last weekend and this weekend, and transformed my boxes of school work dating to the eighties and my piles of unwearable size zero clothes into a real, fabulous, and totally adult dwelling. People: We painted stuff. They hung curtains. I have a wine rack. It is amazing in here.

Unfortunately for all its swank poshness I'm having a hard time adjusting to my "new" place. I feel like I'm in someone else's very nice home and can't mess it up. I don't know where to put my makeup on anymore, I'm tempted to eat meals out in the hall of my building and I'm reluctant to even decorate for the holiday season because I just don't want to sully the goodness up. That, and I can't find anything. One would think that in a 600 square foot space there wouldn't be too many places to look for, say, your iron and spray starch but you would be both wrong and surprised.

During phase one of the Apartment Redevelopment Project, as I have just now decided to call it, the cat 5 network cable for my internet connection was mysteriously ruined so I lost internet connectivity. Four days later when my cell phone charger made a reappearance I was able to get back in contact with people but it took still several days more until I was allowed to install another network cable. You see, I couldn't just reconnect my PC, I had to have approval on placement, lighting, aesthetics and possibly lunar cycles.

I cannot complain, however, as I am now living the life of a *real* adult with place mats and everything. I even had a small get together last night with real people who admired the theme and then noticed my ugly dishes. My dishes are of the variety that my parents got for free from the grocery store utilizing some kind of antiquated stamp system that one reads about in history books. Among other things including the dishes now I need a computer chair, several lamps, art for over my couch and wall spackle. I may look into saving up for such luxury items after I sway the decorating duo from painting my place. I think it is enough that my bed is jacked eight inches up higher than it used to be, causing my knees an angry and unwelcome adjustment period, but paint is where I draw the line. I like white walls. My lease is up in May.

I can only hope to keep it clean and attractive a bit longer before I break down and do laundry, or worse yet, make a concentrated effort to find the new living place for my socks, my knitting and my mouthwash. Until such a time I am gingerly sitting on the floor near my couch, but not on it, and marvelling at what it feels like to have one aspect of my life in place.

Now then, what have all of you been up to?