SWF seeks.....Blog#4: The Lawyer Part Deux

I said that I would see The Lawyer again, and I did. After work, I met him down in his neck of the woods (yes, I know that we should have met in a brightly lit, public place, but he has a dog and you know how I feel about dogs). The Lawyer's dog, a freaking Bull mastiff (the last time I saw one of those it was licking its own pee), is the biggest puppy I have ever seen. Ever. I love all dogs, but this one reminded me of a horse and I don't like horses, so I didn't know what to think of her. Then, all she wanted to do was lick my face and nuzzle my boobs, and before I knew it she had me won over.

Don't worry, there was more to this date than puppy action. I learned that The Lawyer is driven, funny, pretty insightful and very self-aware. He told me why he liked me and it included my extreme intelligence, hot body and how fun I am. Not only did it elude to my brains, but also my boobs. How could you not hang out with someone like that? And there was something endearing about him getting really excited when he thought my earrings looked like the Scales of Justice (even though they were droplet shaped). A lot like how excited I get when I see big pipes on the side of the road.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

modern life is war has just jumped onto my favorite band list. listen to DEAD RAMONES and just try not to love it, assholes.

p.s. they are on tour.

FUCK YES!

i hope while you read this post, you take a minute to pull out a cigarette and light it.

philadelphia has kept my heart once again. the senate passed a very pussy smoking ban, one of the weakest in the nation from what i know.

In a 33-17 vote that broke along philosophical rather than partisan lines, the Senate passed a "clean indoor air policy" that would ban smoking in most public places but carve out at least a dozen exemptions - from casinos to certain bars to nursing homes - where people could still light up.

the senate released this statement along with the ruling: "due to numerous threats of nuclear attacks from a very pale girl with red hair, we were forced to waffle on this legislation."

STAND UP FOR YOUR RIGHTS!

Bonnaroo 2007

Two words: Painfully Beautiful. Bonnaroo has always been known as a hippie fest and yes, it was partly that, but it didn't belay the purpose of the whole thing: Brotherhood. Oh (G)od I said it. NO, I AM NOT BECOMING A HIPPIE!! I am just saying that the air of togetherness at Bonnaroo is unlike anything you will ever experience. There were approximately 80,000 people there, 50 bands, a bunch of vendors, greasy food, beers, and everything that you might expect from a festival.

I had signed up as a volunteer and was supposed to work three shifts of six hours. When you get there, you don't know what you will be doing or what times will be scheduled to you. Turns out that I got three shifts. One checking volunteers in, and two others working in the wireless tent. Dude, get this. They have an AIR CONDITIONED tent with about 18 community computers set up so that you can check your email. Who would want to check their email instead of listening to The White Stripes, I don't know. Eh, to each his own. As a volunteer you put down 250 bucks (the price of a ticket) and when you finish your shifts they pay the money back to you. You get free camping, showers, and "meals." Of course, me being Erin, I wasn't going to actually WORK. Work instead of listen to music and drink tequila?! I think not. In the end, I only ended up working three hours. Onto the good stuff.

First off, it was hotter than a whore in confession and stickier than the floor of the booth. We got lucky because we were camped right next to this cute little home where a nice couple lived and were providing showers. You could walk right over, spend two bucks, and give everyone a little show. Okay, it wasn't that bad, but it WAS just a tarp hanging in front of two shower heads spitting out arctic water.We were camped about a mile away from all the stages and tents ("Centeroo") so it was quite a walk, but a walk that you could bring BEERS with you on. On the way there were all sorts of booths set up selling glass pipes, bongs, water, soda, jewelry, clothing, pizza, corn dogs, dresses, merch, and anything else you can think of. Oh, and POT. Marijuana EVERYWHERE. It was a hippie in denial's (me) dream come true. Even the main Bonnaroo staff were found to be hiding in corners with their glass pieces, choking on smoke and smiling in the heat.

As you walk, people are hooting and hollering for no reason at all. This is part of what I love. You'll be walking down a dirt path and all of a sudden someone will scream "YAAAA BONNAROOOOOOOO!!!!!" and everyone in earshot will scream back "FUCK YEAH DUDE!!! BONNAROOOO!!!!!" There is nothing better. Onto the best part. BANDS. This is who I saw:

Mute Math: This was the first band that I saw and though it was not my type of music, DAMN, the women that this band attract. There was the hottest little pixie chick dancing right next to me with a group of her friends. I didn't really think much of it until I noticed that she kept rubbing up against me and trying to dance with me. So RIGHT as I was about to make my move, I WAS PUSSY BLOCKED!!! YES FOLKS, THIS SO CALLED MYTH IS TRUE!!! There IS such a thing and it happened to me!!! I will not disclose who this person was, but I could tell that he kept trying to move me so that I wasn't behind her anymore. I was so high that I didn't even do anything about it. WTF DID I DO THAT?! I should have kicked him in the balls!!!

Clutch: I respect Clutch. I really do. And I constantly TRY to like their music. And I do. I enjoy the musicality of it all. I love the bluesy velvety rock that they produce, but I CAN'T STAND that guys voice! It's horrible! So I stayed for a few songs and kept walking.

Rodrigo y Gabriela: FLAMENCO METAL! I SHIT YOU NOT! Check 'em out.

THE ROOTS: Holy mother fucking hell. How in the SHIT do I explain The Roots live show? It's pretty much impossible. All I will indulge is the list of bands that they covered. Check it: Bob Dylan, Salt n' Pepa, Sir Mix A Lot, Deep Purple, Snoop Dogg, James Brown, The Police, Biz Markie, TWO LIVE CREW! FACE DOWN ASS UP!, MIMS, Wutang, and ODB. In addition, there was a 30 minute bass jam and a separate 30 minute guitar/vocal jam. There must have been 15 artists on the stage. Respek.

Tool: Tool did just about what I expected. The same old fucking setlist. I do have to say that I love 10,000 Days though. That song is just so beautiful, it makes me want to fucking dissipate into a pile of tiny champagne bubbles or something. I can't even think of a way to describe it. Near the end of the set, Tom Morello came out and played a little bit and that was crazy. It's like hearing a little bit of Rage mixed with TOOL. Hmm. BUT... Here comes the over the top amazing part... DUN DUN DUN... THEY FUCKING PLAYED "FLOOD." FLOOD FLOOD FLOOD FLOOD FLOOD FLOOD.

Ziggy Marley: Good, but not as good as I was expecting. He did two Bob songs.

Franz Ferdinand: They were good. I think? I was lying on the ground letting the tequila melt into my body and glue me to the ground.

The Police: One word: Eh. I watched four songs and left. I wasn't impressed.

GIRL TALK: I can't speak, I can't breath, I can't even remember the show it was so fucking good. I don't remember what he said, I don't remember what I said, I don't remember leaving, I don't remember what was on stage, I don't remember the lighting, I don't remember not remembering. This is what I DO remember. I walked over the the tent wicked early, I wanted a good seat and I wanted a nap. I woke up shivering and walked to the front. I started drinking a backseat potion of tequila, some lemon shit, and something else. It tasted like battery acid. I couldn't finish it, so I gave it to someone else. I smoked a joint. The next thing I remember I am getting lifted in the air and back down.. Lifted in the air and back down. Lifted in the air and back down. Sweaty bodies screaming, the smell of ivory soap and pheromones, people everywhere, huge inflatable champagne bottles, tons of people onstage and the man himself. Mr. Talk. I tried to leave early so I could see the Lips, but I physically couldn't. It was like the laptop was a huge magnet, pulling me back. Good times.

Flaming Lips: Jesus, it just keeps getting better and better. This show was so high energy yet so peaceful and sad. I walked in halfway through their set, so I won't say much. I'll just say what I saw. Laser light pointers. EVERYWHERE. I guess the band had given them to the first ten rows. Huge inflatable orb looking balls floating all over the crowd, varying in size. They played Tangerine! Wayne Coyne. Vocalist? Is that his name? What a sentimental bastard. He was being so sweet. I won't try to put into words what he said. It was just beautiful. Glitter and confetti.

White Stripes: **GROAN OF SEXUAL FANATICAL WONDERFUL PAIN** Can I please have all of Jack White's babies? Even though he is a pretentious bastard? This guitar God. I can't take it. I just can't take it. A cute hippie guy with his girlfriend kept staring at me. I teased him. I pretended not to notice that he was staring at me. He had dreads. God, I love boys with girlfriends. Uhh, by the way, who is going to buy me "Icky Thump?" I need it.

Pluses, minuses (there aren't really any), and inbetweenuses:

• $2 showers, getting naked in front of people I don't know and whom I will never see again
  
• Yellow bus, spraypainted on the side: MISSING TWO DOGS - ONE BLACK, ONE BROWN
  
• DDDDDDDDDDDDDUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
  
• "I smell patchouuuuliiii.." - Maynard
  
• Rich saw Mr. Hanky in one of the porta potties. He loves me and I love you.
  
• Josh and Ben, our neighbors
  
• Microbrew: 420 Ale
  
• "Ugh, its raw in there! It's like a toe vagina!" - Rich
  
• Dill Corn Pops
  
• I volunteered?
  
• America.. FUCK YEAH!!!!!! Sunblock flag on Rich's back.
  
• Kim (hearts) tequila and pizza. Together. And purging?
  
• Guy with dreads standing on the side of the road watching the passersby, empty handed except holding a beer bong. Words written on his chest and his back: "HELP ME GET DRUNK." I didn't have a beer to spare.
  
• We saw a car accident as we were leaving. Written on a dusty car: "We got hit."
  
• Rich got high with the drummer of Tea Leaf Green. He was in the VIP area. Smartypants.
  
• Fountain incident. That's all I'm saying about that. Rich? Kim? Didn't think so.
  
• Spare a nug?
  
• Dr. Evil was the name of our campsite
  
• Bovine Rune
  
• Rich tied a cherry stem with his tongue
  
• Guy running from security. Loses his shoe! Turns back to get it and the security guy just stands there with a huge metal flashlight in his hand. Is faced with the perp. Freezes. Perp gets away. Everyone laughs and goes back to business.
  
• Bohemian Rhapsody
  
• Rich turns to me during the Tool set. "What song are they going to play next?" I totally called it. Can you guess the song?
  
• Rich learned how to sleep standing up. And he did it in the middle of a show. My hero.
  
• Sneezing, snotting, laughing, crying, choking, smiling, smoking, drinking. Debauchery and complete hedonistic behavior. **sigh**

does not play well with cabbies

I only take cabs when I am drunk. Just because I feel too lazy about not walking or taking the T to take a cab when I am sober. Unfortunately, I have realized that I become a complete bitch to cabbies once drinking. This means I have to leave the conspiracy theorist in me at the curb and convince myself that the driver is not trying to screw me out of my money and drive me the long way home. This worked overtime last night.

After my ride and thrilling convo with Ubi; a 67 year-old Nigerian great-grandfather with 4 kids (one of which is 25, single and lives in the South End, Ubi asked for them and I was about 2 seconds away from giving him my digits to give to his son), 4 grand kids, and 2 great-grand kids, who when he was younger was a cabbie, then went to school to get his undergraduate degree, 2 masters degrees and then worked high up at a financial institution (some of the details are fuzzy), retired from there and is now a cabbie again part-time because he loves it, and his worst customers are black people (not joke, he said that); I realized that the combination of beer, then RDCs, then beer, may be the perfect concoction to keep me cabbie friendly at the end of the night.

I think I totally gave him a $10 tip, because I was so happy with myself for being so far up his butt and not an asshole. And I was actually interested at the time. I am still not sure if we went the fastest way home though.

"goddamn crazies!"

these two pieces of hot mess are currently "taunting the police" at their New Hampshire home/compound where they are holed up because they refuse to pay taxes.


i just love this picture. first of all, they are totally wanted criminals but they are HOLDING A PRESS CONFERENCE FROM THEIR HOME (who gets away with that!?) and on top of it, he's all "you can't take us alive! WORD!" and she's all "DOUBLE WORD" and i all stole those captions from my girl Shelly but you get the drift. the neighbors have told the press that these two are "goddamn crazies"!

these two are gonna go down on the tax-tip all bloodied up. i give it about three days before the police take them up on that "you won't take us alive" schtick. WACO REMIX!

HEY BITCHES!

I don't care if I sound psycho or if I'm making a big deal over something YOU may think is nothing...but I swear I flip out when people swipe my lighters. I'll bite my own mom's head off over that shit - at work, when ppl ask to use my lighter, I make them leave a valuable posession with me (i.e. watch, car keys, wallet) and trust me, ppl bring that shit right back. This goes out to everybody who just can't wait for me to turn my back, those of you who are hiding in the corners, in the dark, rubbing your hands together and breathing heavy with the hope of taking the one thing that ensures I'm happy whenever I need to be...FUCK YOU!

i'm very smitten

sometimes, i wish i had the cash flow to be a label whore. mostly only because i love chanel, even though i cannot afford any of it and have nowhere to wear it. the rest of the time, i hate trendy bitches who rock nothing but designer clothes to the supermarket. so i guess you could call me conflicted.

but thanks to sexy marc jacobs, i don't have to hide my tongue-in-cheek appreciation of all things fashion. this sweet tote bag not only mocks the designer obsession of layering an accessory with your own logo, but is also afforable enough for even the poorest wanna-be to make a fashion statement.

this little bit of amazing is only TWELVE DOLLARS if you can find it in a Marc Jacobs store. otherwise, you can do it up like me and get it for $26! hey, it's still cheaper than a damn andy warhol by loop bag!

Joey Potter, why do you let me down?

Ok, I love Joey, I mean, Katie Holmes as much as the next 20-something year old. On Dawson’s Creek, she was the girl next door who was best friends with the hot boy neighbor, she entered his house through a ladder into his room, and eventually started dating the hottie (and his even hotter friend). I related to her, I loved her, I was her (minus the hot guy best friend and two story houses in my neighborhood).

Ever since Tom Cruise’s crazy Scientology self got near her, the girl has gone downhill. Zombie eyes, robot-like responses, getting knocked up. I was starting to give her a second chance though: her baby’s pretty cute and I thought she might at least be thinking about leaving Tom.

Then she goes and does this:

HIGH HEELS on the BEACH!!! It’s over now. I will no longer stop to watch your repeats.

get your wallets out, ladies!

i've busted more pairs of sunglasses than moves on the dance floor. so when my friend pointed me in the direction of Forever21 when i was in search of replacement shades, i was all over it. and for FIVE BUCKS A PAIR and SO MANY DAMN STYLES, you should be too. this is cheaper than buying a pair of chanel knock-offs on the street. i might buy a few extra pairs just to break them in half with my BARE HANDS!

SWF seeks.....Blog#3: The Lawyer

So, one benefit of doin’ it on the internet, is that it is a lot easier to date in real life too. I have never in my life picked up a boy in a bar, but after putting up myself out there on the internet, it seems that I am on fire.

I was at the bar on two Tuesdays ago for a Ketel One Vodka tasting (that stuff is amazing, well worth the extra money to be able to drink it straight out of the bottle, no joke, it’s that smooth and I am not only saying that because they gave me free drinks). That’s where I met The Lawyer. We ended up talking most of the rest of the night (and by night, I mean it was still light when I stumbled out of the bar to get home).

The next day got the “Nice to meet a UMass alum, that was fun, we should do it again” text (even after telling him before leaving the bar that I was not going home with him, nor was he coming to my house) and he wanted to go out that Thursday. I was busy Thursday, so we ended up going out last week.

It was my first time on a date with a lawyer, and here is the summary:

• yes, my friends were right and he does not have blonde hair like I thought he did (darn vodka goggles)
• yes, he is a little out of my age range (it’s like being back in Hermosa Beach where you can’t tell anyone’s age until you see their ID; and see my point above)
• yes, he was a little quirky (think Alan Shore)
• yes, he was a little slimy, but teddy bear-ish (think Denny Crane)
• yes, I am intrigued
• yes, we are going out again this week

time machine??!?!??!

some fuckers down in oklahoma just dug up a car they buried 50 years ago as a time capsule. the car was basically ruined, and the story basically sucks. until you hit THIS gem of a paragraph:

From the trunk, organizers pulled out some of the objects buried to celebrate Oklahoma's 50 years of statehood -- a 5-gallon can of leaded gasoline, which went for 24 cents a gallon in those days, and rusted cans of Schlitz beer.

The contents of a "typical" woman's handbag, including 14 bobby pins, lipstick and a bottle of tranquilizers, were supposed to be in the glove box, but all that was found looked like a lump of rotted leather.

LEGENDS ARE MADE OF THIS STUFF! I'M LIVING IN THE WRONG TIME PERIOD! mandatory tranquilizers must return as a staple of womanhood!

i'm adding approximately 14 bobby pins, a tube of red lipstick and a bottle of Valium to my bag immediately. i suggest you all do the same. it's especially delicious on top of vanilla ice cream. i'm just saying!

I heart my Grammy

I love my Grammy. N0t only because she is the coolest person over 75 that I know, but everyone thinks she looks great for being in her 60s (I so hope it's genetic), she attends more happy hours in a week than I do, she has at least one boyfriend at all times, has a gaggle of gay guys she hangs out with, and I am also her favorite (at least in my mind).

I just spent the weekend with my Grammy, who is in town from Palm Springs, CA. She is so hot that although she is in Boston for the week, she could only fit my mom, sister, and me in over the weekend as she was otherwise booked. I wanted to share with you a few of the hillarous things that she said this weekend:

Grammy on the swerving driver on 128 south: "I bet can't stay within the lines of his coloring book either."

Mom to Grammy: "You have nothing in your fridge in the kitchen. Why would you even need a full sized fridge in your garage? Is it even on?"
Grammy: "Yeah, it's plugged in and on."
Mom: "Well, do you even use it?"
Grammy: "Of course I use it, it's for my beer."

Mom: "So I asked your sister to get a bathroom towel for her boyfriend. Then she went over and asked him if he wanted to take a shower. Who cares if he is going to take a shower. Give him a towel anyways."
Grammy: "Yeah, give him a towel. He could want to take a shower. He could need to wash his balls."
Mom/Deb is unison: "Mom/Grammy!"
Grammy: "Come on, after watching one and a half hours of Kathy Griffin, what do you expect?"

I can't wait until she comes back out in August.

wamp wamp

last night i got a sweet little text message from Miss Erin, our Bitch Parade Bonnaroo correspondant. Apparently she was knee-deep in sweaty men during the Girl Talk set. she's jazzed as shit to come back with reviews, pics, and overall brilliance. i'm actually beyond jealous and shaking with booze withdrawl anticipation!

SWF seeks.....Blog#2: The 1st Date

So, BartNoPazazz winked at me and then immediately followed with an email. I liked his style, he meant business. So, we emailed, then we IM-ed, then he told me that if I felt comfortable, I could call him. I said to him: "I am new at this, is this how it really happens?" He comforted me and said: "sometimes." That was good enough for me, we talked on the phone.

Well, we decided to go on a date (it was last Saturday, I am so behind on these blogs). Nice, my first internet date. We kept it laid back and did an afternoon date (yeah, I had to explain to my boss what this meant, basically, we had lunch at 2:30). So, we're talking and eating and I am realizing that we are having the same convos that we had already had. Then he's talking and I am not listening (because I have already heard it and it was not that amazing the first time) and I am realizing that there is absolutely no chemistry between us.

No chemistry at all. When we left he was trying to walk closer to me and doing the whole brushing up against me thing, but I was not feeling it, not even remotely. It is the first time that I have ever been around a boy, that I was potentially dating, and totally had no desire to jump his bones. Not even a kiss. He told me to call him....yeah, I'm not gonna to do that.

summer lovin'

The absolute best way to stay refreshed this summer is to just be too drunk to care you're sweaty. Tis the season for delicious fizz and sweet sweet tangy candy clear booze. Here are my faves for summer '07 - tres yummy and highly acclaimed. Bottoms up ladies!

BJ.....hehe

Now, tell me this isn't ironic:

"ATLANTA - A Georgia judge ordered the release Monday of a man sentenced to 10 years in prison for consensual oral sex with a 15-year-old girl when he [Wilson] was 17, a sentence that had been widely criticized as grossly disproportionate to the crime."

"Wilson's lawyer, B.J. Bernstein, said she plans to apply for a bond to release him while the appeal is pending."

Yahoo must be playing with us. This poor kids attorney's name can't really be BJ. What an unfortunate twist of fate. I bet the kid got 10 years because the judge was up to his eyeballs in BJ talk. Ok, I admit, it made me chuckle when I read it. BJ....

Thanks Yahoo News

Relationships

This was a blog posted on MySpace. I read it and fell in love.. Get this: his display name is "666Fuck You666"

Being alone is empowering. Most couples never get shit done; they pour all their energies into each other and their relationship. And most are also obscenely square and boring. Think of all the talented people you know who haven't ever done anything worthwhile with their gifts, or who have some feeble, half-assed creative endeavor that barely exists or sucks, one that is a desultory adjunct to a completely conventional work-a-job life, and then think how many of those people are also married or in serious long-term relationships. Most, if not all.

When people couple up it gives them an excuse to be lame, an excuse not to push themselves, because they're too busy playing grown-up with their amazingly important grown-up relationship. This leads to other retarded, creativity-destroying grown-up activities like spawning filthy brats or having a square career or buying a late-model four-door car (aka "soul suicide") or getting serious about the quality of one's furniture. These people are dead. They are the walking dead, and like zombies in a zombie flick they may look and sound like the people they once were or could have been, but in fact are only ghastly sinister undead mockeries of their younger, more potential-having selves.

Take a moment or six hundred to contemplate the nearness and finality of your death. It's coming straight at you like a fucking rocket, roaring down from the sky at you with incalculable speed, homing in closer every tick of the second hand. It is completely unavoidable and the only truth common to human existence. Sooner or later the entire cosmos as you construe it, the entire world that you see and experience, will absolutely cease to be with an irrevocability and totality that your mind cannot conceive. It will be the most profound experience of your life, the terminal experience. And it will come whether or not you found true love.

Love is hiding from reality, from ourselves and from life, It's wonderful but it's meaningless. Love is a lie we tell ourselves. I have been reading Proust's "In Search of Lost Time," another activity that being in a relationship would definitely prevent (the time commitment), and old Marcel pretty much has it right when it comes to love, as well as many other things. We don't ever really love someone, we love the inaccurate, personally significant image we construct of that person, and the reciprocated love he or she feels for us is as false as our own. But you know what ISN'T false, ironically enough? What we create, what we build out of our own imaginations. I could go on for a few more paragraphs about that but I'll spare you. Anyway: Love is very nice, semi-divine even, but it distracts from the ultimate aloneness that is the core of human experience. Even if you're not shitting out babies or getting a mortgage, even if you're queer or in a relationship with a robot or a horse or whatever, you're still in some subliminated way acting out the biological so-called imperative. You're just being meat. And you already are meat, so why wallow in that? Why not use whatever tiny allotment of life remains to you to do something a little loftier?

"PRAYIN 4 U"

i don't give a flying fuck about paris hilton or what happens to her. it's all irrelevant. however, DListed has been posting hilarious pictures of people who support her and i cannot stop cracking up over them. the spiderman one is MY FAVORITE THING!




i need to get out of america. STAT.

SWF seeks.....Blog#1: The Set Up

Ok, so it is official. I have finally given in to every one of my single, in committed relationships, married, and already doing it friends, and started internet dating. For real. Like I paid money to join and there is a picture of me out there tempting boys to write to me.

It all started 3 weeks ago, when my friend BettsHottie331 told me that she was having tons of luck internet dating and mentioned again that I should do it too and reminded me that she would even help me set up a profile. Then she said we could do it at her house, her roomie would be trying it for the first time too, we would bbq meat, and I could do it while drinking. She had me at the booze. And then I realized I could blog about it.

So, the next weekend I rolled in to BettsHottie331's place and waited for the inevitable. We ate amazingly cooked meat (thanks HawaiianCutie89) and drank potent refreshments (gotta love that BettsHottie331 is not a big drinker so she just threw the whole bottle of vodka in, she's totally a keeper all you single boys). Then we all sat down with our laptops and got to dating.

Well, I soon realized, that my ad was going to be harder to make than I thought. Trying to be funny, honest, self-deprecating, and alluring all at once, while not showing that I am a boozer in order to make a good first impression, was really hard. Needless to say, I completed the task (and pretty well I think, I'd do me) and then waited to see what would happen (because I was too chicken to take the first step and "wink" at any boys).

Since that Saturday night, I've been viewed 133 times, received a bunch of winks (no thanks FunTimes45: a 45 year-old man who obviously goes to Thailand to sample the young goods, or LookingForAHookUp29: self explanatory), a couple of emails, I have even gotten the courage to send some winks, and "Blog#2: The 1st Date" is already in the works. Gotta love the www.

frozen happiness

Everyone else seems to be posting about things they love, nail polishes, music, bags, not working. Well, since I am extremely hungover and still at work on a Friday in the summer when we are allowed to leave at 3pm, I will try to brighten my spirits by posting about something I found and now love:

Turkey Hill's Fat Free Chocolate Cherry Cordial Frozen Yogurt!!! This shit is the bomb!! Seriously, it actually tastes good and I really thought that it may not be yogurt, but ice cream in disguise.

Listen to what it contains within that little frozen box of goodness: "zesty maraschino cherries and plenty of chocolate fudge mixed throughout amaretto-flavored chocolate fat free frozen yogurt."How could it get any better?!? I only picked this hottie up because the one time I went grocery shopping this month, it was actually hot outside and this was on sale. Best purchase of the year.

I love me some maraschino cherries. I have even been known to eat every one in sight. One time in college a friend and I ate the whole bowl of maraschino cherries from the bar that they were using for the drinks at the Hippodrome (yes, that is what de' club in Springfield, MA is called) and the bartender just stared at us. Yup, I think my fingers were dyed red for like a week.

On Losing My Job...

The past few years my job has been touch and go to say the least. I always loved the people and the company I was working for, but lets just say it was never the most stable environment. Well kids, the day has finally come when I pack up my cubicle, say goodbye to my interns and go home to face a new dawn of unemployment, job searching and thoughts of grad school. (oh, and xanax!) I have never been laid off before, and have not been without a job since before I had one at age 14.

When I was working, sitting in my little cube, I often wondered what other people that were not working did all day. And why weren't they working anyway huh? Lazy bums, living off of my tax money. I knew there were people out there around say 2:30, just hanging out. No kids, not in school, not at work. Did they go to the beach? Maybe the movies? Did they stay home and look at porn all day? I had no idea. Whenever I got too curious my boss would always show up behind me blah blahing something that I didn't really want to hear, and didn't necessarily care about.

Now I join those porn obsessed, beach-going movie watching bums. And, I have to be honest. I've never felt more emancipated in my life. So far I have gone to the gym, planted some flowers, cleaned the house, did laundry and some other piddly housewifey things. It feels great! Everyone should get laid off! (well, not EVERYONE, as that would cause a major problem) Monday I will file for unemployment, and the job hunt has already begun. This is a new adventure for me. I will keep you posted!

First task of today: Buy more beer.

killadelphia

for the last few months, my mom has been referring to iladelph as Iraq. it turns out she was kind of correct, according to the FBI.

Among the top 10 cities, Philadelphia reported the highest violent-crime rate last year, up 5.9 percent. Nationwide, violent crime increased 1.3 percent last year over 2005, according to the FBI's annual survey of 11,723 law enforcement agencies. Violent crime includes murder, rape, robbery and aggravated assault.

"It's a disturbing statistic, we're very concerned about it, and we're going to do everything we can to reduce it," Police Commissioner Sylvester M. Johnson said yesterday.

it turns out i moved back to philly just in time to get shot in the face. but i guess there is a slight sense of pride in the fact that philly beat out NYC, Vegas and LA in violent crimes. but then there is also a small sense of terror and an irresistible urge to bless myself with the sign of the cross before i get out of my car and head into murder city. but hey, what the hell, i guess these statistics aren't for manayunk. right? RIGHT??

Alcoholics Anonymous

I KNOW, I KNOW!!! Most of you are thinking "ohhh fuuuck, what a downer!" But I am here to prove you wrong.. I know that AA gets a bad rap. Everyone makes fun of the twelve steps, everyone thinks AA people are religious zealots, spiritual freaks, hippies, maybe they eat babies?

Yes, I will admit that the alcoholics in the program act like that sometimes (sans eating babies), but if you have an alcoholic in your family, you might be able to level with me. AA has saved my dads life. It has also saved my family's life. Another thing I love about the program is that it is open, sincere, and accepts everyone. There are a lot of people in AA who aren't religious at all. The step says "we made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him" meaning that you can be spiritual in any way that you want, if at all.
So every year on Memorial day weekend, my family gets together and goes to an AA get together called "Woody's Pig Roast" and every year there is a different theme. The first time I went in 1999 it was "Pigstock" and this year it was "Hogwarts." What makes this camping trip fucking amazing are only a million different things. I will name a few:

• 5,000,000,000 gallons of the best coffee you have ever had in your life
• Hot bikers EVERYWHERE
• "Tent City"

• HUGE chili feed
• HUGE pig roast
• All age dances every night in the barn

• Campfires
• Happy, smiling faces everywhere you look
• Harley's roaring
• More cigarette smoking than you have ever seen in your life
• All night campfire meetings
• Love and fellowship

Every year I go and every year it keeps getting better. It's the best time that I have ever had not drinking and the people that I meet there every year amaze me more and more everytime I go. Like my biker friend Robert who got in an accident about 9 years ago. He lost his short term memory and tells the same jokes over and over. I heard this one 8 times this year and 5 times last year:

"Hey, did you know that they are coming out with 'Divorce Barbie?'"

"They ARE?!"

"Yeah, she comes with all Ken's shit"

His favorite thing to do is to look at you right in the eye, smack himself on the side of the head and watch in delight as you scream in horror when his right eye shifts toward his nose.

I suddenly need a drink.

an open letter

dear dan deacon,

you are going to be famous very, very soon. rolling stone, spin and all the other BS magazines are starting to review your latest release, Spiderman of the Rings. your shows are already packed with insane art students, cokeheads and dance fiends. watching you construct your songs like a kindergartner constructs a macaroni sculpture is enchanting and worthy of a great rump shaking.

the fact that we cannot understand most any of your lyrics is not enough to thwart our love of you. your music is quick to jump from fast insanity to bittersweet crescendos created by the recorded sounds of a cat in heat combined with the ring of a cell phone. we thought no one would understand you. we were wrong. you have mastered the future shock genre to a T, and we cannot wait to see you live again. even if you are going to be more famous than girl talk.

love,
bitch parade

P.S. by the way, that time that you played on NBC with your zipper down was absolutely clutch.

songs to love: Wham City, Big Milk, Crystal Cat, Woody Woodpecker

hey danielle steel: FUCK YOU!!!

one of the things that makes me angry enough to punch you in the face is the scene that greets me whenever i enter a bookstore. the shelves are lined with trashy romance novels dressed up as literary fiction. sometimes the covers are tricky; they might look slightly artsy and you might be intrigued enough to pick up the novel and read the back. inevitably, the book turns out to be some sort of chick lit-bullshit, a story based on a woman in a big city trying to find love, sex, and the perfect manicure. or else it's a story about a divorced woman trying to find love, sex and someone who will adore her son from her first marriage. basically, it's heaps of bullshit and it really upsets me that there is enough of a demographic in the world that these stories are considered "books" and are even published. and you know what, don't call it "beach reading" either. guess what? i don't start reading R.L. Stine books just because i'm on vacation, so stop reading Danielle Steel and pretending it's just for the week, you whores.

anyway, when i saw the title THIS IS NOT CHICK LIT screaming off of the shelves at me, my fingers were twitching to pick it up. much like a junkie staring at a needle, i could not resist the urge. and it turned out to be an excellent indulgence.

filled with brilliant stories by amazing female authors, this book isn't about feminism in the least, but it does showcase the kind of work women can produce without relying on erotic sex scenes, cliche` plot lines and sub-par themes. every single one of these pieces explodes off of the page and proves that women who spend their days fascinating about their next love affair aren't the norm and shouldn't be published as such. GET INTO THIS, LADIES! THIS ONE IS A GEM!

"I'm still at the bank and Rick is still working at UPS"

Ok, so in an attempt to find pictures of Tammy Faye Baker (have you seen this? I am so sad cancer is kicking her butt), I came across this! The Nevada Class of 1981, and not the cool Nevada. Wow, look at the gem below.

"After graduation, I attended Iowa State University and received a B.S. in microbiology. I started working in research at Pioneer Hi-Bred during college and have been there, in different capacities, ever since. Currently I'm working in Food and Feed Research on different end-use applications for corn grain. I married Rick Zimmermann in 1989 and we have two girls...Maggie, 6, and Rachel, nearly 3. Rick works for Earthgrains as a sales supervisor..."

Can you imagine living in Iowa...wait, what state is IA? Is that Idaho? They are all talking about corn and grains a lot, it must be Iowa. Ok, ok, so I am a bitch for laughing at other people’s lives, but this is funny. “...end-use applications for corn grain...”? That’s hilarious. Right?