This is the best story. It didn't happen to me, but I kinda wish it had. My friend Kelly just had her second child and in the hopes of not having more children, she and her husband decided that he should have a vasectomy.

They tell you (apparently) to bring along an athletic supporter for afterwards. Well, Kelly's husband forgot to get one before the operation so it was up to her to get it. She walked into the sporting goods store and went to the counter...and as it always turns out, just when you don't really want to see them, you run into former students! Yes, a former student was behind the counter and asked her if she needed any help.

Kelly blushed and said that she was looking for a jock strap for her husband. The former student seemed non-plussed but asked what size she needed. Kelly blushed again and thought before speaking, "He's about average, I think..." was her reply. You can imagine her embarassment when the former student/ now athletic supporter expert said to her, "It goes by waist size!" And all Kelly could say was, "Oh."

What do you give the friend who seems to have everything, who likes wine and is also a bitch (a lovable one of course)?? Well, I got her a bottle of Bitch wine. I'll let you know if she thinks it's as good as the packaging looks!

A little known fact--John likes to get drunk and clean. He does a really, really thorough job and cleans and organizes like a maniac. Apparently, this runs in the family. Last night I went out with my girlfriends from college. Ever see a 27 week pregnant woman at a bar? Well I was there tearing up the town...what? I drank water, the bars are smoke free and the music wasn't loud. I thought I could be there if I wanted to be (that being said, I got the stink eye from quite a few women...I'm guessing it's because I'm such a hot mama. Um, maybe).

So anyways, while I was downing water like nobody's business; John, his mom, sister and my niece had a rum and Coke party/dance party/cleaning party (heavy on all three). I have to admit...the place was getting a little run down and I just didn't have it in me to give it the full work over. I'll blame it on pregnancy but I never have it in me to give the house a thorough cleaning. Cleaning is someone else's work, I just live here--I do enough to keep people from talking about me, John's family KNOWS how to clean. Anyways, now I'm sitting in my perfect clean house. After getting over the initial embarrassment of them seeing the place in this state (I mean it was pretty bad in here), I relished in the awesomeness it is to have a nice clean house. They vacuumed my couch (who has the time for that!)! My stairs (you know how hard that is)! Things are clean that I didn't even know could come clean.

I'm getting them all drunk on a bi-weekly basis from now on. That's a promise.

I was waiting for my friend to drop by because she has something she needs me to take to a baby shower this weekend and I figured I'd do a little reading/ sunbathing while I waited. Just in case I didn't hear her ring the doorbell I put a note on the door telling her where I was...
She just came back to the deck to inform me that my note looks like it says, "I'm on the dick!" and then she said, "I wasn't sure what I was in store for once I came in the house, but then I realized that the "i" was actually and "e".

don't expect anything good.

I went to a birthday party this weekend for the first friend I ever had (30 years ago)...the only person I had anything in common with at the whole party was John.

Don't get me wrong, I had fun...but I have never been around more babies and children in my entire life. Honestly, they were swarming everywhere!

My one friend sent this message to us all today...below you will find our responses, of course, we aimed to allay her fears and to help her in the best way we knew how. That way was to discuss 90's trashy tv. I hope it worked.

I am getting a complex.
Several people lately have commented on how "thin" I am. It just was a topic of conversation in the office. It is really starting to give me a complex and make me think something is wrong with me.
Do I look too skinny and/or sickly and or frail?

The facts:
I have lost 2 lbs in the past few weeks. I have dropped down a pant size.
I have not tried.
I do not eat A LOT but I do not watch what I eat either.
I am in my healthy weight range for my height.

Honest thoughts please?

From Nik:

Honestly, I noticed you've lost a lot of weight. I however, didn't/don't think you have an eating disorder or that you look sickly. I don't think you should lose more weight though because then you might be too thin. You also could afford to gain a few pounds and still look great. What matters is what you think and if you are being healthy, you know your body and if you are eating enough.
Do you think you're losing weight due to stress? When I'm stressed I also tend to lose weight and am not as hungry cause I'm on edge. For other people it's the opposite.

From the original writer Kel:

I have been stressed for a long time now. Like since May
It is one thing after another
And I do tend to lose weight when I am stressed.
I do eat just not A LOT.
I dunno, I think I am okay but people commenting a lot is getting to me

I guess I will just watch and see if I keep losing or just maintain

From Nik again:

Yeah maybe just keep an eye on it and try not to lose anymore (not saying that you are trying to lose weight) I can relate, when I was in college my Junior year, [husband's name] and I had just broken up, my grandfather died not too long after and I lost almost 20 pounds. People kept talking about it, but I wasn't doing it on purpose. I was very paranoid about it and my roommate had a big talk about how she was concerned that I was losing so much weight. Similar to what you are saying, I ate, just not a lot and had basketball everyday so worked off what I ate really quickly. When I started to feel better I gradually put my normal body weight back on.

And scre* those old biddies in the office. What matters is that you're healthy. Just make sure you're taking care of yourself even though it's hard when things are stressful. Soon things will get better and you'll be feeling like your old self. And if you need me to beat anyone up for you, insurance people, office people, just give me a holla!

From me getting mushy:

awww...I love you guys. I love how Nik's ready to throw down for Kel. I feel safe, for when the old ladies say that I'm getting too thin--oh wait, that's not going to happen any time soon ;)

From Nik:
Yeah I'm a good friend to have on your side. A lot of jealous bitches hated my roommate in college, so when these little girls would come up and scream at her at the bar I'd stand right behind her like "is there a problem here" Then some of my basketball girls would then be behind me towering over me..needless to say the girls didn't have much to say to my roommate after that. I'm so bad ass, even though the last fist fight I was in was in 5th grade.


From Jules:

Yeah, I feel that.
Kel, keep in mind, some of it is jealous.
I wish the weight fell off me!
I tend to eat when stressed! ;-(

From me:
I would kill to look like you Kel, both pre and post pregnancy. And we all know what a rumor mill this place is anyways, they want it to be like Melrose Place. maybe you should go in and make out with [boss' name]?

From Jacks:

Hahaha. That was hilarious. And Melina, you should get amnesia and think that [co-worker who we make the punchline of every joke] is actually your husband.

From me:

he's not?? I was thinking that Ml could remove her wig to reveal her scars from where the doctors performed radical surgery.

From Jacks:

Haha. And maybe you and I could kill our arch nemesis, who was you ex-husband, and bury the body, only to later find out he wasn't really dead. Then he would torment you until you lost your mind.

From Ml:
don't forget about my evil twin.
She is much heavier than me and hasnt been seen in about 3 years.

From me:
PS. Jack Wagner, if you're out there. I still love you and I always will.

Which makes me think of another little TV show that's near and dear to my heart:

Thank you for being a friend

Traveled down the road and back again
Your heart is true your a pal and a confidant.

And if you through a party
Invited everyone you ever knew
You would see the biggest gift would be from me
And the card attached would say thank you for being a friend.

I went out to lunch today with my dear friend Cr who is pregnant and due in March (right around both of our birthdays!!). While we were happily munching on our food she filled me in on all the people who are pregnant...all I can say is that there is going to be a serious population explosion in Pennsylvania...I now have seven friends who are all pregnant and due in either March or April. Seven?!? That just seems a little unreal...

Cr and I have very different schedules and so we don't get to see each other as often as we used to. These are a few of the things that she said to me that had me giggling:

Cr:"I always wanted big boobs, but now I don't know why!?! Seriously, do your boobs get stuck under your armpit when you try to make a turn in the car?"
Me: "Umm, not so much."
Cr: "Maybe it's just 'cuz I'm not used to having boobs..."
Me: "Maybe?"

Cr:"I was thinking about if it's a boy, I'd name him Tristan...but then I realized that I can't name a baby after Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall. Seriously...I lusted after that man. I can't name my kid that!"
Me: " Yeah that doesn't sound like a good idea, unless you want to be on Maury in about 18 years."

"I wanted to name my baby Emily Rose if it's a girl."
Me: "What about that Emily Rose movie?"
Cr: " What movie's that?"
Me: "Oh...I don't know, the one where Emily Rose is possessed by the Devil."
Cr: "Huh?"
Me: "I never saw it but there's a movie called the Exorcism of Emily Rose."
Cr: "Geez..."
[pause]
Cr: " I don't care, I love the name Emily."

Cr: "They didn't bring two spoons for this brownie thing..." [waving her arm over her beloved brownie dessert]
Me: "That's ok, I didn't order it...you did. I don't really want any of it."
Cr: "Good, I didn't want to fight you for this brownie."
[after that, I kept my fingers away from the table so that they could not be gnawed upon]

Well, we all knew that it was going to come sooner or later...the single girls who used to go out on the town, get silly and drunk, meet boys, bring boys home to play, and then have laughs over brunch about it (damn, we sound like the stupid SITC ladies...we're nothing like them!! We dress well, we don't have any stupid fake accents and we don't sit around and make puns all day, I swear)...well, those girls are no more...and to be perfectly honest, I enjoy being retired more than you'd ever guess.

Cr was the first to drop. After a tumultuous relationship with her boyfriend, playing the on again/off again game they decided to stop playing games. They will be married two years, this coming September and all seems to be coming up roses for them.

Then there was me. Who would've ever thought that would happen? Well, I did as soon as I met John...but I'll save that mushy stuff for my anniversary blog. Needless to say, I'm as happy as a clam--that is, if clams get happy.

Now there's Chelle! She hemmed and hawed over this one. It's an age old story, where Chelle is Girl and her new husband is Boy. Girl meets Boy, Boy sleeps with Girl and doesn't call her for some odd reason. Girl decides, "fuck him, I'll find someone else!" and to be honest, she found a couple "elses" (not that there's anything wrong with that). Boy realizes, that he really does like Girl and pursues her like a hunter stalking his prey. Girl gets annoyed first, Girl tells Boy off and then she finally listens to what he has to say. Girl gets flattered; Girl realizes that she had just been putting up her defenses so that Boy wouldn't hurt her again. Boy and Girl date happily until one night Boy pulls out a sparkly ring and tells Girl that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. The End!

So apparently, that's how it goes here in the Cornfield...we meet the right one and we all drop like flies. Now...I'm taking applications for acceptable men for my one friend left...T. I will start the bidding at: she likes to drink, dance, tell funny stories, take stupid pictures of me (ones where I'm trying to eat her head when I'm drunk), sing loudly, laugh more than anything. Ohh and she enjoys having the best friend a person could ever have (me). Any takers?

John said to me the other night, "You know what's missing from your blog these days?" Without batting my eyes I said, "Random sex with anonymous strangers?" in the cutest most innocent way possible. He didn't even bother to acknowledge that question but continued on his own.
"No, you're missing your whole cast of characters."
"Like I said John, there's kind of problem with introducing new characters on the blog...it's called infidelity!" as I jokingly hit his arm. Again he just rolled his eyes and me and sighed in his patient and patented "How-Did-I-Marry-This-Dummy-Again?" sigh.
"No! You never talk about your old cast of people...I mean you still hang out with everyone, but you never fill people in on what's going on in their lives."
"Well HELLO!" throwing up my arms and stating,"My blog is about ME!" in a way that only an only child can.

But then I conceeded that he may, in fact, be correct. So...here goes:

Chelle- Remember her?? She was my cohort in many a Derek chasing excursion. She was the girl that I could talk into going out any day of the week by explaining carefully to her that we needed to "Seize the Day", granted, we never did anything more than "Seize the Booze". There was a time a ways back in the history of this blog where she was making out with boys left and right. Kissing co-workers, skinheads and cute men alike, but that's all over now! Chelle's getting married...in March! Whoo! Needless to say, Mr. Chelle-to-be does not know the contents of this blog, nor will he...ever...Chelle, that's my gift to you.

To explain how agreeable and amiable Chelle is ,it's necessary to say that on Saturday she accepted my offert to join John and myself at the bar...she joined up with us at 4pm...this was a pivotal hour. It became our mission to get Chelle drunk and therefore to get her fiance out and about to pick her up. I'm not sure why this was so important to us but we succeeded in our goals. And I'm sure that Rob wasn't all that pleased with us...particularly John and myself because after our many, many hours out and about we were truly blithering idiots. Luckily, I think our friends were so pleased to see us in our old haunts that they took good care of us and after eleven hours out at the bar (yes, you read correctly, we decided to go out at 12pm and we were delivered us safely back to our house (by our loveable designated driver) at 11 pm where I immediately went to sleep (read: pass out) and John (crazy man that I love) decided to do some drunken house cleaning. I woke up to a perfectly clean kitchen and bar with all the recycling lined up neatly on the counter. I honestly thought that Dobby the house elf stopped by.

Ml- remember this coworker, exciting friend extrodinaire? Ml was my partner in crime from many work happy hours where we trolled for excitement and boys--well as much fun and excitement as the Cornfield would allow us. Often times we found ourselves in weird situations like the time she played wingman for me and she ended up getting her toes licked by a gross married man...all the while drunken Ml forgot to look down and thought it was my dog. When she did realize who/what it was, she kicked him in the face and said, "Oops!" and then got out of Dodge. A lovely addendum to this story is that the "gross married man" also ended up being the bartender at John and my wedding reception. Ml was thrilled (and by thrilled I mean disgusted) that she had to see him every time she wanted precious liquor. So anyways, Ml is doing well...she is still trying to find the perfect man, but while on the elusive search she hangs out with some not-so-perfect (but oh so cute) boys in the meantime.

Coming soon... updates on E and my ever fun friend T.

Tell me that you adore me, hate me or are just so bored you accidently found me while looking for "Melina's boobs".

That is all...for now.

Last night was my turn to host the BCT meeting, BCT stands for "Bitches Coming Together". My friends from work and I created this idea so that we don't get burned out from our jobs. And here's what we do--we take turns hosting BCT and once a month we get invited to a friend's house--go along with some wacky theme, eat a delicious meal, get a little tipsy and laugh hysterically at each other.


Since my BCT turn fell around Christmas we turned it into a Pollyanna event. I got my friend Ml this year and since she's known for her wild "jump on the stage with the band" antics, I purchased her a one man band kit...she will now be running around with castanets--it makes me proud that I'm responsible for this. As my gift, I received a blockbuster card and...wait for it...a David Hasselhoff clock!! Whooo! My friends obviously know who they're dealing with.


On the menu last evening was beef tips and mushroom gravy, mashed potatoes, peas (corn for people who don't like peas...who are these people? They should be eliminated) and then I attempted to make a chocolate turtle skillet cake. There was a problem with that. First, I didn't have a skillet that I thought could withstand the heat of the over so I decided to forgo the skillet. My alternative?? I used a very deep glass bowl. Unfortunately, for me I had a little too much wine (oh my god!! have you ever gotten Smoking Loon wine?? The cork has "whoo whoo whoo whoo whoo 'cough' whoo whoo whoo" on it...I've never laughed so hard at a cork in my life!!) and my wine addled brain couldn't figure out why the cake wasn't cooking. So what did I do?? I served cake sludge of course!! People ladled out "cake" onto their plates in little brown puddles and chowed down as if it was the way it was supposed to be. I love my friends. They don't make me feel as inept as I probably am.


Proof that I can throw a good get together (Which by the way *rubbing knuckles on shirt* I was told that I have thrown the BEST BCT ever!) is that my friend Jackie got tipsy and wrote weird, funny, rambly messages to people which I found this morning as I stumbled around getting ready for work today. I have for you several exhibits of this behavior. *Names will be changed to protect the guilty.


Exhibit A

"K peed on the side of the road. B looks like she is a 40 year old Brazilian woman. When I come from Punjabi, you come pick me up."


Exhibit B

"Melina stop molesting B with the hook--you might pop her fake boobs. I wish you had more mushrooms for me. I will threaten you with a stick of pepperoni--you will love it. I saw you with my big meat loaf. One time I saw you at the supermarket and you had on purple panties. They weren't yours--were they M.E's (the super old lady who works with us)? Imagine if M.E had a peg leg. Cool--I know--I pictured it too.


Exhibit C

"B,

You are a really smelly bitch. Sometimes when I wear bras outside my clothes I take pictures for you. Matt is marrying you because you are a slut who gives head in the car and kitchen. Please don't fall down in the strip club because you have big boobs and little feet."


Exhibit D

J,

Open your mouth and let him in- Trust me, he will appreciate it. Remember when your anal beads got stuck in the potty (that never happened to J by the way)? You are my best black friend (She isn't black!). What do you love poles? I love them too. Let's go somewhere and get in a brawl. Don't worry , I got your back- Do you think we could win a fight- no weapons- just hand to hand combat?"



This just proves that it was a hilarious night AND that new mothers who are released back into the wild get a little nutsy when first reintroduced to the 'sauce'! I feel so lucky with my life right now...I have the best friends, the most wonderful husband, and an awesome dog. Never in my life have I been so content, so happy, constantly looking forward to what great thing is going to happen next. I feel all warm and flushed as if I were constantly tipsy and giggling.

We are the awesomest, I will not lie.
The other night at the bar, we got everyone to sing along with us to "Don't Stop Believing" by none other than the band known as Journey. Arms were pumping in the air, punctuating the lines as Steve Perry wailed. I wailed, the fat guy at the end of the bar wailed, even the town drunk picked his head off the bar and let out a, "Whooo oooh oooh oooooooo" at the right time.

An older woman walked up after the song started fading out. Ruining the afterglow of the moment she put her hand on my shoulder, "Don't you just love Steve Perry's tight jeans? I'd love them next to my bed."

*in silence I stared at her, unable to come up with an acceptable response and suffering from an involuntary flashback of me watching VH1 with my dad at the age of 7 and asking him what Mr. Perry had stuffed in his pants, that was making his "pants look funny"*

She continued. "Have you ever seen them in concert?" and not waiting for an answer began to regale me with the times that she's seen Journey and which one was the best show, which had the tightest jeans etc.

So besides that, it sure was fun to sing a cheesy 80's song with an entire bar. I'm going to continue to try to find songs that touch several generations to spark yet another sing along.

...actually I don't want anything this year. It's sad but I'm pretending that Christmas doesn't exist. I had one gift exchange and we were allowed to spend $20, and I spent exactly that...I never do that. If it has a $20 a limit, I'll easily hit the 50 or 60 dollar mark...easily. So broke ass...as I like to call myself spent exactly $20 (as you can see in the post below).

Our gift exchange was so much fun. Jackie's husband cooked us dinner and then headed for the hills (some undisclosed location...possibly a bunker). We stuffed our faces and then guessed our "secret santas"...and then we opened our presents.

I ended up with some skinny sharpie markers (like I asked for on my little email wish list) and an awesome shirt with a picture of Shakespeare and the phrase, "Prose before Hos" which makes perfect sense to me. Obviously, my santa loved me, and got me a pretty cool set of gifts.

Now, onto other pressing matters. I have to talk to a man about an alternator--because mine, dear friends, would like to leave me for the holidays. Bastard!

In about a half hour I'll be over at my friend's house for a gift exchange. Her husband has made us tons of awesome food, I'm bringing champagne and chambord and I heard there are going to be other fabulous items there.

The gift exchange is secondary to hanging out with seven awesome girls...we had to draw names and we were only allowed to spend $20 on each other. I picked my friend Jackie, for the second year in a row. I opted for the gag gift option. I got her a pill sized item that when she puts it under water it turns into a washcloth that says, "Wash away your issues". A bobblehead mouse thingy that you can put a different picture in the face...I of course, put my own photo in there. I also bought her a lovely peony scented candle.

Can I wait for my gift? No I sure can't...it could be interesting, we've added people to the posse that don't know me all that well. I'll let you know when I get back.

T and I went out to dinner to the local asian restaurant a mixture of Thai, Japanese and Chinese cuisine. Mmmm, it was soo good. I had not planned on going out after dinner and I thought I made that plainly clear with my outfit choice. Let's see, I had my glasses, a navy hoodie on (complete with pawprints on the sleeve that I mostly brushed off on my way out the door), old blue jeans and (gasp, no heels but...) my hot pink addias sneakers. After a delightful dinner...which lasted a total of 27 mins because we were both starving, T sweetly talked me into heading down to the FQB.

The FQB was not a happening place to be last night. However, that didn't stop T and I from laughing *ahem* cackling all night long...so much so, that other patrons made comments about it. To make our evening more exciting I reverted to my childhood and just picked on T all night. Here's a list of some of the things that I did:
1. I wrapped her scarf around her so that she looked either Muslim or a mummy and then took a picture of it. I added the caption "T is a whore." and then sent it to all of our mutual friends. Ha ha, I enjoyed that one. I would like to get it printed and make it my Christmas card.

2. I gave her a wet willy...because I know how much she hates having her ears touched and she said something about me loving Favorite Bartender, and that would've been fine (and typical playground banter) except that Favorite Bartender's girlfriend was there and her little almond eyes narrowed on me and I know that in her mind...I had been engulfed in flames. So T deserved the wet willy.

3. I used the word nipple into my casual conversations with her because I know how much she hates the word and it gives her the chills. Watching her cringe was marvelous. Sheer joy.

4. I made her little coaster notes while she was in the bathroom. Her coaster notes (by no means anything like the love notes written to Derek) went like so:
a. "T is useless" (sounds lame but we were discussing that now that the one boy who liked her doesn't like her anymore, the other boy doesn't seem to either...because he seems to only like girls with girlfriends--thus rendering T useless.)
b. 'The Cigarette Machines Do Not Vend to Idiots" (because she spent about three days putting the same crinkled dollar into the machine)
c. "T causes cancer in children and pets"

and so on and so on...we really had to entertain ourselves. Of course, I entertained T with my bumbling conversations with Favorite Bartender. Any time he came around to chat with us, I said something absolutely ridiculous. It was cause for amusement.

So aside from feeling naseous after Favorite Bartender made me the most horseradishy Bloody Mary of my lifetime, it was a fun laid back night. No cute boys around (aside from Favorite Bartender, who I hear wants to break up with his girlfriend...and in fact, HAS broken up with her a few times but she refuses to leave and then he caves) but it was completely fine--again, T and I had a great time.

Oh...and we found out that the teeny tiny bottle opener fits over my nose. T, actually tested it out on other bar patrons and as it turns out, I'm Cinderella. It doesn't fit over anyone else's nose. I wish I could say that this bar survey occurred because we drank too much but quite frankly, we did not.

Last night I went out with T and Chelle...I know, quite a stretch to the imagination. Of course, I was still feeling a little sick but nowhere near as fluish as the previous days...just not on the top of my game. We met up with E and his brother at the FQB, had some dinner and drinks and then headed up to thitwbar.

Well wouldn't you know that the first person I see in the bar is Matty...and he's not alone, he's with Jodi, my replacement (back in May when I stopped returning his calls he started dating Jodi). Ha! Well I guess I know who did answer the phone on Tuesday night...it wasn't me, so it must've been Jodi. God, I'm glad I didn't fall into that trap again. Although, as always my female jealousy was kicking in...he's so not worth it (the sex sure is though), and yet, I like to get all cavegirl about it and think that he's my property. Although, he hasn't even been on my property or bed since May. Oh well.

Then we ran into Hot Ronnie and his roommate who's our favorite bartender down at the FQB. Favorite Bartender invited us over to their house for a post bar sing along. Who says that the Norman Rockwell era is over? Apparently it's alive and well in the Cornfield. While the rest of America is doing meth and having key parties...we're singing songs while someone plays the acoustic guitar. It was pretty much a drunken blur with a whole lot of walking up stairs and then downstairs...and then freezing my ass off, then playing with somebody's puppy. I vaguely remember Favorite Bartender hand feeding me tuna and me enjoying it...but um, I hate fish. I think I love the Favorite Bartender, that's my only way to wrap my brain around the fish eating incident. I haven't eaten a single fish product (so to speak) since I was seventeen. Too bad Favorite Bartender has a girlfriend and he's damaged because he caught his wife cheating on him (obviously prior to getting a girlfriend). Poor kid. He's 26 but he carries the weight of the world sometimes...plus all the Catholic guilt that his divorce is causing him. His girlfriend seems sweet though...but she wasn't around last night so I just followed him around like a puppy. It seemed to work for me at the time. Today, I'm blushing a little. But no harm done, when I'm sober, I'm not interested in the man in the least.

At around 4am I called E and asked him to come pick us up because I was drunk, tired and wanted my bed...and I won't lie--I wanted a piece of Matty. But I stayed strong...and uh, passed out without giving a second thought to Matty. It wasn't hard what with the fact that gross Jodi was in his bed.

Last night I went out with Chelle and T...everything was fine and then on pitcher number four instead of feeling drunk I felt--well--fluish. But did that stop me? Hells no it did not. I managed to sing songs like um, Circle by Edie Brickel. Now you might not know my musical taste...but it usually involves punk and rock. It really doesn't often involve music like Circle. But I sure did look at T with love (agape love my friends) in my eyes belting out," Youuuuu you're a part of my circle of friends..." and so on. We definitely got more than a few eye rolls from the "perfect girls". You know the perfect girls...they're the girls who are dressed to the nines and their hair has enough product in it to hold steady in gale force winds. All this to go to a local hole in the wall bar on a Thursday--seems kind of silly to me, especially when you take life so seriously. Good lord, they must've really liked it when we decided to sing a horrible rendition of Skid Row's 18 and Life because we decided to relive the 8th grade dance scene! It was so much fun. And if you don't think the barroom sing-along we started sounds like fun then son, you don't know much. (I really just included that last sentence because I wanted to say son...I'm a nerd, yeah).

Other than the random men stopping over to say their hellos to us...we mostly just spent the night making each other laugh. We developed "slut gang signs" (I believe they were Chelle's creation), T had the shocker, I had the time old "V" and tongue look and Chelle threw the old donut hole and finger as well as others), we laughed at my laugh (which is truly a deep, deep cackle) and we did some crazy barstool dance moves. Nights like last night, where I'm dying of the flu but still drinking and laughing with my friends (and infecting as many people as possible--just call me Typhoid Mary) are absolutely priceless. I'm feeling crazy love right now for my buddies...Chelle and T pretty much gave me my ab workout for the week and enough laughs for at least a lifetime. Oh and let me tell you...T and I can belt out "Suspicious Minds" like nobody's business...I'm not exactly sure who played it at the bar BUT we sure did get the woooo's down like it was our job.

Oh and ladies if you're reading this, if I'm not telling the truth, let Chuck Norris smite me with a roundhouse kick to the face!

I planned to stay in tonight (Friday) because I'm going out to see my old roommates tomorrow and I've got to get up bright and early. Well then Tash called and told me that she, her husband and Ry were all at thitwbar and that she wanted some sober company. See, she's pregnant so now her husband is using her as his official designated driver. So I hopped off the couch, turned off the Sex and the City that I rented (did you know that I never saw any of them? I'm kinda like meh about them) and drove on up to the bar.

The guys were a mess. Like falling down drunk...and when I got there they had about three shots lined up and Car bombs too. Ry was basically falling asleep at the table. Tash's husband was getting hit on by some drunk guy and Tash's husband's friend from home was just skeeving me out...he used to be good looking...now he looks like he doesn't get much human contact.

Well somehow, Tash's husband knocked over a bunch of the glasses that were on the table. Shot glasses went flying off the table and one of the larger glasses shattered. I picked up what I could in the hopes of staying under the radar. No such luck. My favorite young bartender/soon to be bar owner came over looking pissed. Wordless, he stacked the glasses and removed them from the table while Ry kept yelling, "It was Melina...It was Melina." I stammered, "I'm not even drinking! I just got here!" but Bartender just walked away from us looking more than a little pissed. "Thanks guys, thanks a lot! You guys come here once in a while...I have to come here on a daily basis!" I said. And of course, Ry replied, "No, that's your choice." After that though we figured we shouldn't press our luck (as the bar is notorious for banning people for life...my dad was banned) and that we should get the boys out of there.

And that explains how I went to the bar at 10:30 and I was home by 11:31...and why I'm drinking margaritas with my dogs.

Last night I was tired but I still wanted to go out because Cr was going to be in town and I was supposed to meet up with her at thitwbar. I decided that they only way to deal with this tiredness was to drink ice water all night. It wasn't bad...but it sure was cold. After the newlywed left the bar (Cr) to return to her hubby; T, Chelle and I decided to go to the FQB for open mic night.

We got to the FQB and our favorite bartender was working, open mic wasn't going on because someone sold the amp that was supposed to be used. As soon as we walked in it was apparent that and T's love triangle was there. Her Mr. Holiday man (as I like to refer to him because she always ends up going home with him on major holidays) however, was hanging onto a blonde mohawk chick and so T made up her mind and said, "I'm done," and under her breath I'm sure I heard her say, "For now." The other half of the love triangle was there too. This young gent happens to be Mr. Holiday's best friend ( I guess we can call him The Best Friend from now on) but he's head over heels for T. I've been telling her that she's nuts for not going after him in the first place because a) he doesn't live with his mother b) he has a real job and a degree c) he's sweet d) he's super good looking and e) if he wasn't so fucking hung up on her...I'd take a crack at him. But alas, they sealed the deal last night so he's forever lost to me. Ah well, someone needed to sleep with him because he's too cute not to be slept with!

E walked in last night and came over to our side of the bar and made some small talk with us and then went back to his perch on a barstool next to Best Friend. I had to leave the bar early because I was super tired and I thought if I drank any more water I might burst, so I waddled towards the door. As I'm walking out I see that E is on his cell phone. I get to my car and I feel my cell vibrating that I have a message. I listen to it as I warm my car and wait for the longest train of all time to go by (the FQB is on the right side of the tracks by the way) and it's E. I can't believe it. He called to wish me a good night because I shaded out so quickly. If he calls me when I leave the bar after I kiss him, what would he have done had I slept with him?? Probably flowers delivered to the bar...ha ha.

Oh and Chelle slept with Co-worker again yesterday so everyone got ass but me...although I'm relieved because I fear that E might boil my bunny if I ever know him biblically. A trip out of the Cornfield is seriously needed which is why...I'm heading out to Harrisburg tomorrow to visit with two of my roommates from college. We're getting older but I'm sure we'll be able to tear it up as usual, and we haven't seen each other in almost a year so it's a long time coming!

It all starts with number one...

1. I shouldn't have finished off five pitchers of beer with two of my tiny cohorts--T and Chelle.
2. I shouldn't have gotten into a discussion with E about the possibility of us...because that's a messy messy topic...because although I keep telling him there isn't going to be an "us" he ignores me. (He's basically the Melina to my Derek--a scary scary thought)

3. I shouldn't have let E get me drunk enough to kiss me on my stairs.

4. I shouldn't have wiped my mouth off with the back of my hand and make my "grimace" face.

5. I shouldn't have decided that after a sad talk about my deceased father that it would be a good idea to sleep with his prostetic arm like a poke-y stuffed animal (hook+restless sleeper+imbibing heavily=eye pokeage) (PS. If you're wondering why I have his arm, so is my mom...I also have his spare legs too...I can't bear to part with them!)

6. I shouldn't have decided that taking a beer with me to bed because I didn't want to leave a floater was a good idea. I now have a wet bed because I set the beer right next to my pillow and unfortunately I don't have the type of bed that one person can bounce a bowling ball on the one side and a glass of red wine can sit undisturbed on the other. I obviously proved that last night.

7.I shouldn't have gotten up 10 minutes before I was supposed to be at work (even with a 30 second commute...washing my face would've been a good idea)

8. I shouldn't have shrugged and said, "You know what? I think I'm just going to wear jeans to work today...because I'm too late and lazy to iron black pants." (I had to hide in my room all day and avoid higher ups because I would've gotten a talkin' to! Although I must say that I was quite comfy and I should be allowed to wear them all the time because jeans improve my morale).