My friend Tara just began seeing a therapist, I don't think she'd mind me telling you because you don't know her. When she came back from her first appointment I asked her how it went and she told me the following:

Tara: Well, she's a lot older than I expected her to be...

Me: I guess that could be good, she's experienced and wise or whatever...

Tara: No, you don't get it. She started to fall asleep while I was talking!

Me: (gasping laughter that I can't control) What did you do?

Tara: I yelled loudly, "Are you OK?"

Me: That worked right?

Tara: For a little. She apologized and blamed it on new medication.

Me: Right....the old medication trick, and well she could've just blamed it on the fact that she was old! That's what she should've done.

Tara: Well...that made her explain to me that she needed to eat. So she whipped out crackers and Easy Cheese while I continued talking about my problems.

Me: What?!? What's wrong with this old bag?

Tara: I don't know, but she did offer me a cracker while she was spraying on her cheese!

Me: Were you just dying of laughter? Did you take a cracker and cheese? I would've I love Easy Cheese!

Tara: No I didn't take a cracker! I just wanted to get out of there. I mean, here I am spilling intimate details of my life and the lady is just dining and napping on my dime!

Me: Are you going to go back? I kinda think you have to go back to see what she's going to do next. Maybe she'll iron? Play Solitaire? Look at porn on the Internet?

Tara: I don't know. I want to go back but I don't know if I'll leave her living if she whips out the hor d'oerves again.

Me: Just think, I'm constantly eating when you tell me your problems...and I used to be drunk most of the time too, just pretend you're talking to a really old, hungry drunk version of me.

Tara: I can do that.

All's well here...perhaps I'm understating-- it's simply perfect. But perfect rarely breeds inspired posts. I could tell you about how John and I have become afficienados of both Trivial Pursuit and Scrabble (that Genus edition is harder than I remember! I think my parents cheated and gave me fake questions growing up!). I could tell you that I needed my mom's help in paying my $1,000 bill to get my car cleared for inspection---it is seriously amazing how much better the car runs---it no longer sounds like Fred Flintstone is using his feet to carry my little econo-car along!

Instead, I'll tell you how our past weekend could've been exciting, in list form:

1. It could've been exciting if I hadn't played drunken Scrabble on Friday night.
2. I consumed 5 Molson XXX and a few other lite beers and all of the sudden I was just a blathering idiot.
3. 6,000 is the number of times that John begged me that night to take a breath and stop babbling.
4. 6,0001 is the number of times I ignored his request.
5. That night, the drunken sex was spectacular...I blame my drunkeness for my reference to John as a "stallion"...stallion??? You can do better than that, right???
6. I awoke the next morning to lay on the couch and drink another beer to try to stave off the hangover...instead, I passed out.
7. I awoke again, to puke.
8. and puke
9. and eat KFC
10. and puke
11. and eat Wendy's
12. and puke
13. John, my faithful nursemaid (and sex stallion), tried to revive me. First, with more sex...nice, but that didn't help. Second, with trying to get me to T's Halloween party. A party we were supposed to be at around 8 pm...instead, he was trying to rally me to go at 3 am and laugh at our drunken friends.
14. I waved him away, puked and set him along without me...I nestled down with a lovely marathon of To Catch a Predator (I think it's probably wrong of me to love that show...but I do, I love it)
15. John returned with lots of pictures and videos of all kinds of mayhem--girls making out, John's friend potentially getting a threesome (which may have been arranged by my very own sex stallion, since he plied them with numerous shots in the two hours that he was there--that's how he got his other name--The Shot Monster!)
16. I fell back asleep and laid on the couch the whole next day watching football next to the Stallion.
17. Moral of the story...drunken Scrabble can destroy a weekend I suppose.

Oh and I'm attempting to do this:

So T says,"It's kind of like that movie...

"What movie I ask?"
"You know" she says, "The Lion, the Pen and the Candle"
"Err no, I've never heard of that movie" I say as I bust into laughter, leaving T to figure out what she said wrong.

Well "Taco Night" was a success. For one, it was great to get out of my little hometown and into the city. T and I braved traffic and made it down there by 6:30. We were a little anxious, as we looked slightly out of place...hmmm, let me see, everyone has black glasses, punk rock outfits or glam rocker outfits on. Pink long sleeve thermal shirt with red stars on it for me? Check. Pink pea coat? Check...look over at T and she's looking equally "cute". Cute doesn't look like it really cuts it with this crowd. But hey, I'm me and she's she...and so we mingled just fine...I still had the urge to rip my shirt off and say, "Look I'm as tattooed up as you are...I just don't have a full sleeve of them!!" But I didn't. I remained cool, and remained myself.

We bellied up to the bar and miraculously, in a completely packed bar, there are two bar stools waiting for us. But these stools were no ordinary stools (oh no!), they were gold glittery vinyl with thick brass studs on it's borders...these stools were like the cadillac of bar stools...the most comfortable thing I've ever had the luck to sit upon. I wanted to steal one and even tried to think of some plausible way, but they were far too plush to put under my shirt!

John showed up and at first it was a little awkward, nervous and tense but within minutes the conversations just flowed, stopping only to take a sip of beer or to munch on a taco. There were only a few awkward moments like when he said, "Hey! You went to a Farm School, what's it like to milk a cow?" and me being a little tipsy stating, "The same as milking..." well you know what I said, and then I realized what came out of my mouth, I turned red and drank more beer. But the cool thing was, he had an equally odd statement that he said, "There, we're even." And we were. I have to say though, I seriously hate drinking at bars that have mirrors behind the bar. I realized that my new shirt made my chest look about twice the size. Some ladies would be happy to hear that and would be jumping through hoops to find out where I got my shirt but I have to say, I thought it looked kind of ridiculous and I was thanking the fact that I was wearing a crew neck and not a V neck because it would've been really, really bad.

T and I decided to leave around nine because we didn't want to be drinking and driving so it was kind of an abrupt end. We walked out into the rain and I started to cross the street, unsure if he wanted to hug me goodbye, and I turned back and hugged him. He said, "I was wondering where you were running off to..." and I giggled replying, "I wasn't sure if you wanted to..." and he said, "Hug? I'd hug you on the first..." and then never said date. Damn! I kind of wanted to know if I was on a date, or if I was just hanging out with a new friend...arrrrggh.


So now the dilemma...after discussing hanging out at his beach (trailer) this summer (he's a surfer, I'm a diver), discussing sharing a three-way...birthday party with him and T (ha ha gotcha didn't I?), and discussing everything else under the sun...I'm left with the question, "Have we become friends?" or will he be calling me to hang out 'fo' reals'?
*Sigh*
It's always a whole lot easier when we just sleep together for me to know where I stand in all of this, and most of all...I have no idea where I stand in this. I think he's a cool guy, not someone I would ever picture that I would be interested in but when I'm talking to him, I like everything I learn about him.

My favorite thing? He hates using the phone and lives by text messages! That's my kind of man.

It's not often that you're called to duty to drink for 12 hours straight, but Friday night that's just what I was asked to do. A little before six, T, Chelle and I headed down to the FQB for dinner...pulled pork for T and me and a Po' boy for Chelle. Mmm, my god do they have the best food in the entire world. With lots of fabulous food in our bellies we hung out at the FQB for a little (so that T could look at Tony [her ex] a little longer). after T got her fill of Tony (well, at least for a little) we moved up to thithwbar.

There we just acted like idiots, talking in Scottish accents, doing shots, playing Naked Photo Hunt (and critiquing the pictures). At some point while there we ran into Hot Ronnie and Favorite Bartender (Hot Ronnie's roommate), they were about as banged up as we were...well Favorite Bartender might've had us beat by say...15 beers. The boys invited us back and this time Ronnie really was supposed to play for us, since last time we all just ended up wandering around the house rather than have the promised sing-along. At the peak of our drunkeness in walked Tony and his friend John. We chatted with them for awhile and they agreed to go over to Hot Ronnie's too after the bar closed and actually gave us a ride over.

Ronnie did actually play and sing that night, however, not many people focused on Ronnie. This was because Favorite Bartender was sooo messed up. Typically, the most rational and calm one of the group it was surprising to see him do the following things. First, he decided for absolutely no known reason, to toss the barbeque that was sitting on the deck all harmless-like off onto the driveway below...this isn't a low deck, we were quite a ways up. Within seconds, neighbor's lights were going on...people were coming outside and I was running damage control while Favorite Bartender went down to inspect the damage that he had created. Ever had a drunk girl as your spin doctor? No? That's probably a good thing. I'm just going to leave it at that because I'm not even sure what I was saying to the neighbors to allay their fears that the sky was falling. But Favorite Bartender wasn't done, oh no.

We went into the basement and we were all happily listening to Ronnie, albeit Tony was doing it with a sneer...you see Tony's very punk rock and plays in about three punk bands and well Ronnie, plays Jack Johnson. So for some reason T, Tony, Favorite Bartender, John and I ended up out in the garage. Favorite Bartender for some reason decided to throw a gigantic can of paint thinner at the garage wall...you can imagine the stench...and you can imagine that no one, drunk or sober moved to clean it up. We all just went upstairs. Now there was panic. Hot Ronnie was pissed at Favorite Bartender and went to bed. Chelle and I helped clean up the upstairs. T, Tony and John left...Chelle and I were supposed to go with but Chelle wanted to stay and I didn't care either way where we went.

About 20 mins after they left we changed our minds. Everyone was worried about what JB (the boy who actually owns the house that Favorite Bartender and Hot Ronnie live in) was going to do when he got home from work at 3am...and um, JB has a license to carry...ha ha). So Chelle and I make a call to T to see if John will come back and pick us up. He agreed to (with a sigh or two) and there we waited. Picture this, Chelle and I sitting in the dark with the tv as our only light. I'm sitting on the corner of the couch that Favorite Bartender is sleeping on, there's some random boy sitting on the other couch and Chelle is sitting on the floor.

We see a car pull up and we run to it, open the door and it's JB looking at us like we're idiots. Instead of explaining anything, we shut the door and ran right back into his house. Soon after, our ride came. We gratefully hopped in the car and he was sweet enough to swing by my house to let my dog out and Chelle decided at 4am that she had had enough. She stayed in my guest room as I proceeded with John over to Tony's house.

Over at Tony's, T, John, Tony and I proceeded to stay up and talk, drink and bust on each other for hours. I remember finishing my last beer with the sun warming my face...because it was coming up! Finally, at around 9 am John brought T and I home and we crashed our little bodies on the couch, where I remained all of Saturday--because ladies and gentlemen...I'm not 21 anymore, but I sure did party like that.

So, to start. My whole body hurts. Like twist me into a pretzel hurts, that's how I feel-but not in a good way. Why you ask? (Aww so kind...so kind), because I went back to the gym after a hiatus. I love the gym, I'm one of those weird people, however, I joined this gym last year that I absolutely loathe...which causes me to skip out on it...which causes me to complain about becoming mushy...to well, actually becoming a tad bit mushy. Hopefully, we caught it in time and with a proper diet (meaning no more good beer, only lite) and LOTS of exercise, I should be back to normal by mid January. Keep me motivated people, send me pictures of the doughboy, your obese next door neighbor, whomever!! ha ha. I'm really only kidding, 10 lbs and I'll be fine but it's not like I'm rolling down the street (yet). Oh and I'm guessing about the 10 lbs because I don't own (nor can I ever, own a scale).

In other news. I had another Matty run in last night. T and I went to a friend's bday party and then to thitwbar. Matty was there again with Jodie. Matt and I said our hellos and then I went over to my bar stool. E was there too. Now this is where it gets bad...If I had a contents label it would say, "Now with more fat...and evilness." Here's what happened. E likes me...really likes me. We kissed two weeks ago and I've been avoiding being alone with him since then because he wants to "talk" about it--thank goodness it wasn't like last year, because I would've slept with him and we would've had a world summit about it or something. So anyways...

E sits next to me, starts grabbing my arm and doing all kinds of playful flirty things. I see out of the corner of my eye Matty staring at me. Now, a typical girl would feed into this right? They'd flirt with E and casually glance over at Matty...not me. I didn't want to burn my bridges with Matty. I'm hoping to blame this on the shock that Matt's spending every waking moment with Jodie all because she answered the damn phone last Tuesday. When I'm sober, I understand how assinine I was, how stupid he is and how skanky the three of us seem...but when I'm drunk (and this is where I need help), all I'm concerned about is how I'm going to win Matty away from her.

Even though I'm evil and an asshole...and drunk enough to explain myself to E (which I thought might've been worse) he still played me songs on the jukebox that I wanted to hear and he played me and T's "love" song..."Circle" and sang it with us. E's not a bad guy, but I know that he's not the guy for me even when it has absolutely nothing to do with the young Matty esquire. E just tends not to listen to me.

My highlight of the night though might've been when Jodie asked Matty, "Can we leave?" and he said, "Why? We both still have beers." and she replied/nodded at me (even though I did nothing more than say hi to him), "That girl's here." He replied, "M? What are you worried about her for? We've been friends a lot longer than you and I have known each other..." and her response that would've been golden had he not gone home with her, "Yeah that's only one of the things that I'm worried about between you and her."

It's getting a little dangerous how much I'm enjoying discord. It might be really, really bad.

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!

Last night I went out to dinner with T down at the FQB and then we decided to stay for a few beers. After the most satisfying meal of my life (mmm chicken tambo...they make it for us special since it's not on the menu anymore), we moved into the bar area and just laughed and chatted talking about her men, and the funny messages that E drunkenly left me on Sunday night when all of them (E, Chelle, T and the rest o' the gang) were out, and I was sleeping responsibly since I had work nice and early in the morning.

Then at around ten my cell chimes that I have a text message. I open my phone and it says Matty's name and his number but nothing else. So I thought,"Huh?" and so I typed, "Huh?" and left it at that. A little after that message I got a text from M asking, "What are you up to?" and I just replied, "Out with T." Something was obviously in the air...wondering what both these boys were looking at or doing that reminded them of me.

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).

Ah, it's time to celebrate. I had my reviews at work and as I've deemed myself all this time, it turns out that I truly am OUTSTANDING with a smattering of satisfactory-ness and absolutely no trace of unsatisfactory-ness...nope not me! Although, in second grade I did receive a U (unsatisfactory/ungradeable) in penmanship which cracks me up because people always compliments me on my handwriting. I believe that Mrs. D (the most vile second grade/non cuddly teacher ever) just hated the fact that I used my left hand to write. The horror!!

In updates-- Thanksgiving was very low key this year (along with every year). I had a nice dinner out with my mom (I don't like turkey or leftovers, but I do love options!), we went to the movies and then I hit the bars with T at around 6:30pm. I think that might've been our first mistake. We were drunken fools that night. I remember putting my head on the bar saying...."mmm, cool wood...wood is sooo cool?" However, it was pretty cool that not long after that the Cars song, "Drive" came on and it dawned on us--"Who's gonna drive [us] home?" It wasn't a subliminal message, it was a deliberate message from T's holiday man (the last time they hooked up was on Halloween)...so like the most awesome third wheel ever, they drove me home and then he took her home and ravaged her. I've now pledged to find all the minor holidays out there so that she can continue to hook up with him. We've marked Arbor Day, Flag Day and Secretary Day on his calendar already and we pledge to add more!

Friday night T, Chelle and I hit thitwbar together. T wasn't feeling too well, as she had puked in the parking lot after she finished work...she ran home, got changed and then met us straight at the bar. Notice I mentioned nothing of a shower??? I'm hoping that she at least rinsed her mouth out! Well somehow we switched roles. I think it had something to do with Chelle. When Chelle starts to get her buzz on she decides that shots are the only way to get drunk. I think if needles were available, she'd be having us mainline the booze. Seriously. And then it happened. Into thitwbar, from Perfectsville, marched the Miller girls...as in Miller Beer Girls. Very few heads at the bar turned but T and I became giddy like annoying bitches at the end of the bar because we had seen...Miller Lite terry cloth wrist bands. Did I mention that we were already mirthful and altered by liquors of all sorts?? Well I sold my email address and my photo for a pair of wrist bands and because we were so kind, polite and far less skeevy than the other patrons the Miller Lite Girls were about to encounter, they bought us a pitcher for our pleasure.

Halfway into the largest pitcher ever molded out of plastic, I leaned over with crazy fish eyes and attempted to focus on Chelle. "Chelle," I wrasped out in my "Grover voice" (apparently I have a Grover voice according to the girls), "You need to take me home. Now. Now." When she told me I just needed a glass of water and to relax, "I thrust my fist against the bar and begged, "Now." Trooper that she is---she took me home where I passed out quite lady-like on the couch about three feet from my front door. The girls went over to Hot Ronnie's and when they returned at my house around 4:30am, T whispered to me, "I NOW know why you call him Hot Ronnie...he sang "The Blower's Daughter" and I just thought, 'Holy Hotness!" " I nodded sagely and drifted back to sleep.

Yes it was a first. For the first time in the history of my bar hopping past I remained sober on Thanksgiving Eve...which is strange for my beer worshipping self. But, T and I wanted to leave the Cornfield and head up the road about 20 mins so I thought to myself, "Let's be smart, shall we?" So I offered to drive to the "far away" bar and then we planned on coming back to thitwbar and just parking the car and both of getting drunk and walking home.

Well...we were stupid. We should've stayed at the far away bar. There were TONS of people there that we knew and we never see that often...and people that we admire from afar, and cute boys too. But, T felt bad that I had been sitting there nursing my water so we hopped back in the car and started making our way back to thitwbar...but there was a new wrench in our plans. It was snowing, and it was painfully cold.

We stepped into thitwbar and right away I could tell that we wouldn't be there for very long. First of all, all the people that we were friends with were working as bartenders and bouncers. That left the riff raff to run around like maniacs, smacking into me and spilling beer on my open toed shoes (yeah, I know...it was snowing). So the last straw was four beer bottles being knocked off the table and onto my shoes. I pointed to T and said, "Out. Now. We're leaving." In the parking lot I was greeted with the largest pile of puke I had ever seen and I knew that I had made the right choice. Remember, I was in a sorority...doesn't mean I want to go back to the frat party. So we moved on to the FQB and I had made a shaky decision. "T," I said, "I'm just going to drive...no drinking for me. So drink up...because one of us has to have fun."

The FQB was a little quieter, but still not as fun as the far away bar. We ran into Hot Ronnie who was wasted...he sang me Thunder Road, so that was fun...especially since it wasn't karaoke night...and especially since it wasn't very loud in there. All in all, it was a fun night...maybe not as dramatic as nights in the past but still, that was nice too. Even nicer?? The fact that I can eat Thanksgiving dinner without having to excuse myself to throw up...as I've done every year for the past 7 years, leaving some family members to believe I have a horrible untreated case of bulimea! Alrighty, enjoy your days...I'm off to dinner.

So I have a classic story for you...I will title it Sharter. Last night Chelle, T and I went to lady's night at the FQB. When we first got there he was making out all sloppy-like with some random girl...she disappeared and he turned his charm on Chelle. He begins the wooing process from across the bar by stating to us that he pays $2,000 a month to his ex wife for child support, that he's broke and that he gets henna tattoos all over him in the summer because he's too scared to get the real deal. We all snicker...as we all have more than one tattoo and because he tells us that he resembles Thomas from Inked (Thomas from Inked is hawt...Drunk guy looks like Porkie Pig). So then Drunkie McDrunkerson stage whispers to his sister (of the heaving cleavage...it was OBSCENE), "Oh geez, I keep sharting..." Now because he's drunk, we ALL hear him, and we laugh...a lot.



Laughing at someone is apparently a signal for a drunk man to come over and talk to you. Well not me...Chelle. So he comes over and he tries to be suave and says to the two of us, "Why aren't any guys coming over here and hitting on the hot girls?" We reply that we are friends with everyone in the room and that's probably why...we do NOT deny our hotness. But he repeats himself again...so I reply, "Maybe guys aren't hitting on Chelle because she's got the HIV..." but because of my stuffy nose it sounds kind of like HIP. He asks me to repeat myself but Chelle's scarlet face makes me realize that I probably shouldn't say my friend has the precursor to AIDS...T jumps in and says, "Michelle has a fake hip!" And from there we just discussed her fake hip for about twenty minutes...it being titanium and all...when she has to have it serviced and how it's darn near unbreakable.



Drunkie, says, "Oh...I can't be dealing with that!" Which made me giggle because he has a kid, he's drunk and hanging out with his sister, he was just making out at the bar with a skank who has signed her name on his hand (but he didn't know what it was...I informed him that he made out with Kimmy. He said, "Oh you know her?" I replied, "No, but she signed her name on your hand dumbass.") he's broke and he's sharting up a storm!



Well then Drunkie puts his hand on Chelle's back and says, "I'm not touching you because I want to sleep with you. It's not a bad touch is it? I'm not touching you because I want to sleep with you, I just need to go to sleep." At this point,Chelle eases her back away from Drunkie's "bad touch" hand. I make some joke and we're all laughing and Drunkie looks me right in the eye and says, "You see that? You just made me throw up..." I didn't know what he was talking about but I'm assuming that he is truly one of the people who "Throws up a little in his mouth"...seeing that he didn't throw up on me I turned back to T and ignored him--leaving Chelle and her non-existent titanium hip to fend for themselves. Then Drunkie says, "Oh god I just sharted again!" and I yelled, "Go away you're gross...that's right, get away from me!" Chelle at one point said, "Stop sharting, we know that you can't afford a new pair of underwear!" But it really didn't matter because he didn't hear me...he was just moseying to the bathroom. Our story of Drunkie ends there because Sister of the Cleaviest Cleavage packed her drunk ass brother and took him home. Not a minute too soon...one of us was going to clock him.

So lots of stuff has happened while I've been absent. Does anyone know how I can make Blogger compatible with my mac? that's the only thing that keeps me from posting...

This weekend was fun. About fifteen of us girls went out and celebrated our one friend's birthday. A new bar opened around us so that's where we, and everyone else swarmed to. It was ok...it certainly was no thitwbar, that's for sure. And for just that reason...and the crowds and the bad/loud music my friend T and I decided to mosey on over to thitwbar.

No surprises there either...well except for one. T, Chelle, Cr and I all have names for particular regulars. For example...there's Hot Ronnie (because my friends think that he's hott), The Shiny Cupcake (can't be explained without a five paragraph essay) and Smelly Cat (wears so much cologne he sucks all the oxygen out of the air when he walks into the room). T and I found out that we've been given a little nickname too. It's cute and it has to do with the one bar that we go to---Basically we're the FQB Babes. Could be worse I guess. Drunken idiots comes to mind.

For Halloween Chelle went up to Salem and Crystal was on her Honeymoon so again, T and I were on our own. We planned to go to the FQB where there was a party going on and a few of our friends' bands were playing as, so we thought it would be fun. T, went as Wonder Woman and looked so amazingly awesome I paled in comparison...but don't worry, I still looked pretty darn snappy as a bar wench. It was fun mingling with old and new friends but I have to say when I got my foot stepped on and I heard a crunch, as well when someone cut me with a broken shot glass I was quite glad I was fortified with lots of seasonal shots--with really cutesy names like "smashing pumpkins" and "vampire bites", They looked harmless but they sure weren't! T managed to get "THE" guy that she's liked for a long time and whom she's had a history with, to turn his head again finally, after many months of him avoiding her because a mistake that she made (vague I know). Apparently, he has a Wonder Woman fetish...but then again, who doesn't? I mean seriously.

We got invited to his afterparty at his house but I told T to go ahead without me. I had to get home to the dogs and I was so tired that I was going to fall asleep in my wenchy heels. Plus, I don't need another punk rock prince to break my heart...and that's all that was going to be there.
On another front, I may be seeking some kind of part time employment. My bills are overwhelming...being single and a professional individual who doesn't get paid near enough will do this to you. That, and wanting to go out every single weekend. That might really be the problem...so it may be back to the dreg jobs on top of my real one. Here's a list of horrible jobs I worked before I finished college and got my dream job.

I was a waitress at a truckstop (my skirt was a bandaid), a waitress at Denny's next door to an Army base (it was 10x's worse than the truckstop), worked at a Dairy Queen in No Man's Land (there were many people who were involved/maimed in tractor accidents...and or...drove buggies), worked at an extremely high end maternity store (can you say the ultimate hormonal bitches EVER?), Victoria's Secret (it was fun except when the guys would say things like, "You're about my girlfriend's size and hold something against my boobs and then I would have to smack them for touching my breasts) and then there were a few other less interesting ones. So what will it be next? I hardly want to know. What's the point of having a Masters Degree at this point...arrrgggh. A strike is apparently in my future because I'm not the only one suffering from the salary issue...the performance vs. pay descrepancy has been pointed out in the newspaper recently...let's just keep our fingers crossed that everything gets resolved!