Thursday, October 30, 2008

Fire Crotch!

I have to say, I'd never really looked at a box of Lotrimin jock itch cream before, because I had no reason to. While at Walgreen's last night, to buy a pitchfork, and some other drug store items, I noticed the image on the Lotrimin package, which is quite possibly, the most hilarious thing I'd ever seen. You be the judge.
In case you're not sure where your crotch is, they helpfully point to it from every direction, and circle it. Thanks, Lotrimin!

'Till Death Do They Part!

A couple nights ago, while hanging at home, I got a call from Chazz, my friend Bridget's new husband. He told me that he and his new bride had a wonderful time on their honeymoon, and exhanged a few pleasantires. He then asked me why I decided to ruin his car! I asked him what he was talking about. True, as a bridal party, we headed out to the parking lot, mid reception to decorate his hulking SUV in traditional fare. Streamers, condoms, and with some writing. Someone handed me a bottle with a spongey top, and I assumed it was the soap like compound used to write on cars all the time. I had used it myself, after highschool graduation to decorate my own car. So, I joined in on the fun! During our walk down the strip the day before, we'd overheard a drunk girl at a bachelorette party exclaim, "Marriage is the best thing that's ever happened!", so that's what I decided to write on the hood of the car. Little did I know, that the tube I was holding was actually WHITE SHOE POLISH. Another thing I did not know... SHOE POLISH TAKES PAINT OFF OF CARS!!!
When Chazz informed me of this, I couldn't help but laugh, and profusely appologize all at the same time. At least I was not the one who wrote "horny" on one of the doors, that was the groom's brother, I believe. Still, Chazz said that he couldn't be mad because he knew it all came out of a place of love. Thank God for his understanding. Also, Andy found out that it might be possible to buff the polish out w/ a machine, so hopefully that works! I have learned two things from this, 1) at my wedding someday, I will be sure to leave all of our cars at home, 2) NEVER drunkenly accept any automobile writing utensils, it can't end well. Now please enjoy some pictures of the car, and learn from our mistakes...

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Who you callin' a loose slot?

So, my Vegas trip went WAY too fast, yet awesome. My friend Bridget made a BEAUTIFUL bride, and I know that she and her new hubs will be very happy together!

I ate at Spago for the first time, and it was phenonmenal. I lost $30 on penny slots, but DEFINITELY drank more than that in free drinks! Andy won and then promptly lost $114 but had a good time doing it. I met a great dane named Sarge, and got my hair done in a Mormon's laundry room. Overall it was a randomly excellent time. One of the highlights was at the Wynn, where I saw this:


Unfortch, it was not good to me money wise, but if I'm gonna lose money, then I will gladly lose it to a Unicorn. The "loosest slots in town " were not so good to me, but I had fun!

Oh, and BTW- the sign by the elevator in my hotel read, "Fire alarm sounds like: WHOOP!"

Monday, October 13, 2008

My bed is a very, very bad place

I love my bed. I’ve always loved every bed I’ve had because two of my favorite activities are sleeping and reading, and the bed is a wonderful place for both. However, this bed in particular is amazing. I’ve had it for years and I refused to get rid of it when it was pissed in (NOT me) and later when I moved from New York to Chicago. It’s kind of the best bed ever so I was willing to overlook a little urine and a hefty moving fee.

Lately, however, I’ve come to suspect that the bed is cursed. I’m not even really referring to sex, lest you think that in light of my last post. I mean, certainly, my bed is not the place of tender or thrilling lovefests at the moment, and is sometimes a little lonely, except when my dog is sleeping with me (which is about half the time). However, I would be okay if it was just me and my bed existing in peaceful, sleepy harmony. Not to say that the emptiness of the bed is not at all related to the curse, just that it’s the very least of it.

Last Wednesday night/Thursday morn, as I was getting ready for bed, my dog appeared to let me know we’d be roommates for the night. We have an open door policy on this, which goes as follows: “I will leave the door open as I get ready for bed. You, Molly, know the routine. When I turn off the lights in the apartment and go into my room, you are free to follow me, walk halfway across the room and stare at me with that look that says, ‘Bitch, I am sleepy as fuck. Put me on that bed posthaste.’”

So I put her on my bed and read a bit and turned out the light around 1:45. After about 5 minutes, she sat up and wouldn’t lie back down. When I eventually noticed that she was licking her lips a lot, I knew what was coming so I turned on the light and tried to grab her… right as she puked on my bed.

Ew. Puke on the bed. She proceeded to vomit twice more on the living room rug and I was up until about 3 doing laundry and cleaning up after her. With my quilt in the washer, I had to sleep under a blanket that smelled like her dirty butt because she drags it all over the living room and places her dirty butt on it. If you’re wondering about her, my sister took her to the vet and she is now a-ok.

So this had to be the worst thing to ever happen in my bed, right? Or at the very least, the worst thing involving me and a creature of some sort, right?

WRONG.

Last night, I came into my room and put my purse on the bed. I was about to leave the room to iron my dress when I saw a movement: THERE WAS A COCKROACH IN MY BED. My sheets were pulled back a bit and he was in my sheets. GROSS.

I was luckily able to catch him with a Kleenex and kill him within the Kleenex rather than squishing him into my bed. I refuse to wash bedding twice in 4 days.

I am pretty much not squeamish about bugs, but I checked that bed about 50 times before getting in. I really don’t care if there is a cockroach on the ground in the living room or bathroom. Honestly, it doesn’t bother me that much. But in my bed????? Oh, gross.

God I hope this is the end of the curse. If it is escalating, however, I foresee a Godfather moment in my near future.

Thursday, October 09, 2008

Bright Light City Gonna Set My Soul On Fire!

In the spirit of trying to be a better blogger and following my wife's candid expression of emotion, I have decided to write a lil' something as well. I am gearing up for a whirlwind weekend trip to Vegas tomorrow. Although I do love me some Vegas, it's not QUITE a voluntary trek, as I am going to participate and attend yet ANOTHER wedding. That makes about 8 or 10 weddings in the past year and a half. I am a HUGE fan of the open bar/drunken dancing that a wedding provides, however being a girl in a long term relationship with an older guy, it can be a little stressful as well.

For example, yesterday I had a bit of a freak out because the boyf and I celebrated our four year anniversary, which I am psyched about, don't get me wrong. However, the excitement also comes with the pre-requisite questions. Shouldn't I be engaged already? Why am I starting to feel like the old adage, "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride"? Then, after wondering why I would have an incredibly anti-climactic day, I got home and Andy was making dinner for us, which luckily for me, is a regular occurrence, and not just confined to anniversaries. We had a nice dinner, and drank some wine, listened to a sweet mix made by my wife a few years back, called "Sexy #3". It was low-key, but really awesome. I am REALLY going to try not to compare my relationship to others, and REALLY try not to have a timeline forever running in my head. If all these damned celebrities have their kids when they are all old, why can't I? I'm not ready for kids anyway, and I'm not really in a financial situation to be paying for a wedding at the moment either.

So, even though I am on the other end of the spectrum, in a way, than my wife is, struggles still exist. I'm happy that Andy and I are in a place to discuss the future, and just take life as it comes. The wife and I discussed yesterday that we think the big problem with a lot of our ridiculous expectations comes from unrealistic romantic comedies, that make us hold these secret hopes for incredibly grand gestures, and are disappointed when they don't happen. I have to say though, that I plan to get drunk w/ my boyf, Alice, and her hubs this weekend in Vegas, and just have a blast. It should be fun, and hopefully I will have some excellent, blogable stories upon my return!

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

An explanation intended to elicit your sympathy/make you forget I'm a horrid blogger

To quote my wife, “Oy.”

We have been absent for awhile. It has actually, in part, been (for me) recovering from my birthday, but that’s a long and drawn-out story. I will begin it with an anecdote.

My sister returned from the gym recently and indicated she had a gross story. She said she was working out on a machine and realized that the guy using the machine next to her smelled like ass. So I said, “Well, perhaps he’d just been working out for a long time and was really sweaty?” She said that, no, that was impossible. He smelled like dirty butt in a way that can only be achieved by not washing one’s ass for at least a week or so. She said that she tried breathing through her mouth but then felt like she was eating his dirty ass smell and, all in all, it was a horrible experience. She ended the story by mentioning that he finished before her and walked over to his girlfriend…

To which I replied, “Wait a minute. GIRLFRIEND? THE MAN WITH THE STINKY DIRTY ASS HAS A GIRLFRIEND???”

Yup. She confirmed that, while she and I are both clean assed but single, the dirty smelly man who cannot bother to clean his butt has a girlfriend – who presumably embraces him, as it was obvious to my sister that she was in fact his girlfriend.

I found this horrifying and have been obsessed with it ever since. The reason for my obsession, and for the bender I embarked upon after my birthday, which subsequently caused me to catch a nasty cold I’m still kind of recovering from, is that I was unceremoniously… dumped? I’m not sure you can say “dumped” but whatever it was, it occurred a couple of days after my birthday.

I hinted on this blog that I was, like, kind of dating someone. I hinted and then removed that part of the post when I realized this blog comes up if you google my very unique name, which I kind of accidentally revealed to him (yes, I was dating someone who did not have my full name for a few months) and I got paranoid (sign #1 you are not meant for someone: it terrifies you that they might find out you actually think about them enough to blog about them). It was bumpy and at times infrequent, allegedly due to his ongoing personal and work dramas. But we got along well, I thought. There aren’t many people I really want to hang out with in a nearly empty bar for hours and hours, but he was one of them. And he liked Daria. Big selling point for me.

It must be understood that I am socially awkward, kind of a drunk, and really bad at male/female crap. So I went back and forth over inviting him out for my birthday celebration, because I’m a wuss, my friends would be there, I didn’t know if they’d like him and vice versa, my palms would be sweaty, blah blah blah. But I did, and he said he’d come… and never showed up. And never contacted me, ever again! Which resulted in me getting wasted as hell, that night and many subsequent nights. And too little sleep. And as a result, my body freaked out at me because I was treating it very badly.

And I’m posting this because I no longer give a fuck if he sees it (not that I’m flattering myself, believing that he’s checking up on me via the interwebs or anything). I’m kind of tired of pretending to be blasé about things like this, and I'm sick of wondering whether it was "serious" enough to get upset over, wondering constantly whether I'm overreacting. Fuck that. I was hurt, and angry, and I’m still kind of both, and who cares if the internets know?! And why would I want to date someone if I’m scared to reveal any kind of emotion in front of them? Oh yeah, I’m a masochist and kind of emotionally repressed. Well, I’m trying to work through that.

So anyway, there is my last month or so in a nutshell! But also I’ve had a good deal of fun. The drinking may have been a sad response to a stupid, pathetic situation but it was also good times, and not too much of it was done alone. Plus there’s pumpkin beer and red wine to be had, scary movies to watch, pumpkins to carve, and Halloween outings to plan. I fucking love fall, so I guess it’s the perfect time to get over the end of a summer fling.

And also – I’m going to be a lion for Halloween! It’s exciting. The outfit is kind of slutty (can you, as a woman, find one that isn’t?) but I’m adding leggings. Which makes it still kind of slutty, I think. Oh well!

Still – I cannot make something work with a misanthropic divorcee with a long arrest record (yes. yes.), but that smelly-assed motherfucker has a girlfriend? Oh. My. God.