100 Girls in 100 Days Project: FAIL

25 02 2010

I’m feeling a long post coming on. You’ve been warned. Or congratulated. Whichever you prefer, really.

The blog I am about to dismantle and over analyze I came across on another blog that I read called Hooking Up Smart. Susan has some fantastic advice and is usually spot on when it comes to dating. She recently posted a link to this blog called The 100 Girls in 100 Days Project. She seemed to have a high opinion of this young man and his “brave” approach to dating. Caroline seems to be on the fence. Me? I loathe him. I’m the girl who can’t give up on the happy ending no matter how hard I try and this guy has thrown in the towel. Sad days people, sad. days. Here are some things that have taken place over on my Facebook Wall:

Caroline: “… And I don’t know about this guy. Reading it to figure out. It’s one part annoying and one part ‘meh, people are what they are,’ you know?”

Kallay: “I’m on Day 17. He is not charming my pants off yet. That’s for damn sure.”

Caroline: “Ha! No, not at all. I feel bad for him, but he’s not earning any gold stars.”

Kallay: “I feel bad for him like I feel bad for the people of Walmart. Ya know? I mean on one hand… they don’t have a lot of money! But neither do I! And I don’t leave the house looking like I belong on some obscure website with oodles of back fat and pet monkeys and WTF is she wearing!? So, in conclusion, sure… they’re poor, but that’s no excuse for landing yourself on America’s Worst Dressed List.”

Caroline: “Yeah, but I’m 90 days in now and it’s interesting to see what he thinks and feels, because he has thoughts and feelings, despite his project.”

Kallay: “When I get to Day 90 I’ll see if my feelings change. So far, I hate him. Okay not hate. I dislike his thought process. I’m not understanding how any of this is making him feel better about himself which I believe was the original intention. Like, if some asshole breaks up with me because he’s a douche bag… I date Ben & Jerry for a month and then get back out there. This guy? He dates Jane, Joan, Jerri, and 97 of the other J women and still feels like shit. So… I guess that’s where I think he fails. (Along with the other part where he is intentionally hurting women to get his rocks off. Rocks being his project, balls, and what have you.)”

Caroline: “Ha! Like I said, I’m not condoning his thought processes. But it’s hard to condemn them too much. Criminy. I know what my tortuous brainwaves look like. Pot-kettle?”

Kallay: “No, you’re so much better than he is. You wouldn’t intentionally date 100 guys in 100 days just to write a stupid blog about how shitty you feel about your love life and then continue on with the process just for shits & giggles. Which is kind of how this feels. And I’m only on Day 17. So far he’s had revenge sex, regretsy sex, and raunchy sex and none of that has made him feel better. Plus booze. He needs couch time. Without a lady. You don’t. :) “

(Some TWSS jokes ensued, then…)

Caroline: “But…I feel bad for blogger dude. He clearly feels like crap and isn’t doing anything other than wading through the mire. And he sort of gives up on it at the end.”

Kallay: “He should have given up in the beginning. Also… he feels like crap because all he did was pour salt in his wounds for 100 days. Dumb. Ass.”

And now a perverse over analyzation of the blog that never should have been…

This blog is like a disaster you need to see through ’til the end. Sort of like the 2000 election of Bush where everyone stayed up all night watching the states roll in, only to come up with a tie and a recount that would last a month. No one can stay awake for a month. Trust me. I’ve tried, or rather I had insomnia and eventually sleep won, usually only for about 4 hours, but still, sleep conquered me like I was its little bitch. This blog is so much of a natural disaster that I can’t help but keep reading. I need closure. I need to know why “Travis” feels the need to continually torture himself. He’s the antithesis of everything I want in a man. He’s an alcoholic, stubborn, overly sexual, cocky, son of a bitch who has blanketed himself in the worst kind of self pity and self loathing. He’s destructive. He’s manipulative. And he’s completely shitting on his friends and neighbors for a project that he hates as much in the beginning as he does in the end. His goal was to date 100 girls in 100 days. To step out of his comfort zone and meet women in ways he’s never done before. The problem I’m having as I get sucked further and further into his black hole of depression is that he’s not really meeting girls in new ways. He’s always drunk or hungover or both. He sucks down coffee like a tried and true suicidal insomniac and has done nothing but learned 100 new ways to hate himself. I. Don’t. Get. This.

He wants people to feel sorry for him for being the poor broken hearted guy who can’t think of a better way to self medicate but to write a blog about not calling anyone back. BUT THEN HE CALLS THEM BACK! (Or texts them back.) And he falls for his friend who laughs at him for falling for her. Add that on top of the fact that he’s not actually dating 100 different girls in 100 days. He’s lying to himself and pretending to not be looking for the girl of his dreams by going through them like tickets at the county fair and then hating himself for it. Then he waxes poetic about how many great books he’s read and how his taste in music is superior and how he enjoys sharing those things with a few of the women he’s dated(ing). (Oddly enough, I do have a small shred of pride in his music taste… I digress.) He’s extremely fickle about his situation. One minute it’s all project, project, project, then the next minute he’s scotching it up with another girl in his lap and complaining about how he would like to see her again. What the fuck, over!?

If this blog were a movie it would be: Cruel Intentions meets How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days meets Empire Records. Let me explain. (In case you are not up to date on Chick Flicks and the best movie ever made.) In Cruel Intentions, Sebastian journals about his “conquests” which is to say… he writes a daily journal about the girls he’s fucking and let’s face it, he’s not making love, he’s fucking. I loved the movie but found the idea profoundly disgusting. (Because I’m a hopeless romantic and if I was ever someone’s conquest I would. be. pissed.) Okay, so then there’s How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days where these two destined souls intentionally drive each other mad for the sole purpose of a bet (in his case) or an article (in her case). They end up both feeling like douche canoes and they kiss and make up on The Brooklyn Bridge. End Scene. The only similarity between 100 Mistakes in 100 Days and Empire Records is that the guy really does know his music and I was a big fan of the Empire Records soundtrack. Still am. So… here’s what we have… We have a guy who journals about his dates and fucks on the internet while hating himself and listening to good music, drunk and over caffeinated.

He’ll probably land a huge book deal out of this because, Lord knows, any publisher who doesn’t take on this tragic tale is a complete moron. Do I condone his project? Absolutely not. Do I think any of this was a good idea? Um… really not. Do I think it’s interesting and hard to put down? Yes. Which is why I’ve spent the better part of the day doing none of the things I needed to do and reading this train wreck of a story instead. I feel bad for the girls who liked him and never got a call back. I feel bad for the girls he chose because he simply had no other options. I feel bad for the girls he actually likes but won’t commit to because of his idiotic project. I feel bad for the girls that have to see him every day in his regular coffee shop/dive bar routine who probably never get another side glance or half smile. I feel bad for his reflection in the mirror. But mostly I feel bad for his liver.

Go read. And then let’s discuss.


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I’m *so* Not Wearing That!!

23 02 2010

I really have nothing interesting to say today.

Okay, yes I do. But it’s not pretty.

I’m having a minor meltdown re: fashion.

I understand that fashion is supposed to repeat itself. I understand that the 80’s are supposed to be “in” this year. But Christ on a Cupcake! The 80s weren’t even “in” in the 80’s!

Caroline and I were browsing through the online shopping mecca of Target last night and this is where my meltdown began…

Fashion Fail

That’s a tiered fecking skirt. Madonna used to wear those. With leggings. And leather. And her hair was something akin to The Great Tease. How is this cute? I don’t get it! To make matters worse (as if), they have to assign these fashion (please) don’ts names like Prairie Ditsy and Mint Gel. Why not just go ahead and call them scary? That would save money in the creative department, no? These are just wrong… on all four cotton levels.

Also making a big come back… tie dye. So does that mean weed’s going to be legal now too?

I mean really, if you want fashion advice for spring? Just go to peopleofwalmart.com. They seem to have this season’s “must haves” down pat. You are now free to break out your jean corsets, your leather fringed boots and your off the shoulder sweatshirts. Go ahead! Wear that shit in public! Don’t forget your leopard print handbag and shoulder pads! Mustard? Yeah, you can wear that too. Emphasis on YOU. Oh God… I just… I can’t. I’m done.

Caroline is coming to visit me on Monday to talk me down from the ledge. I’m tres excited about that. (What? They said tres in the 80’s!) We’re going to Chicago and I’m going to introduce her to my (other) “boyfriend” Julius… I love him. I would marry him if he weren’t a coffee bean. I need to write some articles and I’m fresh out of cafes to review so… I’m going to rack up as much information as possible and visit some new cafes. Thank God Caroline is as obsessed with good coffee as I am! It should be a fructuous adventure! I’m also hell bent on writing off my coffee and train ticket as business expenses. I love being a writer sometimes. (And I’m wearing my non-ripped, non tie-dyed jeans thankyouverymuch.)

In other news, one of my friends posted a link to this guy on Facebook yesterday. I almost peed my pants laughing and Caroline lost hearing for a while because I made the mistake of reading it while on the phone with her. If you’ve ever worked in the restaurant industry, you need to read this.

Off to go dig out my hot pink lipstick! Byeeee.

(3 days! <3)


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Categories : Business and Motivation, Caroline, CoffeeTalk, Fashion

Monday Mosaic

22 02 2010

I have too much on the brain to do a one hit wonder today so here we go with another Monday Mosaic. (It is Monday, right?) I don’t even know where to start. I feel like I’ve got Jiffy Pop in the skull.

First of all, I had to say this AGAIN, because I’m just bursting with pride, but Sarah darling… I am so proud of you! Congratulations on your new job and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! What a fantastic gift to receive!

I went out with my sister and brother in law this weekend to a comedy show that her dad puts on called Jerry & Jerry. Him and his friend Jerry (go figure) have been doing the show for 17 years and they. are. hilarious. In addition to the songs about peeing, pooping, boobs and vaginas… (yeah… totally my brand of humor) they had a drinking game that I cannot get out of my head. It goes a little something like this:
(sung to the tune of O Christmas Tree)

The fireman’s band, the fireman’s band
Here’s my heart and here’s my hand.
Do you really really think,
We should pause and have a drink?
PAUSE DRINK
(and then you drink… I ran out of drink. <—sad face)

We also had to "buck" like chickens and sing along to all kinds of other songs. I remember some sort of song about toast too, complete with percussion on a toaster. I was the DD… you'd think I would remember more. Sober fail! Afterwards was just a whole lot of drunken fun (for everyone who was drinking). Bumper chairs, more sing-a-longs, a lot of talk about balls and penises… It was insane. I had a blast though. I haven't laughed that hard since well, since last Thursday when my mom told me I came out of her ass.

Speaking of last week…. I finally went to the doctor. (hold your applause) I have to go back on Wednesday to hear the results from the tests I did this morning. Have you ever had to do a three hour glucose test? Well, it sucks. You have to become a gastronome of carbs (commiseration) for three days, starve yourself after 10 pm on Sunday and then wake up with the chickens the next day, NOT drink coffee (!!!asinine!!!), drink warm orange drink, and then sit in a waiting room for 4 hours while they poke you alternatively in both arms every hour on the hour making me an extremely fractious and hypnagogic individual. Yeah… funs! They sent my DNA to the lab to count my blood, test it for this, that and the other thing, plus blood sugar. I find out on Wednesday if I’m going to live or not. Party hats!

In case you’re counting down… we’re at T minus 4 days until the big meet and greet. Who’s excited about meeting the man of her dreams??? Kallerina Ballerina. That’s who. I’ll probably be mostly MIA after Friday night until approximately Monday night when I’ll gush my brains/heart out. Luckily for me, you all seem to enjoy my heartfelt squish posts. Speaking of heartfelt squish posts… I’ll be guest blogging over on Salt’s blog next week sometime since she’s off getting hitched on an island. (Congratulations lady!!) She made us all do rain dances last week and wouldn’t you know it? They worked. Go us!

In other news… I saw Whip It! this weekend. It reminded me of something I always do when I watch movies about driving fast or sports or FBI Agents. I become them. Case in point: I went to see the last Fast and the Furious in the theater and when I left, Peanut was my race car and I was Danika Patrick. I was really missing my Mazda that night because when I went to leave the parking lot all Dukes of Hazard, Peanut laughed at me and failed to accelerate so I ended up over revving the engine and looking like an egregious dumb ass instead. Do you do this? When I watch movies where people (FBI Agents) shoot guns and run a lot? I want to join the Armed Forces and do jumpy shooting moves, fly through the air like a movie star and hit my target in the head. Oh… and run with my hair down. (Think Will Smith in Bad Boys or Angelina Jolie in… well in every movie that she stars in.) So watching this Roller Derby thing made me want to go buy roller skates and roll around my neighborhood. Unfortunately, my clutzometer is in full force lately, which basically means I’d be flying wheels over elbows through the air into a large snow bank, breaking a few bones and losing a boob. I’m telling you, movies make me wanna do stupid shit.

Things I saw around the internet that also make me want to do stupid shit…

Like read this book. (because clearly I need a new To Do List)

Or make a Peeps Diorama. (This is totally Caroline’s Fault with a capital F. Also, Fred used to love peeps. But he liked to wait until they were ROCK hard and then eat them. I don’t even like them soft. Yeah, yeah… TWSS.)

Or fish. (R and I talk about fishing about once every conversation (about 10 times a day). It’s ridiculous. Today we got into a discussion about Asian Carp and how much I hate them. They’re evil little bastard fish who can break your fucking neck. ‘Nough. Said. R wants to eat one. Of course he does! He’s a guy. They like to conquer things like asshole fish and walking dinner aka venison aka Bambi aka DEER. It’s rather charming really.)

I joined The Lady Bloggers Society too! Did you SEE THAT!? They had pink on their button. Like *I* could resist that!? Anyway, don’t worry. They use the term Lady as loosely as I do because Lord knows ladies don’t talk about bodily functions as much as I do. But Hello! I chew with my mouth closed and know when to cross my ankles versus legs, so there. Also? Napkin goes on the lap, not on my collar. But I will totally talk about farting because it’s funny and sometimes I’m a five year old. Meh. :/

That’s it for today. My brain is all over the world and back again today. I don’t know why, I just feel like a ruh-TARD! Probably has something to do with the withholding of precious coffee this morning. That was just mean and wrong.

Top of the evening to you!


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Categories : Monday Mosaic

My Anyway Friend

19 02 2010

I promise I will finish up the next couple of days of the wedding recap but this was *too good* to not post about.

I’m an addict when it comes to Thursday night TV.  Desperate Housewives I love, but can miss and watch online and be okay.  Grey’s Anatomy and Private Practice?  Not so much.  I even got my mom and grandma hooked on these shows. Alright… I’m getting to a point, I swear.  Last night on Private Practice Sam gave a speech about his daughter on her wedding day.  When she was little she called him her “Anyway Friend” which is to say… You can pee in my cheerios all you want, I love you anyway.  Very cute.  It was a touching moment for about five seconds and then this happened:

The Scene…
Me, laying on the couch, grumped out about this ridiculous carb loading diet I’m on for my three hour glucose test on Monday. (Part one of Kallay: Lab Rat for a Day) Mom is laying on the chair with her legs hanging off the arm. The Anyway Friend scene begins.

The Anyway Friend scene ends and…

Mom: “You’re my Anyway Friend!”

(I grumble and adjust myself so I can look at my mother.)

Me: “Um… that’s because you gave birth to me.”

Mom: “Well, yeah!!”

Me: “No seriously, I feel bad because here you were all 5′2″ with new socks and you had to birth what might as well have been a full grown child! I mean, you had to push me out of…”

Mom: “My ass!”

Me: “Mom, babies don’t come out of the ass.”

Mom: (pointing to her nah nah place) “No they come out of there!”

Me: “Mom, I’m almost twenty eight years old! We are not having ‘The Talk’ now! I know where babies come from! I assure you… it’s not the ass!”

Mom: (laughing and not breathing)

Me: “But if I did, in fact, come from your ass, then that would explain a whole lot of things. That would make me a living, breathing, somehow growing, piece of shit! Or possibly just a very productive fart. In either case… life is suddenly making sense for me!”

Mom: (crying and laughing)

Me: “Good talk!”

Mom: “No wonder we used to call you a little shit!”

Me: (sigh)

To my mother, who embodies duplicity and every blonde joke ever written, I love you anyway…. friend.


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Blue Eyes and Boobs!

18 02 2010

I think I’m starting to get it.  Y’all think I’m pretty! Beautiful even! And Glamorous!  I’m all blue/green/gray eyes and boobies!  What’s more… I have brains! :D  What’s not to love?

So I was completely touched and went all goo-goo ga-ga when Shelli at Minnesota Meets California was all… “You’re Beautiful!” *aw*  First of all, Shelli is getting married cruise style and is going to have a blast!  Destination wedding seems to be the way to go. Second, she can make some killer cakes. Her talent surpasses mine by about a thousand meters; you can check those out here.  Also, as if that’s not enough, you should see her cookies!!! She’s a fantastic mother and has a heart of gold so honestly, I am humbled by her.  Thank you Shelli!

So here we go with the rules… always with the rules. I’m supposed to tell you seven things you might not already know about me and then give this award away to seven deserving bloggers that I think are beautiful.

The Seven:

1. I am going back to school to major in English Literature with a minor in Web and Graphic Design. You’re shocked. I know. At the ripe old age of 28 I will be joining the ranks of 18 year olds everywhere only I’ll be wearing a backpack with a back massager.  They have those, right?  I’m beyond excited about this recent decision.  It’s going to be a great year. (My horoscope said so…)

2. I don’t love eggplant or squash. (not including zucchini) I love all other veggies including brussels sprouts but for whatever reason those two skeeve me right out.

3.  I love to fish. Yeah I know… I’m totally into MAC and purses and girlie crap, but I also love to get down and dirty and go camping, hiking, fishing, and don’t even think about putting the worm on for me, that’s my favorite part! R and I were talking about this today and I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned it here.  I have a picture somewhere of my bass.  I threw her (yeah, of course it was a girl!) back.  For one thing, I’d rather eat a Walleye than a Bass and she was a gorgeous fish.  She deserved to swim around a little more.  Plus, Bass are kind of the idiot fish.  They definitely ride the short bus in their school.  They will bite anything. A fake worm, a rubber frog, whatever.  They’re all about shiny things which leads me to believe that they’re all a bunch of big dumb girls.  But I love them.  They’re fun to catch.  (Holy cow I found it!!! :D Pardon my morning breath at 7am…) This was my 17.5 inch pretty bass. It was crazy early, there’s a bathing suit under there somewhere.  I had on pants, shorts, my swimsuit, a tank top, a shirt and a sweatshirt.  Hello layers! It’s cold in the morning fog yo! (Yes, even in the hot hot summer.) I am seriously all kinds of glee in this picture too. I love it!

that's called thumbing a bass with sharp ass teeth. she was feisty. you can see her tail being all flippy.

4. I’m biased but I happen to think that Lake Michigan has the MOST beautiful sunsets in the world. One of my favorite things to do in the summer is to go to my spot and watch the sunset.  It’s absolutely gorgeous. Here are some pictures from a late night fishing adventure… no fish but look at this sunset! And this is NOTHING.  Sometimes it lights up the ENTIRE sky.  *swoon*

5. I secretly love Bon Jovi. Not that it’s like any of you closet MmmBoppers (you know who you are, you cougars), but really…  I love his music. And I know almost of the words to his songs and will totally rock out with my hairdryer blowing my hair away from my face pretending to be in a music video singing the songs.  (With my hair brush as the microphone, duh.)  Same goes for Miley Cyrus’ Party in the USA.  You can blame Oviler for that. (Noddin’ my head like yeah, Movin’ my hips like yeah…) It’s totally sexy in *my* mirror.

6.  I love coffee, this is so secret, but I am also a big fan of cool tea pots. If I could collect anything it would be teapots and water pitchers.  But I hate to dust because it makes me sick and coughy, so there goes that dream.  Unless (!!!) one day when I get famous for writing a kick ass book and roll in dough from my successful Cafe Kallay then maybe I’ll hire a housekeeper and she can tend to that.  Hm… there’s something to be said for stream of consciousness writing.

7. I’m failing miserably on my 100 Book List, but the point was to read more and that I *am* doing. So there.

Okay..

The Other Seven:

1. Christine @ Raised Q

2. M @ Blackberries to Apples

3. Monique @ A day in the life of a Surferwife

4. heart charlie

5. Sarah @ the fox den

6. Kelly @ Dare to be Domestic

7. The UnGourmet

See?  I don’t *always* cop out.  Just usually.  Because singling people out feels good and wrong all at the same time.  I’m a rebel, you’d think I’d like shit like that.


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Categories : CoffeeTalk, Just Another Bibelot Blog, awards

T”her”sday: It was very Bridaly.

16 02 2010

So we left off with my swollen feet and a cake that stole my pretty. I woke up early on Thursday, like every other day of the wedding week, wanting needing coffee, my feet still hurt to walk on, and my head was about to explode. It was Bridal Shower/Bachelorette Party Day! I got ready and made myself look halfway decent but because my face decided to was time to sprout a garden due to lack of sleep and water, I was starting to look like a hormonal 15 year old. Oh well, no one’s looking at me! (Until I open my mouth and get snarky and witty…)

We wore beads until we said “Missy” and if someone caught us then they got our beads… I lost mine within 2 minutes. Missy’s mother in law is seriously competitive and hilarious! Missy totally lucked out in that department. The woman rocks. So, I lost that game right out of the gate. I mean, hello, I had slept all of 12 hours since Sunday and because my feet hurt with an inexorable pain, there was no intelligent thought at this point in the week. We ate a whole pile of food including stove pot omelettes, fresh fruit, veggies, and some seriously delicious monkey bread. (Plus, cupcakes… although… I never ate one. Frosting… buuuuh.) Missy opened presents and we played Bridal Bingo. I won. And then left my prize there when I came home… bonk. Oh well. Missy received about 12 gift cards wrapped in ginormous bags and then came the see through, lace adorned lingerie and right about then is when Missy turned the color of a stoplight. Her mom gave her a sex book which I believe to be a completely acceptable gift to receive in front of your grandmother, new mother in law and The Friendly Uncle. Yes.  It’s a Bridal Shower… it’s supposed to be embarrassing on some level.

Soon after the presents were opened, we started shooing people out.  It was party time.  We had a big night planned after all.  I was just starting to get my voice back, which was fantastic since I hadn’t been able to have a normal conversation all week.  The plan was to go to this fabulous spa and partake in a hot springs soak, some steam rooms, a nice long yoga session and then dinner and the always fabulous Bachelorette party games.  The MOH had found this seemingly great place to relax.  The website shows pictures of this lush hot springs paradise. It looked clean and other than the all nude option after dark… we were pretty excited about this place.  So we blindfolded our unsuspecting victim and drove to the Hot Springs. We spotted it at the same time and the laughing commenced.

This place was not lush.  It was not clean. It was clearly photoshopped.

It was a trailer park.

An honest to God, stand in the yard pregnant with barefeet, smoking a cigarette with a sippy cup of boxed wine amongst your car parts trailer park.  I about died.  I certainly didn’t want to take the blindfold off of my poor Missy.  MOH and I laughed from the stoplight all the way into the “resort”.  I had to lead Missy into the freezing cold, damp locker room which smelled of sulfur and had signs posted that we should probably consider leaving our valuables in the car.  So, question was, who was going to walk out in their swimsuit and put our stuff back in the car? Um.. NOT IT!

So the shock wore off and we continued on our journey to the steam room extremely leery and sure of the fact that there would be no separating from the pack.  We sat in the sauna for a while chatting it up with the locals, starting to calm down and feel a little less weirded out by this crazy ass place.  My throat started to dry out and the coughing fit sent me away from the sauna.  So we moved to the steam room. And this friends, this is where I was convinced that we probably should have just stuck with the traditional Bachelorette to-do.  We walked in, I immediately couldn’t breathe.  After about 60 seconds we lept out of the steam room and two girls got the giggles, which infected the rest of us.  I heard the words “He was NAKED!” Wait… what? Who was naked?

Apparently, the steam room was currently employing a very naked 30 something Mexican.  How I missed it, I don’t know.  But yep, I was ready to go right then.  Naked people were not in my plan. We were no longer doing the good old fashioned stripper thing. We marched right past it when we entered the nudist colony and these strippers only wore thongs on their feet.  Oh, man.   Onto the hot spring soak…

It was a slightly over luke warm hot tub that smelled like dead eggs. And the kicker? No talking. It was a place to meditate and rejuvenate.  I’d had enough of it at this point.  This trailer park public pool was off the charts bizarre and now I couldn’t talk for the next hour and a half because Ghandi said so.  Pfft… we’ll see.

I’m really not a disrespectful person, but this is a bachelorette party. Not talking is like going to the fair and not riding the Ferris Wheel.  Come the hell oooon.  So we sat there whispering to each other like we were in a packed movie theater. I rolled my eyes about twenty seven thousand times and then I started talking in my regular voice which wasn’t much more than a whisper at that point anyway.  Then we met Mr. Mayan Calendar Expert Guy.

Mr. MCEG worked at the TP Pool as an instructor of the Mayan Calendar.  So he thinks that we’re all going to die sometime in December of 2012. Naturally. I hope his energy didn’t float over to my side of the pool.  So he starts blabbing on and on about the Mayan Calendar and what today’s date meant. Then he asked if we wanted a reading. (No, no thank you.) Missy gave him her birth date.  Apparently she is a part of the Blue Eagle tribe!  Yeah.  And I’m a Pink Panther. But he went on to say that her life was in the perfect place to get married (no shit) and that this was her year of self love and acceptance. I personally don’t believe that masturbation is a great start to a honeymoon but I mean, whatever floats your boat.  He also named about forty other tribes that Missy was in due to the fact that apparently the Blue Eagle tribe is a very big deal.  Her life has a perfect triangle and basically everything she touches turns to gold and she should never worry about struggles ever.  Because the Mayan Calendar says her life is perfect.  So, the immediate question that sprang to my mind was… So whose life sucks then? What tribe is that exactly? I think it might be mine, perhaps you could confirm and/or deny?  I laughed through the whole thing.  I couldn’t help it.  This guy was off his rocker and lived on the funny farm. Or should. So far this “party” was heading in the absolute wrong direction.  The fun was being sucked out one Mayan Calendar hour at a time.  (That’s fast if the world is ending in a year and a half… just saying.)

So it was (FINALLY!!!!) time to go to yoga.  I was really looking forward to this.  I miss yoga like Jenny Craig misses butter.  I grabbed my mat that I’m sure contained the dirt from someone else’s feet and got in my comfy sitting pose.  The teacher asked us where we were from and what we were doing and proceeded to make the entire class about love and marriage.  It was actually pretty cool.  Being strong in certain positions, having faith in your body,  etc.  relating it all to the bonds of marriage.   I was inspired.  Okay fun level rising again…

Back to the house to get ready for dinner.  We were running late for our reservations but no matter!  It’s not like Thursday night in Tim Buk Tu was going to be throbbing with people.  I was feeling like major ass at this point. Tired, my feet were now in heels which was like wearing torture devices and these are my comfy shoes… My voice was failing me.  I was miserable but come on… let’s party.  So we went to this great little restaurant and drank some interesting beer and ate some fantastic food.  Opened more lingerie.  And then it was time for: The List.

Oh, The List…  A two page description of things that Missy had to do before the night was over.  And none of us were drunk. Listen, don’t give a list to a bunch of Type A successful wannabes.  Okay?  It ends badly.  You end up drive by mooning people, asking strangers for condoms out of their wallets, bartenders for condoms and ripping the chest hair out of willing and able men.  You also end up with a four guy convoy and not a lot of drinking gets done.  At one point we stopped in front of what was obviously a club for the gay and the tattooed and I’m sorry, I couldn’t take it anymore.  I needed a shot. It was the best tequila shot I’ve ever had.  Lick, shoot, suck. Yeah, I totally used training wheels.  I wasn’t drunk enough (or at all) to go free ballin’ on some well liquor, okay? Sue me.

At this point in the evening, my feet were on fire but also numb, I wasn’t buzzed and I had grown tired of The List. I was not going to ask one more unsuspecting stranger to do anymore of our satanic deeds.  I just couldn’t.  I just wanted a drink and a chair.  After I swung around a parking sign pole and documented it with my camera, we finally headed to a bar with stools.  We did another shot (yays!) and the night was coming to a close.  Missy had fun and was buzzed like a doorbell from the beer and three shots over the 6 hour period, I love a lightweight.  The List was torn into pieces (also documented with a video) and we finally made our way back to The Ranch to get some sleep.  We had an early appointment at the nail salon and it was high time to get our pampering on.  Seriously, can a hardworking bridesmaid get a foot rub?  Yes, yes she can! (But only if you’re obnoxious and beg…)


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Categories : Friends

Happy Blog Boyfriend: A billet-doux for you…

15 02 2010

Happy Valentine’s Day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (a day late and a dollar short… sorry)

I love today. It’s my favorite holiday by a mile. I get to tell all of the people I love how much and why. Yes, I can do it every day and I totally do, but I love that there is an entire day dedicated to love. Any kind of love. It’s just a great day. :) Alright… enough of that.

I haven’t had a romantic Valentine in quite some time. I wrote a blog once about wanting a Happy Blog Boyfriend, someone I could gush over and know in my soul was a good catch. Friends, I think I met him. This is a billet-doux for him. An open letter with a twist.

R-

Before I met you I had sworn off dating. I didn’t want a relationship. I didn’t have time to fall in love. I was completely over the whole dating scene and men in general. Tired of being oogled and ogled and seen as just a pretty girl constantly judged for my past. I was tired of falling for the bottom feeders and always getting hurt. And so… I was done.

And then I met you and every day you break down my wall brick by brick and force me to face you, to look at you, to see you. It scares the hell out of me. Because while I’m looking at you, I’m looking at myself and at us and I am so hopeful and so elated for the first time in such a long time. You are so supportive of my dreams and my goals and my future. You never suggest that our almost relationship would get in the way of what needs to be done. You just say with confidence that everything will work out. That come what may, we’ll get through it. The “we” just kills me. (in a very good way)

You are everything I hoped for. I have prayed to God so many times for someone that could keep up with me, someone that could sweep me off my feet and be real. Someone that loved God and wanted to build a relationship based on trust and faith and everything that He has to offer. And here we are. Building. Relating. Becoming the best of friends. Becoming the best of lovers. I feel so blessed and so grateful to God for placing you in my life at the exact time that I gave up on ever finding true love and happiness. Which leads me to this…

1 Corinthians 13

If I could speak in any language in heaven or on earth but didn’t love others, I would be making meaningless noise like a loud gong or a clanging cymbal.

(Because of you, I will no longer make meaningless noise, I will no longer feel hopeless nor speak of love as a thing that doesn’t exist.)

If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I knew all the mysteries of the future and knew everything about everything, but didn’t love others, what good would I be? And if I had the gift of faith so that I could speak to a mountain and make it move, without love I would be no good to anybody.

(If I knew everything about the future, I would no longer have the gift of surprise. And I love your surprises. I love that when I wake up in the morning there’s someone out there to tell me I’m beautiful. Someone for me to share my day with. Someone for me to connect with on a deeper level than ever before. Someone to share my love for God with and read the Word with.)

If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it; but if I didn’t love others, I would be of no value whatsoever.

(I am humbled by this experience. If I didn’t open my heart, we never would have made it this far. And as scary as it is, it’s been worth it.)

Love is patient. Love is kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. Love does not demand its own way. Love is not irritable, and it keeps no record of when it has been wronged.

(Your love is patient. Your love is kind. I will never give you a reason to be jealous. You are always respectful of what I want and need. We will compromise when we come to a halt in decision. Forgiving and forgetting is the only way to truly forgive and I’ve had a lot of practice.)

It is never glad about injustice but rejoices whenever truth wins out.

(I have never been intentionally dishonest or misleading and have appreciated your honesty with me. It’s so refreshing to meet someone who can be real, even when it might mean a means to an end. Taking a risk on trust is a leap of faith and you have obviously been rewarded for it.)

Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.

(One thing I have always been is resilient. Hoping is a struggle for me because I always seem to reach for the high bar and miss miserably but in this moment… I feel hopeful. Struggles will come, they’re inevitable because unfortunately life is never perfect nor is it predictable. All I can say is when they come, I’m a great woman to have in your corner. I’m hard pressed to give up on anything.)

Love with last forever, but prophecy and speaking in unknown languages and special knowledge will all disappear. Now we know only a little, and even the gift of prophecy reveals little! But when the end comes, these special gifts will all disappear.

(I see it everyday in my clients. They don’t know who they are, what they were, how to do normal everyday things but the one thing they know… the common current in every single one… is love. Your mind can die but somewhere deep down the heart keeps pump-pump-pumping away at life. It’s absolutely inspiring to be in the presence of that kind of pure love. I look forward to growing old and developing that kind of deep love for the people in my life.)

It’s like this: When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child does. But when I grew up, I put away childish things.

(We put away the immaturity but I hope that I will always love like a child, play like a child and trust like a child. That is to say that I hope I am never afraid to be open to new things, that I am never afraid to keep my heart open for you and that I will always be able to dance in the rain, fearless of whatever may come my way.)

Now we see things imperfectly as in a poor mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God knows me now.

(I will never know why I responded to you. I will only know that it was a decision that opened my heart to someone or something that I was so close to giving up on. So close to throwing away. So close to missing out on. I trust that God has brought us together for a reason, just like he brings any other two people together. Be it a lesson, a task or a chance at real love… I am so happy and feel so blessed that he chose us.)

There are three things that will endure -faith, hope, and love- and the greatest of these is love.

Song of Songs 2: 3-6

And compared to other youths, my lover is like the finest apple tree in the orchard. I am seated in his delightful shade, and his fruit is delicious to eat. He brings me to the banquet hall, so everyone can see how much he loves me. Oh, feed me with your love – your “raisins” and your “apples” – for I am utterly lovesick! His left hand is under my head, and his right hand embraces me.

R, my prayer is that we continue to grow and evolve as a couple into something that will inspire others to not give up. That they will take a chance on someone that is worth it. You have so been worth waiting for. I now understand when people say “I just knew”. Because I just know. And I know you do too. What a journey we have to look forward to, growing our love with God grounding us and His love inspiring our own.

Happy Valentine’s Day love, I hope we can spend many more together.

T minus ten days….

Kallay

Okay… someone pass me a box of tissues please… holy tears batman.


Comments : 21 Comments »

Categories : God, Guest Blogging, Heart on My Sleeve, Holidays, love

Low Tide…

14 02 2010

I had another blog written.

All I can say is change of plans, tailspin…. whatever.

I’m so happy I have a fantastic family and some awesome friends. I have an amazing dog who has been and always will be my favorite Valentine. My favorite holiday… :)

What can I say?

I just love… love.

I guest blogged over at Sarah’s today about some more dating disASSters. Go ahead and read… you’ll laugh. I promise.

Happy Valentine’s Day! <3


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Categories : Dating DisASSters, Holidays

Guest Blogger Holler!

12 02 2010

I’m playing guest blogger over at Sarah’s today! :)

Tomorrow I will recap Thursday from Wedding Week: The Bridal Shower and The Bachelorette Party… it was quite an experience, there was a trailer park involved… Oh funniness.

See you tomorrow loves!


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Categories : Guest Blogging

Double Postin’ Foo’

11 02 2010

I was going to throw this into THE Wedding Cake post, but it deserves its own plot of land so… there it is.

I’m not exactly known for my short posts either. This will break it up for you in case you’re pressed for time. And let’s face it, we’re American (mostly) and we’re always in a hurry even when we’re not in a hurry.

Anyhoodle…

I won some more awards! WINNED! WOO! People think I’m pretty and that I master things, which is so cool because I am totally the Master of some things! I’m also so far behind that I feel like an asshole so if you awarded me and I *still* haven’t posted it (FOR SHAME!!) then please let me know so I can give you the props you deserve!

First… Surferwife thinks I’m crazy. It’s not technically an award but dudes… the post is hysterical and you should read it. (So what if it was from a month ago? It’s FUNNY. Funny doesn’t age.)

Second… An award without rules. My kind of award folks. Oh yesh.

Salt thinks I’m gorgeous. *blush* She’s also said I’m photogenic which is so sweet. She must have missed the great tease. ;) At any rate… I think she’s gorgeous too. Hello… perfect skin and gorgeous hair anyone? And she looks good hungover which just pisses me right off, in a very non-mad kind of way. She’s going to be a beautiful bride. So go visit her and send her off to T&C with blessings!

I’m supposed to list blogs of people I think are gorgeous. It would take forever to list you all. Honestly. I would be here all night. So I’m copping out (as usual) and telling you that you are all gorgeous. Take this big PINK (!!) blobby GLOB award and wear it with pride. Yeah, I’m talking to you.

Third… Kelly @ Dare to be Domestic thinks that I own a large shelf because she has bestowed upon me not one, but TWO awards. Her blog is awesome sauce by the way… you need to go check her out. She’s funny, creative, smart and sassy! It doesn’t get any better.

Holy Buckets Humble Stew!

She thinks I’m Glamorous, Salt thinks I’m Gorgeous… this is too much for one girl. But wow, so very, very nice.

So I’m passing this award onto one person because the next one has to go to six people and I’ve been blogging for about four hours now… enough is enough. Krysten @ After I Do wins this award because I think dedicating an entire month to your Valentine might possibly be the sweetest thing ever and she is totally glamorous… cute hair, cute clothes, she’s just CUTE! Now… go read while she gushes about her hubs. It’s adorable.

OH! So fun! Now I get to tell you what I’ve mastered. (Or some of the things anyway… I’m pretty masterful. I’m also very clumsy and trippy so don’t be jealous. For real.)

Six Things I Have Mastered:

1) Coffee/Lattes: I still have lots to learn but if I’m serving it? I can make a mean pot of coffee and the best latte you’ve ever had. And I have proof! I once had a customer come into a cafe I worked in all kinds of grumpy. Major douche bag from England. Totally rude. It was just a disaster waiting to happen. I was the manager so I knew that if this guy complained it was going to get ugly. So I rang him up and made his wife and him the best latte and cappuccino that I could muster from the depth of my barista knowledge, set them on the counter and prayed that they wouldn’t be those people. They were in the cafe for an hour. They kept looking over at me and pointing and looking around. All I could think was “Oh God… here we go.”

The man brought their dishes up to the counter (wait… what’s happening?) and says to me in a strong English accent… “Miss, my wife and I are traveling through the area on vacation and have been to many cafes in your area and you just made me the best latte I have had in the whole week we have spent here. Maybe the best latte I have ever had in my life.” *jaw… floor* Then he handed me a tip. Yeah, a foreigner tipped me personally for a job well done. I was floating on Cloud 9 for the rest of the day. I’ve received other compliments like that but this was bar none the best I’ve had. I thanked him profusely and he said “No, really! Thank you!” So, for future reference… want the best latte in the WORLD? I’m your girl. ;)

2) Cooking/Baking: Again… lots to learn! But I do love it. I love feeding other people something that I’ve created and having them enjoy it. I’ve made Thanksgiving dinner a few times, Christmas dinners, Mother’s Day feasts where I asked my three favorite mothers what they loved and created meals around those things…. I just love cooking and baking for other people. I’m happy with a boring salad and sandwich for myself. Cooking for others is so much more rewarding.

3) Forgiveness: Ask anyone who has done me wrong. I can forgive and forget better than anyone I know. I don’t know how or why… I just can. I am not a good grudge holder. I don’t usually need an apology either. Sometimes, you just have to let stuff go. Otherwise, there’s a little seed that grows and grows and eventually you become the kind of person that is just hateful. One day you wake up with no friends and you wonder what the hell happened. I just couldn’t live like that. So I move on. It’s easier.

4) Love: I am the master of giving my heart away. It leaves me open to being hurt and walked all over but as they say “It’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.” Cheesy? Yep. True? Very. I’m very much the type of person who wears their heart on their sleeve. I dislike a lot of things, but I don’t *actually* hate anything. I find the good in people more often than necessary. I love things others despise… like old people. And I am 100% a hopeless romantic.

5) Resiliency/Change: This is redundant at best but after moving as much as I have and dealing with all of the life experiences I have dealt with even in just the past five years… I can look myself in the eye and say that I am a-okay with change. I’m totally a cat in this respect. Throw me off a building and still, somehow, someway, I’m going to land on my feet. I thank God for that gift.

6) Laughter: I have one of those contagious laughs and I love it. I love cheering other people up and being a general light in someone else’s day. Plus… I am SUCH a child. I also don’t have much shame. I will totally post pictures of myself doing stupid shit just to get you to laugh. I will tell you an embarrassing story to make you feel better about yourself. And I will totally laugh at you if you trip on air, because it’s funny. People need to lighten up these days. Life is hard. It will always be hard. No one has it easy… So we might as well laugh it up while we still can. One day you’ll forget who you are, poop your own pants and leave your teeth on the counter… and laughter? You won’t even know how. So… be silly. Be stupid. Make a complete ass of yourself. You only get one chance.

Six People I Think Master Friendship (among other things…)

Lauren @ Salt Says
Allyson @ Magnolias and Mimosas
Mandi @ Mandi Speaks
Sarah @ The Anti-Journalist
Rebecca @ The Reluctant Homefront
Jamie @ Oh! How Lovely!

And… I’m done. Two ginormous blogs in one day? I need to get paid for this poo. Tomorrow I’ll be at Sarah’s guest bloggin’! Woot!


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Categories : awards

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