Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Parameters

DREW: It's a good thing you texted me to tell me it was time to come home last night.

ME: I didn't. I just said "How's that last call working for you?"

DREW: Well, it was a good thing you sent me that bitchy, sarcastic message last night so I made it home on time.

ME: But why do I have to do that? We had a whole conversation before you went out about "parameters". Remember when you asked me what the parameters should be?

DREW: Yes, and we said 4:30 was pretty good because that gives me time to finish up my drink after last call and say goodbye to my peeps.

ME: Peeps? No, I said, "Please don't come home completely incoherent, sweaty and stinking at 7 am." And THEN we agreed that when the bar closes it might be a good time to think about coming home.

DREW: Which I did. I left the bar when it closed and I went straight to X's place because it's really close to home and then as soon as you texted me I booked right out of there because I know the parameters.

ME: But going to X's for sunrise afterhours is not leaving the party when the bar closes, that is just continuing the party elsewhere until 8 am or until you get yelled at.

DREW: I was home by 4:20.

ME: Yes, but only because I texted you and it takes 3 minutes to get home from X's.

DREW: Uh huh. I went there after the bar closed because I knew I could make it home as soon as you texted me.

ME: But that was not the new plan, that's just the same old party til you drop plan. What if I hadn't texted you?

DREW: But you did.

ME: But I can't always wake up at 4 and tell you to come home. The whole idea was for you to make this rational decision on your own without me yelling at you.

DREW: But you did yell at me. And as soon as I heard that bling I stood up and said, "Time to go home!" And I was home by 4:20. 4:20 Mary! That's some seriously awesome boyfriend action right there and you only had to send me one bitchy, horrible, nagging, annoying message.

ME: I wish I had something heavy to drop on your head right now.

DREW: Well, that's just not nice. Maybe you should send it in a text.

Did you hear me call number 52??

Hallooo good people, and thank you for still caring about what I have to say. I know I remain somewhat amiss with the blogs, it is for a number of really dumb reasons:

Reason #1: Oblivion Elder Scrolls IV on XBox 3. I'm a Breton apprentice mage and currently working on a cure for vampirism before fulfilling all the tasks that get the recommendations I need to join the Arcane University. I bought the frigging thing for Drew because he got such a good boyfriend report card this semester, and yet I am the one who noodles around happily for hours in a magical land, ignoring pets and loved ones, dragging around my sword and spells and occasionally fighting otherworldly beings. I am fully aware that I am far beyond the age that this could be considered a respectable pastime. But there it is: NERD ALERT.

Reason #2: I am nervous about boring anyone any longer with my "I am old, I am fat, no I'm not, I'm beautiful, you're beautiful, I'm just fine, I don't give a shit what anyone thinks" ping pong, self-obsessed female mentality. I'm sure I'll write about it again but we're all getting a short break in the meantime. I'm also tired of articles decrying overly skinny models and actresses and I don't want to keep repeating the same posts. Although did you see THIS ONE? Pretty crazy, right? She looks like a mantis, which is kind of cool from a purely visual standpoint. You know, if you ignore the whole creepy, starving thing. Although she does look long-limbed enough to support the claim that it's natural. See...I'M NOT JUDGING, damn it! At least not for today...

Reason #3: Semi-sobriety. Who knew that devotion to a Saturday afternoon chisel class at Crunch and switching from tequila to beer alone would render me a total bore? The calories that accompany beer suck, and sometimes I miss the Friday night throwdowns but there's a lot less drama and panty flashing this way. Don't worry though, summer is nearly here and I portend some old-timey fun. I'm thinking it's almost time to start the annual mushroom roll around on Mike's lawn. River, Michael? You hear me? Can we get this party started? How's the berry??

Reason #4: Bloody Social has been somewhat inactive as of late, which means that, as mentioned in a previous blog, I have not been forced headfirst into the models and bottles scene for some time. My supermodel bff broke up with her guy and moved to LA, so that's also cut down on the hilarity. I miss that exotic skinned purse full of high grade party favors, but God, I do not miss the excruciatingly painful life lesson that was sitting on the top of a banquette while trust fund douchebags elbowed me in the face and teenage beauty queens in headbands stepped on my feet in a rush to hit on my bf while giving me the side-eye. It's a miracle I made it through as far as I did without severely hurting myself or someone else, but it did provide much fodder for the blog complaining that has been missing as of late.

Reason #5: Facebook. Wtf? I was highly resistant and now every time I turn on the computer it sucks another hour out of my life. The line is drawn at twitter, however, sorry Alisson!

I do have some rants fomenting in my tiny brain, though, so I'll get back on it soon, if only for the writing practice. In the meantime I hope everyone is feeling great and psyched that it's finally getting warm out. Woo hoo!




Sunday, April 12, 2009

Susan Boyle

I don't watch American Idol, although not due to any resistance to it's entertainment potential. I'm just not a fan of current pop culture, as are probably most of the people who pay attention to my blogs.

It's interesting (and sad) to me that we've become so deeply prejudiced towards anyone who doesn't look the way we believe a pop star should. These days it seems to me that the only oddballs that slip through the beauty cracks are the ones with so much talent and/or personality that they cannot be denied - Amy Winehouse is an example, her cracky beehive afloat in a sea of Beyonces and Britneys.

So my mother sent me this clip tonight from Britain's Got Talent and it's kind of stunning. It's fun to watch this little lady raise her middle finger to the status quo of bitchiness plainly visible in the faces of audience members when she first walks onstage. And it does appear that everyone in the room caught the lesson.



Sunday, April 5, 2009

You Had Me at Popper Burns

It has occurred to me that I've become pretty boring lately, and for this I apologize.

I haven't done drugs with supermodels in some time. At the moment there's no one that needs beating up or a written rant. I'm not depressed or acting out in any way. I haven't been forced into any annoying hipster gigs or paparrazzi-filled bottle service clubs in quite some time. I haven't sat next to Lilo on a banquette in forever. I have no idea what Lemmy's been up to lately.

Everything comes in cycles, and this serenity will pass. In the meantime, some things on my mind:

My gorgeous and extremely talented friend Storm Large has been commissioned to do a one woman show in Portland. It's called CRAZY ENOUGH and today is the opening date so it's on my mind heavily, especially because I don't think I'm going to be able to take the time off work to get out there to see it. If you are anywhere near Portland you should go, you will not be disappointed. I have known many incredibly entertaining people in my life and Storm is at the top of that list. Every time I watch her perform I feel as if my heart is going to burst.

Why can't someone create an attractive vegan, eco-friendly shoe? I get emails touting new designers with a heart and I gamely head to their sites and inevitably its as if someone ate too much of the 80's and vomited THIS back up. Bleah. If I wanted a splatter paint kibble heel I'd go to my favorite bum on Avenue A and 2nd Street. He'll sell me a pair for $2 and throw in a slightly stained paperback to maintain positive customer relations. Stella McCartney is doing her part, I suppose, but I cannot justify (nor afford) $1300 for a pair of raffia shoes.

And on that tip - ladies, if you haven't already, go to my friend Chloe Jo's site and sign up for the GIRLIE GIRL ARMY. It's a "guide to glamazon living". She is totally hot and smart and she sends out the best emails full of sample sales, gossip, interesting tidbits, and yes, vegan recipes. She's very active in animal rights and does a lot of work with FARM SANCTUARY, but is always looking for ways to bring glamour and fun to women with a consciousness. I'm completely jealous of her and she makes me want to be a better person without lecturing, but even if you're not into being a vegan she's got great insider info on sales, health, beauty, contests, etc.

Speaking of the ladies, I am noticing that almost all of my girls are single right now. And I'm not talking about the psychos (Drew from the other room: "ALL of your friends are psycho, Mary!"). Feh! Perhaps! But I know some very attractive and interesting women with careers and lives of their own who do not bring the crazy every day, who are refusing to date anymore because it's so shitty out there. I think I'm going to research this and do a report for y'all. NOT that I think it's imperative to have a man, I'm just curious about this current phenom of rampant singledom.

Oh-- but I will leave you with pretty good blind item..I have a friend who shall remain nameless who is currently suffering from popper burns on his legs and stomach because he dropped it on himself while doing I don't want to know what in a partially or fully nude state, very late into the night and after a big night out, which I am pretty sure involved the use of illegal substances. And to him I say: you had me at popper burns. Thank God for the gays, they are magically delicious and keep me from completely fading into respectability.

Thursday, April 2, 2009