What's your bag?

I was tagged by the wonderful calicobebop to show you my bag and its contents. I didn't realize the array of crap I had in it until I was asked to do this, so thank you, calico.... my bag is now cleaned out of unneccessary items!!

Here's a pic of my purse:

It's a knockoff Balenciaga (or however you spell it) from one of the many shops here in Houston. Yeah, I don't care, I'm not spending hundreds on something that I put through the wringer on a daily basis.

Now, here's the contents (after I cleaned out all the reciepts, crap, etc):

Contents:

Keys

Wallet

Eyeglasses

Checkbook

Bottle of Ibuprofen

Medicine for my constant urinary tract infections (way fun)

Packet of Advil

Bangle bracelets from last time I went out

My old cell phone in case mine craps out (which happens often)

Lease for house rental on the Guadalupe River for Memorial Day

Insurance cards

Now. This isn't the complete list of items found in my purse. The big zipper compartment in the middle of it is reserved for.....

LIP GLOSS!!

Now, I know you're probably thinking, "Why on earth does anyone need that much lip gloss??" Well, my friends, to be honest, I have a lot more, they just don't all fit in my purse. I am a certified lip gloss whore. I see it, I have to have it. And I'll spend $25 on a great Chanel gloss because they are beautiful and last forever. You can judge if you want, but my gloss makes me happy. :)

Oh yeah, since all of my bloggie friends have already done this, I'm not tagging anyone...

Even funerals are a debacle in my family.

Last week, we had a death in our family... My cousin Shane, who was a family and hometown hero, committed suicide, and it completely devastated my dad's side of the family. He was such a great man... a stellar football player who got a full scholarship to the University of Texas and was an All-American pick his senior year, then after graduation he was drafted to the NFL and played for the Denver Broncos and Atlanta Falcons (he even started in the Super Bowl in 1998). He had a beautiful wife and two teenage daughters. A couple of years ago he had a tumor in his brain removed. His family had noticed things were not right with him recently, he was abnormally clumsy when he had always been so coordinated, and withdrawn when he had always been so outgoing and charming. His wife thought something had resurfaced with the tumor, so she scheduled an appointment with his neurologist. That morning, they got in a normal married couple argument, nothing big, and he ended up shooting himself in their home. I was so angry at him when I found out, but once I heard the details of his personality changes, and the fact that he didn't leave a note and it was so spontaneous, I have gotten over being mad and am only sad and convinced it was 100% not him thinking in his right mind. He had it all, and there was no way he would have given everything up without there being something wrong with his mental state. I fully believe he's looking down on us in heaven now.

So the funeral was this Sunday, and I drove the two hour drive home to attend, to be there for my dad. The place was packed, tons of his former teammates flew in to attend, and it seemed like the whole town was there. I know that really meant something to his family, to show them what an impact Shane had on our small town.

Anyway, the point of this post was not for sadness. It's to show that no matter what kind of event is going on, my family will no doubt turn it into something blog-worthy. During the service, my mom was sitting to my right, and I happened to look over and she had her eyes closed. Now, you don't know the back story, but my mom's had problems with prescription pills for years and constantly falls asleep wherever she is, causing me and my brother immense embarrassment. She says she's clean now but she's said that before. I've been lied to so many times there's no way I believe her anyway. So there she is in a FUNERAL, sitting on the FRONT ROW, no less, and snoozing away like it's nappy time. I elbow her hard and she jumps up, glares at me, leans over and whispers in my ear, "I was PRAYING". Uh, yeah, ok. My aunt was full blown into her eulogy and there were no prayers being said anywhere. And before you think, well maybe she just WAS praying, you paranoid girl you!, the answer is NO WAY. This was at least the fourth time I caught her with her eyes closed, and it wasn't even the last. Anyway, thinking about that pisses me off, so moving on...

After the service, everyone was outside in the parking lot, waiting for the casket to be loaded so we could go to the gravesite. I was standing with my dad and grandfather, and here comes Mom, through a packed crowd of people, with a cigarette lit. And blowing it in people's faces. Now, I know I've blogged and TM's blogged about smoking. You know I smoke. But there is a certain smokers' etiquette, and my mom DOES NOT HAVE IT. I mean, she was holding a lit cigarette eye level with a freaking kid! In a crowd! That is a total no-no, anyone could tell you that. She is just in her own little world. So I say to her, "Jesus, Mom, get some freaking manners, you know you don't smoke in a crowd, go to the back of the parking lot or something!". She just stands there, glares at me, then stomps away. Whatever. So I go to the car later (of COURSE it was just the two of us riding together, awesome), and she's pouting like MP does when she gets in trouble. She turns around and starts crying and asks why I'm so hateful. That's what she always says, that I'm hateful. Sorry, I'm just honest, and she's overdramatic. That's my take on it, anyway. Poor pitiful mom.

So, on to the gravesite. We pull in, and start walking through the grass to where Shane will be buried. I must mention that I was wearing heels, and the weak ankle kicked in, of course. I almost ate a headstone at one point from stepping in a miniscule hole and twisting the weak ankle. Anyway, I make it to where we're going by holding tightly onto my dad like he's escorting me on homecoming court again or something. When we get there, I notice that the site is right next to a fence and a pasture. Then I notice the two donkeys hanging out on the other side. Seriously. As the preacher goes into his dialogue, a cow comes running out of nowhere and head butts one of the donkeys. And then it's on. More donkeys and cows show up, and there is mooing and neighing (whatever) and ruckus like SIX FEET AWAY from where the hundred or so of us are standing. There was like a gang fight between the farm animals, and it was one of the funniest things I've ever seen. Eventually, everyone started chuckling and then laughing, and it really lightened the mood. In my head I was thinking that Shane (who was a master practical joker) had something to do with it.

RIP Shane, you'll be missed...

Shitty, shitty day.

As if I don't doubt my parenting skills on an hourly basis ANYWAY, my daughter told her sitter today that she wanted to go to the park, to which the sitter replied that it's too cold and to wait until it warms up, when your mom gets here. MP replied, "No, she won't take me to the park anyway, all she wants to do is sleep. And then her and her boyfriend will go to a bar. She doesn't want to hang out with me."

Mom of the year, right here. I can't believe a human 23 years younger than me and two feet shorter can make me feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet.

I think I'm doing my best, and I know her comments were probably just for attention, but it really makes me wonder if I'm screwing her up for life. I guess I'll just marry someone off a dating website so she can have a more stable environment to live in. There are literally not enough hours in the day for me to work full time, run errands, cook dinner, do homework, bath, quality time, etc. with MP, and NOT be tired. I'm tired all.the.time. Add in trying to maintain a relationship with BF and my friends... I have no energy. I go to bed the same time as MP (if I'm not still doing chores), and that's ridiculous. I'm too young to feel this old.

To top that off, BF and I got in a huge fight last night and aren't speaking. Normally I'm the happiest girl alive on Fridays (hence my blog title), but today is just fucking bad. Real fucking bad.

PS - In my defense, I haven't been out in over two weeks. I have sat my happy ass at home every night with MP, helping her play her guitar and watching SpongeBob and making necklaces out of the crafts kit that Santa brought her. Guess she forgets all about that when she's dogging me out to everyone that will listen. :)

Sorry about the rant. I needed to vent to someone other than TM.

New Year's Eve trip to New Orleans, Part 1

Ok, not a lot of time to post but I'm about to shoot someone in my office if they put another stack of papers on my desk or send me more reciepts for expense reports or ask for another passport form to be filled out or a conference call to be scheduled or a meeting to be set up or a catering order to be done. Phew. TM has heard my ranting about asshole coworkers all day. So, to take a break from the never-ending work on my desk, I'll give you a short synopsis of our NYE trip to Bourbon Street:

* BF and I arrived the day before NYE to get our drinking tolerance up before the big night. Not the best idea. It's about a 6 hour drive from Houston to New Orleans, and we had been together every day for going on two weeks. We normally see each other two, three times a week. We didn't speak much on the way, he had his iPod on and I was listening to the radio... the only time we really conversed was when someone needed to stop to pee or get a drink or something. The second we got in our hotel room we got in a fight. About nothing, really, we were just sick of each other. Already.


* I should mention that BEFORE we got in our hotel, BF lost one of his tennis shoes somewhere on the way to the room. We think it fell out of his bag in the elevator, but when I went back to check it was nowhere to be found. This didn't help his irritability level one tiny bit.


* We call a truce, change clothes, then head down to Bourbon. Luckily, we were staying at a hotel right on the street, so we didn't have to walk blocks and blocks to get back. It is TOTALLY worth the extra money if you ever go, take my word for it. Plus we had an icechest in our room and kept going back up to pour free beers in our cups. Score!


* First stop: Across the street to Tropical Isle, home of the Hand Grenades. I swear, if you haven't had one, you must book a trip immediately to NOLA to get one. It is awesome. Potent, but awesome. Seriously, I had one and as soon as I got off my barstool I was deee-runk. And I'm not a lightweight, I can outdrink grown men. It normally takes at least 6-8 beers for me to feel a buzz, but one of these babies got me a one track ticket to hammered-ville, no stops at buzztown first. Did I mention Everclear is one of the ingredients?

(This is me and one of my besties a few years ago... consuming the infamous hand grenades. See the glaze in our eyes?)

* After I was sufficiently inebriated (I might mention that it's only around 6pm-ish), we head to another bar, and I realize that I need to slow my roll, it's not even dark for Christ's sake, and I need to make it all night. I go to the bartender, and being the responsible girl that I am, order a beer. (You thought I was going to say water, huh... HA! Whatever! I needed to lay off the liquor, not all alcohol!!) The girl behind the bar comes back with not one but three beers. I look at her, puzzled, and say, sorry, only meant to order one. She replies, oh, it's happy hour and beers are three for one. WHAT!? New Orleans is the devil!! I'm trying to be all responsible and slow down and I can't even do that!! You know when you have three beers in front of you, you have to drink quick so they don't get all hot. So this did not help me out a bit.

* While BF and I are hanging out on barstools by the bar, some guy with aviator sunglasses comes off the stage where the band is setting up and orders a drink. I ask him if he's with the band (because I get all chatty with strangers when I'm drinking, plus I'm a big groupie), and he says yes, he's the lead singer. I introduce myself and he tells me his name is James and then I ask if he'll take a request. Mind you, the band isn't even set up yet, and they don't go on for a while, but he's all, sure, what do you want to hear? I take a step back, and start singing "Sweet Child 'O Mine" by GnR, and do the Axl Rose-holding-the-mike-swaying move that I'm famous for at hometown parties. He looks at me kinda crazy, laughs and says ok, I'll see what I can do. Flash forward an hour and the band's on, James is singing every song to me (and BF doesn't seem too happy), then he says, I have a very special request, points to me and launches into "She's got a smile, and it seems to me...." and I start singing (yelling, whatever) the words drunkenly along with James. It. Was. Awesome. I was a rock star. (mmhmm yeah right)

* By this time, we're ready to go to a dirty Bourbon Street strip club. We're on our way, and some random couple comes up and starts talking to us, and we invite them along. We make it to the first one we see, pay our cover, and head in. It took us a full 5 minutes to realize we're the only white people in this club. I was quite happy, since the strippers were all dancing to booty music. Our new friends don't look too comfortable, but who cares, I was having fun. One of the strippers did the booty pop (you know what this is, watch any rap video), and I'm looking all amazed, shaking my head, wishing I wasn't so white bread and could do that. One of the strippers on the side sees my wishful looking face and comes over to me. I start chatting with her (I told you, everyone's my friend when I'm drinking), and I say something like there's no way I can do that, I'm so jealous. Then she gets in front of me and does the booty pop and I touch her butt and BF's eyes get all huge, like, SCORE, my girlfriend likes chicks (and I don't, but I'll appreciate a good booty pop). I never learned how to do it properly, but I got lessons to practice at home in front of the mirror.

Alright, boss keeps coming in here... I'll post more later. Believe me, this is just the tip of the iceberg... :)

Motivational Posters

Oh, how I love these sarcastic motivational posters you see all over the internet... a friend sent me these in an email and I almost choked on my coffee. Enjoy!

This one's so funny to me because we have them running around all over Houston. I call them "THOSE guys". And nobody wants to be "that guy".

Sucks to be her.

Sucks like times ten to be HER.

This will definitely not happen in my house... I made a rule a long time ago to never flash the boobies on Bourbon Street...

That shit is funny, I don't care who you are.

Someone prolly put this pic on their myspace page. Whores.

That's just mean. But funny.

I'm raffing my ass off on this one.

Everybody has their place. Hers is the ho at MSNBC.

Jeeezus. I hope they're not the church choir. Actually, they probably are...

My brother is a coach and I bet he deals with this every day.

Yeah, two in one day... what?

Ok here's another one... TM tagged me, so I have to do it. She's scary if I don't do what she says. And she just quit smoking for New Year's, so she's extra scary right about now. I shall oblige.

Apparently I have to list ten things about myself that nobody knows, and be honest or something along those lines. I'm too lazy to go back and read all the rules. I think that's the gist. Here goes:

1. I hate mayonnaise. Hate, hate, hate, like can't even see it or I'll throw up immediately hate it. Honestly, the mention of it makes me get the gurgly stomach. TM loves the shit, and actually DIPS HER FUCKING FRENCH FRIES IN IT. I think she does it mainly to see how green I'll get. Blech. I really cannot even think about it anymore, I'm getting nauseous.

2. I cannot take the sound of cardboard scraping against cardboard. I freak the eff out whenever I hear it, and get chills all over the back of my neck, and make this circus freak clicking noise with my tounge and the back of my bottom lip that is a total reflex I cannot control. I also cannot explain the noise, that was the best I could do. Moving's quite an issue, obviously, because the sound of cardboard scraping against itself is inevitable.

3. I really like rap. Like, old school Master P and Snoop and Dre and Pac and Biggie and Ice Cube and Ice T and Run DMC, all of it... and I know most of the words to a lot of obscure songs that you probably haven't heard of. Pour one out for Pimp C, homies.

4. I am mildly obsessive compulsive about certain things. My house can be messy at times, but the crap has an organization to it. I cannot STAND when any of my food touches on my dinner plate (TM says she's buying me and her husband those divided kiddie plates, because he has the same phobia). I get abnormally upset when my order is wrong from a food place, and have burst into tears because of one tiny thing incorrect with my order. Normally the mistake is that they put mayo on my burger... but you will see lots more than tears on that one, friend. Like I'll go back through the drive through and throw it at the idiot who couldn't take the order correctly. Yes, I've done it.

5. I'm crazy flexible, like, all over. I can pull my thumb back to touch the top of my wrist, my legs can go behind my head, I can do backbends and splits still, all that stuff. BF loves it, obviously. It also helps when I'm breaking and entering and need to fit in small spaces. Kidding.

6. I've been friends with TM for going on 24 years. That's super crazy, right!? It gets weirder. We have the same first name. We work for the same company, in the same group, at the same location, two floors apart (and this is a HUGE oil and gas company, so it's not like we're insurance agents in an office of 4 people). We live way close to each other. It's like we share a life almost, except she's got huge knockers and a great ass.

Damn, these are hard. I'm not that interesting.

7. I got a tattoo drunkenly and it looks like crap. I requested a pink star on my foot the size of a dime or so, and got one the size of a silver dollar on my ankle. It looks similar the Houston Astros logo (definitely NOT what I was going for), so now I jokingly call it my Go 'Stros tat. It's grown on me a bit, but I wouldn't be mad if it wasn't there anymore.

8. I absolutely hate Nickleback and Rob Thomas (with or without Matchbox 20). I don't know what it is, but every time I hear something by either one of them, I'd rather have sex with Mini-Me than have to keep the song on. And Mini-Me is the most disgusting creature on the planet. Next to Chad Kroeger's voice. (Sorry if anyone reading this is a big Nickleback or RT fan... You probably don't like rap, so you can hate me about that.)

9. I can seriously watch Food Network 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I'm not kidding. I actually didn't change the channel all day Saturday when I was vegging out from the time I woke up until the time I left for dinner at 6. I would totally marry Bobby Flay or Tyler Florence, and I wish that Paula Dean was my aunt and Rachael Ray was my cousin or something (she doesn't annoy me like she does most of America). I troll the internet looking for gossip on my favorite FN stars. I'm weird.

10. I fractured my ankle jumping over a fence around a parking lot at a bar (on the way in). I was also wearing a skirt. I also still hobbled up the stairs after the incident to drink the pain away. Turns out, I needed, like, serious surgery. I guess I thought I just sprained it. Anyhoo, I have deemed this "the weak ankle". To this day, when the weather changes, I feel it in the weak ankle. The weak ankle also causes me to fall down. A lot. Sober. So, I guess I got what I deserved by being lazy and not walking around to the entrance.

Since I have like three followers and they've all been tagged already, I'm tagging no one. :)

Meme for 2008

Don't worry, I'll get to my blog about New Year's Eve... kinda waiting on some pictures so you can see the debauchery yourself. So until then... a little survey I stole from BF that she stole from Matter of Fact Mommy.

1. What did you do in 2008 that you'd never done before? Got in trouble at work. Seriously, I'm not a bad person, I've never gotten reprimanded, ever.

2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I don't do resolutions anymore, I just end up disappointing myself by January 4th.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Hmm. Don't think so.

4. Did anyone close to you die? Not anyone close to me, thank God.

5. What countries did you visit? Louisiana's like another country, no?

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008? More financial stability.

7. What date from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? June 26 - the day me and BF quit being "buddies" and started calling it a relationship.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Not breaking up with a guy over something stupid within the first week. Just call me Chandler.

9. What was your biggest failure? Not losing weight like I wanted to.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? I'm the UTI queen. I also had the flu and strep throat within a month of each other. Fun, fun.

11. What was the best thing you bought? My comfy huge ass couch. I could live on it.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? MP... she's quickly learning to read and is doing great in school.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? My mom's. Long story.

14. Where did most of your money go? Rent and drinking establishments.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Finally having an actual BF to kiss at midnight on New Year's, instead of my girlfriends. Not that they're not hot...

16. What song will always remind you of 2008? Whatever You Like by T.I. - I love love love it. Makes me wanna shake my boo-tay.

17. Compared to this time last year, you are: Much more content with my life.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of? Saving money and exercising.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of? Wasting money on Jaeger Bombs. They seemed neccessary at the time though...

20. How will you be spending Christmas? Oh. Guess I was supposed to do this last year... uh, see my previous blog to find out what I did.

21. Did you fall in love in 2008? I don't know if I'm there yet. IN love is different than love.

22. What was your favorite TV program? Grey's Anatomy, Brothers and Sisters, Lipstick Jungle, Dirty Sexy Money... the last two are being cancelled and I'm not a happy camper.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year? I don't hate anyone.

24. What was the best book you read? An autobiography on the Eagles.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery? Re-discovering some great Floyd and Zeppelin songs I had forgotten about.

26. What did you want and get? BF. I'd been chasing him for a year. :)

27. What did you want and not get? Respect at work.

28. What was your favorite film that you saw this year? Forgetting Sarah Marshall or Sex and the City.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I turned 28, and went to dinner the night before with TM and a friend, then went to my brother's college town on my actual birthday for a day of drinking with rugby boys. It was fun.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? If my boss wasn't a complete hen-pecked jackass.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008? Casual, dressed up with jewelry when I need it.

32. What kept you sane? My awesome best friend and BF. And Miller Lite.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Jordan Knight. I swear, I fell back in love with him after the NKOTB concert.

34. What political issue stirred you the most? The fact that people were concentrating on race and sex instead of the actual issues.

35. Who did you miss? My friends I don't see much anymore.

36. Who was the best new person you met? BF's family. I absolutely adore them. I know how lucky I am.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008: Sometimes you really don't know what you've been missing until you get it.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: "Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day...." Time by Pink Floyd.

Holiday Recap, Part 1

Sorry I've been MIA for a couple of weeks. The holidays wore me out, yo. I went back home to the small town I'm from, and brought BF with me, since this year MP was at her dad's house. I hate sharing. Especially my kid. Especially on holidays. Regardless, I had to do it (because the law says I do), so I brought BF with me as some sort of a replacement so I wasn't so sad. I just really ended up drinking my sorrows away, but it seemed to work. A quick recap of the holiday events:

Christmas Eve at my dad's parents was BRUTAL. Everyone (or my grandparents and aunt and cousins) just sat around talking about their sicknesses like they were in a competition and had to one up each other. "Oh, I have a bad cough." "Oh yeah? I'll take your cough and raise you a bad back." I think the winner was my aunt who has something the doctors can't figure out. Anyway, needless to say I started drinking the Miller Lite before I got over there, and switched to whiskey before we left so I wouldn't rip someone's head off.

I actually made it to my mom's mom's house afterwards this year, instead of going home like I normally do to wrap presents. BF, me, and my brother were now all switched over from beer to whiskey so it was way fun by then. I couldn't find BF for the longest time, so I went searching for him... and found him in the back living room with my mom, aunt, and grandma DOING A PUZZLE. Like a little girl!! I made fun of him relentlessly, as I had just left the front living room where everyone was watching football like they should, and found him poring over the damn puzzle pieces, happy as can be. His only response was, "I like puzzles." No argument, defending of his manhood, nothing. It was hilarious. Here's the proof:


You like how he's wearing the Tool t-shirt (a Christmas present from me, BTW) in the presence of two 50-something and one 70-something women? This picture will be printed out and framed in my living room.

I know you're probably wondering if I put my foot down on the wrapping of gifts and Waffle House run. The answer to both of those is, well I tried. I don't want to get into all the details, but I ended up losing on both accounts. I just can't say no. I'm a pansy.

BUT I did manage to not do the baby Jesus!! Oh yeah. Me and my brother tag teamed my grandma and convinced her it was ridiculous for grown adults to be doing this after 20-something years. We paid our dues. She only protested a couple of times, but ended up conceding. Score 1 for me.

Christmas night was way fun, I met up with about 20-30 of my friends and we went out to a bar. We never all get together anymore, because we're scattered around Texas, so the holidays are pretty much the only time it happens. BF was pretty hammered by midnight or so (we'd been drinking at the family Christmas stuff for about 8 hours already), but I was shaking my booty with my old friends and didn't want to leave. In fact, I was making plans with a couple other couples (ok, drunks) to hit up a hole in the wall bar in Louisiana after we left the place we were at. (FYI, my hometown is on the border of Texas and Louisiana. Any after 1:00AM beer runs are super easy, as LA sells beer and liquor in the gas stations 24-7. AND we have a little bar we frequent that stays open 24-7 as well. It's awesome.) Anyway, BF finally convinced me with his glaring stare and raised middle finger (just kidding) that I needed to leave. The next day's hangover sucked pretty bad, so I guess it was good he made me get outta there...

That's all for now... I'll post later with my New Year's trip to New Orleans. It's still too soon to re-visit those memories right now. Back to my bed to recover.