I want to go back to college so I can do this again....

One of the best decisions I have made in my life was choosing to study abroad in college. Yes it cost me and my parents an arm and a leg, and yes I was paying off my credit card for years after, but it was single handily the best experience I've ever had.

I decided to spend a summer in the United Kingdom to study British history at University College of London. I did not know anyone else from my college going (it was a huge school) and it was not the most exotic location I could have chosen, but that was where I wanted to go.

The evening I left, my parents took me out to dinner before driving me to the airport. For some reason I remember I ordered fish and chips which is ridiculous because that is like the only thing the British serve other than bangers and mash. On the way to the airport, my mom asked me if I was nervous and I told her not at all.

I had never flown alone at this point and the only time I had left the country was when my parents took us to Mexico. But I wasn't scared at all, just excited.

The moment I landed I knew I would love it. My program consisted of three months in London, ten days in Edinburgh, and four days in Bath. I had friends that were traveling other places in Europe and planned to stay after the program ended to visit Rome, Dublin, Amsterdam, and Brussels.

I met some of the coolest people. People who are dear friends to this day.

We drank a lot of cider in the cutest pubs. Did you know in London you can get beer and cider in a two liter plastic bottle? I was so excited by this and started buying it to drink in my dorm, then the RA told me only homeless people buy those and I stopped....just kidding I still loved them. (Please ignore my ridiculous pose)

It wasn't until I went to Europe that I learned to love wine. Turns out it was cheaper than beer so we drank a lot of it. I sipped wine in Rome, and it was magical. I feel in love with a waiter named Valentino....but only for a night and probably because of the wine.

I took pictures next to sweet ass fountains and learned not to be afraid to explore things on my own. I found out I was totally confident and could make friends anywhere. That was pretty empowering at that point in my life.

I visited the iconic Abbey Road and failed miserably at getting a picture like the one the Beatles took...it's a busy road that shit was hard. We quickly gave up to drink more wine.

I prayed...ok I didn't but I did visit some of the most beautiful churches in the whole wide world, and that is cool whether Jesus is your homeboy or not.

I swam in Loch Ness, and climbed a mountain in Scotland. I stole a shot of absinthe from a customer at a pub in Bath, and visited Billy Shakespeare's hometown. I discovered Stone Henge is super lame, but London is the best city on earth. I found out the Irish are really crazy fucking drunks and almost got arrested for open intox in Dublin. I "ate some sandwiches" in Amsterdam and thought it to be an incredibly beautiful city. I was moved by a visit to the Anne Frank house and entertained at the Sex museum. I saw amazing art in the museums of London and kissed boys from all over the world.

The coolest part about study abroad was unlike a trip that is over too quickly I got to live in London for three months. I had a dorm room and went grocery shopping and did anything a college student would do. It was an emersive experience unlike any I have ever had. I hope I am able to spend that much time traveling again one of these days. I know it's probably just a matter of weeks until I find out I have a trust fund I never knew about....at that point the world will become my oyster. 

The second coolest part about my particular study abroad program was that our professor was retiring just a few weeks after the semester ended and he felt the best way for us to learn was to explore and experience the UK; I am guessing he just didn't want to grade papers or prepare lectures. We spent approximately 4 hours in class in those three months and just had to write book reports on five books that none of us read. I could not have been happier with his teaching methods, or the 4.0 I received in his class.

If you want to hear more cool travel tales and read one of my faveorite blogs, click on this link:

Five things tag

So I wrote here about how I am not a yet real blogger, I am trying to be a little bit and as a result I am starting cyber romances with some very sassy women. And by romances I mean we comment on each others blogs. One of my new gal pals is Chelsee at Southern Beauty Guide, since i have the make up skills of a drunk toddler her blog makes me realize I need to get rich and hire someone to paint my face.

Anyway, she tagged me in her Five Things Tag! Post so I am playing along because she is awesome. 

Here are five random facts about me: 

1.) I do not drink rum...unless it is in the form of a mojito. I spent a week in Jamaica and consumed far too much rum and Red Stripe and now I stay away from both.

2.) I can't stand cats. I am 100% a dog lover. Sorry cat people, I try.

3.) Sponges disgust me. I cannot touch them, I think the word spore is freaky and I do not know how people clean with them. They are literally little germ cesspools.

4.) I started eating clean a few months ago, and am feeling amazing and don't think I will ever go back. The only thing that has been hard to give up is Diet Coke. I feel like a hobo looking for crack every morning when I don't get my DC.

5.) I love my job. I want to find my exact same job in a different location.

Now I am tagging five other bloggers who have to do this. It is pretty much like a chain letter so if you don't cooperate you will turn into a donkey or something crazy like that.

Without further ado:

The Little Things....(and Vodka)

Everyday Adventures

Vodka and Soda

Little Pink Droppings

Smalls

Cooking with Jose

Despite the fact that I am probably one of the best cooks in the entire world, I am a really shitty baker. I have however found one type of cookie that I don't burn or otherwise ruin, so naturally I make them all the time. One of the guys at my work is obsessed with them so I bring them in for him from time to time. We got into a little tiff last week because I am really good at ruffling feathers at work, so I figured I would make him a batch as a peace offering.

My manfriend, Jose, decided to help me bake because we are just adorable like that.

Here is how our conversation went:

Jose, "we are just like 2 Broke girls, want to start a business?"

Me, "I didn't know you even paid attention when I watched that."

Jose, "Oh yea, it's one of your only shows that I don't hate. So which one are you?"

Me, "Max"

Jose, "That makes sense you are more drunk and bitchy than me."

After the cookies had baked 8 minutes I checked to see if they were done. They needed a few more minutes so I put the microwave on for 2 minutes. Not the timer, just the microwave because I am sassy.

Jose, "Whoa, don't do that you will break the microwave."

Me, "That's just an old wive's tale."

Jose, "Bullshit! Ask my mom, I broke hers the day of my brother's graduation party when I tried to microwave a fly. She wasn't happy, but I killed the fly."


After that comment, I was laughing pretty hard and started putting cookie dough all over his face in that darling way couples do at weddings. Then I pushed him over and held him down so Fred the dog could lick it off his face. He didn't find it as amusing as I did.

Now there is fucking red velvet cake mix all over my kitchen.

But the cookies aren't burned so I am happy. And the best part of the cookies is they have white chocolate in them which I consider a sin against chocolate so I won't eat any, there aren't many things I won't eat.

Here is the recipe for my fool proof red velvet cookies in case you are interested.

~You will need:

2 sticks softened butter

2 cups white chocolate chips

1 box red velvet cake mix

1 egg

1 cup flour

-Preheat oven to 350

-Use a mixer to beat softened butter into a fluff (that's a technical term)

-Slowly mix in flour and cake mix

-Mix in egg

-Fold in chocolate chips

-Shape dough into balls and place on cookie sheet.

-Bake for 8-10 minutes.

But beware the red velvet cake mix kind of has a mind of its own and flies all over making a damn mess.

School night drankin

So I am slowly becoming one of those assholes that enjoys working out and eats a salad for lunch everyday. Oh yeah I also am into juicing now...I know, I hate myself just writing it.

Because I am trying to be healthy and more so because the bars in my lame town all suck, I rarely drink during the week. Like almost never, shocking I know.

Yesterday after work I went for a run, then took Pilates for the first time. Pilates is no joke that shit is really hard.

See how terrified I was after the class...

I had a salad for dinner (and lunch too) and felt like a million bucks. Then around 8pm my friend texted me and asked if manfriend and I wanted to go to a comedy show at one of the less lame bars around....well hell yea! I friggen love stand up comedy.

After such a healthy day I assumed I would just have a glass of wine, enjoy the comedy, and call it a night...apparently I don't know myself at all.

Instead, I had 4 glasses of wine at the show. I vaguely remember talking to all the comedians and making them look at pictures on my phone, comedians probably get so damn sick of drunk girls who think they are funny bothering them when all they want is to enjoy a beer in peace.

After the show we went to another bar where I proceeded to have at least two beers and a few shots of Fireball. See, I told you I make a lot of PLDs, I am many things but a liar is not one of them.

You can probably imagine when I woke up this morning I felt less than fabulous, but certainly not as bad as I should. On top of my slight hangover I was feeling real guilty about consuming more calories in alcohol than I have consumed all week in food, so naturally I got myself a gas station turkey sandwich and a diet coke for breakfast.

Yeah, and then I got this bad lad. It's a mocha light though so shut up. The granola bar and kiwi I packed for lunch is depressing me at the moment, I want another gas station sandwich or three.

P.S. Happy Friday bitches! I have to work tomorrow, so I am going to try not to drink my body weight in wine again tonight, but self control clearly isn't my strong suit today.

The PLD

The PLD also known as Poor Life Decision is something we all make.

Be honest, you probably made over a thousand your first year of college alone.

For me, PLDs typically occur when I am intoxicated, but not exclusively.

PLDs can include sleeping with someone you regret, being mean to someone you shouldn't have, a bad hair cut, and anything in between.

Perhaps the most painful PLD I have ever made occurred a few summers ago at a party my mother threw. It is no surprise I am a party girl because I come from some pretty wild parents. My mom who insists we call her mombo is also known as Big Sandy. My dad gave her the nickname and she loves it, Big Sandy is anything but big, in fact she is one of those assholes that eats like a truck driver and weighs next to nothing. She likes to host parties quite often and her an my dad have a sweet purple shopping cart that they fill with booze in the summer and push around their neighborhood serving drinks to anyone they pass. Don't you wish they were your neighbors?

This party cart has a horn, battery powered tiki lights, and all kinds of other accoutrement. It is the talk of the town. For as long as my parents have had this cart, my friends and I have enjoyed pushing each other around in it when we got drunk (past tense). Anywho, this a fore mentioned party was my mom's biggest to date. We named it Big Sandy-palooza and created fliers, hired a band, ordered multiple kegs, stocked the bar with booze, and got a caterer. It was bad ass to say the least.

(This shot of my dad and I is the only photo I can find from the entire night)

I don't think I need to tell you that I got shmamered at big Sandy-palooza...it goes without saying. After all the old folks had gone to bed and just the hard core drunks were still awake, my friend and I decided we wanted to go for party cart rides. She and I climbed into the cart and our buddy started pushing us down the street.

"faster, faster," I imagine we both yelled. He ran and ran and eventually his drunk ass hit a curb. She and I flew out of the cart. That is all I remember about that.

The next morning I awoke to find my face was completely swollen and bruised (Yes, I said my face....awesome I know) and it was obvious one of my ribs was broken. My wrist was pretty sore as well. I found my friend sleeping in the living room and discovered she too was pretty banged up. Not her face though, only I was that lucky. I legitimately looked like a victim of domestic abuse.

The face took a few weeks to return to its beautiful self as did the wrist. The rib on the other hand was insanely painful for over a month. What a smart cookie I am.

I will not re-hash all my PLDs or it might make me cry, but this morning I made a big one and that was juicing radishes. That shit was so nasty...I cannot get the taste out of my mouth. Don't do it, I am warning you.

PLDs are not to be confused with regret. I have made a million poor life decisions in my day but have only two regrets.

Those regrets are waiting until I was 28 to get into yoga and quitting the piano.

So ce' la vi, make some PLDs and be happy...just don't you dare juice a radish.

(Click this for more great party stories from some terific blogs)

Haters gonna Hate

                                                                                      

I know I can be pretty sassy on this little blog of mine, but I assure you I am a really nice and happy gal. So on that note, I am going to take a moment to list some of the things I hate. Hate is a strong word, but I am a strong woman (see how sweet I can be?)

1. Littering. Why the fuck do people litter? Do you really want the Earth to look like crap? This especially pisses me off at parks and other places I go to enjoy the beauty of nature. Nothing makes me feel more at one with the land than some a-hole's water bottle and Subway wrapper. I knew Jose was a keeper when he told me he once threw a wadded up fast food wrapper from his car floor into a woman's window in a traffic jam after he watched her litter....Captain Planet would be proud of you boo.

                                                                                     

2. When my hair gets wrapped around my necklaces and forms a crazy knot at the clasp. That shit is nasty. I wish I could just stop shedding all together, I honestly think I shed more than my dog.

3. Racism. That's all I will say about it. It gets me madder than a wet hen, I have thrown people out of my house for racist comments. Jokes are ok, hatred ain't.

4. That little snot wad that forms on lotion bottles. I love to grease myself up with lotion at least twice a day, but the clumps sick me out something fierce.

5. People who are dicks to the handicapped. My uncle Kenny (also known as the greatest man on Earth) is special needs. I have had to witness countless people take advantage of him, make him feel bad, and look down on him my entire life. Seriously mess with Kenny and I will cut a bitch. He is cooler than all of us.

6. When Jose puts his dirty laundry on the floor of our bedroom right in front of the hamper. He is mostly pretty great, but the bastard is so messy. Sometimes I want to scream at the top of my lungs and then throw garbage at him like he did to that lady way back when.

7. When I am having the time of my life and the bar closes and no one has booze at their house. Now that I am older and wiser and have more money, this rarely happens...but it is still really shitty when they kick you out of a bar just because it is 2am and you really need like six more drinks at least.

8. Ticks. Since moving to the middle of nowhere I have had to remove 3 ticks from my body, and when I say I have had to, I mean Jose removed them while I cried. They are disgusting, I never even saw a tick in Michigan and I have always been outdoorsy-ish. Fred gets like a thousand each month and that is after we spend a small fortune on repellent. I think Obama should outlaw them.

I think that is all. If I come up with anything else I will let you all know. What are you hatin' on lately?



This one time in Paris

A few years ago after finishing my Master's degree, I decided to do what any responsible broke adult would do and rewarded myself with a trip to Europe.  So, my best frand and I got drunk on cherry wheat and bought tickets to Spain one fateful evening.  We had a mutual friend who was living in England, so the plan was he would meet us in Madrid and from there we would fly to Paris, then Portugal, and back to Madrid. I could write an entire book on this trip and maybe I will one day, but for now I will just share a bit about Paris.

For their protection, I have changed the names of my travel buddies. We will call him Beavis and her R. Kelly...they may run for office one day so you can never be too careful. Anyway R. Kelly and I flew into Madrid and the plan was to meet up with Beavis at a bar we had previously selected and stay two days in Madrid before venturing on to Paris. Somehow thanks to an obscene amount of alcohol, R. Kelly and I never found Beavis. We were silly kids and didn't bring cell phones or anything logical like that. We got our own hostel and just hoped we would run into him on the street somehow. It wasn't until we arrived at the airport a few days later (completely hungover and having stayed up way too late with some Irish men) that we finally saw our dear Beavis...he was not happy with us. Luckily he had a friend living in Madrid so he was able to crash with him, but it took some serious work to un-piss him off.

(Skip to the Lourve)

We arrived in Paris that night and found a place to stay, being the wise travelers that we are, we made no advanced plans or reservations and just hoped for the best. The hotel, while anything but fancy seemed like the Ritz to us because we spent the rest of the trip in hostels. As soon as we checked in and un-loaded our bags we tromped around the city to see the sights. It was beautiful and wonderful and I can't wait to go back one day. That night, after lots of touristy antics we were excited to party it up with some Frenchies. We walked and bar crawled and really just didn't find any trouble to get into. We began to think maybe Paris is not a good party city and we would just need to enjoy the sights and save our wild sides for Portugal and Madrid.

We went to bed that night only semi-wasted and woke the next morning for more exploring, museums, and of course French baguettes. After a full day of traipsing around we decided whatever, if the bars in Paris are lame we can make our own fun. We bought a fifth of Bacardi, a 2-liter of Diet Coke, and a pack of cigarettes (when in France, right?? JK I used to be a smoker...I know gross). We went back to our tiny room and chain smoked and killed that fifth. There was no ice machine in the hotel so we enjoyed our rum and diets nice and warm, in Paris, in August.

After all that booze we decided a nice dinner was in order and figured we would then call it a night. We found a cute restaurant and ordered a bottle of wine and some food. After two bottles and a light meal, we asked our waitress where was a good place to find rowdy bars. We told her about our dilemma the night before and she drew us a map on a napkin of the best area to party and also gave our cab driver directions. Whoever said the French are rude has clearly never traveled with me.

(our map)

The first place we walked into turned out to be a death metal bar. We sat down ordered a few drinks and got to talking to some of the locals. When asked if she liked death metal, R. Kelly replied, "oh ya! I love Nickleback!" Beavis was scared for our lives and ordered the entire bar a round of shots. He made us leave right after, I don't know why he was so concerned because even death metal dudes love boobs, we all know that.

The next bar we wandered to was a gay bar where Beavis was kindly asked by the waiter, "what is the point of you?" We still don't know French waiter, we still don't know.

Several stops later we found ourselves in a Canadian bar. By this time we were drunker than your average bear, and we soon made friends with a very attractive and wealthy couple from Chicago, as well as an Australian bartender, and a Dutch dude. R. Kelly and I kissed boys from multiple continents that night, we are worldly like that. After closing the bar, the couple invited the Aussie, the Dutch boy, and us back to their hotel. As drunk as I was, I still remember it was the fanciest hotel I have ever set foot in. I wish I had taken photos, but sadly I did not. We all went to the room and continued to drink and kiss boys. It was delightful. Eventually it was decided we should all go to the strip club. We got in a few cabs and were deposited in front of a strip club (while I have no record of the exact time, I imagine it was 4 or 5 am by this point). The Chicago husband paid for every one's admission and we were about to go in when one of my friends (I won't say who) could no longer stand or walk. 

The three of us made our first responsible decision of the night and bid farewell to our new friends and skipped the strip club. The only way we made it back to the hotel was by showing the cab driver a photo of our hotel, we had no recollection of the cross streets naturally. That night the friend that was too drunk to stand also took the liberty of peeing on the other two when we were trying to get him/her to bed. It sounds gross but when you are that drunk it is not really a big deal. We laugh about it now. I vaguely remember setting our alarms as we had a somewhat early flight to Portugal the next morning.

When Beavis woke us up in a panic, we all realized we had over slept. Our flight had left over an hour beforeand we now were stuck in Paris. We got a bus to the airport and it was by far the worst ride of my life. We had the hangovers to match all hangovers. On the hour long bus trip we all agreed we would be perfectly content to be executed at that point in our lives as we felt too shitty to bare. When we finally got to the airport to attempt to get on a later flight we were told not only had we missed our plane, but we were at the wrong airport. Such a smart bunch we are. $400 each later we were on a plane back to Madrid, and to this day none of us has been to Portugal....and you know what??? I don't regret a second of it.

The one day weekend

I have a pretty great job.  For some reason about five years ago someone decided to take a chance on an unknown kid, and gave me a job as an event planner.  It is crazy to think that someone pays me to organize shit and boss people around.  Those are skills I have excelled at since childhood, just ask my sister, I am as bossy as they come. 

There are not many things about event planning I don't like.  I love the chaos, the fact that after a lot of hard work I get to see the results the day of, I love organizing (especially using post its and colorful folders), and mostly I enjoy interacting with people.  Even the ones who drive me nuts.  Another good thing, is a lot of said events involve alcohol....I never have more than one, but sometimes it is pretty kick ass to be able to have a drink during work.  Right now I plan events for a history museum and it is pretty awesome watching kids and families have a blast at a program I put on.  My first event of the year was Saturday.

Everything went well, but I was reminded of the downside of my job....working on the weekend.  Not every weekend, but quite a handful of them this lucky lady gets to spend at least one of her days at work.  That is not ideal.  I live for the weekend.  Waking up at 6 on Saturday is a sin if you ask me.  I prefer to go to bed at that time.  Also, Fred does not understand if I worked on Saturday, I sure as hell plan to sleep in on Sunday.  He instead lays all 100 pounds of himself on me until I wake up.

I am a good mom, so I get up and take him to the park.  When we get back and I am ready to enjoy the day after being rudely awakened, he is suddenly exhausted.  Kids, you can't win with them.

The worst part about the one day weekend is on Sunday when you go to bed it feels like Saturday and you get excited thinking you have another whole day to do whatever you please, then you remember you have to wake up bright and early and head back to work.  I get to work this coming Saturday too.  Ohh welll, I will have to make up for it the following weekend.  What did you trouble makers get in to this weekend?

Why being a grown up doesn't blow

The other day I posted about the craptastic aspects of adult life...I may have sounded like a negative Nancy.  Well, I assure you I am not.  I am actually one of the happier campers I know.  So to bring a little sunshine to your day, here are all the reasons you should relish in growing older. 

1.  You get to live in your own apartment.  It might cost an arm and a leg depending on where you live, but good lord is it nice.  You don't have to wait until your parents are out of town to throw a party, you can walk around naked, and you can clean your room when and if you want.  Oh yea, you can also have boys in your room with the door closed, hell they can even spend the night if you want...but you should probably just kick them out after you get what you want.  Roommates and boyfriends are cool and all, but everyone should live completely alone for at least a little while...it is amazing.

2.  You get paid vacation and sick days from your job.   There is nothing sweeter in the world than the first paid vacation you take.  Not being at work, checking your bank account online and seeing your paycheck deposited when you are not working in any way, shape, or form is a feeling like no other.  And just like you did in high school you can lie about being sick and play hookie from work to do fun shit.

3.  Making more than minimum wage.  Times be tough, but when you finally find a decent paying grown up job you actually like, it is pretty cool to be able to make enough money to do most of the things you want.  If you use a little bit of your parent's advice on saving you can have a pretty good life on not a huge salary.

4.  Being allowed to get an animal.  Your mom and dad can no longer crush your hopes and dreams of having a puppy.  Feel free to get one.  Not a cat though, cats are terrible.  A dog will bring you endless joy....just remember you're a grown ass woman now so you gotta take care of it.

5.  Not having a curfew.  Want to stay out drinking until 7am?? Go for it.  Your mom won't be there to judge you when you get home...shit get breakfast after and stay out until 9.  You can also sleep in as late as you want.

6.  Being able to decide where you want to live.  You no longer have to stay in the suburbs or even the state where your parents live.  You can go where ever the heck you want.  This freedom is pretty sweet.  Just remember if you are far away from mom and dad they can't watch your dog.

7.  That's really all I can think of. 

Also, Fred is home from his vaca and I am elated :) Another thing that makes me happy is this lovely blog called Venus Trapped in Mars.  It is a great read, and she is currently allowing people to steal her gorgeous baseball iPhone screen savers.  I mean how cute is my second faveorite team??  Cute I tell you, it's cute.

Spring Break

So Jose has not had to work for the past two weeks.  He is between projects at his job, and they laid him off with pay until the new one starts.  I am incredibly jealous and have been begging my boss to lay me off since I found out. So far I have not had any luck. The first week he spent his time day drinking, hiking, and enjoying the beautiful weather we have been having. Every morning when I woke up to go to work and he was sleeping in, I wanted to kick him...or just stay home with him.

In lieu of his second week of freedom, Jose decided to take Fred the dog backpacking in the Shenandoah Mountains.  They left on Sunday morning, and I now know what parents must feel like when their teenagers go off on spring break. I am worried about my little baby. Speaking of,  I wonder how kids convince their parents to allow them to go on spring break in high school. I remember I thought my parents were the two worst humans on earth when they would not let me go to Acapulco my senior year. I didn't know how they could be so mean. Once I got to college and they could no longer control my travels I went to Jamaica for spring break, I have not been able to look at Red Stripe or rum the same way since. Looking back I now realize why they wouldn't let me go.  Dear lord the bad decisions I made at 20, I cannot imagine being on spring break at 17. I guarantee if I didn't wind up in jail, I would have a Mexican baby and several STDs by now had they let me go to Mexico when I was in high school.

Jose packed his and Fred's backpacks and I'm sure they are having a great time. To be honest I would rather go somewhere tropical than backpacking in the woods for spring break, but I would take any type of vacation I can get at this point. I hope my baby is having a good time, not drinking too much, and putting on his sunscreen.

What was your best spring break?

Why being a grown up blows

1.  Everything is freaking expensive.  You realize when you choose to move out (or mom and dad cut you off) that you will have to pay rent and the electric company and what not, but there is so much more.  You have no idea how friggen expensive food is.  And toothpaste, and cleaning supplies.  It is never ending.  Oh that sweet iPhone your parents used to pay for....wait until you get your first phone bill.  Don't even get me started on cars, there is always something they need.  There is nothing worse than spending your hard earned money on things you don't even want, like dish soap and tampons.  Seriously, stay home as long as you possibly can.

2.  Cleaning, your mom probably won't do it for you after you move out, and even a small apartment requires a good scrub down more than you will expect it to. You have to remember to do laundry too and it sucks.

3.  Remembering to pay bills.  You have to actually remember to take care of things like bills and appointments, or your shit will get shut off. And that is all on top of work....I need a drink.

4.  Speaking of, when you get old you get hungover when you drink.  Like real hungover....and that is not a good state to be in at work if you care about your career in the least.

5.  I almost forgot, you have to worry about a career.  Gone are the days of scooping ice cream and not giving a shit, now you need to try and pad your resume and "network".

6.  When you get a real job you often have to work above and beyond regular hours, it sucks...they never made me join committees or go to meetings back when I worked at Dairy Queen.

7.  Your friends all start to get married, have kids, and buy houses....they remind you daily how old you are when you see their pregnant pics on Facebook.  It's gross.

8.  You can no longer eat whatever you want and stay thin (well some people can but you will grow to hate them).  I ate nothing but chips and dip and vodka in college and I was a twig.  Now I have to juice and eat a salad everyday to feel healthy.

9.  There are no summer vacations.  This is the hardest reality to face.  Being stuck at work in the summer never gets easier.  Never.

10.  If you drink every night like you do in college, people judge you....plus see reason 4. 

What happens when an event planner has a BBQ

We may not have shopping malls or organic grocery stores in Southern Maryland, but we sure have had some beautiful weather lately. Several days last week it go up to 90, with no humidity...AKA amazing.  This weekend was pretty perfect as well so Jose decided to have a BBQ and invited some of his little boyfriends over to grill up a bunch of dead animals and drink too much beer.

He decided to invite me too, because well we live together and he had no other choice. Naturally I had to take over and buy all kinds of accessories.  He really doesn't understand why things have to look good, but we all know food tastes better off a cute plate.  Look at these little gems I found at Target.

And a sweet tie for my little gentleman.  Yes, it says master of the grill.

I also bought cute napkins. I don't understand, none of the guys even commented on the plates. Some of them didn't even use one and just ate with their hands like total barbarians.  Drunk men, what can you do with them.  I'm glad I didn't buy the decorative garland, bacon shaped ice cube trays, and other BBQ accessories like I wanted to because the guys just did not appreciate any of it. What they did appreciate was a crazy ass drunk man that walked up to our party.  We were all sitting around a table on the lawn in front of our apartment, when two men walked up, I assumed they were heading to a neighbors house and just wanted to say hi. Instead they came over, told us they smelled the BBQ and wanted to know if they could eat with us. After a few sentences it was clear that they were bother drunker than I was on my 21st birthday. The younger of the two (they were both over 40) proceeded to tell us how he had been at another cook out and the food was terrible so he was still hungry.  He then pulled a steak out of his pocket.  I repeat, he pulled a steak out of his pocket.  "See how tough it is?" He said.  "I could assault you all with it, your dog won't even eat this steak".  He then threw the steak on the ground and Fred did in fact eat it.

The entire time I was laughing too hard to really figure out what was going on.  He told my girlfriend Natasha repeatedly that she looked mean, and then proceeded to take off with his friend.  I really just want to hang out with these two everyday.  I have no idea how they wound up at our house, they don't live in our complex so it is quite a mystery.

Just an old fashioned love song

I see so many bloggers posting about their beautiful love story.  How they met in some romantic way, he swept her off her feet, then they got married, and Jesus sang a song at their wedding while doves flew by.  I kid, but I seriously love reading that shit.  I am a romantic sap despite all my attempts not to be.

I wanted to share with you my own touching story of romance and delight, so you can know a little more about manfriend and I.

After I finished grad school, I quit my full time job to take an unpaid internship, like any reasonable person might.  In order to support my serious alcohol addiction and credit card bills, I needed a part time job so I went back to my old standby and got a gig as a bartender.  I have bartended/waitressed on and off for over 8 years.  I love it.

The bar I worked at was a brewery with a ton of regulars, this was back in Michigan by the way.  All the regulars were BFF's and they would always talk about this guy Jose.  I had never met him because he was working in Toledo when I started at the pub.  I heard about how he was a wild child and people would go on and on about him.

I finally met him when he finished the job in Toledo and showed up at the bar on a Monday morning.  He ordered a coffee and was having a really rough day because of his massive hangover and the fact that he could not find his car to save his life.  I instantly knew we would be friends.

He started coming up to the bar from time to time and we got to know each other a little better.  One afternoon when I had just finished the day shift he offered to buy me a beer so I stuck around on the other side of the bar.  We had a few drinks then I asked him if he wanted to meet up with a friend of mine at another bar.  We went.  We both fell that night...not in love, but me in the middle of the bar when I slipped on my flip flop and he off a bar stool.  We aren't clumsy just real wasted...don't judge.

We hung out a few more times, once or twice we even ate instead of drank.  I started going to parties at his house, and eventually we got drunk enough to make out.  Somehow he wound up living in my apartment across the country with me.  Oh yeah I convinced him to get a dog along the way too...it's all kind of a blur really.

The juice

For an entire summer about two years ago I was real addicted to this type of juice:

If you have never tried it, it doesn't taste very good but it sure does get you jacked up.  It is probably about the same as drinking seven red bulls and having a few shots of vodka. 

In the last few weeks however I have developed an addiction to a new type of juice:

The kind made from veggies and fruits.  I have always been very into recycling, and using organic products, but for some reason I haven't jumped on the organic/clean eating bandwagon until the last few months.  I am not really sure why, I have alway believed this is a good way to live, but I have been feeding myself crap food for a long time.  I've always eaten a lot of fruits and vegetables (even as a kid I loved brussel sprouts because they looked like heads of lettuce for a Barbie) but in addition to the good foods, I was also consuming a ton of processed foods, fried food, and other junk I know I should not have been eating.

I think I always looked at going to a totally healthy diet as just that a diet.  I hate diets, I hate to be told what to do period to be honest.  I never last long on a diet.  I have sort of ditched that attitude lately though and am eating healthy foods because I want to not because I have to.  Because I like them not because I want to loose weight.  I know why I ate like crap in my younger years and that is because I was in a state of perpetual hangover and we all know junk food is the best cure for that, but the past two years I am only hungover about once a week, so I am not sure why I was continuing to eat badly.

I am not saying I will never eat junk food again, hell no!  I will murder a chili dog when I am drunked up, and if I want some cookies or cool ranch doritos from time to time you bet your ass they are going into my mouth.  I just have been feeling a million times better and am seeing some pounds come off since I stopped trying to diet and just started eating better.

I am no expert on this subject, and there is still a lot of extra junk in my trunk so my health tips are worth about as much as Lindsey Lohan's sobriety advice, but I know how I feel lately and that is good.  Plus they make a lot of organic beers, wines, and vodkas now that it is the trendy thing to do so the lifestyle has been easy to adjust to.  Seriously though, I highly reccomend juicing, I have been starting almost every morning with a glass and I am loving it.

The old ball game

The only thing my boyfriend loves more than craft beer and our dog is baseball.  The man is obsessed.  Luckily I am a fan too, but mostly because I kind of want to bang many of the players and enjoy beer and hot dogs. 

Last night we went to the Nationals game.  The nationals are only my fourth favorite team, but I love the stadium and the tickets were only $9 so I decided to go along...plus I am starting to really enjoy watching the games, which I never thought was possible.  DC is about an hour and 20 minute drive from BFE where we live.  If you don't know what BFE stands for it is basically the middle of nowhere but with a swear word.  You can probably google it.

The evening was really fun, we had a few beers, the Nats won, it was an exciting game, and I was once again reminded I need to move to DC like yesterday.

(My face looks huge here too, I really need to learn to take better pics of myself or I will get fired as a blogger, I swear it's not that big a face)

You may not know this about me but I am a lover of lists.  I have a list for everything under the sun and you are in luck because I decided to make a new one for your reading pleasure.

Things I like about baseball

-Trying to decide which song I would pick to step up to the plate to. 

-The food. We were good last night and brought our own sandwiches...but the nachos looked better. (I also learned if you bring a huge heavy bag filled with bottled water and healthy snacks they won't bother searching it...I am bringing a fifth next time)

-Trying to decide which player I want to sleep with the most.

-Trying to decide which player I want to sleep with the least.

-Listening to the conversations going on around me.

-People watching.

-Cheering and pretending I know what is going on, then asking Jose what happened.

-Paying $9 for a can of beer.  (or $11 for a mixed drink...that might be a better deal)

-Trying to get on TV when they scan the audience.

-Wearing cute hats.

A week of firsts

I have been described as a party girl by everyone I meet since I was about 2 years old, so as you may imagine I have lived a pretty wild life these past 28 years.  There are not too many things I have not tried.

This week however, much like Madonna, I made it through the wilderness and can cross several items off my never have I ever list. 

I will start by telling you about the most shocking first.  I am actually still not sure if this one actually happened or I dreamed it.  Today, for the first time in my entire life I woke up early and went to the gym before work.  This may not sound like much to some, but I have been setting my alarm an hour early to work out almost every day for the past 4 years.  Never once have I gotten out of bed to do anything other than hit snooze.  Not today though, today I got up at 5:50am, and went to yoga!  When I got into the class I saw this girl I work with who is actually a former model.  She has zero percent body fat and more muscles than you can imagine, so I am not sure what the hell she was doing in a gym at 6am.  If I were her I would be in bed eating pancakes....but I guess that is why I am not a former model.

Next up is the first time buying and wearing skinny jeans.  The reason I got up an hour before I prefer to and have been eating way too many salads lately, is because I am trying to shed an Olsen twin or two before the summer.  That being said I never, ever try on skinny jeans when I go shopping.  Last Thursday however, I decided I needed new clothes before flying to Michigan.  I decide I need new clothes anytime I go on a trip, even if it is only for one night.  Where I live there are approximately six stores: Walmart, Target, Old Navy, Kohl's, JcPenny, and Marshalls.  That is it...and let me tell you pickings are slim in all of them.  I miss malls.  I went to every single store (except Walmart, I won't set foot in there unless I just want to laugh at people) and found nothing.  Then at the store I expected to have the least luck at, Old Navy, I found a pair of jeans called the Rock Star that claimed to look great on every body type.  Bullshit, I thought.  Any time something says one size fits all or looks good on everyone, I am leery.  But it was try them on or go home empty handed, and naturally that was not an option.  So I tried them on and to my shock and delight I love them.  They are stretchy and I typically hate stretchy jeans because they fit for about ten minutes then look like you are wearing a diaper when they stretch out.  These little gems are the exception to that rule.  I don't want to take them off....ever.

I guess the new skinny jeans turned me into a whole new woman, because I also decided while I was shopping with a friend in Michigan over the weekend that I need to start wearing make up.  I hate to admit it, but I am 28 years old and with the exception of an awkward orange faced year in middle school thanks to Walgreen's cosmetics, I have never ever put any foundation on my face.  I will occasionally dab on a bit of bronzer, and I do wear mascara; sometimes even a little eyeliner if I am feeling frisky, but never any gunk on my face.  I guess the fact that I am pretty broke right now, and the new Rock Star mentality made me decide to get myself made over.  I walked in to Bare Minerals told the girl I don't wear makeup and want to start, and she knew she had found the idiot client of her dreams.  I want something that doesn't feel like make up I said.  She spent a few minutes putting some powder on my face.  When she was done, I looked exactly the same as when I walked in.  Obviously I bought over a hundred dollars worth of shit.  She even made me a worksheet of how to apply the make up myself at home.  I am not that good at it.  Apparently when you spend an arm and a leg at Bare Minerals, they really like you.  I gave them my email address when I paid because they told me to, this was Sunday mind you, and I have already received about 5 emails.  It's getting a little annoying, because when my phone says I have an email I get real excited and think it is going to be something good and now it is just make up news.

Now that I wear make up and skinny jeans, my boyfriend wants to take me on dates to show me off, so last night he scooped me up from work and we went to see the DC cherry blossoms for the first time.  Since we moved here people have been talking these little trees up.  Everyone says how beautiful they are and that it is a sight to be seen, yada yada yada.  The cherry blossoms only bloom for a short window of time, so we decided to check them out yesterday and I have to say they were not overrated like so many things in life.  They surround the tidal basin, and at some points you look up and all you see are flowers.  It is pretty impressive.  The weather was also absolutely perfect and it once again made me realize how shitty where we live is.  Maybe the Smithsonian will hire me soon and I can just get a row house in DC already.

The last first, I don't think I can handle any more for a few days, is flip flops.  Rumor has it the temps will reach 80 today!  You heard me eight zero.  So today marks the first day of the year I am wearing flip flops to work.  It is not the first day I have worn flip flops, hell no...I am from Michigan I will wear them in January, but not to work.  One good thing about living in the boondocks is I get to wear whatever I want to work.  I am pretty sure I could arrive in sweatpants and no one would look twice.  Luckily I don't own any.  I don't think they will let me wear skinny jeans, a white tee shirt, and flip flops when I get a fancy job in DC.

I will leave you with a few photos of our cherry blossom adventures last night. 

(Jose made a new friend)

(I look mad, but I'm not, or maybe I am because my face looks large in this pic)

(The fortune cookie I got at dinner changed my life)

There's no crying in baseball

Well, to be honest there was some crying.  And some swearing, and yelling and being a little brat, but that was after twelve hours of drinking, no food, and very little sleep.  I apologized to manfriend in the morning, and that's all I will say about that because honestly it doesn't paint me in the best light. But hey no one is perfect right?

Friday morning, Jose and I flew back to our hometown to celebrate opening day of Tiger's baseball and meet my new nephew.  It was a pretty great weekend to say the least. 

Jose's dad came to scoop us up from the airport at 8am when we landed with Jose's brother in tow.  After a short ride downtown, their dad dropped the three of us us off on a street corner like good little hookers.  We walked to the nearest bar and met up with my college roommates.  I had three beers and a shot before 10am.  Always a great idea.

I love baseball.  There is no better team than the Tigers, and there is no better party than opening day in Detroit.  We didn't even go to the game, just bar hopped around the city meeting up with friends and binge drinking to our hearts content.  I went into opening day with a strict set of rules for myself.  I was going to drink only Miller lite, have only a few shots throughout the day, drink lots of water, and eat lunch and dinner.  I did none of those things.  I consumed nothing but beer, liquor, wine, shots, more shots, and no food.  Scratch that, I did have a few M&Ms at one point.  About three bars in Jose's brother decided gin martinis were a good plan.  I sucked it down like a champ.  Next bar was Irish car bombs, then tequila shots, fruity shots, all washed down with plenty of beer.  Lord help me.  Despite breaking all my rules, I had a really wonderful time and got to see a lot of my friends.  I had a melt down at the end of the night when we got back to Jose's brothers house to sleep but what good is a relationship if you don't freak out on your partner from time to time.

This is not how I looked on opening day.  I can't even post those photos, to say I looked like a crack whore would be a nice compliment.  It has been a long time since I had that much to drink and it don't look pretty on me.  This is a photo from last week when Jose and I went to Alexandria for dinner.  (oh yeah I'm calling him Jose for now because I am sick of typing manfriend all the time).


Saturday I shockingly woke up sans hangover.  Apparently Jesus loves me after all.  I got up and headed to my sisters house to hang with the family.  First I took my three year old niece Evelyn to Build a Bear.  She made a little beaut she named Princessy.  It cost me a small fortune because the people at Build a Bear have learned a real good scam.  They ask the child if they want each of the zillion add ons not the adult who has the credit card.  "ohh Evie, do you want a little scent chip for your bear, do you want a sound box, etc, etc..."  I even bought underwear for Princessy.  What adult in their right mind is going to tell a child, "oh no sorry, you don't get a scent chip for your bear, I am cheap and don't love you enough".  Needless to say Princessy smells like cupcakes.  We walked around the mall after making the bear.  My niece is seriously amazing and awesome.  At one point she said, "I could have another surprise if you want", to which I replied, "ohh really what do you want?"  "I will know when I see it,"  she said.  Seriously you can't make that shit up.  She is  the coolest.

We got ice cream, then headed back to my sister's house and hung out.  I held Evie's new brother Arthur (making him the fourth baby I have ever held in my life...Evie was the first).  He is two weeks old so his personality leaves a little something to be desired, but I am sure he is working on it.  My best friend and her mom stopped by and my mombo was there so it was nice to sit around and gossip.  That night my parents, my best friend from high school, and I had a nice dinner and some drinks.  Apparently my parents are into "shooters" these days, and my dad was feeding us mini beer shots all evening.  A little later my best friend from college came over, we went to one of my old stomping ground bars and had a few drinks.  Sunday morning, I had breakfast with my crazy friend Derek and his wife and baby.  We did a little shopping and then I headed back to my parent's house.  My sister and brother in law, the kids, and two of my best buds came over for a huge lunch.  

Sorry it's blurry....but so is my life these days.  Then that was it.  Around 3:30 we picked up Jose and my parents drove us back to the airport.  I loved every minute of it and can't wait for my next visit.  I am also so excited for baseball season!