1-Did she cash out her 401(k) and go on an Eat, Pray, Love adventure to find herself and eventually ‘the one’? Is she currently getting really good at meditation and yoga and gluttony and narcissism?
2-Did she get a new job that doesn’t allow her to blog and express herself freely but it’s ok because it’s a job that actually puts her skills to use instead of the mind-numbing repetitive nature of her job at Steal Your Soul, Inc?
3-Did she get bit by a rabid raccoon and has been undergoing a series of very painful treatments to cure her “foaming mouth” disease?
4-Did she meet the man of her dreams and has been so busy “nesting” and planning her upcoming nuptials she hasn’t had the time nor desire to write self-deprecating blog posts about drinking too much and making out with people?
5-Has she run out of new material mainly because too many people she knows “in real life” read this, thus making it next to impossible to write about what’s “real” and “funny” and “zany” anymore?
It's OK, I don't know what any of that is, either.
Foodie (noun). A made up word one pretentiously calls oneself to let you know they eat food better than you. Those who use this word in a non-ironic manner alert everyone they are going to talk about the meal they prepared last night in excruciating detail, much to the disdain of those around them. For example:
Foodie: “I prepared the most amazing lamb shank last night with a fantastic ginger and cilantro rub. Although you would think the ginger and cilantro would fight against each other, the tenderness and gaminess of the lamb really helped blend the flavor profiles beautifully. I even paired it with a fantastic seasonal IPA I found at this new market around the corner. Definitely making that again around holidays. Plus also, ceviche.”
You: (Blank Stare). “Oh. Ok.”
Foodies spend an abnormal portion of their free time talking about “the best” of any and every type of food. Which restaurant has the best Cuban sandwich? Where can you find the best crab benedict asparagus breakfast burrito omelet? How about the best Thai-Korean-Ethiopian taco truck? Whereas there is no end to discovering the “best of” any type of consumable good, for some reason that is beyond comprehension, coffee and pizza seem to be the holy grail of “best of”. Foodies, if left to their own devices, would talk about coffee and pizza 92-93% of the time, with the remaining 8-7% spent discussing next spring’s vegetable garden.
When one encounters a foodie, it is best to simply nod your head and heartily agree with all of their recommendations and concur that is next to impossible to find a decent tuna tartare in this god damn town, but yes, that new Ugandan place down the street is going to be the best thing to happen to restaurants in the history of the world.
It recently was brought to my attention that I’ve been talking about things I don’t like versus things I like and could I maybe do that for a change? Even though that goes against every fiber of my being, I’ll go ahead and throw y’all a bone. Behold my Top Five Things TLW likes right now!
1-Liking things on Facespace. Nothing makes me happier more than “liking” when one of my friends posts something like “SO SICK OF THIS COLD!” (like) or “I HATE MONDAYS!” (like) or “PREGNANT AND DON’T KNOW WHO THE BABY DADDY BE!” (extra like). I’ve even gone so far as to actually express this aloud when a friend announces bad news. I.e. Friend: “I’m so broke”, Me: “TLW likes this.”. God, I’m such a bitch. Why does anyone want to be my friend?
2-This song. Listen and enjoy. If you don’t like it, you’re really dumb, for real. I can (and do!) listen to it on repeat numerous times a day. Suck it.
3-My Halloween costume. It’s going to incite major LOLs and I can’t wait. It’s gonna be the tits! If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll see me stumbling around RVA in it in a few weeks.
4-Bad Girls Club. If you don’t think this show is the funniest thing on TV, then I feel really, really bad for. Check it:
5-My ex husband’s fat new girlfriend. To be honest, she’s not “new” as I’m pretty sure they were banging when we were still married, but they did break up and get back together and now they’re Facespace official! Yay! Good for you, poppet! I hope y’all enjoy getting zany in Downtown Short Pump together. So many white people! JUST LIKE YOU!
The longer I’m alive the more I realize I’m bothered by things that most people don’t even give a second thought to (i.e. Bed & Breakfasts and checking my mail). Conversely, things that make other people go bananas don’t faze me in the slightest (i.e. my pollen covered kitchen floor I didn’t clean for weeks last Spring). Please see below:
Things I can’t stand:
People who back into parking spaces. I hate you. You’re wasting everyone’s time. Just. Pull. In. This morning I saw a woman hold up traffic in my parking deck by backing in her space. In the amount of time it took her to park, I parked my car and walked the length of the deck to the stairs. Please note she was still parking when I descended the stairs, so she could still be sitting there readjusting her stupid spot for all I know.
Riding in elevators with strangers. This creeps me out to no end. I will walk up a trillion flights of stairs before I ride in an elevator with someone I don’t know. Standing so close to a person in silence is maybe second to none to getting a gynecological exam whilst talking about your vacation plans. (Hi, you’re feeling my ovaries; I don’t want to talk about The Outer Banks right now.) The more people in the elevator, the worse it is and I start to feel like a trapped Chilean miner within seconds of the elevators doors closing, but without the psychological treatment they’re receiving on the daily.
Going to the movies. I don’t like people telling me I need to be someplace to watch something. Similarly, I do not watch anything on TV when it actually airs. If it’s not OnDemand, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I do things when I want to do them, not when The Man says I should. Run and tell dat, homeboy!
Cleaning things that don’t need to be cleaned. Did you know some people bring cleaning supplies with them when they stay in a hotel? Me either. Did you know some people clean the inside of their washing machines? Same. How about people that actually take the time to store their winter or summer clothes properly and place dryer sheets between them? Who are these people? Where did you learn to do this? I’m scared. Leave me now, go live your weird, strange life.
Things that don’t bother me:
My moldy shower. This would really skeeve a lot of people out, and understandably so, but for some reason my shower mold is kinda like an old friend. We hang out a little bit every day (ish) and catch up on life events. I heart my shower mold. Don’t go changin’, boo! I like you just the way you are!
Eating the same thing everyday. I don’t really care that much about food, thus eating the exact same thing everyday does not annoy me. I pretty much just eat whatever is the cheapest thing at the grocery store that week because I’m too poor to eat fancy. Pass me the peanut butter, bitches!
Unorganized closets and kitchen cabinets. I was shocked and appalled when I recently discovered that people organize these things. Like for real. They’re straight up neat. I had gone all of these years assuming everyone just shoved their crap in the closet like I did and shut the door. I mean, why wouldn’t you? Isn’t that what closets are for? To store all of your stuff you don’t want out and about? You don’t see the inside of the closet and/or cabinets so why does it need to be organized? I’ve got better uses of my time than organizing a closet. Like napping. Or petting my dogs.
You know what I hate? Oily pelicans. I also don’t care for sea turtles being set on fire alive. Dead dolphins really make me sad, too. I hate BP. Fuck those assholes. Besides getting into fights with Brits (and then subsequently making out with them) and cheering against England hard during the World Cup, what else can a gal do? I’m not Al Gore. I didn’t invent the internets and get an inappropriate massage. I’m just a small town girl living in a lonely world.
Oh, wait. Here’s a thought. How about you and all of your friends and real dolls go to the Gulf Give RVA fundraiser on Thursday? It’s at Legend’s Brewery, which is fucking awesome. There will be bands and a silent auction which is amazing. I’ll be there, so you know it’s going to kick ass. All of the proceeds go to The Gulf Restoration Network, which, if you didn’t know, is pretty busy these days.
Bands and brewskies to help the Gulf? Well, I don’t mind if I do, gov’nah! See you poppets, there!
Happy Tuesday, everybody! What did everyone get into this weekend? Cookouts? Sparklers? Did you take your real doll to the beach and dress her in a red, white and blue bikini? Fun! As we all know, this past weekend was the Fourth O’ July, the holiday we celebrate our independence from England and our dependence of foreign oil. BOOM! I’m sure Tony Hayward was all, “check mate, America”, this weekend whilst yachting, but that’s just a guess. Speaking of the BP oil spill, this subject is now 100% off-limits after my first glass of wine. I get too riled up and want to punch people in the face. (Seriously). On Friday I almost roundhouse kicked a poor British chap. Granted, I made out with him later (you’re welcome) to make up for it, but still. Totally unacceptable.
The rest of my weekend was much more low-key. Saturday night was cocktails at Balliceaux where I had the best drink ever. Holler if you see me at that club because I will thoroughly be enjoying my new favorite drink and will more than likely be nice to you, unless you bring up BP, and then I’ll smash.
I was feeling antisocial on Sunday and took a knee on the Fourth. Instead of going out carousing and boozing, I decided to get lit like a firecracker from the comfort of my own sofa! One of my favorite things to do when I’m stony maroni is watching movies that make me lol hard. Hot Tub Time Machine was not that movie. A side effect when I’m in an Empire State of Mind is that I: 1- get the hearing of a kitty cat and 2- overanalyze shit. For example, how come the fat kid’s mom stayed 18 years old at the end of the movie? Everyone else aged, but not her. That means the fat kid’s mom is like his age in present day? Gross. I’ve been thinking about it nonstop since Sunday.
After laughing none at Hot Tub Time Machine, I decided to kick it old school and watch There’s Something About Mary, a movie that I remember being funny, but then again it came out in 1998 and we were all a lot more innocent back then (pre 9-11, never forget). Anywhoos, here’s my problem with this one: why does he hire a private investigator instead of using…oh I don’t know…THE INTERNET? Granted, I realize it was 1998 and we were still using hotmail and shit, but seriously? A private investigator? All of the trouble could have been avoided by hopping on AOL and doing a quick search. I mean!
So there you have it folks, my weekend in a nutshell. I hope you all had a great time celebrating America’s birthday. Pelican’s look sexier black, anyways! Pip, pip, poppets!
The one year anniversary of the King of Pop’s death is Friday but you know what? I don’t give a shit about that. Besides the fact that he was a freaky weirdo child molester who named his child Blanket (wtf is up with that), June 25th is my Special Divorce Day! Holler loudly, y’all. Yep, on Friday it will be one year to the day when I found out I was officially single again. Exciting. Anniversaries are great opportunities to reflect and see what’s changed in the past 365 days. Let’s take a looksie, shall we?
Career: Or should I say “career”? Same shit job with no prospects or plan of action of moving on to something better. There are days when I consider quitting my job, cashing out my 401(k) and moving to Costa Rica. Then I remember that’s crazy and that the BP Oil Spill will kill us all, so I just come in here and fantasize about the day I won’t be here anymore.
Dating: Blech. Zero improvement from this time last year with no one new on the horizon at this time. I will say this though, I’m a pro at attending various events solo including, but not limited to: weddings, funerals, Holiday gatherings, going away parties, coming home parties, backyard BBQ’s, fancy dinners, baptisms, pumpkin carving get togethers, all couples (but me of course) drunk fests, birthday parties, anniversary parties, engagement parties, etc., etc. ad nauseam into infinity. Yeah!
Friends and Family:Juuuuuuuust fine. I did manage to have myself removed from my Mormon Aunt’s super conservative forward e-mail list so that’s rad.
So there you have it! See what a difference a year can make? Like sands through an hourglass, these are the days of our lives. Now excuse me, I’ve got a vat of wine to drink so I can forget the depressing State of my Union.
I had a jolly good time (most of) the weekend. Since I’m broke as a joke, (PAY ME, BITCHES!) my plan on Friday afternoon was to simply sit around and breathe air all weekend. However, the best laid plans often go awry so when Barista invited me over for Sangria and porch drinks on Friday evening, I accepted the invitation straight away. The first batch of Sangria was yummers, but I asked her to verify the alcohol content as after several glasses, I was sober as a judge. She really stepped it up with the second batch and we decided we should chase our Sangria with chilled shots of Van Gogh-always a good idea, in case you were curious. When I arrived back at the crib, a good old-fashioned dog scuffle was in order at which point I played with the boys for upwards of thirty minutes and called the kitchen floor my bed for the night. It’s quite comfy there, actually!
What better way to start your Saturday morning than pregaming a regatta (right?) at 10:30 AM with Cherry Crushes? (Again, yummers). Fast forward to four o’clock and I’m at the Republic drinking PBR (Why?) and screaming “Fuck BP” every time USA does ANYTHING during the USA/England World Cup Game. If I had to pick, I would say this was the highlight of my weekend. I somehow managed to continue this bananas behavior until three in the morning thanks to several hour-long water breaks.
Needless to say, Sunday was no funday for me. Despite having one of the worst hangovers in recent history, I then had the pleasure of breaking up with my ex boyfriend for the third time. Awesome. Emotionally exhausting conversations that make me have a sad compel me eat a lot of cheese and watch shitty reality television, so my Sunday night was full of fun! I need a boyfriend (or a babysitter) ASAP. These shenanigans can not continue. All interested canidates may hit me up at cafedarkness@gmail.com. Peace out, bitches!
I have been remiss updating y’all about the comings and goings of TSaur and for that, I apologize. So here’s your T update. You’re welcome. Oh, and gross.
Even though it’s summertime in the city he still smells like mossy pennies dipped in battery acid which debunked my current hypothesis that the Smell of the Union was perchance caused by storing winter clothes near moth balls from the Civil War. Now all I can deduce is that it’s just the natural stench of someone in a constant state of dehydration (he drinks water never) combined with a high fructose corn syrup diet.
He never ceases to amaze me with his complete ignorance of current events. I’ll give him not knowing about more “worldly” events (but not really because c’mon it’s news) like Helen Thomas not liking Jewish people or the recent violence with Israel and Palestine. But, in my humble opinion unless you’re in a medically induced coma, you should know what the fuck is going on with the BP oil spill. I mean, hai, it’s a shitstorm. Anywhoos, so I was going off on my daily tangent (I have to allow myself just ten minutes per day to read about it, look at pictures and then freak out, otherwise I’ll throw a clot) when T asks me what company is responsible for the spill? At which point I said, “Uh….Seriously? BP!” Not dialing up the stupid quite high enough he then inquired if BP was an American company and what we were going to do? It took everything in me to not go completely American Psycho on his ass. I somehow dug deep and managed to squeak out “BRITISH PETROLEUM! AND WE’RE ALL FUUUUCKED” before going back to my desk and looking at pictures of unicorns so as to not completely lose control.
As far as T’s love life, he’s got himself a new gf which pisses me off beyond belief. It’s just not fair that T’s getting the sexy on the regs and I’m not. WTF is wrong with this picture?! It’s just not fair! I stalked the new gf on facespace (loveeeeee doing that) and she’s not horrendously unattractive as one might assume therefore she must be batshit crazy. End of discussion.
RVA really outdid itself this time, if I do say so myself. Things are getting increasingly more awesome. If things get any more bananas, I’m going to completely lose it. Behold my weekend in review:
Thursday was negative awesome. Without getting into the details too, too much I will say that I do *not* like receiving nasty text messages where people drop the f bomb (I’m a lady!) nor do I like being defriended on Facespace. I also do *not* like sick puppy dogs and clogging my toilet attempting to clean up after them when I get home on Thursday night. And that’s all I have to say about that.
Friday got real and then it got rad. Tacos always improve a shitty outlook on life. You know what else improves your outlook on life? Icing a bro. Yes, that happened. Other things that help improve my outlook on life is pretending I work for BP oil and apologizing (in cockney-obvi) for, “that little situation in the Gulf. Awfully sorry!” Ha! I loved it! And they loved me! I asked, “You don’t hate me? For ruining your ecosystem and all?” and they said, “No, not at all. It’s not your fault!” Pip pip, Cheerio!
Saturday involved an hour-long walk from my apartment to downtown to retrieve my car. (No DUI for me, please!) Along the way I received an invitation to brunch it up at Sidewalk which I accepted with much gusto and enthusiasm. Although a bit sweaty and dehydrated from the night prior and walk in a 100 degree weather, we managed to tie one on quite nicely if I do say so myself! Porch drinks later that night was a smashing success!
Sunday Funday? Not for me. Yesterday was Responsible Sunday despite several invitations to go out boozing. My body and bank account need a break, y’all. Dayum! I did, however, almost die from a heat stroke biking to retrieve my car. I even had to stop and take a knee half way there as I was feeling quite woozy. But worry not! My car was retrieved and I am a 100% hydrated!
So there you have it folks. Another badass weekend up in this biatch. This week should prove to hold many more opportunities for shenanigans and badassery. I’ll keep you posted. Holler if you see me in da club.
Café Darkness 