Not So Blonde

The Aftermath

I simply can’t put off updating any longer now that my blog elf has gone and cleaned things up around here a bit. I’m in love with my blog - all over again.

Well, since the last time I posted, I went and had a birthday. I used to loooove my birthdays but I don’t so much anymore. Something about that mid-(to-late) 30s thing kinda kills the “birthday joy” for me. I know I shouldn’t care and blah blah blah but I do care - at least for now… Sigh. Lately, birthdays make me kinda melancholy. ‘Tis true…

One thing I do like is when people tell me I don’t look my age. To be perfectly honest,  I couldn’t care less if they’re saying it just to be nice. They say it, I cup my ear and whisper: mooooore…

I wish I was kidding. Ohhhhh. I do! Yes! I do! Vain ass! I’m so vain, I wish this post was about me! Oh wait… it is.

Besides getting ANOTHER YEAR OLDER and actually, really feeling it? The situation wasn’t helped with the big day falling on Monday this year. Can I possibly bitch about this any more than I already have? The thing is, I like to celebrate on the day… that’s the point, right? But as it turned out, Saturday was thee day this year. The 12th isn’t a bad day, I guess. At least it’s an even number, right? Right. It’s what I kept telling myself.

I spent much of the afternoon in the salon, getting the hair did and dishing with Abel. Y’all, this man is not only a great hair stylist, he’s also cool as hell and easy to talk to. And then you tell him he makes you feel like a whole new woman and he gets all happy - it’s just better for everyone that you come from miles around for Abel’s services. Hehe. Services…. Bad girls!

After the salon, I went to Nic’s house to get ready for the night. She coached me through the application of the Bare Minerals and dear me - I have to go and order that shit already. Pay day, you hear me! The longer I wait is another day I don’t have flawless (cha!) skin in my life!

Nic and I are in the bathroom, chatting, drinking and applying makeup when R texts. It’s 7:30 at this point, reservations for Sakana (Soft-shell crab roll to the left and might I say: Eww…) are at 8 and I’m thinking: No this fool ain’t texting me when he’s supposed to be here, like, NOW.

Well R was texting me and not only that, totally faking me out - making me think he was at home when he rings the doorbell 5 minutes later.

Sigh. Why does he do this to me? Even more importantly: Why do I always fall for it?

I open the front door and took one look of that hunka hunka burnin’ love and let out a whoop. The next day, Nic told me it made her smile to hear my reaction to R.

Can I just tell you how hot R looked? He looked hot, okay? HOT. Where’s the red text when you need it? Jeez. *calling blog elf* Anyway…

Sidenote: The next day when R came downstairs (we spent the night at Nic and B’s as there was some drankin’ that was done the night before, capiche?) and walked in the kitchen looking fresh as a damn daisy (R doesn’t seem to get hangovers *karate chop to the spleen in jealous rage*), Nic’s husband remarked, “What, did you roll out of bed and into a Macy’s catalog?” R, he’s just too adorable for words. I’m so in love it’s sickening even myself.

In love, but getting off track. For my not-birthday, I ended up wearing a top I bought at Loehmann’s months ago but I had never had a chance to wear. All this time, I thought it might be too many sequins but Nic said, “It’s your birthday, there’s no such thing as too many sequins.” So I acquiesced.

See? A lot of damn sequins but I’d be lying if I didn’t feel too cute the night of my not really my birthday, birthday. I think in no small part to Abel hooking me up AGAIN.

We all trekked to Sakana for some sushi and drink and afterwards, off to Dos Gringos for buckets of beer. Literally, BUCKETS of beer. If you’ve seen the Flickr pics then you know. Mmmm… buckets. OF BEER. I loved this birthday. I really did. So fun.

The next day, after R left to do some of whatever he does when he gets the house to himself when I’m not here… Nic, B, Heather and her man and I all stayed at the pool all day. Drinking, laughing, listening to 80’s music… As much fun as that was, I was REALLY feeling it at work the next day, the actual birthday.  

I’d like to tell you the actual birthday was filled with yet even more festivities but… no. The kid had basketball practice and we had Costco pizza for dinner. Hey, it’s what I wanted. Not so much the basketball practice but the pizza - hell yeah!

The best part of the whole day was after the kid getting in the car, acting like surly teen, I told him it was my day and he wasn’t allowed to act like that. He immediately snapped out of surly teen mode and went and got real nice. I’m telling you, so nice that he didn’t even complain when I bought a case of water at Costco along with the pizza. This is UNHEARD OF. He hates carrying water! I was amazed!

While appreciated, I did find the quick turnaround rather curious since when I was a teen, I couldn’t turn it on and off like that. I was the TEEN BEE, for real. Part of the reason I never had more kids? I was too scared to have the daughter that my parents cursed me with: I hope when you have kids you have a daughter JUST LIKE YOU.

No. Thanks.

For not planning on posting that much, I went and posted a damn book. Not only that, I’m irritating myself with positioning these damn pictures. I’m easily irritated, don’t you know.

If you could only see me now. I’m sitting here with a glass of wine and ice on my back. When I said earlier that I was really feeling my age? Yeah… something is going on with my back and I’m not sure what. I have to chuckle that my back starts creaking the same week I turned 36. *cups ear* You’re not going to say it, are you? Fine.

R thinks I herniated a disk, I keep hollering I have a tumor and in the midst of it all, Advil PM has become my best friend. It sucks getting older.

I have to go watch Top Chef now. And you should, too. Someone has to commiserate with me on how ANNOYING Padma is! Go watch now! Now, I said! K thanks.

P.S. I’m going to Oregon weekend after next, and the thought of seeing my family when something bad isn’t involved makes me kinda giddy. Thanks for the ticket R!

Twittering on the edge

Between Flickr‘ing and Twitter‘ing my ass off this weekend, somewhere along the line I feel like I lost all ability to post. ha! That’s the problem, I only have so much “creative energy” (term used loosely) and it can’t possibly stretch to more than 1 or 2 things. Two and a half things, tops.

So I give you, a half-assed post.

That reminds me of this one time, when I must have been around 10, I saw my brother doing the dishes and I yelled to my mom: “Moooooooooom! Jamie is doing the dishes half-assed!” Kids! *slap knee*

In case you haven’t caught me on Twitter, Flickr, Twattr, Flocker, whatever… I have been house-sitting all weekend. At first when Nic asked I said “YES!”, with gusto. Probably for no other reason than I always say “YES!”, with gusto and agree to do things that are a few days out. It just seems so far away, ya know?

But then, the weekend drew near and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to do it. R left for San Diego Friday and I thought I’d want to stay home, cling to the cats, and cry. Glance at his side of the bed and wail. Leave glasses that he used sitting around the house and not clean them, in a makeshift shrine. R’s… lips… touched… thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis!

It’s probably best I got out of my own house. I dread going home tonight, though, Sunday. Sundays are such lonely days. There really is nothing good about them. I never really do anything, I don’t talk much to anyone, I mostly will do laundry and clean… and wait for the work week to start.

Pssht. Sundays.

Speaking of work, I love my new job. Not the “new” one I spoke about briefly before, the NEW new one. Oh, so you thought I only had to decide between a job in L.A. and a job here in Phoenix? I went and made it much more complicated. Nothing, you may find, is EVER easy with me.

I love it and that’s all I’ll say… Other than… this is my new favorite restaurant. My you-know-who at the you-know-where took me for my first day on the you-know-what.

I would have loved to have taken pictures - at every turn of my head I saw something else that caught my eye. But you can’t exactly be going around snapping photos like Herb Ritts up in the joint with your new you-know-who from the you-know-where your first day on the you-know-what without them thinking that you’re YOU-KNOW!!!

I’m quite certain the last 2 paragraphs make sense and amuse only me. *scroll up* Yeah. Completely certain.

I know it’s supposedly boring to blog about things you ate and whatnot but I ask, on what planet? I love to eat food, talk about food, take pictures of food, look at other people’s pictures of THEIR food… so on that note, I had for lunch:

turkey & brie sandwich

smoked turkey, sliced apples, melted brie, cranberry mayonnaise on cranberry walnut bread

fresh squeezed limeade

and for dessert:

lemon cake cookie

Basically, if sex formed itself into a cookie, covered itself in a scrumptious icing, was presented in a little white bag with “City Bakery” stamped on front, this would be it. I’m actually kind of scared of these cookies now: a) I know they exist and b) R’s gone. I see many of these cookies in my future.

Or, sex.

OH I KID. Stop looking at me like that! I got cookies and Ike Jr., what more could a woman possibly need? With her boyfriend, out of town, far far away??

If you don’t know who Ike Jr. is, or you have no clue - I’m not gonna tell. Use your imagination. The imagination you probably shouldn’t be using on Sunday. Yeah, that one.

Before I go lay by the pool (don’t hate, pat me on the back and say: NICE SUNBURN), I got caught up on my reality shows this weekend and I have some, shall we say, observations.

Flavor of Love: I’m pissed Prancer got cut. Mostly because Hotlanta is still there and Hotlanta skeeves me out. I was totally shocked when that bump on her lip wasn’t herpes. If she doesn’t have herpes, she’s got somethin’! And I’m more than a little tired of hearing how she “holds it down” for her 3 boys. Being a mother doesn’t always make you a great mother, it just makes you a mother. And the twins? YUCK! Yuck, okay?! Heave! As in, throw up! As in ho! Heave-ho!

Rock of Love: I find it hilarious Ambre is really 37. I can’t wait for this ep. Who but a child of the 80’s would have such large, multi-colored hair?! Her less than truthfulness is especially funny since she acted like it was a personal affront that Daisy is over there, lying up a storm to Bret. Don’t you hate when the girls say his name? Breeeeeeeeeeeet. Ugh! How can any man take all that bitching and skankiness! For the record, I don’t like Daisy, either. In fact I don’t like any of those skanks but there’s a train, there’s a wreck and there’s me, watching.

Real Housewives of NY: R got me sucked into this one. I’ll have you know he got me sucked into the O.C. series orginally, too. That R. If he likes housewives so much, why doesn’t he make me one?! Ha. Haha. R and I both agree the NYC women are rich like the women in the O.C. can only hope to be but… they’re kinda boring. Except Ramona but I’d rather someone bore me than irritate the shit out of me. And I feel for Bethenny, I want to give her a hug. I know she can be neurotic and shit but show me a woman who hears her clock ticking who isn’t. Aw, Bethenny, aw.

Celebrity Fit Club Boot Camp: This ep hasn’t aired yet, either, but as often as they run the promos I feel as if I’ve seen it a 100 times already. Anyway, how funny is it when Dustin Diamond, in all his douche bag glory, says: I’m not going to sit here and be made out to be a douche bag … wait for it… again. Oh dear me, classic! I’m thinking, if you’re repeatedly made out to seem like a douche bag, than you’re probably really just a douche bag.

I really have to go now. It’s much too nice of a day to sit here, typing to you my trashy reality TV obsessions. They make me feel normal, okay, that’s all that is. *smirk*

Happy Sunday, chickadees!