i need a month of weekends

It's Wednesday. I woke up this morning thinking it was Friday, and I was beyond heartbroken when reality set in. I have 16 days left until we leave for Mexico. I am so ready for this vacation. I'm almost afraid to return from it and have to get back into daily living.

I've been having some fantastic weekends as of late. Lets start with the last weekend in April shall we?

Kh and I took a day trip to a local Zoo. Ok, not so much a day trip as it's literally 10 minutes from our house. It was a pretty sad excuse for a zoo, and I'm still convinced most of the animals were trying to kill themselves.

The flamingo enclosure smelled like fishy poop death, which was heightened by the intense body odor emitting from a few of our fellow onlookers. We got to see a tiny bat almost pee on his own face while hanging upside down, that was pretty funny. 

Kh was pretty entertained with the llamas, and the monkeys. I found this pretty awesome wood carving.

I asked Kh to take a picture of me. Kh has this habit of taking a million pictures of me, in every single state of talking. Goofing off, mouthing back at her, and doing my impression of what I usually end up looking like. 

 I think the bottom left shows off my personality quite well. 

After the Zoo we went up to Salem to grab some lunch. We sat outside and soaked up some more sunshine. And drank some beer. Obviously.

This past weekend we wandered around Somerville Open Studios. My friend Janine over at Salvage Love was participating. She has some amazing reclaimed wooden art, refurnished furniture and jewelry. She also had beer and some wine, so that was an added bonus. 

Later in the night we went to our favorite restaurant with some friends. We gorged ourselves on yummy food, and our waitress/bartender/owner kept bringing us sample drinks. 

Since I'm on the topic of weekends. This coming weekend we're going to be celebrating our two friends graduation from law school. Fancy cocktails and good food. I'll probably even con Kh into going shopping for Mexico attire. 

xo

witches look better with cleavage and tales of an animal hoarder

I walk into her first floor one-bedroom apartment. It’s clean and well organized. The artwork on the wall is framed and arranged in a random pattern that denotes a sense of not being random at all. I can tell she probably had spent hours putting those hangings up. Scrutinizing over where her framed “imagine” typography print should go.

I decide she’s a graphic designer, all within the first few seconds of stepping inside the threshold. She apologizes for the place being messy. I make a mental note to never let her see my apartment. Not that she would, that’s silly.

I get the tour and she shows me where all the pertinent supplies will be for next week. I get a copy of her keys and give her my business card with all the ways to contact me.

She smiles exuberantly and exclaims how glad she is I’m not a psycho.

I smile and say “Me too.”

That was the start of my Monday. But I guess I should start with the end of my weekend.

I wish I could say I did something painfully exciting, when in fact I spent from Thursday until Sunday horribly stressed out. I was cooped up in my apartment with a few overnight clients. By a few, I mean 5 dogs, not including my 2 dogs. If you were assuming I felt like a crazy lesbian animal hoarder that should be put on network television, you’d be assuming correctly.

Although my apartment is clean, and the dogs were all under 9lbs. None of them managed to chew a hole in my couch and live inside the stuffing, so that says something, right?

Sunday after 2 of the dogs went home, Kh and I felt liberated enough to go to the movies with a couple of friends. We got picked up and headed off to see The Great and Powerful Oz in iMax. I’ve only ever seen one other movie in iMax, and that was SeaRex. (Which I totally took Kh to see on one of our first dates, I’m awesome right?)

I sat there, with my head slightly tilted to one side, biting the inside of my lip, wondering if the movie I was watching was a complete load of shit, or if it was just the sheer in your face magnitude the 3D element gave to it. I was quite sure I’d have an image  of James Franco’s gigantic face seared to the inside of my eyelids if I closed them for to long.

I stopped wondering when I looked over at Kh, who had a look of “I smell horse shit and it won’t go away”.  Yay, confirmation from my girl friend that the movie was garbage.

Barely even under the surface of the movie is a severe undertone of sexism, and not a single empowered female was shown. Every woman was depicted as a sniveling emotional mess whose world and core values get completely destroyed when a man doesn’t return her affections. The only woman who doesn’t seem to grovel at the mans feet happens to be a woman who puts her own potential and power aside to help coddle and bring a man to his own self worth. When all along she could probably do some serious damage on her own, not wait for a man to save her.

Or to save the damn munchkins. At least the witches had sex appeal, eh?

After the movie I had 2 ½ beers and we all commiserated on how terrible it was to stare at James Franco’s face that large for so long. 

And now I need to sleep for 3 days straight. 

xo

 

your maximum point of power in your life is now

Last weekend, while a bit relaxing, was void of Kh and of anything real exciting. I tried to make up for it this weekend.

Friday night Kh, my good friend, his girl friend and myself went to a local bar/restaurant that we’ve frequented often by now. It’s within stumbling distance from our house, which makes it the perfect spot to go to when we want to get.. how do I say it.. trashed. 

Kh and I got there a bit early, so we could get a table and have a drink before they arrived. Friday was my stressful run in with the crazy, so we were both on edge and full of anxiety. We got dinner, drinks, and ended up staying there for quite a while. When it was time to leave, we figured why not go to the bar next door! So naturally, we did.

Fast forward to the bartender calling last call, and flicking the lights on and off. I look at my phone to see what time it was, 2am. There's something incredibly jarring about the lights going on in a bar when you're drunk, and completely unaware of what time it is.

I can’t tell you the last time I stayed out until last call, or even closed down a bar. I’m more of a have a few drinks out then finish off by getting tanked at home kind of girl. I keep it classy and cheap.

 (hungover me)

It was really great spending time with both of them, but the next day I was in rough. Rough. Shape. I had some work to do, and other then that I spent the entire day sleeping, drinking coconut water, boinking and staring at my ever-growing wreck of an apartment. Oyyy.

The best part about being hungover is the next day when you open up your eyes and feel like “Holy shit I could conquer the world! And not throw up all over!”. You expect to still feel like you’re dying and it’ll never go away, when bam.

I opened up my eyes, rolled out of bed, grabbed a glass of water then went back to bed Sunday morning. I figured it was somewhere around 8:30, the usual time we start to wake up. I get into the bedroom and Kh sits straight up in bed, eyes wide and is all “Do you KNOW what time it is?!” I stare blankly at her until she says “10:45.”

That put a fire under my ass and I had to rush around to get ready and out the door. I saw a kittie client, and then we went Tv shopping. Something Kh has been dying to do forever now.

 We got Starbucks first. Their coffee makes me feel like I’m on crack.

Blah blah blah, Best Buy blah blah Technology. All of which doesn’t compute with me very well. I stood around while Kh chatted it up with the tv man. Who had some wicked sick tatties on his forearms. You know, like a banner over what looked like a gravestone all in gray wash with someone’s name in it.  

While ignoring everything I look up and see the face of this guy I used to sleep with on 15 different tv monitors surrounding me. I can’t escape it! Ah! I texted my best friend and it looked something like this.

 Kh installed the tv when we got home, with very little help from me. Do you see the difference? Yeah, I don't either. HA! I know we went from 40" to 46" and now everything I watch looks like it's going to pop out of the screen at me. Size matters.

Later on Sunday night I talked Kh into going to the craft store. I actually spent less than I’ve ever spent there before. I was in absolute shock when the girl at the register told me the total. Under $70, and I still walked away with a bag full of random crap.

We did a few more errands and got sushi take out.

Once I stuffed my face we started to finish watching Sinister. We had tried to watch it Saturday night, but Kh got incredibly quiet and asked me if I wanted to keep watching it. Which is totally a signal for “holy fuck this is freaking my shit out can I turn it off?!”

I wasn’t really that impressed by it. It was quite predictable, all the way down to how the ending was going to play out. A few scenes were a bit freaky, but nothing I hadn’t seen before. I’m usually more terrified than I was when there are kids involved in any paranormal psycho thrill kill kind of movies. 

And now it’s Monday. It’s sunny, and I’ve finished my second cup of coffee, bring it on.

xo 

it's not a question or an answer, but it will change your mind

This weekend was the first long stint of being alone I’ve had in quite some time. Was it relaxing? Not in the least.

I spent most of Saturday hanging out with two of my favorite Chihuahua clients. We watched Lifetime movies and ate goldfish crackers. Well, I ate the crackers, I don’t share.

I don’t have cable at my house, and have never really wanted it. Especially after my old roommate would get high as a kite and watch marathons for hours but never pay her half of the cable bill. Anywayyyys. I watched some terrible movie about a woman whose boyfriend beat her up and gave her amnesia and then lied to her about the two being engaged so he could get her fortune. I know, you’re already hooked right?

Afterwards a local photographer friend came over to try out some new (expired) Polaroid film he had purchased and to get some old Polaroid cameras I was giving to him. We took a few digital shots as back up as well.

I'd show you some of the film shots but I showed more skin than I'm about to show on this blog. At least for now. Nothing wrong with a little peek-a-cheek. 

Oh - and he gave me a book he put a few of my photos in. I love helping out local artists. It makes the 3rd book I've been in within the past year. 

I haven’t been sleeping very well since Kh went out of town. I had a couple of glasses of wine, took the dogs out for potty time before bed, and was so looking forward to passing the hell out Saturday night. Do you think it went down that way? Of courseeee not. 

I go to put on my pajamas and finally go to bed when what do I see? A big old pee spot right in the middle of Kh’s pillow. Now I know I didn’t crawl up on that bed, drop my pants and piss on it. I know Kh didn’t pee on it before she left. For one, it was real fresh, and for two she’s just not that kind of girl. Aweeesomeee. At least it didn't get on the bed. I would have been real mad.

Sunday I was just so damn exhausted I tried to do as little as possible. I had a few clients I had to see, and couldn’t drag myself away from pixel people. I’m obsessed. I get off the internet to go to bed, and then play on the internet on my phone in bed. For a couple of hours. 

Tonight I did what I absolutely hate more than anything, household chores. It was mostly to stop myself from falling asleep on the couch at 6:30pm. When I went into the bedroom to fold some laundry, I found a present from one of my dogs. A nice pile of puke. Right on top of my clean towels. Have I said aweeesomeee yet in this post? Cause that's what it was. 

Next weekend you’ll hear all about how drunk I got. That’s for damn sure.

xo

a weekend, some fake hair, and a lot of wine

I wish I had one of those weekends full of crazy adventures and tomfoolery. But, I didn’t.

Let’s start my recap with Valentines Day, since I’m such a grump-puss about the whole holiday.

I had an excruciatingly long day at work, but Kh was able to surprise me with flowers, a box of chocolates (for myself, kh and our friend to share), and other little trinkets that were just perfect. For me at least.

She got me a bat shit crazy card (the inside was the cutest thing ever), a porcupine quill necklace, and a nylon ring that is coated in spf so when I start tanning (not on purpose mind you, I don't do that shit) I’ll have tan lines that shape. Cute.

That night Kh, our friend, and myself went out to eat at what’s becoming our favorite walk-to-so-we-can-get-drunk place. 3 glasses of wine, and enough food to make me pop made the walk home pretty difficult.

Friday was another exceptionally long day for me. I don’t know what it was but last week really kicked my ass and then some. I got home and took the longest shower ever. Right in the middle of our “what do you want for dinner?” discussion (that can usually last an hour if not more) I got a text from a friend who was getting dinner at a Italian place that’s right down the street from my house. We gave in and went.

The place itself is just what you think of if I were to say “That local family owned Italian restaurant with a lot of shit on the walls.”

I had a salad and mozzarella sticks. And by the time I got home I was writing out my will and quite sure I was dying. My toilet became my best friend, and I’ll just leave that up to your imagination to fill in the blanks. I should have known better when I saw the fruit flies swarming around our table.

Saturday I was able to pump enough life into my veins to dye my hair and the extensions. I might have made a mess. To dye the extensions I just placed them on a piece of aluminum foil and painted the color on. Making sure to work it in realll gooood. 

 Who doesn't love a behind the scenes look at someone making a complete mess of themselves while dying their hair? 

Sunday? It mother-truckin snowed again. I know it’s New England, but can’t a girl get a break? I’m ready to retire these winter boots already.

The only thing really productive that happened on Sunday was getting my hair cut and my extensions put in. Hair surgery!

Left - first glass of wine. Right - my third. 

In total it took close to 3 hours. We ended around 11:30pm, and my poor friend had to be up by 3am to catch a 5:30 flight. Even if he was half asleep, my hair came out just how I wanted it. He filled in the front with about 20 pieces per side to start making the shape of a bob.

I know it's not the craziest of differences. It's about 2 1/2inches longer on each side of my face. Which is just what I needed to not drive myself crazy while growing out this mop of mine.

I'm sure I'll post more photos in the following week. It's the first time in a long ass time I like how my hair looks. So that says something.

 

 
xo

we got this or rather I survived the storm with the lame name

Yesterday was the first day in 2 days that I put on real clothes and actually left my house. I was pretty convinced Kh was going to have to cut me out of my pajamas, that’s how serious it was.

Like most of New England, it’s a winter wonderland outside my front door. Snow drifts 7feet tall, snow tunnels that were once wide sidewalks, and giant snow banks shaped oddly like cars. The town I live in has the worst snow removal process ever and any street that isn’t a main road still has at least 4 inches of snow packed down with slush on top of it so you can barely drive on it,

Or rather, I can barely drive on it. My POS Toyota still doesn’t have snow tires on it. Woop woop! A steady incline with a bit of slush on it? Oh, no problem, excuse me while I spin out and ultimately go backwards. Vroom vroom bitches.  

 [ that's us mid-storm. we took a walk like a bunch of jackasses ]

We got stir crazy and finally left the house yesterday in a zipcar (a car you can rent hourly). I’d say it was eventful, but it wasn’t. We had to dig out the car, even after the service rep at zipcar said the lot and car would be clean. A big screw you to the lyingface zipcar lady. You suck.

 While digging out the car, a man shoveling the sidewalk casually would peer our way every so often. After about 30 minutes of shoveling, and just as we’re getting the car out, he comes over and offers to help. Hey, buddy, take your sweat pants back over there, we got this shit. 

What I did to stay sane during the snowstorm with the lamest name ever:  

:: I found people that went to my high school on instagram and mildly obsessed about how much I can’t/couldn’t stand them.

:: I played with the imadeface app and made our cute little faces. Even if I always have bitch face. 

:: I watched endless episodes of The X-Files

:: I cooked. Chocolate chip pancakes, (my first ever) homemade vegetarian chili and cornbread, and homemade pizza.

:: I made dream catchers, rings, hair clips, and things out of sculpey.

:: I made Kh paint my nails. And toe nails. Purple and green.

:: Spied on my neighbors shoveling out their cars in sweat pants, ugg boots and a moto jacket.

What I did not do:

:: Clean my apartment.
:: The dishes.

:: Organize my closet and put away my clothes.

:: The laundry.

:: Successfully get drunk.

:: Sleep in.

:: Wear pants that didn’t have an elastic waistband.

 Pretty damn eventful, right? Ok, not in the least bit. But I'd give anything to go back to Saturday and not have it be Monday. booo-hoo. 

xo