I'm at the point of no return, just watch me burn.....

I don't understand
What destiny's planned
I'm starting to grasp
What is in my own hands
I don't claim to know
Where my holiness goes
I just know that I like
What is starting to show
Clean - Depeche Mode


First, Christmas was good. I'm very lucky to have a caring family who try to make the holidays fun.

Second, I'm stuck at work this week because I have no vacation time. But let's be serious - there is no work being done.

One of the things on my mind right now is dreading New Year's Eve. It is the most anti-climatic reason to celebrate in the history of celebrations.

I guess last year was the most fun NYE I've had. I was in a really good mood at the time because I was falling in love with MK and I went down to Nags Head for MK's best friend's wedding. I have a lot of great memories from down there - being with MK 24/7, meeting his friends and college mentor, dancing with his best friend's Dad, eating tons of seafood, walks on the beach, salt and sand on my face. It was a really great weekend and for the first time ever (yes, ever in my 24 years of existence) I had someone to kiss when the clock struck midnight.

And right now I can't get these memories out of my head. The resounding truth is that this NYE will be much different. I have no one to kiss, no MK to look up at and see the joys of the past year. It's enough to make a girl want to stay home on NYE and eat shrimp lo mein and cry.

But, what I now realize is that I don't need to look at anyone else to see all of the joy, and pain, of the last year. I've experienced these emotions the only way I know how - on my own, and trusting in my capacity to learn. I'm not getting on a pedestal and saying I don't need a man - of course I want a boyfriend who will display all the passion, caring, maturity and honesty I deserve. I think for now I am grateful to be alive and feeling (even though at times I wish I were numb to it all). I hope 2007 will be a grand year filled with love, laughter, and fun (and wine by the bucketloads).

2nd Annual Ultimate Pussycat Doll Wishlist

HO HO HO Bitches! I did it in 2005, and now it's back:

Ultimate Pussycat Doll Wishlist

Dreamgirls Soundtrack Double CD - $22

Urban Decay Midnight Cowboy Set - $28

Vogue: An Illustrated History of the World's Most Famous Fashion Magazine - $75

Maybach Exelero (black) - $385,000??

Proud Papa Brad Pitt - Yummers and priceless!!!

What I Learned in Raleigh

So I randomly went down to Raleigh, NC this past weekend to visit a very dear friend from high school. And once again when "The Boozies" get together it's apocalyptico-crazy. Even Miss USA would say we drink too much.

My lesson from this weekend: drinking cabernet sauvignon and chardonnay and Bailey's on the rocks and margaritas and Tic Tacs ( Red Bull and orange vodka) and beer (pong with Natty Light no less) and Bacardi Melon in a span of 2 hrs is NOT A GOOD IDEA.

Friday Boobies: Golden Globes edition

At first glance I though Beyonce looked very pretty at the premiere of "Dreamgirls" (sooo excited to see this but why the hell was Jennifer Hudson nominated in the Golden Globes Best Supporting Actress category while Beyonce was in the Best Actress category???!!?). Anywho, I also like Beyonce's make-up, although the dress is a little weird.

Then I noticed something a little off about Beyonce's Golden Globes. At first I thought it was an optical illusion of the right breast brought on by the application of too much body glitter by her mom, Tina Knowles:

As other people have pointed out, her right boob looks like it has collapsed! Oh dear....too much of the bootylicious shaking has caused her implant to slide towards the middle of her chest. Wait a minute, when did Beyonce get implants?? I'm confused. I really hope this isn't an actual health issue for her, because then I would feel bad. But, I think this is the first split-score: the left breast gets a 7 and the wonky right breast gets a 3.

Smooth(ie) Criminal

Yesterday I entered Das Gym and there was a muscle-y gentleman sitting at the smoothie bar close to the entrance. Apparently he had noticed me at Das Gym before, because he took the time out of his routine of checking out girls as they walked in to say to me, "Hi, I've seen you here before and I wanted to know if you have a second to converse?"

I tried to scoot out of this situation by saying I needed to quickly change into my gym clothes before the 8pm class. But he suckered me into a convo about Acuras. He seemed nice enough but as we were talking I noticed he checked out every girl who walked past us. He asked for my number but I told him I would rather give him my email, and then he acted offended! I explained to him that I've seen enough Oprah's and America's Most Wanted to not give my number to a random at the gym. And also I got a creepy vibe.....

Ahhh too sexy!!




Cut to today. He emails me not once, but twice. I don't respond to either. My Mom thinks I should just play nice and get a free meal (Mom knows what's up!). However, I really think dating a guy from the gym is bad for these reasons:


A. It's bad for "business" - if other more suitable guys at the gym see hanging with /dating/"conversing" with said gentleman, then I might get a reputation for being a gym groupie or someone who meets guys at random juice bars. I need to keep my options open!


B. Being the "gym couple" - I refuse to be that couple holding hands while working out on adjacent stationery bikes

C. Avoidance will make me fat - if I were to meet a gym regular and date him, and then break up, I would have to carefully time my gym attendance and probably avoid going on certain days all together. Then I would gain weight. Then I wouldn't be able to fit into my too-tight-expensive-ass Rock and Republic jeans I adore and I would be sad.


So ladies and gentlemen of the juice joint, I think I will pass on this suitor. Although I think I would love to meet someone new that makes me feel groovy, I guess now is not the time.

For the days when it's just too much

I realize I've been on a vicious cycle of bitterness, sadness, depression and my very own "pity -Soul Train dance line," but sometimes you just have to say Fuck It.

This past weekend was too much drama for me.

Friday night I was dead tired and decided to stay in. So Saturday morning I get up, all re-energized and crap ready to drive to the gym. I get in the Silver Bullet, aka the Civi, and the damn thing doesn't start. But at least I was in my driveway. I think it's my battery. So I call roadside Ass-ist and when the tow truck driver comes he acts annoyed that he has to give me a jump. Meanwhile I'm on the phone with Dear Old Sometimes Judgemental Dad and I snap at him because of the Spanish Inquisition he is trying to start with me over the phone. Tow truck driver jumps the battery and tells me to let it run for awhile and that it should be OK and I wouldn't need for it to get towed. Fine, I'm out of the woods right? No. I let the car run for 30 min and while I'm doing this my Dad calls back to inform me my great Uncle Johnny (who I barely knew) died that night. He asks if I'm planning to go to the funeral in Florida and I honestly say, "Well I just found out about this from you so I don't know what I'll be doing." He of course took this as being snappish.

So my car has been running forever and now I'm bummed about Uncle Johnny. I was a little unsure about what to do next, so I of course call Malibu Ken. OK OK it was an act of desperation and I clearly gave in by "petting the puppy" (see Cail's comment from 1 post ago). MK thinks I should be fine but if the car doesn't start after I turn it off it might be the alternator or I need a new battery. He offers to come over and follow me as I drop my car off in the parking lot of the dealership and also try to buy a battery. The idea sounded nice..... but you know what? He's not my boyfriend anymore and I need to stop depending on him for things. So I politely declined his offer and said goodbye. I turn the car off about 5 min later. I immediately try to re-start it and whoopsie-daisies-fuck me in the ass-donkey shit it won't start. I call the love of my life from college who informs me that I'm being too dramatic and negative about the day and I need to go for a run. I immediately hang up on him in mid-conversation because I don't feel like hearing his "Dude-Mantra" of "just go on a run" or "drink a few beers." Sometimes it's just more complicated than that. Anyway, I was supposed to go to 2 parties that night but I was so drained I decided to order pizza and curl up into bed with Weeds Season 1 Disc 2 courtesy of Netflix.

Cut to Sunday morning. I'm supposed to meet Mom for lunch in Hoodbridge. Get in the car and lo-and-fucking-behold it won't start. My roommate gives me a jump and my car is running and I decided to put my life in danger for a free meal, "Borat", and holiday shopping at Potomac Mills. I drove down 95 on what I later found out was less than 10 volts of battery power and got to my Mom's house. Again, as soon as I turned off the car it wouldn't re-start. My Mom calls her friend who says he will go to the auto parts store, buy a battery, and install it while we do our girlie stuff. I am forever indebted to this family friend of ours.

So before we head to the mall, my Mom informed me that my Dad called her and he was "piping-hot" at my general attitude towards him the last couple of weeks. I also gave him his bday present a few days late. He damn well knows I am going through a break-up, but just like a Dude he says, "Get over it." So now my Dad is peeved at me, my battery is dead, and so is my Uncle Johnny. All there was left to do was shop. And say Fuck It very loudy.

My Mom decided to show her concern for me and my general disposition by buying my X-mas gifts in front of me. No surprises for me on X-mas, but I got a nice Ralph Lauren Polo sweater, a white gold and diamond bracelet, various Sweet Pea products (my preferred B&B Works scent), one black and one hot pink pashmina. For the record I'm defintely NOT complaining about that!

And at the end of yesterday my car got fixed and is now running. I would have been supremely sad if it had puttered out. I've had it for almost 6 years and haven't even gotten the chance to have sex in it.

But most of all I am sad that my Dad thinks I'm a brat and that I don't care about him, which is clearly not the case. One thing I have never been good with his family drama. It just cuts to the core you know?? So today I hope to get a grip on some things. Call Dad to apologize (for what I don't know but I guess I just have to swallow my pride and do it). Definitely write the family friend a thank you email. And yes, perhaps work on a plan for "utilizing" the Civi's backseat.