A Horrible Warning

I Will Still Totally Complain About Sleep Deprivation Tomorrow

I am up ridiculously late, and have not been posting, because I'm fascinated by addicted to websites such as this:

http://www.rottenneighbor.com/

I heard about this on a local news story. How trashy, and awesome, can you get?

What are your neighbors saying about you?

When Cutesy Maybe, Um, Isn't

After reading this post over at Sweetney, I just had to share my story with you guys.

In case you don't feel like linking on over there, or for some freaking context anyway, her post was on whether it is appropriate to teach children the proper terminology for their, um, junk.

I think the first time I ever really knew I had a vagina was when they separated the boys and the girls for the "it is perfectly normal for girls to bleed from the most disturbing of places once a month" talk in 5th grade. Oh, that talk could also be titled "deodorant and what it can do for your social life" or "people might not think you're gross if you brush your hair once in awhile." Suburban LA elementary schools are nothing if not multi-taskers.

Prior to that time, my mother had taught my sister and me (there were only two of us at that moment because our youngest sister didn't make her grand entrance until I was almost 13 and defintely knew it was a vagina and was on to the quest for the meaning of masturbation) that it was a po po.

Let me repeat that: we called it a po po.

Surprisingly, we weren't the only ones, as the very last entry in Urban Dictionary supports the association with the lady bits. Still, I can't help but dissolve into giggles every time I hear someone refer to the PO-lice as the po po. The giggle factor goes up exponentially if my sister is in the room.

I also laugh every time her best friend refers to it as a twat. Because twat is a funny sounding word. Say it a few times. Twat, twat, twat. Kinda fun to type, too.

Yeah, anatomically correct is overrated.

Not the Treasure I Sought, But Treasure None-the-Less

I was going through the drawers of my antique vanity tonight, and just looky what I found. I can't say for sure when I wore any of this. Well, actually, I think I may have worn the Jay Jacobs flower earrings on the 5th of NEVER. Even in high school I had better taste.

OK, maybe not. Here are my thoughts, clockwise from left:

1. Turquoise orbs are sexxxxy...bet I wore those with an Izod polo with the collar turned up

2. Well hello sailor, of course I would love a ride on your yacht...I used to have Top Siders, too, although I think that may have been much earlier. I may have paired those with something royal blue. I was so into royal blue, and it is so nautical. Regardless, I am truly amazed that my earring holes are still normal sized...those things are solid.

3. I was channeling someone's Aunt Mabel. Wonder if I should track her down and return this, uh, piece?

4. Ooh, those are kind of cute. Wonder if I have anything that they would go with? I could tell everyone that they are vintage...

(down to the next group)

5. We already know what I think of those

6. So.Blanche.Deveraux.

And take a closer look at that last item:

   

7. I have to admit that I still like that color scheme. Get down with your bad self, Mickey. That said, 16 years ago? Seriously? How the fuck did that happen?!?

Career Opportunities

The other day, I had lunch with an old friend and colleague of mine who had some news for me. She is newly divorced, and she and her new boyfriend decided that it was time to knock her up. Based on this, we had the following exchange:

Her: "We decided to do it right away since I'm already 36. My eggs aren't getting any fresher!"

Me: "I hear that. Anyway, you already have 3 kids...what's one more?!?"

Her: Laughter (I fully expected crickets). "Seriously! You know how to make a girl feel better."

Me: "You don't have to defend this decision to anyone, especially not me. Oh, and rationalizations are my specialty. You need one? I'm your girl! I should be making some serious coin for it!"

Her: "You could totally do that for a living."

I really could. Too bad law school takes so long!

On Being Brilliant

HW - "I have an ego about my intelligence. I think I'm smarter than most people."

I braced myself. This was a pretty big confession for me.

EB (deadpan, and not missing a beat) - "I think you are as dumb as a box of rocks."

HW (can't come up with a decent comeback - smacks EB lightly) - After pause: "I am the smartest person in most rooms."

EB - "Until you met me. Then you bowed down."

HW (deciding not to play his stupid game...after all, smartest person in the room (OK, at that moment in his truck...what.ever.) has no need for stupid boy games) - "Bow down? Um, no. I did think you might be up to the challenge. In some areas. Maybe."

EB - Chuckles

HW - Changes subject

HW, later in bed - "You know you think I'm brilliant."

EB - "Mm hmm, whatever you say."

HW - "Say it! Say I'm brilliant!"

EB (I can hear the eyeroll in the dark) - "Fine. I think you are dumber than a box of rocks." Resumes making out with me.

OK, so I didn't prove my brilliance in this instance (there is copious empirical evidence to support my assertion anyway, including the preceding use of big, impressive words, that negates the necessity for me to argue the point...admit it, you are impressed with my arrogance if not my mental prowess). I didn't even get anywhere in the argument. But I did get some engineer lovin'.

And EB did prove who has the big balls.

Just One More Thing

Before I go to bed (over an hour late), I just have to ask you guys:

Are you as creeped out as I am that Martha Stewart is using the song Pour Some Sugar on Me in her ads? With a slogan that is something like Recipes that Rock?

I just threw up in my mouth a little.

Introducing the Internets to my Special Brand of Crazy

For those of you who watch Scrubs, this should make sense. The rest of you? Why the hell are you not watching Scrubs? Are you high? Scrubs rocks! It is brilliant and witty and downright hysterical. Comedy Central, 7 p.m. weeknights, two episodes in a row (at least here in Sac...if that is not correct for you, Mr. Yahoo has a nice TV section that should be able to help you figure it out). Seriously.

Um, where was I before my Scrubs tangent? Watch it!! Bah, am easily distracted by television apparently (I know, duh). Will focus now, and consider not writing in choppy fragments.

On that show, our leading doctor, JD, narrates most episodes (every once in awhile another character gets a chance, but we mostly get us some Zach Braff), and really, his whole life. I'm not sure if I've ever fully admitted this (and what are the Internets for but intensely personal and humiliating confessions?), but I have a tendency to do the same thing. More often than not, I narrate more than just the present, but the potential future. By the way, this is mostly an internal monologue, not me wandering around describing every situation aloud, I swear. Mostly.

Except when I'm in the car alone. I may tell people I'm singing, but maybe I'm not. And maybe I'm only pretending I'm on my cell phone. Hmm.

Or not. You decide how colorful you think I truly am.

I see having various conversations with my nieces when they are adults (in these conversations, they are telling me that I was always the fun aunt and they hang on my every story and bits of advice...oh, and they always tell me that I still look younger than their mother). I see varying scenarios with my own children (in one version I have boys, in the other girls...but always 2 children...one is not enough, and I'll be too old to have more than 2 by the time I really get to...if anyone lets me, after this post). That's all standard stuff...football practices, birthday parties, springing them from juvie.

Of course, I also see my college graduation (that is called visualization people...it might be the only way I can get through it), my first marathon, my first home.

OK, now I know this sounds much more like run of the mill day-dreaming. To bring it back to the point -  you know, to The Crazy - I will also tell you that in my head, I am referring to myself and everyone else in the third person. As if I'm writing the novel of my life. 

Yes, my internal monologue is just as stream of consciousness as this post. And random. And batshit crazy.

I once tried (for about 45 minutes) to carry one of those micro casette recorders around so that I would remember all of the pearls I come up with throughout the day. But between forgetting to turn the sucker on and listening later and exclaiming, "what the fuck am I talking about? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD," I thought better of it (and realized everyone else thinks the same thing, every time I talk).

I think the point to all of this is obvious: JD needs a blog.