Stressed
I am currently so stressed out and backwards right now that I don't know whether to scratch my watch or wind my butt.

Doing too many things at once is not good for the stomach, well at least not for the ulcers. Perhaps it does act as a natural deterrent for food items, though.

In any case, working sucks. I really wish that I could find a sugar daddy to take all my worries away. I swear that I would be a perfect trophy wife if I had the time to go to the gym. I PROMISE!!! Anyone? Anyone? No takers? Dammit or damn it. Which is correct? I don't really know. I guess I will just clear that up and go with fuck it. That's correct, I'm sure of it.

Did I ever tell you
about the time I incited a bus riot? I didn't?

Well, I guess now is as good a time as any.

About 3 or 4 years ago, I was visiting my lovely friend M in her hometown of Yonkers, NY. I boarded the Amtrak train very early in the morning to begin my journey. I was sure that I was in for a wonderful weekend of debauchery. Little did I know how right I was.

Saturday came and it was determined that we would be going up to an Octoberfest field party being held by one of the local colleges. We took buses to the site from the school to make sure there was no drinking and driving. Good plan, right? Not exactly.

The party was fun. Tons of beer. Decided lack of bathroom facilities, everything you expect at a college gathering. It was late in the day and most of us in our little group--which was about 4 or 5 of us were pretty drunk. We made it onto one of the last buses, of which the guy to girl ratio was about 45 to 6, respectively. Did I mention that everyone was drunk? Good.

So, we are off, heading back to campus and everyone is quite gregarious. That is when this one particular chant seems to waft above the rest of the bus chatter.

"Show us your tits."
"Show us your tits."
"Show us your tits."
"Show us your tits."

Me (In a decidedly quiet voice)--"Who are they talking to?"
My friends: "I don't know."
Me (In a decidely NOT quiet voice)--"Who the fuck are y'all talking to?"

Now, I would like to point out that while I was drunk, I really only said something b/c I couldn't believe what was being chanted and was worried that they were harassing someone in particular and felt that was completely uncalled for.

Uh oh...and now they were, ME. The chants continue. I get smart and think of a clever retort that I will very soon regret.
"Fine, you are so down with this, why don't you show us your dick?" I said to the leader of the drunkie mcdrunkersteins.

I immediately realized this was the worst possible thing to say b/c guys rarely have a problem producing such a sight and this time was no exception. So, they definitely expected some reciprocation, which at the time, I was totally not down with.

Have I mentioned yet what my friends were doing? All of whom, minus M, I had JUST met? Well, they were not too pleased, but being the loyal sort, were ready to back my ass (or in this case tits) up. The unfortunate part? We made up 4 of the girls on the bus and only 1 of the guys. Gulp.

Things at this point had sort of escalated to a fever pitch when we noticed the bus has stopped in a parking lot. A NY STATE POLICE parking lot. Uh oh. You can almost hear the Dragnet music as the troopers got on the bus to see what the problem was. While a couple of people tried to explain, I am sure he rightly deduced that the main issue was that we were all drunk. All 6 girls were asked to get off the bus. (on a side note, this also allowed for us to get a much needed bathroom break, which was really good accident prevention, for me anyway.)

When the girls were allowed to board the bus again, we had to sit in the front, away from the boys and were told that if there were any more issues that we would all be arrested (not just the girls, but everyone.) That part was not fun. Nor was the last 30 minutes of that bus ride which seemed to last forever due to the fact that not a single person I knew was really talking to me.

Hmmm...I wonder why that was? Perhaps because I am a total ass? Possibly. In any case, the incident has long since been forgiven (sorry everyone) but not forgotten. But, how many other people can say that they incited a bus riot in NY? Ok, fine, well at least incited such an event for that retarded of a reason, then.

Free Katie
Thank God that someone is stepping in to help save our Joey Potter

Best of luck in your endeavor!

Hoo Boy...
I can't believe I am about to say this, but Jack Osborne actually looks good.

Congrats to him. And now I have to go and shoot myself in the face. Yikes!

Go Nationals
So, those of you in the Washington area are aware that our new little baseball team is kicking some ass in the standings and that is great. I have been fortunate enough to attend a couple of games and they have been awesome. What was more than awesome, though was the metro ride home last evening from the game.

So, we were lucky enough to beat the largest throngs of people and made it into the station and pretty much got right on a train. 'Wow, we thought, that was easy.' Little did we know that on our train was one of the most oddly animated and unanimated people I have ever come in contact with.

What do I mean by this? Well, let's start with when we got on the metro, he was sprawled out on the priority seating as if it was his own couch. My friend and I continued to talk about the game and other things until a couple of stops had passed and this guy had moved seats and was now putting his feet up all over the place.

Then his attention turned to us. Ruh roh.

H: Is this your first trip to Washington?
M: No, we're from the area.
H: Where?
My Friend: Dupont Circle (me thinking, you couldn't have picked something more believable?)
M: Yes, our parents are diplomats. (fine, not really)
H: So I guess that means I should stop talking to you.
Us: Silence...(and not really understanding why he thought that, I would say it was more of our demeanor that would have given him the hint)

About two minutes pass and he moves to the seat directly across from us.

H: So, do you actually even CARE about anything?
Us: What?
H: Hi, I'm 'Funky' but my friends call me 'Funk' and you are?
M: Emily (yes, that is totally not my name. Shut. Up.)
H: I will tell you something about myself. I used to work for the Grateful Dead and Bob Dylan.
Us Thinking: Really, we never would have guessed with the permanently stoned eyes you have and the fabulously long curly locks you are sporting.
M: What do you do now?
H: I choose to be unemployed to hang out with my old mother and knocked-up sister. You know, family is important.
Us: Hmmmm...
H: ruhumpfhhhhhhhh

See, it was at this point that he actually fell off his bench and rolled onto the floor. And then he didn't get up right away. Not sure if it was because he couldn't process what happened or perhaps he just liked the view from down there. Who knows. I know that I found it quite entertaining.

H: Homo sapien
M: Yes, aren't we all (a little confused by this segue)
H: Not you all, you're homosexuals.
Us: Huh? Nope, don't think so.
M: I don't think you understand the meaning of Homo sapien.

Now I think this was this poor man's way of determining whether or not my friend and I were together, which we are not. Once this was decided, he moved in for the kill. After poking me in my arm 5 times, I told him that I would not go out on a date with him.

H: Why?
M: I have a boyfriend named Thor.
H: What does he do?
M: Drives a tow truck. (now mind you I am describing my last ex, so it isn't EXACTLY a lie)
H: Huh...what kind of truck is it?
M: A TOW truck. I don't know what brand. One that can hold cars and trucks, I suppose.

Finally, our stop arrived and we were able to get off the train before our new friend Funk tried to sit in our laps and lick our faces.

So, if any of you ladies are looking for a fabulous man named Funk, I think I know where to find him. Blue Line train to Franconia-Springfield is all you need.

We All Know THIS GUY...
Thanks to my friend Matt, I ran across this link.

Highly entertaining!

I am really getting too old for this...
Just because it was a holiday weekend, doesn't mean there is a reason reason to be out until 3am on a 'school' night. Seriously, what was I thinking? Did I stay out that late on Sunday, when I could sleep in as late as I wanted? Of course not. I waited until Monday night. In retrospect, it was both a blessing and a curse.

This whole notion began when I was discussing that I wanted to go out and meet boys with my roommate (Miss C). With her newly minted single status, she agreed that we needed to go out somewhere we could meet some fine gentleman callers. Well, the resulting men weren't necessarily gentleman, but they were pretty fine.

We headed out to a small area of town that we don't normally frequent to a place known for its karaoke--now mind you I said we would go to new places, not necessarily avoid our favorite passtime (after drinking of course.)

We at first drew some attention due to our vehement game of rock, paper, scissors and soon enough we had some hot boys rallying around us and marveling at Miss C's ability to wholeheartedly kick my ass 3 out of 4 times (75% for those playing at home.) Of course, being manly men, they wanted to get in on the action, only to meet the same fate as myself.

At the end of the evening, after the drinks and karaoke ended, slow dancing commenced and the bright 'get the hell out' lights were eventually turned on, it was at this point that my new boyfriend thought it would be appropriate to jam his tongue down my throat. In the middle of the dance floor with florescent lights for all to see. Oddly enough, he didn't seem to understand why I didn't want to make out at precisely that moment. Ummm...really? Yuck...and also--ixnay on the izardlay onguetay.

Ahem, so, we all walk out to the street to depart and he somehow finagles a ride back to his hotel. We take him down the street about 7 blocks, passing his forlorn friends who were walking along and getting accosted by a homeless man. We pull into the turnabout driveway when awkward, he hasn't asked for my number or anything routine ensues. It was so nice when my roommate blatantly blurted out 'you are going to call her, right? You did get her number? You didn't? Do you have a pen?' This poor man wanted nothing to do with a pen or my phone number, but to his credit at least tried to make up a story as to why he had been thrown off kilter at this point. After he again tried to jam his tongue down my throat--with my roommate in the car he exited our vehicle, sans any phone number.

Now, last night this might have bothered me, but this morning, not so much. I guess I was more worried about making it to work on time after acting like such a dumbass and staying out so late last night. So be careful what you wish for when trolling for men, they may be hot, but that is about it. However, as Miss C said, 'at least he was smart enough to get a ride to his hotel.' Well said Miss C, well said.

Man...blogging is HARD.
Well, Work has been interrupting my plans to blog yet again. Doesn't Work know that I have to entertain the four people that read this site on a regular basis? Seriously Work, you have to stop being so stressful and busy. I mean, it is Summer. Isn't it time for a break? Nice long lunches? Early patio happy hours? What's that you say? No? Great.

I guess that is just the icing on the cake for this particular week which began with the discovery of the formerly mentioned living will. Other fun things that happened this week...my best friend from college's grandfather passed away and I found out someone close to me has a very serious health issue. Although there was good news as well. One of my other good friends from college welcomed her first son into the world, so that is awesome.

Perhaps I should go out drinking to celebrate. I am sure she would approve considering she taught me everything I know about boozing it up. Long weekend here I come!

A Letter From Mom!!!
Peering into my mailbox last night I notice a letter from my mother. At first, I assume it is something good, it's from my mom and it's a real letter and it's heavy! I tear into it in the elevator, I just can't wait to see what it is. I carefully unfold the papers, only to realize that my mother has sent me her LIVING WILL. No forewarning, nothing. Just these two pieces of paper designating my sister as her surrogate with me as the alternate.

Well, this isn't what I was expecting, although there is a little note explaining that even though my sister has been designated, my mom expects all decisions to be made jointly and that I should file this with my important papers (which include a plastic sheet which houses my birth certificate and passport stuffed in my dresser.)

I immediately call my sister to complain about being ambushed by something of this nature.

Me: Know what you don't want to get in the mail?
Sister: What are you talking about?
Me: Ummm...our mother's living will!
Sister: Oh, yeah, I knew about that.
Me: Why didn't anyone mention it to me?
Sister: She didn't? Oh well.
Me: By the way, since you are older, you have to make all the decisions.
Sister: Wait, what? That isn't fair...
Me: Who said life was fair? You were born first and went to Europe.
Sister: Well, you got to go skiing three times.
Me: Fine...whatever. Why are we talking about this again?
Sister: Because our mom is nuts and didn't tell you about her living will.
Me: Damn Terri Schiavo.

Couldn't come up with anything better...
All right, I went out last night and drank too much and slept too little. Do I really think the type of day I have had so far is because of that? Not hardly. Fine...maybe a little bit. Shut. It.

See, we had a bit of a debaucherous night that included numerous $2.35 beers and karaoke as well as a midnight viewing of Nightmare on Elm Street 2, which I have to say wasn't that good.

It is currently 4:32pm and there have been a variety of activities that occurred today.

So, let's begin...I wake up this morning to the sound of the telephone in my kitchen (the telephone, not me, I was in my bed) it was my roommate's ex husband calling to see where she was. So, I check in her room. Sure enough, sleeping soundly. 'Shall I tell him you have already left?' 'Please..'

Got to work at 9:20 after receiving a ride from the lovely Lucy to the metro station. Got a phone message from my dad sounding quite ominous and found out that my step-mom is having some health difficulties. Broke my shoe. Left all my money, ID and check card at home. All of my credit cards state to 'check id.' Borrowed money from a co-worker. Did I mention my shoe broke? Attended meeting with SVP whilst slightly hungover. Noticed a massive scar on his cheek and couldn't look away. And, to top it all off was the let down that was Lo Mein Bar in our cafeteria. How can you mess up stir-frying some vegetables? Well, if you mix some horrible sauce that taints the rest of the food, I guess it is possible. I am hoping the rest of the evening goes much more smoothly than earlier today, but I doubt it.