Thursday, April 22, 2010

I think I’m Dumb or maybe just Happy

I recently heard a rumor that was quickly dispelled about Rob being considered for a Kurt Cobain Biopic. While I love me some Rob, (Fucking yeah, buddy I do) I just can't see Rob playing Kurt.  Sure Rob was great as Art in How to Be.
Floppy hair check, ugly sweater check

But there is a huge difference between being cute and neurotic and being strung out on heroin while performing. Not to mention Kurt married the ultimate Yoko.

I've heard rumors that Ewan McGregor or James McAvoy are options as well. While I adore these men I just can't wrap my head around the idea of it. Ethan Hawke fifteen years ago would have been perfect, but alas he's a little old now, given that Cobain was 27 when he died and Ethan Hawke is now….forty, Jesus Christ. is he that old!

Though it's common knowledge, let me remind you that Kurt is from the PacNor (Aberdeen) and so I want someone who is from around here to do it. In this area we hold a few things sacred. Kurt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix and J.P. Patches. Kurt Cobain and Nirvana stand for the Northwest way of life. Come as You Are. (As long as you bring performance fleece and never carry an umbrella)

I would like to see someone who can really portray the torture and pain that Cobain exuded. He was a talisman for a generation and needs to be played by the right person. Personally I think Joe Anderson would be fabulous. I loved him in Across the Universe. His portrayal of a Vietnam vet in the 1960's was fantastic.

So please Courtney Love, don't fuck this one up. I am begging you!

Oh and FYI, way to shoot for the moon with having Scarlett Johansson play you. Dream a little Dream, huh?

I’m such a fan girl

Last night in a burst of energy I sent a fan letter to The Bloggess. If you haven't checked her out do so immediately. She is not only the funniest thing on the Internet,(and I'm sure she would be just s funny in person.) but incredibly insightful about the world. She is a true inspiration to wannabe blogger such as myself and has challenged me to want to be a better writer.

I had recently read her hilarious post of Japanese eyelash glue and felt the urge to let her know just how awesome I think she is. So I wrote her this following letter.

Dear Jenny,

Not to sound too virgin on her sweet sixteen after a few too many Mike's Hard Lemonades, but I've never done this. I've never written to someone I admire before. Probably because I feel like my letter would just get lost in that huge black hole of the Internet. Plus I have a feeling that you are a very busy woman. Yet I still find myself writing to you because you possess an odd mix of snarky humor and genuine affection for your craft. Something about you is so warm and approachable, even though I know you are now a celebrity, I still feel as if you could be my next door neighbor. You are a very talented writer and I wanted you to know that. I'm sure you knew that already, but as a hopeful writer myself, I feel you can never get too much praise. (And apparently use the word too, too often.)

Your sincerity and dedication challenges me to want to be a better writer and person. Thank you for being so honest, both with your humor and with your heart ache. I have suffering from infertility for over three years now and it was so refreshing to see your post (50 things) where you talked about forgiving yourself, your miscarriages. Something about the way you talk about makes me feel as if I'm not alone in this fight. Sorry I'm so blubbery, like I said before; I've never done this before.

Keep up the good work and I can't wait to see your book, I have every faith that you will finish and get it published. You are a famous person now.

A loyal fan,


Now, I honestly thought that she wouldn't get my email any time soon, if ever. I was resigned to the idea I may never hear from her, because let's face it; she probably gets a few more emails than me. Instead I woke up to find a sweet and person response from her.
She thanked me for writing and expressed gratitude for my letter. She also gave me some warm thoughts and well wishes in my battle with those baby blues. Her letter invigorated me and my face hurt from how smiley I was after reading it.

As if I couldn't think this woman was more awesome. Seriously! This letter has lifted my spirits and given me so much hope.

 Thank you Jenny the Bloggess.

I am a true blue fan now.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Some love for my fellow bloggers

If you do not know about Kaleb Nation, you may as well have been living under a rock. He is the hysterical author behind Twilight Guy as well as being the author of Bran Hambric-The Farfield Curse. He also is the creator of some great images including this one.

He read through the saga, writing up his thoughts on each chapter. If you haven't checked it out yet (and if you haven't where have you been?) Do so right now. (Actually read this post, then comment, then go.)

I have been slihgtly neglectful with my love for the saga. Sure I've reading my blogs, faithfully everyday I'm on Twitarded and LTT, quietly lurking on them.

However I can't resist posting this video because it has my favorite girl, Nikki Reed being interviewed by Kaleb Nation.

Man Candy

Let me preface this by saying that I have never seen all of My Own Private Idaho. I have seen portions. I remember that Matt Dillon is in it. Was Kevin Bacon in it? If so then they would have be reunited in Wild Things which is the first lesbian kiss I had seen and the first movie I ever saw a shlong. (and it had to be the Bacon's didn't it?)*

No I haven't seen all of MOPI, (shortened because I'm lazy) but I do know this, there is a gay plot line. And because of the gay plot line I have heard on several occasions that MOPI is slang for a gay man or at least a homo erotic moment. Before there was the term "Brokebackian" the was My Own Private Idaho. Though something tells me that Brokeback Mountain was a little more forthcoming on the man on man candy scenes.

I brought the idea of this term to my father who is Idahoan. (Seriously spell check, that's how you spell it? Okay…) I delightfully informed him that the Term My Own Private Idaho is one that references young gay men. He thought it was quite funny and proceeded to call up several of his friends in Idaho to tell them. I haven't heard if they think it's as funny as he did.

Mr. plays a game online, some space shoot 'em game. On the game they have an erotica board where people post pictures of women in bikinis on top of cars. Recently someone has been posting shirtless pictures of Cristian Renaldo on there. While I find this very funny and slight tantalizing, Mr. is extremely put off by this. I tried to remind him that it is a Erotica board and that not everyone's definition of erotica is a tanorexic woman in dental floss straddling a GTO. I think all he heard was straddling….

*[Fuck...So neither Matt Dillion nor Kevin Bacon were in MOPI. So apparently I am just talking out my ass and didn't pay attention at all. Sorry Gus! Well, I stand by my shlong comment. Not cool Bacon, still not cool.]

Monday, April 19, 2010

The definition of déjà vu…

 I am a totally Movie Junkie. I recently was berating a coworker for never seeing Crybaby. (one of my favorite movies of all time.) But then I realized there are so many movies that have impacted our culture that I have never seen. 

So I set off on a necessary path to righteousness, or at least to see Pretty in Pink. I loved the Breakfast Club and have always held a little flame for Emilio Estevez since Mighty Ducks fame. (Pacey Whitter! Hello!) But the biggest surprise about PIP is not the monstrocity that was Molly Ringwald's prom dress. ( I get it, she was an individual who was fashion forward and everyone else just didn't get it. Nevertheless, that dress was fucking ugly.)

No, the biggest surprise was seeing James Spader in his younger years. I am not a huge fan of his, honestly I've seen him in a few movies but forget what they are after viewing them. It's like that, with one big exception.


One scoop of creamed potatoes. A slice of butter. Four peas. Ah, dinner never sounded so sexy.

Oh Dear Lord, how much do I love this movie! The chemistry between Spader and Gyllenhal is electric. They are both such fucked up individuals who find each other. I know that some people might be turned off my Sub/Dom relationships and it certainly isn't the Notebook class love story. But when you look past the fact that they are brought together by subversive means; it is a real love story. It's about how people can hold others at arm's length at times and how love can help us want to be better people, with spankings— And carrots— and riding crops.

Watching this movie also made me realize how many movies are out there that I haven't yet seen. Including Reality Bites. You know the movie about laissez faire twenty something's trying to find their way. It has Winona before she got all sticky fingers, Ben Stiller looking super young and yuppyish, Steve Zahn who was recently quoted in Rolling Stone to saying "if you google Steve Zahn's ass you'll get like 10 images." (and of course now I can't find the link to save my life...) and  Janeane Garofalo before…well before she disappeared, I guess.

Speaking of her— I totally though that she was the voice of Daria, you know the cartoon that was on MTV in the late 90's? Or was it early 2000's? Who knows…

Any ways watching the movie I couldn't help but think about how handsome that Ethan Hawke was. He was so perfect in the movie as the brooding, Kurt Cobain wanna be. It was adorable even when he was being a huge douche and singing that Violent Femmes song; Add it up. (Which totally won me over—I love that song)

I look at your pants and I need a kiss. 

Friday, April 16, 2010

Jerky Mc Jerkisen

I made the mistake of telling some people at my work about my fear of Aliens and I came into work to see this.

Unfortunately I cannot respond to this vagrant abuse because it is being done by my boss's eleven year old daughter. So calling her an asshole probably wouldn't fly. The worst part is I never specified what kind of aliens I am afriad of. Perhaps it is illegal immigrants?

Luckily not everyone I work with is an asshole. I have a great friend, B, who picked a fight with some people at my work to get me a slice of my birthday cake that they didn't want her to cut out just because it was in the middle. She tried to make them see reason. (It was after all my bday cake too.) 
Unfortunately they were all,
"Wah, it would look weird."
And she was all 'Shut up and give me the cake!"
I give you, the cake.
Visually Dynamic...I need to stop using that phrase.

and my piece.

Yeah Bitches!

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

"What do we want? Patience! When do we want it? Now!**

Do you remember when you were a child and you had to wait sooooo soooo long for things like Christmas or birthdays or the anniversary of your first bird dying.
(We had a lot of dead parakeets in my home...but that is another post for another time...Also did you know that Budgies and parakeets are the same thing, just English slang according to my Harry Potter Website. I was always imagining a squirrel when some one said Budgies.)

Buffy the Budgie (David Boreanaz not included)

When I was younger I was obsessed with Jewel. The singer. The one with the funky teeth and yodeling voice. The one who wrote a poem about mustard in the refrigerator. (Yes I still remember- it's the important things that stick out to me.)

On her album Spirit she had a song at the very end that she sang with her mother. It was a lullaby that they would sing when Jewel was a child. To listen to this track you had to listen through three whole minutes of white noise before the song started.

Don’t say I was patient at some point. But now, alas I am not. I am a very spontaneous person and have been known to go out and chop off all my hair.
Well Sinead O'Rebellion. Shock me shock me shock me with that deviant behavior.

We have grown too used to getting everything right now. And this whole Twilight obsession hasn't helped me at all. Before New Moon came out I was inundated with pictures and videos and sound clips. (They're not Bears) It was a twi-overdose. It was to the point when I was carped out dreaming of boys with keg bellies and grandpa tweed...

Now there has been news that they will be reshooting some pivotal scenes for Eclipse. I hope to holy Hell that they don't push back the release date because if they do, I swear I will go absolutely ballistic. There is no punishment that will compare to the wrath I shall inflict on...Oh right like I could do anything...Shit.

Whatever. I'll be sending out serious passive aggressive vibes as I wear my Team Edward Shirt, with my twi-bracelet and my twi-scarf and my twi-necklace as I drive in my car with a Be Safe sticker on the back.

So watch it Summit. Cause this Bitch means business!

I typed in crazy and this was the first thing to pop up. I love it.

**Credit to Al Franken

Thursday, March 11, 2010

I think Mel Gibson wants to insult me

I'm Catholic; born, baptized and first communion and reconciliation. I used to love going to church when I was younger. Religion is a funny thing as a child; the higher power which ever it may be, seems so large and unwavering. It isn't until we are older that we begin to question the hypocrisy that is organized religion.

But since the age of twelve I haven't regularly attended church, but I have my own faith that doesn't require me to sit in a stuffy church with brown stained glass windows. I believe that everyone should come to their own conclusions about religion.

My parents were married in the same small church that i attended for years. I thought that i would get married in that church, had dreamed of it for years, in fact. But then, years ago Cantante got married there. And they treated her so poorly. She was wasn't allowed to have mass because sher lived with her fiance, the maid of honor was yelled at minutes before walking down the aisle for having exposed shoulders.

the road to hell
Basically, all my ideas of being married in the church were dashed. I was not about to deal with the
sanctimony involved. Mr., not being Catholic was fine with the idea. I would have had to strong arm him into it anyways.

I also like to joke about religion in a borderline blasphamous way. One of my all time favorite movies is Dogma. Not only because it has such a great cast but because it deals with religion is a way that proves how miscontrued religion can be. PLus it has Jay and Silent Bob in it. My favorite part?

Cardinal Glick: Mass attendance is at an all-time low in this country. But if we can let 'em know the Catholic church has a little panache, we can win 'em back – even get some new ones...Fill them pews, people! That's the key. Grab the little ones as well. Hook 'em while they're young.

Rufus: Kind of like the tobacco industry?

Cardinal Glick: Christ, if only we had their numbers.

George Carlin is a genius.

So that makes me a Cafeteria Catholic, (see definition three) . Which is fine by me.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Way to creep everyone out there….

I am obsessed with true crimes. Especially ones that involve serial killers. I love serial killers—not in a killer groupies, marriage in a prison chapel way. (He hasn't returned my letter.) No I'm simply fascinated about the psychosis behind a killers mind. What drives them to kill and how a person can look so normal and be burying young boys under his house ala John Wayne Gacy. In the Pacific Northwest we have a lot of serial killers; Robert Lee Yates, Gary Ridgeway. Kenneth Bianchi was convicted of the murder of two girl in Bellingham. My sister, Toby Tyler actually lived in Ted Bundy's house in the U-district of Seattle. I devour books about true crimes. I have read almost every book Ann Rule has ever written and obsessively watch shows like American Justice and City Confidential. A few years ago Mr.'s parents got me Time Life's collection of True crime stories. I religiously watch CSI, (Except Miami—I want to go Gracie Lou Freebush on his ass.)

Mr. always jokes with his friends that if he goes missing they should question me first and I'm all Hello! One, the spouse is always the first to be interrogated and two, I would totally get away with it.

Okay, so I've officially hit an all time creepiness factor here. I think it's time for me to shut up.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

I wish I had more gay friends

It seems to me that there is a world out there of gay men that I haven't quite infiltrated. The idea of being a fag hag has a glamorous vibe to it. I don’t know why, I think I just want it because I’m on the outside looking in. Let’s face it, try as I might I will never be a gay man. But I love anything that has to do with gay men. And I love, Love, love Margaret Cho….She is responsible for the line I use more often than any other to reference about a break up.

“I love you…but I’m not in Love with you….and you pee blood so later!”

Saturday, March 6, 2010

I hope the aliens never come to get me.

Last night I was sitting in my disco tub with the Mr., drinking wine and looking up at the stars. Very romantic, I know. Now, a few days ago Mr. swears that he saw an UFO. Of course me being a fuck-tard, had to start asking him about Aliens. As in in martians…as in little green men as in…okay, I have no more names for them. I am undecided as to my thoughts on whether or not there are in fact aliens. On one hand it seems like the universe is very expansive and there would be some sort of higher being out there. On the other hand, I’m human, selfish, narcissistic and a bit of a douche bundle. Ergo; I am the highest being any where. Plus I’m American which means that there is no one more fantastic than me…Just ask me.

Although my theories on Aliens are not entirely formed. I have a huge fear of them. If in fact they are real, I have no doubt that they would kidnap me and torture me with things like the Macarena and anal beads bought at your local Castles…(Hey, they’d be investigating our lives, could you blame them?...Not that either one is my life…Fuck…)
Jousting set not included

The Mr. tried to explain why I should be afraid of the visitors from space because the chances of them being sadistic are low. Because friendly aliens are every where.

So, I am terrified by aliens. Ghosts not so much. The basic theories behind ghosts are that they at some point were human, like me. So on some level I’m sure I could related to them, although of course there would be that one asshole ghost who is like that guy at your Halloween party who dresses up as a cowboy, grabs his balls frequently and tries to explain the perks of fucking “a dandy donkey.”

She is really funny too!

But for the most part the ghosts would be fairly nice. With the obvious exception of the psychopathic ghosts. About 0.1 % of the Earths population is psychopaths. We're talking worse than your run of the mill Sebastian Valmount; no were talking Jame Gumb, starving women to wear their skins.

I reason that if the earthly realm has that many, that the ghost world would too. So I will take my chances, that I may some day run into a sociopathic ghost hell bent on killing me. Because that seems better than ET.

Get the fuck away from me!

Friday, March 5, 2010

Some witty title about country music

Is it just me or does the cute member of Rascall Flatts have mad gay face? I don't think he could be gay, because I'm pretty sure he married a super model or a stripper or something like that*. I don't remember…

Jo Don Rooney, I wish I could say I made that name up.

There was a point that I loved country music. My friends and I used to cruise around listening to Kenny Chesney at top volume. I dreamed of Tim McGraw and had a major girl crush on Faith Hill. I even went to see Rascall Flatts at the Tacoma Dome in 2005. Their song "I'm moving on" was a huge motivator in deciding to move down to Arizona with my husband. I enjoy partaking in the simpler things. Every summer we go out on the lake, drink Coors Light and burn to a crispy fuchsia.

This picture was taken after two bottles of gas station champagne and a smushed ham sandwich.

But around the time of the Dixie Chicks Top of the World controversy, I stopped liking it. I blame Toby Keith. He totally turned country music off to me. Now when I listen to country all I can think of is that man making comments about the Dixie Chicks (Who transcend country music) accusing them of being unpatriotic and even traitors for speaking their minds? I had thought that music could bring people together but apparently in some circles, country music is a good ol' boys game. It makes me sad.

[*just found out his wife was a playmate…and they named their son Jagger]

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Funny Video

So I love Jimmy Fallon. "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart-Ichabod Crane called he wants his hair style back..." But mostly because he started a campaign to have the cast of Saved by the Bell reunite. I used to love that show and had the biggest crush on Zach Morris. Plus Jimmy played beer pong with Rose from Golden Girls.

The original Gangster

So, just imagine my delight when I saw that Rob made an appearance on the short "Robert is Bothered" It's always nice when a star is able to poke fun at themselves. Also I think in this video, Jimmy makes a better Rob than Rob does. I love you sweetie but you need to play it cool if you want any chance with me. All I'm saying!

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Samoas are yummy

So, it's my birthday. I've found that once you reach a certain age; i.e. anything above 21, birthdays aren't too exciting. You still have to work; you don't get to buy an excessive amount of scratch tickets and cans of Copenhagen for your father. You don't get to wear a velvet dress anymore. (Side note—I totally had one too. And I was a hottie in it, but I digress.) You don't get a piñata or tickets to visit your neglectful mother in Florida. You don't get attacked by a hot guy with a bad toupee. You can't try to seduce your cold skinned boyfriend who is protecting his "virtue" whatever the fuck that is…You don't get dream catchers from muscled boys who speak basic Spanish. Oh wait. That wouldn't happen to me at all...

Do I need to knock a bitch out to wear velvet again?

Instead, I have to work, which is fine I suppose. I have gotten some pretty sweeet presents including a wilted daffodil and dollar store lotion. Ah, the perks of teaching two year olds...At least I get to gorge myself on Girl Scout cookies.

See even Rob likes them. He wants me to have a happy birthday...

So to be as narcissistic as I am. Happy Birthday to Me!

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Chapter Eight Teaser

Just a little teaser for my story Runaway. I posted chapter seven on Twilighted and fanfiction.

Thoughts? Rants? Does the ice cream make sense now?


The next chapter is going to shed some light on why Bella's so messed up.


Monday, March 1, 2010

Happy Birthday to my parents.

A few odd years ago, my parents were born. On the same day, in the same year. Mere hours apart and an entire state away. On their 29th birthday my Mom went into labor with me; giving me a birthday the day after theirs. My parent were always the cool parents, the fun parents. All my friends wanted my aprents for their own. Jealous, bitches.

My Father likes to be called "Your Awesomeness" and my mother is the spitting image of Rachel Greene from Friends. Yeah, she's that good looking. It is impossible not to love my parents.

 They totally rock and I wish I could give them a tribute that they truly deserve but instead I want to show the best picture of them ever taken. The photographic proof that my parents can party down.

Yes, this is my parents. No you cannot borrow them.

Happy Birthday Your Awesomeness and Beans.

I love you!

Northwest Profile-angry at Twilight

As a girl who has resided in the Pacific Northwest for 24 of my 25 years. I am a Western Washingtonian through and through. I can pronounce Sequim and Puyallup. I have never used an umbrella and can identify at least five different names for rain. Full list here Now, up here we have these hilarious commercials from Pemco. Northwest Profiles. They feature things inside jokes such as "Sandals with socks guy" (My Dad) and "Ski's in Rain Guy" all people I know quite well. Now because as a people we are quite pretentious. I give you my list of why Twilight pisses me off. I admit I am rambling and a huge whiner. But this is my blog and I'm going to do what I damn well please.

1. There is no bridge like the one in the opening credits near Forks. The bridge featured is the Bridge of the Gods over the Columbia River, between Washington and Oregon. The story behind this bridge is fasinating.

2. In the movie, Charlie makes a comment about Kitsap County sheriff. Now, as a local of the fine county I was glad for the publicity, having the last mention be in Walking Tall. (Which is not a favorable movie.) Now geographically there is a large county between Clallam and Kitsap. Jefferson County. I am very fond of this place, as it housed many a party where we all drank beer from a keg attached to a four wheeler. Ah, the good old days.

3. Forks is hyped to look very exciting. It is in fact a very nice small town which until Twilight came out was touted as the "Logging capital of the World." In the NW, loggers are our version of Cowboys. He don't have hicks, we have loggers. So in fact it more like this-

 And lastly. And I stress this is the most important point. YOU CANNOT DRIVE TO CANADA! No, you have to take a ferry from Port Angeles to Victoria. If you wanted to drive or run to Canada you would have to cross over three counties until you are in Seattle. Don't believe me? Take a look at a map.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Things happen for a reason.

As I was watching Twilight again this weekend, a certain scene reminded me of an ex-boyfriend, who had an odd infatuation with girls in ponytails. He loved it when I would wear my hair up in a ponytail. He liked to lightly tug on it. Nothing naughty. (I was only seventeen after all) Often when I wear my hair up, I think of either my ex or this scene in twilight.

That was the first night I dreamt of Edward Cullen...

For some reason I never put the two together. I never thought about the two at the same time. This boyfriend was ordinary; a thin and blond. He liked to think he resembled the lead singer from Lifehouse. This of course was when the band came out and "Hanging by a moment" made my little teen heart swoon.

Same hair do...about it...

He worked as a prep cook at a local seafood restaurant and because of this always smelled slightly like fried cod. He was a high school dropout who swore his eternal devotion to me. I found out years later he cheated several times, of course by then I wasn't too upset about it. What did I expect, right? He was friends with a lot of my friends, including the Mr. who lived next door to him. Years later R told me that he and all their friend always wondered why I settled for that guy.

Really there wasn't anything that exciting about my relationship with B. It was short and much like Deana Carter; the fields have grown over now... (Oh, how poetic am I) I honestly don't know why I dated him for so long and this is my hypothesis. I am a firm believer in things happening for a reason. I feel that my relationship with B happened so I could learn the following things.

1. To realize that no matter how hard you scrub the smell of fish does not get out of your clothes.

2. Sweater vests will never look good on a man.

3. Guys do not appreciate having the song "Creep" put on a mixed CD for them.

The biggest thing that came from my dating B was months after breaking up I asked the Mr. to prom. I never would have talked to him in the first place had it not been for B. As neighbors I spent a lot of time standing there looking stupid as the guys talked about carburetors and pistons. Once I broke things off with B, I kept in contact with Mr., we ran in the same circles and months later we found ourselves dating. I was hesitant to date R; I didn't want a repeat of my previous relationship. Of course I couldn't have been more wrong. Everything that was wrong with my previous relationship the Mr. made it right. And best of all he doesn't resemble the lead singer of a Christian rock band.

As I peruse the internet

I should be working on my story now. I have the time, my hair is literally in curlers (I feel very Bloggess esque.) and I am wearing an oversized bathrobe. On a Friday night. The Mr. is taking a nap, because that's what we do, we nap.

But I digress. I should be working on my story but instead I was looking at funny pictures on the internet and  was stalking people on twitter...when this little gem came up....

Now, I am no fashionista, but that prom dress is rocking it. Much more so than that sad excuse for the TJ Maxx 39.95 special they got for the movie.

I'll take good care of her...because I'm certainly not doing her in that dress...

I kid I kid, sort of. I guess I can't talk; I too am guilty of a fashion faux pas or two. My prom dress made me look like Barbara Eden. Or Christina Aguilera. Whichever.

(A friend actually wrote that I was 'a genie in a bottle at prom')

No what bothers me is that so far in this series they haven't lived up to my costuming dreams. Where is crazy Alice shoving Bella into wild couture?

that’s more like it.

And don't even get me started on the Alice in Wonderland get ups from the vision...Ugh.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Vitamin R

Around these parts Rainer Beer has a huge cult following. Cheap dregs! Oh no. It is the official beer of Twilight, in the summers people make giant sand sculptures in its likeness. There is a community near me that reveres it like holy water.

So Here you go!

Chug a chug a

My very sweet and hilarious friend The Train (Which the name sounds far dirtier than it really is)  just started a blog. I wanted to plug her because lets face it. She's awesome! She is also the only one who comments. I really need to figure out how to get more followers. Maybe I'll pay some one. Yeah....a nickel for every follower. That'll do it! Any who, Hers to you Train. I heart you. Even when you try to have me make sexy face and it looks like I'm a having a seizure. Plus she sips Jager. Sips, not shoots. Because she is a bad ass bitch.

Bedazzling debacle

Because I am the most selfless person there has ever been, I have offered to journey the two hours, to go to Forks to purchase Twilight related items for a Twilight basket for the pageant. A regular olds saints I know.

Only for the sake of the program shall I endure this...

So on valentines day weekend R and I stayed up in Kalaloch to spend a little quality time together. Of course it was romantic and sweet and WE DROVE THROUGH FORKS!  So on the way there I had the following conversation with my husband.

R- So are you going to make me go to the twilight store.

Me-You don't have to come in, You can just wait in the car.

R-No I'll come in to....Whats it called Bedazzled by twilight.

Me-Dazzled, it's dazzled by Twilight.

R-Yeah, Bedazzled, like i said.

Me-Edward Cullen does bedazzle, Bedazzling is dumb,

R- So is Twilight

Jerk. Like he was implying that Edward Cullen looked like some Douche dressed like Andrew Dice Clay.


An accusation that I find very insulting. Of course There is no way the perfection that is Edward Cullen or more importantly Rob would be, well, bedazzled.

Dazzled on the other hand....

When I was planning my wedding i frequented a forum on the Knot called Not Engaged Yet. Why there is even a forum for such a topic I'm not sure, but I assure you that the majority of the women on that frequented the site were married and bitchy. While it was fun to watch them get in arguments over what was tackier; heart shaped diamonds or regisrty cards in invitaions. Seriously. And they would torture any girl who would cluelessly wander in looking for advice on how to make her boyfriend propose. The thing that remains with me the most was that they talked  about bedazzling the vay jay jay. Yep, the Vay Jay Jay. The elusive ya.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Jessica is a bad bitch. (and not the good kind)

Jessica Stanley is guiltier as Lauren Mallory. While Lauren is the obvious bitch in the story, it is apparent that she is insecure and shallow. Jessica is more unassuming. While she does not throw the barbs, she does nothing to stop them from striking. I feel for Jessica, because I was once Jessica. Easily swayed and foolish.

This is serious post. Just a forewarning. When I was in junior high I became friends with a really great girl, J. To this day she is probably the sweetest girl I have ever met. She was funny and nice as could be. She did however have Cerebral Palsy. Not bad enough to inhibit her walking but bad enough that it was quite noticeable. For this reason she was a bit unpopular. At the time it didn't matter because I was too. We spent a lot of time together and I even joined drill team because she did it. Of course like a lot of friendships that occur at this time, something happened. High School to be precise. At some point during my sophomore year in high school I began to make new friends. Started dating boys, going to parties. Suddenly I didn't have time for my friend that i would watch Sailor Moon with. It was never an intentional thing, it just happened. I was fifteen, sitting in the hot tub drinking stolen mikes hard lemonades with some new friends. At some point a friend made a rude comment about J. In that moment I could have corrected her, shamed her for saying things about the sweetest girl I had ever known. But I didn't. Instead I chuckled half heartedly and took a big pull off my drink. This moment was a defining one for me. After that I was in the in crowd, or at least on the outskirts. I had a new group of friends; prettier and intimidating. How could my friendship with J last? Although we went to the same small high school and graduated at the same time. After that party I don't think I spoke more than five word to her. The consequences of me standing by still haunt me. I don't think my friendship mattered enough to J to hurt her when it was gone. But knowing that I had basically abandoned a quality friend in lieu of shinier models, it bothers me to this day. When I look back on those days, I feel just as responsible for any pain she suffered, than if I had said those words myself. Sometimes standing by while some one is being hurt leaves you just as culpable.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Grammar Phonic electronic disco baby

Exactly what I would do. I'm a snatch like that.

At work I am well know as being that twat who goes around correcting grammatical mistakes. Like a ninja, I sneak around and change there to they're. I correct alot to a lot. It is a well known fact, I try to hold my tongue but I can't handle it when mistakes like these are being made. Plus we're teachers. We are in charge of the future of America and some of us don't know the difference between your and you're. That being said I can't for the life of me, spell weird right. (or is it wierd...I should only say odd from now on.) or spell separate. FYI when I went to spellcheck this Word wanted Separate to be Penetrate. Awesome.

I have a story published on Twilighted. It's called Runaway (Pimp out). I have had some issues as of late regarding getting it published because apparently i suck at punctuation. While most constructive criticism I take well, this was hard to deal with. Me? I have never made a punctuation mistake. (I realize how many there are in this post alone.) I'm the girl who actually got a "get out of jail free" card in English because I corrected something SHE wrote. True story. So I have trouble digesting the idea that my story needs work because of punctuation. Luckily my beta is fabulous and basically has been whispering sweet nothings to me for the past few days so that I don't throw my lap top off a bridge.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Heroin Chic

I am a preschool teacher. On average we are a tame bunch. All cute and sing songy. A few years ago, I worked with a really sweet girl who married young and had two small boys. At some point of her marriage she decided that she didn't actually want that kind of life. So she did the only logical thing there is to do in that situation. She went absolutely insane. We aren't talking about quirky cute crazy. No, she went Britney Spears on us. She left her husband and two boys, began to come to work in a pink wig.
Sure, you can trust me with your children.

When this occured, my friends and I tried to figure out what her deal was. Was she simply a case of a girl who married too young? Or perhaps she was on something. That got me thinking. You never hear about some one on heroin anymore. What ever happened to the grandeur of heroin chic?
Oh, yeah. That was a good look...

Instead we have the ugliness of other drugs. Instead of Kate Moss we get Amy Winehouse.

After time has passed I can say with all certainty that she was indeed on something. High on life, I think not. Especially when she started working at a bar wearing a school girl costume and shamrock pasties. A look that I not matter how time passes, I don't think I could ever pull off.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Team Bella

Over Christmas my father had decided that he was neither Team Edward or Team Jacob. Instead he would be Team Bella. I tried to argue that there really shouldn't be a team Bella because we all know that Bella gets everything she wants in the end any way. Selfish Be-otch. (Jealous much?) However he insists that he is team Bella.
Proud Member

Now as much as I would like to say that there isn't  a Team Bella. Apparently I have to concede to my Dad. I have a hard time listening to my dad on subject such as this because he has a long history of being out of the loop on these subjects. For years he wore a tee shirts from hot topic and cut off sweatpants. These look complimented his Magnum PI mustasche quite well.

My fathers Doppleganger (plus a few pounds)

After some extensive thought on the subject I have decided that, while there may be Team Bella. My father is is not on that team. Why, you may ask. One word; Wolverines.

"Now Sue, she would have made one hell of a wolf. Leah’s more of a wolverine"

Sound familiar? Well, my father is from a magical place called Weiser. Home of the Fighting Wolverines.

Population in 1970; 4,108.

4,107 once my Dad left to go Central Oregon Community College in Bend, Oregon. Or as Dad calls it; COCC. (I am not making this up).

So I'm sorry, dear old Dad, but it would appear that you are in fact Team Leah.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

A day too late, but love all the same.

I am the world’s biggest procrastinator. As my mother likes to say "You work with your buns against the blade." Charming image, I know. After a long day of doing absolutely nothing at home the Mr. and I went to see Valentine’s Day. As is expected it was a cute predictable romantic comedy. (With the exception of the Bradley Cooper/Eric Dane scene....That was wonderful) Watching the scenes with Swiftner brought me back to when I first started dating R.

It was a mere two months before graduation. I needed a date for prom and as a friend I asked him. I thought he was cute and funny and smart. I didn't expect what would happen. Between April 9th and May 11th I fell completely in love with him. Insanely in love. Every time I saw him my stomach would do back flips and I couldn't help but smile. The first time he said the words I was in Victoria, BC on a choir trip. He was high on pain meds from getting all his wisdom teeth out. I didn't think he remembered it and I was too scared to bring it up. It was weeks later when we finally said it. (Sober) In August R had to go to Phoenix for school. Even though we had only been together for five months, I agreed to move down there with him.

This is the part of my story that I tell people this; if I heard of an eighteen year old girl moving to another state with her boyfriend after only dating for five months, I would say they are crazy and foolish. But the truth of the matter is, when it's right you just know. I never doubted that I was making the right choice. I knew that R was the one right away. I would have gone anywhere with him. I have never doubted how much I love him and to this day (eight years later) he still gives me butterflies.

It isn't an exciting tale. There are no vampires or werewolves. But in my opinion, first love is the most exciting feeling out there. And really the saga isn't about the supernatural creatures. It’s about love. It's about knowing deep down, when you have found the right one. It's about how love is the most exhilarating feeling ever. It's about how it can scare you to the tips of your fingers to know that giving yourself completely to another person is the most harrowing experience ever. When I was young I thought that love was for the weak. For people who needed someone to rely on. Now I know that love, real love is for the strong. You have to have an insane amount of strength to love someone completely. In the entire saga the part that strikes me the most is this.

"One thing I truly knew—knew it in the pit of my stomach, in the center of my bones, knew it from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, knew it deep in my empty chest—was how love gave someone the power to break you."

Happy day after Valentine's Day!

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Pacific Northwest, WA, United States
The (Somewhat) true tales of twenty something northwest woman obsessed with Twilight, Pageants and various shallow things.

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Beware of some mature content in here. You've been warned.

This is just the rantings of a woman who is slightly crazy. Obviously I am a bit narcissistic. I have obsessive tendencies toward a multitude of teenage directed materials. I should grow up already-but alas, here I am.


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