DRINKING COSTUMES!

Ok, so as you are all aware, I recently had what can only be classified as a really ridiculous weekend of intoxication.

While getting to see my college roommate/best friend, and watching the NCAA mens basketball tournament opening weekend all at the same time, served up with copious amounts of alcohol was intoxicating on its own, we added another dimension of fun...

[Enter the drinking costumes:]


To directly quote my introduction to the concept, which was e-mailed to me roughly a week before the actual event, "how do you feel about drinking costumes? because Tricia and I are big on them, and trust me, you may think there's nothing better than drinking, but just mull over this concept for a minute: Drinking while wearing a funny hat. I'm just throwing it out there, because one of my best drinking experiences EVER took place in room 114 at the Red Roof Inn in Canton, OH, and Tricia wore a brown paper bag with eye-holes poked in it and a necktie while drinking a 40. I wore a dress and a winter hat with furry ear flaps."

Needless to say, I am not one to take that kind of challenge lightly, so I took the idea and ran with it.

After Kirsten arrived and we drank A LOT on Friday night, we slept in a little bit on Saturday, but our first stop of the day was a local costume shop known as the Nick-Nackery. Kirsten insisted we go there based solely on the name of the institution. (She had no idea what she was in for!)

The store itself is something of a haphazardly assembled crap-hatchery. (But it is totally endearing in its own kitschy way!) And since it is stocked to the rafters with some of the most bizarre and ridiculous stuff, there is nothing there which is not worth loving.

The basic premise going in was that little (if anything) was to match, and that the more over the top and wild, the better. So that's how it went.

Kirsten purchased a bagged set "Sherlock Holmes hat and pipe," an Uncle Sam beard, and a stuffed parrot to perch on her shoulder.

I purchased a gold sultan/genie hat (complete with beads and purple feathers) and a plastic chest (complete with leather straps and nipple rings.)

As far as being ridiculous goes, we think we got the job done... look at the pictures to make your own assessment... And before you ask, YES, WE DID GO OUT IN PUBLIC IN THESE.


Momma went for a rather sedate look with a sequined hat and sparkly glasses.

You know you're jealous of my 6-pack abs! (And I only had to pay 10 bucks for them, instead of spending all that time and money on a gym membership!)


Kirsten is out to solve the mystery of where that alcohol needs to go...


Admittedly, the beard was a little itchy, so this look was deemed sufficient for the night.


Mom just had to know what it was like to have nipple rings...


Traci, rather surprisingly, had all this stuff at her house already... A star spangled bandanna, cheesy sunglasses, a lasso, the top half of a bridesmaid's dress, a giant belt buckle, camo pants (and a Mr. Rodgers sweater to be seen shortly.)


Ahhhhh.... There it is!


While we're being ridiculous in the comforts of home, why not assume a curious pose...


While out at the bar, Mr. Watson (Kirsten's parrot) needed a smoke.


Mr. Watson was strangely the only one photographed in public, though numerous bar patrons and the entire staff can attest that we were all there in full regalia.

The staff of Taco Bell can also attest to our public display of awesomeness and willingness to humiliate ourselves for the sake of greater amusement!

After a little sleep, a home cooked meal by momma, and more basketball, we opted for a more sedate night in... But with really great accessories to top things off!



Removing all encumbrances, it's time to get down to business!


And it's not a real weekend of debauchery until someone gets hurt... I dropped a wine bottle, obliterated a wine glass, and put a hole in my hand.

But when you're rounding out the night with a glass of Menage a Trois, it's been a good run even with injuries included.


That's how we roll...

Please don't neglect the new textual post below!

Unsatisfied...

Ok, so it is no secret that I am totally unfulfilled by my work these days.

And after 8 years of VERY loyal service, my mom's boss' wife (please note, not my mom's boss, and not someone who has anything to so with the business at all, merely his idiot wife...) accused her of stealing... (Which is laughably ludicrous.) So needless to say, she's a little disillusioned with her current employer.

Basically, it might be a recession, but we're both looking to move on, and hopefully move on in a hurry.

When my landlord called to ask if I was giving my 60 day notice because my lease will be up soon, I told her no, but that I was going to be going month to month.

Basically I'm going to be packing up again soon. (And unlike previous moves, I'm ok with this one, because despite the fact that I utterly loathe and detest my job, I will voluntarily leave my current job with an invaluable letter of recommendation when I go applying to grad school in the market I'm planning to move near for the sole purpose of educational and career advancement.)

In the same vein, I have submitted a sterling resume to a law firm in that area that is actively hiring left and right. (I filled that gap in my work history with some freelance bartending and event planning which I made look FAAAAAAAR more productive and important than it actually was, as you all know.) (Kirsten, who works there, actually assisted me in hand crafting the resume to suit their liking.) And despite the fact that I was told that it might take them a little while to get back to me, I compulsively check my e-mail in the hopes of making a quick exit.

In other, somewhat unrelated news, I have booked the travel for my Vegas trip, and I could not be more excited about it. Let's keep in mind that my cousin and his ridiculous lifestyle are handling pretty much everything financial on this trip aside from the airfare. If I've got to spend the whole trip boozing it up and lounging on my ass next to the pool, then so be it, because when I found out that we are staying as VIPs at the Wynn, I about soiled myself. (And if you took the time to click that link, yes, that is a Rolls Royce in the front page picture.) And yes, I am aware that when we arrive it is entirely likely that we will walk into the lobby and they will turn me around and escort me out saying that they can literally smell the poor on me. But they will be forced to eat a little crow, because ... well ... Because I can tell them that not only am I a guest, I am a VIP. (Mind you that my dear cousin informed me that during his last trip to Vegas he won more than I make in a year, but since he's the one making the reservations, and he's booking for all of us, they will have to love me by proxy.)

The trip is coming up in less than three weeks, so really, I'm almost buzzing with excitement, and I will have no qualms about telling anyone who will listen to my sorry ass just how jazzed I am.

I realize that most will probably miss this post because I am posting picture of my recent drunken weekend immediately above, but what the hell... you deserve the full story if you go so far as to check the title of the post below the pictures to ensure it's something you've actually read.

I love you for reading and essentially validating my existence at this point.

Not Dead Yet...

I haven't died, landed in jail, or the hospital. I am, however, much too tired to properly recap the weekend for you.

Have a good day my loves.

Oh, and Brenda, I believe the drink in the header is modeled on a gibson, but instead of having an olive, it is served with a pearl onion. The yellow object in the glass is a lemon twist which is only the outermost layer of a lemon rind with no actual fruit attached. It does not actually belong in a gibson, and I am confident in saying whomever did the food and beverage styling on this particular shoot had no knowledge of proper drink garnishes.

Kirsten said it best...

"It's like I'm seven, and this has been the week before Christmas... and when I'm driving tomorrow, it'll be like going to sleep to wait for Santa... It is here, but it still feels so far away... I just can't wait any longer!"

I replied with, "I know... I've been telling anyone and everyone who will listen that I'm just so damn excited... and I think it shows... If I had a tail it would have probably fallen off from all the excited wagging by now."

Basically it's going to be a magical weekend of booze, basketball, drinking costumes, and generalized hilarity.

I anticipate either drinking myself into a coma, ending up handcuffed to Kirsten in the back of a sheriff's car, laughing so hard that I manage to develop a 6-pack, or any combination of the above.

It's going to be great!

It's officially a national holiday!!!

Ok, maybe not for everyone else, but for March Madness nuts such as myself, today is the start of something that tops Christmas in my book. (Seriously, this is what gets me through the winter months!)

To top it off, Kirsten will be here in little more than 36 hours. This makes March Madness just that much more awesome.

Basically, I am so giddy, I'm ready to soil myself, and every spare moment will be spent checking the ESPN.com live scoreboards for updates if a TV is not available.

Brenda, in response to your question, I'll be in Vegas in about a month. And it will be GLORIOUS.

As far as plans for the weekend go, you know the basic gist of things if you've read the lengthy post below, but in an effort to illustrate the bigger picture, I'll let you in on a conversation I had with my uncle earlier today. I called and left my uncle a message inviting him to come out for copious amounts of adult beverages and basketball viewing, and he called back with this:

Liz: Hello?
Uncle: You're a woman after my own heart, and you're going to make some man VERY VERY happy someday if you continue calling and leaving messages like that!
Liz: From your lips to god's ears!
Uncle: So basketball and beer, is there a more perfect combination in all of creation?
Liz: No. No there really isn't... And we plan to have our fill of both if you're available to join us.
Uncle: You've got a friend coming into town, you say?
Liz: Yes, and she and I are both of the belief that this weekend should be spent focused on the important things in life; those being sports and alcohol.
Uncle: Well, your aunt is taking off with your cousin on Saturday morning for spring break... Your other cousin is possibly coming home from college at some point this weekend, so I've got some loose ends out there, but once some things are nailed down a little bit more firmly, I'll let you know when I'm available... But seeing as I believe that the first few days of the tournament should be considered national holidays, or at least work-optional paid days off, you can bet that I will be in touch.
Liz: Marvelous... And keep in mind, we're mobile. If you can't come to the party, if you've got beer, the party can come to you!
Uncle: Your parents did such a good job raising you!

And here's a long overdue QOTD:

Traci: "Oh, I might have to bail on you on Friday night... But we'll get together for drinking costumes at some point this weekend."
Liz: "You're bailing on plans with me on a key weekend... There's got to be a reason... Booty call?"
Traci: (Nods)
Liz: "Go on and get yours girl!"
Traci: "I knew you wouldn't be upset... If there was ever anyone who would understand it's you."
Liz: "Hey, I get so little action these days I'm all for promoting it in others just so I know that it still goes on. So make me proud, and go out there and get you some!"
Traci: "Oh I intend to. And I'd have gone even if I didn't have your approval, but I feel better about it knowing that you do approve."

And another QOTD just for good measure:

(I had Traci and Addi over for drinks)
Liz: "Can I offer you an adult beverage?"
Addi: "What have you got?"
Liz: "Well, plenty of mixers, and plenty of vodka... I don't drink gin, so whatever you want will have to be vodka-based."
Addi: "I don't know..."
Traci: "How about a cosmo?"
Addi: "What's in that?"
Liz: "Citrus vodka, triple sec, cranberry and lime juice."
Addi: "Hmmm..."
Liz: "I'm not going to force you into anything, but like I said, it needs to be vodka based because I don't drink vodka...
Traci and Addi: (GASP!)
Liz: "I meant gin... I meant gin! I don't drink gin!"
Addi: "You said you don't drink vodka... I think a fairy just died!"

FYI....

I'm drunkity drunk right now.... It's really the only way I can compensate at this exact moment.


Just so you know, I have had a shitty week at work, including a shitty case conference with "crazy mom," a regular session with crazy mom, and a couple of phone consults with crazy mom...

Basically "Crazy mom" is the bane of my existence at the moment...

(As I've noted. I am REALLY drunk. The typos are the bare minimum I can handle at the moment.)

In addition to my normal level of cancellations and case changes, I've also got to deal with her crazed idiocy.

I can't wait to quit my job, and I've told people at the state agency which my company reports to that I am on my way out... It's really only a question of timing as opposed to eventuality.

(To be honest, I'm trying to figure out a way to use my vacation time before I'm outie-boom-boutie without seeming totally callous and hateful before my 2 weeks notice.)

I've put in for 4 or 5 days of vacation, and I've still got 2 weeks to use up... I am trying to work out exactly how to polish my paid days off by utilizing them before I give my notice because I can just because I can... SHIT.

And with that, I post a few e-mails I've exchanged with my partner in crime: (The partner in crime is the former roommate I'm expecting in roughly a week...)

"Dear Admiral,

First things first, I have sent this to both your personal and work e-mail addresses. I don't want to be a drain on your work time and therefore a cause of stress if that's what this translates into, but I'm issuing this sidebar as a mini distraction to be used at your convenience, be it at home or at work if needed.

Ok, so a few things came to mind after our little conversation earlier.

1) We're going to have to fly to get to Vegas... Do we need to drug you up to manage that? It can be arranged...

2) We have some serious bar decisions to be made. As I said already, Friday night is BAR X for sure. I'm thinking a driving tour might be in order to make informed decisions about the rest... We'll figure that out down the road though, I'm sure.

3) At some point we will have to call to my cousin to discuss the Vegas plans... We'll all book flights together, that way we show up together, and whatnot. (So it would probably be best if you brought whatever charge card or account info needed to book the flight.)

4) At some point we will work on hand crafting my resume to suit the HR folks at your firm.

5) We will drink 40s on my deck.

6) We will hang out with momma at some point... and possibly grandpa. Just Momma is better, but that was a given.

7) We might run into my brother's place for a beverage, but while the food is good, they are grossly overpriced for a march madness weekend, so we won't stay long. This is quite typical for interaction involving interaction with my brother.

8) As for March Madness, despite the fact that we are both grossly under-informed about this year's tournament prospects I think it is key that we determine a time to teleconference about our selections sometime after selection Sunday... The call might end up being pared down from our normal 4-5 hour range to a mere 2-3 hours since we both readily admit that we don't know much of anything this year. We will both probably need to make multiple copies of our brackets, as I'm sure that at least one will end up in a toilet at Bar X or some other local bar over the course of the weekend.

I think I've really hit the high points... (There will be a check list upon your arrival to ensure we accomplish all of our goals.)

Please feel free to add any thoughts of your own on the matter. (I promise not to berate you for the response, as I am interested in your input.)

Thank you, that is all."

The admiral's reply:

"In no particular order:

1) Vegas. Yes. I'm getting hyped. I will have my credit card all warmed up and ready to go. But yes, we will probably need to dope me up A LOT for the flight. I currently have a vicodin that is so high powered it's not even really called vicodin anymore, but I don't see that lasting until april....

Also, I have become excited about the notion of properly supplementing my wardrobe for this trip. I think that while we are in vegas we should get really dressed up and then walk the street with some alcoholic beverage (the trashier the better - maybe gin and juice?) just because i'm told we are able to do that- walk the streets with alcohol, that is.

2) Multiple copies of brackets. Why have I never done this before? I find myself having to dry out the same beer soaked bracket over and over again because for some reason it never occurs to me to just hit up the xerox machine. I'm thinking next Tuesday for our teleconference. What do you think?

3) I think resumes and 40s go hand in hand. usually. or that's what some scholar told me anyway. That scholar being myself, when incredibly intoxicated. We'll just have to make sure we don't decided to create and in turn submit said resume when too far under. I can see "air-types 400,000 words per minute" becoming a really hilarious idea for something to put as a specialized skill, but in real life, that's not that funny.

4) how do you feel about drinking costumes? because Tricia (the admiral's sister) and I are big on them, and trust me, you may think there's nothing better than drinking, but just mull over this concept for a minute: Drinking while wearing a funny hat. I'm just throwing it out there, because one of my best drinking experiences EVER took place in room 114 at the Red Roof Inn in Canton, OH, and Tricia wore a brown paper bag with eye-holes poked in it and a necktie while drinking a 40. I wore a dress and a winter hat with furry ear flaps.

5) I just want to say that there is really no way this trip can go wrong unless we both end up in Jail. We can do a driving tour and pick the most appealing looking places, just based on gut instinct, or we can at a later time develop some other comical methodolgy for choosing our establishments."

To which I replied:

"Ok, so YOUR vicodins might not last until April, BUT... (In case you didn't catch it, the "BUT..." is where I become just slightly more awesome.) I conserve my good drugs like you wouldn't believe. (This is one of the things where working in social services where random drug tests prevents recreational drug use, and that BLOWS, because if anyone earns the right to abuse drugs because of their work, it's we measly little social workers, but...) I still have damn near a full prescription of Lortabs from when I had my wisdom teeth pulled. I also have my migraine meds which are usually good for a healthy dose of unconsciousness... We'll make something work. While you are here, I can provide you with samples to test at your leisure... be it legal or otherwise, because I don't give a rat's pink ass.... It might make me a technical drug dealer, but A) you don't live in my state and B) you don't have kids, and C) I don't intend to collect on compensation for the drugs, so you're not going to end up a client by any stretch... Either that, or I'll see what I can do about having my mom use her magical powers to call in a prescription of some kind of pain killer or something to knock your ass out cold. Either way, this is not an issue for major concern, we can handle it.

When you mention "getting really dressed up" and walking the streets of Vegas with beverages, I feel the need to clarify how you mean "really dressed up," (I'll back the bill either way, but just so we're clear, I'm going to filibuster for my own personal amusement with mental imagery.) If you mean by "dressed up" donning a super- trashy sparkly tank top, and pants constructed at least partially from spandex, and perhaps a hat beaded in sequins to look like a flag, (which tragically, I do own) because that would go with a "the trashier the better" type of beverage (I don't drink gin by the way, but we'll figure something out, I'm sure, but I digress...) Then I might have to think about this "dressing up" prospect... I mean yeah I've got an outfit or two that I could employ, it's a matter of figuring out if we're trashing this up right, or if we're "dressing up" as in the otherwise mentioned "drinking costumes." As for the drinking costumes, YES. YES. YES. I don't have a whole lot of drinking costume-worthy attire, but even if it means we've got to make a quick run to the nick-nackery (yes it's a real place) or to the goodwill store, we're gonna make this worth our while!

As for the multiple copies of brackets, I don't know why you've never done this before... I always print off at least 3 blank copies, and make at least 2 copies of my completed brackets. That way I've got my original, copies in case the original gets damaged or shit on, (as has been known to happen in past years,) and then at least one optional bracket for the "head vs. heart" picks, better mascot, better team colors, you know, whatever the criteria are for any given year's "optional bracket." How this has managed to escape someone of your vast march madness fervor (at least equal, if not greater than my own) is just beyond me! It's a tragedy of the highest order to be sure.

The resume will NOT be sent after consuming any kind of alcohol, pending sober proof-reading I, too, see the comedy in air-typing 400,000 WPM being wildly amusing after a few proper rounds, but in the harsh light of day we might have to disable the wireless internet while working on the resume to ensure nothing gets sent in as the direct result of a colossal error in judgment. I somehow don't see "master complainer, part-time self-destruction aficionado, and genuine sports enthusiast" being great "special skills" selling points to the fine folks over at your firm*, but hey, if we're a few sheets to the wind, it might make it on there. Who knows...

As for your assessment that the only way that this trip can go awry is if we end up in jail... Umm, personally, I'm of the belief that if we end up in jail, that is a highlight and illustrates the fact that we're doing it right! (They'd have to put us in isolation though, because I would run an all-too-high risk of running into my client base down at ye olde county clink.) And hell, a police cavity search would be the most action I've seen in a LONG time, so what the hell! We're gettin' arrested! As far as bar selection goes, there are no really great bars here, (I mean there are a few greats, but they are great in all the wrong ways,) so we really can't miss by using whatever selection available to our alcohol-limited faculties.

This trip keeps getting better and better in my mind. We're going to have to live up to some pretty high standards, so you better bring your A-game, Admiral"

As I've gotten more and more inebriated during the composition of this post, I've become less and less able to judge the merits of this post, and the e-mails, but you are smart, so you get the gist of the e-mails....

(*anything delivered in italics is subject to substitution to changes)

Meh... Welcome to my life, drunken or otherwise...

ACK...

Ok, so I'm trying to figure out a little something of moderate importance.

I'm trying to figure out how much money to set aside for my upcoming trip to Vegas.

Here's the thing. I will be going with my cousin. He will be financing pretty much everything aside from my gambling and my plane ticket. I'm not a big gambler, and the plane ticket is not really an issue. But I've never been to Vegas, and I have no idea how much money I should earmark for this little adventure. It's just a long weekend. Nothing too crazy.

Like I said, I'm not a huge gambler, and I'm ok with finding other entertainment, and playing the nickel slots or whatever.

So any thoughts?

It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything. - Tyler Durden in Chuck Palahniuk's masterpiece, "Fight Club"

Ok... So. I've hemmed and hawed for a good long while about this. And I've decided that I am just going to come out with my dirty little secret.

Point blank: I HATE my job. I hate it with an ocean of contempt and the fire of a thousand suns. I'm only keeping it at the moment so that I have money coming in until my lease runs out in a month or so, and I am free to move again. (My long stint of unemployment did firmly solidify that one should do everything in one's power to keep the money coming in until alternative sources of income are located... Anyway...) I have told no one from work about this site, and I feel pretty safe in saying that nobody from my office has bothered to do enough searching on my boring ass to find it on their own, so in addition to baring my soul here, I'm just owning my disgruntled worker status and wearing it proudly for all the world to see. And let me tell you that owning it the way I've decided to do is more than a little liberating.

(On a related note, you all WILL get the benefit of my horror stories once I am no longer under any kind of contractual obligation to maintain my silence about the horrors of my work... So just be patient.)

I will preface the remainder of this post by indicating that my partner in crime, and former college roommate Kirsten will be coming to visit me in a couple of weeks. And with my excitement for her visit, and my contempt for my job, I lovingly crafted the following e-mail to Kirsten who is very much aware of the situation.

"Ok, so here I am, working. Which roughly translates to me being a miserable sonofabitch. We know this... It's pretty well a given. What are also given are fantasies about some kind of great dinner looming on the horizon after the conclusion of a visit which seems to stretch into perpetuity when one has an empty stomach. (Hopefully that dinner includes something with BBQ or bacon in the title of at least one item.) There are also the equally if not more prominent fantasies about a life which doesn't so closely resemble a colossal diarrhea fountain, or what translates to a pretty much life-long continual bout with a serious case of the herp, or anal warts... Neither of which are actual problems of mine, but god does have a sense of humor, so it's really just a matter of time before my naughty bits are burning. But I digress.

The fact is that while I was dreaming of a better life, I naturally thought of your impending trip to [city of residence redacted.] And then someone in one of my visits asked a fairly mundane question about one of my favorite topics-- The all-encompassing glory that is the NCAA men's b-ball tournament. And after our conversation the other night, I was naturally operating on a piqued interest. And wouldn't you know that Friday the 21st of March, (also known as the day of your arrival) is OPENING DAY OF THE TOURNAMENT! I mean I knew the timing was close, but I didn't know it was quite this perfect!

I don't think I've ever been so excited in a supervised visit! EVER. And certainly not lately! I think I actually got a big creepy grin on my face, because when one of the people in the visit asked what was going on, I just noted that I was really excited about something, and that I was in fact so excited that I think a little bit of pee came out... (Yeah, I actually said that to a client... Because I currently have so little regard for this job.)

Speaking of little regard for my job, the company founder was delivering a speech during this morning's weekly staff meeting, and he was talking about how we have to drive all over hell's half acre, and how this job is tough enough as it is, and we shouldn't have to stress about the time to get from A-to-B ... Yada, yada, yada... And at the conclusion, he asked if anyone had any questions, comments, or observations... Being emboldened by my current desire to get shit canned so that I can collect unemployment and take advantage of the system like my clients do, I raised my hand. I definitely had something to say... Basically, I felt a strong and sudden NEED to call out the boss in front of the WHOLE staff. (And we're not a small agency.) I noted that yeah, we do have to drive all over hell's half acre to do this goddamn job. And that doesn't come cheap when gas is $3.20 a gallon. So then I asked if they were planning to help us out with that cost at all. My question was met with a look of shock from the good doctor, and a round of applause from the gallery. I have since heard my praises sung by many of my fellow underlings who share in my frustrations... It wouldn't surprise me if the bosses were plotting my doom. Either way... I'm operating on the Chuck Palanhniuk/ Fight Club philosophy that losing all hope is freedom... I mean there is no hope for improvement, so might as well use the freedom to vocalize what everyone else is thinking. (I mean might as well let everyone out there see just how awesome I am, even if I'm not going to stick around!)

Just thought I would share that bit of info."

Seriously. That is where I'm at right now. And considering I just had my taxes done and found out that I'm getting fucked over by the boss yet again, monthly reports are due tomorrow, and I had to work on my goddamn day off, my disposition is not improving... Basically I'm in that "Fight Club" phase where "Jack" is still at work, but that anarchist seed has been planted, and it starts to show around the office. It's really only a matter of time before I stage a fake fight with the boss in order to get a tasty settlement out of it... Or something.

Here endeth the most honest post I've composed in quite some time.

Death warmed over...

I apologize for my shittiness as a blogger lately. You might as well lump me in with all the recent quitters, and those emo kids!

I'd have something more interesting for you otherwise, but the fact is that I think I caught the plague or something. Seriously, I feel like death warmed over, and it hurts to move. This might be that nasty flu bug that everyone is going on about, but I don't know anything for sure. I mean I'm not seeing purple spots in my bathtub or anything, but I only started feeling crummy tonight, so there's still time for non-narcotic hallucinations!

Think of me, and if you pray, please talk to that god of yours and beg him to make it easy on me, either by letting this ailment run its course in a hurry, or by letting me die quickly rather than suffering for an extended time.

It's 10 PM and I'm going to bed, and considering I don't think I've gone to bed at 10 since I was 11 years old, I think we all know how miserable I am!

UGH!