This is your post. (Updated)

SarahReznor writes:
I'm with summer - I want a getting drunk at Christmas story! What? That's not what she said?

I'm not sure that I have a real "drunk at Christmas" story... I think the best I can do is to give you the basic details of a Christmas pub crawl in which I participated.

The 12 bars of Christmas... I heard about it through some friends. The idea behind it was to pay the up front fee, have food and drinks provided at each of the establishments, and to bring a box of cereal. Some of you are probably thinking that the cereal was to donate to some food bank or something similarly "giving in the spirit of Christmas"... Huh, no. The cereal was for we drunk asses to nibble on between the bars. It was lovely. The conversational highlights from that particular evening escape me now, but I do know that at one point it became my mission to try all the different cereals present. I think that was the alcohol talking... But a good time was had by all.

Loni writes:
if you could be in ANY band at ANY time, which would it be? What instrument would you be rockin out? or would you be the lead singer/tambourine girl? and don't worry, if you choose to answer, I won't psychoanalyze the shit out of it. I hate Freud.

Hmmm... Any band. Any time... With options that broad and all-inclusive, I'd say I'd probably want to be a Beatle. If we're not taking into account the untimely end and the whole Yoko Ono DISASTER, I'd want to be John Lennon. I mean really, the music was mainstream while still being revolutionary. And if I were Lennon I'd have made the call that the Beatles were more important than that hussy Yoko! (That bitch!)

Brenda Love wants to know: I really really want to know what the Lizzle thinks of Suri Cruise....In detail!

Ok. For as much as I joke about conspiracy theories and all, having seen photographic evidence that there is in fact a baby, I'm going to go ahead and concede the point. Heavily photoshopped or not, I think the baby is theirs. But I think that all the conspiracy theories do have some kind of basis because Tom is so whacked. I think that while the baby is real, the relationship is not. It's too all-or-nothing for me. It's all grand gestures when the cameras are rolling, and little or nothing otherwise, and that smells a little fishy to me. I'm of the opinion that while the baby is really genetically their baby, that it was most likely conceived with a turkey baster. I also think that little Suri (with the fringe on top... Literally) is going to have a sad life. She's gonna be trapped in the life of scientology-induced-weirdness, and I have the feeling that she's going to have trouble finding herself and end up in some kind of rehab. I don't have any franchise on this as truth, but that's my take.

Jay queries: Successors to the throne of "Crazy foreign guy with animals" now that dear Steve Irwin has moved on. But I understand if it's too soon for this one.

Of all the crazy animal guys, I can only think of three right now that have any chance at stepping up the game to try to be that guy. Two of those guys aren't foreign. One of them has been around forever without ever achieving "Crikey-like" fame levels, and the foreign guy, well I don't know what the hell his name is.

Ok so for the domestic Steves, I'm thinking either Jack Hannah, or Jeff Corwin... I'm thinking Corwin really has the youth advantage and the potential to step up the game.

If we've gotta go foreign, the only guy I can really think of is that kooky red-headed Irishman who goes out and harasses anacondas in India and similar places where anacondas hang out. But like I said, I don't even know what the hell his name is, so I'm not putting my money on him.

Dream job/vacation/meal?

HMMMM... Dream job. Ideally I'd like to make a living in a creative field. I would love to sustain myself as an artist, but seeing as there is little appreciation for most things artistic in this day and age and I don't have some kind of trust fund or patronage to live off of, I don't see me following my bliss any time soon.

Dream vacation - I already got to travel to Europe. And though I would love to see the rest of the world at some point, I think my dream vacation would involve going back to Europe with my favorite people. I would love to go back and tour Italy and Greece again and take a cruise through the Greek islands with people like my mom and Anthony because while I have been there, and I've seen it before, I would want to go with them and experience it with them, seeing it and experiencing it through their new eyes. The great part about touring in Europe is that not only can you do some serious shopping and live the high life in the beautiful cities, you can also do some hiking in the hills and the ruins, and you can lounge on the beaches too. It's all there!

Dream meal - I don't know. There is a lot of food out there that I've never tried, so I can't really factor those choices into what I think a dream meal consists of. So I'd say that I would want to just re-create the best meal I've ever had, which was a 5 course tour of delights that we had while I was in Europe the first time around. It started off with a lovely bruschetta, some wine, and I am pretty sure there was a prosciutto with melon, there was a cheese course, the single most incredible pasta dish that I've ever had in my entire life, and tiramisu for dessert... Simply magnificent!


Planeswalker inquires:

How about the first crush you ever had that you actually acted on?

Umm, I believe it was 7th grade, his name was Clayton, and it just so happened to be a mutual crush. We met at one of those little middle school mixer dances, we slow danced, we sat in metal folding chairs and chatted. We held hands. We were an item for probably three weeks... maybe a month, (and again during my freshman year of high school briefly.) Yeah, that's really the long & short of it.

And Kimberlina keeps me real with her question:

Who's your favorite sister?

Kim, if you have to ask who my favorite sister is, then you apparently don't know me very well. And so I'm not going to dignify that question with response.

Ha! Just kidding. What word, more than any other word, do you think describes you as a person?

Damn... one word. That really kind of limits the field. There isn't a real opportunity to kind of temper one word with another. So I'll just do what I do and make my one word "Genuine."

What you see is what you get with me.

And there you have it. Anything else? Let me know. I'll keep going!

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UPDATE -

Deb wants to know: Hey Lizzle, I didn't realize that we were asking questions. So here's mine... What would be your perfect date?

Well Deb, at this point I'm thrilled to have a date period... I'm not holding my breath for a "perfect" date any time soon. That said, I think it has more to do with the guy than the activity. Ok, so we're pretending that I've found some really great guy. This in itself is something of a stretch. So we're assuming that the chemistry is there, and that he can conversationally keep pace. As for the date itself, I've gotta say that while I don't mind a guy who uses the fail safe classic date, I love a guy who thinks outside the box. I would love it if a guy took me horseback riding or something. The zoo is what I'd consider a safe date, but when I've gone on the zoo date, I've generally had a pretty good time. Maybe a trip to the planetarium or a picnic on the beach. Despite all my jaded missives, I really am a hopeless romantic. And homegirl loves it when a guy who is date worthy knows how to throw in a little romance. Doesn't have to be expensive, I'd just like to see that he put a little thought into it.


And SarahReznor issued this statement and query:

this is awesome - it's like the best post ever! i loved it.

Sarah, you are way too easily amused... but I'm glad I can make you happy with such a minimal effort.

i got another couple for you - what's the best gift you ever got? and what's the best gift you've ever given?

Best gift I've ever gotten... Hmm... I would have to say that the best gift I've ever gotten would be a gift that I got without any special occasion. My mom took me to the art supply store and she bought me a set of sable brushes, (EXTREMELY EXPENSIVE,) some paints, and canvases. I think it was the best gift I've ever gotten because it wasn't expected, it wasn't a special occasion, and it was a gift that was supportive of something that I love doing.

The best gift I've ever given, well that's a bit tougher. Other people might have a different opinion of the gifts I've given, but the one that really stands out as a great gift was a painting that I gave to my cousin. She had a baby that was diagnosed with a fatal birth defect. The baby was not expected to make it to term, but she did, and actually survived 8 weeks. Knowing about the defect in advance, I had an opportunity to think about a way that I could do something. I know that given the gravity of the situation it might not have seemed like much, but I painted a pink rose (the flowers that were used at the baby's funeral) on a multi-colored pastel background, and an inspirational quote. I think it was probably the most thought and labor intensive gift I've ever given, and so I think that makes it the best. (It was also probably my best work to date.)

Nothing new to report... (UPDATED)

Yeah, there isn't a damn thing going on here. I don't want to bore you with the same old run of the mill report, and normally I'd bust out one of my more amusing older stories, but I can't think of a good one right now.

So I'm passing the buck here. Right now it's up to you. What do you want to read about? Give me a topic, ANY TOPIC! (odds are pretty damn good I've got something for you!) You got a question? Give me a question!

I've got old roommate stories, but those are way too involved to get into right now.

So have at it sluts!

I'm at your mercy.

Be kind!

====================================================

For the record these aren't wildly entertaining stories, but rather the boring reality of my "landmark" days... Personally I prefer my landmark days to start out as unremarkable occasions that become more incredible because of the events you create. I find that the more planning that is involved is the direct inverse of the fun level. But here goes nothin'!
Summer asked -

How about the first place you drove to with friends in the car?

I don't remember the answer to this one. I got my license before any of those limiting types of laws went into effect. We were allowed to have friends in the car right away. If I had to guess.... Hmm, I got my license in December so I probably drove some friends to the mall for some Christmas shopping.

Your first date, real date. Dinner would be a good place to start. Did he pay? Did you give'em an awkward, teenage smooch?

Hmm... First date... That would have been a boy we'll call "Brian." Brian and I met through some mutual friends. After seeing each other at a few social events and at the homes of our mutual friends we decided we wanted to see each other on a more individual basis. We met up at a friend's house because it was before I had a license, and after a short time we left together. We went to a little Chinese restaurant and from what I can recall we had a lovely time. I think we went an playe putt putt, or something equally lame, but hey we were in high school, give us a break! He paid for everything. Or more accurately I guess I should say that HIS PARENTS paid for everything, because I know he didn't have a job. And I know I felt like an ass because I did have a job and he wouldn't let me throw in. But it was all very sweet. There was a kiss at the end of it, though it wasn't the first for either of us, so it wasn't as awkward as you might imagine. (Yeah, I had my first kiss before I had my first date! SHUT UP!) We talked on the phone for probably a week or two after that, and then we found some very grown up reason to stop talking to each other... and well, that was that! That's pretty much my whole first little pseudo- relationship in a nutshell. And there hasn't been much of interest to report in my dating life since then!

The day you graduated highschool/college.

The day I graduated from high school I remember my mom made me eat breakfast... Though I don't know why it was so important that day because I never ate breakfast. The graduation was down at the civic center, so we went there ahead of time (as graduates are often required to do) we got situated, alphabetized, and all cap-&-gowned. We walked down the aisle, and three of the nerdiest, most socially clueless kids in my graduating class gave their speeches. I can remember thinking that the speeches the year of my brother's grauation and the year immediately preceeding my own were FARRRRR superior to all three speeches that I was treated to. After graduation was over we graduates all filed outside and I was approached by a rather sleazy girl who had umm... been "friends" with my older brother. She said something to the effect that she would miss me, though I don't know why because we were not friends. And then her grandmother approached me and said something that indicated that she felt that her grand daughter and my brother were "meant to be" and that time would tell how their love would play out... Mind you that this is on MY graduation day, and that at the time my brother was in a long term relationship with a different girl who he'd been seeing for over a year and a half at the time... Yeah, that family is a little sick in the head.
My family then tracked me down in the crowd of graduates and we all went to dinner at a local steak house... Which seemed a little ironic to me because I haven't eaten steak, or any red meat for that matter, since I was a sophomore in high school.

College graduation I posted about back when I graduated. (Check around the 21st.)

Christmas, as a child, at your parents. (Hey, maybe it will get everyone to accept that fall is coming!)

I'm not posting anything about Christmas because that would mean that I would have to accept that fall is here and that winter is on the way. Sorry.

First time you remember getting drunk and what funny things you might have done.

Hmmmmm... The first time I got drunk I was probably in 8th grade. I spent the night at my friend Karie's house. Her parents were the wealthy socialite types, and they were off gallivanting somewhere else. And as any self-respecting absentee socialite parents would, they of course had a very well stocked liquor cabinet. 4 or 5 screwdrivers later, well... let's just say that we found the TNT James Bond marathon way more amusing than it was in reality. I do believe there was some foosball and dancing wildly to whatever music was handy at the time...Then of course we had chocolate chip pancakes the next morning. It was lovely.

UPDATE

As much as I might have planned to accomplish on my Labor Day, I didn't do a damn thing. I took a nice big nap, if that qualifies as doing something... But that sink full of dishes, and the laundry packed in the hamper, well, they are still there, MOCKING ME.

Bastards.

That is all.

Good day.

If you see this man...

Attention readers: If you should ever find yourself in the company of this man, which would likely only occur if you also find yourself in Chicago, TURN AND RUN THE OTHER WAY! Under no circumstances should you ever engage him in conversation. (Unless of course you are REALLY wanting your brain to hemorrhage, and you want grey matter to come spewing out of your ear.)

His name is Hans Seigfried, and he is a philosophy professor. And as someone who once took his class, I can vouch for the fact that he falls neatly in the category marked "criminally insane."

His distinguishable characteristics include:

• Speaks with an Austrian accent so thick that you will wonder when you actually moved to Austria. (Understanding Arnold Schwarzenegger will suddenly seem like a cake walk through the magical lollipop forest.)
• Has a creepy little beard like his fellow countryman Sigmund Freud.
• Is incredibly sexist.
• Will devour your soul if given the opportunity.
  
• Is only slightly taller than the average hobbit.
• As a professor of philosophy, and author of the book he teaches from, not only are his theories incredibly intricate and enigmaticly hard to dissect, they are taught in the aforementioned thick Austrian accent. Learning is futile, and bullshitting to make up for the things you are not learning is damn near impossible.

I only mention this for your safety and well-being. There are other former and current students out there who can attest to the truly evil and duplicitous nature of this character. And I'm pretty sure that his hobbies include kicking puppies, clubbing seals, and eating babies.

Just consider yourself warned.

Finding Religion

I don't usually get into religion here. It's not something that I think should be a public ordeal. I think that it's better to be humble in your faith. I also don't want to get into religious debates with anyone, because we live in a free country, and you can believe what you want, and so can I.

It's Sunday, generally regarded as a day for religious observation, so this fits...

That said, I'm a Catholic girl. Born & raised... Even went to a Catholic university. Go fig.

This post is more about my recent ordeal and how it pertains to my religion, so if it doesn't interest you, feel free to skip it. You've been warned. Don't get pissy about this with me later!

I know I've heard it said more than once that there are a lot of people out there who don't believe in God until they are faced with difficulty. Well, I have believed all along, and that doesn't lessen the difficulty in everyday life, I assure you... Well it does, but in an indirect way... We won't get into all that. I think it's a subtlety of one's own faith that goes into that distinction.

I am not incredibly zealous in my beliefs, but I do attend masses regularly, and I know the basic tennets of my religion, if only because I have had them drilled into me by my educators for the last 16+ years.

I know that there is an entire book of the bible dedicated to one man's faith in the face of difficulty. (Book of Job) Appropriate that the guy's name happens to coincide with my current difficulties, eh?

Now, while I am one who practices her religion, I am not what you might call a "bible-beater." I can't quote passages, and I don't sit and read my bible of an evening or anything. I do know the overall themes and the general ideas behind a few specific parts, but I think my faith is less about the words on the page which have been undoubtedly been changed (even slightly) and disseminated over the years, (historically this happens and gets worse with every translation). But like I said, my faith isn't one about the specificity of words on the page, but about my belief and faith in that higher guiding force, "god" if you will. And me and my god are buddies. We talk with some regularity... Well, I talk... And if I start hearing responses when I talk I'm seeking some serious anti-psychotic meds in a BIG hurry.

Anyway, I am having one of those crises of faith. One of those times when you really want and in fact NEED to believe, but feel a little twinge inside makes you wonder if it's really worth it. I'm trying to imagine that there is some purpose behind all the stuff I'm going through right now. I want so desperately to believe there is a reason. I've been talking to my buddy, god, and I'm just hoping that a response is in the works... For better or for worse, I like to know that my buddy is listening to me.

As it pertains to my faith, I have the distinct feeling that there is some master plan that I can't possibly see right now. (I'm still down on the trail, not above the tree line, remember?) But the humanly selfish part of me really wants to see that some kind of FORWARD progress is being made on that trail. I want to see some little patch of light on the trail ahead of me that indicates the sun is still shining up there.

I know I've probably bored you, but since you elected to read this far, I guess you should know that I talk to my buddy about you guys too. I thank god for the support and kind words you all leave me here, and that I can continue the wonderful dialogue we share every day. God seems to like you kids. Otherwise I'd be grounded (smited) and I don't think we'd be allowed to talk anymore... Fortunately my pal god is pretty benevolent and lets most of those hell-worthy things that I say on a regular basis slide.

I know I have you all thinking that I am some Jesus freak now, and so I'm just going to wrap this up and let that be it.

Ohhhh, the green eyed monster...

Yes, that title is an old school reference to one of the seven deadly sins. Envy.

Apparently there is still something about me that is ENVIABLE.

Back story: When I learned to bartend, one of the things we had to do was called the "speed drill" which consisted of making 24 specific drinks perfectly in under 7 minutes. I'm not trying to boast here, but we all know that I am something of a prodigy behind a bar. So when it came time for the people in my class to practice doing the speed drill I slacked off. I stood around, talked to Anthony. I read a magazine. You know, typical slacker behavior when you're supposed to be under the gun. And Anthony, functioning as the instructor at the time asked me, "Umm, aren't you going to practice the speed drill?"

"Nope."

"You're not going to practice at all?"

"I've been making these drinks all week. I know what I'm doing back there."

(Clearly thinking that this was stupidity and hubris talking, and not skill,)
"You know what you're doing back there? I know that the speed drill isn't scheduled until tomorrow, but you want to go ahead and run through it now? If you get it under 7 minutes I'll count it... And if you don't, we'll just call it a practice run. OK?"

"Yeah. Sure. Why not."

(It should be noted that for most people the first run-through of the speed drill usually takes somewhere between 10 and 12 minutes and they progressively get better.)

My first try. Five minutes, twelve seconds. (And like I said I had 7 minutes to do it.)

Fast forward to this past Wednesday. I was pissed off about that cancelled interview, so I went to see Anthony at the school. It happens to be speed drill practice day. Anthony demonstrates the speed drill for the students. They see what goes into the drill and are totally intimidated. Anthony mentions that on the first run through most people are in the 10-12 minute range, but that they get better and usually have it under 7 minutes by the third try or so. One student asks if anyone has ever gotten it on the first try. Anthony thinks for a second... And while he's thinking, I quietly piped in, "Yep."

Anthony remembers what transpired back when I was a student. He tells them the story. The students gaze at me with a certain new-found awe and respect. The students went home shortly thereafter. They had most of the day Thursday to practice. At the end of the day they had a few chances to do it for real. After the first timed "for real" run through, one student is particularly perturbed.

Anthony asks, "It's ok, you can try it again. You'll get it!"

Student replies, "NO! I'm just so mad. I can't believe it took me 10 minutes."

Anthony reminds her, "Don't worry about it, like I told you, most people DO take that long their first time doing it when it's timed. That's why we allow you guys to run through it a few times on the clock, because you get better."

Upset student says, "No, I know that you said that's typical, I just REALLY wanted to get it on the first try ... LIKE LIZ DID!"

Anthony, despite thinking it, didn't mention that I had done the drill in time without any practice... that I'd gone in cold because I jacked around while my fellow students were doing their practice runs. (That makes Anthony a good teacher and a good person.)

(It took the upset girl 6 tries.)

So in spite of all my faults, there are still things that make me the envy of others... And that's a nice thing to know sometimes!

"Oh sure, there'll be bad times, but that'll wake you up to the good stuff you weren't paying attention to..."

I am going to be a little sentimental here for a minute... (bear with me.)

After another day of all the crap I deal with here, constantly poring over the same details I've gone over every day for the last few months, looking for some clue as to the piece of the puzzle that I haven't been seeing, I called Anthony. Tonight his cousin was going out downtown to celebrate her birthday. For reasons we won't get into, because they are really embarrassing for other parties, I was asked to come along. And my first instinct was to turn down the offer, because as we all know I can't afford to go and spend money on overpriced liquor at the restaurants and clubs downtown. But after a few minutes I reconsidered and decided to go. We went to a fabulous latin fusion restaurant called Carnivale. And the second I hit the door, I knew I was financially over my head for the night... But I ran with it. Two raspberry mojitos later, (which were INCREDIBLE... and purchased by Anthony, because he is a spectacular friend,) I had laughed, I met some new people, and of course I got to spend some time with one of my most favorite people in the whole world. (That's Anthony in case you haven't been paying attention.)

When we parted ways with the rest of the group Anthony and I went back up to his place, and despite the fact that he had to get up to work Friday, we sat in his kitchen and had cocktails. We talked. We laughed. I cried. We laughed some more. We told each other things that only the very best of friends should know about each other. We looked at OLD pictures of him, laughed some more, and at about 3 AM I told him that he needed to go to bed and that I had to go home. He stayed on his couch, I tickled his foot to make him get up to lock the door behind me as I left, and as we hugged before I walked out the door he blew a raspberry on my shoulder in retaliation for the foot thing.

And on my way home, I smiled the most genuine smile I've had in a long time because I realized that he is one of the most incredible parts of my life right now, and I had been so focused on the crappier parts of my life that I had totally neglected looking at the good stuff.

Yeah, sure I've got problems. And to a lot of people they would seem like BIG problems. Hell, on an individual level, they ARE BIG problems. There has been many a person who has had a situation far less dire than mine and ended up taking their lives because they couldn't find that light at the end of the tunnel. But I'm working hard to focus on that light. I'm trying desperately to keep that light burning brightly.

I know that I have some good things working for me. I have a family that loves me. I have incredible friends who would do anything for me. I have every advantage that comes with living in this country. I have my health. I have the INCREDIBLY ALL IMPORTANT, (AND HIGHLY UNDERRATED) sense of humor. I have have an obscene wealth of knowledge about some of the most random dumb stuff. And I know how to perfectly mix just about every drink known to man.

There is good stuff here.

And though it is easy to get bogged down in the nasty, crappy, ugly parts of life, I'm trying to worry about that less and focus on the good more.

I recently heard a cheesy story about people hiking on some mountain trail, and how one of the hikers kept focusing on the negative parts. The difficulty of the hike. The monotony in the surroundings. And the other hiker told him to just keep going. And when they got to the end of the trail, above the tree line they looked down at the forest. They saw the grandeur of the whole thing put together. They saw the whole forest. The beauty of the whole thing was so much greater than the sum of all the ugly monotonous parts. So I figure I'm just still down on the trail... And that the grander picture has yet to be revealed, but I'm trying to stay focused. Trying to make it to the end of that trail. To gain the reward of seeing it all make some kind of sense... and to really see the proverbial forest for the trees.

(And I know I am so cheese-tastic right now, so I'm gonna leave it at that.)

What? You thought it was over?

First off, please refamilliarize yourself with this.

And then you will see what I mean when I tell you it's not over.

IT'S NEVER OVER!

I'm coming in off the ledge...

Apparently I have something about me that screams, "UHH, SHE'S NOT GONNA SAY IT DIRECTLY, BUT THIS KID NEEDS YOUR HELP OR AT LEAST AN INDICATION OF YOUR CONCERN!" I've gotten a lot of supportive words from people lately despite the fact that I don't think I've been telling them anything new. A lot of people have been calling and checking in on me "just to make sure I'm ok."

I know that I do a lot of complaining on here, and that I complain a lot about my situation whenever I talk to anyone on the phone... Largely because I don't do much of anything other than work on getting a job and get turned down for work, and therefore I have little else going on to talk about.

The thing is, I know you all get sick of hearing about it. Believe me when I tell you, I know I am sick of thinking about, working on, and talking about it. Call me fickle if you will, but when you have a solitary obsession for months on end sometimes you get the feeling that you just need a change and need something to break in a hurry... You know, before this girl breaks down and loses it completely. And after spending this much time climbing the walls, applying for jobs, going on interviews that never deliver, and feeling like everything I do is a giant waste of time, well... It's enough to drive even the sanest person a little bonkers. So what is it? Because like I said, I'm not telling anyone anything new, but I'm getting phone calls from people who are suddenly DEEPLY concerned for my well-being. (Alarmingly concerned, like part of me thinks they have some kind of suspicion that I'm on the verge of doing harm to myself or something... Which, as much as I might joke about it here, I'm really nowhere near. Trust me.) So is it something in my tone that has them all worried, or is it that they just have some kind of internal alarm that says, "Uhh, hey, given the situation she's got, I'd have lost it already, it'd probably be a good idea to check on that one..."

I mean yes, Wednesday's debacle was another kick in the teeth right when I was starting to think I could finally get a little positive energy flowing my way, but while I might be down I know I'm not out. I still have asses to kick. That horse might've kicked me while I was down, but I'm gonna stand up, dust myself off, beat that horse to death, and then send the remains to the fine folks over at Elmer's Glue factory.

I'm not going to let this shit beat me. I refuse to go back to being a grump simply because those asshats went and hired some other dumbass before they even looked at my fabulousity. I will prevail.

I'm coming in off the ledge, so break out the wine! I think it's time for a power ballad!

SON OF A...

The lizzle was all excited. She was finally getting back on that motherf*kin' horse. She was more than ready to show that stupid nag who was boss. And that goddamn piece of crap horse kicked her in the head.

Yup. About 2 hours before my scheduled interview today I got a phone call saying, don't bother putting your fancy pants on, we hired someone else. Yeah. We hired them before we ever looked at what you had to offer... Because we are asshats like that.

So basically, the lizzle can't catch a break. And it blows.

So the wind has been taken out of my sails... I feel like eating cookie dough... But I can't afford to go wasting money to buy all the crap it would take to make cookie dough, and that crap in a tube just ain't the same thing. I guess my ass will thank my poverty later.

I'm going to go visit Anthony now because this slut needs a hug.

I've got the cure...

We know I've been miserable lately. I own it. It sucks, but I own it. Believe me when I tell you all that I DO realize how painful it must be for you all to come here and read the crap I've been posting lately because of my misery. But alas, my misery is not the issue here.

The issue is THE CURE.

No, not the 80's pop band showcasing the musical stylings of Robert Smith...

THE CURE TO MY MISERY IS MUSICAL THOUGH!! (Well, the short term cure is musical, the long term cure is getting a job that doesn't make me want to hurt people.)

Anyway...

All too content to wallow lately, I've been remiss in self-medicating my misery.

Despite the fact that I haven't had work in an all too painfully long time, I've been adherent to a rather rigid schedule as though I still had to get up on Monday and work a 40 hour week. When my sleep schedule isn't all out of whack, you can bet that my stupid ass has usually been in bed around midnight and up by 9.

I came to realize that something about this is wrong.

Sure I have an interview tomorrow. Sure I'd really like to get the job. Sure I would like to go back to work for a familiar company. Sure I'd like the particular benefits that would come with this job. But the fact is that I'm not going to get it if I go in with the mental state I've been sporting lately. And so I scheduled the interview late in the afternoon. And I took some time for self-medication.

The lizzle turned on the stereo.

The lizzle opened the fridge and found a big part of the cure inside.

The lizzle walked into the bathroom, plugged the drain, and turned on the water.

The lizzle took a bubble bath with a BIG glass of wine.

The lizzle dried off and put on comfy PJs.

The lizzle, now a little buzzed, poured another big glass of wine.

The lizzle turned up the stereo.

The lizzle proceeded to rock out.

The lizzle danced like a spaz in her apartment. (For hours.)

The lizzle remembered just how much she really loves a lame-ass power ballad.

The lizzle remembered she does not know how to dance.

The lizzle remembered that she was alone in her apartment and didn't need to worry about her dance floor skill.

The lizzle sneezed 6 times.

The lizzle blew her nose.

The lizzle threw away the tissue and resumed spaz-like dancing.

The lizzle realized that there is nothing she can do to impact the outcome of her present situation beyond what she has been doing all along, and that being a miserable grump was entirely optional.

THE LIZZLE IS GETTING HER GROOVE BACK!

SHE IS RECLAIMING IT WHETHER THE WORLD LIKES IT OR NOT!

Word to your mother.

You know that poster that says "Everything I ever needed to know I learned in kindergarten"? Well, I think back when we were all in kindergarten we all had the right idea. I mean, way back when I was in kindergarten I played out in the dirt, I sang little songs, I jumped on my bed, I finger painted, I giggled at EVERYTHING, I talked endlessly to anyone who was willing to listen... and many who weren't so willing, I didn't worry about tomorrow because I was too busy enjoying today, and I spent my spare time watching fraggle rock. (My cure makes sense when you know this fact because they were the originators of the "Dance your cares away" philosophy.)

Fresh off the wire...

This morning a Chinese woman proved that America isn't the only place on earth that's full of idiots, and reinforces the age old stereotype that Asians don't know how to safely operate an automobile. Seriously, who does that?

Tired peanut...

I am a tired peanut. I don't feel like thinking of something witty for your reading pleasure. I was disappointed by the turnout for team-naming comments. (Though those who did post DELIVERED.)

And so today you get nothing.

Because I say so.

[Insert internet-based-raspberry.]

I hope you've learned your lesson.

It's fantasy football season!!!

As one who has participated in fantasy sports for a few years, (and won the league once,) I can tell you there are many decisions that need to be made long before the first game day coin toss. You need to decide what kind of league you want to join, who you want in the league with you, who you want to draft to make up your team, who are your back ups when ALL of your draft picks inevitably fall through, just to name a few... And then there's the most important decision of all.

The one decision that tells everyone else what to to expect from you all season long.

What the hell do I name my team?

The team name that you come up with indicates to your fellow league mates about YOU. If you have a lame team name it indicates to them that you are not willing to put in the time and effort involved in fantasy sports. If your team name is some stupid inside joke it indicates one of two things; either you are in a league with your friends who will probably get the joke and make fun of your retarded ass anyway, or you're a co-dependent freak who needs the approval of others on any and every decision they make so you will take 10 times longer to make any decisions... Trust me when I tell you that nobody wants to be in the league with the guy who can't make a simple decision on their own. It's one thing to consult a bunch of other people if you're trying to manufacture a trade that can only be pulled off by brokering a deal involving 10 teams so that you can get what you want and eventually you come out on top in the end. It is something else entirely to consult 32 people to see which of your running backs to bench this week. Yeah, don't be THAT GUY.

Now this is not to say that you can't consult your friends before naming your team. By all means, consult one or two of your most amusing friends. Just make sure that you collectively come up with something that everyone else in the whole of your league can at least appreciate on a surface level. Yes there are those few who stick to the basics, like something including their name, or hometown, or something equally lame... Word of advice: unless you won your league the year before and you went with a similar naming and player-draft strategy, don't do this... It's just sad to see that you're in a league with people who don't care enough to put forth the great naming effort. So make it snappy. If there's an extra little joke built in there for your own amusement, fine, but just remember that you're going to have to deal with these people all season long, so you might as well give them a laugh when they see what you decided to call your team.

Tonight my dear friend Mel was kind enough to include me in the team naming consultation. I was more than happy to help. And we came up with some DOOZIES. Most of these are Lizzle originals that I ran through with Mel, but then there were a few that didn't come along until later...

In no particular order: (For the ones that mention the Dutch, keep in mind that Mel is of Dutch descent. And let's face it, those crazy wooden-shoe-wearing Dutch folk are more than a little bit inherently funny.)

• The Dutch Oven Conspiracy
• The Team from Herpes Island
• The Team Formerly Known As The Panty Raiders
• Balloon Animals from John Wayne Gacy
• Tranny Hooker Jugband
• Sideline Pirates
• Ron Burgundy's Moustache
• Ridin' Dirty Dutch
• Amish Rake Fight
  
• Rodeo Clowns Gave Me Crabs
• Rectal Urgency
• More Cowbell
  
• Drunken Pigeon Invasion
• Spork Wielding Sea Monkeys
• Velcro Underwear
• Battery Acid Shampoo
• Tom Cruise and the Banana Hammocks
• Salmon Flavored Hampsters
• The Pregnant Nuns
• The Granny Panty Express
• Ed Gein & The Ed-skins (If you don't get this one, click this link and look under the Arrest heading.)
  
• Badonkadonk Certified Circus Performers
• French-Canadian Park Bench Lickers
• Mr. Earl and the Occasionally Accurate Knife Throwers
• Suck My Ditka (And on a side note, I'm so putting this one on a t-shirt)
• My Team Is On The Elvis Diet
• Thai Hooker Exchange
• Fat Guys in Little Coats
• Team Zack Morris
  
• Banana Slug Liberation Front
• Snakes on a Football Field
• Celebrity Neck Waddles
• Puppy Soup & The Kitten Kabobs
• Obscenely Painful Rug Burn
• The Land Sharks
• Malnourished Midget Brigade
  
• Bloody Care Bears
• Angst-Ridden Octogenarians
• Lop-Sided Camel Humps Union Local 163rd

I could give you more, but it's more fun to see what you kids can come up with when given the kind of start I've afforded you.

So here's a challenge. Come up with 5 original/creative team names and leave them in the comments! (I greatly look forward to seeing what you come up with.) Any other comments are still welcome as well.

I'm an awful person... **UPDATE**

Ok, so I had nothing special going on all weekend, and when my brain has nothing interesting to do, it makes something up...

So I got to thinking. And since we know it's in the works already, I think we need to start making casting decisions for the made-for-TV-movie about the JonBenet case, since we now have a suspect pinned down for the cursory dramatic courtroom sequence at the end.

Well, Dakota Fanning is playing JonBenet... We know that much, even though she's like 27 now, she's known for being that cute little blonde girl that everyone loves so damn much. (We all know that Paris Hilton would REALLY be trying for a casting call on this one... but I've got to draw the line somewhere!) And I always thought that John Ramsey looked a little bit like Bill O'Reilly. Though Bill O'Reilly is a jerkface, and not an actor, so John Ramsey would probably be played by someone like Victor Garber in heavy makeup. Patsy Ramsey is going to be played by ... Oh I don't fuckin know... I can't think of anyone! Someone else is going to have to do some work on this goddamn movie too, you know! Though they'll probably fuck it up and get Joan Collins or something.

I DO, however, have the PERFECT guy to play the killer... He's a guy who is used to playing the killer! And he's a close enough match to work in a TV movie... His name is Bruce Payne.

I was watching Passenger 57 this weekend, and I was a little creeped out by the resemblance.

**UPDATE** Ok, so I just saw on Cnn.com that they aren't charging this loon... So I guess we'll have to wait on casting the actual killer, but we can still cast this guy in a cameo role to give our little movie the right plot twist. I mean he REALLY does look like him!

I'm not gonna lie to you...

The lizzle has lost her damn mind.

She is about 2.5 millimeters away from biting someone's nose off.

She might not stop with the nose.

She has lost all patience with looking for a job, as well as talking about, thinking about, and in any way working on getting a damn job... But she's still plugging on.

If you want to pay me to do just about anything, you know where to find me.

I'm not above working as a hired assassin.

Word to the wise: Don't cross the lizzle right now.

Now, feel free to continue with your day.

I haven't done one of these in a while. So here we go with 13 random facts about the Lizzle:

1. I have been water skiing and snow skiing, but I've never gone snowboarding.
2. I own two t-shirts that are genuinely older than I am and a few more that are almost as old as I am... They are all favorites in my collection.

3. I have plainly stated on more than one occasion that if I ever get married, the "Electric Slide" will not, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, be played at my reception... and if someone thinks they can sneak it in, they WILL be punished.
4. I once broke another girl's nose.
5. I didn't attend my senior prom.
6. I ABSOLUTELY HATE yellow mustard. Just the smell of it grosses me out.
7. I also despise pickles... though probably not as much as this girl.
8. One year for Halloween, I dressed up as THIS! Admit it, you are now cowering in fear.
9. Of all the jewelry I wear, I feel naked if I'm not wearing a watch.
10. My favorite color is cobalt blue.
11. I am terrified of Tony Little... Don't ask me why, he just scares the bejesus outta me! (Even posting that picture link gave me the heebie jeebies.)
12. I've never been arrested, but I have been put into the back of a police cruiser.
13. I have a strange condition that causes me to occasionally break out in red splotches when I consume alcohol... Fortunately for me, it's rare, and it only lasts about half an hour from the time of my first beverage.

Here's the update...

Ok, so I don't have much of interest to report.

Still no job.

Still a miserable grump.

I know there are some of you who enjoy my comments on your blog and you are probably wondering where I've been lately. I've been around. I've read everything you've had to say, but I'm not my snappy self lately, so I've restricted my commenting to a bare minimum... I still love you, and I'm still reading your stuff!

I guess that's all.

Public service announcement for today.

Please click here.

Thanks.

Have a nice day.

If it weren't for blogger being blogger...

We all know that blogger is a piece of crap. We all stay because it's free. Yesterday blogger was behaving in a typically bitchy manner, and thus prompted the open letter in the post below. If that had not been the case, you'd have gotten this post yesterday... As it is, you're getting it today. I love you, but you're just going to have to deal.

(If you don't get the joke on this shirt, you don't belong here.)

It was a big weekend. As you all know, Snakes on a Plane came out on Friday, but Friday was special for another reason. It was my momma's birthday. (Once again, happy birthday momma!) So in addition to Samuel L. Jackson kicking a little airborne reptile ass, and momma getting another year older, this weekend was also the big weekend for my oldest sister who competed in her first-ever triathalon!


I don't know where she is in that one up there... I think she's the one wearing the yellow swim cap. (Yeah, I know, I'm THAT jerk.)


She's the hot slut in the black shorts and lime green tank top.


She had her neighbor french braid some pigtails for the big race "because they look fast" and they definitely cut down on wind resistance. (Plus I think they kinda looks like snakes on her head!)

And you see, she finished! Because she is hot like that! She still finished the triathalon despite the fact that she took 10 days off to vacation in Jamaica late in her training schedule, as well as taking off for the family reunion last month... Because let's face it, you've gotta have priorities.

There is not much else to say about Monday, as I spent much of it in bed with a migraine. And looking at this damn screen ain't making things any better for me, so this is all you get. Be good my angels!

An open letter to Blogger...

Dear Blogger,

WHY YOU GOTTA BE SUCH A BITCH ALL THE TIME?

What did I ever do to you?

Sincerely,

Lizzle.

A Very Lizzle Snake Story...

Before I get this under way, I just think I should note that if I keep blogging much longer I'm going to be the most boring person that all my friends know. Why, you ask? I'll tell you. I come here pretty much every day. I post about the events of my day, my week, what have you, and if it's been a particularly boring time, I'll post one of my better stories from my past. This means that all my best stories are told here remarkably often. So when I go out of an evening, and I am in the company of those who are known readers here, (or at least known to me, because a lot of my real life friends who read this malarkey are some serious lurkers,) I have to keep in mind that those people already know my best stories before I ever open my mouth. And that's a real bitch. I mean, I'm plenty funny on a real-time, current-affairs basis, but then again I also like to pepper in some of my older material to keep people on their toes.

That said, here's a little bit of a new tale, mixed with an old Lizzle classic. Seeing as it's Snakes on a Plane weekend I think this story works really well, timing wise.

I was talking to my mom earlier this evening, and she mentioned that my cousin was watching a rain storm from the comfort of her home (which is right on a lake) and while she was watching the rains come down, she noticed what appeared to be a piece of rope or a bike tire that was in the front yard... And then she noticed that this piece of rope or bike tire was mobile. Since she has a couple of very small children in the house, and suspecting it might be a rather sizable snake, she asked her husband to go and check it out. And he asked her what he was supposed to do if it WAS a snake, kill it? To which my cousin more or less replied, "I have had it with that motherfuckin' snake in my motherfuckin' yard!" And so he hopped into some waders, and ran out into the yard equipped with an umbrella and a shovel. And as he approached, he found that not only was it a snake, it was a water moccasin, (yes, they are poisonous,) and it was angry, as evidenced by the bared fangs. And Frank is a tough guy in his own little way, so he took care of business and well, let's just say that shovel served double duty!

Hearing my mom telling this reminded me of another reptilian tale. One that we still razz her for her role in.

A long time ago, when I was just a wee little Lizzle-in-training, we lived in a very small town on a rather large property that abutted the Hoosier National Forest, and between our property and our nearest neighbor was about an acre of untended land that my brother and I regularly traversed to go play with the other neighborhood kids. (Yeah, I grew up as a yard ape, and I own it.) So one day mom rounds up my brother and me for a trip to the grocery store. I'd say I was maybe 5, and my brother was about 7. And so my mother and we two sweet, innocent babes are not twenty yards from our house, and we all see what was roughly an 8 foot black rat snake... At least we think that's what it was. All that was important was that it was HUGE, reptilian, mean looking, and sunning itself in the road in front of us.

Mom, in a full-sized sedan (either a Buick or an Oldsmobile, I can't remember which) figured that running over it would do the trick. So she rolled over that bad boy... Which only seemed to piss it off as opposed to killing it, as it kept on moving. So she rolled over it in reverse. And still, it was just upset, and not squished. So she rolled over it a couple more times with no further ill effect to the snake. So what did she do? Instead of driving ALL of us back to the house, she gets out of the car, leaving my brother and I (terrified, although in a closed car) in VERY CLOSE proximity to a very upset reptile.

So what seemed like an eternity later mom comes back, with my father in tow. Dad, seeing the angry beast runs back to the house, and comes back with-- OF ALL THINGS -- a wooden sword that my brother used to play with. At which point I'm pretty sure I remember him saying something like, "I've had it with this motherfuckin' snake in the motherfuckin' road!" And he proceeds to pummel and bludgeon the thing over the course of the next few minutes. And once he was satisfied with the beating, (though I'm not entirely sure it was actually dead, because the thing had just survived being run over 6 times, so I don't know that a blunt wooden sword was all that menacing,) he used the end of the sword to scoop it up and fling it into that untended plot I mentioned... Yeah, the same plot of tall grass that we small children crossed on a regular basis. I'm pretty sure that it was only a coincidence that our neighbor Adolph was bitten by a snake a week or two later while tending his garden which was also in very close proximity to that field. Yeah... Probably wasn't the same snake, because dad beat the crap out of it with a blunt wooden sword.

So mom gets credit for traumatizing us by leaving us to fend for ourselves so that she could go get dad, who only flung the snake into territory commonly used for childhood play. But she's still the best damn momma around, and if you wanna fight me on that statement, I will shank you. Have no doubt about it.

Yeah, that's it. You disappointed that's all? You wanna throw down? I'm not afraid to put a $300 snake skin shoe up your ass! C'mon! Because I've had it with these motherfuckin' bitches who don't appreciate my motherfuckin' snake stories!!

Summer blues...

It's no secret that I'm a miserable piece of crap lately... and therefore this post is not required reading. For those of you willing to brave it anyway, please accept my apologies in advance.

I'm having a tough time of it lately. The unemployment misery is just the tip of the rather sizable iceberg.

And right about now that iceberg is punching holes all down the side of my boat... I'm trying to bail out the rising water but I don't know how much longer I can keep it afloat.

I was talking to someone on the phone this evening, and just burst into tears for no particular reason. This is a very big deal, because I'm not a crier. NOT AT ALL. And while it shouldn't have been that big of a deal, aside from just being kind of shitty, I think being stood up last night just kind of tipped the scales.

And it's not as though I had any grand designs on the evening, I just wanted to see my friend one last time before he left because, seeing as this is a big move, I don't know when I'll ever see him again. It hurt me that he felt like he could tell me that he was going to see me on his last night in town and not show.

I've tread that ground before with this particular friend. In fact, in the years that I've known him this has been a pretty standard behavioral pattern. While talking to another of my friends this evening, I mentioned this, and how I was kind of bewildered as to why this behavior was something that I have tolerated and repeatedly forgiven over the course of our friendship. She put it so simply and yet so brilliantly. She said that we all have that one person who pulls that kind of crap who we just can't help always forgiving, and he's mine. Part of me really hates that I put up with that kind of behavior in anyone, but then I guess that's the price I pay for occasionally wearing that shirt where my heart is pinned on the sleeve... I'm starting to think maybe I need to burn that fucking shirt.

The part that really breaks my heart is that just before he left he and I had the following exchange:

Me: "In spite of everything, I'm going to miss you."
Him: "I'm grateful to hear that because I was starting to get the feeling that nobody was going to miss me. Thanks for saying so."
Me: "You're welcome. Even if you never show up, you're always welcome."

He made no effort at a response to that. And now he's in Manhattan.

I know that I have bigger problems than this, and that it seems like a stupid thing to focus my attention on, or waste another minute thinking about it but this was just the one thing that really opened the flood gates and let everything else loose. And like that one wrong step that puts you in the path of destruction, it's just that one little thing that you just can't stop thinking about.

I know that this is just a periodic slump, and a series of crummy events that just happen to be packaged together, and that soon enough I'll be back on top, laughing and boozing like this never happened, but this is just one of those times when it's REALLY REALLY difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

In an effort to turn things around, I'm pouring a BIG glass of wine and watching The Goonies!

I don't even know what to say...

I was going about my business on Thursday, not knowing that anything had changed... Apparently I was wrong.

I contacted one of my friends via instant messenger, and he informed me that he was rather suddenly recruited to work a job, and that in order to work it, he has to move to New York in order to do it. He notes that he had to move tomorrow.

I am BEYOND shocked by this.

Seeing as this is one of my friends, and knowing that I will miss him a great deal, I offered to help him pack his belongings. He told me no, that after he'd finished packing that he would come down to my place, drink, pass out, and then leave in the morning.

That was fine by me. He was supposed to come down at about 2, and so I went and waited for him to show at the train. (I didn't take my phone, because I assumed he was on his way.)

After waiting a little over 30 minutes, I walk home and find that he'd called several times trying to see if I was still conscious... I called him back to see why he wasn't already on the train, and to find out where the hell he was now, and he said since I didn't answer my phone he wasn't sure I was still up and that he was headed for the train now...

Skip ahead to an hour later...

No call, no text message, no show...

That's right. It's his last night in town, he tells me he's done packing and that he's coming to visit and...

wait for it...

and he stood me up.

Yep. He stood me up.

I love him to pieces, and he told me he was on his way, and he's a no-show.

All I can really say to myself is that I should've known better.

Men suck.

I wish I didn't like the men so much!

It would make life so much easier!

QOTD

I'm gonna go fart in my bed so I can dutch oven myself. - Anon.

Excuse me, is this the lost & found?

I lost my patience for the job hunt ages ago. And now? I'm pretty sure I've lost the vast majority of my sanity as well.

I need to find some way to vent my frustration, and regain some level of normalcy. I need to get the hell out of my apartment! (I'm so sick of the sight of this place, it's not even funny!)

I have nothing fun to tell you. So I will do nothing more than give you a movie recommendation.

If you haven't already seen it, you need to RUN (don't walk, RUN) and locate a copy of a 1999 piece of cinematic GENIUS known as Mystery Men.

When it initially came out, it was panned by critics, but that's ok, because it's not the type of movie you're going to go see on the recommendation of a critic. (MMMMISHY, I expect a full review on this ASAP.)

I'm not kidding, this was one of those underrated, overlooked pieces of COMEDY GOLD. I didn't even learn about it until 2 years after its initial release when it was quoted by the lovely Kirsten. The quotes were so great that I inquired as to their origin, and well, it was all downhill from there.

The connection between my original line of thought, and my movie recommendation is that without my patience and sanity, I feel like I'm rapidly turning into Mr. Furious... And the rage is taking over!

If you don't believe me about this movie, go here and check out the memorable quotes... If my recommendation, a few of the memorable quotes, and the fact that the villain was named Casanova Frankenstein won't convince you to go out and spend the 99 cents it would cost to rent this classic, nothing will!

For once, just trust me!

I never do QOTDs anymore...

QOTD conversation with Harsh:

[Harsh's phone rings]
Harsh: OOOH, it's Horsie!
Liz: Horsie? Who do you call Horsie?
Harsh: My ex-girlfriend.
Liz: You call your ex-girlfriend HORSIE?
Harsh: Uh, yeah.
Liz: Why, may I ask, do you call her Horsie?
Harsh: Because she's good looking... And I think horsies are pretty.

[Later]

Harsh: You know, horsie sometimes gets mad at me. She gets worried that I equate her to such a large animal... And she would yell at me, and then I would have to tell her that's why she's a horsie and not a pony.
Liz: How do you mean?
Harsh: Ponies can't yell as loud as horsies... It's a scientific fact, horsies just yell louder than ponies! Look it up!

I blame Marcia...

The pink one herself posted about attending a wedding, and of course I read it, as I can't afford to do much else other than read blogs and apply for jobs. And then I talked to Marcia about weddings... And then I ended up looking at wedding dresses online.

Those of you who know me personally know how utterly ridiculous this is. It's ridiculous for the following reasons:

• I am not in a relationship that is even remotely near generating a proposal... Actually, I'm not technically in a relationship at all.
• I have never been in a relationship that was ever close to generating a proposal.
• I am not now, nor have I ever been that girl who has been planning her wedding since the age of six.
• I have not even attended a wedding in 4 years. (I am aware that this is a freakishly long time for someone my age to go without attending a wedding, and this doesn't at all mean that I don't know plenty of people who have gotten married, but let's not get into any of that... I'll only end up sounding bitter.)
  

The only reason I have even THOUGHT the word "wedding" at any point in the time since I was last in attendance at one is because my sister got engaged this spring. And I'm looking at wedding dresses? I might as well be lookin to purchase a baby koala, because my need for a baby koala is currently the rough equivalent to my need for a wedding dress! Don't mind me. I'll find another reason to have a big party with an open bar... And I won't need a damn poofy white dress to do it!

(But secretly, I really do want that damn poofy white dress.)

GROSS...

Looking for a job all weekend is gross. Not going out at all because you know the balance of your bank account won't allow it is gross. Paying bills is gross.

And while we're on the subject of gross, does anyone else have this problem? (Ladies, I'm looking at you here.) You put your hair in a high ponytail or something, and leave it up all day, and when you go to take it down your hair hurts? (Ok, I know it's actually your scalp that's hurting, but work with me here...) I've noticed that on the extremely rare ocassion that I go longer than 24 hours without showering it is even more unpleasant than the standard hair pain. And I don't want to hypothesize about why that is, because that's getting into a whole other realm of gross.

Let's not even get into the fact that my sleep cycle is all wonky again and that for me getting to sleep by 4 AM is "doing pretty good." Keep in mind that it's 4:46 AM right now, and I'm not even tired... (THIS IS GROSS!)

Seriously, the only fun things that I did this weekend were cook, and talk to Debbie on Saturday night. And for the record, she is every bit as delightful as you would imagine. But then again, I am totally biased because I have long insisted that she and I were kindered spirits, and that means that we kind of have an unspoken inherent understanding of one another.

And that's really all I have to report. I'm a boring, miserable, unemployed jerkface. I hope things are going better for you all than they are for me... Or that you at least had a more eventful weekend!

Don't you just LOVE the internet...

I know that I've said this before, but back when Al Gore invented the internet, and dreamed of all the places it would go, and all the people it would bring together, I'm sure that this was exactly what he had in mind!



And if you're going to tell me that you just watched that and you didn't laugh, I'm going to tell you to leave! No, seriously. Click that little red X up in the corner there, because clearly you don't know comedy.

The Beach and Liquor, A Match Made in Heaven...

Way back when I was in Greece, back before the turbulent times filled with crazy (and by crazy, I mean psychotic/bonkers-crazy, not fun/wildly-amusing-crazy) roommates, genuine worry over what my life was to become, and LONG before I joined the faceless masses of the "real world" which has since proceeded to drain my soul of all that was once good and pure... But I digress. Back when I was Greece, mere days after I finished high school, I discovered the joys of mixing the beach and booze. After touring the neighboring countries for a few weeks, we landed in a tiny little hotel, nestled on the far northwest edge of a small tourist-y village known as Tolo, which is nestled in a little bay on the Agean Sea.


Tolo being a tiny little town, we could easily walk the few blocks to the one little night club or any number of adorable little shops that lined the streets, but those of us who were smart took a different approach. (Please refer to this very loose aerial view of our location as a handy visual aid for your consideration.)


We had a customarily late dinner at the hotel, (the turquoise rectangle,) and as the sun went down we called our parents from the international pay phone, (the red dot,) and after the sun set we walked across the street to the little cafe, (the maroon rectangle) that just so happened to be open particularly late... I think it stayed open largely because the owner saw that we were migrating to the cafe to purchase alcoholic beverages to be consumed on the beach repeatedly over a stretch of many hours, and that staying open was in his best financial interest... As was his choice to fire up the oven and sell pizzas to our drunk asses at the end of the night... but you see where this is going... (See all those little black dots? That's us! We're drinking, and bull-shitting, and having a grand time!) Those green dots are two VILE Armenian guys with appallingly bad oral hygiene who repeatedly propositioned every female in our little group, asking us if we would like some "company." But it was there, on that beach, at the tender age of 18 that I learned the joys of mixing a perfect night on the beach with alcohol to turn everything from picture perfect to GODDAMN SPECTACULAR. (Go easy on me for not figuring this out before the age of 18... I grew up in southern Indiana where there are no REAL beaches.)



And this evening was a different kind of goddamn spectacular. I had only one or two cocktails around happy hour, and as the sun went down I decided to venture to my own little piece of heaven in the sand. I strolled along the shoreline in the 75 degree perfection of the evening, enjoying the strong breeze blowing in off the lake, and the sounds of the waves crashing and rolling in, and it was, in a word, exquisite... Transcendently exquisite.

After the sun set over the city, and the last of the sunlit penumbra began to fade to that deep blue, I sauntered home, and fixed myself an iced cafe au lait and reflected on things. It's been a lovely night. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go flip through my photo album of that European vacation and reminisce about simpler times.

The day the blogging died...

This is a public service announcement courtesy of the happy hour:

It's time to get serious my children.

It's a sad sad day in blogger land.

As I made my rounds, reading my usual daily fare, I came across a post that deeply saddened me.

Our darling KellyNellyNelloWhatever is packing it in. That's right. If you haven't already seen it for yourself, please take a moment to venture over and see for yourself.

After a period of cowering in the corner of my apartment, moaning gutterally, and begging the good lord for a reason why he would see fit to curse me with this on top of my employment (or complete lack thereof) misery, I regained a little bit of perspective... Perhaps to make up for the little bit of dignity I left over in the corner.

My new-found perspective told me that I was being selfish. I'm sure that Kelly has a very good reason for giving up on her pursuit of internet celebrity, and her achievement of general awesomeness. I'm sure that there's been some serious thought behind such a big decision. I can't imagine what her reasoning might be, but knowing Kelly, it's relatively rational and thought out.

Having been a so-so blogger with the occasional decent day of material for over two years now, I can tell you that there have been times when I'd go through a funk, and think about calling it quits, but after a couple of days, I always came to the conclusion that I would miss it, and that I liked the idea of writing for an audience that was comprised of folks who I knew, and many that I don't... It made me feel like people outside my immediate circle of friends and family actually gave a damn about what I did, which was kind of strange, and more than a little bit of a pleasant surprise. And during that two years, I'm sure that I've pissed a few people off, (my life is a daily excercise in pissing off all the wrong people, and occasionally apologizing to the few right ones that I upset, but that's beside the point,) and I'm sure that there have been stretches that have undoubtedly reduced you to streaming tears of boredom... But I try to redeem myself when I know I've been cruel to you like that, and most of the time I try to keep you vaguely entertained, (which is only slightly different from how I approach my days, in that I am only trying to keep myself vaguely entertained).

But back to the matter at hand.

Please Nello, make this a hiatus, a sabatical if you will. Even if it's an extended one! We just want to know that one day you'll come back to us, and that things will be like they used to be. We need that kind of order restored to the world, and we will miss you while you are gone. The internet needs more people like you. Someone who is CONSISTENTLY an interesting read on a daily basis, and knows how to put together such beautiful web designs, and has adorable babies, and rarely allows me to go a day without laughter... All I can say is that while I know I will miss you, and I know many others who will as well, I will try to be supportive and to try to understand why you're giving it up, and pray for your eventual return. And if that day should ever come, we in the blogosphere will sing your praises, and you will be welcomed back to the sound of trumpets and ovations galore. (And that's just from those of us in Chicago!)

An addition to the pantheon of the greatest videos ever recorded!

I found this a couple of days ago, and meant to post about it, and totally forgot. My sister Kim pointed it back out to me today, and so now I have every intention of giving this the attention it is due.

This ranks in the pantheon of great videos... And especially high among the low-budget videos!

The only videos that I can think of that rank higher in the pantheon for me are both by Fatboy Slim. The one for "Weapon of Choice" while not low-budget, is just beyond exquisite because it stars Christopher Walken. The other great being the original video for "Praise You" (Kim, I said it was "Rockafella Skank" in the e-mail to you, and well, I was wrong... But I tracked down the one I really meant for the post!) It's the master of the low-budget videos, because you know those hot dancing bitches donated their time and considerable talents just to say they were in the video and it makes me laugh EVERY TIME I watch it!!

Anyway, back to the reason we're all here, this video of Ok Go, please, watch and enjoy!!!



I think that while I kind of have them ranked for my own personal reference, inclusion in this category is more akin to those who can say that they have scaled Everest... Nobody climbs Everest higher than anyone else has climbed it, but those who have are a distinguished group who are among a special kind of elite.

Ok, I'll stop now.

Honda is onto something!!!

Ok, I get Honda's whole, "Hey, buy our cars, because they're very good for the environment, and if you change the oil every once in a great while, they will run FOREVER" thing... Really. The point has been made!!!

When I say Honda is onto something, I guess I should be more specific, because I'm not talking about the cars. I am talking about their ads! FOR REAL!! THEIR ADS ARE BRILLIANT!

A long time ago, I posted about this ad, which is a complex Rube Goldberg design built entirely out of car parts, which is insanely cool!



And then today I found a few from the current campaign that just really got me laughing (Which is important when you're in a job-searching funk like I am!)

There's this one, featuring a crab named Gil, which is an extended version of a commercial I'd seen before...

I just really love the, "I pinch!"

And then there's this one, featuring a platypus which I hadn't seen, but laughed heartily at!



And this one featuring an opossum which I also moderately enjoyed. (Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't that opossum sound a little like Alec Baldwin in the very beginning, and a little more like Keith David there at the end... Hell, it probably really is Keith David!



And then there is this one featuring a rabbit, which I didn't find all that funny, until I considered that it is a pretty nice little tribute to Kelly and her broken foot right now! (Nello, you should've listened to the rabbit... he would've told you in advance about the between-toe chafing!)



You all probably think I'm advocating the purchase of a Honda Pilot right about now, but really I'm not. I don't like them. I think they are ugly. But if that's your bag, it's cool. We can still be friends. I just like them because they give me a little giggle!!

In an unrelated note, I want to thank you all for your support, and positive thoughts, and to beg you to keep them coming! You are all some seriously hot bitches!

Keep it real, homies!!

I hate this...

Well, I'm feeling better physically. But I'm still sick... And tired...

SICK AND TIRED OF LOOKING FOR A DAMN JOB!

I have submitted literally hundreds of resumes and well, we've seen just how far I've gotten. Seriously, I am fed up with thinking about this baloney all the time, spending my free time looking for previously untapped job resources, and dealing with everything else that goes with being out of work... Including my dwindling bank accounts. (Seriously, if this keeps up, I'm looking at moving home, and I REALLY don't want to do that.)

I don't really have much else to report. I'm bogus. I'm sorry.

PICTURE PAGES! (A Rather Delayed Edition)

Due to illness, and the fact that I know most of you sexy bitches don't stop in on weekends, I am only now getting around to posting these.

These first few shots are from my last full day at home watching my nephews. Since it was my last day, and I knew I wouldn't be back for a while, Itook Tyler to Kids World, or as he likes to call it, "Pizza Planet." (I blame Toy Story for that one.) I would like it noted that when I picked out his outfit in the morning, I knew that pictures would be taken, and that this was THE SINGLE BEST T-shirt for the day. (That's one for all you SoaP fans!!) (**Speaking of SoaP, Jay found this for us... and I have been keeping myself entertained for quite some time manufacturing phone calls to my friends.**)


I sent him to play in the tunnels, and hustled that boat load of tickets for him, so that he could get that sword he had his eye on.


Yeah, he got that sword...

So now he is officially the super hero known as "Captain Underpants!"


Well upon my arrival home, I knew that I'd have to do everything I could to nurse myself back to health so that I could attend the annual flower slingin' barbecue... It's always a drunken good time with really good food! (Special thanks to Christine who hosts the event every year!)


Kristi isn't so sure about something...


Nate was there, but he cut out early. I felt it was important to supply photographic proof that he made an appearance this year.


Leslie looks plenty tan, but if you could see her tummy, it's day-glow pale. But we still love her, and she seriously works harder than anyone else out there!


And even though C gave up slingin for the real world, we still love her enough to invite her back!!


And then of course, I had house guests on Saturday... Here's Jeffo, showing us legal documentation that he is in fact licensed to carry firearms... That's a scary thought! (And yes, the background in this shot is a tiny glimpse into the casa de Lizzle.)


Here's Jeffo posing with the lovely Karla. They are obnoxiously adorable.


And they know how to light up a dance floor as well!


Seriously, my friends are some hot sluts!


Even if Jeff totally dances like the white boy that he is.


They really are obnoxiously adorable!


And then we got all the boys up on stage to dance around that stripper pole!


Chris is all smiles up on stage!


And Jeff really knows how to work a stripper pole!


And he doesn't mind a slap on the ass either...


Eddie, Karla, Jeffo, and Sam know what they're doing on the dance floor... I was a sweaty mess, and my feet hurt like no other, but I had a REALLY good time bumping and grinding with this group...
I love having house guests that are this much fun... (Even if Jeffo is a little gassy!) If you kids can hang with a crowd like this, you're welcome at my place ANY time!

So sue me...

Ok, so I lied about getting those pictures uploaded...

I'll get to them, REALLY, I will.

My sickness kept me in bed the majority of the day on Friday. I spent a little bit of time cleaning my place up, (though not nearly the time that I needed to spend,) and then I went out to Christine's for the flower slinging barbecue. I felt well enough to attend that, and I'm pretty sure that if I spend enough of my Saturday in bed, and cleaning my apartment that I will be ready to hang and host Jeffo and Karla.

I think its kind of important to make the place look great considering that Jeff is the baby brother of the guy I'm kinda dating right now. I'm really hoping I can wrangle this place into some kind of order in the next several hours so that I don't totally damage anyone's opinion of my taste or style... (Considering I need a great deal of sleep in order to be functional right now, I beg you to keep your fingers crossed on my behalf.)

I' m hoping that sometime on Saturday (if you're REALLY REALLY lucky,) or more likely on Sunday I will be able to load the afforementioned pictures and stories in addition to those yet to be fully realized so that my entertainment might better entertain you... Because after all, as much as this blog is literally about me, its also about you, and what you sexy bitches are willing to read and find the least bit amusing.

I'm feeling the healthy vibes you are all sending my way, and I am begging you to keep them coming!!!

I'll catch you kids later! Until then, be good!

The lizzle is home...

I have made it back to civilization. Back to the city. Back to where things make sense. I came home to find that my air conditioning unit is functional again, and not a minute too soon, because the lizzle is supposed to have house guests this weekend.

I have more pictures to post from my stay at home, but I am sick and don't feel like getting out of bed to get the pictures to load them into the computer... I'll post them tomorrow along with a couple more stories. I promise.

Tomorrow will also bring other amusements if I am well enough to function. The third annual flower slingin' barbecue is scheduled to transpire at Miss Christine's house! I am REALLY hoping that I will be feeling well enough to attend. If I can attend that party, I will certainly be able to play hostess to Jeffo and Karla on Saturday.

Please pray to all the angels in heaven that I make a speedy recovery so that I can actually enjoy my first weekend back in the city! (Although in my case, its probably more likely that you should pray to all the demons of hell, because that's where we all know I am headed!)

And now if you'll excuse me, I am going to go to bed and try to sleep through this miserable illness!

Weekend madness...

Well, my children, it would seem that blogger is actually going to work for me right now... I'm not going to push my luck and try to get you totally caught up on what I've been up to lately, but I'll at least get you through this past weekend.

I mentioned to you all that I was going to the horse track on Saturday. Seeing that I don't exactly have money to blow right now, I didn't place any bets on the ponies, but I did call a couple of winners. Here are the pictures from race day:





We had seats right down on the finish line, so it was kind of sweet to see the horses up close... (I love horses, and if someone wanted to buy me a pony, I'd totally let them!) I've seen plenty of horses up close, and my dad used to take us to Churchill Downs for weekend picnics and race days all the time when we were kids, but I'm still always impressed by how pretty the thoroghbreds are.

Sunday brought me into contact with a whole other kind of animal...

Mee Mia, the cutest ugly dog out there.


Mia was around to help us celebrate Mary's 21st birthday... Mary's dad Mike threw a big party for her with a "stock the bar" theme. Guests were asked to bring gifts of alcohol, and/or things that will be useful to this future lush... (We took some good vodka and cranberry juice.)

Mary's little brother Jacob thought it would be fun to harrass poor little Mia.


And then he thought he'd harrass his big sister, the birthday girl, Mary... But they stopped long enough to pose for the pictures!


We then proceeded to take things outside, where we find James in a sombrero, with a 3 foot long sparkler, and an alcoholic beverage... because alcohol and fireworks are ALWAYS a good combination. (And if you think he looks a little wild now, just wait!)


And then there's the other James, and his inverted son Eli.

...I'm noticing a trend as to the number of inverted children we find on this blog... Hmmmmm... Curious...

And here's the first James, (sans sombrero) trying to clean a corroded penny with hot sauce... You think I'm just making this stuff up, but I'm not. (And yes, that is a fork wrapped around his wrist... In case that penny covered in hot sauce is just too irresistable when he's through with the demonstration.)


And of course, once you get the makeshift beer pong table set up, someone has to fill the cups.


And someone has to provide the tunes...


But it looks as though Buck, the guy providing the tunes blew out an eardrum... Or maybe he was just too hammered to go on...


After Mary passed out, (which is only natural on one's 21st birthday,) and the party more or less broke up, we forged on to the homes of other unsuspecting parents... Including those with a kiddie pool set up in the back yard for their granddaughter.


Kristin and James repeatedly BEGGED me to join them in the pool, being the smart girl that I am, and knowing how these kinds of pictures tend to resurface when people are running for public office many years down he road, I respectfully declined the invitation. (Michael K, you can feel free to use any of these **And I have more** in a "caption this" contest.)


Seriously, by the end of the night, I knew what it would be like to party with Britney and K-Fed! And while it is really funny to watch for a while, in the end its like a car wreck... You don't want to look any more, but you just can't look away.


And yes, his head is totally up her tank top. (And no, they are not a couple.)


Its almost like a baptism at one of those crazy tent revivals in the bible belt! Inflatable pool and all!!


And then the lap dances start... And I am even more pleased that I never entered the pool.

God, the things a few games of beer pong, and a little Christina Aguilera will do to people!


I have never been more glad that my pants stayed on in all my life... REALLY.

And so there you have it. Proof that I really am still in my early twenties... Most of the time I either drink at home like a grown up, or I act reasonably respectable in the bars that I visit... But then there's always that one time when the liquor gets flowing, and you just happen to be lucky enough to have brought your camera, and just barely sober enough to take some really great pictures without managing to embarrass yourself... In the words of Martha "I'm-not-a-crook" Stewart, "Its a good thing."



I'm headed home tomorrow, and I'll have a reliable connection to the internet then. I'll use that opportunity to bring you all the way up to speed then.

Blogger is being a bitch... That figures.

I have stories to tell, and pictures to post, but I just typed it all up and it got sucked up and deleted by the giant black hole of Blogger, and now pictures won't go up... I promise I will get to them as soon as I possibly can!

I love you all, and I feel like I'm letting you down right now.

Please don't blame me, blogger is letting us all down right now!