The Legand of the Lemon Lady: Where My Love For Lemons Originated...

As, hopefully, you can tell, I’ve made a few changes to the look of my blog. I hope you like them. I have also added a list of other blogs I enjoy, so if you get bored at work… your welcome. Also you can now comment on blog posts under the name “anonymous” if you don’t want to set up a Yahoo or Google account… your welcome parents.

A few people have asked me where the name LemonsLemonsLemons comes from. So, I thought I would address that question today in honor of the new look. (And yes, I know it looks very similar to the old look.)

I like lemons.

Here are some reasons why I’ve always liked lemons…

Sour Lemon Sharks from Woolworths in England
Lemon Sorbet
Lemons in your Ice Tea
Lemon Pepper on everything

Then something happened when I as 15 that changed my view on lemons, from just liking them, to kinda being obsessed. I made the mistake of going to the Musee d’Orsey with my sister.

When I first moved to Germany the summer between my freshmen and sophomore years in high school, my mom, my sister, and I went on a girls trip to Paris. Sister loves Paris. She was an art history major in college (yeah my parents produced art history and American studies majors, go figure) and she took French in high school and she found out she was pregnant with my nephew while in Paris with Brother In Law. I mean I think Paris is beautiful and historical and I love food, but Sister REALLY thinks Paris is beautiful and historical and give her a baguette and she’s happy as a clam. So after we arrived in Germany and after my father dragged us all jet lagged through Bavaria and the Alps, Mom, Sister, and I jumped on the train to Paris.

After an interesting train ride sharing a compartment with a mother and her two Harry Potter loving children and a slightly creepy French tennis player we arrived in Paris ready to see the sights thanks to Sister and her tour books and knowledge of every building and statue. When I say we looked at a lot of art, we looked at a lot of art. Now, I like art. I do, but OMG does my sister like art. She can tell you why a certain painter painted an arm longer than the other or why a cherub has a thin halo instead of a thick halo. Then she would want to sketch. She would plop herself down in front of some naked guy holding grapes and draw him from different angles as Asian tourists took pictures and videotaped her. I’m sure it was a dream come true. I mean I can imagine if I was an artist, sitting with my back against the marble wall of some random hall in the Louvre sketching priceless works of art would be awesome. (Maybe even living out the movie that plays inside my head)

On the day after the Louvre, we visited the Musee d’Orsay where all the impressionist paintings are housed. The museum itself is an old train station that has been converted into a holding house of some of the most priceless, amazing, beautiful works of art. Monet and Renoir and Degas and thousands of other master artists have work inside its wall. When you visit the Musee d’Orsay you start on the ground floor and then you take a very long series of escalators to the top floor and work your way back down. This system keeps people walking the same way and traffic moving swiftly. We finished two floors and my feet were killing me and Mom was hungry, so even though I’m sure my sister was ready to press on to the next lowest floor, we made her stop at the museum café and have a bite to eat. We bought our pommes frites and whatnot and quickly found a seat to rest our feet and enjoy our little snack.

Me: “Nom, nom, nom, my feet hurt, nom.”

Sister: “Nom, nom, nom, I love art, nom.”

Mom: “So, girls what has been your favorite piece of art you’ve seen today?”

Me: “Well, I…”

Sister: (Quickly cutting me off) “Oh, well there are soooo many that are worthy of that title…. I mean first there is Monet’s Blue Water Lilies or as the French call them “Nymphéas Bleus” in its square format that just overly emphasizes the neutrality of the composition. And, it is true that if you get really close to the painting the bush strokes are stronger than the identification of the plants and water they are suppose to represent. The man was a genius, a lily pad loving genius! And the Van Goghs! Did you see The Church in Auvers –Sur –Oise? It is amazing to see such a gothic structure become light and almost flamboyant like rising from the shadows. And Cezanna… I love how… blah blah blah…”

Me: (To myself) “OMG will she never shut up? And what’s the difference between composition and dimension? Didn’t she explain that yesterday? Crap this is all just running together…”

Sister: “blah, blah, blah… Courbet vaginas… blah, blah, blah… Pissarros’ fragmented brushstrokes… blah blah blah…”

Me: (Again to myself) “Divisionism??? Okay, remember when it’s your turn say smart things like composition, dimension, and divisionism. Repeat, composition, dimension, and divisionism. Repeat, composition, dimension, and divisionism….”

Sister: “blah, blah, blah… The Redon off centered child that on one side the painting was airy and light and the other had the dark child in the shadows... blah blah blah and a whole lot of other shit about art I can’t remember/don’t want to look up/wasn’t listening in the first place.”

Twenty minutes later when my sister stopped for air and what was remaining of the French Fries, Mom turned to me and, ever the fair mother, asked me, “So, what was your favorite piece of art?”

Me: “Ah… Um… (What can’t I think of anything?) Well… You see… (Crap, who were those pretty blue painting by again? What were those smart sounding artsy words I was suppose to say?) Um… There was this one of a Lemon I liked."

"Le Lemon" by Edouard Manet 1880

FML. Really? Really? Out of all the amazing works of art I had seen for the past five hours the only painting I could remember was smaller than an 8x10 and pictured a single lemon on a plate. Yeah, a lemon on a plate. I could have remembered the beautiful Degas ballerinas, or that large painting of the men stripping the ballet studio’s floor by someone I can’t remember and Google seems to be failing me. I could have remembered all the Van Gogh self portraits that are all colorful and beautiful but always seem haunted underneath the rainbow paint. But, no. My mind went blank and the only single piece of work I could remember from the last five hours of looking at what can be argued as one of the best collections of art in the world, was than damn Manet’s Le Lemon.

So, I went with it. And I did and still do kinda love it. It is small and dark and I felt sorry for it. Yeah, I felt sorry for a painting in a museum that is probably passed over all day long while people speed walk to the Monets. Since then, I’ve become a lover of all things lemons. Later that summer I took my photo by lemon trees when Mom, Sister, and I went to Austria. Sister has painted me two painting of lemons. One was a copy of the original and one was her interpretation. I have lemon shaped candles and lemon earrings. I have a lemon throw pillow and a lemon apron. I’ve embraced an infatuation of the great citrus because of a small painting in a large museum on the other side of the world.

And there you have it, the story of
LemonsLemonsLemons.

New Friend A's Answers From Yestersay's Post: Does She Pass?

Thank you A for playing along with me yesterday.

Now, everyone else let’s analyze her answers…

1. Besides Germany where else have you lived?

"Nebraska, Mississippi, Florida, Las Vegas, The Azores, Iceland, Germany, Nebraska, Virginia."

Nebraska: Never been but Caliman is from Nebraska and he’s pretty cool. Plus 2
Mississippi: I cannot be okay with A spending time in a state that is so close to Alabama. Minus 1
Florida: I like the sun and beaches and alligators. Plus 1
Las Vegas: Gambling… fun. Living in Vegas before you’re 21… not fun. Minus 3
The Azores: When I first read her answer of The Azores I immediately ran to the bathroom to check out my map of the world shower curtain and properly locate The Azores. Here they are. A, told me last night that it was boring living there and I can’t believe that. Here is a picture of what people do in the Azores according to a travel website. I mean how is that not fun and exciting. Plus 5
Iceland: I would love to visit, but I would not love to live there. Draw
Germany: She met me! She was annoyed my me… Plus 2 anyway for Germany being awesome
Nebraska: Ick, why move back? Caliman is still from there, though. Plus 1 but no more for Nebraska
Virginia: History, Crab, and DC… Plus 1

Ending with 8 awesome points!

2. If you could be a tree, what kind of tree would you be and why? (Bonus points for knowing what movie the question is from.)

“Don’t know of the top of my head (Do share E!), and I think a magnolia, I love the beautiful flowers, or a weeping willow with Spanish moss hanging from it. Very southern, and I wish I would have been born southern, like 1800’s big beautiful dresses, ice teas on porches southern.”

Okay, so A doesn’t know the movie. (Minus 3) The question is from Drop Dead Gorgeous. It’s a mocumentary about The Mount Rose American Beauty Pageant in Mount Rose, Minnesota. It stars Kirsten Dunst, Kristie Alley, and Denise Richards and is FUCKING FUNNY!!! The question comes from the interview part of the pageant where all the contestants are asked that question except Kristen Dunst. She is being sabotaged by Kristie Alley and Denise Richards and is asked to name and spell all the states in alphabetical order instead.

As for A’s answers of either being a Weeping Willow or a Magnolia tree I give a solid Plus 2 for picking pretty trees.

3. Quick name your future children in 10 seconds or less!

“Boy, Jackson Thomas, girl, London Ann.”

Jackson is my nephew’s name but I knew a mean kid in 2nd grade named Thomas. Minus 1
London is my favorite city, and I like old fashion names like Ann. Plus 1 (would have been more if she spelled Ann with an E)

4. Deaf for the rest of your life or Blind? Which would you pick?

“Deaf, I get annoyed by stupid people and I would notice how stupid people are way less if I was deaf.”

The perfect answer. Plus 5

5. Do you think Tom Cruise has a middle tooth?

“I think Tom Cruise is part alien, so yes, he may very well have a middle tooth”

A is kinda beating around the bush here. The answer is yes. Check it out. But, I like that she explains the phenomena of the middle tooth by bringing up his alien status. Plus 2

Scenario and multiple choice questions next.

1. If you are traveling through life at a normal speed and then all of a sudden you reconnect with someone from your past (let’s call her Gertrude) and she turns out to be your long lost best friend, how long will it take you to get to Austin to hang out?

“Hope for more overtime for me, the visit will come faster that way. Know I am working on it. Soon, sooner if Sandra Bullock gets the same breakfast tacos as you, I think she would make a great big sister/mentor for us. I'm not sure if you like her, but I have a girl crush on her.”

Hoping for overtime – Minus 3
Knowing that she is working on it – Plus 1
A wanting Sandra Bullock to eat my breakfast tacos – Minus 5 (No one eats my breakfast tacos!)
A wanting Sandra Bullock to be my mentor – Minus 10 (And no I won’t watch the Blindside with you A)
A having a girl crush on Sandra Bullock – Plus 1 (I fully support love and crushes no matter on who… okay maybe not Hitler, but you get the idea.)

2. “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and sorry I could not travel both…” When you read these words do you think
A. Robert Frost I remember him from 9th grade.
B. Robert Frost, but not his best work.
C. That’s Robert Frost! That idiot I used to date passed that off as his own work!
D. I fucking hate Robert Frost.

“C, like I said, DOUCHE”

Wow, A really doesn’t like her Ex and she calls him a Douche, but who am I to judge. Anyone who knows Ex-Boyfriend… yeah, I’m in no place to judge. Plus 1

3. In first grade you thought…
A. Boys are icky
B. Boys are cute
C. Girls are cute
D. Girls throw you in the big bathroom stalls

“B, his name was Wesley, I invented a game called chase Wesley. It involved chasing the cute blond hair, blue eyed boy and trying to kiss him. If you are reading this Wesley, I am very sorry. And I still love blond hair and blue eyes.”

A, I completely understand. My Wesley was named Lee, and we put stickers on the sticker chart for our teacher after school. And I was totally head over heels in love with his blond hair. Plus 5

4. If your friend called you in the middle of the night letting you know that she and 20 other people were in the middle of a field about to sacrifice a baby lamb as part of a cult ritual that was very important to them, but she forgot her lamb killing knife at her house, you would go break into her house and bring her the knife?

“Chances are I would already be in the field with friend, and would have made sure we had everything needed for weird cult (I am weirdly organized in projects and work, but not my house. Working on making new house better.) If I wasn't there, I would get it, and feel really hurt and left out, and of course, creeped out and expecting to be invited over to friend's house for a lamb dinner.”

Great answer A. Really, better that I probably would have answered. I was expecting a “yeah sure I’d run over to help you even if you had to brutally murder a poor innocent little lamb”, but you totally one upped my answer by instating that duh, you’d be there with me. Then I got to thinking, “yeah, that’s right.” “If she really is my friend, she would be there with me” Even more awesome is that you are prepared because I am not. Just ask my parents… When I go down to visit them I always forget something! It never fails. And you like to cook. A lamb stew making friend is a good friend to have. Plus 5

Ending with positive 10 points!
Congrats A!

Introducing My New Friend and Some Thoughts on High School...

I know I've written several times on my blog about how appreciative I am of everyone’s kind words about my writing. I know it sounds silly, but I feel like I can really be myself when I sit behind my computer and type out my thoughts, as crazy as they sometimes are.

I feel like I’ve had a hard time expressing who I am since I was a senior in high school. It was when I had just moved back to San Antonio from Germany and I quickly understood that I was different. I had been places and seen things and known people and been in situations that not a one of the 3500 people I went to school with understood. It made me incredibly lonely. The feeling was not of not having friends or of leaving behind a boy friend or a loved one, but of being around perfectly normal people (some of them being my very best friends still today) and knowing that no matter how hard I try to put certain things into words, I can never find the right ones to explain what it is like to grow up (because I believe I really did grow up in those two years in Germany) across an ocean. When I tried talking about it, about my life and experience, people quickly dismissed me. They either didn’t care to listen, didn’t know how to listen, were bored, or were jealous. At that point in my life, I don’t think I was strong enough know that the people who mattered in my life would listen and try to understand and I shouldn’t worry about everyone else. But I couldn’t comprehend that idea when I was eighteen so I just didn’t say much to anyone about how I really felt about anything. For a whole year I just buzzed along not saying much at all. I didn’t want to talk about the places I had been and the different experience I had seen because I thought people would think I was bragging and full of myself.

This feeling of, “am I saying too much”, this feeling of, “should I stop talking about myself” had haunted me ever since. As crazy as I can be sometimes, as hyper as I can be sometimes, I think of myself as a pretty reserved person. I’m an introvert. I like being by myself and I like thinking my thoughts and keeping them to myself. I’m used to this and it is easy for me. At work, I spend a whole lot of my day listening to other people talk about their lives and I’m okay with this.

The best part of the past three month and writing this blog has been slowly letting the idea that people will just think I’m always talking about myself or I’m bragging or I’m full of myself slip out the window. I’m learning that not only do people value what I have to say, but they look forward to hearing it. At Best Friend’s wedding so many people thanked me for making them laugh. I have gotten comments from people I don’t even know that are positive and that urge me to keep up the good work. And one other thing has happened. I feel like I’ve made a friend.

Making a friend is a big deal for me. You all read about how I forced Best Friend into her actually being my best friend. I will be the first person to admit that when I get married my family will greatly outnumber the number of friends in attendance. I just don’t have a lot of friends. When I started hanging out with LSU Friend a few years ago I embarrassed myself by telling her that she was my only friend. You see I have a whole lot of acquaintances (work friends, Boyfriend’s friends, and other random people I know… about 99 percent of my Facebook friends) and I have a few Best Friends… and that’s it. Davis Girl, Best Friend, Boy Friend, and I would probably rank LSU Friend in this list as well now, are my only real friends. (This list doesn’t include my family that I’m really close to like Sister, Boy Friend’s Sister, and Awesome Cousin.) I have come to terms with the fact that I’m just not a very popular person. It’s all good.

Introducing my new friend and long time LemonsLemonsLemons reader… A

(Yes, A. Yes, I know it’s very Gossip Girl. Get over it.)

This is A. (Well, A in 2001)

Things from high school I know about A…

I met A in high school in Germany. She was year ahead of me and I’m not going to lie she kinda annoyed me. Not because I had ever met her, but because her name is very similar to my own. Okay I don’t use names on this blog so bare with me. Imagine you have an unpopular name… like really unpopular and old fashion and you are used to no one you know having that name. Example, Gertrude. Now imagine being in school a year behind someone with a name very similar to yours, like Bertrude. It sounds very much like your name and she had all the same teachers you have this year last year and she trained them all to say Bertrude, but Bertrude isn’t your name it’s Gertrude. So, all year long you are correcting your teachers reminding them that your name is with a B and not a G!

Besides the name connection, I then learned about A from this guy in my sophomore year English class. He just so happened to be dating A, and for some reason he would sit in the back of class with me and tell me all about their relationship. One specific detail, which I won’t mention because like I said A in my new friend and her co-workers might be reading this and I’m not quite sure that boy wasn’t just making it up, was extremely graphic and vivid.

Yup, so that’s what I knew about A. Her name pissed me off and her boyfriend was kinda obnoxious.

(Oh, and I’m like 85% sure we had economics together when I was a junior and she was senior, but really the only thing I remember from that class was when we had to give a presentation to the class about a make believe product we were marketing and I gave my presentation and immediately after ran straight to the bathroom and threw up like crazy because I was really sick and I shouldn’t have eaten Popeyes for lunch.)

Thing I now know about A…

She likes to cook.

She doesn’t like that she can’t get good breakfast tacos on the east coast and wishes I wouldn’t write about them so much.

She is engaged and getting married on the beach… in way awesome shoes and maybe a dress, but she hasn’t found that yet.

She just moved into a new house and got away from some really crazy loud neighbors who drove her insane.

She has a lot going on on her Facebook page including liking Survivor (awesome), Lady Gaga (even more awesome), and On The Road (the most awesome).

I feel bad because I don’t know much else about her. So I propose a few questions for new friend A.

1. Besides Germany, where else did you live?

2. If you could be any tree what tree would you be and why? (Bonus point for knowing what movie that is from)

3. Quick name you future children in 10 seconds or less!

4. Deaf for the rest of your life, or blind? Which would you pick? (and yes you have to pick)

5. Do you think Tom Cruise has a middle tooth?

I also propose a few scenarios and multiple choice questions…

1. If you are traveling through life at a normal speed and then all of a sudden you reconnect with someone from your past (let’s call her Gertrude) and she turns out to be your long lost best friend, how long will it take you to get to Austin to hang out?

2. “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and sorry I could not travel both…” When you read these words do you think
A. Robert Frost I remember him from 9th grade.
B. Robert Frost, but not his best work.
C. That’s Robert Frost! That idiot I used to date passed that off as his own work!
D. I fucking hate Robert Frost.

3. In first grade you thought…
A. Boys are icky
B. Boys are cute
C. Girls are cute
D. Girls throw you in the big bathroom stalls

4. If your friend called you in the middle of the night letting you know that she and 20 other people were in the middle of a field about to sacrifice a baby lamb as part of a cult ritual that was very important to them, but she forgot her lamb killing knife at her house, you would go break into her house and bring her the knife?

Although I propose these questions to A and I expect to get them back soon and fully analyze them, please anyone feel free to answer as well.

A Really Funny Story: Poker and a Random Visitor...

I was called a loser on Friday night by my sister for being young and having no children and yet, still being at home on a Friday night. So, on Saturday Boyfriend and I decided to hang out with some friends after his birthday dinner at Paggi House (which I’ll write about later).

Here is what happened…

Boyfriend and I went over to Caliman’s house to play poker. I have been playing poker ever since Old Roommate and Davis Girl taught me and I really like it. I like the strategy and trying to read people, but more I just like sitting around a table with friends, drink beer, winning money, and getting excited over card hands. We go through cycles of playing a lot, then not playing for a while. We usually don’t play in the summer because we are always playing water volleyball.

Players at the Table…

Caliman: We usually play at his house because he has a round table for cards and darts and foosball to entertain us during breaks. He is loud and crazy and fun as hell.

Joe: Joe is very serious about cards, which cracks the rest of us up. He is also the owner to the chips and therefore a vital player to the game. Also, I have never seen him enter Caliman’s house for card without some sort of sandwich (usually Thundercloud).

Creepy Dan: Creepy Dan’s real name is John. An ex girlfriend started calling him Creepy and just recently, for some reason that I don’t know, the Dan has been added. He is an architect and an avid believer in conspiracy theories. Yes, Creepy Dan, we all know 9/11 was an inside job.

Sheriff: This guy might be the most competitive person I’ve ever met. Ever. He is also a big Longhorn fan and writes for various sports blogs and websites. Yeah, Saturday and the big lose at home to Iowa State meant he was not in a good mood.

Boyfriend: You all know about him.

Me: Ditto.

So, we all sat around the card table and played poker and drank beer. Creepy Dan lost his money twice. I swear Joe was hiding chips from my view on purpose. Boyfriend and Sheriff were arguing about the NFL’s hitting rules. Caliman was trying to get everyone to double his short stack. We saw Four of a Kind (jacks) play and win against an “almost” Royal Flush. It was a good game. We started playing at around 8:30 and come 12:30 we were all about done. Caliman and Creepy Dan were both out of the game and re-lighting the grill in the back yard because they wanted more sausages. The rest of us were just about to cash in our chips when there was a knock on the front door.

“Knock! Knock! Knock!”

I can’t speak for the rest of them, but in my mind I could fathom who would be pounding on the front door so late. Just as I was about to get up and go see who it was, the door opened and in walked a girl. Yeah, she knocked three times on a door with no outside light on at 12:30 at night AND THEN WALKED RIGHT IN! She was about my height and probably in her early 30s. She had taken about five steps in Caliman’s house before she looked up and saw us (about five more steps away) sitting around the table staring at her.

Random Girl Who Just Entered Through the Front Door: “Um, hi. Is this Edwin’s house?”

As y’all know, I do embarrassing things all the time. My heart immediately felt horrible for this girl. I would be mortified if I walking into a stranger’s house at 12:30 at night, asking for some dude named Edwin. Just as I am opening my mouth to break the bad news to this poor creature, Boyfriend speaks up…

Wait for it...

Boyfriend: “Yeah, sure. He’s out back.”

A look of relief spread onto the girl’s face and she quickly walked forward into the dining area with the table we were playing at. I quickly snapped to attention after Boyfriend’s inviting yet completely false words and introduced myself and everyone else at the table. Hellos were exchanged around the table. He name was June. June then noticed the kitchen next to us and, just like she was at home or at a friend’s house, walked up to the fridge and add the beer she had brought for Edwin’s party.

Boyfriend: “So June, how do you know our buddy Edwin?”

June: “Oh, we work together at Chuys”

Chuys is a local Mexican restaurant with amazing creamy jalapeño dip. The dip isn’t relevant, but I thought y’all should know just in case you are ever in Austin. In my mind I’m thinking, “awesome now we have a hook up at Chuys”.

Boyfriend: “Oh, we love Chuys. Right…”

Me, Joe, and Sheriff: “Oh, yeah. Right. Love it.”

Boyfriend: “How has your day been going, June?”

June: “Well this morning I was driving to work and at a stop sign I looked over and in the car next to me was a man with a cape and his girl friend complimented my earrings. Yeah, I saw a superhero and his girlfriend just driving down the street.”

This started a five minute conversation about what superheroes did on their days off. We concluded that they were probably going to get pancakes and then go to the post office and to fly just seemed like a hassle and would get them to much unwanted attention.

(Remember we have never met this person and we don’t know Edwin and he sure as hell isn’t in Caliman’s backyard where Boyfriend told her he was.)

June: “So you said Edwin’s out back?”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, he’s lighting up the grill. Did you bring any steaks to eat?”

June: “Nah, no steaks just beer.”

Boyfriend: (getting up out of his chair) “Come on I’ll show you to the backyard.”

And then they both walked out of the dining room, though the kitchen, and into the backyard where Caliman and Creepy Dan are lighting the grill and where there is no Edwin.

Me, Sheriff, and Joe: (still around the table) “HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!”

Seriously, I don’t remember the last time I laughed this hard. I had tears in my eyes. Joe was as red as a tomato, and Sheriff had to cover his face with his hat. About two minutes later Boyfriend, Caliman, Creepy Dan, and June walked back into the house. Evidently her friend Edwin lives just down the street at an address that is similar to Caliman’s. She invited us all to go with her and I’m glad she could laugh at the situation. Again, I would have been mortified! She was cool about. She laughed with us and took her beer out of the fridge but shared some before she left. We were grateful as we had ran out 2 hours before her arrival.

I hope to run into her one day at Chuys and I hope she remembers me as being a part of those people who lied to her about her friend living in that house she once broke into late on Saturday night looking for some mysterious person named Edwin.

Project Runway Finale Part 1: Sob Stories and the Truth About Michael's Sexuality...

Here we are! The beginning of the end. Four designers left. Four designers to battle it out for one of three spots in the Finale. Four designers to bore me to death for an hour and a half with their sob stories.

Heidi lets the designers know that they will have 6 weeks and 9000 dollars to complete a 10 look collection. Make it work… Work hard… Wow us… blah blah blah, nobody watches this show for you Heidi. Give us Tim and awkward family dinners please.

Tim Visit’s The Designer’s Homes!!!

Waiane, HI – Andy

Tim meets Andy in paradise. Like real paradise. No five star hotel or high rise in Honolulu, Andy is out on his mom’s farm and it couldn’t be more beautiful. His mother, who we met briefly when the moms came to visit the designers a few weeks back, is adorable and seems to be very proud of her son. So Andy is from paradise and his mother loves him, but where is the hardship? He better find a “down on my luck, I need this more because” story quick. Quick, cue the crazed fish! Yeah, you see Andy had to do chores growing up, like feeding the fish (um, because that’s hard labor) so he is rising above… or something inspirational like that. You know because fish feeders rarely amount to anything.

Two weeks before fashion week and he doesn’t have anything to show Tim because he’s been waiting for his hand made fabric from Laos to be delivered. He is inspired by Laos, a Buddhist park there, and his grandfather who was an elephant herder.

Palm Springs, CA – Michael

Michael is all goofy smiles when Tim shows up and can’t wait to show off his collection which is inspired by the sky and feathers.

Time Out… I am already really worried for Michael. This is freaking Project Runway Season 9! You cannot send a collection down the Fashion Week runway that is inspired by the sky and feathers! You remember Jeffery? His final collection was based off on Japanese Nightmares. Jay’s Fashion Week collection, even way back when in season 1, was about urban kids hiding behind all different kinds of music. This is go big or go home time, Michael! Feathers and um looking up, isn’t going to cut it. I fear for him on the runway. Time In…

Michael shows Tim some of his line and the feather tutu dress is pretty, but I feel like I’ve seen it before. Oh, and of course he has made like 5000 dresses for a 10 piece look, this Michael we are talking about. Tim reminds him to edit and tells him to stop making dresses.

Then there is a very awkward scene where Michael tells Tim his son is really looking forward to seeing him again (he came to New York to visit during the mom visits), except when Tim enters the room and says hello to the kid the kid looks like he just wants to run and hide under his bed. Michael introduces Tim to his friends and not his family since they don’t really support him. And his buddy once OUTTED MICHAEL TO HIS FAMILY!!! OMG!!! STRAIGHT MICHAEL ISN’T STRAIGHT!!! Straight Michael is really “slightly less flamboyant but still likes it up the ass” Michael.

Denver, CO – Mondo

Mondo’s house and work space is like Punk Barbie’s dream house on crack. It’s awesome. He was inspired by Mexican tile work and Mexico City, but like a dark “Dia De Los Muertos” Mexico City. He calls is “polished” Mondo.

Tim then has another very awkward dinner. This one includes Mondo’s parents and his sister. Sister starts to cry and I can’t decide if it’s because she is proud of her brother or if it’s because the awkwardness of the table is too much for her to take and she just wants a way out. Mondo’s mom explains to Tim, the other gay man at the table, that she tried to make him normal. She and her husband tried to make him a “macho man”. Mondo then explains that in order to play the piano growing up, his parents made him play baseball. Somehow I understand just a little bit better that Mondo never told his parents he was HIV positive.

Portland, OR – Gretchen

Gretchen went back to Portland after the last challenge and was dumped by her boyfriend and had no money in her bank account. This is sad.

……(This is me trying to be sad for Gretchen)

There are then a few weird scenes of Gretchen and her mom packing up boxes and it’s hard to tell if they are her collection boxes, if she’s being evicted, or if she’s moving out of her and her ex-boyfriend’s place. She is embarrassed for Tim to see this. Tim gives her a little talk about how once he had his heart broken and it led to him moving to New York, and he really might be the most amazing man. I mean, Gretchen told him about her heart ache and he brought the story around to him and it didn’t seem like he was taking her spotlight or stealing her thunder. If this had been the Tyra Banks show it would have been a whole lot different.

Gretchen’s line is inspired by nature and tribes from around the world. She wants the pieces to be very wearable. She has also designed jewelry to go along with her looks and I wonder if this is a new requirement, because it seems like almost all of them did this.

Back To New York!!!

All the designers are put up in the swanky Hilton and then given free vacations from Hilton in a 10 minutes scene that should have been cut. Seriously, in the words of Co-Worker #1, “I’m dying here”. Boring…

But then Tim comes in and lets the designers know that they will be showing the judges three looks to decide who makes it to Fashion Week, two of the looks they spend 6 weeks on and one new look they must make in two days.

Andy decides to bring some glamour into his collection with a “wow” piece. He buys a whole lot of green fabric and starts to make some interesting pleats. Mondo makes a knit dress and then, after the entire first day, scraps it because he thinks it looks to “junior” and I completely agree. Good eye Mondo my love. Gretchen wants to make a day look and designs an adorable little dress, although in a pretty boring army green color. Michael is making a pretty dress, but can’t for the life of him pick out the other pieces he wants to send down the runway with it. Tim then tells him not to choke and the other designers to keep up the good work.

Runway!!!

Heidi’s hair is looking a heck of a lot better now that it’s a little grown out, and there is no guest judge.

Andy: First of all, I don’t understand the headgear. If he was inspired by Laos and elephant herders, why are his models wearing space alien headbands that are two feet tall? My favorite is actually the romper. (Words I never thought would leave my mouth.) I like the green dress. The color is amazing. The pleats are perfect, but I think it needs to be three inches longer. I can’t remember if Gretchen or Mondo made the comment that Andy’s line is beautiful, but lacks texture and dimension and I completely agree. The pleats and ruffles are gorgeous, but kinda fall flat. Oh, and that swimsuit top looks like a Lyrical Dance outfit. Heidi loves the colors and Kors loves the pleating. Nina worries that there might not be a range to his looks, and he counters her point by letting them know he purposely didn’t show them his “wow” pieces because he wants to save them for the final runway. Um, okay. They, and I, both feel like this is a huge mistake, but they let him slide. Andy is showing at Fashion Week.

Gretchen: I love the little dress she made in the two days. The back is especially cool. I also like some of her jewelry, but think she went a little over board with accessories. There are bags and necklaces and ear rings and hats… oh my. And yeah, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that I love the hat/leatherjacket/diaper look. Yeah, that’s right. I would rock that hat and jacket, maybe not the diaper but it makes for an interesting look coming down the runway. Heidi says she isn’t in love with the looks, but her interest has been “peaked”. Nina, on the other hand, is not “peaked”. She rips Gretchen a new one for being boring, granola, and crunchy. She says Gretchen has no drama and doesn’t understand that that a fashion show is just that, a show. The looks need more “oomph”. Kors doesn’t think it looks expensive and they all tell her she need to do better on her styling for the big show. So, yeah, Gretchen is on for Fashion Week.

Mondo: A few things bother me about these looks. One is the shoes, they are UGLY. The second is a blue shirt. I feel like blue is a good color choice, just not this blue. It makes the look look cheap, especially with the pink around the cuffs. Other than that, I kinda love everything. I love the black and white long dress. I think it’s unique and fits amazing. I love that it is sexy as hell, but long sleeves. The judges agree with me about the blue shirt and are torn on the long dress. Kors really likes that the pieces seem to mix and match very easily. Nina, who is kinda bitchy to everyone, then starts ranting about how Mondo needs to not be to “circus like”. Okay, so Gretchen is too boring and Mondo is too over the top? WFT Nina? What about McQueen and Vivian Westwood and hell even Chanel? Their runways are all crazy over the top. Anyway, Mondo is through to Fashion Week like we all knew he would be.

Michael: That leaves Michael. Poor, totally not straight, Michael. His new dress is beautiful and the color couldn’t be any better for the model's skin tone. It looks expensive and polished and effortless. Again, I like the feather dress, but I’ve seen it before. I really like the sequin pants, but again I have seen them before. Marc Jacobs anyone???
Kors praises the new dress for being perfect at every angle. Heidi likes the pants and fringe top. The problem the judges really have with Michael’s line is the color and over working. I knew he would be called out for a weak inspiration, and yes just like Kors says color does not make a collection. You can’t just send a bunch of pink and copper dresses down the runway and expect everyone to think it’s a sky collection. They think his dresses are a little over worked, and he says he wanted to show them the best. I wish he would have remembered that every challenge he won this season it was because his dresses were effortless and simply beautiful. Michael is sent home.

Okay, let’s talk about what happened after the runway show. There is clearly something wrong with Michael. I feel like there is no way a normal person reacts this way. It is painful to watch. He regresses into a childish state crying into the corner. I hope his parents really aren’t the horrible people he makes us believe they might be. I hope he grows from this experience and becomes successful.

Next Time on Project Runway… Everyone from this season meets back up and FASHION WEEK!!!

How I Almost Went Crazy Last Night When I Went To Buy Sour Cream...

The Project Runway Recap is coming tomorrow. I promise. I didn’t get to watch it because Boyfriend took over the couch last night, and I wanted to be a good girlfriend so I didn’t make him watch it with me. Why was Boyfriend all over my couch like it was his territory? Boyfriend is officially Gimpy Boyfriend now. He stepped on a nail yesterday at work and tore his foot up. Yeah, in his ultimate wisdom he decided that wearing shoes is for losers and thus pissed off the Flip Flop Gods, who evidently are buddy buddy with the I’m Gonna Shove A Giant Nail In Your Foot Gods. It’s so bad that Gimpy Boyfriend didn’t go to work today. We’ve been dating for over four years and I’ve only seen him not go to work twice. Once he had the worst flu bug I’ve ever witnessed (well at a distance because I didn’t want to get sick, which was hard because we lived in a 400 square foot efficiency) and once when he drank a gallon of gin the night before and had alcohol poisoning. Now I can add “that one time he stepped on a nail and shredded the bottom of his foot” to the list.

So, no PR recap, but I thought I’d tell y’all about my trip to my local fresh Mexican restaurant, Zocalo, last night.

It goes like this… Gimpy Boyfriend is in the bath with his leg sticking out, whining that it hurts and whatnot, while I am trying to figure out what to do for dinner. Today is payday, meaning yesterday there was no food in the house, but a shit load of polish sausage that Boyfriend’s Sister made the last time she was in Chicago. Gimpy Boyfriend didn’t want to wait the hour+ it takes to thaw and cook the sausage and wanted me to heat up the remaining part of his Rick Barnes on Potato Pancakes I had bought him the day before. He also wanted me to run to the store and get more sour cream because evidently the people at Katz had been stingy and he didn’t have enough for the second half of the sandwich. Now, being the nice girlfriend that I am, I said no problem, grabbed my purse, and left to make Gimpy Boyfriend happy.

I think I once mentioned that I hate when people misuse the word “literally”. So, when I say that Clarksville Grocery is literally two blocks away, I literally mean it’s two blocks away. In fact I usually just walk, but Gimpy Boyfriend was being gimpy and whining and wanted me to hurry so I took Yolanda (that’s my car’s name). I say this to let you, the reader, know that I’m kinda in a hurry to get home and nurse my wounded boyfriend back to health with potato pancakes and sour cream. As I was backing out of my drive way, I had a moment of genus as I decided to stop by Zolcalo to put in an order for guacamole and their tostada salad, which I love, and while it was being made just run to the Grocery store (which is right across the street) and grab Gimpy Boyfriend’s sour cream.

I park Yolanda in the Zocalo parking lot and quickly walk to the front door. As I’m about to make it up the stairs I am cut off by three girls walking into the restaurant. I am kinda annoyed by this when I open the door and see that there would have been no line at the ordering counter if I had been there a split second earlier, or if those girls would have held open the door for me. So, here I am waiting behind girl numbers 1,2, and 3.

What pissed me off first is the fact that all three of them picked up menus to look and see what they wanted, but then immediately walked up to the counter like they were ready to order. I mean that’s why the menus aren’t at the cash register, but further back by the door, so you can figure it out and then walk up to the greasy hipster and place your order. Second thing that pissed me off was the fact that they all looked exactly alike! And, no, not in a, “wow are y’all triplets?” kinda way, but in a, “we all shop only at American Apparel, Skinny Jean R Us, and Goodwill but only to be ironic” kinda way. Seriously, they all had on slightly over sized plain shirts with tiny, tiny shorts just barely sticking out under the hem of the shirt. They all had on the same T strapped sandals, but in different colors. They all had these small little purses with really long straps so they hung low. They all had long hair that was pulled to the side and braided. And they all talked in that “girl/flirty/annoying” voice. You know that voice.

Girl Number 1: (holding the menu standing in front of Greasy Hipster Dude who is behind the counter) “um… yeah… um…”

Girl Number 2: (also holding a menu) “Yeah… oh… um…”

Girl Number 3: (looking over Girl number 2’s shoulder) “Mmmm… okay… um…”

Girl Number 1: “The tortilla soup sounds yum… um… hum…”

Girl Number 2: “Yeah I had tortilla soup once… it was… yeah… good…”

Girl Number 1: “But look, enchiladas… maybe…”

Girl Number 3: “Hum…” (turning to Greasy Hipster) “What do you think about the Tacos?”

Greasy Hipster: “Tacos? Yeah, they are good, I guess.”

Girl Number 3: “Yeah, I guess…”

Girl number 1: (looking at Greasy Hipster) “What is your favorite thing on the menu?”

Greasy Hipster: “Well, I…”

Girl Number 2: “No, what are your three favorite things on the menu?”

Time Out... At this point I am already clinching my jaw and telling myself to calm down. But come on! It’s been 6 minutes and not a one of these dumb bitches has ordered and I have to get thought three of them!!! I just want to place my quick order, run across the street to grab some sour cream and Neosporin and toothpaste (I’ve been waiting so long I’ve remembered other things I need to get) and get home and take care of Gimpy Boyfriend like the fucking loving person that I am!!! Time In…

Greasy Hipster: “Well I really enjoy the… blah, blah, blah…” (he then went on to describe half the freaking menu)

Girl Number 1: “Oh… well… everything sounds so yummy… I think I’ll have… (OMFingG I think she is going to order) um… yeah… I’ll have the enchiladas.”

Praise God one of them is finally done! All she has to do is fish money out of that ridiculously small purse and move along.

Girl Number 1: “Oh… wait…” (No! No wait!) “Can I see a drink menu?”

Um, no you can’t stupid girl. You are in a restaurant where you walk up to the counter. Look around, there is no bar you dumb bitch. You can get a frozen Margarita or a frozen Sangria, or if you want to the really daring you can get a mix of both. How do I know this? Is it because I frequent this restaurant? No, it’s because there is a giant God Damn sign right above Greasy Hipster’s head letting the customers, including Girl Number 1,2, and 3, know!!! Greasy Hipster then gives Girl Number 1 her choices.

Girl Number 1: “Um… I think… I think I’ll take a Margarita.”

Greasy Hipster: “Do you want salt on that?”

At this point if I had a gun I would have shot Greasy Hipster in the balls if he asked this girl one more question. I wanted to scream at him to stop giving this girl the 3rd degree and just pour Margarita in her mouth every time it hangs open when she says, “yeah… um…”. But finally Girl Number 1 pays and moves out of the way.

Girl Number 2: “Oh… Well… I guess if it’s my turn… I’ll have…”

Girl Number 1: (interrupting Girl Number 2 as she is ordering) “Should we sit inside or outside?”

Girl Number 2: “Oh… Well… How about… Yeah… I don’t care…”

Girl Number 3: “You can decide… Sure…”

Girl Number 1: “But I don’t care where we sit.”

Me: “THEN WHY DON’T YOU GO SIT ON THE MOON! OR WHY DON’T YOU DRIVE TO THE HOME OF THE POOR SMUCKS THAT BIRTHED YOU AND TORMENT THEM!!!!” (Except I didn’t say that. I didn’t say anything.)

At this point I had been waiting behind these girls for exactly 14 minutes. Yeah, I had been checking my watch. Finally another Zolcalo worker walks up to the other register next to Greasy Hipster, looks at me and smiling says, “Can I help you?” I want to say, “Yes take my order and club these girls with baseball bat to benefit the future of my own sex”, but instead I just walk up to the counter and say, “Yes”.

New Zocalo Worker: “To go order right?”

In my mind I am thinking, “Wow, do I look like a pathetic loser who couldn’t possibly be meeting someone to dine in” but then I remember I am in workout shorts, one of my dad’s old undershirts, flip flops with paint stains on them, and my glasses.

Me: “Yeah, that’s right.”

New Zocalo Worker: “Your name?”

Me: “Lemon Lady and I’ll ha”

New Zocalo Worker: “Wait. What? I don’t have a Lemon Lady. We have a Beth and an Albert...”

Me: “Oh, yeah I want to place the To Go Order.”

New Zocalo Worker: “Um… I don’t understand…”

Really? What don’t you understand? You speak perfect English and you don’t look mentally challenged and you work in a restaurant. Do most people walk up to the register (which is under the big “order” sign) and want to play Scrabble with you or want to talk about the Cowboys? You have food back there somewhere and I want some, so I’m going to tell you what I want and give you money and you give me some F-ing food!!!

Me: “I want to tell you my to go order…”

New Zocalo Worker: “Yeah I can’t do that… um…”

At this point I would have probably broken down and fallen to the floor crying because all I wanted was to get my guacamole and tostada salad and run across the street for sour cream so I could get back to my house and help Gimpy Boyfriend get out of the bathtub and turn off the oven which was heating up the sandwich that was sure to be burnt to a crisp by now… But at that exact second God decided to shine down some love and Girl Number 3 walked away and Greasy Hipster turned to me and said, “I can take your order.” Those magic words kept me from causing a scene. They were like drinking a cold glass of water after running in the desert. Those words were like taking off your high heals after wearing them all day. I could breathe again.

Me: “Yes, I’ll have…”

And then I was done. He took my money and I ran to get the sour cream. When I came back my food was ready and I could go home. I spent a totally of 31 minutes trying to place an order at Zocalo and a total of 1.5 minutes buying sour cream.

Random Thoughts: Birthday Candles, Real 1st Birthdays, and Freaky C Section Kids...

Since yesterday was Boyfriend’s Birthday I decided to be a nice girlfriend and I picked up a yummy dinner from Katz (which never kloses). Boyfriend is very particular about what he orders there. He always wants a number 3 Rick Barnes sandwich (which is corned beef and pastrami) but instead of breed he wants the meet in between two potato pancakes with a whole lot of sour cream on the side to dip it in. Yeah…

So, being the awesome GF that I am I got him his modified Rick Barnes and a slice of cheesecake with fresh strawberries. Really, it’s more like a hunk, a slab, a 5000 calorie chunk of the greatest cheesecake you will ever put in your belly. Hands down this is the best cheesecake I’ve ever had, and to make it more festive for Boyfriend’s Birthday I stopped by our local grocery store to buy a candle for him to blow out on top of his “straight from God’s bakery” cheesecake.

So here’s my random thought… why don’t we put candles in more things we eat?

I walked into Clarksville Grocery and bought a box of 20 candles. 20 candles! What am I going to do with 20 candles? Okay, I know that some people have a candle for every year they have been alive on their cake/cupcakes/cheesecake/birthday treat, but that gets a little ridiculous after like age 13. When you are 8, having 8 candles isn’t a big deal. Your mom still has enough time to light them all and carry your cake out to the table without all the wax dripping and half of them being blown out by the air conditioner, but by then time you get into your teen years, mom is just using a few candles to write out the number of how old you are. You might be turning 18, but your cake is only going to have 12 candles on it in the shape of an 18. So why were both boxes of candles in my grocery store big enough to hold 20 and 26 candles? It’s like the scene in Father of the Bride where Steve Martin gets all angry in the grocery store because he thinks they are ripping him off for making him buy 12 hotdog buns when there are only 8 hotdogs in a hotdog package. I use one candle a year. I am now set for Boyfriend’s next 19 birthdays. That means he will be turning 51 and I will still be using these damn candles!

My new strategy is put candles in everything! Why only get to blow out candles once a year? Why only have one wish every 365 days? Why not put candles in everything and therefore get a wish with every meal? I wouldn’t feel bad wishing for a new Marc Jabocs bag tonight if I knew that tomorrow I could wish for world peace. Leftovers would be much more exciting with candles. Left over half eaten salmon from dinner last night, boring. Left over half eaten salmon from dinner last night adorned with sparkly, bright pink trick candles that never go out, awesome.

Speaking of birthdays… Why isn’t our 1st birthday really our 2nd birthday?

Between Sister and a bunch of my friends having children, I’ve been invited to a whole lot of 1st birthday parties. Except really aren’t they the kid’s 2nd birthday? Technically, the day you are born is your birthday. Literally, the day you are born is your birthday. I mean you cannot get and more “birthday” than the actually F-ing day you were born! Every December 28th is not my birthday, it’s the same calendar day that I was born (this year) 26 years ago. So all those invitations I get should really say, “Come Celebrate Jonny turning 1 on his second birthday!” Or “Come celebrate Jonny turning 1 on the anniversary of his birthday.”

In continuing this post about birthdays, C Section kids really freak me out.

Before I get to the reasons why C Section kids are weird, let me state that I have no problem with most moms who have to have a C Section. I think modern technology to save a baby’s life or the mom’s life or help keep both of them healthy is amazing and what not. Blah, blah, blah… insert the politically correct thing to say.

What I have a problem with is people planning their children’s birthdays. I mean I think a mom making an appointment with her doctor in her little black book to schedule in major surgery to have their child on Thursday (their non busy day) is crazy. Now is it weird if the doctor told them that their kid has a giant head and can’t pass through the birth canal so they should schedule a C Section, no. But, I was talking about the kids themselves being freaky, not the mother.

I know I am weird, but when someone tells me they were a C Section kiddo I always wonder what they would have been like if they had been born on the day God and the stars and they decided they were good and ready to be born. Some kids come a few days early and some a few days late. Would I be an entirely different person if my mom had scheduled me to be born before Christmas on the 22nd? Seriously I think about this all the time and not just when I’ve had too much to drink and whatnot. Boyfriend is a C Section baby. If he was born on the natural day he decided he stewed long enough in his mother’s womb, would we be together? Would his laugh be the same? Would his mother changed her mind and named him Philip instead of Boyfriend?

Seriously this shit blows my mind.

Three Awesome Halloween Costume Ideas: You Pick For Me!

Last week I sent out a text message to a few close friends asking what they had dressed up as for Halloween in the last five years. I got some great answers like Bob Barker Beauty (which I wrote about here), flapper (sequins and fringe is always fun), and Disciple (which made me laugh out loud).

Here are my final three choices. Please let me know what you think should be my final decision and thus my Halloween Costume of 2010.

Number 1…

Pregnant 1950’s Girl in Poodle Skirt!

This idea comes straight from Berkley, California and was submitted by Best Friend.

Ponytail: Check
Cardigan: Check
Poodle Skirt: I’m sure can be found at any Halloween Costume shop
Basketball Belly: Check (Well maybe soccer ball or small throw pillow)
Saddle Shoes: Cheep fake Keds from Walmart and a black Sharpie marker and I’m in business
Gold Chain and Class Ring: Check for the chain and I’m sure I can find a gaudy gold ring somewhere

Added Bonus of Pregnant 1950’s Girl in Poodle Skirt…
Boyfriend in Fonzie wig!!!

Number 2…

Super Sexy Super Slutty BP Worker!

This idea comes straight from yours truly as I was trying to think of the most random profession I could slut up.

Green Dress: Forever 21 here I come
BP Badge: Yellow construction paper and glitter
Oil Slick Stains: Black paint
Sexy Black “Oiled Up” Boots: Already own!
Sad Dead Dolphin Stuffed Animal: Goodwill (hopefully) if not Toys R Us

Added Bonus of Super Sexy Super Slutty BP Worker… (Besides playing with paint and glitter)
I’m pretty sure no one else will have this costume.

Number 3…

Dinosaur!

This gem of an idea was given to me by Cupcake.

Green Skin: Because I don’t think I’m brave enough to wear a green body suit, I’m thinking green T shirt and sweatpants from Walmart.
Hand and Toe Claw (Because on Halloween you want to be scary, therefore I would obviously be a Veloceraptor): Black construction paper.
Scales: Green marker or paint
Feathers: Craft store. (Yeah, Veloceraptors had feathers. Look it up!)

Added Bonus of being a Dinosaur…
Spending the whole night with your elbows glued to the sides of your body because dinosaurs had very small arms.

Okay let the voting begin!!!

For The Rest of My Life...

For the rest of my life...

(No Sister, I'm not engaged.)

I want to wear these shoes.

They just got named The Sexiest Shoes of the Year by Footwear News, a news publication I don't think I'm reading often enough. They are Louboutins and I want them. I kinda have a thing for pretty designer shoes, even though I don't own any. I lust after shoes in magazines, drool in Saks, and love when Boyfriend's Sister gets out her collection.

I want to married in these shoes.
I want to wear them to HEB.
I want to sleep with them.
I want to "have relations" with them.
I want to give birth to them, name them, and cry on their first day of school.
I want to be burried in them.
I want to go to Heaven and be reunited with them.

How I Met Boyfriend and How He Lied About Being Old...

Boyfriend’s birthday is on Wednesday and he will be 32 years old. In my Oregon Trail post I wrote about how we try not to have “how old were you when…” conversations because it can quickly get awkward, but other than that our age difference isn’t a big deal at all. Of course it helped that when we first started dating he told me he was really like 2 years younger than he really was.

Let’s go back…

I met Boyfriend when I was 20 and living with Davis Girl and Boy Roommate. We had all just moved in together and I was pretty much having THE WORST SUMMER EVER!!! My boyfriend at the time, Ex-Boyfriend, had just left to study abroad in Amsterdam for a year and I broke my foot on Old Co-Workers head at Shlitterbahn and had to walk around in a black boot all summer. So, there I was crying every day because I missed Ex-Boyfriend (well and because I was fucking pissed that he had the nerves and balls to leave me for a whole year and not just a semester like normal college students), and hobbling around on my retarded foot… it wasn’t a pretty picture. Davis Girl and Boy Roommate spent a lot of that summer getting me out of the house and cheering me up. One of the ways Boy Roommate did this was to take me to play water volleyball.

Let’s go back even further…

This game of water volleyball has been going on since the early 1990’s. Technically a few people would argue it goes back even further than then, but the early 90’s is when Chief started playing and he’s Chief so that’s where I’ll start. You see Chief was a spry Doctoral Student at UT and moved into this new apartment complex that had a water volleyball pool. After a lot of practicing and playing and inviting of friends, Chief became Chief and he has stayed there ever since. So the game now is a big mixture of people. Some people live or, more usually, lived in the complex and found the game addicting. Others, like myself, were brought to the game by someone else who knew about it. Boy Roommate many, many years earlier had lived at the complex and started playing. Like almost everyone else, he had moved away, but still came back Wednesdays, Thursdays, and the weekends to play ball.

I met Boyfriend that first summer I started going to the pool. He was never rude or mean by any means, but he wasn’t exactly friendly either. He was just quiet, which I always thought was sort of odd because his best buddy, his hetero life mate in the world of water volleyball, was the loudest most obnoxious person out there. (And, according to Davis Girl, “the cute one”.)

Some people I met playing water volleyball…

Chief (who holds a PhD from UT in History)
Creepy (whose real name is John)
Wescott (who just might be the most competitive person I’ve ever met in my life, but his parents are like poets or English Professors, so I think it kinda makes since. Also he did a project for one of his classes about the evolution of the AWVP’s terminology. Check it out here.)
Pat (who wears funny glasses)
Jess (Boyfriend’s Hetero life mate who is the other half of The Wild Boys, yes my boyfriend is a “wild boy”)
Rachel (Jess’ Ex-girlfriend who I was told, “can fuck you up” on my first night at the pool by Navy. No, I was never “fucked up” by Rachel)
Jim Back (no words can describe Jim Back, except that he is a father now and “I weep for the future”)
Bunny (because who don’t love a Big Lewbowski refrenece)
OJ (“Other Jesus” because one savoir just isn’t evough)

If you would like to learn more about the AWVP please click here.

Yeah so summer number 1 Boyfriend didn’t say two words to me.

During summer number 2, the next summer when I was 21, Boyfriend asked out my roommate. My male roommate. So, one Saturday there weren’t that many people at the pool playing, which is very odd for a weekend in the summer. There was however a whole lot of beer and a very hot sun. Needless to say, we all got quiet drunk very easily. With a little beer in his system Boyfriend got up the nerve to not only start talking to me, but also start flirting. It was nice. Then as the sun started dipping behind the buildings and games started slowing down, he went up to Boy Roommate…

Boyfriend: “So, what are you going to do tonight?”

Boy Roommate: “Um, I don’t know man. Davis Girl is working so Lemon Lady and I will probably just chill at home.”

Boyfriend: “Oh… Oh, well some friends and I are going downtown and you should totally come. It will be fun.”

Boy Roommate: “Um, sure…”

Boyfriend: “Yeah… okay… andyoushouldbringLemonLadywithyou.”

Boy Roommate: “Yeah, sure, okay.”

That’s how it happened. Boyfriend asked out Boy Roommate and the rest is history.

Now, Boyfriend’s age came up that very day at the pool. I will swear on my death bed that when I asked Boyfriend how old he was that day he told me 26. I had never dated anyone more than a year older than me and 26 was a big pill to swallow. In my head I thought of his age like this…

“26 is almost like being 25 and 25 is still considered early (okay maybe mid) 20s. So really he’s not that much older than me.”

Then a few weeks later I found out that Boyfriend was really 27, not 26, and he was about to turn 28 in October. In a matter of weeks, Boyfriend aged 3 years. It’s a good thing I was already completely in love.

And because I'm a sucker for cute photos... here are some from that second summer together playing ball.

Project Runway Episode 13: Church Camp Feelings, Stress, and Asian Hookers...

Everybody we are down to the final five and this is the last episode until we get to ride along with Tim and see the designers in their natural element called “home”. (Oh God, I’m already shuttering thinking about Gretchen’s Mom.) But first they meet Heidi on the runway and she lets them know that they get to relax for the evening. Although they seem happy to hear this news and even happier when they see the nice hotel suite they get to stay in, you know in the back of their mind’s they are eyeing the pillow cases, curtains, and place mats in case they are surprised with a “relaxing, awesome hotel suite challenge”.

But, there is no challenge and the designers get to sit around, drink Champaign and talk about how lucky they are and how awesome they are and how awesome everyone is. Boring. This is the scene that would have been cut if Project Runway wasn’t like five hours long this season. The only major thing that happens is April starts to cry because she is only 21 and can’t believe she has made it this far and is so excited to get a chance and fashion week and blah, blah, blah… But the tears are pretty damn amazing. I thought she only had two looks: frown and scowl, but apparently “sad emo girl” is in her back pocket just for times like this. Pretty much it’s like Church Camp on the next to last day when you’re so exhausted and then they have the big bonfire and everyone starts crying because like everyone is so happy and loves Jesus so much. Yeah, the night before the last challenge on Project Runway is so like the last night at Church Camp.

Challenge!!!

Tim meets the designers on what looks like the roof of some building, but a nice roof with grass. (It’s weird.) Oh, and Mayor Bloomberg is with him to announce that their inspiration for the final challenge with be NEW YORK! The designers can go anywhere they like and get inspired by any New York landscape, and they get 500$! (Oh and Gretchen is wearing those damn boots again.)

Big Surprise, Michael goes to the Statue of Liberty and is inspired by the draping of her dress. So, I don’t think Michael is a bad designer, but I feel like his looks are all on the boring side and things I’ve seen before. AND HE ONLY EVER MAKES DRESSES!!! I have a feeling he is going to be called out for being a “one note” like Rami a few seasons ago who could only make drapey-drapey dresses and then on the last challenge was inspired by a Roman Statue and made, you guessed it, a drapey gown.

April and Mondo both go to the Brooklyn Bridge, but Mondo is much more stylish with his rainbow umbrella that looks a lot like mine from DC. (I’m just saying.)

Andy heads to Central Park and after staring at the trees for a while he decides, “I just want to do a dress.” At this point I’m so bored I actually want to go into my bedroom and watch The Grand with Boyfriend for the 5000th time.

Gretchen wanders around the Lower East Side (that’s the LES to all you New Yorkers or Gossip Girl fans) and says she is uninspired by this challenge. That’s right y’all, only Gretchen could be under whelmed by the whole of New York City.

Mood!!!

Andy pulls a whole lot of black which kinda bored me because he always uses black, but then the viewers get a better look and they are cool patterns and textures. Gretchen says she wants to make a leather jacket and lets all thank God she doesn’t want to make a leather robe. Tim is already warning Michael not to be literal and make the Statue of Liberty a new dress, but use it as inspiration instead. Tim also tried to get April to use a color that isn’t black. Just as April is wondering back down the Funeral Isle, Mondo comes dashing down the stairs with bright magenta fringe and all is good in the world again.

Workroom!!!

Because there are only five designers left and they just had their Church Camp/We all deserve Fashion Week Cry-athon the night before, everyone is pretty nice in the workroom and only talk bad about the other designers to the cameras individually. Gretchen says Michael reminds her of the designer she was five years ago because he can only make dresses and replications of things he likes. I feel like she has a point here. Michael of course makes two dresses. One looks like a black burka with no head covering and the other looks like it might be for Birthday Cake Barbie, but for her 40th birthday because it’s black. Oh and Mondo is using bright yellow sequins on his black and white tweed dress.

Being the last challenge the designers are freaking out just a bit and dancing around the room with fabric. Michael’s Michael Kors impression is spot on and kinda hilarious. Then Gretchen brings up the fact that Andy’s dress is “just this side of slut” which makes me spit water out my nose just a little. Andy follows up with, “I’ve translated Central Park in to Mi Ling the head waitress at the Sea House who does happy endings.” Well, if the shoe fits…

Day 2 in the Workroom!!!

Gretchen is wearing amazing Comme des Garcons shoes. Mondo decides to ditch the sequins and Tim is fully in favor of the ditching. (Me not so much, I wanted to see them sparkle in the runway lights.) Tim talked to April about her strength in editing and warns Andy not to be slutty or “Real Housewife of New Jersey like”. Gretchen is struggling and feels like she really needs this critique. Tim, always the professional, reminds her to think of her customer and then they hug and make up and become BFFs for life. Well, at least that’s what Gretchen feels. Deep down I know Tim Gunn is still made at her for bullying other designers and pissing him off so much he lost his cool. Yeah we haven’t forgotten…

Tim then brings in the Head Hair Honcho from Garnier to help them with their complete looks. Then follows what might be the funniest thing all season. Okay, so I get it. I get that this show is all about product placement and Ads. There is the Piperlime Accessories Wall, they made clothes for Heidi’s New Balance line… I get it. So Michael takes his model to meet with the Hair Guru and tells him he wants high fashion. He wants couture hair. Which in my mind makes me think of something like this… So what does the Hair Genie do? He pulls out his Garnier Hair Spray and sprays her long hair with 1.5 seconds of hair spray and then Michael goes bananas and is all, “Oh, I love it already!” Damn these Garnier products are amazing!!!

Runway Day!!!

Heidi looks like a sexy J Crew Secretary and our guest judge is Christian Siriano, winner of season 4.

Michael: Don’t get me wrong, I think his dress is very nice. It’s nice, but boring. I know Heidi will be all over that high slit and the back is totally sexy, but I feel like I could make this dress in about 4 hours which means an actual designer should be able to bust this baby out in like 40 minutes. I don’t see the innovation or really the design. The judges absolutely love it. Kors says, “You wanted a show stopper and you got a show stopper.” They say it’s, “effortless Hollywood” and Heidi wants to change into it right there on the runway. So in what might be the upset from the season, Michael is on to Fashion Week. (Oh, and can we all just smile to ourselves because the model has a back fat roll. Yeah, it's tiny, but it's there.)

Gretchen: When her look is walking down the runway she says, “It doesn’t look very high fashion” and I completely agree. It looks a little Kohls to me. I wish the jacket closed more and skirt was shorter. I feel like she should have done more. They had 500 dollars and two days, this looks should be detailed and beautifully crafted and it just isn’t. Remember the Jackie O challenge when she beaded that dress. That was beautiful, this… not so much. Oh and how is this LES? The judges agree. They say she has lost her steam and everyone wonders where her impeccable styling skills went. Christian tries to be nice and says he likes that it’s wearable, but the other judges almost think it’s too wearable. They all know she can do much better than this and she also is sent to Fashion Week.

Mondo: How F-ing adorable is this dress??? I mean just give him his 100,000 dollars already and can go to bed early on Thursdays. Again, his patterns and textures are different, yet work together perfectly. I can’t wait to see this man’s full collection. The judges love it, and Kors brings up the good point that this dress is still very ”Mondo”, but not colorful. Color is not a clutch for him. Mondo is easily on to Fashion Week.

Andy: I don’t hate this like I thought I might. I think it is styled beautifully and it does look cool under the lights because it does look wet or shinny like tar. The back is very architectural and fun. My only worry about Andy is that his line for Fashion Week with be black and dark and depressing. The judges feel the same way and they think he needs to get away from the future warrior girl thing. No one thinks the dress is Central Park, but I guess that doesn’t matter if they like it. Heidi really likes the lines on the dress because they make the model’s body look longer. Nina calls it the “perfect little black dress for a edgy girl.” Andy is through to Fashion Week.

April: This leaves April the young’in. Yes, the top is very cool, but it’s the same top she has used on every design all season long. I think even Peach would be sick of it at this time. I also think that Christian will love this dress and help her move on to Fashion Week as well. Kors quickly calls her out for making the same look every challenge and making her model look like a pregnant witch. Christian likes it, but wonders who her client is and where they are going. They all think its costume-y. Sadly April is the only designer not on her way to Fashion Week. So long April.

Next Time on Project Runway… Tim’s trip to the designer’s homes. The evil black bag makes an appearance, and we learn that only three will actually get to show the collection they’ve been working so hard on. See you then!

The iPhone, Oregon Trail, and My Unborn Children...

I used to kid LSU Friend that when she purchased her iPhone two years ago she became a better friend. We always knew the closest Happy Hour, we always had directions, and the “Free Ap of the Day” saved us from boredom while stuck in traffic many times. Her iPhone made her way cooler. I have had my iPhone since May and I’m pretty sure Boyfriend thinks I’m a way cooler girlfriend for having forked over my hard earned money to Steve Jobs.

Reason Why My iPhone Rocks (to boyfriend that is…)

Oregon Trail. Boyfriend and I just over 6 years apart, him being 6 years older, and I don’t think of him as an “old guy” or ancient by any definition of that word. We try not to talk about “what we were doing” when certain movies came out or music was popular because then this conversation happens…

Me: “Wow, I used to love that Puff Daddy song, Mo Money!”
Boyfriend: “Me too! I remember when it came out it was always on our mix CDs we played at Frat Parties.” (Okay he’s never said “mixed CDs at Frat Parties” but you get the picture… He was in college when that song was popular.) “Why are you giving me that look?”
Me: “You were in college?”
Boyfriend: “Yeah…”
Me: “I was in middle school.”
Boyfriend: “Um… yeah…”
Me: “Let’s talk about something else…”
Boyfriend: “Fast.”

But I was talking about Oregon Trail. So, about two weeks ago a co-worker told me I have to get the Oregon Trail Ap because (her words) “It’s AWESOME.” Okay, I’ll download it right now. But wait!!! Oregon Trail is so wicked awesome that I can’t just download it, but I have to be connected to my computer because the file is so big. Yeah, it’s that awesome.

Oregon Trail is nostalgic love for me. Like every time I hear the name I’m back in third grade begging a classmate to let me go hunting for them, because it didn’t matter if they had a huge stock pile of food, if you were given the opportunity to hunt buffalo you fucking hunted the shit out of those buffalo. Then you saw, “You killed 3,974 lbs of meat, but could only carry 17 lbs back to the wagon” flash on the computer screen and for a second you felt bad for the buffalo and the Indians and nature and whatnot, but by then it was time to ford the river and you forgot all about the plight of the noble buffalo. Oregon Trail was the coolest thing about computers back in the day. Yes the whole game was in black and bright green. Yes you could barely read the map because of the crappy 1991 computer screens, but you still begged your teacher to let you play.

That is, I begged my teachers to let me play. Boyfriend never had computers in school and thus never got to play the awesome game that is Oregon Trail. So, I downloaded it about two weeks ago and tried to explain the concept and game to Boyfriend. He quickly thought I was stupid for thinking a game about moving across the country was fun and exciting and quickly stopped listening to me. That is until I got to the part where you get to name your Wagon Party.

Me: “You think I’m stupid. Fine. You don’t get to be my husband. I’ll name my husband Vince Young.”
Boyfriend: “Wait. No. I wanna be on the wagon with you.”
Me: “Then say it isn’t stupid, or me and Vince will leave you behind in Independence, Missouri.”
Boyfriend: “It’s not stupid. Now put me on the wagon.”

So, Boyfriend became my travel mate to Oregon, then came the question of our children.

Me: “What are our children’s names? … Hello? Boyfriend, our kids… they need names…”
Boyfriend: “Dude, this is a very important decision. You can’t rush me when picking our children’s names.”
Me: “Remember this is just for a game.”
Boyfriend: “Well the first one is defiantly a boy. Name him Art.”

This kinda goes without saying as we have decided if we ever have a kid (which is so not in the plan) and it’s a boy, his name will be Art after Boyfriend’s grandfather, Art (Author).

Me: “Okay, child number one is Art.”
Boyfriend: “Well if we have an Art, we should probably honor your side of the family and have a Norl as well.”

That’s right. Boyfriend wants to honor my grandfather and have him be our second child in an iPhone game about traveling to Oregon. Hopefully he won’t get Dysentery and die.

Me: “Shouldn’t the last kid be a girl?”
Boyfriend: “I don’t think so. We need a real manly man name for the baby of the family.”

And then we sat silent on the couch for a good five minutes trying to think up a manly name for our fictional child in a game I just downloaded to my phone.

Boyfriend: “Well, I think it’s pretty obvious. Name kid number three Pedro.”

Yeah, that’s right. Our first two fictional children we named after the fathers of our mothers, and our third darling kiddo, well he was named after our plant.

Meet Pedro.

Two hours later when I finally reached Oregon Boyfriend was alive but had a bad fever, I had a broken leg, Art was grabbed and taken away by an eagle (yeah, that was new to me too), Norl got lost and was never seen again, and Pedro was in perfect health.