Questions, Answers, and Saved By The Bell...

And now Lemon Lady presents a Q&A…

Question – WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN???
Answer – Um, I wish I could say I’ve been climbing Mount Kilimanjaro or curing cancer, but in all reality I’ve been at home mostly.

Question – Then why haven’t you been blogging embarrassing stories and whatnot?
Answer – Well, mostly because I changed jobs and I am no longer doing the job of a retarded hamster, so I don’t have 4 free hours a day to randomly write about giving my doctor a bloody or breaking my foot at a water park.

Question – “Retarded Hamster”?
Answer – That’s not a question, but I thought that would make my sister laugh. You see there is this whole funny story about me learning to read and hamsters and well… it’s funny, but it’s hard writing funny and embarrassing stories from when I was 5.

Question – So where are you writing now?
Answer – In the comfort of my own home, which if I can be honest, is a little weird. I’m used it leaning back in my big important chair with my feet propped up on my computer under the desk in my fancy office with the maroon accent wall and spending hours penning my blog master pieces. Instead last night and tonight I’m at my tiny kitchen table typing on my tiny laptop that is made for midget (excuse me “little people”) hands meaning I have to stop every few words and make sure I type “give” instead of “hubr” because the keys are so close together. I also can’t keep my head down and focused because my dog is jumping on and off the couch – something he is ubber proud of considering he just learned how to do this last Sunday.

Question – Speaking of the dog, how is the dog?
Answer – He is AMAZING. Seriously, Boyfriend and I wonder how we got so lucky. Which I know is something creepy pageant mothers say on Toddlers and Tiaras, but really y’all… our dog is so freaking cool.

Question – You were on like a month and a half hiatus and all you can say is, “I got a new job”?
Answer – Well, I got a new job, I quit my old job, I went to Tom Bean, TX to spend Easter and the week after with Boyfriend’s Sister and Mom, my parents came in town one weekend… Yes, I’ve been neglecting my blog. Make me feel bad about it why don’t ya.

Question – Sorry. Don’t get all defensive. Have you been writing? Are you going back to the 3-4 posts a week? What TV shows are you going to watch this summer, write five recaps and then stop mid-season because you suck?
Answer – Yes, I have been writing. I haven’t been blogging, but I do have those Brian Griffin novel ideas, that at some point I would like to put to paper. I don’t know exactly what will be my blog writing schedule from not on. Glee is over for the summer, so my Tuesdays are free, but I’m starting Kick Ball next month so Thursday posts are probably not going to happen. My guess is it will be just as sporadic as ever. I don’t know if I will recap anything any time soon. I thought about doing a Real Housewives recap, but the folks over at Vulture do such a good job that I’m pretty sure I would just steal all their jokes until about half way through the season when I’m so over hearing about Ramona’s Pinot Grigio habit and my eyes hurt from the 5 tons of turquoise jewelry LuAnn wears to every party that I would just cut and paste their recaps onto my blog. Then six months later I would blame the poor public education system in this country that didn’t properly teach me plagiarism.

Question – You look like you really want to say some something, what’s up?
Answer- Okay so, today when I was driving to work Mark Paul Gosselaar (AKA Zack Morris) was on the radio promoting his new TNT show Franklin & Bash. After talking for a few minutes and playing a round of Family Feud or something, they finally got down to the good stuff… Saved By The Bell. Mark Paul told me that his favorite Saved By The Bell episode was the one with Becky the duck. You know, the one where they discover oil under the Bayside football field and everyone thinks they’re going to be the richest school ever and not have to do homework and whatnot, but then there is an oil spill and oil gets into the pond where Zack’s biology class had just let their pet ducks and fish and turtles and newts go. SPOILER ALERT! It didn’t go well for the animals and they all died. So then, when the big oil company executive (who of course is wearing a cowboy belt buckle because aren’t all oil execs from Texas?) comes to the school to pitch his awesome ideas for new computers and books and better facilities, Zack and the gang cock block all the future students at Bayside High by telling Mr. Big Oil Executive that they don’t want a new football stadium or better cafeteria or awesome science lab because you killed Becky the Duck. Bastard! For Becky! And then the episode ends in a paused 6 way high five. Yeah… that was a great episode…

He also said that the one that he hates to this day is not the “I’m so excited, I’m so scared” episode, but the one where they all had to do family research projects and he finds out that he’s like 1/64th Native American so he shows up to class in a giant Indian head dress and deer skin pants and moccasins as “Running Zack” (which might be the dumbest Indian name ever) Mark Paul was talking about how he was so embarrassed and even to this day he won’t go gamble on Reservations because he doesn’t want anyone bringing that episode up in conversation.

Question – Do you feel better now?
Answer- Yes.

Question – Zack or Slater?
Answer – Zach always. In fact I had the Saved By The Bell board game where if you won you got to go on a date to the Max with either Zack or Slater. I always picked Zack.

Question – What are your thoughts on Saved By The Bell The College Years?
Answer – I’m pretty neutral. I mean I don’t love them like the original episodes, but I don’t hate them. They are kinda like the Tori episodes that just randomly happen in the middle of senior year. I’m all, “meh”. I do have a problem with Bob Golic’s character, Michael “Mike” Rogers. He was the ex-football player who was like 35 and living in the dorms with all the freshmen. Even as a twelve year old I knew this wasn’t right. Creep, not right. I know the show needed an older character to replace Belding, but I think a Mr. feeny-like character would have worked better. You know Belding could have followed all the kids to college and been a counselor or something.

Question – It certainly sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into the these answers about Saved By The Bell.
Answer – I blame the questions.

Question – DON’T BLAME THE QUESTIONS!
(insert FRIENDS laugh track here)

Question – Moving on… Do you have any good blog post ideas in mind for future posts?
Answer – Oh, you mean for posts when I’m not answering random questions that I made up? Yes, I’ve got some great ideas involving cupcakes (the food not the person), wild pigs, and Google Maps.

Question – Google Maps? You might be a bigger nerd than I feared?
Answer – Wait, but you’re not real.

Question – You’re typing like I am.
Answer – Fuck.

A Welcome Back to Me and Another Cockroach Story

Last Friday Cupcake graduated from College. For the second time.

Congratulations on your Master Degree in Nursing Cupcake!

While Friday was spend celebrating Cupcake’s big achievement and drinking multiple margarita’s from the fun frozen margarita machine, Saturday was all about dinner and a movie. Cupcake, LSU Friend, and myself decided to meet for a nice dinner then brave the Saturday night movie crowd and go see Bridesmaids. Cupcake had pigged out on some guac earlier that day and I was completely indifferent, so LSU Friend had the honors of picking our restaurant. So, for once in our lives, we weren’t going to head to a local Mexican food place and drown ourselves in queso, but drive over to a local Indian food restaurant that LSU Friend swore up and down was yummy.

So we went.

Thoughts on Indian Food…
1. I’m not all that into Indian food. I don’t hate it, but I also don’t love it. It’s like this… why would anyone eat Indian if they could have Mexican? But, I think that about a lot of genres of food.

2. Cupcake is an EXTREMLY picky eater! My whole life I thought being an “extremely picky eater” just meant that you would not only HATE Norwegian food, but also turn into a huge brat if ever forced to eat it. (Yeah, maybe one day I’ll write about that story Favorite Cousin…) So, I was totally unprepared when I became friends with Cupcake. She’s a “selectatarian”. AKA a really picky eater. She doesn’t really eat meat… unless she wants to. And, then you (or whoever is preparing the meat) HAS TO COOK THE SHIT OUT OF IT. Nothing can be slightly under cooked or she literally can’t choke it down. Once, when I first met her, a few of us girls were cooking and she practically dissected the chicken breast to make sure no red veins or blood was left anywhere and then stood over the chicken while it was being cooked just in case the dead, sautéing chicken just started bleeding in the pan. Then she over cooked it five minutes and deemed it ready to eat. Also, she doesn’t really like “hole in the wall” kinda places. This absolutely makes my heart hurt, because to me there is nothing better than a steaming plate full of enchiladas from some random shack where the wait staff doesn’t speak English. Cupcake doesn’t like not knowing if the beans are vegetarian or not. All in all, I was shocked that Cupcake was even going to venture into the Indian food establishment. (By the way I adore Cupcake and all her little quirks.)

So, the three of us load up into LSU Friend’s car, Leroy, and drive the 3.5 minutes to Bombay Bistro for what the website and menus call, “modern Indian cuisine”.

When we enter Bombay Bistro, it is plainly obvious that is used to be Henry’s Hunan and six months before that it was Ancient Golden Dragon and six months before that China Pearl, but whatever. We took our seats on the wall, so that LSU Friend and I were sitting on a bench with our backs to the wall and Cupcake sat across from us in a normal chair. Next to us, shoved up against the table was a short divider which I guess was there to give us a little privacy from the table next to us. Everything starts out okay. I order my overpriced glass of wine, LSU Friend tells us what she has had there that is good, and Cupcake tells us about what happened at her grad party after we left the night before. Normal going out to eat things…

Me: “New job, new job” wine sip “new job”
LSU Friend: “Job, should I get a new job, job” wine sip “best friend getting married”
Cupcake: “Africa, new job, graduating… Eeck!”

Yes, readers, the nights shenanigans all began with a little “eeck”

The “eeck” was caused by a little cockroach climbing up the divider that hugged our table.

What followed was about ten seconds of absolute silence, wherein I (and I’m sure LSU Friend and Cupcake) had a litter internal dialogue with myself…

To Myself: “Okay. That’s gross. Wait. It’s still climbing. What do we do with it? Should I kill it? What am I going to kill it with? OMG, this is unfortunate.”

LSU Friend to Herself: “Well, shit. I finally get us to a restaurant that isn’t Chuy’s or Z-Tejas and this is what happens? Cupcake is going to freak out.”

Cupcake: “Oh, eeck, okay. This isn’t okay, but I’m going to Africa in a week and a half and I’m going to have to deal with bugs over there. Oh, but… oh, this is icky.”

Then Cupcake, like the awesome badass that she is, plucked our unlit candle off the table, and using the candle cup trapped the baby cockroach in the jar.

Me: “Yay Cupcake!”
LSU Friend: “Great, but , um… now what?”

Now what indeed? Cupcake had successfully trapped the little booger, but the roach is still alive and Cupcake can’t spend our entire diner with her hand holding a candle jar on the wall. So, she slowly slides the jar down the wall divider and secures the jar by leaning the cup with sugar against it, just in case that baby cockroach was part He Man and able to lift the decorative candle holder and escape. Success!

We then spent the next few minutes convincing ourselves that it was one lone cockroach and anywhere else we go is going have an hour and a half wait because it’s graduating weekend, so we might as well stay put and eat our Curry and Puho.

Then Cupcake goes to the bathroom, because she has the world’s tiniest bladder ever, and sees another bug. Here exact words were, “So, I saw our friend’s brother in the bathroom.”

By this time we have decided we should get rid of bug number 1, who is still trapped under the candle jar.

Cupcake: (leaning around the divider where there are two busboys and either a waitress or a manager cleaning off a table) “Excuse me Ma’am?”

Nothing

Cupcake: “Ma’am?”

Nothing

Cupcake: “Excuse me?”

Nothing

Cupcake: “Excuse me Ma’am”

Restaurant Woman: “What?!?! I’ll be with you in a second!”

Cupcake: “oh… okay.”

So now we’ve seen two cockroaches, trapped one, and Cupcake “AKA the nicest person in the world” has been snapped at for wondering, maybe, if it wouldn’t be too much to ask or too much trouble for the wait staff to kindly REMOVE THE COCKROACH from under the candle jar on our table. K, thanks.

Then our food comes out.

Here is where I’m sure most of y’all are all, “Why is Lemon Lady and her friends still sitting in this place and why oh why are they going to eat there?” I can only answer this question by of course blaming Cupcake. I blame Cupcake because she is our friend that gets grossed out by normal things like fat being on chicken and beans cooked oh so yummy in lard. She should have been jumping up from her seat and running out to the car, but instead she was just sitting there. It was like in my mind if Cupcake isn’t freaked out and if Cupcake can handle a few bugs, so can I. Then again, she also ate before we got there.

So the food is on the table and we start eating.

Cupcake: “Eeck!”

Me: (Throwing up in my mouth just a little bit) “Oh God… what?”
LSU Friend: (Spitting food in her napkin) “Oh crap… where?”
Cupcake: (Pointing) “Behind you. On the wall.”

Yup, there was brother number 3. He was crawling up the wall about three feet from my head.

Me: “Gross. It’s going to jump on my head.”

LSU Friend: “Lean on me friend.”

Cupcake: “Sir. SIR! We need help over here!”

Now, y’all tell me. What would you do if you were the owners of a restaurant where a nice group of young ladies kept seeing cockroaches everywhere? Maybe you would apologies. Maybe you could comp their ridiculous eight dollar glasses of cheap gas station wine. Let me tell you what I would not do, SEND MORE FOOD! Yeah, just in case we had forgotten if we had completely lost our appetites due to the infestation of disease carrying bugs the thoughtful management at Bombay Bistro sent over a free dessert. Oh, and it was gross. Like really gross.

Moral of this story, once every few years or so I get a great cockroach story while hanging with LSU Friend.

Oh, and Bridesmaids was really funny.

Bumper Stickers Are To Tattoos As ______ Is To Flying Toaster Octopus?

Yesterday I was walking to my car and I noticed these two bumper stickers stuck to the rear end of an old, white, Saturn in my work’s parking garage.
I actually noticed the one that just says “Twilight” before the other. My first thought was, “Oh is there a 14 year girl working here?” which gave way to, “I didn’t know this was also the parking lot for Hot Topic.” But, it’s the other that I think is truly horrible. “I drive like a Cullen”. Really old, white, Saturn? Why not have a bumper sticker that says, “I drive like a glittery virgin” or maybe “I drive fast so teenage girls think I’m dangerous and I’m creepily over protective of my girlfriend so teenage girl’s dads think I’m dangerous”.

Then I got to thinking about my own car how I have no bumper stickers on Yolanda’s (my car’s name) bumper. See I have this theory that bumper stickers are like tattoos, I’ve always kinda wanted one but I could never commit to something that permanent. Also lots of people have them on their cars but I only like maybe 15% of the ones I see.

So, now I have to wonder if the driver of that old, white, Saturn is this lady.

So let’s dig deeper into this comparison.

Case 1: The Funny Bumper Sticker
I like this. Every time I see this stuck to some Jetta or Civic I smile. This is one of those bumper stickers that I might buy if I was randomly looking at one of those displays of bumper stickers that rotate near the register of some local store if I had just come from happy hour and thus okay with spending 8 dollars on a sticker I know I’m not actually going to stick anywhere. If I was a teenage girl and if all my furniture growing up wasn’t antiques I would stick it to my bedroom’s vanity mirror. It’s funny. So is this guy’s tattoo… I like Harry Potter and I like old school Nintendo and Mario Brothers. Plus the fact that Mario is dressed in the raccoon suit is awesome because if you’re playing Mario 3 you totally want that raccoon suit. But, just like “Republicans Vote for Voldemort” I’m not permanently attaching an Italian dude dressed like a raccoon to my neck… or my car.

Case 2: The Long Worded Bumper Sticker
I get it. Whoever would put this on their car is trying to be funny or maybe ironic, but then again I don’t get it. Because after the first line I’ve stopped reading and I’ve moved on with my life and gone back to watching the street while driving and because it wasn’t funny or mean or sad or just really random I’ve completely forgot about your bumper sticker. So what’s the point?

I about died when I saw this tattoo because unlike the bumper sticker above, I will never forget this tattoo. So many things come to mine when I see this.

One, YOU CAN’T HAVE A BIBLE VERSE AS A TRAMP STAMP!!! I mean I get that I’m not the most religious person out there, but even I know that God and Jesus and Elizabeth Taylor aren’t going to just step aside and let you into Heaven when you are standing outside the pearly gates because you turn around, lift up your Abercrombie shirt, pull your Juicy sweatpants down, and bend over. FAIL.

Two, this is the Bible verse I (and every other little sister) had to read at my sister’s wedding (and ever other sister’s wedding). I happen to be horrible at reading out loud. I always read to fast and skip words or make up words and pronounce other words incorrectly. I hate doing it. So, of course my sister tells me the day before her wedding that I have to stand up in front of all her guests and then read this particular verse. On the day of the wedding I panic midway through and completely lose my place in the passage and skip/make up half the “loves is…” of 1 Corinthians 13.

Three, who actually reads this tattoo in its entirety? If someone comes up to me and wants to show me their tattoo and it turns out to be this, I’d be all, “Love is Patient. Love is kin… oh that’s a cool tattoo I guess…” Your body is not a Kindle. Cut it down in size people. Besides couldn't this girl have saved a whole lot of money, space on her body, and vastly reduces the amount of pain she went through by just getting 1 Corinthians 13 tattooed instead of the whole verse?

Case 3: Being Scary
Here we have a little difference between the bumper sticker and the tattoos. The bumper sticker just announces to the world and other highway travelers that yes, you should be freaked by the presences of my monster truck because yes, I am terrifying. While the tattoos are just that… terrifying.
(I don’t think this one needs more explanations…)

Case 4: Drinking is AWESOME Bumper Stickers
Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE DRINKING. Give me the option between and fresh healthy smoothie and a giant 3000 calorie Margarita and I’ll take that tequila concoction any day. But, drinking and driving… not so awesome. Can you just imagine having this sticker on the back of your car and pulling up at a red light between a car with a MADD bumper sticker and one of those white crosses covered with fake flowers on the side of the road. Wouldn’t you feel like a jack ass?

You know what else isn’t cool. Drinking and tattooing.
Girl readers, have you ever done your make up a little buzzed then gone out and someone took your photo only to past it on Facebook the next day? Then when you look at it and right before you “untag” yourself you have to wonder why you ever thought fake eyelashes were a good idea and who talked you into the bright pink sparkly lipstick? Up that feeling like by 1000 when you drink and tattoo.

Case 5: All Over Bumper Stickers
Just like when I’m stuck in crazy, rush hour traffic I want to be behind this car, if the second coming of the Great Depression happens I want to be stuck behind this guy in the five hour line for apples and bread.

Case 6: Stupid, Dumb, and the WFT Bumper Sticker
Sometimes words aren't needed. What more can I add to a bumper sticker that says "vagina full of centipedes"? Just like what more can I say about this tattoo...

Oh, and this is the only thing I have on my car. I figure because it’s silver and shinny it’s more like jewelry than a tattoo…

Because One West Side Story Post Just Isn't Enough and KILLER CUPCAKE!!!

Yesterday I wrote about my trip to the theatre with LSU Friend and Cupcake to see West Side Story and posted this photo.

It was taken with my old iPhone that has no flash.

This photo was taken with Cupcake’s newer iPhone that has a flash.


As I was writing the post yesterday I texted Cupcake asking her to send me the photo taken on her camera because I knew it turned out better and readers; I only want the best for you. Well, being that Cupcake actually has a life at work being and nurse and finishing grad school and whatnot she didn’t get around to sending it to me until last night. I then get the following text messages from LSU Friend.

(I’m the sane one writing in green.)
Yeah… what???

Oh, and can we go back to the picture for a second. This is the photo LSU Friend is thinks is cute enough to thank me for sending it to her (even though really Cupcake did) by using some weird, 5 year old, Baton Rouge dialect of English. LSU Friend and I are staring at something off to the side and Cupcake, sitting front and center, looks like she is half alien with her evil green eyes and she might just jump out of the picture and devour you whole with her EXTREMELY white teeth. Nom. Nom. Nom.

Apologies and Photos Of Shoes, Bacon Alcohol, and Jorts...

Yeah, yeah, yeah… bad Lemon Lady. Bad blogger. I get it.

Moving on…

My iPhone's Photo Album: Round 2
(see Round 1 HERE)

A few weeks ago Cupcake, LSU Friend and I went to go see West Side Story at UT’s Bass Concert Hall. After chugging the last of our wine from dinner, we raced from the car, ran across three blocks of campus, stopped momentarily at the doors to have our tickets scanned and gawk at a woman who wore an acid washed denim vest with acid washed denim jeans and high top sneakers to the theatre, and then climbed four flights of stairs to our cheap seats up top. Completely out of oxygen (was it scaling the numerous steps or the extreme altitude of being so high up in the audience) and panting, we took our seats just as the curtain was lifted up and the Sharks and Jets started “fighting”.

Can I pause just a moment here to talk about West Side Story in general… I’ll be honest, it wasn’t my favorite. Somehow the act of dancing around and snapping just didn’t do it for me. This coming from a girl who LOVES Starlight Express so much I posted a video of it a few weeks back. I mean I totally believe those British actors on roller skates are trains. I do not, however, believe that sashaying around and executing perfect double turns equals gang fighting in New York. Sorry, but I just don’t buy it. Also, do you think that part of the audition is being able to snap? Like do you think all the actors have to perform a perfect split leap arabesque, sing a solo like… well insert famous Broadway actor here, and then stand in the middle of an empty stage and snap to the lone director in an empty theatre. “What? You can perform fortes all night but can’t snap? Get out of my sight!” Reason 4,528 why I want a new iPhone - better camera with a flash!

The earliest Halloween I can remember my mom dressed my up as Rainbow Bright. I found these shoes at DSW in case I ever want to create and adult version of that look.

And just because I have the coolest, greatest, most awesome dog ever…

This past weekend was all about Blood Marys. It started on Saturday when Boyfriend and I tried out Haddingtons on West 6th. They call themselves an “American Tavern with a British influence”. I could care less what pretentious title they give themselves because they have the mixologist from Fino, Bill Norris. His Bloody was light and smooth and crammed full of flavor. According to our waitress, who was very good, they create their own tomato juice daily. This place defiantly has made my top five Bloody Marys in Austin.

On Sunday I left Boyfriend at home to reseed the back yard and watch the dog, while I headed out with LSU Friend and Lil Blount to continue the Bloody round of Austin. Our first stop was Franks. Housed in the old Starlight building on 4th street the waitress from Haddingtons actually told me the day before that if I was in search of the best Bloody in town I needed to try Franks. Thank you random person I had never met before because OMG Franks Bloody Mary is a true glass of sunshine, rainbows, and designer shoes. I mean look at it. It’s called the Redheaded Stranger and we are strangers no longer. Made with bacon infused Dripping Springs Vodka (in my mind much better than Titos), their own Bloody mix, bacon, cheddar cheese, and comes with a Pearl Beer chaser. Oh, and did I mention that this giant glass of adult Heaven was half off… yeah it was.

Round two on Sunday Bar Chi, a Sushi Bar on Colorado St. It was made with Sake, which is what caught our eyes on the menu outside the restaurant. It was good, don’t get me wrong, but after Franks “infused with Bacon and probably Jesus tears” Bloody… well it was a lot to live up to. But, we sat outside on a nice patio so it was worth the stop. The Bloody Mary was on the small side, but it was also only 4 dollars.

The third Bloody of the day is one of my favorites in Austin. It is the Voodoo Queen from Reds Porch. Made from jalapeño pepper infused vodka and their own in house made mix it is SPICY! Spicy and delicious.

Then I had something called a Southern Peach which was alcohol, alcohol, more alcohol, and a splash of something peach. (Probably peach alcohol) Then I stopped drinking and started dreaming of a nap.

Oh, and while we were there we saw this guy in his AMAZING jorts.

Embarrassing Burned Boob Story: Round Two...

Do y’all remember the story I wrote a while back about burning my left boob with my curling iron and then hanging out with my new boyfriend instead of going to the hospital? Well I always meant to write a second chapter to that tale…

When I was a freshman in college I lived with Wesley and he had a friend named Chris who would come over and hang out at the house. One day Wesley, Chris, Kenny, Robby, and I all went to Jims for breakfast. (Jims being a local 24 hour diner) It was right after Wesley and I began living together so it was nice and hot in the Texas heat and I was wearing a little halter top and shorts.

Anyway, we were seated in a round booth and after we all ordered our food I noticed Chris kept staring at my chest. After a few minutes I totally called him out on it.

Me: “Chris! Stop staring at my boobs!”

Everyone else at the table: “Hahahahahahah!!!”

Chris (turning very red): “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I really am sorry, but are you okay?”

Me: “I’d be a lot better if I knew I could eat in peace without having you droll over my lady lumps.”

Chris: “No, really… What happened?”

Me: “What do you mean what happened? Stop leering at me, man.”

Chris: “Are you okay? (Pointing at my left boob) There I mean. Are you okay?”

Me (looking down): “Oh! You mean my scar?”

Chris: “It looks pretty bad. Did you hurt yourself?”

Wesley: “You never heard the story of Lemon Lady’s scarred boobie?”

Chris: “No. What happened?”

Wesley: “Well this one day in Ger…”

Me: “I HAD A BREAST IMPLANT!”

Wesley, Robby, and Kenny: “snicker snicker…”

Chris: “Oh… wait. Breast implant? Breast? Singular? As in only one?”

Me: “Yes, my left tata just never grew like the other so as a graduation gift my parents paid for me to get one implant to even things out.”

Wesley: “Yeah, and man, she’s kinda self conscience about it, so stop staring and bring it up.”

Chris: “Oh, Lemon Lady. I’m so sorry. I mean I never knew. No one told me. (turning to the other boys) You guys should have told me!”

Three years later when I lived in Austin and that same group of people came to see me and go out downtown, we finally let Chris in on the fact that no, I didn’t have one boob implant and both my breasts are natural. He got angry and threatened to leave the bar unless we fed him large amounts of vodka. We obliged.

I Might Be Going To Hell For Laughing At This...

Who here reading this has never laughed at something inappropriate? If you raised your hand or said, “Well Lemon Lady I have never laughed at anything inappropriate, not even a good Helen Keller joke” please stop reading this.

Moving on…

Who here watched the friendly soccer match between USA and Argentina on Saturday? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Well y’all missed out on a very aggressive USA tying with a pretty slow (for them) Argentina. Opps… sorry if you had it DVRed…

However before the game even started, this happened…

BAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHA……

That’s right world. Welcome to New Jersey. Welcome to land of “that guy”. And, you thought “that guy” of this match would have been the really drunk dude in the 4th row wearing the red, white, and blue Jester’s hat with nothing but a blue thong and some very strategically placed glittery star stickers, but no. “That Guy” that “that New Jersey that guy” was upstaged and out “that guyed” by “incredibly offensive moment of silence ruin-er”. Touché New Jersey…

What Annoys Me and What Makes Me Happy...

You know what really annoys me… Okay that’s an extremely loaded question, let me try again… You know what is really annoying me right this minute? People who are barely older than you acting like your this adorable little child who will never know what it’s like to be 27 and a half and all the hardships that particular age brings and if (bless my heart) I’m ever able to make it to that ancient age it will never be as hard for me as it is for them because of the most random factors ever! Am I making any since? Let me explain further…

27.5 Year Old Person (talking to me): You’re 26! Awww… I remember being 26…

Me (to myself): I would hope so. I mean that was only 18 months ago. You remember September 2009… right?

27.5 Year Old Person (still talking to yours truly): Wow… 26… so long ago…

Me (out loud now): Yeah, but it really wasn’t that long ago if you think about it Taylor Swift’s Love Story was a chart topper and I still can’t get that song out of my head. You know what else was happening… conflict in the middle east, global warming, and baseball season coming to an end. It’s not like when you were 26 Rosie the Riveter was calling for you to get excited about factor work or the vacuum cleaner was invented or Jesus was crucified!!! No I have bottles of nail polish older than a year a half. NOT THAT MUCH HAS CHANGED!!!

27.5 Year Old Person: You just don’t understand because you’re a little too young. But someday soon you will…

Me: (::headdesk::)

Now, I’m not saying I don’t look at my little cousins and think, “Wow they are so big and grown up” or Best Friend’s little sister and tell her, “I remember when you were in first grade and we were dressing you up like the Disney character Mulan”, but I would never patronize a 25 year old because she just can’t understand the hardships and crazy maturity level people reach when they become 26.

You know what also really annoys me… having to buy a car when I don’t want to buy a car. So, like I said earlier this week, my car was stolen from outside my house on Monday night or in the wee hours of Tuesday morning. According to my insurance (the oh so chipper Angela) the Cops get two weeks to recover the car or I’m SOL and they give me a check to go buy another car. Yeah, Angela, I know about those checks… you know why? Because I got one of those check exactly 2 years ago when my Mazda 3 (color – winning blue) was totaled by a hail storm! That car was my graduation gift from my parents and had been paid off for exactly two months, meaning I didn’t want a new car. I liked that car and didn’t want to have to buy a new car, just like right now. I liked my Tribute and I don’t want to have to buy another car. Just once I’d like to have a car that I pay off and drive for 7 to 10 more years and then after researching and thinking it over and test driving my options over a long period of time I would enjoy the fun of buying a new car. But no, if they don’t find Yolanda (that was my Tribute’s name) I’ll get to make another rushed decision after trying to test drive every car in south Texas over a soggy Jason’s Deli sandwich with my dad.

(Time Out: Dad I love that you helped me pick out Yolanda and I’m crazy grateful that you will help me again. It’s not the spending time with you I hate, it’s the rush PICK A CAR NOW timing that I hate. Again, you’re awesome. Time In)

You know what I don’t hate…

Starlight Express Promo Videos on YouTube - because who don't like musicals about trains

And some behind the scenes...

Bargain Music's Wednesday which I've liked for while, but I LOVED the song after I over heard some guy singing and playing it on his Guitar at Barton Springs trying to con it off as his origional song to this chick that was with him. I think she was really into him as well, until I walked by and said, "Oh Bargain Music! I love them!" She gave the hippy guy with the guitar a mean look and walked away. My bad. So this song goes out to Random hippy guy at Barton Springs who uses other people's music to pick up girls in bikinis...

Great Dane puppy and a kitty...

Babies and Toddlers: Jerks and Bi-Polar??? You Decide...

As promised at the end of my slightly depressing post yesterday, today I want to talk about my sister and her two boys.

I spent 3 days up in the Dallas area with them last week and although it wasn’t the stress free, relaxing vacation I had planned (due to some family issues) I still had a ton of fun. That being said, I DON’T KNOW HOW MY SISTER DOESN’T GO CRAZY!!!

I have two nephews. The Mouse is will be three in June and Froggy is almost one month. Oh, and those are her nicknames not mine.

Froggy is adorable and cute, but honestly that’s all I can say right now. I mean he really isn’t even a person yet. He’s just this little sweet guy that curls up on your chest and gets angry if he is hungry and you don’t have boobs with milk for him to latch on to. I mean for all I know he could grow up to be a little jerk or worse… a hipster. Now, am I saying I think my new nephew is an A-Hole, of course I’m not. My sister and my brother in law are great people and good parents and I know they will do everything they can to mold their children in to delightful, model citizens. I am just saying that no matter how cute he is now… you just never know…

The Mouse is almost 3 and AWESOME. Awesome in a “I’m two and a half and I know I’m cute so when I’m a little snot you just need to deal with it because I’ll be awesome again real soon” way. I’ve written on this blog before about how I think that one of the reasons I don’t want kids is that I was never around children when I was growing up. After spending a few days with The Mouse part of me was absolutely exhausted and the other part of me was completely enthralled and very curious about why he is the way he is and why he does what he does. Seriously put ten two and a half year olds in a padded room with a few toys or Thomas The Train on the TV and I’ll happily watch them. Watch them like study them, not watch them like babysit them. Please, I DON’T babysit.

What amazes me the most is mood swings. It’s like the child is freaking bi-polar. Actually I take that back, maybe it’s just everyone that has been diagnosed as bi-polar are really just regressing back to a toddler state of mind. One minute The Mouse is chilling watching a Disney movie and the next minute he is crying and acting like his mom took away his favorite pink bear and made him watch it burn in the fireplace, he can never ever have milk again, and Dora the Bilingual and Totally Obnoxious Explorer (who for some reason is always surprised when that dumb fox in a mask shows up to steel something) will never be on TV again and also, she killed the family dog. Literally, it’s like one minute he’s happy as a clam and the next minute he realized he is a clam from Louis Carol’s Walrus and the Carpenter and he’s about to be eaten and oh crap his life is over because… HE HAS TO PUSH HIS CHAIR UP SO IT IS STANDING CORRECTLY!!! Or maybe because… HE HAS TO EAT HALF A BANANA BEFORE WE CAN GO TO THE PARK!!! I watched his little brain decide that crying and standing in time out and getting yelled at by his mother was easier and a better decision than taking 2.6 second out of his busy day of drinking milk, being read stories to, and building airplanes with fat Legos to stand a chair up. I’ve been reassured by my sister and by my mother that he isn’t really that idiotic and dumb, but just a two year old. I trust them right now, but I hope to see improvements when he turns three.

Okay, I just reread those last two paragraphs and let me restate that I do love my nephews unconditionally… I just hope they don’t become jerks and I hope they get smarter. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?

BTW, my sister has a great blog called The Froggy & The Mouse... check it out.

Back From The Dead: My Bad...

I’m sorry.


There I said it. I’m sorry for being MIA for so long. I know you don’t want excuses, so I promise to put them in blog posts starting today.

This morning my car was stolen.

Now, don’t you feel bad for wishing mean thought on me every time you hit up LemonsLemonsLemons and found no new posts?

What stresses me out the most about this whole bizarre kidnapping of my 2009 Mazda Tribute is the thought of maybe having to buy a new car. I don’t want a new car. I like my car. Her name is Yolanda and she is perfect for me and I don’t want to have to name a new vehicle. Her predecessor was my 2005 Mazda 3 (color = winning blue) was totaled in a hail storm. I didn’t want to have to buy a new car then, either.

On top of my car being stolen, George Michael hasn’t been feeling well. So not only are Boyfriend and I new parents, but we are completely clueless new parents. Boyfriend has been amazing though. I wish I had the energy today to write a long drawn out blog post about how when I put the dog to sleep he cries and cries and cries, but as soon as Boyfriend gets on his knees in front of George Michael’s kennel our sweet, adorable puppy comes back and Boyfriend slowly talks and pets him to sleep. Last night he was especially hyper because he hadn’t been feeling well until about 5PM that night so he slept ALL DAY meaning he wanted to play ALL NIGHT. At 1AM when he still wanted to play and was particularly angry about being shoved into his cage by yours truly because I just wanted to go to bed already, Boyfriend calmed him down by talking to him about all the family members who were super excited to meet him and how he and I had wanted him for so long and all the fun places we would take him when he got older. I love them both so much, but Boyfriend just a little bit more… just a little.

This post is meant to ease me back into writing and posting and making you laugh (although not much funny has been happening). I promise not to drop the ball again. Oh, and I promise to write this week about short time up at Sister’s house and want I think about my 2 and a half year old nephew…

Mumford & Sons and Tim Tebow: A Conversation...

A few months ago Boyfriend and I were watching the Grammy’s and in between wondering about Katy Perry’s angel wings and Cee Lo’s AMAZING red chicken costume, Boyfriend heard Mumford & Sons for the first time.

TV: “But I will hold on to hope… And I won’t let you choke… On the noose around your neck…”

Boyfriend: “Why is Tim Tebow on TV singing?”

Me: “That’s not Tim Tebow that’s the lead singer of Mumford & Sons.”

Boyfriend: “I’m pretty sure you’re wrong. That’s Tim Tebow.”

Me: “I’m pretty sure I’m not. That’s the dude from Mumford and Sons. That’s why he is playing music and not football on the TV at the Grammy’s and not Monday Night Football… But you're right, he does kinda look like Tim Tebow.”

Fast forward to last night

Boyfriend (singing in the shower): “But I will hold on to hope… And I won’t let you choke... On the noose around your neck…”

Me: “You know they sing other songs, right?”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, I YouTubed them all. Go look on the computer.”

And he wasn’t lying. My laptop was sitting open on the bed and YouTube was on the screen showing Mumford & Sons’ songs. So I played one that a friend had recommended on Facebook.

Boyfriend (out of the shower and in the bedroom now): “So you’re just hanging out in here watching Tim Tebow on the computer?”

Computer: “Align my heart, my body, my mind…To face what I’ve done and do my time…”

Me: “No I’m watching the hot, British, guitar playing Tim Tebow. There’s a difference.”

Boyfriend: “You think Tim Tebow is hot?”

Me: “No, again, hot, British, guitar playing Tim Tebow is hot. Religious, virgin, gator Tim Tebow equals not hot.”

Boyfriend: “So because he has a British accent he’s hot?”

Computer: “But it was not your fault but mine… and it was your heart on the line…”

Me: “The British accent ups his hotness by like two points. He gets another three for being in a band and playing the guitar and a bonus point for it being a good band and him being good at the guitar.”

Boyfriend: “So Tim Tebow doesn’t get any points for playing football?”

Me: “Not when he plays for stupid teams like Florida and Denver and especially not for stealing the Heisman from Colt.”

Boyfriend: “Good to know. How many extra points do pool men get?”

Boyfriend's favorite, The Cave

Listen To Your Body: Drugs, Spring Break, and a Not So Scary Cop...

About three weeks ago Cupcake finally convinced me to go with her to a yoga class. I’ve done a little yoga in the past. Very little. I few years ago I went to a couple of classes and then about 6 months ago I tried Bikram Yoga. I got very bored very quickly in both those classes. However, I’m very much enjoying Cupcake’s studio , Yoga Vida. They teach Vinyasa yoga, which is… well I’ll just copy and paste this from their website because they say it best…

“Vinyasa is a Sanskrit word meaning breath-synchronized movement; breath and movement are seamlessly united in such a way that one action encourages the other. We call our classes "flow" because of the flowing connection between the breath and the body, between one posture and the next, and between one series of postures and the next. We invite you to experience this holistic fitness program for people of all ages and fitness levels that heals and detoxifies.”

Oh, and this is done in a hot room.

On Tuesday our instructor talked a lot about listening to your body and signs of fatigue or stress or dark circles, well these are ways our bodies tell us that something is wrong and we should listen. Now, I’m sure many of you are rolling your eyes and thinking to yourself, “oh that crazy Lemon Lady living in that weird city” (yeah, I know what you’re thinking Dad), but I truly believe in this because of one incident over Spring Break my senior year of college.

Spring Break my senior year really snuck up on me. I didn’t make any plans to go to some crazy destination somewhere and drink my bad grades away, nor did I even remember to ask for time off from work. I worked retail at the time and I probably would have forgotten about the break completely if it wasn’t for my manager asking me to take on more hours that week because half the staff was either in college and going to Mexico to drink all the tequila they could get their hands on or they had children who would be out of school that week to entertain at home. Because, I’m an idiot I told her sure I’d take a few more hours if she would give me the last two days off so I could try to have a little fun somewhere. I decided my fun would be driving the two hours to see my parents so I could go shopping with my mom. Seriously this was the highlight of my senior year’s Spring Break.

The other side of this story that you need to know is when I was a sophomore in High School I hurt my back pretty badly, and now I have back pain. I’ve talked to lots of doctors about and tried a lot of different medications and stretches. I’ve pretty much just learned to deal with it. At the time of this story I was still seeing my nice, young, female doctor as this was before I kicked her in the face and made her nose bleed. About a month before spring break she had prescribed me an arthritis medication hoping that would alleviate my back pain because she didn’t like me eating Motrin like candy or popping Narcotics. (Oh, sweet, sweet Vicodin…)

So I had been taking this medication for about a month, not every day, but enough to realize that it really wasn’t working. This is the sad thing. The freaking drug DIDN’T WORK, but in my mind I convinced myself that maybe I just needed to give it a little more time. I also noticed that it made me itchy. Not crazy itchy, but enough where in the middle of the night I would have to get out of bed and slather myself in lotion.

This is where I should have listened to my body. The itching should have been a giant red stop sign to me that hey, maybe my decision to keep taking this drug that is not working and seems to be having a weird reaction to my body ISN’T A GOOD IDEA!!! But, no. I wanted it to work so bad because my back hurt from working lots of hours (I worked in the stock room mostly) and I was going to see my mom and we were going to go shopping and I just wanted my two day Spring Break to be fun and perfect and pain free!!! I mean is this too much to ask?

Again, “I was going to see my mom and we were going to go shopping and I just wanted my two day Spring Break to be fun and perfect and pain free!!!”

On the morning of my first day off I woke up and my back was on fire. It was the worst it had been all week. It felt like some evil, evil little demon was pulling my skin away from my lower back and then twisting screw drivers into my spine. I was in PAIN. So, I crawled my way into the kitchen and downed a few crackers so I could crawl back into the bathroom and take two of the little blue and white pills that I wanted to work so bad. I prayed. I willed them to work. Then I took a shower and while the hot water massaged my lower back and temporally washed the little demons, I convinced myself that I would be okay and my two day Spring Break going to be awesome. It was at this point that I started getting really, really thirsty. I decided that my thirst was probably just being a tad bit dehydrated from beer the night before, so I made myself a big ‘ol cup of ice water for the drive down to my parents house.

Signs from my body: 2 (back pain and dehydration)

It was when I was walking down the stairs outside my apartment with my big ‘ol water and overnight bag when I started to feel a tad bit dizzy. Kinda like when you stand up to fast, but I was already standing. I figured this was because I was hungry, but I could make it to mom’s because if I did she would buy my lunch, thus more money to spend shopping.

Signs from my body: 3 (back pain, dehydration, and dizziness)

I had been in the car and driving for twenty minutes or so when the itchiness started… real bad. At this point in the back of my mind I know something is wrong. Something is seriously wrong. I can’t put down my big ‘ol water for fear of my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth, I’m having trouble concentrating on the road because my mind and eyes are dizzy and now I’m having to take my hands off the wheel and scratch my body every three seconds.

Signs from my body: 4 (back pain, dehydration, dizziness, and itching)

Five minutes later it hits me, like a slap to the face, I have to throw up. All the water I’ve been drinking is suddenly at the back of my throat and I can feel it. I’m doing 70 MPH on 290 just outside Dripping Springs and my eyes can’t focus and my back is on fire and I’m rubbing my legs on the back of the seat trying to relieve the constant itch and I know I have to pull over.

I pulled over on the side of the road and threw up all that water and any of the drug that was left in my stomach and yes, probably those few crackers as well. Just as I am finishing I hear a car slow and pull in behind me. I just remember being pissed off, honestly. I remember thinking, “Really? I just want to get to my parents so I can go shopping and try to have a fun day with my mom and put this whole silly over dose or bad drug reaction out of my mind and now I have to deal with some hillbilly stopping to hold my hair and ask questions, oh Hell no…”

Then my mind sobered up and I remembered that I was in the middle of nowhere and what if this person stopped to rape me, kidnap me, force me into slavery, etcetera… I’m all alone on the side of a two way highway in Texas with my car door wide open and I’m bent over at my waist not trusting my mind to be stable enough to actually stand straight and defend myself, or at least run.

Turns out “scary rapist guy” was a cop, and not a “scary rapist cop” but a nice old cop who kinda looked liked Kevin Spacey (who I love). I think at first he thought I might be drunk – which would have been bad enough – but then I told him the story about the bad drug I’ve been taking… which big surprise didn’t help my cause. Finally my brain started working again and I perked up enough to add to my story that the drug I took was prescribed by my doctor and not a narcotic. In fact it was a old person’s arthritis medication and I should have stopped taking it weeks ago, it’s just I really wanted a good two day Spring Break that involved shopping with my mom. Again, I really just wanted a good two day Spring Break with my mom. By this time he had gotten me a bottle of water from his car and was laughing at my story. While he stayed with me for a few minutes to make sure the dizziness was gone he told me a story about his daughter and how she thought she overdosed on Benadryl but really she just ate some unwashed lettuce. Yeah, my crazy Spring Break story can now be lumped in with some Benadryl bimbo that can't wash her veggies... great...

After twenty minutes I got into my car and drove off with no more itching, upset stomach, or dizziness. I got to my parents an hour and a half later with just some good ‘ol bad pain. I took some Motrin and sucked it up, so I could at least pretend to have a good time shopping with my mom.

My mom and I bought matching shoes at Nordstoms. They were these cute little summer wedges in red and blue. The next week I realized exactly how bad my back must have hurt because those shoes that were all cute and comfy in the store, HURT LIKE A BITCH the second I tried to take a step in them outside my apartment door.

Signs from my body I didn’t listen too: Back Pain, Dehydration, Dizziness, Itching, Upset Stomach

Signs from my body I did listen too: Foot Pinching – I never wore those shoes ever again

Proof of Awesomeness: Not To Toot My Own Horn Or Anything...

I know these are really late, but better late than never, right?




Two things...

I like that I'm skinnier now than I was in these photos.
I also like that in the second picture it looks like there is a black cat riding on my head. Or hanging out, whatever.

2011 Acadamy Awards: Graded Dresses, James Franco, and Poor Amy Adams...

So.. um.. the Academy Awards were on last night…

I seriously don’t really know where to start when talking about the Oscars. Red Carpet reviews? The hosting? Who won what? Who said what? The fact that Kurt Douglas might be the creepiest old guy ever? So many things are running though my head.

I guess let’s start at the beginning.

The Red Carpet

Mila Kunis gets an A+ in Elie Saab I’ve already confessed my love for this girl and talked about how she might just be the prettiest thing ever, but she knocked it out of the park last night. At first I thought this was Rodart because of all the detailing and delicate layers, but no it’s Elie Saab. The color is gorgeous, the train in dramatic but not over the top (take notes Halle Berry), and yes, I even like the “boob tattoos” (as my sister called them). I love that she finally put some jewelry on, as that was really my only issue with her Globes dress. Yup, I love this.

Scarlett Johansson gets a B in Dolce & Gabbana If I judged Scarlett on the first split second I saw her he would have scored a whole lot higher than a B. I actually think this dress looks better in photos that it did last night on the televised Red Carpet. I love the color of the dress and red funky almost red eye shadow. My problem is that the dress is too tight. GO UP A SIZE! I mean she probably wears a size 2 (which is so curvy in Hollywood) but yet I can’t keep looking at her tummy in this photo. Also girl had, well, issues walking. Look, the Red Carpet is only 300 meters long, but young Hollywood should be able to walk those 300 meters not looking like me when I’m trying on shoes in Target and they’re held together by those elastic bands so people don’t switch the sizes and buy one size 6 for their right foot and an 8 and a half for their left. She was already handicapped this awards season by losing her delicious hunky husband, she doesn’t need to also be held back by her too tight dress.

Amy Adams gets an F in L’Wren Scott I hate this. I hate this so much. I’m sorry New Friend A because I know how much you love Amy and the color blue, but she is worst dressed on my list. Everything about this look is wrong. The dress is way to top heavy with the high neck AND cap sleeves. Between the high neck, necklace, and her hair down she has absolutely no neck. (And if I’ve leaved anything from watching 16 seasons of America’s Next Top Model you never what to lose your neck…) And her hair… it doesn’t look good. I’m sorry, but there is a reason for updos and this is it. Hair gets blown and pushed aside and flattened and smashed in the limo and it just goes limp outdoors in real weather. Some people have enough texture or body that they can fight against Mother Nature, but Amy Adams... not so much. I mean I get it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve curled my hair and fought my natural straight flat hair, but the moment I step outside humidity is like, “oh Hell no!” and wah wah… limp Amy Adams hair. Oh, and the trend I loved the most on the Red Carpet last night was everyone wearing green gems, but I think her jewelry is over kill. Sorry. Yeah. I kinda hated the whole look.

Hailee Stienfeld in Marchesa gets a B+ She has looked so adorable and well dressed at all the award shows this season that she was the one I was most looking forward to see last night. I like that she changed things up for the Oscars, but still looks like a young girl. It’s the first time she’s worn her hair up, but the head band still makes it young. It’s big and puffy, but not a floor length ball gown. And I would have killed for those shoes when I was 14. Actually I still might kill for those shoes…

Nicole Kidman gets a D in Dior Couture Let the napkin jokes begin! Excuse me; let the bedazzled napkin jokes begin! Boyfriend’s Sister called her “bottom heavy” while my own sister just asked, “WFT is Nicole Kidman wearing?” I answered her question as realistically as possible when I said, “A very ugly origami wedding cake, duh.” Okay, but enough with the jokes. I mean I get it. It’s Dior… Couture… it’s fancy. Nicole takes risks, blah, blah, blah. But what about her hair? Her bangs look like mine right now. They look like she can’t quite make up her mind if she wants to keep cutting them or grow them out so she’s trying the “push them to side the side” method. Like I said, I get it. I’m going that right now, but I know how to bobby pin them and hair spray them so they don’t spring up over your forehead like a Red Sea wave. Just saying.

Penelope Cruz in L’Wren Scott gets an A Amy Adam, this is how you wear L’Wren Scott. Penelope had a baby like 5 minutes ago and looks like this. FML.

Natalie Portman in Rodart gets a B Natalie looks very pretty, and the dress is very pretty. And you know home girl is all crazy excited to come and collect her Oscar who everyone already knows is hers, but still in the back of her mind (and probably in her feet) she really just wants to be at home on the couch demanding her slightly weird looking, dancing, baby daddy bring her more vegan ice cream. (If there is such a thing) I like it, but just like little Hailee I liked her Globes and SAG Awards dresses better. The color is beautiful on her and I LOVE the earrings, but I really wish the straps were thinner. Like, I wish they were just the width of the part with the beading. I get the she has pregnant boobies right now, but are they so big they need that much fabric? I don’t think so.

Cate Blanchette gets an A in Givenchy Couture Before you hecklers start screaming through your computers let me explain… First of all I AM A YELLOW WHORE! I can’t control it. Every spring bright yellow things start popping up in stores and I can’t reign myself in. I want yellow t-shirts, yellow throw pillows, yellow bath towels, yellow head bands, yellow nail polish… I can’t stop. I love this color and the pop of yellow on Cate’s dress is fun and unexpected and different! The back makes it for me. I know the front it a little… wonky. I’m not quite sure why she has a purple bead free bib on her boobs, but I don’t care. She looks amazing!

My biggest question to your guys, besides what you thought about the dresses (obviously) is what y’all thought about the hosts? I liked Anne about 60% of the time, which is 50% more than I thought I would and I’m pretty sure James Franco was just stoned and wondering to himself, “wow these people actually let me do this” to himself the whole night. I’ve pretty much decided that James Franco and his buddies stay up really late one night of the year, get super, super high and try to figure out the most random things James could get paid to do for the next year.

Things on Jame’s “I’m high and might wanna do this later” list… (that he has actually done)

Saw my arm off on camera
Be a soap opera star now that I’m a huge movie star
Teach a class at an ivy league school about the wonders of being James Franco
Host the Oscars (why? BECAUSE I CAN!!!)

Oh, and I’ll probably have to do a review of Anne’s hosting dresses. (why? BECAUSE I CAN!!!)

A Very Informative List...

Things I would like to do at this very moment…

Eat a giant Chipotle Veggie burrito with black beans, pico, roasted corn, cheese, and guac

Be back on the road with LSU Friend heading to Baton Rouge for yet another Madi Gras celebration

Go home and do all the laundry that’s been piling up and be a good roommate to Boyfriend because he’s wonderful and amazing and cleans so well

Run outside and demand that Mother Nature turn off this over cast, crappy, “is it gonna rain” weather

Watch more Gossip Girl and drink more cheep white wine while making more sugar cookies because that was so much fun over the Christmas break

Stand on the scale and finally see a number that is below what I’ve been looking at for the past week

Curl up on the couch and pretend my pillow is George Michael while I look at photos of my adorable puppy

Steal my Co-Worker’s gold necklace because its shinny and sparkly and I want to touch it

Cash in my giant bucket of change that has about 100 dollars in it (I know this because my Grandma Texas gave Boyfriend a change counting bank for Christmas)

Go meet my new nephew and play with my old nephew

Cover my hand in glue and then peel off the glue skin like my friends and I did all the time in 4th grade

Clean out my car including the wrapping paper that has been in there since the day after Christmas and the change that is stuck to bottom of the cup holders

Drain my bank account and take Boyfriend to London and then Spain and then Greece and then the Maldives

Take a nap

Yummmm… tequila

Take a bubbly bath

Weed my backyard (at least by the fence) so we can start a garden and grow our own cucumbers so I can then make pickles

Sister is Having a Baby! Oh, And Just One Of The Times She Was Completely Evil To Me...

My sister is in labor right now with her second kiddo, who will be my second nephew. I honor of my wonderful sister, I thought I’d tell you guys about the one time she SCARED THE CRAP out of me. She’s such a good mom, really…

The story takes place when I was in kindergarten and we lived in the great state of Rhode Island. My sister was in the fourth grade and surprisingly this is not a tale of about how we shared a room for the first (and only) time. Nor, is this the story of us lying in our beds at night making up stories about the super scary Greek tiles that hung on the wall outside of our room. (Although next time I go home to the parent’s house I’ll take photos of those tiles so you guys can be the judge of how frightening they really are.) This story takes place on the road. This story takes place while my family and I were doing that super scary, incredibly creepy act of… driving through New England to look at the fall foliage! DunDunDun!!!! (Insert evil music)

At this time in my life I needed… well structure. I find this funny because now I think I’m a pretty laid back kinda gal. I mean you should see me and Boyfriend try to pick a restaurant some times. I’m all, “I don’t care where we go. Where do you want to go?” Then he says, “Well, what do you want?” “Then I answer, “I don’t care, what do you want?” And this goes back and forth until one of us snaps and finally says something (usually me) and then Boyfriend says “Nah, I don’t want that.”

Anyway, I was not like this as a five year old. As a five year old I went to half a day kindergarten and played the same game on the bus every morning. (Super Mario Brothers) As a five year old I came home every day from kindergarten and my mom made me the same lunch… every day. (Campbell’s Clam Chowder Soup) We did the dishes every day after dinner because we didn’t have a dish washer, and it calmed me that our dog barked incisively at the same squirrels out in our back yard every day. I was good as long as things went according to plan. But, on that cool, autumn day things did not go according to plan…

We got up early and as a family we all piled into the minivan and headed out into the great unknown. I was okay with this because that was that plan. We drove all around New England that day. (So I don’t really remember exactly where or for how long we drove and if I write, “Oh we drove thought New York and Vermont and Maine and heck probably a good 500 miles into Canada” -like I remember us doing- I’ll get a call tonight from my dad correcting me that really we only got to Connecticut, barely.) The point of this story is that we were a ways from our little home and it started to get dark. My parent’s brilliant idea was to simply pull over at the next Holliday Inn and purchase a room for the night.

First hotel…

Parents: “We require a room good sir.”

Hotel Guy: “There’s no room in the inn…”

Second hotel…

Parents: “We require a room good sir.”

Hotel Guy: “Yeah, can’t stay here…” (You should read that in the same voice as the snot kid who tells Forest Gump, “You can’t sit here” on the bus his first day of school. Just FYI.)

Forty Fifth Hotel…

Parents: “Just please let us give you money for a place to stay!!!
”
Hotel Guy: “Look people we are in the middle of prime leaf looking season. Did you honestly think you could just pack up your kids and maybe a few granola bars and be set of the day? Did you honestly think that these trees aren’t pulling in record breaking viewers this year? I mean look outside! Look at those colors! And you people just think you can waltz right in here and get a room like its some slow Fourth of July weekend? Ha! You turrists have a lot of learning to do.”

Parents: “Please we didn’t know… WE DIDN’T KNOW…”

Hotel Guy: “I know. I know. And you know what? I like you two, so I’m gonna help you out. I’m looking here on my computer and it looks like our sister hotel in south New Jersey just might have a broom closet you could sleep in for the night. Let’s see here… its 11:30 now and it takes about 5 hours to get there, so you could get a good 45 minutes of sleep in before they would have to get into that closet to find the waffle irons for breakfast. You better hurry.”

While this lovely conversation is going on in the hotel lobby, this is being said in the car…

Me: “I’m tired…”

Sister: “You know what going to happen, right?”

Me: “Um, no. What? What’s going to happen, Sister?”

Sister: “We are never going to find a place to stay tonight, and you know what that means, right?”

Me: “Mom and Dad will make a reservation? Because if they make a reservation they have to let us sleep there.”

Sister: “They can’t make a reservation for the same night that it is. Don’t you get it? Mom and Dad didn’t make a reservation. They didn’t prepare at all. They failed you. And you know what that means, right?”

Me: “Mom and Dad can fail us? I don’t get it…”

Sister: “IT MEANS WE WILL HAVE TO SLEEP IN THE CAR!!!”

I don’t know if words on the internet can express how much this freaked me out. Sleeping in the car is what homeless people did. Sleeping in the car meant my parents didn’t have all the answers and couldn’t fix everything. Sleeping in the car meant sleeping without my blanket. Sleeping in the car meant it would get really cold. Sleeping in the car meant wondering if our dog would die at home because we weren’t there to let him outside or feed him. In my mind, sleeping in the car was not an option.

But then my parents came out of the hotel lobby and got back in the car without a room key
.
Sister: “So did we get a room?”

Mom: “Nope, not here.”

Dad: “Yeah, this is getting ridiculous. I guess we’ll just have to sleep in the car.”

Parents: “Hahaha!”

And while my parents laughed away their worries in the front seat my sister turned to me and gave me an evil, evil smile…

To this day I don’t like not knowing where I’ll be sleeping. If I’m going over to a friend’s house and they pull out a giant bottle of tequila, I’d like to know if I can crash on the couch or do they have an extra room. When I was dating Ex-Boyfriend we took the train from Berlin to Poland and the first thing I made him do was find us a hotel room. In the back of my mind I knew I had taken a ten hour train to Eastern Europe on a whim, and everything I owned within 3000 miles was in a small duffle bag, but damn it I was going to have a bed to sleep in that night if we had to walk to every hotel and hostel in Krakow!

Oh, and in case you’re wondering we just ended up driving all the way home that scary night when I was five.

Random Thoughts: Puppies, Pots, and Songs That Heart Didn't Sing But I Thought They Did...

Can it please be 4 weeks from now so I can bring my puppy home, because OMG how freaking adorable is he???

Boyfriend and I bought art supplies on Sunday to paint new homes for Pedro (for who our fictional third child is named after) and Rasputin. Who says Sister is the artistic one in the family?

Boyfriend and I went to Fredericksburg on Saturday night for dinner with some friends and on the way home I had a near perfect radio experience. We were listening to BobFM and we heard Alannah Miles' Black Velvet (am I the only one who thought Heart sung this song?), John Lennon's Imagine, Alanis Morissette's You Oughta Know, and some other amazing song that I can't remember now because I didn't write it down because I had had three beers but I promise it was awesome as well ALL IN A ROW!!! So because I love y'all so much, check out this klassy (yes, with a k) lady...