Thursday, December 30, 2010

Undateable

Everyone fucking gets engaged over Christmas. (New year's resolution: Swear less. Chance of success? Highly unlikely.) This year that included my father. And about four other people on my facebook feed, or that I have heard about, have gotten engaged. And I swear to god if they aren't engaged they're having babies.

Now: I have always claimed that I don't want marriage and babies. The babies part I stick by 100%. Kids be not at all my thing. I have never picked up an infant and cooed and been like "Oh wee little baby!" I mostly look at them, think they are funny looking, think about the alien life force growing inside you for 9 months *cringe*, hear them cry and hand them back. "Yeah, you go deal with that. You run someone to soccer practice and pay for some yuppie Montessori school and take vacations at designated times with the rest of the world for the next 18-25 years. Imma be over here with fine jewelry and designer purses and 4 star hotels..." That may be selfish of me, but at least I'm not miserable trying to fit into a mold society kinda expects of me, since I have a uterus and all. (I think my family is aware of this. I am not young and not once have I EVER been asked if I am going to have kids.)

Marriage? Sigh. Marriage. I dunno. I vacillate a lot more on this one. I don't know about the whole "'Til death do us part" thing but having a constant? That'd be nice. So, and pardon the Kanye caps, WHY THE HELL IS THAT SO HARD TO GET?!?

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

New Years Eve

I don't have even a whiff of a plan for NYE. All my favorite people are out of town/working. And by favorite I mean the tiny collection of friends I have that make up the people in this universe that I can stand. And a few family members.

Usually I am fine with no NYE plans. I hate NYE for the following reasons:

  1. It is amateur night. Every one who just turned 21, and those who aren't even 21, feel compelled to go out. And they are usually from San Anselmo or San Ramon or some other awful suburb and do not fucking know how to act when in zomg a big city. 
  2. Which means they are all shit faced blotto by 10 p.m., even though the bar will stay open, as is customary EVERY night, 'til 2 a.m.
  3. Them being blotto early means that drunk, emotional girls have turned the bathroom into an uninhabitable train wreck by 11 p.m. and are likely to spill cheap champagne/step on you. Constantly. Repeatedly. I like a clean bathroom, thanks. 
  4. And bars be expensive. $80 to go sit in some crowded place you can't leave because the next bar is just as expensive? Yeah. No. You could do that whole table service thing but that requires a collection of people and...we're back to the original problem. 
  5. Cabs. Don't even think about getting a cab. Considering I live in, as Chuck calls it, The Boonies (near West Portal), any bar I might be inclined to get gussied up to go to is nowhere near me, this becomes problematic. Sure sure, public transport. Um, really? The 48 at 2 a.m.? I'll pass. 
  6. Since, as Kent said last night, "70% of your family is SFPD", they all end up working NYE. Which means I run into them. Which means they know what I'm up to. Which means making out on the street with some random stranger, as is my m.o, becomes slightly awkward. 
So usually I try to do something quiet and close to home. One year, when with the ex, who had a friend named PJ, we had a PJ party at PJ's. Last year we did a nice dinner at my Dad's house. That was all well and good until the point where it was 4 couples and me at midnight (fucking being single. grumble). So I didn't want a repeat of that nonsense this year. Which, dad has to work, problem solved. Michael invited me down to Palm Springs...and while momentarily tempted by that, I realized I'm a) broke and b) that being the straight girl with a group of gay guys was perhaps more depressing than being the straight girl with the couples.

Like I said, usually fine with no plans, but I've lost a modicum of weight, found a pair of knee high boots that actually fit over my extra large calves and own a dress that I can't return because I already ripped the tags off it. My life is about to get exponentially more frustrating with YAY BAR STUDY so I'd like to do something, have some fun before that begins...but I got nada.

So I guess I need to be content with a bottle of Bailey's and romcoms for me to curse at/wish were my life as I sit on the downstairs couch with the dog after my parents go to bed at like 9:30.

I'll party on Jan 7th when LSU plays TAMU in a bowl game, I guess.

Anyone got anything more exciting planned?

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Holidaze

I hate the day after Christmas. Everyone is all good cheer and Christmas carols and present wrapping for a month. The sun rises on December 26th and pfftt that is all over. The light rock station is light rock again and not a marshmallow world in the winter. There are no presents under the tree. There is no good cheer left and nothing to look forward to. (Except for a bowl game on January 7th.)

This year, then, I suppose the fact that I was extremely hungover on December 26th was a good thing. Or at least had an upside. I barely left my bed. My mom came in my room at 3 p.m., after I'd been in and out of dozing all day and said, "It smells like drunk people in here." "Yeahhh...I'll take a shower." And that was pretty much all I accomplished yesterday. Apparently I was way into the holiday spirits the previous night.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

It was like high school...


Or the version of high school John Hughes sold to me in all his movies. Because it didn't actually resemble any of my high school experiences. Still...

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Bake-A-Thon

When the holidays roll around, I use it as an excuse to bake like a fiend. I've gone through 7 pounds of flour, four pounds of butter, at least a dozen eggs...and I'm nowhere near done.

So far I've made:
2 batches of polk-a-dot cookies (chocolate cookies with bright green mint chips)
2 batches of white chocolate, macadamia, cranberry cookies
2 batches of peanut butter cookies (I'm not particularly enamored with these and they may be moved out of the rotation)
1 batch regular old chocolate chip
1 batch of mexican butter cookies with sprinkles
2 cheesecakes


All of this while battling my sinuses which are driving me BANANAS and my family, who are mercifully all at work this morning, but also driving me bananas. I am just in NO mood, folks.

That is until I turn on the Christmas carols and zone out stirring, mixing, folding. Michael asked me last night why I go all crazy with the baking. Frankly, I find it relaxing. It's sort of zen. It doesn't require heavy thought. I think all of what I make is really good, but it's not original. I'm following a recipe, someone else's directions. Sure, I add and subtract and change minor things but essentially, someone else has made sure the things work. And cookies make people happy. It's an easy gift. Giving my trainer a cheesecake every year is a seriously simple thing I can do to make someone happy. I jokingly threw in a plastic fork and knife to the box I put his cheesecake in this year. I get a text that he's on BART eating it. I mean that just makes my day.

In quasi-related news: I started a "Look, I'm a fatass!" blog. It's tedious and boring and more for me than you (insert usual self deprecating joke here). Even the title refers to how boring dieting is and talking about dieting is and actually dieting is. But. If you felt compelled, there it is. Don't worry, faithful few, any inspired content will be reserved for here.

Lots of non-sequiturs tonight so: Despite last week's horoscope telling me to go out and have some damn fun, I've been hiding in the house with my baking. I just can't muster it. It's cold. I actually like not drinking and waking up with bad decisions lingering in brain. But: I'm dragging myself out tonight. I need to talk to people not related to me so I can stop talking to myself. Out loud. In public. Which I have caught myself doing a frightening number of times lately. I am headed to meet Cheryl in her neighborhood. Which is of course the Marina. I'm sort of determined to stay away from my brother's bars so we'll see how that goes... (Probably impossible since they are ALL "his" bars. I would have liked to stick to Sunset/Richmond Irish bars [something about the holidays makes me nostalgic] but Cheryl is Asian and thus can consume 2 drinks before drunk so it's safer in her 'hood.)

In more other news: I saw Forever Tango with my mother today. It was meh. Not as good as Burn the Floor. Favorite moments though: 1. Me saying, after the 45 minute show, "That's it? That's a lot of money for 45 minutes." Mom, "Didn't you read the program? Or wonder why no one was leaving? It's intermission!" Me, "Oooohhhh." 2. Mom, "I thought this would be more exciting. More flamenco-y." Me, "Um, then that would be flamenco, and not tango. It's called forever TANGO." Mom, "Oooohhh." Apparently there's some holiday fatigue setting in. We're not usually this retarded.

So those are the current goings on. Hopefully more to report tomorrow...

Saturday, December 18, 2010

It's in the stars...



It's rainy in San Francisco. Like really really rainy. Like we're supposed to get 5" by Sunday (that's what she said. [Sorry, that felt necessary]). Which is kinda nice. It makes my staying in the house that much more acceptable. It makes dragging my ass to the gym that much more difficult. My plan is to bake. A lot. So if you would like some cookies, hit me up.


However, I'm getting that BNBD itch. It's been a whopping two weeks plus (since Thanksgiving)! That's some sort of record, isn't it? Besides, I need to get this out of my system before the end of the year! The new year brings resolutions and bar study. Wheee!

My horoscope, which I read weekly, seems to concur with the going out thing:

In the TV comedy series "Arrested Development," Buster Bluth was an adult character who was a bit over-attached to his mother. It seemed to have to do with the fact that he lingered in her womb for 11 months before agreeing to be born. The obstetrician claimed "there were claw marks on her uterus." I want to be sure you don't make a comparable misstep in the coming weeks, Cancerian. It really is time for you to come out and play. Ready or not, leave your protective sanctuary and leap into the jangly, enchanting tumult.


How awesome is that horoscope? An Arrested Development reference? Pretty awesome.


But I decided to "displace" my BNBD urges and have been just killing it at the gym instead. I'm resisting because, well, I'm broke and tired of waking up with a remorse. Stupid sinus issues and all, I go to the gym. It feels good. I just wish change were more immediate. I am not a patient person. However, I will try to embrace that sentiment and maybe get out and do some stuff that ISN'T all BNBD.


Anyway, some house keeping stuff: the blog is about to get REALLY boring. Today in the mail I got both my admission ticket for the February bar and my returned blue books from failing the July bar. WHEEEEE! SO MUCH FUN! (I also got a Christmas card from my ex's parents. It was a banner day for the mail.) As such, I am not going to have much to say as I go down the rabbit hole of suckitude that is re-learning 16 areas of law. SO EXCITED! HAPPY FACE! DANCE DANCE!


But I had a thought: I have a defunct blog with some pretty good writing on it. Imma repost some of my favorites over here to keep you, all six of you or whatever, entertained. Starting with a Christmas post. They will also be updated and slightly altered but unless you read my old blog, you won't know that. Everything old is new again!


A list of my all time favorite Christmas movies/shows:






1. A Charlie Brown Christmas. It's genius. With genius music. Who among us hasn't at some point lost a little of the Christmas spirit due to crass commercialism and forgetting that on this day a star guided the way for a family to Bethlehem? Fine, Big Bang Theory will tell you about how Christians reinterpreted pagan holidays (true), but mangers and sheep and three kings still are an important part of the mythos. (Even if as a lapsed Catholic I haven't been to church in forever.) And it has Snoopy dancing. True story: once upon a time I thought about getting a tattoo of Snoopy dancing. You know: this. Why? Because as someone who can often be morose, no matter what mood I'm in the sight of Snoopy dancing makes me crack a smile. It's just so ridiculously goofy! So I thought: If I get a tattoo of that and I'm in a crappy mood, I need only look at my tattoo. Obviously I didn't do this, it's ridiculous. And cartoon character tattoos are only slightly below sports logo tattoos, of which I already have one. But seriously, watch this and try not to giggle. It's impossible.






2. Have you ever watched all of It's a Wonderful Life? Like really watched it? It's actually not a Christmas movie. It's a commentary on the average man and hopelessness but somehow got turned into a Christmas movie. It's existential crisis. And it is amazing.






I had a class in high school called Fiction to Film. And it was a hard class. (Seriously, I can't tell you how much more difficult high school was than undergrad.) But I rocked it because I love movies. I mean, I saw Citizen Kane when I was ten. I hate Citizen Kane. I get it, top 100 movie and all, great editing and montages, etc. blah blah blah. But at 10, when you find out what Rosebud is? You are bitterly disappointed.






Anyway, in my high school class we had to write a paper on the directorial style of a particular director. I chose Billy Wilder. We actually watched It's a Wonderful Life in class and analyzed it (hey, it was hard! I didn't say it wasn't fun too.) I watched a ton of Wilder films and now know them as soon as I see them even if I don't already know he directed them (Sabrina). I wish I still had that paper, I bet it was good. (Re-reading this I realize it is an irrelevant reference because the movie was directed by Capra, not Wilder. I don't know how I could have gotten this confused.)






Point being: It's a Wonderful Life is a hugely touching, well directed, well acted movie that will, undoubtably, remind you of what is important in life. Watch it. All of it. Oh, and for those of you of the Sesame Street generation (all of us), the film gave us the characters Burt and Ernie. For serious.






3. Serendipity. This movie is probably why the only times I have ever been to NYC are around the holidays and why I love the hell out of that city at that time of year. Again, not a holiday movie per se, but just a sweet romance. Probably my most surprising memory of this movie is we were discussing it recently and my brother said, "I love that movie." I thought he was being sarcastic and mocking me. (He does that. All. The. Time.) I was all, "Yeah, sure, whatever. No one is going to make you like romances." And he got all defensive. "No! Really! I like it!" I was shocked. The neanderthal likes the light hearted holiday romance? Hmm. Who knew? It actually got brought up again last night, my parents were watching it on TV, and my mom again mentioned her surprise that Doug likes that movie. It just doesn't fit with what we generally know about my brother. I am also a fan of going to Serendipity 3 in NYC. It's ridiculous and touristy and wonderful. Right near Bloomingdales. Sigh. I miss you NYC!






4. Home for the Holidays. Ever been tortured by your family and had a series of not funny mishaps while at home? You've lived this movie. Probably more than once. Repressed, uptight, martyr of a sister? Check. Crazy free wheeling brother? Check. Whacky aunt? Check. Mother who doesn't understand you at all? CHECK! I maintain that the mother/daughter relationship, for whatever reason and I have no idea why, is the most complicated relationship in the universe. I guarantee more hours have been spent in therapy all over the world figuring out this one than any other thing in people's lives. This somehow becomes exponential at the holidays. The texts from Sarah and my own increasing frustrations right now seem to confirm my hypothesis.






Sorry, total digression. Point is: I love this movie, it makes me laugh, in that totally uncomfortable way you laugh at, say, The Office.






5. Mixed Nuts. I haven't seen this movie in forever. It's ridiculous farce and I am a fan of the run all over the place ridiculous farce. And a fan of Steve Martin who used to be on my older hot guy list because he makes me laugh (pre-too much face work). And has a degree in philosophy, being quite possibly the only person to ever get rich with a philosophy degree.






6. After the Thin Man. It's my list so I can stretch it. If you haven't seen any of the Thin Man movies, you are sorely missing out. Giving you the names Nick and Nora, later stolen by a pajama company and a crappy teen movie, these crime movies are full of the witty banter and bon mots that were parlayed into The Gilmore Girls. You think we talk fast now? Watch a movie from 40 years ago and try and keep up. (Same goes for Arsenic and Old Lace and Harvey, two other movies I adore.) Nick and Nora Charles are in SF trying to solve a New Years Eve murder which is sorely interrupting former police detective Nick's plans to drink as many martinis as humanly possible. It's clever and funny and set in old school SF. This film is also responsible for my desire to make my next dog a Wire Haired Fox Terrier and name it Asta. I still might keep the name because we probably won't be getting a fox terrier, I like it.






7. White Christmas. A remake of a movie Bing Crosby made only a few years prior called Holiday Inn. (Me: full of the useless information. Not wikiing either, just know this shit. Too many nights spent watching AMC while in high school while everyone else was at kegs in The Grove) Dancing, singing, overwrought patriotism. George Clooney's aunt Rosemary singing Count Your Blessings, which is a phenomenal song. What's not to love? Those outfits too!






8. A Miracle on 34th Street. Once again NYC is one of the stars. Starting with the Thanksgiving Day Parade, a child (played by Natalie Wood) too young to already be jaded doesn't believe in Santa Clause because of her bitter, divorced, working mother (shocker. Played by Maureen O'Hara who I adore) has her world rocked by meeting Kris Kringle (the wonderful Edmund Gwenn). And Kris teaches us the real meaning of Christmas by offering up truth and hope against commercialism at Macy's. He helps Maureen find love and Natalie a family. And at the end, everyone believes again! It warms the cold cockles of my hardened lawyer heart. Do not watch it in color and do not watch the remake.






9. Elf. I hate Will Ferrell. I do. I don't find him funny at all. But when directed by Jon Favreau (not the president's speech writer, the other one) in a holiday vehicle? He's awesome. His childlike infectiousness actually has a purpose. The adorable Zooey Deschanel, a crumudgeounly James Caan, and an awesome Ed Asner and Bob Newhart? Sing loud for all to hear!






10. TNT in an inspiration of marketing genius and to fill boring holiday air time when people aren't in front of a TV decided to air 24 hours of A Christmas Story. I have no recall of this movie coming out or being in theaters but I think every last one of us knows this movie by heart at this point. It is poignant and holds a lot of truisms and has offered up some great lines. Forget "You'll shoot your eye out!" Give me, "Fa ra ra ra ra!" and "Fragggeeeelllleeee. It must be Italian!" And at some point, with it on in the background, I will see the whole movie. Not necessarily in it's intended order.






11. New for 2010: I mentioned the other day that for whatever reason, that the Yes, Virginia there is a Santa Claus letter makes me bawl like a baby. I watched the cartoon version the other night. And I bawled like a baby. (Yeah yeah yeah, I'm not the bad ass I'd like to be seen as. I know.) In analyzing this I would say being reminded of innocence and joy and hope because I can be so very very cynical. I guess. I dunno. Open to other interpretations...






Honorable mentions:


The original Home Alone. The aftershave scene alone is worth the price of admission.


Mickey Mouse's A Christmas Carol. What do you mean it's a Dickens novel? I had no idea of this until I was in high school.


Every single last Hallmark Channel or Lifetime cheesy ass holiday movie I've watched this season.






And now I am off to finish making my deviled eggs so I can park myself in front of the TV and watch some of these classics. (From last year. Reapply this year. Holiday bake-a-thon 2010 is about to get under way!)

Friday, December 17, 2010

Imaginary Christmas Gifts

For the first time in a long time I am, like the Italians of the 17th century, baaaarooooquueee (nerd joke).

And yet I want to GIVE! Give give give! So, much like the bequeaths you did in high school, (you did do those, right? It's one of the few things our high school did normal like. The snobby hs with no prom kings and queens, no stupid homecoming, no stupid homecoming court [of which I'm grateful for, less chances to feel like a loser]) I'm making a list of what I would give you, lovely people I know, if I had unlimited resources. Enjoy the fantasy as much as I do!

Andy. This one's easy. Because your raised in Central Florida self needs to learn how to eat real fucking food. Seriously. This just depresses me. It's sad. You know what else Andy divulged? Christmas eve dinner is McDonald's. My foodie heart died a little. Sure, I realize you're 20 and can shove whatever you want in your body with minimal side effect...that sounds way dirtier than it was meant to...but that doesn't mean you SHOULD. Sure, I had the advantage of growing up in food snobby San Francisco with parents who took me to fancy restaurants as a child. I was mocked at LSU for balking at chain restaurants. Applebee's commercials make me want to hurl. But we all know my hangover food is chicken mcnuggets, I have a secret love affair with buffalo wings, and In N Out is heavenly so I have my vices as well. It's not all organic squash blossom pizza and vegan fair (lol, like I'd eat at a vegan restaurant). Anyway, point is, with my magical Christmas powers, I bequeath to you, a food week in San Francisco, a mix of the fancy and the not so fancy. Crab diablo at Pacific Cafe. Pasta carbonara at Cafe Puccini. Bullshead burgers. Eating at the bar at Gary Danko, a trip to Woodside for steak Diane at the Bella Vista. Burritos, all those new fancy pizza places, fondue, and of course, a ballgame and garlic fries. And then something homemade that involves Caesar salad. And a trip to the candy store where we know the owners and can raid for whatever we want, including heavenly chocolate dipped Oreos. We would convert you and have you cook more when you got back because everything in Central Florida, which I am sure has it's own charm, would suddenly pale in comparison. Even your beloved Jimmy Johns or whatever it's called.

Michael. A trip on the Orient Express. You, me, Asia, Europe, high class. It'd be DIVINE! We'd be all fancy and get dressed every night and have tons of fantastic cocktails and I'd write Agatha Christie type murder mysteries while there. Le sigh!

Chuck: tickets to the Caps/Penguins Winter Classic. Like really good awesome seats. Even though it means a trip to Pittsburgh, which sounds awful. (What does one even do in Pittsburgh? #westcoastelitism)

Lindsey: A trip back to SF and a place to stay, gratis, while studying for the stupid bar exam. Every day we'd do this together. We'd be bar buddies! Of the not fun variety. We miss you!!!!

Mom: A massage a month at various spas of Northern California or wherever for as long as you want.

Kathryn: You. Me. BNBD in Chicago. (You know why.) Or Mardi Gras. It's right after the bar exam. It would be awesome!

Irene: I don't want to leave you off this list but I can't think of anything perfect so...invent what you think I should give you...knowing it's fully imaginary anyway...

You'll also notice that all of those gifts are things you do and not just things. As I've gotten older, I've learned to appreciate the time I get to spend with people and the things we go out in the world and do rather than some trinket or nicknack.

And since we're on the subject: You know what I want for Christmas? Besides that peasonearth thing everyone is supposed to want? And a waist size small enough to fit into a pair of whatever brand of jeans is currently fashionable (it used to be 7s, I'm not cool so I have no idea what it is now)?

I want my life to actually resemble one of those whacky romantic comedies that I both love and hate myself for watching all the time, thankyouverymuch. Though I'm still waiting for the pony I've been asking for since I was old enough to ask for things and wouldn't mind finally getting that...

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Glittering Christmas in San Francisco

This is quite possibly one of the worst Christmas songs EVER. And it doesn't even mention the best parts of Christmas in this fine city.

Today was the day my mother and I go to our traditional Christmas tea at the Palace Hotel's Garden Court.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Absenteeism


Prologue: I thought I should explain the last week of absenteeism. I was in Disney World. A trip that was planned 3 years ago, at least in discussions, that I would have loved to have gotten out of if at all possible. But since that was not possible, I found myself with my Dad’s sister, my aunt, and her best friend who has been around my family since they were youngsters and whom I have known since infancy. Now that I’ve left the Happiest Place on Earth and can pause to reflect on it, I can say that it was pretty fun and that the sheer volume of things we saw and did were numerous and I mostly enjoyed myself. I am, however, looking extremely forward to going home and going to the gym and getting back to my life. Or you know, what of my life there is…

Anyway, after the jump are some thoughts I jotted down when in Florida about the trip.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

You picked the WRONG girl, dude.

I got home from Hawaii last night. This is only relevant in the fact that I went to bed too late and woke up too early.

While going through my starred email I noticed I had received a message on okcupid. Yeah, I belong to an online dating site, fine whatever. The why and how of that isn't important right now. But while online responding to a message from a seemingly nice enough guy, I received an OkCupid instant message from another guy. I try to follow my rules on being nice and polite to everyone and giving them all a shot, as I did with this guy. Even though I could tell from his OkCupid uber scientific algorithm that him and I were only a 45% match. I generally don't want to talk to someone who I have little in common with. But whatevs, what else was I doing?

I have to preface this that I was already over the internet upon return from vacation. People's idiotic comments on the Juan Uribe trade were making me feel stabby. Instead of going into a rant on that, I'll just refer you to this post I wrote previously, all of which still applies.

Additionally, the Cam Newton/NCAA thing was about to blow up (my rant on the NCAA and why it is a systemically flawed organization that should be dismantled would probably be long enough to be published in a law review. [SHERMAN ANTI-TRUST!!!!]). I'm tired, I'm cranky, and I think a majority of people who don't understand the first flipping thing about the business side of sports are serious idiots.

There's your setup. Now: I'm on dating site, get instant message from non-match person. I am including the entire conversation below:


11:41:03 am)idiot:hello there
(11:41:13 am)me:Hi
(11:41:14 am)idiot:very interesting
(11:41:20 am)me:what is?
(11:41:33 am)idiot:huh....somehow, part of my message was deleted, lol
(11:41:43 am)idiot:your profile is quite interesting
(11:42:17 am)me:Oh, well, thank ya.
(11:42:35 am)idiot:so where did you run away to for college?
(11:42:45 am)Me:LSU
(11:42:59 am)idiot:no friggin' way, lol
(11:43:05 am)Redacted idiot:i'm a Tigers fan, too
(11:43:10 am)Me:Yes way.
(11:43:12 am)Me:AWESOME
(11:43:20 am)idiot:only because U of Lafayette's school is way to small to really cheer for.
(11:43:45 am)idiot:i hear there's a huge petition to get rid of Les Miles as soon as they can.
(11:44:01 am)Me:or, ya know, heart breaking depending on the day of week
(11:44:05 am)Me:um, there better not be
(11:44:15 am)Me:he had a 10 win season and he makes every game exciting
(11:44:17 am)Me:I love him
(11:44:54 am)idiot:yeah, there's a group of alumni who've raised the money to buy out the rest of his contract.
(11:45:18 am)Me:Well...I can think of about a million better things they can do with their money
(11:45:28 am)Idiot:only hitch is that they can't justify spending that amount of cash on replacing a football when they're cutting other programs around campus for lack of funding.
(11:46:23 am)Me:I'd like to ask those complete morons who they think they're going ot get right now that would be a BETTER coach than Miles
(11:46:58 am)Idiot:my dad was telling me a few months ago who his replacement would be.....some big name in football, that's for sure.
(11:47:06 am)Me:There's currently no one available in the coaching market who would do a better job than Miles
(11:47:11 am)Idiot:but the politics of cutting educational programs is what's stopping it.
(11:47:22 am)Me:and no one would take a job where the expectations are so high that a ten win season isn't good enough
(11:47:27 am)idiot:i don't follow the coaches that closely to know who they're thinking of
(11:48:46 am)idiot:either way, their championship run is over now after last week's loss.
(11:48:47 am)Me:Well. I follow pretty closely and have sports writer friends and if what you are say is true those people must actually hate LSU, not love it.
(11:49:24 am)idiot:no, my dad says that if you're a true LSU fan, you want to remove Miles .... so it's not LSU haters, according to my dad.
(11:49:46 am)idiot:he's more of a Ragin' Cajuns fan but cheers for LSU as the state's big team.
(11:49:50 am)idiot:like me.



It took about five seconds for my head to explode. Wait. You just kind of called me not a REAL fan? I think the tattoo on my ankle begs to differ. YOU'RE the one that's not a true fan, you ijiot. You go root for your Ragin' Cajuns and leave me the fuck alone (yes, my California friends, that is a real mascot of a real university. Well, "real" university. And you thought a defensive player named Barkevious Mingo was amusing. Ha!). You're the LSU fan that other LSU fans hate: the one with no ties to the school. Some big name football dude? Really? That's what you got? In rereading it I also realize how completely asinine it is that he's QUOTING HIS FATHER'S OPINION and not coming up with his own.

Here's the thing: any of you that have seen me watch college football know that I take this shit for serious. I may not always know the out-routes or the exact play but when it comes to college football in general and my team in particular, I know my shit. I know who is in, who is out, and what's going on. I read up on the comings and goings. I PLAN VACATIONS AROUND FOOTBALL GAMES! So don't you DARE talk down to me just because I'm a girl. Ever. I mean, I spelled Barkevious Mingo right. Without looking. I know more in my pinky finger about LSU football than you do in your entire body. Don't tell me I'm wrong. Which you only feel comfortable doing because I am female. You would never step to a male friend like that.

So after five minutes of internet politeness, douche was unceremoniously blocked. Did I mention his screenname had "cuckold" in it. Yeah. Winner. Related: online dating is the worst thing ever.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

RomComs Lie

You don't go on vacation and meet some native of that place who you have both an immediate connection with and yet contentious relationship with, have wacky adventures and only after you leave, realize you love that person and one or the other of you travels a great distance to make it work. Stupid RomComs.

I am wrapping up my time in Hawaii. Actually, I'm now on the plane coming home from Hawaii. I'm kinda bummed about this. I want to move to the North Shore for the winter, do beach runs and swims all day and eat tuna poke and salads every night. I mean, seriously, I can re-study for the fucking California Bar anywhere, why not the north side of this island? OH, right. Because my student loan money is about to run out and I can't afford to. Sigh.

Shit got long, yo. Click for more.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Hawaii Update

Edits made below in fancy colors so if you already read it you can skip to the parts you haven't read.

I can barely type this as I am hungover like whoa and LSU is motherfu*!#ing losing to Arkansas on a end of half play by Ryan Mallet that just...gahhhhhhhhh.

Anyway, I thought you all might appreciate a quick update on our island adventures. Um. There aren't really any. Well, okay, here's what happened: my brother isn't here because he got sick and was ordered not to fly. I actually feel bad for him. I have thus spent three straight days with my mother and my stepdad and sort of wanted to kill them most of the time. It wasn't particularly fun. I haven't even swam in the ocean yet! And right now I'm, well, hungover in my room watching football. When the game is over I'll rectify that.

On Wednesday we arrived here, took naps after snacking at the Cheesecake factory and went to late dinner at the amazing Duke's. Went to bed early because we were all exhausted.

Thursday we woke up and went to breakfast at this place my mom likes. My dad and I have this thing about waiting an hour for eggs: don't. They're fucking EGGS. Give me $4 and I'll make you my own in fifteen minutes. So that wasn't fun. At all. Except that the food was actually good. And everyone here is so fucking friendly. SO FRIENDLY. It's hard to be pissy when the waiter is all like, "How's it hanging brudda?" So the food was good. But I WAITED AN HOUR FOR FUCKING EGGS! 

We went to the pool that afternoon where my mother had a wee bit of a meltdown. And I almost got in a fight wanting to punch the guy at the pool bar, where I ended up fortuitously for the last five minutes of the Saints/Cowboys game. Dude says, "I was just in New Orleans. That place is a shit hole. I'm never going there again!" Ohrly? It is? Did you go to Port of Call and Irenes and Frenchman Street or did you just drink flavored sugar water rum at Pat O's you giant douche? Fuck you. About ten minutes later he would say, "Yeah, I'm from Dallas. I hate the Cowboys, I'm not a fan at all, but I'd like them to spoil everyone else's season." Well. There you have it. THat just about explains everything about you, doesn't it? Douche.

And then to dinner buffet at the Royal Hawaiian. That was tasty and fun. We again called it an early night, the time change screwing with us, and woke up early Friday. Oh, also: I worked out. In the gym. On Thanksgiving. I figure this is good for the stupid amounts of mai tais I will drink this week. I also almost got in an altercation leaving the gym. Some people are island people. Some aren't. I'm guessing all these asshat tourists aren't. I'm getting onto the elevator when man moseying the fuck off it gets in my way. I happen to catch the corner of his foot on my way to make the already open elevator. I mumble excuse me but he doesn't hear this apparently. As the door's closing he says, "Well EXCUSE you." Fuck you, asshole, I SAID excuse me. You were the one in the way! Kind older southern lady on the elevator asks what that was about, I explain and she says in her amazing drawl, "We could take him." Ha! Thanks! Mom says after those two events that apparently I can't go out in Hawaii by myself. 

I had one thing I wanted to do here: go to the USS Arizona memorial. Because I'm a military nerd. This was MY thing. My stepdad totally hijacked it the second we got there. In fairness, he is also a military nerd. He's like a lifetime member of the WWII/D-Day Museum in New Orleans. And my mom wanted to go to the mall that afternoon. I had told her I didn't want to do both in the same day but this was vetoed. Anyway, we go to Pearl Harbor and I'm feeling rushed and we go to the USS Missouri and take a tour but then have to rush back on the bus to get back to our shuttle boat for the USS Arizona memorial. I don't like being rushed. I wanted to enjoy the USS Mo more. I'm about to lose it, but quietly and thank god for smart phones so I can tell others of my dilemmas. Then: Twist! It's too windy. They can't shuttle people over to the USS Az anymore. So I don't even get to go. GAH! But we go back on the bus and head to the Pacific Aviation Museum which wasn't impressive and I'm starting to loosen up because *spoiler alert!* I LOVE planes! I am later not bothered by this because someday I will be admiral of the Pacific Command and can go to Pearl Harbor whenever I want. So there. 

So anyway, in the midst of my text message bitching with my dear friends, I finally had enough yesterday and decided it would be a BNBD night and I would loosen up. We go to the mall, which ended up, despite being the mall the day after Thanksgiving, pretty fun. There's a restaurant at the mall that overlooks the ocean. And a Mai Tai bar in the middle of the bar mall. Life could be worse. And I spent a ton of money I don't have on stuff at Macy's. But tax here is only 5% as compared to the 9.5% in CA so really I'm saving money. On stuff I don't need. Whatevs.

Mom wants to go to Roy's that night, I need a shower, I get all dressed up because I am going out tonight! BNBD baby! (For the uninitiated that is the acronym for Booze and Bad Decisions, something has evolved from conversations with my stepsister and I. It is both a horrible horrible misguided rallying cry and an excuse for the feelings the next day. It started by me saying, when extremely hungover, "OMG I smell like booze and bad decisions.") Mom calls and says she's not feeling well, she's gonna stay in. But I'm dressed. But now I lack courage. It's HARD being a girl! Going out by yourself is scary. But I text and look for courage from my usual posse of folks and head downstairs to the hotel bar where after two mai tais I have a little liquid courage. The bartender, apparently recognizing that I'm alone at a bar, gives me a list of Chinatown bars that he says are awesome and full of locals and not stupid Waikiki bars. Because Waikiki is like Fisherman's Wharf. Very few locals places there. But a cab? To go to bars where I don't know anyone? This sounds sketchy. So I head to the one bar I swore earlier in the day to the adorable girls at the jewelry store mentioned when I asked where to drink that I wouldn't go to. A bar so awful, so fratastic Jersey shore debauchery that even undergrad me would have eschewed it. A bar...just...I have no words. Senor Frogs. God help me I was at Senor Frogs in Waikiki. I have never been so convinced I was going to be date raped at a place. It's totally date rapey there. Thank god it was early and I'm a girl so that the bouncer let me bypass the $10 cover because that would have just been more than I can handle.

I sat at the bar, made friends with the one adorable bartender, texted my step sister, drank her special cocktail (bicardi limon and tonic, which I changed to soda). And then made friends with a bunch of short Air Force guys who were in town for one night on their way to Guam tomorrow. (Ohhhh and why were they were going to Guam from Travis all of a sudden in the midst of Thanksgiving? I wonder...) At this point I'm beyond just liquid courage and into liquid stupidity. So yeah. There *may* have been some drunken dancing to bad pop music in Senor Frogs. There may have been some making out with an Air Force guy. And I have no idea how my directionally challenged self managed to make it back down Waikiki to her hotel but I did it.

And now I am hungover and useless and even typing the word mai tai makes me want to throw up a little. Thank god for a) room service and b) Dr Pepper available in the lobby of my tower at this massive hotel.

Now if only LSU can figure out how to beat the freaking Hogs...

LSU fucking lost which is all sorts of annoying but that's okay Imma go eat some Kalua pork for dinner and imagine it's tasty Razorback. Also, in my hour at the pool I had the following conversation with my mother:


Mom: There was a girl out here earlier who had an Oklahoma Longhorns shirt on.
Me: Oklahoma Sooners or Texas Longhorns. There is no Oklahoma Longhorn.
Mom: Whatever. I don't know. It was orange and had horns on it. 
Me: Texas Longhorns. 


You think in all my years of college football fandom something would have rubbed off on her but nooooo. At least she supports me watching it all day in my hotel room. And okayed my hungover ass ordering a burger from room service. $18 burger. Plus $12 room service delivery charge. Now the most expensive burger in the history of eating burgers. But she said it was cool. Nom nom nom nom.