Tracing the Days and Nights

I forgot about how I use this blog as a time capsule. And the lack of blogging for the last few weeks might come back to bite me in the ass if I don't go burying nuggets of personal historical info in it and soon.

What's been going on? Well it turns out I own a dress that possesses magical powers. I don't know what it is about it, but every time I wear it, people go out of their way to compliment me. Like, emphatically. It's very...nice.

So when I thought I might run into someone from over the summer, I figured there would be no harm in wearing it. Nope, no harm. None. Not for the entire cocktail reception. Not on the corner outside the bar. Not in his car. And especially not from his office on the 19th floor of a downtown high rise. Overlooking the city. At night.

I'm clearly using my powers for good. It's delicious.

I Still Love Donuts!

And I refuse to apologize for it.

Find me on Twitter if you want to know how I celebrated La Ria's birthday by wearing the big girl lipstick.

Happy birthday, Ria!!!

Delectable Treats

Very soon, I'm going to start documenting the hijinx that have ensued from the Dating 2.0 experiment.  Like how I ended up on a date with an angry gay man.

I do NOT recommend it.

But till then, I have a new love to tell you about: crumb doughnuts.  They're my new guilty pleasure.  I cannot get enough of them.  And they give me heartburn, but I don't care because they're so damn good.

For conquering the US Bank Tower on Friday, my parents bought me a box.  We had them for dinner.  They pair perfectly with a little rosé.  I'm going to have one for breakfast tomorrow.  And there's nothing you can do to stop me!

Mmm, doughnuts.

Back at the Ranch

The checklist before the weekend:
1. New boy earning further dating adventures and, by extenstion, a nickname

2. Find job leads at the conference

Things I learned during my weekend in Tucson:
1. Drinking is a very important part of networking.  Because when under the influence of Lagavulin 16, you will agree to serve on committees that will eat up all your valuable and precious little free time.  And said committees will not only greatly enhance your resume, they will also put you in closer contact with the perfect people to help steer your career.

2. The boys are all gay, and you will end up watching football with women.  All of who individually know more about it than all the boys combined.

3. A flight delay means more time to watch football with said women, all of whom are invaluable career resources.

4. Football is also a very important part of networking.

So while the trip was exceptionally successful, the boy has not yet earned himself a nickname.  But that's more his problem than mine.

Off to the Grand Canyon State

I just finished packing for my weekend trip to Tucson.  And I found a pair of undies in my overnight bag (which doubles as my "smaller" carry-on).  Which makes me wonder who I visited last I used said bag...

There will be a breakfast before departure.  We'll see if he earns a nickname eventually. 

In the meantime, enjoy your weekend while I party in the desert with a cadre of event planners.  Maybe I'll come back with job leads.

Keep your fingers crossed!

Cream of the Crop

Online dating is absolutely magical.  You single people out there, have you tried this yet?  It's awesome.

Here's why:

Before I go out with someone, he has to write me an email.  Lets repeat: he has to WRITE to me.  It's the perfect vetting system for the grammar nazi in me.

I really love this new social networking world.  Dating 2.0.  It's rad.

Random Rooftop Encounters

I love networking events.  They're always in cool locations, filled with people who will help move my career along.

And, of course, there's free alcohol.  Mmm.

But why is it you always meet the most colorful people at the end of the night?  Just as I was walking out, I bumped into a woman who told me she was a professional man-watcher.  I told her that's what I wanted to be when I grow up.  She said to me, "honey, it's about NEVER growing up!"

And then I spent the next hour and a half chatting with her.  We didn't leave until they had to break our table down.  She was that awesome. 

Then, as we were finally walking to our cars, she stopped me and said, "you have the best legs!  I wish I had those legs.  Girl, you have to STRUT those.  Hike your skirt up!"

Then she proceeded to do the can-can. 

This is my life.  For reals.

Eight Years Later

She saw the missed calls on her cell phone and she cursed him for not learning the new number. 2 calls, four hours apart, one message.

"Hey sweetie. Hopefully you get this before the end of the day. If not, maybe we'll catch up sometime during the week."

It was 7:30 am the next morning when she heard it. 10:30 on the east coast. He'd be at work. Wouldn't answer his cell.

"Hey sweetheart. You have to stop calling that other number. I just got your message. Sounds intriguing...let me know what's going on."

At 5 pm her time, he let her in on the news. He was moving back to the town they'd made their playground for 3 years.

2 years ago they'd met up in Dallas, both on business trips. That was the weekend they'd decided they were both adults. And felt good about it.

Now he's coming back. All grown up. Everything has changed. They really are adults with real jobs. No more rock shows, no more whoring for the camera.

But their friendship still runs deep. Nothing can change that.

Where's Florida this Year?

With UCLA and Stanford barely squeaking out wins tonight, there was much hyperventilating at my house. And also text messages with Jack (who doesn't post anymore, so no linkage for you!) about Kansas. They pretty much made UNLV cry. Nice job.

Yay Pac-10 teams! Except for USC. But as Jack learned, we hate them anyway. Losers.

Now I want SD to take out Western KY (yes, I'm a 12 year old boy and snickered when I wrote that) so my baby brother and I can have a little cross-county rivalry before UCLA moves on to the Final Four.

I love March. But I do miss the Gator's hottie coach. L'sigh.

Into the Big Blue Sea

Bob Schneider knew what he was talking about in that song from 40 Day and 40 Nights. Which was a better movie than the completely unrelated 30 Days of Night. Oddly enough, both starred Josh Hartnett. Not important. Back to Austin favorite Bob. When you're overwhelmed and in despair, the only thing to do is take to the ocean.

Or something. Which is why tomorrow, the Krazy Mommy and I will be celebrating 25 years of friendship and 30 years of age on top of a rock wall, floating out in the Pacific Ocean. Please don't send pirates.

It has been an incredibly stressful month. I pulled off some more of those sweet tricks that solidified my already strong reputation, and tonight, bought me a huge bottle of San Matias. My clients adore me, and my job comes with some fabulous perks, but I've earn every fucking second of this very short vacation.

So if you don't hear from us again, it's because we opted to stay in Mexico. Have a great weekend while we're in a foreign country.

Craziness P-ersonified

I was all set to bitch about my 12 hour day--after I'd sworn off 12 hour days this year! But really it's just due to the fact that my life is so hard, I spent 3 hours at Simon LA over at the Sofitel Hotel. Which, by the way, is not as fancy a hotel as it wants to pretend it is. Expensive and trendy? Okay. But fancy? Fuck no. I'll go to the Bel Aire Hotel or the Beverly Hilton for "fancy," you overpriced, arrogant and quite dumpy hotel!

Back to my point: 12 hours!

Then I came home and Little Bull--winner of our last contest--had written about yesterday's glorious game and I just think that Eli Manning is the cutest little mouth breather on the planet, and I'd really love to have his babies if I could be guaranteed they wouldn't come out retarded, but I'll settle for just his jersey because this has officially become a run-on sentence and my brain has exploded.

But none of that is important because through LB I found us another blog that will definitely make you squirt coke through your nose, which burns like a bitch because coke should only go UP your nose, not OUT it, and there I go with another run on sentence.

Want to guess what drugs I'm on? Did I mention they serve cotton candy at Simon LA? Do you know that cotton candy is PURE FUCKING SUGAR and I'm still bouncing off the walls even though my lunch meeting ended 4 hours ago?

Go read My Crazy Roommate. It's really that good. Like a Super Bowl upset!

Confidential to Jack: I interpreted your text message to mean you would have taken the safe bet. Didn't your mama teach you to believe in the underdog? For shame!

Krazy Mommy is Now Officially Old

You might notice things are a little different today. Just slightly. We're celebrating, hence the purple.

Because it's finally happened: Krazy Mommy, the Queen of Suburbia, is THIRTY YEARS OLD today.

And everyone needs to know that. So you can wish her happy birthday. Or mock her for being older than you. Go ahead, I dare you.

Also she loves purple. And I love her. So there.

Happy birthday to my OLDEST friend--we've known each other for 24 years! It's only T-37 days till we celebrate for realsies: with Bellinis and a rock wall!

This is going to be a fantastic year.

Photoblogging 1.21.08

These holidays completely throw me off balance. That's why this week's photo is late. You'll forgive me if you like pink boxing gloves.

Knocking out cancer

Another installment of the calendar for charity. I have no idea if the pictures I'm posting here are going to make it into said calendar, I just like them. And have thoroughly enjoyed shooting them. The models were a laugh riot and I finally rediscovered how much I like playing with my little black box. I forgot how much fun it can be. And how good I am.

Enjoy.

Happy Birthday, Daddy!

You know how sometimes you'll drink so much while you're having a really good time that it doesn't hit you until waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay later?

One glass of scotch (I love me those 18 year olds...). One glass of Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand. I'm totally looped out. Yet I somehow managed to drive us home.

It was a good night, just me and my daddy enjoying scotch. And celebrating his birthday.

A really good night.

New Greatness

Have you felt the void lately? Relax, the cure has arrived. Wonderful reads available for immediate consumption at Big Bang Linguisticity!

The internets are complete yet again.

Overheard on Christmas

I don't know if it's a Latin American thing or what, but we've always celebrated Xmas on the Eve rather than the day of. The entire family gets together at my parents' house for a meal that includes mostly Puerto Rican fare, topped with Mexican salsa. It's fusion at its best.

Like most Puerto Ricans, our family is LOUD. Mostly because there's a lot of people in one space, but also, because they're Puerto Ricans. You have to be able to handle this if you're ever invited to a family function. The weak are eaten alive or summarily ignored. Those who have a mouth on them and like to use it are immediately adopted.

The Thanksgiving Incident was referred to numerous times. We like to poke fun at ourselves, and by extension, the rest of the family. And since some of the family hadn't been there, we had to bring them up to speed.

During a particularly rousing game of Mexican bingo, the following took place at increasingly decibel levels:

GPG: You guys, keep it down, or my mother is going to throw you all out!
Mom: *rolls eyes and chuckles*
Aunt J: You were in Hancock Park for crying out loud, what did you expect?
Cousin R: *loudly* We expected them not to be so uptight!
Aunt J: *louder* Eh, you were being low class, of course you got thrown out!
GPG: Mom, are you going to tell these people to shut up and go home already?

This threat kept coming up the rest of the night. It was much fun at someone else's expense.

***

My father believes everyone should drink wine. You don't get to come over to our house and not drink. He takes this as a personal insult:

Dad: *to my younger cousin* You want a drink?
GPG: Dad, he's only 15!
Dad: So?
Cousin: It's okay. I don't drink.
Dad: Well, I'm surprised.

***

The elder generation likes big families. My father has 6 brothers and sisters, my mom has 3. My mom's sister, Aunt L, had 5 kids. Apparently she and her husband expect the same of their own kids:

Uncle: I want 25 grandkids.
Cousin: Keep wishing. Or, go to Africa.

Adoption jokes are funny.

***

Later, we plugged in a Wii someone received for Xmas. It started with baseball among the 8-year-old set:

Cousin R: Now, I don't want to see you on 'roids, okay kids?
His brother (their dad): Hey, if you ain't cheating, you ain't trying!

***

And of course, because my baby brother is routinely mistaken for Middle Eastern (and his fiancee actually is), his nascent brood are the butt of more jokes:

Cousin M: Do we have a terrorist in the house?
Cousin R: Great, now we're going to get thrown out because of YOU!
Baby brother: My wife-to-be is actually part terrorist: she's Turkish and Iranian. Total Arab.
Cousin R: No shit?
Shambot: Hell yeah!
GPG: Please, we refer to his kid as Baby Terrorist!
Baby brother: *proudly holds up his son* Terrorist in training!

Politcally correct we are NOT.

***

The Shambot got her nickname because she's clumsy. Like a bad robot. We shouldn't let her drink:

Shambot: Oh no, look what I did! *shows red wine spill on her son's sleeve* I'm not even drunk, I'm just retarded!
GPG: Better on him than my mother's couch!
Shambot: Better on his sleeve than his head!
GPG: You were planning on giving him a Catholic baptism, right? Baptism by alcohol!
Baby brother: Get him a shirt that says, "My mommy spills wine on me."

Religious jokes are funny too, especially on Christmas!

***

When the night was finally winding down, the discussion turned to the baby's inability to sleep through the night already. My older brother, having lived through that hell with his two kids, made a suggestion:

Big Fish: Trust me, read the book. We gave you the book for a reason, READ THE BOOK!
Shambot: I have. But it's hard when you're in the situation and they're crying. I can't just let him cry.
Big Fish: READ THE BOOK! READ THE BOOK! READTHEBOOKREADTHEBOOKREADTHEBOOK!!!
Shambot: *to BF's wife* Your husband is being annoying.
BF's Wife: BF, shut up.
Shambot: Yeah, shut up.

And then it was midnight and time to go to sleep. So we could get up again in 6 hours because they kids hadn't yet opened up ALL their gifts.

Hope your holidays have been as memorable!

Free Gifts

I received an iPod Shuffle from a client today. An early Xmas present. Everyone say "aww" all at once.

I already have an iPod Nano. So what should I do with the Shuffle?

Maybe I'll raffle it off in a future Exxy game.

Be on the lookout!

How to Shop Successfully

Over the weekend I came away with the biggest steal I never imagined. If you want to be a master consumer, do as follows:

1. Drive under an overcast sky and realize you left your cheapie sunglasses at home.
2. Pass by a Ross Store.
3. Become enticed by the prospect of more cheapie sunglasses.
4. Brave a crowded parking lot and holiday shopping crowds at said Ross.
5. Enter Ross.
6. Immediately find 4 pairs of sunglasses that fit the bill.
7. Fall in love with the pair that has no price tag.
8. Decide on two pairs and assume they're both the same non-designer brand.
9. Stand in tiredest looking cashier's line who will ring up both for $6.99.
10. Drive on with hip, supposedly-cheapie sunglasses.
11. The next day, show off really cute sunglasses with coworkers.
12. Have coworker inquire as to brand of sunglasses since they appear designer.
13. Scoff at her because your find is clearly non-designer and cheapie!
14. Check sunglasses and realize they're actually made by Michael Kors.
15. Laugh your ass off.

Ross not sell this particularly over-priced brand of accessories. Someone must have left them by accident and, like an idiot, I assumed they were merchandise. My question is, if you can afford to throw away $200 on non-prescription shades, why are you shopping at Affordable Knock-off Central?

Whatever the reason, thanks!

Overheard during Dessert

Monsieur's gift arrived today. I was so excited, I had to try it on. It's big in the exact perfect way a boyfriend's jacket is supposed to be. And the leather is so very soft.

I'm going to have a hard time not giving it to him for a month. But then it was time to talk about my present, so we had the following conversation over coconut creme brule:

GPG: I got your Xmas present today. It's so fucking cool.

Him: You did?

GPG: What, are we not doing that?

Him: Of course we are.

GPG: Okay good. Because you know what I want? *pulls out Blackberry to show him the website*

Him: Is that a diamond ring?

GPG: No, of course not!

Him: Is it appropriate to be telling me what to get you?

GPG: I'm trying to save you the trouble of figuring out what to get me.

Him: I've never had a problem figuring out what to buy women.

GPG: Really? I wouldn't know that because I've never received a gift from you.

At which point he got my dazzling smile. He just laughed.

GPG: I'm kind of obsessed with that ring. And I think I deserve it.

Him: You definitely deserve it. That, and so much more. That's just the beginning.

At which point he gave me his dazzling smile. I went back to my brule blushing slightly.

I seriously can't wait until Xmas!!!

Maybe I'll go buy him something else too...god, I'm such a girl.

'Tis the Season

I know everyone gets pissed that Thanksgiving is glossed over in favor of the more commercialized and lucrative gift-giving holidays in December, but I just bought Monsieur's gift and I'm feeling pretty damn satisfied with my purchase.

He loves Kenneth Cole. So I got him:



In return, I'm asking for:



And after the conversation we had last night about how I'm awesome at providing him LSU football highlights when he sleeps through the early games, and am therefore the bestest girlfriend ever, I totally deserve it.

Especially since he kept offering me scotch, but I was trying to protect his finances so I only drank beer. The alcohol I like is quite expensive, and he's gotta save it for that fabulous gift.

I really am a great girlfriend. Worth all 3.375 carats.