Showing posts with label the princess. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the princess. Show all posts

7.24.2007

iPod Meme

Remember Meaningless Memes Week last March? Well, I just watched the third and least satisfying of the Pirates movie and am stunned by my lack of brain power. So guess what you get more of? That's right:



What does next year have in store for you?
Doesn’t Remind Me – Audioslave

What’s your love life like?
Disconnected – Goo Goo Dolls

What do you say when life gets hard?
Beautiful – Open Window

What do you think of on waking up?
I Like Dirt – Red Hot Chili Peppers

What song will you dance to at my wedding?
Your Girl – Mariah Carey

What do you want as a career?
Sweetness – Jimmy Eat World

Your favourite saying?
Giving In – Adema

Your favourite place?
Can I Walk By – Jazze Phe featuring Monica

What do you think of your parents?
Don’t Let Go - Weezer

Your pornstar name?
Love Don’t Cost a Thing – J. Lo (clearly I’m a poor pornstar)

Where would you go on a first date?
Under My Voodoo - Sublime

Drug of choice?
Big Bang Baby – Stone Temple Pilots

Describe yourself.
Like a Stone – Audioslave

What is the thing you like doing most?
Thief of Hearts – Madonna

What is your state of mind like at the moment?
I See Sound – Moth

How will you die?
Your Embrace – Shakira



Tagged for this silly experiment are the girls: Fresh Blade, Princess, and Sasha X.

6.02.2007

May by the Numbers

The birthday month is always the best on record. As far as I'm concerned, the year starts on May 1st and everything prior to that day is just a warm up.

This year it was fucking fantastic.

1 stunningly glowing review received for a job well done, again
2 Cinco de Mayo celebrations
1 pair of underwear lost to a rabid dog

12 miles driven for that privilege
3 moms at a Mother's Day garden brunch
1 G-brat being picky and proud of it
12 pink roses bestowed on her for an amusing dance debut
15 dollars spent between me and the Princess trying to win tickets at Chuck E. Cheese

3 major birthdays celebrated
9 separate birthday celebrations for me alone
4 of which included a sushi dinner - yum!
1 surprise cake with lawyers
1 happy birthday sung by my own curly-haired rock star
9 days between the date and his finally calling to apologize for missing it
5 more days until he arrived to make up for it in person

2 tequila sensations made by the hottie ninja bartender
2 piñatas
5 blindfolded adults battling to bust one open
510 dollars received in birthday cash

5-10: my actual date of birth
5'10": the height I currently have to reach to get a good night kiss
2 nights spent doing just that

3 musicians hung out with in a single weekend
2 photographed playing with the Krazy kids
7 photo shoots
1 case of mistaken identity prior to winning on American Idol
2 unfortunate run-ins with a Cat Burglar

3 mentees adopted for the next TNT running season
4 consecutive days off
5 ladies who lunch
2 noisy Lear jets out the window
5 glasses of champagne imbibed
3 Tums needed for that silliness
23 blogs posted
13 of which were about my birthday
0 spankings received for turning 29
1 29-year-old brat currently loving life

5.28.2007

Overheard at the Krazy BBQ

'Tis the weekend for memorializing via grilled meat. Which I did twice. First at my birthday spicnic (so called because it's a bunch of hispanics in the park, like you needed that explained), then today at Chez Krazy.

On the invite list: me, the Princess, her Rock Star, the Lead Singer of
his band, and that guy's Model Girlfriend. Imagine all of us wearing mom jeans in suburbia and playing Wii.

Not.

Well, we did mess around creating
Jordin Sparks lookalikes on the Wii and then ate copious quantities of chicken before a deathmatch air hockey tournament. Some of the highlights:

As I arrived, the Krazy Daddy met me outside his garage, and we walked in the side door.

KD: Hey KM, look what I brought home! I found a brown person wandering around suburbia!
GPG: And he let me come in the back!

***
Krazy Daddy vs. The Rock Star at air hockey

Rock Star: KD is serious about this game. *puck flies into his hand*
RS: Ouch! Damn, watch my fingers.
GPG: He kind of needs that hand.
RS: Or else we won't get a gold record.
Krazy Daddy: Why not shoot for platinum?
RS: I'm trying to remain realistic.

***

Krazy Mommy: Who wants cherry pie for desert?
Lead Singer: *to the Rock Star* OH! I totally forgot to tell you!! There's a teeny tiny chance we might get to open for Warrant!!
Krazy Daddy: Oh, we partied with them in Aspen.
GPG: *to the Princess* Look at the world they live in, and the world we live in. Aspen? Shit.

***

KD: Where's our daughter?
KM: Inside watching The Little Mermaid.
GPG: You left her in there alone with a rock star and a model? She's going to end up with a heroin habit.*

***

KM: It's our youngest daughter we have to worry about. She's the one with Bitch Potential.
KD: She takes after my wife.
KM: You're a W-A-N-K-E-R!

(There was a child in the room, hence the spelling.)

***

Princess: And they have fart wars on the road.
GPG: Ew, why are boys so gross?
Model: Not all boys.
Lead Singer: Yeah, I don't do it. And that's why I have my own room in the back.
GPG: No that's because you're a prima donna.
LS: Yeah.

***

The Krazy's eldest daughter is almost 4. She came over and whispered something I didn't quite get.

GPG: Thanks, sweetie. *to KM* What did she say?
KM: I love your stinky face.
GPG: Oh, I heard sexy face.
KM: Yeah, because my kids go around all day singing "I'm too sexy for my toys!"

They might. While I was outside on the phone, the KM came out and flashed me her boobies. Then she and the Princess did the can-can.

I love my friends.



*None of these people actually engage in nefarious drug use. They're not exactly towing the stereotypical model/rock star line. Such disappointments.

4.17.2007

Overheard in Bally's Parking Lot

My assistant (aka "the slave") is hell bent on teaching us a new hobby.

GPG: Oh, we're learning to knit tomorrow.

Princess: What the fuck?

GPG: Yeah, it's called a "stitch & bitch." I don't know. *shrugs*

Princess: Okay...

GPG: That's what happens when you have a slave.*

Then a black woman walked by. I'm so unfailingly and unapologetically politically incorrect sometimes, I just fall all over myself in hysterical laughter.



*For the record, my slave is a Greek girl. I'm just a half-step away from getting that Greek manservant I've been wishing for!

4.16.2007

Overheard at Staples Center

As the Clippers wind down their increasingly disappointing season (still love them!), here are some excerpts of conversations overheard behind the basket.

Corey Maggette misses a key shot.
GPG: Dammit! Okay, he's on your team.
Princess: Ooh, I thought I was going to have to fight for that one.
GPG: He's hot. Incredible arms. But you can have him.
Princess: Just remember no taksey-backsies!

(It's a legal term.)

***

I spot a woman wearing the latest in Aunt Jemima hair accessories.
GPG: Oh damn, I left my green doo-rag at home! Now I'm completely underdressed.
Princess: Oh fuck me running! That's why I love you!

***

The ref calls traveling.
GPG: Traveling? Seriously?
Princess: No he didn't!
GPG: Who does that anymore? It's like getting the chicken pox at 29. It doesn't happen!!

(Okay, it does. And one of my clients just got it at 45. But I was trying to make a point. Traveling? REALLY?)

Then there was the cheerleader who kept getting thrown up in the air. You don't realize till you're sitting right next to it just how high up they get. I wondered out loud if she got frequent flyer points. The Princess laughed. It was funny.

The male cheerleaders were on my team. Because I was in the mood for excessively well-built, so-hot-they're-almost-too-pretty type of men. Then we went up to the bar and the excessively well-built bartender took care of us.

It was a good night. Even if they did lose.

4.08.2007

I Still Haven't Finished My Taxes

Fucking IRS. Fucking itemizing.

I took a break last night to watch the Clippers give it up in the last quarter to Denver. Fucking Denver.

I have never sat down on the floor at Staples Center. I usually manage to score a seat in a skybox, high above the action. Where the alcohol is free and the chocolate cake gives me hives just by standing too close to it. No joke, it's that potent.

But the Princess got us tickets down low, and I love me some basketball, so off we went. We rode the choo-choo, despite the fact that I have free parking just 10 blocks away. But walking 10 blocks in downtown Los Angeles, at night, is like asking to be ass-raped with a cactus. So we took the subway.

It's very clean, the LA subway system. Strange.

So down there we are, enjoying the fact that you can almost smell the sweat coming off the big, hot, black men on the court. We banged our noisemakers. We made friends with the surrounding Clipper Nation. I drooled over the older white guy in our row who looked vaguely familiar. We played several rounds of "My Team, Your Team."

Every single Clippers game I've ever been to has ended in victory. For us. Every. Single. Game. What was different about this time? I was down on the floor? I was with a girl? I wasn't drinking?

And we lost. Fucking hell.

That's the last time I do that. Next time, I'm drinking!

3.19.2007

The Harem, Part 2

Continuing on with why you should click on the blogroll links:

FreshBlade - The tales of an undercover surgeon who I strongly suspect has an Irish accent. Despite the fact that this incarnation is just a few posts old, I'm willing to bet there will be a lot of entertaining "blethering," some very good examples of photographic wonder, and also tales of the what hospital life is like behind the scenes. À la Scrubs, but with more redheads and not-American accents.

GeezohPetes! - The trials and tribulations of one Roonie-licious, who lives her life out loud and without regard for your rules of her behavior. I admire her for her scathing and well-written honesty. She's great at wielding words like a sword and will cut you down in no time flat. She's one of my favoritest real life in person people who just happens to blog too, but now that she's off in Tejas, I rely on her blog to keep me looped in to the cowboy culture.

Jennie SMASH - I'd been reading Jennie's blog for a couple of years before I had the balls to link to it because she's, like, a professional writer. You know, one of those intimidating people that actually gets paid to commit thoughts to paper and is good with them words? Yeah, one of those. I have a soft spot for NYers who aren't native but still all about the city. Kind of in the exact opposite way that I feel about non-native Angelenos. Read her. Now.

Jet Blach Jabber - I forced H. Wood to be my friend when he moved to Los Angeles last summer, mostly because he seemed to like to drink and who doesn't like fresh meat new people? He played along for a while. He also used to be one of those real writer people, which is what makes his blog a good read. Someone who can actually write, imagine! He's inconsistent with his posting, which is infuriating, but we do allow people to have actual lives here at Exoterica. I guess.

Just Another Girl... - Kali found me through Roonie and I have since stolen her idea for naming your girlie parts. Mostly because the Girls and I will use any excuse to introduce new words into the lexicon, and crotchles is the best one yet. Plus, she has kind of an art deco French boudouir thing going on with her blog template. And she seems like a nice girl.

Lil Bit of This... - The Princess is one of my oldest friends and makes up one-fourth of the aforementioned Girls who make life delicious. By default, she is given a spot in The Harem. Plus, she likes to rant about bullshit she has to deal with, like the fact that a SWAT team was running around her neighborhood the other morning, which she now firmly believes is a ghetto. (She doesn't actually live in the ghetto, but a very nice neighborhood within a mile of a golf course, so don't be fooled.) She also has more boobs than brains, but that's just a joke I came up with at Disneyland. Her brain is very big, but her boobies protect us from terrorists.

3.11.2007

Overheard at Disneyland

Today is the Princess' 29th birthday. She and I have been friends since we were seven years old. There are many, many, many memories spanning those 22 years. Like NKOTB. Heh.

To celebrate, we spent Saturday at Disneyland. What happens when The Girls get together? Zaniness. Add a dash of the happiest place on earth, and we're full on wacko (especially after the margaritas at Ariel's Grotto...thank god they didn't give us whipped cream!).

At the Princess' house before we left:

Princess: Here's a picture from us in 6th grade!
GPG: Oh Jesus Christ...look, there's the Princess with her real hair color.
La Ria: *smirks* Nice dresses.
GPG: It was 1990, ruffles were in!

***

In the car on the way in:

GPG: *to the Princess* How did we get back in touch?
P: Myspace...I found you on JTS' page and figured if he remembered me, you'd have to.
Krazy Mommy: *from the front seat* Wait, who are you again?

***

On the carousel:

GPG: Did you guys ever read this blog about naming your vaginas? I'm gonna start calling it Crotchles.
LR: The Crothles District!
GPG: Since KM has kids, she should call hers Bertha.
KM: No, that's my grandmother's name!!

(We nearly fell off our animals, we were laughing so hard at this.)

KM: Instead of the Vagina Monologues, we can call it the Vagina Dialogue.
LR: VD!
GPG: We have VD.

***

Continuing in the line to Pirates of the Caribbean:

KM: Since La Ria is so quiet and sweet, we should calls hers something sassy. Like your alter ego.
LR: Quiet and sweet?
P: Yeah, so it should be something evil!
KM: Like the Devil Inside.
P: Or Pillowpants!!
LR: Huh?
GPG: Didn't you see Clerks 2???
LR: I don't remember that.
GPG: Movie night on Friday: we're watching Borat and Clerks 2, dammit.
P: Got them both.
GPG: And I'm going to call it Meow-meow from now on.

***

On the tram back to the car:

GPG: Back to the gym this week, Princess?
P: Definitely.
KM: I don't know how you guys work out, I hate it.
P: The endorphins are really great.
GPG: Sometimes almost better than a Meow-meow workout!

We talk about sex and our privates a lot. Girls are just like guys in that respect, we're just prettier and have boobies.

And I'm sure there are a lot of other funny things we said and did, but after 12 hours at D-land, we hurted a lot. I sounded like a 30-year smoker all day Sunday from all the screaming on the rides all day. Hot.

But that's why I love my girls. Happy birthday, little one!! Hope the Rock Star makes it a good one tonight. ;)

2.12.2007

Super Boobie Power

What started as a conversation about my vanity (because I just noticed wrinkles around my eyes today and am feeling fucking old!), led to a followup to yesterday's boobie talk.

Because if there's one thing we girls love, it's our tits:

Krazy Mommy: Just as long as you don't get old in the boobs. If Bush doesn't get out of Iraq soon we may need your missile deflecting boobs to protect us!

Princess: Well I hope that I get some compensation for that one. Geez I don’t want them blown off, then what the hell is going to protect us?

KM: I think you are well compensated. We give them plenty of attention, sometimes a little touchy feely and sometimes they even get dessert! Hehe

P: Yeah yeah, it’s all fine and good but that all ends the minute they get blown up!

KM: Thats ok. Dr. 90210 can make you more, maybe he'll throw in a free amplification shot.

La Ria: To be on the safe side, just like you would keep a spare tire in your trunk, we would need to make sure we have a spare boob set. Any volunteers?

KM: Mine are too deflated. Sorry, 3 kids sucked the life out of them.

GPG: Mine are not nearly as big as the Princess', but I'll offer mine up in case hers are injured in the line of duty.

KM: Does that mean we have to give them lots of attention too, so they will be ready to go if needed?

LR: GPG, you're a real patriot.


I totally am.

2.11.2007

Overheard at Jerry's Deli

Princess: When they asked if I'd been in the Air Force during 9/11, I said yeah. So they said thanks for protecting our country.

GPG: By living in the sand.

Princess: Yeah. But I did get shot at!

Krazy Mommy: Her boobs protected the plane! They deflected the missle.

GPG: That's your superpower: boobie bullet deflection.

So the Princess protects us against terrorism by having gianormous mammaries. Awesome. My superpower is that even though I have a maniacal giggle, I'm cute and everyone naturally loves me.

Which makes it very easy to manipulate the masses to do my bidding.

*evil laugh*

What's your superpower?

1.07.2007

The Plan

Last week the Princess turned me on to this. While I think people who elect to eat out of dumpsters are nuts, the idea of living a nearly consumption-free lifestyle has its appeal.

First off, it would certainly go a long way towards helping with that whole debt resolution I made. And I've already decided I'm not buying any new clothes until I absolutely have to (quick aside, I went exactly 3 months, 2 weeks, and 1 day without repeating an outfit. It finally happened last Tuesday...so ridiculous that I could even pull that off). So except for some absolute essentials, this shouldn't be too difficult. I figure the real point is to divest yourself of the unnecessary material things so you can appreciate the more intangible things. Like good company.

(It's wonderful how idealistic one can be at the beginning of a journey. Check back with me in May to see how long I can pull this off...)

The following list is what I am allowed to spend money on:

  • Food
  • Hygiene products
  • Photography supplies (but not new equipment)
  • Batteries for cameras, remote controls, etc
  • Running paraphernalia (I'll need new shoes before the LB marathon)
  • Monthly brunches with the girls
  • Car maintenance, including gas
  • Bikini waxes
  • Manicures/pedicures (but only for special events)
  • Necessary repairs

I'm also allowed one movie every three months and we've made spending exceptions for birthdays. Because we can't NOT celebrate our birthdays! But this means no new cellphone like I'd planned (not like I need one, I just want a Treo), no more impulse buys, and seriously little socializing.

L'sigh.

1.02.2007

The Year Ahead

2006 didn’t measure up to expectations. AT ALL. But for each of the bad things that came to pass, there was an equally—if not better—event to compensate. Such as:

  • The evil Engineer breaking my heart as I was almost literally on my way to a funeral for crying out loud. That lovely combination of events led to 3 weeks of the worst flu I’ve ever had, BUT also motivated me to make some drastically healthier choices, like running marathons and raising money for cancer research. Then I cut off all my hair and sent it to the bald kids.
  • Losing a job that I absolutely loved led to 2 months of reckless unemployment, and drinking with this boy, who is really fabulous. Though he doesn’t blog nearly often enough, he’s fucking brilliant, so go read. I also found a job that, though lacking in certain pecuniary aspects, has me liking it in spite of myself. Mostly because it's finally challenging me in the right way. And (as an added bonus) puts me in a position to rub elbows with the mayor. And the District Attorney. And the Attorney General. Next month. Oh yeah.

So 2007 can’t be much worse. Then again, I said the same thing about my New Year’s Eve plans…and ended up doing nearly exactly the same thing for the second year in a row (albeit minus the evil Engineer. But then again, also lacking mimosas in bed until 2 pm the next day. You win some, you lose some.).

Other truly great things have happened in the past 12 months: C-dub got engaged, the Little Princess met her Prince, my brother’s cd dropped, UCLA beat USC for the first time in seven years, and I got to spend some major quality time with my favorite boy.

Okay, so I was wrong. It was a pretty damn good year! All that AND I’ve acquired a fabulous motley crew of drinking buddies. And really, what more does one really need in life?

In 2007, as I enter the last year of my 20s, I will have a new niece or nephew, celebrate my first blogiversary, handle some of the most prestigious events of my career thus far, and hopefully continue to learn and grow from the many mistakes I still have yet to make. So here are some more guidelines for the upcoming year:

  • Less procrastination and more organization (I’m tired of my bedroom looking like a papermill exploded because I let my mail pile up).
  • Debt be gone! I’ve devised a plan that will keep me painfully poor for most of the year, but will finally allow me to start living nearly debt-free in 2008. Right before I turn 30!
  • Stop being the sole catalyst behind friendships that are about to expire. I’m seriously tired of feeling like the one always making the effort to stay in touch with people who might otherwise fall off the face of the earth. I am no longer putting up with flakes. If you love me, prove it. Otherwise, you can rest comfortably in GPG Jail, where we throw away the keys and forget about the inmates.
  • Improve my penmanship...it's a sign of a disorganized mind.
  • Get that damn passport.
  • And no more blogs whining about my life. I promise to be better. For you guys.

And that’s it about it. Just enough to keep me out of trouble.

What's everyone else resolving to do this year?

12.19.2006

Aerobic Hell


On Monday nights, the Princess and I usually enjoy the an hour of cardio kickboxing to set the week off right.

This last Monday, our instructor was nowhere to be found. Hopefully she wasn't abducted by aliens. Nevertheless, a high energy replacement came to take her place. Except he wasn't running kickboxing. He was the "Hi/Lo" instructor. And he was fucking psycho.

He looked a little bit like
Luis Guzman, if Luis was a drill seargent on speed. He started booming into the microphone and would. Not. Quit.

We weren't sure exactly what this "Hi/Lo" mumbo-jumbo meant. Were we in for a nasty surprise!


There was weirdo choreography with kicking and knee raises and you had to keep your arms up no matter how much they started to hurt, and the music was sped up so it was like working out to the fucking Chipmunks, and all the while the Princess and I were spinning in the wrong direction and looking at each other like WHAT THE FUCK?!

After 30 minutes we just couldn't hang anymore. My feet hurt as much as they do when I hit the 9th mile of an endurance run. And after running the day before, my hips were hating me. This didn't help our relationship.

The guy was Puerto Rican. I thought he'd be cool, not a workout nazi. Not so much. On the way out, the Princess told me I should cut him.

Hee. For a split second, I forgot how we deal with these little situations.

Next time...

12.05.2006

A Drinking Holiday!


Waiter had this to say today. I think it's a fabulous idea since it combines two of my favorite things: history and drinking!

Since most of you won't read this until December 6th, and I have to work late, you are invited to celebrate a belated Repeal Day with me at the Vine Street Lounge on Thursday night. Sanction, hugely famous in North Dakota, will finally be gracing Los Angeles with their presence again and I'll be there drinking tequila.

Like a good little American.

As an added bonus, you can meet me, the Princess, and our boobies (which will be on parade!). It's a guaranteed good time.

If you are not in the LA area, please do your part and have a stiff drink. It's your duty as a citizen of this country. For you non-American readers, don't feel as if you can't play along at home. I highly encourage everyone to drink!

11.09.2006

More Coffee Break Fun


Earlier this week, I gave you a glimpse into my afternoon fun time with the Princess. It really is the best way to pass that last hour before The Man releases you out to play. I highly recommend getting your own Princess. No, you can't have mine. Because who else would I have this conversation with?

Ghetto Photo Girl: i need something to drink

GPG: like tequila

GPG: not that i need to drown my sorrows, it just sounds really good

Princess: yeah that does sound good

GPG: i forgot that i took all the margarita mix to your house last time

GPG: i was actually thinking of making myself one last night

P: Oh that sucks

P: I'm sorry

GPG: it's okay

GPG: i never crave one

GPG: must be pregnant

P: yeah

P: and when are you due hehehehe

GPG: um, 9 months from now

P: sweet

P: and what do you want a boy or a girl

GPG: i'd like a 3-headed monster, please

P: can we name it charlie

GPG: charlie, the 3-headed rat child

GPG: i'll give it to the circus

GPG: not rat, cat

GPG: charlie, the 3-headed cat burglar love child

P: He can play with buzby if you keep him

GPG: won't buzby be dead by then? seeing as how he's aging into oblivion?

P: nah, he's lasted this long

P: he might be crazy though

GPG: which is fine

GPG: the rat-cat love child with 3 heads won't mind

11.06.2006

Instead of a Coffee Break


This is how the Princess amuses me during the day, over Instant Messenger:

Princess: and there is nowhere here you can really go by yourself.

Me: you can take your imaginary friend

Princess: Well bubzy doesn't deal well in public places

Me: leave it to you to have an agoraphobic imaginary friend

Princess: Yeah

Princess: I think it's his alzheimers though. he's getting on in age.

Princess: Imaginary friends age faster than real ones

Me: was he a butler?

Princess: nah

Me: because buzby is kind of a butler-y name

Princess: He's a computer geek

Me: who has alzheimer's? that explains so much about you

She's absolutely crazy and that's why I love her. She's also currently compiling a list of really funny shit. Go add to it!

***

In other news, Happy Birthday to my lovely C-dub!! She's almost legal now!!

10.29.2006

Conversations with Friends


Because the Princess and I love Halloween, we kicked the weekend off with a trip to Knott's Berry Farm's Halloween Haunt. Being the last weekend before the big night, it was a nightmare getting there. 2.5 hours in traffic, me driving...and then only 20 minutes to get home. We love LA, but not Orange County. Here's what happens when two girls spend too much time stuck inside a car that isn't moving:

Ghetto Photo Girl: Is that guy going to try to get in my lane?

Princess: Yeah, that fucker.

GPG: *banging the steering wheel* Thupid Lexus!!!

***

P: At least we don't get snow.

GPG: I hate snow! That shit's just wrong.

P: Yeah, and when you're driving in it, it's just like going warp speed in Star Wars.

GPG: Fucking devil crystals falling from the sky! It's the Devil's crack, snow!

P: Oh, fuck me running!

***

GPG: Are we there yet?

P: Mom, are we there yet?!

GPG: Dammit my hips hurt. I don't think I'm getting any blood to my lower half anymore. My vagina-brain has no blood!!

P: *laughing* Oh damn...you're going to blog about this, aren't you?

***

P: So she asks me what I do, and I told her I work with blue prints and architects and whatnot. And then she asked what blueprints are.

GPG: No she didn't.

P: Yeah, and I tried to explain. So she finally goes, "oh, you play with maps?"

GPG: *snicker*

***

GPG: Cyclamen Street?

P: Yeah, it's a flower.

GPG: Sounds like a birth control pill.

P: No, it's a flower.

GPG: I still think they're going to name a pill after it.

***

GPG: *getting catatonic* It's 1:42 am. Been a while since I saw this side of night.

P: *equally tired* Yeah.

GPG: It feels sleepy, 1:42 am. And so do I.

8.11.2006

Party Like It's 1996!


My 10 year high school reunion is next weekend. The Princess and I have opted to go sans male escorts for the opportunity to tag along with the Queen of Suburbia/Krazy Mommy and her husband.

Like a harem. Because a night with my oldest childhood friends is nothing if not a Boobies on Parade event.

I've been excited about this for a really long time. I'm in that -.0007% that actually enjoyed high school. It was so easy! My parents let me get away with all sorts of shit because I brought home the grades. And they had no idea that some of my closest friends were notorious drug addicts since they were so polite when they came over to the house.

Man, those were some good times. And through the magic of Myspace, I've been reliving them for the better part of the last week.

I just want to get dressed up and party! And catch up with everyone I haven't seen since June 1996. Back before I dropped out of the Ivy League, before I lost my kick-ass job, before I wrote a blog all about myself.

I had been putting off buying a dress for the occasion, when I decided to give my existing wardrobe the once over. And there was the perfect burgundy cocktail dress that I had completely forgotten I own. Score! I love shopping in my own closet.

Now I just have to decide which pair of strappy 3-inch stilettos I'm pairing with it.

Oh, my life. So hard!