Let's finish this bitch!

I don't think anyone is celebrating the end of 2008 more than I am. This year, I lost my job, dog (RIP Lord G), love life and most of my optimism. I'm ready for a change.

So tonight, Carly (you remember her) is forcing me to go to Brooklyn (which is huge because I NEVER go to the BK because I mostly hate it there)to some burlesque party (aka the night of titty tassles). I won't be performing but I will be getting obscenely drunk to celebrate the demise of the worst year ever.

I'm sure I'll do something rediculously stupid or awkward if it's a good night.

I wish you all a safe and drunk New Year. Have one for Jonesy!

My liver is starting to train tomorrow.

Just realized the 2009 NYC marathon will be the day after Halloween. It's the perfect storm of partying. Yay! Crap.

Yay for Friday in Lent!

Every Friday in Lent means it's pizza day! I order pizza for dinner every week!!

I just ordered (I will not disclose how much pizza) and then I realized, I forgot to order my grape soda. If you have not tried it, pizza and a grape soda is the best combo EVER!!!

Luckily, I have a cherry coke stored in the fridge! Yay for Fridays in Lent!

Is that an 8-ball in your pocket, no, it's your peen.

On the subway with Q on Tuesday. Packed rush hour train. I only had her to hold on to and some man leaning on me. I felt something poking my butt/thigh repeatedly. Then I realized the train wasn't moving.

I still feel filthy.

"Someone's been sleeping in my bed..."

I came home today from a night at my mom's house. When I walked in my room, things seemed a little, er, off. Like there was definitely a Goldilocks in my room last night!

1. I couldn't find my effing remotes. They are always in my bed under the comforter. WTF?

2. The comforter itseld is on the bed the wrong way.

3. The pillows were out of order and the throw blanket was folded weird.

I wondered, "Who slept in my bed last night?" It had to have been London who like to crash in my room because she thinks hers is too loud, cold, bright etc. I don't care but she usually send me a text to give me the heads up.

Update: Suspicion confirmed as she told me when she walked in the door. I should have known by the comforter.

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow...

Yesterday was DM's birthday. Yesterday, DM got engaged. Yesterday was one of the best days of her life and she deserves it. Yesterday, I got a tetanus shot. It still effing hurts.

Today, Spanish and I went shopping for her husband, Homer. Today, Homer had his first day as a cop in my hometown. Today, I realized that because I live in New York City and take cabs, I have become a God-awful driver and almost crashed into the Cloisters on the Henry Hudson North.

Tomorrow, BFF is having a C-Section. She's pissed she can't deliver naturally. I am excited and nervous for her. Tomorrow, she becomes a mom. Tomorrow, I hope to visit her and her baby girl and then get drunk while decorating my Christmas tree.

I really need to get a more exciting life.

If I Could: A Tacky Wedding

Occasionally I wonder what would happen if I had unlimited funds and a whole lot of time. So here is a new type of post I'm calling "If I Could." Here are my musings on what kind of tacky wedding I would have, "If I could."

Date: 4th of July. Why? Free fireworks for all. But instead of having those little smiey faced ones I would have the folks at Macy's design special pyrotechnics that would launch firworks that would explode in the shapy of my face and beau, encircled by heart with an arrow going through it. God bless America and God bless us.

Ceremony Location: Shea Stadium. Why? Because in my little world where I have more money than Bill Gates, everyone will want to attend my nuptuals. I need stadium seating. But considering that this affair will come after 2009, I would have to buy Shea Stadium before it's torn town and transplant it to a patch of land. So, I will have to buy all the real estate on the Lower East Side/East Village, evict all the hiptards, level all the annoying builldings/hangouts and place Shea down there. Any hispter who does not vacate will just be seen as collatoral damage.

Reception: Central Park Why? Because I would need pretty much the entrie park for all the guests. It's a simple matter of capacity. All the important people will be allowed in the great lawn with me, while all the on-lookers will have to stay down in Sheep's Meadow. The people I really don't like will be sent to sit on the ball fields, and have to make due with a hotdog cart and ice cream man.

Bridal Party: The obvious suspects, my sisters, BFF, Spanish, Future Mrs. Krabby Patty, Jennifer Aniston, Kelly Clarkson, Wonder Woman.

The best man will be Michelle Williams. Because let's face it, Heath wouldn't want anyone else helping him out more than his ex-wife/baby momma.

The other best man (did I mention this was Big Love?) will be Kylie Minogue, who will be trying to hold Robbie Williams up, because we will have to kick that guy off the wagon to marry me.

Flower children: My neice will be head flower child which means she is the boss of all other flower children and they need to kiss her feet and give her money and presents. Other flower children: Suri Cruise (but Tom has to sit in the baseball team area for the reception, Katie can stay with me but only if I can call her katie and send her to de-programmer who will burn her with ciggie butts until she rejects Scientology), Zahara Jolie-Pitt (screw Shiloh), Maddox Jolie-Pitt (screw Pax), and The Olsen Twins.

I will not walk down the aisle. The entire New York Mets team will kneel on hand and knee (in their custom NYM tuxes) and I will walk on their backs.

Colors: "My culuhs are blush and bashful." And yes, Dolly Parton will be flown in to do my hair and Julia Roberts will be forced to have a diabetic seizure.

Theme: The theme is everyone look uglier than the bride. Thanks.

Black Tie: Not optional. It's demanded. But only skinny black ties are allowed. And even the women have to wear them.

Entertainment: Think of Live Aid + Live 8, ONLY BIGGER. Headliners will include a reunited 'NSYNC, Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls, S Club 7. Also Amy Winehouse, The Beastie Boys, Shakira (but she has to dance in a brown paper bag since no one is allowed to look better than me), U2, Madonna, Oprah, Larry King, Gallagher. Ellen Degeneres will be dancing in a cage above the stage, non-stop.

Gown Design: I will change every 30 minutes into a new gown. The designers will have to pay me to wear their dress at the ceremony. I have a feeling Bobby Trendy won't win. It will be easy to dress me because I will be thinner than Victoria Beckham. And she will be forced to eat the entire reception.

Food: I will leave that up to the house elves from Hogwarts.

Party Favors: Everyone will receive an 8x10 of me, autographed, of course.

Honeymoon: 1 week at each Hedonism resort in the world.

A girl can dream, can't she?

Coughie and Pedicure

This past Friday I took a much needed half day off from work. Sometimes I find these more productive than full days because 1. I stay sober the night before because I still have to go to work and 2. I'm not left to my own devices and sleeping half the day away.

As soon as I left work I decided it was time for two of my favorite things: Dunkin' Donuts iced coffee and pedicures. I got my medium French Vanille Iced Coffee with skim milk and two Equal and headed over the my fave nail salon for a quick yet MUCH MUCH needed pedi (flip-flops + NYC streets = black heels). As soon as I walked in I was a little miffed because I had to wait (all four pedi stations were full) . There's only one waiting bench to sit on. It fits about three people. Smack in the middle was a little girl, probably about three or four. I had no choice than to sit right next to her. I was sitting of all of 30 seconds when I heard the deepest, chestiest, throatiest cough. It was coming from the little crumbsnatcher (Fiture Mrs. Krabbypatty's word-excellent, no?) next to me. She didn't cover her mouth.

The cough was quickly followed by a sneeze. Then another and another. I got squirmy. In my head, I was thinking "EFF! I can't get sick. It's Friday, it's been a shit week and all I want to do is drink my face off." Then I felt it. The burning sensation that someone was looking at me. It was little ol' Coughie. I don't think that child blinks.

Immediatley I get to texting everyonw whow ould understand that this evil midget was not only infecting me with her child disease, but also staring at me like I had Dora the Explorer shaved into my head.

I couldn't reiterate enough how bad the kid was staring (Have I mentioned that staring is one of my pet peeves?) and also, bad parents who take their sick kids toa ccrowded nail place instead in keeping them in bed with some Triaminic. So I took a pic with my camera phone. It didn't come out to late so I switched to video. The kid is full on staring, she even looks away and comes back. And no, she didn't know I was filming her because I had the phone up to my ear and started saying "MmmHmm" like I was in a convo (yes, I know I'm nutto).

Since I couldn't load the video, here is the budget photo I took. All you need to see is the evil eyes.

I swear I like kids though. Just not this one.