Archive for October, 2005

Birthday Suit

October 26, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“Birthdays are good for you. Statistics show that the people who have the most live the longest. ” ~Larry Lorenzoni

Surprisingly enough I love birthdays, not just my own, but everyone’s. I like that it’s the one day a year where one is treated like he or she is special. It’s not like Christmas where everyone and their Christian brother is celebrating that day. No your birthday is just for you.
I’ve had the pleasure of having some very nice birthdays and lovely gifts bestowed upon me.

For my 16th birthday, my aunts and mother, took me to Chicago. To not only visit the University of Chicago (at the time my first choice school) but also to see Oprah. Seriously, Oprah for my 16th birthday. And a suite on Michigan avenue. And shopping, oh the shopping.

Every year, one of my aunts sends me flowers. For my 21st birthday she called and asked for my work address. I told her to have the flowers sent soon because I’d be leaving early. But there were no flowers. Just a lovely blue box with a lovely new platinum diamond bracelet (for the record, I’m severely allergic to silver so all I can wear is gold or platinum). It was truly lovely and a wonderful surprise.

I’ve also had the requisite terrible birthdays. Like my 13th birthday, when I had a sleepover and invited two friends who had grown to completely despise each other. I had been friends with these girls for years and they had been friends prior to meeting me. But one of these two girls hated the other so much that she covered her pillow in cat hair. My friend Mo, is deathly allergic to cats. So you can see that it was a problem. Yup, birthday party ruined. And we still talk about that birthday to this day.

I have no comments about turning 22. Nothing eventful will happen this year, it’s not a big birthday. Last year, it was nice to be able to use my real ID and not fear being arrested and/or having my ID taken away. Tonight I will spend with my most very favorite people. And one of my favorite DC bars.

I will attempt to not throw up on the middle of F Street and to not have the spins when I attempt to finally pass out. I’ve already been told “I’m gonna get you FUCKED UP tonight”

It’ll be a good birthday and I will even allow myself to be optimistic and say a possibly good year.

The Day Before

October 25, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“You are only young once, but you can stay immature indefinitely.” ~Author Unknown

I woke up with a searing headache this morning and painful jaw ache. Maybe I should wear the night guard that cost $500 to produce.

I’ve had three miniature candy bars in the past two hours. Although one of which didn’t count, because it tasted like ass. I ate it, but it was gross and so I’ve determined that that particular miniature candy bar doesn’t count toward the calorie limit.

I should confess that yesterday I ate the vegetables out of roommate’s Chinese food and that after I finished off my tortilla chips, I started in on his, because I had to finish the amazing whole foods guacamole that I consumed in less than 24 hours.

I was late to work today, due to the mother fucking headache this morning. But seriously, I haven’t been on CP (colored people) time in a few weeks, so I wasn’t too concerned.

It’s raining. Again. Hurricane season blows.

Tomorrow night is the birthday party. I do not. Repeat, do not, want anything remotely close to my 21st birthday to occur to me tomorrow night. Which means no throwing up on cars, no continuous shots, no giving me a drink because my other beer is empty, no guess the shot where the shot ends up being (surprise) gin, no dinosaur throwing up noises, no puking, no spins, and no throwing up everything all day the day after including water.

And this; which I’ve stolen from Lorie (and she got it from here):

(take careful notice of the date of conception. It was a cold winter in upstate New York that year. Thankfully my parents went for a spring-May 1983-wedding. Yeah, do the math)

A truly gifted 3 possesses the most exceptional creative skills, normally in the verbal realm, writing, speaking, acting, or similar endeavors.

Conversations with Myself

October 24, 2005 | Filed under: Oh The Stupidity You'll See

“You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today.”-Abraham Lincoln

A Weekend alone and shopping in two parts:

Act 1:

(Scene: Heather B. is in Montgomery Mall on a Saturday night (I have no life) in hopes to get her poor pink ipod fixed and to get black pants and some great fall boots. After going into Nordstrom and first being COMPLETELY ignored then asking for a boot in size 11 and the salesman returns with a size 10 and asks if I want that. Ummm no. If I wanted a size 10, I would have said please bring me a size 10. Then I would have done a happy dance, because HOLY SHIT, I wear a size 10. After that disappointment, Heather B. heads on to the Apple store. She’s a little irate, as she has just learned that Nordstrom sucks sometimes, but they’re too hard to hate. In the Apple store, she learns that her pretty pink ipod, is beyond repair. It’s physical damage as opposed to whatever else, and to repair physical damage is $199. Man at the Apple store suggest just buying a new one. Heather B. get’s very pissed and says something to the affect of “what other brand of mp3 player do you suggest? Because this shit sucks.” Oh and on her way out, she gives the guy the finger. THE FINGER. (Heather B. this is immaturity. Immaturity meet Heather B.)

Self: I think you need to calm the fuck down and take yourself to Sephora. Hanae Mori and Stila does wonders
Heather B: I think you’re right. I also need my new fall boots.
Self: Look Nine West. Look, a sale.
Heather B: Look at these gorgeous black fuck me boots. I bet they don’t have them in an 11
Self: Don’t be a cynic.

(The boots were available in a size 11 and fit like a motherfucking glove)

Heather B: (singing) I have new fuck me boots. I have new fuck me boots. I have new fuck me boots.
Self: Ok, seriously, stop.
Heather B: Look Coach, I’ll just browse.
Self: DO NOT GO IN.COACH IS EVIL. YOU CANNOT AFFORD ANYTHING IN COACH.
Heather B: I’ll just browse. It’ll be ok. Look! A fuck me bag. I want it. I have to have it. It’ll make up for my stupid ipod.
Self: I warned you…

(Heather B, has new fuck me boots and a new fuck me bag. WOOOO HOOO! Happy Birthday to me)

Act II

(Scene: Georgetown at 10:30 AM. Heather B. has just learned that shit doesn’t open till 11 or 12 in Georgetown. Therefore she is forced to walk up and down and up and down M Street for about two hours. Including a quick stop at Dean and Deluca. Cause Sundays are the perfect overpriced specialty grocery store days. MMmmmmm.)

Self: Sooo, this is M street. Again. Hasn’t changed much as you’ve walked up and down 45 times.
Heather B: shut it, or I’ll put you back in the car
Self: Ok. Freak. Hey, umm did you realize that you need new sneakers? Especially since you’ve been (GASP) running lately.
Heather B: oh shit, yeah.
Self: Also did you realize that with your very little salary and the large amount you spend at whole foods and target, that you really can’t afford a fuck me bag from Coach and new sneakers.
Heather B: (crying) I hate my life. (see random homeless person) I still hate my life. What kind of person has to choose between Coach and new running sneakers.
Self: Did you notice the homeless person? The one who has probably never stepped foot in coach and maybe you should shut up.

(Go to Dean and Deluca, cause nothing is open. Still sad, because no more coach bag)

Heather B: mmmm coffee
Self: there are no black people here. In fact we haven’t seen one in all of Georgetown. So this is what a lynch mob might look like, before the actual lynching. Interesting.
Heather B: anyway. Back to the loss of my pretty coach bag. Just sad and so fucking responsible. Maybe Peg, will give me the bag, because I am being responsible with my money.
Self: Probably not.

(Goes to purchase very new pretty pink sneakers. Returns to coach. Heather B. tears up a little when she leaves coach. Goes to Anthropologie and spends the equivalent of the GDP on a pretty fall coat and pretty sweater. Now, on Monday, Heather B. has realized that she doesn’t like the pretty sweater, so she must return it. Especially if she plans on eating at any point during the week. It is determined that in Heather B’s next life, she will be making six figures immediately after college, because that is what is needed to maintain the lifestyle she has become accustomed to. In no way is it natural to have to give up Coach.)

The End.

P.S. My new fuck me boots, look so freaking hot.

Blogged Down

October 22, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

Right now, sitting here, waiting for a 16 month old to start wailing, has been about the most free time I’ve had all week (it took me five days to learn of Jason and LC and I threw up in my mouth a little bit), which also means no time for blogging. Whatever will I do?
I never wrote about Happy Hour, except for, well this. But I promise, it was not nearly as frightening as I had thought it would be and no one turned out to be a serial killer. All is good. And DC Cookie is my chocolate martini friend. So, I thank you Kathryn, for calling my lazy ass out.
Work has been crazy and I fear that it will be this way for many years (I mean that literally). I spent most of Friday, banging my head with the telephone. I seriously do this on a regular basis.
Other than that, I’ve run a lot this weeke, been to two new restaurants, debated stalking a waiter at one of these restaurants (the Jury’s still out on that one), gotten drunk at IndeBleu, and made plans for the birthday.
So I suppose, a semi-successful week.

Oh, and I also thought of evil things to do to the spawn of satan and to my ipod, which I may have to throw out the window if I have to listen to Dancing Queen, one more mother fucking time.

Maybe this week, I’ll make my desk not look like the printer has thrown up on it and I will attempt to not eat an entire bag of Salt and Vinegar chips, as I’ve realized that my pantalones are a little snug (but I make no promises). Also, will debate whether or not to attend a party at a former crush’s (I hate the word) house. Suggestions would be helpful.

Bitches Are Whack Fridays*

October 21, 2005 | Filed under: La Madre

“Oh, wouldn’t the world seem dull and flat with nothing whatever to grumble at? ” ~W.S. Gilbert

Last Friday went something like this: bitch, bitch, bitch, Laguna Beach**, Run’s House, JB, bitch, bitch.
I’m never prolific on Fridays because I’m tired and shit, it’s Friday.
From now on you’ll get my lovely complaints of the week, because I can do that. Feel free to vent, because sharing means caring.

The only thing I have for you this week, is my ipod. Sweet Jesus, the damn thing is broken. It turns on and everything, but the menu button doesn’t work and it takes a huge amount of effort when attempting to go between songs; ie I have to press the button down reaaaaaaally hard for it to work. Before it only played one play list, so I suppose this is an improvement. But still, right now, because the menu button doesn’t work, this means that I have to listen to songs alphabetically by artist. Which means 2 hours of 50 Cent then 2 hours of ABBA. I kid you not.
And what can be done about this you ask? Not a damn thing. I just have a busted ipod and no urge to get a new one anytime soon. Which only spins me back to the fact that the stupid ipod can’t be plugged into an older USB port, so all of music is on my computer in ALBANY! Albany, is nowhere near, DC. So now I have a busted ipod, and absolutely no music, because it’s in Albany.

It’s also raining again. Rain sucks. Hurricanes suck. And Apple sucks.

Now, your turn.

*BAWF for short
**Is anyone else concerned about this LC/Jason thing going on?? And how absolutely dejected Stephen looks, while witnessing this debacle?