Sometimes I just don't plan things well

You know what happens when I happen upon a random Six Layer Rainbow Cake Tutorial right before a friend's birthday?

Antics. Antics ensue.

Me: I can totally make this cake for Mo's birthday, guys.

What happens: I go out with The Man day before I'm supposed to be baking a cake, where after I take him to the movies, he takes me to a dive bar for dinner and proceeds to buy me Jamesons. STRAIGHT. Two drinks in, I realize that I needed to go shopping for supplies for fancy rainbow cake. So I make a haphazard list and make The Man take me to Michael's. I hope that I got everything I needed because now I'm slightly buzzed, and sleepy, so when I get home I go straight to bed: Do not pass go, do not collect $200. So, then, instead of making the cake the night before and sticking it in the fridge, I make it in the morning and hope that this will all work out before I have to leave by noon.


So far, so good.

Are you wondering where the purple is? *points down*

 But wait.

It's 7 AM. I took this picture and sent it to my sister: WHY DOESN'T THE PURPLE LOOK PURPLE? I'm going to the store to get some purple gel. NO. I didn't get dressed to run to the store. I went in my jammies. Yes, I did. They didn't have purple. Luckily for me, I do slightly remember that red and blue make purple, so I buy some of that. And come home and add enough red and blue to make it PURPLE. (Aaaand then, I forgot to take a second picture of it looking more purply)

Straws. To make sure my cake didn't slide off

I went to Kitson. Because it's a perk of working at Big Fancy Hospital. All the fancy shops close by. I originally went for my niece's gift for graduation to buy something quirky for her to take with her to college. I found something. AND! They had these birthday candles!

Not as brightly colored as I hoped it would be. BUT.
Everyone loved it. So there's that.

The cake was yummy, y'all. If I ever make this again. I would totally add the icing colors to make it brighter. I would also not let my husband get me drunk so that I'm rushing around like a chicken with her head cut off with only a few hours to make a cake, praying every minute of my baking time that nothing goes wrong because I just DON'T HAVE TIME to make mistakes.

Blogher10 Recap...or How to Drive Housekeeping Crazy. You decide.

Yes. I did go to blogher10. I had fun, I met a lot of new people, and a few people that I should see more often because WE ALL LIVE IN SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA, GUYS. WHY DON'T I SEE MORE OF YOU?

I could go on and on about how much fun I had, how weird it was to fly to New York to meet a bunch of people who mostly live inside my computer,  and how much sight-seeing I did (related: how much walking I did. You NY people are some walking mf'ers), and how I can’t WAIT for Blogher11 in San Diego which is down the highway a bit, but still close. But I’m not. I’m going to tell you a story about how to torture housekeeping.

Do Not Disturb. Please and Thank You

It started off simply enough, we got in on Wednesday, flopped down on the beds of our choice and unpacked. As I’m sure you know, 4 bloggers + 4 ½ days = a whole lot of STUFF. There were laptops, cameras, phones and SHOES. THERE WERE A LOT OF SHOES. Instead of locking up our stuff in the itty bitty safe, we decided to skip housekeeping. Throw on the Do Not Disturb, sign. No big deal. We’ll just change out the towels (because NYC in August means that we were taking at least 2 showers a day)

The next day as we were getting ready to step out of our rooms housekeeping was RIGHT THERE. You guys need housekeeping? Oh, no thanks. Just towels. Well, we’ll come in and…. No. We’ll bring them out.

And then it became a game.


Everytime we left for the day’s shenanigans, there was a cart. WAITING FOR THE CHANCE TO CLEAN OUR ROOM. We would politely refuse, if they caught us leaving – just change out the towels. More likely we would scurry out as they were “conveniently” cleaning a neighboring room..We would sneak out at night and empty our trash…We were running out of toilet paper. Because IF WE HAD HOUSEKEEPING they would have replaced it. Our solution?


Call down to the desk: Hey umm…everybody in our room has the runs. Can you send up some TP? (Yes. That is really how @shuggilippo requested extra rolls) Not true at all. Although. We had more conversations about pooping than I could have imagined. Also? They brought up 3 rolls.


I’m sure they were wondering WTF was going on that we didn’t want housekeeping to see:







Nothing to see here. Nothing at all*



*Also, I should thank NY Hilton for being such good sports. And once we packed up all of our crap and threw away all of our trash, the room didn’t look horrible. Except….for the big giant pile of towels in the bathroom.

** Last 3 pictures lifted from Undomesticdiva/my roomie

What I learned at Rehab

Not THAT Rehab. This one

YEAH. So I went to Baker 2 Vegas, because my sister is an officer of the got-damn-law (anyone? anyone?) and because THESE GUYS were having a concert at the Joint and really, is there ever a bad time to go to Vegas? And because she hates me, she wanted to go to Rehab...And I said no, no, no (sorry. but I really, REALLY couldn't resist)... But because I'm a curious sort, it wasn't that difficult to change my mind. And because we had all this stuff going on at the Hard Rock, that's where we stayed

So after a couple of days of drinking, I'm supposed to put on a skimpy bathing suit and frolic in the water with a bunch of half naked boys and girls? Right. But I'm going to tell you something that I learned at Rehab:

Rule #1: You are only getting in the pool in your bathing suit. And that is all.

Because this guy says so

So off comes the cover up and in goes the legs in the pool.

Still though, I was self·-conscious. Because whatever you THINK Rehab at the Hard Rock looks like, it's more. More itty bitty bikinis. More skin. More fake boobs and flat abs. Just...MORE. And well, there's more of me too. But my "MORE" doesn't look as hot in a bikini, nahmean?

But whatever. I'm chilling by at the pool with my sis and cousin drinking a Jack Daniels & Sprite at 11AM in the morning. BEFORE BREAKFAST. I'm talking to the very regular-looking couple sitting next to me, and watching people get in the pool.

Rule #2: See Rule #1.

So I'm watching the skinny broads get told to take off their cover-ups or get out of the pool. And the athletic type fellas taking off their T-shirts. And noticing that even the people who LOOK LIKE MODELS are looking just as self-conscious as I do.

Rule #3: EVERYONE is vulnerable when they're half naked in the bright light of day.

There's no hiding behind clothes that camouflage, no pitch black club, no strobe light.. No make-up. Well... there's waterproof mascara. But mostly, there's just sunblock. There are, of course, people who came to the pool with no intention of getting anywhere near the water. THOSE people were wearing teeny tiny bathing suits/booty shorts, 4-inch heels and full face of MAKE-UP (who wears make-up to the POOL?! I'll tell you: people who are missing the point of a pool party...people who I am NOT convinced weren't ladies of the evening working a day shift, that's who.)

Rule #4: Have FUN.

You know what a good time is? Hanging with my sissie and prima for the weekend at The Hard Rock Hotel ,concerting at The Joint, winning some dollahs at the roulette table... and topping it off with some drinkin' and partying at Rehab.

That came out wrong, didn't it?

I guess I have to take the bad with the good... because the good is SO good

I LOVE to go to concerts. I HATE to go to concerts. That thought occurred to me the other night as I was in Las Vegas watching Them Crooked Vultures at the Joint. And then I had a fleeting thought...should I stop going? So, I wrote a list:

CONS:
1. Standing. The best place to see a concert is in the Standing Room Only (Pit/General Admission) and there ain't a chair in sight. After walking around Vegas all day, my feet hurt. A LOT. Also, if there is an asshole within 100 yards, you can bet your sweet ass he/she/THEY will be standing next to me.

2. Fights. Random mosher almost starting a brawl because he doesn't understand that NOBODY AROUND HIM WANTS TO MOSH? Check. I'll bet you can guess where he was standing.

3. Couples. Yes. Okay. I get it...you guys are in love. Get a room. (yeah, yeah...I'm old. So what? Also? Get off my lawn)

4. Lines. Do I *really* want to get in line almost 2 hours early so that I can stand at the rail? No. I didn't.

5. People. I. HATE. PEOPLE. Especially tall people (aside from my unnatural fear of them) who stand in front of short people like they don't know all I can see is your BACK because you're like PAUL FUCKING  BUNYON and I'm 5'3 and 1/2 thankyouverymuch and my neck is killing me from trying to see over/around you.

PROS:

1. Josh Homme of Them Crooked Vultures/ Queens of the Stone Age drinking Ketel One Vodka STRAIGHT from the bottle and smoking a cigarette on stage. (I would have taken a picture but see Con #5. Fucker)

2. But I did get THIS picture:

yeah...not on the rail. But still close.

3. I went to ANOTHER concert yesterday where even though I was there to see Taylor Hawkins & The Coattail Riders and THIS GUY showed up:

If you don't know who this guy is and how much I heart him... get off my page. Go on, now..shoo.



After my VERY scientific study, I'm sure you will agree that the Pros TOTALLY outweigh the Cons. In fact, I'm not even sure what the hell I was complaining about.

So please stay tuned for the next concert experience.

Super Secret Trip of Awesome

You know what I had planned last weekend? Nothing. Enter Grace, Holly, Biddy and Super Jules and their  talk of their #SSTOA cluttering up my twitter stream. Being the inquisitive person that I am,  I finally found they had chosen San Diego for a Super Secret Trip of Awesome. Y'all are going to San Diego for the weekend?  Do I want to come hang for the weekend? No. I can't.  Because I had shit (read: work) to do.

BUT. I *can* crash one day of your super secret trip.

Hey there! I crash your party; I sleep on your couch.

But at least I brought Rum. (Bacardi Peach Red). Because what kind of party crasher shows up empty handed?

Stories of the strangest mani/pedi evar can be found here. Ridiculous anthropological (is that even a word?) studies of douchebags are here, and random events here and even here.

W.T.F?!*

What can I possibly add to describe how awesome this super secret trip was? I could talk about how we all piled into a cab like college kids in a phone booth and hid SuperJules AS COPS WATCHED US. Or about how even though SuperJules couldn't have been any more precise, taxi cab drivers do not understand her. It's like she was speaking another language. One nobody understood.

Is that why she was so angry?*

OR even how, after dinner my food started attacking my innards and made me leave the douchetastic outing before my food ejected itself from my stomach, which it was most definitely was going to do before my night was over(damn you, you oversensitive stupid tummy).

Why was this dude trying to put me in a headlock?*

And how cute Biddy was worrying about me going back to the condo solo. OR? About the even more super secret field trip as we got lost on the way to the airport. (You know what's really awesome? Being a Marine's wife and therefore being able to get on ANY BASE IN THE COUNTRY) AND I came home with a bottle of Vodka, and (yo, ho ho) TWO bottles of Rum.

But you know, really? It was just a bunch of girls having some drinks*.

*these photos stolen from Grace and/or Biddy.

Overheard

(So, I'm back from Vegas. Instead of coming home and falling into bed to sleep off the hangover/recouperate from hanging out all night, I came home with just enough time to get ready to see Depeche Mode. Because I'm awesome, or ridiculous, or have horrible time management skills. Either way, may I present you with the things that I heard or/and said this weekend.)

You got an L.A. face, but an Oakland booty (I'm not sure what that means, but I still let him pinch my ass. Heh.)

Are you going to be able to fit all that in there? #snort (see also #thatswhatshesaid)

I just smoked a margarita.

She’s so cute I just want to pick her up and put her in my pocket. (My SIL is 4’10 – definitely pocket-sized)

Pirate Booty. And not the good kind.

That is totally awesome. With no awesome sauce on top.

Yep, DJ Jazzy Jeff. And no Fresh Prince.

I don't want to keep him, I just wanna play with him for a lil' while.

Yeah, Indians. Dots, not Feathers.

There's some hoes in this house...if you see 'em point them out. (A SONG. Although, you know...if you see one...)

It was ghetto fabulous. WITHOUT the fabulous.

Sir? Please don't hump your girlfriend in here. Take her back to your room.

...so then she threw up.

The next time we come back, we ARE going to go to Rehab, instead of always saying No, no, no.

I'll have ANOTHER Jack Daniels & Sprite.

Can I have a $1 Yo bet?

Damn, do I love Vegas.

Put that thing back where it came from. Or so help me.

I am SOO fucked up.

It's 4AM. I have to get up in 4 hours to drive back home.


(So there you have it. Some of the more interesting comments made over the weekend. I'm SURE I left out a lot, some of which I remember, some of which...I don't. And probably all for the good. I would also like to thank my Sissie, Prima & Lil' Bit -the SIL, for a fan-fucking-tastic road trip AND Undomestic Diva & Starts with an X for an awesome dinner date. I had so much fun hanging with you "ladies". I would also like to mention that UD can really shake a tailfeather on the dancefloor. Heh. )

This one time in Vegas.

My husband went out of town a couple of weeks ago. I was going to go, but being the “responsible” adult I am, I couldn’t. Because I had summer school. And since I was taking 2 six-week courses, it just seemed ridiculous to miss a full week, plus…they weren’t giving any make up tests, blah blah blah…so I couldn’t go.

So instead of taking off a full week, I took Friday and Monday off. I didn’t have any plans except you know…not being at work. My consolation prize for not being able to go with The Man. Imagine my surprise when my co-worker (who is probably the only person who spends more time in Vegas than I do) got a 2-night free room offer at The Luxor (I puffy heart The Luxor. They make me poop rainbows). So I call my prima and tell her guess who’s going on a road trip? WE are! Yay!

Friday and Saturday night? Or Saturday/Sunday night? Easy choice. Prima has to work Sunday night and I want to recouperate/sleep in Monday, so we will take Friday/Saturday. Also making this an easy decision? Ditch Fridays at the Palms. The last time I was in Vegas, I went to the club and some dude hooked me up with VIP passes for the price of my a/s/l and e-mail. EVERY FRIDAY since then I’ve been getting e-mails about ditching work and going to the Palms Pool Party. So, since I’m off Friday AND I’m going to Vegas, Pool party it is.

Got to the Palms in the afternoon. I was ready in my lovely bathing suit. See? I even had my "I'm so sexy" pose. 'Cause I am. So sexy. No, really.

This guy was 6'10. If you were on twitter that weekend, then you already saw this picture. OMG. Me, the woman who is deathly afraid of any man over 6'3 was there for the NBA Summer League Weekend. So practically every man there was of GIANT proportion... in HEIGHT. That there's my Prima who IS not afriad of Goliath and so took this picture, while I stood away....FAR away.

(I won't even make mention of the guy who I totally ran away from because he was 7 feet tall and headed right for me. On purpose because some jerk told him of my freaky fear. I was drunk... usually I do a much better job of hiding my crazy)

Next stop? Tacos & Tequila. I love this place. And now, with photo booth! After that (and a few jello shots at the bar), we ran over to the Outlet for some baby clothes. Prima's going to a baby shower, so off to the Carter's outlet we go. F your I... DON'T, for the love of God, watch anybody else shop for baby clothes. Because then you start remembering your precious baby girl and all the cute clothes she had and OMG they had tights with the ruffled butt and HOW ON EARTH are you supposed to resist that?! And then YOUR uterus starts contracting and you start wishing for babies, with their chubby cheeks and new baby smell. But then you remember you can't drink and party in Vegas when you're pregnant, and you snap out of it, but you STILL end up spending too much money because everything was just so damn cute.

AND? Why did the clerk send us over to the Coach Outlet? Did you guess before she hates us? I did. Because we went over and I fell in love with these:

That green one, bottom right? I want. Dammit. I didn't get it THIS TIME, but I'm going back and next time, it's coming home with me.

Last thing on the schedule LAX in Las Vegas, located conveniently located in our hotel, so that we could stumble back to our room several hours after we'd planned to so we could leave early...which, we didn't. In between the drinking and flirting with cute boys, we saw

The Dan Band. Apparently they were playing that weekend at LAX. Even when I'm not expecting concerts, I get concerts. Go figure. I also got a little wet. Somebody was making it sprinkle in the club*.

Oh, and Vegas? I'll be back next month. I'm bringing my girls and meeting up with the undomestic diva and maybe miss. So be ready. 'Cause y'all have that fountain in front of Paris and if she'll jump into the Married with Children fountain, she's definitely not scared of you teeny little fountain. Or jail, apparently. So get ready.

*Throwing $1 bills from the 2nd floor, is NOT rain, that's more like a light drizzle. Rain is heavy. Say... $5 or $10 heavy. Just sayin'.

She gets it from her Mama

To what I am sure is going to be my everlasting regret, I agreed that The Brat is getting old enough to go to concerts. Or caved in from all the begging because all of her favorite bands are touring this summer and OMG - who KNOWS if Fall Out Boy will have another CD out next summer. Tom-A-to, tom-AH-to. One of her friends (and her Mom) took The Brat to see Britney Spears (don’t judge me. The Brat IS her target audience: 13 year old girl), she’s got plans to see The Jonas Brothers this summer, and I’m taking her to see No Doubt in August. And then my friend says…Hey, does The Brat want to see The Veronicas? My reaction:…? I have NO idea who The Veronicas are, so I call The Brat and ask her. SHE knows who they are… SHE would love to see them (also the tickets were dirt cheap, holy hell!)

Last night was the night. Me & Mo and our daughters. Once they realized that we were not going to hover, they asked if they could stand up front. Which they did. While we watched. From the bar. Because if I’m going to be listening to my daughters music, I was pretty sure I was going to need some alcohol.


First Band: Carney
Surprisingly good. I didn’t really know what to expect, since honestly, I thought the Veronicas didn’t have an opening act AND didn’t know they are far beyond any Jonas Brothers type act. Word on the street (from our teenagers) is that the Jo Bros opened for them before. They were signing merch & taking pictures in the lobby after the show so….

Yeah, I know. Top: Lead Singer. Bottom: Drummer (What is it with those drummers?)

Second Band: The Pretty Reckless.
Also good. The girls REALLY liked this band. Since I had never heard of ANY of these bands, I was completely surprised that the lead singer is an actress on Gossip Girl. Also? Happily surprised that I’m raising a girl who likes ALL kinds of music and not just Jonas Brother/Hannah Montana –y type bullshit. I mean, I TRY to expand her consciousness of music beyond the Ting Tings and Fergie..but you never know if it’s gonna work.

Headliner
So let me just say…that I spent most of my time at the club hanging around the bar. I spied a few actor types and of course, some “I look like I’m in band types”. Most of the night I stood behind a guy who looked like Zach Galifianakis. Only an asshole. HE spent most of his time chatting up a couple of weirdly dressed chicks. One had on a flapper headband. The other one had on these HUGE glasses. They probably spend the whole second set talking and drinking. Blah blah blah…blah blah blah…Blah.Blah.Blah. GEEZ. Just shaddup already. I take a potty break and return just in time to the Veronicas. The weirdly dressed chicks?

Are now not so weirdly dressed and are on stage. The music? VERY GOOD. The Brat’s got pretty good taste in tunes.

We left around 11:30ish. I had a new respect for The Brat’s musical interests, found a couple of new bands that were pretty good. I guess the girls were feeling kind of smug that we ended up enjoying the concert after all because as we were telling them that we had been standing less than 2 feet from the Veronicas half the evening… “Have we taught you NOTHING?! How could you not know who they were?"

Hmm...so when did the students become the teachers?

It's a secret, but I'm gonna tell you anyways

Every once in a great while, my friends & I get together for LESS drinking.
Sunday’s event: Vision Boards.
You know… thinking positive, things that you are aspiring to do/be/have.

There was breakfast & mimosas. Already, I’m liking this. Nothing can be all bad when there’s champagne, right? RIGHT.

We watched The Secret (did you know it was a DVD? I didn’t) I’ll admit, I’m not that great at keeping SOME secrets. Also? I have a short attention span.

The secret:
Think positive. That’s pretty much it.
(I'm sure I'm oversimplifying...but still)


It said other stuff, but I started tuning out because I start thinking about all of the things that I want from my life and if I brought enough magazines and how come I didn’t bring scissors OR elmer’s glue and how much fun it was when I would glue my hands and then peel it like I was a snake…but I DID buy some glitter glue when I went to Target for $1 and how they tricked me and I only went in to buy a board but $60 later had the board, stickers, scrapbooking stuff, a few BOOKS and STILL--STILL didn't buy the eyeliner that I needed.

I had a good time. We sat around looking through magazines, asking did anybody want a picture of Christian Bale err…Common, uhhh…WEDDING CAKE (yeah, because there are some single ladies who want to marry and have 8 babies ).

Glued to MY board: a graduation cap, a beautiful house (because I am planning to own a home – soon!), some vacation spots I plan on visiting. Also on my board:

[I am a strong woman]
Because even I need a reminder sometimes.

[Can Do]
Power of positive thinking, anyone?





And because I like it to keep it real

[How to Get What You Want From Anyone
(and we mean that in the nicest way possible)]

Hey, if I’m going to take over the world, being able to get what I want from people is a skill I'm going to need.

Surprise!

It's Pop Quiz time again, boys and girls!

This weekend I was in Vegas. It was 1000 degrees there. Still had a good time. When I emailed my friend to tell her what I did I told her that I:

a) was drunk before noon everyday that I was there.

b) got a wicked tan because even though I was sitting in the shade wearing sunblock SPF 5000, the sun hates me and doesn't think I'm dark enough.

c) humped a boy's leg (because he was cute and I was drunk).

d) photobombed somebody's picture at a No Doubt concert.

e) laughed so hard I cried.

f) ate at Stack in the Mirage, where a guy stared at my friend's boobs all through dinner, then paid our bill because he said we were all so beautiful.

g) mocked a guy who bought me several drinks because I was drinking a more manly drink than he was. What guy drinks mai tai's in public? THAT guy, the one who also waxes his eyebrows and don't EVEN get me started on that.

h) called a loser friend in Boston at midnight to rub in console him because his team got dealt with in the NBA finals. (Let's go, Lakers! or is it...We want tacos!)

i) ALL of the above

j) NONE of the above

OR

k) Damn girl. Did you ever hear what happens in Vegas, STAYS in Vegas?

answer: NOT when you go with a blogger...hahahaha

Kicking it Ye Olde School

Every year since I returned from the east coast (where a friend reminded me how much fun these are), I pull out my corsets and go to the Southern California Renaissance Faire. I try to go at least twice. Once with my friends when I can drink as long as I can lift my mug, and a 2nd time with the brats, where I try not to scar the kids with wild and out of control behavior.

I had SUCH a blast. This year for the Girls Day Out...there was this guy, who gave me & one of the other wenches free tickets for the cost of a picture.

There was drinking.....

And a kilt check....NO, I didn't take a picture of that. I look crazy to you? Shaddup.

All in all, I'd say that a good time was had by all. The next weekend, I took The Brat... and some of my other friends went and took their kids too. This was the family show, where all the bawdy behavior was kept to a minimum.

There was this guy, who couldn't resist taking a picture with a fairy

Group Photos

And because it was so hot, there was also this guy, who volunteered to keep us cool...

I said bawdy behavior was kept to a minimum*...Besides, I really AM was hot.

*If I didn't do these kinds of things, what would The Brat have to talk about when she starts going to therapy...?

Peanuts!

This weekend, some friends & I went back in time. Okay, maybe not ALL the way back in time…I can’t afford a Delorean. We went to the Renaissance Faire. My brother & his family also went.

This is surprising for 2 reasons:
1. He very rarely hangs out with his big sisters if it’s not a family function
2. We will on occasion pry his wife out of the house, but usually more than happy to ignore our random outings.


Anyways, we had a great time. We had stopped to re-fill our mugs (because if you’re going to go back to “Ye Olde School” you gotta bring your own drinking mug) and rest. As it happens, our rest stop was next to one of the stage shows. They were having a sing along.

To be honest, I wasn’t paying much attention to the show, until I heard PENIS! (I can’t make things up, really) We were next to the over 17 stage. Where they songs are much more uhh..ballsy. It was a sing-along of some sort. They even had a sign to hold up to clue you in on when you were supposed to shout out.

Naturally, that’s when the friends & I decided we were going over to watch the show, because you KNOW I had to go over and watch a show where I was going to get to shout out PENIS! While we were still sitting around, my brother just heard singing and took his five year old daughter over. After the first verse, he runs back asking why NOBODY told him they were singing songs about body parts. My bad for assuming you heard them singing before you ran over with my niece for a sing along, OR saw the sign RIGHT AT THE ENTRANCE that said not for anyone under the age of 17, OR the penis shaped sign they were holding up that said right on it “PENIS!”

What did you THINK they were saying?

PEANUTS! *












See? That’s the problem with men. Even when they’re listening they’re not listening.

Then again, maybe it's a family trait.

I'll be blouses

(anybody remember that Chappelle skit? anyone?)

Ahem. Last weekend I went to see Prince. PRINCE. I have been in love with him since I was a girl in the 80's listening to the single of soft and wet at my cousin's house because HER mom didn't know anything about Prince and let her listen to whatever she wanted to, and my mom was SO UNFAIR and said there was no way in hell I could listen to that and as long as I lived in her house I had to abide by HER RULES, so me & my cousin would listen to it on her RECORD PLAYER -you know one of those records where you had to put the little thingy in the middle so it would play on your record player?

But I digress. I have tried to see Prince a gazillion times. But the stars just would not align. Of course, at first I was too young. Heh. Could you imagine asking your mom to see a person whose records you're not even supposed to KNOW about? Right. I actually DID see him once, at some random award show (when you live in LA you're bound to end up at an award show now & then, I think we won tickets on the radio or something...) Totally didn't count. And so I put him on the list of people to do err...to SEE:

1. U2

2. Rolling Stones (if they're not dead before I can afford good seats)

3. Aerosmith (ditto)

4. Prince

5. Those damn Killers (it's like they're playing hide & seek)

There were others, but let's just say the last few years have been busy concert-wise...So now I've really just got the BIG BANDS (except the killers, which is just a matter of principal), and Prince. And one day I'm at work when I get an e-mail from a friend that says that Prince is in concert the next weekend, did I want to go? Do I want to go? Hell yes! He had 3 concerts-- all in one night. I chose the midnight show. Because if you could be anywhere at midnight, wouldn't you want to be with Prince? Rawr.

Anyhoots, good times. Even though he is so tiny (sorry honey, you are), he is still SO.VERY.SEXY. I was in the general admission, which for the venue was standing in front of the stage, so yes, I got a up close, and personal look at his royal highness. I got to watch Prince do what he was obviously born to do AND I also got to see Chaka Khan sing "Sweet Thang", which was...totally mind-blowing.

What I didn't get was a picture because 1. Prince does not let fans bring in cameras 2. He had JUST told somebody "hey..don't take my picture, just enjoy the show" 3. My phone does NOT have a flash and takes shitty indoor pix. Also..4. I STILL don't have a camera. Mine crapped out a few months ago and I've been too lazy to go to best buy or target or somewhere and pick one up. So that ALSO means: No drunk pictures of my friends, or the cuties that bought us a round. Dang!

Prince also asked what did we want him to play...and then played Beautiful Ones...I love that song...I really was hoping for darling nikki, but...it was not to be. I can't complain though. Because really? I got to see this smirk in person, and is a total 'panty dropper', while he played the guitar and that alone was pretty damn awesome.

What didn't I do in Vegas

So this weekend I was in Vegas. Along with a bajillion other people, mostly cops. This weekend was Baker to Vegas weekend. That would be when every law enforcement agency in California gets all competitive and has a race from Baker, California to Las Vegas to see who’s really badass. So if you were inclined to do something illegal, that was probably the time. NOT that I would recommend that. But they had to be short staffed is all I’m sayin’.

Moving on…I stayed at the Luxor. Which is my favorite hotel in Vegas. (Do you think if I mention that I puffy heart & rainbows the Luxor enough times, they will hook me up with a free stay?) I got a good deal on my room AND I talked them into putting our rooms together…and more importantly we were close to the elevator. Which is always good ‘cause hello? I’m going to be drinking. I don’t wanna walk far.

My whole plan was to twitter while I was there in Vegas, but yeah. I was drinking. So… so much for THAT plan.

I was also going to meet up with my cousin & his wife while I was there since apparently HE was there for the weekend too. Heh. Didn’t do that either.

And then? Meet up with an old co-worker who now LIVES in Vegas. Nope.com (Sensing a trend anybody?)

Got a ticket to do one of those surveys where they make you watch TV for ½ hour and then try to see if you remember any of the commercials..Didn’t make time for that either.

I DID however go to a place call Tacos & Tequila in the Luxor, where I had breakfast AND margaritas, and got to listen to a pretty awesome Mariachi Band that took requests. You know I had two: Mariachi Loco! an Por tu maldita amor (the most awesome song ever, and I dare you to say different)

I DIDN’T take pictures however. Because I’ve been too lazy to go shopping for a digital camera. But somebody did. Maybe they’ll get around to sending me some. Maybe I’ll have picture that I won’t be embarrassed to post. Psht. Who am I kidding..? I don’t have any shame.

Good times had by all. And I’m doing it again in a few months. wh00t!

By the way....I also didn’t drink free for 2 nights straight because cops love to buy pretty girls drinks OR get back in my room as people were getting up for breakfast OR flirt uncontrollably OR have the biggest breakfast ever and then start having jello shots because no matter how full you are, turns out there’s always room for jello.

A Not so Nursery Rhyme

This is my wristband from the House of Blues

This is Taylor Hawkins drummer, of Chevy Metal (umm…and another band) who I saw last night with my wristband from the HOB

(There is no picture of the people I went with OR the people that I met there because the House of Blues has a STRICT no camera policy although…we DID sneak a camera in, because I’m good like that, I DIDN’T get to use it because there weren’t enough people there to hide a big huge FLASH, and I wasn’t at all interested in getting tossed out on my ass because I like to break rules.)

Let’s just say that I was there and I had a few drinks as I schmoozed with Rock Stars while I watched Taylor Hawkins, drummer of Chevy Metal (and another band. My FAVORITE band) who I saw last night with my wristband from the HOB

This is the picture of the lead singer of Fireball Ministry, the opening act. I only took a picture of THIS because WTF?!.... his pants were supertight and his dick looked sort of obscene in those pants. And I was drunk. After I saw Taylor Hawkins, drummer of Chevy Metal with my wristband from the HOB.

Didn’t stay out too late. Just late enough for this:

This is entryway where I threw my keys & my purse. There’s a table RIGHT by my door, but I didn’t see it because I really had to pee. Because I got drunk, while rocking out to Fireball Ministry and Chevy Metal with my wristband from the HOB.

This is the bathroom where I took off my k-swiss (because I’m SO l.a. y’all) and ripped off my jeans because I apparently decided that I couldn’t pee AND wear my clothes. And that’s where they stayed ‘til this morning. Because I got drunk, while rocking out to Fireball Ministry and Chevy Metal with my wristband from the HOB

This is what’s left of my $60, because valet parking is expensive in Hollywood and so is drinking, while schmoozing with Rock Stars, seeing Fireball Ministry and Chevy Metal with the wristband from the House of Blues.

Good Times*


*Oh yeah. And the green grass grows all around all around, and the green grass grows all around.

How I spend my weekends, The Military Edition

Oh yes, it was THAT time again. The MARINE CORPS BALL WEEKEND. All caps, Good Times. It was bittersweet, it was The Man’s last ball as an enlisted Marine. I can never say, “as a Marine”; because once a Marine, ALWAYS a Marine. He retires next spring after 20 years, and I have no idea what I’m going to do with him underfoot am happy that there will be no more deployments.

But I digress. The ball was at the Stateline this year, that’s Stateline, NEVADA. As in, the very minute you hit the Nevada border you can pull over and loose your ass at the tables or on a one-armed bandit. AND, if you are not a gambler, you can always throw your money away here:

Mmm Hmm.. Have mercy. Outlet shopping. A beautiful, BEAUTIFUL Coach Store, and a SHOE heaven - where you can buy Carlos Santana shoes for $40. (and how hurt were my feelings that my foot is STILL *$#&@ing swollen, I didn’t want to buy shoes because I couldn't wear them out of the store?? Very)

And then there was the whole reason that I went out to begin with*

* Although I make light of the fact that we celebrate the Marine Corps Birthday in such a lighthearted way**, it is an honor to be invited, and INCLUDED in such a ceremony. And every year I'm reminded of that as I watch them celebrate their own; from the oldest (at our ball - born 1953) to the youngest (born 1990. Holy SHIT! The Boy is only 2 weeks older than this MARINE.). To those that didn't make it home:

** Me: Holy crap, did you see the SIZE of that thing? (I was talking about the cake)

The Man: That's what she said.

The stars are NOT out...

Today was somewhat of a lazy day. I took the day off so I could do some school stuff and quite possibly go to a movie. Well, I did the school stuff...but then I got a better offer. I went on a Warner Brothers studio tour!

The last tour that I remember is the Universal Back Lot tour, in which I ended up on the set of some movie because I had wandered off, and I ran into Steven Spielberg who directed me back to where I should have been in the first place. But that was AGES ago.

Anyhooters, I had the day off and my cousin wanted to take me over there, so off we went. I'm not necessarily a star stalker, well...not unless you're this guy, and I probably wouldn't recognize you unless you were in a movie because I don't watch TV much. But you'd figure you'd see a COUPLE of stars on a working lot, right?

I saw where they film ER. The ambulances (which are real) parked at what I'm guessing was the "back of the hospital", I saw "Chicago" where ER is filmed... I saw lights, and cameras...and no action. Not an actor in sight.

I saw the woods where they taped True Blood, one of my favorite new TV shows. Comes on HBO and if you haven't seen it, you're missing out. Really. They showed us Merlotte's, the lagoon where they filmed Treasure Island (which is incidentally, the same "woods"), and they filmed parts of The Last Samurai there.

Also in the woods, I saw: A random folding chair, and some squirrels.

No people. No actor-types, not even a under-fed starlet. WTF?

The tour was fabulous. I saw the set for Chuck, the Friends old set, where they filmed Gilmore Girls...which is one of my favorite shows and the street where they filmed Rent (Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes...). I even got sorted by the sorting hat: Slytherin. Me? Sneaky? Nooo... LOL.

And to top it off...I went to McCormick & Schmicks's across the street from the Warner Brothers lot for lunch. I had a long island ice tea, because they are so good there. I reached down to pick up my napkin and look back up to see the wait staff ushering big & famous star into a booth and pulling the curtain so they can eat in peace. Well, damn. I missed it.

So I guess there were no stars out today. I guess I'll do my star gazing like I always do, when they randomly end up visiting the hospital for whatever it is, they come there for. Let's just hope it's not while I'm singing in the bathroom thinking I'm alone.

A tale of two costumes

Well, I've been hemming and hawing about Halloween time and now it's almost here. What are we gonna be for Halloween, dude? Wouldn't be such a big deal, but a friend of his throws a party every year, and now that we're local, we make it a point to attend. He does not know. But, in the way of The Man, who tries to avoid shopping whenever possible...he says whatever I choose is fine with him. What if I put you in a dress? Whatever, he says. I'm not shopping, so I can't be mad at whatever costume YOU pick. And can you just picture where I'm going with this? It's become like a game.

2 years ago...

Except I didn't look as slutty because I'm short AND I couldn't find red sequined shoes..Mmm hmm..that's the ONLY reason. Oh, did I have a good laugh at his expense that year. Mr. I'm-using-a-string-as-a-belt. Hee.

I figured that the next time I asked for his input he will be QUICK to have an opinion. I figured wrong...

Last year...

He DIDN'T have an opinion. I asked him, I did. But when he wouldn't give me a straight answer...well, I picked something cute for me and got him the matching outfit. AND, I sprung it on him the day of the Halloween Party. I am the greatest wife ever, and please don't forget it.

In my defense, MY costume did not come with a wig, just a cute bonnet...so HOW was I to know that his would come complete with sailor hat and ribbon hair? I wasn't. Can I tell you I just about peed my shorts (that I DID wear underneath that teeny skirt...I'm a grown woman, you do NOT want to see what's up there when the wind kicks up) when he put the whole get up on? He either loves me, or is plotting very serious revenge.

After this costume, The Man got a little hostile because his costume did not have...pockets. Nevermind that I take him out in public looking completely ridiculous, his big beef is he has nowhere to store his wallet. I mean, it's not like I'm not carrying a PURSE or anything like that. No, he wants to carry his own shit, and not come to me for money, or his keys, or cigarettes.

So. We can go as cowboys & indian. Cowboys wear jeans and those have POCKETS. No? Really. Okay..how about baseball players? Umm..nooo. Now I'M starting to get irritated. Well what the hell do you want to be?! A freakin' GLADIATOR?! Hell, nah. That does NOT have pockets. And that toga gets COLD. Fine. We're walking through Target (aka "the mugger") and I see a chicken costume...How about that one? It does TOO have pockets. No. Okay.

I've asked you a baJILLION times what the hell you want to wear as a costume, you've been difficult - I'm sure on purpose, just to drive me batshit. Well, it worked, unfortunately for you. Say hello to your costume:

It's got one BIG GIANT pocket. RIGHT. IN. FRONT.

You will not only be able to put the car keys in there, you could probably put the WHOLE DAMN CAR. Or maybe we can forgo the car altogether, and you can hop me on over to the party in your big fucking pocket?

I really hope that since he was so adamant about his costume having pockets, he appreciates my wifely spite wish to give The Man what he asked for.

Do you think next year, I'll STILL be allowed to pick out the costumes? How do you top a KANGAROO?