It's Arts and Crafts Bad

I am very nervous about the economy right now - as is everyone else. It's actually something that I am actually following on the news and online (please pick your mouth up from the floor). People are losing their jobs, they aren't able to retire, credit is going out the window - it's pretty bad. However, nothing was more disturbing when I saw what my father had been working on recently. As I walked onto the porch of my parent's house in NJ I all of a sudden see all of these art supplies (posterboard, stencils (in all letter sizes), markers, a ruler, etc.) It was a la one of my 5th grade projects that I worked so diligently on.



As I got a closer look I start to make out the stenciled words on the paper. Crayon Colors, Painting and Paperhanging. I am flabbergasted and distraught at what my eyes are seeing. (Crayon Colors is my father's painting and paperhanging business that he has had for oh let's say maybe 25-30 years?) I turn to my mother and say "What the hell is this" and she starts to laugh and explains that my father went out and bought these supplies at staples to make signs to hang around town. I said "WHAT!?" Are you kidding me? Ok even I know how to make a sign on publisher with a little clip art - nothing fancy and then can take it to Staples to have some nice color copies made.



And the word price was cut off at the end of the sign. Like when you didn't judge how long your ruler line was and started your bubble letters all nice and big and fluffy and when you got to the end of "Sarah Loves Johnny Forever" it's really more of a "Sarah Loves Johnny Fore" oh shit I ran out of room.



The worst part was my dad started to completely justify his crafty sign making. I believe his exact words were "People are looking for cheap these days" and his hodge podge sign would attract them to call up his business. Later they come to find out either a 12 year old or a gaggle of Mexicans is running his shop based on their advanced marketing pieces.



I had to take a picture just for you to see this horrible sight. I then took the sign back up to Providence with me to make a new one on publisher or gasp maybe even photoshop (which my father would probably think was an actual photo. shop.)

So folks - you know things are bad when my father has resorted back to the 5th grade to promote his 25 year old painting and paperhanging business. Someone please get this man a glossy flyer.

I think I've sampled every nut.

This past weekend I was home in NJ and as always it was action packed. I tend to like to schedule a million things into a 48 hour weekend that I end up literally running from one thing to another. This weekend was no different. I recently started selling jewelry through one of those home show companies (haha because I have sooo much free time) and my mom was hosting my first show at our house so I ran to Costco with her (only after having a meeting at the Marriott for my ten year high school reunion and stopping at the mall for a new fall coat).

As soon as we get there I make a beeline for all of the sample stations - obviously the best part of any Costco shopping trip. I was immediately disappointed to only find a swiss cheese station, italian wedding soup station, and an assorted nut station (poor showing Costco). So I go over to the assorted nuts and am sampling the cinammon sugar covered almonds and butter rum pecans and I see out of the corner of my eye this steroid loving muscle man with tatoos all over his arms looking at me. I turn around to leave and he says to me "those are some good nuts right?" and I kind of mumble "yeah they are". Thinking that our interaction was over (and contemplating whether or not to turn around for one more sugar almond) I decide to try to find another sample station. As I'm walking away my tattoo man starts to follow me and all of a sudden says "hey you dropped something" and as I turn around he is picking up a piece of paper off the ground. He hands it to me and I'm just staring at it realizing that he has just handed me his phone number. Just to clarify tattoo man says "It's my phone number". I say oh thanks and proceed to run to try to find my mother where I say "Mother F-er" "We need to leave immmeeediately." I swear this only happens to me - I attract weirdos wherever I go.

Here is the number on the floor reinactment (very law and order)

After my mother had a good chuckle about this we examine the piece of paper which has CLEARLY been sitting in his back pocket for a long time (I mean it is rare to see someone as stunning as I stuffing her face with nuts at Costco) however it was quite disturbing that he was so prepared for our run-in.


Of course my mother thinks I need to start touring all of the Costco's for eligible bachelors. I mean honestly - why can't a handsome, smart, funny, not afraid of commitments man start dropping his phone number at my feet? Because that's not how the world works. It will continue to make me sample every nut on this planet until the right one comes along.

Costco, stock up.

Hotlanta Hates Us (But we tried oh so hard to love it anyway)

Soooo I just got back from a weekend in Hotlanta to witness yet another one of my friends bite the dust and get hitched. I was super excited to see my friend, but with the way my current dating state of affairs has been was hesitant to be around all the lovey dovey stuff. Apparently Hotlanta was not feeling my arrival either.





I was traveling down with T who was the third of our Fab Four group. At one point in time we were a force to be reckoned with in Providence - myself, T, southern bell, and our fourth friend Foxywhite (that is her "business" name and I'm mortified every time she introduces herself as such). Unfortunately southern bell moved back to Hotlanta to be with her now husband and the Fab Four never quite survived her departure. Foxy didn't make the trip so it was just me and T in the great ATL!





So T and I got our big asses up at 4:30 in the morning to make it to the Boston airport for our 7:30 flight. I force us to both wear our University of Georgia t-shirts that southern bell sent us for Christmas to show good Georgia spirit. I was only able to fake the answers to approximately two questions when asked about the football team. ("Is there a game today?" "yes." aaaannndd hmmm ok maybe just one question). We get on the plane and there is something about planes that makes me extremely drousy. I proceed to pass out while we sat on the runway for an hour. There is a problem with one of the wings (reassuring) but I'm in such a deep sleep i have no idea what is going on (I'm sure if I was fully alert I would have wanted to exit the plane immediately) Hotlanta Hates Us Sign #1.





We finally get to ATL but have definitely missed the bridal brunch and I'm cursing the fact that I'm not sipping on a mimosa at this point. We go to get our luggage and of course mine is nowhere to be found. I'm trying to describe my oh so cute vera bradley suitcase in the java blue print to the "I have no empathy for anyone" Airtran employee and she is making me decide if there is more blue or brown in the pattern - which if anyone knows what I'm talking about there is a completely even mixture of both. And if I had to say "yes by pattern I mean a print" one more time I thought I was going to scream. Hotlanta Hates Us Sign #2





We finally get to the hotel and southern bell is so excited to see us as we are her. We hang around in her suite for awhile but eventually are so starving that we need to order room service for lunch. T and I go back to our room to wait for our food. And wait. And wait. And watch this horrible original lifetime movie starring freddy prinze jr. And wait. We decide to call and see what's going on before we really lose it and come to find out our order was never placed. Hotlanta Hates Us Sign #3.





After we ate a delicious lunch paid for by the Westin we get ready for the big event. We are told there are no shuttles to the ceremony so the best bet is to take a cab. All spruced up and trying not to break a sweat in the 95 degree weather we pile into a cab and ask Habnam Prhtghmrt to take us to the Trolley Barn. He then tells us that he has no idea where that is. Neither does the bellman, the security officer or anyone on the entire Westin hotel staff (ok i'm exagerrating but seriously isn't that what these people are there for). I proceed to have a mini hissy fit and storm back upstairs to our room to get the address from our little welcome bag.(I already ate about 5 snickers and chex mix) By the time I get back the bellman had already printed out directions for our cab driver which pissed me off even more. Apparently mapquest directions didn't help either because we still got lost - and then I saw that he had a navigation system sitting on the passenger seat the whole time. (What??). Hotlanta Hates Us Sign #4.





We make it to the ceremony and run down to catch a glimpse of southern bell who looks absolutely stunning. We then grab our seats for the big moment. The ceremony is all well and nice until the officiant starts talking about southern bell needing to be submissive to her new hubby and that he is the head of the household and she needs to respect him blah blah blah. I look over at T with this horrified look in my face (sorry sb! everything else was so so lovely) like what did he just say and did we take a plane this morning to 1954? Still not quite over my initial shock I looked around to see everyone smiling and nodding along. Scrambling to pick my chin up off the floor I realized that we might of as well had "Northerner" signs stapled to our cute floral dresses at that point. Hotlanta Hates Us Sign #5.





T and I quickly run to the champagne table during the cocktail hour and began downing as many peach bellini's that we could. Despite the slim number of single guys at the wedding the rest of the evening involved great food and dancing. One of southern bell's friends that she had told me about awhile ago was in attendance. (she also believes he is my "soul mate") (he also now has a girlfriend) (who is a stage 5 clinger). However in my drunken state by the end of the night I was able to go up to him while she was off getting another beverage and introduced myself as his soul mate. riiighht. That would be funny if the story ended right there yet he then proceeded to email me on mypsace the next day. I love how I attract unavailable men (in every meaning of the word) all over the country. Yet, the night was not complete without a 300 pound black man named Sammy that worked for the catering company coming up to me and in his souther drawl said "Missss Southeeerrrn Bell (haha he actually used her real name but that would have been funny if he called her that) told me that I could have one dance this eeevenin and I want that dance to be with yoouuu." Mother Fucker. Despite my initial reaction he really was very sweet and thankfully our "dance" was to some fast jay z song so we were able to keep the holy ghost between us. Hotlanta maybe doesn't hate us but likes to fuck with us sign #6


Let's just say the rest of the weekend included the following:



-Being picked up by four businessmen from Texas at the Hard Rock Cafe (Old Man Texan, Single Texan, Married Texan, and Quiet Texan that wore a cigarette over each ear).

-Proceeded to be grilled by Old Man Texas on questions such as what the population of Providence is, what my interests are (and kept insisting it was boys like a broken record as I tried to answer), and if i know where the Red River is (no but I will kill you and throw you in it in about 3 seconds).

-Then proceeded to get into an indepth discussion with the Single Texan about why the officiant told southern bell to be submissive. (I'm still not convinced) (Plus he looked like Slade from Real Housewives from Orange County - absolutely no credibility).

- Then proceeded to find a 24 hour diner with karaoke with Married Texan and Quiet Texan in which I of course became the star of the show.

-Brought a little NJ to ATL with Living on a Prayer (however it was slightly ruined by the high pitched singing of my Atlanta Gay that insisted on singing with me.) (i know. as soon as I walked in he recognized me as America's Hag. where was the paparazzi?)


Ok well maybe Hotlanta DID love us by the time we left. I mean what city would bring us four Texans, an Atlanta gay and 24 hours of karaoke in one night?

Oh and on the flight home we had to remain seated when we landed so that four state troopers could come on board and arrest a man for an unknown "altercation" with a flight attendant.
Nevermind. Hotlanta hates us.

The Itsy Bitsy Spider

Tortured me on my ride home. I had to drive the rest of the way home with the overhead light on and my body rigid while the creepy thing crawled all over the place. Since this was at about 10:00 at night I had just about had it with this Monday.



After my extremely boring weekend I lined up all my ducks in a row to get ready for the week ahead. My apartment was clean, my clothes clean, groceries for the week. I was on top and ready to start Monday.



Well apparently Monday wanted none of it:



7:30 am - I go to take the turkey out to make my lunch and it's frozen. Completely frozen. I decide to try to defrost it by putting it above the pot of pasta I was making (I know - I'm crazy but I wasn't going to be home for dinner so I needed to pack that too) and proceeded to burn my hand. I resorted to breaking off a chunk of frozen turkey and slapping it on a slice of wheat bread with hope that it would defrost by the time I ate it.



9:20 am - After my boss tortured me for weeks about these welcome baskets I put together for freshmen he wanted me to take a picture of them. After I sent the picture I got this email: "Hmmmm not working for me. I have my camera here if you want to try again." deep breath in, deep breath out.



1:00 pm - Go to the doctor for a physical. On my lunch hour. HOUR. With my laundry list of ailments in tow I knew I was in trouble when they didn't even have me go into the room until 1:30. The doctor finally comes in - asks me a few questions and then tells me to get undressed while he goes to get something. He mumbles a lot so it sounded like "mmbmbmb get bmbmbmb undressed bmbmbmbm be right back mbmbm. So i'm sitting there in the gown and I can honestly feel my blood pressure rising as i count the minutes go by and no sign of the doctor. What are the rules with that? Is there a certain amount of time that goes by before you can go outside in the hall and ask for help with your bare ass out there for the doctor's office to see? Then you try interpreting every sound. Which door is opening? Is it mine? No. Who is talking in the next room? Is it the doctor? Is he seeing another patient?? It's enough to make you insane. You have this whole speech prepared in your head about how doctor's need to respect their patient's time and blah blah blah. Yet when he comes in you say nothing. Finally he comes back and we proceed through the ackward procedure. I then try to convince him that I have thyroid problems (trouble losing weight, always cold, needing 12 hours a sleep a night). Apparently my doctor wasn't convinced and mumbled something about going on the South Beach diet. thanks.

2:40 - I speed back into work and didn't have time to drop off a care package (i stole one of the freshman welcome baskets) for my cousin who started as a freshman at Quinnipiac. I then lug it to the on campus post office which has already closed. So then I lug it back. I'm the new ups girl apparently.

6:30 - I go see my trainer. Which is not my red headed boyfriend. He quit/was fired (still in question) and didn't even say goodbye. And now he won't return my calls or answer my facebook emails. I now have Kim. Who is very good. YET she kicks my ass every time. No more pouting or trying to get out of exercises. She means business and I'm in trouble.

Which brings me to 10:00 pm when I'm driving home from visiting the sorority that I started to advise after training them on recruitment (that's a whole other story) and discover the spider taking up camp on my dashboard and laughing in my face at how ridiculous my ridiculous day was ending.




side note - I do realize that this was posted on Tuesday - I was so exhausted/pissed off that I couldn't bring myself to finish it last night. oh. and the spider is still on the loose in my car.

VMA's = WTF?

OK - The VMA's were seriously messed up this year. This is honestly one of the most atrocious shows that airs on television.

1. Are they in a garage? Why is it so small? MTV definitely had some budget cuts.
2. I am seriously let down by all the Britney hype. She said two lines.
3. Rihanna literally sounded disturbed. not good.
4. What the fuck was up with "speidi" (a la Spencer and Heidi). They should be killed.
5. I wish I could have legs like Demi at age 45. Heck I wish I could have legs like that now.
6. The Jo Bros are performing on a sound stage that resembles any sitcom that aired in the last 10 years. I don't get this. What is going on?
7. Who is this host? I thought he was in that movie - but is this how he is like all the time? I thought that was just a character.
8. Michael Phelps should just stick to swimming. and did he walk out with headphones on or earmuffs?
9. Thank god for Tivo - I was able to fast forward through all of the rap performances.
10. DID ANYONE PRACTICE WHAT THEY WERE GOING TO SAY?? No one can read off of the teleprompter.

I'm sorry. I can't watch anymore. Sadly I will never get these 68 minutes back.

update - i lied. i did watch a little bit more and did see Pink. who redeemed the entire show. she rocked it and i love her.

I'm bored out of my mind..

Ok - so it is definitely a Saturday night and I'm admitting to writing in my blog. I blame it on the hurricane outside.

TBS must have known I was home bored out of my mind so they have already played Failure to Launch for me and now My Best Friend's Wedding. So I'm watching My Best Friend's Wedding and first of all this movie is a lot funnier than I remembered but there were also a few disturbing things that came to mind:

1. Julia Roberts plays a 27 year old in this movie. For some reason I think I thought she was supposed to be a lot older but her and Michael's "pact" was to get married before they turned 28. Suddenly this movie became a lot more relevant.
2. How the hell did she fit that zack morris cell phone into her clutch at the wedding?
3. Which of all my gays would I pick to be my leading gay man? I would have to hold some kind of competition.
4. Cameron Diaz definitely had a few extra lb's when she first started out. Not that I'm judging. But I am.

I don't think I have it in me to watch the next TBS selection The Perfect Man. Two words: Hilary Duff.