1. What is your occupation? I prolong death for a living.
2. What color are your socks right now? Not wearing any...naked feet. Very sexy!!
3. What are you listening to right now? My "FRIENDS" on TV... they never judge me.
4. What was the last thing you ate? Cheese...needed a bit of a binder tonight.
5. Can you drive a stick shift? Well my last boyfriend didn't complain.
6. Last person you spoke to on the phone? My pimp / business manager ... he owes me money.
7. What is your preferred method of travel? Broomstick
8. How old are you today? 29. And if you believe that, I have a bridge to Hawaii to sell you.
9. What is your favorite sport to watch on TV? Anything that involves men in uniforms...or out of them...I like those too!
10. What is your favorite drink? Spoiled milk. Yum nothing wakes me up in the morning like that taste!
11. Have you ever dyed your hair? Well sure...the drapes have to match the carpet!
12. Favorite food? Anything I don't have to make!
13. What is the last movie you watched? Buffy the Vampire Layer. Hmmm, not so much about vampires.
14. Favorite day of the year? Columbus Day! Killer parties man!
15. How do you vent anger? If I told you, I'd have to kill you and bury you with the others that I got angry over.
16. What was your favorite toy as a child? Strangely enough, the not so well known game of "Running with scissors on ice". Very challenging.
17. What is your favorite season? I like either Sage or Paprika.
18. Cherries or Blueberries? I'll say blueberries...only because I haven't seen my cherry in a long time!
19. What is your favorite book? It's a toss up between "Mein Kampf" and "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish".
20. If you had to make a movie about your life what would it be called? "Oh Brothel, Where Art Thou?"
21. If you fell off a cliff what would be you last thought? Apparently Cliff was too wild for me, should have slept with Paul.
22. Living arrangements? Me, myself and the gardener Lupe.
23. When was the last time you cried? Getting waxed. If you think a Brazilian is painful, you should try the Ethiopian. I won't even tell you what that entails!!!
24. What's on the floor of your closet? Butt pads. Hey, a white girl sometimes wants a "badonka donk"!
25. Do you shower every single day? No. Only on couples day.
26. What did you do last night? That's classified.
27. What are you most afraid of? Heights, spiders and vending machines.
28. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? I don't like it when my "meat" is burning...if you know what I mean. Those antibiotics get expensive!
29. Favorite dog breed? The ones that DOESN'T hump my leg!
30. Favorite day of the week? HUMP DAY!! DUH!!
31.How many states have you lived in? 2...but that's only because I'm banned from the other 48.
32. Diamonds or pearls? Neither. I don't like Prince.
33. What is your favorite flower? The plastic kind.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
My Life in Short Story Form - Volume 2
Nylons
Today's society teaches women that we must conform to a certain image in order to fit in and ultimately find a mate. The skinnier, tanner, bigger chested or wrinkle free you are, the more you will be accepted and seen as a sexy and successful individual. We carve our faces into plastic versions of our younger self, ruin our hair with chemicals (i.e. bleach, hair spray, etc.), put paint on our faces (makeup), and go on ridiculous diets to fit in. (the "Blood Type Diet", the "Cereal Diet", the "Russian Air Force Diet", or the "Three-Day/Hot Dog Diet" are a few of the weird ones out there). We also use clothes and accessories to aid in this attempt at perfection. One of these clothing items that most women have worn at least once in their life is the Nylon stocking.
I attempted to Google "Nylons" to find the answer as to "why" we are forced to wear these complicated garments, but in a not so shocking result, all that came up were porn sites. ("NylonDolls", "Lingerie at Hoes.com", and "Stocking Tease" are some of the more interesting site names.) Women have worn some sort of stockings for over a hundred years, but it wasn't until 1940, that the Nylon stockings were available to consumers nationwide. However, Nylon stockings did not become a part of everyday life immediately or automatically. Many forces and events contributed to creating the social meaning of this new product.
Anyone that knows me, will agree that I generally do not enjoy dressing up. I feel my anxiety level rise when I have to use double sided tape to keep my shirt on, or in trying to master the art of walking in high heels. (Picture a baby deer on ice and it is incredibly liquored-up). So the use of Nylons is not something I have mastered.
As a child growing up in Michigan where the winters can be very blustery, my mom would have me wear the thick, cotton leggings. I always enjoyed wearing those, as they were very slippery and when I had them on, I would break out in the "Moonwalk". However, other then wearing those particular leggings, most of the time my legs went naked. That all came to a screeching halt in the spring of 1995. Around that time, I was preparing for graduation when that dreaded Saturday social gathering reared it's ugly head. Prom was upon me.
I never dated in high school, as I found my choices of guys less then appealing, so when Prom came around I figured I need not worry, as I would not have a date and therefore not have to attend. Several of my girl friends though, decided it would be fun for a bunch of us to go "stag" and enjoy the evening with each other. Ugh... Thank gosh my cousin Stephanie had recently been in a wedding so I borrowed her dress and therefore didn't need to shell out well over a hundred dollars for something that I would never wear again. But along with this dress and some accessories from my cousin (again, thank you Stephanie), it was decided upon that Nylons would need to be used. I really did not want to wear any. I've always said that my legs are my best feature ... why should I not show them off? The dress I was going to wear that night was black, and so my Nylons had to be black. Nylons in themselves are hard enough to put on, but when it comes to the colored version, it is twice as difficult. My attempt at pulling on those stupid things resulted in my legs looking like Michael Jackson's legs. Two toned black and white. Then apparently I had not pulled them up enough, because the crotch of the Nylons ended up somewhere around my knees. I walked like a penguin! I thought my mother and cousin were going to pee themselves they were laughing so hard! I did not find it funny! I did not really want to go to this stupid "right of passage" in the first place, and the morning before having to get ready, I spent at a Regional track meet and was dog tired! I pulled down my Nylons and stood up ordering my cousin to help me out. The next thing I knew, her head was down between my legs trying to sinch them up without pinching my skin. She decided this was too much for her, so my mom tried helping me out. Seriously!? What kind of an incompetent 18 year old woman was I? I finally did get those damned Nylons figured out and put the rest of my outfit on. I even ended up having a great time! We taught the entire prom how to do the "Macarena" as we had just returned from spring break in Mexico and learned it there. (At that time, the craze had yet to hit the States. So I guess you have me to thank for that!)
You are probably wondering how after all of these years do I remember something as stupid as this particular story. Well ... the entire "trying to put the Nylons on" happens to be on video and my family finds some sort of pleasure out of showing it EVERY Christmas Eve!!!!
While researching for this story I found this adorable poem and thought I would share it with you.
Hose wearings an art that all girls should master,
Before she turns 12 -- and perhaps a bit faster.
To start her off right, then it may be too late...
If she's not wearing nylons before she turns eight.
To form a good habit, it's really just fine...
If she's wearing them daily before she turns nine.
For church, school, and play is the answer to "when?"
Beneath skirt or shorts by the time she turns ten.
She should wear them all hours, yes, twenty-four-seven,
Yes, even to sleep by the time she's eleven.
Her teen years are practice to be a good wife,
Then she'll wear them with comfort the rest of her life.
(author unknown)
SIDE NOTE: I still consider my legs to be my best feature and, to this day, can not put Nylons on.
(I'm the 5th one from the right)
Prima Ballerina
Dancing is a form of art, athleticism and grace. Something that can spark emotions from joy to sadness. It is an expression of our inner most beauty through movement. We all have seen the Princesses on the Disney cartoons dance their way into the Prince's arms, or watched the "Nutcracker" with the one and only Mikhail Baryshnikov on PBS. All little girls at one time in their life want to grow up to be a dancer, and I was no exception.
At an early age, my mom enrolled me and my little sister in gymnastics in an effort to corral my spastic limbs into something that resembled an angelic form. Unfortunately, I ended up growing so much in height during the class, that my joints would no longer take the abuse of a back hand spring or the uneven bars. I tried Karate a year or two after that in an effort to maintain some agile finesse , but again, my body decided that it wasn't done growing and I had to withdraw after a few months of experiencing constant knee pain. I would later be diagnosed with "Osgood Schlatters Disease". It sounds much worse then it is really. Basically, it is pain caused by extreme and fast growth in children who are involved in a high level of athletic activity. Due to the growth, there is a pulling force from the patella tendon, onto the bony protrusion at the top of the shin. This area then becomes inflamed, painful and swollen. My knees would be so sore, I couldn't even touch them. It made being a Catholic girl, having to kneel at church, kind of a painful experience. But I digress. I eventually stopped growing at the short stature of 5 foot 10 inches and found my way back into the sporting world. However, I never had the mind to go back into the dance or gymnastics side of things. It was basketball, swimming and tennis for me baby.
I always have had rhythm and loved to dance. In fact, my entire family has been known to "bogey on down" at a few parties. The sound of the beat making my hips swivel is a liberating experience. As a kid, I would rock out to all types of music. From classical to the oldies, anything that had a beat, had me groovin! I even tried "break dancing" to Neil Diamond once. Now that's talent! How many other people out there thought that somewhere hidden in the lyrics of "Forever in Blue Jeans", there was a spot to do a head spin? (FYI there is a video of this as well) However, it wasn't until I was 20 and in college that the thought crossed my mind that maybe I was destined to be a professional dancer. What might you ask caused this late in life epiphany considering most dancers have been training since they could walk? Well, in 1997, my wonderful cousin Stephanie (yup the same girl from the Nylon experience), got us 5th row, center tickets to see Janet Jackson!! I watched in awe how all of her dancers made her music come to life with their flow! It was literally a life altering experience. At that moment, I knew, God was calling me ... and He was calling me to DANCE!!!
At the time of this divine revelation, I was attending Grand Valley State University with a major in Physical Education and Sports Medicine. Part of my requirement for graduation happened to be a credit in either aerobics or dance. Well I chose dance. They offered several different classes. Ballet to swing, jazz to ballroom. I knew my heart was leaning towards becoming a professional hip hop dancer, so jazz seemed like the most logical choice. I bought the required "jazz" shoes, slid my then skinny body into spandex and prepared to "wow" the class with my natural groove! A funny thing happened though, within the first 10 minutes of class, I realized that I was a complete and utter klutz!! How could this be? At the club I always got the man's attention with my "booty bumping"!? Could it be, that perhaps the massive amounts of alcohol in their system (or in mine), made me a better dancer? My dreams were shattering with every "ball change" or "stag leap" I attempted. In my mind I looked like Janet herself, but when I saw my reflection in the mirror, the vision that stared back at me was frightening! Picture a giraffe with the grace of an elephant on sheet of glass covered in butter. It wasn't pretty by any means! I stuck it out for the entire semester hoping that by the grace of God, I would be able to figure out how to count out an eight step and not end up on my ass when I did a spin. No such luck. I gained the credit I needed to graduate, but retired my jazz shoes and my dreams of being a professional dancer at the same time. Now had they taught, "Bar Room Dance 101", I would have been able to teach the damn class!!!
I haven't been out to the clubs in several years (as my age has increased and the patrons ages at the bars have not), but I still miss those days. To be carefree, enjoying some great music, sippin on some fruity cocktail and thinking you are the hottest piece of ass out there is an amazing feeling!!
Today's society teaches women that we must conform to a certain image in order to fit in and ultimately find a mate. The skinnier, tanner, bigger chested or wrinkle free you are, the more you will be accepted and seen as a sexy and successful individual. We carve our faces into plastic versions of our younger self, ruin our hair with chemicals (i.e. bleach, hair spray, etc.), put paint on our faces (makeup), and go on ridiculous diets to fit in. (the "Blood Type Diet", the "Cereal Diet", the "Russian Air Force Diet", or the "Three-Day/Hot Dog Diet" are a few of the weird ones out there). We also use clothes and accessories to aid in this attempt at perfection. One of these clothing items that most women have worn at least once in their life is the Nylon stocking.
I attempted to Google "Nylons" to find the answer as to "why" we are forced to wear these complicated garments, but in a not so shocking result, all that came up were porn sites. ("NylonDolls", "Lingerie at Hoes.com", and "Stocking Tease" are some of the more interesting site names.) Women have worn some sort of stockings for over a hundred years, but it wasn't until 1940, that the Nylon stockings were available to consumers nationwide. However, Nylon stockings did not become a part of everyday life immediately or automatically. Many forces and events contributed to creating the social meaning of this new product.
Anyone that knows me, will agree that I generally do not enjoy dressing up. I feel my anxiety level rise when I have to use double sided tape to keep my shirt on, or in trying to master the art of walking in high heels. (Picture a baby deer on ice and it is incredibly liquored-up). So the use of Nylons is not something I have mastered.
As a child growing up in Michigan where the winters can be very blustery, my mom would have me wear the thick, cotton leggings. I always enjoyed wearing those, as they were very slippery and when I had them on, I would break out in the "Moonwalk". However, other then wearing those particular leggings, most of the time my legs went naked. That all came to a screeching halt in the spring of 1995. Around that time, I was preparing for graduation when that dreaded Saturday social gathering reared it's ugly head. Prom was upon me.
I never dated in high school, as I found my choices of guys less then appealing, so when Prom came around I figured I need not worry, as I would not have a date and therefore not have to attend. Several of my girl friends though, decided it would be fun for a bunch of us to go "stag" and enjoy the evening with each other. Ugh... Thank gosh my cousin Stephanie had recently been in a wedding so I borrowed her dress and therefore didn't need to shell out well over a hundred dollars for something that I would never wear again. But along with this dress and some accessories from my cousin (again, thank you Stephanie), it was decided upon that Nylons would need to be used. I really did not want to wear any. I've always said that my legs are my best feature ... why should I not show them off? The dress I was going to wear that night was black, and so my Nylons had to be black. Nylons in themselves are hard enough to put on, but when it comes to the colored version, it is twice as difficult. My attempt at pulling on those stupid things resulted in my legs looking like Michael Jackson's legs. Two toned black and white. Then apparently I had not pulled them up enough, because the crotch of the Nylons ended up somewhere around my knees. I walked like a penguin! I thought my mother and cousin were going to pee themselves they were laughing so hard! I did not find it funny! I did not really want to go to this stupid "right of passage" in the first place, and the morning before having to get ready, I spent at a Regional track meet and was dog tired! I pulled down my Nylons and stood up ordering my cousin to help me out. The next thing I knew, her head was down between my legs trying to sinch them up without pinching my skin. She decided this was too much for her, so my mom tried helping me out. Seriously!? What kind of an incompetent 18 year old woman was I? I finally did get those damned Nylons figured out and put the rest of my outfit on. I even ended up having a great time! We taught the entire prom how to do the "Macarena" as we had just returned from spring break in Mexico and learned it there. (At that time, the craze had yet to hit the States. So I guess you have me to thank for that!)
You are probably wondering how after all of these years do I remember something as stupid as this particular story. Well ... the entire "trying to put the Nylons on" happens to be on video and my family finds some sort of pleasure out of showing it EVERY Christmas Eve!!!!
While researching for this story I found this adorable poem and thought I would share it with you.
Hose wearings an art that all girls should master,
Before she turns 12 -- and perhaps a bit faster.
To start her off right, then it may be too late...
If she's not wearing nylons before she turns eight.
To form a good habit, it's really just fine...
If she's wearing them daily before she turns nine.
For church, school, and play is the answer to "when?"
Beneath skirt or shorts by the time she turns ten.
She should wear them all hours, yes, twenty-four-seven,
Yes, even to sleep by the time she's eleven.
Her teen years are practice to be a good wife,
Then she'll wear them with comfort the rest of her life.
(author unknown)
SIDE NOTE: I still consider my legs to be my best feature and, to this day, can not put Nylons on.
(I'm the 5th one from the right)
Prima Ballerina
Dancing is a form of art, athleticism and grace. Something that can spark emotions from joy to sadness. It is an expression of our inner most beauty through movement. We all have seen the Princesses on the Disney cartoons dance their way into the Prince's arms, or watched the "Nutcracker" with the one and only Mikhail Baryshnikov on PBS. All little girls at one time in their life want to grow up to be a dancer, and I was no exception.
At an early age, my mom enrolled me and my little sister in gymnastics in an effort to corral my spastic limbs into something that resembled an angelic form. Unfortunately, I ended up growing so much in height during the class, that my joints would no longer take the abuse of a back hand spring or the uneven bars. I tried Karate a year or two after that in an effort to maintain some agile finesse , but again, my body decided that it wasn't done growing and I had to withdraw after a few months of experiencing constant knee pain. I would later be diagnosed with "Osgood Schlatters Disease". It sounds much worse then it is really. Basically, it is pain caused by extreme and fast growth in children who are involved in a high level of athletic activity. Due to the growth, there is a pulling force from the patella tendon, onto the bony protrusion at the top of the shin. This area then becomes inflamed, painful and swollen. My knees would be so sore, I couldn't even touch them. It made being a Catholic girl, having to kneel at church, kind of a painful experience. But I digress. I eventually stopped growing at the short stature of 5 foot 10 inches and found my way back into the sporting world. However, I never had the mind to go back into the dance or gymnastics side of things. It was basketball, swimming and tennis for me baby.
I always have had rhythm and loved to dance. In fact, my entire family has been known to "bogey on down" at a few parties. The sound of the beat making my hips swivel is a liberating experience. As a kid, I would rock out to all types of music. From classical to the oldies, anything that had a beat, had me groovin! I even tried "break dancing" to Neil Diamond once. Now that's talent! How many other people out there thought that somewhere hidden in the lyrics of "Forever in Blue Jeans", there was a spot to do a head spin? (FYI there is a video of this as well) However, it wasn't until I was 20 and in college that the thought crossed my mind that maybe I was destined to be a professional dancer. What might you ask caused this late in life epiphany considering most dancers have been training since they could walk? Well, in 1997, my wonderful cousin Stephanie (yup the same girl from the Nylon experience), got us 5th row, center tickets to see Janet Jackson!! I watched in awe how all of her dancers made her music come to life with their flow! It was literally a life altering experience. At that moment, I knew, God was calling me ... and He was calling me to DANCE!!!
At the time of this divine revelation, I was attending Grand Valley State University with a major in Physical Education and Sports Medicine. Part of my requirement for graduation happened to be a credit in either aerobics or dance. Well I chose dance. They offered several different classes. Ballet to swing, jazz to ballroom. I knew my heart was leaning towards becoming a professional hip hop dancer, so jazz seemed like the most logical choice. I bought the required "jazz" shoes, slid my then skinny body into spandex and prepared to "wow" the class with my natural groove! A funny thing happened though, within the first 10 minutes of class, I realized that I was a complete and utter klutz!! How could this be? At the club I always got the man's attention with my "booty bumping"!? Could it be, that perhaps the massive amounts of alcohol in their system (or in mine), made me a better dancer? My dreams were shattering with every "ball change" or "stag leap" I attempted. In my mind I looked like Janet herself, but when I saw my reflection in the mirror, the vision that stared back at me was frightening! Picture a giraffe with the grace of an elephant on sheet of glass covered in butter. It wasn't pretty by any means! I stuck it out for the entire semester hoping that by the grace of God, I would be able to figure out how to count out an eight step and not end up on my ass when I did a spin. No such luck. I gained the credit I needed to graduate, but retired my jazz shoes and my dreams of being a professional dancer at the same time. Now had they taught, "Bar Room Dance 101", I would have been able to teach the damn class!!!
I haven't been out to the clubs in several years (as my age has increased and the patrons ages at the bars have not), but I still miss those days. To be carefree, enjoying some great music, sippin on some fruity cocktail and thinking you are the hottest piece of ass out there is an amazing feeling!!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
My Life in Short Story Form - Volume 1
How many of us have really stopped to think about our childhood and how it defined us as an adult? We all have those stories that we think back on and wonder if that is what made me the person I am today. When I think back on mine, I wonder sometimes how I was not committed for a longer period of time, or ended up being on "America's Most Wanted". So in an effort to avoid the high price of therapy, I've decided to start sharing some of my stories. I will try and keep them coming at a regular basis. And believe me, I have PLENTY of material. Shall we begin?
My First Born
When I was 2 1/2, my mom was pregnant with my sister Andrea. Most kids are excited to have a new edition to the family, and I was no exception. However, I took it to the next level and thought that I was pregnant as well. I would walk around and lift my shirt up to strangers, stick out my little belly and make it move in and out saying it was the "baby" kicking. When it was time for Andrea to be born, my parents bought me a baby doll and gave it to me at the hospital. I was overjoyed!! I found the whole experience of being a new mom incredibly rewarding! However, at one point I decided that just being gifted with my new baby wasn't enough. I really needed to experience the true meaning of having one. So one day I presented myself in front of my family with one of my dads dress shirts on backwards (like a hospital gown) and commanded attention. I announced that I was in labor and with a loud scream, dropped my baby doll from my thighs in which I had been concealing it and gave birth! I am grateful that at 2 1/2, I did not understand the many other ailments that go along with pregnancy. Can you imagine if I would have started complaining about hemorrhoids or stretch marks? I was an excellent mother. I never withheld anything from my little one, which included proper nourishment. Being that it was 1979, and all the modern day baby formulas that are out now, were not in existence, it was not unusual to see my mother breast feed my sister. Babies are hungry all of the time, and mine was no exception. And one day mine became fitful with hunger in the middle of Catholic mass. Any parent knows that keeping a kid quiet during mass is a challenge in itself. Mine kept me quiet by allowing me to bring my baby. I, in turn, had to keep my baby quiet by feeding it. So, while everyone was getting up for communion, I lifted my Sunday's best shirt and revealed my "mosquito bites" of nipples to the Lord and placed my baby doll on to feed. Needless to say, that was the last time my baby accompanied me to church.
My Pet Bunny
I've always had a fascination with anything medical. As an 11 year old, I did a paper on the human heart and met with a professor at Grand Valley State University who introduced me into the world of human anatomy. I was fascinated with the concept of being able to look inside of someone and see all of the inner workings that makes us a one of a kind. I was sadden to later find out that acquiring human organs just to play with was not very easy or legal. I there for had to resort to the next best thing... animal remains. SIDE NOTE: Please, no one from PETA contact me. I was an 11 year old, curious budding scientist and meant no harm. Besides, you guys are f*#king nuts! Back to my story ... My father fancied himself a farmer although he worked as an engineer in the auto industry. We owned chickens, rabbits, cows and sheep. It was not uncommon for us as children to raise our own rabbits, name them, then kill them in the winter to eat for Sunday dinner. I often found my nose being titillated with the wonderful smells from my mother's kitchen and would ask what was cooking. My mother would reply "your rabbit George of course". But I digress. During one particularly cold spell in the winter, one of the baby bunnies got caught in the outside cage and froze to death. I found the eternally "sleeping" bunny in the morning and decided that it would be my first anatomy specimen. I had not yet purchased the required preservative needed to maintain his sleeping appearance, so I placed him in a Zip-Lock bag and tossed him into the freezer. As a child, not only did I have educational ambitions, but I also had an abnormal sense of humor that some people might construe as morbid. For some reason, when visitors would come over, I thought it would be nice to share my new prize with them. However, I decided to ask the unsuspecting person if they would like to see one of our baby bunnies, instead of the dead rodent I had laying next to the frozen corn and peas. I would carefully place the slumbering icicle in my hands and cradle it very gently. Quietly I would walk toward my innocent victim and tell them to be very still because the bunny was sleeping. I would softly pet the my furry popsicle then ask if they would want to hold it. Upon them opening their hands to accept my precious gift, I would take the bunny and throw it at them. This of course caused quite the commotion! The house would erupt with horrid screams! The only sound that broke up this noise, was that of the "bunnysicle" hitting the floor which sounded like a small baseball bouncing up and down on pavement. After the initial shock had worn off, I would then pick up the rabbit and explain to my shocked audience that it was dead and frozen. I would bang it onto the table to reiterate this point. For some reason, no one ever got a laugh out of this stunt besides me.
Later when I entered college, I still found the study of anatomy intriguing and exciting. I took every human anatomy class and cadaver lab I could. I never gained the traditional "freshman 15", however, when I was in the anatomy lab, I would constantly be hungry playing with the muscles. I ate Subway roast beef sandwiches everyday just to calm my carnivore needs. I still wonder to this day, if that urge to eat meat after seeing human muscle makes me a little bit cannibalistic.
My First Born
When I was 2 1/2, my mom was pregnant with my sister Andrea. Most kids are excited to have a new edition to the family, and I was no exception. However, I took it to the next level and thought that I was pregnant as well. I would walk around and lift my shirt up to strangers, stick out my little belly and make it move in and out saying it was the "baby" kicking. When it was time for Andrea to be born, my parents bought me a baby doll and gave it to me at the hospital. I was overjoyed!! I found the whole experience of being a new mom incredibly rewarding! However, at one point I decided that just being gifted with my new baby wasn't enough. I really needed to experience the true meaning of having one. So one day I presented myself in front of my family with one of my dads dress shirts on backwards (like a hospital gown) and commanded attention. I announced that I was in labor and with a loud scream, dropped my baby doll from my thighs in which I had been concealing it and gave birth! I am grateful that at 2 1/2, I did not understand the many other ailments that go along with pregnancy. Can you imagine if I would have started complaining about hemorrhoids or stretch marks? I was an excellent mother. I never withheld anything from my little one, which included proper nourishment. Being that it was 1979, and all the modern day baby formulas that are out now, were not in existence, it was not unusual to see my mother breast feed my sister. Babies are hungry all of the time, and mine was no exception. And one day mine became fitful with hunger in the middle of Catholic mass. Any parent knows that keeping a kid quiet during mass is a challenge in itself. Mine kept me quiet by allowing me to bring my baby. I, in turn, had to keep my baby quiet by feeding it. So, while everyone was getting up for communion, I lifted my Sunday's best shirt and revealed my "mosquito bites" of nipples to the Lord and placed my baby doll on to feed. Needless to say, that was the last time my baby accompanied me to church.
My Pet Bunny
I've always had a fascination with anything medical. As an 11 year old, I did a paper on the human heart and met with a professor at Grand Valley State University who introduced me into the world of human anatomy. I was fascinated with the concept of being able to look inside of someone and see all of the inner workings that makes us a one of a kind. I was sadden to later find out that acquiring human organs just to play with was not very easy or legal. I there for had to resort to the next best thing... animal remains. SIDE NOTE: Please, no one from PETA contact me. I was an 11 year old, curious budding scientist and meant no harm. Besides, you guys are f*#king nuts! Back to my story ... My father fancied himself a farmer although he worked as an engineer in the auto industry. We owned chickens, rabbits, cows and sheep. It was not uncommon for us as children to raise our own rabbits, name them, then kill them in the winter to eat for Sunday dinner. I often found my nose being titillated with the wonderful smells from my mother's kitchen and would ask what was cooking. My mother would reply "your rabbit George of course". But I digress. During one particularly cold spell in the winter, one of the baby bunnies got caught in the outside cage and froze to death. I found the eternally "sleeping" bunny in the morning and decided that it would be my first anatomy specimen. I had not yet purchased the required preservative needed to maintain his sleeping appearance, so I placed him in a Zip-Lock bag and tossed him into the freezer. As a child, not only did I have educational ambitions, but I also had an abnormal sense of humor that some people might construe as morbid. For some reason, when visitors would come over, I thought it would be nice to share my new prize with them. However, I decided to ask the unsuspecting person if they would like to see one of our baby bunnies, instead of the dead rodent I had laying next to the frozen corn and peas. I would carefully place the slumbering icicle in my hands and cradle it very gently. Quietly I would walk toward my innocent victim and tell them to be very still because the bunny was sleeping. I would softly pet the my furry popsicle then ask if they would want to hold it. Upon them opening their hands to accept my precious gift, I would take the bunny and throw it at them. This of course caused quite the commotion! The house would erupt with horrid screams! The only sound that broke up this noise, was that of the "bunnysicle" hitting the floor which sounded like a small baseball bouncing up and down on pavement. After the initial shock had worn off, I would then pick up the rabbit and explain to my shocked audience that it was dead and frozen. I would bang it onto the table to reiterate this point. For some reason, no one ever got a laugh out of this stunt besides me.
Later when I entered college, I still found the study of anatomy intriguing and exciting. I took every human anatomy class and cadaver lab I could. I never gained the traditional "freshman 15", however, when I was in the anatomy lab, I would constantly be hungry playing with the muscles. I ate Subway roast beef sandwiches everyday just to calm my carnivore needs. I still wonder to this day, if that urge to eat meat after seeing human muscle makes me a little bit cannibalistic.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Florida + Friends + Murder = Great Times!
So in my previous entry, I had written about my time with my mom while she was down visiting. It was, like I had mentioned, a lovely, fun time with her where we got to relax and have no drama around us. A week later, I had a few of my best friends come down to visit me. This visit, was the exact opposite of my mom's. Full of drama which included going topless, a stalker, the overuse of cellular phones, sunburn, paparazzi, a parking ticket, a stalker...and what was the other thing? Oh yay, a murder!
My friends Harry and Ashley, whom I have known for 5 years, came down to stay with me for a few days during Harry's spring break from nursing school. So their vacation actually started off relatively normal. We got settled in at my apartment and decided to go to my favorite restaurant...you guessed it, the Anna Maria City Pier. We were treated to the rare encounter of a pelican that seemed to be waiting for take out.
I was trying to tell Ashley this was a great opportunity to get some really great close up pictures, as she is an amazing professional photographer, so slowly she worked her way in. However, a couple, who looked like they had just walked out of their single-wide trailer, were taking pictures of their own. They occupied the entire area!
Notice the lady's animal print rolled up pants and red Crocs. So stylish! We also thought that her back boobs were actually bigger then Ashley front boobs!
Ashley finally did get a few great shots that was until the pelican decided to start chasing her around the deck. I wish I had a pic for this, but I was laughing too hard to hold the camera still. But I digress, so we finally were seated and had a very lovely dinner. I even introduced Harry to the drink Sangria. Now, I know Harry had told me that he hadn't drank since his bachelor party a year and a half ago, but come on my brother...1.5 Sangrias and you are smiling like a kid in a candy store! What a cheap drunk! Here is Harry eating the rest of Ashley's food. Notice the calm look on his face. As most of you know, only alcohol or Ativan will make Harry look this relaxed.
After dinner we headed back and I set my guests up in the "Hotel Lemieux" suite, AKA blow-up beds in the living room.
Whatever...it's free bitches!
On that Sunday I awoke to find the sleepy couple enjoying breakfast on my deck. Little did we know that what was going on around them at the time, would come back to haunt us. Here is a picture from breakfast. The "haunting" will come into play later.
We went down to Sarasota and Siesta Key for the afternoon. Harry was playing photographer. Here are some of his pictures.
One great thing to see if you are driving through the city of Sarasota is the "Unconditional Surrender" Kiss statue which is a sculpture of the famous photograph of a sailor kissing a nurse on V-J Day in New York City, 1945. The artist is J. Seward Johnson. This particular version is 25 feet tall! Here is a darling picture of the "love birds", aka Harry and Ashley, recreating the great statue.
Harry got a little excited and wanted a closer look!
Here is Ashley going "topless"! What a sexy babe!
We ended up having lunch at the Daiquiri Deck. Harry and I felt courageous and decided to try oysters on the half shell! I loved them...Harry, not so much!
Harry was able to get 1 1/3 of them down before giving into their "booger" consistency. He tried cutting them up with a knife and fork which cracked me up!
Side note... When we were at the Daiquiri Deck, both Harry and I ordered a Pina Colada. Harry was asked to produce an ID and when I asked if the waitress needed to see mine, she looked at me and laughed! What the f*#k!
On our way back, Harry found a restaurant that had been named after him.
The next morning Kim and Mitch came down to join us in our spring break fun. We spent the day at Holmes Beach which is 2 miles from my house. I don't usually go to this beach, but Harry wanted to rent an umbrella as to not harm his delicate, soft skin! Especially after he has just started shaving!
Here is Harry, Mitch and Kim enjoying Harry's umbrella. Ashley is all about the sun, and apparently the pose!
Side note...So we all know that we as a culture are addicted to electronics. Who doesn't have a cell phone or will check the internet at least once a day? But when you are at the beach, the last thing you should be doing, is playing on your cell phone! Harry and Mitch's ADD got the best of them, and instead of taking my advice to let us bury them as I wanted to make them mermaids with big boobs, they decided to be constantly on their cell phones! And what is worse, is that they were seeing who's cell phone was the biggest! I distinctly heard the words, "mine is bigger, thicker and blacker"! Really boys? Is this the new way to play "swords"?!
I guess boys will be boys!!!
Later that night we went back to my apartment to get ready for dinner and the "haunting" began. Remember the picture of Harry and Ashley enjoying a sleepy breakfast? While we were out there we noticed some police walking around the complex but didn't really think anything of it. When we were on our way back, we noticed police tape around part of the building next to mine. Our minds started to race. Could it be a robbery, an assault or kidnapping? We didn't know. It surely couldn't be a murder though. Not in my little "slice of Heaven"! Who commits murder when on island time anyway? Here is a picture of the actual crime scene.
(Courtesy of the Bradenton Herald)
I finally did hear from my neighbor, who we will call "creepy stalker guy", *I'll talk about him later* that indeed it was a murder! In the heat of passion, a boyfriend shot and killed his girlfriend while she was hiding in the closet. How sad! Apparently the boyfriend after killing his girlfriend called some friends and asked if he could come by their house and wash off the blood and gunshot residue. At least he cleans up after himself...most guys don't! He did turn himself in the next day, so we didn't have to worry about any further crime in the area. Ashley however wasn't so sure and said she didn't know if she would be able to sleep that night.
Later the next day, Harry in all of his creative genius, got a picture of the crime scene clean up truck. Only Harry would find that interesting!
So that night we went out to the Beach House. A very touristy restaurant, but still has great food and atmosphere. Here are some pictures from that night.
We had a great dinner and besides freezing as we sat out on the beach, really had a great time. Then Kim decided that she and the boys should do a shot to "warm themselves up".
Another side note...I have known Kim for a few years and have always known that Kim has two different sized pupils. So when people really look at her, they always wonder if she has some brain bleed or is stroking out. So add to the fact that she has two different pupil sizes and when you add light, like a flash from a camera, her pupils will really be unequal. Well Ashley and I wanted to remember this moment, so we took like 4 cameras and snapped a shot all at the same time. Talk about paparazzi! The light that was put out by those cameras was like a small super nova exploding! At this time, Harry yelled out, "Now, Kim's eyes are REALLY f*#ked up!" At that moment, those three started laughing so hard they all started crying. Ashley and I had no idea why they were laughing, but we took pictures of them anyway.
They finally did do the shot!
Here is Harry post the shot. What a hottie!
I laughed so hard, it looked like I "lactated" on my napkin!
Side note...Not until 2 days ago did we realize perhaps the food at the Beach House isn't so good. Both Ashley and Mitch became sick about 3 days after eating here. We didn't really think anything of it until I heard from them separatly that after suffering from this sickness for a week, they were diagnosed with most likely having E Coli! I had remembered that both of them ate the Chicken Fettucini that night. So if you can't afford to say vacation to some exotic, 3rd world country like Mexico, come on down to the Beach House on Anna Maria Island in Florida, and you will be treated to the same intestinal infection that you could have picked up there for much cheaper!!
We headed across the street to get ice cream to satisfy Ashley's fetish and when we returned to my Jeep, noticed a man standing by it. Now I thought he was just admiring my awesome ride, but no, he wasn't. He was giving me a ticket! What, a ticket? I yelled at him, "hey, don't give me a ticket!" I ran up to the cop and he told me he was giving me a ticket for parking illegally. I informed him that I did not park there, the valet had parked me there. He told me that I was going to have to take it up with the manager at the Beach House. No problem I said. So, I along with my posse of Mitch and Harry, walked into the restaurant and spoke with the manager. The manager looked and me and said, "oh did you get a parking ticket?" I politley said to her, "no, you did!" The manager looked at me, smiled and stated she would take care of it. While I was in handling this slight bump in our road that night, Kim and Ashley were again playing photographer. Here is a great shot of Kim. I'm not sure what she was doing, but it is funny!
I'm just thankful that the cop was in with me and didn't find the girls enjoying the cop car as scenery!
We finally made it back home and Mitch was tired from the evening so he got into my bed and snuggled up with my stuffed animals. He is so cute and prescious! Later he would find himself sleeping on the floor next to Harry. I heard there was kicking and possibly some more cuddling involved, but we will never know!
The next day we again went to the beach and just relaxed. Well us girls relaxed, the guys, not so much! Here are a few pictures from the 2 days we spent at Holmes Beach.
Mitch, "Hands off the booty!"
Harry is so strong! And notice the hat. Harry forgot to put sunscreen on the top of his nicely shaved noggin and the Florida sun got the best of him. The rest of his vacation, his baby soft skull skin did not see the sun of the day!
Kim got a little carried away with the sunscreen after hearing about Harry's predicament!
Awww, Mitch is my "little white nugget"!
We made it back to my apartment to get ready for our last night together. Tonight I was going to take them to my favorite beach that is great for pictures. I had brought Harry and Ashley to this beach last year, and at the time we were visiting, so was a group for professional models that were having professional topless photos taken for a calendar. Let's just say the boys were really hoping that would be the case for this year. While us girls were getting ready, the boys of course occupied themselves with another ADD surpressant. The internet.
So out to Whitney Beach we went. We all had our creative juices flowing and got some great photos. Here are a few of them.
This picture of us turned out great! We did have to do it like 3 or 4 times with a set mark for jumping and counting to get our rythm right. We are such dorks!
"Charlie's Angels"
Aww...the happily, married couple.
We all love this picture of Mitch. Ashley, the amazing photographer, captured it beautifully!
I love this picture because it is so simple...and then I had to go destroy it by grabbing Harry and Mitch's butts! I'm so classy!
When we got home, Mitch found what the "stalker" had left us while waiting for us to return.
A pile of cigarretts. Eww! Had he been awaiting our return? And why do we call him the "stalker"? Well I don't. He has always been this nice guy that lives behind me and says hi and asks if I have been surfing lately. Everyone else thought he was weird because he seemed to ALWAYS be outside when we were coming and going. So, they nicknamed him the "stalker". I had been holding off on publishing this blog until I could get a picture of him, but have been unable to get one. I was close this morning as I was looking at him through my blinds and almost had the shot. But then I thought, "now who is the stalker?" Here is what he kind of looks like.
Whatever, I'm going to continue to think of him as my nice neighbor as to not freak me out when I'm going to bed!
So that is the end to my blog and our vacation together. Great food (minus the E Coli), great memories (minus the murder and "stalker"), great pictures (minus the one of Mitch cuddled up in my bed with stuffed animals) and great friends (no minus here. I love them all dearly)!
Until next time "Gang"!
My friends Harry and Ashley, whom I have known for 5 years, came down to stay with me for a few days during Harry's spring break from nursing school. So their vacation actually started off relatively normal. We got settled in at my apartment and decided to go to my favorite restaurant...you guessed it, the Anna Maria City Pier. We were treated to the rare encounter of a pelican that seemed to be waiting for take out.
I was trying to tell Ashley this was a great opportunity to get some really great close up pictures, as she is an amazing professional photographer, so slowly she worked her way in. However, a couple, who looked like they had just walked out of their single-wide trailer, were taking pictures of their own. They occupied the entire area!
Notice the lady's animal print rolled up pants and red Crocs. So stylish! We also thought that her back boobs were actually bigger then Ashley front boobs!
Ashley finally did get a few great shots that was until the pelican decided to start chasing her around the deck. I wish I had a pic for this, but I was laughing too hard to hold the camera still. But I digress, so we finally were seated and had a very lovely dinner. I even introduced Harry to the drink Sangria. Now, I know Harry had told me that he hadn't drank since his bachelor party a year and a half ago, but come on my brother...1.5 Sangrias and you are smiling like a kid in a candy store! What a cheap drunk! Here is Harry eating the rest of Ashley's food. Notice the calm look on his face. As most of you know, only alcohol or Ativan will make Harry look this relaxed.
After dinner we headed back and I set my guests up in the "Hotel Lemieux" suite, AKA blow-up beds in the living room.
Whatever...it's free bitches!
On that Sunday I awoke to find the sleepy couple enjoying breakfast on my deck. Little did we know that what was going on around them at the time, would come back to haunt us. Here is a picture from breakfast. The "haunting" will come into play later.
We went down to Sarasota and Siesta Key for the afternoon. Harry was playing photographer. Here are some of his pictures.
One great thing to see if you are driving through the city of Sarasota is the "Unconditional Surrender" Kiss statue which is a sculpture of the famous photograph of a sailor kissing a nurse on V-J Day in New York City, 1945. The artist is J. Seward Johnson. This particular version is 25 feet tall! Here is a darling picture of the "love birds", aka Harry and Ashley, recreating the great statue.
Harry got a little excited and wanted a closer look!
Here is Ashley going "topless"! What a sexy babe!
We ended up having lunch at the Daiquiri Deck. Harry and I felt courageous and decided to try oysters on the half shell! I loved them...Harry, not so much!
Harry was able to get 1 1/3 of them down before giving into their "booger" consistency. He tried cutting them up with a knife and fork which cracked me up!
Side note... When we were at the Daiquiri Deck, both Harry and I ordered a Pina Colada. Harry was asked to produce an ID and when I asked if the waitress needed to see mine, she looked at me and laughed! What the f*#k!
On our way back, Harry found a restaurant that had been named after him.
The next morning Kim and Mitch came down to join us in our spring break fun. We spent the day at Holmes Beach which is 2 miles from my house. I don't usually go to this beach, but Harry wanted to rent an umbrella as to not harm his delicate, soft skin! Especially after he has just started shaving!
Here is Harry, Mitch and Kim enjoying Harry's umbrella. Ashley is all about the sun, and apparently the pose!
Side note...So we all know that we as a culture are addicted to electronics. Who doesn't have a cell phone or will check the internet at least once a day? But when you are at the beach, the last thing you should be doing, is playing on your cell phone! Harry and Mitch's ADD got the best of them, and instead of taking my advice to let us bury them as I wanted to make them mermaids with big boobs, they decided to be constantly on their cell phones! And what is worse, is that they were seeing who's cell phone was the biggest! I distinctly heard the words, "mine is bigger, thicker and blacker"! Really boys? Is this the new way to play "swords"?!
I guess boys will be boys!!!
Later that night we went back to my apartment to get ready for dinner and the "haunting" began. Remember the picture of Harry and Ashley enjoying a sleepy breakfast? While we were out there we noticed some police walking around the complex but didn't really think anything of it. When we were on our way back, we noticed police tape around part of the building next to mine. Our minds started to race. Could it be a robbery, an assault or kidnapping? We didn't know. It surely couldn't be a murder though. Not in my little "slice of Heaven"! Who commits murder when on island time anyway? Here is a picture of the actual crime scene.
(Courtesy of the Bradenton Herald)
I finally did hear from my neighbor, who we will call "creepy stalker guy", *I'll talk about him later* that indeed it was a murder! In the heat of passion, a boyfriend shot and killed his girlfriend while she was hiding in the closet. How sad! Apparently the boyfriend after killing his girlfriend called some friends and asked if he could come by their house and wash off the blood and gunshot residue. At least he cleans up after himself...most guys don't! He did turn himself in the next day, so we didn't have to worry about any further crime in the area. Ashley however wasn't so sure and said she didn't know if she would be able to sleep that night.
Later the next day, Harry in all of his creative genius, got a picture of the crime scene clean up truck. Only Harry would find that interesting!
So that night we went out to the Beach House. A very touristy restaurant, but still has great food and atmosphere. Here are some pictures from that night.
We had a great dinner and besides freezing as we sat out on the beach, really had a great time. Then Kim decided that she and the boys should do a shot to "warm themselves up".
Another side note...I have known Kim for a few years and have always known that Kim has two different sized pupils. So when people really look at her, they always wonder if she has some brain bleed or is stroking out. So add to the fact that she has two different pupil sizes and when you add light, like a flash from a camera, her pupils will really be unequal. Well Ashley and I wanted to remember this moment, so we took like 4 cameras and snapped a shot all at the same time. Talk about paparazzi! The light that was put out by those cameras was like a small super nova exploding! At this time, Harry yelled out, "Now, Kim's eyes are REALLY f*#ked up!" At that moment, those three started laughing so hard they all started crying. Ashley and I had no idea why they were laughing, but we took pictures of them anyway.
They finally did do the shot!
Here is Harry post the shot. What a hottie!
I laughed so hard, it looked like I "lactated" on my napkin!
Side note...Not until 2 days ago did we realize perhaps the food at the Beach House isn't so good. Both Ashley and Mitch became sick about 3 days after eating here. We didn't really think anything of it until I heard from them separatly that after suffering from this sickness for a week, they were diagnosed with most likely having E Coli! I had remembered that both of them ate the Chicken Fettucini that night. So if you can't afford to say vacation to some exotic, 3rd world country like Mexico, come on down to the Beach House on Anna Maria Island in Florida, and you will be treated to the same intestinal infection that you could have picked up there for much cheaper!!
We headed across the street to get ice cream to satisfy Ashley's fetish and when we returned to my Jeep, noticed a man standing by it. Now I thought he was just admiring my awesome ride, but no, he wasn't. He was giving me a ticket! What, a ticket? I yelled at him, "hey, don't give me a ticket!" I ran up to the cop and he told me he was giving me a ticket for parking illegally. I informed him that I did not park there, the valet had parked me there. He told me that I was going to have to take it up with the manager at the Beach House. No problem I said. So, I along with my posse of Mitch and Harry, walked into the restaurant and spoke with the manager. The manager looked and me and said, "oh did you get a parking ticket?" I politley said to her, "no, you did!" The manager looked at me, smiled and stated she would take care of it. While I was in handling this slight bump in our road that night, Kim and Ashley were again playing photographer. Here is a great shot of Kim. I'm not sure what she was doing, but it is funny!
I'm just thankful that the cop was in with me and didn't find the girls enjoying the cop car as scenery!
We finally made it back home and Mitch was tired from the evening so he got into my bed and snuggled up with my stuffed animals. He is so cute and prescious! Later he would find himself sleeping on the floor next to Harry. I heard there was kicking and possibly some more cuddling involved, but we will never know!
The next day we again went to the beach and just relaxed. Well us girls relaxed, the guys, not so much! Here are a few pictures from the 2 days we spent at Holmes Beach.
Mitch, "Hands off the booty!"
Harry is so strong! And notice the hat. Harry forgot to put sunscreen on the top of his nicely shaved noggin and the Florida sun got the best of him. The rest of his vacation, his baby soft skull skin did not see the sun of the day!
Kim got a little carried away with the sunscreen after hearing about Harry's predicament!
Awww, Mitch is my "little white nugget"!
We made it back to my apartment to get ready for our last night together. Tonight I was going to take them to my favorite beach that is great for pictures. I had brought Harry and Ashley to this beach last year, and at the time we were visiting, so was a group for professional models that were having professional topless photos taken for a calendar. Let's just say the boys were really hoping that would be the case for this year. While us girls were getting ready, the boys of course occupied themselves with another ADD surpressant. The internet.
So out to Whitney Beach we went. We all had our creative juices flowing and got some great photos. Here are a few of them.
This picture of us turned out great! We did have to do it like 3 or 4 times with a set mark for jumping and counting to get our rythm right. We are such dorks!
"Charlie's Angels"
Aww...the happily, married couple.
We all love this picture of Mitch. Ashley, the amazing photographer, captured it beautifully!
I love this picture because it is so simple...and then I had to go destroy it by grabbing Harry and Mitch's butts! I'm so classy!
When we got home, Mitch found what the "stalker" had left us while waiting for us to return.
A pile of cigarretts. Eww! Had he been awaiting our return? And why do we call him the "stalker"? Well I don't. He has always been this nice guy that lives behind me and says hi and asks if I have been surfing lately. Everyone else thought he was weird because he seemed to ALWAYS be outside when we were coming and going. So, they nicknamed him the "stalker". I had been holding off on publishing this blog until I could get a picture of him, but have been unable to get one. I was close this morning as I was looking at him through my blinds and almost had the shot. But then I thought, "now who is the stalker?" Here is what he kind of looks like.
Whatever, I'm going to continue to think of him as my nice neighbor as to not freak me out when I'm going to bed!
So that is the end to my blog and our vacation together. Great food (minus the E Coli), great memories (minus the murder and "stalker"), great pictures (minus the one of Mitch cuddled up in my bed with stuffed animals) and great friends (no minus here. I love them all dearly)!
Until next time "Gang"!
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Top 10 reasons to date a Paramedic
10) We are used to staying up all night
9) We are good with multiple partners
8) We are experts in mouth to mouth
7) We are the best in rapid clothing removal
6) We have our own multi-positional bed
5) We shock the socks off you
4) We always come when we are called
3) We are prepared for any rhythm
2) We are familiar with Latex and restraints
And the ..1 reason to date a Paramedic...
1) Anytime, anywhere, anyway you need us!
9) We are good with multiple partners
8) We are experts in mouth to mouth
7) We are the best in rapid clothing removal
6) We have our own multi-positional bed
5) We shock the socks off you
4) We always come when we are called
3) We are prepared for any rhythm
2) We are familiar with Latex and restraints
And the ..1 reason to date a Paramedic...
1) Anytime, anywhere, anyway you need us!
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