Puff Puff, Pass.

If this chicken has been sitting at her desk contemplating the celebration of 4/20 and how wonderful it sounds, then it's been a really rough day.

First of all, I have PMS.  I'm generally in a cranky mood and my nerves?  I have none.  Don't mess with me.

Second, I have been dealing with idiots who don't want to do their job.  They are supposed to be providing ME customer service and providing me a product.  The correct product.  I shouldn't have to track down said product, then call said idiot, so he can order it for me.  This is ridiculous.

Third, I hit my head on the paper towel dispenser in the office bathroom.  That just sent me over the damn edge.

Sooooo...this is the dilemma:
Do I celebrate 4/20 by smoking a big, fat bowl of chronic (for the first time in years) or do I celebrate the anniversary of Columbine (which also happened on April 20) and just start shooting?  Decisions decisions...
Tasteless joke?  Yes.  Again...don't mess with me.

Ok, you got me. I won't do either.  I'll go home, eat fish tacos (and I mean actual fish tacos...not pussy), go Zumba at 24 Hr Fitness, maybe drink a beer, and my boyfriend who can do amazing things with his hands and mouth will give me at least one orgasm.  I suppose my ideas of what relaxes me have shifted.  We all can't be Snoop and Willie.

Hmmmm...THAT explains a lot.

I have determined tonight that I cannot watch porn and cook dinner at the same time.  I think that's going to be my new saying.  Like when people say, "I can't walk and chew gum at the same time".
"My goodness she gets distracted."
"Yeah...I don't think she could watch porn and cook at the same time!"  
So, how was I able to come to this conclusion, do you ask? Well...it's very simple really.  I was watching porn and trying to broil some veggie burgers. DUH.

Actually, it went a little something like this:
Last night, Mike and I were sitting at my kitchen table. The subject of porn came up while we were talking about the video on Tosh.0, appropriately named Stripper Soaker. He found it gross and I will admit, the only thing I thought of when I saw the video was that I wanted to see it without the body parts blacked out. (And wondered how she did that of course)  He told me that the first pornographic movie he ever saw was pretty graphic (there were fists involved).  So in turn I, not so reluctantly, confessed that I had watched my first porn when I was at the ripe old age of 11 or 12.  One that I found hidden in a box in a closet (thanks dad).  I was not disturbed at all.  I was quite intrigued.  I watched the whole thing and got my first ever feeling of: oh my god. why am I watching this? I can't look away. holy crap I hope someone doesn't walk in on me while this is on!  
I still remember the damn video.  It was from the 70's.  There was a lady that kept her freakin' neck scarf on while she did the nasty.  And she did the nasty with several men, including the standard black man with an afro and...her "niece".  There was not a lot of waxing that went on and all the boobs were real.  There was even some naked hot tubbing.  I googled today in an effort to make sure I had the name right and come to find out, this just wasn't some chick that kept her scarf on.  She was famous!  So...yeah.  I actually did find the video that I watched several times over the course of my pre-teen/teen years. And I watched it again, 20 years later. And I got entirely distracted, then burnt my veggie burgers.
Mike says that it explains a lot about some things.  I don't know what he's talking about.  I thought all women had an insane infatuation for men with mustaches, hairy chests, naked hot tubbing, and...fudgesicles.

What Can I Say? I'm Enthusiastic.

So, I just got an email from Mike.  Evidently, I left one hell of a bruise on his neck Sunday night and he got a "talking to" at work today.

Oops. Sorry, sweetheart. LOL

"Strong women leave big hickies." ~Madonna

It Must Be Friday.

FIRST Friday.  I went by myself last night in an effort to just spend some time with myself and wander around.  I started the night, though, at my office's monthly karaoke party, which honestly turned out to be a huge mistake.  I left karaoke about an hour and a half after I should have, leaving me stuck in traffic and desperately looking for a place to park downtown when I finally got to the festival.
I did rock two songs from my standard repertoire at karaoke (Joan Jett - "I Love Rock and Roll" and Blondie - "One Way or Another"), but really...I ended up not giving myself enough time where I really wanted it and I am a little disappointed.

Anyway....
I was lucky enough to find a parking spot (not anywhere NEAR my usual place).  I walked over to the Arts Factory first.  I wanted to stop in to see an artist whose work has recently caught my eye (it's very dark and much more powerful in person than online. the characters literally seem to be staring at you wanting your soul. slightly un-nerving) and to use the bathroom...porta-potties are scary and the Arts Factory has actual toilets to use.  I was minding my own business, waiting for the crosswalk sign to change, when I hear: "Hey! Southern Belle."  He introduced himself as JR and as soon as I said "Yes", when he asked me if I was there alone, I regretted it.  He offered to buy me a drink and I declined, saying that I was just there for the ladies' room.  He laughed at me and said that he would see me around and that I needed to stop and see his friend who was playing the guitar around the corner.  I didn't plan on it, seeing as though I am not much into ghetto fabulous with gold chains, smooth come-ons, and bling.  "Oh shit" was what I mouthed when I spotted them on the sidewalk on my way into the heart of crowd...but I saw them too late.  There was no avoiding it. "This one is entitled Southern Belle! Just for you!".  JR was laying it on thick.  I told him I had a man and that I wasn't giving him my number. Regardless of JR's lack of tact, his friend was talented.  I was willing to put up with JR to listen to his music for a minute.  He had CDs on sale for $2, which really is a steal, considering I can't get a good coffee for that price.  He assured me it was enjoyable...just acoustic guitar that he composed himself...no singing, no screaming, no rock n roll...just light, chill music.  I got one.  I listened to it at home later last night with a beer while I was going through some pictures.  It was everything he promised.
Mike had told me about a booth that he had come across with a guy that illustrates these cards with sarcastic, hilarious cartoons on them.  I fell in love with them.  I picked up a couple for Mike, then headed over to Cornerstone Gallery to see my friends' artwork.  It was a circus theme.  Here are some examples of the amazing work they did.

This one was my favorite.

This was so creative. My friends from Red Handed Tattoo Gallery.

I didn't get pictures of them all.  There were a few others that I really liked and am thinking of purchasing.  I hung out with a few friends for a bit outside the gallery.  I had to get home at a decent time to relieve my mother of her babysitting duties, so sticking around and going downtown when I was invited was out of the question.  I really wish I had had more time to walk around and enjoy myself without the constraint of a schedule.  Maybe another time. I really did enjoy my night alone, though, and relaxing with a beer, the windows open, and some guitar was the perfect ending.

Tonight, the kids and I are going to a BBQ.  It's that time of year again...beer, good food, friends, and jacuzzi!  I can't wait.  It seems like forever since I've just kicked back with friends and enjoyed an evening together.