Your Girlfriend is Ugly

merrrrrMONDAYmerrrrrrrr

It's so OBVIOUS to hate Monday's but I gotta jump on the bandwagon here folks. I really do. And especially today. It is such a crap stain of a day. I woke up this morning and as I peeled back my new window drapings (white and lacy, so cute) I could see the pigeon gray sky outside basically allowing me to get back into bed.

"KISS 108 THIS IS LISA. WEATHER OUTSIDE IS RAINY WITH A HIGH OF 40 DEGREES."

Oh barf nasty.

After a few swats of the snooze button I finally emerged from my pillowy deliciousness of a bed at 8:17am.

Only nine more hours until I'll be back at my house.

I messaged my boss to let her know I'd be running late due to an inability to function and she responded that it was "OK" since she'd be in New York. Nice. I'll be donning sweat pants today thankyouverymuch.

I arrived at work in my cutest work out chic sweat pants and Nantucket hoodie and prepared to attack my power point presentation that was due on Thursday....but first, a trip to 7-Eleven.

I stocked up on milk, OJ and water for the week. The nice guy at the front counter alerted me to the fact that Poland Spring 1 liter bottles were on sale 2 for $2. Oh HOLLER! I don't know when 7-eleven started having sales but this was fabulous!

Back in my office I prepared to knock out my power point presentation.

"Hey Lisa, it's Christine. So FYI, the presentations have been pushed back one month so we're going to present beginning of June."

This day just might turn out to be the best one yet!

Ugh. I really want to go home.

I stared out the drive through window of my office and thought about my birthday party taking place this weekend. I'll be the big 2-7 on Sunday the 4th and we're going out to celebrate on the 3rd. I decided to go bowling because it's active and I want my friends to be moving and shaking. I feel that when I'm out in a group everyone just sits around and waits for me to say something funny and I can't handle that type of pressure on the day that I entered the world.

I had a thought and called HLP, "Um. I should probably see if there is a game on Saturday night."

"Let me look!"

Our plans were to go to Jillian's in Landsdowne. AKA total and utter shit show when the Red Sox are playing.

"It is a night game at 7:05 and they are playing at home."

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH! I'm not dealing with the 21 year old BU crowds on my birthday. HLP began to look up bowling places in Boston and up popped Milky Way in JP.

Why did I know this name? Oooooh it's the place that JHill was telling me about this. At first when she told me I thought to myself, "Um..JP? It's so faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar..."

But the farther away from downtown the better!

"OMG! LISA OMG! TONIGHT IS EXTREME BINGO!!! AND IT'S FREE AFTER 9PM!!!"

"Fun."

"We should totally go sometime!"

I thought about my plans for this evening: curling up in front of my DVR, ignoring my laundry and eating chocolate seltzer cake with reduced fat chocolate frosting.

Seltzer cake.

Extreme bingo.

Seltzer cake.

Being single and having fun in the city.

Seltzer cake.......

"Do you want to go tonight HLP?"

"Um OK!!"

"But I am eating dinner at my apartment. I have chili that I unfroze with the intention of eating it tonight."

"Oh no problem. I totally understand."

"See you at your apartment at 8."

"Ok!"

And that is how a crap stain day turns into a night with plans!

p.s..I've had the BIGGEST hankering for some Starbursts like all day. I found a rogue orange one in my purse and now I can't fight the urge.

Mother to God...

No. No no no no no no no no noooooooooooooooooo!!!!!

What I am about to tell you is so heinous, so.....so blasphemous. I'm not even sure you can handle it. This information is not for the faint of heart so if you have high blood pressure or are prone to dizzy spells I suggest you click out of YGIU this instant. (Not before passing along my website to all of your friends of course.)

God. It pains me to even form the words to tell the story.

I headed to South Shore Plaza this evening to do some returns. I had to return a mascara at Macy's and a shirt at The Limited, which is now apparantly my new favorite store. Anyway I walked in and did a loop. I was perusing the cute striped halter tops (I had just read in Allure that they are tres flatering), when I turned around and was met with the site below:

Honestly. Brace yourself. (insert swallowing back of bile here)

The body suit (eeeeeek! GAAAAAAAAAAAAH MY EYES!!!!!!!!! WAR OF THE WORLDS WAR OF THE WOOOOOOOOOORLDSSSSS!!!!!)

First leggings (which I admit, I succumbed to. But after like two years!) then ankle booties. NOW the body suit?! Helloooooooooo 1994 called they want it back!

I used to sport these in 8th grade. My BFFs 4-eva 'n life Britt and Brooke (twins) and I used to parade around the halls of Norton Middle School rocking these atrocities. I mean, at the time they were cool! You wore them with your Lee jeans (pegged, naturally) and your suede purple or teal Adidas Gazelles.

What in the name of Gerard Butler's quads in 300 is The Limited thinking?!?!?!!?!?!?

I actually gasped when I saw it.

"Ma'am?"

I turned and there was an eleven year old looking sale associate staring at me. A look of concern on her face.

"Uhhmmm...er....The Bodysuit huh?"

"Yeah! We just got them in! They are sooooooooooooo cute!"

I whipped my head around so fast, I think I pulled a vertabrae.

"Cute?!" I spat, "How do you mean Cute?!"

"I can't wait to get one?"

My eyes bugged out of my head "Get one? I used to wear these in Middle School! These are not cute!"

"Oh...um well I just graduated highschool so....."

Oh dear God. What's next? The return of the scrunchi???

I'm so calling it now.

Green with worry.

Still exhilarated from my night of shopping at the Shecky's Ladies Night Out event in the South End, I returned home and decided to plop down with my sister to watch An Inconvenient Truth. Erm...it made me nervous.

I know, I know, I myself do not recycle or currently use eco-friendly light bulbs. But the facts put on the table by former Vice President Al Gore kind of rattled me.

Um Lisa, have you been living under a rock?

Not that I'm aware of but I will admit that I did fall into that majority of American's who either thought a.) Global Warming is already in the works. Nothing I can do about it now or b.) it won't affect me.

I have officially considered myself affected after seeing this documentary.

I know I am a person who makes hasty decisions. My reaction to act after seeing this movie reminds me of when I came back from Bible camp for the first time (I know, but it was actually pretty fun). As soon as I got home and unpacked my bags I sat my mother, father and sister down and asked them if they had accepted Jesus Christ into their life. I was on a Bible Thumping war path for the first month I was back. I listened to Christian Rock and attended Youth Group.

I quickly forgot all of my Bible Camp morals a few months later when I went to one of my first teenage "boy/girl" parties.

But that was Bible Camp. I admire those that depend on prayer, don't get me wrong. But I don't think that the Big Guy is going to help us with this crisis.

I don't want to say anymore because I don't want to sway anyone's opinion. But just watch the movie or check out www.climatecrisis.net

xoxoxo

Back off.

I am in a bad mood. NO. I am in a rancid mood. I foresee myself not able to write anything hilariously blog worthy today and I just wanted everyone to know why. Because I am in a bad mood.

Work sucks.
Sprint sucks.
The croutons in my salad suck because they are stale.
My desk sucks because it banged into my knee
This fragrance I sprayed on me sucks and is giving me a headache. (Sorry to all those involved who developed it)
The ringer for my boss's phone sucks. (And she never carries it on her and always leaves it in the design room so we are forced to listen to it day in and out).

Add to that 100+ degree weather and I'm a bad after school special waiting to happen.

And yes, I am aware that there is a war in the Middle East and my issues probably sound trivial. This fact is not lost on me. This is why I'm allowing myself fifteen minutes of a pity party and then I'll go in the back, get a bag of plain M&M's and be OK with myself.

Just don't come to me asking me any stupid questions. That thing that they taught you in school that "No question is stupid" is wrong. If you say to yourself, "This may be a stupid question but..." just stop. Because it most likely is just that.

Bugged Out

Two nights ago I was lying in bed leisurly flossing my teeth. Being the oral hygiene freak and "cavity-phobe" that I am, I make sure to get everything out. Even if this means using half of the floss in one sitting.

So, perched on my bed, watching "Six Feet Under", I was deftly getting the goop out from between my Lateral Incisor and Canine, when I heard it.

*Tap* *Tap* Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz *Tap* *Tap* *taptaptaptap* Bzzzzzz....

This is the familiar yet petrifying sound of a bug flying around,  hitting my ceiling trying to look for a way to get the eff out before getting squished.

It has to be said that I hate bugs. From ants, to beetles to spiders (big ones) to crickets, bugs scare the shit out of me. And yes, there is a story behind it.

I was about eight. It was super hot out and I was downstairs in our living room. I had just secured the last cherry popsicle. This being a feat in and of itself because my older sister would always snag them before I could, leaving me to suck on Grape or Orange. But not this time! HAR!! I got the last Cherry one. And it was one of those popsicles that had the double sticks. So you could actually break it in half and have two popsicles if you were feeling generous. Which I never was.

So I was downstairs trying to cool off. I was lounging on our love seat, probably watching Gem and the Holograms or The Puffalumps; one hand over the side of the chair, the other holding tightly to my yummy popsicle. It came time to move the wrapper down, so I could have better access to my frosty treat. As I languidly brought my hand up to the wrapper, crawling up my arm was a June Bug the size of a Buick.

I shrieked, flung the bug off and for some strange reason chucked my popsicle across the room. I didn't know what to do! I remained in the chair, in the fetal position until my dad came in.

"What is wrong?!?!!?!?!?!" My dad looked around wildly, surveying the damage: A huge June Bug scuttling along and a cherry red popsicle dripping onto the VHS of Flight of the Navigator (one of my favorite movies!!!).

"DAD! THERE'S A REALLY BIG BUG THAT WAS CRAWLING ON ME!!!"

My dad simply trapped the bug under a cup and brought it outside. I don't know what came of the bug but I'm hoping it's fate involved the underside of my dad's Timberland.

And to this day, I still freeze when there is a bug about. I know it's not going to hurt me, or morph into some sort of 800 pound beast. I just don't know what it is. I see bugs and I think of the time when I was eight and one was weaving it's way up my left arm.

My fear of creepy crawlers is so profound, that two years ago, I made plans to go see my best friend in Baltimore. The ticket was booked, plans were made, happy hours were mapped out. She called me about 3 weeks before I was scheduled to be there and goes "You'll never guess!! This is the year of the Cicada!!!"

"The what?"

"The Cicada!!! They only come up every seventeen years!!!!"

All I could think to myself was, what in the hell is a Cicada and why is she so excited about it?

Long story short, Cicadas are bugs that only emerge every seventeen years. The female lays her eggs and blah blah blah. They are loud and gross looking and I was canceling my trip.

"Jen," I said, "I can't deal with that. I cannot be walking down the street with bugs falling out of the sky."

An image of me holding an umbrella to shield myself as Cicada's showered down on me popped into my head.

As it turned out, I was visiting at the very end of the Cicada season and when I arrived in Baltimore, there was (thankfully) not a Cicada to be found.

So now back to present day, in my room, a strange arthropod buzzing around and floss hanging out of my teeth. I sat there staring, flinching every time it made a dip from crashing into the ceiling. Finally it swooped over near my closet.

Like a Gazelle, I grabbed an old Vogue (the one with Keira Knightley on the cover, so it was OK) and hopped onto my bed. I tracked the bug like a PUMA tracks it's prey. Teetering on the edge of my bed, I swatted at the bug. *DAMN!* MISSED! I tightened my grip on the Vogue: wait for it.....wait for it!!!

**THWAP!!!**

Har! Victory!!! (insert pumping of fists here) I looked down to see the carnage, but, what is this? No bug to be found. I peered up at the ceiling and there, in two halves is the mystery bug, in all of it's exoskeleton, segmented body glory.

Ew.

So now, I have a bug corpse hanging from my ceiling. Added to the list of things that give me the heeby jeebies is the strange crunching sensation that occurs when you smoosh a bug in a napkin, paper towel or tissue. I would rather have a dismembered bug hanging from my ceiling then deal with that. I am simply waiting until it dries up and falls to my carpet where I can vacuum it up with all of the other anonymous things that accumulate on my floor.