I can feel my bra tightening.

Not in the good way (as in, I’ve gone up a cup size). More like I’m going up a belt size. As I write this, there is a Corona “Light” in my hand with a slice of lime in it. That would be my fruit intake for the day.

Drinking is becoming, sadly, the thing I turn to out of boredom. I am a full time helicopter buyer, part time alcoholic. 

Me, stuffing my Gorilla-face

This is probably not the best move made tonight given that I have just purchased 2 new bikinis in preparation for a family vacation in the British Virgin Islands that starts on Friday. If anything, I should be going for a run- straight to Sono Bello for a last minute tummy tuck. I suppose it still doesn’t matter too much though- with the way I’ve let my eyebrows and other bodily hair grow freely, I will soon be more closely resembling an 800 lb gorilla than a 24 year old human.

The Caribbean vacation is not a cruise. It is my family of 5 and my godparents (bringing the total number of people up to 7) who are renting a 40 ft catamaran and chartering it around the islands themselves. 

My Dad.

Here are some interesting facts to take into consideration:

• ·         None of us has ever been to the Caribbean.
• ·         More than half of us have never been on a catamaran.
• ·         My dad knows about sailing, but he has a Cal 20 racing boat, not a 40 foot Cat. And the Cal took a beating last year in the Columbia river when the mast inexplicably split in two, causing everyone to evacuate and having to get the boat towed to shore. This is basically going to be Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer chartering a Carnival Cruise ship through tropical islands they’ve never been to.

I guess we’re as prepared as we can be, though. With my mom on board, we’re bound to have the most over-planned, efficient vacation ever!

Last week she prepared by researching all the drinks one could make with rum. Unsurprisingly, it primarily involves coconut and pineapple juice. 

Paradise!

“Look what I did today! And I have it divided into blended drinks and on-the-rocks style. Because I’m not sure if we’re going to have access to a blender or not.” It was a laminated brochure of rum-based drinks. 

 Shortly after that, she emailed all the people in our party with a typed up menu of food she thought we would be eating at each meal for the 10 days we’re gone. 

I feel prepared- I have 2 swimsuits, a light cotton skirt, and a bikini wax scheduled tomorrow. My godfather is bringing ipod speakers, I plan to buy some magazines and dive into my Tina Fey book. I think my mom has everything else more than under control.

The Birthday Post

Well, today’s the day. Big birthday number 24. One foot in the grave. The last year that I can have ONE box of standard birthday candles on my cake where each represents ONE year. 

I spent the day trying to feel younger, or at least imagine I grow up to be as eternally youthful as Heidi Klum, who shares my birthday.

Fortunately, I live at home, which makes feeling younger much easier. Nothing makes you feel more like a child than having your mom pack your lunch in the morning, and my mom does! Around 10 am at work I went to the refrigerator to find a snack and when I opened my lunchbox, I found a little surprise. 

It was one of those foil-wrapped balloon weights that are usually popular at New Year’s parties. I wasn’t really sure what to do with it- no one at work had particularly acknowledged that it was my birthday. It seemed kind of silly to take my balloon weight (with no balloons) out of my lunchbox and set it on my desk for no particular reason. So I put it back in the refrigerator, which seemed like the only logical choice.

Foil-wrapped balloon weight

Later that evening I met up with my girlfriends at a restaurant downtown, enticed by the promise of party hats, which we all wore. People at the restaurant looked at us strangely, but let it go.

If there is one thing I love, it’s party hats. I can’t think of one thing that doesn’t look hilarious in one. Last year my ex-boyfriend texted me a picture of a dog in a party hat for my birthday. This year he sent me one of two chinchillas in party hats. I will say this for him: he definitely knows me well!

 One of my good friends got me a “Spinster Starter Kit” which included a bottle of wine shaped like a cat, a package of Easy-Mac, the fourth season of 30 Rock, and the latest book by Tina Fey. (Liz Lemon IS my idol.) I don’t think I could have asked for more! It was a great birthday.

Reality Check

In retrospect- thinking about the total snobbishness of my last post- maybe I should take whatever I can get?

A realistic evaluation of myself this morning is this: outside of the house I am house-sitting for, wearing my pajamas (which I have been wearing for 2 days straight) and practicing looking cool while smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. Newflash to myself: Unless you are Audrey Hepburn, you will not be making a cigarette look cool. You have not showered yet today. You ate a plate of microwaved bacon for breakfast and drank an entire pot of day-old coffee. Your next big step today is probably going to be washing dishes and watching the remainder of the second season of How I Met Your Mother on DVD. You have spent the last two days as a total recluse, and your primary conversations have been with 2 cats.

Yeah… maybe I should go do something. I am definitely not the prize at this particular moment. I wouldn’t date me, for sure!

Things I could do today:

1. Clean up the house I am house-sitting for. It’s my last day of freedom before I return to living at home with my parents.

2. Definitely brush my teeth (Why did I think cigarettes were a good idea? Gross!)

3. Apply to some new jobs. (I did apply to one this morning, but a few more can’t hurt)

4. Visit a cemetery with some flowers (it IS memorial day, after all)

5. Try to cook something with nutrients in it.

6. Go for a run

7. Call up some of my friends and see if anyone is free to do something (see a movie, go bowling, hang out downtown, join me on my run, etc)

There we go. Now we have goals again!

Dating Standards

Not to sound conceited, but sometimes being hit on is not flattering to the recipient. This is mainly because if someone thinks you’re hot, but some Law of Fairness, they also assume you’re stupid and insecure, and they treat you accordingly.

Exhibit A: One of my ex-boyfriend’s older brother’s friends used to send me messages on Facebook shortly after that boyfriend and I broke up. At the time, I thought cockiness was kind of cute and meant the guy was interested- plus I was vulnerable. That boyfriend later told me that the friend just thought I was hot and wanted to hook up with me.

This guy used to talk to me about a year ago and then communication dropped off the face of the earth. I figured that was fine- we didn’t know each other and I had met someone else, etc. 

On Friday I get the first message I get in a year:

“Ptown. What are you up to this weekend?”

I was responded somewhat coolly “I have some tentative plans. Is anything cool going on?” I haven’t talked to this person in a year AND I’ve never met him in person. WTF do you mean “What are you doing?” My regular life, dude. You’re not a part of it.

His response to mine: “Well, I will be in Portland, so basically everything is cool. My brother is having a BBQ- want me to keep you in the loop?”

My thoughts on this were “Do I want you to keep me in the loop? You are chasing me! I am the prize, bitch! I got hit on by two guys at Walgreens today when I was buying vaginal anti-fungal and birth control- the most un-sexy pharmaceutical combination of all time. So, if I gave a crap what you were up to for the past year, I probably would have called, and vice versa. You clearly don’t care about me and I don’t want to be your f-buddy. If I wanted to get laid, I would be getting laid. If I wanted to hang out with an overgrown frat boy a decade older than me who thinks he’s all that, I would have stayed with my ex. So, no, Toolbox- I do NOT want to go to your BBQ.”

I responded “If you want to. I’ll probably be hanging out with my girls though.” Maybe I am irrationally offended, but seriously. What girl would REALLY feel like it’s a privilege to be hanging out with some guy who only calls to hook up when he’s in town? Get over yourself. I have self-esteem! And in any case, I have a new list of standards about dating.

No addicts, alcoholics, abusers, psych cases, dead-beats, arrogance issues, clinginess issues, family problems, emotionally unavailable, financial instability, losers, creepers, anarchists, pedophiles, closet-gays, trust issues, liars, married-men, guys with kids, stalkers, polygamists, cheaters, smokers, short guys, gangsters, wanksters, or mamma’s-boys need apply.

I do not think this mission should be impossible.

House Sitting So Far

Since I’ve been living at home for a while now, I find that I often miss having personal space. I never get to spend any time naked or listening to loud music or watching TV shows I like- we don’t even have cable. So naturally, when close family friends told us they were going on a trip to Maine for 2 weeks and needed a house-sitter, I was thrilled. Between the 18^th and the 31^st, it would just be me, their 2 cats, and an entire house to ourselves. It would be like a vacation while still being in town!

So far, house-sitting has not been as picturesque as I imagined.

Day 1: I went over to the house after work to let the cats out and unpack my things. I took some time making myself comfortable in the guest room in the basement and left the back door open a crack so that the cats could come in when they were ready to. 

 

However, as the sun went down, only the orange cat returned. 

I spent the next 3 hours panicking about how I had already lost my friend’s cat. I periodically walked outside and yelled the cat’s name and whistled. This probably would have worked better if A. The cat knew its name, B. The cat cared, and C. The cat was actually a dog. Being as it was the BLACK cat who decided to go missing at night, I couldn’t have seen it even if it had been around. I ended up leaving the door cracked a bit overnight so that it could come in, and slept fitfully dreaming of it being eaten by coyotes or something awful.

In the meantime, the orange cat tried to eat my hair in my sleep and pawed at my face all night. I woke up next to a puddle of cat urine on the bed. I ended up having to start a load of laundry at 6 am and open a window in the basement to air it out. The black cat had let himself back in during the night, so at least I could stop worrying about that.

Day 2 (aka last night): I ended up moving all of my things out of the basement guest room and upstairs to my friend’s bedroom. I was able to find both cats that night (before it was dark) and put them in the basement. I slept soundly with no worries of missing cats or being batted in the face.

Feeling that things were taking a turn for the better this morning, I got out of bed, took off my clothes and headed to the shower, but then remembered that I had left both cats locked in the basement and decided to let them out first. Then, since I was already down there (and still fully enjoying some peaceful naked time) I put out the catfood and decided to clean the litter box. The litter box is located next to the door that leads to the garage, where there is a conveniently located trash can outside, so I stepped out onto the garage steps with a bag of kitty litter and let the door shut behind me.

At this point, I am locked out of my friend’s house at 5:30 am, completely naked, and holding a bag of kitty litter. And I have to be at work at 7 am.

I spent a little time cursing and looking around the garage for a spare or a phone- I figured I could at least call in sick to work (or call my mom and try to explain what I’m doing outside naked at the crack of dawn) but I couldn’t find either one. I began contemplating the possibilities of turning the grill cover into a toga and the awkwardness of meeting the neighbors under these circumstances, should I end up having to get others involved.

Then I remembered- the basement window! A silver lining to the cat peeing on the bed was that the window was still open a crack! I ran outside to my friend’s backyard, still fully naked, and fully grateful that it was May and not that cold. I had to move some heavy iron patio furniture and yank a screen off the window, but I managed to break in. 

I climbed naked through the basement window into the guest room and looked at the clock. 5:45 am. I was still going to make it to work even though I had practically just re-lived a scene from American Pie!

With the way things are going,  my goal is to not burn the house down in the 2 weeks they’re gone.

Dental Conspiracy?

I’m always a little skeptical of the dentist. I used to go to a nice guy who was pretty gentle when I was on my parents’ insurance, but now that I have my own insurance, I have to see someone else that I can afford. She’s also a nice person, I guess, but every time I’ve gone in to see her, I’ve had a minimum of 2 cavities.

I’ve never had a cavity until I was 15- now I’ve had like 6.

My skepticism comes from this: How do I know if I really need to get a filling? My teeth feel normal, everything looks fine to the untrained eye, and I am a freak about dental hygiene… I am completely reliant on the dentist to tell me if I need one and I always go with her recommendation. The good news is I’ll be out of teeth for her to fill pretty soon and we’ll just have to start having standard cleanings again. I’m starting to think that she’s just “finding” them to punish me for making appointments at 5 pm.

Standard cleanings are also worst than I remember though, and I think this may be because my new dentist is one I would classify as an “aggressive cleaner.” Her methods for extracting tartar build up are probably the same methods used by archaeologists in excavating dinosaur bones. Enamel comes off.

After she was done flossing and notifying me of all the fun we’ll be having in our next appointment (2 cavities and 2 that COULD become a problem) her hygienist came in to take care of the routine stuff.

“Is mint toothpaste okay with you?”

(I was unaware that there were any other flavors of toothpaste available besides mint.)

“I’ll take whatever you’ve got- it all tastes like blood right now,” I said.

I think now I finally understand why people fear going to the dentist.

Sexual Encounters

 I’ve just tried to show my 18 year old sister a picture of the guy I hooked up with on Facebook, who happens to be from Jupiter, Fl. Her response: “ Yeah. I’d tap that. Get in your rocket ships: we’re going to Jupiter!” Then followed a rendition of the song “Drops of Jupiter” by Train, as performed by my sister, who knows approximately 25% of the lyrics.

“..Drops of Jupiter! In her ha-ay-ay-air. Hay-ay-ay-air. Eh Eh eh . EHHHHHH. Tell me! Eh…eh…ahh… wind on your feet! Something something lottery! Eh eh…”

It always weirds me out to hear my 18 year old sister telling me she would “tap that.” Probably because my entire life I’ve always still felt like she’s a kid, even though I keep getting older. I guess she’s 18 now though. We bought lottery tickets together a few weeks ago. Recently, we were getting ready for work/school (work for me, school for her) and we were doing our hair in the bathroom. My dad was walking down the hallway to say goodbye before work, but before he got to the bathroom, he stopped in the hallway. He bent to pick something up. Then he tossed it on the counter.

“What’s this doing in my hallway?”

It was a Trojan condom wrapper.

My sister: “The dog must have taken it out of the garbage.”

Dad: “Well, why is it in the garbage?”

My sister: “ Well…. My boyfriend and I are being safe! I’m 18 years old, DAD!”

At that moment I couldn’t leave for work fast enough.

The most amazing part of this is that our dog did basically the same thing to my other sister Christmas before last when he dragged her used condom out of the trash can and left it for my mom to find when she took her boyfriend to the airport. The Abstinence Dog strikes again!! My parents would probably be relieved if I ever ‘fessed up to that. It would mean that I hadn’t become a lesbian, because, for all the male traffic I bring through this house, they’d have to wonder. Dental dams would still leave some doubts.

Spring Updates: I Am Not Dead

I’ve been lazy about my blog. I haven’t posted anything in 4 months. Good thing no one follows it, because they would possibly think I died.

Here’s a brief update on the last 4 months (aka, not much)

1. The musician boyfriend didn’t work out. This is a recent development- our last interactions have not been what I would classify as friendly, either. Bitter would probably be more accurate. This also means that my “internship” is over. Both our relationship and the internship were fun, but I suppose they weren’t mean to last : (

2. I still work for the fired up people at the helicopter parts distribution company. I still do not like it, although I was promoted- something like 3 months ago. Now I am the “Purchasing Specialist” and I handle all the contracts. On the bright side, I got a little raise and I’m busy from the moment I come in until the moment I leave. On the downside, this is probably the highest position I can attain in this company and it’s still not interesting enough to become a career for me.

3. My car hasn’t died and I have no new traffic tickets! A major plus!!

4. I have had another “coming of age” experience:  My first one night stand. This happened a couple of weeks after the musician boyfriend and I broke up- and on a business trip with the helicopter people, no less. I might defend myself by saying that the gentleman is a 26 year old triathalon competitor and an engineer who looked a bit like a ripped version of Daniel Tosh.  I do have some standards; it was not a total revenge-bang against my ex (or my boss, who was sleeping on the other side of the wall). But I’m not sad that those are the circumstances. 

Other than that, nothing of notable interest has happened. I now live at home fully in the commandeered room, although now my stuff is all in the garage and none of it is at the musician’s house. I’m still saving money and day-dreaming of NYC and regular-dreaming of Taylor Swift. I’m still lazy in personal care- exhibit A: last night I channeled Ke$ha in having beer in a Nalgene bottle, an apple, and 6 Red Vines for dinner. I do have an interview on Tuesday though, so possibly I will have new and exciting info to report soon!

On Being a Transient…

As usual, our office is freezing again. No worries though. I’m evolving into a sub-arctic human being.

I’m starting to get a bit exhausted with living at home. I feel like I don’t take care of myself very well anymore because I don’t really belong anywhere- half my stuff is at my parents’ where I have commandeered a bedroom temporarily and live out of boxes, while the other half of my stuff is still at my boyfriend’s house- being used (in my best guess) a little aggressively. Now all my things are too disorganized for me to bother with things that I normally pay attention to. I’m currently wearing the same underwear I wore yesterday, for example.

I recently got a status update on the girl I was planning on moving in with- apparently her dad is cutting her off and she’s exploring her lesbian tendencies. She’s been unemployed since August and before that worked in a bookstore in Portland. Without the external help, she has had to give up her extravagant downtown two-bedroom, rent a storage space, and move in with an aunt outside of the city. She has a new girlfriend as well. My sources tell me she is like Eeyore, which is really too bad, because my potential future roommate is a very attractive and friendly girl.

On the other hand, I have no idea what my plans are regarding living location, so maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that things aren’t working out on that front.

Language

Lately I’ve been learning all kinds of vocabulary from my youngest sister that is making me feel old. There is only a 6 year age difference, and yet, it’s like speaking to someone from a foreign country.

For example: “Totes.” This is an expression of agreement, literally a lazy derivation of the word “totally.”

My sister has also coined her own phrases such as “grout-fit” and “Rambo.” “Grout-fit” came about when I was accused of wearing one the other day; apparently it is an all-gray colored outfit. In context, I’m sure the statement was something like “You totes need a scarf or something to go with that grout-fit.” This might be some popular thing amongst 17-year-olds. I don’t really know.

However, I’m pretty sure “Rambo” is an original. Basically it’s the same as going commando (aka wearing no underwear under your pants) except it specifically refers to not having shaved your pubic hair first, since it’s like a jungle. I can’t even think of a reason this word needs to exist.

Sleep Deprivation

Today is rough physically. I only had 3 beers last night with my friends, but I stayed up too late and I’m definitely tired today. Usually when I’m sleepy in the morning, I go lie down in the shower in the fetal position and try to sleep a few more minutes. The mentality is that I’m killing two birds with one stone- getting ready while simultaneously sleeping in- however, it doesn’t ever really work. Water is used to bring people out of an unconscious state, not put them back to sleep. So, while it is relaxing, it is not effective.  

I ended up getting to work about 10 minutes early and reclining the driver’s seat and taking a cat nap before work. I probably look insane, but at least it’s better than trying to do it at intersections during the red light (which HAS happened before).  Sometimes all you need is the extra 10 minutes. I feel much better now!

It probably didn’t help that I kept having weird dreams last night either. I dreamed that Taylor Swift was the President of the United States and also maintaining her status as the best country music star. In the dream she was 13 years old instead of 21, but she still looked and (I suppose) acted the same as she does now. Obviously, everyone was very impressed that the youngest (and first female) president had ever been elected! How does she do it? A full-time country music career AND running the country? What was pretty cool for me was my celebrity encounter in the dream- My boyfriend, myself, my sister, and her boyfriend were all in an elevator and who should be there but the President herself! However, none of us knew what to say so we ended up just doing the thing where you hesitate to push the button, but then when you realize the other person is doing the same thing, you both reach for it too fast and there’s this little awkward period followed by awkward-elevator silence. Strangely, there was no secret service on the elevator, but, then again, with 5 of us it was already pretty crowded.

Dilemma

So my quarter-life-crisis is reaching decision time in the dilemma. My boyfriend, who is a musician for a living, could use some marketing to organize his strengths into a promote-able package. I want to do entertainment work, preferably in the music industry, and my degree is in marketing. We work well together, mutually motivate, and would probably be a pretty unstoppable force once we got into the swing of things. This would also not require me to move to a major city. I would be able to start locally and decide if major-city movement would ever really be necessary.

The downside: He is not in the financial shape to hire a professional to do the job (hence the only reason the opportunity is available to me.) This means I would be unpaid- basically an entertainment marketing intern- at least until I prove myself a valuable employee and succeed at making him some money. It would be motivating because if he goes down, we both go down. Compensation has not been fully discussed, but he knows he would have to cover some of my expenses.

Another concern is (obviously) that we are romantically involved, meaning that any turbulence in the relationship could lead to employment problems. Fortunately, he is professional enough that I don’t think this would be a problem and I don’t see us breaking up any time soon, but I want some kind of contingency plan for this.

The main concern, though, is the parents. His are super-religious and do not want me living with him. This is how it used to be and they were thrilled when I moved out to appease them. (This was discussed as part of the compensation- I could live there and he would pay rent and bills).

My parents are super-negative. I don’t even want to broach the subject of quitting my entry level dead-end job with benefits to “take a step backwards” as they would see it. Going from a company with a 401k plan to being an unpaid intern in an industry you know nothing about? Stupid. My argument for this is that I knew nothing about the industry I work in now when I started and now I manage quite fine- and I don’t even like it! Also, it would be better to get out now when I have nothing to lose, really, instead of staying for years, gaining nothing but wrinkles and regret for not doing something worthwhile. However, I’m sure if I were to continue living with them throughout the process, it would be an endless tirade of pessimism for my future and how I’m a failure at life because I’m still living at home and working for nothing.

I see a once in a lifetime opportunity and a possible stepping stone, but I wonder if I can overcome the inevitable negativity that will result. I wish I could just be honest with them about the ups and downs and have them say something helpful instead of voicing all the ways it’s going to go wrong. I can think of those myself!

Thy body is a temple…

I realize I have been addressing all of the career-related goals of 2011 and none of the others. I have a court date this week about my latest traffic violation (which is from 2010, by the way, so it doesn’t count as having received the ticket this year). I’ve also recently joined a gym, so working out is on the up.

Actually, I had a wonderfully awkward experience of joining my boyfriend’s mother in a workout session at her church. Basically it entails an eclectic group of 7 or 8 older women performing a relatively intense workout to worship music in one of the upstairs Sunday School rooms. This experience immediately brought to my attention three things I realized about my own working out.

1. Typically my workouts are running to club/techno followed by weight-lifting to misogynistic rap tunes. This would be a first for me and God bonding through sweat.
2. I noticed that when I am really pushing it, profanity tends to escape my mouth. This is not something that I usually notice or care about, but was definitely the last thing I wanted when partnering up with my boyfriend’s intensely religious mother.
3. I am really out of shape.

Our workout sounded something like this:

Work-out music: “ And we praaaaaise Him…”

Me: “Oh my God..ness! Goodness this is intense!”

Work-out music: “For He is Holy…”

Me: *panting * “What the fuh….ge!”

Work-out music: “Oooohhh Jeeeeesus!”

Me: “Christ!”

Boyfriend’s Mom: “See? This is no girly-workout!”

Me: *Dry-heaving*

The woman is 65 years old and can kick my ass in work-out class! I’ve just spent the last week waddling around my office to and from the fax machine and coordinating all my printing at once to minimize the amount of times I will have to engage leg muscles to leave my chair. However, I think I will probably continue to go to this workout class because it is good exercise and it is free. It fills me with the Holy Spirit, which feels like a cardiac arrest.