slaydog26

Sunday:
11-1 shop for new clothes and underpants. Buy fancy robe.
1-2:15 lunch with my parents.
2:15-4 float in lake washington in a raft.
4-5:30 lay in bed. Nap.
5:30-9 barbecue. (west seattle)
9pm on- lounge around. Sleep.

Monday:
9-9:45 go running.
9:45-11:30 lay in sun and nap. Decide to purchase hammock.
11:30-3 Brunch, go to plant store, fred meyer. Buy hammock.
3-5 Put up and lay in said hammock. Nap.
5-9 barbecue. (georgetown)
9 on-lounge around. Sleep.

PROJECTED PLANS; TUESDAY/WEDNESDAY

8-9 running
9am-9pm HAMMOCK HAMMOCK HAMMOCK eat HAMMOCK HAMMOCK HAMMOCK eat.
9pm move it inside. lounge.


I just realized today when i was hanging up my hammock that the trees it's hanging off of are technically mine. (though i realize through knowledge gleaned from the pocahontas disney song that i can't TRULY own any part of nature..) I think it's really weird.
Also, I learned that tying a hammock to your deck isnt a good idea if you don't want to rip part of the deck off. And fall on the ground.
This type of devastation can only be cured by then properly attaching the hammock to some trees that are as...ahem...sturdy.. as i am, and then laying in it.

These are some of the photos from a shoot we did at work. These are the photos of my model. AND THEY ARE SOOO GOOD. (Partially because I'm awesome, partially because my model is a babe, and partially because of Miss Sarah Murphy Jurado, photographer and all around wonderful nice lady.)








CHECK THAT SHIT OUT!!!
xo

That means rolling on the floor lord of the rings, in case you're not up on your shorthand.
I'm currently watching a several part series on birds. I get as excited by each new bird as i do by legolas. Maybe even more so. Also, I feel a real kinship with the ostrich.
I've got nothing going on lately. I wake up in the morning and talk to my plants and eat cereal and watch the golden girls. (I planted like 70 seeds in pots for my vegetable garden and they're all doing really well. I think it's because i talk to them in the morning and at night. But I cant see my kitchen table.)
Then i go to work.
Then i come home and talk to my plants some more and see how much they grew during the day.
I am OBSESSED with my plants. I think i might have a hard time eating them when the time comes. Which brings me to my other obsession.
CHICKENS!!!!!!!
I think that i cant build a chicken coop this year though. I have to rebuild my deck this year.
BUT WHAT IF I HAD PET CHICKENS!!!!! Wouldn't that be the best?

Check that shit out. What if i had those dudes in my yard? And if there was some kind of epic battle about to be staged on me, they would either:
a. give me advice and train me in some kind of long dead telekenesis-laden martial arts
b. come to life as old ninja-type dudes and whoop some serious ass.
Look at them!!!!!

He would be their adversary. A brash, young upstart. So tough! Look at those legs!!

I'm obviously a natural. See how the chicken and I coexist as one? She loved me. At least i think thats what pecking at my fannypack meant. Such beautiful symbiosis. We really connected.

This morning, I was doing my thrice weekly workout in a room with mirrors on all sides, and I discovered that my pants are SEE THROUGH. Now, these aren't new pants. These are pants that I've been wearing for around a year. Not just to the gym, either. I go to the store, the park, or wherever I go before or after the exercising. Good lord.
So, in short, I've been walking around town with a high ponytail, sticking up bangs, skeletor face, and transparent pants. If I were the type to get embarrassed about things, this would be one of them.
When I was doing something strenuous this morning, I told my trainer that it was hard and here's what she said to me: "Well...it's alot harder to be fat."
After watching the show 'half ton mom', where she hasn't gotten out of bed for four years and has skin seepage, I suppose she's right. This is why I trust the pros.

There has been an incident involving my dog and I. Apparently if either one of us eats ice cream and a gyro, there is some hurricane level impact on our systems. I actually can't tell who is worse. It's a nightmare. We're laying in my bed periodically giving each other really dirty looks.
Valentine and I just spent, oh, about three hours watching the following three shows;
half ton teen
half ton mom
half ton dad
These all are (obviously) shows about really really fat people. Like a thousand pounds. It follows them while they go to a clinic and have different surgeries so they can lose weight. At one point, everything is going along nice, and they're prepping someone for surgery, and then all of a sudden there is seventy pounds of fat and skin being lifted up into the air. They cut it off one of the dudes and they are reeling it in like a giant, gleaming salmon. Then they just plopped it onto a table. It was brown on one side and bright red on the other. It looked like a hamburger that was burned on one side. Come to think of it, it was probably largely composed of hamburgers!
Needless to say, there was a LOT of screaming and covering eyes in my living room. Coupled with the residue of about six thousand beers from yesterday and all the farting, it is a bona fide miracle that i haven't thrown up at all today.
This is a conversation i had on the phone today:
Me: Do you think the obese people have sex with each other when they're in that clinic?
My friend Lisa: Oh no, they probably haven't seen their wedding tackle in years. They can't get to it.

Infooorrrrrrrmer! kenowsodaddymesnowsoababalam, boom boom daaaaan!!
It's snowing really really hard and I couldn't go to work. This morning at like 5:30 there was THUNDER. It woke me up and scared the crap out of me and weinerman. Since when does it thunder during a snowstorm? I've seriously watched tv for like about 11 hours. (I don't live by anyone I know.)
Snoop Dogg's father hood is on, and even though I already knew this, It proved my mathematical theory.
Snoop Dogg>R.kelly.
The thing that proves this, at least to me, is that on the show right now, there are about 15 very young girls having a slumber party. Mr. Dogg is baking them cake and leaving them alone to talk about whatever it is that 10 year olds talk about. Mr. Kelly would simply go in there, offer them all some weed, and then piss on all of them. And then deny it.
I dreamed the other night that i saw snoop dogg on the street and flagged him down and told him that he was my favorite celebrity. He then talked me into becoming a prostitute. All the other prostitutes were mean to me and we all hung out in a mcdonalds in new york. They ended up driving me away. It's for the best though. That's not the life for me.
Also, I'd like to give a shout out to ariel for providing me with the tools to be stuck in my house for a whole 24 hour period and not go crazy. However, if my power goes out, I might die.

I'm at home post-meal watching charlie brown's thanksgiving special, while enjoying a vicodin and some wine, and I find myself wondering why all the boys on this show appear to be prematurely balding. Did they have some kind of near death experience? Such a shame at such a young age.
My family went out this year. There's no point in making that kind of mess for four people. I ordered cannelloni
with chard in it,and what i received was actually chard wrapped really tightly around ricotta cheese. I was under the impression that cannelloni was a pasta and not a vegetable, but I guess you live and you learn. The upside was that it looked almost exactly like a sea cucumber, which was fun as i got to distract my dining companions by smooshing the cheese out one end and shouting, 'I'M SCARING IT!!!'

Poor sea cucumbers. Turds of the ocean.
Sometimes all i talk about is food. Right after I typed that sentence i somehow got a chunk of blue cheese up my nose and now all i can smell is feet.
Gross. But somehow, also, delicious.

Some highlights of the evening:
My friend YELLING at my crotch while i was peeing. Seriously.
Having to drink out of a straw because I had a beak on.
My friend getting spied on while sitting in a room by herself, shaking her stuffed pants bulge and staring at it.
At the end of the night, the other chicken was wearing only a marie antoinette wig and his underwear, and marie antoinette was in the chicken suit. I left when I noticed that we had gotten to the point in the evening when more than one person was crying hysterically and everyone was sticking their hands in the dip.
ew.

1. Yesterday I woke up to the canine equivalent of ass-to-mouth porn. Weinerman was laying with his butt on my shoulder and my head on his back. The sound that was happening right in my ear was the unmistakable sound of dog-licking-butt. RIGHT IN MY EAR. Then i opened my eyes and looked at the dog, and he licked me right on the mouth.
2. Today i was at the grocery store at about 9:30 buying some wine and i showed the girl (who was about 20) my i.d. and she laughed and said, 'i don't know... you don't look 21' and then her and her co-worker laughed. THEN she came over to me while I was at the self-checkout and here's what happened;
her: hey
me: uh..hi.
her: I wanted to ask you what you do for your job. Because when I see grown up ladies, I always wonder what they do for their jobs. I'm trying to figure out what i should do with my life.

I then followed with how i'm a hairdresser, etc, but the point is that i got called a GROWN UP LADY. Then I called my mother and she laughed and reminded me that the last time i called her, all i wanted to talk about was my new floor. (In my defense, it is beautiful. BEAUTIFUL!!!)

3. I took a class the other day with a bunch of other hairdressers not from my work and the gang was all there; chubby hemp dress wearer with fuzzy red hair, tall faggy cheese doodle, 'i do photography in my spare time' dude in all black who talks about fashion shoots, and my personal favorite, 45-year-old-lady-that-looks-much-older-because-she's-trying -to-look-25-but-misses-the-mark. Too tan, tall boots, fake boobs, etc.
So I'm sitting next to her during the class and the instructor is using a surge protector to plug in all his things and on it is written really big 'EDUCATION'. I am sitting fairly close to said hairdresser, and i hear her say to herself, really quietly, "what's that say? Ohhh...esthetician!"
My people have a long road ahead of them.

It's true. When I turn thirty, I am going to do these things;
1. Quit smoking ENTIRELY. I keep smoking when I'm really really drunk. (which isnt very often anymore, but still...)
2. Quit getting really really drunk, as it makes me do two things that i dont want to, which are a. eating wendys at midnight and b. smoke like fifty cigarettes.
3. Stop eating crap. Also meat.
4. exercise more often than never.
Last night I did all of the things above, and today i'm eating NOTHING BUT PIZZA!!!!
In other news, the neighbor kids who were harassing me had a house fire and moved away. Ha ha. (I realize that's really spiteful of me, but it is my belief that they gave me the shingles, so fuck them.)
Also i went to the fair yesterday and guess who won with his prize pigeon again?!

Legolas!!! Again!!
His real name is emmet and i love him.
I shall go now and give my twenties the sendoff they deserve.

Sooo I just had the kickoff weekend of my 30th bday party. It was in port townsend in a giant house with 15 people, including my parents and brother. Some highlights;

candles and whatnot. There was a gigantic feast that happened before that consisting of fish tacos, cheesey grits, ceviche, pasta salad, and lots of other deliciousness. (My dad was holding his taco and said, 'its like oral sex!' I figured he wouldn't let that one slide, and he didn't.)

This cake type thing lisa made and it's called eclair pie. I can't even explain how awesome it is. It's graham crackers made all cakey with pudding and covered in chocolate. It's pretty much the best thing ever.

And what party would be made complete without a human pyramid on a moonlit beach? Jen C went on top of this one, but this was the clearest picture.
This coming sunday, part two: the evergreen state fair.

Got 'em again. It's a bunch of bullshit.

I had a dream last night that Jesus came back to earth, but not everyone knew about it. Then he died. (I guess that's the trick he's known for.) My mom and my friend Melissa found his body and made him a nice masoleum in a little wooden box in a storm water grate. Then they bought a miniature white piano that they put on top of the grate and people would come by and sing him billy joel songs.
I've had a really weird day. I went on a bike ride and saw a car accident, after which everyone got out of their cars and were really unapologetically racist, which i had to sit with until the police got there. Then I discovered that my new house is close enough to the lake that I can read the numbers on the blue angels planes when they fly by. Like ten feet above my house. Which makes me shake and cry and hit the deck. It's ridiculous.
But then I barbecued and had fun and that was nice. I just met my across the street neighbors, as i am sitting out on my front porch and they just came home. I tattled on the neighbor kids for throwing cans at their dog. And for jumping on the hood of their car when they aren't home. Little bastards. I'm thinking about starting a war with an eleven year old and ten year old. They throw rocks at my house and steal stuff out of my yard and get up on my roof when i'm not home and go on my patio. I don't want to bug their mom since she has like six kids and a job, but i'm getting close. I had some wine last week and yelled at them and they haven't come over since, so here's hoping. I felt guilty yelling at them and my coworker said, 'If they're bebe's, you have to.'
BEBE'S KIDS!! WOOT WOOT!!

First of all, somebody owes me a million dollars. You know who you are.
Remember when I had a weird thing on my leg like two years ago and i thought it was shingles? And the doctor said no? Well, the EXACT same thing happened in the EXACT same spot three or four days ago. And guess what?
IT'S SHINGLES. Therefore it was shingles the last time, therefore you owe me a million dollars. Start saving.
In other news, I'm tough. In my convalescence, I have been working on my little house. Earlier, I caulked my tub and then re-glazed my windows. And replaced my shower head. And ran three miles.
I got one of those detachable hose-type shower heads (for giving weinerman a bath) and was carrying it around lowe's and all of a sudden got all paranoid that people would think i was getting it for the 'massage' capabilities and I went back and got one of the 'rainfall' ones. Massage, indeed.
I love my house. I'm sitting in a hammock right now on my porch drinking a glass of wine, my dog by my side.
Here's the link to pictures of it.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/7751253@N03/sets/72157606355719662/

This morning the movers came to move all of my things into my little house. I got up, met them, LEFT, (which is amazing as i HATE moving and don't want to ask any of my friends to help me) came to my new house and painted my dresser, then picked raspberries with weinerman, then ate them for breakfast with yogurt. It has been, so far, an amazing day. Now the movers are moving things into my house and weinerman, the birds and i are all on my deck in the sunshine. I am proud to report that i have been in my yard with no pants on twice already.
One time it was passing for a bathing suit, and another time i didn't want to get paint on my pants.
Everyone's dog poops in my yard though. I was weeding yesterday and grabbed a turd with my BARE HAND. It was disgusting. Also i've stepped in it barefoot. But it's my birthday soon. Apparently i'm turning turdy.

The first order of business is that i got my keys to my house. It is so sweet and little and perfect. I love it probably in the same way that I would love a baby. Maybe more. Some reasons why:
1. You get in trouble if you paint or refinish a baby.
2. Most babies don't come with a washing machine. I am actually going to have NO excuse to have cheese on my pants.
3. If your house wakes you up in the middle of the night crying, it is haunted and you can sell it, or at least be on unsolved mysteries with it, which is exciting as you would get to meet robert stack and maybe get him to do your outgoing message on your answering machine...

There is a place on the way there that CLAIMS to have 24 flavors of soft serve ice cream. That is at least 8 of those machines. I haven't gone in there yet, but I'm skeptical. Also there's cakes in the window. This is not a 'some cakes' establishment though. There's LOTS OF CAKES.
I have a jacuzzi bathtub in my house. I have taken two baths there and cleaned said tub twice.
On another note, tank top season has led me to a strange phenomenon that has only started happening this year. I'll be like fifteen feet from an old man, (we're talking at least seventy+ here..) and he'll blatantly stare at my chest the whole way walking toward me, and then at the last minute, look up in my face and give me the MEANEST, DIRTIEST look. I don't know what it's about, but it's happened seriously like 7 or 8 times this month. I really can't figure it out. I don't mind the staring, as they've probably earned it in the war or something, but the dirty look part is starting to get to me.

All of a sudden, starting this week there is a string of events that, over the next while, will result in me being a full fledged adult.
1. I have found a patch of grey hair. A whole patch. Not just one wiry hair or maybe a freak whitey, a WHOLE PATCH. At my right temple. Which i am deciding whether or not to cultivate.
2. This sunday, I will be having my ten year anniversary at my job. Someone born when i started my job would now be in fourth or fifth grade. They would know their multiplication tables. And fractions, I think, which is kind of ironic, as alot of people that do my job have a problem with fractions.
3. I am buying a house that will close on the 26th of this month, which is really really getting kind of scary, as i am having to sign a lot of paperwork with large dollar amounts next to my name. But, weinerman and i will have a yard with trees in it and lots of other wonderful things to belong to just us.
4. Exactly two months after the house closes, I turn thirty.
So, as of august 26th, I will be a thirty year old lady with grey hair who owns a house and has held down a job for ten years.
On the other hand, I am laying in bed swilling scotch out of a klingon puzzle mug, I haven't had clean underwear for about a week and I 'washed' my jeans today with a wet sponge.
Huh.

I've been feeling a little porky lately, what with the arrival of the (somewhat) sunny weather, and the looming terror of wearing a swimsuit in front of people, so i have been making a foray into exercising.
Mostly it has been a little swimming, a little bicycling, etc.
However, I just got it in my head that i should take advantage of the free classes at my gym. So I set off this morning to take a kickboxing class. I arrived and kind of wandered around while the class before mine finished up, looking lost and kind of dumb in stretch pants and a bionic woman t-shirt. Then people started moving these seven thousand pound punching bags into the room and i tried to help while this 65 year old lady was yelling, "balance it with your BODY!!" at me over and over again, not realizing that I actually couldnt move it at all.
Then we had to jump rope. Only for like five minutes, but i realized three things during that time.
1. I am a total spaz and am not even a little bit coordinated.
2. I should quit smoking ENTIRELY, not 'just smoke when i'm drinking.'
3. I am the only one who thinks it is funny and not disruptive when i trip.
So after all that, I had what i call 'skeletor face'. Skeletor face is what happens to me when i exercise a little too hard.
Picture all the black parts on his face white, and all the white parts red. That's what it looks like.
So then there was a lot of punching and kicking, which was to be expected, but there was lots of hopping around that was suspiciously like running while i was punching and kicking. And it never stopped.
It was supposed to be an hour long class, but i left when I was told to "kick standing on one foot while hopping clockwise around the bag. This sounded like a recipe for a broken ankle to me. Also I was about to throw up.
So i left. And seriously almost threw up on the street on my way home.
The thing is, there were lots of old ladies in the class with me. HOW ARE THEY ABLE TO DO THAT SHIT?
I just had a rogue thought that i could probably kick all of their old asses. I'm a jerk. But it's funny to picture myself in a gang fight with a bunch of ladies. For some reason I'm picturing the beat it video but with me as michael jackson and them as the gang members. Close your eyes and picture it.
It almost makes the skeletor face worth it.

Pretty much the most lukewarm statement EVER written on a bathroom wall. 'Toy story two was okay.' Thats like writing 'eggplant can be nice if cooked properly'. It's not even as if the person has some real statement on toy story two that they needed to get out!
Understand it? No.
Love it? Absolutely.
Bless you, ambivalent about toy story two lady. Bless you.

Well, its official. I have thrown my back out and cant get up. It's ridiculous. Of course, catastrophe-oriented lady that i am, I had myself living with my parents in a wheelchair within minutes. Also balding for some reason.
(Also-how do we all fit in the wheelchair?)
The upside of this is that i can freely take muscle relaxers and noone can say anything.
The downside is that i live in a loft and cannot access anything that is in my bedroom. And my house is clean right now, which means that all of my clothes are up there. So basically i'm walking around, stooped over, in a stupid stupid outfit. I was going to go to a kickboxing class earlier, but then i just ended up walking to my car in a workout outfit and then going to get coffee. Then I came home and repotted my tomato plants. Then i got up and my back crumpled up into a big pain-ball.
Thats right. Tomatoes. I am officially obsessed with my plants. I have been referring to them as my babies. But I planted them from seeds myself. So therefore, I created them and therefore I am some kind of god.
The god of roma tomatoes maybe?
Saucy-phus? Personifying the absurdity of plant life by making a tomato roll up a hill? Something like that.
Watch, now that I wrote that all my plants are gonna die. Stupid Zeus.