What about you, sideburns?

I am really sick, and yesterday when I opened up my car door I smashed it into the side of my head so I'm pretty sure I have a concussion. As a result, this will be short and stupid-just like kids*.

Danielle: I can't believe tomorrow you will finally own your house. Congratulations, you huge homeowning hor. I will totally be at your place this weekend.

Toren: he's clearly a moron. If he was in front of me right now, I would punch him in the throat and then probably check his pockets for cash because I forgot to hit the ATM on my way home.

To our friends in the south who got their ass beat by lady Katrina (actually can she really call herself a lady? She's more like a giant, raging bitch-hor with PMS.): I promise I won't say anything about how times like these make me think, "This is why I live in Ohio." We are all thinking about you. I am sending money (as everyone should). It's not a lot because I am poor, but you can at least buy a respectable amount of Salt & Vinegar Pringles. Hang in there.

To the guy I followed to work today: I know that sideburns are tricky business, but you spent 23 minutes checking them in your rearview mirror, and I just don't understand how it can possibly take that long to get them in order. I mean just how long are they? Seriously if you need to spend that much time fingercombing them then you need to effing trim them or at least braid that shit. Anything that will get you to stop staring at them in the mirror and STEP ON THE FUCKING GAS PEDAL!

*Mom, I'm kidding. I know you just turned to Dad and said, "I'll never have grandchildren."

95 Tops!

So it's over. My 10 year reunion has come and gone. And holy crap was it fun.

My friends Sudha and Squirt were the ones who came into town. The three of us went together. The first step to proving to our former classmates just how mature and grown up we are was to get dropped off at the reunion by Squirt's mom. Yes it's true. Squirt wouldn't let her drop us off at the door so she parked, and we waited a minute and got out.

Right when we got out I saw my ex junior high/high school/college boyfriend and his wife. I haven't seen him in almost 7 years, and it was super awkward talking to him at first because I didn't know what to say. I don't even know him anymore, and when you don't know someone you try to find common ground, and one way to do that is to reminisce. But his wife was there so it's not like I could say, "So remember when we used to make out in your hot tub?" So instead I gave him a hug and asked to see a picture of his baby. Then I was like, "Let's drink."

Squirt and I decided to play this game where any time anyone would ask us if we were seeing anyone, married or had kids, we would do a shot. Within 30 seconds of being there, we both had to do 2 shots so we quickly ended that game for fear of our lives. We found our nametags and noticed in horror that our senior pictures were on them. My spiral perm was in full effect. As my friend Jeremy put it, "Oh great-I just spent the last 10 years trying to erase this."

The only word I can use to describe how it felt is "surreal". It was surreal seeing all these people who 10 years ago pretty much made up my entire world. Squirt and I were both rather freaked out for the first couple of hours so to combat that feeling, we drank. And we drank a lot.

Here are some interesting stats for you guys:
Number of guys there that I used to have crushes on/obsessions with in junior high/high school: 3
Number of guys I used to have crushes on/obsessions with who now know that fact: 3 (thanks, Squirt)
Number of those same guys who I might still have a crush on: 2
Number of those same guys who asked me out: 1
Is the guy who asked me out 1 of the 2 I might still have a crush on?: No. Of course not.
Did I say I would go out with him and give him my number?: Yes.
Am I going to go out with him?: No.

I know that's rude, but a) I was really drunk, b) I seriously couldn't stop laughing at the fact that he was asking me out and c) quit judging me, Internet! Maybe it's time you turned that finger back on you. I'm talkin' 'bout the man in the mirror.

There is one boy in particular who I was seriously obsessed with. Saturday when I was talking to him (and his wife), I may have reverted back to age 17 and started hyperventilated a little bit inside because I was talking to him. When he left he gave me a big hug, told me he was really glad to see me and to be good. And I swear in my head I said, "Oh my God I am so writing this in my diary."

Overall, I would say the majority of people looked better than they did in high school. I was surprised by that. I definitely don't look better (save the perm), but I did have some cleavage in full effect so maybe no one noticed. My one friend Jeremy (who is gay) grabbed my cheeks and told me my face was "full, fabulous and fresh!" and then he hugged me. That is the nicest way I have ever been called fat before.

The best thing about the reunion for me was that everybody was really, really nice. I didn't dislike too many people in high school. We had an awesome class for the most part, but the few people who were jerks in high school, on Saturday, were genuinely nice, sincere and interested in how I was doing. Also there were several people there who in high school were so unhappy and painfully shy and insecure, and I just knew that if they could just get away from here they would blossom. A few of those people came up to me, too, and had finally come into their own and were confident and happy-everything I wanted for them. That was the best. I had so many awesome conversations with so many different people.

I mean really that's what the reunion is for, right? To come together with the people that shaped your past and share stories and camaraderie. Or it's to get Drew Scalero's belt buckle stuck on your zipper which is what happened towards the end of the night just as the bar owner was kicking us out.

Before we left Sudha and I stole some food, sang "Hollaback Girl" 20 million times, tore Squirt away from the guy who had a mullet all the way through 12th grade (seriously, dude-we went to high school during the grunge era) and then called Squirt's mom to come pick us up. And now I guess I really am writing it in my diary. Whoa-full circle.

P.S. Squirt and Sudha – Thank God you guys were there. I wouldn't have gone if you weren't. Love you guys. Thanks for being the 2 other drunkest people there.

P.P.S. Matty, I wish you had been there.

P.P.P.S. Have a great summer! K.I.T.

10 years???

So tomorrow night is my 10 year reunion. 10....fucking....years. Part of me is excited because two of my best friends are coming in from out of town, and I can't wait to see them. The other part of me is currently constructing an answer to this inevitable question: "So...are you married?"

Here is what I have so far:

"Hey do you know where the bar is?"

My condo: The Bedroom

So since my condo is in pretty good shape and I'm almost done, I thought I would begin to show you what it looks like. Today's feature is the bedroom or, as I call it, The Magic Den.

The pictures don't really do it justice because it is so big, and has a vaulted ceiling, but you will get the idea. Also I am not what scientists might call a "decorator" so don't expect greatness in that arena. But I think it looks pretty so poo on you.

#1:



This is standing in my doorway looking in. I swear the blue on the walls is not really that bright. In case you can't tell, my furniture is effing awesome and beautiful. The yellow picture frame on my nightstand is a picture of my puppy Henry. He is amazing. That thing that looks like a Christmas tree is basically a Christmas tree. It's a grapevine tree with lights and ribbon on it and stuff. It is the single most creative thing I have ever done in my entire existence.

#2:

This is standing in a corner of my room looking at the TV. Yes, I know it is very high. That is on purpose. I hate when I'm lying in bed, and I have to bend my windpipe in half just so I can see a TV that is too low. This is at a perfect height so I can just lay there and look at it. I am a genius.

Underneath the TV is a bunch of Precious Moments and some other collectibles. It doesn't look as trashy in person as it does in this picture. But yes-that is the cable cord you see behind the TV. It looks like shit, but I really don't care. In this picture you can also see one of my closets. I have another just like that one which are connected inside so it's one long closet. Then next to that one I have ANOTHER closet. It's a virtual wall of closets. Well, it's not so much virtual as it is an actual wall of closets. Also see those blinds? John put those up while high on painkillers after having his nuts chopped off.

#3:

This is the view from my TV. That's closer to the real blue of the walls. Blue is my favorite color, and there will never be a day again that I will have a bedroom that is not blue.

So you guys can better imagine me in my condo, I have superimposed a picture of myself over this one to give you the idea. Here I am on The Workbench giving you my bedroom eyes and best come hither look:



You know you want it.

Oh my God I cannot stop laughing at that picture I just made. That is the worst thing I have ever seen.

More wedding highlights

Here are some more of the highlights (that I remember) from Bob and Carrie's wedding:

- ALoyd making out with a bridesmaid at the bar (yes we saw you Loyd)
- Sharda leaning her full weight on the door of the hotel shuttle van and then just opening the door and literally spilling out onto the ground face first
- Drew throwing his full drink at Diane thereby soaking the front of her dress and then yelling at her because his drink was gone
- Tony stripping down to only his knee socks, dress shoes and tie and streaking in the parking lot of the reception hall then mid-streak grabbing a plastic lawn chair and running with it over his head
- Meg all by herself at the table dancing like a banshee on speed and Kim saying, "There's the bullseye." (If you haven't seen "Wedding Crashers" you won't get this)
- Steph and Diane stealing champagne from other people's tables
- Me wearing Tony's tuxedo vest for a good 45 minutes and then Woody's tie for pretty much the whole night
- Carrie bitching about how the DJ wasn't playing enough 90's music
- The kid in the wifebeater biting Steph on the arm
- Single people having a "shot party" everytime a slow song came on. Sidenote: I haven't done shots since my freshman year in college. I did like 86 or something like that on Saturday.
- Bob telling me that now that he's married it's going to be much harder for him and I to make out
- Falvo jumping in the hotel pool buck naked
- Tony jumping in the hotel pool with his tux on
- Aloyd getting thrown into the hotel pool fully clothed by Falvo and Tony
- Diane and I getting in a fight (can't remember why) and her throwing pizza at my face then me shoving pizza down the front of her dress then 5 seconds later not being mad at each other but deciding we were mad at Drew
- Woody basically passing out on a deskchair and ottoman
- Gordo walking into our room the next morning wearing his boxer shorts and a polo that was inside out

Wait-were we at a wedding or were we at college?

Summary of my weekend

Work is absolutely kicking my ass so this will be short. I have to get to bed so I can immediately wake up again and dial in.

Friday we went to John Christ Winery aka "Sarah's Playground". Goddammit I love that place. There is a golf course behind it, and I may or may not have walked through some grapevines to get there so I could run through the sprinklers. And I may or may not have tried to run but took two steps and wiped out. And the sprinklers may or may not have turned off as soon as I reached them. Man that would've been awesome, though, if that had worked out.

Saturday I went to a wedding for my friends Bob and Carrie. It was awesome. Friends, food, drinks, dancing, Tony streaking in the parking lot--all the great elements of a wedding. And hey extra bonus points because I was legitimately in the bathroom during the bouquet toss which almost never happens on purpose. Bonus points were quickly taken away, however, when Oxygen Tank Lady Who Smoked Anyway came in and puked in the garbage can. But then Sharda fell on the dance floor and got a fat lip = + bonus points. Oh but then Gordon threw the Mother of all Hissy Fits. Seriously he put 4 year old girls around the globe to shame = - bonus points. Honestly it was a fantastic wedding, and Bob and Carrie looked so happy. I hope you are happy forever, Bob and Carrie!

Sunday was a birthday party for Scott's son who is turning 1. He is really ugly, and by "ugly" I mean "cutest fucking thing on the entire planet". Oh by the way, Scott, if you are missing him it's because I smuggled him out in my purse.

Okay that's all I got for you tonight. Oh except that I watched the college edition of Jeopardy, and the kids on there were answering every impossible question-things I don't think I've ever even read about-and then this one came up:

"He went to USC on an athletic scholarship before landing the lead role in 'Magnum P.I.'"

And those effers just sat there, staring blankly into space. Finally the one girl pressed the buzzer, and I was like, "Man thank God I'm not as old as I thought". Then she said, "Who is Ted Danson?" Listen, girlie, I will knock you on your collegiate ass.

My confession

Okay, Internet, it's time for me to confess something to you. Some of you already know this about me, but it's time everyone knew. See, we all know I am afraid of sharks. I am also afraid of airplane takeoffs and landings, and I ain't so crazy about carnival rides.

Rides? Awesome.

Amusement parks? Awesome.

Putting my life in the hands of a carnie who just unloaded the ride off the back of a semi 10 minutes after he downed his 2nd bottle of Jack for the day? Not awesome.

In my opinion, those are not strange things to be afraid of. Here's why I'm a freak: I'm scared of mascots. Actually it's not really a fear. It's more like an overall uneasiness or a general mistrust. I hate when they come by me and touch me and look at me with their vacant stare without saying one word. And they always have to have a non-dressed up friend with them to guide them toward people because they can't effing see. Every time they get near me my heart starts to race and anxiety wells up inside of me. When they try to "talk" to me (stare creepily), well, I just can't think of a less comfortable situation.

When I was a freshman in college I went to this party, and a cute junior was hitting on me (obviously), and his buddy came up, put his arm around him and said, "Hey did you know my buddy here is Tomahawk." Tomahawk was our university's mascot for the first 2 years I was there. Immediately I was like, "Um...I have to go."

God just get away from me. I just want to watch the game or I just want to eat my food (Red Robin) or I just want to ride the goddamn Space Mountain, Mickey Mouse, so get off my back!! I don't want my picture with you, and I don't want to hug you, and I don't want free stuff from you. And just stop waving! Stop it!

Earlier this week we had a red alert as I walked into the food court and saw Slider standing there. I stopped in my tracks. Derek watched carefully for a chance for me to get by. It got hairy when we ran for the escalator, and Slider was about 3 feet away. For a moment it looked like he was going to turn around and stare at me silently (but deadly), but we were too fast for that fat piece of creepy crap and made it upstairs unscathed.

So now you know. I'm a huge freak. I'm glad we had this talk. Now stop judging me and start judging Danielle who hates when people take the top off of yogurt or pudding and then lick it. I mean, what's that about?

P.S. This is just unnecessary.

Local news can bite me

Local news is ridiculous. I don't need to tell you that. But seriously I once saw a promo for a report that had a red flashing light and a siren blaring as the voiceover menacingly said, "Can salad KILL you??" I have never felt so embarassed for my city.

Earlier this year (or maybe late last year-it doesn't matter), Cleveland had a huge, giant snow storm. The next day it was like 80 degrees, and everything started rapidly melting. Now that sucks, I admit it. But it's not like the President was assassinated or McDonald's brought back the McDLT (cool side cool, hot side hot).

One local station decided it was important enough to interrupt an entire day's worth of programming so they could bring you up-to-the-minute news and information about The Melting Snow. A phenomenon not seen by this part of the country before. And, of course, by this part of the country I mean the Snow Belt.

Goddammit.

Anyway, the anchors kept saying how some roads were flooded and houses were being damaged and how you couldn't find this kind of coverage on any other station. Um duh-that's because every other station is run by someone who doesn't suck. They kept going out live to their field reporter. This field reporter was standing on a highway that was legitimately severely flooded because the snow was melting too fast for it to drain. He had on a poncho, and he looked really annoyed.

They checked in on him for an update approximately every 3 minutes, and each time he looked more and more pissed off. The first conversation went something like this:

Slutty woman anchor: "We go now to Bill who is on location on the Shoreway where they are experiencing heavy flooding. Bill, what can you tell us?"

Bill: "Well still not much progress happening here, Joan. City officials are out here trying to break up the ice that may still be covering the drains. Folks are being detoured through the city and onto I-90. Back to you in the studio."

By the end it was like this:

Slutty woman anchor: "Bill, what can you tell us about the situation on the shoreway? Any updates?"

Bill: "No."

Then there was an uncomfortable silence as Joan was clearly waiting for more information, but you could tell Bill was thinking, 'Fuck you guys in the studio. You stupid assholes. I'm out here in a goddamn poncho standing on a highway with no fucking berm watching cops drain water. I hate this fucking job.'

He instantly became my favorite news reporter ever in the history of news reporters. Well guess what?

HE EFFING WORKS IN MY DEPARTMENT NOW!!!!

I swear to God. I walked into work today knowing we were getting a new guy, and I saw it was him and just about lost my freakin' mind. He shook my hand and was so nice to me. I think I am going to bring in a poncho and have him sign it.

As a sidenote, I think that by the Transitive Property this makes me a local celebrity. If you want I will sign your boobs.

I'm going to bed

But I just want to say to all my friends: I love you all so effing much it's ridiculous. The ways in which you make me feel complete are indescribable. Plus you're all insane, and it makes me feel normal. This goes for my blog friends, too. :)

To Aaron's neighbor, the only "real" adult at his party: I'm sorry I talked to you about Europe and my old white trash neighbors for like 15 minutes while wearing a velour headband and drinking wine directly out of a bottle.

Dammit Steph

This is long, but, in my opinion, worth it. Come on-you're not doing anything at work. Just read it.

My friend Steph is a planner. She plans social events for us. That's just who she is. It's what she does. Lately her mission in life is to get everyone she knows to love and embrace Cleveland. I already do, but it is still fun to see what she comes up with.

So tonight we go to this event where you pay $10 to go to a happy hour/party from 6pm till the bars close. You get free appetizers, and you can listen to a bunch of local bands. The whole point of going there, however, is to get people to tour these new town homes and lofts they are building. Since we are old, we are honestly more excited about touring new real estate than anything else. That is sad but true. Well for most of us-Drew is pretty excited about the free food.

We walk over to the building with an "Open House" sign in front of it and walk in. "Welcome to the tour!" they say, "Have a look around." And I have to say, it really is breathtaking. The sales center, that is. You can't tour the effing town homes or lofts because they aren't built yet. Oh but we can look at a miniature model of them. That is totally the same. We are pissed. This is false advertising. If I wasn't on my diet I would shove an entire plate of free cookies down my shirt, knock down the model and run out of there like a bat out of hell.

After that disaster we decide to go see a movie in the park. Downtown Cleveland has started this movie night. Once a month (in nice weather), we gather on Mall B (the nice grassy area), and they set up a big movie screen and everyone sits outside and watches the movie. It is awesome. Tonight's movie is "E.T."*.

Shortly into the movie a couple of homeless guys come and sit behind us. They are harmless, not bothering anybody-until Steph gets involved. Steph, with her very compassionate heart (except if your last name is Bush), turns to me and says, "Hey-I'm going to give them some of our food." I agree. I mean who is against giving food to the hungry? Not me.

Seeing that there are two of them, she decides to go with the 2 pack of cupcakes (she's really good at math). It's a solid choice, but the homeless guy she hands it to is not impressed.

"What is that!? I don't want that!! I didn't ask you for anything!!!" Steph, knowing that this could be a possible outcome, says, "Okay. That's fine. I was just offering."

A couple minutes later we hear, "Hey! Hey! That was very nice of you. I do appreciate it. But I have to work out." Then he starts working out. I should mention that "working out" in this case means laying on your back and lifting your legs so over your head so that your chin is touching your chest and you talk funny. Yes-we all did this same exercise…when we were 8.

The whole time he is "working out", he's talking gibberish. I have no idea what he's saying, but it's fine. It's around this time that we start to realize that this guy is totally shitfaced. Five minutes later, fresh from his workout, he starts his Catwomanlike crawl on the ground toward Christy.

Christy-who is tall, blonde, gorgeous and attracts a lot of weirdos-is lying on her back on the ground. Homeless guy lays down right next to her-roughly 2 inches away. Then he begins throwing out his A-game:

HG: "I'm from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Do you believe in this stuff?"
Christy: "No it's just a movie."
HG: "Yeah but do you think it could happen? You Ohio people are crazy. I'm from Pennsylvania."

This exact conversation goes on for a good 2-3 minutes even though it feels like an entire lifetime has passed. He is really uncomfortably close to her, and finally Diane yells at her boyfriend, Drew (the only guy there), "Drew! Go lay on top of Christy!!" He does (and without much hesitation, I must say).

I decide we need reinforcements so I go tell the security people that there is a crazy drunk homeless guy creeping out my friend and invading her personal space. HG sees me talking to them, and it's enough to scare him off so he packs up and leaves. But not without leaving behind his razor and shaving cream. He is like the homeless Cinderella.

I will take this razor and shaving cream to every homeless person in Cleveland, and when I find the one on whose face it fits, I will ask him what brought him here to Cleveland from Pittsburgh because, personally, I am having trouble getting people to stay here.

Steph, your heart was in the right place, but goddammit get the weirdos away from us!

*"E.T." was the first movie I ever saw in a movie theater. I was 4, and I cried—this is no exaggeration—for 2 years after I saw it. I would go to sleep at night and wake up crying because "Elliot and ET are never going to see each other again!!" This must have been a fun period of time for my parents. But then they bought us the E.T. record as narrated by Michael Jackson. We listened to it every night for a year and cried every night for a year. Also my sister had this poster on her wall. I may or may not have cried again tonight. Well come on-I'm not made of stone!!!

I'm a salad machine

Update on my diet: I want to thank my friends, family and everyone who reads this for their advice and well wishes. I kicked total ass on my diet yesterday, and since I have absolutely no willpower, I can only conclude that Day 1 was successful because of you guys. You're all awesome. Yogurt is not. Celery with low-fat peanut butter is.

I think I found a great way to work out on my drive in to work: listen to "Photograph" by Def Leppard over and over and over at maximum volume. It gets your heart rate up and your adrenaline pumping. There's no way you're not burning calories when you're listening to a song that rocks so effing hard.

I have no ideas for a cohesive post today so here is some random shit:

I punched myself in the face this morning.

My dad rules because he spent 3 hours helping me hang pictures last night. They are heavy and I am dumb and lacking power tools so my dear old dad came over to help me. They look awesome and so effing level I could just cry. I love you, Dad!

My mom rules and is kind of annoying because she has been harping on me for a year and a half to go get tested for hypothyroid, and finally I went so she would shut the hell up. When the doctor asked me why I was there I said, "I gotta be honest, Doc, I'm here for one reason: so my mom will leave me the eff alone." He laughed really hard and did a blood test. A week later I was started on hypothyroid medication. Goddammit, Pam. Why do you know everything!? Thanks for diagnosing me with significant health problems twice this year (gallstones, hypothyroidism). I love you.

Miss Teen Ohio won Miss Teen USA. I'm sorry, but she is effing hot. We know how to grow 'em.

Steve Karsay is back in the majors. Maybe it's because he's totally fucking awesome and hot. Oh for those of you that don't know this already, I LOVE STEVE KARSAY AND WILL HAVE HIS BABIES. I mean if his wife doesn't mind.

The other day on the escalator a lady walked up to Derek and shoved the plastic bag she was holding at him. "Here hold this, dear. I want to show you how heavy it is. It's 60 pounds. You tell Diana Ross and the Supremes that I read my books." Holy awesome crazy lady, Batman.

Salad sucks

I want to put out a preemptive apology to all of those people who know me and will have to be around me for the next few weeks. If I am in a bad mood, it is because I am on a diet. It is completely self-inflicted, and it won't be your fault, but there is a distinct possibility I will act like it is your fault.

Here is why I am most angry. I went to the grocery store tonight, and here is a list of some of the items that I bought:

salad
fat free turkey
fat free chicken
salad
yogurt
celery
carrots
salad
absolutely no pop
Snackwell's
oh and did I mention salad

Now here are my general feelings on every single thing on this list:
I would rather chew on tin foil.

Seriously look at that list. Stupid effing pointless horrible salad. Why don't I just eat a box of Kleenex since it tastes just as good and is just as satisfying. Plus I am only drinking water which definitely does not have cola in it nor does it fizz and kind of make your nose burn when you drink it too fast. What is fun about that. And don't get me started on yogurt. I don't like it. I don't understand it. I want it to go away...forever.

Why am I doing this if I hate it so much?

1. My doctor is like, "You're fat."
2. I was kind of half-assing it the past few weeks, but then I saw pictures of me from Put In Bay. I quickly created a noose out of some spare birthday ribbon I had, but the damn thing didn't hold so I decided to go this route.

To my lunch crew: this will be hardest on you. Just remember that no matter how angry I am at the yogurt, it's not about you. Unless you love yogurt then I kind of hate you.

My bodyguard

Lately there have been a series of muggings and car break-ins around downtown Cleveland. John is really sweet and sent Danielle and I a warning email. Not like warning us that he was going to mug us, but telling us to keep our eyes open. After reading about the hotbed of criminal activity that is exactly the area where I work, I have decided I need to hire a bodyguard.

Position: Sarah's Personal Bodyguard

Job Description: Walk me into work in the morning and then back to my car at night. I will also need you to walk with me any time I am downtown without Diane (she is really scary and tough).

Required skills: not scared of muggers, freakishly strong, knows how to fight (this eliminates many of my male friends-okay all of them), willing to sacrifice your life for me and my $7 in cash + $1.48 in stamps

Preferred skills: when confronted by muggers immediately begin choking on a Jolley Rancher (tm), spidey sense, won't laugh when I cry and/or pee my pants, expert in at least one of the martial arts (hopefully karate so you can do "The Crane"), if you are male you will make out with me like Kevin Costner in "The Bodyguard"

Salary: I will not give you the cash from my wallet because that would make you a mugger, and that means that I hired exactly the opposite of what I need. But you can come to lunch with me and the crew. It is really fun. Sometimes Derek talks about feeding broccoli to stingrays.

Note: Candy asses need not apply.

There are 7 people in this bed

I slept with two different guys this weekend.

Don't worry, Mom, all we did was sleep (prudes). Seriously, though, Put in Bay was amazing-as always. I really have no idea how to explain this weekend so I will let this picture do it for me:



I am never drinking again. At least until, like, Friday.

At some point I am going to have to grow up

But it won't be this weekend.

We are making our annual trek to Put In Bay Island, OH. PIB is an island on Lake Erie that's about an hour and a half drive and a 20 minute ferry ride away. We go every year and stay in a cabin which we ultimately destroy. If you take a look at their web site, it would seem Put In Bay is a great place to take the family. And it is. When we are not there. When we are there this is usually how things end up:



It's not pretty is it. For those of you with a sharp eye, you are right-that is not me. That is my baby sister. She really makes us proud. I don't even think we know that guy. Just kidding. That's her boyfriend Drew. Can't you tell by his hot ass? That's our friend T in the background. There are tons of pictures of his naked ass floating around, but I will not post those here for the sake of your eyesight.

At any rate, I hope you all have great weekends. Pray for my liver.

Tag team back again

I am getting tagged all over the place. This time it was my favorite Urban Princess.

10 years ago: I had a spiral perm and worked at Target. I was also avoiding all conversation and activities that had to do with going away to college because I didn't want to go.

5 years ago: I was drunk.

1 year ago: I was living with the person I was 100% sure I was going to marry, and also I was drunk. In retrospect that may be the reason I thought I was going to marry him.

Yesterday: I went out to dinner with my parents, grandparents, sister and Drew. Listen I'm just going to come out and say it: Olive Garden rules. I don't care what anyone says.

Tomorrow: Faking my way through work and then spending my life savings at Old Navy.

5 snacks I enjoy: Salt & Vinegar Pringles, Sour Patch Kids, kettle corn, strawberries, ice cream

5 bands/artists that I know the lyrics to most of their songs: Indigo Girls, Vertical Horizon, Backstreet Boys (sorry), Billy Joel, The Format

5 things I'd do with $100,000,000: Pay off credit card bills and my house, buy houses for my family, take all my friends to Vegas, throw it in a pile on my bed and roll around in it, gloat

5 locations I'd like to run away to: New York City, Vail, Vegas, Hawaii, Neverland

5 bad habits I have: eating when I'm bored, chewing on my nails/cuticles, interrupting, unbuttoning my friends' shirts when I am drunk, stealing from homeless people

5 things I like doing: singing, sleeping, drinking, making fun of people, Skee-ball

5 things I will never wear: turtleneck sweater, poncho (nice SLCUPS), bermuda shorts, athletic cup, electronic surveillance bracelet (this is wishful thinking)

5 TV shows I like: Only 5? Friends, Lost, Designed to Sell (nerd), Scrubs, Family Ties (Michael J. Fox forever)

5 movies I like: A Few Good Men, Vacation, Wedding Crashers, Hoosiers, The Goonies, Mean Girls, Office Space, Tommy Boy, Van Wilder, Almost Famous, Varsity Blues, Shrek, Anchorman, Die Hard, Bridget Jones' Diary, Ocean's Eleven--okay that may be more than 5.

5 people I'd like to meet: Will Ferrell, Conan O'Brien, Vince Vaughn, my parents when they were kids, David Hasselhoff

5 biggest joys at the moment: my condo, going to Put In Bay this weekend, HGTV, Drew got a new job, the promise of jello shots.

5 favorite toys: Playdoh, Lite Brite, my mp3 player, Big Wheel, Diane

I am tagging my work bitches (John and Scott). I would tag Danielle as well, but I already tagged her before, and frankly she wasn't all that great. Wait--what are we talking about?

Whoa sorry

I'm sorry if I brought you all down with my last post. I really didn't mean it to sound that sad. That is why I talked about ripping things out of assholes at the end. Apparently I alarmed some people. I am okay-that was just some much needed closure. Having to deal with that apartment was really annoying, and I just wanted to be rid of it, and now I am. It didn't affect me the way I thought it would, but it was closure nonetheless. B's a jackoff, and I know that, and I will have random sex with strangers to prove that I am dealing with this breakup healthily. Wait...

Here is something to cheer you up: last night I dreamt that we were at some big county fair and there was an elephant doing tricks and all of a sudden it broke loose and started stomping on people and going crazy. So Diane and I jumped into our station wagon (?) to drive away, but he jumped in the backseat and was growling at us, you know because elephants are always growling, so I just started singing some Pat Benetar (obviously), and it totally calmed him down, and he went back into his cage, and I saved the entire fair. Then--in my dream--I thought, 'Man, I seriously need to blog about this.'

I found out that dreaming about an elephant means you are laying the groundwork for wealth and success. Normally I don't believe in that stuff, but come on--clearly I am laying that groundwork by blogging at work and buying lottery tickets. Freaky, huh?

The high road

Dear B,

On Wednesday I closed up the apartment and left my keys never to return. I thought it would be easy to leave considering everything that happened there, but I was horribly wrong. I couldn't leave. For 45 minutes I sobbed so hard I thought I would never stop.

I walked through the entire apartment picturing you in every room.

The kitchen where you made me dinner and surprised me with homemade chocolate covered strawberries.

The dining room where you hung up all your Baltimore pictures and made me read articles about sports on the Internet.

The living room where we watched TV every night and talked about our days, our friends, our families-everything.

The sunroom where you would wait for me to come home from work and then peek up over the window sill and tell me you were happy I was home.

The bedroom where we had our deepest conversations laying side by side until we fell asleep and then woke up next to each other every morning.

When we moved in there 16 months ago in my wildest dreams I could never have imagined that one day in July I'd be closing up that apartment by myself and going to live someplace else without you.

After two years of loving you more than I knew it was possible to love another person and two years of thanking God every day for bringing you into my life, I would just like to say that I hope your next girlfriend dumps you so hard it feels like your heart was ripped directly out of your asshole.

You suck.

Love,
Sarah

The Big Easy

We're back from New Orleans, and I can use two words to sum up the trip: effing awesome. It was by no means a relaxing trip, but holy crap was it ever fun. It was so fun, in fact, that I had to take off work today to recover.

Steph graded us on our "performance" which basically means she graded us on how fun we were. She said I set the curve which I think is a nice way of saying I made the biggest ass out of myself. There were roughly 10 hours of the whole trip that I was not intoxicated or dancing or molesting Jace.

That city is a trip and a half, and I would gladly go back again once I successfully complete detox. I have only two complaints:

1. It is so hot and humid, half off my face melted off and has yet to solidify completely since being back. Seriously, how do you people who live there deal with that heat? There was not one millisecond where I was not sweating from every single pore on my entire body. Even when I was inside in the air conditioning I was still sweating. I would take a shower, step out and begin sweating. I remember when I saw "A Time To Kill", and everyone looked really sweaty and greasy the whole time, and I was like, "God don't they have air conditioning in the south? It's not like this is set in the 1900's." And now I realize just how realistic that movie is. What is the deal with that? No seriously-I need an answer from somebody.

I will never complain about the humidity in Cleveland again. At least not for like another week.

2. As John said, it smells like ass. That city smells so bad I almost vomited 10 times—which probably would've made it smell better.

Anyway, anyone who is thinking about going to The Big Easy, I highly recommend it if you are into a party atmosphere. Do not bring your kids like all the idiots I saw with 4 and 5 year olds who then had to explain why a) there are pictures of naked women/people having sex everywhere, b) that girl is sitting on the curb looking dazed and laughing for no reason (me), c) seemingly normal girls are lifting their tops for shiny beads and d) that guy jumped off the balcony and is now being led away in an ambulance (this really happened).

Holy shit I'm still hungover. Sarah need sleepy.