Spending smart with Okay Seriously

Last night I had to skip DDPP to go to book club. Then I had to skip book club because I got drunk at a bar and stayed there till midnight. What the hell is wrong with me, you guys? First of all, I'm a bad friend. Second of all I'm a bad book club member. And third of all, isn't one of the definitions of alcoholism that drinking affects other aspects of your life? I think so. Let me just say again-I have a problem.

Since you guys are constantly asking me for advice-and by constantly I mean never-I thought I would give you two ideas on how to have fun without spending a lot of money.

1. Have an all day "How I Met Your Mother" marathon. We did this one during the blizzard that hit us a couple weeks ago. Diane and Drew invited people over for the marathon then figured no one would come because of the weather. Everyone came. And here's why: a) If we're going to sit on a couch all day during a blizzard, we want to be with each other and b) "How I Met Your Mother" is effing awesome. Meg went to the grocery store next to her apartment and brought us a plethora of food: frozen pizzas, 3 kinds of dip, chips, desserts, etc. It was freaking fantastic. We just sat and watched all of season 1 (except 2 episodes), stuffed our faces and drank beer and wine. Hello, one of the greatest days ever!

2. Mexican Train night. Mexican Train is a dominos game, and not, as Woody first thought, the name of a bad porn. My grandparents first introduced me and my family to this game. Obviously. Who else is going to teach you a dominos game but your grandparents? Well maybe the Okay Seriously family because we are obsessed with it and have taught it to all of our friends, and they, too, are now obsessed with it. It sounds so simple, and it is, but holy crap it is fun because everyone just keeps screwing each other over again and again, and I always have to say sentences like, "Meg, I love you, but not during this game. During this game you are the worst ever." or "Gordo, I will slap you right in your face." Doesn't it sound really fun to play games with me? Anyways, I highly recommend this as a fun thing to do, but maybe not with me because I will threaten you in the heat of the moment. P.S. Might I recommend drinking Strawberry Daiquiri wine coolers while you play this game? That's what I did, and it was glorious. I told the story of how I got carded at Rite Aid and was like, "Seriously? I mean these are really just juice." And Paul and Jen, in a great display of joint marital mocking, said, "They probably carded you because the only people who buy those are underage girls."

P.S. I am still waiting on Diane for the Kevin pictures so I can show you what he did in Holiday Valley. You guys can leave comments telling her she's the worst if you want. Just don't leave comments for me telling me I'm the worst because I haven't yet posted my NCAA poetry. It is coming. I swear.

I just need to know if Dylan McKay will be there

I am currently forming my 2008 poem entry commemorating how much the NCAA screwed me. That is to come.

In the mean time we should talk about the 90210 spinoff. Have you heard about this? It's not a remake. It's a spinoff-new kids living in the 90210 zip code. The team who wrote Veronica Mars is writing it. Apparently one of the girls is somehow related to David Silver. Read this and let's discuss our feelings on this most important life event.

Tag I'm it

I was tagged a few weeks ago by the lovely ThatGirl, and I haven't had a chance to get around to it until now. I didn't want ThatGirl to think I was ignoring her! Also for me to tell you the Kevin story I really need pictures, and I think Diane has all the pictures.

Here we go... the rules:
1) Link to the person who tagged you. See above.
2) Post the rules.
3) Share six non-important things / habits / quirks about yourself.
4) Tag at least three people. No. I don't have to follow all the rules. I'm a rebel.

Six non-important things/habits/quirks about me that I haven't conveyed to you yet. I just want to note that this was incredibly hard for me as I am pretty open on this blog about what a complete jackass I am.

1. I hate coffee with the burning intensity of a thousand suns. I hate the way it tastes, I hate the way it smells, I hate the way people smell after they drink it, I hate it in those frozen foo-foo drinks. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

2. I wish I was the type of person who could wear cowboy boots all the time. Or the type who could put blue streaks in my hair. Or wear crazy makeup. And it would just be normal for me instead of like I was dressing up for Halloween.

3. Last night I broke my own rule and downloaded a Kanye West song. I hate him with a passion, but dammit "Good Life" is an awesome song. I think it's mostly awesome because of T-Pain, but still, I have to be fair. It's Kanye's song. Note to Kanye: you're still an awful person.

4. To continue the skiing stories, during one of the first times I went skiing when I was about 11, I was skiing down the hill and didn't really know how to stop all that well yet. So I just kept going and going unable to slow down or stop. Instead I just screamed. Shockingly, that didn't help me stop. But what did help me was when I ran into a giant pole. It was like a cartoon-my arms and legs wrapped around the pole, and I slid down it onto the ground. Then I was just laying on my back, arms open wide and some older lady came over. I was so happy to have a motherly type coming over to help me. I looked up at her, my savior, and she looked back at me...and laughed. She laughed at me, you guys. I was 11. Who laughs at an 11 year old kid who just ran into a pole? Someone horrible, that's who. Lady, it's 20 years later and the 11 year old in me just wants to say "Eat a cock."

5. Sunday I found out the reason for my whole mascot issues. Obviously the Easter Bunny tried to come near me, and I was instantly uncomfortable. Well, my dad started making fun of me, and my mom said, "You leave her alone. Don't you remember when she was 2 or 3, and we took her to that bank opening and she was totally traumatized by Darth Vader?" Then suddenly I remembered seeing pictures of this. I was really little, my uncle was holding me up by Darth Vader, and I was completely losing my mind. Crying, screaming, reaching for my mom. Damn you, Darth Vader! Damn you, Hayden Christensen! Damn you, George Lucas! Ooh-wait. I take that last one back. Sorry, Star Wars geeks. I promise I didn't mean it.

6. This isn't about me, but today is my sister's birthday so if you know her, wish her a happy birthday and give her a hug. You can also make fun of her if you want. That would be okay. D, you are almost 30. One more year. That's all I'm saying. Have a great day. Thanks for going to see "A Cinderella Story" in the theater with me.

Ski much?

So I'm not on vacation or anything. I've just been working my ass off late every night, and I think I'm getting sick. That is why I have been neglecting you hot pieces. So what I will do is tell you what I did at Holiday Valley a couple weeks ago.

We went on our annual ski trip which, by the way, was awesome. Lots of drinking, playing games, hot tub time and eating Cheez-its. Also I found out that I'm not that good at Beer Pong. I have never played it before. I know that's crazy, but hear me out-I hate beer. So what we did was anytime it was my turn to drink, I drank my choice of alcohol, and Tony drank my share of the beer. It's good to have a friend like Tony. Also cuz he wears his underwear in the hot tub and his job is so top secret that he can't even tell us exactly what he does. Seriously sometimes you ask him questions, and he actually has to answer, "I can't tell you that." Holy eff. No wonder he's a dynamo with the ladies. Top secret job? Hot!

Saturday during the day we went skiing. Getting ready for skiing is the biggest pain in the ass ever. But actually skiing is really fun. Especially when you're with all your friends watching each other fall.

Okay some background...

1. I have been skiing since I was about 11. My dad was adamant about his girls learning how to ski. Once when I was about 13 or 14, we were getting off the ski lift. I stood up out of the chair and immediately fell over on my stomach. I lifted my head up to look at my dad only the guy running the lift never stopped it so the next chair came and smacked me on the back of the head. I lifted my head up again-surely the lift guy had stopped the lift now, right? Wrong. Aaaand SMACK! Finally my dad screamed at me, "Keep your fucking head down!" and then turned to the lift guy and said, "Stop the fucking lift!" So ever since then I get really anxious when I'm on the chair lift and it gets close to the time when I have to get off.

2. All that day I made sure to tell everyone the story about how one time Diane was skiing and started laughing so hard she peed her pants. I told it over and over and mercilessly made fun of her.

With that, I will tell you the following. Everything was going fine. I was getting on and off the lift all day without incident. Then on one of our last runs of the day, I stood up out of the chair and immediately fell back into it. At this point I started panicking because I was still in the chair, and it was moving and it was starting to turn back down the mountain. I had visions of me riding the chair lift all the way back down to the bottom like in Bridget Jones' Diary 2. So I did the only thing I could think to do. I jumped. I was minimum 6-8 feet in the air. When I landed I immediately fell, but I think it's because I was laughing so hard. All of a sudden Diane was angrily yelling at me, "Sarah! Get up! They stopped the lift!" She was so embarassed by her clumsy older sister. So I turned around and waved at the lift guy, "Go ahead and start it! I'm okay!" Next thing I knew, the lift guy was over by me. He came up behind me, put his arms underneath my arms and literally lifted me up to standing position. I was like, "Oh my God I'm so sorry you had to do that." He was very sweet and nice and said, "Oh it's okay. It's my job." But still. You guys, I almost rode the lift all the way down the mountain, I jumped off it and then a poor high school/college age kid had to pick me up. That is horrible. And then in a karmic twist, I was laughing so hard I peed my pants a little bit.

So does a(nother) story about me being a jackass which ends in me peeing my pants make up for me being a bad blogger? If not (and even if it does), tomorrow I will tell you why Kevin was a jackass on the same trip. It was awesome.

Maybe I'm taking the Party Party part too literally

Here's what I had planned for last night:

Dance Dance Party Party
Lost
Blog about Lost
Go to bed

Here's what actually happened:

Happy hour with martinis
Dance Dance Party Party
Back to the bar for more
Keith's house with John, Keith and Dan
Played Rock Band for 2.5 hours
Got home at 2am
Ate Saltines and passed out on couch

I have no idea what the hell happened. Wait yes I do-martinis and no dinner happened. Dammit, Sarah! You know better than to drink martinis on a week night!

Let me just say, I am struggling today. Struggling real bad. My head hurts, I'm dizzy, I'm so hungry my stomach is eating its own lining-in fact, it's possible I'm still drunk. I'm not exaggerating about that. Work should be fun today. I'll tell you what, though. It was totally worth it. If just for the fact that I found out that I am an awesome Rock Band drummer. Except for when John and Dan yell out what colors I'm supposed to be hitting. And also when Keith isn't rubbing his junk on my shoulder. And not when I'm on any level higher than Easy. But seriously I'm an awesome Easy level Rock Band drummer when there are no distractions.

Isn't it moronic

I just saw some idiot step out of her car to get the mail and immediately slip and fall on her ass. What a douchebag. Oh wait. It was me.

My ass hurts.

My night at the mall

Tonight I had to run to the mall. Lately I haven't been going to the mall very much due to budget constraints inflicted upon me by the universe which won't make it so I can spend unlimited dollars on stuff without consequence. What's that about, universe? Not cool.

Anywho, I realized some things tonight:

1. Being someone who works at one of those mall kiosks has to be one of the loneliest jobs ever.

2. I know I am old because I only go to Hot Topic for Halloween costumes.

3. But I'm not so old that I don't laugh at stuff like this at Spencer's. What is up with that store by the way? It's like a third retarded, a third awesome and a third devil worshipping scary. What are you, Spencer's? P.S. I seriously want those straw glasses.

4. Claire from Heroes works at Chik-fil-A. I told the girl that she looked exactly like her. I was totally that person who just tells a stranger who she looks like. I hate those people, and now I am one. Oh well, it's not like I was like, "Hey have you ever seen Goonies? You look exactly like Sloth!"

5. Chik-fil-A makes me a better person.

6. Buying bras is almost worse than buying a bathing suit.

Let me just elaborate on that last point since the gentlemen reading this will never have to experience this. I mean if you do, that's totally cool-you'll get no judgement here. But I mean, I won't date you. Probably.

Here's the thing about bra shopping. First, it's really hard to find a bra that fits really well. Different brands' sizes are a little different just like in regular clothes. Plus you want to find one that pushes the ladies up and in a little bit. I know you always hear "lift and separate" and that's fine as long as you're not separating them so much that you can drive a semi between them. Plus you have to find the right shape of bra. You don't want to look like this:



Well I should say, I don't want to look like this. For some of you this might be your work look (John).






So all of this means that if you don't have a "favorite bra" or if every time you find a favorite bra Victoria's Fucking Secret goes and discontinues it, you have to try them on. Lots of them.

This is what I had to do tonight. Because let's just say that in the last week, I have busted anywhere from 0-2 bras. 2. I broke 2 more bras. It's not like I am that big. I mean they're a good size, but they're not superhuman. Or are they? Maybe I'm just assuming I don't have a superpower, that I have just regular human breasts. Maybe they're trying to send me a message. Tomorrow I will try preventing street crime with them. That's the only way to find out what kind of boobs I have.

Anyway, so I had to try on about a bajillion bras, and I avoided Vickie's It's-Not-So-Secret-How Expensive-You-Are because all the bras that have broken have been from there. Obviously I went to Kohl's. Because Kohl's and I are BFFs. Everything is on sale there, you guys. All the time. EVERYTHING IS ALWAYS ON SALE!! How is that possible? God I love you, Kohl's! I will kiss you full on the mouth.

So I tried on about-no exaggeration-4,200 bras. Okay that might be a slight exaggeration. Really it was more like 40. Not kidding. Boys, here is something you never think about because most of you have spent the majority of your life trying to remove bras: Bras are annoying to put on. I mean I don't want to give the impression that putting one on is so difficult that I have to get up early to accomodate it so I can make it to work on time. It's not like that. And actually after you've worn bras for a long time, it's just kind of an autopilot process. But there is a little bit of a process. Some maneuvering must take place. Some hook it in the front and then slide it around into place action. Unless you buy frontsies which, admittedly, are awesome. Especially when the guy you're fooling around with thinks it hooks in the back and you don't tell him, and then he gets all confused and frustrated. If we had time today, we would delve deeper into why I think it's funny to confuse and frustrate men during kissy time and how this might relate to why I don't have a boyfriend. Another reason I might not: blogging about bras.

Okay so the maneuvering really isn't a big deal...except for when there are tags involved. For some reason, bra tags are enormous. It's not like there's a ton of fabric there, yet the bra companies feel the need to cover half of it with a giant piece of hard cardboard with sharp edges. I was going to draw a picture of it then I kind of felt like a pervert. Suffice it to say, the tag takes up half the bra, and there's usually more than one.

Not only that, the tag never just lays flat. It's always at a weird angle so as your maneuvering into the bra, the sharp corner of the tag is stabbing you. After trying on about 38 bras, I started laughing at how scratched up my back and sides were. I mean it's really inevitable that that's going to happen when you try on that many bras. So as I was laughing about it, I tried on one more and was not paying attention to where the tag was. Suddenly it was like someone was jabbing me in the side with a nail and dragging it across towards my back. I actually yelped. Out loud. I took a look at the damage. Blood. I was bleeding. I actually drew blood trying on bras. Do you understand what this means, Internet?

I injured myself trying on bras!

That's a special kind of clutzy, you guys. I mean I have really brought it to a whole new level. I tried on one more after that, but it hurt too much and I was getting blood all over it. So I gave up.

In case it's not clear: I effing hate bra shopping. And it hates me.

Juliet should "Get Lost". See what I did there? Word play.

Spoilers ahead

So here's my problem with last night's episode. I still don't like Juliet all that much. Yeah she is a captive and everything just like them, but she still knows so effing much that she's not telling anyone, and it seriously pisses me off. So a whole episode of her was too much for me. Although it did manage to add even another layer of creepy to Ben: "You're mine"? Um...ew!

So Mr. Whidmore is the guy looking for Ben. I think a lot of us thought this might be the case, but obviously the reason he's looking for him isn't entirely clear. All Ben does is lie all the time so we can't take his word for it. How stupid is Locke by the way. I mean seriously. Ben plays him like a fiddle and gets him to do whatever he wants always-just like Locke's dad. It's a horrible pattern in Locke's life which I hate because I think Locke is so much stronger than he thinks he is. Also he's always on the edge of being totally batshit insane, and I want him to scare Ben because of that. It annoys the crap out of me that no one scares Ben. I hope by the end of the series we get to see Ben get his comeuppance. And I hope it's from either Jack or Locke. And if it's Jack I hope he's shirtless.

Speaking of Jack, how long must I endure he and Kate making out with other people instead of each other? Last night when he kissed Juliet, I almost puked. Are you kidding me, Lost writers? Fucking Juliet? She sucks! No. Just no.

I LOVE the idea that the Boat People are on the island to help our Losties wage a war with Ben. Love it so much. So how's about some answers, writers? Why are they after Ben? Seriously what is the squirrely scientist guy's story? Farrity? Is that his name? I need to know more about him immediately.

Looks like we're getting some Sun and Jin action next week. I'm so excited. I miss our original Losties. Claire got some love last night, but I was really hoping we'd get to see her questioning Miles. And seriously when will she find out that she and Jack are related? I can't take it anymore.

All in all another solid episode-just no more Juliet and Jack please. Ever again. It makes me homicidal.

Working from home

Girl Scouts don't do that

Today might be a multiple post day. I'm working from home and hanging out with my dog who just pooped in my neighbors yard. It feels like a multiple post day.

I bought Girl Scout cookies from John's daughter. I wrote him a check. Look what he wrote in the Memo line:















Here's my question: What kind of sexual favor costs $10.50?