PUTTING THE HO IN HOLIDAYS

People are either at their worst or their best during then holiday season. There's just no middle ground whatsoever. I should know; for the last couple of weeks I've been surrounded by evil stressed-out mommies, last minute shoppers and 'roided-out foreign men. For me, these people have been putting the "HO" in holidays and making them horrible for me. And as if the days leading up to Christmas weren't enough, people feel the need to abuse this ho-ey attitude up to and through New Year's. Valentine's Day DOESN'T count as a real holiday, people!! Let's be done with the overt rudeness and crappy attitudes by Dec. 31, okay?? All your resolutions should be to act nicer to the all the people in the service industry that help you out on a daily basis.

Some examples of the chaos I've been dealing with lately:

A woman is talking loudly on her cell phone in Spanish and asking me to help her out in Spanglish, all the while I can't get her attention and I can't really tell if she's talking to me or the person on the other line. She expects me to help her while she's on her phone.

A man answers to the name Nathalie, party of 4 while on the phone but once I've brought him and his girlfriend over to their table, I asked, "So, you're expecting two more?" And of course they say no. I ask, "You're not Nathalie party of 4?" And so the girlfriend rolls her eyes at the idiot guy and says, "Baby, why did you answer to Nathalie? I'm so sorry. Put the phone down!" See? If women ran the world...

It starts to get really windy outside, and of course no one wants to sit outside. I take a man, his pregnant wife, and their small daughter out to the terrace, and they say they want to sit inside. I tell them, like I've been coached, that it will be at least 15 minutes for a table inside. They sit down at a random table inside and I tell them that unfortunately we're saving that particular table, and that I need them to follow me back to the front desk. They start bitching at me, getting seriously pissed off, saying, "But we have a small daughter! I'm pregnant!" As if those are two things I wouldn't have noticed. If she'd said "But I have a small mole on my foot! I've got turberculosis!" Those may have been two things I would NOT have noticed right away. Thanks, Captain Obvious. So I tell them I'll grab a manager to explain the situation, apologizing profusely the whole time and trying very hard not to scream and wring this woman's neck. SO then I talk to my manager and he tells me it's not worth fighting with them, so I should just leave them there. So now I look like a HUGE ASSHOLE not only for arguing with a pregnant woman but also for telling them no and then my boss telling them yes.

Several ladies come in on Christmas Eve Day, and ask for 3 dozen vegan cupcakes, and are more than a little offput by the fact that it takes an additional 5 MINTUES to frost that number for them. They didn't call ahead or anything, they just came in and expected us to have that number of VEGAN cupcakes.

I seat this man and woman at a (I'll admit, rather small) table and they immediately start bitching at me that they want a booth (a commodity they did NOT ask for when they put their name in). So I tell them it may be at least 15 minutes, and that they will need to follow me back up to the front desk, because we need the table they are at for another party. So they don't really tell me what they want, but continue to sit there. They decide to just take the next booth that opens up, even though we never told them they could and they never told us that they indeed wanted to move. We have to tell them that unfortunately, they can't just take any table they damn well please. It would be a freaking mess if that's the way we ran things. Duh.

A man and a woman are led outside to a table, but they wish to sit inside. I tell them to follow me back up to the front desk so I can get them a table inside. The man decides to sit at a high top table, which are self-seating. Ten minutes later, the woman is still sitting outside, and the man is at the high top table. Both have ordered drinks and have no fucking clue that the other is at a different table. Talk about bad communication.

And I could literally go on for days and days but I don't have the physical capacity to re-live all these events. So go ahead, yuck it up, and just be glad if you haven't suffered through HALF of these experiences.

xoxo

MOM'S ROCK

Okay, so this is what I saw emblazoned across the front of a T-shirt for sale at the Children's Place today. I read it to myself, and instantly rolled my eyes. If there's one thing I do well, it is look into store windows. Actually, usually I actually go in and buy things and only have buyer's remorse later when the credit card bills come rolling in, but I digress...So yes, here it is, on a table with other shirts just like it, the "Mom's Rock" shirt. It was folded but I'm assuming there was not a graphic of a big diamond ring that this so-called "Mom" would have worn on her finger. Plus, what child is bragging about "Mom's Rock?" 5-year-olds could give a shit about color, clarity and carats. So, we are led to believe that this national children's store chain has used improper grammar on a T-shirt they sell to consumers in their stores. This is pretty un-fucking believable to me. Number one, what company doesn't get someone to edit their graphics before printing them on thousands of products? Number two, this shirt is now going into the hands of dumb adults and impressionable children, and this will lead them to incorrectly overuse the dreaded apostrophe. Some may think I'm taking this a little too seriously, but don't you think it shows the depth of how far idiocy spans here in the U.S.? We're already overspending and obese, we can't really afford to add all-around dumbass to that list. No wonder every other country despises us. Well. Enough about that, but seriously, if you are writing anything for the public eye you should watch your spelling and your grammar. If you can't spell and your shit's all over the place, even if you are the greatest writer in the world or are selling the world's greatest product, people WILL think less of you. So go back to sixth grade and pay attention this time. It's not too hard. "Mom's Rock" is referring to the rock that belongs to Mom. "Moms Rock" is telling mothers everywhere how awesome they are. See?? Two VERY VERY different meaning.

On a completely unrelated note, today one of my coworkers was talking about how he was going home for a few days but that it wouldn't really be a vacation. I asked him why, and he said, "You know, because I have to perform for my family and all." To which I replied, " Really? My family sees me at my absolute worst..." And this started me thinking. How nice is it to have a family that tells it like it is but isn't pointing out all your flaws or inability to be thrillingly successful? My family doesn't judge me, but takes me at face value: when I'm sad, when I'm angry, when I'm hurt, when I'm elated. I never have to lie to my family, or gloss over the bad parts of my life. I never feel like I have to pretend to be someone I'm not. They support me 100% in what I do, and never inquire as to why I'm still single, or why I don't weigh 125 pounds, or why my hair is usually a hotmess. They take me for me, and let me know that they love me just the way I am. Everyone should have such a family that knows and has known so much love that they always feel at home when they are with each other. My father always instilled in us the fact that it was important to be kind to and love your siblings. I'm SO glad that this was such an important thing for him to share with us, because look at us now! I live 3000 plus miles away but I keep in touch with my family on a very consistent basis. I love them all so so much and I am so happy to have them all in my life.

So I leave you with this. This holiday season, tell your family and friends and all the people you love just how much they mean to you. They may know it, but sometimes saying it out loud can reaffirm the feeling for someone when they really need it. We only get one go 'round at this thing called life, so we might as well surround ourselves with wonderful people who make US better people. Live long, and prosper!! And love with all your little hearts.

Happy Holidays and talk to you all in the New Year!!

xoxo

Lizz

REALLY??!!!

So, a man walks into a cupcake shop with no intention of buying anything. He asks the cashier in barely understable, mumbled English, "How much?" and the girl proceeds to tell him the prices of the various items. He launches into some diatribe about how having the prices listed on a framed piece of paper above the treats may not be the best option, as some people may be shy and won't ask what things are if they don't know, and if they don't know the price then maybe they won't buy. The girl said to him, "Well, I know all the prices, sir, so if you have a specific question I will be happy to help you out." The man asked a series of questions while looking at the cashier but appearing to be having a conversation with himself. The girl answered the questions like a well-trained Miss America contestant: she took what she thought she heard, mixed with frequently asked questions, and answered with a cheery smile. Then the man left without buying anything, off to terrorize the next shop on the block. The girl sat down with a dramatic eye roll and sigh, and resumed putting together boxes.

Let's just say a little poetic license was used in this story, but that the actual events did happen. To me. This is just a small sample of the shit I have to deal with on a daily basis. It's getting to the point where it doesn't even phase me anymore, because it is simply material for a book I'm writing on what NOT to do. I mean, it is really surprising to me that with all the heinous, ignorant, rude idiots in the world that I've managed (for the most part) to surround myself with some of the most lovely, understanding, intelligent and talented people. Thank goodness, because if I only had dipshits to tell me what to do, I too would be a dipshit. This is why any of the friends I ever had that were dipshits in disguise are no longer my friends and also no longer in disguise: they are full-blown, no questions asked fucking idiots.

So, all you lovely people, let's take a minute to celebrate all the things that make us wonderful. I may not be perfect, but I would NEVER walk IN FRONT of a hostess trying to seat me at a table. I would never steal someone's parking spot. I would never be so ignorant as to think I knew everything about something. I would never push around a stroller the size of a small car through a crowded lobby. (Seriously?? Just leave your kids at home with a babysitter. They will appreciate Kraft mac and cheese just as much as (or maybe more than) anything you could buy them in a restaurant. Plus, it will cost you so much less, you can afford to go get ice cream or catch a movie after.) I would NEVER hear someone call Faisal party of 6 and follow a hostess to a table if my name was Joseph and I had a party of 3.

Okay, enough. The first job of the day is coming to close and it is time for my daily nap in my car. I'll talk later, and hopefully you all will go out in search of non-dipshits worldwide.

I JUST MADE YOU SAY UNDERWEAR...

First of all, something funky happened with my computer the other night (like, last week) and this post was never published. Enjoy!!

So I put my underwear on inside out this morning as I was rushing to get dressed and leave the house WAY after I intended. It would be okay if it were the first time this has happened, but, unfortunately I can't say that. It has happened on several other occasions, and I'm not really sure how I do it in the first place! (And, I should mention, I didn't even notice it until about my third time in the restroom today...) It's not as if my vagina really gives a shit about which way my panties lie, but I sure do. I felt like such an idot* today when I looked down and realized why they weren't 100% comfortable when I had put them on earlier. Um, duh!!

...But you have to give me points for at least WEARING underwear in the first place, right? I mean, I could have forgotten like that time in kindergarten when I was still VERY shy, and I didn't notice until I got to school that oops! I didn't have any underwear on... And of course my Dad had to get to the hospital and my mom was working, and oh the horror; I, of course, was wearing a dress. Everyone was asking, "Elizabeth, what's wrong?", Since I recall standing very still in one place and I'm sure I nervously looked around and had cheeks the color of September Red Delicious apples (especially since I'm KNOWN to get WICKED BAD hives when I'm nervous). Anyway, my mom came to save me and of course my teacher asked, "Why didn't you say anything?", I wasn't really sure THEY should be teaching or monitoring ANYTHING, let alone impressionable, human children, since COME ON! MATTERS DEALING WITH UNDERWEAR OR THE LACK THEREOF ARE VERY PERSONAL!!

And that is why I am sharing these stories here, with you.

Long stor(ies) not so short, underwear holds a very special place in my heart. I don't know that I've ever gone commando in my life (NO thank you, dreaded jeans against vag chafing--I already have enough thigh to thigh chafing as it is thanks to my healthy appetite and as-of-late-not-so-hearty workout routines), but I know some that do. I happen to actually really enjoy underwear, and previous years' credit card statements will echo this sentiment. I love lace, frills, colors, matching, comfortable and made-for-show. It doesn't matter if I'm the only one who sees it; I love putting on something pretty underneath my clothes. It just adds to the package that I see, and helps me feel sexy. It goes along with doing my hair and makeup; if I FEEL good, then I am much more confident and I am more poised, and I enjoy myself more. Who would have thought underwear would have had such a profound impact on my life??

This post wasn't meant to be all about unmentionables, but I couldn't help but run my mouth about all the pantilicious things that came to mind when I saw my silly mistake today. On another note, I got a legitimate bed and a computer desk from a friend who was heading out of town and back home-for $100, which I figured was awesome since #1, no more sleeping on the air mattress, #2 he helped me move it and #3 it cost me approximately $900 less than BUYING a new bed would have. And although I may still invest in a canopy bed frame somewhere down the line (let's face it, I am and always will be a princess), I'm much more content for the time being and I consider the $100 money well spent. And I think I will sleep much better. And I need to what with going from job to job and being out of the house from 9:30 AM to 10:30 PM!! But seriously, I am getting to love my new coworkers at both jobs and a little espresso in the AM helps me get through the day without crying and I never have "that 2:30 feeling." If anything, it's a 7:30 feeling. AND of course I love that I'm making money. I set myself up a budget that I truly feel I can stick to, plus it has a little wiggle room each month. It also allows me to pay my mom back for the blue car, put a decent sum of money in a long-term and short-term savings account, AND have a little sum to put in a "ladies' nice things" account for a rainy day purchase of, say, leopard print shooties or something equally as fun and unnecessary.

I am finishing up my dinner of raspberries, as I found I wasn't even really hungry for a full dinner. I have a little Keith Jarrett/Charlie Haden playing in the background, and I may just light a few candles and read a few chapters of this Jennifer Weiner book I took out from the library.

*idot= a word that was created when my sister and I were passing angry notes to each other and her idiot morphed into idot. Thus, idot has become a nicer way of calling someone an idiot, not unlike the gaming term, "n00b."

I SWEAR, I WILL TASE YOU...!!!!

First off, let me say that I could SO cut a bitch right now. I'm trying very hard to calm down, but it seems like today just ISN'T my day. (Also, as a side note, is TASE a verb, or do you say TASER, as in "She tasered me..." or she tased me?")

These are the events of the day. I got in bed fairly early last night and finished "Eat, Pray, Love" which I found to be a great read and an intriguing story. I shut off my light after a little solitaire action on my iPod and I proceeded to fall into a deep luxurious slumber...and then...

DUMDINGDADUMBABADABADUMWHNISDFHN:SDGIHSD;GOIHSGLOIDFGB;FLGIJN;DFGLJN;KGBIJDSG;K

...And I though I was having a nightmare. But no, it was coming from the floor below me. It was as if someone had decided to play friggin' Guns and Roses at 2:45 AM INTO my cochlea. If music could be administered intravenously, this was what it would feel like. But in a bad way. I tried to ignore it, but, alas, I could not. I got pissed when I looked at the clock and saw I only had 3 more hours to sleep until I had to get up and get ready for training at 8 at one of my newly acquired jobs. I went outside and determined that it was, in fact, coming from the floor below me, and interestingly enough, you could hardly hear it from outside. Yet, in my room, it was like a personal concert. So I thought about banging on the door but between the ear crackling noise and knock-proof grate screen door, I was pretty much out of luck. So I begrudgingly got up at 6:30 (after cursing at my cell phone and at my unknown neighbor/evil villain) and showered and got ready. Oh, but you bet your ass that while I wolfed down my cereal I composed a note both forceful and kind and taped it to my neighbor's door. It went something along the lines of this (what can I say, I have a way with words...)

To whom it may concern,

I was awoken early this morning around 3 AM to the sounds of extremely loud hard rock music coming from your apartment. I attempted to use ear plugs and move into a different room, but the music was so loud that I couldn't sleep. Is there any way that, in the future you could refrain from playing loud music at night and keep these habits to the daylight and waking hours? I understand wanting to absorb as much music as possible, whenever you can, as I am both a musician and a music lover myself. However, I think it is a little inconsiderate to play music so loud and so early. Thanks so much, I appreciate it.

Sincerely,

Your tired upstairs neighbor

I was really very nice about the whole thing, I think. So you BET if this happens again I WILL bang on the door and file a noise complaint with both the POPO and the landlord. Because it's just not cool. I'm sure they wouldn't like it if I started blasting Justin Bieber at 3 AM. Actually....that's not a bad way to get back at them if this happens again. I feel like Justin Bieber is a weapon to be used sparingly because it can have great power. And that power can have grave consequences if it falls into the wrong hands (Evil cackle).

Anyhow, so I get up and go to this job and they tell me that I was scheduled for 5 PM which was ENTIRELY inaccurate as I LITERALLY copied down 8-2 as the STORE MANAGER told me when to come in Monday. So there were 4 of us training, and somehow 2 of the people got to come in at 8:30 and the rest of them ALL got to leave an hour before me...WTF??? SERIOUSLY, UNIVERSE? If I hadn't HATED the training and the way I was being spoken to/treated MAYBE staying an extra hour wouldn't have been so bad. But it was. At the end of the day, I decided that if I'm GOING to have a third retail job at a clothing store, it's going to be at Express since I like the company, know the product and I'm great at the job. So I leave, and have to pay $14 for parking. Woo frickin' hoo. Of course then I have to get gas, and I'm watching the money drain from my accounts.

So I get home, and know I have a few hours to do laundry before I go see my friend Althea perform at the Viper Room. Oh, so I take all my stuff down to the laundry room but forget my sheets. So I grab them. I shove all my darks in the washing machine and put in detergent and put in my quarters and GUESS WHHAT? YUP. THE WASHING MACHINE ISN'T WORKING. AND YOU BET YOUR ASS I PRIED MY QUARTERS OUT OF THERE BECAUSE I'M TOO BROKE TO WASTE A DOLLAR.

So by then I'm beyond pissed. When I get angry like that, angry enough to punch the next person who even so much as LOOKS at me, it is better to just sympathize with me and hate the world together than try to rationalize everything because then I will just want to punch YOU in the face. So I decided to find a laundromat nearby after little help, and realized that was all fine and good but that I wouldn't have any reading material and I'd be BORED. So what's happening is I'm going to the library before the show, the show and then the laundromat because the show is at 8 and the laundromat closes at 11.

I got all dolled up, because usually lots of makeup and a cute outfit make me feel a LITTLE better. And I can't really say that it's working, but I'm going to take a few deep breaths and maybe do some sun salutations. Did I mention I spilled black eyeshadow ALL over my floor while trying to do my makeup? Let's see if I can make it through the rest of the night SANS another mini catastrophe. Oh me oh my. Alright, I'm going to get going.

Hopefully tomorrow will bring a less stressful, more enjoyable day!!!

GAH!!

P.S. I forgot to add that the strap to my laundry bag broke as I was carrying it back up to my apartment. And, on the way to the show it took me 40 minutes to find street parking that wasn't 2 miles away.

BUT... Althea sang beautifully and the show was great. AND Elissa treated me and Eric to pizza afterwards which was basically the best ending to an awful day. And now I am having a single serve ice cream, and then literally going to bed after I wash this garish makeup off. Tomorrow AM, I'm driving to the laundromat early and while my laundry is going, I'm going to run. Then, I'm going to go home and shower, stop by the library and go to work! Tomorrow is going to be stellar.

WELCOME TO THE HOTEL CALIFORNIA

Did you know that there legitimately IS a Hotel California here in LA? It is actually in Santa Monica; I drove by it the other day after my interview at this new French Bistro where I'm hoping that I will be working by Monday (please, please, PLEASE call tomorrow and tell me I got the job....I NEED to start making $$ hardcore!)

Right now I am eating dinner at 11:00 PM, even though I'm feeling a little sick to my stomach due to earlier Kit Kat bingeing. (At this point, I think if I even LOOK at a Kit Kat wrapper, I'll be praying to the porcelain god in no time). However, my sandwich is providing me with various nutrients that I didn't quite get with the chocolate and wafers earlier. I've taken several naps today, due to the fact that I (no lie) was up tossing and turning last night because I could NOT for the life of me quiet my mind. I was thinking about getting a job and possible cat names for cats that I don't even know if I will adopt. REALLY, LIZZ?? Do you think Anastacia and Princess Pignatelli are dumb cat names? I mean, yeah, they're a little dumb but I also think they are kinda cute. I wanted to go with Mary, Queen of Scots or something for one of the cats, but I feel like if I named a cat that I would have to deal with the fact that the cat would hate me as if it were a human and its name was Ijus Peed Myself or something along those lines. Or Steven Stevenson.

Regardless, I have been told that if I DO decide to adopt kittens, I will not only become a crazy cat lady but that I won't get a man because I'll just stay at home with the cats all the time and not want to meet any actual people. I don't know what I think about this. Part of me wants to say it isn't true, but maybe part of me IS really lonely, and I certainly don't want to limit my chances of finding great friends and relationships because hanging out with my cats is easier.

I hung out with two Berklee friends today at the La Brea Tar Pits....it is so weird. The tar literally bubbles up from under the Earth and archaeologists find tons of prehistoric fossils in them!! How cool?! My friends were joking with me about how they thought I was a lesbian since I didn't date very much in college. They were just kidding, but here's the thing: Yes, okay, duh I haven't dated that much in my short life so far. It's not that I'm not open to it, because of course I am. However, I've dated a mix of guys in the past, or TRIED to date a mix of guys in the past, and it is either one thing or another: I'm not really that attracted to them (Come ON, we've all had desperate moments every now and then), they are still in love with someone else, they are unavailable(emotionally or otherwise), they run away screaming in the other direction (still can't figure this one out and it bothers me) etc etc etc. Now I'm proud to say that for the first time in my life, since about six or so months ago, I'm okay being alone. I don't NEED to be chasing someone to feel okay about myself or feel that I have a purpose. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE to have someone to crush on, but I'm finally actually okay being single. I don't think there's something wrong with me anymore because I've never had a legitimate boyfriend. The right person just hasn't come along. I've got high standards, sure, but I'm also very easy to please. In no way am I a diva or a golddigger. Sure, I'm a little high maintenance, but I can also be very low maintenance and at least I REALIZE that I'm not perfect, okay?? Sometimes I think I just see myself in this wholly unflattering light where I think no one could possibly love me between the fact that I have baggage and that I'm not the perfect supermodel specimen.

I have to start reminding myself that it is okay not to be perfect, and that I am very desirable despite my flaws, or maybe even BECAUSE of them. I've learned grace in times of tragedy and loss. I am TRYING to keep healthy despite not being able to afford a gym membership at this juncture and bingeing on Kit Kat bars (Seriously I don't know if I'll be eating chocolate for a while). Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I'm surprised at the girl I see there. She looks intelligent, attractive, poised, content and charming and I'm not always sure who she is and she got there. Why is it that we can take compliments from others but when we tell ourselves how wonderful we are we never listen?? I'm starting a new period of self-realization and strong self-worth. Fist pump, ladies, here's our new mantra... "I AM STRONG. I AM BEAUTIFUL. I AM INTELLIGENT. I HAVE THE POWER IN MY HANDS. NO ONE CAN MAKE ME FEEL INFERIOR WITHOUT MY CONSENT."

And that is our lesson for today. The letter was "S" for self-confidence and the number was 1, because let's face it, we all should be #1 in our own eyes.

AND SO IT GOES...

Being a perfectionist has never been easy. You know how they say, "Don't sweat the small stuff?" I've always sweated the small stuff so hard that if I WERE actually sweating, I would liken the perspiration to that which comes from a Bikram Yoga class, or sitting on a camel in the desert in 115+ degree heat. The good thing, though, is that as much as I believe in the quest for perfection, or rather, ultimate happiness, I also believe in perseverance, a word that I learned how to spell and define in third grade.

This is my process, and, you know, all artists have a process. I go after what I want, shyly at first, taking care not to step on any toes in the way. Then I get burned, even if ever so slightly. I cry a little, have a bitty "woe is me" pity party and then I 'pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again...' The next cycle of the process I attack what I want with increased ferocity, etc etc until I either get what I want or exhaust all possibilities trying. If I don't get what I want after all that I will usually need a grieving period to go through my stages which include listening to angry, bass-booming songs that give me enough adrenaline to be the next Million Dollar Baby, eating pizza and ice cream and crying a lot. And writing some songs. Okay, maybe "some" is an understatement. But regardless, I am usually able to revert back to my normal self after this process. I've done it with boys, jobs, opportunities, broken friendships and deaths. The whole death thing is the worst because it creeps up on you when you least expect it and, at least in my case, hits you hard for unexpected periods of time and you can't do crap except feel all the feelings and come to terms with your current situation.

What I'm trying to say is two things, I guess. Number one, even though my ballsy move-across-the-country life change is going a little differently than I had envisioned, I KNOW that SOMEHOW I will be okay. I'll find a more permanent living situation, a job that pays, and I will get to work on my craft, however it may transpire. Number two, dealing with my father's death is THE HARDEST thing I've ever done (and I imagine the hardest thing I'll ever have to do) and it has me feeling like a scarred, wounded, broken soul. I ask myself, as I lie in bed, deliciously spent and ready for sleep yet kept awake by thoughts of my father and how his death has affected every aspect of my life, will I ever be okay? I can't imagine someone wanting to love someone who will never be completely whole again. All I have to give is everything I have, but everything I have isn't what I had a year ago. (How's THAT for a tongue twister?)

Sometimes, I try to con my mind into believing that what I know to be the truth is a lie. I sit in the shower, eyes shut, telling myself that I'm somewhere else, and that my father is still alive. I know better, though, because even if I give in to my temporary illusion, the reality isn't far behind. I think often about how my life has changed since January and how few true friends I have left after the aftershock of my father's death among other things. I try to continue living my life as close to the same as possible, keeping my father's spirit in mind with the choices I make. I was JUST able this week to remove the picture of my mom, dad, brother and sister from my profile on facebook and replace it with me and a few friends. I still have his number in my phone, and even though the number is disconnected, I still can't bring myself to delete it. Whenever I watch Grey's Anatomy I always end up crying because somehow Patrick Dempsey reminds me of my dad and my heart wrenches a little bit whenever I see him on screen. This isn't meant to make anyone feel bad, or make anyone's heart hurt anymore. These are just words I needed to get out, good or bad.

There are a lot of things I am unsure of. For instance, why do I get an abundance of new pimples when I am trying out my low-maintenance/no-makeup phase? Is this a cruel joke? Why do I always seem to have an increased admiration for SNL's Jason Sudeikis when I'm not crushing on anyone? (Actually, I know that answer. It's because A) I am a creepy stalker and B) because I need SOMEONE to set my sights on, ya know?) Why do I leave New England for LA and EVERY DAY is overcast and rainy so far? Why did the real Matthew McConaughey and Ashton Kutcher just add me as a friend on Myspace (SO random, I know)? Why does it take me FOREVER to become motivated enough to get up and exercise in the morning when I KNOW it is good for me and it feels SO GOOD when I'm doing it?

Like I said, silly or not, there are many things which I am unsure of. My father's death and the events and circumstances surrounding it, of course. I questions many of my choices every day, but I'm just glad to know that at the end of the day, even though my emotions might get the better of me, I am comfortable with who I am. My moral compass is pointed in (mostly) the right direction, and I never worry that I'm going to end up blackout drunk in a ditch somewhere with some guy's name tattooed on my ass. Well, let's hope not, anyway.

Long story short, I have faith in myself. If I want something bad enough, I will make it happen. It may not be the way YOU would do it, and it might make you CRAZY that I do what I do the way I do it, but that's why it's me doing it and not you. I'm going to find an apartment, and a job, and I'm going to get my music thang up and running. To everyone that is looking out for me, thank you for all your support! I so appreciate it even though I might not tell you all the time.

By the way, a rap about Karen is still on the way...I just want to wait until I get my keyboard out again so the juices will start flowing! And believe me....it will be stellar.

OKAY, SO WHERE WERE WE...?

So the last time we checked in I believe we were at the end of our day in Denver, CO. Exhausted from driving and shopping and Karen's constant sluttiness, we fell asleep early and slept well. We woke up at 4:15 on Saturday morning to begin our drive into Vegas, baby!! We knew it would be a long day but we made pretty decent time. Here are some highlights...

Heather was a crazypants head case at the beginning of the drive as we were driving at a high elevation at a steep grade in the pitch black between mountains in Colorado that morning. We drove through Vail, Aspen, and various other cities. It was crazy how cold it was in Colorado when we stopped for gas and coffee-I almost wished I had brought a winter jacket!! I'm sure I looked a hot mess that day anyway since my outfit consisted of a pink bandana headband, jeans, zipper-flower tank, black cardigan and Heather's green army-style jacket. I drove the second leg, which brought us through Utah-which, actually, was a beautiful state. Miles and miles and miles of the same surroundings in a car would drive anyone crazy, but the view was beautiful. There was such a stretch of no real towns that we sort of just drove at whatever speed we wanted however we wanted...I don't think my car enjoyed driving 85/90...but I sure did! No police officer in his/her right mind would EVER sit out there waiting for someone to speed...it could be DAYS before anyone came through!! For sure, the best part of Utah was the town called Beaver. Yes, Beaver, Utah, which the sign proclaimed was "MOUNTAINS OF FUN," and had "THE BEST TASTING WATER IN THE U.S.," and had "I LOVE BEAVER" T-shirts in the gift shop. I was actually surprised that Heather was the ONLY one doubled over laughing on the ground when she saw that. I guess Utahans love Beaver so much that not only do they have a town in honor of it, but there is a separate county as well. So much Beaver and so little time.

After leaving Beaver, we were hoping for an Ass, Utah, but alas that was not the case. We had stopped at a Subway for a quick lunch and, unfortunately, we all ended up with intense SHEETZ. Kristi said she noticed the kid who was making our sandwiches had wet hair at the nape of his neck an she told herself he was freshly showered. She said, "It's bad enough he was a ginger!!" I said they were probably checking him anally with a thermometer every hour because his fever had to have been about 104. Regardless, those sandwiches did NOT sit well and of course I had to be a glutton and order a footlong when a simple 6" would have sufficed. Instead, we had stomach daggers for a few hours while the bad sandwiches passed. Needless to say we will NOT be ordering 6"ers or footlongs for a VERY LONG TIME. At least not the sandwich kind.

We passed Salt Lake City and some other towns before crossing into Arizona for about fifteen minutes before entering Nevada! Arizona appeared to look a lot like Utah but was very picturesque as well. We finally got to Vegas around 5:30 PM, and went to go meet my aunt and cousins to say hi and get a key for my other aunt's place we were staying at. We rested for a bit, did some much needed laundry and took showers before having a FANTASTIC dinner at Bouchon in the Venetian, courtesy of Minder. It was SO GOOD. They literally treated us like kings; bringing over WICKED GOOD champagne and SHOTS OF TEQUILA. Kristi made me drink hers. Oh my. We had garnet yam puree soup which was the best soup any of us had ever had. They brought over a Bibb salad, a beet salad, a calamari salad and a beef carpaccio appetizer. There were steaks, fish, and chicken for dinner and I LITERALLY took three bites of my steak and it was awesome but I was so stuffed to the gills I couldn't handle it. And as much as we wanted to, none of us could order any dessert.

We then met up with some of Minder's friends who had gotten us a table at the night club Tao at the Venetian. Let's just put some stuff on the table here. Normally, at Tao, you have to wait in line before they let you in. Then, if you want a table, you have to have reserved it, and get this: a table means you pay for a bottle (of booze) which is $425. Yes, you heard me. A normal bottle of something like Ketel One might retail for between 30 and 50 bucks and these crazypants people pay over $400. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM??? Especially since the club is cool, don't get me wrong, but no normal person should have to pay $425 to get laid. It's just wrong. But they do it! And they do it with a smile on their faces! More than once a week! If I were going to spend $425 on something foolish, it would have to have a red bottom and be sold at Barney's in the shoe department. If I want to get drunk and sleep with a loser, I can just hit up a liquor store and stand on a street corner. There was so much beaver we saw that Kristi decided instead of "The City of Sin," Vegas should be "The City Where Beaver Is Boss." I kinda have to agree. Some 50-year-old lady in the bathroom was wearing a dress so short that when she raised her arms around her head to proclaim that she wasn't wearing any panties because she peed on them, her beaver was out for the world to see. There were beavers being grabbed all over the club, and beavers coming out of their dams because I guess wearing underwear is simply a suggestion, not an obligation. One of Minder's friends left me with this random guy because she wanted him to buy us (her) drinks but then didn't want to stay and talk to him, and some random guy came over and was talking to me. Oh, and quite possibly the best part? Some guy asked Kristi whether she wanted him to sneeze in her mouth. I mean, of all the weird fetishes to have....REALLY?!?!? The highlight of the night was surely Bouchon, and I DID win $30 at a stupid slot machine. Put in $20, won $50. I play the idiot games because there's no thinking involved and it's an easy win and an easy loss. Plus, it's a workout for my fingers to press the buttons.

We got home at 3:00 AM. My aunt was SUCH a trooper, as were Heather and Kristi. I'M not even out til 3:00 hardly EVER. I am SUCH a homebody. I can't do the club scene that often- it just exhausts me and usually makes me feel like shit because I'm just not one of those girls who likes to rub herself all over someone just to get my rocks off. Thanks, but I'd rather just dance. We got between 3 and 5 hours of sleep before we got up at 8 to leave for LA. We had heard that traffic between the two cities was sometimes brutal on Sundays, especially on holiday weekends, so we wanted to get a head start. It took us only about 4.5 hours to get there, and we spent some extra time driving Pacific Coast Highway from Santa Monica until we got to Kristi's sister's house in Westlake Village. Traffic wasn't too bad, actually, and we hung out by the pool for a little bit because we were SO OVER driving and ready for some R&R. We took naps, and later Heather and I got BBQ at Baby Blues BBQ in Hollywood but not before Karen took us down an alley to get to our destination and we saw a dead/passed out man in the street in front of a truck. Lovely. And, as we were walking to dinner, a black man called out to me, calling me a Jewish American Princess and (I'm sure) talking about my bootyliciousness. Heather of course freaked out, but I had to explain to her that in Boston, that sort of thing was a weekly occurence. I can't help it that I've got junk in my trunk! Or maybe I can...but at least for right now this ass isn't getting any smaller...

Heather didn't feel well so we took our food to go. It was actually good BBQ but we weren't very impressed with the cornbread. I slept a full eight hours and let me tell you, it felt SO GOOD. Today, we went to see the stars on the sidewalk by the Chinese Theatre and we walked around Venice Beach. We came back and Kristi and Heather re-concocted a few previous supper club recipes including the corn with the feta cheese which I LOVED the first time and it was really good this time too. They have to be at the airport early tomorrow and I'm driving, so I'm going to try and get a good night's sleep again tonight to be well rested for some apartment hunting tomorrow! I'm going to keep the blog going about my trials and tribulations here in LA past the road trip, so be sure to check back now and then to keep up with what's going on with me! Thanks for reading!

NEBRASKA EXTRAS AND DENVAH, BABY...

Okay, so to start off, here are the pics from yesterday above...as well as the ones from today. Video is down below. Please watch them in their entirety, as they are freaking hilarious. Or at least we think so.

And then for today. We actually left Lincoln right on time- around 8 AM. We grabbed a little Panera for the road and then started back out on the world's flattest interstate with the world's most boring scenery. There were no more Kum & Gos, but we found various other gems along the way that I think are best just described via picture, really. We stopped at Penny's Diner in North Platte, Nebraska today and we got burgers and pie. Kristi said the cherry pie was the worst she ever had and it tasted like dish soap. We put the half eaten plate in front of Karen to make it look like she didn't like it and that's why we left it half-eaten.

Today went basically according to schedule and it wasn't a bad drive. We hit a bitty thunderstorm as Heather's palms were sweating and she was freaking out about being sucked into a tornado funnel like Dorothy and Toto. It was very Eeyore-esque; for five minutes you'd be in cloudless blue sky and then for another five you'd have a huge thundercloud hanging over your head, and ample lightning.

We were feeling a bit uncomfortable after the 8-hour plus ride so we got out to walk across the street to the Holiday Inn for dinner, passing the infamous bar with the titty shows on the side. Dinner was eh, but what do you expect from the Holiday Inn I guess? There was a quinceanera going on the hotel, with a bunch of preteen girls dressed like strippers with Snooki hair. We decided that we are going to open up a restaurant called Elbow, which will serve many options of macaroni and macaroni only. And maybe some pie too. Coconut Creme and other tasty kinds. That won't taste like dish soap.

On our way to the Super Target across the street from our hotel room, we came across a bunny and a store called Fantasties which sold stripper heels and sexy Halloween costumes and frilly panties. Karen got her freak on and tried on some stuff. She was still pissed we didn't stop at the Lion's Den yesterday for her adult videos. After Fantasties we went to Target and had a great time- we made a little ode to Britney Spears and all things schoolgirl trash charm.

Back at the hotel, we jumped into the hot tub which felt amazing. And now we are hitting the hay EARLY so we can wake up at 4:15 tomorrow to be in Vegas in time to rest for a bit, shower and PARTYYYYYY!!!!