Travel: OMFG. Only in Vegas

I have to blog completely about Vegas later, but for now, let me set the scene. Imagine you are my friend Andrea. You’ve just got off a flight. You didn’t eat properly. You go to the sushi restaurant where the portions aren’t *nearly* as big as they are in Texas and you pay three times the cost of Texas, so you don’t eat *nearly* enough. You take five shots, drink four mixed drinks, and three beers in less than an hour. You get wasted, you’re weaving, you can’t see straight, and you have to be led back to the hotel by your hot, but drunk friend. Since you’re drunk out of your mind and wearing platforms, you keep pitching over and cracking your head on the pavement. You hit your head four times on the back side and twice on the forehead because your friend can only hold half of you up.

Your friend, who is also drunk, wearing a short ass dress and platform shoes is having a hard time with you and is getting pissed and embarrassed because everyone is pointing and laughing at you and making messed up comments because you’re drunk on the ground with your legs open, your eyes rolling back in your head, and you still have the nerve to be trying to fight people for talking shit. So, in desperation, your friend pays a guy $50.00 to help hold up the other end of you so that we can make it from Harrah’s to the Bellagio where you’re staying. The guy dumps you on the crossway before you make it to the Bellagio because he’s afraid he’ll get blamed for your head bleeding and you looking like you got Ike Turner’d (the Good Samaritan was Black, so you already know he had a right to be concerned), so you call your friend’s cousin to come help where, once you make it into the lobby, the security takes one look at you and calls up the hotel doctor who you promptly try to fight.

Your friend, who is drunk and has all her breasts popping out of her dress, seems to be the only person your drunk ass will respond to or listen to, so she has to keep telling you random happy things to keep you awake and not beating people up. The EMTs show up and it takes three of them to hold you down and they end up having to strap you to a gurney because you’re fighting them, and take you to the emergency room because you’re bleeding and they think you’re on drugs. Your beleagured friend has to calm you down and keep telling you things to keep you awake, but then you stop breathing twice and they have to intubate you and then she sits in the E.R. with you until five in the morning. You end up with a BAAAAAD concussion, bruises over your body, two broken toes, you break your friend’s camera because you knocked her purse out of her hand and then promptly landed on it smushing the camera and everything else inside it, you mess up your phone, you pull out your IV after your long suffering friend tells you not to and then you get upset that blood starts spurting everywhere. Your friend says, “I told you not to pull it out,” and then you have the nerve to get mad and say she should have told you what would happen if you did because you wouldn’t have if you’d have known, and then your friend tells you that she doesn’t tell people to do things or not to do things unless there’s a good reason and she didn’t really think you’d be dumb enough to pull it out for real.

You get released after arguing with the staff about where your cell phone and i.d. are. The cell phone is recovered, the i.d. is not. Your friend has to call the hotel security to come and pick the two of you up and you try, unsuccessfully, to bribe him to stop and get you a burger and fries. You wonder what all your other friends are doing and you get back to the suite at the Bellagio and you and your friend are forced to order room service and get charged $17.00 a piece for burgers and fries. You pass out in your clothes and the next day, all you care about is A) what you told your loser boyfriend on the phone when you were blitzed out of your mind, B) trying to make sure that your arch nemesis doesn’t find out what happened because he will never let you live it down and C) the fact that you don’t have an i.d. and now you can’t get into any clubs on Saturday night.

This is only the first night. Oh, and the worst part, your best friend got part of it on her video phone and posted that shit on You Tube. I was extremely drunk, for the record.

State of the Union: Exasperated
Listening to: Please Don’t Leave Me by Pink

Edited: March 8th, 2010

Ma Famille: Amend This

I’ve put off blogging about this because I really didn’t want to think about it, but not blogging about it is punking out and I ain’t no punk. My older sister and I do not have a good relationship. We’re oil and water magnified and multiplied by like a bajillion. Everyone talks about sibling rivalry and not getting along with your siblings when you were younger and most people work through that. Well, we never did.

My sister wanted to be an only child and made no bones about telling people that. You ever see that movie, “The Bad Seed?” Yeah, well my sister could have won the part of Rhoda hands down. This is the same girl that burnt me with a cigarette lighter, used to hold a pillow over my face when I was having an asthma attack and try to smother me, and set the bed on fire when I was sleeping in it. She’s done a lot of messed up stuff and I don’t like talking about it because it makes her look psycho and doesn’t reflect very well on my gene pool. She was the school bully and I used to tell people that I wasn’t related to her because I didn’t want them judging me based on what she did.

I kept telling my mother that she had a fricking screw loose and there was something *seriously* wrong with her. She didn’t listen to me and made excuses for her and defended her. She still will to this day up to a large extent. I can only remember my sister being nice to me like three times in my life. Before you write off my memory as being faulty, remember that I can still remember what I wore to the first day of first grade, what my locker combination was in high school, and who I had my first crush on. My memory is on point. We don’t speak to each other unless she wants something from me. I’m nice to my nephew. I feel bad for him because he has a nut job for a mother and it’s not his fault. I just pray he doesn’t turn out like her.

My sister ended up in rehab and, while having a psych eval, they determined that she’s bipolar. I could have told them this year’s ago, but I’m trying not to have one of those gloating “Ha! I told you so!” moments. They finally get her sick ass on some meds and now she’s ready to make amends.Too little, too late is my reply. and my mother is raking me over the coals about it. No matter what she does, she defends her. I’m supposed to forget a childhood of torment and a lifetime of being neglected and not wanted by my sister all because she feels bad about it (which I don’t buy for a second) and wants to make amends.

She can take her amends and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. My mother is in tears half the time and trying to pressure me to be a sister to her. Fuck that. I’m over it. I’ve told her that I’ve divorced myself from that situation. She started crying harder. I told her, as nicely as I could, that I’m sorry that she feels like a bad mother for some of the stuff that she let go down, but that’s her cross to bear, not mine. At some point, you have to cut your losses and just let it go and I’ve done that.

She said that I’m hard-hearted and she started crying that, when it comes to my sister, I have no heart. That evil bitch ate my soul.

State of the Union: Over it
Listening to: My friend, Lisa, talking about her son.

Edited: March 8th, 2010

Amigos: Selfish Wish

I have one of those secret wishes that I never want to say aloud because it makes me sound like a selfish person. I can say it here because everyone already knows that I’m a selfish person and you still kinda sorta like me so that makes it okay.

I’ve been belly dancing for three years now. I love it. It’s one of the few things that I know I’m good at. We do this improvisational show once a month at a coffee shop here to live drumming. We don’t know what beats we’re going to get or what themes are going to get tossed at us during the second set.

My selfish wish is for my friends to actually support me for once and show up. I invite them and they say they’re going to show and then they never do. These aren’t my “casual acquaintance” friends I’m talking about, but my good friends. I show up at all their things. I come to all their parties, and their kid’s parties, I show up at the things that matter and are important to them, but they never come to mine. Some make the excuse that they have kids. Well, there were about 10 in the audience last night. Others say that have people in town. Hello? Bring them. It’s fun, it’s different, and they’ll be able to brag that they went to an awesome show. Some people complain about being busy or being tired or not having enough time. Who on God’s green earth has more stuff going on and is busier than me? I work full time AND go to school full time and I still manage to get to their events, so that excuse won’t wash, either.

Everyone else has people show up at every single show and it makes me sad. My gay boyfriend Paul has shown up once and I love him for that, and my psycho ex boyfriend used to, but I think it was more because he knew that dancing makes me horny and he wanted to get guaranteed booty. On the one hand, it makes me feel like a bad person because I feel that pinch of jealousy that everyone else is able to field someone and I’m there alone. On the other hand, it makes me feel like I’m a bad person with bad friends because I do good things for them and they can’t do this one thing for me.

I feel like a whiny brat because it seems like I’m begging for adulation, but I don’t need that. I just want my friends to show an interest in the thing that I love above all others. I want them to be a good friend, even if it’s only one time, and show up for me, like I’ve done for them hundreds of times.

State of the Union: Sad
Listening to: Helena by My Chemical Romance

Edited: February 1st, 2010

Enemigos: Swimfan

I need your help. Tact is not my strong suit. I need to you to tell me what to say to my friend that will get my point across without completely alienating her. Here’s the sitch:

“Michelle” started getting on my nerves. There’s nothing else I can say. She felt like we were friends enough that she could be herself and be goofy and silly and stupid. Well, the only problem with that is I can stand people that act like that ALL the time. It’s immature and it grates on my nerves. She was calling every single day. She was constantly wanting to hang out. The only problem was, she never had any money. Anytime we hung out, I had to pay. I knew Michelle had a crappy job, so I offered to pay. One time. Then, the bullshit started. She would “accidentally” forget her wallet or she wouldn’t have enough money to cover what she ordered. Me, being a good friend, would cover it. Then, it got to the point, where she wouldn’t even pull out her wallet or even *pretend* like she was pulling out her wallet to pay. She would suggest that we go eat or have drinks some place and then not have any money or, she would whip out her calculator and her checkbook and start adding up how much she had in her account right there at the table and then look at me with this hangdog expression to make me feel bad that she had no money and guilt me into paying.

She was dating this guy that was essentially using her for a booty call, but slapped a relationship tag on it to keep her pacified. She lived in a town about 20-30 miles away and she would come into town to see him and was killing time at my house until he was done with whatever he was doing and then she would trot off to his place that she wasn’t allowed in when he wasn’t there and wasn’t given a key to even though they had been dating forever. One night, she was sitting at my house waiting for him to call her so she could go meet him. I had a test the next day and didn’t want to put her out, but it kept getting later and later. She didn’t leave until almost one in the morning, and I overslept and missed my test. That was it for me. My G.P.A. is the most important thing and anything that compromises that is cut off. I kinda stopped answering my phone after that.

She met my friend, “Leslie” at my birthday party and monopolized her and got her phone number. Then, she basically took Leslie over. Full-on took her over. They were hanging out a lot, talking on the phone a lot, etc. It got to the point where it didn’t even feel like Leslie was my friend; she was *Michelle’s* friend. This was during one of my black periods where I was in a “fuck it” kind of mood and I basically said, “fuck it,” and let her have her. It didn’t help matters that Leslie repeated some things about my friendship with my best friend that only Michelle could have known. She also made some comments that let me know that my name and personal business were being discussed. That *really* pissed me off and I stopped responding to Leslie’s texts, phone calls, and invitations to show up at things because I knew Michelle would be there and I didn’t want to be around her and I didn’t trust either of them because it was fairly obvious they were talking about me. I cut Leslie off and that was wrong. I know, write it down for posterity; I actually admitted that I was wrong about something. I shouldn’t have done that to her. Eventually, she stopped trying.

Michelle moved out of state and, right around Yom Kippur, I started thinking about Leslie and I felt bad, so I sent her a text. Slowly, we started hanging out again. She didn’t really want to discuss the Michelle situation, and neither did I, but it needed to be addressed. We started talking and I told her how I felt and then she told me that Michelle was doing and saying things to cause a division between us. Leslie would want to invite me to things and Michelle would come up with reasons and excuses for why she didn’t want me there. Then, she made it seem as if I didn’t want to be friends with Leslie. Basic girl bullshit, in other words. Some of Leslie’s friends confirmed all the nonsense that Michelle was spreading. Then, to make matters worse, she kinda started bugging Leslie the way she was doing me. She would call all the time, be needy all the fricking time, pull the same money crap all the time, and would even show up at her house when she wasn’t there and be sitting outside waiting for her when she got home.

Leslie and I have worked through our issues and we’re closer than ever. The only issue is Michelle. Something needs to be done. Leslie wants no part of it. She told me that, since Michelle was my friend first, I should deal with the situation. I get her point in a way, because by introducing them, I brought drama into her life. I don’t know what to say that won’t sound messed up, though. Michelle and I have a *lot* of mutual friends, so I can’t eradicate her from my life the way I normally would someone that has caused this much drama. I want to tell her off, but I’d probably make her cry and, for the most part, she is a good friend. She’s just annoying in large doses and severely lacks good judgment and common sense in a *lot* of areas.

Tell me how to tell her to back the fuck off. Tell me how to tell her to quit being a stalker with my friend, to go make her own damned friends, and stay the hell away from mine. Tell me how to tell her that she needs to learn home training (i.e. it is not acceptable to eat food off people’s plates nor is it acceptable to pass gas *loudly* from either end of your body at the dinner table and then laugh about it and do it repeatedly). Tell me a nice way to tell her that, if you don’t have money, stay your broke ass at home like normal people do. Tell me how to tell her that her squatter’s rights on my personal space are being revoked and she needs to learn boundaries and stay in her place and out mine.

Help me. Please?

State of the Union: Distressed
Listening to: Glamorous by Fergie.

Edited: January 28th, 2010

Dating Diaries: Squishy Feelings Alert

I got yelled at because I haven’t been blogging lately. I have all kinds of things to talk about and I keep meaning to do it, but I guess my heart isn’t in it anymore. I don’t even keep up with everyone’s blogs as fanatically as I used to. I guess that, since the old EFX went away/imploded on itself, I just haven’t been as keen to blog as before.

I’ve been dating this guy. I would tell you his name is Francesco, seeing as that’s what he told me his name was, but it’s not. His name is Ran, short for Ranesh or however you spell it. We’re not together officially, but we’re about to not be together in any sense of the word. I keep hearing warning bells and I don’t know why. Maybe because he lied about his name. Well, I met him on the street as we were club hopping to celebrate finals being over and I was all kinds of drunk and I made out with him. Yes. Me. On the street. Drunk as a skunk. Made out with some dude with an Italian accent. Well, the accent explains the “why” part to the making out.

He’s pushy. I used to think it was cute (probably because of the accent), but I am sooo over it now. He doesn’t listen to me. I know I sound like a girl saying that, but in this case, it’s true. When someone is sick and tells you they’re sick and they just want to go to sleep, why would you show up at their door? When they tell you they want to kick it with friends, why would you blow up their phone every hour on the hour until they call you back? When they tell you they want to chill with their family and relax, why would you blow up their phone trying to get them to go to a club?

Part of the problem is that my infatuation with his accent has worn off and I can see that I don’t like him like that. He is smart, he has a kooky sense of humor, he likes to travel, and he isn’t keen to make babies. He sounds like a viable candidate, but the alarm bells are going off. The same ones I had with Richard. I try not to hold any man accountable for the actions/mistakes of another man, but I am getting the heebie-jeebies about him that I got with Richard.

Is it a break up if you aren’t really together? I’m annoyed. Perturbed. Disgruntled. Pick your S.A.T. word. I just need to figure out a way to get him to back off without him stalking me and he soooo has stalker tendencies. Plus, he keeps trying to get me to sleep with him. It’s very off-putting. I’m not suggesting that he play hard to get or anything, but I don’t want you putting my hand on your errection and telling me that I did that, either.

Jeez.

State of the Union: Frocking annoyed
Listening to: Meet Me Halfway by the Black Eyed Peas

Posted: 7:35 PM, Wed 30 Dec 2009 in Dating Diaries

Edited: December 31st, 2009

Rant: You Get What You Get

The moral of today’s lesson is: don’t take on a project and expect to get thanked for taking on the extra responsibility and people will not appreciate anything you do because they think they can do it better. It’s a fact of life. Oh, but I’m putting the cart ahead of the horse. Let me backtrack.

I volunteer for the Junior League. Yes, how Southern of me. One of the girls is a chronic complainer. She has all these ideas of how to make things better, she thinks she can do everything better, and she comes up with all these plans, yet she complains about having to do the work required to make all her ideas come to fruition. I chaired the Hunger Drive last year and this chick was the #1 Grouser, so this year, I decided to sit back and let her do the work for a change.

She stepped up and I sat back to watch. It only took her two weeks and she saw what I had been dealing with the year before: everyone had an idea of what they wanted to do, but no one wanted to put in the effort or time to make it work. She got stuck working long hours with no one to help her. Everyone had a plethora of excuses for why they couldn’t show up or help out. Her efforts were criticized and picked apart. Then, when she complained about it, she got the same response I did: You signed up for it; Deal with it.

You get what you get. You have to make the best out of what you have to work with. If I was an evil person, I would have done her like she did me: I would have left her to her own devices and let her sink or swim on her own.  I would have made fun of her behind her back. I probably would have made veiled references to her ineptitude on MySpace the way she did me and had all my friends join in. Heck, I probably would have made a scathing blog about her and had all of you trash her. If I’d have been a true bitch, I would have made sure that it wasn’t friends only where she could read it and be humiliated.

But I can honestly say that a year does make a difference. This past year has truly changed me. Am I a goody goody froo froo feel good person now? Absolutely not. I have, however, learned to look at things from both sides. I think this experience has taught her to do the same because she apologized to me. She said that she understood why I was so frustrated last year. She told me that she took some of my comments the wrong way (which people are wont to do when they don’t know a person very well) and, instead of seeing that I was asking questions for clarification, saw it as me challenging her.

I think that some of the mothering and understanding that I get from some of you has rubbed off on me (You know who you are as the three of you made my top friends on MySpace). That is the only reason I can think of for why I am waking up at the buttcrack of dawn during Spring Break to help her distribute fliers.

State of the Union: Surprisingly upbeat considering this was supposed to be a rant
Listening to: Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood by Nina Simone

Edited: March 17th, 2009

Hello world!

This is so sad. I don’t even want to think about how many times I have done this. This is it. This is the last EFX blog I am EVER doing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Edited: March 14th, 2009

CL Tomfoolery: Bush, Bush, and More Bush

I am celebrating my last day of freedom before classes start again, so I decided to cruise over to Craigs List to get my daily dose of dumbassdedness (yes, I know it’s not a word in the dictionary, but it’s a word on this blog, dammit). It was kinda dull, but then I ran across a whole slew of women getting pissed off at this dude and posting militant replies along the lines of:

[B]Stop your posting you weirdo!
You’re a freak and disrespectful towards women![/B]

Then there was the therapist that replied with:

[I]You say it’s been over a year and you’ve had no sex? I saw your posting a week ago when you wanted a roommate in exchange for regular sex. didn’t that work out for ya’? Could it possibly be YOU that is the problem? Do the world a favor and stop acting like just because your main goal in life is to get laid that there is something wrong with women in general. perhaps if some woman felt you wanted her for more than pure sex or that you offered something more a hard penis, you might find yourself getting responses.[/I]

This lady was boss, though. She had dates, times, locations. She was like a private investigator.

[B]This is the same guy (posting here daily for the two years I’ve been single)
he also posts
Mother-Daughter Hook-up
Natural Bush Man
Seeking Quality Woman For Vacation to the Hill Country
I’m Bi and want to Share You with Other Men
Lets Share A Home and Live near Arboretum/Domain
and the Latest!!!!
May I have a Drumroll please…
I’ll trim that Bush For Free!!!
And he’s the Outdoor Sex Guy, always mentioning that pulloff on 360 where he wants outdoor sex with a view of the downtown.

Just how weird is this guy anyway?
As long as he is around, he makes the other guys look almost promising.
Well, almost.

He also posts his age as anywhere between 44-50
He insists on a photo but won’t send his
Loves to call you a whore if you admit to going out with anyone you met on cl
Peppers his posts with the faggiest of language, trying to sound smarter than he is
Always uses Truly, tightly bonding, recent and true photo,
Always insists he is handsome, and VERY CLEAN (as in anal)
Mentions hygiene since he finally learned how to spell it
Says he is smooth skinned what a wus
And my guess is he can’t get it up with normal women.
So he is the resident weirdo here on cl.
Date him girls, then tell us how he is!
[/B]
You know me, I’m Suzy Q, Investigative Reporter, so I *had* to find out what this ad said, but everyone kept flagging him before I could read it. I was bored with nothing better to do, but eventually, I finally got to read it before the flaggers got him again and all I can say is he took an idea that I have seen in numerous porn movies and just ran with it.

[I]Natural Bush Man (Austin)

This is FREE at no charge whatsoever to you! READ ON……

Ladies, I have professional cutting salon sheers and sissors.
I have lots of experience shaping a lady’s ‘private area hair’ for her.
Growing a beautiful shaped bush is in hot demand now for many women and the men love it! There are many shapes, lengths, and styles that many women are now demanding for their hair growth in the private area and it’s making a strong come-back.

Allow me to give you an opinion and tell you what looks best for you!
It’s very sexy and thrilling to be a woman with a very attractive and appealing bush!This is becoming so popular in many of the major trendy cities, I can easily foresee that there will be shops opening all around called, “Hair, Nails, and Bush” salons! ha-ha

There will be a charge in the near future for all of this type of ’specialized treatment’ so take advantage of me doing it FREE for you now!

Grow it, show it, and flaunt it!
Total waxing is fast become past history! That empty bald spot look is boring.
Women of the new age now know what real men want and desire!
If you have good protein genetics, you will most likely be capable and growing a very attractive and sex appealing bush!

I can shape it for you, cut it to the most desirable and appealing length, etc.
Again, total waxing in the private area is now considered obsolete.

Many of the top European models shave their ‘lips’ area but then have a nice triangle above. Younger to middle-aged American women are now turning forward to this personal hair design also. Having that very empty missing triangle look in your private area is past history for the 1990’s.
Having that ‘empty bald’ spot in your triangle area is so plain, ordinary, and boring looking without any personality or character.

A nice bush gives that area lots of pizzazz and personality!

Having that very thin, tiny ‘landing strip’ above the clitoris or that ‘hitler mustache’ look are also past history. That never looked good anyway.

You can still cut along the thigh area and lip area and look good in panties.
Even if you have very little hair growth established at this moment, we can still start early of giving you a shape and then later determine the most desirable length that you prefer than that we think any mate you might be with intimately will enjoy!

I can offer you real and experienced opinions for bush hair designs.
We can do this in the total privacy of your home or mine!

Thank you!
[/I]
Now I, personally, think that he’s doing the world a public service because I’m sure there’s a whole bunch of furry wildebeests running around (especially in tree-hugging, mother earth Austin) but people get so *sensitive* about genitalia maintenance. I say let the old, pervy bastard get his kicks in. No woman in her right mind would let a complete stranger at her cooter with scissors, so it’s not like he’s going to get an replies from anyone but spammers and trannies, but whatevs. I guess it’s the principle of it.

*Shrugs her shoulders*

State of the Union: Amused
Listening to: Call and Answer by Barenaked Ladies

Edited: February 27th, 2009

Holiday Rant: What?!?!?!?!?!

Okay, so I have to post pictures from my little sister’s birthday, Thanksgiving, our last Kick Butt show and the “bet” pictures, but I *have* to put this up first. My bapi passed away when I was five. There isn’t much that I remember about him except he said he was like Sammy Davis Jr. I didn’t get it until I got waaay older, but basically, he was saying he was a black Jew. (Things like this flew over my head when I was a kid, only to swing around and smack me in the back of the head with a goofy stick as an adult). He had this beautiful porcelain menorah that his grandmother gave to him. Well, my Nana Helena gave it to me and I lost it. I can’t find this thing anywhere and I searched *everywhere* and I do mean everywhere. Every box, every container, even my stuff in my mom’s attic.

Nana Helena is coming to visit during Hanukkah (hence the rush to find this thing). I do *not* want to be the one to tell her that I lost a priceless family heirloom (it’s made of porcelain and is priceless for the memories, not the monetary value) So me, being the problem solving guru that I am, decide to come up with a contingency plan and go online to find another one juuuuust in case. Nana Helena’s eyesight isn’t what it used to be, so she may not even notice the difference.

I went to five stores here in Austin and, not only could I *not* find a single menorah, I couldn’t find any Jewish decorations *at all.* That kinda pissed me off. There were Christmas decorations out the ass. I even found some Kwanzaa decorations at a couple of stores, but nothing of the Jewish persuasion. I felt discriminated against. I know I’m only a part-time Jew, but still. It pissed me off and it made me sad. I couldn’t find anything, so I went on Amazon and Ebay and nothing looks remotely close. I was on Craig’s List and this caught my eye.

I will buy a lap dance (when you come to Texas or I’m in your area) for the first person who figures out what’s the problem with this.

This is bullshit. Pure and simple.

Take out the fruit and insert a menorah and Cookie Monster is making my point.

State of the Union: Ticked

Listening to: Santa, Can You Hear Me by Britney Spears

Edited: December 16th, 2008

Travel: Cancun Chronicles 2008

Since I can’t sleep, let’s talk about my vacation. Mexico, Mexico, how I love thee, Mexico. I stayed at the Gran Caribe Real Resort. The hotel is really beautiful, but the food leaves *much* to be desired. I know I was spoiled after the huge spread that they had at the Riu Cancun last year, but the buffet at Gran Caribe was not up to snuff. They had an outdoor steak and sushi restaurant that was great, and a fancy Mexican restaurant that required reservations that was good, but the rest was whack, other than breakfast. If you’re a foodie like me, avoid this hotel like the plague. Julie and her husband picked the hotel, banking on the fact that we would get upgraded to the fancy sister hotel next door like they did last year. We definitely lost that bet. It was kinda pretty, though.

It was an all inclusive hotel, so the drinks were free and I freely imbibed. Can you tell I’m wasted?

I met cool people from all over. The bartenders kept calling me Miss Universe. Some of the girls were getting a little perturbed because they would make my drinks first. Mexican men love dark-skinned women. So do British men. And Irish men. And Italian, Canadian and Australian men, as I found out. I met some cool girls from Minnesota (Yes, Birdy, there are cool people that live in Minnesota) and we ended up drinking frothy concoctions together.

We went to this club called Bulldog and I ended up making out with this hottie from the Canadian Navy. My friend, Marlena, would be repulsed because he had red hair. The next night, we ended up at Margaritaville, where I was met up and danced like crazy with some Irish guys from Thomas Cook that made me a penis out of a green balloon.

I want to work there so I can wear a coconut bra. We had a blast and got kinda tipply.

I was also getting hit on by one of the guys that work there. He asked me how did I get so beautiful and I started singing that rap song, “She Get it From her Mama” by Juvenile.

He was rubbing a piece of ice down my back when Julie took this picture and I don’t even want to tell you how turned on I was.

I bought spray-on sunscreen by accident instead of sun block, so I turned toasty brown. The sunscreen also irritated my skin all sick and I broke out in hives.

Focus on the hives on the breasts for a second and stop drooling at my cleavage. I don’t want to call names, but you know who you are. I went parasailing and they put me above the advertisement for Margaritaville and it was pretty flipping amazing. I also went boogie boarding and that was pretty cool, too, especially when I was paddling and the lifeguard knew that I was a surfer chick. The waves were strong on the second day of boogie boarding and this massive wave knocked my boob right out of my zebra bikini top. No, there are no pictures of that.

You will be proud to know that I spoke to everyone in Spanish. Waiters, bartenders, store clerks, everyone. I kept getting asked if I was Dominican. I guess that means I sounded authentic. We went to the Mercado and I bought some of my meds for dirt cheap. I got a 60 day supply of my allergy medicine for 20.00 when I would have had to pay 75.00 in the States. I also survived public transportation in Mexico. Julie bought some sunglasses that said Gucci on the front, but had the Baby Phat logo on the side.

I got hit on by this Italian/Spanish guy names Julian that kept telling me what naughty things he wanted to do to me with his tongue in Italian. I can’t speak Italian, but I understand it now, and he is one kinky puppy. He switched to speaking in Spanish and it only got worse. I kept calling him Fabio’s brother, but he looks more like Tarzan. His hair is gorgeous. He’s my new baby daddy. He has beautiful blue eyes. They had mariachis playing in the hotel and I started dancing (you know me). They were old as the hills and flirty to boot. One asked to take a picture with me and tried to put his hand up my dress.

Dirty ole Grampa! I couldn’t even slap him for being impertinent because he was old as the hills. I met these guys from West Virginia and they were so cool. I wonder why my dad talks about them so badly. I guess it’s a rivalry thing between Virginia and West Virginia. I ended up making out with one of the guys so that I could cross “Make out with Hillbilly” off my list. I’m being silly. They weren’t hillbillies. They were pretty flipping cool and the one on the left of me gave me a lap dance. Guess which one I made out with? Hmm, let me think….

Cancun was fun for the most part, but the rant will come post haste. I also realized that my pictures never come out right because most people don’t know how to crop a photo through a view finder. I take good pictures of them, but the ones they take of me always suck ass. Speaking of pictures, I guess life would not be complete without these. Don’t say that Dee Dee Dynamite isn’t a benevolent soul. Cover your eyes, Birdy.

State of the Union: Wonky

Listening to: Send me an Angel by Real Life

Edited: August 26th, 2008