Sin City

Alas, I am off to Las Vegas this afternoon.

I honestly feel that I really haven't unpacked and lived in my apartment for the last three weeks. This traveling business is a bitch.

But I'll stop complaining. I just took a trip to New York and now am taking a trip to Las Vegas at absolutely no cost to me. Not that I got to really enjoy New York, nor will I spend any time lounging by the Hard Rock Hotel pool during my stay, but these are free trips away from the office nonetheless and I am grateful for them.

I tried to convince Cute Boy to come to Vegas with me, but he's got enough craziness going on in his own life currently, and I wouldn't be able to spend much time with him anyway. It'll be good for us to spend more than one night apart though. As much as his ridiculousness makes me laugh (i.e. yesterday when he proclaimed that "My Hero" by the Foo Fighters was in every sports scene of every movie of our youth, when it was really only in Varsity Blues and maybe Not Another Teen Movie - and he was serious about this exaggerative proclamation), I feel like we both get a lot more done when the other is not around.

Anyways, when I fly back on Thursday, my best friend from home will be in town (how convenient!) and the next weekend my best friend from San Francisco who recently moved back to San Diego will be in town and the NEXT weekend, is my mom's birthday even though I shan't be in LA because I'll be one of the subjects in Cute Boy's latest production (a photograph, if you must know), so the next few week(end)s are pretty much going to kick ass.

Don't be jealous. See you kids in Sin City!

A Word of Advice...

Next time you leave to go on a four-day business trip to New York...don't write a post about your ex-boyfriend the night before.

And here's why.

Inevitably your current boyfriend (let's just call him "Cute Boy") will read the post when you are not around to reassure him that he is the love of your life and any "desired" friendship with an ex is just a desire to be friends with everyone and live a life devoid of animosity. Nothing more.

And inevitably, you will be flying to New York and realize you didn't even discuss said post with your ex and every comment he makes to you after you've left that is not dripping sugary-sweet with testimonies of undying love and aching heartbreak for your lost presence will seem to you like a not-so-subtly disguised jab at your oh-so-random blog about your ex.

And even though he never says anything (because, of course, you mentioned in the blog that he was secure enough to be okay with friendships with the ex, so he can't very well prove otherwise), you still feel like his feelings are a little bit hurt and he wants to say something, but he can't, and now he doesn't miss you as much as you could possibly miss him because you started a pseudo-fight before you left with a stupid, unnecessary blog about becoming friends with your ex.

But still, because he is your Cute Boy, he will call you a couple times a day and several times at night to tell you that - indeed! - he does miss you and he "loves you times infinity", even if he doesn't really understand why you ever mentioned the ex at all.

And you will adore him all the more for that. And you will wish that you could just take back what you said because it was never worth feeling like you hurt his feelings. Then of course you will realize (!) that, unlike spewing unnecessary words out of your mouth, you can delete blog posts...and then you realize that you cannot do this either because then the post you are currently posting would never make any sense.

So my advice, in short is this, unless you want to go through all of the above-mentioned hullabaloo, never EVER write a post about your ex-boyfriend before you leave for New York when you're already perfectly satisfied with the Cute Boy in front of you.

Did you miss me?

So I am leaving for New York tomorrow.  My first big-girl business trip.  I am equal parts excited and nervous as hell, but I think it will be great.  And I am staying in the Hudson Hotel, so I can just get wasted every night in their famous bar if it doesn't.

I kid, I kid.  Kind of...

Anyways, I can't guarantee that I will post every day.  Not that I already guaranteed that, because if I did, I'd be giving all of you your money back. Or probably not...but I'd be apologizing profusely.

But I digress, since I am not sure I will post every day and I am sick and tired of my own lame ass not blogging consistently, I have gotten in touch with a few of my favorite bloggers to see if they'll take over the duties for this week.  Keep your fingers crossed because I am trying to set up a great lineup!  In fact, you probably won't want me to come back.

But whatever, you'll get over it.

In other news, I ran into my ex-boyfriend's best friend today as I was leaving work.

Shit got awk.

He was on his way to my ex-boyfriend's house where they were going to get drunk celebrating Saint Patrick together.  Actually, it could've been more awkward.  In fact, I am sure that it was the majority of the time, but overall he was completely splendid to me and treated me like the quasi-friends we used to be...which says a lot about him...and made me think that maybe we are all grown-ups after all.

I have this tendency to want to be friends with everyone, including my ex and his friends and anyone who has ever been hateful to me in my life, even if we didn't end on the best of terms (which we didn't).

I suppose I am just non-confrontational that way.

And I hate that my ex-boyfriend hates me, because really?  Who wants to be hated?  At one point in our relationship, we were really great friends - I wish I could hang on to that with every friendship of mine that's fallen by the wayside.

Oh blimey.  This post has gotten far too fucking depressing for my taste.  Besides, I'm almost certain that my ex and I will be friends again one day, because we were too good of friends for us not to be.  See? A little positivity to spice things up!

(And for the first time in my life, I am dating a Boy who would be entirely secure and okay with that.  Weird - the being friends with my ex part, not the positivity.)

And for what I hope is a long time to come, I will still have the best Cute Boy and the best friends a girl could ask for to make up for (and then some!) the friendships I've lost along the way.

That's all for tonight!  I'll see you lovelies in New York!

Me! News Weekend and An Exhibit in How San Francisco is NOT Keeping it Classy

So I am perfectly aware that I had grandiose dreams of actually blogging while I was away this weekend and therefore was not in need of the literary genius that are my favorite bloggers (see previous blog post).

And…yeah. Not so much.

I’ll be better next time, I promise.

So this weekend was everything I hoped for and more. As I walked out of my Southwest plane onto those perilously dangerous airplane stairs at the Burbank Airport, I breathed in the sunshine and warmth and smog and everything just felt…better. Every little thing that’s been bothering me lately (work and…well, mostly just work) just went away. And it was glorious.

And that’s just Reason #1 why I need to move out of San Francisco.

Here’s what I accomplished while I was in Los Angeles: while still working (because I still had to work remotely on Friday, you know), I got one client a briefing with the Los Angeles Times and I got another client a free speaking opportunity at a conference in New York (I also got the organizer of said conference to invite me to stay at her house in New York for the length of the event. Um, yeah. I’ll get right on that.).

And THEN I spent the rest of my weekend being entirely unproductive.

On Friday night, I went out to Roy’s and The Standard downtown with my best gal from San Diego – we’ll call her Songbird (because her voice reminds me of those singing birds from Snow White) – and my other San Francisco buddy, Tio Troll (don’t ask; there is a story behind these names). Even though there was a twenty dollar cover to go up on the roof (where the pool and the view and the good drinks and all the really, really, ridiculously good-looking people reside), we got wristbanded and sent up without so much as a dollar spent. We must just be that good-looking…or something.

Tio Troll and Me

On Saturday, I had a nice little “Girls Day” with mom – getting a mani/pedi (and painting my nails neon pink as a nice little heads-up to the job – “Look at my hot pink nails! You can’t hold me down!”) and then subsequently running around with her completing her multitudinous and varying errands. And Saturday night I spent watching “The Nanny Diaries” (I do NOT recommend it. I was so disappointed in ScarJo and Ms. Keys.) and finishing “Eat, Pray, Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert (if you’re one of three people who haven’t read it – like I was – I HIGHLY recommend it).



Oh and did I mention that I bought another book while I was at the airport because I have a serious (and nearly unhealthy) obsession with buying new books to read? I didn’t? Oh. Well, I did – and so I started reading that on Saturday night as well.

Finally, on Sunday, I went to Urth Caffe with my Songbird and we had a glorious three hour brunch in the SPLENDID sun (it was actually only about an hour and a half, but they make you wait SO long for your food – it felt like an eternity – so three hours is not too much of an exaggeration). Then my Bearer of Life and I went to the bookstore (yes, again. don’t judge me.) and I bought “The Essential Noam Chomsky” for my Boy. He’s so smart. It almost makes me feel inferior that he wants to read Noam Chomsky and I am counting down the days until Jen Lancaster’s next book comes out, but then I think about it just a moment longer and I realize who is REALLY the stupid one here – and it ain’t Jen and me.*

The rest of Sunday was a blur of mom’s fettucine alfredo, a two-hour nap on the couch, a brand spanking new episode of “Keeping Up With the Kardashians” (which I swear I only watched because NOTHING else was on) packing up my stuff, falling asleep again and then waking up a short four hours later to leave for the airport.

And my Monday? Well, so far so alright. My Boy picked me up from the airport and I missed his Cute Little Face, so that was a good start. But he picked me up in my car – which, oh by the way, got BROKEN INTO THIS WEEKEND !!

!!!

Did I forget to mention that? Of COURSE, San Francisco can’t let me have one weekend of pure bliss, relaxation and unproductivity in Los Angeles. She is such a jealous bitch.

So some trolls shattered the passenger side window of my car early Sunday morning and stole…nothing.

Thanks a lot, you fucking dicknoses!

Everyone seems to think I should be relieved that they didn’t steal anything, but really there was nothing of value to steal in my car, so I am pretty much just pissed that I just spent $1700 on my car in the past two weeks and now I have to get a new window. And of course, I blame this entirely on San Francisco because she and I have been going at it for awhile now and this did NOT make our living situation any better.

And that, my loveliest of readers, is Reason #2 why I need to move out of San Francisco.

T minus 11 days until I am in LA again…

*I kid, I kid. I really love Noam Chomsky, but I’ve got a few more chick-lit and self-help books to get out of the way before I crack open old Noam-y.

I'm Going Going Back Back to LA LA

I'm flying home to Los Angeles tomorrow !!!!

!!!

If I was really cool, I'd have a couple of you guest blog for me. I'd ask Maxie and Jamie, of course, since I stalk their own blogs so much and because they seem to be well-experienced guest bloggers. But I'd also of course have to ask Shar, because I think she is hilarious, Jess because she made this pretty blog and lots of other bloggers who, for now, will continue to remain in the dark as to how much I actually frequent their pages.

Not only am I not that cool, but I also:

A) will only be out of town for a few days, so I don't need as many guest bloggers as I would undoubtedly invite

and

B) even on my mini-vacay, I will probably still blog. i am just that cool.

I am almost done packing. And Cute Boy is in the living room watching Sister Act 2, waiting for me to stop straightening my hair and throwing mismatched clothes into my black, quilted duffel bag that I got for free by making a $25 purchase at Bath & Body Works...and pay attention to him.

Four days apart is rather hard for us. Don't you roll your eyes at me! He is really, really CUTE. So for now, I am off to get my four days worth of snuggle on.

See y'all on the flip side (aka LA !!)

!!!

The Whore I Am or Whoreasaurus Rex

I am a magazine whore. Seriously. My living room collections rivals those found in hair and nail salons. I buy them like it’s my job.

But let’s be honest. I need to see what Nicole Richie’s baby looks like (and no, looking at the child in the grocery store line will not suffice – I must gaze upon the babe in the comfort of my OWN home), I need to know “150 Easy Ways to Go Green – In every room! For every Budget!”, it’s imperative that I find “Free Stuff & Great Deals – In This Issue on p. 134”, I’d like to learn a few “No-Cook Recipes for Healthy Meals” and I’m a little intrigued as to why Angelina Jolie stood Jennifer Aniston up at the “Night Before” Oscars party. So, you see, I don’t have much of a choice.

I’m perfectly aware that I would be far less worried about money all the time if I purchased fewer (or no) magazines (or books, for that matter, but those are far easier to justify) all the time. Being that I am aware of that fact and still choose to buy them says to me that they are, in some small way, contributors to my happiness and well-being.

Little, glossy, 150-page contributors.

I can see the poorly-hidden disdain in Cute Boy’s eyes whenever we pass a bookstore and I can’t get to the corner without going inside and purchasing at least two books and one magazine.

But it’s these little things that make me happy and he should consider himself lucky that a Magazine/Book Whoreasaurus is the only kind of Whore I am.

Patience is a Virtue

I think I have blogger’s block.

Every time I think of something to write, I just think, “No, that’s stupid. Nobody wants to read about that. You’re an idiot.”

Maybe I have blogger’s self-esteem issues.

I suppose I could talk to you guys about the fight – nay, two fights - Cute Boy and I have had in the past twelve hours. But I don’t really quite understand what they were about yet. And instead of trying to figure out what might be wrong with him - because that’s easy and I can come up with all kinds of conjectures as to why I’m right and he’s wrong – I am trying to be realistic and figure out what’s wrong with me, since I can more accurately pinpoint that problem and it probably has more to do with our arguments than I want to realize.

So this is the diagnosis: I need more patience. I seriously do. I am also easily irritated, which I think is linked to my inevitable need for more patience.

The general synopsis of our first argument last night was that he did one thing that irritated me and then everything that happened after that, whether it was something he said or someone on the street taking my parking spot, just irritated me further. Cute Boy pointed out that I seem to get easily irritated with him even though I can be just as obnoxious and annoying sometimes and he never seems to get irritated with me.

I don’t get it. I don’t want to be easily aggravated! I want to be easy and laid-back and cool and the world’s perfect girlfriend! But of course, Cute Boy’s pointing out that he did something right in our relationship and I failed at it miserably…well, that only irritated me further.

I don’t really know how to come by this whole patience thing. I’ve always known that I need more of it. I’m a prime example of road rage behind the wheel and my brother’s teasing/constant obnoxiousness quickly puts me over the edge. But how does one become more patient?

Cute Boy’s and my second argument today was when we started having a discussion (nay, disagreement) regarding films and film critics, which quickly turned into a discussion in elitism. I figured that being more patient required the conscious decision to approach discussions with more tact than I had previously, and I tend to get a little passionate when I feel strongly about a point of view (as does he), so I reminded myself:

“Be patient. Hear him out. Try to understand where he’s coming from and what he’s trying to say and make your argument rationally.”

And I was sure that I did! But as soon as the discussion came to a close, he said:

“Are you mad at me? In your eyes, it looks like you’re mad at me.”

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t!

I still feel that I need to be more patient. I know I haven’t changed in a day. And I’m still relatively sure that the best way to acquire patience (which is a virtue, after all) is to be conscious of situations where patience is needed the most and simply…be it (patient, that is).

I guess I need to be careful of what my eyes say too. This truly feels like a total personality overhaul, but I suppose it’s for the better.

Wish me luck.

The Weekend Wrap-Up

This weekend was all kinds of splendid.

I had the best of intentions and was so sure that I was going to blog while I was in Napa. I even lugged my lappy along for the trip, but alas when we got to our (splendid!) hotel room, the “complimentary wireless Internet” was as slow as a slug and I had no patience for such shenanigans, so I decided to take a two-day break from the blog-osphere.

Anyways, to sum up, Cute Boy and I went to three different wineries on Saturday (Domaine Carneros, Pine Ridge and [Some Name I Can’t Remember] Grove) and worked ourselves up a nice buzz. Then we showed up to our hotel, settled in and ended up taking a three-hour nap (well, I did anyway). It was perfect.

Yesterday we traipsed around Calistoga and got mud bath treatments and full-body massages at some spa. Heaven. It was pure heaven. Which makes going back to work on Monday even worse than it normally is - blimey.

In other news, I didn’t read much of my new Obama book this weekend. To make up for that, I read it aloud in the car as Cute Boy drove me to work this morning. He was really cute – pretending like he cared and wanted me to keep going even though I know being read to (out of a political book, no less) is one of the more abominable activities to have to endure.

I couldn’t even stand being read to when I was younger, demanding that my mother just give me the book if she wasn’t going to pronounce “Ramona Quimby” correctly. God, if you want anything done right, you just have to do it yourself.

My next big trip is to New York in about three weeks and then to Las Vegas about a week after that. Both trips are for work, but I’m sure I can fit some gambling, boozing and high-class hookers in there somewhere. I’m a multitasker, after all.

To-Buy List

I am buying this next Tuesday.



Cute Boy will more than likely try to talk me out of purchasing a CD, since he's all about downloading that shit for free.

But I don't care. I've got to support Ms. Jackson...'cuz I'm nasty.

Counting Down the Hours...

I just got off the phone with the Los Angeles Times. My coworker – let’s just call him TCB – has this contact over there that he made while pitching for one of our company’s clients. Now this LA Times reporter calls him every time she needs to speak with people for a story and this time she wanted to speak with a female who loves her iPhone – in other words, me.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t really love my iPhone. I like it a lot, but I’m not one of those Apple prophets that thinks Steve Jobs is god and all other gadgets should bow at the base of the Apple throne. I also kind of want a Voyager and a Blackberry, so I can’t truly be a devout iPhone lover. But more than that, I want my name in the LA Times. So I put on my “I ♥ Apple” shirt and pitched the shit outta my iPhone.

In other news, the Boy and I are going to Napa this weekend.

I am beyond stoked. I love wine, I love hotels and my boyfriend’s ah-right, so all in all, it should be a splendid time. I bought him a sweet present for our 6 month-iversary too, so he’s like extra in love with me right now. It’s this 4-in-1 record player. It plays records, CDs, tapes (seriously, who still has tapes? my boyfriend, that’s who.) and connects to your iPod. It’s pretty fuckin’ sweet. In fact, for 2.5 seconds I considered taking it back, but it would’ve been like taking a nipple from a baby. Seriously, it was that good.



I also bought a new book – Barack Obama’s “The Audacity of Hope” – so I’m looking forward to reading that entire tome on my relaxing two-day vacay. Hopefully, Cute Boy doesn’t pull some “this trip was supposed to be about us” bullshit. I kid, I kid. But I really want to read this book.

Speaking of the Boy, he has gotta be my biggest cheerleader when it comes to this blog thing, but I can tell it’s gonna get old to him in a quick minute. Last night at dinner (which I pseudo-guilted him into taking me to since, “It’s our month-iversary!”, and those only come around, you know…once a month), he said:

“Don’t start thinking you’re all cool now because you have a blog.”

To which I replied:

“Don’t make me fucking blog about you.”

It’s a sweet, sweet power this blog.

Anyways, for those of you who don’t track US Weekly and PerezHilton.com with the dedicated vigilance that I do, Jennifer Lopez gave birth to twins – a girl and a boy – this morning. I can’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy in my heart since, growing up, all I wanted was twin babies of the boy and girl variety. My mom used to ask what I would do if I had just a single child.

“Give it back and keep trying for doubles.” Obviously.

I’ll have Facts #11-20 in my much-anticipated “100 Things About Me” for you later today. I know you’re all too excited.

And on an ending note, how much ass does my new blog design kick? Jess over at Cuppycake Designs warms my heart.

Happy Friday !!

6 Months of Sweet Lovin'

To my five faithful readers, I apologize profusely for not posting yet today. My very existence has been nonstop busy-ness since I awoke this morn.

But I missed you guys. I really did.

Also, today is my 6 month-iversary with this guy I know so now that I am finally done working, I've gotta go get wasted with him. So romantic.

Happy 6 Month-iversary to Us!

This day fuckin' wore me out.  I'm almost too tired to go hit the sauce right now...almost.  

I promise to be better to you tomorrow.

Happy Blog-iversary to me! And a few words on my next novel...

Today is my One Week Blog-iversary. So I am pretty excited about that.

You can pretty much expect that I will chronicle the anniversary of my first blog weekly, then monthly and finally yearly when that time comes. That’s just how I roll. If my boyfriends could deal with it, you can too. In fact, I think the thought of somehow forgetting one of our monthly anniversaries actually strikes fear in my Cute Boy now. He actually got all pale and ashy when he realized he had made plans to play music with his buddies on our 6 month-iversary. God, I really hope I am not that intimidating. Or maybe I do…

In other news, I am writing a novel. In November. Which is National Novel Writing Month, in case you were unaware. But anywho, I am going to do it.



I used to write “books” all the time when I was younger. I wrote my first piece when I was two. I kid you not. Okay, I didn’t actually write it. I dictated it to my agent (my mother) who wrote it down on blank sheets of paper, three-hole punched it and bound it with red yarn. I illustrated these little babies too. Meaning, of course, that I cut out pictures of Disney characters and pasted them in manners depicting my plotline all over the crisp white pages of my first tome. This was my creative “process” for awhile…at least until I could write on my own and realized I had no illustrative talent - cut and paste or otherwise.

Then, between the ages of 8 and 12 (okay, 14), I had American Girl Dolls. And I loved me some American Girl. It was like this intense competition between every other 8-12 year old girl over who could have the most (90 dollar) dolls, clothes, accessories, books, mini-dolls, horses, beds, “best friend” dolls, etc.; but I digress…

At some point during my AG obsession, they came out with a line of “Just Like You” dolls – you know, the kind where you select the skin color, hair color, eye color, etc. Well, actually no etc., that’s all you get to choose.

So anyways, these “Just Like You” dolls came with six books (an introduction, school, Christmas, birthday, something heroic, and something with a moral lesson), as all AG dolls do, but the “Just Like You” dolls came with six BLANK books. So, as I’m sure you’ve gathered, my next foray into the authoring world came about as I pieced together the story of my “Just Like You” doll (who just so happened to have blue eyes, red hair and light skin – entirely unlike myself, but that’s another blog post for another blog-iversary)’s fictional existence.



I basically stopped writing after that. Not entirely sure why. It may have had something to do with the fact that I was in school and reading and writing became this required foolishness, which left me little time to do the reading and writing my heart truly desired.

But now, I am going to write a novel. I’ve known for a while now that I wanted to write again. I go through books like it’s nobody’s business and every time I set one down, I think to myself, “I could’ve written that.” Of course, it’s never when I’m reading Chuck Klosterman or Wally Lamb, but I digress…In addition to my unwavering certainty in my own novel-ing abilities, my Boy and my buddy, Ryan (Cute Boy’s roommate), have been insisting for quite some time now that I write something – anything! I guess they just think I am that witty.

So anyways, that’s why I started this blog – to write something (anything!) every day. And it’s great, I love it, I can’t wait to write something every 2.5 hours. But now I feel it’s time to get back to my novel-ing roots. I’m going to be planning/strategizing/outlining for these next 9 months and then, in November, I am going to write it. That’s right – I am going to write the whole thing in November (well, 50,000 words at least). That’s the way NaNoWriMo works. The pressure to bust out a novel in a mere 30 days helps you to be less inhibited, less structured; it just lets you be free, creative and get words on a page.

So I’m feeling pretty splendid about that. It brings me one day closer to making my living by getting up in the morning and spending all day at my Macbook Air (fingers crossed) , writing, writing and writing some more…


Until then, back to real life and my real job. Le sigh…

Merry Monday to You !!

So, in spite of being one of two people working today (my coworker being the other one), today has been a pretty splendid day!  In the spirit of my newest read, "To-Do List: From Buying Milk to Finding a Soul Mate, What Our Lists Reveal About Us" by Sasha Cagen, I am going to list for you the reasons why today has been so excellent:

• The sun FINALLY came out, even though the gloomy morning was indicative of yesterday's stay-inside-and-read-all-day weather.
• My mocs came !!
• My boss sent me a particularly uplifting e-mail, informing me that I was "on fire!" with regards to all the hard work I've been doing lately.  Splendid, really.
• The lovely and talented Jessica, from Cuppycake Designs, will be designing my newest blog template and I am beyond excited about that!!
• I am planning my next visit home to Los Angeles, which is always something to look forward to...
• My Boy is cute and loving and great to me  - today and EVERY day - even if he did hold my house keys hostage yesterday
• Contrary to what you might think, since I am writing a blog post in the middle of the day, I am actually getting A LOT of work done today
• My mom just texted me and...man, I love that girl - she just makes me smile
• Even when every other business is closed, Starbucks is still open to fill me with warm "vanilla latte w/ whip" goodness

Okay, now your turn to make a list (which by the way, is the March theme at NaBloPoMo, so this could come in handy later if you're participating in that) - make a list of all the tasks you've been putting off that will feel really good to get done!

Happy Monday :)

The Almost Picture Perfect Sunday

Today had been a blissfully perfect Sunday up until a couple of minutes ago.  My Boy had to wake up early to go to work, but instead of making me get up and drive him, he just took my car and allowed me to keep sleeping until I finally got up around 11:30.  Even then, I didn't really get up but rather grabbed one of the books I just bought ("Baby Proof" by Emily Giffin) and proceeded to read the entire thing - that's right, the entire thing.  And today is not nearly as beautiful as yesterday, in fact, its downright cold (not that I would actually know, since I haven't been outside), gloomy and dark, so I don't feel bad at all having spent most of the day in bed.

So, after finishing my book, I get up and take a shower, expecting my Boy to be back anytime now.  I decide to make some Kraft Macaroni and Cheese (as that is the only thing that could make my Sunday any better), start boiling the water and realize I am out of milk.  So I call the Boy and I say, "Can you please pick up some milk on your way here?"  And I can tell from the sounds in the background that he has yet to even leave for my house as he rambles on to me the reasons why he probably won't be back at my house for several more hours.  No big deal; I am actually rather enjoying this day with myself, so I decide I will get the milk myself and we hang up.  Then I realize that the Boy has my car, which in turn means he has the keys to my car and thereby the keys to my house, meaning that even though I can easily walk across the street to get milk and can leave my front door unlocked, I have no way of leaving the main gate unlocked, as one of my unwaveringly douchebaggy neighbors will undoubtedly close it (and then later give me shit for having left it open).  I immediately tried to call the Boy back with the news that I could not, in fact, get milk without his presence (and more importantly, my keys), but of course he didn't answer this time.  So now, I sit here with my water still boiling (literally and figuratively) upset that my picture-perfect Sunday has been upset by the fact that I can't make my macaroni and cheese.

You don't have to tell me that I'm being irrational.  I know I am.  But it's a little frustrating when all I want is some damn milk and I can't get it because the Boy has my keys, is too busy to come back to my house and now, is not returning my phone call.  And really, deep down, I know that I could eat something else - even order in some pizza if I really wanted to; but unfortunately, now I do not want to.  The only thing in the world I want to eat right now is Kraft Macaroni and Cheese - with MILK!

My $8 Existence

I have $10.11 in my bank account right now which, actually, is an accomplishment.  My credit union tends to get a little cranky when I have less than $5 (or less than $0) in my account at any given time.  I could create a novella with all of the paper statements they have sent me asking me to please try and keep at least $5 in my account, but I digress...

Living off $10 is hard.  And I've been living off about $8 for the past two weeks in my heroic attempt to keep some money in my account (double what the minimum is, in fact!).  There's a Walgreens down the street from my work and you can buy Pepperoni Pizza Hot Pockets there for around $3 and, after you purchase those, you get a coupon which lets you buy TWO boxes of Hot Pockets for about $1.  And of course, as any starving twentysomething knows, every box of Hot Pockets comes with TWO Hot Pocket sandwiches, so these little babies have served as my lunch and dinner for the past two weeks - and I still have ten bucks in my bank account!

So obviously, I am pretty proud of myself.  But also fairly obvious is the fact that my $8 existence is pretty pathetic.  I mean, I have a full-time job at a successful PR company! Why am I living off Hot Pockets?*

So luckily, I am getting paid tomorrow (and I have a sweet gift certificate to Outback courtesy of a very splendid Valentine).  But what's the first thing I want to do when I get paid? I want to buy these sweet Minnetonka Moccasins:

And then I want to head to the bookstore and buy about 5 books I've had on my list since I began the Life of $8.  I want to get these two caterpillars crawling on my face above my eyes waxed.  I want to buy an anniversary gift for Cute Boy.  I want to put away money for my upcoming trip to Napa.  I want to pay my mother back the $200 I owe here from helping me purchase my bed back in 11/07.  I don't want, but have to, renew my parking permit for a pricey 60 bucks - which sucks doubly because I will probably only be living at this location for another four months and it's a year long pass.  I also don't want to, but have to, pay off the parking ticket I received over at Cute Boy's apartment last week when I took a nap and forgot to read the meter.  Blime.

And then, of course, I want to eat.  And not just Pepperoni Pizza Hot Pockets, even though they are so dear to my heart.** You see my dilemma, I'm sure. I am struggling with equal parts low salary, lots of monetary needs and even more monetary wants.

Last October, Elysa posted this money-saving post on GenPink.  Splendid advice, really.  Especially the part about selling books on Amazon (as opposed to my copious habit of...well, buying them).  So in the spirit of Elysa's frugality, here are my day-to-day ways to improve my finances:

Items I Have Implemented in My Life to Save Money

• Um...yeah. I buy my Hot Pockets with coupons?
• I eat the office supply of Whoppers (the malted milk ball, not the hamburger) for a healthy, mid-day snack.
• Hmm...okay, moving on!

Things I Plan to Start Doing

• Using coupons for ALL my food shopping!
• Actually, shopping for food instead of going out to eat it.
• Not buying too many unnecessary purchases (like moccasins AND a new collection of books - just one or the other).
• Bringing my lunch to work.
• Plucking my caterpillars myself :/
• Resisting the urge to buy every magazine at the newsstand and understanding that they all say basically the same thing anyway.
• Eating breakfast at home instead of buying a bagel on the way to work every morning.
• Not driving to work :(
• Showering my Cute Boy with more kisses and less expensive presents.
• Getting a raise!  Woot !!

*You'll be happy to hear that I convinced Cute Boy that, as my one-and-only Valentine, it his duty to take me to lunch today.

**I am now too poor even to afford these Hot delights and have resorted to eating Whoppers to keep from fainting.  Blimey.

Happy VD

That's what my Cute Boy said to me this morning.  Happy VD.  So romantic.

In other news, I am hesitant to discuss VD today because I've been under the impression these past few weeks that anyone who is not in a romantic relationship has a general "fuck VD" attitude towards VD and automatically has a "fuck you" attitude towards me for being in love.

Understandable.  Never really hated the holiday myself, considering my mom was always such a kickass valentine, but it does feel good to have my own sweetie-pie to lay some smooches on this year (especially since mom is all the way in LA), so I kind of understand the hostility.  Kind of.

So in the spirit of celebrating love and not showering everyone with vomit-inducing declarations of love for my Boy, following are some other things that make me feel all warm and fuzzy and pink and red inside:

My Family

Slice of Pink

This adorable personal website/blog I found last night.  The lovely Ms. Janet loves pink, macaroni & cheese and Friends which kind of makes me think I should lose the Cute Boy and ask her to be my Valentine...

My first blog commenter, Maxie.  It made my heart smile to wake up this morning and see a new comment on my blog (well, two new comments actually, but I accidentally rejected one - blimey.) 

Mr. Obama. And progress.

And finally, as the lovely Ms. Maxie reminded me, today is National Step Up 2 Day...

...and I love me some dancing in the streets.

So, in addition to my Cute Boy, there's so much to love today! Have a splendid VD, everyone <3