Essence, youthful essence that is.

I'm going to make a confession and it is slightly embarrassing, but not embarrassing enough to keep it under the sink. After all, in a few short weeks, all of you bitches are going to be asking me what I have done different. What's causing my unexpected glow; have I lost a few pounds? Have I quit drinking? Am I pregnant?(and the answer to this last one is no, no, no!)

"Nothing of the sort," I'll reply rather smugly. But then, I'll lean into you in a conspiratorial manner and whisper in your ear,

"you mention this to anyone, and I'll slit your throat with a butter knife..."

...and of course you'll agree to keep your trap shut because you want to know why I look so glow-y and youthful and you don't want your throat slit.

I got suckered into an infomercial and bought Susan Lucci's Youthful Essence off the boob tube one bored and uneventful Saturday afternoon. I figured if Susan Lucci, who is about as old as dirt but looks young enough to be my mom uses this stuff, then I'm gonna try it too. Prior to Mz Lucci's Youthful Essence, my beauty regimen included washing my face with Irish Spring while rinsing out my hair in the shower. I be fancy.

After I ripped open the box of youth and slathered that crap all over my face, it felt like a baby's ass and I loved it.

Naturally, I quit using it because it took too much effort to feel like a smooth bottom. Until this week...my face decided to relive the days of our youth and pop out some zits and dry skin. Which doesn't make sense...how can my face be super, flaky, leper-dry and still pump out enough grease to cause some major volcanic activity? So enters Susan Lucci from underneath the sink cabinet...I microdermal-abrasioned my face and it again feels baby ass smooth.

I'll probably use and abuse Susan and her essence until I get bored or lazy, but in the meantime, if you see me, you don't have to worry about my DNA samples flaking off my cheek and gently settling on your collar when I hug you hello.

Extremes

Ya'll know what I hate, but have you ever wondered what I love?

Me neither until my latest rant. I feel like I should balance things out with a little love. (and not the obvious stuff like I like to laugh or I love my kid and I preemptively hate anyone who will hurt him in the future. That is just a given)

1) On the flip side of stupid and lazy, I love stunningly smart and motivation. Anyone who has a combination of those 2 qualities, will be my friend for life.

2) I am a fan of giving. I love to give shit away. If I don't need something, I would rather give it to someone who can use it or needs it. It's not altruistic, but rather, very pragmatic. With that said, I love it when people give me shit that they don't need, but I do. I love my new-to-me bar stools (thanks momma day!) I'll give anything away as long as it is not bolted down, it belongs to me and it is not a person. And I'm talking big items too. One time, my sister gave me her orange 280Z because my car died and she was going to Guatamala to teach. First of all, score on the color!! I loved that orange car! And second of all, it was FREE!! I later gave it to someone else. A few years ago, a friend of mine got her car stolen. I gave her my car because I just purchased a new car and my old one was just sitting around getting rusty. She is still driving it around today. I LOVE that shit! My motto, give it away if you don't need that shit...and if you have shit you don't need, call me first.

3) I love to organize. You could never tell by my office, but I have a general idea where stuff is because there is a system in place...that only I know. I also love that I gave that trait to my son. We spent all weekend reorganizing a room in our house and we had a blast. Along the same vein, I love checklists. I make them all the time. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE checking off or crossing out the things on my list. Even when I grocery shop, I have a list and a pen handy and I cross things off as I put stuff in my cart. It is the cheap and easy high to list making, but I still love it.

4) I love sex. No need to elaborate on this one, but just to clarify, I love sex with my boyfriend. I hate sex with strangers, nonconsentual sex and sex in public places. That kinda creeps me out. Other than those things, I have no conditions regarding sex. I love sex. (except anal, I won't do anal)

5) I love food. A lot. In fact, I find it amazing that I don't dig sex and food at the same time. But I think I wouldn't enjoy the mess or cleaning it up afterwards. Plus I think licking whipped cream off of someone's sac would produce an odd and unpleasant assortment of flavors and textures on my tongue. However, just seeing food on my plate (or even yours) makes me salivate. I actually made the conscious decision to stop patroning buffets because my brain can't tell my hand to put the fork down.

6) I love to personally challenge myself. I set goals for myself all the time and try to outdo myself. When I beat myself, it feels good.

PS: I hate lazy people too

As I mentioned in the post below, stupid people suck. Lazy people are right up there too. I hate lazy people but not as much as stupid people. God forbid if you are stupid and lazy!! Holy crap, lazy, stupid people tend to fall under the radar and they seem to live forever because though they are stupid enough to win a Darwin Award, they are too lazy to actually do something that could potentially take them out of the gene pool.

Occasionally, I am lazy and don't do shit, like when I am sick, or that one time when I broke my toe and didn't want to hobble down the street because my armpits hurt, so I opted not to eat that night. Or that time I couldn't run for 6 weeks because my damn lazy knee told me to fuck off, it was restin' time.

And I have alluded below that I have also been stupid. Barring all of 2009 (so far), I could have counted those opaque moments on my right hand. Like marrying a retard. That was just plain stupid. I should have just politely handed him a cup and asked for a clean sample instead of going through the motions of marriage and divorce. Also that perm in the 8th grade was an unfortunate decision (and an agonizingly long and drawn out decision, as hair does not grow-out overnight and I didn't want to make another poor decision to try and fix my original mistake by shaving my head because I don't believe the world will ever be ready to view a gigantic, rectangular-shaped noggin in it's full glory)and a few other doozies that I wont mention on this post but have mentioned on previous posts.

But dumb AND lazy is a whole new race of people that was bred as a direct result of innovation and technology. I'd explain, but I'm too lazy to finish my thought.

Self Deprecation

If I've said it once, I've said it 1000 times...I fucking hate stupid people. They make me go in a blind rage and then a sullen, saliva dripping stupor because I'm not sure how to wipe the planet of this scourge of stupidity that's spreading like a Malibu wild fire.

If you're not sure if I'm referring to you, then I probably am. Fucking fuckers. Stupid ass licks...

(I felt kind of dirty for writing bad words on my blog, reminds me of the days when I would scream as loud as I could into my pillow, "I hate that fucking hypocritical, right-winged, christian, mother." She never heard me, but if she did, she would have surely used liquid soap in my mouth and not the bar)

...and, yes, sometimes I hate myself. No one appears to be immune.

unique

I've been called "unique" and "unusual" by many people in my life and it recently dawned on me that it is not a compliment.

Bleeding all over the place

The Monthly Rag is International! It has been read in places like Africa, London, Singapore, South America and Australia! The search results are mainly from people who are interested in copraphilia or urologia and also, Clint Coxwell keeps clicking on the site. (Quit stalking me stalker!) I think he just wants to see if there are any more posts about him and dammit, now there is. (con artist: 2, me: 1)

Even though my resolution was to not drink before noon, I suppose that now I have an alleged international fan base of 2 followers, I should consider making steady and consistent withdrawals from my head bank and post more topics related to sexual fetishes and psychotic liars.

Resolution

For 2009, it actually crossed my mind that I should resolve to not drink every day of the year but, if 2009 is anything like 2008, my new year's resolution is that I won't drink every day of the year before noon.

Drunk Sex

I HIGHLY recommend that if you are going to engage in the activity of drunk sex, make sure one of you is sober and make sure the sober one is you. It's more fun plus you have a steadier hand when using the camcorder. (just joking! I mean I erased everything)

Throw up vs. Vomit

It doesn't matter what you call it, all I know is I can't get the smell out of my car. Apparently 6 year olds can get car sick. Who freaking knew? All I remember of this lasting moment is the slo-mo vision of my son expeling bucketsful of orange slop in the backseat of my semi-new car. I might as well trade it in because the smell is lingering like the pesky dead body of an ex-boyfriend. I bet if I drove my car into a deep ravine, the ravine would start to smell like puke. I bet if I drove it into a lake, all of the fish would taste like vomit.

Everytime I get in my car, I get queasy. I hate the smell of throw-up. When I smell it, the contents in my tummy start to behave as though they are training for the circus. The only exit is up. It takes just about all I have to keep my intenstines from making a guest appearance on the side of my car.

Vinegar doesn't work, Febreeze doesn't work, a stink bomb doesn't work, cutting out the fabric and interlacing the hole with yarn and potpourri doesn't work. I am considering asking him to poop in my car to mask the smell of his throw-up. My rationale is that I am a sympathetic puker, not a sympathetic pooper.

Marathon Blues

I was so bummed about the Pasadena Marathon being cancelled, I lounged on my couch all day and watched Friday Night Lights until I couldn't stand it anymore and then proceeded to move to my bedroom and watch the 5th season of The Wire until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. Plus I ate chips and drank some beer. This is the kind of marathon training I've been missing.

In a few days, I'll don the sneakers and get back on the horse for the next race, but until then, YES that is a greasy cheese stain on the front of my shirt and YES that is a double chin on my face...and NO, I will not get up and fetch you a beer.

That requires moving.