daily tarot card

"The Ten of Swords card suggests that my power today lies in acceptance. It's over and done in no uncertain terms. I recognize, surrender to or accept the finality of the truth or consequences in order to look to the future or have "changed my mind." I let go of all attachment or resistance to sustaining conditions that don't work or are out of my hands. E tu brute? I can't move forward by beating a dead horse. It's the last word so put a period on it and move on. I am empowered by truth and consequences and my virtue is liberation or release from suffering, uncertainty or victimhood."




im sorry. im not sure i understand what you're trying to say. maybe if you tried being more direct...

outlaw

apparently tap water doesnt exist where i live...

(and yes, this was my day after christmas shopping. thats how boring i am.)

urban family

ive always been the sort to have friends who didnt necessarily know or hang out with each other. in college this always worked well for me cause im non-committal and like being able to have options (in high school i was a huge loser who mostly stayed in and did extra credit homework on the weekends). living in syracuse was my first real taste of what it was like to have a set group of people that i expected to see if not everyday, then certainly every weekend. somehow, we all ended up in d.c. which took the pressure off having to make new friends, or meet new people. however, in the past couple years most of these gals have moved (or gotten married); and while i still have awesome friends who i absolutely love, i dont see most of them as much as i would like.

suddenly, without realizing it, i seem to have made a new little clique of girls who i see and or talk to almost every day. it occurred to both wilson and i simultaneously when we realized we'd spent the past week of friday, saturday, and the occasional sundays, drinking, dancing and laughing with the same girls.

i present the smurfettes:



um, i swear, despite the fact that they look like they're all leaning away from me, they are indeed my friends.

ho ho ho!

yes, its 11:30 on christmas day, and im blogging. christmas day is always a little awkward in my opinion. like so many other things, i prefer the build up to the actual event. to me, the anticipation is most of the fun. after the presents are unwrapped, i sit there, tired, grumpy and needing coffee, and not really sure what to do with myself. unlike my three year old niece, i cant amuse myself with the millions of barbies i got, and a girl can only watch 24 hours of a christmas story so many times before she no longer cares about ralphie not being able to put his arms down. so here i sit, after having already logged onto myspace (yep. im a loser. though, in my defense, today is a friends birthday [more on her to come] and i wanted to send her birthday wishes).

however, it must be said, i had a fantastic christmas even before christmas. my sister took control of the shopping for my dad this year which resulted in a lovely kenneth cole bag for work, and some perfume. im not sure what has lead to his sudden generosity, but i dont plan to question it. he has apparently realized we are no longer 7, and that we're girls and therefore like things like make-up and purses. i shit you not, three years ago the man gave me bonny bell makeup and not in an ironic way.

my other parents, d.n.b. and s.b. also gave me a fantastic gift, though not specifically a christmas present:

they went to thailand for their honeymoon, and since they couldnt smuggle me out a little thai boy, they brought me back a tote bag from "cabbages and condoms" featuring a little condom man, because apparently when my friends think of me, they think of little men made out of condoms.

and finally, a.t. is treating me to a mani-pedi at a spa in exchange for taking care of her furballs which i can hardly wait for! my friends are too good to me!!

um... i dont understand

you probably cant read what this says, so allow me to read it to you: its a recipe for macaroni and cheese from a cook book. im sure youre thinking to yourself, whats so damned special about that? well, let me tell you: its a recipe for kraft macaroni and cheese. for reals. the recipe, in its entirety, is this: water, "spread", boxed kraft macaroni and cheese, and milk. why does this necessitate its own entry in a cookbook?!? were people CONFUSED by how to make macaroni and cheese from a box? and if so, do these same people have any use for a cookbook?

mama got a brand new bag

dear residents of the c'dub:

please disregard the past year of my hateful stares, eyerolling and general annoyance at your continued existence and inability to master your fuse boxes. im not yet prepared to forgive you for the vomit in the elevator, or the time that guy took a dump in the hallway, but i can now look back with fondness at the guy who spent the night on the couch drunk, passed out, and, oh thats right, NAKED (poor thing had a touch of the irish curse).

you have my christmas bonus, and the tano bag i bought with it, to thank for that.

xoxo,

van nasty

p.s. on a tangentially related note, let me say how awesome it is to be young and single. i feel no moral duty to do something responsible with my money, and have no obligation to clothe or feed anyone but myself. though i may do something charitable, like buy britney spears some undies, just because its the holidays.

greatest. headline. evah!

shortage forces scottish soldiers to share their kilts . as if that wasnt great enough, they managed to sneak "snafu" into the headline, and start the article with "great scot!" apparently 13 year old cheerleaders are now writing for the associated press. i bet within a week they'll be using smiley faces and shit like "rotfl".

tribe

(because im too lazy to write)

2 mins to largo, 30 mins to bed

So the standard has menues with different pictures on them, and I'm 85% certain that the a.s. is on a menu (which is possible since he went to ucla). How sad is that that I can't even positively identify my good friend/naughty night time fantasy?

p.s.a.

Travelling with a duffel bag with skulls and crossbones stitched on, is the best way to ensure that your bag will get a thorough hand on bra and panties examination by t.s.a. Sometimes you just like the extra personal attention.

netflix this for your late nite viewing pleasure

If you ever have the chance to see "invincible" I highly recommend it. Marky mark + wet t-shirt + football = awesome.

la wrap up

Its 6am I'm sitting at dulles waiting for the metro bus which means it'll be two hours before I'm home. I wish I'd had more time to explore la, pick up a hottie tattoed musician, or at least visit an in'n'out (aside: the mini bar at the standard had a box of condoms that said "slip it on. Slide it in." I thought about expensing a few boxes but thought that might have sent the wrong message).

Jb and I saw kareem abdul jabar (and no I don't know how to spell that) at the airport and I earned cool points by a) pointing him out, and b) actually knowing who he was (lucky guess. I could have just as easily said "isn't that magic johnson?").

I also just heard that britney spears was in out hotel, which means paris was in our hotel, which means I narrowly avoided contracting herpes or the clap. Or it britney's case, barely managed not to get pregnant by k-fed. I'm guessing his swimmers are strong enough that I could have gotten knocked up just by sitting in a chair next to britney (though if I'm going to have k-fed's baby, I'd like to do it the old fashioned way).

As for luke danes (I refuse to call him by his given name) I was with the boys at the time and I was trying not to seem like a starfucker and totally kirk out. Jb says I nearly wet my panties (which I did just in a different way) but I think I checked myself considering what I really wanted to do was take him in the corner and smurf him till he couldn't smurf anymore.

In conclusion, I will miss the weather, the scenery, and the vanilla citrus cucumber martinis which are less disgusting than they sound. I can't to much about the weather or the scenery but I bet mike at ellas could recreate the martini.

dewey decimal is outdated

Monday night I ran into dewey. And I don't mean I stalked him at the library. No, I accidentally, literally physically ran into him on the street at 17th and P. What did he say you ask? "Its weird to see you. On. the. Street. I. Mean." Yah dude I'm sure that is what you mean. Despite the fact that it was painfully awkward and that no good could possibly come from this, I still plan to call him. Remind me of this moment and this decision in a few days when I cry about my recently rebroken heart.

daft punk is playing on the roof, the roof

I know the la music scene cannot be behind the dc scene so why have I heard punjab m.c. "beware" and lcd soundsystem "daft punk" both in one night? Is it still 1997 in la?

rando thoughts

I think the bump the girl sitting next to me took must have just kicked in. She is sitting at a table with two generically good looking struggling d-list actors (one blonde and one brunette) and suddenly they went from almost an orgy to a screaming "fuck you bitch" competition. She and the brunette were fighting for the blondes attenention and I thought for a minute the three of them were going to throw off their clothes and do it right there on the table and theeeeen the screaming began. I'm sure they're still going to have a threesome but its going to take at least 10 more minutes for the brunettes to convince the blonde to want to trust them with his naked body.

i have fulfilled my fantasy of being lorelai

I heart the gilmore girls. And even more, I heart luke danes. Luke danes the gruff dinner owner who carried a horoscope (given to him by lorelai the first day they met) in his wallet for years before presenting it to her on a date. Luke danes who sat a mere 3 feet away from me at the standard - he is as hot as I though but, taller. Unfortunately he was also renting a room with a girl by the hour. Okay that's not true, I think he was in the hotel room doing an interview but that's not as good a story.

live and die in LA

I'm blogging pool side from the standard on sunset strip drinking a citron mango jasmine martini and internally giggling over how redunkulous la is. Everyone is gorgeous. Everyone! Even the ugly people in la are still gorgeous. There are no rachel ray's in la shall we say. Everyone sounds like a moron and has the depth of a puddle. And I'm the only fat girl ever to be let in the city limits. I'm a total freak show. People have been lining up and taking pictures. I'm like an la cautionary tale. I'm the reason california women drink triple tall skinny no whip no foam lattes. And, now that my two cute male coworkers have gone to bed, I couldn't get a waitresses to spit on me if I got naked and lit myself on fire.

do they have a match.com for this?!?

yesterday, a.h. and i realized that ive dated two people that she went to high school with, which for anyone keeping track, is two more than i ever dated from my own high school. ive already told her i wont be her date to her 10 year high school reunion. although i am thinking of posting an online ad seeking out guys from corning, ny. apparently, those are my type.

p.s.

to the person from l.a. who found my blog by googling "was in the car and feeling queasy and puked in plastic bag," i'll be staying on sunset strip next week if you want to hang out.

i actually had a great weekend, which i will tell you about when i no longer feel like killing people.

hurrah for brides in human cup-cake dresses.

i love the overall effect of this picture. i love the headless/q-tip/mannequin feel that can partly be attributed to bad lighting, and partly to my finger blocking the lens.

that is all for now.

(im redunkulously crabby and in a completely shiteous mood for no apparent reason [other than the tangible proof that im not knocked up] and just lost a document ive been working on for two days. and have noticed an uncomfortable deja vu pattern in my love life: i dont hear from the boy i want to hear from. i focus all my telekinetic energies on making him call and instead some other boy who i dont like re-emerges. telekenesis is not something to be fooled with kiddies. maybe i'll meet a hot, dirty tattooed boy in l.a. le sigh. one can hope... although, despite all my bitching, i went to a fabu brunch this morning and got to eat awesome food with yummy girls, drool over hot boys [there was a lovely boy at brunch who i wanted to take into the corner and smurf until my thighs turned blue], cuddle an infant, and pet a dog. so, not all bad. the baby was so soft and cuddly. i was tempted to skin him and make myself a coat. well, more like a pair of gloves.)

girl logic

i just ran to the store and bought a twix, a snickers and a light iced coffee. clearly the "light" coffee is going to make all the difference. i mean, its obviously the milk in my coffee making me fat.

my family would be so proud!

im wearing spanx under my pants today. i feel like im wearing the infamous "undergarments;" like ive gone back to my roots!

i date assholes so you dont have to!

its finally time to admit to myself that liking someone isnt enough to make a relationship work; apparently there is the pesky problem of them liking you in return. you would think i would have learned this by now; after all, my love life is nothing if not a series of pilots never picked up for series.

lessons i have learned the hard way:

someone asking you out doesnt amount to a whole lot if they dont actually show up.

someone asking you out, then two days later saying that they'll have to play it by ear based on how wild their saturday night is, is an ass who has no interest in you, but doesnt have the balls to tell you that.

no one is so busy that they cant return a phone call.

someone who isnt willing to go out with you and your friends on a friday night, but is happy to meet up with you after the bars have closed, isnt your boyfriend.

everyone has issues, but some people have subscriptions and i'd like to cancel mine.

he was talking about you when he said to bring the sexy back

in honor of her 25th birthday, i'd like to offer brit-brit some suggestions to help her bring back the hot.

25. stop hanging out with paris. you get enough press on your own.
24. disinfect any clothes you may have lent her.
23. cut off the hand you use to hold hers while you parade around like drunken whores at parties; no amount of lysol is going to get rid of the flesh-eating bacteria you caught from her.
22. learn to exit a car without showing your lady bits to the world.
21. realize that the kids living in your house are your children and act appropriately.
20. hire a stylist (just not rachel zoe), and some p.r. people. and some handlers. and a new makeup artist. and someone whose job in life it is to ensure that you are always wearing shoes (much like mariahs straw supervisor).
19. buy some bras and panties; lets follow victoria's lead and keep some things a secret.
18. start hanging out with madonna again; i think she may actually be a good influence on you (as counter-intuitive as that may sound).
17. reach out to xtina; she seems to have found a way to grow up, wash the slut off, get married, and stay musically relevant (or as relevant as pop music can be).
16. recognize that back up dancers are for screwing, not marrying.
15. remember that pre-nups are your friend.
14. no more vegas. ever. much like me and target, you simply cannot go and act responsibly.
13. no more trucker hats.
12. no more vintage or ironic message tees. they havent been cute since 2001. (though i will confess to being amused by your "im a virgin but this is an old shirt" wife beater).
11. while we're on the topic of wife beaters, lets get something straight, those are appropriate for: sleeping in, lounging-on-the-couch-watching-the-golden-girls-and-eating-raw-cookie-dough in, and sneaking out to grab the paper while praying no one sees you. they are not, however, appropriate for: work, clubs, or public appearances.
10. if you are going to become the unofficial spokewoman for cheetos, get an endorsement deal.
9. no more red bull (that shit cant be good for you).
8. wigs: just say no!
7. two words: gym membership (a joke coming from me, but im not britney effing spears).
6. continue to refuse to star in cross roads: the jessica simpson biography, the harrowing tale of a pop starlet trying to cross the street.
5. remember that youre supposed to be a singer, so try and record an album or something.
4. look into meeting that nice kelly clarkson girl. you never hear about her flashing photographers or screwing someone in the bathroom during her 25th birthday party (didnt think i had heard about that did you?).
3. check in with j.t. just to see if he and cameron really are happy.
2. interviews are not your friend.
1. when you are about to drop your child or your drink and you can only choose one, choose your child.

and one to grow on: never, ever, say youre "country" again.

deep thoughts

i made indian food this morning... and tonight, im going to have to burn down my apartment to get the smell out.

did harvey pick those out?!

correct me if im wrong, but isnt the point of wearing a belt to keep your pants from falling off? did she REALLY think that would be a problem? i dont know what it took to slide her into those pleather leggings (though if i had to guess i would say it included a bottle of porn grade lubricant) but im pretty sure she is going to have to cut her way out of those later tonight.

and WHAT is with your husband and his serious case of gay face?!?

four cheers for unexpectedly awesome nights

cheers for hot girls in cleavage baring dresses giving us their best bj faces

cheers for telling us exactly what you think of us

cheers for aggressive girl on girl (on girl) action on the dance floor

cheers for having church up in the club, dancing like an ass surrounded by friends, and having the time of your life

(ironic) rant: selfish people

i appreciate that sitting at the front desk effectively makes me a captive audience, but please dont confuse that with my being a receptive audience. i am pleasant to you because it is my job and i am paid to do it. and, in small doses, i sometimes like you. however, hearing the very intimate details of your sex life, skeeves me out, not to mention its a grossly inappropriate topic of conversation for the lobby. and, your obsession isnt cute (you know, the way it is when i do it), its just annoying.

frankly, im having a crappy boy day myself and all of my energy is being spent feeling bad for me; i dont really have any left to feel bad for you too.

what? this didnt catch on?!?

"pepsi: it tastes christian"

proposed u.s. border fence: "keep out!... or just go around"

"living: the number one cause of death."