Making out, why Google chat is awesome and morning tweets

My new favorite conversation from my very dear friend (you may want to sit down... this one's a doosey):

Gretchen: oh! and my morning tweet (I thought you would appreciate): Ah, coffee. The warm hug everyone deserves in the morning. Except you, Brett Favre. You're still an asshole.

Kristy: LOL

Gretchen: since you're not on twitter I feel the need to share

Kristy: love it

absolutely

Gretchen: and this not drinking thing really makes me clever in the morning

weird

Kristy: haha, i wouldn't know!

Gretchen: I don't really recommend it. It was simply an observation.

Kristy: i love you!!!!!

Gretchen: haha I love you too!!!!!!!!

wanna make out?

lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala

Kristy: lalalalalalalalallala

Gretchen: oh my god. I love us

Kristy: ME TOO!

And that's how The Awesome does it.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do. So's Your Mom.

Dear Cyber-Universe,

Have you ever had to break up with someone you still love, someone you can't imagine living without, someone you've been with for a long time, because you know waaaay down deep inside that in the long run, it's better that you two go your separate ways? Because I just did that. Here I am... less than 6 months from 30, in the middle of the healthiest, most fun, hottest relationship of my life, and I decide that it's time to end it. And I still stand by my decision, but I have people all around me telling me what a good guy he is, how wonderful he treated me, how much he still loves me (these are MY friends... jerks), which I'm left to sit there, feeling like the jerk who broke a good heart.

It's one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, but I know I HAD to do it. We're trying to remain friends. What are the odds that we'll both still want to be friends after a while?

Sometimes the only thing that gets me though is the thought that this HAS to be the worst of it. It simply must get better.

Any advice out there? Kind words? Hell, even call me an asshole... you wouldn't be the first.

Sunrise, Boozy Lobsters and Crazy People

This is what it looks like when you get up at dark-thirty to catch a flight. Kinda makes it worthwhile.

Between furlough days, the holidays, and travel days, I've been pretty busy. The pic above is from the window of my flight leaving Santa Barbara going to Los Angeles on my way to Tahoe for Christmas. (Jesus that makes me sound like a snob)

This lobster is hammied.

I've been drinking. A lot. And it's fun. This lobster was guarding my champagne at a local seafood restaurant during happy hour a few days before New Years.

It's no wonder I drink so much...

Then, it was time to go back to work, and deal with all the crazies. No wonder I drink. Sweet baby Jesus, please find me a new job.

It was a good Holiday Season. I went a little crazy, but that tends to happen. I'm lucky to still have friends and JD to support me and pull me out of my crazyhead when I need them too. More pics to come, and petty posts, I promise.

Friends who are kocked up, Disneyland and Furlough

Well hello there! It's been so long! First I must apologize for leaving that horrific post of my disgusting food up for so long. It made ME not want to visit my blog. My stomach still turns just thinking about it.

So, I must be honest... the goings on recently have not been very exciting. I have quit all of my extracurricular activities (although, as the boyfriend, JD, pointed out this morning while I was in the shower poking at my foopah -- that lower belly fat that simply doesn't go away -- commenting on how I miss drinking beer and "being active" since I quit everything... he claims I never quit... I simply retired. Semantics, my friend, semantics). And although I may not be doing too many active things other than working out my thumb via rapid-clicker-fire on the couch... many of my friends have bee gettin' busy... in the dirty sense. I know this because HOLYSHITTHEYAREALLKNOCKEDUP. All of them. Knocked up. Like little Mormon kids.

Some have already had their first kid and are on to their second, some are just going in for the first helping, some are married, some are living in sin preparing to raise a bunch of heathens... I don't judge... I don't care... just stop making me buy you presents and then forcing me to watch you open every. single. one. I'll buy you a present to take home and open. If I have to watch you open it in front of me, I'm going to run up screaming, snatch it back, and run away. Far, far away.

I promise you this: When I get knocked up and have a shower were I invite everyone I've ever met so I can get all kinds of free shit (half of which I won't know what to do with because oh my god, I put that WHERE? and WHHHHYYYYYY?) I will NOT sit there and open every single present, admire it, get up to thank the gift giver, admire again, and comment on the cuteness, or practical-ness, or thoughtfulness of the gift. And don't waste your money on a card. Write who it's from on the freaking bag in sharpie and put that money toward the gift. Or toward yourself. I don't care. But I don't like to read. It's going to be a civilized party, like a wedding, where you get to open and comment on your gifts in the privacy of your own home, which allows you to be completely honest and return things at will. And everyone gets drunk. You're welcome.

Now, I usually don't mind buying gifts for people who are crossing off one of those items on life's to-do list. However, we're in a recession. And I just got furloughed. That's right. The government makes the official announcement that we are no longer in a recession, and I get freaking furloughed. 20% across the board. Friday's off, and one day less pay a week. All I have to say is: ouch. My problem with getting paid less, or going on a budget, is that I always tend to go out and totally blow my wad in one foul swoop the day after I start anything official.

In unrelated news, I'm going to Disneyland this weekend.

Borrowing Money from Friends

Do you ever borrow money from friends? Do you lend money to friends? I'm not talking about a HUGE amount, like a down payment to a house, or thousands of dollars to bankroll their illegal midget fighting habit in the basement (I'm not sure if that means midgets fights are illegal, or if the midgets themselves are illegal... as in, not in America legally). I'm talking about a hundred dollars, maybe two hundred dollars at a whack. Sure, we all borrow and lend ten bucks here and there, but at what point does it become too much?

I have recently realized that the only time I lend friends money is when I think I will benefit in some way. Don't have enough to go out with me to that really nice dinner? I'll spot you some cash. Can't quite afford those airplane tickets so we can go on vacation? No problem, we'll just put it on my card and you can pay me back later.

It. Has. To. Stop. Right. Now.

There are now two people who owe me money, my best friend and my boyfriend. And I've tried to cash in, however, they are both perpetually broke and can't pay me back right away. However, each has dealt with the situation very differently. Allow me to clarify...

The BFF, Tabby (as mentioned earlier when I thought our boyfriends grew vagina's) and I went on vacation to New York. I bought her plane tickets for her 30th birthday (I know, I'm awesome), and we were going to stay with her friends who live in the city, so it was supposed to be pretty cheap. Oh, I must mention... Tabby doesn't have a job, hasn't had a job for quite some time, and it currently enrolled in grad school, but does not have financial aide. That is all good, no biggie, good for her for furthering her life. Problem being? The trip ended up much more costly than anticipated (New York pricey?! No way!), so I spotted her some cash here and there just so we could both enjoy the trip. By the end of the trip, she ended up owing me around $350. This was in May. It's now almost October. AND she's paid me back everything BUT $100. No problem. She wants to work out a payment plan, add interest, etc. (One of the many reasons I love her... she's got amazing pride and won't back down for anyone).

The BF, JD, wanted to BUY ME a plane ticket to fly to Detroit to meet his parents, attend a wedding where I would meet all of his hometown friends AND hit up the family BBQ for Labor Day. Aw... how nice! HOWEVER... The man bought the tickets on Priceline, named his own price, then was disappointed when we weren't flying during a convenient time. Like an asshole, I piped up and offered to pay for the difference in the price of the tickets. So, here's what actually happened... (brace yourself, there are numbers and math coming up) (jeebus I love bullet points)

• Price of original tickets: $600
• Fee to cancel ticket on Priceline: $200
• Cost of new tickets: $750
• Amount I'm owed from JD (in his mind): $400
• Amount he was willing to pay me last week: $300 (never received)
• Amount he is willing to pay me this week: "$100-$200" after I requested payment

Now I'm pissed, irritated, and want to scream at him to grow up and give me my damn money! Am I wrong? I'm sure some of this is my fault... I offered, I didn't lay down the rules ahead of time, I'm just NOW asking for payment... but really, do I have to ask for payment from my own boyfriend when he's the one who owes me money? I don't know how this works, but I'm never doing it again, I'll tell you that much.

Except maybe if there's a real midget fight that needs to be bankrolled. Damn that would be awesome.

The Obligitory Birthday Fortnight

August 2nd was the last birthday I will ever have in my 20s. A friend (who is 30, with a house and a husband and a child), was sure to point that out a few days prior to my actual birthday. I hadn't thought about it until RIGHT THEN. I freaked out for... about 4 seconds, then didn't care anymore. Age is not what matters. How awesome you are is the only thing that counts. And, since I'm pretty damn awesome, I really don't have anything to worry about.

It's been a tradition that started in college, that you don't just get one day, or the weekend closest to your actual birthday to celebrate. Oh no. You get an entire fortnight. And since everyone seems to be catching on that this will be the LAST fortnight in my 20s (I mean seriously, do these people just sit around thinking about this shit all long?!), it's a BIG fortnight. I had a softball game on the actual day-of (hence the misleading hippy-vibe I am giving off in the picture below--team uniforms), but the team surprised me at the dive bar across from the field with drinks and a cake! We lost the game, and I was burping up a very strange cake/beer situation in the middle of the 3rd inning, but it was pretty awesome.

(What is REALLY AWESOME is that it says "Adolf" on the chalkboard to the left of my head in the picture below. AND I'm wearing hippy-Nazi red)

This weekend there are two surprise-days happening. One where I get to wear yoga pants (my friends are awesome) and one where I'm going to see an airshow.

AND THEN, on Monday, I'm going to see Miranda Lambert at the Ventura County Fair for the second time in two months. (see?! Told you I was awesome).

Now that I've spent at least 5 minutes of your time talking about ME, I want you to wish me a happy birthday fortnight and move along with your day.

Be sure to check back soon. Why? Because I said so.

Wait, Our Boyfriends Grew Vaginas?

There are two types of girls: those who can maintain a healthy relationship without alienating everyone around her and appearing codependent and needy, and those who can't. And, just like high-maintenance girls, the worst kind of girl is the girl who doesn't think she's the codependent/alienating type, but actually IS.

Case in point: I have a friend, who we will call Tabby, who has been dating this guy for 5+ months. A new relationship, yes. They are allowed to still be excited about seeing each other and get butterflies in their stomachs when they accidentally brush hands, or one puts their arm around the other in public. However, neither of these two have jobs. That's right... they wake up mid-morning, in the same bed, wander out to the same couch, watch the same TV show, eat the same lunch, dinner and snack. They go to bed in the same bed and do it all over again the next day. So my theory is; given the amount of time they spend together, they may as well have been dating for at least 2 years.

With that in mind... here's our most recent conversation:

• Tabby: I was thinking about coordinating a girls night tomorrow night, what do you think?
• Me: That sounds great! 
• Tabby: Cocktails then Sex and the City then more cocktails?
• Me: That's perfect! I was considering going to see Sex and the City by myself tomorrow night anyway! (don't judge me) 

 NEXT DAY

• Tabby: Morning friend! We still on for tonight?
• Me: Abso-fucking-lutely!
• Tabby: I was thinking... maybe we could meet up with the boys after the movie
• Me: Did our boyfriends grow vaginas?

I mean, how is it, over the course of 12 hours she realized that she would be spending more than four hours away from her man, and at what point IS THAT A BAD THING?!

At least I can still look in the mirror and see perfection.

(Okay, now even I can't even keep a straight face at that)