What the HELL am I eating?!

We're in a recession, so I've been cooking more at home. I have also been on Weight Watchers for the last four months and have lost a pretty decent amount of weight (and is also a reason to cook more at home). So when I sat down to eat today's lunch, which consisted of leftover "Vietnamese Noodle Salad" I was okay with it. Until I looked at it. All I saw was worms.

What the hell have I been eating?! Now it's just sitting on my desk, staring at me, threatening to jump out of the Tupperware container and suck my brains right out of my head.

I think I really need to rethink some of my cooking choices. Seriously... anyone have an idea?

I'm a Member of the Mile High Club

Wikipedia says (so it much be true) that "The Mile High Club (or MHC) (<-- Seriously? MHC? It needs an acronym?) is a slang term applied collectively to individuals who have sex while on board an aircraft in flight."

Question: When was the last time you were in an airplane, and you were cruising at 5,280 feet? Probably NEVER. Because if you were, you'd CRASH right into the ROCKY MOUNTAINS. And it would be about half-way up the mountain, not just grazing the peak and rolling down the other side. No... you'd go SPLAT! Right into the side.

If being a member of the "MHC" (<-- so lame) means you've boned at a mile high, well, then, I'm a member, and have been for longer than I'd like to admit. Growing up at 6,700 feet will do a lot of things for you:

• Give you amazing stamina for sports/running/marathon-between-the-sheet nights due to the lack of oxygen your brain gets from being up so high
• The sun in a friendly reminder that it's hot. put some damn sunscreen on because you're 6,700 feet closer to the sun than you would be if you were at the beach and damn that shit is hot and intense.
• There's nothing to do above 5,280 feet because there are no decent sized cities, so you learn how to drink, and drink a lot.
• On the bright side, you can really booze it up if you even get down to sea-level.

I had a point to this post... oh! right. The MHC is lame and untrue and you don't have to bone in the micro-shitter on a plane to be a "member." How does that conversation go, anyway? "Hey... wanna put your ass on the counter inside that bathroom by aisle 24?" "Only if you're foot goes in the toilet" "But then it'll turn blue!" "Whatever, douche, my ass will forever be infected. "Oh hang on, I think that fat guy is taking a crap in there. He's been in there for a long-ass time" "Speaking of asses... get on the counter, biotch!" Ew. diseases. Gross.

And also, every single person I grew up with is also a member due to the need to entertain ourselves because the town was so small, and because we lived at such a high altitude. And when you have nothing to do at 16... you drink. Then eventually, you bone. It's the natural progression of things.

Mile High Club my disease-infested-ass.

Inside the Beltway

Washington D.C. is an amazing town. It's where laws are debated, passed, and vetoed. It was designed to be the most intimidating city on the planet (and actually IS the most intimidating city on the planet). It holds almost as much history as Jamestown, Virginia (the first English settlement in America, for you non-American-history peeps), and it has some of the best museums in America honoring people and cultures from all over the world.
Even though I was there for work, and was stuck in conference rooms for the majority of the time I was there, I still managed to get out and have a blast (sacrificing sleep in the process). Seriously. Here's my timeline (and I'm not sure how I survived):

• Friday
• Arrive at 6pm
• Dinner at 7pm
• Drinks until 4am (totally excessive) Saturday
• Saturday
• Up at 10am
• Meeting from 12pm-9pm
• After dinner drinks til 10pm
• Excessive drinking until 2am Sunday
• Sunday
• Up at 6am
• Meeting from 7am-5pm
• Drinks at 6pm
• Dinner at 7pm
• Passed the **F** out at 11pm
• Monday
• Up at 6:30am
• Meeting from 8am to 12:30pm
• Lunch meeting from 12:30 to 2:30pm
• Depart for airport (to arrive back in CA at 11pm. HOWEVER...)
• Missed connection in Denver, stay night in Denver with old high school friend.
• In bed at 1am (3am East Coast Time) 
• Tuesday
• Up at 10am to catch 12:30 flight
• Home by 3pm

I. Might. Die.

However, the places I did all the excessive consumption is what makes DC amazing.

Old Ebbitts, the 4th busiest restaurant in the country, one of the oldest, open til 3am, with a late night menu starting at 11pm, the best bartender on the planet (Brian, the Scot who loves Reggae music) and not one, but THREE amazing bars to choose from. Also a standard stomping ground for Congress and the President (many of them).

Ceiba, only the best mojitos, shrimp and taco nachos and fish tacos in the city, and within walking distance from Old Ebbitt Grill and the White House.

The Robins Nest at the Willard Hotel, this is only the place where the term "lobbyist" was originated. There's enough history here to knock Mrs. Deveroux, by High School History Teacher over (and she wasn't a petite woman).

These are just a few.  There are more, but I will have to reserve them for another post. For now, I bid adieu to the place that has given me so many wonderful memories, so many sleepless nights, and rarely changes from year to year.

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.

Extra Points for Wearing It NOT on Halloween

But seriously... how bad do want it?!

(Feel free to purchase for me anytime now)

Goooooooiiiiiiooooonnnnnssss!

The Detroit Lions have a fight song. This crazy guy comes out of some random tunnel after they score (field goal, touchdown, ANY score). He sings the fight song. I LOVE it. But, at the end, they all scream "Gooooooo Lions!" except that no one pronounces the "L" in "Lions" so it sounds like Goooooiiiiiioooonnnnsss! Listen carefully, you'll hear it (ignore my hysterical laughing in the background. I just couldn't contain myself. Also, keep in mind this was a preseason game, which is why no one is there. Maybe.)

Does It Still Count As Exercise If I'm Drinking The Entire Time?

I like to consider myself a pretty active person. I'm not the most active, but, I mean, I live in California, so there are all kinds of tree-hugging, bike riding, dirty feet, granola eating hippies (sorry *mom*) that like to show us normal people up when it comes to exercise (and the worst part? They don't even consider it exercise... it's "getting closer to nature" or "enjoying Mother Nature" or some other bullshit like that). On the other hand, if I lived in the Midwest, I could just stay home and bake pies all day and eat pies all night. That is what mid-westerners do, right? Please tell me it is, because if it's not, then I need to rethink my retirement (you know, the time when you quite working, so you no long have clients to impress, you've been married for 458 years, so it doesn't really matter that you gained a bunch of weight because you've stopped boning your spouse a long time ago anyway, and you get to stock your house full on candy for when the grand-kidlets come over so you can get them all cracked out on sugar then send them home with their parents.). So if pie making and eating is not on the short list of things mid-westerners do, I might sink into crisis mode.

Shit! I just realized I don't even LIKE pie.

While I come up with Plan B, let's get back on track...

I do the following sports on a regular basis:

• Softball
• Bowling
• Frisbee Golf
• Competitive Sailing

I also do the following things while doing the above mentioned sports: DRINK.

So, my loyal readers/followers/posse (can posse be plural? posses? posse'? posses'?), I pose this question (wow, 'pose' is really close to 'posse'): Does it still count as exercise if I'm drinking the entire time I'm doing said activity? Sometimes I actually work up a sweat. Sometimes I smoke a cigarette. (Look at me! Dr. Seuss, y'all) But I'm still active, right?!