blogging from a birthday party!

happy friday the thirteenth birthday, brit!!!

AH AM ON TEH COMPUTURZ!!!

Finally.  My desktop has ceased to be.  Well, it still exists, but only existentially.  Basically the thing turns itself on when you plug it in.  I think it was watching me, to be perfectly honest.

WOW.  Red Bull has definitely kicked in.  About freaking time.  Oh, and I chopped more of my hair off.  And I look like a goth princess.  But whatever.  Sometimes you just gotta stop being blonde.

Okay.  Let's catch up, shall we?

It's been a pretty craptastic week for me.  Baby sister moved out, I had no clients, got burned at work....  yeah.  But I went on a shopping spree, and I got lots of goodies to make me happy.  And the fact that I look like a totally different person kinda lifts my spirits.

Steven Tyler gave me the massive giggles this week.  I'm gonna use that all the time now.

Made strawberry cupcakes with chocolate and coconut pecan frosting.  Those are pretty damn tasty.  (BTW, if you're undecided on what to get me for my birthday, I'd like a hand mixer.  Actually, my shoulders would like the hand mixer.  I'm beginning to look like the Incredible Hulk.  On second thought, never mind.  I'm not 50.  That present would suck.)

Been bringing the glamour to every day situations.  I try to leave the house wearing heels, even if it's to go to Dunkies for coffee.  Needless to say, my hooves are killing me.  Time to invest in some more Dr. Scholl's!

Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers and the Rolling Stones have been getting me through every day.  They make me infinitely happy.

Hi.  I'd like these, please.  They would totally make my life complete.  The only thing that would top that was if I was eating an In-N-Out burger (animal style!) whilst wearing them.

I'm sorry.  I'm really not paying attention to this right now.  Going between watching Project Runway and downloading pictures for christmas presents.  So that means I should give at least one most of my attention.  I'll do a post when I get home from work tomorrow.

<3

i'm beginning to suck at life with this....

panic just set in. forgot to type something out. crap, crap, CRAP.
oh well. nothing new to report. carry on. i'm off to bed. 830 am
shift is gonna hurt bad. not looking forward to it at all. and so is
life.

i promised myself i wouldn't do this.

gah! i just finished writing what could possibly have been my
greatest post ever, and my phone decided to tweak out and delete my
hard work. now i'm depressed, and i can't find my emergency stash of
leftover halloween candy. i'm gonna have to freebase the rest of my
soda now. damn technology is making my life miserable!!!!

super funtastic!

sorry about the lack of substantial posts lately. i haven't had my
whole heart in it, but i'm hell bent on burping something out every
day, so here you go. my hands are almost normal looking again. my
left hand looks like it still has some sort of skin condition, but at
least it's not "oink flu red" anymore. what else.... i've been
living off of pizza and coke for 3 days. but that's not that
earth-shattering. my car survived another 3000 miles. i found an
outfit for thanksgiving eve
(pleasedon'tgetasdrunkasididlastyearandpukedallovermypartydressbecausethisisbcbgandnotforever21).
metalocalypse started up again last night. that was awesome. oh
well. it's getting late, and i hear more leftover pizza calling my
name from the fridge. someday i'll do a real post again....

at chardonnay's

yum. spicy tuna rolls and lobster mac and cheese. so excited. <3

email post

too lazy to turn on computer. must be a pizza-induced food coma. or
just overjoyed from today's super awesome purchases. whatever it is,
i'm beat. packing it in, calling it a night. until tomorrow.

I'm in the mood

For writing, that is. 

I've broken out a brand new notebook and pen.  The ideas keep on swirling around in my head.  Maybe this will be the one I finish?

Who knows.  I hope so.  It would be nice to complete one story.  I get bored in the middle and abandon ship.  And I always have these awesome endings in my head, but since I don't know how to get there, they go unwritten.

Oh well.  I'm off to troll the baby name websites.  Easier than walking around Barnes and Noble looking at baby name books.  People kind of give me the side eye like they should be congratulating me.  Then I give them the stink eye and they generally scurry off. 

I have a good feeling about this one.  Sometimes looking through names gives me the inspiration I need.  I know exactly who the person will be as soon as one jumps out at me.

This time.  This time it will work.

I'll keep you updated on my progress.  As soon as I transcribe reams of words into the interwebz box.  Which probably won't be for a few weeks, since I'm always wary about putting them in MS Word.  It's the kiss of death.  I'll type it out to let people read, and then I abandon it.  Why?  I don't have a clue.  Maybe my subconscious doesn't want anybody to read what I've written.  Which really sucks, because that's what I want to do. 

Oh well.

Happy Friday!

can't blog....

Hands are burned to a crisp.


Blotchy, red, blistery hands.




I hate my job.


Going to bed now.  Been up for 20 hours.  Worked for 13 of them. 

I'll feel better tomorrow?

waiting is the hardest part

Today I get to be stuck at home all day waiting for my sister's stupid bed to be delivered by Bob's.  Of course, this means I'm bored to tears and all I can do is think of other things I'd rather be doing, though probably wouldn't do because I'm lazy.

Also, whilst in the throes of glorious sleep this morning, said sister woke me up and told me all the bed information was on the end table in the living room and there was an online tracker in case I wanted to do anything before they got here.  Obviously I was intrigued and couldn't fight my enthusiasm, so I fell back asleep.  But when I woke up 2 hours ago (fine.  it was 20 minutes ago.  you caught me), I decided to check this theory out.  Kim told me that they would be delivering it anywhere from 1:10-4:10 (yeah, I don't understand the :10 either).  So, after carefully deciphering the literature she got after leaving the store, I go on the site and check things out.

Apparently, the projected arrival time is 2:49 pm, and Reggie will be my driver.  How does Bob know this?  Oh, because all of their drivers have a GPS sewn in their undercrackers.  Nah, but their trucks have 'em, and if you thought not being able to goof off at work sucked when your boss was around, imagine never being able to goof off because your boss always knows where you are?  That freaking blows.  But it gives me time to get an oil change and grab a coffee before waving hello to Reggie on my front lawn and figuring out how the hell to open the garage door. 

Bob's Big Brother GPS?  You better be right.  Cause if Reggie calls my sister to tell her there's no one at home to accept her Bob-O-Pedic, I'm never gonna hear the end of it.

I <3 Britannia

Now, it should come as no surprise that I'm an England freak.  Like we're more than friends?  There are lots of reasons why I heart the Brits: the country's gorgeous, they drive on the wrong side of the road in tiny cars that would take 3 to fill the spot my Taurus would leave behind, their grocery stores have whole aisles dedicated to chocolate, most pubs sell pints for a £....  But the biggest reason is their comedy.

The Office?  David Brent is so deliciously awkward, and it's always been Tim & Dawn 4-eva (screw Jim & Pam.  If you can't fall and stay in love in 3 episodes, then you don't deserve each other).
The Mighty Boosh?  I am practically dating Vince Noir (I wish!).  There's more to the Boosh than Old Gregg (Nicky Clarke, hottest you can get, fell asleep on them when I was pissed).  Keeping Up Appearances, Are You Being Served, Fawlty Towers, Waiting For God, Father Ted- all shows I can't get enough of.

I fell in love with Steve Coogan and Graham Norton while I was over there, and thank Jeebus Comcast got BBC America the week I got back.  That introduced me to Top Gear, Coupling, Doctor Who, Robin Hood, Torchwood... even Gordon Ramsay's grown on me.

Words cannot express how "homesick" I get when I see anything to do with England.  When the Pats played in London a couple of weeks ago, I could feel tears welling up because I wanted to be there so bad.  I'll watch anything that has to do with London or the Liverpool/Manchester area, since that's where I spent most of my time there.

I buy British Mars bars and Ribena when I go to Stop & Shop, drive 40 minutes to Plymouth to get Midget Gems, Jammie Dodgers, Wispa bars, Polo mints and Walkers crisps.  I devour books with Bridget Jones and Georgia Nicolson-

Christ.  No wonder I haven't been there in a while.  I spend all my free time watching their programing and all my money on their exports.  It's probably time to quit using my passable British accent to make Gwen pee her pants and start saving my money for another pop across the pond.  Or I could find myself a Ye Olde Sugare Daddy and he can take me back to the motherland.  I could have high tea with the Queen, find Prince Hot Ginge (shout out to Michael K), maybe even take in a Man U/Liverpool match and make it back in time to catch the last ride on the London Eye.  But for now I'll just have to content myself with my AbFab DVDs, Boots lip gloss from Target and monthly trips to NYC so I can wander around Topshop for hours and lose myself in the shoe department. 

God can bless America all he wants, but he better have enough strength to save the Queen!

strapless bras are evil.

It's true.  At the beginning of the day, they're all nice and happy and don't hurt.  But by the end of your night, watch out!  You wish you were running around boob loose and bra free because the damn bra's shifted, and it's digging into your circulatory system causing you to have a massive pinprick headache right in the back of your brain.

Anyway.....
I was a big girl last night and made my own dinner (steak on the grill!) and mashed potatoes (from a microwaved bag!  but it counts, because they're real potato bits and I had to use a masher to get them to that mashed potato consistency.) AND devils food cupcakes with coconut pecan frosting and Hershey's chocolate chips.  Don't know why and how I turned into Suzi Homemaker, but whatevs.  At least I've got a ton of cupcakes now.  Must have been lack of oxygen to the noggin due to the whole strapless bra extravaganza.  Also?  I've named my outfit for yesterday "Mickey Rourke without all the plastic surgery."  Because every picture I've seen of him lately consists of a pair of wrecked jeans, a vest and a jaunty hat.  So I walked around in public with a knit hat, tube top (haaay stupid strapless bra!), stripey cardigan, vest and wrecked jeans.  I looked like a modern-day vagabond, meaning I looked like I spent $300 at Urban Outfitters for my ensemble.  Which is kind of hilarious.  I mean me having $300.  And now I'm crying.

So who knows what today will bring.  I had to take today off because of the threat of jury duty, but I got a get out of jury duty free card and now I'm sans plans.  That's not true.  I have plans.  They're just up in the air.  Obviously this means I'm trolling around iTunes looking for some song ideas to "download" later, eating microwaved stroganoff noodles (why?  I'm not Russian!  but they're sooooo good!) and watching an infomercial about the Swivel Sweeper instead of getting ready and going to the bank to cash checks/get my loan payment. 

Merde.  I should be a contributing member of society now.  Oh well.  I can't deal with another infomercial anyway.

an introduction

Hi.  Some of you may know me as Liz, but i'm really an idiot.  The only reason I'm starting this blog is to confirm the obvious: there's something seriously wrong with me. 

I thought about adding pictures, which would be super awesome, but there's only one small problem.  My camera took a nose-dive into the Atlantic in The Great Cleansing of Anything Electronic Owned by Me last September when I thought it would be a totally awesome idea to climb a ten-foot ocean front wall in a dress, just to see Plymouth Rock, which I've seen a million times before.  Why was this the best idea ever, you ask?  Duh.  It's because I was shit-housed.  Every brilliant idea I've ever had is due to the yummy, bubbly carbonation of crisp, cold beer. 

Let's have a moment of silence for my fallen brethren: the brand new 80 gig iPod, the 2-week old LG Dare, the prehistoric Kodak EasyShare, the H&M polka-dot umbrella....   I hardly knew you.

Anyway, the only thing to survive the flood besides my dignity (because let's face facts, folks.  I lost that long ago) was my keychain iPod shuffle.  Still works like a dream, though if you listen hard enough, you can hear the cries of Pilgrims past mourning their lost ones due to the cruel, cold Atlantic. 

So, yeah.  If I ever do post pictures, they will obviously be stolen from my friends or the internet, take your pick.  And to cover my ass, I'll let you know who I got them from.  Because I know you're dying to know.  Also?  All photographic identities will be concealed to protect the innocent.  Or to save them from the humiliation of knowing they took part in something ridiculous that I dragged them into.  That's more like it.

I'm sure posts will be sporadic, considering my phone doesn't count as a computer (the nerve!) and my aged desktop reverts itself back to 2003.  But I shall try my best.  As with all my good ideas, they will be posted well into the night, consumed by the internets and never to be taken back again.  Like drunk texting.  Or drunk iTunes-ing.  Cripes.  I need to repent.

Enjoy!