rejected on valentine's day

"this is my bribing technique," i say as i hand the guy behind the counter a plastic cartridge of valentine decorated cookies.

"...what do you need...."

i lay down the trash bags - not one, but two - that contained my coat inside. i take a deep breath and close my eyes. "there is puke all over this coat."

he starts to take the bag. "no-no," i say, "look at it first, and tell me if you can clean it." this being the second try at a cleaners that day, i want to make sure it's do-able. ...or "clean-able".

he opens the bag, and the stale aroma of puke comes exploding out. [sort of like walking into a hollister unprepared - you're immediately gasping for air. it's like you're drowning in the fumes of an 8th grade boys locker room mixed with hairspray and formaldehyde. being in that place is not safe without a gas mask. ...they're probably trying to get all those little teeny boppers high to increase revenue.]

he sighs as he looks up and down my puke stained coat. it actually kind of looks like someone dipped it in a bathtub full of puke. "i'll have to clean it a couple times, and hopefully it will look the same as it did before...and i'm gonna have to charge you $18."

"that's fine! anything you can do!"

he gives me my slip, and as i'm walking out i turn around and exclaim,"happy valentine's day!!"

...

happy valentine's day. let's rewind.

i had a wine party.

yeah... you already know where this is going. while the party was a success, the after party events led to - you guessed it - my puke stained coat. i let my already pretty drunk friend borrow my coat as we ventured to the neighborhood bar, where she proceeded to take shots. how many? one would have been too many. i decided we should leave the bar at the point in the night when i'm carrying her. poor timing on my part....

on the way home there are multiple pit stops. fortunately, no puke ended up in my car. unfortunately, all puke ended up on my coat.

since the puke didn't stop once we hit home -in fact, my other sober, helpful friend tells me that at one point, a whole strawberry emerged- i had other pleasantries to attend to: hair holding, water feeding a limp head (which, by the way, it really freaks me out how really drunk people have no control over their neck - because that is one thing i do not want to be responsible for breaking), sheet covering the couch, meticulous trash can placement next to couch, etc. meaning: no time to wipe puke paste and chunks off coat. puke paste that by morning time, has hardened into an almost glossy frosting all down the front of my coat. and let me tell you, this thing was a lot stronger than any potpourri could cover up. i was burning candles for days.

the lucky day i get to drop this beauty off just happens to be valentine's day. i wager that, since i'm probably going to ruin someone's day by dropping this coat off to them for cleaning, i could also make their day by bringing valentine's day cookies. cancels out, right? i mean, who doesn't love a naked baby flying around with a deadly weapon?

i approach the first dry cleaning place. "happy valentines day!" i say as i walk in. "these are for you," as i slide the cookies to the lady across the counter.

"oh th-"

"-before you thank me," i interrupt. "i have to tell you that this coat-" i pat the trash bag covered garment on the counter "...is covered in puke..."

she stares at me for a second. in the eye. then slowly opens the bag.

"i can't do this." she says.

"what." are you serious? they can reject me?

"i can't do this. i can call a friend that i work with sometimes and see if he will do it. but i can't do this." she walks over to the phone, dials, and mumbles for a few short minutes, then hangs up. "no. he says he can't do it."

fuck.

not really sure what i'm going to do, i start bagging up my coat.

"here," says the lady, "you're going to need these." and slides my cookies back to me.

bitch.

i get on my phone and google the closest dry cleaning place to me. and that is how we get to the beginning of this story. my coat survived. beautifully, actually. not even a hint of puke aroma to allude to it's shameful past.

i hope you all had a lovely valentines day. xoxoxx muahh.

dancing queen

i like to dance. especially to live music. i love it. it doesn't matter what kind of music - if there's a band, i'm dancing.

let me explain. i hired a band for my dad's 50th birthday party. it wasn't for him. it was for me.

last saturday - after a little bit of begging from my roommate adam- i met him at the jive and wail on washington ave. it was a his friend's 30th birthday party, so we were celebrating upstairs in the VIP section. i looked down and see this skinny old man- at least 75 -dancing on stage with all the girls.

"oh my gosh, look at that old man!" i say to adam.

"he's been up there all night," he tells me.

"i want to dance with him." meaning, i have to dance with him.

later when i'm talking to adam and his mom, i spot the old man on stage again. alone.

i stop mid-conversation, "i have to go-" and run down the stairs to the stage. i climb up the stage stairs and start dancing with the old man. about 10 seconds later, out of nowhere a girl runs in front of me, blocking me from my dance partner and starts dancing. with the old man. with my old man. the bitch stole my old man.

not only would she dance with him with her back to me, every once in awhile she would turn around to face me with a smug little smirk on her face as if to say "ha-ha!" oh, she knew what she did. and it took everything in me not to push her right off the stage.

when the song was over, i stomped back up to VIP. "did you see that bitch steal my man!?"

"yeah, i really thought you were gonna punch her."

"i am so pissed right now," i say as adam and his mom laugh. i pout until we leave for the next bar.

we end up at dubliners- and since it's saturday, there's a band playing. i'm chair dancing in my seat (something i'm a professional at), when a guy asks me to dance.

"me? i'll dance!" i say, and get up to head to the floor.

when we get there, right away the guy is all over me. jesus... i think to myself. i mean, the guy's hands are on me, his head is in my neck, the works. and then...

"bend your kneeees, girllll!!"

um.

ok. i have no problem with a little "bump and grind" or "backing that ass up" or "getting low" or - in this case - "bending my knees" ....

but the song was wonderwall.

this guy literally wanted me to rub my ass into his crotch to oasis. i stood there for a minute, confused, and made sure what i heard was actually what i heard.

yes, yes it was. i turned and walked off the dance floor.

needless to say, it was not this dancing queen's night.

here are some pictures from better nights--

me and dad dancing to the band at his 5oth

me and scott on halloween, monster mashin'

dancing queen

inappropriate commentary

these three things together:

1. a random stranger

2. something that is a totally personal and private matter

3. them feeling the need to explain it to you

it always confuses me. probably because it takes me a year to tell even my best of friends some things. i'm a private person. i always have been.

except for one time. and this one time involved me having a mental break down. and gallons of alcohol. but the people i encounter that do this - this inappropriate outburst to a randomized population - they're sober.

at least as far as i know.

recent example:

to set the scene, i'm at guitar center. it is around 5 pm on a saturday. i'm waiting at the service counter (my guitar needed new strings and the battery to the electric box was loose - which i will pay a $10 repair fee for them to slide it back into place. $10. ten. dollars. to slide it back into place. no, i'm not still bitter. bitter would be to kind of a word.). there is a man and woman in front of me at the counter. the are about mid-40s. the man is waiting patiently while the woman receives her newly strung instrument and strums until she decides she is satisfied. they are polite to one another, but no other hints to their relationship. siblings? friends? lovers? husband and wife? ...band mates? the man takes his wallet out to pay the bill, as the woman tells a funny story about what they had done that day (not really funny. just funny to her.). then she explains that she had paid for their lunch earlier, which was why he was paying the bill now. so... dating?

she's looking from me to the repair guy the whole time. i smile politely and chime in when i have to with an "ahh" and "ohh, uh-huh". and then she says this:

"We're much better friends now since the divorce." she's referring to her and the man with her. she's referring to her and her ex-husband. her ex-husband she just spent the entire day with and who is now paying for her new strings. her ex-husband she had to divorce in order to continue a relationship with - a friendship. her ex-husband who is now her best friend. who goes to lunch with her, and plants flowers with her. who fixes the kitchen sink for her. who goes bowling with her. who drives her to the airport when she's going out of town. ok, i made most that last stuff up, but that's what was going through my head.

and she's smiling. there may have even been a "ha-ha" added to the end of her sentence. but her eyes are now searching for my reaction in panic.

i'm dumbfounded. my face is blank. uhhhh what the hell?? "yeah......," i start saying, and then a few long seconds later i add, "well, sometimes that happens...." but does it?

"ha yep," she responds. then she gets quiet, and slightly crabby with the ex-hubby/new bff (probably trying to hurry him up to get the f out of there).

....why did she just tell me that?

sudden outbursts like this only lead me to one conclusion: you feel like people are judging you, and you give a damn. and if you give a damn what people are thinking of you, that leads me to two conclusions: you don't think to highly of yourself or you're feeling guilty. ...or you're in high school, but this obviously wasn't the case here.

maybe the reason she said this to me was because she just likes to share. but maybe she said this because she wasn't to confident in her current situation. and honestly, it sounds kind of weird to me - so maybe she shouldn't be.

you smell like valencia

i'm a strong believer in the whole "things happen for a reason" bit. but i'm also a strong believer in "things happen because you were a dumbass and did something stupid" bit. the important thing is you learn from it.

for example....

[now, if you're my friend, chances are you've heard this story. but if you're my friend, chances are that you will enjoy hearing it again.]

once upon a time (a time i like to call sophomore year of college), a young dame had her heart set on an unattainable love... or in other words, i had a huge crush on my physics TA. he was an aerospace engineering junior, a swimmer, spoke fluent spanish.... ok, he was mexican. it was a weird time for me. i was young.

besides, it was not a bad thing to be smitten with the teacher's assistant who was grading your lab. for our lab reports, most people wrote one page lab summaries like good students. i was writing a one page letter to my crush. contents are confidential.

just kidding they were never dirty. he was shy and nerdy and would be really embarassed.

one night, the opportunity came when i was invited over to his apartment to have a drink before we both met up with our friends at separate parties. i was a nervous wreck. and my under 21 ass didn't have any alcohol.

"do you have any alcohol??" i desperately ask my then-roommate, melissa. i couldn't be the girl that goes over, drinks all the guy's beer, then leaves (and when i say "all the guy's beer", i mean all. i literally would've probably ended up drinking all his beer. my dad doesn't call me the professional on accident). it was out of the question. that was a typical uncool girl move and i was not your typical uncool girl. i was your untypical cool girl. plus i was so nervous i needed a shot before i walked over there.

"um, i have this." she holds up and 75% full 5th of captain morgan.

i look her dead in the eye. "can i have that?"

"yeah, sure." and i took the bottle from her hand.

i get to his apartment and just as he was about to offer me a beer, i pull out the 5th.

...looking back, he probably thought i was an alcoholic. ...and looking forward, he probably still does.

"oh.. you have your own."

"well, i didn't want to drink all your beer. i mean, we're friends."

"no, that's cool. i'm just used to girls drinking all my beer."

haha!! typical uncool girl, 0 - untypical cool girl, 1. i got this.

it doesn't take long for me to get 10 times more hammered than him.

somehow we start talking about exercise, and he tells me he does yoga.

"psshhaaaaaa, you mean you like take a class??" my very drunk self asks both mockingly and truly curious.

"no, i have it on podcast on my computer."

"you mean, you do it in there?? in your room?" i say pointing to the door behind me on the couch.

"yeah...."

just like i had to my roommate melissa, i lean forward and look him dead in the eye. only this time i wasn't asking a question. "we're doing yoga. right now."

now when i said we, i meant we. but it wasn't we. it was me. by myself. drunk. doing yoga. on the bedroom floor of my crush. my crush who was also my physics TA. he rolled out a mat, turned on the podcast and watched while i went to work.

now. what i felt i looked like was this:

or this
or this
what i actually looked like was probably more like one of these girls:

needless to say, our relationship didn't move much further past that night. yet, surprisingly, i'd still receive a text or facebook message from him every now and then. ...must have done something right...

it's been about 3 years now. he went to grad school and has returned to st. louis. i agreed to meet with him and catch up. now, remember, i hadn't hung out with him since that infamous night.

when he shows up at the bar and sits down, it's not minutes before he asks, "remember when you did yoga in my room?"

"seriously. all my friends know about that." i say back.

and now the world wide web does too.

we reminisce on lab and life. he asks about my job and when i explain to him exactly what i do and how exactly my machines work (because i know he'll understand), he just smiles.

"you have no idea how proud i am right now. look at you! talking physics!"

later in the night, i say to him, "i'm going to tell you something that is going to sound really weird."

"ok..." he says cautiously

"you smell like valencia."

"like, the city in spain?"

"yes."

well, he did. another point for the untypical cool girl.

sh*t my roommates say

happy new year kids. i hope this year is all you hope and dream for.

so as some of you may know, about 4 months ago i moved out on my own back into the city. well, not exactly on my own. with 4 others. specifically, 3 guys and 1 girl. needless to say, some entertaining conversation has gone on. i'll enlighten you.

on knee problems

(upon relatively just meeting my roommate scott, i tell him about my knee problems)

me - "i'm a runner, but they really hurt when i drive. they really hurt right now."

scott - "maybe you shouldn't spend so much time on your knees."

shocked at his implication with the little time we had spent together thus far, my jaw drops and i turn to look at him. and that's when i decided-

me - "...i like you."

on neighbors

kylie - "they seem kind of older."

me - "oh, no."

k - "well, not that old."

me - "like, they would have kids?"

k - "like, they would have grandkids."

me - "that's old."

k - "when i think old, i think of like, renal failure. this guy looked like he could have gone for a jog."

on big butts

kylie - "this is why i can't wear skinny jeans. my ass just falls right out of them."

adam - "you do have a big ass, just saying."

me - "wow."

adam - "i mean, it's seriously big."

me - "again. wow."

kylie - "yeah. that's why it's hard to find jeans that fit. i've actually considered buying a pair of apple bottom jeans."

me - "have you also considered buying a pair of boots with the fur?"

on fetishes

kylie - "you get excited about christmas the way we get excited about the antique roadshow."

me - "well you guys can watch that while i go wrap christmas presents. that's my ....forte (at the same time as)--"

scott - "--fetish?"

me - "yes, i have a christmas wrapping fetish."

scott - "(mockingly) oh, i get so wet when christmas wrapping!"

kylie - "not a sexual fetish, you perv."

me - "yeah, not all fetishes are sexual."

scott - "the good ones are..."

on icthys

scott - "look at that piece of junk." (referring to beat up car next to us in the parking lot)

me - "i thought it was nice."

scott - "it's even got a little jesus fish."

me - "aww."

scott - ''jesus isn't saving that car."

me - "bada boom bada bing."

mike - "it has many bada bings."

scott - "bada bing eerrrr crash ahhhhhh!!!"

on baked goods

me - "they're hot. i just took them out of the oven." (ignoring me, mike grabs a muffin and stuffs the entire thing into his mouth."

mike - "hauuuhhfffffff hauuuhhhfffff mmmhauff good hauuhhfff."

me - "you can't even taste it right now, can you."

mike - "no, it's good!"

a half hour later when he eats another--

mike - "mmmhh, these really are good!!"

me - "jesus christ."

on choosing the appropriate icing

me - "mike, kaylin says you need cream cheese or caramel icing for butter pecan cake. not vanilla."

scott - "pshhh who you think knows more about icing, mike or some chick who hooked up with matt jackson?" [kaylin, i defended your honor!!]

you may not understand that last one. just laugh. more to come i'm sure.

me and my only other girl roommate, kylie>>

so i don't have a picture with all of the roommates, but here's pretty close. me and the boys - scott, adam, and mike. please ignore that i look highly intoxicated. it was the first drink i swear.

me and michael>>

a little family time, mixed with skill and coordination

you ask anyone how their thanksgiving was, the answer is almost always, "ok". there may be varying inflations of that "ok" depending on who you ask, or you may even get the liars that say "good!".

you're not fooling us.

thanksgiving is the beginning of the holiday season, and the first time (in probably a while) the entire family gets together for an extended period of time. you have the cook, who is stressed the f out trying not only to get everything done on time - but everything to delicious perfection (this job is usually combined with the host, so add the pressure making sure your house is spotless before the family arrives). you have the complainer, who is never satisfied ("is it done yet?", "these potatoes are too salty", "the turkey is under-cooked", etc.). you have that one family member who is just a little too blunt ("every year, you look a little thicker", "no man yet? you're not getting any younger. in fact, i see some gray hairs", etc.). you have the kids running around screaming, you have the person in the kitchen taste-testing and munching on everything before time to eat, you have the picky eater who you have to cook something completely inconvenient for - the list goes on.

i am one of those fortunate enough to have two thanksgivings to go to come that third thursday in november.

on our way from one thanksgiving to the other, my sister and i take our little cousin home.

[well. not that little. he's 14. a few months ago at a family function, my aunt took notice that he was now as tall as me while we were standing next to each other in the buffet line. disbelieving (i mean i'm 5' 8.5" and this kid is 8 years my junior), i turn to face him and looked him dead in the eyes. little to say, it kind of freaked me out. i used to babysit this kid.]

my aunt and uncle were not quite ready to leave the thanksgiving festivites, and the misery was evident all over the poor guy's face. he is at the stage in his early teen years where you aren't a kid any more - but you sure as hell aren't an adult - and being with your family is an awkward, miserable torture.

so we took him home.

on the way home my sister and i each grab a road beer (obviously not a good idea, or a great influence on our young cousin - but the day called for it. especially since it was only half way over.). my sister and i get pretty giddy around each other sometimes. when you love someone as much as we love each other, and you are so comfortable with them that you feel more yourself when you're with each other..... well, you just kind of loose it. we apologize and try to explain this to my - probably frightened now - cousin in the back seat.

"i was with this person everyday of my life for eighteen years!!" i say to him. it's still amazing to me when i think about that and how long of a time it is. we briefly reflect on when we were finally separated when going to different colleges.

"well, besides that time you went to camp," i say to my sister. "then i got a week vacation from you. ...i never went to camp." i turn to my cousin, "did you ever go to camp?"

my cousin shakes his head no.

"yeah. everyone always has camp stories and talks about how much fun it was. and now i'm too old. i feel like i missed out on something, like something is missing in my life."

my sister opens her beer and takes a sip. "this tastes like shit," she says.

"it's probably old. who knows how longs it's been in that fridge." my other aunt, who always hosts thanksgiving, is a huge hoarder. and that's an understatement.

"throw it out." she says. when we hit bluff road, with the bluffs to our left and fields to our right, i roll down my window. as we pass a sign i chuck the bottle. in slow motion i watch as it floats, spinning top over bottom, to the metal pole of the sign where is hits dead center and smashes.

"holy shit." i say.

"did you hit that?? i heard it smash," my sister says.

"yeah. i can't believe it. i've never actually done that. i always try to hit those and always miss. that was awesome...." i say. "....i am actually going to tell people that i did that." my cousin is laughing now, but probably thankful he is almost home.

i'm silent, still in shock of my own skill and coordination. "....kind of makes up for not going to camp..."

@ thxgiving. you can see my cousin - trying to hide how thrilled he is to be in this pic - and me and sister on the end :)

also, this is what happens when my uncle decides to deep fry a turkey--

petrified.

ghetto-pon

so i don't know if you guys know, but there's this website called groupon.com..... just kidding, i know you cool cats are with it. you probably use it more than i do.

...cheap asses (but who isn't these days?).

anyway, i had been keeping my eye out for a dry cleaning deal - as winter is quickly approaching and my winter coat could use a little washy wash. [i'm also keeping my eye out for a good laser hair removal deal, but that will be different blog... or maybe not]. finally, the day came when my inbox presented to me the daily deals: 68% off an hour long massage, 55% off hair salon services, $10 for $17 at your local grease joint, 42% off of a good time with Candy (....just kidding - this is groupon, not craigslist), $10 for $20 worth of dry cleaning, with free pick-up and drop-off.

winner, winner, chicken dinner.

the place was just off south grand a few miles from my house. a few weeks after i bought the deal, i call up there. no answer. hmmm. since it's just a few miles down grand, i decide to just drive up there and drop my stuff off. as i'm driving there, i realize - a lot changes in a few miles.

when i get there, the place looks similar to this. only smaller.

shit.

besides the sign with the business' name, there was a board over every surface of this little building. it is so boarded up that i'm not even sure how to get into it. i'm not sure what is a door and what isn't.

well. i already paid $10 for this...

there is a car parked out front as i approach the building and try to find anything that looks like a door knob. as i start to go to pull on what i think might be a door, a woman exits from another side of the building and goes to the car.

"front door is over here," she tells me.

"ok.." and i go towards her direction and see a pull handle hidden between a break in the wood.

"we're remodeling," she tells me, probably because the look on my face tells her i'm about to run. i walk into a 4x4 ft room that leads to a window with a man behind it. it is dark as the only light is shining through a small window to his left. does this place have electric? there is clothing in clear bags hanging up behind him.

"i, uh.... bought a groupon," i tell him, handing him my coat. "it's for $20, but i didn't know how much it would cost to get this cleaned."

he takes the coat, looks at it and says,"8 or 9 bucks."

"oh, well, can i bring in another coat, then? or something else to get cleaned?"

"well you're supposed to bring in $20 dollars worth of clothing at the same time."

"oh... so.. there's nothing you can do?"

after some persuasion, i get him to allow me to bring in another coat when i come to pick up the one i'm dropping off now.

"we'll work something out," he tells me. as i go to leave the small building, he rushes out,"don't slam the door! it is heavy and will slam down!"

"ok..." i say as i slowly close the piece of plywood with a pull handle, watching him disappear behind it. why, because if it slams the whole house will fall down? as i walk away i make a mental note: research places before you buy their groupon deal.

about an hour later i get a phone call from the dry cleaning place. a woman explains that she saw a missed call and was calling the number back.

"oh, i called earlier to see if you were open - but i already dropped my stuff off," i explain.

"oh, ok! i just saw a missed call and wanted to make sure! we were busy and it gets loud back here with all the fans!" she says cheerfully. i just think to myself...where are you in that little shack? because it was not loud in there. and i'm pretty sure if i looked further into the window i could view the entire building.

when i go to pick my coat up, i take kylie with me. not because i'm afraid, but i'm afraid.

"holy shit," she says when we pull up, despite my warning on our way there.

"yeah..." i reply. same thing i thought when i first saw it.

it's the same man behind the window counter. i exchange him my dirty coat for my now clean coat, reminding him of our little deal. he smiles when i express my thankfulness of his rule breaking.

when kylie and i leave, i forget to tell her to not slam the door. it slams. hard. the sound of the slap was loud to us on the outside, so i can only imagine the echo it made inside that little building.

"ohhhh, man!!!" i hear the man behind the window call out.

"sorry!" i yell back at the building, figuring he had to hear me through the plywood.

as we get in my car and start to drive away, kylie yells for me to stop. and then i see the man besides my drivers side window.

"i told you not to slam the door!" he exclaims. "and now you almost ran over my toes!!" despite him trying to be angry, i see a smile in his eyes.

"i'm sorry!" i say, trying not to laugh from the shock of him coming out to scold me. he walks back to the little shack door, and we drive away.

"...that was messed up." i say.

"i think he's really sad in there," kylie says in sympathy.

"who wouldn't be?"

"he just wants someone to talk to."

"...i'm glad i didn't use the free pick-up and drop-off. i'm not sure i want anyone working there knowing where i live."