The Weekend of June 19 (A Long Time Ago I Know But My Computer Hasn't Been Letting Me Get On Here)

So as of late I have done a lot of moving and I am now living in Oceanside with my aunt, uncle, their two dogs and my two dogs. It is quite a full house but it's nice and there is never a dull moment especially with four crazy dogs running a muck. It actually looks like we are running some sort of kennel for naughty dogs who bark at anything that makes noise, persist to play while we are watching tv and lay on us in a way that makes us so uncomfortable but accomodates their needs.

Dog ownership is a sick thing. You go out of your way to make them happy at the expense of your own well-being and sanity. But all in all it has been nice and relaxing given that the previous week I stayed in three different places.

In addition to finally having my own room, the fact that my boss is gone on vacation made my week all the more pleasant as the office or rather the Nazi concentration camp he runs became more relaxed in his absence. My week went by without any complaints from me as I previously stated Hitler aka my boss was out of the office.

On Friday day I was all primed and ready to go out to Stingaree with some girlfriends as my good friend Brian was having an art show there. The whole day I didn't feel well, threw up in a McDonalds cup but still manned up enough to go out to the club. Upon getting there I was in an utter disbelief as I was already tipsy and there were no attractive men there. Not one. Not even with beer goggles.

I mean in all honesty I'm really not that that picky but I'm pretty sure balding middle aged men should not be at a night club for the following reasons:

A. It's creepy

B. It makes everyone uncomfortable

C. They should be home watching Frasier reruns

D. It's creepy

Seriously though if you look like you could be someones grandfather a nightclub is not the place for you. No offense to grandmas and grandpas but the middle aged 40 + men are only there looking for a nice hot thing to make a trophy wife and someone who will help them administer viagra when in the mood. Me on the other hand not my sort of thing.

Kaylee, Jenny, Stephanie and I talked and hung out but as I was still not feeling all that great so I decided to drive back to O Side and call it a night.

Saturday was quite possibly the best day of my life. I did absolutely nothing. I proceeded to watch four different movies back-to-back and only left the house once in order to get food.

Weekend of June 10

So with the kids and I staying with Kaylee last weekend we had the privilege of staying in the cozy confines of her beach house in Mission Beach. I had worked what seemed to be the longest week of my life and so after work on Friday I was greeted by Kaylee and the kids.

Since Kaylee had to work the next morning super early we decided to stay in and watch scary movies. Aw aren't we so cute..... or pathetic.

On Saturday June 10 my friend Krista graduated from UCSD and despite Kaylee, Jenny and I showing up 2 hours late to her graduation party, for no good reason, we all had a great time. My immediate thought after greeting Krista was to find the alcohol I saw in her family and friends' hands. Once I found where they were hoarding the beer I began to drink at an unreasonably fast rate. After three beers in 20 minutes I was cracking jokes with everyone and Krista and I were the life of her party.

Please note: If you are having a party and want to be the center of attention do not invite me as I will steal your glory because I was an only child for 20 years and I still I think everything is about me. Cause it is.

But back to Krista's party.... her whole family was there and it was a lot of good times with good people.

After her party we all headed back to Kaylee's beach house for some drinks and to get ready to go out. We decided to go to sandbar, which is less than a block away and easy to walk or crawl to after consuming drinks. We put on another coat of makeup, deodorant and perfume and were off.

Now for all of you who know Jenny, Krista, Kaylee and I when we are together it is craziness. There doesn't even have to be alcohol involved for us to be the life of the party and act crazy but when you add alcohol into the equation shit hits the fan.

The following things may or may have not happened to one or more of us thus far in our drunken nights:

Throwing up in a bed all over the sheets, falling off a skateboard in the middle of the street, bathing suit tops coming off in a jacuzzi, having a make out contest with a random guy on the boardwalk, waking up to find sand in not so pleasant places, jumping off a cliff in havasu because your friend propositions you with a beer bong, waking up with no pants on and the list goes on.

However please note: I have left out many other things that have occured as I do not want to divulge to you, the reader, some of the not so PG situations we have found ourselves in.

But back to the four of us going out for Krista's graduation. We get to the bar only to come to the horrible realization that there are no attractive men. And when I say none I mean none.

Now our conversations about the men went something like this:

"Hey that guy would be cute if he had all his teeth, yeah his friend would be cute if his nose wasn't the size of the banana." Anytime your night begins like this nothing good ever comes out of it. It will usually end in my friends or I kissing the ugly guy because the rest of us will sadistically conspire to tell the other that the ugly guy with no teeth and acne actually is cute once you get to know him.

A couple of vodka/crans later the men became more attractive and my friends became more fun. We proceeded to not give a shit what anyone else thought and started making up dance moves in the middle of the dance floor. We laughed, drank, danced, met random guys and had soooo much fun. Some guys came back to the house but when the alcohol was all out I decided to go to sleep since none of the guys seemed as cool or attractive when I couldn't see double anymore.

So I went to bed and woke up the next morning with my hair, chest and hands covered in something sticky and a lollipop stuck to my shirt. I don't remember eating a sucker. As I walked out to the living room and was made fun of by my friends I swooped in on their current conversation about how they were mad because three hot boys spent the night. Now this usually would never be a problem except for the fact that we had no idea they slept there. Now I'm not a genius or anything but I'm pretty sure it's a good night when there are three hot men, three girls and a slumber party results. But the fact that we didn't even know that's just depressing. How did we not jump on this opportunity? It's no wonder why the four of us are all single as apparently we love drinking alcohol and passing out more than we love the embrace of a man.

The next day my mom, Heleyna and Michael met me at the beach to go to Belmont park and ride the rides. It was so great to see them all and we had sooooo much fun riding the rides, eating cotton candy and going to the beach. Heleyna went on the scariest rides and Michael went on the merry-go-round, a submarine and a little boat. It was so cute seeing how much fun they had and to see that even the simplest things in life make kids so happy.

Krista came over to the beach house after they left and brought with her a small bar with many handles of liquor. I obstained from drinking for the night but Krista managed to get a great buzz and be the usually happy drunk she is.

I went to bed and my work week started the next day. Now usually I will compare my work to a Chinese sweatshop but with my boss out of town the atmosphere was a little less than the usual concentration camp we work in. I believe that week my attire consisted of either sweats or jeans and doing the least amount of work possible. All in all it was a great weekend that was followed by a good week.

Be still my babies funnier blogs will follow. But until then I will end with a little food for thought: friends don't let friends get fat and if they do they aren't good friends. I am now considering finding new friends.

This Crazy Little Thing Called My Life

To make a long story short my life has been a little hectic as of late. 

But to avoid all the boring details as to why on a daily basis I contemplate ways in which I can torture others to make myself feel better I will just explain how my week has gone thus far. 

On Monday I spent the night at my friend Brian's house. I brought my dogs with me and had to keep Charlie contained in Brian's room as at times he will bite innocent bystanders. I then proceeded to not only make Brian feel unwelcome in his own room, since Charlie would threaten his life him every time he walked in,  I took over Brian's bedroom as Charlie claimed it as his own. Kaylee, Krista, Charlie, Stella and I all slept together while Brian took the couch. 

And in case you didn't know, that many people and/or animals in one bed is not the most comfortable way to sleep. I believe laying in the middle of the street as cars swerved around to avoid hitting  me would be more peaceful than sleeping with my two friends who proceeded to stick their feet in my face while making weird noises in their sleep.   

On Tuesday night I spent the night in Alpine at Kaylee's house and if situations could not get worse Charlie tried to commit suicide by trying to make friends with a horse. The little angel presumed to go in the stall with a horse known to kick dogs in the head. Luckily my death threats to Charlie paid off as he did not get kicked in the head.

Kaylee and I made dinner, which consisted of hamburger helper and frozen corn, and watched "He's Just Not That Into You." While it was supposed to be a comedy, I didn't find anything funny about it as every situation made me realize why I am still single. I would consider it more of an informational movie as to why all of my relationships have failed.

On Wednesday night I again spent the night with Kaylee but this time it was at her beach house. Things were starting to look up as the kids and I were couch surfing in style. But I then thought it was a good idea to drink massive amounts of alcohol by myself. While trying to peer pressure my friends into falling off the wagon with me I presumed to drink myself under the table. Apparently peer pressure doesn't work on anyone except for me. For example you don't even have to pressure me to drink, I have adopted Nike's moto and just do it...on a nightly basis.

Note To Self: Drinking on a work night is not a great idea. Not only are you extremely hungover and very unproductive at work but you contemplate ways to kill your coworkers which is very unhealthy and psychotic. 

But back to Wednesday night. I presumed to proposition this guy who I thought was cute at the time in passing to come over and hang out. I got a free bottle of champagne that night but the next day I had to try and reason with Kaylee and myself that he was cute. 

Another Note to Self: when you have to reason with yourself that a guy is cute chances are he is not. 

I spent the night on Thursday again at Kaylee's beach house. Kaylee and I presumed to stay on the wagon and not consume any alcoholic beverages. It was hard at first but I was glad I had someone there to comfort me during the shakes. We went to bed relatively early but I woke up this morning more tired than ever. I went to work and that was uneventful and depressing as Kaylee texted me numerous times telling me to come home. 

Dear Kaylee, 

I can't come home I have to fucking work but thanks for making sure I know that you are home taking naps and relaxing. 

Love, Brittany

P.S. I hate you. 

My friends try to ruin my life everyday. I think I need new friends.

Hopefully this weekend will be more eventful, as my boring life is deterring me from being funny in my blogs, but until then: Don't get caught drinking while driving and spay and neuter your pets.

Weekender

After working for what seemed to be a month straight in a Chinese sweat shop, but what realistically only amounted to be a normal 9-5 work week, I was hell bent and ready to go out on the town.

I had not been out in two weeks and so despite being deathly tired after a long day I put on another layer of makeup, took a Mexican shower - and for those of you who don't know what it is, it is another application of deodorant followed by spraying on a lot of perfume - and then went to Mission Valley.

Jenny came over and so I grabbed a drink for the road and we were off to my friend Brian's house to go in the jacuzzi and consume more than enough alcoholic beverages.

Upon arriving to Brian's house I saw that the boys were spray painting blank canvas' so of course I decided it would be a great idea to get in on the action and spray paint while already intoxicated. Of course that didn't end up being the best idea as I already am artistically challenged and with alcohol involved it was a disaster waiting to happen. Mind you Brian and his friends are trained artists and know what they're doing, me on the other hand....not so much. We drank, danced, drank some more, painted, and had a great night with great friends...or at least I think that's what happened.

Kaylee and I ended up passing out in Brian's bed and I woke up the next morning to the utterly horrifc sight that is Kaylee without makeup, after too little sleep and drool crust covering the corners of her mouth. At first glimpse I was wondering where the hell I was and why the hell was Kaylee laying next to me instead of one of the hot men that frequented Brian's house.

I then thought to myself:

"SELF: perhaps there were not any cute men present and instead those wretched beer goggles tried to ruin your life again by tricking you into thinking that a bald, overweight-divorcee is actually attractive."

I then smiled as I became pleased with myself that in my drunken stupor I made the executive decision to pass out before I did something I would regret. Yay me.

Kaylee and I (in Brian's bed minus Brian) looked over the edge to see him passed out in his boxers on the ground next to his bed. Operation find a comfortable place to sleep at someone else's house, perhaps stealing their bed in the process, was a success. However the joke was on me as I ended up with more paint on me than on the painting I made and woke up to people laughing at me because unbenounced to me I had paint all over my arm which had rubbed off onto my face during my peaceful-passed out sleep.

I also had drawings covering my arms as apparently I had asked people to draw on me because at the time I thought it was cool. The morning after was another story. I looked like I had a rough night, and not the good kind, as I couldn't get off the paint despite scrubbing in the shower for 15 minutes until my arm felt like it was going to fall off.

After chugging two glasses of water and praying to God to make me feel better, we went to The Waterfront for breakfast to see Kaylee who was working that day.

Note to self: going to a bar for breakfast while hungover = bad idea.

I put my arms on the counter and plopped my head between them all while yelling at Kaylee "Excuse me mam our service is horrible; excuse me I need water; I need better service, this place sucks etc. etc"

Please note: If you work anywhere in public do yourself a favor and do not tell me where it is at as I will come in, make an ass out of myself and take everyone down with me.

But the food was amazing and Kaylee got off shortly thereafter so we ditched the boys and went to her beach house.

Now any sane person who goes to the beach would actually walk onto the sand and lay in the sun by the ocean but not Kaylee and I. Despite the beautiful day we presumed to nap inside for a good two hours. After we couldn't sleep any longer I rolled over to Kaylee and said "Ok now lets get really drunk," and I know she will be a lifelong friend because to that she said "Sounds great."

And so around 2:30 p.m. we made our first drink of the day. (The beer we consumed at 11:00 a.m. doesn't count because that was just to cure the hangover). We care so much about our health that we decided to make vodka/crans because as per us "The cranberry juice will clean out our system while we drink!"

The rest of the day is pretty much a blur. I know more people came over and I ended up pissing off a lot of people because according to my friends I'm a mean drunk. I do remember that Melissa came over and Kaylee and I happened to be fighting at the time. Kaylee and I frequently fight during our drunken times as usually one of four things happen:

A. She is being a bitch
B. I am being a bitch
C. She becomes very sentimental
D. Refer to B.

Melissa then told both of us that we were being ridiculous and that she really needed a beer especially after dealing with our drama. So we made up, continued our drinking and I continued my mean-drunk state.

True fact: one of our friends who happens to be black was making fun of my tattoo and so I presumed to tell him he is just jealous because he can't get a color tattoo. When he asked me why I told him it was because he was tanner than most people. Seriously who does that?

Note to self: try to think before I talk.

I went home to my mom's house later Saturday and was locked out. After knocking on the door for 20 minutes praying to Babe Ruth that my step-dad didn't wake up and my baby brother didn't wake up either, my mom let me in. We talked till 2 a.m. about life and it was a great talk.

I woke up around 12:30 p.m. on Sunday and tried to cure my ailing body and liver both of who punished me the whole day for my sleep deprivation and alcoholic-like tendencies.

And then today I went to work. Is it Friday yet?

P.S. I am going to try to be a nicer person when I drink.

P.P.S. Keyword in the last statement was "Try."

The Birds and the Bees

It can happen at any time and any place. It can happen when you're least expecting it. You never want it to happen, you pray to God, Buddha, Brad Pitt or whoever you worship to not let it come to this but chances are you have experienced "the talk."

You know that awkward conversation with your parents or even your family members about the "birds and the bees."

On a Side Note:
What the hell do birds and bees have to do with sex? I'm not a biologist and don't claim to be an expert on the creation of species but I'm pretty sure birds and bees don't fornicate with one another nor do they don't make some new hybrid animal. Whoever the sick person was who thought about birds and bees doing it should be put on some sort of medication.
On second thought maybe I should increase my dosage of medication because the more I entertain the idea of birds and bees having sex the more I like the scenario.

Now you may be saying what the hell is this girl talking about but picture this:

The bird is the female and the bee is the male.

The two meet and decide they are both adults and should have a night of reckless passion.

The bird ultimately gets what she wants out of the deal (yeah she's a little sore afterward with the bee stinging her and all) but then the bee dies (because a bee can only sting once).

Now the bird doesn't have to worry about STD's because she knows it was his first time, she doesn't worry about faking a headache later because he wants more lovin' and she doesn't have to worry about him running off to tell all his bee friends about their sexual charade because he's dead.

Sounds great to me.

But back to the talk about the "birds and the bees" with your family. Now this is already an awkward enough conversation as noone wants to talk about bodily fluids, functions or whatever with their parents. Nor does anyone want to hear or think about their conception.

I too have had this talk with my mom and dad and it was bad but it did not come close to being as bad as having the same sort of conversation with my boss who I have known for a whole two weeks.

And this is how it went down:

While in the midst of what I thought was an innocent tutorial from my boss about how to use a certain website to quote sources when writing it quickly turned into the most awkward thing ever.
While showing me a website about Law I foolishly divulged a bit of my personal life to him by telling him I already knew about the site because I used to date a lawyer.

Note to Self: Never say anything to boss anymore.

Upon hearing that I used to "date" my boss proclaimed "you're not allowed to have a boyfriend!"

Second Note to Self: Look into terrets syndrome and observe boss to see if he has it.

After his comment that I was not allowed to have a boyfriend I made an awkward laugh as I realized my previous statement about dating someone just opened pandora's box. The next statement from my boss was that all men are assholes and only want one thing. Hmmmm I wonder what that one thing could be? Could it be the same thing I want?
(Grandma I'm talking about chocolate cake).

My boss then proceeds to tell me they only want one thing and when they get it they leave and that I should wait for the right guy.

The following options ran through my head:

A. Run away
B. Cry
C. Kill myself
D. Run away, Cry and then Kill myself

Any of those would of been better than trying to maintain a straight face while being told by my superior that abstinence is the way because men love 'em and leave 'em.

Wow.

And if I thought that was the end of it I was wrong.... the very next day he presumed to tell me about Ray Charles and how the effect of heroin is much like that of an orgasm.
And I thought I was crazy....

A Long Time Coming

All of my blog fans (aka my Grandma) have been asking me why I have not been writing blogs that much recently, and besides the obvious reasoning that my prescription for vicodin ran out - which to any sane person would make them sleepy but of course has the opposite effect on me, an effect I can only relate to what crack does to a person....or so I've heard - and so other than that I don't really have a good answer. Oh wait maybe it's because my life for the past two weeks has been extremely boring and consists of working, sleeping, eating, working....oh yeah and working.

Let me break it down for you right quick.

On an average day I wake up around 8:15 a.m. - I should be waking up at 7:30 but of course my alarm clock always tries to ruin my life by allowing me to hit the snooze button at least ten times (whoever decided that button was a good idea was wrong).

I then proceed to get ready for work.

This routine consists of rolling around in bed for a good 15 minutes contemplating suicide or calling in sick to a job I have held for a whole two weeks while being licked and jumped on by Charlie and Stella. (And no I am not in a threesome bisexual relationship I have two dogs).

I then get out of bed and take them outside to allow them to relieve themselves and have an ice cold ciggarette. I come back inside wash my face, eat breakfast and on a good day brush my teeth.

Realizing it's now 8:45 a.m. and I should be at work by nine I rush to throw together a business-like outfit, straighten my hair and put on some makeup - which usually ends up looking like I put it on while intoxicated. For those of you who know me the outfit has to be the most difficult part for me as a UCLA t-shirt and comfy shorts have become my uniform.

I hop in the car just to sit in traffic and make it to work by 9:30 and start on my first cup of coffee. After sitting around for a good 15 minutes in my chair dreaming of the days when "summer" meant not having to do anything sober, I check my e-mail, go on pandora to put on some music and then see what I have to do for the day. And then I work writing all day.

Please note: For the sake of myself, my co-workers and for security purposes I will not indulge in writing what else I do at work. If you would like to know I will tell you in conversation without recording devices present.

P.S. Michael Pines (my boss) if you are reading this I love my job.

I get off around 5:30-6:00 p.m. and rush out the door just to sit in, you guessed it, more traffic putting me at home around 6:30 p.m. I get home throw on my uniform (UCLA t-shirt and boxers) and play with Michael. After being exhausted from the days work I get calls from my friends asking me to go out to this bar or club only to turn them down because I want to get in a good nights sleep.

Depressing. Good thing I'm on medication.

Throughout the day Melissa and I talk about 20 times: As I stated in a previous blog Melissa and my relationship is "special". We are the sisters we both never wanted, best friends and way too much alike which in any relationship; friend, foe or lovers, is never is a good thing.

Again as I said in a prior post to anyone on the outside looking in we look like we are in a relationship: a bipolar, dysfunctional, want to kill myself relationship. If I don't answer her phone call Melissa will presume to call me ten times in a row because she knows I always have my phone with me and if she can annoy me enough I will answer.

Today:

Melissa: What are you doing

Brittany: I'm at work what the hell do you think I'm doing
Melissa: Oh when are you going to take a break

Brittany: I don't know

Melissa: Let's get lunch

Brittany: Ok when

Melissa: I don't know

Brittany: Ok we made a lot of progress out of this conversation. I got to go bye.

Five minutes later:

Melissa: What are you doing

Brittany: Working

Melissa: Still?

Brittany: Stupid bitch it's only 11:00 a.m. you know I work until 5:30

Melissa: Oh. When are we going to get lunch?

Brittany: I don't think I can today how about tomorrow

Melissa: What the F*** Brittany you said we would and now I made plans with you and I could of gone with someone else and not been waiting on you

Brittany: Melissa I can't today alright

Melissa: Whatever screw you bye

Five minutes later:

Melissa: Hey what's up

Brittany: Nothing what are you doing

Melissa: Nothing

Brittany: Cool

Melissa: Yeah

Brittany: Yeah

Etc. Etc. Etc.

And so in conclusion I will try to write more blogs but as you can see my non-eventful life is hindering my creativity.

In other news the Padres lost again today. Is it football season already? At least the Lakers are in the finals.