she asked me at dinner the other night, “will you please make a facebook account?”
after the minor temper tantrum and kicking and screaming, i finally agreed.
i feel beaten. i have lost a battle that i never intended to surrender to. my white flag is waving in the air, and i am lying on the ground in the fetal position, whimpering in broken english to myself.
facebook, here i come. you may have won this battle, FB, but your mother is still a whore.
michigan drivers are still dickheads. sure, i don’t fear for my life as much as i do driving in arizona, but for the love of baby jesus, in the past 18 hours, i’ve been honked at three times and given the finger twice. i’m sorry that arizona driving laws have broken me of my habit of driving ten miles over, but there’s no need to yell at me when i am driving 5 MPH within the posted speed limit.
but at least here i can give the finger back to the asshole that flipped me off in the first place. sure, we might have guns, but at least i know 20 of their closest mexican cousins won’t roll up on me, and try to give me a mexican oil change. (that’s not a good thing, just so you know.)
urination. all the time. any age. anywhere.
it was bath time for my god son after an exciting/sloppy dinner of spaghetti. his mother and i were in the bathroom, filling up the bathtub, and i was going to help my god son out of his clothes, and in to the tub. i took off his onesie and diaper when all of a sudden his mom said, “come on, ben…renee, look out, he’s peeing.”
i looked down, and go figure, right as the diaper came off, he decided he had to go.
“come on, man,” i said, “are you marking your territory? what are you, a beagle?”
silly kid. i’m sure grown men would do the same thing.
stupid stripper attire.
while thrift shopping with my lovely friend brett, we stumbled upon a few gems on our re-sale adventure.
first off, he found a ryan cabrera shirt that was too small for him, so by default, i got it. it turned out to be my favorite shirt, after all.
we ventured on to another salvation army where i found a futon-like old school bed that i fell in love with. (gross? perhaps…but i don’t care.) i hopped in the bed and curled up, and then sniffed the mattress. “it smells like sex…trailer park sex,” i said, right before i climbed out.
“well, that’s a big bed, so it must have been a double wide,” brett added in. he’s pretty smart.
i also found a shirt at another place that i took a picture of, that i will have to post later. not only does it contain a strong racial message, but the grammar is completely incorrect. what a way to make a statement. stupid.
and the last greatest find consisted of two pairs of shoes. one was a pair of stripper thigh-high, red pleather boots, and there was a pair of obvious stripper shoes. both were in my size, but i resisted the urge. “someone must have had great sex in these,” i said. “but seriously, what stripper decided to donate her stuff to the salvation army?” as i set the shoes back down, i slammed my nail on to the ground on accident. dammit. that’s going to leave a mark.
by the look on brett’s face, i could tell that i said that way too loud. i guess the look on the other peoples’ faces gave it away, too. boo.
i was driving down my parent’s driveway and saw my dad blowing the leaves around with his handy-dandy leaf blower machine. i stopped the car, rolled down the window and taunted, “i don’t know if you are aware of this, but the wind does that for free.”
of course, he already knew this. he’s a smart guy. must be where i get it from.
you know it!
(that one was for you, aimes.)
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 30TH, I WILL BE GUEST BAR TENDING AT WHISKEY’S IN LAKE ORION.
okay, i’ll stop yelling. but i just wanted everyone to know. whiskey bob is awesome and offered me the chance to get behind the bar with my number one sidekick (amy, duh) and we shall be tearing it up like the good old days.
stop on in, have a drink, and make fun of me because it’s been a while since i’ve gotten people drunk. (usually i just get myself drunk. i’m pretty good at that.)
if you’ve got questions, i might have answers.
see y’all at whiskey’s!
sitting in my friend’s styling chair at the hair salon the other day, she was combing through my hair, asking what i wanted to have done with it.
“i want to look like one of those bitches on the hills,” i blurted out.
“i love that you watch the hills,” lindsey said.
yeah. umm. too late now. the secret is out. i do a lot of lame things when i sit at home alone. eating string cheese while googling taylor swift may or may not be one of those things.
is he looking at you, or at the guy in the corner? who knows for sure. but i love this picture so much, that i am debating on getting wallpaper in this print so i can have this in my bathroom.
i was on the phone with my friend, adriane, telling her what my plans for the week were.
“well, my schedule is pretty much free except for wednesday. i am going trick-or-treating with my god son,” i said.
“on a wednesday? that’s not halloween,” she replied.
“yeah, i don’t know. it’s going to be weird having strangers come up to your house, asking for candy on a day that is not halloween. last time i checked, that was called begging, and homeless people do it.”
renee; 1. homeless people; 0.
thank goodness they don’t have access to the internet, and therefor, cannot beat me senseless in an alley.
today was extremely eventful for a small town gal in michigan. who would have guessed? and it’s far from being over.
the day started with some garage sale-ing with my mom and becca (my brother’s GF). although i was running on about 5 hours of sleep, i couldn’t miss out on the chance to find treasures amongst other peoples’ rejected items.
stop one consisted of an estate sale. while browsing through the goods, my mom found a book that was titled, “grandma’s memories.” it was one of those books that asks questions about life and the owner is supposed to fill in the memories. we flipped it open and there wasn’t anything written on the inside.
“oh, it’s blank,” my mom said.
“hmm. apparently grandma has no memories…it must be the alzheimers,” i said.
stop two was a very small sale, but as we walked up we saw a lava lamp for sale, so you just knew there was going to be some cool shit. becca found an electric cyclone lamp thing and i found a “date ball” (a pink girly version of an eight ball.) i shook the ball while asking the question, “will i contract genital herpes someday?” i flipped the ball over to see the answer and it said, “sounds good to me!” umm. no. this does not sound good to me. you’re only saying that because you won’t be the one experiencing open sores. eww.
stop three was uneventful, but there was an awesome black, strapless sequined dress, made sometime circa 1989. no, i did not end up buying it.
the three of us then ventured to the new goodwill in town. it was half off your entire purchase today, so the place was packed. becca and i were looking through the sweatshirts and zip-up hoodie section when becca found something that she really wanted. it was an eddie bauer zip up fleece jacket. she examined the outside, and unzipped it to check the inside.
“oh, look, someone left something in the pocket. you can see the liner in the jacket bulging a little,” becca said.
“do you think you want to look to see what it is?” i asked.
“well, before i buy it, i gotta see what’s in the pocket.”
just then, becca carefully unzips the pocket, as if she were trying to disengage a bomb. we both move in closer to see what gem someone had left behind in this amazing eddie bauer fleece. the zipper was all the way down, and becca spreads the pocket open.
it was EFFING UNDERWEAR.
we both screamed, jumped back from the article of clothing like it was giving out free rectal exams, and started crying.
who the eff puts their underwear in their pocket, forgets about it, and then donates that piece of clothing to goodwill?
“wow, becca, you chose a good one,” i cried.
“no, no, no, it chose me,” becca said in between laughs/dry heaves.
after we had caused a scene at goodwill and washed our hands, we continued to browse through the items (very carefully.) i picked up a jacket, stuck my hands in the pockets and said, “weird, becca. this one comes without underwear.”
while we were standing in the check out line (no, becca did not buy that fleece, after all) i noticed the guy in front of me buying some books. the one sitting on top of the pile was dr. suess’ “green eggs and ham.”
i pointed to his book and said, “oh! that’s a good book! if you can’t tell, i’m highly intellectual.”
the guy kind of backed off. i really don’t blame him.
i finally got to the cashier and made brief conversation with her.
“were you in here with your girlfriends yesterday?” she asked me.
“no. first time in here for me. why? was there someone in here that looked like me yesterday?”
“oh, i don’t really know,” she responded with a prescription pill OD look on her face.
“oh. okay then,” i said.
great awkward way to end my emotionally scarring experience at goodwill, lady. i will forever remember this day. it shall be called, “the day i almost accidentally touched gonorrhea in an eddie bauer fleece” day. mark your calendar.