- 4 days of pure sunshine. check.
- bbqs on the beach with my favorite metal video vixens and friends. check
- cornhole games on the lawn of the conservatory of flowers. check.
- cornhole in workshop. check.
- cornhole everywhere. check.
- bbq's at workshop. check.
- my fresh chili lime corn with thyme. check.
- awesome catch up with awesome friends. check.
- awesome hang time with new peeps. check.
- flirting with boys. check.
- flirting with men. check.
- flirting with dirtballs. check. unfortunately.
- watching my guys friends chase girls in bikinis and not take no well at all. check.
- epic rock show. check.
- pickling at workshop. check.
- illegal fireworks. check.
- one makeout session. check.
- sangria on divis. check.
- beers and fried chicken while i saw topless girls. check. (you don't have to be gay or man to enjoy this)
ironically enough, i am stunned by 3 magical revelations this from this weekend.
shocker no 1.
BAD FOOD MAKES YOU FEEL BAD: eating chips, some kfc (yes it was at the bbq, all million buckets of it thanks to a magical lady with tawny kitean hair and a zebra swimsuit, who also bit my ass while dancing) and drinking even in low doses after 3 weeks of being super healthy will make you feel like you are: dead and have come back as a zombie. you get headaches. you get drunk off like nothing and i am pretty sure i reversed a few pounds of the 15lb wait loss. man, does bad food fuck your shit up after you go good for a while. i was actually craving my green juices today and couldn't wait to get raped at the whole food checkout counter (i mean my wallet sensitive folks). i am officially there and back and wait for it....I LIKE EATING HEALTHY. i actually love it. despite the time, money and effort it takes, i feel too good to give it up. it only took 37 years.
the even more surprising part is, guess what, when you finally accept your body and all its flaws. don't diet. don't set goals for weight or size loss. don't set a goal to land a guy or win over the lead singer of your favorite band as a prize. and well, actually just learn and do it to stay alive, it works. i have failed on every diet ever. I've been 180 lbs. I've been 250 lbs. Ive been 380 lbs. I've lost it. put it back on. and yo yo-ed for 2 decades and when it finally stuck. maybe I'm cheating a little bit, the whole fear of god thing helped. but if you want, you can pay me $20- and ill call you, say I'm a doctor and tell you you re dying and need to eat kale. i can use the money and I'm good with accents if you want me to pretend I'm a russian doctor and then i sound like a Jamaican bartender (one bead Malila!). C'mon that'll work. anyway, its pretty cool. I'm actually trying to grow food now too. wtf? its not enough that I'm eating healthy, now i think I'm some kind of farmer? (you would too if you saw my grocery bills)
shocker no 2.
SOBER FLIRTING IS BETTER: i said better, not easier. i flirted with guys sober. wow, when you flirt without like 5 glasses of liquid courage- it goes smoother. and you don't blurt out, hey wanna make out after 10 minutes, making an ass out of yourself or leading it to a high speed freight train to hit it- and quit it town or one nightstandville. i actually got to know some rad guys i thought were cute, that now move onto stage two. and by stage two, it just sounded good. i actually have no idea what is next because i rarely get this far without running. him running. or both of us over-thinking it so much that we stall out. so, new discovery. there are nice guys out there who have jobs and aren't douches....AND its better if you don't have half a flask of liquid courage in you. wow. novel.
shocker no 3.
THERE IS A THING AS A BARE-BREASTED HIGH FIVE.
step aside bros, no matter how multi faceted your handshake or pound is, a pair of bare breasts will always slay yours. girls can actually high five with their bare breasts. tits. boobs. whatever your term of choice is. yes, i saw it. it is burned in my memory. so is the thought that i need bigger nipples, but i guess you can't have everything. maybe more kale will sprout them.
off to round two. lets hope this goes by fast so i can rinse and repeat this awesome pattern i have going that is making this all so much more bearable:
week one: sick as balls. at home with cuddly cats, soups, lots of cooking and excessive amounts of awesome cable tv shows, comedy and horror movies (nothing makes you feel better about cancer than seeing a zombie eat someone's face off...hey it could get worse apparently). lots of visitors and being encouraged to be stoned as hell and sleep alot. little work. just the necessary.
week two: feeling slow but cabin fever enough to hang out in workshop all the time making cool shit. like pillows. windowboxes. a record cabinet. screenprinted dishtowels and sewing a dress (yes i did all this on the last round). even getting out for an occasional meal and some forced bike rides to the panhandle and flat areas. some work.
week three: feels like a million bucks compared to the shitshow of week one. more energy. boy craziness back. mad desire to get out, feel some sun. get the power tools out. get crazy creative and work a ton. feel like an energizer bunny meets martha stewart of organic cooking. and yes, i did show up to every 4th of july bbq and party with chili lime corn, homeade seasoning, some handmade lemon thyme hooch, an emergency muddler, lemons & limes and handmade beer koozies to give the world (or your beers) some love. even if i had to pick them out of the sand once you went home with whatever his name was that you picked up after downing 18 freedom colored buds and enough corn & tomato in your teeth to create a ceviche. atleast you got some snacks for after your 4th of july booty call of the moment. but, I'm not bitter just sober enough to see the shitshow go down instead of being the centerpiece.
enough of my rant. holiday over. onto week one again and enjoy your hangovers 'merica!
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