I have talked about the featured guest blogger in previous posts such as here, here, and here.  She is someone I hold dearly in my heart.  She has a special place.  I have said it before and will say it again.  She is an AMAZING woman!  She blogs here.  Check her out!

So here I am, a guest blogger for my girl, K.  When she asked me to write a post for her blog, I was both flattered and apprehensive.  While I love to write, I don’t know how well it comes out when I am under pressure.  Wait, not that K is pressuring me.  It’s the expectation I put on myself to pen a witty and insightful post that has me a little nervous.  What if I come off sounding like a self absorbed whiner? Or worse, what if I don’t leave an impression at all?
 
These are the thoughts that go through the brain of someone who has battled with herself from the time she can remember.  Instead of just letting the words flow, thoughts turn into worries and worries turn into frustrations. Round and round it goes, feeding and recycling off of itself.  It’s a perfect example of how mental illness can trick your rational mind into a frenzy for no reason. It’s also a sign of my insecurity, which I will readily admit, is a problem.  I care far too much about what other people think.
 
So, after obsessing for a few days, I decided to simply sit down, and type whatever came into my brain.
 
Those of you who are devoted reader of K’s blog already know about her struggle with BPD.  She manages to capture some of her worst moments with a sense of humor and  wit, which I find refreshing and bold.  Those who can put a clever spin on the serious topics in life have my admiration.  I am more of a stereotypical tortured soul who agonizes over not only the serious side of life, but the lighter side too.  However, I didn’t want to bring a dark cloud into K’s blog, and I am trying to broaden my horizons both as a person, and as a writer. The following is a small collection of tips, lessons, and anecdotes from my own life that I hope will at the very least, peak your interest.
 
Candid Beauty’s Tips for Crazy Girls

- The internet is a great tool for  forming friendships and relationships.  It’s not just for  ‘ugly fat losers who can’t get a date.’  Not only did I meet my husband in a chatroom, but some of my closest friends were found online.  Fuck people who judge your chosen method of communication.  
 
- Waiting until you are drunk to address an issue is NEVER a good idea.  You look foolish when your bluff is called as you slur your words, not noticing that you can’t keep your balance.  You also stand a much greater chance of getting punched by the tough girl you are targeting, before you have a chance to pretend that you know how to retaliate.  This is especially important if you are new to the area and still making a first impression on people.  Coming into a social clique and stirring up the pecking order is hard enough, but when you  address it drunkenly in front of everyone , you forget that no one is on your side yet.
 
- Giving relationship advice to some  girlfriends can backfire.  Say you have a really good friend, who happens to be a few years younger than you and she’s having issues with her boyfriend who should be mature, given his age, but isn’t.  If you become the person she runs to when she needs to vent, eventually, you’ll end up telling her that she deserves better and he’s a dickhead and blah, blah, blah.  Gues what happens then?  After a girl’s night, she goes home and unleashes her anger at her man, yelling every not -so -nice thing you’ve ever said about him, and citing you as her source.  All of a sudden, you are in the middle of something that was never your problem to begin with.  She and he wind up temporarily making up, and you are no longer a welcome friend because it appears you’ve been trying to stir up trouble, when all you were trying to do was be a shoulder to lean on. 
 
- Don’t fish for compliments. People aren’t  there solely to boost your fragile ego. It gets old, and your blazing insecurity turns people off.  However, don’t overcompensate for that insecurity by being purposely brash and demanding to constantly be center of attention.  Then you just look childish. And crazier than you really are.  If you shut your trap, compliments will come your way. And they won’t be forced.
 
- Say what you mean.  When you tell him that you don’t mind if he goes out drinking with the guys, make sure that you really DON’T mind.  Brewing inside because you erroneously think that he is trying to ‘escape’ your insanity for an evening will not lead to a cheery reunion.  At 4 a.m. when he comes in stumbling, greeting him with rage is going to cause a fight.  And it ain’t gonna be pretty.  Your neediness and jealousy won’t go over well. In fact, it might just cause him to re-evaluate whether he really wants a basketcase in his life.  P.S. Hinting and talking around an issue is NOT saying what you mean, and it’s a good way to confuse the hell out of the person you are trying to communicate with.  Being passive aggressive and sarcastic rather than direct isn’t going to get the point across either.  Instead, you’ll come off like a bitch, and if he calls you on it, his point will just be further proved by your reaction.
 
- Testing someone’s love and devotion is a shitty thing to do.  Avoid this manipulative behavior at all costs.  Don’t make empty threats about ending the relationship when that’s the last thing you want.  Don’t test how much crazy he can take from you in one day.  And never purposely hurt yourself to get his attention.  It will scare him to his core and you may wind up in a hospital psych ward.  It’s not his fault that you are a bottomless pit of need, and don’t know how to ask for help.  
 
- Slamming a door will not end an argument. It will only prolong it.  Try it. I dare you to see how well that goes over.
 
- It’s ok to have positive affirmations written on post-its, stuck all over your bedroom.  Though it may feel silly at first,  it’s proven that things stick in your brain when you read them repeatedly out loud.  If you are feeling really brave, try saying that shit when you look in the mirror. If you can get to a point where that doesn’t feel awkward, you’ve already conquered a huge part of the problem.
 
- Learn to appreciate the male reproductive organs.  Nothing turns a man on more than a woman who enjoys playing with his rod.  It won’t bite, though it may spit a little.  Penises are pretty cool things when you know what makes them stand firm. As a bonus, you realize the power a woman can posess with sexual prowess.  All women should be aware and in touch with the power of the mere suggestion of pussy.  Just don’t abuse the power.

- Don’t define yourself by any disorder or illness, be it physical or mental.  Two things can happen.  First, you sell yourself short and focus on all the negatives.  Second, you become trapped and victimized which makes change seem impossible.  You are not the sum of your problems, unless that’s what you believe.
 
- Remember that the world does not revolve around you, no matter how much it seems like it does.  If you constantly pick the longest line at Target, it’s not a conspiracy to make you annoyed. You just pick long lines.  If you’re late and stuck in traffic, the old woman in front of you who can’t drive is not trying to piss you off.  Flipping her the bird when you finally pass her is just plain mean and unnecessary.  If the girl at Forever 21 gives you a funny look, ignore it and assume she’s having a bad day.  Or, just maybe, stop and look around.  Is she even looking at you? 
 
- Finally, if you are a person who has to be right about everything, you can try to drown out the other point of view by raising your voice louder, and then even louder, so that no one can get another word in, but you wind up looking like a boisterous asshole. Even if you are right.
 

All EXCELLENT tips and tips I am glad I read before my little weekend away with Frappe.  I might just have to print this out.  For serious.

Pinch me.  I hope this is a nightmare.

This bestest is marrying the devil with horns.  I of course found out from my brother but the news was confirmed when I spoke to the “groom to be” himself over the weekend. 

I am not going to lie.  I couldn’t stop laughing in his face.

Since my last blog post about the happy couple has been arrested “again” for the same “accusation”.  She has also violently whacked out when my brother was over there.  He witnessed the crazy.

It’s my guess they will marry at the court house by the Justice of Peace, there will be a reception at the VFW that she works for (open bar/well drinks and beer), and then back to the court house for the grooms bond hearing.

Why?

I cannot wait for my brothers Best Man speech. 

Today is Valentine’s Day.  In case you haven’t heard.  Thus far today I have completed a 1 hour personal training session, made 3 dozen Ghirardelli kiss shortbread cookies, and showered.

I’m already tired.  Yawn.

Where am I going with this Valentine post of mine?  I have no clue.

Let’s take a look at last Valentine’s Day.  I was newly single, still heartbroken but healing quickly, and fat.  Ha.  I received 3 bouquets of flowers from 3 different guys.  These men no longer talk to me.  Ha.  I lost 3 guys in my life in a year!  Does ExAss really count though?

Anywho…

This Valentine’s Day I have spent time with Bacci and took tons of pictures of him in his red polo with his Valentine’s Day basket complete with 2 toys and Lil’ Beggin Strips.  We all know Bacci only receives Beggin Strips on holidays. 

Bacci is the only guy I need.

Later this evening I will be at Medieval Times with Frappe, per my request.  If I am lucky he will fulfill my request for a single fake rose adorned with glitter purchases at a gas station.  We will then head over to the Melting Pot because he doesn’t feel Medieval Times is “romantic” enough. 

I am off to package my cookies for my 2 bestest and Frappe.

Let’s hope a knight tosses me a rose!

Lets get one thing out of the way.  I am the girl that buys all of the pink glossy covered books at Borders.  I don’t just “peruse” them for a few moments of hillarity and not purchase them.  I buy them immediately.

I will also say I had no problem being “that girl” last Saturday night.

According to Travis Stock MD, “that girl” is not the girl to be.  I need to reread the book.  I fail.

J and I decided we needed to get out of the house last Saturday night even if it meant staying local. The weekend before was the weekend the Chicago snow wouldn’t stop and we wound up exchanging 23423 text messages “pretending” we were talking at a bar.  It was our mock trial of debauchery.

We needed the real thing.  I, per the usual, took it to the extreme and J is right there up with me on the extremist level.

We began the night with a quiet drink at the local wine bar to see where the rest of the night would lead us.  This was my 1st drink of the night and only drink of the night that I paid for and clearly remember consuming.

After a few telephone calls, we decided to venture to Ontourage because NOTHING else was going on. It wasn’t exactly 65 degrees and sunny in Chicago.

We stopped and grabbed a few gas station energy pills and chased them with a couple of Red Bulls.  We set sail for La Salle and Ontario.

The moment we walked into Ontourage we noticed that J’s best guy friend had a table complete with 2 bottles of Goose.

Score.

He saw us coming and ordered yet another bottle.

I got sloppy.  REAL sloppy.

Of course we werent done yet because it was only 1:30 am.

We wound up going to 2 local afterhour bars. 

I got sloppier.

All withhin an hour I became the beligerent drunk by calling a Greek friend of J’s a malaka after being introduced, the emotional drunk by crying hysterically because of the L situation; which as of Friday has been resolved, and the sloppy floozy drunk trying to catch a veneral disease by throwing my tongue down some random guys throat for an hour or so.

Today marks a week of my detoxification.  After the above and the fact that I had all signs of alcohol poisoning on Sunday, I decided to stop drinking for a month.  It has been a week and I have decided that a month is unfathomable. 

When can I be the responsible drunk?

P.S. I didnt post this post any sooner because I am a walking contradiction.  If I would have wrote it the Monday following my night of debauchery it would have been all lies about how I was giving up the booze for life and joining the nunnery.  LIES!

P.P.S  My sudden need to giggle like a 19 year old on the telephone for HOURS with boy has also affected my blogging.  So shoot me because I sicken myself over it.  Trust me.

My car not starting because of the horrific bone chilling cold, freezing my gas line. At least that’s what my Step-Dad said. I just nodded as my nasal passages froze and lips turned blue. Apparently, I need “gas line antifreeze.” I’m sorry I didn’t know I lived in Alaska and I had no clue where one puts “anitfreeze”.

The freezing cold resulted in me talking to my bestest J for 3 hours via the telephone. We live less than a mile from each other but the Chicago weather has obviously turned us into 2 telephone loving cabin fevered freaks with earaches.

My lunging leg wobbling in defeat as I did lunge/hamstring curls using 10 lb weights. I was a Bacci hair short of passing out. My personal trainer had to hand feed me a 100c pack of mini muffins. A bite of a Fiber One bar before the gym does not work out well for me.

The surprise that my personal trainer is pregnant. She sprung the news on me as I was huffing and puffing on the elliptical. No worries. She plans on working out until the day she goes into labor. Isn’t laziness a part of pregnancy? Hell, if I ever am cursed blessed with a child one day when I am old and all boozed out, I will be all about French Fries and daytime television. I’m kidding kind of.

Today I reached an all time low and hid my Triple Sec and Schnapps because it looks like the liquor in them was slowly dropping. Momma is hitting the sauce again. She has polished off a bottle of Everclear when in desperation hence my reason for hiding the booze. I am pretty sure even the cough medicine and rubbing alcohol are options for her.

L not returning my text. The text read, “Was ExAss circumcised?” It was a serious question. I really am unsure. I think I have decided he was uncircumcised.

I spent an hour emailing a man of Greek origin. 

Chicago nightlife is hurting with the recession and the crippling cold. Its hurting so bad that I received cold calls rather than text messages trying to coerce my ass out in the cold. The calls offered free chair massages and free cover through 2009. The recession and my lack of job will not keep me from enjoying the Chicago nightlife but negative degree weather will. I’m not even sure a free fur coat would get me out tonight.

One of my best guy friends decided to propose to his “ginger” girlfriend on New Years Eve. I just found out today via word of mouth. I am not going to lie, I am kind of hurt. I introduced them. I hope my prize is not being invited to the wedding.

Thank goodness I didn’t waste much time blogging about all of the above because I have Style Network waiting for me with my best friends Split Ends and Clean House.

Mental illness strikes the core of your being.

It can steal your sense of worth, hopes, and dreams. Alienation sets in quickly and without warning.

You feel alone and at the mercy of your illness.

Nobody understands.

I was given a gift when my mental illness was beginning to swallow me whole.

The gift was A, an amazing friend who could understand my thoughts and feelings, as they often mirrored her own.

She has begun a blog.

I am hoping to assist in alleviating the stigma one blog at a time, as does she.

Could someone in Chicago have told me that I would probably have to chisel my car out of the ice it was encased in?

No worries. I scraped as little ice and snow off of my car as possible. I’m the obnoxious driver who’s car looks like the abdominal snow car and chunks of ice and mounds of snow fly off as I speed down the expressway.

After driving, or should I say dawdling my car 2 miles in the blustery snow and unplowed streets…

I made it to Panera. I order a nonfat iced chai and bowl of chicken tortilla soup. I’m not very hungry but figure I will sip the soup as a security blanket.

L didn’t seem to think she needed to call me back, so I called her and asked her if she got my text message.

She did but didn’t see a need to respond because she hadn’t said anything to M. Really, did you not sense the anger in my text and the need for me to at least vent?

I immediately when on to tell her of how shitty my day had been complete with the hogwash my step dad accused me of and the other nasty My Space message I had received.

Yup, another knife in the heart from My Space and this time from someone I had only met on one uncomfortable situation. 

Remember Yboy? Yboy decided to send me texts and messages via My Space beginning a few weeks ago. He sent simple things “Hey Sexy” and left comments on my pictures “Nice Legs” “Beautiful Smile as always”. I responded to his messages in a friendly manner as we have never been more.

I then receive a text from him 2 days before New Year Eve, “Hey sweetie. I know you have plans on New Years Eve but I would really like to spend the beginning of 2009 with you. I have 2 tickets to the party at the Hilton and one has your name on it. Let me know.”

I of course told him “NO” and wondered where the fuck his girlfriend went and why he would even think I would cancel my plans to devote my New Years Eve to him. Slap in the face, much??

I then log into My Space after responding and see his relationship status had changed to single and he had posted a bulletin. The bulletin read, “I just broke up with my girlfriend for bogus reasons and have an extra ticket to the NYE party at the Hilton, any takers?”

Really? Do I have “dumbass” engraved on my forehead?

I decide to respond to the bulletin with a simple “I am so sorry to hear about the breakup. I am here if you need to vent.”

He responded back, “No venting - only remorse”

Whatever. I wasn’t going to feed his ego after he tried to swindle me to his side at the beginning of his crumbling relationship.

I am not a spare tire or an imbecile.

Which brings us to the message. I receive a My Space message from his ex. The message read, “Yboy never dated you because you were an obnoxious slutty drunk.”

I didn’t even know it was her until I took a good look at her default and put 2 and 2 together.

How old are we? Last time I checked he was 33 years old, she was 29 years old, and I just turned 27 years old. Then again maybe I am wrong and we are all back in high school and she is playing the insecure psychotic ex card.

Delete. I did not respond or bring it to his attention because I am fully aware of my age and it is not 14.

I am not going to sit here and lie. The message hurt because I read it as the truth and not as a complete fictional jealous attempt of a heartbroken ex.

I am obnoxious but I am not a slut. In reality, I wish I possessed more slutty tendencies. Perhaps hugging is considered slutty because that’s all I ever did was hug and allow him to pick up heavy bar tabs.

I concluded, Yboy is an ass who I will, as I have been, keep at arms length and the girl is a crazy nut job.

At this point I am crying nonstop to L because I feel betrayed, disrespected, and shit on all before 5 pm on a Wednesday.

The employed have not even left work and I have received 3 slaps in the face.

My Blackberry’s speaker is going “wahhh wahhh” because it is filling with tears.

I explain to L that I wouldn’t have to point fingers or assume it was her if she didn’t talk to M in the first place. It’s bullshit is how I simply put it.

She hangs up leaving me feeling more upset because once again I feel as if she is devaluing our friendship.

I send a couple of text messages asking her to keep my name and face off of her My Space page and asking her to not bring up the situation to M because neither her or D deserve the limelight.

She doesn’t respond back.

Note:  This blog was written yesterday.  I have yet to hear from L.

After consuming 343 ounces of water, spending $60 on an updo complete with poof and ringlets, acrylic nails painted in “Eifel for this Color”, buying a new pair of patent pointy toe heels and clutch, and a burn thanks to my need to go tanning twice in one day

The night began early with L, Jax, and I meeting at my house to leave for the Sheraton who would be blessed with our occupancy for the night. My brother had to work late and took a cab to meet us there later in the evening.

We enjoyed our girl time in the car by sucking on caffeinated lollypops, downing sugar free Red Bulls, and popping Ice Breaker energy mints. Can you tell we have a bit of an addiction to all things caffeinated?

We went for a quick bite to eat at Houlihans. I have a tendency to forget to eat before a night of binge drinking which leads to me getting drunk off my ass even quicker, its possible. It’s a good thing I have L who refuses to let me not eat before drinking because she is the person blessed to deal with the drunken K. The first toast of the evening was at dinner. We clinked water glasses to our friendship.

Did I mention Chicago was effing cold on New Years Eve? FRIGID.

Us girls retreated back to the hotel to primp and meet my brother who had already had two Heinekens at the hotel lounge. Go figure!

Getting ready went much smoother than I imagined considering we were working with the vanity in the bathroom and the desk which sat before a mirror. We are proof that 3 girls can get ready in a small hotel room.

We looked fucking hot.  My New Years Eve attire was the suit.

The event was held at Navy Pier and I must say that was my only complaint. The location was less than convenient. It was held in the Grand Ballroom which is only accessible if you park in the parking garage otherwise you have to walk, half naked from the entrance of Navy Pier to the complete end of the pier.

Yes. Imagine it. Three girls walking in stilettos half naked through groups of tourists. One person actually exclaimed loudly after passing L “Holy shit that girl aint got no bra on.” L was wearing a suit similar to mine without a bra or cami, so sexy. I might as well have not even worn the cami because it looked like I was going braless and camiless throughout the night because the cami was that low cut.

After our 15 min walk through crowds of tourists holding hands and walking slowly through the pier, we made it to the Grand Ballroom and more importantly we made it to one of the many bars!

 We were by far one of the best dressed groups there. It seemed that Carson Pierie Scott’s homecoming dress department vomited all over the Grand Ballroom.

I would also like to note it is not okay to wear a bridesmaid dress on New Years Eve.

Getting drunk was easy, as getting a drink was far from difficult with all of the bars they had setup.

I was cursing Bacci throughout the night because my feet were killing from my new shoes.

I decided to throw a tantrum and retreat to a table to sit by myself. I was approached by 3 different guys trying to claim me as their own. Its amazing how many men will approach you when you are by yourself and look like a damsel in distress. I brushed them off and retreated back to my friends.

We became friends with a bartender which was convenient. She made sure we had champagne flutes full of champagne for midnight and matched us shot for shot. I’m really hoping “Rita” wasn’t driving her ass home that evening.

We danced and drank our pretty faces into 2009 with the Black Tie Affair performing and fireworks in the background.

L mistakenly kissed my baby brother on the “practice” countdown and was confused when the real countdown took place. She caught on.

My first kiss, my bestest Jax.

I was grateful to welcome 2009 confetti down my cleavage and all.

We retreated back to “our” bar and continued taking shots.

Things get blurry for a bit, bear with me.

I puke. It had to have been the cookie Jax romantically fed me earlier in the night. From what I hear… I puked behind the bar and then ordered another drink. I’m classy like that.

In between all of this, Jax decided she was going to go home with one of her friends that was supposedly there. We obliged. Well, I didn’t oblige because I was in a state of comatose but L and my brother did.

After puking the cookie I divulged earlier that evening, I was ready for more but the time was quickly approaching 2 am and L and my brother felt it was time for the evening to end.

The walk back to the entrance was foggy. I decided I would rather go shoeless and attempted to ditch my shoes somewhere in the stained glass museum.

We approach the entrance of Navy Pier and I spot Jax in the corner of my eye. She is crying and huddled up with a girl who I didn’t recognize. She is obviously drunk. I know drunk Jax. The girl holding her up was a stranger who was very willing to hand her drunk ass off to us.

Things begin to get foggy. I remember trying my damnest to quiet a belligerent Jax down hoping that the CPD did not arrest her and/or I because of the state we were in.

I really thought it was our day to get arrested.

The line to catch a cab was ridiculous. My brother eventually paid off a taxi driver $40 to drive us 3 blocks back to the Sheraton. Thank goodness for this rash decision because I am pretty sure Jax would have either passed out in the middle of the vestibule or even worse gotten arrested for telling everyone that approached her to fuck off including the men in blue.

By the time we get back to the room, I am ready to go for more or so I thought. I believe it took one shot of vodka and an order of uneaten $25 quesadillas before I passed out.

We all woke up pretty early the next morning and took inventory of what we may have lost. Jax wound up losing her MAC lip gloss and I lost my new clutch which contained a pill container full of Ativan, MAC lip gloss, and MAC lipstick. I am quite impressed with myself because earlier in the night I gave Jax my debit card and license for safekeeping. Yes, Jax did not lose her clutch even in the very poor condition she was in. I am thinking that I just no longer wanted to hold my clutch anymore and figured the best thing to do was to ditch it. I am smart like that. I had just bought the clutch and have yet to develop a bond.

Brunch was had by everyone but me as I cannot stomach food when hungover. We were back in the car headed home by noon.

New Years 2008 has come and gone. Where will I be New Years 2009? I think I am definitely going to try to make going out and painting the town red on NYE a tradition. I was a little hesitant about partying it up on NYE but really enjoyed it and am down for doing it again next year as long as driving is not in the equation.

I turned twenty-seven over the weekend.  Actually, today because I am dating this post back to my birthday, December 20th.  Archive reasons!

Twenty-Seven random things that occurred on December 20, 2008:

1.      I burned 400 calories on the elliptical

2.      I bought myself a tanning package to attempt to darken my “Casper” looking self.  I thought I was done with the bronze winter look but I’m not. 

3.      DYE job!  My hair is back to its dark chestnut brown.  I also think I found a new stylist.  Now only if she doesn’t run away like the other 2 potential stylists I have found in 2008.

4.      Chicago was blessed with RIDICULOUS weather.  The average temp for the day was 7.6 degrees and the snow did not stop falling.

5.      My Mom made me 27 cupcakes all topped with homemade white icing and pink sprinkles!

6.      Bacci helped me blow out my candles.

7.      My besties and I spent an hour driving around Lincoln Park in a snowstorm trying to find parking for our “original” destination of Vida Lounge.  Vida Lounge get VALET!

8.      Neither Jax nor I freaked out but rather played it “cool”.  We are very impatient people.  We immediately high five each other after we decided to get back onto 90-94 and change up the destination.

9.      Needless to say we hightailed it to Cafe Iberico after an hour of no luck in the parking spot department.

10.  I received a pair of hot gold Guess shoes from my bestie L. See! See!  Also. pictured is my Lola Martini Glass “Its 5′oclock Somewhere” that I got from Jax.

11.  Jax also armed me with what she calls “Single Girl Clutch” and L adorned me with a Givenchy Face on the Go Kit.  They look awesome but ..

12.  Look at how effing fun they are opened!

13.  Us 3 girls breezed through 2 full pitchers of Sangria in record time.

14.  We ordered 6 tappas and had lots of leftovers.

15.  My besties suprised me with an orgasm in my mouth. Hello… go right now and try Cafe Iberico’s BIZCOCHO BORRACHO! 

16.  We spent 20 minutes deciding if our next destination would be Moda or Manor.   We eventually decided on Moda.

17.  The first round of drinks consisted of 3 Bacardi Diets and 3 lemondrop shots.  That’s how we do!

18.  A guy “accidentally” spilled L’s drink and made it up to us by purchasing our next 2 rounds of drinks.

19.  We danced a lot.  Per the usual.

20.  We burrowed between 2 HUGE bouncers sheltering us from the violent Chicago winds as we waited for valet to bring around the car.

21.  We decided to go to an after-hours bar near our side of town.

22.  We lasted 5 minutes until we realized it was much too lame and demanded our $15 total in cover back.

23.  Jax got stuck in a snow bank in front of my house.

24.  L attempted to “unstuck” Jax’s car.

25.  My baby brother came to the rescue

26.  I fell asleep without pants.

27.  Definitely one of the best birthdays in my 27 years!

 Waking up on my 27th birthday I wasnt in the best of moods.  I was celebrating without “him” and I wouldnt be cuddled up ending my birthday with him and my fingers, ears, or neck adorned with diamonds.

I wasnt okay with it then but as my birthday drawed to a close I realized the diamonds I had as friends and family were all that mattered.

I, the booze drinking table dancing girl, have never went out on Black Wednesday.  I have been frequenting clubs and bars since the ripe age of 19 and have never even thought about going out on Black Wednesday.

Black Wednesday is a night of drunken debauchery which I am all about but included in this drunken debauchery is crowds of ignorant people which equals elbows to the head and spilled drinks on expensive clothes.

I dont do crowds of ignorant people.  I rarely do crowds of people. 

Dont get me wrong, I go out a lot and deal with crowds of people but never wait in line to get into a club, never wait in line to get a drink at a club, and never go to a club where I will be pushed and shoved by jackasses.

I don’t do that scene.

There is no club like the above available on Black Wednesday because every club in the city of Chicago is full of drunken assholes and any “hookup” you may have becomes obsolete.

L asked me to go out on Black Tuesday because originally our other bestest was working Thanksgiving and wouldnt be able to go out.

She knows that I despise Black Tuesday. I (gulp) agreed.

We had the conversation about 3 weeks ago and I have slowly tried to prepare myself.  I visted Walmart, frequented these stores with food called grocery stores, and all of my visits to the unemployment office have definitely covered the “ignorance” I would face.

When we discussed the whole Black Tuesday ordeal I also decided to agree on going out on NYE this year.  Crazy?  Yup… thats me.  I usually have a shindig at my house on NYE because again its one of those days that anxiety stricken K cannot handle. 

During our agreement, we both agreed we would go to a place near home which I hate on a regular basis let alone on a busy as day where I would wind up running into every single person I went to high school with and I went to 3 high schools, possibly ex boyfriends, and definitely ex friends.  We both thought it was the best idea because it was close and we would just cab home.  115 Bourbon Street here we come!  I say this with all sarcasm that I can produce.

We found out a week ago that Jax our other bestest would be off on Thanksgiving and would be painting the town red with us.

I then come home from a trip to the grocery store today.  Yes… I survived a grocery store 2 days before Thanksgiving without the assistance of a benzo or a fifth of vodka.  L and my brother are looking at Manor’s website which is downtown.

What??!? I did not agree to all that and hate to be blindsided.  I like to be prepared.  There is definitely a different dress code for me if I was to go to good ol’ 115 and if I was to go to a club downtown.  I am not tan.  My toes need painting.

This puts me in a rage and I get very snotty with L telling her I am not going out if thats where they decide to go.

She pretty much shrugs me off and continues to say she is going to call her brother and see what he wants to do.

Are you serious?  I am going out because everyone I thought wanted me to and now it has turned into a situation where my opinion doesnt even count?  Our other bestest Jax is now off Thanksgiving and would be joining us but that does not mean that my opinion means shit.

Jax calls me complaining that she doesnt want to do anything tomorrow let alone go downtown which baffles me because the idea seemed to come from her.  What?

In conclusion, I have no idea if tomorrow will be my 1st Black Friday out.

I would be quite happy sitting at home with a couple of bottles of Pinot Grigio and my bestest then possibly slashing the cheating bastard DILF’s tires.

Oh ya… did I forget to mention the DILF had a girlfriend when he decided to bang me in the back seat of his mercedes?  She contacted me through MySpace but that is a whole nother blog for a whole nother day.

Off to attend to more important things like my Arbor Mist that is chilling in my freezer.  I am hoping it doesnt look like this