Turkey, with a side of NyQuil

Pretty low-key Thanksgiving this year. Unusually low turn out. I was a little disappointed initially - I have this twisted side that just loves playing hostess - but it ended up being just right.

I usually have this sort of empty feeling after everyone goes home, back to their respective houses and families. I was really looking forward to this year because I had a boyfriend, someone who was living with me, so after everyone left he would still be here. My own little family.

Seeing as I no longer have said boyfriend, said family, I was a little apprehensive about tonight. In the end, I was actually pretty glad when everyone started packing up to leave. I enjoyed the silence, the peace, the aloneness. I curled up with cup of hot tea and a warm blanket and watched a few movies.

So, even though I still miss the boy and the shared companionship of being part of a couple, it was pretty nice in the end.

And now I'm going to drink a large amount of NyQuil and try desperately to stop coughing long enough to get some sleep. And pray I didn't get that bronchitis that Sarah has been moaning about for the past few days.

Good night, and happy Thanksgiving to you all.

Oh, everything.

So I dropped the ball on the NaBloPoMo. I realize this. Actually, I realized it after I woke up last Friday and noticed that I hadn't hit "publish" on the drunken post I had tried to make the night before. Nice. After that I got sick and didn't really go near my computer, or do much of anything at all, the rest of the weekend.

I have to say my posts were getting a little starved for material anyway. I mean, come-on. My life is only so interesting. But I've decided to press on. I'll try to finish out the rest of the month. To the best of my ability, anyway.

So I'm sick. And yet I can't sleep. This is the bane of my existence. Especially since all day at work I kept putting my head on my desk because I had to "rest my eyes". Yes, I have turned into my Grandfather. I mean, who's eyes really need to be rested anyway? If it's anything, it's my brain that needs the rest. Or my nose, from blowing it so much. But I digress.

So this weekend, The Boy (as I've so named the hot 20 year-old I've been on a few dates with) turns 21. I'm not sure how much further I want things to go with him - he's sweet but I'm not ready to be anyone's girlfriend right now, and I think that's what he's looking for. But I do know one thing: everyone should have a 21st birthday to remember. Plus I have a lot of friends who are dying to relive their 21st birthdays. So I've decided that since a lot of his friends aren't able to for one reason or another, I'm going to show him a kick-ass birthday.

You all should pray for his immortal soul. We may be old, but we know how to party. We may very well kill this boy. But at least he will have had a 21st birthday that he can tell everyone about for years to come -- just like the rest of us.

And now I'm going to try desperately to get some sleep.

Happy my Thursday to you

I am drunk. More tomorrow.

Leave the gun, bring the cannoli

Someone recently asked me what my favorite movie is. I answered immediately with The Godfather (Part I, of course). "That's really morbid, " he responded. Why? Because people die in it? I mean, just because a movie has people die in it doesn't necessarily make it morbid.

The original Godfather is one of the greatest movies of all times. Sure, people die in it - I mean it is a movie about the mafia, but it's really all about the mental transformation of Al Pacino's character, Michael Corleone. Watching his psychological turn around from the start of the movie to the finish is just amazing. It's so well written, directed and acted. You feel like you are literally watching his mind transform, piece by piece. It's amazing.

Seriously, if you haven't seen this movie you need to add it to your list.

Float On

Things I'm loving right now:
- Cotton Blossom lotion from Bath and Body Works
- homemade guacamole
- late night hot chocolate and good conversation
- tickets to the Piston's game on Friday
- party planning with my best friend
- BB King loud on my stereo
- the NaBloPoMo randomizer
- old photographs found while helping my mom clean her house
- realizing that dating sucks, but it can still be fun if I let it be

Argh

Oh, I forgot how much I hate dating.

I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

That is all.

Evolution at it's finest

What is it about guys doing manly things that is just so incredibly hot? Last night I got to watch my date change a flat tire and I have to tell you, it was the hottest thing I've seen in a long time. He kept saying, "No, go inside where it's warm. You don't need to stand out here and freeze with me." Very sweet, this guy.

But seriously, I was not cold. Not even a little bit. I was down-right warm, in fact. After he was done all I could think about was having those manly hands fix other things. Like, don't you need to change the oil or rebuild the car engine or maybe chop some wood? Anything.

I mean, maybe it's nature. As a woman I'm suppose to be attracted to the providers, the ones who can take care of me and protect me. I'm suppose to want to mate with those types. Well, maybe it's only a natural biological response, but I would let that boy provide for me any time he wants to.

I'll just be over here thinking about that.

Breaking up is hard to do

My Dad headed up north this morning to prepare for opening day of deer season which, in Michigan, is basically a national holiday. This year he will be hunting with the ex-boyfriend and his family. I was so looking forward to him being able to go up with them, but now that we broke up it's put a bit of a damper on the whole thing for me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm really glad that my Dad still felt comfortable enough to go and that Ken felt comfortable enough to still have him up. That just goes to show how much our families really get along. But it feels a little awkward to me now, like everyone up there will be thinking, "Wow, this guy's really great. Too bad his moronic daughter broke up with our son/grandson/nephew." It freaks me out a little bit.

In a lot of ways, losing the family of the boyfriend that you dump is one of the worst things about the breakup. It's like you're breaking up with them too, except that you don't get to have the 'It's not you, it's me' discussion.

And I really, really liked his family. They were the kind of people that I could really picture wanting to be around for the rest of my life. The kind of people that I actually wanted to become a family with. It's just kind of a bummer that it didn't work out that way.

Well, I hope my Dad has a good time, anyway. And brings back some delicious deer meet for me to enjoy. Cause, even though I could never kill them, I sure as hell can enjoy the delicious venison spoils from someone else.

Friday night conversations

Sarah: Hi! I had two margaritas with dinner!
Me: Excellent. Where did you go?
Sarah: ... Somewhere with margaritas.
Me: Yes, I would have guessed that.
Sarah: So, we're on our way to your house right now.
Me: Oh, well I think I have some catching up to do.
Sarah: Get to it!

... And now I'm off to drink copious amounts of Tequila. Hope you're having a good start to the weekend as well.

My chocolate heaven

Today I happened to be in Williams-Sonoma, browsing, ogling expensive cookware, when I came across their very own hot chocolate mix. Now I'm not necessarily a lover of everything chocolate, but there's nothing quite like a mug of steamy hot chocolate on a chilly late fall night. When I popped off the lid and realized that it was essentially a big tin of bittersweet chocolate shavings, I fell instantly in love.

Powdered chocolate mix?, it said to me. You thought that was good?, it mocked.

Well, people, have a look at this:


Powder is for pussies.

Tonight I came home, warmed a pot of milk on the stove, and slowly whisked in some of the beautiful brown curls of chocolate. It turned into this creamy, rich, dark chocolate almost-sauce. Then I poured it in my favorite mug and settled in to watch Gray's Anatomy.



I would not be lying if I told you it was the best mug of hot chocolate that I have ever had. Nor would I be lying if I told you that at more than one point I thought to myself, this is better than sex. I would not even be lying if I told you that those few precious moments - drinking that orgasm in a mug, watching beautiful men being all manly with scalpels and stuff - was the best "me" time I've spent in a long, long time.

How about a little sex talk to go with that beer

I just got home from a benefit for a friend of mine's cousin who recently developed CLL Leukemia. The poor guy, like many of us, has crap insurance which barely covers anything and is struggling to beat this horrible disease and yet still keep food in the fridge. So in honor (and to help) his struggle, we all got drunk and watched some stand-up comedy.

Hey, whatever I can do to help my fellow man.

We were sitting at a table near the front and the guy asks is anyone in the crowd married. My mom (of course) waves her hands. Um, hello, everyone knows that at a comedy show you do not under any circumstances draw attention to yourself. My Mom does not know, or even care about, rules such as these. So he asks her do you and your husband, you know, still ... *insert Billy Crystal patented fist pump into the air*

Everyone at the table laughs and points to me, like this whole discussion is so incredibly inappropriate due to the fact that her daughter is right here. Like, wow, how uncomfortable this must be for her. And then for the rest of the night everyone kept looking at my and doing the fist pump.

Thanks, Mom. I love that even though I'm 26, you can still find ways to embarrass me in public.

When it rains, it pours

Today was the day from hell. I had major work issues, I had to go to the voting booths in the pissing rain, and on top of that I'm missing Ken more than ever. Why does everything have to go so terribly wrong all at once?

I'm heading home to drink wine and smoke naughty cigarettes with Sarah.

Mrs. Robinson

So, yesterday was my Grandma's 90th birthday party. My Aunt planned a big open house and invited basically everyone that my Grandma has ever known her entire life. Then she had the whole family working like slaves for two days, making flower arrangements, decorating tables, hanging balloons and streamers and crape paper. It really did look nice in the end, and my Grandma didn't stop smiling the whole day.

We hired a caterer to bring in some appetizers and finger foods for the guests to eat. The food was excellent, but even better was the caterer's son - a delicious specimen of man-meat, complete with an apron. I don't know what it is about a guy who can cook. Maybe it's just me, but damn. Either way, everyone at the party was noticing him. Even my Grandma was like, "Mmm, I'll have a slice of him along with my cake."

I figured it would be pretty hard for him to hit on me at my family party, plus I had no idea if he was even available or not, so I decided that the ball was pretty much in my court. I have to say that it was pretty fun to flirt again, especially with the cute caterer, on the sly, at my family party. And it was even more fun to be victorious and have him hang around to help us clean up just so that he could ask for my number at the end of the day.

Ah, sweet victory.

My cousin Krista happened to overhear the exchange and we all started talking about how I got the cute caterer's number. "You know he's like 6 years younger than you, right?", my Mom said. "What are you talking about?!", I asked her. "Well, I heard his Mom tell someone that he graduated from high school in 2004."

Holy fuck.

So, apparently I'm into jail-bate these days. At least (I'm pretty sure) he's 21. Plus, I don't know if I mentioned this before, but he's freakin hot. And who cares if he graduated from high school two years after I graduated from college. And who cares that when I graduated from high school he was like 12.

Wait - 12? ... Dude.

Well, anyway, he was freakin hot.

This is your brain on tequila shots

At Costco this morning, I reach out to hand the cashier my money and in the process end up dropping all the coins on the counter.

Me: Sorry, it's been one of those days.
Him: Big party?
Me: Bachelorette party last night. It was pretty crazy. I didn't get much sleep.
Him: ... Gotcha

I think we're being all conspiratorial when it suddenly occurs to me that he's talking about the fact that I am in the process of paying for 2 birthday cakes and 5 boxes of cream puffs. And I'm wearing a skirt. And heels.

Me: Oh, and my Grandma's turning 90 today!
Him: Yeah. Okay. Gotcha. Have fun with that.

I am the smoothest girl ever.

An open letter

Dear Red Bull Energy Drink,

I don't think I tell you often enough, but I love you. You make nights out at the bar so much more interesting. It's like I'm drunk, but I just never get tired. What - it's 2 am already? No, it can't be! I want to keep dancing! I could dance all night, in fact! Maybe I'll just go home and dance in my living room all by myself, with no music, because who can sleep already?

Come to think of it, you make the work-day better, too. I've never been so productive! I can do the work of 10 of me. Maybe I'll clean my entire desk from top to bottom. And do the same for everyone in my office. I'll admit that it is hard to write anything when my hands are shaking like this, but the upside is totally worth it. I'm like a superhuman version of myself.

I'm sure my boss and co-workers love me better, too. The way I won't shut up. Or sit down. Or let anyone finish a presentation without interjecting every 5 seconds with my own brilliant insights. They love how spontaneous I can be. You sure do bring out that side of me.

Sometimes, late at night, when I can't sleep no matter what I try, and I've cleaned every room in my house, and I've begun pulling out strands of my own hair just to see if I can still feel anything, I think that you might be pure liquid evil.

But mostly, I just love you.

Thanks again,
Carolynne

NaBloPoMo

Why is it that as soon as I agreed to post every single day for an entire month, nothing seems to be worth posting about? Moreover, it seems that life in general has become rather boring.

Must work on that.

Feel This Book

I was at my Mom's house this evening, trying to help her sort through some clutter and get organized before she gets the house painted. I came across this book written by Ben Stiller and Janeane Garofalo back in 99 - an "essential guide to self-empowerment, spiritual supremacy, and sexual satisfaction". My Mom didn't even remember purchasing it. I'm guessing it was in one of those 25-cent bins at the back of the library or something.

I had to take it home with me.

Let me give you a few chapter titles from the Table of Contents:
Why Do I Hate You So Much?
Eight Dumbass Ways We Fuck Ourselves Up
Do You Even Deserve a Relationship?
Why Can't I Sleep Around and Still Love You?
How to Fake an Orgasm to Show Your Love
Maybe I'm So Psychologically Damaged That I Need Professional Help That a Book Won't Solve

The best part is that they don't even correspond to actual chapters in the book.

I can't wait to read it.

Ode to a Holiday Dedicated to the Pursuit of Sugar

I can't believe that it's November already. Where did 2006 go to? It doesn't feel so long ago that I was ringing in the New Year, and now it's about time to do that all over again.

Yesterday was Halloween, and although not many kids showed up at my door, I carved pumpkins and passed out candy and pretended I was twelve years old again. I baked pumpkin seeds and ate too much candy and laughed until my face hurt. And then I curled up on my couch with all the lights out to watch scary movies.

I miss being twelve.