O' Christmas Tree.

for those of you who don't know and pretend like you don't care, i HEART Christmas. Halloween? eh, could do without. Thanksgiving? stuffing is great and all, but you can only eat so much before you feel like you could possibly die. but Christmas? Christmas is the shit. not only is it our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ's birthday (i'm totally going to hell for saying that, and saying it in a facetious tone in my head probably didn't help the cause...), but it means

WAIT. while it is still fresh in my mind, i feel that i have to say that sitting with Nikki and Drew is probably one of my top 10 all time favorite things to do. we don't even have to be doing anything specific, just listening to the conversation alone is good enough for me. they are simply recockulous - and i love them. today just went something like this:

N: why don't you just come out of the closet and admit that you're gay?
D: i'm not gay, you're gay.
N: no, you're gay. remember? you told me that one time.
D: well... you're gayer.

anyway, what i was trying to say before i became sidetracked was that Christmas means Christmas trees. the Sunday after Thanksgiving Nikki and i set out to find the perfect tree. and don't worry, kids. we found it - at Target, the greatest store on earth. but they were a bit understaffed in the Garden Center at Target this past Sunday because we couldn't find anyone to help us actually move the tree. so what did we do? we picked it up and put it in our shopping cart. yes, we put a 7 foot tree in our shopping cart. it was amazing, but not even the best part of the whole excursion. the best part was that the kid who worked at Target (who i'm pretty sure i went to high school with, but i could be wrong) wasn't allowed to tie the tree to our car for liability reasons. so he basically gave us a piece of string and bid us good luck and farewell. let's just say going 20mph from MB to MDR because we were scared shitless that a giant tree would cause a giant accident was not fun. but alas, the tree made it home safe and sound and i love it. you will love it too once you see it. just wait. i dare you not to love it.

yeah, this post definitely lost it's steam. i had better things to say, i don't know what happened. so i guess i'll just end on this note: Drew offered to write me a personal check for my last mini can of Diet Coke. i guess he really is gay.

karma isn't always a bitch. sometimes it's just plain funny.

Nikki, Dave and i were walking to the car tonight in the freezing cold and Nikki says, "i wish i had my ear muffins." i almost died. i laughed so hard that i was no longer cold and yes, i may have made fun of her just a little (or a lot).

we get to the car and i go to step in, but i fall out. yes, i fell out of the car on the way in. don't ask how because i'm not really sure how it worked. one second i was standing, stepping into a vehicle and the next i was on the ground. but then she got to relentlessly laugh at me, so i guess we're even.

karaoke (n): A painful form of 'entertainment' only to be attempted when very, very, very drunk.

we've made it a habit to go sing karaoke at the Whaler on Sunday nights. it's a guaranteed good time. the same people are always there, and the same people are always ridiculously drunk. last night was an especially "colorful", for lack of better term, evening.

i will now dissect various Whaler patron's singing styles and/or overall vibes for your reading (and hopefully viewing) pleasure.

let's start with Gina. Gina actually has a decent voice but sometimes puts on the vibrato a bit too strong and starts to resemble a cracked out opera singer. her head constantly wobbles, which often leads me to wonder if she's the adult version of that one story where the girl has to wear a velvet ribbon around her neck otherwise her head falls off (don't roll your eyes like i'm crazy - i've emailed Katy to confirm the name of said story. i know she knows it...). it's like she's a bobble head doll, and some one is constantly flicking her head. actually, it's quite remarkable now that i think about it. i give Gina mad props. i think i'd have a headache in 30 seconds if i voluntarily moved my head that much...

Kirk on the other hand has a very stationary head, and prefers the eyes closed hand over one ear method. i couldn't tell if he was actually plugging his ear, so as to hear himself better, or if the hand was simply cupping the ear so as to give the illusion that he was trying to hear himself better. though between you, me and the wall, when you're in a crowded bar singing cheesy Sting songs and every one else is singing along with you do you really need to hear yourself all that better? can you really hear yourself all that better? i guess only Kirk knows...

then there's Rico. Rico is probably one of my all time favorites because he will sing any song regardless of how long or terrible it is. he also loves to sing along to EVERY song. if he's not singing with you during your song, you can almost bet that he's dancing. Rico has some sweet dance moves. i love it when Rico dances.

moving on to Sumiko. Sumiko is an older Japanese woman who looks incredibly good for her age. at the beginning of the night, she seems relatively normal. she sits at the bar, drinks her drinks, and sings her songs as they come up. but as the night progresses she becomes more and more ridiculous and her crazy switch somehow gets turned to the "On" position. last night she wildly motioned across the bar for me to come over and talk to her. so i did. she tells me i have an incredible voice and that i've inspired her to learn new songs. in fact, she'd like to learn the song i had sung earlier in the night, but she's afraid that she's too old to know what song it was. well kids, it was Wilson Phillips' "Hold On" (sung only at the request of Katie Driscoll) which according to my calculations came out circa 1990. that's 16 years ago. not exactly a new sensation... moral of the story is she kissed me on the cheek after i told her i had complete faith that she could not only learn, but master "Hold On".

there are oodles more, but now that i've begun i realize i could go on for days. don't worry, i won't go on for days. there is just one more story that i have to share, though.

it's the end of the night, Nikki has already gone home and Katie and i have said most of our goodbyes and head for the door. Katie gets trapped along the way and i get to the door only to realize that she's not behind me. i scream her name. nothing. i scream it again. still nothing. Will, our favorite bouncer in the entire world laughs at me. i walk back into the bar, see her, call her name and give her a pissy look - though the pissy look is completely in jest. but this creepy old man with a fro and clear sunglasses walks over to me and says "honey, all that matters is that she goes home with you at the end of the night. there will always be people trying to get her attention, but remember that she's going home with you." i mutter thanks, and am now confused. Katie finally comes and i tell her what he says at which point she busts out laughing. apparently that old creepy man thought we were dating, as earlier in the evening he told her that we make a lovely couple. last week i was Dave's girlfriend, this week i was Katie's. who's next? grab a number, get in line.

if this didn't make you want to join us on Sundays for good some ol' fashioned fun, there's only one other thing i can think of that would sell you. Dave doing Usher's "Nice and Slow". and if that didn't get you, then you're hopeless. hopeless i tell you.

sweet dreams are made of these

i'd like to take this opportunity to let every one know that i think i've finally found a way to harness my psychic abilities. contradictory statement, i know. if i were actually psychic i wouldn't think, i would know... what ever.

in the past week, i've had dreams (or premonitions, will you) that have been eerily similar to future real life occurrences. for instance, the other night i had a dream that our former roommate Jordan B Nice came over and tried to hug me, Nikki and Danielle. the next day, i went to the mailbox only to find our old house key and a handwritten note from Mr. Nice inside.

i then had another dream in which Nikki took a small container of diced onions out of the fridge and asked me why i hadn't eaten my onions yet, to which i told her they weren't mine - they were Dave's. this morning Dave was in the kitchen making breakfast and he couldn't find onions. Nikki had to dig through the fridge and then pulled a container of pre-diced onions out JUST like she did in my dream.

not impressed yet? fine. i'm not psychic. i've had a weird week full of coincidences.

but while we're on the subject of dreams, let's talk about Nikki's dream from the other night...

so she's lost in the airport - doesn't know what gate her flight is leaving from and is rushing to try and find out when she drops her phone. it breaks into (fixable) pieces, and she gathers all of them up with the exception of the battery, which fell just out of her reach. as she's heading over to get it, one of those little carts that they always drive around in runs over the battery so she's just lost the use of her cell phone. this is potentially a problem because she's flying to New York, where ironically her ex-bf Matt is supposed to pick her up, but she won't be able to call Matt when she gets there because she doesn't have a phone anymore. she gets panicky. she keeps walking through the airport where she randomly sees BJ Novak (Ryan from The Office). so she runs up to BJ and the conversation goes something like this:

N: i know i don't know you, and this is kind of weird but i broke my cell phone and i really need to call my mom to get my friend's number so that they can pick me up when i land. can i please use your phone?
BJ: NO. i don't know you, this is weird, and you can't use my phone.
N: i always knew you were a dick!

that was really my favorite part of the dream, but for posterity's sake the rest of it goes something like this: she finally finds a payphone and calls her mom and is crying while telling her what has been happening. while she's on the phone, she overhears on the loudspeaker that she's missed her flight and i don't really remember the rest. i just love that she saw BJ Novak in the airport and that he was an ass. i also think it's funny how The Office rules our lives and we no longer go anywhere on Thursday nights because we can't risk not seeing it. last night's episode was FANTASTIC for you poor saps that missed it. go spend $1.99 on iTunes and buy it. you won't regret it.

TGIF.

(disclaimer: i do not personally know, nor have i ever seen BJ Novak in person. i do not think he really is a dick, nor am i really calling him one in this entry of my blog)

myspace... no longer mine?

before you freak out and throw me on a pile of burning wood, calm down and read. no, people, i'm not saying that i'm over myspace. i still check it religiously and would be desperately lost without it. BUT in the recent weeks i have become more and more dissatisfied with the myspace world. maybe dissatisfied is the wrong word... bored? hence me starting this blog. and now, friends, at the urge of Ben Gibbard i've also created a MOG account.

what is MOG, you say? funny, because i'm not really sure. from what i gather it's a community similar to myspace but is purely made for music, musicians and music fans alike. no, you won't have to deal with unsolicited friend requests from horrible bands because there are no friend requests. it's really just a page that you create to share your likes (or dislikes for that matter) with whom ever chooses to stumble across you.

i'm still building and becoming acquainted with the whole idea, but check it before you wreck it. http://mog.com/yesiamaninja

go make your own. you know you want to. and i want to see what you're listening to...

things i would tell Danielle if she were here

1.) i hate it when people say "that is so you!" what is that even supposed to mean? how is it possible for an inanimate object to be "so me"? i remind you of a sweater? or a pair of sunglasses? "oh my god, those shoes are so you." some one told me that today. no thanks.

2.) it's colder than a mother fucker outside. on Monday it was ninety something degrees. today when i was having a beer on the boardwalk i thought my fingers were going to fall off due to their ungodly low temperature. frostbite - no one's friend.

3.) Lola the cat will not leave me alone. i want her to leave me alone. i miss my cat. i hate Lola the cat. Dave the dog is fine.

4.) it hurts behind my left eye again. i need you to squeeze that one part of my hand, which you say relieves the pain behind my eye, but really it just hurts, too, so i stop thinking about the pain behind my eye. as long as the ends justify the means...

5.) i miss you.

but i guess if Danielle were here and i was telling her these things number five would be irrelevant. oh well.

i've always favored blue over red...

i'm not one to discuss politics. my silence is not due to the fact that i am uninformed, or don't have an opinion; i simply believe that every one has the right to their own opinion. clearly not every one shares in that belief. left wing this, right wing that. crazy liberals, tight wad conservatives. political discussions often become heated and uncomfortable for all parties involved whether you are actively engaging or merely acting as a spectator in the conversation.

so i'll keep it simple and say i'm pleased overall on a national level.

you, yes you. you matter.

as you're probably already aware, tomorrow, November 7th, is election day in our fair country. regardless of where your political beliefs fall, please remember to vote.

how much wood could Abumchuck chuck if Abumchuck could chuck wood?

so last night me, Nix and D managed to stay awake late enough to mosey over to The Good Hurt and see Chad's band play. (they went on at 11:45pm, by the way. who the hell plays at 11:45pm on a Wednesday night?) i've been inside the joint for maybe all of thirty seconds when a large, yet friendly man approaches me. we'll call him Abumchuck (all you Weeds watchers should get it and now know exactly what he looks like). Abumchuck is very nice and offers to buy me a beer, but i've already paid for the one in my hand, and politely tell him, "maybe the next one." Nikki and i stand there and make small talk with him where we learn that he's been in LA for about a week, is staying on his friend's couch, is 31 and from Kentucky. i start to become uncomfortable when he tells me that i look eighteen and he likes that, so i leave Nikki for a brief moment and find Danielle. we giggle about Abumchuck and everything that he stands for but then i go back to Nikki because i feel bad for leaving her all by herself with this oddly jovial fellow. then things just start getting really weird. it becomes clear that Abumchuck has had one too many New Castles (although he prefers Bass on tap. he must have said that about eight hundred thousand times. got it. Bass on tap.) so we both duck out and find Chad who is playing pool.

on our way to the pool table Nikki proceeds to tell me how Abumchuck asked her if i was single. being the great friend that she is, she said yes. thanks, Nix. i'll remember that. i start to get more weirded out as she then tells me he said i was the "perfect height" which she also agreed with. the perfect height to what? stuff into a trunk?!! at this point i begin gulping my beer.

unfortunately for me, The Good Hurt isn't exactly bumping so Abumchuck has no problem spotting us playing pool. he pulls up a chair right next to me and tries to guess my astrological sign. he's apparently awful at guessing so i offer him the answer at which point he tries to tell me that i am nothing at all like a Capricorn (because he knows me so well...) Abumchuck has once again become too much.

i finish my beer. he offers to buy me another. i politely say "no thank you, i'm driving," even though i really do want another beer and am in fact not driving. most of you are probably telling me to just take the free beer, but truth be told i don't want to have to talk to this guy for another minute - another second, for that matter. he’s too creepy and annoying. i want it to be over. "please go away Abumchuck, please..." i say over and over in my head hoping that some how he'll subliminally get the message. but he's not getting the message. and then comes the icing on the cake. he puts his arm around me, pulls me awkwardly close and says "if i were going to the North Pole, i would definitely take you with me." what? what the fuck does that even mean? "thank you," is all i can manage to mutter. he still has his arm around me. he's so large i feel at any moment my life could be compromised if he so chose to squeeze me a bit tighter - Abumchuck could very well break me in two. i'm starting to feel panicky and some how manage to wriggle myself from his grip. i don't turn back to look at him as i run away.

in other exciting news, i just bit off all of my fingernails. not really sure why. some people call it a nervous habit. i'm not nervous for any reason at the current moment. it just seemed like a fun thing to do, i guess. more fun than work at least...