Category Archives: potpourri

sensory deprivation = over!

posted by:  audra

okay.  look, kids–i know this hasn’t been easy…for any of us.  i miss the weekly recounts of my life just as much as you do!  believe it!  and i have gotten scolded…many a time…for having this much fucking time on my hands & not blogging.  but! it’s all i can do to not sit in front of a screen all day, talking about myself.  it’s been a struggle not to do so, but here you go.  it’s all going to be purged…even old posts from weeks & weeks ago that were never posted!  exciting, right?!  and so, we begin….

august 20-something, 2009:

an elitist’s guide to sea-rattle:  dive bars, lamb & a bus stop

okay.  so.  i know, right?  you’ve been sitting around, waiting for the night to come, or whatever.  at least i have.  you want to know ALL about what the biscuits & i have been up to?  of course you do!  i should have probably made a little note saying ‘sigh…we will be on temporary blog sabbatical for a bit…’ so that y’all didn’t throw a hissy.  but i didn’t.  and now that hissy has come & you’re sick of checking for new posts.  i know my friends well, so i know it’s happened…

disclaimer:  this is neither charming nor witty….like you’re used to.  continue if you wish…

so kids…sam & i had THE most lovely vacay in seattle EVER.  seriously.  like, better than new orleans, london, paris & the coast of italy combined.  for realsies.  believe it.  in seattle, of all places!  we met THE most incredible people EVER.  ever.  and then we came home & then i come into work the next day to find out that i have been fired.  i’ve realized since that day that i’m much too pretty to work there, so it’s for the better.  and anyway, who wants to hear about that?!  not you.  so….

the first night we were in seattle, we stumbled upon this bar i’d found on yelp called the nitelite.  please, please go here iffn’ you’re in the mood for a cranky bar-maid, divey slabtown-esque setting& craving something called taco fries.  de-fucking-licious.  it’s this ridiculously gross looking pile of fries with taco meat, jalapeños, sour cream, tomatoes & cheese.  jesus christ.  i literally was so sick & feeling awful that i was running a fever when we arrived last-last-last thursday night, & these babies totally cured me.  that, and some beer.  these fucking d & d idiots sat next to US (of course), so we had the honor of listening to the different methods & such of dungeons & dragons.  they’re quite lucky i wasn’t feeling well, was getting drunk & had the taco fries on my side.  in fact, the bartender repeatedly asked them if they were ‘actually going to order’ and if not, then to ‘get out of her establishment’.  awesome.  even she knew they were idiots.

the next day was the pinnacle of our trip.  we have the most uh-mazing friends ever, and are SO lucky to have them… friday was the 2-year anniversary of our dear, dear friend seth’s death.  our lovely friends k & a hosted an amazing soiree with all of seth’s close friends, and i tell you what, it was such an honor to be at a gatheringsurrounded  by his nearest & dearest, and to be included in something like that.   there were some incredible experiences surrounding all of that, including getting a town car escort sorta by accident.  anyway, we love you guys to death & miss you terribly already! 

saturday after le party, we slept until 2 or 3-ish.  sam & i–in typical cuntington fashion—got coffee & ended up hoofing it to the funhouse, a rad little venue/bar where some of our very close pdxoxo bands play often.  perhaps you should know that at this point, i am NOT showered, NOT made-up, NOT wearing clean clothes, nor are my teeth or hair brushed.  believe it.  i’m wearing 2 dirty black tank tops, dirty jeans, a leopard headscarf, huge sunglasses & converse.  i know, right?!  see, if you think i never go out in public undone, you’re right.  but maybe in a foreign city i might.  this, or course, is when we run into mutual friends of friends.  and also drink breakfast bloodies…

…because this lovely little venue, and lovely it is…does not serve food.  real food, anyway.  the waitress stated that they ‘have a microwave’ and ‘unless you want a hungryman frozen dinner, you’re better off next door.’   so we drank our breaky drinks & walked to the best bar ever, the 5 point café.  just hearing someone else say ‘hungryman’ is embarrassing enough. 

kids, you don’t know what you’re missing until you’vebeen to the 5 point.  incredible people, super-laid-back, delicious diner food, and a fucking rad juke box.  we had gone to this place on friday afternoon prior to the seth-party & lurrrrved  it.  it felt like home; i never wanted to leave.   it’s not touristy in the least, so you’ll meet the bestest locals EVER.  the sexy bartenders are nice if you’re nice to them.  the bathrooms are clean, but one drunky away from being gross, which is what i like.  the clubhouse is perfectly mayonaissed & baconed.  the omelets are fluffy & cheesy.  you’ll likely hear the cult, mother love bone & mudhoney.  if the regulars like you, they may give you half of their peanut butter cup—straight from the freezer.  and then hug you on your way out the door.  and if you’re lucky, their number & email address.   this place has been around since 1929, or whatever, for obvious reasons.   heart, heart!  i fucking love the 5 point.  thank you, babies!

le saturday afternoon after our booze breakfast, sam & i went back to the hotel max where we were residing, to you know, shower & such.  maybe sober up a spot, too.  we then made our way to a cab to explore capitol hill.  love, love, love, you guys!  it’s sooo quiet & rad up there, i nearly passed out.  after spending waaay too much time & money in sonic boom records, i asked this super-hip & attractive gentleman passing by which bar he would recommend.  he rattled off several places, so we sort of walked around peering in doors to investigate.  nothing really spoke to us until we came upon smith, the last place he’d mentioned.  i could live in smith.  really.  it’s dark, minimalistic, but cozy.  taxidermied heads of various animals & birds mounted tastefully(!) on the walls next to abstract portraits of important americana figures past.  the bathrooms are super dark, with the stalls made out of very old doors.  the sink is mounted in an old sideboard.  delicious.  the servers are really fucking hot, really fucking nice, and the jukebox contains sleater-kinney, heliosequence & the jam.  we ordered some marrow bones with bruschetta ($9) to start.  sam had a burger for around $12 (& mentioned it was possibly better than the slow burger?!), and i had a steak & potatoes with duck fat for 14 bucks.  ridiculously underpriced, fantastic atmosphere, rad servers……sigh!   i’m kicking myself that we didn’t take hardly ANY pictures the entire trip…especially of the food—and the hot people we met.  anyway, at smith we drank several really amazing local beers…which embarrassingly enough, i have no idea what they were…but then went on a quest to find another bar we’d been dying to visit:  the redwood. 

it took asking 3 different people on the street (after walking around drunk & aimlessly by ourselves) to find it.  but when we did, it was like a glowing oracle.  i’d been DYING to come here, you guys.  i read about this thing, this ‘seattle dog’, which is a hot dog smothered with cream cheese.  i nearly had a coronary.  the redwood is supposed to haveit….but upon sitting at the bar, it was nowhere in sight.  we sat awhile & noticed a cute little couple sit next to us.  but i was ready to leave.  the bartender wasn’t very good, my creamy hot dog wasn’t present & i was tired.  my breakfast bloodies were really starting to kick in.  the music was terrible too.  i think we were there long enough to hear the allman brothers greatest hits record twice.  gross.  i’m pretty sure we put some money in the juke at this point…the only song i remember playing was ‘transmission’…

and thanks to ian curtis, it lead us to make instant bffs with the cute couple sitting at the bar next to us.  we began bantering back & forth about music, & ended up doing a bit of bar-hopping with them for the rest of the evening.  i felt a bit out of sorts, what with my frump-wear:  black top, cuffed skinny jeans & converse…but somehow my sparkling personality was still able to shine through.  thanks baby jesus!  the four of us went to the buck  for a few drinks; cute place, crowded, small, nice servers…and three words:  wasabi grilled cheese.  whilst i didn’t have the time to make gastronomic love to my grilled cheese, it was still enough to make me wanna go back.   and so, after we passed the buck, we managed to find this fabulous little bar called the bus stop. 

the bus stop = hot staff, amazing dj (book of love + old new order!), small, intimate classy bar posing as a dive.  it’s the bartender’s bar.  the owner is beautiful, super-nice & he’ll be disgustingly attentive–even if he’s busy.  believe it.  you’ll love it, babies!  promise!  and be sure to stop in the cute little vintage store next door…there just might be a glamorous tranny begging you to come in & take a look at a few oddities.  just sayin…

sunday i believe we slept in…again…and perhaps went for a little walk around.  i think it was hot?   i don’t really remember.  but i do remember meeting our lovely, lovely friend bianca for sushi at the red fin at the hotel max.  yours truly ordered something called the yummy roll; skrimp tempura with cream cheese (!) wrapped up with some sort of fluorescent orange roe on top…salmon roe maybe?  yummy indeed.  b had the las vegas roll, and sam something neither of us remember… but i believe it too had cream cheese & definitely eel.   lovely…but not the greatest place ever.  the alcoholic in me ordered a tasteful lychee martini, but of course followed that up with a vodka tonic after the sushi.  delicious.  we then talked bianca into going back to the bus stop with us; it happened to be karaoke night.   god bless that bar.  i swear on chanel i would have done something, but those fucks were gooood  in there.  intimidatingly good.  had it been a bar with dirty old men & ladies lubed up with jean nate, i totally would have pulled off my best sophie b. hawkins, but for god’s sake….

monday = DEPECHE MODE DAY.  yes, kids– the whole day.  except for the break we took for dinner at ten mercer with our friends g-mae, adrian & new friend tucker.  i highly recommend the rack of lammy.  the place was cool, but our server was kinda cunty…like rushing us a bit too much.  it’s busy.  so?   anyway, sam had the crab ravioli, which was lovely….there’s also a succulent duck breast on the menu.  i love breasts AND ducks.  damn. 

while the lamb was lovely, it caused us to miss the ENTIRE peter, bjorn & john set.  believe it!  wellsies….not the lamb alone, but maybe primping & preening…and sleeping in too late.  and what’s with key arena not allowing booze INTO the shows?!  you have to chug your drinks real quick-like & haul ass back to your seat?   whatevs.  not a fan.   but our seats on the floor were uh-maze-ing & dépêche totally would have ripped my knickers to shreds, had i been wearing them.   one of the best.  shows.  ever.  ever!  including bowie!  and peej!  and i know we say that all the time, but totally really mean it this time!  here’s a little treat from what you missed:

thank god i was there for you, right?!  yes, yes…the audio & such is bad, but i didn’t post it.  i just relay the festivities. 

fuck, this is getting long…sorry loves.  see?   this is what i get for being afraid of falling into the internets-coma & avoiding the computer at all times while i’m newly unemployed.  i just do my nails & chain-smoke instead.  seems healthier somehow.  but anyway….

so, before heading back to the room directly after the show, we dragged our friends back to the five point café once again.  man, i can’t say enough how much i love that place.  this was the third trip to the five point & first time i saw it with standing room-only….  which normally i would throw a hissy fit & leave…but with this place, was happy.  people SHOULD be coming here.  it SHOULD be packed on a monday night at 11.  …or not.  if i lived in seattle, i’d probably be real cunty towards the assholes that were taking up space in OUR bar.  but, whatever.  i got my omelet & some beer; sam got some fried mac & cheese wedges.  we closed the night with the amazing crystal, and then a night-capping serenade with this homeless, but surprisingly well dressed man named pops.  he said to look him up on youtube…and fucking hell, he was  good…but sadly, i didn’t find him.  sigh!

the end was sad.  real sad, for realsies!  but fortunately, we were lucky enough to have one night with our lovely, cute couple we had met at the redwood, in pdxoxo the next week.  we love & miss you kittens!  the photobooth at east end will never be the same…

….and we are fucking LAME we have like, zero photos of our own.  we seriously packed our camera everywhere, too.  i suppose i should just believe that we were having too much fun to take pictures.  and i think that we were. 

loves.

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sigh…

i know, babies…i know.  we’ll be back soon-ish with all sorts of hot gossip for you.  maybe even tonight!  maybe…  but in the meantime, you should read all the blogs we heart real hard!  do it!  they are on our blogroll because they’re rad & you will love them!  heart!

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we love you: installment two

posted by:  audra

i’ve been looking at the search history used to find our blog once again, & think it’s time for another one of these…some are just too awesome not to share!  here are some of my favorites since last march:

  • 1950’s fuck my mom (awesome.)
  • “fever ray” “creepy song”
  • “sitting shoes”
  • im sorry wrist cut suicide
  • bloody wrist
  • deep cut wrist (jesus, you guys!)
  • anorexic bondage
  • tall fuck (really…?)
  • i’m on a boat
  • “flat chested” “training bra”
  • “fishnets over my head”
  • katey segal feet
  • katey sagal beauty
  • peggy bundy
  • bastards of young (the band or the song?  maybe both?  sigh.  the mind quails.)
  • menswear review (good work…as you should be reviewing menswear!)
  • sweet jane blackboots & blackhearts  (and sometimes when you blog about bands, they find your blog and then they blog about you blogging about them!!  fucking rad!)

and my personal favorite…

wait for it…

ready…?

  • lucky guy fucking audra

and of course it’s about me!

anyway, this all tells me that the strangers we’re attracting are suicidal masochists with a penchant for katey sagal.  and i’m perfectly okay with that.

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everything you ever wanted to know

posted by:  audra

this was totally not my idea.  i was poking around on one of my favorite girl’s blog & happened upon this gentleman’s blog.  on the latest post, he was talking about the facebook quiz where you write up questions about yourself & then your friends look like assholes because they don’t know a single thing about you.  now, i love talking about myself & creating audra trivia, so of course i jumped on this…

…and my friends did horribly. 

granted, the questions were a little tricky…but i’m certainly not going to ask, what’s my favorite color? for fuck’s sake!  jesus christ!  get it together, you guys!  anyway, this guy’s blog, he posted his fb questions with the answers as well as the story behind them…because his friends did so horribly as well.  brilliant!

who wants to know more about me!?  you!  you do!  okay.  get comfortable, take your pants off, get some lube handy…whatever makes you content.  maybe if you’re really hurting for something to do, you can do the quiz as you read?!  but of course, don’t skip ahead to the answers if you plan on doing that.  anyway.  let’s go!

1.  if i had to pick just one record to listen to for the rest of my life…

a)  funeral – arcade fire

b)  to bring you my love – pj harvey

c)  horses – patti smith

d)  xo – elliott smith

e)  deep cuts – the knife

answer:  b.  to bring you my love. don’t fret; this was even difficult for me to decide on.  everyone who took my quiz assumed it would be horses. every single person.  and while i adore the patster to pieces, to bring you my love, as a whole, is a much more perfect record.  it has everything; stripped down folksy guitar, juicy bass, distortion, shrill screaming, whistle blowing, quiet lusty bits…sigh!

2.  underpinning of choice…

a)  thong panties

b)  crotchless panties

c)  garter belt

d)  full-back cotton briefs

e) none.

answer:  e.  obvs!  thank god no one had me pegged for a cotton-brief gal.  gross!  i have always enjoyed fancy panties…even when i was a little girl, i would not tolerate the gross cottony ones, with the fiercely uncomfortable waistband.   they had to be satiny, lacy, what have you.  and whilst i have a stockpile of the snatchless variety, those are novelties.  same with the garter belts.  several years ago, i started leaving them at home when we’d go out to shows & such.  sort of like a dirty little secret.  so exciting.  then i realized that going without is just so much better!  and easier!  all the time!  you wouldn’t believe how fast i am in the loo when we’re out at bars.  people are amazed.  really!  it saves a step!

3.  when i get home, i put on…

a)  cropped yoga pants & a fleece

b)  fitted black tee & jeans

c)  juicy couture tracksuit

d)  vintage chemise

e)  a ratty ‘can’t be seen in public’ dress

answer:  a.  surprised?  maybe a little?  the vintage chemise was a popular choice amongst my friends…which does happen occasionally.  mostly that’s only for sleepwear though.  a little black top & jeans only happens occasionally too, as with the ratty dress…but almost daily, i will come home & pull on one of two pairs of stretchy black yoga pants & my half-zip fleece.  unlikely, i know.  it’s comfortable…and typically i’m not an advocate for comfort, but i know that in the evenings i can sit in my chaise with my knees up  & not rip the seams out of something like a delicate chemise.

4.  once, whilst entertaining dinner guests at home, i…

a)  burnt a raspberry tart

b)  accidentally served raw chicken

c)  singed my lashes while caramelizing creme brulee

d)  cut the tip of my finger off

e)  slipped, then dropped & shattered a bottle of wine

answer:  d.  oh, the horror…the horror!  here i was, preparing citrus cream pasta with some sauteed mushrooms on the side.  the mushrooms are amazing.  you first caramelize them in olive oil, then add some thyme & garlic, and deglaze the pan with white wine.  so easy, & somewhat impressive.   anyway, sam & i had two friends over for dinner, and i like to do the prep work in the kitchen while they converse at the adjacent dining table  (i should also mention i like very low-lighting so everyone looks nice.  even in the kitchen–at least when guests are over). sooo, i’m furiously fine-chopping the thyme at the counter when i felt a little nick on my left index finger.  it wasn’t painful…i had just gotten a brand new super-sharp santoku knife, & apparently it’s so sharp you can’t even feel it slicing through your fingertip.  i didn’t think much of it & resumed chopping.  then i realized i was bleeding everywhere & quickly excused myself to the loo for investigation before anyone could notice i’d made a drunken oopsie.  i was missing a good portion of fingertip, including part of the nail.  totally panicked, i whispered for sam to come help me stop the bleeding…and we’re out of bandaids.  all we have is bactine & paper towels.  awesome.  sam decides to call in our female friend from the dining room, who was a plastic surgeon’s assistant at that time.  we’ll call her dr. s.  she asked where our first aid kit was.  first aid kit…?  really?  we did the best we could, what with the all the blood drunky was letting flow…then sam & dr. s went to the store for gauze, medical tape & such.  dr. s said that she would’ve taken me to urgent care for stitches…if there was anything to stitch back together.  so, here i am alone, making awkward conversation & nervous laughter with dr. s’s husband.  they finally return — with medical supplies, flowers & the new vanity fair.  with tom ford on the cover.  bless them.  once cleaned up & properly bandaged, i returned to the kitchen to clean up a bit & noticed a hunk of my flesh still clinging to the blade.  of course, i quickly (and discretely) snatched up this new prized possession, & wrapped it in saran wrap for later viewing.  we ended up dining on the dessert that i’d prepared earlier in the day & the night ended not-surprisingly early.  that shit bled for a fucking week.   the moral:  even if it makes everyone look like hideous beasts, use the overhead lighting in your kitchen whist in possession of sharp, pointy things.  and try not to get drunk before doing so, too.

5.  typically, my favorite films are in this genre…

a)  indie

b)  b-movie

c)  spaghetti western

d)  foreign

e)  horror

answer:  e.  horror.  obviously.  i’ll spare you the explanation since that last one ran on a bit long.  whoopsies.

6.  of these pet peeves, i hate this the most…

a)  gross eaters

b)  singing along at concerts

c)  throat clearing

d)  sneezing

e)  girls who end every sentence with a question mark?

answer:  a.  gross eaters are my worst pet peeve ever.  so. fucking. sick.  i really can’t handle it…a stray crumb on the lip, pepper in the teeth, the chewing sounds, swallowing sounds…crunching?!  that’s the worst!  and plate scraping….shudder.  and i’ve also decided that more than i hate singing along at concerts, i hatehatehate the whoos, ows & yips emitted from the fucking retards at shows.  god, i hate it so much.  the other night at pj harvey, there were so many of those.  especially in the quiet parts of songs.  one more “yeeeeah polly!  thanks for coming!!  owwww!” and i would have fucking lost it!  you go to see an artist, you go & keep your god damn mouth shut!  even if you have to eat something to keep you quiet.  just don’t eat it around me.

7.  when i’m old, i want to be like…

a)  lauren bacall

b)  betsey johnson

c)  ellen burstyn

d)  vivienne westwood

e)  anjelica huston

answer:  e.  this was a tough one apparently.  i thought it’d be easy for you?  come on you guys, the black hair?  bangs?  forever wearing black articles of clothing?  red lippy?  please.  i’ve been obsessed with anjelica huston for as long as i can remember.  she’s just so…delicious.

8.  my fetish fantasy is…

a)  bondage

b)  trip to a hot gynecologist

c)  gas station attendant

d)  sex with my brother…if i had one

e)  all of the above

answer:  e.  indeed.  and don’t hate, for god’s sake…sam gives me enough shit about the gas station thing.  i’m not sure what it is exactly…the little uniform shirt smudged with motor oil?  the act of putting the phallic pump that oozes into my empty gas tank?  maybe the gas fumes cloud my judgment & these guys are all total losery trolls?   that can’t be it.  and the incest thing is probably because i’m an only child & i had a fairly normal childhood.  it’s exotic.  like the dreamers. and house of yes.  delicious.

9.  my favorite guilty-pleasure movie is…

a)  13 going on 30

b)  just like heaven

c)  the sisterhood of the traveling pants

d)  what a girl wants

e)  freaky friday

answer:  a.   most of you should know this by now…come on, you guys.  13 going on the 30 sounds retarded, but it really is quite good.  and for the record, i have never seen what a girl wants.  at least in its entirety.  and just like heaven was like, the worst.  movie.  ever.  not to mention complete with a dreadful cover the cure’s song of the same name.  just awful.

10.  i always, ALWAYS shower this many times a day…

a)  once

b)  twice

c)  three times

d)  four time

e)  i don’t shower

answer:  b.  twice.  always.  every day.  even if i don’t take my first shower until 4 in the afternoon, i must shower again before even breathing on the sheets.  obviously i shower before getting ready each day; i’ve never understood people that can just pull on some clothes & go.  it sickens me.  and then when i go to bed at night, i can’t even fathom putting on my satin unmenionables without being freshly shaven & moisturized.  i just can’t.  it’s too icky.

11.  film i have seen over 20 times & never get sick of…

a)  reality bites

b)  pretty in pink

c)  poltergeist

d)  the shining

e)  beautiful girls

answer:  b.  oh, pretty in pink!  it’s very likely that i’ve seen all of these over twenty times, but i’ve probably shut them off halfway through after the 9th or 10th time.  i can always watch pink all the way through & it always sounds good.  but so does the shining…it’s just so long.

and there you have it!  don’t you feel way less stupid now?!

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if this isn’t foreshadowing, i just don’t know what is…

posted by:  audra

jesus, you guys!  so, during last night’s “wild” thunderstorm, sam & i drank beer and watched the late-breaking news describing the whole weather event as it unfolded.  so much drama.  including, but not limited to, a boy from la pine who was struck by lightning.  i’ll spare you the details, but if you’re real curious you can read the whole bit here.

then it happened:  they showed a school photograph of the boy.  i choked on my lager & my eyes welled up with tears from laughing so hard:

he has fucking lightning bolts on his shirt!

did anyone else notice this and/or think it was as hilarious as i?

i know, right!?  hysterical.  i should be careful what i say though — two of my family members have been struck by lightning; one of them twice.  curious.  when lightning strikes, i guess…

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time sensitive material

posted by:  audra

every fucking night when i’m about to pop some roofies & slip on my satin leopard print, i ask myself, ‘audra, why is it you waste so much time, you wasteful time-waster?  and how come you never, ever get anything accomplished, ever?!’ this has really been bothering me lately.  i never seem to have the “time” to clean the house, get more than one load of laundry done — let alone put said laundry away after it’s clean — and definitely never have time to do any sort of fat-burning activity.

…even though i used to come home & do so every night, as well as tidy up a spot, and manage to get to bed before midnight.

…and let it be noted that no, indeed, i have not resorted to drinking more.

i think it’s my new morning routine that has set me up for failure…?  when i had more of this luxury called time, i would get up promptly at 5 o’clock-ish on a weekday, shower, go about my business & actually make it to work on time without a trace of panic.  now, my alarm goes off at 5:20.  i turn it off & wait for sam to shower first & wait for him to wake me.  he does so sometimes at 5:20, if i’ve already turned the alarm off…then again at 5:30.  lately, it’s been the third (sometimes fourth) attempt at 5:40 (or 5:50) that gets me up…and it’s been a lethargic, dirty-housed downward spiral since.  makes sense, right?

i’m now on a personal mish to make more time for myself, so i can actually keep my household up, perhaps cook something during the week(!), and still have plenty of gooey makeout time with the television, a wine bottle & my chaise.

alright.  so.  get your fancy panties on!  better yet – take them off!  get comfortable.  it’s time for a day in the life of yours truly!  and just so we’re clear, of course, this is weekday stuff only.  but i shouldn’t have to tell you that.  in fact, we’ll just use today as an example for funsies.  indeed, what did i do today?  where does all my time go?  i’m dying to know…you are too…

  • 5:40 am:  currently my typical wake-time, but 20 minutes behind what’s ideal for my morning routine.
  • 5:41 am:  get in shower immediately.  since i’ve saved time by shaving the night before, i can be out in less than 10 minutes.  i’ve also decided to only shampoo my hair once a day, so i’ve shaved a couple of minutes off there, too.  score.  i do however, at least condition my hair in the morning.
  • 5:50 am:  smelling like peppermint, i’m out in 9 minutes.  that’s good, right?  normally i could probably do 5 minutes, but today was a struggle.
  • 5:51 am:  detangle hair, wrap in towel.  moisturize everything…face first, then extremities & special girl bits.
  • 5:55 am:  apply anti-persperant/deodorant.
  • 6:00 am:  jesus!  i’m starting to see where my time is going in the morning…it takes 10 minutes to put on moisturizer?!
  • 6:01 am:  start makeup ritual.  eyebrows always first.  then eye makeup.  base, shadow, liner, more shadow, then glue on lashes.
  • 6:15 am:  while lash glue sets, i blowdry my hair after applying product.
  • 6:20 am:  get coffee & prepare a lovely english muffin for breaky.
  • 6:30 am:  sit outside with coffee & ciggie.
  • 6:37 am:  check email & such.
  • 6:45 am:  heat up flat irons & continue the getting ready process — apply mascara, some foundation.
  • 6:50 am:  turn the dryer on from the night before if clothes need the wrinkles taken out of them.
  • 6:55 am:  straighten my hair.  it really only takes about 10 minutes from start to finish, but for some reason it always takes me longer when i’m in a hurry.  of course.
  • 7:15 am:  complete makeup — finishing powder, lippy, what-have-you.
  • 7:25 am:  attempt to get dressed.  even if i have laid out everything the night before, it never fails; i stuggle finding fishnets or my bra.  every.  time.
  • 7:31 am:  leave the house.
  • 8:10 am:  arrive at workplace.  there was traffic, so i was late.  beautiful.  one would think that 29 minutes is more than adequate time to drive 12 miles.
  • 5:46 pm:  arrive at le cuntington manor.  traffic was a fucking mess & i’ll keep quiet my bitching about bad driver stereotypes.
  • 5:47 pm:  take off my shiny manolos & notice that the heels need repairing already.  of course.
  • 5:47 pm:  bitch about traffic.  bitch about how hot it is.  bitch about the humidity.
  • 5:47 pm:  note how i’m sweating like a fat girl writing her first love letter.
  • 5:48 pm:  open beer.
  • 5:49 pm:  smoke outside with the mr.
  • 6:00 pm:  do a quick inventory & determine that we, in fact, do not need to go to the store like i’d originally planned.  yes!
  • 6:01 pm:  notice that i’m star-ving & perhaps should have a snack?  maybe early dinner?  maybe not, because then i’ll just be starving at 10:00 & drunk & then drunk-snack?
  • 6:05 pm:  elect a snack of salami & a sharp white cheddar.
  • 6:06 pm:  change into a long black chemise i wore several years ago when i was bettie page for halloween.  it’s too hot for yoga pants.
  • 6:16 pm:  check email & update blog.
  • 6:25 pm:  look at the tele (family guy), consider changing channels & then notice my hands are dry.  perhaps i could use a fresh coat of polish, too…?
  • 6:26 pm:  see what sam’s doing.  ‘is that freddie mercury?’ i ask.  ‘it’s about queen.’ he replies.  ‘even better’ (sarcastically).  i exit the room.
  • 6:31 pm:  reenter kitchen.  put away cheese & salami.  consider doing a load of laundry, but determine it’s too stuffy to do so.
  • 6:32 pm:  consider picking out an outfit for tomorrow, but determine i’m too sick of what’s in my closet to do so.
  • 6:33 pm:  pick at imaginary things on my back & think about what interesting things i could possibly do tonight to make this blog more exciting.
  • 6:35 pm:  save draft, fix a v & t with exxxtra lime, and retreat to the veranda to have a fag.  and a cigarette, too.
  • 6:59 pm:  decide to wear my standard uniform tomorrow; a black skirt, black top & whatever heels aren’t tore up from the floor up.
  • 7:01 pm:  start washing machine…with, my specialty:  5 items or less…which is ridiculous & obviously the reason as to why i’m forever doing laundry.
  • 7:03 pm:  settle into my chaise with the queen documentary on the bio channel & my july issue of nylon.
  • 7:05 pm:  i didn’t last long…in fact, i never “settled in” at all.  the documentary was boring & sam was reading a book.
  • 7:06 pm:  working on this retarded time-wasting blog…
  • 8:07 pm:  i’m done.  clearly, my dawdling/blogging/procrastinating are the culprits.  and possibly getting up late & spending too much time getting ready.

time elapsed: approximately 15 hours, give or take.  you’re welcome.

you see what i do for you guys?!  sigh…  and now i’m missing the david bowie bio.  thanks a lot, assholes.

good night, babies.  i do love you.

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ocd, a bad attitude & mid-year resolutions

posted by:  audra

in an attempt to start june off with a better attitude, i’ve made a little listy-loo for myself of things to accomplish this month.  as an added bonus, i’ll be including some of the stupider things i’ve done in recent memory…because we all love to hear about others’ failures.  sort of like a mid-year resolution list.  and anyway, we hate it when our friends become successful, right?  it’s true.  morrissey doesn’t lie!

what?  whatever.  okay, here we go:

*i will start working out.  even though it’s hot & i hate sweating, i am getting fat girl arms and it’s terrible.  i have also developed a built-in plate holder on my midsection.  gross.  i know i say it all the time, but things are getting out of control.

*i will not pull over on the side of a dusty gravel road out in the middle of nowhere & urinate on my kate spade flats.  again.

*i should stop smoking in the car.

*i will not order any more fruity, sugar-rimmed bitch drinks at the bar, just because they’re different from an extra-clean ketel martini.  i’ll stick with the big girl drinks.  thanks, but no thanks.

*next time i play pinochle with the parents, i’ll wear elbow pads to avoid any unsightly blistering.

*whilst cleaning out the car, i’ll remember that i wadded up two semi-sharp cheese knives in a zip-loc & stuck them in the glove box.  when i remember this, i’ll surely be able to not hastily grab the baggie, compact it down with my knee, & pierce a hole through my jeans & knee…then cutting the shit out of my fingertip.  also, note to self:  keep band-aids & bactine in the car.

*i’ll get drunk by myself more often & watch pretty in pink on repeat for several hours.  i haven’t done this in so long that i feel like i’m losing myself!

*i will not stop telling you all ‘i told you so’ when you fuck up.  because i’m right, you know i’m right, i’m always right, and knew i was right from the start.  i always look out for your best interests…and anyway, who loves you more than any of your other loser friends?!  me!  i do!  i love you!

*i’ll start being more honest about not liking slumdog millionaire.  i keep saying, ‘oh, it was good…not that great…i liked it alright.’  but i really didn’t like it!  it was annoying.  it seemed long.  it was a stupid love story.  it made me feel gross.  god, i need a rape-shower just thinking about it.

*i’ll keep making fun of our neighbor with the ocd tendencies:  flipping the patio light on & off a certain number of times, flicking the locks on her sliding glass door & window repeatedly before retiring to bed for the evening, talking to herself…it’s ridiculous.  shit drives me mad.  that bitch is crazy & desperately needs some meds.

*we will blog more often.  for realsies.  just like in the beginning…remember?

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