Mission Debauchery!

Contrasting Life on Track is "Mission Debauchery". This program is pretty much me having a good time and doing bad things not found on the Life on Track list of activities. Mission Debauch. was in full effect two weeks ago when Emily, Lindsey, and Alicia were all in town together. Emily arrived first and had already registered in advance for the festivities of being bad. We hit the grocery store and had a cart full of cereal, beer, champagne, and trashy magazines. We then went to the ABC store. We had a good night: dinner with boys, a thunderstorm, and Emily decided to go ahead and squeeze a week's worth of bad behavior into one night. It was impressive.

The next day we hit Va Beach for our annual "Girls Day at the Beach". It was picturesque. We read magazines, ate at Wawa, and almost drowned a few times in the ocean. That night we ventured out with Blake, who can always have a good time. Emily managed to have a boy buy us drinks within about 45 seconds of walking into a bar, which I think is possibly a world record. Girl knows what she's doing.

Saturday we picked up Lindsey, saw "Superbad", and started prepping for the party. We had decided that the party was my Season Finale (involving many other characters, of course). I was a little nervous, never having thrown a "real" party before. The parties we had in college involved us making a boatload of vegan food, cakes that were disguised as things like litter boxes or flower pots, and taking about $50 of Polaroid pictures. (We were untamed back then, I swear it). I was also a little sad Mary was out of town for the party, because she brings a party wherever she goes. Despite this, we got the tiki torches going thanks to Eric, Emily made a special (dangerous) punch, and the Season Finale began.

Now we had anticipated many things for this Finale. Plane crashes, love triangles, unexplained pregnancies, transsexual outings, the works. And while there were some dramatic events for the main characters, the one everyone thought would have a crazy end to some storylines (me), in true Season Finale fashion, kind of ended the night with a let down. Like the dramatic moment where you think it's all going to come together, and the person is left standing in the doorway after the love interest has left, with her hair blowing in the wind and she starts to say something and it fades to black and you have to wait until next season. Yeah, it was like that. And I was there at 3am, sighing, in my party dress, scrubbing red wine off the walls.

Despite this, the party was a big hit. There ended up being and odd ratio of dudes to girls, but hey, you don't see me complaining about that. There was an all girl dance party, I got to see a lot of people I hadn't seen in a while, Matt brought a tiki torch in the house, there were some sweet party mix CDs made, and I got the highest concentration of BFFs together in a really long time. I had a blast. We did Mary Killmon proud. The next day we got up, cleaned up (somewhat), had brunch at 821, had a quick photo shoot at the top of the city, and went thrift shopping. Then we truly felt the weekend we had experienced and rushed back to bed. And then of course made it out for one last night on the town and dinner with boys.

It was an amazing few days. I never knew so much could happen in such a short amount of time. It's taken me a week and a full weekend of sleep, and infinite bottles of water to recover. I'm on vacation next week, and looking forward to it, but in a different way. I'd rather dance with Emily to "She's an Easy Lover" and drink some Andre out of the bottle. But honestly, who wouldn't?

Life on Track!

I've embarked on a program I call "Life on Track". The program consists of me, doing good things for myself and in general getting my life, (as you may have guessed) on track. I water the plants before work, use the Dustbuster, spend my Sundays cleaning, I make little lunches for myself, I try to be responsible with my money, and I try to go to the gym or do a home workout at least 3 days a week. Life on Track works pretty well when you are single with a lot of free time. It also feels good to have all the scraps in order. The program was enforced firmly once an alternate program ("Ginny Dates Boys (Which Causes Drama)") started getting too intense.

At any rate, I was hitting up the gym one day with Erin, and Shaun asked if we wanted to do some "circuit training" with her. I said sure, let's do it. Yeah, I have no idea what that means, but I'll do it. I want to be buff, why not? So, we did our obligatory cardio, and headed to the "circuit training". Hmm. This is where it started to go awry. Turns out "circuit training" really means exercise class called "Body Conditioning". First off, I haven't taken an exercise class since sophomore year of high school. And even then I just kind of wandered around trying to look like I was busy. But, we were all doing the class together, and we figured if it was awful we'd leave. We got in the gym and staked out a spot by the door, in what we thought was the back of the class. Oh, no. It was actually the front. Directly in front of the wall of mirrors. Our instructor came in an put on some intense techno music and told us to get basically one (or two) of every piece of equipment the modern gym has to offer from the supply room. Other than weights, I had never even seen most of these contraptions. We then began the class with some "light" aerobics, which was pretty amazing to witness, I'm sure. And since I was in the front, not only could everyone else see me attempting to make my body move in synch with the teacher's, I could also watch myself in the enormous mirrors. Awesome. We then proceeded to work every muscle in our bodies. The teacher came around and tried to help everyone out. After the first few moves she just stopped coming around to Erin and I. I think she knew it was more than she could handle in an hour.

The class ended with us pairing off and passing a nylon disk we held between our feet back and forth with our partners. Erin has some sort of orthopedic gym shoes she claims can't grip well. The class ran over a bit and briefly I thought I had actually died and was in my own hell. Shaun looked over and asked, "Are we still friends after this?". I was pretty out of breath at that point so I don't know if I answered. The whole thing was quite hilarious and probably an existing episode of "I Love Lucy" or something. I was sore for the next few days. Now it's back to the normal workout for me. Although I might consider a Yoga class soon. Unless it involves light aerobics.

I am not a negligent dog owner.

It's awful, I know. I've practically given up blogging. I've been on simultaneous missions I like to call "Mission Debauchery" and "Life on Track" (more to come on both, later). I've had some interesting occurences lately. The first involves me in my most natural environment, my home. I am a self-professed hermit and homebody, and I am really enjoying the "single girl who lives alone" lifestyle. To some people this might mean late nights and parties and boys, for me it means I come home and I can take off my pants if I want, and I can listen to some pop music, and there's no one here to stop me. Now occasionally Mary and I might do what we call a "Barge-in", which is more involved than a "Drive-by", in that this is where you actually literally "barge in" to someone's house and pay them a visit. We do this to the boys once in a while. They always look normal, act normal; like they are totally cool. If this happened to me, it would be a whole different story.

One night in particular, I got back from the gym, put on a truly heinous pair of boxer shorts, an equally awful rag of a tank top, and sat down in a sweaty heap on the couch to eat my dinner (which just happened to be the classic mac and cheese) and watch "Flight of the Concords". Then the doorbell rang. I froze. I crept to the door and through the peephole I saw a boy with a beard and glasses. Well, since that is essentially every boy I know, I panicked. I was in my natural state, not fit for other human interaction. I ran to get some pants and a bra at least, and then he was gone. I came to the conclusion it was the neighbor.

The next day, I had a note on my door from an anonymous neighbor. It read, "Dear, Neighbor. We're concerned about your dogs being out in the 103 degree heat!". I was too, obviously, since I don't have dogs. "Your dogs are running around! One almost got hit by a car! We put him back in your yard and gave him water, since it seems no one else will". Again, this concerned me as now there might be unidentified dogs in my yard at this time. I looked, and there were not. "If you don't want your dogs, here is the number for the SPCA. Let someone else who is able to care for them give them a home". Now I was just kind of insulted. I mean I don't have dogs, but if I did, I would treat them right. I made a guess as to which neighbors left the note, and left them a reply note, politely explaining I did not own a dog, but that if I saw this alleged rogue dog, I would turn it over to the proper authorities. Mary had seen what she said was a stray at the house on Monday, and she had it in the yard with her. And she had her 2 dogs at the house when she lived here, but they hadn't been in the yard in months. After I left the note, the doorbell rang again. It was another random neighbor. "Oh, hey, I've got your dog in my backyard", she said. Hmm. Did this dog have my picture on his collar? I explained it wasn't my dog and thought that was the end of it. One more random person rang my bell that night, after it was dark, and I didn't know who they were, so I didn't answer the door (hey, it's like screening a phone call). They wouldn't stop ringing the bell and I was freaked out. Someone probably told them I had their dog in my yard.

Eventually I guess my name was cleared in the neighborhood. And I never saw this dog. The experience has made me a little paranoid and I do wear most of my clothes while I'm enjoying my single girl (crazy cat lady) activities. But I don't like it.

june-bear.

Juneau has arrived. He's all white and 8 weeks old and weighs about 3 pounds. He and Turtle are now best friends. The house is a disaster. Pete is emotionally eating and has gained about 10 pounds. I am so much closer to being that crazy cat lady I'm destined to be.

i think i was in philly at some point.

I think around a month ago I went to visit Lindsey in Philly. A lot has happened since then, so it's kind of hazy. I do remember it being the hottest day of my life when I got there. And we drove around weeping in the heat. We got gelato. We talked for about 3 days straight. I tried to give Lindsey advice. She tried to make sense of boy drama in my life. We went to the orchestra, which was lovely. It rained and we got soaked. It was so hot I slept on top of all the covers in my underwear and it felt like camp. Only I never went to camp.

We drove around Philly and I fell in love with the city. I might relocate one day. There are boys on bikes everywhere. We had veggie cheese steaks. We went to the aquarium and the city market and got drinks and the natural history museum and WHY AM I NOT LIVING THERE NOW? It was a great trip. I felt like a 24 year old girl for a change.

lost conclusion.

As previously stated, my goal for this season of Lost was to determine who my real crush was on the show. I haven't come up with a definite answer. Poor Charlie is out of the running since he died. Unless he comes back as a zombie later on, which still eliminates him because I hate zombies. That leaves Jack and Desmond. Even though Jack can be a crybaby, I think I still truly love him. I still love him even when he is an alcoholic on prescription drugs in the future. He looks hot with a beard, no doubt. And Desmond. He is unreasonably attractive, and his little love story is so appealing. However, I still don't trust him 100%. I wouldn't kick him out of bed though. I guess I will settle with the fact that they are both my crushes. And I'll have 8 months to pine away for them while watching old episodes. I love celebrity crushes.

me vs. wild

This weekend I watched Man vs. Wild for the first time. Since Lost is over for the season, I need a new distraction. This is kind of like a more realistic Lost. Bear Grylls goes off into some remote location via helicopter and finds his way back to civilization. He is hot. He can kick your ass and you would probably like it. His chest is completely hairless. This is also hot. Sometimes he eats cute and/or gross animals and gets diarrhea from tainted water, (which is not so hot) but I choose to shrug this off. If I was stranded in the wilderness there is no question about it- I wouldn't survive more than 3 hours. I have no real life skills in that way. Bear Grylls would leave me to die out there. We're supposed to go camping soon. Am I slightly nervous? Yes. Will I probably give up and sleep in the car halfway through the first night? Hell yes. But I can make a sundial with a stick and a rock now thanks to Bear Grylls.

Andrew Bird.

I saw Andrew Bird at the 9:30 Club Sunday night. He told me he thought we should get married. I told him that was probably a good idea.

Muscle Car Update.

Saturday night my dad took me out for some BBQ. Then we looked at muscle cars. Also I checked on the skull and it's bleaching nicely.

summary of an adventure/disaster.

This is a story I've been meaning to tell. After a long day at work and a workout at the gym, I returned to my car to hear a voicemail from Mary saying she had locked her keys in the car at the park. Which closes at sunset. And we live in the Southside. I told her I was on my way, and headed over to the farthest possible edge of the park, where all sorts of people were "hanging out" (let's just say Mary was the only one there actually walking the dogs). Mary had woken Dave Wolfe up and convinced him to bring her a coat hanger. Since he always comes to our rescue, he did. Mary tried breaking into her car with that for quite a while, until I decided to call AAA. They said they'd be there in an hour. Daylight was quickly fading. Dave left us on the condition that we'd go sit in my car at the gate and wait for AAA. Surely, we thought, we would just tell the gatekeeper not to lock the gate. We then realized the gate was automatic and devised a plan (driving over the curb) in case it shut.

Meanwhile, we were both starving and I had to pee. Mary suggested I go use the "bath house" near the road, but I decided not to, since you're pretty much guaranteed to acquire an STD or bear an illegitimate child if you walk within 50 feet of that thing. It got darker and darker and still we waited. The weird little guy who chases people out of the park at dark (who Mary (not surprisingly) has had several run-ins with) came to get rid of us, and I tried to convince him to let us stay because surely AAA was on the way. A van pulled in and I shouted "AAA!". The man shook his head. No way the unmarked royal blue van with giant rims belonged to AAA. But it did. And with mere minutes to spare, the guy unlocked Mary's car and we all made it out just before the gate shut.

We went to Ukrops to celebrate and as we got back to the house at 9:30pm, Mary asked, "Who's that in our yard?". I looked and there was a woman lying on the steps in our yard, petting the dogs. A grown woman. In our yard. We circled the block twice hoping the freak would leave, because we were really tired at this point and did not want a weird confrontation. As we sat in the car starving, and virtually every kind of profanity possible came out of my mouth, the woman still stayed put. Finally we got out of the car and she came over to us and said she lived down the street and really liked animals. That's great. Seriously get the hell out of my yard. We live 2 blocks from the ghetto and you never take a right past my house for good reasons. That was all I could take for the night. I ate dinner, and tried to watch a prostitution sting on COPS with Mary, but my heart just wasn't in it. I went to bed and tried to forget about the weirdest turn of events in a while. But that's how things are on the Southside. Still, I don't care who you are. Get the hell out of my yard.

muscle cars.

I haven't blogged in a while. Things are busy at work at I don't enjoy coming home and using the computer. (Unless it is to listen to music and spy on people.) Instead, what I like to do at the end of the week is watch movies and get some aggression out. Recently I saw "Grindhouse", and I have decided that I would really like a muscle car. This probably seems odd if you know me, and don't worry, I still hate sports, but muscle cars are hot. I've always felt this way I think. I told my dad, and I don't think he could have been happier. (In the same day, he also told me I could leave the animal skull we found on the Shore, at his house to bleach in the sun. I am the child of his heart, truly.) A giant old boat of a car would be so awesome. I could cruise around and listen to rock music. That's about it I guess. Someone would have to teach me how to drive stick. Really, more so than me having a muscle car, would be to meet a dude with one. And the best case scenario still would be to meet a (hot) dude with one, who wasn't into cars. That is key, because liking cars is kind of up there with liking sports for me. Which is gross. However this is not to say that a guy could play football and dislike sports and still be cool with me. Sports are non-negotiable. The most sports I can handle would be a guy wearing soccer shorts. Or playing badminton. Because I like that. And bikes do not count as sports. Bikes are still ok. But a muscle car is just classic. I'm going to get my 8 tracks ready just in case. Or at least a classic rock mix tape. (Side A is for rocking and Side B is for making out.)

A day in my life.

I was going to Kroger yesterday, and as I changed clothes, and put on earrings and eyeshadow, I wondered. Do other people get this dressed up to go to the grocery store? If you shop at the Carytown Kroger, yes. Do other people also cross the river to get groceries when they have another grocery store basically a mile away? Again, yes. I started shopping at this Kroger after I realized I'm stuck with a choice between a crappy Food Lion and a Ukrops whose rules I just can't follow any more. The other motivating factor was that Matt told me it's where hot youngsters go to shop and perhaps meet (or at least see) other hot youngsters.

I tested it out and he was right. The place was crawling with cute boys. Sadly, I think everyone else figured out the secret because now everytime I go, it's like couple's night. But I'm ok with that. I can shop for one with the best of them. I don't think I'd ever meet anyone while buying groceries anyway. Who is going to walk up to the girl with a cart full of Vitamin Water, 4 boxes of old people cereal, a giant head of garlic, and a People magazine? Because that's what you get with me. Mary and I get into trouble at the grocery store when we're noticing the hot guys. Last time this dude's girlfriend really didn't look like she appreciated us checking out her boyfriend. And I kind of learned my lesson the time I saw a really tall, scruffy guy. As I got next to his cart, I saw he had a baby in it. And I fled.

So, at this point I go there because I like a better variety of groceries and adult beverages to go with my cereal. But I'll still try to look my best, because you just never know. Vitamin Water might be on sale 10 for $10 and that is cause for celebration.

A 24 Year Old Martin.

Lindsey Martin turns 24 today. My partner in crime 3 states away. She shares her birthday with Albert Einstein and Pi (3.14) day. I'm glad she lives in Philly now and not Vermont. It's warmer and much closer. I love Lindsey because:

• she really appreciates the song "white lines"
• i'll never forget her dancing with a styrofoam head on a stick singing along with pink's "i'm comin' up"
• she makes the best guacamole
• lindsey knows what it is like to fall in public
• one time we took a day trip to DC and got totally lost but had a great time anyway
• she will always drive when i fall asleep in the car (20 minutes into any trip)
• she always asks about my cat.
• our friendship somehow started by bonding over sandwiches at upstairs hibbs before it burned down
• we share similar views on bangs
• she bought me sweet socks in jamaica
• she will forever be my valentine
• she gave me a poster of hannibal lector
• we once ate a calzone called "the cheezer"
• she's the coolest girl in philly.

Happy birthday, Lindsey!