Happy Birthday, Wife!

So, I was at work one day toward the end of November and I get a text from a number that I'm not familiar with. It read something along the lines of:

"Hello, miss. It's your wife's boyfriend."

Hi JJ! He went on to ask me if I would be open to coming up to spend New Years with the crew. Of course I wanted to, but it would obviously be extremely expensive. He explained that it would be a birthday gift for my bestest and he would split it with a couple of other amazing friends. I agreed that if I could get the time off approved, of course I would go.

By November 30th, the flight was officially booked and I was officially going to freeze my butt off with my favorite people. The hard part: keeping it a surprise from Allie. We tell each other everything! There were so many things I wanted to tell her and so many questions I had about New Years that I couldn't say or ask! 


Lucky for me, I had E to keep me posted. I couldn't very well ask JJ, what if she was around when I sent him an email or a text? What if he forgot to delete them from his phone and she saw what I had written? I couldn't take the chance. E and I developed our own code word just in case Allie was around or for E, just in case he accidentally messaged the wrong girl. Afterall, our names both begin with "Al-" and our screen names are dangerously similar. We agreed that we wouldn't mention anything about new years without proper use of the code phrase.

"Tippy toe!"

For the next couple of weeks we talked about how we were going to surprise Al with the news of my coming up. It was especially hard not to tell her when she would constantly tell me she wished I were there, or wished that I was going to be there for Christmas or that I should be E's date for New Years (little did she know!). Eventually, JJ decided that it would be be best if he were to tell her on her Birthday (Christmas day). At that time, there would only be about a week before I would arrive. I told him just to let me know what he needed me to do and I would absolutely do it.

Christmas day, JJ texted me when he was on his way to Allie's to celebrate her 20-something birthday.

"I'll be at Allie's at around 3:30. I'll call you and pass the phone so you can tell her." 

Sure thing! And sure enough, I got the phone call. We exchanged Merry Christmas' and he told me to hold on while he handed Allie the phone. After I heard her nervous, "hello?" all I could think to say was:

"Hi! I just wanted to say Happy Birthday... and I love you... and I can't wait to see you on Thursday."

 The reaction was caught on tape and might I say it was quite hilarious. However, I don't have the code to embed it in this blog. Ho-hum!

See you in a couple days, love!

 

Uncensored: Audacity Awareness

They say when it rains, it pours. In my (un)professional opinion, I'm not sure if it's because a lot of negative things happen at once or if it's because since we're already sensitive from our one bumming event that we just think everything else that follows is negative. 

I consider things to be really "bad" when I feel the need to call my best friend and begin the conversation with, "you're not going to believe this..." Otherwise, things can wait until the following day until I see her on AIM. She also suggested that I write about it and eirgo, she contributed to the title of this very blog.

A couple months ago, I went on a first (and last) date with this guy we shall call Brad. We seemed to have a great time. We talked, laughed, shared a few drinks, shared a snack (I paid) and then we played video games in which I whooped his scrawny butt. All the signs pointed to "GO - collect $200." We even sat in the parking lot for what seemed like two hours talking and kissing like teenagers. The months pass, we don't see each other again, but we continued to talk here and there. He would complain about how he's embarrassed to date anyone because his career isn't going where he wanted it to go, he was 30 living with his parents and he in all felt like a loser. I was supportive and I gave him words of encouragement until he landed his dream job (well, almost) to which I said, "see? I told you things would work out."

In the last few weeks, Brad would tell me he wanted to hang out again, even shared his thoughts about what he'd like to do in a physical sense (oh, behave). He's very charming in a dorky sort of way, so a few nights ago, I felt like playing along with him. I sent him a message asking him if he could do me a favor. My plan was to follow it up with something flirty. Brad's response:

"Make it quick. I have to be up at 5 AM for work."

The only thing I could think to say after that was, "goodnight." Talk about a mood-killer! The next evening, I got an IM from him saying:

"Now I know how you felt after our first date."

I was intrigued! I didn't even know how I felt after our first date. He went on to explain that he went on an amazing date on Christmas Eve and he hasn't really heard back from the girl. He was bummed out because it was the best date he's been on in 10 years. There were several other details and I sat there and read each message with many different emotions swirling around my brain. Is this guy serious? I didn't know which was worse! The fact that he assumed I felt my date with him was the best I had been on in 10 years or the fact that he had the audacity (word of the day) to vent to me about his woes!

I let him have it. Boy, did I let him have it. I calmly (yet firmly) explained to him how silly he was to assume that's how I felt. Not only that, but if he thought I felt that way, then what in his right mind would make him think it would be okay to tell me about his problem? Looks aren't everything, because as handsome as this guy may have been, he definitely wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. The only thing I could think to say after that was:

"Since day one I've been trying to be nothing but understanding and supportive but I can't help but think you're just a dick. I'm going to go ahead and take your advice from last night and 'make it quick.'"

Gone. Deleted. I've seen "He's Just Not That Into You," I don't need this crap!

Two days later I check my messages and I have an email from a dear, old friend whom we shall call Ben. Ben goes on to write that he needs me to disappear from his life because he's trying to patch things up with his wife and he doesn't want any distractions (she's never really liked me - it's more for her). I can appreciate that, although, the night before he was using me as a shoulder and didn't want to lose me again. He also explained that if they were to split for good, he would be back to reclaim his old friend.

I was a little hurt, but I wrote him back telling him that if he were to come back, hopefully I'd be understanding enough to accept. Later on that same day, he sends me an IM saying:

"Of course you'll accept, that's what friends do. We'll have a beer and laugh it off."

The audacity! How dare you toss our life-long friendship aside and then assume that I'll accept it when you're ready to pick up again. If you feel my friendship is disposable, then maybe I shouldn't be so forgiving.

Audacious audaciousness! Do you mooks have any pride?

au-da-cious  /ɔˈdeɪʃəs/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [aw-dey-shuhs] Show IPA

–adjective 1. extremely bold or daring; recklessly brave; fearless: an audacious explorer.
2. extremely original; without restriction to prior ideas; highly inventive: an audacious vision of the city's bright future.
3. recklessly bold in defiance of convention, propriety, law, or the like; insolent; brazen.
4. lively; unrestrained; uninhibited: an audacious interpretation of her role.

(via)

2009 Christmas List: UPDATE

I got the toothbrush. 






...and only the toothbrush.


Heck, I may as well do a review on it.


So, good ole' pops picked out the Philips Sonicare Essence 5300. It's the cheapest model, I believe, but I absolutely dig it.

(via)

The one I was introduced to (at my dentist office) was this heavy-duty mammerjammer with different settings (rush mode or regular - kind of silly) and a UV cleaner. This model, the e5300 is pretty basic - no special settings, no UV sanitizer but I've already used it 3 times and each time I feel like I just got a professional cleaning. It also has a neat feature where it automatically turns off after your 2 minutes. For those of you with poor hygiene, you're supposed to brush your teeth for 2 minutes (in circular motions if you want to get specific). You don't even need to do that with this brush, actually. This sucker is wicked powerful. In fact, I'm going to recommend that toy manufacturers (adult or otherwise) should start using that technology, if you catch my drift.

Overall, A+. I loves me my new toothbrush.

Now, someone send Ryan!

Adventures of A&A: Fantastical Fiction

"A day in the life of a girl and her wife."

Allie: all i want to do for a living is write
Allie: my own shit
Allie: my own way
Alicia: yeah, good luck with that
Alicia: lol
Allie: carrie bradshaw did it!
Alicia: she's not real, baby
Allie: i know
Allie: i want her career...and her shoes

Heaven is Convenient

I liked Brittany Murphy. A lot. Since I first saw her. I'm absolutely heart-broken that she left us so tragically at such a young age. It's in these moments that I wish I believed in God because I hate picturing someone's life just blatantly ending with nothing afterwards. I guess this is where my trouble lies.

Hopefully her energy is somewhere peaceful.

Yeah...

(via)

2009 Christmas List

I'm Jewish and non-religious, so without further ado, here is my Christmas wish-list:

Pleo by Ugobe

That's right, we all know this. I want a "life form" that won't crap on my carpet. Or eat. And has an OFF button if necessary. Besides, who doesn't want a pet dino? Hopefully we get Christmas bonuses at work 'cause this is where it's going. Mommy's coming, Pleo!

 

Philips Sonicare mack-daddy electric toothbrush

What?! I like clean teeth. Besides, I have dental floss in my purse, desk at work and my house, so why don't I own this? Exactly - it would only make sense. 

 

(via)

Clydesdale

I've wanted one of these bad boys since I was a kid. I want the animal, not the bills that come with it. These things are massive. That is all.

Micro pave diamond ring

Okay, so, obviously it doesn't have to be emerald cut, but I'd like a diamond ring that has diamonds surrounded by diamonds. Platinum or white gold, size 3.5.

Ryan Buell

I've also wanted this for a while now. I'm pretty sure he comes as a combo deal with the ring above, no? My mother says he's creepy-looking like Malakai from Children of the Corn. I say NAY! Ah, crap - I missed the season 4 premiere of Paranormal State last night, didn't I? CRAP!

Wife

I miss her. She loves me unconditionally and I love her the same. She's the one person who can do the most dumb things (which she doesn't really do) and I still don't get frustrated with her. Plus she takes wicked good care of me. I wouldn't mind her moving down.

This concludes my wish-list for this year. Thank you in advance.

Adventures of A&A: Mistaken Identity

"A day in the life of a girl and her wife."

Allie: i love dave
Alicia: kotchie?
Allie: matthews
Alicia: OH
Alicia: lmao

Ode to John Mayer

Dearest John Mayer,

How your youthful, naive awkwarness captured our hearts. Your excellent hair and grimace guitar faces sucked us in like a vortex.

(via)

You caught a lucky break, dearest John Mayer, and nailed yourself a former attractive actress. So what if her weight fluctuated up and down like the temperature of a Florida winter? Several tattoos and fat supermodels later, you're still the man. 

A Berklee attendee who gets off on making others wonder. Did you ever graduate? You write songs about smoking pot and being in love, yet you do not love. Are you sad, John Mayer?

A future legend, you are, John Mayer. Your douchebaggery is something I can overlook. And I do.

Come Back to Bed.

Death Penalty: Sweet Dreams!

I'm typically a classy eye-for-an-eye kinda lady, but I'm still not sure how I feel about the death penalty. I was reading the BBC News and I came across the article about how Oklahoma is finding a more "humane" form of the lethal injection (article here). They say it'll be a more "peaceful" death, whereas sometimes the other form of lethal injection may cause suffocation due to muscle paralysis.

Do I care?! The person is being put to death because they put someone else to death. Odds are they didn't show the same courtesy to their victim. Why should they get free housing and food while they wait for their anesthetic? Yes, they compare the new injection to anesthesia. You will peacefully close your eyes and not wake up. Ever.

Furthermore, do I even want them to die? That's like putting them out of their misery. I'm not religious, so I don't believe that they'll necessarily go to hell. Eirgo, I want them to rot. Suffer. Think about what they've done for the rest of their miserable, caged lives.

But wait, fickle aquarius. No one wants to be told their life is going to end because of something they've done (suicide doesn't count). I'm sure the 10 seconds when the verdict is delivered are the most horrible 10 seconds of their life. My heart would freaking sink if I heard other people were telling me that I'm going to be killed as a punishment.

My tentative solution: Sentencing criminals to death row and not actually killing them. It's perfect! They live their lives out in prison wondering when their day is going to come. I also recommend that they're told they're going to be lynched or mamed in the guillotine. Something awful and gut-wrenching just to add fuel to the fire.

Call me heartless, but for some reason "sleepy-bye" medicine just doesn't seem like justice. It almost seems like a favor.

***Addendum***

It was brought to my attention that I contradicted myself with the housing/food situation. Yes, I do. Obviously felons are going to be placed in prison where they're fed and given a slab of cement to sleep on which the citizens pay for. I just think murderers should be treated differently. I suggested to my dear friend Andy that we throw killers in a hole and let them starve slowly, yet surely. Maybe throw them a few sips of water and a ration of bread like the prisoners of concentration camps were given until they eventually wasted away. Andy quickly put me in my place:

Andy: that's cruel and unusual
Andy: unconstitutional
Andy: if we can't do it to terrorists, who aren't even US citizens, we certainly can't do it to prison inmates who are.

Very well, then.

P.S. You can catch the blog he contributes to here.

Myspace: Creeper McCreepalman

I used to be completely into Myspace and I hated Facebook. That may partly be because I wasn't in college and I couldn't join Facebook at the time, but I found Myspace to be colorful and fun. Oh, and I don't like change, but I digress.

Myspace was easy. Put your page on private (if you wish), add and deny friends as you please, keep comments public or private via messages -- easy and fun to use. You could even go into stalker-mode and browse around for people in your area or search for people by name. I had a lot of fun with that and if you say you didn't do it you're a liar and I don't like liars.

I was a faithful Myspace user for years. I never got into Facebook or Hi5 or even Twitter (now). Trust you me, my life is not interesting enough for Twitter. The only time I've ever strayed away from my beloved 'Space was when Facebook became open for anyone to join. I was finding that more people I knew liked Facebook better, so I took the plunge and created my account. Slowly but surely, Facebook overruled Myspace.

Granted, there are still a few friends who don't use Facebook and they only have Myspace accounts, so I kept my profile active checking it only when I received notifications that I had a message or a friend request. I've had the same page content for at least 3 years and although my tastes may have slightly changed, the Myspace world is not aware.

Then it happened.

A few weeks ago I was shopping with my mother for a Thanksgiving platter dish to bring to my uncle's house for dinner. There's clearly no other place to do that aside from The Tower Shops for obvious reasons. We looked diligently in Old Navy, DSW shoes, Bath and Body Works and the pet store, but no dish. After a while, we made our way over to TJ Maxx and scanned the purse section, but to no avail. We figured it couldn't hurt to check the home goods section, so we walked up and down the aisles checking all of the plates and dishes for something festive.

I glanced up and I saw him. Dexter Morgan. In TJ Maxx. Okay, not really, but I saw an old friend whom I haven't talked to in years. I recognized him instantly, and even though I know he saw me, I could tell he didn't recognize me. Marme and I left the shops empty-handed (well, platterless, anyway) and headed home.

I'm not impulsive at all, so I immediately fired-up my laptop and searched for him on Myspace (I guess we deleted each other in the past after we lost touch). I shot him a simple message saying, "Was that you?! It was, wasn't it." He replied minutes later, but he had no idea what I was talking about. Or at least he pretended he didn't. No matter - the next few days were spent exchanging messages and catching up a bit.

I decided I would also update my profile page. I changed my layout to the new style, which apparently means you have to update all of your privacy settings as you go along. I failed to note that. The friend requests and messages from random people began pouring in.

Weirdos from all over South Florida were sending me messages. Some of them, repeats. "Your beautiful." You can't spell, sir, and I don't know you. I quickly figured out that my profile was no longer completely private and addressed the issue. Did it help? No! "Your beautiful." I still don't know you. "MiAmI hOtT bOii wants to be your friend." Who?! At least 20 different people and messages flooded my inbox.

Random guy: How come you didn't respond to my message? Do you have something against me?!
Lee: I don't know you, sorry.
Random guy: So you have something against getting to know new people?
Lee: Yes.

Next message.

"Your beautiful."
Sir, this is the third time. I didn't reply the other two and this is obviously not going to be the charm. *BLOCK*

Myspace, you are officially the most creepy website ever and my love for you has completely deminished. People of Myspace, you are even more creepy for utilizing the website as an excuse to harrass. I am not impressed.

Nick, it was nice running into you. Please start using AIM.

Adventures of A&A: Teleportation, please.

"A day in the life of a girl and her wife."

Allie: really wish you were here for xmas
Alicia: maybe one year we'll plan for it... its just always so nuts during the holidays
Alicia: expensive and busy and ridiculous
Allie: yah
Allie: most def
Alicia: effing teleporters
Alicia: they need to get on that
Allie: i know
Allie: who do we talk to?
Allie: Nasa?
Allie: Obama?
Alicia: lmaoooooooooooo

Tiger Woods, You Scumbag

Tiger Woods crashed. Tiger Woods cheated... with multiple women. Tiger, Tiger, Tiger.

W H O    G I V E S    A    R A T S   A S S ? !

I hate the news. I find it depressing and it bores me to tears, but I have to believe that there's something more important in this ridiculous world than how Tiger Woods decides to live his personal life.

Dear Media,

Are you that desperate for stories? Tiger Woods plays a great round of golf, he's not the spokesperson for fidelity. When the drama of his personal life overshadows any other story on CNN, or every single magazine or gossip website posts the same story with a few different words, not only are you being redundantly boring and unoriginal, but you're showing how idiotic you really are when you're depicting this to be the most important piece of news since Thanksgiving.

Get your heads out of your asses and talk about something that matters. I have friends in Afghanistan.

Sincerely,

Lee

"Fragile! Must be Italian."

Is it wrong to just forget about shopping for Christmas/Hanukkah and just buy yourself what you want?  I think that would be a lot easier and logical instead of receiving yet another pair of slippers you'll never wear or a duster (thanks, mom).  I'm a poser, anyway.  I only like the holiday for the spirit, which brings me to my next case:

Behold, exhibit A:

Using other peoples property to make yourself happy.
I'm not buying a tree.  I'm not buying a Hanukkah bush.  I'm not climbing on a ladder and hanging boring blue and white lights - that's where you come in.  You're the one who's going to be keeping these supplies in your attic for the next year.  You buy, I'll play.

Exhibit B:

Using other peoples property to make yourself happy.
Yes, same headline, different context.  Sometimes I need a change of scenery.  I'll make that happen in your home that way I don't have to rearrange mine back when we're done.  Win/win.

This year was fun.  Mike and I have a mini-tradition where we hang our respective Florida stockings and call it a day, but this year he felt like he wanted to splurge and get a tree.  Win!  Mike did most of the dirty work when he traveled to approximately 4 different Home Depots, bought his faux tree and his desired white tree lights and some how packed it in/on the Accord.  I'm assuming it wasn't that difficult being it probably came in a box. 

I saw the bat signal Saturday night.  "Do you want to come with me to Wal-Mart and get some decorations for the tree?"  Abso-friggen-lutely, right after a Starbuck's pitstop.  After running over some palm tree leaves and almost falling up Mike's stairs (twice), we departed for the ever-so-yuppie WalMart off of Three Islands Boulevard.  We purchased shatter-proof ornaments which proved their durability a few times throughout the evening, picked out a pretty sweet star that lights up and one strand of white snowflake garland.  After driving around Hollywood Circle at least 4 times, we found a parking spot and walked over to Pizza Rustica which was quite delicious, then made our way back to casa de Mike so that he could supervise me while I decorated his tree.

Zero beers and 25 minutes later, she was finished.  Then another 25 minutes and an extension cord later, Mike got the star working.  I'm pretty pleased, overall.  I know nothing of decorating and Mike found pizza and football.

Maybe Pleo will fit under it?

Heavens - Leave

(via)

The night is falling, thank God
I hear the calling of the skeletons under the sod
The skeletons under the sod

The day is dying, big smile
Pose through the camera, a giant step for your kind
One of a kind

Don't leave just yet
Quiet on the set
Let's give this one more go
Make ourselves ill, poppin' sugar pills
Will swallow nice and slow

Don't leave just yet
We've just had a wreck
I'll need your name and phone
And water for these slow-dying trees
Where gardens used to grow

The sky is falling, straight down
It's come to crush us and leave us in our blood to drown
Barely making sound
The streets are painted so still
Can hear the breathing, the making sense of the spill
Enough to make you wanna kill

Don't leave just yet
Quiet on the set
Let's give this one more go
And make ourselves ill poppin' sugar pills
Will swallow nice and slow

Don't leave just yet
We've just had a wreck
I'll need your name and phone
And water for these slow-dying trees
Where gardens used to grow

Don't leave just yet
Quiet on the set
Let's give this one more go
And make ourselves ill poppin' sugar pills
Will swallow nice and slow

Don't leave just yet
We've just had a wreck
I'll need your name and phone
And water for these slow-dying trees
Where gardens used to grow

I swear I'm Not Drunk, Occifer!

I'm going to give some background even though I don't feel like I have to or that I should. From the end of 2005 until the beginning of 2009 I seemed to have had a strange fascination with men who wear uniforms and carry guns. Hi, I'm Lee and I'm a cop-a-holic. 

Fast forward: a few horrible "relationships" and numerous pleas from family and friends later, I decided to leave that life behind me. OKAY! One minor relapse in June and July (he was wicked hot). Yeah, chalk it up to childhood issues, whatever. No more cops. I get it. Apparently everyone else except me knew that officers have poor track records when it comes to commitment and faithfulness. The only commitment they have is the one to serve. Of course, being a woman, I thought maybe I could change that in at least one of them, but to no avail.

Admittedly, I still look when I see a cruiser and rate an officers good-looks (or lackthereof) when they have someone pulled over on the side of the road. And even today I got excited when I saw a cruiser parked illegally in the fire lane as I was walking into the grocery store. I figured it was a cop stopping really quickly to grab snacks before work as he was close to his jurisdiction. I was hoping to come across him to see how hot he may or may not be and I did - as he was walking down the aisle with a rather unattractive girl. This guy is easily a 7.


Lee's reaction:

 "What the hell is wrong with this girl? Doesn't she know how this is gonna end?!"

Am I genuinely concerned for this poor girls feelings? Am I jealous that she may have found the only decent cop in South Florida? More importantly, what the heck do I care?! I know I'm better off. 

I need to meet a hot doctor. Or a garbage man, whomever's more faithful.

Be Kind, Don't Rewind

Is it wrong to compare going back in life to going back in a book? Flipping the pages back and thinking the words may have changed, or watching a movie over and over expecting a different ending? I used to go back - stop the DVD at a certain part and replay it, but of course, the ending was always the same. Sure, there are certain films that contain alternate endings, but those are few and far in between and most people hate the alternate endings, anyway.

I've decided I'm not going back. The endings are the way they are for a reason. The past isn't the present for a reason. "What if's" are called just that for a reason. They're fun to think about, but that's where it should be left. I'm comfortable with that idea for the first time in a long time.

Adventures of A&A: Baby Blues

"A day in the life of a girl and her wife."

Allie: so, i kinda feel bad for my future daughter
Allie: her initials will be PBJ
Allie: bc if i'm carrying her for 9 months then i am damn well making her middle name Butterfly
Alicia: whats p?
Alicia: penelope?
Allie: yes
Allie: I also like Adelaide Grace
Alicia: why are you doing this [to the poor child]?

PSA: I'm Friggin' TIRED!

“I’ll do it tomorrow” is such a popular phrase in my world. Whether it’s to practice for class, hang out with some friends or go out somewhere, tomorrow always seems like the better day. I'll be the first to admit that I have a streak of laziness but I'm tired of making excuses as to why I'm not the typical 25 year old running around downtown.

I just don't have the energy. I don't feel well.

That's the way it is. Don't question me, call me names or make me feel like a hermit loser. I'm not antisocial (I actually love being with my friends), I just simply don't have the energy. I'm tired, my joints hurt, my jaw hurts and I don't want to move!

In a related note, that's also exactly why I don't like to make plans. For those who I'm in touch with regularly, you'll often hear "we'll see how I feel." It's not a scapegoat. Sometimes I really do just feel.like.crap.

I love you.

Wake Up, You're Dead

This blog, I fear, has been brewing for a long time and although I'm not yet sure of how I'm going to write it, I'm sure once I get into my groove I'll be almost impossible to stop.

While discovering that tragic events have caused me to want to be closer to those I care about, I'm now finding that I'm losing even more faith in people than I already have. When did people become so evil and vile and inconsiderate? I know I'm too young to walk around lecturing, "back in my day..." but at the same time, when I was growing up I was able to play outside by myself in the neighborhood, ride my bike to elementary school, or play in the street without fear of speeding cars or disgusting kidnappers. Not to say bad things didn't happen, but it's not like today. I wouldn't let my child out of my sight this day in age.

How can people be so horrible?

I've been interested in the Jaycee Dugard case ever since she was found alive 18 years after her kidnapping. I'm interested in how her captors brainwashed her into living in their backyard in tents without trying to escape, I'm interested in what pleasure her captors got out of snatching her and keeping her as their pet. When I got home from work yesterday, the October 26, 2009 issue of People Magazine was on the dining room table with her face on it. The pictures were taken October 11, 2009. Jaycee's smiling at age 29.

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Jaycee and her two daughters, fathered by her captor, are now adjusting to a new life and as curious as I may be, I hope they get to do it in privacy. And I can't stress this enough: This needs to be a movie.

As I kept turning the pages of the magazine it only got more disturbing. A 16 year old girl, her 18 year old best friend and both of her parents were killed by her 20 year old boyfriend (whom she met online) when he got a little jealous over a text message. The article focuses mainly on how the teens were into this horrorcore lifestyle and that was probably partially to blame. He bludgeoned them to death and then remained living in the house with the corpses on the floor for 3 days. The article I read was in People Magazine, but you can read up on her story here.

That article kind of reminded me of another disturbing incident which happened in Europe in 2003 that I read about in the waiting room of a doctors office. A sick boy in England pretended to be a whole slew of different people in an internet chatroom to plot his own murder with an innocent chatter. It's very intricate, complicated, confusing and nothing less than interesting, and it can be read here. Again, a movie, please!

Anyway, I'm losing faith in people in general. There are some really disturbed people out there and it only gets worse with time. It kind of makes me want to lock myself in my house because lord knows when a friend will get upset because I forgot to put them on my top friends list on Myspace and they stab me to death.

Silly Dream: Let This Be A Lesson To Ya

I'm a huge fan of dreaming. I do it every night and I remember most of the details of every one. I also dream in color, so whoever said people don't dream in color is a moron. Moving on.

I don't share most of my dreams, there would be too many and they usually make more sense in our heads than they do when we try and verbalize them. This one, however, is a true gem. Feast your eyes:

I found a way to get Ryan Buell in Ft. Lauderdale, more specifically, my house. The details of how I did this are the part I can't remember, but I'm going to assume that I somehow used Alan as an excuse, as he's a skeptic and Ryan hunts ghosts. Friggen perfect, because now I can turn on my charm and get a few dates, or at least a run in the sack. The only problem? I failed to remove the hand-made mobile dangling from my bedroom ceiling that boldly displayed "Alicia <3 Ryan." (note: said mobile does NOT exist, there is no Ryan merch anywhere in my room unless you count his face on my desktop, cell phone and that dumb face-in-a-hole picture I created for fun located on my Facebook).
How could I have not taken that down?! Of course it ruined me, Ryan now knows that I'm a super fan (not to be confused with Sarafan) and he was angry! Before I knew it, he was kanoodling with another girl! Fury!

Moral of the story: Take down your Backstreet Boys, Hanson, Michael Phelps, Zac Efron, Michael Bublé (you get the point) pictures, posters and pathetic-grams because you never know when they'll end up in your bedroom. That goes for you, Allison.

Adventures of A&A: Kryptonite

"A day in the life of a girl and her wife."

Allie: i just bought jewrag a sugarfree apple pie
Alicia: LMAO
Alicia: god damn he's so fucking cute
Alicia: i wanna eat 'em
Allie: hahaha
Alicia: i love them all
Alicia: good job, allison
Alicia: you unleashed your secret weapon and have now discovered my weakness
Allie: muaahhhahahaha
Allie: egggsellent

*cue evil theme music*

Movie Review: Paranormal Activity

( via )

So this post is going to be fairly sort and sweet because I don't really have much to say on the subject.

Last night I saw Paranormal Activity and of course as a huge horror/thiller buff, I liked it regardless. I'm hopelessly biased. However, for all the hype it's gotten, I expected more. The idea of the story is genius: take a Blair Witch type of shoot to document a woman being tormented by a demon. The acting was good, I've seen better, but good. It was fairly easy to determine that this was, indeed, scripted. I also noticed (at least with the copy I had watched) that they didn't roll any credits as to solidify the fact that it was a real documentary - nice touch!

In all, great idea and although it won't be original, I predict a better version of this story (or a similar one) will be shot and released which I patiently await!

I'm Alive

It's always been said that flight is the safest form of travel. Statistically, this may be so, however soaring through the sky in a 200,000 lb airbus leaves me less than assured. I've always had recurring dreams of plane crashes: planes blowing up, planes plummeting, all sorts of scenarios and locations but all with one thing in common - I'm never on the plane. In my dreams I'm always witnessing the tragic event from a distance (not necessarily a safe one) and I'm always okay at the end. I chalk the dreams up to having a fear of the unknown. I don't understand how these heavy pieces of metal can stay up in the air without coming down. Hello, Newton and gravity.

I've also always been a great traveler in spite of these somber dreams, but I'm noticing as I get older, the less of an ideal traveler I become. I've started a tradition of kissing my hand and placing my kiss on the left side of the plane as I enter making sure to protect the flight (ha). I also make sure to say hello to the captains and to thank them as I exit - they're very special chauffeurs.

Needless to say, upon departing New York on the 21st, I lugged my Orange County Choppers duffle bag (mental note: invest in a duffle bag that has wheels) onto the airbus, somehow mustered up the strength to get it into the overhead compartment and took my seat in aisle 8 at the window. Not long after, a nice older gentleman took his seat in the aisle and we celebrated the empty chair between us as the plane doors closed and we backed out to take off.

I'm used to flying at night, so being able to wear sunglasses on the plane was like a special treat and I bounced my head happily as I stared out the window and lip synched to the XM Country station. Before long, the captain announced that we would soon be starting our descent and would be landing at FLL in 35 minutes. It was then that the plane started lowering into the clouds and I glanced out there curiously like a small child on her first flight.

What's the worst thing that could happen to a nervous flyer? Turbulence. I take a deep breath and continue back-seat driving. I noted the color of the clouds which were dark and  that alone gave me the indication that we were flying through rain clouds. Fine, okay. Suddenly, the plane drops. Even through my earbuds I can hear the screams of the other passengers. Simultaneously my fellow flyers and I all grabbed for whatever we could to keep us in our seats. Did you know that the first thing people instinctively try to hold is the ceiling? Neither did I until Tuesday. The plane regains control of its surroundings and we continue our descent.

I turn up the volume a little more on the XM radio. Could there be a better time for irony? Kenny Chesney, "I'm Alive" featuring Dave Matthews began to play. I laugh out loud and put my head back on the chair. Again, the plane drops and screams of horror drown out the soothing sounds of the lullaby. Although this felt like a terrifying roller coaster, there were no tracks. This time my arms went behind me and I grabbed the back of my own seat, meeting the hands of the gentleman behind me who also latched onto the back of my seat. I look up waiting for the oxygen masks to fall down. Yes, we dropped far. No, I'm not over-exaggerating.  "Flight attendants, please take your seats..." the captain ordered nervously.

THAT'S IT! As the captains regained control of their plane, I grabbed my sweater, buried my face in it and leaned toward the window so my aisle-mate wouldn't witness me cry like an 8 year old. The tears flowed as Kenny and Dave finished their song. I tried not to sniffle loudly and I stealthily let the tears roll onto my sweater. Thank goodness for those sunglasses. I made sight of the runway and muttered, "thank goodness" as the wheels gently touched down. There were some claps and laughs and "thank you Jesus'" throughout the plane.

The gentleman beside me in the aisle turned to me and asked with a smile, "feel better?"
"You heard me?!" I asked embarrassed. He still smiled and shook his head yes. "I'm not a good flyer" I said as I sniffled, no longer caring how loud I was as he already knew of my panic-session. He helped me get my bag down and I waited my turn to exit the plane.

I thanked the captains.

Adventures of A&A: Sleep on Sex

"A day in the life of a girl and her wife."

Allie: ps my sheets are clean
Alicia: hahahaaaaaaaaaaaa
Alicia: that did cross my mind earlier
Allie: hahahahaha

"Quick! What's the Number For 9-1-1?!"

A fair warning: It took me about an hour to type this out as I remember it. I didn't proof read it as I really don't want to think about it anymore, so if there are silly errors, I apologize!
-Lee


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They say that those who are in the emergency profession (EMT's, paramedics, firefighters, police officers) become emotionally numb from the experiences that they encounter throughout their careers and in most cases it's even expected and accepted. Their loved ones support them and understand when they get in their "moods" and they even have psychiatrists on-hand in case of a traumatic event. Even through my 3+ years on and off with my officer I learned to improvise, adapt and overcome (Semper Fi!) the detachment and lack of connection, but now, I'm not so sure I understand.

After work this evening I was driving home my usual way, a straight shot down Stirling Road, the same cars every day. This is ridiculous, we should car pool. There was nothing out of the ordinary, the usual bad drivers and my radio blaring my recent kick: Billy Currington's "Heal Me," Jason Aldean's "Big Green Tractor" and Dierks Bentley's "Come A Little Closer," all of which I play... over and over. 

By the time I got to 90th Ave it was time to restart "Heal Me" so I could try and duet with Billy one more time before arriving home. I know by now to hit "back" on my iPod three times after Dierks to get to my song, which is what I was working on when I hit the aqueduct bridge. Once I made it over the bridge, it was at that time that my overall outlook had changed.

Not to sound tragically poetic, but there he lay. Once I comprehended that there was a young man laying face down in the middle of the road because he had been hit, I immediately pulled over. It had obviously just happened as there was no one else on scene except the driver who hit him, and the man in front of me who saw the accident. I grabbed my phone, shut off my engine and how I managed to even think of locking my door because I was leaving my purse in the car, I'll never understand. I couldn't even figure out how to wake my phone up from sleep mode to dial, what's that number again? 9-1-what? My hands were shaking and I couldn't think. The witness of the accident was on the phone already and all I could hear was the driver in a panic 20 feet away from where the boy lay.

I looked across the street and the victim's friend was pacing and dialing his phone, too. I looked back at the victim and he was starting to bleed pretty badly from his head and face, and the road rash on his dark skin left a layer that was fresh and light pink. It was at that time he started to come to and he lifted his head in what appeared to be an attempt to get up. I quickly ran over and pleaded with him to stay down. Another neighbor who lived on the street apparently heard the collision and ran over with some towels and he was also talking to 911 via his blue tooth headset. He carefully placed the towel under the boy's face so he wasn't directly on the concrete and it quickly started soaking up the blood. 

Onlookers started to pile around, but not too close. Some were directing traffic around us as to not cause any more harm to anyone, including the victim. The boy's young, scared friend ran over to ask us, phone in hand, "is he alive?" Even though his friend was alive, my heart sank. One minute they're skateboarding on the street, the next minute things are so hectic that he didn't even know if his buddy was breathing. I think it was about that time that I heard him tell the operater that they're both 15 years old. It was apparent that the victim had no idea what was going on, we didn't expect anything else, but he began convulsing and contorting his body. "He's going into shock!" a bystander shouted. Not too long after, a young girl who was a paramedic ran onto the scene and began talking to him and putting pressure on his head. Luckily we managed to keep him down until the paramedics arrived. 

At one point, I don't even know when in between all of the madness, I looked over at the driver who was standing alone with her arms crossed and an obvious look of sorrow on her face. She was young, late 20's so I could only imagine what she was feeling. I made my way over to her and asked her if she was okay to which she quickly replied, "no!" and began crying. I gave her a hug and I played with her hair as she was voluntarily sobbing her story on what happened. "I mean, his head imprint is in my car!" she cried out as she pointed to her windshield. Sure enough, on the passenger side of her windshield was a huge hole, glass cracked and the passenger side mirror behind us on the ground. 

Within what seemed like hours but was probably only a matter of minutes, every Cooper City sheriff and an ambulance and fire truck were on scene to take over. The boys clothes were cut off, and he was eventually carefully loaded onto a stretcher and sped away to the hospital. Apparently the witness had the boy's panic-stricken friend call the mother to tell her that he was conscious, but he had been hit and to be ready to meet him at the hospital. She made it to the scene in time to meet the ambulance before he was loaded and gone. 

We stood around and had our conversations with the investigating officers while the firemedics cleaned the blood and clothing off of the street. The kind neighbor with the towels had disappeared and so did the heroic paramedic girl. Then we finally had enough time to catch our breath and wipe the sweat off of our faces to actually have a conversation with each other.


It was funny - we all spoke of the boy, how it happened, why it happened, why it shouldn't have happened and how we're not going to let it happen to our own children. We talked about how close we all live to each other and how long we've been here in the neighborhood. I never heard a "great job" or a "thank you." It wasn't left out in a rude way, but more of a "we did what we had to do and what we wanted to do" fashion. It was already known. 

The lead investigator finished his reports and granted us permission to leave while the other officers kept the road closed until we could safely pull our vehicles off from the side and back in the direction we were originally heading - home. After the witness pulled away, I drove the 20 feet to where the shaken driver was. I shouted to her to take care and I turned onto my street which was another 10 feet away.

I don't know any of their names.

How can our first responders be so numb? Instead of wanting to pull away from those who care about me, all this experience made me want to do is be closer to those people. Maybe I'm just naive, though. Afterall, this was one accident I pulled over for, our heroes do it every day.

"Feed the Birds, Toppins a Bag"

I love animals and among one of my favorites are birds. I love those dirty, flying rats. I spotted a new friend upon pulling into the parking lot of purgatory aka my job. A hawk of some sort! Gorgeous! (In my best Steve Irwin voice.)

Feel the Growl

It all started one fateful day in 1996 when at age 13 I walked in on my mother watching a hockey game (ha, you thought I was going to say something else, didn't you?!). Confused, I interrupted the fast-paced ice dance with a, "What?! Why are you watching this?!" She laughed and then went on to explain how when she was a child she was forced to watch hockey by her father, so now that our native team had made the playoffs, she thought she'd watch to see what happend. I was naive then because I then, too, thought it was important to watch. In time I would find out that she does that with ALL playoff sports, usually rooting for the underdog if a Florida or Boston/New England team isn't involved. She's a nonconformist like that. 

Ever since then I was hooked, but time was running out! I had to choose a favorite player! But who? I knew nothing of any of them. Afterall, I had been a hockey fan for what, a day? It was then that the announcers began talking of the rookie Radek Dvorak and his 13 goals even though he obviously subconsciously preferred hitting the posts over scoring. "That's him! He's my favorite!"

Here we are, 13 years later and he's still my favorite. Let the record show, though, that it's not because he's any good. I made a commitment to him and by God, I will keep it. I could now go into the Florida Panthers hockey organization and how badly they've screwed up the roster since winning Eastern Conference champions back then in 1996, but that's a different blog. 

I've been to many Panthers events from the party they held at the Miami Arena back in '96 after winning the conference; to NHL Breakout '98 and leaving with a z-ball hit by #5 Gord Murphy; to many autograph signings with former players including John Vanbiesbrouck, Paul Laus, Rhett Warrener, Ed Jovanovski, Robert Svehla, Billy Linsday, Tom Fitzgerald, Ray Sheppard, Radek Dvorak, David Booth (and winning his jersey that same night); to the reunion game in '98 and meeting some of them all over again years later, but there's one even that I haven't had the privilege of attending... until this past Saturday.

Opening night, ladies and gentlemen of the jury (or as it's written in my new favorite language, Stenography, LAIRJ). Could this be true?! I don't recall ever attending an opening night! How exciting! Lots of die-hard fans, lots of give-aways, over-priced food and beer and in this case, lots of losing! As much as I adore my crappy native Florida Panthers, I'm a hockey fan first and foremost so having Brian invite me to go and watch my Panths battle one of my childhood favorite goalies, Martin Brodeur, was a real honour and treat. It means a great deal to me, so I thank him for letting me accompany him and act a fool (I'm a psychopath in a hockey arena). 

On that note, GO PANTHERS! And to the Panthers management and coaching staff: Stop building a team that has potential and then selling them for players with half the talent. You will never get into the playoffs for long (if at all) if this is kept up. Bryan Murray is gone, act like it. 

Godspeed. 

Conformist!

I am a lot of things: Lazy, smart, boring, fun, practical, logical, silly, skinny, passive, agressive, passive-agressive, contradictory, witty, charming, sarcastic, caring, careful, aloof, deep, sentimental, loud, fearful, grateful, opinionated, stubborn, adaptable, original, ordinary, quick, slow, compliant, picky, fickle, simple, complicated, athletic, prideful, shameful, among countless other adjectives.

I will do many things to please another person. I will help when I don't want to help, I will eat where I don't want to eat, see movies I don't want to see, go to the bar I don't want to drink at, hang out with the people I don't want to hang out with among countless other scenarios,

but     I     p  r  o  m  i  s  e,

I will NOT share a part of me I'm not comfortable with. If I show you love, compassion, sensitivity, adoration, mercy, faith, praise, trust, among countless other gifts, know that it is because it's coming naturally and comfortably.

I'm sorry.

Gum Shoe!

It's amazing the things we take for granted. What's also amazing is how many people are fully aware that we take things for granted, but we can't help but to do it anyway as we get used to these amazing... things!

There's nothing I want more right now than a piece of gum. That's right. GUM. But can I chew it? No. These days, it feels that the only thing holding my jaw in place is the skin on my face. Scary, sick picture, I know. Instead, I have here the most delicious pack of tic tacs which mean NOTHING to me. These 1.9 calorie, artificially flavoured mints which encourage me to recycle do not take the place of gum in my heart.

The things we must sacrifice in the name of health. What's next? Cookies? Dream on.

Check One, Check...

Pack:

1. Toothbrush
2. Deoderant
3. Hairbrush
4. At least (3) pairs of jeans
5. Sweaters (AE green, black, blue hooded long sleeved shirt)
6. Nice shirt for outing
7. (2) pairs of boots, (1) pair of sneakers (if they fit in bag)
8. PJ's
9. Underwear
10. Socks
11. Scarf and light blazer
12. Makeup (only the necessities)
13. Digital camera (extra batteries)
14. Phone charger
15. Eyedrops

Reminders:

1. Remove everything in purse not needed
2. Wear as much as possible to save room in bag

Make sure Allie has:

1. Razor
2. Hair dryer and flat iron (who am I kidding?)

Adventures of A&A: Vitamin D

"A day in the life of a girl and her wife."

Alicia: i need to tan before i get up there
Alicia: i'm whiter than casper
Allie: me too, bc i am a ghost
Alicia: lol
Allie: i was using self tanner for awhile but eventually i just look jaundiced
Alicia: LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO

Burning ring of fire

Driving home from work this evening I couldn't help but notice this curious pinkish ring around the sun and NO I do not make a habit of staring at the sun. 

"How does this happen?!" I ask myself aloud in my car. Maybe tomorrow my retinas will have the answer. And my eye doctor.

 

Yeah, I'm sorry... whatever

Disclaimer: This is just my own personal belief, if you are offended easily, then do not continue reading.

Yom Kippur, the creme de la creme, the holiest of ho...lies. The day where millions of Jews around the world simultaneously and willingly give up food, washing, leather shoes and sex (oh, please, no!) in order to ask G-d for his forgiveness for their sins. And it is in these 26 hours that G-d does, indeed, forgive and cleanse of wrong-doings (hooray!).

WHAT... THE... HELL... ?

If I were heavy into religion, I'd say it sounds like a start and a mere cop-out. Think about it: All year we run around living our lives how we went to live them and then one single day each year we can simply lay off the french fries, give ourselves a rest from the horizontal mambo and a shower and wear flip flops, then voila! We're saved!!!

This goes for all religions. Those who truely believe in their G-d live their lives each day in the manner in which they think G-d wants them to. I think the rest of the population are a bunch of posers, only participating in some of the rituals out of shear fear (and laziness). These are the people who only pray when they're sick or in trouble, who only repent on days like this "just to be safe." The people who aren't sure if they believe in a G-d, but are afraid to say they don't because they don't know what will happen to them after they pass.

YEAH, OKAY...

If one day of saying, "oops! Sorry!" is all it takes, then hell, I'm in. Just not now, I'm gonna' wait until I'm on my death bed.

P.S. Just for the record, although I do consider myself to be agnostic, I do whole-heartedly respect those who do believe and live out each day emphasizing their beliefs, so long as they don't actively try and "save" me. I respect yours, you respect mine. Just know that in my book, evolution > creationsim

Adventures of A&A: Buyers (un)Remorse

"A day in the life of a girl and her wife."

Allie: I need a new pair of gym sneaks
Alicia: [my new Puma's are] very comfy, go with a lot of stuff
Allie: mine are falling apart
Alicia: oh yeah, and theyre good for running
Alicia: *cough*
Allie: hahaha
Allie: i think i'm gonna get the chucks tho
Allie: thus going against what i told jj last night
Alicia: excellent
Allie: that i'm not buying anything for myself until nov. 6
Alicia: wow thats a long time
Allie: his response "bullshit"
Allie: hahaha
Alicia: yeah seriously

Light at the end of the tunnel

today, 7:15 am

Sometimes the simple beauty of the world amazes me. *cue American Beauty floating plastic bag*

We are, indeed, a spoiled generation. Maybe we should get back to basics. I believe Louis CK said it best on Conan (I love you, CoCo)