Saturday, January 17, 2009

Should I Be Concerned?

My father told me he was going to Walgreens today (Editors note: by today I meant Sunday... I have a job you know). This does not surprise me. He loves that place. For complete serious. He can spend HOURS browsing the isles coming back two, three, fours days later with two plastic bags full of such delights as Wrigley's DoubleMint Kona Cream Gum, i.e. coffee flavored spearmint, that he bought for .09 cents, and Clean & Clear face glow moisturizer that he assumes one of the three ladies of the house could dig. And if not, he informs me, as he lathers his hands with the metallic-like substance, it works on the body so no harm done. No, no harm done... to your hands. But your sweater? Yeah, "glow" taints my friends. Regardless, it's always fun to unpack the treasures my father finds at Walgreens. Unsuprisingly most fall under the "man I was so high at our company's product development symposium" category so they are practically gifted away. And my family does not reject gifts unless it surpasses the governments $1.5M lifetime gift exemption. Even then, I would take it and move to El Salvador where the word "extradite" is only used in terms of teeth cleaning. But alas today I was denied such pleasures. Why you ask? Because my father lied. He normally doesn't lie. Nunca. In fact I'd say his "honesty" can at times be....hmmm what's the word...douche-icitus. Like when he always says he liked my hair better before after I've returned from the salon in tears with a new hair cut that I asked the stylist to mimic Rachel Bilson only to realize after the scissors hit the hair shaft that she doesn't know who Rachel Bilson is but she knows of another famous Rachel, i.e. Rachel Green from Friends that she just so happened to have caught on reruns the night before in that episode where Ross and Rachel FINALLY get together and was that not who I was talking about? Comma, oh dear.

But anyway...I digress.


My father did not end up going to Walgreens because he, like many of us, got lured in by the ridiculous sales signs all over department stores. Don't you feel like those numbers on the colored cardboards are singing to you?..."Making your way in the world today takes everything you've got...wouldn't you like to get away....sometime you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came...." I know they know my name, especially at Barney's Co-Op, but in all heart attack, the sales dudes...the sales! Sidenote: I just bought some freaking sweet ass boots for 70% of. 70 PERCENT OFF. Only in this crippling economy guys. Where was I? Ah yes, so about four hours after the whole, "Oye, me voy a Walgreens, nos vemos" convo, my Dad comes back with some purchases. Sadly, none of them are of the macadamia nut flavored Neosporin variety but instead clothes for hisself. Two pairs of jeans. Alright. A bit baggy for my taste but perhaps my dad doesn't like constriction. Nor do I like the fact that I thought about my father's idea of what he finds constricting, or if he constricts, or anything related to anything ever never ever never never nunca never ever about my father and constriction in any sense of wanting constriction or just constriction with father.never. Next came a suit jacket that whatever. I mean it's a suit jacket. He tells me he'll wear it to tango. By all means go for it. And then....

And then he busts out his most favorite find of the day, a hunter green terry track suit from Juicy Couture...for men. Number one: They make Juicy Couture track suits for men? Number two: They make Juicy Couture track suits for men and men are buying them? Number three: They make Juicy Couture track suits for men and men are buying them and by men I mean my father? Is Speechless. I instinctively checked his wrists and hands for any silver chain bracelets or some sort of a leather cuff or perhaps a thick ring in the shape of a cross. WHAT.THE.FUCK. My mind immediately starts running and I take myself back to last weekend. Father in the kitchen. Long-sleeve fitted thermal with a skull emblazoned with what I thought when the sun hit it just so was a rhinestone but turned out to be an eyelash in my eye. He had paired that winner with a striped scarf. I laughed it off as a fluke but now? It is true that many a times good deals dictate what my father wears. He is anything if not monetarily savvy. And it's true that sometimes he does not know of what he wears. Take for instance fifteen years ago. My father is gifted, or found, or whatever a t-shirt that read "Vivo y Positivo!". He wore that beauty all the time because it was colorful and free and he thought it was a lovely shout-out to the art of thinking optimistically since the literal translation of the phrase reads, "Alive and Positive!" But no. The shirts were made for an AIDs walk-a-thon two years prior. Get it. Alive and Positive. I mean we all knew that. I thought he did too. It wasn't until I finally decided to verbally commend him for the solidarity that he awakened to the gist of the shirt. He hasn't worn it since. Not that he was offended by it in any way but you know he is clocking at a mean 135 pounds on a good week. Totally unfair, really high metabolism, but yeah.

So my point to this long winded rant is...should I be concerned? It starts with Juicy and faux Ed Hardy but then what? True Religion jeans? John Hardy wallet chain? SPRAY TAN!!!!!!!

I think we need to stage an intervention. Agree?

More After the Jump!

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

I Will CUT YOU if you Don't

I don't watch TV much anymore. No, really. I'm 100% serious. Is there a new Office this week? Guess what...I dunno. Ok I do know. Yes there is and it looks amusing. But...but..I don't watch it live anymore. I don't watch anything live anymore. Honest. I had this idea awhile ago to attempt to explain this sudden seismic shift but you know what? I didn't. Not that it matters because I'm telling you now. I don't watch television much anymore. But does anyone these days? In any sort of religious way? I don't know someone who does. Do you? Are the constant questions confusing? Sorry I'm listening to music right now so I'm not coherent. I listen to music now. I also read. And do yoga in my bedroom with this DVD of a yoga instructor in her 60's with more flexibility than I feel is comfortable to watch. In, by the way, a green unitard that shows off her womanly figure nether area triangle to the fullest disadvantage. Think basset hound. I also like doin' stuff like drinking water. But all this my friends is a red herring because I have a favor to ask. Friday Night Lights comes back to NBC this Friday and I want the show to survive. Admitedly I never got around to finishing the second season but it's good quality entertainment. And Taylor Kitsch is in it in all his future Gambit glory. I'm going to Tivo it to support. You will too. I'm telling you now. To get you motivated:

More After the Jump!

Friday, January 2, 2009

Sharing the Love

Since I have some free time lately I thought I'd keep this puppy mildy up to date. Of course I make no promises. Promises are for politicians, but I'm trying. I thought today I would post some of the songs I've been listening to lately. They may not be your cup of tea but it's free. You wouldn't pass up the free handouts at Smoothie King even if you ate already, am I right? Exactly. Enjoy:

Fleet Foxes: Blue Ridge Mountains
Stars: Life 2 Unhappy Ending
Kings of Leon: Use Somebody
Bloc Party: Signs
The National: Fake Empire
Vampire Weekend: Exit Music (For a Film)
Paramore: Hallelujah
The Black Ghosts: Repetition Kills

More After the Jump!

Thursday, January 1, 2009

New Resolutions

My New Years Resolutions:

1. Download full albums. Last night Jen gave me two CD's to burn into my iTunes, Fleet Foxes and She & Him. If this were 2008 I would have probably just listened to the album picked one or two winners and left it at that. But this is 2009 my friends and I'm turning over a new leaf. This year it'll be all or nothing. I'm off to a great start, downloaded full albums of The Black Ghosts, Bloc Party, and The National. I'm more awesome already.

2. Stop being a bitch. A couple of weeks ago a co-worker described me as "acerbic" before taking it back then, a few seconds later, feeling the need to be a bit more accurate and descriptive, called me "caustic". Yes, caustic: capable of burning or corroding living tissue. That doesn't sound very pleasant now does it. I thought he was just on his period until a couple of days when another friend called me a "real fucking bitch". Granted said individual was at the time taking shots of After Shock while simultaneously drinking Red Bulls and Vodka. Not to mention three hours later found himself at a strip club getting kicked out for reasons he will not divulge. Needless to say he said it. Multiple times. And with much more ferocity as the night wore on. He also called me a lesbian, but I'm guessing that's just because the word "bitch" wasn't piercing my hard as steel exterior. That or he remembered my haircut from sophomore year. However today in the early hours of 2009 I think I can safely say that yes, I am a really bitchy hoesbeast. Bitchy bitchy, bitchy. Hoesbeast, hoesbeast, hoesbeat. Nice ring to it, no? But, as I admit this let me go on record as stating that some may find the attitude charming, i.e. myself. As they say one person's shit is another person's treasure. However I see it. I see how most would not want to be in my company the way that I act. And by most I mean everybody. So yeah, in the upcoming year I'm gonna try my hardest to earn a downgrade from caustic to merely off-putting. If I succeed we all win kids.

3. Remember I have a closet. This one is pretty self-explanatory. While I did ask for a maid for Christmas when I was nine, true story, at 29 asking for one for Christmas seems...so...I'm just going to say it cause you know it's true... smart...yes guys, smart.. but alas unnecessary. As is making Christmas lists. With the economy as it is and people reverting to Hamburger Helper to get them through this tough time, a maid could be superfluous if I remember that I have a closet.

There are other resolutions but eh. I won't actually work on them so why memorialize the rest of the list on my blog. Those that I have discussed here are the only ones that could potentially not make me suck in 2009.

Laters.

Oh, and Happy New Year.

More After the Jump!