Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Happy Birthday Bevers

Wednesday is Bev's birthday and although I'm a few hours early I wanted to send her a special burfday tribute.

34 Reasons I Like Bev... (in no particular order).

1. She's hi-freakin-larious
2. great hair
3. She likes wine as much as I do
4. She's a walking tabloid of celeb gossip
5. She'll play RockBand with me for hours
6. She doesn't hold it against me when I sing horribly at RockBand
7. She's my go-to editor
8. She made working at the world's crappiest TV station a BLAST!
9. She introduced me to the wonders of the adverb
10. She doesn't hold it against me when I mangle the English language
11. She always has her camera ready
12. She'll drink pink wine with me... and not think badly of me for it.
13. She has a movie quote for everything
14. Easy going, peace loving gal
15. She'll celebri-stalk with me
16. She'll go to an Everclear concert preggers, just to make me happy.
17. stylish
18. speaks my favorite language; snark
19. gets almost all my jokes
20. makes an incredible 7 layer dip (really, that stuff is phenom)
21. down with ditching the kids and hubbies to go have fun!
22. good sense of direction
23. glass half full kinda girl
24. recognizes obscure celebs
25. great Momma
26. loves Mexican (food at least)
27. keeps secrets well
28. understands accepts my deep obsession for Ralph Fiennes
29. Incredible writer
30. partys like a rockstar
31. wears underwear... most of the time. (just checking to see who's still with me)
32. Loyal
33. classy
34. kindest, bestest friend you could ask for.

Wow, that was easy... I've got more, but I'll have to wait for her next birthday.
Happy Birthday Bev.

(Disclaimer: This video DOES NOT apply to Bev.)

Monday, July 13, 2009

OK, So Not So Extreme...

...but I'll still chalk today's visit to the friendly hairdresser as a success. She advised me to go a little subtle and add more highlights if I want to later. I'm not sure if this picture does justice to the caramel goodness, but I like it. Thank you Bev for my hair-spiration.


That's all I got. Bev and I will be getting together on Wednesday to polish ourselves up for our weekend getaway to the Big Apple. And speaking of Bev, I'm totally stealing this little video from her. It totally made me laugh, snort and cry. By the way, I believe Bev and I own the patent on Sexy Face. I'm going to have to put a call in to my lawyer.


Police Slog Through 40,000 Insipid Party Pics To Find Cause Of Dorm Fire

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Life Is good



Joe took Morgan on a little Daddy/Daughter getaway to Martha's Vineyard for a few days, leaving Beck and I to enjoy a relaxing (read: Beck's just hangin' around in his skivvies) weekend.
Friday evening Beck and I planned a little dinner date, just the two of us. I even wore a dress (I know, two times in one week. It's some kind of record). I picked him up at pre-school and asked him where he wanted to take me. He replied, "McDonald's". After a bit of a discussion about never taking a lady (or me) out to dinner at the golden arches, we (OK, mostly me) decided on the new Japanese Steak House. I repeated over and over again "don't try that at home", as we watched our chef throw knives, slice and dice and light shit on fire. Beck even got the hang of using chop sticks. A fabulous dinner date with the boy, for sure.

Last night Beck, My dad and I went to the car races where again I chanted, "Don't try that at home". I had no clue when my Dad asked if we wanted to go see the Nitro cars race. Well, apparently Nitro cars burn like extra explosive jet fuel for the main purpose of blowing your eardrums out (oh and to go 300+ MPH). I was the only one who didn't realize this since we were the only people there without some sort of ear protection. So I had Beck cover his ears, then put his hood on while I placed my hands for another layer of protection for his ears. That seemed to work well... except not so much for my ears. What? Damn it! What is that ringing? Hearing loss aside, it was a really fun night. Watching Beck hoot and scream for the race cars was the best.
Here's a little video of one of the jet engine trucks... oh and do me a favor, pretend that I know how to hold my camera phone properly


So today Beck and I are in slow mode. I took advantage of the fact that Joe isn't home and thoroughly abused our lawn tractor by mowing the weeds (and several dozen rocks) in the horse pasture.

Meanwhile, Mr. Dee also took advantage of our lazy day by relaxing on the front lawn.


Life is good.

This also made me get all hot and bothered happy.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Mala From the Block

What with all the humidity and outright rain, I've been lookin' a little raggy lately and at wit's end, ready to just shave my head. So I placed my (hair) future in Bev's hands and gave her cart blanc to give me a new style... oh hell, who am I kidding? New style? That would require having a present style.... and I don't.

Plus Bev and I are fleeing traveling to NYC for a fabulous kid-free, hubby-free weekend on Friday. And who wouldn't want to look fab for that? plus Bev has warned me to get some style or she won't be seen in public with me.

Bev has been known to always rock the "rock star" 'do so I trust her fully (and threatened her with public embarrassment if she made me look like ass). My requirements are simple; A) Don't make me look like a 'tard B) NO SOCCER MOM HAIR CUTS!... other than that, she has free rein on cut and color.

This is her recommendation:

"I told Mala to go all J-Lo up in here. For real - she can pull off the JLo 'do. She's got a tan, and the same thick hair that can be either straight or curly (bitch), and I just think she can totally work the caramel highlights."



So what do you think? I have 11am appointment on Monday and I promise an update.

CREEPS

As if the run-in with the Hillbillies earlier this week wasn't creepy enough, I found myself meandering the interwebs and having this notion pop into my head that I should check on "The Waste of Oxygen Who Stalked Me" (hereby known as WOOWSM... naw, I'll just refer to him AHOLE).

Long story short, this creep served TWO prison sentences in FL for Aggravated Stalking. After serving his first sentence, he was back at it again and broke into my house, so back in he went. Thank goodness fate or guardian angels had me else where that night.

Before he was released from prison again, I moved... far, far away.

So the other night I just had that odd feeling I should perhaps check on the whereabouts of AHOLE. After a little Net-sleuthing, I discovered he is a guest of the New York Department of Corrections, serving a 5 year sentence for a breaking and entering and robbery at gun point charge. But because AHOLE, is, well, an A-HOLE, he's actually been there since 2003, released a couple of times but always managing to find his arse back in prison (where it belongs). However, after a little more digging, I discover he just had a parole hearing LAST WEEK (psychic much?) and has been granted release AGAIN! WTF?! Should we start a poll how long this AHOLE will go before he commits another crime? Seriously, is NY just seeing if next time he'll actually murder someone?

The good news is that per his probation requirements, he needs to stay in that local area. The bad news is he doesn't seem to follow directions well (ya think?) and NY is a little too close for my comfort.

So there's today's tale of psychic abilities and creepy encounters. I'm hoping next week's theme is a bit more cute and cuddly.... perhaps a little Ralph Fiennes in NYC? Please?! I've had my fill of creeps.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Close Encounters of The Deliverance Kind



So yesterday I found myself in the Great North Country; husband-less, child-less... just me and the sweet open road. So I decided to take a 2 1/2 hour side trip to see a little field in the middle of no where visit a historical site in Stark, NH.

I know what you're asking... "WTF?" "Mala, what's so interesting about this site that you'd drive all over creation to see it?" Well, you know I have mentioned I'm working on a book (or at least something I hope someday grows into a book), well my story, although fiction, historical fiction actually, takes place in a real place, and the remains of that place just happens to be a little field hours north of where I live. I've been doing research on this place for about a year but I have never had the opportunity to actually visit it. Oh sure, I've read historical books about it and I've Google Earth'd the hell out of it, but really I've just wanted to go there and see it for myself. So Sunday, since I didn't have anyone harassing the piss outta me was cruising solo, I decided I would finally make the trek.

So after a few hundred miles, much of which without any radio reception and cell phone coverage....yeah right!, I made my way north of the White Mountains, through towns that I can't figure out why on Earth anyone would live there, I finally made it to little, tiny, don't-blink-or-you'll-miss-it Stark. I drove north of the town until I found the little historical marker for Camp Stark. The road was long and not a soul on it. I pulled over and actually felt a little giddy for finally being at this special little spot. I'm a very visual person and to write a story based around this place, I desperately needed to see it, walk on it, breath it in.

I was wearing a skirt and heels (shut up! It happens every once in a while) so while sitting in the driver seat I wiggled and maneuvered into some jeans and sneakers since I needed to hike through some woods to get to my destination. At the half way point of undressed and public nudity, a seedy pickup zipped past me. I immediately saw the break lights. "oh shit" I thought.

Panic does not make jeans go on faster, especially with a steering wheel in your way.

I watched as the pick up made a u-turn in the middle of the road. I told you, middle-o-nowhere'sville! I started chanting "shit! shit! shit!" like it would help me get dressed faster. And as the truck passed again they banged another sharp left and pulled up behind me. I scrambled for my sneakers and totally felt like I had been busted for doing something immoral... geesh.

So the next part of this story I'm ashamed to even admit... I got out of the car and walked to the truck. In my defense, I was totally thinking it was someone who assumed I was broken down. I mean, why else would a female all by her lonesome anybody be pulled over on the side of a deserted road hours away from civilization.

That 'oh hell' moment hit me as soon as I looked in the cab.

I now know what this kid looks like as a grownup. Oh and he brought his even less attractive cousin.

I thought for a moment, would it be socially unacceptable to just saunter back to my car without a word?

"I'm all set. Just stopped to read the sign" I said... you know, totally assuming still they were just being good Samaritans.

"Why don't you come home with us?", one of them said. I couldn't tell which one because the sonic wave of alcohol stench made me close my eyes tightly and brace myself. Oh. My. Hell.

As I turned to walk back to my car I could here them slurring, "Where you from?" "She got NH plates." "You English?" "What you mean Great British?" "Lady, what are you?" "Why don't you come home with us?"

I closed my car door and hit the lock button. I looked around.... nothing but woods and mountains. I grab my cell phone and that bitch has been searching for service the past 43 miles. Great. One thing's for sure, scream all you want, no one is going to hear you. And it could take months to find a body... if they ever found the body. Oh, and for the first time in my life EVER, I hadn't told anyone where I was going. I had just been enjoying the peace and quiet. FML.

So I sat in my car, with Jeb and Earl parked right behind me. I didn't want to drive because I had the feeling they'd just follow. So I just sat there, pretending to be on my cell phone. And we all sat, like some creepy game of Hillbilly Chicken. Ten Freakin' Minutes later! they finally pulled up beside me and shouted "alright, bye then!" and drove off. Scary Mo'Fos!

I watched until the truck dissolved into a tiny speck and disappeared around the bend. And then I waited a few minutes to see if they'd turn around again.

Finally I got out of my car and trekked through the woods to the clearing I had driven so far to see. I looked back at the road, it was hardly visible. Could I see the truck if it came back? Probably not. Damn it!!! I've been wanting to come here for so long and now I'm here, it's a beautiful day.... and my skin is crawling. Every step deeper into the clearing in knee-high grass made my stomach turn more and more. Every cell in my body was screaming to leave. So I quickly took a few photos and literally dashed back to my car.

I had nearly a 3 hour drive home to stew and be angry at the fact I didn't get to experience this historical area at all. No, instead it got ruined by some tooth-less, dirty, drunkhill billies!

But at least I'm still alive to be pissed. So I've got that going for me.