~attitude~

where am i again??

2006-09-18T21:32:00.000-07:00

vegas... san diego... and orlando - all in the past 3 weeks. i'm freakin beat.

how the hell is everyone?

A little too close for comfort...

2006-07-17T19:03:00.000-07:00

So, mom's house was one of the houses saved from the fire. A big thanks to all the firefighters - the fire reached the front porch, but they saved the house.

There are thunderstorms in the forecast though, which could cause extreme flooding, and Mom might have to evacuate again.

2006-07-12T00:29:00.000-07:00

And sometimes, you realize what's really important in life.

My mom won't know until tomorrow morning if her house is still standing, and my best friend's dad has a 50/50 chance of living through his upcoming bone marrow transplant.

And then, you think, maybe my life isn't really that bad.

2006-07-02T11:44:00.000-07:00

my family's effing crazy. and i have 5 days off. and my birthday's on wednesday.

Because I can.

2006-05-08T21:42:00.000-07:00

The girls and I in the San Deezy fo sheezy. And then... there's Ali (and the drunkass roomie). I'm just too cool for my own good.

No Title, Dammit.

2006-04-05T18:38:00.000-07:00

So you know when you've got it down, you know what's going on, you think you have eeeevvverything under control, and then WHACK! You get a big fucking slap in the face?

Yeah. That's pretty much how today went.

But I got a new job. So that's pretty cool.

Holy shit it's ME!

2006-03-28T19:53:00.000-08:00

Sooooo.....

Yes, I'm still alive. Yes, they've blocked pretty much every site imaginable at work. Oh, and work? Sucks. Big fat ones. But I'm in the midst of fixing that.

Anyway, I got shit to do, but I just wanted to leave a little reminder of me... and my little sis who is now the big two-one (we celebrated in Vegas, of course):

Oh, and while in Vegas, we went to the fight...

and saw Vargas get his ass BEAT:

And we basically just drank a lot...

and gambled a lot...

and somehow I woke up with $400 in my pocket one morning and I didn't even remember gambling. And I bought some super hot shoes.

Yeah, that pretty much covers it.

12 hour days...

2006-01-31T22:05:00.000-08:00

do not a blogger make.

did that make sense?

work's been ridiculous, but good. i guess. it IS work, after all.

but, i HAVE been drinking the wine tonight. and that, my friends, is a verrrry good thing.

i miss all my peeps. you guys freakin rock.

but, seriously? vegas? i'll be there. in [notashortenoughtime], for the little sis' 21st birthday.

OH. it's on.

Warning - Open bar for 5 hours results in the following:

2005-12-20T21:59:00.000-08:00

They drank...
...and they drank
...and they (still) drank

...until the (5 star) hotel ran out of alcohol and had to go buy more.

And then they kept drinking.

And then their boss laughed at them on Monday.

2005-12-19T22:31:00.000-08:00

so the surgery went well. grandma's in CCU until she stabilizes. The lady is frikkin superwoman. they're still watching her, but hopefully things will turn out okay. thank you for all your thoughts and prayers and the like.

so, last night.

2005-12-18T22:50:00.000-08:00

was my christmas, er, HOLIDAY party, for work. and i got drunk. wierd.

so it was at the bacara, and it was fucking awesome.

we walked down the stairs to a bubble-filled room and boys in tuxedos holding trays of champagne.

open bar for 5 hours.

shall i continue?

we drank like it was our job. i made $2000 in fake money and STILL didn't win the trip to tahiti. fuck.

but i DID take a $130 cab ride home. yes, $130. i don't want to talk about it.

and? i have glass in both of my feet. because i refuse to wear heels, so i took them off, and some drunkass broke a glass on the dance floor. sweet. it feels really good. let me tell you.

so. it was open bar and i drank bud light all night. oh, and my sister freaked my boss. twice. the end.

2005-12-15T22:28:00.000-08:00

So, even if you don't pray, or believe in God, or whatever, please keep Grandma in your thoughts on Monday.

The surgery has been postponed until then. They're going to clean out the arteries throughout her neck, because if they don't, a stroke is extremely likely. She jokes that they are going to "slit her throat," because they have to go in through her neck.

There is a huge chance that she won't make it through the surgery, so please just keep her in your thoughts for me.

At least she's still laughing.

seriously? wtf?

2005-12-14T21:36:00.000-08:00

grandma's in the hospital. she has to have surgery friday to clear her arteries so blood can get to her brain, and even then, who knows what could happen.

and? the fuckers at the hospital didn't give her her medicine (as in, like, 12 different heart medications) until she'd already been in the hospital for 2 days, her lungs filled up with fluid, she couldn't breathe, and almost died. i could kill them.

i REALLY don't want to have to write another post like the one below.

this fucking blows.

2005-12-01T21:00:00.000-08:00

I like to think I'm a tough girl. That I can take on the world.

For the most part, I am, and I can.

But I can't fucking handle it when I see my Dad cry.

My Grandpa Joe died this morning.

I wasn't that close to my Grandpa. There should have been a lot more effort, on both of our parts. He left my Grandma when my Dad was 13, and never really looked back.

He, unknowingly, is one of the reasons our family is so close now. Grandpa never really made an effort to get to know any of us, let alone his own children. My Dad vowed that he wouldn't turn out the same way. And he hasn't. He has been the best Dad anyone could ask for. He is one of my best friends.

Some people say to watch out for "Daddy's Girl."

I'm proud that I'm Daddy's Girl.

My Dad has been through so much, yet he's somehow always there for me.

A little history.

My Dad was buried in a ditch when he was 20. Under 30 feet of dirt. He was working his summer job, and the ditch collapsed. He should have died. For some reason, he was meant to live.

My Dad lost his sister to alcoholism. She was found in her room, surrounded by 7 empty bottles of vodka. His brother disappeared for 16 years, and resurfaced 3 years ago, his brain fucking fried from 35 years of drug use. The other two sisters are still around, but aren't close. If you know what I mean.

My Dad could have taken pity on himself and gone the wrong direction, but he didn't. He chose to learn from the shit he experienced, and made something of himself.

I admire my dad not for what he's been through, but for how he reacted to it and learned from it. Some people think the world owes them a fucking living. It doesn't.

Everybody has their shit. No family is perfect. Mine is no different.

My Dad broke down at dinner tonight. He tries to act all strong, like this doesn't bother him. But I know it does. He just lost his dad.

I think he still expected Grandpa to try to make more of an effort. To apologize for leaving. Something. Anything.

But he didn't. And I think my Dad's still angry about that.

Death is a very strange thing. It's amazing, the emotions it evokes. It changes your world, yet we grow so much from it

My eyes hurt from crying. It's weird to comfort your Dad. He tried to apologize that we come from such a "fucked up family." Maybe we do. But either way, that's our family, and it's helped shape who I am today.

But then again, everyone's got their shit, right?

2005-11-29T19:06:00.000-08:00

me and the bros and sisters and cuzins on turkey day.

eff you too, man

oh, and, this is where i get it.

2005-11-27T01:05:00.000-08:00

So. My week.

Wednesday was a good friend's birthday. Met up with her and the friends, got my ass kicked in beer pong (I know, I know), which meant drinking a 40 in, oh, FIVE MINUTES. Yeah. Not so much.

Big bro met up with me dowtown (after the birthday girl done gone and passed the fuck out). Drank quite a few of those loverly drinks (Flat Tire minus the L). Went to the parents house when the bars closed... and stepmomma made us some mean ham and cheese (dang) quesadillas. She loves us, she really does.

Woke up the next morning not knowing where the fuck I was (the parent's couch? how did i get there?).

And then Turkey Day began.

Now, you see, my stepfamily is Italian. Which means they lika da juice. No. They REALLY lika da juice.

We went through quite a bit of wine on Thursday. Probably enough to keep the recyclers in business for a year.

We listened to Peter Tosh (legalize it - don't criticize it) during dinner. And the Catholic grandma didn't even notice. It was awesome. The brother and the little cuz made masks out of plastic dinnerware by burning forks into plates. The uncle was dancing with a turkey bone.

I never said we weren't crazy.

After dinner (when the REAL festivities began), the stepmomma went to put the Catholic grandma in the sister's car, so she could take her home. A car that happened to black, like my sister's, and one that also happened to be unlocked. Except it wasn't my sister's car. It was the neighbor's.

And then... we played Pictionary. And learned that my sister has psychic powers, and that my ten-year-old cousin knows what a hand job is, yet was baffled by the word "hammock."

His mother just about started crying. Apparently he asked what a "douchebag" was the other day. Oh, and he knows every word of Dr. Dre's old shit. He fucking rocks.

I think I might have pictures coming. We'll see if they look as good sober as they did after 3 bottles of wine.

The roof, the roof...

2005-11-20T21:04:00.000-08:00

So... my weekend.

I have more pictures coming, In the meantime, these will have to do...

There was a fire in Ventura on Friday. One that hit a little too close to home.

Literally.

That map up above? Towards the bottom, right next to Ventura High School, where Poli St. is? Like an inch from the fire line? The parents live one street up from that. They had their shit packed and ready to go. A good friend of mine lives down the street from them, and the fire flared up three houses away from her.

Pretty fucking scary.

It freaks ya out a little bit when you call your parents from work to check on them, and they say they have to call you back because they're packing the car. Or when you can't get to their house because the police have it blocked off.

Anyway, in true Ali form, we sat in my friend's backyard Friday night, drank beers, and watched the hot firemen as they changed shifts (that was after convincing the cops to let me onto her street - a boob shot always helps, right?). At this point, the fire's pretty much contained, they're just watching it to make sure it doesn't flare up again. Fingers crossed, people.

Saturday, went paintballing. It fucking hurt.

But I totally rock. I was one of 3 girls who played. The other 40 were guys. And I kicked some ass. But I do have some fat bruises. Cheap shots from the other girl who went with me. Biatch. Inner thigh, man. It really did fucking hurt. The bruise is the size of my hand. I did learn, however, that I could never survive in a war. I "died" within the first 3 seconds of the first game. But I caught on after that. Pulled some mean sniper action in the "jungle" game. Took a few mofo's OUT.

Saw a friend's band play after that, played some Hold 'Em till about 3 this morning, then went to the Clippers game today. They kicked ass. Never been a big Clippers fan, but since Kobe thinks he's Michael Jordan and the Lakers are sucking this year, I'm hoping at least one LA team can represent at the playoffs.

EB fucking rocked, Kaman came up with the wingspan, Fish couldn't hit a 3 to save his life (traitor), and Richardson pulled off a badass 360 dunk (even though Golden State hadn't scored in, like, 5 minutes).

I should be an announcer. In yo face, bitches.

After the game, we went to Hennessy's (Hermosa), ate some dinner, drank some beer, and then sat in traffic pretty much the whole way home.

And that, my friends, is your one-page report on my weekend.

Oh, and, PS? I'm drunk.

Dearest Blogger,

2005-11-16T21:11:00.000-08:00

I have a confession to make.

I've been cheating on you with MySpace.

I know, I know, it's juvenile, but it's so easy. You, you're a lot of work.

We've had some great times in the past, but I think we need a break.

And I gotta go now. The Lakers are playing.

Love,

Ali

I am NOT a drunkass.

2005-10-30T21:26:00.000-08:00

We took over the world on Saturday. The End.

Dude.

2005-10-21T19:50:00.000-07:00

i'm drunk. And i'm going out. Good thing i don't have emost of your numbers. cuz i'd be calling your ass.

Sex Par-tays and Such

2005-10-16T10:48:00.000-07:00

I went to a Passion Party Friday night. The host gets you all liquored up, they show you a bunch of crazy sex toys, give you little plastic penises, you're drunk so you buy stuff, and then you forget what you buy. In my case, at least. [turnsoutiboughtsomemcoolstuff]. And then you go out to the bars, take pictures of you licking the little plastic penis, and send them to boys. The pictures, not the penises.

And? It's not the best idea to go out to the bars after these types of par-tays. Boys are trouble. Especially for girls who just came from a sex party. I'm just sayin.

Soooo. I thought this boy was cute last night. I knew him from high school. Then I found out he "wouldn't be afraid to hit a girl." Um, not so much.

Oh, and apparently I'm not THAT hard up for it these days, because I totally played the game last night. I received the following text last night, after asking what this "gentleman" (i say that in the most sarcastic way possible) was doing: "Chilling. Gotta work tomorrow, so laying low on the cocktails. Hopin you'd want me to cum over and fuck you."

Okay, can we talk about this for a sec?

1. Do you REALLY think that's hot? And that it will work? (I take that back. For some girls, it might totally work)

2. Note the spelling of "cum." UM, we are not writing pornos here. Or did i miss that memo?

3. This is the same "gentleman" who tried to use this line. This guy's got game. Oh yes he does.

4. On his behalf, we have had relayshuns before. BUT? At least PRETEND you are interested in me for my mind (it's the mind, right?), or some bullshit like that. I'm not THAT easy.

Carpe deez nuts.

Soooo.

2005-10-12T21:05:00.000-07:00

I was going to swim tonight. Instead, I drank wine. Good for the heart. Right?

There was this girl I used to know. I say "used to" because she passed away last week.

We had a party once, when the parents were out of town.

It was about 3 o'clock. We were drinking beers, hanging out. I was in high school. Probably should have been AT school.

The girl came over with her boyfriend. Dude was a first class asshole. To the core. Total disrespect for women. Total disrespect for everything and everyone. Thought it made him cool.

We were hanging out in the backyard, enjoying the fact that every one of us should have been at school, but were instead drinking beers. Ahhh.

Dude and The Girl got in an argument. Started yelling at each other. Words escalated into shit that should not have been said.

I forget exactly what he told her, but it was one of those moments where everyone stops to see what's going to happen next.

She poured a beer on his head.

He kneed her in the mouth.

Then he hugged her.

Then she punched him in the face.

Friends broke it up. Blood was pouring from her mouth. I ran inside.

They cleaned her up and kicked him out.

I went to the store, and when I came back, he was waiting on our porch. I was afraid to approach him, for fear I would hit him. And that he would hit me back.

He tried to convince me to let him back in. Saying how sorry he was. Saying that he just wanted to apologize to everyone.

I told him to fuck off. I was shaking I wanted to hit him so bad. I had never wanted to hurt someone so badly in my life. I still haven't.

He pleaded and pleaded. I was afraid to open the front door and go in, I thought he would force his way in after me. I asked him why he thought I would actually everinmyfuckinglife even THINK about letting him back in my house. I told him if that if I did, it would be to clean his girlfriend's blood off my patio. And I asked him why he felt the need to beat her. He said he couldn't control himself. That he loved her so much he needed hit her. I told him he needed help. He looked up at me with the saddest eyes in the world, nodded, and walked away.

This girl wasa amazing. She had issues that continued to haunt her. Until last week.

I suck

2005-10-07T08:08:00.000-07:00

(just don't tell anyone)

I used to be really (somewhat) cool and blog all the time. Now, not so much.

The new job is kicking my ass, but it's cool.

You guys can always shoot me an email, at my hotmail address: allie1245@hotmail.com

Peace.

Hi guys!

2005-09-22T18:28:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I really miss this daily blogging thing. EVERYTHING is monitored at the new job, so I apologize to those of you I haven't sent emails to. And, there will be absolutely no blogging during work hours. Sucks.

But? The job fucking ROCKS. Before you know it, this will be known as the marketing manager's blog. Ok, maybe in like, 3 or 4 years, but still. One can dream, right?!

I acquired 5 new Pony hats today, for the best price - FREE. Three beanies and two bitchin hats. Ah, the perks. And it's only the second day.

Anyway, I'll try to update as often as I can. The commute sucks, but I'm loving the job so far.

I almost thought I'd miss this place.

2005-09-20T14:02:00.000-07:00

But then I remembered, "Oh yeah. This place sucks big fat ones."

And then Creepfest molested me with his eyes.

And then irate idiots bothered me all morning (because, you know, the new job is idiot-free and all).

And then I looked at the pile of pointless paperwork (a-li-li-literation) that I can now just hand off to CF (sucka).

And then I realized that I'm really only going to miss one thing about this place.

Getting paid to blog.

We are SO cool.

2005-09-20T09:39:00.000-07:00

There might be alot of posts today. Just warning you.

I am not going to blog from the new job, seeing as I actually would like to advance, and actually give a shit about it. This current one, not so much.

Soooo. No more daily blogging. Maybe at night. But no more of these "ten posts a day because I'm bored and my job is a joke." I have a REAL job now! (That's kind of scary)

Anyway, sometimes I wonder how two so totally different people, such as my sister and I, could have come from the same womb. And then she does something like this. And I wonder no more.

Um, HOLY SHIT.

2005-09-19T12:39:00.000-07:00

I got the job. I start Wednesday.

WOW.

Well there goes your social life.

2005-09-18T18:27:00.000-07:00

I. AM. DRUNK.

Happy Sunday.

Today started at Tacos N Beer [theplacewiththestickersonthewindowinsteadofarealsign]. $2.50 Dos Equis in tap, YO.

Then, to Winchester's for pitchers. Then, to Bernadette's for the band and beers and crazy old dudes.

Then, to Ferraro's for bad-ass EYE-talian foods. Mmmm.

And? THE interview tomorrow. The daily posts might stop, but Ali won't.

Um, so yeah.

2005-09-16T08:55:00.000-07:00

I was in the most fabulous mood until about... now. When Creepfest started spouting off about nonsense again. You guys seriously would want to strangle him too, if you heard him. Maybe I'll record him one day and audioblog. If I knew how to audioblog.

Oh, and another thing? The roomie's cat had fleas, and we had some company come in and spray, and we thought they were gone. And then I found a little fucker on my sweater this morning.

Anyway, why I am (was) in such a fabulous mood. I applied at this company. Like, the ONE and ONLY company I want to work for right now. Tuesday they called me to set up an interview for Thursday. The interview yesterday was GREAT. My interviewers could not have been older than 28 each, and we were all just laughing the entire time. They said they would be diong callbacks next week, and if I made the "final cut," I would then meet with the owners and CEO, who would have the final say in my hire.

Um, they called me at 3:00 yesterday. To set up an interview for Monday to meet with the owners.

Yes, people, if Monday goes well, I might actually have a real job. Holy Shit.

Dear Creepfest:

2005-09-14T10:59:00.000-07:00

For the love of God. Just shut the fuck up.

Eeeeeeee!

2005-09-14T10:29:00.000-07:00

I have reallyreallyreally exciting news [atleasttomeitis], but I don't want to share just yet because I don't want to jinx it. If all goes well, I will spill tomorrow.

Just wish me good luck in the meantime.

So, the Ladder Theory.

2005-09-13T16:16:00.000-07:00

I posted about it over here.

And I just got Doritos on my keyboard.

2005-09-13T13:49:00.000-07:00

Today is Ryan's birthday. He would have been 26.

Kel and I went to his grave today. The workers were putting a coffin back in the ground 2 feet from us. It was an old wooden one, kind of falling apart. It gave me the chills.

Today sucks. I'm okay the majority of the time. I wear his earrings on a chain around my neck, and I don't get teary anymore when someone asks me about them. But days like today just plain suck.

We listened to this song today on the way back from the grave. It just made me cry more. But it's a fucking great song.

P.S. I can't say no.

2005-09-13T11:09:00.000-07:00

Last night was our 8 year anniversary party for the restaurant. I wasn't going to go. And then I decided to go. For one beer.

And then I had another.

And another.

And one more.

And then Jager.

And then car bombs [twoofthem][backtoback].

And then another Fat Tire.

All on Outback and my Jackass Boss.

Thanks, Outback and Jackass Boss [threemoredaysbitch].

Oh yeah, and one of my good friends, who dated another one of my good friends, and was engaged to said good friend, totally tried to make out with me.

I'll go into my take on the Ladder Theory at a later date.

Who's the big winnnnner.

2005-09-12T11:11:00.000-07:00

So I have tickets to this on Friday, and not one goddamned person will pick up my shift so I can go.

Fuckers. And I have too much of a conscience to call in sick.

So this weekend consisted of trying on bridesmaid dresses, fucking around in the bar and getting $50 tips and customer compliments for it, midnight pool parties, naked hot tubbing (haha Brian I do it too), having (great) relations, walking like I just learned how at work last night, and trying to figure out the origin of my not-so-mystery bruises.

Fun stuff.

So, like, I'm still in it and shit.

2005-09-09T11:34:00.000-07:00

I'm not sayin' it's gonna be good, but I'm in. Fuck.

So, that word verification shit? It's a load of crap. I'm with ya on that one, Ty. Or Tblue. Or Tyrell. Or whatever the hell you're name is.

So can I just say that wine makes cleaning SO much more fun? Because it does. Big House Red. Screw top. I know, I know, wtf is up with the screw top? Well, considering their tagline is "Remember to Screw," I couldn't pass it up.

And, this weekend? Nothing special. Working tonight, opening bar. So, more than likely, I'll be drinking by 7:30pm. Which may not seem early to you guys, but that's HUGE in the restaurant world. Oh, and did I mention that I put my two weeks in? Yippee Kay Yay Mother Fuckers. Wow. That has so much more meaning when it's CAPITALIZED.

My cousin and my aunt are coming down from San Luis Obispo tomorrow so we can look at wedding dresses.

And then I work. And then I'm going to a friend's birthday party. Maybe we'll have cake and ice cream. Who am I kidding? We're gonna drink beer and go midnight swimming. Mmm.

And Sunday. Probably working. If not, there will be brunch, and much champagne, and many stories on Monday. But I'll probably be scheduled to work.

I drink wine by myself and clean my house. I am so cool.

I take some time off and this is what I get?

2005-09-08T09:48:00.000-07:00

"Hey Ali,
Okay, so, like I'm totally mad at you for not posting anymore. I don't think we can be blog friends. And I know that kills you but yeah, I'm serious."

Shit.

Mel, I still lurve you, I hope we can stil be blog friends, I promise I won't let you down, is there anything else I can say to make you still like me, oh, and, yeah, we are TOTALLY going to Vegas. P.S.

Until further notice...

2005-09-06T10:53:00.000-07:00

this shit will be on hold.

I'm not feeling it lately. I'm thinking of printing the whole thing out and deleting.

In the meantime, I'll still be reading. And commenting like the whore that I am [okaynotreallyawhore].Don't you worry about that, my peeps.

I'll be guest posting over at Internet Addiction Word Therapy every once in awhile, so look for me there if it's really that important to you.

This might last 5 minutes, it might last forever. I'm just fickle like that.

And, um, check me out, getting all dramatic and shit.

I don't know what to do with myself

2005-09-02T10:24:00.000-07:00

I have tonight off. And I didn't even ask for it. Pays to sleep with the dude who does the schedule, huh? (If I really was, I'd have Monday off, too)(KIDDING). As in, NO WORK. NO serving idiots. NO wishing death upon my boss. NO playing catch-up with my already drunk friends once I do get off work.

Oh, the possibilities. So far all I have planned is Happy Hour at Eric Ericsson's, on the pier. Mojitos, anyone? (Ty's got me craving 'em now)

Day Three. Because I am a Drunkass.

2005-09-01T10:10:00.000-07:00

Check out Day One and Day Two before you read this, please. And for furthur clarification (Sterno, Stace, Exile), this trip took place last year. I am writing about it now because I didn't have a blog then, and I felt horrible withholding yet another of my drunk tales from you all ("y'all." sorry).

So, Day Three.

We wake up. Do the ritual Bloody Mary breakfast. Go back to bed for a few hours. Wake up again. This time, a little less drunk. Back to Outback to rape the bosses once more for the discount. Another $200 dinner. And lots of martinis.

Buy some tallboys. Walking down the Strip, four classy ladies with Coors Lights. Awesome. Don't really have a plan of action, other than to get drunk(er). We're supposed to leave the next morning, so we're on a mission.

We get stuck at the outdoor bar at Harrah's, watching the shirtless hotties make drinks and spin them around and light them on fire (the drinks, not the hotties). Marketing at its finest. I bought a drink. That'll be $12 please. Last drink I buy at your bar, fucker. I don't care if you're a shirtless hottie.

We find some boys. My friends tell me they're gay, I am convinced they're not (they are). They video tape us for their "movie." They are four boys on a trip across the United States. Our segment was probably titled, "Check Out the Drunk Girl(s) From Cali. They Think We're Straight."

Said boys are now our new best friends. We go from casino to casino to bar to casino to liquor store to bar. We. are. drunk.

We end up at some casino. MGM, I think. We play for awhile, lose the gay (straight) guys, and call a cab. Oh wait, we drove. Shit. Egg gets the car, we pile in. We're driving down Flamingo, going back to our hotel, which is about 6 miles from the strip. We get to a five point intersection, and Egg is not sure which way to go. We tell her left. She goes left. Rigth into the oncoming left hand turn lane. All our drunk asses start screaming hysterically, while Egg turns around and tells us to calm the fuck down.

"You just have to bust the hazards, guys. Geez."

So, with the hazards busted, she calmly makes a U-turn (thank god it was 6am and no one was on the road), and we continue on our way. A little further down, a car speeds past us. FAST. After that, a cop. Another cop. Shit. We're in the middle of a chase. The car turns right. The cops turn right. We turn right. Um, why do we turn right, you ask? Why, because we are "helping" the police, of course!

We come into a residential area, where the car is crashed into a tree, and the driver's door is flung open. The dude took off. We decide we are going to find him (because, in our minds, four drunk girls will do a MUCH better job finding a criminal than the cops, you know?). We drive around the neighborhood, only to turn down a street barricaded by 15 cop cars. We got the fuck outta there REAL fast.

Back to the hotel. Earlier, Egg and Tostito had gotten oxygen-ized at the Oxygen Bar, and, got to keep their little air-tube-nose-mask thingies. Egg, ever the p-o-t-head, decided she wants to smoke through the air tube thingie. She has Amie blow the smoke through the tube, and Egg inhales through her nose. Cool. We're all just hanging out, saying we should PROBABLY go to bed, as I have to be at work at nine, and it is now 7:30. Newsflash. It takes more than an hour and a half to drive back from Vegas. You're not making it to work, Ali.

Back to Egg. All of a sudden, her eyes drop. Within 5 seconds she was STONED. I don't smoke that much, but this shit was HILARIOUS. She kept pointing to her forehead, between her eyes, saying "I can feel it right here! It's in my BRAIN!"

Funny shit.

So I didn't make it to work that day.

Day Two

2005-08-31T09:24:00.000-07:00

Day One takes the cake so far. Day Two was not nearly as exciting, yet still fun.

We all woke up around 11am, and tried to eat breakfast. All we were brave enough to try were Bloody Mary's. We drank our lovely concoctions and went back to bed for a few hours. Then, it was off to Outback on the Strip so we could rape our bosses with our discounts. Since all of us worked at Outback at home, we all got the 50% discount. Mmmm. Four appetizers, steak, lobster, and countless drinks later, we received our bill. $250, but for us $180 (alcohol is not discounted. bastards.)? We'll take it. I vaguely remember talking shit to the owner because he wouldn't put the Laker game on for us. He eventually did, probably to shut me up. We finished our dinner and drinks, and headed down to O'Shea's, my favorite little ghetto casino. Amie and I planned to play for a couple hours, then move on. Um, 8 hours later, we were still playing at the same table. Of course, by this time, we were completely trashed. Martinis and beer at dinner, followed by numerous rum and cokes at the table, we were done.

We went back to our hotel (I ride in style, bitches), and decided we weren't done. We played craps until Amie won us breakfast. It was about 8 am by now, so we went and ate our "free" breakfast, and hit the sack.

Day Three to follow. It's much more exciting, I promise.

Dude

2005-08-30T16:20:00.000-07:00

My dad's trying out for Jeopardy. September 9th is the big day. My sister signed him up as a joke, but now we've convinced him to actually do it. He's really nervous. Which is SO NOT my dad. Those two words do not go in the same sentence.

So we all (sister, bro-in-law, and I) take turns text messaging him "I'll take Russian History for $500, Alex."

He doesn't think it's very funny.

Another drunk story for y'all.

2005-08-30T13:41:00.000-07:00

Where: Vegas, baby, Vegas. N.E.R.D & Black Eyed Peas concert, Hard Rock Hotel, @ The Joint
When: Last year, March I think
Why: I won a trip at a work party. Sweet.
Who: Amie, Egg (Erin), Tostito (Kristen), Myself

This is the condensed version.

Drank tallboys on the way there. Dad, being the wonderful Dad that he is, bought us a 1.75 liter bottle of Skyy. That's a big fucking bottle. Arrived in Vegas around 3pm. Made and drank many martinis. We were staying in an old person's hotel, figured we had to liven the place up. Went downstairs and gambled and yelled for a bit. Won a little money.

Went to the show at Hard Rock. Found some boys who kept buying us Jager bombs. Now drinking for 6 hours straight, hard alcohol. Amie and Tostito got pulled aside. Thought they were going backstage. Were told that if they didn't settle down, we'd be asked to leave (in fucking Vegas!). Pretended to settle down. For 5 minutes. Concert continued. More Jager bombs. Concert ends.

We're gambling. Somehow I end up with Tostito's purse, but she's nowhere to be found. So I start gambling her money. Win some. Lose some. Find Tostito. She's with a dude who's giving her money as he's winning it. Lots of it. He takes us up to the Penthouse in Hard Rock. The one on Cribs. Bowling lane, full bar, spa, 12 rooms, big (fucking) screen TV. Overlooking all of Vegas.

I start bowling. More jager shots. Amie points out one of the Black Eyed Peas. I, in true drunken splendor, yell his name (Prinz, the trumpet player. The others were downstairs eating). He comes over, takes us down to gamble. He's leaving and coming back with numerous black chips. We go back upstairs before they can kick us off the tables (I was throwing the dice off the table and shit). Hang out some more. We leave the penthouse, Egg found "some groupie bitch's shoes." Sweet! We're out. We walk out. I realize I don't have any shoes on. The bitch stole her own friend's shoes. We are awesome.

Downstairs, we see the rest of the Peas, eating at Lucky's. They invite us back to their room. By this point, I am a zombie, and it is 7am. 14 hours of drinking and Ali do not mix. Being the good girls we are, we declined. Rather, the others declined for me. I wasn't coherent enough to realize what was going on. I really did think it was a dream when I woke up the next day. The girls assured me it wasn't.

And so concludes Day One of The Vegas Trip.

I hate Tag

2005-08-30T10:00:00.000-07:00

I hated playing Tag as a little kid. I was always It and always lost. Now, Freeze Tag, that's another story. I ruled at that game.

Jesus I get sidetracked so easily.

The Pink Kitty tagged me. I have to do this "Seven" thing. I'm not really sure of the rules, but I'm not too fond of rules in the first place, so I'm doing it my own way.

"Seven" Stuff

Seven things I do daily:

1. Embarrass myself in some way, shape, or form.
2. Say something ridiculous that embarrasses me (i.e. "Is it snowing in Michigan?" - in AUGUST)
3. Get dirty looks from people in my building for driving too fast in the parking lot.
4. Wish death upon Creepfest aka My Cousin/Coworker Who Stares At My Boobs.
5. Read blogs instead of working.
6. Wish I had the guts to "accidentally" let my roommate's flea-infested nasty-ass cat out of the apartment. I prefer dogs.
7. Say I'm going to clean my room.

Seven places I've been:

1. Florida
2. New York (it was for a layover, but that still counts, right?)
3. Michigan
4. Connecticut/Massachussets
5. Vegas/Laughlin
6. Missouri (don't ask)
7. Bermuda (best trip EVAH)

Seven things I've done that some people might think are cool:

1. Ran down the Ventura Pier naked (in front of 30 fisherman), jumped off, and swam back.
2. Had relations on my sister's living room floor. And accidentally left some evidence. That my brother in law found.
3. Showed boobies at Mardi Gras in San Diego for some dude's video.
4. Showed boobies at Laughlin last week. For shots.
5. Tried to "help" the cops in Vegas find a dude who ran from them.
6. Got drunk and played limbo on a private island in Bermuda.
7. Danced in cages.

Seven colors my hair has been:

1. Kool Aid Pink
2. Orange (Strawberry blonde gone wrong. Way wrong.)
3. VERY dark brown
4. Bright red (punk rock red, basically maroon)
5. Blonde
6. Green (chlorine)
7. Blonde, red, and brown striped

Seven things in my underwear drawer:

1. Panties (very minimal. I hate wearing them)
2. Naked pictures of my cop friend with his badge on his bare ass
3. Chips from various casinos in Vegas
4. Lingerie teddy type thing
5. Boy shorts for sleeping
6. Sports bras
7. A wine cork (It's me. Need you even ask?)

Seven things I absolutely love (not necessarily in this order):

1. Water polo
2. Good beer
3. Good wine
4. My stepmom's Italian cooking
5. My family and friends. I got hooked up.
6. Snowboarding
7. A great book I can't put down

Okay I'm done. Hopefully this entertains some of you. If not, go read someone else's blog.

I guess I could actually think, for once,

2005-08-30T09:11:00.000-07:00

and write something of substance. Rather than just posting a boob shot.

Ah, who am I kidding.

Anyway. Friday, opened bar. Went out for Erin's birthday after. It was way too fucking crowded at Dargan's, so we all went over to Amie's house for some beer pong. Except since all I had to eat on Friday was a sashimi salad (all day), I was wasted after 4 beers. Kept drinking. Got stoopid. Literally. Amie was talking about her trip to Michigan, and mentioned something about shoveling snow in the winter, and yours truly says, "Is it snowing there right now?" Ummm. It's August, Ali, just in case you didn't get the memo. I got the "Are you fucking retarded" look from just about everyone. As soon as I said it I realized how dumb it was. Duh. Then I went home and posted boobies.

Saturday I helped Amie set up her classroom (she got a full time teaching position), ate the biggest and greasiest burrito evah, then went to work. The boss was on a rampage, so that sucked. Went to ---- TIME OUT. Hottest man EVER just walked into my office. Fuck.
Okay I'm back. Saturday after work went to a friend's house, played more beer pong, got drunk, went midnight swimming, tried to watch Spaceballs, went to bed. Hung out in the pool all day Sunday, went to work Sunday night. Fun, fun, fun.

Okay Hot Man is talking to me. Gotta go.

Dontcha

2005-08-27T03:00:00.000-07:00

Just call me grace.

2005-08-26T09:34:00.000-07:00

I fell yesterday. Hard.

I was getting in the shower and my feet slipped out from under me. I tried to catch myself, decided I couldn't, hit my face on the shower door, caught my foot on the shower rail, and landed on one knee. It was awesome. Except it hurt like a motherfucker. I now have a knot on my cheek, a bruised knee and foot, and a pulled arm muscle.

Because I am awesome (just like Melissa).

Anyway, it's fucking gorgeous out today. I am opening the bar, then out in Ventura to meet up with the girls to celebrate Egg's birthday. I would link her, but she doesn't update anymore. You heard me, Erin. You're going down tonight. Shots, shots, shots, girlie.

And that Venti iced latte is making me one jittery biatch.

Dear Creepfest:

2005-08-25T11:54:00.000-07:00

You're staring at my boobs again. Didn't your momma tell you not to stare? [especiallyifyou'rerelatedtothepersontheboobsbelongtoyousicko]

I'm giving you a head start. Run, fucker.

I'm planning your untimely death.

And... I'm done

2005-08-24T09:48:00.000-07:00

I have none of the funny today. Or yesterday. Probably not tomorrow either.

Got my shift covered yesterday afternoon. Went to sushi with Kel. Went to Eric Ericsson's on the pier with Kel, the sister, and the bro-in-law. Had a couple drinks. Went to dinner at the parents house and told them all about our trip.

Upon coming back from the most awesomerad trip evah (minus the Vegas trip last year, ladies), I have realized how much I hate my day job. And, how much I despise working nights (at the restaurant, perverts. I gave up the street job years ago). Oh yeah, and I missed the first week and a half of school. Um, not just the first day, but the first WEEK AND A HALF. I am all. fucking. over. it.

Which means I'll probably be at this stupid day job for another few months doing BITCH WORK until the spring semester starts (and please, no suggestions to start school this semester despite missing the first 5 classes. I don't like to start from behind)(Yes, I said "from behind.").

My biggest thing is I feel like I'm at a standstill. I don't REALLY know what I want to do when I grow up. I have an idea that I might want to work in marketing. I think I might want to write. Maybe something to do with that alcohol distributing thing.

And I'm not going anywhere at the moment. Yeah, I'm bartending at the restaurant, woofuckinghoo. So I can pour a damn drink. Where the hell will that take me, though, really?

Ideally? I want to open a bar. But that's a long way down the road. In the meantime, what the fuck to do?

what a fucking weekend

2005-08-23T10:39:00.000-07:00

I can't even begin to tell you how much fun the past four days were.

We left around 3 on Thursday afternoon and got to Laughlin around 10. We were the first ones at the house, which was a 5 minute drive from the lake. We set up what we could of our stuff, and started drinking. The four of us (myself, sister, bro-in-law, and Crystal) played Asshole for about 3 hours, until Hank and Misty got there (it was Hank's dad's house we were staying at). We all crashed around 1am.

Friday morning we lounged around, made breakfast, and waited for Amie and Cory (sister's other friends) to meet up with us. Between Hank's speedboat, Cory's ski boat, and Frank's waverunner, we were set. We packed everything up and headed to the river.

The rest of the day consisted of drinking, laying in the water, playing on the waverunner, wakeboarding, and just lounging.

That night we met up with Amie's sister and her friends at the Mexican restaurant on the strip (if you've been to Vegas, you would laugh that it's even called the "strip"). A couple of us girls met some boys who bought us shots, and offered to take us back to their room. Um, no. Thanks for the shots though. After dinner some of the group went out, the rest of us went back to the house. We were so wasted from being in the sun all day, drinking a shitload the night before, and drinking literally from the time we woke up until after dinner.

Saturday was much of the same. I got up on the wakeboard, being pulled from the waverunner. I am sore as hell, because instead of being pulled up out of the water, you are being pulled across it, and you kind of have to pull yourself up. I feel like someone used my body as a punching bag. I have random bruises EVERYWHERE. Who knows what they're from. My sister and I were joking that we should check ourselves into a battered women's clinic. I also tore the skin off one of my fingers, I think from the rope from the wakeboard. All I know is that I am a MESS.

We all went out Saturday night after another long day on the river. We started at Loser's Lounge, where Hot James (my sister's nickname for one of the hot boys who was with us) was buying them out of Coors Light. We drank and danced, and then moved onto the casinos. We gambled and drank more. My sister is a bad influence, man. We had been drinking Coors Lt all freaking day, then we decided to switch to Captain and Diets once we started gambling. You can only imagine how I felt the next day.

I digress.

We were WASTED. The sis and I, when we get together, are TROUBLE. We know no limits. At one point she was helping me try to find an ATM, so I could get more money out. We found what we THOUGHT was an ATM, and tried to get money out. We sat there for about five straight minutes, with me saying, "But I don't understand where my CARD goes!" before we realized it was a bill breaker, not an ATM. Duh.

The boys, by this point, were completely over us. They were ready to go, we were ready to party all freaking night. What? It's 4am? Oh no, there's still PLENTY of time to play! They finally convinced us to get in the car to go back to the house, and we went home.

Sunday we were on the river all day again. I haven't been this tan in a long time. Everyone was giving me shit, telling me to take my bathing suit off (which I LOST, by the way), because I got so much color it looks like I still have my suit on.

Sunday night was dinner and more gambling. How I am still alive, I don't know. My entire body hurts, and I have bruises everywhere. Oh yeah, and no money. But it was fun as hell. I'm ready to go back, if anyone's down.

I'm alive

2005-08-23T09:17:00.000-07:00

Barely. But I am breathing.

I have bruises over my entire body and I'm tan as all hell.

And I drank enough this weekend to intoxicate a small village.

More later.

Check ME out

2005-08-18T11:36:00.000-07:00

And check out Ty, too. I posted yet another tale from my drunken history over that-a-way.

For those of you just tuning in, I'm going to Laughlin for the next five days. For my loyal reader(s), feel free to slap me, as I have been bragging about this for way too long, I know.

If I was cool, I would have guest bloggers and shit for the days I am gone. Alas, I am not. So, enjoy the links on the sidebar or do whatever you did before I started this thing. Because I am SO fucking popular and all. No I know.

Listen to me. I'm getting all emotional and shit.

Just know that I will be drinking beers in my bikini for the next five days straight. And thinking about how much I miss you all. [okaymaybenotthatlastpart][noreallyiloveyouguysiwasjustkidding][iswear][areyousickofthebracketsyet?]

Thunderstorms?

2005-08-18T09:16:00.000-07:00

Are you fucking kidding me?

This is my VACATION, weather bitches. Knock that shit off.

So today,

2005-08-17T11:25:00.000-07:00

I have to: clean my house, do 5 hundred million loads of laundry, buy beer for Laughlin, pack, buy beer, buy food, pay bills, close the bar tonight, and buy beer.

I'll buy the beer, you guys take care of the rest. Deal?

So that no drinking thing?

2005-08-16T09:26:00.000-07:00

It lasted about 4 hours. And that's only because I was at work.

(Not like I was serious anyway)

And you know what's scary? When you're going to bed, and you think, "Cool. I'll still get 4 hours of sleep." And you're HAPPY about those 4 hours.

Last night was Kel's Friday (Monday is SO the new Friday. DUH). She coerced me (I mean, seriously. Hog-tied me and EVERYTHING. I have bruises on my arm because she twisted it so hard) into going out after work.

I met her and Egg at the Pub for a drink. Kel decided that she wanted to get trashed, and that I was getting trashed with her (this is where the arm-twisting comes in)(and, um, we all know Kel stops at nothing to get what she wants, right?). She paid for a cab to Billy O's (driven by one of the most perverted men EVAH). Nothing like cabbing it on a Monday night, man. We had the cab driver convinced we were lesbians, in hopes of maybe getting a free ride. His response? "I'm okay with it, as long as you don't cheat on me. Two is better than one, right?" I don't know where he thinks he comes in on this picture, but whatever. And no free ride, either. Fucker.

So we get to Billy O's, where Lewis is working. If you recall, this is the dude who loves us. LOVES us. He bought all our drinks last night. 3 apiece, and two shots (stay away from the Oatmeal Cookies. Good god they will kill you. I swear. Jager, Bailey's, and Goldschlagger. Oh my). We played some Yahtzee (It's a ghetto bar. Give us a break), danced to some fabulous songs, and bought some 21 year old her first legal shot. All in a night's work.

Oh, and, anybody want to trade livers? I don't think mine's too happy with me.

Say Car Ramrod! Say Car Ramrod!

2005-08-15T12:12:00.000-07:00

I've decided to quit drinking.**

3 days till Laughlin.

Booze, boating, and gambling. Heaven.

** Did you actually think I was serious? Damn you people are gullible.

Oh oh oh it's magic

2005-08-14T11:26:00.000-07:00

The dress has magical powers. Seriously.

No, I didn't get laid. But I got some offers. And some kisses. I was WAY too hammered to even think about doing anything else.

The wedding was absolutely gorgeous. The couple that got married have been together for oh, about 8 years. It was about damn time.

The open bar had a max tab of $2000. Um, that took a half hour. It turned into a cash bar after that, and only beer and wine. We were ghetto (and broke), and bought beers and kept them in coolers in the car. The flasks were a huge help, too.

We were all pretty much wasted by 6pm. It was awesome. Got so many compliments on the dress (should be getting pictures sent to me soon). A group of us made several trips to the other bar around the corner for shots and cheaper drinks. I am trying to recollect all that I drank, but the better question is what DIDN'T I drink. Moving on.

There was much dancing, drinking, and reminiscing. Out of the group of about 15 girls I hung out with, there were three of us who didn't have fake boobies. They don't move. It's hilarious. But they really do feel real.

The ex was there with his fiance, who is due any day. Apparently they are not sure it's even his, and he refuses to get a paternity test. There were 3 of us there that have dated him at some point. It was pretty funny. We're all cool with each other, which made him pretty uncomfortable.

Best line of the night: "I want to be on you." It didn't work.

What did work was buying me drinks and making out with me (I love it when your friends little brothers grow up and get all hot). Then sending me to bed because he didn't want to take advantage. Aw (yeah right. Wtf?).

I somewhat recall SWAT trying to take me home. I think I told him I'd take a rain check. Shit.

After the wedding we took over the pub around the corner, and then mobbed downtown and took over another bar. That was the point at which things got hazy (not surprisingly - I had been drinking for 8 hours). We left after that and went home.

But yeah. The dress was definitely a good buy.

Wild crazy unprotected sex

2005-08-13T03:13:00.000-07:00

So you all know Tambourine Girl. She's crazy, yo.

So TG doesn't have a life. She manages a restaurant 12 hours a day, which leaves VERY little time for a social life (i.e. sex). Despite the bruises and hungover pics, she's a hottie. I'd do her.

I digress.

So I am having my weekly drink/bitch fest with TG. She never ceases to amaze me. Homegirl proceeds to tell me a fabulous story. One that would make all you boys want to live in SoCal.

She finally has a day off. She calls up an old "friend." They're hanging out, shit starts happenin'. The clothes come off. They're ready to go. But homeboy (HB) is unprepared. He thinks, shit! Maybe his roommate has something.

This is where it gets good.

TG is determined and knows that this is GOING to happen. Does HB's roommate have anything, TG wonders? Well the only way to know is to find out. TG thinks it's a great idea for her to ask him. And maybe if she is naked, it will make it more enticing. So, she taps on the door (of the roomie she has never met before), and politely asks him (it's 4am) if he has any condoms. In the meantime, she is standing in his room, back arched and hands behind her head, completely naked. Roomie is thinking one of two things. Either this girl is the fucking shit, and I need to find me a girl like that, or this girl is a a huge slam whore who just wants to make sure her shit is safe. HB is standing in his doorway watching, and is sure as hell getting as much pleaesure from watching this as he would from the actual act of sex. Roomie failed, as did the rest of the plan. Sucks that she didn't get any ass, but I am also happy that she stops at nothing to get what she wants. I think she outdid my drunk stories for a year.

Is she the shit, or is she a slam whore?

Thank god she only gets out once a month.

I am sofa king we tall did

2005-08-12T10:24:00.000-07:00

We had my 10 y/o cousin saying that in an English accent all night last night. It was awesome. After a gigantic margarita and a couple (five) glasses of vino, I was feeling goooood. It was nice to just relax on the deck with the fam. The last week has been so non-stop it's ridiculous.

I open the bar tonight, my first solo shift. Hopefully I don't fuck anything up too bad.

Got a wedding to go to tomorrow at the Inn. Trying to hitch a ride with SWAT, if he gets back from Vegas in time, fucker. It's going to be a bunch of people I met through my ex and kept in touch with. Hopefully he won't be there, as it might be kind of awkward if I show up with SWAT (his best friend). Fuck it. It's been way too long for me to worry about that shit.

Going to take the waverunner out in The Harbor tomorrow with the sis and brother-in-law. Working Sunday night. Fun weekend. Y'all are jealous, I know. I think I'll wear the dress to the wedding. It did the job last time.

The Rules for My Bar

2005-08-11T14:04:00.000-07:00

I've decided to take The Pink Kitty on as a partner, to help open my bar. We've come up with some guidelines, if you will. Only cool people will be allowed in our bar (how's that for discrimination, huh?), by the way.

1. There will be security gates at the entrance. Except these are not normal security gates. These gates will measure your coolness. If you are not deemed cool enough (by our standards, of course), a siren will go off, "LOSER" will flash in huge red letters over your head, and you will be kicked off the island. Oh wait. I mean, out of the bar.

2. Hulk Hogan will be our bouncer. If you manage to get past the LOSER gates, you must then go through a rigorous once over by the Hulk. And he's not very nice, I'll let you know now. Also, Stone Cold Steve Austin will be at the back door. So don't even think about trying to sneak in. He brought his leg braces, foos. And there's some metal chairs back there, too. He'll lay the smack down and bust out with the Stone Cold Stunner!

3. You must be able to drink a minimum of 3 beers without getting wasted off said beers. It's called tolerance, people. It's not that hard to build up, believe me.

4. You must like Guinness. And appreciate a perfectly poured Guinness. No questions. You are not allowed in if you do not like Guinness. And even though you are not working, you must know how to pour Guinness.

5. You must take an Irish Car Bomb once you are granted access to our bar. They taste like chocolate milk. I promise. They're good for you.

6. No white wine will be served. We will serve red, but only good bottles. If you bitch that we don't carry white wine, you will be kicked out upon mention of it.

7. No frou-frou shots will be served. Same rule applies as with white wine. If you even THINK about ordering one, you will be exiled. For-ev-er.

8. You must display your intentions for the night somewhere on your apparel.
i.e., Males should probably all wear a t-shirt that says, "I'm looking for a one-night stand"
Females should probably wear one that says, "I'm going to flirt with you all night, let you buy me drinks, make you think that I'm going home with you, then take off at the end of the night with my girlfriends."

I, personally, would probably wear one that says, "I own this bar, so I don't give a shit, and I came to get drunk" and the back would say, "Shut Up & Drink"

9. All bloggers would be let in no matter what. Unless I don't like your blog. Then, I'd probably let you in, but then you'd have to wear a sticker on your forehead that says, "My blog sucks." And anyone with cheesy music on their blogs will NOT be let in.

10. There is no puking in our bar. If you do puke, you will have to wear a fluorescent pink shirt for the rest of your time at our bar (and any time you ever come in again) that says "I Puked at Shut Up & Drink." Also, if you puke you will clean it up. We don't give a sh*t if you're a paying customer, you're the idiot who can't hold their alcohol.

If you puke, but make it in the toilet, we might make an exception. Depends on how cool you are, of course.

11. Just because you are a celebrity does NOT grant you immediate access. For example, Ho Bag Hilton will not be allowed in. We might let her have her own little "Ho" section in the dark alley behind our bar, but she will not be coming in. Oh, and Stone Cold would get to watch. Johnny Knoxville and Smith from SATC would obviously be allowed in (DUH), and actually, they would both be with me in the champagne room. Yes, there will be a champagne room in our bar.

All others will be allowed to enter upon our discretion.

12. Kulats (coolotts?)(how the hell do you spell that anyway?) are not allowed. End of discussion. Neither are skorts.

13. Vertical stripers or one stripers are not allowed.

If you have any objections, well, you probably aren't cool enough to come in our bar anyway.

I'm going to open a bar

2005-08-11T12:44:00.000-07:00

(I'm also going to find a new job. One that isn't so boring that I post 9,867,453 times a day.)

Anyway, I think I'm going to call it, "Shut Up & Drink."

And everybody will know YOur name.

Does anyone have a body bag?

2005-08-11T11:58:00.000-07:00

"So you're a bartender now, straight up!"

"Sometimes you feel like you're life is on the rocks, huh?"

These are my co-worker's attempts at jokes.

Now do you people see what I have to deal with? Please, somebody help me!

I reallyreallyreally hate it

2005-08-11T11:32:00.000-07:00

when people just copy and paste shit on their blogs, but fuck it. This is perfect. A forwarded email, yes, but just read it. I'm sure a lot of you can identify (not that I do any of this, of course, because I'm a perfect angel).

Will I live To Be Eighty?

I recently picked a new primary care physician. After two visits
and exhaustive lab tests, he said I was doing "fairly well" for my
age. A little concerned about that comment, I couldn't resist asking
him, "Do you think I'll live to be 80?"

He asked, do you smoke tobacco or drink beer/wine?"
"Oh no," I replied. "I'm not doing either."

Then he asked, "Do you eat rib-eye steaks and barbecued ribs?"

I said, "No, my other Doctor said that all red meat is very unhealthy!"
"Do you spend a lot of time in the sun, like playing golf,
sailing, hiking, or bicycling?"
No, I don't," I said.

He asked, "Do you gamble, drive fast cars, or have a lot of
sex?"
"No," I said. "I don't do any of those things."

He looked at me and said, "Then why do you give a shit if you
live to be 80?

One week, my friends, one long freaking week.

2005-08-11T10:22:00.000-07:00

And I will be in Laughlin, aka The White Trash Vegas. I don't care. I'll take it. Booze, gambling, and wakeboarding. I think I can manage.

My sister and brother-in-law just bought one of these, their friends are meeting us with their boat, and I'm in charge of this.

I have tonight off, after working 8 days straight, 6 of which were doubles. I know, whaaa, poor me. The stepmomma is cooking dinner, because more of our crazy family is in town. I'm in need of a good wine-drinking night. I deserve it, dammit.

So training last night went great. The cocky trainer was actually really fucking cool. We had a full bar, and I handled most of it. He helped me out a little bit, but for the most part, I handled that shit. He actually told my boss that I am "amazing," which is HUGE, coming from this guy (and no, BRIAN, I didn't make out with him). I didn't break any more Belvedere, but I did break a rocks glass. Fuck it. It happens.

6 more hours here, and then lots and lots of wine, and some tri-tip, and some sunset-watching, and chilling on the parents' deck with my crazy familia. You're all jealous, I know it.

"I'll give you $100

2005-08-10T09:32:00.000-07:00

if you shove that crab leg up his ass."

Overheard last night in the bar. Welcome to bartending.

Monday night sucked. I got my ass handed to me. My trainer was a cocky jerk who has a lot of knowledge, but no patience. He works a solo shift, open to close, on Mondays. He let me do pretty much everything, and I was completely overwhelmed. At one point he says to me, "A little off the ball, huh?" I wanted to hit him. It's me second fucking day, dude.

Last night went so much better. My trainer was really mellow and just let me do my thing. He pointed out if I made a mistake, but it was all minor things. I have all the stupid specialty drinks pretty much down, and the rest is pretty easy.

Monday night Kel, Amie and I were at Billy O's, taking "secret shots" (they wrap random bottles in paper, and sell shots for $1.00), when we decided to go to Chumash Casino. I played blackjack on the same $15 for 6 hours, and Kel turned $5 into $85 the last 5 minutes we were there.

We got home at 7:30 Tuesday morning, and there was no way I was coming into work. I slept all day, then went to work at the restaurant. You know you partied when you have to set you alarm to wake up for a shift that starts at 6:30pm.

Tonight is my last night of training, with the jerk, no less. I am not looking forward to it. Let's hope I don't hit him.

It's only 9:13 and I'm already over this shit.

2005-08-08T09:07:00.000-07:00

So this weekend was pretty mellow. Cosidering I got a cumulative of ten hours of sleep over 3 nights, you would have thought it had been a crazy freaking weekend.

Hung out with Amie Thursday night after work and drank some beers till about 3am. Went to work Friday morning, then got to see my little burrito babies, as the mom was in town. Worked Friday night, went home and went to bed.

Got up at 5am Saturday (on a SATURDAY) to help Amie out with her yard sale. It was a long fucking day. Worked Saturday night, and couldn't do a damn thing right. 8 hours of sleep over three days just doesn't cut it when you have to be coherent, yo.

After work, I went over to a friend's house. Drank some beer, played some bones (I won, I rule - two 20's in a row. Fuck yes.), had a midnight pool party. Played some 3 Flags Up, some pool baseball, got in a few wrestling matches, met a boy. You know, all in a night's work.

I trained yesterday in the bar. Except by the time I got there, the other girls were slammed. So instead of "training," I just started making drinks. I did okay, but was slow as all hell. I don't know where anything is back there. Trying to make drinks while trying to remember what's in them (stupid specialty drinks) AND trying to find the damn bottles is a little overwhelming when you have twenty customers at the bar and 10 tickets in your well. Whew. I go in earlier today to meet with the head bartender so we can go over some basics. Considering I've never used a jigger in my life, and that I tend to pour with a HEAVY hand, this is going to take some getting used to.

So, a decent weekend. Nothing too crazy. I train tonight, tomorrow, and Wednesday in the bar (which means no tips). Thursday I have off (thank God - Wednesday makes 8 days in a row), then I open the bar (BY MYSELF) on Friday. Should be off by around 8. Then I'm going to go get trashed.

You ain't got no job.

2005-08-05T10:56:00.000-07:00

So, Ty's fucking crazy. Go check him out, yo.

(That was a measly attempt to divert attention from my blog for now because I can't think of a goddamn thing to write. But then again, I think that last post about the ten songs I like should have been enough to keep people away)

Old men scare me. There's a customer who comes in to my restaurant (MY restaurant, bitches) quite regularly. He comes in with his wife, who he is a complete fucking asshole to. He is constantly interrupting her, telling her she ruins everything, telling her to shut up, etc. I want to slap the fucker. Everytime they come in, they ask for my section. And everytime, without fail, they bring in a bottle of wine, and order hamburgers. Wtf? They act all superior about their wine knowledge, and order fucking hamburgers. And then? Annnnd theeen? He leaves me the rest of the bottle of wine. Every goddamn time. There's like, two fucking drops left in the bottle, and he acts like he's privileging me with his wine-giving.

And this guy that came in to my office (yes, MY office) today? He sat there and stared at my ass the entire time he was in here. His exact words were, "My, aren't you a pretty little thing." He is, oh, SEVENTY EIGHT years old. See? If I just lowered the standards a bit, maybe I could find myself a man.

And I'm out. I made some shit up about a bar meeting at work. I'm going to go lay in the sun now, and try not to flash the gardener.

I love my computer

2005-08-04T09:24:00.000-07:00

I tried to do this last night, and my computer erased it just as I hit "Publish post." Fucker.

So basically, here's 10 songs I'm enjoying right now. I'm supposed to copy and paste and tag 5 people and blah blah blah, but I don't really feel like doing it. So, if you want to play, go for it. Just let me know in my comments, so I know to go check you out. Here goes, in no particular order:

1) I've Got A Dark Alley & A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth - Fallout Boy
If you haven't heard them yet, I suggest you do.

2) On Your Porch - The Format
This is a song about a guy who loses his dad. Since we found out about Kel's dad, I've listened to it pretty much every day. It really hits home.

3) I've Got Dreams To Remember - Otis Redding
Fucking love Otis.

4) Change Your Mind - All American Rejects
Pretty poppy, but still good. It's from their 2nd album.

5) Tall Cans In the Air - Transplants
Let me see 'em. Fuck you.

6) Smiling - Operation Ivy
One of many favorites by them.

7) Provider - N.E.R.D.
Pharell is a fucking genius.

8) Freetime - Kenna
Check him out, he's good shit.

9) Automatic - Less Than Jake
Old school, foo.

10) Baby's Got Sauce - G. Love & Special Sauce
Love these guys. Blues + Rap = Awesome.

You've lost that lovin feelin...

2005-08-03T13:08:00.000-07:00

Da Melizzle drew a cartoon about me. Check it out, YO

I'm sleeping my way out of this one

2005-08-03T09:26:00.000-07:00

with anyone who'll lie down (It's a song. Two points to whoever can name it. Geez, people, I'm not THAT easy).

Anyway, Pilot Dude didn't call till after 10. Um, sorry, but in order to bed me, you need to at LEAST buy me dinner. And the clincher? I told him it was too late, and that I would call him tomorrow, and he texted back, "Hey, hate to say it, but I'm all out of time to see you. So sorry tonight's the night. If not take care and it has been fun."

Are you JOKING?

Have a fabulous time in Germany, and don't forget your flight jacket.

**UPDATE**
Melissa will be posting a pictorial of Pilot Dude on her site later. Don't miss this one!

Why I love Tambourine Girl

2005-08-02T15:03:00.000-07:00

and all her common sense.

We both go to the same tanning place. In the very front is "the bed." It's the strongest one, and it faces Main St in Ventura. The front is a picture window, which is open when there's no one using it.

So Kel goes in for a tan. She explains that she's going to Laughlin, and would like to get some more color before she goes, so she doesn't burn. The girl says to Kel, "Well, you look good, so you can use the bed in the front." Kel, confused, and not realizing that they CLOSE THE DRAPES when someone's in there, says, "Well, I don't think I look THAT good that I need to go in the picture window." The girl stifles a laugh, and says, "Um, I was referring to your color."

Then, she goes to get a leg tan, which the girl hooked her up with for free. Except the first time she saw the leg tanner, she thought it was a tanning bed for midgets.

That girl cracks my shit up.

Texting is the devil

2005-08-02T14:15:00.000-07:00

Me: Kel, I'm kinda nervous about tonight. What if I don't like him sober?
Kel: Grow a pair and tell him you have to work in the morning.
Me: I know, I'm such a wuss.
Kel: I think you should do your civic duty and just fuck him! He IS going to fucking Germany!
Me: You slut
Kel: Me?! You're the one who's going to fuck him! Three car bombs should do it.
Me: I never said ANYTHING abotu fucking him. It's dinner and drinks. And two will probably be enough, PS.

Who said girls are all about feelings and emotions and shit?

Why I make out with randoms who wear flight jackets

2005-08-02T11:27:00.000-07:00

Sunday started off fairly normal (normally?). We met for brunch with the Dargan's crew at Joannafina's around 1. Late start, I wasn't too worried about getting too trashed. Was I wrong.

After downing abotu 5 glasses of champagne, we started drinking Coronas. When our waitress told us we drank all the Coronas, we decided to go back to the champagne. Except we had drunk all their champagne as well. Damn. On to the next bar.

Marissa and Egg were at Tacos N Beer, which was down the street. So, we met up with them for a beer (Dos Equis on tap for $2.50!). The rest of the crew had gone down to the beach, so after our Dos Equis we met up with them. We ran out of Coronas again, so Egg and I took a quick trip to the liquor store for a couple more cases.

We hung out at the beach for awhile, all the boys trying to get me to wear my new (European cut) bikini. I would have, but it was windy and cold as hell. Clear and sunny, but windy as fuck. So the jeans stayed on. I think I got buried as well, at some point. Kendal and I jumped in a 6 foot deep hole one of the boys had dug, and (haha) they buried us up to our waists. I jumped out, Kendal got stuck. Apparently she's a little claustrophobic. She kinda freaked out. It was pretty funny.

After the beach, we were hungry again. We went to Duke's for burgers and more beer. We took some cheesy black and white pictures in one of those booths. I have my best Zoolander face on. It's freaking hilarious.

After Duke's (no, we're not done yet) we went to Dargan's. Good Lord, I should have gone home and gone to bed. Oh no. At Dargan's numerous beers were consumed. And shots. Good God, the shots. They killed me. At least 4 of them.

This is where I met Pilot Boy. We talked at Dargan's for ahwile, then he left. I was swaying by this point (bad Ali!). We decided to go to Sans Souci (aka The Sewer) after last call at Dargan's (Yes, it's still Sunday. Yes, we're still drinking). It was now about 1 am. I spotted Pilot Boy at The Sewer, where more talking (I think) was followed my much making out.

I lost count at abotu 5 glasses of champagne and about 6 beers. Hence, why I make out with boys who sport flight jackets. I really should not be allowed outside my home.

Handle that shit.

2005-08-02T09:41:00.000-07:00

So I have a date tonight.

Random Make-Out Boy from Sunday night texted me last night to see if I wanted to hang out. I was so out of commission it wasn't even funny. We made plans to meet up tonight.

There is only one slight problem. I don't remember ONE THING we talked about on Sunday. I remember that we talked for a pretty long time before anything actually happened (I vaguely remember pinning him up against the brick wall outside the bar), but I seriously don't remember a thing except his name. And that I think he's cute.

I was talking to the roomie while texting with him. I told her that I think he might be a pilot, as he was wearing a flight jacket. Scratch that. I said I HOPE he's a pilot, because nobody should be wearing a flight jacket, unless you're Tom Cruise in Top Gun. She started laughing, telling me, "Watch, he's going to be some crazy pilot dude who lives in Germany or something." I laughed right along with her, because I always know how to pick 'em, man. Here's part of the (text) convo last night:

RMOB: How are you?
Me: Good. Tired. You?
RMOB: Good. I didn't wake up until noon. What are your plans for the night?
Me: Just hanging out at home. Recovering.
RMOB: Well if you want some company, let me know. I will be flying out Thursday.

(Ding ding ding! He's a pilot. Check.)

Me: Sounds good, I'll give you a call. I'm sure we covered this last night, but where are you flying again?
RMOB: We did. I'm flying back to Germany. I did tell you I'm in the Air Force, right? We talked about a lot of stuff last night.

(Shit. Stationed in Germany. Air Force. What else do I not remember?)

Me: I remember the Air Force part (LIAR!), but not the Germany part. Minor details, huh?
RMOB: Haha yeah. Well hope to hear from you soon.

So he's an Air Force pilot who is stationed in Germany. And more than likely just wants to get some ass before he leaves. Hmm.

So, my dilemma? Do I admit that I'm a drunk ass and don't remember a goddamn thing from Sunday except kissing him? Or do I just go with it because, shit, he's leaving soon anyway? Because, seriously guys? I really don't remember ONE THING we talked about. That Germany thing? Yeah. Prime example. Shit.

Okay, seriously?

2005-08-01T11:44:00.000-07:00

I should not be allowed in public right now. I should be confined to my bed.

Yesterday was probably one of the craziest Sundays yet. I know, not much could top last week, but WOW. I made out with a random who thinks I'm his soul mate, one of my best (guy) friends tried to kiss me about 25 times, and I am tan as hell from drinking at the beach all day. (Wait. I'm tan from the sun. Not the drinking. But there was a LOT of drinking.)

Details to come. I can't think right now.

But seriously? What's with the whole guys not being able to just hang out as friends thing? Cuz that shit's kinda confusing me.

Oh yeah. And I'm supposed to hang out with SWAT tonight.

Today just hurts.

Wine-o

2005-07-27T10:40:00.000-07:00

Last night was my stepmomma's birthday. My older bro drove up from Hermosa, and we surprised her and my dad at dinner at Cafe Zack's. They catered my sister's wedding a couple years ago, and the owner absolutely adores my stepmom, so they love us there.

My parents' next door neighbors happened to be eating near us. They're pretty cool. She's a stay-at-home decorator, and he was Robert Blake's stunt double in Baretta (he's like, 39, and RETIRED). Anyway, she came over to say hi, and after that sent over a bottle of Silver Oak, which she saw we were drinking. What she didn't realize was that my parents bought their bottle wholesale, and brought it with them. So, with the ridiculous markup, the neighbors ended up buying us a $90 bottle of wine. It was pretty sweet.

So we drank some fabulous wine, ate some fabulous Italian food, and got quite loud by the end of dinner. Considering the number of wine bottles outnumbered the people in our group, it's a wonder we weren't asked to leave.

Now do you people see where I get it?!

Longish

2005-07-26T15:44:00.000-07:00

My posts have been really loooooooong lately, I've noticed. Maybe it's because I lead such a fascinating life. Or, maybe not (I'm going with NOT).

I have not worked a full day at the office in a long time. Yes, I work two jobs, and yes, I complain a lot, but really, it's not TOO bad. I work 9-12 most days, then go to work at crappy Outback. Anyway, I'm really fucking bored today. I am done here in less than a month, when school starts. And I'm OVER IT. I want to be done NOW (I like whining, too).

Kel and I decided to go to Billy O's last night at about midnight. Yes, I know it was a MONDAY. We were bored. I figured that drinking myself silly all night Saturday and all day Sunday wasn't enough.

Anyway.

So we went to Billy O's. There were about 4 people there. It is a shithole bar I used to frequent with the boys when I lived at my old apartment. We spent many a nights tormenting Lewis, my old man bartender who gave me free beers, and singing karaoke. Many, many memories. I digress.

I challenged Kel to a game of pool. I'm decent at pool, but very inconsistent. I have no fucking clue as to the strategy of a game of pool. I just hit the balls, and hit 'em hard. Kel is decent (if you consider losing twice in one game decent, then so be it). It wasn't long before some boys came over to call next game.

One of the regulars, Mike, coached me through the next game. I ran the table from there on out. Had beers bought for me because I was kicking some serious pool ass. Who knew strategy actually WORKS? (Note to self: Boys get kind of mad when you beat them in pool)

In essence, I am fucking awesome.

Fuck Joe

2005-07-26T09:37:00.000-07:00

As most of my loyal reader(s) know, I enjoy the occasional Sunday Brunch. Okay, I lie. I get wasted. Last Sunday was no different.

Kel (Tambourine Girl) and I got a good little group together around 11:30 at Joannafina's. We started drinking champagne and ate some fabulous homemade Mexican food. Tamales, posole, tacos, mole, chilequiles (the best I've ever tasted), and oh, just everything is so damn good.

We proceeded to drink a LOT of champagne. Kel's Mom (KM) came with her. KM hardly ever drinks, so she took full advantage of the unlimited champagne. KM just found out her live-in boyfriend is cheating on her. Bastard. So after a few glasses of champagne, KM flourished. Every other word was, "Fuck JOE!" It became the theme of the day.

At one point, the girls asked me how the wedding was. Marissa asked if I went to the Forum Saturday (Dirty Text Guy).

Marissa: So Ali, how was the wedding? Did you end up going to the Forum? (snicker)
Me (getting totally laughed at by everyone who knows the situation): Ha! Yeah.
KM (totally clueless): You went to the Forum (which is now the Staples Center)? Was it open?
Kel: Heheh. SOMETHING was.

This is why I love my friends. They've always got my back.

Anyway. So, my parents ended up coming out for a few drinks. They didn't join us earlier because they were having company over later, and "didn't want to be shitfaced." My parents are awesome.

Beau showed up for a bit as well. He was with a party in the back (Dargan's crew). He came out to say hi to my parents, and my dad busts out, "So, Beau, did you have time to get the condoms?"

WHAT?!

Oh yeah. I forgot I told my dad about Beau yelling at me at Dargan's about getting condoms on the way home. If you don't know the story, go here, and it's about halfway down. Yeah, so I almost spit out my champagne when I heard my DAD say that.

We slowly lost our crowd. Egg, Marissa, and Crystal went home. My parents left (so they wouldn't be "shitfaced for their dinner guests"). Beau invited us to go to the beach with his buddies (one of them being the doorman she made out with on my birthday)(who she didn't quite remember). We told him we would go home and change, and meet him back at the beach. Well, that didn't quite happen. An hour later, we were still sitting in the same spot on the patio, still drinking champagne, singing with the mariachi band, when Beau and the boys walked back by with their coolers, headed to the beach. KM was still screaming, "Fuck Joe!" Beau just shook his head at us, and didn't even bother to come over. Yeah. I would've passed us by too.

We FINALLY left brunch at 3:00. We decided we wanted margaritas. So we went to VONS (while KM passed out in the car), and got margarita stuff. Kel wanted cake (which we pronounced "cock," as in Father of the Bride, sufficiently loud enough to turn heads), so we went to the bakery. We found a white cake with some cheesy balloons frosted on it. We decided that we needed to get something written on it. But what, you ask? "FUCK JOE!"
Oh yes. The bakery dude even drew a little birdie on there for us (we explained the situation, he was more than happy to do it). So I now have a cake that says "Fuck Joe" in my fridge. KM was ecstatic.

We went to my house, made some mean (read: STRONGASSHIT) margaritas, and went to the pool. Crystal and Egg joined us again. My BOSS met up with us (thanks Kel)(yes, it was weird. When's the last time your boss came to your house? Um, NEVER). We tried to swim (fly's really hard when you're wasted). We ended up going back to my house to hang out before we went to dinner (It was now 5 or 6 by this point)(yes, still drinking). The Boss left. We went to Outback for dinner, and made a spectacle of ourselves there. Ate a shitload of food and drank more. Texted with Cute Boy for about 4 hours throughout the day, and the only part I remember was the one I got from him that said, "Ali, you must be fucked up, because you're not making any sense." Good thing phones save shit now, right? I got a refresher course the next morning of what exactly was said.

I think we pretty much stopped drinking after Outback (emphasis on THINK). We went back to Kel's and hung out for a bit, where we found a drunk KM making fairy wands. Don't ask.

The Dress

2005-07-25T15:07:00.000-07:00

is very similar to this. But with a green satin neckline.

Can I have a cocktail?

2005-07-25T09:12:00.000-07:00

(Minus the tail)

So, the wedding.

Got to the boys house around 5 or so, after picking up my flask of Captain. Had some cocktails at the house. Got all nostalgic, because we started reminiscing. This was a daily routine when I lived in that complex. I miss my boys.

Got to the wedding a little early. Tailgated in the parking lot (classy). All the boys were in jeans and button downs. I looked hot in my dress, but I think they felt a little underdressed. Ah well. They all looked damn good with their tats peeking out of the sleeves.

Sat down for the ceremony, had a good little buzz going, thanks to my good friend Sailor Jerry. The boys were ro-sham-bo-ing (I have no idea how to spell that -- rock, paper, scissors, right?) for every hot girl they saw. Then for the flower girl. Sick fucks (They weren't serious, settle down).

Ceremony was short and sweet. Went inside, to find that there were no seats for us (We KNEW we weren't really supposed to be invited!). We parked ourselves at the bar (it would have happened anyway), and started (continued) drinking. A few Captain and Diets later, Ali was feeling fabulous.

The groom's mom found us a table eventually, where we packed me, the five boys, and two foreign girls we didn't know. I think we scared them. We were definitely a wild bunch. They just kept staring at us in disbelief over some of the things that were said. And, I jsut remembered, we were at the booth next to the parents of the bride and groom. I have a feeling we won't be invited to family BBQ's anytime soon.

Let the games begin.

The reception was a little slow to start. All that emotional stuff had to happen. I think this is the first wedding I've been to that I didn't bawl.

The DJ kinda sucked. We resorted to giving him Dirty Text Guy's (DTG) 80's mix. Damn did I shake my ass to some P.Y.T. Jeremy and Beau put me in a nice Ali sandwich, which the photographer (who showed up out of NOWHERE) snapped. I showed off my fabulous dancing skills, demonstrated in full effect with the Sprinkler, the Bus Driver, and the Shopping Cart. We got a little breakdancing up in the mix. That was pretty sweet. For a white girl, I can get down. Drop it like it's hot, YO.

We were WASTED by this time. DTG was calling the two foreign girls the "foreign broads." The boys were taking pics of their, um, stuff, with the disposables on the tables (good thing both sets of parents are completely and utterly religous, right? Shit). I was losing my purse every five minutes. The boys were hitting on 17-year-olds. I think the best line of the night was when Jeremy asked the girl he was talking to how old she was. She started jumping up and down, clapping her hands, and squealed, "I'll be 18 in two months!" We left shortly after that.

Went back to the boys' house. Watched some Chapelle Show. And, um, yeah. The rest, I'll leave up to your imagination. A lady never tells her secrets.

But I will tell you the dress worked, and it worked well.

Okay, now I'm bored.

2005-07-24T22:52:00.000-07:00

Drunk. Waiting for Tambourine Girl to take me to my home. She's passed the fuck out.

Was at brunch for 4 hours today. Do you know what 4 hours of unlimited champagne will do to you? We're going to put that place out of goddamn business.

And margaritas at the pool? Done.

Beers at dinner? DONE.

Things that happened this weekend? Where do I begin...

Friday, got my shirt ripped open at the Pub. Many boys saw my breasts who shouldn't have seen my breasts.

Saturday, went to a wedding. The hired photographer got a shot of me getting sandwiched. Fabulous. Just the memories you want, right? [andsomanymorestoriesthatwillhavetowaittilllater]

Today. See above. Oh yeah. And saw a dude fall off his motorcycle. That was pretty crazy.

Good God

2005-07-24T22:00:00.000-07:00

My weekend. Ridiculous.

The dress worked.

Will 'splain tomorrow.

Too drunk to write more now.

[brunchisthedevil]

Check check it.

2005-07-22T11:44:00.000-07:00

Check it out, YO.

My hot little sis spots Ron Jeremy and is loving the San Deezy.

So, my night.

2005-07-22T09:34:00.000-07:00

I got to work a little early yesterday in order to open up the restaurant. It turned out to be one of those days where EVERYTHING went wrong. To sum it up, the first thing I did was spill an entire vat of Alfredo sauce ALL OVER ME. Sweet. It all went downhill from there, and I kind of don't want to talk about it.

Talked to Cute Boy, who is a fickle as ever. Not much background on this one. Seems interested, but won't follow through with anything. Asked what I was doing, sounded like he wanted to meet up, then by the end of the converstaion was ready for bed. Ah well.

Anyway.

Last night was a good friend's birthday. This girl is actually my hairdresser, but we knew each other through work before that. She and the rest of the group were at Golden China, the very-much-ghetto karaoke bar. Crystal and I decided to stop by Dargan's for a quick drink beforehand, and to say hi to Beau.

So we get to Dargan's, and it is PACKED. It gets busy there, but not like this. Um, yes, I'm a dumbass. Alkaline Trio played at the Ventura Theater (I missed that shit. I am still mad), and EVERYONE from the concert was at Dargan's. My friend's dad was playing as well. He is probably 60 years old. He's this little Irish man who plays guitar and sings mostly Johnny Cash (very well, I might add), and throws in some old Irish songs for good measure ('Dirty Old Town' is a sing-along favorite).

We went up to the bar, and waited about 20 minutes for 2 beers. One of the reasons I frequent this bar is because 1) I know most of the bartenders and servers, and 2) I don't wait 20 minutes for a beer. We decided to drink our beers and get out of there. Crystal was getting elbowed in the boob, as well as a couple shots to the head, by some drunk bitch who was still taking shots of Jameson, and I was trying to make conversation with some old dude next to me who looked lonely, but was COMPLETELY ignoring me. It was awesome. I was talking to myself.

So. Beau. I've talked about him before. He's one of my best guy friends. He used to date one my best girlfriends. We were neighbors for 2 years, and spent practically every night getting wasted and talking shit. He's really good friends with Dirty Text Guy who will be at the wedding on Saturday. We all used to hang out all the time. But since I've moved, I only see the other boys every couple months. I see Beau a lot, but mainly at Dargan's.

I digress.

As I'm sitting at the bar, I realize that if I were someone else, and didn't know our history, I would totally suspect that I want Beau. I sit at the bar when he works. I laugh at his jokes. I do everything that suggests that I want him, short of actually wanting him. So I tell him my revelation. He starts laughing, because it's so true. He gives me a napkin rose, which further demonstrates our fake relationship. Crystal and I get up to leave, and say goodbye.

As I'm walking away, I hear yelling. And laughing. I turn around. Beau is looking at me, with his I'm-up-to-no-good face, while simultaneously yelling, at the top of his lungs,"I WON'T HAVE TIME TO STOP AND GET COMDOMS BEFORE I COME OVER, SO WOULD YOU MIND GRABBING SOME BEFORE I GET THERE? I'LL BE THERE AROUND 2, OKAY?"

This dude constantly embarrasses me. He thrives on it.

I flipped him off, and of course had to laugh (along with EVERYONE ELSE IN THE ENTIRELY EFFING BAR).

After that, we went to Ghetto Golden China (Chinese restaurant by day, karoake and cheap drinks by night). A bunch of people from my old restaurant were there, so it was cool to see them. I was immediately humped by one of the boys (emphasis on BOY). And then another. Sweet.

We got a couple pitchers. The Birthday Girl was not nearly drunk enough at this point. Real quick: BG is about 4'11, 90 pounds. Never drinks, always drives. 2 drinks and she's done. By the time I left, she had drunk 2 shots with me, 2 with the other girls, 2 with the boys, and numerous Vanilla Stoli and Sprites. About 10 minutes after the second shot with me, she started swaying (SWAYING). Spilling her beer. Slurring. Telling me that my next trip to the salon is on her. Telling me that she loved me. Calling out her boyfriend about the time he called the cops on her (long story). Girl was WASTED.

I left at this point. There were many more people to take care of her, and I had to get home and go to bed. Crystal drove me home. I made her come inside so I could show off the hot dress I bought for the wedding on Saturday. I put it on. I paraded around. My new line: "Do you think this will get me laid?"

$90 tan

2005-07-22T09:17:00.000-07:00

I left work early yesterday. I wanted to get some sun, as the wedding is on Saturday, and of course I want to look good. The fog rolled in right as I was about to change into my suit, so I cheated. I went to the tanning bed.

Once I got there, I realized I had forgotten my tanning lotion. So I used a sample of some supposed "really great stuff" (the bottle goes for $90?)and tanned. I went home. I still had a little time before I had to get ready for work. So, I sat out on my patio, pulled up my pant legs, pulled down the tank top, and read a little of my book (I was too lazy to change into my suit for 15 minutes in the sun). Um, why do I have tan lines right above my knees that very much suggest that I wear bike shorts after 10 MINUTES IN THE SUN? Yeah. Apparently that lotion IS "really great stuff."

Fabulous.

Yeah yeah

2005-07-20T23:44:00.000-07:00

I know it's HNT. But until I can steal the office cam and post something mildly interesting, here are pictures of one of the beaches in the area (Nardcore, biatches)...

Definitely a Beach Day

2005-07-20T10:23:00.000-07:00

It is absolutely gorgeous again (check out my Weather Whore -- she doesn't lie, YO). I will be leaving at noon. I will be dropping off Grandma's birthday gift. Then I will be heading to the beach. Nice.

Last night was fairly uneventful, other than my head butt with the idiot. Went shopping and got a HOT dress for the wedding on Saturday, had a good swim, and went to bed at a fairly decent hour.

And in exactly one hour and a half, I will be laying on the beach (I'll think of all you bloggers that have to be at work though. I will. I swear.)

Predrunkenmadness

2005-07-19T17:48:00.000-07:00

We love wine, yes we do.

Can I borrow your jet?

2005-07-19T16:34:00.000-07:00

Would anyone like to fly me to Vegas? I would really appreciate it (No really! I would. I SWEAR I would talk to you again).

See, I'm going to Vegas next weekend (not for the wedding where I'll hopefully get some action, but for a bachelorette party for ANOTHER wedding I'm attending in August). It would be cheaper to drive, but I really don't want to. Cuz I'm lazy like that. And honestly? That means I can't drink until I actually get TO Vegas. I can't take shots on the plane ride out there. Sucks. And? Considering the amount I drink in Vegas? I really shouldn't go anywhere near a car for about 4 days afer my return.

So, seriously guys, send me some money (Or a plane ticket. Or some booze). It's only, like, $200 for a ticket. And it will only take me an hour to get there if I fly. As opposed to 4 in my ----- SHIT! I just remembered my air-conditioner is broken. Oh fuck that. I'm flying (so send me money).

Lurvely phone convos

2005-07-19T14:42:00.000-07:00

Me: Thank you for calling ____ ____, this is Ali, how may I help you?

Caller: Se habla espanol? (Nope, there is no upside down question mark for the beginning. Deal.)

Me: Can I get your name?

Caller: Se habla espanol?

Me: Hold, please

Caller: Se habla espanol?

Me (frustrated)(to bilingual coworker aka Guy at Next Desk aka Guy I Can't Stand): How do you say "Hold on" in Spanish?

BC aka GaND aka GICS: Un momento, por favor.

Caller: Se habla espanol?

Me: Un momento, por favor.

Caller: Oh, okay, thank you.

And... now she knows Ingles.

Highlight of the Day

2005-07-19T14:20:00.000-07:00

Dirty texts from the cute boy who looks like this (the name is pretty fitting, as well), who will be at the wedding I'm going to on Saturday. Yee-haw.

Fucking gorgeous

2005-07-19T09:19:00.000-07:00

It is absolutely amazing today. Clear skies, 75 degrees, no wind. Gorgeous.

One of the downfalls of living by the beach is the fog. You get used to it after awhile, and it usually burns off by noon, but man, it sucks when it's foggy for 2 weeks straight in JULY. When it's supposed to be sunny so you can take advantage of the fact that you live 2 minutes from the beach.

I think I might copy Pink Kitty and Melissa, and start a blog about where I live. Cuz we do have some pretty awesome beaches around here, and I'd love to share some pictures (rub it in).

Awww.

2005-07-18T23:21:00.000-07:00

The Recap

2005-07-18T09:20:00.000-07:00

Friday-

Went home and took a (much-needed) nap. Went to work. Went to Dargan's, then the Pub. Didn't buy a digital -- I took my car in for an oil change on Thursday, which turned into needing new brakes and the tranny serviced. There went the camera money.

Saturday-

Worked. Made crappy money and got out late. Met up with the family (sister, brother, brother in law) at brother's friend's house for one of the best house parties I've been to in a long time. This house was gigantic. 2 stories, in the hills in Ventura, fabulous view. Balconies everywhere, a different keg in each room. Live bands. Full bar (bartender included), Jello shots. DJ and dancing. Saw a ton of people I haven't seen in forever.

After the party, we went to the Pub. Then to the sister's house for more beer. Walked home at 6am. Slept, went to work Sunday. Work sucked [thefreakscomeoutonsundays].

I know nuth-eeng

2005-07-15T11:43:00.000-07:00

I have done ABSOLUTELY NOTHING at work today. Nada. NOTHING. I have sat here for the past 3 hours reading blogs, playing emails, checking my comment boxes again and again, because I am THAT bored. And I get irritated when the phone rings (I mean, c'mon! I'm BLOG-GING. Helllooo! How dare you interrupt me?!).

I've contemplated what to do this weekend. What to do this afternoon. See, I don't work at the slave job until 5:30, but I'm leaving here at noon. What to do? Imagine the possibilities. Probably go buy a digital. Grab some lunch. Swim? Maybe. Take a nap? More than likely. I got new pajamas, and I just want to put them on and bury myself under my comforter. Mmmm.

Now that I've accomplished NOTHING this morning, I am off to my fun-filled afternoon. Aren't you glad you guys read my blog? I am SOOOO interesting and fun. Yes.

Dear Guy at Next Desk:

2005-07-15T09:24:00.000-07:00

If you have to apologize after you tell a "joke," it's probably not funny.

Late HNT

2005-07-15T01:50:00.000-07:00

The first picture sucked. Here's one to hold you over till the boobies.

Following in the footsteps

2005-07-14T16:07:00.000-07:00

My little sis moved to San Diego today. I'm jealous.

In honor of Half-Nekkid Thursday:

2005-07-14T15:26:00.000-07:00

This is my brother-in-law and I sabotaging the Christmas lights of Santa Barbara. After an entire day of bar-hopping -- starting with Joe's, known for their heavy hand (Holy God, a Rum and Coke tastes like gasoline) -- BIL (bro-in-law) and I decided we would pull one light from EVERY SINGLE TREE on State Street, consequently putting the street out of its merriness. Our friends in SB weren't too happy about that.

Why I need a digital

2005-07-14T01:49:00.000-07:00

[andwhyyouneedmetoneedadigital]

I so had a picture of the boobies (ready and willing for HNT). On the roomie's camera. And the roomie's not home. And her stupid computer wouldn't turn on (and I'm a leetle drunk)(What did the midget say to the bartender? "I'm a little drunk"), so I couldn't download (upload?) the twins for you blogger peeps. Sorry. Maybe next time.

P.S. I am SO funny.