latest news on the birthday plans

yes, yet another update on the never ending saga that is my upcoming 30th birthday.

Which, by the way, is in a mere 3 months and 7 days. In case you were wondering, ’cause I just know you all were.

Back in February I wrote this about how, for the most part, I hate my own birthday and any celebration that is attached to it. Then in March, I wrote this about how I wasn’t sure if I wanted my twin brother and possibly my entire immediate family to come and visit for my birthday.

Seeing that it’s now May, and surely y’all are sitting around waiting anxiously to hear the latest, I thought I’d give you an update.

can’t just eat one

Today, at lunch, I consumed half a bag of Cheetos, the puffy kind.

I mean, seriously, how could I not accept all those puffy cheesy things that my dear, adorable, sweet-as-can-be 2-year-old decided to hand feed me.

Like you’d have the guts to say no to a face like this:

Okay, so it’s not like he forced me to eat the additional 4 handfuls, but come on, he was having so much fun feeding me and I just couldn’t tell him to stop.  That would have been cruel.  If I had said “No Owen, mommy doesn’t want anymore cheesy things,” he probably would have gotten upset and cried, and I didn’t want the reason for his bad mood to be because mommy wouldn’t eat the damn Cheetos.

Pick your battles, I’ve always been told, this just wasn’t one worth fighting.

So instead, I went along with his little game and somehow, in the matter of minutes, half the bag just magically disappeared. One minute it was there, the next, poof, it was gone.

It wasn’t my fault.  You’ve seen the picture and that face.   I cannot be held accountable.

120 days and counting

I just felt the urgent need to update you all on the countdown to my 30th birthday.  In case you were wondering, there are 120 days left. 

One of my best friends has 10 days left until she hits the big 3-0.  I’m feeling pretty okay about my 120 days.    

I’m actually thinking that maybe I’ll create an Amazon.com wish-list and post a link to it somewhere on my sidebar so that you’ll know what to buy me for my brirthday.  In case you forgot, you have 120 days.  I think that’s a good amount of time to save up for my gift!  I mean even if you just put away $1 a day for the next 120 days, then, well, you’ll have $120 to spend on me.  I expect great presents this year. 

This also means that there are 120 days left to this blog.  Remember, back when I started this, 90 days ago, I said that this would be more like a telenovela then a soap opera.  It would have an end.  It will have an end.  I need it to have an end.  I’m big on closure and finishing things.

120 days people.  Only 120 more days of my self-reflective, self-exploration crap.  What will you do when it’s all over?  How will you be able to go on?   

Please, don’t stress out about it.  Don’t fret.  Don’t be sad.  Don’t cry.  Really, don’t worry about it.  I’ve decided that I’m going to start an Avoiding Crisis series.  I’m thinking maybe I’ll do Avoiding Crisis: surviving another international move.  Or in other words, my journey to yet another country.  Heck, who knows really what crisis I’ll be avoiding in 120 days from now.   That’s just one option.   I think it a bit premature to talk about what will come next.  I still have 120 days until my 30th birthday as opposed to just the 10 that my friend has.  Did I mention that she’s older than me? 

Oh, if my parents are reading this, hellllllllloooooo folks,  it is only 120 days, let’s get on the ball and decide what we are doing here so I can make some plans.  You coming or am I going?  Parties and/or vacation plans don’t just happen over night, you know.  Call me, we’ll chat.  Love ya! 

Oh yeah, did you know that there are 120 days until by 30th birthday?  You got that, right?  Good, I was getting a bit worried there for a minute.

And don’t forget about the save $1 a day thing we discussed.  Who cares about that poverty stricken child in Peru that needs a sponsor so that she can eat and go to school.  I know a girl in Argentina who is in need of some serious birthday gifts.  In 120 days, that is. 

so apparently this is the kind of advice I desperately need

Brace yourselves.  I have a confession to make.  I’ll admit it, I actually get Daily Candy delivered to my email inbox every morning.  And, are you sitting down for this?  I do actually read it.  No joke. 

You know, Daily Candy, the ultimate insider’s guide to what’s hot, new, and undiscovered.  You know, the email-based newsletter that has over 2.2 million subscribers.   You know, the ezine that describes itself as being just like your clever, unpredictable, and totally in-the-know best friend … who always shares the scoop.  Yeah, that Daily Candy.  No? You don’t know? And for sure I thought I was the last person on earth to know about Daily Candy.  

I’m not your typical Daily Candy reader.  Well, actually, that’s a big ass lie.  I am the typical Daily Candy reader in that I fit their average reader profile pretty darn close.  But really, I’m NOT the typical reader in that I lack one very important facet – I do not have the voracious appetite for what’s next, new, cool, and must-have.  This, I’ve noticed, is apparently quite necessary if you want to read and “get” what Daily Candy puts out on a daily basis.  I read it.  Whether or not I get it is a whole different issue.  

I only know about Daily Candy because a friend of my mothers, who happens to be one of those people that likes to be in-the-know about everything cool and hip (the friend that is, not my mother),  forwarded me the Daily Candy link saying that she thought I should contact them and start a Daily Candy Buenos Aires.  Yeah right.  Like I just ooze quirky, humorous, witty, chick lit style prose with the over abundance of metaphors.  Please, can you imagine the following coming from me “You’re not livin’ in paradise unless you’re wearing the right sundress” or ” Girl power. Chick lit. Female trouble. It’s okay if you need to vomit a little in your mouth…”  Right.  I didn’t think so.     

Anyhow, so in typical Daily Candy fashion, today’s email touted Top Tips for Girls(TTFG), the website of “an English journalist who was hoarding a plethora of useful information sure to benefit dolls everywhere.”  (Someone tell me, is there something that different between an English journalist and any other type of journalist that it seemed oh so important to point out?)  So of course, curious to see what it was that I didn’t know but obviously needed to know since as we already know, Daily Candy is all about being in-the-know. I checked TTFG out.  Reluctantly, of course.

And here’s what I found. TTFG is like being in the bathroom at a party with millions of women, all of whom want to give you advice.  Okay. What?.  First off, has this ever happened to you?  No, not the being in a bathroom with a million women.  The advice part.  ‘Cause, anytime I’m in a bathroom and there are other women present we all end up checking each other out, giving each other the once over. And, we — yes, that includes YOU too — walk out thinking, among many other things, 1) how could she wear those boots with that skirt, 2) wow, I hate that woman, she can wear any color lipstick and look great and/or 3)  I wish I could be that skinny.  You so do this and you know it! Stop pretending to be a little-miss-goody-two-shoes and admit it already.  

Okay.  So I decided to browse the TTFG site and see what useful advice I could find.  Here are a few I just absolutely *barf* love.  I must warn you, the advice is profound.  (Sorry, but I couldn’t help myself, my own comments are in italics and in parenthesis – kinda like this.) 

• How to be Happy –   Pretend to be in a good mood. You may start to believe yourself.  (Okay, and I thought faking it was only for orgasms.)
• How to be Cool –  Never ever ever start a conversation with, “Hi, I’m an Aries,” because people will think you’re an idiot. (Okay, so start it with “Hi, I want to be cool” will you be my friend. That should do the trick.)
• How to appear feminine and ladylike even if you’re not –  Always take your handbag to the bathroom with you in a restaurant or bar…  (Right on!  There you go, take your handbag with you so that in case anyone thought otherwise you can remind them that you actually are a woman and do in fact menstruate and need your handbag to carry a pad or tampon to the bathroom in an oh so discreet manner.)
• How to de-stress – breathe in love and breathe out fear (inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, wax-on, wax-off, wax-on, wax-off….I don’t know but I think screaming into a pillow or playing a intense game of whack-a-mole might be a bit more productive)

Okay, now listen up!  Someone out there is in deperate need of help.  Please if you know “How to replace a lost twist closure from an Hermes style bag, bought overseas” for goodness sake hurry up and get over to TTFG and solve this girl’s problem.

Now that I got that out of my system.  Here’s my advice tip for the day. 

How to be Happy:  Go see a therapist, and when necessary, take drugs – the prescription kind silly.

If for no other reason then to laugh your ass off at the retarded advice given on this site, check it out.  And please come back and tell me what you think.  

Since I can’t help myself,  I’ll leave you with one last bit of advice from my new favorite website:  How to keep up with family and friends. Start a blog. (Duh!) 

dear mr. postal worker, i want my damn laptop!

Okay, so today is mail day.  We receive mail from the good ole USA every Tuesday and Thursday down here.  We used to receive it on a daily basis, but due to budget cuts, due to a enormously costly war that is going on somewhere over in the middle east, have you heard about it?, we now only get mail two days a week.  This sucks. 

But what sucks even more is that my freakin’ new laptop still hasn’t arrived.  Which just further reaffirms my ire toward the asshole postal worker that decided to steal my laptop.  Some postal worker figured since it was insured for a whopping $2000 s/he could easily take it and we would then be able to file a claim and get a new one in a few months time.  But, I want my laptop NOW, not in a few months.

If said postal worker had not stolen my laptop I could be upstairs right now with my daughter watching Alice and Wonderland and writing something very important – probably about the relationship between Alice and Wonderland and hallucinogenic drugs, because we all know that is an extrememly important topic.  But NO, instead I’m stuck downstairs listening to the stupid while rabbit singing, “I’m late. I’m late. I’m late for an important date.”  While my daughter is sitting all by her lonesome wondering why she has been abandoned by her mother.  So, hear this you heartless postal worker, when my daughter grows up with abandonment issues, suffers from a nervous breakdown in her 20s because she had a bad and negligent mother who spent way too much time parked in front of the desktop computer, it will be you to blame. 

GIVE ME BACK MY DAMN LAPTOP.  Oh, and while you’re at it, if you don’t mind, could you please return that set of All-Clad pots and pans that you stole back in 2003. thanks.