July IS a special month for many reasons.
The biggest reason is that is the month of my birth. Duh. The 20th is a magical day, which when I’m in charge, will become a National holiday. Until then, we can pretend. I have a great party planned for the Friday the 11th at McMenamins Edgefield. I’ve invited about 25 of my closest friends and the new guy I’m dating. But wait, oh that’s right, the OTHER reason July is so special…Carly-Ann is coming to visit! Hooray! Hooray!
Carly-Ann arrives on the 10th and is in town for the ENTIRE weekend. What kind of debauchery will we get into next?
It was a good weekend, despite the absence of any crazy episodes to share. We had a good time and, damn, we got around, but as far as stories go, I’m not sure we really have any. Or maybe I just can’t remember them quite yet…
Only three days until my Amy arrives in Van. This time, she had the good sense to fly. An abundance of adventure stories are just around the corner, kiddies. Hold tight.
Y’all know I got a new job, right? Well, this is something drastically different from anything I’ve been doing any other time in my working career. How well I’ll perform at a task so completely foreign remains to be seen, but so far, fifteen (working) days into being a nine-to-fiver there are several things I’ve had to get used to (or at least try, anyway.) Most of the changes so far have been positive, in fact, I can’t really think of a single truly negative modification. Well, except for getting up in the morning. Every day. Ugh. That sucks.
But, anyway, as I was saying… here’s the good stuff.
- Wearing nice, presentable clothes every day. I’ve said it often in the past, I hate the whole jeans and hoodie thing. Doing physical labour, I often got dirty at work (my clothes, I mean, geez, you guys…) I got rid of about half of my clothes this past weekend knowing that I’ll never need to dress in expendable clothing again. Love it.
- Make up. Okay, so it’s my new thing. 33 years of not ever knowing what the hell foundation was for or how the fuck you could fit four different colours from one eyeshadow palette onto your face at the same time, I’m golden. I’m lucky I went to Portland when I did. I’ve worn make up every day since I started this gig.
- Having a regular schedule. That hasn’t been the case for me in my lifetime of working so it’s kind of cool to not have to negotiate a calendar of alternating days and nights and afternoons for once. And when someone suggests a date for dinner, a movie, whatever, I already know that I can make it, provided I haven’t already booked something on the night in question.
Now here’s the tough part… I’m not in the habit of being able to make plans every night of the week so when I stroll into my apartment at 3:30 or 4 pm at the latest, I always hit this wall of “well, what do I do now???” My biggest struggle has been remembering to make some plans for what I’m doing at night. Sure, I could stick around home, I mean, there are only about 8 million things I should be doing here, but that’s just not where I’m at right now. I want to get out and I want to do shit. I just never remember to lay the groundwork for that. This past week, for example, I managed to log some time shopping (a new favourite pastime – I’m still building my new wardrobe!) and I got to see Juno (finally! LOVED it) and grab some dinner with a girlfriend, and another night I made it out for some drinks with a different friend, but that was about it. The rest of the days, I might go for a run or a walk, grab a coffee or something, hit the library, eventually make myself dinner and then I just kind of pass the time until I hit the hay and then I go back to work. I know that if I made the effort, I could have plans galore, but it’s just… I don’t know what it is. Weird.
I wish Amy was here. Then, I know I could do happy hour at least once a week…
I miss her.
Filed under: Amy wrote..., Showing off, The Carly and Amy Show | Tags: Cancun, vacation
Not usually how Mexicans say it….but nonetheless I am off to sunny, insatiable Cancun for a week long vacation. I know, I know..you must be thinking, “That sexy haired biatch! Who does she think she is flaunting her vacation like that?” Well, I’ll tell ya….hope your miserable weather, wherever you are, doesn’t sink you down into a deep depression.
You must also be wondering, “Why Cancun? Why not Paris?” Well, I’ll tell ya….my dear friend Erika didn’t want to get married in Paris. She wanted tropical and sunny, alas Cancun. I’ll be staying at the RIU Palace Las Americas. Sounds fancy, huh? Well, I’ll tell ya….it is. Not to make you any more jealous, the RIU is an all-inclusive resort (free liquor 24-7 baby!) which promises not to disappoint. I will be the real judge of that.
Anyhow, I’m leaving in the morning..try not to miss me whilst I am away frolicking on the sandy, sun-soaked beaches of Cancun getting serviced by cabana boys. Until we meet again, enjoy your rain.
*Normally I don’t like to put scantily clad photos of myself on the Internet (I’m on the right), but I thought, since you all are so sad about being stuck in your town I’d show you how much fun I had on my last trip to Mexico. Toodaloo!
Amy’s a lot of things. One of them is a sweetheart. Just one example: she indulges my little Sephora obsession, she defers to it lovingly. She buys me Sephora gift cards as presents and she’ll drive way the hell and gone to get me to the humongous mall that houses the closest location to her house. What I’ve noticed is that she always does it with a smile on her face (and have I mentioned her great hair?) but the truth is, I’ve never really noticed the gleeful sparkle in my eye reflected in hers. It’s weird.
I’ve visited many a Sephora. It started in Paris and since then, there’s been trips to Seattle, Honolulu and the aforementioned times in Portland. I’ve never said this to anyone before, even though I’ve been thinking it for a while, but each visit has me feeling less and less excited. I’ve begun to wonder whether I’m the problem or Sephora is. Has the shine worn off the former place of my dreams? Or has said place gone downhill? Still, I’ll wander through and inevitably make a purchase, sometimes I even order online, but it just doesn’t have the same excited feel to it anymore. Hmmm….
As mentioned above, I’m kind of over it. And really, it couldn’t come at a more interesting time. You’ll see why later.
That realization made this article even more entertaining to read.
And we were having such a nice time. So civilized and great. Shared vegetarian lettuce wraps and a nice meat-full and meat-free lunch at the local PF Chang’s and then this…
Um, excuse me if I’m wrong, but isn’t MY fortune supposed to be about, you know, ME??? And all of a sudden, I’ve got this sobbing girl on my arm (Amy) who wants to know what it is I’m going to do to make her sad in the first place. Ugh. You know what, PF? I don’t have time for this. Get new writers.
You gotta give a girl a break. I never eat potato chips. And I looooove potato chips. It’s been months. (And months and months.) What started this was the little barbecue we had at Amy’s. The chips were put out and damn! I had to have some. It’s not like I’d been avoiding them, I just hadn’t had any. Until then… after that, they were all I could think about.
Friday night, on your way home for a marathon night with the Feud, we stopped in at Safeway for some drinks and… well, we were there for drinks, but I had a great idea! I was going to buy some vegan chips! Amy pointed me towards flax, bean and soy chips and I redirected her towards the pure junk food. I was looking for something grossly unhealthy, just minus any dairy, you know?? Anyway, I was rushed, I picked up the first bag of Ruffles I saw that were labeled plain. Well. I learned my lesson. Read the fine print, kids. Or the obvious details printed in bold and highlighted on the product. What an ass I am.
As soon as I realized my mistake, Amy tried to convince me the rest of the way home that it was healthier that I chose baked. Pfft. Let’s face it, I eat vegetables for my existence, I deserve a little fat now and then…
We got home, put on the four shows we’d DVRd over the day we’d been gone and broke out the snacks. She had French Onion Sunchips. I had BAKED freaking Lays. I’m sure I saw her smirking at me as I dug in.
Let the photos from today do the talking about my experience last night.
Here’s my Public Service Announcement… Potato chips are for fun, folks. Not for everyday. It’s my belief that if you eat them once in a while in moderation, they’re good shit. In fact, they’re off the hook. So fuck the baked shit, screw looking for the lower fat content. Instead, try getting in touch with some self-restraint. If that’s what you’re worried about, that is…
Not everyone wakes up fresh as a daisy. We’ll be the first to admit that we’re part of that crew. Let’s face it, no grown woman eats formerly frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when she’s at her best so cut us some slack in the looks department on this installment, capiche?
Smucker’s calls them Simple Pleasure… Made Even Simpler. “We’ve sealed the goodness of a SMUCKER’S PB&J sandwich inside soft bread and removed the crust. All you do is thaw and serve – A simple way to enjoy one of life’s simple pleasures.”
Huh. Never heard of them. Not sure we have these in Canada, but who cares, really? Unless…
That’s how they roll. A little gingham. A little fruit… Typical Smucker’s.
Again, appealing. Thinking like a five year old, of course. I don’t know, but the packaging seemed a little suspect to me. A little too pure for white bread and sugar loaded PB and too sweet jelly for me. (It isn’t even fruit filled enough to call it jam. Or do they not say that down here? …Amy?)
Anything’ll look better if you hire a great looking backdrop to frame it in…
Okay, really. You’d think that the bread would be all soft and shit, but it’s actually pretty firm. And the peanut butter? Abundant. The jelly? Totally there. Ugh.
The jelly just drips out! I wanted to hate this stuff, but when it comes down to it, it’s actually pretty good. Of course, there’s no sense in looking at the nutritional content nor is there any way you ought to feed it to your kids on a regular basis (or ever), but it’s a fun hangover indulgence.
And Amy says it’s worth licking your fingers for.
STEP ONE: Look cute after convincing the World Market staff that a table and four chairs CAN fit in a Civic hatchback, then concede that maybe the table does need to come out of the box. (Warning: Be sure to rock great hair while doing so.)
STEP TWO: Enjoy three minutes of PDX sun while waiting for delivery of chairs from the warehouse.
STEP THREE: Work on selling the rest of the world that the Civic really can hold everything you want it to. That’s positive thinking for you…
STEP FOUR: Stuff, stuff, stuff.
STEP FIVE: Don’t hesitate to injure friends in the process.
STEP SIX: Indulge said injured friends in their greatest weaknesses. (That wrist doesn’t look so sore now, does it?)
STEP SEVEN: Get everything inside the house.
STEP EIGHT: Read the instructions, kids. (She’s totally faking that. It’s actually an E!News update on Britney’s whereabouts. And Amy’s catching a little nap, anyway.)
STEP NINE: Laugh while you look like you know what you’re doing.
SHE LIKES TO SCREW: No step here. But it’s no wonder that they say she likes to… screw.
FINISHED PRODUCT
ENJOYING THE FRUITS OF OUR LABOUR: Drinks to celebrate came later and often.
