Wednesday, January 31, 2007

I'm My Own Valentine

I was standing in my closet this morning before going to bed (yeah I went to bed after the sun was up, someone had to keep an eye on the night while the lazy ass sun was sleeping) and I was thinking about a what if. What if I had a Valentine, and I was picking out my outfit for our date. I realized I have some of the hottest outfits ever, and no one to wear them for. Why didn't I dress like this before? I pick up my little green and black pleated mini skirt and hold it up. That'll do, oh that'll more than do. I slide it on to that spot where it hangs from my hips effortlessly. I have a totally new personality from the one I sported this time last year, I wonder if any of this is just my look. I try not to be obnoxious, but I certainly don't mind staring at myself in this mirror. I'm my own personal barbie, only with a better rack. I slip into my new knee high boots. They are way too tall, way too much, but sometimes I am too. My leopard or my pink bra... the leopard is probably the fiercest thing to ever touch my skin. Leopard it is and back to the mirror to admire the effect. You know people always talk about how hard the holidays are when you are alone, especially Valentines Day. I don't see, feel, whatever, that. I'm not even remotely tempted to call up one of those boys just to have a hand to hold, someone to take me out, take me home with them. I turn to the side, flash my favorite look back at the mirror, that one I always save. Honestly, I'm not worried, none of them deserve this anyway.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Behind Enemy Lines

We'll get to Costco in a moment... first I must set the scene...

As many of you know, I have worked at Sahara Sun for a long time. I love it, it's easy, I watch movies and I Myspace all day. Life is good, however, I have never been given a raise for how excellently I complete these activities. This has made me feel exceedingly underappreciated lately. It's been almost three years... I need a raise.

I have been carefully planning my attack for a couple weeks now, trying to grow a ball and get up the guts to ask. Then, as fate would have it, one co-worker and the manager quit this week. Perfect timing, ask the boss while she's panicking and doesn't know what she's agreeing to. So I asked, she said no.

Then she said she'd think about it.

Today she said yes. Finally, my first raise.

I'm feelin good. I'm feelin bold. I'm feelin... like buying my first ipod. The pink one. The one whose name I screamed out instead of the boy I was last with. "Oooo pink iPod! Oh baby I love you so much!! God you are so fucking hott!!!" Needless to say, I didn't get asked out on a second date... but I digress.

So I would have loved to pop over to the Apple store, because walking in makes me feel like a blonde moth flying into a bug zapper. I suddenly forget my name and run into everything and everyone... and drool a little. I blame the lights. But it's too expensive. So is Best Buy. And, well I could do Ebay, but I need pink iPod now... I've been calling my pink razor pink iPod for the last hour, and she's threatening to leave. So Walmart or Costco it is.

I love Walmart and hate Costco. You would think I would hate Costco because of the crowds or its power to convince you that you really need 172 rolls of toilet paper and a 24 pack of crest toothpaste. But no, I hate Costco because it is elitist. It thinks it's better because it requires membership cards and there are people at the door to pat you down and do cavity searches every time you go in (that's not just me, right?).

So walmart. pink iPod: $197. Sigh... ok that's a lot, but that's probably what it is as Costco. It has to be... but what if it is less there... Eric said it was under $100 there, can I really take that risk? No. To Costco.

I hate Costco so much that I don't have a card, it's the principle, you know? However, my dad left his in his car. So I have it. Could I sneak pass as him? Perhaps. Is it worth the risk? Sigh. Tes, yes it is... ok men, watch my back... I'm moving in!!

My heart is literally pounding. I wonder what they do if they catch you with someone else's card? Tar and feather? Sell you to prostitution or gypsies? Crucifixion? I don't know, but if I died, I'd consider myself a martyr. Which makes me smile.

I flash my card like I've totally done this before... and I'm in. I'm actually a little overwhelmed with my sneakiness for a minute and giggle. I quickly pull myself together and move into the electronics section and try to blend in like everything is normal... but i keep giggling every so often.

I find the iPods. Pink iPod: $187. Bingo baby, bingo. I resist the urge to do a roll over to the ipods with my fingers shaped like a gun, like a Charlie's Angel would. I manage to make it through the check-out without giggling or cracking under the extreme pressure, which would entail me screaming out "Ok I did it!!! I'm a fraud, take me away!!!" and holding my wrist out like the filthy criminal I am. Oh maybe pink fuzzy handcuffs... I feel a movie inspiration coming on.

So happy ending. Me and pink iPod will be strutting down Alvarado tomorrow in hott red pumps and a mini skirt, pretending to be in NYC, pink iPod blasting KT Tunstall's "Suddenly I See"... and we'll be absolutely fabulous.

The end.

Monday, January 8, 2007

Guy Masterbating at the Cherry Bean:1 Cori:0

Because I married young, I was excused from many of the horrors that the typical single female must endure. I must be honest, the jokes about the absurdities men will go through to get a girl in bed seemed to just that, only jokes, as no one was doing much of anything to get me in bed. I believe what I see. Oh me of little faith...

Well consider me a believer. I have for a long time wanted to blog about some of the crazy dates I've been on and the insane ways that guys have tried to score me, but I'm usually on to the next car wreck of a date before I can really mentally process that last. I'd love to get into it all now... but my most recent emotional scarring needs to be released into cyberspace.

I made the decision to stop dating about... uhhhh a week ago. this means I have a lot of extra time on my hands, which I like to spend quietly with the new puppy, Seamus, at the Cherry Bean. I'm at the Bean almost every night. No one bothers me there. Last night, it was like fate cashed in on me, making me pay for my countless perfect evenings all at once.

I sat at the window and began typing away at my laptop, passing a cookie to Seamus and stopping to people watch every so often. An older guy sat down next to me, asked me a few questions about my dog (he is a different looking dog so I tolerate the questions) and began reading his paper. Every so often he would look up and ask me a few more questions, which I would answer, without looking up, in my most I-am-busy-and-uninterested-in-you-but-am-being-polite voice. Finally, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed he was awkwardly turned towards me and staring at me. Freak. Then he began asking slightly more personal questions, like where did I grow up and what career was I looking to go into. Taken aback by his cluelessness, I finally looked up only to see he was full on jacking off behind his paper. I know! OMG! Not like that slow creepy rub some guys do via pocket, he was going to town! Fortunately it was in his pants, but the whole ordeal was very visible.

So, I picked up my stuff and high tailed it out of there. As I got up he did too and followed me out. Yeah, rape at the Cherry Bean, I knew I was soon going to become a lifetime movie. My attack pit bull did nothing but wag his tail happily (thanks seamus, he's actually bull terrier and corgie or something)... so I threw him in the car and drove home to shower... with lysol and bleach.