I had a "Moment"

I don't know if I should be proud or concerned but the other day my daughter came into our kitchen with her jeans around her thighs and started jumping.  I asked what she was doing and she said "Mom isn't this what you do to try and get your jeans on?"  I'm still trying to decide if that might be a hint to lose some weight or be proud that she is finally getting what it means to be a girl.

I had already had a rough day.  It was one of those days that the kids suck and you are tired and you didn't sleep much and you still have a lot more things to do.  My son decided to throw a temper tantrum over something dumb so I spanked him.  In return he then pulled down my pants in front of my daughter and husband (and yes I was commando) and create a big hysterical moment so he gets out of being in trouble.  FYI: I prefer no under wear to thongs or sexy underwear because I just don't have the patience for things riding up my butt.  I personally think it is hot when a woman is wearing nothing (obviously not in a skirt or dress) rather than a string riding up her butt crack that probably smells like poop.  So I poured my self a large glass of wine and said "F" it.

I recently began working again bartending/serving a few nights a week at a fine dining restaurant downtown.  I acquired the job by just being at the right place at the right time.  My mom does work there as well but I stopped in to see her one night to have a drink and the next thing I know the bartender is flipping out and throwing chairs.  So, I was hired.  The boss promised me that things like that don't happen there.  Ok, whatever I got this.  Well last weekend I had a colored kid come in while I was behind the bar and he had a cat on his shoulder.  I asked if he needed some help.  He came behind the bar and threw the cat at me.  I am very thankful that I dodged in time and didn't get claws to the face.  I asked him to leave and he asked me for a drink.  I told him he had a drink in his pocket (which he did) so he opened the drink and spit it all over the bar and floor.  By this time my mother had appeared and she went in the back to get the cooks (all guys and some rather large) to escort the gentleman out.  My boss heard of the story and wanted to ask if I was ok and said again "stuff like that doesn't happen here".  I told her I think she is a big fat liar.

The "fake" boob

My husband and I went out a few weeks ago with his best friend and girl friend.  We don't get to go out very much and his friend has been begging us for weeks to meet the new girl friend.  We already blew them off a few times so we met up for some drinks.

Let me give you a little back ground on our friend.  He was my husband's best man at our wedding and a few years later his wife left him for another woman.  We really weren't too surprised because if you saw the wife you knew something was off.  She had a buzzed hair cut (not even exaggerating) and loved to dress in over sized t-shirts and man jean shorts.  However, the friend was obviously devastated and shocked!!  (duh)  She then proceeded to drag him through a nasty divorce and create a mess all over Facebook including bashing my husband and claiming "I hit on her", as Lauren would say "BITCH PLEASE"  Anyways he retaliated by dating one of her friends and fell madly in love with her.  A year later she dies of kidney failure.  No this is not funny but he knew she had serious health issues when he met her and only had months to live.  Now he is dating a woman who has breast cancer and previously had gastric bypass surgery and is dealing with complications from that.  She is in the hospital every other week.  I don't know why he is dating women that are dying.  Maybe he has a good reason for this but I haven't figured it out.

So any who, we meet up on a Friday night and have a few drinks.  She loves to talk and whatever story you tell her she has one better. (Yes one of those people)  Within five minutes of talking to her she is telling us how she was one of the people that got that nasty virus on the cruise ship and had to cancel the trip short.  While she was getting off the ship she tripped and fell and her tooth fell out.  She drove home from NYC and waited to go to the hospital but to this day has a front tooth missing.  (She did get a free cruise out of the deal though)

After that story she tells us about her fake boob.  She only had one breast removed due to the fact that she was not healthy enough to have both of them removed.  So to make up for one boob gone they gave her a silicone insert.  She then proceeded to tell us how she discovered that they float and can survive fire.  (all the while she has her one boob propped on the bar table)  This has only been five minutes into meeting her.  And to her credit the one boob she does have is pretty large.  Apparently when you have a silicone insert it is not a good idea to wear it while you are swimming in the ocean.  They tend to fall out of your bathing suit and yes the do float.  So you might want to give anyone around you a heads up that they might see something rather peculiar floating around.

If you are ever near a fire or may be too close to one, no worries, the silicone insert will be a nice barrier.  While they were camping, our friend's son was playing with the fake boob and dropped it into the fire.  Why he was playing with the boob or why they even let him play with it, I still can't figure out.  There was minor damage but it withstood the heat rather well.  To fix the minor damages, our friend duct taped it, and even better it is camouflage.   And yes she does wear it with the camouflage duct tape. 

So there is your fake boob lesson 101.  I am so glad that I finally got to meet her and I am even more glad that I was already finished eating my dinner.

That's all folks.

Here's Your Sign

The following conversation was between me and my Aunt.  She has lived in NYC for 20+ years and is a comedian.  I love her material and she usually talks mostly about the family.  This is my Dad's side of the family and they are a bunch of crazy Italians.  It really explains why I am the way I am.

My daughter had her tonsils and adenoids removed last week and a few days later she ended up getting pneumonia.  My Aunt and Grandmother stopped over to check on her and this is how the conversation went with my Aunt afterward.

 

That pretty much sums it up

 

 

 

Dana

Drink, Drank, Drunk (And a Mexican Dancing Queen)

In the end of February, my family went on the vacation of a LIFETIME. I mean, this vacation was no joke. It wasn't your average, drive to Ocean City and rough it in a bed bug infested motel vacation (although I'm certainly no stranger to Ocean Shitty OR it's infestations)...this was a legit Kardashian style trip to the island of St. Thomas. We stayed in a GORGEOUS private villa called "Casa Lupa" complete with an ocean view and infinity pool (watch out Bruce Jenner).

The entrance to our villa. Jealous yet?

This trip was amazing. I have never been to a more beautiful place in my life. For our destination wedding/honeymoon/eloping-but-not-really, Joe and I went to Punta Cana in the Dominican Republic. We stayed at an absolutely beautiful resort...the food was fantastic, there was nightly entertainment and plenty of excursions BUT it was one of those...if you step foot off the resort you will either be immediately chopped up with a machete and fed to stray dogs or get run over by a moped with fifteen people riding on it...type deal.

In St. Thomas, we were able to rent a car and explore the island...without fearing for our lives...and there was SO much to explore. Everywhere you went on the island, there was a fantastic view to be seen. We went paddle boarding, island hopping, swimming with dolphins, zip-lining, hiking...I could go on and on and on...but I wanted to write this post about one of my favorite days in particular...the day Sarah, Joe, and I decided to venture down to Charlotte Amalie (the main little town) on our own. 

The trip started out GREAT, driving down the road on the left hand side, blaring our Caribbean music with the top off our sweet Jeep Wrangler rental, wind blowing in our hair, enjoying the never ending views. The 13 mile island is full of little areas that you can pull over if you really want to take it all in...so we decided to do just that.

Magen's Bay. I KNOW, RIGHT.

I do have to admit...the view was not the main reason we pulled over that day. I was not about to leave the island of St. Thomas without taking a picture with this guy:

When you see this kind of photo opportunity calling, you pull over.

Bear, meet Donkey. Donkey, Bear.

His name is Lady Gaga. He really set the tone for the rest of the day.

My Aunt and Uncle warned us to avoid Charlotte Amalie on the days that the cruise ships would be in town because they often dock in the Charlotte Amalie harbor and allow the passengers out to shop or grab a quick lunch...which makes for a huge clusterfuck of souvenir hungry tourists. Did we listen? Of course not. We wanted to go shopping and we wanted to do it NOW. 

Charlotte Amalie was PACKED. Clusterfuck, indeed.

It took us almost half an hour to find a decent parking spot, at which point we were beginning to get hungry, grumpy, and a little sunburned (riding around with the top down always winds up being one of those "it seemed like a good idea at the time" type things...between sunburn and rat's nest hair, you can't win).

Once we finally found a parking spot, we decided to grab lunch since we were getting cranky. We needed sustenance if we were going to be shoving our way through Jimmy Buffet looking tourists all day. We saw a giant sign for a place called Senor Frogs and figured that place was as good as any!

Little did we know what Senor Frogs had in store for us...

You see, what started as an innocent (and rather expensive) lunch trip:

Quickly turned into:

Drink. Drank. Drunk.

APPARENTLY Senor Frogs is THE go-to party spot on the island of St. Thomas. 

I'm not sure what they spiked our $20 Pina Coladas with...but we definitely got our moneys-worth because when Sarah and I heard the DJ announce free shots for anyone who could successfully toss a beanbag into a hole, we literally flew out of our chairs to volunteer ourselves. The DJ (pictured above pouring copious amounts of alcohol down our throats) handed us three bean bags each...giving us three chances to sink them and redeem our prize. 

First bean bag - miss. 

Second bean bag - miss. 

Third bean bag - thrown so far away from the goal that it's probably lost in the Caribbean seas right now.

No free shots for us...

...or so we thought.

The DJ celebrated like we had swished each and every bag through the target. "YOU WIN! 5 FREE SHOTS FOR BOTH OF YOU!" Sarah and I were confused...but who were we to be rude and turn down this generous pity prize for the American girls with no aim. 5 shots each...down the hatch.

"3 MORE FREE SHOTS FOR BOTH OF YOU"

Sarah and I looked at each other, again confused...We lost the bean bag game (quite embarrassingly, in fact) but this DJ was still pouring alcohol at our faces...must be sort of American translation issue, we thought. Regardless, he continued to pour. And pour and pour and pour. After guzzling our body weight in free shots, we started giving our shots away. A handful for Joe and one Big Gulp for this guy with a balloon hat.

Because you get awfully generous when you're drunk.

You're Welcome.

After that binge drinking episode (all within about 10 minutes), Joe urged us to take it easy...have a seat and enjoy our enormous $40 appetizer. We followed his voice of reason and tried to soak up the rum with chicken tenders and quesadillas. While we were eating, the DJ had moved on and was now standing on top of the bar...corralling volunteers for his next attempt to give a tourist alcohol poisoning - a Mexican dancing competition.  

The goal: do your best Mexican style dance to Mexican style music...when the music stops, take a shot of tequila and holler like a Mexican. Once everyone got their turn, the winner would be chosen by the amount of applause they received from the audience. 

As we watched the contestants dance and ate our taquitos, Sarah looked at me with disgust and said, "Have these people ever seen Mexicans dance? I mean, everyone knows you USE YOUR ARMS." She did her interpretation of a Mexican hand gesture which caught the attention of Mr. DJ who challenged her, "You think you can do better? Come on up!" Sarah was hesitant at first, but Joe and I told her she totally had it in the bag and next thing you know, there she was...on top of the bar bopping around to Mexican music. Challenge accepted.

Her dance was on point and her Mexican battle-cry, although stifled by tequila, was extremely convincing. Like I said, she had it in the bag. Once all the contestants had finished their jigs, the DJ lined them all up and hovered his hands over their heads, telling the audience to clap for their favorite Mexican. The old lady and 16 year old boy were eliminated immediately (duh).

SORRY NOT SORRY

It was down to Sarah and some other wannabe Mexican chick. I wish I could say it was close, but Sarah won by a landslide. The audience of old man tourists hooted and hollered for Sarah...not to mention the drunken screams and cheers coming from myself alone. Poor Joe...we petite ladies just can't hang with shots on shots on shots.

MEXICAN QUEEN OF ST THOMAS

SURPRISE. You win more free shots!

Needless to say, once we left Senor Frogs, our shopping trip was less than enjoyable. Walking around the shops of Charlotte Amalie in the hot sun, with shots upon shots upon shots sloshing around in our bellies, we became just as uncomfortable and grumpy as we were before we went to Senor Frogs in the first place. Even despite leaving our shopping trip-turned day drinking extravaganza hammered, dehydrated, and on the verge of vomiting...this excursion remains one of the top five moments on my highlight reel from our stay in St. Thomas. Between the Lady Gaga sighting, getting shots poured into my mouth, and watching Sarah bust a Mexican move...what more could you ask for??

Five Things Friday

SO! I've decided I'd like to take this blog a little more seriously...and instead of writing about once a MONTH, I've set the goal of writing three times a week. DREAM BIG, I know.

In order to do so, I need to plan these posts ahead of time and one thing I've noticed other blogs doing is a weekly "Five Things Friday" post, listing out the most notable things that have happened throughout the week...I figure that's an easy way to guarantee me at least one post a week so I'm gonna give it a go! This weeks theme: Stress Management.

1. Monday sucked...as most Mondays do. I had a dentist appointment which is never a good way to start your week. ESPECIALLY a dentist appointment that ends in hysterical tears over a Mystery Diagnosis. I swear, my obsession with that show throughout high school has finally come to bite me in the ass. After enjoying episode after episode of people suffering, it was only a matter of time before it happened to me. Next thing you know I'll have an "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" moment and a baby will suddenly fall out of my vag.

Anyway, the only way to ease the pain of a dental disaster (or ease any pain at all) is a little Target retail therapy. Target Therapy ALWAYS brings me down a couple notches on the "MY LIFE IS TERRIBLE" scale. However, with this particular Target run, I didn't have any specific purchases in mind so I left with quite the random assortment of stuff: yoga pants, a rug, a book, and a card.

I feel much better now.

The new rug. Piggy tested and approved.

2: Another method of dealing with emotional distress is to make a drastic change to your hair. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about. So I took a long lunch break on Tuesday and chopped all my hair off. I lost a good six inches...which can be traumatizing BUT it only took me five minutes to blow dry my hair this morning so I'm pretty psyched. AND THINK OF HOW LONG MY SHAMPOO WILL LAST.

The new doo.

3. Joe has a new schedule going on at work and we haven't been seeing much of each other lately. His unusual schedule has been a GREAT thing for our relationship in the past, but now I only get to see him two days out of the week and that makes for a LOT of alone time. I used to take advantage of this time to myself and catch up on the shows I like that Joe doesn't...but I already did that...and now I'm bored.

SO my sister, Sarah, and I decided to take a weekly community yoga class together. (You can read about my past traumatic yoga experiences here). Sarah and I haven't been to a yoga class together since we were in high school...and this yoga class reminded me why: we have a hard time taking ANYTHING seriously when we're together...I mean, the slightest thing like not being able to keep our balance or the sound of Sarah's granny hips popping would throw us into that awkward stifled laughter that sounds like you're about to hock a big ol' lugee.

I'm totally looking forward to next week.

Pre-yoga Selfie

4. After weeks of anticipation and a brand new deck with nowhere to sit, OUR OUTDOOR FURNITURE FINALLY ARRIVED...in a bunch of boxes...which means that there are lots of temper tantrums to be had this weekend.

Some assembly required...

5. The best for last: SARAH STARTED A BLOG! She makes me laugh and maintains my sanity on a regular basis. I highly suggest you check her out. You can follow her hilarious antics here.

She's funny AND pretty.