Saturday, December 29, 2007


So, last night I went to a dance club for the third time in 4 months. I've probably been out to dance clubs more in the last 4 months than the last 4 years, but whatever. The club Industry had closed and was "reopening" for one night only, so me & Damon, April, Brian, Clisty & Julie went out. We're hanging out near the bar, and it's about 10pm and first off there's chicks giving out free shots. Nice!

And then we see ... the lesbians. There's two chicks standing next to a post and they are making out like crazy. I mean boob gropin' lip smackin' standing on one leg with the other wrapped around the chick like no one else in the world exists making out hard. And it goes on for twenty minutes.
Like damn, wow, right? Then when they stop, they start dancing with two gay guys on the floor, and making out with them. How do we know the men are gay? They dance with their hands above their head. Gaaaay!

So, I've been sick all week and I'm on Sudafed so I can move, so I'm not drinking and people are having a good time. We start dancing and I'm getting into it, I'm gangly and awkward and I think back to this one time I was on a dance floor for some high school thing. I'm with people who are supposedly my best friends and my one "best" friend comes up to me and says, you look like a tree swaying in the wind, and then laughed at me. Wonderful for my self esteem, thanks bitch. She's not my friend anymore. So anyway, we're at Industry dancing and I think of this, and then April walks up to me, leans in, and says, "you're hot."
THIS is why I love April. This is why she is my friend.

Anyway, the night goes on and then I see this person behind me dancing who is huge, and my first thought is... Is that a dude? And yep, sure enough, we're pretty sure it's a dude, in a dress, dancing. And I think later, I usually scan the room, and if I see somebody as tall as me or taller, a lot of times my first thought is, is that a dude? And then I realized people might do that to me. If I'm in a room, and people look around and spot me as tallest, do they immediately wonder if I'm a dude? I get called sir a lot. I certainly hope not. That would really suck. I'd rather they scan the room and spot me and say, damn that's one tall bitch!

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Holiday Cheer

Yeah, I'll see if I can muster up some. Meh. So it was a good day. Started early (because it's Christmas and you have to get up early to open gifts!) and I got warm stuff (yay sweaters!) and...
GUITAR HEROES! Stand back boys and girls, I'm gonna rock out. But first I'm going to whonk and plink and get booed. It takes practice, you see... I'm very excited about it. Oh yes. Very excited.
So, then family time and it was off to his parents first. Nice time, nice food.
So, then off to my family... and it's the usual. As we walk in the door, my sister is piling things on her bed, and then covers it with a blanket... to make it look clean. Her kids are running around not really being watched and the place is kind of a mess. We give the girls their gifts and before the younger one (who's just turned three) even can open hers, my sister grabs her and says, "Come with me." I guessed there was a diaper change needed? I wasn't listening. I don't know. I don't want to know.
I think to myself that that was odd, she seems awful urgent to change a diaper - not the usual mode here.
My mom whispers to me, "as soon as she goes she takes off all her clothes, and the diaper" which made me laugh my ass off. Every time the kid goes to the bathroom, she just strips down buck naked - diaper included. That is awesome. It's like saying, hey, change me, or you'll find it on the floor. Brilliant.
So, the night goes on... and over dinner I was talking to my Aunt Cathy, who I adore and never see, and we were talking about work, being busy and I said that I hadn't even had a chance to start Christmas shopping until Saturday. My sister chimes in with "Yeah, I didn't start shopping until two weeks ago."
One, I don't care.
Two, that is plenty of time.
Three, I replied with, "Yeah, it must be hard to find time to shop when you... don't.... have..... a ..... job." But as I said it my voice got quieter and quieter as the conscience in my head told me to be nice, you only see her twice a year, play nice.
Fine, I'll play nice.
So, now the grand finale, we're over with dinner and watching tv and little Houdini (the younger one) has been a three-year-old all night, she's into EVERYTHING. I yell at her to stop grabbing full glasses of beverage off the kitchen table (while she's standing NEXT TO her mother) and husband yells at her for throwing things, and Joe yells at her for getting into things in the kitchen. The kid just has free reign.
So, husbands sitting on the couch and she walks up to him with her hands behind her back, and just stands there and stares at him. He says, you want to come sit up here? She just stares. It's a little creepy. Then her older sister sees her and yells, "HANNAH'S GOT A KNIFE!" and Hannah (the little one) turns and runs at her sister with the carving knife. This is no small knife. So, the adults finally jump and grab it from her little mischievous hands.
We all wow about it for a minute, and then my dad says, "It would have been really funny if it hadn't been quite so dangerous!"
Indeed! Stay away from my husband you creepy knife-wielding diaper shedding toddler.
Kids. Eek!

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Taste the rainbow

Joe's in town!! I know most of his lame-ass friends don't care, but I do! So, tonight we went to the necto and met up with his friends Rochelle and Scott, and it was pretty kick ass. Upon first arriving it seemed to be heifer night. The average weight of each individual on the dance floor must have been 250 pounds. We instead started the night with shots! Lemon drop! Yum. Beer! Yum. Another beer!
Now it's time to shake it. After a while the place is hoppin. Not like that one time at the gay club in New York, but it's busy for Ann Arbor. It's "pride" night so there's lots of fem-males making out and lots of she-males wigglin, but it's all fun in the name of shakin' your ass so get out there and shake it. The people watching is pretty great. The guy in the back with no shirt on, yet wearing a santa hat, is quite pleased to gyrate with the stripper pole to no end. He's wiggling and writhing, and 20 minutes later, he's still there. He now has shirtless friends. Hanging upside down on said stripper pole, or doing handstands. Yes. Handstands in a dirty bar. We dance and have a merry time and then the dj plays Nickelback. The dance floor empties. Nickelback sucks. Afterward they coax the dancers back out with some choice tunes. The kind of music with bass that reverberates from the soles of your feet through the top of your skull and you can feel the pounding of the beat in your chest down to your core. You just close your eyes and your entire body vibrates with the pulse until you feel your every molecule must be dancing along to the beat. Fuckin A. Then they play Mariah Carey, All I want for Christmas is you. Everybody screams. It's on now. Oh yeah...! After a hard 50-hour workweek I needed to burn off some steam. Thank you, Necto.
So yes. Good times.
We depart and head for the Fleetwood. Time for nourishment. We get in and order and food comes fast. There's this incredibly drunk guy in the corner, staring at us. Just staring. Staring. We were all very involved with replenishing our tummies with our greasy food and when the inebriated man reached his grubby hand out and snatched a handful of Rochelle's french fries, we all stared in dumfounded amazement. We stopped eating, we didn't move, we didn't talk. We just stared at the man in awe, as he munched happily on his prize.
Then we all start stammering at once, a blur of "Did he just do," "What the Fuck?" and "Wait, what?" "Did that really just happen?" As the drunk man's friend realized what he had done and pulled his attention away from us and apologized.
We just continued to be amazed. Mouths gaping. Questioning stares. That drunk guy really just reached over and stole a handful of her food. Really? Damn. Wow.
I mean. That's balls, man. You'd get your ass kicked doing that in New York. Good thing you're in friendly A2 town.
Seriously, you know you're drunk when you steal food from strangers.


Thursday, December 20, 2007

A little sap for the holidays

See, I'm really not a whiny, mean cold-hearted bitch, I swear.
This is the sweetest thing I've read in a while and you should enjoy....
I really hope it's not fake.
Happy Holidays. Love you all.

This is re-posted from Craigslist best of.

This is one of the kindest things I've ever experienced. I have no way to know who sent it, but there is a kind soul working in the dead letter office of the US postal service. Our 14 year old dog, Abbey, died last month. The day after she died, my 4 year old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could so she dictated these words:

Dear God, Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick. I hope you will play with her. She likes to play with balls and to swim. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her.

Love, Meredith.

We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had.

Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, 'To Meredith' in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, 'When a Pet Dies.' Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note:

Dear Meredith,

Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help. I recognized Abbey right away. Abbey isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets to keep your picture in, so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by. Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I am wherever there is love.

Love, God

Monday, December 17, 2007

Blizzard driving

So, you should know by now that we got about a foot of snow today. Which brings me to give you all a little lesson on HOW TO DRIVE IN THE SNOW.

Look, you're from Michigan. You should fucking know how to do this already, but no, it's clearly apparent after today that no, most of you have no clue. Here's the deal...

Step 1. Before you even leave your fucking house, clear off your fucking car. I mean the whole thing, the roof, the back window, the front window. Hell, while you're at it, clear ALL the windows. AND the mirrors, and your headlights, you friggin idiot. You need to be able to see.

Step 2. Make sure you have proper equipment in your car. Put a damn ice scraper/snow scraper in your car!

Step 3. Turn on your car, make sure your windshield wipers aren't frozen, stuck or otherwise not functioning. You don't have to do this all the time, just in snow and ice!

Step 4. TURN ON YOUR HEADLIGHTS. It may be bright outside but you clearly are not. The headlights are for everyone else so we don't hit your stupid ass. Make yourself visible. Turn your headlights on in inclement weather! You jackass.

Step 5. Drive with caution. GIVE OTHER CARS SPACE! I can't count the number of times today I saw a line of cars, all following so closely, so closely that not another car could even merge in. In the snow, that's too close, you jackasses are going to get in an accident and hit me and then I'll have to get out of my warm car with heated seats and punch you in the neck.

Step 6. Stop HITTING YOUR FUCKING BRAKES! Do you understand friction? If you hit your brakes you're more likely to lose control of your car. Your vehicle is big. Your vehicle is heavy. If you just take your foot off the gas it SLOWS DOWN ALL BY ITSELF. Nearly as quickly as tapping the brakes. And hey, guess what? jackasses. You keep control of your car.

Step 7. Slow the fuck down. Days like this people understand. It's okay to be late. When you speed in this weather you are endangering others, you jackass. Especially when you pass and there aren't really any clear lanes so you stay within inches of the other car, while weaving all over the road. Four wheel drive doesn't make you God. Stop it!

Step 8. Use your brain. Put your fucking phone/food/cigarette/coffee down. This is the time to concentrate on the task at hand.

Step 9. If you get stuck (and we helped you jackasses out of the snow today) when someone is pushing your car, don't turn the wheel all over the place. Keep the friggin thing straight. It makes it easier to push your car in a straight line! Hello?!

Step 10. Arrive safely. Follow my rules and I won't have to keep swearing at you! Jackasses!!

Don't be this guy!

Saturday, December 15, 2007

Video games

So, here's a short but funny story. I was watching tv online, (because I have special needs tivo) and the show I was watching went off and so I went into the living room and found this:

Asleep at the wheel

Yes. He is asleep. Yes, the video game is running. Yes.
He actually fell asleep while playing a video game.

Now that's exhaustion.

Friday, December 14, 2007

Smells like Christmas

So, tonight was husband's work xmas party and it was, well, kind of lame. The people are nice, but most of them are engineers (read: geeky), (Proof? they spent 10 minutes comparing GPS devices) and the company cheaped out this year a bit. Still open bar (woo hoo!) but no snacks (boo!) so hey, you give me booze but no food, guess what? Somebody is driving me home. Anyway, I don't know how you make pink filet mignon super dry but the restaurant did it. Good job guys. And thanks for the gift, I gave my bottle of Brut champagne to one of husband's co-workers. I don't mean to be snarky, I had a good time. It's likely all the xmas work party I'm gonna get.

So, now since my work has like 2.5 employees I guess we don't get a Christmas party, which is too bad because I like this kind of shit. I need co-workers, I need to be social. So, I called April to bum off her work and lo and behold, she has no party either. Bummer. Two years ago I went with her to her xmas party in West Bloomfield and it was so money we renamed ourselves Muffy and Anastasia for the night, and laughed our asses off when some chick fell down a flight of stairs. (stop with that look, she was fine...) Anyway. I need some holiday party! You got a holiday party? You need to bring a friend? I'm in. Bring me some holiday cheer! Give a girl some xmas spirit! Come on!

In other news... I am really enjoying watching Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares on BBC America. He basically goes to failing kitchens, swears a lot, comes up with great ideas, great food and if the idiot employees do what he says, they save the place. If they don't, they continue to struggle. It's fucking great.

Bonus: In every single episode (and I do mean EVERY episode) they film Ramsay as he changes from street clothes to chef clothes. So, in every episode you see him shirtless as he changes his clothes. What is with that???

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

NYC & the plague

so, I'm in NYC. Again. I've been here so many times and it is getting so familiar that now it kind of feels like coming home. Ah, New York. I missed you. No interesting cab rides this time. A very mundane subway ride. The city is all decked out to the nines for the Christmas Holiday. They go all out here. Really. ALL OUT. They built a token menorah to make the Hannukah (yeah I can't spell it and don't feel like looking it up right now, so suck it) people. Apparently it's the world's largest menorah. And it looks stupid. Sorry. It does look stupid.
I doubt I'll see much of my brother this visit as he's working 9am to 10pm the entire time I'm here. I had big aspirations of all the things I could do. Maybe I'd get some xmas shopping in or a museum or two, or maybe Central Park.
Naaaah. I had a sore throat develop throughout the day and am now feeling pretty freakin crummy. Got that head to toe evil body ache and I'm so tired and I just spent the last 3 hours under the blankets hiding in my room watching movies on my PSP. Thank you for making the movie Love Actually. It's so perfect today for those of us recovering from burning the candle at both ends. So, hopefully I will have fought off the plague by tomorrow instead of having it escalate to something really fun like Pneumonia or Dysentery. I'm so fabulous.

Saturday, December 8, 2007


So, I've got photos on Flickr. Recently I've been tagging them with keywords and geo-tagging them by putting their location on a map. As a result I now have people looking at my photos. I went to the University of Michigan women's volleyball NCAA games and took pics and put those up, they're getting lots of views. Out of curiosity I was wondering which photo had the most.
And to my surprise (though I shouldn't be surprised) the one with the most views is of the University of Illinois cheerleaders, and it's called "skimpy cheerleaders." They had the shortest uniforms I'd ever seen.

I wonder what kind of views I could get if I called a photo "slutty whore," and tagged it with slut, whore, bitch, skimpy, and naked. I could take a photo of a tree or some leaves or a nice shrubbery and all kinds of people would look at it. Suckers.

In other news, I don't know if you know this but some day I'm gonna marry The Fonz. No, not Henry Winkler, but The Fonz. Someday I'll find him and the moment he sees me he'll be so twitterpitted with love that he'll marry me on the spot. Yep. Me & The Fonz. That's true love, eeeeehhhh!

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Why can't we have nice things?

So, I get home from work today and start making dinner. I go to open the trash bin and inside I see this:


Husband is standing near me and I just give him "a look." I am pretty sure that this is probably what he had on today, and the look I gave him thoroughly expressed my "What the F@*% did you do to your shirt?" question. I liked that shirt. What the hell?

So, he pulls the shirt out and begins to tell the story. We'll he went in the bathroom and realized there was a hole in the elbow.


and so he hulked out and tore it some more.


and that wasn't good enough so he tore it here


and there


and generally just made total destruction


Because that's what he does. So, I laughed my ass off, took pictures, shrugged and went on making dinner.
Poor sad little shirt.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

A quickie before volleyball practice

1. Where's your 2 on your top 8 at the moment?
Oh April? She's probably in my pants. Lemme look. Yep. In my pants. Heh.

2. What is your favorite possession?
I'd say my car - it's a love/hate relationship. Maybe my cat. But do I really "own" my cat?
Or my house? I like my house a lot.

3. Do you own a gun?
I wouldn't say that I personally own a gun but could say there is one in my home. But I don't think you'd call it a gun. Perhaps a rifle instead? Mmm. Yes.

4. Do you have a crush on someone right now?
What am I? Twelve?

5. When was the last time you were at the hospital?
To visit my dad when he had knee surgery.

6. What do you think of hot dogs?
Yum. Cancer. Delicious. Bad. Bad. Yummm.

7.What's your favorite Christmas song?
I can't get into xmas music until December, so it's on. My fave is O Holy Night and Carol of the Bells. Yeah, I know. I'm agnostic. Whatever. Christmas is Pagan based anyway.

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?

9.Can you do a push up?
Yes I can do several.

10. Is your bathroom clean?
Clean. I suppose so. I don't think you want to go eating off the floor or anything, but nobody would scream to walk in there.

11. What's your favorite piece of jewelry?
My wedding ring.

12. Do you take painkillers?
When I need to I will. But not Vicodin. I'm kind of allergic. My face itches and I hallucinate and turn into the exorcist.

13. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?
Hell if I know. Ask them.

14. Do you have A.D.D.? [Attention Deficit Disorder]

15. Your name?
It is not Missy and you damn well better not call me Michelle.

16. Middle Name(s)?

17. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment:
I need some gum.
I have to go soon.
What's that on my shoe?

18. Name 3 things you enjoy doing:
Watching movies, hanging with friends, takin photos.

19. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink:
water, diet coke, tea/coffee

20. Last movie watched?
"The Constant Gardener"

21. All money aside, where would you go and what would you do?
I'm crazy. I want to go to Africa and do a safari. I'd like to drive to Alaska. Yes. Drive all the way to Alaska. I also have this idea to drive south as far as you can. Can you get a car across the Panama Canal? Really? I'd go to Hawaii again and stay a month at the Pink Palace. Hello Sunshine and Pineapple. Any good Indian restaurants in Waikiki?

22. Current worry?
work. life. money. relationships. the usual.

23. Current hate?
the loneliness of my work situation. I so desperately want to go back to the way it was.

24. Favorite place to be?
Beach. Home. Your house.

25. How did you bring in the New Year?
I don't remember.

26. What are your plans for this weekend?
Whirlyball! Happy birthday husband.

27. Did your last ex treat you badly?
Oh my, I barely remember the last guy I dated... hmmm. I guess not.

29. Got something you can't stop thinking about?

30. Favorite color(s)?
Today? Orange

31. Would you be a pirate?
I prefer ninjas.

32. Are you tired?

33. Do you sing in the shower?
Yes. I make up songs and sing to husband.

34. What did you fear was going to get you at night as a child?
I had a paralyzing fear of thunderstorms.

35. Current cravings?

36. Superman, Spiderman, or Batman?
Batman - (seriously, George Clooney... hello!?)

37. Best bed sheets as a child?
I couldn't say that it mattered.

38. Worst injury you've ever had?
Tie between dislocated knee (oh pain of monster severity) and broken arm (yeah when you go into shock it might be bad...)

39. What is your pet's name(s)?
Sebastian and stupid fish

40. Who's the most important person in the world right now?

41. Who is your loudest friend?
Jen is certainly the loudest.

42. Who is your most silent friend?

43. Do you like anyone right now?
I like lots of people

44. Do you wish on shooting stars?

45. What is your favorite book?
The Fifth Sacred thing. It's a strange utopian story, and the most bizarre part is that I found the book in the middle of a dirt road in the middle of nowhere while riding my bike one day.

46. Favorite candy?
Snickers bar

47. What is your favorite song(s) right now?
Don't stop believin' by Journey. Cmon turn it up and sing along!

48. What song do you want played at your funeral?
Breathe Me by Sia. It'll make everyone bawl. You better not bury me though. It's cold in the ground. I'll be pissed.

49. What were you doing @ 12 AM last night?

50. What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up?
Thoughts don't connect into comprehensive ideas when I first awaken. It takes awhile for things to come together.

The Victoria Secret Fashion Show

So, I have interests in lots of odd things. I like stuff other chicks don't. Whatever. About a year ago I was flippin channels and stumbled upon a channel featuring leggy models in underwear.

What Is This?? I was intrigued and mesmerized. Perhaps it's the way they walk. Perhaps it's the perfection of the clothes, is it the music? Whatever. I love the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. And guess what? Get your popcorn and sodas kiddies. It's on tonight!

I just want to hear the foreign man in the back yelling Gisele GO! Emma GO! Heidi GO! GO! GO! And watch the chicks walk. They don't walk like people. They strut. And they've got legs until Tuesday. Makes me want to work out - look hot - and dress like a stripper. Oh yeah! Melissa GO!

It's insane.
But, I mean what's not to love about this?

Saturday, December 1, 2007


So, I went to the mall today. Had some tasks, birthday shopping and I needed to buy a new cassette adapter for my car. Seems this week the moon has been in whatever phase it's in that makes things go hooey. Damon's computer is broken, we have a raccoon living under the house (well, not anymore, it's dead now. Heh heh. Thanks Kritter Getters!) And my cassette adapter that makes my iPod run is somewhere on Michigan Avenue. It seemed to have "accidentally" flown out the window after repeatedly not functioning properly.

So. The mall. It's full of hopeful Christmas shoppers and desperate vendors. And santa. There's this line of pushy parents and unhappy children all waiting to see the creepy man in the red suit and beard. The holiday scene is cute, all trees and gaudy ornaments and happy woodland creatures. There's raccoons and deer and little bears and... two giant giraffes. Really? Giraffes? In the snow? I don't get it. I understand the need for holiday diversity but adding two giraffes to a "north pole" scene isn't going to do it.

I depart santa's wonderland and I go into Macy's to search for gifts and head up the escalator, dodging frantic shoppers on my way. I get upstairs and get a whiff of some nice cologne. Oh yum. I don't know what that is but I'd like to make out with it. I locate the scent and remember where I had smelled it before. Oh yes, the gay club in New York City. The gay men smelled like that. I travel back in time in my head to remember the fun. Yum. So, of course, I consider making husband smell yummy. It's a wonderful smell, and I'm not usually biased one way or another on smells. I can take 'em or leave 'em. But this, this was nice. However, therein lies my dilemma... Do I want my husband to smell gay?