Remember all that 'look at me I'm so healthy working out all the time' stuff I spouted awhile back?

Well.

To the amazement of everyone (or just me, really) I'M STILL DOING IT. Like, a lot, even. Cause apparently deep down I'm this really tough (ha) toned (hahahahaha) machine that runs off rage and adrenaline and hot gym eye candy. And beer.

Lots and lots of beer.

Hence the concept of the Beer Mile™.

Let me back up. The iPhone, a magical and wonderful thing which can do much good and even some great, is also a bit like Satan before he turned all evil and by that I mean my my phone is sometimes the devil.

There's this app, Lose It, which computes and tracks calories. It is free, and it is awesome, particularly in regards to answering questions like 'curly fries or chicken tenders, which is less worse?' As I'm not one to get too hung up on numbers or restricting (curly fries and chicken tenders, people) it's been pretty rad.

Pretty rad, that is, until I attempted to log a night's drinks and HOLY FUCKING COW turns out everyone ever was right when they said that stuff was full of crap. (Perhaps the term 'beer belly' should have been my first clue?)

I think y'all know me well enough by now to know that I am not going to let some little piece of shit handheld device (ItakeitbackiPhoneIloveyouOHGODdon'tleaveme) ruin or otherwise change a night out, so I still go out (plenty), and I still continue to drink (plenty). But I do attempt to account for the odd glass of wine with dinner or beer while watching the Dodgers.

And here's where Beer Mile™ comes in; it is the extra (!!!) mile I run which effectively cancels out whatever drink I plan on having later that day. I understand this may come off as a tad obsessive and/or super lame, but I really just hope it serves to demonstrate my extreme love for beer.

Ex-fucking-treme, people.

With this context, the following should be hilarious. To me. And maybe one other person (Buffy McFlex, or BMcF):

BMcF: Home. And full of raw hippie food.

Me: Ima kick your damn motherfucking ass at Lose It today, bitch. Just thought you should know!

BMcF: Probably. Cause I had a bunch of apples and pbutter last night.

Me: Yes but that was last night. Sigh. Dammit.

BMcF: LOL but it was after midnight so it went on todays...

Me:Fuck yeah, technicality! (Which I have argued against before but I am heretofore switching sides.)

BMcF: Hahahahhaha. Whatever it takes for Hoey* to win!

Me: Eating good and working out? Fuck that shit, I'll cheat!

BMcF: LOL. I don't know how you'd ever win with all those beer miles hehehe

Me: I'm training for a 10k so I can have a 6-pack. No joke.

BMcF: Ohhhhh of beer. Not a tummy six pack. A funny you made. I got it now :)

Me: Oh shit I didn't even think of the tummy 6-pack.That statement says so much about me it's embarrassing.

It does, and it is.

*Hoey = not at all assholish nickname for Joey. SO CLEVER AND FUNNY, that guy.

Perhaps I should have asked the question (and oh, I don't know, waited for an answer?) before making a joke?

Hm.

I know not of this 'restraint' thing you speak of.

I feel ridiculously accomplished for having cleared out all (five) of my email inboxes yesterday, and for also finally logging into facebook after weeks and weeks and week of not doing it because I had forgotten the password (and because I don't really care for that site, much).

Turns out it still blows.

As you may have already deduced, there's not a whole lot to report. Saw a great, great show by Black Joe Lewis & Lucero. The night was only partially marred by Stacy's phone getting snatched, and my subsequent (and totally stupid) chase after the guy. I didn't get it back, but I did manage to run 5 blocks and hop one fence (in a denim mini skirt, gimmie points). Oh, and make my friend worry that I might be dead. I managed to do that, too. See how much fun I am to be around, people?

Later that week I spent quality time at the beach, with another friend, and our pups, and got yet another tattoo since I'm on a mission to get disowned and permanently place myself in a lower earned income bracket.

I mentioned all of these things on twitter (shout-out to my followers! Don't you love getting the same information twice? Holla!) which leads me to believe my life does not generate enough content for the plethora of social networking sites to which I belong.

Am probably spot-fucking-on with that one.

Oh, hey, wait! I thought of something I didn't twitter/myspace/facebook/plinky about! I got accidentally totally really super drunk on Tuesday (ok, yes, I did twitter that, but not what it led to ->) and hit on a gay guy who CAN YOU BELIEVE IT totally shot me down.

So, that was fun.

Anyways, sorry for the lack/duplication of content, I don't know what's up with me this week. Things are swell, it's just that I've fallen into a bit of a pattern of partyin' like a motherfucker > getting very little sleep > going to work > hating life because I'm so so so so tired which is a really lame thing to complain about but I don't let that stop me > going home and passing out for 12 hours straight > feeling fine and well rested the next day which without fucking fail leads me to believe it's time to get the party started...again.

It's a vicious, vicious (and only slightly awesome) cycle which is not really conducive to creativity. Or putting letters together to make words to make sentences.

AS YOU CAN SURELY TELL.

Cheers.

Sweet little things that happened within the past few hours:

• Woke up early (and on my own; so much better than the BUZZ BUZZ I'M IN YOUR BRAIN KILLING YOUR CELLS BUZZ BUZZ of the alarm). I love not having to rush in the mornings, but as a night person it's a rare occasion that I don't sleep in until the last possible second and have to hurry out the door.

• Got pretty much the best 'good morning' texts in the history of its kind:
  

  (Doesn't ring a bell? Please, allow me.)

• Listened to the Dodgers game in bed for a bit. Can't praise the MLB iPhone app enough.
• Had enough time to run downstairs to grab yummy tea goodness.
• Ran into super nice cute man downstairs who proceeded to buy my yummy tea goodness. Yes, this did make it taste better.
• Rocked out The Kills and Peaches (going to see her next month!) while getting ready for work.
• Headed off to work for the last time until Monday.
• Confirmed some weekend plans with friends which may or may not leave me standing come said Monday. (They involve skateboarding. And beers. AND ME. Enough said.)
• On the way to work/at work, kept up with the Dodgers game as they barely beat out the Phillies, almost but not quite making up for letting (former Dodgers player!) Werth steal THREE bases in ONE inning in an earlier game. Which, I can't lie, was pretty damn amusing.

Yes, sometimes it really is the 'little things' that make all the difference. Even (and especially) in light of the BIG HUGE things which kinda suck.

Like the fact that I miss my brother. Even more, I miss how my family used to be. (I'm aware that this makes me sound like a selfish asshole. Nothing new there, though.)

I remain constantly thrown by how very different and damaged my family is now. It's been over two years. It's not getting any better.

I really thought it would.

But I'm still grateful for the little things.

Since I'm a bit of an asshole with majorly fucked up priorities (surprise!), I often tend to empathize more with animals than humans. Shut up. You know you do it, too. (Like when a horse gets shot in a movie. Why'd they have do that?! Poor little horsie! Why not shoot the lead actor? It's not like anyone cares about him, right? Or when news coverage of natural disasters starts talking about abandoned pets OMG start the motherfucking waterworks, amIright? What? I'm starting to lose you? I started awhile ago? Hmph. Anyways...)

Last year I posted a few comics by Coco Wang that highlighted a few of the tragedies which resulted from China's earthquake in May. Some were outright heartbreaking, though the strips about the Wolong panda reserve are a bit more lighthearted:

Earlier last week I stumbled upon these photos of the rehabbed pandas. One of the captions stated that "to help the pandas recover from trauma caused by the disaster, keepers gave psychological support in the form of games and hugs".

You all know how very much I love my job at the library, but I think it goes without saying that I would start LIGHTING BOOKS ON FIRE if it meant I could take up that gig.

(Really though, I'd only burn the Shopaholic series. No big loss there.)

Through an odd coincidence (we were enrolled in different programs at different universities) both my mother and I earned degrees last year. Not ones to let an occasion go uncelebrated, we (ok totally and completely 100% she) planned a trip to Paris and Rome.

Yes, we DO know how to fucking party.

Here's us outside the Louvre:

And another, one of my favorite pictures from that trip, just outside the Vatican, in Rome:

Prior to this photo, I had been walking ALL DAY EVERY DAY and (sometime in the afternoon after a glass or two of wine on the roof of the Castel Sant'Angelo) I stubbed my toe so hard it felt like it had been dipped in kerosene and then LIT ON FIRE and there was nothing to do but keel over and begin bawling. Making American tourists look good, that's me!

This is something my dad and I would generally openly mock and laugh at (since I wasn't really hurt, just tipsy and clumsy). My mother is generally more the type to rush over with a first aid kit and hugs.

However, I guess traveling with me for over a week had toughened her up a bit (read: made her want to hit me but that was only for a minute and to her credit she somehow restrained) and I couldn't have been more proud or her than when she whipped out her camera to document my obvious (and totally babyish) pain. I am not even kidding, my heart swelled.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom! Love you!

• Was totally horribly feverishly sick. Decided to hasten my impending death by going to Home Depot, a totally hellish hothouse on even a normal day.

  
  Add in the weekend crowds.

  And crazy heat/humidity.

  And hi, lines.

  Still alive after that ordeal, though barely, I decided to then climb on high ladders and inhale paint fumes. Pretty much the best sick person ever? I SO am. And now my bedroom is finally finished being painted. Only 5 months after I started, wheeee!






• Went to a BBQ where absolutely no food was served. Uh, oops? There was plenty of beer, though. And a piñata! And I got to beat the shit outta it!

  
  Baseball bats + aggression = candy and mini vodka bottles? YES please!

• Got tattooed...again. (See what I do now that I actually have free time and $?) I'm way swollen here:



...or just super duper buff. I mean, considering all of the healthy (fever, accidental paint huffing, not eating but definitely drinking) living I've been doing lately, it could totally be that.

Totally.