contrast
August 15, 2010
The man (the one I fuck, not the one I damn) and I made the most of the two different worlds we live in this weekend. At 25 and 28, we still like to stay up late and wake up with regrets, bruises and a tangible drinker’s remorse. As parents we endure enjoy a number of domestic duties as well. (I do consider drunken shenanigans a duty, ps. Where else would I get the fodder?)
Friday night we hit the freeway with two friends for a unique type of double date. The kind where the goal is to create real friendships out of forced and mandatory ones… because you used to screw one half of the other date. It was very fun and not forced at all. There was good food and much, much laughter at the Laugh Factory in Long Beach. Every sixty or so days, I give away my O Negative and sometimes the Red Cross gives me free VIP tickets to a comedy show for it.
Do check out Darren Carter. I just downloaded his album, That Ginger’s Crazy, on iTunes.
You know when you ascend the levels of drunk from ‘buzzed’ to ‘code red’ to ‘oh fuck’? By the time we hit a dueling piano bar after the show, Washington Apple in hand, I realized I’d gone overboard. But in alcohol there’s no Ctrl+Z so I threw it back anyway.
Saturday was a strange day for a hangover. We had 1st, 2nd and 3rd birthdays to attend. We stocked up on Pillow Pets (best toy EVAR) and hit the road:
The first and third birthdays were for the adorable daughters of boyfriend’s (okay, his name is Josh) friend, Charlie. We wore festive leis and all was merry.
The 2nd birthday party was for my girl Kristine’s little lady. The day she was born I had one hand on Kristine’s left foot as she pushed and pushed and total tunnel vision. Birth is beautiful… but not pretty. It’s incredible to see the little blonde cutiepants running around and high fiving and baby talking at two years old now. All full circle and shit.
This morning we were up early so Josh could make an appointment at a sensory deprivation… place. While he floated and went to mental places that scare the absolute shit outta me, Kiddo and I played in the sand and bought more handmade jewelry than we’ll ever need.
I could personally boost the ecomony in Venice with contribution to the crafts on the boardwalk. I am such a sucker. Although I was not having all seventy-seven street musicians pushing their headphones at my face, all CHECK OUT MAH SHIT AND GIMMIE MONEY!*
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Heh. I can see that.”
“Seriously, dude? No.”
*I respect the art and straight-to-the-people marketing. It’s the pushiness.
We made it home and realized we were completely fucking wiped out. I plan to spend the rest of this Sunday in a sedentary state, at some point moving to shovel Josh’s awesome jumbalaya in my mouth.
That is so not a euphemism.
-CJ
VICTORY!!!
August 4, 2010
THE GAYS CAN MARRY!
THE GAYS CAN MARRY!
A federal judge in San Francisco decided today that gays and lesbians have a constitutional right to marry, striking down Proposition 8, the voter approved ballot measure that banned same-sex unions. U.S. District Chief Judge Vaughn R. Walker said Proposition 8, passed by voters in November 2008, violated the federal constitutional rights of gays and lesbians to marry the partners of their choice.
This is fucking incredible news! I can’t stop smiling! I can’t even be witty or sarcastic! Someone come hug me!
-CJ
and yet another conversation
August 4, 2010
“You said you were only having one cocktail tonight. What happened?”
“You weren’t here to supervise me?”
“You’re an infant.”
all in the family
August 4, 2010
“Why do I have to come home from work and clean this ooooh god I sound like my mother.”
“You sound like MY mother.”
“…”
“You actually kinda sound like my dad.”
“FUCK THAT HE’S A REPUBLICAN.”
*headwall*
August 4, 2010
“What do you suggest we do to make you listen better?”
“…no.”
my San Francisco treat
August 2, 2010
My co-worker and her family took on San Francisco last week. In Chinatown, she met this little man and declared that I must have him:
I love him so hard.
His tag says ‘use method: to dangle.’ And so he shall.
-CJ
the hairiest new members of 2B
August 2, 2010
When I got back from Vegas, newly acquired boyfriend* tugged my sleeve incessantly until I followed him into the bedroom, where my dresser was pulled away from the wall. I gave him quizzical eyebrows and he told me to manuever my way behind the dresser and look underneath. While I enjoy surprises, I didn’t like where this was going. I had little desire to see what could only be two years of dust and dog hair. He convinced me to take a peek.
Under the dresser was a firepoint white Persian (or Himalayan, I have no idea) cat. He was terrified.
After a moment of OMGWTF?! boyfriend opened the closet with what could only be described as a shit-eating-grin. There, tucked back behind the hanging clothes, on top of a shelf was a gray and white Persian. Or Himalayan.
(The tweakish firepoint is Mo. The grumpy old man is Furby. We intended to change their given names but what the hell, they work.)
I leave for one weekend and the boy seeks out his dream pet via Craigslist and ends up bribed into taking two-for-one, since the younger boy would be lonely without the older boy (his father).
I’d slap the motherfucker if I wasn’t COMPLETELY smitten:
How could I refuse these smashy, angry faces fluffin’ around like they own the place?
-CJ
*Officially official.
435680145mph
July 30, 2010
I sincerely hope this week comes crashing to a halt this weekend. I’m not happy when I operate at the speed of light. I want some down time that isn’t just the twenty minutes before bed.
I have a tattoo appointment tonight and there’s three birthdays that need celebrating on Saturday. Venice welcomes my company on Sunday with an assorted cast of friends and family.
I’m charging on…
in studly new shoes!
Holy hell, my two Captcha words to upload my shoes were gastric & leaches. SICK, tinypic.com. Sick.
-CJ
round two
July 22, 2010
Yet again, I did Vegas. This time with slightly more style and a lot more hangover.
The Paris was lovely and all, if that’s your thing. I felt like a hack, though I fit in there much more than at the Palazzo (so super fancy – the fountains are worth more than my life) where I had the opportunity to see Jersey Boys. I had no idea I would LOVE this show or be as familiar with the Four Seasons’ music. The show followed a night of drinking so heavily that the sun was well up (and baking the city to a crisp 115°) by the time I found sleep. I paid for such an event, surely. And it made a 1 a.m. bedtime in a chilly hotel that Saturday such a decadent event.
I love how damn dark you can get a hotel room. You can sleep until 1pm and THAT, my friends, is a vacation.
-CJ
a tiny corner of my room
July 19, 2010
He knew my blood pressure was on the rise when he told me he’d moved everything off my dresser and turned it upside down to find our newest family member, Mo.* He sent me this to show how shiny and dusted it was when he put it all back in place. I’m so completely aroused and not because his shirtless torso is reflected on the television.
-CJ
*There’s more pets. I’ll show you soon.
