Snuggies, fun for a girl and a boy.

I want a Snuggie.

I have decided that I need a Snuggie for work. My cubicle is constantly hovering at arctic temperatures, I currently have a blanket (I used to have two) and a sweater here at work (totally my ugly, old lady sweater, but it keeps me warm). I leave them here for when I get so cold I am shivering.

Often there are days when my hands are so cold it hurts to bend my fingers and type. I sit almost directly under an air vent so I get blasted with frigid winds on a regular basis. Now I understand that this is a large building and maintaining a constant temp throughout can be difficult, but this is just ridiculous!

And for some reason the bathroom is always the exact opposite of the building as a whole. If the building is cool then the bathroom is a warm little refuge, but if the building is warming up the bathroom suddenly becomes the walk in freezer.

But, back to me, I WANT A SNUGGIE! A blanket with arms…HELLO?! That is exactly what I need for work. I can stay all snug and warm and have my hands free to type. And if my body isn’t busy trying to keep the rest of me warm then it can focus solely on my hands and it will be all good.

ACT I

Me – sitting at my desk, working away, wrapped in my Snuggie
Coworker – does double take, “what are you wearing?”
Me – glances at coworker with utter contempt, “pssh, a Snuggie.” Followed up with an eye roll. “Quit drinking the hater-ade, you know you want one!”
Coworker – stares agog, mouth agape
Me – gives quirk of the eyebrow and resumes diligently working, basking in the warmth of my Snuggie.

END SCENE

Now, I know some of you are probably laughing. Go ahead, laugh away at the Snuggie, but remember, the Snuggie made billions last year. BILLIONS! That is millions, plus a whole lot more. So, while you laugh at the Snuggie, the Snuggie is laughing all the way to the bank.

The Snuggie, probably has its own private jet and is off to some exotic locale for vacation where Snuggies aren’t even needed because the temperature never drops below 80 degrees. While we sit on our couch, because we can’t afford to go on any vacations, wrapped in old blankets, because we don’t want to turn the heat up too high ‘cause then the power bill will go up and seriously, who can afford that. So, laugh away at the Snuggie, but I am pretty sure the Snuggie is getting the last laugh in the end.

And on that note, I must go order me a Snuggie.

Peach out!

Totally Awkward Tuesday and Strip Clubs

I decided to participated in Tova's Totally Awkward Tuesday because, well, I am constantly awkward. Enjoy.

One weekend in college a group of girlfriends and I all decided it would be fun to head to the strip club. In the state of Idaho, if the dancers get completely naked, then alcohol cannot be served and you only had to be 18 to get into the club, SCORE! We were all underage so couldn’t get into the local bars and a road trip sounded like a fabulous idea. The town we lived in was so small that the nearest strip club was located 2 hours north, on the state line between Washington and Idaho, hence the name of the club was “Stateline”. Original, I know.

Driving was Lex and riding shotgun was Hillary. Crammed in the back were Jen, Angie, and yours truly. None of us had been to a strip club before and we giggled the whole way there. It was one of those moments that you just knew you would look back on when remembering college and it would make you smile.

We get to the club, take over some tables and order sodas. We all did our best to be cool and act as if this was something we did all the time; being surrounded by naked women dancing around was an everyday occurrence for us. Pssh, yeah right, I am sure that if it hadn’t been so dark in there you would have seen us all blushing scarlet. But it was a fun adventure and we were having the time of our lives, barely legal and out from under our parents’ thumbs for the first time…we were living!

The club consisted of a main stage and then a satellite stage off to the side. Girls would dance a song or two on the main stage and then make their way over to the satellite stage for dance or two. The “big” money was of course made on the main stage. Some of the pole tricks were fantastic!

The patrons consisted mostly of men, creepy men, a few couples and the ENTIRE Sigma Nu Fraternity from our University. The dancers certainly seemed to enjoy our table of all girls and were at our table at least once a song asking if any of us ladies wanted a lap dance. After several of our faces had been smothered in boobs and several more of us had been groped by the dancers, we became braver. Some of us even ventured up to the stages and gave the girls dancing money, which encouraged more boob smothering and groping by dancers.

Some time passed and I had to pee…all that soda we were drinking, ya know. Lex stated that she did too and Jen decided to tag along (because we all know girls do not go to the bathroom alone). In order to reach the bathroom we had to go down two steps and pass in front of the satellite stage. With Lex in the lead, the three of us headed off to the bathroom.

Lex cleared the steps with no problem, I was right behind her and cleared the first step like a pro, but as I go to step off the second step I feel my boot heel catch, but my momentum is propelling me forward.

OH SWEET JESUS!

I am going down and I am going down hard!

As I begin to fall I catch a glimpse of the stripper who is coming off the satellite stage and is going to walk right in front of me. My first instinct is to latch onto the nearest object and try to break my fall. Except the nearest thing to me is the naked, greased up stripper. Even if I managed to grab her, she would most likely slip right through my grasp; she is so slick from being oiled up. And all I can think to myself is, “DO NOT grab the stripper, you will just take her down with you and that will be even more humiliating. Tripping on the stairs then landing in a tangled mess with a naked stripper crushed beneath you! DON’T DO IT!”

I manage to avoid the stripper and land on all fours in the middle of the floor. I hear Jen behind me gasp in horror then snicker as she tries to not laugh at my very unfortunate mishap. At this point I am hoping the floor will just open up and swallow me whole, but I am just not that lucky.

I lift my head and realize the Sigma Nu boys are all staring at me in utter shock. Apparently they had all decided to watch the dancer on the satellite stage. Fucking awesome.

KILL. ME. NOW.

I hear the snickers from Jen getting louder and realize that I will just have to muster through. Taking a deep breath, I stand up with my face an impossible shade of red, make eye contact with several Sigma Nus and say, “Wooo, that last step is a doozy!” And walk to the bathroom with Jen giggling behind me. Poor Lex missed the whole show because she was in front of me and didn’t realize I had completely biffed it.

Life is like a garage full of crap, you never know what you're gonna get

In November I moved into my boyfriend's house. Before that I was living with my two friends Amber and Beth (they are sisters, but that isn't relevant to the story, it's just a fun fact). And before that I lived with my best friend Jen.

Jen and I lived together for about 7 years, all through college where we met and then once we moved back here we lived together 2 more years. We lived well together, we got along great, it worked out fabulously. Most of what we owned was owned jointly (even our crazy pets) and when the time came for us to go our separate ways, her because she was moving in with her fiance and me because, well, she was moving in with her fiance, we decided who got what based on who needed it, more or less. Brad had a lot of stuff Jen and I had so I ended up with a lot of the household items, dishes, furniture, decorative pieces, washing machine and dryer, etc. We knew Jen was going to move in with Brad but my decision to live with Amber and Beth was a pretty last minute decision.

Our lease was up the first week of May so, that last week we moved Jen to Brad's and me to Amber and Beth's. It was almost like a divorce except we didn't hate the other person and we weren't married, but whatevs. A lot of the stuff I got was not needed at Amber and Beth's because they already had it, dishes, furniture, decorations, washing machine and dryer, blah blah blah. So most of my things stayed packed up and in the garage, except my bedroom furniture and clothes. The garage was huge so it was no big deal to store my stuff there and since we didn't know how long I would be living there, there was no point in getting rid of anything.

Six months rolls by and at this point I am hardly ever at home because I am always over at Mike's house anyway. Living with Amber and Beth was easy, I got along with both of them...of course that could be because I was hardly ever there...and in November their lease was up. They needed to know if I was going to continue to live there and they wanted to change to a month to month lease instead of the six month they had before. I talked things over with Mike and we decided it just made more sense for me to move in with him since I was there all the time anyway and I was basically paying rent so my cats had a place to live and my stuff had a place to stay.

Once again I packed up my bedroom and clothes and move that over to Mike's. At the time, Mike had another friend, Little Jon, living with him as well and Little Jon had his shop out in the garage. There was no room for most of my things and again Mike had most of the items I had stored at Amber and Beth's, dishes, furniture (total boy furniture, blech), washing machine and dryer. I did unpack some items that had been stored at Amber and Beth's: dishes, decorations and furniture like bookcases, you know, for books, side tables, and blankets and towels.

*I am not sure why boys don't ever seem to have decent towels or blankets or shower curtains or bathmats and usually lack any kind of wall decor. It is safe to say, you can now tell Mike lives with a woman, even though there is not an ounce of pink anywhere and no doilies. But there is ALWAYS toilet paper on the roll, clean dishes in the cupboard, and candles that make things smell nice.

Since Little Jon was living there and taking up the garage with his crap, I decided to leave a lot of my boxed up belongs at Amber and Beth's. It was cheaper than renting a storage unit, their garage was huge and most importantly, they didn't care.

The other day I got a message from Amber telling me that Beth is movingback to Reno at the end of the month and she, Amber will be moving into an apartment at the end of the month. And of course this meant that I need to get my stuff out of their garage. Little Jon is no longer living here and he has moved his shop out of Mike's garage. There is more room but there is still a lot of random crap out there.

This weekend Mike and I tackled the garage with the intent of getting rid of a lot of stuff. He had boxes in the garage that he had packed two moves ago. He has moved twice since he originally packed those boxes and hasn't ever opened them, he has also lived in this house for 2.5 years. That should tell you how much he really needs some of the stuff he has out in the garage. There are also boxes full of paper that needs to be sorted into recycling and shredding.

We were out there for several hours and accomplished a lot. We got rid of a whole truckload of useless shit and there is almost enough room now to park two cars in the garage where before you couldn't even get one in there. The box of bathroom stuff had vitamins that expired 12/99. Needless to say this was an OLD box. There is a large pile of stuff that needs to be taken to the dump, once that is cleared out, the garage is basically organized. And next weekend we can move all my stuff from Amber and Beth's garage into Mike's.

Some of the highlights of the day were:
*Snow...seriously, wtf? It hardly snows here during the deepest part of winter and we are in freaking MARCH!
*The box full of bathroom stuff, including lotion that obviously belonged to a girl, thermasilk hair spray and hair bleach (I am not blond and I have never been blond...). There was also an unopened men's shaving cream.
*The Maxim calender from 2005


*And....wait for it, wait for it...a pair of women's panites. AH HA HA HA! They were not my panties, mine are way cuter! Mike was a little embarrassed and quickly tossed them in the trash. But don't worry, I fished them out just for this photo op :)





Yeah, they both got trashed.

Shhh, Mike doesn't know I snapped some photos when he went inside for a break and he knows I blog, but hasn't found it yet ;)

Talk nerdy to me

I don't talk dirty in bed.

It is not because I am a prude and I am appalled by saying naughty things. Trust me, I can turn almost anything someone says into a sexual innuendo. But I don't talk dirty in bed for the same reason I don't like to speak Spanish...even though I am fluent.

I feel like an idiot. When I have to speak Spanish, I always start out fine, but the longer I speak the more I start to second guess myself and wonder if I conjugated the verb right and did I use the informal address when I should have been using the formal, is my accent understandable, etc etc. And the more I think about it the more flustered I get.

And that is why I don't talk dirty in bed. If I do I wonder: was what I just said sexy? did my voice sound breathless enough or commanding enough? did he like that or is he secretly laughing at me? Oh God, he isn't actually going to laugh out loud at me?! I feel like a complete nerd when I use slang for body parts and vagina and penis just sound too clinical. And there is nothing sexy about Er's and Um's while trying to figure out what to say. I get completely flustered and distracted and that is NOT the point of talking dirty.

So, I simply don't do it. The ohhs and ahhs and breathless moans and pleases, will just have to do, unless you want to be hearing about penises and vaginas, while I stumble over phrases like...oh yeah, uh, um, er, spank me big boy?