Is it normal to dream that a preganant Hispanic girl has told you to fuck off, and you say No you fuck off! and then wake up with both of your hands wringing the “neck” of your pillow while simultaneously slamming it into your bed? What’s worse, my first thought upon waking up was: Yeah, I totally won that fight! I beat her fuckin ass.
Thank god I stopped going to therapy. I really wouldn’t have wanted to go into that one.
Categories: Uncategorized
Tagged: Is it normal?
Two of my favorite people, Stayhay and Jorsey*, are moving to Canada next week. I’m not going to try and express how I feel about them here, since I already did that with another friend in a rap song which we performed to the delight of a restaurant full of patrons. I really just wanted to thank them both for letting me be their third wheel at more than one dance party. And guys, I hope you know: this ain’t our last rodeo. I’m coming to the country of winter toques and Moosehead to visit you as soon as you get settled in– cold weather be damned.
If anyone would like to take over the job of driving me to McDonald’s or Taco Cabana when I am intoxicated, please send me an email.
*Not their actual names.
Categories: Uncategorized
I am constantly getting myself roped in to ridiculous challenges or make bets (Like the time I drunkenly bet some guy at a party $500 that the kid in Parenthood was absolutely NOT Joaquin Phoenix. Yeah, I fucking lost that one.) that I curse myself for later:
1. Bike ride a century. (Mental note: buy a bike first)
2. The $30 a week challenge.
3. Do 100 push ups in one sitting.
4. Eat only whole or real foods for one month.
5. Walk a marathon. We roughly estimate that this will take about 10 hours..
6. Swim one lap faster than my best friend who is 3 inches taller than me and used to be a state champ when we were in high school.
7. Don’t make bets or accept challenges while under the influence.
Categories: Uncategorized
Tagged: Challenges/bets
Some people like to go to church on Sundays. I prefer JeJu Korean Sauna for my religious experience.
As one friend put it, JeJu is where she hopes to end up when she dies. It has everything you could ever want: a sauna, massage rooms, a restaurant, Olympic size swimming pool, gym, smoking room– because who doesn’t want to smoke after they finish up their run on the treadmill? I sure as hell do.
For anyone not familiar with the procedure at JeJu, I made a list since your first visit can be a little intimidating. If you are not interested in having the most relaxing experience of your life- stop reading.
1. Walk in and pay a $25.00 entrance fee. This gets you a uniform to wear in the communal areas, a toothbrush, and an arm bracelet that has a key and a digital chip thingy.
2. If you are a woman, walk to the left. If you are a man, walk to the right. Enter the door and put your shoes in the locker that corresponds with the number on your bracelet.
3. Go the locker area and get naked. Completely naked. If you don’t, Korean women will scream at you “GET NAKED LADY!”
4. Go to the shower area and take a shower. There is a sign by the shower that says “Save water. Shower with a friend.” Your preference. Personally, I like to fly solo.
5. Choose from three pools to get in. The one on the left is extremely cold. The middle one is hot. The one on the right is very hot. There is also a steam room and sauna. My favorite thing to do is get in the steam room, put a cold towel over my face, and pretend that I have died and gone to heaven.
6. In this area, you will also see a body exfoliating/massage area. I like to get the body scrub (It costs $40.00 which they charge to your digital chip). Your skin feels awesome afterwards, it does not hurt at all, and they wash your hair for you at the end of it. My only warning is that they do get unbelievably close to your hoo-ha and they just straight up scrub your ta-tas. I am very ticklish, so I just cover my face with a towel so they can’t see me laughing.
7. Once you are done with this area, put your uniform on and go out the door to the communal area. In this area, you can get a traditional massage. Just look for the doors that say massage on them. I have been told by several people that this is the best massage they have ever gotten. I concur. You can always tell who has gotten one because they come out looking like a zombie with their hair sticking straight up.
8. At this point, you can decide to eat (you also pay for the food with your bracelet), or enter one of the 7 or 8 hut-like rooms of varying heat and healing properties. There are signs posted everywhere to help you choose between the rooms.
9. Whenever you are done, go back to the locker area, put your clothes on, grab your shoes, exit and pay.
The greatest thing about JeJu? It’s open 24 hours a day! Ta-ta and hoo-ha scrubbing 24 hours a day! There really is a god.
ps. As usual, J had some comments he wanted to add from the male perspective: If you come really late at night its waaaay better in my opinion but be ready for a throng of Asians sleeping everywhere. Get a massage in the co-ed part unless you want a guy to hose you down.
Categories: Uncategorized
Tagged: Amateur review
Men who have hit on me in the past six months:
1. The mentally handicapped man who sat down at my table at the bar and told me that he was a bag boy at Kroger and lived right around the corner, and “Where do you live?” While staring at me with the same level of intensity that I sometimes stare at pictures of food on the internet.
2. The drunkard at another bar who decided to pop by my table because “Ah’ve bin admirin’ u for about an hour now and whaaat’s your name?” He was missing his two front teeth.
3. The drug addict in downtown Nashville who had a very funny idea of personal space, got about 1 inch from my face and asked ” Do you like country muuzaack?” “Where’d u get those red sunglasses? You look just like that artist. You know. The one that died.” To which I responded, “Yeah, I think you mean Aaron Neville.”
4. The fourty-something year-old at a party I attended. The one my brother specifically pointed out and whispered to me not to talk to because he looked like a pedophile. The one who asked the hostess of the party for my number the next day.
5. The homeless man who said “hey sexy, I love you” as I got off the Marta train downtown. Hey, I love you too.
6. The Afghani man on St. Patrick’s Day who repeatedly told me he loved me, “I like really love you. No, I mean it. I want you to know I love you. I don’t normally tell women this the first time I meet them. But, I love you.” The same man who told my best friend that he was infatuated with me, but that he also had an uncontrollable urge to call me a bitch. Welcome to the club.
And, just so you don’t think that this is a random occurrence of the last 6 months: The mentally handicapped boy at the bowling alley when I was eight years-old who asked me if I wanted to see something. To which I replied, “yes.” To which he took his dick out of his pants and shook it at me. Thanks, for getting the balls rolling.
Categories: Uncategorized
My dad, my brother, and I went on a three-day kayaking trip down the Suwanee River in Florida last weekend. I think the man at the kayak rental place has a loose interpretation of the word “kayak” since I was given what was clearly a canoe or at the very least, a canuyak. Still, I decided to make the best of it and enjoy my constant struggle to keep with up with J and Dad for 35 miles.
Ten minutes into launching our boats, we saw an alligator. J saw it first and yelled “ALLIGATOR!!!!” at the top of his lungs, which caused our four-legged friend to fling itself into the water right in our direction. Holy shiznit, I have never paddled so hard in my life. For the rest of the trip everything my paddle touched under water was an alligator waiting to roll me over and have his way with me. As J and Dad pontificated about how the alligator has been on our great earth for millions of years , I kept asking myself: How strong is the mandibular jaw of an alligator? What do alligators eat? What would Bear Grylls do if he was attacked by one? I made a mental note to look up the answers to these very important questions as soon as I got back to Atlanta.
Speaking of eating, what didn’t I eat over our three day trip? For one, I ate half a can of Cashews. I hate Cashews, but that is what happens when you paddle non-stop for 6 hours and you start to hallucinate that it is very possible for your arms to actually dislodge themselves from their sockets and fall into the water: you can’t stop eating. My dad was put in charge of provisions. HUGE mistake. Have you ever eaten a Freeze Dried Meal? Have you ever eaten Freeze Dried Chicken Curry? Oh yeah, nothing I like better when I sit around the campfire than hot Indian curry. J and I are still not sure how dad managed to pick out the curry from a selection of meals that include such heavenly delights as lasagna and macaroni and cheese. Luckily I had secretly stashed two dark Snickers bars to get me through the tough times.
My favorite part of the trip occurred the first day when J was pulled over for doing 25 in a 15 in a state park. The state trooper gave him a lecture about speeding and failed to realize that there was a flask in between the driver’s and passenger’s seat, a gun in one of our camping bags, and an opened bottle of the most disgusting vodka ever purchased in the driver’s side compartment. And as a true testament to the trooper’s mental agility, he gave my brother a printed warning and made the warning out to a man named Donald who lives in Florida. The trooper had been given all of my brother’s information. Had supposedly looked him up on his computer doo-hickey. My brother’s name is not even remotely close to “Donald.”
But I sure liked calling him that for the rest of the trip.
Despite the fact that I had the slowest water vessel ever constructed, I had a great time on the trip. I loved spending time with my brother and my dad. Two men I know will always stand in the way of me becoming some hungry alligator’s lunch.
Categories: Uncategorized
Tagged: Donald, Trips
My brother and I took our mom to Red and Green Brazilian Steakhouse on Buford Highway last night for her birthday. Red and Green is a typical Brazilian churrasquería, a la Fogo de Chão, but for about half the price. I really recommend celebrating a birthday here, at least once. The service is phenomenal and if it’s your birthday you get a free bottle of house red wine and a cake. Not just a slice of cake, the ENTIRE cake. While I don’t think the quality of the salad bar or the meat is of the same standard as Fogo, you definitely get your money’s worth– especially when mom and I are eating. My stomach did not become a bottomless pit on its own, my friends. A combination of genetics and learned behavior did this to me.
My favorite qoute of the evening came as we somehow got on the topic of what happens if a child dies before his or her parents, and mom said, “If something happens to either one of you two, the one that is still alive take a gun and shoot me.”
Now, that’s a Latin mom for you! What would a good dinner be without the drama of the possibility that one of us could die at any moment. I’m pretty sure that mine is inevitable after all of the meat I consumed last night.
Categories: Uncategorized
Tagged: Amateur review, Buford Hwy, Food
This hot love tip came from a very typical conversation with my mom, where I was engrossed in a marathon session of The Girls Next Door, and she called to tell me she had just finished watching a Spanish television program about astrology and I just had to follow the advice for Libras. When she got to the part about sticking the paper in the plants, I almost choked on my dark chocolate pretzel.
1. Make a list of 21 qualities that you want in a partner.
2. Cut these qualities into 21 strips of paper.
3. Stick the pieces of paper in your plants and wait for Mr. Right to appear.
And you all wonder how I came to be this way? I don’t think that my mother has noticed that all of my plants are dead. I couldn’t even keep an Aloe vera plant alive long enough to use its healing properties. But she did hit upon a weakness of mine: I love making lists! So maybe I’ll make the list and post it here, or maybe I’ll burn the strips of paper and ask the Lost Pagan God Dragobete to please send my mother a boyfriend so I can lie comfortably uninterrupted on my couch with a bucket of popcorn resting on my belly for many more years to come.
Categories: Uncategorized
Is it normal to be craving a roasted suckling pig and glass of cider beer that I had in Madrid 8 years ago? Probably not, but I am so hungry at the moment I am contemplating buying an airline ticket.
I actually found the website for the restaurant just in case you’re ever hungry in Madrid. It’s called Casa Botin.
Categories: Uncategorized
Tagged: Food, Is it normal?
