I Want My Pretty Pink Cult Robe

I would sell my soul to be in the Polyphonic Spree.  I’m not kidding at all.  They are so freakishly happy and colorful!  A cult with singing, minus the suicide?  Awesome.

So last night was the first night of Fall – well, the first night that felt and smelled like Fall.  You’d think that I’d be sad about it, considering the last 3 Falls consisted entirely of memories with what’s-his-face, but I’m excited.  A lot of people say that they become really happy and energized in the Spring, and I’m sure I’ll say that when Spring comes, too.  But the Fall has always made me feel alive and excited and revived.  Change is in the air, I guess.

You know what else is in the air right now?  The Secretary General of Cool.  That’s right, after dominating Thailand for 6 months, he’s coming home, or back to the States, at least.  Welcome back, Il Duce.  I missed you very much.

Also returning: Pammy!!! Yay!!

Blue Benadryl is now Pink Benadryl.  And I am rocking it right now… which explains why this entry is so lame. *yawn* But it’s been a while since I’ve been this happy, and I just wanted to put it out there, especially for seven special boys I know who are all going through the same break-up crap that I went through.  To those boys – I’m sorry, MEN – them bitches is crazy.  You are all super foxy and hilarious and I love you.

Oh, and one reason for all of us to be happy: A SEQUEL TO CLERKS IS ON THE WAY! SNOOGINS!

She So Crazy

Today is Grandma’s birthday. I know it’s not cool to write about your Grandma on blogs or whatever, but if you’ve met my Grandma, then you know she’s worth it. She is my absolute favorite person in the world. I had a great talk with her on Sunday, cuz I called her for Grandparent’s Day. If you didn’t call your grandparents on Sunday, shame on you… unless you don’t have any or they suck, in which case I’m so sorry and you can totally come out to lunch with me and Grandma anytime.

Grandma recently moved in with her new boyfriend, Jim. They’re like a couple of teenagers… they get in little slappy fights and tease each other and give each other goo-goo eyes and it’s the most adorable thing in the world. She’s lost two husbands, so we’re all really happy that she’s met Jim – even my dad, who is so totally freaked out that his mom is shacking up with her new boyfriend.

Jim, however, was recently diagnosed with a form of leukemia, and he doesn’t have much longer to live. You’d never know that by talking to Grandma, though, or him for that matter. Every time I call her, she’s just a happy little chatterbox. She told me that despite the circumstances, she’s exactally where she’s supposed to be – taking care of him and enjoying being in love for as long as it lasts.

I told her that she’s my hero, and she said, “Well, you know what it is, Stephie? I’m just not afraid of anything.” My Grandma is the most unbelievably amazing person I know. When I look at how she’s handling Jim’s cancer, how she recently handled her own cancer, and how she’s handled everything, I am in awe. And I feel like such a whiny-ass self-absorbed turd for the way I drama-queened my way through my last break-up.

Also: Grandma cracks me up every time I talk to her, but here’s the new favorite Grandma quote: “I know grandmas aren’t supposed to be sexy, but I just am… I can’t help it.” When I get to be her age (37 going on 36) I want to be just like her: a fearless “sexy” tough cookie. Grandma rocks.

Clay, Sunshine and Hoodies in July

For those of you who don’t live in St. Louis, let me explain something to you.  We have the most insane weather on the planet.  Last month, there were huge thunderstorms for about a week, with tornado warnings everyday.  The next week, we had a heat wave, like the kind of heat wave where people die and the rest of us sweat just by standing outside.  The NEXT week, it was seriously about 50 degrees.  And getting to wear hoodies in July? Priceless.

Ever now and then, however, it is absolutely beautiful, and that makes living here worth it.  Lately we’ve been having that kind of weather.  It’s the kind of weather that puts everyone in a great mood.  Everyone is social and happy, and anyone stuck at work gets cabin fever, which always makes work silly and a lot more fun.

Thurdsay was when it started… I wanted to sit and party on my back porch, and so I invited a bunch of people over to take advantage of the weather with me.  I love sitting on my porch with friends, especially new ones and people I haven’t talked to in a while.  Everyone’s secrets seem to come out back there.  I’ve had people come out of the closet on that porch.  That didn’t happen on Thursday, but I learned a lot about my friends anyway.

Friday was even better because I went out and bought clay… I’ve been meaning to start sculpting again for a while now, and I think it was the weather that finally motivated me to do it.  I sat outside in the shade and played with clay and got messy as hell, and I think that’s the happiest I’ve been in a long time.  I also started reading Pastoralia, by George Saunders, which is brilliant and absolutely hilarious.  I highly recommend it.   That night, Jen and Ron had tons of people over, and I could tell that the weather was having the same effect on everyone else, too.  It was another love fest.  I love those guys – especially Conor!!!   It was so good to see you, Conor!!

Every day since then has been just as beautiful, and every night has been some sort of love fest with one group of friends or another.  And I heard it’s going to get cold this week too, so break out your hoodies, St. Lunatics!  If the weather is nice wherever you are, and you’ve had a bad week, call in sick to work.  Buy some clay, make a present for someone, and then read some Pastoralia.  Or at least have some friends over after work to enjoy the weather with you.  Trust me.  It’ll be good for you.  People don’t take advantage of pretty weather as much as they should… even if it’s just by cracking a window or propping open a door.

It’s amazing how much tiny little things can change your day.

Ice & Fuel & Frat Boys

I went up to Ice & Fuel on Monday night.  Ice & Fuel is a bar in downtown Kirkwood, and on Mondays, it’s really cheap.  It can also be kind of a trip to go there, because it’s usually full of people I went to high school with.

That used to be a tradition with my old friends.  Every Monday night I could walk into Ice & Fuel and find three or four tables pushed together, full of people I love.  Some people came every week, and others showed up once or twice a year, but I was always happy to see everyone.  It was kind of like my Cheers, and one of the few things in life I could count on.

There are, of course, other places and people I can count on now, and I’m okay (and a little healthier) with the fact that it rarely happens anymore.  But god, it was really great to do it again.  Despite our long ridiculous history, I really miss having the frat boys here.  All I need now is a game of wiffle ball at Warren’s house and some couch time in Tony’s basement, and my summer will be complete.

And to whoever was at the jukebox (excluding the freak who played Mariah Carey’s “Dreamlover”) – thank you, thank you, thank you!  Stevie Wonder, Al Green, AND pre-Thriller Michael Jackson?! Wow.  You made my night.

Boobylicious

I recently ran into an old friend who told me that she’s going to get implants in the next year. I asked her what size and when she told me I almost passed out. Girlfriend wants massive, massive boobies. Did I mention that this is an old friend from church? I tried to be unbiased and to not try to sway her in any way, but for many years, I had to carry around boobs that were just as big as what she wants. And mine were real, which means hers will look a lot bigger – and scarier.

The best thing that has happened to me in the past year is that my boobs shrank. They’re not tiny now or anything, but they’re normal, and that’s all that matters. For a while, my cup had runneth waaaay over. I feel an obligation to tell her the downside of ginormous boobs, because there is a downside. There are a lot of downsides. So, Friend Who Wants Boobs, here we go:

Top Ten Reasons Why Less is More

10. Gravity – Yeah, I know: Ew. Luckily, this isn’t a problem. But I work with old ladies, and apparently, it will be a problem. For everybody. So I just thought I’d throw it out there. Note to old ladies: You guys gross me out sometimes. Next week I’ll give you the top ten reasons why Silence is Golden.

9. Bras – You know those cutesy bras with the flowers and rainbows and all that shit? Yeah, kiss those goodbye. They won’t work for you anymore. You’ll go from Victoria’s Secret to Olga, which is an actual brand name. Olga = not cute. Two words: under wire. Have you ever been felt up by an international airport security guard? It’s nothing to be jealous about, believe me.

8. P.E. Class – Oh my god. Three words: Ow, ow, and ow. I still have nightmares about this.

7. Rumors – In middle school, there was a fantastic rumor floating around that I stuffed my bra. Looking back, it’s hilarious, because think about all the Kleenax that would have required. Middle school girls are stupid. In high school, the first time I lost a bunch of weight, I didn’t lose any boobs. There was an implant rumor floating around after that. And guess what? Your implants? They’ll be totally obvious, which leads me to reason #6…

6. Staring – To everyone who stares (and this includes girls – straight girls too, for some reason): who the fuck raised you? Did anyone ever tell you that this is not polite? Well, I’m telling you right now, it’s impolite and it’s fucking creepy, so cut it out. Guess what, Implant Girl, this will happen to you everywhere.

5. Shirts (or lack thereof) – There are tons of cute little girly shirts on the market right now. They are not made for girls with boobs. In fact, most shirts are not made for girls with boobs. You will be left with two options: look like you’re pregnant, or look like a stripper. That’s it. Have fun.

4. Myths – Girls sometimes want boobs because they think it will get them noticed. Yeah, you’ll get attention. But guess what? It won’t be fun attention, and it most certainly won’t be from someone you like. Do you honestly want a guy who wants you for your boobs? Don’t forget about that myth that girls with boobs are hussies. Also, to my friends: stop sending me up to the bar to get you your beer. The bartender will not serve me any faster because of my boobs. Did any of you notice that I’m 5′ 2? I have to stand on my tippie-toes for bartenders to even notice my face.

3. Mardi Gras – Supposedly, St. Louis has the second biggest Mardi Gras celebration in the country. I’ve never been. My nightmares about P.E. class are nothing compared to the nightmares of what would happen if I had shown up in an environment full of drunk boys determined to see boobs. Who the hell thought of that, anyway? Why is this legal? There is no string of beads pretty enough to make me do that shit.

2. Quatro-boob and Uni-boob – I don’t think I need to explain this, but I will anyway. Sometimes bras get too small. Boobs do not understand this. They need breathing room, and will pop out of the top of your bra in order to get it. This creates the magical illusion that you have four boobs. Sports bras, which are often seen as the solution to many boob-related problems, create the opposite effect. They smush boobs together, creating one giant uber-sexy uni-boob.

1. “Value Pac” – This is the name of an old punk band that used to tour with MxPx. They had these orange t-shirts that were super cute, and I bought one. I didn’t realize at the time the repercussions of having “Value Pac” written across my boobs. My group of friends in high school consisted almost entirely of boys, so you can imagine what they said about the shirt (I think my boobs were the unofficial mascot of that group of friends). The t-shirt met a tragic fate a few years ago when my friend Shawn borrowed it and drank a bottle of tequila. The nickname, however? Lives on.

So for any of you out there considering massive implants, or for those of you who get sad about your flattness, don’t. Just be happy with yourself and what you have. The grass is always greener, and in case you haven’t realized this, us boobylicious girls get jealous of you sometimes, too.

Also: if anyone ever calls me “Value Pac” again, I will kick you in the nuts. Have you ever heard the myth about boobs containing magical Kung-Fu powers? It is so totally true. Just ask Tony.