Tuesday, November 25, 2014

How To Vegas Like a Bro

Luxor Pool in Las Vegas, clouds, trees
Ominous clouds at the Luxor pool. Obvious literal foreshadowing.
 "So my bro is over there all stupid mad about how we've only been here for a couple hours and I've already charged up his credit card. Dude, chill. There are lots of ladies lovin' the drinks and I'm an entertainer and you can't contain this, bro. You should be glad I've got these hotties ready to come back to our room for ten seconds of awesome. Serious, bro. Chill.

"Thursday in Las Vegas is epic. What happens here stays here so I don't gotta worry about anyone seeing any of this shit go down and talking about it. Especially not gossipy celebrity bitches tanning by the pool. My bros and me are ready to party ALL FUCKIN' WEEKEND. Everyone by the Luxor pool knows by now because I won't stop shouting about it.

"Anyway, my main bro that booked our room is FREAKING OUT that I've already run him up bad buying rounds for anyone that smiles at me or laughs at one of my dumb ass jokes. Oh shit... here he comes... he's talking on his phone (who does that?) to another bro who's coming down from our room for some reason... fuck... gotta go... back to the pool bar...

"This beer in an aluminum bottle is cold until it's in the sun and then it's fuckin' hot... hey girl you want one too? Just a sec, I'm busy memorizing your ass. Can I hide behind you and your friends... shit... they're still coming...

"'Hey BRO, what do you think you're doing?' My main bro shouts at me and it makes me very scared so I run away very fast. My other bro is running at me from the other side. I'm so drunk, confused and guilty I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO, BRO!!! Wait, I could hide in this pool. So, I jump, headfirst, into the pool.

"OOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW Why didn't anyone tell me the pool was only 3 feet deep, bro?! My head feels really funny. I bet it's cuz I'm getting a hangover. I'd better drink this beer I just found at the edge of the pool. Something feels extra wet on my head, too.

"'Ohmigod, are you okay?' asks one of the hotties in a hot pink bikini. 'You should get some help.' 'I'm cool,' I tell her all suave-like only barely drooling on myself. 'I've got a beer it's all good.'

"'Um, I don't think you should be in the pool any more,' says another girl, who's staring at my head for some reason. Whatever. I slam the rest of the beer and climb out of the pool. I see my bros talking to security and uh oh time to go. Only way out of this is back in the pool. So I jump back in and hide underwater for as long as I can. Hey, where the fuck is everybody going? All the choice babes in the pool, and the dudes, and the bros, and the kids, and their parents, are all moving away from me.

"I have to come up for beer and I do and wipe off my eyes and some of the water on my face is red. Someone spill a daiquiri on me or something? Now the lifeguards are shouting something, and dudes in yellow are shouting something... just leave me alone; it's time to party ALL FUCKIN' WEEKEND! I climb out of the pool to go back to the bar and someone grabs me. 'Sir, we need you to step away from the pool. You require medical attention,' he says or some stupid shit like that. F you, dude.

"Next thing I know, I'm trying to go back to the bar and THEY WON'T LET ME GO. 'Let me go, bro,' I wail like a drunk baby. They zip tie my hands behind my back so they can look at my head and clean off the daiquiri. OOOOOWWWWWW No, shut up. I don't need stitches you can't stop this party machine BROOOOOOOOOOWWWWWCCCHHHH. There's blood on my basketball jersey and I don't have a beer in my hand my life fuckin' suuuuuuccckks.

"They finally let me loose after forever and all these people fixed my head I guess so I decide to start heading for the bar again. Cut off? Whatever bro. 'You need to go back to your room for a good sleep,' says someone I'm not really listening to. They try to escort me out of the pool area but instead I make a break for it. Oh shit, they caught me. WAAAHHHHH I'm being thrown out of the resort now WAAAAAHHHH!

"If I had still been in the pool area I may have heard my bro talking to security about my removal from premises, the fact no one can get a hold of me because I had my phone in my pocket when I jumped in the pool, and no one knows what to do now ALL FUCKIN' WEEKEND since this is Thursday and we were supposed to party until Monday. I might have heard my second bro telling my main bro that he hates me but would die to give me a kidney, man. I could have seen everyone, including the hotties shaking their heads as they were retelling my epic tale to each other. Most of all, I perhaps would have seen a gossipy super famous Portland bitch that witnessed the entire thing reviewing her photos of the situation that she took over her shoulder while we weren't paying attention. But, maybe not. I wasn't there. Who knows?"

Bros: The Movie. Starring Main Bro in Red, Secondary Bro in Hat, Luxor Security, and Drunk Head Wound Bro half hidden behind Main Bro. Guest starring VIP Cat Lady herself, JKesgard. Not coming soon anywhere or anytime, thankfully.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Slummin' It... Free MAX Day

Train in downtown Portland Pioneer Courthouse Square
What a train in Portland may look like.
Fuzzy legs, Don Johnson stubble, Andy Rooney eyebrows and shorts decorated with Secret Aardvark splatter art: my costume for an incognito trip on the rails in Portland. Unfortunately, I was still recognized so I was allowed to board MAX without even having to pay on Monday, August 18. Being famous has its perks, so you have to take the good with the bad, I suppose. Getting free stuff is just a part of fame to which I've had to adjust.

I hadn't been on the train since April. It took me a long time to get over the trauma of witnessing the strange passenger next to me vomit all over himself. I honestly never thought I would recover but lately I've been working on pushing past my fears to attain high-reaching goals. As of late, I've been longing to return to simpler times, to experience again for even one brief moment what my life was like before my sudden rise to fame. Back when I was attending Portland State, I rode MAX every single day, spending my time on board doing homework, reading, attempting to breathe solely through my mouth, listening to my Discman, and only occasionally being robbed.

Surprisingly, nothing much has changed on the train itself, except this time I was not approached by a man wearing tiny 1970s gym shorts with his male parts falling out of one of the legs. Not even once! There are things you're not sure you're going to miss but shucks... I'm getting kinda misty.

The best selfie. Ever.
I boarded at my regular stop near my home and nothing eventful really happened until we reached 11th Avenue/Lloyd Center. A lady boarded and sat in the seat next to me, her overwhelming perfume enveloping her and anyone around her in a cloud not unlike that of Pigpen. I forgot to use any of my own fancy smell juice before I left the house so I was quite fortunate she was there to share hers with me. She kept trying to read what I was writing on my notepad as I was sitting next to her so I'm confused as to why she moved seats two stops later. I would think she would be flattered by my generous depiction.

The meth people got on at Old Town and sat 1/2 the car apart so they could just hear each other as they shouted. I could slightly hear them as well. They got off at 3rd and Morrison with all the fellows with their shirts tucked in yet unbuttoned all the way to their waists.

I exited the train at Pioneer Place so I could start a walk around town, taking photographs for blog posts in the future. I ended up at Pioneer Courthouse Square, Galleria, the theaters on Broadway, the Park Blocks and Waterfront Park. After this exhausting adventure I boarded MAX at Skidmore Fountain to go home. Apparently, so did the entire population of Multnomah County. It was packed. I couldn't find a seat so I made a woman take her baby out of the stroller so I could lounge. It was a perfect vantage point for the most epic throwdown I have ever witnessed on public transit.

The scene: two people taking up four seats in the priority seating area; the other two seats contained their bags. Of those two, one was a gender transitioning person with really cool hair. This person was the one involved in the ruckus. The other participant in the bout of the century was a lady in a wheelchair directly across the car from the other two. The train was filled to the point people were going to start squishing out the windows like in a telephone booth challenge. The dialog was as follows as best as I can remember, slightly paraphrased:

Lady in Wheelchair (LW): Hey, can you let some people sit in those seats where you have your bags?
Cool Hair Person (CHP): No.
LW: Well, there's a lot of...
CHP: My bag is heavy. (Clearly annoyed) If you would like to hold my bag, you go ahead.
LW: Well, I just think you could hold your bags and let some of these people sit.
CHP: No, actually I can't move my bag because if I let someone sit next to me, it's going to aggravate my anxiety disorder and give me a panic attack. (Aggressive voice) Do you want to give me a panic attack?
LW: On such a crowded train you...
CHP: (Interrupting, loud shouting) YOU'RE CONFRONTING ME. YOU'RE CONFRONTING ME. YOU'RE GOING TO GIVE ME A PANIC ATTACK. DO I NEED TO CALL THE POLICE!!?!?!
LW shakes her head and looks away as everyone on the train rolls their eyes.

Personally, as someone that has experienced a great number of panic attacks over the last decade, I had no idea that having someone sit next to you could cause one, while the fact the rest of the train is fully packed, with people standing right next to you, blocking the exits and bumping against your legs, wouldn't. I guess my social anxiety was different. But, I'm so happy to know now that the next time I want to excuse the rude behavior of myself and my friend, all I need to do is cite my anxiety issues and it gives me a free pass. As if I needed any more reasons to be special. It was a wonderful day of learning on the Portland mass transit. I was so blessed.

Friday, August 15, 2014

Springtime In Portlandia, Part Two

This entry is a continuation of the exciting mystery serial begun in Springtime In Portlandia, Part One. If today's entry doesn't make any sense to you, it's probably because you didn't read the first part. Duh. 

 Picture 4:

Don't tell anyone I was up in here.
We know how to party up in the VIP. WHAT?!? Okay.
One of the aspects of this city I truly adore is the fact the populus leaves celebrities alone. Anywhere else it's all about autographs, pictures, locks of hair and partially-eaten toast. But here in Portland, a famous person can be virtually ignored. This was my experience at the Spring Beer and Wine Fest on April 18. In my recollection, I was never once approached, allowing me to finally enjoy an event in the style of the common folk.

I can only assume my handler made all of the arrangements because the VIP section left much to be desired. I'm used to far more posh accommodations when making public appearances. The drink, however, was first rate. There were so many varietals of wine, and not many of them repugnant. I prefer the sweeter types; the rieslings, moscatos and ports were not to be missed. I especially liked the Passion and Muscat from Noble Estate, the Fortissimo and Vibrato from Vitis Ridge, the Sublime from Silver Falls Vineyards, and the unique fruit wine varietals from Nehalem Bay Winery. Yes, the regular bubbly flowed as well and I know what you're thinking. No, this was not what placed me into a multi-month stupor as I still had a couple more picture clues on my phone after this one.

Picture 5:

This is how famous people slum it.
To continue my enjoyment of Portland like the regular people do, I apparently decided to try some water from a public dispenser downtown on May 22. I'm not used to imbibing this beverage when it's not pouring forth from a plastic bottle I conveniently leave anywhere because climate change is a lie, so ingesting this from a commoners' spout was very traumatic for me. Don't laugh. I'm new at all of this.

After a few seconds of sipping, I started to relax somewhat because it tasted a lot like Coors Light. After having my fill, the trauma returned as I started to feel nausea overcome my usual overwhelming sense of ego. Is this how you people always feel after drinking this swill? OMG. This is it. This is what happened that made me so sick! Immediately after I drank the water, in addition to nausea, I developed a sharp pain in my abdomen, followed by extreme dizziness, a bubonic rash, hemorrhagic fever and hiccups. Also, this happened:

Photo 6:

Pile of deceased color treated hair
It ate too much poisoned quadro-triticale.
MY HAIR FELL OFF. THE WHOLE PONYTAIL!

The water. There must have been something wrong. I'm certain of it. It's almost as if someone put a dead body in the reservoir and when it was drained the body was found but everyone in charge said it was a bunch of dead birds instead. I'm never drinking water again. I could take that as a positive but I'd rather find someone to sue. We should have been warned about this.

It's fortunate I regained my health just in time to venture back to Vegas for another adventure in liver destruction but that's a story for another day. Soon.

Monday, August 4, 2014

Springtime In Portlandia, Part One

Oh, how you've missed me, dear fans. Unfortunately for you, I've spent the last several months in an induced coma to reduce a swelled ego. Either that or it was an awesome new weight loss scheme I was researching as part of my gaining even more dieting expertise. Anyway, no matter the reason, I woke up having lost a lot more weight, so I win! The difficult part of this situation is that right before this wonderful mishap, I was out and about so much here in Portland and planning on sharing all of the details with my devotees. My memory is terribly spotty so I'm going to have to do the best I can to fill in the gaps and still do my adventures justice, while also solving the mystery of my missing time. Luckily, I found numerous pictures on my phone to help me reconstruct a narrative.

Picture 1: 

VMB main ballroom
Is this HELL?!?

This first photo is scary, but doesn't appear to contain anything coma-inducing. There are some spooky people in top hats, some hot chicks with fangs, and up on the stage we can see some lovely shadow dancers. Hmm. I'm going to need a little more help to narrow this event down.

Picture 2:

JK in white ready for a bite
My butt has a spotlight on it.
I got married again or something, but my hair is all lumpy. No, hey, I think I know what this is. If we look at the two pictures together, I'm sure I went as a sacrifice to a satanic party. Clearly. Hmm. I didn't think I'd really do that. Again.

Upon checking the date stamp, 4/12/14, I figured this was the Vampire's Masquerade Ball. I went in white because not only am I completely contrarian, but I was hoping to draw the attention of numerous terrifying bloodsuckers. Do you know how much blood weighs? You could lose a dress size or ten just based upon how hungry the undead are.

The event was as beautiful as usual but I still went home just as untouched as I have each of the other five times I've been to the ball. Maybe someday I'll finally be savagely attacked. I can only keep on hoping. I mean, even the lovely organizer of the evening complimented me on my gown instead of goring me with her ram's horns. I can't win.

Picture 3:

People spinning in the air on massive rings
I bet I could do that too if I was in really good shape, ate right, practiced a lot and was in tune with my body. Big deal.
This was one of the acts at the VMB, Night Flight Aerial. In addition to their spinning all over the sky acting all beautiful and cool and making me feel bad about myself, they don't throw up while they're up there or anything. There were other acts, like DJs that play a lot of dark stompy music and people with instruments that I know are mocking me because I gave up practicing the piano years ago, but they didn't spoil my mood. There were plenty of mirrors to look in constantly so I could keep my priorities in focus. As usual, I stayed all night and had a wonderful time even though I wasn't completely exsanguinated, but there's always next year so I can try again.

There are other pictures on my phone after this so this was definitely not what drove me comatose. I'll have to keep on looking in order to solve the mystery. Part Two of this investigation will be posted next week.

PS: Adult vampires are NOT the same thing as Vampire Babies. Not even close. Really.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

I'm an Expert Dieter Now... and You Can Be One, Too!

Notice I didn't say "diet expert". No, I'm an expert dieter. As in, I've finally learned all of the tricks that will keep me dieting for the rest of my life. Everywhere you look online, you can find people like me and they are so sort-of helpful. They are women who've been trying to lose weight for at least a decade or ten and this is kind of AWESOME.

I mean, here I was following a plan to the letter and dropping the fat poundage like cray cray (70 lbs!) when I suddenly realized a terrible truth: what happens to all my new friends when I finish losing the weight? Oops, sorry, *loosing* the weight. There, that's better. Anyway, who will I be able to whine to about my constant hunger? Who will absolve me of my binging sins? Who will suggest ridiculous uses for Laughing Cow wedges? I finally figured out that the point of online dieting forums was not to actually help anyone loose the weight but to have camaraderie forever surrounding an enduring abject failure to attain a healthy mental, emotional and physical state. Mmm... this Vitatop smothered in a melted tbsp of chocolate chips and SF strawberry preserves is YUMM-O!

As I have now unlocked Level: Expert, I feel compelled to share diet tips with you all of the time, whether you ask me or not. Please post a list of everything you eat during each meal, like I will, and I will tell you if it's okay (something I would eat), or totally not on plan (something actually probably on plan but I don't like that you loose more weight than me so I will suggest you sub some 40 calorie super preservative-laden 70 year shelf life bread for the whole grain high fiber non-GMO loaf you've been eating). BTW, I'm eating a FF yogurt sweetened with aspartame right now that will totally give me a migraine, preventing me from working out and instead giving me a cool sob story to share on the boards later.

Just for you, my dear fans, I've put together some examples of the most useful tips I've learned online. This is so that when you join a forum, board or Facebook group, you'll be more than ready to spout the latest, greatest gobbledy-gook like the rest of us. You'll be dieting like an expert, too if you follow these key points:
  1. Vitatops are ambrosia from the Gods. Eat them at every opportunity. It's required. Also, grab yourself some sandwich or bagel thins, spread with a Laughing Cow wedge or FF cream cheese, add a gratuitous tomato slice and you've got lunch (along with some FF yogurt that makes you poop a lot or a 400% sugar protein shake with lots of chemical names you can't understand).
  2. Have you heard about Dole Banana or Strawberry Frozen Dippers? Yum! They're an excellent choice for a 100 cal snack that won't fill you up but you're going to eat them anyway because you're not mentally or emotionally ready to lose weight. You're not really looking at food as fuel yet but as a complete crutch to save you from your sad, tedious existence so you'd better eat the whole box to be safe. Make sure to suggest them to everyone else at every opportunity on every forum you frequent so they can join you in your misery.
  3. Manipulate the entire system to bend to how you want to cheat yourself. If the plan says to eat 1 c of whole wheat pasta, sub spaghetti squash. Yum! If it says 1 small personal cheese pizza, make a cauliflower crust and top it with double the cheese and add some turkey pepperoni. Yum! If it says 1 tsp olive oil, use FF spray. If it says avocado, don't eat anything at all. The point I'm trying to make here is, you have do nonsensical substitutions so that you will either not loose any weight from eating too many add-ons and you can blame the plan, or My Fitness Pal alerts you that you're not eating enough calories and you can blame the plan for giving you a slow metabolism. Either way, you win!
  4. That whole container of Costco cookies isn't going to eat itself.
  5. Work out way more than you're supposed to so you injure yourself and you won't be able to exercise any more. Don't let that stop you from encouraging others to do the same.
  6. End every meal/snack suggestion with the following: YUM! Also, you spell "lose" as "loose" now.
  7. Dr. Oz likes to talk about poop a lot. Now, so do you.
  8. Post frequent pictures of: your food, your body, your old body, your children, the wedding you went to last week, the clothes you're going to buy next week, the FF popcorn on sale at the store, the PB2 you bought because now even natural peanut butter is evil for some reason, and every other damn thing you'd like to share whenever it crosses your mind because you actually think we all give a fuck.
  9. Have a monthly fundraising cupcake bake sale at your place of employment so that you can look like you're loosing weight by getting everyone else fat. 
  10. Whatever you do, don't ever, EVER eat any real food. It's your duty now to eat as many boxed, canned or frozen diet foods as possible to keep the industry afloat. They're banking on you becoming expert dieters and buying their products for the rest of your life.
Make absolutely certain that if you do go on a plan that encourages healing your emotional self, working with physical or medical limitations, eating healthy yet tasty foods that you cook for yourself, and exercising in realistic moderation, that you still take over the related official groups and bombard everyone with all of the processed foods, cheats, and lingo you've learned from being an expert dieter at the 20 other plans you've been on your whole life. Thank you for sharing your delightful hints, wisdom and sabotage. I've learned so much from you, the real experts. It's to ladies like you that I owe this entire post.