You Know You Love Me.

Not me. But it's okay if you do. Although a little odd.

We are talking about Gossip Girl today. Because I love that goddamned show.

I remember seeing the promos years back when I was a much more cynical gal, slowly easing out of my emo-elitist early twenties. In my later twenties I learned not to be such a hater of such shows and embraced all that GG had to offer. Which is over-the-top melodrama, opulence, and faaaaaaashion.

The acting? Well, obviously. This is a CW show after all. But for a moment let us praise Leighton Meester for giving us one of the best television characters of all time. During this season's Debutante Ball episode she looked absolutely exquisite. She has inspired me to try, and fail miserably, at the art of bold red lipgloss. She is also a classic mean girl, albeit fabulous. Another Blair Waldorf quality my nearly 30-year old self strives to emulate. Truth, I'm usually just a bitch. And so help me if her and Chuck don't end up together, someone will be receiving a strongly worded letter. Email. Probably. I just turned 15.

I think it's also important to highlight the less-than-stellar acting skills of Blake Lively. BECAUSE SHE CAN'T HAVE EVERYTHING. But I would still kill for her hair.

I also live for the recaps. My favorite comes from New York Magazine and a close second comes from The Fug Girls. And on the topic of recaps, NYMAG has some killer Real Housewife ones that I miss reading. I love recaps. I have a life, I swear.

I'm usually behind an episode or two (so stop talking about it for shit's sake) because my bestie and I HAVE to watch it together or else we will die. Because it allows us to do what we do best — sit on our ass, drink wine, and talk shit about people we don't know. And we only have a handful of episodes left and then we will have nothing to do again. Ever.

xoxo.

Vegas lies.

What happens in Vegas does NOT stay in Vegas because we all love a good shitshow. Am I right? With our Vegas trip on the horizon, I thought I would share some of my most favorite Vegas shitshow moments with you.

• The time a very awful, awful girl asked me if I forgot to put clothes on and then I cried and then almost got arrested at a liquor store for having a fake ID when in fact it was my real ID and the lady at the counter said, "Psht, not with THAT nose." Worst trip of my life.
• The time I went with a bunch of girls for work and it was just dramatic and oh dear god I'm having PTSD.

• The time I made my BFF fly out from Colorado to meet me on a trip I had planned for a boyfriend that I broke up with before said trip occurred. And the first night we found a bar where women drink FO FREE so I drank for free all the beer I could fit in my tummy and then some. And then because the strip was ridiculously dead we had a really weird photo shoot. We got lost in City Center, more than once. We saw a drag show. We molestered wax people.

• The time my little sister and I went to see Mumford & Sons and stayed at the Hooter's Hotel & Casino because we are classy like that and also she wasn't 21 yet. And we walked the strip to watch Robyn on the big screen of The Cosmopolitan and made friends with homeless rockabillies. And went to the PBR bar and ate the largest sampler platter known to man after Brooke got challenged by a much old man to an arm wrestling contest. And after eating all that fried food we rode a mechanical bull and her boobs almost fell out. Also, we saw Mumford & Sons are our hearts are still full of memories of that special night.
  
  

Okay, so mayyyyybe my trips are a little mild. Tell me your Vegas shitshow stories. You know you want to. What happens in blogland stays in blogland.

The FACE.

I can't even tell you how many times I've heard the following phrases:

"Smile!" or something seemingly more clever to the person making the statement.

"Do you feel okay?" or some variation of that.

"Having a bad day?" which I would never answer yes to anyways so why are you asking STRANGER DANGER! 

To the above questions and many more, here is my perpetual answer:

"It's literally just my face."

Sometimes I try to get all lady gaga clever with statements of being born this way and how hard it is to live a life looking perpetually pissed off. But you know what? It isn't. If anything it's entertaining as hell because it always keeps people guessing. And also encourages them to mind their own business. It does, however, get me marked as "snotty" and yes "bitchy," which is only true sometimes. I just like to think that I have so much going on in this genius brain of mine that I don't have time to worry about having a phony smile pasted on my face at all times.

Source: blog.krisatomic.com via Tiffany on Pinterest 

Quite possibly my favorite example of THE FACE in action can be seen in the photos below. Because seriously, how could we not be happy in that moment? We were paying attention, thank you very much.

Intense listening faces.

I smile on command very well, as do my friends.

Right? So remember, next time you encounter someone that may not look pleased, they are happy on the inside. Or their dog died. Either way, it's probably best that you don't even ask and just move on with your day.

A wedding and a near funeral.

This weekend was the first of the 5 weddings I have to attend in the next 9 weeks. You may have heard me mention that one or 16 times here. The couple, Bryan & Michelle, started out as friends of my sisters and then at some point we all decided to adopt them because they are wonderful and hilarious. Bryan also happens to be one of my favorite drinking buddies. Our favorite game is called, "see how much beer you can drink in one night." So needless to say, we knew it was going to be fun and dear god it got wild.

This is going to call for a lot of photos because #1 I don't get dressed up much and #2 I don't remember that much.

Oldest sister Jennifer, me, niece Samantha, and little sister Brooke
looking all ladylike early in the night.

Big sisser Jennifer.

This little studly nephew of mine
wearing the bowtie he requested.

He loves when I take 14,000 pictures of him. Little shit. 

Twin sisser Brittany was a bridesmaid. This is one of 2 new
dance moves I learned that night, The Bernie. The other is the burning tree.
I don't know what that means.

Me, Jennifer, cousin Jamie (alter ego Damie), and the twins.

And this is where is gets weird. That man in the photo above is my father. To say that my dad loves the groom is an understatement. He is the son he never had. They drink, swear, and watch sports and hbo porn together. It's such a lovely relationship. So dad, in rare form, busted out his famous wedding dance performance to "Shout" by the Isley Brothers. He has been doing this for as long as I can remember and not a wedding slips by without it happening. It is one of the few reasons that I would actually want to have a real wedding with a reception. Because as I told anyone that would listen, I'm not having one of these. 

This led to the "near funeral" because as you may be able to tell, my dad isn't exactly what you would call "in shape." But it was well worth the near heart attack. A true gift from Gary Golota.

I've been calling them "The Floreses" for years...it's finally official!

Some super hot messes at the end of the night.

As you can probably tell, it was an open bar and we totally destroyed it. In order to bond with my cousin's husband that I'm not that close with, he decided it would be a good idea to take shots. And more shots. And a few more with the groom for good measure. Bonding, complete. Someone thought it would be a great idea to attend Applebee's on the way home. My sister slept in the car. I was too drunk to order. It was a typical family dinner now that I think about it.

It was a lovely, lovely wedding and I'm honored to have celebrated with a couple that we all love so dearly!

Linking up with Join the Gossip, Sami's Shenanigans, & five30three for Weekend Update!

A monthly game.

Ladies. Allow me to talk about feminine bits for a minute here. Is there nothing worse than having to go to the store just to buy tampons? I know I'm not alone in this. Because when you realize you are in need, you have 4 choices. You can go to the corner liquor store. OR NOT. Why would you ever do that? They sell a 3 pack that is marked up 75% and it smells in there. Please don't do that. You can go to a drug store like CVS or Walgreens. But again, the markup is ridiculous and the only people that actually go to these places are senior citizens and they only go there for the free blood pressure machine. You can go to the grocery store, but who wants to buy feminine hygiene products from the same place you buy items that will go in your mouth? Or you can go to Target. Which I mean, come on. Do you really want to pay $120 for tampons? You know you will.

So when I forget to buy these very important products during one of my big Target stock-ups every other month, I then later find myself in the above situation and completely panicked. I choose to not go with ANY of those choices. I choose to scavenge.

That's right. Think about it. How many places do you keep tampons? I always find some that have fallen out of the box floating around the bathroom cupboard. Then there is the few in the bathroom drawer. Oh, and my purse! And then my backup purses. And probably my weekend travel bag. My car. My desk. Your desk. Just kidding.

Then I get all weird about it and make it a challenge. I will find EVERY PLACE that I have stashed tampons to challenge myself not to go to the store. This morning I found some in the bathroom drawer and totally cheered for myself. Yessssssss. It sure as shit looks like I won't be walking to the liquor store this week for tampons. Nope. Just for beer. I totally won this month.