Repo Men/Monster Trucks

Soooooo … one of my friends, who shall remain nameless, is planning a high school reunion.  As part of the planning, she got in touch with her ex-bf from hs.  Who is now a repo man.  And, better yet, sent her pics of him and his kids at the big Monster Truck Jam they attended in Vegas.  Including a photograph of one of the “monster trucks.”  Too awesome.  I wish I could include the photos because they’re pretty all-time but I’m really not allowed to do so.  (Btw, “all-time” is another of my favorite expressions.  I haven’t used it much lately but I’m going to start using it again.  “All-time” is like rad but way better.  Like the “raddest.”  For example, “One Tree Hill is a rad show but Gossip Girl is all-time.”  You should try it.)  Anyway, I think my friend is totally bummed that she passed that goodness up.  And who wouldn’t be, really?  On a side note, I can’t, for the life of me, understand what a Monster Truck Rally/Jam is.  Has anyone ever gone to one?  WTF takes place?  I’ve seen them advertised, obviously, but it just looks like a bunch of trucks driving over piles of dirt?  Is that what it is?  Is that fun?  Do they sell booze at these things?  Ecstasy? 

On another side note, my mother and father once tried to attend a Barry Manilow concert in Phoenix.  They somehow went to the wrong venue and found themselves at a Monster Truck Rally.  My mother was all confused about it.  She somehow believed that Barry was going to jump out of one of the trucks and sing.  If you have ever met my mother “Barbie”, you will understand how funny the image of her attending a Monster Truck Jam really is. 

Where is My Mind?

No … I’m not referring to the classic Pixies tune, although that is a good one.  I really mean “where the fuck is my mind today?”  Cannot focus on anything.  In fact, I was going to write something in the next sentence and I just forgot what I wanted to say.  Ya like that?  (That is also an Earl reference for those of you who know Earl … if you don’t know Earl … I feel bad for you.  Earl is our God and we worship him as such.)

So … what’s up today?  Another Bears player was arrested … of course, it’s Cedric Benson.  Assmunch.  Third arrest in like 5 years.  “Boating while intoxicated.”  Ridic.  The last time he was arrested, he kicked down the door of an apartment because he thought his plasma t.v. was inside.  Can’t take it.  You know, if you’re a professional athlete especially a NFL player, that cops are going to be all over you.  You have to behave in public.  That’s what I tell my boys.  I can only imagine that Benson’s agent is thrilled to death right now to deal with this bullshit.  My dad actually has a great story … back in the day, one of his clients was arrested for robbing a bank.  Seriously.  In Tulsa.  The branch where his account was located.  And he used a bicycle as his escape vehicle.  Not a made up story. 

In case you’re wondering, the Starvation Diet is wonderful.  My clothes are already a little looser.  That’s the great thing about being “5′2″ and not weighing so so much to begin … you can totally feel every pound come off.  Of course, you can also feel/see every pound that comes on so … it balances.

Talked to cutie Rob last night.  *Sigh*  He’s just so sweet.  You can’t not like the guy.  And I don’t think he’s “too” nice.  Like, I think he has a backbone.  I def need a guy with a backbone.  I enjoy pushing my boundaries in relationships.  Need someone to keep me in check once in a while.  Not in a dicky way … just a strong way.  I’m just a “wee” bit strong-willed and I will steamroll your ass in a relationship if you let me.  Anyway, Robby Rob wanted to come up tonight and buy me dinner.  After I explained that I am no longer consuming food and we had a small debate over whether or not my ass is currently the size of Texas (R thinks “no”; it def is the size of, at least, say Oklahoma), I told him that Monday is no good because that’s my t.v. night.  Gossip Girl, How I Met Your Mother, One Tree Hill, the Hills.  Just way too much goodness.  R couldn’t believe I was blowing him off to watch t.v.  As I told him “it’s not the first time I’ve blown someone off to watch t.v. nor will it be the last time.”  I have no idea of why he likes such a Bratty McBratterson as myself.  Masochistic, maybe.  Anyway, I think we’re hanging on Wednesday.  Should be a good time.

Tea at the Ritz/Trevor/Griffith Park/Stripper Poles

Just wanted to grab your attention …

Debs a/k/a Pookie, Julie a/k/a Mama Music and I all had tea at the Ritz-Carlton in Pasadena, which is apparently no longer the Ritz-Carlton, as of a month ago.  (Btw, as you’ve probably already guessed, all of my friends have nicknames.  If we’re friends and I have no nickname for you, you’re probably not as good of friends with me as you think.)  Since I’m now on the “Lisa Starvation Diet” which no one thinks is a good idea except for me, the teensy-tiny tea sandwiches were perfect for me.  And my Wild Blackberry Tea.  Yummy McYummerson.  No booze since the scandalous events of Thursday night.  Which are never to be repeated.  Except by KC who brings up said events everytime I speak to him.  But then, KC enjoys provoking me, which is only fair since I provoke him without reason at nearly every opportunity.  So, I guess I will live with it.

Since I was with Pookie today, it reminded me of an old story that I find funny.  You may or may not find it funny.  Remember … you get what you pay for.  So, Pookie, Mama Music and I all used to work together at a firm downtown, which shall remain nameless.  One morning, I’m standing in line at the friendly downtown Starbucks (one of the 5 million friendly downtown Starbucks), impatiently awaiting my turn for the liquid pleasure that is Starbucks.  I see this guy a couple of people in front of me.  I only see him in profile but I get this sudden gut feeling that this guy is my husband.  Totally bizarre, right?  I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach.  So, while contemplating this bizarre turn of events and ordering my latte, I look up and notice that this guy is staring at me in exactly the same manner (I imagine) that I was staring at him a moment ago.  Now, this guy is def cute but he’s not like drop-dead gorgeous.  Colin Farrell was  not standing in line with me or anything.  Just this totally weird reaction.  This guy strikes up a conversation with me while we’re waiting for our beverages.  I believe he began nervously telling me about how much he liked Starbucks and how he even owns stock in Starbucks, etc., etc.  It was cute … not insane like 99% of the men who approach me.  I learn he’s from Seattle and his name is Trevor.  That’s it.  He leaves, I get my beverage and see him sitting outside at a table.  Which is unusual since it’s like January and pretty freaking cold at 9 a.m.  Now, what I should have done is gone up to  him and said something since I believe he may have been waiting outside for me.  Instead, I totally walk in the opposite direction back to work and never see him again.  I’m convinced that immediately after meeting me, Trevor was hit by a semi while crossing the street.  Because that’s just the way my luck goes.  I thought of the story because after I met Trevor, I ran back to the office and told Pook that I was convinced I just met the love of my life.  So, “Trevor” is an ongoing joke since I never saw him again.  I will probably see Trevor again at my gym one day.  He will ask me out and then be completely insane. 

After tea, I should have done some work.  Instead, I caught up on “One Tree Hill” and read 2 back issues of the Oprah Magazine (which is really rad, by the way.  When I was in the hospital last year and desperate for anything to read, a friend brought me a copy and I’ve been hooked ever since.  Way cooler than you would think).  My platonic bf and I hit Griffith Park to play with his new camera.  I have actually never been to the Observatory before today, oddly enough.  I think the only time I have seen the Observatory at all is in “Rebel Without a Cause.”  KC argued with me on the drive there that “many movies have been filmed there” and thus, RWAC was not that special.  And once we arrived, what did we see?  That’s right … a statue of James Dean avec a plaque decreeing that RWAC put the Observatory on the map, so to speak.  As I said to KC upon the plaque sighting … “hey … I know shit.”  The Observatory is way cool.  A very zen vibe.  If it wasn’t so crowded, it would be the perfect place to hang and just chill.  Contemplate life.  I also did a cartwheel on the grass outside.  In my rad rad rad pink flip-flops that have a big pink and black polka-dot bow right in the middle.  That’s correct … it is possible for one person to be this cool.  Not likely, but possible.  Like once in a lifetime.  Supernova.  That’s me.

On the way home, we were discussing stripper poles.  I’m not sure why … I have a lot of random thoughts.  Anyway, stripper poles are very fun.  I would totally dance on one fully clothed if someone would pay me for that.  I believe that the conclusion of the group (me and KC) was that no one would pay me and thus, it does not seem like a good career choice at this juncture.  At least, KC seemed less than enthusiastic about the plan.  Perhaps he was a lot more excited about the idea than he let on and was just hiding his enthusiasm?  Seems unlikely.