I have been in the foulest, most craptastic mood ever. I’m not exactly sure why (well, I might have a few ideas) but suffice to say that I am unfit to be around other people.
Heck, I’m even a little scared of myself.
I think it might be because I haven’t been working out at 5AM.
I know it sounds counterintuitive but something about working out first thing, not after the kids get up, not after breakfast, not after I take the dog out … but first, puts me in a better mood for the day.
I need to take that feeling I have when it’s 6:45 and I’m combing my bangs before heading out of the locker room, that righteous feeling of the worst being behind me … I wish I could bottle it for when my eyes pop open at five and I engage in the endless, pointless, “Should I or shouldn’t I,” debate in my warm bed.
Writing always cheers me up and I have lots of pictures from last weekend’s Tet party. That’s the Chinese Lunar New Year, to the uninitiated.
My friend Huong throws a Tet party every year in Denver and they have become the stuff of legend.
This year’s party was almost derailed by SNOWMAGEDDON (which didn’t happen, FYI) but me and a group of intrepid partiers wouldn’t let that stop us.
A party bus was arranged for our safety and fun and I must say that I will insist on a party bus from hereon in.
The bus ride out was okay, 3 out of 5 stars given that the sound system didn’t work. It was a shame because I was prepared to do a sexy dance for everyone since there were poles. I even wore suitable pole clothes under my dress. Bummer.
I was thrilled to see my long lost friend Stacey and her friend Heidi waiting for us at the bar.
We started with drinks and then my worst nightmare was about to come true when the waiter told us that they wouldn’t bring food to the table until we had 10 people.
It was JUST LIKE that anxiety dream I had where I was at a wedding and they called tables up to the buffet in a certain order and SKIPPED MY TABLE and let everyone eat, including the staff, before they realized that I hadn’t eaten but by then ALL THE FOOD WAS GONE!
We tried recruiting people from other tables, we hid the extra chairs behind the curtains hoping they were counting empties rather than people, no luck.
I ran over to Huong’s table and was all, “They won’t let us eat!”
She promptly yelled at the staff in Vietnamese and we were on our way to dinner. It’s not every day you almost live your Worst Nightmare.
Then there was the karaoke.
Stacey, Heidi and I decided to take selfies while being crooned to in Vietnamese. It was beautiful.
I’m not sure who was on stage but I gotta tell you, that guy is the fucking boss. I played with his nipples while Heidi nibbled on his earlobe and he just soldiered on.
Then there was the fashion show. Huong designs and makes custom clothing and a part of the evening was devoted to her latest line.
Unfortunately I don’t have video from the show but I can say without any reservations that I was by far the drunkest model on the catwalk.
There were a few “performance art” pieces that involved mankinis and glitter. Again, sadly, no photos.
Somehow a dildo ended up on the dance floor. And I mean that, I really don’t know how it got there, but sensing a photo opportunity …
I forced Loony to take pictures of me sporting the dildo (to silence my friends who want me to run for City Council) and he complied but was all, “Babe, there is such a thing as a delete button and you should seriously consider using it.”
PFFT! What a killjoy.
After more karaoke, drinking and offensive behavior it was time to get back on the bus and GOOD NEWS the music was fixed.
Now the bus experience was a 5 out of 5. Solid.
Even with music I decided against the sexy dance because frankly, I need room to work and there was no room on the bus.
I busted a few moves using the overhead bars but it was more a display of strength than anything else.
Well, maybe there was one sexy move in there, but I was simply responding to a dance-off challenge where the guy did one thing I then I did it, only better. It involved me exposing my pole shorts (GASP!) but I guess it made an impression because when I got seated the woman across from me noticed the big scab on my knee.
“Is that from your dancing?”
“Oh yes! I am totally a stripper! You can catch me a 10 AM Monday through Thursday at the world’s shittiest strip club where they hire middle aged mothers of two.”
I didn’t actually say that. I told the truth.
“I skinned my knee chasing my cat.”
Timpano is being such an asshole these days.
I think he is losing weight. All that aggressive grooming with TFC is slimming him down despite all-you-can-eat cat food.
He’s also locked in some kind of quest for domination with the dog, meaning that instead of sleeping on my face or anywhere near me, he’s two feet away from the dog at all times. Menacing.
And I think I messed up his fur by grooming him too aggressively. I read that you are supposed to groom long-haired cats every day but I think there is such thing as too much.
His fur is all patchy and weird on his butt.
And he’s been stalking the door, so when you come up to my house this is the first thing you see:
But I don’t think that’s what the lady in the bus wanted to hear.
Meanwhile, TFC has become THE PERFECT CAT, but just to everyone else in the house who is not me.
I might need to get another cat.