I don't care what you say anymore this is my life...

i may have previously mentioned that my kraut is in town. she was pretty much my best friend in lafayette. she's very awesome and i wouldn't trade her for the world (not even for a signed picture of the gypsy). i was supposed to hang out with her tonight with some of her other friends that also came for this conference. we had planned to go bowling. i got showered and dressed and everything. prepared to go out. another one of my friends came to pick me up (best to carpool and all). but first i had to stop by the jew's office to give her some cookies (seriously).

so i go in and give the jew her cookies, and as we're apt to do, we talked for probably longer than was socially acceptable in terms of making the other friend sit in the car.
that probably turned into a definitely seeing as when i arrived to get back to the car the car was no longer there. neither was the friend. she had left me.

hrmph.

by this point the kraut had already text messaged me to tell me she was beyond drunk and that they were heading to another bar. the other friend finally texted me to say she in fact did leave me (really? hadn't noticed), but was willing to come get me again anyway.

after much debate i declined. sitting in the jew's office i made a very important decision that may or may not affect my relationship with the kraut (or any of my other friends that i had prior to dc). the person they wanted to join them for an impromptu bar crawl isn't the person that i am anymore. i don't know when i changed. why. how. no clue. but i have. maybe change isn't the right word. i've grown. not necessarily up, but in many facets that's the case. i just can't be who they want me to be. or, rather, who they expect me to be.

so, what kind of person am i? what has my life become? what did i give up hanging out with that crowd for?

sitting in the jew's office for 1.5 hours and then going grocery shopping.

yep. that's the person i've become. the person that goes to the grocery store at 11pm. gets excited that cereal is buy one get one free (fruit loops for me, corn pops for the jew) that doritos are buy one get one free (that's a me/ruskie thing). and comes home.

and i'm okay with that. i truly am. granted most days, with these people, i feel slightly ridiculous but mostly all right. and i never wish i was ,or it was, something else.

This is a good life. and it's not that I'm giving up my old life. my old friends. but that i'm taking what's laid out before me. and what i have now? well, you don't look a gift horse in the mouth.

Everything will come right if you only believe in The Gypsy*

the jew doesn't believe the gypsy (the real one) is real. she even said so:

me: the gypsy just walked by
me: with a suit case
me: i feared she'd see the door was open.
me: and come in.
jew: i'm not convinced there's actually a gypsy
me: hrmph on you for that one

so now it is my sole and utter purpose in life to get a picture of this gypsy. she's walked by twice in the last week and both times i haven't been quick enough to get the camera and get her.

in the vein of people that stalk the loch ness monster, and those that believe in big foot, so shall i believe in The Gypsy. and i will get this picture. by god, i will.

*title from The InkSpots' "Gypsy"

well this is new...

the scene: a typical night at the house. nothing special going on. all of a sudden the jew starts laughing.

"what?"
"tucker just jumped off the couch to play with the dog on tv."
"what?!"
"the commercial. he jumped off the couch for the dog on tv."
"really?"
"yep."

at which point she rewinds the commercial and sure enough he does it again. and then we rewind it again. and again, he does it. jumps off the couch, goes to the tv, and then LOOKS BEHIND THE TV for the dog on the commercial.

we continue to laugh at him. the jew was squealing with laughter, in fact. he starts barking at the tv and gets very upset when he can't find the dog in the house.

the ruskie goes and gets her camera so we can get video of this. but, alas, as soon as the camera comes out he starts to pose and doesn't react to when the we rewind the video once more.

he realized that the dog was not really in the house. either that, or he didn't want us to laugh at him anymore.

this would be a witty title if i wasn't still drunk...

it's 1016 hrs. that's 10:16 am for those not militarily inclined. i'm still drunk from last night.

my kraut is in town. she's my roommate from when i lived in the land of corn and soy (no milk and honey here, people). she's just about the most fun you can have with someone with your clothes on.

i had a lot to drink last night. a lot.i haven't had more than 2 since the last time my kraut was in town in october. so after not eating much food yesterday,the alcohol hit me pretty hard. i drank a lot though, so i'm not going to consider myself a lightweight. i calculated it all out. granted it was drunk calculation, but i'm never good with math so i figured the alcohol wouldn't affect me too much with the addition. this amount of alcohol is not recommended for anyone. ever.

40 oz of blueberry stoli & lemonade
24 oz of bicardi gold rum and diet caramel cream pepsi
24 oz of malibu coconut rum and diet coke
32 oz of malibu coconut rum and sugar free red bull
16 oz of malibu coconut rum and cranberry juice

that amounts to, well, a lot of alcohol. i think over a gallon.

what's the jew/ruskie connection in all this you may ask (or not)?

the jew came and picked me up from my drinking location after she finished playing g-d again. at like 3am. gets me in the car. listens to me babble. a lot. stopped me from making more drunk dial calls than i wanted to. gets me home. and proceeds to sit on the couch, take my heart rate (which she scarily enough knows my normal resting one, btw) and subjects herself to this:

"jew?"
"hmmm?"
"insert incoherent can't remember what i said, probably embarrassing question?"
"uh-huh"

pause.

"jew?"
"hmmm?"
"insert another incoherent babbling embarrassing can't remember question?"
"uh-huh."

pause. wash. rinse. repeat.

for a very long time.

until, finally:

"jew?"
silence.
"blahblahblahblahblah drunk rambling to a sleeping (or possibly pretending to be asleep, or possibly NO LONGER EVEN ON THE COUCH jew" (possibly a very important thing i said here, btw,but probably not.)
silence.
"you're the best, jew. my favorite."

and then i passed out.


i've said it a few times before and over the course of my life i will say it again, i know (probably because it's the one truth i hold as a finite one): i have the best jew for my person in the whole wide world. she really is my favorite. not just for putting up with me like that, but for putting up with me ever. she's my favorite of all time.

hands down.

so thank you, jew. you deserve a medal.

(i'm amazed i spelled this all correctly without having to spell check anything. i'm also amazed i didn't lose my pants last night. i rock.)

don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys (or antonio banderas)

i'm a little concerned. the ruskie keeps speaking about how she's going to steal the dog when she goes to houston. no matter how much i tell him all the reasons he shouldn't go to houston, i'm convinced that i'm going to come home one day and his bags (filled with balls and high heels) will be packed and he'll be thumbing (or dew clawing) his way across country with the ruskie (they could probably take her terrorist mobile though).

now, usually i wouldn't be so concerned seeing as the nights that i'm at work slaving away at the crime fighting, the jew is home protecting the dog from being hauled off to mess with texas.

however, tonight the jew is playing god overnight on some ambulance and i'll be off saving the world (not really) until 11pm. and then my kraut is coming and we're off to get pancakes & rum until probably 3am.

this leaves a prime opportunity for the ruskie to steal the dog!

i'm very concerned. very concerned indeed.

(his eyes aren't closed cause he's sleeping, they're closed because he really loves sombreros. which is why i'm so concerned!)

i think the fever has gone to my head...

i'm home sick. fever. vomiting. chills. the whole works. i got bored. i couldn't help myself:

the jew. the ruskie. the gypsy.


oh, and there's a story behind the jew's clothes. boy, is there a story.

a very small price to pay, indeed.

sigh. it's that time of month where i get absolutely confused and the jew has to swoop in and save the day. yes, it's rent/utility time in this politically incorrect household. i can never seem to figure it all out. it's very complicated, and keep in mind that i'm a natural blonde not inclined towards numbers. some might think that it would be an easy process, everything split 3ways. but no. it's actually not that simple. there's a bunch of other behind the scenes deals and workings and whatnots.

no matter what i do, i can't make the numbers add up to exactly what the jew figures out. probably because she's way smarter than me.

i've decided to just kinda wait and be surprised at the end of the month when the jew and the ruskie put money into my account. and, really, i have the easy job of just writing one check. and, also, i think it's much easier to be surprised than to deal with the headache i give myself trying to balance it all out.

it'll be much easier once all the behind the scenes deals are all worked out and all that. but really, i figure it's a small price to pay considering without them here, headache and all, this house wouldn't be a home.