abs.

let me fill you in on a lil bit of whats happened in the past month and a half. during one of my trips to nyc, i fell. on the stairs. at the airport. (pause for laughter) 9000 people stop to watch. you know how many offer to help you up? no one but your damn self. i hobbled around nyc for a week. came back to florida to find out i had bruised bones and sprained tendons. the next 3 weeks were spent in and out of physical therapy for electro shock treatment.

today was my 2nd day back in the gym since the injury. yay me! i was able to walk/run on the treadmill for 30 minutes. yes, jamie, i did run. i am amazed too. from there i went to the mat to catch up on ab work. as im laying there a socially awkward guy also approaches the mat. he does not sit down. he begins stretching in a very overly exaggerated manner. i think he thought he was training for dodgeball in the special olympics. ok, fine. good for him.

weirdo: "so... you doing abs?" (umm... actually these are tricep excercises.)
weirdo: "you do abs every day huh?" (huh? are you still talking to me?)

to which i respond "well i am trying to get back into it, yeah." you would think he would stop talking now as he can see im short of breath.

weirdo: "so, what are you? brazilian?" (wtf buddy.)
me: "actually im from india."
weirdo: "ohhh... is that in pakistan?"
me: "umm no. india is a country."
weirdo: "right. right. yeah."
weirdo: "so... maybe we can get a drink tomorrow night?"
me: "very flattering. if i didnt already have plans with my boyfriend, id be there."
weirdo: "is he brazilian?" (dude are you a total dipshit?)

at this point i turned around. i think he walked away.

thank you, imaginary boyfriend, thank you.

beach.

i decided to go to the beach this past weekend. please dont ask me why. i have no legit answer for you and i will be forced to trout-slap you if you pester me further. first of all, it took me 45 minutes to find a parking spot. do you know i live less than 1 mile from the beach? when i finally find a goddamn spot its in a lot thats being patrolled by pigs to make sure the 1 hr limit is strictly enforced. fine. thats all i need anyway.

i manage to find a relatively empty spot. as soon as i get there i remember why i hate the beach. i spend about 20 minutes per side before i start getting dizzy. i sip some water. at this point i feel like im going to begin to dry heave. i dont understand white people. this was one of the worst beach experiences of my life.

i got home, took off my bikini and looked in the mirror. i virtually switched ethinicities. it was just too much. i hopped in the shower and slathered on exfoliator. ha! take that uv rays!

thank god i was born brown colored.

caution.

i just purchased a t3 flat iron. ooh. aah. i also just purchased about $200 worth of ojon. really, it's been a great few days of retail therapy. so last night after i tore open the box to my new pink flat iron i decided i had to straighten my hair right away. normally i would do this in my own bathroom. but, no, not last night. i decided i needed to spend over an hour in the powder room so that i could have the tv playing in the background so i could hear the mets give away a 5-2 lead in the 9th inning.

lets picture a bathroom with a glass countertop. (for those with no ability to do this, i am providing a photograph.)

about 47 minutes into the straightening process, with about 4 sections left to straighten, i place the striaghtener ever so gently on the counter. and thats when i heard it. "clink". i picked up the iron only to reveal a crack 2 inches in length.

oh. my. god.

i thought if i cleaned up the bathroom really nicely and then ran off to bed nobody would notice. i even washed my hair right away to get it back to its curly fro-like state. (as if this would somehow release me from the crime i had just commited... out damn spot...) an hour with an iron to my head... down the drain.

in the morning i went to look at the crack. it grew from 2 inches to about 12. great. how about instead of a stupid caca warning on the iron like "do not use on or near eyes"...umm, thank god for that warning, i was planning on straightening my eyelashes later... how about instead of that stupidity they put a warning like "do not place on glass" or "must be used with heat resistant mat". or better yet, why dont the asswipes at t3 provide you with a heat resistant mat when you spend between 125-250 dollars on one of their irons. how about that, huh?

stupid warning label.

park.

so its sunday... and that means that scooter gets to go to the dog park. what retard started the rumor that single people can meet other fantastic looking single people at a dog park? are you dumb? its a bunch of dogs sniffing butts and humping legs and pooing. how can you possibly find someone attractive while they are cleaning up after spike?

so as soon as i get to the park and sit down on a bench this weird guy says "hey i know you from that store"

umm... this is boca - i visit 117 stores a week. shopping is my drug and my therapy, how can you approach me with such a vague comment. so it turns out we bumped into each other at the three dog bakery when i was getting some yum yums for scooter. we talk for a bit and as soon as he finds out im 25 (he is 40) he is totally into me. eww. listen combover carl you are weirding me out - stop asking me so many personal questions. cant you tell im making the answers up? do i look like a historian? do you know i got a c in american history? i might as well have said i was a paleontologist.

as im leaving, this random "come to my van" looking guy decides to tell me im beautiful. umm, thanks buddy. i keep walking. he then tells me he likes my hair. ok. thanks. and my eyes. alright i get it. clearly you have never seen a girl before.

the dog park. its like match.com except its free.

jager.

on july 3 i was at a lovely lil place in nyc called the boat basin. aside from the table of 9 moms, 9 dads, and 9 ugly babies it was a great time. at some point in the evening chelsea and i decided to venture to the bar for some shots. we thought to start the evening out safely with soco and lime. we chased this with jameson (bad bad idea) and then onto some vodka shots and some crap called samantha jones. now i know youre probably wondering how i could be anywhere without having jager... it turns out, our bartender ebony... i would go back to this place just to be served by her - she was awesome... well ebony ruined the evening and my weekend by informing me that "jager is really bad for you girl! its like drinking gasoline and its damaging to your intestinal area or something!"

aww man!

well after some other shots that a GIRL bought me... i was def. done for the night... well the weekend. and now that i have had about 3 weeks to recover i think its time i research this whole jager situation.

after extensive research on google i have found nothing about jager and intestines. i did find a string of comments on a message board where someone said they would rather sip warm piss. thats sad. it seems the only negative aspect i could find on jager was the calorie count. 1 oz of jager has about 103 calories. goddamn. this worries me greatly. but then i remember that i have a gym membership.

viva jagermeister!

pyrotechnics.

the 4th of july is my favorite holiday. im not sure if its because i never forget the date or if its because i enjoy fireworks. it may be a combination of both. im really not sure. ill tell you what I do know though. i know i severely detest those people who encourage fireworks with cheering. this is not a sporting event, there is no cheering necessary. somebody please arrest these people. they are ruining the show. and frankly, its pissing me off.

the fireworks will not do better or score any game winning points because of a few “woooo’s” or “oh yeah’s”. you cannot sit around with some beers reminiscing about that time back in ’96 when the fireworks really lit up the sky and you really feel like your support made all the difference. the Super Bowl, the Stanley Cup, and March Madness i can see how a person may feel that they made an impact on how the guys performed. but fireworks? at least cheer on the poor schmo who has to light that stuff on fire. if anything, he deserves some credit.

and even if they have to cheer, why is it always that person im embarrassed to share my air with? maybe if we deprive him of some good clean air, that son of a bitch will shut the fuck up. but perhaps i am too harsh. sure he deserves air, but cant we filter it so that he only gets secondhand air? that would make me happy. im not asking for much, really.

i can see him now. actually the sneaky little bastard comes in various versions. there is the fat one. i mean, overweight, sorry. its all the same really. if your belly hangs over your jeans, you’re a fat ass. just go buy a bigger size. at least then people would say “aww, well at least he knows how to make the best of what hes got” or “at least she knows how to dress for her body type”. these are the people who can never seem to get a tan, only a sunburn. they drink natural light and actually enjoy eating barbeque. and lucky for me, they always find themselves a nice spot in front of me every bloody 4th of july. and accompanying them is usually a pair of the dirtiest little kids you have ever seen. The boy can be found stepping on lizards and the girl will most likely have some kind of a lollipop stuck in her hair. strawberry.

and just when you would think thats bad enough theres always some cocky bastard whistling and cheering with his frat buddies. these are the guys who show up with some pretty girls who all think they are entirely too fat when we all know that they have a nonexistent profile view. this type of “american” will come to the festivities in a designer t-shirt that is most likely plain white, blue jeans, and red lipstick on his cheek from one of the drunk chicks whose name he probably doesnt even care to know.

the list goes on.

this year i decided i would like to celebrate my independence day with my friends in new york city. funny how the one city that is a complete hodge podge of cultures is what many people think of as the ultimate american city. so we went to watch the yankees lose to the red sox. i even had a hot dog. oh and i was wasted. perhaps it was the liquid blinders but i am incedibly relieved to have fully avoided the aforementioned idiots this 4th of july. well except for that one guy that was cheering from the rooftop party we went to after the game... what a douche.

*sigh* god bless america...

blog.

i have not updated this blog. it seems the people are having issues with my lack of time to write on this thing. shut the hell up. write your own damn blog. i have been traveling, falling down stairs, going on shitty dates, and doing lots of random shots. so relax - i should have something posted here soon.