The White Rabbit

Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop.
-Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Said by the King to the White Rabbit
English author & recreational mathematician (1832 - 1898)

I followed the white rabbit this weekend and so I do not know where to begin, so I will attempt to being at the beginning. On Friday night my friend asked me to accompany her to something called a Pure Romance party which was being thrown by her coworker. For those of you who do not know what that is, it was marketed to me as a get together of sorts where one may procure sexual delights while eating tasty treats.... What my dear friend failed to mention to me was that her coworker and EVERYONE else at the party were over 55. Imagine the most sexually awkward Guess Whose Coming to Dinner...and you still wouldn't quite get it. Imagine if all of your mom's friends called you into a basement, put a vibrator in your hand and told you that you were about to play "Never have I ever" then you might have a better idea. Oh wait, did I mention that their version of Never have I Ever involves sitting on other peoples laps? I spent the first half of my Friday night thinking every 5 minutes "what new fresh hell is this?".......sitting in a half moon kindergarten circle passing around creams and devices, then sitting on middle aged woman's laps admitting to tales of my sexual exploits(PS. you don't get to explain, you just move to the next lap. I didn't get to say things like "it was college!"... "Jack Daniels is a hell of a drug!"). After that nightmare we were sent upstairs to the snack table, near the pictures of the hosts freckle faced children to look through our catalogue and make our selections. I could feel the children in the pictures judging me. I looked up from my booklet to see 7 Angela Lansburys putting on their spectacles, licking the tip of their pointer fingers then their lips and scanning the pages. One of them in particular had every model of everything and some Xanex she wasn't afraid to offer like they were tic tacs. Afterwards I went home and tried to drink until I couldn't feel feelings anymore, but that was a temporary fix....I still can't close my eyes, or look at bananas or smell strawberries.  I shudder when anyone reaches out to touch me. Hopefully I'll be OK in time.

Saturday night, nothing crazy to report. I went to see an amazing Beatles cover band and stayed relatively out of harms way.


Oh, but Sunday.... Hey Ladies, whenever your man comes to you and says "Hey Babe, you know how I 'insert some shit here he did that he only did because of you '?" he is going to ask you to do something terrible. My man followed that with "Can we go to a little person wrestling match?"....  I spent Sunday night in Lakewood with roughly 1,000 other people in a seedy bar backroom watching little people fight each other to the death. I'm not proud of myself. Who should be less proud of themselves? Perhaps the 6 girls who went into the ring during the "half time" show to have a grinding contest. The two best tiny gladiators laid down in the middle of the ring while girls of questionable moral fiber gyrated their tiny pelvises into the mat. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, it became a grind off. The one who clearly has spent time on the pole was greatly outshining the other. Her opponent realizing she was in danger of walking away with only her glaring self hatred and some measly participation points ripped off her shirt...and then her bra..... Whenever you are having a bad day Lovers and Friends I want you to think about this story, but most importantly that not only are you NOT grinding a tiny man into oblivion in front of a thousand of your peers, but you didn't take your bra off only to STILL LOSE to a more skill full fully clothed opponent..... I have a feeling that the girl who lost's darkest days are not behind her.

May God have mercy on us all....

It's 11 o clock, do you know where your youth is?

The reason no one has heard from me in days is because I am so deep in a Howard Hughes psychosis it's not even funny.  I went to see a movie the other night with my friend. We got there in enough time to catch all the previews because I'm an American and one preview in particular struck my fancy. The first scene was a panning shot of an island I recognized all too well and I said aloud "If this is another Jurassic Park movie, I'm going to lose my shit....Am I right, guy????" elbowing a random. If they make Jurassic Park 27, I would buy the pre sale tickets.  Low and behold the music we all know and love started playing and I thought, it's.about.to.go.down. Then it was revealed that it is just the first Jurassic Park being re released. Not quite as stoked, but still pretty happy. Then came the crushing blow, IT'S THE 20 YEAR ANNIVERSARY RELEASE.....I stopped breathing , my hands started sweating. For at least 5 solid minutes I considered the serious possibility I had fallen into a worm hole or some sort of time space continuum. I turned my hands over to search for wrinkles and started touching my face, checking for the same. I turned to my friend and said, quick,look me in the eyes and don't lie to me, am i 50? This was just the beginning.

I was OK when I was supervised but when left alone I took a dark turn. I thought perhaps I was Guy Pierce in some sort of warped Memento movie version of my life. I started wandering around my house as if it was the first time I had been there, finding things 21 year old me didn't even know existed. I'm not even sure the origin of these things coming into my possession. When did I started drinking Metamucil? Where did those multi vitamins come from? Who put these gel insoles in my shoes? When did I start calling TV shows "my stories"? The kids aren't saying "psyche" anymore? Is it cold in here? My knees and hips hurt, it must be cold outside....... My God, what is to become of me?

My address is now somewhere farther down the rabbit hole in an even deeper type of denial. I've been looking for Ace of Base concert tickets. I've watched every episode of Friends. Twice. I've been refusing to take my vitamins and eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for every meal because I am still young. I went to my parents' house to dig out my pog, baseball card and beanie baby collections which are obviously still relevant and worth something. I've been avoiding the mirror but today I went to the bathroom at work and caught an accidental glimpse of myself. My hair was in a super high messy bun and I had glitter on my face. My God, Brown, who are you? Pull yourself together for God sake, you look like a Spice Girl. S Club 7 is not putting out a new record and Nick Lachey is someone's dad.  Joel's been patient with you but you're about one more play of Nirvana's "Smells like teen spirit" from Joel having you committed.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm wading pretty deep in a quarter life crisis.  If you're among the lucky few to be invited to my intervention just know when you are attempting to ask me if the rag you're holding smells like chloroform, that I will not go quietly into the night.

Rainbow Brite

As some of you may or may not know I have been sick since Friday. My boss banned me from stepping foot in the office and as such I have been spending the past few days in my onesy pjs (which i call my jammy jams) drinking juice, watching trashy television and getting bed sores. I realized I needed to go to work when Joel came home one day to find me covered in tissues and gummy bear remnants and mumbling something about watching"my stories". However I will say that too much time to think does funny things to a person. Yesterday (my last day as lord of the flies) I saw Rev Run and Tyrese give an interview touting the new book they are selling about things girls need to know about men to keep themselves from getting played *insert exaggerated eye roll here* Let me save you valuable time ladies. I wrote the entire book for you. It is one sentence. That sentence is "Anytime a guy invites you over to *quotation fingers*" watch a movie", he might as well be playing the song "d*ck in a box" in the background." the end. Where is my Pulitzer?

I think I am going to write a book for women, at least women like me. It is going to be about things women need to know about life in order to not play themselves. I'll give you a taste. Chapter One is going to be called Rainbow Brite- Real Talk. So the other day my friend and I decide that it is going to be a stay in cocktail night. I love skinny girl cocktails and Target has the largest collection in my neck of the woods but we broke up a while ago due to Target getting uppity in the mid 2000s. You're Walmart's older brother that showered and wears mock turtle necks, get over yourself.  However, I got a gift card there for Christmas, so you know what it is. Since it was stay in night I put on my finest OU hoodie and sweatpants  and because I had dragged my feet I arrived at Target at 9:54. For people who aren't night time shoppers let me let you know, Target don't play. I'm 98% sure that at 8:00 the manager has a meeting and says "alright crimson tide gather round and take a knee, lets pack this shit up.. turn the clocks ahead 15 minutes and give them the 10 minute warning accordingly. Cindy, put on your civilian clothes, go to the back and start a rumor that you heard the last person to the register gets punched in the neck...now's your time to shine,live in it,make it your truth,you know what to do". So because I heard this rumor, I speed walked to the back, passing someone I thought I knew and grabbed all the booze my little baby arms could hold and then sped walked back to the register. I feel the person in the line next to mine staring at me. Guess, who it was everyone? My 7th grade Catholic school teacher. So, just to recap, I look like I live in a van down by the river, with my arms full of booze, and the teacher who had so many hopes and dreams for my little life is standing in front of me making idle conversation and trying her best not to stare at the 10 car pile up I'm holding. Of course I take this time to let her know I graduated from college (moved the bottles so she could read my hoodie) and told her about my job....Right when I feel like I'm starting to dig myself out, a grown man in full make up wearing Rainbow Brite pj's and Ugg boots hears our discussion and says "Omg girl, you work in Chagrin Falls??!!!!??" and wonders into our conversation to talk for 15 unbelievably awkward minutes.....really? Really. This has never happened before and will never happen again in Medina. It only happened because of the situation I was in. Sometimes I go to my bedroom window and gaze at the moon and wonder if Rainbow Brite is looking at the same moon. I can only hope that my 7th grade teacher, her husband and her kids who were all present think of Rainbow Brite and I sometime in the future, say 'Remember when..?' then throw back their heads and laugh...

Letter to South Park Mall

Dear Southpark Mall,
You know I love you and you're my boo. We've been rocking together for over a decade now so you should trust me when I say, get your shit together. What do I mean ? You know damn good and well that a floor mat the size of a toilet paper square in Ohio in January is not sufficient. Why do I care so much ? Yesterday when I was entering your fine establishment as soon as I stepped off the toilet paper square my foot slid out , thusly positioning me in what can only be described as a deep lunge. In order to compensate I said aloud to no one in particular "yep,always good to get a quick stretch in before you shop. I'm about to spend some money up in here !" *inner monologue - 'did I just say "up in here "?.....what am I, an extra from Big Momma's House ? F*** me.'*......so you can see where I would be concerned. Please take in this comment and adjust accordingly. Thanks.

Making it Rain

Well kids, rough start to the weekend for your girl for 2 reasons :
First of all I woke up sick as shit today , but I still went to work and got sent home. I decided the next logical step would be to muster up the cutest, sickest baby voice ( which wasn't hard bc I sound like I've been chewing broken glass and smoking 10 packs a day my whole life ) then call my mother to convince her to come over and the following conversation happened:
Me: mommy, I'm sick, can you please come take care of me ? Teddy (my fur baby ) would but he lacks the necessary opposable thumbs...
Mom: *laughter* girl , it is 15 degrees outside , you better get some soup and some medicine and pull your life together. You live directly across the street from walmart*laughter .*
Me: I didn't want to play this card mom, but you forced my hand....its black history month
Mom : *laughter*

Needless to say, I'm flying solo.

For the second story it is necessary to know 3 things, today I am driving my bfs suv bc of the weather, I am 5'1 and as such have baby sized appendages, and I've lost more weight so my current pants are ill fitting.

So I decide to stop on the way home to put my check in the bank and pull some cash out. With some struggling I was able to reach the area where one would insert a check and complete that mission. However, the area where one would pull the cash out from is lower, thusly causing me to have to open the door , hold on to the steering wheel and Indiana Jones my way to the money. As you can imagine this is not a full proof plan so when I leaned out to get the money, I fell to the ground, my pants fell down and bc my fingers had grazed the money it rained on me, thus covering me with 20s. Do you know what its like to be in the suburbs, laying on the ground with your ass out covered in 20s? I'll tell you, its a rough place to be. I wanted to yell things to the spectators like : I'm a Christian ! I have a college degree ! I pay taxes ! But I knew none of this would help. So, I stood up, grabbed my pants, the money and my dignity off the ground and continued my journey home.

It's only noon .....