Three posts in one day?! Jeebu Cristo!

I've totally been keeping up with the working out thing. Man, the first 3 days were painful. And I mean, IT LITERALLY TOOK ME FIFTEEN SECONDS TO WALK ACROSS OUR LIVING ROOM WHICH IS TEN FEET ACROSS painful. And I remember totally struggling to do three pushups the first day (which was way shameful for me, since I was the Pushup Queen in elementary school P.E.). But now I've gotten to the point where I can do ten normal and ten tricep pushups with minimal struggle AND I've started actually utilizing our apartment's gym. I've gone on a little jaunt (a healthy mix of walking, jogging, sprinting and cursing) on the treadmill for 25 - 30 minutes for the last two days. Go me. Being on the brink of T.H.I.R.T.Y. does wonders for getting your self-ass-kicking in gear. 

Anyway, this was all to get to the point of this story which is: In order to get to our gym, I have to walk about fifty feet outdoors (across the splooge tub and pool area) - which I try to avoid doing after the sun has gone down because that is when the summertime monster mosquitoes come out to play feast, but I didn't avoid it this evening - and I came back from the workout to find that A MOTHEREFFING MOSQUITO BIT ME ON THE TIP OF MY EFFING NOSE. So now I have a red protuberance that looks exactly like a pimple...except it has the added charm of itching like a mofo. Fahrfegblurghen.

Who does the best Chicken Wiiiings?

BB?

or Bela?

ps. I totally blurred out BB's lady bits in her picture. It was too graphic for me to feel comfortable posting it. Ahaha! ...Bela has no bits anymore. Poor Bela.

*****

Oh, and since it is pretty much the greatest thing ever, I have to share with you all the photo that Dan made. 

The original:                                                                              Dan's version:

 

HA!

Schmoobs comes home tomorrow!

I guess that means I should start shaving my legs again. Har.

In the meantime:

3am emails are never a good thing...

I just sent my sister an email. Here is an excerpt:

"You may be asking yourself why I'm still up at nearly 3am. It's because I just called the cops on a couple of naked people having sex in our communal hot tub. Which is outside! Which is right in the middle of like at least 50 apartment units that look right into it! Hey, I'm no prude... But I don't want to think about somebody else's splooge whenever I want to use the hot tub. Plus, little kids spend all day at the pool and hot tub these days! That's just gross."

Look, I have no problem with people expressing their *ahem* affection for each other in a physical way. Even if they find it extra thrilling to do so in a public place. Please just don't do it anywhere that I would ever have a likely chance of coming into contact with any of your foreign matter. Seriously.  Not enough hours in the day to shower all that smegma and potential syphillis off of my body.

In other news, since I'm up anyway: This working out thing is simultaneously kicking my ass and totally awesome. After recovering from the first 2 or 3 days of my body rebelling against the sudden and drastic increase in physical activity after about ten years of relative dormancy, in which it decided to make every single muscle tighten up and burn with the pain of a thousand hellfires at any subtle movement, my body feels great and I'm already starting to actually see changes! How about that. Also, I have learned that after working and sweating and pushing your body, the desire for Cheetos becomes greatly diminished. Or maybe it's just because I'm not PMS-ing anymore.

Editorial note: Wow, I used the words "splooge" and "smegma" in the same blog post. Awesome. (But sorry Mom)

UPDATE: Well, I just woke up and saw that the hot tub has now been drained and is currently being refilled (hopefully with bleach). It seems I am not the only one who was treated to a little public naked time last time. Haw!

A quickie.

1. So despite having only one elitist surly kitty and a rambunctious clingy puppy as my companions, I still had a great birthday thanks to wonderful friends, family and a Schmoobins. Thanks to all! So I didn't need to drown my sorrows in liquor and messy drunken blogging after all. Everybody wins!

2. Speaking of birthdays: Happy Birthday to my older brother Tardo* today! He is currently (at least I think he still is) in Vancouver celebrating being an old man with his new, surely fabulous girlfriend. I say "surely" because I have not met her yet and only recently learned of her existence through casual conversation with my mother and not through my actual brother. Harumph. Uh, hellooo Tardz, you're supposed to tell your sisters about these things so that they can simultaneously approve of your choice in females and bust your balls at the same time. Doy. Anyway, Happy Birthday! Way to know two years in advance to not exit our mother's womb a few hours earlier than you did so that we would not be forced to share the same birth date every year!

3. So, when I was at dinner at our friends' house the other night, we were looking through some of their old pictures (for their wedding DVD) and Jen said something about one of Mason'sold drum corps pictures being with an "Oriental girl." I didn't say anything, because I've come to realize that a lot of times - especially depending on where a person is from and their, let's say, lack of experience living in other parts of the country - people don't mean to be offensive, they just haven't learned what is considered appropriate or not. But then, later on that evening, either I or Mason said something about me being "Asian" and then Jen (who happens to be a Texas-born-and-raised Mexican) asked, "So...you're not offended by that term? 'Asian'?" And then I believe I said something like, "Nooo... I mean, well, 'Asian' is the politically correct term these days, isn't it? That's what I thought anyway..." I just thought it was interesting that she thought "Oriental" was okay and that "Asian" was offensive. So I said, "Honestly, I'm not really offended by either term. I just think 'Oriental' is more...outdated." If anything, it just makes me feel as though I am suddenly in a production of The King and I or something. In any case, I just found it to be interesting. Oh, Texas...

And anyway, as I've mentioned before, real Asians don't even classify me as Asian. So surely that means I'm not "Oriental" either. So what the eff am I? A Hybrid? A Not-Quite-Asian? An Almost-Asian? A Definitely-Not-White-But-Can't-Quite-Put-My-Finger-On-It? How about "One Who Tans More Easily Than You"? Ha. 

* Not his real name...

Happy Birthday to meeeee!orWell, that was wholly unpleasant.*** Now with Super Awesome UPDATE!!

Note to self: Add "more than 1 1/2 glasses of white wine" to the list of Things Ysabel Can No Longer Drink Now That She Is IN THE FINAL YEAR OF HER TWENTIES AAAAAAACK. Oh how my stomach lining burned last night. 

In other news: I'd really like to keep up with my 30-Day Torture routine this morning, but my calves and thighs are still incredibly sore and even the thought of doing one jumping jack makes me want to cry. I think I'll take BB for a walk instead and grab some coffee and postpone the workout until this evening. I promise!

*****

Squee squeee squeeeeeeeeee!!

I got a phone call from Schmooblebunnies this morning wishing me a Happy Birthday, during which he casually asked me to go to his car and look in the glove compartment for "something he needs." 

I am only slightly ashamed to admit that I did not get right away that this was a blatant set-up to lead me to my birthday present. I am going to go ahead and blame that on the fact that I had not had any coffee yet and my brain was not fully functional. Anyway. I went down to his car and shuffled around his glove compartment for a few seconds...and found this!

Hard to tell, but it's a card with my name on it. And inside...
"You have found the first clue! Now look for the 'Journeys with George' DVD for you next one..."

A Birthday Treasure Hunt! AWESOME!! Best Schmooblebuns Ever!!

But first, I hopped inside his car to get a birthday present to myself -- something to help ensure that my brain would perform to its best ability during this activity:

When I got back, I went through our tower of DVDs and found ...*shudder*... this DVD with this card slipped on top.

Inside: "Watch this DVD for your next clue...Just kidding!!! Look on top of the fridge :)"

After a bit of finagling and stretching and painful climbing (damn 30-Day Shred) of the countertop to see on top of the fridge, I found the next clue.

Inside: "Don't you miss me playing X-Box? Good! Go look under it!"

Under the X-Box was this awfully cute clue.

Inside: "Remember when you wanted a beagle? Instead of a BB?!? For that, your hunt continues! Look under Bela's palace! :)"

The final clue. It was a musical card, even!

BB found this particular clue fascinating.

Inside: "And now...go back to my car & find the spare tire...there is your present!"

...And Schmoobliebuns got me an iPod touch!! Wowowowee!! 

As much as I love this present (as it continues to feed a growing dependence on technological distractions), it was the thoughtfulness and time that went into the treasure hunt that I loved the most. 

Funny aside: The (eeearly) morning that I had to drive Schmoobs to the airport a few days ago, I woke up to find him already showered and packed so I started rushing to get ready. Schmoobs, however, kept saying, "Why don't you go back to sleep?" and "There's still time. My flight's delayed. You should go back to sleep." and "Don't you want to go back to sleep? Maybe you should go back to sleep." I responded, rather crankily, "You said we were supposed to leave by seven." and proceeded to take a quick five-minute shower. Luckily, after that I laid back down on the bed (you know, to "rest my eyeballs") and fell asleep for another half hour. Which is a lucky thing because, as Schmoobs explained to me on the phone today, he was trying to get me to go back to sleep because he hadn't finished setting up all the cards yet. And I was clueless (pun quasi-intended)! Ha!

Another funny aside: Last night, over that regrettable stomach-lining burning bottle of wine, I brought up the subject of Schmoobs' birthday to our friends. And I said, "Well, I know he really wants an iPod touch because he won't stop talking about those things..."

Ouch. My ass.*** ETA: Now with depressing Pre-Birthday Update!

Have you heard of this thing called "The 30-Day Shred"? No? Well, let me tell you. IT IS THE DEVIL. I don't know. I've come across a couple bloggers in the past couple of weeks talking about the torture - and effectiveness - of this workout and, being the masochist that I am, I decided to give it a go*. Because, even though I will still be teaching lessons through the end of this coming week, and will be working as the "Dorm Mom" for three weeks at this summer music camp next month**, it essentially is summer vacation for me. Meaning that I spent all of Friday in a horizontal position on the couch watching bad television, surfing the internets and shoving Cheetos into my face hole. And so I woke up Saturday morning feeling like a complete flabtastic mess and decided to do something about it. Also, my Monthly Confirmation That I Am Indeed Without Child is essentially over and so I am finally capable of doing something else besides flailing about on the couch, while rubbing my back and cursing at my ovaries.

Anyway, Day 1 of The 30-Day Torture was yesterday and I am proud to say I got through it alright. At least I thought I did until I went to get a drink of water and my arm muscles were so zapped that, as I lifted the glass towards my face, my arms gave out and the ice water ended up all over the right side of my face instead of in my mouth. And then my first words this morning as I rolled out of bed and stepped foot on the floor were, "SON OF A ---!" I am feeling it especially in the calves, thighs and ass area, so I am walking very gingerly around the apartment like a bow-legged geriatric. But it's the good kind of pain, right? In any case, just completed Day 2 this morning. Am rewarding myself with a good gigantic cup of coffee. And hopefully zero Cheetos...

Oh, and in Totally Depressing and Self-Pitying and How-The-Hell-Did-I-Become-So-Codependent News: Schmooblebunnies left for Spring Training for his drum corps this weekend and will be gone for a whole week. And my birthday is tomorrow. *cue violins* And so I will be turning twenty-nine (ack ack ack) with no Schmoobs and no family and no good friends to celebrate with. But at least I will have Bela and BB! Not quite sure what I will do yet. So far, the only thing I can think of is to buy a bottle of celebratory something and have a birthday cocktail or two at home if only so I can write a belligerent and nonsensical drunken birthday post. How does that sound? Completely pathetic and depressing, right? Blurgh!

* ps. The entire workout DVD set is posted on YouTube so I didn't have to buy anything. Huzzah!

** $600 a week just to corral a bunch of adolescent band nerds? Yes please! Or wait....

*****

UPDATE:

Just got back from having dinner at a friend's house. Actually two friends. They're a couple who are getting married in a couple of weeks. And one of them is Scott's (now former) TA at his job, Jen, and the other is her fiancee, Mason, who is a middle school band director. I texted them earlier to see if they wanted to grab a drink this evening (Look at me all initiating social time ... with other humans no less!) and somehow finagled an invite over to their place for dinner and drinks. Anyway. Mason and I polished off a bottle of Riesling at dinner while Jen had some disgusting cocktail of Rum and orange juice (*blergh*...Rum. My stomach shudders at the thought. And mixed with sugary fruit juice? Pardon me while I hold my finger against my lips to prevent the vomit from coming out...). And dinner was homemade chicken enchiladas. Yum. And they called me back just in the nick of time, seeing as how I was getting ready to make a dinner of banana and chocolate muffins and maybe some jello for dinner (I'm not kidding). I think the enchiladas and wine was a tastier choice. Although I fear I may have the dreaded Liquor Sh*ts tomorrow. I cal already feel it in my booooowels.  Ack.

1. Will this interfere with my 30-Day Shred routine?

2. I hope not because walking around as if I have just recently received legs and am learning a new set of motor skills is quite entertaining and I would like to prolong that experience as much as possible.

3. I think this may officially disqualify my plan to get liquored up and write a belligerent blog post tomorrow night, seeing as how I am old and no longer in the game and unable to handle consecutive nights of alcohol. Which is probably for the best. But what to do tomorrow? Blarh.

TMI: Updated

OMG I AM SO BLOATED. And it has only to do with stupid female hormones and not at all to do with the fact that I have been on an unstoppable fried-foods-on-a-stick and Cheetos and chocolate dipped forbidden ice cream diet for the past week. 

So my little Star*ucks experience on Saturday was but a Mother Nature Fakeout, and I have only just today gotten my Monthly Confirmation That I Am Indeed Without Child. Meaning that these last four days have been nothing short of a hormone-overdrive, chicken nuggets- corn dogs- and forbidden dairy-filled, cry-fest nightmare.  Seriously, I've never been so relieved to get my monthly Backache of Doom in my entire life. 

*****

Also, in Starb*cks FAIL news:

Phone call between me and Schmoobs earlier today:

Ys: Hello?

Schmoobs: I ATE BUGS.

Ys: ...What do you mean?

Schmoobs: I JUST ATE BUGS!! I went to Starb*cks and started eating my pastry when I looked down and noticed there were bugs on it. And then I looked in the bag and there were bugs in there too.

Ys: Oh my God. Gross.

Schmoobs: Yeah.

Ys: Well. Protein and all that stuff. Did they at least give you anything? Free stuff?

Schmoobs: They said I could have anything I wanted.

Ys: Uh..."I'll have your HEAD ON A PLATE!"*

(* Although, in retrospect, I think "I'll take that espresso machine" would be a more prudent choice.)

******

And finally, some household animals videos!!

1. Bela had been napping on the papasan for a good hour or so when BB jumped up there, not realizing (assumedly) that Bela was already there. Surprisingly, Bela tolerated being within a one foot radius of BB for about thirty seconds before he couldn't take it anymore. I caught the last few seconds of the two BFFs sharing the cozy papasan (and, yes, that is Dolly Parton singing in the background):

2. One of BB's most bizarre and hypnotizing pastimes is something I like to call "Digging For Treasure" in which she will manically dig at the couch or papasan or bed as though feverishly searching for some undiscovered treasure. Luckily her wee little nails are harmless and don't do any damage to the furniture at all. This particular instance of Digging for Treasure didn't last too long. Sometimes she'll go at it for like ten minutes until she tires herself out. What do you think is under there, BB? A bowlful of hard boiled eggs? A pile of chicken bones?

TMI.

Schmoobliebunz and I are sitting in Star*ucks with our laptops - it's all very yuppie hipster - forcing ourselves to take care of end-of-the-year grades and paperwork once and for all. Went to the (public .... *shudder*) bathroom to tinkle and came back to announce (to Schmoobs, not the entire world) that "Well, I am officially without child this month." 

And thank Jeebus for that because - aside from the most obvious of reasons - I don't think I could have handled another day like yesterday, in which I completely annihilated a plateful of chicken nuggets and 3 corndogs with a soda and a handful of chocolate truffles. In one sitting. 

***

ETA:

Dear student: The correct spelling is "serialism." Not "cerializm."

I'm intoxicated.

So. Her'es the thing. It needs tob e 2010 rifht now. Becuase I love LOST so uch. Obviously Jacog and Esau are in some kind of biblical battle of good vs. evil. But is Jacob good or is he viel? I'm 99% sure that he is good, but 1% kwoning of the fact that this show is LOST and everything is copletely the opposite of what you were so sure what was right. Does that mae sense? i don't know. I had a copule of martinis. And I'm not going to edit and speell check this mofo liek the last time I drink blogged. All I know is that Juliet is the awesomest heroine ever and totally kicks Kate's ass. Also. I read somewhere that either Lindelof or Cuse said that "if anyone truly understood the meaning behind the title of the very first episode, then they would understood the meaning of the entire show." And the title of the first episode was "The Pilot." So I think it has something to do with Frank Lapidus, who was supposed to catpian flight 815 instead of Greg Grundberg. And how maybe Jacob is going to channel his body just like NotLocke channeled the bodies of Christian Shepard and Claire and Locke, etc.  And then he will prevail. AAAAUGH. I want to know what happens NOW NOW NOW NWO WNOWONWONW.

Also, I got this email from one of my Music Lit students on myphone as I was drinking my martini with Schmoboliebunnise:

"Thank you for a wonderful experience, and for the best class I've had during my College

career yet! Have a great summer as well."

And one of my other students whispered to me, as she was turning in her Final Exam the other day, "Thank you. I really enjoyed your class." Too which I responded by bursting into a zillion pieces and then each of those zillion pieces did somersaulsts all aroudn the classroom.

Yay!!! I'm a good teacher!!!!! The end.  zZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzz

A peek into our future.

"Rockabye BB in the treetop. When the bough brakes, the cradle will fall..."

That doesn't even rhyme!

In other news: Uh, when did it become okay for students to continuously email - or, better yet, call their teacher's cellphones*  - a mere 24 hours after a final exam to demand their grades? Jeebus. It's called "We have more responsibilities than just catering to your every last need, child." 

In other words: No, I do not have your final grade yet. They will be posted by Monday at 5pm - you know, along with everybody else as per university policy. ps. If you spent more time practicing and studying, instead of whining and making excuses, maybe you wouldn't have to be so worried about your grade.

* Happened to a colleague of mine, not me. Like I would ever let a student anywhere near my cellphone number. Ha! As if!

Psyching myself up for LOST tonight!! (and trying to remain in denial that it is the Season Finale...SAD FACE!)

You know what happens when you leave your camera's memory card on a TV tray next to the couch while you go to take a shower?

It will go missing, but then you'll find it later that night on the living room floor with three very distinct puppy tooth marks on it. Oh, and it won't work anymore. Ugh.

Fortunately, I went to Best Buy and upgraded from a 128MB card (I know, right? It held like 3.2 seconds of video...) to a 4GB one and now find myself obsessed with taking videos of the household animals because my camera can now hold over 3 hours of video footage. Awesome. The result, of course, being that you all get to be delighted with an assortment of BB and Bela videos. I trust this will be the closest I will get - for the time being...for the looong time being - to bombarding you all with obnoxious baby pictures and videos, so just humor me okay?

1. BB and Bela: A Love Story

2. BB and Her Little Pony

ps. BB seems to undergo the transformation from unbearably cute little ball of fluff to scruffy little ball of stink overnight. She is definitely in the latter stage right now. Good thing she's got a grooming appointment this Saturday.

*****

ETA:  

OMFG. LOST. LOST LOST LOST LOSTLOSTLOSTLOST!!!!!

*breathe*

AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGHH!!!!!

*drink of water*

Seriously, somebody knock me out and just wake me up in January and spare me the terrible bleak existence of 8 months without knowing what happens next...

...AAAAAAAAAUUUGH!! JACOBJULIETFAKELOCKEAAAAAAUUUGHGHGHG!!!

Boozin' and Bloggin'

TGIF!

So I had my requisite Friday night Ketel One martini. Um, and two pizzas -- BUT they were hoity toity hipster bar portions AND shared with Schmoobliebonniebonbons. The first pizza was BBQ duck with mandarin oranges and some other stuff that I can't remember. It was good. The second one was grape tomatoes, pesto and goat cheese. Yum. I heart goat cheese. Especially when accompanied by caramelized onions which, unfortunately, were not one this pizza. Otherwise it would have been REALLY good.

Oh, and when did it become okay for thirteen year old girls to wear shorts out in public that have less fabric than my underwear? Jesus Christ. I passed by a little teeny bopper with her group of youth (ugh) friends with microscopic tight short shorts that, even with the minimal fabric it was made of, still managed to have slits up both legs that went all the way up her hips practically to her goddamn waist. Ugh. Remind me never to have a daughter. And if I do, remind me to send her to a nunnery on her thirteenth birthday. 

My only goal of the night is to make it into my bedtime shower and actual bed before passing out for the night. Ugh, this after just one cocktail? For shaaame. I guess that's what happens when  you're not 22 years old anymore. Blaaaar.

Man, my eyelids weigh like ten pounds each right now. I wonder if this is the night when "resting my eyes for a minute" will actually mean "resting my eyes for a minute" and not "passing out and waking up at 4am sprawled out on the couch with Food Network on television." 

Oh Christ, I think I'm still hungry. WHY ISN'T THERE A WHITE CAKE WITH WHIPPED CREAM AND BUTTERCREAM FROSTING SITTING IN FRONT OF MY FACE RIGHT NOW?!?! Or some warm apple pie... Or some hot peach cobbler with a brown sugar crisp on top and vanilla ice cream on the side...

A few things.

1. I love teaching (Most of the time. Not when grading tests. Or when my students are annoying idiotic morons...). What I don't love is when I have to teach a clarinet lesson in a stuffy practice room and my student smells like what he had for lunch which, in a particular case today, I suspect may have been McDonald's french fries and an egg salad sandwich with pickles. BARF. (Confession aside: Every time I am about to type "barf" - which is more often than you'd think - I always think "barph or barf?" But I always pick the proper one in the end. True story. End aside)

2. Ugh, could it beee any more humid here today? Jeebus. I'm pretty sure we're one percent humidity away from literally walking through water. Warm, pollen-filled water. Good thing I ducked into deliciously air-conditioned Target at the end of the day and found myself a beautiful dark red gigantic (just how I like 'em) purse on sale for a zillion percent off (wait, that can't be right...). Score!

3. This one's for Sarah L.: OMG! Locke is totally Gandalf the White!! You are SO right.

4. Oh, and speaking of teaching: I had my last official day of college teaching for the semester (Final Exams next week). I celebrated - in true "cool, hip teacher" fashion - by bringing donuts and juice to class. Needless to say, it was very well received by the penniless hungry college crowd. (Small aside: At the beginning of class, I was running late and still had to run to the car to get the donuts and napkins so I told the class that I would be back in five minutes. To which one of the students asked, "Is it because you have to get coffee?" HA. How well they come to know me after just a few months. End aside) 

Note to self: Bring donuts to class the day before you do course evaluations, not the day after. D'oh. Another one to add to the list of Things To Do Differently Next Time. 

And then we spent the rest of the class playing the first ever annual Baaaattle of the Braaaiiiins! The game, in which a pre-Final Exam review session is masked under the guise of a merciless survival of the fittest challenge, involves me asking the class questions involving anything and everything we have ever discussed/read/listened to in class that semester with the goal being the last person remaining in the game. The rules are that whoever raises his/her hand to answer my question first gets to answer (duh). If they answer incorrectly, they are eliminated from the game. However, if they answer correctly, they get to choose somebody to eliminate. Sample questions included:

1.  List all of the musical time periods in chronological order.

2.  Who was the "Red Priest"?

3.  Spell "Renaissance"

4.  What are the 3 components of sonata-allegro form, in order?

5.  What is the nickname for Beethoven's Symphony no. 3?

6.  List the years for the Baroque period.

7.  Name the time period and composer for the Wind Serenade "Gran Partita"?

8.  What is the standard instrumentation for a woodwind quintet?

9.  Listening Round: I'd play an excerpt from a piece of music, and they would name the time period and composer/genre/title.

10. Name two instruments that were introduced during the Classical Period.

11. Define, or explain the difference between monophony, polyphony and homophony.

12. Name the 3 main composers of the First Viennese School.

13. Define Janissary music.

and so forth.

Let me tell you, it got quite ruthless (i.e. awesome) with the eliminations. Nothing erases the bonds of friendship faster than a free gift card. It was so much fun. Another note to self: Do a few more Battle of the Brains days next year (I hope!) for fun. Hooray for edumacational fun! Anyway, I had only enough in my funds to have prizes for 2 rounds of Battle of the Brains (a $15 Star*ucks gift card and a $15 iTunes giftcard), but the class was having so much fun playing the game, that they wanted to keep going even after the prizes were given out ("We can play for that pen on your desk!" Ha!) In the end, we had time to do a third round and the prize was 5 extra credit points on their Final Exam. 

Anyway, it was good times. I like teaching college. I hope I get to do some more of it. The end.

Take that, Piggy Flu Paranoia!

You know what the best course of action is when you find yourself struggling with sudden-onset nausea and lethargy and become increasingly paranoid that you have been infected with the dreaded Swiiiiiiiine Fluuuuuuu virus?

Kill it! Kill that virus!

Namely, with vodka and some olives.

On a related note: Why does having an end-of-the-week dirty Ketel One martini now always result in me spending the night passed out in some location other than my bed? More specifically: usually the couch, with the Food Network on. Sometimes, the living room floor wrapped in a comforter...with the Food Network on. 

Also, having said that: Why do I have so much goddamn energy this morning?* I was woken up in the wee early hours of the morning due to a phone call before 8am in the morning (on a Saturday, for f*ck's sake! Erm, RUDE!) on Schmoobles' phone from some drum corps person. F*cking drum corps people. Urgh. Which was enough to get me bounding out of bed couch to fix a gigantor mug of coffee and throw on some exercise clothing and go take BB for a pleasant morning jaunt outside while I drank said coffee. 

Note: Hey, you know what requires quite a bit of coordination? Holding a leash and a massive set of keys in one hand and a gigantor mug of coffee in the other, and then trying to pick up and bag a pile of BB turds off the ground. That's what. 

Anyway, off to continue this pleasant Saturday with a delicious soak in the hot tub. If the pool isn't frigid, maybe I can swim a lap or ten. 

* It's because I killed the Piggy virus with vodka. Doy.

*****

ETA: Went down and hot-tubbed. Then swam some laps (!!!) in quasi-frigid water. Then hot-tubbed some more. I now have water in my ears which makes me want to squeeze my skull to stop the throbbing. I also want to vomit due to the sudden increase in physical activity. But I feel FANTASTIC!