Women Are ANIMALS!

I just returned from the launch of Roberto Cavalli's line for H & M. It was NUCKING FUTS! I've had the launch marked on my calendar for at least 6 months. I mean, like in my work Outlook with a reminder. And in my phone (just like when Louboutin came to OC on 10/13.) And on my wall calendar (I'm old school…I still buy those.) I moved jobs 3 months ago, added it to the new Outlook. Woke up Tuesday morning in a cold sweat because I dreamt that I missed the launch. It was THAT effing serious. And I've had my eye on one particular item. It's this gorgeous flowing chiffon leopard-print gown. I could picture myself in it. I'd walk into an event wearing that dress and angels would start singing (*cue fans & smoke machine*). Just kidding…but I wanted that dress pretty effing bad.

I planned my attack. I called around to H & M stores yesterday to find out who was carrying the line and what time they'd open today. I discovered that there was only ONE effing store in all of O.C. carrying the line. And it's this little tiny store at South Coast Plaza just across from Bloomies. Already I'm mentally prepared to bumrush that spot with my cat-like reflexes, grabbing dresses and high stepping broads like the dude on the Heisman Trophy, just before doing a tuck and roll & landing on my feet in line. But alas, my dreams were crushed at 10:38 a.m. this morning. The store opened at 10:00. People had been in line since 4:00 am!!!! As I pulled up in the parking lot, I saw women coming out of the mall with bags & bags...and bags. NEVER a good sign.

When I practically power-walked into the mall & when I entered H & M it was a madhouse. The only clothing left was that on the mannequins (which, BTW was not for sale!!!!!!!!!!) !!!!! Sorry, needed more exclamation marks for that one. Women were clutching piles of dresses, scarves, jeans, bras, jewelry ANYTHING Cavalli, not giving a damn about sizes or anything. One lady was guarding a pile of Cavalli in a corner. She looked like she might be able to throw down so I didn't test her. So here I am with a few other late birds (AKA "folks with jobs") stuck with nothing. My first instinct was to turn around and leave but I'd waited so long for this day I thought I'd stick it out in the "Go Back" line.

The "Go Back" line is comprised of people who are waiting for others to go in and try on Cavalli and if the clothes don't fit, they go back to the floor. I mean, desperation times 50! I can't remember when I last felt so desperate and pitiful. I'm waiting in a line hoping that someone will try something on, not like it, and it would also happen to be something that I'd want…and that fits me. But I waited, and waited…and waited. No one tried on shit! Well, one chick was trying on a zebra print mini that some French lady had been STALKING around the store. She stood watch outside of her dressing room a said in her French accent "If theese do not feeet her, she give to meee!" Then Frenchie proceeds to bump my purse about 20 times while peeking around the corner trying to see if the girl was coming out of the dressing room. I finally had to tell her to back up off me. Another chick was trying on practically the entire line (including my leopard dress! Argh! Didn't even look cute on her! Flat booty heffa!) but she held on to everything. With her pussified husband in tow (who was going around with the things that she didn't want, but instead of sending them to go backs was using them to bargain with others in the store.) Yes, HE was exchanging things with other women. "I'll give you this jacket for that dress." I heard him say that. Like Strangé said "Puuuuuuuss-puuuuuss-puuuuuuss!"

After waiting in the GBL for about 20 minutes, I saw from across the sea of bad hair extensions and even worse breast implants a sight to behold. A guy carrying a big black crate full of…Cavalli leggings! I told my new little go back line friend to stay put, hold my spot and I'd go score us some leggings. I got to the tables just as he was dumping out the container and managed to have my pick of sizes. And then…a stampede of women rushed me! I almost lost my life y'all! But I made it out unscathed and with 5 pair of Cavalli leggings. Yay! I took 2 pair back to my little GBL friend and kept 2 for myself. I was going to toss the 5th pair to the lions when I saw another pitiful soul with empty hands (*cue violin*) and gave them to her instead. A little fashion "pay it forward", right? I got right in line to purchase my tights and a girl in front of me gave me a pair of black, white and grey leopard print jeans (score!) So happy now! I didn't get my "angels singing" dress, but I did come out of it with something. Here's the dress. Tell this wouldn't be BANGIN' on Ms. Fox.

This is the 2nd time this week Roberto broke my heart. See this 5" stiletto???!!! 

Sigh…

Faux Pas!

Current mood: amused

Yesterday I made THE ULTIMATE faux pas…

In the morning as I was heading out the door for work, I couldn't decide on footwear. I was wearing a cute new dress in fall colors & wasn't sure if I should wear my usual open toed 4" brown Marc Jacob sandals or luggage brown Marc Jacob boots. So, I tried a boot on one foot and a heel on the other and checked myself out in the mirror. The sandals looked better. So, I ditched the boot and ran out the door.

Fast forward: Just before noon, I got a call from the receptionist that a package had just been delivered for me. It was the Dior saddle that I'd purchased on Ebay. I excitedly ran to the front desk to get it & when I opened it, my heart sank. It screamed knockoff! So, I called my girl Tara at Dior and she told me to come on down for a inspection.

As I'm pulling up to South Coast Plaza, I'm checking myself out in the mirror to make sure I'm presentable (after all, I'd have to walk between Chanel & Hermes to get to Dior which is adjacent to Escada & Cavalli!) The sun hit my left leg & I glanced down & noticed…..I HAD AN ASHY LEG!!!! Yes, me…Ms. Palmer's Cocoa Butter had ONE ashy leg! So, I ran back through my morning toilette in my mind. I remembered getting out of the shower & sitting on the bed & lotioning my legs. So, how the hell could I have ONE ashy leg? It was ashy from just below the knew down to the toes. Like SUPER EXTRA ashy. Like National Geographic ashy. Then it dawned on me…it was that damned boot! So now I'm driving through SCP's parking lot with one hand on the steering wheel and the other frantically digging around in the glove box & center console trying to find my emergency lotion. I couldn't find it anywhere. Damnit…I took it out of the car last week! It was really hot one day & I was afraid it would leak. So, I had no choice but to go into Dior with my now confirmed knockoff and ONE ashy leg.

I was a haute mess…

Cops

I just finished watching an episode of my favorite reality T.V. show...Cops. ("Huh! Bad boys! Whatchu gun, whatchu gonna do!") Damn, Inner Circle made out like bandits with that one didn't they?! Here's a little known factoid about moi. I have a relative who was on Cops. This was a proud moment in my family's history, let me tell you!!! I was in high school, but man do I remember this like it was yesterday! A close friend of the family called to say that he saw my uncle on Cops. The family friend lives out of town and caught an earlier broadcasting of the episode so we were able to make the calls and gather around the T.V. in time to watch the spectacle. Cops San Diego - the officers got called out to a domestic dispute. They arrive at the house and my uncle answers the door. The officers told him that the neighbors called because there was a disturbance. He's calm and swears there's no problem. His wife comes to the door and says everything is ok. The cops leave, but not before warning him that if they get called back out he's going to jail. Fast forward to a few hours later. The cops are called AGAIN. The neighbors say they're really going at it this time. So, the officers show up and knock on the door. And my uncle answers the door...COVERED IN FLOUR! And jelly...and eggs...and ketchup. Yeah...take that one in for a minute...speaking in a normal voice like there's no problem. "Hello officers, lovely day isn't it?"So, the camera crew comes in and the kitchen is wrecked (you know they weren't going to pass this one up!) There isn't a surface that isn't covered in food. Talk about bad aim! Cupboards, counter tops, floors, walls covered. I mean, if this scene was in a movie, you'd say "they went way overboard with that shit. There's no way anyone having a real food fight would cover EVERY surface in the kitchen!" Yeah, like that. Here's the funny part though (yeah, funnier...imagine that.) None of us had been in contact with this uncle in months...maybe even longer. They take him away in the police car covered in jelly & shit. As God is my witness, I swear no sooner than the episode ended he calls to ask for money because he has a court date in San Diego Monday and he needed to take the train down there (they'd moved out of town after the little incident.) This fool didn't realize that we'd all just watched the entire thing play out on T.V. and he tried to lie about it. I think he said he had to go to traffic court or some shit. Dumbass...

Ok, one more thing though about Cops. What is it with the people all effed up on PCP? These dudes are identical. Big tall muscular black dude, butt naked, dripping with sweat, big buggy eyes repeating some random shit. Usually running down the middle of the street, often bleeding. Big ass mosaic covering his parts. Busting through fences and brick walls. Sometimes he'll get up on the roof or go into a crawl space and they have to drag his ass out. And his mama is there in her house coat begging him to stop and still, it's hopeless. It takes about 10 officers to get this guy subdued but not before he busts through a pair of handcuffs! What on earth would EVER make anyone want to try PCP? Are they curious to know what it feels like to have super human strength? To bust through a window head first and be unphased by it? To get shot and still keep running full speed? It has to make you feel real hot too, because PCP and nudity are synonymous. It's hardly a recreational drug. I don't think dudes sit around with the homies smoking PCP (or however you ingest it.) And these guys always have such ripped bodies! They clearly go to the gym or have weights in the front yards or something. Seems like a conflict of interests to me. Dunno....

People

Monday, September 24, 2007

Let me start off by saying that I am TIRED…I got NO sleep last night! So I'm going to try my best not to rant…too much.

One of the things that I was taught in elementary school that has stuck in my mind now for 20+ years is The Golden Rule…"Do unto others as you would have others do unto you." I remember in 2nd or 3rd grade our teacher made a huge deal about The Golden Rule. I mean, we spent like a whole week on it (or maybe it was just an hour or two, but that shit seemed like forever.) My school was huge on teaching us how to be good citizens. We even had "Citizen of the Week" in our class, assigned to 1 boy and 1 girl who were the best little helpers or whatever for the week. It was never clear what the criteria was for selecting "Citizen of the Week", and it always seemed that the same kids were picked week after week. So, the rest of us pretty much felt like we were shitty citizens when we weren't picked…but that's a different story. Anyway, our teacher gave us examples of how to apply The Golden Rule, and we in turn regurgitated this information and it in turn drove our parents ape shit. But the lesson was an important one nonetheless – always treat others the way you'd want them to treat you. Any way you slice it, that's not such a bad thing to teach little impressionable kiddies. I must say though…I'm pretty convinced that this rule wasn't taught to everyone outside of Irvine Unified School District. People are so inconsiderate that it's comical at times.

Example, I was at Target yesterday. It was Sunday; the new mailer just came out…I guess I had a death wish. But I had to grab some essentials so I had no choice but to brave the crowds. I pulled into the parking lot and it was PACKED. Kids are darting in and out between cars, big vans are taking up two spots & everyone and their abuelita was there. The parking gods were with me though because there was a spot right up front! As I pull into it, I notice that there's a shopping cart in the spot. I shit you not, 2 spaces to my left was the little shopping cart corral. Some lazy bastard just left the cart there in the ONLY open space within 100 feet of the door instead of walking 15 feet to park the damn thing with all of the other carts. And I look up to see a woman across the parking lot taking her ONE BAG out of her cart and parking the cart BEHIND the car parked next to her, before getting into her car and driving off. So, when this other person comes out of the store he won't be able to back his car out of his spot without first finding a place for the cart that old lazy ass left for him to move. I'm watching this lady carefully park the cart behind someone else's car, parallel to their bumper. I mean, she was careful…making sure it didn't roll out into traffic. What's the difference in that and just saying eff it and shoving the fuckin cart out into the middle of the road?! (That would have been very entertaining to watch!) So, when this guy comes out of the store he is now faced with having to return his cart as well as the cart of this lazy heffa?! Amazing…

People are assholes. I mean, not every single person in this world…but on a grand scale…as a whole…people are assholes. I'd say maybe 50% of people in the world are assholes. Walk through your office & count the assholes and tell me I'm wrong. Go…right now. I'll wait...

What'd you get? 50%? Maybe 60%? See, told you!!!

People are selfish, rude and inconsiderate. They let elevators close in your face, talk on cell phones in the movie theater, put calls on speaker when they could just as easily pick up the receiver and spare us the noise, and they don't wipe their sweat off of gym equipment. They sneeze/cough without covering their mouths, they don't hold doors open when they see that your hands are full, they take the tops off of muffins and leave the bottom part for someone else, they cut you off on the road and then give YOU the finger, steal parking spots you've been waiting on for 10 minutes, and don't call you back when they say they will. Oh, and my new favorite…they stand you up for dates (LOVE that!!!) And these same people piss and moan when bad shit happens to them (and they can't seem to figure out why!) I'm ranting, but there is a point to it. If you don't already do this, please try. Try to put yourself in the shoes of other people. The world would be such a better place if everyone did. I mean, seriously. If you see someone drop their papers and shit is flying all over the parking lot, stop to help them. It's what…30 seconds out of your life? If that 30 seconds is going to make you late to wherever you're headed, your ass was going to be late any damn way. If you flake on someone, apologize for it the next time you talk to them. A sincere apology…not some old bullshit. You'd want them to do the same for you, wouldn't you? If you just answered no, you're one of the 50%-60% I was just referring to and I encourage you to never procreate. You never know though…you might need that person for something one day and they'll be less inclined to lend you a hand. Everything you put out into the universe both good and bad comes back to you. If you're a considerate person, that will come back to you. If you're inconsiderate and disregard others, that will come back to you as well…asshole.

Stinky Food

Monday, September 17, 2007

Why do people insist upon eating stinky food at their desks? These people are inconsiderate martyrs who want to make it a point that they're just sooooo busy or soooo dedicated that they barely have time to eat lunch and certainly don't have 10 free minutes to step away from their desks to eat the stinky leftovers that they brought from home in a designated dining area. There's a guy in my office who eats…I don't know what the eff it is…some kind of stinky, pungent concoction EVERY single day. I feel kind of sorry for him because it's clear to me that this is the only dish his wife knows how to make and it's the SAME thing every day. Unless, of course she makes a variety of different dishes that just happen to smell the same way. It's inexplicable really…almost like a curried something with chili peppers, onions, and garlic. It hits your nostrils the way the aromas of an Indian Sweet Shop do the first time you walk into one. Kind of slaps you in the face like a Tandoori and Nag Champa diaper mixed with body funk. Anyway, I was running down the hall to the copier this morning, hair freshly pressed blowing behind me and I ran passed Mr. Stinky's desk. The pungent aroma assaulted my nostrils and I whipped my head around, causing my hair to stick to my MAC glossed lips. I made this "what the fuck?!" half angry/half confused FULLY violated look staring at the back of his head and my cube neighbor caught me in mid glare and began laughing out loud hysterically. The laughter snapped me back into reality, thank God! I think my expression pretty much summed up how he and others within a 50 foot radius were feeling. I mean, ok so the curry Tandoori/Vindaloo onion whatever-the-fuck smells good to YOU. Great! But come on…no one wants to smell that shit at 10:00 on a Monday morning!!!! I'm sure his wife opened a window or two while making it for dinner. In an interior office we don't have the luxury of opening a window. That funk will linger until tomorrow when he brings more in. PEOPLE! If you work in an office and you're sooooo busy that the future of the company is riding on your shoulders and if you take 10 minutes to step away from your desk to eat, the walls of Jericho will come tumbling down then PLEASE for fucksake don't eat any of the following at your desk:
1.) Indian Food
2.) Mexican Food
3.) Chitterlings or Greens (the vinegar smell in the greens will get you slapped.)
4.) ANY Fish/Seafood (NO clam chowder. New England…Manhattan…doesn't matter. I don't care if it is in a bread bowl. It's fish soup! Cold tuna salad is ok; hot ass tuna melt – not ok)
5.) Italian Food
6.) Carribean Food
7.) Pad Thai or any other Thai dish
8.) Basically anything hot and spicy that was warmed in the microwave before bringing it to your desk.

I love many of the foods mentioned above (except chittlerlings…I'm from Orange County!) but just because I love them doesn't mean the person next to me loves them. Be considerate of your neighbors. Someday when you're big and important and get an office with A DOOR, you can bring in a pig on a spit for all I care. But until then…sandwiches are for the desk, Tandoori is for the kitchen. NO EXCEPTIONS!

Smooches!

P-U

Monday, September 10, 2007
Current mood: aggravated

Why do so many old women wear the same stinky perfume? Do women get to a certain age & suddenly stop liking perfume that actually smells good? As we get older does our perception of what smells good & what doesn't change? There's this certain old lady perfume smell that you never smell on younger women. It's kind of musky & spicy. WHO manufactures that stinky mess and where do you go to buy it? Mervyn's or Sears perhaps??? Or maybe Rite-Aid. I bet they sell it in a gift set year 'round. You probably get a talc powder and little wrist watch or picture frame with it. How do you hear about it? Do you smell it on another old lady and exclaim "Gladys! That perfume is FABULOUS! Who makes it? I simply must have it for myself!" There's a woman in my office who keeps walking by my cube and she's wearing Eau de Granny and it's violating my sinuses right now…and it lingers...like Pigpen's funk cloud. Damn, I wish I had a sinus infection right now…

Sweat

Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Current mood: aggravated
I went out Saturday night to celebrate a childhood friend's 33rd b-day. I was at this club in Long Beach that was so crowded, seriously the fire marshall should have been called. If you were just standing around you were sweating, that's how hot this place was. I really wanted to get my groove on but didn't want to catch the vapors so I decided that the happy medium was to be near the dance floor, not on it. So, as soon as some wack ass T-Pain song came on, a few girls in too-tight jeans jumped up a' la "that's my jaaaaam!" So, I swooped in like a seagull and managed to secure a now vacant seat. I situated myself on one of the bar stools near the dance floor and placed my hands on my thighs, palms down (I'm trying not to cross my arms as much; it's supposed to send a message that you're standoffish, unapproachable, blah blah blah...) In my peripheral, I see this sweaty little dark figure in a Bill Cosby sweater wiping his face with his hands and walking away from the dance floor. I start watching the T-Pain girls (**how do they know this song? I've never heard it in my entire life…look at them! Oh, this is a hot mess. Why does T-Pain use that damn voice thing on every song?!**) I was so focused on the ghetto girls & the ghetto Roger, that I did not realize that the dark figure was entering my personal space. I turned...just as he grabs my hands! And his hands were SOAKING wet with warm sweat! I grimaced, shrieked, snatched my hands back, and immediately wiped them off!!!

Dark Figure: Hey baby, you wanna dance?
Me: GROSS!!!! You just put your sweaty hands on me!
Dark Figure: Aw baby, ain't nothing wrong with a little sweat! You sittin' there lookin' all fine & stuff, you need to sweat too.
Me: Yes there is something wrong with sweat!
Dark Figure: Naw, ain't nothing wrong with sweat.
Me: Yes there is, there's something wrong with YOUR sweat! On ME!

He kept mumbling, but my ADD kicked in, so I tuned his frequency out. GROSS! Sweat = toxins leaving your body. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a germaphobe. I avoid shaking hands at all costs and if I touch a door knob, my mind won't rest until I get to some soap & water. Maybe I should have peed on him and said "hey baby, ain't nothing wrong with a little golden shower!"