Rule Breaking Noob

Tonight I broke a new rule, with only minor anxiety and sweatiness. Get ready for it...

I did not put on my seat belt on my airline flight. 

At all. 

Home skillet next to me was just playing Family Feud on his iPad with such alarming agility I couldn't bring myself to ask him to lift his ass and hand over my other half. I did flop the free end over my lap to deter the stewardess in her rounds. Then I sat back and managed to peacefully ride without one iota of thought (read: 5,000 nervous glances to the fasten seat belt light) about my potentially precarious position. 

Rule. Breaker. Next stop BAMFdom.

This is actually huge for me. I don't go outside the lines.

This is closer to me on a plane: 

Yes ma'am, I will do exactly as told, regardless of dumbassability.

As I have posted before, things like couch-forts (forts, not farts, which can also be baffling in the living room) in the living room or eating ice cream for breakfast totally blow my skirt up. 

I actually had a very funny pilot on what must have been a Southwest flight, bc only they allow humor, who came on after we touched down to announce that 16 people did not have their seatbelts on, according to what was likely a made up tracker. He told us not to look around for the culprits because it would make our neighbors uncomfy. He then informed us of a fun fact: in the history of the TSA, no passenger has ever beat their plane to the gate. Maybe not, but I sure skirted the lines of death tonight, broke all your crazy rules and lived to blog about it you sneaky bastards.

Update: the liberation stopped on my second segment. Seatbelt snuggly fastened and unbudgey on flight #2. 

I hate water.

I hate water.

I hate it. I realize it's like 85% of your body, it's good for your skin, it makes your pee clear and less stinky, and it is for the most part the only way to survive. But I hate it. I mainly exist on nothing but coffee and wine. I understand that drinking water minimizes the post-wine purple lips in the morning. I understand that it will make my eyes less puffy and keep my liver more happy. But I'm not that vain so I'm actually judging you for thinking that.

I just can't bring myself to drink the stuff.

When I DO force myself to imbibe the tasteless, odorless, boring life juice, it has to be room temperature so I can chug it. I am definitely not going to sip the crap, so I need to be able to chug as much as possible before my brain takes back over and shuts the worthless "life saving" routine down.

I mean really, people are always whining about water weight. Guess what? No water = no weight! Tah dah! (Joking. The air diet is way more effective, duh.)

I have recently forced myself to drink enough La Croixs to get over the lack of delicious sugar, so that's been as close as I've been to a normal, functioning hydrator in a while. Seriously, if there was a Dehydration Anonymous club, I'd be so down to MC that little shindig.  And I'd serve coffee and beer. Both of which are made with water, I might add - they're just healthier options seeing as they're made from vegetables like hops and beans. I'm really doing myself a FAVOR.

If it doesn't do something to my mood, it feels like a total waste of my energy. Sleepiness is due to dehydration, you may say. Hence the coffee: sleepy no more. Body shutting down due to lack of my most basic needs, you may point out. Hence the wine: who cares?!

And the healthiest reason of all to be water free and proud- I pee less often, exposing myself to less public germs. Plus I'm supporting my economy. And I recycle. 

Proverbial win for mankind, I'd say. 

Do yourself a favor and drop the H2O for the Vino. You'll thank me in the morning, right after your skinny double macchiato.

Succulent should be a dirty word

Pinterest strikes again. This time in the vision of a succulent garden. I've been eyeing these adorable little glass spheres of unneedy greenery for over a year now... Never could find a reason to pull the trigger... But now in the bleak, bleakity bleakness of the Cincinnati winter I want some green in my life. And those fiddle leaf fern trees are just way the hell too expensive. Trendy trees are definitely something is never thought I'd be craving...

Mmmm figgy fern goodness

So yesterday I was running errands and headed to Home Depot. While waiting for my Cherry Cola paint selection for an accent wall I'm painting without permission in my apt, I wandered over to the plant section. The plant section in Ohio is approximately the size of a guest bathroom. Why? Because only garden assholes like me think they should be gardening when it's below zero outside. On that note I recently had a patch of grass delivered in more or less a pizza box for my puppy to poo in peace in. She wants nothing of it, and as such I now have a box o' turf on my porch, collecting snow...

Pre-porch... that would be a glass full of a random dog's yella snow.
Things get weird in Cincy.

I digress. I found some cute succulents. (What is a succubis? I know it's from some kiddy thing and I can't remember... But I want to say it every time I write succulent...) I then went to Michael's and found a mediocre glass bowl and some even more mediocre artsy fartsy pebbles and stones. I carried around a miniature dwarf in my basket for a hot minute until I remembered that I'm supposed to be hiding my Lord of the Rings affection from the public until my Frodo costume arrives for Comicon. Realizing the pebbles may not be enough, I bought some Spanish moss too. Which is absurd to have to pay for since I grew up with the stuff being a nuisance full of chiggers... Makes for great costume pubes though.

I got my goodies home and realized I'd made a whoopsie. Uh oh. They need dirt?! I've seen these things chilling in nothing but air! Clearly my green thumb and I are at a crossroads...

I know what you're thinking - they're going to let you procreate and care for a human at some point in the very distant future? But how human are babies, really? Much like a succulent they just need small amounts of food and daylight and someone to change their soil. See? I'm prepared.

After some prodding and digging and breaking of small plant arms, here's what I've got.

Pretty lame. I should've gotten a fish. And the gnome.

For added charm, I have been using a nettipot to water.  Straight from my nose to my little cacti friends.

Friday 5: Sh*t from My iPhone

Bought my animal a pricey ass new bed, since she about outgrew her old one.
She could give a rat's ass really enjoys watching it from afar.
Xmas stripes + plaid are way more in anyway, chevron was so Pinterest 2013

Enjoying a little Rum Chatta nightcap.
(my box of wine doesn't fit in our wine rack... shame)

As opposed to the repeat customers...
I pulled over to snap this, in the snow, and also to clean my windshield with a snowball.
Because that's how you roll in the Midwest.

A little "awwww" to warm your day: finally got to meet my faux-niece Emmeline after a great visit with her parents!

Met up with friends for dinner in Atlanta when I flew in on business.
They were superrr happy to see me.

Spotify might as well be sold in a dime bag

Some people use music to change their moods, and others use it to heighten whatever is their existing mood. I'm definitely a heightener. A glutton for self acknowledgement that whatever I'm feeling is totally justified. Nothing gets me going like geeking out on too much caffeine and then ensuring near heart attack by blasting some skrillex and playing a loaded game of doodle jump. 

Anxiety? Peaked. 

In a moment of teenage angsty depression, my freshman roommate found me in our dorm, lights out, naked in a towel, sobbing to some Colorblind a la that Ryan Phillepe movie where everyone slits their wrists in the end and he bangs his sister, Buffy. Gotta love it. 

I feel like my playlist should be used to push me over the edge into whatever psycho mental state I'm in at the moment. Gym time? Pop in (a term nobody but old farts like me will ever understand anymore) some MJ and let's sweat it out to some sweet molestation vibes. Jammin in the Caribbean? Obvi throw on the beach music and steel drums, which nobody actually listens to unless they're moments away from an inappropriate cornrow experience.

Totally seemed like a good move at Senor Frogs...

I do this with drinks in restaurants too. Sapporo and sake? NEVER ordered unless I'm eating sushi, then you might as well call me Sensei and wax me on down. Corona only in Mexican restaurants, and why the hell would you order a Red Stripe, unless it paired perfectly with your Jamaican jerk chicken? 

Is there such a thing as situational alcohol?