Pants, pants, PANTS!

Pack Up the Moving Vans!

2008-05-22T00:20:00.002-06:00

I'm moving to WordPress...update your rss feeds!

xoxo,

Pants

http://melliferouspants.wordpress.com/

Birth Control Curse

2008-05-19T23:41:00.001-06:00

Tonight over pizza and drinks with Megatropolis (thank you!), we discovered that we share a common dating problem: death of a relationship by birth control. It’s happened to me with my last two boyfriends. When I’m all “good,” ready to rock and roll on birth control, the relationship takes a nose dive.

Has anyone else had this problem? Surely Megatropolis and I aren’t the only two who’ve suffered from the birth control curse.

Another dating problem I’ve encountered: I’m ready to date, only I’m not ready to date here. I don’t want to date anyone in Utah (insert bitching about weird Utah dating scene), which is pretty fucking inconvenient, considering I’m officially a Utahrd.

Six Quirky Things Meme

2008-05-18T23:11:00.003-06:00

The lovely Sterkworks, aka Queen of Tongue-Ups, tagged me for a six quirky things meme. I think I may have done this meme before, but I'm too lazy too search for it and anyone who's read more than two sentences here realizes I have way more than six quirky things to share about myself...

1. I used to save credit card offers and return the pre-paid response envelopes full of Penny Saver ads and other junk mail. I may have even sent dirt and rocks at some point.

2. I HATE hard boiled eggs. When I was fifteen months old my parents took me hiking (riding along in a baby back pack) to natural sulfur springs. I don’t remember it but my folks tell me that I pitched a royal fit and babbled incessantly about how filthy the smell was. It’s the one childhood food aversion I haven’t grown out of.

3. Lately I have been have nightmares about shaving my legs. Believe me, when you sit down next to Matthew Fox in a casino and he reaches for you leg...you’d want it to be smooth, too.

4. When I was seven years old my mom’s hairdresser told me about reincarnation. It completely FREAKED me out. I refused to change in front of our male cat because I thought he was my dead grandpa.

5. Not only am I a member of Club Celibacy, I’m the president!

6. The vet said it’s time for my fat-ass cat to got on a diet...he’s 16 1/2 pounds. I must admit, I was shocked when I found out how much he weighed; I thought surely he would be at least 20 pounds.

Queen for a Day?

2008-05-13T21:42:00.002-06:00

Tonight my mother told a (very long) story about stress relief that ended with a woman receiving a feather boa and tiara.

“Hey Dad, am I going to come home and find you prancing around with a feather boa and tiara?”

“Who needs that when I have your mother’s underwear?”

(Laughter.)

“What? I only wear it when we’re horsing around.”

Mother’s Day Pedicure for My Sister

2008-05-11T23:20:00.001-06:00

“It’s not coming off.”

“You can’t ignore your feet and expect to buff off cracks all at once.”

“Yes I can.”

“No you can’t. It doesn’t work that way. You’re getting older. You gotta take care of your feet.”

“I don’t wanna get old like you.”

C is for cookie, that's good enough for me! Oh, cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C !

2008-05-09T14:29:00.002-06:00

Mom: What’s wrong?

Me: I went to Albertson’s, because they’re having this really super awesome sale on cereal. Ten boxes for ten dollars! And they were out of COOKIE CRISP! I am so mad.

(Laughter)

Mom (to Dad): Were you aware that we deprived our daughter of one of the joys of childhood by not allowing Cookie Crisp?

Dad: (More laughter) What do you mean you never had Cookie Crisp?

Me: I NEVER had Cookie Crisp! I never knew the delicious crunch of cookies in milk! I don’t know how I even managed to grow up without it!

Mom: They probably didn’t even have Cookie Crisp when you were a kid.

Me: No way! They totally had Cookie Crisp when I was a kid, Stephanie and her husband said so. Steph’s kids thought I was an alien when told them I’d never had Cookie Crisp. It’s like saying I’ve never had water.

Mom: What do you guys want for dinner? I’m making cornbread blueberry muffins right now, any dinner suggestions?

Me: DELICIOUS COOKIE CRISP!

Dad: (laughter)

Mom: Any reasonable suggestions?

Me: I think we should order pizza.

Mom: Or you’re going to die?

Me: Totally.

Mom (to Dad): Call it in!

Where’s My Mother Fucking American Zombie, SLC?!

2008-05-08T15:36:00.001-06:00

I’m doing my best to manage my anger with SLC theaters for not receiving American Zombie yet…

In the meantime, to distract myself from my zombie anger, I’m going to see Young@Heart.

Death by Girl Parts

2008-05-07T15:40:00.001-06:00

Mom: What’s wrong?

Me: My ovaries are trying to kill me!

Mom: Period?

Me: Yes.

Mom: Oh honey, your ovaries are just gearing up for babies.

Me: Gross!

Neow!

2008-05-06T11:21:00.002-06:00

While visiting my friend Stephanie this weekend Jack Jack cried for me the first night I was gone. Upon my return, I was really excited to see him. I went out on the back porch and cried, “Heeeeeere kitty, kitty, kitty! Jaaaack! Jaaaack! Where are you?!”

He popped his head up from the top of the yard, gave me a confused stoney look and jumped half-way to me before he remembered that he’s supposed to act like an uninterested cat. Kind of like when Danny Zuko sees Sandy at the bonfire in Grease and screams her name in a high pitched girl voice before he remembers he’s supposed to play it cool.

Jack Jack and I are back to normal now. He’s totally using my mani pedi supplies without asking. And my phone! (What a bitch!)

Overheard in a Mesquite Bingo Hall

2008-05-04T12:23:00.004-06:00

"I don't know what it is, but there's something about a recovering drug addict that's just sexy."

"Those who write on shithouse walls,
Roll their shit in little balls,
And those who read those shithouse wits,
Eat them little balls of shit."

"Spider spider on the wall,
Ain't you got no sense at all,
Can't you see the walls been plastered,
Get off the wall you dirty...spider."

"Yeah, I saw your Golden Girl necklace. I had a picture of them in the bathroom as a kid. My parents were always harassing me when I was in the bathroom with those sexy ladies and I'd be all, 'I'll be out in a minute MOM! I'm brushing my hair!'"

"God dammit! The next bitch that calls bingo is getting punched in the babymaker!"

"My fart just sounded like a firecracker!"

Steph and Liza made fun of me when I excitedly ordered my "Waffle of Fortune!" But damn it was good!

I may not have been fortunate in bingo but I was fortunate on the slot machines...I won back all the money I'd spent on bingo and slots. It paid for my night and a little bit more. That's good enough for me!

Nanny, Nanny! Nanny Nanny Boo Boo!

2008-05-02T10:31:00.002-06:00

“Guess where I’m going this weekend?”

“Stephanie’s.”

“Yup, but guess where we’re going.”

“Hiking?”

“In-n-Out! In-n-Out! That’s what a hambuuuurger is, all about!”

“What?! How?! Are you guys going to Vegas?”

“Nope. In-n-Out just opened in St. George.”

“Can I come?”

“Nuh uh! Sorry no moms allowed. Well, no moms that aren’t Stephanie allowed. I guess that means no grandmas.”

The Things We Do For Love

2008-05-01T18:09:00.002-06:00

The buckle on my new Keds is eating my foot alive but they're so cute it's totally worth the destruction of my feet.

Tidbit

2008-04-30T16:01:00.001-06:00

Just because you take a muscle relaxant and you feel like a noodle, doesn’t make it OK to tell your mother about the guy you dated who only had one ball. And the silence following your disclosure does not get more comfortable when you babble incessantly about the one-baller.

December 21, 2012

2008-04-29T11:13:00.003-06:00

The Mayan calendar abruptly ends in 2012. Some people think this will be the second coming of Jesus Christ (phhshaw!), the end of the world, or a new theory I heard today…maybe the Mayans grew tired of writing continuous dates? You know, they got bored because they didn’t have video games, the internet and porn to keep them occupied and shit.

I used to feel very uneasy about the potential end of the world. My old thoughts went something like this…

Shit! I’m not married! Crap! I don’t have kids yet! I’m not through with school yet! Wait a minute…if the world is ending, why am I in school?

I have decided to think of December 21, 2012 as the end of the world as we know it (thanks R.E.M.!), not the literal ending of the world. So maybe I won’t have to pay my student loans off, if the financial systems and structures of life as we know it crumble. And if I’m wrong, at least I’m doing something I enjoy in the mean time.

Also, finals are my mother fucking bitch! I totally made them say my name.

Somebody’s Got a Case of the Mondays

2008-04-28T15:14:00.002-06:00

Tu'pence: You’re back.

Me: Yuppers.

Tu'pence: I thought you went home.

Me: I fucking wish.

Tu'pence: Does that help with wishing?

In other exciting news...I dreamed that I missed my final tonight because I went to an ex-boyfriend’s house so he could dump my ass a second time. WTF?! I woke up guilt ridden for missing my final and allowing myself to be dumped AGAIN. Which is pretty silly, considering neither of those things happened. Stupid fucking dreams.

Also, I haven’t been responding to comments like I normally do because I am being eaten alive by school…and ridiculous dreams.

Finals Are For Bitches

2008-04-27T15:48:00.002-06:00

One last fucking paper for my racist, no-example-giving, professor. UGH.

BRUNCH!

2008-04-26T11:13:00.001-06:00

Holy fucking yum-o!

I’m Fine, How Are You?

2008-04-24T11:25:00.001-06:00

When asked to write a paper about a subject that fascinates you, a subject that you’ve always wondered about, is it appropriate to choose the founder of your religion?

Am I overly sensitive? Is it normal to give an oral presentation on the awesomeness of Joseph Smith, with information easily gleaned from your church library? (I could have given that presentation on Joseph Smith and I haven’t been an active member for more than thirteen years.)

Hearing about how incredible Joe Smith was makes me wish I chose a subject more controversial than nature conservation. I wish I had written about FLDS polygamous sects and how the principles they practice are in line with what Joseph Smith taught. That he implemented a structure of male superiority that has encouraged and harmed generations of women and children, all because of his visions and prophesies.

Bleah.

Owner of a Lonely Heart, Owner of a Broken Heart

2008-04-22T11:42:00.003-06:00

I have been on two go-sees since the dissolution of what I’d thought was a relationship; I now realize that I can’t handle disappointment. The thought of meeting another person I have zero chemistry with makes me cry inside; especially when the person I had such FANTASTIC chemistry with chose not to be with me. I can’t help but think, “What did I do wrong?” Countless conversations with myself and friends have confirmed that I did not do anything wrong.

Faced with the prospect of superfluous quality time with my cat and Lifetime Television, I have devised the ultimate broken hearted girl’s survival guide.

Get your lonely heart a gay boyfriend. Stat!
Meet him for coffee and let him buy you a slice of mocha, meringue, chocolate cake. Listen to him say things like, “I can’t eat that because I’ll get fat but I totally want to watch you eat it. Yes, REALLY!”
Be ready for more...”The best thing you’ve ever eaten? EAT. SLOWER.”
Laugh, laugh, then laugh some more. Damn he’s fucking fun to be with.
Agree to go to stop by the gay bar for “just one drink” even if you’re wearing a prudish shirt and rubber soled Hush Puppy loafers with socks.
Don’t let that prudish shirt and rubber soled Hush Puppy loafers with socks stop you from having a good time.
Allow your gay boyfriend to introduce you to his fabulous little friend (who for the remainder of the list we will call Pretty Young Thang, aka PYT).
Resist the urge to tell questioning bar patrons that your gay boyfriend is your fiance when they ask if you two are a couple. Unless you see him mouth, “Yuck. TOO OLD.” Then the gloves are off.
Hold hands with PYT, allow him to pull you through the crowded dance floor, turn around and holler above the music, “Damn girl. I hope you don’t mind me saying so but your boobs are huge!”
Giggle and laugh when PYT grabs a handful of your boobs, especially since he’s the only guy who will be grabbing your boobs for some time. Unless you count your cat spooning you as male contact.
Let that smile continue to build when a handful of pretty men on the patio compliment your ass. If there’s a place to get an honest assessment of your ba-donka-dunk, it’s just before last call at the gay bar. That much liquor and god knows what pills...they couldn’t lie if they wanted to.
Enjoy how much better gay men smell than straight dudes. This is what heaven smells like.
Allow PYT to take you by the hand when you’re scared to use the bathroom alone because of the insanely large crowd of people who are waiting in line and staring at the numerous pairs of feet in the occupied stalls.
Politely decline your PYT’s offer to go pee in the same stall together but offer to hold his Adios Motherfucker while he pees. Have a few sips of his cocktail, you’ll need liquid courage to urinate under these conditions.
Swing your feet back and forth, smiling when PYT tells you that you don’t look thirty-two.
When PYT asks how old you think he is, reply “twenty-two.” Watch him continue to throw an over exaggerated fit and scream, “TWENTY-TWO?! Seriously? What’s wrong with nineteen? I WANT TO BE IN MY TEENS! TEENS! Huh? Oh yeah, I’m twenty-three.”
Explain the details of your most recent break up, when prompted. Gloat when PYT freaks out and exclaims, “Who would dump you?! Oh no honey, we're gonna find you a real man.”
Beam when your mention of Golden Girls is met with mutual love and adoration of those around you.
Continue smiling when PYT says, “I like you. I get a good aura from you.” and waves his hands around your head in a circle.
Follow PYT across the dance floor, take you by the hand and pull you onto the stage, then maul you like a hot little escort to a dance mix of Paula Abdul’s shitty new song and only wish it were “Opposites Attract” for 10% of your stage time.

Dang, Fetch, Oh My Heck, What the Holy Scrud?

2008-04-22T00:51:00.005-06:00

I just finished typing a rough draft of my “wonder” paper (whatever the fuck ever that is), stapled the prerequisite three copies together for tomorrow’s peering and realized I neglected to reference essays assigned by my racist, no-example-giving, professor.

Thank god for Milli Vanilli!

En Route to Modest Clothing Tent Sale

2008-04-20T21:12:00.002-06:00

Me: Is that BYU?

Sister: Yeah.

Me: (Rolls down window, grabs boobs.) Hey BYU, I’m touching my boobs. In your face Honor Code!

1 1/2 year old niece (from back seat): Boobies? Booby! Booooooobies! Booby! BOOBY! BOOOOOOOBIES!

Thank You For Being a Friend

2008-04-18T09:47:00.006-06:00

I’ve mentioned once or twice, or one hundred times, that I spend a lot of time with my cat. He helped me find this super awesome necklace on Etsy on Saturday night while we were watching the world premiere of a Lifetime movie. Yes, we planned our weekend around a Lifetime movie. Yes, my cat and I are a “we.” A girl has to keep her priorities in check! I have dreams of becoming the Dooce of Cat Blogs.

Then my new almost-real-friend suggested we meet up for a drink so we can become friends for realsies. He is aware that I currently have a strict no dating rule in effect, so he proposed we keep conversation strictly to which Golden Girl we’d sleep with, kill, or marry. I have a theory developed about this but can’t write about it publicly until the almost-real-friend and I iron out the details after he’s tricked me into a date disguised as a non-date-friend date.

The gloves are off. I am officially obsessed. I found myself singing the Golden Girls theme song for the better part of yesterday. And I sort of spent an unhealthy amount of time searching youtube for Golden Girls video clips.

Things I Have In Common With the Golden Girls

We all have vaginas.
I said this exact phrase to my sister today!
They’re living my dream! I plan to spend my twilight years in the company of my BFF and her sister.
They live someplace without a hideous winter. Someday, I hope to live someplace without a hideous winter!
I’m not afraid to buy condoms (not that I need condoms, since rejoining Club Celibacy) but I had something similar happen to me once buying a six-pack of beer and some KY. Good to know I’m not the only one, thank you Golden Girls. Thank you for being my friend!

Confession: the Golden Girls them song once made me cry.

Thank you for being a friend
Traveled down the road and back again
Your heart is true you’re a pal and a confidant.

And if you through a party
Invited everyone you ever knew
You would see the biggest gift would be from me
And the card attached would say thank you for being a friend.

Also, I think this song would make the best karaoke song ever.

Freezing Cold Temperatures Reported in Hell!

2008-04-16T22:43:00.006-06:00

Reasons I am happy to live in Utah.

1. I get to see my sister almost every day. I love being so close to her.

2. It’s almost impossible to be sad around my niece. I love her to pieces. Her squeals melt my cold, black heart. Especially her new goat sound that is suspiciously similar to a Wookiee cry.

3. Tonight my dad made spaghetti for dinner while I crafted up vanilla ice cream with chunks of homemade chocolate chip cookie dough (weird, my pants all seem to have shrunk), followed by Law & Order.

4. My mom fucking rules. She’s always full of interesting ideas...whether it’s a new bead, craft project or or burning a flag because it’s “the respectful thing to do.” I will never forget my thirty-second birthday.

5. I will not have a conversation with any of my nieces like the conversation my uncle and I had last year when he shared regretting not making more time for his father when he was alive.

6. I am driving distance from my friend Stephanie. We’ve been friends for twenty years and marvel at our ability to pick up where we left off after being out of touch for long amounts of time...but have decided to the ability to pick up where we left off doesn’t make it OK to lose touch anymore. I only wish we lived a teensy bit closer to each other. I’ve been really lonely for her since our Easter weekend extravaganza with our other BFF, Zanny (who I also miss, but is not falling for my suggestions she move to Utah).

7. My Grandma Honey and Grandpa. Ghoney made an incredible recovery from a very scary illness. I appreciate and love being with her.

8. I get to see former Utahn friends when they come to Zion!

9. I am making new friends that are fucking awesome. Some of them even wear bikinis when drunk: hubba hubba!

10. Getting my learn on.

11. Inadvertently stealing the love and affection of Jack Jack from my mom.

12. Horrible LDS billboards...whether creepy Mormon movies or modest clothing stores (choking back vomit), provide material for endless sarcastic banter.

Short list of downsides so this post doesn’t get overly fucking schmoopy.

1. Too many California friends to name.
2. Landlocked, RED STATE.
3. No Sephora! Which I did not realize until I was already living here. I grieve my loss of sparkly makeup heaven every Sunday morning when I receive my weekly email.
4. The Utah climate is turning me into a leper. Lucky for me my mother crochets leper bandages, so I’m all set.

Utah Snow is a Four Letter Word

2008-04-16T09:44:00.004-06:00

Dear Mother Nature,

This weather is bullshit. Yesterday’s drive home pissed me off. Please, please, PLEASE! Stop being such a fucking whore. I am ready to hate the next season Utah has to offer.

Love,

Me

The Cat Formerly Known As My Mother’s

2008-04-14T22:31:00.009-06:00

Jack Jack is so interested in everything I do; he likes me, he really likes me! I am considering submitting this group of incredibly awesome, high quality, barely pathetic self-portrait + cat series photos to an art gallery. Any title suggestions? So far I’ve come up with...

A Thirty-Something and Her Cat
Not So Lonely After All
Algebra: Not Just For Humans
My Cat is Better Than Your Human Baby

The next step is for us to have photographs taken at Olan Mills. Which, curiously, I’ve decided is my dream date! Though my dream date will be with a human, not a feline. (I hope.)

1. Begin with shopping trip to D.I. (Mormon Goodwill) for some fine-ass new clothes.
2. Rush off to a portrait sitting at Olan Mills (or comparable photo studio).
3. Walk through Temple Square holding hands and sipping from the same flask.
4. Frozen yogurt.
5. Make out in remote, picturesque, area where teenagers (or thirty-something women who move home) escape their parents.

Though I realize this would be more satisfying (and likely) with my BFF, Stephanie. Hopefully we can do this at the end of the month when I go to visit! I know her husband wouldn’t object...he likes me and he hardly likes anybody (SCORE ME!).