Oh Yeah and I finally got my Eyeshadow listed

Well, actually I listed it last weekend, but I guess I was too busy sleeping or something to tell you guys about it.

So hey its up now!

Got a convo yesterday from this nice lady with an awesome blog called Makeup Zombie. She was nice enough to feature me there today. So you should totally check it out.

Win A My Pretty Zombie Doll!

OMG....so here's some exciting news...I was interviewed by ZombieHoard!

I made this icky Zombie especially for this contest!

Her name is Emanuelle and she was inspired by this horrible 70's French vampire movie called Requiem for a Vampire.

So all you have to do to enter to win her is go to ZombieHoard's facebook fan page and answer this question:

"If Barbie was in the middle of a Zombie Apocalypse, which one of her Accessories would she use to kill Zombies?"

I mean, I know what I'd say, but I was way too anxious to get this Zombie out of my house. But you sure could use her in yours!

Paul won't let me do Blogathon

Well, that's not technically true, but he did threaten to move out.
So seems how I can't partake in all the hi jinks, you should help out my friend Erin with her efforts!
She will have to post a new blog entry every 30 minutes for 24 hours! And it's all for charity, so you can feel good about being kind to others and stuff.
She is the funniest person I know, has an awesome son named Chooch, a totally patient BF named Henry and one of the coolest shops on etsy.
She's giving away great incentives for your donations to make it even more worth your while.
Check out all the details here for how to donate, or at least cheer her on.
Here is a link to one of my very favorite posts of hers so you can see what you're in for.
"Bullying Chooch and Mommy Style"

hugs!

Home!

Well, being home is pretty awesome. Things are returning to normal as this picture of Lemon Domingo eating a barbie demonstrates.

Thanks everybody for following along on all our adventures! It really was fun for me to get to share the daily goings on of our road trip. Plus it kept Paul from being too evil too me because he knew I would blog about it.

Thanks also for forgiving my typos and spelling errors. I'm getting too old to proofread all that tiny print on my iphone.

One more day off and then I go back to work. Lots of barbie stuff to work on today if I can get the cat out of the way.

Any vacation/road trip stories that you would like to share?

hugs

Road Trip Day Five

July 9
Woke up every half an hour starting at 7:30. Paul finally woke up at 11:00. We went outside to smoke and he immediately started whining about not having coffee.

Him: maybe you could drive to starbucks
Me: and maybe I'll die driving in LA!

It's no secret that I hate driving. I do it as little as possible and pretty much to work and back. I never drive on the freeway. I didn't even get my license until I was 23. Driving to someplace I had never even seen in an unfamiliar town? Get the eff out.

But he was unrelenting. Maybe they were going to have booze and hookers delivered in my absence.

Me: But I can't even find it on my phone!
Him: Look I found it on my starbucks app (for real) here's the address.

So I glumly looked it up on my map. It was only 2 miles. It looked like I was going to have to go.
Shit.
I started memorizing the turns.
right on chandler
right on ethel
left on burbank
I could totally handle it right?

Paul gave me the keys and I pulled the seat up as far as it would go. I could literally see nothing out of the back window due to his overly dark pimp tint. My hands were super sweaty and I sat for way to long watching traffic looking for an opening that was large enough in my mind to cram the overly colossal car into (in reality, its a ford fusion, but it seems like a tank to me)

Pulled into traffic and stayed in the right lane (right on chandler) then turned at the light. Two more blocks and there was another light (right on ethel). One block up another light (left on burbank)
I started to breathe easier. Maybe I wasn't going to die after all. This wasn't so bad. I was feeling all proud of my bravado when I realized I didn't know what street the starbucks was on.
I had spent so much time memorizing the turns that I neglected to remember the actual address. Dumbass!
Well, how hard could it be? 2 miles right? It had to be around there somewhere. I tried bringing my map up on the phone while waiting at the light. "cannot find server". I really was going to die I was sure of it.
Waiting to turn right at the light. The name of the street sounded vaguely familiar. I think it was the name Paul told me the starbucks was on. I started scanning the street after waiting for a million teenagers to use the cross walk. I knew it was going to be on the right, but I couldn't find it anywhere. OMG I was lost in LA! I drove around the block and made right turns until I was on burbank again. Got my map up finally and saw the street and number. Waiting at the same crosswalk. I look to my right and the mothereffin starbucks is right on the corner! Goddamn. Had to wait for an old man in a golf cart(?WTF?) to cross the street. Pulled into the parking lot. I was so relieved.
Managed to get the coffee and make it back to Josh's house without incident and no accidents.
I didn't see any evidence of a hooker/booze party, but Paul had packed up all our crap. I thought we were getting ready to leave.
Then Paul mentioned that they wanted to "JAM" and Josh told me I could get in the pool if I wanted.
Hmm. I considered the options. It was a very nice pool and I couldn't remember the last time I was in one. I had bought a new swimsuit for the trip on the off chance I would find myself in a pool type situation. But there's the whole hair thing, and the tattoo thing and being the same color as paper thing. In the end I was like what the eff. I had brought a book with me that I had bought six months ago and hadn't had a chance to read. I had 50 spf. Ill just pile up the fake hair and doggy paddle around a bit.
So I changed and gathered up all my crap. The only thing I was missing was my gigantic hat that I wear anytime there's a chance of the sun touching me. The pool was cold as hell and took my breath away, but I managed to do a half ass lap to the end and back before sitting on the steps and reading my book. 10 minutes later and my pasty ass felt like it was on fire so I moved back to a lawn chair by the shade. I could hear the boys "JAMMING", but really only Josh's drums. Even then it was barely louder than someones car stereo. I drank my coffee and enjoyed feeling like I was on vacation.
Paul finally came out around three. He was ready to go. I stood up to go and change and felt a little woozy, but chalked it up to all the sun and stuff.
Said goodbye to Josh and started the long drive back home.
I started to feel really sick. I told Paul that I needed to eat something, but he "forgot". He lives on coffee and cigarettes alone so sometimes he forgets that normal humans need food in order to not die or throw up in his car.
Made him stop at a rest stop. It actually was relatively clean. Splashed cold water on my face until the urge to vomit subsided.
Back in the car, had a 7 up and choked down some crackers until we made it to a jack in the box.
I felt much better after eating and made Paul feel terrible about forgetting to feed me.
Drove for a few more hours and stopped to get gas in Coalinga. The smell of hot cow feces was overwhelming and seemed to cling to our clothes when we got back in the car after using the restroom. Paul referred to it as "Dungalinga" for the rest of the trip.
Finally felt well enough to blog for a bit. Played Tap fish, Zombie Farm, and Words with Friends.
Too dark to even stare out the window.
Half an hour from home and finally pulled off the freeway. I offered to drive the rest of the way home. Paul gave me a dirty look and threatened to punch me in my other kidney.
What?

Road trip day four

July 8
Woke up 10:30. Check out time is 11. I hate rushing to get ready. Especially with my pain in the ass (I mean fabulous) new hair. I decided to rock Pocahontas braids and just be done with it.
Got all our crap packed up and dragged out to the car. I was longing wistfully for the buffet which was a vice I picked up in Nashville. Paul was still full from his chili cheese omlette from the night before. Starbucks again. There was one in the hotel. Paul went on a rant about how non freestanding starbucks employees are the biggest dicks on the planet. He's always like that before coffee.
Went and sat outside in the boiling heat to drink our coffee and smoke. Found a modestly shady patch in the direct path of the bellboys and killed about 30 minutes.
Our plan was to see the bodies exhibit and then head back to LA to stay another night at Josh's.
I still had a $20 voucher from the night before that I wanted to lose in a $1 slot machine. Took about 35 seconds.
Went upstairs to see the bodies. No photography, of course, but they did take your picture in front of a green screen before you went in. In my mind I was imagining all the fabulous scenes that they could put behind us. Buildings on fire getting chased by people with no skin...I was totally excited about it.
Got into the exhibit. Met by a lady in a lab coat who explained that all the exhibits were REAL! Paul (who is a total teachers pet know it all in these situations) asked her why the sign said there were APPROXIMATELY 206 bones in the human body. The lady got all flustered and started saying something about infants and their unfused skulls. Then admitted that she didn't know and would go ask someone. He totally loves doing things like this to people and was smiling all gleefully. I totally forgot about it until she chased us down in the next room and explained that some people have more bones in their tailbones than others. Then Paul started in with his "oh that's when people are born with tails" story. He's insisted for years that he himself was born with one and that his mom had it cut off and I should just ask her.
I just rolled my eyes and stopped listening.
I've always been a huge fan of plastination. Or taxidermy or embalming or any kind of dead thing preservation. I thought it would be great to be plastinized after I die, but Paul put his foot down and said it was too gross and he didn't want to have to go visit me in a museum somewhere.
So I was expecting to be totally fascinated and stoked on the exhibit. I was a little disappointed. I thought it was a little over produced and sterile. All the informational cards with the displays were basically 5th grade level health class info. Not sure what I was expecting. Maybe more information on the process or how it was developed and perfected. Not just a dumbed down description of the circulatory system. All but two of the full bodies were male and posed in weird sporting positions. Baseball, football, basketball, and darts were all represented. I just couldn't get into it.
Of course I forgot all about our souvenir photo in my cloud of dismay. It could have been fantastic and I'll never know.
Before leaving town, we stopped at the worlds largest gift shop to buy some crap for those people we work with. It was huge and full of fat pasty tourists furiously pawing through Vegas crap. There was tons of swag with pot leaves on it which I thought was weird until Paul pointed out the gigantic "call Dr. Reefer" billboard on the way out of town.
Got on the road to LA. Took an hour detour to get Paul more starbucks. I blogged most of the way. Paul insisted on taking me to the hustler store when we hot to LA. Mostly because I had been bitching and complaint for the better part of 2 days about my lack of a hustler hoodie, hustler juice and photographic evidence of both.
Plus I think I told him my life had no meaning without it.
So being the good husband that he is and not wanting me to die from longing, he took me there.
I figured the best I was going to get was some horrible sequined hoodie thing that I was going to shut up and buy anyway because if all the haranguing. But the only hoodie they had ended up being super cool with horseshoes and swallows. I bought the sweatpants too. So then I had to get a juice. Paul was unenthusiastic about the coffee because it wasn't starbucks, but I told him it might be made by a hot chick with her ass hanging out and that perked him up considerably.
Bur it was a scenester dude. Paul glared at me all resentful. Oh well. All the juice drinks had suggestive names and I think the one I got was called something like "there she blows" or some variation there off. Paul can't remember either. Should have written it down dammit!
Posed for my sassy picture and everything was right with the world!





Went back to Josh's house and I had a glass and a half of champagne and passed out at 12:30. Still the happiest girl in the world.

Ps. I forgot to mention that I did learn via the bodies exhibit that your kidneys are much higher up in your body than I thought they were.
Paul said "of course, that's why you can't punch people there in MMA". Then he kidney punched me.
-- Post From My iPhone

Road trip day three

July 7
Left Josh's house around noon. Drove around til we found a starbucks and a Jack in the box. Paul liked my breakfast sandwich better than his so he ate most of mine too.
Started driving towards Vegas. Blogged for most of the way. Paul was transfixed by the scenery which was mostly dirt, rocks and mountains.
"look it's a cactus!". He was all excited.
I glanced up briefly
"it's a joshua tree"
"no it's a cactus it's a California cacturitis"
He likes to make stuff up. I was going to google it but I was too busy.
Stopped at a filthy rest stop that was hotter than the hinges of hell. Packs of crows were hopping around with their beaks open. I don't know why. Maybe birds pant like dogs?
There were two womens restrooms. One said #1 and the other said #2 over the door. They both were equally disgusting so I chose #2. None of the stalls had doors. The toilets were all clogged with wads of tp and feminine products. The handicapped stall seemed the least revolting so I tried to hurry and pee before someone came in and saw me.
Paul waited for me outside at a "not being creepy lurking outside the ladies room" distance.
Went back to the car and got my camera to take a few pictures. Will post later.
Back on the road. Finished blogging about 30 minutes outside of Vegas.
I had booked a room earlier for $40 at the Luxor. It's where we always stay. Plus I wanted to see the Bodies exhibit really badly and it was there.
We found a fairly close spot in the self park and Paul made me carry way too many of my own bags. He wanted to bring the cooler, but what the eff? You get free drinks while you're gambling. We argued about whether to take it or leave it until he tried to pick it up and decided it was too heavy. It was at least a thousand degrees in the parking garage. It was a huge relief to make it inside the casino. We were immediately accosted by a huge guy in a suit.
"checking in?"
I thought he was going to take our bags and was so relieved to give them up. Instead it turned into a 10 minute sales pitch that ended up being some time share crap. Paul basically told them they were dicks for trying to scam us or some crap. I was just tired of carrying all my stuff.
Made it to registration. Upgraded our room to a spa suite for $50.
Dragged all our crap for at least another mile to the elevator. Our room was on the 23rd floor of the pyramid. Paul kept trying to get me to look over the edge of the walkway. My hands got all sweaty and I hugged the opposite wall. I don't think he would REALLY push me over the edge, but you can't be to sure.
Finally made it to our room. It seems to be as far away from the elevator as possible. Our options for the privacy please sign were a hot chick in a bra or carrot top. Later I would count the hot chick beating carrot top 10 to 1 on other doors. Our door sign at the Madonna inn had said "NO MOLESTE!" in huge red letters. Way cooler IMO.
Paul took a shower and we went downstairs to gamble and eff off. He drank 2 scotches in 5 minutes.
The waitress was walking by with someone elses drinks when he yelled and pointed at her tray
"what's that?! I want one of those"
"strawberry daiquiri"
It was a very girly looking drink with whipped cream and everything.
"I'm not pretending that's my drink". I told him. "that's all you"
He was totally giddy when it arrived and kept trying to get me to drink it even though I hate strawberries.
Meanwhile there was a scantily clad chick dancing on a stage amidst the blackjack tables. She was throwing out Mardi Gras beads to the people hucking chips at her.
"omg. Her whole ASS is hanging out!". Paul thought he was whispering.
Gambled for a bit. Had 2 glasses if champagne. Then Paul decides he has to ride the roller coaster and New York New York.
We took the tram over to Excalibur and walked the rest of the way. We kept having to stop so he could make me watch the roller coaster and tell me how awesome it was going to be. I wanted no part of it.
The entrance to the ride was located in the arcade and we had to wade through throngs of booty short clad teens and screaming toddlers. Panic set in for me. I hate crowds. And people. And peoples children.
Paul wasn't allowed to take anything on the ride so I was designated crap holder. I stood around and waited trying to look as much like I wasn't a creepy child murderer as possible. But mostly I was bored. I went into the gift shop and bought some touristy crap. Stood around and waited. Some creepy guy holding 2 beers came up and started talking to me.
"nice tats. You must be from so cal"
"no San Francisco"
"ooh nor cal! Frisco huh"
"yeah"
I tried to ignore him and he finally went away. Paul came out a few minutes later and was all gleeful that he had managed to illegally video tape the ride and then wanted to make me watch it.
I was starving. He had skipped dinner in favor of drinking and it was now midnight.
On our way out I saw the glass meat cabinet in the middle of the casino. Not sure the purpose, but made Paul take a not that flattering picture of me in front of it.
Walked back to our hotel after finding out the tram stopped running at 10:30. I was pretty sweaty, hungry and grumpy at this point. Passed an obvious call girl on the street. Then a priest carrying a little suitcase and smoking a cigarette like it was a joint.
Back at the hotel. Had a quesadilla in the 24 hour cafe. Paul had a chili cheese omelette. We debating drinking some more and finally decided to go back up to our room and get in the jacuzzi. It took over an hour to fill up, but it was worth it.



-- Post From My iPhone