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Girl Talk Thursday 11
Published June 4, 2009 | 
Girl Talk Thursday is Mommy Melee‘s weekly event, and I really love participating, so here it comes: my thoughts on the topic of “Booze. Booze. Booze.”
BOOOOOOOZE.
Oh, booze. You and I had a funny beginning. And by funny, I mean terrifying.
You see, on my 17th birthday, I filled a travel coffee mug with Hot Damn! cinnamon Schnapps, which I had sampled once while working at Dunkin’ Donuts when my 19 year old manager brought in a few shots (there were a lot of reasons I loved that job…)
Filling a travel mug with alcohol is not, in and of itself, a horrible thing. However, bringing it to school is. Drinking it during French class at 10am is. Waving your arms in the air to answer every question in English class while your classmates hiss at you, “TATIANA, DON’T TALK, YOU’RE DRUNK” is. Being so drunk that you go to your English teacher 20 minutes before school lets out and sobbing to him that you are so sorry that you were drunk during his class is definitely and unequivocally a horrible thing.
My poor English teacher. He was a very straight-laced, very Christian, very cute man. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to report me to the administration, because he liked me and I was obviously quite repentant for what I’d done, but he also valued his job, so… to the administration it was.
The administrator in question was Mr. PolishG, a round, awesome Polish dude with glasses. Every student loved him when he was happy, and feared him when he was angry. He was astonished to see me enter his office for this offense.
Well, eventually my mother showed up, and she talked to Mr. PolishG in Polish since it’s her native tongue, and fortunately this bonding experience lowered my punishment to the absolute minimum: a 5 day suspension.
So Mom drives me home, and it’s my birthday, and we get to the house and people sing Happy Birthday to me, and I blow out the candles on my cake and I think I got to open my presents, and then I was sent to my room FOR THE REST OF MY NATURAL LIFE.
Not really, since obviously I’m still alive and I’m no longer in my room, but point being… it was a pretty interesting introduction to booze.
These days, my drinking is much less eventful. I waver between vodka & cranberry juice or amaretto & cola being my favourite mixed drink. I love mojitos when they’re properly made, even if I can’t figure out how to keep the mint from floating to the top of the glass and interfering with every sip when I mix them myselves. I have fantasies about margaritas, but not the frozen/slushy ones, and they must have lots of salt.
I daydream about doing lemon drop shots. I toss a tsp of sugar in with my vodka and ice in a cocktail shaker, then strain it into a shot glass. Shoot the vodka and sugar, then bite down into a lemon wedge that has been dipped in sugar on both sides. Delish. I used to do these after work when I was a bartender — I had a particular customer who would buy me a whole row of shots if I let him. Don’t worry, I took a cab home!
Honestly though, I end up drinking wine most of the time. I’ve finally found one I quite enjoy — Vineland Estates 2007 Dry Riesling — and what makes me happiest about this is that they’re an Ontario vineyard. I really like to eat and buy locally whenever possible.
So… how do you feel about booze?
Girl Talk Thursday 10
Published May 28, 2009 | Girl Talk Thursday is Mommy Melee‘s weekly event, and I really love the thought, so here it comes: my thoughts on the topic of “What’s your makeup regimen?”
Um, the vast majority of the time, I’m totally bare-faced. But I’m really trying to make the effort to take time for myself and to look decent when I step out of the house, which includes brushing my hair (gasp!) and putting on make-up (double gasp!)
I start with a Dove moisturizer. I LOVE DOVE. I use CoverGirl TruBlend foundation because it’s lovely and light feeling (also, cheap), although I’m not sure it actually matches my skin tone but hey, what the hell, at least I’m putting on make-up. Then, if I can find my powder, I allllways powder because I have ultra shiny skin and that’s just not attractive. I skip the eyeliner unless it’s an ultra-special occassion, although last week I found my white eyeliner in the glove compartment of the car which is just lovely dabbed at the inner corner of your eyes to make them pop, so I may go back to using that.
For eyeshadow, I generally just use a shimmery brown to brighten the blue of my eyes, although I have silver, white, blue, russet, purple, etc. I don’t tend to play with multiple colours on the different areas of my eyelid (unless I really want to impress someone) because, you know, I have a BABY who is most likely demanding my attention and if she isn’t, then my husband is tapping his foot waiting for me to get ready.
Lipstick I almost always skip because I don’t have a good colour that I like. I have wanted a vixen-esque, movie star bright red forever, but I’ve never taken the time to experiment with them. Chapstick and lip gloss is the name of the game, although a friend turned me on to that Sally Hansen lipgloss with pepper in it that’s supposed to make your lips a little more swollen and luscious — so far the only thing I’ve found it to be good for is making Chris cringe and howl, “What the fuck is on your lips?” after I kiss him.
Mascara, however, is a Must-Have. If I have time for nothing else, I have time for mascara. It makes such a difference — both physically and mentally — I feel all hot & sexy if I have mascara on! I go for the brown-black stuff, though, since I’ve got a fair/ashen complexion.
Then again, she might just have been more interested in eating her own hand.
Published May 15, 2009 | For a few days, Maia stopped talking.
Oh sure, she’d smile at us when we talked to her, kicking her little arms and legs around wildly as if it was just the most delightful thing in the world to hear our voices, and she’d cry when angry, but she had nothing to say. Day one, I thought maybe she was just being quiet. Day two, I thought maybe I had talked over her and missed it that way. Day three, I finally said something to Chris (“Am I crazy or has she not been talking lately?”) and he confirmed her being quiet. Day four, I convinced myself that she had lost her voice forever and I was a horrible mother who was somehow to blame for it.
Day five — or hell, let’s be real, EXCESSIVELY EARLY MORNING of day five — she wakes up and decides she would like to stay awake after feeding. So I change her diaper and I figure that she’s probably getting ready to poo, which is usually the only reason she’ll refuse to go to bed in the middle of the night, but she didn’t want to snuggle up against my shoulder and just be carried. That’d be too easy, of course.
And you know what she decided to do?
Talk to me.
Also apparently make me add an extra ‘t’ to ‘dudette’. But no, she talked to me. For an hour.
Ah well. At least she’s talking again!
(This time next year, look for a post called “Maia won’t shut up oh god what do I do?!”)
Girl Talk Thursday 08
Published May 14, 2009 | Girl Talk Thursday is Mommy Melee‘s weekly event, and I really love the thought, so here it comes: my thoughts on the topic of “Who’s Your Girl Crush?”
Now, there are lots I could list here: Cristina Scabbia of Lacuna Coil. Angelina Jolie. Eliza Dushku. Megan Fox. Natalie Portman. Amy Lee of Evanescence. Christina Aguilera in her Dirrty days. Rachael Ray and her strawberry.
But above them all is this woman:
I just love her. I love that in some movies she’s a complete vixen, but in others (The Other Boleyn Girl, Lost in Translation) she’s not overly made-up and looks just like that fabled “girl next door”. And do you even remember how great she was in Justin Timberlake’s “What Goes Around Comes Around” video? I love her voice. I would be her BFF. I’d even get drunk and make out with her. Mrowr!
Who’s your girl crush?
Girl Talk Thursday 04
Published April 16, 2009 | Girl Talk Thursday is Mommy Melee‘s weekly event, and I really love the thought, so here it comes: my thoughts on the topic of “Sex Shenanigans. Share an embarrassing story”!
There’s really only one to share, because it’s epic.
I’m twenty years old, living in an apartment in Connecticut. This is the only time I’ve been entirely on my own, and it was awesome, if short-lived. It’s the first day — or night, really — that Chris and I have physically met (we got together online!). My mom had mentioned that she might come over and meet him, but after a lot of chatter, a little Red Sox watching, and a dinner of chicken cacciatore, it’s 9pm and we’ve finally decided that she’s not coming over. So we start getting our groove on. I’m pretty sure you can see where this is going.
I’m naked. He’s naked. It’s the beginning of July, I don’t have air conditioning, and it’s brutally humid. I’ve got my front door and all of my windows open (I honestly can’t even tell you if my blinds were drawn) to try and get some nighttime air inside. Of course, the fact that we’re doing the deed doesn’t really help the humidity per se, but that’s okay, we’re having fun. Loudly.
He pauses. “Did you hear something?”
“No…”
“I think I heard something,” he insists.
“No,” I repeat, and pull him close.
And then, to borrow a phrase from Meatloaf, LIKE A BAT OUT OF HELL, my mother comes storming into the living room where we are. Chris leaps off me and, ass-naked, goes racing up the stairs. I fumble around, grab my bathrobe (the one time in my life that my bad habit of leaving my wet towels wherever the hell I want to has come in handy), and physically get in front of her to block her. She’s screaming: “IS THIS HOW YOU TREAT MY DAUGHTER” etc etc… I’m telling her to stop, to leave him alone, whatever. I mean, this is terrifying. I’ve never seen my mom like this. Hell, I’m pretty sure she’s never seen me like this, in flagrante delicto and all.
Eventually, after much teeth gnashing, she leaves. It turns out that my siblings are in the car with her, and she told them to stay there because she thought she heard “something” through my open windows when they pulled up (whoops). Also, she tells me that maybe I should, you know, CLOSE THE FRONT DOOR if I’m going to be doing the nasty (whoops two).
Lesson learned, right? But here’s the best part:
Chris, my 6’2″, 185lb brown belt in karate, has locked himself in the bathroom. Because my mother, angry, is just that scary.
Yeah, I love you, Mom.