Oh snap.

I kinda knew this would happen. Deep in my heart of sports prediction hearts. Does it make it any easier? No. Now, the SEC will be all we'reawesomethebig12isforpussyteamsthatscuck. And also, Texas and Utah will be all thiswouldneverhavehappened to us. Well, guess what kids, it would've. Know why? Because, in spite of it all, Oklahoma is a kickass team that succeeded at not losing to Florida, but to itself this evening. Also, we are destined to lose all bowl games presided over by our dear St. Stoops. There I said it. So sue me. Finally, I am terribly drunk, so I will surely either regret or forget what I have said. In the meantime: boomer sooner. We will prevail! In 2018. Or something near that.

Hamburgers.

Holy balls,

I might possibly have the worst hangover of my long and storied history of hangovers (How did I sustain this hangover? Two words. Beer pong. And also bars. And peer pressure. And dancing around in a garage to Curtis Mayfield.). Not even McDonald's (my disgusting hangover remedy, whatevs, you do it too) has helped, in fact, I think it hurt. Definitely hurt. All I have managed to do today is smear last night's mascara all over my pillows, give my self a rash from drooling during intermittent and involuntary naps while watching Planet Earth in a whimpering pile buried beneath my comforter trying not to vom. But you know what? It can't feel as bad KU must feel about now. Or OSU for that matter. Gundy, I thought you were a "man." And Mangina, looks like your easy ass schedule finally caught up with you. We will beat you, Mizzou, and then we're on our way to the Preparation H Fidelity Nabisco Taco Cabana FedEx/Kinkos Diet Coke with Lemon Halliburton Bowl! Which is not the championship, but oh well.

Everything That's Happened To Me Since Wednesday or, Sorry to Disappoint, Crimenotes:

1. Work has kicked my ass. But I also might be offered a new job, which would result in less ass kickings and more $$. In the meantime, I am boring.

2. Ultimate extreme tragedy struck. My cell phone finally bit it. Bitch snapped in half. I, of course, followed suit. I had a total and utter meltdown Friday night that resulted in me drinking margaritas at Chili's. In a related story, I have lost everyone's numbers. To most, this would be absolutely devastating, but for me, it's ok, since I only have like three friends. But if you want me to call you or not screen your call since I won't recognize your number, send me an email with your digits, yo.

3. My dad runs on bacon. Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, my dad somehow managed to incorporate bacon into every meal prepared at the old homestead (no, Shain, I wasn't eating it - jerk didn't ask me if I wanted any). Now, don't get me wrong, I love me some bacon, but it's not really all that sexy to go out smelling like Waffle House.

4. See ya C-tina! C-tina made her brief, but triumphant return to Nompton before she departed for Slovakia for 10 months. We ate quiche at La Baguette just like the old days. We bought too much food at Forward Foods. We wandered around Guest Room Records for an hour. I bought Whatever and Ever Amen and was amazed that I still know every word to every song. We had ninth grade in my bedroom. It was wonderful.

5. I saw a movie. And a good one. I think. I might be the only one, though. Eagle vs. Shark played at the Oklahoma City Museum of Art. I was obligated to like it because Jemaine Clement is in it, so. Also, there were shark and eagle costumes. And most importantly, a supremely awkward relationship. All of those things are near and dear to my heart. The theater was really quiet, so I had to stifle my laughter quite a bit. That, plus my desperate need to pee, but refusal to get up proved to be a multi-media viewing experience. I'm fairly certain my viewing companion thought I was having a seizure. Which is cute right? No? If you can, see this movie. You'll like it. Oh, and then I went to this bar you'd also like. It's called Edna's. You can drink something called a Lunchbox. At first, I thought Edna's Lunchbox was akin to the Houston Ham Sandwich or Cincinnati Bow-Tie and was quite skeptical of the suggestion (but hey - I'll try anything once), but it's actually a delicious, yet cheap drink. That and other beverages required a trip to the bathroom. Which was fun, since there was only one stall and it had no door. Nothing like having to ask a random girl to guard your front. I did get felt up, though. I somehow always do in the ladies room. I dunno.

6. I bought a book. It's by Anthony Bourdain, of course. Is it weird I only read it before bed so I can dream of not (only) him, but the food?

7. I am contemplating the end of this blog. I am either depressed or thinking about being happy. I am no longer wallowing in abject misery, which seemed to be what worked best. What do you think?

So, uh, about that...

As you might or might not know, yesterday was the day I turned the big 2-6. I spent the day doing boring shit (e.g. making fried tofu, reading my Mao biography, staring at the Sunday Times thinking about how I should read it but then getting bored with myself for thinking about that) then napped like I've never napped before. Epic drool. It was lovely. Then, I put on a dress (I know, big time for the Bee-Spot!) and used my new crease brush to make myself look like I got punched in the eyes in an effort to look "sexy." I think I ended up looking methy - which is close. Finally, Lacey and I were ready to head out for a lavish dinner. And boy, was it lavish. Our darling waiter hooked us up with some lovely blueish martinis that Lacey drank two of - big deal time! We feasted on lobster, crab cakes, spinach and wedge salads, then I got the salmon and L got the filet. Our sides were sauteed corn and creamed spinach. And creamed pants. So effing good I wanted to kill myself! But I didn't. Next I was off to The Deli where I was serenaded by my favorite song, "My Ho Drives A Big Red Car," which was thoughtfully requested especially for me. Thanks. I then proceeded to drink my weight in Pacifico. I hippie danced like a tard. I got hippie hugged by a sweaty (but hot) dreadlocked chick with a fake British acccent. I peed 800 million times and made best friends in the bathroom. L and I took shitty pictures. I ran into an old high school friendish whom I hadn't seen in forever. I screamed along to "Level" (Raconteurs) all the way home. Speaking of home, I made it back with my earrings, underwear and whatever modicum of dignity I have left in general. And that's when it happened. C-tina promised me a slide show of a gift (yes, we are weird like that and more than likely, you'll see it on Wednesday) so I hopped online. Let me just say, milk was a bad choice. Old high school friendish had aready Facebooked me, so natch I replied to his message. I'm afraid to even look. I emailed C-tina in response to the HI-LARIOUS and touching slide show she made me with completely nonsensical ramblings. I commented on some blogs... so, uh Dan, the wedding's probably off now, huh. Do we have to return the gifts? I responded to some blogger emails - I have no idea what I said and am afraid to find out. Also, I sent some spectacular text messages to people I barely know (I am praying to the God I don't believe in that I didn't respond unkindly to the ex's text). Love me! My head is a cement mixer, but other than that, not too bad. The best gift of all was the gift of lateness this morning. I got to come in at nine! In closing, thanks for all of the b-day wishes, gifts, texts, calls, etc. Y'all are the best. Except you, Shain since you just called me an old lush. 26 is the new awesome.

Is this a Cringesday picture? No. This is why I hate having my picture taken. Ugh city. However, it was at least 12am and I was full of beer and stupid by then.

Coming up: pictures and Zack Harrison Memorial Music Monday. I'm going to feel really bad if I find out that Zack's really dead.

Zack Harrison Memorial Music Monday: Anniversary of my unceremonious dumping edition.

Update: Mr. Shain weighs in.


Today, I think, marks the day the exbf dumped me. I'm not gonna lie, it's been rough going, but I think I'm going to pull through. Someday.


I wrote this super long, whiney ass post about everything, then realized it was crap. The exbf sucked in a lot of ways, but it's all in the past. Bygones.

This week's break-up playlist:

Lover I Don't Have To Love - Bright Eyes
Littles Things - Lily Allen
Song for the Dumped - Ben Folds Five
Handle With Care - Jenny Lewis
She's Got You - Patsy Cline
Somebody That I Used To Know - Elliott Smith
Single Again - The Fiery Furnaces
I'm Sorry I Love You - The Magnetic Fields
Let's Not Belong Together - Pete Yorn
How Come You Don't Call Me Anymore - Prince
High and Dry - Radiohead
If I Ever Feel Better - Phoenix
Don't Think Twice, It's Alright - Bob Dylan
Broken One - Luke Doucet
Alternative to Love - Brendan Benson
Lovers Need Lawyers - The Good Life
Pictures - Sia
Why Does It Always Rain On Me? - Travis
The One That Got Away - Tom Waits
I'm A Broken Heart - The Bird and the Bee
Come Pick Me Up - Ryan Adams
The District Sleeps Alone Tonight - The Postal Service
Smile - Lily Allen
Let It Die - Feist
I Am Trying To Break Your Heart - Wilco
I Don't Love Anyone - Belle and Sebastian

Hopefully sometime soon I'm finally unheartbroken playlist:

Better Together - Jack Johnson
Sweet Thing - Van Morrison
Us - Regina Spektor
Sundress - Ben Kweller
Gamble Everything For Love - Ben Lee
Thirteen - Big Star
In A Little While - U2
Power of Two - Indigo Girls
How Can I Tell You - Cat Stevens
Inside and Out - Feist
First Day of My Life - Bright Eyes
Always Love - Nada Surf
Parentheses - The Blow
Dream - Alice Smith
I'm The Man Who Loves You - Wilco
This Will Be Our Year - Ok Go
Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Piazza, New York Catcher - Belle and Sebastian
Ambulance - T.V. on the Radio
I Will Follow You into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie
Let My Love Open the Door- M. Ward
I'll Be Your Mirror - Clem Snide
Such Great Heights - The Postal Service
Love, Love, Love - As Tall As Lions

Champagne, you are a snake in the grass.

I think the beginning of the end was that there was a four hour gap between the wedding ceremony and the reception. I'm not sure what was happening with the bride and groom during this little break (I have a guess, but I've yet to find someone who needs four hours), but most of the youngsters were guzzling red bull and vodka at an alarming rate. Gotta prepare for the free bar, you know. We made our way to the reception location and were greeted with the first of many glasses of champagne. The reception was held at the Oklahoma Museum of Natural History, which was interesting. There were no flowers allowed. There's kind of an atriumish area that served as the dance floor featuring a giant bronze mastodon. Who doesn't love dinosaurs? During the speeches and cake cutting, Morgan and I almost exploded from stifled laughter because the whole thing took place in front of its balls. Right, so food eaten (delicious, delicious gravlax!), speeches made, old people music played, champagne eagerly consumed, youngerish people music played, dance dance revolution. It was actually really fun seeing all of these kids from high school with whom I don't usually hang out, since they're all better than me and shit. I saw one kid that I haven't seen in forever, but was in MA at MIT the same time as me. We should've been friends. Oh well. I eeked out a polite hello to the exbf's father and expertly avoided his mother. I hope a good time was had by all and I wasn't a terrible date.

As per usual, the end of the night gets a little fuzzy, but I've figured a few things out. I talked at length to parents of an elementary school friend, who hopefully thought my tipsiness was charming. I return stalked the kid that propositioned me at New Years. We all headed over to one of the groom's friends hotel room for an after party of sorts. I think I ate pizza as I woke up with a touch of heartburn. I almost dropped some gifts. I definitely smoked a cigarette. I slept on a sleeping bag. All in all, not too bad, for me. Except maybe it was. I dunno.

I took a few pictures, but I look terrible, so instead, I'll provide you with a moment when Morgan was asked by the father of the groom (to whom you never say no) to serenade the couple with an acapella rendition of For Sentimental Reasons. It was a good party trick. She also caught the bouquet. And there were a lot of ladies competing for that one.


And now my feet hurt from wearing heels for a million hours. Does that count as a work out of any kind?

Update: I had another snapshot of the evening. It involved me somehow roping Seth Witten into a conversation. Sorry buddy, I'm sure it wasn't the most coherent of my life.

Also, in case you're living under a rock, Linds got busted! [TMZ]

And now, back to the Monk marathon on USA. You know you want to.