New Things or Something-Something-Blog-Title

As if being 1/2 real Catholic and 1/2 fake Jew wasn't enough of a guilt trip, Facebook just sent me a text reminding me that I haven't posted anything recently, basically asking what I'm doing with my life. 

LOTS OF IMPORTANT THINGS, OKAY FACEBOOK???

And by important things, I'm actually kind of leaning more towards not important things. Like watching The Bachelor. Did you watch it this season? I think I'm the only woman on the planet who's not smoking bachelor crack and hating all over his Venezuelan ass (Is that where he's from? I don't even know.). Nobody and their mom should have been surprised that JP was a party hard Bachelor4Life; he wreaked of it when he was on the previous season. Except all the dumb stay-at-home-moms drooled all over him and called the producer hotline nonstop trying to get him in the hot seat. Anyway, on the final episode when Chris Harrison kept asking the same damn question over and over again like he had Tourette's and JP was like "I'm not telling her I love her" I was like "GOOD. You stay strong, JP. If homie don't love her and homie don't want to marry her, homie don't play that." Even if the whole thing was a farce and they split up like a day after the show ended, whatever. The whole thing is a shitshow anyway.

"Hola muchachas, let's make besos."

Did you watch the HBO series, True Detective, featuring the devilishly handsome Matthew McConaughey and the devilishly ugly Woody Harrelson? Eric and I watched every episode, feverishly studying the clues and the behind-the-scenes interview to solve the mystery on our own. In the end, it totally fell flat and everything that you expected to happen, happened. (Eric disagrees with me on this and thinks the ending was fantastic.)

BABE ALERT. And then there's Woody H. too.

Speaking of Facebook, it's really been showcasing all of my acquaintances worst, most annoying habits lately, making me question why I even associate with these people. I'm probably just being hateful, but probably not actually. The philosophical posts that have a facade about being about nothing at all but are really more like giant red "I'm crazy" flags are the best/worst. Like when girls post inspirational shit about if you love a woman, you treat her right and buy her a truck and feed her dog and blah blah blah. Which is basically a one-way message obviously directed straight to their significant other who has apparently mistreated them recently. 

Dumb.

As for annoying things going on in my own life, that's much less interesting. Life has been good, which makes for unfunny blog post business. For now, I'll continue to eat my Fruit Loops and Cheetos for dinner and post politically-incorrect-but-funny internet things.

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Wedding Planning: It Drains the Brain

Do you remember when you were in school and it came down to the night before a big paper was due and were you just barely cracking a book, trying to squeeze a little bit of brain juice out, but all you were getting was some dust and a few tumbleweeds?

Me too.

There have been a million things going on every day and trying to recount the tales is proving to be too much for this tumbleweed.

To give you an idea, I'm getting married soon. Very soon. There have been lots of appointments, and errands, and phone calls, and emails, and lists, and photo shoots (my life is so hard). Some of them more notable than others.

• I bought a cute fabric accessory to go with my wedding dress (which I can't describe because Eric sometimes reads my blog) and tried to give it a slightly aged effect by tinting it with tea. It turned out brown.

• I had some alterations done to my dress and they turned out crazy. So one night, when I was home alone, I started "fixing" things myself. 

Fixed it.

• I bought my wedding shoes because they were A) designer, and B) super cheap. They may, or may not, have been such a steal because they're two slightly different shades of the same color. Whatever. I CAN'T PASS UP A GOOD DEAL, OKAY.

• I had a hair trial that ended up looking like My Little Pony took a cotton candy turd on my head.

• I had a makeup trial that looked like Jocelyn Wildenstein, Angelyne, and Hellen Keller got together and had a fight on my face.

And despite all of these trials (and errors) I'm totally not even losing my mind. Instead, I'm just super fucking stoked to be marrying my best friend. I don't care how the day's events pan out, even if I look like a tornado of over-priced insanity, I can't wait to walk down that aisle.

MRS BLOGGER-MARRIED-LADY, HERE I COME!!!

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Trying to Get Food and Failing Miserably.

Happy Memorial Day! Are you off from work today? I am and I'm celebrating by wearing man-shorts and Charlie Manson hair. I look good.

Disclaimer: This is a long story, but totally worth it in the end.

Last night around 7:45pm, my sister called and asked if we'd had dinner yet. It was impeccable timing because we were being lazy and had only started to open up some leftover freezer packages to throw together something I like to call "Leftover Cafeteria Special Food Surprise." Actually, I've never called it that, but I should because that's basically what it is. Anyway, my sister and her family, along with my mom, were going to our favorite "gourmet burger" restaurant and asked us to join. Not being ones to pass up good food, we threw all of our freezer odds n' ends into ziplock baggies and jumped in the car. 

When we got to the restaurant, we discovered the worst news of my life. 

It was closed.

Not, like, forever closed. Just closed because it was 8:00pm and apparently that's too late for a restaurant to be open on a holiday weekend.

After a short discussion in the parking lot, we opted to move our caravan over to Fatburger. However, by this point, we'd learned our lesson and Eric called ahead to check their hours. And of course, they closed at 8:30pm, which was about the time that we would be getting there.

Fuck.

Since we didn't want to waste any more precious time traveling to another location, because it was becoming apparent that all notable eateries close down at dusk, we decided to go to a chain restaurant called Buffalo Wild Wings because it was located nearby.

Immediately upon entering, I was punched in the face with the sour smell of buffalo sauce. It was sick. Not wanting to be the one to put us back on a restaurant-hunt, I sucked up my disdain and put our name in at the front desk. The host looked like a stereotypical meathead, prettyboy jock. Mouth-breather, for sure. He was rude and dumb and I'm sure his mother is very proud.

I grabbed a menu and looked through the shitfest to figure out what I could eat. Shock and awe, there was nothing. So, we ended up leaving the place five minutes after we'd gotten there. While standing outside, we decided to caravan our group of 10 over to BJ's Brewery. Eric called ahead and they were definitely open. Things were looking good.

Goodish, anyway.

We got to BJ's and what do you know, there's a 45 minute wait. 

By this point, it's 8:30pm, we have five hungry kids on our hands and we know our options are limited.

There happens to be an In-N-Out in the same shopping center as BJ's, so we settle on that and make our way over. 

As we pull into the parking area, a WHOLE BASEBALL TEAM OF HUNGRY TEENAGE GIRLS  RUNS INTO THE RESTAURANT. No joke, like 20 girls piled into In-N-Out, halfway sticking out of the front doors.

While my sister is standing in line (at the very back, practically in a different time zone), she spots an open booth. And even though it would probably be another two hours before we'd even get our food, we stake our claim. A few minutes later, another booth opens up and we take that one too. By this point, our group is pretty disorganized: Tanya is in line, Eric and I are at a booth, two kids are at the other booth. My mom and brother-in-law, Kenny, walk in and they're both shaking their heads, like "What the fuck are we still doing here when there are 200 amazon teenagers in front of us?" 

It was around this time that Kenny's car alarm goes off. Loudly. He had parked right at the front door, so it was obvious that it was his car. He pressed the alarm button on his keys and it turned off. Some re-evaluations took place and Eric and I decided to bail and just grab fast food. Faster than In-N-Out.

One our way home, I got the following text from my sister:

This conversation still makes me laugh.

Apparently, M. thought it would be a good idea to play a game of "Hide" in the car when everyone else got out. And since we'd been in a hurried frenzy to find a restaurant, it just so happened that nobody noticed he was missing. So while everyone was hanging out inside In-N-Out, M. was trying to make his way out of the minivan. Which also explains why Kenny's car alarm went off not once, but two times. 

Long story short (too late), after six failed dinner options (counting our original menu) and the chance to eat with my family, the three of us ended up eating McDonald's at 9:00pm back in our living room, by ourselves.

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Busy.

You know those days when you have so much stuff going on and you don't have time to think straight, or wash your hair, or enjoy a good TLC marathon of Four Weddings?

That fragile state of being-on-the-verge-of-homicide is precisely where I am right now.

My brain is like "OH MY GOD I HAVE A TON OF SHIT TO DO I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE THE FUCK TO START BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE ANY TIME TO THINK ABOUT IT. It's been 12 years since I posted on my blog (not that anyone's noticed), I haven't uploaded any of the 5,238 photos from our Disneyland trip, Eric's birthday is just around the corner and A1 planning needs to take place, the laundry is practically walking itself to the trash can because, at this point, it's beyond washing, oh, and that new job is totally cramping my sleep-till-noon-and-wear-pajamas-all-day style!!!"

Since this is really just a filler post to make myself feel better (about myself), I'm not going to get all long-winded about anything in particular. But I will say that my new job is killer and they bring in free catered food and I work pretty much autonomously, which I love, and it's rad. Also, they bring in FREE CATERED FOOD.

My chins high-fived each other when they learned the good news.

Things are looking up, my friends.

This is not from my catered job, it's from Food Truck night. Whatever, you get the idea. 

I like food.

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A Mini Vlog.

This is what happens when I'm bored and home alone.

I think I just stroked out.

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Avocados.

There's a board member at work who owns an avocado ranch. The other day he brought in two giant pallets of avocados for the office. There were so many, I gladly grabbed a few and made my way back to my desk.

These are Ettinger avocados. They're the biggest, brightest, most mutant-planet looking avocados I've ever seen. Here's a photo to give you an idea of its size.

Anyway, I grabbed four of these suckers and I have no idea what to do with a single avocado that's the size of a Los Angeles studio. Anyone have any recipes they feel like sharing? Anyone feel like coming over for a guacamole party?

Avocados for days....

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Random St. Patrick's Day Thoughts.

-St. Patrick's Day is two days away and I've got nothing planned. I don't even think I own any green apparel. I HATE MYSELF!!!

-Maybe I can swing making Enchiladas Suizas and that will be my green contribution! No, we just had those this week. Also, that's totally not close to being Irish.

-Maybe I'll make a Limeade Pie...? No. I probably won't. That's a cold dessert and the weather is already cold as shit right now.

-Maybe Cottage Pie...? Ugh. It's too early to be thinking about food. Unless it's donuts.

-Maybe I'll juts eat donuts for St. Patrick's Day.

-Pearl and I are going to be in a parade this weekend. I don't know how I feel about it yet. Actually, yes, I do know how I feel about it and it's kind of like "Ughghghhhghhhghghgh." But I think it will be exciting for Pearl. And that's good enough for me.

-I haven't eaten corned beef and cabbage in over a year. Such a crime. Eric and I were at The Farmers Market at The Grove the other day and I saw corned beef and cabbage there. I was all over it until I realized a plate cost $15. Ain't nobody got time for that.

-My birthday is in 17 days.

-Vons has three bunches of daffodils for $5.00 right now. It's a great deal.

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Guest Post Featuring Biscuit.

Just a quick note-

I was asked to write a guest post about Biscuit! It was featured yesterday at COFFEE WITH A CANINE. Go check it out and contact Marshall if you're interested in doing a post yourself.

Thanks!

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Phrases I'm Tired of Hearing.

If I never hear these words/ terms/ phrases again, I will be in Heaven.

Saying "I know, right???" or the alternate "-Right???"
Used in a conversation
Person A: "I can't believe she wore those jeggings. They are so out of style."
Person B: "I know, right???"
This makes no fucking sense because Person B has not said anything that would require affirmation. Instead they are asking for affirmation for what Person A just said. Which obviously Person A already affirmed because he/she was the one who freaking said it in the first place.


Verbally saying "OMG" pronounced "Oh em gee"
Used in a sentence
"OMG, I'm so excited!"
This slang verbiage should be saved for texting or some other occasion that requires informal typing. The only time it should be used in actual conversation is never.


Inappropriately calling someone "Passive-aggressive"
Used in a conversation
Person A: "Hey, would you guys mind keeping it down? I'm on a phone call."
Person B: "SOMEONE'S being passive-aggressive today..."
When a person directly asks you to adjust your behavior, that's not called passive-aggressive. That's just normal human interaction. Quit making something out of nothing and get back to work.


"Honestly???"
Used in a conversation
Person A: "What do you think of your brother's new girlfriend?"
Person B: "Honestly??? I'm just so over her."
No, not honestly. I asked you a question because I want you to answer with the most inaccurate, falsified, faker-fakington response your imagination can think of. To be clear, there's nothing wrong with starting a sentence with the word "honestly." It's the pause and question mark that are unnecessary.


"Bandwith"
Used in a conversation
Person A: "Hey, do you have any bandwith to take on this editing project?"
Person B: "No, sorry. My schedule is full today."
Usually heard in the workplace, "bandwith" seems like the trendy way to say "time." Why don't people just use say "time" instead? For the same reason they say "ping me" instead of "contact me." Because this is the future.


"Literally"
Used in a sentence
"I laughed so hard, I literally shit my pants."
Do you know what the word "literally" means? Did you actually poop in your pants? I'm pretty sure you didn't, because if you had, you probably wouldn't be so eager to share that piece of information*. (*Unless you're me.)

If you have any, feel free to add them below. Sharing is caring.



Speaking of poop-

Yesterday, while on a phone call with a wedding vendor, I managed to say "feces pit" instead of "pieces fit." I'm sure she was impressed with my extensive knowledge of wedding terminology.

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TechnoViking, You Will Never Lose Your Charm.

I don't remember the first time I saw Techo Viking (this one in particular, anyway), but it was a while ago.

I never get tired of it.

There are several things that should be noted with this video:

A) It's ten solid hours of Techno Viking fun. Perfect for playing at your next special event.

B) Not shown in this video is how dead-serious he is when he starts dancing. It looks like he's threatening Nordic harm on some fool who clearly has no idea who he's messing with.

C) Techno Viking is ripped. I think I'm going to try his dance routine as my new workout video.

You can thank me later for this one.

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How Do You Eat Your Waffles?

The other morning, we made waffles for breakfast. Eric told Pearl that we were having waffles and mentioned their favorite toppings: Peanut butter and syrup. While the thought of this makes me gag, I can appreciate that everyone has different tastes.



This morning, I hosted breakfast for my best friend and her sons. I mentioned all of the topping possibilities: Butter, maple syrup, boysenberry syrup, whipped cream, fresh fruit, and the peanut butter/ syrup combo. She replied that she doesn't do the combo, but her sister does.

It got me thinking- where did this peanut butter/ syrup cult originate? Before Eric, I had never even heard of this combo before. I mean, I guess if this is something you grew up eating (like in Eric's case), I can see how you'd like it. I, myself, don't really peanut butter OR syrup, so the thought of ruining a freshly made waffle with that thick, sticky, gooey mess grosses me out.

I loaded mine up with butter, a little bit of syrup, whipped cream, and fruit. -Fruit, because I'm being healthy, obviously.

So, let's hear it: How do you eat your waffles? Or pancakes, for that matter. What are your toppings of choice?

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A Recycled Vlog from My Facebook Page.

A couple weeks back, I asked on my Facebook page for some on-the-spot vlogging topics. I was bored, and had important things to do. Which essentially means, I was not doing said important things, and instead, wasting time and begging for vlog topics.

Michael chimed in and asked about restaurants that I'd recommend in the Ventura County area.

And then... the vlog was reborn.

The bad news is that it probably won't benefit you if you don't live in the area. The good news is that it might not even benefit you if you DO live the area because I'm the world's worst restaurant critic.


RESTAURANT RECOMMENDATIONS IN VENTURA COUNTY


Here's the link to my Facebook post. I'd upload the actual video, but it's too big and I can't figure out how to resize it and The People's Court is starting in 15 minutes and I need a nap.

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My Post-Thanksgiving Bod.

I gained four pounds between Thanksgiving and Sunday.

For all you non-mathletes out there, I reckon that's one pound per day.

Showcasing all my hard eating work is the laparoscopy aftermath strewn about my midriff. The combination of five tightly cinched scars on the overextended potbellyness of my new physique is something akin to high-quality, Baroque furniture.

For a nominal fee, I'm available to sit in your tea rooms/salons/ parlours and look fancy.

Basically me.

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Unbaby.me, You're a Genius.

Have you heard of the app called Unbaby Me?

I saw the creators on The Ricki Lake show (what.) and immediately I knew this app would be right up my alley.

Basically, it searches through the Facebook images your friends are posting and changes anything recognized as a baby and/or child to other enjoyable items, like walruses and bacon. It doesn't actually change the original image, it just changes what you, the app user, sees.

Ha! It's genius, right??

I know what you're saying. Yes, it's a little mean spirited, and yes, my hair does look good today. It's all in good fun though. I'm the first to admit pretty much every tyke's face that shows up in my Facebook feed is so ding-dang cute they all make me want to smother them. With kisses.

I just may have to put this sweet app to use soon. -Partly because my jealous, barren guts are crying on the inside. But also because my face is laughing on the outside.

I'm kicking myself for not having come up with this on my own.

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Wordless Wednesday.

In a galaxy far, far away: Chewbacca Pearl waits patiently while we shop for clothes.

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Once Upon a Time, I Wore a Wig to a Frat Party.

I don't know why, but I've been on a hair kick lately. More specifically, I was thinking about a hair "fall" I used to have.

For those of you who don't know, a fall is basically a clip on ponytail.

You know, something really stupid like this.

One night- I must have been around 20 or 21- I was going to a frat party at UCLA. Since I had short hair, and short hair at a frat party pretty much means no one would spit on you if you were on fire, I decided to clip on my magic hair.

I remember I was wearing something equally embarrassing too. Capris and a t-shirt with the Playboy bunny across the front. That I bought from a Wet Seal knock-off store.

Barf.

So, I was at the frat party, dancing my generic capris off and some dude made his way over to me. I thought he was hot stuff so we started dancing together.

I could tell he was really into me by the way his drunken, crossed-eyes would focus in the same general vicinity as my face. Lucky for us both, the lights were low and the drinks were strong, and I'm pretty sure neither of us even knew what planet we were on, much less be able to identify each other in a police lineup.

At one point, he decided to run his fingers through my hair. At that same point, I started having a mental freak-the-fuck-out moment. 

"Oh my GAWWWD! He's going to rip my fucking FALL OFF!! This is SO embarrassing! What am I going to do??!?"

I managed to stretch my neck out like a giraffe to follow the movement of his dumb, drunk hand so as to minimize the rip-off-ability.

And I made flirty eyes.

And then I playfully swatted that shit away.

No one messes with my fake hair.

We probably made out by the end of the night. I can't really remember. Maybe not though. I may have just bailed early to grab a burrito on the way home.

It was a special moment, I'm sure.

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Hairstyles That Should Be Allowed Nowhere. On Any Planet. Ever.

I don't care if she can see the future, she needs to start seeing the present. 

Stupid.com 

Straight bangs with curly hair. Her own babies can't even bare to look at it. 

You're not fooling anyone with those natural looking hair extensions.

I know this is a wig, but I used it as an excuse to throw her ugly ass in here too. 

I saw these two pix and they were too good to pass up. Lol.

Haters wanna hate. 

The fuck is this anyway??

And then I came across this badboy. At least his hair serves a purpose. 

Have a good weekend!

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Why Did the Duck Cross the Busy-Ass Freeway?

Yesterday was like the 5th time I've seen a duck family crossing the 101 freeway during rush hour traffic in the past few months. I don't know what it is about this stretch of land that's so inviting to a family of ducks. Every time it happens, and I see them waddling across the road, I gasp and my heart skips a beat and I want to run out and scoop the ducks up and return them to safety and be a duck-hero and have Sarah McLachlan write a song about how I'm an animal saver.

But instead I make a sad face and zoom past them.

Most of the time, traffic slows and swerves and I leave the scene saying a Hail Mary. One time though, when traffic was particularly shitty and barely crawling along, a women in the car next to me threw her car into park, jumped out, and started scooting the chicks to safety. I was happy and proud and beaming for that woman who risked getting her car pulverized for the sake of some dumb little birds.

But every time since then, I feel ashamed that I didn't get out.

And I think "Maybe that's why bad things happen to me- Because I don't save ducks!!!!!"

These little duck families are super cute too. If there's one thing I'm a sucker for, it's cute, baby, fuzzy animals in danger.

What would you do??? Would you stop and shoo them across? Or would you drive away, humming The Circle of Life?

Like this. Only we weren't in Europe. And I wasn't wearing a vest.

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How's My Weekend, You Ask...

Yesterday morning, Boyfriend went up to Santa Maria to help his parents move. Since I had a shitty (read: endometriosis) week, I decided to stay home and make the most of this maxing and relaxing weekend.

This is how my weekend panned out.

SATURDAY

-Wake up at 7:30am to take Biscuit to the vet. Two hours and $175 later, we have a diagnosis of "fungal infection". The vet mentions something about "contagious" and "ringworm" and my skin literally jumps out the window and runs down the street.

-Boyfriend leaves for Santa Maria. I decide to spoil myself with a mani/pedi gift card that that I'd been hoarding for the past three months. (Since I'm poor as shit, I have to use these special moments sparingly.) Feel good about myself and manage to make Vanna White gestures as often as possible in order to show off my beautiful nails.

Like these except not as nice.

-Bathe Biscuit with special anti-fungal shampoo. The bathroom looks like I wallpapered it in black angora. Decide to leave it for later when it's all dried up and I can easily Swiffer the heaps of dog hair.

-Do 85 loads of laundry, including bed linens and dog beds, due to a certain canine's "fungal infection".

-Proceed to have wrestling matches with both a fitted sheet and a duvet cover.

-Notice that my "splurge" manicure is fucked. Rage out.

-Get awful, binding, diarrhea cramps. Drag myself backwards ala The Exorcist into bed and pass out.


SUNDAY

-Wake up at 2:45am with painful, explosive, faucet-butt diarrhea. (You can thank me later for that image.)

-Play hopscotch from the bed to toilet from 3-4am.

-Play hopscotch from the toilet from 8-10am.

-Boyfriend texts that he's on his way back. Drag myself out of bed and attempt to clean the black angora bathroom.

Pretty much just like this.

Which brings me to right now. 2:11pm, laying in bed, guts are sore, exploding butt, haven't eaten anything except Gatorade. I guess the bright side to this ongoing hell (read: endometriosis) and constant stomach problems is that I've lost weight. And if we're going to brag here, I even weigh less than when I got married back in 2007. At least being sick is good for something. At least.

So much for my weekend of maxing and relaxing.

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It's Always Fun Discovering Photos of Yourself That You Don't Even Remember Taking.

I'm sitting at the computer right now, uploading a picture to Facebook. Boyfriend comes up and plugs in his camera to upload some recent photos.

When he plugs in the camera, there's a brief flash of the previous photo import.

I notice what looks like someone in a hospital gown.

TILTE: "What was that? It looked like someone in a hospital gown."
Boyfriend: "Yeah, that was you."
TILTE: "No, really."
Boyfriend: "I'm serious. I took those at your colonoscopy."
TILTE: "No, you didn't."
Boyfriend (laughing): "Yes, I did! I asked you if you wanted to take pictures for your blog and you said yes."
TILTE: "NO I DID NOT. I don't remember that."

Come to find out, not only did I OK the photos, apparently I was the one who originally asked (post procedure) to have my picture taken. Because, as it turns out, I'm vain and ridiculous even when I'm totally loaded.

So, I opened up the photos in question...

And there I was. Looking all kinds of crazy.

And since we all know just how vain and ridiculous I am, I won't post the real "cream of the crop" photos. The ones where you can see my corpse legs and scrunchy hospital socks and bedhead and paranormal activity staredown.

On the upside, things can only get better from here.

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