Gooney Goo Goo

On Sunday my friend, Cecile, asked me if I wanted to go to Bondi Beach with her. I had plans to go to church that day and I didn't feel like taking an hour long bus ride to the beach, either, so I declined. A few hours later she texted me and asked if Leonardo DiCaprio and Tobey Maguire were still in Sydney because she was sitting next to two Americans that looked like them. I told her they sure were here and that she better go get some phone numbers for us. Naturally, she didn't believe me and was too shy to go talk to random strangers. She was taking pictures of these guys to send to me and some bulky guy went up to her and asked her to step away and stop taking pictures. 

Yeah. Once the bodyguard struck, we knew who it was fo sho. So of course I am mad at myself for being too lazy to go to the beach and go get my bathing suit on in hopes of meeting some celebs. While getting ready I saw the Clemson-USC game was on, so naturally I had to watch a few (a very few) minutes of that and drink some vodka. I figured a little liquid courage wouldn't hurt things with Hollywood A-listers and I had to honor my Tigers. So after seeing how dismal the footy was, I went ahead to the beach, with backup meeting me there. An hour later (3:30) I arrive and Cecile tells me that they freaking left at 2.  Seriously, Leo? And you, Spider-man?! How could you? I make the damn effort to leave the house and pick out the PERFECT bikini AND I've been working out and you LEAVE? COME ON. If either of you wants to marry this girl, you have GOT to be more considerate. I reminded Karen that I am still waiting on that BBQ with Leo and I intend on reminding Josh and Pippy (the mutual friends of mine and Leo's) that this has to happen. Or at the very least a poker night. Where I take enough money to not work for the rest of my life and perhaps woo someone nearly 15 years older than I am. It worked for Blake Lively. 

I can be Lively too. Anyway...

Thanksgiving was boring. I didn't cook because I am mentally insane but I DID go to a great little pub and have beef pie. YUM. With gravy. And smashed peas. Delish. 

For "Chrissy" I am tagging along with the fam to go to Forster's Beach. 
 
Yeah. That's real nice. They offered me time off but I thought, you have GOT to be kidding. You cannot get rid of me when you invite me to a place like that. 


That's all for now. I took some video of Piper so you can hear her voice, but I am not sure how it turned out. If it's good, I'll post it shortly! Love to you all.

And remember: I'm willing to accept dares if you think you can come up with any fun ones!

What am I supposed to do when I walk past someone on the sidewalk/footpath? Have you ever had that moment when you saw someone walking the opposite way you were going from a really far away distance? It's terrible. Where are you supposed to look when you know you are both going to eventually meet? I try looking to my right but there is only a boring house which he will know I am not interested in. I look to my left which if I am lucky has some interesting car situation going on, but more than likely does not. I try looking at him/her/them but then I feel like I am looking for a fight. I try the ground but that says "I am weak and vulnerable" and I am NOT. This person must realize that I could pose a severe threat to his life, and looking at the ground while he passes me is not going to help convey that thought. So where do I look? My innate sense of curiosity tells me to look at the person as he passes because I want to know what he looks like and judge them/what sort of threat he poses. So what is normally done in this situation?


Today I started to giggle right in the middle of passing someone because I was so awkward and then I felt weird just laughing to myself down the street. Then on my way home I passed several boys who eventually made really awkward noises and I was really close to threatening their lives, but I refrained. What's a girl to do? Honestly...


A little lot bit drunk..........

Day Drinking!

Kitchen's a mess, my room's a disaster but I am currently downloading the rental of Harry Potter 7 part 2 and going to get a bottle of wine to go with it. I have to say I am pretty excited. On the bright side, I ran today for the first time in ages and my GOSH I miss it! Can't wait to start a regular routine. (I will...)






Anyway. While trying to decide whether or not to go get wine I thought, "what would Lindsay Bluth do?"


YAY!

Turkey Panic

Well, last night I had a really great time in Sydney. I went on my first ever party bus. It's basically an old bus with gaudy lights flashing, a DJ, and like 100 drunk people stuffed inside. It took us from pub to pub for 5 hours. Such a fun time! I met a lot of really wonderful people and almost accidentally participated in a Kama Sutra  positions contest at one of the bars.


This week is Thanksgiving and I'm quite bummed I won't be home to drink and eat and be merry with the fam. I adore this holiday because my entire alcoholic and food fanatic family pulls out all the stops for Turkey Day and it's always a good time. Almost as good as Christmas when my cousins and aunt try to get too drunk to leave the house and end up passing out to the sweet sounds of Christmas carols, Gramps being surly about something, Jay and I causing trouble, and a certain uncle being pervy.


Anyway, I was really looking forward to cooking something for the Extrems but as it is, I am scared that if I tried I will not only botch the entire meal but also have panic attacks over whether the meat is cooked, not cooked enough, or overcooked. Instead, I may end up making a tiny T Day dinner for myself because if I poison myself I won't care as much. Is it rude to not share something that may end up delicious and wonderful or, alternatively, may put them into the hospital if I screw it up? I realize that there are meat thermometers to avoid situations like this but I believe my anxiety is way past the help of any thermometer. Not to mention that I'm pretty sure Karen already thinks I'm a scary cook. For the record: packaged microwave rice doesn't exactly work the same as uncooked rice when you throw it into a sauce.

I sort of want to do a drunken post so maybe that can be my next goal! I know that alcohol and internet/social networking never mix but I think in this case....


Remember: Irish accents are dangerous.