Powder Party

So, there are only five units in my building, and I rarely see any of my neighbors. Coincidentally, I happened to see one of them for the second time yesterday, the first being at four am when I had a boy over and I had to go down to him sitting in his car and ask him ever so politely to you know, not blast music and jam out at four am when I have a boy over.

Anyway.

So he said hi, and ever so politely (WE ARE SO POLITE) invited me to a party he was throwing that evening, and gave me his number to call in case they got too loud. I said thanks, knowing I would do neither of those things. Go to a party where I know no one? Call and tell someone to be quiet when they're having fun and I'm a sad loner alone being lonely?

Never.

Anyway.

Voices carry from his place (which makes me wonder if they carry from mine...) and I just overheard:

"I actually have a fair amount of coke left over from last night. Not that I'm complaining."

Well.

Clearly I should have gone, then.

I mean, unless he was talking about soda. 

Sick and Tired

I have been worried the last couple of days. I haven't said anything because I wasn't sure,but it's not that bad. He's been spending time in his box, acting sick, and now I know what's wrong.

Tree has a kitty cold. He is sniffling and sneezing and snorting all over the place. It would almost be cute if it wasn't so pathetic and sad.

Okay, maybe it's a little cute. Adorable. But mostly pathetic.

He got snot all over my comforter. And this is why I haven't gotten a new one yet.

He said no pictures.

But he is not the only one feeling a little off. Me? Well I was really hungover, and I am tired. 

I really didn't intend to be hungover. Well, I guess no one ever intends to be hungover, but when I woke up I just felt like absolute shit, and I really couldn't figure out why. I hadn't had that much to drink, although it had been all sugary...margaritas, and ill-advised Fanta.

And then someone reminded me, that around 2 or 3 in the morning, just before bed, the birthday girl stomped her feed and demanded birthday tequila shots. Her poor husband looked so broken and forlorn, begged not to, but I took mine willingly, and yet I was the one who was dead this morning. 

Luckily, all I had to do was eat pizza, watch a movie, go have lunch with my parents (salad), come home, lay in bed, be lazy, and my hangover went away.

Life is good. 

But not for poor Tree.

Cinco de Buffo

After we got our tattoos yesterday, it was time to celebrate the Birth of the Buff! We got back to their awesome house in the Valley to find The Husband setting up to throw her what turned out to be the best party ever, full of margaritas and snacks and puppies and people who love her, so basically, what more could you want?

We dined on a light salad, and a less light mini margarita, which packed enough of a punch that I passed out for an epic nap while spooning Jojo.

Bitty bottles! ALWAYS WITH THE
WRINKLE FACE.

After we napped, I ate another salad, because apparently that's all I do, then we started drinking more margaritas, and the partying began!

It was a fantastically fun evening, and a much necessary letting down of the hair, literally and metaphorically. I should straighten my hair more, I like flipping it about. It's always amazing to spend time with my ladies, and my Spanish girl was there too with her Puerto Rican lovah. Also, I talked to a boy I met last December at a party, and he remains cute and I am intrigued. And I got to see a lot of people I haven't seen since their wedding, which was really fun, and a lot of the girls I bonded with at Buff's bachelorette were there, which was so great. Also, met some of her coworkers, and it's important to meet new people! One of the girls was super sweet, and works in the area I live/work in, so that's nifty.

The pups also had a grand time, Jojo and Gracie performed quite well for the guests and played and played and played until they passed out. Frankie did very well accepting attention, even though she gets a little scared in large crowds. Of course, immediately upon entering their home she found a toy she liked, and spent most (all) of the evening guarding it from every other creature. Silly.

So all in all, I say: SUCCESS. 

Pictures.

I ended up with ALL THE PUPPIES. Oh yeah, and Drunk Me
decided Fanta sounded like a GREAT IDEA.

NO ONE MUST HAVE THE TOY.

The Husband asked if I wanted him to
take a picture, and I said I preferred
narcissistic self shots. In which I make
dumb faces.

King Tiburon sleeps.

Doodle cannot part with the toy to join the others.

As always, The Married Couple were excellent hosts. I want their house and their pets and their awesomeness.


Basically, I want to be them when I grow up. Is that okay?

Non-Denominational Festivities in Red and Green

Last night was my company's "holiday" party on Main Street in Santa Monica. Festive.

I did not want to go. But I did go, and of course I had a reasonable amount of fun. Turns out I am surprisingly skilled at flip cup, and at avoiding talking to people I don't like. Plus, I cut out before I got too drunk and saved myself from mouthing off to people.

Not pictured: hot chick bartenders in antlers.

I sort of forgot to take a picture of my outfit, the Forever 21 haul I previewed last weekend. Whoops? I promise you, I looked splendid. I have a crappy pic from a few days ago when I texted the ensemble to the BFF. (Biff? Buff? BUFFY? Bitch needs a nickname.)

Please ignore the laundry on the floor behind me kthx.

Cute, right? Clearly a color scheme I like. And I wore sheer cream tights with polka dots. One of my coworkers' girlfriend told me I looked "lovely and angelic", so I'll take that. And my boobs looked fantastic.

In other news, I slept until noon today. Reminds me of my youth.

In even BETTER news, my Bentley has been eating more normally and seems much perkier! Enough that he refused to sit still for his fluids this morning and caused them to spray all over my bed. Thanks, Cat. Thanks.

Social Flutterby

I feel weird.

I went out into the world this weekend. More than once. And had fun? 

It happens so rarely. I'm trying to process.

First there was sushi Friday out with my college roomie, and last night was the birthday party for a close friend's new boyfriend, lover, life partner, live-in concubine, manfriend etc. (What? I don't know the inner workings of their relationship, I'd hate to leave it too open to interpretation...) He turned 25 a few days ago, and the two of them just got their first real world adult jobs and an adorable apartment in South Pasadena together, so the theme was...being classy, essentially? 

Which meant lots of cute boys in suits, and a chance to wear heels.

Approved.

Didn't think to take a picture of my
ensemble...it was boring. But classy.

I drove to The Married Couple's place in Woodland Hills and the man of the house DD'd for us classy ladies, which was very much appreciated. I drank copious amounts of sangria, chatted with a hot guy in a tie, and reunited with my core group of peoples. Definitely glad I dragged my lazy, homebody ass out on the town. I crashed in the Couple's adorable guestroom, played with their pup, then drove to the office to get the last of some bullshit stupid physical labor done.

And now I'm home.

On my ass. With the cat. Social-ed out.

Fun makes me tired.