Know Your Onion!

So I stumbled upon a delightful new blog, thanks to my Yahoo homepage.  It's called Bent Objects, and it's the hilarious and pretty imaginative art of this photographer/artist named Terry Border.  I'll share a few of his funny photos with you guys, and you should totally check out his blog!

(Some Gentlemen Prefer Blondes...Others Prefer Cupcakes, hahaha.)

(What a Jerk!!!  He kinda looks like Justin Guarini from Season One of American Idol, hahaha!!)

(Personality and Confidence Can Only Get You So Far, haha!!!)

(Damn It, Well There Goes The Neighborhood!)

Un-thinkable (I'm Ready)

So...oh my God.  Mon friggin' Dieu. 

My friend Steph signed me up for the X Factor auditions in Chicago at the end of April.  I'm excited.  And nervous.  And excited.  But mostly nervous.  I get stage fright, and I haven't really sang in front of a large group since high school, which was seven years ago (...fuck!  Hahaha.).  I do, however, don't feel too bad about the stage fright thing, because I once read that Sheryl Crow gets stage fright, and I love Sheryl Crow.  It's good to know that huge superstars get nervous too.

I think I'm going to go with "Low Road" by Grace Potter & The Nocturnals as my initial audition song.  I love it, and it shows off my voice very well.  I'm gonna have to play around with it in the upcoming weeks to make it my own and to really make the judges (especially if I make it to Simon...eeeee!!!) be like "Who is this girl and why isn't she a star?"  I'm not gonna lie, this has been a lifelong dream of mine, and life always gets in the way.  I'm putting my foot down this time and I'm going to make this dream a reality. 

Wish me luck, and I'll keep you all posted!



Call Me When You're Sober

It's Thirsty Thursday at For The Love Of Blogs, and I've decided to share a yummy-sounding recipe that I think I'm going to request on my next girls night out.  It's an adult twist on the standard kid's fare, peanut butter and jelly.  What's it called?  Peanut Butter and Jelly.  Credit goes to the amazing website, Drinks Mixer!

Peanut Butter and Jelly Shot

1 oz. Frangelico hazelnut liqueur

1 oz. black raspberry liqueur

Pour ingredients into a stainless steel shaker over ice, and shake until completely cold. Strain into an old-fashioned glass, and serve.

Business Time

(Gratuitous Plug of the Month)

My wonderful best friend DeLaina has started her own craft business, Oh Crafts!  Bows & More, and you should definitely check it out if you are A.) a girl, B.) know a girl, C.) have a daughter/stepdaughter/niece/goddaughter, or D.) like wearing bows (hey, whatever makes you happy, haha).  The stuff is cute and the prices are reasonable.  D also makes stuff upon request, and she is more than willing to personalize her wares for you or any of the little girls in your life!

Here's pictures of the awesome flower bow (she calls it the "Here Comes The Sun" flower bow) she made for adults, modelled by her beautiful and fabulous sister Destinie:

She also makes adorable little bows and flowers for little ones, and she's expanding to headbands and perhaps earrings and key chains.  Stop on by her Facebook page, and if you want, Like it...And if you really like it, buy some of the awesomeness she has for sale!!!

You Don't Have To Be A Prostitute

Hahahaha...Love Flight of the Conchords.

In other news, I'm battling my Girl Scout cookie habit.  It's an addiction.  I bought six boxes of Tagalongs from Mac the service manager's granddaughters, and I received the tiny crunchy medallions of chocolatey peanut buttery goodness on Saturday.  I already ate two boxes, and opened another tonight.  I will most likely eat the rest of the third box tonight while watching The Nanny.  I will most likely hit rock bottom when I run out...which will most likely be some time next week.  Hahaha.

Short Skirt/Long Jacket

Awesome Real Life Moment #1546512:

"And btw I am currently sitting across from a crazy drunk guy on the bus, lol.  He's wearing badass old aviators and he's got crazy hair combed back greaser style and he's lounging in his seat with an Elvis kind of smirk on his drunk face.  Classic."

(Taken from a text I sent Sunday, March 13, 2011 @ 6:00 pm)

It's 2:22 am, and I should be in bed, but let's be honest.  I'm never in bed at 2:22 am unless I have to get up at the asscrack of dawn.  Mornings are like breakup sex--they should be avoided at all costs.  I loathe and detest mornings.  Sure, they're great in theory, I'll admit that, but in practice?  No.  I can live with waking up around noon.

But I digress.  I'm not really in a funny blogging mood this week.  To be honest, Japan and work has got me down.  I can't really blog about work because you never know who might be reading my blog, but I will say that this daily tension-headache-that-morphs-into-a-terrible-migraine shit needs to stop.  One can only pop so many Excedrin in a day without overdosing and foaming at the mouth at her desk.  I'm not a rockstar yet.  I think I might try yoga or something to relax.  I also need to make time for Bessie Washington.  I'm up all damn night but I can't exactly practice Bessie at 2:22 am or my mom and dad would kill me.

And Japan?  God, everything about this past week in Japan is depressing.  Makes me want to cry.  Seriously.  I hope that we have learned that when it comes to us versus nature, nature always inevitably wins.  Technology is a moot point when it comes to the raw strength of natural disaster.  I admire the people of Japan and their ability to mainain a quiet dignity in the face of this ever-growing chaos.  My thoughts and prayers go out to the entire nation and the families affected by this tragedy.

In other news, Nicky lost one of his front teeth yesterday.  I will share a picture:

He got one dollar from the Tooth Fairy for that.  I'm at work today and my mom calls me.  Nicky lost his other front tooth today when he got home from school.  I'll post a picture of that later on.  He looks adorable.  Score one more dollar for the Nickster from the Tooth Fairy.  If he keeps this tooth losing business up, he's going to bankrupt Mom...I mean, the Tooth Fairy.  Hahaha.

The Beat Goes On

Just thought I'd share this song with you.  I'm completely in love with it right now...and Adele's voice is amazing!  Go ahead and take a listen to "Set Fire to the Rain" (taken from her new album, 21).

Meanwhile, Rick James...

(Nicky in his Nagys uniform during a tee ball game, June 2010)

So, tee ball sign-ups are this month, and I am in a bit of a philosophical pickle.

Nicky played tee ball last summer on the Nagys, and he loved the team and his coach, Mike.  I was a little unhappy with the way the team practiced, but I eventually warmed up to the idea that these were just four, five, and six year olds who were just learning the basics of the fine art of baseball.  They weren't learning to be the next A-Rod or Grady Sizemore.  They were learning to hit a ball off a tee and run to first base and not third.  I was more than psyched for this season, especially since I was keeping him on the Nagys and with Coach Mike.  Mike really had a way with the kids.  They loved him and they listened, and us parents loved him because he was patient and made practice fun.

All was well until February 10th.  Mike died suddenly of pneumonia.  It caught us all completely off guard.  He was only 30, and he didn't seem sickly or weak.  Nicky had never really been exposed to death before, and I was a little unsure as to how to tell him.  My mom and I sat him down and explained that Coach Mike had been very very sick and that he had died...I told him that he was coaching all the little angel kids in heaven.  He seemed to get it, and even now he's like "Mommy, Coach Mike is in heaven.  He died."  I was honestly surprised that a five year old could grasp the finality of death.  Part of me is still waiting for him to ask me where Mike is when the season starts.

The inevitable question of who is going to take over the coaching postition quickly takes the forefront.  Zach, Mike's nephew of indeterminable age (I think he's like 20 or 21, tops.) and even more indeterminable maturity offers to take Mike's place.  Zach was the one the kids would play with when they were supposed to be listening to Mike.  He was also completely useless when it came to getting the kids to calm down.  None of the kids took him seriously.  I thought he was a big goofball, very immature and nerdy, but not in the cool nerdy way.  He was more of the obnoxious and dumb nerdy way.  He got on my nerves.  I thought he was pretty harmless...Until he got all weird via Facebook messages when I was laid up in bed with severe tonsillitis last Thanksgiving.  He went from being concerned about me being unable to swallow to being a bit of a creeper that kept messaging me and getting weirder with each message.  I blocked him because I didn't need a puppy dog kind of kid hanging around me with a crush.  I know that sounds mean, and maybe it was, but I didn't want him to get the wrong message.  He was the assistant assistant coach of my son's tee ball team, not to mention he was kind of like a big kid himself.  No sir.

Honestly, I don't want Zach coaching my son.  He is not going to be able to control all those kids, and Nicky goes up to softball next summer (2012).  He needs to learn the basics from someone who is serious about being a coach.  I also, however, don't want to look like a gigantic bitch, especially since this kid took on the mantle of coach in lieu of his dead uncle.  I think I am going to transfer him to another team.  Nicky is okay with it--one of the perks, I guess, of being six and being resilliant.  Why the hell do I feel so bad about it when he's just like whatever?  I need to suck it up and be more like Nick.

Free Fallin'

I recently acquired a guitar (Friday), thinking that since I am of the musical sort I should procure a guitar and learn to play. You know, cultivate my talent and all that good crap. Well...I'm not gonna lie to you. It's been like four days and I really suck. I'm not sure if it's my lack of guitar knowledge or if the whole strings/chords/numbers/letters thing intimidates me, but...I'm no John Mayer, let me tell you.

I haven't had time to go purchase a guitar manual, so I purchased a fine app off iTunes called Guitar Basics for Dummies, and I'm going to tell you I learned quite a bit about guitar playing. In theory. In practice...well...let's just say I have a bit of work cut out for me. I think that with proper, uninterrupted (that means you, Nicky and Mom) practice I might be able to summit and conquer Guitar Mountain. Maybe.

I'm thinking that maybe a guitar is like a puppy. You have to get it to trust you and then assert your dominance. Well, I'm asserting myself right now. I'm the Alpha, bitch. I totally own you, guitar. Yes. I also decided that I should name said guitar, because that will make it a lot more interesting and meaningful when I get mad at it and insult its guitarhood. I named my guitar Bessie Washington. I think it fits my guitar very well.

Along with the proper guitar holding technique and learning to fret and becoming intimidated by the juxtaposition of major and minor signs and numbers and letters and chords, I've learned another important thing about myself: my fingers are little sissy bitches. Seriously. I can only play for a little while before my fingers get sore and I have to stop because I have the impressions on my fingertips from where the strings cut into my fingers. I need to figure out how to speed up the callus forming process.

I honestly can't wait to be able to play a song, and I feel like Bessie Washington and myself are about to embark on a hilarious musical journey of pain, anguish, joy, frustration, anger, and that inevitable Helen Keller aha moment where it'll all come together and I'll attain guitar enlightenment.

And the first real song I hope to play, after I get comfortable with everything? "Free Fallin'", John Mayer style. Go look up his version on YouTube and you'll be like "wow, that John Mayer is a douche, but lord can he play the guitar."

Girl Inform Me

Welcome to the 100th episode of Butterflies and Hurricanes. 

It's been quite a ride. 

I've currently acquired a creeper/stalker, I think.  I will share with you the message I got on Facebook last night from the Floridian Flasher.

March 6 at 8:40pm

Yo what's your deal ? I know u got my texts
 
Actually I did not get your texts because I blocked your number. 
 
Jesussss.  What a creeper.  Most people would have gotten the hint and rode off into the sunset.
 
(Here's to the next 100 posts being as crazy as these!)

Dirty Picture

Wow.

That's all I can say. That and I was pretty much eye raped like two hours ago. Haha, what happened, you may ask? Well friends, sit down and let me tell you a tale of complete WTF-ness and hilarity and complete creeperdom.

I was sitting there, reading an article on my MSNBC app on my iPhone. I was just scrolling through a highly informative and educational article about what is going on at the present moment in Libya (Very sad, indeed. My thoughts and prayers go out to the protesters and the people of Libya, all joking aside.), and my phone squawks at me and a picture message alert pops up. To anyone who has an iPhone, you know that the window that pops up is basically just the picture in a smaller form. I jump in surprise at the unexpected noise, and take a moment to look at the image and when I do, I'm just kind of disgusted and slightly amused.

This guy I'd been talking to before his traits of obvious creeperness had kicked in, had gotten this brilliant idea to send me a picture of him and his penis. Umm...okay. I had planned to meet up with this guy, a fairly normal individual who I knew back in the days of yore, aka high school, when he came back to Cleveland in the summer and hook up. Looking back, he had a thing with showing girls his junk back then too because I totally just remembered him doing that to me once when we were 17. Huh. Funny how I'd forgotten about that.

But anyway. I had made plans to hook up with him like three years ago, but I'd started seeing my Faux Ford Gangsta and I wanted to see where it might go. I didn't even give Señor Flasher a second thought, and three years go by. Well last Tuesday he sends me an IM on Facebook out of nowhere and we start talking and eventually texting. We get back on the topic of hooking up and I'm like yeah, sure, I'm down. All of a sudden he starts pestering me to send him naked pictures of myself, like constantly over the course of the two days we had been texting. I keep changing the subject, because I'd sent him a picture three years ago of myself and I'd made myself physically sick with worry after I'd done it.

During this entire time I start getting this queasy butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling, like something is seriously off. I finally tell him no, because I'm really uncomfortable with the idea of sending him any pictures like that. It'd be different if we were dating--we'd just started conversing for the first time in three years, and one of the first things he asked me was if my phone had video chat. Call me crazy since my warning bells went off. Well, after I tell him no, he kinda gets all pissy and throws a tantrum. His reaction makes me think that there was more to those pics than him just wanting to see me naked. He seriously gets mad at me, like I want him to beg me for the pictures or something. Nope, I don't want you to beg because I'm not taking any pictures. He was so petulant it was ridiculous. I briefly thought of a toddler not getting his way. He even sent me an indignant "Thanks" the next day, as if to try to guilt me into changing my mind.

I decided to block him from my Facebook page and consequently blocked his number from my phone. At first I wondered if I was overreacting, but I decided that most guys would not have reacted the way he did to my "no". I figured he'd be like "okay, that's cool, I completely understand"...it made me wonder how he'd react to no in other situations. It was quiet until tonight...I have to laugh at the picture message, though. It's kind of funny in a ridiculous sort of way.

He obviously figured out I blocked him, since I'm sure he tried to text me and can't see me on Facebook. It's just ridiculous that he thinks sending me a picture of his penis is going to make me want to unblock him. I'm sorry, I'm not going to forget the way he acted simply because he sent me a picture of his junk. How about sending me a picture of an apology--and I'm not accepting a naked body shot as an apology. That's like sending someone an apology card with a picture of some chick's vag on it.

Perhaps I'm overreacting, perhaps I'm not. All I know is that I deleted the picture (thank God he didn't send it when Nicky was playing Angry Birds...I think I would have unblocked him and cussed his ass out if that had happened), and I'm ignoring him until further notice. I have a little more self-respect than that, thank you.