My dad's email got hacked yesterday and everyone on his contact list got a "please help me, I'm stuck in a hotel in some country ending in -stan, send money!" message. I immediately knew it was a scam, obviously - but when I called him last night he said he had received numerous calls from people asking where exactly he was and how could they wire him the money. Good lord. I can't believe people still fall for this! Granted, my dad does travel a lot internationally, so it's not the craziest notion that he would be in some -stan country - but come on people. Although my dad did admit that he would be happy to accept people's money, should they feel so inclined. Ha.
Halloween being tomorrow, it got me thinking about one of the best costumes ever:
Yes, me, my mom and my brother went as the Scorpions, a biker gang. Complete with fake tats, greaser hair (look at little Cole!) and attitude. Plus, holy 80s hair on my mom and I. I really wish I still had that denim vest with SCORPIONS in glitter on the back - you can bet your a** I would still wear it today.
...or do videos on Instagram freak anyone else out? I never expect them, and all of a sudden sound comes on and I almost drop my phone. It's like an adult version of the Jack-in-the-box. Or something less scary.
So...Rocky Horror Picture Show. Not a fan, as it turns out. It's weird and awkward and weird again. But the experience was amusing - they give out props to use during the movie: melba toast to toss when they say "I'd like to make a toast," water guns to squirt during the rainstorm, noisemakers, bubbles, etc. Plus a very awkward game at the beginning for Rocky Horror "virgins" (thank god I didn't raise my hand) in which one person had a broomstick between their legs and the other had a roll of paper towels, and the goal was to get the stick in the hole. Again, thank god I didn't raise my hand.
I will say Tim Curry makes a fairly attractive woman.
Why are my favorite yogurt flavors the ones that could never be found in nature and certainly could never be considered "healthy?" Cinnamon Roll. Spice Cake. Red Velvet Cake. White Chocolate Raspberry. Boston Cream Pie. (Are we sensing a trend here?) And for some reason, I feel it's okay, because hey - the yogurt is fat free, while Boston Cream Pie certainly isn't. But at the same time, why can't I just pick something nice like cherry.
Got home yesterday to find NINE (count em, nine) wasps in my apartment. On nice fall days, I like to leave the balcony door open for the dog, so clearly that will no longer be happening. I have never been strung by a wasp or a bee (knock on wood), but am fairly terrified of the prospect. So I freaked out and did what any clueless girl would - grabbed a bottle of 409 and a broom and started spraying/swatting/screaming at them until they were all dead or traumatized enough to get them back outside before closing the door. Good lord - by the end I was panting, sweating and exhausted. There has GOT to be a better way. (Actually, there are probably 18 better ways.)
I'm going to an 80s prom on Saturday night. I envision myself like this:
But in truth I haven't had time to buy anything, so will just have to piece something tragic together from things I already have in my closet. And honestly, this should be fairly easy. There might be a gold lame top in there somewhere. #sadbuttrue
This weekend with my mom was VERY productive. Possibly the Most Productive Weekend Ever. (And yes, I am clearly ready for the Bachelor to be back on TV.)
A sampling of what all we did:
Rotated my mattress (clearly a two-person job, if not three-person)
Bought a rug
Bought a fire pit and made a fire
Got my entire face threaded
Tightened my headboard (which I initially "installed" myself - also clearly a two-person job)
Took the dog to get a bath
Took the dog to Mutts (should have been in reverse order, but whatever)
Saw Gravity in 3D (amaze.)
Hung out with my mom's high school boyfriend (also amaze)
Went to the Arboretum
Shopped at the consignment store
Drank the punch (Donkey punch, that is)
Made my mom watch Groundhog Day for the first time
I burned onions while she made potato soup
Showed my mom that she does in fact have Facebook on her phone; helped her upload a photo for the first time
My mom convinced me to get my face threaded over the weekend. I have heard of threading for eyebrows, but not the entire face. Plus, my hair is blonde, so who cares if I have some peach fuzz on my cheek? But I agreed to try it - my mom had done it before and said it really made a difference. Ummmm BAD IDEA JEANS. From the very first second, it felt like razors are being scraped down my face. Ad it went on for an interminable 15 minutes. At first I was laughing - how could it possibly be this painful? - but then I started crying. and then I was bawling. My knuckles were white as I gripped the chair as tightly as I could. I broke into a cold sweat. I'm sure the poor ladies who we're threading our faces had never seen such a reaction. And even though my face is now as bare and soft as a baby's butt, I am also sure I will never go back.
I mentioned trying out Tinder before. I have heard from multiple sources that's it's merely a "hook-up" site, which makes it even more depressing that I haven't gotten asked out ONCE. Not once. And then this morning, while scrolling through dudes, I came across one guy whose profile picture was his penis. (Well, hopefully his - not sure why it would be someone else's...) That was a fine how-do-you-do. I almost fell off the elliptical. Needless to say I don't think we're a match. And also needless to say no more Tinder for me.
I may have watched both Grease and Grease 2 this week. And may have found myself quoting both movies in their entirety. But one thing stood out - how freaking old is Sonny? (one of the T-Birds from the original Grease, for those not as well-versed as me) He seriously looks about 45. See for yourselves:
But who cares. It's still amaze after all these years.
So Bachelor Sean Lowe is back in the news because they have set a date for the wedding - January - and of course it will be televised. He says it's so the people that watched their love blossom on the Bachelor can see it through, but of course it's because he's getting paid and they are basically getting a million dollar wedding for free. I mean, can't say I blame him...
Also, they both live (separately) in Dallas. Why have I not seen them out and about. Clearly I'm not hanging out at the right places. Or maybe I am. Ha.
I enjoy watching Katie, the Katie Couric show - but she certainly has odd mash-ups. Yesterday, for example, the first half hour was devoted to brain trauma and internal decapitation (which made me keep rubbing my neck involuntarily, btw). The second half? Scott Baio! Cue mood change and screaming 40-year-old women. Very odd, Couric. Very odd indeed.
I finally have an iPhone, and it's pretty awesome. But the most stressful part is trying to pick a freaking phone case! I have always been jealous of iPhone owners because all the cute cases never fit on any other phones, but it's a bit overwhelming. I finally settled on this Lilly Pulitzer cutie:
It's technically for the iPhone 5 and I have the 5c, but I wedged it on there and made it fit. Which means it will probably never come off.
My dog's breath is bad. It's like...dog breath. So last night I decided to Martha Stewart it up and make doggie toothpaste. Somehow I had baking soda and bouillon cubes (?!), so managed to concoct something resembling toothpaste (with brown chicken-flavored bits). Of course, I didn't think about a toothbrush, so I just used my finger. She wasn't thrilled, but wasn't completely against the idea, either. And her breath even seemed to be a bit better. Until she puked everything up this morning on the couch. Oops.
There are little things as dangerous as driving with helium balloons in the car. They bounce around, going from front seat to back seat to driver's seat, they make it nearly impossible to change lanes since you can't see out the window...
Survived a death-defying drive while just trying to bring a happy birthday balloon to a co-worker.
So I've watched a few of the new fall shows, and I have three front-runners. Which probably means they will be cancelled by November.
1. The Goldbergs. Mostly because it's set in the 80s, but it's also fairly amusing.
2. Trophy Wife. Awesome cast.
3. Super Fun Night. I didn't want to like this one, and it has the worst title ever, but it was actually pretty funny. Dangit Rebel Wilson.
A few I do NOT like:
1. Back in the Game. Why, James Caan. Why.
2. We Are Men. Why, Kal Penn. Why.
I'm sure you are waiting for a blog about my "intruder," but there's not much more to say. I have been robbed before in a previous apartment, so definitely felt safe in my new place. Until this week. It really freaked me out to find someone in my bed. (Insert single girl joke here) I knew the building was secure from outsiders getting in, but didn't think about the people on my own floor, so yes, I now lock the door every time I leave. I'm also going to buy my poor dog a life-size bone for being such a good watchdog (even though I completely disregarded her barking). As for the neighbor, he came over with his wife yesterday afternoon to apologize - I didn't want to answer the door because it was just all so mortifying, but it was very mature of him to do so. Moral of the story: Ambien and alcohol don't mix, kids!
It may be because it's October that my mind is going to scary and illogical places, but I am convinced that my dog-walker is trying to lure my dog away from me. It started innocently enough, with little gifts here and there - a sweater, some new dog treats. And last week, a mat for her food dishes that says something stupid like "Puppy Princess" or something. But yesterday, we ran into her on our walk after work, and she said "I would take her home with me right now if I could!"
And clearly it's working - Charlie totally prefers her to me, jumping into her arms and licking her face while I stand there holding her leash like a jackass. She even cried and cried when the dog-walker left yesterday, again leaving me standing there like, well, you know. Maybe I should just let them be together like they clearly desire. Or maybe I'll find a new dog-walker. One who is NOT Rebecca DeMornay.