Archive for January, 2011

Days Twenty-seven Through Thirty

THAT’S RIGHT FUCKERS! TODAY is Day 30. And if I sound smug, I fucking deserve to. YOU did not give up alcohol (or anything for that matter) for 30 days. And no the fact that you haven’t had sex in 30+ days doesn’t count. You didn’t give up sex,  you gave up on yourself. Look at you. Seriously. Get your shit together.

Anyway, yes I made it all 30 damned days. This last weekend was the toughest. Friday we went bowling and then I watched the boys kill zombies and suck at COD Black Ops. Saturday, we went to Ground Kontrol where I sucked at Dig Dug. Repeatedly. If you have not been to Ground Kontrol,  you need to know  your life pretty much sucks. Arcade games + beer + DJ + contact high from the hippies = AWESOME.

Ground Kontrol’s permanent site is being remodeled so they are temporarily around the corner right across the street from Caberet. Naturally we had to drop in. People, there is a reason you are shit-faced when you go into a tittie bar. Oh my lord. Someone either did a Charlie Sheen amount of coke in the ladies or decided to attempt her own abortion. Either way someone was down a few pints and probably in need of some medical attention. Also, because the bathroom is so fucked-up, the talent just plops their bare asses down on a stool at the bar to shimmy back into their slut wear, since balancing on those shoes, clutching your bag of ones and coke, while slamming your drink is obviously much too complicated without a chair for support. It was the most surreal strip club experience ever and I’ve been kicked out of the Dancin’ Bare sober so you know that’s saying something. After all of that, a local Taco Bell was relieved of a party pack and more zombies had their heads blown off.

Was the 30 Days worth it? Fuck no, single dumbest thing I’ve ever agreed to in my life, especially since the original instigator of this whole endeavor folded like a house of cards and the another never ever tried.  Ladies, you know who you are.

That having been said, I have some difficult decisions to make. Where are we going tomorrow to end this bullshit the right way, and what will my first drink be? I’m taking suggestions!


Day OMFG Are We There Yet?! Aka: Day Twenty-six

I feel like I’m dragging myself across the finish line at this point. I am actually depressed that I have one more weekend of suck ahead of me. Seriously, how can it not be thirty damned days yet? I think someone has fucked with all of my calendars. It sure as hell feels like thirty days. No, it feels longer.

I still have this talent show looming over my head and zero motivation to tackle it. Sure I’ve got a list of acts, and hell yes one of them includes a cow bell! Oh and I managed to secure another master of ceremonies since my first mc unexpectedly exited the company, but that’s it so far, no plan, no organization. I know a glass of wine will spark some out of the box thinking, oh let’s be honest, at this point half a glass of wine will do it. See also: light weight; cheap date. Fortunately I’ll be have access to liquid creativity in plenty of time to come up with all sorts of lunatic ideas. My team will hate next week guaranteed! I can’t wait!

Things My Teeth and Tongue Assaulted:
Strawberry, pineapple, spinach smoothie – don’t let the color fool you, it’s yummy.
Greek yogurt w/fresh raspberries and Truvia – Plain yogurt is the devil’s splooge. Stay away from it. The raspberries mixed in were not enough to cover up the nastiness. I had to add half a packet of Truvia that I swiped from a co-worker in a fit of desperation.
blueberries – nom nom nom
Sandwich thin w/shrimp, mozzarella, alfalfa sprouts and black pepper – One of my most favorites sandwiches on the planet.
European Milk & Dark Chocolate Cookies

Day Twenty-five


Tonight was the LAST of the lame Happy Hour Hot Topics. Well at least from the perspective of not drinking that is. Shut  up. Being and advice column is hard. Good group, mostly. We hit The Quay again, because damn if they don’t have an awesome happy hour menu. The grilled artichoke and the Asian salad are my all time favorites. Stay away from the cheese plate though, it’s pathetic.

I have one more weekend to survive. I’m thinking monster trucks or bowling. Does anyone know if there is a monster truck show? Because tube tops and mullets are always funny even without beer. And people, when I say bowling I’m not talking Big Al’s because there is no way I’m going within 100 feet of that brat trap without alcohol, I won’t even link to it without alcohol! Nope I’m talking real bowling at Hazel Dell Lanes bitches. Whoop whoop! Who’s with me?

On a brighter note, the chances of me slicing your throat for breathing to loudly are diminished slightly by the re-introduction of food I can chew. The Master Cleanse is over. Was it worth it? Meh, if I had it to do over again, I would’ve started with that on the 2nd instead of that bullshit Whole30 then ate really clean for the rest of the time. Since I had already cut out dairy, flour, sugar, taste, enjoyment out of my diet before starting the cleanse, I don’t think the impact was as great.

Things I chewed today:
Chicken and black beans from Chevy’s
Asian salad
Sweet potato fries
a pickle

Day Twenty-four

I was told today I dress inappropriately at work. Apparently my outfit yesterday was “distracting”. People, I had on a black turtle neck sweater, grey skirt, opaque black tights and heels.  My turtle neck was far from tight, my skirt wasn’t short although the bottom layer was black so against the tights it may have appeared shorter that it was, and my heels were far from knock-me-down-and-fuck me height.  The only thing exposed besides my face was my hands. GASP!

It’s maddening! I wouldn’t take issue with a dress code if it was applied to everyone. There is an obese woman who wears a pair of black pants with a run in the back at least twice a week.  Another woman dresses like a bag lady and comes to work with wet hair, one guy wears a nylon tee-shirt to work weekly and don’t even get me started about the lady that has a camel toe every fucking Friday!  And yet, my outfits are inappropriate. It’s like I’m in a twilight zone episode.

Either I’m having a drink or someone is getting stabbed and since I’m determined to make it to 30 days without alcohol, looks like I’m going to needs some help cleaning up and an alibi.

Seven. More. Days.

Day Twenty-three

This was a really dumb time to give up drinking. Not like there is ever a good time, except pregnancy maybe. But my timing was über bad. In two weeks all of the field people from The Job will descend on Vancouver for a three-day company love-in complete with a casino night and talent show.

Guess who’s has two thumbs and is in charge of the talent show >>this girl<<. Guess who lacks the creativity required to pull off a talent show without a glass of wine during planning sessions? Same girl. Not to mention, my favoritest talent show committee member won’t be here for the love-in. And one team member makes me want to drive nails in my eyes and ears. And since I cannot drink wine to numb the heat from that special hell, the nails are sounding like an excellent alternative right now.

 Speaking of bad timing, as of February 1st I will be a Light Weight. Excellent planning going into the Super Bowl and this company love-in. I am not smart. I should probably not drink at all. I will probably not take my own advice and do it anyway. Idiot. In other news, it has become obvious to me that the need to lose weight was not in my head. I have dropped what I consider a milestone amount of weight and it has gone completely unnoticed by anyone with opposable thumbs. So the quest continues until I require an entire new wardrobe. 

P.S. The cleanse still sucks.

Days Twenty-one and Twenty-two

Today is a combined post because what can really be said about another weekend of not drinking? February 1st is so close I can smell it!


Saturday I put in 2 hours on the elliptical. Why? No damned idea, it was there, I was there, it just happened (man how my Saturday’s have changed; that sounds more like something I would say about a random hook-up than a day at the gym). Speaking of the gym, people who fart at the gym are shitbags. I’m huffing and puffing away on an elliptical gasping for air and the fat guy shuffling along on the treadmill watching Empire Strikes Back on his DVD player (tears ass. I can only assume it was him because he was the only person in a 10 foot radius of me. I have never wanted to trip someone so hard in my life!

That night we headed to the Main Event, ohhhhhh how I wanted to dip my face in a plate of their Truffle Fries. But I drank hot water with lemon while we mocked a group of 21 year olds out celebrating a birthday party and discussed the topic of Donkey Shows in-depth. Then we went and saw The Dilemma; it was good, different from what I expected. See it on a Tuesday when tickets are $5.

Sunday I reunited with my pal the elliptical for an hour and then joined the boys for football. While they were lecherous traitors and ate a delivery pizza, I drank hot water with lemon and searched for a new hair style and color. I know how to live don’t I?

I did manage to surf the web for a bit of food porn:

Ravioli with Balsamic Browned Butter

Asian Shrimp, Pineapple and Peanut Salad

Day Twenty

Ten days left. Can you stand it?! Only one more weekend. Wanna hear something crazy? Since the 30th day will be a Tuesday…I may go thirty-one days and just pop my cherry at HHHT the next day. I told you it was crazy. I’m not promising that or anything, but that may be how it goes down.

Still doing the Master Cleanse which I will not discuss for fear of jinxing myself. I am also still lusting after some delicious delicious foods.  I’m over the cheese smut from yesterday and have moved into a different realm, behold my latest collection of Food Porn!

Endive, Pear and Roquefort Salad

Smoothies! (Except the date one, yuck)

Braised Short Ribs

Mixed Lettuces with Grapefruit, Goat Cheese and Black Pepper 

Filet au Poivre