25 and I

I understand that most people who read this blog (wishful thinking?) currently check the age box 25-39, 40-59, etc. Do not scoff at the following post. Hey the riper the berry the sweeter the juice right? Te he he he! I digress…

It has recently come to my attention that I will be turning the big 2-5 in less than a month. Yeah and what’s your point? I mean based on your lack of sleep and alcohol consumption you should be glad you made it this long sister. Pipe down. I know it’s not that big of a deal, but I really can’t get past the fact that what I imagined my life would be at 25 is NOTHING like what it actually is.

Job- FOR SURE I would have a job at the age of 25. Prior to deciding to go to law school I knew for sure I would have a job. No, not serving the filet of fish…jackass. Even when I went to law school I thought I would have something lined up post-grad. A cute southern girl that didn’t get kicked out of law school, who has never been to jail [knock on wood], who doesn’t require any routine medication and who can do a meeeeeaaaannn keg stand. What’s not to like? Apparently those qualities, coupled with my undergraduate and legal schooling don't mean shiz. I should have gone to clown school. Job-1, Taylor-0.

MONEY!!!!! I got hundred dollar bills y’all! Ya- this is a nightmare topic. I figured ok, at 25 you are basically 30 right? I would have a job, and thus money. Money not in the sense of thank sweet jesus the bills are paid halleluiah the lights won’t get turned off this month, but money like let’s take a VACATION. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. This is seriously not the case. I am so broke I feel like every single dollar bill I have mocks me. IN FACT- I went to the beach on Friday and paid with a 10 dollar bill for the 6 dollar parking. The machine gave me back 1 dollar coins. Seriously? Eff you Sacajawea. Needless to say sister won’t be making it rain any time soon.

Savings-

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

A Gentleman Lovah- Ok well this one I pretty much have nailed down, but let me tell you the road to this point was a weeeeeeeeeee bit rocky- totally my fault. Law school is haaaaarrrrddd and it makes me cranky. Thankfully the bitch will not be back, sorry Elton, so I think babe and I are good. However, I thought I would be settled with my lovah by now. QUITE the opposite in fact. Brother is moving in and I am sure there is going to be a whole ‘lotta adjusting going on. This isn’t bad it’s just…not where I thought I would be. Don't get me wrong, in no way did I think I would be married  or be all fancy prancy around my big house with a white picket fence. I just thought I would be more settled? Thank God people in California can dig on Cowboy boots. Yeehaw!

So there you have it, my life in a nutshell. I have no job, I have barely enough money to survive monthly and savings is a foreign word. Tay don’t worry you have your entire life ahead of you! Yeah to pay off my debt and live like a frat boy. Ok seriously this pessimistic thing is getting old- there are starving children in Africa. Yeah, and I thought at this age I could actually help them. Sadly, I gots’ no monies. Now I’m seriously considering giving everything up and joining the ranks of shopping-cart all star. You seriously have a stick up your ass. What’s wrong with you? Alright, Alright at the end of the day I have a great apartment, a great education, and my gas, water and electricity are currently on. MOST importantly, I still have enough disposable income to invite my friend two buck chuck over. He understands my pain. Its official- you are a lost cause. Agreed.

25-1, Taylor-0.

Driving to Work, Taylor Style

I think I need to become city manager. Either that or I need to find the person who decides when and where city maintenance takes place. Allow me to explain…

I, as well as thousands of other Santa Monica/Los Angeles residents, use Wilshire to get onto the 405. The on ramp is right by my apartment, so usually this takes me about five minutes. I pulled out of my driveway this morning and noticed traffic. What the EFF is this shiz?!?!?! I was on the phone with the bf, and I could hear him cringe the second I said the dreaded T word. Note about Tay: sister does NOT do well with traffic. Imagine a two year old running on two days with no sleep. crankAY. “BAAAAAAAAAABE!  What in the world is going on heeerrrrruuuuuuhhhhh?!?!?!?”

 My first thoughts: maybe it was a wreck? Maybe one of the busses is taking up two lanes? You know, the big ones that area really two busses connected by a giant-sized accordion. Perhaps there is an unusually large bird on the side of the road and everyone haaaaad to stop and look at it? Wrong, wrong and WRONG. Fifteen minutes later blood boiling when I finally got to the onramp I found my answer….TREE TRIMMERS.

I know- you are thinking Tay, pipe down, it’s not a big deal. UM it is when they are dangling from the tree like effing monkeys rather than actually trimming the tree. Seriously! The three jokers were suspended in the air, swinging with the greatest of ease. If you want to dangle from a tall object, join the effing circus. I couldn’t decide what I was more upset about- the fact that these jokers were performing a circus act rather than doing their job, or that someone had actually authorized two entire lanes of traffic to be closed during rush hour. NONE of the equipment was on the actual road- everything was nicely contained on the median. Why were the lanes closed? There is no way in hell a branch was going to fall because the ding-bats in the air weren’t actually cutting anything! Perhaps a leaf might fall?

CRISIS!!!!!!!! HEAVEN FORBID A LEAF MIGHT FIND ITS WAY OFF OF THE TREE ONTO MY CAR. You have GOT to be kidding.

Resisting every single urge in my body to honk and/or roll down the window and scream obscenities, I refrained. I’m a lady y’all.  Going back to what I said earlier, I honestly think that 80% of the traffic in LA is due to rubber necking. I mean ok, I get it. Some douche crashed his Bentley and we all want to see it. Right. However, the following scenarios do NOT warrant deceleration.  (I have witnessed ALL of these)

1.       Animals mating/dancing/being generally unusual on the railing on the freeway. (go sit at the beach for ten minutes, you will get your show. Or, watch the discovery channel, they show weird stuff like this 24/7.)

2.       A cop giving a traffic citation. (yes, I understand you are happy that it isn’t you. However let’s not make ourselves late staring at the poor ‘ole chap.)

3.       Inmates picking up trash on the side of the road. (you want that fool to hop in your car? Me thinks not. Get on with it.)

4.       A homeless person walking on the side of the freeway. (yes it sucks, but there are homeless people all over the place for your gazing pleasure. Feel bad? Throw some change their way at your next STOP LIGHT.)

5.        Construction. (ok seriously- this really gets me riled up. why in GODS NAME would you want to stare at the construction, thus making the already unbearable traffic WORSE. You do realize that LA= traffic. Construction= more traffic. Staring at the construction in the LA traffic= IMMA KICK ‘YO ASS.)

Phew! That felt good to get off of my chest. I arrive at work generally unscathed, and only 10 min late. I guess I will trade the 10 min for a good blog idea. HOWEVER, no more of this city maintenance during rush hour nonsense. Unless… it is absolutely necessary, a.k.a. someone is actually doing their job. Seeing as I am going to be unemployed soon, perhaps I should apply? Taylor the tree trimmer. Sounds fitting. Until next time. ..

Is the Gym That-a-Way?

I apologize for the lag in blog time- sister has been busy and has not been feelin’ well. However, as it is Friday, I dare not disappoint. Thankfully, my new gym provides amazing content. Here we go…

If you know me at all you know I am about three steps away from pitching a tent so I can be closer to the gym. I am one of those weirdos who actually enjoys going to the gym. In fact, I get seriously cranky when I don’t go.

Cranky: See picking fights with the bf for no reason; see also unnecessarily complaining about being fat. [This is after ONE day people. I have no clue how babe puts up with me]

For the past year or so I have gone to a gym that is very close to my apartment. Its large, has free parking, a pool and sauna, lots of room and great group classes. [I’m a spinning MACHINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] So, when my gym CLOSED FOR FIVE MONTHS for renovations- you can guess my reaction.

Despair 

Denial

Anger

WHAT THE…

Yeah- it was bad. Thankfully I found a new gym that is even closer to my apartment that actually costs less. This is great… but it comes with a price. The new gym, that I shall not name, is a bit...dirty. The people are…eclectic. I am all for a big ass melting pot of people, but at the gym this type of mix can get dicey.(I will save the dirty gym blog for another time). Although the gym is dirty, it provides all that I need to exercise and more. My gym provides ENTERTAINMENT! Allow me to explain.

Gym preview: The gym opens at five to a looooooooong line of, I kid you not, senior citizens. Those toothless mamma-jamma's cannot wait to get into the gym. The anticipation… and the doors open…and they rush in…

to sit on the stationary bike pedaling at .1 miles an hour.

Someone please explain this to me. I told this to the bf the other day: I just don’t get it, but I guess when I get old I will go to the gym and walk or something so that I can work out my joints.  Response, "Babe, let’s not talk about the days when we will have janky joints. I know you are a planner, but come on." Point babe.

Once inside the gym, things look ‘aaight. There are plenty of machines, a pool, a running track and group classrooms. I get there around 5:10 in the morning [I told you, I’m insane] and my favorite thing to do is look for When. Not at typo- the dudes name is When. EVERY SINGLE DAY When wears: a Hawaiian shirt, neon sweat pants, mismatching socks and tie-dye crocs. Who the hell would by a tie-dye crock?!?!?  Not only does he look insanely amusing, but he is one of those people that never uses the machines the way they were intended to be used: the leg press is to be used with your hands, the pull up bar is to hang from your knees and benches in the weight room are for lounging. The guy is like a human fruit bat.

The thing that I actually like about the gym is that there are very few women there. Yeah, yeah yeah, not for the reasons you think. Most of the men there are middle aged and in incredible shape, like my dad. (yay dad!) I like to watch what they do with free weights sometimes to get ideas, (I hate my arms)... Ok that’s true- but the reeeeaalll reason I like the men is to hear their conversations.

[ACTUAL CONVERSATIONS- NO, SERIOUSLY.]

“Hey Jon- did you remember to bring your gloves today?”

“Oh shit I forgot them- check up your ass!!”

“I told Nancy we should never have girls. This jackass came over and wanted to take Sarah out. His pants were so low I went into the closet and got him a belt of mine. Sarah was pissed, but I don’t give a F***. My daughter isn’t dating a douche who shows his ass crack.”

“Hey Sam, how’s the Rogaine going? Hahahahaha”

“Shut up- who cares that I use Rogaine? That shit works. It’s like the commercial- I use it and get ass every time.”

If anyone reading has ever needed inspiration for a script or if you just want to be entertained, come to my gym. Come early and we can wait outside with all of the Q-tips.[old people with white hair. te-hehe] When the gym opens we can go visit When, and  then be entertained by a sea of middle aged men!

Aside from it being entertaining, have I mentioned I’ve lost five pounds since going to the new gym? Yeah, laughing your ass off. heh heh. 

HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND! 

Block PartAy

I had every intention of posting a blog this weekend, for your reading pleasure, but my weekend got in the way. I woke up Saturday morning convinced that I had been hit by a truck. I officially diagnosed myself with a swollen head as a result of an already large brain colliding with a semi. Unfortunately, my diagnosis was incorrect. The truck scenario really was the result of a block party. Yes, you heard correctly, a block party.

My block is diverse, to say the least. (See blog post below) As you know, I LOVE my block. I love the people, the neighborhood and the… um, the “experiences.” Friday after washing my car I took Dot for a walk. Low and behold a large group had formed in the neighboring complex. PARTAY!!! I walked with neighbor Mark to Vonns in order to buy supplies- booze, charcoal etc. We grilled cheeseburgers, drank wine and listened to the hilarious ranting and raving of our neighborhood drunk.

I don’t remember why, but at some point my friend Brian brought up his cooking blog. Oh em gee I have a blog too! Its really funny (I hope) –  yall should read it! Not more than two seconds later, Brian comes back with his guitar and his computer.

“Taylor this blog is really good! This is one is really funny- the stoner, the drunk… wait a minute. You didn’t write this about us did you?”

MOTHER. OF. GOD.

I knew that this was going to happen, but I wasn’t prepared to address the masses. “Um, no, of course not. I’ve lived a lot of places and met a ton of people. I just thought this was funny- you know every block has a stoner and a drunk!” I always have nightmares that someone is going to break into my apartment. If I disappear soon- you know who it was. The drunk and or the stoner.

The problem is that, sure, some of the descriptions were a bit crass but they were FUNNY! I wrote them to make people laugh, not to provide some sort of bitchy rant about the people I encounter and their flaws. Thankfully I was able to divert their attention to other posts yes, I really do want a pogo stick. No I’m not too big for it...jackass.

A cheeseburger, and a BOTTLE of wine later, it was probably time to throw in the towel. Of course I didn’t go home- have we met? Anywho- Brian and Todd had their guitars. It was time to do some jamming.

Editors Note: I LOVE to sing- I sing in the car, I sing in the shower, I sing in my living room etc. I shoulda been on American Idol yall… BUT I hate singing in front of others. I had no problem with it in High School and College- when I was actively in choir and practicing my craft (tehehe my craft), but I am pretty sure I am rusty. Well, apparently Charles Shaw disagrees with me. Charles told me to suggest song #41 (Dave Mathews- uh-mazing). You know what… I wasn’t that bad!!!

Wasn’t that bad: See: bottle of wine consumption; see also: I’m the shit yall.

All in all it was a fabulous night. I really love that I can hang out unplanned with all of my neighbors. I mean the age range between us is from 19-60. How awesome is that? After about an hour of singing, and moooooooore drinking it  was time to throw in the towel.  As I started to leave, my friend the drunk followed me and said:

“I really am a fan of the blog, and you in general. I have a suggestion- why don’t you add to the list of characters the bitch who thinks she can sing…” (wink wink).

Well played sir, well played. Although it was said in jest I think the old man’s still got it. Until next time… 

My Cheap Ass Genie

Sometimes I can’t sleep at night. Ok- well most times I can’t sleep at night. I stay awake obsessing about my student loans, stressing about my lack of a post-grad job and fretting about whether or not the bf is going to like living in LA. Also, I share my bed with a tiny bed-hogging COW, so that creates problems as well.

Therefore at night I day dream- night dream? - about what would happen if I had three wishes. Don't judge- you know you have thought about it too... Oddly enough, my wishes are always the same. First, I would like to become fluent in Spanish. I currently speak “white people Spanish,” which works, but it’s not ideal. Second, I would like to have a better body. Yeah yeah yeah every girl wants this, I know. However I bust my ASS daily (waking up at 445 am and going to the gym SIX days a week), and I still am not happy with the ‘ole bod. I think I could dig on Brooke Burke’s body, minus the big boobs- all you need is a handful right? (sorry dad)

So- speakin’ the Spanish with my bangin new bod, I would wish for…. ONE MILLION DOLLARS. For some reason in my dream the genie is a cheap ass and won’t let me have more than one mil. Something about the IRS, taxes, losing his lamp privileges. Who knows. I realize that 1 million bucks really isnt’t that much money… but I can’t change my dreams people!  Anywho- I want a mil. The first thing I would do is pay off my credit card debt and student loans. I can FEEL my credit score getting higher. WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!! But then what? I mean sure, I would go buy an unnecessarily expensive purse and probably take a vacation, but then what?

               

Unnecessarily expensive purse: See Marc Jacobs, Louis Vuitton or Prada; See also Fendi, Miu Miu or Chanel.

That’s it. The dream always ends there. I have the bod, the Spanish and no loans- but I never spend the rest of the money. Clearly my dream self and my real self have not met. In real life, I honestly would pay off my debt and put the rest in savings and or investments, and spend a little but my dream self would SPEND ‘DAT MONEY!!! (sorry dad)

Today in class at home, I pondered what I would buy.  I am VERY TYPE A (shocking right) and my days are pretty regimented. Up at 445, gym until 645, work and or class from 830-5, homework/tv and cooking/boozing until 930or 10. Rinse, lather, repeat. (Shit I’m boring- I promise my weekends are waaaaaaay more fun). I really don’t shop very often. Truth be told, the bulk of my money is spent on food/drink out with friends. 1 million bucks of food and drink? NOT A GOOD LOOK. (oink) maybe I could go on that show Heavy afterward- that might be cool! NOT.  

Random thoughts-

 Maybe I can give some to the bf and he can guy another gun or something? HELL NO- I promise, if you knew how many guns he had you would agree with me here. Also, guns = dead animals that he will want to hang on my walls. Oh no he didn’t. 

Maybe I could buy a bigger house? Earth to Taylor- you don’t even have a job yet. Lets not put down roots when you may have to ditch all of your shit for a neon shopping cart. Ya dig?

I could donate some of it? Yeah sure, donate it. Just make sure that you stop by and visit all of the dogs (I would FOR SURE give to the SPCA) while you are wandering around town with your shopping cart. 

What about clothes? You will need clothes with your new body! True- a few items of clothing would be fabulous. Make sure that you buy a few suits in the extremely unlikely event you get a job. Also make sure you have warm clothing, layers etc. See neon shopping cart.

So there you have it- I got nothing. I don’t need a new car, I won’t have any debt in my dream, I sure as hell don’t/won’t have kids to take care of thank you Ortho Tri-Cyclen (sorry dad).  There are only three things that I am FOR SURE going to buy:

1. laker tickets (Meeting Jack Nicholson is on my bucket list- and I LOVE me some lake show)

2.  a golf cart (I have no reason for this, I just want one)

3. a pogo stick ( I seriously loved that thing)

Any ideas on how I should spend the rest of the monies?!