Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Open Letter to Alberto S.

Hey Alberto.
It's me.

The real person behind the number you've been giving to all your creditors.
It seems you've really got yourself into a financial pickle.
The people from Kentucky call at least twice a day.
New Jersey also sends its love, as does Ohio and a couple other places.
I mean how many different debt sources can one person have?

I'm glad it's just my phone number and not my entire identity.
I truly am.
But all the calls are getting old.
And when I tell them I don't know you, I can hear the doubt in their voice.
Like they think I'm hiding you or something.

I think it's time you take responsibility for your life. And your finances.
Grow up already.
And get your own phone number.



2010 is the Year of The Tiger

This blog is not a tiger.

I mentally wrote a blog about how awesome vacations are. Those of you with mind reading capabilities know how awesome that blog is.

You know what law I love? The one in Oregon that prevents me from pumping my own gas. Yeah it's lazy, but you know what? It's also AMAZING.

Skiing is hard. So hard that we decided it doesn't make sense that rich people enjoy doing it so much. All of the prep and rentals and dressing and getting those ski boots on and off. I mean, I felt like I was birthing a child. Then you throw a slick mountain edged with trees into the mix? If I was rich, I would pay someone to ski and describe it in detail while holding a fan in my face so I could get the sensation. Then I would push that person down and say "Wait til your calves wake up tomorrow" as I walked away carefully sipping my piping hot (but not scalding) vanilla chai.

I mean, I can't wait to do it again.
In all honesty, I wish I could just be awesome at it already.
When at the beginning of the class I picked up random skills quickly, I told my ski instructor that Picabo Street was my sister. Unfortunately it was quickly exposed that my real sisters don't have the athletic ability of a Picabo pinkie. Well, Melody did some hurdles in high school, but that does not a Jackie Joyner Kersee make. It's like my entire immediate family was absent the day God was handing out any talent related to sports. And Matthew, winning wrestling matches by forfeiture because other schools didn't have someone small enough in the featherweight category does not count.

As a Katy Perry fan, I have a problem waking up to her doing Proactive commercials. Avril Lavigne, Jessica Simpson and Kelly Clarkson do Proactive commercials. I feel like KP is totes on another level. I simultaneously feel like if KP is using it, then I should too, because, I mean, look at her. My disappointment in her commercial choice dissipated a lil bit when KBM informed me stars get a million dollars to do it, and even Diddy's done it. Somehow that made it better.

I feel like I should check in with her twitter now. I've been so disconnected. Ok, she seems to be fine. And Taylor Swift is really enjoying Japan.

I just remembered something else to say here but now I forgot. I just looked at flights to Paris next week. Because a - it's Paris. And b - Swell Season is performing. But while I'm spontaneous, I like to think I err on the side of caution when it comes to complete financial irresponsibility, so I'm gonna hold off...

Having said that, I'm thinking about biting the (in this case v yummy) bullet and really spending some cash on a bed. I got rid of my hand me down version, which means on that day sometime soon when I open the pod, there won't be a bed in there. I've joked about wanting a Four Seasons mattress instead of an engagement ring, but now a part of me is v tempted at not waiting for some dude to buy one for me. I want an awesome bed like everyone talks about: "oh I can't wait to get home to my own bed!" A bed like that requires commitment and permanence tho, not two of my strongest personality traits. So we shall see.

Until then, I'm living on borrowed ground and counting my blessings. My taxes are done (and I came out on top), I'm sort of employed, I'm gonna see Peter Gabriel live in concert with a 52 piece's a good time to be MAB. Laissez les bonnes temps roulez. (Tiger, I'm talking to you.)