I have two posts I want to write. I want to write about how as I get older I choose my friends based on common interests (read alcohol) and I have a hard time being friends with people from 10 years ago that I have nothing in common with. Because the only reason we’re supposed to be friends is because we were friends years ago?

I want to write about how I hate liars. Especially when it is the last person on Earth that you thought would lie to you. And that person doesn’t even get why it is a big deal.

But instead of writing about those things, I’m going to write about my toothache. Because it is all I can think of. And I haven’t figure out if the pain in my head is all from my tooth, or if someone blindsided me and whacked me in the side of the head with a lead pipe in the conservatory. It had to be Col. Mustard. Or that shady Professor Plum.

So I’m having a root canal on Thursday. Because that’s the only day they can do root canals. Apparently it is dental law. I happen to have this Thursday off. Can you think of any better way to spend your day off? Because I can’t.

I had a root canal when I was younger. About 20 years ago. It was the only time I ever cried at the dentist. They stuck a shot of Novocaine right into the nerve and I felt it in my toes. It rocked me to my soul. And hurt like a son of a bitch. And I have a high threshold of pain.

This current tooth has been bothering me since early November. I was in there right before Thanksgiving to have my dentist put some filling stuff on the outside, thinking the exposed root was causing the problems.

It wasn’t.

My tooth has been getting progressively worse since Thanksgiving. It alternates between stabbing pain and throbbing. In the last week, I’ve been consistently popping four Advil every four hours. And lest I forget to take them, the throbbing and the stabbing reminds me. It even wakes me up. So it is time to get this shit taken care of.

But I am freaked the fuck out. The pain the last time I had this done was out of control. And I don’t really want to go through that again. I’m assuming that things have changed in the last 20 years and that maybe they don’t have to stab you right in the nerve to get you numbed up completely. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to it any more. That and it isn’t cheap to have this shit done to your teeth, even with insurance.

So in the meantime, I’ve lost my appetite because my stomach is full of ibuprofen. And probably small pieces of my stomach lining. Well that’s one way to lose the baby burrito weight.

Can I pass this off as a new fashion trend at work?

And now I just sit and wait and watch my stats because I’m freaking paranoid that I’m going to get in trouble. Even though I’m not even sure what kind of trouble I could even get in. Since I don’t WORK THERE ANYMORE.

But I had a Google search for “kristabella & slalom consulting” so I’m hoping that was my mom or someone thinking “what happens when you?Google the two?” Because otherwise it would be weird. Seeing as slalom hasn’t been searched in quite some time on here.

Again, I don’t work there anymore. So whatever. Bring it on!

***

So have you guys heard about Secret Blogger Santa? Look to your right. On the sidebar. L Sass?and RA are teaming up to do this really fun Secret Santa thing for bloggers. Click the button or the above link to find out more. You have to sign up by this Friday.

It’s gifts people. Who doesn’t like gifts?

***

Also, Katie told me about a blogger ornament exchange. So hey! More gifts! And more new bloggers to meet. It’s a win-win.

Although that would mean I would have to get a tree this year. And it sucks to carry that sappy mess up three-flights of stairs. I wonder if any of my friends that live near by would be willing to help? Anyone?

***

So the other day Zoot?was talking about web hosting and what not. And it got me to thinking. Since I hope to someday rule the blogging world (not really), there is a possibility that I may want to have my site somewhere else. Or not have the .wordpress in the address. You know, like my own home.

(None of this is true. I just wonder about these things and try and pretend I’m all tech saavy and try to sound like I know what the hell I’m talking about, when in reality? I have no idea what I’m talking about.)

So I went online to register www.kristabella.com. Early bird gets the worm and all that. But you know what? It turns out someone else has beat me to it. Some chick in Montana, apparently. And she’s got the .org and .net ones too. The worst part is that she isn’t using them. She’s been paying $10 a year or whatever on all those domains and NOT using them. Why would you do that? Why? Is this how things are done in Montana?

Supposedly I can backorder them, for like when they come up for renewal and she may decide that the REAL Kristabella should get to use her domain name, and like for reals use it. And?in that case, they’ll try and nab it for me. It expires in August of next year. But seeing as she’s had this registered since 03? I don’t think she’s going anywhere.

Maybe I could bully her? She’d probably have a steep price. And since she’s in Montana, she’s probably all fit and strong and would hog-tie me to a tree or something.

So I’m wondering, what would a good alternative be? I could have kristabellablog.com. Or kristabellaonline.com. Or THEkristabella.com. Or fullofsnark.com. Or I could have .tv or .biz or .us. But I have no idea. I just wish bitch in Montana would do something with her sites. Seriously. Oh, and hi girl in Montana! I’m just asking for one. You don’t need .com, .org AND .net. Am not picky. Either that or earn your damn $10 a month.

God, that’s like worse than someone who pays $64 a month for a gym membership and never actually goes to the gym.

Not that I know anyone like that.

So what would you pick if you were me?

My brain has produced nothing. I even saw a naked man, with a monkey on his shoulder, crossing the street on a tandem bicycle with a clown, and all I could muster was “meh. I need to clean my bathroom.”

Part of me thinks I’m coming down with some sort of Ebola virus of some sort. Because I’m just so damn tired this week. So either I’m always this tired and laptop gives me energy and makes me Fight the Sleep, or something is up.

Or maybe it is because it is literally 127 degrees in the office. All day long. And fuck yeah, that would make a person tired. If I go to get something off the printer, I’m sweating. Type three sentences? Sweating. Inhale for a nanosecond too long? Sweating! Like a fat kid on a treadmill.

And you know what comes with The Hot and The Sweating? Crankiness. We’re ALL CRANKY! STEP THE FUCK OFF!

*Ahem*

I would like to point out that today was like the first real fall day we’ve had this year. It was in the 50s and windy. Just like it is supposed to be in late October. The rest of the week? Warm. For cripe’s sake, it was 80 on Sunday. On October 21 in Chicago, it was 80. Degrees. Fahrenheit.

So hey! Maintenance people? The heat? NOT necessary. Save the Earth and all that. Go green!

But I’ve decided that since my new company was just bought out recently, the new owners are sweating us out. Only the strong survive! If you can’t take the heat, get out of the cubicle! And other cliches that would work here!

So between that and the asshat I have to deal with at the hotel for our sales conference next week (I got him taken off our account. I rule!), I’m just tired. And so uncreative. And just meh.

Or I’m just saving all the good stuff for November. Because I have to write every day. EVERY. DAY. Do you know how many days that is? The pressure!

No. Don’t get your hopes up.

And finally, reason why you shouldn’t leave your camera within easy access of your drunk friend after you both tied one on at book club. Since obviously she isn’t your real friend. Since she’d take such unflattering pictures of you. And also? Drinking that much red wine just makes it look like a cat shit in your mouth, jackass.

Get some damn sleep. And stop DRINKING, you damn moron.

I kid. Because I am not important. And really, do you care if I don’t post every day? Especially when the last two days involved me drinking and now me posting with a lot of misspellings? That I just have to go back and catch later. Otr maybe I’ll just leabve them. Like that one there. Because me plus booze equls fat fingers. And a bad sense of spelling and grammar. Heee. Heee.

So what did you do Monday night? Because I? Had dinner with this guy.

We totally perfected the Paso Doble.

And for those of you who aren’t aware, when celebrities are asked to “appear” at events for large sums of money, free booze is involved. And we all know how that ends. If I’m there.

Oh, and I also met Cheryl Burke. Which I WILL have a photo of. If the guy ever sends me the picture. (And P.S. she is just as beautiful in person and the nicest person ever! And she drinks the alcohol. So me likey.)

And I’ll just share with you the?fact that I made?a huge ass of myself. May have said “Jerry Rice, Shmerry Rice” to her. Because really? I already knew Jerry. She’s new celebrity that I can make an ass of myself in front of. And Cheryl? Don’t mind the purple teeth from the red wine. Totally NORMAL.

For alcoholics.

Anyway, tonight I went to a jewelry party. Which was at a bar. Which had ALCOHOL. Which I naturally consumed. Which accounts for the fat fingers. And lack of coherent thought. (Um, dudes, I may be drunk, but I totally just used coherent in a sentence. And in the right context. Me? I’m with the ruling! Because I rule! With the ruling! See? Drunk.)

So yeah, the highlight of tonight is that I bought a lot of jewelry, drank a lot of wine and still managed to post. Because the people need to know. That I didn’t get captured by the government for hating the national anthem. Or that I’m not lying in a gutter somewhere. Or that I ran away with Cheryl Burke and got married!

OK. I’m going to bed. Because no one needs this. ANY of this.

Because apparently I’ve gone all gangsta rap on yo asses up in my hizzy. Fo sho.

GO CUBS GO!

In the middle of the night I had this awesome idea for a post. (I keep a notepad by my bed for just these reasons. You’d be surprised how often it happens. Genius comes to me while sleeping.) But I stupidly thought in my sleepy haze that I would remember. I didn’t. And therefore, you’re stuck with this crap.

GO CUBS GO!

I actually got my first bikini wax on Saturday morning. And was thinking “great post idea” because just think of the pain and have you seen 40 Year Old Virgin? Think of the profanities I can spew? Hilarity. Likely to ensue.

But guess what? It wasn’t that bad. I took some Advil before I went, which I’m sure helped. And yes, getting hair ripped out by the root on ANY part of your body isn’t pleasant, but I never felt the need to yell KELLY CLARKSON! In fact, I had a lovely conversation with my waxing lady (who also does my eyebrows) and she wants to join my book club. Because she saw the bruise. From the fall. And apparently bruise + wine + me falling = something she wants to be a part of. She’s a smart lady.

But she’s seen my va-jay-jay. So we’ll see.

GO CUBS GO!

And then I got my hair done on Saturday too. I’m still a brunette. And I have the same cut. It’s just darker than it had been because did you know color fades? And my natural color isn’t nearly as dark and shiny. It’s brown and blah. New, darker color is much better. See?

Notice the frightened look in my eyes. This is from the combination of stretching your arm far enough to get your whole head in the photo, not dipping your chin too much to show people how fat and how many chins you indeed have, and just the shear stupidity of taking this many photos of yourself with brown hair. Self is fed up with my self.

GO CUBS GO!

Saturday night I went to dinner and for drinks with Schwerer. We had bison burgers. Yes, burgers made out of bison. Did you even know?

And did you also know that bison is like better for you than beef? It’s got like 2 grams of fat and NO cholesterol. And tastes better than beef. But it is really expensive. Because everything that is healthy always costs more. And we wonder why America is so damn obese.

Schwerer and I headed back to the dive bar from 2 months ago (oddly the last time I got my hair did) to play trivia after dinner last night. Because, well, we had way too much fun the last time. And 32-ounce beers are $4. Which is really the draw.

It being college football night, there were some semi-normal people there. And the Trivia Freaks were not there. Which meant that I won like every game. Because I rule and shit.

The highlight was the fact that two dudes got in a fight. And only one of them got kicked out. Because he was little. And picked a fight with a big, big man. And then 20 minutes later? He came back in. To get another piece of the big, big man. And again got the boot. But not before the bartender gave him a beer. Because clearly picking a fight with a big, big man totally equates to being completely sober and in need of more to drink.

This little guy? The fighter? The idiot? Yeah, he’s the one who hit on me.

GO CUBS GO!

So remember how I’m “on” Weight Watchers? The Weight Watchers where I continue to eat crap and drink like a fish with the hopes that the pounds will just up and melt away? Well, yeah. It doesn’t so much work like that. (Crazy, I know.) And basically I’ve put on more than I’ve lost. But at weigh-in this morning, I did lose a few pounds. Which has me almost back to where I was a month ago. Like when I STARTED.

But I have decided that I’m FINALLY going to be good. And I’m going to eat well. And try to work out. And stop eating crap and drinking like it’s my damn job. So we’ll see if it pays off. Because Michelle and I agreed that there will be public stonings if we fall off the wagon. And I bruise easily.

GO CUBS GO!

See my new button in my sidebar there on the right? You’ve been warned, lurkers. The time is now (well, Wednesday) to start commenting. I know you’re out there. My comment to visitor ratio is quite low.

And if you don’t? Well, nothing will happen. BUT! You’ll have to sleep at night knowing you’re a mofo. And you don’t want that on your conscience.

GO CUBS GO!

And finally, I got this in the mail from my friend Aaron. This made him think of me. Because I have awesome friends.

It doesn’t look a lot like Mark, but close. And the eyes are super blue, just like they are on REAL Mark Grace. Swooon.

Actually the weird thing is that the bobblehead looks more like my old boss at the dirt place.

Now if my friend could exchange the bobblehead and instead send me Gracie’s digits or a random, meaningless night of sex, that would be much better.

GO CUBS GO!

I had a realization last night. I know. Alert the damn media.?I was sitting on my couch open-threading Big Brother 8 at MamaPop Talk, uploading my photos and making a slideshow complete with captions, all whilst?blogging from my couch. And I realized that maybe, just maybe, I spend too much time on the computer.

Nerd Alert.

As it is now, I’m on?the computer?all day for work. I actually have two on my desk! TWO! And when I’m not working, I am online checking blogs?catching up on the world’s news (i.e. TMZ). So me and the computer, we are already well acquainted.

But lately I’ve been spending most of my free time on the computer. Again, reading blogs, world news, open threading and blogging here. And I’m starting to wonder that what I think is?a good thing,?might be a little bit of a detriment.

See, last night, as I was in my happy place, on my new laptop (LOVE!), blogging, etc.,?Divorced Daddy called. And I didn’t answer. Because, well, the season finale of Big Brother was on. And I have my priorities.?And I figured he was going to peer pressure me into going to watch the Bears game Sunday night with him and his friends. And we have a sales conference starting EARLY Monday. And let’s face it. We all know what happens when I drink. I lose all rational thought. And I always come to the mathematical equation that beer > sleep. Every. Time.

Anyway, so I decided not to answer. I listened to the message. He was asking for me to meet him out for a drink. With some of his friends. (I think he’s scared to hang with me alone. I’m pretty frightening. Rawr!) And I’m glad I didn’t answer. Because I? Cannot lie. And have zero creativity when it comes to excuses. Because clearly I am?LYING.

So then he texted. For me to come out. Texts I can reply to. It’s writing. Lying and writing go hand and hand. So I came up with the most brilliant and witty response in the history of the world. I said “Ug. Can’t.”

Yep. Am quite a catch, fellas.

Because I was blogging. And I wanted to be blogging and on the computer. And, I was in my pajamas. Because am 30 now. Reasonable bedtimes and all that old people stuff.

And then I realized that I spend 90% of my weekday evenings blogging or on the computer in some fashion. And this is how I choose it. I bought myself a laptop so I could face the TV and use the computer. At the SAME TIME. I wanted to be able to blog from anywhere. Including my bathroom. If so inclined. (Look, don’t judge. I don’t know when the genius is going to hit.)

And this is how I like it.

In the past few months, I really jumped in head first with the blogging. I think it was when I discovered Bloglines?and realized there was an easy way to read 40-plus blogs in a day. And that meant more?time to comment and find other fun, new blogs.

My online courage went up. I started doing the open threads. And now? The one for Top Chef on Wednesdays is the highlight of my damn week. Hate to miss it. HATE. It is no fun to watch TV and make snarky comments to yourself. Because the voices inside my head? They are not funny. And they hate reality TV.

And my traffic went up. And then there were new readers. And more blogs added to my feed reader. And suddenly, I was consumed with the blogosphere and contributing to it and being an active member.

My numbers have gone up. (Thanks Zoot!) And I have more readers than I have ever had. And I love all of you. Each and every one. Except Rich.?

But now?since it’s more than just my mom reading, I feel I have a responsibility. To keep posting. And keep updating. And make you want to come back.?And the way to do that is to continue to write. As much as I can. And I have decided that the best way (for me)?to do this is write every day during the week when I can. Because this is the witty, thought-provoking shit people come here for. (Insert eye roll.)

I love writing every day. And most days, it isn’t a chore. (People, it is hard to be this awesome all the time.)?I have “met” so many cool bloggers in the last few months. And it is this great online society that we have. And all of it just makes me occasionally squeeeeeeeeee out loud. (Don’t worry. I’m taking medicine for that)

I leave the weekends for my socializing. And that works well. Because I can drink more. And KJ + drinking + not having to get up for work = good blog material. It is the perfect balance for me. Because I enjoy mah?blawging time.

So what if it means not changing out of your pajamas at 9 PM on a weeknight and having drinks with a short, balding, divorced Jewish man with a child.

I am?oh-kay?with that.

Which is why I just took out the trash. For the first time in over a week. And oh, yeah, it was full. The flies were really starting to bother me. (Yes. I’m kidding.) (Maybe.)

First, I need to just say something. Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

So back about a month or so ago, Miss Zoot decided to raise money for the MDA. And with a $20 donation, she’d do a blogger spotlight. And how can you turn that down? I mean, helping a good cause and getting more traffic. Pure freaking genius.

So I did it. Well, mostly because I’m a traffic whore. And because, well, I’d donate even without the blogger spotlight. Because I’m nice. Didn’t you hear?

I was actually a little worried. Because, well, I love Zoot. And want to be her friend. And what if she didn’t like me? I would then have to strangle myself with Red Ropes. Because then at least when I changed my mind, I’d just have to eat myself out. And it’s a tasty snack.

But she likes me!

OhmyGodpeopleZootlikesmeandtotallywantstohangoutwithme. Like for real! She like shouted it from the rooftops and told the entire internet! And I’m sure she just says those things because we are all like donating money to her cause. But whatever. We’re so going to be BFFs.

So if any of you bloggers want to be showcased, get your ass over to her site and donate!

In other inane news, I spent too much time partying in the last four days. Again. I think I mentioned I was going to the Cubs game on Thursday. And I did. And drank from noon to 11. Because apparently I’m trying to cram in all the drinking that I can before I actually turn 30.

It actually would have been a relatively early night. And maybe I could have done dishes or something productive. But I met a dude. He was at the game with us. He’s a friend of a friend of the VP at my company that took us to the game. So we went out after the game and then I joined him and his friends Thursday night to watch the Colts/Saints game at another bar.

And want to know the best part? And by best, I mean kind of crappy? He’s divorced and has a 3 1/2 year old daughter.

Now, the divorced thing doesn’t bother me. I am the child of a divorced marriage. Better to split than stay in an unhappy marriage.

And yes, I do love kids. Want some of my own some day. But what I can’t seem to be okay with is dealing with baby momma drama.

I know. I know. I’m getting ahead of myself. But I need to figure out where I stand with this before I get too far into it.

But we hung out on Saturday night. And we had a GREAT time. So I’m just going to leave it at that. For right now. Because at the very least, I found a new friend to watch football and baseball with.

Oh! Completely unrelated to anything! I also bought a laptop this weekend. To congratulate myself on making it almost 30 years. And really? The only reason was so I can blog from my couch. It makes those open threads at MamaPop a lot easier when you’re actually facing the damn TV.

And because my desk chair is really damn uncomfortable. And I’m starting to think a new chair would have hurt the pocket book a little less.

But at least the laptop will make me cool. At least a lot cooler than someone who fucking says pocket book.

Time for bed, Grandma.

P.S. Justin Timberlake, I love you. And Timbaland. Because you kids just brought the hizzouse down at the VMAs.

I don’t even remember what I wrote. But I’m about to take this fucking laptop and shove it where the sun don’t shine, preferably to someone who works at the damn Marriott because I blame their lame wireless network. Or maybe I can blame the 17 inches of rain we’ve gotten in the last 3 days.

So this week is another sales conference. In fact, it’s the same conference as the last one in July. The attendees are different. But the schedule? Same. The material? Same. The food? Same.

Which brings me to my point. The point I had in that other post. At least I think I did. But it DISAPPEARED!

So with these conferences it makes it really hard to follow my diet. And I’m trying to keep it up. I’ve only been doing it for 2 weeks, but I’m really trying to stay on plan. And I lost another pound this past week, so I know it is working. (Although, even though I know I shouldn’t, I’m a little upset I didn’t lose more this past week. I was really good and even worked out. I know. I know. Slow and steady wins this race. But I was still hoping for two pounds at least.)

Anyway, the food at these conferences is not good for you. The sandwiches are drenched in mayo. There is cheese everywhere. And we’re having an Italian seven-course dinner on Monday night. And all courses are good. I know because I picked the menu. (I picked all the menus.) I also know this because did I mention? This conference is the same as last time.

So I’m going to try as be as good as possible. I am staying at the hotel, because I have to herd people on to the bus early in the morning, so it makes it hard to bring my lunch every day. And really, sleep outranks diet. Pretty much every time.

Plus, you know what goes hand in hand with sales conferences? Booze. And normally I’m all squeeee! Free alcohol! But part of the reason I don’t fit in mah pants is because I enjoy a beer or 17. So on top of showing the world’s greatest will power with food, I also have to avoid the booze. Which really? Is just crazy talk.

The other bad thing about these conferences is no computer. Although, I have some legitimate work to do, so I’m hoping I can leave the room periodically to work on some things. Because no blogs and no email make Kristabella something something.

Go crazy? Don’t mind if I do!

In other news, my cat does not have any type of bladder infection. Or anything else that would explain her peeing in the cat bed. She’s just a bitch. And has decided to piss all over the damn apartment for some reason. She’s sure going to love me being gone all week. I’m sure I’ll come home to a puddle of urine on my pillow.

Is it Friday yet?

Dun Dun Dun!

Seriously, I had bangs my ENTIRE life. I kid you not. From birth until I was 21 years old. I started growing them out right around college graduation time. I did the whole curl them under with a round brush kind of thing. Every. Frickin’. Day.

And now, since the ripe old age of 21, I have not had bangs. Because jeebus, they take a long time to grow out. Right now, my would-be bangs are about chin length. So they are actually shorter than the rest of my hair. But still not bangs.

But I’m not sure I’m ready to take the plunge.

And then I saw Amalah’s new do. And I thought again about bangs! Yes! Want them! (And not in a single white female kind of way at all.)

And then what to do with the rest of my hair. This cut works on me. But maybe it is time for something different? Maybe a new color? What. To. Do?

So this is essentially the ‘do I’m rocking right now. (I’d take a photo as of today, but it’s a bit frizzy and poofy what from all the HUMIDITY.)

This is more for color. But you can see the layers, etc.

See, it is a nice cut. Works with my face.

It’s actually quite weird. I’m not a big fan of change. I like routine. I’m very anal. I like things to be kept the same. But with my hair? I grow bored quite often. I feel it needs to be changed up every few months. Whereas most people wear the same damn hair style for years.

I went dark once. Probably a little over a year ago. It wasn’t that dark. Really close to my natural color. Which is the same color as my eyebrows. It was a nice change. My hairstylist won’t let me go too dark. You know, since I’m as pastey as a damn ghost.

Ack. Do not know what to do. Any suggestions? Besides next time write a REAL damn post?