I had a really bad week last week. I wish I could go into it here, but it is work related and I have learned my lesson from that. But it was one of the worst weeks that I think I’ve had in my professional career. I’m sure I’m partly making it out to be worse than it is, at least I hope I am, but still. The sting of last week, especially last Friday, it’s still right there at the surface. Makes it hard to get excited and want to come into work on Monday morning.

As I’ve gotten older, there are more than a few things I am sure about in my life. I’ve gained confidence in myself and my abilities so while I know that I suck at certain things, there are things that I’m really good at. I think we all know our strengths and weaknesses, right? For the most part? When I’m questioned on something I feel I do strongly in, it eats away at me. Because if I can’t even be good at the things I’m good at, what hope is there for me?

So yeah, that is where my mind is this Sunday evening. I’m actually quite proud of myself because I’ve managed to put it out of my head for most of the weekend and enjoy myself. Like drinking for almost 12 hours on a Saturday. Because I’m 32 so that is quite a feat! Especially since we started at 7:30 AM. And there was a line at the bar! BEFORE 8 AM! And I was standing by the end of the day too!

Now you should all mark your calendars to make a trip out to Chicago for St. Patty’s weekend! We do it right!

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In other news, the best thing about day drinking, or morning drinking as the case may be, is that by 8 PM you’re home tucked into bed and fast asleep. Which means that even with the time change, I got plenty of sleep and woke up rested and actually accomplished something more than lying around on the couch all day moaning about how my head hurt! I actually didn’t do much more than that, actually, except I wasn’t in pain. I even got my taxes done! Thank you Barack Obama for your first-time homebuyer’s tax credit! I can’t wait for my refund! That will got towards buying fancy things like…a lower credit card balance! Woo hoo!

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Plus, I got to wear my favorite shirt. And make up for the fact that I’ll be in Pittsburgh for work, at a dinner with co-workers, on actual St. Patty’s Day on Wednesday.

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So, tell me all about your fancy weekends! Tell me anything, really, to take my mind someplace else!

So because I’ve had a shittastic week at work (IT IS ONLY WEDNESDAY, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!) and know that we can all use a laugh these days, I’m re-posting it here. Because even if you read it almost 2 years ago, it is still pretty funny. If I do say so myself. And if you don’t laugh, don’t tell me. Because as I mentioned – BAD WEEK!

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(Reposted from July 2008)

Every time one of my fellow bloggers asks about guest posts, I am always one of the first people to be all “pick me, choose me, love me.” Oh wait, that was Meredith Grey.

But I always am totally eager to do it because….well, I’m not sure why. I would already be writing a post for that day on my own site and those people get enough of my inane drivel. Why would I subject others to it as well?

Basically, I’m a shameless famewhore, that’s why. So I decided since Jodi was nice enough to let me take over her site for a day, that I would write an ode to reality television. And how I am lured by its glowing television glow week in and week out.

But I’m not a poet. And I’m not even sure what an Ode entails. And I’m sure it has something to do with iambic pentameter or some poetry nonsense, but the fact is I don’t even remember how many syllables are in each line of a Haiku.

Instead, I figured I would talk about what it would be like to be on one of these reality programs. Because we all know we’ve thought about how we’d kick ass on Amazing Race, or would totally fall in love on The Bachelor or how we would like to make out with Simon on American Idol. What? Oh, just me then.

So I have picked three reality television shows that I would like to be on – The Bachelor, The Mole and Rock of Love with Bret Michaels. And I will tell you exactly how my experience would go if I were to be lucky enough to not have to work and could give up weeks at a time to pimp my famewhore self out on national television.

The Bachelor

Let’s face it, I’m 30 32 now (!), I’m single and I live alone with my two cats. Why shouldn’t I be on The Bachelor? I ask you, who wouldn’t want to date me? Clearly I’m quite a catch.

There are a few things that could go wrong. One, I do not own any dresses with sequins, and I’m sure that would deny me a rose. Two, those bitches are all size zero. I am not. Three, what happens if I make it to the final three and forgo my individual room and go to the fantasy suite with The Bachelor? How could you ever face your co-workers and your family? They will know you are a SLUT.

In reality, I wouldn’t make it past the first episode. Two words – free booze. I’d be a drunken, slurry mess by the time the first rose ceremony rolled around.

The Mole

I never watched this show until this current season and that was mostly because Jodi was all “watch The Mole! It is teh awesome! Even without Anderson Cooper!” And that was all it took for me to watch. Plus it is summer and there is not much else on.

The first time I watched it, I was unsure about the plot. Basically one person is the mole and is sabotaging everyone else. Or something. I still get confused when they reveal who the fake ghosts and mummies are on Scooby Doo. so I’m going to be blown away by whoever the mole is come the end of the show. I just hope there is a mask involved and Velma and Fred are there.

In reality if I was on this show, since I’m not the best secret keeper in the world, all it would take would be one drunken night with all of the contestants and I’d slurringly shout “I’m the MOLE, bitches!” And then giggle and pass out in my vat of wine.

Rock of Love

Who would NOT want to be on this show? And I’m not talking about going on to make out with Bret Michaels and his nasty thinning hair and collection of hideous bandanas. I vomited in my mouth a little just typing that. I’m talking about DRAMA. To the millionth degree!

Although, I’d be in trouble the first night when Bret takes sexy photos of you for your tour badge. Because I’d flash my granny panties and full-length Spanx sucking in all the fat rolls and the sexiness would be gone and I’d be booted before my first can of celebratory Bret’s Brew.

And I’d be OK with it because there’s no need to have to show up all those skanks with my pole sliding-down abilities. Straight from the playground to VH1. Wheee!

Oh wait, that’s not what they use that pole for?

And now you see why I’m a watcher. Not a doer.

ANYWAY, after my interesting Friday night, I again put my big girl panties on (around 2 PM) and got ready to head out to a pub crawl they were having over near Wrigley. It was for charity! And I’m all about drinking beer for charity! Or for any reason!

We had an OK time, but the pub crawl was crowded and the bars on Southport aren’t really big enough to support a pub crawl. So we ditched it about three bars in and went to a local neighborhood bar. Where we played pool and got colored in chalk. We left there and hopped to another bar and ate pizza from some stranger’s party and then left. We ended up at the craziest dive bar I’ve been to in my life. And I’ve been to some doozys!

This bar is actually closer to my house on the North side. My friend Melissa had read about it and wanted to try it out. She said it was an Eastern European bar. And I was all “whatever that means.” I will never say that again in my life.

We first walked in and the place is small and pitch black. I don’t think there are any lights in there at all. We take a seat at the bar, which is more like a chin rest because it comes up that high. It was like being a little kid at the bar! Complete with bendy straws in our drinks!

I’m pretty sure we were the only people in there who spoke English as a first language. There was some woman singing (karaoke?) in a different language. And there were people sitting around tables, intently listening to her (or staring at us).

My friends got up to go to the restroom and the bartender handed me a plastic cup filled with water and told me that I can smoke in there, but just to drop the ashes in the cup. I don’t smoke, but my two friends do, and let me tell you, they were over the moon! I kind of was too because they go out to smoke and then I have to sit at the bar alone and Twitter. Now we could all be together! Huzzah for bars who break the law!

When they were in the bathroom, I also noticed a few kids. I was a bit out of it since we had been drinking since about 3 and it was, at that point, after 10. So we commented on the fact that there were kids! IN A BAR! You have a baby! IN A BAR!

And then the little one, who couldn’t have been more than 5, got up to go sing! In a bar! At 11 PM!

Right before we left, some man came up and gave us each a flower, a single carnation each. To remember our night at this bar, I guess. All I know is we’re SO going back!

(Flower squished because it has been sitting under a pile of crap on the counter since Saturday night.)

So tell me, do you have any good dive bar stories? Because I probably have enough for a weekly feature!

On Friday night my friend Lara was having a get together for her birthday. I spent the day whining to anyone who would listen because I am OLD and going out at 9 PM on a Friday night is HARD! And then my friend Melissa was like “suck it up, you fool! You need to get out of your Grandma funk! PUT ON YOUR BIG GIRL PANTIES!”

So I did. I kept myself busy when I got home from work on Friday evening. I made sure that I didn’t take a nap because if I had taken a nap, I would have been down for the count. I made coffee and added some Bailey’s to it. And I love Lara and she helped me celebrate my birthday, so the least I could do was suck it up and be a big girl and go out and have a good time.

And boy, howdy, am I glad I did! Because I am apparently a cougar! And I took a nice, YOUNG, 24-year old Irish lad home to my condo! He was the first one I’ve brought back to my new place. AND I HAVE LIVED HERE ALMOST A YEAR NOW!

24. That is almost nine years younger than me! NINE! I nabbed myself a child! A fetus! A cute fetus, though, no?

I should back up a little because it was a pretty interesting night. So Irishman was 24, originally from Ireland and going to law school here, had a very sexy accent, a twinkle in his eye and a baby face. I was immediately attracted because he could have looked like Mickey Rourke and I would have still loved him. I am a SUCKER for an accent.

Anyway, we talked for a chunk of the night. He was so adorable. Like a little brother. He told us Midwestern women intimidate him because we’re so honest and real. I pinched his cheeks. I honestly thought there was nothing more there than chit chat and him putting up with the old lady chatting him up at a bar. Where there were people his own age! Clearly I was not drunk enough to be overconfident.

I think he was pretty drunk. Which, interesting to note, he talked slower, which was better since it is hard to understand an Irish accent sometimes. At one point, his buddy was talking to Lara and he says “so when are we going back to your place?” And then I laughed and laughed and laughed! Mr. Innocent, “oh-Midwestern-women-frighten-me”, was fixin’ to get into my pants. So I did what any immature 32 year old would do, I told Lara and this other dude how Mr. Innocent isn’t really so innocent! And we laughed….

But the Irishman got MAD! He didn’t like that I was ruining his game! What if people start talking? He’ll never hook up with anyone again with his innocent act! So I apologized because he was really upset and had that sad puppy dog look in his twinkling eyes. Sucker. Right here. (points to self.)

And then? He decided he was heading home because he was a little wobbly. So we all said our goodbyes and that was that. One of Lara’s friends was like “did he get your number?” And I’m like “nope. He just flirted with me all night and then left! Silly kids!” Like I mentioned, he was flirty and touchy-touchy, but I honestly didn’t think he was interested.

About 15 minutes later, Irishman came back into the bar. And we were all “he’s baaaack!” He comes over to me and is all “do you know how long I’ve been outside waiting for you?” And I tell him “well, if you’re wanting someone to go with you, you kind of have to SAY something.” Kids. *eye roll*

So we left. He didn’t want to go to his place. I didn’t really want him at my place, since it was not clean. Also, Aunt Flo was in town, so it wasn’t like we were going to be doing much of anything anyway. I told him this much because why should he come all the way up north to my place when he’s not going to be getting any?

He apparently thought he could change my mind. Oh kids, they are so adorable.

We end up making out in the cab. And I’m not drunk enough at this point to be OK with this. Because I’m the Cab Driver Whisperer. And for some reason, this weirds me out. But whatever, I go with the flow. We get to my place. I drink a huge glass of water and ask him if he wants anything. He wants another beer. And I’m reminded, YET AGAIN, that there is a large age difference between us. (Also, I have a pub crawl I have to get up for the next day, so I need to actually be able to get up.)

We sit on the couch and chat for awhile. Until he gets antsy and wants to “go to bed.” So I remind him that all we’re going to be doing is sleeping. Not “sleeping”. He still thinks he’s going to convince me otherwise.

Yada, yada, yada, after some making out and him getting pissed that I won’t “sleep” with him, he tells me he’s going. Because, and I swear I can’t make this up, he has really nice sheets at home. They are Egyptian cotton. And he can’t sleep on my apparently crappy sheets.*

I just laugh. And I call him a cab. He tries unsuccessfully one more time to woo me, to no avail, and then huffs off, literally like stomps out of my place in a huff, and says he’ll just wait outside for the cab no matter how long it takes.

And then I go to bed laughing and think “THIS is why I have a blog. Because I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.”

*Did you all ever see that movie with Brittany Murphy and Dakota Fanning, where Brittany is the nanny and she dates this rock star who makes up a song about her about “sheets of Egyptian cotton”? I’ve had that song in my head all weekend. (Uptown Girls! You can hear the song here!)

Anyway, because I love the Oscars and because I did nothing today but sleep and eat a large quantity of Taco Bell, I don’t have time to write a proper blog post. And boy oh boy does this weekend need a proper recap. It needs a post! Or probably two! Because it was that good and kind of ridiculous, but in the most awesome way possible. There was beer! And hot Irish kids! (No really! He was 24! I AM A COUGAR!) And weird dive bars! And karaoke in a different language! And cab drivers! OF COURSE!

But that will have to wait until tomorrow. Until then, I give you a Public Service Announcement: Be wary of a drunk person with a pool stick in hand. You may end up “marked”.

Anywho, since it is Thursday and my brain is mush, and because today had to be the longest day in the history of mankind, all I can muster to post is a bunch of random things. So here we go…

On Tuesday, I saw Broadway in Chicago tweet about a contest to win free tickets.  I didn’t think about to what show they were for, I was just like “I WANT TO WIN!” And the weird thing is, I KNEW the answer. It was Chicago Hope! The question was about Mandy Patinkin. After I sent the answer I was overcome with a wave of the “what have I dones”. Because then I remembered that there was currently a Broadway in Chicago production with Mandy in it. Some sort of “Mandy and some chick sing some songs they’ve sung on Broadway in the past.”

So I won. Because how many people even watched Chicago Hope?  And how many of those people are actually on Twitter? Not many, I would imagine. So of course I won. And of course it was the day after I had just stayed home sick so I was not feeling like being up late and being out watching a MAN named MANDY sing.

Then I remembered that my mom really wants to see this show. So I called her and was all “surprise! You can go see Mandy!” Except, she wasn’t feeling good and also is older than me and doesn’t like to go out on school nights.

So what did I do? I just ignored the @reply and pretended I never won.

But now I can never say I’ve never won anything.

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I finally grabbed a shot of my favorite WiFi network that I see every day on my way home.

Also, this is ALWAYS at a stop light. I don’t check my phone while driving after you all scolded me.

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Kitty Kitty loves to play with straws. This is a note to any of you who come to my house and would like to drink out of a straw. She will not let you. She will spot it and then pull it out of your cup, even if that means spilling the entire contents of the cup all over EVERYTHING! And she will do this at any hour of the day. TRUST ME! I KNOW THIS! She once spilled an entire glass of water, off my nightstand, at like 3 AM!

So because she hasn’t been herself lately, I brought out a bunch of straws for her to play with. It’s kind of adorable. She bats them around the floor, and then she’ll pick it up in her mouth and carry it around, like she’s got a bone in her mouth. Makes me laugh every time.

She bats them around until they go away – under the rug, under a door, under the fridge, etc. So this is what I come home to every night. I’m pretty sure my neighbors wonder why there is always a straw outside my door.

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And now this, that Kerri sent to me awhile back, is just 100 kinds of fitting:

#spinstercards

And on that note, I wish you all a wonderful weekend! Do you have anything exciting planned?

THIS GIRL!

So my new laptop, my stylish and friendly companion, has a webcam, which will probably not be used that much except to have the cats say hello to all of you.

But since I’ve spent all my evening setting up my new computer, I will leave you with my first, and probably last, vlog. Well at least my last topic-less vlog because this was just a mess.

Also, webcams are unflattering. Or I really have 17 chins and a mustache. And note to self: Maybe wear a bra and sit up straight next time, OK?

So here, for your viewing pleasure, ME! And Simba! Ta-dah!

And somehow this is even more embarrassing that showing my 8th grade photo yesterday.

And because I’m generous, I figured I would share the photo of me from 8th grade. It’s a little small, but I think you can take in the greatness that is the BANGS and the GLASSES THAT ATE MY FACE, ZOMG!!

I wish I had a scanner. And I wish I had old photos of myself to share. Because this is actually one of the good ones. And this photo? Deserves to be in all color. Why?

1. I’m wearing a gold chain necklace that I probably got at the dollar store.
2. Those BIG glasses? ARE BLUE!
3. That outfit, whoo boy do I remember that outfit. It was a two-piece thing, pants and a top. It was a dark blue, almost navy, and the things on the front of the top were gold. And these pants? THEY WERE HAMMER PANTS! And they had SUSPENDERS! Oh man, I loved that outfit.
4. THE BANGS! In my head, I pictured them bigger. I think I did a better job with my bangs a few weeks ago.
5. My God, the yearbook photos from this year are hilarious! SO. MUCH. BIG. HAIR.

And now I have to make a special trip to my Mom’s to find some other photos and go buy a scanner! Because people, there was a MULLET YEAR! Complete with Sophia Petrillo glasses.

If only I were kidding.

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In other news, in a wave of guilt for not attending to my cats’ every need, I bought them some toys at Target over the weekend. Specifically, I bought them these cubes:

They sat untouched until today! Until I moved them to the carpeted room, figuring they might want to not sit on the cold hardwoods!

Simba clearly wasn’t happy I caught him utilizing his new toy.

Well, my March came in like a Lion because I was up all night last night with stomach issues and the chills. So I stayed home today to rest and hopefully eat something and drink and get my energy up.

Here is a list of the other things I did:

• Slept
• Twittered
• Played Words with Friends, mostly with Rhi because she was home sick too (ZOMG, I got sick through the INTERNET!)
• Watched a lot of daytime television, including the first episode of The OC on SoapNet. Man, it is a WONDER why I stuck with that show. The only thing that made that show was Seth Cohen. Even in episode 1.
• Summer was like the Kelly Taylor of that show – so dumb and slutty in the beginning and turned out to be a good person, who went to BROWN.
• Spent a lot of quality time with my cats
• I think my one cat might actually be sick or something. She’s been barfing a lot lately. Funny, though, she only seems to do it when I’m not here. Convenient, cat.
• Ate toast
• Drank cherry limeade Crystal Light
• Napped
• Watched The Golden Girls because no sick day is complete without Dorthy and the Gang.

And that my friends is a day in the life of Kristabella: The Sick Day Edition.

So tell me, readers (I think there are more than one of you these days), do you have any interesting news to share? Any exciting stories? Any topics you’d like to see me blog about? Because we’re still a month from Easter, kids, and I’m running out of steam.

I gave blood!

For VAMPIRES! EDWARDDDDD!

And Simba wanted to tell you all to do your part to help save lives!

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And then this weekend, I actually left the house! And ran errands! And did all the things I’ve been putting off for weeks and weeks!

Saturday morning I went to Target, got coffee, picked up my contacts and my dry cleaning all before noon! And then I came home, unpacked my purchases, organized a bit of the second bedroom and then did four loads of laundry!

Then I took a break, sat down on the couch and then didn’t get up until I moved to the bedroom and went to bed.

Yeesh! Who knew actually DOING things would make you so tired?

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Today I went over to my Grandma’s/Mom’s house and took my Gram out to run errands. Since my mom has to do it all the time, I figured it would be nice to give her a break. So we went to KMart and stocked up on things for Gram. Then we stopped for donuts. And if you live in a state with Dunkin Donuts, I HIGHLY recommend you head out there RIGHT NOW for their triple chocolate donut. SO TASTY!

But at least I got a free meal out of it AND leftovers! And watched the awesome USA-Canada hockey game. And while it didn’t end in the US’s favor, it was still an AWESOME game and I’m so glad the US hockey team is finally performing at the Olympics! And not just destroying hotel rooms!

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Also, I’m sure you’ve all been hearing me talk about this enough this weekend, BUT! The amazing Laurie asked me to be part of a panel with her for a Room of Your Own session at this year’s BlogHer conference. I gladly accepted because I would never turn down a chance to spew my nonsense at a room full of people!

Anyway, I don’t know when voting ends (I think it is today, but I’m not sure), but if you are able to still vote, I would love your support to say that you would attend this session. (CLICK HERE TO VOTE!) Even if you’re not going to BlogHer, the more support the better! For those of us bloggers who aren’t moms and just blog about our lives, there are not a lot of panels/sessions for us at BlogHer and I think this will really be fantastic. Doesn’t hurt that I’ll be on a panel with some FANTASTIC LADIES!

For those of you who have voted, THANK YOU! I really hope we get to present in August!

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And with that, I’m going to bed. Because I’ve done far too much this weekend and I’m beyond exhausted!