Name That Smell

I went to a get together at the Tracie and Megan Masek household tonight. It is always nice to get together with old friends from high school and catch up. And I got to see one of my favorite people: my square root, Aaron! (who reads this but rarely comments... cough, cough.) With Tracie and Aaron at grad. school, my laughter quota is cut in half.

Fun was had by all, especially my dear Flounder. She was so excited for her friends to come over and drink with her, that she drank heavly in anticipation... so much that she ended up passing out on the living room floor. She reminded me of a little kid who runs around in a sugar induced frenzy, and bumps their head on the dining room table, knocking themselves out for a period of time.

Random quote:

Aaron: Smells like boysenberry.

Me: I thought boysenberries smelled like poop.

Aaron: I don't know about that...

Me: Oh wait, that's DINGLEBERRY. My bad.


Nick and Kirk decided that we were all being far too mature, by not reacting to Little Miss Pass-out. So they picked her up and carried her to the front yard for a photo shoot with her blow up lawn ornaments. Hey... it HAD to be done.

Nick was nice enough to cover her back up on the living room floor when she was done modeling the latest in Christmas decor.

It must have been the Cap-i-tan.

Slaminky Malargy to you and yours....

Now Playing: "Smooth Rider" by Dave Matthews Band

Try to be best 'cause you're only a man, and a man's gotta learn to take it.....

****NOTE**** This post was written under the influence of benadryl, and I am feeling pretty looopy. Please forgive me.

I got a treasured gift of music in the mail on Monday from Scott, and since I have been busy with Mom's 50th birthday and my interview this morning (it went REALLY well, so keep your fingers crossed that I get it), I haven't been able to listen to the CDs... especially the ever so anticipated "Rad Mix."

I make a lot of mixes, but rarley get one in return, so I was pretty pumped to get this one. ESPECIALLY since there were only 2 songs that I already had on my iTunes, the sign of a good mix. I love getting new music.

The best part of the "Rad Mix" was the secret track at the end. It's the theme song from Karate Kid: "You're the Best!" by Joe Esposito. I sing it to my co-workers when they have done something of merit. Or I sing it to myself when I am roundhouse-ing punks in the face during my many street fights. Either way, it's a great anthem, and always appropriate. Weddings, funerals, birthdays and engagement parties.... all perfect situations to unleash this masterpiece.

Ok, I better wrap this up, because I can't feel my hands on account of the benadryl... looks like it's bedtime for this bozo.

Slaminky Malargy to you and yours....

Now Playing: Do I need to even say? Duh.

Imaginary Friend

My parents are somewhat old-fashioned. They wouldn't let me call boys until I went to high school. I had one of the earliest curfews of my friends. And they don't understand blogging.

So if I told them that I met someone from the blogging world, they would be slightly weirded out, and they would probably warn me that I wasn't being safe.... yada yada yada.

As most of you know, I met Marit awhile ago and have hung out and became "real friends." Haha. But since they have not met her, they refer to her as my "imaginary friend."

My family (aunt, uncle, cousin, grandparents) went out to dinner tonight for my mom's birthday. And we were all laughing and drinking and having a good time, when my sister's imaginary friend "Angie" from years ago was brought up.

Dad: Well, Erin has an imaginary friend now. Her name is Melissa.

Erin: Um... her name is Marit. And she told me to tell you Happy Birthday, Mom.

Megan: (turns around and talks to thin air) Sorry he got your name wrong, Marit. (pretends to pat a child's head.)


Slaminky Malargy to you and yours....

Now Playing: "There's Always Someone Cooler than You" by Ben Folds

Drink, Drank, Drunk

I went out last night to celebrate my mother's 50th birthday. It was a really good time. I danced my feet off and drank my liver away. It is almost 6 p.m. and I am still feeling like crap.

I say this every year, but this year I am sticking to it. New Year's resolution: NO MORE DRUNK DIALING.

I called people that I haven't talked to in a year and a half. I called people who were out drinking themselves. I called people on vacation. And I am sure I called people who were asleep. So I am sorry Jess, Elena, Jimmy G, PHB, Will, Floyd, Marit, and anyone else I forgot to mention. This insanity must stop.

Also... BIG thank you to Andrea and Scott for taking me and Megan home. I can't really remember it, but I am sure we were annoying and I hope that you want to hang out with us again.

Slaminky Malargy to you and yours...


Now Playing: "Feeling Alright" by Joe Cocker

Santa Baby

This is a Christmas Mad Libs I found on Nessa's blog. Make your own here


Dear Santa,

I have been a good girl.

It really wasn't my fault what happened at Andrea's Office party. It was Justin who spiked the punch with too much Everclear. I can't help it if I drank 38 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like sewage.

I thought it was funny when I put Brett's boxers on my head and danced the C-Walk on the love seat while singing "Blame it on the Rain''. I didn't mean to break Andrea's vibrator and don't know why Andrea would accuse me of indecent exposure.

I don't remember calling Ryan's wife a slimy cow---even though she looked like one with puce eye shadow and lavender lipstick!

And when I threw up on Katie's husband's neck, it was only because I ate too much of that sushi.
After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my horse drawn carriage through my neighbor's roof. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a loud beaver and have me arrested for public intoxication!

So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all sleepy and perverted. And I'm really not to blame for any of this funky stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!

Sincerely and quickly yours,Erin (Really a nice girl!)

P.S. It's only 77 bucks!


Slaminky Malargy to you and yours...

Now Playing: "Jump" by Madonna

Guess what today is?!

That's right! My half birthday! I turned 23 1/2 today!

I keep the half birthday scene alive mainly to annoy my parents.

Me (on the phone with parents): Guess what today is?

Dad: The 8th..... oh.... It's your half birthday.

Me: They bought me doughnuts here at work,(truth!) so I expect my gift when I get home.

Dad: You are the biggest dork I have ever met.

Mom: Go back to work, Dorko.

Ahh the love.

Slaminky Malargy to you and yours...

Now Playing: "Wheel in the Sky" by Journey

For Your Amusement

Just wanted to direct your attention to the right side of my page where I added a new section of links.

For Your Amusement is an online magazine that I have recently started to write for, and I had my first piece published last night. I am pretty pumped.

So from now on, I'll link to the articles I write for FYA on here. But you really should check out the rest, because there are some great articles written by some extremely cool people. (I know a few of them from college, actually.)

Slaminky Malargy to you and yours....

Now Playing: "Last Christmas" by Wham!

Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown!

It seems that the "Saga of the Tree" is not quite over for us. At around 8 p.m. EST, Our 9 foot tree took a tumble and drunkenly fell over, breaking ornaments and almost catapulting itself out the large family room windows.

It was just Mom and I, so we decided to call Dad who was celebrating the Grand Opening at the new Hooters in town with my godfather, Gary. Classy, huh? They SWEAR that Hooters has the best wings, but they are liars.

My aunt Tanya brought them to the house where Mom and I were holding up to the tree, for the men to put back up.

Actual conversation:

Dad (a little hammed up): Are the little boy and the dyke holding the tree up?

Me: What?

Dad: Are the little boy and the dyke holding the tree up?

Me: Are you calling me a dyke?

Dad: Haven't you ever heard that old Swedish story about the little boy holding back the water of the dyke? That's what I was talking about. I thought you took a fairytale class in college. I am disappointed.

Me: Well, it seems you failed your storyTELLING class, because in a round about way you called mom a dude and me a lesbian.

After about 15 minutes of Dad standing on a wobbling ladder, we get the tree back up, and this seemed to present the opportunity for one of my family's notorious "Beer Parties." Yes, they call them that, eventhough the "Beer Parties" are basically the four of them drinking beer. Simply put!

So if the tree tips again, we may purchase a tree we can handle:

I think I hear the "Peanuts" gang singing now....

Slaminky Malargy to you and yours....

Now Playing: "Moondance" by Van Morrison

I'm a lumberjack, and I'm OK

Today we continued the annual tradition in the McCalla family of cutting down our Christmas tree. Or maybe I should be calling us the Griswolds....

Since Megan is at uninversity (I sound so Brittish), Dad, Mom and I packed in the good ol' Dodge Ram and headed out to Taylor's Tree Farm in search of the perfect tree.

The requirements for the tree are... 9 feet tall and around 4 feet wide. We have gone over the limit many a time and I am surprised my poor dad has not sustained major injury in the whole process of putting the damn thing up. In usual McCalla hunting fashion, we found the perfect tree about 50 feet from the parking lot, and again in usual McCalla hunting fashion, we decide to forego the perfect tree in perfect range to the truck, to scour the entire depth of the lot for the even "perfecter" tree. Here is Dad measuring the tree close to the parking lot, and please notice the proximity.


We search for about a half hour with no luck, because again in true form, we can't agree on a tree. As many years before, we head back to the front of the lot to cut the first tree we laid our eyes on. To our dismay, we watched another family yell, "TIMBER!" as they sawed OUR TREE down. Back to the far corners of the lot for the McCalla family.
This is Dad laying down for a nap, exhausted from the hunt...

Mom and Dad after TIMBER!
By this time, the pines all started to look alike as we visited the same trees for the second time. In a delirious state, we chose one that seemed fine at the time, but as we learned had a trunk with more curve than a Playboy Bunny. But as I learned when I was a girl of five, Dad can fix anything, and after a period of grunts and cuss words, he had that tree standing on its own in the new-fangled stand.

And because we refuse for simplicity to be a part of our lives, Dad had stepped in dog shit somewhere in our backyard and tracked it ALL OVER OUR LIVING ROOM. This is when I decided to go for a beer run. When I came back the mess was cleaned up after using only a bottle or two of carpet cleaner. Dad proceeded to double fist Bug Lights until dinner time.

We had a lot of laughs and we ended up with a beautiful looking tree... as always.

Other highlights:

-Dad peeing in both the FRONT YARD and at the tree farm, and me being there to document it.

-The caboose at the tree farm. Something childlike comes over you when faced with a brightly painted life-sized toy.

- Dad, after the hazardous day, being brave/stupid enough to attempt standing on a step stool on top of a kitchen chair.

But the end result was all worth it. Don't you think?

To end the night we ordered Chinese food and watched A Muppet's Christmas Carol and White Christmas. I am finally in the Christmas swing of things... I was afraid I wasn't going to get here.

Slaminky Malargy to you and yours....

Now Playing: "One of These Things First" by Nick Drake

Interview

Went on a terrible interview today. I'm not really that upset, because this guy was INSANE. First off, he looked like my pedeatrician.... not a good start. My childhood doctor is the reason I hate doctors and refuse to go.

Anyway... Basically the job is mine if I am:

1. Extremely motivated by money... and not much else.

2. Willing to give up my life. The job comes before boyfriends (check), family and friends. Um... what? Direct quote: "If you have a family problem come about, I don't really care"

3. Give up writing. Because this job will encompass everything... no time for your dreams.

4. Motivated by money. (I know I already said this, but he said it about 18 times during the course of a half hour.)

I'm a big fan of money. I like it, I use it, I have a little. I keep it in a jar on top of my refrigerator. I'd like to put more in that jar. That's where you come in.

I don't think I will be getting a call back. Mainly because he had previous knowledge (from a frienf of the family who set up the interview) that I went to NY for an interview with Rolling Stone for an UNPAID internship. Surely a girl who would be willing to undergo such a process is not MOTIVATED BY MONEY. All I can do is laugh.

Slaminky Malargy to you and yours...

Now Playing: "I Second that Emotion" by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles

Only the lonely, know why I cry....

It's tough being single around Christmas... no matter how much I love this time of year.


Slaminky Malargy to you and yours....

"Hold on Hope" by Starsailor