More Vegas

Because Lisa begged, here's some more of the shots I have online right now. I didn't get any of your car Lisa...I barely even saw you...next time just smack me and say "Emily! Take a picture of my car biatch." with that sexy british accent of yours.

...

Someone just told me I was nutty today. I responed with; "So what you're saying is...I'm like a turd?"

WTF?

I just saw a Mullet in Scottsdale, AZ! WTF? The biggest snob town of all has a mullet headed man walking around...Just another confirmation that I need to get out of this place. Eak!

Drama Free weekend

Cruising the strip with a ton of Minis

ok, aside from the stupidity of some people that succeeded in getting a rise out of me today(sorry about my earlier post) it's time to talk about Vegas!
It was a blast! there were 300+ Minis, I met some incredible people, took some cool photos and made a drunken speach in front of all of them (I'm still looking for the video, I know it's out there).

I've been a winner all around, it couldn't have gone better. My Mini won the "Most Extreme Mini" award, I was treated like a minor celebrity all weekend, I won .54 cents on a penny slot machine, the stickers and t-shirts I brought to sell were a HUGE hit, someone told me they had a crush on me (yay flattery), and my period decided to not start as scheduled (this is probably the only time you will hear that last part come out of my mouth as a good thing). I don't even know where to begin. sheesh. One of my photos is even winning the contest I entered it in. Life couldn't get any cooler at the moment. Not to mention I got to see some kung-fuh by a very hyper kid named NinjaNick and give advice about growing up vegetarian to BentheVegan. It's sad that it's over. I'm currently working on the photos I took but here are a few to tide you over until I have more time to tell stories.

This is the car that won best in show

Yay Ninja Nick

And Last but not least, Chris and I feeling a little sunburnt, drunk and exhausted...how else would you end a Vegas weekend?!

anti-friends confirmed

Edit* It's funny when someone calls you a pussy behind your back practically begging for a confrontation by saying you're scared of one and when you give it to them they say nothing...simply amazing. Guess I'm not the pussy after all. I've never been affraid of a little confrontation, just had no reason to bother my self with it nor did I feel this person deserved my energy. once again I've offered too much. This is the last post about this...may I have a drama free life from here on out. Consider yourself purged.

It's funny how when someone shows their colors and takes certain actions confirming who they really are they need someone to blame. Apparently I am a shit talker, pussy and a bitch based on my previous post about friends as well as my not letting this person bother me over the weekend (funny how my boyfriend did the same yet he was not refered to as a pussy...yet another confirmation of my previous blogs statement). I actually thought I kept it truthful. Now some of it is merely an opinion of mine and has been from the time I met this person. Some people you can read like a book. I even tried to be honest with her mentioning once that I knew they were not around because of me or to be my friend, but they were around more or less only to hang out with my boyfriend(I still have the email if proof is necesary). He was a comfort zone for her, a way to make herslef feel better about her own life, a crutch. Now had she been honest with me I would have been fine but girls are caddy little bitches sometimes and horrible at being honest, so she tried to pull off the "You're my friend too." bit...well...it didn't work. The cold shoulder, wondering around in a towel in front of him while I was out after borrowing our shower, and talking about him all the time in her blog but never once mentioning me or the nice photos I took for her as a good faith gesture to let her know she was ok, kind of clued me in. Maybe I should have put my foot down earlier and forced it out of her, but noooo I had to try and be the nice guy. Finally one day there was a conversation between her and my boyfriend where she didn't want to hear or admit to some of the things he was saying...thus the end of the friendship. It didn't bother me really because I never existed to her in the first place. No biggy, all I wanted was honesty. I'm secure in my relationship her friendship would never have been an issue. Well...now the drama has begun...yay drama...I am being written about as this horrible person. Oh well. I had no intent on being the bad guy but if I'm the one who has to buck up and do it, then so be it. Hello world, here I am...I'm the bad guy. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOOO!
It's too late for mending, Enjoy your bubble, let me know if you ever need a villain again. If you get me when I'm PMS'ing it can be quite impressive. Also if you wanted a confrontation all you had to do was say so, so please warn me ahead of time so I can do it properly rather then calling me a pussy behind my back when you can't even make eye contact.
Let the blog wars begin
Quote of the day
"Too little, too late."

I have wasted too much energy on this person but it always feels good to vent. I'm done.

Going to the Chapel and I'm gonna get married

well...not exactly. But I am going to Vegas in less than 10 hours. I'm not a big fan of Vegas but there will be well over 300 other MiNi Cooper owners showing up as well. Can I get a "hell yeah"?!

Hell yeah!

Sometimes my English to English translator quits working

So many times in my life I have heard things entirely the wrong way. Song lyrics are the most common ones. The song says "Our lips are sealed" not "Alex the seal" or "My angel in the centerfold" not "My anus is the center hole". Sometimes when submerging in conversations I do the same thing. I was once in the middle of cutting a gentleman’s hair when he said "Can I ask you a question?" as I have learned time and time again, if someone starts off a question with that sentence it is the sentence of death. Not only can you not turn down the question you are about to be asked but 9 times out of 10 it's going to be a bad question like "Do think it's working between us?" or "Will you go out with me?" when all you want to do is run away with your arms flailing. Ok, sure, how bad can his question be...then he said it "Is sister sex better wet?", my heart stopped. I knew it would be bad...just not that bad, and how did he know I have a sister? I took a long pause and with my head cocked to one side I said "excuse me?", "Do scissors cut better wet?".....oooooohhhhhh. Good thing my reaction time is slow or her probably would have got my clippers knocked up against the side of his head. With all this said, today I heard the girl in the cube diagonal to me pick up the phone and dial one of her clients. "Hi Mrs. Smith, my name is Julie from (yada yada)Mortgage company. I had sex with your husband last week."

She said SPOKE...SPOKE Emily, SPOKE! Get your damn mind out of the gutter! I think it's time to go home and whip out the ear candles and crack open a beer to get the image out of my head.
Ptewey!

If given the opportunity

I can eat and entire box of Cheez-its in one sitting...


Should I be ashamed of this?

I'm so buff

Once again I went to the gym during my lunch break to try and shape up my flabby figure...or as I prefer to say "I'm not fat I'm fluffy!"...ok ok I'm not fluffy, "I'm big boned"...or a "curvatious amazon". Regardless, something needs to be done. I want to frolic in my bathingsuit at least once in my life and not feel like I'm going to start a fire with the friction from my inner thighs rubbing together. Don't get me wrong, I'm not fat and I'm not one of those girls who always whines about it when they're not anything close to what their female mind is blowing out of porportion.

Today at the gym I worked extra hard to counteract the effect of my St. Patty's day cupcake I ate earlier. Upon my arrival back to work I decided to partake in my favorite hobby while planted at my desk. Nose picking! Ahhhh yes, the joys of nose picking. As I brought my finger to my nose my arm started shaking. It was having a spazm! I worked out so hard picking my nose is impossible! WTF? This is sad. One day I'll be super buff and be able to pick my nose and flick my boogers like a pro. Oh the things to look forward to when getting in shape. That will be far better than any cupcake, any day.

The pain of green

Last night I had a big long debate about when St. Patrick's Day actually was. My buddy was let down to find out he was a day early and the bars would not be full. Not to mention my beloved boyfriend and I are flat broke (what's new).

St. Patty's day use to be one of my favorite holidays in which my previous best friend and I would always go out to the bars and get rip roaring drunk. The evening always consisted of some form of alcohol induced silliness and meaningless flirtations with strangers. The lines were so long to the bars we'd end up peeing in an alleyway because it was far better than peeing in our pants. The last time I remember celebrating the holiday was with her, and the last thing I remember was squatting next to a dumpster and hearing a voice from above say, "Heeeeyyyy! What are you doing?"

"God? Is that you?"

Nope, it wasn't...unless of course God likes to take the form of a middle aged drunk architect on this joyous holiday of over indulgence in the evilness that is beer. I looked up and no doubt made a smart ass remark about marking my territory on his dumpster. Sometimes it just doesn't matter what you say to men or how disturbing your actions are they will still think you are cute and witty because you have a vagina. He invited the two of us up to use the bathroom which was a moot point due to the river Nile which now flowed on the asphalt below him. My friend and I looked at each other and then down to the bars' line which hadn't moved at all, when we hear the three magic words that will make anyone happy on this holiday, "I have beer!".

Climbing the fire escape type stairs to his apartment was somewhat easy on the way up, I had a feeling coming down would be a lot more difficult of a task. We hung out with him and his buddies for a while. Both of us were pretending to drink way more than we actually were so we could steal the beers by putting them in our purses. I don't know if we said goodbye but we managed to finally escape, pee in the alley again, and show back up to the front of the bar where our buddies who had held are place had still not acquired the delicacy of beer.

Did I mention girls are evil? It's not our fault, it's genetics and men are easy so the blame goes to them.

So anyway. My point of this post was; not only did I have a discussion about it last night but I woke up this morning completely forgetting and not wearing green. Everyone...and I mean everyone in my office building seemed to remember. I am a loser, how could I have forgotten my favorite holiday?! I must be getting old. There might not be a bar in my near future but I may have to pick up a 12 pack to share with my obviously getting old boyfriend who also forgot. So now am sporting a little green sticker that says "My green is better than yours" but I'm thinking of changing it to "I'm an old fart. Pinch me and feel my wrath!"

Putting the OO in PID

Once again I am proving my nickname to be true more and more. That's Stoopidgirl for those of you who haven't figured it out. So...here I am...bored...waiting for school to start and milling over the fact that my last post was serious and for someone as non serious as me I sure do post too many serious things. I can throw some more "serious" comments in there if you want...seriously.

ok stopping

A while back I wrote about Random Blog Crashing, which I haven't done in a rediculous amount of time because of work and school (puke). Somewhere down the line I picked up a fan of my blog who leaves me witty little comments. I don't exactly know how or why they found me but they are someone who for some reason keeps coming back for more. After reading their comment on my previous post about friends I realized I had never really given there blog a chance. I skimmed it once and left the page thinking, "I gotta get back to that one of these days." and never did. What can I say...I'm lazy. Maybe I am the bad friend I mentioned below...ok I'm not that bad, but I'll whine about it if that helps. In my remaining few minutes before I must take my lazy butt to math class (which I'm sooooo excited about) I went and read a little further. I giggled. I'm amaized! Where have I been!? My faith has been restored. I am such a tard. Joe Fish you make me want to read again, I salute you and your sillyness.

Congradulations Joe! You have now been added to my links which should give you delusions of grandure because it takes a lot to make me put someone over there...well, usually it takes actually knowing me, not bactually having a good blog. So you my friend officially have a good Blog. I am entertained. Oh happy days

Now all I have to do is find the time to go back and read some more.

Friends are for losers

The longer I stay in Arizona the more I become bitter about the topic of "friends". Why is it so hard for me to NOT have any friends? I did it when I was younger. I was an outcast growing up, the nerd, the ugly, the flat chested, and the repeatedly got mistaken for a boy type of girl. I had a select group of friends in my small town, we never grew apart, I just moved away. I arrived in a slightly bigger town when I was 15 only to find that yet again I was a loner. I went through a few friends until one day I met one "right" person who in turn introduced me to another...then another, and so on. Before I knew it I was acquainted with all the "right" people and even some of the "not so right but not so bad" people. Things were never perfect, I could never claim that. There was drama and lots of it but I was in my teens, it's expected. I am now 29 and in the 2 years since I've moved to Arizona I have dealt with more friendship drama than the girl who missed her period a week after prom. I am amazed...no, no, I am flabbergasted and speechless. I don't even know how to make a funny joke about it and I'd like to think I'm a pretty witty type of gal. Growing up an outcast will do that to you.

These days the question of what really makes a friend keeps coming up in conversations by the only true friend I have here. So tell me dear strangers, what makes a true friend? How do you know if someone is bluffing their way into your life? And what do you do if you actually figure them out?

I know who is not my friend. It is not the person you know for many years who you often helped out of bad situation only to have them turn their back on you when you finally need a returned favor. To that I sadly said goodbye. It is not the girl who hangs around only because she is trying to jump down your boyfriends pants and when it doesn't happen she turns around and tells everyone she slept with him anyway along with another poor fellow with a fiancé, but she does not admit to sleeping with the one person she actually did. I feel sorry for her child and husband. Stupid cunt, I've been down that road before and it cost me a best friend of 8 years. To them I said goodbye. It is not the person who calls you only when they need something and then hides in the bushes because they are assuming you can't see them. What a sad existence it is when you continue to keep people in your life only to avoid them when it's not convenient for you and expect them not to catch on. A little word of advice, friendship is not a competition and I think that bush you are cowardly crouched in makes a fine new friend for you, I'm sure it has tons to offer. It is not the numerous acquaintances who haven't talked to you in forever until they see a "sexy" photo of you, so now your inbox is full of the "How are you?" emails which translate to "I'm just keeping the door open so if you're ever single again maybe I'll have a shot because I didn't take it when you weren’t so hot." I'm still the same ole me, I'm just a better photographer.

Why do I waste my time even thinking about these people? They're not even worth this post.

My true friends are the reason this post is alive, they are worth it. My true friends are two kitties who were put into the ground way too early because of people who have a lot in common with the ones mentioned above. My true friends are the ones who call me on my birthday not because they remembered but because I was important enough to be one of the only phone calls made that day to tell me they have been diagnosed with brain and spinal cancer. My true friends are the ones who leave me silly messages and call me stoopid because no matter how bad I feel they know it makes me giggle. My true friends stock pile guns because the end of the world is coming. My true friends include a crazy Jewish girl who tolerates my jokes. My true friends include my family (call me one of the lucky ones) and my true friends include the person I get in this conversation with the most.

So here it is. The end of my not so entertaining post. Like I've said before I'm still holding out hope that there are good people out there. I've met less insane people on the internet (including my boyfriend) then I have here in Arizona. I have met some decent people while my time is being served here but so far I have not met the "right" kind who will introduce me to another...and another...

So for anyone reading this who is questioning their friendships I give you this, if there is a question, go with your instinct. They are probably not worth your time, even if it takes 8 years to show up, it eventually does. Nip it in the bud.

Observation 101

Well, like most fat, lazy American's I joined the gym 6 months ago and have barely gone. I often refer to the place as the circus, all though it has many similar qualities the circus would be more fun. I'm not getting any younger and I'm not exactly fat but to be honest my skin is starting to take a turn south, not to mention it would be nice to finally get in a bathing suit comfortably once in my life without making babies cry. Some co-workers and I decided we would get off our butts and go work-out during our lunch breaks, even if our lunch breaks are only an hour and it means sacrificing precious shower time to spend the rest of the day stinky. Right now, as I type this...I am in fact stinky, I'm tired, my muscles hurt and I can't think strait to save my life, but my protein shake is pretty tasty. Mmmm Vanilla cream.

When I go to the gym I am an observer, I'm quite good at it. There are lots of interesting people and things going on, like the guy with the old school redneck "BadBoy" logo tattooed on his bicep or the She-man who cleans the woman's bathroom, whom I still question her gender and am determined this is just a ploy to look at naked girls because she is really a he. There are mounds of fake boobs (pun intended) and beefy guys who look like there muscles could explode at any minute and knock me off my elliptical. After all the observing I do it should have come as no shock to me that I could be the one getting observed. I've been in a happy relationship for two years and we all know when this is the case you get hit on by the opposite sex a lot less. If I was unhappy in my relationship and didn't know it yet, I would actually get hit on more. The up side is I'm happy, the downside is I don't get the ego boost that much anymore, unless of course it's from my beloved boyfriend, which he does quite frequently (score one for the boyfriend!). The other day I was walking into the gym with my two coworkers just like any other day. I got a head start by going to the changing room to be met up with by my female coworker who had morphed into a bubbly school girl. "You just totally got hit on through me!" she exclaimed practically jumping out of her shoes. "Oh really..." I said very interested in the story, so she continued, "Yeah, you know that really happy Chinese guy who logs us in? Well he just asked me if you had a boyfriend and I told him you did." Good girl I thought but did she tell him he was big and mean? My prayers were answered, "I told him you had a boyfriend, he was big and manly, and that you guys have been together for a long time, and are very happy!" once again, good girl. I asked her what his response was and she said he replied with his usual happy manor and said "Oh darn, because I think she's FANTAAAASTIC." It felt good to know that someone had observed me for a good reason and it didn't come off as creepy. I snickered about it for the rest of the day. When I went home, I told my boyfriend the story and since then have not stopped saying "You know I'm FANTAAAASTIC right?" in which he replies, "Yes, yes I do." with a smile on his face.

So now when I go to the gym I don't feel so bad because I am not the only observer in the place. It may be a secret world we observers live in but it's far better than if I was to tell them what I was really thinking(that's what my blog is for). Now all I have to do is keep my pants from getting tighter.

Lacking ambition

So I've been lacking ambition and creativeness these days. When this happens, for some reason I end up taking self portraits. Not that anyone complains about them because I have big jugs and the internet is full of guys who like to stare down my shirt. Unfortunately none of the photos have been coming out well and my beloved boyfriend keeps telling me I look retarded. Even when I think I look cute. So tonight....again....I sat down in front of my camera in an attempt at something great. I shot off 20 or so pictures and found one I thought was decent. I photoshopped it, made it cool and all that good stuff. I asked the boyfriend "I look retarded don't I?". Why do girls ask questions they already know the answer to? It's pure sadomasachism(sp?). Anyway the response I got was "Yes, more than usual." Damnit! I can't win. Within my frustration I had a stroke of genius. I'm a genius you here me? A GENIUS! I have taken the photo that will define my exhistance on this planet. It is by far an amazing piece of work and will be drooled upon by internet pervs everywhere.
OK I'm lying through my teeth...it's total, complete, and utter trash....but it is funny and made me giggle and that's all that counts.

Enjoy.

Are you giggling like a little school girl yet? No? Not even a school boy? Damn!