Blonde Story Short

I am nothing less than intrigued by the male gender.  I find their behaviors and thought processes to be compelling and interesting! I compare my male fascination to the average person watching a lava lamp. I can pretty much guarantee what will happen. It doesn't take that long to heat up. The blobs of goo will sort of bounce around, hitting one side, hitting the other, bouncing off the top, then the bottom, the color never changing. I know that at a certain point, the base of the lamp will burn if I touch it, but sometimes forget and do it anyway...or don't forget at all, but think that maybe this time it won't burn, but will just feel nice and warm! It's so very predictable but something about a lava lamp keeps you watching it, in hopes that something awesome will happen! What really happens...every time...the same blobs...bouncing around...in a way that we should all respect and admire of course. In other words the male gender is ENTERTAINING, for lack of a better w...

I always envy those sales people who are so enthralled with their product that their enthusiasm nears eerie. After being fitted for my latest bridesmaid dress I was told I would be needing a very, very special bra...one nothing less than what can be purchased at The Perfect Fit in Tustin, California. We went to the shop and the saleswoman was one of these folks who LOVES what she sells. I was so blown away by her passion for undergarments that I didn't even catch her name. For now we'll call her the "Bra enthusiast (BE)." BE took me into the antique decorated fitting room. There was one of those old school, fabric stools, which was used to hold my current (and apparently ghetto) bra and a thick velvet curtain used to hide my shirtlessness. BE was very intense. Her bra-related verbiage was spoken with precision and seriousness. This was a no-nonsense matter. She started by measuring me. I asked if she needed me to take off the bra I was wearing, wanting an accurat...

I am extremely sore and joyfully exhausted. This week has been fantastic...and it's only Wednesday. After a day of cardio hip hop, break dancing and learning incredible choreographed routines I went home to hit the shower. That's how you know I got worked. Normally after a hard workout, I'm all about hitting the errands sans an in-between shower. These days though, the dancin madness has got me resorting to cleanliness! I've been sweating like a man...more than an average man probably.  After a shower and Advil I was ready to conquer my to-do list of errands. I started out picking up my bartending paycheck. I just love having two jobs...it makes it seem like there's always someone paying me! My manager (the "mo-fo" abolitionist) had left a message for me earlier asking if I could work on Saturday morning. Let me just say that Saturday is my ONLY day off. In a given week I work forty hours teaching and two nights mixin' 'dem drinks (ok...

This was one of those Monday mornings where I literally say out-loud, "Seriously?!" I skipped the morning cardio due to Daylight Savings aftermath...ie too tired and too dark. I got up and through the a.m. routine (including a bowl of nutritious cranberry oatmeal...adding a dash of cinnamon makes all the difference!) I was out the door in under 30 minutes and only going to be about 10 minutes late for work instead of the usual 15-20.I have this buffer...I technically should arrive at 8:00, however there are rarely students there for morning tutoring before 8:30. So, you can see where the temptation to sleep a little longer comes into play. I decided it would be wise to use my "extra" time and last two $1 bills on an iced decaf from the coffee stand minutes from my house then headed to work, only 3 minutes away. Blinker on, about to turn into school, I realized the delicious beverage had spilled from the bottom of the plastic cup...and onto my boob! This may...

This entry is NOT about what you think it's about! Church kids and their dirty minds! ;) Yesterday on my way to the OC to check some dresses out...one for my sis the bride of course, and one for me and the other bridesmaids, (aka the suckers who have to wear what I deem most flattering on big boobed girls) I got a very important phone call. "Hi this is Sarah (I liked this chick already) calling from "...School"  (about 2 minutes from my house). I have your resume in front of me (who knew, when employers say they'll keep it on file they actually do!) and I have a position open working with 7th graders here at "...." I'm looking to fill the position right away. Please give me a call back." Are you kidding me?! I've been holding out for a job just like this since I came home from traveling! It's a younger staff, incredible school, foot-in-door opportunity, and working with special needs kiddos! I had a few options over the past few m...

I watch Sex and the City like it's my job. I've seen every episode and watch it nightly on channel 5 at 11:00pm (sometimes back to back with an episode at 11:30 too! Depending on how wild my week night gets.) I recently noticed Sarah Jessica Parker's character Carrie screams all...the...time. She screams when she's scared, excited or even as a flirting technique! A friend of mine who is the female version of a "BALLER" (classy, well dressed and very popular with the opposite sex) also is a screamer. I noticed it when she was at my house doing nothing beyond the ordinary routine of brushing her teeth. Her and her boo were staying at my place and happened to be brushing at the same time. Because my bathroom lacks in space, they were both in the hallway, facing each other, and mumbling flirtations over mouth fulls of Colgate. Note: In a relationship where you're totally stoked on each other, even teeth brushing can be exciting...and worthy of a little scre...

During the holidays I consider myself a nomad...lots of movin around, lots of cities, lots of family members I haven't seen in forever. I have to say that out of all the convos, the various inquiries experienced in the past week, my conversation with Aunt Pat had to be my favorite Holiday catch up sesh. Over dinner: "Now did you get implants or are those yours?" Me stumbling: "Um, no...no they're mine." I think I still might feel a little awkward. Oh Patty you never cease to amaze me.