not a happy mengtar.

when working togos at the olive garden, typically 3-4 people have access to the drawer that i take full responsibility for... not the fairest system.

so i got fucked out of some "mishandled" money tonight... about sixty dollars worth... so while i should have walked out with ninety, i have thirty.

do you know how many large hawaiian macadamia nut coffees and bran muffins from jupiter house that is?!?

a lot.

((14.1176))

over a month of caffeine and overly-regular bowel movements. ((but they're soo good!))

it's whatever.

i'm super-questioning faux-giving in chicago this year. i'm not sure if it'd be a better investment to rock it or actually spend christmas with my family. there's no way i can afford both.

when the fuck am i going to pay off my car?

or afford next semester's tuition?

i ran into my favorite crashsite drummer last night. ((swoon)) he apparently just lost his job at kroger for a misweighed salad.

at least i can still steal all the salads i want.

but he will be joining us tuesday for lou's import glass night. excellent.

i'm unable to subdue my drinking habits. even in financially difficult periods, i would let it consume ninety per cent of my budget.

now i even drink alone sometimes.

i haven't decided if i'm a functioning alcoholic, or just an alcoholic.

last night was the most baller time to be had with no camera battery. ((boo-hiss)) jupiter. andys. BOILER ROOM!!! ((new tj's))



the boiler room is FINALLY open. beautiful inside. bar highlights:

working toilets.
hugelor projection screen ((perfect for football and karaoke)).
beautiful bar.
wonderful home-like feeling that i haven't felt in a bar since old tj's.



so afterwards i went to homeboys and watched blazing saddles. ((purely silly)) and passed out.

i meant to wake up at 8.30 so i could do a practice-run on my thanksgiving hairstyle. ((a success)) i don't want to look all scraggily for his family's bird-day dinner. i take my holidays very seriously. but i ended up waking up at 7. i got bored staring at the ceiling giggling at stupid nothings inside my head, and i tried waking him up. that only lasted as long as the festivities. it's whatever. i had some serious hair-business to take care of.



shortly after arriving to work, he sends me a text message....

tx said:

what time did i leave this morning?

now, a question like this presents a problem on a couple different levels.

1- we stayed at his place.
2- i left before him.
3- before leaving, i woke him up and said "it's 830. i'm leaving."
4- maybe i'm wrong.
5- what day is it?
6- oh my god, i think i just traveled time!
7- oh, no? it's still wednesday?
8- i'm so confused.

worked all day. some of my tables were very generous. not enough of them though. too bad. i hope they have a crappy thanksgiving and their turkeys are dry and pies are soggy and their children resent them for it.



also, i'm 3 for 3 on days of running and not smoking.

i forgot to buy crickets yesterday. petco was closed when i got off work. they will be closed tomorrow. ((sorry, snowflake and wellington also. i still love you and might even stay home tonight to hear you sing me thanksgiving morning holiday songs in the morning... maybe... like whether or not you will eat, i make no promises))



happy thanksgiving, everyone! ((except mike case and eric novotney and all the haters in the club))

i died a little inside again today.

it may have been that i bought a skirt. and a sweater. and some of those girly shoes with the open top with a bow and little pom pom ball things.

sick.



oh yeah, and tights.

but listening to gomez' see the world almost makes it better because it sounds like something that i don't remember from the jayhawks' smile.

kind of in one of those funk moods i guess. happy tomorrow!

what time is it?



it is a thousand beers o'clock

last night's early bedtime and late cuddling was the perfect ending to a miserable day of faux-giving recovery. even though i had to wake up hella early.

((here's your photo, bitch))



or



or



i'm toying with the idea of becoming a sex mediator. one who mediates a couple as they discuss their sexual frustrations.

is that a real job? no joke.

cx comes to texas tomorrow and we go to san antonio for the weekend! holy excited batman!



mengtar was perxactly schwasted.

i was about to make a funny joke but my attic critter is squeaking and is plural.

also, mengtar + antibiotics = pooplor.

so my mom was visiting me in texas the last few days. i picked her up at the airport sunday evening and told her we were meeting homeboy for coffee. she seemed almost insulted and insisted we had beer. i didn't argue.



also, we witnessed a legit dance-off. the little guy totally got served.

and now, it's on.



faux-giving was the most baller time i've had in a while. but that may be because i'm still slightly hungover and can't really remember much else... like anything that happened on monday... whatever.

that afternoon we were worried that we wouldn't have enough food. HA! it was definitely in excess. especially desserts. i think by the end of the meal, we were all too drunk for dessert. or maybe i was just too drunk for dessert. also, we had 4 bottles of wine, and no wine glasses.

also, mx and i climbed up into the attic to go critter hunting. no critters. ONE piece of critter poop. but the attic access point is across the house and you can't see what's above my room... disappointing. but fun. also, hot as balls.











but then i totally found another attic above the garage.

i will have you know, that inside the garage attic, was our faux-giving miracle.

gobletish-wine-like glasses, wrapping paper, a twin-sized mattress, checkers board, other glasses, wall paper, plantation drapes, and smelliness.





mx and i were significantly more excited than everyone else about the attic explorations and faux-giving miracle.



also, that picture is the reason mengtar is redieting... after we finish the faux-giving leftovers...



also, sometimes i'm blurry in attics.

then it happened... hey, mengtar, did you know that there are pictures on your computer desktop of you topless with only one nipple ring giving someone a handjob from an awkward angle?

later, i was wrestled to the ground of my bedroom trying to stop everyone from looking at my nakedness. no one looked at my nakedness and it has been removed from my computer... except for a couple where my hair looked really nice or something. here are a couple pg-13 winners.







your welcome.

happy faux-giving!

so i can't help but notice the increasing amount of sexual anonymous comments. and since i decided that i like compliments again, i'm okay with it. please continue until i decide it's creepy.

my mom comes to texas tonight. fucking right! you can expect everything to carry on as usual because my mom is baller.

faux-giving is tuesday. if you are able or interested, it would be appreciated if you could bring something!!! your favorite thanksgiving sidedish like sweet potatoes, cranberries, applesauce, pie, whatever. also, there will be drinking involved. bring your own wine, beer, jagger, whatever. ((also, my mom does jagg bombs... because she is a baller))

so sometimes i do things that i probably shouldn't do. but because there is technically no reason to not do them, i continue my business. however, it's usually just not discussed along with everything else that we avoid in conversation. so it's okay. anyway, sometimes i feel kind of guilty. but that usually subsides when i remember that you're probably doing the same thing, so i shouldn't. and last night i may have drunken concluded by the shock-delayed reaction that you might not be doing the same thing and now you know that i am.

guilt-fest 5000.

when i'm in the shower, i think about what to write on my blog.

also, i fucked up and faux-giving is totally NEXT tuesday. balls. but i still have the next three days off because i am a fuck up. so... let's hang out. we can paint or play sidewalk chalk or you can watch me play katamari or we can masturbate together because that's pretty much all i do now. i painted two beauties that i will hide from everyone until the trio is completed. then it will be exposed and sold on ebay so bballa can make the rent. i also have some clothes you can iron.

also, i'm like a hairless cat... almost.

tomorrow i will buy some crickets so my frogs don't die eventually. if you decide to hang out with me this week, bring a saw. i have a great game called cut my dirt. join me.

my sunglasses that i was upset about losing because i had no pictures in them were found in the passenger car door slot thing. that is not where sunglasses go. i will wait for a good hair day and a quality party scene to happen at the same time so i can photograph them.

i find jupiter's new curly-haired, middle-aged regular and his trendy crew of college nothings zero-degrees shy of obnoxious. also, the braves suck. remember 1991? that is all.

the kharma of my shadey character has caught up with me this week. all obligations have fallen through.

i hate it that listening track 16 and watching grey's anatomy once in forever brings it all back and leaves me flooded with feelings of anger and inadequacy. yet completely empty.

tuesday the 6th is faux-giving.

returning coke habits would make me feel like less of an insomniac. tonight i only seek comfort and dependency. but not chemical.

clara and whoever honestyboxed me ((yes, i acknowledge my complete losery for referencing facebook applications in my blog)), i started writing my book. maybe i should scratch everything and work on an english/journalism degree.

there is something about watching mike play that makes me feel jealous or envious. i haven't decided which. he refuses to give up on his musical dreams that i feel have already passed me by. although i've been handed almost every building block opportunity i could have asked for, i have ammounted to nothing more than an og waitress with non-aspiring dreams of greatness. i deserve this life i live, only barely motivated to change.

i think this weekend will determine a lot.

i met tonight's jupiter barista at the loophole 2 weeks ago. the night i ran into kayla.

it will be days at least before the sub-38 degree cold hits my lungs and reminds me of every time i stepped outside for 20 years. i can't wait to flood my memory though i'm sure it will be followed by feelings of distaste for my southern entrapment.

there is something about sitting outside a crowded coffee shop by myself at 3am that makes me emo. but decidedly so, i should have kept my earmuffs yesterday. although, i wouldn't have this problem at all if i'd have gotten my DC hat from him months ago. but alas, she is in town with him for the weekend. so i will proceed with dangerous levels of caution every time i step into public. if only jack bauer was for hire.

also, that is the first joke of the blog. be ashamed if you smiled earlier. i hate you.

my completely unfunded vacation from the mundane, ordinary and monotony of life is fast-approaching, and my need for it grows exponentially.

i waited on the band director for ryan high. he marched phantom regiment and roomed with ray vasquez long ago before he was dr. ray vasquez. also, he left me five on a sixty. fuck them both. that is all.

short interruptions from chico's broken english story of bar rumbles and unfaithful girlfriends was appreciated. he took great interest in my story. then red kicked him out. i said thank you, but didn't mean it. i enjoy conversing with strangers. everyone has a story. they should be shared. i wish i was here alone last night.

instead, i fell asleep during the first x-men for the pluralth time. but it is a good movie. entertaining with little cinematic merit. my sleep is non-movie-discriminatory. i promise.

also, i will create whatever words i damn well please. get over yourself.

goal for the month: pay shit early and have money left over so i seem less financially desperate when my mom comes.

i haven't decided if i should act completely on emotion or logic. this middle-ground is providing less utility than hoped.

why did the chicken cross the road? because he wanted to maximize his utility.

haha, i should reread naked economics and start a xmas list. it would consist of the needs that will make me happy. like work shoes from that one place in lewisville or highland village or whatever.

on my way back from taking my lactose-intolerant-but-had-alfredo-sauce-at-lunch-poop i was stopped by homeslice with a camera. he was a jeremy or a david. he said "well aren't you dressed like the cutest thing ever." he took three shots and gave me a pat on the head on his way out. i'm glad my bedhead was appreciated even post-hood-removal. matted bedhead. my new look. whatever. he said he would contact me via my blog but after reading this post, that is unlikely. i don't mind.

i also want a laptop.

your apology last night took me by surprise. maybe i was standoffish so you thought i needed it. but the way you brushed off my inquisition made me anxious for the rest of the night. but i know it didn't show.

reading a madman dreams of turing machines requires listening to 311's evolution for at least the first 100 pages.

after six near-miss auto-collisions today, i think kharma is sending me a warning. point taken.

count the hyphens and made-up words in this post. i dare you.