seraphcelene: (Default)
Well, not exactly. Although, I'm as exhausted as if I had. Feel vaguely hung over, too, but I didn't drink not a lick of alcohol. Not one single solitary beer. I had fun, anyway.

I went to the Nine Inch Nails concert last night. C-Dogg's boyfriend is their Tour Manager and scored us Club seats at the Forum and VIP All-Access passes. Because of the passes we actually watched the show from the floor by the sound booth. It was the best place to be because the lights and the motion graphics were phenomenal and you've got to see them. Trent Reznor puts on a fine, fine show and I highly recommend it.

It was very good times. The first set was the newer rock stuff and then it segued into the very new instrumental stuff (which I highly recommend. I'd heard some of it on KROQ so wasn't surprised) and then back into the rock. They played straight and did five songs on the encore. It was really, really good. TR comes up with all the concepts and the guy's pretty brilliant.

It was my first concert, guys! Can you believe it? I'm claustrophobic, which is usually not a big deal, but the idea of large crowds kinda wig me out a little. We stayed far enough in the back to avoid the sea of people sardined on the first half of the floor AND get the best view of the stage. Crowd energy was awesome and the sound guy was rocking out from note one. He was almost as entertaining to watch as the show itself. The opening act, a small time Georgia band called Deerhunter, was pretty uninteresting. A lot mistakes in the sound cues, a little off-key, no stage presence to speak of. But that's not what people were there for and we only had to sit through maybe three or four songs.

We were supposed to get to meet the band, but Reznor cancelled all the meet and greets, etc, on account of being sick. He also cancelled all of his interviews and what not and some shows over the last few weeks. By the end of the show you could hear the strain in his voice, but it was still excellent.
seraphcelene: (Default)
I shook my money-maker like pro.

Bacardi Girl hosted Girl's Night in the OC. Irvine, woo-woo!! And being who she is in the game, she bought a bottle for the girls at a swank little place called Sutra. It's one of her accounts, yo! So, Grey Goose Orange was the beverage of choice for the night.

It was a dancing good time, lemme tell you. The DJ was on point, spinning the danciest of the dance hits on the ones and twos. The dance floor was PACKED. There was barely room to move, let alone shake your ass. We managed anyway cause we are troopers and fierce like that! The night was also might international. I got pick-up attemps from an Irish man named Connor, who I regaled with tales of my exploits in Ireland (from Dublin to Inish Mor), and Eduardo, a very, very pretty Spaniard who I suspect is a co-ed at UC Irvine. OMG! Robbing the Cradle. That is how I do it!!

Eduardo was very insistent on continuing the party elsewhere, but there are rules for these kinds of things and I regretfully headed out with the girls at the close of the night. But it was an AWESOME good time, you guys! The random chicken heads in the club were all OC'd out. The guys were hot and some not. Thousandairs mingling with the International crowd. It was so, hot! And did I mention how the dancefloor was packed? It's a good thing ZuZuQ and Sin didn't roll this time cause they would have died. Me? Me and Bacardi Girl busted a move all night on the dancefloor.

Now, I've got an hour and a half to catch some Z's and then I gotta meet my girl Tex for lunch. I hope you guys have as fun a weekend as I am (despite the rain, thank you very much).
seraphcelene: (Default)
Hola, kidlets!

I have been busy, hoo boy and it doesn't promise to get any better. With the holidays ramping up into full swing, I'm sure you're all feeling the pressure as well. So, just before I fall off the face of the map again. I'll fill you in on a few things.

ExpandHow I spent my weekend )

ExpandIWRY Fic Marathon )

That's me, kids!

For the remainder, I will be finishing up sundry applications, attempting to finish one more fic before year's end, seducing the Giant Cutie-Honey, and eating too much chocolate.

I hope that you all will be up to the same.

Oh, and also, I am charmed by Tin Man even though I find Dorothy Gale (aka DG) to be pretty uninteresting. Why is it that everbody else has angst and delicious back story except for her. Not to mention they all have better names. I mean how do we go from Azkadellia to DG, for heaven's sake.
seraphcelene: (Default)
What I was going to post yesterday, before I got so painfully side tracked, was about the best worst pick-up line ever.

So, you know, I had my first weekend out since August. Among other things, the pesky pinched nerve put the brakes on me doing the RoboCop in public. Friday night we celebrated Bacardi Girl's birthday and went to a too cool for you, trendy la-la-land nightclub in Downtown L.A.

It was gangsta, yo! We had bottle service complete with a little box to lock-up the alcohol lest someone run up, swipe your beverage and chuck it over the balcony. I can picture it all now: "Bitch, that's my man." *Crunch* "Ha! Take that with your bottle service."

I got picked-up. But only just a little. He was really sweet, but I will admit to being a little put-off by the chest tattoos. Not that I mind tattoos, but they were a little more prison yard then I'm used to. Yes, I did give up the digits because, like I said, he was really sweet and you never know. He texted me on Sunday instead of calling and I dislike texting with a pretty firey passion. Oh, well, c'est la vie.

Now, Saturday night ... well, Saturday night was gold. We watched trollops in mini-skirts ride the bull over at Union Cattle. Union Cattle isn't my most favorite place to go because there's just nothing to do. I like dancing.

We left for pizza at Paisano's and I got eyeballed up by a scruffy surfer in a disreputable beanie hat. He had a cute smile and when he asked if he could talk to me, I said sure, why not.

First of all, let me say, homeboy had no Game at all whatsoever. And you don't have to be super-slick Playa Playa to impress me. Just decent convo will do. Alas! He had none. Then he made the miskate of kicking the second worst pick-up line ever.

Gameless: So, yeah. I'm looking to get kinda crazy tonight.
Me: Oh, yeah? (all the while eyeballing my pizza because I am HUNGRY.)
Gameless: Yeah, you know. A little crazy ... with anyone.
Me: *blink* Oh. Well, good luck with that. I have pizza waiting.

See me return promptly to my pizza.

Seriously?! I'm looking to get crazy with anyone? Dude, even if you have Game, that line is guaranteed to kill it dead with one shot.

Seriously. Dead.
seraphcelene: (by violetsmiles)
San Francisco was a blast!! Mostly.

Yo!Mello and I flew up on Sunday morning, walked from Union Square to the Fisherman's Wharf and cabbed it back in time to shower and change for Ian Siegal.

On the way, I killed my calves in an insane attempt to climb that first crazy hill on Powell. Damn, dude! WTF? We turned right instead and zig-zagged our way into Chinatown. And wasn't that fun. Interesting smells, the chatter of faux crickets and the bright, distracting glitter of sundry totchkes. Yo!Mello was lured into a jewelry store by a coral and gold ring only to be told by the proprieter that it was 'maybe' too expensive for her. Indeed it was and we laughed and rolled our eyes on the way out.

Then we had double yolk Moon Cakes. OMG and never again!! Although, Yo!Mello enjoyed it far more than me. I was just grossed out. Ah, c'est la vie. To each his own. And then we met an old college roommate of mine for a late lunch and coffee and that was the most fun ever! We caught up and talked and laughed and it was the best time! I can't believe how great she looked and she's MARRIED and I got to meet her husband. OMG!!

Then the real fun began because we got to see Ian Siegal and it was the BEST TIME EVER!!! He was on fire as usual and the show lasted three hours! The man is a blues singing machine and I am totally in love. *sigh* Just, damn. Yo!Mello and I got up and shook our money-maker's, strutted and I damn near crippled my self. But how could I stay seated when Ian was serenading me with the awesomeness of "Bloodshot"! And for the encore he sung my request: "Big Legged Woman." My only regret is that we didn't get to spend more time with him.

He's going to be in Tacoma and Seattle, I believe next. If ya'll live nearby, I'd highly suggest catching a show! Tell him Libby sent you.

Unfortuantely, what would have been the rockingest weekend since St. Patrick's Day was smudged by tragedy! I went to withdraw money from the ATM only to find that there were no funds and that I was overdrawn by $112.00. OMFG!! I flipped out right there on the sidewalk in front of the bank! I rattled my brain trying to figure out how I had managed to spend $112.00 more than I had in the bank. Well, after I got home on Monday night and proceeded to balance my checkbook I called the bank and turns out Pleasant Holidays ran an unauthorized charge on my account for an amount I had paid a week earlier! I've been told that the money has since been credited back and it's just a matter of waiting for it to hit my bank account. Meanwhile, I am screwed and hungry because I HAVE NO MONEY!

Dude.

Ian Siegal almost makes up for it, but still ... I'm hungry.
seraphcelene: (I am a radioactive squirrel)
Bruises! Dude, I have bruises and I'm stiff. There's nothing like a three day weekend that leaves you with evidence of debauchery. I'm surprised my nipples are still in tact, considering homeboy's propensity for biting. For anyone I've ever bitten, I apologize. I have learned the error of my ways. I can't say the same for pinching, but definitely no more biting.

It was Sin's birthday this weekend and we got into trouble as usual, remember last year and Las Vegas? This time we headed down to Pacific Beach with ZuZuQ and spent the night with The Crazy Jamaican at Typhoon Saloon. Yes, that was me in the mini-skirt and Gwen Stefani hair. Sin was sleek in silver and an itty bitty skirt. It was more of a belt really.

She managed to snag a stalker before the night was even half way over. He wanted to Make Love to her and have Babies, and everything. We managed to hold him off, mostly. He bought her an awful lot of beer, tho'. Sin's mind, however, was firmly preoccupied with some cutie honey (henceforth referred to as The Diver) that she peeped earlier in the night. I hung out with his friend (henceforth referred to as The Snowboarder) while The Diver was MIA, much to Sin's distress. But I was good, ya'll. I made an anti-boy vow and stuck to it.

Unfortunately, my girl is like a blood hound and she homed in on her honey on the way out the door. We're talking last call has come and gone, the light's are on and all of those ten's you thought you were talking to were revealed to be two's. The car key's were in my hand, I was the designated driver, and I was all prepared to wave good-bye to the honey I'd been dancing with. Of course, Sin being the birthday girl and my will power being what it is, after she picked up her man and proceeded to salsa dance on the sidewalk, I let her have her way and off we went with the knuckleheads for a night chock full of naughty badness. Sin got nervous and I had to tuck her into bed myself just to get some alone time on the couch with The Snowboarder.

But whatever dude, it wasn't quite as porntastic as it might have been. It was mostly a hard R on the way to NC-17, but I have bruises to show for it and so does Sin. Damn! I gotta stop hanging with that gal. My anti-boy vow was working SO WELL all the way up until we hit the apartment and then it got shot all to hell. Thanks, chica!

... at least she got birthday sex.
seraphcelene: (btvs santa gift by sadbhyl)
HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND!! I hope you're all up to no-good on this three day bender. Have a good time, but be safe. Remember: designated drivers are always an excellent idea, as are cabs and condoms. Kissing and ass grabbing should always be fun; all things in moderation. So, watch yourselves out there in the big wide world. Have a great time, dance until your feet hurt, wear sunscreen, and finally:

"Don't worry. It'll only seem kinky the first time." -- anonymous
seraphcelene: (btvs santa gift by sadbhyl)
Listen up, cause I'm only telling you this once!

Don't go to Harbor Drive. Just don't do it.

The people are old and unattractive. I swear there were folks there that hadn't seen the sparkle of the disco ball since it was invented. I would have been appalled except that it gives me hope for the future. I refuse to go gently into that good night.

But there's always a darker side to the story. There's the not so bright and shiny veneer of desperation spread across people who have been out partying too long and too often and with no other purpose than to get wasted and meet their One True Love.

I saw that girl AND that guy at Harbor Drive. Actually, I saw a couple of those girls, cougars in too much make-up and cowboy hats. They travel in packs, so beware. You can recognize them by the freckled and leathered skin peeking out of tops intended for plastic girls half their age.

Let me say it now to all those who don't know:
Flashing skin for skin's sake is NEVER a good idea.
Know your body parts, my dears.

There's a trick to it. Maybe just let your a shoulder peek out, or the delicate press of your collarbone. Wear your hair up if you've got a great neck and show off the curve of your spine, the vertebrae pushing upwards like the hungry stretch of a baby's fist.

Show your legs, if you've got'em. Boy do I WISH I had legs like that. You know the ones. Like those four girls standing at the corner of the bar. All of them 5'10" or better with bad posture. They wore kitten heels and bootleg jeans. I say go for the stilettos and a short skirt. Your legs are longer than I am tall. Embrace! Throw your shoulders back and be proud, damnit!

Don't wear an FBI cap with monkey fur boots or that black leather cowboy hat and a button down leopard print shirt. It's just not that cute. For real. Really. I mean, it is pimp, but in ALL the WRONG ways.

As you can tell, Harbor Drive was just obviously too Fab for us. Sin and I managed to hang for a good hour before we scooted out. We ended up at The Underground, tricked out and too cute for our own damn good.

Still, it was a good time. We met up with 2x4, MonkeyTime and his knuckleheaded friends and had too many drinks. Thanks, Sin! Loved the Tuaca bombs. That's your new drink, my loves! A shot of Tuaca dropped into the energy drink of your choice. Me? I'm partial to Rockstar, except under house party circumstances, in which case it's all about the Liquid Crack. That, however, is another story, although the effects are almost the same.

I didn't crawl home until 6.30 in the AM and then I had to drag my limp and weary body to my Grandmother's. Luckily, there were few ill effects from my Friday night. Just exhaustion, exertion does that, plus ... insomnia and I have become REALLY good friends in the last week and a half.

So the moral of this little tale? Harbor Drive isn't quite what it's rumored to be and never drink Coco-Cola with Pop Rocks. Your head just might explode.
seraphcelene: (I am a radioactive squirrel)
I am tired, kids. Exhausted even. It was not a game this weekend and I partied like I was twenty-three again. Somebody remind me next time that I am no longer twenty-three!

Still it was nice to party like a rockstar even if it was for only a little while. We overcame bad weather, overcast and rainy all damn day, and long lines down at the pier, we waited for close to an hour to get into Patrick Molloy's, for two nights full of rip-roaring, heel-kickin' good times. Sin and I, joined by her sister GhettoFab, rolled in wearing green t-shirts with snappy sayings spread across our boobs. I was mighty surprised, the other girls should have tried it because we got mucho love from all the hot dudes. My T-shirt read "I'm not Irish but kiss me anyway, Sin's said "I recycle boys", and GhettoFab's read "I kiss girls". We were rockin' cute and ran into all sorts of knuckleheads. Even got the party started on the dance floor despite the crackhead DJ who spun the most tragic mixes ever. It's why I prefer Sharkeez for sheer dancing fun.

The only tragedy about the night was that we headed home way early! We started the night off with Irish Car Bombs but Sin killed it with Red-Headed Sluts. 10.30 saw us staggering over to Paisano's for pizza and then how we managed to get home I still don't quite recall.

I swear I used to be a good girl and then Sin moved two blocks off the Pier and now I am dissolute and scandalous! *sigh* I'll never get into Heaven this way.

Still, it's fun in the meantime because this weekend the party had only just started and we kicked off Saturday with a 9am breakfast at Hennessy's which included Mimosa's. YAY!

There was even a St Pat's Day parade full of the wacky and random. We managed to last an hour and a half before heading off to Sharkeez where we confessed to rating guys as they walked into the bar. "You know, black shirt guy ten points, green shirt guy three points." One guy actually came back to get his rating at which point I had to admit that there was no rating system but that I was actually plotting my strategy for world domination.

Oh, good times. Good times. But that wasn't even the best part. The best part was when Sin's ex-ex roommate showed up and we girls, gently inebriated, headed off to her ex-boyfriend's house for a party. There were fifteen people at his party when we arrived and they were all boys! Needless to say, we turned out to be the life of the party because we definitely know how to keep it rowdy. It was crazy! There were photos of nekkid ass whoppings and 80's power ballads, water gun battles and shots of Hypnotique. Sin even got stalked by a hottie with bright green eyes who wanted to marry her before the night was out. I loved it! And because you know my nights are NEVER really complete unless I get to kiss a boy, I met a super cute saxophone player from San Francisco. He was kinda shy and all into his music and one of the better kissers I've ever encountered.

Good Times I tell ya, good times! We were beat the next morning and didn't actually make it home until after 10.30. 24 full hours of Party! OMGAWD WTF! Sin still feels Half-Dead. Me? I'm walking and that's gotta count for something.
seraphcelene: (btvs santa gift by sadbhyl)
Happy St. Patrick Day my peeps! I bet you guys didn't realize you're my peeps, too. *grins* I have declared it thus, and so you are. What do you think about that?!

Having been to London and Ireland, I have to say, that St. Patrick's Day is another one of those strangely American holidays that has nothing to do with anything anywhere else in the world despite the fact that it's considered an Irish holiday. It really isn't. It's mostly an American thing. An excuse to drink because Puritanical folks that we be, we can't just enjoy a pint without recrimination.

America, why can't we just get drunk? I ask you!

No matter, we're a-celebratin'.

I hope you all enjoy your day, pinch lots of non-green bottoms and enjoy a shot of Bailey's with your pint of Guinness. Kiss lots of boys (and girls) and bust a move out there on the dance floor.

Don't let me hear that you didn't have fun. Got it? Good.

Hijinks!

Mar. 6th, 2006 12:21 pm
seraphcelene: (btvs santa gift by sadbhyl)
How sad is it that I find my shiny new job BORING after only three point five months.

*is sad*

I look forward to the weekends first thing on Monday morning, once my brain has been caffinated and de-fogged. Once I am awake enough to realize that I am bored.

Then Friday rolls around and I am so antsy and relieved that all I can do is get into oodles of trouble.

That said, this weekend I:

1. Kissed a boy, age 22. He wanted to be friends after that, but I only did it for the camera. Back off, junior.

2. Hit on my hot, committed barback. (Actually this one doesn't count because I do it EVERY weekend. It's our relationship.)

3. Picked up a pretty hockey player with grey eyes, the sweetest lips and a smart mouth. Needless to say, he was the biggest of big trouble and we had a fab time. Unfortunately, Canada wanted him back, so I had to say bye-bye to the pretty hockey player.


Now, what did ya'll get into this weekend?
seraphcelene: (Default)
If I were cool, fabulous, and lucky at life, I wouldn't be stuck here at work on a day without a lockbox. I also wouldn't be stuck here completely exhausted because my downstairs neighbors woke me up out of a dead sleep with loud sex! And boy do I wish that sentence were more fun than the reality.


Also? kids! I would highly suggest that all you SoCal kittens head down to The Conga Room on Wilshire for big time dancing fun. You even get to choose between Salsa and Hip-Hop. We celebrated The Crazy Jamaican's birthday on Saturday with a night chock full o' dancing and drinks. I sweated like a slave, yo! It is not a game down at The Conga Room. Dancing is what THEY DO! So wear your comfortable kicks, but BE CUTE!

AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY to [livejournal.com profile] annakovsky!!! Watch out, darling. [livejournal.com profile] swmbo's got it out for you.
seraphcelene: (I am a radioactive squirrel)
Hola kids! I had a beautifully, long weekend, the like of which I haven't seen in these many moons. And we're not talking an extra day because I decided to play hooky and skipped worked. We're talking a leisurely, I-really-have-nothing-better-to-do-than-chill-and-hangout kind of weekend. It was hot in the shade down here in SoCal, upper 80's easy all weekend. Humidity was in the low teens and the sky was clear and blue and wildfire threatened to continue wreaking havoc through the Southland. Luckily enough, I live at the beach and ignored the gentle murmurings and red flag warnings popping up on news.

On the broadcast front, the joke with all the weathermen consisted of "HA HA East Coast, we here in Southern California, dressed in our board shorts and flip flops, mock the monkey pants off you who sit bundled in gloves and hats waiting out the blizzard of the year. Mock Mock Mockitty Mock Mock."

I must say that I, too, heartily enjoyed the unseasonably warm SoCal weather. Cause let's face it people it really does rain in Southern California and this is not your usual February. If I weren't sure I'd say we were having a La Nina year. Alas, I don't remember El Nino roaring through last season, so ...

Me and the girls made the most of the sun and surf, heading down to the Pier on Friday night in tank tops and jeans. I was ready for a night of good old fashioned foot stomping, but since Pattycakes didn't roll with the crew, I wasn't holding out much hope for a night full o' dancing. However!! ZuZuQ, after making fun of my comfy kicks and harassing me into a pair of sparkly gold flats, was on a mighty roll and bought rounds of drinks and shots throughout the night. For EVERYONE. You guys should have come, we made FRIENDS that night, I can tell you. I had to put on the breaks when ordered the Red-Headed Sluts cause I don't do Jaeger. I did however suck down a shot of Tuaca, a Scuba Steve and Sambuca. There were rounds of straight Jack being served up but I passed on those too.

The tab wound up to a majestic 142 smackers at which a bar random (who missed the rounds) leaned over and said: "Damn! How much do you girls drink?). Not to be shy, cause we can put a dint into a stockpile o' liquor, but Friday night was not all our doing. No one got sick, barfed or otherwise passed out. A good night any way you look at it because ...

I managed to snag a cute little twenty-three year old to suck face with. He whispered naughty tidbits sweet nothings into my ear and I reveled in the mighty power of girlhood.

I know ... I really shouldn't be corrupting the youth, but he was so very corruptible.

We skipped out early because, you know, getting old! and headed over to Paisano's for, you guessed it, pizza. We managed to make it back to Sin's just in time to bust in on Emperor Zod in the shower. I'm sure he didn't know what to think. Not that he could do much, trapped in the shower as he was until we all finished taking a piss.

After a night full of debauchery, I had breakfast with Sin and her roommates Saturday morning and headed off to conquer my cell phone company around 11.30. I didn't make it back to Ghetto Beach until after 5.

Sunday was spent cruising the beachside with Cleatus and Otis. We hit up Shoreline Village and watched all the little people holding hands in the Marina. Ate lots of ice cream and had the bestest breakfast ever at Eggs, Etc. Cleatus fell in love with the pancakes and demolished the Hungry Man breakfast. Even the waitress was impressed.

A nap was in order after that because, again, with the age. And I managed to roll awake in time to catch Desperate Housewives and Grey's Anatomy! YAY!! Grey's Anatomy!!

Obviously I had a good weekend, what about you crazy kids?
seraphcelene: (Default)
So, holiday weekend.

This chica-nina has mucho grande plans and nothin's gettin' in the way o' 'em. See how I kicked the lingo there? That should be proof positive that I'm serious about this. It ain't a game, my sweets.

My weekend officially began at 3.15 this afternoon when my boss let me off half an hour early. I have this Friday off anyway, AND Monday. What does that mean? FOUR DAY WEEKEND! Woot! So. The Plans are to party it up Friday night through Monday morning. We're talking adult content here people. Booze and pretty boys. I will be slapping asses, so beware.

Friday:
Blue Beet in Newport Beach. 9pm. I'll be the one in the mini skirt and platform shoes.

Saturday:
driving to Santa Barbara around 1pm (Sin, Pattycakes and I are hitting the bars downtown, man!)
PARTAY!!!

Sunday:
Hermosa Pier at 3pm (we're meeting up with ZuzuQ who had to work this weekend)

Monday:
will be in serious recovery, we're talking mostly sleep, here.

Thus, our itinerary for the weekend. I'll try to drop by LJ on Monday and check the topics for the drabble challenges I've been participating in lately. See if I can crank something out past the headache. Don't doubt, dears, this weekend I'll be living like a rockstar. I'm even dragging Bingo!Betty along for part of the ride.

Be safe, cuties and have a fabulous time. This is the end of summer she-bang so do it right! Or Get It Done! Whatever you prefer. But whatever it is you do, please, do it big! Can't wait to hear all the stories.
seraphcelene: (Default)
Saturday nights are party nights. It's a truth like the grass is green and the sky is blue, except of course for when the grass is that yellow brown color of dead and the sky is gray, or when it's night and it's black. It's also true that fine, young things like to party and if we're talkin' SoCal livin' than I'm your gal. Leading the charge since 1999 (or maybe not, but really).

The Pier crowd was rather plainish, but I managed to kiss four boys anyway. Remember how I gave up the title of Kissing Bandit? Well, it's Labor Day weekend, I get a four day holdiay AND all my girls are currently single. That could mean that there will be a mighty amount of fun to be had and boys to be kissed. Let's just say that Saturday night was a practice round.

We danced, we flirted; Bingo!Betty got shitfaced within the first hour. She downed a bucket of Shark Attack practically on her own. Ah! Mother's Milk. She then proceeded to light up with MotorBike and Pattycakes out in the parking lot. I groaned and sucked down a whiskey sour in the desperate hope that they didn't get caught and we all got kicked out. See, Bingo!Betty doesn't go out often. She's gorgeous but she's married with two kids. So, we took her out and showed her the world. I'm surprised, still, that she didn't puke all over it.

Fun was had by all, even Motorbike who, rolling five deep with nothing but girls, hit the dance floor and busted a move all damn night! We nearly broke something on that stage and everyone managed to get mauled at least once.

Through the stupor I managed to get stepped on and now I'm sporting a busted toe. I promise it won't keep me down and out of the game for this weekend. I also snogged just about everyone on the way out the door. Pattycakes was scandalized by how often I grabbed ass. See, she's never seen me on a bender. Usually, I'm the one driving. I'm friendly on a regular day, don't let me get liquored up. I *WILL* grab your ass and everyone else within reach. If you're a guy and I'm also bored, I might even kiss you. Because I like the kissin' and sometimes a girl's just gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

So, Labor Day Weekend. We got big plans my peoples. There's all sorts of debauchery on the menu. Anyone is a likely suspect. Watch out. That hand on your ass just might be mine.
seraphcelene: (dawn skin deep by aurora north)
Well, it would seem that Baz Luhrman was right. I see that now, and I would like to apologize to my friend's of fairer complexions for all the times I teased and mocked your inability to spend any significant time in the sun.

Apparently, neither can I.

I currently sport a rather nasty sunburn. It's not as red as it was yesterday or the day before that, but it is still, if not more so, completely uncomfortable. I am also wearing a semi-permanent tank top. It is three shades lighter than my arms, upper chest and face. Not to mention, less red.

This Sucks!

I am hot and uncomfortable and I have a tan line for the ages. Everyone is laughing. I blame Sin. It's her fault entirely that I was out for three hours in the blazing sun.

I spent Fourth of July at a Parade and this is the entry I wrote but never posted. So, here it is. Incidentally, I was vaguely hung over from the night before (spent dancing on bars at Shark's Cove in Hermosa) and it was so overcast that morning that I forgot to apply SPF. Never again, I say!

Fortunately, I have found a super-duper-peachy-keen sunblock. I don't typically like sunblock/sunscreen because it's so oily. This one isn't. In fact, I have become obsessive about applying it because it smooths on and dries like a lotion so that I feel like I don't have any sunblock on at all. I am in heaven.

Now all I have to do is get rid of the tan lines.

Brought to you by:
Neutrogena Ultra Sheer Dry-Touch Sunblock. SPF 45.
seraphcelene: (smashed)
Vegas was FABULOUS!!! 99 in the shade and I was super, sexy pin-up girl in a black and pink bathing suit lounging by the pool and trying to tan the gams. All Marilyn Monroe because let's remember that Real Women Have Curves!

Bacardi Girl got our room (Paris) at a discount because she knows people who know people in the industry -- don't you just love the way that works? For those of you who have forgotten, Bacardi Girl works for Brown and Foreman. Her Las Vegas rep graduated from the Hospitality department at ULV. He knows EVERYONE! Ain't it grand? What's even better is the VIP bottle service he arranged for Sin's birthday on Saturday. We gussied up and headed to Tabu in the MGM Grand. There was a two bottle minimum and the bottles were $325 a piece. Our $750.00 tab was comp'ed. Woo Hoo!!

There was free liquor and dancing on tables. Cute army guys with stacks of dead presidents and double tequila shots. GI Joe slipped me a hundred dollars for a dance. Hooker that I am, I took him up on the offer and we busted a move. Afterward, I hit the main table in the VIP room and worked those previously mentioned curves.

There were five of us -- Sin, Bacardi Girl, me, Bullet-to-the-Brain, and Sin's ex-roommate, Marcia -- two bottles of Grey Goose, five mixers, ice, lime and a hot waitress with legs as long as I am tall. The music was fab and we were cute. I ended up as wasted as I've been in a very, very long time. I'll take a moment to pimp Chasers, for hangover prevention. It ain't bad, my peeps. Marcia ended up walking me back to the hotel. I didn't realize until the next morning that she was as nearly gone as I was. We slipped bills into the slot machines on the way, I won thirty bucks, and Marcia says she had to fight off cuties who wanted to scoop me up and take me home as I perched puking into the flowers. I guess it's good to know that a girl's still got it even when making a sacrifice at the alter of the porcelain gods.
seraphcelene: (Default)
Redux! celebrated her 40th birthday last night at a little dive bar called Mo's in Playa del Rey. The Mouse was well into his cups when I arrived and it was very good to see and be seen. Especially since all of Redux!'s friends think that I am pretty and that is *such* an ego boost right now that I might have to hang out with them more often.

On the downside Mucho Dinero was there and insisted on telling me how much money he was making and how much he loved making so much money and how much he loved his life which included making a lot of money and spending some of it on his clients but always saving enough to buy all of his friends a round of kamikaze shots, which he did when he got to the bar. And he went saki bombing before he got to Mo's and he was going partying some more after he left (with friends) and omigawd if he shouted my name one more time I was going to take him out with a pool cue.

I made it till about 11.30 and then retired for home at which time I discovered that the Pacers/Pistons game had been called due to a brawl. I saw the repeated footage and WTF? All you fans out there who feel it necessary to assault the players from the relative anonymity of the stands -- you are punks!
seraphcelene: (sparklebunny's john and aeryn)
Momentarily contemplating the yummy horror of Jaeger.

Never sure why I do it, when I do do it.

It is a mystery.

You choose

Jun. 25th, 2004 05:56 pm
seraphcelene: (Default)
Not sure which is better, hot or cute. Sin and I were looking might toned and grown-up down at Patrick Molloy's. One particularly intoxicated patron pulled me aside and whispered in my ear, "Your friend's the cutest girl here." I smiled, very slightly, and said that I'd pass the message along.

Of course Sin is mighty cute. Adorable even. So, although I was feeling a little slighted I would never begrudge her a compliment and the chance to be dubbed queen of the ball. (I'm sure it didn't help that I was PMS-ing)

Later, home dude rolled as he was leaving and told her how cute she was. Then, he came and put his arm around me and said. "She is so hot. She is the hottest girl here." I just smirked becase, whatever. But apparantly he was sincere. Sin says he looked at my ass and was like "Yeah. Hot."

I'm not sure how I feel about that.


In other news: [livejournal.com profile] moireach, I have the back-up fic and will post later this evening. I need to add an ending. Sorry it's so delayed.

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