bye july

so once upon a time (like in the beginning of this month) i accidentally got so ghost faced wasted that it crippled me with a 72 hour hangover.  during the hours of me getting to the point of beat up drunk i was hanging out with a couple of friends.  one who had a baby.  and in my drunk state i was all "hey self - you should get your camera and take pictures of the adorable baby."  so i did.  and then promptly forgot all about them until this week.  and then when i went to look at them i was like "oh ya the 4th of july happened.  and also that weekend on the chain 'o lakes."  and then i spent a good amount of time making copies of the pictures of the baby for his dad and weeping over how impossibly adorable his son is.
so i thought i would do a minor recap of all the things i did in july.   which, looking back, was a lot. considering how impossibly lazy i am.
so - things i did included, but aren't limited to, the following crap:
took pictures of baby j and experienced my uterus exploding over all of the adorable and also discovering how cute i find baby drool to be.  wtf.

we saw dave matthews band at summerfest.  which was everything except it was at summerfest and not alpine valley which just wasn't the same.  but dave was as magical as ever.

and then there was the fourth of july where we drank our faces off, ate the most horribly delicious foods, and watched dazzling lake fireworks.

and then we went to waupaca.  and cruised the chain 'o lakes and listened to live bands playing on pontoon boats, and drank beverages, and had much merriment.  and also there were shitler photo shoots because i swear someone whips out a camera and it's the shitler show.

and also shitler bought kan-jam and we went to a graduation party and baby E was adorable as per usual.

july was exhausting.  and i still managed to read sixteen smutty novels.  heyoooo.

also some things i didn't do.

1. run those 100 miles

2. lose ten pounds

3. lay off the wine

UGH.  LIFE IS HARD.  bye.

cross your fingers. and toes.

that cat gif just felt right. and also fitting for a friday.  or i guess any day really.
but i have a plan and it's something that i need to discuss with you guys and also i'm going to need all of everyone's positive energy sent my way in hopes that it will work out. so newsflash i don't want to work the second job tonight.  surprise, surprise.
and the deal is is that i'm not a liar.  so you won't find me making up some bullshit excuse about not being able to work because i'm sick or something.  and i won't not do that because of my moral compass or anything.  mainly i won't do that because i'll forget whatever i made up as my excuse and end up posting something on facebook that will get get me busted.  like go figure i'll be like "I AM SO VIOLENTLY ILL I MIGHT DIE."  and then i'll get drunk and forget and post a picture of me chugging peppermint schnapps or or something and the owner of the restaurant will be all "glad to see you're feeling better."  and then i'll be drunk and won't know how to respond and then everything will be ruined.  so typically i like to err on the side of honesty mainly to save my ass.
but i digress.  back to my plan. the plan is that around 10AM i'm going to text the manager and i'm hoping that the conversation will go something like this:
shannon:  HEY JOHN. john: yes? shannon: i'm probably going to no call, no show for work tonight so could you just tell me that i don't have to work tonight and save us all the trouble? john: fine shannon.  you don't have to work tonight. shannon: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
and then this will be me:

UPDATE:  it worked and zomg HONESTLY REALLY IS THE BEST POLICY. also please note that me no call, no showing was a total bluff on my part because i'm such a giant pussy and also it's just not nice and i would not and have not ever done it.

p.s. his initial response his my favorite.  it's like he know that whatever is coming at him next he's not going to like.  it kills me.

shameful shopping and complaining about it

if there was a contest where you could win a chance to go shopping with regina george i would totally enter it and i would enter it with the force of like an entire high school wanting to win the chance to have christina aguilera come preform one whole song at their high school.  and i say that from experience because i swear that happened in the area where my high school was and i think it was x-tina but i can't be totally positive about that because that was totally like a decade ago.

but shopping.  UGH shopping.  someone give me all the money in the whole wide world so i can buy cat knick knacks and other things that i don't need.  like if i shit money on the regular i would take a page out of miley's instagram and buy like so much crap every single day of my life (go ahead and click that IG link and peruse all her purchases because it's incredibly awesome).  prior to mexico i binge shopped me and shitler almost out of house and home because ZOMG i obviously needed a different swim outfit for all of the fourteen days that we were going to be there.  and also dresses.  and different sandals to match different outfits and ALL OF THE OPTIONS MAKE LIFE HARD.  

with that being said i can honestly say that there is no way in hell that i even need anymore swim suits.  until this weekend when i was reminded of a swim suit top that i had coveted back from my bachelorette party and totally forgot to buy.  so naturally, on monday, i went online and fist pumped my face off when i realized they were now clearance items.  until i clicked on the style wanted and oh the horror it wasn't in my size and i wept something fierce.  but then i was like "well that yellow one is in my size and it's cute enough so i guess i'll just settle on that."  so i did.  and bought it and i was semi-happy and i should see the one i settled for by like tomorrow and it will look like this.

and every day since monday i've obsessively checked the tracking information to see when i will be able to get my hands on it.  but then wednesday i made the mistake of going into my account and instead of clicking on the tracking i accidentally clicked on the item number.  and then, being the curious cat i am, clicked on the style that i had originally lusted over.  and LO AND BEHOLD it was in mother f'ing stock and i lost my shit because hello! that was the one i wanted and now i was at an impasse because there was no way i needed another bikini top and now i would have to pay for shipping again but this was basically a sign from the universe telling me that i needed this, right?  so i bought it.  because duh.  and in all of my disappointed excitement i forgot to have it delivered to work so two separate shipments are going to end up being delivered to the home i share with shitler and he's going to scold me and probably even hide my new stuff and tell me he's teaching me a lesson or something.  but oh well because this shall soon be mine.

so sorry for the worst post ever about how i just bought two new bathing suits and paid an arm and leg for two separate shipping charges and also sorry for being a whiny brat about desperately needing the one bikini top.  it's kind of shameful but i also kind of don't care.

quickly before i go

can we talk about how half days should be an all the time thing? and that even when you do have a half day you still watch the clock and swear that the minutes tick by at a snail's pace?  but either way i get to leave work at noon today and head north to the chain 'o lakes and drink my face off and swim and read smut and be such a giant piece of shit that i don't even care.
but first let's recap just a few things. please read my posts from the past about the chain here and here. then also read my post about my snooch here.

and then also i wanted to share my most favorite favorite favorite picture from the time that i got married. and also this picture should be used as like "THIS IS PEOPLE RUNNING FOR THE WEEKEND." i don't think that makes sense but if it does then we're on the same wave length which is terrifying.

on snooch waxing appointments

once upon i met a girl named katie and we somehow got to talking about waxing vaginas (totally different than waxing poetic) and she raved and raved and raved about her hairless cat and how fantastic it was and i was like "look whore that sounds terrible.  like hot wax and things being ripped?  what if they rip a lip clear off?"  and she all but forced insisted that i had to at least try it and then she gave me the name of her girl and then i nutted up and made the appointment and then i took a bunch of shots and was all "LET'S DO THIS LADY" and that was like three years ago and i've never looked back and i've never shaved my snooch since.  and i'm aware that not all snooches and snooch related things are the same but i'm of the snooch related things variety in which i need to get waxed like every three months.  because apparently after awhile your snooch related things stop growing at the alarming rate that they did before you started waxing.
with that being said the last time there was hot wax on my snootch was right before i left for mexico and that pesky wedding.  and since this weekend is boating on the chain 'o lakes i figured it was time for snooch landscaping.  so i called my snooch waxing girl and tried to hammer out a quick session that would leave me a hairless cat once again but she had zip, nada, zilch available in the appointment department and it left me devastated.  and i was mainly devastated because i needed to take care of my snooch before the weekend and that meant making an appointment with a new wax lady and that, in turn, meant someone else would be added to the list of people who have seen my snooch and i'd like to keep said list as short as possible.  and then, as if i wasn't stressed out enough about the lack of wax, i started compiling a list in my head about all the people that have viewed my snooch.  first there was the first ever snooch doctor appointment when i was like sixteen.  it was a man wearing a polka dotted bow tie and went by the name dr. stuart.  and never again will there ever be a male doctor wielding the duck-billed platypus near my snootch ever again.  and then there was dr. angsten who my mother and her four sisters raved about but i only got in the one time because apparently she is so incredible that there is literally a snooch wait list.  so then i tried a different lady.  her name was dr. schmidt and she was horrible and thought i was lying about my snooch health and its past behaviors.  so then i went to dr. jenn (who, yes, went by her first name and it kind of freaked me out) but that was only for the one time because her hours fluctuated so much that she was like only available on the third tuesday of every other month and only when uranus, jupiter and mercury were lined up on one side of the sun and earth was perpendicular to the sun and also it needed to be a wax moon.  and then finally i decided on one and stuck with her and her last name starts with a "w" and it's impossible to spell so i won't even attempt to spell it but she's really quite wonderful and she comes to eat at the restaurant i work at part time and she usually orders tuna sushi or sashimi and it makes me laugh because this bish has been to my no man's land and lived to tell about.  so already that's five people that have had a viewing of my snooch.  and then there's shitler  and then my wax lady and now we're on to counting those people with two hands and now i have to add a new wax lady and i swear i'm going to lose it if i have to start using my toes to count.
which brings us back to the task at hand.  which is me trying to find someone to wax me quick before i have to pour myself into a bikini and get drunk all weekend.  and googling "ladies who wax vaginas in lake country" doesn't exactly garner you too many valid hits and also when searching for someone it feels like i should have a list of interview questions to ask my new lady but really it's just a stab in the dark and you hope whoever ends up down there with hot wax is like slightly normal and has a steady hand.  so i ended up calling my gym that apparently has a "spa" and i had to wait for a call back because apparently their wax lady doesn't just sit around waiting for someone like myself to call for an emergency wax session.
and i didn't even get to talk to the lady that would be waxing me.  just the sixteen year old girl that mans the front desk, scans me in when i make it to the gym, and tells me to have a great day when i duck out after a twenty minute "work out."  after finally making it through all the fiery hoops and and locking down an appointment the front desk girl said "ok.  so we have you down for the eighteenth at 4:30PM.  it'll be sixty dollars and sixty minutes."  and cue crickets.  and then cue me going "SIXTY MINUTES?"  and then front desk girl goes "is that like a long time?"  and i'm all "uhhhhh ya.  what does she plan on doing down there for sixty minutes?  are you sure you haven't scheduled me a massage?  and no.  not a vagina massage."  and she was like "uhhhhh i don't know.  how long should it take?"  and i was like "ten minutes max! what on earth i don't need it va-jazzled."  and then i gave up and was like "whatever i'll be there on time for my sixty minute brazilian wax."  and then naturally i lamented about my woes on twitter and was promptly saved and directed elsewhere for a wax and to a lady described as a "vagina magician" and HOW DID SHE KNOW I LOVE MAGICIANS?  
so the moral of the story is that the magic happens tonight.  and won't be a sixty minute show. although i will forever wonder about what the sixty minute brazilian wax entailed.
and honestly i'm so excited for a hairless snooch once more that this is currently my face:

and also can we all please start calling our down town business a snooch?  

it's the best thing ever.  if you have some time when you're drunk you should 100% watch iliza shlesinger's "war paint" on netflix because her stand-up comedy is the stuff dreams are made of.

here are two videos i found for you.

if you watch all of "war paint" she'll explain the snooch in great detail.

but in the meantime i give you two short clips that will give you all the lolz i promise.

on a girl's night:

a snooch reference:

biggest little music festival

you know how you know you're old? when you can reminisce (<---spelled that right on the first try!) about all the very basic things you did like five years ago and shudder when you think about them.  like the out passed bar close nights, the road soda'ing, the hangovers, etc.  you get the picture.  and i feel like the older i get the get the less inclined i am to go to places and do things.
case in point: milwaukee.  i'm always so incredibly turned off because parking is hard, places are busy, and also the thirty minute drive down there seems like an eternity.
but for two weeks every year milwaukee is home to the world's largest music festival.  and it's probably one of the few music festivals that houses literally every genre of music for two weeks.  you can go to the same place and see zach brown band, lady gaga, usher, walk off the earth, ludacris, outkast, third eye blind, melissa ethridge, and phantogram (to name a few).
and from noon till midnight every single day there's music and it's pretty magical.
but as magical as it sounds it's also home to things that make my brain explode.  like crowds and long drives and having to find parking.  and when i was a wee lass (like high school age) it was only the coolest thing to do to get drunk on the buses running to and from park and rides down to summerfest and then wander around without any true fear of getting busted by the fuzz because like almost everyone at summerfest was indulging in something mind altering.
but now that i'm not in high school and so, so susceptible to terrifying 72 hour hangovers it feels like i'm allergic to going to summerfest.
but you know what will make you go to summerfest?  dave matthews band not doing a two night show at alpine valley and instead headlining at summerfest with two sets in one night.
that's what.  so that's when i put on my big girl under-roos and brave crowds and underage drunk teenagers and also parking nightmares and enjoy my musical love.

p.s. i hope they play "satellite" - my least favorite song so i can have a bathroom break.

p.p.s let me know if you guys want to come next year and it would probably motivate me to go more nights since you guys would be there.  check out this year's lineup here.

death to shitler being right

can we talk about how i constantly bail on things? it's terrible and i'll 100% cop to it. like this is my whole life summed up in one meme.

and why is it that you (or maybe it's just me) have the very best of intentions of doing other things when you're embroiled in something else?  like when i'm work all i think about in my head is how if i weren't at work that i would be doing like a skajillion other more productive things.  

laundry?  i'd get every single piece of dirty under-roos laundered and put away in their respective drawers (which is quite the huge feat since i'm the queen of leaving piles of folded laundry strewn around the house).

work out?  i'd kill it.  like a full hour of cardio, followed by intense weight lifting and core work, and then finish everything off with a stretch session.

clean and organize?  oh man would i get that office space organized and all the dishes done and everything in the whole place swept, and the floors cleaned, and maybe go through tons of stuff that i don't need and get rid of it rather than just watch things i don't need accumulate in my life.

meal prep?  i would plan the shit out of healthy meals for like a week.  possibly even make mason jar salads my bitch.

read super intelligent books?  YUP.  because if i weren't at work i would totally be reading war and peace and i would just be plowing through it and thinking super intellectual things about it.

but what's hilarious about all those things that i totally convince myself i would be doing if i wasn't at work end up maybe happening but in like the most half-assed of ways.  as in i put in a load of laundry and forget about it.  i work out but it's a mediocre half an hour on the elliptical while i concentrate more on watching the real housewives of anything.  my cleaning consists of just moving things around so it looks less cluttered.  meal prep seems like a lot of work so a frozen pizza it is.  and reading war and peace takes a backseat to putting on reruns of new girl and reading smut instead.

but the worst thing is that when you actually do follow through on the things you said you were going to do in the manner that you intended on doing them it makes you end up feeling super accomplished and really good about yourself.  go figure.

for instance once upon a time i committed to running a 5K.  like paid for it and actually made the effort to try and run every day to at least make the running of the actual 5K a little less painful.  but then the day before said 5K i panicked and refused to do it.  shitler was out of town and kept pestering me about whether or not i was excited for the 5K the next day.  i had zero intention of telling him that i was going to bail but then he wouldn't let up and i finally confessed and he berated me until i promised that i would get my shit together and make good on something that i said i was going to do.  and i ran it.  and i ran it semi-well and i felt really good about it and son of a bitch shitler was right.

or once upon another time i promised shitler that i would go to some nonsense carnival and i can honestly say that in the back of my mind i prayed for rain so that maybe we would end up not having to go.  but shitler was so excited and all he talked about was wanting a funnel cake and wanting to eat said funnel cake with me and i was like "ugh fine we can go but for like one half hour."  but when we got to the carnival and there were pickles on sticks and a tilt-a-whirl - it was game over and guess who had fun and guess who was right?  again.

so i'm sure you might be wondering what the point of this whole entire thing was.

and there is a point; albeit a simple one.

i have dinner plans tonight.  and i was going to cancel because i had gazillion household chores that needed to get done (that probably wouldn't have gotten done had i bailed on dinner) and also my allergies were wreaking havoc on my face and also my couch..  but shitler told me i had to go and that i can't just make plans and then bail.  and, in this instance, he's right.  so that's the point.  that i'm going to dinner tonight.  although i'm sure shitler will try and twist this into the fact that i'm admitting he's right all the damn time.  which he isn't.

also if i don't hear this song tomorrow night i might cry.