Monday, January 17, 2011

Folks Shouldn't Be Palancin' After The Age Of 34...And Other Musings

It's been such a long time since I've given you a rundown of my weekend, but this one was so eventful, I must.

A Penzo Family Gathering
My cousin had a baby shower this weekend that I was trying to avoid, but after a threatening-ish phone call from Titi Gloris, I trudged out there. And of course, as I feared, William R. Penzo was there trying to play Big Poppa. Bitch. Boo. Bye.

Let's just get to the jokes. A) My mom is straight questioning the paternity of one of my brothers and this boy who showed up talking about he's my dead uncle's grandson. *side eye* Like Mami said "At the next party, I'm cotton-swabbing everybody!" B) I don't understand why there was a DJ. Was I at a club or a church rec room? C) This woman was up in there with a strapless, animal-print spandex outfit. Somebody's grandma. Weighing wayyy too much for her outfit. D) The Jets' game was on. During the shower.

Bank Of America Shamed Me
I didn't have time to pull out some cash from the bank, so I had to swipe my card for everything. Then came the email from Bank of America: suspicion of fraud activity. I was so frustrated because I JUST had someone scamming on my bank account. But when I called, the list of purchases...were all mine. "We just flagged it because of the unusual activity." Yes. Thanks for reminding me that I'm a broke loser that hardly ever goes out.

Folks Shouldn't Be Palancin' After The Age Of 34
My bff was in NYC from LA for her birthday weekend and LAWD are these old bones TIRED. We went out Saturday AND Sunday, dancing like we're still young enough to be moving our bodies in such a manner! I won't spill too much of what went on (What happens in NYC during L's birthday weekend, STAYS in NYC during L's birthday weekend!) but here's the song that was at the center of all the tomfoolery:



It's my new favorite song. Don't play it around me unless you're ready for all 190 pounds of me to mash up de place.

...And Of Course Now My Body Hates Me
I had to pop two Aleve this morning and drink my weight in water. Like for real, who the hell do I think I am, a dancehall queen or something? Basically look at this video:



That was me, minus the skimpy outfits and the booty. Now my knees, thighs, back and arms are all, "So it's carnival, huh bitch? I'll show you carnival..." Ouch. I get it.

The Things Left Behind
With all this partying and the MTA being a dickwad with the whole shuttle buses replacing my train nonsense, two very important items never got covered on my to-do list: meditation and writing. I didn't skip meditation on purpose but I was running around so much I just plumb forgot. Apparently I was only able to get it done during the week because I have a pretty set schedule. Come the weekend I'm a hot mess. And my creativity level, child, I don't know what's up with it. And seeing as I have a reading scheduled for the end of the month, SIGH, I need to get it together. *sad face*

*smooches...good and tired.*
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I'm actually looking forward to a quiet and regimented week. I need structure in order to function. fuck my free spirit!