And so today ends a 30-day month where some of us made a promise to write everyday.  I would like the record to show that this is maybe only the second promise IN.MY.LIFE I have seen through to completion.  The first was that whole Meatless Month thing and after impressing myself with that, I vowed to complete NaBloPoMo for myself.  To say I was gonna do something and actually follow through with it.  Who the hell knew I could promise to the internets that I would live without meat AND promise to stranger friends that I would write every day and I did.  I actually did!  Surprisingly it was nowhere near as painful as I expected.  In October I felt I had to drag things out of me.  Days and days would pass without word from me.  Yet in November, my life grew horrifically boring and I still managed to write about it.  Lucky you.

These days I find myself having nothing of interest going on in my life.  No dates, no sex, no silly city-girl escapades.  Hell, not even any insect invaders in the ‘ol SFAH to report.  Such bore!  Sure there were weddings and Jews and friend drama but seriously folks, my life has hit an all-time low.  Booooring!

MP and I do this thing before bed where one of us whines to the other, “Tell me a story … Please.  Tell me a story …”  And for the last 13,286 times he has asked me this I reply, “I got nothin’ kid.  Nothin.”  At the end of my days he asks how my day was.  To which I reply, time and time again, “Good.  Busy, but good.  Nothin’ new.”  To which he begs me to tell him a sttoorryyyyy.  And in every one of these moments I reflect upon how fucking boring my life is.  I don’t know if it’s a mid-seasonal transition thing.  Where the red leaves have fallen and we’re waiting for winter to show up so we’re just doing this wait-and-see game with the seasons.  So we’re in the in-betweens.  Somewhere in a seasonal “taint” if you will …. waiting for some event to happen.  To talk about.  To share.

When that something happens, I promise you will be the first to know.

Uh, so I signed up for NaBloPoMo and uh, I’m already confused.  Am I supposed to post on their site and it feeds here?  Or do I post here?  I don’t get it.  I’m tired and think I’m biting off WAY more than I can chew.  Cause as you have witnessed, I’ve had a very hard time posting these days but I guess that’s why I am putting myself up to the challenge.

Remember when I did that thing with the meat and I didn’t think I could do it?  Well I totally DID IT!  Hell, I lived completely meat-free for like 7 weeks (except *ahem* for the man meat which has WAY less calories.  Hahaha!)  So i figure if I can do that, I can TOTALLY do this.  Only, um …. I’m writing this on the 2nd and back-dated the post until the 1st so I am cheating already.  Nobody likes a cheater but everyone likes someone who confesses their sins right away, right?  Cheater cheater pumpkin eater … made a promise and couldn’t follow the rules.  Oh hum.  Well, I’ma do my best.

And Grace - my advice to you is when you have the time or the extra creativity (HA!  Hilarious!  Who the hell has extra creativity?  Haha!) … I suggest you write more than one post a day and date them to post in the future.  See, Al Gore and his interwebs and WordPress/Blogger let you set the date you want this thing to publish.  I am cheating and posting this on the 1st (when really it’s Sunday the 2nd) so you can do it in the future, too.  Oh interwebs, you so crazy.  (Please note, this ‘cheating’ also means I am technically writing twice tonight because I am going to also write a post to legitimately post on the 2nd.)  Am I confusing you yet?  Boring you to death?  Awesome!  It’s gonna be a great month.

And speaking of awesomeness and stupid promises …. wait until you see what’s in the next post.  That I’m posting “tomorrow” but it’s actually posting in 10 minutes.  Oh God, I hate myself already.

…. after arriving home from my very long meeting with my amazing boss that I adore and who clearly adores me cause she’s giving me a promotion AND a raise (woohoooo!!!), I had to deal with THE MOLD!

My landlord called earlier in the day letting me know that the insurance company would be coming over at some point on Friday to assess the damage. I put plastic bags on my hands and shoved all the nasty, soaking wet, filthy, moldy, GORGEOUS WINTER COATS into trash bags. I carted the box outside and left the shit alone. I turned on the de-humidifier, opened the windows and headed out for a congratulatory meal. I didn’t call friends. I didn’t make reservations at some classy place with a chilled bottle of pinot at my table. Nope. I ran out in a ratty pair of pants, a tank top with a shelf bra and my hair in a head band to go eat some meat. Some god damn meat, people!

A local burger joint opened in my hood a couple months ago and I have been holding out. Holding out for what, I don’t know … (holding out for a hero to the end of the night?) cue Bonnie Tyler. As I was walking over to said burger place I called my mom and was like “OMG! DGMS! I TOTALS JUST GOT A PROMOTION!!” Then, “Hey Dad, they throwin’ some more bills at a bitch. I COULD DIE! COULD YOU DIE!?!” I order my burger, set my wallet and pop at the window seat, turn around …. and there is my hero.

Dear God in Heaven Dr. Stud from the ER! WHY NOW? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME NOW? There is his beautiful black self with his beautiful black children, shoving his face with a burger as I am standing in front of him, shelf bra and head band ‘n all, thinking about meat and mold and WHY AM I RUNNING INTO HIM NOW? I am CLEARLY embarrassed and sometimes he seems to stumble over his words too. Wait, I’ve totals told you guys about him. Remember when I was busy going to the pool and getting all dark and he was all, “hmm, maybe you have a little *wink* *wink* in you”. Oh wait, I don’t think I posted about him. Ok, he’s the head of the ER, he’s young, black and beautiful and when he mentioned my maybe being *wink* *wink* like him I wanted to say, “That would explain this ASS!!”

Ok, now we’re all up to speed. The man is seeing me in all kinds of ugliness and yes he is married but this is not the point. You don’t want your own grown up version of Jordan Catalano seeing you with spinach in your teeth, right?

In my utter STUPIDITY I mention to him that this is the first meat I’ve had in over 6 weeks (that’s what she said) to which he replies - with eyes popping out of his sockets - “I hope you have access to the bathroom all alone tonight. PHEW!” This man whom I love running into in the hallways, this man who is so stinkin hot in scrubs, this man who gets me all fired up about Obama just mentioned MY POTENTIAL MEAT-RELATED ASS EXPLOSION: #1 in the middle of the restaurant and #2 in front of his children. Clearly, a potential ass hazard is NOT a big deal to a man who runs an ER but I was MORTIFIED! MOR-TI-FIED, people! I awkwardly said, “Uggh, it’s taken me weeks to make this decision because of my fear. And ugh, I’ve got it all planned out, thanks.” WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO SAY? I could die. I.COULD.DIE!

I picked up my burger, having not eaten at all that day and happily shoved every last carcass morsel in my mouth. And you’re DAMN right there was bacon on there. (Molly, please still run away to a hippie lesbian makeup goddess commune with me!!) The burger was so amazing and it definitely hit the spot after such a crazy day. Then ….

I remembered I was out of toilet paper and dear god in heaven all over again if this thing really goes to blows, so to speak, what the hell would I do with no TP? So I ran to the 7-11 on the way home and what did I see? A crazy crackhead putting nacho cheese from the machine into his cup-o-noodles. That shit made me LOL for reals yo.

And because I am posting this in the future, but writing it in the past … we will just have to wait and see what happens!

You spoke and I listened. Some of you tried to be all, “Oh no, it’s fine.” “I can handle it” … “It’ll just take some getting used to.” Well, no. That doesn’t work for me.

Things that seem neat and pretty and whatever aren’t always what’s best. It’s like abstinence education. Neat idea, but we know how that’s going, right, BABY BUMP BRISTOL? So I wanted a pretty static header and then you people were all, “Uumm… yeah ….. it’s ok.”

But this bitch wasn’t born yesterday; I knew what you really wanted to say. Were you trying not to hurt my feelings? Please! It’s like you don’t even know me. My feelings are made of cryptonite. I am also not selfish enough to be all, “Oh, well it’s my site and I like the static header and you guys can suck it.” No way man, that’s not how I roll.

So I called on the design goddesses and was alll, “Ladies, it’s me again, your totally schizophrenic client who can’t make up her mind. After you fix that header, can you find a way for the smell of bacon to waft out of the computer speakers when people click on omgdgms.com? Kthxbai!”

OH.MY.GAWD can you imagine? I could die! Could you die???

Things are still a tad under construction over here so thanks for bearing with all the jack hammering and dump trucks and the orange cones.

You know what else is under construction? My life! Ever since my hyman was given a good working, I have been swamped at work and swimming in school work and haven’t had a second to read YOUR blogs. With the projected weekend rain, please expect an obscene amount of page views and comments soon. I’ll get back on track, fear not.

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Speaking of bacon, this lady is STILL living a meatless life! Well, I take that back …. I totally had bacon last weekend and I enjoyed every second of it. I do miss meat, but I continue to do this out of sheer and total fear that upon meat consumption, my insides will slither onto my outsides and that is not something I am interested in. What’s a girl who’s craving a cheeseburger to do? WWSPD? (5 points to whoever guesses that acronym correctly. Your prize? A rose on your nose).

As September is among us, you would think I would be bathing myself in bacon cheeseburgers, lapping up carne asada tortas (pictured right) or wearing bacon juice as perfume. I would be a liar if I said none of those things have crossed my mind in the past 3 days. Although my Meatless Month was a success, I am terrified of walking back into my carnivorous ways. I am absolutely convinced that if I indulge in said aforementioned desires, that I will shit out my large intestine. I am serious folks and this is a realistic concern. Right? You can’t just be jarring your system so after a month of hummus and nuts and PB&J and sprouts and whatnot. So what’s a girl to do?

I have a friend coming for the weekend who’s really only a meatatarian and *ahem*, he’s not the kind of company I can expose to a possible incident of explosive you-know-what. If all goes well, he will be sticking his nut in my bolt, ifyouknowwhatImean and I can’t be having anything stand in the way of that. *ahem*

So for now, I am going to indulge in a little something I like to call Frozen Taquitos. I don’t “call” them that, that’s what their actually called, people! And although it seems so juvenile to throw some of those in my toaster oven like I’m a hungover frat boy, taquitos really are one of my favorite things. And I have nothing else to cook in this damn place. So don’t judge. I’m walking down this meat path slowly.

I am happy with my Meatless Month (not to mention this lady lost 7 lbs. Wooohoo!). I may continue to live this way, I dunno, we’ll just have to wait and see. As for this weekend, I will only be consuming man meat.

So I’m officially 13 days into the meat fast (wait, 12 days cause I had that whole “lamb incident”) … and I am happy to report that all is well. Although I got the official go ahead by the Meat Watch: 2008 team (that’s you guys) that drunken behavior is exempt from punishment, my completely inebriated weekend in New York went off without a meat slip-up. I didn’t end up going to Coney Island (although I vowed to stay away from those dirty dogs anyway) and my company were all vegetarians so all was safe.

I have an obsession with taking pictures of food so I present to you my Sunday morning breakfast. Juevos Rancheros made directly by God and sent down from Heaven:

For those of you not so versed in comida mexicana, well … welcome to America firstly. Secondly, it’s only the best food ever invented. So on the top you see black beans, moving around the dish in a clockwise fashion you’ve got rice and that chunky white goodness is where the magic is. That’s sour cream on top of tomatoes on top of lettuce on top of tortillas with spicy green salsa on top of 3 eggs over medium. You Massholes have never experienced such sex in the mouth as Juevos Rancheros, I promise.

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Now that that’s over with, let’s get to the Operation: Meatless Month update. Although I have been doing ok with my veggie intake and trying to get kidney beans, cheese and hard-boiled eggs into my salads, I still craved more protein. I mean, I’m not lifting weights here and clearly I am not a growing boy but I certainly don’t want to have a Meatless Month turn into 400 lbs. of carbs later, which are useless calories and kinda defeat that whole “eating conscientious” thing. I wanted more black beans Sunday night for dinner (can you imagine?) but realized my SFAH didn’t come equipped with a can opener -silly me. So I went to the market last night to buy one and to stock up on some protein items that hopefully won’t send my cholesterol through the roof.

So remember that post last week about the pickle-flavored nuts and how stuff that’s flavored like other stuff is gross? Yeah well, I lost all sensibility in the store tonight. That whole “don’t knock it til you try it” shit won me over and I bought cancer meat. I bought a “meat product” that is fake shit and protein er something, and an assload of sodium all masked to appear like carcass. It’s the zorro of food products if you will. But here I am trying to be open minded and all that crap. Sue me.

So I went home and make some fake meat carcass that I am convinced will give me cancer. I mean, I can at least die knowing I tried the meat before it gave me cancer. (Don’t get all upset guys, I of all people don’t joke about cancer srsly, c’mon). But this shit is so manufactured, that it CAN’T be right for you, right? So I go home with zorro cancer meat, make some black beans and some Peruvian rice called Chimicurri rice (HEAVEN.ON.EARTH!) When living alone, sometimes these insta’meals are where it’s at and the Trader Hoes products always have less sodium.

Here are some shots:

Next are some action shots of the zorro cancer meat (it doesn’t look right, right? )

Mmmmm rice

And black beans with sour cream and a dash of Chalula. Heeaaven!

The verdict on the zorro cancer meat: FAIL!

HAVE YOU SEEN THAT PICTURE??

I hate being wasteful but I couldn’t stomach more than 3 bites of the weird texture chewy business. So I’ll keep eating beans and cheese and edamame and milk and whathaveyou for protein.

Zorro cancer meat is not right at all.

I have kind of a foul confession to make. I love older men. Especially ones with salt and pepper hair. That in and of itself is not foul, especially cause older men looooove me too. But … there’s this guy I work with. He does some sort of IT/communication junk for one of the hospitals I work in. He works for some company the hospital group consults with or something, I dunno. These are mundane details. So he’s a nice looking man. I only met him a couple weeks ago when I needed a phone in my office (oh the simple pleasures). So a female co-worker who introduced me to him said, “Ya know … he’s single.” And I says, “Yeah? I like older men but … I think he’s old enough to be my father.”

So a couple weeks go by and I haven’t seen him and whatever, outta sight, outta mind. So I see him today and he has a huge smile on his face as he shouts down the hall, “HEY CALIFORNIA!” and I says, “HEY QUEENS!” I’ve always been a sucker for an accent and this man has a fabulous New York accent. And a salt and pepper goatee. God I love a goatee.

So I tell him I’m going to New York this weekend and more specifically, Coney Island tomorrow night. (I am prepared for it to be totally trashy, don’t worry). So he says, “You HAVE to have a Nathan’s dog!!” as I am standing in my office eating hummus with carrots and a handful of raspberries like a good girl. He continues, “Oh don’t give me that crap ….” as he can see a look of dismay on my face. I explain to him the Meatless Month and he ain’t havin’ any of it. So he goes on and on about the Nathan’s Dog. “C’mon, I hope you aren’t doing this to lose weight. You’re too young to worry about this shit. And look at you, you have a great shape!” (Old man translation = “you have a hot body”.)

So here I am sitting with a man in my office, whom I later find out IS ALMOST 59! Yes, he could be my father. But he’s so nice. And has nice brown skin. And a salt ‘n pepa goatee. Oh! And he’s Greek (like my beloved, MP). I am a sucker for those Greeks. But you know what this is really about? … how absolutely starved I am for male attention. I mean, I’m not getting on bars tops and shakin’ my money maker for attention. But an older man who is tempting me with meat is very hard to turn down.

(New Word Press editor note:  these posts don’t have dates on them.  WTF?)