After a temporary hiatus, our heroine is back and with a fully stocked arsenal of bizarre life experiences just waiting to be recorded for your reading pleasure!
Did you miss me? :0)
Well... here we are again!
Its been a loooong time since I last wrote and believe me, it definitely was not because my life had suddenly become tediously mundane or even quasi-normal for that matter. No need to worry, faithful readers, my life is still an endless string of crazy coincidences and unheard of situations so there is no doubt in my mind that I still have the capactity to entertain the masses by merely chronicling the pitifully funny details of my daily existence...enjoy!
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Sheepskin is Highly Flammable
One of favorite things to do on Sundays is curl up on my huge red couch with my green silk shorts pajamas and my Ugg boots to watch t.v. The boots, for those of you that are not familiar with Uggs, are made of sheepskin and are incredibly comfortable - they are really soft and fully lined to keep your feet at the perfect temperature in all types of weather.
As I lounged dreamily on the couch in my preferred lounging attire, I could feel the heat of the sun as it shone through my balcony doors. Surprisingly enough it made me feel quite warm despite the chilly weather outside and the fact that I was only wearing flimsy shorts.
As I lazily considered how strong the sun was shining on such a chilly October day I was awoken out of my daze by an odd smell. Why did it suddenly smell like smoke? "Oh God, did I leave eggs hard-boiling for over an hour again and char another saucepan?"- I thought to myself.
Just as I was about to race to the kitchen, I realized that all around me a cloud of thin white smoke had developed. My eyes darted frantically all over the room in a frutiless attempt to discover the source of the fire but everything looked intact... and then,
I looked down.
The smoke appeared to be coming... from my left Ugg!!! A tiny brown spot (almost like a cigarette burn) was forming on my previously impeccable white boot and gradually burning its way through the sheepskin... the thin cloud of smoke rising up from it was now heading towards the ceiling. Inexplicable, I could not fathom what the hell was going on around me:
Were my boots spontaneously combusting?
Was I?
So many horrific images raced through my head as I tried to understand what was happening, and then my eyes rested on the vanity mirror I had left on the living room floor earlier after a brief eyebrow tweezing session. The mirror was positioned at a 45 degree angle from my boot and a ray of sun from the balcony was shining directly into it, another beam of refracted light was at the same time busy burning its way through my boot.
I jumped up and patted down my burning Ugg to stop the fire, still reeling from my discovery. How could this really be happening? I thought that only highly skilled cub scouts and McGyver were able to start fires with mirrors, how could this happen to me and my ridiculously overpriced boots????
Well, my friends, some mysteries are just better left unexplained and as I have (unfortunately? fortunately?) grown accustomed to having things happen to me that just dont seem happen to anyone else (unless you count characters on mexican soap operas, of course ) I have learned just not to ask.
Oh, and to only keep my mirrors in windowless rooms from now on, just in case....
As I lounged dreamily on the couch in my preferred lounging attire, I could feel the heat of the sun as it shone through my balcony doors. Surprisingly enough it made me feel quite warm despite the chilly weather outside and the fact that I was only wearing flimsy shorts.
As I lazily considered how strong the sun was shining on such a chilly October day I was awoken out of my daze by an odd smell. Why did it suddenly smell like smoke? "Oh God, did I leave eggs hard-boiling for over an hour again and char another saucepan?"- I thought to myself.
Just as I was about to race to the kitchen, I realized that all around me a cloud of thin white smoke had developed. My eyes darted frantically all over the room in a frutiless attempt to discover the source of the fire but everything looked intact... and then,
I looked down.
The smoke appeared to be coming... from my left Ugg!!! A tiny brown spot (almost like a cigarette burn) was forming on my previously impeccable white boot and gradually burning its way through the sheepskin... the thin cloud of smoke rising up from it was now heading towards the ceiling. Inexplicable, I could not fathom what the hell was going on around me:
Were my boots spontaneously combusting?
Was I?
So many horrific images raced through my head as I tried to understand what was happening, and then my eyes rested on the vanity mirror I had left on the living room floor earlier after a brief eyebrow tweezing session. The mirror was positioned at a 45 degree angle from my boot and a ray of sun from the balcony was shining directly into it, another beam of refracted light was at the same time busy burning its way through my boot.
I jumped up and patted down my burning Ugg to stop the fire, still reeling from my discovery. How could this really be happening? I thought that only highly skilled cub scouts and McGyver were able to start fires with mirrors, how could this happen to me and my ridiculously overpriced boots????
Well, my friends, some mysteries are just better left unexplained and as I have (unfortunately? fortunately?) grown accustomed to having things happen to me that just dont seem happen to anyone else (unless you count characters on mexican soap operas, of course ) I have learned just not to ask.
Oh, and to only keep my mirrors in windowless rooms from now on, just in case....
Mariachis Asesinos
This year, for my birthday I decided I was going to fully embrace passing the 30yr mark and celebrate with my head held high my official crossing into the unknown pastures of 31.... I organized a party at home with friends, music, booze, cake and Melissa - all the essential ingredients for a successfull bash. It was sooooo much fun, I was really happy that everyone showed up to celebrate with us. My only complaint was that my one birthday wish didnt come true.... live mariachis!
I don't know why I became obsessed with the idea of hiring a group of mariachis to serenade me at my party(I know, Melissa called it the epitome of self-centeredness, but I dont care!). I guess ever since I was little I have always loved the idea of serenades as they appear in those old mexican movies...an unsuspecting girl on her balcony surprised by a whole band of mariachis singing to her below just seemed so romantic. I began to envision how my birthday serenade would be: 4 chubby mariachis in sparkly tight suits and guitars singing Mexican love songs while walking up my street towards my balcony, as I basked in the glow of the undivided birthday attention. But then my overactive imagination would kick in and I would start to imagine the little hoodlum kids that sometimes hang out in my neighborhood, and my serenade dream would go horribly awry. .. I imagined the kids beating the crap out of the poor mariachis with their instruments and making fun of their sparkly pants. The kids would leave laughing, as my little chubby troubadors lay bleeding in the street under my balcony- their broken guitar remains lying in a pool of blood.... horrible, I know. Unfortunately, (or possibly fortunately for the mariachis) the dream was not meant to be... they turned out to be way too expensive so I had to give up all hopes of a birthday serenade. But dont worry, next year I will not be deterred! And forget Mexico, I may go to LA to find me some bad-ass mexican mariachis for my 32nd, and I will make sure they are packing in case any little madrileño punks try to mess with them!
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