I’m a sucker for Christmas traditions. Some people string popcorn and hang it on their tree. Some people sing Christmas carols. Some people attend midnight mass. I have fond memories of these lovely Tonic Family traditions:
- Cussing up a storm as we try to figure out which bulb is causing the whole strand to blackout
- Having tree sap stuck to my skin and hair for days after helping get the tree in the base
- Waking up at ungodly hours because a tiny person in the house wants to get up before the sun does to open presents
- My parents arguing because my dad forgot to charge the camcorder battery for the 900th year in a row
- Feeling bloated and praying for a swift death after consuming too many sweets
Christmas 2009. This is me right before I “gave birth” to the cheesecake, rum balls and fudge I ate earlier in the day.
NaNoWriNO Day 24
Topic: Colon Hydrotherapy
I decided to take a much-needed vacation from a former (writing) stomping ground, and to my surprise, my absence did not go unnoticed. When I got back I had e-mails, notes in the Newsroom, and offline messages on Yahoo Messenger asking where I had been. Many theories were tossed around. Had I finally been institutionalized? Did I run off with the men of Thunder Down Under? Had I suffered a major brain freeze from a Slurpee-gone-wrong? Another writer threw out the possibility that a poo expert on the site (yes, we had one) had kidnapped me, and performed massive amounts of crap extraction on my colon.
Luckily, I was safe from harm, but an idea was sparked. Not having any shame, or ladylike tendencies for that matter, I resolved to leave my fecal matter in the hands of a perfect stranger. I began to research the process of Colon Hydrotherapy, its benefits, and reputable places where it could be performed. I decided on a place near my work, and made an appointment with a woman named Irina for the next week.
I tossed and turned at night over the next few days. Visions of Sugar Turds danced in my head. I could not believe I was willing to part with something that was such a fundamental part of me. I began to wonder who this woman was, and why I was going to allow this professional stool stealer to take what was rightfully mine away from me. I blamed her flashy website, something that had gotten me in to trouble many times before. This is exactly how I became a lifelong member of the Shannon Doherty fan club.
The morning of the appointment I was a nervous wreck. I could hear faint cries coming from my colon, begging me to reconsider my hasty decision. I drank away my sorrows at the local Starbucks, and decided to be strong. I had made my decision, and I did not care what my poop thought about it! Continue reading
A few days ago I posted about my opportunity to fulfill a lifelong dream of torturing the masses via radio, and it finally happened! I must admit I was a little nervous, but the host assured me it would all work out. He advised me to drink hot tea, and send him topless photos to calm my nerves.
My pumpkin brings all the boys to the yard
Quite a few people showed up in the chat room, and I even had two callers. Granted, one of them was my parole officer asking me why I haven’t checked in with him in months, but still! The show was great fun, and I’d totally do it again if asked.
Some of you mentioned wanting a link to the broadcast since you weren’t able to make it. You can listen to the full show here.
For those who want to explore the links which were mentioned in the show:
Expats Post (Excuse us while we’re under construction!)
“Lasagna With A Side of Advice” post
Bill Friday’s website
Radio show facebook fan page
If any of you are interested in becoming a member on Expats Post, or want to know more about the radio show, you can e-mail me at SipsofJenandTonic@gmail.com.
Oh, please. You didn’t think I was talking about an actual baby did you? There’s a better chance of me pushing a Stretch Hummer Limo out of my Virginia Woolf than there is of me birthing a belly alien. I’m talking about my blog! Yesterday Sips of Jen and Tonic turned the big 0-1.
I honestly can’t believe it has been a year since I left a former site I wrote for and blazed my own trail. When I started this blog, I wanted it to be a platform for becoming rich and famous. I figured in no time I’d be raking in dough so quickly the FBI would think I was operating a drug ring in my spare time. I’ve got star quality; unfortunately, it’s not apparent to anyone else but me and my mom.
My parents consider me successful because I didn’t end up living in their basement
Some of you may not know this, but I’m kind of a Renaissance woman. I write, I hike, I craft, I wiggle my ears, I stalk David Hasselhoff, I make suggestive hand gestures to strangers. To be honest, I really do it all. However, the one thing I’ve always wanted to do but haven’t is be on the radio.
I’m not sure why. I’ve got the face for it, and I can talk endlessly about crappy music in yoga pants and a shirt with a questionable stain on it. I think it may have something to do with my foul mouth. Or my grating voice. Or my inability to speak into a mic without making those horrible popping sounds. Or how I love to say, “Check 1, check, check, check 1, check 2″ over and over and over again.
A promo shot I sent to local radio stations. No callbacks yet.
I have been on a blogging hiatus as some of you (okay, all of you) noticed. I’ve been busy with all sorts of life things, and had to take a step away to take care of business. I still owe you a post on everything that has been going on with me, but I had to come back today because it’s a special occasion. No, I’m not announcing that I’m pregnant with David Hasselhoff’s baby, or that scientists have decided to study a genetic mutation I have which causes my extreme awesomeness. Today is the birthday of my matey from another lady, Sara from Laments and Lullabies!
Some of you may not know this, but Sara and I go way back. Not like we-shared-a-womb-and-she-hogged-all-of-the-good-fluid kind of way back, but the kind that has allowed us to share many fun experiences together. How does one honor a friend like this on her birthday? I was going to write a long post about how beautiful and talented and funny and cool she is, but isn’t that common knowledge? Instead, I’ve decided to invite all of you to take a look back at some of my favorite moments with her.
Halloween 2009. She didn’t have a sidecar so she made me ride on the roof of her Smart car.
Photo courtesy of FaceInHole
Credit: Meme Center
I was at the grocery store the other day when I watched a ’97 Camero with tinted windows hastily pull into a handicapped parking space. As I waited for the driver to get out, I immediately formed an image of what I thought he or she might look like. I came up with: male, 25-35, bad fake tan, a sweatband on his forearm, aviator sunglasses, and a spandex Under Armour shirt which prominently displayed his nipples. I got 5 out of the 6 right; I should have known people wouldn’t be wearing sunglasses this time of year. Rookie mistake!
This got me thinking as to whether or not you can accurately predict a man’s characteristics and/or lifestyle based solely on his car. Sure, there are vehicles which are obvious predictors of things such as wealth or the need for speed, but can you tell more about someone from his ride than just how much money he’s got in the bank? I called my high-ranking friends at the CDC, FBI, CIA, TSA and NKOTB to see if they would assist in gathering data, but I got a lot of dial tones. On the upside, I’m pretty sure I’m on some “Watch Lists” now!
Not one to be deterred, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I gathered my materials and performed highly scientific research in one of the most prestigious labs in the world: a Safeway parking lot. My findings (after 30 minutes and a bag of beef jerky) are as follows: Continue reading