Growing Pains

One of Mama's favorite stories to tell about me is from when she ran a daycare at home. There were always tons of other kids around. I was something of a ringleader and trouble maker, since I knew where all of the especially exciting areas of the yard were, like the Aqueduct of Doom. One day, a social worker was over doing some official observation type activity and Mama was sitting on the porch with her and talking while we played on the swing-set in the yard below. Our swing-set was one of those big wooden contraptions that had a bench swing and monkey bars and a fort and a slide. I had personally climbed over every inch of it.

That day I must have been bored with the normal attempt to swing over the bar or swing the bench hard enough to knock the whole thing over (which we never did accomplish). As Mama tells it, "I saw you bent over and dragging something, very intent on what you were doing and ignoring the other kids. I knew whatever it was would be bad, so I got up to stop you. The social worker put her hand on my arm and said,'Let's see what she's doing,' so I watched you for a minute. You started climbing the ladder for the slide, trying to drag whatever you had up behind you. I couldn't see what it was and I was getting nervous, so I headed over, the social worker protesting the whole time that this was fascinating and not to stop you. Good thing I didn't listen to her, because what you had was a big wheeler that you were hell bent on riding down the slide. I think you were four."

I've always been a fearless person when it comes to adventures. No, wait, that's not exactly right. Not fearless, not really. I still feel the fear, that heady rush of adrenaline that dilates your pupils and makes the blood pound in your ears and throat and makes your breath quicken. That flight-or-fight response is there. I just always choose fight.

The first clear memory I have of that intoxicating feeling is from when I was around 12 or 13 and camping in King's Canyon with Mama and Brian, my brother. There was a part of the nearby river nicknamed Party Rock and we went to investigate. Party Rock turned out to be a huge boulder that dropped straight down into a deep pool in the river. A bit of a crowd was hanging out and partying around the pool (hence the name) and taking turns daring each other to jump off the rock into the nearly freezing river below. After taking this all in, I remember that my brother and I just looked at each other, the challenge readable in our eyes, and raced for the top of the rock. At the top, we both paused to take in what we now faced: a twenty foot drop into icy cold water of unknown depth, but crystal clear enough to see the rocks that made up the riverbed. We shared another look, this time pure joy and anticipation on our faces, and leaped off the rock into the waiting river. The shock of the cold water burned my skin and then instantly froze it behind the burn. The breath was completely knocked out of me by the shock and my eyes flew open to take in the most amazing sight of my life. I could see clearly under the water. For someone who can barely see four inches past her own nose without glasses, the clear lines and bold colors of each rock and tiny pebble several feet away from me was beyond amazing. I didn't want to come back up to the surface, but the need for air drove me up and then the cold drove me out of the water. As the sun warmed my skin and feeling returned, I began to shiver. My brother looked at me questioningly; he had gotten out of the water as fast as possible. I simply said, "I could see," and began to climb up to the top of the rock again.

He followed me, grinning.

A recent comment thread on Imani's wall served to remind me that I did not have the most normal of childhoods, even though it seemed so while I lived it. I called Brian to share and remember and laugh over it with him. Our neighbors growing up were four boys who all owned BB and pellet guns. They lived in two story house with a pool and a trampoline. They also constructed a water slide made out of industrial sized PVC pipe. After I recounted to Brian how people were shocked that I lived through jumping off of a two-story roof onto a trampoline or into a pool or firing pellet guns or riding razor scooters down the pool slide, or any and all combinations thereof, he laughed and said, "Hell, that sounds like a weekend." The two of us have always had shared love of adventure and thrill-seeking. We were forever looking for the next challenge, the next rush of adrenaline.

One day when I was in college in Santa Barbara, I was walking on the pier with one of my roommates. I made an offhand comment that I was a little sad that it was winter and so cold, because I had a very strong urge to jump off the pier. My roommate laughed nervously and changed the subject. A few minutes later, my phone rang. It was Brian, which was highly unusual at the time. I answered, mentally preparing for bad news. I was confused for a moment by the laughing "Guess what I just did!" that greeted me.

"Well you obviously didn't break your leg again because you're laughing. Unless they already gave you drugs for it?"

"Hah! No, I didn't break anything this time."

"Well then what?"

"I just jumped off the Huntington Beach pier!"

I collapsed laughing, still standing on my own pier a few hundred miles north.

I have yet to jump off of anything of that great a height, or out of a plane, but I've always been a bit obsessed with heights. It's almost like I have the opposite of a fear of heights. Instead of cringing away from the edge and moving toward safety, my body seems to move closer to the edge of its own accord. I've heard "Sarah, get back from there!" more times than I can count. It's as though I just can't resist that breathless feeling of vertigo, that sense of nearness to danger. It draws me out, every time. I've even had it well up from within while standing at the top of a flight of stairs. I've leaned against the banister, feeling it creak in my hands and listened to the blood rush in my head as I pictured falling to the floor below.

Given that, it's no wonder that one of the places I actively sought out in Ireland was the Cliffs of Moher. Everywhere else I went in Ireland was mostly by wandering and going to places someone told me about that sounded fun. The two places I made a point to visit both involved heights (the other was the Blarney Stone). The Cliffs of Moher is one of the most photographed places in the world, and no wonder. Rising straight up out of the tumultuous Atlantic, the 700 foot (200m) high cliffs make the Cliffs of Insanity look tame. Often shrouded in mist, I was incredibly lucky to see them on a clear, bright day. The feeling I had of standing on the edge of the world is indescribable. I stood behind the low rock wall, meant to keep cows and drunks from bumbling off the cliff, completely transfixed by the sight.

Then a crow cawed near me and brought me back into my body.

My face hurt from smiling, but I couldn't stop. My heart pounding and my hands shaking,

I stepped over the wall. I felt as though I had crossed more than a physical boundary and time seemed to stop for a moment. Even the crying of the gulls and the pounding of the surf hundreds of feet below paused for just a second. Then sound returned and with it that familiar compulsion.

Closer. Closer. Closer.

I stepped forward, once, twice and leaned forward to look directly down the cliff face. My breath stopped and my heart pounded. It was enough to make even me move back. But that call was not satisfied.

Closer.

I sat down on the ground to keep myself from stepping forward again. Then I knew what to do. I laid down on my stomach and inched toward the edge, my body shaking. I kept my eyes shut until my shoulders were at the edge of the cliff.

Then I opened my eyes.

New Year

It's one of my few family traditions that at the new year we look back over the past year and pick out the three best and three worst things that we experienced. We go over the worst things first so that we can appreciate the best things all the more. 2010 was a roller coaster year for me; some great things and some really horrible things happened.

The three worst things for me in 2010 were:
3. I was diagnosed with Reynaud's Syndrome. This means that even something as simple as drinking a soda or eating cold salami slices or even walking outside when it's chilly brings me pain and discomfort. And I have to wear socks all the time, which I hate. For a while when it was really cold here, I was even sleeping with gloves on because I have a hard time sleeping when the room is warm but my hands freak out if the room is cold. That really wasn't as awkward as I thought it would be though. And really, all things considered, if I had to choose a bizarre medical affliction, I could do a LOT worse.

2. I broke up with Ricardo. This was such a long, drawn out breakup that it really wore me down and left me emotionally exhausted for much of the year. Things all started in February and dragged on and on into October. I've gone over things elsewhere, so I'll just say that this had a major negative impact on most of my year.

1. I had to put Singe to sleep. Singe was my cat from the day she was born. I was there for it. She was the only black cat in a litter of tabbies. It was love at first sight. She slept with me almost every night once she was old enough to leave Mama Kitty, except one and a half years of college. Last year she developed an autoimmune skin disease, where an aggressive virus was causing her immune system to attack skin cells. She fought hard but the steroid regimen was too much for her. After being together for twelve years, I miss her so much that I can't even let myself think about it for more than two minutes without dissolving into a weeping mess. Like now.

The three best things for me in 2010 were:
3. I bought a new car. My first completely, 100% new car. Even having the ability to buy a new car is amazing for me. This purchase was also a major step in finishing my breakup, so it has double the symbolic representation for me. I absolutely love the feeling of freedom I get every time I pause and reflect that I have a car that is mine alone and I can go anywhere and do anything I want.

2. I spent around three months at the beginning of 2010 in Santa Barbara. Granted, it was for a crazy work project and I was majorly stressed out most of the time I was there. I still got to spend time with good friends and have fun and enjoy California for an extended period of time, which is something I never even thought I would be able to do for many years, if at all. It was bittersweet in the sense that I knew I would never be able to do that again, but that just made me appreciate the time I got to spend back home even more.

1. My trip to Texas to meet some amazing Pajibans. It started out as a bit of a joke, this trip. Then I checked out plane tickets on a whim and found an amazing deal and next thing I knew, I was face to face with some of the most awesome people I've ever met. Pajiban relationships are a strange thing to explain to anyone outside of our crazy little group. But I, for one, will take the trade off of seeming like more of a crazy person than I already am in exchange for this amazing group of friends I have spread out across the country; the world even. I know, without a doubt, that pretty much anywhere I could ever visit has at least one person that I would love to meet and hang out with. Being able to meet a whole bunch of them at the same time and see how similar or different they are in person versus online and have crazy adventures doing the simplest of things and just generally being nerds all over the place wasn't just one of the best things of 2010. I'm sure it's one of the best things of my life.

Back In The Game

I just got back from my first speed dating experience. It was actually a lot more fun that I thought it would be. Of course, there was the token rude guy, and the token fucking awkward guy, and they guy that was way too old to be there, but we'll get to those.

I agreed to go mainly to support my friend and because what the hell else am I gonna do on a Thursday night? Plus, it's always fun to get dressed up, and it's really hard to meet anyone between 21 and 30 in this city unless you're in a bar screaming at them over the music. So at the very least, I knew I would meet interesting people. Whether I would be glad I met them...

Some of them, definitely glad I met. Like the really hot guy who was the only one to offer to buy me a drink when he saw my empty glass. Sadly, I couldn't take him up on that since I was driving. Also glad I met the adorable Russian guy (hello, amazing accent!) who was hilarious and joked about being in the mob in Kansas. Call me!

But enough about the good, let's get to what you're really here for. The shit talking.

First of all, who answers their phone in the middle of a date? Especially in speed dating, where you have six minutes per person! So, yeah, phone guy can kiss my ass.

Then there was the guy who wrote "technical" books, but refused to elaborate because clearly I would never read them. Pretentious douche. Who writes a book about the flavors of rice anyway? And he had a stupid hat.

Let's see...oh there was the super sweet guy who had just gotten out of college, and was kind of awkward about whatever job he had (I never did get it out of him). Any job is a good job right now, kid.

But he wasn't nearly as awkward as The Awkward Guy. Oh my god, this guy was ridiculous. He kind of looked like the guy from Legally Blonde, you know the one that Elle goes up to and slaps across the face and pretends to be upset that he never called her after the best pleasure she had ever know? That guy. It's a very good thing that I can babble my head off at the drop of a hat, because that was a challenge, even for me. He seemed to have an inability to say anything beyond "That's interesting" or "I feel the same way." And he was drinking a glass of merlot, but he only took a drink when I did (which was frequently in that little interaction). Mirroring doesn't work when it freaks the fuck out of the person you are mirroring. So. Awkward. It was the longest six minutes of the night.

He was even more awkward than the guy who just so happened to have a twelve year old.

Come On To My House, My House, My House

Everyone who has been pestering me for pictures of my apartment (duplex, house, whatever), prepare to get excited!

Here we have the living room, facing the front door and The Orange Fireplace (I wasn't kidding):


We pan over to the right and there are my two tiny windows, my lovely bookcase, and The TV (it really deserves caps, don't you think?). Of course, a Celtics game is on:



Here's half of The TV and my very artistic photos of trees. And a little bit of the kitchen. And the terminally cluttered dining table that we never use:



Here is the kitchen, in all its glory! Actually, this is mainly to show off my fantastic dragonfly decals (link):


Now, backing up a bit into the living room, here is another dragonfly, another artistic photo of a tree, and another bookshelf! At least I'm consistent. You can also see the little square "hallway":



Next, we turn ninety degrees to the right, where the couch is. That door is still the front door, for those of you interested in orientation. Check out my awesome hand colored map of Southern California:


Here is the little square "hallway", along with dragonfly number three. I think I'm going to name them. You can see into the bathroom too:


Now we take a giant step backwards, and presto! We're in the bedroom. Some more artistic photos of trees and my dresser. And a mess. See? Consistent:



Turn to the right and there's the bed and my giant sun, hanging out, being a giant sun:



Turn a little bit more to the right and there is my other tiny window (bedroom version) and the fourth and final dragonfly. And my giant closet thing that I painted green. Because houses built in the 40s don't have much closet space:



This completes the tour of Sarah's Awesome Apartment.

Goosebumps

I am so proud of my country right now. I can't stop smiling!

Sunshine (Come On Ladies)

Last weekend most of the girls I've lived with came to Santa Barbara for our semi-annual Roommate Reunion. It was a blast. After people arrived, we headed down to our favorite Italian place for lunch and stuffed ourselves on garlic rolls. Mmmm, garlic...Then we headed back to Pamala's at a very leisurely pace, stopping at the store for provisions. The evening was spent drinking Mai Tais and scheduling cooking around the power outages, thanks to the raging forest fire about fifteen miles away. We managed to grill it up though, and had a feast. We tried to play a board game (how exciting are we?), we even set it up, but no one could focus long enough to understand the rules. We ate and spent many hours talking. More on that later.
Saturday we breakfasted and then went wine tasting for a few hours. We saw an amazing white trash couple while we were drinking too. They both had long super-frizzy hair, the guy even had bangs! He wore the requisite faded, torn-up and stained jeans, while she wore short short jean shorts that had been rolled up so as to be even shorter than they were intended to be. But the best part was her "shirt". She was actually wearing a bandanna tied around her chest! I had never seen that in real life before, and I grew up in a town where people lived in tents in trailer parks! They were made for each other, I tell you. After wine tasting we had a quick lunch and went and lounged at the beach. Two of the ladies took the Longest Walk on the Beach EVER, and when they finally came back to the rest of us, who were huddled together and shivering, we went back home to change and head out to dinner.
Dinner was at a new restaurant for us, which has subsequently been removed from the list of acceptable places to eat. Our waitress may have been legitimately retarded, and later that night three or four of us didn't feel well at all. After dinner, we ended up at Tonic, per usual. Pamala's boyfriend (she actually called him that yesterday!) Chris and his pals showed up, and Ricardo joined us later. When we first arrived, we quickly noticed one lady in particular, as she was rather difficult to miss. She was a somewhat larger person, wearing an unfortunate white tube top dress that came to just past right there. She was even more unfortunately attempting to pole dance and give a lap dance to a couch. We shook our heads at the rampant lack of self awareness and went about our business. There was dancing and laughing and drinking and going outside because it was too hot. One of the times I went back inside was a shocker though. I wandered a bit until I saw one of my girls, who then ran over to me and said, "Oh my God, the crazy girl hit Emily in the head!" Apparently the erstwhile amateur pole dancer had taken offense at Emily for no discernible reason. Tube Top was shuffling through the crowd when she spotted Emily and suddenly changed her trajectory. Tube Top gained momentum and launched herself up and punched Emily in the side of the head, which is amazing in and of itself, since Tube Top was about five three and Emily is about five nine or ten. There was much restraining on both sides, Tube Top was kicked out, and Emily was taken outside to cool down. She was totally fine, if a bit confused and shaken up. The rest of the night was uneventful, and the next day we said our goodbyes until our next event.
I love those girls.

Strange Days Are Here Again

I have previously documented the strange goings-on that occur during my lunches, and today that theme was continued loudly and proudly. Today, as I was driving to get my lunch, there was a man standing on the corner with a giant sign. His sign was covered in mostly illegible, small writing.
However.
In the middle of his sign, in giant letters, it said, "YOU NEED THERAPY!"
But that is not even the best part. What could be better you ask? The fact that he was wearing this:
With this kicky hat:

This town continues to bring the crazy awesome.

Happy Happy Joy Joy

So we finally got our cable set up this weekend, and after Ricardo spent three hours centering the screen of the tv, which, to be fair, is 46 inches, and requires a lot of finagling, I can tell you that DVR is the greatest invention ever! I'm recording things left and right. I am in televisual heaven. Interesting program on National Geographic about what will happen after we all die, but, oh no, it's on at 11 pm? Bam, record that shit and watch it when I want. Rock of Love marathon on VH1? Got it! Awesome.

Now I have to go procure a storage unit today, so we can move all the stuff that we want, but not necessarily right now, out of the apartment, and then I will be truly happy. Our living room is a disaster still, boxes stacked all over the place, some of them half unpacked and random things all over the damn place. I can't even look at it anymore. I tried to start going through some boxes yesterday, but I got so overwhelmed that I had to go lie down. There's just no place to put anything. I ordered out kitchen/dining table on Friday, and it should get here sometime this week. I hope. It's so purty:

Right? I can't wait for it to get here. No more milk crates for me! Now I just need a big bookshelf and about 70% of the clutter will have a home. But, of course, now that I actually want to buy a bookshelf, the only ones on craigslist are crappy ones. What happened to all the awesome ones that I used to see when I was browsing? Work with me people!

Take Me Home

I have a place to live! I am so excited! Of course, this means that I have to move again, but that is just a detail at this point. My rent is going to be half of what I've been paying for the last year. That is so awesome. Ricardo's talking about how we need to buy a new bed, because apparently mine is not comfortable. This is coming from the guy who didn't even have a bed in his bedroom because the floor is good for his back or something. I wasn't listening to that crazy talk.
But so our place is tiny. Really small. He was thinking that we should get a king sized bed, and I was like, "And put it where, exactly? Were you planning to use the closet? Because I sure am." Not to mention that he wants to buy a bed first thing, and we don't even have other furniture essentials. Like a table. Or chairs. I'm not even sure my couch will fit in the living room. It's a very long couch. I need to break out the measuring tape.
Things are looking up indeed.

I Don't Do Christmas Music

My Christmas was very mellow this year. I went to Pamala's family house for actual Christmas Day, which I think was funny, since they're Jewish. We had a really fun time, and Pamala made me this awesome scrapbook of our friendship with inside jokes. It was very heartwarming, brought a tear to my eye even. I felt a little bad, because I was like, "Here, I got you a shirt...", but it was a Hannah Montana shirt with her name on it, and she put it on right away.

Then Ricardo and I went down to Lake Elsinore to see Mama and Dennis, who were in town to see his family. We both stayed in the one nice hotel in my hometown, one Holiday Inn. I was looking forward to taking Ricardo to see the town I grew up in, because it would hopefully expel some impressions he has about me that are entirely incorrect. He seems to think that I am this delicate upper middle class white girl who has never even seen a Mexican before. This could not be further from the truth, but no matter how many times I tried to tell him, he wasn't getting it.

After spending three days driving around my hometown, however, he has yet to make any of the types of comments that he used to.

My hometown is...sort of like a conglomeration of all things trashy. There are trailer parks. There are hookers. There are crackheads. There are crackhead hookers. I used to work at a community center downtown, and one day someone taped index cards to the doors that read, "Watch out for the skinny black crackhead, she will STEAL YOUR MONEY!" I knew exactly who the note was talking about too. I once was accosted at a gas station by a three hundred pound toothless Mexican yelling "Ai, mami, call me papi!" My neighbor was arrested because he had a meth lab in his garage. My other neighbor had fried his brain with so many drugs that he used to walk around with a five gallon bucket that had no bottom in it. When my friends came to stay with me for a few days, they ended up with a used condom tied to their car door.

That is the town I grew up in people. Classy, right?

Where was I?

Oh yes. Christmas. So we saw Mama and Dennis. We got them each an ipod shuffle, and we also got them each a bigger looking, but cheaper gift. Mama got dark chocolate MnMs, and Dennis got a big bag of Cheetos. Because I'm awesome. I got some cool stuff too. Like a new ipod nano, which I love. It's so small! I'm kinda scared that I will lose it, but I got this nifty case for it, which helps a lot. Ricardo also hand made me a beautiful card that had three pages of writing in it that was so sweet and loving that I seriously cried. Because I'm a girl. I also got some nice teas from Dennis, since he goes to Thailand (or is it Taiwan? I think it's Taiwan. Crap.) for his job all the time. And a pretty watch. And a little diamond from Mama that I'm going to make into a nose ring.

For New Year's, we went to the Roosevelt Hotel and rocked out. See how cute we were?

Ricardo was there too, I promise.

Come Together

There has been a whole lot of craziness going on in my life recently. I have started at least twenty posts in my head, but none of them have made it out of my head yet, obviously. I don't even know where to begin. I suppose I could start with a How My Holidays Were post. That seems so mundane, given the momentous changes since Thanksgiving, but I do need to start somewhere. As much as I want to dive in the middle, I know that I will backtrack continuously if I do that. So, now that I've sufficiently justified being a little boring, let's get started. This may take a few posts, but they will be coming regularly, I promise.

For this Thanksgiving, Mama and Dennis invited everyone to their house in Arizona. They specifically asked me to bring Ricardo so that they could meet him. I did think that it was a bit early in the relationship for the meeting of parents, but he and I were already pretty serious, so I asked him if he wanted to come to Arizona with me. He was immediately excited about it. It was adorable, really. He kept telling me things that he wanted to say to them. Now, it is not obvious when you first meet Ricardo, because he isn't fully fluent in English, but he seriously does not stop talking. I talk a lot, and I can't get a word in edgewise with him sometimes.
So he and I drove for twelve hours, from Santa Barbara to Strawberry, Arizona. Which is like smack in the middle of the state. It was a very arduous drive. We got to Mama's at about six or seven in the morning, depending on which time zone you choose, fell into bed and slept until about noon. After the cats greeted us that is. Smokey and Streak both were ecstatic that we had arrived to entertain them. At one point, Smokey jumped up on the foot of the bed. All I could see over Ricardo were her ears. She started slowly walking toward his head, and I could think of nothing else but the theme from Jaws. Right as the song in my head got to the climax, she jumped up on top of Ricardo's hip and yowled. I couldn't have contained myself even if I had wanted to; I busted up laughing. I couldn't stop for about half and hour. After a twelve hour, over-night drive through the desert, that shit was hilarious.
Once we were up and moving again, one thing was immediately apparent: it was cold. Like, colder than I have ever been. I grew up in California and am completely weather-spoiled, but I think it would have been considered cold even by normal-people standards. It hovered around forty during the day, dipping down to around ten at night. Like I said, freakin' cold.
One funny moment was when Mama finally noticed that I'd gotten my nose pierced. It took her a full hour to notice it, and when she finally did, it was great. She stopped mid-sentence and pointed at my nose with her mouth open, followed by an "Oh, my God!" Then she went on about how much it must have hurt an how she thinks I am crazy. Keep in mind, this is coming from the woman who got a tattoo at fifty three, a full year before I got my first one, which she paid for as a graduation present. I love my mom, but she often makes no sense. The best part was when Dennis came out a few minutes later, gave me a hug and then said, "So you got your nose pierced, huh?" I teased Mama about that for a long time.
The next day was Thanksgiving Day and people started showing up around 11:00 AM. We ended up with seventeen people in a double wide trailer. I was just glad that there was a huge deck out back, so there was some crowd control. It was a really good time, lots of food and love and laughing, particularly when Aunt Ann ran smack into the screen door and bounced off of it. Ah, good times.
As per usual, there was alcohol aplenty, and Mama took full advantage of that on Thanksgiving night. Mama is adorable when she's drunk, she gets very affectionate and laughs even more than normal. The next night was all about Dennis though. Normally Dennis is a very calm, easy going guy, but apparently after he's had a few, there is another, hilarious side of Dennis. I was sitting at the smaller table entertaining my cousin Julie's kids (incidentally, what do you call your cousin's kids?), when my other cousin, Alicia, came up and told me that I needed to go outside and check out what Dennis was up to. And man, am I glad she did. The man was on a roll, going on about how he was trying to keep the damn fire going, but this sunuvabitch over here (my Uncle Mark) kept messing up the wood, and when Uncle Mark protested that he was, in fact, nowhere near the fire, Dennis dubbed him The Goddamn Fire Master and informed Uncle Mark that he was being fucking derelict in his duties. Amid this interaction, Dennis would continually inquire if anyone had any Cheetos (there was a mix of snacks set out, but he only liked the Cheetos), and if they did, he would confiscate them as his Porch Usage Fee. If they were out of Cheetos, they could pay in Sun Chips, which Dennis gave to the dogs because "they like the fucking crunchiness in their mouths". But that was just the beginning. After Alicia mention that it was a good thing that her mom (Aunt Ann) had only bounced off the screen door, Dennis got to speechifying, saying "You're goddamn right it's a good thing, I've walked right through those damn doors before. If she'd a broke my fuckin' screen door, The Goddamn Fire Master over here would be getting a fucking invoice" and then he proceeded to dictate said invoice as:

You Goddamn Sunuvabitch,
For one fucking broken screen door, payments are due.
Ten Cheetos, times 5% for harassment.
In addition, provide one bag of fucking Sun Chips for the dogs, since the poor bastards can't come on the deck anymore.
Signed,
Dennis

He was pantomiming writing this out while he was doing it too. It was a masterful performance.
The rest of Thanksgiving was equally great, but in different ways. I got to see members of my family that I hadn't seen in years, some that I hadn't seen since they were toddlers. I also go to visit the Grand Canyon for the first time since I was like seven. It was sad to have to come back to Santa Barbara, which is nowhere near any of my family.

Next up, Christmas and New Year's!

Warm Fuzzies

I don't have a lot of family that I'm close to. In fact, I don't really have all that many people that I'm close to. But this past weekend was spent with members of my family that I never thought I would be able to spend time with all together. Especially not having things go as well as they did. Amazing, right? Your eyes do not deceive you. That is Mama, Dad, Dennis, and Brian all sitting together. All laughing together. I love this picture more than words can express.

I've Got To Admit, It's Getting Better

I got back home about two hours ago. I had quite an unusual weekend, as only one spent visiting The Ex can be. It wasn't as awkward as I had feared, but the odd thing was that I was much more comfortable with his parents that I was with him, in particular his mom. She talked as much as ever, but I found it much more endearing than irritating, like I used to. I wasn't even all that irritated by his dad either, which is highly unusual since he used to make my head hurt. In fact, the only person I was irritated by was Chris himself. He just seemed to be in a funk the entire time I was there, always whining about something or other. All he wants to do is move back to England. He hates the heat, he hates the traffic, he hates California, he hates the U.S. He is only waiting on his funding to go through, and then he's headed back to England. Which, ok, fine, he can be a little depressed when he is stuck in that hell hole we grew up in when his girlfriend and most of his friends are in England, but come on. At least make the best of the situation you're in. I mean, I drove my ass three hours down there to visit him for the first time in a long time, and he was bitchy and whiny the whole time? No thanks. At least it did serve one good purpose, which was to completely and utterly destroy and vague lingering romantic notions I might have had toward him. We can be the kind of friends that email each other randomly and chat online occasionally, but that is it. What I find most amusing in all of this is that the only reason we are even friends in the first place is because he was adamant about remaining friends. It took me a long time to come around to the point where I am even able to be his friend, and now that I'm there, he could apparently care less.

Oh, the Places You'll Go!

I'm so excited right now! Pamala and I are planning a trip abroad next year. I really want to take her to places in Ireland, even if she isn't all that keen on it. Of all the places I've ever been, Killarney was honestly the greatest. I think it had something to do with staying in the tiniest little hostel, which was run by a crazy Polishman who did Batman impressions. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that Killarney has the highest concentration of pubs in Europe. Seriously. Five streets, eighty six pubs. It's amazing. And then we have to go up to Doolin, which is the opposite. Lots of sprawling countryside cottages, and three pubs. But they have amazing live music every night and the guy who runs the hostel sounds like Bono, and even though I hate Bono with a raging passion, dude does have an awesome voice.
We also obviously have to spend a great deal of time in London, doing London-y things. Museums and bookstores and Towers, oh my! Maybe I'll even get to go to Dali-world like I wanted to but never got to. Oh, and the parks!
Also high on the list is heading back to Italy, since I only got to spend four days there. Two of those days were spent getting lost in Venice, which was awesome. I would love to do Rome and be all touristy. And maybe we could hit up Nicole's family, they have a house in Tuscany.
Which brings me to Greece, where, wouldn't you know it, Nicole's family also has a house. Hhhmmm...
If we can get Orly to come with us, she would be great in Spain. After all, she did live there for a while. Who better to show us the best places? And I bet she still knows people there and we could crash on couches for cheap.
And Paris. We have to go to Paris. I never made it before, even though I lived in fucking Brighton for three months and could have swam to France. Because cheese...wine...bread...I need to go to France.
I also really want to go to Prague. I don't really know why, other than that it looks so beautiful.
So we are going to start saving our dollars and planning and narrowing down our plan and harassing Orly even though she probably won't come with us. I cannot wait to go!

Upside Down

Apparently there is some sort of pheromone fog emanating from me. There have been some surreal things happening that I'm not used to dealing with at all. It started when I went down to Northridge for a training for my work. It took way less time than I had anticipated to drive down there, so I decided to take advantage of the spa, since it was open until 10 PM. I took the book I'm borrowing from Pam (The Book of Daniel, by E.L. Doctorow, I am not liking it very much) thinking to make a sizable dent in it. However, there was someone out in the spa already. I thought that seeing I had a book would deter any attempts at conversation, so I was still planning on getting some reading done, minus the small talk that everyone has to make when you are say, sitting in the same spa. The guy introduces himself and we chat, and he actually is very entertaining. And if you know me at all, you know that I love being entertained. And that I never shut the fuck up. So we talk a lot, about random what-are-you-like things, and then he goes for the closer, but the most ridiculous thing came out of his mouth. He looked over at me and said, "So, a guy like you and a girl like me..." I just sort of looked at him like "Excuse me?" and he realized what he had actually said. It was quite endearing actually. In fact, if he had managed to say what he was trying to say, it probably would have not gone over well. But the fact that he messed it up and got all embarrassed was cute. So long story short, we spent some more time together, and I told him that I would meet him the next evening after dinner with my friends who live down there.
Turns out that my friends are total cock blockers and we didn't even leave for dinner until 8:30, and I didn't get back to my hotel until nearly midnight. On top of that, my dumb ass cannot remember numbers to save my life, so I had no clue what room he was in. I did, however, remember that he told me where he works, so what did my crazy ass do? Yeah, I called his work and asked if I could leave my number for my friend that I was trying to get in touch with. I am insane. I never denied it. But good sign! He called me literally three minutes after I left my number, so I was able to explain that I hadn't stood him up on purpose, I'm just retarded. I might have freaked him right the hell out though. We'll see if he ever calls me again.
So that was one adventure. Here's where things began to take a weird turn. Later that night my phone rang and it said "No name?", which means that it was either people wanting money or Mama calling from Mexico. Since it was almost ten at night, I went with Mama and answered. I was wrong on both counts, it turned out to be Ricardo. I used to work with him in the Ucen kitchen, and pretty much the whole time I knew him I was trying to hook up with him. We went out a few times, but nothing really ever came of it. But here he was, calling me after I haven't seen or talked to him in months. And the reason he called? To ask me out to dinner and a movie! There's no real explanation for it...
Then when Orly, Leslie and Paul (the Big Spoon) came up, we had to go downtown to a club. We ended up in Sandbar for some reason, and Orly got us in for free by flashing (but not really) the bouncer. I love that girl. We get into the club and get some drinks and head out to dance. It's been a while since I've been out and I forgot what happens to me. I was reminded quickly, since what happens is that within about ten minutes, some guy starts dancing with my ass. Not with me, with my ass. This always happens, but I'd forgotten about it. Anyway, he wasn't scary or anything, so I got him to buy me a drink, fully intending to drink it and disappear, for I am a total bitch after all. But we started talking, and again with the inability to shut the fuck up. Probably it had something to do with the massive amount of alcohol I consumed, but he seemed interesting, so I hung out with him for a while. (If you are related to me or you are easily offended, please skip to the next paragraph) I ended up bringing him back to my apartment, after everyone I was with made jokes about how I was sure to have a good time, since the guy happened to be black. Calm down, that wasn't the reason I brought him home, I really was having a good time. Well, it turns out that the stereotype is wildly inaccurate. Not only did this guy not have a big dick, he in fact had the smallest dick I have ever seen in my life. I mean that in all sincerity. Dude was tiny. Like, maybe four inches. So after that awkwardness, I had to take him back to his friend's house.
The next unusual thing happened when I had to go to the grocery store since I had pretty much only pasta left to eat. I hit up Trader Joe's, because I would starve without that place I tell you. After I stocked up on orange chicken, I headed over to Albertson's for supplementary stuff. I was kinda spaced out, focusing on steering my wonky-ass cart without crashing it, so I wasn't paying attention. I heard somebody say hello, but I heard it in that vague background sort of way. Then I heard, "Ok, fine, don't say hi. i see how it is." This got my attention, and I love to eavesdrop, so I looked around to see what was going on. The cashier that I had passed on my way in was staring at me with a huge grin on his face and said "Are you gonna say hi or what?" I was like, "Me? Ok, hello." Then he smiled even bigger and I blushed and wandered off to find my groceries. Y'all, he was hot too. So I decided to go to his checkout line when I was finished. He said something like "Oh no, here's the girl who doesn't talk to anyone." Then there was some hardcore flirting action. It was nuts. I seriously didn't know how to act. I'm so not used to that. That sort of think doesn't really happen to me. I wasn't even dressed cute or anything. I was completely covered up and my hair was just kinda thrown up in a messy pony tail and I had some serious raccoon eyes going on.
Given all of these random and rapidly occurring instances with guys, I think that there must be some sort of pheromone just pouring off of me. What other explanation can there be?

Wine-drinking, Cradle-robbing and General Devilment

Of all the things that I could say about Pamala, one thing I could never say is that this girl does not come through for me. Mere minutes after posting about my desire for some shenanigans, not only did she arrange for some, but she arranged for drunken shenanigans! For Pamala, this is huge. I was, in fact, the first person to witness Pamala drink enough alcohol to go and play in the ocean. Fully clothed. At two o'clock in the morning. And who was right next to her? That's right.
In keeping with our theme of wine, Pamala once again "procured" a bottle of wine from some work function or other. After she called me at the last minute to inform me that we were wearing dresses tonight (but neglected to tell me that we were still wearing flip flops) she told me to head over to Sara's house. Sara lives in I.V. still, on Pardall no less. It's pretty much the greatest thing ever. I hustled over there, anticipating having to park three blocks away and hike over to Sara's in my heels, but man did I luck out with a spot right out front. The night was in my favor I tell you. I was greeted at the door by Pamala and a wine glass full of some type of white. I never did find out what kind...and I still don't care. Pamala drained what was in the glass, looking for all the world like a pro, and handed it to me. I filled it back up for myself and, to my eternal delight, Pamala took the bottle from me and drank straight out of it! That's my girl.
After the three of us polished off the bottle, we headed out into the streets of I.V., decked out in our finery.
Our first stop was at some girl whose name I have completely forgotten's house on DP. Pamala and Sara were a bit tipsy from the wine, but I alas was far more sober than I wanted to be. After some difficulty, we managed to persuade the gate that we did indeed wish to pass through it. This would not be our only trouble with gates. Before we entered, Sara turned to us with a stern admonition that we were going to find Whatshername, say hello, go to the bathroom (what, we're girls, that's how we roll) and then bounce. As soon as we passed through that troublesome gate, I could see why. It was quite a crowded party, but there was an odd, almost stilted air to it. It seemed like everyone there had a very affected air, like they were all simply acting how people are supposed to act at parties, but there was no real revelry in the air. We made our way past the beer pong and the smokers to the inside of the house. I disappointedly surveyed a kitchen full of empty bottles. Then we found whoever that girl was. I remember what she looked like, but her name? Introductions all around, and small talk ensued. I sort of drifted off a bit when some guy almost ran into me, and some guy magically turned into Ryan Grandov, whom I hadn't seen or spoken to since Chris and I broke up two years ago. Awkward...In fact, Ryan and I only knew each other through Chris, double awkward. After the requisite how are you's, we jumped right into the only subject we have in common, Chris. I mention that Chris had called me the week before (true) and that Chris had gotten accepted into a Master program in Medieval Studies in York (also true, go Chris) and we chatted about how perfect that is, what with Chris wanting to be a Viking and all. See how much of this inane conversation I remember? Clearly I was too sober. At least I wasn't drunk enough to do something untoward with this guy I barely know while his Probably Girlfriend was hovering in the background. I said goodbye and found Sara and Pamala again, waiting for the bathroom in the hallway. It took us a few minutes of staring at the wall to realize that it was covered in post-it notes that the residents had written their special inside jokes on. As we were perusing these, a guy with some sort of hat and facial hair approached us to inquire if this was the bathroom line. We affirmed, and Sara told the guy that he looked very familiar. He told her his major, which was the same as Sara's, and she introduced us and then chatted with him a bit. Pamala was off in her own little world, amusing herself with the wall, and I was bemusedly watching her. The random guy and Sara finish chatting and said goodbye, bringing my and Pamala's attention back. He shook Sara's hand and then he kind of patted Pamala on the shoulder and said nice to meet you. Then he put his hand on my upper arm and leaned over to tell me that it was nice to meet me too, and slid his hand between my arm and my breast and slid his hand down my arm. Then, mercifully he left. I was shocked, but, honestly, what's a night out in I.V. without somebody getting molested? I was just taking one for the team here. Not that I didn't freak out about it outside, after we tricked the wily gate into letting us back out.
After some random events and only getting lost twice because Pamala couldn't remember the house number of where we were trying to go, and started combining the numbers of house we were going to with the house we had just left, we managed to make it to Tomer's birthday party. This house also had a gate, but lucky for us it also had a Gate Man, who let us in totally unquestioned. We are that awesome. The house had looked tiny from the front, and the actual house was tiny. But it turns out that it was only to make room for the biggest party I've ever seen in my life. There was a huge backyard area, complete with a full bar. Opposite the bar there were two huge storage shed serving as dance rooms, and in the back there was a patio with couches and the requisite beer pong table. We wandered aimlessly, searching for the birthday boy, and ended up by the beer pong. Needed a rest, we threw caution to the wind and actually sat on a DP couch. An outdoor one, no less. What were we thinking?
Time for some backstory. Pamala has known Tomer through Hillel for about a year. Until a few weeks ago, she'd never looked twice or thought about him at all. Then he asked her for her number, and Pamala gave him a total bitchface and asked why would he want it. Pamala does this thing, see, whenever guys hit on her, she is taken aback and creeped out, even if the guy is totally normal. So I forget what all happened, but she did end up giving Tomer her number. Big surprise though, he only invited her on Facebook and never actually called her. Sara and I gave her a fair amount of shit for that, because that's what we're there for. To call our friends on their bullshit. So since he didn't ever call, Pamala became a total girl and became intrigued. And that's pretty much how we ended up at his 21st birthday party.
Where were we? Right, sitting on the couch. After I decided that screw this I'm getting a drink, we all headed over to the bar. Pamala started texting to see where the next party we were heading to was, and I was strategizing how to get a beer. Suddenly someone yelled and ran up and hugged Pamala. She yelled "TOMER!" confirming for us that this was indeed the long-sought birthday boy. He was so excited to see her, it was adorable. She lightly admonished him for not calling her, and then he asked if any of us wanted a drink. This night kept getting better, I tell you. We sent him off to get me a beer, and then Sara chided Pamala to be nice to Tomer, since she had been so mean to him before. We seemed to wait a long time when we suddenly heard Tomer yell "PAMALA!" through the crowd. We called back, and he appeared from the crown with a lovely beer for me. I thanked him profusely and had at it, content to watch the show. And what a show it was, Pamala flirting outrageously with Tomer, and poor Tomer getting his signals all mixed up. After he scurried off, we had a laugh at Pamala's expense, since he's so very young for her to be flirting with, and headed back out to the next party.
The third party was really lame, and after we forced our way through the toughest gate of them all (what is it with you people and gates?), we found the person Pamala wanted to see, went to the bathroom and headed back to Sara's. We spent the next hour sobering up and making fun of Sara's romance novels.
The next day I remembered why I don't drink white wine. As I was recovering, Pamala and I spent a good four hours getting groceries and looking for propane tanks, so that she could actually have the barbecue that she'd invited everyone to. We had a good time at her place, and some good food. After everyone went home, myself included, Pamala and I made an amazing discovery. We both think that Tomer is hot. Now this may not sound all that amazing to you, but here's the thing-Pamala and I never think that the same guy is hot. Ever. We have had discussions about it. We spent way, way too long looking at pictures of Tomer and marveling about how young he is and how neither of us is allowed to date him. Little does Pamala know, I have no morals.

You Make Me Wanna...

The other day Pamala sent me a link to her horrible roommate's boyfriend's blog. He is possibly the most boring person on the face of the earth. Here's the conversation that ensued:

Sarah: FINALLY

Pamala: sorry
Pamala: just got home

Sarah: i wanted to talk crap about bryan's blog
Sarah: which was pysically painful to read

Pamala: so incredibly boring
Pamala: i scanned

Sarah: please go and click on view my full profile

Pamala: holy crap
Pamala: still
Pamala: falcon's eyes
Pamala: for gods sake

Sarah: what is he socrates

Pamala: no, look at the "welcome"
Pamala: holy gold
Pamala: i can't stop laughting
Pamala: wtf

Sarah: interesting happenings of his life?
Sarah: seriously??

Pamala: yeah

Sarah: ok did you look at the profile yet

(The part I'm talking about goes like this: there is a random question on the profile. His was "Please describe how you could take the peel off an apple all in one go: " His answer was "What would we do if we had the power to change human history? What would we change? Who would we stop, let go, save, kill?")

Pamala: but would you respond to how to peel an apple with a series of questions

Sarah: apparently if we had the power to change human history (time travel?) we would...peel...apples...?
Sarah: please please please look at his favorite musoc
Sarah: music
Sarah: muSUCK
Sarah: and books?
Sarah: i want to STAB something

Pamala: hahahahahahahahaha
Pamala: this is about the opposite person i would be interested in
Pamala: btw orly is coming

(Orly was my roommate senior year. She is the embodiment of awesome.)

Sarah: WHEN

Pamala: unless she backs out last minute again
Pamala: maybe saturday night

Sarah: she sent one cancellation already...

Pamala: but dave and i yelled at her over a conference call

Sarah: i can't take this back and forth, up and down

Pamala: breaks your heart a lil each time?

Sarah: and my poor heart can't take these games

(Here's where things get a little muddled, per usual)

Pamala: he is seriously incredibly horribly boring
Pamala: holy god

Sarah: it is sooooooo depressing

Pamala: i just read the questions to his answer the peel

Sarah: but then you forget why you are depressed
Sarah: and then you just are for no reason

Pamala: wait is this orly or bryan

Sarah: its like how being around stupid people makes you dumb

Pamala: b/c both make me depressed

Sarah: bryan

Pamala: okay that is what I thought

Sarah: because he is so forgettable
Sarah : i could never forget orly

Pamala: ahh its just terrible
Pamala: but its true
Pamala: yes to orly

Sarah: bryan just makes me want to kill myself

Pamala: agree
Pamala: it's just...so...bad

Sarah: i like how it was all like one week in february

Pamala: haha didn't even notice
Pamala: it's like his concentration was for one week

Sarah: this is concentration?

Pamala: well for him, i am guessing yes

Sarah: and the best part is that i KNOW that blogger has a spell check

Pamala: haha and he didn't utilize it

(You will have to go look yourself if you want to see what these are about. It's very short, but it is painful.)

Sarah: at ALL
Sarah: did you see "quant"

Pamala: ohmygod did you "sement"

Sarah: or just not quite getting phrases right

Pamala: did you see "sement"!

Sarah: i seriously felt a pain

Pamala: it makes me wonder what this world is coming to

Sarah: sement... it hurts me pam

Pamala: hhahahaha me too

Sarah: my brain...
Sarah: it is stunned

Pamala: and then he gets philosophical about the sement

Sarah: i just almost spit out wine all over my compnuter

Pamala: so bad
Pamala: it's just so bad
Pamala: i don't think i have ever been so shocked about the retardedness of a person before

(In this next bit, notice how I break out in song, and also notice how Pamala completely ignores it. Another failed attempt to woo Pam. Sigh...)

Sarah: paula?
Sarah: well that wasnt really "shocking"
Sarah: oooh usher
Sarah: you make me wanna

Pamala: hahaha i thought that too

Sarah: leave the one i'm with

Pamala: maybe...paula....no
Pamala: it's definitely brian

Sarah: start a neeeew relationship
Sarah : wit chu

Pamala: at least paula was sort memorable....not her personality per se
Pamala: but the hair
Pamala: and the pants

Sarah: and her face

Pamala: when she smiled
Pamala: or stared at us

Sarah: i swear to god i though she would try to kill at least one of us

Pamala: i thought it was going to be me

Sarah: i was the biggest bitch to her

Pamala: after the 500th time playing "you'll see" from Rent
Pamala: ahh but you would take her out

Sarah: yeah but i could have been up in my bed-nest dead for days

Pamala: hhaha this is true
Pamala: and orly doesn't pay attention
Pamala: so she wouldn't have noticed

Sarah: she would have been like sarah's sure quiet. hm
Sarah: and then move on

Pamala: just been like...hmm she must be sleeping

Sarah: she usually bugs the shit out of me
Sarah: hm
Sarah: thats what i miss about her the most
Sarah: hearing her go hm

Pamala: orly went hmmm?

Sarah: she did it really short
Sarah: kinda like huh
Sarah: but no u

Pamala: i have to pay attention
Pamala: isn't it funny how it's such the little things

Sarah: totally
Sarah: or i would be talking to her
Sarah: and she would never listen
Sarah: and i would stop
Sarah: and then she would go haaaaaaaa?

Pamala: ahh how i miss that stuff too

Sarah: i'm getting all teary
Sarah: she has to come

Pamala: i know
Pamala: she doesn't realize how much we miss her

Sarah: i swear to god i'm gonna cry when i see her next
Sarah: the emotional precipice i'm on right now?

Pamala: hahah i have totally cried over her before

Sarah: there will be tears
Sarah: this is so weird
Sarah: i've never cried over a girl before

Pamala: oh i have totally
Pamala: over friendships being lost
Pamala: over someone leaving
Pamala: totally
Pamala: i cried when orly left sb

Sarah: well i did cry when i thought you were mad at me and i didnt know why

Pamala: haha when was this?
Pamala: see do i not count as a girl?

Sarah: after game night disaster

Pamala: oh yeah that was horrible

Sarah: no i'm correcting myself

Pamala: i was annoyed at the world

Sarah: clearly

Pamala: vhateva yo

Sarah: you and orly
Sarah: thats it

Pamala: haha well I am glad
Pamala: we are important

Sarah: top o the list
Sarah: what should i write about tomorrow

Pamala: uuum your love for me and olrs

Sarah: probably

Ooh, You Touch My Tra-la-la

As some of you know, this past Saturday Santa Barbara was invaded. To quote the Daily Nexus, UCSB's campus paper, "Günther’s raging sex drive overflowed like champagne in Storke Plaza on Friday, as the Swedish singer and his Sunshine Girls touched UCSB’s tra-la-la during his first-ever West Coast appearance."

It was an auspicious day indeed. Not only did he perform on campus, but it was a free concert. This had some serious ramifications, but we'll get to that later. First the fun stuff. Fans were there early, gazing toward the stage, hoping for a glimpse of His Gloriousness:

We did actually see him arrive. He snuck past where we were sitting. Pam and I were both surprised to learn that he is a rather slight fellow. Not what you would call a manly physique. There were not as many early arrivals as I had anticipated, but there were a few. Including the one and only Laurel Doersam, his "Number One Fan on Myspace!", who was apparently the sole person responsible for bringing Günther’s Empire to UCSB. Somehow.

Not only was she camped out awaiting the Pleasureman, she had a bouquet of lilies for him, which she tried to present to him during the sound check. Günther did his stoic best to ignore this drunken mess of a girl, but she still relentlessly invited him to party in I.V. after the show. After she spilled her Pepsi bottle that smelled like it had a healthy dose of peach schnapps added, she then told everyone around us repeatedly that she was "his Number One on myspace". And by repeatedly I mean that this sentence came out of her mouth about every thirty seconds. And she had that voice? You know? That kinda sounds like this? But. The greatest part about her was her "outfit". Now, I have nothing against dressing up for things (we'll get to my outfit later), but this was almost beyond reason. She had taken what appeared to be an animal-print nightie and torn a slit on the side of it. Literally. Torn. Ragged-edges-with-threads-hanging-down-torn. It sort of looked like this:

Only is was a little less clingy, more silky. And there was a lot of black lace going on at the top. And shorter. And with a slit torn up the side. Did I mention that? Because she tore a slit up the side.

Pamala and I went a different direction in our getups. It never occurred to us to get whored out. We went on a shopping trip to the one and only (not really) Susie's Deals to get Fabulousitized, and we were not disappointed. I was hoping for a bit more glitzy, but I think we hit our mark pretty well:

Even better than Pam and I were Pam's brother Matt and his friend Demarco:

If You Really Loved Me...

You would show it on my birthday. By getting me one of these.

Gunther is Coming!

I can hardly contain myself, I'm so excited. This whole thing seems like a dream. I don't think that I'll ever realize that it's really happening, even while it is. But I do know that I will cherish the memories forever.
It occurs to me that some of you may not have been initiated into the glory that is the worship of Gunther. Those of you who have not swooned at the sight of this prime piece of man-meat, click here. Those of you whole have not marveled at the wondrous musical styling of this world treasure, click on the "teasers". And those of you who wish to rekindle the flame that once burned as bright in your hearts as mine, click here to be united with the love of your life once again.
Join me and the rest of Gunther's faithful followers on May 11th in Storke Plaza at UCSB for a magical evening of Champagne, Glamour, Sex and Respect!