Yeah, that's great...

Yuengling, America's Oldest Brewery



Now why don't you start shipping west of the Mississippi?

Reason # 167 why I can't live alone

You know how they say everyone should experience living on their own once in their life? Not me. I'm no good at being alone. I mean like physically being alone. If left to my own devices, I'd probably become a hermit. A super messy, trashy tv watching, take out eating, wine swilling hermit.

Jota has been out of town for two days, and in that time I...

• Checked the large closet, small closet, and shower 10+ times for crazy men who may have somehow come in through the chained door while I was in the kitchen making dinner.
• Took the trash out for the first time in four months. I almost had to call him to find out where we keep the trash bags.
• Left the recycling in our bin because I have no idea where the big bin is outside.
• Loaded the dishwasher after making dinner. House rule: I cook, you clean. Sweet deal right? Not when it's just me. I'm a messy chef.
• Walked Duff morning and night. Snuggled with Duff morning and night. Stumbled over Duff at the front door while he cried for Jota. Duff is not a one person dog. He's a needy bitch with the ability to drive anyone mad with his incessant need for love.
• Walked to the liquor store to buy tampons, wine, and a pint of Ben and Jerry's.
• Debated calling the cops at 2:00am because the bum kids were smoking pot on the corner. Oh and having dog fights.
• Debated calling Jota at 2:15am because I needed to pee and was afraid to walk to the bathroom "alone".
• Thought up excuses for why I can't bike to a concert at the pier tonight. Winner: "I'm baking for the office in celebration of the holiday weekend."
• Tried on tons of outfits after drinking 1/2 a bottle of Beaujolais, leaving the majority of the clothes strewn around the bedroom.

Once upon a time, long ago, actually almost five years ago, Byn was thisclose to convincing me to move to Tampa for a few months before Jota and I came to Santa Monica. Girl, thank God you dodged that bullet.

It's Happened!

Baby (insert nickname you've been calling him*) Barker is here! Willam James Barker entered our world Sunday afternoon, surrounded by his parents, grannies, and oh about seven different aunties and uncles. Well, not really aunts and uncles, but all of our friends are so excited to share in little Liam's life.

Mommy did a great job, and all of us could not believe she didn't even break a sweat during her 40 mins of pushing. Em looked absolutely beautiful, and we can't help but feel a bit bitter that she made it look so easy! OK, maybe I'm speaking for myself.

Nick made sure to wear his Manchester United shirt in the delivery room, making sure the first thing Liam saw was his beloved soccer team. Judging by the way the little guy kicks and how long his legs are, I'm betting he'll be an amazing little striker.

Sorry for being a bit all over the place, but I'm still in shock that there is an actual BABY in our world. A cute, little, perfect baby. I'm so incredibly proud of his parents, and can't wait to take part in shaping Liam's bright future.


* Parker, Beau-Beau, Doo

Ma Ma I gots the itchies!

Now that I'm a big kid who doesn't live with Mommy and Daddy anymore, I've become a bit of a baby. Well, honestly, I've always been a bit of a baby. I guess I never grew out of it.


For starters, I have a serious fear of needles. Like, complete, inappropriate fear, because really, unless it's a shot in the ass (or elbow) it really doesn't hurt. So ridiculous is my fear that I found it absolutely necessary to tell my new doctor in Santa Monica that if I was going to get blood drawn that I would probably pass out. Well, being the awesome doctor that he is, when I showed up at the blood drawing place, they made a huge show, in front of kids no doubt, "Oh we heard about you. You're the big baby who needs to lie down."


Don't get me started on the girly doctor. I stress myself out so much that I need to take the day off work just to get my annual Pap. Oh, and I've definitely had the doctor ask me to pop two valium before getting there.


Right now, I'm fighting a vicious battle with poison oak. At least I think that's what it is. Wikipedia says that poison ivy doesn't grow in California, Hawaii, or Alaska, and poison sumac doesn't grow west of Idaho. And of course it's true because Wikipedia doesn't lie, and everything you find on the internet is true.*


Anyways, I've got this wicked rash all over my left elbow (not to be confused with the keg injured right elbow), as well as my left calf. And PS, it is nasty. Like, can't even handle touching it when I put medicine on it nasty. How did I get said itchies you ask? I have no fucking clue. Did I go hiking? No. Did I come into contact with any type of bush? No, well unless you count the half dead ferns and wild flowers growing by my front door. Still not poison oak.


Have you ever looked up home remedies for poison ivy/oak? One is bleach. I thought, "Bleach?! Who is fucking dumb enough to put straight bleach on their skin?"


While I'm certainly not dumb enough, I am quite desperate. Thankfully, Jota got me some fancy stuff called Tecnu EXTREME.


"Dude, that is so not extreme."



Sorry, couldn't help letting that one slip. The stuff is amazing! It has these great little scrubbies that allow me 15 seconds of complete and total relief of the itch. Which I need. I hear the ocean helps as well. I guess I know where I will be this weekend.




* so maybe I'm generalizing a bit.