***Update: Contest is closed! Winner announced here***

Lean Pockets!!!

*cue Jim Gaffigan* “hoooooooooot POCKETS”

Like a few of my favorite gals (and guy) across the blogosphere, I was recently given the opportunity to throw a “Wrapped in Goodness” party to showcase the Lean Pockets new Culinary Creations to some of my besties. They not only provided the grub (in delicious Pocket form), they also gave each of us our very own Snuggie, provided a gift card for “party supplies” (read: LOTS O BOXED WINE), and oodles of coupons for free Lean Pockets for my guests.

Seeing as this party was a triple win from the start, it really couldn’t have been a better night. I asked all the ladies to bring their favorite chick flick and themselves, preferably in PJs- and nothing more. B disappeared to a friend’s house for the evening and the girls’ night kicked off promptly.

(Now, trust when I say that, even though it’s been a while since I was a single gal, the stereotype of the convenient “for one” meal + Snuggie was not lost on me. To this I say, who cares? Free food/booze/blankets with sleeves, all of which are things I individually adore! But, just so you know I’m not completely oblivious. You guys know me better than that.)

Delicious Snuggies forrrrrr meeeeeeeeeeee (us), I *guess*

Bubbles and carbs FTW!!!

Just in case you weren't excited yet. And yes, my shirt *does* say "purrito".

This is what's called a "fancy table". Just FYI.

You can tell exactly how lazy I am by the fact that I bought cute “winter” cups to disguise the fact that they weren’t actually wine glasses, meaning I wouldn’t ACTUALLY have to do dishes. Whatevs. That snowman is way cute!

A Q&A game they sent us. Answer to whether my friends are veggie paninis or corndogs: Everyone in my life is a corndog. Duh.

Getting Snuggilicious with it.

Ain't no party like a Maxie party.

I love my friends.

Even our crazy can't scare away the ferocious Murray.

SNUGGIE PHOTO BOMB!!!!!!!!!!!

Once everyone had settled in and warmed themselves with Snuggies and boxed wine and kitty faces, it was time to stuff our faces, like any respectable ladies’ night in:

Finally time to dig in...

Going... going... NOM.

The Lean Pockets lasted approximately 2.6 seconds before I had to put a second (and third) batch in the oven. We were especially fans of the Garlic Chicken White Pizza (well, actually, ALL the pizza varieties), and I had bought a couple sausage, egg & cheese pockets for my trip to NYC in the morning with Maxie and Cara that were surprisingly breakfast-sandwich-y delicious.

Cliff Raven 2009 Malbec and 2010 Torrontes

We were also fortunate enough to have  some samplings from Cliff Raven Wine- the malbec was spicy and delicious, while the torrontes was crisp and refreshing. (Thanks so much, @CliffRavenWine!!!)

While my guests certainly lucked out in the Snuggie and free food/booze department, fret not, dear reader, for you too can experience the convenience and nom-ity that is the Lean Pocket… for a YEAR. For free.

What WHAT?!?!!?

Simply by liking this post on Facebook right under my disclaimer below (and leaving a comment to tell me you’ve done so), you’ll be entered in a drawing to win a full year’s supply of Lean Pockets. You can get extra entries by tweeting this post, by liking Lean Pockets on Facebook, and by following them on Twitter (all separate comments, please.)

Basically, with the click of a mouse, you can make it rain cheese and chicken and Lean Pocket pizza up in your face ALL. 2011. LONG.

And that? Is all Imma say about that.

Contest ends at 11:59 pm on Tuesday, December 21. Winner announced at 10 am ET on Wednesday, December 22.

Disclaimer: I was totally provided with Lean Pockets for the night (and coupons for my guests), Snuggies, and gift cards both for party supplies and as a host thank-you. Despite this, y’all know opinions are my own. Boo yah.

Mama said share.

Remember last summer when we all “Got Our Kvetch On, Blogging Style“? We bitched and moaned about the things that drive us INSANE when it comes to blog layouts, features, writing, etc.

Well, as a contributing editor over at DC Blogs, we deal with that shiz every time we go through some hundreds of blogs to find our favorites for a round up. Co-contributing editor Restaurant Refugee and I decided to have a drunken gchat of a rant share with y’all some of the things that (almost) automatically disqualify a post from being included.

So check it out and share your thoughts… or just see what I look like on gchat after throwing back a couple cocktails.

It’s Not You, It’s Your Aesthetic

P.S. B and I are going to be visiting the Windy City the weekend of October 9th to see my bffie Kbo run the Bank of America Chicago Marathon. This means two things:

1. My girl’s running with TNT to beat leukemia! If you have a dollar or ten to spare, please please support her!

2. If you’re in Chicago or will be or COULD be on Saturday, October 9th, let me know in the comments and I’ll add you to my email list for the meet up I’ll be plotting. What what!

P.P.S. Because it’s Friday: http://youshouldhaveseenthis.com

Mama said share.

I keep my promises… without further ado, living proof my my bull riding experience at the The NYC 20sb Happy Hour… cape and all.

*shame

*wait no

*quite awesome, actually.

Mama said share.

Oh, BlogHer. I honestly don’t even know where to start.

*dives right in*

I got on a Bolt Bus Friday morning, anxious to meet my e-friend and roommate Elizabeth for the first time. I had an Expo/Party pass from the lovely Justine of Brand About Town, and two full days in NYC with only one specific thing on my schedule: the Saturday evening 20sb Happy Hour at Johnny Utah’s, where I had vowed to ride the hell out of their mechanical bull.

The bus took off and I was officially Excited In The Pants for all the things to come… until it broke down, an hour outside of DC. Like, electricity-off-broke-down… aka no A/C. So we suffocated on the side of the road until a new bus could be brought to fetch us. Finally, we were on our way again, and the trip was relatively uneventful until we were actually approaching NYC, and the bus was making unwieldy turn after bumpy exits after terrifying tunnel… and it was that moment I very urgently needed to pee.

Against my better judgment, matter won over mind, and I unsteadily made my way into the sliver of a “bathroom” at the back. Once inside, I was faced with a grave problem: there was no way to not fall over without supporting oneself against the walls, and yet there was no way I was touching those walls. I almost wish the next two minutes were on camera, as I was flipped around that 9 square foot space, using elbows and a few 1 ply squares of TP to try to keep myself from tumbling into the cesspool of a toilet, as well as relieve myself without decorating the restroom, or worse, myself.

Let’s just say by the time I made it out of there, I was fairly certain that mechanical bull wouldn’t be a problem at all.

We arrived without further incident, and I entered the Hilton New York in Times Square to see BlogHer here, there, and everywhere. We had taken OVER the place. Everywhere you looked were women chatting, sharing, promoting, exchanging, inspiring, laughing. By the time I made it up to my room, it was obvious that BlogHer had pwned the Hilton… and it was awesome.

I spent a couple hours exploring the Expo halls with Elizabeth, where sponsors handed out swag and chatted up their new products, but more importantly, were awesome people who actually wanted to hear what WE had to say. The number one question I was asked was, “Are you a blogger??” They were EXCITED to meet us, to share with us, to impress us. *cue “A Whole New World” music*

When my arms started to hurt from the bags o’ swag, I met the beautiful Kinsey for dinner at a pub around the corner from the Hilton. We’d met before at a happy hour in Boston, but it was so great to have some one on one time and really get to talk. She’s got some exciting things in store for you, Boston- be sure to watch that girl.

After a bit, my beloved Matt met up with us for drinks.

And drinks and drinks and drinks and drinks and drinks.

Kinsey took off for a Sex and the City tour with her girlfriends, so Matt and I did what any normal people would do:

Got even more plastered and found the nearest karaoke bar.

Shitfaced at some ridiculously pretentious strangely all-white basement club, we ordered our $12 drinks and looked at the song book. This choice was not to be taken lightly.

We had two requirements: first, it had to be a duet, and second, it had to be the absolute WORST duet we could possibly think of.

Please to enjoy…

Shortly thereafter (for obvious reasons), we called it a night.

In the morning, this happened:

Followed by this:

To be continued… (and, um… Saturday? Put Friday to SHAME. That is all.)

Mama said share.

No, literally. She sent me this. Like in an email.

Gotta say, while freaking hilarious, it doesn’t quite hold a candle to the hot mess that was Liza Minnelli’s rendition in SATC2 (aka the only five minutes I didn’t want to put my eyes through a sieve during that movie).

Happy weekend! And thanks to everyone who came out last night for the Happy Hour- so great to see you!

Maxie
Lexa
Brad
Katie
12minds
GraceElena & her darling man
Restaurant Refugee
JerzeyGrrl
DCPrincess &”the boy”
Jesserker
Elizabeth Clay
RachelSmiles & her entire office building
Jasmine
The Northerner
J. Money & delightful friend
Malnurtured Snay
AmandaKruse
Lusty Reader and her charming hubby
LA Cochran
Gilahi
Rachel (What a Grand World)
and pixie658 all the way from VA beach! Amazing to see you so soon after Vegas!

If I forgot anyone, hugs and kisses, my brain is not, how do you say, *functioning*, yet. Let me know and I’ll fix it on the fly, yo.

Thanks again for coming… bear hugs and big wet smooches!

~take it, leave it, love it, spank it~

Mama said share.

Okay, people. I know you want your Vegas. Get the fuck ready, cause I’m not holding back. 

My ten favorite most memorable things that I wish I could scrub from my brain with a razor blade, a la Vegas… 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

1. Whenever Maxie, RS27, Lbluca77, Shine, Mary and I are in a room together, someone’s going to get hurt. (Pride not included.) Also, this only makes me love them more, which is scientifically impossible but still true. 

RS27′s arm after battling Maxie’s curling iron: 

Maxie managed to keep a picture of her head wound from being taken, but… 

And finally, this is my own UDI (Unidentified Drunk Injury): 

That’s what happens when you snuggle Maxie too hard, I suppose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

2. Doing a party dress fashion show (fashion show! fashion show! fashion show at LUNCH!) that involved me changing multiple times in what I did not know was an entirely see-through closet. In a hotel room full of people. And none of them TOLD me. 

Also see: me asking Shine to zip up one of said dresses. “No, really. Go ahead. Just pinch me if you have to! PINCH IT!!! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

3. Finding these shirts in Wisconsin: 

Words clearly not necessary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

4. Discovering the art of fake retweeting friends on twitter. See Exhibits A through E. Okay, and F. (Btw that last one totally backfired on her, because some dude DM’d her “Not to be dirty… But the footjob tweet was f*cking hot! ” 

Ew ew gross get me a shower holy vomit in my hair GROSS. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

5. Sharing raunchy sex stories in one of the hotel rooms with some two dozen ladies… and RS27. 

That's about right.

My own submission? Walking in on my grandparents doing it. 

God, I’m great at parties. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

6. Surprise Trust-Falling Rachel into the pool. And by trust-falling, I mean surprise dive-bombing. She’s a sport, y’all. I did at least asked if she minded getting wet first. I did not, however, wait for an answer before shouting “TWSS!!!!!!” and launching our bodies into the air. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

7. Friday night dance party was the most magical thing ever. Two things everyone from Vegas now knows about me: 

A. If you put me in the center of the dance circle, the grand finale of my repertoire will probably be flashing the girls at my love bunnies, Katelin and Vixations. 

B. If a guy from a group of creepy straight boys passive aggressively unpops the collar of our favorite gay because he has the jealousies, I will bitch slap him upside his head. That is all. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

8. Maxie, RS27 and I dancing through the hotel singing the Always Sunny Dayman and Troll Toll songs from start to finish. Like, a dozen times. How did we not get beat up, bozos??? 

“Stage freeze!” “Don’t SAY stage freeze, just do it!!!” 

This is how you dooo iiiiiiiiiiit. (This is how you do it.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

9. Face-licking the hell out of Chelsea the moment I met her. I mean full-on tongue, to the ear, people. AND YOU ALL THOUGHT I WOULDN’T DO IT. 

Also, she rocks. See? 

No drop of beer shall go undrunk! Undranken? My head hurts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

10. Zomg, I’m still hungover. I quit. Here’s a bunch of pretty pictures. 

We're on a PLANE!!!

Proof that Maxie is an elf.

Proof that I need a helmet.

Look! I'm normal sometimes!

Jay kaying, jay kaying. Never normal.

Adam Lambert, I mean RS27's boyfriend, I mean Ben.

Apparently, Ben thinks I should inform you guys that this was a theme party. LIKE YOU DON’T WEAR THAT EVERYDAY. Not buying it.

GIVE ME YOUR HAIRRRRRRRRRRRR (ps love you Katelin!)

Bottle service. YES WE ARE THAT BADASS. Bishes.

Finally, I have my own Ebony to my Ivory!

Me OWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

Airport french fry breakfast. And yes, my shirt says "Bayside High Technology Team." You may judge me for neither.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Everyone who came, it was a blast meeting all of you. I only wish we’d had more time and less tequila. 

LOVE YOUR FACES. 

Now excuse me while I go throw up.

UPDATE: Yes yes yes Maxie has surrendered a picture of the head wound!!! Here it is in all its purple glory…

Mama said share.

Because you should be… and not just because it has the best opening credits song since The Wire.

(Click here for more info.)

Listen to me. I’m a doctor.*

*of Loooooooooooooove.**

**Also, shuttup. I am recovering from a bachelorette and it may have been my first one but dayum, y’all… I am TOO OLD for this shit.

Mama said share.

I woke up yesterday morning to an SOS message in my inbox.

“Dear Lilu…aka Karaoke Queen….

I have NEVER been….

I have been invited to go….

March 13….

Would you consider writing a blog post on HOW TO KARAOKE?

I mean seriously….how many drinks are involved?

Do you pick a song based on ease of lyrics or personal love?

I am intrigued and terrified at the same time.”

~ Donna

Well, Donna. Given that I know a little something about unabashedly crooning for strangers, particularly in seedy bars, how could I not help a sister out?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Rules to PWNing Karaoke

First things first. You want to get there early and snag a table with an excellent view of the humiliations- I mean, performances. Choose a place that serves ginormous beers on the cheap so you don’t miss having your name called by the DJ while ordering a beverage. You should occasionally have someone bring a round of shots by to lube the wind pipes your dignity.

Drink heavily and with purpose. You need to be bordering on sloppy drunk but perform justbefore going over the edge. Timing is of the essence here, people.

Now, the venue. It’s preferable if the place is extra shady; things like poor lighting and the stunted walls of an acoustically-challenged basement can only help you here, folks.

Next, you’re going to need a group of friends to share the pathetic experience with you. More is better because it increases the chances of anyone remembering anything. Less is better because it decreases the chances of anyone remembering anything. Either way, you should definitely choose them from the “Will Have to Love You Anyway” pile.

Now it’s song choice time. There are a few basic rules to this:

1. Make sure you know either 50% of the words or 100% of the beat. Make SURE. Just because you rocked City High’s “What Would You Do” in high school doesn’t mean you can do it now, friend. Trust.

2. Choose a song the whole bar will want to sing. Unless you’ve actually got serious skills, class participation is key to making everyone forget that you probably kind of blow at this. Also? Nothing downer, unless it’s hilarious, like All 4 One’s “I Swear.” No one wants to hear you wail out to T.L.C.’s ”Waterfall” or, God forbid, Oasis’ “Wonderwall.” Save that for the car. (Not applicable when driving in Southeast D.C.)

3. DO NOT choose one of the most cliché karaoke songs ever. It makes the bartender groan because you are now that person that put on “Friends in Low Places” or ”Don’t Stop Believin’” for the eleventy millionth time . I don’t care if it reminds you of college and a time when you didn’t know what IBS was. Do not be That Guy/Girl.

(…Let someone else do it. Because I guarantee they will, and then you get to sing it anyway. God, I love those songs.)

Once you take the stage, which should be earlier on the night (you don’t want to have to follow anything awesome- you want to BE the awesome!)… anyhoo, you’re going to want to have a set of decent and/or ridiculous but wholly entertaining dance moves at your disposal. These will be helpful during musical interludes, places where you flat out forget lines or totally lose the beat, or to dodge items should they start, um… coming your way. (Remember the five D’s: dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge!)

There’s really only one word you need to know to give a unique and memorable karaoke performance:

COMMITMENT.

Don’t half-ass it, folks. If you suck, suck royally. If you dance, dance your heart out. If you don’t know the words, sing louder. OWN your time on that stage. Own it hard.

Whether you like it or not, friend, you’re putting on a show. You might as well make it epic… for better or for worse.

***Update!

Addendum: When coming to the grandiose finish of your performance, no matter WHAT song you’re singing, you must thrust your arms in the air in a “V for Victory!” fashion and shout, “KNIBB HIGH FOOTBALL RULES!!!!!!!!!!”

That is all.***

Mama said share.

Sorry. The “aughts” was just such a great name. It’s going to be hard to let go.

Anyhoo. I think resolutions are for quitters, or something, so I’ll be doing these MY WAY.

Which is, of course, totes different from the way I ever do anything else.

(B, I can hear you laughing.)

My (Not-So-Resolution-y) Resolutions.

1. Start wearing more bling.

I’ve never been good at wearing accessories, be it of the sparkly/shiny, nail polishy, or badass hat/scarf/insert other French thing here. I HAVE them, it just never occurs to me to WEAR them. Matching is hard, yo. Most mornings I’m just trying to remember to wear a bra and some mascara, never mind make sure I have my brown watch on with my gold earrings, or whatevs. But I could probably stand to look a bit more, ahem, put together.

Either that, or start working from home and never, ever wear pants again.

God, option two sounds GREAT.

2. Call my sister more.

She’s pretty awesome. And she’s the only one I’ve got. And she gives me MAD SHIT when she calls me and I don’t answer and then email her back a month later with a link to some tardy cat video. I know, redic. Fine, woman. I will call you every damn day and ask you alllllllllll about your JOB SEARCH (holla? Anyone in Beantown hiring a genius, incredibly funny 23 year old?) and your LOVE LIFE and your BOWEL MOVEMENTS until you’re screening my calls because you don’t want your friends to hear me yelling about your stools. So there.

Love you mean it.

3. Never, ever, ever drink Firefly sweet tea vodka again.

No, really. NO, REALLY. I am still hungover from Saturday. That stuff rips me up. Firefly going in, FIRE coming out. Just sayin. *dies of death*

In fact, I think I may take January off from drinking, in honor of both shrinking my ass, and this awesome Scottish dude I used to work with in a Maggiano’s who always did it “just to make sure he still could”. I’m pretty sure Scottish dudes are wise, or something. Especially ones with as many awesome “this guyyyyyy!!!!!” jokes as he had.

4. FOUR? Whoa, whoa, whoa, little overachiever. Let’s take this slow. Mama’s still hungover, remember??

Happy New Year, lovers.

P.S. Did you vote for me yet in the 20SB Bootlegger Awards? You totally can. Til Sunday. I won’t even get mad. Swear.

Mama said share.

Ever since Maxie showed me this, I have been unable to stop watching it.

(If I turn up dead? B killed me, and this video is why.)

*giggles uncontrollably*

No? Just me?

Sigh. It’s hard being weird sometimes.

Mama said share.