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So busy. So, so, SO busy.

But it’s all good. Truly, it is. Things are basically amazing, which is great, but it means any spare minutes I have, I’ve been using to:

Recuperate from work and travel…

I was here for *EIGHT* days and never set a toe in the water or the sand. SADS.

Brunch and drink wine with the girls on Cara’s new rooftop:

Be ignored by my too-cool-for-school cats…

And as you can tell, becoming newly obsessed with Instagram, the app that can make any horrible photographer (me) take seemingly artsy/edgy pictures. Tee hee hee, I fooled you!!!

Anyway, until I have some free time to write something of substance, here’s a video of a monkey riding a dog.

Because, yanno… it’s a MONKEY RIDING A DOG.

Mama said share.

… is what I would name my monkey if I could get my hands on one.

Because then at least we’d HAVE some round these parts.

I’m not sure what it is lately. My own mother recently asked me if I just wasn’t writing about my life…

Or if it was just *that* boring.

(In not those exact words, perhaps, but, yanno. A daugter knows.)

The problem is, my life IS boring… boring, and simple, and drama free, and oh so goddamn CONTENT.

I have my man. My amazing friends, both near and far. A couple of furbabies that make me laugh for hours on end, a couch made for my ass to sink into, and Netflix streaming in all the watch-instantly Dexter and Friday Night Lights a girl could ever want.

Life is good.

Maybe a little *too* good… because I am stumped, people. What am I supposed to share with you? The glorious view of my cat’s butt from the couch and how happy it makes me?

Oh, shit… I already did that.

No shame. ... (Okay, a LITTLE shame.)

Of course, there was this past Saturday night, when we had to beat down some d-bag in AdMo for calling random chicks pregnant on the street, before dancing the night away with some odd ducks wearing fanny packs and fighting off the 21 year old trying- very poorly, I might add- to roofie Lexa.

Maybe my life isn’t as boring as I think…

Mama said share.

I’m back, bitches!

…And more exhausted than ever.

A night of debauchery in Key West, followed by three days at a gorgeous resort helping a bestie pull off the wedding of the year…

Followed by a 32-hour expedition to get home.

It’s amazing how in just three flight delays and a night in a sterile airport hotel, you can completely forget why your skin is sunkissed. All that remains is a set of angry bowels torturing you for what you put it through over the weekend.

Nevertheless, the wedding was absolutely beautiful. The weather was perfect, I got my boobs into my dress somehow, and our sweet bride was a saint compared to the bridezilla horror stories I’ve heard. Both of their families were a blast to drink with get to know, and for the first time in a decade, I managed to get what any Scotch Irish person knows is a tan, and any normal person would call “no longer quite so vampire-y looking.”

Wedding pics to come, but here’s a few of my favorites from our night in Key West…

We're in Miami, bitch! (And clothing is optional...)

"Gimme an awkward morning over any lonely night"

At least he's honest.

Spring Break ot 6 relived!

This is actually a pretty standard sighting down there. ... And I think I bought the same shades the next day.

Is there a "Stuff White People DO" site? Because this belongs on it. (Yes, that is an iPad... at the beach.)*

*I should probably mention that the dude with the iPad is B. Since you’re all making fun of him. He was very careful with his new toy… Look Ma, no sand!

Mama said share.

You know how when people go on fabulous vacations to sunny and exotic places, and they come back and they’re all “it was a-maz-ing and so gor-geous and I’m all tan and glow-y from the rays of the sun!”

And it’s really freaking annoying because everyone else has just been doing the same ‘ol, sittin at their desk, looking at that freaking motivational poster of a cat “hanging in there”, and kind of wish the cat was hanging ITSELF because at least then you could laugh about something- I mean, not that hanging kittens are funny, but hey, it WANTED to go, and it’s really much more fitting with the office atmosphere?

Or something.

Anyhoo, I’ve decided that instead of a JOYful CHEERful OHEMGEE look what I did while you were toiling away at your desk jobs! post, I’m going to take a slightly different direction with it, and tell you all about every last thing that went terribly, horribly wrong.

You see how I love you?

Let’s do this.

1. Thursday, we arrived in Costa Rica at midnight, and grabbed a taxi to a hotel nearby… only to find that it didn’t exist. Our driver took us to the exact address… and it was a cemetary. $75 dollars down the drain later, we gave up and stayed at the stupid Hilton.
2. We bussed up it to Arenal Volcano and hot springs the next day, where we hiked up an enormous and treacherous mountain to NOT see lava at dusk… and then hiked back down in pitch black darkness. Believe me when I tell you it’s a miracle no one lost a limb.
3. While lying in said hot springs, I slowly realized the jacuzzi-esque water felt like it was scalding me… which turned out to be a side effect of the INCREDIBLE sunburn I had already obtained on our FIRST day that covered 75% of my front. Somehow, my knees were 8 shades pinker than anything else. ??????

Finally, we made it to the beach, where we planned to stay for a week of glorious sunshine. Surely things would be relaxing and easy here on out, right?

By mid-week, I had the following afflictions…

1. A NEW sunburn, this time on my entire back side
2. Approximately 53 gigantic bug bites covering my legs and arms, that were about 1,000 times itchier than your average bite, and therefore I was constantly scratching them open because the PAIN FELT BETTER
3. A “sun rash” of tiny red dots on my arms and neck
4. The beginnings of a very unsexy cold. At the beach. In 85 degree weather. AT THE BEACH.

At least one day when we were body surfing, I took a quart of sea water up my nose, which pretty much cleared my sinuses out.

It rained our last two days at the beach, and after a zillion hours of traveling, we finally caught a cab home at Reagan, only to discover the driver had just let out the world’s stankiest, rankiest assplosion of a fart. It smelled like the farts of someone who’d used an entire bottle of Sex Panther. He should’ve knock 2 bucks off the rate for that shiz. BUT, we got to home sweet home in one piece.

So, yeah… all in all?

It absolutely couldn’t have been any better, and I would do it all again in a heartbeat.

I have approximately a kajillion pictures… this is pared down from almost 500. So I apologize, but have at it, hoss…

Costa Effin Rica

Update: I just realized you guys can COMMENT on the pictures. Dum dum dum……

Mama said share.

HI THERE!!!!!

[Waves, gives ridiculously tight hug]

It’s been a while but I’m back in style, massively hating life because I am, for the first time in almost two weeks, at WORK where all these people seem to expect me to DO STUFF.

Redic.

But somehow, some way, I’ll get through it. Pray for me. No, wait, on second thought… just send booze.

Pictures and stories to come, to be sure, but for now, I’m just trying to get through Day 1 of Operation: Back to Real Life. So let’s kick this jam off with a “Shiz My Boyfriend Says… Costa Rica Style”. (Click here for allllllllll the “Shiz My Boyfriend Says”‘s.)

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Costa Rica is full of stray cats and dogs, who despite being most likely riddled with disease, are absolutely adorable. I was definitely the asshole tourist who snuck them food from my plate at basically every restaurant we went to.

Me: Look! The puppy LOVES me!

B: Um, he loves the BACON you are giving him.

Me: Shhhhh. He can tell that it’s love bacon.

B: That’s probably true. Actually, that’s a good idea. You should probably wrap your love for ME in bacon!!!!! I’d love you way more then!

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I speak Spanish, and B, well… does not. This was his response every time I answered anything he asked me in Spanish…

B: Where’s the sunblock?

Me: [Insert Spanish here]

B: Don’t you curse at me!!!!!!!!

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

While watching one of the three English channels, a commercial for the Sims comes on.

Me: Oh, I thought this was an awesome new game for Wii… turns out it’s just the Sims. LAME.

B: Seriously, the Sims is bullshit. You have to make them go to the bathroom and stuff! Why on earth do I want to worry about someone ELSE taking a dump. I have to do my own poops every day! Fucking asshole Sims guy. You think I care if that guy poops?! I don’t give a shit! [insert rambling mumblings about poops...]

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Laying in bed, he asks me to scratch his back, which I HATE because I can feel the dead skin catching under my nails and it’s freaking gross, man.

B: Pleeeeeease, will you itch my back? Just a little bit!

Me: You know I hate that!

B: Well, this way, if I murder you tonight, you’ll have my skin under your nails! Boo yah!

Me: You’ve used that one before.

B: Have I? … Well, it still rings true. [Seeing my face, sighs...] I probably won’t murder you tonight.

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

It’s good to be home.

Mama said share.

It still hasn’t sunk in that tomorrow, yes, TOMORROW, I will be roaming the rainforest-y hillsides of Costa Rica with my lovah. You see that little post tag down on the right, the one that says “dear god how am I not still in Puerto Viejo“, and has FOURTEEN posts dedicated to it? Yeah, well… now I finally WILL be back on that gorgeous Caribbean beach… and I could not be any more stoked in the pants about it.

Don’t be too jealous. I’ll miss you guys, I swear. Just… a little less every time I sip something with a wee umbrella in it.

Now don’t fret- I do have a few posts scheduled to go up while I’m gone, especially the two next installments of the “Post Secret” TMI Thursdays. (Don’t know what Post Secret is? Click HERE to be amazed). Your submissions have been truly awesome… keep ‘em coming, too, and I’ll post them until we get every last one up for all to see. Send them to heylivitluvit at gmail dot com, and if you don’t want even me to know who you are, you can send it from the top secret email account I made just for this purpose…

Log in at Gmail with the username: tmithursday

Password: tmit1234

Okay then! I think we have time for one last “Shiz My Boyfriend Says” before I go, don’t you?

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Yesterday evening, he suddenly hops up off the couch…

B: Baby, I have a poop situation!

Me: By all means…

[He heads to bathroom, stops, comes back to the couch]

Me: What happened?

B: Forgot my beer.

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The other night, we were watching a DVD and left the player on while we went downstairs to do laundry. When we came back…

B: Why is the player off??

Me: It turns itself off after a while if it’s not playing.

B: Well that sucks!

Me: No, it’s good, actually. The player burns out faster if it’s left on all the time.

B: Listen, don’t you contradict me, woman!

Me: YOU taught me that!

B: Well definitely don’t contradict me with things I’ve taught you!!!

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

In the bathroom…

Me: Baby, where’s the bathroom trash can?

B: I threw it away.

Me: … Um, why?

B: IT WAS INEFFICIENT!!!

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

 While watching the Office…

Me: Damn. Erin has a serious rack.

[They talk about Michael falling into the Koi Pond...]

B: Those are like $2000 bucks!

Me: Excuse me?!

B: What? [Blank stare] The koi fish!

Me: OH. I totally thought you meant her boobs.

B: No! [Ponders] Well, those are probably about $2000, too.

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While watching Murray be his adorable dumb self…

B: Murray looks like a mongoose.

Me: He looks nothing like a mongoose.

B: Yes he does! He’s exactly the same. In fact, I replaced him with a mongoose a week ago and you didn’t even notice!! 

Me: … I can’t even argue with that logic. Good one, baby.

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

Farewell, my lovely blogdudes and blogettes. I’ll check in when I can! Don’t have too much fun without me…

UPDATE: I just found out that my BFF Maxie is going to be moving here to DC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am so mad I won’t be here this weekend to celebrate, but Lexa has already been instructed to get you a shot of tequila on me. LOVE YOUR FACE! Congrats and Happy Happy Birthday, my darling wife!

Mama said share.

***Update: Doods! My site caught swine flu and was down all day yesterday. It should be up and running fine now- vaccinate your children!- but do me a solid and let me know if you notice anything wonky, mmmmmkay? Xoxo***

While watching Real World last night (the Cancun scenery serves as a constant reminder of the 10-times-more-gorgeous place I will be in two months)…

Costa Rica, you are seriously my life motto right now.

Anytwaddle, so a few of the roommates end up having a threesome in the bed next to a fourth sleeping roommate. And when she finds out the following morning, she is, as she so eloquently put it, “Totally weirded out”.

Me: Oh, that would totally freak me out too. Ick.

B: Why? It’s the same thing as if it happened in your college dorm.

Me: No no no. In college, you have rules! Socks on door knobs and such- you have to come to a prior understanding about the rules of shared-room sexin’.

B: No way. Freshman year, my roommate Dave came home with a girl. I was sitting up, wide awake, watching TV. He took one look at me and said, “Going to bed, B?” You better believe I said “Yup” and turned out the light. And then, a few minutes later, I heard her say “You’re roommate’s not asleep yet!”, so I did what any good friend would do… and began fake snoring.

Me: Well, okay. But that’s more dude code than anything else. That wouldn’t really happen with girls.

B: Why not? Girls need love too.

Me: I know, but A) we would probably have figured out some elaborate smoke signal system so we wouldn’t be in the room at the same time and B) no guy who’s about to bang would EVER care that her roommate was still awake.

B: Touché, my dear. Touché.

Thank god I’m not college anymore.

Mama said share.

On any given day, I am the biggest proponent of city living you’ll ever meet.

Whereas other people are torn, seeing the positives of big city life as well as wide open spaces, I get hives at the very thought of living anywhere I might have to operate a motor vehicle. My ass looks far too good from the miles of walking I do every week, and the half a mile I drove a car while we were in Virginia last month was TERRIFYING.

But sometimes, it can get to be a bit much here. Because I have this cute little affliction… I think it’s called “Being Notsomuch A Fan of Other People.” And, well, there’s a LOT of them here.

In fact, they’re sort of everywhere. On the sidewalks during my walkin’ commute, they stand in my way. They “do the dance” as they walk towards me, because some people do not understand the simple concept of moving to the right. They are touristy and stop in the middle of the walk and stand on corners while DC-ers pile up behind them.

I love our new neighborhood, but it is very, ahem, Latin. Which means we have great food, but I also cannot take one step outside my apartment in anything other than a burka without being cat called, kissy faced, and hissed at for the next five blocks.

As I crossed the street today, a homeless man I can only describe as yeti-like waited to accost me on the other side. His breath almost made me revisit the banana I’d eaten this morning. Consequently, I will be working out today, if only for the shower I get to take afterwards.

For the second day in a row, I forgot my badge, which I need since I work in a building lots of dirty hippies would LOVE to blow up if given the chance. I do this pretty much every Monday, but it still takes me ten minutes to get through the visitor’s entrance because after nine months of working here, the same three security guards fail- or pretend to fail- to recognize me.

Yesterday was the last day of our old lease. I have emailed, texted, and called our landlord to ask how he would like to handle the return of our keys and security deposit (!!!), but he has been curiously MIA. If he decides to say we’re not getting it back, or says nothing at all, what are we supposed to do? This isn’t my $100 deposit I paid in Carolina, folks. This is almost two grand we’re talking about. Such is city living.

I adore DC. I really, really do.

But it is time for a fracking vacation.

Two months… two months…

/rant.

Mama said share.

Just a lazy little Saturday…

(Um, kinda NSFW/Family? But really, really funny.)

You’re welcome.

Mama said share.

I may have to create a weekly “Ode to the Fugly” or something similar. Thoughts?

You know how I love anything that waddles…

Mama said share.