dear aunt nancy

please stop lurking in the shadows and comment. thanks.

your friend,
danielle

i can't stop listening to the silver spoons theme song

one word - ringtone. yeah. i did it. i'm an effing genius.

i have missed you guys. work has been pretty ridiculous. i haven't had a drop of alcohol since monday. do you read me?? monday was the last time i had the spirits. it's a new fucking record and not in a good way. (ooh, sorry for the french.) but yeah, work's been having major badness and i've been dedicated to making the badness go away. yeah. hi? the corporate asshats are highly misinformed. i couldn't help george michael find his man junk in a public restroom if i wanted. no offense, BGK. oh yes i did. eat it. and bret michaels is also still all up ons. i told her you said hi. then she spit her dip at me. i don't know. maybe she hates you. i don't know.

so here's a tidbit and a status note. i'll be back this weekend and... below is the label from the fedex box that ONE of my married boyfriends sent to me. i have a bunch of them and they are fantastic - you know who you are. they buy and send me stuff in the form of cabs, semi-sweet chocolates, and starbucks. one of them bribed me with "godiva candies" if i said nice things about him on his performance review. um, duh. i said nice things about him. godiva "candies" are heavenly. i don't care who you are, you will disclose national secrets to get them in your mouth. we're still talking about chocolates right?

so it says that they should not deliver to an intoxicated person. why did they let me have this?

talk dirty to me, brett michaels. ew. no don't.

i was going to tell you about my recent run-ins with brett michaels, but i'm sure you don't even care because no one wants to hear about poison anymore. they are old news. literally. very old. and, along those same lines, brett should cut his old damn hair. he looks like brett michaels shaved all the long, flowing, crimped, unruly, bleached, streaky blonde hair off of all the hair bands of the 80s and created a hair suit, except not for his body - for his head. it puts the lotion in the basket. er, deep conditioner on its hair. and gets it cut, and i mean like more than once every 6 years. and stop loving yourself so damn much. your time is gone pal. brett michaels is a pain in my giant sweet ass lately. seriously. i welcome any ideas anyone has on how i might extract his things from my stuff.

after i spent the day sifting through brett's hair, i finally left work and stopped off to pick up a few essentials. and by essentials, i mean bud light cans, menthol lights, and lottery tickets. i stopped at the cute little grocery by my house and purchased only these 3 items. how much did brett michaels influence ME today!? well, you know. he and i are crazy bitches. you know.

JV texted me from horlando and first told me that special dark had changed out of his pump clothes. all i have to say is YES. i want to see these pump clothes. immediately. and stat. i mean, don't you? pump clothes? hello! how often do you get to see someone in their pump clothes. dammit. let's do this.

he then esplained that they were gonna drink dial me. i loves when the mens drink dial me. and i just had an idea; i will get him to send mms pics to me of the wide variety of email nerds there so i can post them for you here and then we can all share in some type of physical reaction to them - nerds in florida. i'm not sure that film ever got made. right?

bachelorettes and sausages

there are some things i'm going to do in 2007. they're not necessarily resolutions, either. i just want them. really bad. you already know about one so that's not going to be a surprise. number two might be a surprise, but i know you and you like surprises so you'll be fine. this is them in no particular order:

1. open a hip wine bar because i love wine and i love bars & i'll probably need a new hip one day
2. be provided with an icy forever diamond for my left hand's ring finger

that's it. just those. #2 can happen first or it can happen second. like i said, i won't mind which order but i will be severely (further) damaged if neither happens within the next 300 days.

in other matters, i went out with some of my people on saturday night. it was fun. we ate polish food from a very polish place. we sat beside a man. the man played piano music for us. it was delightful. here is a picture of my friend meg. she's always got her mouth near something. seriously, will you please look at her eyes? be glad you are not that kielbasa sausage. man. this picture alone is enough to hold this post afloat. there's more.















after meg finished up with her bidness, we proceeded to a bar. the bar was unreasonably inexpensive. there were five of us and i was able to buy a round of the alcoholic beverages for under $18. wtf. why am i not still there. i don't know. oh i know. the bachelorettes. they're why we had to leave. they would not get off the boys we had in attendance. literally.

whilst imbibing at this magical bar, bachelorettes showed up. you knew they would. and these were no ordinary bachelorettes. these bachelorettes had giant racks AND blue balls affixed to their heads by way of plastic headbands. i can really only say one thing in response to this; holy freakin awesome you big b-rettes. and also, i believe i attended middle school with the one who couldn't stop taunting people with her blue balls. strange situation to find ourselves in, yes? they were smashed pretty darn good but still lucid enough to be able to determine that the now six of us were totally sweet bitches and dudes. as soon as they could, they sloshed their midwestern cloud on over to our table. you would be remiss if you did not figure they had a bachelorette party card game in tow.

they were in search of a boy who would assist them in their quest for 100 points. all he had to do was tear his shirt off and pump his guns before a crowded bar. luckily, like i said before, we are all sweet bitches and dudes so my friend f.n.g. agreed to strip for the drunk ladies. any of us would have done anything to assist anyone attain 100 points. you probably would do the same. it's 100 points and that's a lot of points. so he stood up as i motioned to everyone to ensure we had a sizable gallery for the spectacle on deck. in one swift movement, he tore his shirt up and flexed for the cameras. the ladies cheered. the cameras flashed. f.n.g.'s bare chest is now on my blog for the whole world to see. thanks, man. and thanks to you, b-rettes. and also to meg and the sausages.
















if you look closely, you can see the blue balls on her head. oh yes. i just did. snap.

random run

• christopher cross has the voice of an angel
• hall & oates have a catchy tune i never knew about - 'missed opportunity'
• demetri martin is allowed to be my husband one day
• i forgot to tell you that corporate lung juice also talks with her mouth full of gooey lunch food during conference calls. mmmm. yummy.
• sno-caps - where the hell have you been, bitches
• ditto, strawberry zingers
• if i had a nickel for every time i got stranded in a columbian jungle wearing heels and a puffy coat...
• during last week's office episode, i laughed for an hour at the part where phyllis and karen drive off with makeovers
• whatever happened to the hottie real world boys; rugged jamie from new orl, blonde surfer attorney aaron from venice beach, lumberjack shawn from boston (?), greazy mike from miami (funniest season btw, hands down)
• and completely unrelated, i'm all for viagra
• i was born to be a second wife - also unrelated
• a menthol light is going to be on tap
• i grew up watching this repeatedly. where is my brantley whitfield carlton foster?
• lime chips are crazy-face delicious
• this one is an effing genius with blog titles
• do you think corona tastes like water, too?

and his name is chair

i walked into work this morning and found that someone had furnished me with new furniture; a new place to rest my old sweet ass. and i love him so much in fact, that i'll hump him right now. i'm not kidding. for real. i said hump. we'll hump. now.

i'm here to tell you that i'm always up for surprises of this nature and caliber. yes, of course i miss old one. he and i were together for 6 years - i'm not heartless. we also didn't get to say a proper good-bye. normally i would be having closure issues at this point, but new one has maybe, i don't know...... only 43,000 different configuration options so that i may regularly indulge in corporate comfort. publicly. and at will.

have a look -



















um, i said look, hors. quit licking the gd screen. he's mine.

hi, is jesus there?

that title looks familiar because it is. i was just telling you a karaoke microphone story where jesus may or may not have been summons-d. i guess i was apparently calling him and he answered because he rang my doorbell at 9am this fine, rainy, cold, saturday morning. wtf jesus. don't effing do that. cold rainy saturday morning = sleep in. oh, but it wasn't a total loss. he left presents for me. and if he left them for me, clearly they will find a way to you.

here's what he left in my door. if you just glance at it right when you get up - prior to coffee, i think the woman and child are petting a monkey. is that normal and right behavior for 'woman and child'? i know, i know. they're human too and sometimes they need to pet a monkey.

if you inspect it more closely after coffee, i'm fairly certain it's a bear. which leads me to my next question; what in the world makes these two morons think they should be petting a bear? uh hey, jesus - could you tell your morons that bears can chomp their heads off and that they should stick to normal petting? you know, normal petting. like monkeys. petting monkeys is normal and fine.

gin headache

yes. it is back. i am here to tell you a tale; a tale of creative crafts for the poor. it's the good time you never knew you could have with mere pennies a day.

did you know that you can generate hours of entertainment in your family room and all with just a karaoke microphone securely affixed to your television? you can have a figurative brimming trunk of grandiose riches with just one small, simplistic piece of antiquated electronic technology - a microphone (cordless or otherwise).

it begins in my family room with me, microphone, and tv. oh yes, and drunk is present. but you knew that. so here's the deal folks, obtain any microphone and then plug it into one of your tv's ports. then, just talk. about everything. since you most likely have people and animals living in your homes, this will be 100x more interesting than it is for me. i'm basically just glorifying my discussions with myself and broadcasting them throughout the house via my tv speakers. and don't get me wrong when i say it will be 100x times more interesting for you. i just mean that it entertained me 100x more than whatever my pre-microphone state was and that you may actually find that it's 200x more interesting given the attendance at your places of residence. that's what i'm trying to say. discard 100x. make it 200x.

if only there were video... there is not. in addition to the karaoke revivals, these are some examples of commonly uttered phrases:

• thankyouverymuch
• i'm here all week
• you're beautiful
• I AM YOUR FATHER
• fix me a turkey pot pie...
• ...bitch
• i would just like to say... (very many things regarding absolutely nothing)
• hi, is jesus there?
• hi, this is jesus

amazing no? you'll be surprised and amused with what comes out of your mouth when there's a microphone in your hands. this was all retrieved in the thick of my morning gin headache. i had a tanqueray gin martini the other night and i awoke the next morning to headache ala gin (and several fond memories of karaoke mic). now the headache may be due to the lack of gin in my life until this year of 29. but then i think you could probably attribute it to the gin martini, the beer chaser, the second beer chaser chaser, and then the two bailey coffees nightcap that followed shortly thereafter. i don't know. jury's still out.

get mommy her breakfast wine

this is a note to let you know that i'm spent. all out of love. blocked. dead-ended. negatory-ied. 4th and 22. dry. niet. but don't you worry your pretty, pretty faces off, readers. i'll be back and better than ever after i begin exploring a few new horizons first thing tomorrow morning; namely spiced rum, dark rum, and tanqueray # 10 (and no, not together.). i'm not looking to die.

these are a few liquids of late whose finer points i have yet to experience. i'll leave you with this - there will be a host of spirited, toasty, lip-smacking, hot, buttered, wintery goodness in your blog future. stay tuned for my findings and wish me luck. this will literally be like fresh candy for you... if i may.

lower-casing your joint

you know what? i just had an epiphany. it could be because it's orthodox xmas or it could be because i'm sort of hammered seeing as it's sunday and drinking is what i do every time, time rolls around. i bet you thought this post was about pot. you're pretty effing sweet if you thought that.

so the epiphany; i make little post-it lists for items i need from the grocery store and also for the super important life things that i'd like to accomplish in life ('open Wine Bar' and 'get married'). as you're well aware, i stick to the little letters when i'm using my words. i got lazy one day and forced myself to just use all lower-casers, which actually turned into a bit of a chore because you have to re-program yourself and constantly correct it at first when using all lower-case letters. it wasn't easy, but i did it. and i did it for yous. my aunt says things like 'yous' and 'those effers. get me another shot of tequila.' she's the greatest american hero when it comes to family around the holidays doing shots of stuff whilst gathered around xmas trees and roaring fires.

i have this excellent new habit of never getting back around to the point. i was just adding something to my grocery list. it was Bailey's. Hess Select Wine is also on the list. what else is on the list you ask? Godiva White Chocolate Liqueur. do you see them? the big letters? i get formal and proper when it comes to my babys' names. if this isn't one of the neatest things you've ever heard in the last minute, you're still welcome to read here but maybe you should consider drinking more.

i can't be sure, but i *think* i'm in love with alcohol. and i do not wish to seek assistance. so if you're ever thinking to stage an intervention on my behalf, you just stop those presses and hold that big fancy red and yellow mickey mouse phone of yours. i'm all set over here with my children. we're just fine. the fact that i take pictures of them is normal and fine. i'm a good parent. i take pictures of my children. of course you agree. thank you.

desperately seeking sanity

i'm going to go all over the place in this one, but not in a gross way like i did early last week at my sister's house.

the saga begins with some people requesting that i spend 6 straight hours with them at work and then afterwards, i couldn't even spell my own names - like, not one of the five. at one point during the sober numbness, i thought that i might be on board with someone calling me out into the hallway to blow my head off. and i know you won't find any part of this to be surprising, but there were also several instances where i had in-depth daydreams involving vodka, spiced rum, margaritas, and then godiva's cappuccino liqueur - because frankly, i can't figure out what to do with it. if you've uncovered a use for that anomaly, please let me know. i just have one bit of advice there and it's that you stick to every other flavor of godiva liqueur. the cappuccino variety both tastes and smells like, well, ass - and i should know given my history with ass.

but the reason i was telling you about the 6 hour meeting to begin with was because i also made some really important declarations while i was there. firstly, i decided to give mr. clean magic erasers a second go 'round. i employed those jokers once and it was just not what i hoped it would be. HOWEVER, tonight's results were astounding and i'm confident that it's not just because i was a little drunk. those things are unreal. my guest bathroom had these "marks" on the wall from when big don was over on xmas. she was in that small room with 3 other people and i can only guess that they got *a little* carried away in there. there's no other logical explanation. i took that magical eraser into that battle zone tonight and together we worked miracles. those marks disappeared instantly and now it looks as though nothing ever happened on that poor wall. ah the wondrous technology of the new millennium. it's remarkable.

the other things that i can list as secondly are that i decided the professions of my unborn, un-conceived, non-existent children this afternoon as well. they will either be pharmacists or meteorologists when they grow up into their bitter drunken adult suits one day. i have recently been pondering the merits of these two careers and i think they're just what my family of the future ordered. we'd like to be somehow super-sized so meteorologists and pharmacists it is. we all know they will appreciate my running their lives until they're 30 (when they turn 40 and find that they like their lives). mama-dan knows best.

thirdly, meatball sandwiches are good. why i don't eat them every minute of every day excapes me. i know you know.

you can't see me now, but i'm wishing you were dead

it's time i shared something really personal with you. i know that you crave my private morsels so much that you require them in order to effectively live your life. having said that, i apologize for just making you consider my private morsels because that's almost inappropriate for this particular pg-13 rated blog entry. and also, for taking an eternity to disclose such information. here is a list of things you can hear when you sit at my desk:

• someone gross clipping their nails at work
• corporate lady hacking lung juice up onto me
• older contractor fellow thinking/smelling old
• an intern being far too young for me
• the riddler's cell phone. from another floor
• middle-aged vendor man with unusually loud, projected voice in a heated discussion regarding purdue football
• car alarms; gas-o-line-is-my-food. raid-io knobs!
• smokie-joes breathing freshly smoked cigarette onto me. mmmmm. yummy.
• nagging, aggressive, know-it-all monotoner cutting into my face like razor sharp icicles
• frantic typists
• angry foreign language phone yeller man, and woman
• a welcomed secret lovers ringtone from a few desks over
• someone with hughjungous kloppers approaching. i mean, you can hear this one walking in their giant shoes before they even know they're comin
• incessant clogged sinus fixer
• incessant coffee slurper
• incessant statement ending nervous laugher
• chronic germie with significant cough
• nerds
• the last bits of my soul slowly and painfully escaping, like when you drop live lobsters into boiling water and they begin to scream a deathly, high-pitched, mercy cry

ok. you can't actually hear that last part. you can only feel it and that's precisely why i took the day off. and it would "sound" like this if you could hear it:

vodka has never done me wrong

but i sure have been doing him wrong.

i was at work today after having been Pah-TOe for so long and couldn't manage to get my head back into the ever-so-interesting game. i was walking down the long hall with my secret lover doing what we do best; long, slow, coffee walks. oh, and publicly discussing alcohol. i mentioned that i had seriously considered introducing a semi-concealed flask to my workspace in 2007 and he mentioned that he thought i might seriously have a problem. and then we both shook our heads and agreed that it was his wife who actually had the problem because most people in the area tend to take their cues from her. so anyway, i described my classic dirty recipe and right away he reacted to it. i almost hate to admit this, but it contained far too much vermouth - for anyone's taste. i never quite understood the point of vermouth... but... wait for it.

in the summer months, i enjoy the vodka straight, over ice. it's light and it's refreshing. but seeing as it's winter, i flopped back over to the classic dirty. you know, to keep me warm. my recipe has traditionally been 2 parts vodka, 1 part vermouth, splash of olive brine, shake shake shake. now due to chop's reaction from the morning coffee run and my lack of interest in corporate _____, i spent *a little* time during the day researching classic martini recipes with our old friend. turns out, you only really want a splash of vermouth. say what? yes, willis. a splash. so steph's complaint about my strong martinis a couple weeks back was, well, weak. AND valid. i'll give you that one. my drinks usually straddle the strong side of the line because i kind of do have a problem and i don't fully comprehend when you prefer somethings in your tall, cool russians (thx, OKS). give me time. i'll learn.

a splash of vermouth. good. to. know. i raced home at the stroke of 4:45 because this corporate lady was operating under the assumption that i would be assisting her with corporate _____ around 5pm. uh yeah. no, mrs. lady. i won't. i then point a'd it for white-lightning. he greeted me with the leather smell that only he can do and we were on our way. it was glorius. after 50 minutes of heated seats, i was finally in my kitchen shaking up a masterpiece. you guessed right if you guessed splash of vermouth. it was THE MOST mouth-watering classic dirty i've ever had in my sad, meaningless existence.

i will furnish you with the new recipe if you're in the mood for something stiff and dirty. get your damn minds out of the gutter.

no wait. keep doing it. my teeth hurt.

here's to the new thing, getting rid of the old thing, and then something with a wine bar

'sup you guys. hope new year's eve 2007 was all you ever wanted in a new year's eve. mine was just what the doctor ordered; an extended dinner with the girls at one of the city's most perfect litte sinatra/buble/dino/sammy/martini clubs and then a champagne toast at the doc's place where steph made us put coins in our shoes and sharda made us stand and sit 12x for the new year, at precisely the new year. it was fun because it was leisurely, our waiter was a bitch, and i got to drink straight, stiff, dirty vodka.

below you'll find two pictures that i need for you to review. the first is basically just a shot of me at a table with the girls - who requested that i not display their faces on the internet even though you've probably seen at least one of these faces if you're a dude and you like porn (so obviously i covered their heads with dark boxes) - and in it, i appear to have a rack - because 2007 is definitely going to be my year. you see it right? the second is the tiny little flower arrangement at the restaurant. it was so tiny.

so... happy new year out there. like i said, this is the year for my 'new thing', getting rid of the 'old thing', and then for opening a wine bar. thanks for finally getting here, 2007. i think we all desperately needed you.














(seriously. there's no trick photography here. i was literally standing beside this thing.)