What can I say?

It's almost 1:30p and I just poured my THIRD cocktail.

Shameful?

Perhaps.

But it's really not my fault. See, I decided it was high time to clean my shower. I hate cleaning shower stalls. Seriously. I'll scrub 10 toilets before it dawns on me that I might be dying from the mold spores growing in my shower!

Where is an obsessive compulsive when you need one?!

So. Given the fact that I ignore the condition of my shower, it was the state of my toilet that was a clear indicator that I needed to spend some time in my bathroom with my friends: Rubber Gloves, Tilex & Scrubbing Bubbles!

Sexy.

So while my toilet was "soaking" in all things Lysol Cling, I decided: WTF. I'll clean the shower.

Insert me into the shower stall, flip flops on my feet; big wig piled on top of my head and a brand new bottle of Tilex in my rubber gloved hand.

Fast forward 2 minutes and I am GASPING for breath! Please view me, fat ass and all, staggering out of said shower; eyes watering & me screaming JESUS CHRIST, REALLY?!

Note to self: open your windows and turn on the bathroom exhaust fan PRIOR to the use of Tilex.

I headed to the kitchen immediately and poured myself a stiff cocktail.

Which I downed. Promptly.

I am now on my third and while while my sense of smell is still impaired; my vision has recovered nicely. With my third cocktail in hand, I am off to tackle another bathroom.

If my family is lucky, I will continue to drink, clean and serenade them all with my own cover version of my iPod Playlist on shuffle play!

Ping! Pong.

So in the middle of talking Kristin off the ledge last night, she asks me if I know where she can find a plunging, low back bra.

We went from private school, bullshit politics to bras in under 10seconds!

I used to spend a lot of my time saying WHAT THE FK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! to KB; to which she'd always reply: "Keep up, Babe!"; but I've grown accustomed to her Girl Interupted schtick. So I fired off: "Nordy's should have you covered. Fredricks of Hollywood? "

Her response? "I told Big Daddy when we were buying the new car last weekend, Lil Red is the only car that's ever made me HAPPY."

See how quick she does it? We are now going to talk about cars. Specifically our convertibles. For the record: I GOT MINE FIRST! The footnote to that statement would read: Kristin's Mercedes trumps my Boog. I'll spare you the play by play of our IM session as it literally reads like 2 chicks suffering from individual cases of ADD, one with a significantly more severe case than the other.

Politics, bras, cars, happy, SQUIRREL!

FFS.

As we are wrapping up our IM, Kristin asks: "When can I expect a new blog? I need something to laugh at." To which I say: "I've tried a few times....I can't find my rhythm. I need a topic that interests me or at the very least, something to really piss me off. The Globes are coming up.....you KNOW I'll find inspiration there!"

KB: Private school politics? Plunging, low back bras for girls over an A-cup?
Me: Pffffffffffffffffffffffffffft! Is there even such a thing as an A-cup? I call bullshit. A fkn myth, I'm telling you.

We end with X's & O's and Kristin telling me it's too fkn hard to type in the dark. While drunk.

Pretty sure I just found my start!