Boredom ensues...

Okay either I have nothing to say or no one is reading my blog because there is a serious absence of comments. Maybe it's a little bit of both. Either way I must remind myself that I created this blog as a journal for myself, and shall trudge on.
I am officially bored. I always used to absolutely dread waking up and going to work and wishing, willing that I could just be in the comforts of my apartment watching t.v., reading a book and drinking hot chocolate. Such is not the case. Now that I officially can not go to work, as my last day was last week, I am bored out of my mind! Knowing that Europe is so close is a slow and painful tortune on my brain. I want to read a book, but I have too much cleaning to do. I want to go shop, but I have already spent way too much money and have enough clothes already that I am procrastinating packing. I want to go to the movies, but there is nothing I want to see. Elusive roommate has been in San Diego since Saturday and since Elusive Boyfriend works the "9-5," I am left to my devices.
On tomorrows agenda, clean apartment, seriously pack my clothes in their respected suit cases, and go to dinner at friend's parents house. Thursday: Go to lunch with High School Water Polo coach. Friday: Spend time with Mom's dad. Saturday: Spend time with Dad's mom. Sunday: SUPERBOWL. Monday: Say last goodbyes and head out for LAX, only to sit and twindle my anticipatory thumbs dutifully.
Just as quickly as my boredom ensues, as does my excitement mount. Right now, Elusive Boyfriend has arrived and we have to move a bed and a couch to my Papa's.

The Countdown Continues

T-Minus One Week until Wanton Hussy and Elusive Roommate depart for the much anticipated, long awaited, highly provocative "Trip de Europe." It amazes me how quickly a list can dwindle to a few necessities. Today I took care of my bank information, went to the Doctors, began my exorbitant amount of laundry, "fake baked," and did just a little more packing. Our last day in our apartment is Wednesday, so the packing part can simmer on the back burner a little longer.
I haven't gone to a tanning salon since high school, when I had such bad tan lines from swimming that I had to do something about it before I slipped on a formal dress. But I was ordered by Elusive Roommate's Fahh-jah (Father) that I could not arrive in Germany looking pasty. He will be there for a week while we are for German Carnival and is tanning his winter bleached skin as well. I guess it's a running joke that he is the darkest one there and says it's because he lives in California, which he does. And if I show up, not looking like a bronzed beach babe, I will "blow his cover."
Tanning's expensive. I had no idea how much it cost to be given a malignant skin cancer. $14 a pop! The longest you can go is 20 minutes, but since I am looking quite pasty, I was only allowed 12. So I paid my $28 for two sessions, and told them we'll see how it goes. I couldn't justify the $50 for 5 session special. I better come out 15 lbs lighter if I'm payin' $50 in January when no one is even going to see my tummy or thighs until June.
Whelp, time to start dinner. I have made a personal pact with my refrigerator and pantry that I do not go out and spend money on food until I have finished the majority of items, at least the expensive ones. On tonight's menu: Teriyaki Chicken with Stir Fry Broccoli and Bell Peppers. Yum - oh! Oh, how I hate Rachal Ray.

I don't even know where to start...

Why is it the older I get the more I realize how truly messed up human nature is?

Case in point. My neighbor was killed in a car crash on Halloween. 18 year old female. Extremely tragic incident. She was going over 100 in a Porche after getting into a fight with her parents. I was informed today that pictures of her accident, the car and her, seeped out to the World Wide Web. One of the CHP officers, apparently, took the pictures claiming they were of the crime scene. The CHP officer gave to pictures to a friend, who is guilty of spreading the pictures. The pictures are now everywhere and can be easily accessible if you search. I have NO desire to search from them. A neighbor girl became curious, looked at them and is now seeking counseling. Another woman saw them and almost vomited. They are extremely graphic as the young girl's skull was completely crushed and her hair was missing.

The family, in their most serious time of grief, are now having to deal with hate emails being sent to them, and are being accused of "deserving it" for "giving their daughter a Porsche." When in reality the Porsche was not hers and her excessive speed was due to a fight. The family is also having to deal with closing down the sights which display the pictures, costing them upwards of $250,000.

When I heard this today, I was sickened. Sickened that people could be so heartless, cruel, vulgar and malicious. Sickened that I too have either read of someone's trials, seen pictures of a gruesome image or heard of an individuals plight and have reacted coldly. I am in awe that people could have such blinders on, to not either put themselves in someone else's shoes, other than that of their own.

It reminded me of when my roommate was in her accident. There was a man standing on the corner taking pictures with a camera. It was 1:30 in the morning on PCH. He was the only thing that I could focus on. All my anger I was experiencing from what had just happened funneled into him. I cursed him and told him to "put away his f*&^ing camera." I was livid. I can remember seeing red and thinking that if only the cops weren't there what I would do to him. I wanted to punch him in the face. In is voyeuristic, sad, old face. My boyfriend held me back. He knows I have remarkable self control, but was also aware that I had just experience the most traumatic incident known to date.

After I passed being angry, I was confused. Why was he taking pictures? Did he think we were someone famous? Did he want to look at these pictures later? Did he think he was being helpful for an investigation later? What were his motives? Similar to the CHP who passed around the car accident pictures. Why? Boasting rights? Curiosity? Sadness? Sympathy?

Also, in all of it's perks, how destructive is the Internet? Spreading pictures of someones tragedies for others to view and remark, "I'm glad that's not me." How trite. How childish. How pathetic that we derive our self-satisfaction from the devastation of others. How we could compare our happiness to that of others remorse. Sure we can chat with loved ones, get ahead in our job and view all the items that we don't possess and really need. But, deep down, I wish we were back to the days of individuality. Every man is a island times. Sure I wouldn't be able to talk about myself on a daily basis and have it be "okay." But I would give my left arm if it meant my neighbors didn't have to experience what they are.

Back to the days, when we had to write letters, make phone calls, hear each others voices, leave voice messages at someones house *gasp*. Things may have been a lot more complicated, a lot less instantaneous, but at least things that were meant to remain in the darkest confines of our imagination stayed there.

Sometimes I Act Like Such a Bitch...

No seriously. And guess who gets the brunt of it. My boyfriend. I can't explain it. I just have been. Fortunately, boyfriend knows of my needs that must be met to keep me the sweet, pleasant, personable, pretty girlfriend he fell in love with four years ago. These needs include, in no particular order; food and sleep. When either one of these necessities of human nature are absent the wrath, of the Wanton Hussy is released from the bowels of the earth.

However, yesterday, I was being the BIGGEST bitch. I don't even know where it came from. I woke up. Good mood. Did a little packing. Good mood. Head off to meet boyfriend for church and surprise, surprise I woke him up with my phone call that morning. This means that there will be no coffee prior to church as I had no cash and the only coffee on the way is cash only. This also means, Wanton Hussy - coffee + having to inform boyfriend that I am on my way over = Unhappy Hussy.

Okay, make it through church thinking about what I will order afterwards. 11 a.m. and food is in the horizon. We head to a local sports bar for some lunch/beer/football. I know. Beer at 11:30, after church doesn't sit well for some people. But I am not some people. I order my beer and my club sandwich. One of my pastimes includes sampling the finest club sandwiches this side of the Miss Issip.

I drink my Fat Tire, gorging myself on my club and enjoying the football pre-game. Go Saints. Go Bush. Reggie that is. Our friends arrive and then the ordering of the Miller Lite Bucket, 6 for $10, begins. I drink and laugh and cheer and root and am that totally obnoxious girl in the bar full of middle age men. Enter bliss.

A friend that joins us informs me that the last time him and my boyfriend went backpacking together, my handsome, strong, tough boyfriend was complaining on the 10 mile hike out and that the hike had "kicked his butt." I begin to die laughing. The thought of my boyfriend being human and not acting like the hyper-masculine testosterone beast, humored me. The way these events get described to me are nothing short of the cover of a trashy romance novel. Strapping young men, living off the fruits of nature, skinny dipping in hot springs at the base of a mountain. Okay, so it sounds more like a gay trashy romance novel, but either way, I'm amused.

Point of the Story: I made a huge deal out of the difference between the stories I am told of camping days past vs. the stories I am not told. What I am left with is a pissed off, embarrassed boyfriend. Angry at me for making a deal and angry at the buddy, who he apparently got into camping in the first place, for relaying to his girlfriend, at an earlier time, and me. Rightfully so, I must add.

Moral of the Story: Don't drink too many Miller Lites because all rational thoughts, words, emotions, attitudes sail past you. Similar to the chance at a Super Bowl Championship for BOTH teams I was rooting for yesterday. Oh, Pats. Why do you have to be so cruel? So cruel.

Oh and by the way, I don't want to act like a bitch. In fact, tonight I made the best chicken tacos as the most sincerest form of apology. Hate to say it. But I think I am officially a woman. I keep having these randoms episodes of crazy, irrational female for no valid reason. None. I just act like it. Don't even know where it comes from. Like Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. Only in my case, it's Dr. Emotional and Ms. Hussy. Apparently, the influx of hormones has also stripped me of my rapist wit. I'll try harder.

Sometimes I Like To Go On a Hiatus...

First of all, that word does not get used enough. "Hiatus." Second of all, much has happened in "The World According to Wanton Hussy," since I last formally blogged.

It seems like just yesterday, I was dyeing my already fried hair, an obnoxious shade of red, eager to begin "Halloween weekend" as a single, frivolous, secure 23 year old. Oh, what a different three months make.

I will try to make this brief...

Halloween weekend came and left in a torrent of drunken debauchery. Friday night = Pirate Wench costume, Cover band concert, Back stage at cover band concert and crazy shenanigans. Saturday = BEST DAY EVER. Bodysurfing that is. The water was the warmest I had ever felt it. It was as clear as Hawaii. And I swam with dolphins. The spooked me at first when I opened my eyes underwater and a pod of three were only a few yards away. I was even fortunate enough to bear witness to the sweet swan song of their sonar hummings. I SWEAR to you, I heard their clicks and high pitched squeals. Simply put, "amazing." I was in the water for around two hours. Hangover Cure 101.

Then it was time to head home for a quick costume change into my 1950's Desperate Housewife get up. Tart, please give me the basics of uploading pics, so that my much anticipated pic montage can follow. We went to a bar at Redondo pier, continued to drink and dance the night away. Good times.

Sidenote: Me and my long time "on again, off again" boyfriend, are now "on again." I know, I know. But Wanton Hussy, aren't you leaving for Europe? Why did you get back together in November when you knew you were leaving? What are you going to do? Are you really going to stay in a relationship thereby not cheating on him? What were you thinking?

Me: I know what I want and have found it and am perfectly content. I have no wantings to stray for a insignificant fling. We have taken time apart, grown up a little, and realized that what we had all along is what we wanted, but it just needed a little fostering. I adore him and he to me. Oh, and Tart likes him too. Which is basically my number one priority when seriously considering a mate.

Okay, quick recap, I have a boyfriend and Halloween was fun. Fast forward a few weeks to mid-November. My boyfriends' friends from out of town come to visit and stay with me for the weekend for a "Welcome to the 'O.C.' bitch" weekend. Fun times ensued. Saturday night crossing the street elusive roommate and out of town guest are hit by a drunk driver in a Dodge Durango doing 40. Roommate down, I'm in shock, first-time therapy sessions for self-proscribed "P.T.S.D.," yadda yadda yadda.

Is roommate better? What about Europe? Are you still going? Can she make it?

Yes. Europe is still there. We are still going. She has a made a full and speedy recover. Christmas comes and goes. New Years as well. I have been through the full gamut of emotions with my long awaited, much anticipated Trip de Europe. Anxious, sad, happy, elated, scared, angry, you name it.

But, point being, it is finally here. Two weeks from tomorrow. I will definitely make it a point to write, blog, post pics because "it will make a great keepsake." Boyfriend is of course cool with it, being that this whole thing was planned during an "off again" stage. He hates me saying that we were "on again, off again" out of fear of looking young and immature, but the truth is, we needed it. It was crucial so that I may cut the invisible umbilical chord attached to my mom and so that he would prove himself to me that he can actually do what he has always been saying he would. Which is be completely successful in the business world.

All in all, I will not be boring you with my dating quos anymore, but will be completely focused on seeing all that Europe has in store for me. Again, if you have any suggestions as to where to eat/sleep/party/visit in various cities, as it is my goal to see all of Western Europe, please let me know. Until then, Ciao Bella.

And that's only because that's all I know how to say.

Is anyone there?

Okay, I know, I know. Bad Wanton Hussy for not blogging in almost three months. But, I've been really busy. I know, I know. Not an excuse. Okay so I will start again because 1) I miss it, 2) I am disillusioned enough to think that people really care and 3) Everyone says I should because it will be a great keepsake from my European adventure.