Um, helloooo, MIA much?

My weekend was friggin awesome, it started Thursday afternoon and is just ending now. We were in Tahoe visiting the Teebs’ family. They’re really fun and I mentioned how I wish hanging out with my mom was as unstressful. OHMYGOD how fucking terrible is that? It was terrible when I just thought it but actually verbalizing and committing the sentiment to the internet seems somehow worse. But also kinda good. I hope other people feel the same way.

Speaking of stressful moms, my shame was lessened when I realized that it’s not all fun and sunshine for TBU and his brothers when it comes to their mom, either. We tried to go out to lunch with her, she had a lot of conditions to be met though. The main one being that we had to eat on the water. We couldn’t just eat a tasty lunch in a convenient location, no we had to eat somewhere overpriced with a view. So we did. Do not eat at Jakes. Now, I know why TBU puts up with all my ridiculous demands in stride.

But let’s get onto the good stuff. We got to the cabin Saturday night in time for dinner, while everyone ate their chicken soup, I ate my specially prepared veggie soup thanks to Mama TBU. I was so grateful. Especially after last weeks staff meeting where everyone but me got a free lunch because bossman forgot about my vegetarian meal. I’m glad he remembered the two other special orders though, that made me feel real good. And fuck no, I do not want chips and/or bite size kitkats for lunch.

OK, trying to reign it in. We were talking about good stuff, no? I mean, the weekend was awesome, so there. My favorite place to eat in Tahoe is El Sancho, go there, get the breakfast burrito with avocado and thank me later. I hesitate to put that Yelp link in because there are only 5 reviews (soon to be 6!) but it’s got the address and phone number. Seriously just go to Tahoe for the best breakfast burrito of your life. We did, and we took it across the street and ate on the water because Mama TBU was with us.

The gambling was not so fruitful, save for the momentary excitement we all felt while playing the Big Spin and the needle got this close to the $1000 slice of pie. We rode that wave clear through this morning. Otherwise, Chris the blackjack dealer took our monies and got TBUs mom all in a huff when he hit on me.

Oh yeah and there’s a hot tub. Which is such a frickin luxury on a cool night after casino cocktails. Of course, the brothers TBU cannot be bothered to pack water attire. TBU can barely be bothered to pack. Anyone who has seen him away from home overnight can attest that his luggage is a Trader Joe’s bag, double bagged if it’s more than one night. So when TBUs naked brother started to massage my back with his feet I had to draw the line. It’s not the first time I’ve been the only clothed one, either. They don’t even realize they’re naked, they walk around with their skinny, straight line alien bodies in complete comfort. It’s almost admirable and at this point I barely notice it.

On the way back we stopped at the jelly belly factory in Fairfield. We wanted to go again to get samples and see the rainbow-y production line but we almost left after seeing all the mccock/pitbull signs in the parking lot. These weren’t lawn signs for the uncommitted, these were almost billboard size for the truly committed asshole/billionaire. As we walked in we wished we had Obama shirts but settled for all the free goodies we could get. Once during the tour we got stuck behind two old ladies with too much perfume. By the end, I learned to follow the Japanese woman to stay ahead of the crowd and have a pleasant breathing environment. Those are a people at the front of the line. So my point is don’t buy jelly belly jelly beans unless… well I would hope you wouldn’t want to, especially if you have a uterus and enjoy higher learning. (Fruit flies are incredibly important to science, man. They share 98% of our DNA and most of the medical advances we benefit from are a result of fruit fly testing at some point in the research and development process. Yes, even Down’s Syndrome studies you fucking fuck.)

Whoa. I really can’t help myself at this point though. What do we have, like 9 days? I may lose my mind and start throwing poop. The sheer amount of things I want to say about this election is precisely what has prevented me from posting the last few weeks. It’s too much. I literally can start crying at the thought of either candidate winning, for different reasons. Do I believe Barack is our messiah? No, but I believe in him. I honestly do, and if, on November 4th, I am cheering instead of throwing up I will know that I’ll undoubtedly be disappointed in him at several points during his administration. But those are disappointments I’m willing to accept considering the alternative.

The Millionizer also reminds us Californians to VOTE NO ON PROP 8*

*godammit, do I really have to say that? I don’t see how a couple of homos ruins your marriage. Get over yourselves you weird ass religious freaks. And the next pair of mormons at my door has an earful coming, and a couple cold glasses of water. It gets hot out there.

How I saved a child from certain pedophilia. Remember when I worked with Student and those other crazy characters? Remember the crazy mom, this one, the one who pushed me? Ok, her daughter is fucked. She’s got severe autism and some crazy ass behavioral disorder that makes her movie scary. Beyond her disability there is something wrong with this girl on a spiritual level. She refused to wear underwear and keeping her pants on is like dealing with North Korea. Her mom tried to compromise and send her to school in a skirt. That lasted all of 35 minutes because no underwear wearing devil child would spread her legs and insert items INTO HER VAGINA. Mostly her own fingers but holy shit right? She would tell her aide that she was going to break into her house and kill her dog, she had already killed her own dog. Her voice is like someone trying to breathe in while their throat is swelling shut. Audio producers would love the secret so they could use it in Saw18. She looks like a small, freckled Frodo, same haircut but less shaggy.

Back when I was sick a couple weeks ago, I was studying for a chemistry test. I was wearing jeans with the button undone because any pressure on my stomach was so painful I couldn’t breathe. I hear a knock on my neighbors door, I hear them talking and the whole while, the person is jiggling my doorknob. I’m like FUCK can’t she control her guests? But my neighbor goes back in and the assault on my door continues in earnest. I decide to ignore it until they stop because I am sick, studying and too short to see out the peephole. It doesn’t stop, so I get the stool from the bathroom to assess the situation and tell whoever it is to shut the fuck up. I look out and all I can see is some small, boyish child flailing about maniacally on and around my door. I swing it open angrily and freeze. She looks at me and stops, her big eyes look up at me and her small, spindly arm raises to point a finger as she squeaks, “Yooooou…” the way death might greet you if it were a small, evil child.

“What are you doing here, Michelle?” I said in a tone used for exorcisms. She began to flail again, I was reminded that she was just a 76 lb retarded child and the tension eased.

“I’m here to see your house.” Eep!

“No Michelle, is your mom with you?”

Her eyes got big for emphasis. “No, she’s dead and I ran away,” as she freakily breathes in with each word. Then she put her hand down her pants and laughed with her head thrown back.

I tell her to go home and close the door. I called TBU and told him what happened. He paused for a second and said, “Shouldn’t you go check on her or call he police or something?” Uh, probably. Now, in my defense I was seriously sick at the time and I was trying to concentrate on my chemistry test that was 4 hours away and more importantly, she is fucking scary.

So I go back out and find her throwing her body against another neighbors door with her pants around her ankles and, of course, no underwear. I grab her hand and pull her pants up hoping no one sees me. She wiggles away and her pants shimmy down her legs as she screams in the parking lot, jumping and waving her twig arms. I lumber behind her, pinning her arms to her sides with one arm as the other pulls her pants back up, really, really hoping no one sees me. She screams and rants nonsensically as she thrusts her butt into my stomach. Itispainful.

I forced her into my car and she thrashed against the seatbelt, yelling at her dead mom. I am close to tears from the pain. Her house is only two blocks from mine and as I turn the corner to her street, it is blocked off by half of the Santa Cruz police department. I roll up, get out and scream, “I have her!” Her mom ran over and PUSHED me AGAIN! and opened my passenger door. An officer looks at my stomach and I look down to see my unbuttoned jeans. He asked me how I know Michelle and how I know where she lives. I answer and he nods, satisfied.

Meanwhile, mom hasn’t gotten crazy child out of my car. She’s just yelling at her and asking where she went. I wait patiently for a few minutes but goddammit I need to study and writhe in pain before my test. Finally I mention that I have to go and mom whips her head around and gives me an evil eye. How dare I interrupt her futile investigation of her devil seed. She yanks Michelle out and glares at me. I start walking to the drivers side, the officers thank me and tell me to have a good day. Mom? Well mom is a crazy ass motherfucker and doesn’t say a word to me. She’s probably pissed I brought her back. No ‘Thank you’ just sighs and huffs. Of course her daughter is the way she is, I think mom is just yet to be diagnosed.

I don’t think Michelle knows where I live, I think she just started meandering around and I happened to be in the radius of her flail. Thank god.

And that is how I saved a small child from the clutches of a pedophile. I mean, I assume she would have encountered some kook eventually, who would interpret her hate of clothing as a sign from the pedo god.

PS One more thing about crazy mom. She told me that she was the landscape architect for a super posh restaurant in town with absolutely beautiful landscaping. I was impressed. For like a second. Teebs and I went there for his work’s Christmas party and I asked the maître d’ who the landscape architect was. You know, out of curiosity. He told me, and it was not crazy mom.

Teebs is sick and busy sleeping. So I can’t yell at him for leaving root beer gummies at the bottom of the coffee mug for two weeks. I’ve grown tired of yelping. What’s a girl to do? Blog. And eat an entire piece of lavash bread and almost a whole container of garlic hummus. Trader Joe’s, you’ve foiled me again.

X is for sure coming down next weekend. What will we do? Probably a lot of nothing and a little bit of everything.

How about those fuckers who cut you off at the last second and then go slow enough to turn back time. What’s up with them? I mean, if you’re crazy enough to almost die coming out of a parking lot, surely you have it in you to speed it up by 10 or 15 mph. Are they the same ones who merge onto the freeway at 35mph? That’s just dangerous for everyone involved. And it’s always a minivan or a 1978 cadillac.

A while back, my aunt told me that she uses an epilator instead of shaving. I was fascinated by the whole thing. It’s the effect of waxing with the convenience of shaving, sorta. I was like, Hey, now that’s an idea. It’s also kind of an engineering feat. It’s a hundred mechanical tweezers plucking your body hair out in a delicate dance. So I bought one. And holy christ you guys. It manages to include two of my favorite things, hair removal and pain. I tried it on my armpit and immediately teared up. This thing is hardcore. I called my aunt and she said she doesn’t even notice the pain anymore. ?!?! Apparently, after a couple times it stops hurting so bad. It might take more than a couple episodes. In fact, I don’t know if I’m hardcore enough. My aunt though, she is hardcore.

The Millionizer is off to think positive thoughts and drink some water from a glass