The New "I Love You"

I absolutely love my Dad, and this is why. I mean, not only has he been toting my ass to work, doctor's offices and hospitals, but he has been doing it all whilst playing the Shaft theme song. Don't you wish you had a father as cool as mine? Yah daaaaaaammmnnn right yah wish yah did...

This blog entry has absolutely nothing to do with Shaft. My apologies.

My adventures into vegan-ism have forced me to come to terms with a lot of things, one of them being what I will accept as a proper replacement for meat in my life. Mashed-Up, Flavored Black Beans suddenly become the new "Burger;" Seitan Cubes morph into "Beef Tips." Although nothing will truly ever replicate the divine texture of a Jimmy Johns Beach Club, I have found tasty alternatives that I can settle for, and have even come to enjoy.

Lack of sleep and an empty stomach got me relating this to an issue I see my girl friends chatting me up about recently; accepting menial acts from men as real signs that they care. Call me old fashioned, but since when does a man banging you while you have your period show that he is really interested in you?! I see that as he just really wants to get laid, but someone seemed to be under the impression that it meant, "he only wanted to be with me, so it didn't matter that it was, 'that time of the month.' " Often times I am told that I am too cynical when it comes to relationships, but I think that girls are just too blind to the obvious. Perhaps it comes from the fact that most of my friends are guys, so I hear the other side of things all too often. I also see too many beautiful, smart girls chasing after men who blatantly don't want them because they accept the following examples as the new, "I Love You:"

(Yes, these are actually things I have heard my friends say guys have told them, or my guy friends have told girls.)

"I want to keep our relationship a secret because what we have is special and I don't want anyone to ruin it."
- Translation: "I don't want my real girlfriend to find out I'm sleeping with you."

"We shouldn't kiss because I don't want you to get emotionally attached."
- He can hit it from the back, but won't kiss you on the lips? He isn't concerned for YOUR emotions; he just doesn't want you turning psycho when you find out you're not the only girl he's not kissing.

"You would make a cute pregnant woman"
- It's just an excuse to not, "wrap it up." Usually this is followed up with the loving expression, "Hold still; I'll get a towel."

"You look like Megan Fox"
- Just because he has always fantasized about hooking up with a celebrity doesn't mean he wants a Happily Ever After with you.

Not that I am innocent of ever falling victim to holding onto the slight hope that a boy I like may perhaps like me back (circle one- yes or no), but I can look at a Boca Burger and know its not a Cheeseburger, so when will we realize that "I Want You" is not "I Love You?"

Tips to Landing a Date During a Car Accident

I was going to write a lengthy post about almost getting killed again by another reckless driver, but then I remembered that whining and crying is for babies, and I stopped wearing pull-ups WEEKS ago. Instead of being angry and upset that I am left car-less and incapacitated, I would like to thank this brainless lady driver for giving me an amazing opportunity to do what I do best: make light of a bad situation.

All of this vehicular tom-foolery has caused me to spend a lot of time in one of life's most happening environments; the emergency room. Often times people see these places as very unfriendly, and quite frankly, scary. Me? I see it as a mecca filled with gorgeous men! Paralegals, Firemen, Doctors, Nurses... hot dudes EVERYWHERE!

So shake that broken glass out of your hair and find that missing tooth, because I am about to share with you my tips for walking away from a car wreck with a few phone numbers (and I ain't talkin' for insurance companies!)

1. Turn on the water works
Nothing looks more appealing to a man in uniform than when your running mascara and snot inter-mingle with the blood and airbag dust on your face

2. Blurt out the cheesy pick-up lines
"Why do you need my ID? Because you want to come over and nurse me back to health?" "Remember that name so you can facebook me later." Or the old stand-by "I love a man in uniform." If it doesn't work, you can always claim you had a mild concussion

3. Airbag dust is your friend
Its like an instant makeup touch-up! Now Officer Dreamboat won't even notice that giant zit on your chin

4. Show 'em the goods
I was wearing a short dress and high-heels when I was in my last car wreck, and I had to be "delicately" shimmied sideways out of the car and onto a board... by about five different men. I made a mild attempt to keep my dress from flying up, but it was pretty much impossible. So hey, why not take the opportunity to show these studs my awesome fire truck print, boy-brief cut underwear?! Believe me, blatantly laughing at you is the new sexy

5. Rock that collar
I make sure to carry stickers in my purse just for this situation! Hey, they probably suit at least 10 people with these a day; I might as well add some flair to mine!

6. Make Small Talk
Never underestimate the power of the statement, "So, we all know how my day is going; what about yours?"

7. Create a Wardrobe Malfunction
Hey, it's not your fault hospital gowns are sooooo confusing to lace-up

8. Show off pictures of your cat
Maybe they'll be really into it. If not, you can use the concussion excuse again

9. Take Advantage of the Whiteboard
Write down a witty joke or an inspirational quote. If you can't think of anything, check our purse; odds are that you probably have a Laffy Taffy wrapper or a crappy fortune cookie proverb in there somewhere you can use. Just don't be lame and write down you're phone number, because it's obviously displayed on that trendy plastic bracelet draped across your wrist.

10. Keep insisting you need mouth-to-mouth
This one is pretty self explanatory.

Well, there you have it. If by a slim chance any of these tips actually lead to a post car-crash romance, let me know!

If not, you can always blame it on the Vicodin

Rule #4- Remember: We are the Same Blood

Ah, Las Vegas; a city full of mystery, opulence and booze-filled decisions.

This past weekend, three of my girlfriends and I decided to turn the Vegas Strip into our stiletto-clad stomping grounds. For me, it would be my first experience in Sin City sans alcohol, which I knew wasn't going to be easy. Unfortunately, it turned out to be more uncomfortable then showing up to a baby shower with a box full of wire hangers.

In Milwaukee, I usually have at least one companion with me who has also joined my "SOB MKE" bandwagon. (Sober Milwaukee; Get Into It.) A thousand miles away at Jet nightclub, the only sober companion I seem to have found amongst the sea of bare skin and Jersey Shore hopefuls is my trusty iPhone. So, there I sat with him, chatting away about current events via Twitter, Facebook, Text, etc. while still intermittently talking and dancing with my friends. It is obvious to me that it irritates them to see me on an intimate date with my Smartphone, but they really have no idea of how difficult it is for me to be in a nightclub and not be on an alcohol buzz. Its kind of like being the new kid at school who barely knows English; you try your best, but you are unsure of how to communicate in unfamiliar territory, and everyone around you assumes you're either arrogant or mildly retarded. In addition to this slight social awkwardness, a side-effect of Topomax I have been fighting with is it's negative effects on my personality. When once I was extremely outgoing, I am now more subdued, and getting progressively more withdrawn and even bitchy. I hate it, and I keep telling myself its all in my head and to fight it, but this mental battle is getting so very exhausting.

Anyways, while I was in the midst of a very important tweet-sesh at Jet, a very inoxicated young man leaned in close to me and said, "Hey, when are you going to stop being such a fucking bitch and talk to my friends?" Slightly taken aback, but still composed, I told him I was talking to his friends, and if he would have taken a second to stop dry-humping my friend, he would have noticed. He proceeded analyze my appearance, and give me his opinion on what kind of person I am, which ultimately ended with him calling me a, "gold digging cunt who had better at least dance, if not fuck one of his friends." Now, I am a rational girl, and it takes a lot to get to me. Want to call me names? Go for it! Feel like questioning my work ethic? Better check yourself, buddy. I work hard for what I have, and I let him know he more than crossed the line by delivering what was the ultimate slap/karate-chop right to his kisser. His eyes instantly welled up, and his lip started quivering as he tried to form some kind of statement. I wasn't even going to wait to hear what genius he had to say next, and stormed off to find my friends.

About twenty minutes later, I was still at Jet nightclub, at the same table with the same group of ahhh-mazing gentlemen (sarcasm) and I started to actually feel bad for cracking Captain Dirtbag in the face. I mean, he obviously said some ridiculous stuff, but he is still a human being like me; he has blood in his veins and well, feelings. As I sat back and surveyed the club, I just thought of everyone as an individual. We are so quick to dismiss everyone as a douche-bag, drunk, trash, slut, etc. Maybe this jerk-off really just wanted to say hi to me, and somehow just stumbled over his words until they turned into a giant insult snowball that he couldn't keep from rolling off of his tongue. So, I went over and I apologized to him. Guess what? I was right. I mean, this guy was far from Prince Charming, but I did end up talking to him for a little while, and he gave me one of the better drunk compliments I have received:

"You know, I would rather sit and talk to you, then hook up with that girl who was grinding on me all night."

I laughed, and said, "This is Las Vegas; chances are you're not going to find your soul mate, so you're better off charming the panties off of Miss Leg Humper. Just remember that she has the same blood in her veins."

He high-fived me, grabbed the Patron and his broad, and probably got laid.

10 Things That Will Annoy Everyone Around You at a Baseball Game

Meet my friend Kristi; lover of people, eggs and animals (and obviously, said animals return her boundless affection.)

Yesterday, along with our friends Russ and Linda, Kristi and I attended a baseball game. We took our seats, and prepared for the Phillies to embarrass the crap out of the Brewers. (Sorry! I LOVE the Brewers, but let's face it; we knew we were going to get our asses served to us.) Linda has been hauling-ass at work lately, so as a reward, she was given these stellar tickets thirteen rows up from the first baseline. I checked in on foursquare (oooh, Player Please! badge) and focused in on the game. But once the first pitch was thrown, my dear Kristi began to commit one stadium faux pas after another. I tried to be subtle in my hints and halt her bad ballgame behavior before the 6th inning Sausage Races, but it was to no avail.

Don't get me wrong, I love and adore my friend; her understanding for humanity knows no bounds, but there are some things that will really annoy the bajeezus out of everyone around you at a baseball game, and they are as follows:

1. Talk About Your Bush
Unless it's Dave Bush, no one cares to hear about it

2. Obscure The View While You Talk To Your Friends
No one is denying the fact that you are a lovely girl, but I paid good money to stare at Prince Fielder's fat ass, so please sit yours DOWN!

3. Ask Your Friend "Is That The One You Banged?!" Every Time a New Player in the Batting Order is Displayed
We have been through the Phillies' batting lineup four times, and your friend has yet to admit which of these fine men she has had adult relations with, so I doubt she will suddenly let on to it now.

4. Answer Cellphone Calls
If you absolutely need to answer a call, go in the commons area. I go to baseball games to get away from hearing my mother's voice, and now I have to hear yours screeching through the receiver on your pink LG GlitterLightGlamBox

5. Discuss Your Bowel Movements
Girls don't poop. They especially don't poop at baseball games. Stop ruining everything I hold sacred int he world!

6. Yell Personal Comments at the Players
"Hey Braun, What Color Lipgloss Are You Wearing?" is only appropriate if he is doing a terrible job at bat, and if it is being barked out by a burly man in a "Cuck the Fubs" t-shirt, not a young lady who is screaming it as a legitimate question.

7. Ask the People Around You if They Want to See Pictures of Your Cats
...no.

8. Wave at Your Friend Across the Stadium
"But She Can See Me!" Maybe she can see you, but so can the people behind you, to the side of you, and alllllll around you who are trying to watch a baseball game.

9. Complain About How Bad You Have to Pee
Stop talking about it and just GO already! While you're at it, get that damn ice cream and pretzel you keep carrying on about, too!

10. Hit On People
If I came here looking for a date, I would have showered.


Now, Play Ball.

Rule #3- Mnemonic Devices

Practicing Rule #2 while getting the tattoo on my foot finished, which is notable because there has not been a time in the past three years where I have not shown up to a tattoo appointment with a box of franzia. Hey, not sure if you know this, but someone grinding on your skin with an array of sharp objects feels slightly uncomfortable. Somehow I managed to survive, and I think I deserve a high-five, gold star and a funfetti cupcake.

(Allow me a moment to get emo)
I absolutely feel like I am losing myself. Actually, to be completely honest, I don't feel anything. Where before I felt depressed, lonely and cynical, I now just... exist. My friends all depend on me to be the leader; the strong, independent, deviant, funny girl. Who am I now? I sat down with a yellow pad of paper and a pencil and tried to make a list of things that made Leah unique from everyone else, and my mind struggled to piece together anything.

I wanted to cry, but there was no will to do so. I'm just like an empty shell going through the motions of life with no feeling behind it.

Seriously, if this is YOUR fault, Topomax, shame on you; I hate being like this.

If there is one thing that I can remember, it is that, "In 1492 Columbus sailed the ocean blue."

Maybe somehow I can create a Mnemonic way of remembering all of my personality traits so that this chemical does not completely destroy everything that I am?

Rule #2- SBC (Sober by Choice)

Every spring, there is one event I anticipate more than free ice cream day at Ben & Jerrys(blasphemy); Brewer's Opening Day at Miller Park.

"But Leah, you don't even like baseball!" Correct. But I love that Milwaukee celebrates a mediocre baseball team because they are a great excuse to make jello shots and practice multiple forms of douche-baggery. Just because you don't believe in the Easter Bunny doesn't mean you stop giving stuff up for no-good reason for a month, right? I digress.

Much to my dismay, my good times with Strongbow were cut-short when my least favorite un-invited guest showed up; a migraine. The game had barely started, but I was already at my home in the basement, crying in pain with a bag of ice strapped to my head. Land of the free my butt. I hope Ryan Braun still got that box of kittens I had scheduled to be delivered to him during the seventh inning.

So, continuing with my efforts to control these monsters in my brain, I bring you Rule #2: SBC (Sober By Choice). For about a month now, I have not consumed any alcohol, and I gotta say, I really don't miss it. Somehow, it feels REALLY AWESOME to wake up refreshed in the morning, and to be sober enough to be the one laughing at the guy in the Affliction shirt air-humping the bejeezus out of his second cousin at the bar.

"Hey babe, want to feel my tricep?"
"No, but want to feel my left testicle? Hey, where are you going...?"

Sigh. It's a wonder I am still single.

Rule #1- You are What You Eat

roasted red pepper and hummus wrap, mixed nuts and mangosteen (yeah, you know you want to say it out loud... MAN-go-stEEEEEEEEEEEn) juice... mmmm....

Whoa boy, my fingers and toes are seriously tingling as I write this. I haven't decided if this is really cool, or entirely terrifying. Ever had that feeling when you are drinking that you know you're getting drunk, and possibly going to start touching old men in ways only their doctors touch them, because you can feel it in your feet? That is exactly what I experience on a daily basis from this stuff.

As one of my lifestyle changes I have implemented to counter-act the weird effects Topamax has taken on my body, I am trying to return to a Vegan diet.

A few years back, I changed over to a Vegan diet and the positive effects on my health were immediately noticeable. I had more energy, and most notable was that it was the first winter I did not get the flu. Unfortunately, I went through some rough changes in my life and as a result, I backslid into my carnivorous ways. (I blame you, Jimmy Johns Beach Club)

My resolution this year was to start eating vegetarian, which I have only strayed from once (insatiable craving for a gyro... some of you will understand.). I feel as if the transition back into Vegan-ism and mostly organic eating will be fairly easy, and very beneficial for my over-all well being. The only down-side is that healthier eating often comes with a higher price tag. Ah, if only I could find time in the day for a fifth job.... "but Leah, I thought hookers mostly worked at NIGHT!" Ha. Funny.

In completely un-related news, one of my new favorite bands is coming to town tonight: Neon Trees! Most nights I find it hard to do much of anything, and I find my way into bed around 11. I hope that tonight I find the energy to stay and watch the whole show. I mean, if everything works out according to plan, I'm going to have to muster up enough strength to haul Jared Leto's unconscious body to my car, then dress it up in a Popple costume and duct-tape it to my room mate's dresser. Man, I'm getting tired just thinking about it!