When Will I Learn???

Why? Why? Why do I drink when I know that I have to work the next morning? When I was a waitress/student we all drank and went to work/class, but that was ten years ago, and I don't bounce back like I used to. Especially since I work with a bunch of REALLY LOUD (often obnoxious) firefighters. Please, god, don't tell them that I'm hung-over, or they'll make it their #1 priority of the day to make my life a living hell!

It is their fault anyway. This all started with the champagne fountain at THEIR Christmas party that I HAD to go to last night. The champagne made me forget about having to be back up here at 8am (8:25am this morning, but who's counting?) Actually, it was the champagne, that cute boy I'm seeing, and a yummy little beer called Guinness. (Do you have a drinking problem if Guinness sounds good even when you are hung over? or is Guinness just that good?) Anyhoo - don't drink pink freakin' champagne (EVER) and certainly don't chase it with four Guinness on a work night. Oh hell, and a lemon-drop shot. . . why did I have to remember that? Now my head hurts even more.

I even forgot the Hangover Prevention Plan last night. (I'm telling you the plan works; however, I am neither a doctor, nor I am endorsed by one - actually, my good buddy Kris is a doc, but I don't think he is going to sign-off on a hangover endorsement even though he has taken my advice in the past.)

Auntie T's Hangover Prevention Plan
Gather 'round children and listen to your wise old Auntie T
tell you how to make it through the holidays hangover free!

Step 1 - Regardless of what one drinks, one should drink one glass of water for every alcoholic beverage imbibed. This alone will help you avoid drinking copious amounts of alcohol, expecially if you are a female as you will spend most of your time in line for the WC.

Step 2 - Avoid shots. It is much easier to avoid them if you can develop a reputation as a person who has in the past not only refused a shot but who has actually left a purchased shot setting on the table (or given it to the cocktail waitress or a complete stranger). Once an insistant friend sees his/her money go to waste in this manner, his/her attempting to force shots upon you will greatly lessen and often cease. If you are forced into doing a shot, refer to Step 1.

Step 3 - Is there music playing? Then dance, you crazy kids, dance! Dancing is not only a great distraction, but often the offending beverages are dropped, lost, or stolen by drunken cronies while you are on the floor. (Do I have to tell you to never leave a drink setting around when you are on the dance floor? Unless your mom is with you, and she is sober and willing to keep an eye on your drink, you have to keep it in your hand, my friend.)

Step 4 - Don't be a social smoker! I know tons of people who only smoke when they drink, but this will wreak havok on your system almost guaranteeing a headache the next morning (and gross black boogers)!

Step 5 - Okay, so you've screwed the pooch on the rules and are leaving the bar hammered. You should immediately quit drinking (after-parties almost always guarantee a hangover), proceed to the nearest fast food establishment, drink a bunch of water and/or caffeinated beverages, and get some food in your belly.

Step 6 - I always take a Benedryl before I go to sleep when I've been drinking. I'm not sure what the FDA would say about it, but you will end up sleeping your ass off and usually won't wake up with a headache. (On the off chance that you wake up with a throbbing headache at 7am, drink a glass of water and take another Benedryl, it will knock you out in about 20 minutes, and you will sleep for another three hours.)

As I learned when I was in New Orleans, there are some places where none of the above apply; however, there is a handy-dandy product one can take when waking up hung-over: Alka-Seltzer Morning Relief. This stuff can fix anything. All it is is caffeine and aspirin in an easy to digest fizz that usually settles your stomach (unlike other headache meds that usually make you hurl).

I don't want to hear one word about how bad Alka-Seltzer tastes! If you can shoot Yeager Meister and Rumple Mintz, you can suck back a six ounce cup of Alka Seltzer!

Ok Mom, I don't hate boys

I think God answered my prayers last night. I asked for hot boys to come into my life, and they did. It was like that water to wine (we won't get on that subject) thing that Jesus did. Very random, yet really cool.

So, last night ( I say this with a girly squeal) Cody Faust, a wrestler from Nebraska, and Joel Flaggert, a wrestler from OU called me. They wanted to know if I would attend their party that had the word KEG in it somewhere. They said I could come by myself, but that is like a cardinal rule or something, right?

So, I called up virtually every girl I talk to (2) and asked them if they wanted to go with me. Of course Sarah was like, "who are they," and I had to explain them to her which took way too much time, and then the other girl Kaylie was out of town at her gay boyfriends house (not kidding when I say gay. I mean it.).

I ended up not going to the party, but I felt better about my life after they called. Cody said he would call me tonight to see what I was up to. Joel probably has a date with, like, Britney Spears tonight or something. That's how hot he is. Not that Cody isn't hot. If he had a date with me, that's how hot he would be.

// I am aware that those links may not come in tow with the best pictures of my wrestling hotties, but rest assure those were taken before season( they tend to get fat when its not wrestling season, especially Cody).

Pardon me while I eat my freaking words.

I hate boys.
I hate boys.
I hate boys.
I hate meatloaf.
I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, and I repeat, I hate BOYS!


Dear inventor of Boyfriends, probably God,

Bad invention. BAD.

Sometimes, boys are really dumb, and they get mad because they want you to go to a movie with them and not your good friends birthday party. They also take your cell phone away from you and wont let you have it back. On occasion they throw toothbrushes and cloth belts. But most of the time they are just ignorant-arrogant-dumb-dumb-stupid-mother-effing-sons-of-mothers, and they should all rot in, uhm, some place unpleasant. Like a women’s shoe store. For the rest of their days here on earth.

Sometimes, you get kicked out of boyfriend’s apartments and they yell at you from their balconies. They say things like, "you are immature," and, "you are the worst girlfriend, no, ex-girlfriend, ever!"

Cry me a freaking river you overly-sensitive-I-act-more-like-a-girl-than-a-guy-that’s-about-to-go-into-bootcamp, thank God-for-the-marines-and-I-need-anger-management-‘cause-I-punch-walls, boy (notice I did not say man).

No love from me,
Brittany

P.S. He has called, but I have not answered. He has sent text messages, but I have not replied. He keeps saying that he misses me and he loves me, but I will not fall into the trap again. I refuse to let a guy toss me around. Boys do not get the best of me. Not ever.

P.S.S. Thank you Co-Author of He's just not that into you, Greg. I am glad you think that every guy on this earth should want me, and I should not waste my time with dumb boys who think everything should be about them, and then get mad when its not. And, for making me realize this AFTER I get to the part about your boyfriends not that into you if he's breaking up with you, and after he has already broken up with me just to come back and say that he has made me biggest mistake of his life and begged me to take him back. Thank you, Greg.

I Remember

I recall long nights when my tears and my broken heart were my two best friends. I recall swearing to myself that nothing causing me to feel this way was worth one second of my life. I recall not to long ago posting about a boy who didn't know what I had been through in my previous relationship, and soon after realizing it was just that--he simply had no idea.

I find myself wanting to run far, far away on many occasions when I am spending time with my boyfriend. It seems things are going so well that they couldn't possibly be this way forever, or for any length of time for that matter.

I realize now, that just because one (stupid, stupid) boy made me feel like my life was a crashing train, one car hitting the other at a rapid pace, doesn't mean that all of them are going to make me feel that way. This realization flipped a light switch, so to speak, and made me feel happy. I don't feel like running away from every guy that comes my way anymore. I want to now and forever more be made to feel like a princess. Like I am the one thing on this planet worth living every moment for.

I like knowing that I make someone's life just that much better with me being in it, and mine being the same way. And I like knowing that I have a heart next to my own that beats at the same rhythmic melody of wanting that one person there by your side. I truly love that feeling.
Maybe I'm just a young girl who knows nothing about relationships--who knows. I may just be speaking in lust with a sparkle in my eye. That very well could be the case, however, I will let this one last as long as it is supposed to, and if my heart breaks into a million sharp-edged pieces, so be it. As for now, I am content. I hope to stay that way for a very long time.

Recall I will not to the harshness and audacity of my last boyfriend. Nor will I let that be an interference, ever.

Sanity Check

Just because our blog is pink, does not mean that I am going to let this thing go all "smoochy-boy-crazy." Must I remind you what they are capable of? Can you not remember being hurt so badly that you can't take a deep breath without having actual physical pain that lands somewhere between your throat and your stomach? Am I going to have to start posting transcipts of my x-boyfriends drunken, ranting voice-mails?

If Brit can post a love poem, Auntie T can post a break-up poem:

Since

I have been forcing myself
to sleep in the middle
of my bed. I push away
your pillow having sought
your scent, finding it too
is gone, I lie on my back

remembering how once
you straddled my hip
in your sleep
a child, clinging,
asking me not
to leave you,
your nightmares
waking me
as you slept.

-Tona

Perfect Beauty

You look into my eyes
Like a mirror
An image seen and it’s perfect
What is perfection?
If it's not the way I feel
Or the way you look at me
The way my hand fits in yours
And the way you run your fingers
Through every strand of hair
And your smile
You tell me that I’m beautiful
What is beautiful?
If it’s not the way you make me laugh
The way each kiss gives me goose bumps
You can never have just one
The way the butterfly flutters in my stomach
When I’m thinking about you
We are beautiful perfection
We are perfection in the most beautiful way

What every girl wants to hear

Listen up, because I am going to give you a rare pearl of wisdom. Whether she will admit it or not, every girl (age doesn't matter) wants to hear the following words - even if they can't admit it to themselves.

Tough, you think you've got the stuff
You're telling me and anyone
You're hard enough

You don't have to put up a fight
You don't have to always be right
Let me take some of the punches
For you tonight

And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you when I don't pick up the phone
Sometimes you can't make it on your own

Lyrics by Bono -- "Sometimes you can't make it on your own"

It is very un-twenty-first century to admit, but coming from a self reliant, independent, strong woman with just enough gin and tonic in her blood stream to be honest, you have to believe me - The only people, male or female, who cannot echo the above sentiments have just not lived long enough or are simply not self aware enough to know it. We all need to be taken care of from time to time. We all need to have someone else fight our battles from time to time. And it is pure magic when you find the person who does that for you. Don't settle.

I got spanked--HAHA

Once upon a time in the ghetto town of M-Dub, a young lady was sleeping at 9:30 in the morning, when all of the sudden, her early rising Grandmother entered her room and started yelling for her to get up.

Once hearing the time, the young lady quickly disregarded the Grandmother and put the blanket over her head. To the young lady's surprise the Grandmother threw the blanket right back off and yelled, " Get up. It's 9:30. It's almost the afternoon!"

Then, in utter anger the young lady went to the end of the bed and grabbed her blanket and yelled in a growling tone, "Leave me alone! I am not ready to wake up! Unlike you, I don't like getting up when the rooster crows just to vacuum or wash a dish!"

She then covered her self back up and tried to go back to sleep.

It was not 10 minutes later that the Grandmother (now evil) came back into the young lady's bed room and, again, threw the blanket off. This time, the Evil Grandmother was really angry. She yelled and yelled and yelled at the young lady to get out of the bed, but the young lady just let out a, "leave me alone," and tried to block her out. In doing so, the young lady made the Grandmother even more angry.

The Grandmother paced around the room for a moment trying to find something in which to let out anger. She found a hair brush. Yes, a freaking hair brush. The Grandmother picked up the hair brush and hit the young lady on the ass like five times.

This did not go well with the young lady. This did not go well at all.

She got up on her knees still in her bed and looked her Evil Grandmother right in the eyes while taking the hair brush out of her hands and said, " I am not 10 years old. Do not ever spank me again, not even with a hair brush!"

The young lady then put the cover back over her head and went back to sleep.

At about 11:00 in the morning, the Grandmother came in and apologized for spanking the young lady with a hair brush and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

They lived happily ever after.

The end.

Stupid, Stupid Boy

The unthinkable happened today. It was something that has never, ever happened. Ever.

I, Brittany Jonn, got dumped.

It is indeed true, and I only speak the truth (I swear).

Apparently, I don't spend enough time with ex-boyfriend (who should now and forever more be known as SATAN).

And, I don't call SATAN enough.

And, I dont pay enough attention to SATAN.

And, I go to parties with my friends--without SATAN.

And, I go to his part of town to visit friends, and I don't have the common courtesy ( who says that? only SATAN.) to visit him while I am there.

I didn't even drive.

Had I driven my vaccum- sounding space ship to his part of town, I may have stopped by to give a hello, and (if feeling generous) give a kiss, but nooooo. That's not good enough. I guess in this case, it's not "the thought" that counts. That blows.

I can't really say it bothers me all that much. It's not like he's the only guy in the world. I mean, there are other guys that would like me. Right, mom? RIGHT?

Anyhoo, I shed a tear or two, but quickly blamed it on the dust that flew into my eye while listening to SATAN tell me how bad of a girlfriend I am.

Male race, you are on my bad side. At least until I meet another boy who is much hotter and buffer, with no hi-i'm-really-50-not-21 receding hairline.

Girls rule. Boys Drool. Rock out.

Important - Know Your Role!

It’s important everyone know his role in tonight's Big IV Championship game, so listen up. If you have ever been involved in any superstition that seemed to help the Sooners win, then you better be on your game tonight. No shortcuts. No excuses. Last year was an embarrassment. I know that it appears that the fate of the game rests with the players and coaches, but do not underestimate the supernatural.

To those of you who are required to tap the lucky helmet - I have not decided whether or not I will accept call-in helmet taps for tonight’s game. It has seemed to work okay in the past and will probably suffice. Just a heads-up, though, there will be no call-in taps for the National Championship game should the Sooners win tonight. You will personally touch the helmet on game day.

This rule applies to everyone. At 7pm (cst) tonight, light a candle, say a quick prayer, meditate, send positive energy – whatever it is you do – do it for the Sooners. It doesn’t matter whether you are an OU fan or not. Don’t be selfish. Selfish people suck and they might burn in a fiery hell forever. I am not sure. Don’t take any chances.

Boomer Sooner.

Blog Virgin No More

Oh my god! I don’t know if I can deal with the stress of being a blogger. Not only does this have the potential of being read by half-a-dozen people I don’t even know, but if I don’t start contributing, I could end up getting pinched really hard. It is even possible that I could have my invitation to the OU vs. Colorado – Big XII Championship Game Watch Party at MamaT’s withdrawn. “Please MamaT, I’ll be good, I’ll blog, just let me come over and watch the game. I just want it to be like the old days!”

Actually, the freakiest thing about me blogging is that in college I worried that I would never get my BA because I had a little bit of a phobia about writing: the pressure of being graded, of being JUDGED, of being sober long enough to do the research and pound out the paper. Not completing writing assignments may not be that big of a deal in some disciplines, but it really tends to piss them off when you are working on a degree in English.

Long story short, I got the degree then got a job where I never used it. Unless you count the fact the my studying literature helped me wade through page after page of police reports, trying to keep straight victims (people who didn’t do anything wrong “Swear to God”), offenders (people who were only reacting to the awful statements made about their mama, girlfriend, or baby-daddy), and witnesses (people who ran up after the fight started just to see what happened – but refused to tell the cops anything).

Studying literature (often simply referred to as “reading A LOT”) also helped me figure out the most likely true story of what really happened after having read 30 hand-written witness statements regarding the occurrences outside a trailer home in Podunk, OK, after one guy realized that the other guy had sold him “bad shit” instead of “good shit.” Think of it as “In a Grove” on meth.

Anyway, I left that job about a year ago and I have to write all of the time in my new job, and it really doesn't freak me out much anymore. That is why I was so suprised when I got blogging phobic, but I've conquered my fear, my first post is up, and I'm going to the Big XII watch party. Boomer Sooner!

Break-Up Letter

B Said:

Dear Refrigerated Box of Wine,

After much thinking today, I have realized that we should stop seeing each other. I know what you are thinking. We only hung out a couple of times and we were just getting to know each other, but it is better that we end things now. My mother does not approve.

Maybe if I wasn't my mother's daughter it would be funny that I stole her Thanksgiving wine and took it with me to a party. However, I am not Jameson, therefore, I can not get away with breaking this commandment. If I steal you again RBOW, there is a good chance that I will be crucified. I learned today, RBOW that it is a sin to get drunk off of wine. However, it's a sin to eat to the point of fullness as well. HAHA. Everyone in America sinned on Thanksgiving!! SINNERS!

1..2..3.. (deep breath) ask for forgiveness.

There was one thing that I did like about you though RBOW, and it's that when I was with you I was nice to absolutely everyone. I was even nice to people that I didn't like. I was even nice to ex-boyfriends. I would have even been nice to John Kerry had he been there, but he wasn't. I might have even been nice to Jojo too, but that's a tough call. I really hate her.

Anyway, I'm sorry it had to end this way. Though a little dry, you were still sweet. Maybe there is another chance for us down the road, like, when I'm 21 or getting married.

XoXo,
B

Mom Said:

Dear RBOW,

B is right. I do not approve. I do not approve on many levels. First of all, there is the age difference. You are too old and too experienced for her. Secondly, there is the whole sneaking around thing. You may think it is hypocritical of me to disapprove after I introduced the two of you Thanksgiving evening, but I had no idea either of you would let a short introduction develop into a relationship. Thirdly, if you run off with her, how can you be there for me when I want you? I am not the jealous or possessive type. It is just that when I leave you, I expect you to be where I put you the next time I want to visit with you.

While I disapprove, I am not sure I would go as far as calling it a "sin" for you to be together (must have been Mema's influence). However, B is right. If I catch the two of you together again without me around, she will be crucified. I'm not going to say I will never hang out with you again, but rest assured, I will put you under tighter restrictions. I do not wish to demonize you; the blame rests on B's shoulders.

It is hard for me to dislike anything that makes B a nicer person, but since you have the ability to cloud one's vision, I am not sure she can be a good judge of the effects you have on her behavior. Was she nicer to people she doesn't generally care for, or did she just not give a shit that they were around? Tell the truth. When you are with someone a lot, you have the tendency to make them not give a shit about a lot of things.

As far as this being funny, it is, a little. I won't be a downer and talk about all the ways it could be very unfunny, because I think you already know all the bad things that could arise from this unsanctioned union. Jameson amuses me because he is kind of a fictional character to me. I did not birth him, nor am I responsible for molding him into a decent human being. Besides, he is good enough to hide his indiscretions, apparently very well, from his parents.

I am sure when the circumstances are right you and B will be together again. Who knows, we might even have a girl's night out with you as the guest of honor. But for now, you are my special friend. Not my daughter's. Understood?

For the record: The box of table wine was purchased for the (almost) teetotalers at Thanksgiving. Boxed wine stays fresh a lot longer than bottled, and since we rarely drink at M & D's house it is a good choice to leave there. T and I drank a couple of good bottles of wine that day, and we had the presence of mind to take home the leftovers. Not, I might add, because we had any thoughts of thievery but because we are selfish.