We're at Broadway Gymnastics!

When I was single and a newbie to L.A., my friends and I loved to go out, party and meet new people. Now I'm an old lady who enjoys her Friday nights on the couch with Dateline. But the other day, I passed a sign that read 'Broadway Gymnastics' and it made me laugh out loud because I thought of the time that my friend Jeri and I got stranded in Playa Del Rey and got saved by that damn sign.

If I remember correctly, Jeri, Alicia and I all went out somewhere and Alicia drove home and left Jeri and I with our other friend in Playa Del Rey. At the time we were fine and figured we would take a cab or something...you know, one of those drunken decisions? So we stayed out late and ended up crashing at our friend's apartment. The next morning when we woke up (in the same clothes we wore the night before, makeup smeared and teeth not brushed mind you), we wanted to get the hell out of there immediately. We didn't want to wake up our friends and figured it wouldn't be that hard to hail a cab out on the street. So there we were- Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee looking like the walk of shame rejects out on the corner at 7:00 AM, trying to catch a cab. We tried calling Alicia to come pick us up but even after we bribed her with a delicious McDonald's breakfast, she said there was no way she was going to come get us idiots. Dammit! So we tried calling a cab but the cab company wouldn't come get us without an exact address. We tried telling him that we were outside of the 'So-and-So' apartment building but without an address, they couldn't help us. So we walked about a half a mile down the street until we spotted the first address we could see- 'Broadway Gymnastics'. We called the cab company back and told the dispatcher that we were in fact at 'Broadway Gymnastics' and they sent the cab to pick us up. The driver looked extremely confused when he picked up two girls dressed in going out clothes, reeking of booze and sitting in front of this random gymnastics center on a park bench but he didn't say a word and drove us home...

Welcome to the Batcave!

My college years were probably one of the best times in my life and when I think about them now, I can't help but laugh at all of the good times my friends and I had. Looking at pictures of my sophomore year dorm room that I shared with my best friend Tori sparked so many memories, including our keen sense of home decor. What can we say? It was the year 2000, the Millennium, Y2K, the year of the hot pink zebra? Needless to say, we were super girly girls who loved to match and had to keep everything in order. I don't know about Tori, but I am still the exact same way now that I was back then. I get home from work, a trip, shopping, etc. and I have to put everything away in its place immediately. That's how we were as roommates- everything had its place and everything had to be put back in that place no matter what. Even when we would come back from the bar drunk, we managed to put our clothes and bags away. And yes, it amazed us every time we would wake up the next morning. Our parents would be so proud!

But for some reason we were always so jealous of our girlfriends who had clutter everywhere. You know the type...you get into this friend's car and have to move aside a few pairs of shoes and a tennis racket to find your seat belt. Or you walk into their dorm room and see books, clothes and makeup all over their bed and desk. For some reason, this was always so appealing to Tori and I because it was the total opposite of who we were, You know the old saying, 'you always want what you don't have' and goddammit, we just wanted to be messy! So one night we decided that for an entire week, we wouldn't put anything back in its place. We also felt the need to pull down the blinds for that whole week and rename our dorm room 'The Batcave.' Don't ask.

We stuck to our plan for the next few days and when we got back from class, we would drop our books in the middle of the room and throw our jackets on the bed. After we would go out, we would toss our clothes on the floor and leave our makeup sprawled out all over the dresser. It felt nice for the first day or so but then I could tell Tori was becoming anxious and I was ready to crawl out of my skin. Almost simultaneously midway through the first week, we looked at each other, screamed and started cleaning our room like crazy. We pulled up the shades and the Batcave was no more. Who did we think we were? Our experiment failed and we never spoke about the few days of clutter again.

The Bar Is Open......In My Trunk!

Because our parking garage is a few blocks away from our loft downtown, we can't always bring everything into the house after our bi-monthly Costco run. And since I refuse to buy one of those old lady carts to wheel my groceries into my apartment, we usually leave a few non-perishable items in the car and bring them in the next day. Trust me, I have tried to gather and carry EVERYTHING into our place a few times by myself and ended up looking the Jesse and Chester from Dude, Where's My Car? when they were cleaning up the Twins' apartment and drop that damn bottle cap...(Even when using my Click & Carry, Kim!) The other day, we took my newly detailed car to Costco to get some groceries and like usual, left some popcorn, cups, grapefruit and two bottles of vodka in my trunk for me to bring in later. Everything was fine and dandy until I opened my trunk on my lunch break the next day to grab a reusable bag and almost passed out from the overwhelming vodka stench that slapped me in the face. I looked at one of the bottles and noticed that it had completely cracked in half and the entire contents had spilled ALL OVER my trunk (1.75 liters to be exact). What the hell was I supposed to do? And is it bad that I was more upset over the lost vodka than my trunk? They say that there's no use crying over spilled milk but crying over spilled vodka? Perfectly okay!

I tried my best to clean up the shards of glass and sop up the vodka with the blanket that was already soaking wet in my trunk but I couldn't get rid of the smell. When I got in my car to leave work that day and shut the door, it was as if someone put a rag saturated with rubbing alcohol over my mouth and I was about to pass out. I'm pretty sure that if I were to get pulled over I would have gotten a DUI just because the officer would have a hard time ignoring the vodka stench coming from my vehicle. I drove the hour commute home with all my windows and my sunroof open and when I got to my parking garage, I cleaned the trunk again with everything and anything I could find under the sink. But the next morning when I got in my car, the alcohol stench was just as bad as it was the previous day and I got a little lightheaded/drunk immediately. Screw it, I had to drop my car off at the car wash again...there was no other option! When I brought it in that morning, I told the guys that I just had it detailed but an entire bottle of vodka spilled in my trunk so they should just concentrate on that area. They looked at me like I was crazy! When I picked up the car, it was significantly better but now it smells like an alcoholic who is trying to hide the liquor smell with a flowery perfume. After this stint, my car definitely needs to go to rehab.

What Do You Mean- Retire That Purse?

You know when you have that one accessory that you absolutely love and no matter how many times it breaks and you fix it, you find a way to keep using it? Well, that's how I feel about this purse Grace gave me from Goodwill. (All you snobs can stop gasping now....yes, I said Goodwill!) About 5 years ago, Grace was Sally O'Malley from Saturday Night Live for Halloween and needed a small, vintage looking purse that she didn't have to carry. She needed something she could kick, stretch and kick with all night long.

So, she went to Goodwill and found the perfect bag that kind of looks like a fake Chanel. A 'Fanel' if you will. I was eyeing that purse all night and snatched it from her the next day when I knew she wouldn't be needing it any longer. Low and behold, that little purse has stuck with me over the years and has even received many compliments to which I smile and say, "thanks! It's Amanda Smith from Goodwill!" But lately, it has managed to break every time I take it out. Either one of the clasps breaks, or the black pleather (let's be honest here) straps come unraveled. As much as Anthony pleads with me to throw that thing out, I love it and continue to fix it anytime it breaks with my pliers and/or sewing kit. There are just some things that you can't let go of...

A Couple Who Sleeps Together, Stays Together...

You know what they say- 'a couple who sleeps together, stays together,' right? And I literally mean sleeping together as in dozing off, catching some Zzzzz's and conking out. One thing that Anthony and I share a passion for is sleep. (Ironically I am writing this at 6:30 am on a Saturday morning- but I did fall asleep last night at 8:30 pm on the couch.....) I'm not sure if we over exhaust ourselves during the day (occasionally with day drinking on the weekends) or if its a touch of narcolepsy, but there are many times when both of us (together and separately) have fallen asleep in places where it is just not normal for people to pass out.

Here are a few place where one or both of us have fallen asleep at one time or another....standing up and leaning against a wall at a bar in New Orleans, the movie theater, a famous pizza restaurant in Chicago during dinner, the beach, at work, a friend's couch during a party, a Cirque du Soleil show in Vegas, the back of a taxi, a San Francisco Giants game and a Chicago Cubs game. We can only hope that when we have children, they will take after us and sleep through the night. Every night.....I can dream, right?