Ok, so this post comes a few days late but let’s suffice it to say that I’ve been busy. We’ve had fabulous friends in town again, I’ve been house-sitting (YAY ROOFTOP DECK!) and suffice it to say that much, MUCH DebauchAubrey Drama has ensued. (Danny told me today that my life is a soap opera he’d want to TiVo; to me, my life is a soap opera that I’d like to get cancelled for low ratings.)

Anyway, last week we hit the premiere screening of Snakes on a Plane (which is the best craptastical movie I’ve ever seen…the parts that I remember of it, that is) and since then, I’ve been singing this song.

"So kiss me goodbye…I can see the venom in your eyes!"
 

New song obsession of the day: “Melt Your Heart” by Jenny Lewis w/the Watson Twins.

“Nothing is ever as good as it was
And what’s good for your soul
Will be bad on your nerves if you reverse it “

I’m a firm believer in music therapy, whether you want to call it that or not. The soundtrack of my life, of my day, changes constantly…not only the songs, but also the genres, are more appropriate in some situations than others. Just think: the music you blast on a warm summer day in your convertible while riding around with friends is very different than the durges you place on repeat while lamenting your last boyfriend.

For me, though, it’s often the lyrics that somehow weave their way into my head with a resounding reverberance to remind me of what I already know. Like a subtle nudge from the angel (or devil, at times) on your shoulder, I can be contemplating a decision and find that the answer is in the next line of the song I’m listening to.

I’m listening.

Why is it that when you’re at your skinniest and tannest, when even your skinny jeans are loose on you, when you catch a glimpse of yourself after the shower and think “Hey! I look pretty hot!” there’s nobody to take advantage of it yet when your at your grodiest, poochiest, must-lose-these-five-pounds you find yourself in the company of male suitors? I mean, there’s just something inherently wrong about not getting to be naked when you look damn good.

Fucking Murphy’s Law, or, more accurately, Murphy’s Fucking Law?

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Pink Flasks lead to FUN, originally uploaded by Aubs.

Apparently, according to Amazon, people who buy pink flasks (like yours truly) also buy Crotchless French Knickers.

But of course!

Lately, when we’ve been going out, we’ve been keeping a quote list of things that sound hilarious while inebriated. I’ve had such gems as: "Whatever. I’m pretty. I want a plane." and "Will somebody please buy that boy a Clapper?" The ones we had in Cabo were equally as ridiculous, but so in-context that I’m not even going to try and report them here.

However, in lieu of that (and finishing the work I am supposed to be doing), I leave you with today’s nugget of wisdom:

"Ryan Adams simultaneously makes me happy and depresses me. He’s a musical cocktease."

I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of my use of the word ‘cocktease.’

Attention: All past, present and future suitors.

You’re NOT having a Bachelor Party in Cabo, attending a Bachelor Party, having a Bachelor Party EVER. I’ve seen played part of heard about the things that happen, and it’s not pretty.

Hugs and Kisses, Your Future Wife

Apparently, I don’t do incognito well. I mean, I *SUPPOSE* I do it well enough, gauging from the emails that I’m getting, but whatevs. I’m here. Didn’t mean to disappear, it’s just….too much fun. Anyway. Not intentional. Just busy. I’ll write when I’m back.

Am in Cabo, where my phone doesn’t work. Nor my internet. Somehow, my BlackBerry does (which I’m typing this from) but that’s only due to me having a situation with Lila’s puppy care and somehow, it giving me ALL Y’ALL’s Dodgeball messages at an ungodly hour when my phone decided to turn itself on this am. Suffice it to say that nobody in this room was pleased with a 4am wakeup call.

Let’s get me back to the important things, and rest assured, a rundown of the already-insanity will be publicly documented at some point.

Well, most of it.

In the meantime, sit tight and know that thwe best is yet to come. (Especially the pictures.)

Thirty-six days. I have gone out THIRTY-SIX DAYS IN A ROW. Some involved a movie or just drinks on my friend’s rooftop deck, others involved full-fledged DebauchAubrey, and others are just too insane to discuss. But every single one of them, all thirty-six in a row, involved fun fantasticness (and a brew or twelve.)

Our lil’ group of friends uses Dodgeball, this software where you can send out a text message "checking in" wherever you are at in the city that then sends alerts to your self-designated group to let them know where you are. Basically, it removes every last drop of anonymity in this world, and yet we still use it incessently even though we’re all still out with each other and KNOW that we’re all there. Dorks, we are.

At the end of the month, it sends you a digest of where you’ve been, which today brought me amusement to see just how much DebauchAubrey really occurred in the past 30 days. Um, so much. Upon reading it, I was thinking "First TNDC! Valleyschwag Party! Promsumating!" The list goes on, and on, and on. They even send you a handy map so you can see just WHERE this DebauchAubrey was occurring. Apparently, well-divided between my ‘hood and the Mission. Sounds about right, considering.

I can’t wait to see August.

Daisy and I have recently taken on a new sport: DayDrinking™. A very competitive sport, the outfit requirements alone are STRINGENT. One must dress very strategically for a successful DayDrinking™ event to avoid being given a purple card for inappropriate attire-ment.

While tailgating isn’t often found at these events, post-game action often includes DrunkShopping™ and DrunkPedicuring™, similar yet equally rigorous sports. After all the action subsides, however, we often find ourselves wanting the match to continue, so at times, we have a Victory BBQ. Figuring out HOW to get to the Victory BBQ can be tricky, though, especially when one finds speaking difficult. Without further ado, I present to you the Official Cheer of DayDrinking™: LaughGasms™.