Fo Realzzzz

Once upon a time,

There was a girl in high school that dated a very cute hippy boy. As most relationships happen in high school, they broke up. They ended however, on very pleasant terms and remained friends. Almost a year later the girls mother was driving her home. At a stop sign the high school girl saw the ex-boyfriend riding his bike towards their car. The two high schoolers waved kindly at each other. 

At this point in the story it was time to continue down the road and The girls mother began to take the turn towards home.

MOM!!!! YOU HIT EVAN!!!! The girl screamed as the bike and the car collided. The boy tumbled up the hood and back towards the ground, hitting it fairly hard. He then popped right back up looking stunned.  Fortunately for everyone involved, the ex survived with simply a cut on his knee and everyone continued to be friends. 

And everyone lived happily ever after….

But seriously, true story. 

The Chocolate Party

"Do you want to go to a Chocolate Party?"- mom

"Is that a real question" -me 

"There will be Chocolate Martini's"- mom

"You had me at Chocolate"

This was how this fateful day started. I'd go anywhere if I was promised Chocolate.
"Hey Siobhan do you want to go to New Jersey.... I'll give you chocolate"
"Yes"

"Siobhan do you want to do Jury Duty.... I'll give you chocolate"
"Yes"

wait I need to rephrase this, I'll go anywhere there is free food. I call this college survival skills. When you have been eating ramen for a few weeks you will go where there is free food.

Anyway, back to the story my mother and I are attending a Chocolate Party, I don't have to tell you how awesome a Chocolate Party sounds. I had in my head fountains and strawberries and mousse basically heaven. So we get dressed and head out to the party, I wore my big dress so I could have a chocolate baby and no one would notice. When we arrive we are greeted by a woman with two very very tiny dixie cups.
"Chocolate Martini's ladies?"
the woman handed us the tiny tiny dixie cups and walked off....
My mom and I looked at each other, a mutual agreement made only through the eyes that this is not at all what we were hoping for. We all sat down and the presentation began. It was miserable this horrible woman was demonstrating how to make all sorts of chocolate treats but not letting anyone try them. Legitimate torture. Sometime throughout the tempting demonstrations, a tiny cup of cupcake vodka came around, for everyone to try.
"Did you finish that?"
"What?"
"EVERYONE was sharing that"
"Well shit"

The presentation continued. It was like putting a starving man in a room with a steak and not letting him eat it.... but it was putting white women in a room with chocolate and not sharing. AND you had to buy shit. Not only was this mean but they were going to torture me out of my money. Finally the presentation was over and they give us a tiny plate in order to try the tiny snacks... it wasn't okay.
While everyone was chatting and purchasing, I looked up a recipe for chocolate martini's, shockingly simple and absolutely delicious.

"how about we go buy stuff and make our own chocolate martini's?"
"lets go"
So home my mother and I went with our martini's and bad moods to fix the day... we spent the afternoon sipping on heaven and watching girl movies.... My poor father sat in his chair.... babysitting us.

An Ode to Long Boarders

Oh dear long boarders...
As you zoom past me, your hair flowing in the wind.
Coming close to running over my toes.
Coming close to breaking my nose.
Making me jump ten feet high
Without regard you wiz by...
Weaving through the busy crowd
You make me want to yell out loud.
Do you notice all the people you scare
and rude it is that you just don't care.
I'd like for you to stop and think
Maybe, you have pushed us to the brink.
I would like to not live in fear
that a long boarder is somewhere near
endangering my life and toes
thinking that they will get the bitches and hoes
I really do dislike you
And next time you make the wrong pick
and decide to be a dick
to ride your longboard through the crowds
I may have to throw a stick...


Sincerely,
Siobhan

My Dog is Smarter than I am

My dog Grace had an ear infection. That will happen when you dive after sticks in a dirty lake all day (not like thats from experience or anything). So we got her puppy ear drops, all organic, perfect for a little princess like Grace. As you can tell, Grace is quite pampered for a normal sized dog, most little dogs get pampered but real sized dogs rarely do. So it came time to put in her little ear drops... easier said than done. She totally knew what was about to happen. She saw the little dropper and ran like hell. As my mother and I beckoned to her to come and get her ear drops she peered around the corner of the kitchen with a suspicious look in her eye as if to say *fuck you I know your about to torture me with that little droppy thingy* Unfortunately for her she is obedient and came despite her knowledge. She then sat 5 feet away from us and made me drag her the next few feet to be situated in my iron grip so she couldn't escape the evil ear dropper. The struggle began, Grace pulling away, me pulling her back my mom putting the expensive drops in her fur and REPEAT. 

Eventually we succeeded but Grace needed to prove how horrendous the torture really was so for the remainder of the evening she would stop every ten minutes shake her head vigorously just to prove how uncomfortable these devil drops were. 

Her tactic of coming when called but sitting far away worked yet again when I went to leave to come back to Boulder. When the first bag went in the car... she knew and went to sulk in the basement. Grace doesn't like the basement, she used to have to stay there so she wouldn't chew up the couch. However the basement was going to be the best option to show her disproval. After the last bag went out I went back inside to say my tearful (on my side) goodbye. To make me work for my time with her, she made me call her 4 times before coming up to the top stair and sitting looking at me with the saddest look. I pulled her towards me, she didn't help, so I basically scooted her across the hardwood floor. After a long hug she turned around, tucked her sad little tail between her legs and went back to the basement while I drove away. Basically I'm saying that my dog owns me and I do what she wants. 

The Worst Hair Cut EVER

It has been quite some time since I have written and for that I am sorry (especially to miss Jenny Wilson) but something of great proportions has happened to jolt me back into my blogging. Some platinum blonde with bubble gum ruined my whole perception of myself. Now for most boys, I realize that a horrendous haircut doesn't really ruin lives, I mean it's not like Im living in a box under the bridge or anything but it's still pretty bad. I also realize that when you are only paying $20 for a haircut, you can't expect anything breathtaking but I do assume that everyone who has ever been to a salon realized what a trim looks like.

It all started with a beautiful summer day, and getting prepared for school with haircuts and a mani-pedi. I finally get called up to the seat. She chomped her gum at me.
"My name is Courtney" chomp chomp
My first hint should have been the bleached blonde hair and bubble gum, but I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, because bubble gum is delicious, and not everyone can have super great red hair.
"I'd just like a trim please, only like two inches." I asked politely
"oh honey how long ago was it since you got your hair cut" chomp chomp "I gotta take off at least 3 inches"
"okay" I said, she did go to school for this so I imagine she knows a little bit and three inches I can handle, my hair is pretty long.
twenty minutes later I was spun around to a shocking discovery.
Apparently Courtney couldn't measure.
Chomp "So it's going to take a little getting used to" Chomp
gurgle... uhhhhh.... is all I could manage.
"But it's really healthy" she said
"Ya" I said
what I really wanted to say is "Seriously have you ever seen a ruler, this is at least 6 inches, and I didn't really care if it was super healthy, it's freakin dead cells and I just wanted it to look pretty and long".

Somehow I managed to get it together. I walked out, managed to somewhat tip her, and made it home. Where I broke down. Basically the moral of this story is I hope I don't see Courtney in the next week, my foot might kick her on its own accord. Also if you see me and say my hair looks short I might cry. Finally, I think I'll survive only after much therapy and my hair growing out.

Phoenix

As many of you know, my sister lives in Phoenix and I have visited her quite a few times, however each time I visit, something new happens. The experience this time was a lesbian country bar and a drag show. The day was pretty average, some hooping by the pool and some day drinking, however the night was a little more exciting. We started the night with $4 long islands, It's my financial responsibility to take every good deal I can get and $4 long islands are an extremely good deal, therefore I had two, just to be financially responsible. Then came the lesbian two stepping bar. Now I am A)not a lesbian and B) cannot two step, so needless to say I was slightly out of place. Not only did I feel out of place but my sister slurs to me
"People know you are straight because you are carrying your purse" apparently gay women leave their purses when the are at the bars. I two stepped my little straight heart out with my sister, her girlfriend and I even danced with Kristin (as if people don't already think we are always together). After working up quite a sweat, I decided to sit and take a well deserved break. A few minutes passed and an older woman comes up to me
"Have you ever had a french Martini?"
I wasn't sure if this was some term I didn't know or if it was legit a martini, I decided to risk it
"No I haven't"
Sure enough it was a real drink and this very nice woman bought me one. It was absolutely delicious.
Then came the drag show. This would have been a very typical night had it not been because of Kristins purse. Apparently the queens hated us. As this Tina Turner look a like strolled by she snags the purse and runs on stage....
"What the fuck is this ugly ass shit" she yells
We stood there
"Get up here you country sluts"
We were drug on stage to announce that we were from Colorado/Oklahoma. Then the queen proceeded to feed our country slut asses shots of tequila and shoo us offstage. I then gave over way to much money to theses ladies mostly because my sister continued to shove dollar bills in my cleavage which the queens would retrieve.
As if that wasn't quite enough for the evening, there were birthday shots, which yet another queen pulled us up on stage to give us, we weren't quite as ridiculed that time however for being country sluts.
Unfortunately for us, we drank very large quantities and were still drunk in the morning, just in time to pack and head to vegas...

Bartlesville

So we went on a road trip. Like a legit sort of road trip. Almost fucking 4000 miles. Anyway the first leg of our trip was to beautiful Bartlesville Oklahoma. Now let me be specific this is the hilly part of Oklahoma which is surprisingly not that bad. There are a few things on the drive that were specifically interesting. STALKer jesus. There is a giant billboard that literally has a painting of jesus in a bunch of corn stalks... get it STALKer jesus well yeah basically they are either telling you that jesus is always watching or that he is from Kansas either way it's pretty comical. Also there are way way to many cones. For no real reason. They will mark things that are clearly already marked.... it's like seriously I know where the shoulder is. So by the time we get there it was late so we kinda just passed out. Basically all we did for most of the trip was eat and watch Gilmore Girls. Before everyone goes and judges the shit out of me. Kristins mom and sister kick ass in the kitchen and I was in gluten free heaven anddddd Gilmore Girls is effing awesome why doesn't everyone do marathons? There were two very exciting events though. The canoe trip on the Cane River, I use the term river loosely here because basically we paddled upstream and then right back down. So pretty though and so fun and the whole time her dad gave me the best life lessons ever. John Green is a brilliant man.

The other thrilling event that went down was the Solo Club lemme tell you that place is bumpin. So we walk in... it was a straight up movie EVERYONE turned to look at us. So naturally we order two shots of tequila and find out not only is it miss Kristins birthday but the bartenders as well. The bar tender motions to Kristin with a slightly curious glass of liquid in her hand and Kristin follows her out back. In my head I came up with a specific time I would call the cops if she didn't come back luckily she did. The night basically proceeded with meeting some methy kids KGreen graduated with, being warned that we should leave now because we would have to much fun if we stayed, watching a very large lady punch a very tiny man, interrupting a couple in the bathroom, then having the biggest rap producer in Bartlesville try to take me to his "crib". I have never had so much fun. So concludes the beginning leg of the trip.

Yeesh

So after quite an awkward evening. A typical night of drunken shenanigans... I began to think of things that would be horrible to hear after a hookup. Here is a running list (or perhaps a walking list?) har har:
Damn you are a trooper
Time for my pills
Oh for real thats it?
So I have to get up early (Classic)
RUN ITS GODZIRRA!!!!
Son, are you done yet? (this can also happen the next morning)
Sorry I just gotta call my boyfriend (boy or girl)
Wheres the handle? (Dane Cook)
Oh nevermind that, it's just my webcam
*Name* said you were going to be better than that.
So is *roommates name* single
I'm actually a Zombie
Your mom was better
I always knew my first time would be with you
Did you rearrange your room (only applicable if it is the first time you have met person)
Would you be my prom date?
Surprise! Your on cadid camera
Really any sort of surprise is typically bad
go make me a sandwich
Babe, there is a ninja behind you.

If you'd like to comment and let me know some others I guess that would be awesome.

Alcoholism.

Yesterday, I was evaluating my life. I do that sometimes. I came to a conclusion.... I was born to drink. Pretty much everything in my life has pointed me towards drinking.Drinking A LOT.
It started when I was a child, during my first Christmas on earth my parents threw a party. My mother entrusted me to a close friend while she went to do whatever she needed to do.... When she returned from her business, whatever it was, she was greeted by a happy friend and a happy baby.
Mom's Friend: Siobhan just loves this eggnog
Mom: FUCK
My family makes a type of eggnog that is basically eggs and booze and sugar... mostly booze. BOOM drunk baby. So this very early appreciation of delicious alcoholic beverages sign towards being a drunk.
My family also drinks peppermint schnapps whenever we go camping... we haven't been camping in like ten years so before I was 11 I was swilling peppermint schnapps.
Everyone knows about the traditional St. Pattys Shot. Since like birth.
Okay there is a song... called Siobhan.... it's about how Siobhan is going to get super drunk and not come home at night.... If you don't believe me... look...
DRUNK
Next... My 21st birthday is the day after finals... yeah so it's natural to celebrate. duhhhh.
People are super surprised that I'm not 21 yet, I get super shocked face from people when I'm like oh yeah sorry I can't go to the bars yet.
Finally... I'm Irish... nuff said.


Oh and Jenny Wilson is really cool.

Dentist

No one likes the dentist, this is pretty common knowledge. Which leads me to think, what kind of person decides to be a dentist. Like what... did they get out of the dentist after being beaten and battered like damn that was fun. Or were they so tormented by these dentists from hell that they were like man I am gonna do the same thing to people and make them HATE me. Anyway I had to go to the dentist, because a piece of my tooth just like BOOM fell out. I was like damn that sucks. So I fought with insurance companies and found a tooth doctor close enough to walk to. Lemme start off with I got totally lost trying to find this damn place, luckily I had my iphone so I managed (seriously how did I ever live without my maps). The receptionist was super nice and I started off thinking this wouldn't be to bad like "hey maybe this is gonna be okay" I didn't remember the last time I went to the dentist so I was unconvinced it would be miserable. After waiting forever... as per usual. I was forced to put on horrible horrible orange glasses and he gave me a shot in my gums... yah. gums. Now don't get me wrong, I am extremely glad that I was numb but Mr. Dentist man gave me so much numbing stuff that my whole right side of my face went numb like eye, ear cheek the works. I looked kinda like a droopy eyed armless child... thank you Charlie Sheen. So after I was an adorable stroke victim, the Dentist began work, and by work I mean he pretty much beat the shit out of the right side of my face, so much for a gentle hand. At one point he literally punched me... I think it was an accident but there is no way to be sure. Thank heavens that I was numb because even with my whole stroke situation it was still extremely uncomfortable... like I'm surprised nothing was broken. After gagging and toughing out a whopping hour and a half, I was done.
Dentist: Ok, you're all done
Me: Wrearry (really)?
Dentist: Yep all finished, you will hurt a little once the numbing wears off, which will be in about two hours.
Me: Two howwers?!!! (hours)
Dentist: yeah, have a good day.
Walks out
So I start the trek back to class which I was already late for. It was only after walking through all of campus that I realized my face was not only numb but swollen. Apparently my face swells with any sort of stimulation. So I get to class, in which we watch a movie. Luckily I find a place on the edge (last time I was late I almost sat in someones lap). Unfortunately the occupant of this lucky seat I had found came back from the bathroom a few minutes later
Seat person: Uh you are in my seat.
Me: Oh shit sowwy
Seat person: Uh yeah (really thinking... you should have shown up to class on time then you wouldn't steal my seat you droopy eyed freak)
So I moved, then my phone rang an annoying ringtone, because my mom called... and it was loud.
Not only had I stolen a seat but now I interrupted the whole class with my strokeness. Heads turned and I turned bright red (luckily it was dark) I actually think someone laughed at my ringtone too
About halfway through the film, my numbness wore off,
FUCKKKK
no kidding it was going to hurt, my whole jaw, tooth and gums hurt, and they had gouges all in them. jesus this was bad. Naturally I couldn't find any Advil, so as any boulder college student would do, I spent the whole rest of the day using an herbal remedy to cure my aches.
Moral of the story. Seriously dentists suck.

Jilian and the Rabid Racoon

Twas a normal evening, not so long ago, when the family came home at different times after our various events. Our Heroine had just been to a horror movie at which she laughed (shes tough like that) and had made her way home. Little did she know that an intruder had gotten home before her and was about to prey on not only her leftovers but her ROOMMATES! As Jilian opened the door she stunned the intruder to give her a split second of an advantage, but that was all she needed. As the Rabid Raccoon came at her (I imagine he looked something like this )

she got out her greatest ninja moves and knocked him silly. He then surprised her and lunged at her throat, she only nearly saved herself putting her arm that she defended herself with at great risk. The raccoon realizing he would not defeat Jilian then ran for the stairs fixed on eating all of the people that were slumbering upstairs (or maybe just the pasta on the counter). Jilian, in a final attempt to save her friends screamed at which her voice sent the raccoon scampering up the chimney and out of our lives. Jilian then fixing her hair went upstairs and had the sweetest dreams.

But seriously there was a raccoon in our house that went up our chimney.

Bro-tastic

Summertime marks the time of the year when a certain breed of boy comes out to play... The bro. It's not that bros hibernate or something, they actually exist at all times however the sunshine makes them come out of the frat cave and into the streets giving nature enthusiasts such as myself a chance to see them in their natural habitats. There are a few types of bro:

The Tank Top Bro:
This specific bro rocks girl tank tops. Okay maybe not girl tank tops but tanks none the less. A lot of times these bros hit the gym hard to get their swell on. They have arms that are far to large for their legs and are probably a bit obsessed with getting a tan. Many a time these bros are also from Cali and say hella. They also wear bright colors and neon. Beware of sick trucks.

The Boat Shoe Bro:
These bros wear topsiders because they cannot get over that they are no longer in the ocean. With these bros beware of pastel color button ups. Sometimes these bros are not as into body building as tank toppers but still wanna look tan. BMW optional

A general note about bros: They are usually in packs (wouldn't wanna go anywhere without your fratastic crew) and they do a lot of laying in the sun. Similarly they all own cars/trucks that are way to expensive for anyone under the age of thirty and they are usually accompanied with a red cup and a few freshmen. They also play their music far to loud. (seriously we all don't need to hear what you are listening to)

A song (sung like the 12 days of Christmas

On the first day of Summer Boulder gave to me A douche bag from Northern Cali

On the second day of Summer Boulder gave to me two bros on a moped and a douche bag from Northern Cali,

On the third day of Summer Boulder gave to me Three red cups, two bros on a moped and a douch bag form Northern Cali,

On the fourth day of Summer Boulder gave to me Four neon tanks, three red cups, two bros on a moped and a douche bag from Northern Cali,

On the fifth day of Summer Boulder gave to me five Fake IDssssss
four Neon tanks, three red cups, two bros on a moped and a douche bag from Northern Cali,

On the sixth day of summer Boulder gave to me, six bros a wompin, five fake IDs,
 four neon tanks, three red cups, two bros on a moped and a douche bag from Northern Cali,

On the seventh day of summer Boulder gave to me seven bros a tanning, six bros a wompin, five fake ID's,
 four neon tanks, three red cups, two bros on a moped and a douche bag from Northern Cali,

On the eighth day of Summer Boulder gave to me, eight skanks a skanking, seven bros a tanning, six bros a womping, five fake IDs,
four neon tanks, three red cups, two bros on a moped and a douche bag from Northern Cali

On the ninth day of Summer Boulder gave to me, nine bros saying hella, eight skanks a skanking, seven bros a tanning, six bros a womping, five fake IDs
 four neon tanks, three red cups, two bros on a moped and a douche bag from Northern Cali

On the tenth day of Summer Boulder gave to me, ten bros lifting weights, nine bros saying hella, eight skanks a skanking, seven bros a tanning, six bros a womping, five fake ID's
 four neon tanks three red cups two bros on a moped and a douche bag from Northern Cali,

On the eleventh day of Summer Boulder gave to me eleven trust funds bros, ten bros lifting weights, nine bros saying hella, eight skanks a skanking, seven bros a tanning, six bros a womping, five fake IDs, four neon tanks, three red cups, two bros on a moped and a douche bag from Northern Cali,

On the twelve day of Summer Boulder gave to me, Twelve fraternities, eleven trust fund bros, ten bros lifting weights, nine bros saying hella, eight skanks a skanking, seven bros a tanning, six bros a womping, five fake IDs, four neon tanks, three red cups, two bros on a moped and a douche bag from Northern Cali

Spring Break

Ah Spring Break the time for sunburns and bubble burns (for those of you who don't know when you go to a foam party and get your bump and grind on, the foam leaves a nasty rash aka bubble burn). Time for one night stands and keg stands... you get the point. For me however it is time for cleaning and working. At least this year, instead of jetting off to exotic places I slept, worked, cleaned and drank. Normally, boulder is bumpin, people in the streets fun parties excitement. Not so much over break... the streets turn desolate places close down and the weather turns bitchy. Okay so there was just a ton of wind. I HATE wind more than anything. It scares the shit out of me. I feel like everything  bad happens on a dark windy night. Plus, sometimes if a huge gust of wind hits me I have a hard time breathing. I was informed that this is strange. Anyway so I got some pretend tanning in (I don't really tan I freckle and burn). I had to do all this tanning in between bursts of gale force winds but I still managed. I cleaned the shit out of our house where I discovered one of our windows is made of plastic and I found about $3 in change. Anyway two very exciting things happened. The first.... we made MEAD! Thats right I have reached a whole new level of drinking where I am crafting my own booze. If you don't know what mead is... google it. It started with a text of excitement.... then a trip to the grocery store. People stare at you strange when you are drunk and buying a ton of honey. Then we went to Ripple... it's a sin to be so close and not get frozen yogurt. So deliciousness and supplies we headed to Kristins house. We began to prepare. I plugged the sink and started thawing the honey 

Poor honey bears, they look like they are drowning. Well I'm brilliant and on accident put the plug in upside-down soooooo I broke Kristins sink. I guess I should probably go fix it. So next, we mixed all the ingredients.

Kristin had some troubles with the raisins.... then it was time for a drink break...

Naturally There were margaritas involved. It's always a drinking event. Hooping, Mead and Tequila... the best combo. We are planning on drinking our Mead on the 4th of July or If one of us bangs The hottest man in Glenwood. 

The other great event that went down is my mom came to visit. This is kind of a typical thing but this time was going to be different because I had plans. Big plans. To do fun things. We were Going to go tour the tea factory and go to all these fancy dinners and go hiking and go to a dinner theater. Oh and we were going to ride the Carousel of Happiness. 

Most of these things didn't happen. EVERYTHING was closed. Legit. So instead we ate a ton, laid around a lot and went to the dinner theater. 

Have you ever noticed that whenever you go to a live show you manage to fall in love with someone on stage? Always happens to me. Happened to me again at Swing. 

Anyway while all of you were out tanning in exotic places. I did a whole lot of nothing except propel my alcoholism to a new level and eat everything in sight. 

The Trouble with Hipsters

Every day I walk past Roma Cafe the smell of expresso fills the air, and the sound of happy people chatting hits my ears ...and am extremely careful not to step in dog shit. Along with the large amounts of dog shit that somehow end up on that side of the street in that particular corner, another thing bothers me about this specific location. The mother fucking hipsters. Now I am not one to be judging other people but hipsters drive me crazy. I can pretty much feel them staring at my running shoes and Buffs gear being like "She is so conformist, I bet she even likes top 40 music." Well yeah I do like top 40, it's super catchy and I'd like to see these hipsters bump and grind to their Alternative Rock. Anyways I hate Cafe Roma because of the judgement thrown at me.

For those of you that don't know what hipsters are: They are trendy non-conformists. They typically hang out at casual coffee shops, and like read poetry. They don't like the things that the general public does and they usually wear black thick framed glasses and do something artistic.
It's like when film majors come up to you and are like I saw this really cool film that had this super cool thing.... but you wouldn't understand... boom hipster judgement. I know this about hipster film majors because I am a film major... and I get talked to by the older film majors like this.

Today was terrifying. After a long day of filming I went to see my friend Kristin at work and snag some free food. I was planning on sitting down and doing some relaxing with the new book I got. After grabbing my food and my chai I began the read... As most people who have ever met me know, I get distracted quite easily... my mind began to wander
My Mind: I'm really glad I got my glasses this is easier to read.... Glad I took a chance on these thick black frames... I like the way I look..... man I need new clothes I haven't bought many new things in a while..... Mmmmmm delish Chai..... I love the way Saxys looks, it's so trendy...... ahhhhhh Edgar Allan Poe and Jack Kerouac, can't wait to dive into you.... man there is still some film in my ugly ass purse... long day of artistic filming......FUCK
FUCK
I'm a god damn hipster...
SHIT
I had just listed all of the qualities necessary for a judgy mcjudgerson hipster.... Artistic career choice, thick rimmed glasses, poetry, non-conformist clothes, trendy coffee shop, LIBERAL.... All I was missing was the side swept bangs and the better than you attitude. I panicked and texted Jilian in need for someone to put my mind at ease that this was simply a mistake.
"You're not a hipster, you are Siobhan" the ever wise Jilian reassured me
"Siobhan disguised in hipster trends"I replied
"Sure" Jilian replied, obviously not concerned of the disgustingness I had brought upon myself... After enough calming down I was fine and only needed a shot to reaffirm my Siobhanness.

St Patties.

Twas that time of year again. My favorite day after my birthday it was recently discovered that Thanksgiving, Christmas and Halloween are all tied for third. Anyway the day started off as any average irish holiday. A shot of Jameson. As a Sullivan family tradition on St. Patrick's day before breakfast there must be whiskey in the system. I used to be forced to do Bailey's before I was old enough to tough out the real stuff but now it's Jameson.

So my morning started off right. This was also before my phone took a sprite bath. After some very long classes I started the fantastic walk home. Its a funny thing that when you walk with a smile on your face, people think you are a straight up freakkkkkk. So people looking at me like I'm crazy I bounce all the way home to get dressed. A few whiskey drinks, some makeup and a straightener later I was ready to party. Unfortunately I wasn't in the correct state to put a lid on my waterbottle filled with sprite soooooo my phone went swimming. Luckily I am the one person in the world who has an Iphone backup despite its cracked as shit screen. Disaster averted. Now my phone is nice in a bag of rice (that totally rhymed) waiting to recover. 

A few things happened later, only a few of which I actually remember on my own. Two car bombs after way to many shots, yelling at a friend for being rude to a girl, I got locked out apparently and went to bed on my roommates couch only to be woken up later by my wonderful megan to bring me upstairs to bed. All of which were not in my memory. 

Oh I also fell asleep while peeing. 

Basically every year I rage far to hard to begin my day with, pass out early and miss my favorite day of the year. Ahhhhhh such a catch 22. 

I went to class still drunk the next day, despite my long ass sleep. 

In all seriousness though, my thoughts and prayers go out to everyone who is hurting from the shooting that night. 

The Take Over

This will be quite short because it is happening NOW. After class just now I came to the UMC for some lunch and studying. The UMC isn't quiet by any means but I can usually get a table and get shit done. After getting lunch I lucked out and found a nice empty table for me to spread out on. As I sit down an Irish string band starts up... literally. No worries I can put in headphones and still focus. As I'm sitting a hippy in green and a hippy in white begin talking right beside me.
Green hippy: It's pretty crowded today
White hippy: Well we could sit over there (looking towards windows)
Green hippy: Or we could just ask her
I kept my head down hoping that my pretend ignorance would save me from having to be polite. No such luck.
Green hippy: Can we sit here with you?
Me: Yeah for sure *big fake grin* (what I really wanted to say is "No, I'm trying to study and you probably smell").
So the two hippies sit down. My spread out space shrinks. I adjust. A few minutes later another hippy in black shows up, now I'm surrounded. My space went from  my whole table to one fourth of the table. Not only am I surrounded by hippies that are completely invading my space, but they have newspapers, and now they are spreading them out and doing crosswords. Really hippies really? Not only have you invaded my personal space but now you are relaxing in my bubble..... Oh and they have their own personal mugs. I don't know why this is important but it bothers me.

UPDATE: I can't leave I'd be surrendering to their crafty hippy maneuvers. And they are talking about Rhinoceroses and sex. Seriously.

UPDATE: There are now at least 5 open tables and green hippy and hippy in black are still camped out at my table... bouncing it around ruining my handwriting.

Mexico

When I was a Senior in high school my parents made the very poor choice and let me go to Mexico for spring break. There was a group of 5 of us and a "Chaperone" I use the quotes because as much as my parents wanted to believe that there would always be an adult around, there really wasn't. I'm pretty sure our "chaperone" bought some weed and spent the whole trip blazed on the beach. This was careful planning on the part of the high schoolers. We knew he would not stay out to the wee hours of the morning with us and that was the plan. We were trying to get into as much trouble as possible. After making it through the airport with only small issues we arrived at the promise land, where drinking was legal and we were free.
Naturally the first thing we did was get booze. After plenty of drinks our little high school hearts were feeling rambunctious and we had an elevator stairs race.
"I'm not drunk" I hollered carrying a bright pink drink in one hand and a bright blue drink in the other. So we started running and true to form... I ate shit. In my mind it went something like this.
Woah stair snake, it just bit me and now I'm falling.
 Shit I can't waste the drinks.
SAVE THE DRINKS!!!
Unfortunately I did not save the drinks and I ended up with pink and blue sticky syrup and tequila in my eyes and on my face.
It was like alcoholic mace
AHHHHHHH
I thought I would never see again. Fortunately I could see again ten minutes later.
After a shower and horrible food which could have easily been dog in a mexican sauce we were out for the evening.
A cab ride with Ana Kornicovas boyfriend (our cab driver) we arrived at the club and began our drinking. As far as I remember I got thrown up on and drank a lot. Also the bartenders stole my shoes when I did body shots. Yeah I was that trashy drunk white girl and I was loving every second of it.
After the first night of drinking I was wounded and shoeless. The only thing I learned was no tengo zapatos porque baracchas. That means I don't have shoes because I'm drunk. I use that phrase far more than I anticipated.

Horror Movies

There is a reoccurring theme when I watch scary movies. The night starts off with me feeling ballsy I'm like fuck yeah lets watch a scary movie I will not be terrified later tonight. After the opening credits, which always have scary music I'm like, humm okay this isn't so bad I think I might be able to handle it. After the first murder scene I'm just like FUCK my eyes are the size of plates and I'm straight hugging myself. By the third disgusting bloody scene I'm hiding my face in my hands counting down the minutes till the minutes on the dvd player match what I just read on the back of the case. By the end of the movie I'm like jesus christ I'm about to get murdered by some zombie, imaginary ghost, psycho killer. At about that point the person I'm with is like

Friend: "Hey uh are you okay?"

Me: "Ya uh sure" my mind consumed with what is about to jump out at me

Then starts the true terror. Alone time. 

I say goodbye and walk to my car, my head bobbing like one of those dash board doggies seeing if anyone is following me. I get my keys out unusually early so there is no fumbling. I unlock my car, jump in, lock it right back up, this way no one has time to get in. Then I check the car again just to make sure no ninjas have secretly been in my car waiting for days.
As I drive home I have images of men with chainsaws jumping out in front of me, or some nails someone threw in the road popping my tires. By the time I have to decide which way to go up my hill I'm completely irrational. I go by pure instinct because obviously my good instincts will save me in any horror movie.
Things get even worse when I get to my house the small walk from my car up the stairs and in the house is now the longest obstacle course ever. I have to make sure that no one is sneaking up behind the car, that no one is hiding under the stairs and that no wild animals are in the dogs yard. I sprint up the stairs flailing all of my things around just in case something dares try to get me I'll whack it with my computer bag and boom I win (there was also a short period of time where I would honk, in case of bears).  I get in my house and immediately lock all the doors and check the rooms... everywhere but the basement. If there is something in the basement I'm straight fucked. By the time I feel safe every single light in the entire house is on and I'm curled up on the couch thinking about the monstrosity that I just watched. My brave proud feeling I had when I first began this miserable journey is absolutely gone. Finally I get the courage to go to bed, surrender to whatever killer is hiding in the house. I have a specific pattern for the lights so I'm never truly in the dark. Washing my face is always scary I don't want to close my eyes then something is popping up in the mirror. To combat this, I wash one half of my face at a time, always keeping one eye open. I enter my room, luckily my closet doesn't have a door so I can always tell if it is safe or not. Here comes the grand finale... I take three long bounds and leap onto my bed, relief that nothing grabbed my ankle from under the bed (The Sixth Sense I blame you for that one). Shivering under the covers I realize that something that should have taken 30 minutes to get home and go to bed in reality took an extra hour and I vow to never watch a scary movie again.

On a completely unrelated note, everyone should follow me on this blog thing, because it makes me feel good. Yeah. 

Dermatologist

It is a widely known fact that I am a true ginger. I have all the ginger qualities, red hair, white skin, freckles, no soul, the works. When it comes to my red hair I am obsessed, I would never want to be blonde or brunette (no offense to any of them). I think my freckles are adorable and I really do have a soul, just like the ginger in the youtube video. My only issue is with my pasty white skin. I pretty much glow in the dark. I have done everything humanly possible to change this, except go reverse Michael Jackson. Unfortunately for me, that leads to skin damage.

It was a normal night at work when BAM I was informed that my life was in danger.

Boss: What is that on your arm

Me (snapping out of whatever daydream I was in): Uh I dunno a mole.

Boss: That looks like cancer. 

Me: Oh it's fine I have had it for a long time.

Boss: A 15 year old girl died in *Some town in Colorado* from melanoma. 

Me: Well shit..... *long pause*...... are you saying I'm going to die. 

Boss: No but go to the dermatologist. 

Me: Okay I'll call my mom. (No real intention of calling my mom)

Boss: Siobhan, write it down so you don't forget I'm serious about this. 

Me: Fine (I'll really call my mom)

Boss: Let me see your legs ( looks at every freckle and mole) Okay seriously go get a full body look over. 

Me: Okay jeeze stop scaring me.

I was now convinced I was going to die so the next morning I called my mom.

Mom: Hello?

Me: I'm going to die.

Mom: Okay? Why?

Me: I have skin cancer, can I go to the dermatologist?

Mom: You have health insurance honey, use it. 

I then scheduled a dermatologist appointment for as soon as I possibly could which was a week later. My entire week had a black shadow of looming death above it. When I got to the dermatologist I realized I was not going to immediately keel over and die, I simply needed a mole removed and I needed to keep an eye on the other ones to make sure they didn't morph into some sort of monster mole that was going to eat me with it's cancer. 

I made an appointment to go get the thing sliced off my arm. The next tuesday rolls around and I am up at 7 am to go get chopped up.... okay maybe chopped up is an exaggeration but still. So I arrived at Wardenburg to wait here

Then they called my name, which of course they said wrong Seeobahaaaannnnn Saaaaiiiiooooobhhhaaaaannnnnn. To which of course I dutifully get up and go correct them. Then through the maze that they call hospitals. I'm not really sure why hospitals/medical clinics always end up looking like the maze at the end of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, are they trying to keep you in? It's extremely concerning. Anyway, I get there and do some more waiting here

I also don't understand the amount of waiting they make you do at the doctors. Like seriously if I wanted to waste hours of my life I would just go get drunk and hoola hoop. Normally, if my mom would have been there we would have been going through the drawers like these

or these

but I was here alone this time so I wasn't feeling ballsy. See when my mom and I go, we look through all the medical shit to see what they are hiding, if there are any human heads or creepy shit like that, we will know were about to get murdered. Anyway off came my gross mole and skin cancer and in went three stitches. I even kind of got to watch which was really cool. So now I go in two weeks from now to find out what it was anddddd to get my stitches out. Oh but this is what my arm looks like now

I also told everyone I had stitches and didn't tell anyone why so now in peoples imagination I'm a bad ass fighter.... at least thats what I hope they are thinking. 

Denver Part 1: Yum Yum

It is an unfortunate trend that whenever I take personal responsibility to maneuver my way around Denver something goes horribly wrong. In the past year there are three different incidents that are quite entertaining but far to long to write all three at once.
For spring break last year I wanted to go back to Glenwood, as many people know my saab aside from being a metal box of death sometimes works and sometimes is a piece of shit. At this particular time in my life it was sitting in the driveway missing it's battery. So I was going to take a bus.

In theory this was simple, hop the bx to denver then catch the greyhound to Glenwood about an hour later.
False.
The trip started off wrong, as I was standing at the crosswalk to go to the bus station (It was beginning to be a pretty bad snow storm) I got splashed by a car. You know when in movies the sad sad person is standing in the rain and the gross water goes everywhere... yeah that happened. So I get on the bus. Lots of people get on the bus. It was pretty much totally full. About 20 minutes into the ride, the bus stopped. Remember the nasty snow storm I mentioned right up there ^ yeah it was really bad.
One hour passes
Two hours pass now the likelihood of my catching the second bus was getting slimmer I call mom.
Me: I'm going to miss the next bus
Mom: Shit, okay uh we'll figure it out
Three hours pass when I hear something from behind me. The something sounded like "Yum Yum"
From behind me: Yum Yum
Remember all the seats are full....
"Yum Yum..... SUCK MY BALLS"
The creepy Yum Yum noises from behind me were now escalating to suck my balls and I was pretty sure there was no oral sex or anything going on behind me. So I looked. Just as I expected homeless man.
Homeless Man: YUM YUM SUCK MY BALLS
This was it, I was going to die. Yum Yum behind me was about to make me suck his balls then murder me. I was terrified.
Three more hours passed, the yum yum still going behind me. Now I was going to be murdered and if not I was going to be stranded in Denver with no place to stay. Luckily mommy came to the rescue and it turned out yum yum was really into the dude sitting beside me.
For most people when they get stranded in a city they stay at a La Quinta or something but not in my family. The Sullivans have a strange addiction to nice hotels. Therefore I ended up at the Hyatt. This room was the amazing. California King Feather Top bed, Room Service, Huge Ass TV. All that was missing were strippers and coke or something like that. In the Morning I got the best buffet known to man. Luckily most of my escapades in Denver end up happy, this is one of them, slumbering in the most comfortable bed ever watching sit-coms. Ah the good life.

Bumble Bees

So since I just made this blog I'm a little obsessed, also I want to share with the internet how truly terrifying bee's are. For most people bee stings are simply a little painful annoyance. Unfortunately for me they turn me into a swollen creature that looks something like a woodland creature but is actually really gross.
It began on a wednesday afternoon, I know it was a wednesday afternoon because A) it was very traumatic B)It was the farmers market. So there I am at the salsa stand when a damn bee buzzes up and latches onto my eyelashes. I flail and swat at my face managing to only get stung once right under my right eye. I know I'm allergic to bees but I was trying to be optimistic and was like:
"maybe this will only swell up a little" to my roommates who were like "Uh yeah.
Jilian, one of my roommates was like "Hey I need to make a hair appointment can we stop before we go home"
I was like "sure", trying to be optimistic that my face would stop swelling by this point it was just slightly swollen, I could still keep my eyes open and I didn't look like a mutant yet. So we stop by the salon and Jilian runs in, during the course of about ten minutes I guess my eye went from slightly swollen to HOLY SHIT.
Megan (on the phone to Jilian): "uh dude we have to go home, Siobhan can't see out of her eye anymore, it's like swollen shut"
I do know that they love me but this was to much, my pain and swelling was turning into the funniest thing they had witnessed. Trying to not laugh we made it home where I popped Benadryl   after Benadryl to no success
It was time to call mom
Me: mom, I got stung by a bee and my face is swelling up badly
Mom: How bad?
Me: Get on Skype
Mom (now looking on skype): Holy Shit
My logic was that I would sleep and it would be better, my optimism overcoming my fear.
It didn't work
The next day, my glorious roommates invite the boys from upstairs so they could come see the puffed up version of my face.
Roommates: You have to see Siobhan's face.
Me: You guys are ass holes. Then I hid in my room.
Also that night I made waffles.
So the next day I had a class that I had been really lazy about so I could no longer miss. So I put on a hat and tried to hide my face the best I could...
It didn't work
I got stared at, I looked like a creature from the black lagoon. Luckily for one of my friends my deformation helped her. In comparison to me and my balloon face, she looked hot. The guy she like stopped by and was like AH! creature from the black lagoon... Damn Kaelee you are far hotter than your usual smokin self. After a few days of optimism I gave up and went to the hospital.
Doctor: Wow. You almost need an epi-pen. You should have come in right away.

My optimism almost killed me. So you know what it looked like, here... notice the optimistic deformed smile. Moral of the story, if the swelling spreads through your nose and into your mouth... go to the hospital.

Then I Made a Blog

So last night after some hula hooping and day drinking (which kind of go hand in hand) there were a few of us hanging out and drinking. This is fairly natural since my life legitimately consists of drinking and what amount of school I can fit in. Anyway, my friend Laura (she is fun) was like:
 "Siobhan if we could write about our stories they would be the funniest thing ever."
Then my friend Austin was like:
"Siobhan and my stories would be even funnier." or something like that because I'm not sure because like I said I started drinking at 5. So then in my mind I was like wow I do crazy funny things I should write them down because I have a really bad memory.  So after Austin, Nima and Kristin got in a tussle (Kristin came out with a bloody lip) we went to Del Taco then I literally sprinted home.

Then today I was sitting in the bowling alley where I work and not doing my geology homework or my job I was like:
Hey Siobhan what about that argument over who has funnier crazier stories with you.
So I started a blog.
I promise to try to keep it funny, I think that is an achievable goal. The highlight of my day was wearing a tie dyed buffalo shirt. It's not mine it's Kristin's but wearing other peoples clothes is more fun than wearing your own shirt.

 There was a singing duck in our fridge. A roommate put it in there. Don't worry we took it out.

This was when I was drunk... in case I found the cat. I would want it to go back to it's appropriate owner. 

Also I should explain the name, I think that tequila is kind of self explanatory. I'd wake up and drink tequila if it wasn't frowned upon socially. However Teddy aka Theodore is my bear. He's not real don't worry but as a child he might as well have been. He is no ordinary bear though when my parents would make him "talk" he had a very foul mouth. He was also very anxious, road trips were hard for him because driving scared him (or my mother). Anyway he is awesome and he still lives with me even though I'm considered an adult. So my foul mouthed mangy bear is in the title of my blog. I hope this lives up to everyones expectations.

UPDATE: I did not steal this cat... my sister asked me if I did and no I'm not a cat bandit.