Dear Crabby

Hey Squares. We need to go ahead with another "Yes or No" version of Crabby this week. I babysat until late tonight (am I 16 years old?) and am supes drained after entertaining a 6, 3 and 1 year old. My "lets give Pharon a massage and brush her hair while she half-a$$es her way through a shadow puppet show" isn't cuttin' it anymore. So, let's see what easy questions we've got in the mail bag this week...

Dear Crabby,
Do you think marijuana should be legalized? 
Thanks bro,
People Over Think How Evil All Drugs (Are)


Dearest POTHEAD (A),
Sure.
P.S. SO close with the clever name...SO close.

Dear Crabby,
Help! What's the best way to get red wine out of a dress?? FAST! I wanna wear it to a wedding this weekend, but forgot that I had "too much fun" at a wedding a few weeks ago and spilled all over myself! What should I do?
Hurry hurry hurry,
Out Damn Spot!


Hi, ODS!
Try this. You're welcome.


Dear Crabby,
Which do you think is scarier: a shark that can set fires and is an arsonist or a man on bath salts eating faces who also makes the world's best red velvet cakes?
On the edge of my seat,
Scaaaaary!


Wassup, Scaaaaary?!
The bath salts man. Definitely.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand that's a wrap. Good show, everyone. See you at the wrap party!! For those of you who still have questions that only I, a genius advice-giver, can answer, shoot an email through cyberspace to arrive in my the email inbox of one pharonsquare@gmail.com. Say word...

Old Home

Me: I miss living with Claire
Geo: She's a good friend.
Me: No, I REALLY miss living with Claire
Geo:...[plays on iPhone]

You guys? I miss living with Claire! For the first time since I moved away, I went back to Claire's house tonight while Geo golfed. I walked back into her house and smelled all the familiar smells and knew right where to find the paper towels. It felt more like home than where I live now. Is that bad?

We chatted about nothing. Seriously. We talked for like an hour about how nothing has changed. But, as the night went on, I realized how truly homesick I was. I wandered through my old room. Tracing my fingers across banisters and counters. Staring into familiar mirrors and reflexively ducking my head around the sloped ceilings.

About an hour in to my visit, we starting cooking with fire. We got into some deep conversations about our hopes and dreams for our relationships and life and weekends. It was the most refreshing conversation I've had lately. Not only did she NOT make fun of me for my irrational fear of not having enough appetizers for the upcoming cabin weekend, but she actually offered several solutions. YAY GIRL FRIENDS!

Anyway, I made a list of reasons why I miss living at Claire's house. Here we go:

 * Not one, but TWO bathrooms, guaranteeing privacy. As it is now, Geo hears every eyebrow-pluck. Every everything. I hate bathrooms.
* Claire HAS CABLE. I forced her to watch Comedy Central and FX because I don't have the luxury of hilarity.
* Not only could we scroll through a GUIDE telling us what was ON TV, but we never saw one commercial. NOT ONE. God bless DirecTV.
* When I made a casual comment about communism, Claire calmly and clearly explained to me what communism actually IS. She never once exclaimed "HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW WHAT COMMUNISM IS?!" She knew I knew, but wanted to enlighten me on how to best use it as an insult.
* We sat outside while she grilled dinner. There are two awesome things here. One? We SAT OUTSIDE. Birds chirped. Squirrels played in the trees. And the smoky scent of BBQ intoxicated everyone in a 50 yard radius.
* When I complained about what kickboxing was doing to my legs (making them stronger - and BIGGER) she gave me the kind of affirmation I had craved. She noticed my haircut. She asked me if I had lost weight. It was all the girlie affirmation I needed to come home and NOT eat cupcakes for dinner.
* Claire still listens to music from the 1940s. On records. I used to make fun of her, but then I texted Geo about a song he played me. I was all "RUDE! It's not on iTunes! How do I get it?!" And he was all "Ugh, it's a very complicated online download digital process."
* Not once was I judged when I wanted to watch terrible - and HILARIOUS - shows on Comedy Central. Read: Futurama
* At the end of the night, Claire offered me eyeshadows, lipshades and a turkey corndog for the road

So, I'm pretty sure I need to move back in with Claire.

Size Matters

Okay, so last summer, my brother Perek lost his wedding ring in the lake at my parents cabin and still hasn't found it. He even brought his scuba equipment out to find it, with no luck. So when we were there this past weekend, I kept having these visions of my engagement ring drifting down into the murky depths and I just took it off for the whole weekend. I decided it was time to finally get my ring sized so it doesn't slip off my finger and into Finding Nemo's mouth. 

Wait, SIZED or RESIZED? 

Turns out, that was one of the most confusing questions in all of jewelry-dom. I thought I would take about 15 minutes to run to the store, have 'em size me and call me tomorrow when it was ready to be picked up. Spoiler alert: I was wrong in every way.

Okay, so I did my best to look and smell as broke as I am so that the vultures at the store would leave me alone, but that only sort of worked. I walked in, and said "Hi. I need my ring sized." 

The dude said "Sized or REsized?" 

I said "There's a difference?"

He laughed condescendingly before ushering me over to the bridal jewelry section. He said "Oooh, I can tell you've had this ring for some time. Have you considered a new band?"

I said "Um. I got it in March. From here. If it's already as worn as you think it is, I should maybe consider asking for a refund."

We shared a very polite and awkward laugh before he led me far, far away from the bridal jewelry.

So, he slips some other rings on and says "Well, whaddya think?" I was all "Um, I don't know, what size am I?" He laughs again (did I miss a joke?) and says "Oh, well, YOU need to tell ME that!" I said "Um, okay, well, the 5 feels a little tight and the 4 1/2 feels a little tighter. Which do I choose?" And he said "Well, do you want a little tight or a little tighter?"

I nearly turned and walked of the store just then. Instead, I said "Well, I guess the 5. You don't have anything in between?" He said "No," (which was a LIE!) "I'm sure you're a 5. Probably. You can bring it back in if it's still too big." I said "I'd really like to avoid that."

More uncomfortable laughing.

Okay, we decide on the 5 and he's asking me all my information. When I spell my name - P.H.A.R.O.N for anyone new around here - a woman sidles up to him and nods, knowingly.

Woman: Travis, are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Travis (apparently): Totally!

Me: ... [I say nothing because I couldn't care less about what these two are thinking.]

Woman and Travis, simultaneously: THE INITIAL PENDANT!

What they said next is very, VERY real. 

Woman: Listen, I couldn't help but overhearing your wonderful name!

Me: Thanks. I love it!

Woman: So, I shouldn't tell you this, but we have this A-MAY-ZING white gold pendant with an initial on it that was $160 but is marked down to $20!!!!

Travis: Oh, Suzy is right! It's a crazy-good deal. You can't pass this up. 

Suzy (apparently): One small thing, though. The initial is an F. But you could totally pass for an F!

I'll let that sink in.

I politely decline while banging my head against the counter. I say "I'm in more of a gold phase right now, but thanks. Also, people are already confused enough about my name, so I shouldn't make it worse." Then Suzy says "Well, you could TELL people it's an F, like as a joke!" and Travis helpfully adds, "Oooh! Or a nickname!"

Ugh. WHAT?! 

I say no, and try to get things moving by not-so-subtly picking my nose. That seems to do the trick and they tell me my ring will be ready in a short THREE WEEKS. Because I seriously believed they would replace my diamond with a letter F in that time, I tell them that's too long and go to a different location, with much MUCH saner workers who assured me the sizing (I am a 4 3/4, like I suspected) would be done this week, sans initials of any kind.

The moral of the story is that Travis and Suzy are the worst things about everything.

Thick Skin

Here's all you need to know about this weekend.

Me: Man, I wish my head and arms were on the other way...like backwards, you know?
Geo: ....
Me: You know, 'cause my back is peeling pretty badly and I can't really see or reach it, but if my head and arms were on the other way, I could pick it all off.
Geo: ...

Wait, that doesn't make sense to you either? FINE. I'm the freak, I guess...

I went to my parents' cabin this weekend with Geo, my parents, my brothers and their wives. As usual, it was a great time. Lots of good food, family, fun, alcohol before noon...it was a super perfect way to spend a crazy-hot, sunny weekend. So, I was determined to get some color. I chilled on the boat, I floated around on a raft, I did anything I could to be in the sun. Every time I'd come in from the sun, I said the same thing.

"Ugh. My skin hurts. I have GOT to stay out of the sun."

And then I'd go back out, burning myself over and over. Thus, the peeling.

So, I've been periodically, uh, TENDING to my shedding skin. It's like when you used to smear Elmer's glue on your palm, let it dry and then peel it off. SO SATISFYING. Anyhoozle, Geo has been playing Xbox in the other room and I've been in my room, watching an unhealthy amount of Law and Order: SVU. He walked in to see what I had been up to and said "What? Why do you look guilty?" 

I shrugged my half-peeled shoulders and said "I have no idea what you're talking about." He saw my increasingly pinked skin, shook his head, walked away and said "Ugh. You have a serious problem. Stop peeling!"

I canNOT be the only one who peels my peeling skin. If I AM then you guys have no idea what you're missing. Is it gross? Probably. But whatever! What am I supposed to do? Slough it off like a snake? Like in one big piece? No, duh. I'm not a snake. I'm a human. A human who wishes her torso was on backwards so she could simply just peel skin. Is that so crazy?

You're TWO much!!!!!

Oh. Mah. Gah! You guys! I COMPLETELY neglected to notice that on June 20th, my blog officially turned TWO YEARS OLD! On that day, I was tending to Dear Crabby and totes forgot to celebrate!  So, I held a fun and surprising Birthday Party for my blog! It was sooooooo cute, you guys! The blog was such a good sport about me sort of forgetting the big T.W.O. and we had a crazy fun party together! Here's some pics!

Here's me and the blog blowing out the candles...

Then we sat and reminisced about our favorite blogs over the past year. Like the one about my engagement? Awww...and remember the one about me trying to learn about money? Hysterical!

Then I gave my blog an adorable, awesome gift (that you TOO can purchase here)!!

After the cake and presents, my blog wanted to unwind with a grown-up beverage.

Then things got pretty rocky, you guys. My blog started Facebook-stalking her ex. Ugh.

My blog was crying and blabbering on about her ex's new skank of a girlfriend and how her ex TOTALLY had work done. Then. This.

After that little setback, my blog got really really motivated and ambitious. Reflecting on the last year, we saw some serious dud posts, and my drunk blog wanted to make sure that never happened again.

We decided it was maybe time to hit the hay. My blog was starting to wax nostalgic about old versions of Blogger and how much has changed in the past year, and I was sick of listening to my blog cry about "All the good times and posts that probably changed lives." So, we called it a night.

Triple Show Cow

So, I took two showers today. Why is that important, you ask? It's not. Um, is ANYTHING I put on here important? Moving on... 


Listen, I took two showers today because it is hotter than Hades here. Despite the fact that I have it FREEEEEE central air (OMG, I mean, I THINK it's free...suddenly that doesn't sound right. Whatevs), I got overheated just looking outside. I wanted to walk to the coffee shop this morning, and as I looked out onto the street, it already had those wavy heat lines goin' on. At 8 a.m. It was going to be a scorcher. Plus, my skin is still on fire from the sunburn.

So I thought it was a good idea to take an ice cold triple show cow. (That's what Kim and I call "showers" when we REALLY need one...it rhymes with "triple salchow" which is like the most awesome women's ice skating move ever and makes everyone all impressed). Despite perfectly executing my show cow, I stepped outside and I caught on fire.

Turns out, Dunn Bros Internet hates me and wouldn't let me on. So, I had to go BACK outside and walk the traumatic 3/4 of a block back to my house. The sole of my flip flops had melted onto the pavement and it was all I could do to make it back to my house without my laptop exploding in the desert heat. About 8 hours later, I wrapped up a successful day of work, forgetting all about the hell outside.

My short memory is the only reason I made it to kickboxing tonight. I walked outside, stopped breathing for a few minutes, and made it to my car. Which was roughly the same temperature as Satan's mouth. I nearly went back to my apartment, convinced that the amount I had already sweated was the same as working out for 70 minutes. But, I couldn't get out of my car because my hands had already melted onto the steering wheel.

See, now here's what TRULY makes me an idiot. After I worked out, I went grocery shopping before coming back home. While strolling through the grocery store, I decided that I would make a very healthy dinner. It never occurred to me that to make it, I would have to crank my stove up to 450 degrees and cook it for like a billion minutes. In fact, I didn't realize what I had done until Geo called out from the other room "Is it just me, or is, like, SUPER hot in here?" I was about to say it was just him and call him a wuss or something, until I realized I was still sweating from kickboxing..because I hadn't executed my second triple show cow yet.Gross.

Thus, the second shower. However, I'm still ON FIRE because my skin burns hurt from all the showering, and I can't stop watching Girls on my computer, so it too is a billion degrees. Everything about everything is hot right now. I'm sleeping in the shower tonight.

Girls

Listen,  I only have a few minutes tonight. I started watching the HBO series show called Girls and I'm afraid that if I don't watch every awesome episode back to back, I will lose my momentum. So, yeah. I gotta get back to that posthaste.

But I had a pretty girly weekend as well, so I figured "Hey, what an appropriate time to blog about it."

Poor Geo. He doesn't come out looking too manly in some of this, but rest assured that he only partook in these activities for my sake. So yeah. Friday night, we stayed in to watch TV. What did we WATCH on TV, you ask? Women's gymnastics, of course.

After that carrrazy night, Geo and I walked around my new 'hood, which consists of loads of antiques shops. And one store that is huge and only sells lamps. Spoiler alert! The lamp store was the boringest place on the planet. But the antique stores were AWESOME. I saw 100 things I wanted to buy. And all of them were weird old things that smelled bad, but I had convinced myself that I was a female American Picker. Geo lasted about 15 minutes in the antiques store before I found him waiting at the door, deciding how to break up with me.

Apparently, he didn't want to stick around to watch my paint my finger nails, RUDE, so Geo ran for the hills as soon as we got home. For some reason, I then decided to do something I haven't done in like a bajillion years. I. Went. On. A. Run. Say whaaaaaaat?! I know, you guys! I KNOW! I am not one of those "I'm going for a run" girls. It's boring. And difficult! So, I NEVER just "go for a run." Ugh, but whatever. I decided that that's what other girls do, and I am a girl so that's what I did. For about 8 minutes. Then I came home and took a nap.

Luckily for Geo, and VERY unluckily for my skin, today I spent the day at Kim's house swimming in her pool. No boys, no sunscreen. The problem is that all the girls I was "swimming" with are like approx 82 pounds soaking wet. So, I spent more time than usual just STANDING in the pool instead of boppin' around outside of the pool. This is important to note because now I look hysterical. I am only sunburned on my face, ears, neck, shoulders, chest, arms and 1/3 of my back. Beneath that? The skin is all still that lovely pale, non-painful white because it was nicely hidden in the water.

But, all in all, it was a great weekend. Painful, but great. How was YOUR weekend?