James and I own a teeny tiny restaurant in a really, really old building. The plumbing is stupid, as most plumbing in old buildings is. I don't want to get into too many details, but about an hour after I got to work tonight I smelled like a sewer, I was covered in black sludge, my lips were blue and I had bar towels taped around my feet. I went in the bathroom and scrubbed some of the black sludge off of me, and doused myself in diffuser oil to cover the smell. As I walked out, one of our customers stopped me...
"What's going on with your feet?"
"Oh...see it's this thing wi-"
"Whatever. You look like you have tampons on your feet."
And she walked away.
I looked down...
...and I looked like I had giant tampons on my feet.
And I smelled like cinnamon apple crap.
I think this is why Oprah has never called me.
She's scared of the stupid that follows me everywhere I go.
Ok, I know that Oprah's not REALLY related to me. And I know that Awesome the First isn't REALLY Horatio Caine. However, when your full grown FBI agent of a son, who lived in your stomach for 90 some odd months and probably has super powers because that's almost unheard of these days...like seriously, I think only people related to Moses had pregnancies as long as mine...anyway...
I totally forgot my point. I think it probably had something to do with the fact that he's my kid and I can call him Horatio Caine if I want to. And also he's probably got super powers. And also, Oprah and I are probably going to be such great friends by the end of this year, that people will mistake us for sisters. Therefore...and ergo...Hence...if I've been away from my blog for a very long time and all of the sudden I show back up, it makes perfect sense for me to call my comeback "The Winfrey-Caine Family Reunion." Because of all of that stuff that I just told you about.
Anyway, here's what happened: I went to school to become a doctor and then I decided that I didn't want to be a doctor, because I'm artsy. But I still kinda wanted to do doctor type things, so I worked for a tissue bank. Then the entire world fell into this economic black hole and all of the sudden my really great job was practically non-existent. So I went on hiatus and went back to waiting tables while I tried to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Then, when I was chatting with my boss one day about weddings and such, she casually mentioned that they needed a wedding planner...which of course, I was all,"OOOOOH!! Let me do it! I'll plan the BEST wedding for you ever because I'm ARTSY!" And she kind of looked at me funny because she's really not into artsy wedding type stuff and also she doesn't even have a wedding date picked or anything and apparently what she was talking about wasn't even close to what I thought she was talking about...I mean, it was, but not really. Anyway, turns out that the restaurant that I worked at also runs this beautiful, historic banquet facility and they needed a new "Supreme Director of Everything and Beyond" and since I have a biology degree, I was an obvious choice for the job. So, for the past two months I've been perfecting my position as "Ultimate Fighting Event Planning Warrior Champion," which is why I've been neglecting all of you guys and the Winfrey-Caine family. I'm sorry. Planning weddings and receptions is hard. For real. Like, J. Lo is really on my bad side because "The Wedding Planner" is a HUGE lie. First, no way does she have time to sit in a park every week, watching old movies, swingin' her legs to and fro, while picking brown m&ms out of the package. Also, no way does she have time to even think about planning her own wedding, even if it is at the courthouse. Also, people get married EVERY SINGLE WEEKEND, so I'm not sure where she found the time to be all showered and manicured and pretty and stuff and why she wasn't answering her phone every ten minutes and how she could even think about falling in love with somebody else's fiance, especially when she's so super tired because during the summer, PEOPLE GET MARRIED EVERY SINGLE WEEKEND.
Eff you, J.Lo, you're a big old liar and we're not friends anymore, and yes, I AM going to tell Oprah about this.
So, in a nutshell: The Winfrey-Caine family is still strong and still a force to be reckoned with, I am not a doctor, my son probably has super-powers, I have a new job that I love, and finally...Jennifer Lopez is a liar and I'm probably going to write a song about it very soon.
Ok, so...I was going to try and convince you guys that that whole octopus/shark/secret agent thing happened to me AGAIN and that that was why I hadn't been around for so long, but that would be lying and I think that we can all agree that lying totally doesn't suit me...I mean, it's pretty clear that honesty is practically my middle name and besides, no way are you guys going to buy that all of that stuff happened to me twice. So...the truth is...I've just been working a lot.
(These pants are on fire. Mine aren't. Because honesty is practically my middle name. Just like I told you.)
I went on hiatus from my job with the tissue bank because they got smacked in the face with the recession or some such nonsense, and I was on call all of the time but I was never working and Awesome the First hasn't moved out yet and between him and James, they're going to eat me out of house and home so I had to do SOMETHING and that something was going back to my old gig waiting tables. Which is fine - I'm pretty much awesome at it and people practically throw tips at me...except James and I are still building this new bar/restaurant and so we're both working there all of the time PLUS, I'm still doing all of this jewelry and hair stuff. Basically, I work a trillion hours a week and you guys should ease up on me a little bit because my feet really hurt and I have a weird muscle twitch in my back which won't go away and also, I'm kind of sleepy a lot.
The cool thing is - I meet great people at the bar. Nobody ever talks about politics or religion or bangs their glass on the bar for me to get them another whiskey or gets mad at me because there's no Waylon Jennings on the jukebox or throws up all over the place or anything. Seriously. I'm not lying.
Customer #1: What is that? Are you reading Twilight? Me: Uh...no. That's not mine...I mean...ok, but I have a really good reason... Customer #2: You're actually a 17 year old girl? Me: It was James' fault. He made me do it. James: I made you turn into a 17 year old girl? Customer #1: I don't think 17 year old girls are allowed to own bars. You might need to leave. James: Oooh! Yeah! You should go and leave the grown-ups alone! Me: Ok, but seriously, wait because this is what happened and it really WAS James' fault!
Me: So, anyway, I saw the first movie..with James, I might add...and also, James said that Edward was totally dreamy so he's also a 17 year old girl- James: Oh pleas- Me: Shut up, yes you did, you said he was dreamy...and anyway, then the second movie came out and James rented it without me and it was a 48 hour rental and so I watched it because it was there and we'd already paid for it and everything and at the end, the dreamy dude is all, "Marry me, angsty girl," and then the credits rolled and I was all, "hey! what the hell?" so I'm reading the books to find out what happened because I'm impatient. Customer #1: That's fair. Customer #2: Ok, you're not a 17 year old girl. Me: But you know....I went on ancestry.com and found out I really AM part Scottish and that got me thinking about how I'm a Highlander and probably immortal and all- James: Oh my G- Me: I'm not dead, so you can't prove that I'm NOT immortal. Customer #2: She has a point. Me: Right. Thank you. So anyway, I'm thinking that with my Scottish immortality, and reading all of this vampire stuff, that if I could somehow combine DNA from tortoises and nigerian marathon runners, or something...I mean, I could be really awesome. Customer #2: Ok...tortoises for the anti-aging properties and the marathon runners for the speed...do you need to sparkle, though? Me: Not really. I mean, I could always eat glitter, but I'm good without the sparkles. Customer #1: You need jellyfish. Customer #2: Why does she need jellyfish? Customer #1: Because there are these jellyfish that for some reason don't lose their telomeres or something, which is part of their DNA, and as long as their environment is stable, they don't die. So you need jellyfish telomeres. James: You shouldn't encourage her. Customer #2: I think she can do it. I think it's a good idea. Me: And I already have a microscope...I'm practically halfway there. Customer #2: Plus, if you start combining your DNA with jellyfish, maybe some of the immortal jellyfish are also the bioluminescent kind and then you wouldn't need to sparkle...because you could GLOW. Me: Oh man...I'm gonna be the coolest person I know. James: Thanks guys...thanks a lot. Customer #1: Anytime.
Everything in this blog is copyright Jessica Benassi AKA Hey Lola except where I give credit to other people because obviously, that's their stuff. Don't steal my stuff. I mean, I'm not sure why you would want to, anyway, but if you're thinking about it...don't. Also, all of this nonsense is my opininion and is not supported or endorsed by Blogger or anyone ese. I mean, maybe it is, but if something I say just infuriates you, I take sole responsibility.
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