Monday, June 27, 2011

Another day, Another 4 stitches on my nose.

Already having a bad day on Saturday, I wouldn't have thought my day (night) would get any worse.

Here's the Story.

 I come home from a stressful day of work and all I could think about was my brother's homemade chili that he brought to my house the previous night. I open my refrigerator full of San Carlos' Farmers Market goods and search for the chili. It wasn't there. Cool. My mom's boyfriend must have taken it to work that day. Anyways, I call up my homeboy brother and ask if I could come over to eat some chili at his and Emily's house. Happily, my bro said yeah. So I drive over to their house and eat his delicious chili. Minutes later, I tagged along with the newlyweds to Babies 'R Us and finally was having a better day. I didn't get back home until 10:30 PM. So, I did what I always do, watch South Park. My best friend Kelly told me to watch this episode about Critters and Christmas. Who knew adorable animals were a part of the antichrist.

Anyways, my mom and sister were gone for the majority of the night because of a wedding they had to go to so I was home alone. I was getting sleepy so I brought my sisters dog upstairs with me. If you guys really know me, you know I don't like sleeping in my bed alone. I hopped into my sister's bed and watched another episode of South Park. This time it was one of their most popular episodes, Fish Sticks. PERFECT, I thought to myself, an episode ragging on Kanye West. I hate Kanye, especially what he did to the coolest singer ever, Tay Tay Swiftdog.

 I was getting really tired and Toby, Nicole's dog, was sleeping fur to skin on my left side. I reach in to give the piece of shit a hug and kiss and as I'm going in for the kill, the dog lunged at my face and attacked me. Yup, I got attacked by a little dog. I pushed him off my face as he was mauling my nose and my first reflex was to touch the area he attacked. I look down at the palms of my hands and I couldn't see them because they were filled with my own blood. I hopped out of my sister's bed and ran to the bathroom. A trail of dripping blood followed me on my mother's white carpet. I look into the mirror and my face was covered in blood. "Oh, FUCK" is what I screamed and of course Prima Donna me, cries. I went into panic. My own flesh was drooling out of my nose and making its trail down to my chest and stomach. I leaned over to the sink so I wouldn't make a mess on the floor and the sink was filling up with my blood fast. I was thinking, fucking great, no one is home and I'm losing so much that I'm going to die from loss of blood. My mom is going to find her daughter dead on the bathroom floor with a puddle of blood from under her.

My first instinct, call her. My mom didn't answer. In panic and outbreaks of cries, I decided to call my brother. Didn't answer. Alright, called Emily. As, the phone is slowly ringing, I get a phone call from my brother.

This is how the phone conversation went.

Me- (screaming and crying) Stevie, Toby bit me! I need to go to the hospital!
Stevie- What?
Me- (still screaming and crying) Toby bit me, I need to go to the hospital!
Stevie- I can't hear what you're saying, say it again..
Me- TOBY BIT ME! I NEED TO GO TO THE EMERGENCY!
Stevie- You got stung by a bumble bee?
Me- WHAT?
Stevie- How'd the bumble bee get in the house?
Me- NO!!!!!!!!!!! TOBY BIT ME! I NEED YOU TO DRIVE ME TO THE EMERGENCY!
Stevie- There was a burglary and they stole Toby??
Me- OH MY GOD...
(Stevie passes the phone to Emily)
Emily- Alexandra, what are you saying?
Me- Toby bit me and I need you guys to take me to the hospital, NOW! COME OVER!

Thank God Emily got it the first time.

I get off the phone with them and run into my room with a towel on my nose shielding the blood. The first thing I see, I put on. In no way was I going in just my pajamas. I go to the mirror to see what I looked like before stepping into my brother's car: Platinum blonde extensions, A spray tan that was ruined from the streaks of my blood and tears, and a hot pink Alpha Phi Sorority sweatshirt. Wow, I looked like a college Texan pageant queen who had a football thrown at her nose. Marsha, Marsha, Marsha.

I hear the knocks at the door and dramatically opened it. I said, "Let's go." My brother barged in with his paramedic first aid kit, "Want me to put an I.V. in you?"
Real funny, Stevie. He saw the blood oozing out and performed as an on-the-go doctor. He generously stopped the bleeding and put some gauze on it. My mother finally called back. Emily answered it and told her the story. "OH SHIT! Ok, we'll be home soon. Is she going to go to the hospital? Call Sequoia, Peninsula, Stanford, and Mills to see if any of them are busy." My brother calls, Sequoia and Peninsula. Both busy. My brother didn't even try Stanford, knowing that they are number 1 trauma center on the Peninsula.

An hour goes by and my brother, Emily, and mom are all debating whether to take me to the hospital. I'm still bleeding. The tip of my nose is flapping and the bridge, separating my nostrils, is ripped. Nobody made the executive decision until my mother, drunken sister, and mother's boyfriend came home. One good look from my mom and she says, "We gotta go." Drunk Nicole hops up from the couch and runs upstairs to get changed. "In no way am I going to the hospital in this 80's looking bridesmaid dress."

10 minutes later, we're out the door driving to Mills, which is 20 minutes away from home. Nicole's in the backseat hammered as ever telling us how she doesn't believe in God right now because everyone sucks at life. What a drunk ass.
Finally, we're at the hospital and I get in to see a doctor right away. Im sitting on the hospitals bed and the RN is asking me questions.
Guy Nurse-So any religious preferences?
As I'm about to say Catholic, my drunk ass sister chimes in saying, "JEWISH"... Way to make us look completely intolerable, Nicole.

The doctor comes in and starts asking me questions. Real nice young lady. She looked at my nose and told me I'll need 4 stitches. As she's about to inject me with anesthetic, Ms. Nicole says loudly, "Ali, want to hold my hand? Don't worry; you can squeeze it really hard, I'M DRUNK." God dammit, Nicole, not only do they think we discriminate against Jews, but now they're going to think we're Germans.

I squeeze my sister's hand as the doctor is painfully shooting up drugs through my nose to numb it. 9 shots later, she's stitching up the bridge of my nose with dissolvable string. My mother asks, "How come it dissolves?" The doctor replies, "You don't want to know." Later do I come to find out that it's either pig skin or cat skin. Gross.

3AM rolls by and I'm finally home. I look around my house and it looks like a crime scene in my sister's room and bathroom.
Nicole- "I'm going to throw up, EW. On my pillowcase, Alexandra? GOD!"

That's what you get, Nicole for having an abusive dog.

Thank you Toby for an incredible evening. This night is unforgettable.

Another 'Sarah Palin' On My List

The words of Republican, Michele Bachmann:

Climate change is a hoax, and that because carbon dioxide is a “a natural byproduct of nature”, Americans can pollute all they want.

....alright, Lady. Good Luck with Elections...

Friday, June 24, 2011

Back to Cheeks.

This past week, I went back to my college town in Chico thinking it wouldn't be as crazy as it normally gets during the school year. All I wanted was some relaxation by the pool and some company with my best friends who are currently staying there this summer.
Well, I clearly wasn't thinking. Chico is not the town you would want to relax in. All this town gives you is zero recollection and bonding moments with the toilet the next morning.
Some people like to say that my group of girls are the blackouts. I think they're right. My friends and I don't drink for the social part of it, but for the fun of it. I mean, who doesn't drink for the fun of it?
Anyways, I get into Chico around 5PM on Monday and from what I wanted(relaxation), I got it. No mother telling me to clean my room or barking dogs or even a jackhammer waking me up in the wee hours of the morning. It was just perfect. My best friends, Kelly and Allison, came over my house to watch the Bachelorette. In attempts to drink every time Ashley says the name, Bentley, I failed. Homegirl says his name in every sentence and I wasn't trying to get hammered.
The next day, Tuesday, people were all pumped up because it's Rileys Buck Night. Great, I'm not 21 so I'll probably sit this night out, alone.
YAAAA RIGHT
In the words of J-Kwon, "Teen drinking is very bad, yo i got a fake ID though."
Yup, I have one those. I mean, I have to if all my friends are of age to drink.
So the big issue in Chico is that it's really hard to get into Riley's because they are extremely strict with IDs. This doesn't stop me. I've been to this bar when I was 19. I have this in the bag. They won't turn me down.
And they didn't. I felt like I had conquered many underage drinkers fear. I felt like a champ. I was number 1. Until the next morning.
Ya, I bonded with my toilet.
But the shots and cocktails I had at the bar, led me to the Sigma Chi pool. I got thrown in with my dress on, yet I could care less and I watched the frat boys burn shit and almost their house. Those idiots.
Wednesday rolls by, and, well, another night to drink because it's Crazy Horses buck night. My best friend Bre and I were the only troops to march on for another night of killing our bodies in the treacherous grounds of Chico. I promised myself I wouldn't get too hammered. But, who am I kidding? Drinking with Bre? Girl gets hammski all the time!
Yup, I got hammered. 15 shots and cocktails later and I was peeing alongside with my buddy Bre on a sorority grass, yelling "FUCK YOU ADPI!" I can't tell you the things we did after or show you pictures of that night because my mother will probably read this, but what I will tell you is that this is a night to remember. Thank you, Breanna for your $7.00 purchase and our $10.00 buy.

Welp.

http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/1C2JoV/www.insurance-quotes-for-you.com/You-are-doing-it-wrong.html

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Stumbled on a few Quotes





Beautiful Hero

From dictionary.com the word, hero, is defined:
"A man of distinguished courage or ability, admired for his brave deeds and noble qualities."

My hero is my sister, Nicole. I know it may sound a little too cliché  and doesn't have much originality because almost every sane person is inspired by a family member, but Nicole has always been a person I've looked up to. My mom, you can say, is old fashioned when it comes to raising kids. She never talked to me about things like the birds and the bee's, puberty, or THAT time of the month. No, she never did, but never did I want to hear it from her either. When I first got my period, I went to my sister. When I first started having feelings for a boy, I went to my sister. And when I became interested in the pampering's [makeup, nails, hair, tanning], I went to my sister.

Every little girl needs an older sister, especially, if you've come from a broken home. When I was in 6th grade, my parents got a divorce and since then they haven't spoken to one another. I was too young to understand what was going on and no one would tell me that the parental fighting went from mild to severe. I didn't know this because my sister [and mom] would protect me from it and take in all the crap that had fluctuated. She saw everything. She saw the fighting, the cursing, and the leavings. She even got parts of the verbal abuse (from my dad) when she was growing up. A lot of the hurtful words had really soaked into her head and has bothered her ever since. But, my sister had strength and durability; she delegated herself to listen to my mother when she needed an ear, she secured everyone with warm-heartened arms, and was tough enough to take my father's full verbal force.

My sister was the backbone of the family at this time. A senior in high school and, in my eyes, became woman.

She grew up, fast. Faster than her friends, faster than most kids her age, and faster than the normalcy of an 18 year old.

Me, I'm 20, and I'm still the kid people knew from 8th grade. I haven't changed. But that's because of my sister. Because of her, I still have my innocence, my immaturity, and a normal childhood.

I look up to her so much and I hope she reads this because I never tell her how much she means to me.

Stunning girl, independent, hard worker, caring, respectful, understanding, sociable, intelligent, loving, honest, loyal, humorous, religious, charitable, imaginative, confident, well-mannered, family oriented, stable...
  ...and she is my beautiful hero.

    Me(left), My sister(rightt)
 ♥

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Workaholics

Since I've been back from school, I've been working at a tanning salon. Yes, another diva move. But, this isn't just any normal salon. No, it's my sister-in-laws business. Every family member, every friend of mine, and even every friend of a friend has worked or currently works here. You can say that we're your typical every day Italian family. But, please don't compare us to "Real Housewives of New Jersey," they just give our nationality a bad name.
Anyways, I've been back and forth from school working here since it opened 3 years ago, and the one thing that gets me excited when I go home is Bronze Tanning. I love working here. Weird, I know..No one likes to work, every one dreads work, and people wish they could never work a day in their life if they could. But, Bronze is different. I love socializing with different people, it's so entertaining. The things people say are out of this world, especially when they look at our magazines and critque every single celebrity they see. Or even when they ask about the tanning beds, "So these UV beds get you tan?" This line is my favorite that clients say. Like no, they bleach your skin actually, OBVIOUSLY they get you tan. What do you think the words bronze TANNING is? Do you think our company name is lying to you? NO! Aside from the dumb ones that come in, we actually get a variety of other different people: cool moms, bitchy teens, hot dudes my age, women who can't speak English, old men, friends, and of course the rich rude ladies. God, do I hate the rich rude ladies. THEY ARE SO MEAN! They come in here with a stick up their ass acting like they deserve a tiara for being so fake. I mean, fake boobs, fake lips, fake hair(that my sister probably does), FAKE EVERYTHING. But, they come in and act like they have unlimited tanning.
Me- So, it looks like you're out of tans, would you like to buy a walk-in or a package today?
Rich rude lady-What? I'm out of tans? Are you serious?
Me-Yes
Rich rude lady-(rude tone)Um, I have only tanned here a couple of times, there's definitely a mistake.
Me-(tells her what day she's tanned on and how many tans she's bought..lady has it wrong)
Rich rude lady- Whatever, I'll just buy new tans, I guess (eyes rolling like a tumble weed in the wild wild west)
   No eye contact just looking at her phone with her eyebrows high as the sky looking like she's too surprised for words...or maybe it was just her botox making her look like that. Who knows.

Another scenario
 Me-Hi how are you today?
 Rich rude lady-good, can i go into the Matrix?
 Me-We are actually booked for another hour, would you like to make an appt?
 Rich rude lady- Every time I come in here, you guys are always booked. (Walks out the door)

...cool

My favorite is when the rich rude ladies get a spray tan.

In the spray tanning booth, there's a poster to instruct clients what positions to do during the session. Not only do I show them the poster (that they can see during the tan session), but I reenact the movements and inform them about every little detail. The spray booth also talks to the clients telling them what position to be in next. It's ridiculous how easy it is. Plus, I tell them how they aren't supposed to shower within 4-6 hours and how you are not supposed to sweat nor go to the gym because you'll streak. Every normal lady knows this, come on.
Anyways, when the new rich rude client comes back from a spray tan, she'll complain about how it didn't give her enough time to switch positions and how she demands her money back. Annoying, right?
Or 4 hours later, I'll get a phone call saying:

 Rich rude lady-"I streaked, it looks terrible..blah blah blah".
 My response- "did you sweat?"
 Rich rude lady- "No, but I'm going throught menopause and I'm having an episode of hot flashes.  This isn't my fault, I want my money back."
 A response I wished to say- "HAHAHAHAH! SUCKS DUMB ASS"

No, no, no... i would never say that.. ;)

One rich rude lady actually came in, sprayed and then yelped about us 2 hours later (thankfully this is the only bad review out 25 of them that we've gotten)

I went to the spray booth....bad idea, by the time you read the next "pose" outside the door, you've missed the spraying...wait till they have the person who will spray you to have this done, don't use the booth, STREAKING ALL OVER THE PLACE....get the lotion at Walgreens, better idea.

...whatever lady, you're dumb

But, 1 out 80 of our clientale are the rich rude ladies and we have about 3,500 clients.

All the others are so friendly and nice..These clients are the reason why I love working here!

My Brothers Little Buckaroo

My sister-in-law is having my brother's son in 4 weeks and I heard this song a couple of months ago. Every time I hear it, I just think of Fee-Fee (my brother). Okay, his name isn't really Fee-Fee, it's actually Stevie, but when I was little, I used to call him that name and now it just stuck to him. So everyone, including his friends, call him Fee-Fee. My bad, bro.

But literally, ANYONE who knew my brother, when he was little, knows that he was the most barbaric little shit in the world. He did it all: unscrewed his crib when he was two, showered his room with baby powder and desitin(diaper rash powder) (no one could go in there for 2 days), jumped out of his window and played in the mud naked with my dog (still 2 years old), ran away from my dad and went to a candy shop 5 minutes away from where he was supposed to be (yup, 2 years old), drove my mom's car into a bush, drove my family friends RV into the Best Western sign, called an African American boy a brownie (only 4), threw a peanut butter sandwich at a boy his age who was deathly allergic to peanuts(first one to get suspended at our school), threw a baseball at our across the street neighbor's house almost twice a year, asked our fat plumber if his mother fed him too much, and was put into a straight jacket because he wouldn't keep calm. Yes, he was the boy who had to be put on a leash every time my parents took him out.

He wasn't a malicious boy, he was just one of those crazy-funny toddlers. If you ever met him today, you would have never known that Stevie was this insane as a kid.
My poor parents..No wonder why I was the easiest child.

Hopefully when little Lucas comes, he will finally have his payback. Crossing my fingers for another inhumane  wild child.


Hi Prince :) I love youuu!

Friday, June 17, 2011

Unpretty

The beauty of a woman isn't about the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman is seen in her eyes, because that's the doorway to her heart, the place love resides. the true beauty in a woman, is refelcted by her soul. It's the caring that she gives and the passion that she shows. And the beauty of a woman, with passing years, only grows.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

"Bunny"

From when I was little, I've always wanted a rabbit. Cathy, my mom, has always shut me down saying, "HELL NO! They smell, Alexandra. Plus, I'll be the only one who takes care of it without any help." So, when I finally got some freedom going away to college, I decided to buy a rabbit at an SPCA in Chico, Ca. Supposedly, this is the only society prevention center that doesn't euthanize the animals. When i saw the furry little hopping animal, I knew she was mine. Without my mothers parental consent, I bought her. 

SPCA named her Raja Rabbit. 

I thought it was cheesy. 

I needed something childish. 

So, Little Bunny Foo-foo it was.

I had her at my sophomoric apartment for a year and my roommates had a love/hate relationship for Foo-Foo. They loved her because she was cute and didn't do much, but they hated her because she was a "Smelly Mel."[In case you aren't from the Bay, Smelly Mel is a plumbing company around here.] I finally told Cathy I had boughten a rabbit. And oh wait, that next year, when I'm a junior, she'll have to keep it at home for a whole year because the sorority house (yes, I am a sorority girl, don't judge) doesn't allow animals. So not only did my mother put up with a smelly house for a year, but she had to take care of Bunny too. 

Guess, my mom was right.  
Oops.
Hi Bunny!

My canine mammal

This is Winston. He's my main "bitch"
We have different names for this wrinkly fool
 Winky
 Flinking
Winny 
 Walkeeem
 Bercrom
 Bercrombie and Fitch
ISA WALKEEEM!

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Take One:

10 reasons why people call me Prima Donna:

1.  My mother has told me that I am the most dramatic girl she has ever met.

2. Every one thinks my mother is hilarious and will copy everything she says.
For example: Her best friend Annie and my mother have a nickname, "Marge." Annie's older son made it up when he was little.
Exact words:  "All weirdos are marges"-Joey.
Ever since, Annie and my mother, Cathy, have been saying this name for all weird and outlandish women they see. Throughout the years, the name became more and more popular. Annie and Cathy named their adult softball team, "The Marges"; and later, a pee-wee softball team named themselves ,"The Little Marges." I shit you not, I have heard it on television shows and I can guarantee you it's all because of Joey, Annie,........and my mother.

Wow, I got off topic...

I tend to babble, so bare with me..

3. I barely wear the same outfit twice.

4. I talk about myself a lot.

5. I try to be the center of attention. (I have a REALLY loud voice..for this   reason).

6. I love hearing about drama (I'm a huge drama queen).

7. I over exaggerate EVERYTHING. Even if I tell a story and it has no meaning, I WILL TRY AND FIND A MEANING to make it a big deal.

8. I argue with almost everyone and always try to be right, even if I know I'm not.

9. I just asked my sister why she calls me a Donna.
   Her words, "Because you're annoying as eff."

10.To be honest, I'm in love with myself and I really don't care who knows it.


Yes, I just called myself out on a lot of negative qualities, but it makes me who I am. I may sound like a really annoying girl, I know, but my friends and family love me unconditionally. I mean come on, I'm a funny girl. Who wouldn't love me?

I may be a diva, I may be a drama queen, but I am THE Prima Donna.