Holiday date nights with Just Jack

It's been a while since I wrote about Just Jack. Mainly because I don't see his pretty face nearly enough. So, I was beyond excited for our holiday date night last night.

Date nights with Just Jack=guaranteed hilarity.

Witness for yourself:

My little bro got me a pair of Ugg boots for Christmas. Just Jack DESPISES Ugg boots. (See this post for further clarification.) So of course I wore them just for him on our date night. Only the best for my gay-bee.

He couldn't resist ragging on me and I'm sure he'll never relent whenever I wear them in his presence. "I hope your warm and comfortable, Miss Procras., because you look ridiculous," were just some of the comments I endured. (His wifey, Straight Lady, owns Crocs so now he has two women in his life to torment. Bet he never thought that would happen.)

Anywho, we decided to order pizza from The Italian Store for dinner.

***D.C. residents, if you have not experienced the deliciousness that is The Italian Store, you are missing out on some of the best pizza ever created. And no, I'm not exaggerating. ***

Direct quote from Just Jack after he opened the box and ogled its contents. "I just had a mini-O from the site of that pizza."

Leaving the parking lot, we almost were run over by Santa, who had somehow traded in his sleigh for a red Ford Escape.

JJ: "Santa, go back to the North Pole and make me a toy for fuck's sake."

Our date night commenced with pizza, the cheapest bottle of wine we could find in the store (screwtop, of course), poured into pink plastic cups almost as flaming as JJ, a few reruns of Grey's, a viewing of Love Actually and some hot chocolate mixed with Kahlua, creme de menthe and vodka.

It was glorious.

And I must say, nights like this make my life complete.

Love you, mean it, JJ!

Wishing you all a Happy New Year! See you bias in 2010!!

Ellie the Echo Strikes Again

Remember this post from a couple weeks ago? Such a thoughtful early Christmas gift from my beloved car.

Those of you who know me are aware Miss Procras. and automobiles don't mix so well. In my nine years of wrecking havoc on the roads, I've flipped my car on a windy mountain, almost crashed head first into a school bus and caused countless dents in parking garages.

Basically, you sign over your life by getting into a car with me behind the wheel.

Guess Ellie decided a flat tire and being locked out wasn't enough punishment for one holiday season. On Sunday, after lunch with the parentals and some family friends, I headed to meet some friends for beer and football. I was very low on gas, but I figured I'd fill up after lunch. BAD IDEA.

As soon I pushed on the gas pedal, my car started puttering. I couldn't go faster than 25 mph. I needed a gas station ASAP.

Unsure where the closest station was, I headed toward what I thought was the most logical direction. I knew one couldn't be too far down the road. Au contraire.

Ellie crapped out before I could catch even the slightest glimpse of a gas station in the horizon.

Thankfully, my dad was less than two minutes away and came to my rescue.

We reached gas station #1. No gas cans. Headed to gas station #2. Closed. Reached gas station #3. Success!

Thirty minutes later, we had a gas can and fuel to get some sustenance into my bitch of a car so she could make it a mile down the road.

Hopefully, she's done with her shenanigans. I don't know if I can handle any more Christmas surprises from Ellie the Echo.

Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday, free of car distress!

You're a Rotten, Mrs. Grinch

One of my superiors is quite the ray of sunshine.

You'd think during such a festive season, even the grumpiest souls could find joy somewhere in the depths of their cold hearts.

Not this woman.

Homegirl walks through the office looking like a 90-year-old hunchback with her arms folded over her chest and the worst posture I've ever witnessed. (Probably due to the stick up her ass.)

She could give Ben Stein a run for his money with her monotone voice and lack of facial expressions. She zaps any and all energy from the office because she has none.

This morning, I held the door to our suite open for her, and she didn't even acknowledge the gesture. No 'thank you,' no 'good morning.' Nothing.

I've met some of the most socially awkward people, and even they know how to say 'please' and 'thank you.' It's not a hard concept.

I avoid her like the plague. If I have to drop of something in her office, I wait until she leaves and then slide it under her door. And if, God forbid, I go to the kitchen to warm up my lunch and she's already there, I go back to my desk and wait five minutes until she'd done.

I just find it easier to interact with her as little as possible.

Wonder if there's any hope that her heart could grow three sizes and she would carve the roast beast? Now THAT would be a true Christmas miracle.

Where's Cindy Lou Who when you need her?

To: Miss Procras. From: Ellie the Echo

Evidently, my car thought I was on the naughty list this year. I've kinda put her through the ringer in the two years I've owned her. Scraping her side against a pole in a parking garage , losing a hubcap by running up onto a curb, leaving her parked in D.C. to get keyed by some hoodlums....you get the idea. Ellie the Echo is not happy with me.

But, Karma's a bitch. And Ellie decided to turn the tables on me last night.

I was at Pentagon City mall for a haircut and some last-minute shopping. I returned to my car and began driving away, when I heard the tell-tale thumping sound of a flat tire. I pulled back into a parking spot and went to assess the damage.

My front passenger side tire was ridiculously flat. I'm talking, rim-touching-the-pavement flat. After talking to The Hoff, I decided to drive to the nearest gas station.

Now, if you're from the D.C. area, you know that the Pentagon City mall area is basically all shops and apartments. NO gas stations. Why they don't have any fuel near where thousands of people shop and reside is beyond me.

I was sobbing, and praying, and cursing Ellie for being a piece of shit. She couldn't care less, and continued to thump and shake more violently with each block I drove.

After two miles, I finally caught glimpse of a gas station. The blue, red and white illuminated Exxon sign never looked so good. Before I was able to pull into the station, a Hispanic gentleman pointed at my tire.

No shit, Sherlock. I feel like I'm caught in a size-6-on the Richter scale earthquake, but I thought that was normal for a car. Thanks for the heads up.

I frantically pulled up to the air machine, grabbed my wallet and exited my car. When I reached the tire this is what I saw.

Yeah, I don't think putting air into that would help.

So, I went back to the driver's side door to retrieve my phone. Door was locked. I ran around to the passenger side. Also locked. Checked my coat pockets for my keys. Only found lint and an old movie ticket stub. Glanced at the ignition and saw keys still there, swaying gleefully from side to side. (I swear they were taunting me.)

I'm sure Ellie was on cloud nine by this point.

The gas station attendant was nice enough to let me use her phone to call The Hoff and USAA's roadside assistance.

The Hoff, knight in shining armor that he is, arrived in 15 minutes and kept me from getting frostbite. Within 45 minutes, the roadside assistance crew arrived, unlocked my car and replaced the shredded heap of rubber with my spare tire.

Not only do I drive a clown car, but now I'm driving with a donut. My commute on 66 and 495 was quite interesting, since I can't drive faster than 45 mph. I felt sorry for the poor souls behind me.

Moral of the story: don't ever drive on a flat. And maybe I really need to consider moving where a car isn't a necessity.

Christmas Traditions

For me, most of my Christmas traditions revolve around movies. There are just so many good ones! I have to be infront of a film infused with cheer, magic and St. Nick while writing Christmas cards, baking cookies, decorating the tree, etc. Hell, if I could walk around with "Elf" playing as I did my shopping I totally would.

On my flight to San Diego last week, the Southwest magazine in the back seat pocket had a quiz to determine which holiday movie you needed to watch this season. I changed my answers each time so I could land on them all. Yep, I'm that much of a dork.

I present you, my must-see holiday films:

Childhood favorite; been watching this one since I was 4. It's on VHS and still has commercials on it from 1988. Remember creepy Teddy Ruxpin? He's on there, still taunting me and giving me nightmares.

Another childhood favorite on the same tape as "Muppet Family Christmas."

I saw this for the first time in my sixth grade chorus class. I was instantly hooked. Who can resist Bing Crosby's"White Christmas?"

My grandfather loved this movie. He had to watch it whenever he came to visit. Not that I blame him-it's hilarious. Now, everytime I watch it I think of him.

Pure comedic genius. The perfect remedy for holiday stress.

Why people felt it necessary to recreate this Christmas classic and put Jim Carrey in gallons of green paint and fur is beyond me.

That 24-hour marathon on TBS every Christmas Eve through Christmas Day? On the ENTIRE time at my parent's house. I always get kind of depressed when the marathon is over-it's like it signals the end of Christmas.


Will Ferrel in an elf suit, eating syrup all over spaghetti, wrecking holiday havoc in NYC. Lo and I quote this movie throughout the entire month of December. Love this movie almost as much as I love her. ALMOST.

You just feel good about life when you watch this movie. It makes the world feel like a much

What are your top Christmas flicks?

Queer Eye for the Straight Guy Chrstimas Edition

The Hoff and his roommates crack me up. They're the epitome of guy's guys. Football watching, farting, burping, beer-guzzling twenty-four year olds. And I heart them.

They've become some of my closest friends in D.C. and I couldn't ask for a better group of guys to party with and test my lackluster cooking skills on.

And I have to admit, they surprise the hell out of me. You'd think a house occupied by four 24-year-old guys would be equivalent to a frat house. But it's always decently clean.

In fact, they've got me beat on the Christmas decor front.

They purchased a well-shaped, full Frasier Fur Christmas tree (I feel like I'm describing a glass of wine or attractive person. Promise I don't have a tree fetish-ha!) Lights are strung, ornaments have been borrowed from yours truly, and the real shocker: the tree is color coded!

Only red and silver ornaments are hanging from the tree, with a few gold ones mixed in. It's like Queer Eye for the Straight Guy came through for the holidays.

See for yourselves. (Sorry the quality isn't so great, but you get the idea.)

And don't worry, that tree will have tons have presents surrounding it soon enough. They're all buying gifts for each other. Bromance at it's finest.

Senior Date Night

I just got back from San Diego last night. I was scheduled to attend a work conference Mon-Thurs, and The Hoff suggested we have a mini-vacaction and leave on Saturday since we've both never been to SD before.

I need to load more pics to give a proper recap, but let me leave you with this teaser for the weekend.

The Hoff and I went to dinner in La Jolla one night, and quickly realized we must have interrupted senior night. I'm not kidding, we were the youngest patrons there by at least 40 years.

We asked our watier, who was, surprisingly, our age, the target market of this particular establishment. He claimed it was 18-34. After looking around the restaurant, The Hoff said, "Really?"

Then he proceeded to tell us that it's a hip local spot. Ha! Maybe if by "hip" he means those who've had hip replacements.

I have to admit, I hope I turn out like the old timers sitting beside us when I'm 75. They downed at least 2 bottles of wine during dinner. Here's to retirement!

I Feel Like Ranting Today...Facebook, You're on the Chopping Block

I realize I did a post on my love/hate relationship with Facebook a few weeks ago. I guess I have a lot of pent-up hostility towards that social networking site...probably because I spend 75% of my workday stalking-err, I mean browsing-people's profiles, status updates, pictures, etc.

Though I'm signed on Monday through Friday, 9-5, I don't really do much to my own fb account. There's the once-a-week status update (I normally don't have anything very exciting to say), the happy birthday/i heart you shout outs, the rare photo change and the even more rare photo postings. (My friends really hate this one...they know any pictures I take will NEVER get posted on fb.)

Over the years, I've noticed different types of fb users start to surface. I've developed my own classification for those users that really grate my nerves.

1) The "I-only-communicate-via-Facebook" user
You know, the people who, no matter what form of communication you use to contact them (phone call, text, e-mail, letter), will ONLY reply via a facebook wall post or message.

I can understand not wanting to answer a phone call. You're on the phone all day at work, so when 5 o'clock rolls around, the phone is put on silent mode so you can spend the evening interruption-free with a bottle of merlot and Grey's reruns on Lifetime. I get it.

BUT, a text? An e-mail? Why is it so hard to respond to those? You don't even have to TALK to the person!

When facebook was invented, the other forms of communication did not suddenly become obsolete.

You think if these peeps were in a burning building they'd send a wall post or message to the Fire Dept? Hell-to-the-no! They'd be picking up a phone. The same logic can be applied to your nearest and dearest. Just sayin'

2) The "I'm-an-attention-hog" Facebook user
No, I'm not going to join your pity party of how awful your day was and how you just want to be home cuddled in bed. Every other working American feels the same way. DEAL WITH IT.

3) The "vomit-inducing" Facebook user
Oh, I just love hearing how wonderful your significant other is and how much you love them. I don't care that he/she bought you a dozen roses, gives good back rubs and sweeps you off your feet every day. Spare us all, please.

4) The "I'm-pregnant-and-it's so-awful-and-wonderful-the-same-time" Facebook user
We get it. Pregnancy is such a magical experience---feeling the baby move for the first time, baby showers... Oh wait, it actually kinda sucks. Between the back pain and the swollen feet, you just want to pop the kid out now. Um...you're the one who got knocked up. Where's that mother's glow now??

5) The invisible Facebook user
The ones who create a fb account, but never bother to upload a picture or anything else. What good are they?

Types 1-4 are infinitely more better than these fuckers. At least they give me a way to occupy my time.

I'm equally annoyed when I'm in the same network as someone but not friends with them and can't see their profile. So rude. I need to stalk you, and you're making it REALLY difficult.

If you're any of the above, don't worry, I still love you. Your facebook account just gives me something to bitch/laugh about. And don't we all need that once in a while?