One Weekend at a Time

Editor's note: this is an email to an old co-worker giving her an idea of what my life has been like since I've moved to San Diego.  It seems fitting to share...in its entirety because I'm too lazy to edit it.)

I’m hoping not ALL of my weekends continue to go like this, but here’s an average look at a Thursday-Saturday for Karsen:

I met two of my ball kickin' friends at their house Thursday afternoon.  We made our drinks and reapplied make up.  Yes.  We wear make up to kick ball.  

Our drinks are adult Arnold Palmers… which basically means we mix sweet tea and lemonade vodka with a splash of soda water.  On ice.  We usually get to the park about 20-30 minutes before the game starts…and within 10 minutes the 40 or so jell-o shots we bring are gone.  And usually between the three of us because no one else gets there that early.  Needless to say, by the time the game starts we’re feeling pretty good.  After the game (during which we kept drinking) we all head to the bar to share a couple of pitchers. And then we go to another bar to get more pitchers. And the best part is, we’re home by 11 and I still get a solid nights’ rest. 

Friday I wasn’t going to do anything.  That was my plan.  And then I got bored. 

So, Sofia and I went to Tall Seth Rogan's house to do a “tour of OB” with him. Which basically just is a fancy way of saying we’re going bar hopping. 

We get to their house and Jimbo makes us his Jimbo lattes.  (Coffee, creamer, vodka, Kahlua.) Mine had a splash of coffee in it.  I was buzzing hard after the first one.  And then we made a second one to go.  (Jimbo didn’t go to the bar with us.  Tall Seth Rogan's friend Adam came instead) By the time we got to the first bar… I was drinking water.  And seeing double.  Luckily we were only at that bar for about 20 minutes…and by the time we got to the second bar, I was ready to go again.  So I bought my first drink… and every drink after that Seth bought… J heh.

My friends Steve and Oz came and met us out…and I don’t remember much after that.  I do remember playing pool at the last bar with Seth… and at one point in time he said to Sofia “What do I have to do to get her to come home with me?”  And I know this happened because not only was Seth SUPER loud when he asked her… but she was standing right next to me.  He was maybe four feet away from me.  Screaming this question at her.  I just started laughing and walked away.  (Oh, and she told him that I was going home with her because she wasn’t staying with Jimbo.  Heh)

We got back to Sofia’s at about 4am.  The last time I remember looking at the clock it was 4:30.  I woke up at 7:30 to go home, got there by 8, and was asleep by 8:10.  And up by 9:15 and at the casino by 10.  (This is my life every Saturday, btw) Luckily, grams wasn’t feeling well, so we left the casino by 2 and I got to lounge around for a few hours before going out again.

Charlii and I met Sofia at her house at 8.  Before hopping in a taxi an hour later I had:

1 – vodka tonic

2 – adult Arnold palmers

1 – shot of Jameson

We get to the bar that we’re going dancing at and head down to the basement where the dj is.  There’s a raised platform near the back and the security guard that’s standing up there pulls us up there with him.  Naturally, we took it over.  I gave Sofia money and she got both of us drinks… that was all I paid for all night long.  There were these Navy boys next to us and they LOVED us.  They kept buying us rounds and shots… Things I vaguely remember:

1.       Being a “pole” and having all the guys dance on me.

2.       Getting a lap dance from said boys.

3.       Standing on the speakers and dancing

4.       Drawing on the bathroom stalls (they were chalkboards! Best idea ever!)

There are so many pictures that I DON’T remember taking. …and the sad thing is they were all taken early in the night because my hair was still down, and I never last more than a couple of hours with it down. 

I spent all day yesterday recovering.  And I feel like I’m still in recovery mode today.  BLEH.

But hopefully it kept you entertained! 

Kickin' Balls

I joined a motha fuckin kickball team, bitches!! (I said that like a drag queen in my head.)
These people have pretty much consumed my life since we've been thrown together... and soon I'll throw together some of the stories.

But first:
I went to a wet underwear contest at a gay bar last night.  (Hence the queen voice in the first place.)

I watched a fellow ball kicker hook up with a legit butter face...in the women's bathroom of the gay bar.  (We also applauded them as they walked back up to the table.)

• Funny side story: after receiving their praise, she said, "whatever we were thinking was a bad idea.  That was a bad idea." She then looked at him and said, "I'm sorry." He put his arm over her shoulder and said, "it's ok."  WHAT could have happened to warrant a "sorry" on her end?!

Bathroom Boner was supposed to do the contest as well, but ultimately chickened out and then ducked out when we were getting food.  (Dick head.) Sofia and I stayed.  And boy am I happy we did.


Not only did I get to see an extremely intoxicated gay grandfather get into the shower and dance around all hot and bothered while eye fucking his boyfriend across the room... I got to watch an angry MMA fighter cup and gyrate his dripping balls (luckily still covered...the grandpa almost let his shit out) and a dorky country boy do the splits.  THRICE.

And then, I got to watch the sexiest STRAIGHT man I have ever seen in my life get up there and shake his wet, mostly naked thang on the stage.

HOLY.  HELL.

I also got asked the most terrifying would you rather question of my entire life:
Would you rather watch your parents have sex everyday for a year
or
Join in on them just once to make it stop.