the face. aka. the devils spawn

I have good looking friends. i mean obviously, like attracts like. sexual boys, pretty girls. when we are all together, say, shootin pool on a saturday night, we are a good looking crowd. id check us out. boys in chucks and band shirts, girls in heels and snug tops, tattoos, jukebox killing it. like for reals. its pretty sexual. but then something happens. something so terrible i cant even believe im dedicating a blog to it. something comes over this crowd, something awful, god awful and disgusting. something i call . . . THE FACE
Now the face is a tricky thing. Its origin is unknown. theres many a tall tale as to where it started. and theres the eminent fear that it will never die. so for now i deal with it. even if it makes me want to puke.
It comes in many forms. theres the "just got out of bed face"



the "im only 21 but i now look 87 face"

the "im actually really hot but now im a troll face"

the "hey you look like a cabbage patch kid face"

the "group face"

the "you should never make that face again face"

the "lets try to make it sexual face"

and my new personal fav "the unintentional face!"

this face.
this fucking disgusting face
not a day goes by that i dont see it. not just in my dreams but amongst my friends. dinner parties. the face. bbqs. the face. beer pong tourneys. the face. at home all alone. phone chimes. text message: scott barrett. the face.
beware you guys
its like waking up next to someone after a night of too much whiskey and realizing they arent as pretty as you thought, in fact maybe you thought they resembled beckham and turns out its a 35 year old black man with a pick left on your pillow. this is the face. one second youre laughing and joking the next second youre puking. the face . . .

Clear heels shoved in a hiking backpack shoved into an overhead bin . . .

Las Vegas Nevada. Land of gold, glitter and in this event, SILVER. 21st birthdays are always exciting. Legalized gambling, drinking, and if youre lucky enough to escape the confines of your small town and get to vegas, a complete loss of inhibition. This was my weekend.
ok ok, i know im not 21, but a girl can dream, or remember? whatever.
the darling little sister of my best friend turned 21 last friday, so her even more darling of a mother treated her, her two sisters, and me (substitute sister) to a little getaway to the HARD ROCK HOTEL!!!!
As the question always goes when you live in Santa Barbara and you mention youre going to vegas . . . "are you flying or driving?" good lord on numerous occassions ive had to answer the awful answer of "driiiiiiiivvvvviiinnnnnggggg" i cringe at the thought of it now. Hung as shit in the backseat of whoevers car, deep breaths, window up, window down, window up, window down, pull over im gonna yak. its hot. im hungry. how much longer? why is there so much traffic? WHY DIDNT WE JUST FLY!?So yes. this time. We flew.
The four us piled in with our luggage. One with a bag big enough to cart Napoleon and Nostradomus, one with a pink polka dot story telling if only that suitcase had ears bag, one with look at me i have matching shiny i think im a kardashian bags and one with a backpack. yes folks just your typical northface, jansport, generic oversize, looks like im carrying a suitcase on my back, but its just a pack, backpack.
As we drive we talk.
"what are you wearing tonight"
"what shoes did you bring"
"are you gonna wear your extensions"
"hell yes im wearing that weave" oh wait, thats an answer ;)
"how are you gonna do your makeup"
"will you do my hair"
so in a nutshell, just your basic girl on her way to vegas talk.
but not all girls are the same.
not all girls pack backpacks
as i start rambling on about how i forgot to repaint my nails or get a pedicure, Sister one interjects.
"i cant stand painted toe nails!"
I take huge offense to this. Since the time i could use my thumbs (which im sure the only reason we have those midget fingers is to grasp the brush of an OPI bottle) I have painted my toe nails.
"thats weird, I cant stand when girls DONT paint their toe nails"
her being the sweetest kindest soul of a person, " oh no kami, not everyone, just me, I just dont like when my toe nails are painted."
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTT?! is she joking?
" what do you mean?"

*what im about to say is not exaggerated, it is not a joke, these are actual events.

"its not that i dont like it, its just that it makes me feel slutty"
silence


I look down at her toes. But you just painted your toes at the house.
again, this is a real conversation

"i know but i painted them silver"
laughter
"SILVER IS THE SLUTTIEST COLOR< ITS WHAT STRIPPERS WEAR!!!"

as i type this i still laugh. this girl. this little girl from Carp. and her silver toes. sounds like the makings of a jack and the beanstalk sequal.


and after a day at the sandy beaches of rehab . . . shes not only slutty, but dirty.

love you rose! you just go ahead and keep bein you ;)

Water into wine. or beer, and margaritas

So much of what I write about seems to stem from the smallness of this world. Whether it be me in Utah and meeting boys from SB, then meeting another boy who turns out to be the best friend of your boy in SB, yada yada yada. oops! Ripping off someones shirt when your drunk and having to wait on them the next night, or ripping out someones hair via wax and realizing the guy they are talking about is the same guy another one of your clients has been talking about. Its a small world, and a dingy of a town. But in then end, somehow, in some magical Santa Barbara way, everything works out.
Case in point.
The Water Fight
Just a little over a year ago, my girlfriends and I became friends with a group of guys. Instant connections on a friendship level. We drink the same drinks, we like the same bands, and we are all just really good looking. Matches made in heaven. We hit up the bars, go to shows, get tipsy, have an occassional makeout sesh. You know, just standard state street shennanagins. Everythings hunky dory. But just like on TV, theres that one girl. The girl thats already friends with these boys, she dates one. Theyve been friends forever, shes cute, shes rad, she drinks and thinks shes a little too tough. And on one special occassion, she really was.
Now maybe its my fault. I mean Im at a show wearing 4 inch BCBGs and a pearl necklace. shes in chucks. i have butterfly tattoos she has skulls. she has blunt bangs, im basically in an updo. i like a boy, hes her best friend. whatever it might have been, i was about to get hit with it. right in the kisser.
so we dance, we sing, we jump around, we take shots. im just hangin by the bar. puttin out the vibes. mid sentence with this boy . . .
okay maybe thats a little dramatic. but as a drunk girl, it sobered me up. girlfriend takes her bottle of water and THROWS IT IN MY FACE!!!!!
like WTF! i dont wear waterproof mascara.
needless to say theres an instant scuffle of boys trying to defend us both. and within minutes. i leave. commercial break.
Over the next few weeks i see her. she says nothing does nothing. so finally one night i take two shots and march my ghettoness up.
"HI!"
is she joking?
"hi"
"HOW ARE YOU?! "
im so confused
"im good . . . . do you remember throwing water in my face a couple weeks ago"
oh god please dont let this get awkward.
"OMG!! WHAT?!?!?!"
followed by a hundred sorrys and two shots of jameson. this girls alright.
i suppose im not the only blackout in this crowd. after that we were cordial. for the next year.
Now its a full year and some months later and I get a call to have some beers, oddly enough with that same boy and her. I go, and next to the studded sandals i purchased at ross for 12 bucks last week, it turns out to be the best decision of the summer.
after a few drinks and stories. The three of us come up with a million dollar idea. An idea thats gonna change the way girls look at themselves, change the way boys look at girls. And definitly have you reconsider the amount of money you tip your esthetician :)
Such a small world.
With such a Santa Barbara ending.
now if i could just get my paws on her associate . . .
Jaime. youre rad
Matt, your okay :)