"HELP! She's been SHOT!"

You know, I never thought anyone would be screaming those words while pointing at me. 


I try to not get myself into situations where I would be placed in harms way... but sometimes, harm finds me.


A couple years back, I was diagnosed with Lupus Anticoagulant (this will be a blog entry in itself) -- All that means in a nutshell is that I am prone to getting blood clots, and I have to be careful to: not smoke, not take birth control, not get pregnant. etc...


Anyway, back to story - I was taking blood clot medication (blood thinners) and I was invited to attend my really good friends Bachlorette party.  My doctor had told me I could not drink while taking this medication, but how could I attend a bachlorette party- and not drink? 


I promised myself I would moderate the drinking, and stick to 5 drinks instead of 15. 
This is a MAJOR adjustment if you know me.


The night started off awesome, all the girls met at my house, where we treated the bachlorette to penis cakes and vodka cranberry (awesome mix)


We took pics, we got dressed, and drank as we got ready to go to our pole dance class....


There, we continued to drink Vodka cranberry in the class -- it was a disaster. There was nothing sexy to us.


We take the car back to my place, change out of our workout clothes and stilettos - and jump into a limo that's taking us STRAIGHT to the strip club. 


Wooohoo... Male strippers. : / 


I walk into this place, and run into a friend from high school working the bar. <<jackpot>>
 free drinks.


A couple hours pass, the vodka red bull is now kicking in.


We leave the strip club and get back into the limo. We are about 12 girls, now all struggling to change into club clothes, inside the limo, all while drinking, and applying makeup -- to go to the Beach for our reserved table with champagne and more vodka.


Exciting! We get to the beach, they let us all in.. things are going great! BEST BACHLORETTE PARTY EVER.


Champagne arrives. We toast! To the bride! TO THE BRIDE!!!!


<<dance, dance, dance,>> the club music is pumping through the speakers at the forge. The place is PACKED. 


I look over to my left, I see a couch! THANK BABY JESUS! I see a couch, my feet are KILLING ME!


I make my way over to the couch, and see one of the girls in our party dancing on the table in front of me. I PLOP on the couch, full force, so excited to sit down and give my feet a rest.


OH. MY. GOD.


I get a stabbing sensation on my left butt cheek. Blood is streaming down my legs, onto my shoes.


I freak out.


I stand up. The floor is covered in blood.
It s a river.


I look around. I see a champagne glass.
The fucking girl dancing on the table had thrown her fucking champagne glass onto the couch, which I had now sat on. PUNCTURING MY ASS.


I'm on blood thinners.


I freak out more.


A nurse in the group, runs over to me, and presses her hand against my ass to stop the bleeding. She yells it needs pressure. I explain to her It hurts, she's pressing the glass deeper into my butt!


I run outside. It's a frenzy, I'm leaving a blood trail behind me.


People start yelling " She's been shot! She's been Shot! Call 911"


I run outside, my dress is lifted into my hands, My ass is exposed to all the beach goers trying to get into the Forge. I don't care. i need to stop the bleeding. i need to get to a hospital. i need an ambulance.


People are calling 911 from their cellphones. I hear the doorman telling the operator, he thinks I've been shot. I correct him. I tell him it's glass.


He looks confused. Too much blood for glass!


i'm on blood thinners. I think i'm going to die of loss of blood.


The ambulance arrives. I get transported to MT. Sinai. Melissa joins me in the ambulance (she's so sweet for leaving the party - i still thank her t'ill this day)


I get taken in immediately. I explain the story.
The nurses have to remove EACH individual piece of glass , by hand, out of my butt.


I get stitches.


If you ask Mel, I was bleeding so much, it did look like a gun shot wound. I had gone through about 5 hospital sheets, and i was laying in my own pool of blood. It was a gruesome scene.


If you ever want to see my scar on my ass, that I got with glass at GLASS at the Forge, just ask. It's a great conversation starter.


UGH.

39 missed calls later, my best friend loves me

While in Grand Cayman this weekend, David reminded me of our trip to New Orleans and what a great time we had back in 2007.

We were young(er), more adventurous, and very carefree. Especially with our livers.

We went for a weekend. He convinced me to go, all I had to do was buy a plane ticket, because the hotel would be covered by some free passes (i don't ask questions).

I agree and buy a plane ticket.

We get to New Orleans, and at the airport in Miami we had met a nice young lady who was on our flight we spoke, and when we got to New Orleans we shared a cab to our hotels to reduce the cost. We never saw her again on the trip, but we exchanged phone numbers.

(side note and totally unrelated to this story: 2 years LATER in Miami, we meet this SAME young lady again and i remind her we (David and I) were the crazy people in the cab on that one trip to New Orleans. PEOPLE: the world is VERY SMALL-- always remember this, you never know who will cross your path)

Anyway, so we get to Harrah's, where we are staying, and immediately start drinking. Isn't that what people do in New Orleans?

The first night (Thursday) is pretty under control. We walked around bourbon street - bar hopping, called it a night pretty early to our standards (3 am-ish)

The Second day (Fri), we feel touristy- We walk all around New Orleans, for MILES, and visit the cemeteries and take the trolley back to town -- no biggy (pun intended)

Friday night, David had gotten tickets to Cirque du Soleil, so we went to that, dinner a couple drinks down Bourbon and called it a night.

SATURDAY. Saturday arrives full force. I must have gotten my rest, but I was ready to destroy my liver.
We woke up, went to breakfast, drank mimosas, and decided that drinking and taking a walking tour (bar tour) of New Orleans was in full order.

So we did.

By 3 pm. I was a disaster. I didn't know my name.

We walked into an empty bar with a Mechanical Bull. (bad idea)

David convinces me to get on. I listen. (bad idea)

I fly off. The bar tender and MC try to teach me how to hold on.

I fly off again.
I'm over it.

I go to get my shoes on... but remember... i have been drinking. Also remember, I'm on a huge inflatable.

I can't get out of the hole. Between the inflatable and the wall.
No one is helping me, All i hear are people laughing.
I'm laughing too, so this makes it all the harder to get out.

I manage it.

We leave the bar in anger (with another drink) and continue on our bar hop.

On our way around town, I find one of those shops where they sell more drinks (i must have have been out) -- i walk in, like i own the place.

I start taking to the cashier for a free drink.
I get 2.

In return, i dance around the bar, and also help him cash out customers

disaster.

I would say David took me home at this point. But he didn't. He watched in awe.
So we continued.

At one point we went back to the hotel, and danced int he lobby. Here I noticed my arm hurt from my earlier fall (about 5 hours earlier) -- i freak out, and i call the paramedics. YES. I call the hotel paramedics. David can't believe it.
I'm in tears bc i'm sure i have broken my arm (i should have been concerned 5 hours ago, but those are just details)

The paramedic gives me the ok --- i feel better. We go gambling. It's now 5 am.

I can barely see.

But i know i'm in the hotel lobby.

At around 6 am, I tell David i'm going upstairs to sleep. I don't even say good bye. I just walk away.

I walk all the way through the hotel, through the casino, all the way to our room.

I walk into the room, and lock the doors, including the security lock

What if someone was going to ROB me?

<<oops>>

I pass out.

I wake up Sunday morning --- look around, no sign of David.

I FREAK OUT. Where is he? What if something happened? OMG! i'm an evil friend!

i look for my phone.... i have 39 missed calls.

I open the door.

he's in the hallway.

It's 11 am. David had to sleep in the conference room after security was unable to open the door. I slept through the whole thing. and all 40 calls.

i look at myself in the mirror. i'm still in that yellow shirt and jeans. except my jeans are torn from back to front.....

I realize I had walked the entire hotel like that the night before.

i don't care.

It took 2 full days for David to talk to me after that trip. I don't blame him. he did sleep on 2 chairs in the conference room instead of a comfy bed.

i'm soooorrryyy!

<3

Some clients like to be serenaded - I hope.

Travel and work. Two things that go hand in hand when working in the Advertising/ Marketing industry.

I must say, for the past 9 years I have had the privilege of working with some AWESOME clients, and some very very cool adv professionals, who I still stay in contact with.

This story takes place in San Diego, CA.

Here we were, 3-4 people from Accent, sent to an all agency meeting for Saturn at Deutsch. What a beautiful office. So clean. So modern. So warm.

The partners were very nice, and very welcoming, and directed us to a conference room where everything was already all set up.

We lock ourselves in thisconference room - we will be here all day. from 9 am - 6 pm. With an hour for lunch.

Mentally, I'm prepared for this, but my ADD kicks in, and I'm just looking at the clock watching the time pass, hoping for an after meeting Happy Hour with all the agency partners. I enjoy the dinners and the mingling. 

During the meeting I started dozing off, and caught myself saying crazy things in response to some topics that were brought up, like when they asked: "Do Hispanics use the Internet" I responded, out loud "No, Hispanics are still on the pigeon system."

After some laughs at the round table. I decided keeping quiet was a better idea.

After the meeting, sure enough we go to a very nice dinner. Here, I start drinking. 3 Vodkas in. I'm happy.

After dinner, we took the party to the hotel lobby, where we met for after dinner drinks. We invited the Saturn Client(s) to meet us. One of the main honchos was there, I don't recall his name. He was a very nice man, in a very important position. I mean, my paychecks depend on this man and his opinion of accent and our work.

We continue drinking, chatting. He's laughing, we are all laughing. i'm telling jokes/ stories.. whatever. He looks at the time and realizes its almost midnight and he wants to go upstairs to call his wife, and go to bed because he has an early flight in the morning.

At this point, party-mode Steph is in full effect. I completely forget i'm on business, i feel so comfortable in my skin, and around this man, that i get UPSET he wants the party to end before midnight!

I feel offended! the party JUST got started!

I tell him to stay for another drink. He says he'd love to, but can't.

At this point, i smirk, look him straight in the eye, and start singing, at full volume:

Every party has a pooper, that's why I invited you, Party pooper!!! party pooper!!!

My co-worker is horrified. The client is starring at me singing at him.

he's in shock.

he's in shock I've not only sang to him, but that I'm calling him a party pooper!

he laughs

<<thank god he laughs>>

he says he's sorry - he's apologizing to me??

he's sorry, but must go.

I stay. I have another drink.

I think about my actions the next morning and think "wow, i'm really freaking crazy! -- What did I do??, i just called our CLIENT a PARTY POOPER!"

We fly back to Miami. My co-worker and friend doesn't let me live it down... for a long time.

She actually reminded me of this story last week. Seems like I had blocked it from my memory.

oops.

here are some pictures of me that night at the hotel lobby with some agency partners, and the Client! :D

FYI. Ft. Myers is not by Ft. Lauderdale.

Ahhh... the Ft. Lauderdale party days. Those were the best. Especially when I was single and poor. Free drinks for ladies! Why yes, I will drive 40 min to go drink all night, and risk my life driving back!
(man, was I a dumb college kid)

A typical Saturday night, my friend and I decide we will go to Ft. Lauderdale at night to party. She had been volunteering for some volleyball tournament during the day, and had mentioned the guys in FT. Lauderdale were hot, and that we def had to go out there to check them out.

Done. I really am very easy to convince.

We drive out to Ft. Lauderdale, and start the night bar hopping at Las Olas. The night is going very well! drinking for free, mingling with many volleyball players, it was great!

Then we meet an entire team of players. Super nice guys! Especially one in particular, Mike. He explains to me they are staying in town until Sunday and that we should get together the next day. The next day? Why not hang out all night??

<<At this point I'm on a different planet, free drinks are really dangerous>>

He looks around, and explains to me he is with his entire team, and they came on a bus, and had to go back to their hotel before midnight. Coach's rules.

Rules??? What rules! That sucks! Tell your coach I will take you to your hotel! Where are you guys staying?

He replies: Ft. Myers

In my head: Ft. Myers means somewhere near Ft. Lauderdale. It starts with FT. It must be near.

Me: Yea! That's fine! Tell him you'll be at the hotel like at 3am!

He turns to his team members, confused, and tells them I have offered to drive him to the hotel. The coach argues with him, telling him its not a good idea because of the distance, and I have been drinking. (Adults are always right, listen to them!)

I convince the guy I'm fine, and I will not drink anymore just so I can drive him back! (lies)

The team and coach give in, and they leave the bar.

Finally, I can talk to Mike in peace, and ask him stupid volleyball questions, that I can honestly care less about.

<< somewhere around this point, my friend leaves me and goes back to Miami, I stay in Ft. Lauderdale alone>>

3am rolls around. I'm exhausted. I explain to Mike that my house is closer than his hotel, and maybe he should just spend the night on the couch and I will take him to the hotel at 8 am! Bright and early.

He agrees. Honestly, I think he agrees bc the ENTIRE night he had been mentioning how far they had driven just to get to Las Olas, and I wasn't getting it in my head that it's NOT NEAR.

What tourist is gonna tell me what's near and what's far? They don't know anything! I'm from Florida, and I KNOW Ft. Lauderdale, and FT. MYERS are 20 min from each other.

I make it home. He sleeps on the couch. I wake up at 8 as I had promised him. My head is pounding. I take 4 Advil's.

I get on the expressway, and I have NO CLUE where I'm going. (this is also before GPS)

I dial a friend. My only lifeline.

me: Caro, Where is ft. Myers?

I hear her laugh

Caro: Steph, That's about 2- 2.5 hours west.

WHAT!

Yea.

She explains to me how to get there on the phone. i'm sooooooo angry. mostly at myself for being an asshole. I obv don't know where Ft. Myers is, and now I have to spend 4 hours of my life driving this guy to the other end of the world, to meet his team, before they leave him!

FML.

I drive. I drive to freaking ft. Myers. I drive so fast, I get there in under 2 hours.
I drop Mike off, I pull away, I hit a pole. My Jag has a yellow streak on it. I don't care.

I call Caro again, she's at Jimbo's birthday party.

I tell her I'm on my way to meet her. I drive STRAIGHT from Ft.Myers to Key Biscayne. I make it there in 2 hours.

I never spoke about this incident again for a long time because I was so mad at myself.

Note to self: If it starts with FT. it's far. Just say no. Stay away.

If you go to Jamaica and climb Dunn's River Falls,follow the tour guide and small children.

ooooooo David. David is my best friend. David has been my best friend since I was about 15-16 years old. He's a great guy, he really is.

Good qualities: Fun, crazy, lovable, kind, giving, hard working, family oriented, amazing friend, no one can say "no" to him (especially me)

Bad qualities: Bat shit crazy, influential,  I can't say "no" to him, bat shit crazy, bat shit crazy, influential.

See, for the past couple years, David and I have been travel partners. We love to go on free trips, jump on a plane, and just lay out on the beach.  Nothing sounds better to us than sun, beach, palm trees, and crazy adventures.

He usually names the place, and I usually make the travel arrangements. Sometimes, we even say we are engaged just so we get some free perks! (it really works)

In 2007, we went to Jamaica. What a beautiful place. 

I had only been here once before, when I was really young, and I was on a cruise -- so i was REALLY excited to spend the weekend here.

David had rented a car, so we would be landing in Montego Bay, but we would be driving all around the island doing fun things... Like climbing the Dunn's River Falls Waterfall.

It's a lot bigger in person.

Anyway, we see a tour of adults and children climbing up the waterfall, holding hands. This seems safe. Everyone is doing it. We decide to do it too.

As we start climbing up behind the tour, the tour guide yells "Stay together! Hold hands! The water is strong, and we do not want anyone slipping!"

David doesn't understand danger or fear. Instead of taking this as a warning he takes it as a sign that these people are going to go SLOWER up the falls, and he just wants to get to the top!

He grabs my hand and says "lets go up the middle of the falls"

Me: David, I don;t think this is a good idea, the tour is on the side of the falls,they look safe there. The middle looks very unsafe.

David: Stephanie, those old people are going to take forever to climb this waterfall. You will be fine. I'll help you.

--- I don't know why I agree to this--- I should know better than to listen to daredevil David.

He walks towards the center of the falls, and starts climbing up, not holding on to anything. 

The rock is EXTREMELY slippery.

He seems to have his grip, and encourages me to keep going. I see he picks up speed, but i'm not as confident as he is when climbing this waterfall.

As he's getting to the top, I yell for him to wait for me. I'm way behind him! 

"HURRY UP LAZY BITCH!" he yells back. (yeah, we talk to each other like that)  

 I pick up the pace, I lose my footing, I slip, ass first, from stone to stone, bouncing all the way down the water fall. On my way down people are starring at me, pointing. 

I see a tree, I grab it.

I'm literally holding on for dear life as i have now wrapped my body around this tree.

I look up, half in tears, to see David laughing hysterically.

I can't feel my body. My legs are all bruised and in pain.

The tour guide at the top of the falls yells "Are you okay??!!"

I yell back i'm okay (i'm trying to not cry and be REALLY Strong)

David is still laughing. I see the tour guide pointing at me and talking to David at the top of the water fall, I can only imagine what the guy is saying.

I regain my grip, and start up again. 20 min later I make it to the top, VERY SLOWLY.

When i get there, the tour guide looks worried for me, since he see's i'm shaking. He asks me if i'm okay like 30 times. (I mean really guy, i just fell down a waterfall! How do you think i'm doing??)

David, still laughing, explains to me that the tour guide had asked him to go down and help me (thinking I was David's wife) and he replied to him: WIFE! no no, she's just my friend... she's fine.. let her climb up!

Then the tour guide asked to come down and help me, and David again had told him not to.

What a great friend.

After the entire ordeal, we get back in the car for the bumpy ride back to Montego Bay. I had to travel with only half my butt touching the seat because my left side was all bruised at battered from the fall.


How many other people can say they fell down a water fall?? Thank you David for letting me live to tell about it. Jackass.

Here are some pics of our stay:

Never- ever trust a fart.

I love the keys. What's not to love? The sun, food, drinks, boats, fishing, friends, endless water sports... you name it, it's a great spot to spend the weekends.

Growing up, I was lucky enough to enjoy these great moments with my then BF and his family. For about 5-6 years, we would spend our summers in Key Largo doing all of the above.

This beautiful, hot Summer day was no different. He and I woke up early and took the boat out with his then, 11 year old sister for a day on the ocean to do some snorkeling and wake boarding.

He was a big water sports guy. He loooved (and maybe still does) to wake board. He had all the gear, and was determined to teach me and his sister how to wake board.

I was all about it. It looked like so much fun! He had all the gear, and he was a good teacher, so this would be be easy!

The afternoon went by, and the more I tried, the better I got. I still wasn't able to get up on the board, but I wasn't going to give up until I did.

Long story short.... I finally got up after 4 hours of trying (if it wasn't 4 hours, it sure as hell felt like it) I was a prune at this point.

I get up! I'm riding the wave! I'm ecstatic! WOOHOO! I'm freaking WAKE BOARDING!

I fall.

I fall so hard, the boots go one way. the board goes another, and i'm floating in pain.

He turns the boat around to come get me.

I'm done for the day.

No more. I'm dizzy.

I must recover.


We head back to land, wash down the boat, the gear and ourselves.

His parents and grandparents inform us dinner will be ready in an hour. Finally yummy Cuban food! His family cooked really well. And after a long day of being out in the water, and getting my ass kicked by a wake board, nothing seemed more pleasing than a nice warm meal.


We sit at the dinner table.

Me, Him, his sister, his grandmother, grandfather, mom and father.

Everything is going fine... until I decide to pass gas at the table.

yes, im that girl. I passed a little gas! Why not! It was sure to be silent, and i hadn't eaten anything, so i'm sure it would not smell.

.....

I pass gas.

I soak my pants.

About 1/2 a gallon of water is streaming down my pajama pants, and onto the floor.

I get up and RUN to the bathroom, I'm embarrassed and wet, more like soaked.

All the SALT water from the ocean that I had taken in my BUTT from my fall, was now lying under the dining room table.

I wanted to die.

I hope his family has forgotten about this dreadful incident.


Don't worry, I haven't wakeboarded since.

Bathroom confessions - Firehouse nightclub- part 1

Growing up in Miami - What an adventure! At 15, clubs were 18 and over... then the freakin' city decided to up the club age to 21, FORCING kids to get a fake ID. I mean, how else were we going to go out, and cause trouble?

Luckily for me and my best friend, for about 2-3 years of our lives we made friends with Miami Police, 2 cops to be exact. We would call them in advance to let them know where we would be going (usually Firehouse) and they would bring us Bacardi, which we would sit in the back of the cop car to drink before we even walked in the club.

You saved us lots of money! Thank you Miami Police!

Anyway, I must admit, they were nice cops, they always had our backs. At one point, my best friends Fake ID was taken at Mr. Moes in the grove, and he went out of his way to CALL the cop that had taken it, and picked it up for her at Bayside, where the cop would work during the day. Thanks Mr officer, now we could get back to going out sans problems! What a sweet guy!

I wonder where he is now....

So... Firehouse Brickell... Firehouse for those that don't know, was a club that was created in the same location as the original Brickell Firehouse (where fire fighters worked). They took the structure and made different rooms with different types of music in each room. Currently, this location is known as Dolores but you can call me Lolita. 

This was my favorite place to go on Fridays. It was a guaranteed good time. I would drink endlessly, and be less than a mile from home. And if things got bad, the cops would take me home if I really needed their help! Perfect situation for an 18-20 year old.

I must admit, when I was younger I did not know how to handle my liquor. I would drink t'ill the world was blurry. And this is what happens when you do that....

It was a typical Friday night. The vodka cranberry OJ mixed with bacardi from earlier, and most likely many shots was already in my system. It's time to use the bathroom.

As I walk in, there is a line. There was always a line. And women take FOREVER. I mean, really, I don't get why women take so long to pee!

So I'm in line, and to my left there is a wall size mirror where I see a girl is applying red lipstick. In my opinion, she was a bit too pale for the lipstick, but what do I know? Who am I to judge. 

I see her applying the gloss carefully on her lips, super up close to the mirror as if she was blind, and had no idea where her lips were.

At this time, I get a full view of her and realize - she has lipstick on her forehead! Maybe she IS blind! Maybe she really can't find her lips! I need to inform her that she has missed her lips and has gotten this really red lip gloss on her forehead and she cannot go back outside or she will be ridiculed by the drunken masses!

<< I'm such a good friend! Always looking out >>

I tap her on the shoulder and yell (i'm sure i can't hear myself)

"Excuse me, Umm... You have lip gloss on your forehead"

--- Silence, eye roll, she looks like she's about to punch me ---

She replies: "It's a birthmark"

((Insert cricket noises here))

I wanted to die. i'm such a bitch. a drunk bitch at that.

Bathroom stall free's up. I walk towards it. I look at her and say: Oops, I thought you missed your lips and got it on your forehead. I will be in the stall until you leave. 

I waited in the stall. no lie. i was there for at least 15 minutes... just waiting. I was really afraid she was going to hit me.

I never saw her again. thank god. 

So--- ladies, if you see someone with a red birthmark on their face or body... its not lipstick okay! Don't say I didn't warn you!

Kisses! Steph

Dear Matthew McConaughey, my friend didn't mean to fart in your face. Please excuse him. I love you, Stephanie

Hispanic Advertising. The one profession where if you are a creative (like myself), you get to travel to awesome places for TV shoots like: Uruguay, Argentina, Chile, Colombia, Detroit (lol) and California to name a few.

This story takes place on a business trip to California in 2008. AccentMarketing (my ex employer) sent me and 3 or 4 other people to Santa Monica, California to do some post editing work of a TV shoot we were doing for an Alltel Wireless TV spot.

Because I post everything on Facebook, I informed everyone I would be gone for a week, and to call my cell if they needed me.

Woohoo Cali! Here I come! It was my second time in California and we would be staying at the awesome hotel Marina Del Rey, located right next to the Shutters hotel. 

As we arrive to the fancy hotel, we immediatly spot Matthew McConaughey checking in solo at the lobby. My co-worker actually had to point him out to me because really, i'm so oblivious and live on a cloud I would have never recognized him, even if he took my bags to my room. 

Anyway, we stand behind him. And check in. I'm not much of a star stalker or care for famous people, so I made nothing of the situation. 

The concierge nicely informs us that if we would like to get drinks, we should go next door to The Shutters since it is known for being a hot spot for actors, and we could catch some famous faces.

See, that would sound interesting to me if i cared at all for that sort of stuff.

Rewind a couple days before this work trip: Before booking this trip for work, a good friend of mine had informed me he was going to vegas for vacation, and asked me if he could come to california to visit after his trip to Vegas.  He would come for the weekend, and stay in my room. I had no problem with this, he worked at Accent with me, and even though he was on vacation and I was working, the room was paid for by the company, so it was a win-win for everyone.

He shows up to the hotel 2 days after I arrive. YEYYY! I have a roomate! Now,we can catch up, tell stories, go to dinner, get drinks! It's like i'm on vacation too!!

One morning was different though, i'm pretty sure this all took place on day 4 of my California stay.

As the sun is comming out, the birds are chirping, its a beautiful Friday morning, I get up, and harass my friend to wake up! It's time to start the day! I open the blinds and start yelling (it's a routine Stephanie-style wake-up call)

My friend is not much of a morning person.

He finally gets up and informs me he has to pass gas. I tell him to go ahead. Pass it in the room. I don't care. I don't get grossed out. I'm pretty sure I was a man in a past life.

he tells me he's embarrassed and cannot pass gas in front of me.

SERIOUSLY! JUST FART.

he can't.

"Stephanie, I'm going to go to the hall and do it outside."

JUST DO IT HERE.

I CAN'T!!!! He opens the door, steps out, closes the door behind him.

not 4 seconds pass, and he's BANGING on the DOOR. not knocking, BANGING. POW POW POW yelling " Stephanie , please Open the door!

I run to the door, open it, I see him standing there, white as a ghost, speachless, shivering, quivering, you name it. he's mumbling " ma ma ma math math mathe mamammama"

WHAT.

I step out of the room -

in a wife beater. no bra. Pink pj pants, with a HUGE hole in the crotch, my hair in a bun on the top of my head- in what looks like a nest, and the previous nights eyeliner running down my face. only to see Matthew McConaughey walking down the hall towards my room (he was staying 2 rooms down) with his then girlfriend, now wife.

I freeze.

My friend is frozen.

The air outside my room is contaminated. it smells like a dead person. my friend has passed gas, and Matthew McConaughey is about to walk through it.

My friend pushes through the door, and we close the door behind us. we wait.

5 minutes pass.

Matthew McConaughey walked through it. We know he smelled it. We know he saw us. I know he knows what we did. 

UGH,Matthew McConaughey this blog is for you... I'm sorry. I apologize for my gassy friend. I still love you. <3, Stephanie

Steal from the rich and give to the poor.

For the past couple of years, I've had a minor problem. When I drink, I tend to "borrow" things, sometimes alone, sometimes in group... OR I convince others to "borrow" things.
But not for me! I never keep the things I borrow, I give them away!

Here are some stories of what I'm talking about:

4 years ago:

Me and 2 friends were doing some Saturday day drinking in the grove or gables, don't remember, when one of us, had the brilliant idea to give our friend David a gift.

David is the kind of person who is very generous and enjoys sending gag gifts to people by mail, or even leaving them outside of people's home (anything from inflatable chairs, flamingos, plants, bumper stickers, just plain crap)

Well, now it was our turn to return the favor, and give him something that WAS GOOD. Something he would remember us by FOREVER.

But what could be that good or impactful?

As the liquor filled our brains and flowed through our blood stream, someone mentioned a HUGE statue of David they had seen outside an apartment building in the gables a few days back... Then mentioned it was just standing out there and would be easy to take, and we could leave it outside David's house. PERFECT! a statue of David! For David!

We all get in my jaguar, and drive to the apartment building. Yes a jaguar -- We figured we would take my car, because WHO STEALS property, at 2 pm, in broad daylight in a JAGUAR in THE GABLES? no one. It would look like it was ours, and no one would ask questions.... Smart right??? ha.

I pull up to the apartment building, look at the statue from the drivers seat, and realize IT IS a lot bigger than what I had expected. AND IT'S PURE STONE.

My male friend gets out of the back seat, runs towards the statue, grabs it and pulls.

it doesn't move.

The statue is BURIED in the fucking soil.

OK. Picture this scenario: This statue is stone. and it's buried. and I'm driving so I'm not getting out of the car. my trunk is open. and my friend yelling "i can't, i can't, it's too heavy"

PULL! Me and the girl in the car are yelling PULL! COMMON! HURRY!

He wiggles the 300 pound statue out of the dirt, pulling on command, grabbed it and throws it in the trunk.

The car plops to the floor bc of the weight. It looks like I'm driving a hooptie.

"Hurry! Drive! Hurry! Drive!" are the only words coming out of him mouth.

I'm shaking.

I'm driving like 60 miles per hour through the streets on Miami like a fugitive on the run!

My friend turns to me and says: look, it was heavy, the statues leg broke. I left the leg behind.

We could not stop laughing!!!!

We drove to David's house, made sure he was not home, took the statue out of the car, and left it on the front door.

Mission accomplished.

T'ill this day, the statue remains at the front of the house. David has then moved from the house, but the statue was too heavy to move, so it remains standing naked, at some random person's house.

Here is a pic of the statue at David's house the day we stole it, with the missing leg:

3 years ago:

3 years ago I was invited to a Kentucky Derby party. This was the first time I had heard about the Kentucky derby, and that people had parties for this event ( i must have lived under a rock, or maybe just spent too much time at a club to realize this event even took place)
I was informed by my then boyfriend that I could invite friends, so i invited 2 girlfriends to join me at some random persons house in the grove. How bad could it be? There would be free drinks, it was during the day, all we had to do was show up.

Perfect. I gather the girls at the house and my BF drives us to the party. We get to the house, walk in, and see about 40-50 people, some in the kitchen making mint something and some type of tea with alcohol drink, others in the living room, some in the back yard, some playing cricket. None of whom I've ever met in my entire life. So i stick to the living room, literally double fisting drinks. Me and my friends get bored. it happens when you don't know anyone.... so we keep drinking.

I don't recall how much time passes, or what happens, i really think i blocked it out, all i remember is that we are by the front door, on the way out and i see 2 wooden-like/ maybe stone dog statues. UGLY, UGLY statues, but I'm like a little girl in a candy store!

I love the dogs! I want the dogs. I'm going to take A dog. or maybe I'll convince my friend to take it....

Hey _____ Grab it, put it in the car.

Without even thinking about it, she grabs the dog and runs out of the house.

I can't believe she took the dog! I'm cracking up.

We run outside. My BF is still in the house and so is 1 of my GF's who we brought. They are slowing down the getaway process.

I'm outside with the dog wrapped in a hat -- the large ones for the derby, and screaming "let's GO!"

They get to the car, and we explain WE HAVE TO GO.

They don't know whats going on until my friend reveals the goods in the car, and says "Stephanie made me do it"

Made her? I did not have a gun! all i said was take the dog! i didn't think she would actually take the dog!!!



What the dog looked like sort of-- sort of, but i think it was darker, and had a tongue... :

Now what? it's 6 pm... it's early, and we have an ugly stone dog with us.... to keep the rush going, we drive around brickell with the dog, making randoms take pictures with it. and Even take it to dinner and drinks at the Conrad, make the chef take a picture with it.... it was all in good fun.

Until the next day.

I wake up, go to work, and I get an urgent 911 text message asking my BF to call him.

so i call. I think he's in the hospital.

he's not. he's shaking. His voice is quivering.

Conversation goes as follows:

Me: Whats wrong? Are you dying?

Him: no, I just got a call from my friend who invited us to the party. The owner of the house knows the dog is missing, he says its a family heirloom and someone saw your friend walk out with it. Owner says if we don't return the dog he will call the cops and press charges.

Me: Are you kidding me? family heirloom?? the dog is wood? it prob costs no more than $30.00! W/E take the dog back

Him: Stephanie, you stole private property, and now they are going to arrest me

Me: no one is going to arrest you. just leave the dog on the doorstep

him: I think you need to return the dog, not me.

Me: YEAH RIGHT! i don't even know these ppl. Just go to the house, leave the dog on the doorstep, ring the door bell, and run.

Him: ok.

Yup, he did it. We went to the house and left the dog on the doorstep in fear that he would get arrested. I don't know if he ran, but i do know we were never invited to another lame party again!

Thanks for the dog, and for all the great pictures!

P.S. I later found the dog at pier1imports.com for 59.99. Family heirloom my ass.


Needless to say I never stole a dog again. Well, anything noticeable to be exact.

Why it's important to love your job. Even if it's gay.

WARNING: The following story is not rated PG. its rated M for mature. if you don't want to see a male in a lime green velvet tanga, please do not keep reading. Thank you.


So 2-3 weeks ago, I attend a birthday party. I love birthday parties. The food, the music, the people... mingling, drinks, the usual.

Well, kinda the usual...

As the night progresses, things are going great. Drinks are flowing, People are drunk, Madonna videos are blaring on the TV, people are singing to Like a virgin... whatever.

Door bell rings. I run to the door thinking "ohhh another guest!"... it's the cops. ugh. party over.

He immediately asks: Is there a party going on inside?

Owner runs to the door, and answers: Yes

Now, keep in mind, party is inside a residential building, on Miami Beach. I grew up in a residential building and I know cops don't just show up, especially without prior warning from a security guard...


Before we know it, the Cop is in the living room, setting up his boombox (yes, boombox), plugging it in, and taking off his shirt to some type of tikki tikki music.


Everyone is in shock. Guys are screaming, yelling, laughing. I can't control my laughter, mostly because i know that the birthday boy, eventhough he likes the male sex, REALLY does not appreciate this erotic (or retarded) dancing.

As I look over to him, he's all red, has his eyes covered, is yelling for the cop stripper to stop. Instead the  Cop/ Stripper handcuffs him and throws him on his couch to then start dancing on top of him.

Balls in the face.

in a lime green thong.

pimples on the butt. It was so disgusting. I can't even imaging being the birthday boy at this moment.


Now listen, I'm all about strippers, transvestites, wierd things.. you name it, I'm REALLY open minded. If you know me, you know this. So what do I do? I get the best angle in the house. RIGHT behind the guy, who's sitting on the guy, who's dancing in his face. best shots of the evening. I've seen strip shows before, but not this up close and personal.


After the debacle, the stripper cop gets up, shakes the birthday boys hand (still in a thong), and then proceeds to dress. All the while, trying to convince everyone at the party that he is not GAY. That he just does this for money. UGH. I think I would have rathered a transvestite strip show.


Listen up male strippers out there, that say (and are convinced) they aren't gay, but yet, will dance at a gay man's birthday party for money.... here's a little reality check: not only are you gay, but you're a slut. Thanks for the peep show!


Here are some pictures from the night. Like I said, They are rated M for Mature.

Island of Adventures has instructions on their rides for a reason

So, if you are a Fl resident, you are more than likely to have gone to Universal Studios/ Island of Adventures at least 1 time in your life.

Well, I go ALL the time. Heck, I've been going since I was too short to even ride a ride. So you WOULD think that I would pay more attention to the warning signs on all the rides. And I have. I do. But only when it pertains to myself, bc i'm selfish like that.

Plus, I automatically think, young adults (anyone over 16-17) should be responsible for themselves. I'm no ones mom, especially not my boyfriends.

So here we are, a group of 6, from Miami, excited for a super fun-filled day at Universal Studios/ Island of Adventures on a Sunday, getting there in the morning, and returning at night.

These were the days where we had so much energy that 1 day trips were a great idea, and getting up at 6 am was no problem, even if you got in from Disney past midnight.

anyway, so we get in the park, and of course we have an order to our adventure, start at the Hulk, then Dr dooms thing a ma bob, then spiderman... and so on.

As you wait in the line for the Hulk (usually no less than a 60 minute wait), you can't help to stare at the riders screaming and watching all their shit fly out of their pockets or off their heads. What assholes. HELLO, you are going on a ROLLERCOASTER. why would you keep change, car keys, hats,sunglasses or anything in your pockets and/or head.

Stupid people. luckily for them, the Hulk has a HUGE net to catch all their belongings in case they need it.

Well, time passes, we ride the ride, woohoo fun.....great times. Continue with our day... get to Spiderman  (2 rides down) and my BF turns to me and says: I don't have the car keys. My heart drops. I feel an emptiness in my stomach. and say: WHAT.

He repeats: I don't have the car keys

I think, and say: I have AAA! don't worry! ( you see, at this point, i knew he had a spare key in his glove, so all we had to do was get in the car, and DUH! AAA opens cars!!!)

Perfect! All solved, we will continue with our day, and when we are done at the park, I will call AAA and they will come and save the day!

No problem. right? WRONG. Park closes, we get to the car, I call AAA, the guy shows up, and tells us after 5 min of trying to open the car that he cannot open the car because it's the new VW model and it does not allow for the hanger thing a ma bob to open it because its electronic, and it needs the key.

Ehh. FREAK OUT. Let's go to Plan B. The 6 of us return to customer service and explain to park employees that we lost our car keys on the Hulk ride. We are the assholes I was making fun of earlier.

Park employees ask us to sit and wait, and inform us that every night at 11 pm they remove the safety net under the ride, and bring all those things to lost and found in case someone claims their lost items. PERFECT! we will get the keys soon enough.

11 pm... rolls by. Net comes down. employee walks in with a plastic bag full of change, 2 sunglasses, 4 hats, and a camera..... no keys.

<<freak out again>> it's Sunday. VW is closed. Nearest VW for a new key is in ORLANDO (just FYI for VW owners). I have work at 6 am. i'm going to cry.

I ask for the manager, and explain our situation. We are poor. We need to get home. and we have no KEYS! He looks at me funny, but he seems to feel some sort of compassion for me. So he asks one of the employees to tell someone else to tell someone else to DRAIN the lake under the HULK.

ok, again, if you have ever been there, you know this is not a little lake. it's a BIG lake.

they drain it.

it's 2 am.

guy comes in at 2 am with a VW key that has been shattered into pieces and does not work.

i cry.

not because we don't have keys, won't be getting home, won't be going to work, or because i'm dating a retard, but at this point i'm crying because i got my period!!

YES. double FUCKING WHAMMY.

i calm down. i tell my bf i'm going to kill him. then i call my boss to explain my situation, and inform him I would not be coming in the next morning (i'm sure he didn't believe me)

We called our friends in GAINESVILLE to come pick us up , and 8 of us rode in a VW beetle back to gainesville where we slept the night, then got a ride to Orlando to get a key, and back to Tampa to get the car, to then go home to Miami.

Let me tell you. EVERY time i go to the park, i cannot help but know that lake can be drained, and that I was part of the group of assholes that drops their things on rollercoasters.

Moral of the story: read the signs at the park.

Fine. I gave in.

After many years of being told: "you should write a book" and " if your life was a TV show, I would watch it" I decided to cave in and write my embarrassing, retarded, unexplainable life adventures in this blog.

At first I asked myself : Do I even have material to write?? What could I possibly write about???

Then I started a list... and came up with a LONG list of stories that some might already know, and some might not... but are pretty funny (well, at least to me). I will try to not mention names,  I know many of us have professional lives, so I will not be putting anyone out there in any way, just myself. :)

Here is a list of the stories that came to mind, and will start with. They are in no particular order.

• What REALLY happens when your car keys fly out of your pant pockets when riding the HULK ride at Universal Studios  
• Male strippers who convince their customers they are not gay
• If you go to Ocho Rios, Jamaica and climb Dunn's river falls, follow the tour, not your crazy best friend
• The advantages of wedding crashing in Key Biscayne
• How I almost died, and told to live about it
• Dear Matthew McConaughey, we didn't mean to fart in your face
• Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. Call me a modern day Robin Hood
• Reason #2534 why you shouldn't attend a bachlorette party when on blood thinners
• You can win an entire Bahamian town over with just red bull and vodka
• How to sign up for free International trips at yacht shows
• The difference between a dingy and a boat. And weight limitations.
• Milwaukee vs. Miami (the good, the bad, and the ugly) 

Ok, that's 12 stories for now. I have a lot of writing to do... should be fun.

Enjoy!