When I was around 12, I used to have these epic Uno tournaments with my friend Meghan. We would play for hours and we would have single games that went through two or three reshufflings of the deck because we just couldn’t get down to zero cards. We even combined both of our Uno decks several times to make a gigantic draw pile. We were nerds.

But, anyway, we never played with anyone else. It was always me playing Meghan and that was it. I imagine I played my brother or sister or Dad once or twice, but Uno was really this showdown between us two. We were besties, but we fought all the time, and constantly accused each other of cheating and Uno was a real war. We would relish drawing forty cards and having a huge hand full of non-number cards. It’s a much better game when you play against one person, because every single non-number, non-regular-wild card means you get an automatic second turn. We would pile up all these cards and act all sad like we were losing and then go on this super bitchy rant, slapping down cards. “Reverse you, go back to me; skips you, goes back to me; draw four, goes back to me; draw two, goes back to me.”

She still lives across the street from me, but I haven’t actually conversed with her in probably three or four years. We just never cross paths, which is kind of weird. But, I still remember exactly how her room looked back then and how we couldn’t listen to music while we were playing and how playing Uno was something which was Very Serious for us. I’ve played Uno since, obvs, but it’s never the same. Games don’t last that long and there’s never anything at stake (like the fact that you get bragging rights for a week after the game is over, which was how long it took for the loser to stop sulking and trying to convince everyone that cheating had so obviously occurred).

My dad’s work was having some kind of company picnic sort of thing a couple of weeks ago, and they were playing games. He was even sent home with some, one of which was a card game called Rats. It’s kind of the opposite of Uno (you want to end up with all the cards instead of none), with absolutely no strategy. Like bizarro Uno mixed with war.

It sucks when you lose at a game that takes real strategy. It sucks even more when you lose several times in a row in a game that is completely based on luck. Because, then, well, you’re not a bad card player. You’re just a natural loser. I lost twice in a row at this game tonight with Sal.

But, then we decided to play one more game before going to bed. One more game which lasted over half an hour and literally drew blood at one point (the result of an attempt to snatch up extra cards gone terribly awry). Uno 2.0? Maybe not. But, all I’m saying is, I won that last epic game, and I’m going to be talking about it until Sally finally asks for a rematch.

Tuesday, October 31st.
After I hit into that door on Saturday night, I had a huge bump on my head, plus this swollen mess right between my eyes. So, it kind of looked like I was turning into a cat. That was my Halloween day Halloween costume. It was pretty gross.

But, anyway, we had a fun Halloween. We decorated the porch (we also decorated all throughout the house), as usual. This year…

We had lights and a pumpkin around the door.

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Saturday, October 28th.

Sal finally came up with a costume. If you’re not from the east coast, you probably have no idea what Utz are, but anyway. She’s the Utz girl! Isn’t that cute? I knitted this wig last year and knew it would come in handy eventually. And our mom’s been telling her how much she looks like the girl on the Utz chips bags for years. So, she was the Utz girl. And Dana (that’s our sister-in-law) was a has-been movie star. And I was, as I said, the karate loser. We’re too hot for the world.

Anyway, Saturday night was supposed to be the big night for going out for Halloween since the 31st was on a Tuesday. And we figured we’d just go to the bars in town, because then no one would have to drive. Anyway, we went to this one bar called Red, which is overpriced and pretentious, but they were supposed to be having a Halloween party. Um, except nobody was in costume. Well, a few people in the back room upstairs were dressed like they were from the 20s (the theme of the night), but for the most part, we were getting insanely odd looks. It was almost Halloween! Lame. Anyway, we stayed for one drink and then moved on.

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Thursday, October 26th.
I had this dream before I woke up on Thursday morning that I had found my brother’s old karate uniform and had gone out for Halloween as the last place contestant in a karate competition – you know, face all beat up, 10th place ribbon. And, yes, I realize that people don’t actually get that “beat up” at karate competitions ’cause there’s not a lot of punching or anything, but whatever. The Karate Kid didn’t look too rosey after the Cobra Kai kids went up against him. And besides, it was a dream.
But, anyway, when I woke up, I remembered the dream and I thought to myself, “That’s actually a good idea for a costume.” And I mean, how often does that happen – you dream something and actually end up finding it useful?
So, that was my costume. But, Sally still didn’t have one, so we decided to go to the Halloween store and look for some stuff. We mostly just wanted new wigs to play with, so we ended up buying two. Plus, these horrible masks that make you really wonder who approved these to be manufactured and sold.
They’re made of clear molded plastic – there’s a man mask and a woman mask. We thought about walking in the front door wearing the wigs and the masks, but we were worried my mom would have a heart attack, because you look like some kind of plastic surgery monster in these things. So, we walked in with the wigs, but gave her a little bit of preparation before we put on the masks. Because, well, this is what we looked like:

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So for some random, freaky reason, it’s been a pretty warm January. But, warm in this way where it’s raining and cold on the weekdays (I mean, FREEZING, especially on the days that I just happened to decide to go up to New York to visit people) and then it gets really warm and sunny on Saturdays. I mean, how often does that happen, right?
So, anyway, we’ve been trying to take advantage of the nice weather, and last Saturday we went down to Long Beach Island with our parents.

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I know, I know, I know. We’ve been totally neglecting this blog. And really with no good reason, unfortunately. Our friend Anna set us straight and told us to update. So, here I am.
I was just outside for a while, working on putting up the Christmas decorations on the front porch with our Mom. She hates doing the outside decorations because it’s cold outside and there’s a lot of going up and down on the ladder (which I hate myself), but I love it because it means it’s almost Christmas. Yeah, I get a little worked up this time of year because I start thinking about all the fun Christmas stuff and you’ll often find me sitting by myself and smiling like an idiot because I’m getting all excited. But, anyway, the decorations look good (if I do say so myself) and, as usual, Mom got into it. She’s just as excited as I am, she’s just better at hiding it.
Oh, but here’s something super exciting. So, we did this designer’s market in New York last weekend and it was kind of slow going all day, and we were kind of bored out of our minds by about five o’clock, when who should walk into the joint but Elizabeth Berkley. ELIZABETH BERKLEY! Of Saved by the Bell and Showgirls fame! Yes, that Elizabeth Berkley! And she wanted to buy this scarf from us, but her friends/husband/whoever they were were all, “Elizabeth, we gotta go.” So, Elizabeth, if you’re reading this, listen. We will totally hook you up with Snow Bunny if you still want it. And, girl, don’t let your friends push you around. Jessie Spano wouldn’t put up with all that mess.
So, anyway, few sales, even less traffic, and barely decent chicken soup (but, I must say, kick ass fries) pretty much would have summed up our entire trip into New York for this show, but Elizabeth Berkley almost buying a scarf from us really put it over the top.
Oh, and speaking of liking our mother, if you’re looking for an awesome movie to watch, I have a recommendation. And no, it’s not Showgirls, unless you’re catching the edited-for-tv version on VH1 or LOGO where they CGI shirts and bras on all the topless ladies (and sometimes CGI thongs on them, too!) and the chick they got to dub in for E.B. sounds ABSOLUTLEY nothing like her. But, anyway, you should watch You’ll Like My Mother starring a very young Patty Duke as a pregnant widow who goes to stay with her creepy ass mother- and brother-in-law (or are they?) played John Boy Walton, who lock her in the attic and try to steal her baby, or something. I don’t really remember the plot all that well, but just rest assured that it’s awesome and you should definitely watch it. And then give a shout out to Elizabeth Berkley, our new best friend. What’s up, girl?

Sally and I and some friends went out dancing the other night at this “start of the summer” 80s night thing. I mean, we had a good time. There were plenty of 80s movie-themed drinks, and only, like, every fourth song sucked. But, we were dancing and acting ridiculous, and everything was, for the most part, fine.
But, the problem? ‘Cause there’s always a problem? Nobody else was dancing! Every once in a while a couple of other people would venture out onto the dance floor for a song or two, but for the most part, it was just us five. Which, to be honest, is pretty much fine with me because I will gladly take a wide open dance floor where I can bust a move without fear of a) being sweated on by a stranger, b) being forced to dance with a stranger, c) being accidentally touched by a stranger, or d) slamming into a stranger while I’m doing a theatrical rendition of Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen.
However, seriously, what’s the point of getting yourself all gussied up, rounding up your friends, and specifically going to a bar where there is a decent sized dance floor and crazy 80s dance music being played if you’re just gonna sit at the bar like a lump? At least dance to one song.
Anyway, there was one really square guy that wanted to dance. But, when he came up to us to ask if he could dance with us – with the most cheestastic line in the history of lines (“Is this a closed party, or can anyone join?”) – Sally thought he was the manager. So, she thought we were getting kicked out. Or, at the very least, asked to leave the dance floor. But, he danced with us for one song (or, you know, stood there and moved his arms around a little) and then we all headed home. We can’t be expected to carry the whole club, can we?
The moral of my little story is that if you’re going somewhere where there’s a big dance floor, go out and dance. And if you can’t dance, at least go out with your friends and sing along with what they’re playing (unless you’re going to a rave, or something, where there isn’t any music with words … do raves even exist anymore?). Unless you see me there. ‘Cause then you might just want to stand back.

Oh, yeah, and I knew all about the fact that Jason Priestly almost died, but Mary over at Sparkle and Shine Designs informed me that his face was, like, torn off and he had to get facial reconstructive surgery. And that, kids, is why he looks so totally bizarre. It’s just like when that guy that was in Creed got in an accident and his face blew up to 150X its normal size. Well, it’s not really like that at all, now that I think of it, because that guy was just on some kind of face-fattening medicine or something. Jason Priestly has, like, a whole new face.

Woah, are we behind on picking that prize, or what? I PROMISE, tomorrow we’re digging into our bag of names, err, e-mails. Oh, my God, you’re so excited!

Hey, who’s watching that show where those d-list celebrities dance the cha-cha tonight? It’s awesome.

love.