cassy’s posterous

    Although you may not know it, there’s a small Asian-run hair salon down Boylston hidden in a shopping center next to CVS… This is where our story begins.
    It all started when my friend, Viviana, and I’s toe nails had grown to an epic claw-sized proportion. My blue nail polish slowly evolved into a disgusting, scraped-up hot mess that needed to be taken care of, ASAP.
    Viviana’s suitemate suggested some random nail salon that’s “cheap I promise,” so we finally made our way over one day after class only to see that the “nail salon” was in fact a run-down hair place that just screamed TETANUS.
    For some reason, we didn’t leave. In retrospect, the five-year old Us Weekly magazines should’ve been a huge warning sign.
    I don’t want to bore you with all the details about their strange foot massages that involved more pounding than rubbing or how they put so much massage oil on my legs that it felt like I had just come out of an orgy that involved lots and lots of lube, but let me just say that there was Palmolive dish soap involved to scrub our feet.
    Finally it seemed as if these crazy women, who kept alternating positions when they couldn’t perform a specific duty, were almost done molesting our toes. My toes had been painted an Emerson purple while my friend’s were a prostitute red that’s already chipping, FYI.
    Viviana and I were under the impression that, shit, if they didn’t even have a real pedicure chair for us to sit in or actual soap, our pedicures would be relatively cheap, but they turned out to be $30 – a pop.
    We left completely broke and lubed up from our “massages” but we somehow managed to slide our way to Piano Row, grateful to have all ten of our toes still attached to our feet.

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What can I say about the actual surgery? Nothing bad really, my problems all started later actually. The drugs and oxygen during the procedure were all really great. Sure he couldn't find my vein at first, but I was already too out of it from the anesthesia so I just wiggled a bit in complaint to which Dr. Perez said, it shouldn't really hurt... a-huh.

And you know, surprisingly, being awake and remembering everything from the operation wasn't that bad. Sure the weird noises and feeling the pulling and tugging was no fun - but I mean I pretty much kept my mind focused on the craptastic music playing in his office (Daughtry, if you must know).

Soon enough I was being wheeled out through the back with my little blue goodie bag filled with prescriptions for my five different pain pills and the two extra souvenir teeth that were behind my wisdom teeth. They were actually ridiculously small, leaving me to wonder if they were worth just how much we paid for them to be removed.

I'm not gonna lie, there were tears. Not exactly from pain but, shit, there were a lot of emotions going on. Anyway, the first two days after recovery are pretty much tied for being the longest of my life. No food, an intense amount of drugs, blood & gauze, and let's not forget neverending nausea.

A few hours after the surgery I began to feel this horrible stomachache coming on and I just got so scared that if I were going to throw up I'd hurt my jaw seeing as how I could barely even open it to begin with. But it came anyway - five times.

It sucked, it sucked and it sucked. Finally I was just able to pass out and the doctor finally decided to return our pages and halt all medication and prescribe something for the nausea. I pretty much cursed the Earth in those 48 hours and death upon the dentist who never called us back.

All I can say now is, Freeze Pops and Jello have become my best friends.

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Is it creepy of me to think this picture makes Chevy Chase look really hot?

Get out Belushi.

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Ever since I bought Lucy in third grade where The Monitor now stands thinking she was a full-bred chihuahua, she's been special to me. One of the few dogs my family ever had to make it past a year old, I can't say she was really a looker - but she was one of the best dogs anyone could ever ask for.

So here's to you Lucy, your legacy will live on in the million of 1/4 chihuahua, 3/4 who knows what breed they are pups you had during your wild years before we got you fixed. Miss you.

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Nothing to see here, keep on walking.

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So I guess we can successfully say that I am over Buffy the Vampire Slayer and moving on to bigger and a bit more complex television shows. What I really don't understand is why it just so happens that whenever I genuinely start to like a show, it's usually already canceled or was canceled prematurely (Freaks and Geeks).

Me and TV don't really get along. There's just something about how there's only one time you can catch a show once it's in syndicaton and on the air. Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do if I missed my True Blood on Sunday nights at 8? Wait around like a noob for reruns because my Mom is too cheap to get HBO On Demand? I think not.

So talking about getting off the subject, Dead Like Me is fresh and clever, something that is completely devoid in TV right now and lucky for me, all the episodes are on Hulu and Netflix Instant Watch.

Why do I get the feeling that my summer is just a mash-up of dozens of hours of TV watched directly from my laptop?

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Click here to download:

01 California Dreamin'.m4a (5657 KB)

Soccer, GPS systems and amusement parks. Mentioned are just a few things that really stick out from the four-day trip my Mom, brother and I took to California. A lot of shit went down, and by that I mean a hell of a lot of merging on the I-10 and 405, which can be one of the most terrifying experiences of your life.

On our first free day we just got in our rented Rabbit VW and drove. Drove for hours, entering random streets in LA that sounded particularly familiar to us into our GPS from Budget.

The next day we went to Universal Studios and did a crapload of fun things there, including the not-so-fun haunted house filled with characters from horror movies through the ages. I was literally shitting bricks whenever Dracula or Frankenstein would pop out of a dark corner to scare me.

On our last full day in California we drove down to Anaheim to hang out at Disneyland's California Adventures and jam in a bit of park time before having to carpool up to Pasadena's Rose Bowl for the Barcelona/LA Galaxy soccer game.

You know, I never gave a crap about soccer before that game. I heard there were 96,000 people in the stands, and I couldn't help but get into the cheering and screaming for my team.

It was just like going to all those high school football games again - I hate football and don't particularly care for the people playing but I was down on that field going apeshit over some pigskin just like everyone else.

Organized sports with giant scoreboards, the great equalizer.

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Thank God for Netflix Instant Movies. Napoleon Dynamite but with a plot... and actual humor.

ANY movie where you can root for the character that says he's "gonna rape you at three" has got to be a dignified cult classic. And besides, who can't relate to having an older brother obsessed with going to an Ivy League school or a Jon Benet clone for a little sister.

Weinerdog forever.

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Thirty pages in and I'm still awwing over kittens, bunnies and puppies.

During cuteness panel last night with Carlos and Ruby we decided upon which animals did and did not make the cute list. Memorable animals not making the cut include birds, bats, possums, pigs and lambs.

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Looking back I don't even know how I ended up finding the entire show on Hulu but I will now sum it down to fate. I'm on season three right now and kinda losing interest seeing as how I know the formula by heart.

I think I'm in the phase where Willow needs to grow a spine and Elisha Dushku's skankiness is turning downright homicidal.

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