Monthly Archives: February 2010

Lessons from the Jersey Shore

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In January, my dear friend Milo (aka my Sugar Daddy) announced to us that he would finally be taking the plunge and was moving out of Pacifica and into the city. This brought me more joy than I could have ever imagined…until…he announced that to celebrate his move, he would have a housewarming event Jersey Shore Style. I didn’t think it was possible, but he outdid himself and I was estatic!

The party took place on Saturday night (after Friday’s Blonde Bombshell shenanigans). I began preparing my ensemble about two weeks prior. My research included marathons of Jersey Shore, Real Housewives of NJ and The Nanny, as well as key word google searches including, but not limited to: The Situation, Snookie, Wet Seal, fake tanner, etc. LESSON ONE: I discovered several themes here: dresses are short, heels are high, breasts are large and body is tan.

I, along with my fun-time colleagues, take costumes very serious. Three days prior to the event we began a tanning regimen. I was slightly concerned about showing up to work on Monday with an orange tint, but I was reassured by the label it would wash off…(I’m very trusting of packaging).

On Saturday evening, I completed my final tan. My hair was colored black, teased and thrown up in a claw clip. My ensemble was completed with a negligee, blazer and heels. Our ‘getting ready party’ took a couple hours, but was totally worth it. The result was this:

(SIDE NOTE: A ‘getting ready party’ is simply a gathering of ladies, and sometimes gay men, at a time where ensemble requires in-the-moment feedback. To officially be titled a ‘getting ready party’ three people must be in attendance and it must only be held under the following circumstances: costume or theme party, NYE, Halloween, Birthdays or Bachelorette Party. In college these occurred nightly in the dorms and at Cozy, but now that I’m a real person, it takes a lot more to justify.)

Back to the Shore…I was impressed to see 85% off the guests had opted to participate in the theme. Typically you don’t see these kinds of numbers. This only goes to show how clearly amazing (and manipulative) Milo and his three fantastic-lady roommates are. Here are just a couple of Jersey Shore-esque examples of clothing and accessories I thought were worth featuring…

Coy & Bedazzled Muscle Tee / Bling Watch that Spins / Booty Shorts & Ed Hardy Tee / Press On Nails

The night began with a little vodka/cran flip cup…Unfortunately for everyone (except me) the keg was tapped upon our arrival, so we were stuck with the good stuff…Milo even trusted us with glass cups. We were there for a couple of hours…we did it up fresh and Italian style…


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As the party started to die down Mary and I decided it would be best to head to the bars to try and meet up with anyone who was still out…(Mind you it’s 1am at this point). Sooo we head over to Mauna Loa’s with Brian, completely forgetting we are in the most obscene and slutty outfits ever. As I get out of the cab, I immediately feel eyes stare at my from a distance. Lots of judging going on here, but it’s mostly females giving us dirty looks.

LESSON TWO: The way to a man’s heart is apparently through my breasts. I don’t think it’s a shock to anyone to say I have large breasts but I pride myself on not dressing like a sleuter showing them off all the time. The Jersery Shore costume was an exception and made quite an impact on the Triangle vicinity between the hours of 1:00 & 2:00am on Sunday morning.

After the bars we headed over to Jon and Brian’s with Brian and Dave…After passing out for a bit to Super Troopers, I thought it best to head home to spend the night with my puppy. John kindly walked me out and hailed me a cab. Upon entering the cab, the driver inquired “Is that your boyfriend?” I replied, “No, just a friend.” And he replied, “You mean a client?” WTF? During Sunday morning’s ESW brunch recap, I came to learn Mary too had been mistaken for a prostitute on her way back to my place…

After seeing this photo, it came to no surprise to learn LESSON THREE: It’s easy to be mistaken for a hooker in the middle of the night when you’re dressed like you’re at the shore. (Note: How ridiculously tan I look in comparison to Mary.)

P.S. You wondered why I named this site “I Left My Dignity in San Francisco.” I can practically name the cross streets of where my dignity remains…Van Ness and Green in this case.

Money’s My Name, But Not Because I Know Finances

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Does anyone else think it’s wierd that in a four hour span you  can get the following emails from your bank headlining…

  1. Overdraft Protection Advanced
  2. Are You Ready to Buy a Home? Find Out More Today

If I’m clearly unable to pay the bills I currently have, what makes my bank think I’m ready to puchase property? I mean seriously.

The Birthday Month Continues…Thanks for powering through friends.

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I typically start planning my birthday celebration in December, specifically around December 26. I look forward to each passing year’s mark as a reason to party, and preferably not just on February 4th, but for the entire month. I’m going to assume last weekend will be the final celebration before my friends start bitching, so here’s just a quick recap and thank you to all those who came out!

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What was supposed to be a quiet dinner party for a couple friends turned into a gathering of all sorts…from Mickey’s 40s to Margaritas we were celebrating in style!

Thanks to Kellan for her delicious cake….and to Rosie for the boozy cupcakes (yes, there’s liquor inside).

After our fantastic fajita feast we headed to the one and only KT’s for some cocktails and good times…Loved the Sevens, the booth, the free drinks (thanks to my sugar daddy) and of course, the company!

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Oh and thanks to this SCU alum (who I had previously only met one time) who provided me such a good laugh during our Sunday morning weekend recap…On our way out of KTs he awkwardly hopped in our cab, joined us for a slice of pizza, came back to our apartment, blended up some margaritas and passed out in my room. I only wish I had seen his face when he woke up the next morning…classic.

Do Blondes Have More Fun?!

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You may or may not know Barbara. If you do you know she is the sweetest little lady in the world…And for as long as I (and maybe you) can remember she has had long, flowing blonde hair. (Ironically, however, her nickname has never been Barbie.) Aside, this past week was her birthday and in true Folsom fashion we threw her a fantastic theme party: Blonde Bombshells in celebration of her blonde locks!

I decided to go a bit on the classy side and utilize the flapper costume I’ve had sitting in my costume box for the last six months.

(SIDE NOTE: Yes, I have a costume box. So in fact last month I headed down to Bed, Bath and Beyond to get a new one because my current container no longer had room. And yes, I have costumes purchased for themes that have yet to even occur.)

Despite my trying to keep it classy, very few others did. You’ll notice Jenna Jameson and Pam Anderson sluttin’ it up…Aside, it was a fabulous party. We danced with Lady GaGa and partied with Paris Hilton…

Once we killed the champagne we headed to North Beach…We were a sight for sore eyes…Cocktails at Amantes and dancing at Maggie McGarry’s. The night ended with a delicious slice from Golden Boy and a sleepover with Cait…

Saturday morning I awoke to a vicious hangover  and six bitches pounding at the front door for brunch. We layered on the jackets and headed into the cold for an outdoor brunch with Lola and the ladies. All in all…a great weekend…but I have to admit, I like me best as a brunette. Sorry blondes…


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Is it true? Are John Montgomery and I meant to be afterall?

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In order to fully appreciate tonight’s post, I highly recommend you read “Michael Longly, You Are My Savior!”. In the case you’re being lazy, in sum, I pretended to have a fake bachelorette party in Vegas to get free shit. My girlfriends and I make up a fiance named John Montgomery who I had supposedly met at college. The details of his persona included childhood schooling, family history, employment plans, proposal story, etc.

Upon our return from Vegas we learned that John Montgomery was actually a real person! He went to school at Loyola Marymount University and had almost the identical back-story (minus our proposal, of course). My housemates found him on Facebook and even realized our own roommate Lizzie was acquaintances with him back when she was at LMU! Pure craziness…

Soooo fast forward FIVE years later… It’s Thursday night last week and I’m grabbing a cocktail with Adrian, Mark, Christie and Sean at Paxti’s (which is delicious BTW). We’re sitting at the bar and Adrian’s totally hitting on the bartender. He asks her what’s she’s doing after she gets off work, like she’s never heard that pick up line before (no offense Adrian). She then starts to go off on how her neighbor has been stalking her for the past couple of months to go out on a date (creepy, but whatever) and she finally agreed to meet him for a glass of wine that night(do girls really give in that easy…I guess it’s none of my biznasty). For whatever reason this girl decides to share entirely way too much information about the situation, including this guy’s name: John Montgomery.

WTF?! I immediately freak out with excitement and learn that is indeed JM from LMU. Turns out he lives here in the Marina only a few blocks away from me…I haven’t stalked him or anything (’cause that would make me creepy), but I feel like this may be some sort of wierd fairytale…hopefully more to come…

1400 or so Days Later and I Got Arrested

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To protect my mother’s precious image of my youth, I will omit the details of my years in junior high, but let’s just say I was no angel. By the time it came around to my Freshman year in high school I had decided to start a new and leave behind the Boys (Goal #1), Booze (Goal #2) and Bad Decisions (Goal #3)…I would ultimately achieve this until, of course, the temptation of My Senior Year.

(Side Note: One thing you may or may not know about me…When I’m determined to do something, there’s very little to get in my way. I wouldn’t say I set unrealistic goals, so perhaps that’s why they’re more often that not achieved. In 2009, for example, every item on my “Wish List” was obtained. Well, everything with the exception of opening my own bar. I’m still working on that.)

So over the first couple of years I spent the majority of time with a group of Mormon girlfriends. I’m not kidding when I say the temptation of Boys, Booze and Bad Decisions were absolutely NON-existent. I was once not allowed to enter my girlfriend’s house while wearing a tank top, for fear I would tempt the boys to think bad thoughts. True story.

Despite their ridiculous rules, these first couple years of high school contain some of my most favorite memories. It’s amazing how fun it can be to dress in costume, sleep on trampolines, conduct late night dance parties and eat at Red Robin (aka my first employer)…

Around my junior year, however, my Mormon girlfriends seemed to be more interested in finding a husbands than anything else…Since I was still determined to avoid such shenanigans, I became obscenely involved in student organizations. My friends referred to me as “Suzy Highschool” and a “Walking Hall Pass.” I was in everything from ASB to Honors Societies to Key Club to Senior Women to GLBT Club to Student Orientation Leaders to Yearbook and more. I, along with my friend Caitlyn, even started our own club to celebrate boobs called “Pink Ladies.” (FACT: To this day Pink Ladies remains the largest student organization at both the old and new Folsom high school campuses.)

Before I knew it, it was the summer before my senior year and the temptation to break Goal #1 (Booze) had finally overcome me. My first experience was at Caitlyn’s house, where I got shnockered off  Mike’s Hard Lemonade. While intoxicated I became paranoid the police were coming and I ended up hiding in a closet for two hours with my now best friend Blaire. Despite my drunken freak out, the next morning I realized from there out, I would welcome booze into my life with open arms.

Once Senior year officially began I had already given up on Goal #1 (Booze), but it dawned on me…it had been 1200+ days since I had kissed a Boy (Goal #2) and I hadn’t, for the most part, made any Bad Decisions (Goal #3). I incidentally shared the fact that it was forever since I had a man in my life and it became an obsession for my friends to find me one.

In yearbook class a countdown was posted on the board that lived the duration of the school year. It’s hard to see in this photo, but in our 2002 HS yearbook I am referred to as “Denise 1,339 Days Bertuccelli” under the editor’s notes.

By the time Senior Ball came around in June, I had still unsuccessfully met and/or kissed a boy…That is until Jeff (I’m pretty sure that’s his name). Jeff was a junior at another local highschool and was my friend Michelle’s date to the dance. I wouldn’t say we hit it off…we hung out over the course of the night, had a good time, but said goodbye assuming we’d never see each another again.

The Saturday before graduation marked close to 1400 days. I was headed out to a beach bonfire with my girlfriends, when my friend Michelle informed me Jeff was going to meet up with us. The bonfire was on the lake, right near the prison and required a short hike to the small beach hidden from the road. After a chugging contest with my friend Meghan, I opened my eyes to see Jeff walking towards the crowd. The details here become a bit hazy (I blame the smoke from the fire), but at some point this photo was taken:

My streak had ended, and so did Goal #2 (No Boys). But what about Goal #3 (Bad Decisions)? Well shortly after my makeout session, a helicopter came flying overhead. Turns out there was an escaped prisoner and they were searching the areas surrounding the lake. Where our group had set up the bonfire happened to be an illegal location. Before I knew it about 6 El Dorado County Police Department SUVs rolled up and I was handcuffed to this guy Ben. We were cited with misdemeanors and had to appear in court over the summer before college. There went Goal #3 (Bad Decisions).

**For the record this was the only time I have been in trouble with the law. Thank gawd.

Viva Las Vegas: 10 Days Isn’t Too Long

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I guess it’s sort of become a tradition, and with the coincidental timing of my conference at work, it just made sense to celebrate my birthday in Vegas again this year. So on Friday, February 28 I set off for my 10-day extravaganza in the beautiful city of sin… Viva las Vegas !

I was thrilled to be staying at The Mirage simply because of my several trips to Vegas I have only been to this hotel once… The last couple of trips I stayed at Caesar’s, The Wynn and Paris, so The Mirage had a lot to live up to…In my book, the first couple hours of your trip is indicative of how your entire stay will play out…So when I entered the baggage claim and found Diane with a sign for Mirage Limo Service and my last name, I knew I was headed in the right direction (literally).

The conference started on Monday, but I was there a couple days in advance to prepare for the opening night Fashion Show. Despite the several hours of work required Friday, Saturday and Sunday, I found time to party it up.

Day One: On Friday afternoon I was thrilled to discover my friend Adrian happened to be in Vegas celebrating the birthday of his childhood buddy. So after a delicious dinner with the team I headed over to Encore to meet up with Adrian and his all male review. Knowing I had to be up for a meeting at 9am, I tried my best to resist, but I couldn’t help but stay out with the guys…we wandered through the casinos and ended up back at Revolution for “Latino Night” (wierd, I know).

Day Two: Saturday was filled with work until around 2am when I decided it was a good idea to meet up with Adrian at The Wynn’s Tryst Nightclub. Let’s just say he had a friend I was ‘interested in’ and was willing, yet another night, to stay out a little late. (I now refer to Adrian as my good luck charm.) This resulted, of course, in the need for a nap on Sunday. (Again, thanks to my little lucky charm), it was a fantastic nap.

Days Three -Six: Once the conference began I was buckled down with business. Professionalism ensued. On Tuesday night I joined the team for some dinner, dancing and drinks at Pure. Such a good time. Oddly the girl from The Hills, Spencer Pratt’s sister was there. She is totally skanky. Gross. Unfortunately for me, Wednesday resulted in a HORRIBLE case of food poisoning for myself and a couple other peeps on my team. I took this as God’s way of saying, you need 40 hours of sleep for what’s about to happen. I acknowledged and slept through Wednesday straight to Thursday.

Day Seven: I was awakened by Cravings Breakfast Buffet (which I was barely able to enjoy) and the thought of my friends arriving in a short couple of hours. Milo and I enjoyed my first birthday cocktail before the Christie/Kristy’s arrived.

That night we went to the Michael Mina’s restaurant, Nobhill Tavern, and I ate a delicious meal of bangers and mash…Looking back this probably wasn’t the best choice in regards to a night of boozing ahead, but it was mmm good! During that meal Kristy #2 pussed out, puked and ended up going home after we ate. This left Milo, Christie #1 and I up to no good.

Over the course of the evening Christie danced on stage, I made out with a girl, we convinced a stranger we were swingers looking to meet some new additions and I earned a lot of free shots! (Don’t we look classy?!)

Day Eight: Friday was definitely one of my favorites! Myles showed up at Margaritaville after telling us he wouldn’t be able to make it. In true Myles fashion we had not idea he was coming to Vegas and while we’re enjoying lunch he shows up and says “Surprise” like it’s no big whoop! Oh gaysians…they’re crazy!

Friday night we had a delicious birthday dinner at Boa’s in Caesar’s. Great dinner…rounds of tequilla and of course, one HUGE birthday candle. (Despite my skills, I couldn’t blow this one out. Hopefully my wish still comes true.)

After dinner we headed to Pure (yes, my second night there). A fantastic table was awaiting us…vodka, a creepy guy named Ricky and a whole lot of dancing filled our night with good times! (Thanks to Milo for the CC that night!) After the club, we did some gambling and enjoyed a $20 sandwich the size of Mary’s head, all in the hopes our hotel room would eventually be freed up for us to sleep. (I’ll let you figure that one out). All I have to say is Stina, Blaire, Mary and I ended up in one of the two beds.

Day Nine: Despite going to bed at 5:30am on Friday morning, we weren’t going to let Saturday pass quietly. What was intended to be a breakfast buffet at Cravings (my third time there), ended in a bottomless mimosa brunch that lasted until 3pm.

Needless to say, we were drunk after our 18th or so bottle of champagne. (Thanks to our server Lee for the consistent refills. That was a hard earned tip.) The afternoon concluded with two people having some sexy time in the bathroom,  one person puking into a bucket in the closet and the rest of us dancing around while housekeeping changed the sheets (thank gawd).

As you can imagine Saturday night was not nearly as aggressive. It was my day nine and everyone elses’ day two/three. It was rough. We made it to dinner, a couple hotels, but couldn’t stay up past 3am.

Day Ten: On Sunday, as I boarded my place home to San Francisco, I thought to myself…despite what everyone says, maybe 10 days in Vegas isn’t too long.


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