I WANT to go to Rehab!

I need a vacation. It's been 3.75 years since I took a real vacation. You know, a vacation that you come back from refreshed, inspired-ready to take on the world by the MOTHER FUCKING BALLS!


A real vacation. Not a 'stay-cation' or a long weekend away. And I need this vacation asap. 

I started my vacation research and quickly discovered that my ideal vacation 4 years ago is very different from what I want and need now.

IBIZA! Sex. Drugs. Rock N Roll. Rinse, Lather, Repeat!

My ideal vacation now must include a giant dose of restful, peaceful, delicious, decadent, impeccable, blissful S*L*E*E*P*!

fat lil me, resting peacefully

I wouldn't mind reading a book on the beach, in a bikini, so my big, fat belly could protrude, full of yummy food. My big, fat belly, which I would rub lazily as I turn the pages of a book, would slowly tan in the warm sun, and prepare itself for the next delicious meal.

After doing as much vacation research as possible, I stumbled across the mecca of all vacations! REHAB! 

Fuck a vacation. I want to go to REHAB!!!

Look at this place. I am relaxed and refreshed already!  And hungry, did you see the gourmet meals? Those beds are so comfy and the pillows deliciously fluffy. 

The best part is I can talk about myself the whole time! I think I might pitch myself for the next Celebrity Rehab. I, of course, am not a celebrity. We all know that none of the 'celebrities' on Celebrity Rehab are true celebrities.


By definition, a celebrity is "a famous or well-known person". Look at the cast of Celebrity Rehab

Stage Mom=not a celebrity!

Fluffy drug addict heir=not a celebrity

Do you have any clue who they are? Me 'neither! Therefore, any non-celeb like myself can get on the show and directly into a vacation/rehab! I need to get myself an addiction, STAT!


Easy enough. I am highly addicted to espresso. I regularly consume 6-8 shots a day and can't get my brain to work before the 4th shot. I have chewed espresso beans and once considered snorting them (for a bet), since figuring out how to inject them was too long of a process to win said bet. I am so addicted to caffeine, that I will go to what I lovingly call 'The Evil Empire', aka, Starbucks to drink their so-called 'gourmet coffee' to get my fix. 


By definition, an addict is a person addicted to a habit or substance. And, I, Raquel, am highly addicted to caffeine. This is what I feel and look like if I haven't had any:

gimme some of that starbucks shit NOW

Of course, I would need some highly unresolved issues to talk about during my vacation, I mean, stay in rehab. Believe me, I have some unresolved issues:

#1 By 6th grade I had won 6 spelling bees. I competed and lost the 7th spelling bee and never, ever, ever competed again!

-I obviously fear competition.

#2 In 5th grade, Dickie grabbed my boob.

-I have been sexually harassed by men.

# 3 In 6th grade, Tom snapped my bra. I promptly elbowed him and broke his eyebrow. He has a scar and I was suspended from school. 

-I have anger issues.

I need to talk about them. You people read my blog, something is WRONG with me!!!!

The best part of vacationing in rehab is that I get bored, I can take drugs IN rehab! We all know that's where you can get the best shit! Don't you people watch Intervention ????

I really, really, really want to go to rehab!

-Raquel

I, Raquel, HATE the Holidays!!!!

I officially nominate myself as Grinch of 2010-without the wrinkles, grimace and hideous skin. Rather than spread joyous cheer, I have taken it upon myself to peeve about everything I don't like about the holidays. 

me! me! me!

What it boils down to is that the holidays are essentially a way for someone else to impose THEIR traditions on me...and I hate it when someone tells ME what to do! (insert stomping of foot)

Take Thanksgiving. No matter where I go, there is turkey. I am by no means a non-meat eater. A few years ago, I declared war on poultry-it's boring! 

i like it up the butt

Any and all foods that are nondescript are always described as 'chicken'. And turkey tastes, well, like chicken. Celebrating Thanksgiving guarantees that I will be subjected to poultry. No one, except a small number of self-respecting vegans ever challenge the turkey tradition. 

Christmas, of course, is THE holiday that really gets my beard. I am deathly afraid of Santa Claus. Any other fat man who grabs little children to sit them on his knee and listen to their sweet little secrets, while holding said child close to his groin, would immediately be listed on Megan's Law. 

look, it's Santa!!!

Yet, very few parents ever challenge Santa Claus! I once was a sweet, little girl who believed the unbelievable. One wintery December in NYC, Santa Claus picked me up from a crowd at Rockefeller Center and whispered in my ear: "What do you want for Christmas, little girl?" 

I promptly kicked Santa in his belly and punched him, as I screamed for dear life. 

Since than, my respect for anything related to the holidays has gone down the drain. So as the 'Grinch of 2010', don't tell me to be happy it's the holidays. And if you do, I will take my cue from Willow Smith and whip my hair back and forth! You haters!!!!

-Raquel

As featured in Project Peeve