I had no intentions of returning to Southern California until August. Tis BFF’s birthday and the Cowboys are in Oxnard for training camp then San Diego for a pre-season game. However, three weeks ago BFF calls with the news she’s scored tickets to the Eclipse premiere. I’ve NEVER hid the fact that I’m a Twi-hard, so I’ve no taste for your haterade. Just be thankful the squealing 14 year-old stays contained within. And besides, I promise this is going somewhere.

At the premiere party...check out that mad tan line!

Although my financially-sound, better judgment attempted to be the decision maker on whether or not to fly out, it took all of 18 hours for it to be overpowered by my dominant better half who has a penchant for obsession. Not to mention my entire self needed a getaway before I went bananas in a bad way at work. So a plane ticket was booked, a dress was bought and the Disneyland annual pass was ready to go. It was time to go back, back to Cali, Cali. I must admit mixed feelings ensued. I’ve enjoyed my life in Dallas thus far, despite a work load and temperatures created by the Devil himself. I have a great duplex in a neighborhood I’ve wanted to live in for forevs, a 13-minute commute and access to all my long-term friends and family. The only thing missing right now is football season and the Spanish and/or French lover I’m on the hunt for to tide me over till I finally get my hands on Taylor Lautner (more on that later, duh!). So I knew this trip could have it’s emotional consequences. And it did, more so than I’ll tell anyone in person. I do NOT – let me infinitely repeat, do NOT – miss Los Angeles. The traffic, lack of parking, soul sucking atmosphere and kryptonitic cute Jewish boys…get a sister outta there, stat. However, California (not to be confused with LA, they are NOT one and the same) I miss so much it hurts my heart. I spent quite a bit of time on the beach at Crystal Cove (Newport) and it’s all I could do not to leave LAX in tears on Saturday. Had I possessed a job or a man I loved and gotten the hell out of LA, I don’t think I would have left. In no way do I regret my decision to move back to Dallas, I did what was best for me at that (and this) point. Having said that, there was a moment on Saturday morning, right as the sun broke through the June gloom, with my toes in the sand, that I realized the rest of my life is TBD and I am okay with that…FINALLY.

Breakfast with BFF on the beach...pure perfection!

So the entire trip was as perfect as it could have been. The premiere was fun, although  I DEFINITELY almost went bananas in a terrible, very bad way whilst in the trillion-person line to retrieve our cell phones after the screening. I fell absolutely, positively in love with little Taylor all over again. I still want to put him in my pocket, feed him Reese’s Puffs cereal and let him watch football with me. (If that’s all you think I want to do with/to him…you’re delusional). ANYWAY, pros of the after party were mac-n-cheese, Crumb cupcakes, champagne and I managed to look hot. Cons of the after party were decorations that looked like an illegitimate, deformed child of a  Costco camping display and a really bad prom. Carnations and fake snow do not make an appropriate center piece for most occasions, most of all for a premiere party for the biggest movie of the year. Just saying.

So TO THE POINT…the celebrity guest list for this gig was leaked hours before. It so happened to include Kim Kardashian. You just had an A-HA! moment, right? Let me just say, as far as I know, she wasn’t there. On the off chance she was and I ran into her (i.e. stalked her down after a bottle of Cabernet), I made a solemn public promise to friends and fellow Cowboys fans on Facebook that I would not cause a scene. Although I have tried to stay Team Switzerland on this issue, it appears I must make an official statement on the RUMORED union of Miss Kardashian and Miles Austin.

Let there be no mistake, the day I found out, my intern thought someone had killed one of my dogs and I made multiple threats (in my head) to cancel my Shoe Dazzle account. After sleeping on the issue, I discovered I’m as okay with it as possible. There are many reasons to actually like Kim, other than the fact she’s smoking hot. She has a real figure, talks about her cellulite publicly and started a shoe of the month club. And I gotta give her mad props for moving up in the football player food chain. The only set back in my acceptance of their RUMORED relationship was on Friday during cocktails with my Cowboys group in Santa Monica, I was informed that Kim and Miles were apparently cozied up one night at Casa Vega…my absolute favorite restaurant in my former neighborhood. Not gonna lie, I felt a little violated.

But you can take it to the presses that CLSL is officially, albeit maybe a little begrudgingly, okay with Miles Austin dating Kim Kardashian. But probably only till the Taylor Lautner high wears off. Let’s be honest.

You know you’ve been away too long when you come back to find the ads pop up for you as Overstock.com and some political campaign. Someone needs to get her priorities straight. Having said that, I have every intention of getting back into the swing of things. If I don’t die of mosquito bite poisoning. For those of you keeping score at home -  Mosquitoes: 26; Nikki: 0. Welcome back to Texas.

So this is what actually happened while you thought I was dead and look! I have pictures to prove it!:

1. The Cowboys beat the Eagles in the last game of the regular season to secure home field advantage in the Wild Card game. Yes, we’re going back that far. Because I can and life was good. Vindication for that bitch slap of a game we went through at the end of the previous year.

My last regular season game with the Cowboys group, sad!

2. The Cowboys ALSO beat the Eagles in the Wild Card game. 100 words could not describe how I felt that night. If God himself came down to Santa Monica and took me away I would’ve offered him a tequila shot and gladly gone with a smile on my face and “Such a Night” playing in my heart. Instead, I was left to my own drunken devices here on Earth. Too much Patron + Cowboys playoff victory that also marked the pillaging of the Eagles THREE TIMES in one season + random encounter with a cute Dallas boy who was also on a victory high = very questionable judgment.

It’s almost a blessing to my emotional state (and reputation) that we didn’t go any further in the playoffs.

I always ended up in the middle of these pictures. But look at that face! It was like my birthday and Christmas and possibly Valentine's Day all ended up on the same day!

...and I never stopped smiling.

Sorry just had to post one more. Best night ever. We waited a LONG time for this. And Mike looks like a pimp in this picture.

3. The Longhorns made it to the National Championship. And that’s about all I have to say to that. Not only did Colt McCoy and Jordan Shipley have to go through the most terrible “what the f**k was that sh*t?!” championship game, um, EVER…they both were rewarded with one-way tickets to careers in Ohio. Insult to injury, much?

They did not hook 'em...

Trust me, there is more…

..Continue reading..

I blame a lot on Patron right now. I’m on a strict no Patron policy for the foreseeable future until I can trust myself again. Regardless, I’m back. Possibly because I’m tired of people asking me why I’m not writing anymore. Possibly because I know I have to do something other than read the Twilight books, eat Chinese food, bake cupcakes, hang out with gay guys and Feng Shui my apartment. See what happens to me when I’m going through football and hockey withdrawals AND dealing with a broken heart? Ridiculousness ensues. Having said that, I’m still cranky. So I’d like to complain about all the things I find wrong with sports during the summer months (including the two months we just lived through):

1. The Lakers. Ugh. Their fans ANNOY ME. Most of all, and I’ve mentioned this before, the traffic they cause during playoffs is the bane of my existence in Los Angeles for however many weeks it takes them to end their season…I pray to God for early elimination. Oh but that’s right, they’re not the Mavericks.  Anyway, I know LA traffic sucks balls every other day of the year. But game day traffic makes my commute home even more unbearable than it already is. Because all these rich ass h0les who live up in the valley are the epitome of fair weather fans and only go to games when 90% of ticket prices are in the triple digits. Between the income loss of the writers’ strike and the cost of the Lakers parade and now the Michael Jackson Memorial…I think I saw the Mayor of Los Angeles selling cherries on a street corner. Every penny counts these days, I hear.

2. Stupid playoff songs. I mean, really? The birthday sex song is painfully lame enough as is, inserting a team name and additional mentally challenged verses into it isn’t going to make it better. Just saying.

3. The NHL playoffs. It never fails that whoever wins the Stanley Cup, I lose. I need to just give up thinking there will be a team in the playoffs that I can cheer for through all four rounds. My taste in teams is much like my taste in guys. They’re amazing during the regular season when it’s all fun, games, drinking and screwing around…but when it comes to playoffs and the time to get serious and committed? Forget about it. It’s just MUCH easier for them to watch it all go down from a distance or on the golf course. Apparently the Stanley Cup and I aren’t worth extra effort. But on a lighter note, we both love champagne!

Now having said that, what was a loss for me was actually quite a gain for the NHL (and a total wet dream come true for Gary Bettman). The Detroit Red Wings playing The Second Coming of Jesus (and oh yeah the rest of the Penguins) in a game 7 on a Friday night on network television. I’d love to know how many times Bettman had to dry an eye or change his pants.

4. OTAs. More like WTFs. It’s like weeks of hot and heavy foreplay knowing you’re not getting any real action for THREE MORE MONTHS. It’s excruciating. Cock teases, much? And what’s that you say? Roy Williams had a few good catches today? GREAT, he’s good at a little over the shirt action, but talk to me again when the clothes come off. Don’t even get me started on the Cowboys draft this year. The sexual analogies I can make with that aren’t very ladylike. And my parents might be reading this.

5. Baseball. I tried it. Turns out I just don’t care. And what’s the point of even trying to care before the all-star break? SERIOUSLY? I’ll go to a Dodger game any day of the week (or a Rangers game if I was home), drink too much beer and have a hot dog…but don’t make me watch on TV and for the love of all that’s holy, don’t make me log into my fantasy team. Cause I stopped doing that almost two months ago. Trying to figure out why no one has asked to trade for my good players yet, actually.

6. The Stars losing their collective minds…again. Since I looked at the Kings two seasons before this last one and thought to myself “hey, THERE is the type of coach I want on my team!”

Ah, I feel better now.