Category Archives: Holidays


This year for Thanksgiving, I’m still thankful for all the normal stuff I always am; cheese, naps, the color yellow, that bum that told me I was pretty last year, my boobs, friends, family, blah blah blah.

Well, this year, now that I am in my mid-20’s and sporting my first, terrifying gray hair, I’m thankful for my graceful transition into adulthood. And not only am I accepting it, I’m embracing it.

There really is some fun stuff about becoming a functioning member of society. And without further ado, here is my list of the things that make me feel like a grownup:

  • I have an investment banker that controls my tiny, little 401K that is invested in a stock market that could possibly cease to exist by the time I retire.
  • I HAVE a 401K.
  • I finally have the confidence to ignore the pushy kiosk people at the mall.
  • I no longer strive to be the most famous female beat boxer, but now just to get Justin Timberlake to marry me because I’m a really good person.

    Definitely one of my proudest moments

  • My LinkedIn account has TWO real jobs in employment history.
  • I can type 87 WPM. Or is that text? Either way, it’s grownup.
  • I have business cards with a job title that isn’t: “Babysitter extraordinaire.”
  • My mom steals MY beer now.
  • I don’t want to go to Dupstep shows anymore.

    I wish I could take credit for this....

  • I no longer openly swear in public, all the time.
  • When my mom makes me sandwiches, I ask her to keep the crust on.
  • I don’t kiss random boys at the bars… as often.
  • Last night at Forever 21, I got a headache because the music was too loud.
  • I extreme walk in a more cautious manner.
  • I suck it up and eat the black jelly beans. Can’t let anything go to waste, we are in a financial crisis you know.
  • I think most everything fishnet is tacky.
  • I hate The Walrus.

    To be fair, they do have good drink specials and free pool at happy hour....

Happy Thanksgiving Y’all! Enjoy your Tofurky!

PS. Fun fact. As I was “researching” for this post, I ran a, “The Walrus Boulder” Google image search to find a logo I could deface. Aaaand if you want to find something funny, run the same search and see what the 11th result is….


It’s the Most Wonderful Day of the Year

On Saturday, my whole world came crumbling down. I was doing my hair, my long, luscious hair, when something caught my eye. Right there in the middle of my part, a shiny, white hair. A GRAY FREAKING HAIR. I made Kassity pull it out of my head and after she did that I curled up in a ball and cried and thought about how I’m going to die alone in my apartment and my 50 cats will eat my face.

Scared? You should be. This was my crazy cat woman costume for Halloween last year

Which then reminded me, my birthday is next week. Have you decided what you’re getting me yet? Some ideas:

  • Ninja Stars
  • Yellow Flowers
  • Whiskey
  • Cheese
  • Via Starbucks Instant Coffee
  • Nurf Guns
  • A new, less evil cat

    Put this all in a basket and call me the happiest girl on earth

I actually do love birthdays, obviously. A day dedicated to celebrating me being alive? Of course I love it! However, this year I’m a little irked at the thought of turning another year older. And it’s not just because of the gray hair. I’m pretty much the baby in most social groups I fraternize in, so every year I’m always younger than THEM, so how old I turn is never an issue. And it helps that I’ve never been older than 23 up until this point… But 24, now that’s different. 24 means I’m in my mid 20’s which is followed by my late 20’s, which is followed by 30.


When I was younger, I always pictured myself riding around in my hovercraft going to my meetings at the White House as the presidential Press Secretary and four best-selling novels under my belt. Living in my Jetson-esque house full of my robot servants and the revolving lovers, life looked good for 30 year old Gracie.

Heck yessssss

What is it that makes growing older so frightening? I don’t think it’s that I’m not living up to 12 year old Gracie’s expectations; I mean, come on, robot servants? It’s not as much letting down past me, but I’m more afraid of letting down future me. Knowing myself, which hopefully I do by now (and I’m a pretty crazy biatch), I think future me is totally down with current me’s amount of fun and lack of preparing for the future.  Well I hope. See I don’t know. That’s what’s scary. Maybe I should be hovercrafting around in DC and making book signing appearances in six years. And I still might be. Six years right now is a QUARTER of my life. In six more years it will still be 20%. That’s a huge chunk of time to get shit done.

So if turning 24 means I’m putting on the adult pants (Wait what? I have to start wearing pants? No one told me that), I say fine. I accept that challenge. But I’m taking it slow. This year I will now refer to my “tummy” as my “stomach.” That’s the only adult thing I’m signing up for in year 24. The pants stay off.

P-LENT-y to give up this year…

Being from the Church of Awesome, we don’t tend to participate in the Catholic practice of Lent. Last year for example, I just continued sinning and being selfish as though those 40 days and nights were no different than the rest of the year. The year before however, I gave up swearing. And that actually went over really fucking well.

I usually try to package Lent into a diet deal. Like, no sweets and bread. Well I’m not eating much of either these days, the only thing between me and Gisele’s fine ass body is my love for Miller Lite and Franzia and my entire lack of motivation to do anything other than Gracie’s New New Workout.

It's my hot body, I do what I want.

And yes, the thought of giving up cheese did cross my mind.

*Collective gasp*

But I bought a really expensive goat log roll cheese just last night and I still have some other artisan cheeses in the fridge that would all go bad in 40 days. So it’s just fiscally and worldly irresponsible. There are children in Denver that have never had anything more than processed American cheese and children in Boulder who’ve only ever had nondairy “cheese” and I just can’t live with knowing that I didn’t eat my expensive cheese when I had the opportunity while these children of Colorado are suffering. Besides, my birthday countdown is officially at 27 days (you all better be thinking about what you’re getting me this year. Hint: VIA Starbucks instant coffee) and I’m throwing that whiskey and cheese party I told you about and how super lame would it be to not eat cheese at my OWN whiskey and cheese party??  I also thought about just closing my eyes for a couple months and giving up sight. But that would make my twice-a-week commute to Cherry Creek pretty interesting, in a totally nonawesome, most likely deadly way.

So what do I do? Give up being awesome? Obviously not, that’s against my own religion. Take the Josh Hotness route and give up sexual pleasure? Please.

40 days and 40 nights without? No spank you.

I’ve decided: I’m going to give up feeding Devil Kitteh for Lent. It’s going to be tough. She’ll probably scream at me from time to time and try to scratch me and stuff. But I think it will teach her perseverance. You know? Survival of the fittest. Make your own damn dinner Devil Kitteh! No. Can’t do that either. Kassity will be so mad at me because eventually Kitteh will start taking it out on her too…

That's not my current phone number, so no, you can't stalk me.

Welp. I’m at a loss. Another Lent season will pass. I will keep being awesome, eating cheese, drinking beer and whiskey, cursing like a damn sailor, and feeding Devil Kitteh. Just the way y’all like me. You do like me, right? Right? You guys, right?

Victoria is keeping her secret this year

The big “V” day is coming up. The day that shall not be named for some. The best day of the year for others. It seems like there are just two different perspectives on the whole Valentine’s Day debacle.

Even Pandora radio understands that

After interviewing a bunch of independent subjects, in a formal case study (aka my friends on gchat), I found that it’s pretty simple.

The “Valentine’s Day Sucks” Crowd
-“It’s a scam. But at least you get some suga”
-“I’m not a big VDay person, I like it to eat candy and stuff, but I think it’s stupid to show you love someone for just one day.”
-“It could not be more pointless, I will show a girl I love her by treating her like shit on valentine’s day and treating her well the other 364”

The “others”
-“I really like it when I’m in a relationship”
-“I just like getting presents, I don’t care what the occasion is”
-“Any reason to eat chocolate is okay by me.”

Alls I know is, as a friend of mine once said, “I just love love.” It’s true, I love love, too. But I don’t need a hot air balloon ride (though it would be AWESOME), an $80 bouquet of sunflowers, or an expensive dinner date. However, homemade chocolates, a book of Kerouac poetry, or a home cooked purely veg meal by in incompetent cook and meat-eater? Hells yeah, I have to say I’ve had some creative guys in my life around February 14th. Hanging out and showing love to the person you like spending time with at that time your life, nothing is wrong there in my book. So I guess I’d categorize myself as an “other,” considering when I’m dating a guy, he will usually at the very least receive an SI Swimsuit edition and a smackaroo and if my bank account is healthy, perhaps a lil somethin’ somethin’ from Vikky S’s.

Yes, I am the coolest girlfriend ever.

This year however, I’m buying the magazine for Kassity for her birthday, NOT as a Valentine’s Day gift. And I’ll give it to her when we’re in the theater about to watch the bieber movie in 3D. And if she’s really lucky, maybe that little extra something too. Shhh don’t tell her. (And we wonder why people think we’re dating….)

So romantical...

Can you guys believe it’s already Lexus December To Remember Sales Event time again?

I love Christmas. I really do. I love that my friends come home. I love all the amazing food and drinks at parties. I love hanging out with my family.

However, I hate scrooges. And I hate Christmas haters.

Hey Atheists! Who cares if Jesus was born on August 21st. Or May 14th. Or April 17th. Shit, I could go on and on. Is it that bad to be all mushy and stuff one time a year and hang out with your family in front of a big tree and eat pie and drink cider? I mean talk about funkill. Bleh.

Hey overzealous Christians! Yeah I like Jesus and all, but don’t tell me (or the Atheists) that we can’t celebrate Christmas because we’re not living our lives according to the holy scripture. And that Santa takes away from the “true” meaning of Christmas. Fine, you know what? My kids aren’t even going to believe in Santa. They’re going to believe in a magical Unicorn that barfs the presents under the tree. This time of year will still represent family and togetherness to them… And they’ll also probably be the “special” kids in their class. Oy…

Hey people that say Christmas is just another holiday that Hallmark as taken over! Shut up. Drive around your neighborhood and look at pretty lights, drink some spiked egg nog and just.shut.up.

It’s absolutely miserable that anything around this time of year could get me this worked up. But you scrooges did it. And you know what? I still wish you a Merry Freaking Christmas too. HA!

Yes, this is what showed up when I typed in "Christmas Unicorn"

Top 10 worst Christmahaunkzwanzika gifts to give your girlfriend/wife

Guys, I’m trying to help you out this time. When you go shopping for your lady friend this holiday season, avoid these top 10 duds.

10. 15 flashlights individually wrapped up and tied with a bow (Who does that, dad?…)
9. Power tools (Unless your wife/gf is Kassity)
8. Every year a different, oversized goofy tshirt (Again, what were you thinking dad?)

7. Self help book (Tell her she’s fat and ugly while she unwraps it)
6. Portable car battery charger (Just plain weird)
5. Gym membership (Hey Fatty Fat Fatty!)
4. Official certificate that you’ve adopted a star in their name (So lame)
3. Edible underwear (It’s too sticky)
2. Vacuum cleaner  (I know you thought that would be number one, but…..)

1. Porn

What did I miss?

Bloody Harbringer of Doom

Considering it’s holiday season with Thanksgiving behind us and Christmas ahead and a lot of people are traveling to and from DIA around this time, I decided to pull out an old throwback post from the Really Grinds My Gears days….

You know what really grinds my gears?

The big, scary, weird-ass Blue Bronco that stands tall outside of DIA.

(This posting might not apply to you if you haven’t flown in/out of Denver in a while or in my case just taken someone/people who is/are flying in/out…//////) My pal Sam and I have made quite a few trips to the airport in the past couple of months and it always seems to be at night when we pass the scary horse-monster with red laser eyes ready to kill anyone who dares to approach DIA and always have the same exact reaction: Seriously, what the phuck?!?! I’ve started to put out a disclaimer to any out-of-town friends coming in saying,

‘Hey, when you leave the airport, can you do me a solid and not make any snap judgments about my entire state based on any freaky equine statues you happen to spot? That’d be rad, thanks.’

Because nothing says ‘Welcome to Colorado’ like the diabolical horse that gives grown men nightmares.

And upon further investigation, I discovered that this scary demon-horse apparently killed it’s creator. Yeah. The artist that was working on the anatomically correct (yup, HUGE BALLS) “piece of artwork” got crushed to death when it fell on top of him. Pure evil people, I tell ya. Someday it’s going to come alive and punish us all for any lapses of faith we’ve ever had in the Denver Broncos and smother us too with his testicles.