Did anyone watch the season premiere of The Real World St. Thomas last night? When I finished watching last season I decided that I was too old to watch anymore and wouldn’t be partaking in the next season, but when I started to see the previews I couldn’t resist, and so far it hasn’t disappointed.
I won’t ruin it for anyone who is hoping to catch a repeat, but I’ll just say I am rooting for Trey and Laura to get together and make babies. That’s the same thing I said about Dustin and Heather last season, and he ended up being a gay porn star..so it should be interesting.
Anyway, my apartment has started to turn into a Real World house of it’s own. I’ll spare you on all the gritty details, but a few weeks back I caught the hot roommate red-handed cheating on his girlfriend. I didn’t say anything, but the story has started to unfold. Saturday night all the roommates played beer pong and went to dinner and hot roommate was visibly upset because his girlfriend didn’t invite him to dinner with her family. And rumors are flying that he’s ’bout to get dumped. If you ask me he totes deserves it.
The real drama lies within the weird barbarian roommate though. Anth and I have daily bitch sessions about him and finally last night the hot roommate joined in.
The things we are complaining about aren’t your typical roommate annoying habits. Well, some of them are.
First off, this guy refuses to use the dishwasher at the off chance that he may put someone else’s plate in there/he doesn’t ever want to unload it. The thing of it is, unless you are hoarding your dirty dishes in your room – how do you know which ones are yours when you’re only hand washing them once a month? Here’s a clue bro: I’ve been doing them for you because the dishwasher gets ran every other day. Eat a dick. Anyway, I came home from work one day a few weeks ago and Anth was standing in the kitchen staring at a pile of dishes lying on a bath towel. I started cracking up because I knew exactly what he was thinking.
He went off about how he couldn’t belive someone would be so inconsiderate as to handwash the dishes and then lay them out to dry on a towel that he had just dried his junk with that morning. LOLZ. Oh Anth.
Then he was pissed because they were still sitting out the next day and moved them to the kitchen table where they remained for another week. At this point all I can do is laugh about it, getting pissed off at roommates takes way too much of my energy.
The other big complaint about this guy is how loud he has sex and the fact that it sounds like he’s beating the shit out of his girlfriend. None of us have gotten the guts yet to bring this up, because how do you say that? Do you ask the girlfriend? I mean honestly, it sounds like he beats her head against the wall. Last Sunday morning I was hungover laying on the couch watching a movie when they started at it. And it made me so uncomfortable that I went back down to my room and went back to sleep. Not only is it incredibly loud, they do it like 5 times a day. Here’s the schedule: wake up, have sex, make breakfast, have sex, watch tv, have sex, eat dinner, have sex, get ready for bed, have sex.
So last night, Anth was in my room doing his laundry and the hot roommate busts in with steam coming out of his nose. “Barbarian took my bike, WITHOUT ASKING, and I need to go to a volleyball game. Now I have to drive and pay to park.” So, Anth and I looked at each other and let loose with all our complaints. It ended up being quite the bonding session.
During all of this, me, Anth, and the Hot Roommate were all invited to a Yacht party for the 4th of July. The Barbarian, however, wasn’t invited and asked us all what we were doing. Considering the fact that Saturday when we all played beer pong he made the comment about how he loves looking into a dogs eyes when it takes a shit, he won’t be getting an invite any time soon.
I think we’re all in agreement that he gets voted off the island. Freaking weirdo.
Today is a good day. Let me tell you why.
First, it’s Friday. Friday’s are ALWAYS good.
Second, Ciggy Breath AND my boss are both out of the office today. A-ching-ching!
Third, I am going back to hometown for the second 3 day weekend in a row.
The downside is that I have to come back to hell on Tuesday.
I don’t have much planned for the long weekend, Betty and I are going to hit up her pool with some brewskis Saturday afternoon. And I’m going to hang out with High School Crush this weekend, in our hometown, probably high school style at one of our parent’s houses. 14 year old Gizzy is so envious of 27 year old Gizzy’s dating life right now!
Ok, real talk here, I need your help. How can I politely tell Anth to stop being an annoying mother fucker in the mornings? I realize that I live in an open room with no door and people have to walk past my area to leave our apartment. I know I’m going to get woken up. But, I feel like Anth doesn’t try to be quiet at all in the sense that he will run in and out of the house 10 times in the morning doing god knows what and slams the door when he leaves as hard as he can…. OR he leaves the door wide open for a solid 10 minutes. Which also keeps me up, because I’m lying there thinking, “Ok, is he coming back? Should I get up and close the door? What if a robber comes in and kills me?”
The second thing he does is he moves the dishes around banging them on the counter as hard as he can without breaking them. Don’t get me wrong here, he is not DOING the dishes, he’s just moving them from one spot on the counter to another. A while back when I told a mutual friend of ours that Anth is the loudest person I’ve ever met he said, “Yeah I think he’s the type of person where if he’s up he thinks everyone should be and if you’re not up he wants you to know he is and he’s there.” Perfectly said.
My next complaint is about the fucking barbarian I am now living with, the guy from Alaska. For whatever reason this guy creeps me out and just rubs me the wrong way. I don’t like him. Call me Judge Judy, but I am entitled to my closed minded opinion.
First off the guy does laundry every fucking day. I just don’t understand how one person produces so many dirty clothes. This annoys me because my room is in the laundry room so he’s constantly knocking on the wall outside of my room saying, “Gizzy? Can I jump in here and do some laundry?” Seriously, every fucking day. At some point, maybe when I’m drunk, I’m going to snap back and be like “What the hell is wrong with you bro? Do you poop in your pants or something?” I just don’t get it.
Second, Anth has met his match when it comes to being a disgusting slob. This guy is worse. Not only does he produce more dirty dishes than he does clothes, he refuses to unload a dishwasher full of dishes that are 95% from him. Instead, he fills up one side of the sink with water and piles his dishes in there, with food on them. So by the time the dishwasher finally gets unloaded (when I do it) the water smells like dead people and there’s chunks of food floating around in it. On that note, last night (after unloading the dishwasher) I found a dirty cutting board that had been conveniently placed BEHIND the toaster oven, with chunks of raw chicken still stuck to it. Yep. This is what I’m dealing with. I won’t even get into how gross the buttons on the oven and microwave are because he fries everything he eats.
So anyway, now you all know the reasoning behind why I am miserable in my big city life. I’m on the job hunt for a job near home town, but as I explained to lucky last night there just aren’t jobs out there. I spend my evenings racking my brain trying to think of companies to apply to and once I get to their website there are no open jobs in finance. Hrmph. My plan, once I get a new job, is to go back to school. Now I’m thinking that going back to school may be my only way out of the big shitty city.
But hey, Happy Memorial Day everyone…. Thank a soldier.
Let me start off with my standard, sorry I sucked last week apology. Big changes are coming my way and I can’t always put my feelings into words. Also, I’m lazy.
You may recall a post from a few weeks ago when I mentioned I was going to try and spice things up round here by moving back into the dungeon.
Well, the time has come. Next weekend is moving day and I’m quite excited. Not just because I’ll be saving $600 a month in rent and as the lone girl in the house I’ll have virtually no privacy, but because 2 new boys are moving it.
That’s right. Fresh meat. Literally. Gross.
Yesterday I had the pleasure of meeting one of the new roomies, we’ll call him “I’m hot Henry”. So there I was sitting in my bed sewing sequins on my Vegas clothes, when Anth is at my door asking if I want to meet the new roomie. I looked at myself in the mirror, realized I looked like asshole but didn’t care because what were the odds that I’d actually be attracted to the guy? Mistake #1.
He is HOT. Hence the name, I’m hot Henry.
So me, Anth, and IHH sat on the couch for a while and chatted. Anth has told me that IHH and the other new roomie both have girlfriends. However, in the 20 minutes I talked to the guy he did not mention her.
Don’t get me wrong here, I’m not going to shit where I sleep (is that the saying?). I’m just excited to have something nice to look at while I’m making dinner. Plus, I’ve got that whole High School Crush thing going.
And it’ll be extra fun having a hot roommate if Anth can take his head out of his girlfriend’s ass long enough for us to start having roomie night again. Something we would do when JM still lived with us.
Anyway, IHH left and I immediately went to facebook creep mode trying to figure out his deal. In the process I found the other new roomie, Hillbilly Hank. Hillbilly Hank comes to the big city from the backwoods of Alaska. I know we’ve tried to keep our locale on the DL up in here, but let me just say the big city is pretty much the complete opposite of Alaska. Honestly, Hillbilly Hank reminds me a lot of that hilljack cousin my aunt and uncle tried to set me up with last year. All his profile pictures are of him in camoflauge, holding a gun, and a dead animal.
I don’t know if you’ve gotten any kind of mental image of the type of guy Anth is all these years of me talking about him, but he is not like Hillbilly Hank. At all. Anth is the epitome of a frat guy. He wears polos, he gels his hair, he plays beer pong, he watches sports because he thinks it’s cool not because he likes them, and pre-girlfriend he would go to bars for one reason: ass. I’m hot Henry seems, from what I can gauge, to be exactly the same as Anth. I just would love to be around this fall when Hillbilly Hank goes hunting and hangs a dead animal in the garage to drain it’s blood. Shits going to be good!
Anyway, I just cannot wait to watch all the drama unfold when these two guys, who are said to be very neat and tidy find out what a trash bag Anth is. And when Anth starts with his bitching emails. You see, since Doogie has been MIA the past 6 months and it has just been Anth and I, there have been no emails. Anth and I have come to an understanding and it is that he can be as dirty as he wants and I’ll stay in my room. Guys, it’s just going to be so good, you don’t know what you’re in for.
In other news, Lucky and I leave for Vegas in T-minus 20 days! AHHHHHHHHH!
I should probably apologize for the no post Wednesday the other day. That’s my bad. I had a whole post written out and I just wasn’t happy about it. Honestly, I haven’t read it since Tuesday night and I can’t even remember what it’s about. I do remember outing John Mellencamp and Meg Ryan’s new relationship and boasting about how one of them is a family friend and how I was going to make US weekly give me $5000 and a trip to have me as their “source close to the couple,” but that’s really it. And that story is like day old bread now, everyone knows about it. So who I am I? A nobody. I’m not proud of being needy, but you know gosta do it, money talks.
Can everyone be happy for me for 1 second, because…. I HAVE BRAVO!!! I am soooooooooooo excited to lay in my bed and watch The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. All. Weekend. Long.
Anyway, you’re all aware that I move to the big city in t-minus 7 days. The freak out hasn’t officially begun yet, but I was discussing the new apartment lease I am about to sign with Anth and his roomies and he pretty much re-nigged because I have been slow on the guarantee train. I didn’t “guarantee” that I would be living in the tiny den without a door so they may have found someone else. HA! I mean, I’m pretty sure him aiding in drunkenly getting me denied from my dream building pretty much signs the deal in blood. But it’s whatevs, my new 2011 resolution is not to sweat the petty (but to pet the sweaty, BAHA.)(Honestly, I’m about over the resolution, it’s been a week, I figure I beat out half of all Americans.)
I really screwed myself when he sent me a bbm convo between him and his brother and I asked who “Guido Jr” (the other bbm name) was and he said his brother, and I said, whaaa? You have a brother? Then he really flipped his shit. Apparently, I don’t know him at all. I beg to differ, but whatever I forgot about a family member, big woop.
Then I asked if his brother was younger so that would make Anth, Guido Sr.. Then he was all, no grandpa is SR, dad is the original, and my brother is jr. I had to make it worse by correcting the family loom and being like, uhh hey genius’ that would make him Guido the THIRD. And he’s all STOP SAYING GUIDO, IT’S GIUDO, A NAME! Now, I’m definitely homeless. He’s not responding.
Side note: Ella just came in my room and told me she “went back to eating burritos,” she means doritos. HAHA.
If he wasn’t my only friend within driving distance I would totally shun him to man-whore island, but I can’t. Because I need him. I need to keep on good terms with a man just in case one of the following scenarios happen whilst living my new found glorious city life:
1. I’m walking downtown and my heel gets stuck in one of those sidewalk grates and breaks and I need someone to come and get me/buy me a new pair of shoes.
2. I am on a date and I need someone to be my “emergency call”/come pick me up because the guy was a winner and actually picked me up so if I just run out of the restaurant in a drunken panic I will be stuck, like gum on those tennies.
3. I have a date on a Friday night and the guy stands me up because he suddenly realized he is cooler than me, and figured out I would probably just get drunk on the date anyway because DUH genius! We did meet in a bar. I will need Anth to make me feel better/take me out for a night on the town to get sloppity drunk.
4. I get mugged and they steal my shoes but unlike Sex and The City, I don’t need to call the police because my shoes are not from Manolo Blanik, but from Bakers. Someone will need to bring me some ugly white pumps, and that someone’s name is Anth.
5. I need someone to be my back-up date to the company Christmas party next year. Pay back is a BIOTCH.
6. My heater breaks and it’s too hot in my place and I need someone to come over and turn the knob for me. You see this in movies all the time, the girls typically look like this:
While I, would look like this:
Only sweaty. Thus, I would need Anth to come fix the heater because I couldn’t have a guy from down the hall that I’m secretly crushing on come fix it while my hair is all afro and it’s laundry day and all I have is my red knit sweater (I’m trusting that was this girl’s case the day she had this photo shoot.)
7. I need a date to make a guy I like feel jealous, but WHA? We have to date in secret because he is my professor but he shows up to a party at my house with my arch nemesis, who happens to be Anth’s ex that dumped him because her brother is in jail and he was starting to figure it out. You could also call me Serena Vanderwoodsen.
You get the picture. I need someone to be my fall back in any situation that may arise. Since all of my other guy friends in the city are engaged, Anth has to be the one. I would do the same for him. Actually I wouldn’t, I would be his backup to the Christmas party, but that’s really it. I’m a bad friend, a bad friend who is willing to pay $500 a month to live in a hole without a door, damnit!
Anotha day, anotha dolla. Here we are, smack dab in the middle of engagement season, then in the spring comes wedding season. The real question is, when is divorce season?
Tuesday night I got a delightful little facebook chat from one of my old college flames. I say delightful because he totally screwed me over but college wouldn’t have been the same without him. We’ll call him Snatch.
I met Snatch at the beginning of my sophomore year, we had math class together and I thought he was H-O-T hot! Facebook had been around for 2 days, it was back when there was a section to list your classes and you could click on the class and see who was in it. So awesome (you hear that Mark Zuckerberg?!) Naturally, I facebook crept until I found out who math class guy was, discovered he was in a fraternity, and blabbed about this guy until my roommate finally found a connection for us to get into one of the frat’s parties that coming weekend. As soon as we got to the fraternity we told our insider what was up, he took me directly to where Snatch was working, he was on sober patrol working the door. Snatch recognized me from math class and asked for my number so he could call me when he got off, and he did. The rest is pretty much history, we dated off and on for the next 4 years, until I went on a spring break cruise to the Bahamas and randomly met Snatch’s girlfriend who went to a different school. It was one of those, “You go to SHIT U? My boyfriend goes to SHIT U and is a Booger Chi!” “OHHH MINE TOO!” “What’s your boyfriend’s name?” “Snatch Ass.” “Hmm…Mine too.” I didn’t hate Snatch for long though, we ended up becoming really good friends after I realized being a two timer was the least of his problems and I was better off without him, until he started dating his now fiance, who we also went to college with. She knows mine and Snatch’s history and has basically forbid him to speak to me. She nearly had a conniption last year when Snoop-Linus and I stayed at Snatch’s apartment, I mean did she really think we were going to just have a big Gizzy gang bang?
Anyway, Snatch facebook chatted me to see what was up. One thing led to another and we started reminiscing about the good ol’ college days, then Snatch starts talking about my boobs and how excited he is for me to move to the city, totes inappropriate.
Is it just me or are guys these days proposing just for funsies? Clearly he doesn’t love his fiance that much or else he wouldn’t be reminiscing about an old college flame’s boobs? When I stayed at his apartment with Snoop-Linus they were only dating, but he told me he would probably end up proposing because he was too chicken shit to break up with her because on St. Patty’s day she through a half gallon of vodka at him. I’d dump her for being a wasteful little cunty. Hrmph.. all that un-drank vodka, ruined on the floor.
The next day, my mom’s best friend gave me the name and number of her “so cute stepson” who lives in the city that I need to “hook up with so he can show me around,” before I could even act on this, the guy had already added me to facebook. What do I see when I look at his page? Married. W.T.F!!!!!
Is it just me or is it against some vows to be adding hot girls (clearly, that’s me, baha) to facebook so you can hang out later? My mom’s friend made it seem like he was single, which he clearly is not, and gets you a strike in my book.
What’s a single girl to do!? I need you guys to help snap me out of this funk.
I went to my friend’s tonight to see her new house and her baby before I move to the city. I could hear myself droning on about how everyone is engaged, married, or in a relationship and since I am single I can’t hang out with anyone who is married or in a relationship because I am the 3rd wheel, and that makes me more miserable then washing out PIMP’s. She just nodded, and told me she was pregnant and getting a mini-van.
I just don’t know what to do. I love married people as much as the next guy, but I am surrounded by them. And no offense to all you marrieds, but how is watching everyone else be married and spitting out kids every 2 seconds supposed to help me meet a guy?
For a while I thought this particular friend didn’t want to be friends anymore because I am single. She’s all settled down with her hubs, baby, and dogs, in her white picket fence house and only hangs out with other marrieds who have kids and all that biz can’t be tainted when the single wench comes to visit in her hooker boots and v-neck sweater dress, it’ll get the neighbors talking. I won’t lie, I’m nervous to move to the big city but I will be thankful to be around my own kind, the singles.
I’m pretty sure all my taken friends feel sorry for me, I got 3 different invites to be a “tag along” on New Years Eve. “Come to dinner with us!” “Come over and drink boxed wine!” “Come to this party! There will be cute guys!” Thanks, but no thanks, I’m not a 3rd wheel charity case and I’d rather gorge on chocolate and cry into my pillow, mmkay?
*Side note – A commercial just came on that DISH is getting rid of E! on January first. What the fuck!!?? My life is over. I don’t get bravo, I don’t get E!, seriously what the fuck?*
Anyway, my life sucks. What’s new?
After I gave myself the perfect manicure on NYE I decided to drive to the big city the next day to look at some apartments/attend another big city butts game with Anth Saturday night.
Don’t worry! It was just him and I, no fancy faux fur phonies to impress this time. #1 Anth wasn’t impressed that I brought the foam fingers along for the fun time and gave him a lecture about how he didn’t use his last time but that foam finger was willing to give him a 2nd chance because there’s nothing like cozying up by a warm fire with the one you love on a cold winter night. Then I got a return lecture about how I will be single for a long long time if I continue to act like inanimate objects have feelings and personalities. I mean, they do. So I don’t know what his problem is.
We got all geared up to head out in the -20 weather for the game and made a pit-stop at a gas station. I complained the entire 5 minute ride to the gas station about how I was so hungry I could feel my stomach eating itself. For reals, it was starting to cave in, I saw it happen. I just couldn’t wait for the delicious hot dogs and beer at the game, so I got some chili cheese fritos and peanut butter m&m’s to tide myself over. Anth’s pumping gas while I’m mowing down on the fritos (this is so detailed so that you can paint the perfect picture of what is about to happen in your head) Anth gets in the car and is taking a drink from his gatorade when I decided I had to have the m&m’s right that second!! NOM NOM NOM. I don’t hold anything back, I ripped into the bag of m&m’s and they went flying all over the car. It was literally raining peanut butter m&m’s. Like really, not 1 m&m was left in the bag. Anth just sat there in complete disarray of what had just happened and watched half of the bag of m&m’s fall in his air vent while I sat there wide eyed with my empty m&m bag. Honestly, I was more upset that there were about 30 less m&m’s for me to eat. Yeah, I picked every last one of them up and ate them. Call me gross, I don’t care. But those m&m’s were $3 and tough times call for tough measures. Anth got pissed and started spouting off about how he thinks I might actually be retarded because how could I do such a thing!? Of course when summer comes he’s going to get a nice chocolate drizzle on his penny loafers but I’ll be long gone when that happens.
The game was good, the big city butts got over 100 points again, so I was happy that I got a free big mac to go with my post game bottle of wine. All is right with the world, except that I’m still homeless and I start my new job in the big city in 16 days. Eff.
But hey, Happy 2011 errybody!