Tag Archives: college

13. What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?


I don’t know if there’s one thing that stands out above the rest. When I was in second grade I pissed my pants at school, which was really embarrassing, but who cares now? I also barfed at school when I was young, but once again, who cares?

I feel like I’ve done some embarrassing stuff during sex (attempting to show a guy the finished product in my mouth only to have it fall out all over myself)<—too much?? (Editors Note: OMG!)

I farted once in front of D, it was silent, but DEADLY and he was pretty grossed out, but he was a bastard so now I don’t care…


Psh. I have done A LOT of embarrassing stuff. I could write a 50,000 word book on all the embarrassing stuff I’ve done. But I’ll just tell you one story that I haven’t ever confessed to anyone, enough time has passed now that I can be like eh whatever. COLLEGE.

My first college boyfriend and I had just broken up but decided to “stay friends” and his frat was having an 80s themed party the following weekend.  My roommates and I got all decked out in our 80s garb, I was looking good which put me in the mood to drink.  I don’t know how many beer bongs I took, probably a hundred. But it ended up being one of the drunkest nights of my life. I caused a fist fight because I was so drunk that when I saw one of my good guy friends my legs went running to hug him but the top half of me stayed in place, causing me to fall backwards flat on my back and sling my full beer all over the crowd behind me.  I of course was oblivious to the fight that had started because everyone in the crowd were all blaming each other saying the others had thrown a beer on them. 

There were these stupid slutty freshman there that I hated (I was a sophomore), that would always come to the frat and flirt with my boyfriend (while we were still dating). Of course that night they hung out in his room all night and he didn’t care about me and practically ignored me the whole night. Which caused me to do even more beer bongs. At some point in the night (early) I either laid down or was placed on the BRAND NEW couch (the pledges worked hard to buy the couch) that was still in a party area but not the most crowded party area. I laid there while various people came to keep me company and talk to me throughout the night because I was too drunk to walk. At some point I barfed down the side of the couch. A guy that I was good friends with had come to clean it off the couch, because it was new and people were freaking out about it. Throughout the course of the night my skirt worked its way up around my stomach, so I was just laying on the couch in fishnets with my underoos hanging out for all to see. As the guy was cleaning the couch he tried pulling the skirt down so no one could see my goods, which made me think he was trying to rape me or some shit and got him slapped in the face. A few minutes later the rest of my body let loose and I shit my fishnets.  Uh yes, this is why you should not let your daughters go away to college. Thankfully everyone thought that was also puke and they cleaned it up while I laid in it.

Eventually my stupid exboyfriend came down to walk me home (it was around 4am). During our walk he put his face right next to the literal shit all over my skirt to smell it and said, “It looks like you sat in something, I can’t tell what it is.” I was all, “Hmm yeah I don’t know.” Then proceeded to make out with him with puke breath and invite him to my room to watch a movie, to which he declined. Being upset about my rejection, I went into my apartment where my roommates were all asleep, emptied out my shit filled underwear onto our bathroom rug (and left only the shit there), and took a shower.  

When my roommates and I all woke up in the morning we found the shit on the bathroom rug which got blamed on my roommate’s boyfriend’s dog who was staying with us for the weekend.  Another roommate also woke up to discover that her tv had been knocked off of her dresser and her room TPed.  I don’t remember doing either of those things, but I can only assume that I was the guilty party. Shame.

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The High School Crush Practice Date

As you’re all aware, I had a date on Wednesday night.  Normally I don’t do dates unless I really like the guy, why waste our time and his money if I know I’m not interested?  At this point, I’d like to ask all of you nay sayers to save it with the optimistic “How do you know you don’t like him until you go on a date and see?!” bullshit. I just know, okay? If I don’t get a tingle in my vajayjay upon our first meeting, then he’s in the friend zone….forever! But, since I have the almighty High School Crush date on Saturday, I figured I could use the practice making adult conversation, so I gladly accepted even though I already knew I wasn’t interested romantically.

All day Wednesday I bitched and moaned to Lucky about how I didn’t want to go.  I really wanted to sit in my jammies in bed that night and shop online for the perfect outfit to wear on the date with HSC Saturday.  Lucky kept telling me to suck it up and stop being a wiener, I had to go on this one to take the pressure off of Saturday, and it wouldn’t be that bad.  I wasn’t worried about the dinner itself, I was more worried about the goodbye at the end of the night.  Do I shake his hand? Give him a hug? A kiss on the cheek? If he buys me a bottle of Dom does that mean I’m obligated to give him a bj? This is more thinking than I like to do after I leave the office, clearly.  So I tried to get myself out of the end of the night awkwardness all together.

The guy was supposed to pick me up at 7pm and around 4 he texted me asking for my address.  So I did what I do best, I made up an excuse so we could just meet at the restaurant.  “Er, well, I’m going to have to stay late at work.  So, is it cool if I just meet you at the restaurant? I don’t think I’ll have time to make it home beforehand.”  Usually when I do this the guy will comply, but this time I was not so lucky.  He said we could just go later so that I could go home first and decompress from work.  Ugh! Fail.  I told him we could still go at 7 because I am so prepared that I brought of change of clothes to work, and he said I could just drive to his place and we could walk to the restaurant.  It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than him walking me to my door at the end of the night and coming in for the goodnight kiss and me barfing on his face.

When I started getting ready for the date I wanted to look good, but not too good, because I didn’t want to give him the wrong signals.  So, I wore the diamond ring that HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON got me last year for Christmas.  Yep, you read right.  I did that.  I also ate a clove of garlic.  I know, I’m horrible.  With any date, you hope there won’t be a lull in the conversation, because how awkward is that when it’s apparent that you’re both sitting there racking your brain trying to think of things to talk about?  I can say, that did not happen on this date.  This guy was FULL of conversation topics, such as but not limited to:

If I looked on your DVR right now what would I find?

What would you do if you won the lottery tomorrow?

What is the last meal you cooked?

If you were stranded on a desert island or mountain what do you think your high heels could double as?

Yeah, so asking these questions out of thin air was super lame, but they served their purpose and got the conversation going.  Even though each time he asked one of these questions it wasn’t because there was a gap in the conversation, it was because my mouth was full of food and I didn’t want to spit vodka cream sauce and noodles on his face, and he apparently took that as I was done talking about the previous topic.  Whatevs.  What I can tell you, is that this weekend I will NOT be asking HSC what’s on his DVR or what he thinks he could do with my high heels on a mountain.  Hrmph.

So, the guy paid for dinner, which was nice, but he kind of bashed me for not wanting to order a desert.  He said I was the only girl he had ever met that didn’t have a sweet tooth and he didn’t know how he felt about it.  “Well,” I told him, “The thing is, I DO have a sweet tooth, but I just had 3 glasses of sangria, a huge dish of pasta, half a loaf of bread, and half an appetizer.  So like, I’m probably going to go home and ralph all this up because I can’t breathe right now.”  He walked me to my car and said we would have to do this again sometime.  He didn’t even try to hug me or anything, so I took that as either A.) He was thinking about me ralphing B.) My subtle “I have a fake boyfriend” clues with the ring and the garlic clove worked or C.) He really did just want to catch up as friends and I’m a narcissistic freak.  Either way, it’s over and now I can focus on tomorrow.  Game on!

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Desperation is the sincerest form of flattery

Remember a few months ago how I was complaining that the big city sucked so much ass and I wanted to move home?  Well it still does, but not for the same reasons.  I’m slowly but surely making more friends and meeting new people that help occupy my weekends so I don’t feel like a loser – so now I just hate the big city because it’s expensive and there is a lot of traffic.  And still no man for me to make out with.

Which brings me to my next subject.

Friday was Anth’s birthday.  He had decided to have all of his closest friends come to a little restaurant/bar for dinner and drinks to help him celebrate.  Not only did I not want to eat greasy restaurant food, I didn’t want to pay the greasy restaurant price.  So I stopped at the grocery on the way home to get myself some single serving bottles of wine (I know, and I think I’m looking less like a loser) and some sushi. 

As I walked into the grocery store a guy in a big puffy blue coat caught my attention.  I looked over and saw a glimpse of his face as he turned away from me.  My heart jumped up into my throat and I stopped in my tracks while I contorted my body to try and get a better look at his face.  – I was almost certain it was Lucky’s ex.

As I rounded the corner I rubbernecked waiting for him to turn so that I could get a better look.  When I finally saw his face I texted Lucky, “OMG OMG OMG… I think I just saw your ex at the grocery.”

Lucky told me to go back and kill him.  Which I should have.  This is a day I have been waiting like 6 years for.  Remember in the Sex and The City movie when Charlotte is all like, “If I ever see Big I’m going to say ‘I curse the day you were born!’” And then she sees him and says it?  That’s kind of how this was – except my plan was to punch him in the face.  Since I wasn’t 100% sure it was him I carried on with my shopping thinking it couldn’t have been, because what would he have been doing at the grocery wifeless at 5pm on a Friday night?  That is, until Lucky confirmed it was him Sunday night after one of his friends told her that he said he saw me.  Now I’m on the prowl, brass knuckles in tow. 

Anyway, I got my sushi and my wine, went home and hoovered it, then met the rest of the crew out for Anth’s birthday.  To my surprise there were some people there I didn’t know – and some other’s I would’ve never expected to see.  Like, HOTTIE’s best friend and roommate.  Fortunately we stayed on neutral subjects and avoided any talk about HOTTIE, so who knows what he is up to, he could be married and Jewish now for all I know.

After a while I noticed a hot quiet guy in the corner being mauled by our friend that talks non-stop.  I was just drunk enough, so when I saw her leave for the bathroom I made my move.  I had to be quick, since I knew the non-stop talker would be back in less than 5 minutes.  It was like speed dating for drunks and every half hour or so when she would go to the bathroom or the bar I got to run back over there for a quick chatty.  We were about to exchange numbers when Anth threw up and everyone put me in charge of taking him home.  Awesome. 

As I’m gathering my things and closing out the tab, the hot guy comes up to me and says infront of everyone, “Aww no more battle for Brian?  I was just about to make my decision who the winner is that gets to take me home!” Ummm… shame.   I didn’t say anything, but everyone burst out laughing, moments before this guy arrived I had told everyone that tonight was going to be the night – I was going to find someone to make out with if it killed me!  So yeah, that’s pretty humiliating – I just left and bought myself a cheeseburger on the way home. 

Saturday I went to visit a friend in a city close by hometown where a lot of people from mine and Lucky’s high school now live.  I was excited to go out and be able to drink for the entire night for under $30 and catch up with my friend.  As soon as we walked in the first bar I saw 2 guys from high school that Lucky and I had just been talking about earlier that day.  One of them had just gotten engaged and the other was recently married, so we had been voicing our opinions on that.  I avoided them until the end of the night when they finally found me and were all….”Gizzy! How are you? What are you doing here? Are you married?”

Literally, first 10 seconds of seeing me, are you married, really?  Before I elaborate on this crap, let me back track a few days to a phone call I got from my ex-roommate (Mom) where she told me that she had dinner at one of my high school guy friends parent’s house and the guy was there and asked about me.  She said he asked about my job and how I liked living in the big city, then he asked if I was married and my mom told him no.  My mom proceeded to tell me that the guy was just in complete and utter shock that I wasn’t married.  To which I said to my mom, ok… why is it so shocking? I’m 26, not 45.  And my mom was like, “Well you’re just so pretty and such a good catch.” And I said “Exactly, so I’m holding out for a guy who is really hot and also a good catch.” – So everyone needs to LAY OFF!

Of course, last week after my co-worker made me feel like my existence is meaningless because I’m single, this conversation with my mom, and now these two guys from high school questioning my singleness, I was a tad bit annoyed with how my being single is some kind of world shattering news. 

Anyway, I told the guys no I’m not married, I’m single, no boyfriend, no prospects, no sex, no making out, I’m basically a nun.  They then started to exchange stories of how one of them tried to date me once, but I wasn’t having it and how I’m too good for everyone and how they both would’ve married me.  I let it go on for a few minutes until I finally said – ok guys, you’re both married, and I’m right here… so let’s stop this.

Then they asked about Lucky and her job and were commenting on how she’s a big deal.  I told them that she’s famous and better than everyone, one of them used to have a thing with Lucky and I told him he missed out (right in front of his wife, zing!).  Then they asked if she was married.  NO, NO she’s not.  She’s just a big single wench like me.  God.

When the night finally came to a close I got in line at a sub-shop for some drunk food.  As I was walking out the door shoving sandwich in my face I saw two more guys from high school, High School Crush’s best friends to be exact.  I wasn’t all that surprised because they both live in the area.  We started chatting and then they informed me that HSC was in town and was right next door at a different restaurant and that I should go over there.  I thought about it, I really did, but then I thought do I want to be the girl that shows up at 3:30 in the morning “To say hi”?  Not that anything would’ve happened, but I was drunk and wasn’t mentally prepared for it, I also didn’t have on my perfect outfit and my make up was pretty much melted off my face.  You know what they say, nothing good ever happens after 2am, or is it 11?  Either way, the time had passed and I opted out and just told the friends to tell him hi for me. 

 And, end weekend.

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Raz-Ma-Taz Weekend Part 2

As we concluded last time, I was with some of my friends in a different state, drunk, and we were being summoned by the police… (My life kind of really is like an episode of cops.  Such shame.)

We approach the po-po and he immediately goes after the angry girl, accusing her of being loud and dramatic for no reason.  He didn’t even see what happened with the whole rickshaw thing, but he was right.  He told her to remove herself from the situation or he would arrest her.  And off she went. 

When we finally got a cab back to our Motel (it was as close to staying in a motel 6 as I ever want to get) and we all passed out because we had to be up in about, oh 4 hours, to start drinking again.  Being in your 20’s is so rough.

When the morning came we were all dragging ass, but we made it to a bar and had our first beer in hand by 10am.  At 11:30 I decided it was close enough to the afternoon for shots and off we went.  The rest of the day was kind of a blurr, I remember eating a lot of fried cheese – which is disgusting, but we just kept ordering it. 

At some point we made it to someone’s friend’s house where a bunch of PHd students were posted up.  We came in, all drunk, with 2 cases of bud light and a package of meat hooting and hollering like a bunch of cavemen.  It was gross.   The rest of the time being at that house is kind of a blurr too, the next thing I know we’re all standing in the front yard mooning the people across the street and telling them they had AIDS.  I know, I know.

Eventually we made it to another bar, where we drank dark beer and ate more fried cheese, played pool, and danced to Hanson.  And we were the only ones acting this way.  It was like a chill adult bar and I can’t believe we didn’t get kicked out.  Here I am having a gay old time not giving a shit because the only people I know in this state are my friends. 
THEN, these two girls approach us just about the time I’m getting ready to show everyone how good I am at freestyling…. “Gizzy???” Oh. Shit.

It was two of my sorority sisters, one of them lived in a nearby city and the other was visiting her for the weekend.  They were at this bar, with their husbands, not being waste faces, and there I was being the single Gizzy they all knew and hated (for getting our house put on probation for hiring male strippers and buying a keg for my senior night) stuffing my face with fried goods and spilling drinks on myself – just like in college.  Nothing has changed.

In college they were the type of girls that would drink but would never get too drunk.  They were never out of control, never made fools of themselves, always had boyfriends because they were classy and collected.  The non-alcoholics if you will.  And I was the opposite.

Anyway, I bought us a shot to celebrate one of the girl’s birthdays and they were quick to rush me away after that when their husbands approached.  Clearly they know the repercussions of me being drunk better than anyone.  But you know what, who cares, like I told every bartender that weekend – “I’m on vacation so make it a double.”

After that everyone rushed up to me being all, “Omg Gizzy, did you know those girls? How awful.  We are all shitfaced.” Yep, I know.  Give me some cheese. 

At 10:30pm and a mere 8 pitchers of dark 9% alcohol beer later none of us could stand and we had been cut off by our waitress.  And there we were, back outside, playing the waiting game for a cab.  We made it back and no sooner than I could get the key in the door my motel-mate for the weekend pushed passed me and went straight to vom in the toilet…. And she kept going, and going, and going… for the next 4 hours. 

The next day we drove home, all hungover and wanting to die, I found a random half pound hot pocket in my bag that night and the rest is history.  All in all it was a great trip and I’m really happy I went.  So I’ll just leave it at that.

On next week’s episode of Gizzy is forever doomed to be single because she can’t get it together:

Gizzy takes a trip to another city to see old college friends/drink her face off.

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Raz-Ma-Taz Weekend Part 1

Before I go into details on my raz-ma-taz weekend away, I need to tell you all a story of something that happened to me on Friday…

 I was sitting in my cube at work minding my own business when the crazy old Asian man came up and striked up a conversation with me, he asked how I am and if I had a lot of work, which the answer is always yes.  He said he does too but he wanted to socialize instead of work.  Well, don’t we all. 

Then he asked if I had any big plans for the weekend, I didn’t want to go into detail about my trip and carry the convo on even longer, so I just said no that I’d probably just be hanging out at home.  Then he asked what I did the night before and makes the assumption that I had a pajama party with my roommates (I have yet to tell him that I live with 2 frat guys) I laughed and said no I just watched tv like I do every night.  He said, “Ohh every night? Until your boyfriend calls up and says lets go do something, right?” I replied, “No no, that doesn’t happen, I don’t have a boyfriend.” He gasped, “YOU DON’T HAVE A BOYFRIEND?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I rolled my eyes, “Nope.” And he said, “No boyfriend, well what are you doing with your life?”

 Like, really? Just because I am still single my whole life is a waste? I wasn’t aware that a single girl in her twenties was such a disgrace to mankind. 

THEN he said, “Is it because of your religion or something?” Like yes, a suburban white girl from America is a part of a religion that doesn’t allow her to date until her parents will her away to a spouse of their choosing.  Come. On. 

 After he offended me and basically told me to go kill myself because I have no reason for being in existence unless I’m in a relationship, he spilled coffee all over my papers.  Just seriously, get the fuck out of my cube.  Christ.

Anyway, the weekend away for the football game was a freaking BLAST.  I really needed it, and although I was hesitant to go I’m so happy that I did.  I haven’t laughed that hard in YEARS.  My stomach muscles are sore just from laughing.  Anyway, here’s what went down…

We had all planned to meet at Anth’s office in the suburbs around 5:45-6 o’clock to head out.  I work the furthest away from Anth’s office and needed to leave by 4 to get there by 6.  Well, because of a meeting I took with a hot doctor (a story for another day) I didn’t get to leave work until 4:45… awesome.  My plan was to drop my car off at my apartment and take the subway to his office – by the time I got home it was already 5:45, then I spent another half hour looking for a cab to take my to the subway.  No dice.  

At 6:15 I texted Anth to just leave without me because I didn’t want to make everyone wait.  He was all, we’re not leaving without you, just get here.  So at 7:15 I pull up, we got some dinner and off we went for a 2 hour drive.

We got to our hotel about 10:15.  And let me tell you, this place was a GEM.  One of the girls found blood on her sheets and the beds were all like mini-sized.  Which I wasn’t expecting.  Typically all hotel beds look pretty much the same no matter what hotel you’re staying at.  But these beds were clearly made for midgets and they got a deal on them. The crappy hotel definitely added to the experience though since we were all drunk and afraid to go to sleep.

We ended up going out to an “undergrad bar” and found no attractive people (that means no 21 year old college boys for me to make out with).  Although, Anth did get his butt grabbed twice by passer bys.  

We all got the perfect amount of drunk and closed down the bar.  As I’ve mentioned before, I live in one of the larger US  cities where it’s not necessary to call for a cab.  You just wave your hand and 50 of them appear (except on Friday night).  None of us really took that into account so we were waiting for a good 45 minutes after the bars closed for a cab to come get us.

While we’re waiting we see a rickshaw pass by with a couple in it.  You don’t see a lot of those in the big city (they should probably have them though) and we were all pointing and giggling like, OMG lets find a rickshaw to take back to our hotel. 

Apparently the angry black girl riding on the rickshaw thought we were making fun of her for riding in it and started yelling and hanging out of it being all, “BITCH! It’s cheap. This is what you gotta do in this economy.” And we were just like whatevs and carried on with our conversation. 

The next thing I know the rickshaw driver pulled over and they sat there for a minute.  Then the angry girl got out and walked over and got up in our faces. 

I’m still not entriely sure what she was saying, I just know spit was flying and fingers were being pointed and she kept calling the guys bitches and then she told us all that we were the 1%.   Which pissed us all off.  That whole we are the 99% occupy wallstreet thing irritates the piss out of me to begin with because it’s another thing that people are wasting their time on that nothing will ever come from.  Anyway, we all just told her to get back on rickshaw and leave us alone and that she was cray cray…

  THEN, the coppers showed up… *boop*boop* they jumped out of the car and said, “We’re going to need you all to come with us…”

…To be continued…

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Life Decisions

Wednesday night Lucky and I had a VERY long talk (4 hours to be exact, on the phone) about how far we’ve come with not only ourselves, but our outlook on dating and our lives.  We rehashed our good times from high school, like driving by our crush’s houses on a Friday night listening to Justin Timberlake’s Cry Me a River. We even tossed around the idea of attending our 10 year high school reunion coming up in a few years (pending if we feel good about where we’re at and if we can get a solid guest list beforehand).  

This may not be the case for everyone, but especially around the Holidays I find myself looking back at situations I’ve faced (especially those from high school when I had a clear head) where if I had made 1 different decision my life would be completely different.

For example:

My last high school boyfriend – we’ll call him Daniel.  Daniel was/is the type of guy that I would probably like to date now (minus the crazy).  But, when I was 17 and just starting to figure out who I was (still not totally there yet!) I didn’t want some hopeless romantic guy who was obsessed with me and treated me like a queen to hold me back from life experiences.  Looking back I don’t know if he was as obsessed with me as he was possessive, but I’ll roll with it.  

He was a year older and had 1 serious girlfriend all through high school,  and all the girls thought he was cute and so nice and blah blah blah. So, when him and the serious gf broke up I snatched him up, and 6 months later he left for college  and we stayed together while I was left to face my senior year with the temptation of a newly single High School Crush.

 Anyway, Daniel was a planner.  He had this big plan that he was going to go to this all boys college that was half an hour from SHIT U, and we could drive back and forth to see each other, and then my sophomore year of college/his junior year, we would get married.   Now the thought of this makes me want to vomit.  He actually set up appointments to go look at rings while we were still in high school.  I always found a reason to cancel (because I didn’t want the ring, because I was embarrassed, with good reason) and it makes me ill thinking that I was like pretty much engaged to this guy.

I was kind of all for it at first.  I watched a lot of Rom Com’s and wanted the happily ever after that he wanted to give me.  But then, I got in a bad car accident in the fall of my senior year and it made me sane again.  Thank god.  I may have totaled my first car in the accident, but I feel like that accident saved me from a miserable life with him.  After the accident I couldn’t stand to have the guy touch me.  I hated the sound of his voice and it made me feel physically ill to be around him.  We stayed together for about 2 months after that and then I pulled the classic, “We need a break.”  To which he pretty much went psycho, and threatened to kill himself.  

I remember him showing up at my house one night while I was getting into my car when no one was home, and he wouldn’t let me pull out of my driveway, so I drove through the grass called a guy friend on my cell phone to tell him what was going on and that I was coming over, and basically had crazy psycho Daniel following me the whole way there.  

He even followed Lucky and I to Florida on the infamous senior spring break trip.  We’re talking like an 18 hour drive, that he did alone, not on his spring break, and didn’t pack anything.  Creepy.

At some point after the breakup I finally hashed it out with Daniel over the phone while he was back at college and I was safe at home.  I don’t remember exactly what was said, but I just know it was really bad because TO THIS DAY his friends STILL apologize to me for what he said.  We’re talking 10 years later.

Anyway, the point to all of this is, about a month after Daniel followed me to Florida he started dating this girl, Emily, that we also went to high school with.  You know how everyone kind of has 2 best friends?  Like Lucky has me and Buttons, I have Lucky and now Betty I guess, there used to be another best friend of mine.  I still consider her one of my best friends but we hardly ever talk. She’s married and has 2 kids and pretty much thinks I’m a hot mess whore.  Anyway, her two best friends are me and Emily, and Emily and Daniel began dating right after we broke up.  And now they are married, with 2 kids.  

So after knowing all of that, imagine how much fun best friend #2’s wedding was that Emily and I were both Bridesmaids in?  And Best Friend #2’s kids birthday parties and pretty much any other important events that go down. It’s like 100% the elephant in the room.  The funny part is, Emily and I have no problem with each other, we’re friends and we get along.  But Daniel and I have not said a word to each other since the breakup 10 years ago.  

ANYWAY, my point is… if I had stuck it out and stayed with Daniel, I could be Emily.  I could be married, living in hometown, as a housewife, with 2 kids.  And the thought of that PAINS me.  I know having a husband is all Lucky and I talk about, but I think if I was married to him the one thing I would wish for was #1 to have my life back and #2 to be single on a deserted island.  This poor girl, if she ever leaves him she’s pretty much as good as dead.  Cray cray.  

The thought of all of this just scares me.  I realize that everything happens for a reason and I made the decision to break up with him because we weren’t meant to be with each other.  But I often think about other decisions I’ve made, like what college to go to, and what city to accept a job in, and other decisions that may have paved a path for me that is steering me away from the person I’m supposed to be with.   But in light of the fact that I am perfect and ALWAYS make the right decisions, we’ll say whoever this dream guy of mine is that I’m supposed to be with, is clearly the one making the wrong decisions that are leading him away from me.  I don’t need THAT weighing on me every time I’m deciding to go right or left.



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I’ll take breathe right strips for $1,000, Alex.

So the other night it’s bedtime and I’m laying in bed on my computer catching up on some of my favorite blogs, when I hear something that sounds like snoring.  This was all too familiar because of that whole mouse in my room mulling in plastic bags situation.  I sat there without moving and listened to see if I could determine whether it was really snoring or just something super annoying outside.

I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, I mean it literally sounded like it was coming from inside my room (annnd just as I typed this I remembered Anth telling me they came home from a bar Saturday night and the front door was standing wide open, makes sense, there’s probably a hobo/ax murderer sleeping in my closet).  I crept over to the door to see if it sounded like it was coming from Anth’s room and I couldn’t hear it anymore, yet when I get back in bed, there it was! 

I laid there for a while wondering if the snake had gotten out and was hiding under my covers somewhere ready to attack, but snakes don’t snore? Did we get a dog that no one told me about?

Then I started thinking that it was my neighbor who shares a wall with me.  The past few months I’ve been able to hear everything through the wall.  It was like they hadn’t been living in that room and then all of a sudden the whole freaking family sleeps, eats, and poops in this room that shares a wall with my bedroom.

I hear the tv on until the wee hours of the night, I hear when they leave early in the morning and forget to shut their alarm off and it goes off for 2 hours, and I also hear their baby up at 5am making stupid baby noises.  

I would be lying if I said I didn’t take rocks out of this vase in my room:

And throw them out of this door in my room:



so that they hit my neighbors window when that baby is being loud.  Not that the baby can pick up on subtle cues that she’s keeping the neighbors up with her noises, but I’m figuring the parents will think the room is haunted or something and move her out of it and make it a guest room so I can finally sleep in peace.  I’m still waiting, but it will happen.

Speaking of snoring, Anth, some friends, and I are going on a weekend getaway the first weekend of November.  We just booked it and I kind of am already regretting it/thinking of ways to get out of it.  Our college football team is playing at a University in the state above ours and I don’t know, for some reason everyone thought it would be a good idea to go.

We pondered on renting an RV and parking it at a Walmart overnight (that… is the most white trash sentence I have ever written) and then someone was like, so whose going to drive the hotel to the Walmart shitfaced?  Good point, so Anth booked us 4 hotel rooms 8 miles from the bar scene and we’ll be cabbing it.

I had a few conditions that needed to be met before I would agree to partake in this weekend o fun:

1. At no point during the trip from the time we leave the apartment to the time we arrive back in our city can Anth or anyone else insult me in a way that will make me wander off alone to get attention.  See: Missing girls.

2.  I need my own bed.

3.  Whoever shares a room with me cannot poop while I am in the room.  I’m sorry, I know it’s a natural thing, but I have a weak stomach.

Anth said it was fine and he would just share a room with me.  I said ok… then that mystery snoring happened and I remembered from a New Years Eve where I slept in the same room as Anth that he snores like a freight train.  So, now I need to cancel.  Because as much fun as that weekend will probably be.  I really like my sleep on the weekends.  Sleep > drinking on a lawn in the cold. 

And on that note… I hope everyone has a good weekend.  One of my ex-boyfriends who Anth and all my big city friends are good friends with is getting married this weekend, I wasn’t invited, so Betty is coming up to binge eat with me for a few days.  Ta ta now.

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Attack of DishZilla

Happy Monday Everyone! Mark this day, that’s the only time you’ll ever hear me say those awful words. I cannot express how happy I am that last week is over, not only was work stressful (and it will be for about the next 3 weeks, I’ll be forcing myself not to suddenly come down with mono), but I also had to prepare for my parent’s visit over the weekend.  Which only entailed cleaning the house and buying my dad a birthday present, easier said than done when you live with 2 frat guys.  No big deal, right?

I waited to clean until it was around bedtime on Thursday night.  I figured that way, everyone would get up in the morning, run off to work, and not leave much of a mess for me to clean up.  When I came downstairs Friday morning everyone was already gone, but I could smell that someone had cooked a sausage and egg biscuit  (Anth, so predictable) and sure enough there were dishes in the sink with egg remnants all over them.

Like watching me run around the night before stressed out making sure the dishes that had been sitting in the sink for a week that were actually Doogie’s responsibility:

were all in the dishwasher so the house looked like a semi-clean frat house wasn’t enough of an incentive to be like, “Oh hmm… MAYBE Gizzy did all those dishes, cleaned our disgusting pube-infested bathroom, swept and mopped all the floors, washed the sticky beer residue off all of the surfaces in the place, AND made sure the couch pillows hid the spots on the couch where the leather came off because she wants it to appear to be clean and not look like we’re poor hobos, and maybe I could take 5 minutes out of my morning facebook whore creeping session to unload the dishwasher and put these dishes in there so she doesn’t have to worry about it since it’s my mess. But no, I won’t because I’m an inconsiderate ass.” So, he put it in the sink and didn’t even rinse it.  

I swear to you, a switch is going to flip and they are going to come home one day to broken dishes all over the floor because I can’t take it anymore, and they can all eat off toilet paper  and magazine scraps for all I care.  Housewives are so underpaid.  

But anyway, you can see in the right hand corner of the photo a list hanging on the dishwasher.  That’s a list of whose turn it is to unload it, when it’s unloaded we cross our name off and write weather the dishes are dirty or clean.  My name is crossed off about 6 times, Anth’s once, and Doogie’s bringing up the tail with a whopping ZERO.  I was skeptical of the list to begin with because of course no one would enforce it, it’s just there to blatantly point out who does the dishes and who doesn’t, which we all knew anyway.

But, Anth made the list because Doogie is notorious for inviting his girlfriend over to make these huge feasts for the two of them and the dishwasher is conveniently almost always full, and she can usually fit about 1 fork in there, then runs it. And, like a whore, leaves the rest of the dishes in the sink, and her and Doogie disappear for the next 5 days so that Anth or myself (ME, it’s always me) has to clean their mess up after it has sat there so long that it starts to come to life.  But, I believe now Anth is seeing how little he does the dishes and how I pretty much do everything that keeps our apartment from being roach and rat infested.   That’s a lie, he hasn’t noticed at all.  If anyone has noticed it’s me, realizing how much I actually clean up after these stupid slobs.

So anyway, back to the story… I came downstairs found dishes in the sink, cussed him under my breath, decided I wasn’t fucking unloading the dishwasher again, and I wasn’t about to leave dishes in the sink after I busted my ass the night before to get them all done.  After frantically looking around for a place to hide the dirty dishes I decided on the oven.  I threw the dishes in there and ran off to work.  When I got home from work, a mere 3 minutes before my parent’s showed up, Anth was already home and had locked himself in his room to “work”.  On my way home I had sent him a text telling him that he better not have trashed the place after all my hard work cleaning it, of course he didn’t reply, which told me there were more dishes in the sink.

And when I got home?  

MORE FUCKING DISHES! I wanted to run upstairs, karate kick his door open and ask where he thought his dishes from this morning magically disappeared to, since the dishwasher was still full and why did that provoke him to leave more in the sink!? BASTARD!!  But I refrained, and shoved the rest of the dishes in the oven, did a walk through to make sure there wasn’t anything else I had missed, and relaxed for 5 seconds before the doorbell rang.

Although they noted that the place needed a paint job, a carpet cleaning, and the hard wood floors needed to be treated, the apartment got my parent’s seal of approval and we left.  SHEW!

About 9:30 Friday night I got the following series of texts from Anth:

“Gizzy, WTF!!!!!!”

“Dishes in the oven, really?”

“I just cooked the shit out of them.”

At 3:15 am I decided to reply…

“Yeah, and you can take those dishes and SHOVE THEM UP YOUR BUTT!!!”

Thank you Stanley from the office for that magnificent one liner, you are a good man.

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You can take that fine and shove it up your…

Hallelujah it’s Friday!!!  I could not be happier.  When I was in college not studying my life away, partying on Monday’s and Wednesday’s and whenever I felt like it, laying out by the pool on a Tuesday, and watching Full House reruns every day I always thought I would be happier when I got a full time job and I was bringing in the bucks.  But I’m not.  People are right, the real world sucks.  Work sucks.  And my life is slipping through my fingers, the weeks all blend together and the weekend is all I live for.  So everyone, how about some anti-depressants?

And on that note, I am returning to Shit U this weekend to find me a hot young hunk to make out with.  I say this every time I go and it never happens, so I’m not going to jinx it and get all analytical and scheme up a way to make out with a 21 year old.  This is the first weekend back for the students, so I think that’s all I need to say.  I won’t be the only one looking to make some bad decisions.

I’m really going back because Gigi, Chuck, Acts Gay but Says He’s Straight Friend Adam, Bri, Gigi’s boyfriend, Gigi and Chuck’s old roommate Netti and I have decided that every year we will have a reunion the first weekend of school, because we need a valid reason for partying with college students.  It should be a good time; drama will definitely ensue between Gigi, Chuck, and Bri who aren’t all on the best of terms and I’ll get drunk and use Acts Gay but Says He’s Straight Friend Adam as my wingman. 

Annnd turning the page… who’s wondering about my coffee date?  No one?  Well it didn’t happen.  All thanks to my shit hole apartment.  I get up 30-40 minutes early so I could leave early to go meet Alex for coffee.  I left and tried to shut the garage door and it wouldn’t shut.  It would start to shut for like 2 seconds, and then it would bounce back up like something was in front of the sensor.  I cleared all the cob webs out of the way and it was still doing it.  Like would not go down for the life of me.  I thought I was going to have to call into work because I couldn’t very well leave out house wide open for hobos and criminals to invade.  I tried figuring out a way to unhook the sensor, almost electrocuted myself, and after 20 minutes of messing with it finally decided to call Anth because I was about to cry.  He says it’s the sun and it does it every morning if you leave at that time.  Are you freaking kidding me?  The sun is keeping our garage door from closing? I went inside and watched half an episode of The Wonder Years, emailed Alex to tell him I wasn’t going to be able to make it, and came back out and it worked.  But really, I never had weird things like this: my apartment catching on fire, rabid mice running around, and THE SUN KEEPING ME FROM GOING TO WORK – until I moved to this city.

So I finally get to work and I get this email from Anth that he got from our landlord:

The association is complaining about:

  1.  Cigarette Butts scattered around the property by guests
  2. The fire escape is for emergencies only not for entering and exiting units
  3. The associate requires the names and numbers of any tenants living in your property
  4. There have been numerous complaints from owners pertaining to noise coming from the unit, rooftop, and courtyard to the point that specific monetary fines were discussed at the last meeting.

This pissed me off.  Let’s start from the top…

  1. Cigarette Butts scattered around the property by guests.  – UMMM… none of us smoke, nor do any of our friends, how about instead of picking on the poor kids who aren’t invited to the association meetings they pick on the lady who runs her psychiatry business out of her home and whose patients hang out in the courtyard while they’re waiting on their appointment.

Young kids with good jobs = non-smokers

Psychos = smokers

Seems pretty simple.


  1. The fire escape is for emergencies only blah blah blah – this one is legit, because when JM lived with us he used the fire escape to get into our apartment almost daily.  But that has been 3 months ago so they’re too late on that one.  Oh, and Anth the time he snuck a shacking whore down it.


  1. The association requires the names and numbers of all tenants living in the property.  —So give it to them dumb shit.  You have them.  I hate people.  HATE! So stupid.


  1. There have been numerous complaints from owners pertaining to noise coming from the unit, rooftop, and courtyard… So I’d like to say we have been pretty calm with the exception of the weekend Lucky was in town/the bachelor party.  Other than that they’ve got nothing.  However, our neighbors do have rooftop parties every weekend and sometimes on Thursdays so maybe they should’ve spoken up and said they’re the noisy ones instead of the poor 20 something’s who weren’t there to defend themselves. 


So Anth kept saying he didn’t care and blah blah blah, but I have a feeling he’s going to care when we get a big fat fine the mail.  Which will be when I walk over to the president’s house (next door, also the douche who set the complex on fire) and tell him that if he wants to fine us for being loud I’m going to fine his baby for waking me up with it’s stupid baby noises every morning at 5am.  And I’m going to fine him for revving the engine to his porche every night when he gets home from cheating on his wife at midnight, and every morning when he leaves at 6am, and he can pay the fine for the grass mowers that are loud when they come at the butt crack of dawn to mow the grass on Saturday mornings.   And then I’m going to fine the neighbors on the other side of us for not turning their alarm clock off on a Saturday morning and it beeped for 4 hours straight beginning at 5:30am.  Ready. To. Rumble.

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Gizzy vs. Big City

I would like to say ditto to Lucky’s post yesterday.  I’m bored with my life and I just moved 8 months ago.  I think a lot of it is because I’m not meeting new people that I like and want to hang out with and because it’s a hassle to try to go out and find new people.  Not a hassle as in going up to people and striking up a conversation, it’s just a hassle to go out.  After roaming the streets waiting for an empty cab to pick you up, waiting in traffic when you finally get a ride, and scoping out the scene I’m exhausted before I ever even get my first drink and I’ve already spent $20 and an hour out.  Let alone my friends here are all dudes.  That’s problem #2.  I’m missing the token partner in crime.  

When Lucky was here we had a blast.  We were meeting people left and right and it was the first time since I had moved to the big city that I gave a guy my number.  When I’m out with a group of guys it’s like no one will come up to me because I’m standing there with 3 dudes, but then I don’t feel comfortable going up to hot guys because what do I say? Hey do you wanna come do some shots with me and my friends…Anth, JM, and Doogie? You guys will have tons in common! You all have weiners.

I guess my first step, as lesbian as it sounds, would be to meet a single girl to go out with.  Then we can go out and meet guys.  I do have Jess, but she’s one of those girls.  And by those girls I mean she is the type of girl where yes she is a cute girl, but she’s no prettier than me or any other girl, but some how she gets all the guys.  Yeah, maybe it’s because she can’t handle her booze and gets drunk after one drink and guys think shes easy or maybe it’s because she makes it a point to eye fuck the shit out of every guy that she thinks is attractive.  Maybe a little of both.

But while we’re being honest, I don’t think my soulmate/person I’m going to marry is in this city – I’m here for my career.  100% of the guys I have met in this city are into themselves and themselves only and I am not into that.  It’s exactly like college.  The only thing they do on the weekend is party and get laid. 

For example, 2 weekends ago I had plans to go to the beach and hang out with Jess.  After the beach we were going to come back get ready and go out for a girls night. 20 minutes before she’s supposed to be at my apartment she calls me and says she’s bringing her friend Mary, fine with me. 

When she gets to my apartment she informs me that we’re going to meet her flavor of the week, his friend, and cousin at the beach and they want us to bring a bottle of alcohol and they will get chasers.  Unfair, but whatever I have an exccess of booze from my days as a liquor promoter so I grabbed a bottle of that and we were on our way.

We get to the beach and first I meet Jess’ flavor, he’s cute but totally into himself and barely paid her any attention all day long because he was busy picking up other girls on the beach right in front of her face.  I mean why wouldn’t he? She had already slept with him on their first date so there’s nothing else to look forward to.  So he got wasted (off of my alcohol) and wandered around looking for his next piece of ass.

While on the other hand, his cousin (to my surprise, was The Bed Wetter) and friend had their sights focused on me.  Before the friend ever heard me speak a word had already told Jess that he liked me, and Jess had already conveyed the information to me.  Like no, he doesn’t like me, he likes the way I look and wants to fuck me.  After I started the down slope to 30 I decided I’m not dealing with guys like that anymore because they’re the assholes that will inevitiably fuck me over.  Because honestly?  What in the hell makes this guy think he even stands a chance with me?  Not that I am some beauty queen awesome person who thinks they’re better than everyone else, but you really think we are 12 years old and you can tell my friend you like me and I’ll just rip my clothes off?

This is what I mean, every guy here is full of themselves.  If they have a corporate job they think they’re awesome and they can get any girl that their stone cold hearts desire.  No thank you.

So anyway, I’ve made the executive decision that once I’ve been at my job for 1 year (January) I’m going to start the job search again.  I think I’ve proven to anyone that gives a shit that I can make it in the big city and now I’m over it.  If I’m ever going to get married and settle down I don’t want it to be with one of these full of themselves assholes who will probably have an affair with his sexretary. 

The people here aren’t good people, and that’s what I need in my life.  I’ve prooven myself and there’s 5 months left on the clock, so here you go Big City… it’s your turn. 

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