In order from most recent to oldest, no other introduction necessary:
In order from most recent to oldest, no other introduction necessary:
In light of recent events if I see so much as a happy couple on tv – I get pissed off, change the channel, and feel like I need a beer with a shot of tequila in it. No, I don’t always get one, I’m not an alcoholic. Yet. So I was pretty delighted to see that facebook added yet another new feature where they highlight people’s relationships, engagements, and marriages so that you can congratulate the happy couple. Yep, there they are… right above the birthdays on the homepage.
What the fucking fuck balls Zuckerberg?
The best part is that it doesn’t go away the next day like the birthdays. It stays there, mocking you, for like a damn week. From the research I’ve done so far, I have figured out that there’s no way to turn this annoyance off completely. You just have to X out of each individual relationship as they come up. This might be the last straw for me with the facebook. It’s bad enough that everyone with kids turned it into Babybook, but now this?
Hey facebook, how about you get a feature for us singletons? Like a pop up, that shows up every time you log on telling everyone what awesome thing we did last night by ourselves. For example, when someone logged on it might pop up and be like *bloop* Lucky wrote 15 articles and made $1,000 while you sat at home staring at that dark speck in your kids buttcrack… IS it a mole with irregular boarders or is it just a fleck of leftover poop?
Anyway, I started my new job on Monday and so far so good! I don’t want to be all, OMG I LOVE IT SO MUCH! Because I think I said that when I started my last job. The fact is, work sucks, but the people at this place don’t seem to be so serious.
For example, Monday morning they kind of gave me the run around of their financial system, gave me a stack of files and had me get to work. In that process I was able to meet some people via email around the company. One lady in particular and I had to work through some issues with an account and yesterday afternoon I got this email from her:
Subject: The deed is done!
I walked in the sun both ways. Drops of sweat are dripping from my hair and face all over my silk blouse from Chico’s. I am going to sit here in my office, drinking cold water, until 3:30pm, with my fan 12″ from my whole body. All undergarments are soaked. It’s sickening. Diane signed it and handed it across the room to a person that works in the Controller’s Office, so I did not have to walk there as well. They were all in a meeting on the 4th floor.
I LOLed really hard at this for about 5 minutes. Mostly because earlier in the day this lady called me and was whining about how she didn’t want to walk across the company campus because she was wearing high heels, she’s probably 70 years old, so her description of the aftermath is pretty amusing. People at my old job wouldn’t have ever dared to send an email like this because they’re all boring. The email would have read: delivered.
Because this job came about so fast, I didn’t really have time to look for appropriate housing so I had to move back in with my old roommate (Mom). It’s not bad, my roommate is pretty much the coolest ever, so I have no complaints… but I am already anxious to get back out there on my own. I picked out living room furniture and everything. It’s plum. YEEE!!!!
AND in other news, am I the only loser that watches the new show on Nick @ Nite, Hollywood Heights? It’s pretty much the best show ever, and what makes it the best show ever is that it’s on every single night. So the longest you ever have to wait for a new episode is 2 days. And it doesn’t hurt that this hottie is the star…
I hate to admit that this show is what gets me through the day, but it’s true. You guys should check it out, and then tweet this guy and tell him he should marry me @codylongo Kthxbye.
Guess what day it is. It’s the return of Douche Day!!! You know what that means, something happened with the man himself, Douchearoo. Seriously, after all of the awful things that the ex Snoop-Linus did to me, I think I still hate Douchearoo more. Because he just tries to be an asshole.
I was driving to work this morning, minding my own business, when I noticed a child’s toy chillin’ on the back of a semi. I thought it was funny, because it was one of those alphabet caterpillars. So I got as close as I could, took a picture, and posted it on facebook saying, “Aw some little kid lost its toy!” Not 2 minutes after, Douchearoo comments “The kid is an it?” Yeah asshole, IT is. I didn’t see if it was a little boy or a little girl who left his or her toy on the back of this semi, and you know what else? With all the recent baby drama I like to call kid’s it. So step off, you don’t know me!
If anyone else would have made that comment I would’ve laughed and been like, “HA HA, yep, it is an IT!” But I think any other person that would have been jackass enough to think about leaving a comment like that would have concluded beforehand why I called the kid it. Just for funsies let’s run through the scenarios of other words I could’ve used and why I didn’t:
1. Aw some little kid lost his or her toy
-No. This is facebook, not effing English class, I’m not going to sound like a tool.
Aw some little kid lost their toy
-Then his comment would’ve been, “Since when do kids multiply” or something just as pretentious.
It’s like I told Lucky, if he wants to be silent facebook friends, I am totally fine with that, but don’t comment on my shit! He would do things like this when we were together and it really got under my skin. He didn’t do it to me so much as he would to others. But, it honestly made me mad that I was dating someone who preyed on the weaknesses of others so he could feel better about himself and try and make himself look cool.
But really, correcting people’s spelling and grammar is all he’s ever had. He’s ugly, balding, and fat, so his feeble mind is all that he has going for him. That’s not even saying much, because I think he has trouble holding entry level jobs. As for me, well I’m just coming into my prime and I work at one of the best companies in the world in my industry. So you know all of that has to make him feel really good about dumping me a few years ago, I sure am glad he did.
As much as I wanted to reply to the comment and tell him that he sucks and I hate him, I didn’t. I deleted the picture, and deleted him as a friend. I’m almost 27 years old and can’t be getting into facebook battles anymore. I also have to think about what I’ve got going on this weekend, the hangout with High School Crush, a public fight with my ex over facebook for all to see could easily ruin that. How unattractive and trashy is it when people get in public fights over facebook and twitter? Ugh! I’m taking a classy approach in 2012.
I am happy to report that I am now no longer facebook friends with any of my ex-boyfriends. I’m free!!!!
For all of eternity I have said that if I ever get married I will elope in a foreign country and invite only my parents, my husband’s parents, and Lucky. Here are some examples of why:
I present to you each of my cousin’s most recent facebook statuses, plus a little commentary from me:
you think your so hick by the way you talk and what you wear.. news flash hun, clothes can be bought, and you clearly watch the guys too much.. you cant just be a hick after one summer, you should be your whole life.. you gotta live it not wear it.(: (No. No smiley face. First, like 15 people liked this status. Second, yes the way you talk and what you wear is what makes you a hick. After that one summer I am assuming the individual she is referring to participated in hick like activities such as riding 4 wheelers, attending monster truck rallys, and wearing camouflage not for funsies but to hunt wild animals – as one must do these summer activities in order to be accepted into the coveted hick crowd, which my cousin is clearly a part of. If you ask me, talking hick + dressing hick + participating in hick like activities = hick – but what would I know? I’m an outsider.)
The first nite we hang out we wrecked ur truck, went to jail u lost us job, ur license and got chared with endangering my life and u still want to be with me . I only have one question y? (Christ.)
just because you live in our state doesnt mean your a hilljack, just because you got a pair of boots doesnt mean your cool.. just because you drink mcdonalds sweet tea does not mean your not from the south.. (So like, what’s the effing deal with hilljacks and why would anyone in their right mind try to be one on purpose? Also, I’m confused in regards to the McDonalds sweet tea. First, we are not from the south. Second, did I miss the memo that it is only acceptable for Yankees to drink McDonalds sweet tea to prove to other disbelieving northers they are in fact from the north? It’s arguable that people all around the world drink McDonalds sweet tea everyday because not only is it good, but it is 1 dollar. Also, boots do make you cool…
…The club does not lie.)
ya right, like i really coulda said somethin, you wouldnt have heard me if a train was coming.. (??? I dont get it? This is the status of the mother of the two hick-wannabe haters so that kind of explains it.)
At home watchin tv (Someone actually liked this.)
Brad locked himself in the bathroom. Stuck for 1/2 hr. Chad was throwing a fit the whole time. Grandpa and grandma had to take the door off to get him out! Then they just sat in the floor hugging each other. Must be a twin thing……….(LOLZ!!!)
Heading back from lunch… Gonna be a good day… Cold day… But a goodern 🙂 (Maybe cousins 1 & 3 from above could direct their hilljack posing friends to this cousin for hilljack lessons.)
I got an infestion problem at the house today. So if anyone goes by my house don’t yell out immagration. There’s a crew of mexicans fixing my roof. (Le sigh.)
Ya know fightin in a basement offers a lot of difficulties.. #1 being your fightin in a basement!! (I’m not sure that I care to know what this is about.)
Apparently my mom can roll a joint out of a sugar packet and parsley flakes what can ur mom do? (Unfortunately, I was present for this. On our cruise last year my aunt did indeed roll a joint out of a sugar packet and oregano, lit it, and pretended to smoke it. Her son is proud.)
To funny!! We are eating at taco bell, and the we will rock you song comes on. The part where they say ” you big disgrace” Riley yells out loud ” you biscuit case” lol I thought it was to funny not to share 🙂 (LOLZ^2!!)
Exactly one year ago today Kyle told me he loved me for the first time!! I love you!!! ❤ (Oh fuck off, you’re 19 you don’t know what love is.)
Monday night Lucky and I were BBMing whilst watching Most Eligible Dallas, a guilty pleasure for us both. We were freaking out over Courtney and Matt’s so hot hot tub kiss and moments later getting pissed at Courtney ruining it by opening up her big ugly mouth. Which got us on the topic of hot kisses and hot guys which ultimately lead to us talking about my one true love, Neal Bledsoe, and how my facebook friend request is still pending nearly 1 year (10 months, to the day) later.
Lucky tried making me feel better by insisting he was in a part of the world where he didn’t have internet access or that he’s been busy working. But we all know that’ s a lie, his profile picture is different.
Part of my New Year’s resolution is going to be to let the past be the past and not hold grudges, to some extent, Douchearoo and Snoop-Linus? Grudge. The girl in my sorority who told on me for having hot Australians back to the sorority house one night, which ultimately got me “sober ride” duty for 3 weekends? Forgiven.
So I figured why not try this new and improved Gizzy out with Neal? It can only help. So, Neal Bledsoe… I know you google yourself and you will read this, this is Gizzy speaking, I forgive you for not accepting my friend request, even though it’s probably the biggest mistake you’ve ever made… cauuuse I think you’d like my goods. Just saying. Your loss, you’ll regret this, but I forgive you.
Don’t worry though, I’m not going to cancel my friend request just in case one day he decides to accept me, and propose to me, and have some sex with me, or eat some chicken, whatever, I’ll be there.
Wow, I sound like a stalker.
Wouldn’t it be funny if I actually did meet Neal Bledsoe one day and we like, fell in love and I was like omg guess what I used to hate on you so bad on my blog and always talked about how you were such a jerk for not accepting my facebook friend request yet so so hot at the same time? And he’d be like, YES Gizzy… that is soooo funny, aren’t you glad you were wrong and I’m like the nicest guy ever? And I’d be like yeah and then we’d make out.
So if you ever come here and one day Cocktails At Tiffany’s is just gone out of thin air, it’s because I met Neal Bledsoe and he CAN NEVER KNOW ABOUT THIS. And you and I, we can’t be blog friends anymore.
So my boss is on vacation for the next week and I am soOoOoOoOoO excited! I was telling Lucky that I feel like a teenager whose parents finally decided it was ok to leave me at home alone for the weekend. Like I was acting like a child. I ate so much candy that I gave myself a stomach ache, talked to my friends all day, and googled things I shouldn’t have been while at work, I even left early yesterday and gave the office a big su-fi as I walked on the elevator. I mean my boss like NEVER takes vacation and it’s the most annoying thing ever. Like I always feel like when she is there I have to be working hard in case she walks around the corner, I don’t want her seeing me on facebook, playing games, or looking up flights to go visit Lucky. Not only is she giving herself a vacation for the next week, she’s giving me a vacation too! WAHOO!!!!
Back track! I just spent more time then I care to admit googling Neal Bledsoe to find out if he is single and if I should seriously be on the prowl, and he’s not. He has a girlfriend… for like years. And she’s like 9 feet tall, blonde, and gorgeous. CHRIST! Just when you think things are starting to turn around. I’m done. I’m just done. I’m going to stop wasting my time on all these hot men and just start reading the encyclopedia. Reading the encyclopedia = FAIL.
Well, we are officially back in action. WordPress shut us down for a hot minute saying we violated their terms of service. Which was a big lie. I emailed them and they said it was a mistake. You’re damn right it was a mistake! They must have been trying to put us on freshly pressed and deactivated us instead. That’s gotta be it. Anyway…
Lately I’ve been in a slump, I don’t feel like going out or doing anything fun, and I really just want to be left the hell alone. By everyone other than my family and Lucky. I’d like to go entire days without making fake conversation with people at work about the weather and how slow the copy machine is. I don’t want to hang out with my roommates. I want to come home, eat my dinner, and relax in my room alone while drinking a glass of wine or 5.
It seems like if I am short with people at work I’m constantly getting the, “What’s wrong, is everything ok?” Look/questioning from everyone. Yes! Everything is fucking fine, I just want to come in here, do my job, and leave. I don’t care about your grandkids, or what you had for dinner, or what your plans are this weekend. If there were people my age I’d probably feel different, especially if there were hot guys or halfway decent girls I could possibly be friends with. But I’m tired, and I have a lot of work, and hearing about peoples lives gives me less energy to do work and stay up past 8:30. But last Friday I had to hear a 20 minute long explanation of what Ciggy Breath was doing for his wife’s birthday month. That I never asked about. And I just had to leave, that was it – I was cashed after hearing that.
So to add to hating everyone last week I woke up with a 6AM text from Anth saying, “Did you stand there while they fucked with my sunglasses? And, where did you go?”
A little backstory, a few weeks ago my old college pal Gigi came for a visit and we went to a concert on the beach. After the concert we were walking to catch a cab, something happened and I smacked Anth’s chest. His sunglasses were on the inside of his shirt and when I smacked his chest one of the lenses popped out of his shades. I offered to take them to get them fixed and that was the end of it.
So, when the whole fire thing happened I sat down to take a looksie at his sunglasses. The lenses are held in with fishing wire so I figured I could put it back in myself. I did and then I cleaned them and all was good. A week and a half later I got that text from Anth.
Now, I don’t condone lying to anyone, but in a case like this if I would have told Anth that I fixed his sunglasses he would’ve gone off on me and accused me of messing them up somehow. So when I told him I would get them fixed he said I could go to any optometry place and it would be fine. I told him I took him to sunglass hut because they’re probably all high and wouldn’t recall if I came in there like an optometry place would. So then he goes off on a tangent about how there’s a chip missing from the bottom of the lens, you can barely notice it, and how I should’ve gone to an optometry place because they have better tools for that stuff. Well you know what dbag? I fixed it and I didn’t use any tools, and I sure as hell didn’t chip the god damn lens using my fingers to put it back in.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m extra irritable or what the deal is, but I just did not want to deal with this. I immediately texted Lucky and told her the sitch, she said it was stupid and I agreed. Once all was said and done I just ignored him, if he wants me to take them to get the lens fixed (which I’m not entirely sure happened because of something I did) I will get them fixed. But, he’s going to have to grow some damn balls and ask me to do it. Because it’s time to be a man and stop confronting people through emails and text messages. Yes, I confronted them about my cheese through an email, but I would’ve said it to their faces had they been at the apartment when I noticed it was all gone, I just wanted my cheese replaced before the next morning damnit.
The day before that or after, I can’t even remember now they all run together, he was texting me complaining about me turning the air conditioning up 1 degree in the morning when I left. God forbit it is 1 degree warmer in the apartment when NO ONE is there all day long so that we save some money/help Earth. So I asked what his problem with it was, he said that he gets hot when he sleeps. Ok, so turn it down when you sleep or if you get hot, who cares. No that wasn’t good enough, he had to complain about how sometimes he forgets to turn it down and then he wakes up sweating. But of course he’s too lazy to get out of bed and turn it down or not use a fucking down comforter in the middle of summer. But I digress. See what I’m dealing with here?
It gets slightly worse, after fending off my nagging non-husband all week, the weekend had finally arrived. I was planning on eating buffalo wild wings and drinking my bud light limes and laying in bed all weekend and talking to NO ONE. I am all independant woman the past year or so, don’t need a man, yada yada… I’m sure there are songs about it. But, when Lucky called me last weekend to tell me about the latest with her cray cray dad I ventured out of my room and went to the roof so that I could have good cell service. As I do, I hadn’t been up there for more than 2 seconds and here comes Anth. So I go down to the kitchem, 2 seconds later here comes Anth. Why? I don’t know, I guess he needed attention or something. Because he wasn’t following me around because he had a purpose for being in either of those rooms, he was just lingering.
So I go into my room and lay halfway in my room and halfway out my sliding doors so my phone would still get service (HATE AT&T btw) and not 15 minutes later JM busts in my bedroom door because he’s visiting and thought I was gone, so he was going to sleep in my bed.
Then every time I come downstairs I get shit about how I don’t hang out with them and how I’m boring and will die a lonely old cat lady because I never come out of my room. And that is exactly why I don’t come out of my room, so I don’t have to hear shit like that.
I like my roommates, and I like to party with them occassionally. But I don’t want to hang out with them from the time I wake up in the morning until I go to bed. #1 they watch bad tv (sports – not the good ones either, they watch boring stuff, like wrestling, tennis, and golf) #2 I don’t want to hear about how I’m so lame #3 I don’t want to hear about your girlfriend/girl you’ve been banging because I don’t care.
So men, I get it. I get what you’re going through having a nagging wife and no sex. I get it.
After we ripped the shots with the 20-somethings, we played a nice round of beer pong with them. I don’t even remember who won, TMA. Too much alcohol.
And we’d had enough, so we went back to the roof to continue our personal drinking antics.
At some point or other, we decided it was time to go inside and start getting ready for the night (birthday dinner at a sushi joint!) while watching a little Teen Mom, of course.
This is when we decided to put the wine glasses to the test (Gizzy got one for herself). And yes, we’ve got pics to prove it (coming soon, Thoughtsappear!). So we got all fresh and clean and into some slutastic dresses and headed out. I mean, not to brag, but we looked good.
Once we were seated, Gizzy was completely disturbed and overtaken by a couple across the room. They were acting as though they were on a first date, but in fact, they were married. They also looked Amish. I may have also made the comment, “I didn’t know Amish people ate sushi.” They were just about as awkward as you could imagine, no conversation, no footsie, not even any eye contact. I wanted to order a round of shots for them laced with viagra. At the end of the dinner they got up from the table and held hands as they walked away, really?! I’m sure they went home and got it on all over their beige furniture and against their white walls after like the best date EVER. Christ.
Anyway, we ordered a bottle of sake, some edamame, and several sushi rolls that were absolutely heaven. The waiter even brought us a delish dessert with a birthday candle in it! Happy Birfday Lucky!
We left, and hopped into a cab to get to this bar the guys swore was always a good time. Well…the atmosphere was pretty cool, but it was really cliquey, and we were looking for single, hot guys. so we ventured to the bathroom and as soon as we came out, this guy is all, “HEY HAVE YOU MET MY FRIEND?” So we go and chat it up with his friend, who insists we go get ourselves a drink and meet him later. One of them wasn’t bad looking, but they also informed us they had been drinking all day, we took that as though they weren’t looking for some friendly conversation and peaced out. I would’ve been really into it about 4 drinks later.
He doesn’t offer to buy us the drink. So we took a shot and left.
Our next stop was actually full of hotties, along with some lady who had her tits painted in red, white, and blue. So we had a drink there, I tried to dance with some sistas, but it didn’t work out. Upon our arrival, we got free passes to this supposed dance club upstairs, so we decided to check it out…only to see that it was basically loser central with a blowup doll on stage. And a retard, I love me some retards, but not on the dance floor. And especially not when a stripper pole is in the hizzy.
We went across the street and THAT’S where the party was. They had awesome music, the place was packed, and the DJ kept being like, “IT’S LUCKY’S BIIIIRTHDAY!” And she gave out free shots of something…it was good.
So G and I were talking, dancing, or something when this guy comes up to Gizzy all dressed in a white button down with a skinny black tie, and tells her he’s a billionare…He said his name was Danny, and he didn’t want to tell me his last name because I would only use him for his money (versus… his penis? IDK) and I simply said, “Unless it’s Bonaduce, I don’t care.” Still, he was cute enough and I was drunk enough that I was contemplating throwing him a make out.
And, just when you think he’s sort of cocky, yet sort of cute, he completely falls over backward, pulling a bistro table down with him.
Seriously! Funniest part of the night!
I was certain he was going to get kicked out, but he popped right up like it never happened. And kept dancing. Regardless, Gizzy and I turned our backs to him. Just then, this smokin’ hot guy comes up to Gizzy, introduces himself and they are chatting it up while I’m probably stumbling around alone.
The hot guy leaves for a brief second, comes back, and is all, “Hey guys! Meet my friend Danny”—the billionaire. Hot guy was laughing, knowing full well this Danny guy was hammered and that we had just been talking to him and shunned him. Danny is all dancing like Lady Gags, doing some robot shit, and his friends are off in the distance laughing hysterically, while Danny sloshes drink all over my party dress.
All the while, I’m talking to hottie, who’s name is Mat (yes another one, but spelled different.) He had big muscles that Lucky kept feeling and was tall, and hot, and even asked for my number. He has texted me quite a bit since that weekend, and I”ve been somewhat responsive. I start out strong and then get too drunk and forget to write him back. Also take note that I don’t question why I’m single anymore. I just know why now.
Around 1:30, we bolted. I had a good buzz and didn’t want to over do it and end up with my head in the toilet.
So we head back to the house, in an interesting cab, who told us everything we needed to know about driving one. They have to lease the cabs for $300-450 A WEEK! I might now be interested in starting a cab business.
Once we get back to the house, half of the bachelor party is missing. Gizzy surprises me with a huge German chocolate cake (my favorite) that’s basically in a safe. My new friends sang me happy birthday and we chow down.
Then, we venture back to Gizzy’s room for a game of Mouse Trap. At this point, we are sipping on the remaining wine in our glasses that have already collected dust—and no, we don’t seem to care.
One of the guys from the party joins us, and begins to tell us rousing information that he’s learned as a med student. During this conversation we learned a lot about how we can contract STD’s and not even see the symptoms basically until we die. Med student then discussed giving us each a pap-smear in my bathroom to check for unsuspected STDS we may have contracted in our days sleeping with dirty gentlemen suitor whores and we all got up from our chairs…
…TO BE CONTINUED…