Tag Archives: food

Anth gets stood up. AHHHHHahahahahaha

So, this morning I had to eat my yogurt with a butter knife.  Everyone in my office was like stopping by my desk being all, “Gizzy what are you doing? Use a spoon you silly billy!”  Like they think I’m just using a knife because I like to challenge myself?  Le sigh.  Obvi, I forgot a spoon.  God, Mondays are the pits.

Anyway I’m sure rather than hearing about my utensil depraved meal you’d enjoy a story about how Anth got stood up last week.  Tehehehe!!

Sometimes I think he asks me questions so that I’ll reciprocate and ask him the same question back, then he can rub it in my face when he has a date because I never go on any, and I’m a big fat whiney loser. 

So Wednesday night I was sitting in traffic and I got a text from Anth, “What are you doing for dinner?” This isn’t immediately a red flag that he has a date because sometimes we will get dinner together. BUT, since I’ve been on my Hawaii diet plan (17 more days!!!) I’ve limited my meals to celery, pickles, lettuce, and smelling actual food and he is fully aware of this.  So I replied, “Ummm licking my burger shaped ice block… what are you doing for dinner?”  His reply? “Date night.”  I should’ve just stopped and let it eat at him that I could care less about his floozy date, but instead I asked him about it, “Oh! Who are you taking out and where are you going?!” “Megan. Italian restaurant.” 

I may have already filled you guys in on how Anth met Megan, I honestly can’t remember, but none the less it’s a funny/pathetic story so I’ll tell it again.  Our friend Snatch works with Megan’s mother.  Megan’s mother was always showing Snatch pictures of Megan and going on and on about her blah blah blah.  Well, Snatch recently got married so he couldn’t go for Megan, but guess who could?  Why Snatch’s BFF Anth, of course!  Snatch showed Anth some pictures of Megan where she looked like you guessed it, Megan Fox, so Anth was all about it.  The plan was that Anth would friend Megan on facebook and the rest would be history.

And it went down pretty much exactly like that.  Anth has taken Megan out a few different times, but like all the other girls he takes on dates, he claims she’s sOoOoOoOoO much more into him than he is her.

Back to last week:  the plan was that Anth would take Megan to the Italian restaurant (The same restaurant he takes ALL of his dates.  Um, hilarious.) on Wednesday night and that would be that.  He was supposed to pick her up at 7:30.  Around 7 she texted him asking if they could eat at 8 because she had just gotten off work (late) and didn’t think she’d be able to make it home and get ready in half an hour.  So they changed the date to 8.  At 7:45 Anth texted her asking where she lived because he was about to leave and at 8:20 when she still hadn’t responded I started making jokes that he was getting stood up and how that must really hurt the ego.  Then I left.  At 9:15 when I returned he was still there, still hadn’t heard from her, and told me “I think she fell asleep.” 

Well sure enough on Friday he tells me that the date is rescheduled for Monday and he was right she fell asleep.  “She said that she put her phone next to her head so that when I texted her it would wake her up, but she dozed off and didn’t hear it.”  You know, I operate the exact same way, this is NOT what happened, whether he believes it or not, she didn’t want to go on the date.

Of course I didn’t tell Anth that she just flat out stood him up, because I kind of have a heart.  But, Saturday night Lucky and I spent our evening on the phone and laughed and laughed over what we knew was going through this girl’s head.

Because really? She had just gotten off work at 7, a half an hour wasn’t enough time to get ready, but an hour is enough time to get ready AND take a little napski?  I don’t think sooooo.   

So I just let him think she fell asleep, I didn’t want to be the one to crush his dreams and inform him that he’s not God’s gift to women like he thinks – that is, until Friday night rolled around.

I was having a little brewski, celebrating another week in the office where I didn’t kill anyone and explaining to Anth all of the reasons why Ryan Gosling and I are soul mates (seriously, the guy is so perfect I could BARF) while heating up my dinner in the toaster oven when he started to piss me off:

A: Ummmm why are you baking that? It should be on toast.

G: Does it really matter?  Either way the food will get warm.

A: Toasting will make it crispy.

G: It’s a fucking chicken wrap.

A: Just saying.

G: Well, good thing you’re not eating it.

There were a series of conversations like this throughout the night.  Then, the last straw was after I inhaled about 5 beers and he started in about this girl he hooked up with at a wedding a few weeks ago:

A: This girl isn’t talking to me.  And I just don’t understand!!! Why hasn’t she texted me?!!

G: Uhh, probably cause she doesn’t fucking like you!

A: Wha?! No, she likes me.

G: The lack of texting seems to say differently.

A: No, you’re wrong.

G: I think it’s funny.

A: What?

G: I think it’s really fucking funny that you think you’re all that and a bag of chicken and this girl doesn’t like you AND you got stood up on Wednesday.  You needed something to pop your giant head.

A: My head isn’t giant.  You are suuuuch a bitch.

G:  😀

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Things I’m Thankful for on Our 2nd to Last Thanksgiving

With Thanksgiving just a week away most people are planning what dishes they are going to prepare for dinner next Thursday, planning where they’ll be spending this joyous holiday, who they’ll be spending it with, and maybe even what they’ll wear that will allow for an extra spoonful of stuffing, or 6.  

In years past, the week before Thanksgiving Lucky and I would’ve been on the phone together into the wee hours of the night complaining about how much it’s going to suck to be single for yet another coupley holiday.  This year is different though.  For once, we’re both content with being single and could care less if we were in a relationship or had a significant other to be thankful for.  Honestly, I’m thankful for myself.  That’s right, I’m thankful that I have the motivation to drag my pathetic single self (not my words, but the words of those around me who assume I am a cutter because I’m single) out of bed every morning to go to work.  

Which brings me to the next thing I’m thankful for:  Myself again.  I’m thankful that I have the willpower not to bitch slap my boss across the face every time she tells me to do something I’ve already done, so that I can keep my job and continue to bring home my poverty level salary.  I’m also thankful that my office decided to close at noon the day before Thanksgiving, also known as the first day I have taken off in a year.  Oh, I’m getting my half day back, I’m get.ting. it!

I’m thankful that someone important at work vetoed the idea of making a Thanksgiving tree that we cut out outlines of our hands and write 5 things we are thankful for on the fingers.  No I am not joking.  And no I do not work with children.

I’m thankful that I have the decency not to murder (whoopsie, forgot this is a family holiday) tie Anth to his bed in his sleep for not understanding that I bring home a poverty level salary and can’t afford things like maids, food, or underwear.  I’m thankful that after having the decency not to murder tie Anth to his bed in his sleep because he assumes I make more money than I actually do, I also have the common sense not to murder  tie him to his bed in his sleep for leaving crumbs on the kitchen counter and a sink full of dishes right before he leaves for a week and  a half.  

I’m thankful that there are enough crazies out there that think the world is actually going to end next December that I can be sarcastic with what I’m thankful for this year and save the real stuff for next year right before we’re all blown to smithereens.  I’m also thankful that those crazies inspired the movie 2012 because it’s really good, and I like it a lot.

I’m thankful that Zac Hanson kind of still has long hair 

And he still looks really good, and he’s wholesome.  Which means that at 12 years old I had better taste in men then I do now.

I’m thankful that I used protection the last time I had sex because having to feed a 10 month old baby before I could feed myself next week would really put a damper on my holiday spirit.

I’m thankful that solo cups aren’t see thru so that I can still get sloshed at Thanksgiving and no one will know since Grandma forbids drinking alcohol.

I’m thankful that there was an episode of Jeopardy last week that had a lot of fashion questions and now my roommates and their friends think that I’m really smart because I got them all right.

I’m thankful for my whirlpool bathtub, even though it takes 45 minutes to fill up and by the time it does I’m kind of over it, but those 2 minutes I actually sit in it are heaven.

I’m thankful for my vision so that I can look at hot guys like Alexander Skarsgard. I’m also thankful for Stelan Skarsgard for creating Alexander Skarsgard.

I’m thankful for these thingys that keep me from putting holes in my walls

I’m also thankful that they’re kind of fun to play with

I’m thankful for Forever 21 for having reasonably priced clothing, although their return policy blows donkey.  On the flip-side, I am not thankful for Bally’s Total Fitness/Bally’s Sports clubs for having 2 separate types of gyms and for not telling members that if you join total fitness you can’t go to the sports clubs locations even though you only want to use the treadmill and the location of the sports club is more convenient for you.

I’m thankful for my future puppy, Marshmallow Fluffy Butt, for being so cute

And um, I’m thankful for my family when they aren’t razzing me about not being married, my friends when they aren’t razzing me about not being married, our readers (always), and, uh, my health.  Lets eat bitchesssss.

 

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11 weeks and 11 pounds

This week has been a real whirlwind for me, first because of all the unexpected contact with guys from my past over the weekend.  Then, as soon as I got to work yesterday I had a missed voicemail from my stepmom, saying my dad was in the hospital.  She didn’t leave much detail, only saying that he was bitten by a snake twice, he was ok, but would be in the hospital over night.

So I started to freak out and basically got nothing done at work yesterday.  It took me forever to get ahold of them and when I finally did they were just kind of ho hum about it.  Apparently my dad was with my grandpa at his country cabin and my dad was mulling around in a wood pile and when he pulled his hand out and it was gushing blood, swollen, and had 4 fang marks where the blood was coming from.  My grandpa had some kind of venom extraction do-hickey at his cabin so they tried that, but it didn’t work so they took my dad to the hospital where his motor skills were becoming slow and he was having trouble breathing… the works.

He didn’t see what kind of snake bit him, but they could tell from the side effects that it was venomous. He is ok, he gets to go home in the late morning and I still hate snakes.  I mean really… could anything else bad happen with snakes? Oh right, I forgot to mention that over the weekend when Betty was visiting she wanted to make sure the snake was in the cage and  we discovered that in fact it is not and Doogie has yet to inform anyone, but took the liberty of shutting off the heat lamp to save some energy and a few bucks.

So I told Anth that because of what happened to my dad it’s totally justifiable that I murder Doogie’s snake if it’s ever found…. and he told me that I need to reevaluate what is a big deal and what isn’t.  I mean…. my dad being in the hospital is a big deal, fucking asshole.  He claimed that me hating Doogie’s snake wasn’t a big deal because it’s a boa and it can’t do anything to me.  But, the simple fact that I could wake up in the middle of the night to that thing trying to choke me out because Doogie is so careless with it is plenty of reason to be afraid of it and want it dead.  I stand by my opinion – Anth’s an asshole!

Anyway… exactly 11 weeks from today I leave for Hawaii!! And that means I am getting down to the diet crunch time.  I’ve been slack assing on the working out because I’ve been super stressed at work, but I made the decision to make myself work out every day for the next 11 weeks and then after that I can go back to being fat.

So, if anyone wants to join my weight loss crusade I’ve done some research and here’s how it’s going down.  3500 calories = 1 pound.  But, you don’t lose a pound just by cutting 3500 calories out of your diet… it has to be a 3500 calorie deficit.  So you start with your resting (or basal) metabolic rate… I’m going with 1200 calories per day, but here’s a link to find yours in case you aren’t a 26 year old, 120 pound, 5 foot 3, female.

So every day my base calorie intake is 1200 calories, anything over is weight gain and anything under is weight loss.  To lose 1 pound a week I need to either burn 500 calories a day by exercising or only eat 700 calories.  So I’m going to need some ideas from everyone on low calorie foods that I can eat a lot of because only lazy days when I don’t want to work out I’m going to need some tasty ideas!

I ordered this Victoria’s Secret seashell/mermaid bikini

I was pretty disappointed last night when I tried it on and it didn’t look the same on me as it does this girl… so, operation lose a pound a week from now until I leave for Hawaii is in full force.  

Any dieting tips/staying strong advice/words of wisdom anyone has…give it to me!

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The return of every guy I’ve ever dated… and a Brit.

I’m just going to cut right to it, last week started off with a bang, Sunday night I got another text from Douchearoo:

“Thank you, just thank you for being so normal.”

I decided not to reply to this one, because really? Is this what he’s going to do every time him and his crazy pants girlfriend get into a fight and she throws stuff at his ugly face, or whatever it is that crazy pants girlfriends do?  I don’t need anyone to remind me that I’m not crazy, but thank you anyway Douchearoo.   I’m sure he feels like a big douche right now, as he should.

Monday, I got a text from Texas…. he’s baaaack, for good. I opted out of hanging out with him last week because I just need time to adjust to the fact that I’m going to have to start drinking during the week and that I might just have to throw in the towel and make out with him.  He seems all right after what I went through this weekend.

Saturday, Betty came for a visit.  We started drinking pretty much the second she arrived.  5 or 6 hours later we made our way downtown to a bar next to a concert hall.

We walk in, grab a seat, and start to suck down drinks when I hear someone walk up behind me and say… “Gizzy?” I turn around to see that it’s Snoop-Linus.  What. The. Fuck.  He pulls up a chair, is wasted and acting like a drunk asshole, pulls out a wad of cash and says, “I’ll take this to the store right now and buy you a ring, I’ll do it, and we’ll go to Vegas tonight.”  Um, good for you but I don’t want to marry you, or talk to you, ever.   But what I really said was, “What kind of asshole walks around with that much cash?  You’re going to get robbed, idiot!” He proceeded to tell me that he was at the bar alone, and was about to attend a concert alone next door, because his phone was dead and he doesn’t know where his friends are.  

Then, he ordered me, Betty, and the 3 old men to his right drinks, then got in a fight with the female bartender that ended in her buying him a drink.  And I was just flabbergasted.  At this point I got up, and said… “Well this has been grand.  Goodbye.”  Walked out of the bar grabbed a cab.  Of course he chased us out asking if he could stay at my place, if I would give him another chance, and if we could just talk in private for a minute.   Now, seriously, what the fuck!?  I couldn’t even say anything, I just got in the cab… there are no words.  

Yesterday I get a text from a number not in my phone saying, “I’m in love with you and never stopped loving you.  I would give you the stars and the moon if I could.”  I replied being all, “Uhh who is this?” and it was Snoop-Linus.  Apparently he lost his dead phone Saturday night and decided to get a new number.   I just can’t even be funny about this because it’s that stupid, what an idiot.

Anyway, after we dipped out on Snoop-Linus, Betty and I came across an underground tavern.  We went in and started playing a game of pool when these two guys in suits came up to us… 

One was engaged, one was not, one was 36, one was 29, one was cute, one was not, one was British, one was not, and they were both professional tennis players.  

That conversation went down like so, “What do you guys do?”… “Well, we’re going to sound like asshole’s, but we’re tennis pros.” Yep, you’re right.  You do sound like assholes.

Since Betty is basically married she took it upon herself to pair me with the 36 year old, not cute, single, british guy… I mean ok, his accent was cool and it was fun to talk to someone who has traveled the world and done cool things that I haven’t.  But pretty much as soon as I started talking to the guy he was saying shit about how we were going to get married.  Which I’m just like, have some tact man.  You’re british, you’re supposed to be classy.  

I mentioned mine and Lucky’s 30th birthday Euro trip, since he is from Europe he had some interesting things to say… he asked where we’d be going and I said, “Well we haven’t really talked about it, but probably some of your standard European countries/cities…. London, Paris, Italy…maybe Greece and Spain?”  Well, being a “pretentious European asshole” (his words not mine) he pretty much had to put his 2 cents in about everything I had to say about it.  “Ugh.. why would you want to go to Greece!”  “Ummm… because it’s beautiful.  That’s why.  I actually would like to honeymoon in the Greek Isles if I can ever meet a guy who isn’t a douche.”  Then he proceeded to tell me that he knows someone with “fabulous summer homes” in each of these countries that we could stay at.  I mean that’s cool, but #1 this trip is 4 years from now and #2 you’re not coming, so thanks for bragging but no thanks.  

The conversation from there on out got a little blurry because I was drinking heavily to avoid all that awkwardness… the next thing I remember him saying is that he’s from Wales and it’s like the West Virginia of England – I was wasted so I just thought that was down right hilarious and started saying, “Prince Harry of West Virginia!” in my finest British accent to everyone in the bar.  

THEN! The other guy’s fiance and her friend bust through the bar doors with massive chips on their shoulder.  With good reason, I guess.  They left and dragged the engaged guy out with them. So Betty, myself, and the Brit were left at the bar to drink.  The next thing I know after that I hear Betty inviting the Brit back to my place.   Which I don’t do.  I’ll hang out with strangers in a bar, but we’re not in college anymore – we can’t just be inviting random guys back to my apartment, but he came anyway.   I offered him a beer, apologized for the fact that I live in a frat house, and got into my pajamas as a hint to him that it was time to go.  He stuck around for a few hours and finally took the hint after I wouldn’t let Betty leave the two of us in the room alone, but not before he could get my number.  

Not 2 seconds after he walked out my front door he texted me, “Would you like to grab a movie or a bite on Monday evening? It was really nice to meet you tonight.”

I didn’t reply.

The next morning I get another text from him, “Morning! If you girls would like to come to the tennis club for breakfast this morning, come on in, it’s on me!” (The tennis place he practices at is like a block from my apartment.  Yay.)

4 hours later I replied, at 2pm.  “Ohh sorry, we just got out of bed.”

“No worries, I am jealous you got to sleep in.  I have been training since 6:30!  Can I call you later?”

I didn’t reply.

Later that night he texts me again, “Hey how was your day?  I’m bloody exhausted.  I was wondering if you’d like to grab a drink on Tuesday night?”

I replied yesterday morning saying, “My day was good, I have plans Tuesday night (lie) but thanks.”

He replied, “How about bowling on Wednesday?”

So I pulled the unthinkable, “I’m actually leaving for a business trip for the next week.” Another lie.  ECK!

So he says, “Safe travels, lets catch up next week.  It would be fun to hang out.”

I know that lying was wrong, but I don’t have it in my heart to tell someone that I’m just flat out not interested.  He’ll get the hint right? Betty was all, why don’t you just hang out with him and tell him it’s just as friends?  Because! Yes I know I am looking for friends, but I am looking for friends that are in my generation..and he’s 36, that’s 10 years older than me and quite honestly it makes me a little uncomfortable to even think about it.   I just came to terms with the fact that I might have to date a guy who is 30, so 36 is like really pushing it. 

Now, before everyone starts calling me an ageist and posting nasty things about me on your own blogs and start commenting saying I should give the guy a chance because love has no age and all that bullshit… Let me just say that this is my life and if I don’t want to get to know an old man I don’t have to and anyone who doesn’t like it can kiss my ass.   I’ll do what I want! Damnit!

Then I got a text from Dina yesterday begging me to come out with her and Sweater Vest next weekend, because “he really wants to see me”.  And I just realized that I’ve never told you about Sweater Vest…

Sigh

I’m tired.

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Beer Me!

You guys totes thought I was getting away without a post today, huh?  No siree!! I was planning on not posting anything because I have nothing to talk about, but then… something happened.

I was sitting at work craving candy bars and cheese fries while twiddling my thumbs when I decided to look at my bank account.   I only get paid once a month and let me tell you, it is ROUGH.  

First, I have to pay all my bills at the beginning of the month and hope I can survive on what’s left.  I also have a percentage of my paycheck automatically moved into my savings account (that I usually end up transferring back into my checking for extras throughout the month like Sunday Funday and that pink 1 shoulder dress JWOWW was wearing on Jersey Shore that I had to order from London :/ ) and if I have nothing left the 3rd week into the month then that’s just life and I’m going to have to eat my finger nails. But this month THIS MONTH I did really well and I had $25 left that I saw today (tomorrow is payday).  So my wheels started turning and I decided to get wings and beer from a restaurant tonight for dinner.

So I picked up my wings after work, bolted through the grocery to get my beer, and got in line behind a hot tall drink of water.  I’m sure at some point he saw my face of disgust that him and the girl infront of him both had their carts full of food and all I had was my beer (and my wings that were getting cold in the car minute by minute while I stood there).  Finally, just before the extreme couponer infront of him was finished checking out, the hottie turned around and said, “Here, you can go infront of me.”  and I was all… “Omg are you sure????” Whilst batting my eyes at him.  And he was like, “Yeah I mean I’ve got a bunch of produce and stuff and all you have is that beer.”  And say, “Oh yeah, well I like my beer! Thanks so much!” As soon as I heard that come out of my mouth I thought to myself, really?! This is why you are single.  I like my beer, you could not sound like more of an alcoholic.

As I’m standing there I’m thinking if I should keep talking to this guy.  Is letting someone cut infront of you at the grocery the same as if someone buys you a drink at a bar? If they buy you a drink you have to stand there and talk to them while you drink it, so if he lets me cut, I need to stand there and talk to him while in line?  I’ve never been in line behind anyone nice enough to let me cut, so I’m a little behind on my line etiquette.  

Anyway, I didn’t keep talking to him, because we’re talking I was at the grocery craving some bud light limes after a long day at my work aka the sub tropics, my makeup was all over my face, my hair was all crazy pants, and frankly I just looked a lot like this: 

Minus the maid outfit? But, I think not talking to him was helping my case a lot more than talking to him would have.  If he would’ve asked where I was off to with my case of beer and I told him my bed to watch Sex and the City reruns, he might have thought I was a loser.  

So does anyone have any grocery line etiquette tips for me in case this happens again?  Next time I need to be more prepared and powder my nose before beer shopping.  This was a good opportunity to meet a total stranger and I missed it! RATS!

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Some people really are destined to be…alone.

One night, (I believe it was super bowl Sunday) Lucky and I had a long talk about how we are awkward and a-social, and how we genuinely feel there’s no one out there waiting for us.  This conversation was prompted by #1 my drugs and #2 the fact that it was Snoop-Linus’ birthday, I sent him a Happy Birthday text, and heard nothing back for almost 24 hours.  I was starting to get the feeling that I should just suck up all of Snoop-Linus’ bad habits and cheating ways and be with him, I texted Lucky for a reality check, but when it comes to the two of us we can quickly bring the other one down too, as I did with Lucky that very night.

Anyway, the point of this story is that I don’t know how to talk to people, and I’m afraid it has me doomed to be a lonely old maid or to be with what I know, someone who treats me like shit. I won’t lie, Snoop-Linus finally texted back, we got into an argument, I said some things he said some things, it was ok for a few days, and now it’s back to awful.  If I can’t even get my cheating ex-boyfriend to give me any attention, how in the EFF am I supposed to get it from a nice guy?

It’s not just men that I feel like I can’t communicate with, it’s women too.  Like I can’t even make conversation good enough/act interested enough in peoples lame stories slash lives to get a decent group of girlfriends.  It all just seems so exhausting, and that is pretty much the same way I feel about dating.  Hearing the backstory of every ex-boyfriend/girlfriend and lame friend they’ve had that got them where they are today wears me out.  I mean that’s a lot of talking, and frankly if someone wants to put it all out there I’ll put my face into a pitcher of beer and listen.  But, they better not expect me to reciprocate the stories, because if that’s the case we’re going to need something a lot stronger than beer.  And by that I mean tranquilizers and a therapist.

Of course, I have my current friends who I will listen to/whine to about my problems all day long, but that’s because I already know their stories, I know the people in the stories, and I feel comfortable giving/asking for advice.  But when you meet someone new and they are telling you all of these stories where they’re all, “Oh and THEN John drug me behind his car and left me in a dumpster for dead.” And when I say, “Oh thank god you got rid of him!” And in walks said John with their 3 kids and malshi-poo, I’m the asshole.  So unacceptable.

So here I am, 1 month in to what was supposed to be the greatest decision/fresh start of my life and I’m pretty miserable. Not because I live in the laundry room of a frat house and have curtains for walls, but because I’m too lazy to make friends or find any kind of romantic life for myself.   Even Anth doesn’t want to hang out with me anymore because I’m gross and lately have been coughing things up.  I can’t help it, I’m sick.  So now I don’t know what to do.  For the time being I’m blaming it on the -10 degree weather and the fact that I’m still “adjusting.”  But I can only use these excuses for so long until I have to suck it up and face reality: that I’m probably doomed to be alone forever.  And just in the knick of time for Valentines Day (black holiday, as you will hear it commonly referred to by Lucky and myself.)

Speaking of Valentines day, I realized yesterday that I’m in the same, slightly modified, boat that I was last year.  Last year at Valentines Day I was figuring things out with Snoop-Linus after he had cheated on me a few weeks earlier, and when it came to V-Day weekend he ignored me because I asked him to come home with me to see one of my best friends who was in from out of town.  He said no because that would cut down on drinking time with his friends.  I went alone and stayed at home for the weekend and asked my 6 year old sister to be my Valentine.  She was the best Valentine I could’ve ever asked for, I bought her a Bratz doll and she got me candy and we watched movies all day.  Of course, as soon as I woke up on actual V-day last year (which was a Sunday if you all recall) when the drinking had commenced Snoop-Linus was asking me to dinner for that night because, “There’s no one he’d rather spend Valentines day with,” I don’t think I ever got an apology for being treated like shit and ignored all weekend; I just got a dinner, that I should’ve rejected.

So, in the memory of traditions I’m asking my little sister to be my Valentine again this year.  I’m going to drive my happy ass home tonight after work to play barbies and watch cartoons all weekend, and I couldn’t be happier about that decision.  If I ever find a guy who is OK with watching Disney movies and drinking chocolate milk with my sister and I on said black holiday, he might be in the running as a decent boyfriend.  This is all Neal Bledsoe’s fault.  We could be together right now.

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Just when you think you know your best friend…

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!

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