Tag Archives: holiday

Getting closer…

I know just the other day I was saying the holidays have got me a little down, but I’m starting to get excited. YAY!

I did put up a tree—a nice and tall, 8 footer—bought some stockings and holiday plates. My mom is traveling the 15 hours to visit me. It will be the first Christmas morning we’ve spent together in 10 years, and I’m really just a kid looking forward to seeing her mom. Truthfully, if she wasn’t coming, I totally was planning on not putting up a tree, pulling a John Grisham and just skipping the holiday altogether.

But there is one thing about Christmas that bothers me. It’s this:

Is it just me or is that commercial so fucking awkward??? I seriously have to change the channel when I see the opening scene. Like… they aren’t acting like they’re brother and sister. They act like they want to do each other and it freaks me out.

I thought I was the only one who felt this way, and then I saw this RECUT.

And just to kick it up a notch, there was this:

My thoughts exactly. Anyone got any funny or super depressing holiday commercials to share?

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See ya next year, Santa!

Happy day after Christmas, kids!

I hope none of you have to be at work today—I sure don’t. However, I did get up at 8 and hit the gym…and I worked out so hard I wanted to barf afterward. Then, I came home and took a shower and here I am, back in my pajamas, typing away.

Did everyone get everything they asked for this year?

I can’t speak for Gizzy (although she seemed pretty excited about one gift in particular), but I think we both had a really good holiday. I got a fresh stack of books, along with season 5 of Dexter. It’s become a tradition of mine now to ask for a season of Dexter for Christmas, then spend my winter break on the couch watching it.

This will be the 3rd year I’ve done it, only the other 2 years I’ve had TWO seasons to watch…damn season six isn’t out yet!

I didn’t get everything from my grown up Christmas list, however. But, Gizzy was sweet enough to mail me a hot ass picture of Max, so I came pretty freaking close to getting him for Christmas, right?

So, let’s hear it, what did you get under the tree this year? Or better yet…what gifts are you returning today?!

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The night I FINALLY hung out with HIGH SCHOOL CRUSH… Part 2!

So the night with High School Crush continues… Last time on “I can’t believe this is my effing life right now!”: High School Crush might like me, because he wants to hang some more.

We made our way through the crowd to bar #2 – you know I had to do the classic grab on to his arm dealio to make sure we didn’t get separated.  At one point I thought we might hold hands, but then I realized we aren’t 14 anymore and I shouldn’t let teenage Gizzy’s dreams get the best of me.  Because goddamnit, that little brat got all the action!  I could only imagine the kind of scrutiny I’d get from all my friends (especially Lucky) if I reported back that I made my move and we just sat around and held hands all night.  Because that’s what I did with my boyfriend in middle school.  We didn’t talk, we just held hands and it was like OMG – did you see us holding hands for like 5 hours? Our hand sweat totally made sweat babies up in there.

Anywayzzzz…we got to bar #2 and HSC bought us all drinks and we basically started sharing our life stories.  Honestly I can’t even remember what all we talked about, I just know neither of us would shut up.  Alcohol is the best invention EVER.  At one point I was telling him about how I’m over the big city and I need to find a place that doesn’t have a babillion people runnin’ round.  And he was all oh where are you going to look – so I named off a few cities, including the one he lives in.  He freaked out being all omg yes you have to move to my city, that’s the only option, don’t even waste your time with the other places.  I do like the city that he lives in, but really him and my high school ex boyfriend are the only people I know that live there, so that would be weird.  And I’m only gonna move there if we can get married or if Lucky moves with me.  It’s kind of a crap shoot on if anything would even happen if we lived in the same city, unless we started dating and did the long distance thing for a while.  I wouldn’t even feel totally comfortable moving there right now and relying on him to just be a friend to hang out with.  Who knows what he’s got going on in that zip code.

Finally his friend got a word in and made us all start reminiscing about high school.  Which made me really nervous.  Like I thought I might vom, in my head I just kept thinking, Please do not mention the time I threw up on you, please do not mention the time I threw up on you. And he didn’t.  Instead they questioned me about Lucky hooking up with one of their friends in high school.  HAHA.  It’s honestly mine and Lucky’s favorite story because it was the closet freak and we’re like yeah he’s all talk and Lucky was all, “Shit man, I’m gonna do it.  Take me over there.”  So I did, and they hooked up on the side of his house, while I circled the block, and it is by far the funniest thing that ever happened.

About this time Betty asks HSC where he’s staying, he said he didn’t know yet but probably with his friend or closet freak.  Then she leans forward over me and whispers into his ear, “We’re going to be leaving within the hour, if you want to come back with her that’s fine, it’s your decision.”  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! I acted like I didn’t hear what she said because I didn’t want any part in it.  I’m sorry, but we are 26 years old – I don’t need you to invite guys home for me.  And secondly, if we wanted to hook up we sure as hell wouldn’t be going back to do it in your daughter’s midget bunk bed. 

So I looked at his friend and then his friend says to me, “So Betty said you wanted to come here because your ex was here?” I thought I was going to kill her.  I played it off an was like, “Whaaaat? Who?” and he was like, “Oh maybe not.” But I do recall when Betty said she wanted to go to bar #2 I said to her, “You know who we’ll probably see there? Douchearoo, that’s like his spot.” And she was all for it because she thought he would buy us drinks, and I’m like no I don’t even want to talk to him.  Seriously, Betty can never be around a guy I like ever again.  Next year I’ll go to the party alone if I have to.

Anyway, HSC and I chatted for a few more then Betty said they were going to get the car.  They’d circle around and if I wanted to come back with them I should come out when they pulled up.  There was really no question – I told her I was coming back with them and not to leave me. She said if I didn’t come out she was assuming that HSC and I were going somewhere.  So the fact that she would just leave me there is really reassuring, what a great friend.  Again, we are not in college, we are not 19, and at this point if something happens between high school crush and I it’s probably going to be the start of a legitimate relationship, I don’t think either of us are really looking for a hump and dump.  So step off!

I said my goodbyes to the friend and told HSC I had to go, and he honest to god had a really disappointing look on his face.  I mean, we still had 30 minutes before the bar closed so I was upset about it too, but what can ya do?  Then, we hugged and had one of those moments where you’re like, do we kiss? Is this weird? We just stood there at looked each other, it felt like it was about 6 hours even though it was probably only like 5 seconds. 

Just as I was about to walk away HSC grabbed my arm and was like, “Hey what are you doing tomorrow? Do you wanna get some food and watch the games?” Uhhh yeah I do! So I said yes and left.

Not 5 minutes after I left he was already texting me about how he was excited to hang out the next day. 

….To be continued! Part 3 coming Tuesday! – I’m so lame.

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To Gizzy’s house: part IV.

Ah, when we awoke the next morning it was the glorious 4th of July. AMERICA! ‘MERICA! As we proudly proclaimed all day long.

But my mood quickly changed from happy and celebratory to confused, and, well…more confused.

After we passed out the night before, Clay had sent me a text around 3 am wanting to know what I was doing. Since I was sleeping, I didn’t respond. Then at 9 am, he sent me a good morning text.

While I was reading the “good morning” text and sifting through some others, he sent me ANOTHER text saying this:

“U don’t have to ignore me you know. Asshole. Thats hypocritical of me sorry I was a dick but ur gender has yet to prove other than a vagina ur existence is not necessary. OK that was mean I’m sorry u r extremely attractive and I really have not stopped thinking about u can we try this again”

If you’re wondering, yes, that was all crammed into one text message and yet another example of Clay having a legit conversation by himself. Nothing like calling me an asshole and a member of a worthless gender and then wanting to meet up.  Picture me, cackling through this all. 

I replied back with a solid “well, good morning.” We had a weird conversation about how I wasn’t ignoring him per se I was just wary of getting involved with him because he had a girlfriend. To which he said…

UMM YOU NEED TO CHECK MY FACEBOOK.

Okay, douche, I don’t check Facebook every fucking day to see if you and your woman are together or not. Frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck.

Anyway, the dude was drunk, so Gizzy and I check Facebook to see what exactly happened. And this is the slew of Facebook statuses we see:

Ok I refuse to be with a whore, I am single, so ladies lets have fun.  I have only 3 weeks left lets do the damn thing and stop thinking about tomorrow.

I hate my life, and the stupid bitch that told me I was everything to her, that’s bullshit, where is she tonight? Not with me.  I hope your aborted children provide you with a supportive landing in hell.

Happy 4th LOL

Clay is going to establish alcoholism today being as my first beer was pounded at 8:39 you’re welcome now who will join me in celebrating our country’s birthday?

If whites only come out at night why do I drink during the day?

If whores only come out at night why do I drink during the day?

  • Comment: Jackie – are you drunk?
  • Comment: Clay – if you’re wondering if I’m drinking, yes, and if I’m drunk, yes, but if you say it like that it sounds uneducated.  All I’m doing is flushing my kidneys and destroying my liver if I could put this shit in an IV I would, because it would save me the time of putting my beer to my mouth and allow me to come up with awesome status updates even faster.
  • Comment: Jackie – I would’ve asked how you’ve been but it’s pretty clear.
  • Comment: Clay – it’s clear that your gender has castrated me for the last time, and I am no longer obligated to believe you thundercunts are nice people.  So why would I? Assholes finish first right? Fuck the world, I’m about to kick it down the escalator.

Whores are like fireworks, you only shoot them at night and yet at first they look innocent but after a few shots they explode on you causing pain if not careful.

  • Comment: Clay – happy 4th retards
  • Comment: friend – you’re on a roll today
  • Comment: Clay – give me some butter
  • Comment: Barb – clay be good
  • Comment: Clay- if by good you mean break the female gender down by targeting her weakest attribute and convincing her to sleep with me because she is emotionally unstable then yes I will be good and good at it.  Sorry miss lady you are excluded from this list because you have always been awesome to me and to everyone else love you so much.

 I was once told to be good or good at it.  Happy 4th retards.

When I asked Clay what happened with his ex to make him so upset he said, “She’s a cock juggling thundercunt.” Another AWESOME line that worked itself into our vocabulary the rest of the day.

Fair enough.

To celebrate such a glorious holiday, Gizzy and I put on our swimsuits and headed out looking for beer and anything festive. ‘MERICA! Well, we didn’t find anything festive, but we got the beer and some ice and packed them both into what Gizzy thought was a cooler, when it was really a large thermal container made for a damn crock pot.  Don’t knock it till you try it, that shit worked!

Whatever. We head to the beach and get in line for some junk food. After we scarf that down, we find a nice spot in the sand near plenty of hotties playing beach volleyball.  Hotties/douchers that I already knew from college.

We had already packed some vodka, so Gizzy got us some mixers and we had our way with them. And this is when I start trying to figure out just how many different places I can piss in public (twice in the water, once in the sand, and a few times in actual public view). “Public view” means hanging her ass off a dock to pee, and hanging it off of some steps/seats.  Someone had to know what was going on since I was doubled over laughing and every time she got up there were wet spots that magically appeared on the cement.  I’m not innocent though, the day of the block party we traveled through a maze so that I could take a pee in a parking garage, where our car was not parked.

When I was finished with my vodka, I started drinking the beer like it was my job. Didn’t want to have any leftovers! When the beer was gone, we made the weird decision to walk to where the fireworks were…which was a bit of a hike. I would venture to say at least 1.5-2 miles.  It took us a good hour and a half to get there, longer than it normally would have because we had to simultaneously stop to pee/take shots.  We completely got ready in a public bathroom and then start ripping shots straight from a bottle of vodka.  In public.  Infront of cops, and children.

We see the fireworks and keep walking to try and snag some dinner. However, there was a fuckload of people. Like literally people were shoving us trying to not let us in because they were all coming out. And then we ran into a saucy hostess who told us the restaurant closed at 10 pm and I accused her of calling us retards.  My absolute favorite convo of the weekend:

Us: Table for 2

Hostess:  Um we’re pretty full, we’re not seating anyone but you can stand here and wait, I’m not sure if we’re letting people in, we might stay open later.

Lucky: So ARE you staying open later?

Hostess: We’re not seating anyone right now

Lucky: Yeah, I heard you, we’re not retards

Hostess: I didn’t say you were

Lucky: Uh! Yeah, ya did!

Bitch.  So we head to a nice little italian place, and order our food and some vino.

Once we do sit down, we have some depressing conversation about missing people, (and I loudly shit talked the aliens next to us for staring at our drunk asses)  and we manage to catch a cab ride back home. However, the cab ride was nice and bumpy, and me being quite wasted, I knew I needed to barf. But it wasn’t anything emergency-related…I figured I had plenty of time. However, when I hand the cabbie my credit card, he says he has to turn the car off completely and restart everything.  Honest to god, it took half an hour.

I told him I needed to step outside and puke. And I did. On a tree. While people and dogs watched me.

But I felt worlds better.

Then Gizzy and I ran inside and busted into Anth’s room, only to find him sexting while in his bed. Typical.  Lucky asks if he’s naked and runs over and rips off the blankets.  I immediately scream, “DID YOU SEE HIS WEINER!?” she says no and we run squeeling out of his room.  He sent me a text the following morning thanking us for the wake up call and thanking himself that he wasn’t actually naked under his covers.  I told him that leaving the door unlocked is like inviting us into his room so idk what he expected.

The next morning was my last in town, and given all the airport drama the first go ’round, I wasn’t looking forward to heading back. However, Gizzy and I hit a few hot spots I had been wanting to see, we had a few beers and more junk food and we were on our way. We even ate lunch at our favorite place—Taco Bell. Holla!

Overall, an AWESOME visit!

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To Gizzy’s house: part III.

When we woke up the next morning (4th of July Eve), we were nice and hungover.

But that didn’t stop us from our original plans—hitting up the beach. so we put on our swimsuits and headed that way. Parking seemed to be an issue, so we ended up on the other side of the beach, but we found a little restaurant, and as long as they have Bloodys, it’s all good.  They even had little palm trees and Jamaican aluminum bongo music.  I felt like I was in the tropics.  Ahhh vacation.

Well they didn’t have bloodys. Or any alcohol. Why? Because the bartender was late to work. And HE is the only one who can make a drink, pour it, whatever.  I asked about our server pouring us a draft beer.  I know he can do it, because to bring us that beer he has to have a liquor license… that means he can effing pour it too.   He said no he couldn’t, because they’re on the beach there’s weird laws.  Lies.

Christ.

Thank the high heavens he showed up to work shortly, because I was cranky.  When Lucky got her bloody she was able to precisely pin point the kind of Bloody mix they were using, it was not her fave.

As we waited, I was watching this lady across the restaurant who was eating an egg white omelet with fruit with a fork and knife. It was really pissing me off.  Only after it took her 35 minutes to take the first bite.

Anyway, after lunch, we wanted to catch a baseball game. So we got ready, and start trying to get a cab. Which doesn’t work until after we’d walked a good 15 blocks.

Once we get to the game, we find that it’s sold out and it’s already the 4th inning, so there are no scalpers.

Effin sweet! It seemed like nothing was going our way that day. Now that I look back, I should have insisted that we have a drink in one of the bars around the sadium, during the game the bars are almost just as fun as actually being there. But we were pissed.  I had heard about a block party going on, so we got back in the cab and headed that way. I prayed this would work out and at least we’d get a few beers.

And it was a success—the place was packed, but there was tons of food, beer, music, and free prizes—including Disney temporary tats that were freakin’ cool.  Not to mention we made a few friends and got a free cheese burger – which was… DA BOMB.  Hello 2002.

So we stay at this place until 6 or so, and we head toward the train station to catch a ride back. However, we find a cool little bar near the station and decide to continue our beer buzz with a round of brews and shots. I would say everyone has probably been to or seen the bar we stopped at.  Does The Tilted Kilt ring a bell to anyone?  Sometimes you can get lucky and you won’t have to look at a bunch of flubby nasty girls.  I mean neither Lucky or myself are into girls but if they’re going to be prancing around in their bra and underwear they can at least not make us want to hurl.  Anyway, this place had nasty fat tatted up girls.  Ugh.  So when we’re downtown near the financial district you can imagine that most of the guys aren’t looking for fat hedge hogs so idk what the deal was.

After that, we manage to get our drunk selves a seat on the train.

We get home, the guys are there, making all kinds of food on the grill, (supposively Anth made us hot dogs and we ate them??) but we then decide it’s absolutely necessary to put on the Disney tats, tramp-stamp style. So I put Gizzy’s on for her (all of the main Disney characters, holding hands) and she put mine on (pirates!).

Here’s mine: Best tat EVER!

We then joined the guys on the roof for some drinking games, a roast to the bachelor, and some AMAZING fireworks from a random person in the alley!

The fireworks were complete with floating lanterns JUST LIKE in Tangled.  I think I kept saying that every time they let another one go.  I don’t know how I have friends over the age of 6, I don’t know.

We mosied back down to the kitchen because I was craving some Cherry Garcia.  At this moment the bachelor and an old flame of mine who was in attendance, who is ALSO engaged wander into the room.  Some how it gets brought up that I didn’t get invited to either of their weddings, Lucky makes them feel like shit about it and tells them their wives must be insecure and they say because it’s because I’m attractive and it would make the bride feel bad or some bullshit.  I don’t know, it’s whatever.  That’s an argument/story for another day.

When this convo begins to fizzle another one of the guys from the party joins us.  A guy who Lucky and I had already written off because he was a big douche.  His name was Bill, he was the quarterback at our college, and he didn’t shower or change his clothes all weekend and Lucky and I told him he smelled.  He rebuttled by asking us to come out with them to which one of us made a snide remark saying we wouldn’t be caught dead near him and he basically called us ugly fat whores by saying, “Anyone who knows me would know as soon as they saw you two that you guys are NOT my type.”  Oh really? Well thin, cute, and funny must not be your type then, ass.

Later, more of the guys said they wanted to go out and we should join them. After a few minutes of persuasion, we bolt to Gizzy’s room, change clothes, and what? The guys are gone.

Lucky, remember when I called Anth and he didn’t answer?  He later told me that he was still at the apartment in his room changing.  Apparently he was left too and never went out.  I think it’s a good thing we didn’t go out with the 4 guys that actually went out.  Yikes.

Oh well, we walk down the street to a bar. There were all of five people inside, but the second we sit down, this chick comes up and introduces herself—meet Miranda. She has a boyfriend, but also a single guy in tow…yeah, he was kind of a loser.  I got her number, we were supposed to be friends because I have none and she was going to introduce me to all her single male friends, still hasn’t happened.  I don’t even think I could recognize her the beer goggles were so thick.

Anyway, she used her boyfriend’s credit card to buy us a round of shots, and Gizzy and I damn near slept on the bar. It was then we realized we’d been walking around (and drinking) since we woke up that morning. Miranda definitely thought we were lame, especially when we turned down her offer to late night when the bartender called last call.  I was tempted, because I think they said something about playing board games.  And I love board games, but in the adult world board games probably means snort crack so it’s probably good we didn’t go.

So, we walk back to Gizzy’s…

TO BE CONTINUED…

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Q is for the Christmas Queen…or QVC.

It’s no surprise that the holiday season has brought an even greater bitterness upon Gizzy and I. But, here it is, Christmas Eve, and I’m finally getting into the holiday spirit after many nights of drinking and watching Christmas Vacation.

Today, I wanted to acknowledge two things that have really kept me alive this Christmas season (besides the alcohol and Chevy Chase).

1. The Christmas Queen

And no, I’m not talking about Lucy. See:

Charlie Brown: There’s no time for foolishness. We’ve got to get on with our play!
Lucy: That’s right! What about my part? What about the Christmas Queen, hmm? Are you going to let all this beauty go to waste? You do think I’m beautiful, don’t you, Charlie Brown? (no response) You didn’t answer right away. You had to think about it first, didn’t you? If you really thought I was beautiful, you would have spoken right up. (storms off) I know when I’ve been insulted! I know when I’ve been insulted!
Charlie Brown: Good grief.

I’m talking about Mariah Carey. Gizzy completely disagrees. Do I love Mariah Carey? No. Do I understand why and how Mariah Carey is so popular amongst blacks? Absolutely not. Do I want to do Nick Cannon? Hell no. Do her Christmas jingles get stuck in my head to the point of no return? YES.

I would be lying if I said I never danced around my kitchen, snapping my fingers to this little ditty:

To be honest, I think I want to BE Mariah Carey (that is, if I couldn’t be Kim Zolsiak). Who doesn’t remember the episode of MTV Cribs, where we got to see her house that was effin amazing. Oh and the view she has of New York City? To die for! Then she casually mentions that on the night of her CD release, the empire state building was lighting up a special magenta to honor the event.

How’s that for funsies? Like oh yeah, the Eiffel Tower is just going to blast off L-U-C-K-Y fireworks one night to celebrate the fact that I’ve got a new zit on my chin.

Like I said, I don’t want to fuck Nick Cannon, nor carry his twin babies, but sure I’ll take her hizzie and sell a line of perfumes to every tweenie bopper in urban America. And I’ll even take the lil bout of crazy she had that afternoon she dropped by TRL—we all get a lil Wild ‘N Out from time to time (see how that works?).

2. QVC

I’ve mentioned it before that I enjoy watching QVC, but I’ve never ordered anything from it. I know, it’s really strange. But this is one of the many perks of being single (I do what I want because I’m a gangsta, Miss Katie).

I started watching QVC last Christmas season for whatever reason, there was probably nothing else on or something. And I got hooked. Then I stopped watching it for awhile, and now it’s back in full swing…I watch it all. the. time.

I love host Lisa Robertson. Former Miss Tennessee. She just seems cool. Other than that, I can’t pinpoint what it is that I like about QVC. I think it’s the fact that there’s no commercials, no drama, no one’s getting married or talking about weddings or children, everything is just perfect.

One night last week, I came home from work, ready for an evening of overpriced CZs and sequined tunics, plopped down in my chair, and saw something I’d never seen on QVC before: real emotion.

Tears of sadness.

Host Lisa Mason was apparently leaving the network, and that segment was her last. However, since I was unaware of this, I was shocked when she was simply selling a string of pearls, and then someone called in and she started crying. Like an ugly girl.

And then her coworkers wheeled out this huge ass sheet cake that said goodbye and Lisa was still crying and saying God bless you, and someone came out with roses.

Finally, she said that she was leaving to pursue other things—meaning she wrote a book about God (no, seriously she did).

But anyway, check out this homage to Lisa Robertson (not Mason) someone made:

Thankfully, I’m on a nice break from work—they let us leave at lunch on Wednesday and I don’t go back until January 3. Hells yeah. Wednesday, I was in the worst mood, I just wanted to go home and sleep. So I did, when I was rudely awakened by a call from my leasing office.

“Lucky, you have a delivery.”

Wtf? I’ve already received gifts from my family and wasn’t expecting anything else. So I got my lazy ass out of bed and went to the office. The lady said there was no package for me.

“Okay, well then why did you just call me and wake me up for this shit?”

“Oh, YOU’RE LUCKY?!?”

“In the flesh.”

“You didn’t get a package, you got FLOWERS. Sorry, I was trying to keep them on my desk and pretend they were mine.”

It wasn’t some meager collection of greenery. This was legit:

There it is on my dining table. Who in the hell got me flowers? My mom? My aunt? Ummm no…a man. A man that I’ve only met once, only been texting with, never even kissed him.

I mentioned Tuesday night that I was a little bummed I wouldn’t be around my family for the holidays. He promptly called a mutual friend, got my address, and placed the order for the flowers. He lives 5 hours away, mind you.

Needless to say, I am impressed. No one has ever done something so sweet! Especially just for nothing. Somehow, it passed Gizzy’s test (she has so many, you know).

So with that, my Christmas is a bit brighter. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be getting shit-housed tomorrow. Pass the peppermint shot glasses!

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