Tag Archives: party

I carbed out… sowwwy!

If anyone was keeping track you might have guessed that my 30 day paleo challenge is over and I have been busy stuffing my face with all the carbs in sight, so I haven’t had time to blog plus my hands were dirty with donut jelly. Ain’t nobody got time to be havin’ sticky keys cause they dint wash they hands. Ya feels me!? 

So I was looking through some photos on my phone so that I could post pictures of my favorite paleo recipes, when I found this:


That my friends is a selfie of me smelling flowers at a bar on a Saturday night. Flowers that weren’t even mine, mind you. Remember how pissed I was that Gigi got what I thought should have been my flowers? This is them, and now I understand why he gave them to her instead of me. This is the kind of thing you can look forward to now that I’m back on the booze train.

Anyway, here is one of my favorite recipes that I tried during the challenge.  This one I found on paleoplan.com

Garlic chicken, red pepper, and mushroom sauce on a bed of asparagus 



  • 1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts, diced
  • 2 Tbs olive oil, divided
  • 1/2 tsp sea salt (optional)
  • 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
  • 1/2 tsp chili powder
  • 1 clove garlic, minced
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 8-10 white button or cremini mushrooms, sliced
  • 2 red bell peppers, sliced
  • 1/3 cup coconut milk


  1. Marinate chicken in 1 Tbs olive oil, sea salt (optional), black pepper, chili powder and garlic. Refrigerate for 1 hour.
  2. Shortly before meal time, heat 2 medium skillets over medium-high heat.
  3. In one, saute marinated chicken until browned and almost fully cooked.
  4. Heat 1 Tbs olive (or coconut) oil in the other skillet. Add onion and saute for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add mushrooms and continue to cook until tender.
  5. Add red pepper, coconut milk and browned chicken and stir. Cook for an additional 5-10 minutes, or until the chicken is completely done.

I made mine into a smaller portion and loaded it on top of some boiled asparagus annnnd it was delicious! Now, please excuse me while I help myself to a package of E.L. Fudge cookies. NOM!

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Country Drama (Part 1)

Over the weekend I went to a bachelorette party in Nasvhille, Tennessee.  I’ve been there a handful of times and Nashville never disappoints, so I had high expectations for the weekend.  The only problem I could foresee was that Betty was going because she can be lot of anxiety and some drama.  

When the emails about the weekend started swirling and the MOH was getting deep into planning, Betty who has been to Nashville several times offered her assistance since she apparently knew where all the cool places were.  The MOH respectfully declined her help and said she would take care of everything.  Betty is kind of a control freak so I expected her to start having anxiety/panic attacks over the whole trip when she didn’t know/plan every last detail. I was also worried that when we actually went out, if people didn’t want to do what she wanted to do she would leave the group and expect me to go with her, which I knew I wouldn’t leave the group, but it would probably be more drama from Betty.  And that pretty much happened.

A few weeks before the party the MOH sent out an email saying she had rented a house because there were so many of us and all the hotels were booked up for some convention.  The house was 5 or 6 miles from downtown so she had also rented us a party bus to take us wherever we needed to go – the whole weekend excluding food and drinks was going to cost us $150.  To me, that sounded pretty awesome, I hate taking cabs and we’d be able to drink in the bus/leave whatever we didn’t want to take to the bar in the bus and have a ride wherever we needed to go.  Betty started complaining that she thought $150 was a lot and the house was really far from the strip, which I just ignored because whatever, if you don’t want to pay it then don’t go.  Then she came up with some idea that her and I should stay with a guy friend from high school, he lives close to the strip and would drop us off and pick us up and then we wouldn’t have to pay the money.  Um, no.  I told her she could do what she wanted, but I was staying with the group.  As soon as she realized I wasn’t going to do that, she dropped it.

The following week the MOH sent out another email saying she had everything booked, but the house only slept 7 and since there were 10 of us, she needed 3 people to volunteer to bring air mattresses.  This is when the freak out really started.  Betty then said that if she was going to have to sleep on an air mattress she wasn’t paying full price.  At first I just tried to calm her down, explaining that 3 out of 10 people had to sleep on air mattresses, and no where in the email did it say she had to be one of them.

A few days later she asked me if I was going to reply to the email.  Which I explained that I wasn’t, because while I do have an air mattress, it’s a piece of shit hand pump one and I sure as hell wasn’t pumping that thing up at 3am when I’m drunk as piss, so I wasn’t planning on bringing it.  To add to it, the planning for this weekend started well over 2 months ago, and when it started the MOH told us all to be sure to take Friday off work, Betty didn’t take the day off  so I automatically was expected to wait for her to get off work before flying out, which also meant everyone else got there a solid 4-5 hours before us.  Of course I wasn’t happy that I had to wait on her, but what could I do? Since we were going to be so late and the last to arrive I expected we would be sleeping on the air mattresses, but I never said anything to Betty for obvious reasons.  I honestly could have cared less though, we were going to be drunk as shit and I would have preferred sleeping on an air mattress alone to sharing a bed with someone anyway.

A few more days went by and Betty started getting anxiety that no one had replied about bringing air mattresses.  Betty said she was going to reply and ask how we would get into the house if they were gone already when we got there and would say we would bring my air mattress but it’s jank and no one would want to sleep on it.  At this point I started to get pissed, like why was this still an issue? She wasn’t planning the weekend, so I told her if no one volunteered to bring them, then the MOH could figure it out – it’s not our problem. But she didn’t, she kept saying she was going to reply until I finally said you know what, if you reply saying we’re bringing an air mattress I guaran-fucking-tee you will be sleeping on it, so if you don’t want to sleep on it don’t say anything. Also, it’s not your air mattress to offer, it’s mine and I already said I wasn’t bringing it, so that’s the end of it. Of course, as the weekend got closer 5 other people volunteered to bring air mattresses and it was no longer an issue.

The day of the trip arrived and I was not at all excited because of all of the stress leading up to it…

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What’s the sit-u-ation?

Sigh. Monday. The first full week of work since the holidays—I’m sure it’s going to be a bitch.

However, if you remember correctly, tonight is a MAJOR TV night & I am pretty stoked on that. We have 2 hours of The Bachelor (complete with Tweets from yours truly @Cocktailsattiff) followed by an hour of Teen Mom and then a glorious new episode of Catfish.

Omg I cannot wait. And yes, I realize how big of a loser this makes me.

The weekend however, was a good one. I have lots to tell you all, which will probably take all week, but I’ll start now.

Saturday night, Marcy and I jumped in the car to head across town for a house party. I don’t know who really has house parties anymore, but here we were going to one. Whatever. Neither of us were particularly stoked on going, but we said we would, and we both agreed to have two beers, make the rounds, and then bolt because we are cool like that.

About two blocks from my apartment, I see a few cop cars with their lights on, not pulling people over, but holding the traffic lights. I also notice lots of people walking beside the street. It was only 7:30, so I was pretty confused.

When we drove to the next light, there were about 6 cop cars, same scene. They were directing traffic away from the mall—where the parking lot was empty and the lights were off. Um, what? So we started Googling and see that apparently there was a massive fight at the mall, involving hundreds of people, followed by a stampede and uber panicking.

When we got to the party, a girl there said she was actually at the mall and heard gun shots. WHAT?

Anyway, the party was packed with people from the gym, including that trainer I used to see, and that was awkward, not because of him and me, but because he is such a tool, and everyone constantly talks about how he is weird and a loser. Yeah, thanks.

A few weeks ago I met this guy at the gym, TAZ, who used to be a professional football player, and is big and black, and pretty freaking hot. According to our mutual friend, M, TAZ thinks I am hot, however acts super shy around me. Standard.

TAZ arrived at the party and makes himself a vodka cocktail and is all, “Hey we met a few weeks ago…” yadda yadda, and he was wearing a massive gold watch, large diamond earrings, and two large football rings. Hmm.

I told Marcy I thought he was hot. She agreed.

“I like your watch,” I told him.

“I like your butt,” he said.


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Nice Guy’s fave NYE cliches!

Nice Guy is baaaack, which is a good thing since I hate NYE… so here you all go!

*   *   *

Every year December 31st is the most anticipated night that, as we get older, holds the greatest potential to be an epic letdown.


Happy New Year’s Eve!


Tonight is the night we put 364 days behind us and projections are made for the next 365 to come. On this night we hold on tight to traditions; traditions that rarely change from year to year but we expect the results of the following year to be different. You what else has a definition like that? Insanity.


So, here are my Top Ten Insane New Year’s Eve Traditions!


10.) Singing ‘Auld Lang Syne’: Seriously, how many of us know the words? How many of us actually know what the meaning of the song is (without Googling it)? However, I’m a sentimentalist and therefore I had to put this at 10 because it does date back to the 1700’s. Respect.


9.) Counting down, out loud, to midnight: If you’re in a situation where you won’t look ridiculous doing this (because you’re alone), then you’ve probably had enough to drink that you probably wouldn’t be able to pass the sobriety test administered when you get pulled over driving home later on. *we do not condone drinking and driving. Be smart. Be safe. “The more you know.”*


8.) Limos: I’ll only really concede to this if your driver’s name is Ranjit and you have a ‘Get Psyched’ mix CD to get everyone ready to party. Otherwise, just save your money and use regular means of public transportation is necessary.


7.) Father Time/Baby New Year costumes/photos: Just…don’t.


6.) Toasts: This may be fine in a small, intimate setting with close friends and loved ones. If you’re out and about at a public party no one wants to hear you being all sentimental about the last year. It’s like trying to sing a love ballad (or almost any slow song) at a karaoke night. People want to ROCK, not think about a love once lost. Speaking of being out in the world…


5.) Public New Year’s Eve menus and parties: Strange phrasing, I know but hear me out. Restaurants, clubs and bars all have these big end-of-the-year blow out parties and specials. Want to know what’s so special about them? You’ll be paying close to 30-50% more for it. Cover charges at the door that used to be $5 are not $20. “Special” dinner items are $50 a plate, when on any other night are part of a 2 for $20 entree deal.


4.) Staying up until midnight: You know what? I’m old…ish. If I’m tired, I want to sleep. If I happen to get tired on New Year’s Eve, I’ll still probably want to sleep. It’ll still be the new year when I wake up.


3.) Champagne/ungodly amounts of booze: I love champagne. If you offer it to me I’m going to have a glass, or two, or three. But why drop that kind of money (because you are not going to disrespect New Year’s Eve with a $20 bottle are you?) on a night that shares a definition withINSANITY? As for the rest of the booze? Honestly just be safe; whether you go out or stay in. No one likes the stupidly drunk. In most cases you don’t need it to have a great time.


One of my best New Year’s Eves happens to have been during my high school years. I, along with 3 other friends, decided to attempt the ‘Drink 1 Gallon of Milk in One Hour Challenge’. I “won” by only having about 8 oz. left by the time the hour was up. Overall none of us “won”, but breakfast at Village Inn the following morning never tasted so good…once the floor stopped moving.


However, on the reverse end when you CAN drink it’s difficult to go without even one drink to help celebrate. While living in LA I dated a girl who ended up taking me to an AA sponsored New Year’s Eve party. Nuf said.


2.) Kiss at midnight: Just another reminder to anyone who is not with someone that they are alone…and better yet you’re alone at the beginning of the new year. Congrats. Go make out with that bottle of gin. The icing on the cake is that in about 6 weeks you’ll get another reminder that you’re still single.


1.) Resolutions: Yes, the yearly promises we make that survive perhaps one, maybe two months, if even that. As ‘The Lion King’ taught me there is then a circle of life…which in that case means you’ll end up making the same resolutions the following year, and the year after that, and the year after that.


The way I see it these come in various levels:


Level One are the actual realistic ones that are at the complete control of the person: drink less, get in better shape, quit smoking, save more money, spend more time with friends or family. Again, we have control over these things. Want to get in better shape, join a gym. Want to drink less, don’t keep as much in the house. Want to save money, actually prepare a budget.


Then there are the Level Two resolutions that people make that they don’t have control over, or at least complete control over. I’m willing to wager that the most common one is to either fall in love and/or get married. It’s like saying you’re going to be married by 25. Then 27. Then 30. Then 32. Stop setting yourself up like that. This requires two people. Love is a two way street, unless you’re a fan of restraining orders. Don’t resolve to fall in love. We don’t have the sort of control. A close second is probably finding a new job. Again the only control you really have is quitting your current job. You can take steps to then make yourself look appealing to other employers but in the end…they make that final decision.




I have one Level One resolution on the table: to eat better (again) and work on some otherwise lacking areas of my own personal fitness. Perhaps I’ll even try to do a little more reading considering there are some books on my shelf a couple of years old that haven’t been cracked open yet.


What are you all resolving for 2013?


As a New Years treat, from me to you all, here’s something I look forward to every year around this time…end-of-the-year mash-ups!




See you in 2013!

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A mini-10-year reunion.

I have no idea if I have told you all about my friend Brandon.

Brandon and I went to high school together, and by that I mean, we were in the same building. We were not friends. We didn’t talk. In fact, he was pretty much a hippie-dead-head kid and I was school-spirit-maker-dance-team-captain-newspaper-writer.

About 3 years ago, Brandon sent me a message out of the blue on Facebook just seeing what was up, how was I? After exchanging several messages, we swapped phone numbers and have been texting ever since.

Some weeks or months, we talk alot, sometimes on the phone. And sometimes, we’ll go months without talking, without a grudge, but when we talk again, all is well. Like most guy-girl friendships, I think there has been a small attraction there. We flirt sometimes, and we do get a little jealous when the other person has landed a date.

A few months ago, Brandon sent me a text saying he was going to be in my area December 4, we should have lunch. Brandon, a sound technician, travels with bands on tour, setting up their…set.

I immediately said yes, of course! And then I was just a little nervous. I hadn’t seen this person in 10 years, we’d only talked on the phone a handful of times. Would we get along? Will he be cute? Will we kiss?

I sent him a text asking, is this lunch or “lunch”?

He didn’t know what the fuck I was talking about, so I assumed I was a giant slut and went along with my week.

In the week leading up to his visit, he said he was excited to see me, but we really hadn’t nailed down plans and I was starting to freak. The drive to get to him was an hour and a half, so if we were going to be drinking, I’d have to figure out a plan for the night, etc. Sigh.

I took a friend’s advice and just asked him what he wanted to do?

“Drink, eat, be fat,” he said. No help.

“When do you want me to come down?” I asked.

“Whenever you’d like,” he said. NO HELP.

I finally laid it out. “I have a meeting Tuesday night until 8:30, so I can meet you around 10, or I can come Wednesday morning, but I’ll have to bolt around 7 wednesday evening.

“That seems silly to come down Wednesday and then leave. Come Tuesday.” He told me his hotel address, and that was that.

I assumed this was an invitation to stay the night, but since it wasn’t laid out nice and neat, I was still confused. Either way, I packed a small bag and made the trip Tuesday night.

After getting lost and probably getting a toll bridge fine, I made it to his hotel and was ready for a stiff drink.

He looked so cute. And tall.

He said he knew some girls from work that found a cool bar with a band. So we grabbed a cab and headed that way. The girls were nice, the music was great, and the alcohol was flowing.

“We haven’t seen each other in 10 years!” I said as we cheered to shots of whiskey.

The girls left, as did most of the other bar patrons, and we sat at the bar trying to finish our beers. It was almost 2:30 am.

Mid conversation, he leaned in a kissed me. And it was a good one.

We took our beers to go, and hopped into a cab, where we proceeded to make out.

We got back to the hotel room and I recall lots of rolling around, and perhaps an attempt at sex, but the real stuff came in the morning.

This scenario is something I’d toyed with for months, even years, perhaps. If we ever met up, would there be a spark? After many conversations with Gizzy, I really wanted to just go with it. I didn’t want to plague myself with my usual fears of sex, or paranoia about how many people I’ve slept with, or whatever. This was someone that I’ve been talking to for years, and who knows when we’ll see each other again.

But while I was thinking, and pretty much assuming we would have sex, he SAYS he didn’t. Over lunch the next day, he said he was really shocked, yet very proud to wake up next to me with no clothes on.

“I did not think the visit would be like THAT!” he said.

“You didnt?” I asked. I didn’t know if he was just trying to be kind.

Either way, I had a great time. I told him it couldn’t be another 10 years before we see each other again.

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Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb

I didn’t hang out with Sweater Vest and Dina on Friday, I didn’t hang out with 2nd crush on Saturday. Instead, I hung out with Acts Gay but Says He’s Straight Friend Adam.  He just moved to the big city and we had to go out and do it right.  Doing it right included going to an outdoor rooftop bar, yes please.  Then we traversed the city to see all the sights, each with a 6 pack in tow.  I gave a homeless guy a beer, he took 1 sip and then wasted it, I got pissed and told the next homeless guy to go fuck himself.  Trouble ensued, and acts gay but says he’s straight friend Adam had to give the guy his last dollar so we wouldn’t get beaten.  Then, I sass talked multiple security guards and we got in more trouble and got kicked out of a park.  This is why I will never be a suitable mother.  All in all it was a good night, and at 2am I was walking home from the subway alone, which I’ve never done and it wasn’t so bad.  I had High School Crush on the phone to keep me company/make me feel like if I got mugged I’d be ok. 

When I got home and got into bed HSC and I were texting and he texted me something really sweet about how he wished I was there – to which I did not reply because I was face first into my pillow having a drunken snooze fest.  When I woke up 10 hours later, hungover as all hell, I was all, “Me too!” And asked him a question about the rest of his night.  I never got a response, and here it is Tuesday, and I’m still waiting….

Let me backup here, High School Crush and I have talked every single day since about oh March or so.  I’m trying not to freak out, but we’re on day 3 and this behavior is peculiar.  Right now I’m chalking it up to the fact that he’s probably overwhelmed because he’s closing on his house this week and trying to get the guts to double text, but I’m afraid I might not get a response, again. 

My horoscope for the week made me feel a little better… Beauty is nice, but it’s intelligence that turns on a lady like you. After all, substance is the only way to keep you interested, as superficial challenges can only excite for so long. Lucky for you this week will be a mind twister that will tease you in all the right ways. Seems curiosity will thrill your cat, and have you purring a sweeter tune.

That’s a good sign, right?

Tonight Dina and I are going to a baseball game, so that should do a good job of keeping me occupied and not checking my phone like a psycho.  Or it will backfire because I’ll get really drunk and text something inappropriate.  Tune in Thursday to see what happens in this hot mess.

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My past is back to haunt me…again

I was driving back to the big city last night thinking about the perfect weekend I was leaving behind.  I hung out with Betty with no drama, I hung out with High School Crush, had some quality family time, and got a nice tan while I was at it.

About an hour outside of the city I got this text from Betty…

“Mercedes just texted me all of this: Ran into Gizzy’s prom date last night. Pretty sure he’s in love with her lol. And I feel like every time I see him he’s wearing the same shirt. High School Crush something something.  That’s what his shirt said. And he was asking if she had a bf, if she was dating that High School Crush dude, if she was still in the big city…Lol all up in her biz!”

Uhhh… hold the bus.

As you may recall, Mercedes and I haven’t been friends nor have we spoken in a year and a half because she’s a cum guzzling drama whore.  So my first thought was forget prom date, why is SHE all up in MY biz? We are not friends.

This whole situation makes me nervous.  You see, back when Mercedes and I were friends she ran into my date to the senior prom at a party, they got to talking and realized they both knew me.  So they drunk dialed me.  We all had a good laugh about it and I haven’t heard of them running into each other since then, probably 3 or 4 years ago.

Also if you recall, my prom date was/is one of High School Crush’s best friends, and I also drunkenly told HSC back then that I didn’t want to go to prom with the guy.  Such a long dramatic history.

Anyway, this is bad.  I’ve tried really hard to cleanse my life of bad people like Mercedes. And now this, something that is beyond my control.  My biggest fear is that she’s still out to get me and will spill the guts to the prom date about my dating past (Snoop-Linus) and he’ll tell High School Crush all about it.  And I’ll look like a weak insecure idiot.

Don’t get me wrong here, I am not trying to hide my dating past from HSC, but we haven’t gotten into all that.  And frankly, if we never do I’ll be ok with it.  But, if we do have the “Ex talk”, I want to be the one to tell him about the awful life changing relationship with Snoop-Linus.  Because if Mercedes tells his friends the emphasis will be drugs, that he cheated on me and I stayed with him, and that I was crazy and looked through his stuff and was basically a stalker trying to figure out who and what he was doing behind my back.  When I talk about it I’d like to take the emphasis off the bad decision that I made to stay with him for so long and the crazy that took over me and highlight the fact that I learned about all the things I don’t want in a relationship/partner. Obviously in the right situation with the right guy I won’t be like that again, because I won’t have to. But an ex-friend certainly won’t shed light on how awesome I am.

Anyway, High School Crush is still talking me today so if anything was said and it was passed down the line to him he’s ok with it or doesn’t care, because it’s still normal.  So whatevs, I freak out for nothing.  

So onto the good stuff, HSC called me on Saturday and asked me to come to his friend’s pool party.  I had plans with my mom and sister so I told him I’d come later on that evening.  When I got there it was our friend from high school (Closet Freak, if anyone is keeping track), his brother and the brother’s girlfriend, his sister, High School Crush’s sister, and her husband.  And the friend’s mom. 

As the night wound down HSC asked if I wanted to come back to his parent’s house and hang out, so I said ok. 

A little back story here.  In high school, Lucky and I were stalkers.  We’d drive past the houses of the guys we liked jamming out to Justin Timberlake because it was an adreneline rush.  Occassionally when we’d drive past someone’s house they’d be outside, recognize our car and stop us to hang out.  I assume that’s why we did it, because we were losers and no one called us to hang out but if they ran into us they’d hang out with us by default. 

So as we were about to leave the party I texted Lucky cracking up at myself saying, “I’m about to go to HSC’s parent’s house and I have to pretend like I don’t know where he lives.”

10 years ago if you would’ve told me I’d be going over to his house to hang out I would have slapped you in the face.  But today? Not so shocking, and it was just like it would have been in high school.  By the time we got there his parent’s were already in bed so we had to sneak around the house in the dark to get to the basement.  He showed me his childhood room and we went back out to the tv hang out room to watch a movie. At that point I pictured 14 year old Gizzy and Lucky giving each other a high five.  They would be so proud.

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I hate my friends

Let me say, I had pretty much a whole post written for today about my crazy busy week last week and left just enough words to finish it off with my weekend happenings, because I didn’t think there would be that much to tell.  But you know how that goes, where there is a Betty there is a trouble.

So I drove to hometown over the weekend, because as you know Lucky and I will be in Vegas this weekend over Mother’s Day.  I feel like an asshole for not spending it with my mom, but you know going that weekend saved us a lot of money so what can you do? Anywho, I went home so that on Sunday I could do Mother’s Day type stuff with my mom.

Mid-week my mom called me telling me she got a flyer in the mail for a car dealership that was having a liquidation sale.  As you all know, my fighting green Honda is a piece of shit and I have been in despie need of a new car for well over 2 years.  My mom and I decided we would go check out the sale Saturday morning, Betty was having a party Saturday afternoon that I had to be at by 2.  So we did that and I found a car that I wanted to buy.  If you’ve ever bought a new car you know that it takes like the whole freaking day for them to drum up some paperwork for it.  So I left the dealership with my new ride around 3:30 and had already texted Betty apologizing telling her that I was buying a car and would be late.  Which she was ok with.

Since I was the last to arrive at the party Betty texted me with a grocery list of things she had forgotten (see: 3 bags of ice, club soda, limes, a fifth of captain morgan, a pitcher, extra tortilla chips, etc…) on top of the 3 dishes, case of beer, and bottle of tequila I was already bringing, and asked me to pick all of this up before I came.  I agreed, and soon after I got there the party cleared out and there were only a few people left.  So yeah, all that shit I had just spent like $40 on (that Betty never reimbursed me for) didn’t even get used. 

Anyway, when I arrived at the party Betty was hammered, as per usual, and was stumbling all over the place.  A few more people came and went and Betty kept saying she wanted to go to this bar later to see her friend’s boyfriend’s band play.  Several people that left the party said they would meet everyone there if that was the plan.  So, the night wound down and it was nearing 10 o’clock (the time the band was going to start playing) and the only people left at the party were Betty, her boyfriend, me, and one other couple.  Betty was blacked out, could hardly even stand, and was just itching to pick a fight with her boyfriend. Because she hates him.

Before I go on let’s back up a little, earlier in the week I had told High School Crush that I’d be in this city (the one we always meet in) and that he should come there so we could see each other.  I didn’t immediately invite him to Betty’s because I wanted to gauge the party before I threw him into that situation and I thought the chances of us going out were pretty good and I could just meet up with him once we were out. But when it looked like we were going to be staying around Betty’s neighborhood I asked HSC if he’d be interested in coming out with us, he agreed but the only problem was that he had already been drinking with his friends.  Since I was sober I offered to come pick him up.

This is where the story continues, I tell Betty that I’m going to pick up HSC because he’s going to come out with us, which she seems fine with.  So I go in her house and start gathering my things to leave and in walks her boyfriend saying he was sent in to talk some sense into me.  Apparently, he and Betty didn’t think it was a good idea for me to go pick up HSC because if he was into me he would find a way to get to me.  Which, yes, I’m sure he would spend $40 or $50 to take a cab to come there, but why should he do that when I’m sober and can go pick him up? Betty’s boyfriend went off on a tangent about how High School Crush just must not be that into me, because he would do ANYTHING to get to Betty.  Which pissed me off because that’s not a question to me.  We talk every day, I know he’s into me, he tells me he’s into me, so who is this guy that doesn’t even know him to say he’s not? What I really wanted to say was, oh do you think you’re that into Betty when you have chicks sending you naked pictures?

So, I go back out to Betty and ask her what that was all about.  And she’s all, “He needs to treat you like a princess. And he doesn’t.” Which is insane.  She is fucking cray cray. And because she is a nut the information I tell her is very limited, all she knows is that we’re still talking and to her knowledge the last time we saw each other was back in February at the festival – which as you know, is not the case.  So I’m all, alright I’ll be back, already feeling bad for what HSC is about to be put through when he gets there.  Then, Betty asks if she can come and be annoying in the back seat. My response? “No, you can’t, because the last time you talked to HSC you told him I was too good for him, invited him back to your place to sleep in your daugher’s bunkbed with me, and told him I was at a bar to see my ex-boyfriend.  And you just spent the last 10 minutes talking shit about a guy who at some point will probably be my boyfriend, so no, you can’t be annoying in the back seat, I’m going alone.” She got pissed, told me that hurt her feelings and asked why I was embarrassed of her.  I just left.

About 15 minutes later I got a text from Betty’s boyfriend saying, “Take your time. Betty passed out.”  So, I went to where HSC was at, told him about the shenanigans (excluding Betty’s shit talking) and he his reaction was for me to just stay there with his friends, which seemed like a better idea to me.  So I didn’t go back to Betty’s, what would have been the point in that? At 4am when she woke up and saw I wasn’t there she sent me a shitty text saying thanks for coming back to hang out with her.  Apparently the point of me coming back there was so that I could watch her sleep. Seriously?

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The breakup weekend (part II).

When we LAST left ShyGuy, he was battling a bout of Deja vu over showing his ballsac to a friend’s girlfriend…

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Because what grown man doesn’t like showing his genitals.

I don’t believe I actually did this but AMDB decided we should get off the bus- though I think he just mistakenly thought it was our stop. Either way, we got off and walked a couple blocks.

Have you noticed at this point how much attention I’ve paid to ChaCha?

SO the night ends and we all pass out.

When we awake, I wanted to go to the beach, so we got breakfast then went to the beach, listened to tunes, played in the ocean, and went back to the condo by noon to start drinking. Any good day drinking must include corn hole, so that’s what we were obviously playing. After a good couple hours of outdoor festivities, AMDB and I are sufficiently pleased with ourselves and decide to make a bet on the next game of corn hole that we play. The bet is that the losing team has to take one shot of every different alcohol that’s in the house. Nobody knew at that point how much it was. That was part of the fun. We shook on it and the game was on.

I have never played a better game in my life. I was consistently putting bags in the hole and on the board. I was- with respect to  old school NBA Jam- en fuego.

Unfortunately- someone forgot to shut the refrigerator, maybe that’s the reason my partner was acting so cold? He sucked.

And we lost in quadruple overtime.

Into the house we march to accept our punishment and take it like men. The only problem: The cupboards and freezers seemed to be like magicians hats that just kept producing more liquor. Two flavored vodka’s, two tequilas, two rums, a gin, one-fifty-one, and some clown pulled out absinthe.

Welp, see ya tomorrow.

Through some rather impressive negotiating tactics, we managed to successfully argue that the two different kinds of Vodka, tequila, and rum were really the same so we didn’t need to take two shots of each. But still. After drinking beer most of the day, we each decided to split the 6 shots, and fired back three, bam, bam, bam.

This is where someone else should take over telling the story.

Here’s what I remember: Somersaults. Lots of somersaults.

What I don’t remember but have been told since:

I played a game of beer pong in which I dominated- like hit 9 of 10 cups, the one I missed being the last cup.

I also walked up to one of the AMDB’s buddies whom I hadn’t met until then and who’s girlfriend is super butch and asked him all about his sex life with a linebacker.

Upon hearing Katy Perry’s Fireworks started an impromptu underwear dance party- which others obviously joined- just like the music video.

Retreated to the restroom to barf, then returned to the party and bought $80 worth of Papa Johns pizza on my credit card.

Then, and only then, did I acknowledge ChaCha in that I started humping her and saying ‘why don’t you like my foreplay’. Did I mention this was in front of everyone?

I came out of blackout with my head on the floor of the bathroom where the toilet was spotless- I like to clean when I’m drunk apparently. And an almost completely eaten pizza next to me in the box. As I left the bathroom, there was ChaCha sitting on the bed holding my cell phone.

“I went through it” she said.

“Why’d you do that?” I asked.

“Because I was convinced there was someone else”

“Did you find anyone else?”


“HA! Well now I don’t feel so bad for blacking out and not paying attention to you.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the last meaningful conversation I had with ChaCha.

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The breakup weekend (part I)

Aren’t you lovelies just LURVING ShyGuy’s story time? I know I am! Today’s story is so ridiculous (not like Phaedra’s RiDICKulous) that it’s a 2-parter, and you really don’t want to miss it!

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IN my first post, I referenced ending my relationship with my on-again-off-again jealous ex girlfriend, ChaCha. I call her that because of her love of tequila, taquitos, and annoyingly asking questions like the day laborers at the Home Depot. “You need help carry? You need install? You need good work?”

ChaCha has a friend who’s boyfriend I have a mancrush on. He’s the alpha male of drinking buddies. AMDB’s birthday is in late July and he had planned a beach weekend on the eastern shore of Maryland. I know, I hesitated too. But ChaCha and I agreed to go months prior, and despite what ChaCha would tell you, I was really excited to go with them. So excited, in fact, that I was actually delayed  breaking up with her because I really wanted to go to this weekend extravaganza. But my conscious got the best of me and I couldn’t make it to that weekend before breaking up with her. I broke up with her around her birthday- an unfortunate coincidence- but one that needed to happen.

Side story- I bought my condo two years ago when we had just started dating seriously. As a housewarming present ChaCha got me a skimpy housewarming present. I know she got me this because we got in a fight not long after I moved in, so she took- whatever housewarming  lingerie she’d bought- back to the lingerie shop and got a refund- which she then spent on a vibrator. So before breaking up with her, I had actually bought her a really nice gift, but instead of stooping to her level and returning it for something only I’d want to use, I simply returned it and got her something smaller- a Starbucks gift card for an enabling amount of espresso and ice coffees.

Anyway, the way ChaCha and I broke up wasn’t particularly hostile (at that point). In fact for the few weeks after the actual break up, we were fairly civil as we both stupidly and naively thought we- of all couples of all time- could make it work as friends immediately post break-up. Stupid. So we agreed to use AMDB’s birthday as a ‘last hurrah’. Which I basically assumed meant I’d have all the ‘benefits’ of having a girlfriend on a vacation, without necessarily any of the responsibilities.

So I did, what many confrontation avoiding-fun loving guys would do in this situation. I drank a lot and acted inappropriately. Friday night we started drinking at 5pm. AMDB taught me this game similar to beer pong, except there’s only one cup per person. Then I taught AMDB a game called Shut Up and Drink Your Beer. Which was basically just an excuse for us to yell at each other in a bromantic way and get each other hammered. There was a lot of hugs.

Around 11pm, six hours of drinking later, we decide to go to this bar/club called Sea-crets. Yes that’s how its spelled. It was the first time I’d ever been to a bar with metal detectors. I was initially sketched out until I was told this place had a dance floor- IN THE OCEAN!! Sober, that sounds like a fun idea that I’d need to check for hepititus first, but drunk I picture MTV Spring break- uncensored.  SOLD, here’s my cover. We walk in and ChaCha, AMDB, AMDB’s girlfriend and I find ourselves alone at the bar, and a shot of tequila happened. A few more shots are had- all tequila for me- before the group decides to leave and we get back on the bus to take us back to the place we’re staying. It’s full of idiot drunks just like us. The girls sit and the guys stand facing them. Then it hits me. Déjà vu up the yin-yang.

I’d had a dream a few weeks prior of this very situation. Everything that I noticed was exactly the same as what was happening in real life. But in my dream, I thought it would be hilarious to look at AMDB’s GF, wip out my scrotum from my pants and say with a straight face, ‘AMDB’s GF, I’m NUTS about you,’ while I get her to gander at my exposed testicles…

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Will he do it?? Read part II tomorrow loves! 

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