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Gizzy’s Christmas Letter

Since I’ve been MIA for about, oh forever, I figure you guys might like a little update on what’s going on in my life besides being a dumpee victim. So here I give you my Christmas-esk letter about all the other stuff.

Dear Family, Friends, Colleagues, and People I don’t know:

I hope this letter finds you well. As you know, in the past 6 months my life has done a 180 and back again. It’s been a weird ride, hopefully for the better but we’ll find out when this transitional phase in my life is over.

My new job near hometown is awesome. I really have no complaints, I mean working with numbers kind of sucks donkey but I couldn’t ask for a better office atmosphere. Basically take the complete opposite of my job in the big city times that by 10, douce it in glitter, have Elton John sing about it, and you’ve got my new job. My department is comprised of all women (13 of us), which you might think would be a lot of drama, but it’s not at all, most of them are older and hysterical. When my alma mater played the nearby University that everyone cheers for in basketball, they decorated my office space in streamers, banners, and memorabilia of their team, and interrupted me with the fight song every time I opened my mouth that day. My original plan was to take this job because it was a permanent position and keep it until I could find something permanent in the branch of the company I had originally started out in. But now I like working with these ladies so well, and they’ve honestly brought me out of my social anxiety shell, that I might just stay forever. They like to have office parties, literally every other week, and it’s awesome. At first I was like, okay are we ever going to do work around here? But now I love it and can’t wait until the next one – which happens to be my birthday celebration. Aside from Lucky and my family, no one has ever done anything special for my birthday, hell my co-workers in the Big City didn’t even know when my birthday was (assholes). But as soon as these guys found out my birthday was approaching they scheduled a party planning meeting where they asked me what my favorite types of foods were, what I didn’t like to eat, what my favorite colors are, and what theme I wanted (I picked Princess theme, because why the eff not? I will absolutely wear a sparkly tiara and fluffy dress for the day and I will rock the shit out of it). For the first time since I turned 21 I’m actually excited for my birthday.

And since I’ve started working there, I’ve discovered that if you go to graduate school at that nearby University that my office happens to be partnered with, if you can get in, you go for free. Getting an MBA has always been a big goal of mine, so I did all that riff-raff to apply, got accepted, and will be starting graduate classes this summer. I meet with my academic advisor Friday morning to schedule my classes – eck! So, for right now I’m pretty stoked, come July and August when I’m balancing school and work I’ll probably feel different but ya know, whatevs.

I signed up to run two 5Ks this summer, one supporting epilepsy research in honor of my sister (Team Ella!) and one that’s just for fun where there’s lot of beer at the end, I hope to run a mini-marathon or tough mudder race in the fall (if I don’t die of exhaustion before then).

Aside from that, I’m up to the same old shenanigans. I still like drinking beer, cussing like a sailor, watching trashy tv, and sitting on my couch. Some things never change.

Happy Holidays!

Gizzy

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It’s on like donkey kong…with high school crush.

First things first, I want to say how upset I am with Lucky for making me upset that my real life isn’t like a Tommy Hilfiger commercial.  I saw the draft of her post yesterday bright and early Saturday morning and spent a good 45 minutes in bed watching commercials introducing us to the Hilfiger clan and day dreaming that I was there.  I was dating the hot door opening guy and Lucky the snowboarder, we would spend our weekends at the country club and watch our men play golf while we sipped dirty martini’s in our derby hats and puffed away on our quellazaires.  And it was ok, because in dreams you don’t get lung cancer and smoking is cool.  If there is ever a day when my family looks like that and are all bouncing around in their underwear decorating for Christmas I’ll start a world-wide petition that incest should be ok.  And you know how anti-incest I am.

Speaking of incest… (Like that transition?) Remember when my step-aunt and uncle wanted to bend the rules of morally right and set me up with their nephew and I was all cry baby about it because I think it’s gross to even flirt with someone that you can say you share an aunt and uncle with?  Well, he rejected me.  I wasn’t even interested and he rejected me. 

We sent a handful of facebook messages back and forth saying how funny step-aunt and uncle are for trying to set us up.  I didn’t ever mention meeting up because frankly every time I thought about it I threw up in my mouth a little.  And then, early last week, he sent the dreaded message asking if I had any days free between December 21st and New Years.  Uhh nopers, sure don’t.  And that’s not a lie; I will be on an island not worried about how my family is gross.  So I replied back telling him I’d be away on vacation, so that wouldn’t work and maybe we could get together the next time he was in the tri-state area.  Then he replied with this:

Sounds good, next year may be busy because the company now wants to move me to California to manage a new project for 2-3 years. I told Aunt I would apply for her company but California sounds like a good time.

Oh… okay, so you’re busy for the next 3 years.  No big deal, see you on the other side. I just thought this was hilarious. The way he says it makes it sound like I’ll still be around single and ready to mingle in 3 years and we can give it a try then (which probably isn’t wrong, but I’d like someone to give me the benefit of the doubt.  Especially since I was having dinner with Snatch and Anth the other night and they keep telling me to go on a date with their friend they call Dad and how they will still be trying to set me up with him when we are all retired.  And I was like for real? You think I’ll still be single at 70???!!! They made shifty eyes are were all… ummm heh heh jk jk!) Anyway, I know we were both just going to meet as a courtesy to our aunt and uncle who just thought we would be a match made in incest heaven, so I am relieved that I didn’t have to have an awkward date with someone who is basically family.

But, when one door you tried to lock shut to begin with closes another one opens, right?  Friday I’ll be seeing High School Crush at an ugly sweater themed charity thing.  I am excited to get inappropriately drunk with the possibility of getting my dreams crushed when he shows up with another girl, but I am not so excited to wear an ugly sweater that I don’t yet own.  I get it; dressing up in ugly things is fun.  But it stresses me out; wearing something ugly means my personality has to shine that much more on Friday night.  As if I don’t already have enough things going against me with this (barfing on him 8 years ago, the white elephant in the room that he picked dating an ugly horse over me after the barfing incident, the flashback he’ll surely have of the barfing incident when he sees me with a drink in my hand Friday) now I have to add in wearing something ugly.  And I can’t not do it, because what’s worse than being the girl who dresses sexy in a room full of people that are dressed ugly?

Usually when I think I’m going to see a guy I’ve had a crush on for 14 years I would spend all week making sure I had the perfect outfit planned out, my nails, hair, and skin all looked flawless.  But that all goes out the window this weekend.  It’s do or die time kids, this is what we’ve been waiting for.  This is like senior year spring break all over again.  8 years ago I was that barfing drunk girl and he still liked me (until the barfing happened).   So maybe now I can be that drunk girl dressed ugly and he’ll still like me.  God please do not let me barf on him again. 

And as if all of these factors already playing against me weren’t bad enough, Betty will be there.  Betty is like my kryptonite when it comes to guys.  If she says anything to him she will ruin 14 years of hard work and it’ll all be over.  I can see exactly what will happen, we’ll be chit chatting it up flirting away and zoning in for the long awaited make out and Betty will walk up and be like, “Hey you know Gizzy has liked you for half of her life?  Oh, and she poops.”  And he’ll be like, “Gross!!!  Laterz!” and I’ll never see him again.  The chances of this working out are about as good as a quadriplegic climbing a mountain. (Honestly, that’s probably happened, so the odds are worse, just as bad of odds as one can have.)

After I found out that I’d be seeing HSC this weekend I decided I needed to do something to take the pressure off (obvi).  Not that anything will happen (see, not jinxing it, that’s a good thing).  But say something works out and HSC and I decide to throw each other a drunken make out, I haven’t kissed anyone in 10 months, do I really want to break my dry spell and blow my only shot with HSC by licking his chin when I forget how to kiss because I’m so nervous? So, I went to the gym last night prowling for a date. 

I don’t know why, because my gym notoriously has a bunch of fugly guys walking around, but I went anyway.  I was on the elliptical doing my thing, scoping out the scene when I saw a hot guy come in.  It was perfect, not only was he hot and looked like he’d be down for some practice make outs he picked the machine right in front of mine.  He put all of his stuff on the little ledge then turned around and sat on the back of the treadmill for a solid 5 minutes and looked at me.  A little creepy, but he smiled at me so I took it as that he had ESP and was down for the make out, and then he said “Hi” and gave me some lets meet in the locker room after this eyes.  So it was on.  Then, he hopped up and was getting ready to start running when I noticed him pulling down his knee length shorts that unveiled his running panties.  The guy was wearing running panties.  If there is one thing that a guy can do to instantly turn a girl off it is wear running panties in public, or ever.  Blech!!  I don’t know, I guess I’ll just practice making out with my hand, because that is better than making out with a guy who wears running panties.

So there you have it, I have the triple threat of Betty, looking ugly, and rusty make out skills all working against me on this.  If I can come away from Friday night Scott free without crying I’ll consider it a success.

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