Tag Archives: single girls

Douche Day Returns

Happy Jerseday Everyone!!   Let’s start off this fist pumping with a DOUCHE DAY story!

A few weeks ago my friend Dina came up to visit, I haven’t seen her in a year so a reunion was so very necessary.  She came to my apartment one night; we started off with cocktails at my apartment and stories of how we hate men.  We ended the night at an afterhour’s club with my old sorority friend Vickie and that’s all I remember.

I woke up the next morning to Anth pounding on my bedroom door saying Dina was texting him because she needed to get her stuff.  It was literally one of those out of body experiences where I was like, “Really? What happened last night? Am I alive right now?”  I was still in my clothes from the night before, my tv was blaring, the lights were all on, there were ralphing remnants crusted to my face, oh and I was still super wasted. 

Dina showed up an hour later, not pissed off that I had obviously left her at the club to fend for her own.  Apparently we were with a guy she had been dating so she stayed at his house.  Shew!  And I was dancing with his ugly sidekick.  Yuck.  We tried to recrap the rest of the night but failed and failed again.

After a while of diligently searching I found my phone and started to look through the texts and calls to see if I could figure out what had happened.  That’s when I saw it.  A text from: DOUCHEAROO.

The Time:  3:49AM

The Message From DOUCHEAROO:  Was I ever mean to you when we dated?  As in really mean like made you feel awful about yourself?

The Time:  4:02AM

My Reply:  REALLY?!!

—14 hours lapsed time of me coming out of my drunken stupor, being hungover, and wanting to die—

9:59 PM – DOUCHEAROO:  Yes, really.

Me:  You told me I was crazy, a bitch, and dumb while you saved messages from your ex telling you that “you’re wonderful”  and you acted like I was disposable, so yeah I’d say I felt prettttty bad about myself when I dated you.

DOUCHEAROO:  I’m sorry about that.

Me: Uh, thanks.

DOUCHEAROO:  I guess I have been through some shit lately.  So I just wanted to know.  Made me appreciate your level of sanity.

Me: Oh yeah, dealing with some crazy?

DOUCHEAROO:  You have no idea.  (Editor’s note:  HAHA, he deserves it.  Dick.)

Me:  Good luck with that.

DOUCHEAROO:  Noted.  Can I tell you one thing?

Me: What?

DOUCHEAROO:  I’m sorry I took you for granted.  I was stupid and didn’t care.  Just know that any guy is lucky to have you.  Anyone who disagrees is a moron.

Me: Um, thanks?

DOUCHEAROO: Welcome, we did have some good times I thought.

Me: Sure.

DOUCHEAROO: I guess my point is that I’m sorry when I hurt you.  You deserved better.

Me: Yep, 4 years too late with that apology.

DOUCHEAROO:  Just wanted you to know.  Your name is still Gizzysaurus in my phone by the way.

Me: Cool.

DOUCHEAROO:  I miss you.  That’s all I will say.

Annnnnd that’s where I quit replying.  Like you have got to be freaking kidding me!! 

Next message—-

TO: Snoop Linus

From: Gizzy

I HAAAAAATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU.

Right, a little immature and unnecessary but I don’t regret it and I was out of my element so whatever.

Reply from Snoop-Linus 5 days later:  I fucked everything up, all of it.  I just need you back in my life, the past year hasn’t been the same without you.  I love you Gizzy.

Really?  I say I hate you after not speaking to the kid for months I send I hate you and get an I love you I need you back in my life? 

So the lessoned to be learned here is that even at 26 years old I still cannot be trusted with my own cell phone while intoxicated.   

I think getting that “I hate you” out of my system will end the whole Snoop-Linus debacle and I don’t think DOUCHEAROO will be texting me for sometime after getting shot down…. Again.   DENIED!

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Plain Jane

One of my favorite things about having a blog is looking at the things that people google that gives them this blog as a search result.  Some of the better ones lately:

zit on vagina – old bitch in boot – why won’t he respond to friend request – kelsey grammer’s penis – italian sex fucking style – semen cocktails

Anyway, has anyone seen the show Plain Jane on the CW?  I caught it last Thursday while I was at the gym running, it kept my attention and the next thing I knew I had run like 6 miles.

The show stars Louise Roe, who apparently is a big fashion guru and looks strikingly similar to Kelly Bensimon from the Real Housewives of New York.  She picks a girl who is, you guessed it… a plain Jane and transforms her into her own little mini-me who is confident, sexy, fashionable, and all that other stuff you want to be.  Now there’s a twist, each “Plain Jane” has a crush that has put her into the friend zone and after their life changing make over and “confidence building exercises” (the episode I saw, they made the girl do a burlesque dance to find her femininity, and ask guys for their numbers at a dog park to give her confidence) they tell the guy that they want to set him up on a blind date.  There he is waiting for his blind date and in walks BFF plain Jane looking sparkly and new.  They’re all… Omg bet you didn’t guess it was me for like 10 minutes then they sit down and start talking about how they have had crushes on each other for like ever and live happily ever after. 

First, I am going to watch this show every Thursday for 2 reasons #1 I’m a dork and #2 not every episode can end happily ever after, right? I want to see one where the guy is like, well… I’ve kind of been banging this playboy model on the side and yeah, I can do better than you. 

Like most shows, this got me thinking.  If I were selected to be on this show and got a makeover to impress some guy who would the guy even be?  I have absolutely 0 prospects.  Like, I don’t even have a crush.  I guess for this reason alone they would never pick me to be on the show.  I’d have to pay Anth in fake boobs and blondes to have him pretend to be my crush so that I could get a free makeover.  This is what my life has come to.

On that note, I got asked out for coffee today at work.  I don’t know if it was in a romantic way or in a friendly you do a lot of shit for me at work so let me buy you a cup of joe to make you feel appreciated way.  Either way, I agreed.  So, the guy’s name is Alex he is decent looking and funny, but the downfall is that he is dumb.  I don’t know how else to put it nicely, the guy is just not the brightest crayon in the box?  When he sees a round hole he puts a square peg in it?  I don’t know what you want me to say.  I guess you’ll have that, but it’s a big turn off for me – which is why I wasn’t interested in him when I met him.  Yes he’s attractive, but in my world dumb trumps attractive.

At this stage in my life I’ve got to give a guy the least amount of reasons to cheat on me.  Because apparently just being my awesome self isn’t good enough.  I’ve begun to realize that it’s pretty much all about power with guys, the better they feel about themselves when they’re with you – the less likely they are to go looking for someone else to make them feel better.  Now don’t get me wrong here, I would never change who I am just to get a guy or to make a guy feel good about himself, fuck that, but let’s cut to the chase… I want a guy who is smarter than I am, and if he’s not, he needs to at least be on the same level as me.  I don’t want a guy who is going to be all… “Well she’s smarter than me, and makes more money, and half of the time I don’t know what she’s talking about so I’m going to go find a dumb girl to bang so I don’t feel like a loser.” NO!

And this guy makes comments about how I am smarter than him, so I wouldn’t even go there.  Whenever I have to do work with him I honestly have to explain what we’re doing about 50 times and then he still doesn’t get it and I just have to do everything myself.

So anyway, he called me up this morning to talk about a project we’re working on.  At the end of the call he asked if I ever make my way near his building.  I said not that often, but I occasionally walk over to the Starbucks in the morning for coffee if I’m feeling frisky, then he asked if he could buy me a cup of coffee Friday morning.  I said sure and he said he’d call me Thursday so we could set a time to meet. I said okay, he said okay I’m looking forward to it I’ll talk to you Thursday.  Done deal. 

So we’ll see what happens.  I need you guys to help me think of some exit strategies if things go awry. 

P.S. 300th POST! Wahoo!

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Gizzy vs. Big City

I would like to say ditto to Lucky’s post yesterday.  I’m bored with my life and I just moved 8 months ago.  I think a lot of it is because I’m not meeting new people that I like and want to hang out with and because it’s a hassle to try to go out and find new people.  Not a hassle as in going up to people and striking up a conversation, it’s just a hassle to go out.  After roaming the streets waiting for an empty cab to pick you up, waiting in traffic when you finally get a ride, and scoping out the scene I’m exhausted before I ever even get my first drink and I’ve already spent $20 and an hour out.  Let alone my friends here are all dudes.  That’s problem #2.  I’m missing the token partner in crime.  

When Lucky was here we had a blast.  We were meeting people left and right and it was the first time since I had moved to the big city that I gave a guy my number.  When I’m out with a group of guys it’s like no one will come up to me because I’m standing there with 3 dudes, but then I don’t feel comfortable going up to hot guys because what do I say? Hey do you wanna come do some shots with me and my friends…Anth, JM, and Doogie? You guys will have tons in common! You all have weiners.

I guess my first step, as lesbian as it sounds, would be to meet a single girl to go out with.  Then we can go out and meet guys.  I do have Jess, but she’s one of those girls.  And by those girls I mean she is the type of girl where yes she is a cute girl, but she’s no prettier than me or any other girl, but some how she gets all the guys.  Yeah, maybe it’s because she can’t handle her booze and gets drunk after one drink and guys think shes easy or maybe it’s because she makes it a point to eye fuck the shit out of every guy that she thinks is attractive.  Maybe a little of both.

But while we’re being honest, I don’t think my soulmate/person I’m going to marry is in this city – I’m here for my career.  100% of the guys I have met in this city are into themselves and themselves only and I am not into that.  It’s exactly like college.  The only thing they do on the weekend is party and get laid. 

For example, 2 weekends ago I had plans to go to the beach and hang out with Jess.  After the beach we were going to come back get ready and go out for a girls night. 20 minutes before she’s supposed to be at my apartment she calls me and says she’s bringing her friend Mary, fine with me. 

When she gets to my apartment she informs me that we’re going to meet her flavor of the week, his friend, and cousin at the beach and they want us to bring a bottle of alcohol and they will get chasers.  Unfair, but whatever I have an exccess of booze from my days as a liquor promoter so I grabbed a bottle of that and we were on our way.

We get to the beach and first I meet Jess’ flavor, he’s cute but totally into himself and barely paid her any attention all day long because he was busy picking up other girls on the beach right in front of her face.  I mean why wouldn’t he? She had already slept with him on their first date so there’s nothing else to look forward to.  So he got wasted (off of my alcohol) and wandered around looking for his next piece of ass.

While on the other hand, his cousin (to my surprise, was The Bed Wetter) and friend had their sights focused on me.  Before the friend ever heard me speak a word had already told Jess that he liked me, and Jess had already conveyed the information to me.  Like no, he doesn’t like me, he likes the way I look and wants to fuck me.  After I started the down slope to 30 I decided I’m not dealing with guys like that anymore because they’re the assholes that will inevitiably fuck me over.  Because honestly?  What in the hell makes this guy think he even stands a chance with me?  Not that I am some beauty queen awesome person who thinks they’re better than everyone else, but you really think we are 12 years old and you can tell my friend you like me and I’ll just rip my clothes off?

This is what I mean, every guy here is full of themselves.  If they have a corporate job they think they’re awesome and they can get any girl that their stone cold hearts desire.  No thank you.

So anyway, I’ve made the executive decision that once I’ve been at my job for 1 year (January) I’m going to start the job search again.  I think I’ve proven to anyone that gives a shit that I can make it in the big city and now I’m over it.  If I’m ever going to get married and settle down I don’t want it to be with one of these full of themselves assholes who will probably have an affair with his sexretary. 

The people here aren’t good people, and that’s what I need in my life.  I’ve prooven myself and there’s 5 months left on the clock, so here you go Big City… it’s your turn. 

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The Rhyming Big City Adventures of Gizzy and Lucky

A poem to re-hash our weekend in the big city, full stories to come later:


Twas the night before Lucky’s birthday when she was set to arrive

Airline complications occurred and she wished she could drive

For she was stuck, overnight, in a land called Texas

Lucky for her she met a chap at a bar who drove a pretty sweet Lexus

With only the clothes on her back, the day of her birth she arrived

For she had made it, thank god she survived

It was time to drink, beer one, beer two, not yet

For Lucky’s bag was still on the jet

A second trip to the airport started the day off right

We found Lucky’s bag, it had made the flight

Back to the apartment we went

Where we found an underage gent

“Take a shot, take a shot” he spattered

With all these young boys, we were sure to get flattered

We drank the day old, then washed our hair up right

For it was time to hit the town for the night

We had an occasion to celebrate, our dear friend Lucky

There was no way this night could be sucky

Off to dinner we went, a sushi place, our fave

Get Lucky a birthday cake, that there, the chocolate wave

Dinner was good, now to concoct phase II in our head

I know! Let’s paint the town red

To bar 1 we went, the drinks were ordered, the atmosphere was set

Too bad there were no boys around to make us wet (ehhh…sorry, there was 1 but he didn’t rhyme)

Bar 2, on Gizzy, on Lucky, on Cabby, and fro

Keep these drinks flowing so we can act like a ho

Danced the night away we sure did

At Bar 3 we met a man dressed as a kid

His name was Danny, and a billionaire he claimed to be

Then he fell, taking the table down, and banging his knee

We felt good, just enough beers to blur the lights

Lets head back to my place and start some fights

To my apartment we went, not sure what we’d find

We walked in and saw a guy’s behind

Someone’s in my bed, who could it be?

An old friend, wake up, come play mouse trap with me

Continue drinking we did as we set up the game

And heard stories that would surely ashame

One last surprise before we call it a night

A birthday cake, 26 candles gleaming with light

There were just enough people to sing her a song

Blew out the candles Lucky did and wished for a dong

Off to bed we go, an early day it will be

We have lots of new attractions and boys to see!

Day 2 began with a flutter

Thank god the smell of alcohol didn’t make us shutter

We left for a ball game, who would win, we don’t know!

As it was just our luck, today the cab business was slow

We walked, and walked, and finally got a ride

We arrived at the game gleaming with pride

Looked around we did, for a scalper with tickets

It was not our day, all we heard were crickets

Back in the cab we went, onward to a festival we go!

We were ready to see the beer flow

The beers were all drank, the food was all eaten

Next up, to the sub-way, lets hope we don’t get beaten

Onward we marched on the way to the train, where we found a small pub

We walked in and what did we see? Girls, with boobies and flub

A beer and a shot we had

Until we decided it was time to return to my pad

To my abode we arrived

To find nothing, but a bunch of guys who were deprived

They begged us to drink, so drink we did

Until we got drunk

And along came a punk

Bill was his name

Football was his fame

But, he was a douche and lame

Next it was time for a roast

The groom to be, step up, he thought it was a toast

We all said our piece, and the boom boom started

It’s not what you think, no one farted

For they were fireworks, right there

We got lucky none landed in our hair

We all watched in amazement, for they were the best fireworks ever!

Well, that’s done, on to the next endeavor

On to the bars we go

We still haven’t acted like a ho

All dolled up we got

We looked damn hot

Down the stairs we went

To find nothing, but a guy with a weird accent

We had been left, oh well, these fools won’t ruin our fun

We were still going out, in our mind we won

At the bar we sat with our drinks in hand

When along came a girl, she wanted to be our frand (Um, I know… I’m lame)

Her name was Miranda and we loved all the shots she bought us

If we had only knew, her boyfriend would make a fuss

We closed down the bar and trotted home

Passed out in bed and silenced the phone

In the morning we awoke ready to start the day

We gathered our things and were off to play

We arrived at the beach to celebrate the USA

We drank some more, fought with some kids, and peed on the beach, hey hey!

The day was over and it was time for the fireworks

We walked and walked until we arrived, we sat down with our drinks and put on a smirk

We watched the fireworks in awe

Then trampled inside hoping not to fall

We got some dinner, some wine, and we on our way

We arrived back home, for Lucky was ready to lay

The next morning arrived and some sad pups we were

It was Lucky’s last day, I sure would miss her

We went to the carnival and rode some rides

We were quite proud, this weekend we made great strides

Off to the airport we went, to tell Lucky goodbye

She hopped on her plane, she was ready to fly…

 

THE END

 

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I’m being office sabotaged!

It’s the moment you’ve all been sitting on the edge of your chairs waiting for since Tuesday.  Drum roll please…. MY LUNCH WITH CORNED BEEF.  Annnd the crowd roaaars.  I’ve been wining and dining myself tonight, clearly.  But on to the story…if you haven’t read my post from last week about an email I got from a co-worker it may be helpful to catch up on the situation before reading the rest of this.

Tuesday quickly rolled around this week, and that morning I was so nervous I could hardly do any work before lunch.  I was texting Lucky on my way to work about how sweaty my hands were and I wasn’t even there to feel out the vibe yet.  When I did get to work I was there for a few hours and Corned Beef finally showed her face at my desk to ask if I had any questions.  She was normal.  Hrmmm.  She went back to her desk, then sent me an email:

11:30 sound ok for lunch?

I told her yes and then immediately texted Lucky saying how weird it was that she would email me that and not ask me when she was at my desk 2 SECONDS before that.  She definitely didn’t want anyone to know we were going out to lunch.  

Finally 11:30 rolled around, we made small talk on the way to the elevator and as soon as we stepped outside shit got cray cray.

“So the reason I didn’t want to talk in the office is because I didn’t want Cigarello to hear.”

Which was kind of what I had figured and I told her that.  Then she proceeded to tell me that she thinks he was trying to sabotage and mess up my accounts to make himself look better because she had found 40 pages worth of mistakes he had made on over 500 accounts (that’s half of my accounts, in case anyone was wondering) and it’s taken her 3 weeks to get it corrected.  She said she informed all of the bosses that it wasn’t me who was messing up that it was Cigarello.  I guess this is the exact same thing that the guy who I replaced got fired for, so it was some need to know info for me.  She didn’t want anyone to come to me accusing me of messing everything up and trying to fire me over it when I really did nothing wrong.

She proceeded to inform me that I’m doing a really good job and catching on really quickly but that I do need to watch out for Cigarello basically that he is crazy.  Which I have been starting to catch onto since he ran his face into the window a few weeks ago trying to look at the clouds and is still talking about it 3 weeks later.  

Apparently when she sat at my desk he would listen in on her private phone calls concerning her health and things of that matter and go and tell everyone and would just make laps around the office for no apparent reason.  Not to mention it’s super creepy and weird when he pops his head up over our half wall and just stares at me, just like Wilson – only creepier and weirder:


Personally I wouldn’t ever take/make any call that I didn’t want people to over hear at work, but I get what she’s saying – a grown up wouldn’t run and tell all their friends that Corned Beef has a bad heart and might die soon and then come back and look over the half wall like a child molester who just got caught with his hands down his pants.

But as we were entering the holy grail of lunch spots swarming with young hot doctors she tells me that Cigarello used to work at the Press at our company for 18 years and got fired for sabotaging his co-workers.  He’s friends from high school with our boss’ boss (the one who gave me the best baseball seats ever) and that’s how he got the job in our office, he doesn’t even have an accounting background.  Well that explains why he sucks at his job, but not so much why he sucks as a person.

So she went on to tell me some other Cigarello tid bits about how he has mastered the art of turning a professional phone call into a personal one, which I’ve noticed and I’ve also noticed he calls everyone he knows if he’s leaving an hour early or taking a day off.  She also said basically everyone hates him so I shouldn’t feel like other people won’t like me if I’m not nice to him. Pretty much solving all my problems 1 by 1.  

When we got back I saw all of the boss’ go into the conference room with Cigarello for the rest of the afternoon (we’re talking at least 3 hours.)  I crossed my fingers and wished on my lucky stars that he would get fired but he was still there today being annoying and weird as ever.  

The good part is I think my boss thought I was the one fucking everything up and now that she realizes it wasn’t me she has been overly nice to me.  She even came to my desk at quarter to five and asked why I was staying late.  Um you don’t have to tell me twice, I’ll leave.

Anyway, the moral of the story here is that Corned Beef is a nice lady and my friend like I thought and hoped, she was just looking out for me and wanted to make me aware of the situation.  She even sent me an email today asking if we could make going out to lunch a more regular thing so that we can get out of the office and she can introduce me to more people.  I agreed, especially considering when we walked into the young doctor lunch hot spot I nearly fainted and told her I was husband hunting for my dear friend Lucky and I while we chatted.  Hopefully she can introduce me to a few prospects, or at least a few friends more my age.

The end.   Wasn’t that a nice happy ending? For now…

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Chunky Salsa is the DEBIL!

Well, my tampon story didn’t go over so great, so I guess I’ll keep my blogs to men, work, and tiny mexican growths on my back.  I know people have said it before, but why in heaven almighty is there not parenting laws and guidelines that are MANDATORY in order to be a parent/own a child?

Saturday I gained a greater appreciation and a lot more respect for my little sister.  It was her 7th birthday and like any onlyish child she is spoiled.  She has everything a 7 year old could ever want, and gets anything and everything she sets her eyes on.  She’s a good kid though, she obeys, does well in school, and is generally respectful to minorities and elders.

In the spirit of rotten onlyish children and 7th birthday’s my mom threw my sister not 1 but 2 birthday parties.  She let her have her first boy/girl friend party at Chuck-E Cheese on Friday night, and Saturday was the family party where I got to invite my friends that have kids.  When practically everyone in the family broke the news to my mom that they had other plans they let my sister invite one of her friends along to the party, we’ll call her Chunky Salsa.

Chunky Salsa came over to our house about 2:30 when the party didn’t start until 4.  I thought it was going to be ok, they’d keep each other entertained and I could do my thing, nbd.  As soon as Chunky Salsa walked in the door Ella said to her, “Hey wanna see my sister?” As if she had been talking about this alleged “sister” at school for 2 years and all of her friends called her out on her imaginary sister bluff.  Chunky Salsa stomped in and asked if I’m Ella’s real sister?  When I told her yes she took it upon herself to plop down next to me and grill me about my effing life story.  6 years old, and asking questions like, “How much money do you make?”,”Why aren’t you married?”and “Why don’t you have any babies?” OK! I get it I’m a loser! Now, shut your pie hole you little chimichanga.

I retreated upstairs to my “room” which since I moved out has become a toy/play room and Chunky Salsa followed me with her spotlight and list of questions.  I politely told her to get the fuck out so I could put my swimsuit on for the party and she questioned it.  It was at that point when I realized what I was dealing with here.  A stage 5 clinger.  Until we left for the party all I heard was, “Ella where’s your sister?”, “Can I sit by your sister in the car?” Blah blah blah blah blahhhhhh!

Please spare me the child pity party and don’t go all, but you’re a role model she looks up to you, because that is a pile of horseshit. I’m a role model to my sister who knows me. Not to Chunky Salsa who met me 5 seconds ago, who is clearly a follower, and would snort a big pile of crack off the back of a toilet if I told her to right now.  mmmNO.

Finally the party was underway, Betty showed up with her 3 year old little girl and we got in the pool.  Immediately Chunky Salsa was up my ass hanging off me like a damn monkey.  I kept trying to bribe her with false promises that we could hang out later if she’d just go play with the other kids while I caught up with Betty and gawked at the hot lifeguards, no go for big C.S.

I’m sure everyone is feeling sorry for Chunky Salsa right now because she’s a little girl and why don’t I have a heart for this poor little girl who clearly needs attention.  Umm because she fondled my boobs, that’s why.  Between climbing up my back like a fucking monkey and interrupting mine and Betty’s convo to tell me she “forgot what she was going to say” she felt me up and I am NOT ok with that.  So I went into ditch Chunky Salsa mode.

Eventually I conned her into acting like an adult and going down the slide non-stop like the rest of the kids and she left me alone for the last 30 minutes of the party.  Then came dinner.  I rode with my grandmother to the restaurant to escape Chunky Salsa for 5 minutes and she threw a fit because she wasn’t allowed to ride in my grandma’s car.

Then, when we got to the restaurant she had to sit next to me, which is whatever… I mean my sister does that, but it’s my sister and it doesn’t bug me when she does it because I’m not a stranger like I am to this little girl.  Like hello little girl, come get in my white astro van and eat some of this candy.  No.

While we’re on the topic of street smarts the little girl has absolutely no manners.   I’d like to think when I was 6 about to turn 7 I knew better then to take a handful of cake and shove it into my mouth before dinner was served, and most importantly before we sang Happy Birthday, or even decided it was time for cake.  But not Chunky Salsa,  as soon as we sat down at the table I had enough, she looked at me and said, “I’m hungry.”  Ok you little fat fuck what the fuck do you want me to do about it? Whip out my teet and give you some lunch? No.  Eat your fucking napkin, I don’t care.  So I ignored her and she started repeating it non-stop until I looked over and screamed, “OK! Well you’re just going to have to wait!!! We just sat down!”  And that’s when she got up and helped herself to a heaping handful of cake.  Then proceeded to eat like 8 pieces of pizza and 3 more pieces of cake, I’m not one to judge but no fucking wonder the child is fat – I can’t even eat that much.

The party was dwindling down and after I finally pulled my mom to the side and told her if Chunky Salsa said one more word to me I was going to punch her in the face and not go to jail for it things slightly improved.  Until I picked up my purse to go to the bathroom and Chunky Salsa’s Gizzy’s on the move radar went off and she ran over and was all, “Where you going?” When I said to the bathroom she was all oh I’m coming with you and I was like, um nevermind I’m waiting.  Like really? I can’t even go to the bathroom alone? She would’ve wanted to come in the stall with me and that’s just weird, I already had to explain periods to her when she went through my purse without asking and found a tampon, like the question and answer portion of this day is over.  I am done.

Honestly, this just scared me out of having kids, like ever.  If my kids ever grew up to be like Chunky Salsa I would sell them and buy myself a new 2 seater.  NoThankYou.

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Who put the girl with the black eye in charge of the 150 million dollar account?

I’m back to report I’m barely alive after my workout sesh with Annie get your roll on Wednesday night.  Fat people might be fat but they know how to boss people around, she had me jumping, laying on some giant ball like a retard, balancing on some half ball, I mean stuff I would never even think to do at a gym.  Every single inch of my body is sore to the point where it hurts me to text or even breathe.  Honestly, my favorite part were the stretches at the end of the workout, because I got to be lazy.  I didn’t have to hoist my foot over my head, Annie get your roll on did all the work for me and it felt awesome.

So after death by exercising Annie get your roll on took me to meet her boss, Dave.  Dave sat me down and explained all of the different training packages Bally’s offers and even gave me a little tutorial on how they rank trainers versus the rate they charge.  Basically, the ones that suck get $45 a session, the ok ones get $55, the mediocre ones get $65, the good ones get $75, and the ones that will make you want to die get $85.  Annie get your roll on is in the mediocre section and they recommended I come twice a week.  You do the math.  I want to look good for beach season and all but I’m sorry I do not have an extra $600 a month lying around to pay to Annie get your roll on so she can shove twinkies in her face while she tells me how to get skinny, I mean I don’t need to lose weight, I could stand to tone up a little but I was thinking I could do this once or twice learn a few things and then go out on my own and get my beach bod.  Annie get your roll on and boss Dave insist I’ll get lazy and won’t push myself like Annie get your roll on will.  True, but I don’t care.  $600 a month could be my payment on 2 new cars yet I barely have 1.   Not happening.

Not wanting to be rude I told Annie get your roll on and Dave I’d have to go home and fiddle with my budget to see what I could afford (hint: nothing) and I’d let them know.  Dave insisted Annie get your roll on do a free follow up session with me next Wednesday.  I’m not going to say no to free advise but I’m still not paying $600 a month. Eff this noise, Gizzy out.

So I came home and complained to the guys about how I was going to be crawling up the stairs and how they should split the sessions with me so we could all get beach bods together, that was a no go, so I retreated to the shower.

I’m just going to say this once and be done with it, adjustable shower heads are the devil.  The devil I tell you. Anth and Doogie point ours way far up because they’re all tall and stuff and never move it back down to where it belongs for poor little wimpy Gizzy.  Already having the strength of an infant from the workout sesh I turn on the shower get ready to hop in, put my hand on the back wall and the next thing I know I’m eye to eye with the drain, the lower half of my body is in the toilet, I’m seeing stars and I can feel the left side of my face beginning to swell.

So now I have a black eye and I had pretty much the most important meeting of my life today with our biggest client.  I covered it up as well as I could but the swelling was what brought the most attention out of everything.  I thought everyone would get a big kick out of me falling in the shower and getting a black eye out of it but no one really asked how it happened.  People just made comments about bar fights, calling me Mike Tyson, and the zinger from our client, “Who put the girl with the black eye in charge of the 150 million dollar account?” My boss pretty much just ignored all the comments while I hid my face in shame, so I’m hoping they all just think I’m a victim of domestic abuse and don’t want to make me feel uncomfortable so we can just sweep this under the rug and I can come in Monday fresh as a clam.

I decided to go to Target after work to see what kind of winners I could pick up with my new shiners/get some workout friendly materials.  Imagine my surprise after the stellar 2 days I’ve had when I roll up to the checkout with my items and the clerk starts judging my purchases out loud.

Clerk: How old is your kid?

Me: Huh!?

Clerk: You’re buying gummy vitamins and spaghettios, you don’t have a kid?

Me: Ummm, nooo those are for me.

Clerk: Oh, you know gummy vitamins are for kids right?

Me: Uhhh says who? And why are you looking through my things, ring them up I need to get out of here.

Clerk: Laxatives are so bad for you.

Me: Do you have a supervisor or can I just punch you in the face for being a cunty whore right now?

Clerk: I mean I’m just saying.

Me: Give me my bag.

Clerk: Have a nice day!

Me: How about you DON’T! Whore.


So yeah, maybe I was buying gummy vitamins and laxatives but I’m trying to cleanse my body so I can start fresh and why buy vitamins you have to swallow when the gummy ones are just as good and taste better? Of course they were already opened when I got home so I have to take them back.  It was probably that skanky skank clerk trying to poison me. But still, gummys > swalllow kind.

Well, time to go thaw out some steak for my face.

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