Tag Archives: sports

9. If you could change 1 decision you’ve made, what would it be?

I’ve really thought a lot about this.

And really, there’s not many things in my life that I regret doing. I think the saying is true, “You’ll regret what you DIDN’T do, rather than what you did.”

And if I could change one decision, it would be my choice to stay in this state after graduation. Since I moved 14 hours from home right after high school, it wasn’t like I hadn’t done it before.

I remember applying to jobs all over the country because I wanted to move…but I don’t really think I gave it a good try. And then when the job I have now came along, I took it, and here I am…still.

I know I am still young, and I don’t have any REAL attachment here, and I don’t know, maybe soon I can gather up the courage to pack my bags and really shake things up!

I don’t know that I have one specific decision that I regret, but in general I regret never sticking with SOMETHING.

I have dabbled in a lot of different hobbies: gymnastics, basketball, music, tennis, acting, writing, running, etc… so I’m “okay” at all of those things, but I really wish I would have stuck with something when I was younger so I could be like really fucking awesome at it now.  It would be even more awesome if I would have stuck with something that I could have made a career out of, because now I’m an accountant and it’s not fun and really sucks.  

I keep telling myself that I’ll start writing songs on the piano again and things like that.  But what single parent (to one puppy) who has a full time job has time for that? Sigh.

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Wakeboarding Monkey

Today, in an attempt to not bore everyone with a story you probably don’t care about, I’m leaving you with this picture of a wakeboarding monkey…also, my office smells like a straight up toilet and it’s really cramping my writing style.

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Raz-Ma-Taz Weekend Part 1

Before I go into details on my raz-ma-taz weekend away, I need to tell you all a story of something that happened to me on Friday…

 I was sitting in my cube at work minding my own business when the crazy old Asian man came up and striked up a conversation with me, he asked how I am and if I had a lot of work, which the answer is always yes.  He said he does too but he wanted to socialize instead of work.  Well, don’t we all. 

Then he asked if I had any big plans for the weekend, I didn’t want to go into detail about my trip and carry the convo on even longer, so I just said no that I’d probably just be hanging out at home.  Then he asked what I did the night before and makes the assumption that I had a pajama party with my roommates (I have yet to tell him that I live with 2 frat guys) I laughed and said no I just watched tv like I do every night.  He said, “Ohh every night? Until your boyfriend calls up and says lets go do something, right?” I replied, “No no, that doesn’t happen, I don’t have a boyfriend.” He gasped, “YOU DON’T HAVE A BOYFRIEND?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I rolled my eyes, “Nope.” And he said, “No boyfriend, well what are you doing with your life?”

 Like, really? Just because I am still single my whole life is a waste? I wasn’t aware that a single girl in her twenties was such a disgrace to mankind. 

THEN he said, “Is it because of your religion or something?” Like yes, a suburban white girl from America is a part of a religion that doesn’t allow her to date until her parents will her away to a spouse of their choosing.  Come. On. 

 After he offended me and basically told me to go kill myself because I have no reason for being in existence unless I’m in a relationship, he spilled coffee all over my papers.  Just seriously, get the fuck out of my cube.  Christ.

Anyway, the weekend away for the football game was a freaking BLAST.  I really needed it, and although I was hesitant to go I’m so happy that I did.  I haven’t laughed that hard in YEARS.  My stomach muscles are sore just from laughing.  Anyway, here’s what went down…

We had all planned to meet at Anth’s office in the suburbs around 5:45-6 o’clock to head out.  I work the furthest away from Anth’s office and needed to leave by 4 to get there by 6.  Well, because of a meeting I took with a hot doctor (a story for another day) I didn’t get to leave work until 4:45… awesome.  My plan was to drop my car off at my apartment and take the subway to his office – by the time I got home it was already 5:45, then I spent another half hour looking for a cab to take my to the subway.  No dice.  

At 6:15 I texted Anth to just leave without me because I didn’t want to make everyone wait.  He was all, we’re not leaving without you, just get here.  So at 7:15 I pull up, we got some dinner and off we went for a 2 hour drive.

We got to our hotel about 10:15.  And let me tell you, this place was a GEM.  One of the girls found blood on her sheets and the beds were all like mini-sized.  Which I wasn’t expecting.  Typically all hotel beds look pretty much the same no matter what hotel you’re staying at.  But these beds were clearly made for midgets and they got a deal on them. The crappy hotel definitely added to the experience though since we were all drunk and afraid to go to sleep.

We ended up going out to an “undergrad bar” and found no attractive people (that means no 21 year old college boys for me to make out with).  Although, Anth did get his butt grabbed twice by passer bys.  

We all got the perfect amount of drunk and closed down the bar.  As I’ve mentioned before, I live in one of the larger US  cities where it’s not necessary to call for a cab.  You just wave your hand and 50 of them appear (except on Friday night).  None of us really took that into account so we were waiting for a good 45 minutes after the bars closed for a cab to come get us.

While we’re waiting we see a rickshaw pass by with a couple in it.  You don’t see a lot of those in the big city (they should probably have them though) and we were all pointing and giggling like, OMG lets find a rickshaw to take back to our hotel. 

Apparently the angry black girl riding on the rickshaw thought we were making fun of her for riding in it and started yelling and hanging out of it being all, “BITCH! It’s cheap. This is what you gotta do in this economy.” And we were just like whatevs and carried on with our conversation. 

The next thing I know the rickshaw driver pulled over and they sat there for a minute.  Then the angry girl got out and walked over and got up in our faces. 

I’m still not entriely sure what she was saying, I just know spit was flying and fingers were being pointed and she kept calling the guys bitches and then she told us all that we were the 1%.   Which pissed us all off.  That whole we are the 99% occupy wallstreet thing irritates the piss out of me to begin with because it’s another thing that people are wasting their time on that nothing will ever come from.  Anyway, we all just told her to get back on rickshaw and leave us alone and that she was cray cray…

  THEN, the coppers showed up… *boop*boop* they jumped out of the car and said, “We’re going to need you all to come with us…”

…To be continued…

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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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Enough is enough

I finally did it.  At approximately 1:45am on Saturday night I blocked Snoop-Linus from facebook.  I know, I know… it’s facebook who gives a fuck, right?  Well this is big and it’s also the only thing that will get through to him that he needs to just leave me alone forever.  What finally pushed me to do the unthinkable?  We’ll have to step back a few months to fully grasp the situation.

All summer I have been getting random phone calls and texts from Snoop-Linus, most of them say he misses me and he loves me yada yada, there’s been a few curve balls in there where he fights with himself over the voicemail and a few I haven’t been able to understand.  98% of the calls are when he’s drunk, half of the texts are from the following days apologizing for the calls, some of the other texts are him asking for his 2 t-shirts that I still have of his back.  Some of them are him asking how I’m doing and all that jazz.

Occasionally when I’m in a deep enough sleep and I don’t look at who is calling I answer the 4am drunk dials.   Which happened when Lucky got stuck in Texas for her flight.  I heard the phone ringing, thought it was her, so I picked up.  Little did I know it was Snoop-Linus calling to tell me he loves me or something.

Anyway, to catch everyone up to speed, last week I finally asked him to stop contacting me.  And gave the whole, “You cheated on me, this will NEVER happen, we will NEVER be together again, because of YOU.  I said I would mail you your shirts, there is nothing else that needs to be said. The end.”

After I sent that text I surprisingly didn’t get a response, and haven’t heard from him since.  Problem solved right? I still haven’t mailed his shirts, and now he’s never getting them back.  They are my payoff for ending it over a year ago and still have to deal with him doing everything he can to get a reaction out of me.

So Saturday rolls around, I had plans to meet up with my friend Jess and go to the beach (stories to come Wednesday) we’re on our way there when she’s telling me that she texted Snoop-Linus because he had told her that him and her ex-boyfriend were going to the beach that day as well.  So she texted him to find out where they would be so we were sure not to be there.  He said he hadn’t talked to her ex since Thursday but said he was still going to the beach.  She asked who with and he replied with some shady answer that didn’t really answer the question and she didn’t hear from him for the rest of the day.

We never saw him, so…good.  Saturday night approaches and Jess says we should go to her friends apartment party.  So we do.  Everyone there was young, extremely drunk, and lame.  Maybe I was the lame one, but I wasn’t drunk, so whatever.  More stories on that Wednesday too, but just know, I was sober and annoyed.  So we go out to the bars.

When we get to the bar I order water because I’m so fucking annoyed/pissed that I’m out with these night ruiners (or so I think).  So I’m sitting there, slurping down my water, looking on facebook when I see it.  A picture of Snoop-Linus and whore #2 posted less than an hour earlier, standing in front of the baseball stadium with the caption, “Happy Birthday!!!”  I was sitting in the bar across the street from the baseball stadium when I saw this picture.  Like literally, looked up from where I was sitting and saw the exact background of the picture that was just taken moments earlier.

I had to sit there and think for a while.  I knew this was coming eventually, I called it.  I told everyone this would happen, not with some girl, but with THIS girl.  Because he’s too big of an asshole and too bad of a person to not hurt me as much as he can.  He has to feel like he’s won.  He has to know he beat me down as much as any one person can beat another person down emotionally.  He has to feel like he’s ruined love for me forever.  And he has to know he made me cry again after I told him I would never cry over him again, so he posted the picture.  Since the invention of facebook and “mobile uploads” Snoop-Linus has uploaded 10 pictures.  1 of them is of his old dog, and 9 of them are from sporting events or skylines.  Not one of them is of a person or people, not once throughout the course of our 2 year relationship did he take a picture of us, let alone take a picture of us and upload it to facebook that very minute.  He knows that this girl is the one person I hate on Earth more than him, he knows that if he puts a picture on facebook of them I’ll see it and I’ll know he brought her to the city, MY CITY, where I live, NOT him, NOT her, ME, for her birthday and that they’re exclusive enough that he took her out to do something special for her birthday.  Not only did he bring her to the city in which I live and work, he brought her to my neighborhood.  The neighborhood that I live in, and the neighborhood and bars that he knows I go out to.  He did this to get to me.

I was pretty overwhelmed with emotions at first.   I didn’t know if I wanted to cry, scream, drink, throw my phone through the window, hook up with the  first guy I saw, do nothing, or go hunt him down and saw off his penis with a butter knife.

I decided all of the above weren’t good options, except the last one, but lets be real.  I asked Jess to come to the bathroom with me, told her what I saw and said I didn’t feel like staying out and I was going home.  #1 Because I did need to cry, and now that I’m on the down slope to 30 I can’t be seen crying in a bar #2 I didn’t want to see them out, chances are if I would’ve stayed out, I would have.  

Jess said she would come back with me so we hailed a cab and the whole time she’s sitting there asking if I know that I’m better than him? Of course I know I’m better than him.  I’m not a cheater, liar, and I don’t use drugs.  I’d say I’m worlds better, but the fact of the matter is… he posted the picture to hurt me.  And it did.  So I blocked his lying, cheating, scumbag ass and didn’t say a fucking word. Post another picture, asshole.  I won’t see it.

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Hey Little Boy, Want a Beer?

As if last week with my black eye, important meeting, and getting reprimanded by a clerk at target on my purchase wasn’t bad enough, it was opening weekend in major league baseball.  We all know that is a holiday to be celebrated.  A group of my friends (roomies included) and I all got tickets for our local team’s Saturday game.  We went to the bar as soon as it opened (10 am) and as expected the day was a drunken mess.

Not only did I see The Bed Wetter with his girlfriend and sister in tow an hour into the day, but I managed to get 10-15 beers down the hatch before things went sour, and thankfully I wasn’t alone.  Between the 9 of us it’s safe to say 150 beers lost their life that day.  I wish we could use the excuse that we’re still in college so that it would be acceptable but we’re not, and it’s not.  We’re adults and people are starting to get married and have kids and by god we need to grow up.

I ran kicking and screaming away from The Bed Wetter after he invited me to get a drink and hang out with them, made my way to the game, grabbed my 2 beer limited per transaction, told everyone in our group the story about The Bed Wetter and how he is a lying cheating assmunch, and hunkered down for the game.

Unfortunately there was a family that posted up directly in front of us.  I thought it would be ok since the girls sat behind the family and the guys sat behind us, it wasn’t.  They had a little girl who passed out in the middle of the game and busted her face on the bleachers, instead of being good parents and leaving to get her face checked out they handed her a napkin and continued to watch the game.  Lucky for them one of the girls that was with us let the little girl lean on her legs to get her nose to stop bleeding.  Unlucky for them, the little boy was sitting in front of me and it’s a good thing he was only 5 or 6 and doesn’t know how awesome beer is because each time I got up I and bought 2 beers he was offered one of them.  I know! I’m so horrible, but I thought it was really funny and I wouldn’t have really given a 6 year old a beer. I’m not a bad person.  The parents finally caught on to him turning around and going, “ICK!! ” And sticking his tongue out and asked that I kindly stop offering their child alcohol, but they laughed it off  and didn’t find security to have me arrested and told him they were proud of him for not giving into peer pressure.  Which made me laugh that they called me a peer to a 6 year old.  Hrmm… :/  Ah, well.

So, the game ended which was when I decided that would be a good time to go to the bathroom.  Anth warned me that they weren’t going to wait for me because they’d get escorted out before I would be able to get back (it wasn’t until after the fact, yesterday actually, that he told me he warned me they wouldn’t be there.  I walked back totally expecting them to still be at our seats.) to get back so to just call them and come meet them.  So I did, which is when the conversation that ruined the day came, it went something like…

Anth: Come to the bar down the street

Me: I don’t know where that is! Come get me!! I can’t believe you left me, wahhhh!!

Anth: It’s right down the street you dumb bitch

Me: DON’T CALL ME A DUMB BITCH!!!

There was a little more, but the dumb bitch part is all that’s still really clear to me.   I hung up on him and texted him that I was going home, then he was all “you would…” And I snapped that I didn’t move in with them to get disrespected, I’m not some dumb skank that they can hump and dump (yeah I don’t know, no humping or dumping has occurred) so don’t treat me like I am.

Eventually he apologized and offered to do my laundry but not after I made the 3 1/2 mile walk back to the apartment, which is also where I found that the hood of my jacket was filled with peanuts and peanut shells.  Thanks friends.  Too drunk to hail a cab or get aboard public transit I unsnapped my hood and continued my journey home while leaving peanut shell “breadcrumbs” along my path.

Something like an hour and a half later I made it home, passed out for the next 2 days and all is right with the world.  So there you have it, my big weekend.  These are the kinds of summer stories you have to look forward to.  I just hope none of them ever end with “and then the cops showed up.”

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I’m not NFL wife material.

I tell you what.  The forces are really trying to keep me from you all these days.  I’m too chicken to get on The Blog at work, for obvious reasons.  No one at my office can know I have an actual personality.  And back at the ol’ dungeon, well, our internet has been down more than it has been up since I moved to the big city, and Anth, our self-proclaimed tech-ie, isn’t doing jack shit to get us up and running.  Yeah, he ordered us a new router and hooked it up, but he is the only one who can get online – so that’s awesome.  Basically this blog is brought to you via a McDonalds parking lot at 6:30 in the morning.  And by god is it worth it.  Nothin’ like enjoying a little bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit, a lil bit o hash brown, some oj, and a nice bloggity blog about my weekend.

Really though, going M.I.A. for a week or so every so often isn’t the worst thing in the world.  In my head everyone is sitting in front of their computers hitting the refresh button just waiting for an update on my fascinating life.

Anyway on to the good stuff, my weekend was quite eventful; I went on a blind date with an NFL player.  That’s right, the normal cheating lying bastards aren’t good enough.  Now, I have to date people who even the Virgin Mary herself would sleep with if given the chance.

It was more of a blind do your friend a favor so it’s not totally awkward and I have an escape plan if this goes terribly wrong double date.  My friend Celia was asked on a date by a guy she went to high school with and some how I got roped into it because she didn’t want to go alone and who better to set The Gizzy up with to really teach her a life lesson than an arrogant 23 year old NFL player who has been around the block.  Twice.

The adventure started out seemingly normal.  We downed your standard 2-3 bottles of wine ate some pasta and some steak then I threw up a little in my mouth when I realized where our dinner conversation had gone.  It went something like so…

NFL: So, Gizzy what do you do?

G: I work with research foundations, what about you?

NFL: I play in the NFL.

G: Oh, that’s nice.

NFL: Yeah, I only live here a few months out of the year.  Do you like football?

G: Not really.

NFL: What sports do you like?

G: I guess basketball.

NFL: Oh speaking of basketball, a few weeks ago I hooked up with Big City Butts Star Player’s fiancé.  It was so funny.  ‘Cause then, Big City Butts Star player called me up and was like, “Hey man wtf I’m going to come kick your ass.” And I was like, “Man I can take you, here’s my address, my door’s unlocked for you bro.”  Pretty much the funniest day ever.

G: Sounds like it.

I’m guessing the date was pretty much over when I said I didn’t like football.  I checked out after this point and just made it my mission to get as drunk as possible courtesy of this guy.

After dinner I had a decent buzz when they said we were going to go by one of their friend’s places to drink a few beers before we went to the club.  Fine by me.  The more booze the better.  Bring it onnnn!! I was planning on testing how much alcohol I could drink before getting embarrassing.  El experimente!

We were finishing up a game of pool when Celia pulled me aside:

C: OMG! Did you hear them talking about doing Molly? (For those of you who don’t know Molly is ecstasy but some kind of pure/supped up version from what I’ve heard.)

G: NOOO!!! Do you think they did it?

C: I don’t know, they went in the room for a while with the door closed.  If they did let’s get out of here.

G: How do we tell? Do the pupils get bigger or smaller?

C: Bigger.

G: Ok you distract them I’ll look at their pupils.

If the date wasn’t already headed for the dumps the next plan of attack would have for sure ruined any kind of connection I had with this guy.

Celia pulled them over and asked them to look to see if her retainer was still stuck to her teeth.  Alas, their eyes were focused.  3 heads trying to look into 1 person’s mouth is not an ideal situation.  Basically they thought I was like the weirdest person ever because while they were looking in Celia’s mouth I was positioning myself so that I could stare perfectly into their eyes and see if I saw any crazy.  Thank god I did not, at least not the kind we were looking for.

When it came time to head to the cluuurbb… Celia and I were both pretty much over it.  NFL was getting recognized by tons of skanks so he had his night pretty much set, Celia’s guy was creepily feeling up on her, so mission get drunk was in full force.  After half a dozen shots we went to the ladies room to re-group.   We decided it was time for a little dinner-drinking date ditch.  That’s right.  We walked out of the bathroom and got straight into a cab, after Celia fell in the middle of the street bringing tons of attention to us, of course.  So there was no awkward goodbye or the pity exchanging of the numbers between NFL and I.  I can’t say it didn’t feel amazing to ditch an asshole that gets whom and whatever he wants and then talks down to people who aren’t ripping their panties off at the sight of him because it totally did.

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