Tag Archives: tv

The Rise and Fall of Crack Day

This past week I got to be the dumper instead of the dumpee.  No, I wasn’t lucky enough to dump an actual guy. I dumped Starbucks, and left it crying on the curb like a little baby.

You see, I haven’t always been a coffee advocate.  After hearing about the Pumpkin Spice Latte for literally the past decade, I decided to give it a try this year.  And then I became obsessed, and then it was all I talked about, and then I got my mom, my aunt, and my 9 year old sister obsessed too and we would have PSL parties on the weekend mornings and run around for the next 6 hours like crackheads in a crackhouse. And then when we came down from our high we would tell each other that we looked like crackwhores. Because we did. Sunken, tired eyes, aimlessly wandering around trying to remember what we needed to do before we drank the PSL. Yes I know, I am a horrible horrible person, I got a 9 year old addicted to espresso. But what the fuck ever, Italians let their kids drink espresso and they turn out all right.


jersey shore

Right?

Then I found this food challenge I wanted to try. It’s 30 days long and while you can have 1 cup of black coffee a day, we all know that the PSL is no where close to being black coffee. So I had to quit. Lucky suggested that I just straight up eat espresso beans like a fiend, but I think for the sake of everyone else I’ll just stop with the coffee all together. 

So that brings us to the breakup. You see, Fridays were my crack day. I would wake up with a shit eating grin on my face every Friday, first and foremost because it was Friday, but also because I got the crack on Fridays. My PSL and my cinnamon roll.

cinnamon heaven

(I’m convinced that in Heaven people swim in PSL and have cinnamon roll pillows.)

Each Friday I would get to work throw my shit down and skip off to Starbucks without a care in the world. After a few weeks my co-workers started to notice that after returning from my coffee run, I would ping from the walls for the next 4-6 hours and get absolutely no office related work done. I became a different person, I was a sociable spaz and told people (everyone, separately) in the office my opinions on things like cloth diapers and flavored beer. No one cared, but they loved it. After about a month of said behavior, when I would come to work on Fridays some would chant, “Crack day! Crack day! Crack day!” The pressure became too much, so when I decided to do the 30 day challenge I had to break it to everyone that the coming Friday would be my final crack day.  They cried, but they’ll get over it. Eventually.

When I went to Starbucks for my Final Crack Day, I broke the news to Jake the Barista (Baristo? What the hell do you call boy Baristas?) that he would not see me for at least the next month, possibly forever if I could withstand it, and that I really appreciated him always warming my cinnamon roll to the perfect temperature, hot enough to melt the frosting but not so hot that it burnt my mouth.  Jake was sad to see me go, he even drew little sad faces on my cup. But at last, we parted ways.

And that is how I dumped the PSL and cinnamon roll. The best relationship I’ve ever had.

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Meet my new kitty!!

943720_10151398530986434_1159808051_nI got a new cat!

If you’re a longtime reader, you know that last summer, I suffered a major loss when my beloved orange cat of 10 years suddenly passed away due to cancer.

I never thought I would get another cat, or any pet for that matter.

I donated all of my previous cat’s items (except for sentimental stuff) to a local shelter a little more than a month ago, and started looking at the cats they had posted pictures of on their Facebook page.

I saw several cats that were cute, but my mom told me to be on the lookout for The One. She said I would know.

She was right.

One Sunday I was looking at an album of new kitty pictures, when I saw a litter they named the Golden Girls litter. Each kitten was named after a character from The Golden Girls (there’s even Stanley).

Have I mentioned that I watch the Golden Girls everyday?

944729_10102300771402695_415425103_nBlanche is my favorite character, so I checked out the cat they named Blanche…and she looked like the cat I had when I was 2—a tortoise shell calico. So. Freaking. Cute.

I immediately jumped on what I needed to do to adopt her. I visited the shelter. I met up with her foster mom. I waited. And waited. Filled out papers. Did the interview. Completed the home visit. Paid the money. And finally, finally, she arrived at my apartment last night.

She immediately got right at home enjoying the new things I bought for her, leopard print food and water bowls, cat bed, and even took a polite piss in the hot green litter box.

Blanche Hollingsworth-Devereaux is quite a rowdy Southern Belle, but I am happy to have some company in the apartment again.

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The Jersey Shore Replacement

I would imagine I’m probably one of the only (if not THE ONLY) of my friends that still watches MTV religiously.  It’s sad, but I love it.  Anyway, I have been really looking forward to the new show “Buckwild”, about a group of friends living on the countryside in West Viriginia.  The commercial that really sucked me in was one where a girl is shooting a potato gun and says, “This is how ya make ‘tater salad in West Virginia.” I think I laughed for 6 days, and said that same line to everyone I know for the next 2 weeks.
 
So last Thursday was the premiere and I couldn’t have been more excited.  I was supposed to go out with a friend that night, but thankfully it worked in my favor that she didn’t text me to go out until 10:15 and I was already snuggled up in bed laughing my ass off. 
 
In the first 2 episodes, “The Girls” get evicted from their house for being too loud, one of them punches a crazy neighbor in the face, that same girl bitches out one of the other girls AND one of the guys for banging in her bed, all the guys want to bang the pants off of “The new girl” – one of them succeeds, “The Girls” move into a new house where they have no neighbors, they all go ‘muddin’ whilst drinking warm beer – get stuck and while waiting for a tractor to come pull them out the girls mud wrestle, then they go swimming in the power plant water – which they deem safe because they’ve swam in it 50 times and only gotten sick twice, then they make a pool out of a dump truck where one girl offers to jump in topless if the guys will pay her $100 – she does it, and they don’t pay her, of course.
 
I was really sad when the Jersey Shore ended a few weeks ago. Why? I don’t know, I can agree that Jersey Shore was one of the stupidest shows ever, but I watched it every. single. week. And just when I thought I was going to have to go back to watching educational tv (LOL), MTV did not fail me, and put a replacement show right up to par in that 10 o’clock slot.  Touche MTV, touche.
 
P.s. I miss my broom closet.  I can’t remember if I told you all about how I got a promotion a few months back.  This promotion brought me out of my then office that was a made over broom closet.  It was small and there were 2 of us crammed in there, with tables as desks and no drawers to put our things in, but at least it was quiet.  Now, I’m in a glorified cube out in our main suite with the rest of my team.  To my right, I have the girl that has the cackle heinna laugh, and to my left is the lady with the foreign accent that talks in an unbearibly loud tone.  Sigh..
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Oh, goodmorning!

So I dropped the ball a lil bitty today by not being able to crank out a post.  You know what? It’s okay though, because what I’m about to show you will totally make up for it.  

A few Saturday’s ago about 3am I was sleeping when I heard a text come through on my phone.  I smiled in my sleep because I WANTED it to be a drunken text from high school crush telling me he loved me.  Instead it was a from a number I didn’t recognize, and the body of the text said this:

If anyone knows this girl, or knows anyone who knows this girl, please apologize for me.  Clearly, at 3am she sent this out to who she thought would’ve been a late night booty call.  Unfortunately for her, I’m the one who received it, passed it around to all of my friends, and am now sharing it with the world.

Good day.

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Who’s The Boss?

BBM Conversation between Lucky and Gizzy on 12/20/2011 11:17 PM

Lucky: There’s a time for love and a time for livin so take a chance and face the wind
Gizzy: An open road and a roaaaaad that’s hidden
Lucky: there were times I lost a dream or two, found a trail, and at the end was you
Lucky: There’s a path you take and the path not taken…
Lucky: A brand new life around the bend
Gizzy: The choice is up to you my friiiiennnd!
Gizzy: We really just did that

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Wack-a-doodle-doo

Chello kids.  In case anyone was wondering, Anth and the girl that stood him up rescheduled their date for Friday – so no funny stories to report on that mess, BLAST!

 

Today I need to discuss a serious issue.  Whore houses.  I’m pretty sure my neighbor is running one, and the right and left sides of my brain are having an all out civil war trying to figure out what to do about it. 

 

When I moved in with the boys last February they sent out an email to all of their friends inviting them to our super bowl party, and when they described how to get to our townhome in all seriousness they said:  “1234 Main Street Unit 5, 2 doors down from the whore house.”  I guess people were supposed to be like, “Hrmm… Main street… hmm… where is that?  OH the whore house, ok got it.”  At the time, I had only been living there for 2 weeks so I didn’t know what whore house they were referring to or if they were secretly talking about me in code with 35 of their closes friends while I was CC’d on the email, so I just left it alone.

 

Let me first say, our neighborhood has been described as “Posh” by the British man Betty forced me to bring home.  Our house is not posh, but the neighborhood is.  And for those of you that don’t speak British, that means nice.  So to me, it was rather unlikely that there would be an actual whore house on our block so all talk of the whore house the first 5 months I lived there got filed away in my brain.

 

When summer rolled around I started to notice random whorish looking girls hanging around outside of the condo 2 doors down looking like they had nowhere to be but on their backs. I took that and the comments with a grain of salt since I had never seen the person that lived in the apartment.  One night, I’m getting myself all tucked into bed around midnight when I heard someone right outside my door saying, “Marcy…Marcy…Marcyyyyyyyyyyyyy I need youuuu!!”  This was when I lived in the dungeon so I wasn’t about to flip on the light and find some cray cray staring in the window at me.  In the morning JM had told me he heard it too and was looking out his window and eventually saw the person go in the Whore House.   That was enough justification for me to believe it was actually a whore house.

 

Later that day I googled, “1234 Main Street Whore House” and found, “Marcy, PhD, Sex Addiction Psychiatrist -1234 Main Street Unit 3” AND “Barry’s Salon and Massage Parlor –  A Happy Ending Massage 1235 Main Street”  So I don’t know, this is either really smart or really mean on Marcy PhD’s part, but it explained a lot.

 

Apparently at the following home owners association meeting someone filed a complaint that Marcy PhD’s coo-coo birds were littering in the courtyard and you know having a business out of her home was illegal in the association, but they’d look past it as long as the crazies kept their condoms and their cigs off of the lawn.  Fair enough, right?

 

Everything was all good in the hood until last night when I heard that familiar song, “Marccccyy…. Marcyyy… I need you!!”  Now that I don’t live in the dungeon I had no problem flipping on my light and sticking my head out the window to see what all the commotion was about.  And when I did, I saw a full grown man, I kid you not, dressed in women’s lingerie.  I get that I live in a big city and I do live near the neighborhood that houses all of the gay bars and some of those gay bars have drag shows so I shouldn’t really be surprised to see a man walking around in lingerie.  Except that it was snowing, and it was 4am and we are a good mile from said bars, and he was barefoot, but you know I probably still shouldn’t be surprised because I’ve seen weirder things in my life.   It was a hard argument for me to not call the cops at 4am on this wackadoo, but I thought… you know Marcy PhD is doing a good thing, she’s trying to help these crazies out and if this guy goes to jail it’s not going to help his disease to get gang banged in the butt all night.  Plus, I don’t want Marcy PhD to get kicked out of the association; I need her to stay there in case I ever get addicted to sex.  Right? It’s a reasonable worry for someone who is 18 months celibate.   

 

And then he reached around into his little knapsack on his back and I thought, “Oh good, he’s going to put some clothes on.  I did the right thing not calling the cops.” And he pulled out a big giant black dildo.  Christ.  There are children in this neighborhood! The children man!!  Honestly, this was so cray cray I could’ve been dreaming, I’m still having a hard time believing I actually saw this happen.  I just couldn’t watch anymore, I turned on my fan to drown out whatever noises he would surely be making and went to bed.  This morning I saw trace amounts of red lace strewn about the lawn, I never heard the cops show up so I really don’t care to know what else happened outside my window last night. 

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