Tag Archives: tv

I told ya, baby… I’m a rockstar

Well, the big photo shoot was on Saturday.  It actually went really well for the most part.  I did all my prep before hand – tan, teeth whitening, mani/pedi, facemask… you get it.  Which was probably too much prep because it didn’t seem like any of the other girls did things like that, but it’s whatever.  I think it was good regardless for me to put some time and money into myself, because it made me feel better.

So I show up at the studio and as I’m walking around to the front of the building I see a photographer in the ally taking pictures of a girl sitting on a dumpster.  Oh, so that’s how this is going to be? I walked up and met the casting agent who cast me for the gig and about that time another girl walked up so we went in to get our hair/makeup done and met the rest of the girls.

Let me elaborate on who I was working with here… There was the heavy set improv actress/comedian, the quiet shy stood in the corner and didn’t say 5 words asian girl, the bubbly fun ditzy blonde, the older wise mom type who only spoke when she had something deep and heartfelt to say, the crazy haired urban token wild black girl, the sweet as pie blonde, the gorgeous REAL actress who is on tv, and me, whatever I am, “the new comer”.  

I walked in with an attitude of, “Okay, I can do this.  I’m stepping out of my comfort zone.  I don’t know ANYONE and instead of being recluse and shy I’m going to break out and make some new friends.”

So as soon as I walked in the door I told everyone how me and “sweet as pie blonde” accidently went into the wrong door and nearly got attacked by a giant vicious dog.  Everyone looked at me, didn’t say a word, and then went back to what they were doing.  Oooook, then.

As more people showed up the mood lightened, but sweet as pie and I clung to each other for the first half hour sharing our stories of how we came across the agency and what we wanted to gain from it.  She had been married for 8 years, was in her early 30’s and needed a hobby to get away from her husband and 3 kids every now and then.  The other thing I learned was that I was the only person in the group who is single.  As per usual.

Eventually, I got my hair done and it looked AWESOME.  It was like wavy/curly and beautiful. The make up? Not so much.  I didn’t have a chance to look at it before I had to go get my first round of pictures so I honestly had no idea how it looked, I just knew that the makeup artist layer caked it on.  The thing is, I’ve had my makeup professionally done a good amount of times and not once has anyone been able to do it where I thought it looked good, so I don’t know why I expected this time to be different.  I don’t know if it’s because I typically don’t wear much makeup or what, but because of my dark hair and eyes everyone takes it upon themselves to put the darkest colors ever on my face and those colors just flat out don’t look good on me.

So I went down to the ally to get my first round of photos taken.  When I went to change into the second outfit and looked in the mirror I nearly pooped myself.  The make up was AWFUL.  I was expecting the dark smokey eyes, which don’t look that good on me to begin with, but I knew she was going to do it.  She also put brown lipstick on me.  I just don’t know what would possess someone to do that?  Brown lipstick doesn’t look good on anyone.

Lucky said it best, “They put brown lipstick in samples because no one buys that shit” EXACTLY!

Honestly it looked like I had been down in the alley munching on a big turd.  Really.  So I wiped it off for the second round of pictures and put my pink lipgloss on, which looked better but brown lipstick is hard to get off, so I had turd colored residue on my lips for the rest of the shoot.  I am just still appalled at the lip color choice.  Ick!

Lucky suggested that maybe she was trying to make me look older, which is a good guess because I was the youngest one there, but I just don’t know.  Gross.

Anyway, once I felt like I looked like a human we went on to the beach to do the group shots.  It was pretty chilly and windy, but I think the beach pics will be good regardless.  They did have us rolling around in the sand, and I’m pretty sure there was a funeral going on about 50 feet away, but whatta ya do?

All in all it was a really good experience and I’m glad I did it.  The girl who does the casting was full of good info.  She’s one of those people that speaks what’s on her mind and 99% of the time it’s something hilarious.  She’s worked a lot in Hollywood and has been in a lot of movies and was telling us that she can walk into a room and tell everyone who they’d play in a movie.  I was the love interest/girl next door/secret geeky star wars fan , the wise mom was the smart always wins lawyer, the impromptu actress was the witty barista, the quiet asian was the secret serial killer, sweet as pie was the over emotional too involved mother… and she gave us all a part to play in our shoot too and even offered to let us use her name in the biz, because “she knows everyone”.

What really got me going was while we had a little bit of down time the actual tv actress was yammering on about all of the gossip with the other actors and actresses on the show that she’s on, which I thought was HIGH-larious.  If it were me, I probably wouldn’t have been saying that stuff in a room full of strangers, but being on the receiving end it was pretty exciting.  That is until she whipped around and asked me, “So what do you do? Are you an actress?” To which I had to hide my face and shame at all the other people who actually are actresses and make a living doing it and say, “No, I’m an accountant…”

All in all, it was a good time, I met some nice people, and got my foot in the door doing something that’s 1 million times better than sitting behind a desk with a calculator all day.  SUCCESS!

 

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When animals in your home attack…drown them in the toilet.

Hello dear readers.  Let me set the mood for this next story… it is approximately 3:45 AM on Friday morning August 12th, my heart is racing and I will not be going back to sleep, ever.  I was just ripped from my sleep by the most unsettling noise I will ever hear, so I have nothing left to do but blog.

Here I am, sleeping my little heart away and it’s 3.5 hours before I have to be up for work when I hear it.  Plastic bags rustling.  It instantly woke me.  I laid here in my bed for a few moments as I listened for it again, and it happened.  I shot up and flipped on my lamp – looked at the plastic bags…nothing.  Then out of the corner of my eye I saw movement in the corner.   And there it went across my floor:

A white mouse.   This isn’t your ordinary mouse.  This is a pet store mouse.  Yep…like one for the snake.  This means 1 of 2 things:

#1.  Doogie left the lid off his snake cage and any moment I am going to see the snake catapult from under my bed to capture his dinner.

#2.  This fucking piece of shit got loose as Doogie was feeding it to the snake and he didn’t tell us.

These weren’t the first thoughts that raced through my head… the first were, what do I do and how do I capture it – preceded by a set of blood curdling screams (to which no one answered).  The following is the only indication that I can semi-handle a situation when under pressure.

I grabbed one of the plastic bags, wrapped it up tight and marched up to Doogie’s room ready to turn the heat on.

That’s right.  The heat is ON mother fucker.  When Doogie wasn’t in his room I didn’t know what to do, should I throw it in the snakes cage, should I take it outside and let it go? Neither of these scenarios seemed like a good idea to my brain that was momentarily made of mush.

This is your brian when you get woken up at 3:30 in the morning by a mouse:

So what do I do?  The next best thing, wake up Anth.  He’ll know what to do.  So I walk down the hall to Anth’s room with the plastic bag extended as far away from my body as possible, knock on his door and say… “Anthony, I need you to help me.”  He replied with an annoyed,  “Ughh…wha-uuuut?!” and I could hear him in there mulling around (probably looking for boxers) for what seemed like 2 minutes, glad we weren’t getting robbed and I didn’t have a gun to my head.

He finally opens the door and I cry, “I don’t know what to do.  There’s a mouse in this bag. It was in my room. Take it.  Get it away from me. Take it away.  Kill it.  I don’t care.  I’m gonna throw up. I’m dying.”

Anth takes the bag and the next thing I see is the mouse climbing out of the top of the bag.  I start with the blood curdling screams again… “WHA WHA WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?? AHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHH STOP IT!!! GET IT!!! GET IT!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I’m having a heart attack.  Really, this is what death feels like.”

Anth stood there giggling at me as he threw the bag and the mouse into his and Doogie’s bathroom and started questioning me.  

“Did you find this on your pillow?” He asked.

“This is not a time for jokes, Anth.  I really think I might be hyperventilating.”  I said.  You see, before I moved in this happened once before.  Doogie went to feed his pointless and meaningless snake some mice for dinner and one got loose.  Instead of telling everyone, Doogie didn’t say anything and Anth went to go to bed and found a little friend crawling across his pillow.  I don’t know if Anth went off on Doogie like I am going to, but I’m going to make him wish he was dead.

Anth went into the bathroom to capture the beast and this was when I started feeling my face for new wrinkles that had formed that very second and I realized that I had put a face mask on before I went to bed.  Not your normal all over face mask, this was a spot treatment.  No wonder Anth found the situation so comical.  Here I was a face masked freak, wearing no bra, freaking out over a mouse.

Anth’s in the bathroom talking to himself, thinking he lost the fucker when he found it behind the toilet.  This is when the light bulb in my head went off.  “YES!!! PUT IT IN THE TOILET!!! IT WILL DROWN!!!!”   I had already told Anth I didn’t want him feeding it to the snake because I didn’t trust him to put the lid to the cage on properly and the next thing you know the snake would be in my room choking me out for killing its dinner.  

I’m standing in the hallway taking my pulse as Anth makes sure the mouse doesn’t get out of the toilet and he feels bad for it.  “Aw, poor little guy is hanging on for dear life.”  He says.  “ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? FLUSH IT!!!!” I replied.  So he does, then he starts in with these crazy accusations that he hopes the snake isn’t loose too.  So he goes up, I hear him messing with the snake cage as I stood on the stairs…. “Is it in there? Is everything ok? I can’t look at it.  I’m going to throw up, this is crazy, I’m going to die, I’m going to get eaten by tiny mice and snakes.  I might faint.”  Anth wasn’t replying which worried me.  He finally came down and assured me that the snake was in the cage and everything was intact.  

Anth said he was going to sleep and I walked to my room and began plotting the demise of Doogie.  

Now here it is almost 5am and Anth just left for boot camp.  He’s annoyed with me asking questions about the scene he found in Doogie’s room since I’m trying to be a detective and figure out if Doogie knew the mouse was loose.  Either way, he needs to get that shit in check.  I sent him the following email since he cowered away to his girlfriends for the night:

To: Doogie, Anth

From: Gizzy

Subject: WTF

Doogie.  What the fuck.  Guess what woke me up at 3:30 this morning?  A fucking mouse.  That’s right, I am not happy.  You owe us SO big!! Me for getting woken up by it and capturing it (I may never sleep again) and Anth because I had to wake him up to dispose of it.  Shit listed, Doogie.  Shit listed.

Anth thinks we should tell him he can’t have his girlfriend over for 3 weeks in order to make it up to us.  I’m thinking something more along the lines of he needs to get rid of the snake since he obviously can’t keep it’s live food under control and his roommates are the ones that have to suffer when the fuckers get loose.  Seems fair right?  It’s happened before, it will surely happen again.  When there is a problem find a solution.  Problem:  How to not have your roommates get woken up by mice running around  Solution: Get rid of the thing that eats the mice so you don’t have to buy them.  DING DING DING!! I’m pissed.  I fucking hate men.  The only reason to have a snake is to make up for a small penis to make yourself feel more adequate.  End of story.  

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FOX stole my life

Did everyone just luuuurrrrveee the JERSEY SHORE last night? I did, I know it wasn’t very eventful but it was a good teaser.  My new goal in life is to get PaulyD to retweet my tweet or write me back.  It’s going to happen.  And when it does it’s going to be… AWESOME!

While watching the Jersey Shore last night I saw a preview for a new show on fox… “The New Girl”  It’s about a girl starting over and moving in with 3 guys.  Sound familiar? Yeah, that’s because it’s MY LIFE!! WTF FOX!!!

Yes Fox, you’re welcome for your new smash hit.  Do blog entries count as a poor mans copyright?  Think I could get them to hire me on as a writer?  Like hey guys, been there done ALL OF THIS! You know what though, I bet they don’t make her live in the basement for 6 months to earn her keep before giving her 4 walls and a door.  I’ll be curious to see how the story pans out, I would put money on 2 seasons from now she’s dating one of the roommates.  We shall see.

What do we think about people in the office who make their email signature look like an actual signature.  For example:

Dear Gizzy:

If you are ever in need of my services please do not hesitate to contact me.  Thank you.

Sincerely,

Pooper Scooper

Executive Director of Scooping Poopies

Personally, I’m not a big fan of it.  I think it’s unprofessional and makes you look like you have a lot of time on your hands.  But I’ve been noticing like EVERYONE that I email with at work does it.  Am I retarded and missed the memo that creating a fake e-signature is in? Like if you’re going to go to this much trouble why not type out the whole GD email in word, print it out, sign it, and then PDF or fax it to me? I just do not understand the purpose of using a different font for their name.  Baffling.  Granted they’re all old and amazed at all the cool things computers can do.  Just know that I had to look up how to do HTML coding in order to make this point and get that handwriting font to show up, so appreciate!  There’s more where that came from, friends.  

The best part of this is that I wrote all of the above about people being big gay wads with their cursive email signatures last night (Thursday) and a few minutes ago (on Friday) we received this email from CFO:

All,

Staff should use an e-mail signature on e-mail correspondence.  We have chosen the standard e-mail signature format below and include instructions to create a signature.  Please create or update your existing e-mail signature to reflect the e-mail standard example below using Calibri font, size 10, black, with no background, color or graphics.  At your department manager’s discretion, you may be asked to include department specific information.

Standard e-mail example

Jane Doe

Department Administrator

Company XYZ

Department ABC

123 Main Street- Suite (your suite number)

Partyville, USA 12345

T (555) 123-0000

janedoe@company.com

Looks like I wasn’t the only one that noticed all the tool bags making us look unprofessional.  Touche my good man CFO.  Touche.

Speaking of work, it’s been far too long since anything embarrassing happened to me while on the job.  Until today.  I’m walking to the copy machine with a pile of $1,000,000 checks to copy and my heel gets stuck in the cuff of my oh so stylish pants, the express flare leg dress pant.  I go to take a step and I felt it happening and said… “OH NO!!!” as I went down using the file cabinent to brace my fall.  It held me up so I didn’t completely faceplant.  But while I’m using all my strength and will to hold myself up using the file cabinent and while simultaneously trying to get my heel unstuck from the cuff of my pant leg a group of businessmen walk by to go to the conference room for a meeting (Little Mikey included) and the old asian man is standing there watching my struggles and asking if I’m ok.  It’s really a wonder that I’m still here and not off in a corner somewhere ugly girl crying.  So this has taught me a lesson, I’m officially too old and too clumsy to try and look stylish and cute while at work.  If I had on my high waters this wouldn’t have happened, or if I had been wearing flats this wouldn’t have happened.  It’s what I get.

Happy Friday everyone!  Thank god.

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Single and ready to mingle

If anyone pays attention to our comments section as diligently as I think you all should you would have read that Anth is so excited about me moving to the city (yes, after I just whined that no one is excited to hang out with me everyday) that he has signed us up for a singles cruise.

I don’t know diddly squat about where it’s going or when it is, all I know is that I’ll be on it.   Anth sent me a message Tuesday night asking how I felt about singles cruises.  They’re the 8th wonder of the world, that’s how I feel.  So he asked if I wanted to be his date.  I’m not going to point out that taking a date on a singles cruise is totally against the rules and completely defeats the purpose because it’s going to be fun to watch.  He’s  just dumb and pretty, such a catch.

Chances are I will have to take a few of my millions of sick days to be a part of this once in a life time opportunity, but that’s ok.  I imagine I will be sick most of those days anyway.   In all honesty I can 100% see him making me think that this is a singles cruise to the caribbean and it will be like an evening party boat that sits in the harbor while we all speed date.  I know that’s why he’s not giving me any deets.  Bastard!

Annnnd moving right along.  I’m really starting to get the feeling my posts are like the news.  I just look in a different direction and think it’s ok to start talking about a different story.  Oh well.

I had to get lippy with my rental agent today.  I found an apartment that is within my price range and is beautiful and if I could marry it, I would.

He keeps getting all snappy with me being all, that apartment is too far north for you.  And I’m all LISTEN BUD! I know where it’s at, I can read a map, thank you, but I don’t care.  I want to effing see it, arrite!!?? I finally got him to agree, if I let him show me others that are farther south.  CHRIST! MEN!

I like this place so much that I’m actually nervous someone else will snatch it up before I can even get there to look at it in person. And Anth isn’t helping the situation.  Well for one, he introduced me to the rental agent, so I don’t know why I’m so shocked that I’m getting argued with. But secondly, Anth is discouraging me from getting this apartment because it’s an $18 cab ride to his neighborhood.  I’M SORRY! Since when does the location according to Anth factor at all into where I get an apartment? These guys are just driving me nuts.  Honestly I don’t know why he wouldn’t want me to get it, it’s beachfront.  Mmmhmmm…

And yes, that is a pool.  Beach & Pool = FUN TIMES! None of which his apartment has.  So he needs to STEP OFF.  Annnnd breathe.

The only downfall with this apartment is that bowl for a sink in the bathroom.  I can 150% see myself getting drunk and trying to pick the bowl up and completely destroy the sink/water line.  And I can’t drunkenly leave the water running because it doesn’t have one of those old school overflow drains.  I guess these are issues I should work on.

And I think there’s no bathtub.  Which is only a problem if I feel the need to take some epsom salt baths.  Which I have only ever done once in my life.

Funny story,  remember Mercedes? She used to smoke so much pot when I lived with her that I was sure I was contact high 95% of all days.  One day I got a call from my internship that I was going to be drug tested.  So, after some serious googling, I ran out got some herbal detoxifying tea and some epsom salt to take a bath in to clear my system.  I also drank upwards of 3 gallons of water and ran 9 times in 24 hours.  Which is a sure fire sign that I was contact high because who is that paranoid?  My boss told me before I went to take the test, “Oh Lucy the Blackbeast formerly known as Gizzy, you have nothing to worry about as long as you aren’t snorting crack by the spoonfulls!”  Then my drug test came back with a big fat red flag on it 5 different times because it was diluted.  From the 3 gallons of water.  Which raised suspicion.  Until I weirdly tried to explain that I sweat a lot in my sleep so I’m always afraid of getting dehydrated so I drink a lot of water.  They bought it, but then I’m sure everyone just called me sweaty Betty behind my back.

Anyway yet another meaningless post, I’ll be reporting next week with the adventures of the big city.  It’s moving day!

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Pish posh

It’s Monday at 11:30pm and I just invented beer bongs for Barbie’s, then bonged a beer out of it myself.

Has anyone been keeping up on that MTV show, I Used to be Fat? No? Well, I have! And it’s amazing.  I don’t have anything against fat people, I’ll probably be one someday.  But the people on it make me want to punch them sometimes.  I’m not going to go all, ohhh what the fuck do they expect when they sit around eating cheeseburgers and tootsie rolls all day? Because I sit around and eat cheeseburgers and tootsie rolls all day.  They piss me off because when they sign up for the show they know some ex-army lieutenant is going to be training them and he is going to kick their ass and when he does they whine about it.

This past week Marci used to be fat.  In the beginning we hear Marci’s sob story about how she gets made fun of and can’t shop at regular stores because she’s fat.  Then we meet her trainer Justin, an ex-military hoorah guy.

Day 1 Justin makes Marci want to kill herself.  She threatens to puke on the treadmill if he doesn’t give her a break, so he does and she goes and lies down on the nasty gym bathroom floor.  Justin goes all daddy on her and says, “Don’t make me tell you to get up off of that floor again.  If I have to, I’m leaving and you can stay FAT!” Way to put it plain and simple J-Bone.  Knock her self esteem down 1 last time before she shreds all those pounds.

The next day Justin set up a boot camp outside for Marci, and for about 5 seconds, she sounded like my 6 year old sister, “I don’t want to be outside! I promise if we go inside I won’t complain.  Wahhhhh!!” And Justin had to go into daddy mode on her again, “Well sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to in life.” So Marci whined a while longer but made it through day 2 of boot camp.

Marci had 89 days to lose 90 pounds and she did it, so great for her.  She got some dresses, one that was pretty skank-a-lish and almost showed her coooookaaa (Jersey Shore term for you.) After her final weigh in, Justin tells her how proud he is and how he never thought she could do it because the first day he walked in and she was “sitting in her bed with food all around her looking fat and disgusting.”  This guy really knows how to sugar coat it.  And all is right with the world because Marci is skinny and Justin got a 3 month long power trip.

Anyway, it’s 2 days until the big move and I’m no closer to having a home and no closer to being packed.  At all.  Does anyone want to come be my roommate? I’ve tried convincing Lucky but I don’t think she is taking me seriously.   I’m starting to get a little more nervous about it all.  Pretty much none of my friends are that excited that I’m moving to the city.  They’re all, “Ohh yeah lets get some dinner and drinks next week.”  So chances are I’m going to be sitting in my bed alone every weekend (just like I do now) writing blogs about guys I wish I was getting (Neal Bledsoe.)  WHICH BY THE WAY, I have a way better chance of getting now that I am moving to the city.  Not that he’ll ever be in my city, but it’s a big one and the chances are better.  I’ll have to keep up on my Neal Bledsoe creepy so I know if he’s ever in town.  God, I’m such a stalker.  It would be totally acceptable if he were a real celebrity.  But he’s not, so I fully expect a restraining order.

Anyway, my work friends threw me a going away party on Friday and I nearly cried, no one has ever thrown me a party.  I haven’t had a birthday party since I was 10 years old.  They had a cake, a picture of the cake I was supposed to get with penguins on it but I didn’t get it because the guy that was supposed to pick it up called in sick, a t-shirt, and people I didn’t even think cared about my well being (the salesmen) were coming in from their sales calls early to wish me good luck in the big city and give me their emails so that I could keep in touch.  Here I found all of these people that give a shit about me and now I’m leaving.  I’m pretty sad about it.  I cried, twice.

I was talking to Anth yesterday about who he hangs out with on the weekends because my ideal goal is to move to the city and have a How I Met Your Mother group of friends to hang with.  Anth could be Barney, I could be Lily (because she gets married), and then there’s still 3 openings.  But he told me he hangs out with people we went to college with.  Gross.

That was one of my main reasons for not moving to the city earlier.  It’s like SHIT U all over again.  SHIT U is about 100 miles south of the city so with each graduating class they ship bus loads of them up there.  And the last thing I want to do is relive college.

I liked college, but the few close friends I have in the city hang out with a bunch of douchers.  Douchers=frat boys and sorority whores.  I have nothing against them, but every time I go to visit and have to be in the same room as them I want to kill myself and it is NOT a good time.  They’re just pretty lame.  Doing exactly what you would expect, shooters and picking up anything with a vagina or penis.  It’s really annoying.

At this point in my life I’m really looking for some quality friends.  I need friends who want to eat food before we go out drinking.  Not purge before we go out drinking.  Spanks but no spanks.

Can we start placing bets on how long it will be before I’m back at home hanging out with my sister getting sugar drunk on chocolate milk on the weekends?  I give myself 2 months.

 

P.S. Black Swan looks scary as eff.

P.P.S.  Did everyone see Ron Ron on the Xenadrine commercial? AHHHHAHAHA AND he’s on the website:

Ron Ron also has his own website, complete with fan club.  Which we are members of.  There’s a section where you can “book” Ron Ron for an event.  I’m half tempted to see how much it is to book him to write a blog for us.  I wonder if they charge extra for making him think.  Hmm…

“My GTL routine just got even better.  XGTL baby – Xenadrine.  Gym.  Tan.  Laundry.” – Ron Ron

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Who wants a divorce!

Anotha day, anotha dolla.  Here we are, smack dab in the middle of engagement season, then in the spring comes wedding season.  The real question is, when is divorce season?

Tuesday night I got a delightful little facebook chat from one of my old college flames.  I say delightful because he totally screwed me over but college wouldn’t have been the same without him.   We’ll call him Snatch.

I met Snatch at the beginning of my sophomore year, we had math class together and I thought he was H-O-T hot!  Facebook had been around for 2 days, it was back when there was a section to list your classes and you could click on the class and see who was in it.  So awesome (you hear that Mark Zuckerberg?!) Naturally, I facebook crept until I found out who math class guy was, discovered he was in a fraternity, and blabbed about this guy until my roommate finally found a connection for us to get into one of the frat’s parties that coming weekend.  As soon as we got to the fraternity we told our insider what was up, he took me directly to where Snatch was working, he was on sober patrol working the door.  Snatch recognized me from math class and asked for my number so he could call me when he got off, and he did.  The rest is pretty much history, we dated off and on for the next 4 years, until I went on a spring break cruise to the Bahamas and randomly met Snatch’s girlfriend who went to a different school.  It was one of those, “You go to SHIT U? My boyfriend goes to SHIT U and is a Booger Chi!” “OHHH MINE TOO!” “What’s your boyfriend’s name?” “Snatch Ass.” “Hmm…Mine too.”  I didn’t hate Snatch for long though, we ended up becoming really good friends after I realized being a two timer was the least of his problems and I was better off without him, until he started dating his now fiance, who we also went to college with.  She knows mine and Snatch’s history and has basically forbid him to speak to me.  She nearly had a conniption last year when Snoop-Linus and I stayed at Snatch’s apartment, I mean did she really think we were going to just have a big Gizzy gang bang?

Anyway, Snatch facebook chatted me to see what was up.  One thing led to another and we started reminiscing about the good ol’ college days, then Snatch starts talking about my boobs and how excited he is for me to move to the city, totes inappropriate.

Is it just me or are guys these days proposing just for funsies? Clearly he doesn’t love his fiance that much or else he wouldn’t be reminiscing about an old college flame’s boobs? When I stayed at his apartment with Snoop-Linus they were only dating, but he told me he would probably end up proposing because he was too chicken shit to break up with her because on St. Patty’s day she through a half gallon of vodka at him.   I’d dump her for being a wasteful little cunty.  Hrmph.. all that un-drank vodka, ruined on the floor.

The next day, my mom’s best friend gave me the name and number of her “so cute stepson” who lives in the city that I need to “hook up with so he can show me around,” before I could even act on this, the guy had already added me to facebook.  What do I see when I look at his page? Married. W.T.F!!!!!

Is it just me or is it against some vows to be adding hot girls (clearly, that’s me, baha) to facebook so you can hang out later? My mom’s friend made it seem like he was single, which he clearly is not, and gets you a strike in my book.

What’s a single girl to do!? I need you guys to help snap me out of this funk.

I went to my friend’s tonight to see her new house and her baby before I move to the city.  I could hear myself droning on about how everyone is engaged, married, or in a relationship and since I am single I can’t hang out with anyone who is married or in a relationship because I am the 3rd wheel, and that makes me more miserable then washing out PIMP’s.  She just nodded, and told me she was pregnant and getting a mini-van.

I just don’t know what to do.  I love married people as much as the next guy, but I am surrounded by them.  And no offense to all you marrieds, but how is watching everyone else be married and spitting out kids every 2 seconds supposed to help me meet a guy?

For a while I thought this particular friend didn’t want to be friends anymore because I am single.  She’s all settled down with her hubs, baby, and dogs, in her white picket fence house and only hangs out with other marrieds who have kids and all that biz can’t be tainted when the single wench comes to visit in her hooker boots and v-neck sweater dress, it’ll get the neighbors talking. I won’t lie, I’m nervous to move to the big city but I will be thankful to be around my own kind, the singles.

I’m pretty sure all my taken friends feel sorry for me, I got 3 different invites to be a “tag along” on New Years Eve.  “Come to dinner with us!” “Come over and drink boxed wine!” “Come to this party! There will be cute guys!” Thanks, but no thanks, I’m not a 3rd wheel charity case and I’d rather gorge on chocolate and cry into my pillow, mmkay?

*Side note – A commercial just came on that DISH is getting rid of E! on January first.  What the fuck!!?? My life is over.  I don’t get bravo, I don’t get E!, seriously what the fuck?*

Anyway, my life sucks.  What’s new?

After I gave myself the perfect manicure on NYE I decided to drive to the big city the next day to look at some apartments/attend another big city butts game with Anth Saturday night.

Don’t worry! It was just him and I, no fancy faux fur phonies to impress this time.  #1 Anth wasn’t impressed that I brought the foam fingers along for the fun time and gave him a lecture about how he didn’t use his last time but that foam finger was willing to give him a 2nd chance because there’s nothing like cozying up by a warm fire with the one you love on a cold winter night.   Then I got a return lecture about how I will be single for a long long time if I continue to act like inanimate objects have feelings and personalities.   I mean, they do.  So I don’t know what his problem is.

We got all geared up to head out in the -20 weather for the game and made a pit-stop at a gas station.   I complained the entire 5 minute ride to the gas station about how I was so hungry I could feel my stomach eating itself.  For reals, it was starting to cave in, I saw it happen.  I just couldn’t wait for the delicious hot dogs and beer at the game, so I got some chili cheese fritos and peanut butter m&m’s to tide myself over.  Anth’s pumping gas while I’m mowing down on the fritos (this is so detailed so that you can paint the perfect picture of what is about to happen in your head) Anth gets in the car and is taking a drink from his gatorade when I decided I had to have the m&m’s right that second!! NOM NOM NOM.  I don’t hold anything back, I ripped into the bag of m&m’s and they went flying all over the car. It was literally raining peanut butter m&m’s.  Like really, not 1 m&m was left in the bag.  Anth just sat there in complete disarray of what had just happened and watched half of the bag of m&m’s fall in his air vent while I sat there wide eyed with my empty m&m bag.  Honestly, I was more upset that there were about 30 less m&m’s for me to eat.  Yeah, I picked every last one of them up and ate them.  Call me gross, I don’t care.  But those m&m’s were $3 and tough times call for tough measures.  Anth got pissed and started spouting off about how he thinks I might actually be retarded because how could I do such a thing!? Of course when summer comes he’s going to get a nice chocolate drizzle on his penny loafers but I’ll be long gone when that happens.

The game was good, the big city butts got over 100 points again, so I was happy that I got a free big mac to go with my post game bottle of wine.  All is right with the world, except that I’m still homeless and I start my new job in the big city in 16 days.  Eff.

But hey, Happy 2011 errybody!

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