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Gimmie Love

8 Mar

Dear younger sister, or really, dear only sister.  Now’s the time for you to go and find something else to do and not read the post.  What’s for dinner tonight?  Are you and the kids going out since my brother-in-law is heading out of town?  May I recommend something delicious for tacos?  Because tacos are always good.  Get on that.  And stop reading.  Thank you.  Goodbye.

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I’m Getting Old

1 Apr

There can be no other explanation for it.  None what so ever.  Sure, the fact that we started drinking in the afternoon could have something to do with it, but that’s just a lame excuse.  It was the lights at the club that were making me dizzy.  Like and old person.  An old person who hit a wall and had to leave the bar at 11:15 on a Saturday night because the lights were making her dizzy and the music was too loud.

Did they have to turn the volume THAT high?  Do you need to feel the music thumping in your bones?  Couldn’t they turn it down a little bit and then maybe stop with the crazy light shows?  Those were the thoughts going through my head last night when I was out with my friends.  Along with, why would she wear something like that?  Who does he think he’s kidding with that hair? And my favorite, why on God’s green earth is Claude drinking bourbon on the rocks?

Lame.  I am officially lame.

Claude and The Producer came all the way from DC to hang out with me and I was very busy being lame.  We spent the day drinking, eating, and walking all over town so Claude could find shoes.  We then proceeded to play that little game called, “I really like the first pair of shoes that I tried on, but lets walk all over town, and then come right back to this store.”  Super times.  Whatever, it was an excuse to take a break from our drinking.

Two cocktails, a glass of champagne, two more cocktails, two more glasses of champagne, and two big margaritas made me lame yesterday.  By the time 10:30 rolled around there was nothing I wanted more than to rest my head on a pillow and pass the fuck out.  Meanwhile, we’re sitting at a bar and I had just asked Jersey Belle and Oingo Boingo to come hang out with us.  So they get there, but no one can talk to anyone because it’s too fucking loud and the lights are making me want to vomit.

So what did I do?  I left their asses at 11:15 so I could drive 45 minutes to get home and go to sleep.  God forbid I’m still awake past midnight on a Saturday.

When did I become that person?  What happened to the days of staying out until dawn, waking up at 2:00 in the afternoon the next day, and doing it all again?  I miss those days.

Further Proof That I’m an Idiot

1 Mar

I hate my own stupidity, I really do.  Beyond idiotic sometimes.  Hey, Oingo Boingo, this one’s for you…

I logged onto Google chat today for the first time in months and months.  A message immediately popped up saying, “Hey, stranger.”  I saw the message and the name and immediately started typing.  After all, I just love Claude!  He’s such a delight.  So we’re messaging for a few minutes and I casually ask him how his new dog is doing.  “Doggy?” He asks.  “Yeah, didn’t your folks get that puppy?”  To which he replies, “Do you know who this is?”

That’s when I look at the name and realize it doesn’t say Claude.  Oh, no.  No it does not.  It just so happens that it’s a dude who has the SAME fucking last name as Claude and who’s first name looks like Claude.  When I realize this, I immediately think, “Fuck.  FUCK!  Fuckity fuck fuck fuck me.”

Who is it, you want to know.  It just so happens it’s a dude who I totally ditched.  Ditched hard…

Several months ago this guy started chatting me up on OK Cupid.  He seemed fine, so I agreed to meet him for a drink.  After all, it’s not like I have dudes knocking down my door these days.  Plus I can actually feel my ovaries shrinking and each month I can hear my eggs weeping as they die.  It’s a sad sad state of affairs.

Shortly after agreeing to go out with him, I find out that he knows Oingo Boingo.  So like any other chick on the face of the earth, I immediately go into stealth mode and start peppering Oingo Boingo with questions.  I was out with his wife, Jersey Belle, and we started texting about it.  As soon as we started asking him, he started laughing at him.  As I recall his response was, “You’re going to hate him.  I can’t wait to read the blog post.”  I, of course, ran for the hills.

The dude would write to me and I would promptly delete all of his emails.  So months later, here we are again and he’s no IMing me.  Fuck me.

It would be really nice if I was mature enough to say, “I’m an asshole, sorry for doing that.”  Instead I took the cop out pussy way out.  I told him my brother-in-law had been ill, I’ve been in Baltimore every weekend, and I’m working a lot.  Lies.  I just lied to him.  Why?  Because I’m an ass.  It’s no wonder I’m single.  You know he had to throw out the “are you seeing anyone” question, and clearly I’m wasn’t going to tell him the truth.  Instead I went ahead and told him I had been seeing someone for about 2 months and we met at work.

I believe we’ve all learned a lesson here: and that lesson is to never ever allow people in your chat list unless you actually want to talk to them.


Lent(tl) Soup

17 Feb

You crazy Catholics with your Easter Bunny, and your Jesus on the Cross, and the holy trinity, and your giving up stuff for Lent, and your priests that molest kids.  You so crazy!

I love this time of year.  For some reason, it brings me great joy to see all my Catholic friends give up stuff for Lent.  I take the opportunity to surround myself with whatever they give up.  If they decide no chocolate for 40 days, then every time that I see them I’m eating chocolate.  No swearing?  More f bombs from me in their presence.  No drinking?  More invitations to Happy Hour.

I’m evil.  I know it.  I’m an Atheist, I don’t care.

This year, however, I’ve decided to take a different approach.  I’m going to give up Claude for Lent.  That’s right.

  • No more stories about multiple honeypots.
  • No more emailing him and demanding that he respond immediately if not sooner.
  • No more stories about Meow.
  • No more stories about how he got busy in the dressing room at Macy’s at 10 in the morning.

Sacrifice?  No, not really.  It’s rage.  He’s jetting off to Hawaii right this very second and I’m green with envy. 


Now Accepting Applications

29 Jan

I’m considering putting up a sign like that in my car.  No, I’m not looking for someone to help me reset the peen counter*.  Rather, I’m looking for a date. 

Last Friday I received the invitation to Un-boyfriend’s wedding.  It shocked me to see that they had made it out to Catherinette Singleton and Guest.  AND GUEST??  What the fuck is that about??  I never take an “and Guest” to a wedding anymore.  In fact, about half the time that I used to take “and Guest” to a wedding, it was Un-boyfriend.  Pretty damn sure he’s going to be unavailable to go with me to his own wedding.

I immediately sent a text message to Claude because I knew that he and I would have a JOYOUS time there.  Mainly because we could mock the bride and everyone else.  Well guess what?  That dirty bastard already has plans.  God damn it, Claude.  GOD DAMN IT!!

You know what I realized?  I have ZERO single male friends that I want to go with.  Not.  One.  Single.  One.  NONE! 

So what the fuck am I supposed to do?  Of all the weddings in the world, this is one that I’d really like to go to with some handsome stud on my arm.  So, fine readers, I turn to you.  Help a sister out here: help me find that handsome, charming stud who will mock the bride with me. 

Who the hell am I going to take??

*OK, who am I kidding?  I’m ALWAYS looking for someone to help me reset that damn counter.  Every second that ticks by is one second closer to me being an old maid.  I think I need to get myself a bonnet and I need to learn how to knit.  Don’t old maids do those kinds of things?  Hmm…might have to start getting into “The View” and “Matlock” too.

I Will Go Chuck Norris on Your Ass…and I Don’t Mean That in a Sexual Way

30 Dec

God damn it, Disney.  God damn it!

Disney and Claude take every opportunity they can to mock my attendance of graduate school.  They think it’s hilarious that I’m taking classes online, and they don’t care that it’s at a Big 10 school and that I got an A for my first semester.

Disney enjoys making countless jokes about the International Correspondence School and Sally Struthers.  Claude tends to focus on DeVry and University of Phoenix.  He even went so far as to send me a text message that said, “Look!  I’m driving past your school,” and forwarded me a picture of a sign for the University of Phoenix.

Assholes.  Dirty assholes, that’s what they are.

This morning Disney took it to a whole new level, he sent me this video

I am not afraid to hurt him.

Claude’s Many Adventures: Party Style

10 Dec

When he’s not spending time in “meetings” (with strange fellows in Macy’s restrooms), he’s working. For the past few years Claude has worked at a non-profit agency in DC. Yesterday was the big party held by his organization. What was supposed to be an easy party, turned into a full-fledged nightmare.

He had disappeared from email from 2 days, so I harassed him until he spilled every single bean:

Well the day started with us finding out that the person volunteering to play Santa couldn’t do it. So we had no Santa and no Santa suit. So I got to resolve all of that before lunch. Then I got to drive from our office in for 45 minutes to pick up a rental Santa suit and then back to Van get my boss and all the supplies we needed for the event, only to drive over to the venue.

So we get to the school where the event was held and none of the tables and chairs we rented had been delivered yet. Over 50 tables and 500 chairs that we needed to have set-up by 6 PM. Its now 4 PM. Also, we asked the school if it was possible to show a DVD during the program and they said yes. Well, the school decided that what we actually wanted to do was show a power-point, so that’s all they had set-up. We had to quickly figure that out, which involved getting a coworker’s laptop from her apartment and the VP bringing in her stereo from home so that we could play the sound on the movie. Then the furniture finally showed up at 4:45 and the delivery guys were refusing to deliver it because they had to walk up a flight of stairs. While all of that was happening, the VP of the school casually let me know that when all of the drinks for our event were delivered to the school earlier that day, the school turned them away because they thought someone fraudulently ordered them on their account. So we now have no drinks for an event where we are serving dinner for approx 500 people. Fucking awesome! So we had to go into the school cafeteria and take all of their juice boxes for the kids to give out to the families. Claude, at that point I just started laughing, to keep from crying. It was awesome!

Protected: Political Intercourse – I Mean Discourse

24 Nov

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