Update on the Karma

Where to begin...

First of all, all three of you should really start checking out Mark Titus's 'Club Trillion' blog. Greatest. Blog. Ever. (Sorry Higgy. Still have your Snuggie if you want it.) It has inspired me to pack my posts with visuals. Hope you like it.

Second of all, I only cried once this Christmas, and it was over something relatively dumb. I'm proud. Most Christmases end up with me pouting in my room, not unlike a 5 year old. However, the difference between said 5 year old and myself - present disappointment vs. familial disappointment.

As previously discussed, my sister is a little bit of a bitch. After the description she so vividly painted for my friend a few weeks ago, we're not on such great terms. Therefore, when P, my crush from like 6th grade, was invited to the house on the night of Christmas Eve, I made sure she was grounded to her room. We haven't seen each other in about 10 years, give or take some months. Pretttttttttttty sure he would beat it (and not in a good way) if there was a bomb like that dropped on him on his first visit since the nineties. Problemo numero uno avoided-io(?).

Problemo numero dos - my stepfather. Once again, this was touched on in the previous post. His stories about me are appalling. I not only look like that revolving door, but also makes it appear that I am world's dumbest (insert title here). Not cool. One of the examples: I was driving to work when I was 16 in my mom's van when I noticed something felt funny. Well, I had money to make, and I had 8 miles to go, so did you think I pulled over to check it? No. Sooo much easier to just ignore it and keep going. I didn't have a cell phone, so me checking would involve me asking someone for help. Help is for losers, and as I am clearly not one, my ass kept movin. Well, big mistake. The funny thing I noticed happened to be a flat tire. Okay, maybe not flat. More like shredded. I know you just looked at that and thought, nah, "Meg's exaggerating, it was probably more like this". I kid you not, friend. I did indeed shred the damn thing to the point that the picture illustrates. Too bad my step dad is never allowed to read this blog, he'd be thrilled with my illustration... Okay, back to the story - I get to work, park, and assess the damage. I call my step dad saying specifically "I have a flat". He curses at me over the phone. Not a great start. He comes over to the parking lot (mind you it's mid-January) in his Carhardts and immediately freaks the fuck out. So much so that I didn't even get a lecture. Just the silent treatment. I'm very worried at this point. Verbal assault would be much more welcome. I decide to egg him on a little. Great idea. I lean out the window and yell, "How bad is it?". I got all the yelling I needed to feel comfortable with my situation. And then some. He tells this story every opportunity he gets. Which, is apparently a lot given lil sis's cute comments. In light of this, and so many other stories step-daddy has on hand, I asked him to keep quiet upon P's visit. He agreed.

Problemo numero tres - my brother. He scheduled himself to work 5p-5a Christmas Eve. Quick crisis aversion.

I am set. I invite P to come over after dinner. He stops in, talks to the parents for a hot minute, and we quickly scurry downstairs to watch Elf. Alone. In my parent's basement. How cool am I right about now? So it is all I dreamed it would be and so much more. I know, I know, this blog is supposed to be about you feeling better about yourself for reading my life failures. Well, too bad this time, I hope. It was not one ounce of awkward, not even a drop. We even made out. How pumped am I? No, nothing else, thank you, this was the first date. I usually try to keep things clean until at least the second date, unless I'm drunk. (Kidding, kidding, kidding... mostly.) The next night - Christmas - we go to the movies. Another fantastic time. This actually counts as a date. First one since fooooooooooorever. People don't date anymore. P is obviously a keeper. Oh, and he held all the doors for me!! Without me awkwardly waiting for him to do so! (Germaphobe.) Last night I met his family, again, and it was amazing. I've never had such a smooth conversation with a guy's parents. I could have passed out at the dining room table if I weren't confident it would leave the situation much more awkward than I would care for. I also went out with his friends and didn't make an ass out of myself. I'm sold. We have date 4 today at some point. I'm feeling shockingly confident.

Now let's get back to what this blog is really about - disappointment. P was the cool kid who was five years older than me. Also, P is highly successful at his job, and not awkward in the least. Also a fabulous dresser. And he's dating me. I am positive I do not have a sparkling personality. If anything, I am sarcastic and cynical enough for 3 people. I haven't been able to control this quality with the utmost grace, so I think he has an idea I can be relatively negative (yeah, I know, relatively is a stretch.) Also, I was such a dork when he met me. Hooooow can he erase that image from his head so quickly? Also - I am no Carmen Electra. Obvi. Any guesses here peeps? What should I prepare myself for here? Ughh the agony of a successful relationship...

Karma? Not sure which way it's going though...

To be perfectly honest, I think after my past 18 months I deserve a normal relationship. You know, where jobs and honesty are involved with both parties. I've had plenty of time to decide where guilt should be placed from these past catastrophes and it's not with me. That being said, let's look at what's happened in the few days:

Thursday night I watched The Office and posted a quote as my status on Facebook. Next thing I know I get a comment from a guy I was in 4-H with when I was like 12 (I'm 23, do the math). We haven't talked since then, and I'm pretty sure I was way too awkward to say anything to him when I did know him because he was 4 years older than me, 5 in school-age, making him way cooler, and way more mature. Anyways, I comment back already insecure he's remembered even one outfit my mom squeezed me into back then. Oh yeah, um, there's also this photo posted on Facebook for his viewing pleasure... YIKES. Yeah, this would have been taken when he was in my life. (I should be insecure.) Okay, so whatever, I write him back all excited, because I mean 6th grade crushes die hard, okay? Well, he ends up getting my SN on AIM and we chat on there, and then we decide to meet up the day after Christmas. (He lives like 8 hours away... Figures.) Okay, this is only Saturday now. HUGE progression in 2 days. My hopes are way up.

Sunday comes around, and I get a phone call. A PHONE CALL FROM MY 6TH GRADE CRUSH!!! Whatever you haters, I'm a girl. It happens. Okay, so I maintain, I think, and I think I'm a great success on the phone. :D

I text him a lot on Monday because I'm home and home doesn't have technological advances to allow for internet access. And then my friend (the text proposer, yeah, I know, I deserve what happens now) comes over to talk to my brother about college. While he's there, P is texting me about his company party in D.C.. I'm feeling great, until my sister decides to start her 17 year old shit stirring. What would pop out of her mouth but: "Megan, you have a text! It's from a boy." Now she turns to The Amazing Texter: "Megan had so many guys over here in high school. She's dated, like, everyone. It was crazy." Back to me: "Oh, and what happened to that guy you met at the bar you were just talking to?" HOLY HELL. Oh yeah, she did that. I could kill her. Not that Texter means anything to me, I'll even fully admit I never should have had him over, regardless of my brother's educational state. But wow. I'm now blown away. I say nothing and just give her the "you just wait til he leaves" stare because tearing your sister's limbs off in front of company is just rude. *.*. replies, "She did NOT date everyone, because she never gave me a chance." At this point, I feel my reputation still has a little bit of decency left to it... Whatever, P calls again that night and life is good again.

Tuesday: Mom gets home from work and sister, Mom and I are sitting in the kitchen when I mention B's little antics last night. Mom's horrified and mock's B's comment: "Hey *.*. - my sister's a slut!" Thanks, Mom. You're really helping. After my look of anguish, Mom allows me full reign of hurtful comments to B's next 'love'. (I'll wait til she's about 23, when she stops making these ridiculous mistakes she calls boyfriends, much like her sister.) I'll probably mention something about the emo stage she's currently in and probably bring a picture of this Elvira hair cut she's rocking. ;) I text *.*. and let him know that she's in trouble, and I'm sorry for that display of white-trash culture. Who cares, it's probably Karma's way of getting him out of my life ASAP, although I could have thought of less hurtful ways... Now here comes the sticky part: P is staying in town an extra 3 days to hang out. Um, that means a serious performance for 3 days, and making sure I don't have word vomit happen, which is likely the case. Also, I don't know what the hell I was thinking, but I invited him over to my house. WHAT THE HELL IS MY PROBLEM?!?!?! MY SISTER JUST CALLED ME A SLUT IN FRONT OF THE LAST GUY!!!! Please refer to my header of this freakin blog... Yeah, it looks freakin great right now, stuff movies are even made of (leaving out the sister bit), but I bet it's just so I get my hopes up about as high as they can go, just so I invite him over like a moron, my sister says some horrigying comment about something I didn't even do or know about, I blunder and he beats it out of there like a bat out of hell - appropriate label here.

Today: called my mom to tell her P's coming over next week and we're having a family meeting a day before to go over some ground rules. Some thoughts so far:

1. No stories. Especially not ones that involve my so-called incompetencies. Crazy in new relationships needs dished out over years, not days.
2. No bodily functions in front of P. My brother thinks he's Larry The Cable Guy half the time, this is unacceptible on so many levels...
3. No sister. What a friggin bitch. She doesn't get to come out of her room around my company until she's 25.
4. Stepdad MUST appear as if he adores me. We don't get along in front of company 90% of the time and he always makes fun of me and makes me look like I need a helmet. This is probably not attractive to normal guys, so I think I'll give him a script.
5. No stories, no stories, no stories... Ughh. Last boyfriend got about 3 hours worth in one day.

I'll get back to you on the 29th to let you know if I still stake ownership to my family or if I've killed myself dramatically displaying my discontent. :)

Wine: Evil or Cheap Fun

I woke up at eight am shocked to hell. I had no idea where I was or how I got there. Eight am..... I'm the lightest sleeper in the world and I can't sleep in new places. I slept til eight this morning though...?

How I got there:

So I'm broke. Like, flat broke. So, I put aside a $20 and decided I was going to buy a big ol' bottle of vodka with it. Turns out Ohio doesn't think you can have responsible fun with liquor after 9 pm so instead I got a huge bottle of Chardonnay. I have $5 left over! This is super! AND I don't have to get like lemonade or orange juice to mix it! GREAT.

I go and pick up Jack Black and his roommate. They were already drunk. They make cracks about the cleanliness of my car as we make our way over to Dirty Bird's. (Jack Black got wasted back in October and destroyed about 2 dozen cookies on my backseat. He hasn't cleaned it, and I don't plan on it.)

We get to Dirty Bird's and Jack is already in cheerleading shorts. Visually offensive. I verbalized my thoughts. They went to go drink with the girls above me who would appreciate his indecency more so than I. I've opened my wine, so I'm good, let them go, I've seen enough.

They get back about 30 minutes later, well, the roommate came back and forwarned me. I couldn't care less. I'm already wayyyyyy down on my wine. I am solidly satisfied with my buzzed state now.

They get back and we discussed options for the night. (The plan was for me to ambush Dirty and Jack with our friend Skipper at a nearby bar. Turns out girls can't be friends with guys without sex involved. Who knew?)

We decided (okay, they... I was just drunk by then) that we should head to Little Bar. Super! I love bars!

We get to the bar. One of the guys got me a beer. Like I needed that.

Now this is where it gets blurry. I know there was a girl more drunk than myself at the bar, and I feel good about that now.

I guess we went back to Dirty's. I guess I was wayyyyyyyy to drunk to drive. I know I borrowed a T and sweats from Dirty and passed out. What else happened? Not real sure. I would like to believe that I was incredibly polite and mannerly. My instincts know better.

Dirty woke up when I gasped with horror and told me nothing useful. Thanks, ass. Does he not know the friend code? You're there to laugh about your stupidity the next morning, not to blanket it from you. Like Mrs. Turtle who is amazing about highlighting the best and worst of my nights - like when I puked down the side of her car while she was driving. No blanket statements of "you were fine" from her. This only leads me to believe I was so much of an idiot that it shouldn't be discussed at all.

In conclusion, my wine costed me $14.61 at the Kroger by my apartment. Worth it? Maybe if I were out with Skipper or Mrs. Turtle - the lovely gals that would be happy to let me know how I met the criteria of a fuckin moron. With people that I don't trust with my three-year-old logic? Absolutely not. I really can only hope that I didn't suffer from word vomit or some other drunk girl ailment I don't even want to consider. Hopefully these little incidents would be noteable by Dirty the next day given they happened... :/

Quick and Painless Post

K, TBS is the new comedy channel right? They asked us to tell their researchers what's funny a while back. Well, MOST of the things they put on the channel is admittedly humorous - Family Guy, Friends, Roast of Cheech and Chong wasn't totally garbage. Sooooo... this leads me to my question for the genius that pulled this gem out of their hat: Who the hell decided Anaconda was funny?!?!?! Okay, so I smile on occassion while viewing, but it's mostly because of the horrible acting and the fact that the dialogue actually echoes when they're outside. This movie had to have cost about $10,000 to do. Good commercials are about that much, so I think my estimate's fair. So, again, what the hell is Anaconda doing on TBS besides pissin me off? Yeah, I should be in bed, but whatevs, I was hoping for something friggin sweet, and intentionally funny, like Super Troopers. Okay, even Employee of the Month would be better. Jeezzzz Ted, we're in a recession but puh-lease pull it together for the poor college kids.

Only would happen to me.

For fun, let's reiterate two of the funnest stories I've had told to me while checking people out at my retail jobs:

At the grocery store I worked at in high school I asked a woman how she was doing today (standard, as you know), and the response I got was, "Oh, terrible. Just terrible. Our house burnt down last week and we're staying with friends. We lost everything. The only things I have that belong to me are in my car..." Yeah, you want to know what I was doing I as I heard this?? - loading her car. I could not help but check out her digs, and let me tell you, sparse. Verrrrry sparse. Like three shoes. Not pairs, shoes. (Scarred into my mind.) Try to say something comforting to a day like that...

The latest addition: I was at work tonight at Hallmark (you will see this is important), and this man came up that's a pretty regular customer. He would come in all the time when I worked there before (2 years ago) and buy a lot of sappy cards for his girlfriend. I kind of knew she was chronically ill, so when he said he was getting three cards for her this year, I asked how she was doing. :'( Saddest response ever: "Not good, not good at all actually." Okay, so I can't remember verbatim what happened after that, but the sum of the story was that she can only eat organic foods because her body can't process most chemicals. Welllll over the summer she was at a cookout, ate a friggin hot dog, and now she's on her death bed. Yup, a hot dog. We all knew they were probably deadly. Well, it only gets worse. They already had a few surgeries scheduled for her after Christmas to deal with the chronic illness present prior to deadly weiner, now they don't know if she'll make it to the dates, let alone survive them. Also, sadder yet, they had just discussed marriage for the first time over the summer, because her health was turning around. :''( Yeah, they are/were going to get married in Ireland next year. But, obviously it's not looking good for that plan. So, this is where he starts crying. Granted, this guy is probably the most sensitive guy in the world on a normal day, but now this?? This guy has either found the true love of his life, or is seriously a glutton for punishment. Oh, forgot to mention - SHE LIVES IN CANADA. Yeah, and that's right, he lives in Columbus. This is the only customer I've ever dreamt of hugging. After all of my little stunts, I kind of think looking him sending him a Christmas card can only help our cases at this point.

I'm going to go watch The friggin Notebook now and cry myself to sleep.

Text Generation - Revisited

A text I received today:

From: *.*. *****

Realy good. I was just wondering if. u would marry me.
Dec 5, 1:38 pm

(The 'realy good' was in response to my "hey, how are you doing".)

Yeah, this was ten hours ago, and I still haven't gathered my thoughts enough to post more than the message...

I'll get back to this at a more... clear... time.

WTF?!?!?!

Okay, it's time to get back to this.

Um, this was a kid I graduated with from high school. Also notable: he has a girlfriend (this is the least of my concerns at the moment). In response to the text, I (as any sane person would do) laughed and said "Sure, how's next week for you." Yeah, little did I know, he was serious. He then continue to profess his undying love for me and said that he just wanted to have one chance with me to see if it were really meant to be. Let me just state that I met this character in sixth grade. When I was like, 12. We're 23 now. How does this realization, no no, delusion just pop up over night????? Alright, back to the facts. Later in the conversation I said I needed to go cook something for dinner, which led to my skill set, which somehow brought upon a downright disturbing sexual comment. In telling Higgy about this little comment, I called *.*. a 'sexual deviant'. Higgy then explained to me a sexual deviant only does freaky freaky things. The term I was looking for was most likely 'sex predator' - one who would likely be arrested for his/her sexual exploits. I'd have to agree. You just don't text those things to a girl you haven't seen in 4 1/2 years. You just don't, not unless you have plans for much worse. Also, I would just like to try to maintain SOME of my reputation here by stating that I did nothing to bring on this comment. I was litterally discussing cooking chicken, then BAM, here's some delinquint text on my phone. I probably shouldn't have deleted that one for evidence sake when they pick him up for loitering by the local high school... or middle school for that matter. But yeah, he doesn't know where I live anymore so when I go home next week I'll most likely be able to avoid him.

... do I have some sign tattooed on me or something?? Good God.

Singles vs. Takens

Some of my friends forget how much fun it is being single and going to couples parties. One of my best friends means well, I know she does, but damn it when she is drunk she just says what pops into her head. She definitely invited me to a couples party tonight and then announced for the single kids that there were actually four of us, so it's not AS BAD as it usually is. (Yeah, on New Year's this past year she was wasted and yelled that I was single and had no one to kiss at midnight. Thanks, Kins. Thanks.)

But yeah, after she announced the population of the singles, she then said we should have a standard color to wear so everyone knows our status when we walk in the door. I totally agree. I think that would only help my pleasant disposition while I listen to all of the cute couples talk about their perfect nights out, their kids, their awesomeness together, and then ask how my love life is going.

Whatever, after the luck I've had, I like being single. Soooo much easier.

This post is strikingly similar to something Bridget Jones would write... I'm going to bed now.

Not My Story, But Sooo Worth It

I quit my full time job to go back to school and I had to train 3 people to take over for me. Yeah. 3 people. I'm bad ass. One of the girls I trained was a complete moron. This is a story she told me while I was attempting to make her pass off as competent:

Smore: "Yeah, so my boyfriend from Pittsburgh travels a lot for work. And it makes him sick, you know, traveling so much... Well, he was like, working with these chemicals, right? And he was so sick, so he was trying to take his medicine and then I didn't talk to him for like a whole day. I was so worried about what was wrong, I mean, a whole day! So then he finally called me back and I guess he didn't really take his medicine, and it made him even sicker."

Me: "Um, what on earth did he take if he thought he was taking his medicine?"

Smore: "Well, it's powdered medicine..."

Me: "...and?"

Smore: "Well... He thinks he might have taken Cheer."

Me: "Cheer. The laundry detergent."

Smore: "Yeah, cause, well Cheer can be powdered you know."

Me: "........ Well, that's just horrible."

WHAT THE FUCK!?! Yeah she met him on E-Harmony.com. OBVIOUSLY the site freakin works, because those two are a match made in heaven.

Cheap Gifting

Okay, so I was at Target today and a little episode I luckily witnessed inspired this post. Also, I find it conveniently timed near the holidays, especially considering our economic crisis and blah blah blah...

I'm walking out of the store with my incredibly exciting toaster oven when I hear this mother yelling at her 4 year old that her behavior is 'unacceptable' and she's 'tired of this shit'. I'm intrigued, of course, so I stare like the rest of the trailer trash nearby. Yeah, the kid was (most likely accidentally) swiping a copy of Tinkerbell on DVD. Kid read my mind... Really looks like award-quality work, there.

The incident reminded me of my childhood. Yeah, I know, sad already. But on many occasions, when I was little I didn't have any money, but I felt my mom needed a gift for her sacrifices made as a mother. Soooo, my little ingenious self decided it was a risk I was ready to take. Either we would shoplift her a gift, or she would just have to unknowingly buy it for herself. She deserved it, right? For mother's day one year she received a lovely hanging planter by surprise, and for her birthday one year I made her a card at one of those custom card stands. She did actually find out about that before the checkout... She didn't find it so sincere. Another time she unknowingly purchased a few bags of her favorite candy for Christmas. She was delighted on Christmas morning and puzzled at my resourcefulness. I think this is a lovely idea for those stressing out about finances near the holidays. Just go shopping with someone a little more 'secure' than yourself, and hope to God they (or the cashier for that matter) don't realize their extra item/s. :)

P.S. - Let's not let this one get back to Momma M. I'm 23, but it really doesn't matter...

Another Annoyance for Mom

Okay, so it's been a little while since the last post, and I'm sad to say this one won't be very long, but things have been kind of busy (or would have been if I hadn't procrastinated...). Anyways, as the blog URL is about disappointing my mother, this site would be lacking without talking about my mom's biggest frustration: Niko. See below. Niko's been in the world of Megan since October 3, 2007. I don't think I told my mom about my little addition to the family for about 2 weeks. That's huge. I tell my mom just about everything. Why wouldn't I? She's stuck with me through just about everything so why not...

When I finally let the news spill she was silent. She came up to meet him two weeks later. Sure, he's plenty o' cute. But he's pretty bad... Yeah he peed on the floor and I'm pretty sure he pooped on the steps for her too. Quite the performer...

I brought him home a few weeks later for Thanksgiving. Yeah... That didn't go over very well. He playingly (I swear) attacked my mom's terrier which ended up poorly as you can imagine, and then the cat viciously attacked him. The cat literally scared the shit out of Niko, right onto the floor. Niko's not exactly welcome back.

This past weekend I was home with the dog and waiting to drop him off at the kennel. We were talking about all of the strides Niko had made in the past year as far as behaving himself in the house. As my mom walks out the door, the cat flies up the stairs from the basement and once more attacks the shit out of my dog right onto the kitchen floor. Poor lil guy's secured his place at the kennel for the holidays for sure...

100 Proof Vodka & High School Friends

One weekend when I was a frosh back in the dorms, two of my friends from high school came up to visit. Since my best guy friend lived in my dorm with me, as well as my current boyfriend, it was going to be a pretty sweet night out on campus.

None of us were unfamiliar with drinking, nor drinking with liquor, so we did not hesitate at all to start pounding shots with Wreck's (the best guy friend) Absolut. My boy even pulled out some Kool-Aid mix to make the bite less harsh. Great idea.

By the time we left about an hour and a half later, the bottle (a handle, at that) was gone.

We walk about 8 blocks and I'm trying to point out my sorority house, but I can't make out which house it is (there were only about 5 to pick from, 5 very large houses with huge greek letters on the side - not a tough task).

We finally get to the party, which was probably about another 6 blocks away. As soon as we got there, the girls and I are dying to pee so we run upstairs to the bathroom. I'm absolutely appalled that there is only one toilet and decide the proper punishment for such a house would be to pee in the sink. Classy, I know.

We go back downstairs, Jo runs off to drink with her 'boys' while I suppose the rest of us were just obnoxious (I can't imagine I went back to classy, just being realistic). After a little while (no idea how long), Jo comes back to mingle with the original friends and she passes out in Min & Wreck's arms. While they are cracking up about how her head can be smashed off of the sidewalk without any disagreement from her, I'm busy telling my boy how tired I am and I pass out on the neighbor's air conditioning unit. This prompts the three more responsible drinkers to find a ride back to our dorm to take us two idiots back.

I wake up towards the end of the car ride, and decide I've had enough of these shenanigans, I'm peacing out. I open the door, to the moving vehicle, and somehow make it out without killing myself. Luckily, we were at the corner where my dorm was located, so I didn't have far to crawl. I make it off of the sidewalk and decide a nap is in order. The rest of the crew reluctantly scrapes me up off of the ground and argues me into the dorm where they begin recruiting help to transport Jo and myself to the third floor. One of the few people in the dorm that I felt genuinely disliked me volunteered to help me to my bed. I was slightly more agreeable at this point, but still not beyond acting like a complete ass.

In the elevator, I go limp (obviously tired as I did not get my much needed nap in the lawn). I continue this fun act until I get right in front of my RA's door. That's when I deem it wildly uncomfortable in my jeans and tank top (no bra, mind you) and discard both items in lightning speed. This leaves me stumbling to my room practically in just underwear. In a thong. In front of a crowd of people that have been enjoying the show with clothes on. This is a girl who has never even heard of the word class.

They get me into the bed, and Brooks, my volunteer angel, tucks me and Jo in while the other three do God knows what. (I'd like to believe they went out and had fun, but I know they did not since I still hear complaints 4 years later.) I wake up about 3 hours later to find my boy watching How to Lose a Guy, so I leave to much on pretzels and laugh at a ridiculous loudness for morning hours in the hall. I'm still wasted and will not hear of why I have no clothes on. I'm convinced that my boy just tried to get with me and will not hear of any stripping.

The next morning, I get up in a great mood and head downstairs with the gang to eat breakfast in the commons. We're laughing about the fun times of the night before - Jo going shot for shot with a guy two times her size, her puking down her shirt, me screaming about my name brand pillows being offered to my drunk friend, us catching a ride from a coke head, you know, the usual. Brooks walks up and says he's shocked to see me at the table, he's sure I'd be dead to the world for days. He also comments on what a polite drunk I am. I was so kind as to even let him know when I needed to yak. How charming. And where the hell was my boyfriend when all of this was going on?!?!

Anyways, I love my friends. Anyone who can not abandon me after stunts like that is A-OK in my book. They even pulled pepperoni out of Jo's bra from the pizza she puked up. They haven't come back to party yet... But I think the feeling's mutual.

Courtney Love, My Former Roommate

When I came up to OSU my freshman year, I had a boyfriend who was in a fraternity and everything looked just peachy. Well, inspired by his plethora o' friends, I decided that a sorority was definitely for me. Yeah, fraternities work, sororities do not. Guys can handle each other.

After living in the sorority house a year, I decided that I would not turn in my lease for the upcoming year, but instead live with some known alcoholics of the sorority - the rich bitches. My thoughts: it'll be fun! I'm deluded.

We move in to a 5 bedroom townhouse in early September 2006. I'm sharing a room w/Australia, Courtney Love is sharing a room with Shadow. Now we have 7 living in a place that would barely, after all of that estrogen, hold 3. But think about how much we're going to save on rent! *Two thumbs up!*

THE INITIAL OFFENSE
Night One:
I'm on the phone with Stew downstairs on the couch to get some privacy from Australia. Courtney and Shadow are drunk (they just bought a case of wine), and Courtney drifts over to the fridge. I'm on the phone for about an hour, and the better part of that the fridge door is open. Whatever, I won't complain about electricity waste... yet. I hang up the phone and trot back upstairs happily thinking of how much I love the new place.

Following Day:
I head to the fridge before work to grab some lunch - the only thing I have is a loaf of bread (Oatnut - the best EVER) and some bologna. My findings: 1/4 of original loaf, still looks like it was chewed up by a German Shepherd, and two torn up slices of bologna. I do some thinking, and put two and two together. I tell Courtney she owes me the food she scarfed down.

Two Days Later:
I get a pack of ham and a loaf of French bread.

THE MICHIGAN GAME
I'll make it short: the night before the game they held a party and Courtney called me Jewish for not paying for the keg. I don't drink beer, and I didn't know about the party until the day of so, none of my friends would be coming to drink any beer either. I spent the night at a bar down the street while drunks peed all over the bathroom that Australia and I share... and clean... Please note I was with Australia at the bar... UGHHHHHHHHH!

On game day, Courtney is blackout drunk and her Shadow is dying laughing. Courtney tries to cut a Michigan fan's hair, then another fan's shirt actually off of his body. My more responsible, but also arguably blind roommate reprimands Courtney. This sets the banshee off screaming and disgusted, so she finds the first thing that would annoy EVERYONE: a Subway sandwich. She takes delightful sandwich and smears it (ketchup, mustard, banana peppers and all) on our dining room wall. Game takes priority to our deposit and everyone leaves. I find it hours later and die a lot inside. The 'gang' gets back and one of the drops some grass on the floor. Shadow shouts something about the mess and I tell her to fuck off, we have edible food plastered on a white wall. This shuts the bitch up. When we left, our wall was still multicolored from the stain. How we got $$ back, I'll never know.

THE WATER BILL
This could be my favorite story. Courtney, somehow, was deemed responsible enough to pay the water bill every month for us. She would tell us how much our part was, then we would give her cash and she would write a check. Nine months into our lease, we get a notice of eviction. Why you may ask? Oh, because DUMB ASS WAS WRITING BAD CHECKS FOR NINE MONTHS!!! I was absolutely fuming. Absolutely PISSED. I couldn't even look at her. The responsible one talked to her to get down to the bottom of why we owed about $2k. Courtney, at the age of 24, honestly believed that checks were similar to credit cards in that the money didn't have to be there for recipient to receive funds.

OCCASIONAL HAPPENINGS
Naked drunk: every once in a while, Courtney would get so drunk she would strip naked and either get in the shower for hours, or just lay there screaming. In any room. Including other's rooms.

Pooping: because her and her Shadow were SUCH great friends, they wouldn't poop in their bathroom which would risk the offense of the other. There were two other bathrooms to poop in, and it made it even better that they didn't clean them. The upstairs (where I so happily resided) constantly smelled... well, just plain disgusting.

Food: if the first experience was any indication, Courtney continued to take others' food. Even recruited two others to join in. The four responsible kids basically fed these leaches. I had to buy a mini fridge and storage containers for all of my food to be kept in my room.

Her Jobs: she had received and quit/got fired for all five jobs. She would not go in, or drink on the job more often than not. She was a hire-as-need babysitter (well, not really, she just pretended to be Shadow and went in under a false name) which drank the parent's alcohol after kids went to bed. I reported her. :)

Ohhhhh yes, these people are real. Real and could even be your fuckin roommate before you find out they even existed in the first place. I might not learn from my mistakes, but you probably should.

Dating Debacles

All of the following are truth without exaggeration and much of the reason why I am single and have no problem being so.

As previously mentioned, Stew and I officially ended our on-again-off-again relationship, if you can call it that, in January of this year (08). Since then, I've encountered the following prospects:

1. The Designer - actually went on a date with this guy. He seemed pretty cool when we talked online and on the phone, so I risked rape and murder and went to go grab some drinks (gladly not ruphied) at the local Applebee's. While on the date, Designer made it painstakingly clear that he was much more into clothes than myself. He confessed to just spending $200 on jeans. Translation when heard by myself: "I'm always going to look better than you, and make sure you know about it, and how much it costs to do so." (Not to mention the metro/borderline-gay tones this carries.) Strike 1. Also told me a delightful story about how loaded he is, and he's contributing to society by supporting his slacker friend who he secretly wants to kick out. But, of course, he cannot bear to as his friend is in dire need of a hand up, and he's really kind of happy to help. Translation: "I go a long ways to do things I don't really want to do, and I don't tell the people they involve that I'm unhappy. I'll probably do this in a relationship and blame you when the truth finally surfaces. Also, since I'm already complaining about this, just wait, there's a ton more to come." Strike 2. Then, last, but most certainly not least, Designer mentions he's proud owner of two cats. That's not even the end of it, the cats names? Foxy and Lacey. Translation: "I'm not confused at all about my sexuality, but I'm just going to flat out ignore my findings." Strikes 3-Infinity. About a week later, he'd asked me on a date which I was quick to say I had to work late. He then flipped out about how I was lying, as if this was going to draw me in, enamored by his charm.

2. The Med Student - this guy I dated for a few weeks, and even got a Valentine's day card from. I have a strong tendency to ignore red flags, and he's a classic example. People have a habit of telling secrets that should stay secrets after they start to trust someone. The Med Student was no exception. I'd ignored his chuckling at a dog toy the first time we'd went out. (He'd sent a picture text to his brother with the tag "heard you liked anal".) Strike 1. This was enough for me to hear, but not enough for me to stop dating him. Oh no, I'm a sucker for being disappointed. We were in Wal-Mart about two weeks later and tells me that when he was 23 (4 years ago) he dated a 17 year old stripper. It was in Texas, so it was legal. How sweet. Strike 2. The last night I saw Med Student was when I was over at his place. He was really needy (a trend you will soon see) and asked that I bring my 6 month old puppy to come play with his dog and then stay the night. My dog is a hyper little ass most of the time so I immediately had reservations. I'd fallen asleep on the couch and after about 2 am only to wake up to find him basically egging on his 80 lb Boxer to fight my 15 lb Pomeranian mix. He's so thoughtful. My dog hadn't been let out for about 5 hours and proceeded to literally piss himself. Med Student then sprays Windex on it to 'disinfect'. Did I mention he was in MED SCHOOL?????? As I mop up Windex (please note that it's after 2 am and I'm a grump when I don't get sleep), I notice that the paper towel is black with filth.

Me: "Um, I think you guys might want to get your carpets cleaned..."
Med Student: "It's not dirty, it's your dog's pee." (Much needed strike 3.)
Me: "Right. You're bound to be first in your class as most people know urine is STERILE when expelled from the body!"

About three minutes later, I get in another jab by calling his dog fat. I gather Niko, my things, and promptly exit. Med Student calls the next day to tell me that he never really wanted to like me to begin with and thinks he's falling in love. WTF. Where do I find these guys...?

3. The Chemical Manager - this one only really needed one strike, and you'll see why. We actually met through some friends, which would lead one to think that such events would have been prevented. Wrong.

Chem Manager: "How old are you?"
Me: "22, you?"
Chem Manager: "27."

A few days later, Chem Manager adds me on Myspace after numerous stories which kept me questioning my math skills, only for me to find I'm being added by a man who appears to be the guy I'm dating, only 5 years older. Strikes 1-3. Yeahhhhhh, if you're going to lie about your age, keep on lying. (The worst part - I dated him for a little while longer just hoping to get a confession about the lie. Conclusion: I'm the dumb ass.)

4. The Partier - this is my most recent fuck up, as I just broke up with him on Wednesday night. The Partier and I met at a bar and I was instantly infatuated. He was cute, funny, I liked his friends, basically everything that gets me to ignore the red flags that are to follow.

His Confessions (right off the bat, obviously ignored by myself):
a. 2 DUIs
b. Continues to dabble in illegal drug use. (I don't care what you do, but I don't like dating those who illegally, not to mention expensively, alter their state of consciousness, especially with cocaine.)
c. He lives with his parents. At 23. And he's never been in college for more than 6 months, and that was only once. (Once more, do not care what you do. This tid bit is for foreshadowing purposes.)

His Later Confessions (not so easily ignored):
a. Had warrant out for his arrest. Suspects warrant may be out for his arrest at current time as he has not checked in with parole officer in... well a very long time.
b. Credit so bad, he was denied by a bank. Yeah, that's right, a bank. How did he find this out? He tried to give the bank money, and they denied it saying it didn't touch how much he owed. I was floored banks even did that. (This is the reason he was living with his parents. He WISHES he had no money.)
c. Not so much as a confession, but an obvious lie - I had not seen him go to work for 8 days and he continued to claim that his place of employment was calling him off. As he complained every five seconds about the job, it wasn't hard to put the pieces together. He'd quit his job and didn't really feel like getting his ass off of my couch. When confronted, he commented that I had just received my refund check from my school. Translation - "I-I-I, I thought you were going to, like, support me?" - (revisted Dec 21st to say that yeah, I saw that paycheck, I was right.)

Confessions, all 6, leave me to declare Partier one of the bigger wastes of spaces I've dated in my 23 short years. Strikes 1-infinity.

Dedicated to Higgy & His Lover.

All's Fair

Let me start by explaining the background story:

I am from small-town-USA. We didn't even have a stop light in the town I lived in during high school, and our high school was made up of 42 similar towns. Despite the consolidation, I still graduated with only about 120 kids. Booming metropolis, obvi.

Two of the kids I graduated with, who never dated in high school (most would go so far say they strongly disliked each other), recently got engaged and decided to follow through with a marriage. The bride-elect was my best friend from high school and asked that I be a bridesmaid. This was what I spent my last weekend (also my birthday) doing.

Also notable that I NEVER go home to visit. Ever. It's not that I think I'm too good because I moved away, I'm clearly not too stuck up if I go and create a blog named "How to Disappoint Mom". The truth? I never really fit in. I sure as hell tried though... Yikes. ANYways......

Enough with the background and on to my fun birthday!

I'm at the reception for about 30 minutes, just got done eating when I see a fellow BFE graduate walk by the bridal party table. I call out to him and tell him it's good to see him, you know, typical formalities. "V" then sets a record for making me feel awkward (not incredibly hard to do, but he did a remarkable job in a ridiculously short amount of time) by complaining about his girlfriend of 4 years while I can only assume hitting on me at the same time. Not shocking in most circumstances, but I seriously believe she was in earshot of most of the bashing. As if not enough to have me continuously sputter, "U-uhh... I'm so, um, sorry... She, um, she looks really nice... Well, umm... I'm really... I have to..." he switches the subject to my ex. We'll call him Stew. So, V relates that he's ready to kick Stew's ass for having the nerve to let his girlfiend (maybe I'm too liberal here with the term) cheat on her old .... fling (?) with him (him being Stew). Yeah, you following? Me neither. Also not sure why this is any of my concern noting the EX part of the label he now holds.

Cut to me still staring blankly what seems like an eternity later while my date shows up. (Also notable - date is strictly platonic friend from high school employment.) I scurry away from the conversation I never cared to hear about in the first place in hopes of safe sanctuary. We sit next to the bar for obvious reasons while I complain about the incident he just walked in on. Date then decides it's imperative to detail how I was cheated on by Stew by the girl he (he being date) was sleeping with at the same time back in the winter of 2006/2007. This is incredibly sweet of him to tell me now... Now being a year and a half after having Stew move into my apartment and a year after dumping Stew and kicking him out. (My relationship with Stew was wildly successful.) This information leaves me disgusted, and disgusted by all three involved - date, Stew, and the hooker who was supposedly doing both and telling date about exploits with someone else's 'boy'.

I drink a lot more. I'm now double fisting. Happy friggin birthday.

One hour later: I've been asked out on a real date by date, only after he's told me about how he only bangs women from ages 35-43. This is a very drastic change from the barely legal ass (hooker included) that he picked up fresh out of high school last year and the year before. I'm quite offended... For so many reasons.

Parents come to pick my not-nearly-drunk-enough ass up at 11:00. Have I said this is my birthday yet? Should have done shots...

In bed by midnight, after my mommy shoved half a pack of Tums down my throat to prevent heartburn from my 32 screwdrivers. [Please note URL name.]

Now to deal with the aftermath:

1. V's little tid bit - texted Stew to detail the fun I had the night before and to let him know, you know, just in case he cared... After further discussion, it appears that V's friend is just really caught up about his piece handing it off to someone else. Leads me to the post's title: pursuing war in place of former love, or just love making. Hell, we're all adults here, it was probably just fucking.
(Let the record show I am thoroughly disturbed that Stew has picked this piece o' ass to follow our relationship. I am positive I'm on a much higher level than this bia. Even if he is on her level, he could have at least tried to do better...)

2. Date's ridiculously late tattling - also discussed with Stew the possibility of Miss Barely Legal banging both date and Stew at the same time, of course with her being the side dish to myself as main course (optimism as a first). Decided whatever Stew said isn't really trustworthy anymore, therefore not admissible to my little mock hearing. Had to use rational thought to declare Stew was far too busy in our honeymoon stage of our relationship to have possibly had enough time to bang her. But, I can't totally dismiss the possibility, but should it carry any truth, well, that's just plain amazing. I've decided that Barely Legal has an agenda, as well as my date. The agenda? Well, I'm pretty freakin hot, and Stew appeals to those in the Jr. High and High School settings, so it only makes sense...

CONCLUSION:

Everyone in the Ohio Valley sleeps with everyone else in the Ohio Valley. You know that game where you have people in a group stand up to demonstrate who's slept with who? Oh you had to have played it in sex ed. Stacy slept with Peter who slept with these three skanks, who each slept with the whole football team, at least, and so on, so basically, everyone in the room has some how had a sexual degree of separation with everyone else in the room? That, my friends, seems to be the Ohio Valley in a nutshell. I'm not knocking, I'm obviously a part of the incestuous ways as I did attend high school in the fuck-fest. I'm just letting you know why I am the way I am. I thought it was normal for about 19 years and I've only been out for 4... Can't expect miracles here, people.

Onnnnnnnnn that note, I'm off to get tested. :)

-M

Getting started...

Here goes a little more than nothing, as setting this up was so difficult and all. I'm incredibly tired after my blast of a birthday weekend, which was second in priority to being a bridesmaid (think I failed that test miserably - more about that fun fest to come).

So, I guess losing my blogging virginity is going to be about as quick and awkward as most virginities go... Let's just hope my entries get better... not to mention longer and smoother (can't promise any orgasms, though ;) ).

Catch you on the flip side,

M