Monday, December 22, 2008

"Please sit on my face"

I've been on a Grandma's Boy kick lately. I've seen it like 12 times but I love it and I go to sleep to it every night now.(where the title comes from, I'm not a perv)

So I'm not usually one to follow the crowd, but I will on this one.

Tis the season for blog hiatus'. And I will be taking a (super lame) spot on that bandwagon.

I am still working two jobs, reconnecting with the ex, simultaneously trying to date about 3 other men, shopping for the 24 people on my Christmas list, living in a basement..etc.

(BTW I'm planning on feuding with some family members and or ditching some friends by this time next year so I don't go as broke shopping for these bitches.)

And well, I'm busy. And I think I need a fresh perspective. I'm getting stale ( not me as a person, but my bloginess). And the writing isn't coming as easily. Plus BWP is doing it, and if all the cool kids are doing it. Then I am too!

So there...

...stay tuned.

(It won't be that long I promise all 2 of you!)

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Sleep is King....

The perils of working two jobs :

my feet hurt, all the damn time. (that may or may not have to do with the fact that I wear gorgeous heels as often as possible)

I am tired, all the time.

I have no life. (thank you to everyone who is able to consider my brief appearances an addition to their night.)

I never eat. (this is a lie. I eat a lot. Just crappy food on the run, so it feels like I never eat)

I never get to the gym.

I am getting fatter by the day. Double Dangsies.(or maybe not cuz everything still fits but I have lost ALL muscle and replaced it with jiggly stuff instead. Ew)

I miss the people in my life. ( One of my best friends is preggo and I have yet to see that damn bump! ) ( I found out it's a girl today so I'm super excited!)

I have yet to finish my series of children's books. ( which is kind of my bail out from this shiteous economy, so I kinda need to get on that!)

I have yet to put away ONE pile of folded clean clothes (I don't even get points for the folded ones because Roommate made her kids fold them for me while I was at work :) )

I don't have ANY idea what day it is.

Christmas shopping? What? We've already had thanksgiving?

My contacts do not last as long as they should because I sleep in them too often.

My car looks like a bomb went off (another lie, it always looks like that but MORE so when there is a chill in the air because there is NO WAY my ass is getting all that crap out of the car when its cold out. Two trips. Nope I will just start a recycling center in my backseat... YOU'RE WELCOME EARTH!)

I don't feel like I actually make money.( could be my own fault. I have lots of cute new jewelry and clothes and shoes to explain this one)

I don't get to bitch at the ex-boy/current boy for never being available.(He always has and still does work two jobs as well.. always a good match. Two people who are completely unavailable.) today I left one of my jobs. Sadly.
In January I will know what it is like to live like a human and be able to get up in the morning and have some sort of clue as to what day it is. And not in terms of where I am supposed to be.

I will be able to get back to TRI training.
I will be able to breathe.
I will be able to out away my clean clothes ( okay that's pushing it)
I will know what its like to have an ENTIRE day off.
I will be able to make plans for said day off.
I will finish my children's books.
I will write the next great american novel.
I will bake more. (Just ask my coworkers at JobTwo, they got to experience my cookies at the Company Christmas Party last night!)
I won't always be tired.
I will help the kiddies with their home work.
I will be able to see the boy more.

I will be able to ... breathe.
Seriously I've not felt myself take a breath since August.
Can a person go that long without?

I will check the record books and get back to you on that one.

For now. Sleep is king.

Because two weeks notice does not mean I have a day off just yet!

Friday, December 12, 2008

Consider me Miles Davis...

I woke up three times today.

Once this morning around 730 a.m.
Tried to grab my dignity (but it appears to have been lost) my shoes and left my friends apartment. I started my car and drove home. It was only then did I realize that I was in fact, still intoxicated.

And driving a motor vehicle while being in such a state is not a good idea. Luckily the beltway was nice to me and not that many people were still on the road. So I was less likely to kill someone. (Hey, it makes me feel better)

I then went back to sleep hoping I wouldn't wake up in the same state mentally. Well actually I was praying that I was no longer in Maryland either. Cuz that's where I got my ass handed to me. Via a bar.

The night started off with good intentions.
Great if you will.
I had driven in the nasty yucky rain to support two charities. Not one but TWO bitches. I was so going to heaven at this point in the night.

Anywho. The charitable event was a wine tasting.

(Keyword is tasting)

I tasted that Sauvignon Blanc over and over again.

It never did quite taste the same. Which is why I went back. Or at least I tried to justify my repeated visits to the bartender. She was not buying it and just kept giving me less and less in my glass.

I was slowly being cut off at a charity event?!?

Should have taken that as a sign right there.

So it was a meeting of former roommates at this event. We decided to go out for a drink after wards. I thought the whole point was to catch up. They thought the point was to get all wastey face.

They were totally right.

We hopped around Bethesdy and got soaking wet and danced the night away. I let some guy think that if he bought me enough shots he had a shot.

He didn't. And I am a typical girl at a bar. So shoot me.

My ass hit the dance floor and showed some Germans how we Americans do it. I shook my hair all in my face and shook my ass even more. That's how we Americans do it right?

Well they fancied me a bit. I kept getting trying to get them to do the "rock on" hand gesture but they kept telling me that it meant evil or the devil in other parts of the world.

Stupid Germans.

And while I'm talking about stupid people let me throw myself under the bus.

What is it with people that when someone buys a round of shots and puts one in front of you and you know you probably shouldn't do a shot of GM (insert your own poison here) but you feel bad and think "but I have to". No drunk ass (and I'm talking to myself here) You don't have to do it. You can politely refuse.

You can't? OH yeah. You right. Cuz if you do people like me will parade around calling you a "giant pussy". Man I am obnoxious. But I made 4 peoples night that night. And here's how:

Big Black Man who refused to do a shot with us. Deep down he enjoyed the curse laden rant that I went on telling him to get his ass on the dance floor or shut up. I swear he loved it. Or maybe his best buddy next to him loved it more. Either way they thought I was cool.

German guys. I already told you why they think I'm "fucking fantastic" Yeah I told them that was the cool thing to say. In a German accent it sounds quite comical might I add.

My girls. I introduced myself for the second time this week as Jessica. My name isn't Jessica. She is my alter ego. When I don't want to tell some *Rando my name, that is what I say. So Sharon and Veronica I salute you both for following my lead. And they loved me for my curse laden rant (stop me if you've heard this before) that I gave any douche who dared come up to us. (And I wonder why I don't have a boyfriend)

And cute boy who worked at the bar. He loved me because I was flirting with him all night and as we left the bar something came over me (the shot of GM, the Grape Bomb, the Kamikaze and or maybe the shot of Patron) and I grabbed his face and started kissing him. Yup.

I had to be reminded of this this morning. And all I can think of is what a story that will be for him to tell. (If nothing else, I'm at least entertaining!)

I then proceeded text the crap out of my ex. And call him "baby" like 100 times. But that's another story. And it may be why he isn't answering my calls today. Woops.

So all of that was crammed into a couple hours last night. I woke up, drove home and tried to sleep it off. Rolled into work looking like a Mack Truck hit me. I had a big grin on my face and realized I was still drunk. Thank God it was a slow day for lunchers at JobTwo because I took my ass home and went to sleep. Again.

And I woke up for the third time today at 7 pm.
Now where is that pesky ex boyfriend of mine? We are supposed to get together tonight. As for the dignity I am praying it finds its way back into my life.

...stay tuned.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Steady Chasin that Paper...

FOREWARNING: this post was written two weeks ago. I have just now finished it. The following story may or may not actually be in chronological order. It also may or may not contain facts and or real people. Mostly me. I apologize in advance for the way it is written but I was still reeling. I work seven days a week and try to fit a life in there. Sometimes it ends up like this particular weekend where I forget that there is such a thing as TOO MUCH. I will stand by my final conclusion though.

anddddd... ENJOY!

I have woken up from my 48 hour life-coma. (thanks for being worried, but I am totally okay, life-comas are like a little gap in the time space continuum when everything blurs together and someone tells me that I was awake and alive during all of it. I have no evidence to back this up but go with it.)

I spent most of the last 48 hours working.

And I don't think I can tell you what day it is. It doesn't really matter, I am just going to grogily stumble into JobOne and hope that I am scheduled. Well, wouldn't it be nice to walk in and not be scheduled. Then I could get back to my favorite place in the world.

Under the covers.

I think it's my own fault. Chalk it up to poor planning. (Look at me! I'm growing up, all taking responsibility and stuff. So what if I started it with "I think" instead of a more declarative statement...I'm working on it okay!)

Somewhere in the middle of the week I realized my weekend was shaping up to be a complete and utter disaster. Not until friday came around did I really know what I was in for.

I had to jet out of jobone early to get to my other obligation that I had made months earlier. God forbid I put things like this on a calendar of some sort. Come to think of it, maybe I did. But I am still working on the whole, looking at the calendar thing.

I just write stuff in it. Close it. Walk away. Never to read it again. Not sure it's helping.

Anyway. After volunteering for race packet pick up the evening before I realize that I have a way early morning that is shaping up to be fah reezing.

It was. 6 am never felt so terrible. I was at the race site for 3 hours. The bitter blistering cold wind was determined to make sure it felt like an eternity. I wasn't sure if I felt better being a volunteer and not signing my ass up to run, or realizing that the runners had some blood flow going and could have maybe felt their fingers and toes.

Either way it was cold. And I, well, I hate the cold.

I immediately packed my things and went right to JobOne. Left there to go home just in time to change for JobTwo. I worked there all night (Saturday nights bring out the Cougars, and they are hungry. For our food and any young men they can get their claws into... So we stay busy, Good for business I suppose)

I didn't leave until 11pm. Which meant that I had been working a total of 17 hours. In one day. Somehow I had also gotten sucked into working for someone Sunday evening. Which meant Sunday turned into a double.

Great. Someone clearly took advantage of my weakened state and pounced on it. The delirium had set in and I went home to sleep.

Text messengers be damned. Too many people trying to get into my head and convince me to start partying immediately after my 17 hour shift. I passed out 8 seconds after I stumbled into my room. I woke up Sunday morning to a s-u-p-e-r-s-l-o-w day.

This is where the time space continuum was broken. I was pretty sure, all of Sunday was still just a continuation of Saturday. I am also sure that none of my sleep went into the revitalizing of my body or mind. I think I just closed my eyes and my body was too tired to do anything else.

And that could be my reasoning behind why I convinced myself that only on this Sunday was I supposed to show up an hour later than all my other Sunday in times.Maybe also why I felt the need to get my button up shirt all starched ironed and ready, and then leave it inside my house.

I had however thought ahead enough on Saturday that I purchased a sugar free Red Bull (bread bowl to Morgan) Luckily OldLadyMoves saved me with a couple extra wrinkle free button ups in her trunk. And I was back in business. Worked a double and proceeded to be a mere shell of a human.

In the middle of my double I got off. Started to go home to sleep until my next shift. Until Cutie McOldPants.(Which incidentally is what I could call half of the men I attract and or date... shrug...) texted me and told me he was watching the game at the local hole.
I met him up there and (shh, don't tell my boss) had an RBV (short for Red Bull Vodka, and I promise to never use that abbrev again.)

I watched my Ravens take it to the freaking house. Anyone see Ed Reed run back the longest interception in NFL history. He surpassed the previous record. Oh wait he held that one too.God I love my team. Anyway, I was so jazzed from our (yes I have now started saying we, as in, me and the rest of my team. I just don't suit up and get on that field, but I am totally one of them! ) victory that I went home only to change my shirt and headed back to work.

Worked the evening shift and went home. I don't recall these events because by now I was out of my funk. Or maybe just so exhausted I couldn't think about being exhausted any more. All I wanted was sleep. So despite getting heckled by everyone who suddenly thought Sunday nights were the "it" night to go out. I went home to sleep.

At least thats what my brain said. My heart decided to try to fight the Red Bull in my system. I was fast away in dreamland when I lost my breath. I literally woke up gasping for air. I quickly fell back asleep only to writhe in agony for hours upon hours because I could not get my heart to pick a rhythm.

Mind you, I have been diagnosed with a heart murmur. When I was like 6. My parents were in the middle of a custody battle and I was a desperate middle child vying for attention. That's what everyone chalked this diagnosis up to be.

Years later I still suffer from bouts of tachycardia or bradycardia. It takes me just a few moments to gather myself and I am fine.

Not this night. My heart was have a full out battle. Maybe it was playing DDR and I didn't know it. Either way.

I am swearing off Red Bulls from this point on.

So now, Red Bull doesn't give you wings. It gives you freaking arrhythmia.

Yes I know that was an extremely long story just to tell you that I am never drinking an energy drink again but to put into words those god forsaken hours that were my weekend seems much harder after knowing I survived it. I was convinced the entire time that my life was ending.
And yes being a hypochondriac with no health insurance is a tough life to live!

...stay tuned.

Friday, December 5, 2008

Common Law

So in light of my most recent post I decided to write about something that has been going on in my life recently.

I am vying for common law marriage.


Not gay.

Just love the lady I live with and we joke often about her husband and how he is pretty much useless.

There's the manicures. The avoidance of all physical labor. The general inability to perform any athletics. The getting of the money. Oh wait, that's the good part.

So besides the fact that we will go and be whores and sleep with other men, we want to get married.

We like each other. We already know we can live together. Her kids could totally stop calling me their former nanny and start calling me their new "mommy"

We are both super hot, so we would be the ideal lesbians. Without actually being lesbians. But you know, the kinda that all guys want. The ones that they don't believe could really be lesbians (and we won't be) but the kind where they are kinda into each other but they aren't sure if its just girls that are close. (cuz some girls are like that, not that I know cuz my girl friends and I punch each other, a lot.)

This is a totally logical thought process. Don't you tell me all about common law and what it actually means. I am going solely on the basis that it means we can live together for a period of time (like 7 years or something) and then we will be granted the rights of, like a 5 year old who just got up from time out. Or something. Whatever we can do to screw him out of his own house and live happily together forever.

That's how it works right?

Anyway, tonight marks the, 3 month anniversary of my move in. We are totally on our way!

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Gym and Pam

As of Dec. One I am back in the gym. Oh thank god.

I was starting to rationalize never going back. The whole, well I only gained a couple-a pounds argument. When in reality it was much more because I lost a crap load of muscle.
I feel good just as I am , I would tell myself. (which I do but I know I will feel better when my arm muscles tell people not to eff with the 5 foot tall girl cuz she can do more push ups than you. And my abs scream, PUNCH ME! And my legs look like I could roundhouse kick Chuck Norris in the face, and hurt him) ( and yes, I have very specific goals in mind while in the gym) When in reality, I lost a crap load of muscle, I ran a 5k in 28 minutes and that's way too slow for me.

And then I realized this entire time I have been shelling out my hard earned cash to these suckers and I am only getting, fatter, lazier and poorer.


And believe you me, it's much too hard to try to get out of those contracts. So I dared not do that while I took that whole 4 months off!

So what I really want to point out is that I had forgotten how ridiculous the gym is everyday. I went at 3pm, on purpose, as to not be judged by so many faces.

I usually run my ass for 10 MAYBE 20 minutes and then I am off the treadmill. Or I swim a couple laps until my ass gets tired. Then out of the pool. Or I cycle 10-15 miles and I'm off the bike. Now I will be at the gym for a good 2 hours usually just not spent the entire time, I'm not part of the Vaginafest when you look at the cardio section. I like to life weights.

But that's not even what bothers me most. Because as much as I complain about this country being fat and how obese kids make my soul cringe. I know the people INSIDE the gym have taken a step in the right direction.(Me included, Yay me!)

But DUDE on the Eliptical. You are on a chick machine. You have to know that. Really though? You cant run the weight off? What about hitting a bike for a couple-a miles. Cuz gliding ever so gently on that machine while you push the handles back and forth slightly makes you seem like less of a man. I have got to be honest.

There are many issues I have with a gym, one being "those girls" who apparently can't lose calories unless they are in a matching outfit with their hair did.

There's the meat heads who usually work at most gyms, but some of them go there without being on the payroll. Nah fuck it, you guys can stay, you are all freaking hilarious. You will end up alone and sad despite your muscles on top of muscles. But you make my time at the gym go by quicker. Laughing burns calories right?

And despite all the cliche issues people have with the gym, I am so glad to be back in there.

And now, I must actually go because if I wait any longer, I will somehow come up with an excuse as to why I cannot go to the gym today. Like, if it's after 4 so I will inevitably run into the 987235 other kids from my high school that go there and I cannot bear one of those awkward conversations again(while they are on the eliptical....I think I just hate that machine)!

...stay tuned.