Passive-aggressive isn’t just her middle name – it’s her way of life June 16, 2007

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

I swear to God, the bitch is crazy. I walk into the apartment after getting home from work yesterday and it’s back. That’s right, the furniture that she had moved out on Friday is back. She took it just so that I wouldn’t be able to use it for my party on Saturday. Since I already bought some stuff to replace it (because I had no idea she was taking it, much less planning on bringing it back), there’s no room for it. The coffee table and bench are sitting in the corner of the living room, behind the door. And now there are boxes piled on top of the kitchen table, too. What’s more, she took down the curtain rod that I had hung my curtains on, just so I wouldn’t be able to use it. I put them back up with my own curtain hooks. Seriously, I didn’t think she could get any more passive-aggressive. I bet I’m going to wake up tomorrow and the shower curtain will be gone. She’s already taken the ugly fuzzy toilet seat cover. Do you think I should start hoarding the TP? I’m not even dignifying her actions with a response. No good can come of it. I’ve posted an ad on CL to try to find someone not psycho. I especially like the header, “$750 Non-crazy roomate wanted to share LARGE 2 br. apartment.” Check it out http://washingtondc.craigslist.org/nva/sub/289239333.html And if you know anybody who’s looking, send ‘em my way.

Life can’t always be smiles and sunshine June 16, 2007

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Maturity. Sometimes it comes with age. Sometimes it comes from a particularly sobering situation. Some people have it. Some people don’t. A lot of people, when they first meet me, notice how young I look and write me off as being one of those who lack it, one of Them, one of the pretty yet vapid 20-somethings out there who link maturity with stodginess and advanced age. However, I’m not one of Them. Ive been told, on more than one occasion and by multiple different sources, that I have a sense of maturity – even a certain clarity of mind – that most people don’t. When people realize this, it sometimes surprises them. It shouldn’t. I think there’s a certain acceptance in our society of immaturity that has become so ingrained that it makes people who exercise restraint and good judgement seem out-of-place. This is sad. What’s even more sad is that I’ve recently had to confront a situation where my own maturity was called into question. This was done by someone who I considered a friend and who, upon seeing the situation play itself out, appears to lack this same maturity that was called into question. I’m not going to go into details, because – honestly – I hate the drama and I don’t want this to turn into something for people to gossip about within the circle of friends. However, I feel the need to justify myself in a forum that I can control. So here it is, in the least amount of specificity as possible: Something happened. Extenutating circumstances that will not be discussed, because it’s not my place to discuss them. My friend, whose presence and involvement had been planned months in advance, backed out of something that was very important to me. No worries. I can handle it on my own. However, I felt it was rude and personally insulting to back out of this thing so last minute (less than a week’s notice). I told them so, in a fairly unpleasant email. They replied, in kind, with a similarly unfriendly message. A bit of back-and-forth escalated and, not wanting to burn any bridges, I tried to make light of the situation and said we should chill and that we would probably laugh about it in the future. My friend called and left an unpleasant message saying that I was “certifiably insane” if I thought we would be laughing about this later on. I called to clear the air and try to mend things, fully intending to apologize if there were some misunderstanding of the situation and reasoning. I was hung-up on. Not very mature, if you ask me. I called back and left a message, again trying to clear the air. A day or two later I came to notice that I had been un-friended from the shared virtual spaces that we both were on, as well as been un-invited to certain events that I was looking forward to. These actions are not only petty  and spiteful, but they are extremely immature. I find it ironic that this person found it necessary to question my maturity and then went on to do these things. This so-called friend even had the audacity to tell me I shouldn’t blog about this. And, honestly, I wasn’t planning to – that is, until they went and took it to the next level. Come on – are we in high school? This is ridiculous. I’ve sent one last email, imploring them to take a step back and chill the f- out (albeit, not in quite the same phrasing), so we’ll see what happens. My disappointment in my friend is seriously unnerving, and I’m not one who takes disappointment lightly. I know I have people who have my back and I think it’s clear that I’ve done all I can to remedy this situation. What goes around comes around, and I have karma on my side. Sorry this wasn’t the most uplifting or funny post. I know I try to keep it light most times, but every once in awhile I have to be serious when I have things on my mind. It’s good to have an outlet. Smiles and sunshine – keep it real, my peeps.

Leaving on a jet plane June 16, 2007

Friday, February 09, 2007

I have been ridiculously busy the past couple weeks. Granted, I’d rather be busy than bored, but I never thought I’d get to a point where I’d have to turn down invitations to go out because I imagine that if I slept any less I’d start hallucinating that I’m a superhero or something. Hmm… too late, I guess. Not only has this week been a busy one at work with me trying to cram in two week’s worth of work into two day’s time (chalk it up to my impending trip to San Francisco and my 2nd Master’s class), but my personal time has been riddled with drama. You know how much I hate the drama. Whatever could it be, you ask? What else? – the only thing that sucks out here (in more ways than one, I’m sure) is the roomie situation. And so the saga continues… After the roomie’s rude, yet predicatable, behavior at my dinner party of sorts which I hosted at my place a couple of weeks ago, I left a lil note (very pleasant, giving her no excuse to get upset with me) requesting an audience. Days passed – no reply. So I called the bitch. She let it go to voicemail, so I left a message saying basically the same thing; “We need to talk.” I laid it all out on the line and threw in the white flag. I said I realized we both were not happy and I was willing to move, etc. I know she purposefully didn’t pick up the phone to talk to me b/c less than 5 minutes later she texted back. How do you spell passive-agressive? S-T-A-C-Y. Regardless, we eventually settled on a day to chat. The day comes and I started to say, “So…” And before I could go any further she interuppted and said in her wanna-be valley girl condescending tone, “Before you even say anything, I was already planning on moving out.” Greeeattt. And she just wasn’t going to tell me? WTF. Anyways, it turns out she’s moving sometime in mid-April and will be completely out by May 1st. As soon as the convo was over I went back to my room and proceeded to jump up and down and do a little happy dance. It was awesome. Now, as many of you may know – since I do tend to enjoy telling stories - the situation with the roomie has been a bit tense. Many of you didn’t believe my stories at first. But, after the party I believe all doubt was put to rest by the witnesses. I’ve been contemplating alternative living situations and have been entertaining some options. Now, it seems, I can actually start figuring things out. Not quite yet though, but soon enough. I’m taking my little business vacation next week to chill and put all of the drama aside. Speaking of my trip. In case you haven’t heard, I’m going to San Francisco for the AAAS annual meeting next week. I took a few extra days for myself, and my dad’s coming out to spend some time. No, I’m not planning on being a fag-hag or eating a bunch of rice, but I certainly do plan on making the most of it. We’re going on a helicopter tour over the Bay and renting a car to drive to San Jose and Sausilito. Fun times. It will be a much needed and well-deserved break. So if I’m MIA for longer than usual on here, never fear. I’ll have a ton of stories to share when I get back. Cheers!

Lather, rinse, repeat June 16, 2007

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

I’ve been having computer issues at work lately. It hasn’t been pleasant. In an effort to make light of the situation and keep myself from screaming at the top of my lungs in the middle of the office, I’ve decided to take a break from and blog about it. Here’s the narrative of what most of my day has been like: -Oh shit. What the hell just happened? The screen just turned off, but the computer’s still running. Control. Alt. Delete. Damnit. No effect. Escape. Nothing. Damnit. WTF. Turn the screen off and then on again (x5). Shit. Master button off, wait 3 seconds, and reboot. Completely login again. Everything looks fine. Didn’t lose anything. Sweet. Back to work. 20 min. later, same thing. Sonofabitch.  This happened intermittently throughout the day. I fried one PC last week – something to do with the processer. They were able to salvage the hard drive and just insert it into a different console. Shouldn’t there be a statute of limitations on how many times you can be given a lemon?

Don’t feel bad…I’m laughing too June 16, 2007

Saturday, October 07, 2006

I know it’s been awhile since my last post, folks. Sorry. I usually save this kind of thing for work. Lately, though, I’ve actually had a lot of work to do at work. Go figure. But, rest assured. I would never disappoint my loyal fanbase – all 5 of you. Ha. So, sit down and feel free to point and laugh the next time you see me. This one’s a doozy. I think I mentioned in my last post that I was going to attempt the speed dating thing. One of my friends told me about it and, after careful consultation with some of my peeps (one of whom laughed and said, “Only you, Liz. Only you.” ), I decided to give it a shot. If nothing else, it makes for good blogging fodder. So I singed up for this thing. It was held last Tuesday at the Front Page, which – coincidentally – happens to be right in the same building as my office. This convenience was one of the main selling points. However, what I failed to realize was that the very night that this thing was supposed to be going on was the same night that the NSF was hosting its monthly lecture, Cafe Scientifique. This thing is a public lecture held at the Front Page every first Tuesday of the month; most who attend are actually NSF faculty. So, while I’m sitting inside working my magic on the men – right next to the big event sign, no less – a bunch of my coworkers are sitting, watching me through the window during the lecture as they conspicuously try not to point and laugh. About halfway through, a couple of them came in to wave and smirk. Lovely. Regardless, it was still a good experience. Not one that I think I’ll ever be repeating, but an interesting night nonetheless. The group of chicks there were all pretty cool and well put-together. The guys though were a different story altogether. It was pretty obvious why some of them had to resort to speed dating to meet women. I heard one of the lamest answers to my “what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done” question. The guy was all like, “Well… I’m not much of a crazy person but I once ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich without the jelly.” So I’m sitting there thinking… ummm… yeah… so this dude just ate a peanut butter sandwich. It took me a minute to realize he was trying to be funny. As my old roomie and good friend, Chris, would say, “Unfunny joke. No, really. Stop. It’s not funny.” I didn’t say it, but I sure as hell was thinking it. I didn’t want to be mean though. It was already sad enough of an attempt without rubbing salt in the wound. Anyway, so the evening ended without meeting anyone of significance. I honestly cannot see myself going out with any of the guys I met that night. Definitely an experience for the future best-selling autobiography. Since we’re on the subject of meeting men… I heard one of the best bad pickup lines ever not too long ago. Actually, it may just have moved up to being a good pickup line since it’s a spinoff of one I’ve heard before. Here goes: So I’m sitting at a bar-like area with some pals and my back is turned to this dude. I turn around slightly to get another drink and while I’m waiting for the bartender’s attention, the guy asks, “Why do you hate me?” Now, normally, an unsuspecting chick would then say, “What? I don’t hate you. Why would you say that?” And then the guy would go, “Because you’ve been ignoring me all this time when all I wanted to do was talk to you and maybe buy you a drink.” Well, that’s how it went the first time a heard it back in the day, and it actually worked alright.  This time though I just wasn’t in the mood and so I replied, “Oh, it’s not me that hates you. It’s my friend here. She thinks guys who wear pink shirts are pricks.” He didn’t quite know how to respond, so it kind of nulled the attempt. I must admit though, the whole pink shirt thing… a little overdone. Oh… and speaking of things that just are not a good idea. Molester Mike has convinced me to hang out with him outside of the kickball gang. He’s actually a really cool guy when he’s sober, but his antics from the last time I saw him (which I blogged about not too long ago) kinda skeeved me out. It’ll be interesting to see how he is away from the team. I think he’s coming to this comedy show thing on Wednesday with me. My friend Emily said she might go, so it’ll be a good thing to have someone there to get my back if things don’t go so smoothly. Fun times. Anyway… that’s it for the evening. My mother’s in town this weekend, so rest assured there will be plenty more coming along shortly. I’ve been trying really hard to be pleasant with her, but she makes it so damned difficult sometimes. Makes me wanna smack a bitch. That’s all I’m going to say for now. More to come, folks. Til then, peace out. And don’t forget to make your donations to the Liz Lawrence Fund for Excellence. The fiscal year has ended, but your donation is tax deductible if made before Dec 31. I;m not kidding on this one. I will totally take your money if you want to give me some. Cool Liz can’t be so cool if she doesn’t have the cash.  Anyways, peace out, my peeps.

The bastards that run metro June 16, 2007

Sunday, October 01, 2006

I love the metro in this city. It gets me where I need to go, with only a slight chance for me getting lost, and usually the people who sit next to me give off a slightly less repulsive odor than the ones on the bus. However my experience with the metro this past Thursday gave me pause.

As you probably know, Thursdays are my kickball days. It’s something I look forward to every week. This week was supposed to be the last game, but by the time we got out there, it had started pouring. Now, we’ve played in the rain before, but it was absolutely pouring out. No one was around and we found out that all of the games had been called. The last time a game was called was b/c of the tropical storm, El-crappo, last month. Anyways… it was disappointing, to say the least. I had been really psyched about the last game and getting to see everybody before the season ended. Of course, people were still planning on heading to the bar, but I definitely wasn’t feeling it and neither were my friends. We headed back to the metro in the pouring rain. Got to the escalator and started walking down. About halfway down my foot slipped on the slippery wetness and I fell. It wasn’t that bad, in terms of falling down and escalator. I only went down about two steps. However, upon landing, my forearm went right into one of the little spiky teeth on the steps. When I got up, the act of wrenching my arm off of the step caused the subcutaneous tissue to get pulled out a bit. There was blood and grossness. It was not pleasant. My friends were horrified. I got up and walked over to the manager’s station and asked the metro personell inside for a band-aid or some first aid stuff. They looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. I held up my bloody gushing arm, which was, by then, dripping all over the floor, and they finally seemed to get the picture. The lady inside took her time though. They actually ended up getting a mop and cleaning up the floor before they gave me anything for my arm. Bastards.

Anyway, long story short – no stitches needed. I went to the nurse at work the next day and she said it looked like it would be ok. That’s definitely a good thing. Guess I’ll just have to wait for some other misadventure to test out whether or not my new insurance is all it’s cracked up to be.

“Tying to push every bottom” June 16, 2007

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

You know things have taken a turn for the worse when you have to resort to writing notes in order to communicate with the roomie. Yes, ladies and gents, even though it’s 2006 apparently we are back in the third grade. At least my sense of fashion since then has improved. Instead of passing notes about who likes who and making fun of the teacher, we’re bickering about petty, petty issues. But, hey – at least I don’t have to deal with her yelling at me and insulting me to my face. Now it’s all on paper. Aside from blatently insulting me and comparing me to a drug addict (I’m not kidding), she insinuates that I was “tying to push every bottom .” That’s verbatim. I can only assume that she meant I trying to bush her buttons by attempting to communicate in a low-volume, non-confrontational manner. However, if I was “pushing her bottom,” I could understand where she might be upset. I’m not much for the ass-action either. Ha. Regardless of the fact that she can’t write a complete sentence or pass a third grade spelling test, I got the point. This is not good, people. Not good at all. This is exactly why I prefer to live alone. I hate dealing with ignorant, self-absorbed people who can only get their point across by resorting to meaningless insults. It’s things like this that make me appreciate other people all-the-more. I miss my old roomie, Chris. That girl was awesome. Two years of ghetto-style dancing, pulling all-nighters, laughing about life, and all-around good times. I miss Sara and Caty (gasp*) too. That summer in Chambana was the best summer of my life, despite the drama towards the end. As roomies, they were some of the best. Damn. I’m getting all nostalgic now. I hate when this happens. I don’t know what I would do without my friends. It just sucks that most of them are from back-in-the-day and we’ve all scattered now. I see them once, maybe twice a year if I’m lucky. It’s good to know I can call them when I need to at least. And thank God for AIM. Sure, I’m making friends around here, but it’s not the same. They’re awesome, but it’s going to take time to build it up. Let’s look at it this way though… The degenerating roomie situation is forcing me to spend more time than I already am out doing stuff. I’m obviously meeting a lot of new people and having a great time here in DC. If this is the only thing that’s sucking more than your mom right now, then life is pretty damn good. Enough of the seriousness… Obviously pulling a 60 hour work-week is not something I should be doing (not that I have any choice). It makes me not nearly as fun(ny) as I usually am. On a side note, I watched Jersey Girl last night for the first time. Every time Ben Affleck had a dramatic scene, I couldn’t help but laughing. He tries so hard, but all I could hear in my head was that song from Team America. One of the lines is, “I need you like Ben Affleck needs acting school.” I’m not trying to hate though. I’d still jump him if the opportunity arose. Anyways… can’t spend all day on this. I have too much stuff to do for work.

Random bitchery June 16, 2007

Sunday, September 10, 2006

The effervescence of the awesomeness had to dissipate eventually. Just sucks that it couldn’t hold on for just a little while longer. The shit hit the fan with the roomie today. Hey, at least we made it past a month. I do my best to avoid the drama, but every time I see her, she has to bitch about something else. Sorry, honey, but the minute you start yelling a tiny neuron in my brain pops and all I can think to say is “Simma down naw.” Guess she doesn’t appreciate the art of a calm and constructive conversation. Even if it would only be to bitch at a lower volume, it would have been nice. First it was the cable. I gave in and disconnected – even though it’s a live cable line regardless of if it’s hooked up or not. Then it was the hand towels in the bathroom. I guess drying your hands is a very OCD process – who knew? I gave in and bought my own. After that it was the air freshener. Jesus Christ – I let it go. Then the teflon pan. Again, I conceded. The dishes (which… btw, we had already discussed and agreed to make a non-issue). Gave in… again. But this time – this time – my bike. No fucking way. I am not putting my bike outside to get stolen. There is no secure place to chain it and I use it ALL the time. It is not in her way and it does not even take up that much space. Her problem? “It looks bad.” My response: “There are a lot of things in this apartment that look bad and need remedy. My bike is not one of them.” It has its own little spot which is very out-of-the way. It will not fit in my room b/c my room is half the size of hers (even though we pay the same amount). There is no where else for me to put it and it’s not in the way. This seriously should not be an issue. I am really starting to get pissed that she keeps trying to start drama. I will not be a doormat. This time I am not giving in. My bike is one of the most valuable things I have here. I apologized, but insisted that it stay put. She kept yelling and I told her to calm down and that made her even angrier, so she went in her room and slammed the door. Immature? You bet. I apologized again when she came out later, but she just said “Don’t even talk to me.” in that lovely condescending tone she has. Good. If she’s not talking to me, she’s not bitching at me. Let’s see how long it lasts… Seriously though – am I wrong to refuse on this one?