When in doubt, choose option c June 16, 2007

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Picture this: It’s a beautiful spring night. Your psychobitch roomie has just moved out and your pals are over helping you switch rooms. You’re working hard, laughing hard, and enjoying some pizza and booze. All of a sudden, there’s a knock on the door. You open it and see a much older, more decrepid and evil looking version (if that’s possible) of ex-roomie. It’s her mother – with ex-roomie in tow. She accuses you of stealing her daughter’s lamp, the same one that’s been sitting in the corner for the past 3 days. This doesn’t surprise you because you’re used to ridiculous accusations and paranoid ramblings by now. As you gladly hand over the ugly lamp and shut the door you hear her call you an unpleasant name. What do you do? a) Let it go. Be happy that it’s over with and you don’t have to worry about psychobitches anymore. b) Wish that you actually had stolen the lamp so that you could pull an Office Space scene and destroy it to the tunes of gangsta rap in the background. c) Run over to the open window and yell out, “Hey I think you forgot something else.” As they turn to look, whip out your middle finger and high five your friends as you all laugh. You are awesome. I don’t know about you, but when this happened to me last night, I chose door number 3. It was classic. On second thought, maybe I should’ve just shoved the lamp up her ass to go with the many other things that I’m sure are firmly lodged.  She’s finally gone.

Tucker Max is going to hell… and so am I June 16, 2007

And we now return to our regularly scheduled program. When we last left our heroine she was dealing with some serious BS. Like all episodic dilemmas in this, your most favorite blog, it’s all smiles and sunshine in the end.

I went to HH on Friday. Saturday afternoon I woke up in my room, still fully clothed, with my giant metal hair-thingy firmly indented into my skull (from sleeping on it all night). I guess it’s better than waking up without your clothes and a metal implement wedged somewhere else. Although, I do believe I’ve heard that story from someone before and they didn’t sound as traumatized as I might have imagined. Hmmm…  So, I later had a conversation with one of my good friends about that night. It went something like this:

Me: Lord, I don’t know why I feel so asstastic this morning. I only had four! (This was over a period of about 6 hours)

Friend: Yeah, but then you had that shot with me.

Me: (smacking my head in realization) Holy shit – the shots! That’s what did it.

So, yes. I did in fact have a valid reason for being extremely hungover. Multiple shots of tequilla will tend to do that. I know it was a good night because I didn’t puke - not in a red plastic solo cup or anywhere else for that matter. And… though I’d pretty much given up on meeting guys at bars, I ended up giving out my number to one guy. My thought was, “It doesn’t matter – he won’t call anyway.” But surprise, surprise – he did, and I just may be meeting up with him later on this week. Good times, indeed.

Once I finally dragged my ass out of bed on Saturday afternoon it was a mad dash to get ready for my lil shindig I was hosting that night. Normally, it wouldn’t have been a big deal, but the previous evening I had arrived home from work to a plundered apartment. The roomie, apparently in an attempt to win the award for All Supreme Bitch, decided to raid the apartment. Even though she’s not moving out until May, she took all of her furniture out of the place without telling me she was going to. Granted, it’s her ugly-ass shit and she can do what she wants with it, but it would be nice to have a friggin’ couch for people to sit on at my party. No worries, though. Liz is not only a superhero, as I’m sure you’ve realized by now (because, really, could a normal person put up with all this crap without stabbing someone?), she is also able to make the best of a bad situation. So, yes. Got a few pieces of furniture and was finally able to decorate the apartment and make it my own. No more hideous candleabras. It finally feels like I live there and I love it. My only fear is that I’m going to wake up tomorrow morning and the shower curtain will be missing. Now, that would be bitchy.   

Anyway, on to the party. It was a wine thing. Someone brought beer. Ha. It was definitely fun times. As the evening wore on, one of the things that came up in conversation was Mr. Tucker Max, author of “I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell.” Now, many of you may not have heard of this dude. Those of you who have either love him or hate him. I think he’s absolutely hilarious – the biggest douchbag on the planet, but a funny one. This guy is also a genius. He had a blog, and it got turned into a book. In this way, he’s my hero. Not because of his douchbaggery, but because he was able to get people to pay money for what would otherwise be free. So, if Tucker Max is going to hell, I probably am too. I have a shitload of stories that may not be quite on-par with TM, but they certainly do make a valient effort.

All in all, it was a lovely evening and one that I’ll probably be repeating fairly shortly. Til then, keep it real.

Mondays may not be the best way to spend 1/7 of your life, but this one’s not too bad at all.

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!

Liz to the rescue June 16, 2007

Thursday, December 07, 2006

I get home last night and there’s a bird in the apartment. Unlike the roomie, who vacated and refused to come back until it was gone (she left a message on voicemail about it), I don’t have any qualms about dealing with undomesticated animals. Hell, I used to date one. That’s beside the point though. After entertaining a brief fantasy involving the bird terrorizing the roomie for hours on end, somewhat mirroring Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds, I decided to handle the situation in the best way I could think of. I got out a broom, opened the apartment door, and proceeded to have the best 5 minutes of the day. I chased that little feathery bastard around until it finally decided that our place was, perhaps, not the best place to crap in and flew out the door. Mission accomplished. Liz saves the day yet once again.

Archive oblivion June 16, 2007

Thursday, October 19, 2006

My boss is out and, being the awesome person that I am, I’ve finished all the shiznit of the week. So, I’ve been perusing the archives of my ‘other’ blog and decided that this one was too good to let it disappear into oblivion. It’s from the good ol’ days at UofI. Cheers! 2002-04-25 – 10:18 a.m. Welcome! You’re on the gameshow network. I’m the announcer and host, Ricky Dick. Up next is the exciting new program, “Vacation Paradise!” where contestants can win fun-filled trips to places such as England, Hawaii, and even the exotic, Chambana. Let’s take a peek at our show. The first contestant on today’s show is Liz! Liz hails from the preppy cesspool of Rochester and enjoys mini-golf, eating leftovers, and flashing strangers when she’s drunk. Alright, Liz! Let’s get started. The rules for today’s game for Liz are as follows: 1) You can’t win, so don’t even try. 2) If you do try, you’ll only be even more disappointed in the end – but don’t worry, the audience will get a kick out of it. 3) Always put on a happy face or else you’ll disqualify yourself and lose all chances of even a consolation gift. Alrighty! Let’s get this show on the road! Liz, we’re going to ask you a series of questions. Your job is to answer them and then we’ll tell you if you answered correctly. Rick: So, Liz, tell us the equilibrium value for hydroflouric acid. Liz: Ummm…that would be Ka=7.2*10^-4, Dick. Dick: Oh, I’m sorry, Liz! Your answer is correct, but we require that you give us at least 3 significant figures. Too bad! On to the next question. What is the meaning of life? Liz: To have fun and live in the moment, of course. At least, that’s what I would hope it would be. Dicky: Gosh, wrong again! The meaning of life is to trudge along and work, work, work. Otherwise, you’ll never amount to anything in life. But wait, after your last chem test, you won’t be doing much of anything productive now anyway will you? Liz: I guess not Ricky: Yes, Yes, that is the correct answer! She got one ladies and gents! (applause) Liz: I didn’t know that was one of my questions… Ricky Dicky: Well, it was Liz – and for answering correctly, we’re going to send you on a ‘Vacation Paradise!” Liz: Oh, really! Oh my God! Where do I get to go!? Dick: Well, Liz – where would you like to go? Liz: Ummm…I’d be happy with just about anything. Spain would be nice. But I don’t have to go to a foreign country. Hawaii would do nicely. How about Florida? Dick: I’m sorry. Liz! Were you actually trying to sound excited or did you think we were going to give you a good vacation? Don’t answer that. Anyway, we’re sending you on a 1 night, 1.5 day trip to St. Louis! You’ll get to carpool, share a bed with 3 other people, and – best of all – skip out on your very last class of the year! Liz: Hey, wait a minute – I actually like that class. Rick Dicky: Take it or leave it? Liz: I’ll take it…I guess. Ricky: Wonderful! Let’s continue on with our next contestant, Caty. Caty is from the exotic college-town of Chambana. Caty, what’s it like to be a townie? Caty: Well, Dickmeister – I think it’s really great! Rick: Yes! That is the answer we were looking for! You’ve won the grand prize – it’s an all expenses paid trip to France with your father! (applause) Caty: Woooooohoooo!!!! Dick: And for the rest of the audience, we have a consolation gift. You all get the wonderful opportunity to finish your papers, cram for finals, and – as always – drink till ya can’t drink no more! Audience: oh…woo (murmers) hoo.

Standards? What are those? June 16, 2007

Sunday, October 15, 2006

After the week I’d had, my sole goal for the weekend was to get shitty. Goal accomplished. I should get a gold star. A few things I learned from the past few day’s excursions: 1) I can drink to excess without puking into a cup. Who knew? And, no… no puking elsewhere was done by me at any point this weekend at all. I think I deserve a high five for that one, ladies and gents. 2) When you park overnight somewhere, be sure to have a backup plan for when your car doesn’t start in the morning. You can’t always expect the guy who drives the car parked right next to yours to show up at exactly the right time to help you out. Karma? Yes, I do believe so. You also can’t expect to have a friend who knows all about cars to help you change the battery. Although, given my luck, I can and do expect it. I’m hoping it doesn’t run out… 3) New Jersey has once again come up with something totally asinine. A new word originated there” “borny.” It apparently means bored and horny all at the same time. That pretty much qualifies for all of my weekends, depending on how much I’ve had to drink. Luckily (or not so luckily, depending on your perspective) my midwest standards have kept me from doing anything regrettable. 4) My roomie doesn’t apparently have any such said standards. I happened to catch her getting out of a car this morning that belonged to a much older, unattractive gentlemen. She looked like a hooker -a  very tired hooker.  Forget Jersey. Maybe I should come up with my own new word: dweezer. It means old creepy geezer and describes the kind of guy who probably wishes he hadn’t paid so much for my cheap ho-bag roomie. (Seriously… this is all speculation. My roomie could be a very overpriced ho-bag for all I know.) 5) Wine is good. I like it. And, no, I’m not just talking about Boone’s Farm. 6) Dinner parties are good. Especially when there is wine. The presence of a few good-looking guys doesn’t hurt either. Plenty of each this weekend. 7) I like football. I knew this already, but after attending my first live NFL game, I gained a new appreciation. Only sucked though b/c someone had to go and puke through the second half. That someone was not me. Ah well.. I heard they lost, so I guess I didn’t miss much. If you go to public sporting events, it’s best to forego the hard liquor prior to the game. Stick with the $7 beer if you have to drink. The price will deter excess and save you from an afternoon of dry heaving. Helping friends move may not be all peaches and cherries, but it’s cool to be able to do something worthwhile and lend a hand. It’s also cool to get a bunch of free old clothes that would otherwise get thrown out in the move. That’s it. I could go on, but the details are just flair and I’ve got other things to do with the one evening I’ve had this week to spend at home. Keepin’ it real in DC and beyond!

“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?

Naked vacumming: the cool new thing to do June 16, 2007

Saturday, August 26, 2006

First weekend evening where I don’t actually have anything to do. I’m not sure if I’m relieved at having the ability to just chill out or if I’m a little resentful that no one’s called to do anything. I’m going to go ahead and enjoy the evening. If I’m not in my room vacuuming naked, then I’ll probably chill out on the couch and watch a flick. I’ll have to put clothes on for that though – my roomie’s back from PA.

Oh, I think I’ve figured out why she hides in her room all the time and never comes out. She’s running a meth lab. That’s right. Funky smells, weird noises. What else could it be? Either that or she’s doing the same thing I do in my room. Naked vacuuming. Ha! That would be kinda coincidental, wouldn’t it?

Just a lil thought for your Saturday evening. No, I’m not bored. I’m just restless