Step 1: Invite me and my friends out to trivia and proceed to speak at a volume that can only be heard by bats.
Step 2: When I try to be nice and invite you out with my friends, make it awkward by leaving an empty chair between me and you.
Step 3: Use email facebook messaging as your primary form of communication with me.
Step 4: Be oblivious to the fact that my friend and I are absolutely bored off our ass when we are playing trivia with you.
Step 5: Ask me out via text message. Not only that, but ask if it would be presumptuous to ask me if I’d like to go out. And make sure it’s your birthday so I feel bad if I reject you.
Step 6: Assume my lack of response means I didn’t get the message and call me later that night. From your birthday party. Where you are probably drunk.
Step 7: Write a Facebook status update that says: “If you’re too busy texting on your iphone to talk to me around your entourage, then why don’t you go find someone more interesting to play your games with.” Make me wonder if it’s about me or if you’ve successfully bored another person to death.
Step 8: Ask me out again via text message to go get lunch at my favorite wing place even though we haven’t spoken/texted since the previous text. (I guess the status update wasn’t meant for me?)
Step 9: Ignore the lack of response from the text message and comment on my Facebook status.
Step 10: Smoke so much weed that every sentence starts with ’sooooo’ or ‘ummmm’ and have albums on Facebook dedicated to your cats or graffiti you’ve photographed.
My friend Katie (I’m using real names here! Scandalous!) from Eight Thirty Eyes has started doing top ten lists and I suggested she write a list about how awesome I am. After telling her this, I realized how demanding I can be at times all the fucking time, and since I’m trying to accept that the world does not revolve around me (a harsh reality to face), I thought I’d write the top ten reasons why she’s awesome.
In no particular order:
1. She takes me on trips that her stations pay for. Like to Vegas. And sporting events. And concerts.
2. She’s always up for going out and getting crazy but still follows her moral compass back to safety. Which is something I seem to have misplaced.
3. She knows the importance of being on time. More importantly, she knows the importance of being on time when hanging out with me.
4. My occasional smoking needs are met when I’m around her. Cigarettes, people!
5. She knows what shows are going to be cancelled before anyone else.
6. She is the most organized person I’ve EVER met.
7. She’s one of the few (few may not be the right word, but she is the most vocal) people at church who is wanting me to return.
8. When we go places, she always offers to pick me up.
9. We like the same kind of wine and beer.
10. She thinks I’m awesome. And anyone who thinks I’m awesome, is A-OK in my book.
I totally can’t wait to see what she says about me 
Beer good.
Published May 31, 2009 That was random. 1 CommentTags: alcohol, beer, drinking, pole dancing, strip clubs
Jools (to bartender): I’d like a Jack and Diet please.
Me: Hey! What are you doing ordering my favorite drink? (naturally, no one else on the planet is allowed to drink my drink)
Bartender Dan: Do you want one as well?
Me: Um no. I’m sort of banned from Jack Daniels.
Bartender Dan: Really? Why? Do you do stupid stuff when you drink it?
Me: You could say that…
Jools: IT MAKES HER RANDY!
(a few minutes later)
Bartender Dan (to the guy sitting next to me): I think you should buy her a shot of Jack Daniels.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jools (who is from South Africa): Hey, what does douchebag mean exactly? Doesn’t it mean dork or something?
Me: No! It means something worse than asshole!
Jools: Oh shit! I just called the manager a douchebag!
Last night, Jools and I went to the Exotic Dancer National Championship. Highlights included:
- A woman putting on a puppet show between her legs. It was set to the song, ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia’ and the puppet was the devil who played the ‘fiddle’.
- A fire breather who couldn’t even get the torches lit. Even after 5 tries.
- A chick sliding around on the wet floor. It was actually pretty entertaining.
It was pretty entertaining and made me miss my pole dancing classes. Afterward, we went out in East Atlanta Village, which will be the home of my new watering hole when I move. We had so much fun and made friends with bartenders, managers and even a cop. At one bar, most of our drinks were comped which was quite refreshing since a certain establishment doesn’t seem to care about their patrons very much.
When the night was over, we stopped at Krystals and devoured several mini cheeseburgers and chili cheese fries.
Today I woke up and realized I only spent $15 the entire night (including Krystals). I also woke up with another bottle of hot sauce in my purse.
That, my friend, is a whole other story.
I always find ways to make my parents and friends proud, and my latest endeavor is sure to have my loved ones beaming with pride. While not as controversial as my previous endeavor, it is bound to raise some eyebrows among those with moral compasses. Or something. Or not.
ROLLER DERBY!
I originally toyed with the idea of trying out for it back in the fall but thought you needed skating experience and, obviously, I have none. On Tuesday night, however, I went to a friend’s house to watch a movie and some of her friends who were there are actually Atlanta Rollergirls. They informed me that you didn’t need experience because everything will be taught to you. And of course I got totally giddy. Have you seen the outfits they wear? We know how I feel about dressing up. Mainly, I just like the striped socks. I’m not kidding either.
Naturally, the first thing I thought about was what my name should be. I had previously thought of a name, Hellen Wheels, but apparently there are rules regarding names and another girl in Tuscon has the name Helen Wheels, and I’d have to get permission, blah blah blah. Too much work if you ask me. So I went on teh interwebs to find a roller derby name generator and typed in my real name. Out popped Blondie BackstabHer. No really. Thinking it was a coincidence, I tried again using my first name only. Blondie Affliction. My first name actually generates the name Blondie. WEIRD. Its like it was meant to be!
Of course I’ll have to pass the try out before I can really start thinking of a name. Luckily for me, they aren’t until September, so I’ll have plenty of time to strap on some skates and get my butt in shape.
In completely random news, has anyone visited the site www.modcloth.com? It’s my new favorite place. I heart.
Did you know you can buy boxes on Craigslist? Fundraiser knew that and purchased 40 packing boxes of various sizes and three spools of bubble wrap to use for her upcoming move. And then left them in her car. And was completely oblivious to the fact that they smelled HORRIBLE. And made me ride around in her car with the skanky box smell.
What does that have to do with this post? Nothing. I just promised her I’d title a blog entry in honor of it.
So what’s new kiddos?
Let’s start with me. I’m starting my search for a new place to live (and a new roommate). There are three areas of Atlanta that I love, Decatur, Little 5 Points and East Atlanta, and all have a pretty eclectic/alternative vibe with awesome bars. It’s where all the people with tattoos live. And we all know that a guy can be as dumb as shit but I’d still want to fuck his brains out if he has a decent amount of artwork. That’s a fact. The rent is cheap in these areas too. The downside is that my commute to work will suck and there’s a little more crime, but hell, my car was broken into inside my gated apartment complex in one of the most pretentious neighborhoods in Atlanta. I’ll buy a bat. And a gun.
What else?
No really. What else do I have to talk about?
Shit. Well, this post went downhill really fast. I guess I got nothing.
Sigh.
I’m bored.
I rallied the troops last night and went to Cheers for Cinco de Mayo (don’t ask why I went to an Irish bar on a Mexican holiday – it’s a long story) – we hung out, drank, took pictures and went home at a reasonable hour. After getting home, I made myself a snack and started uploading the pictures to Facebook…and then stopped. I looked at all the pictures being uploaded and realized something: these pictures are identical to all my other ones. The people, location, facial expressions – all the same. Its the same week after week.
I love my little neck of the woods but there’s not much to do here and lately, the most fun I’ve had is when I’ve explored different areas of town. Atlanta has a bunch of little neighborhoods with tons of bars and restaurants and a good community feel.
I want that.
I’m tired of having the same backdrop for my photos and seeing the same regulars week after week. I’m ready for a change.
I just hope my roommate is on board.
The good news is that I think I’m finally sober.
The bad news is that it’s 11:30 in the morning and I’m at work.
How’s that for awesome?
Last night looked a little something like this:
Met up with Grabs at a bar by her house.
Hit on by redneck dude who thought he had a chance.
Ruthlessly threw Grabs under the bus.
Drank beer.
Made an escape after Grabs gave dude her number.
Went to another bar that seemed to cater to older people on Thursday nights.
Hit on by old dudes.
Watched the Celtics lose. Boo.
Drank margarita.
Saw a man in a suit leave with a woman wearing a denim jumper. Yes, she was a hooker.
Left to go to more crowded bar club/restaurant next door.
Drank margarita.
Ran into the Big Italian.
Stole some seats at the bar and realized the hooker was sitting next to us.
Overheard the dude she was with comment to his friend “Hey, I found you some friends for the night.” He was referring to us.
Turned down a Peruvian guy’s offer to dance.
Drank margarita.
Finally accepted guy’s offer.
Stepped on his feet.
A lot.
Was spun.
A lot.
Realized flip flops are not good to dance in.
Drank margarita.
Went back to check on Grabs.
Peruvian dude brought friend over. He was from Belgium and looked like he survived on chocolate and beer.
Drank some drink the guys brought us.
Was probably roofied.
Realized I was more drunk than I thought.
Went to Waffle House with slowest cook ever.
Took drunk pictures of salt shaker and condiments.
Laughed about how funny the words ’special’ and ‘patty’ looked.
Got home at 3:00.
Woke up at 7:00.
My car is a piece of crap. Granted, I love it dearly and will cry profusely when it goes to the big parking lot in the sky, but it does little more than get me from A to B (most of the time). One of it’s current issues is a leak in the A/C line. I’ve had the issue for several years now and the typical home remedy is to add a leak sealer and recharge it. This particular time, I added the refrigerant and then the sealer as indicated on the instructions, but apparently didn’t seal the nozzle completely when I added the sealer.
The stuff sprayed all over my engine, the ground below and my hands as I was trying to plug the hole. I got the situation under control and was finishing up when I heard a voice behind me.
“Oh my God! Are you ok?”
I turned to find my neighbor standing behind me with a look of terror on her face.
“Oh yeah, I’m just recharging my A/C,” I replied and gave her a “I know you don’t know what I’m talking about” smile. She continued to stare for a second longer and then turned around and left.
I then realized the reason behind her look of terror; the engine, the ground and my hands were covered in the sealant which is dyed bright red to help locate leaks…
And looks a helluva lot like blood.
Pub prom is this weekend and I’m having a bit of a wardrobe crisis. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t find a good dress at Goodwill to wear for this year’s prom, so I figured I’d just wear my dress from last year and find some kick ass accessories to make it look edgy (hair will be dyed pink). Tonight at book club, Leeny showed me some of her old prom dresses and now I don’t know what to do. Let’s take a look, shall we?
First we have this green one with rhinestones. Green is my favorite color, but how will I make it look less formal and more fun? (The dress hits right below my knee, btw)
Next, we have the polka dot dress. I could swap out this ribbon for a bright color, but how would I accessorize?
Finally, we have my dress from last year. It’s little. It’s black. It looks 80’s and/or totally slutty. I could go trampy; I do have all the accessories for that. (Thank you pole dancing classes!)
So tell me what to do!! Please??
