Here goes nothing.

Look! I’m attempting to blog! I have about a dozen half-written blog entries that I don’t feel like finishing. Such is my life these days.

This morning I woke up exhausted. One of my smoke alarms has started beeping at random hours of the night and the sound absolutely terrifies Dixie, and when she’s scared she likes to lay on top of me. It’s never the “Holy shit! Evacuate! Evacuate! Women and children first” noise, but the “Hi…Hi…It’s me. Your smoke alarm. Hi…Hi…” and is on the ceiling we can’t reach without a ladder, which we don’t have yet. So at 2AM (just like the night before!) I found Dixie on my head, and had trouble falling back asleep after that.  Now, I’m trying to tell myself that I don’t need to rest my eyes for five minutes even though there’s no one in the office right now besides me.  

This past weekend, I had my first true ghetto experience. Around 1AM on Saturday morning, I was trying to fall asleep and heard a knock at my side window. I froze and thought to myself, “Do burglars announce that they are about to rob people?” As I mentally planned my getaway, I heard walking outside and another knock at my front window followed by the sounds of a car door opening and closing and a car driving away.

I sat on my bed terrified while hugging Dixie and thanking her for barking at them. What if they were casing the place to rob it? What if they were going to come back that night? I then did what any sensible person would do — I barricaded myself in my room. My bed already blocked one window and I just slid my dresser in front of the other and waited for morning.

When I recounted the story to anyone who would listen, they all agreed that it probably wasn’t someone looking to break in. Why would they knock on the windows and park their car out front by the floodlight? Chances are it was just someone either a. being an asshole, b. wanting to fuck with me, or c. wanting to fuck with the girl who used to live here.

That night, one of  my roommates, the huge 80’s metal fan, invited me to see a Guns N’ Roses cover band with her and her friends up in the uber-suburbs. If you didn’t know this already, I was a die hard GNR fan growing up; I wanted to have Duff’s babies, and know all the words to all the songs, minus Chinese Democracy, because it just isn’t GNR without Duff and Slash. I decided to lift my whiskey ban* because there was absolutely no chance of being going home with any guy at the bar. So I started sucking them down like water. At one point in the night, a lovely southern gentleman decided to grind up on me. And kept it up the entire evening. I don’t think I said more than 5 things to him the entire night but he told my roommate that he ‘really liked me’.

As we were leaving, I got a text message asking how the show was — after all, I had announced it on Facebook — but I didn’t recognize the number. After some investigating, I figured out it was one of the douchebags from this post! And of course I told him where to shove it and never to contact me again played it casual like it was no big deal and that I’d love to hang out with him (as friends**) since he was not going to be traveling for work anymore and lived nearby.

I remembered my other reason for banning whiskey when I woke up the next morning and hated life. At one point as an adult, I had Whiskey=Death as my mantra based on the hangovers it always gave me, but seemed to have forgotten about it that night.

I spent the day in bed only getting up to unpack a random box or two (laying in bed all day is way too unproductive for me, so I have to do things to make myself feel like I’m not being totally lazy).

With any luck, I’ll have everything unpacked this weekend and can finally stop tripping over stuff.

Did I mention that my pole fits in my room??

 

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*I thought I blogged about the whiskey ban, but I guess not. I do stupid stuff under the influence of whiskey like fool around in the alley way behind my favorite bar or sleep with the best friend of the guy who allegedly has feelings for me. You know, fun stuff.

** (insert your own comment here)

Things learned quickly in the ghetto

• Keep your doors locked at all times.
• Don’t leave blinds open when you aren’t home or at night. You don’t want strangers seeing what you have.
• Take EVERYTHING out of your car at night.
• Stick to streets you are familiar with late at night. 1am is never a good time to try an alternate route.

Before my friends vow to never visit me again, I should explain that I feel safe in my house. I’ve met the neighbors and they’ve never had issues with crime. I live with 3 dogs. I’m not an idiot who sets myself up to become a victim. But the area immediately outside of my neighborhood (and surrounding areas) is technically the ghetto.  As seen here, here, and here.

Funny story. I actually had to drive down Boulevard last night to get home. I now know where to buy crack.

Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young girl who loved to blog. She blogged from day to night and night to day without fail. Then one day she lost her job through no fault of her own and didn’t feel like blogging much. She got another job and started blogging again, but then lost that job through no fault of her own again, and the desire to blog went away. She had no computer at home, thus making it hard to update her readers on her status.

Then one day, she got a wonderful job and was happy again, but still didn’t feel like blogging. Every now and then, she’d regale her readers with stories of debauchery and hilarity, but the blogging spark had not returned. Then she moved into a really great house in a great part of town and vowed to blog more once she got unpacked*.

And everyone in the kingdom lived happily ever after.

The End.

 

* Of course, she didn’t mention how long it would take to get unpacked. This is the current state of things.