Monday, April 25, 2005

Hangovers, Coley is a rock star and on the verge of Violence

I want to be asleep. I spent my entire weekend recovering from an entire week of boozing all capped off with a drinkfest complete with an appearance by the Antioch police force. All I want to do is sleep for a week. I used to be able to run for weeks with no sleep. What the hell has happened to me? I'm only 23 for gawd's sake. Apparently too many years of sleep deprivation, drinking and general debauchery has caused me to age like Jerry Garcia. I feel like a 50 year old trying to hang out with 20 year olds. Ri-goddamn-diculous.


Friday night I hung out with my oldest friend and a handful of the people she grew up with. Prior to going to this party, she gave me a quick bio of all the people who were going to be there. She warned me about one guy, we will call him Tim. Tim has a 6-month-old son and is engaged to the mother of said child. However, this has not caused him to discontinue sleeping with anyone who'll have him. I laughed with my girlfriend and joked that this would be the only person who would express any interest in me because, as it turns out, I attract only the most inappropriate of men. She continues on with the bios, and of course, I forget the names of everyone and which stories associate with which names.

We arrive at the party where I am introduced to the one other female and the 6 or so guys who are there. Upon being introduced, one guy immediately starts flirting with me. He's kind of attractive in a "I've never left my home-town but fancy myself a hepcat" kind of way, so I flirt back a little bit. After a few moments of shameless flirting, one of the other guys tells me "oh, have Tim show you his new tattoo." The tattoo is on the back of his neck (eww, neck tattoos have always freaked me out) and it's the handprint of his six-month old son. Suddenly my girlfriend's story about this guy with a kid comes back to me. Thanks, other guy at party for the sly warning. At this point I immediately back off, because this is too inappropriate, even for me. I don't think this guy ever figured out that I was not going to sleep with him. Overall a fun time, complete with a rock-out to Journey at 2 am. Of course this prompted the cops to be called.

It was strange, I haven't had cops called on me for years. And for the first time, I wasn't doing anything illegal. Now, normally, cops would knock on the door, ask us to keep it down, to which we would apologize and it would end there.
But, these are Antioch cops. They have nothing better to do and are bitter about being cops in such a shit-town. So, instead they come in through the back yard, try to pepper-spray the dog, push some young women around and search the house.


Eventually they get tired of intimidating a bunch of young adults and leave. At this point, I am sober again. Funny thing, you can have a nice drunk going, cops show up, and you are sober as a Mormon in 5 seconds flat. All and all a good time was had by all, I ended up getting home at like 4 in the morning, waking up at 10 with a nice hangover. Kick ass.


I needed a few things from the store on Sunday, (read: NEEDED milk, bought 43 items for a grand total of $89.34. I'm not a good shopper) it was rather early in the day, so I thought I would risk it* and go to my old grocery store. Not a good call. Not only was Brody there, he didn't even have the good sense to hide from me. He was on a break and chose to follow me around the store and talk to me. Talk about uncouth, I tried to show my displeasure with him but that didn't get through. He told me I "had to go see Sin City" to which I replied that I heard it was good, but didn't look like my cup of tea. He insisted that I see it "maybe I'll have to take you." Apparently my horrified facial expression and saying "umm, maybe not" didn't mean anything at all to him.

* I say "risk it" because I went on a date with some guy who works at my old grocery store. Bad idea, as he is irritating, racist, and so young, he still "knows everything." Put that together with the way he insinuates that I'm kind of stupid (don't let the 3.8 gpa at a highly respected university fool you, apparently, I am dumb. Glad he could clue me in) and we've got a recipe for one of my worst dating decisions ever! My brother calls this one Brody, a Mallrats reference, since he is over 20, lives with his parents and collects comic books. My brother is hilarious.

I often hear men complain that they don't know what women mean when they talk. If you've ever suggested a date and the woman says anything other than "that would be great!" with a smile on her face, this is a signal. The message you should be getting by anything other than an enthusiastic yes is this: I don't like you, I don't want to see you, I find you utterly repellant, please go away. Save yourselves a lot of confusion and just remember that one thing.


I felt like a rock star last week. I bought a bed frame on Thursday (no more mattress on the floor for me, bringing my refugee style abode up to three pieces of actual furniture) from Craig's List. I went to pick it up, only to discover that there are no instructions to this bed at all. There are roughly 40 pieces to this bed frame. Yeah, nothing can ever be easy. After a few false starts, I actually got it put together. Some people would not find this very exciting, but I am usually awful with this kind of crap. Putting together a shelf (a shelf with 4 pieces!) from Ikea brought me to tears, and that actually came with directions. So putting together an entire bed frame, by myself, I am a goddess! Or Something like that.....moving on....

My job is officially sucking the life out of me. There's one coworker in particular who seems to be operating under the assumption that I am her personal assistant. Please note: I am not. It's totally a power thing, but I'm already feeling less than generous toward her. I'm tired of people who talk constantly about how many hours they work over the weekend or whatever. I don't care. I'm not impressed. Especially when you combine that with the fact that this person:

  1. Schedules hours upon hours of useless meetings
  2. Can not seem to be anywhere on time to save her life
  3. spends at least two hours a day just chatting about useless shit with anyone who will pretend to liste
  4. Talks ad nauseum about the "really powerful" positions she's held at prior jobs (If you really are that great, why are you in such a shitty position now?)

If she asks me to check her schedule again, I may have to cause her pain. I try not to get violent because, well, I don't believe in violence. But, as it turns out, I have a temper, a lot of muscle mass, and a lot of energy. A dangerous combination for someone with very little sense of right and wrong.

Ok, That's enough re-enacting Office Space for the day. My apologies.

On another note, my lesson from a few days ago involving successful dating, has just been reinforced. The less you like someone the more they love you, the more you start to like anyone, they will disappear and never return. This wouldn't be too bad, but it's hard to get closer to having kids when you aren't having sex with anyone. I hear it helps.


Alright, there is a Snickers bar with my name on it. I should probably work anyway. Damn it. When, oh when will I be independently wealthy? This working is just more than I can take today. *sigh*

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