The Unpredictable Random Awesomeness of Life

Quite a weekend. Monday can fuck off but (sigh) it’s technically already here. C’est La Vie. That’s life. But what does that mean anyways? What’s life? Ya know? Like just saying “that’s life” sums it all up… but it doesn’t… at all. Anyways, I’d start at the beginning but Friday night is playing back pretty fuzzy so I’ll start with Saturday (although I do know that Friday was an awesome night as well- or so I’ve been told).

Saturday: Juicy calls me at 11 all excited about going to Hooters and then to the Wizards game (she scored club level tickets in a raffle the week before at a Wizards game that I invited her to; so naturally she invited me to the game she won tix to), I tell her I cant wait either but I’m gonna need a few more hours of sleep in order to function. She concurs; we both go back to sleep. I finally awaken at 2pm, chat with my mom and then hit the shower, get dressed and head to Juicy’s. It’s a gorgeous day btw. We go to Hooters…our fav place… so many interesting characters at Hooters; greaaat people watching. Pancey meets us there and we cash in on the 20 free buffalo shrimp she won a few weeks back. Juicy and I get asked to work there (again) so we decide to fill out applications. Why the hell not? I worked at Hooters in college for 2 years and loved it (and the ridiculous amounts of mullah I made) and it wouldn’t be a half bad weekend job. We semi-fill out the applications and give them to the manager as “pending”. I tell him we’ll come finish them later in the week. I would def have to move out of the parents house before attempting to leave the house in a Hooters uniform. My mom would freak.

Juicy informs me she has to take wings to this new guys she’s been seeing. I whine. She says she’s not budging so I suck it up and we get wings to go and head to where this guys works. At this point it’s an hour and a half till Wizards game time and we’re about 40 minutes outta DC. Oh and we’re not totally sure how to get to the Verizon Center (where they play). I’m a sports fanatic and don’t wanna miss a second of the game. She informs me it’s not a big deal; we’re gonna be late. If it were a football game she would never be so nonchalant about getting there on time. But, ya know… C’est La Vie and shit. We drop off his wings and order a drink; just one drink she says.

40 minutes later and 3 drinks each later she’s finally fed up with my nagging and we leave to head to DC. We take the Toll Road. I don’t have my speed pass b/c I’m in my mom’s spare jeep (my truck was still in the shop) but I don’t wanna stop at the toll so I just go right through the speed pass lane: Alarms start going off but we’ve done this numerous times and nothing ever happens so we’re laughing when, out of the blue, Juicy screams, “HOLY SHIT IT’S FAMOUS BOY!”

Me: “WHERE?!” I demand, not totally believing her (she’s never met him)

J: “THERE! LOOK.” She points to the car basically zooming past us. I look at the car. I’ve been in that car. And she’s fucking right. It’s famous boy.

Me: “HOLY SHIT. OH. MY GOD. Oh my God it is… Fuck me what do we do?”

J: “FOLLOW HIM.”

Me: ” Basketball game aborted. New Mission: Follow Famous Boy…. follow him where? Where’s he going? He’s gotta be going into DC if he’s already all the way out here.”

J: “Maybe he’s going to the game?? I dunno just FOLLOW HIM!”

Me: “OK ok I am.”

J: “Hurry! He’s getting away!”

Me: “Well he’s fucking speeding like a mother fucker! What do you want me to do?!? I’m not gonna go like 90 miles an hour!” (55 mph speed limit)

J: “Omg Omg I can’t believe I just looked over and there he was!”

Me: “Jesus Christ he’s going fast.”

Literally 5 seconds after I said “Jesus Christ he’s going fast” a cop pulls up out of nowhere in between Famous boy’s car and mine. Juicy and I look at each other with the same expression on our faces. The cop puts his lights on, and we watch in complete amazement as he pulls Famous boy and his beautiful Rover over. We’re legitimately freaking out at this point.

J: “CALL HIM.”

Me: “What!? NO I’ve never called him.”

J: “Well now you have an AWESOME reason to.”

Me: “Touche… ok. Why the hell not.”

I call famous boy. Obviously it goes to voice mail; and I leave an incredible message. He may not have found it amusing if he did in fact get a reckless driving ticket, but… we thought it was hilarious. “Hey famous boy it’s me just driving on the toll road when my friend Juicy noticed that we happened to be driving right next to you… weird…and (laughing my ass off) umm.. we just saw you get pulled over (laugh). Dude… that sucks (lil giggle). So… I wanted to call you and tell you that (giggle) we both hope you get outta the ticket. And good luck. (laugh, hang up)”

I’m not gonna analyze how often I think he checks his voice mail (not true- I already have) but I’m pretty sure I will not be getting a call back. Totally worth it though. Did we take pictures? NO. Why? B/c we’re idiots and didn’t think about it till after the fact. Dammit. I thanked Juicy for making me stay for drinks b/c otherwise we never would have had this incredible highway run-in with famous boy. She gloats a little. I tell her from now on I will always listen to her. She says famous boy and me are gonna get married, she just knows it. I believe her. She’s always right.

Wizards game fun… we lost… we decide to go out in Adams Morgan b/c Mex is there… and Kendra. Yeah… that was awkward at first. But (silver lining) we finally got to talk about everything some more and she doesn’t hate me. I mean, she does but she said she loves me too much to ever really hate me. She’s just really hurt (which I totally understand). She told me she misses me so much, all the time, but she doesn’t trust me. I told her she shouldn’t trust me yet; I wouldn’t trust me in her position. I told her I was so scared we would never be friends again and she said that she could never not be friends with me. We had been so close that when Daniel told her [what we did] she just broke down. She said anyone but me; she wouldn’t have cared as much if it had been anyone but me… but I knew everything; she used to confide in me about everything. She said she just couldn’t talk to me (these past few weeks) b/c it just hurt too bad; she was still too angry. She was used to Daniel hurting her but she never imagined that I would and it hurt so bad she didn’t know how to deal with it. I told her I understood; that I was so so sorry I hurt her like that and that I would wait as long as it took for her to be ready to talk to me again and that to me, she was still my best friend and always would be and that I loved her and miss her like crazy. Every day I wanna call this girl. She’s hilarious. We used to have the best times together. I told her that too. We hugged. We hugged a lot. I drove her to her car and she said we should all go to brunch tomorrow (BIG STEP!). I was ecstatic. Seriously I was crying I was so happy. And I don’t take emotionally heavy crying lightly; I usually try to avoid it. Then we hugged again and she told me to never do anything like that again. I promised (and I was serious) that I never ever would. She said it would still take time… baby steps she said… but hell, time flies and I feel like we’ll be inseparable before summer starts.

BIG SIGH OF RELIEF

Brunch was good. Not completely back to normal but getting there. We’re both putting in a lot of effort, and I am SO glad she values our friendship as much as I do. After brunch we all went hiking/rock climbing with some guy friends and yes, I will be sore tomorrow. But it was a lot of fun. My Kendra’s back! =) Any ideas on what I could do now? Ya know, something nice to let her know how much she means to me… (besides flowers… girl to girl flowers seems so gay to me). I just cant wait for the day when I don’t immediately think about the Daniel incident when I see her. I just want normal. Like, run up to her, maybe even squeal and give her a big hug and then just chat and gossip and laugh and have no weirdness between us. I hate the weirdness. But this is good. For right now, and the amount of time it’s been…this is great. I had an awesome weekend.

And thank GOD I wasn’t the one getting pulled over on the toll road! Then I would’ve left a message with a much different tone like, “Hey dick face why dont you slow down so people trying to follow you don’t get pulled over for reckless driving. Yeah, thanks, that would be great. Ps- When I say “following you”, I mean that in the least possible creepy way.”

I am SO curious to know if he got out of that ticket. Reckless in VA is on the same level as DUI basically… over 80 mph and you’re like… fucked. However I will not be calling/texting him again. I don’t need the book to know he’s not that into me. I am confused though;  a little. I mean… what’s not to be into?? So I’ve come to a conclusion… “He must not be all that smart.” And yes, that makes me smile. B/c I’ve hung out with him enough to know that this is  probably a true statement. Lol.

Excuse Me While I Freak The Fuck Out For A Second

I’m just gonna say what I’m thinking b/c I don’t know how else to start it off…. My heart hurts. Why. What the Fuck. Maybe it’s a mistake. No it’s def not a mistake. This really really sucks a big one. I kinda wanna cry. I kinda wanna call and bitch. I kinda wanna crawl in a hole. I kinda want them all to see me out tonight having a fucking blast. I hope her birthday fucking sucks balls and her nasty boyfriend breaks up with her.  Unbelievable. What a SLutch.

I’ve known Mex (girl) for I guess two years now. She’s part of Juicy’s highschool crew. I’m tight with Juicy’s friends. I can’t believe I just said tight, but you know; like I’d call Mex to see what she was doing sometimes and not just see her out with Juicy. That’s close, in my opinion. We even talked about living together when her boyfriend dumped her, but then they got back together a couple weeks later and she moved back in with him. I invited her to my birthday. Ok whatever, we’re friends is what I’m getting at. Or at least I fucking thought we were. Fucking girls man.

Yesterday I noticed on my facebook mini feed that everyone was writing on everyone elses wall about Friday night and how much fun it was gonna be and they cant wait to see each other bla bla bla. So I’m thinking… What the hell?! I’m always included in this kind of shit. There should be a notification waiting for me that says someone wrote on my wall about Friday night. But no, there’s no notification like that.

So I’m thinking this must be a mistake; an oversight. I’d already been gchatting with Juicy so I asked her what she was doing this weekend. She avoided the question for 5 whole minutes by talking about other stuff before in all caps I asked again what she was doing this weekend. She finally said Mex’s birthday on Friday night, no plans Saturday except looking at apartments with me. That’s it. No “You’re coming right?” or “Wanna go together?” or “What are you gonna wear?” like she normally would say. She just asked me what I was doing this weekend.

I was stunned. Seriously. So stunned that I ignored her for a few minutes and gchatted Pancey asking what she was doing this weekend. She said going out to dinner for Mex’s birthday and then home b/c she had to get up early bla bla bla. No invite. Same thing. She asked what I was doing this weekend.

Honestly I already had plans for Friday night. A friend of BFF’s is coming in town and we’re taking her out in Georgetown. But that’s beside the point. At any other point in time they both would have said that we should all try to meet up sometime during the night since we’ll both be downtown. But they didn’t. They kept their mouths shut. And I’m fucking pissed about it.

On a highly related note; Kendra still isn’t talking to me. On Wednesday night she texted me and said, “Did you sleep with Daniel? And don’t lie to me- a mutual friend said you did-  be honest”. ARE YOU SERIOUS!? Is what I thought. When I saw I had a text from Kendra I kinda got a little excited thinking she was over it all and wanted to hang out. Not the case. Back to square one basically.

I shoulda just said no but I was too pissed and surprised and probably overcompensated. I know I overcompensated. I always do that. It stems from the ex; he always thought I was lying so I had to defend myself all the time and I would start defending myself before he ever even accused me of lying b/c I knew that he thought he knew that I was gonna lie before I even opened my mouth. Does that make sense? So I sound like I’m lying when I’m telling the truth, b/c I over-think everything and over-explain and defend myself. My response to Kendra? “I would never ever even THINK about sleeping with Daniel. I swear on my mothers life… and I Never do that”. Yeaaahh… Shoulda just said no.

Anyways, she didn’t respond back. I told Juicy this and she said Kendra hadn’t said anything to her about it and she thought Kendra probably just made up the whole “mutual friend told me” thing to see what I’d say. I concur. That sounds like something Kendra would do, and I can only think of one mutual friend (Anna) who would say something like that… and that seems really low; even for Anna.

When the whole Daniel thing went down it seemed like everyone was being really mature about the whole situation. I was so fucking relieved. No one did the whole “choosing sides” bit (which was my biggest worry since they’ve all known each other since 9th grade and I’ve only been in the group for 2 year) and everyone was genuinely distraught that Kendra and I weren’t talking. I guess I never stopped to think how it would effect our big ‘girls night’ parties or things like birthday parties. Well now I know. And it fucking sucks. I can’t- in all fairness- be too pissed at Mex. I know she just wants to have a good time on her birthday and not deal with any drama and probably doesn’t want Kendra to feel uneasy. But I AM pissed at Mex. I’m pissed at all of them.

In order to successfully not invite me they all must have talked about it; otherwise someone would have invited me. B/c I’m their fucking friend and I should be there. I feel really really betrayed. And I had to vent about it. I could vent about other things right now but I am so late BFF is gonna kill me. I think I may drunk text Kendra later, I can feel it. The rage is building. This could be interesting.

I Didn’t Get In This Line

Shit...

Today was the biggest emotional roller coaster I’ve been on in a really really long time. Since the ex, I’ve kind of been totally emotionally numb (except for, of course, famous boy. But famous boy emotions are only felt by me. Stupid famous boy.) I haven’t had to have an emotional talk with someone in FOREVER. I’m awful at them. I just can’t really get into them. I’m like, too cool for emotional talks.

This is not good when you need to have an emotional talk with a friend. A best friend. Kendra means so much to me. God that sounds super corny awful. So I called her a few times, left a few really bad lengthy babbling messages, texted once or twice; and then I got stuck. Now what the fuck do I do? I feel like my boyfriend just broke up with me or something. It’s creepy. I’m like stalking her.

So today I forgot my phone under my pillow. Dammit. I was half naked all day. But it was kind of nice. I had happy hour with 0.5 at Chilis and after 2 doubles (she had 4, God bless her) we called it a night. I was perfectly tipsy and totally distraught about the Kendra situation. I put myself in her shoes, listened to some sad country music, started crying and made a u-turn to head out to her house. Unannounced. With no real plan at all.

Best thing I could have done I think. Kendra really is the shit and she’s going through the worst time right now. She said Daniel was naming people he’d hooked u with just to piss her off and she didn’t give a shit till he said my name and then she started crying. She said she didn’t believe it at all. I crushed her. Tonight was the best/worst/most cleansing night ever. I haven’t cried that hard since God knows when.

So she needs time. She loves me, we’ll be Ok, she just needs time and she wont be able to look at me the same or trust me the same way again. We really are in a relationship. I hope to God it goes back to normal. I think that it will, I just may have to change; for the better of course. Like not hook up with guys my friends are in love with. I think that’s a good rule.

“Some strangers become more important to you than family, maybe because you’re not expected to love them. You can leave them whenever you want to. Every moment together is a choice.”

I’d say my friends are like my family; not more important, but just as. I chose them. I love them. And I guess it is kind of romantical, in a non-sexual way obviously.

The Juicy Bitch Fest

I freaked the fuck out. Freaking the fuck out= I lost all sense of what is considered socially acceptable means of communicating and acting. So although I know I should be held responsible for my actions… I’m not going to claim responsibility.

I walked up to them and stood right next to the bed. And just fucking stood there.

Juicy: What the fuck are you doing?

Me: Nothing. Just chillin in my room.

Juicy: Wellll… why are you just fucking standing there?!? That’s really creepy.

Me: Well if you’re going to have sex in our room when I want to go to bed, you’re going to have to do it in front of me b/c I’m not putting up with this shit anymore.

Juicy: Are you fucking serious.

Me: Totally.

At this point everyone (British boy, Juicy and I) all just pause for a few moments to evaluate the situation.

Since I last wrote, more things have come to light through talking with British boy and Juicy about the details of the bitch fest. British boy says that while we were all “evaluating” the situation, I was massaging his package with a wicked grin on my face.

Yeah. FML.

When he first told me this I adamantly denied it b/c I didn’t remember that at all. Why the hell would I do that anyways?!? Massage his package?!? No, I don’t think so. Even Juicy said that didn’t sound like something I would do.

Then he told me that he had pants on at the time so I wasn’t actually touching his balls. When he told me that I had a tiny, quick blurry flashback in which I indeed kind of remember doing exactly that. What the fuck is wrong with me.

They now call me “The Hands” even though I still completely deny doing it.

Back to bitchfest.

So I guess I’m massaging his package while Juicy has her back to me (on top of him) so she doesn’t see any of this go down thank God. Continue bitching:

Juicy: Seriously WHAT the FUCK get OUT of here!!!

Me: I’m not going ANYWHERE! This is SO fucking disrespectful I would NEVER do this to you! I don’t care HOW LONG it’s been since you’ve gotten laid this is NOT Ok!

That’s the line for Juicy. I have just revealed that it’s been a good while since she got laid therefor making her look kind of desperate. She jumps up and we’re face to face now.

Juicy: YOU’RE SUCH A BITCH! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LEAVE FOR A FEW MINUTES!? THIS IS NOT A BIG DEAL!!!

Me: IT IS A BIG DEAL AND I’M NOT A BITCH! YOU’RE BEING A BITCH YOU FUCKING WHORE!!

Juicy: OMG YOU’RE BEING SO FUCKING RIDICULOUS YOU’RE LIKE A CHILD!!

Me: NO I’M NOT! DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO TURN THIS AROUND ON ME YOU KNOW THIS IS NOT COOL AND YOU WOULD NEVER PUT UP WITH THIS IF THE TABLES WERE TURNED! YOU’RE BEING SUCH A SHITTY FRIEND!

Juicy: FUCK YOU!!

Me: FUCK YOU FIRST!!

Yes, that’s always my response to a “fuck you”… fuck you first bitch. Always. B/c really… what else can you say after a “fuck you”? If an argument has gone that far I don’t think clever comebacks are required or even necessary. I always love being first though.

Unfortunately… this is where I pretty much blacked out although I know the fight continued and escalated a little more. Fortunately it didn’t get physical b/c that would have been awful. We have the potential to tear each other to shreds. Seriously.

So I wake up the next morning and climb down off my bunk. Juicy and British boy are still asleep (I thought) so I immodestly start changing. I can hear people moving around upstairs and I know that means they’re cleaning up the house. So I climb back in bed b/c cleaning is the last thing I wanna do.

Then Sean walks in b/c cleaning is evidently not his forte either. British boy and Juicy wake up and we all start talking about the night before; the recorder band, the acoustic roasting of the cabin, etc. It’s then that I realize that Juicy and I got in a huge fight.

Me: OMG! We got in a huge fight last night!

Juicy: Holy shit. Holy shit. You’re right! OMG we never fight!

Me: I KNOW!

Juicy: What were we even fighting about??

Ok…I may not remember details, but I do remember what the fight was over. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna bring it up again though.

Me: I have no idea… Holy shit.

Juicy: Omg that’s so funny. I wonder what it was about.

Me: I think it had something to do with you and British boy having sex in the room… maybe

Juicy: Oh…

I can tell it’s about to get uncomfortable and I look at Sean. Then I remember that after the acoustic roasting I went to smoke one last cig before bed (I do this when I’m drunk) and he followed me out to the porch and tried to make out with me. By “try” I mean… he made out with me. And yeah I guess I kissed him back, but no I didn’t accept the invitation to his room. Thank God. And no I didn’t really like it. (aka wouldn’t do it again. Ever.)

So I blurt out, “OMG you tried to make out with me last night!”

No one even pays attention to me. I know, sad. I hate it when you say something spur of the moment and it turns out to be the wrong moment to have said that. Like, when someone else is talking so no one hears you. But then you cant repeat it b/c it was one of those light bulb moments that would come across as fake and staged the second time you say it. You can’t act surprised twice. So I’m not sure anyone heard me b/c no one reacted. =(

More minutes pass and Juicy asks Sean why he’s just standing in our doorway… does he have no where else to go? She’s really subtle like that. Sean makes some lame excuse about going to see what the others are doing and leaves, poor guy. I go to find .5 and tell her the amazing story.

A few hours later we all pack up and head home. The ride home takes barely over 2 hours. Juicy and I are totally fine.

I love love loooove this about her. She gets over stuff just as fast as I do. It’s amazing. It’s like nothing ever happened but we both have the satisfaction of getting a good bitchfest in. 5 hours after the fact and we’re already laughing about it. I love my friends.

The Real Crazy Weekend: Wisp

This weekend flew by. If I hadn’t taken pictures and some really clutch videos I woulda thought I had just dremt it (dreamt it? dreamed it? is dremt a word even?) Anyways, corny, I know. But seriously the memories are that hazy. I should really cut down on the alcohol…

Just lemme say that if you’re going on a road trip, you should really print out directions… or at least make sure someone knows where they’re going. Especially if you get a late start. Especially if it’s snowing really hard. Especially if all the people at your destination have been drinking for a good 5 hours and can barely remember which state they’re in let alone which cabin.

Juicy and I drove 4 hours in snow so thick that the lines on the road were invisible and road signs were obsolete. We ended up in Pennsylvania after .5 and her boyfriend told us (multiple times) to take 219 West… 219 West does not exist. It runs North and South. Is that really so hard to remember? I was so pissed at this point that I refused to call .5 again b/c she’s obviously completely retarded. So we guessed she meant North. We were wrong. Welcome to Pennsylvania. Fuck.

We finally rolled down our windows to two twelve year old boys walking down the middle of the road in nowhere town Pennsylvania. Sketchy, I know. These kids that are half our age and have probably never been out of Pennsylvania looked at us like we were complete idiots. They told us to get back on the main highway and follow the signs. Brilliant. How hard is that? I am now furious at .5.

Juicy and I finally get back into Maryland, follow signage towards Wisp and 25 minutes later find the road that the cabin is supposedly on. We look for the second house on the right b/c that’s what .5 said, “It’s just the second one on the right.” There is no second house on the right. We are in the middle of bumfuck country with snowbanks on either side of the road taller than my LR3.

30 minutes of driving down every side road later, we have a genius idea. With 24 people in one cabin, there’s likely to be a lot of cars out front. We guessed  around 8 or 9. So we just start looking for houses with lots of cars. We find it in 4 minutes. At the end of the second side road on the left there’s a cluster of houses in which our cabin is indeed the second house on the right. We sit in the driveway fuming for 5 minutes. I can feel a bitch fight coming on with .5. I decide it’s time to get very very drunk.

After I’m good and drunk I calm down a bit and start to enjoy myself. I knew a total of 6 people out of 24 so I made a lot of new friends. Yay for new friends. The only hot guy is British boy. Setback: British boy is only in town for the weekend, meaning he would be nothing but a good time in the sack. I ponder this fact and decide that I’m sick of thinking. I just wanna dance. Juicy, on the other hand, hasn’t had a good lay since September. I know. She’s seriously fiending for it. And it’s completely obvious.

British boys, I find out, are a lot like American boys in that they take what comes to them. Especially in a cabin with only two pretty single girls. He didn’t have many options. If he was going to get laid it was gonna be either me or her. I’m not gonna call my friend easy b/c she’s not, she has serious standards, but that was probably the most effortless lay of the century. Only problem… we’re all sleeping in the same room. One twin bed and a bunk bed with a double on the bottom. I had already called top bunk (I love top bunks) so if they’re planning on going at it on the bottom bunk, not only am I gonna hear it… I’m gonna fucking feel the bed moving too.

I walk in our room after brushing my teeth at 4:30 in the morning to find them… going at it. I freeze. British boy starts apologizing when Juicy yells, “Get out!”

I don’t move.

me: “Huh?! What do you mean get out?”

Juicy: “Go away!”

me: “But I wanna go to bed! It’s late! When can I come back?!?”

Juicy: “Just GO!!!!”

So I did. I’m sucha good friend. Everyone is asleep in the cabin; on the floors, on the couches, everywhere. I wander around aimlessly. I don’t even have my phone with me to furiously text people. I resort to cleaning the kitchen. I never clean.

I give them 20 minutes and then go back. They’re passed out naked spooning with no covers whatsoever. I take pictures. Why not?!? They might come in handy later.

I climb into my bunk and realize British boy snores. Loud. I hit him with my pillow a few times until he wakes enough for me to fall asleep before the snoring starts again.

Day two.

We all wake up and are totally fuzzy about the happenings of last night. Did I really get kicked out of my own room?! I decide that this is never going to happen again. Mid-thought I feel the bed start to move a little. You have got to be shitting me. I pause and then I hear, “Oh yeah baby that feels so good.” I sit up and scream, “Are you fucking kidding me!?!? I’M RIGHT HERE! I CAN FUCKING HEAR YOU! WE’RE IN BUNK BEDS FOR CHRIST SAKE!” Juicy giggles. I inform her that this is not funny at all. She quiets down and before they can start up again someone walks in our room to figure out ski plans for the day. That person was an angel sent from God.

We all get ready and set off for the slopes. I ski half the day and then get bored and we all meet at the lodge bar. We spot a fantastic guy in a bright purple ski jumpsuit and take pictures with him that resemble the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers when it’s “Morphin Time!”. He buys me lots of beer. I’m in heaven; I love 90’s tv moments. Especially when they involve beer.

Tipsy, I declare that skiing is no longer fun and I am going to conquer snowboarding. I go and rent snowboard gear. I’ve tried snowboarding twice before and it was disastrous. That shit is a lot harder than it looks. I have no fear though. I am the pink ranger. Pterodactyl!!

My new friend Sean (that’s his real name, I’m sick of thinking up fake names) says he’ll snowboard with me and attempt to teach me how to be an awesome boarder. We start on the bunny slopes. I bust ass. I bust some serious ass, like every ten seconds. But I keep getting up. I’ve never been more determined to get something. Sean is blatantly impressed. He thought I was going to fall twice and bow out like barbie. Bring it bitches. The beer I chugged before we left the bar catch up with me and I morph into extreme athlete mode.

Snowboarding is fucking awesome. I can feel the lactic acid building up in my thighs. My ass has never gotten such a beating. It’s a miracle I didn’t break any bones. I’m literally high on snowboarding. Face planting only makes me want to try harder. We stay on the slopes 2 hours longer than anyone else in our group. At least I got my money’s worth. And I feel like a badass. A really bruised and banged up badass.

When we get back to the cabin I take British boy aside and point blank tell him I wont tolerate another episode like last night. If he wants to get laid, he better go do it now. He apologizes and agrees that Juicy may have been a bit out of line.

Backtrack. When I was packing for the trip I came across my old recorders from third grade while looking for ski stuff. I bring the recorders with me. All 5 of them (I’m the coolest dork ever).

I bust out my recorders to the delight of British boy and Juicy. We form a recorder band. We are the worst (and maybe only?) recorder band ever. But that doesn’t deter us from performing for the entire cabin even though I’m pretty sure that after they stopped laughing at us no one was really listening. In fact I think they all tried their hardest to tune us out.

We didn’t make it easy for them. British boy kept playing the alto recorder and Juicy and I sang our lungs out to every Disney song we could think of. It was amazing. The next day one girl told us we ruined every single Disney movie for her. I’d call that a huge success.

After band practice the three of us pow wowed in our room and took anxiety meds. Anxiety meds + alcohol = deep conversation. Famous boy comes up in this conversation. British boy, being the player he is, is a genuine good guy at heart. He gives me the most honest advice I’ve gotten so far. Get over the jerk, there are other famous boys out there more worthy of my attention, he’s just not that into me. Touche.

We realize we’ve been holed up in our bedroom for over 30 minutes and make our way back upstairs. Sean’s younger brother breaks out his guitar and begins acoustically “roasting” the entire cabin. It’s fucking hilarious. He even sings about me getting kicked out of my own room so now everyone knows they’re shagging. Juicy is not very happy about this. I wouldn’t have been either but for me it’s sweet unexpected revenge for getting kicked out of the room.

The people that have been in the hot tub drinking for 6 hours straight… seriously 6 whole hours, finally start coming back inside. I’m taping the “roasting” on my camera and pan over to the door they’re entering through. One guy slips on ice and completely eats shit. Like face on pavement smackdown. It’s fabulous. And it’s recorded for the entire facebook world to now see. How amazing is that?!?

The roasting winds down and people start passing out. We return to our room. I state that I am going to brush my teeth and please don’t try to have sex unless it’s going to be the quickest shag in history b/c I’ll be back in 2 minutes.

I walk back in my room to find Juicy, topless, on top of British boy eating his face; basically. I freak the fuck out.

Side note: Juicy and I have never fought before. She’s one of those friends that just gets me, and I get her.

Back to freaking the fuck out… tomorrow. I seriously have to go to bed right now and this epic bitch fest deserves a post of it’s own anyways.

Get Money, Fuck Bitches- the Story You’ve All Been Waiting For 3D

Just a little warning- this is a long story. I swear it’s worth it though!

Last night my friend Christopher calls me while I’m still at work. He is not happy. Why is he unhappy? ohhhh I dunnnnoo… I may have fucked with his girlfriend through text messages on Sunday morning… and that may or may not have led to a huge fight between the two of them… that might have angered him. Possibly.

He really has no right to be mad though. I’ve known Christopher since 3rd grade. We went to elementary, middle, and high school together. He dated my cousin (the oldest one, my age but a year behind us in school due to a late summer birthday) for a good while; 2 + years . That means he was at every family function we had for almost 3 whole years. So we played footsie under the table at Christmas dinners (I guess I’ve always been a careless flirt) Thanksgiving dinners, birthday dinners, random BBQ’s… you name it, and saw each other every day at school AND partied together on the weekends… This kid and I go wayyy back. And I have pictures to prove it.

Christopher was actually one of the reasons the ex broke up with me. While visiting home one long weekend I went to a sports bar with some girlfriends to watch the Redskins Play the Eagles. Guess who was there? Well, lots of people, but the whole point is that Christopher is there and (this is important) at the time he had what I call “a crazy girlfriend”. I don’t know if this girl was crazy before she started dating Christopher but I think it’s safe to say that he has a lot to do with the mental state of this girl (lets call her Gemma). Christopher is a crazy maker.

Crazy Maker: A boy who pledges his love to you, swears to God he’s telling the truth, says he would never ever hurt you, tells you you’re the only one for him and will even give you a play by play of his day which doesn’t involve any girls while simultaneously texting other girls, hanging out with other girls and hooking up with other girls. Their motto: Deny till you die. They have the ability to make a girl believe she is completely insane.

“HEY!” You say, “That sounds exactly like your ex!”

You. Would. Be. Right.

As fate would have it, I was dating the ex at this particular time as well. I had not yet realized his complete crazy making abilities. So he was not one of my worries that night (that comes into play later). My deviously delicious plan was to sneak up beside Christopher, kiss his cheek and have a friend snap a picture. It played out perfectly. Christopher freaked out about Gemma seeing the photo since I post everything on facebook. He couldn’t even delete it b/c for some reason I had brought a disposable camera out that night. Brilliant, I know.

I did not give Christopher enough credit though. After my amazing stunt, I gathered myself and told him I wouldn’t post it and we should take a normal picture together. After all we have been friends since 3rd grade… boyfriends cant really get jealous of friends as old as that!… Can they??

So I get back home to boyfriend and a couple months later develop the pictures.

Oh No…

…Horror.

The normal picture is not normal. Christopher is licking my cheek with a devilish grin on his face. These pictures, I decide, must never EVER be seen. But how do you dispose of pictures in a house shared with the person who can never see them and who is so crazy that even trash isn’t sacred??

I put them in the middle console of my car to dispose of in public, away from the ex and his curious eyes. Problem solved right? Not if you’re a forgetful scatterbrain. Oh wait, I am.

And now ladies and gentleman you will learn of the events surrounding the night the cutest little white girl (me) went to jail.

The ones with brunette roots have already put two and two together and are shaking their heads at the ridiculous circumstances and their outcome. For the rest of you, I’ll try to keep it as brief as possible.

The ex needed a haircut. Where do boys go? Hair Cuttery. I needed one too (desperately) but refused to ever let them go near my hair. I’m a salon kinda girl. I was trying (unsuccessfully) to find a new hair girl in a town that caters to black people hair and rich white women. Not easy. So my hair is atrocious. But.. it’s.. Hair Cuttery. So I decide to go tanning instead while he gets his hair cut. I go downstairs to the tanning place and fill out ALL the new customer forms. It’s only then I realize that one tan is $20. ONE. Not even the high intensity or stand up beds, those are even more expensive. They try to get me to sign up for a VIP monthly program. I tell them I’ll be right back, and then I dip the fuck out. I didn’t even have a job… how was I supposed to stay glowing at those prices? I decide he loves me for me and not my tan. And pale is the way God made me. Only one of these turned out to be correct. But anyways…

I go back upstairs to the Hair Cuttery and at the realization that I wouldn’t have the money for a nice hair stylist even if I found one, I give in and decide to get rid of my split ends for $14. Don’t even get me started on that haircut, that’s not the point (but it was bad). The point is that the ex is done before the hair cutter has taken his first snip at my split ends. And he’s impatient. I throw him my keys so he can go buy a pack of cigs.

15 minutes later I go downstairs and get in the waiting car. Right off the bat it’s obvious that something is very very wrong. The air smelled like wrong. His face was allll wrong yet trying to be right at the same time. Which means that something is very very wrong. I rack my brain. My heart falls to my feet. I begin to tremble.

I open up the middle console pretending that I have something in my purse that should be put in there and act nonchalant as hell as I pull out the brown paper bag containing the photos. I start taking old receipts out of my purse and putting them in the bag, gum wrappers, empty cigarette box, you get the idea.

ex: “what’s in there?” (He already knows, the asshole)

me: “huh? oh nothing, it’s just trash.”

ex: “just trash huh?”

me: “yup, allll trash. I’ve been meaning to throw it out.”

ex: “it didn’t look like trash.”

me: “oh that’s funny… it is. I mean obviously since I’m putting more trash in it.”

ex: “what’s in the bag.”

me: “I said it’s trash. And you obviously already know what’s in there so spare me the mind games”

ex: “why are you throwing the pictures out?”

me: “because I don’t want them.”

I jump out of the car and throw the bag in a trash can. I get back in the car… silence… The silence continues as he’s driving.

ex: “Did you fuck him?”

me: “WHAT!? Did I what?! Are you serious??!?”

ex: “You heard me. Did you fuck him?”

me: “No! Are you kidding? That’s Christopher, I’ve known him since 3rd grade those pictures were a joke to make his girlfriend jealous b/c she’s crazy.”

ex: “So you’ve never fucked him?”

me: “NEVER! EW!”

(Side note: We did kiiiiind of hook up in high school but it was innocent enough. And since the breakup of the ex, we have, in fact, fucked. But at the time I was being honest, we hadn’t fucked yet.)

Everything is still wrong. Trust is gone (even though trust was never really there to begin with) and my ex is livid. I’m livid too but at the same time trying to make everything better b/c that’s what I do… I’m a peace keeper. I hate anger. It’s just uncomfortable. And in our relationship this kind of thing happened almost every day. Yuppp… every freagin day.

We pull up to a sports bar (the NCAA championship football game was that night) and go in and sit down. And then, of course, he starts drinking. Brilliant. Just what I need. In my denial I tell myself that he’s drinking b/c there’s a game on tonight and it’s Saturday and lots of people drink on Saturday so everything must be totally fine.

Nothing was ever fine when the ex started drinking.

We start out with vodka mixed drinks. Normal enough. Then he orders tequila shots. oooookkkkkk…. wellll it’s kinda early in the day butttt…. I’m still acting happy go lucky. Maybe he will get drunk and forget how much he loathes me right now. Yeah fucking right. Ever met a mean drunk? My ex was one.  They are worse than awful. There are not even words to describe the hurtful things mean drunks can say and do.

I always tried to keep up with the ex when we drank. I always thought I was doing a damn good job too until,  for an inexplicable reason, he would become completely belligerent. I’d be sitting there sipping on my third or fourth drink when all of a sudden I would look up and low and behold, my boyfriend would be wasted. How? I have no idea. I would know exactly how much alcohol he had consumed and it didn’t add up to retard face boyfriend.

At first (in our relationship) I was jealous, how unfair that he’s already mister drunk and I only have a slight buzz! I only felt jealousy a few times though as I began to learn that once the ex was wasty faced nothing he did or said was on the record.  He would wake up the next morning as if nothing had happened. He refused to be held accountable for the drunk side of him. Scary ass thought huh? I now understand why my parents were mortified of our decision to move in together 500 miles away from them.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Drunk as shit pissed off boyfriend. In the whole year that we were together I only got drunk a handful of times. This is because when the ex got drunk, I stopped drinking. For a couple of reasons. 1. I guess to take care of him, gross as that may sound and 2. just watching him was enough to make me not want to drink anymore. He would make an amazing AA commercial. Mean drunks are not fun.

We decide to go home to watch the game with one of his few friends that has come hang out with us. Friend drives the ex and I’m told to go buy alcohol and snacks and to hurry the fuck up… he’s timing me (no joke). I get in my car and go to the ABC store to get alchy (I even buy his favorite baileys mint) as well as vodka and some whiskey for the friend. Then I stop by the grocery store and being the good girlfriend, I try to pick out things that I know they will love. Chicken fingers, chips, ice cream bars whatever, I go all out, b/c that’s what I do. I’m a happy maker and a peace maker. I’m a “pleaser” you could say.

My phone is meanwhile being blown up as soon as I step in the grocery store. He doesn’t believe I’m at the grocery store. What could possibly be taking so long? When the fuck am I gonna be home and who the fuck is that guy talking in the background? “umm honey do you mean the man announcing that the store will be closing in 30 minutes?”

I arrive home to him drinking beer already and being a complete asshole. After I think I’ve convinced him that I didn’t sleep with anyone while at the grocery store, I make everyone drinks and chicken fingers. I’m sick to my stomach from the events of the day so I don’t eat. (I really should have).

About an hour into the game things have calmed down and I get up off the floor to sit behind him on the couch to scratch his head (I know, I am such a good girlfriend). I’m thinking to myself “Phew! That wasn’t so bad. Maybe now we can just all have a good time and cheer on LSU to victory. This is gonna be a fun night.” 5 seconds later I realize I am more wrong than he was in the car earlier.

Mid scratch I glance down at him and he’s texting. Not only texting, but openly texting, which is strange. I look to see who he could be texting (while still scratching his head) and then I freeze. I know I’m not the only one who’s ever experienced this so lemme know what it felt like to you… He might as well have punched me in the gut and ruptured a lung… he’s texting his fucking ex girlfriend. Right in fucking front of me. The fucking nerve.

I say nothing. The texting continues. They’re planning a lunch date for the next day. He says he’ll call her tomorrow. I freak like a dog given adrenaline.

I storm back to the guest room, shut the door, lock it, and curl up on the bed.  The tears start. So does the knocking.

ex: “baby what are you doing open the door.”

me: “no go away!”

ex: “OPEN the DOOR.”

me: “I said NO! Leave me alone!”

ex: “Ok I warned you…”

He begins punching through the bedroom door of our jointly rented apartment. I sit up, flabbergasted. The punching does nothing but put huge holes in the door. He gets frustrated and begins kicking. Kicking does the  trick, the door splinters to pieces and I’m sitting there staring up at the drunk hulk.

Then, calm as can be, he motions at the door and says, “Look what you did.”

ME?!?!?! WTF do you say to a completely insane person.

me: “Are you fucking kidding me ex!? Why the fuck would you kick the door down are you crazy?!?”

ex: “baby, baby I did it for you.”

me: “for me…?! wha..”

ex: “I did it to protect you.”

me: “I’m sorry I”m not following.”

ex: “You locked the door and I just wanted to be with you, I had to get to you.”

me: “Well that’s a shitty reason to kick a door down b/c I don’t wanna be with you right now you asshole.”

ex: “Why not?”

me: “Because you’re texting your fucking ex girlfriend right in front of me. That’s why.”

ex: “No I wasn’t”

He always did this. If I didn’t see it happen… it didn’t happen. Text messages were deleted as soon as they were read and I had no proof of any wrongdoing. This alone is enough to drive a girl crazy.

A fight ensues. A HUGE fight. One that involves me leaving the apartment to get in my car to leave and cool off and one that involves him following me and standing in front of the car so I can’t leave. It involves screaming in the streets. It involves him wrestling with me to get my keys away from me b/c he says that “I’m too drunk to drive and he’s trying to protect me, for my own good.” His friend tells him to be careful to not break my wrist. It finally, but not lastly, involves me hiding his cell phone in the couch cushion so deep that even a metal detector wouldn’t detect it.

Then I layed down and began breathing again. I thought I had won. He was in our room packing up some shit because he had decided that he was leaving and I was calming watching football on the couch. (His friend had dipped out shortly after the fight started).

Ex comes storming into the living room.

ex: “where the fuck is my cell phone?!”

me: (calm) “I don’t fucking know. I guess you lost it. You should probably look for it.”

I’m smug. But not for long. He begins “looking for it”. Meaning he begins throwing furniture all over the place and breaking shit. I’m startled to say the least but remain calm even as he’s pinning me down on the couch and screaming in my face to tell him where his phone is. I’m calm. Until he picks me up off the couch with my little dog resting on my chest, and throws me to the ground. I almost crush my dog.

And I’ve had it. Don’t Fuck with my dog.

I pull out my phone.

ex: “Who are you callling?”

me: “The cops. You’re fucking insane.”

He tries with no avail to chuck the couch across the room and then he sits down against the wall… his face shows no sign of distress.

Convo with 911 dispatcher: (I’m crying) Yes? Hi My boyfriend is throwing all our furniture and breaking everything and I’m really scared. (sob) Yeah, we got in a fight and he started freaking out and I almost crushed my dog and…(sob) what?

dispatcher: “Does he have any weapons in the house m’am?”

I pause. I think. I know he does. He has a handgun in the closet somewhere. Sometimes he would pull it out and contemplate suicide out loud while holding it to his head…oh yeah, those were fun nights. One of the many things I had to worry about living with someone with borderline personality disorder or possibly manic depression… or both. But that’s not what I’m thinking about.

I’m thinking about how much trouble I want him to get in. His handgun is hot, meaning he bought it off some random guy at school. Sketchy. Not only that, one time over Halloween when I visited him he went postal and put a round of bullets into some poor girls SUV and they never even questioned him about it because no one saw anything.  I’ve never told anyone that. So I look at him, he looks calmed down, maybe the storm is over.

me: “No… no he doesn’t.” (BIGGEST MISTAKE EVER)

dispatcher: “Ok m’am what’s he doing now?”

me: “He’s sitting. He’s just sitting ever since I called you.”

dispatcher: “Ok m’am a patrol car is on it’s way.”

me: “Thank you.”

I hang up. He looks at me.

ex: “You just made the biggest mistake of your life. You’re so fucked and you don’t even know it. You’re never going to see me again.”

I’m shaking.

ex: “You don’t know cops like I do. Trust me, you’re gonna regret that.”

He’s right about not knowing cops. They’re here to protect and serve right? I’ve never been in trouble in my life, how could I possibly be fucked?

He waits outside our door to intercept the cops before they can talk to me. He’s so mature. Loooooooong story shorter…. When he was pinning me to the couch and screaming at me I got an arm free and tried to get him off me. I failed. However, I did leave a huge scratch on his neck. I, on the other hand, have no marks from him.

Cops are not here to protect and serve. They’re here to meet quota. And in Georgia if someone calls the cops for a domestic dispute, someone’s going to jail.

The next two hours play out like a soap opera. The cops don’t want to take me to jail, they think I’m cute. (aww). They see our ransacked apartment and the broken doors and it’s obvious that little me could not have done this. Unfortunately all of that information is irrelevant in their report. At one point the chief (or whatever they call him) is called in and he suggests that maybe he’ll take the ex to jail for drunk in public since he was outside. This does not happen but the look on his face was amazing. I end up in the back seat of the po po car. Sobbing. Texting my BFF while in handcuffs (not an easy feat). She calls my mom. My mom has already been called by the ex. She later recounts that he calmly called at 1 in the morning and in a monotone voice explained that I was being arrested and taken to jail. My poor poor mom.

While driving to jail I’ joke’ with the police officers and tell them that we should just go get McDonalds and I’ll pay and then we’ll all go home. They find me hilarious but have already called me in and cannot break code. I honestly cannot believe I’m going to jail. How the fuck did this happen.

We walk into the jail building, people crane their necks to see the pretty white girl with swollen red eyes. I’m evidently, an extreme minority in this county jail system. And by extreme, I mean I’m pretty sure I’m the only one.

Random cops holler out to my cops curious about what happened and if they’ve arrested the right person. At least I’m not alone in my disbelief. They all chuckle and shake their heads. Poor girl.

I get put in a holding cell with two other girls. One was driving without a license and gave the cop attitude, the other is a jail regular… so I don’t really talk to her, she’s kinda scary.

The toilet is beyond disgusting. It’s metal for starters, and it hasn’t been flushed in weeks it seems. I start to realize that since I am the only adorable white girl in the building, I can talk my way into special treatment.

They let me come out to use the regular bathroom. I refuse the blood test after seeing the bruise that the nurse left on my current cell mates inner elbow and she doesn’t make me give blood (it’s just to scan your std’s in case you come out of jail with new ones… oh fucking joy. I’ll pass. I’m optimistic that I will be out in a couple hours). When we change into our orange jail clothes and they take all our belongings they actually let me keep my carmex. Thank God. I find out later that carmex is highly in demand and that jail staff don’t normally make any exceptions. I feel like Paris Hilton; except that I’m wearing underwear and sports bra that are 10 sizes too big for me (I’m literally rolling my underwear). Oh and my orange pants say Get Money down one leg and Fuck Bitches down the other in black permanent marker. This is my new conversation starter. They could not have given me better pants.

I make my phone call. I call, of all fucking people, my boyfriend. I know I know. Trust me I know now. I also knew, at the time, that whatever he had said at the house didn’t count. I was in jail now, everything else was forgotten. I was right. He went from, “You’ll never fucking see me again” to “Baby I’m so sorry I’m going to get you out of this I love you So much I’m so sorry”.

I’ll spare you the never-ending account of my time in jail and just hit you with some highlights.

-My mug shot is amazing. and by amazing I mean I look like a little angry serial killer. They wouldn’t let me keep the bracelet with my picture on it when I got out of jail so I have no souvenir =( but it was goooood.

- We get taken to our “pods”, I get assigned a roommate whom I later find out is a 50 year old homeless crack whore who hitchhiked all the way from Baltimore (to Atlanta!) and calls the woods her home. She talks to squirrels. She cant wait to get out and do more crack. She is a firm believer in Jesus Christ and prays more than anyone I’ve ever met. Go figure. “You’re in the right room honey. Jesus is in this room.” Great. I’m so lucky.

- I ask for pillows. I think this is a reasonable request. I get no immediate response because everyone is laughing at me. “HAHAHA what do you think this is?!? The Hilton? AHHAHAHA.”

me: “well… what am I supposed to put my head on?” (honestly perplexed)

More laughter… Hmmm, I guess they don’t give you pillows in jail. How rude.

- There is one other white girl. And she’s my age. At the first available time I approach her thinking we’ll become confidants. Again… I’m wrong.

me: “Hi!”

her: “guuurrrrrl lookit you. you pretty. what’s a pretty white girl like you doin in here?”

me: “I got in a fight with my boyfriend and I got arrested b/c I had no marks on me but I accidentally scratched him. You’re a white girl too!” (I really said that, like it wasn’t blatantly obvious. Thinking back… she did have her hair in braids)

her: “hah! yeahh but… you’re like reallllly white. I’ma call you my lil white girl. I like you, you’re cute lil white girl.”

me: “well if I’m lil white girl, what are you?”

her: “they call me Snow.”

of course they do. And that’s how I got my jail nickname: Lil White Girl. They really did call her Snow too. And she had a lesbian girlfriend in the pod next to ours, they would pass notes through the crack in the door and call each other wifey… but that’s another story.

- I get asked if I’m gay. I say no I’m not. Then I get asked if I want to be gay. No, no I don’t, but thank you for asking.

- I sleep through breakfast (it’s at 4 am)

- Wake up time was 6:30 am. Why? I have no idea, no reason to get an early start on the day… we have nothing to do. They make you clean your cell. By clean your cell I mean fold up the yoga mat you’re sleeping on, fold your top sheet that look 100 years old and the nasty wool blanket they give you and try to make everything look pretty. Fold hand towels, etc. I have no idea what I’m doing.

me: “Why do we make our beds? this is stupid we’re just gonna get back in them.”

crackhead roomie: “well you came on the right day. If we win cleanest pod, we’ll get pizza!”

me: “oh cool pizza day. What kinda pizza?”

crackhead roomie: “I dunno, we’ve never won before. Those bitches upstairs always be talkin and makin us lose.”

I glare upstairs at these girls. But obviously smile when they look at me b/c uhhh they’re kinda scary.

-After room check they lock you OUT of your cells. So you can’t just go back to sleep. Ohhh no, they want you to reallllllly suffer. I was thinking I’d catch up on my sleep. But really I just went basically insane. And you’re not allowed to lay down in the pod, or bring any blankets out of your room. and the seats are all metal little circles. and nothing is comfortable. It’s awful.

- Lunch comes at noon, I’m starving. Lunch is 4 pieces of bread in a baggie with either bologna or salami or some other meat that is just as gross with a packet of mustard or mayo (not both) and a piece of processed cheese. I stare at my “meal”…

me: “Excuse me m’am. I only eat whole wheat bread.”

EVERYONE stares at me.

jail guard: “Well then you’re gonna be gettin pretty hungry.”

me: “You mean there’s no whole wheat bread?”

jail guard: “no.”

me: “ok… well that’s not very healthy… I guess I can eat white bread if I have to… uhh What kind of meat is this?”

jail guard: “It’s bologna.”

me: “Oh ew no, I don’t eat bologna, can I get turkey instead?”

Everyone starts laughing again.

jail gaurd: “Ya get what you get honey, we don’t got no turkey.”

me: “There’s no alternative food plan??!?!? What if I was a vegetarian?!?”

jail guard: “Then you would eat the cheese and bread.”

I’m in shock. This is worse than the elementary school cafeteria. I skip lunch. Food is like sex to people in jail, they literally fight for my lunch. I would throw up if I had any food in my stomach.

-They lock you back in your cell after lunch from 12:30 to 4:30 PM. I dunno why. Most people nap or pray. I just stood at my cell door looking out the small window to wait for the guard to call my name b/c I didn’t wanna miss it when she did. And crying. And listening to my crackhead roomie ramble about Jesus. I know about Jesus lady, I’m a christian,  and his “mysterious ways” don’t involve you trading sex for money ok. I don’t care what he said to you in a dream once, it’s not ok.

- Dinner is worse. Much much worse. I pass on the mystery meat served on a brown plastic platter. More fighting over my food. They all tell me I’ll start eating tomorrow “They all start eating the second day, you’ll see, this food gets mighty tasty when you’re starving.” I tell them, “You have no idea how long I can go without eating. I am a PRO. Watch me bitches.”

- I ask if the orange liquid in the cooler at dinner is Gaterade. More laughing. I must be hilarious to these people. They tell me it’s Tang. I have no idea what Tang is so I stick to water.

- I try unsuccessfully to figure out who won the NCAA football championship. This is the first question I ask when I finally meet with someone from the outside (my lawyer).

- I don’t eat the whole time I’m in there (2 whole days)

- I also don’t shit the whole time I’m in there.

- I also don’t shower.

- I go to use a pay phone and find no dial tone. I’m told that the phones are only turned on at certain times, and only if we’re on good behavior. I later find out that they only call landlines and therefore I have no one to call. Dagger.

- I’ve never been so bored in my entire life. I pace for hours b/c there is literally nothing else to do.

- It’s FREEEZING in there. (to keep germs at bay, yippee)

- A pregnant girl gets transferred to our pod my second day and she hasn’t showered in well over a month. She reeks of the worst B.O. I’ve ever smelled. They hose her down. She still stinks, but it’s bearable.

- Big black women get priority seating in front of the tiniest tv I’ve ever seen. (I know this b/c I got told to move… and I obeyed) The tv is all static b/c of a storm a few months ago and they have no intention of fixing it. It’s only turned on for an hour a day.. they watch Ellen. They love Ellen.

- They refuse to give me my pills (xanax) I am pissed. The one time I actually neeeeed it and they refuse me. I realize I am not Paris Hilton.

- I hear a lot of original rap songs.

- I meet with my mom through Plexiglas. It’s awful. I try to lighten the mood, “Look Mom, my pant legs say ‘Get Money, Fuck Bitches!” She is not amused. I thought it was hilarious.

- I write a heartfelt letter to my (now) ex. It’s pathetic. When we broke up I was in my right mind and took it with me. Thank God he doesn’t have that letter to show anyone.

- I miss my tweezers like hell. Even my crack head roommate tells me to stop picking at my face. I cant help it. At least my issues are small in comparison.

- I would not have survived without my carmex and I left it with my jail mates when I finally got out.

- I learn a ridiculous amount about street life. I had no idea how naive I was.

- I meet with my lawyer. I now feel like Paris again b/c no one else in my pod has a lawyer.

me: “OMG you have GOT to get me OUT of here! WTF are you DOOOing!? Get me out NOW!”

lawyer: “I’m trying as best I can. The process is slow and Georgia is even slower. It’s just taking a while to get everything worked out. You’re boyfriend asked me to give this to you, he’s helping us try to get you out.”

It’s a note. Now, if your girlfriend was in jail basically b/c of you. Think of what you would write to her… ok got that in your head? This is what he wrote:

Hey honey,

I know you’re in jail right now and you’re scared and pissed but everythings ok and I’m working as hard as I can to get you out. I love you.

ex

Seriously, that is all he wrote. Seriously. I’ll double check later b/c I kept the note but that was basically it. So I look up at my lawyer, “Is that it?” He nodds.

I show everyone in the pod the note when I get back. I get a lota “guuurrrll he aint no good” and “you need ta leave that asshole you too good for him gurl” and “you can do so much better than that! You dont even know gurl you need ta get ridda him”. The funny thing is that in the end, all those crack heads and street girls were right.

- In court getting bail set I am the first name called. Why? My last name doesn’t start with ‘A’…hmmm… I’m thinking it’s b/c I’m white. White and armed with lawyer.

- I get to sign myself out since I’ve never been in trouble before. They want to send me to AA meetings b/c they assumed I was drunk during the incident (I was not) but my lawyer has them wave that b/c “It’s really not necessary”. Girls… lawyers are your best friends, never forget that. (mine even sent me a Christmas card)

-I did have to do community service (16 hours, not bad), attend a domestic abuse class (just one, it was stupid) and complete an anger management course (which they let me do online and the way it goes is basically if you pay, you pass) I also had to reappear in court a couple times. The ex was never there, thankfully. And now everythings over and the case got expunged. =)

So I think that’s all the highlights, I may think of some more later. But that pretty much sums up my jail experience. 4 months or so later when he dumped me (I went back to him after jail despite my mothers pleading) he referenced Christopher as one of the many reasons.

Ok, where the hell was I? OH yeah, Christopher’s crazy girlfriend. So, I’m single now and Christopher and I hang out all the time. His girlfriend hates me even though we’ve never met and sometimes I’ll text him and it’s pretty obvious when he’s with her.

Like on Sunday. I texted him with “Hey smokey!” (it’s my nickname for him)

Christopher (from now on I’ll call him C b/c Christopher is a really long name): “I’m not talking to you.”

me: “What? Why?”

He doesn’t have to respond… I get it now. But he does anyways.

C: “cause I told you I wasn’t talking to you 2 months ago.”

me: “ohh. right. sorry I forgot. Well I need to get something from your house so let me know when I can come over.”

C: “What do you need to get?”

me: “It’s a secret.”

I can literally see her in my head freaking out at this point. It’s highly enjoyable. I giggle and wait for a response.

No response.

me: “Hello?”

…

me: “Ok well I’m just gonna come over in a lil bit.”

This is toooo good.

C: “What the fuck.”

C: “we haven’t been talking why r u lunching?”

C: “You know I’m with Gemma What the fuck.”

me: “B/c we’ve been friends since 3rd grade and you don’t just dump friends like that. Besides, I think your stepmom misses me.”

I am amazing. His stepmom hates Gemma.

There is no response. Until the next day. C calls me while I’m at work and he is not happy.

C: “Whhhhhhy would you dooo that?”

me: “hehehehehehee wasn’t it awesome!?!?!!? heheheheeh”

C: “No! It was awful! She freaked out and started searching the house for what you could have possibly left there. and then you said you were gonna come over and she totally lost it.”

me: “omg, that’s exactly what I had pictured in my head. That’s hilarious. What are you doing right now?”

C: “I just left Gemma’s work, she made me come eat lunch with her b/c she doesn’t trust me to be without her all day since you might just ’show up’”

me: “AHHHAHAHAHAHAHA oMg I cant breathe omg yes.”

C: “It’s not funny!”

me: “It is So funny.”

We decide to go see a movie that night (last night). While I’m at C’s house his girlfriend calls and they fight b/c he refuses to change his number (she says he has to get a new cell # or shes breaking up with him. She thinks a new number will solve the problem of me) So she breaks up with him (this has happened before) so we don’t have to worry about her for the rest of the night. I put on her pink juicy hoodie and ‘forget’ to take it off. I love my new hoodie. =)

We get to the theater. We’re going to see My bloody Valentine 3D and I am pumped about it. I go straight to the automated kiosk ticket center and we fuck with it for a few minutes until we realize it wont accept his gift card. damnit. We get in line instead. The whole time in line we’re talking about how awesome this is gonna be and how we’ve never seen a 3D movie before (he actually has seen Baywolf in 3d but I’m the only one that really matters here). The couple in front of us gets their tickets to see the 3D movie and finally we get to the ticket counter.

2 for My Blood 3 please.

ticket guy: “ohhhhh… that movie just sold out.”

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?

SERIOUSLY!? yeah, those bitches in front of us stole our tickets. I’m left completely let down and Valentineless. C’s even sadder because he did just kinda get broken up with. We sulk back to his house. A failure of an evening.

On the bright side we watched The House Bunny when we got home and it was hilarious.

So that’s the story of how I went to jail, my huge letdown and how C got broken up with. I bet they’re back together already. I’ll keep you posted.

PS- It’s 8:40 PM and I’m still at work writing this. Holy Shit. Get me outta here.

Nothing Good Ever Happens After Midnight…

I am the Devil.

No, not really, that would be crazy. Evil maybe. Awful friend. Conniving. Thoughtless. Those would all work. You could also say that I’m a bitch, two-faced, etc, etc. How do I get myself into these situations? Oh wait, I know, I find them extremely entertaining and exciting. Damn. I may have a few issues.

So, story time kids, gather round!

Background: I have this really good friend, lets call her Kendra. Kendra has been dating this boy, lets call him Daniel, on and off but mostly on for a year and a half. They break up alot, its really bad. They should really move on. From the moment I met Daniel he flirted with me like crazy. He’s a cool guy other than the fact that he’s a lousy boyfriend so I coyly flirted back when Kendra wasn’t around but I was never obvious at all. (yes I know, I’m already an awful person) moving on. They broke up like ohhhhh 3 days ago? Mayyyyybe 4. And the story begins…

Last Night: I’m at a bar with a friend (who is also very good friends with Kendra) watching Monday Night Football. After the game, guess who walks in the bar…? Daniel, duh. The friend I’m with, lets call her Juicy (I know, that’s weird, but I like it), goes, “Oh my God Daniel just walked in”. I wanna go say hi and Juicy says we shouldn’t because of Kendra. She’s a loyal friend. I am a piece of awfulness. We say hi on our way out the door and he tells me he wants me to stay. I say no (don’t praise me yet). I drive Juicy home and then…

Yeah. Uh huh. I went back to the bar. Why? I really don’t know. I was bored, he’s fun, I didn’t wanna go home yet…There could be many reasons but none of them are good. So, Enter Bar for the second time. He’s excited, as he should be, I’m awesome. We hang out for a while (meaning we play pool and make out like we are the only people in the bar… however we are not the only people in the bar at all). And no I wasn’t the kissing instigator; but being a participant is just as bad. Bar closes. We go to his friends house and hang out for another hour, drunk. At this point I’m already feeling totally guilty and wondering what I’m doing there. I take him back to his car even though I don’t want to. I just wanna go home. But he needs a ride, so I do. And then I go home.

I am fucked. He likes me. Yeah, he told me. And wants to go out again. Like a date. Fuck that. My friends are going to KILL me if they find out what I did. And by kill me, I mean hate me and not be my friend anymore and spread nasty gossip along the lines of “whore” “bitch” “slut” “fake” “not trustworthy”. Yeah. They cant find out. That was such a bad idea. And I can’t believe he has the nerve to say we should go out on a date. Ugh and Ew. I wouldn’t never date him b/c he’s just completely not my type of guy (he doesn’t have a good job, car, money, degree of any sort. I’m so superficial, I know. Don’t hate). So why do I find stuff like this so fun? I really do love these girls with all my heart. Kendra’s especially my favorite why did I do this?!? Ugh this is awful. Let’s hope they’re not bloggers. Wouldn’t that be my fuckin luck.

Friday Already!?

Friday. geez the weeks go fast. I have literally done NOTHING all week ( except shop online), And it’s not even my fault. I haven’t been given anything to do its ridiculous. The funny part is that today I actually do have work to do finally and now i decide to write on my blog. Im so good at balancing activities.

Monday I said this was gonna be a helpful blog and maybe sometimes it will be, but maybe people can just learn from my mistakes. thats helpful right? Today I could actually use some advice or sympathy. either one works. I’ve had the same best friend since 9th grade. she recently moved back to VA too and we were all excited to be living in the same place again (or so i thought). Basically whenever I’m not around (so ive heard) she talks mad shit about me to our other friends. first of all, WTF!? second of all, what should I do? I feel a Huuuuuge drunk bitch fight coming on (maybe tonight, uh oh) and honestly im big on love and peace (not in a hippie way, just in a chill out kinda way) and she’s more uptight and i really dont wanna fight with her. But Im sick of hearing that my best friend says stuff about me thats so bad to other people that they feel the need to tell me that my best friend is a bitch. and they dont even tell me what she says… so ya know its bad. but i honestly cant figure out what the fuck she would say about me that people dont already know. I would get sick of hearing someone talk bad about someone else, esp their bff.

anyways, im supposed to go out with her tonight… so we shall see.

ughhh yesterday I went to kickboxing class with a friend and I am SO sore. It feels SO good. We’re trying to get in shape in a week b/c we’re going to the Keys for Labor Day weekend. Im so excited! i dunno if we’re gonna actually get in shape in a week but maybe a littttle toned. couldnt hurt anyways. The instructor was seriously a Billy Blanks wannabe. he was a seriously buff black man wearing all black spandex and he would smack your stomach and tell you to tighten up and like basically lift your legs higher if you wernt kicking high enough or hard enough. he was awesome. I havent worked out in months AND i smoke (really need to quit) but i was dying, it felt amazing.

So I guess I should get some work done… it’s noon.. i guess i could go to lunch haha. nah probably wont. I get to work and then i eat breakfast so its basically like an early lunch. saves money too! there thats a helpful tip, haha.

oh yeah I just got caught not working at all by my boss. That’s great. go me. blog time over.

happy friday people!!