Beer goggles and bad judgement

That may be a misleading title, but just play along. It came to me because of my last attempt at dating and how horribly wrong it went.

They always say you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince, but there are more toads than frogs and not a single prince has morphed out of any of my mugging down with these slimy creatures.

I had recently been dumped by a boy, (yes, they're all still boys.) and I was pretty bummed about it. He was a really nice guy, I did all that I was supposed to do according to the books. Be a sweet girl, don't call him a douche, don't call him first, you know- that list. I even took the sucker to a NFL game to which he was a major fan of the team, he met my badass parents and everything was going well until one day about a week after the game.

(All over texts messages) We were talking about how Walmart is a circus and no one should go there if they have the option of Target or elsewhere when he replied- "Yeah, haha, that place is rough. Oh, hey by the way, I dont mean this in a bad way, but I need to tell you something. I'm not looking for any commitment right now and I still want to play the field, and if you come meet up with me tonight there will be some other girls I invited out, so I don't want things to be awkward."

So all in one message he agreed with me that WallyWorld is a place for the carneys and then told me that he wants to "play the field." Bravo, you toad. You're a jerk. I was crushed for all of 39 seconds and said a lot of  "SCREW HIM"s and was over it.

So the following weekend I went out with some girlfriends of mine and met a guy who seemed pretty nice. We will call him Peter. He wasn't the regular guido gorilla juicehead I usually go for, but he could do. We exchanged numbers and talked for a few days and in those few days I discovered that he was in his late twenty's, was in the military, and seemed to be a really cool guy.

I should have known better.

A few days after the bar scene he called me and said he wanted to hang out for a bit, and was coming to pick me up in an hour. Cool, seemed all clear from here. Except for the fact that if he came to pick me up, I wouldn't have a get away car. So I asked my roommates if they would please come to my rescue if I needed it and thought he was going to murder me and bury me in the backyard. Their responses were less than friendly:

Roommate 1: "Uhh, yeah, I dunno, I've kinda had a long day and I might be too lazy to come save you from murderers."
Roommate 2: "Maybe you shouldn't go if you assume he's going to kill you. But I'll probably be asleep anyway and won't hear your call."

Jerks. Obviously they were both being sarcastic (I hope) and wished me well as I ran out the door.

Here we go.

He picked me up, I got in the car and he unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over to give me a hug.
 A little weird, but maybe he's just a nice guy and trying to break the ice. Yeah, probably that.
 So we take off and he asks me if I like to listen to Christian music.
"Well, uh, yeah I mean, I don't listen to it, but Im not totally against it. Jesus is cool in my book." "Then listen to the words of this song, I made this CD, it's a really beautiful song."
Right, okay. Im listening. But .8 seconds later we begin talking again and I forget to listen to it, and ask him where we might be headed, since he still hadn't filled me in yet.

We end up at Walmart to pick up some school supplies for him and he tells me his roommate works at Walmart.. who we run into, of course. This guy looked like he was straight out of Locked Up. It was scary. But I was nice and we went on our way. Peter then stopped at the redbox thing and picked out a movie for us to watch, and on the way back I had to deter him from coming to my house to watch this movie because 1. My DVD player is broken and 2. I'm not parading your ass upstairs in front of my roommates.

So we end up at his house and it looks like it very well could be a meth lab, or a place where kidnapped children end up. Scary. But Peter is still being super nice, so I'm really trying to give him a chance. (Mom said I have to give nice guys a chance.) We go into Peters room and it is the creepiest room I had ever been in. Food nutrition papers thumbtacked to the walls, gold chains also hanging from thumb tacks, and just overall weird. He steps out of the room and I noticed a dry erase board on the wall that said "THINGS TO FOCUS ON" 1. THE LORD. 2. SCHOOL 3. BOXING. You really needed to write those down? You were going to forget these things?

Movie starts and I start to panic. I excuse myself to the bathroom and text my mom and one of my roommates and said something along the lines of "SOS I GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE! MAYDAY MAYDAY HES A CREEP!"

I feel like I need to take the time to say I was not afraid for my life or safety, but he was a weirdo.

Back to the room I go and I lay back on the bed. "Are you cold? I have a blanket." "No, I'm good, I have a longsleeve shirt, a jacket, jeans and socks on, Im good to go." "Are you sure?" -Then he just goes ahead and throws the jankey nappy blanket over me. Hombre, I said I wasn't cold. Im almost never cold. But I went with it. Whatever.

Then despite my prayers and having my fingers crossed for the first 40 minutes of the movie, Peter goes in for a smooch.

And I've never kissed a dead person, or a bird, but I think I can compare this moment to kissing both of those things.

It was the worst thing I have ever experienced in my life. Not to mention the bad coffee breath. People, I was dying. I finally ended that excellent time and the movie continued. He tried to plant one on me a few more times but I dodged them like a bullet. After the movie was over I sprang up and threw my jacket and shoes on and told him I was pretty sure it was getting late. So Peter stands up, gets his jacket and walks over to me and grabs me, in what seemed to be his recreation of The Notebook kiss. Except I wanted to throw up. He dramatically dropped his jacket on the ground and pulled me closer.

Have you ever tried to throw a cat into the water? Or pull gum off of your shoe? It was similar to that. I wasn't moving. Finally I actually started laughing because he was getting super weird and I was literally standing there on my heals with my hands by my side trying to give him a hint that I was seconds away from either punching him or blowing chunks.

He finally dropped me off and I jumped out of his car like I stole something. No way was I gonna go through that again. NO WAY. Ran upstairs and called my mom to unload the deets. (Details, silly)

The very next day, Peter text me and said "Did I make you a lil uncomfortable last night"

UH, Yeah, Pete. You DID make me a "lil" uncomfortable you big freak. WHO TAKES PEOPLE TO WALMART AND TO A METHLAB ON THE FIRST DATE?!?!

It goes without saying, but I never spoke to Poor Peter again, and I never bothered to respond to his message. If you're near the age of 30, and thats your A game... you need help, mijo.



And it wont be from me.

I'm not a morning person, or a early afternoon person either. In fact, I'm not even a person before about 12:30

I didn't anticipate having something to blog about so soon, but there is something I need to share.

I am a genius and signed up for 8:00am classes on Tuesday/Thursday and 9:00am on MWF. I hate mornings. I used to instantly come up with a chronic deadly disease as soon as I woke up when I lived with my mom. It rarely ever passed inspection and when I was even half way believeable she would say "Okay, just go to school for a little bit, if you still feel bad by lunch, I'll come get you."

Im stupid and fell for it all the time and of course by lunch I was over being tired and grouchy that I stayed all day. Moms are so smart.. Tricky mindreaders.

Anyway, back to the story, I have a 9:00 class every MWF and the attendance policy is pretty strict so I have to go. But I don't go without a slight protest. I roll out of bed at 8:15 sometimes :17, brush my teeth, find some pants, slather on some deodorant, throw in a ponytail, maybe a headband if I'm feeling fancy and I'm usually ready by 8:25. I have to leave my house by 8:30 to find parking. I am quick, people.
Oh, did I mention that my hair is almost always beyond dirty? I like to refer to it as bacon head. Its a real cute look, and the only makeup I put on is the eyebrow liner I use to fill in my nonexsistant 'brows. No one wants to look like a greasy cancer patient, not even me.

And before you ask, I don't even pluck my eyebrows. I only have about 7 of them and their bleach blond. Get off me, I wouldn't chose to have to chola my eyebrows if I didnt have to.


OKAY- so Ive made it to class without making eyecontact with anyone and find my seat and just like clockwork my teacher starts on time with "Does anyone have any positives to share?"

Now, this sounds like a great way to start your morning, by thinking of the positive things going on and to hear how other people are having positive days..

Except it's not. Not to me. And not at 9:00am.

The girl who, on the first day, told the class she was a selfproclaimed "front row junkie" and spilled her coffee everywhere almost always has a great story to tell. EVERY MORNING. Now, this wouldn't bother me if it was something along the lines of, "I found $20 today, or I got engaged last night." Or even, "I decided to get a spill proof container so I wont spill stuff and act a fool." But it's never that simple.

It goes a little something like this:

Teacher: "So, does anyone have a positive to share?"
Front row junkie (FRJ): UM YES! I have a positive!

Teacher realizing this is the only person that has their hand at full attention in the air, is reluctant but allows this to happen anyway..

FRJ: Today, well, this morning before I came to class. (DUH) I was asleep in my bed (Good thing you weren't in your closet, or outside, stupid) and my cat Harvey woke me up by purring and putting his tail in my face and it woke me up with a smile.


Now, this is about the time I slammed my head on the desk. What part of that story is A. a positive or B. useful for anyone else to hear? And to top it all off, I hate cats so that would be the biggest negative if that happend to me. Sick.

A few more people shared their positives, like one girl said that after class today she gets to go to the doctor and find out the gender of her baby. Alright, girl, that is infact a positive. Good for you. Gold star, you pass.
Another girl said that her brother is coming home from over seas from the military. Again, bravo, that is a good thing. Quite a positive. I love America and I love babies. Both of you pass.

AND THEN FRJ's lightbulb sparks up again and her poorly manicured hand shoots towards the sky and she says, "Today is the day that I have to be on campus and at school for 11 straight hours. EELLEEVEENN straight hoursssss. (She was kinda dragging this out.) But, I'm gonna do it with a smile on my face!" ::Chuckle chuckle, snort, awkward laugh::

You dumb, dumb, unfortunate soul. If I wasn't so tired and lazy I would surely raise my hand and tell you that you're an idiot because YOU KNOW THAT ISN'T A POSITIVE. And you WILL NOT be smiling later on. Actually, Im gonna super stalk her one day and she better have all of her pearly whites shining through all day.

Why do you need to hear yourself talk everyday, Front row junkie? You're really annoying people like me. And me most importantly. She has also shared somehow that she is 32 years old.

God bless the children that end up in your classroom one day. I hope you have a football field length classroom so you can train all your furture FRJ's of the nation.


Peace out, girlscout.

Keeping track of unfortunate events.

Since about the beginning of time, or at least since I've begun to laugh at these unfortunate events and retell them to other people, I have noticed that God places me in some very interesting situations and I get a lot of rain on my parades. Not in a sense that you should feel sorry for me after reading these stories, because you shouldn't, but rather laugh and be glad that this unbelieveable crap isn't happening to you on a daily basis.

I have retold many of the stories I plan to post on here to many of my close friends and family so if you come across one that you may already know either A. Get over it, or B. Relive the excitement and horror all over again and keep reading. :)

I can tell you that most of these stories have been cooped up in my hat rack for awhile now so they may not come out in order, but I will do my best to update you on the time, place and level of awkwardness I had reached at that time in my life.

So, sit back and enjoy some kick-you-in-the-crotch-spit-on-your-neck fantastic stories. My life is rarely boring.


Now that I have actually sat down to take the time to start blogging this disaster, I can't seem to pinpoint a great tale to begin with. Let me start by telling you about where many of my stories may be coming from, at least the most recent stories:


1. I am a server at a chicken restuarant.
2. This particular chicken slangin' establishment is open until 2am everyday of the week, which leads to a lack of sleep, tons of irritability and a certain blossoming hatred for people.
3. I am in college, and I live with two roommates. I do love these two lovely chupacabras, really I do. But some of the things that happen in this apartment need to be shared with people. It's a constant sitcom.
4. These said roommates are ALSO my coworkers. We get lots of bonding time. ;)
5. I attract really stupid friends. I love these friends because they make me look a lot smarter and let me prove my dominance over them all the time, and many of these stories would not be as fun with out them but Lordy lordy, the crayons in my box are dull and don't have their paper labels on them anymore.


Whiiiiich leads me to my first tale that covers many of this factors:

I work at this restuarant fine dining chicken. The managers are irritable and the other servers often compete for an "I hate my job the most" title on a daily basis, its a lovely time. Really. Not to mention the hoodrat trash that comes in and I have to fake a smile for and hold back my desire to beat on their head like a bongo. BUT THATS BESIDE THE POINT-

This particular morning was carrying on just like every other, we were all instructed by the grumpy managers to Pledge the wooden chairs and wipe things down that weren't dirty to "look busy." And when we were done "looking busy" we were supposed to just make laps around the bar... awkward and pointless, but this was only a reward for us finally pledging everything and all the chairs were so greasy you were guaranteed to look like you had a bad case of anal leakage when you stood up, if you even were able to hold on to that slippery chair long enough to sit down. These things stay greased up, baby.

Anyway, mildly busy morning when all of a sudden there was a strange smell taking over the kitchen area, then slowly but surely the drains were backing up and flooding the kitchen. Now, this doesn't seem to matter except its not like we can avoid going into the kitchen. No matter how hard I try to look busy doing something else. So 30 minutes or so after the first notice of sewage smell the kitchen was literally filled with water. I had to tiptoe around to make sure I wasn't up to my ankles in shit-water by the time I made it out to the tables again to fake a smile and refill their glass of sweet tea for the 3536th time.

The managers and cooks were all in a panic and we were instructed to "not make a scene" so the guests wouldn't become aware that they were now being served from the bottom of the Ninja Turtle tunnel.

It. Was. Gross.

We were literally slopping around in this water, and blocking the view to the kitchen by putting trashcans in the way. Like really? You didnt notice all of a sudden your server was wet and smelled funny?

But no, the show must go on people, despite health code, smealth code. It's all good. People need their chicken like they need the crack sweet tea. Gross.

Finally while every manager was crowded around this one drain trying to snake it or something (clearly I avoided the situation at all costs) the manager that had been in the least pleasant mood all day and was MAKING MY LIFE HELL not being so nice was leaning over the drain when the toxic cancer deadbody water splashed up in his face and got IN HIS MOUTH.

I will carry the mental image of his face after that happend in my head for the rest of my life.
Sweet revenge baby, sweet revenge.