Category Archives: drinking

Lucy… You got some ‘splainin to do…

I believe this kid's miz costume conveys *just* how sorry I am.

Well, I guess from the offset I should begin this way: I’m sorry. I’m sorry to the 6 or so people who actually got a kick out of my ramblings. Sorry to my little bloggy-blog which I actually thought would somehow remind me to write in it. Sorry to me, cause I actually convinced myself I would be able to do this without any dedication, provocation, or sobriety. Your little “where did you go-es” and occasional checks back have brought me back into the fold; and please accept me as the prodigal son returned to reap his fortune. Or really just the chick with too much time on her hands and a desire to make a few people laugh because of her unfortunate life.

Onward and upward. I will try to reinstate myself in this space (and I totally understand if you won’t have me back… Shoes don’t stretch, men don’t change, and cheaters always cheat… I’m guilty of being once-bitten twice-shy as well, friends) without any glittering promises of actually doing this daily or of making you lose 5 lbs by eating more. Actually, I quit blogging and GAINED 5 pounds. What in Sam Hell is that all about?

Now, I guess I could just give you a brief run-through of where I’ve been the past 7 months. I’ll harken back to some of these times with stories and a Sarah Palin-esque teary-eyed nostalgia; but in hindsight, I don’t think they’re as entertaining as the other foul and menial things that surround me today. Here we go.

January: Started a blog, cat got declawed, quit blogging, school started. Rampant drinking binges ensued. Roommate got another cat… Still no boyfriend or ability to see through clothing. On the upside, Bad Romance played on the radio about 42 billion times. It may or may not have snowed in Georgia.

February: Still drinking, still had a cat. Threw the “Second Annual Singles Only” Valentines Day Party at my house… Ended the night drinking with my cat. Got elected Student Body Secretary; even though I am highly unqualified for the job. I’m just popular and I look some-what good in a skirt. Or at least better than the competition, but he’s no skirt-chaser (which probably affected his chances at winning in my SUPERCONSERVATIVE College Town) and looks like Squidward from SpongeBob. Then I went to Uganda for two weeks, almost died in a plane crash on the way home. That was cool. And by “cool” I mean “absolutely horrifying because I am completely self-obsessed and I watch a lot of LOST and just didn’t think it was my time to go so I said the F-Word in front of about 20 preachers and rude Europeans and haven’t completely gotten over it.”

March: Nothing much to write home about. Still got a cat, still don’t got a boyfriend. Started looking at Graduate Schools because I’m paranoid about my future. Please note at this phase in my life, Grad School was 15 months away. Oh, and visiting Grad Schools was my Spring Break. The

Speedy Pete, in all his glory.

decrepit alcoholic in me was horrified when I told him we wouldn’t be hitting the Jersey Shore. For the record, his name is “Speedy Pete.”

April: Had a few minor life crises trying to rule the world… But I ended the semester with a 4.0. SHOCKING. Seriously. I don’t “do” good grades; my arguement to my parents has always been that I’m in it for the “experience.” Apparently being delightfully average isn’t going to cut it any more. Guess what? Still no boyfriend. Also won an award on campus for being “Greek Leader of the Year” that was a giant Bobcat cast in bronze that weighed like 20 lbs and resembled more of an Owl. Talk about my student dollars at work…

May: Took a Freshman English class for the Summer Semester, blew some kids minds with my knowledge. Didn’t blow any hard enough to find a boyfriend though… Guess the train won’t stop in CougarTown till August. Also visited 3 Confederate Forts within 3 days; which is like pornography for me. In my time of absense, my formerly impassioned love for the State of Georgia has become something so fierce and uncontainable that I should probably get checked out… I guess Wisdom, Justice, and Moderation is my Boyfriend.

June: I don’t want to talk about it.

July: Celebrated the cat’s 1st birthay… Reason #54025 I don’t have a boyfriend. In fact, Celebrated 1 full year of being totally and completely single. WAAAAH-WAAAAAHHH. Celebrated America’s 324th Birthday with dazzling redneckness. Started back to my summer classes. Rearranged my room at My Miserable House (MMH) and have committed to making a life change again.Seriously. I’ve gotten fat and I’ve got no money. I’ve gotta make some changes; and I’d like to re-start here on the interwebz.

Last time that lasted about 5 days; but I’m being a little less demanding of myself this time around. We already know that my former attempt crashed and burned, so lets hope this one will just do a few touch-n-go landings like my flight out of Entebbe. I stilhow l think I have the ability to be a little funnier. In fact, since going to Africa, I think I’ve gotten even a little more funnier (how you gon’ act, Grammar Nazis?) cause I saw some pretty nutty stuff. Nutty enough that I plan to go back again in December. So, look forward to some scary stories over the next 5 months of the creative/sketchy/self-destructive things I do to come up with $3000 to help some baby orphans.

On a parting note: I apologize again, a million times. I promise, promise, promise I am back. And I will love on you and yours until you can’t stand it and you have me back. And that’s not a threat– that’s a promise. I have a lot of extra time since I *still* don’t have a boyfriend and no longer have a means to fund Speedy Pete’s booze-hounding ways.

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Filed under Cat Lady, college, drinking, humor, life, MMH (My Miserable House), Not Being Skinny, Reasons I Don't Have a Boyfriend

Day #3: Hey, Life Alert… It’s time you expand your consumer base!

A little aside: Day #2 had even more readers than Day #1, a number that was for reals closer to 100 than 0! This is both thrilling and unbelievable because my luck is about as irregular as Jamie Lee Curtis before Activia. Keep up the good work, kids!

This winter break, I decided to take a break from my college town and move back to the ‘burbs with my parents for about a month. There are about 8 good things about that decision and about 238329 terrible ones, but that’s another story for another day. One of the good things is that I’ve had a lot (and I mean A LOT) of time to watch TV. And we all know who watches weekday daytime T.V.

  • People who never went to college (and probably didn’t graduate high school) and thus are led to believe they could make millions from their own living room or that going to college in their pajamas is REALLY the best way to do it,
  • Stay-at-home-Moms (housewives, homemakers, whatever the term is) who may have a minute or two of peace to catch The Doctors or something else educational and gross before their monstrous children/husbands return, and
  • Old people.
  • One commercial that is clearly targeted marketing to the 70+ crowd? LIFE ALERT. We’ve all seen Nana struggling on the floor (and probably laughed at it once or twice, whether inside or out, especially if it was pre-2000’s new marketing campaign) with a lackluster “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.” Button? Pushed. Help? On  the way. Best present you ever decided to force upon get your elderly parents? Life Alert.

    I have a serious, serious problem with this commercial. I am in my 20s, and I have a FAR greater need for Life Alert than my Nana. This woman is like an 80 year old Chuck Norris; she has fallen and she always gets up. The lady even moves her own furniture. I however, live a lifestyle that puts me and my 3 roommates at a far greater need for Life Alert. Some reasons include (but are not limited to the following): our 100-year-old 2-story house is made of wood with no insulation and has lead-based paint which keeps the windows sealed shut, we are poor and refuse to turn the gas on so we always use space heaters, the house has caught fire before, our entire flooring is original HARDwood which has been known to leave bruises and fractures on the asses/faces of drunk people, we’ve had gas leaks, and we live in a crime-infested college town historic district. It’s a veritable hell/shit hole disguised as a Southern Historic Home. Damned place doesn’t even have a driveway… and every day and night I spend there I am facing certain death.

    Hey, Life Alert, grab your trifocals and read between the lines… YOU COULD MAKE MILLIONS IF YOU’D EXPAND YOUR MICRO-SPECIFIC CONSUMER BASE!!! You could take full advantage of stupid college girls with deep pockets who live in crappy old college houses. In fact, if you expanded your marketing base away from Nana, you could probably catch every other Cat-Lady Hermit (read, me in 40 years) who is likely to fall and be found dead, half-eaten by her cat. You could reach all those people on HOARDERS who literally get stuck in their own trash mires. All those reclusive chess players and mathmeticians they convince brilliant actors to play have near-constant panic/anxiety attacks that would bring in some major money and publicity if they had life alert.

    You seem to forget, dear Life Alert, that hermits, recluses, drunkards, clinically insane persons, and cat ladies come in all shapes, ages, and sizes; and cats don’t have opposable thumbs to dial 911. In fact, they’d probably rather you die so you’d stop dressing them up as Santa and teaching them the dance moves to Bad Romance. I guarantee Life Alert that they’d make millions if they made a commercial with a drunk college kid Life Alerting the paramedics because he’s “busted ass” and he can’t get up. Or if they showed Antoine Fisher Life Alerting after he got beaten by that wet rag. Sure, they can sleep at night just a-waitin’ for the Baby Boomers, but there’s plenty of money to be made elsewhere.

    They claim to save a life every 26 minutes… They could make that every 13 minutes if they took my advice… and probably every 7 between the hours of 12 midnight and 4 AM. But go ahead, stick with your niche market. Just don’t be mad when I say “I told you so” next time my house catches on fire.

    http://www.lifealert.com/index.html

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    Filed under Best Ideas Ever, Cat Lady, college, drinking, humor, Lazy, life, musings