Tuesday, November 18, 2003

The Road to Hell...

Okay.  I love Best Friend.  I don’t know what I would do without her.  That said, I’ll begin.

The fact that Best Friend and I have been friends for so long means a lot to me.  It also means that after 13 years of friendship, I have earned the right to bitch about her any time I want.  You are not allowed to bitch about her.  I reserve the right to kick someone’s ass for talking shit about my girl.  I have hit Gordon several times for this.  I however, have earned bitching rights.  And so, here I go.

Please do not ever do this to your friends.

Best Friend recently moved to Baltimore.  Best Friend’s old college roommate (who I will call Loopy) recently moved to New York.  Best Friend was originally going to Loopy’s for New Years.  Loopy is coming home to Houston, instead.

ME:  Loopy’s first New Year’s in New York and she’s coming home?!?!
BF:  Yeah.  Originally, I was gonna get her keys and go up and spend New Year’s there.
ME:  By yourself?  That’s no fun!
BF:  Well, your birthday/Christmas present was gonna be a plane ticket to New York so we could spend it together.
ME:  Was gonna be?
BF:  Yeah.  I bought a car instead.

Okay.  How you gonna do that to someone?  I have a very short list of things I want to do in this life, and New York at New Year is one of them.  Build up my dream, then throw it down in the dirt and stomp all over it.  Damn you!  DAAAAMN YOOOOOU!

Posted by amy t. @ 09:57 AM in • Stick By 'Em, Stuck With 'Em ·

BTW...

For those that were wondering I went to the Houston Aeros v. the Milwalkee Admirals game on Saturday.  Okay, really it was just Mel who was wondering, but I’d like to think at least one other person out there cares…

Posted by amy t. @ 08:34 AM in • Imitation of Life ·

So long my dears...

Well, I have survived the great downpour of 2003.  My boss was really nice and let me leave really early yesterday during a break in the rain.  I drove down the street, got to a stop sign, and suddenly froze.  There was a small lake in front of me.  I drive a small car, so I wasn’t entirely thrilled about my chances of making it through.  I noticed that there were cars coming up behind me, so I figured I’d do the smart thing.  I put my car in reverse.  Now, normally, that would signify “Hey!!!! Don’t pull up behind me because I don’t want to go this way! I will get stuck!” For the truck and the 18 wheeler coming up, it meant exactly that.  They both pulled into the right lane and turned left in front of me.  Rock on, Mr. Truck Driver.  Great.  Only one more car and I can reverse out of this drowning pool.  Um, no such luck.  The third car pulled up right behind me.  And when I say car, I’m not giving the full idea.  Hummer.  An asshole in a Hummer pulled up behind my little Civic with the “I can’t get through this” lights on.  Prick.  I had no choice.  I plowed on.  After going agaist my better judgement and getting through one more small lake, I did some parking lot weaving to get to the main road.  I finally got on the highway and thought it would be smooth sailing. 

Wrong. 

I start going up the overpass from one highway to the next, and then everything was at a stand still.  I drive a standard car, so stop and go traffic on a steep incline is never fun.  To make matters worse, just as I looked down at my gas guage to reassure myself that I had enough gas for this, the light went on.  Oh sweet mother of fuck.  If I run out of gas, I won’t even be able to get my car off the road, since I can’t push it up the incline.  Air conditioner, off.  Radio, off.  Cell phone, glued to ear.  Only Best Friend could really appreciate this moment, so I called her.  The only other time in my life I nearly ran out of gas was with her.  We were on that bridge in Louisiana.  You know, the 34 mile long one.  The longest bridge in the world.  In stop and go traffic.  There are no exits for 34 miles, and 3 miles onto the bridge my light went on.  So I called her and we had a good laugh.  She always makes me feel better.  She talked me all the way to Gordon’s house.  Once I got back on level ground, I discovered I had plenty of gas to get home with, it was the angle fucking up my gas guage.  Unfortunately it took me an hour and forty minutes to get from my office to my man’s.  It usually takes me 35 minutes to get from work to my house.  Yuck.

So later, when Gordon got home, we took his truck to go rescue Soggy Sophie.  Gordon wanted to take my little car.  He didn’t believe me when I said my parking lot would be flooded, because nowhere around us had high water.  I finally won and we took the truck.  He’s never been so glad he listened to me.  The water was so high he had to park way away from my apartment.  And me, in my favorite fuck-me boots (read: knee high, black and shiny) and my brand new pants went to get the dog.  I felt like that Russian dancer in The Nutcracker.  I had my pants all tucked in to the top of my boots.  The water was about mid to three quarters up my shin.  I got all the way to the door only to find I didn’t have my keys.  This was really not my day.  Swim back, get Gordon’s keys.  Side stroke myself (quit giggling) right back to the door.  Get Sophie.  Okay, now here’s the tricky part.  I had to carry Sophie back to the car.  So here I am, with my bag of clothes for work today in my sopping wet clothes from work yesterday, carrying a 40 pound dog across Lake Kickinmyass.  Phew.  Made it. 

All turned out well in the end, but I think I’ve ruined my boots forever.  So if we could just have a moment of silence for the greatest boots ever… Please bow your head and join me in saying “So long.”

Posted by amy t. @ 08:32 AM in • Imitation of Life ·

Monday, November 17, 2003

Well, break out the swim

Well, break out the swim suits, it’s flooding in H-town.  I’ve already recieved a frantic call from each of my parents.  The flooding around my work is getting so bad that they were thinking of sending us home (YAY!). Unfortunately, the flooding is so bad that if they let us go we’d all be stuck, so they’ve decided we should stay at work (BOO!).  Apparently, it’s supposed to rain like this until about 11 p.m.  Okay.  When I wore my new pants to work today, I did it to look cute.  Not because they are comfy enough to double as pajamas.  I called my apartment complex, and my area as already begun to flood.  This is not good, as I live on the first floor and my doorstep backs right up to the parking lot.  Apparently, Gordon is gonna have to go get Sophacita tonight.  Okay.  Just got off the phone with Gordon.  His office is shutting down as well.  This is disturbing to me.  All the guys that work in that office (all 5 guys) drive F-150s.  Damn.  I knew I should have left my snorkel in the trunk.

Posted by amy t. @ 02:48 PM in • Imitation of Life ·

fcuk me? No--fcuk you!

Hoorah for french connection! That about sums up my weekend.  Had a good night on Friday.  Gordon took great care to see that I got drunk and forgot all about my job situation.  Had an early night (as is becoming more and more our usual) at the bar and a good time at home.  We made out.  I mean, “hey, we’re in junior high and my mom’s in the next room” made out.  It was great.  I forgot how fun it was to do that.  As you get older, making out usually leads to other stuff.  It was fun to just kiss.  I love kissing.  When I am alone or if Gordon is out of town, that is what I miss.  You can always get yourself off, but you’d have a hard time smooching yourself. 

So it turned out to be a great Friday night.  Followed, of course by a fabulous fcuking day.  Sarah and I went to the Galleria.  This is a trip I try to only make once every few years.  The parking lot is crowded (dangerous for others with road-ragers like me behind the wheel) and it’s hard to find anything because there is so much stuff to distract you.  Like Sarah I spent loads of money.  I got “houston’s first fcuk” for myself, along with “cheeky fcuk”.  I took care of Best Friend’s Christmas present as well ("fcuk fashion").  I also bought a birthday present for my favorite Cranky Barman.  All the bartenders at Local Pub give my boyfriend and his workmates a hard time about being sheep shaggers.  Well, Cranky Barman is part Scottish, so I got him a “fcuk ewe” shirt with a sheep’s head on it.  I giggle every time I think about it.  We also got some freebies.  I got a sample of men’s cologne for Gordon and a cool door hangy sign that says “fcuk in progress” on one side and “free to fcuk” on the other.  My fave freebie is a perfume stick.  It looks like a big glue stick and it’s got a little shimmer to it.  I hate perfume--it never smells right on me--but this stuff smells awesome.  If I hadn’t been in half a coma this morning, I would have even worn some to work.  And that’s saying a lot, because I really don’t put too much effort into my work look.

In other news…

Posted by amy t. @ 09:04 AM in • Debauchery ·

Friday, November 14, 2003

Oops she did it again

So she did it again.  She has ruined my perfectly good, warm fuzzy filled Friday.  I’m speaking of course, of Boss’ Wife.  Being the good little wifey, she came in for approximately 40 minutes this morning.  Rough life, huh?  And she proceeded to hit me with the only thing she could have to ruin my day.  She reached her well-manicured hand in and shredded a bit of my soul.  She brought me to tears and filled me with an overwhelming desire to get drunk, eat chocolate, and watch sad movies.  She forced me to go out and eat a big greasy cheeseburger and fries for lunch.  How?  Because, as Sarah said, she is “such a small woman with such a small amount of tact.” I’m sure you’re wondering what this small, mean, insensitive woman said to me.

Posted by amy t. @ 03:47 PM in • For The Money ·

Friday, Payday, Rantday

Let me begin with a disclaimer:  While I will reference several sites in the post, none of them will be linked, because I don’t know how to do that yet.  Baby steps.

First off, Friday.  Hoorah!  I so heart Fridays.  Jeans and comfy shoes.  What else could you ask for?  And today I have resurrected one of my all time favorite shirts.  It doesn’t look special.  It’s just a big black longsleeve shirt.  There’s a stripe down the arm and around the collar that has smaller stripes of white, red, and orange.  It’s special for two reasons.  First off, (for the Buffy fans out there) it’s also the Xander shirt.  He’s wearing my (well, you know what I mean) shirt in the opening credits for the first few seasons.  Am I cool or what?  Mostly it’s special to me because it was given to me by a boy I loved. 

His name was Paul.  I met him when I was a junior in high school.  He was a freshman, new to H-town from snowy Minnesota.  I had an instant, hard-core crush on him.  We hung out.  He got me into one of my favorite bands (Ben Folds Five).  He knew I was crazy about him, but he didn’t feel the same way.  He was one of those rare people that that kind of stuff doesn’t have to be akward with.  We just went on--business as usual.  He finally started liking me back--right before I went to college, and right before he moved to Colorado.  I did talk to him once since then.  That was during my senior year of college.  He seriously had to track me down for that.  I guess that means he thinks of me as often as I think of him.  I miss him.  So every time I put on this giant shirt that was once his and is now mine, I smile and get the warm fuzzies.

Extra added bonus for this Friday: Payday.  That’s right.  Give me some money!  This is good timing, as I think I depleted my supply of cash earlier this week.  Especially since I’ve been going e-bay crazy this week.  (Do you know the way to use e-bay? Millions of people do--so how ‘bout you?) I found out this week that I now make enough money to ensure that my dad need not co-sign my lease with me!  WOOHOOOOOO! And, I just found out that my mutual funds are doing really well.  I know that’s really boring, but I have about 4K more than I thought I did in the mutual fund prison that my dad holds the keys to.  I also just discovered how to buy Christmas presents for my family and friends without having to ask my folks for money.  Problem with being perpetually poor: “Um, Mom?  Can I have some money so I can buy you a present?” I don’t think so.  And now…

Rantday.  This really won’t be a rant, more like a really loud thought in my head.  Sarah and I were talking about a Jessica Lynch post on Jamie’s site yesterday.  I won’t even go into my opinions about Jessica, women in the military, or her PR campaign.  We were also talking about the “Pussification of American Men” article discussed on Helen’s site.  Afterwards, Sarah pointed out that she hates that pussy means coward and balls means courageous.  I began to ponder this.  Shouldn’t it be the opposite?  I mean, if we’re gonna equate genitalia with bravery, shouldn’t the woman equal courage?  We brave bloating, cramps, and monthly bleeding.  If men had someplace that started secreting blood, they’d think they were dying.  We brave childbirth, breastfeeding, and the effects of menopause.  What do men brave?  An occassional kick in the balls?  Please. 

And on a completely unrelated topic… Let’s talk about the new Dido song.  In addition to the fact (as Sarah pointed out) that she sings from the back of her throat, I just realized that she says “I will not put my hands up and surrender.” I thought, for a long time, that she said “I will not poke my eyes out and surrender.” I know you’re laughing, but listen to it the next time it’s on.  I still think that “Machine Head” by Bush sounds like he says “Got a mushy head”.  Oh well.  I am now done ranting about my own stupidity.

ps I hear Sarah’s in a great mood.  You should read her site if you haven’t already. (Big Evil Grin!)

Posted by amy t. @ 11:07 AM in • The Friday Files ·

Wednesday, November 12, 2003

and suddenly the grass was brown

Yay!  I had no more drama last night.  Just a nice, lay on the couch night.  I went to the store and bought more first aid supplies and then just watched tv.  I was even smart enough to buy frozen pizza for dinner, so I didn’t have to handle any sharp objects.  I did make sure I was extra careful with the pot holder though.  Didn’t want any burns.  Had a hard time reaching Gordon, but finally spoke with him and he’ll be home today.  Hopefully, this is gonna be a better day than yesterday.  Hopefully I won’t try to strangle Boss’ Wife today.

So tell me if I’m right here.  I was unemployed for 6 months.  My former company closed down.  I got two weeks notice and nothing else.  No severence, no paid vacation time, nothing.  For six months I was completely unemployed.  Luckily, I have (occassionally) great parents.  They were giving me my salary every month.  After six months of trying to find the perfect job, I found any job.  My first retail job.  At Things Remembered, part time.  Now, going from 25K a year to $5.50 an hour, 20 hours a week--not so good.  My parents continued to make up the difference and I continued looking for work.  I eventually got a job at Dillard’s (Death To Dillard’s!) in the cosmetic department.  I was finally making enough to cover most of my expenses.  I hated every moment of it.  When I finally got my current job, I was so excited.  It had been 17 months since I’d worked in an office.  I didn’t stop smiling for about 3 weeks.  Even now, when people ask me about my job I am happy to tell them all about it.  Boss’ Wife knows this history.  She also knows that I am going to re-sign my lease this week.  So here’s what she said…
Note: Numbers have been (obviously) fictionalized.

Boss:  So, how much did we make last month?
Boss’ Wife: We made $80.
Boss (laughing): So we only need to make $4,000 next month?
Me (also laughing): Yup.
Boss’ Wife (looking at me): I don’t know what you’re laughing about, if we don’t do better you’ll be out of a job soon.

Bitch.  I mean, who says that to someone?  I nearly reached across the table and Go-Go-Gadget Pimp Slapped her.  Easy for you to say, in your big fancy 8,000 square foot house in the country, when you own a very big, expensive, and profitable ranch in South Texas.  When your leisure time is spent buying Louis Vitton luggage and Coach purses and tennis shoes.  Easy for you to say when you’re not even on the payroll, you just come in because you have nothing better to do.  Just you wait.  You better hope you’re never sitting where I’m sitting. 

I don’t think you could handle it.

Posted by amy t. @ 09:18 AM in • For The Money ·

Tuesday, November 11, 2003

i knew exactly how she felt

So, here’s the something else that happened last night.  I connected with my tv.  I know that sounds lame, but… I was watching Everwood (for seriously only the second time).  I don’t really know much about this show, except that it takes place in a place called Everwood.  There was a plot about a girl on the show who’s about 16.  She leaves for school one morning and ends up in the next state.  She steals a perscription form from her doctor and fights with her parents.  Ironically, her name was Amy.  It was as if a bucket of cold water had hit me in the face.

Get some popcorn and settle in.  This is gonna be a long one.

Posted by amy t. @ 02:57 PM in • Evaporated ·

Spilled My Coffee, Broke My Shoelace

You know that song by Fuel, “Bad Day”?  Yeah, theme song.  My headache did finally subside yesterday.  After a quick smoke and some laying on the couch, I felt better.  Unfortunately, the worst was yet to come.  I gave Gordon a call and woke him up (payback’s a bitch, right?).  I finally dragged my fat ass off the couch and bought some smokes.  And then, it happened.  While preparing my tasty dinner of Chef Boyardee psghetti and fake meat balls, I sliced my finger open with the top of the can.  And it was a whopper.  From the center of my right, middle finger’s pad all the way up to where the whites of my nails would start (I’m a nail biter, so I don’t actually have whites on my nails).  It was bleeding.  A lot.  So I did what any wimpy girl (who’s boyfriend is out of town) would do—I called my mother.  Yeah, that’s right.  I called my mommy.  I’m such a brat. 

Now, I am the queen of the medicine kit.  I’ve always got some kind of weird ailment, and I have drugs of all sorts.  Nothing fun, like pain killers, wait, strike that, I do have hydrocodone.  I’ve got pills for stuffy noses, runny noses, headaches, migraines, pms, allergies, cough syrups galore, sore throat meds, and even some meds to take care of our more delicate circumstances.  Unfortunately, I do not have one inch of space in my whole life devoted to injury.  It’s always illness with me. 

So.  Here I am in my pjs, sans bra, with wet hair, and (of course) the bastard can lid (covered in cold psghetti goo) fell out of my hand and landed smack in the middle of my shirt.  My finger is bleeding profusely, and I don’t even have a bandage.  Much less Neosporin.  So it was off to the quickie mart at 10:30 on a Monday night looking like I just crawled out of a cardboard box on some downtown street.  And as if my humiliation wasn’t bad enough, their was a HOT guy behind me at the quickie mart and all I had to pay with was a roll of quarters.  Just call me white trash.

Something else happened last night as well, but as it was unrelated to this post of humiliation, I’ll save it for later today.

Posted by amy t. @ 09:17 AM in • Imitation of Life ·

Monday, November 10, 2003

Mistress Mary Quite Contrary

Unlike my lovable friend Sarah, I do not think this is a nice day.  This day hates me.  So did last night.  I took a half a valium last night.  I still couldn’t fall asleep.  Once I did finally fall asleep, Gordon called me and woke me up.  It was my own damn fault.  He went out of town last night and I told him to call me when he got there.  I knew it would be 1ish.  Stupid me.  Once I woke up, I had a hard time getting back to sleep.  Finally, after being in a sweet drug-induced sleep for what seemed only 15 minutes, the alarm started going off.  Arg.

I arrived at work to find that Boss’ Wife was already here.  That never happens.  It knocked my whole day off right as I walked in the door.  Then, the headache started.  I have taken 6 extra-strenth Tylenol while at work today.  My head is still throbbing.  I can hardly stand to have my eyes open.  I know this kind of headache.  Soon the pain will be so bad I’ll get nauseous.  I only hope that will wait until I’m lying on my couch in my pjs. 

And just as an extra added bonus to by badness, I had to sort through credit card statements, order forms, and invoices (DEATH to the makers of QuickBooks!) all day.  My brain hurts in every way.  I just want to go home, lay down and drown myself in pointless, brainless sitcoms. 

So honey, how was your day?

Posted by amy t. @ 04:37 PM in • For The Money ·

Saturday, November 08, 2003

will i ever be drunk again?

Okay.  Now I know you should never look a gift horse in the mouth, but… I’m getting tired of only drinking as much as my horse wants me to drink.  I mean, I love Gordon.  And he takes good care of me.  He does have the occassional drunken asshole moments, in which he says something mean, unappropriate or something that just plain should be thought and not spoken.  But these moments are few and far between, and lord knows I have my share of them as well. 

So I feel really guilty (well, not really guilty, but kinda) about bitching about the amount of free drinks I get.  I go to the pub whenever Gordon wants to go, because it is sacrilege to turn down free liquor.  Last Saturday, on Donut’s last Saturday night, I was on my way to a healthy buzz when Gordon decided he needed to go home.  As I have no money, I really had no choice but to leave as well.  This is a decision I regret, as I missed a fun night of drunken debauchery with Donut.  Forgive the alliteration.  Twice this week we went pubbing after work.  I had two drinks each time.  So last night, I left work with a great bubble of happiness in me.  Gordon and I were actually gonna stay at my house (which we never do) and I was gonna get sloppy and sappy. 

It started well enough.  My favorite bartender (we’ll call him Sports Fan) was working a double.  YAY!!! The perfect gin-free Long Island.  I had two.  Two Goldschlaggers.  And a 1/2 a screwdriver.  I was well on my way to being the new Sauza Tequilla commercial. Lost:  Inhibitions.  Then…

Posted by amy t. @ 09:35 AM in • Debauchery ·

Friday, November 07, 2003

I'm not in right now...

Good god, I am so ready for a drink.  As seems to be typical at my work, the last few hours of today have been dragging on like a South Bend winter.  I was actually busy for most of the day.  I’m never really busy.  But today I feel as if I actually earned my pay.  It’s a good feeling.

Okay, I pose a question.  If you call a business, and no one answers, what do you do? 

I usually leave a message (if there is voicemail) or I wait a few minutes (about 10) and try again.  I do not think I am abnormal in this practice.  However, here at AO (my work, abbreviated for simplicity and anonymity) people can’t wait 10 minutes and won’t leave a message.  Today, while I was at lunch, in nine minutes I missed 16 phone calls from the same number.  Later, I had to run to my car for something.  I couldn’t have been gone more than 10 minutes.  Over the course of 6 of those minutes, the same person called me 14 times.  Of course, this was not the same person as the first 16 missed calls.  I mean, come on people.  Get a grip.  You see, life will go on if you don’t order your free catalog for another half hour, or even if you can’t order it until (gasp) Monday. 

And so I end my first week of blogging with this thought:

Leave a message at the fucking beep.  It’s not hard.

Posted by amy t. @ 04:47 PM in • For The Money · (0) Trackbacks ·

steakandbeer

Well, I did it.  Last night was steak night at Local Pub.  I did not have the stomach pyrotechnics this week like I did last week.  I simply refused to waste another tasty steak.  I went, I ate, I conquered.  Perhaps this week I survived because I did not eat a big beefy lunch like last week.  Perhaps it’s because this week, in three hours at LP I only had 2 beers.  Beer.  I drank beer.  I never drink beer anymore.  I drank just enough to make me sleepy.  Gordon had 10 Guinness.  I knew it was time to go home when he could no longer remember if he was stripes or spots.  I had to tell him--everytime he was up to shoot.  But it was cool.  We had our steak and beer, went home, watched Finding Nemo and fell into blissful sleep. 

So now, here I am.  Well rested (for once) and ecstatic it’s Friday.  I love Fridays.  On Fridays, Gordon takes Sophie back to my place (She can’t stay alone at his place, but that will be another entry) which means I get to sleep for an extra 30 whole minutes! On Fridays, I get to wear jeans. Today it’s my blue jeans and a plain gray shirt that just screams “LOOK!  I HAVE BIG TATAS!” On Fridays, I know my boss will leave early--if he even comes in at all.  On Fridays, I know there will be a big, gin-free Long Island Iced Tea waiting for me at the pub when I get there.  I love Fridays.  They rox0r.

Posted by amy t. @ 08:59 AM in • The Friday Files ·

Thursday, November 06, 2003

I'm sorry, are you a cheap date?

Okay.  I just went out with “That Guy”.  You know the one.  The one that takes you to a nice restaurant, enthralls you with titilating conversation, asks for the check, and then…

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I seem to have forgotten my wallet.”

WHAT!?!?!?!?!?

Oh well.  I paid.  It’s actually no big deal.  We’ll go out again.  Why you ask?  Because “that guy” was sarah.

Posted by amy t. @ 12:51 PM in • Stick By 'Em, Stuck With 'Em ·