Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Is it Hot in Here Or is it Just Me?

Yeah, no--it WAS hot. & smokey. Because my brother and I installed our dryer and so set off a chain reaction that invetitably ended with the fire department coming into our place and tearing out a large chunk of our wall.
Because the wall's interior was on fire.

Yeah, there's a whole guy hanging from our cieling, putting out fire. Apparently, if we hadn't caught it just about when we did, we would have set the entirity of building seven on fire by way of the fire spreading quietly through the building's attic; which has no sprinklers or fire detetors.

I had to move with my dad for a week while the space was being repaired.
Fortunately, the cause of the fire seems to be faulty wiring and therefore my brother and I (and our insurance company) are NOT liable.

I came back last night & the whole thing was kind of surreal for me; it was like I'd never lived here.
I tossed and turned for awhile that night...I think my bed might be covered in fiber glass dust.

But anyway, I didn't have access to the internet. So if you're wondering why I wasn't writing or responding to the random stalker hate mail on my last post, it's because I was away from the computer.

But I'm back now & all is well.

I hope you guys are okay, too. :)


Saturday, August 21, 2010

Evil Exes Everywhere...A Narrative

[That title so awesomely alliterates, it's beyond amazing.]
But any who;

I sometimes feel like the past has a very strange way of creeping up into my present.
Let me get something out of the way before I continue; sometimes, when Mr. Flintstone feels like it, he can be an utter tool. There, I said it. It doesn't mean I love him any less--I've Never loved anyone (un-related) so much in my entire life. The thing about Mr. Flintstone being a tool is that he's my tool. So it makes it okay.

I'll just jump into the story now.

So a particularly embarrassing blast from my past stopped off in San Antonio for an interview. Our back story was:
Once upon a time, I was a miserable person. (Once upon a time=Sophomore year of college) I had this terrible boyfriend I wanted to dump but couldn't. Terrible boyfriend was always cheating which had the adverse affect of making me want to stay with him because I felt like I had something to prove. I met really cool class friend (present day blast from my past) in a cool class. We had a lot in common and despite the fact that I was miserable, he tolerated me and did everything he could to make me happy. Really Cool Class Friend helped me kick Terrible Boyfriend to the curb.
He was now Terrible Ex-Boyfriend. & He lived up to that very title.
Did I mention Really Cool Class Friend had a drinking problem? No?
Well, Really Cool Class Friend had a drinking problem.
--> A severe one for someone who was barely 20.
With Terrible Boyfriend out of the way, Really Cool Class Friend and I became more than friends.
So then he was my Really Cool Class More-Than-Friend.
But Terrible Boyfriend had a special power of getting into my head by flaunting his new super skeezes in my face.
Jealousy and Pride were my weaknesses. Inevitably, I took back Terrible Boyfriend.
That left me in an awkward position with Really Cool Class Used-to-be-More Than Friend.
Because, you know, I still had to see him in class.
& our class was going to Spring Break in London together.
There were non-refundable tickets and reservations involved.

Really Cool Class Used-to-be More Than Friend was hurt by my actions.
He turned to alcohol to help ease this hurt.
When Really Cool Class Used-to-be More Than Friend drank, he became something else entirely.
Like the transformation that occurs when Dr. Bruce Banner gets angry...You won't like him when he's angry.
[Because he becomes The Hulk] But anyway,
Really Cool Class Used-to-be More Than Friend got really trashed one night and became Drunk Monster.

Drunk Monster called me multiple times that evening and left messages on my voicemail calling me racial slurs and threatening to kill me.
& even though Drunk Monster was the culprit and Really Cool Class Used-to-be More Than Friend didn't really remember it, I was hurt and scared.
So he became Really Cool Class Not Friends Anymore.

It took two years for me to realize that, at that time, I was not even myself.
I was actually this terrible person, a terrible person I'd like to call Super Sulk.
Super Sulk did a lot of stupid, selfish, jealousy-induced things & was a masochist.
Super Sulk wanted to destroy me and only leave behind a sad shell of a person.

[& she would have succeeded, too, if I'd never been arrested and realized how truly miserable I was as Super Sulk...story for another day, perhaps.]

So when I realized how reckless I'd been with Really Cool Class Not Friends Anymore's feelings, I sent him an email to apologize. True to his nature, Really Cool Class Not Friends Anymore was really cool about it. And he went back to being Really Cool Class Friend.

Then he came to San Antonio for a job interview and invited me out.
I didn't have plans to look cute but as our meeting time drew nearer, I found myself doing my makeup and putting on heels...(and pants because my legs weren't shaved and there wasn't enough time).
& I realized Really Cool Class Friend was now a Blast from my Past.
& I wanted to impress him with my dazzling good looks and nice manners (and also, my un-athleticism which I proudly displayed during a game of 301 darts).

The bar across the street from my apartment was closed early because it was a weekday, so Blast from my Past took me to a bar close to the UTSA campus.
Walking into the bar, who should be the first person I see?
It was none other than Hot Asian Girl from Killeen! *Dun Dun Dun*

[Note: This is the part where me mentioning Mr. Flintstone's toolish ways comes into play.]

Once upon a time, Mr. Flintstone flirted online with Hot Asian Girl from Killeen.
When I confronted him about being a tool, he said
a) Hot Asian Girl from Killeen was a friend from Church
b) Neither he nor Hot Asian Girl from Killeen had feelings for eachother
c) He was proving a point because I (allegedly) was guilty of flirting online, as well.

& I took his word because the flirting was actually more like conversation & I probably was flirting online without thinking much of it.

But anyway, I still couldn't help but feel like Hot Asian Girl from Killeen and I were about to interface and a little versus sign would manifest between us.-->We didn't. It didn't.

This caused me to realize how small the world is.
In Central Texas.

During my Super Sulk days, I also dated a villain I like to call, Chubby Wannabe from New Jersey.
Chubby Wannabe from New Jersey liked to tell me that he was out of my league because he was so much wiser and sophisticated at 25 than I was 19. <--which was precisely how old we were when we flung.
When Super Sulk realized that even in her present misery, she was (or would grow up to be) better than anything Chubby Wannabe from New Jersey would ever deserve, she dropped him like it was hot.
Chubby Wannabe from New Jersey continued pursuing me after that because boys only want toys they can't play with.
Chubby Wannabe from New Jersey also had a girlfriend briefly who I saw at Law School Orientation.
Apparently, she's going to be a member of my graduating class at the same school.
But not in my same section, phew.
I smiled at Chubby Wannabe from New Jersey's ex-girlfriend when we made awkward eye-contact.
She did not respond correspondingly.

& I realized Chubby Wannabe from New Jersey's ex-girlfriend probably saw us squaring off with a versus sign manifesting between us (maybe not exactly, I dunno whether she's seen Scott Pilgrim yet, or if she has whether she's super cool like me & has Scott Pilgrim based daydreams).

I think, even if we're not evil, per se, we all might be someone's evil ex and consequently, considered a threat to our past lover's current lovers.

Hot Asian Girl from Killeen probably did nothing wrong, she's probably even a nice girl.
<--But I still don't like her.

Anyway, I guess that's my point.
When I started writing this post, I had a whole other direction I intended to take this but now we've gotten miserably off course...

Friday, August 13, 2010

I Still Itch

After moving in together, my brother and I were confronted by the fact that we now owned two of everything. Which things to keep and which to put into our patio storage area was a fairly simple to question to answer. With regards to trash cans, we kept his and put mine out on the patio, seeing as how it was covered in Shakespeare pee.
However, we soon found that Ray's old trash can was too narrow for all of our garbage needs and opted to switch the two out. A couple of nights before, Ray and a friend sat out on our patio balcony drinking beer and eating the entire can of my chocolate covered pecans (that last detail wasn't necessary but I'm still bitter about it) and used the outside trash can to dispose of the empty bottles.
I discovered this fact as I wiped off crystallized Shakespeare urine from the sides of the can. I then proceeded to drag it into the house and attempt to tip the trash can over and dump all of the beer bottles into a garbage bag on the floor.
I miserably failed and as I picked bottles off the floor, I saw a bug scurry under the oven.
"Raymin; I let a bug into the house!"
"What kind of bug?" my brother asked walking into the kitchen.
"Just a bug. I didn't get a really good look at it but it wasn't a spider."

& honestly, I didn't get a good look at it. I saw it was shiny, black, oblong.
Later, as I got ready to shower, I saw something scuttle across the white tile. It, apparently, sensed me too because it took off and ran into my bedroom. I saw it go under my bed.
In the light of my bedroom, what I once thought was black was now visibly just dark brown. Reddish brown as a matter of fact. I got closer; a cockroach.
My skin crawled. I let a cockroach into the apartment and it was in my room. Hiding under my bed.

Fortunately, I was able to catch and squash it.

However, even after disposing of the flattened remains, I couldn't help but feel like if I looked under my comforter, my mattress would be covered in cockroaches.

Or worse, the irrational got the best of me and I imagined this was hiding in my closet

That's the monster from the 1997 film, Mimic.

All this time later, after searching and coming up empty, I'm fairly certain there are no other cockroaches in the apartment. But everytime I think about it, I itch.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Bunnies & I; Possibly Enemies

Ring Ring
Roya: Hello?
Me (sobbing hysterically): Roya, she's dead!!!
Roya: OmyGod. Who?
Me--more incoherent babbling/sobbing.
Me: Hunnie Bunnie! I came home and her face was torn off. Please don't be mad at me!
Roya: Is that all? Okay, don't worry about it, we'll take care of it when I get home. Just relax.

& that was the time my old ex-boyfriend's pitbull ripped the face off of my sorority sister's pet rabbit. That day in question, I came home before everyone else and it was raining. I checked the bunny's kitchen cage & it wasn't there so I went into the backyard. The pitbull, Max, came running inside and I went to look for the rabbit. When I finally found her, she was laying in a puddle, sans face and with a broken neck.
No one was to blame. Max probably just wanted to play & didn't understand that he'd killed her. Either way, I couldn't help but feel like this was about to ruin my friendship.

& it almost did.

For one, Roya's complete disinterest in the matter freaked me the fuck out. When she came home that night, I told her I'd put Hunnie in a shoebox and left it on the patio table. I asked her if she wanted me to wait for her to bury it.
"Oh yeah, cool. Yeah, wait for me, I guess. I should be there."

It was the summer of 2007 & it was fucking hot as the devil's balls if he were wearing leather pants. Needless to say, the bunny remains started to cook and congeal in the heat. Not to mention the smell of decay wafting into my living room. [On a side note, it seems like I spend a lot of time writing about smells that have, at one point or another, invaded my living area...]

The bunny remains sat there for about 6 days before I decided to take matters into my own hands and bury Hunnie Bunnie in the back left corner of my backyard.  Roya came up to me a week after then and said she was ready to bury Hunnie and if I wanted to help.

"Roya, it's been 13 days since Hunnie died, I had to bury her. She was starting to reak."

"What? You burried her without telling me?"

"Yeah, and you didn't even notice till an entire week later."

And that was among the last times we ever spoke of Hunnie the late Bunny.

The first time my heart was ever broken, a bunny was the cause.
I was in the third grade and my rabbit, Gizmo, kicked the bucket. I had never known anything that died before and I took it really hard; for weeks on end, I spent hours in the shower crying and singing Micheal Jackson's You Are Not Alone.

Gizmo, short for Gizymoto, was the first pet that was ever mine. I got to pick him at the pet store when I was four and name him all by myself (the name came from my favorite movie at the time, Gremlin). My parents bought him for me in Germany and he survived till we moved to Texas five years later. I'm fairly certain he only passed because it was just too fucking hot here by comparison to the cooler weather in Germany and California.

In retrospect, Gizmo was actually kind of a dick. He didn't like to be held, he was always hiding and making me chase him around the back yard, always eating through cables & cords, and once he even bit me and drew blood.


Finally, there is Roger Rabbit.

When we were little, my brother had this Roger Rabbit stuffed animal. I envied him and covetted that animal. Sometimes, when Ray was out skateboarding, I'd go into his room and take Roger Rabbit. Roger Rabbit was the source of a lot of tension in our family for the better part of a decade. As a matter of fact, I only gave Roger Rabbit back with the promise not to take him or ask for him back when my brother got ready to leave for college.

And also, the movie Donnie Darko...I never understood it.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Hindsight is a Biotch

If I could go back I would've done things differently.

I would've treated you differently.

I wouldn't have written that trash about you.

I would've called.

I would've called you out on your shit.

I would've been honest.
More honest.

I would've made you that much more of a priority.

I would've picked more fights instead of trying to act like I didn't care.

I look back now & see everything I could've done differently; everything I should have done differently.

I just hope it's not too late.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Just Say No

Hello, Reader(s)...
{If any one is still reading after that ridiculously long hiatus.}

I wasn't writing because I was homeless...kinda. I hadn't moved into my new place & was drifting between places until I could move into my new place. For some reason, I hate blogging on other people's computers--it's like wearing some one else's underwear.

But anyway

A couple of weeks ago, packers came to my place in College Station to pack and move my stuff. My mom also showed up to help. There's two older gentlemen who show up and the man packing my kitchen has one gold tooth with a dice cut out on his cuspid. I'm looking at his teeth & he catches me staring. The only recovery I could think of that fast was, "Oh--you're name's Charles? That's my favorite name! I was reading your name tag & Not staring at your teeth." The guy, Charles, smiles and keeps working without saying anything. My mom is really old school and chivalrous so around noon she sent me to pick up lunch for everybody. On my way out, I stop and say to Charles, "Hey, I'm going to pick up some burgers. What do you want on yours?"
"A regular cheeseburger will do. How much do I owe you?"
"No, nothing. I've got it. It's just to say thanks for all the help."

& then I went & picked up lunch. I come home, hand out everybody's food and sit down with mine. Chummy Charles comes in and says to me, "So since you bought me lunch, can I buy you dinner?"

Reader(s), I have a confession to make. I suck at telling people no. I have to duck those guys at the mall who sell flat irons and manicure kits because if I even make eye contact, I end up walking away with some stupid crushed diamond nail file and a little less dignity.

So my natural response is "uuuuuhhh...sure."

Charles grins from eye to eye and walks back into my garage. At which point I run into my bedroom where my mom is taking down curtains and say, "Mom. I fucked up. I told the packing man he could take me out tonight. Please help me."

& all my mom can do is say, "Aww, well just be honest."

"Why didn't I think of that?" & so I walked back into the living room. Charles is crossing through with a box full of my study supplies and says, "so I checked the wrap-sheet and I believe yours is the number listed. So I can call you tonight."

I nervously laugh and go to the back yard. I text my friend Chad, "Please come over and pretend to be my boyfriend. I think I just set a date with the moving guy."

Chad: "Girls lie for the dumbest reasons. Just tell the truth. I'm at work. But hey, you really set a date? Where's he taking you?"

Me: "You're an ass hole & I hate you. Thanks for the advice."

The day drew to a close, Charles is climbing into the truck and says, "I'll call you later so we can meet up."
All I said was, "Oh, okay." And my fingers were crossed hoping he would forget or chicken out or die...

Well yeah, that finger crossing mumbo-jumbo didn't work. He started calling me at 8 and called 3 more times until I answered at 8:45.
Charles: "Hey, Lauren? It's Charles I'm going to the bar soon and was hoping I could pick you up."
Me: "Umm...I don't actually feel well. I think I'm kinda tired from all the moving. I'm just gonna stay in tonight but thanks."
Charles: "Oh, alright then. Talk later."

And we hung up. I was just beginning to rest easy when my phone rang again.

Charles: "Well, I'm heading up to Dallas in the morning so I wont be here and you're moving. I really think we should get together tonight."
Me: Sigh "Okay, Charles. The thing is...the thing is, I don't really feel like going out tonight. But also, I'm seeing someone and also, I didn't really wanna hang out with you, I just didn't know how to say no. I didn't want to hurt your feelings."
Charles: "Oh, okay."

It was better when I told the truth, as much as I didn't want to, and it definitely would've been easier if I'd just said no to begin with instead of spending the night cringing everytime the phone rang.

And that is what I learned from moving. The end.

Honesty is the way, kids. Honesty is the way.

Oh & about the picture I attached to this post; ALWAYS say YES to Limon Cho--it makes the night that much more interesting...