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Friday, November 30, 2012

Weekly Blog Fail: Date Review, My Quarter Life Crisis and Anxiety Around the Holidays

I got the flu and couldn't do anything all week...

So, you got no blogs. My bad. I don't care. So, let's just go ahead and have a nice mishmash of crap that happened this past week. Most of it is nothing because I had to flu and I'm useless to the world when I am ill.

Let's start with my date from last Sunday since that is technically this week. I decided to go out with the Outback Steakhouse Punk'd guy who I wrote about last week. I know I wrote a really mean blog but he is really nice and he asked me out to play mini golf and I LOVE MINI GOLF, so I was totally down. We actually had a really fun time but I'm not sure I can take him out of the friend zone. He's a bit nerdy and slightly socially awkward in a funny way. Think, Big Bang Theory...but I really just don't see that working long term for me. He is actually also not as overweight (from his photos) as I originally suspected. Must've just been the clothing...I don't know. Anyways, I was wrong to say that because he's not fat at all and he is a gentleman that I like. I do believe we will go out again. He seems interested to dive into my emotional basket case too...I can't deny a man that.

Next up, I got the flu. Eh. I got some Christmas shopping done as well. And then I realized its almost December and my birthday is in two weeks. And in two weeks, I will be 25 years old. This has once again sent me into an emotional tail spin which I have been holding off, but with the stress of the holidays (and therefore, 2 long weeks in coldddd Chicago) as well as getting the flu and a number of career stresses, it kind of snowballed into a huge mess last night. Tears, depression, the whole shabang.

The main source of this stress the weight loss. Its obviously very trying on both the body and the brain to stay on track and all that jazz. Beyond that, my mind is all screwy about it. The more compliments I get on how I look and the more that guys notice me when I'm out, the WORSE I feel about myself. I know that this is not normal and not how its suppose to be, but it is. So, I'm dealing with it.

Lastly, I head home just after my birthday for two weeks. If you know me personally, then you know my family is interesting (loving but...interesting) and the holidays always fester up a bunch of issues I never really resolved with my father and the feelings of being a loner as I'm the only adult in my extended family who is not coupled off. Awesome being single during Christmas. If that's not enough, my friends who are engaged or are about to become engaged are now really ramping up their "we're a couple and let's chat about us and our wedding" conversations now that its the holiday season. This is obviously bittersweet as I am happy my friends are happy but sad that I am also not 100% happy.


Clearly, I'm still sick and crabby and a sour patch kid. Mini 70 calorie taco cups tomorrow. 

Monday, November 26, 2012

Manic Mondays: The best presents are the worst to part with

I'm a really great girlfriend and I give really great gifts...

But when we break up, I take it all back because a man's emotional connection to an electronic item is far greater than his connection to a woman, I swear. 

A week or so ago, I wrote about a friend of mine who tossed her boyfriend's ipod in the trees after their break up. This week, I figured I'd share my own story of silliness in taking back a gift that I gave to a boyfriend. 

I was reminded of this story because I had a super vivid dream about College Ex Boyfriend over the weekend, so I shared that with him via Facebook chat yesterday evening and we chatted and caught up. We're actually on fairly good terms most of the time, although there are still issues lurking behind the facade of everything is a'ok and we broke up like 4 years ago. 

Side tangent--- College Ex Boyfriend said that every time he runs into someone from AU, they mention my blog AND HOW GREAT IT IS and ask how he feels about it. He's a very good sport and I've been fairly cordial to him in the blog because he is a good human with a good heart. Sometimes I miss him a lot. We have history. I'm not wrecking that. Anyways, the point of this paragraph is... a.) WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE READING AND GOSSIPING? b.) I love you all so much for gossiping about my blog. It warms my cold, black, single heart. 

Back to the story. College Ex Boyfriend and I lived together the summer before we broke up. We also celebrated our 2 year anniversary during the summer and I bought him ("us") a 47 inch flat screen TV. While flat screens are now like 50 cents at WalMart, back in 2007, they were still pretty much considered a luxury...and a very expensive one at that. I have always been one to spoil my boyfriends. This wasn't the first big gift I bought College Ex Boyfriend--- the year before I stood in line in negative temperatures on Black Friday to get him the newly released Playstation 3 (oh, and yes, I let him keep that after the break up). 

The TV drama started the minute I bought it. When BestBuy was loading it into the car, they managed to lock my keys into the car with my cell phone, so I was standing there, in the parking lot in Arlington, VA, with no keys and no phone. I was already in rush because I had to pick up College Ex Boyfriend at work and I was already running late. Long story short, it was a really traumatic day because my phone died and College Ex Boyfriend was stranded at work...ladedah...he got a damn TV at the end of the day and all was well.

So, fast forward to the fall when we break up....and by break up, I mean, have the most heart breaking, horrendous, public fall out of all time. My friends commonly refer to it as the break up heard round the world. Soon after, College Ex Boyfriend started dating some freshman and THAT was absolutely unacceptable in my eyes. Lots of things were said, tears cried, ice cream consumed. After that, I got mad. Really mad.

Because I couldn't think of anything better to do than get even, I started plotting all the ways that I could show him I've moved on too. I got a new boyfriend. I got a new car. I put the happy face and my highest high heels on. Lastly, I decided I was taking back the TV...something so very, very near and dear to his heart.

I showed up at like 7am on a Saturday morning at the townhouse we had shared and insisted he not only give it back, but also load the heavy biotch into the back of my new convertible, top down of course.

Man, I've never seen such heart break, lettme tellya. Just further proof that men need tangible material items way more than woman, justttt saying.

I still have the TV. I doubt I would've ever bought myself a flat screen and honestly, the TV has been good to me. Its gone back and forth to DC twice, stayed a couple of years in Chicago and now it lives nicely on my dresser in Phoenix. The remote control did get lost in transit to Phoenix, but other than that, its been living a long life. 

Poor College Ex Boyfriend. At least I let him keep the PS3. Smashing that would've been tres fun.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

WTF Weekend: Thanksgiving Edition

WTF Weekend: Thanksgiving Edition

I very much apologize for the lack of blogging this weekend, but I over committed myself to social activities with my real life friends, and sometimes I have to give them attention too.

I had every intention of blogging Wednesday night for WTF Wednesday based on my Black Wednesday party going experience, but then I had nothing to do Wednesday night so I didn't want to seem like a loser, but then I actually ended up having a totally WTF night that lead into WTF Thanksgiving morning at 10:30am when I waltzed into my apartment with my stilettos one hand and the other one holding my aching head. I'm not an adult.

I've actually never really gone out for Black Wednesday before. I've heard that its now one of the biggest party nights of the year, when everyone is in town for the holidays and you go to your local bar and see all your old frienemies from high school. Lucky for me, I did not end up at Durty Nellie's in Palatine, Illinois with the rest of Fremd High School that I've lost complete touch with since I both went to college on one coast and then hastily moved to the other coast after college. Not that it would've been interesting...but yeah..um...anyways. I can't even.

So BFF Tiff was out of town with her boyfriend for the weekend, so I was down a partner in crime and still writhing in anguish over last Friday's very poor life decisions (which I couldn't even blog out) and in the gym at like 8pm Wednesday night, because hell, if I'm going to suck, I'm going to look skinny doing it.

My good buddy, Mike, who is like my fratty, 1%er older brother (and my only platonic male friend in Phoenix), called me up and asked if I wanted to go out with him and his work friend, Casey (who is a dude, yeah, I asked that immediately too). Mike is also writhing, but he's in the wake of a bad break up, which I totally feel for, so it was big thing for him to want to go out, so OBVIOUSLY I couldn't say no. Anyways, we met up at Sandbar, which is just across the street from where I live, which is perfect since Black Wednesday is DUI central and Arizona has mandatory jail time for DUIs. Bottom line, walking is good.

We get there. Packed, of course. I'm with two fairly good looking, intimately muscular men. Clearly, no men come up to speak to me since chances are, one of them is my boyfriend. I'm also in huge heels, so no girls come up to them since the 6'4 Amazon woman with big boobs and big heels is looming around them. This is clearly not a well thought out plan.

Anyways, luckily we kind of all got into a big group convo with some dude who was a personal trainer and a couple where the dude plays semi pro soccer and some other randos. Guys start coming up to me to chat here and there.

Dude #1 was a really short guy named Mike. He explains he wanted to speak with me all night but my boyfriends are very scary looking. He asks for my number, but explains he won't call me until December because his phone is currently turned off because he didn't pay the bill because he's on unemployment. He is also very touchy feely and I'm frightened. My guy friends stand and laugh at my discomfort with the midget trying to rest his head in my chestal region. I spend the rest of the night running away from Mike.

Some more randoms...etc. More drinks. Now, we're all drunk. The entire bar.

Dude #whatever comes up to me and introduces himself as Patrick. He informs me that he and all of his friends have been checking me out and that I'm what they call a "breeder". I nearly punch him. He explains its a big compliment because I'm tall and hot and if I made babies with Patrick, I'd be popping out D1 linebackers. I'm less than impressed by this commentary on my looks. Men are idiots.

Anyways, we close down the bar. Mike and Casey get in a cab and encourage me to also get in and that they'll drop me off at my place so I don't have to walk back alone. What gentleman. Two second later, we're going to opposite way back to Casey's condo and not my place. Mike is swearing all woman are whores and nobody will take me back to my place. It is now 2:30am. I'm over it, I'll sleep on the couch, whatever.

Meanwhile, my girl Lacie calls me and let's me know she's stuck at a house party and stranded and can't get a cab. Because Mike and Casey are scheezy assholes, they of course want her to come right over. Mike calls her SEVEN cabs, SEVEN, not even an exaggeration. He is a man dedicated to his cause.

Anyways, by 3:30am, Lacie and I are sitting on the floor in Casey's tshirt and sweatpants drinking beer and hanging out. At 6:30am, we have all had our fill of the party and finally go to bed. Fast forward 5 hours and I waltz into my apartment.


1.) One rolex watch left in my purse by an unknown suspect (????)
2.) Lung cancer due to second hand smoke at Sandbar
3.) An appreciation for seasoned salt on popcorn
4.) A new love of vodka, club soda and 2 limes
5.) Some smoochies from Mike's friend, Casey who is cute when he's not speaking
6.) Six phone numbers listed in my phone as Sandbar #1-#6 only, no names

1.) 8 solid hours of sleep
2.) The ability to eat my ass off at Thanksgiving due to a hangover
3.) Most of my dignity and half my self respect

Based on my Gained/Lost List, this night was actually a big WIN. Kudos, Black Wednesday, until we meet again next year.

Happy Holidays, Y'all! I hope you, too, started your holiday season off right.

P.S. I will have tons of great material for next week because I had a jammed packed last week of dates. I manged to pull out THREE, yes, THREE more dates after the Outback Steakhouse incident, including one with the Outback Steakhouse guy and I feel like I may have to take that post down because he actually isn't that fat after all. 

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Tuesday Date Review: I Got Punk'd at Outback Steakhouse

I Got Punk'd at Outback Steakhouse

Well, it finally happened. We all know I've been going on dates with various dudes from Match.com for months now, and while they weren't stellar by any means, no one has ever really NOT looking anything like their photos which is clearly a common problem in online (or so I hear). 

As we learned from yet ANOTHER riveting episode of Catfish last night, no one online is actually who they say they are and they certainly don't use real photos of themselves. I'm one of the rare breed who uses currently photos and doesn't lie about my job, my life, my family, my anything. I even own up to my crazy blog. 

Anyways, this guy didn't like totally lie. It wasn't like I thought he was a male model and he was actually a 50 year old 350 pound man eating 3 racks of ribs at Outback Steakhouse. But, well, he certainly didn't look anything like his photos.

In fact, I was standing right in front of him and didn't recognize him until he was like, OH HEY NIKKI. Ughhh.....

In his photos, he's a very fit 27 year old hottie who is super active and pretty muscular and toned. In real life, hes a 27 year old decent looking guy who's probably put on 50-60 pounds since those photos. I get it, I got fat at some point, but I was real about it. I have ALWAYS used current photos. DID YOU THINK I WAS NOT GOING TO NOTICE???

Anyways, we had a nice date during the Bears game, in which they basically made me cry with their absolutely shitastic game against the 49ers. We had a couple drinks and dinner. He paid. Very nice dude. He even had a coup for a free bloomin' onion. I appreciate a man who can use a coupon.

BUT WHY LIE IN THE PHOTOS? WHY? Had he just posted current photos, I still would've gone on a date with him, but now I feel deceived and disappointed by what I got. I should probably stop being so shallow, but I just don't understand it.

I wanted to say something about it, but I held my tongue. He didn't seem to notice that I couldn't recognize him or the mixed look of horror and shock when I did finally recognize him.

I  might get over it. I might not. But let's be real, I got punk'd on an online date for the first time, and sadly, probably not the last time.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Manic Monday: Someone Else is a Psycho Ex Girlfriend too.

Someone Else is a Psycho Ex Girlfriend too.

So, sometimes I really think I'm the psycho ex girlfriend to end all times. And I'm not convinced that isn't true yet, but while I was trying to come up with another of my psycho moments, I was reminded of a good friend of mine's story of her break up.

My friend and her college boyfriend were kind of a similar story to me and College Ex Boyfriend. They were together from the start of college, living together and shared many mutual friends. At the end of their relationship, they were just nit picking at each other and it just wouldn't end. 

The main complaint she had about him was that he was an aspiring rock star. They went to school in a pretty small town in bufu Illinois where there are like 4 bars and 2 restaurants. His band played regularly at these small bars, therefore he believed that he could one day be really famous. Dream are nice, but lezbereal here...not going to happen.

One fateful night at the bar, she and he got in a big fight about his life's ambition in front of all his friends and such. This led to him shouting, "WE'RE OVER" and storming out. Well, the previous Christmas, she had bought his an ipod that was permanently attached to his hip, so in her infinite wisdom, she stormed after him, demanding he give the ipod back immediately. Taking material items from a dude in the midst of a break up is the most painful thing you can do to a dude, its true. Men don't relate well to the emotions break ups bring, but tearing a cherished material item, that is something they will feel pain for.

It doesn't end there. Oh no. He gives up the ipod begrudgingly and what does she do? SHE THROWS IT UP IN A TREE. Oh yeah. Oh yeah. NOW NO ONE CAN ENJOY IT.

She went back the next day. It was gone. C'est la vie. 

I hope you have a good little chuckle over this. I sure did while reliving it. 

My friend may kill me when she reads this.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Thursday Date Review: Great guy...One problem.

I don't know his name.

These things ONLY happen to me.

Okay, let's start at the beginning. This guy and I started talking on Match.com at the beginning of October, but I was out of town and he was out of town and I was in Hawaii and he was in LA, so on and so forth-- we kept crossing paths. But for the past month, we've exchanged texts and such. In the mean time, I forgot his name.

I tried everything. Google, reverse number search, job title search. Fuck you, Match.com, for deleting my older messages with him that CONTAINED his first name. So rude.

You might ask why its not saved in my phone. If you know me personally, I have a thing about saving numbers, especially the numbers of guys I am dating or am planning to date. I never put them into my contacts because I believe it jinx'es the entire dating cycle. So, rest assure, if you're a dude and we recently met or I put your number directly into my contact upon meeting, I have certainly freind-zoned you forever.

Anyways, moving on, I didn't save the number. I forgot his name in the month between messaging on Match.com and actually meeting. FULLY AWARE THAT I AM A MORON.

Despite all this, I decided to meet him for dinner last night at the Vig Uptown which is a pretty trendy place in Phoenix. This guy is pretty cute, went to Dartmouth, masters degree from USC, good job in public administration and just closed on his first home. He's 32, super cute and successful. His parents met at the University of Chicago when they were doing their Masters degrees...they're like the original Obama's. 

Anyways, we had a great date. He asked me out again for Friday. I said yes. Still don't know his name.

So, last night, I recruited my blogger bestie, Andrea, to call his cell phone in the middle of the night (since she works nights as a famous celebrity production assistant in LA) and listen to his voice mail which would hopefully feature his name front and center. Unfortunately, HE ANSWERED AT 3:30AM....and my plot was foiled. Fuckkkkk.

Only me. This only happens to me. Any ideas on how to fix this ridiculousness before Friday without looking like the hot, hot mess I am?

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

WTF Wednesdays: Help Me with My Very Own Catfish Campaign

Help Me with My Very Own Catfish Campaign

So, this week has just been frickin' blag. No Manic Monday, whatever, I know, I suck. Anyways, my brain has been total mush this week with work and working out and the significantly cooler Arizona weather which has lead me to wearing Uggs and a bikini to walk to the hot tub in my complex. Its a great look. I just got home from grocery shopping (and I went without a bra on, because it was just that kind of frickin' day. I am now a people of Walmart. Whatevs.) Now, I want to throw up WTF Wednesday before I can slack off tomorrow.

So, MTV has a new reality show. Its called Catfish and its based off the weirdo documentary that follows a NYC photographer who falls in love with some girl online who turns out to be some crazy middle aged woman who fabricated multiple Facebooks and family members and such to trick him. Its really bizarre and highly recommended if you haven't seen. Anyways, the dude who got fooled in the movie now hosts the Catfish show on MTV where he unites people who are in online relationships.

In the first episode, this cute little blonde girl named Sunny from Arkansas is in an 8 month relationship with this male model, Chelsea Handler production assistant online boyfriend. SHOCKINGLY, he isn't actually who he said he is. He is actually an 18 year old lesbian girl living in Tennessee. Sunny goes ape shit on her and basically does everything but burns down her country bumpkin shack she lives in. Next week's episode promises to unite 2 exotic dancers who have fallen in love online. I just can't wait.

In the mean time, I have my own Catfish campaign I need help with. Everyone needs to take a moment to think back to 2003, which AOL still existed, screen names were really important and chat room culture was alive and well. A/S/L/pic, anyone?

In those days, before I had a legitimate reason to be dating anyone, I had an online boyfriend. His screen name was Slapshot99999999. He was a year older than me. Hockey player. SUPER HOT and from Missouri. We talked on and off for the better of 7 years before AOL became extinct and we lost touch somewhere towards the end of high school when I had a REAL boyfriend and being an online pen pal was no longer fun.

So, I want to find him. Amy and I spent the better part of this morning trying to track him down on the internet and still haven't located a photo of him. However, I do remember his full name and according to our creepy Google searches, he is indeed a legitimate person. There's lots of old high school records and newer association records of him playing on hockey teams in Missouri as well, so I believe he's not an 18 year old lesbian girl in Tennessee.

Now, I need your help to find him. This is what I know:

Name: Jeff Cedra
Age: 26
Location: Hazelwood, Missouri
High School: Hazelwood West
Occupation: EMT??? (this is a bit fuzzy but some Google digging presents this might be true)
Former email address: Slapshot99999999@aol.com (no longer exists)

I also believe that I have found his twitter account, which is

I tried to tweet to him today and got no reply. So, I'm encouraging all of you to start tweeting him with my handle (@ndillz) and #CatfishCampaign and maybe even send the link to this blog to him.

Its not like I want to rekindle a romance, I just want to know what the hell he's doing these days and maybe make all my Catfish dreams come true. Who knows what could happen, but let's make it werk.

Please comment if you decide to help in any way and let me know.


Saturday, November 10, 2012

Saturday Date Review: I lost 60 pounds for dating experiences like this (sarcasm)

I'm going to keep going on shitty Match.com dates until I get back the same value in dinners and drinks as I spent on my damn membership.

 So, last night I pulled out a last minute date for reverse happy hour at TGI Friday's with this guy named Troy from Match.com. He's mid 30's, middle management, kinda slick lookin' dude. Just my type. He also didn't ask me for a nude photo and made a specific plan on a specific date and time without cancelling or changing it 7 bazillion times. Its shocking, but true. 

Anyways, I got a bar table at Friday's about 15 minutes before Troy and I were suppose to meet up, so I could get a drink and take the edge off a little bit. I ordered my drink and when the waitress comes back, she said, "Oh, and that guy over there bought your drink for you!". I look over and she's pointing at a guy who is, no joke, a quadriplegic. I'm really not trying to being insensitive or an asshole here, but seriously, these things only happen to me. Needless to say, I walked over and said thank you, made polite chitchat, wrote my number on a napkin (like, its only polite right?) and went back to my drink. 

So, Troy shows up and I tell him about my free drink and he legit spends the rest of the night staring the guy down like I'm his wifey or something. Weird. I was like, is this joke? You're seriously going to stare down this poor dude for buying me a drink. Awkward.

Troy was fine. He's actually really hot, with blonde hair, tan skin and blue eyes. Very ken doll looking and a little reminiscent of College Ex Boyfriend. However, he was kind of rude to the waitress. Like she would walk by and he would shout "HEY YOU" then order another drink. I was like...really? Being a former TGI Friday's waitress myself, that shit is really annoying. 

Then, he opened a menu and ordered a flatbread. He didn't ask if I wanted anything or like, for input on what he was ordering. Then his stupid flat bread came and he didn't even offer me any. What the hell. I didn't want any anyways. Fuckin' carbs.

Then we made for out like 10 minutes and that was nice. He was clearly pretty into me. Maybe we'll go out again. 

So, this whole night was super charming. I lost a ton of weight and now I have guys buying me drinks, I can't really complain about that. However, I guess now I need to be more specific with exactly WHO I am interested in. The following convo with Amy pretty much sums up my night:

 I'm going to hell in a hand basket. Confirmed.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Single Girl on the Go Recipes: Crock Pot Beef and Broccoli

 True Life: I'm Addicted to My Roommate's Crock Pot

I hear that its almost winter in the majority of the world except for Arizona which is still hitting the high 80's on a daily basis. Regardless of this, I have recently become obsessed with the winter cooking tool known as the Crock Pot. I love it. I make everything in it. I spent hours finding recipes on Pinterest so I can crock pot even more.

Also, in my never ending quest to find meals under 400 calories, this does the trick. With a small portion of brown rice and a healthy portion of beef and broccoli, you don't even NEED Chinese take out any more. Enjoy!

You need:

  • 1 lb. boneless, beef chuck roast, sliced into thin strips
  • 1 cup beef consumme or beef broth
  • 1/2 cup low sodium soy sauce
  • 1/3 cup dark brown sugar
  • 1 tbsp. sesame oil
  • 3 garlic cloves, minced
  • 2 tbsp. cornstarch
  • 4 tbsp. sauce (from the crockpot after dish is cooked)
  • Frozen broccoli florets (as many as desired, I believe I used almost 2 cups)
  • Brown rice, cooked
First, in the insert of the crock pot, whisk together beef consume, soy sauce, dark brown sugar, sesame oil, and garlic. Gently place your slices of beef in the liquid and toss to coat. Then, turn crock pot on low and cook for 6 hours. When done, in a small bowl, whisk together cornstarch and cooking liquid to create a slurry and pour into crock pot, stir to mix well. Cook on low for an additional 30 minutes to thicken up the sauce. Finally, toss in your broccoli florets then serve hot over brown rice.

Just one note about cooking time: Your crock pot may differ in temperature than mine, so I suggest cooking this for 4 hours on your first go-round of this dish. 6 hours in the crock pot seems to be giving a lot of people “shredded” beef instead of slices, so decrease cooking time by 2 hours and go from there. Mine turned out fine with 6 hours.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

WTF Wednesday: Top 10 Hawaii Moments

I can't even believe some of the shit that happen on my Hawaii trip...and oh...it happened. WTF.

In all seriousness, my trip to Hawaii was absolutely amazing. So amazing that it took me yesterday AND today to compile my Top 10 WTF Moments of the trip. So, I apologize for the one day delay but I realized Hawaii was wayyyy more WTF Wednesday than it was whatever no topic Tuesday is. It deserves more than Tuesday. So, without further ado, my top 10 Hawaii vacation moments.

1.) There was a huge tsunami randomly approaching Hawaii without any warning on our first night.

Kyle and I had just arrived home from the liquor store after dinner on our first night in Hawaii when I received a text message from Lacie that said "ARE YOU OKAY??? TSUNAMI HITTING HAWAII!!!". We, of course, laughed and I replied, "Um, that's a hurricane on the East Coast". Then we turned on CNN and moment after, the Tsunami sirens started blaring outside on the beach boardwalk. We pour our first drinks.

I feel like these sort of things only happen to me. So, we're a bit terrified since the local news is calling for an evacuation of the Waikiki beach area and are FILMING DIRECTLY OUTSIDE OF OUR HOTEL, saying that they are standing in the central evacuation zone. We pour our second drinks.

I call the front desk and they're like, "Oh, you're on the 9th floor, you're fine as long as you're above the 4th floor". Um. That does not sound reassuring. We pour our third drinks.

By this time, we're convinced the world is ending. Kyle's dad has called everyone on earth and send everyone on the mainland into a panic. The time the tsunami is suppose to hit comes and goes. We are intoxicated. If we're going to die, we're going to die drunk and happy.

The tsunami passed up Waikiki Beach. Nothing happened. FYI. We're still alive.

2.) Kyle is a nudist and a sex addict...in a way that I admire.

For those of you who don't know Kyle, we've been friends since early high school. He's a firefighter/EMT in Chicago and despite a very impressive muscular physique, he's probably only like 5'7 and 140 pounds. Oh and he eats like 9000 calories a day. Tell me how that is fair. Anyways, the point is, Kyle is the shit. He's offensive and kind of mean and very vain, all in a very good way. For these reasons, we are good friends.

Kyle also loves being naked. He was naked 114% of the time we were inside of the hotel room and probably some small percentage outside of the hotel room, but I block that from my memories. Good thing that Kyle is like...my brother, so it certainly doesn't bother me. I could be peeing and he could be brushing his teeth all in the same bathroom and I could care less. We're tight that way.

Also, do you know what Grindr is? Welp, I didn't. Now I do. Kyle loves it. I certainly encourage you to explore all of its uses.

3.) "Are you peeling the wall paper?"

After we came in from a night out drinking, Kyle and I were both in bed with the lights out. All of a sudden, I hear crinkling and rustling. Munch. Munch. Kyle is always hungry, so I wasn't entirely too surprised to hear this noise. I lean over and say, "Are you peeling the wall paper?" Kyle bashfully replies, "I'm eating Reese's Pieces...don't worry about it".  WHAT? WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET REESE'S PIECES? He didn't even share. So rude.

4.) We are the prettiest people in the bar.

On Halloween, Kyle and I drank about a gallon of booze each, which led to a very miserable next day and I may never drink again as a result of that. There are so many parts of this evening, I don't even know where to start. 

In the morning, Kyle and I tried to find Halloween costumes. We figured we could slap on some cat ears and dress sexy, a la Mean Girls, and be done with it. APPARENTLY SEXY KITTIES ARE THE ABSOLUTELY MOST POPULAR COSTUME IN ALL OF HAWAII, because there were no cat ears anywhere. So, we went for plan B which was to rip the sheets off our beds and make togas. Because I am a sorority girl, I am well versed in sexy toga making. Here was the result:

Waikiki Beach actually is the third largest party spot for Halloween in the country, so we were lucky to be right in the center of the action. All night, everyone was stopping us, asking to take our photos. Once, 20 minutes went by without this happening and we were so confused why no one was recognizing us as the celebrities we were that we did a few laps around the bar (AND COUNTER CLOCK WISE) until we once again stumbled, literally, into fame.

Did I mention we're both incredibly vain? The above photo was taken at the end of the night right after Kyle spilled my drink on feet, assaulted my mouth and then we both fell off of the ledge I'm sitting on, leading to us leaving the bar before we were kicked out. Classic.

5.) Skydiving on the North Shore

We went skydiving over the North Shore of Oahu, right one the coast. Yep, jumped out of another plane at 15,000 feet. Kyle nearly shit himself. It was a great day.

6.) That time we rented a piece of shit, go kart looking Jeep.

Kyle and I are both commitment-phobes. We knew what we wanted to see but all of the tours are SO FRICKIN LONG. Seriously, a Pearl Harbor tour was like...9 hours. WHAT DO YOU DO FOR NINE HOURS? Stupid. So, we got the idea to rent a car and drive to Pearl Harbor and the North Shore on our own so we could move at our own pace. After calling a few rental places, we found a place called VIP Rentals where we could rent a car at a reasonable price. We walk on over there and the place is LITERALLY a tent on the side of an alley. Classy. Of course, the car they told us the price for was a 5-speed and neither of us can drive that, so they agreed to give us a Jeep Wrangler. 

This Jeep was seriously 15 years old, no top, no locks, a hole in the floor, ghetto fabulous. The radio only got reception like 3% of the time. Since we were renting it for 1 day, we said what the hell and went for it. We jump on the highway and the car LITERALLY only goes 45 miles per hour. We're being passed up by 1981 rusted out Honda Civics.

On the North Shore, the highway is only one lane each way. We single-handedly caused a traffic jam going up hill because we just couldn't go any faster. We did get home in one piece, but barely. Thank God Kyle was driving because I would've gotten frustrated and drove off a cliff.

7.) I stepped on a piece of candy.

Kyle and I went out on Sunday night because we felt we really needed to have a few drinks to celebrate our survival of the tsunami that didn't actually hit us. So, we started the night at Rumfire, which is a swanky bar that you'll hear about later on in the list, followed by a stop at Hula's which is a popular gay bar in Waikiki. After a few drinks, we were stumbling the half a block back to our hotel when Kyle spots a Reeses' Peanut Butter Cup on the sidewalk. Second after, I accidentally stomp on it, crushing it. Kyle shrieks, "YOU STEPPED ON THE CANDY", in a shrill and whiney voice, over and over, until we get to the hotel room. Seriously? Were you going to eat it? We had a good laugh about it, for aboutttttt an hour, until Kyle told me the story of how two mutual friends of ours gave him a BJ in the back of a car sometime while we were in high school. I couldn't stop both vomiting and laughing.

8.) That time we got naked on the beach.

When we drove up to the North Shore in our POS Jeep rental, we stopped at a few totally pristine, local beaches. There are no restaurants or anything around these beaches, so they are totally gorgeous and isolated from tourists. If I had to watch one more fat tourist go apeshit at Subway over the cost of a foot long in Hawaii, I would absolutely freak out. There was also only one shanty bathroom about half a mile from the beach that was overun by homeless looking locals...so we opted to change clothes right on the beach. Nobody looked. Nobody cared. It was done. The beaches are that pristine and isolated that you can. How about that for natural beauty?

9.) We got chased out of a Gay mixer by an Australian Bogan.

Kyle and I decided to go to this gay mixer that's held once a month at a swanky hotel bar called Rum Fire in the Sheraton, right on Waikiki Beach. We waltz in and buy entirely too expensive drinks which makes us grumpy. Because Kyle and I are judgey, we took a seat to take in the scenery. We're literally sitting on the barrier between gays and straights. On our left, there's a bunch of middle aged couples sitting in wicker chairs frowning and on our right, there's several dozen gay men bumpin' and grindin' to Madonna blaring from the DJ booth. Man, I really should reconsider my sexuality if that's what the future looks like.

After a while, this creepy bogan (by American standard, a redneck) Aussie dude starts talking to us. He's missed teeth. Kyle introduces himself as Ben. Anyways, this Aussie guy goes to get a drink and tells us he'll be right back with us. Being kind of tipsy and rude, we bolt as soon as we can. He sees us and starts CHASING us down these winding hallways of the Sheraton. We're dying trying to run and laugh simultaneously. I can't even.

10.) The French Fry Incident.

Its no secret than I've been dieting and working out like crazy to loose weight I put on post college and then some. Kyle is a great person to go on vacation with because he works out everyday religiously (and dragged my ass with him) and eats fairly healthy, so all week I was really proud of myself for making good choices to stay on track. 

On Halloween, as I mentioned, we drank a lot. More than a lot. En route home, after we fell off the ledge at the bar and tumbled down a flight of stairs and stole a cigarette, we tried to get pizza at the Wolfgang Puck Express, which was long closed for the night. While Kyle assaulted the doors trying to break in and make pizza, we saw McDonald's take out in someone's hands...and so it began. The journey 3 blocks to McDonald's.

I haven't eaten McDonald's in like...8 months. Kyle probably hasn't in a year. But we attacked a large order of fries and nuggets. Attacked. I'm not joking. We had to ration the fries out 2 by 2 because neither of us could be trusted to share.

In the morning, I woke up with fries in my bed. And I ate them. Then I went back to my hangover coma until 2am. Shameful. Shameful. Shameful.

We referred to McDonald's as the scene of the crime for the rest of the week. 


So, that's that. My favorite parts of the trip. So much crazy I don't know what to do with, but hell, I'm glad I went. It was a great week :)

Monday, November 5, 2012

Manic Mondays SPECIAL: Tales of a Psycho Ex Boyfriend

If you didn't know, I have the worst taste in men. Ever.

So, its been a long, lonely week without me. I know. Its been really hard. But, its okay, I promise, I'm back now from an absolutely amazing week in Hawaii. I'm certainly going to give a run down of my top 10 Hawaii moments on my blog tomorrow, but I wanted to share a very, very special and highly disturbing SPECIAL edition of Manic Monday....Tales of a Psycho Ex Boyfriend. For once, I'm not the damn crazy one. Its shocking...but its true.

So, back in high school, I met my first love. His name was Matt and he was a huge, rich jack ass who treated me like garbage among other horrendous things he subjected me to over the two years we were together. While I do believe he was a good person at heart, he was very seriously fucked up, mainly due to a father he watched beat the shit out of his mother and a family who gave up on him. I'm fairly certain he was bipolar and unmedicated, with a huge amount of rage building up inside him. Sometime he took that rage out on me. I was too scared to get away.

Luckily, I went away to college 900 miles away from him and didn't look back...except perhaps a few times where I fell back into his allure of the lifestyles of the rich and famous. I soon met College boyfriend, who mended my tortured heart and kept me away from Matt long enough for us to loose touch completely.

Over the years, Matt harassed me, threatened me, stalked me. He'd leave me voicemails telling me he was coming to DC to kill me, call me all night long from blocked numbers and just laugh. Really creepy shit. I blocked several of his numbers, but he always got a new one.

Why is all of this relevant right now? Because as soon as I turned on my phone upon landing in Phoenix, I had dozens of texts from one of the number I thought I had blocked, but perhaps I didn't? Anyways, nothing mean or threatening, just "Hi", "Do you know who this is?" "Hello" "Talk to me", etc etc.

So, I was freaked out. I got home and immediately googled Matt because I knew there was something odd about why he was contacting me, after we haven't seen each other in about 3 years.

This is what I found:

You'll notice this is his mugshot. And the charges--- well, its certainly no petty crime. I feel terrible for whoever was on the receiving end of this. I suspect it was his long time girlfriend whom he dated after me, as she had told me in the past about how he broke her jaw with a baseball bat. She was an equal nutcase, getting my number from his phone and calling me up. Loonies, all of them.

Anyways, the point is, I am so thankful this wasn't ME. This guy is truly the epitome of a psycho ex boyfriend, far worse than anything cray cray I've ever participated in. Just remember, ladies, love shouldn't be painful and don't let it be. I can't believe I put up with this douchebaggery for as long as I did. Fairly certain he'll be locked up for this, so rest easy for a while.

Still a bit concerned about the texts, but they seemed to have stopped today. C'est la vie. Sleep with one eye open.

Sorry for such a downer blog today, but I had to share. I seriously have the worst taste in men.