So. Last night, I went on the date I agreed to with the locksmith. It was fine. We had a nice time. Until Murphy struck again, that is.
Early on in the evening he admitted to me that some of his tools had been stolen from his car, and one of the tools he needed to get me into my house was included in that. Which is why he had to drill open my door, and why he had to replace my lock, and why I had to pay more than I should have had to pay. Anyways, I wasn't mad, no big deal, it's done and over with so no need to get upset. It was more funny than anything.
To make the evening a bit uncomfortable though, I had eaten lentils that day and my stomach was notttttttt happy with me. Whoa, gas city.
Flashforward to the end of the night. We leave the restaurant and his car is gone. Oh shit. I just know his car has been towed. Immediately. So, I call the numbers on the parking meter, and find out it had in fact been towed due to a snow emergency. It didn't even snow yesterday, but because they PREDICTED snow, they had declared it a snow emergency. Bullshit if you ask me, but whatever.
THREE HOURS LATER we finally rescued his rental vehicle. It was now 2 am, and I was exhausted, and all I really wanted to do was leave him there and go home, but I couldn't because the guilt would set in about him not knowing English that well.
...$250 ticket, $100 tow bill, and $100 dinner, I think we're even on the missing tool.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
TWO posts in one night? The universe hates me.
Okay. So, have I mentioned I hate snow? Because I do.
I went outside tonight to shovel. I didn't put on a coat, or gloves, but had on two pairs of pants and a sweatshirt. I also didn't put on a bra. Trust me, I'm not the kind of girl who can go without a bra and have it not be noticed, but I hadn't had one on all day and I figured it was only gonna take a minute, so why not. Even turned on the oven to make dinner when I came back in, figured it'd be that short.
WRONG. I locked myself out. I had no phone, and no wallet. I thought about begging for money to metro to my old neighborhood and sleep at my old house, but decided to give begging for phone usage a try first. So, I went down to the liquor store. They didn't have a phone book, of course. But they let me use their phone. Normally my mom has my landlords phone number. I don't know why, she's crazy. But, of course, since I just moved, I haven't given her my new landlords number. Of course, I couldn't remember a single freaking number except the guy I'd been seeing up until yesterday, so I had to call him and grovel for help. (after a big blow up fight yesterday in which I yelled "FUCK YOU MAN, don't ever call or text me AGAIN") He somehow got over it enough to look up a locksmith for me, and I gave the 24 hour locksmith a call. They wanted a number, and when I went to ask the liquor store owner, they said "No, we can't let you have this number, we're closing." So, I said "I don't have one, I'll just have to wait at my house" and moseyed back on out into the blizzard. Again, sans coat, gloves, and bra. FOR AN HOUR. I sang 99 bottles of beer on the wall, in english AND in french, I counted, I talked to myself. It was great.
After I could no longer feel my anything below my ankles, or elbows, and especially not my buttcheeks, I sucked up my pride and knocked on my neighbors door. You know, the one that's been playing gospel music all week. Turns out he's a super hot dude, with no pants on. Which goes great with my NO BRA look I've got going on. He lets me in to use his phone, and I end up watching tv for over an hour with him (American Idol). Of course, he was way hot, and super nice, and I looked like an idiot.
Finally, after several more calls to the locksmith, as now some 2.5 hours have gone by, they called me back (on Joshua's phone, of course). "I'll be there in 5-10 minutes." So, I finished watching that particular contestant and went back outside. Another half hour or so later, the locksmith (a very cute fella from Israel) had to drill open the lock, and then replace it. $400 bucks later, I was in my house, thank god no fire, mortified that two very attractive men had now seen my in sweatpants, sweatshirt, and no bra.
All that being said, I got a date out of it. The locksmith asked me out by the end of it, and since I tend to lock myself out a lot, I obviously agreed.
I went outside tonight to shovel. I didn't put on a coat, or gloves, but had on two pairs of pants and a sweatshirt. I also didn't put on a bra. Trust me, I'm not the kind of girl who can go without a bra and have it not be noticed, but I hadn't had one on all day and I figured it was only gonna take a minute, so why not. Even turned on the oven to make dinner when I came back in, figured it'd be that short.
WRONG. I locked myself out. I had no phone, and no wallet. I thought about begging for money to metro to my old neighborhood and sleep at my old house, but decided to give begging for phone usage a try first. So, I went down to the liquor store. They didn't have a phone book, of course. But they let me use their phone. Normally my mom has my landlords phone number. I don't know why, she's crazy. But, of course, since I just moved, I haven't given her my new landlords number. Of course, I couldn't remember a single freaking number except the guy I'd been seeing up until yesterday, so I had to call him and grovel for help. (after a big blow up fight yesterday in which I yelled "FUCK YOU MAN, don't ever call or text me AGAIN") He somehow got over it enough to look up a locksmith for me, and I gave the 24 hour locksmith a call. They wanted a number, and when I went to ask the liquor store owner, they said "No, we can't let you have this number, we're closing." So, I said "I don't have one, I'll just have to wait at my house" and moseyed back on out into the blizzard. Again, sans coat, gloves, and bra. FOR AN HOUR. I sang 99 bottles of beer on the wall, in english AND in french, I counted, I talked to myself. It was great.
After I could no longer feel my anything below my ankles, or elbows, and especially not my buttcheeks, I sucked up my pride and knocked on my neighbors door. You know, the one that's been playing gospel music all week. Turns out he's a super hot dude, with no pants on. Which goes great with my NO BRA look I've got going on. He lets me in to use his phone, and I end up watching tv for over an hour with him (American Idol). Of course, he was way hot, and super nice, and I looked like an idiot.
Finally, after several more calls to the locksmith, as now some 2.5 hours have gone by, they called me back (on Joshua's phone, of course). "I'll be there in 5-10 minutes." So, I finished watching that particular contestant and went back outside. Another half hour or so later, the locksmith (a very cute fella from Israel) had to drill open the lock, and then replace it. $400 bucks later, I was in my house, thank god no fire, mortified that two very attractive men had now seen my in sweatpants, sweatshirt, and no bra.
All that being said, I got a date out of it. The locksmith asked me out by the end of it, and since I tend to lock myself out a lot, I obviously agreed.
facebook for dummies.
Alright, I'm probably going to give away enough details that if you think you know me, you'll know for sure after this post, but if I don't give details it won't be nearly as funny.
Let me just start by saying this. Facebook is a PUBLIC domain. All of your friends, and maybe even people who aren't your friends if you aren't smart enough to set your privacy settings right, can see what you say / post / do. I am TIRED of reading things about your breast milk production, your kids poopy diapers, childbirth, or how your kids balls never dropped so the doctor has to do a search and rescue mission to find them, seeing your stupid tattoos, and hearing your not so smart opinions, or looking at pictures of you with your clothes off. Yes, these are all thing I have ACTUALLY seen on facebook. I know, that just means I should probably take you off of my friends list, but that would mean I wouldn't be able to bitch about said things, or make nasty comments on them.
Flashforward to yesterday. An ex of a dear dear friend posted a picture of a new tattoo. On his stomach. Of a hot dog. And a fountain drink. While, I personally think this is one of those things he's later going to regret, I think it's great if he thinks it's great. But, I couldn't resist the urge to post a snarky comment. So I wrote "I really wish this hot dog had legs and arms, like the hot dog in the 'lets all go the lobby' theme song.". I was quite pleased with myself, and as I was chuckling to myself, I began to choke. On my own laugh. To the point of tears, and coughing and that awful 'what the hell am I even choking on' feeling came over me.
Oh Universe. You won that round.
Let me just start by saying this. Facebook is a PUBLIC domain. All of your friends, and maybe even people who aren't your friends if you aren't smart enough to set your privacy settings right, can see what you say / post / do. I am TIRED of reading things about your breast milk production, your kids poopy diapers, childbirth, or how your kids balls never dropped so the doctor has to do a search and rescue mission to find them, seeing your stupid tattoos, and hearing your not so smart opinions, or looking at pictures of you with your clothes off. Yes, these are all thing I have ACTUALLY seen on facebook. I know, that just means I should probably take you off of my friends list, but that would mean I wouldn't be able to bitch about said things, or make nasty comments on them.
Flashforward to yesterday. An ex of a dear dear friend posted a picture of a new tattoo. On his stomach. Of a hot dog. And a fountain drink. While, I personally think this is one of those things he's later going to regret, I think it's great if he thinks it's great. But, I couldn't resist the urge to post a snarky comment. So I wrote "I really wish this hot dog had legs and arms, like the hot dog in the 'lets all go the lobby' theme song.". I was quite pleased with myself, and as I was chuckling to myself, I began to choke. On my own laugh. To the point of tears, and coughing and that awful 'what the hell am I even choking on' feeling came over me.
Oh Universe. You won that round.
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