Tag Archive: friends


I have been sitting on my ass all day.

It’s a little hard since I have a bruise the size of my palm on my right ass cheek and it hurts really bad.

I’m sure you’re wondering why there’s a giant bruise on my butt. Well, dear readers, today is your lucky day.  I’ll tell you.

Last night, there was a mini-bar crawl kind of thing that went down in EL for Sully’s 21st birthday.  Everything was going well, except there were a couple times when I wished I was wearing different shoes.

The first instance was when Seneca and I went to the bathroom.  There was a part of the tile floor missing, creating a little lake of mysterious liquid.  My basically naked foot ended up in said lake.  That’ll teach me to wear flip flops.

Before I tell you the second time I really wished I was wearing different shoes I need to preface it with this question. Have you ever been walking on a wet surface while wearing flip flops? Have you ever had that moment of panic that comes when you feel your feet slide because the wet surface and the poor traction of the flip flop?

I promise that this injury had nothing to do with the level of intoxication. It has everything to do with the fact that flip flops fail in the face of liquid.

When I jumped down from a ledge that I happened to be standing/dancing on, I bit it.

My flip flops hit the water/beer/liquor/mixed drink wet spot and my feet flew out from under me.  There was nothing I could do.  I slid into my brother’s friend, slammed my ass on the ledge and scraped the hell out of my elbow.

I couldn’t decide what hurt more: my pride or my body.

The verdict: my body.

So, this month’s Cosmo finally made it to my house.  You know, the one with Rihanna on the cover.

This one:

I don’t know why I get this magazine because I think most of it is stupid.  I enjoy the celebrity “interviews” and the beauty section, but that’s about it.

Anyway, I found something awesome in this month’s magazine. And it was in neither of the sections I just mentioned.

Cosmopolitan writer Jessica Knoll wrote an article in the You You You section entitled “50 Things You Should Have Never Stopped Doing.”  I saw this and was like I bet I’m awesome enough to not have stopped doing most of this stuff, because I still have my child-like wonder and enthusiasm.  Well, that and the fact that the very first thing on the list was something I definitely still do.  I will share with you now the list (out of 50) of things other people must have stopped doing but shouldn’t have that I still do.

1.)   Listen to the Spice Girls

Uhm, duh.

2.)  Doing the “Beep the Horn” gesture to truck drivers.

If I had my own computer, I could share photographic evidence. Alas, some other time.

3.)  Watching a TV show over the phone with your bestie so you can ZOMG over it together in real time.

Erica and I try to watch Glee and Teen Mom via instant message!

4.)  Driving around aimlessly, listening to John Mayer, and pretending that he’s still the sweet, soulful high school outcast who worships your wonderland body from afar.

5.)  Taking naps- get up early this weekend, run errands, be productive. Then come home and crash on the couch. It’s never going to be as good as it was after class, but at least you’re not snoozing on a futon.

Story. Of. My. Life.

6.)  Making Saturday-night plans on Saturday night.

7.)  Holding your breath when you pass a graveyard.

I did this just last week- NO JOKE.

8.)  Making cookies for the sole purpose of eating the raw batter.

9.)  Designing the cover of a mix CD with a Sharpie.

10.)Flip cup- if you had room for it in your dorm, you have room for it now.

Two weekends ago, Sen and I held it down.

11.) Always having a crush… even if you’re in a relationship… even if he’s the Jersey Shore look-alike at your gym who you would nevah date in real life.

12.)Dressing festively for the Fourth of July (and Valentine’s Day, St. Patty’s Day, etc.)

Hellooooo theme days at work!

13.)Wearing your hair in braided pigtails… guys dig that sort of naughty schoolgirl thing, in case you didn’t know.

I do a lottt of weird, ugly stuff with my hair when I’m doing homework in my room by myself.

14.)Drinking chocolate milk- research found it’s one of the best things you can drink after a workout.

15.)Sleepovers! Cover the living room floor with blankets, pillows, snacks, and since you’re legal now, lot’s of wine.

Long Live the Tripod!

16.)Shopping with Mom… she’s like a living 50-percent-off coupon.

17.)Picking out your outfit- accessories and all- the night before work as if it were the first day of school.

18.)Treating September like it’s the beginning of the year. Buy new office supplies (including cute erasers), and pledge to get an A in memo writing…

19.)Spending all day in bed watching bad Lifetime movies starring Tiffani-Amber Thiessen and Tori Spelling.

Okay, so it’s not even half but some of the shit that lady wrote were things I never did in the first place. Some of it was stupid. Or some of it was stuff that I wish I still did.

What are some of the things you used to do when you were younger that you wish you still did!?

 

I don’t know how to reach you.

I don’t know how to be there for you. I don’t know what to say or how to talk to you.

I know that you’re going through something and that nothing I say or do will make it hurt less.

You’re my best friend and I love you. I love you beyond words and it hurts me that I can’t help you.

Because you’re hurting, I let the fact that you hurt my feelings go.  I didn’t tell you that it hurts me when you don’t tell me these things. I didn’t tell you that I can still hear your voice in my head, replaying that time you told me I’m not good at feelings and that I’m the last person on earth with whom anyone should talk about emotions. I didn’t tell you that hearing about what happened after the fact, after you had already spilled your heart to the other leg of the Tripod, as you do every single time you have any real emotions, I felt sad and left-out.

I don’t tell you these things because, this time, it’s not about me.

You were there for me when I needed you. When I cried countless times because my heart hurt over the complete deterioration of the friendship I had with my so-called best friend, you were there. Even when I repeated myself and when you couldn’t understand how I could be feeling the way I was, you listened. You listened, and you cared, and you showed up when I needed you.

I’m so sorry that you feel I haven’t done the same for you.

I wish you’d talk to me and stop shutting me out.  I wish things didn’t feel so weird. I don’t understand what happened or even how to make it better.

I don’t know what to say.

Sometimes people just need space. Sometimes it just takes time to sort through all of those thoughts and feelings. That’s what I thought I was doing, giving you time and space to feel sad and mend your broken heart.  But it’s been a few days now and I haven’t heard anything and we haven’t talked.  I don’t like how we left things.

I don’t know how to make this better. You know I’m no good with confrontation, not when it’s something like this.  Not when it feels like there’s something as awesome as the Tripod at stake.  Things feel fragile and I can’t see where to step to make a move.

For once, I feel like I don’t know you. I feel like I don’t know how to read you. You feel so far away. I can’t figure out what you’re thinking or try to guess how you’d respond to any of the actions I have almost made.

I just miss you is all. I want things to go back to normal, and I want you to talk to me. I want to be there for you. I want you to tell me that you’re hurting but that our friendship matters.

I don’t know how to reach you.

Since I started blogging, almost a whole year ago, there as not been one day that I have missed.  Every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday, like clockwork, I have showed up and put something out there for someone, anyone, to read.

Yesterday, for the first time in almost a year, I went AWOL.

I just didn’t show up.

So, for you who were waiting with bated breath, I apologize. Similarly, if you were worried I had died or had been sucked up by my chest (please reference Dane Cook) by aliens, I’m glad to inform you I am just fine.

What happened is that I actually just got swept up in the long, holiday weekend and forgot it was Sunday.

In fact, this weekend is a whirlwind of activity.

I showed up to my dad’s house ready for a weekend of drunken debauchery with friends and family by the pool in his backyard. But what actually happened was that I arrived at the restaurant for dinner like an hour later than I had originally told everyone I would be in town. Only, after I arrived, I promptly informed my dad that I felt like I was going to throw up and then I peace’d out.  I went back to the house where I found a bathroom just in time to puke my guts out. After throwing up nothing but water and bile (and oh yeah, those two or three Advil I took on an empty stomach- I’m an idiot), I ate exactly two and a half saltine crackers and fell asleep for an hour. When I woke up, everyone was arriving back home, with the food I had ordered in hand.

After that, Seneca and I went to bed early and watched some Forensic Files.

Saturday was even more of a blur.  The day lasted for-fucking-ever.

In a nutshell, the rest of the weekend happened as follows: I probably caught cancer from this shady-as-fuck restaurant called Hibachi Sushi Buffet (it was not my choice), hit my face against the bottom of the pool,  actually won a couple rounds of flip-cup, my computer died/broke, we ate our weight in pulled pork sandwiches, Megan accidentally dumped her almost-entirely-full drink in my lap at the bar we went to, Drew and I got into a physical altercation, Megan walked out at 2am with no word to Seneca or myself, both Seneca and I ended up in tears at some point, made weird references to Hilary Duff for no reason, saw Hangover II, and when we were alerted of bad weather we played a rousing game of Life where I pretended I found out I’m barren and will never bear children(LOL), we also watched a fuck-ton of Lifetime (yeah, including William & Kate, the movie), I quoted William Shakespeare to Seneca in a normal conversation, and I fell in the lake again tonight while trying to get in the kayak.

WINS ALL AROUND.

I promise things will go back to normal.

So, I was playing with my webcam the other day and I was listening to *NSYNC’s I’ll Be Good For You from the No Strings Attached album.  Out of nowhere, I sneezed.  I watched it back and LOL’d to myself.  And then I singled out the sneeze and LOL’d again.

Then I wanted to just put it on twitter for my dear friend Alecia to see, but then I thought that since I don’t have a lot of time to post today (since the Tripod has reunited again and we have been off doing stupid things), I could just share this hilarity with everyone at once.

For you, I will.

Until my class ends, you’re going to be experiencing really sub-par posts.  I just can’t seem to get a handle on my time-management.  For instance, while I got home today at an hour that allowed for plenty of time to achieve all of the things I needed to complete today, my time management was seriously lacking.

For instance, I meant to go to my gym this morning.  Instead, I slept in until 9:17 am and proceeded to take a thirty minute shower.  Why the hell!? What a waste of water.  And all I did was sing loudly and stand under the hot water until I decided, oh, yeah, maybe I should stop being a life-ruiner and wasting all of this water.   I mean, I didn’t even deep condition my hair, for goodness sake.  Sometimes I justify an excessively long shower by putting on a three-to-five minute conditioning treatment. Or sometimes, I justify it by shaving my legs.  I didn’t do either of those things today. Even though my legs are embarrassingly hairy right now.

Then, because my life is obviously a mess, I went to the doctor’s office to have my blood drawn for another appointment I have next week.  (Nothing major- don’t freak out.) The only thing is, my doctor is an hour away from where I live. Why is that, you might ask? Because I never have my shit together or all my ducks in a row enough to have all of my essential, necessary-for-life things all in one place.  That would be too easy.  So, I listened to Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (OH MY GAWD, IT’S SO GOOD! HOW COULD I NOT HAVE READ THIS BOOK AGAIN SINCE 2004- OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT?!) on CD for, like, 48 minutes because I had a moment of ADD while driving where it was seriously like, zomg I can’t focus on listening right now, I need to sing my face off to some Glee covers right now, in the middle of my trip back to O-Town, but after Pokerface (with the lovely Idina Menzel) I feel I can actively listen to Harry Potter again.

So, then, I panicked in the doctor’s office because I really don’t like needles and blood really freaks me out. (Do we not all remember my bloody nose?!) But, turns out, that procedure takes all of, like, 45 seconds to complete. So I was in and out of that office.

I managed to make it to the library before all 8 or 9 of my items expired and I was hit with some outrageous fees.  I also picked up a few items that were waiting for me (The Office, Season 4; Now that’s what I call Club Hits, and Total Club Hits 2). Before you even ask, I’ll tell you why I wanted some club hits.  It’s because I’ve been trying to perfect my fist-pump so I can rock the clubs like those hooligans from the Jersey Shore.  Bahahaha! No, actually, it’s because those CDs have songs I like that have been remixed to have higher beats per minute.  I’ve been trying to create a kick-ass workout playlist so I don’t want to die when I’m at the gym.

I stopped by the bank after that and transferred some funds for my Study Abroad trip, which I’m so excited for.  Have I told you all about that yet? No? Looks like that will have to come at a later date.

I did have a long, fun lunch with one member of the Tripod, which was glorious. But after that was done, I had to drive another hour back to where I actually live.  I listened to HP the whole way home this time.  I was in a bit of a food coma, so listening was really I was capable of doing anyway.

Next, I wandered around my school trying to locate the stupid Study Abroad office. It is like Narnia or something. I have looked and looked and looked on more than one occasion and I cannot find it.  It is obviously not at all like the Room of Requirement; otherwise it would have appeared to me on one of the few occasions I have been wandering around looking for it.  And don’t tell me to just ask someone, because I totally have.  The yahoos at the information desk either don’t know where it is either or they just don’t know how to effectively communicate to me where the location of the office is.  And the office where I ended up today seemed confounded and didn’t even know where it was or how to explain how to find it to me.  Some lady told me to go to the other end of the building and that Alex’s office was on the left. The left of what?! I walked to the other end of the building and looked like an idiot, wandering around trying to find an office that will not reveal itself to me.

Sucktown, population: me.

Instead, I snuck into my mom’s office, stole one of her envelopes, wrote Alex (the study abroad advisor I have been in contact with) on the envelope along with my name and student number, sealed my first payment check inside and called it good. I told those yahoos at the information desk to just put it in his mailbox.

Then I came home, and that’s where time got away from me.  One minute I was listening to my club hits and then I got a text message about a theme day at work tomorrow, Major League Baseball.  I don’t even know what that means.  I guessed that that meant I should wear something to do with the Detroit Tigers because that’s baseball.  But then I realized I, of course, do not own anything that is Tigers- related, and I won’t just not participate in theme days. I love theme days! So you can bet your bottom dollar I went out and bought a Tigers shirt that was somewhat cute- and it was 25% off to boot!

But, because we live in the middle of BFE, it takes like 40 minutes to get anywhere. So that was a giant waste of time- except for the fact that I got to listen to Harry Potter again so it wasn’t that big of a waste.

I stumbled upon a website called Tastefully Offensive, and that was a giant time-suck.  I just kept watching video after video and giggling to myself on the couch.  I had every intention of editing a group project paper, but that didn’t start until about 8 o’clock, and it was much bigger of a task than I had originally thought. So now, I’m writing this post at the last possible second and it’s all about crap you don’t care about. And my contacts are starting to stick to my eyes and I really just want to be in my bed watching Twilight or The Office or something.

So, yeah.

kaythanksloveyougoodnightbye!

Well. I’ve been sitting here for 51 minutes trying to think of something to say.

I finally came up with this:

This picture is pretty much an excellent way to sum up a night that Megan and I will never forget, and a night that Rob will never remember. Because he was blackout drunk and crawled through East Lansing trying to get home after we decided it was totally fine for him to leave by himself while we hung out with the complete strangers we found.

And by found, I mean that I flagged down some random Escalade, jumped inside and told Rob and Megan it was totally fine and to get the fuck in the car, and GO GO GO!!

Yeah. Really safe.

A complete blur. And shady as fuck.

We had been drunk for a while and looking for something to do in East Lansing after the MSU vs OSU game. (Can I just tell you how much I love game day?! SO MUCH!)  We were hanging out near Harpers when we decided that we should go to my friend’s apartment because she was having people over. We would hang out for a little bit and go to the bars later, because oh, yeah, it was still light out and too early to be as drunk as we were.

The only thing was that we needed a way to get to my friend’s apartment, which was hella far away.  Instead of calling a cab or even trying to call a friend who could drive, I just decided to flag some vehicle down. Like I’m in NYC or something, trying to hail a taxi. Who am I?

So, yeah, I flag down this white Escalade, which is filled with three or four (I can’t remember) guys.  They stopped and, for some reason, let me hop in.  For some reason, Rob and Megan followed after me and away we went to my friend’s apartment.

Talk about poor life choice. And awkward city.

Shenanigans.

Anyway, I can’t remember what happened, like the exact events of the evening. I do remember Rob, Megan and I going into my friend’s bathroom and all three of us peeing in there. At the same time. Not okay.

I also remember one of the boys changing his pants in a parking lot.

And I remember drunk-dialing my dad.

We also went to one of the bars in East Lansing for a while and danced our faces off. That was when we let Rob walk himself home despite the fact that he couldn’t see.

There’s also a memory of Megan peeing outside, in public. Twice.

We also walked all the way back to my apartment and kept Erica up until, like, 7am.  I made two of the boys watch High School Musical because I didn’t want to have sex with either of them.

The best part was that after all of the shenanigans and staying up until 8am with a strange man I had met just by jumping in his vehicle, I had to go to a staff meeting at work.  I showed up, all disheveled and loopy from a lack of sleep and super hungover.

Megan and I always reminisce on the shitshow that night turned out to be.  Generally, I just consider myself on the up and up as long as I’m not hopping in vehicles filled with strange men I don’t know.  And when I’m not pounding 100 proof shots of Captain Morgan.

We also try to embrace the whole no man left behind mentality.

Unless it’s Seneca- we usually let her go wherever she wants.

Or Leah- but that was one time, and had I been aware enough to be a part of the decision, I never would have let her wander East Lansing by herself during St. Patrick’s Day weekend. That was not my fault. And things worked out… kinda. She found her way home eventually.

Dude.

I’m supremely hungover.

I slept until 4 pm today.

Actually, that is kind of a lie.

What really happened was I woke up at 8:30 this morning to pee.  I am fairly certain I was still drunk at this point, as I could not figure out how to execute the tasks of finding the light switch and turning on the bathroom light.  In all fairness, I was in a hotel (so my surroundings were less than familiar) and the light switches were on the wall outside of the bathroom.  I washed my hands in the bathtub (because I thought the sink was still full of ice and all of our liquor- it wasn’t.) and that’s when I found Seneca’s red thong hanging out on the ledge of the bathtub.

I remember thinking that was a little odd.

I crawled back into bed next to Seneca and went back to sleep until about 10 o’clock, when I heard Megan walking around our hotel room and starting to clean stuff up.  It was probably an hour later that we all actually woke up and pulled ourselves together enough to get in the car and go home.

When the girls dropped me off at home, I dropped my crap on my bed, grabbed a sweatshirt and headed back upstairs to plop myself down on the couch, where I had every intention of staying all day long.  I was too hungover to get up and grab a blanket so I used my hooded sweatshirt as a blanket and used a pillow on the couch to cover my feet.  I wished more than anything that I could just use the power of my mind to turn on the fireplace, but that didn’t really work out.  Instead, I watched The Office on DVD and froze my ass off.

I woke up around 2pm when I heard Grandma arrive.  I was drifting in and out of consciousness so I really have no idea what she was talking about, but it was too loud for my taste so I quickly turned the DVD player off, switched the tv to the channel that was playing some basketball, and went to crawl into my mom’s bed.

At about 3pm, I woke again.  Grandma had started vacuuming. I tell you, the woman cannot just sit and do nothing.  Even though my mom constantly tells Grandma not to use our vacuum (because she breaks them????), Grandma doesn’t listen and insists on vacuuming our house. I wanted to knife her, but not that badly because I didn’t expend any energy at all to ask her to stop.

It was about 4pm when I started feeling like I needed to stop procrastinating and do my homework. Only, it felt like death to not be horizontal.

I started my homework at about 7pm, and that shows.  I’m only slightly embarrassed to hand in my case study and I won’t be that mad when I don’t get 100%. I won’t be that mad because last night was fun enough to be worth less than 100% on the piece of shit case study I handed in this evening.

I am, however, a little disappointed in myself because, dude, I cannot drink like I used to.  Not like I could in college.  Growing up sucks.

There is no other day that I wish more than anything that I was still in college than on St. Patrick’s Day.

I mean, most days I wish I was still in college, and I think it’s retarded that we were all dying to graduate when we were already in the part of our lives that truly is the best part. Even more retarded is that I didn’t drag out my time in college longer than the four years I was already there.

I mean, where else is it completely acceptable to literally drink all day?  I don’t just mean day drinking, tailgate style.  I mean waking up and pounding a jello shot or two and head to work only to get out at noon and immediately start drinking to catch up to where everyone else is.

A household divided: pepsi vs coke. What’s your pref??

One very important concept I learned in college is playing catch-up. Don’t do it.  Poor. Life. Choice.

Luckily, I had really good friends who reminded me to slow the fuck down and pace myself. A good friend and roommate who looked out for me and made me pb&j sandwiches (on more occasions than one) so I would have consumed something other than caffeine and alcohol when we started drinking.

Lunch of champions/functioning alcoholics!

It’s not appropriate for me to spend the entire day wasted, take a nap at 6pm and wake up an hour later to continue consuming more alcohol than is recommended by the government.  It’s not appropriate to continually lose misplace my ID and debit card only to find it in a different pair of jeans because I had forgotten I had changed pants at the last minute (I would). It’s not appropriate to drunkenly sext frat boys. Nor is it appropriate to try to steal some poor man’s golden retriever (Erica! Okay, it was mostly me.).

Oh, Mandy…!

It’s not appropriate to disappear for extended periods of time with said frat boy under the guise of “washing my hands.” It didn’t matter that Erica knew I wasn’t washing my hands.  No one washes their hands that often, or for more than 20 seconds. Or for, like, 40 minutes at a time.

Whatever.  I never said I was a good liar.

None of that is appropriate.  Anymore.

Because I’m not in college. Anymore.

Because I’m old.

I hope everyone had a safe and very happy St. Patrick’s Day!

I spent mine lunching with a member of the tripod, shopping for new makeup, hitting up the library, doing homework and now I’m going to a Sugarland Concert!

Not too shabby! 🙂

I was doing some reading today that made me wonder something. Obviously. Since I wonder things like every moment I’m awake.

Here’s where you assume I was reading something reputable, like a book or the New York Times or CNN.com or something else informative. This is the part where you attribute intelligent things to my person.

But, alas, this is the part where I tell you that I was reading nothing of the sort.

I was reading textsfromlastnight.com.

I came across this gem:

(443): and I’m pretty sure he drank the lava lamp

I used to have a lava lamp. I wonder what happened to it?

Upon reading this, I went to my trusty friend, who would never judge me for asking a silly question.

I interrupted our bitch-fest to pose my question.

Me: Is there real lava in lava lamps?

Seneca: Kathryn Grace!

Me: Was that really dumb?

Seneca: How about we just never talk about that ever

Then we had a good laugh.

If I had any sense of pride or shame, I wouldn’t have wanted to share that stroke of genius (?) with you.