officially official

you know your life is either really sad or really awesome when you find yourself at the corner market, counting change to see if you have enough money to purchase a three-pack of condoms and a ninety-nine cent box of kraft macaroni and cheese.

true story.

other sad/supremely awesome things: i just glanced outside to see what was making such a loud noise. apparently its a thing called a lawnmower, and it was being used by JOELORD.* apart from the noise caused by the thing that cuts down the jungle called our front yard, i heard a terrible crunch. i looked down and watched JOELORD fish out a crunched tallboy of olympia in the maze of weeds. welcome to my life.

life. liiiife. its gorgeous, hot outside, i am buzzed and pretty darn happy. money is momentarily UNDER CONTROL. worked a few prime serving shifts, made some moolah, put that shit in the bank, saved a coupla bucks, paid my bills AND had enough to buy a plane ticket to wisconsin for childhood-bestfriend's wedding in june (eeek weddings). suuuperb.

i spent all morning cuddling and making out and et-cet-era with my boyfriend. yes. yes. yes, i just used THAT word. wanna know why? 'cause i'm in a relationship. and we use titles. and i FREAKIN' CHANGED MY STATUS ON MYSPACE. okay, caps not necessary there, but...

backup! last week, in a late night "chat," i asked him what he thought about me. instead of skirting around the issue, i blurted out (once again), what is this? he hmmed and hawed a bunch, but i finally got the answer i was looking for. 'if what you're worried about is commitment, you don't have to be,' he said, looking me straight in the eye. 'i feel one hundred percent committed to you. that's not even an issue for me.' sigh. finally. the words i wanted to hear. i wish it didn't take so long for him to say it. or maybe it just took too long for me to ask it.

but still, no relationship? exclusivity? check. setting aside time for one another? check. commitment? check. but agreeing that we are in a freakin' relationship?? UNCHECKED!!!

so. it had been a busy week of not seeing the boy, both of us busy, working, school, his friend was in town, etc. im not going to lie, i wanted to see him pretty bad. i knew he was busy, but sometimes... well sometimes a girl has her needs! totally unrelated, of course, but after the embarrassing visit to the corner store market where old-grumpy-asian owner smirked at me for buying macaroni and condoms (and yes, the next day i made the same purchase only this time substituting the kraft for a red bull, and asian man full on laughed out loud. im over it), i hit up the PP.* showed them my 'i'm poor and fertile, please help me control the population' card (medical insurance card just for PP), they gave me a year's worth of birth control. i like to play it extra-safe, so i asked for some condoms on the side. the lady looked me up and down over her reading glasses and pushed a brown paper bag into my red face. i thanked her meekly and ran out with a giant purse full of contraceptives. upon reaching the bus stop, i peeked inside the goodies bag. there they were, thirty free condoms of the clinic's choosing. and they were all flavored. FML.

after realizing that they must have sized me up and immediately dug into the slutty stash of condoms, i got over it. free condoms is free condoms! the next few days were a blur of being called in to cover shifts (they know i live two blocks away and am desperate, whatever) and working my tail off. by thursday night, i needed to get out and get my drank on. i sent a quick text to the boy, asking him if he wanted to do karaoke at the crescent. he enthusiastically agreed.

side note. there's this funny test called the myers-brigg personality type indicator. i am OBSESSED with it. it gives you a four-letter result of how you act around others, respond to situations, think, feel, etc. i made the boy take it a while ago. out of sixteen possibilities, we turn out to be the EXACT same type. and it makes sense. we are both socially stretched thin, trying to keep up with EVERYBODY, wear our hearts on our sleeve(s), make decisions based on pure emotion, take in energy from being around others, forgetful, easily distracted, easily hurt, easily insecure, easily forgiving, and flaky to the max. sounds like a recipe for a giant up-and-down roller coaster of emotions, distrust, extreme showing of affection, fights and constant make-up sex?

uh, i mean.

anyways yes. he is ALWAYS late, distracted by friends, forgets to call. and i am the same way. i have just accepted it. i still get cranky. but whatev. so on this particular night, once the boy agreed to go to karaoke with me, i thought, excellent. it will take him three hours to get to capitol hill, so i have three hours to hang out with my other friends at oddfellows.

by 10, i was drinking with susie and, oddly enough, three of our old college guy friends. i hadn't hung out with them since, like, freshmen year. it was fun, but i was eager to convince everyone to get to the crescent. suddenly i got a text. 'at the crescent, where are you?' huh. that was early for him. maybe he actually bypassed the whole getting distracted by friends thing, for once! but then a sequel came through the cell phone airwaves. 'ps. i brought the roommate!'

...

my momentary good mood vanished. the roommate. i knew which one. and i was not happy. so, his roommate. 30. graphic designer. now for the straight up bitchy description. loud. drunk. grossly flirty. attention whore. and worst of all, she seems to know everything there is to know about comic books, movies and art. shit. how can i compete with that?

anyways, it seems like every time we hang out lately, SHE has to come along! movie date with the boy? how nice! he bought tickets! oh, wait, SHE is coming too? hangout at oddfellows? nice! lets get drinks! ...with HER. great. late night movie watching at his house? romantic? no, of course not, because SHE wants to watch movies too, and we have to watch them in HER room? ew. not cool. i dont mind her as a person, but seriously. stop getting drunk and getting all over MY man. bitch. please.

so, thursday night, midnight, i finally get susie plus the old college crew over to the crescent. the boy and his roomie are drunk and having the time of their lives. also, the roomie wants to now leave. but we just got here? i said politely. yeah, but we've been here two hours, she said, turning and walking out the door. i look at the boy for help. he shrugs, looks deeply conflicted, and then walks out after his roommate. i am pissed. more than pissed. i know they are just going up the street to another bar, but he just choose her side! that's not fair! he needs to choose MY side! i'm being an unreasonable bitch but i don't care!

the ol' college boys buy me two shots in quick succession, thankfully completely unaware of the situation at hand. i then storm out the door to find my wonderful boy. he is smoking in the alley with roommate girl. im ready to go to redwood, i announce, carelessly. we all walk in increments, the roommate wanting to get there, me making the boy walk slower as an act of defiance, the ol' college guys drunkenly and confusedly following (hey, where are we going? they keep asking) and susie, bringing up the rear, trying to contact her own manfriend via cellphone. what a mess.

at the redwood we pushed tables together for our growing group. half the table was college boys chanting 'chug chug chug!' and the other half was me, the boy and the roommate. more drinks were bought for me and downed. still angrily sober and unfortunately clear-thinking, i watched my boy get stupider and stupider. his roommate's voice was getting more and more shrill and loud. i was fuming. AND i was being completely ignored.

bitchy time. i turned to the college guys and starting laughing loudly, swapping old stories, and acting like it was the fucking night of my life. i mean, if my boy's roommate was just going to keep directing the conversation towards things that only she and the boy had in common, i might as well be passive-aggressively exclusive with my friends. it didn't work. he didn't seem to notice, and i was so damn angry that i wanted to cry. suddenly i jumped up (woa, those drinks might have had a slight effect) and mumbled a goodbye to everyone. the boy jumped up too. 'where are you going? home, already?' he asked, stupidly. 'yes.' i glared at him and walked out. 'wait, we'll go with you,' he shouted, chasing after me. his roommate jumped up too. fucking GREAT.

outside, they continued chatting happily and i wanted to die. i was hoping that only the boy would follow me home and i could dramatically tell him to go back to the redwood and find his roommate to share a cab ride home with. 'you seem to have so much more fun with her than me!' was the grand finale line i had been rehearsing in my head. now i couldn't say anything with the roommate around. crap.

on broadway, his roommate hailed a cab, quite sloshed. oh crap, where's my money? she slurred. here. i said, shoving the entirety of my cash at her. thanks, she said, to no one in particular. once the cab took off i did the same, marching, arms folded, with some great speed, towards my house. wait, wait, not so fast! came the cries from the still oblivious boy. i spun around, hysterical. 'why didn't you just go home with her in the cab?! seems like a fucking party, you two!' hm. not bad for unrehearsed.

he stopped walking. 'WHAT?!' i looked at him. it had finally hit. here it is folks, our first (or last?) fight. i glared. he grabbed my hand. i pulled away. 'NO, we need to talk!' he said with a lot more confidence and passion than i would have expected from someone so wasted. he tried again, taking my hand gently. 'please, please, just sit down. you can be mad, just sit and tell me what is going on. feel free to yell at me, maybe i need to hear it.'

okay. i did just that. i whined, i bitched, i got teary, i got mad, i got pleading. i told him how i was insecure, how i felt ignored, how i felt like he kept flaking out on me all the time, how i get weirdly jealous of his friends (especially the roommate) and how i felt like i was freaking out and being a bitch. he listened quietly, and then he took a deep breath. i feel the same way sometimes, he said carefully.

so, we're both insecure because we are both flaky and easily distracted and we both really like each other and BAHHHH we're both so ridiculous! in the end, we're like the same person with the same silly flaws. after fighting and understanding and sorting everything out (in the park, at 3 in the morning), we sighed. 'what is this? what are we?' i asked, one last time. 'this,' he said, kissing me, 'is a relationship. and you're my girlfriend. and i guess we better just be honest about it.'

!!!

cue the make-up sex.

...and i have a boyfriend. officially. i said i wouldn't... but i pretty much immediately changed my myspace relationship status. whatever, im a girl. get over it.


appendix!

JOELORD: our landlord, named joe. amazingness; he parks his truck on our front lawn, killing the grass and occasionally running over our garden. nothing works, nothing is ever fixed, our front door is broken, the bathrooms are tiled with sample tile squares from home depot.
PP: planned parenthood! free contraception! free exams (ew, but necessary) free condoms! ask for non-flavored ones!

punch drunk like

i just made a playlist. no. make that two playlists. consisting of one hundred percent genuine, googly-eyed, mush-brained, down-right silly "in like" music.

yes, i just used the phrase "in like." whatever. it works.

le sigh. life is really good right now. well, other than money being sucky. ug. if i overdraw my account one more time i am going to want to die. payday can't come soon enough. and i have no more clothes to sell, honestly. maybe its time to consider stripping...

but no. things will get better! more shifts happening at the ol' restaurant job, making moolah with the tips and yes, absolutely, amazing... I GOT A JOB AT THE NEW FROZEN CUSTARD STAND. fucking dream come true! free frozen custard and free greasy restaurant food, ALL SUMMER LONG! AND YES CAPS ARE ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY RIGHT NOW!

besides all that, the past few weeks have been chock full of lovely evenings such as georgia and kelly's going away party (drunk), liz's housewarming party and subsequent redwood hangout (drunk), and most recently the infamous "truth or dare night" at cha cha and last saturday's funny hangout at sun liquor (both drunk).

i have to pause though, and talk about the one night that was sort of awful. on one of georgia and kelly's last nights in town, they invited me to sing karaoke with them at the wildrose. as seeing it was a wednesday (traditionally karaoke night at kate's pub for me and the boy), i called him up and asked if he wanted to switch locations for the night. only if it involves karaoke! he enthusiastically agreed. wonderful! sort of a double date? nice.

around 10 i was slightly boozing at lindas, with some kids from oddfellows. wondering where the boy was, i texted him, asking his current whereabouts. two minutes later, i received a hasty reply: "brother. emergency. call later." shit.

my mind flipped through the handbook of possibilities. drugs. jail. fight. what could it be? his brother has a track record a mile long, but seemed to be stable as of late. he had a new job, some solid friends, and best of all, had a new-ish girlfriend after years of a psycho one. what could have gone wrong?

hours later, my boy called me. he sounded absolutely beat. his voice shook slightly, and he asked me if i could come over to the honeyhole where he was eating a sandwich. "i just... need you to be here with me," he said. i quickly shut down my tab and rushed two blocks over.

upon entering, i saw my boy. staring at the wall with an unfinished sandwich in front of him, he was sitting with a few close friends. i breezed over and whispered, "what happened?" in his ear. he looked surprised to see me, and took a minute to respond. "my brother walked in on his girlfriend ... committing suicide."

...

there are no words. i started to choke up and i just held him. he was in shock. two hours prior, after getting the absolute meltdown call from his sobbing brother (who was holding the phone in one hand and his bloodied girlfriend in the other), he had rushed over to find a myriad of ambulances and police. the girlfriend was rushed to the hospital and put in the ICU. she had survived, but barely. my boy was then left to help his brother sign the papers committing the girlfriend to the psych ward, clean up the apartment and finally, wipe the splattered blood off of his brother's clothes and calm him down.

the rest of the night consisted of me trying to calm this boy down. his friends bought him a couple of shots to calm his nerves (probably a bad idea). he went outside and smoked (quite a bit of) pot to relax. and then he was in horrible shape, and i had to help him home. even when he hit the bed (and i was taking off his shoes for him), he wouldn't stop freaking out. "what if she dies?" he asked, suddenly bringing out his irish catholic upbringing. "do you believe in hell? what happens to suicides?" he demanded, of no one in particular. i admitted i had no idea. he kept sitting straight up and grabbing my hands. "just tell me if you're ever sad," he said, as horrible possibilities must have been running through his brain. "have you ever considered suicide?" he kept asking. shudder. it was a horrible night.

and yet, for some reason, it made us closer than ever. once again, it was a moment when everything seemed shitty, and one of us was there for the other. he kept apologizing for bringing me into everything. i kept telling him to never be sorry for sharing. i want to be here for you, i kept saying.

after a horrible wednesday, the week took a turn upwards. thursday night josh head, ruth, jerad and i headed over to the cha cha for some cheap pitchers and a silly game of truth or dare. yes i know, how old are we. anyways, sooner or later the boy showed up with his friends, and then we had a big rowdy table full of kids. the bars closed, the boy and i wandered over to his friend's apartment and somehow, we got really messed up. bleh. at four in the morning, we found ourselves sneaking into his coffee shop and stealing beers from the fridge. i have no clue how or when we got home.

saturday night was equally humorous. i hung out at the coffee shop with the whole crew, joking around and distracting the boy and his co-workers. its funny. at this point i am good enough friends with his co-workers that i could call any of them up to go out. in fact, on this particular night my boy was sleepy, so i turned to his co-workers and asked them if they wanted to hit up sun liquor for some post-work drinks. well, it turned out that everyone thought it a swell idea and my boy found himself persuaded to join us. "just for one drink," he stressed.

four drinks and two hours later, we are all sloshed and happy. the boy and i headed back to the coffee shop where i had left my bike chained up. "i really have to get home," we both kept repeating. we walked outside to the bus stop and weighed the pros and cons. school early for him, work early for me. ugg. ah well. a passionate smooch goodbye, and two separate, uncomfortable, frustrating trips home for each of us, respectively. nothing worse. haha.

the next few days were full of work and keeping busy. oh and yes, a lot of brain energy was going into planning my big party. what occasion, you ask? cinco de mayo. aka MEXI-FEST 2009. yes, my housemates and i love random celebrations. hence the past parties (justin timberlake party, "fuck on" party, obamarama). and now, we were overly excited for cinco de mayo. understandably so, however. tecate tall boys, chips, guacamole and being outrageous are just everyday things in the goblin house. and to have an official day to celebrate these items to excess? perfecto.

what ensued was a house decorated in red, white and green streamers, sombreros, mexi-blankets, red lightbulbs, signs declaring our purpose ("its mexi-fest 2009, put your shots out in a line..."), mexi-music blaring (think way too much ricky martin, the macarena and yes, although she is colombian, shakira), and best of all, a giant cardboard taco ring toss game that actually mostly resembled a large vagina ("toss it right in!")

and then the guests arrived. goblin friends, hon gobs, neighbors, co-workers. the music was up and going right away and the dance floor packed. outside people smoked and drank and conversed (and later yelled). upstairs people did shots. im not going to lie, it was sorta hella (steph and i decided to bring back this word) fun. a successful party, if you ask me.

oh, and me. aha. silly, silly me. ahem. i might as well preface my behavior at mexi-fest by declaring that i did my first tequila shot at nine in the morning on may the fifth. at work. while working. while an elderly couple looked at me. i shrugged, stuck a lime in my mouth while my eyes watered, and waved them over to seat themselves anywhere. twenty minutes later my co-workers and i did a second shot. it was a fun work day.

after work i did two more shots, grabbed a beer and took myself home to set up the par-tee. let me tell you this, getting sound equipment set up, lightbulbs changed, decorating and cleaning are hard enough. while drunk, well, i have no idea how everything was pulled together in two hours. but suddenly, forty people were having fun and somehow everything was in full swing.

four beers, two shots and a few hours later i was GONE. accounts from other people range in nature, but according to susie i ran upstairs when my co-workers arrived, hugged everyone and demanded that we do a shot together. pouring bad tequila into the four shot glasses i own, i decided to substitute a small juice glass for my own drinking vessel. i offered the mega shot to susie. she declined, stating that anyone would "be nuts to drink a shot that big." i then downed the shot (which was actually about 3 shots in one), my eyes got big, and i calmly walked to the bathroom where i puked my guts up.

hours later, i heard someone knocking. i groaned, wondering why i was sleeping on such a cold floor. it was the bathroom, and my boy had come looking for me. "there you are," he sighed, shaking his head. somehow he carried me to my bed, got me water and made sure i was okay before i re-passed out. ah true romance.

the next morning i felt like... well shit is not strong enough of a word to describe what i felt like. i felt like shit that has been flung into the wind and hit by a speeding semi-truck. yes. that is how i felt. thank you mexi-fest 2009. and tequila. and never, never again.

the past two days have been recovered from my mega tequila hangover, mostly laying in bed with the boy, and then eating a bit of food, and then going to his house to lay in his bed. last night we didn't even leave his bed for fourteen hours. it was sort of glorious, not going to lie. i mean, when you're warm and happy and snugly, and only have to wake up when you need to drink some water or use the bathroom or have some sex, life is good. the end.

tomorrow work begins again. welcome to the weekend.