H1N1. The easiest way to get out of work.

So as I become more and more congested, I can’t help but be a little paranoid. I mean seriously, swine flu seems a little unnecessary. But I feel like everyone I know knows someone with it, and they’re all sick. So my chances are pretty good.

The best part of all of this is my company’s swine flu policy. It says that you don’t need a note saying you have swine flu to be out of work, but you do need a note saying you don’t have swine flu to come back to work. This makes absolutely no sense. So, you can miss work for a month, go to the doctor, he writes a note saying you don’t have it, then you come back to work punishment free. Vacation time, anyone?

I started culinary school a month ago and I am definitely in love with it. I cut back my work hours to focus on classes, and then what happens. I get a promotion to a job that I’ve wanted for a while and won’t be open again until someone retires. The only thing is, it’s full time plus some and crazy hours. I’m never going to get any sleep. Add that to my pitiful excuse for an immune system and I’m going to be sick all freaking winter.

That Night

Dear Racist Asshole:

I would really like to hate you. I would. But I don’t.

I feel bad for you because you’re living in a fantasy world where black people aren’t people. Most of the things you’ve said to me in the last few days via the 60 unanswered creepy texts that I’m still not answering have made me cry. Most have made me want to strangle you. And some made no sense at all.

I feel bad for you because if you ever move out of the dirty rundown house with no heat that you live in, you’re gonna be shocked to see what the world really looks like. That real people don’t see color. That anyone with an IQ over 70 knows that Hitler was insane, and that there will never be an “Aryan nation” like you think it will be. I hate to tell you, but you have brown hair. You never would have made it.

You hate people on welfare, but you’ve done nothing for months except drink and drug away all of your unemployment. That’s government funding too, you lazy bastard. You will never be any better than anyone else. You won’t even be as good as most people. You’re literally the scum of the world and karma is going to get you. Watch out. I won't be ashamed of who I love and you're too closed minded to realize that.


Amber



Dear everyone else there that night:

It really hurts to know that no one checked on me after I started hyperventilating. That you let me drive home without at least checking to look and see if my eyes were both open. That you knew what he said and wouldn’t let me in the house to hit him. That you continued the party after I left without a phone call, text message or anything to check on me. Fuck all of you.

Amber

You wanna WAN burger and some french cries?

Wow. How pathetic was that last post? Further proof that drinking Jagerbombs all night while crying and reviewing every failed relationship in my life and then blogging about it is a BAD idea. My boy, the one I was somehow convinced was leaving me, may or may not be. But he’s not leaving me for good. Just moving. Maybe. He’s very unsure of his current life move, therefore his decision to move changes daily. Either way, I do believe he’ll be around for quite a while.

Anywho, in other news, I had a really strange week. I had that impending sense of doom hovering in the corner like a bad child. But after a plethora of liquor, a therapeutic rage kicking session, and a very invigorating adventure in the mountains with my love yesterday, things are looking much better. I’m going to West Virginia this weekend to spread my dad’s ashes on the New River Gorge Bridge. If you’ve never heard of this bridge, it’s amazing. There’s a mountain called Beauty Mountain on one side of the bridge, where I will proceed to pour out for some vodka for my homies and let the ashes fly. I feel like this event may help me begin to let go and move on.

It’s a gorgeous day outside and I’m stuck at work. How fun. If one more customer hangs up on me, I swear I’m gonna start hanging up on them. It’s ridiculous. But more on customer service later.

A fairy tale of sorts

Once upon a time there was a girl. She was what we like to call a "serial dater". She was in long term relationships back to back for 8 years straight. One boy leaves, oh well, the next one's right around the corner. Six years into this constant whirlwind of mean, angry, useless boys she met the one. Or so she thought. He was everything she thought she wanted. The strong quiet type. He had good values, good you know, and he was good looking to boot. Up until this point, the girl had never really dated an attractive guy. She thought they were, of course, but most didn't. Until this one.
This boy took over her brain. He moved in almost immediately and was always there for her, or so it seemed. Soon enough things started to go sour. They were engaged 3 months in (too soon of course) and began to plan for happily ever after. Then he cheated. Things were tense and this girl went crazy. Crazy jealous. She couldn't handle the pressure and couldn't trust him again. She couldn't let him go though. No way no how. So she pushed through it. She dealt with all kinds of bullshit. Tons of potential cheating. Five breakups. But she never gave up. In the back of her mind she knew. It would be her and him forever. Then, during a freak blizzard at the end of February (which doesn't usually happen in VA) and right after the girl's dad died, he left. Left and never came back. This girl lost her mind and went on a fury of binge drinking and overall self loathing.
Fast forward to three months later and she met HIM. The new boy. The love her life. The reason she wakes up smiling every morning and the reason she makes it through the day. And now he's leaving too. How does said girl make sure the next one doesn't leave? It seems almost impossible that she could have to feel this pain again. Yet it's happening. It's playing out right before her eyes.
This feeling has to go away soon or I might just lose it for good. It seems ridiculous that I base my self-worth on if someone loves me or not. But it's always been this way. Call it daddy issues. Call it co-dependence. Call it dumb. Either way, it seems like this pain will never go away.

Happy fucking father's day.

Dear Daddy:

This is my first father’s day without you. We never really celebrated it when you were alive but now that you’re gone I’ve felt like I couldn’t breathe all day. I don’t think I will ever get over the pain of watching you die and knowing I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I am so angry that you left me here. I’m even angrier that you left me for the bottle long before that.

I thought I had daddy issues before but these days it seems I’m a whole new type of crazy. I coddle the hell out of everyone for fear that if I turn my back they might leave me. Or die. Or something. Because of my intense need to be with the people I love all the time, I’ve pushed two very important people away from me. I’m my mother. I never understood why she put up with your belligerent shit for so long. It’s because she needed something to keep her grounded. Now that you’re gone, she’s flown the coop. I keep trying to replace you with someone just as drunk and mean as you but no one will ever replace you. No matter what, I’ll still always be daddy’s little girl. I love you. Happy father’s day.

Get off me, blood sucker!

Ever since I can remember, I have taken care of people. I’m the first to loan someone money if I have it or buy them a pack of cigarettes or a beer when payday isn’t soon enough. Sometimes, this is a good thing. People think I’m caring and sweet. I’ve made plenty of friends by passing out cigarettes to drunk girls who’ve dropped their cigarettes in puddles/toilet/ piles of puke (don’t judge, we’ve all been there).
I’ve been taken advantage of for years. Some of my best friends have only hung around me because of my generosity. I’ve spent thousands of dollars to make sure that no one is left out and everyone is having a good time. And it has to stop.
I’ve recently been extremely broke due to the back and forth moving and being unemployed for the last 3 weeks. I’m tired of being used and being broke is always a good motivation. So I’m cutting everyone off. No rides, no food, cigarettes. Nothing. Find someone else to leech off of. Please.

And, I'm back!

So after a very broke and rainy few weeks in Charleston where I had no friends, lived at the public library, and ate potted meat for every meal for 4 days straight (how the heck did I even do that?) I came to visit VA for 3 days.



And I didn't go back.



Not my choice. I got home to a zoo of people at my moms house, which was already weird due to the fact that my mom is a loner and has no friends. They stayed up all night, kept me up, caused me to leave my moms and escape to the boyfriend's at 3am just to go to sleep. Moral of the story is, at some point that night, my mom lost her mind. Literally.



I came home the next day hungover, sleepy, and starving. Over a huge plate of bacon, my mom dropped the bomb. I couldn't go back to SC. Period. She was going to check into the Psych ward a la nervous breakdown 2009. Did NOT see that one coming. So after 3 weeks, my dream died in 5 minutes. I had to quit my job, break my lease, and kiss the tiny hint of tan I had goodbye. I moped for about a week, drank for about a week, and now I'm remembering how much I hate small town living. I feel like I failed. And it wasn't even my choice. After moving costs, apartment stuff, and moving back costs, my mom literally threw away thousands of dollars. She's out of the nut house, super happy and loving life due to the killer meds they gave her. And I'm miserable. I'm pretty sure I became the mom in this relationship and that makes me just wanna rage kick everything in my path.

How disturbing.

I just started and finished packing in approximately 30 minutes. I just realized that my whole life can fit into 2 small boxes. I win.



Huge going away party for me on Friday. I don't know if everyone's coming to say goodbye and they'll miss me or thank god that drunk girl is gone. Never again will I get to stumble around yelling obscenities and making out with the closest cute boy. So in honor of this, I present you with a few pictures of my best drunken debauchery.











So there you have it. This is how the last 3 years of my life has panned out. Basically just replace the faces with other faces. Either way I always look the same. Blacked out.

It's t-minus 8 days and counting till moving day. I got approved for my apartment today and I'm so excited. See ya later hole in the wall one stop light town.

Who knew I could feel emotions?

As previously stated, I’ve been plotting to get away from here since I was old enough to drive. Who doesn’t want to just get in the car and go? But now that moving day is looming closer (2 weeks to be exact) I’m starting to get scared.

I mean, I’m not backing out. I really can’t, considering I put my 2 weeks notice in at work today. Kind of a no turning back kind of thing. I don’t know what I’ll do without my mom being 30 minutes or less away from me. Who’s gonna take care of me when I’m sick and fix me soup? Who’s gonna yell at me when I stumble in drunk at 3am to tell her how much I love her?

I’m 22 years old. I’ve heard tons of people’s stories of moving to a new town and starting over without knowing anyone. They made it. But can I? I guess this would be the part in the story where I put on my proverbial big girl panties and suck it up. I will have to make it. There is no option to fail. Failure would mean trudging back into suck town with my head low and listening to the thousands (or 20ish) I told you so’s. And that is not an option at all.

On another note, my ribcage on the right side is throbbing. Any ideas? I WebMd’ed it, but of course all I got was nothing. See a doctor. Blah. It’s Friday and I get off early today. The weather is a gorgeous sunny 75. What does this mean? Drunken adventure of course. Who knows where I’ll end up, but I’ll be having fun wherever I am.

Charleston, will you marry me?

I got the job! And I'm in love with this gorgeous little place called Charleston. The girls and I road tripped down on Sunday and proceeded to make a mockery of the town. Ok, that's a total lie. I was like a kid in a candy store. Or an alcoholic in a liquor store. Whichever you prefer.

The beach was cold but amazing. We got completely trashed in our hotel room at 9pm and infiltrated the hotel pool. Whether it was actually open or not, who knows. It had water in it is all I know. Then we ran across four lanes of traffic to the convenience store across the street. It had a make your own hot dog bar. Ah-mazing. KT also did the stanky leg. Video to come.

All in all I love everything and everyone. Oh yeah, the boy is also amazing. Too bad I have to leave him.

Dear mystery man:

Why did you have to come into my life now? I haven't had these feelings or laughed this much with a (straight) male in years. Seriously. I was chugging along, hating love and being a drunk girl when you showed up. Now, I don't even want to be a drunk girl. Ok, that's a lie, but I wanna be maybe slightly less wasted every time we see each other.

A guy with a kid has always been a deal breaker for me. Not anymore. Your daughter is gorgeous. You appreciate my drunken rambling. You even remembered that I hate the color red even though I told you when you were a 6 pack of Hurricanes (gag gag) in. I wish you would get out of my head!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On another note, it's Friday. Yah. I'll be off work soon and then it's get drunk and bust a move time. I'm pregaming and then transferring to another party where I intend to drink half of a half gallon of Jager and possibly wake up in the floor or on the toilet or something. Wish me luck.

Drunk post!

I'm drunk and starting to catch a hangover and I really want some McDonald's.

My friend Tori has two little turtles and they are amazing! So cute and I think someone is calling me? The roommate chipped my tooth last night. I was blacked out and we were in the bathroom screaming Total Eclipse of the heart. Don't hate. That song is amazing. So anywho. She was in the shower (fully clothed of course) and she slammed the door open. Right into my FACE. So it was fine until today. I'm sitting at my happy little cubicle and a chunk of my tooth fell into my hand. Cunt. But it's fine cuz she definitely pissed in the floor and all over herself later that night. So I win! HAHA. I'm drunk.

Way to bamboozle me, suck town.

I've been plotting my escape from this tiny town for years. It's like an old cellphone. Full of bad memories and mistakes. I regularly stand in line at Walmart behind the boy that broke my heart into a million pieces. And his WIFE. I love my friends and my family. But it's time for me to go.

And then, out of nowhere, I got bamboozled. I did my usual drunking around this weekend, pregaming at home and then party hopping on Friday. Pregaming and getting too drunk to leave so drinking at the house instead on Saturday. My friend's guy friend (i.e. boyfriend that she won't claim) showed up around midnight with one of his friends. And it was over.

I immediately called dibs on the friend. Why not? I try to get what I want. So I proceeded to babble at him for hours about who knows what. Then I semi-blacked out. I woke up the next day with him in my bed. I figured it was gonna be one of those really awkward one night things where you don't know what to say the morning after. But it wasn't.

We've been talking constantly and he drove 45 minutes to just hang out with me last night. Nothing physical, just cuddling and watching TV. So, 3 weeks before I'm supposed to start my new amazing life, I'm smitten. Stupid suck town.

The token job post.

It seems that right aroud the beginning of every person's blog, they do the job post. So here's mine.

I'm a jeans and tee kinda girl. I mean, I can clean up when I want. But when I do dress up, everyone assumes someone died or I was in court. What the hell? Anyhoo, somehow I ended up here. Working as a client specialist (i.e. call center rep) for a multi-million dollar semi-high end (as in $300 a sweater) clothing company. I give people style advice all day. While in sweatpants. I love my job. I sit at a desk. I talk to people. If they're rude, I can hang up. Pretty sweet.

I do not, however, enjoy the people I work with. Outside of work, I'm loud. I laugh at nothing and I'm aways smiling. At work, I sit down and do my job and go home. Apparently, according to what my supervisor said in a one on one meeting last week, I'm sarcastic. I'm not friendly. I don't have the bubbliness to work in this department. I mean, I still work in this department. But apparently no one knows how or why. Bitch.

So I decided to be friendlier. Try to make conversation. And all I get is blank stares and mumbles. Oh well. I've more than worn out my welcome in this town. So. I'm moving.


To Charleston, SC! Same company, except now I'm going to work in the retail store. And I really want to meet my dream man. Definitely can't do it here. So long suck town!

Anger management.

I spent all weekend really drunk. Friday I stayed at my lovable little afroed friend's house. Watched him bong (as in beer bong) some vodka and make a complete fool out of himself. Of course the night ended with him puking and me rubbing his pack and peeing in the bath tub.

Hey! I rinsed it out. He was hogging the toilet. Ass.

Saturday I went to another afroed hippie boy's house. My friend's boyfriend. For some reason taking shots doesn't get me nearly as drunk as pouring half of a cup of rail vodka and mixing it with some sort of fruit juice. No idea why.

Apparently I literally stood over KT (the roommate/heterosexual life partner) and kicked her, screaming that the air mattress she was sleeping on was in fact all mine. I also woke up with an odd pain in my chin that was apparently caused by me trying to wrestle the already blown up air mattress out of the closet and tripping and hitting my face on hippie boy's bass. I win.

According to my mom, I need anger management. I told her I would give it a shot. I still believe alcohol is the best way to relieve stress and anger.

When it rains, it pours.

It's my friend Bryant's 22nd birthday today. He died New Years Eve night.

I'm not one to whine. Actually, I don't think I even have the ability to cry while I'm sober. But god, I hate the rain.

In the last year, it's rained every day that someone I love died. My dog died. Then my grandma. Then Bryant. And if this wasn't enough to deal with, my dad died at the end of January. I now have a fear of the rain.

It started raining on Wednesday. Nothing has happened yet, but I loathe the weather so much that it makes me feel crazy. Like a feeling of impending doom. I can barely get out of the bed on rainy days. If it wasn't for this god forsaken job, I don't think I would get up.I drive ridiculously slow. I text all of my friends every 30 minutes to make sure they're ok.

I don't think I can make it through many more rainy days.

Let me clear my throat. uh huh uh huh.

After stalking some very nifty people's blogs, I decided that this is exactly where I need to be. So just so you know a little more about me, I'm one of those girls. You know, the drunk ones at parties always stumbling around and laughing louder than a hyena? Well, that's me. Here's a story to explain.

On St.Patrick's Day I got off work and went to a guy friend of mine's house. One of those awkward gatherings where you only talk to the people you came with. Kind of like a high school dance. But what always makes me friendlier? Jager. Thats what. So after 3 (15) Jagerbombs later I decided that I loved everyone. I stumbled around and made a scene and tried to convince the guy who's house I was at that he needs to love me. Like, forever. And he said....

**crickets**

But that didn't stop me. I love a challenge. So after I spent 20 minutes in his bathroom puking, I came out, drank some more, and went back to work. Needless to say, he still doesn't love me. As I stumbled in the house at 4am bumping into walls, wondering how I just made it up the stairs, I realized that I had lost my roommate. What the hell?


She came home the next morning. She was hand in hand with my dignity.