what the fuck?

So i've been looking for a new apartment because my raised rent has me skyrocketing towards homelessness.

Yesterday i went on a house-hunting mission, and saw about a thousand shitty places and met quite a few totally incapable "realtors". I put realtor in quotes because if you arrive (late) to show me a home while wearing your pajamas, you are not a realtor, you are a lazy bitch.

The first place i went i stood outside in the 100 degree heat for 20 minutes waiting for the girl to meet me at the sales office. 20 minutes is the ABSOLUTE longest i can wait for pretty much anything. I called the girl who was supposed to meet me and she said "oh, i'm in the condo. I thought we were meeting in here." I wanted to say "Now how the hell am I supposed to know which condo it is if you said there were a few to choose from?" But instead politely walk my sweaty ass over to the condo she's in and open the door and

what. the. fuck.

it smelled like something absolutely DIED in the condo.

Me: "what is up with that smell?"

"Realtor": Oh, we aren't sure. either something died in the attic or it's the maggots in the fridge.

Me: maggots in the fridge? for real?

"Realtor": yeah, actual maggots. Now i can't promise that the owner will replace the fridge, but we will at least have it cleaned out before you move in.

Me: peace.

Then I go to another place and feel good that i've arrived at 4:55 which is the earliest i have ever been for a 5:00 appointment.
I call the dude i'm meeting and he says

"Realtor": you're here? Well, i guess meet me in the sales office."

I walk to the sales office and arrive at 4:57.

"Realtor": I didn't know you'd be so early.

Me: it's five o'clock right now, i'm not early. trust me, i'm never early.

"Realtor": Well i'm starving, have a seat. You'll have to wait while i eat this.

Me: Seriously?

Then he takes out a Wendy's bag, slowly spreads out his yellow napkin as a little tablecloth, and starts meticulously dipping fries into a Frosty. For 20 minutes.

I try to make conversation while I wait.
me: wow, it's really hot today. (yeah, that's a wack thing to say, i know. give me a break.)
"Realtor": Yeah, my parents just moved out here and they didn't have air conditioning for a few days. They almost died.
Me: yeah, i hear that every year there are a few deaths due to heat.
"Realtor": no, that doesn't happen here. That usually just happens in France.
Me: (stare blankly. think "how fucking random is this guy?" end conversation.)

Then when he was finished sucking the last of the frosty and fry crumbs out of the cup (fucking nasty) he showed me an apartment that was the size of a dish washer. i declined to take an application.

I went on to see:
1. a place located between a cemetary and a powerplant substation. (maybe it's just me, but i'm pretty sure substations aren't healthy to live by.)
2. a place in the absolute ghetto that wouldn't allow my dog even though they said dogs were allowed in the ad. probably for the better, it was depressing ghetto not cheap ghetto.
3. a place that was decent but came partially furnished with a giant plaid couch that i was in no circumstances allowed to move, and the guy who owned it randomly asked me if i knew where Israel was. Probably only the beginning of the weirdness if i moved in there.

So finally after all this we decided to move across the street into the dope lofts that i had forgotten about until last night. good work, dee.

in other news, my cooking rocks the fucking house and who knew i could cook the shit out of a wheat free BBQ chicken pizza?

if you shut your eyes, it could be eminem.

I'm not kidding, this one is better than the original. (i can't think of a song that's not better than the original, but that's not the point.)

especially the part about the klingon. This is my official proof that nerdy white people actually do learn klingon.


i never thought i'd say this shit, but Weird Al is kind of a genius. Thanks to The Mad Reel World for pointing out this clip:


and i know a dude named MC Escher in DC. He actually said to me once "i smoke ciggarettes because i'm hoping it will make my voice all rugged and gravelly like Method Man." good luck, son.

wedding pics

okay, so there's only three. and i'm only in one. don't worry, i'll post more in case anyone was wondering what "dee has been alternately wasted and hung-over for four straight days" looks like.
my friends do NOT fuck around when there is free champage.

i'm the one that looks like Humpty Hump.

this is the wrong way to wear the Love Jacket.

just moments before the slide mauling.

this is me, unsuspectingly about to be brutally mauled by a hardwood slide.
not pictured: my virgin, burn free elbows.
pictured: all the main characters from the slide burn post. can you guess who is who?

hipsters are annoying.

as many of you may know, Jared Leto has recently expressed his disdain for celebrity bloggers by saying that blogging is "just ridiculous. it's like a playground for 4 year olds...blogging is like yesterday's parachute pants...it's a false experience."

does anyone see the IRONY here?



you know what is like a ridiculous playground for 4 year olds? the skinny-pant wearing dirty black hair having HIPSTER SCENE, that's what. Guess what today's parachute pant is, Jared. Pasty white guys in EYELINER, that's what. seriously. and you know what i consider a false experience? going from being an only semi-annoying b-list actor to a freak show "musician". in your face jared leto, it's only a matter of time until you realize that your pretentious little scene is more contrived than Tom Cruise's marriages.

motherfucker.

i would just like to say that i officially paid off my ex-fiance's debt. it is total and complete bullshit and once again he is getting off the hook and completely avoiding responsibility for his own fuck up.
i didn't even know i was on this credit account of his, he stopped paying it, and my credit got ruined. completely. so i paid off the debt so that we wouldn't get sued and now i'm fucking pissed. he is SO lucky that Fort Collins CO is in the middle of no fucking where because if not, i'd already be on my way to personally beat his ass.

i can't help wondering what i paid for exactly.
knowing his past spending record, probably:
1. ammo
2. krylon
3. booze
4. booze
5. cds. NOT FAIR. I can't even afford to buy music for myself.
6. gas, food, dog food (i hope)
7. booze. i can't stress that one enough.

ugh, i have to end this post before i get PISSED.

glad to be back.

well, i've finally emerged from my wedding induced headhaze braincloud fog. I can officially see farther than two feet in front of my face. and to think that i used to be able to party for actual weekends at a time and then mosey into class and ace tests while still on ecstasy...wow, the glory days are REALLY over.

anyway, now i can get my life back in order. You know, wash the dishes, clean the kitchen, do laundry, check up on the superficial.com so i have some ammo for my daily celeb shit talking, and look at my computer's browsing history to see what porn my boyfriend watched while i was away. (apparently he really likes porn clips where the girl rides the guy facing away from him...we never do that one...maybe this is a hint?)

the funny thing is, when we first started dating he would erase the browsing/download history and the cache so i would have no idea what he was looking at while i was away. (although a totally clear browsing history and cache is a good indication that someone is hiding something!) Now when i go away he doesn't even bother to hide it, which i don't mind. i'm a big fan of honesty. i've never been into porn before (i hadn't ever really watched it until this year. yes, that is the truth. i'm a big fan of honesty, like i just said.) i decided that this is how i feel about porn: it's fucking gross unless there are NO PENISES involved. two girls getting it on is sexy. a sweating man frantically humping a girl is fucking gross. I mean let's face it, porn is all about the girl anyway. the guy is only frantically humping her to get her to make sexy noises and pretend to come. Do we really need to see the veiny dick and the weird-ass balls in order to do this? no. just give another hot girl a vibrator and cut the sweaty loser out of the picture. just my opinion. but i'm with dave chappelle on this one: the only penis involved should be the one watching the porn. the one penis rule. (and in my case, the no penis rule.)

in your face

slide burn

last night was another night that reminds me i am too old to drink. it was fun, i met a grip of good people, including one gay man that doesn't admit he's gay that and that tried to kiss my hot girlfriend but was really secretly in love with his own man friend. he was SO gay but either doesn't know or doesn't admit it, i'm going for "doesn't admit". he was funny but not that funny and wasn't that nice to me until we got back to someone's loft and he looked at me and said "you are SO hot, i didn't notice before." thanks, it meant so much to me that you said that.
and one of the clubs we went to was having it's opening night party. the club is called Slide and has an actual hard wood slide that you go down to get to the club. ATTENTION EVERYONE: do NOT go down the slide. they have a guy at the bottom that is there to catch you if you come shooting out of the slide too fast, and he was really bad at his job. he did NOT catch me and i came flying out of the stupid slide at a hundred miles an hour in my tight skirt and silk top and heels with i'm sure my g string showing for everyone to see as i come sprawling out onto the floor with my legs going in five different directions. at least i had a g string on and didn't flash scary shaved camel lips at everyone like lindsay lohan oh wait i don't have scary camel lips so nevemind it wouldn't have been that bad. the whole point is that i have crazy slide burn on my arms from trying to stop myself on the stupid slide and the slide is stupid.

hate to be negative but...

today sucks.
I know i have a great life and that things in my world are pretty fucking good. but right now that is all relative because things are shitty.
I just got a call from the bank and my ex-fiance hasn't paid this checking account that turned into a line of credit that turned into a MAJOR DEBT that my name just happened to be attached to even though the bank and my ex told me my name was no longer on the account.
so i called my ex-fiance's mom.
...
that elipses is where i wrote a scathing description of her which was really fucking funny but mean and i don't want to be mean to her because i'm really only pissed at him. let's just say that there are three things that scare me in this world. 1. the dark. 2. flying. 3. my ex-fiance's mom. not in that order, necessarily.
anyway, i called her but had to leave a message, and just hearing her south boston accent on the machine was scary. no joke, my hands were shaking. anyone who has met her will understand.
so now i'm just waiting to hear from her so i can tell her how her son has completely ruined my financial life. this is how it will go:

me: hi, thanks for calling me back

her: fuck you, you ruined my son's life

me: my mom had to pay off your son's debt so that i didn't get sued by wachovia, and
we need to figure something out here.

her: this would have never happened if you hadn't left him.

me: i left him because of this kind of irresponsibility. he totally ruined my credit and my poor mother had to step in. she lives in a one bedroom apartment and works for the state. you live in a fucking mansion and don't even have to work. I just want you to give her back the $1,400 she spent on your son

her: and i want you to give back the $x,xxx we spent on your engagement ring.

me: see, that's part of why i left, you bought the ring FOR him. he can't do anything by himself, including pay bills.

her: that's why you shouldn't have left him in the first place.

or something like that. i'll keep you posted.

love america, hate george w. bush

i don't know why, but this is the hardest 9/11 anniversary yet.

this one, today, is really affecting me and i feel like i'm right back in DC. Panicking, waiting for the next attack, driving to GMU to watch tv there because i didn't have a tv in my house, in general just thinking this was the begining of the end. I made it to the tv at GMU in time to see the second plane hit (lee, were we in there together? i can't even remember anything but the TV.) and then stayed there through the collapse of the towers. it was unbelievable. And then the constant fear of a nuclear bomb in DC, sleepless nights waiting to hear an explosion, anthrax (i just happened to send a letter that exact day when they found the anthrax in my post office, i have perfect timing) and my morning reading the Washington Post, over an espresso with half a bottle of Bailey's in it, to keep updated without having a television.

this is the first day i've let myself watch any footage of that day.

I watched Koppel's Discovery broadcast last night and kept hearing the term "if we have another attack". After 9/11 i don't think "if" is the right term, i think it's WHEN.

i hate this "war on terror", the unwinnable war against a faceless and undefined enemy, the war in Iraq that is totally unrelated, and of course, our president. but i love our amazing country, everything that is the idea of america, and all our troops serving overseas. i think the best way to support them is to bring them home.

actual conversations

me: did you happen to notice what drinks were on the board for happy hour?
really nice but amazingly niave friend: yeah, they have a few kinds of cosmos.
me: oh yeah, i noticed that. do you remember what kinds? what are you getting?
really nice but amazingly niave friend: they had regular cosmos and a cosmo with something that i can't even pronounce that starts with a P. i've never heard of it, so i'm just getting a regular cosmo.
me (remembering what was on the board.): you mean pomegranate?
RNBANF: pomegranate? is that how you say it? what is a pomegranate? Have you ever heard of that? (asks friend)
RNBANF's Friend: it's a fruit, right? pomegranate fruit?
Me: seriously? you have never heard of pomegranate? you know, the really high in anti oxidant fruit that was also popular in greek mythology? (now they just think i'm insane)
RNBANF: I guess i'm kind of sheltered, i've never heard of one. i'm just having a regular cosmo.

Then last week I was having dinner with same friend and her husband.
RNBANF: woah, they have greek salad here, i'm so excited. I just learned about greek salad last week.
me: what the fuck.
RNBANF: have you heard of it? it's so good, it's my new favorite thing.
me: how did you make it 25 years without knowing about greek salad?
RNBANF: I don't know, i guess i'm kind of sheltered.
RNBANF's husband comes over from playing pool: hey, are you having the greek salad? they have that here, exiting, huh? We just learned about them last week.

then I was at starbucks the other day:
me: can i have a triple grande latte with organic milk please?
barista: sure, that's $5.76 please.
me: thanks.
i go over to the side where they make the drinks and watch as the barista takes out soy milk and starts foaming it.
me: actually, i wanted organic milk.
barista: yeah, i'm using it.
me: that is soy milk you are using.
barista: (looks at me with deer in headlights face) wait, what's the difference?
me: seriously?
barista: i guess we don't have organic milk. hey David, where is the organic milk?
david: it's right there in the fridge next to the whole milk. david comes over and points to the box of soy milk.
david: it's right here.
me: that's soy milk
david: isn't soy organic milk?
me: no, they are not the same thing at all. Soy isn't really good for you, i would rather have organic milk.
barista: yeah, we don't have organic milk right now i guess. but don't worry, we have soy.

oh. my. god.

fuckin marriage.

i fully intend on getting married one day, but for now, is it wrong of me to feel that marriage is kind of selfish? it's great for the bride and groom, but unless it is you actually getting married, the whole fiasco goes like this: spend a million dollars that you don't even have (on your credit card) and fly half way around the fucking world with your nicest clothes and hope they don't get ruined in your luggage and then get to the wedding and spend another million dollars of credit on a shitty hotel that you share with twenty other broke ass people and go to the wedding and listen to "you are the wind beneath my wings" and then go to the reception dinner and sit next to an aunt of the groom that you don't know and make small talk and drink cheap champagne while people make speeches that are more painful than nails on a chalk board and then you dance to some music that an aging dj plays including but not limited to "the chicken dance", and then you get really fucking drunk and eat a hotdog at the midnight buffet and get ketchup on your expensive bustier or even worse they don't even HAVE a midnight buffet so you go to Jack-in-the-Box at 3 am in you expensive bustier, and then you make out with someone you should NOT make out with (this happens every time, and you know it) then you wake up the next morning embarrassed about how drunk you were and you hate yourself.

things i learned in vegas

1. the skinny jean is fucking disgusting and everyone and their fucking fag hag in LA and Vegas is wearing it. Dear everyone and their fag hag: take the fucking skinny jeans off. they do NOT look good on you. if they do look good on you it's because you are really really hot and would look even hotter in something else.

seriously, the skinny jean. fuck the "things i learned in vegas" post. (okay, i'll sum it up: beige is really in for fall '06, giant foil screenprints will be on EVERYTHING, skulls in swarovski crystals will be on every hoodie in the world, and i rock at roulette.) so back to the skinny jeans. imagine the worst nasty, pasty, cigarrette smoking, eye liner wearing, asymetrical mother fucking edward scissor hands hair rocking, bad skin having white guy. pretty gross, right? now imagine him in tights made out of denim that bunch at the ankle and drape off his no-ass and gape over his crack. great. this is how EVERYONE looks in the skinny jean, i don't care if you are a 6' model or jared fucking leto, you look disgusting and contrived. take off your fucking fanny pack and find some pants you can fit your wallet in.

things i miss

google image search for "nail tips" yields: xxl dick. word.Things i miss:
1. my grandmother
2. my grandfather
3. making out with girls
4. smoking. although i only did it on and off and currently think it's gross, i miss holding a cigarette and miss french inhaling and miss having smoke curl around and i get jealous when i see pictures of people smoking.
5. long ass nail tips. i used to have a dope Old English style gold D on each ring finger and they were hot like fire. and i had swarovski crystals on them too, i think i feel a revival coming on.
6. being in school. it was safe, entertaining, and i was good at it.
7. the east coast.
8. my nike's from the buzz years. they were lost to the capital ballroom.
9. my two separate pairs of gucci sunglasses that i stepped on and broke like an idiot. maybe this is a superficial thing to miss, but they made my life a better place, so maybe i'm superficial.
10. that's all for now, remember to check back often for the latest installment.