10 month update!

Hey babes!

How cliche of me to start off by saying “It’s been a while since I’ve updated” BUT let’s get real, it’s been AGES since I’ve last posted. I’ve been living life and getting my shit in order, so I don’t feel too badly about not writing recently.

So, let’s update!

I am happy!

I had been down in the dumps about my body and how much weight I’ve gained, as well as how little I had been working and the lack of money I was bringing in. I woke up daily and just didn’t want to deal with the world, would rather be in bed until 3 pm than facing life head on.  I was hiding from the world but knew that I needed to change my attitude before my relationship was sabotaged by my own doing.


So I decided to give it a shot, to try to be happy. And holy fck, it actually helped in so many ways! I decided to let go of the negativity in my head, how I perceived the world around me and just like a little spell, I became happy. It doesn’t mean that I’m suddenly happy 24/7, I still have my moments and off days, but I’ve been focused more on the good around me, and I’ve been in an overall better mood!

I’m 23 now (woohoo) and babe is the big 3-0! We had such a fun night celebrating his birthday and the end of my birthday week by going to downtown Dallas to watch the Stars kick some ass (errs, get their ass kicked). So maybe they lost, but we had epic seats and the people watching was hilarious.

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We met up with some of his co-workers and friends and had drinks afterwards at the Jack Daniels club, followed by a confusing drive to our hotel and finding a 7/11 to get some Budice for the hotel room. We hopped a block over to my favorite bar OEP, but once realizing how shitty the clientele was, we high tailed it out of there and went to some hole in the wall bar and ended up running into my old neighbor from my old apartment before I moved in with Justin. Most random bar, most random person to run into AND THEN I mentioned how shitty OEP was to the bartender, mentioned a friend of mine and got a sweet hook up on the drinks. Oh, and the two wedding parties that were at the bar made for a fun night. Groomsmen get really drunk at their friends weddings and that’s the only conclusion I’ve come to.
We ended up leaving the hotel at like 2:30am, mainly because the hotel was creepy as fuck, but also we wanted to be home with our pups and wake up whenever we wanted, not having to stick to a certain clock out time. It was a good call considering we stayed up until almost 5 am having a blast together, and ended up sleeping well past 3 pm the next day.

I have to get back to work, but since I have so much free time at work, I will be blogging more often.


Know Your Limit

Sometimes when I’m drunk, I get really loud, laugh at things that aren’t funny, talk to strangers like they’re my best friends and occasionally fall down.
Ok, okay, so that’s me pretty much all the time but my point is, I’m pretty much the same person while sober, drunk or in between.
I met this girl at the pool this weekend. Nancy was fairly sober while walking in, joining us few there that came out even though it was overcast. She instantly made her presence known to the six of us while cracking open a beer and chugging between introductions. Then came the second beer, and then started the shots.
Then we met the other side of Nancy:
Drunk Nancy.
Drunk Nancy decided it was appropriate to tell everyone present that she wanted my vagina (I so wish I was kidding). She felt the need to tell my boyfriend that she would love to take me home and play with my “beautiful ass”. She also felt the urge to go have sex with a random guy in the bathroom next to the pool.
Poor Drunk Nancy, she forgot she had a boyfriend.
Yes, this poor lad was sitting at home while his girlfriend was “laying out” at the pool. He had no idea his girlfriend was being completely inappropriate and a complete drunk fuck.
I’ve seen this happen at bars and I’ve even seen some of my friends fall to this awful tragedy. It’s easily fixable and quite simple: know your limit.

When I first started drinking, I had absolutely no idea what my limit was. It’s taken about four years for me to understand what it is and when to stop (yikes mom and dad, sorry). I do understand it takes some give and take, learning by mistake and waking up to awful hangovers, but we should all know our limits by the time we hit twenty-one to twenty-four. Nancy was twenty-six and couldn’t handle more than four beers and three shots. This was what made me start looking into getting drunk so you lovelies can understand how to not get to fucked up and act like a complete baboon. Here’s what I found out:

it matters about your weight
We metabolize one beer per hour, based on scientists. If you weigh less, you generally have a higher metabolism, therefore those beers process much faster through your body causing you to get intoxicated quicker. If you weigh normal for your height, your metabolism isn’t extremely high, therefore you get less drunk in the same amount of time that 95lb. friend of yours.

it matters about your diet
The more carbs and fat you have, the more you’ll delay intoxication. The surest way to make sure you don’t get overly drunk is to make sure you have a carb and fat (or healthy-fat in my case) heavy dinner to ensure you can last your night. But this doesn’t mean you can drink a million times more than if you just had your normal sushi and wine before going out; the carb and fat intake doesn’t make you not drunk, it just delays the moment in your night when you get drunk. Get a good meal and you won’t be passing out at 1am with your head in the toilet.

it matters how much you drink
Just like pretty much everything else in this world, the more often you drink, the better you get at drinking. Like playing the piano, playing basketball or shooting a gun, practice makes perfect. If you only really heavily drink on weekends, your body lowers the tolerance level for alcohol between every minute from last drinking to that next time. There’s memory for tolerance that we don’t understand. If you want to go out on Friday and Saturday night plus enjoy Sunday Funday, I suggest you crack some beers open throughout the week. Go cold turkey for too long and you will feel eighteen again.

I’m all about going out and having a good time, but I’m also about lasting and having a good night without becoming a complete psycho cunt. I’ve learned my limit and know how many of what different kinds of shots to take mixed with how many beers I can cruise on, and it’s lasted me many nights without regretting ever picking up that fireball. Don’t be a Drunk Nancy or a Carried Out The Bar Carrie, learn your limit and respect it. Your body will thank you when you’re thirty-five.

Guys & the bars

“Hey baby, you look just like Miley Cyrus, but like way fucking hotter. Want a drink?”

Welcome to my Saturday night at a local bar.

A bar that is occupied with probably 78% Fratty-McDouchervillles, 15% Sorostitutes, and a measly 7% locals. It’s really confusing when you walk in because you’re kindof turned on by that guy with the leather jacket and long hair but then you see a girl wearing some form of Vera Bradley, dangling her French manicure over his incredible biceps, and you cringe a little inside. Then you look at the other side of the bar, and it’s crammed with about eighty dudes all awkwardly standing around pretending to watch Sportscenter while gawking at every female painfully spaced away from another at the bar.

It’s a TON of fucking fun.

Don’t get me wrong, I love getting hit on as much as any other human does, but I’m going to say this just one time so nobody gets too confused:
I am incredibly disappointed with the guys out there.

Somewhere, between the time you first used a sock while learning about boobs and your body, and to the time now where a sock is something you fold and put into a drawer, you missed a really big lesson in life. Somehow, someone lead you to believe that being a complete asshole to females would get you a fantastic and doting wife that would cook you a delicious dinner each night and clean all day, but in reality you get a wife that nags at you when you gain twenty pounds, who eventually divorces you and forces you to reevaluate the last thirty years of your life. I digress.

What I’m saying is this:

You guys need to clean up your act and learn a few manners. You do not get a lady by hollering at her (Did you know that guys are really still doing that? They actually will sometimes yell behind you ‘ay! Ay Shawty! Ay!’ and really expect us to turn around?! It’s hilarious). You actually have to take us out on proper dates. Not to Starbucks and not to 3 Forks. Take us somewhere original. Treat us like you care. Go out of your way just a tiny bit and the rewards are beyond what I can truly explain. When a woman gets treated like a Lady, like a fucking Queen just once in a while, it ignites a flame that’s hard to put out. All the other shit about you that she may have initially thought are washed away and forgotten. Your flaws become her favorite things about you and hers to you. Be the man she wants you to be- the man you always inspired to be- and the woman you will sweep away and be swept away with, will be the most extraordinary woman who loves you truly.

Go to the bars babies, have fun, get drunk and flirt with guys but don’t forget that guy friend of yours that you drug out to the bars so you wouldn’t be alone. Don’t miss out. Oh and don’t go home with those douchebags. You call yourself classy or above that? Don’t fuck that guy. Go home, wash off your makeup, watch some Kardashian reruns, and wait until he calls you the next day. Be a good girl, have a good life.

Go to the bars dudes, have fun, get drunk and flirt with girls just don’t take her home if you actually like her, and treat her with some respect while complimenting her and trying to get her number. We don’t love it when we hear the same line from four different guys, and we will blow you off. Come up with something original and get to actually know us. It’ll do you more good than you think.