Previously on OBG... 1.5

Although inspired in part by a true incident, 

the following story is fictional 

and does not depict any actual person or event.

        

When we last left OBG...

                 

...she was aggravated by job searching (what else is new) but was finding some enjoyment in slaughtering zombies and drinking wine. After a scary brush with death via an alleged intruder scare, she dug out her Taser, loaded it with new batteries and now keeps it on her nightstand (you've been warned). OBG also suffered through a particularly rabid episode of PMS, but no one was harmed (too badly), and life as we know it continues to exist.

After spending a nice, relaxing and peaceful Friday evening alone, drinking wine, watching Killer Klowns from Outer Space, and playing Hexic into the wee hours, we now join OBG on Saturday evening in Bilbo Baggins (again) where she and The G-Man (formerly known as "Gregarious"), are having a couple of beers while they contemplate heading out to watch some unexpected fireworks. They have just received their beers and are about to be seated at the only empty table in the bar...

The G-Man (pointing at the table): Let's grab that table.
OBG: Sure.
Obnoxious Chick who looks like a blonde Mary Alice* (has just walked into the bar with two guys and, upon noticing the empty table, makes a beeline for it, rudely rushing past OBG and The G-Man): Great, an empty table. How convenient. Let's blow past this foolish standing couple with beers in hand so me and my boys men will now be able to rest our fat tired asses as we consume our beverages, which we haven't ordered yet. Because we just walked through the door.**
OBG: What the fuck?
The G-Man: I told you to grab that table.
OBG (shoots angry glare at trio as they sit down).

OBG and The G-Man now find themselves staking out the bar, ready to pounce on some seats that are about to be vacated. They are literally standing behind the soon-to-be empty stools. The people (there are four of them) proceed to pay, get up from their stools, and head towards the exit, momentarily blocking OBG and The G-Man from their now empty stools.

Obnoxious Chick (to one of the two guys with her): Quick. Grab those stools so we can sit at the bar.  
Guy #1 (bolts up from his seat and proceeds to dive onto the stool OBG has her hand on): Oh. (Looks at OBG and The G-Man) Did you want to sit here?
OBG: Uh... yeah. We did.
The G-Man: Why do you think we're standing here?
OBG: Isn't it enough that you totally stole our table?***
Guy #1 (Timidly returning to his table, about four feet away): Oh.

OBG and The G-Man proceed to be seated at the bar, OBG on the left, The G-Man on the right, beers in hand, and return to their conversation. OBG soon feels a tap on her left shoulder.

Obnoxious Chick (pointing at a stool to the right of The G-Man which is presently occupied by the murse of the man seated to the right of the murse's stool): Do you think you can move down a stool so we can have your stool?
OBG (taking a sip from her beer without looking up): No. That stool's takin'.
Obnoxious Chick: Oh.

OBG and The G-Man return to their conversation and beers. OBG suddenly feels a disturbance within her personal space on her left. OBG turns to see what the fuck is going on. Obnoxious Chick, Guy #1 and Guy #2 have succeeded in snagging another stool from another table and Guy #1 is attempting to push the stool into a space half the size of the stool and knocking OBG's stool and her elbow in the process.

OBG (shoots angry glare at trio).
Guy #1 (Showing some fear, to his credit): Can you move over so we can sit?
OBG (Displaying an immense amount of patience, to her credit): No. I can't move over any further. (Proceeds to demonstrate and succeeds in moving her stool far enough over to get her leg stuck between her stool and The G-Man's stool) Fu-uck.
Gregarious (completely oblivious to the going ons to the left of OBG): What are you doing? Here let me move over for you.
In-Head OBG: Gee, thanks. Where were you 30 seconds ago?

Approximately two beers later and numerous snide, sideways stares from the Seat-Stealing trio, OBG and The G-Man have now been joined by SMcG, JMarg, JMarg's parents and brother, and Mr. and Mrs. Jessepeake. SMcG and JMarg are celebrating their recent marriage. Recent as in, it just happened. As in, they literally just walked up from the waterfront where they exchanged their vows with a Justice of the Peace (FYI, but not really relevant: OBG and The G-Man met SMcG through Unfortunate One and have only hung a couple of times together, which is why OBG and The G-Man were not in attendance at the ceremony. In fact, the only people who were in attendance were the ones who just entered the bar). SMcG is currently introducing everyone.

OBG (looks over at The G-Man and notices that he is on his phone. Again.): Are you looking up the fireworks?
The G-Man: What? Oh, no. I'm making arrangements with the guys for hockey next weekend.
OBG: What? Seriously? Is that something you need to do now?
The G-Man: Well I have to start early if I want people to play.
OBG (gestures towards SMcG, who is trying to make introductions): Uh. We're kind of in the middle of something. Isn't that kind of rude?
The G-Man (puts phone away): Oh. Yeah.

Next time on OBG...

...will The G-Man ever learn to keep the phone in his pocket during social situations? Did OBG get to see the fireworks this time? (Editor's Note: She did. Sort of.) How many times did OBG have Marilyn moments while walking over the floor vent at Bilboa Baggins before she learned to hold her skirt down on the way to the bathroom? (Editor's Note: Much to the entertainment of the bar, as the number of beers she consumed increased, her awareness of the vent decreased.) Was OBG's hangover the next day severe enough to keep her from getting out of the house?

Stay tuned for the next episode of OBG, where all of these questions will be answered. Or none of them. It could go either way. But hopefully it will be more exciting than this episode. One can only dream. 

* By no means am I trying to insult Mary Alice. I happen to really like Mary Alice as well as her style. I was merely trying to give you a picture of the Obnoxious Chick.
** Funny story, the girl sitting at the table next to the Seat-Stealing Trio saw the scene go down and snidely asked to the Obnoxious Chick, "You do know you aren't going to get table service, right? You have to go to the bar to order your drinks." I wanted to hug her after seeing the look of disgust on Obnoxious Girl's face.

*** Obviously he didn't get the PMS memo.

In other news... Life's got me down. Wait. That's not news.

     

I had the best intentions for today today. I was going to get up early, have a cup of coffee, go to the gym, maybe do some window shopping...

And the day started out alright. I was up at 9:00am (okay, maybe more like 9:30), and I was all motivated to start my day. I made a cup of coffee, toasted an English muffin, and then I sat down to enjoy my breakfast. I wisely decided that while I was consuming said breakfast it would be a great opportunity to do some apartment searching. And maybe some job searching. 

And then fast forward two hours and I found myself still job searching and apartment searching and nowhere closer to getting out of the house and to the gym. And I realize that I'm still wearing the same skirt I've been wearing every day for a week (did I sleep in it last night?). I'm unshowered. There's laundry to do (as evident by the two-sizes too big, borderline granny-panties I'm wearing). And I have absolutely no desire nor motivation to leave the house today. Again. What's the point? I have nowhere to go.

I've become aggravated by all the searching taking place in my life right now. Job searching, apartment searching (soul-searching). I mean, which should come first? The new place to live or the new job? On one hand, I'm dead broke and could really use some income. Pronto. On the other hand, I don't really want to get a waitressing job in Alexandria only to find myself moving to Arlington. Or what if I get a job in Arlington or Falls Church or DC and end up in Fairfax or Vienna? 

However, I still have the $300 car payment ever month and the $90 car insurance payment. And why am I paying $90 a month for car insurance anyways? I've never been in an accident, I don't have any tickets... Now that I think about it, my insurance company probably still thinks I live where I lived three years ago when I bought the car. And they probably still think I'm driving 40 miles to work every day. They probably don't know that I'm unemployed and that I hardly drive at all anymore. I should probably look into that... If only I could remember who my carrier is...

Thank god I had my undergrad student loans deferred (again) until November. You know, 'cause I'm unemployed. Lord knows how much extra interest I've racked up over the years. I have no idea what the status of my grad school loans are. I can't even remember who my lender is anymore since that seems to change every month. And I have no idea what address that correspondence goes to.

I have unanswered emails from weeks ago. I have unanswered text messages and unchecked voice mails. "What's the point?" I wonder. I have no news to share with anyone. I'm no more closer to accomplishing anything than I was two months ago. The only difference in my life is my zip code, and that's not really news nor is it unexpected. "Oh, you moved? Again?" Yeah, pretty much.

This morning I received an email from my dad (I can't remember the last time I spoke to him. Or saw him) informing me that he's in the last steps of selling his house. The house I grew up in. The house he built. My eyes stung a bit when I first read that, but then I thought, "Eh. I haven't lived in that house for 15 years." Plus, it's not like I had any intention of stepping foot in it again anyways. Whatever. I guess if his fiance is happy he's selling the house he lived in with his first two wives and their children, then by all means, make the bitch woman happy. I should probably give Twin a call though and see how she's taking the news. Maybe later.

So what now? I have resumes to be rewritten, cover letters I need to write, references I need to dig up... A comfortable bed and satellite TV I need to resist. *Sigh* This is my life. If you could call it that.

On a positive note, I recovered from PMS just in time to have a really good weekend. If I can find the motivation, maybe I'll tell you all about it later. I have a very funny story that involves long, gnarly hair and an unidentified creepy crawly. We'll see how the day goes.

Another Goddamn I ♥ Etsy post. Deal with it.

       

If you've been paying attention AT ALL this week, you may have noticed that I'm feeling, uh, under the weather this week, so-to-speak. I've been snippy, cranky, miserable. Hell, I even had the audacity to give a totally uncalled for geography lesson to people I don't even know. In other words, I've been a raging bitch, which is why I'm dedicating this edition of I ♥ Etsy to the wonderfulness of this past week.  

(And, holy shit, how did it become the weekend already? Weren't we just here?)

I should probably wear this as a warning sign.

DianasTreasures

Cute but crazy, just like me.

CuteIsHell

This is what I'm doing inside my head.

jshirts

This is a pretty accurate representation too.

osarusan

Wearing this button and pointing to it at opportune moments

would probably be nicer than screaming it out loud, right?

EcoOdd

I should probably pick some of these up to give out

at the end of the week.

MaiKai

And this showed up when I did a search for "PMS".

Wearing this would certainly make me feel prettier.

KvellCreations

What makes you feel better during that delicate time of month?

I wasn't going to blog today, but...

    

I needed to tell you about this. Remember back when, when I told you about Out of Print? And remember how I told you about how great their customer service is? I mean, really, it is. And remember how I had ordered a shirt and was concerned about receiving it before I moved? Yeah, well Jeff was able to get it to me THE DAY BEFORE I moved. How awesome is that?

Any ways, I wanted to inform you all that there is a giveaway for Out of Print tees happening at Sweeps4Bloggers, and there are about a million different ways you can earn bonus entries. I'm pretty positive I have no chance of winning another tee, since there are a gazillion people entered, but I had to share, because, as I previously mentioned, I love Out of Print. Any company that has such phenomenal customer service and contributes to charity deserves to be talked about. A lot. 

Oh, and here's a bonus, (I was going to save this for Random Shit Tuesday, but I'll share it here too), a pic of me in my tee. You're welcome.

I love the strategically placed sun, but we'll discuss that more on Tuesday.

World peace can be obtained by curing PMS. I'm a genius.

  

You know, that way men won't have to keep coming up with excuses to get out of the house during that time of month.

"Sorry, honey. I would love to sit here and listen to you berate and belittle me, but in case you didn't notice, there's a war going on. I'm fighting for your freedom, after all. Well, not yours, because you're a woman and technically speaking, you belong to me... What...? Why...? What are you doing? Put down that red-hot fire poker. Okay, okay, I'm leaving. I'll see you in 18 months. Unless I die (oh, please, dear god, let me die). Love you!"

Well, the world is safe once again. I was able to find some PMS meds yesterday. Granted, it required going out to a Target in, well, I'm not really sure where I was. I do know that I've never been in a sketchier Target before though. It was like I was in Walmart or something. Either they (this particular Target) are closing up shop or they're doing a huge remodel, whatever, but the place was a wreck. Oh, and everything was on clearance. 

At any rate, I found my drugs. People need not die now. Feel free to send Target a letter of appreciation for saving your lives.

On a very similar note, and really, the whole point of this post, have you ever really read the boxes these happy, pretty pills come in? Well, I did. Luckily for you, you don't need to. I took the liberty of highlighting some items of note. You're welcome.

Hope you're all doing your best to beat the heat! I'm off to do some more job searching. *sigh*

RST: Movies, Xbox, and trespassers,

It's Tuesday, which means, time again for another Random Shit Tuesday! 

    

My randomness...

The Blogger commenting snafu appears to be resolved.

***

I love tomatoes. Love 'em! Just thought that needed to be said.

***

The National Harbor features Movies on the Potomac every Sunday night. This month's theme is 80's Classics. The line-up? Ghost Busters, The Goonies, Back to the Future, and Gremlins. Do I need to say more?

***

I've been playing a lot of Xbox recently. More specifically, I've been playing a lot of Left 4 Dead 2. For those of you who are unaware, this is a zombie killing game. Let's forget for a moment that video games make me very violent and cause me to curse... a lot, they also have another affect on me. 

In any given location, I now find myself scoping out the exits, the dark corners and the prime zombie killing spots. I look for weapons and possible barriers. I evaluate the people around me for both mental and physical weaknesses, thus determining who will become a teammate, and who will become bait. You know, for when the zombies strike. 

 Hold on tight. These fuckers like to ride you. And ride hard they do.

I hear a kid squeal and I whip my head around and say, "Holy shit. That sounds like a Jockey. Where is it?" I hear a woman sobbing and I freeze and whisper, "Whoa. Shhh. It's a witch. Don't disturb her. Those things are vicious."

I should probably put the controller down for a while.

***

I'm currently living in a hugemongo 3-story house. We're talking a house so big all of my previous residences could fit inside it (not all at once, of course). We're talking 3,500+ sq. ft. Huge, folks, huge. I'm not bragging about this, trust me. I never, ever wanted to live in a house like this, in such a severely impersonal housing development. It sucks. It also happens to be "temporary" so for the moment, I make do. 

 This is the kind of house that horror movies are set in. A serial killer's wet dream.

Last night (we're talking after midnight here, so I guess, technically, it was really early this morning), I was watching TV in the living room and writing my latest Previously on OBG post while watching cheesy, late night movies and TV (read: Hook and That 70's Show). At some point, I heard a noise coming from the kitchen that sounded kind of, sort of like a bump, or a knock (please note, there was only one other person and a dog in the house at the time, and both were tucked away, upstairs, fast asleep). As nighttime TV viewing can often be freak-out, paranoia time, I chalked the noise up to my wild imagination and returned my attention back to my laptop.

Then I heard a noise that sounded like a door closing. Or opening. At this point I became slightly concerned about whether or not we locked the back door after grilling that evening. I muted the TV, sat really, really still, and, hearing no other noises, I once again chalked it up to my imagination and the surround sound speakers in the living room. After a couple more mystery noises from the kitchen (which is in plain sight from the living room as are both the front and back doors), I heard nothing more. I eventually shut things down, double-checked the door locks and went upstairs to bed.

When I went downstairs this morning, Gregarious insisted on showing me something outside. We went outside, and there, plain as day, were muddy shoe tracks across the driveway. It appeared that they came from the back of the house, went up to the garage, and then across the driveway to the side of the house.

Needless to say, I WAS FREAKED THE FUCK OUT!

At this point I filled Gregarious in on my experience the previous evening. Before Gregarious left for work, I made sure I had a fresh battery in my taser, and he showed me where his shotgun lives and brought his machete out from the closet (I can only assume in the event that zombies show up as Gregarious is well aware of my melee zombie-killing skills). 

 Coach's zombie-slaughtering weapon of choice is, of course, the baseball bat.

And now I'm holed up in my room, armed and dangerous. I'll be here all day folks. At least until someone comes home. Then I might wander down to the kitchen for some food.

Previously on OBG... 1.4

(the following should be read like... well, however you feel like reading it. You're all adults. Use your imagination.)

Although inspired in part by a true incident, 

the following story is fictional 

and does not depict any actual person or event.
        

When we last left OBG...

         

...she had just moved to Northern Virginia (again) and was trying to adjust to life in an unfamiliar place surrounded by unfamiliar things (again). She was suffering from severe self-doubt about her recent decisions and was feeling totally bummed out. Dude. 

      

We now join OBG on Saturday evening, July 3rd, in Bilboa Baggins, a restaurant/bar in Old Town Alexandria, where she is having dinner with Gregarious, Thing Two, and SarahCC. They were seated at their table ten minutes earlier and have yet to be served. Gregarious and Thing Two have their phones out. Again.

OBG (directed at the table): What are you all getting?

Gregarious (typing away and not looking up from the phone): Huh?
Thing Two (typing away and not looking up from the phone): What?
SarahCC: I haven't decided yet. Every time I think I know what I"m getting, I look at the menu again and change my mind.
OBG: Yeah, me too. The pizza looks really good, but I'm afraid if I don't get something more substantial I'm just going to be hungry in a couple of hours again.
Thing Two (glancing up from phone): Shouldn't we have been served by now? (briefly looks around but soon returns to phone)
Gregarious (looking up from phone): Yeah, at least take our beer order. I want a beer. (briefly looks around but is soon back to the phone)
In-Head OBG: Whoa. I can't believe how rude they're being. I can't believe Thing Two invited SarahCC to join us and is spending the whole time on his phone. I don't even know her. I feel bad for her. Looks like I'm going to have to make conversation with her, which is fine, but I still can't get over the fact that she had to introduce herself to us in the car and now we're left to our own devices on the conversation.
OBG (to SarahCC): So you live in Crystal City, huh? How do you like it?
SarahCC: Well, it's nice, but I really want to move into DC because that's where all my friends live and right now it's a hassle to go out with them because it takes me so much longer on the Metro to get to them. But it's cool. Not like Clarendon, which is totally yuppy.
In-Head OBG: Fuck. That's where Gregarious wants to live. I DO NOT want to live in yuppy-town. This is NOT what I signed up for. Where do all the creative people like me live? I was totally promised Alexandria when I moved down here. This is such a bait-and-switch scam.
Thing Two (briefly looking up from phone): That's where these two want to move too.
In-Head OBG: Say what now? Uh-uh. Oh, this is not going to go well for me. I miss NY.
Gregarious (still thumbing away on the phone): Huh? Oh, yeah, Clarendon. Yeah, it seems like a nice place to live. Either that or the Fairfax/Vienna area. As long as it's still on the Metro line and not too far for me to drive to work if I end up working in Ashburn.
In-Head OBG: Oh, fuck no! I was promised Alexandria or DC. I'm having really, really bad feelings about this. Where is our server? I need a beer, ASAP.

After an adventurous evening spent wandering under the Woodrow Wilson bridge, trying to catch a glimpse of the fireworks that Gregarious assured the rest of the party were occurring (which you will hear about at a later time), and after a repeat of pretty much the same scenario played out above, except at the Columbia Firehouse, we now join OBG on the 4th of July doing something she swore to herself last 4th of July she would never do again- attend a BBQ further south down I-95 in Fredericksburg, VA. She is now on her second beer, sitting with Night Ranger, watching a riveting game of cornhole.

In-Head OBG: I can't believe I'm missing out on fireworks in DC to attend a frickin' pool party with Gregarious' hockey team. This is lame. Where is he any way? I hate the 4th of July. All I care about are the fireworks. That's all the 4th of July is good for. Why did I let Gregarious talk me into this? I should have gone on my own and met Thing Two in DC for fireworks. I don't even know anyone here. Well, except for Night Ranger. And House, but trying to talk to them is weird. Stupid Virginia...

[pop.]

In-Head OBG (looking around): What was that?
OBG (to Night Ranger): What was that?
Night Ranger: Huh? I didn't hear anything.

[pop. pop.] 

In-Head OBG (looking around): There it was again. That sounded like... fireworks.

[pop. pop. pop. pffffffzzzzzzz.] 

In-Head OBG (bolting out of her chair, frantically looking around): It was. I'd recognize that sound anywhere. It... was...
OBG (shouting at the top of her lungs): FIREWORKS!!!
Night Ranger (visibly startled): What the...
OBG: It's... FIREWORKS!!! (looking around frantically) WHERE ARE THEY? (looks right) WHERE ARE THEY? (looks left) I KNOW I HEARD THEM. FIREWORKS! FIREWORKS! FIREWORKS! Wait... (tilts head and listens)

[pop. pop. poppity-pop. pffffffzzzzzzz.] 

OBG: OH MY GOD, FIREWORKS!!! THEY'RE COMING FROM THE FRONT OF THE HOUSE! LOOK OUT! LOOK OUT! (knocks over old folks and children on a mad pursuit to the front of the house) FIREWORKS!!! (arrives at front of house)

[silence]

In-Head OBG (desperately looking around in confusion): What? Where are they? I know I heard them...

[pop. pop.]

In-Head OBG (jerks head around): There they are again. Where are they coming from?

[pop.  pffffffzzzzzzz.]

OBG: OH MY GOD, FIREWORKS!!! THEY'RE COMING FROM THE BACK OF THE HOUSE! LOOK OUT! LOOK OUT! (pushes crippled man into pool on the way to the back of the house. steps on fat, old dog's tail)

[yelp]

OBG: GET OUT OF MY WAY, STUPID MUTT, IT'S... FIREWORKS!!!

[pop. pop. poppity-pop. pffffffzzzzzzz.] 

OBG: FIREWORKS!!! BRIGHT, SPARKLY, COLORFUL... FIREWORKS!!! (arrives at back of house)

[silence]

In-Head OBG (desperately looking around in confusion): What? Where are they? I know I heard them...

[pop. pop. pop. bang.] 

In-Head OBG (jerks head around): There they are again. Where the fuck are they coming from? I must see the fireworks!

[pop. pop. poppity-pop. pffffffzzzzzzz.] 

OBG (short of breath, foaming at the mouth, leering at the party guests): WHERE... ARE... THEY? I MUST... HAVE... MY... FIREWORKS!!! (runs back and forth across the back yard, over to the side yard, back to the front yard, into the house for a potty break, back to the back yard, up to the front yard where she discovers the party has relocated)
Gregarious (to OBG): Look, The Hosts are going to set off fireworks.
OBG (stops short): What? (looks around in an obvious state of confusion)
Gregarious (pointing at the hosts who are carrying brown paper bags): Look. They have fireworks. They're going to start lighting them off. And they have sparklers too.
OBG (wiping foam from chin): Whowhatnow?
Gregarious (with an exasperated sigh): Fireworks. They. Are. Lighting. Fireworks. See? You'll get to see some after all.
In-Head OBG (looking around at crowd, watching The Hosts light bottle rockets): But...

[high pitched whistle. pop.]

[crowd cheers.]

OBG (shaking head and scoffing): Man, some people get all worked up over some of the littlest things, huh? I just don't get. I'm gonna go get another beer.

Next time on OBG...

... did OBG ever get to see real fireworks? (Editor's note: Uh... no. But she was promised them next year. For real. The promise was sealed with blood. So it has to happen.) Did OBG ever pick up her new glasses? (Editor's Note: She did) Will OBG finally be happy with her new glasses? (Editor's Note: Uh... yeah! They totally rock!) Will OBG ever return to regular blogging? Has OBG lost her creativity for good? How did OBG end up under the Woodrow Wilson bridge? And how are Loki and Mrs. Lovett doing? And what possessed OBG to paint her toenails white? And what in the name of the sanity  of all who know OBG happened to all the Midol/Pamprin products of the world? Is it some sort of conspiracy?

Stay tuned for the next episode of OBG, where all of these questions will be answered. Or none of them. It could go either way. But hopefully it will be more exciting than this episode. One can only dream.

Editor's Note: No animals, old people, children or cripples were hurt in the making of this episode of OBG. Gregarious, however, got run over by a shopping cart in the middle of a Bloom grocery store. Minor injuries were sustained and lessons were, most likely, still not learned.

PLEASE NOTE: The Blogger commenting snafu appears to be resolved.