11 posts tagged “the girls”

Leslie is in town, and she and I met up with Isaac at the pub.  It was a sloooow night; there were maybe thirty people in the entire place, and it was karaoke night, too!  I remember years ago, you could barely move around on karaoke nights.  Things change.  I'm sure between the smoking ban and gas prices, no one really bothers driving over anymore. 

Had to grab food afterward.  Leslie totally bitched out some drunk-ass teenager who tried to sit at our table...she even threatened to call the cops.  It was insane.  And hilarious.  I told her she was a bad-ass.

One more day until Austin!

Go! Go! Go!

That's a quote from Kristi, uttered while we were all sitting in a Whataburger parking lot at 2am, too scared to go home because we'd just been completely freaked out by The Strangers.  I have a splitting headache now and I'm afraid to turn off the lights and go to bed, lest a scary man with a potato sack over his face sneak in and kill me for the fun of it.

In other news: apparently, I still look young enough to have 18-year-olds give me their numbers.  Cute ones, the kind that shop at Hollister, but like I've mentioned before, if I can't have a (legal) drink with them, I'm not even going to go there.  He acted and looked a bit older, was very nice, and we had a hilarious conversation about music (he made fun of me and I made fun of him), but thanks to MySpace and the fact that he put his last name on the little slip of paper, I looked him up, found his age, and quickly deposited his number in the garbage.   Sorry.  *shrug*  It's still quite flattering, though, and lifted my mood enough to make my shift go by super fast.

I really should be asleep, but I know I'll end up huddled under the covers with a pair of kitchen shears in my hand.  As if that's going to do any good.

I think this is a pretty good list of our plans in the capital next month.

• visit my sister
• go shopping
• watch some live music
• get trashed on Sixth Street, then try some public transportation
  
• stay in a kick-ass four star hotel (and it was CHEAP)
  
• watch some bats at the Congress Ave. bridge and try not to get pooped on
• more shopping
• swimming (our hotel has the largest pool in the city!)
• take corny touristy photos
• oooh, we should play some frisbee golf!
  
• walk a lot
• shop some more
• make fun of locals
• see some celebrities?  Austin seems to be a hip place right now.
  
• sit in a coffee shop until we've "solved the world's problems"

If anyone wants to tag along or meet us there, let us know so we can sneak you into the hotel in our luggage.

Let's flash back momentarily to a Friday night in January.  Kristi and Lindsay took me out for my first official Girls' Night Out.  I hadn't yet been clubbing, and we ended up sitting at a table and taking in the scene.  At some point, a few drinks later, I lost track of them, and was manhandled onto the dance floor by some skeezy old guy with a mullet and rank beer breath.  I was not happy.  I escaped after about a minute, apologetically explaining that I had promised the girls that I would stick close by, but he somehow managed to track me down and give me his phone number.  I pitched it in the garbage bin as soon as he turned around.  Yuck.

We'll flash forward a bit, this time into April, I believe.  A large group of us, all girls except for Anita's husband Richard, are out at the same club, dancing and playing pool.   The same guy came over and as soon as I saw him, I hightailed it into the ladies' room, leaving some of my pals confused as to why I had suddenly run away.  On the way, I passed Kristi and she had seen him, too, and nodded in agreement.  A few minutes later, she came in and said that he was gone, but not before asking Richard if any of us purty ladies were single.  Thankfully, Richard said something along the lines of, "They're all married or gay."  God bless you, Richard.  I borrowed Jess' wedding band for extra insurance in case he came back.  I doubt he would have remembered me, anyway...he had been pretty far gone that night in January.

Today, while stopping at my favorite gas station on the way to work to pick up some gum and a drink, a man cornered me by the chips and bean dip.  I recognized him immediately, and tried my best to shove my large sunglasses back over my eyes.

"I don't mean to be rude, but you sure are a beautiful woman."

Oh, god.  Dammitdammitdammitdammit.

I think I said thank you, but my survival instincts kicked in and I somehow managed to run to the counter, pay for my purchases, and get the hell out of there.  It's a blur.   I do remember calling Kristi while turning onto Front Street...I had to tell someone, and she was one of the only ones who knew the whole story.  I really, really, hope he didn't recognize me, and I hope he's not intelligent enough to figure out that I frequent that gas station.  I really like that place, and I know the people there.  At least I'd have backup in case he decided to put his greasy paws on me again.

Why can't I run into the hot ones?

Dammit, guys...those Activia smoothies have turned me into a self-propelled fart machine.  I'm coming off of my seat over here!

Way back on the very first day of 2008, I made a list of resolutions that I told myself I would try to accomplish this year.  I'm proud to say that I've been able to cross out almost everything, and I'm slowly working on what's left.  I'm not counting the "stop smoking" one yet....not until I've gone a month without, and it's only been, oh, five hours.  I could save around $20 a week if I'm able to quit, money that would should be spent on gas or tucked away for my teeth.  I'm expecting you people to bitch-slap me if I screw up.   I'm sick of smelling like an ashtray and not being able to breathe.  I though I was going to die while jogging tonight.
 

Aubrey's WANT! List 2008
(in no particular order)

Ehn! Ehn!

* confidence and grace
* a safe car (you can make it, Charley-Girl!!)
* platform bed, preferably full/queen
* learn to crochet something other than a scarf
* drive around Texas aimlessly
* a regular manicure
* lots of funky earrings
* lots of shoes and purses
* learn to dance, then dance in public
* catch up with old friends
* teeth in reasonably healthy condition
* stop smoking
* exercise regularly
* another great job that makes me happy
* the ability to save some money/get out of debt
* spend more time with family
* spend less time worrying and stressing
* to see my friends and family happy and healthy
* get back into school
* travel
* have fun!!!

This is the bikini I'm after. Cute!

I'm determined to get into a bikini this summer.  If it's even a slight possibility that I'm going to go floating down the Guadalupe and going to Austin City Limits (F*ck yeah, bitches!  Who's with me?) in September, and maybe even the Voodoo Music Experience (if I can find someone who's awesome enough to go with me) I need to look good.  I suppose I could wear one now, but why not push myself a little harder, eh?  Toning up is my main concern; I want a little less flab around my stomach and arms.  My legs and butt are fine...no problems there.  I need to do more sit-ups and get back into my yoga, so that I can build up my upper body.  It's just a matter of relearning the asanas and sticking to it.

Oh, and thank you, Mr. Man at the Starbucks drive-thru...putting all that extra whipped cream on my frappuccino tonight was awesome, since it's the last one I'm allowing myself for a little while.     

So here are some funny pictures from tonight.  More later.  Must get to bed.

As I sit here, eating my cheesecake chimichangas from Taco Bueno (oh, they're like an orgasm wrapped in a warm, deep-fried pastry), I realize how incredibly awesome it is that Jess figured out over beers and cigarettes tonight, "Hey, we're like a low-budget version of Sex and the City!"  And since we're all fans, we figure this is, as Martha Stewart would say, A VERY GOOD THING.

I also realize that I have completely canceled out the past two days of strenuous walking with the girls over at UT by eating the above-mentioned better-than-hot-sex-with-a-stranger (giggity-giggity) goodies.  Shit hell.

How cool is it that Ugly Betty sampled a crapload of new Madonna tracks in last night's finale?  I have a theory, and most people seem to agree: Betty picked neither Henry (boo) or Gio (BIG YAY!  I LOVE GIO!), but instead decided to strike out on her own and discover herself.  Well, I would have been all for Rome, but I would rather her ditch both of them than go to Tuscon with Henry...boooo-ring!  *checks watch* Is it time for the season premiere yet?  There was one track at the very end, by Madonna, that was actually on her last album, not the latest one, and it was so awesome that I might have to buy it online or something...badass.

From "Jump":
There’s only so much you can learn in one place
The more that I wait, the more time that I waste

I haven’t got much time to waste, it’s time to make my way
I’m not afraid of what I’ll face, but I’m afraid to stay
I’m going down my own road and I can make it alone
I'll work and I'll fight, Till I find a place of my own

Are you ready to jump?
Get ready to jump
Don’t ever look back, oh baby
Yes, I’m ready to jump
Just take my hands
Get ready to jump!

We learned our lesson from the start, my sisters and me
The only thing you can depend on is your family
And life’s gonna drop you down like the limbs of a tree
It sways and it swings and it bends until it makes you see

Are you ready to jump?
Get ready to jump
Don’t ever look back, oh baby
Yes, I’m ready to jump
Just take my hands
Get ready to, are you ready?

There’s only so much you can learn in one place
The more that you wait, the more time that you waste

I'll work and I'll fight till I find a place of my own
It sways and it swings and it bends until you make it your own

I can make it alone(my sisters and me)

Are you ready to jump?
Get ready to jump
Don’t ever look back, oh baby
Yes, I’m ready to jump
Just take my hands
Get ready to, are you ready?

I started sneezing as soon as I crossed the border into Louisiana, and I stopped when I crossed back over eight hours later.  Huh.

Today was my orientation from the bank, and I had to drive, oh, an hour and a half each way to sit in a room with six other new hires and fill out paperwork.  Riveting.  But everyone was super friendly, I got a free lunch, and I'll be reimbursed for everything.  I start at my branch tomorrow.

Dad's test results came back today.  I got the news when I called my mom to tell her I was on my way back to Tyler.  It's not cancer.  It's a touch of pneumonia, and it's something he can beat.  He's fine, though I still have to keep pushing him to improve his lifestyle.  I may have to start force-feeding him.

I'm still recovering somewhat from Jessica's massive graduation kegger Saturday night.  I was all ready to take lots of incriminating photos.  I get to her house and realize that I've left my memory card at home.  F*ck.  Kristi and some guy named Mike took photos and promised to get them to me.  I got completely trashed on some odd combination of Miller Light, Shiner Bock, Red Bull and Vodka, and Sour Apple Puckers, then proceeded to tell stupid stories and take ten dozen trips to the bathroom, paranoid that the entire party was hovering outside the bathroom window trying to get a glance at my white Irish ass.  I smoked almost an entire pack of cigarettes between the hours of 8pm and 4am (when I had two left, they mysteriously disappeared and I don't know if they were stolen, or I inadvertently mistook them for Pocky and ate them.  It's a little blurry.), and now sound like one of Marge Simpson's sisters.  Scary stuff.  There was one almost-fight, one guy passed out in his car, one botched trip to the pub to "rescue" a douchebag, and a two-hour session of acoustic "jams".  Kumbaya, my ass.  All in all, it was quite a fun evening/morning.

I am so tired. 

Oh, and apparently, a large bird of prey decided that my helpless little car was the perfect spot for a drive-by shitting.  The pattern reminds me of a Spin-Out shirt I had in the fourth grade.

Carrie Bradshaw I ain't, but the more I see of this town and the dating scene that I've forced myself back into, the more jaded I become, and the more I want to write about it.  I don't want to nitpick all the psychological aspects of it, like Carrie...rather, I'd write it as it is, a bit like Laurie Notaro: awkward, frightening, alcohol-drenched, and piss-your-pants hilarious. 

I'd write about the group of people standing outside the club one night, being drilled by police, and one of them keeps shrieking about "Rhonda!  Rhonda!"  We figure she is talking about her ride, but this "Rhonda" is nowhere to be seen.  The girls and I are standing around, then a big SUV pulls up with another woman hanging out the passenger window.  She's flailing somewhat, and though I cannot remember how we put two and two together, we realized that this 45-year-old woman with her boobs half-hanging out of her shirt was Rhonda, and we directed her to the proper party:)

See?  That stuff is priceless.  I'm going to start bringing a notepad with me when we go out. 

There is little that compares with people-watching at nightclubs here in my hometown.  We're located in a dry county (heh, I accidentally wrote "cunty"...that's amusing), so you have to drive out to "The Line" to score booze, or else sit in a restaurant or become a patron of our many fine drinking establishments.  (<-----that last bit is dripping with sarcasm, FYI.)

One thing that we noticed last night is the understated hilarity of cowboys trying to gyrate in their skin-tight jeans and checkered shirts to songs such as Flo Rida's "Low" or The Pussycat Dolls' "Don't Cha?" 

Oh, my side.  I can't stand it...it's too funny...I have to go pee.

Along the same lines, it is also amusing to watch bar games in which grown men, complete with plungers strapped to their waists in a very suggestive way, race down the dance floor, one of whom plants his face on the ground almost immediately because his boots have no traction.  Ouch.

Mullets are funny.  Also, rat-tails.  There's nothing like a mullet to send a flock of girls running straight into the bathroom. 

Oh, and to the fucker who sidled up and slurred something about "I just saw a group of girls and figured what the hell", you're lucky I didn't go all Shaun of the Dead on you with my pool stick when you stepped on my little toe.  Kiss my ass and go back to your dark little corner. This is girls' night and you're not invited.