Awkward & Uncomfortable: Facebook Status.

I was browsing FB.... and came across this choice nug for A&U moments....:

....I don't need to explain. I laughed then.... and I guess I'm still laughing now. haha. Half the reason I die about facebook is because of the type of shit this Scarlet Mae Brook likes to pull. Like, no. I don't want to win a free i-pad, or answer your fucking secret question, or play honesty box, or attend your shitty bands' concert at a cafe in a town that I don't live anywhere near.... and! Not to mention, I get logged out every 3 seconds when I'm on from my computer anyways.... Listen, I digress. But todays A&U goes to Scarlet Mae Brook, you self promoting, advertising, shit-posting-to-peoples-wall, you!

No. Bueno.

I should have taken the time to block the names out, sure. But why bother, clearly they were ok to have this awkward as shit convo on facebook. When I see these choice nugs I can't help but send them to someone. Facebook really kills me. This is sort of why. hahahaha.

Frienemies.

Jello Shots and me are frienemies. Like, I freakin swear to god, every time I see her, I only remember the good times, and how awesome and fun she is, I forget how much of a little bitch Jello Shots is, until she stabs me in the back a few hours later. I shouldn't blame her, she can't help her nasty attitude, I should know better by now, but I'm a sucker. 

A couple weekends ago me, LA and K.beau decided to go out, it was last minute and one of those necessary outings, so whatever. We go to this place called Alibi. The first time we went the weekend before it was (literally) a hot tranny mess in there, so why we decided to try again, I don't know. In hindsight I think that whore of a friend, Jello Shots was luring me there, calling to my subconscious. Oh well, we'll never. know.

Things start off relatively good! like yay, we're out, we look cute, we're having fun, and like, the DJ is kind of good all is well. And honestly, as far as I know, it was a great night.... I later (the next day) am kindly sent pictures from K.beau. And like... 

Dead. Obligatory SubwayEatFresh stop, clearly I was feeling the whole healthy lifestyle because I got them apples.... and passed out in the 24 hour Subway. 

Top Night.

Email Forwards.

I got this e-mail forward at work once. I really hate that sort of a thing...at my last just people in the office who I never even talked to would send me them. The ones that irked me where the scary ones like "little girl is dying, then God sent an Angel and she lived. Message: be an angel. Now send this to 10 of your friends." The fuck outta here. That shit is terrifying to me on some end-of-days, 2012 level of fear.
Anyways, at my current office there is a staff size of 13. 5 are women. I have next to nothing in common with these girls, but I always try...! So I get a forward from the admin. Assistant girl about how being a woman in the bathroom sucks. Because I don't have any other real way to engage with these girls. The least I can do is read an reply with the standard " LMAO. OMG, girl! All of that was SO true! :-)" so, I read the forward. It goes through this long (and decidedly not funny,) series of unfortunate events like the ever-so-scary; "there's not toilet paper in here" but the smart and savvy woman in the email had a "crumpled Kleenex" in her purse-- treat! Or how "squatting over the urine covered toilet is the only for of exercise of the day". There was a part in the email where the lady sees that the stall has no hook for her purse and so she is left with no choice. She puts the purse around her neck. I distinctly remember rolling my eyes about that. I mean.... It's just kind of really stupid....err.... And practical.
After seeing SATC2 with SM & Jcam in Durham, we went to the bathroom before we left. I check every stall and each of them looks like a Port-o-potty, which is alarming because last time I checked, the movie theater was an indoor facility. I thought I'd wandered into a music festival...or a construction site. Anyways, I find the most clean stall and you know proceed to go in. I notice there is no hook and I had the A-HA moment where I remembered the e-mail chain at work. So my genius ass puts the bag around my neck. Well. The momentum of the swinging bag (that, and me trying to take a picture of my bathroom antics) caused me to lose balance, pissing all over everything but the actual water in the toilet. Shamed to death, basically. Luckily there was enough toilet paper from every other trashy bitch who some how missed the bowl and threw theirs on the floor, that I felt no real guilt about the pee incident. (PS: no pee got on me). I guess those work forwards do have some merit after all....

I Did a Bad Thing in North Carolina.

What the hell am I gonna do. I came here with my running shoes (unused...meh.) my trusty black heels, my moccasins, and a pair of sandals.
2 weeks later.... I leave with this (4 pair not pictured. Please. Don't judge....)
Ladies and Gentleman. I have a problem. Not the glaringly obvious addiction to shopping (although I consider it sport.), but rather. What the fuck kinda Houdini magic do I need to do to get back to New York?
Flight is at 1:30pm. I've got 12 hours to literally make a miracle occur.