What finally made me get some help was an online health survey through TBU’s work. We were bribed to take a survey in exchange for monies. So I did it and answered a bunch of questions and I was like, “Fuck, shit’s going down.” That was the last straw, but there had been months of me perseverating on things I couldn’t change and people’s dumbass decisions I don’t get to make for them. I literally could not stop myself from thinking about all the ways shit was fucked up. So about a month ago I started taking some new medication. I was worried because I didn’t want to become less awesome. I like my biting observations and lack of like for people who are a waste of space on earth. But I also like being able to get things done and sleep soooooo… It was a strategic life move. I’ve noticed that in the last month I’ve had more of a filter. When TBU and I are out I don’t go on about what I don’t like about the people around me, not as much at least. I still think these things, but they don’t come spilling out of my mouth as often. Which begs the question, is it even working if I’m still having these negative thoughts, even though I’m not actually saying anything? It’s all a process and it typically takes between 6 and 8 weeks to see the full effect. I have also noticed that I sleep a lot better these days. TBU says I’m less grumpy. But so far there have been no definitive observations on my more charming qualities.

The Millionizer spent $25 less than her rent on one of her cat’s vet visits today and put her other cat on Prozac yesterday. We are a family of crazy.

Sometimes I’m just like, “What’s Zach Galifianakis up to?” And then I check his facebook page. Which, is clearly not personal but I feel like it could be. And so I check it thinking I could possibly, maybe get a glimpse into the glamorous world of Zach G. But it’s a lie, A LIE!

Remember in 2008 when I almost died of stomach acid poisoning? Well all it started at a Zach Galifianakis show. TBU and I both had a Fat Tire and upon our first sip both exclaimed that it tasted weird, but drank away nonetheless. And we continued drinking so that on our way home (home meaning Ms A’s current manlover’s l0vely apartment in Hillcrest above a restaurant that only serves esoteric hunting game) we harassed the scientology center and yelled about racism on billboards for planned communities. I don’t know exactly what caused my stomach lining malfunction but I blame my own need to get drunk and the Fat Tire that filled that need.

You guys right now, at this point in my life, at 26 years old, after cleaning up my fiance’s food chunks soaked in absinthe and throwing a blanket over a man on the couch,  there are two things in life I recommend. Kings of Leon and Friday Night Lights. That’s it. Yes I know, I’m perpetually a 16 year old but I don’t want to meet the person who can resist this shit.

A bit pretench? Over the top? Doesn’t matter, that guy who is making you feel like you’ve got something in your teeth has got the best voice in music since NKTOB. I downloaded an album not realizing it was live until I wondered what all the hooting and hollering was about and bothered to look at my iPhone. That speaks for the whole band. Two other pluses are that they have songs about road head and lovesick vampires and it makes your giny tickle. So get on track and pick me up some bottles of booze.

Ok and Friday Night Lights. I’m almost ready to promise to stop talking about this but I’m serious, watch it. It’s not all about football, it’s about life and rooting for #7.

That’s number 7, tell me he’s not adorable. Still no? Ok how about now?

Ok well if Matt Saracen working at the Alamo Freeze doesn’t do it for you, then you’re probably more of a #33 kind of whore girl person.

I mean that’s fine if that’s what you’re into, sure Tim Riggins is easy to look at.

But you know he’s overdue for a visit to the clinic. So you have fun with that hot piece of #33.

OK, that’s it, I swear, no more Friday Night Lights but only because I’m sure I’ve convinced you all to watch the first three seasons which are easily accessible on Netflix watch instantly, get it done people! Otherwise we’re not going to have anything to talk about.

Alright. It’s getting down to it. The wedding, adulthood, middle age. Although you wouldn’t know it from the night I had. If I hadn’t bothered to look at a calendar in eight years I would have thought it was freshman year in the dorms, complete with drublic punkeness, getting lost, falling in bushes, throwing up, people longer than your couch sleeping on your couch and passing out before brushing one’s teeth. It doesn’t help this was all done with people I actually went to college with. Ain’t much changed. But that’s good, I love these guys.

I feel like I want to write about my job but I just don’t even know where to start. I just don’t know. It’s not all bad, but this one girl, this one goddamn nasty girl with body acne who picks then looks at her fingers – no! I won’t go any further. Six months then I’m CEO guaranteed.

In writing this post I got side tracked by Kings of Leon you tube videos and I realized that music videos have a completely different language than film or TV. In their effort to include all band members, if you read it like a film it would play with strong homosexual under overtones. Watch Sex On Fire and try not to see it. I dare you.

Side note – the lead singer of Kings recently spoke publicly about his anorexia. Disordered eating club, high five! I mean, I wish you recovery and a sound self image.

Is he not doing it for you? Is this not enough to convince you to listen to things I tell you to listen to? I mean, his voice, my goodness. I imagine it’s like when Ms A first watched Jesus Christ Superstar and got chills. He is that good, they all are. Ok, now I think I can commit to no more KOL talk. I can’t guarantee a time frame but for the remainder of this post, I’m done. How can someone be so beautiful and have the voice he has, unfair. That man got more than his share of good genes. Ok, I’m done, I’m done. But he’s like hard to look at straight on, right?

Sweet TBU is passed out next to me in his clothes, his glasses askew and all oblivious to the blue light from the laptop and the typing. Adorable. It doesn’t hurt that the cat who got high and cost me a $200 vet visit is cuddling with him and purring. My boys!

Me though, I’m not tired. I had half a cup of coffee at 8:30 yesterday morning. So I don’t expect to sleep until Sunday night. Just in time to get a good night’s sleep for work.

Haha, remember when I was obsessed with Brandon Flowers? I’ve moved from mormons to pentecostals. When will a nice hot Atheist boy come along? Geez America, is this all you have to offer me?

Ok, I’m going to end this dinosaur now. But I will tell you what we’re being for Halloween. I will be a Girl Scout, wearing the uniform I wore when I was a Girl Scout. Scarily enough, it pretty much all fits me. TBU is going as Zombie Johnny. As in Zombie Johnny Castle from Dirty Dancing. As in Zombie Patrick Swayze. Too soon?

The Millionizer can see the giggling virgins overlooking me

So Canadian gossip, your favorite kind of gossip!

I don’t know where to start, it was simultaneously all encompassing and totally insignificant. I guess I’ll start by saying TBU has a crush on one of his cousins, he knows I know this and denies it. Maybe crush is too far, it’s more of a need for her to like him. A strong need. As evidenced by him declaring that he is her favorite cousin, to which each and every time she responded with laughter. She never agreed or reciprocated. Really TBU, get a clue.

He wasn’t really flirtatious with her, that I saw anyway, but he did leave me to stay up all night with her. He got upset with me because I was upset with him for leaving me in the cabin while he stayed out with her until 5am. I was like what. the. fuck. soon to be married man? He said that I was ruining his relationship with his family because he was acting different because of me. His relationship with everyone else was exactly as healthy as he left it, I assure you. It was her he was referring to. Long term committed relationships don’t have to mean not having any fun, but there are also people’s feelings involved in those relationships that should be respected. For example, now that we live in San Diego, Savage wants to go surfing with me. Savage and I are completely platonic friends. But if I were to go surfing with Savage I know that it might make TBU not jealous, but uncomfortable. In a way that can’t really be articulated. There is no word for it that I know. We both know that we love each other and that we would never cheat on each other, so that’s not the issue. The issue is simply respect of the other’s feelings and not wanting to do anything that would hurt the other, even if both parties understand that nothing happened. I imagine that TBU knowing that my and Savage’s wet bodies would touch while in the water would bother him. I suspect that TBU would not want Savage to put his arms around me as I fell, because I will fall, or that he would want us to spend our day frolicking on the beach. Not because he doesn’t trust me but because he would feel left out, or something. It just wouldn’t make him feel good. So thus far I have declined the offer, because I want TBU to be secure in the fact that I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, even if it was completely innocent.

TBU doesn’t see his actions in the same way. I don’t know exactly how he sees it but it seems to me that he is always trying to prove a point. Like, “I can get away with this and you shouldn’t be bothered because I say so.” Well I am. When I called him on the whole 5am thing he told me that he was “holding back” so I wouldn’t get jealous. OH WELL. EXCUUUUUUSE ME. I’m sorry you have to hold back from flirting with people in my presence. I am only your fiance after all, don’t let me stop you.

Like when he was ignoring me for some reason (I forget why, it’s hard to keep track of this shit) I started to play horseshoes with his cousins. He really can’t stand it if I have fun without him when he’s trying to make me feel bad. Two girls were swimming and he saw his chance. On his way into the lake he yelled, “Your bathing suit is in the cabin if you want to come in.” Now what do you think the intention behind that remark was? It certainly wasn’t to invite me to swim with him. Because I know where my swimsuit is and I know that you know I know where it is, thankyouverymuch. Plus I’m in the middle of a game. No, he said that so I would know he was going swimming with two girls without me. For some reason he thinks he’s so sly. Is this a TBU thing? I can’t imagine all men who are on the brink of turning 29 are this way.

Whenever I call him on any of this he doesn’t see his actions as a problem, he claims I’m jealous. It isn’t jealousy, but him calling me jealous implies that he thinks there is something I should be jealous of, which instantly puts a shade of suspicion on his actions. I can see why he wants me to be jealous though. Because it’s easy and petty and it releases him from being responsible for his actions. It’s something that makes me the issue instead of him. God forbid he be the issue, then he would have to you know, actually change. In fact, it’s really hard to make me jealous. I guess the only thing I’m ever jealous of is people who are with partners who don’t do this shit.

I know in the last post I said that this cousin girl, Jenna I think I called her, wasn’t the issue and really she’s not. But a lesser issue, aside from TBU acting like a teenager, is that I just don’t like her. And even if TBU didn’t have this whole thing for her, I still wouldn’t like her. She has the exact qualities of this girl who used to be my best friend in elementary school, by high school we were still acquaintances but I had to stop all communication with her because she was so obnoxious.

When I first met Jenna, I saw the similarities but I had no evidence so I went against my gut. Note to self: never go against your gut. She’s one of those people who inexplicably attracts attention at all times. She makes people feel like they are important to her when she wants something but doesn’t reciprocate the friendship. People continue to think she’s the best even though they’re lamenting all the shit she does, how she manipulates them. Evidence, she told one of her cousins that she would give them a bunch of furniture for their new house but that they needed to give her a ride home from the cabin. On the day they were supposed to leave Jenna decided she wanted to sit around and drink martinis for several hours before she would leave. So there was her cousin not being able to drink at happy hour, waiting and waiting, so she could give Jenna a ride, so Jenna would give her some furniture. The whole time the cousin just talked shit about Jenna but wouldn’t leave her there because, well I don’t know why. I guess I’ve grown out of caring if I’m popular, I would’ve left when I felt like it. But this girl is one of those people who manages to convince others that she’s worth their time. When Jenna decided she was drunk enough, she said it was time to go, not the person who was the unwilling designated driver.

So I think that’s what bothers me even more about TBU’s need for this girl to like him. That he’s vying so hard for someone’s attention that in his ordinary life he would laugh at. We would laugh, roll our eyes and stay far away. But for some reason he doesn’t see all this. He thinks they’re close, when it’s obvious to me that she makes everyone feel that way. I guarantee you she doesn’t share the feeling, he’s just someone she sees once a year who she likes to drink with. But really, who doesn’t this girl like to drink with?

I know no relationship is perfect and aside from all this nonsense, life with TBU is pretty fucking awesome. I don’t know what goes on in his mind. There’s some kind of divide, something he’s working out in his head. I don’t know. Does anyone else experience something like this in their relationships? Anyone, anyone?

The Millionizer is gonna go take some pills to not have babies and then some pills to relax

I took the bus today, as I do when I meet TBU for trips to San Francisco. There were a few noticibles. Like, for once I was the only one with my ears plugged into something. And no matter what, I always manage to sit next to the most annoying person on the bus. For 45 minutes I sat next to a girl who compulsively called someone. Like at no point was her phone not connected to her network. By the time one call ended she was already starting another conversation. I was tempted to get on my phone and have a fake conversation that included me saying, “Nothing, just sitting next to a grotesque freckled ginge who won’t shut the fuck up. I’m just trying not to breathe too deep. Ginge isn’t contagious is it?” But I didn’t. I listened to the mp3 player TBU got me for my birthday.

Oh yeah, I turn 26 next week. I am officially on my way out of my 20’s. I’m glad though, I am such an 8th grader. I’m ready to go to college.

Speaking of college, I’m done with my last final for the semester on Tuesday. Don’t break out the bottles too quick though, I’m taking Summer school and it starts n Monday. I’ll let you know when the bottles can come.

On the bus I almost started weeping while I listened to Gold Mined Gutted. I don’t knot who sings it or what. But it almost made me cry. Santa Cruz scenes were blurring by and it seemed like a sad, sad soundtrack to my departure.

Have I told you? No I haven’t. TBU and I are leaving Santa Cruz for the warmer, fake tittier  climate of San Diego. Probably by the end of the year. That’s what happens when goals start to be reached, shit changes.

Oh! Another thing about Flashcamp. This older gentleman sat next to TBU and was kinda hogging the elbow room. I noticed and discretely whispered, “Do you want me to scoot over?” Except I had my earphones in and it was totally indiscrete. TBU didn’t answer he just opened his mouth like he was going to say shit the fuck up! But he just side glanced at me and hella ingored me. Then the man moved over a seat. Sir! I’m sorry! I only asked because I was concerned about TBU’s comfort! You were never meant to hear! So fail.

In other breaking Flashcamp news, Asian people who are like literally from Asia are so fucking pushy. Let move my beer before you walk on it you freak bitch.

So I hope you’ve enjoyed the first drunken update in a long time. Thanks for the free beer, Adobe!

The Millionizer doesn’t want TBU to ask a question because it embarrasses her. I am the harbinger of dream death.

PS I’m torn. Should I include a FlashCamp tag? I would, except the whole thing about disparaging an entire race that has been pretty productive. Positive stereotyping! My solution will be to add the tag tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow. Leave all the “you’re racist” comments you want. I won’t be here.

PPS Makers faire update tomorrow. Let me rephrase that. I will go to Maker Faire tomorrow but I will not post about it because, let’s face it, promptness is not my strong suit. Do you know about MakerFaire? No? then click that link!

We clearly need each other.

It’s Ash Wednesday, no more fucking around people.

TBU made this for us all to laugh and enjoy. We’ve been buying expensive cases of fancy beer then last night good sense took over and TBU yelled, “It’s only $17.99 for 24 beers!” We were and remain totally stoked on the deal.

Classes start on Monday. Hooray!

Sorry for the lapse in posting. I didn’t die, but there are changes afoot in the Millionizer/TBU household. I’ll keep you posted.

I just have not been able to be bothered to blog lately.

That sentence had a lot of bubbly b’s in it but I’m too lazy to figure out another way to say it. X so graciously asked me to read over her grad school application essays. One for Berkeley and one for Harvard. I was kind of like, “Me? Really?” Actually, I was exactly like that. I mean this woman has an English degree from Berkeley (With HONORS!) and a master’s degree. I just skated by UC Santa Cruz with a 3.0 GPA in a film major. Not to say college or your GPA in college determines your lingual aptitude or anything but X knows her way around a few words. So anyway, I was reading one of her essays and she mentioned doing two things twice in two years. And instead of having any constructive commentary, my notes said, “That sentence has a lot of twos in it.” I tried rearranging and whatnot but alas, The Millionizer could not make it work. Ok on to more pointless anectdotalism.

Last Sunday was my office Christmas, oh excuse me, holiday party* and we all immediately got shitfaced and talked about wildly inapropriate things to make each other’s guests feel as uncomfortable as we could. When your brother’s co-worker asks you about the first time you had sex and the whole back story and simply will not drop the subject even after you’ve made it clear you don’t want to elaborate, you have to wonder what the heck is up with my place of employment. But really, it’s fun I swear.

* I don’t know why I got all snarky back there. To be fair, it’s not really snark it’s how I talk, I’m all, “Merry Christmas! Oh, err, Happy Holidays!” all the time.

Last night was TBU’s office holiday party. Since he works in San Jose, the party was in San Jose. TBU Sr. got wind of this and offered to get us a room at the hotel because we drink alcohol to aid in the unbearable awkwardness of social interaction.

TBU’s co-workers are not from the same cloth as my own. It was all shmoozy and desperately trying to be elegant. Which was awesome because the only shoes I remembered to pack were black flip-flops with pink skulls. Don’t think I didn’t notice those glances to the floor and back up you turds. I’m fairly certain the be-skulled flip-flops and my obvious foot tattoo were duly noted and filed appropriately. If it weren’t for the sympathetic waiter with the generous pours and knowing glances it would have been a total fail.

As soon as the first couple left everyone lept** from their seats, grateful for the social cue to go the hell home. The Teebs and I rented Waitress from the concierge, he fell asleep and I got to enjoy the movie over the soft (read: soft like nails on a chalkboard) sounds of Downtown San Jose at night. I can’t say it was all too bad. The bed was extremely comfortable.

**I just spent 30 minutes internet researching lept vs leaped. Apparently I am not insane and they are both words and equally applicable in this situation.

There’s more, just not now. I have some great, disparaging quotes from my mother when she visited for Thanksgiving and possibly some video.

The Millionizer needs a shower

TBU just mentioned the Counting Crows and I said, I just wrote a post about them. To which he replied, I know. Then I questioned, You did? But you didn’t leave a comment? And he said, I know, it’s not very inviting. And I’m pretty sure that’s indicative of me as a person, like my boyfriend, the person I live with and who(m) the post was about didn’t even feel invited to leave a comment, that has to say something about my writing style and in turn, me.

It’s not a bad thing necessarily, in fact I’ve made it perfectly clear that this is about me, by me, for me blah blah blah but I still really like the interaction. I like reading comments and emails, I like “meeting” new people. Really, I do. It’s just, I don’t know what it is. Certainly, an aspect of it is the social anxiety which has only become less and less crippling with age and alcohol. Another thing is the fact that I am kinda self conscious about my writing. So I’m inclined to not invite commentary (even subconsciously) for fear of reading things that make me feel worse. But I have learned over the past two years (can you believe two years?!) that you should come to expect the kindness of people on the internet. As great as I think I am, I am well aware that the opinion may not be shared, so I try to shelter myself from the fact. I don’t know what I’m getting at.

Let’s move on shall we? Yes, this way please [hand movement to the left] on to a slightly related topic

Last weekend, Savage and Lou were in town. Lou was my next door neighbor freshman year in the dorms, Savage lived upstairs. How do I express the awesomeness of these two? There is no way really. I just asked TBU to remind me of a story and he said exactly what I was feeling, The snake, the car? I don’t remember much, really. I just remember feelings and strong impressions. How can I be expected to remember anything when I was so busy getting drunk off Smirnoff Ice? Remember when that shit came out? It’s like a neatly packaged ghetto drink, which means fabulous. Lou is the guy who shows up at 2am and wants to go spelunking and drinks Zima to prove you wrong, while Savage is the guy who tries to communicate by grunting for a whole week and continually passes out in your living room, forcing you to step over a large human form for 12 hours straight. These are my buds.

I grew up as an only child of a single mother, there was never a male presence in my house. I had no clue how guys worked on a real, personal level, my only guidance was Saved by the Bell and Friends. So when I finally lived on my own and had to use a co-ed bathroom it got real personal and I was like Oh my god, you mean they can act independently of social expectations? I had no idea. I guess it should be mentioned that certain segments of the population find Lou (and Savage too, but mostly Lou) to be devastatingly attractive, namely my mom. When I told her he was going to be in town she made that noise you make while simulating a shiver, or an orgasm, god I hope it wasn’t an orgasm. These are people who you expect one thing from (rampant sexual objectification of women fitting only a narrow definition of beauty and inability to communicate with other women on a level of respect) and you get the complete opposite, well you get some of it but it’s in context and comes off as, oh I don’t know, harmless? I consider living with these guys essential to my personal development. I can’t really explain it anymore than that. I love them, bro-style. Anyway…

They were in town last week and one thing led to another and suddenly there was something happening I had never seen before. Something I don’t think anybody has seen before. TBU sang karaoke. As if that weren’t shocking enough, he got onstage without any encouragement whatsoever. I walked up to help Savage out before he drowned in the deep sea that is “Like a Virgin” and TBU followed. They were rocking it so hardcore all I had to do was gunshot my beer, which by the way illicited the loudest applause. Even the extremely drunk surfer dude who heckled everyone, cheered us on. The Teebs hates karaoke. He once left me in San Francisco because he couldn’t handle all the karaoke. When I asked, “the fuck?” all he said was, “Eh.” After seven years of boycotting all you have to say is eh?

God, what is up with all this weird introspection and lame linearity lately? It’s like my fingertips are on their period, are about to start their period or are 14. I think I know what it is. I haven’t smoked any weed since Canada. I could pass a drug test right now. Well not right NOW but tomorrow afternoon once all the pinot is out. I don’t really know why, my only explanation is eh. I just stopped taking it when it was passed to me and realized I could remember my dreams in the morning. But maybe being this in touch with my mind is getting to me. I’m uncovering the underlying reasons for things that should just be because they are. I don’t like it. I need a hobby or something, something other than grad school applications and human anatomy.

And with that, I have to go to bed. If you need me I’ll be elbow deep in cadaver by 8am.

So it’s getting down to it. I’ll have my application for UCSF in by this weekend. Like, seriously, my life plan hinges on this. It’s incredibly exciting and so nerve racking. I’m drinking red wine with my juicy lips and I keep thinking of all the things I’ve done in the past year. I’ve been working full time and taking up to 9 units of ridiculously hard classes. And not only that, I’ve been doing really well in them. I know that no matter what happens with UCSF I will look back on this time and be like, Holy eff, how did I do that? I got five people I genuinely admire to write me letters of recommendation. When I found out I needed five letters of recommendation I couldn’t fathom that that many people would think highly enough of me to do it. But I had to start turning down offers, and that kinda shocked me. I took the GRE and did way better than I imagined I would. Granted, it’s not a GRE score Josh Her-fuck me- nandez would be happy with, but it’s good enough for The Millionizer. This whole application process is coming to an end and it’s scary because from here on out nothing is up to me. I can’t rewrite my essays, study for the GRE or tweak my application, this is it. They are judging me now and that is some scary shit.

That’s pretty much all my mind is dedicated to and probably will be until notices are sent out in late fucking December. I go to sleep with thoughts of the thick evelope in my mailbox.

The Millionizer is on edge