Expect a real live post soon. I am off to party and celebrate not having to study all night. I’ll be in San Francisco, I’ll twitter my location so you can buy me drinks. And then when I have a masters in nursing and peoples lives literally rely on my quick thinking you can say you saw me so drunk your boyfriend had to be dispatched to buy me a gallon of water. And then I will throw up that gallon of water in your daddy’s american dream car. And THEN I will beg to take a shower in your house but you will deny me because you don’t want to wake up your parents. In the morning you will make up some excuse about me forgetting my key when your mom asks why I am sleeping on your bedroom floor in a cold pile of my own vomit. And you won’t even have to buy me that many drinks because I am pretty wasted right now off that bottle of wine I chugged when I got home. I told my mom I would talk to her tomorrow because I would be too drunk to talk tonight. She laughed, but she knew it was true. Sorry, Mom.

Me: This wedding is so ghetto it’s like a quinceñera. [wait for it]… Oh.

*I got distracted by an email from X and spent the last 45 minutes responding to her and telling her about this.

He accused me of lying without actually accusing me of anything. He mentioned my unwillingness to work. The first things he accused me of were completely untrue. The thing about being unwilling to work is only half true. I am willing to work because I want to get out of the house and get paid, but I don’t exactly want to work.

I am debating whether or not I should post his email to me. It would require a lot of editing and name changing on my part, so I’m not really inclined to do it. As I was reading it my shoulders went numb and I literally gasped like an old timey lady whose sensibilities had been offended. I was really, really upset and began to cry which angered TBU. He started berating my boss and telling me to quit. The idea sounded crazy at first, but now that I think about it, it’s not so bad. I mean, I bend over backwards trying to give my clients the best service possible (no, I am not a prostitute) and I get accused of not being willing to work. I have been begging for more hours since fucking MAY and I get accused of being unwilling to work. It just doesn’t make sense to me.

TBU, ever the office politico, thinks they are trying to force me out. I don’t think they have any motivation to do that though.

Bossman accused me of “leaving information out” during a conversation yesterday and said the whole thing didn’t “sit well”** with him. His exact words were, I do feel like you were leaving information out and then the whole car thing came up later and something about phone reception… Seems like there have been some goofy things going on. That fucking ellipsis kills me. It’s so passive aggressive. And all the “goofy” things happening were entirely legitimate. I won’t give you the details, because they are boring, but I will tell you it involves a smog check and phone reception.

**TBU and I were joking that if it didn’t sit well with him it must stand poor with him. hahahaha…

I wrote a restrained tirade in response. I haven’t sent it, I’m going to sleep on it and perhaps edit it in the morning. How adult of me, because what I wanted to write was, “Fuck off, I quit.” But typing it here also feels pretty good.

I am so angry at the whole thing. Feeling this way about my job is reminiscent of the visceral depression I went through while I worked at Wells Fargo. Just placing those letters together to form those words makes me feel like I have to take a huge shit. I have never been more depressed in my life. I would get to work five minutes early so I could cry in my car before I went in. It was my preparation for dealing with the onslaught of rage and aggression I knew I was going to have to endure for the next 8 hours. People yelled at me, threw things at me, belittled me, said all sorts of insane things to me, and it wasn’t just the customers. Throughout the day I would steal away to silently sob. My red eyes were a result of “allergies” or being “sleepy” or any other thing I could think of. Once I said my eyes were puffy because I got mosquito bites on both my eyelids, wtf? I was desperate, obviously. It just got to the point where I didn’t care anymore. Once I quit, I realized what a waste the previous 10 months had been. I promised myself I wouldn’t let it happen again.

Now with this whole drama happening I’m wondering if it is. I’m wondering if action is required of me or if it’s something that can be resolved. To be perfectly honest, I’m pretty hurt by the allegations. I know how hard I work and how much genuine interest I put into helping these people. It is pretty disheartening to give something your all and to be accused of doing nothing. It’s almost worse than what happened at Wells Fargo. At least then I knew it wasn’t personal, that these people were just out of their minds. But now it’s entirely personal. It’s directed specifically at my actions and targeting my ethics. Normally it wouldn’t bother me what anyone thought of me or my ethics but I respect these people and enjoy their company. It’s like having a friend call you a liar on something that never seemed like a big deal.

I don’t know, I’m feeling pretty foggy and over the whole thing. And I think it’s too late to chug a glass of wine, even if we had any. I know it’s immature to quit a job because you’re pissed off but I also know it takes a certain level of maturity to not deal with someone’s bull shit. And that’s where I am right now. Deciding what the best thing to do is. Of course, I’m going to try to work it out but the possibility of this is always going to linger.

The Millionizer sees your bullshit and raises you a blog post

[UPDATE: Bah! I just sent the email with almost no edits. Now I'm nervous.]

[UPDATE 2: I recieved an email back and the jist was that I read his first email wrong. To which I say, riiiight.]

Can anyone tell me why answer B is greater before I go postal?

Like all of us, (some of us?), TBU partook in the great cousincest experiment of the late 80’s/early 90’s. You’re little and your parents could give a shit who sees who naked because you’re family and certainly too young to notice any bodily differences. But you do and it is fascinating. One of my cousins was obsessed with watching me pee because I sat down. So every time I went, he did too. Afterwards, he would ask questions like, “Why does it come out the back?” Eventually, we touched each other in a vaguely sexual way. It was really my first experience. After a while it just stopped. You know, cuz people grow out of things.

Well Mr. TBU apparently didn’t get that memo. I met hmmmmm, let’s call her Jenna, in Canada. She’s a nice enough person. My problem is not with her (or even her skin although it can be described as corn poop with concealer) it is with TBU.

At first, it was just a fleeting thought. Is he flirting with her? Whoa, Millz you’re being weird. Then it happened again and then at one point it was just undeniable. That was day 2 out of an 11 day trip. It was a bunch of little things. Making sure she was warm, carrying her load of beer bottles while I carried my own, freaking out because his brother left her alone with drunkle (when if it was me it wouldn’t have mattered), little hugs here and there, walking her the 20 ft back because he wanted to make sure “she got there safe,” etc. etc. etc. Those little things guys do when they try really, really hard to bang you. That coupled with the fact that he could just not stop talking about her. He was like 16 again. I sat back and watched, bewildered, pissed, hurt and ready to leave him.

There was no way to bring it up, not while it was all happening. His whole family was there. They all own cottages around a lake. We stayed with his mom, whose cottage has walls that aren’t more than an inch thick or entirely connected to the cieling. And having that kind of fight was out of the question. Meanwhile, I made sure my time wasn’t wasted, by talking to everyone, drinking, popping pills and generally having an, otherwise, good time.

Finally, we were in Ottawa, in our own hotel room and I mentioned it. As soon as we got there he wanted to call Jenna. He immediately wanted to go to the bar she works at even though she wasn’t going to be there until 10:30. Enough was enough and lucky for him we were alone. Of course he denied it. He wanted examples. How can you give examples for something like that? And he knew anything I said would have sounded silly. “You ignored me.” “You keep talking about her.” “You want to hang out with her too much.” “You’re flirting with her.” They all sound stupid and baseless and I knew it but I didn’t care. His defense was that he doesn’t get to see his family very often. If that were true then he would want to hang out with all his cousins who live in Ottawa not just the one he diddled when he was 11.

He accused me of being jealous and needing too much attention. The asshole go-to comment for boys who don’t want to accept responsibility for their actions. The only part that hurt was the implication that there was something I should be jealous of. She looks exactly like her brother, who TBU himself described as, “ugly and duuuuuh.” She has cankles the size of Kerri Strugs cast and is blistery red from all the drinking and tanning. When I giggled after he said that, it was genuine. If I were jealous I don’t think I would have hung out with her all day in my bathing suit. After I saw everyones cankles and cellulite I was like, fuck these pants, my legs may be thick but they’re smooth with identifiable ankles. If I were jealous I probably wouldn’t have talked to her, hung out with her or gotten to know her. Boys, if you’re going to accuse your girl of being jealous make sure she is, otherwise it makes you look guilty and stupid.

I stared at him and told him that I knew exactly what he was doing and I knew he did too, whether he wanted to admit it or not and if he was going to continue his behavior we needed to break up immediately. He mumbled, “Well I can’t break up with you now.” I asked why, because if there was ever a time it was now, foreign country or not. I had money, I had a hotel room, I had a plane ticket back home and a map of the city, I would be fine. He said he didn’t want to break up and I told him his actions said otherwise and if he meant it he would have to start treating me like he meant it.

Later that night, we met everyone at the bar. TBU was boyfriendly again until he got drunk. He danced with Jenna on one of the platforms, I was invited too but I was not about to be an incest sandwich. Their dancing wasn’t particularly obscene, it was, in fact, awkward and forced but everyone was trying to have a good time and pretend it wasn’t weird to be partying with their cousins. I danced with one of TBU’s brothers and suddenly I was the object of TBU’s affection. It was like clockwork, have a good time with his brother and get some attention from TBU. Typical.

Jenna disappeared and I was still somehow coerced into an incest sandwich while cousins and brothers danced together in one pulsing cluster. Last call was announced and I made my last trip to the bathroom and whose beet red cankles do I see? Why their Jenna’s! Her brother, mom and best friend were holding her hair back and feeding her water. I got her some towels, wiped her face up and told everyone I’d see them tomorrow at the wedding. Outside TBU refused to leave because he wanted to say bye to Jenna. Literally refusing to leave the bar. His brothers are shoving him down the sidewalk while he protests. I tell him I saw her in the bathroom and she’s not coming out anytime soon. Finally his drunk ass lost motivation and the search for a cab started. Considering the last few days though, his actions at the bar were trivial.

Later that night, me, him and his two brothers are sitting around the hotel room, preparing for a late night walk and a smoke. I’m talking to one brother while the other two are across the table. I hear TBU mention how cute Jenna is and his brother laughed and said, “No she’s not. Every other girl I’ve seen has been way hotter than her.” The conversation devolved and the brother winds up saying TBU has been flirting with Jenna the whole trip. Vindication! TBU naturally became loudly defensive. I would too, if I were flirting with my cousin in front of my family and my girlfriend and then someone who has no vested interest in it called me on my actions. I looked at TBU smiled and went back to talking with the brother.

TBU was pretty drunk that night and claims not to remember much of what happened, including the conversation with his brother, but interestingly enough he was entirely pleasant to be around afterwards.

The thing is, is that I don’t think he actually wanted to fuck her but I do think he wanted her to want to fuck him. Get it? It’s the idea of being desirable. I understand that. It’s nice to feel attractive. But have some boundaries and decorum for fucks sake. To her credit Jenna was perfectly unresponsive to TBU’s actions: refusing to let him walk her home or carry much of anything for her and making sure she wasn’t alone with him so as to avoid anything seeming uncouth. If I was in her position I might even be upset for being put in that position. How stupid does he think people are? It was an insult all around.

The good stuff to come later.

I jumped off a 35 ft bluff this morning. I pooed lake water after.

Now I’m in Ottawa at a hotel waiting for the mayhem.

About 65% of my calories of the last week have been from beer and prescription pain killers. I didn’t hurt myself or anything I just like the induced relaxation. And they also sell some pretty hefty stuff over the counter that I am way into. Methocarbomal? Yes please. Methocarbomal is to vicoden as crack is to cocaine. But you take what you can get.

Back on Monday, more later.

The Millionizer, eh

I called my vadge vag doctor for some unbaby-makers but I was unhappy to find out that I would have to come in for an appointment because blah blah blah.

I got to my appointment miserable, walked in miserable, sat down miserable and tried to ignore babies miserable. I was taken back and given an examination gown. But wait?! Why do I need a gown, I just need birth control! The internet school medical assistant said the doctor was just going to examine me quickly. In all my pain and mental fogginess I accepted this as an explanation that held any sort of meaning. I put on the gown and waited for 45 minutes, miserable, before the doctor came in.

She finally entered, shit was shot and, Oh my god, how am I getting a pap smear?! I just want birth control. You can feel my ovaries better through a rectal exam?! The whole time I couldn’t help but equate the situation to a rape of sorts. She wanted to see my hooha so she could bill insurance for the honor, even though I am not due for another 4 months. She probably doesn’t get the clams for a hi, how are you here’s some birth control visit. See what I did there, with clams?

Seriously though. No, seeeeeriously though. Just imagine what it was like. I was nursing a five day old migraine, then got mind warped into stirrups and the icing on the clam cake was the surprise rectal exam.

I called Mama Millionizer at work and the whole story was just too pathetic for her not to laugh. She laughed so hard she had to hang up.

Before the doctor left, she hugged me (bah!) and handed me half a Kleenex box to clean up with. The back of my head pulsed as I wiped off gobs of goo and could not think of anything more dehumanizing.

(*In fact, their name could be from a DC lyric, just sayin)

I would so be a cougar for Michael Cera. I’m only five years older than him, so maybe I’m still in acceptable dating range and there need be no labels. Of course, both TBU and Michael would have to agree. But it really wouldn’t even be dating, it would be me plying him with strong drinks and keeping Ms. A far, far away.

Eat chips, sour cream and salsa all at once,
The Millionizer

A few months, ago she complained to management that we used our bathroom fan too much. And management had the nerve to call us and tell us not to use it if we didn’t need it. Remember this? Yeah, we need it. While we had them on the phone, we complained about her noise level, and you know what their response was? “THAT’S PART OF APARTMENT LIVING.” Why didn’t they just say that to Whiny McNeverLeavestheHouse?! I don’t know but I was pissed.

Our landlord already thinks I’m crazy unreasonable* so in an effort to appease me he said would get us a “silent” fan and hoped it would take care of the problem; but asked us not to use the fan until he installed the new one. After a week of not being able to use our regular cieling fan, our brand spanking new, taking care of business, “silent” fan was installed. And everything was reasonably quiet. Until fatty got home.

(* So crazy unreasonable as to be pissed when the handyman crushed all my plants that were out front, then left razorblades, rusty nails and cigarette butts in our entry way. Landlords response? “They’ll grow back,” and “Yeah he’s not the tidiest person, that’s why I’m here to clean up after him.” This was 5 days after the handyman was gone, and the landlord didn’t clean up shit, I wound up collecting all the trash later.)

There was no satisfying her. She was back to stomping and blaring her embarrassing taste in pop culture. We responded in kind. Actually, TBU resonded in kind. I prefer not having the bass determine my heart beat. MY stealth move was to leave the fan on and wear headphones. Eventually she would get out of breath from all the stomping and just blare the tv, which was easier to mask anyway. Then she would go to bed around 10. This has been our fairly consistent routine for the past few months.

I got out of the shower today and had had enough. It’s total fucking bullshit. I spent 3 hours psyching myself up for the confrontation. I planned on being very, very nice. Like so nice, it would be impossible not to see my point of view. Like so nice she would not want to ever upset me because I was so nice. Like so nice she would just shut the fuck up already. I prepared a speech with TBU’s help and opened the front door a bunch of times like I was going to do it but just couldn’t start walking up the steps. I called TBU and he said a bunch of shit that’s easy to say when you’re not the one about to climb a flight of stairs and knock on a door.

I practiced the speech and then I just did it. I climbed the stairs and knocked on her door.

And knocked again, this time louder.

And one more time, even louder.

Nothing.

It’s not like she’s fooling me, I know she’s there. I’ve heard her tree trunk legs all morning, Natalie Imbruglia was so loud I actually sang along to it. I waited, flipped off the peephole and walked back downstairs.

So much for being nice.

Funny thing is she’s been near silent since I went up there this morning. Granted the fan’s not on, but she’s quieter than normal. I can hear her walking, but it’s normal walking, not her usual wants-to-embarrass-herself-by-breaking-through-the ceiling, stomping. If I had known that all I had to do was knock on her door a couple times I would have done it a long time ago. It may have helped that while I was talking to her next-door neighbor (who we’re friendly with) I slipped in, “Yeah it would suck to have to get the landlord involved.” Now I know she’s complete chicken shit and thought no one was going to call her on being a fucking 6 year old. So if she reacts poorly the next time I take a shower, I’ll just knock on her door. Problem solved.

The couple who came over is great and all but… First off, they never drink while they’re here. Oh sure, they’ll split a beer and accept glasses of wine. But they won’t actually drink the wine. When I was cleaning up this morning there was a (formerly) perfectly good glass of wine that hadn’t even been touched. The most annoying thing is trying to entertain sober guests. I’m not Martha Stewart here. Also, I am becoming more curmudgeonly in my vegetarianism. TBU tried to convince me to serve meat at our dinner party and I was indignant at the suggestion. If you’re coming over to my house you’re not getting meat, it’s fairly self-explanatory. I told Teebs that no one was expecting meat and they could all fucking deal for one fricking meal. We made stir fry with tempeh, which so happens to be my favorite meal of the moment. I don’t think it was a hit. Which leads me to the second reason I was all annoyed with my dinner guests, or maybe the third reason, because I was already pretty grumpy from being tired after the bike ride. Anyway, they ate before they came! If you’re going to eat before dinner with friends don’t say it. I reckon they did this for a couple of reasons. One, they realized they weren’t getting any meat and ate before because, as TBU said, “Carnivores don’t think they’ve eaten until they’ve had meat. What you have planned is an elaborate snack in their eyes.” Which, if true, is dumb.  Or, two, they didn’t actually eat beforehand but didn’t enjoy the meal and explained away their lack of consumption with lies. For the record, TBU made a delicious tempeh stir fry. But that was fine because the left overs came in handy after our nine hour nap today. And overall they just seemed like they wanted to be somewhere else the entire five hours they were here, or maybe that was just me.

Despite sleeping through the bulk of the day I was still productive. By productive I mean watched several episodes of Sunny and took a bike ride downtown. We stopped at uber hip Caffe Pergolessi for hot drinks and a pastry. The double f in caffe should warn you that this place is crawling with pretentious college aged hipsters and other too cool for school types, but the homemade whipped cream and sexy non-smoking deck make it all worth the trouble. I was mostly done with my peppermint tea when Douchey McStretchedEarlobes hunkered down on the non-smoking deck and proceeded to light a cigarette. I whispered to TBU, “Hey that guy’s smoking!” the way a five year old tells on someone. TBU started to turn around to direct Douchey McStretchedEarlobes, Duke of Unwashed Hair and Tattoo Sleeves, to the smoking deck but I didn’t even want to deal with what was probably going to be a blood boiling response to a simple request, so before he could say anything I said, “No, no let’s just go!” As we walked down the deck to our bikes I felt a little defeated, like we should have stood our ground. So I made sure to give him a good stern look as we made our way out.

All’s well that ends well though because just as we began to bike down the street we crossed paths with Smiling Mike. Mike has the highest levels of naturally occurring serotonin of any adult with a normally functioning endocrine system. He takes happy to a new level. I am jealous of him. If we all had one tenth the optimism and general good naturedness of this guy I can’t even begin to tell you what kind of utopia we’d have on our hands. It would be a polyamorous utopia though, ‘cuz monogamy is not something he’s down with. I don’t know what Mike does or where he lives or how he makes money. TBU went to college with him and that’s all the concrete facts I got on him. He’s constantly out of the country. Every time we see him, he’s on his skateboard, it’s downtown and by chance. I knew it was him before I actually knew it was him. Blond dude, huge smile for no reason, skating, pink shoe laces = Smiling Mike. He saw me and before he brought his board to a complete stop he was hugging me and shouting, “I love you guys!” I know I’ve made my stance clear on hugging before but hugs from Smiling Mike are always acceptable, which says a lot about this guy considering he might be homeless.

On the ride home we were talking about monogamy and how it’s the only thing that’d work for Teebs and I. We’re just too lazy to be continually meeting people and talking to them and figuring out how they want to be fucked. TBU is afraid of any possible STDs and I am with him on that. And yeah, we do love each other too much to add other people into the mix, I guess.

* Typing 3am reminds me of that Matchbox 20 song of the same name. I went to a Matchbox 20 concert when I was 14, I’m glad I’m not 14 anymore.

The Millionizer is off to milk the next 3.5 hours before her alarm goes off