The 98% humorous musings of M. Lizabeth Currain

Month: November, 2009

Blame it on the…

bad decision making. Depending on how old you are, you either thought I was going to say “alcohol”

(editor’s note: I think that whole video can be blamed on the alcohol. I mean, Ron Howard? Really? And while we are at it, I am blaming Jamie Foxx’s “singing career” on the alcohol too. Shit is whack. Who let this happen? But I do love T-pain, which makes it hard to hate the song, dammit!)

or “rain”.

(editor’s note: Honestly, Milli Vanilli was ahead of their time. What they did wasn’t much different from auto-tune. R.I.P Rob Pilatus. Also; I like using editor’s notes because they make feel important.)

Back to the matter at hand. There have been times; recent times; when I wish that I could blame the activities I was engaging in, on some sort of behavior altering substance–but I can’t. There may have been a (few) times where I have answered personal ads on Craigslist. Sad, I know. I’ll save the gory details for some other shame cleansing blog post; I’m not sure how much dignity will be left after this one; so stay tuned! I also may have joined an internet dating site–or two–and possibly met up with someone from one of them and then proceeded to make out with them in their apartment. Again, another post dear readers, another post. But the most horrific offense of them all happened about a month or so back. At a work function. Do you see where this is going?

So in early October, the organization that I work for, threw a staff appreciation party…on a boat…with an open bar. Now it’s not an exaggeration to say that the people that I work with cut loose–especially if there is an open bar. I’ve seen many a disgraceful thing happen at these parties. I only had a couple of beers, because I know better than to get all wild and crazy at a work party. Or so I thought. I was dancing; I honestly wish I could say that was the worst of it; but it’s not. At one point I went down to the bar to get another drink, maybe my 3rd Bud Light (keepin’ it classy!) and ran into a guy from another store that I had met last year at one of our fundraisers. This was near the end of the night, so I am just going to cut to the gory details and say that we ended up making out in the parking lot of  the boat dock, with other employees watching. I mean, the guy I was making out with was wearing a shirt/jacket like this:


I wish I was kidding, I really do.

However, in my own defense, I didn’t agree to make out with him until he took off the shirt/jacket thing. I have some standards. I actually put up a pretty good fight too–he thought it looked cool. And I think we all know, that it didn’t. That thing was a big F.A.I.L, if I have ever seen one. So finally, he came to his senses and realized what a prime piece of real estate I am and took off the crumby jacket. This makes me realize that I was not drunk, because if I was, I wouldn’t have cared about that stupid jacket. But I did care…that was the part of me that was saying, “hey sister, this is a bad idea, but if you must, at least make him take that off, he looks like a broke down Chris Tucker in Rush Hour 2.”

He had the nerve to ask, “So are we going back to your place or mine?” Um, excuse me? I don’t be thinking so. I firmly told him that he was going to his place, ALONE. I then, however, felt compelled to put my number in his phone. This learning curve is a hard one for me to get around. So later that night–after the work shindig, I kept the party going with a few coworkers–he texts me to ask if I want to hang out the next day. I had the day off, so I figured, “why not?” and plus I still thought I was hot shit for making out with someone (ugh, it had been a while! Give a girl a break!). If I had known, what I was going to be walking in to, I never would have said yes.

It looked a little something like this:


track jacket? check!

Combined with:



Terrible sungless? Check! Puff Daddy swagger...check and mate.

It was AWFUL. The moment I saw him, I knew that this was going to be one of the most painful experiences ever. The lenses of his sunglasses were two different colors. There are just some things, that are never okay. Thinking about it now still upsets me.

So, we decided to see the movie Whip It; about the roller derby. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. Although, it would have been better if I wasn’t with someone who was complaining the whole time about the people sitting behind us, not doing anything. And then he put his head on my shoulder. NOT IN TO IT. And it wasn’t like I was inviting it. I was practically sitting in another chair.

Afterwards, we went to get something to eat. We went to a taco place and he was really obnoxious and rude to the people behind the counter…which I can’t stand. And it took him forever to figure out what he wanted and was being an total spaz about it. When we sat down to eat, he started unloading all this personal information. It was a first date. I don’t need to know about your ex-girlfriend and how she dumped you because you didn’t want to marry her and now you have to live with roommates that you don’t like because they are gay and use your dishes. Then when two police officers came in, he said, “I was this close to taking the police officers test. Can you imagine me as a fucking cop?” He said it loud enough for them to hear. And then he said it again. I wanted to die. There are certain things you say in public when cops are around and certain things that you don’t. I would file “fucking cop” under the “Don’t” section. And he said that he collects knives and swords. And that he has the sword from the movie Blade that Wesley Snipes used. ::shudder:: Then on the way to the train we passed a Dunkin Donuts and he said, “You probably don’t want to hear my theory on Dunkin Donuts” and I was like, “Um, not really.” I mean, that is what I said…and he proceeded to tell me! So everyone out there, reading this. I went on a date with someone whose theory on Dunkin Donuts is this: “They are all owned by middle easterners and they are trying to poison America.” If a train had been approaching at that moment, I probably would have pushed him in front of it–that is one of the most atrocious and stupid things I have ever had to listen to.

The train ride home was painful because all he was doing was complaining about the train and trying to touch my knee. I was trying to debate whether or not it would be worth it to get off at the wrong stop and walk all the way back to my apartment. So about an hour after I got home, he sent me a text message saying, “Why’d you let me run my mouth like that?  now I feel stupid.” I wrote back, “thanks for dinner.” I mean, what was I supposed to say, “Trust me, I wanted you to shut up more than you regret talking”?  Then the next night he texts me at 2am! We are not on the 2am text level. That is reserved for family and close friends. I didn’t respond. Again! The next night he texts me asking if I got his last text or if I don’t want to talk. I. Didn’t. Text. Back. He got that message.

But! and this is important people! Don’t make out with people that you work with! Even if they work at a different store than you. Because they might come into your store a month or two later! And come over to you and say “hi”! And then you’ll have to not look up and say “hi.” and then walk away. Because that is how it always goes. Until you get another job. Which doesn’t seem likely.

Which is why, I wish I could blame it on the alcohol, but at this point, it’s just bad decision making.





Movie Moment

We all have them at some point. It’s the kind of thing that happens, that feels surreal–and it only feels surreal because you spend entirely too much time streaming movies on your Netflix (that’s a whole other post entirely people). I’ve had a few memorable movie moments and really they are only memorable, because they are slightly embarrassing or ended up with some kid trying to grind his knee up in my groin at a high school dance–more on that later. Maybe some of you out there have had them, you might be the lucky kind of people that make a connection with someone on; lets say an airplane; and you never think you are going to see them again, but lo-and-behold, they turn out to be your new coworker or something equally romantic comedy worthy.

I do not have this kind of luck. I never have and I am going to go out on a very short limb here, and say that I probably never will.

Since I am female and this is what females do (or so I’ve been told, by the media), I spend a lot of time romanticizing real life, trying to make it resemble  fairy tales, rom coms, and 80’s teen movies. It’s possible that I have an overactive imagination and just like to make up the occasional story of what it would be like to have a man sweep me off my feet–or it could be the fact that the entertainment industry has ruined me. It’s not fair to blame it all on them, but I will, because not taking responsibility for one’s self is a true American trait, and I am nothing, if not a true-blue American.

The first of my movie moments that I can remember was back in high school. And it went a little something like this….

Except it went nothing like that, because Jake Ryan does not exist, and he does not speak Spanish. Although, how great is it that that clip is in Spanish? It’s almost better in Spanish. But as I was saying, that isn’t really how my movie moment went down. I was at a homecoming dance and I was standing by myself–a slow song had just started. I don’t know if it was the same where you people went to high school, but good lord, our dances were not complete without a handful of slow songs. Now, I think they just play some ‘Lil Wayne song and guys bend girls over and pretend to have sex with them, or actually have sex with them….kids grow up so fast these days. But I digress. So I was standing by myself, twiddling my thumbs or something, and I look up and I see a boy in front of me, clearly asking me to dance, because he has his hand outstretched in front of me and he said, “Would you like to dance?” My immediate reaction in my mind was obviously, “huh?” which translated into me looking behind me and to both sides to make sure there wasn’t some crafty bitch behind me waiting to pop out  and steal my glory. It gets better, because then I POINTED TO MYSELF saying, “me?” I wish I were kidding. But I’m not. So it turns out, he was asking me to dance. As we were dancing, it felt like something was missing…magic? romance? A finger and a half, perchance?! He was missing some fingers.


At least he wasn't able to grab my ass?

JAKE RYAN HE WAS NOT. But for all those fingers he was missing, he sure made up for it in the thigh area, because it was trying desperately to rub up in my groinage area…which I did not appreciate. And the song was like a  year long, I swear it was like were dancing to some extended version of Shai’s “If I Ever Fall in Love”.

So lets move ahead 8ish or so years (editor’s note: I am getting old) and I am still reliving scenes from movies. This time it’s from a movie that I’m ashamed to even admit that I saw…I actually rented it on Itunes. Who does that? Me, that’s who. But not now, now that I have NetFlix–dependable, comforting, NetFlix. The movie: He’s Just Not that Into You. Seriously, I actually watched it. In my defense, Bradley Cooper is really hot, okay?


Am I right, or am I right?

For those of you who have better sense than I do and avoid watching such filth, there is a scene in the movie where Justin Long’s character; Alex; invites Ginnifer Goodwin’s character; Gigi; to a party he is throwing at his apartment. I’m not going to lie, I looked for a clip of this, but couldn’t find it anywhere, and that’s why I am going to have to explain this shit. So Gigi is basically in love with Alex because, well she is a woman in a romantic comedy, and is desperate; needy, naïve;  sort of like a real woman, I guess? The line between art and reality is so blurry. So there are tons of other women at this party because Alex is one of those guys that has lots of women friends (annoying) and doesn’t realize when he is leading a girl on–and then blames the girl for reading too much into the things he has said/done (double annoying). All of these factors do not deter Gigi from basically becoming the party hostess (i.e., pretending to be his girlfriend). She starts refilling chip bowls, going around making sure everyone is having a good time–all while Alex is ignoring her because he is playing video games with some hot model looking chick. She even cleans up the entire apartment for him at the end! Sad, I know. Plus, Alex doesn’t even care.

Where is this all going, you may now be asking yourselves. About a week ago, I was invited to a an apartment warming of a cute friend. I wouldn’t even really say that close of a friend, because I’m not even sure my name was spelled right in his phone at this point, but he’s cute, so whatever. I received the invitation via Facebook (editor’s note: of course.) and it said that the party was from “8pm to 11pm”. So me being me, I have to work extra hard not to show up right on time, because only losers do that–sigh–and show up at a fashionably late time of 8:20pm. Or so I thought. I get there and I AM THE FIRST PERSON THERE. His roommate, was still in the shower at this point! Turns out he had been telling everyone that the party started at 9pm. So there I am, 40-fucking-minutes early to a party of some cute guy I hardly know. So then he asks me to help him take apart some frames so he can put some of his photos in them, so they can be hung up for the party…of course I help, because I am a decent person, and that is what decent people do. The his roommate gets out of the shower ( a girl, natch) and is asking me to light candles and put them around the apartment. What am I supposed to say? So of course I start lighting candles and placing them around, alternating colors, and such…and that’s when I realized this seemed all too familiar. My life had officially become a lame movie inspired by a horrible, horrible, book. He kept thanking me and was like, “I’m so glad you’re here.” You’re only glad I showed up unreasonably early, so you could get free labor out of me. I know how this game works. I’ve seen my fair share of movies!

I’m smart enough to know that while I may be experiencing a movie moment, those around me are not. I will not have a movie ending…Jake Ryan will not show up outside the church of my sister’s wedding (maybe because I don’t have a sister?) looking for me. Do you want to know why?  Because Jake Ryan is like 50 years old now.

I’m back.

Hey folks. I took a hiatus from the blog, but I want you to know that I will be posting some stuff within the next couple of days, hopefully on the regular.

It was a long summer, and now it’s pretty much winter, and I need to get on top of things and share my insight on the hideousness and hilarity that can be every day life.

I’m looking forward to entertaining you all…but mostly myself, because I might be the only one that reads this.

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