St. Patrick's Day POT
I don't know if you know this about me, but I really, REALLY hate people who don't respect other people's homes.
Rather than share my life thus far with you readers, I'd like to talk about my St. Patty's Day and how it went:
First of all, I didn't drink. That's right, I didn't drink a single damn beer on MY holiday when I find reasons to drink every other day of the week. Reasons being: 1) I've been sweating midterms, and had a GROUP Symposium speech this morning of which I did not want to be too hungover to miss (and thus screw my whole group over); 2) I've been drinking beer...well, almost every night for the past two weeks, so I need WATER now; 3) By the time I got out of my Tuesday night class, EVERYWHERE would have been packed (I drove by Streets of London and it was, indeed, packed); 4) If I did decide to go out, there were four different groups of people telling me where to go: certain group to Streets, certain group to Sutter Street/Powerhouse, certain group to Alibi in Cameron Park where it wouldn't be packed, and certain group to house to play Beer Pong.
So. I just didn't want to deal with it.
Anyways, the night resulted like this:
I came home; took Keith and drove to get some Adalberto's because what the fuck, I have been craving their California Burrito for days now and I had two drunk people to feed as well (Desi and Ashley, who were wasted by the time they got home at 9:45 pm, lol). Got said-food, came home, READY to finish this damned symposium and be ready for it.
Ashley's on the phone inviting over Tammy and two of her friends. Ahem. Let me explain Tammy for a second, and why I'm not a fan:
The only time's that I have been exposed to Tammy is when I used to live in my old apartment with [stoner] Jacky, and the time when we had a housewarming party at our new place in Folsom, and Tammy decided that she would walk right in, grab whoever's iPod it was out of MY iHome (it was either mine or Desi's 'pod), and proceed to put her own in, with her own music. Umm, no. This is what I'm talking about when I speak of respecting other people's homes: you don't walk in and help yourself to whatever, you ASK -- and you do it expecting a no, so that when you get a yes you're that much more thankful. I don't appreciate people just grabbing whoever's shit it is and dumping it wherever -- not to mention it's a subtle insult that, "HEY! Your music sucks! Mine is like, SO much better."
That was a long time ago. Let me also throw in that at the end of that night, Tammy ended up storming out because we wouldn't let her invite over her friends that WE didn't know when our house was already packed full of drunk people. So she took off, which was better in my opinion.
So, last night Tammy comes over once more, with two guys I don't know. I figured I'd let it slide, because what the hell, they're all drunk barhoppers and it's better that they stay off the streets.
Tammy literally walks into my house (no knocking, no doorbell, nothing) with two guys from some band I've never seen before. Drunken rambling and bumping into things ensues. Keith's turning the television up so he can hear what he's watching OVER the drunken banter, as I'm trying to crank out this speech outline amidst small chaos. I perked up my ears, because all of a sudden, I hear:
"Hey, where should I roll this?"
I look casually over my shoulder to see Desi guiding the boy into one of the seats, and Tammy saying, "Oh here, roll it on this cutting board! Get it on a flat surface!" I see rolling papers; I see five drunk people in my den; I see a cutting board.
They all look over at me and THEN start with the introductions: "Oh, this is Katie, she lives here! And this is Keith!" Some mumbled nice to meet yous and I, with a look of smug curiosity, ask, "Hey, you guys wouldn't happen to be rolling a joint, would you?" They grin and shake their heads and say, "Oh no, this is a blunt we're rolling!"
So I, in sugary sweet tones, say, "Yeah, could you just go ahead and do that outside?"
Keith turns around, bewildered. Tammy's jaw is dropping, and she looks pissed because, "where are we going to roll it outside?" Hey, not my fucking problem, just don't do it in my fucking house! Keith gets up, walks out of the room, but I can feel the heat eminating from him because he absolutely abhors marijuana.
Okay, so this is in italics now (freaking thing won't turn off...my fault for using so much emphasis).
Needless to say, after that debacle Tammy went ahead and took off with the guys. Keith was seething, as was I. Desi was too drunk to realize the severity of the situation, but kept agreeing and saying, "Yeah, you're right, it probably shouldn't smell like weed before we show the house this Friday! Right? Right??" which is something I hadn't even thought of, but is most definitely true.
I was actually really proud of myself for being able to stay calm, while at the same time telling them to get the fuck out of my house with that. After growing up with two weed-smoking parents who did it wherever they wanted to, and after partying with, dating, and living with Craig (and having the same situation of smoking weed wherever), and THEN living with Jacky where I was beginning to not be okay with it, but still had to deal with coming home to a bunch of strangers smoking weed in my living room...I'm just not okay with it anymore. And yeah, you can go smoke it in Desi's room for all I care, or smoke it out on the street, but don't do it IN MY LIVING ROOM -- where I'm sitting with my boyfriend, whom two out of five of you don't even know our names. I'm definitely not putting up with it anymore --
Yeah, that's how my St. Patrick's Day went. And I still fucking hate Tammy.
Rather than share my life thus far with you readers, I'd like to talk about my St. Patty's Day and how it went:
First of all, I didn't drink. That's right, I didn't drink a single damn beer on MY holiday when I find reasons to drink every other day of the week. Reasons being: 1) I've been sweating midterms, and had a GROUP Symposium speech this morning of which I did not want to be too hungover to miss (and thus screw my whole group over); 2) I've been drinking beer...well, almost every night for the past two weeks, so I need WATER now; 3) By the time I got out of my Tuesday night class, EVERYWHERE would have been packed (I drove by Streets of London and it was, indeed, packed); 4) If I did decide to go out, there were four different groups of people telling me where to go: certain group to Streets, certain group to Sutter Street/Powerhouse, certain group to Alibi in Cameron Park where it wouldn't be packed, and certain group to house to play Beer Pong.
So. I just didn't want to deal with it.
Anyways, the night resulted like this:
I came home; took Keith and drove to get some Adalberto's because what the fuck, I have been craving their California Burrito for days now and I had two drunk people to feed as well (Desi and Ashley, who were wasted by the time they got home at 9:45 pm, lol). Got said-food, came home, READY to finish this damned symposium and be ready for it.
Ashley's on the phone inviting over Tammy and two of her friends. Ahem. Let me explain Tammy for a second, and why I'm not a fan:
The only time's that I have been exposed to Tammy is when I used to live in my old apartment with [stoner] Jacky, and the time when we had a housewarming party at our new place in Folsom, and Tammy decided that she would walk right in, grab whoever's iPod it was out of MY iHome (it was either mine or Desi's 'pod), and proceed to put her own in, with her own music. Umm, no. This is what I'm talking about when I speak of respecting other people's homes: you don't walk in and help yourself to whatever, you ASK -- and you do it expecting a no, so that when you get a yes you're that much more thankful. I don't appreciate people just grabbing whoever's shit it is and dumping it wherever -- not to mention it's a subtle insult that, "HEY! Your music sucks! Mine is like, SO much better."
That was a long time ago. Let me also throw in that at the end of that night, Tammy ended up storming out because we wouldn't let her invite over her friends that WE didn't know when our house was already packed full of drunk people. So she took off, which was better in my opinion.
So, last night Tammy comes over once more, with two guys I don't know. I figured I'd let it slide, because what the hell, they're all drunk barhoppers and it's better that they stay off the streets.
Tammy literally walks into my house (no knocking, no doorbell, nothing) with two guys from some band I've never seen before. Drunken rambling and bumping into things ensues. Keith's turning the television up so he can hear what he's watching OVER the drunken banter, as I'm trying to crank out this speech outline amidst small chaos. I perked up my ears, because all of a sudden, I hear:
"Hey, where should I roll this?"
I look casually over my shoulder to see Desi guiding the boy into one of the seats, and Tammy saying, "Oh here, roll it on this cutting board! Get it on a flat surface!" I see rolling papers; I see five drunk people in my den; I see a cutting board.
They all look over at me and THEN start with the introductions: "Oh, this is Katie, she lives here! And this is Keith!" Some mumbled nice to meet yous and I, with a look of smug curiosity, ask, "Hey, you guys wouldn't happen to be rolling a joint, would you?" They grin and shake their heads and say, "Oh no, this is a blunt we're rolling!"
So I, in sugary sweet tones, say, "Yeah, could you just go ahead and do that outside?"
Keith turns around, bewildered. Tammy's jaw is dropping, and she looks pissed because, "where are we going to roll it outside?" Hey, not my fucking problem, just don't do it in my fucking house! Keith gets up, walks out of the room, but I can feel the heat eminating from him because he absolutely abhors marijuana.
Okay, so this is in italics now (freaking thing won't turn off...my fault for using so much emphasis).
Needless to say, after that debacle Tammy went ahead and took off with the guys. Keith was seething, as was I. Desi was too drunk to realize the severity of the situation, but kept agreeing and saying, "Yeah, you're right, it probably shouldn't smell like weed before we show the house this Friday! Right? Right??" which is something I hadn't even thought of, but is most definitely true.
I was actually really proud of myself for being able to stay calm, while at the same time telling them to get the fuck out of my house with that. After growing up with two weed-smoking parents who did it wherever they wanted to, and after partying with, dating, and living with Craig (and having the same situation of smoking weed wherever), and THEN living with Jacky where I was beginning to not be okay with it, but still had to deal with coming home to a bunch of strangers smoking weed in my living room...I'm just not okay with it anymore. And yeah, you can go smoke it in Desi's room for all I care, or smoke it out on the street, but don't do it IN MY LIVING ROOM -- where I'm sitting with my boyfriend, whom two out of five of you don't even know our names. I'm definitely not putting up with it anymore --
Yeah, that's how my St. Patrick's Day went. And I still fucking hate Tammy.