It’s Always Cloudy In Chicago
Like Laguna Beach on crack…Archive for audrey's not crazy i swear
Audrey Loses Her Mojo
I’m not one to brag, but I do get my fair share of boys every now and again. Well… I did anyway. Recently, I have been noticing a sudden change in my approach to the opposite sex. The Audrey that we all knew and loved was boisterous, outgoing, and dog-gonnit she hooked up with anything with a penis (and a wallet). Now, I’m sad to say those days have come and gone. For it seems that I have become shy and boy-challenged.
It’s not that I do not try… well… I guess I’m not really throwing myself out there anymore, but I want to. It’s just that I seem to have forgotten how. This is mostly due to the gay bars that I have frequented as of late (courtesy of PJ). I think I am so used to not having to flirt with boys at said bars. There are hot boys everywhere in the Boy’s Town bars, but I have conditioned myself to not throw myself at them because I know they like peen just as much as I do. That seems to have carried over to the straight bar scene. I’m trying to get over Goggles and E-factor and the whole gay bar scene is probably not the right place for me to get back into the scene, but I will say those gays love to party.
Another reason is that I think that I have upped my standards a little bit. Is it a problem that I will not even talk to a boy if he is shorter than 5′9″? Is it wrong to turn guys down if they do not wear a suit to work or just because they do not have a job? Trust me. That is for the better–I’ve got expensive habits. Is it bad to just walk away from some dude because every word that is coming out of his mouth is ridiculously boring and he is not good-looking enough to tolerate?
I just want someone cool who will treat me like a princess and make me laugh and all that nonsense. It wouldn’t hurt if he was into comic books and movies and the same tv shows and music as me. It would also be a plus if he had a fat little wallet, sweet job, and knew how to dress. And he has to be really sweet and nice and smart… and have straight teeth, and good hair. It would be best if he was hot… but I will settle for cute if he does what I tell him to do. I hate to say it, but I kind of want a guy like my most recent ex–but hotter and younger (I think that I’m going to stick to guys that are kind of around my age; say– 21-26) AND minus the lying, cheating, and douche baggery. Oh and he has to worship the ground I walk on and think I am just absolutely adorable when I am totally sober and completely wasted. He’s got to be able to keep up with my craziness and he would earn mega-points if he had a car.
Ugh… Why can’t I find a guy? I don’t think my standards are too high. Is it bad that I am looking for someone semi-cool? There has to be someone out there who fits this description. I think I lost my mojo when I decided that I didn’t want to be the one-night stand girl anymore… and look where that has gotten me?
I’m done with Goggles. But I kind of want to hook up with his friend. I’m done cozying up to the ex. Even though he did confess that I am much more attractive than his new girlfriend (but that was a GIVEN!) and tried to get into my pants– whether or not he succeeded I will not disclose. I shouldn’t talk to Excess Baggage anymore, but it’s just a comfort zone I’m not ready to let go of. And John Cusack keeps calling to hang out. I don’t know how to tell him NO. It’s just easier to avoid it and say that I have other plans.
Ugh. I want a boyfriend, but it looks like I am going on a never ending quest to regain that je nais se qua that I once had that impressed the fellers. Oy vay!
Audrey Quits Playing Games With Your Heart
I hate to say it kids, but “good” Audrey is done.
I am so sick of boys right now with their back-back-forth-and-forth-ness. It’s pretty ridiculous. Goggles especially–he’s totally not goodlooking enough to play this game. First, he’s all about me. Then he’s not about me. But, oh wait, he’s all about it bout it when his friend, who from this day forth shall be known as, Wolverine, or any other random guy is all over my nuts.
That’s how he was on Halloween. That is why he kissed me. That is why he texts me every five seconds when he knows that I am with Wolverine or if he is the vicinity.
Is he trying to prove something? He knows that I like him–nay, liked him, but I’m so over his psuedo-Jedi mind tricks. Why is it so difficult for him to show me that he likes me or blow me off if he doesn’t? I am not in love with him so I would not care. I have the bounce back rate of a 2-year-old. Just flash something shiny in my direction and I will be distracted. I am not going to cry about it. There are so many other guys that will wait, oh, less than THREE MONTHS to kiss me. In fact, there are guys who will try to make out after 8 seconds of knowing me!
Also, there are guys who won’t lie about hanging out with his brother just to go have a guys’ night. Yeah, that is what Goggles did. He invited me to watch Da Bears’ game the other day and then uninvited me because his brother was coming over. Then Mark texted me to tell me to come to watch the game at Goggle’s house unbeknownst to him that I was uninvited since his brother was there. What? Who does that?
We all know that I really really really liked Goggles. There is no denying that. I stopped smoking around him. I stopped going to straight bars. I stopped randomly making out with random people. I turned down sex many a time. I did all of this because I thought somehow this would prove to him how much I liked him when I really did not have to prove anything to him at all.
So I am done pretending to be this goody-two shoes for no apparent reason. He only likes me when he feels it is convenient for him. For the most part, that is when someone else is stepping on to “his” territory. And for the record, I am for no man to claim. Thank you very much.
I guess what I am trying to say is this: Audrey is back. None of this pretending to be nice nonsense. No more of this “I like Goggles soo much” bull crap! I am going back to my evil ways and you can’t stop me. I’m going to stop being boring now and go on all the random misadventures that make my life as carefree as possible. Holla! Jammin’ on the one.
Disclaimer: This is a drunken rant. If it doesn’t make sense, it is because I am slightly enibriated.
The Dynamic Duo Stuffs a Turkey
Happy Thanksgiving, kiddos.
It’s been a crazy little week and Lily and I have been slacking with the posts, I know. Last week, was super stressful with me killing the economy and all.
Last Friday, I needed to de-stress. I had one hell of a shopping spree with Ana. Later that night, I managed to dance the night away with Goggles (who is a really really bad dancer, but in the most adorable kind of way). Lily managed to do the one thing I told her not to do, which was drunkenly tell Goggles how I feel about him (Thanks, Lil). Then at some point, she managed to drunkenly flash us at Barleycorn. Ha, I know. What a skank, right? I thought that he would never speak to me again (since he told me that he never talks to girls who like him if he does not like them back), but it worked in my favor. I figure that he has to dig me a little bit since he is still talking to me and hanging out with me. So, you’re lucky this time, Lillian, but no more drunken professions of love when a) you’re inebriated and b) not involved in either party.
Saturday, I met up with the loves of my life, Karly and Alyssa, and we partied it up with Mark and company since he was throwing a party. Things got a little nutty (there was Jungle Juice and Jungle Juice and I are not the best of friends). I attacked a boxing machine and spent the night hanging out with Goggles friend. No, we didn’t do anything (even though that was my plan). I really like Goggles and I just didn’t think it was in my best interest if I want to pursue something special with him (I know. I’m gay).
And this whole passed week, I’ve just been coasting through. Saw Beowulf on Monday–I realized that I hated the epic and that there was no need for me to see the movie. I learned a few things though–Angelina Jolie can fuck whoever she wants and it will haunt a man forever; and if your arm rips off of your body, you’re screwed because you automatically die.
The rest of the week I was partying hard with old friends and closing down bars. I didn’t realize how much I missed everyone until I saw them all again. And although, the suburb bars do not compare to the one’s we have in the city, the patrons know how to throw down and have a shit ton of fun. I saw everyone from Preschool to Excess Baggage to kids that I went to grade school with and of course, Karly and Alyssa, so it was automatically an awesome time.
I will be reuniting with everyone again tomorrow for a last hoorah at a friend’s birthday bash/lingerie party tomorrow at Enclave (Googles will be there too I think… I was so happy that he conveniently made it out to the suburbs last night and that Mark convinced him to go to the same bar that the girls and I were at). I’m quite excited. I might dress a little skankier than usual for the occasion. This might even call for an emergency shopping trip.
But I guess , I just want to take this time and state everything that I’m thankful for, since it’s Thanksgiving and all. I figure the occassion calls for it.
- My Family. I’m so glad that my family is pretty attractive and that I didn’t end up ugly. I’m pretty glad that I’m cute because God knows that I’m not the brightest crayon in the box and that my looks have gotten me a lot of things. I’m kind of glad that they don’t expect me to be a rocket scientist and that they will always think of me as “the cute one”. No pressure there.
- The Crazy Bitches I Call Friends. I am partial to you guys because there’s only a select bunch that I truly truly enjoy. You’re always a guaranteed good time and I could talk to them about anything.
- My Cell Phone. It is truly an extension of my body. I don’t know what I would do with out it.
- M.A.C. Cosmetics. Because they make me look flawless (even though it really doesn’t take much).
- Andy Samberg. There should be no reason for why I’m thankful for him except that he is the most beautiful, funniest man in the universe.
- That Homeboy Broke Up With Me When He Did. Ugh. I would have been engaged by now, dudes! How crazy would that have been? No crazy stories. No random make out sessions. No slutting around town. No crazy list of bad ideas. No Goggles (he wouldn’t have even been a blip on my radar since when I am in a fully committed relationship–which I was–I have boy blinders on). My life would pretty much suck major!
- Skinny Jeans. They just make my legs look long and my ass look fierce!
- Justin Timberlake. Without his music, I would not be such a merry drunk.
- The Gays. They are just so fab. Without them we would not know what is cool and what is hot. We need them in our society. They make society work and the world a better place in general.
- The Almighty Credit Card. The emergency credit card has done wonders for my wardrobe. Without I wouldn’t be looking as fresh and clean as I usually do. Also, it has closed a few bar tabs in its day. I can’t help it if I live beyond my means. I’m cool like that. Hollar!
I think that is it. I was looking forward to not waking up early, but I’m thinking that I might have to just for the sake of having something to wear tomorrow night. Hope you guys are all fattened up. I have a feeling you all are going to purge tomorrow. Kidding! Not really, but for the sake of the kids, I never said I was a role model.
Audrey is a Threat to the Economy
I realize that the economy is a necessary entity in the world that we live in—with all the importing and exporting and what not that we do; and the whole supply and demand nonsense. Without it, I would not be able to go shopping and forgo my career as a marketer…yadda, yadda, yadda. I get it. The economy is necessary.
However, I would like to argue why I do not think it should be a necessary part of my curriculum. The reasons being: it is stupid and I hate it. I literally want to set it ablaze (and yes, I have noticed that lately I do have pyromaniac tendencies) and kill it. I think the economy is horse shit simply because it makes my life more difficult.
Why do I need to know how to minimize marginal cost without reducing the output of production? You know what my answer would be on an exam? Hire more friggin’ immigrants or outsource your labor to a third world country. But unfortunately, that is not one of t he choices that I am given on a multiple choice test. Also, there is no mathematical proof… well, legitimate mathematical proof that people don’t frown upon (stupid hippies). I mean, I guess I can bs an algorithm (immigrants/third world country labor + higher rate of production + jacked up output prices = lower marginal cost + higher overall revenues), but I have a feeling I would a) displease my professor and b) be deemed as a “bad person”. To be honest, I have accepted the latter, however, I must avoid the former if I want to pass this stupid, stupid class.
Everything that is discussed in regards to the stupid economy is retarded. Personally, I do not think it pertains to anything relevant that I want to do. I just want to make pretty advertisements and launch bitchin’ campaigns; maybe cause a few eating disorders, control what is deemed as “cool”, and push people to believe that who they are is what they own. That isn’t so much to ask for. I know. I am simple like that.
I do not care how much it costs a company to produces what they want to me to market. I do not care what the consumer has to pay. My sole purpose in life is to make whatever product it is super duper sexy. I am just there to create a demand (at a pretty damn good price).
But yeah, I purpose that we stage a coup. Yes, you and I! Let’s kill the economy. Okay, maybe not the real economy because the world would totally go in the shitter, but on the smaller scale, economy related classes. I believe they call them economics. For I deem them unnecessary and irrelevant to my life. Not only are they dry and boring and full of numbers and algebra (yuck!), they put me in the most awful mood.
So blast you, economy. I demand that you supply your carcass for a good old fashion ass kicking. And, oh yes, I will see you in hell.
Audrey Sets Her Apartment on Fire (Kinda… It Was Well-Contained)
I saw you with her dear.You tried to hide away. She left through the back door. You always had your secret ways. I acted so serene. I was so drowsy then. My fault. I’m so careless. I gave you one too many pills. My oh my. My alibi. Restore my fate in these. Words so clear. My failure dear. Lies tucked away in me. You wanted to play this game. I’ll play it too. Come here baby I will show you what this girl can do. A mattress for a coffin suites you very fine. You’ll feel me with my others as you’re sewn under the seams. - “Cardigan Weather” by Meg & Dia
This is probably my favorite song of the moment and yes, I am getting a little sentimental. WARNING: This may be the only time that you will ever witness Audrey get a little emo… so get the Kleenex because the eyeliner is going to smudge. This weekend was a little rough for me (granted… it probably didn’t seem that way). It was E-day this weekend (I’m not going to say what the E stands for, but just know that it isn’t anything good and why I commemorated this day is beyond me). It was pretty much the ex’s and my anniversary.
I finally got the nerve to rid myself of the ex factor–got a new phone (his number not included and none of his saved text messages); literally threw out all of his clothes (except the two that I sold and got a pretty sweet hat); burnt everything he ever bought me which included flowers and stuffed animals (FYI: teddy bears don’t take to fire easily) and every picture we ever took. As far as, he is concerned, he was never in my life (that is actually much easier to say because for some reason it’s easy for me to lie about it). I started the fire in my bathroom. My roommate wasn’t too pleased. I think that it still smells like burning in my apartment right this second. I’m sure she will look back on it and laugh… maybe not today, but one day.
And it did make me feel better to cut him out of my life for the final time (because it was a very long arduous process), but that feeling of redemption over him was definitely short-lived. Maybe it is because I sobered up or maybe it’s because I was still drunk and thinking (which usually isn’t the best of combinations). But I have a feeling it was because I went lurking (and I know that is super creepy and borderline obsessive, but trust me for some reason all girls do it). For some reason, I just wanted to see if he still had the e-mails from when we were dating saved and part of me was glad he did. For a second, I thought, well, I’m glad I still cross his mind from time to time.
And then I kept going and I found out more than I probably needed to know. I know that I set myself up for that and I fully admit that it was 100% my fault. But I really didn’t need to see pictures of his new girlfriend and him. And I didn’t need to read about how he happy he was. (AGAIN, I’m fully aware that I was the one lurking). I am a happy person. I am pretty content with the life that I am leading and all that malarkey, but I think it is just knowing that he is happier than me and with someone else–that is what is killing me.
And I think that the only thing that is really bothering me about him being with someone else is that I am so much prettier than her. I know. I know. That is not a reason to get all riled up and I know that looks aren’t everything and I’m sure that she has a sparkling personality. I’m totally sounding super vain right now… But COME ON! I am so much hotter than she is. I’m smart. I’m funny. I can quote man movies out the wha-zoo. I don’t cry during chick flicks because I don’t watch them. I’m into guy things. I’m not saying that I am perfect, but I am was the closest to it that he could ever get. It’s sad because had she been prettier, I would have bitched still, but I probably would have taken it with a grain of salt and accepted it because he upgraded. But no, it was a total downgrade and I am completely perplexed by the whole situation.
So on E-Day I drank and I drank and I drank some more. I think that I drank for a good 12 hours met up with a number of different cohorts to celebrate this momentous occasion. SOVA was in town, so I gladly met up with him for a few rounds. We got pretty belligerent and pretty much got kicked out of a bar at like 1 in the afternoon for beating up on each other. We brought political incorrectness to the streets until he got tired and went home, while I met up with Ana and some of the gang from high school.
Guess what we did? That’s right we drank and drank til we couldn’t drink anymore. It was pretty silly. I think at one point I passed out on the bar floor, which was pretty amusing to my friends, not so much to the bouncers. Needless to say we left and got food and I threw up all the way home. It was pretty righteous.
And I have come to this unbelievable revelation, which I kind of knew from the beginning, but I’m going to go ahead and state the obvious. Even though I may think that I lost “the one” (because I was pretty set on marrying this ex), I have the best people in my life right now–hands down, the best friends a girl can ask for. Between Lily and SOVA and Ana and Alyssa and Karly… right now, I don’t think I need anyone else. And I know that I am perfectly content with that. Even though I will bitch about the current flavor of the week and boy melodrama, these people that were there for me this weekend are definitely the constants that I need and that I’m so happy to have.
And, yes, I am done being emo. And no, Lily, I did not get the word “fuck” tattooed on my body. You have to be out of your mind to think that I would actually do that. I’m looking forward to the weekend. Gretchen is coming to visit on Friday and re-celebrate my birthday since she wasn’t around. And my two counterparts, Alyssa and Karly (I probably couldn’t live without them) will be home this weekend. I’m stoked.
Again, I apologize for the emo rant. Let’s never speak of this moment again. Kisses.
Audrey Lights Shia’s Fire (Pronounced Fi-Uh)
Everyone who is anyone knows about my obsession with SNL sweetheart, Andy Samberg. He is just the epitome of everything that I could ever want in another human being—crazy hair, smart, hilarious, has the ability to rhyme, dorky, Jewish (I’m a little bit of a Schiksa). I’m convinced that we are totally meant to be together and I think that he is the cat’s meow (that’s right—I said cat’s meow). I’m 98.97869849875% sure that we are going to get married and have crazy-haired little rapping babies one day. I am so sure that he’s going to fall in love with me that I would totally put money on it. All I have to do is penetrate his circle of friends and somehow earn his trust. Gee… How are you going to do that, Audrey? Well, let me let you in on a little secret, kiddies.
On April 14, 2007, Shia Lebeouf was the host on Episode 17 of the 32nd season of the late night comedy show, Saturday Night Live. During the rehearsals and up until the live taping of the show, he had the honor of working with my personal beacon of light, Andy Samberg. From what my sources have gathered (and by sources I mean, what I assume), the two strapping young men became rather chummy on set and from what I understand have remained friends ever since. What does this have to do with you marrying Andy Samberg? Be patient, grasshoppers.
You see, a little birdie (who I shall call The Red Eye) has informed me that Shia is shooting a movie here in Chicago with Rosario Dawson. Not only is this self-proclaimed homebody shooting here, he is also going about getting arrested at a Wal-greens (criminal records are hot) and partying up in our fair city at places like Underground (aka places that I can easily gain entry). Audrey, you’re not thinking—Oh, you better believe it, little ones. That is exactly what I am thinking.
I plan to stalk Shia Lebeouf and bed him in order to meet and, shortly there after, marry Andy Samberg (I’m thinking that we would probably elope). GASP! I know. It sounds crazy, but is it really? I have developed a very intricate plan and there is no way it can fail.
I have taken the liberty of compiling a list of Shia’s general interests and favorite things. From the gathered information, I have derived another of the handful of places that he would even think about going to given his shooting schedules and locations as well as the proximity in relation to his hotel suite.
Also, I figure that for the next week or so, I must keep tabs on anything concerning Shia’s whereabouts. He may throw out a surprise appearance at the museum or have dinner at Carmine’s or something. You never know with these Hollywood-types.
Now, realistically, I cannot be in more than one place at a time (for now at least) and I realize that is a shortcoming in the plan. For this reason, I have installed a number of private security cameras and recruited a number of spies (or as I lovingly refer to them, “spias”) up and down the Gold Coast and anywhere and everywhere that could be a possibly be Shia-friendly.
When I get wind of a Shia siting, I’m going to need confirmation ASAP. I have the best people in town working for me, so if they fuck up—they’re fired and they will never work in this town again. Once I receive confirmation, I make way to the said destination and wine and dine Lebeouf until he is in the buff. This is how I imagine our initial meeting will go:
First, I wait until he casually walks up to the bar. I casually bump into to him not letting him know that I recognize him as anyone famous or anything like that, of course. That’s when I apologize and offer to buy him a drink. Of course, he’ll accept and I then yell, “Bar keep a long island for me and a roofie-tini for the gentleman.” I make eyes at him. We talk and we laugh and we share a few moments until the roofie kicks in. I tell his buddies or whoever he’s with that he said that he wanted me to take him back to his hotel (and if they don’t believe me, I’ll just pull the ol’ Weekend at Bernie’s shtick). From there, I will bed him (because what fun is it to roofie up a celebrity and then not bang him?). Afterwards, I hire a hooker to pose in the incriminating photos that I take of him (this is for later use).
The next morning, Shia will wake up and see me in his arms. I’ll tell him about how we fell in love and that I loved him before I even knew that he was a big movie star. He’ll be a little scared at first, but then he will get comfortable and use to the idea of me. After he is done shooting his film, he whisks me away to New York to meet his family and some of his buddies.
Coincidently, Shia and I would attend the Saturday Night Live after party and run into none other than, Andy-mother-f-in-Samberg. How funny is that? Who would have thunk it? Andy and I hit it off right away. Shia conveniently does not feel good for some reason or another and calls it a night, leaving it up to Andy (the love of my life) to make sure that I get back to him safely. From that night on, Andy and I develop a strong bond that cannot be broken and some might say a forbidden love.
Conveniently soon after, incriminating photos of Shia and a hooker turn up all over the place on—covers of magazines and all over Perez Hilton. We get into a huge fight. I tell him that I cannot be with someone who has such an insatiable sexual appetite that he has to turn to prostitutes and that I am embarrassed to be seen with him. He tries to fight for us, but I tell him no. Then I point out that I realize that these pictures were in the very hotel room that we first made sweet love in and cry that I can’t believe that he was doing this right under my nose. And then I leave him.
As soon as I walk out of his apartment, I call Andy crying, looking for a shoulder to cry on. He provides that shoulder. Andy tells me that he would never ever think of doing that to me if I was his lady friend and then he professes his love to me in a digital short that he had been working on called “Shia’s Girl” with Martin Short starring as Shia. About five minutes later, we get married and there is a whole tabloid frenzy about this ridiculous love triangle.
And that is the reader’s digest of why I need to bone Shia Leobouf.
I mean, yes, I’m technically using Shia and ruining lives, but it’s all for love, baby. It’s all to show Andy that I care. So, don’t judge me and claim that my intentions weren’t good and that I ruined the career of the next Tom Hank’s single-handedly. That’s mean. I know that you would do it too and we all know love makes us do crazy things.
So I’m asking you from the bottom of my heart, if you have any news or information about Shia’s whereabouts, please contact Audrey. If you don’t want to do it for me, do it for the sake of true love. I promise that you will get into heaven if you do. And if you don’t, I will make your life in hell as miserable as possible. Kisses.
UPDATE: Turns out Cusack knows the studios that are filming Shia’s latest project. Isn’t that a beard stroker?
