It’s Always Cloudy In Chicago
Like Laguna Beach on crack…Archive for epiphany
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.
Audrey is on the Disney Channel Halloween Special
Oh, Halloween, how I love thee…
Last night was awesome. I wore my high school uniform– which I was pretty stoked that it fit much better than it did in high school (did I mention I went to Catholic school? I did. That’s where I think I got my fascination with plaid). The skirt was way short. I can’t believe I got away with wearing this at sixteen. I mean, I can, but the reasoning behind it is so wrong. I had the only authentic Catholic school girl outfit, I think, out of any of the five places I went to.
P.J. couldn’t believe I wore this outfit to school all the time either. I started out the night with him and his boyfriend, who was a fierce French maid, and their gay posse. We were dressed and drunk by like six o’clock. It was pretty awesome. Then we went to the parade on Halsted, I believe. The costumes were amazing, as usual. There were Spartans and I fell in love. These Spartans were cut and definitely better looking than any straight Spartan. Why are all the hot ones gay? All in all, the parade was fabulous, but it ended relatively early. It was just passed seven and we need booze stat.
So what would three guys dressed in drag, a Catholic school girl, and a pirate do? ANSWER: Go to 7-11, buy forties and wander Boys own aimlessly. Did I mention we all took turns peeing in alleys? Because we did and it was hot! I, being the only real girl in the group, could not finish her forty. So I gave him the rest of my forty, which by that time was then a twenty, to some random homeless man. Good deed for the day, yeah, I know. Yay me!
Once we finished, we went to Circuit so P.J.’s boyfriend could enter the drag contest because bitch was fierce. I don’t know if he won because P.J. wanted to leave because he was tired and I went to go meet up with Ana and her boyfriend. It still boggles my mind whenever I go to gay bars because it doesn’t register that all these boys like other boys. I know that is what a gay bar is, but I’m just saying it’s weird going to a bar and not getting hit on. So off to the straight bar I went.
First stop, Lincoln Park’s Beaumont. I thought that this would be a good idea since I went there with Goggles the other night and it was a shit ton of fun. I guess it’s just not fun on Wednesdays. We got over it real quick and went to Buzz.
We went to Buzz to meet some of Ana’s friends. We had no idea that it was salsa night, so we kind of looked like we didn’t fit in. Also, every guy that hit on was old enough to be our fathers. In the entire bar, I think that there was one good looking man, but he definitely had a girlfriend. We had a bar minimum here, so we had to drink until we could close our tabs, and that we did. They don’t mess around at this bar. The drinks were ridiculously strong; so we left with a pretty sweet buzz (no pun intended).
Next stop: Soundbar. This place was more our style: beautiful young people, great music, and more booze! It was almost midnight and I had not seen any prospects all night. So walking in, I unbuttoned my shirt to show off my lingerie because I was totally ready to slut it up. We settle into VIP (because that’s how we roll) and then to the bar.
I probably shouldn’t have drank anymore, but Ana and her boyfriend insisted. They bought a round of shots and a drink for each of us. I decide to peruse the bar solo since the two lovebirds were making eyes at each other.
I just happened to be stopped by this rather attractive man who just so happened to have a striking resemblance to Channing Tatum. We get to talking and I find out that he’s from Scotland, which explained the accent (HOT!). I also find out that he is a boxer (HOTTER!). He’s so Brad Pitt from Snatch if he were in Fight Club. But, alas, the bathroom was calling. He was cute and all, but I prefer it that he wasn’t covered in vom. I grab Ana and we make way for the bathroom.
We get back to the VIP room and start dancing. As we are dancing, I try to spot Scotland (or my Scottish boyfriend, as I was lovingly calling him), but no luck. Before, I knew it, it was SHOT TIME! I joined everyone at the bar, but I had to take a pass so I stood on the sideline. Then some guy (who was by no means attractive) came up to me and started talking to me.
He was dressed as a mad scientist, mind you and with two other Asian guys. Want to go out to dinner with me sometime? No. Why not? Do you have a boyfriend? Yup (when obviously I don’t). Is he around here? Yes (even though he didn’t exist). Do you like him? Uh… yeah (by this point I was just pretending Goggles was my boyfriend—I mean, we pretend that he is when he is around, why not now?). How long have you been dating? Like 3 weeks (that’s how long I’ve like Goggles). The Mad Scientist and his friends start laughing. Seriously, you like you boyfriend? Yes. Is he white? I don’t know why that matters, but yes. Does he have a big penis or something? I don’t see ho—I have a little penis and the ladies love it. I left because I was pretty sure that was my cue to exit.
I walked away and I ran into none other than, Scotland. I told him what happened and he pretended to play along. The guys saw and they started hitting on some other poor girl. Scotland and I went out to the dance floor. We didn’t dance much. After like two minutes (new record), he had hhis tongue down my throat. He had me up against the wall and it was getting way passed PG-13 real fast. I toldim to follow me to the VIP since there were couches. I felt like Mystery.
Scotland and I continued to get a little down and dirty. Safe to say, we ended up making out all night. My friends took pictures of us (I later found out) making out amongst other awkward things. I didn’t care. I was pretty tanked. I guess in the midst of it all, Scotland lost his phone. We looked for it for a little bit, but making out got the better of us.
The weird thing is that even though I liked kissing Scotland (I’m a big fan of the making out), I had an epiphany. I was thinking about Goggles and how much I liked him. That was a first for me. Here I am plastered, making out with this beautiful piece of man candy, and I’m thinking about Goggles? I think I know why, I just don’t want to admit it yet.
Not too long after, it was that time again—time to stumble home. Scotland took my number old school on a bar napkin since he couldn’t find his phone and told me that he was leaving on the fourth. I didn’t really care he was pretty and I probably wasn’t going to see him again. Ana, her boyfriend and I peace the spork out.
On the way out, Ana’s boyfriend hands me a phone and tells me that he thinks this is mine. I put two and two together. Oh. My. God. That is Scotland’s phone. We have to give it back. Ana’s boyfriend did not feel the same way. He said that if no one claimed it by tomorrow, he was going to smash it. I told him that no one could claim it if he had it. And that’s when I realized I really wasn’t going to get a call from Scotland. Thanks, man, way to look out.
Ana and her man were supposed to sleep over at my place, but opted to take a cab all the way back to the suburbs. I didn’t have any cash on me and it was getting to the point where it was too cold to walk to the el. I call Charlie, since he lives near by the bar, to see if I can crash, he’s asleep. We walk around for a little bit until Ana stops a Range Rover. Now, Ana is as drunk, maybe drunker than I am. She is talking to two random guys in a Range Rover. Her boyfriend and I were freaking out. She waves for us to get into the car, stupidly we follow.
Now, I don’t know if he really was Jazzy Faye (famous music producer), but that’s how he introduced himself and his friend was named Tyson. To understand how drunk Ana was, here’s an example. She was calling these two gentlemen Jazzy Jeff and Tyson Chicken. Thankfully, they still took us to the el stop. I bid adieu to Ana and her boyfriend and get on the train home.
Sitting there, I realize how drunk I am and just zone out. Then some random man smoking a cigarette comes up to me and sits down. He starts to hit on me. He asks if I had a boyfriend and if I was faithful to him and all that stuff. Of course, I pretended that Goggles was my boyfriend and I tell him I like him very much and I would never be unfaithful to him. The man proceeds to ask me not only if I would ever consider doing a porno, but taping a porn video with him. I tell him to kindly get the fuck away from me.
I was pretty skeeved and walked home all pissy. I woke up Karly and made her stay on the phone with me until I got home, ripped my costume off, and passed out.
All-in-all, it was an interesting and random Halloween to say the least. It met all of my criteria: hooking up, booze, debauchery—lots of tricks and treats for all. I need to rest up tonight.
I feel like there is more in store for me this weekend.
The Dynamic Duo Are Really, Really Ridiculously Good-Looking
It’s really hard to determine how it is that Audrey and I got so egotistical. And, no… we’re not that self-obsessed [speak for yourself, Lillian]. Not in the slightest. We just realize that we are attractive people. But, for me at least, it wasn’t always that way. I was a really cute little kid. Seriously adorable: soft, curly blonde hair, blue eyes, the cutest little smile you’ve ever seen… I would melt your fucking heart. I had this amazing thing where I would tilt my head to the side in every picture. My god, even thinking about it makes my heart melt, and it’s pretty damn icy. Just ask my boyfriend.
I don’t know exactly when it was, but sometime within the period of my ninth and tenth year, I just felt apart. My cuteness was still there, but it was overshadowed with braces, frizzy curls, and super skinniness. It probably didn’t help that I swore a lot, hated people, and just read a lot of books. (Yes, at nine. Twelve years later, the swearing, hating, and reading remain.) I had a couple of the middle school “boyfriends”, partially because there was something cute about me, and I wasn’t an idiot, but most of them got over me when they realized that I wasn’t going to make up for my dorkiness by having sex with them.
Then, high school rolled around. Still skinny, still had a large mass of curls on the top of my head (lost the braces… at least for the first three and a half years). Hung out with theatre kids and stoners, which means I spent my time with catty girls/gay guys and slackers respectively. ‘Nuff said. Still awkward, only now I smoked a lot of pot. Met a couple of pretty awesome guys, including my first love, and I think that had a lot to do with my physical “blossoming”.
Oh my god, I just said blossoming.
I wish I could say that I had this miraculous realization that I’m attractive now. I got my braces off (for the second time) right before my 21st birthday, stayed thin, but got one hell of a chest, and stopped smoking pot. Okay, I didn’t stop, but I did cut down significantly. I think the big thing is really just that I’m sort of happy. Maybe I am not always happy, but I think that had a huge part in it. That, and the sex addiction. I think copious amounts of sex does wonders for one’s physical appearance. And love. That’s done a lot too.
There’s a funny catch to my attractiveness that Audrey doesn’t have: I still see myself as the chronically ugly duckling. It’s sort of funny for me to think that people look at me now. Sometimes, I think they’re looking at me because I have food on my face (which, in some instances, is probably the case) until I realize they’re starting to cat call. No one cat calls a girl with chili on her face! Oh shit. Well, that’s just life, I guess.
In the long run, I both love and hate my looks. It gets things done for me, and allows me to slack off when I feel like it, but nobody ever thinks I can amount to anything. I’m seen as a beautiful idiot. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. But, I have learned that even though people don’t take me seriously, they do fear me. And I really like that. Almost as much as I loved the looks on the faces of the assholes I went to high school with when they saw me. I gained weight in the best possible places; they just gained weight. Sucks to be them. For me, it was fucking priceless.
When did I realize that I was really really really ridiculously good-looking? Gosh. I don’t think it was until freshmen year of high school. You see, like Lily, I too had an awkward stage, but mine lasted the majority of my life. Like most babies, I was cute. I had a head full of curly black hair and I was cute chubby. However, chubby can only be cute for so long.
I was fat all through grade school. In the fourth grade, I found out that I was pretty much blind (and as the years went by I became gradually blinder); so I had to get really thick awkward nerdy glasses. Then when I was 11 I had to get braces (but those weren’t bad since it was cool to have braces). As a kid, I looked like a cross between Lilo (from Lilo and Stitch) and Ugly Betty. And to top it all off, I was awkwardly tall for my age. I was just a goofy looking kid. I wasn’t out casted by my peers, but it was understood that I wasn’t pretty. I was the girl with the personality and brains. Real cool, right? No, not so much. Those girls suck. But I did have boyfriends (granted, they weren’t the boys I had crushes on, but I had to take what I could get) and stuff because I had a “good personality”. I was so weird looking that to this day, there are virtually no pictures of me from ages 3 to 13 at my parent’s house. I hid all the photo albums. I was just a mess.
Then I got into (and really good at) sports (volleyball, basketball, karate, etcetera) and ate less (considerably less). I got really into working out for some reason. Also, I had my growth spurt and hit puberty. I started to thin out a little bit and lose my baby fat. I started reading girly magazines and taught myself how to put on my make up correctly and how to dress as fabulous as I do. I learned that a straightener can do wonderful things to your hair (with caution). I traded in my glasses for some contacts. I got the braces off the weekend before I started high school. I kept my winning personality, wit and charm (obviously). And apparently, I became one hot tamale.
Like I said, I did not realize that I was a regulation hottie until high school. I just thought of myself as the same awkward kid I was growing up. I was the DUFF (designated ugly fat friend) all my life. I was a super late bloomer. I didn’t know how to talk to people in general, let alone boys. So it was a little weird getting attention from the opposite sex, at first. But I got used to it real quick–especially, when the attention was coming from the older boys. You see, older boys had cars. I wasn’t a fan of taking the bus home. Do the math. My first boyfriend was 5 years older than me and to honest, I started dating him because I just needed a ride home. It wasn’t until much later that I decided that I kind of dug him. I actually think that this realization is where my love of older guys stemmed from (I only date older guys and it’s rare that I have a thing for a youngster).
Needless to say, I was running with an older crowd and I thought I was the bomb diggity. They did nothing but feed my ego. They would always tell me how cute and pretty I was and how so and so wanted to “hollar” at me (because that’s what the kids used to say). This is when I learned how to juggle boys. As a young teen, I already knew that one boy is never enough. And if I was dating someone, I always had someone waiting in the wing when we broke up. That’s just how cool I was.
When I went back to my grade school, no one recognized me. You better believe that the boys that I had crushes on were kicking themselves in the ass. I dated their new high school buddies just so I could prance around and show them what they missed out on (I love doing things out of spite). Half of my extended family didn’t even recognize me. My poor brother was all of a sudden the kid with the hot sister. I loved every second of it.
And I think that the bigger my ego became, the bitchier I became. I was so mean to ugly people. They were just so scary looking and I didn’t understand why they existed. I was a smart kid, but I stopped trying in school and just wing classes (and still ace them). I became more interested in boys and when I was going to see my boyfriend so I could sneak him into my room in the middle of the night to fool around. That’s all I cared about. For some reason, if I didn’t get laid it was the end of the world. I mean, technically, it still is, but back then I thought that I would die if I wasn’t getting it like every waking moment. Also, I thought I was the balls because I was the first one in my group of friends to lose the v-card. I scored some points there because all of a sudden I became this wise all-knowing person. As Lily stated earlier, for some reason, sex does wonders for people and attractive people need more sex than average looking people because they can.
Then there was the point where I just got ridiculously full of myself and just became a total bitch–think Cady Heron when she became the Queen Bee in Mean Girls. And I know that you think I am exaggerating, but I’m not. I was so conceited that I literally carried pictures of myself in my wallet. After a while, I just kind of got sick of seeing my face everywhere I looked, so I toned it down a notch. I’m still relatively bitchy and still take a lot of pictures of myself, but I don’t carry them around in my wallet. I have a my space for that. DUH!
Nowadays, I know that I’m not ugly. I actually think that I am pretty ridiculously good-looking. I’m definitely one of the most vain people that I know. I know that I get away with a lot of the things that I do because of the way I look. I know I get a lot of the things I get because I’m flippin’ adorable. I just don’t rub it in people’s faces as much as I did when I first realized it, I guess. Sure, I can leave my place without make up on and still turn a few heads. I have really good skin and could pull off the no make up thing. But if that’s what I have to do to help people feel good about themselves, so be it. I’m all for helping people build up their confi… and… uh…
…what was I talking about? I totally lost my train of thought. I totally just caught my reflection in the mirror.
But yeah, yay for being cute!
Awww. We are ridiculous.
Audrey Goes Gay
Lily and I have had this talk many a time: she believes that no one in this God forsaken world is a hundred percent anything– no one is a hundred percent straight or gay more specifically. However, she does agree with me when I say that I am the straightest person that we know. I am so grossed out by woman-ness. Quite frankly, vages scare me. C’mon… itty bitty humanoids come out of there and so does urine. You don’t think that is weird?
Anyways, the other night I went out to a gay bar with my main gay and soulmate, P.J., his boyfriend, and our friend, Maria. And you better believe that we were pretty sauced up at this point (at least I was). I killed off a bottle of Southern Comfort (ew! i know) and I was two beers in and high. We walk in there are hot guys everywhere. Of course, I have an internal conflict with this. Since Lily and I are constantly on the prowl (at least, I am anyway), I am totally in hunt mode. It’s just natural to me. But at the same time, none of these hot dudes are into me because they’re more into dudes. Silly me, I know. Unfortunately, the only straight dude that was there was a creepy fat dude who wanted me to dance for him.
But whatever. I wasn’t expecting to get laid at a gay bar. After a few more drinks, the bar became more and more crowded (and increasingly fabulous). They played Justin and you know, how I love my Justin, and then they played a little Britney– so I was totally busting a move. But then it happened. Lesbian after lesbian was grabbing my ass. I was manhandled by a bunch of lesbians. I felt a little violated–like my ass was no longer safe at a gay bar (and of all the places I thought my ass would be safe, I would of put money on the gay bar being the safest, but no, not so much). And there I stood in a room full of people, feeling the most alone I’ve ever felt in my life–scarred and afraid.
Now, I’m all about gay rights. My best friends are gay. But I’m awkwarded out by anyone touching me (when uninvited to touch that is). So, yeah, nothing reaffirms your heterosexuality like being manhandled by lesbians. And what was weird about being violated by LESBIANS? I think it is that they are worse than any dude that grabbed my ass–homegirls were going for chunks of ass. At least guys give you that creepy yeah, I just did that smile and you’re just skeeved out because they’re perverts. But Lesbians give you that YEAH! WHAT, BITCH? face and quite, frankly, it was scary. You better believe I my tush was against the wall the rest of the night, well, at least when I wasn’t stumbling around drigh (drunk and high).
The next day my ass was sore (that should tell you something about how hard it was getting grabbed).
I just want to take this time to let you all know that I love dudes. No matter how retarded and useless they are, they’re still pretty sweet. I am appalled by boobies and vag. They scare me. If it wasn’t for showers, I wouldn’t see myself naked ever. Dudes. Dudes. Dudes. I love dudes. Dudes in the morning. Dudes in the evening. Dudes at supper time. When I see a dude today, I’ll salute them just for being a dude.
COOCH! This is a video with Chris Crocker. You may know him as the “Leave Britney Alone” dude. He’s really funny. If you want to understand my feelings about woman parts, this is the video to watch because I could not have said any of this better. I completely agree with him on his views on the cooch. It’s a scary thing and I don’t understand the appeal of it (Boys, feel free to explain).
In other news, if you have read 30 Days of Night, like I have, do not go see the movie. I promise you nothing, but disappointment. You won’t appreciate it for what it is.
