Monthly Archives: September 2013

I Have No Idea Why Caffeine Is Not A Schedule 1 Drug

Disclaimer: All the coffee I pumped into myself that I thought wasn’t working just hit me like a freight train all at once and is therefore responsible for this off-schedule post. I also skipped my runs today and yesterday because I was exhausted and then also Tuesday because I was hungover. Three missed runs is basically the equivalent of keeping a border collie in a crate for 12 hours. It’s a disaster. Border collies are my spirit animal. We have a lot in common. I almost want to buy a house with a lot of land and pecan trees in Baldwin County, AL so I can get one. And also so I can go to the beach a lot. #landlockedblues

For the last 12 months or so, I’ve really been like “Ehh, am I really going to have kids? I’m pretty happy without them,” and the scale has been tipping more in favor of not having them someday than having them someday.

However, there are those rare occasions when someone posts something like this on the internet and I realize that I’m probably going to have four of them.

So, then I have to start thinking about “Who am I going to have them with?”

I know it’s kind of problematic to generalize because approaching things without an open-mind can be really limiting and you could miss out on something/someone awesome. However, without generalizations, we effectively have no experience. Sort of. That’s just how your brain works though. You encounter things, your brain processes them, then it categorizes them for easy storage purposes. We just don’t really hang on to isolated events that often.

So, in trying to solve this problem, I went straight to my brain data and mapped out the general experiences I’ve had with the 7 biggest career categories of people I’ve dated in the last 12 months.

You can’t argue with science. Even if it’s super fake science.

I have a general progression of hanging out with people of the opposite sex in one-on-one in dating-type outings or innings (or whatever word you’d use for hanging out at one of your houses/apartments). I don’t know if you can really call them dates because I never intend for them to be anything other than super casual non-committal experiences, but I really don’t know how to label this another way. You people know what I’m talking about. That’s all that matters. Not real dates. Liz dates. Got it? Okay.

Here’s the progression:

– We have nothing in common
– NVM, we have a lot in common
– This is pretty fun
– You’re kind of annoying
– I fucking hate you
– I love you

It’s totally maladaptive probably, but I can’t change it. It is what it is. And only one person ever has made it to the last stage which is unfortunate because, as we all know, it ended up being a relatively terrible three year period of my life. And, for the record, I’m not totally convinced that that the “I love you” part is correctly placed in the sequence here because I’ve only had one experience with it, but this is fake science so who cares?

Anyway… I made this terrible/confusing graph with MS Paint (where ALL my awesome graphs come from) to visually represent my general experiences with these 7 categories of men. I know it’s shitty to categorize people based on their careers, but I swear there are patterns.

guy graph

(You can click on the graph to see a bigger version if it’s too tiny for your weak eyes to read. I also forgot to add the physician plateau at the end. It should be right underneath the attorney plateau because trust me, that physician upward trend does NOT continue into the love stage unless I subconsciously intentionally forgot to add the plateau part. The math one also continues the up and down pattern forever.)

It looks like I may never love an engineer or a web developer, but we’d probably get along all right… at least well enough to have some kids together. And maybe I don’t want my marriage to be about crazy passionate love. I’m really all about stability/compatibility. I don’t wanna marry someone I’m head-over-heels crazy about. On a general level, all I need is something that’s decently enjoyable with a guy who’s reasonably attractive to me and wants the same things from life that I want. I’m not into this fairytale BS. Maybe my version IS real love though.

I could also be either super bitter and don’t know it or super naive at the really old age of 26. It’s hard to tell. I guess those two things aren’t really mutually exclusive either.

Also, for the record, I don’t hate lawyers and doctors. I just think that two people who both have similar characteristics of the narcissistic God complex variety should never be together.


Snow > Cockroaches

Every apartment I move into, I layer Raid on the doorway like I’m preparing for Passover. Godspeed, Liz. I’ll remember you fondly.
– Kelsey

There was a cockroach in my kitchen tonight and I was all alone because my roommates were asleep. Thankfully, the New Orleans ones seem to be about half the size of the Mobile ones and the cleaning supplies happened to be between me and the cockroach this time so I could grab something with ammonia and kill it, but I’m still seriously questioning why I voluntarily moved move this godforsaken place called the Gulf Coast.

If you have an OCD-level clean roommate and still somehow get a cockroach in your third floor apartment, you will probably never feel safe anywhere ever again. I know I won’t.

I’m pretty sure now I have to update my list of boyfriend/husband minimum requirements because I honestly didn’t think that having a cockroach in an apartment like this was possible and I just assumed that I’d always be able to find safe places to live.

#11: A potential boyfriend/husband must have grown up in a southern state and therefore have encountered enough medium- to large-sized cockroaches in his formative years to not be afraid of them whatsoever and therefore be willing to fiercely kill all of them on demand.

There is also nothing hotter than a guy saving your life in a badass super masculine way, so the boyfriend/husband will of course be rewarded handsomely. 😉

I can think of about 10 hyperfeminists who would totally call me out for wanting to be rescued, but if my options are to either let my gender down and set us back 200 years or continue to kill cockroaches by myself for the rest of my life, I’m totally going with the latter because, quite frankly, I am sick of this cockroach shit. Sorry, ladies. I will never ever ever be able to not totally freak out when I see one.

I’ve only encountered one in my apartment and one outside since moving here, which is considerably less frequent than what I experienced in Alabama. I seriously think that Mobile has an official Cockroach Welcome Wagon for kids that move from up north.

One crawled out of my bathtub drain while I was brushing my teeth on like day two of living there and I had literally NO idea what to do about it. I think I cried. I’m not overexaggerating for once. I really think I cried. Then I filled up the bucket I had recently used while deep cleaning the bathroom in order to get it up to my super high bathroom cleanliness standards and washed the cockroach back down the drain (thank the heavens there was enough water and my sneak attack was fast enough that it couldn’t crawl up the sides of the bathtub because I had no backup plan), put the bucket over the drain, filled it back up with water so the cockroach couldn’t tip it over from underneath and escape, then Drano-ed the drain the next morning. It worked… I think.

If that cockroach did outsmart me and entered my apartment that night, I’m really glad I never had to know about it. Maybe it came into my room and crawled on my face in my sleep like I’m pretty convinced the dead one I found in my hamper that one day a few months later must have done before it died. I don’t know. I’ll never know. I’m happier not knowing.

Anyway, since that first cockroach encounter was eons ago and I’m a pro at this now, I broke it down for yinz….

The 6-9 Stages of Seeing a Cockroach in Your Kitchen and Dealing (or Trying to Deal) With It

1) Experience total body numbness while your life flashes before your eyes and your sympathetic nervous system kicks in, somehow causing your body to back the fuck up and jump around enough to save your life
2) Panic from a safe distance while you mentally review all known cockroach killing methods and scan the scene for whatever potential weaponry is available to you based on the positions of yourself and the cockroach
3) Prioritize kill methods based on effectiveness and proximity while you make noise with your feet any time it moves to scare it enough to stop moving again
4) Pump yourself up and GO FOR IT. Yeah!
5) Regret that you didn’t live life more fully while you spend several minutes trying to kill it, knowing that it will probably win and you will probably die
6a) If it has escaped: Wish you were dead and realize that you won’t sleep soundly ever again until you move
6b) If you were successful: Stand still for a minimum of 20 minutes from a safe distance while you wait to see if it moves. If it moves, select your next option from step 3. Repeat steps 4 & 5

If 6b…

7) Muster up the courage to approach it then grab at least five paper towels (which is the minimum acceptable hand-to-roach barrier… 10+ paper towels is better) to surround it while you pick it up and throw it away
8) Stand still for a minimum of 20 minutes from a safe distance while you see if it moves in the garbage can. If it moves, approach the garbage area with your weapon(s) then attack again while simultaneously closing and tying the bag as fast as possible. If it doesn’t move, cover it with another paper towel so you never have to see it again
9) Sit around for hours thinking about every potentially unfortunate decision you made in the kitchen for the entirety of your residency at the location. That time last week when you ate the peanut M&M off the floor after it had been there way longer than 5 seconds? SO MUCH REGRET

If you’re wondering why I don’t skip step 8 and flush them instead, it’s because they can’t drown. Mythbusters proved it. I trust those guys.

If you flush cockroaches, you risk them re-infesting your house and the second time around, they have a serious vendetta against you and dirty poop water on them. No thanks. I prefer to watch them with my eyes until I can confirm that they will never move again.

Things That I’m Obsessed With: Tiny House Edition

Disclaimer: I’m way too hungover to blog about the last three days in sports and fantasy football. It would be a long/involved post. I feel nauseous when I think about writing all of that. This is all you get today. Blame the Pirates ❤ (I still don’t think this has totally sunk in yet, by the way. However, if you don’t count blackout drunk hours as life hours, I’ve really only had like six hours to process this so far.)

Re-reading Walden was the worst thing that has ever happened to my sanity. The whole environmentally/ethically conscious thing is a really slippery slope. Flexitarianism is working out really well so I’m more than enthusiastic about making other positive lifestyle changes.

I really feel like this particular tiny house obsession was situationally created by the fact that I feel like biggest asshole for just having purchased a pair of mirror aviator sunglasses… They make me look like a ginger version of this (but with a better face and better clothes/hair):

I put them on and I’m like “I AM SO COOL, but in a douchebag way. And I also look like the bad guy in Cool Hand Luke.” (No, but seriously, I’m the baddest boss bitch in them and they’re awesome)

In life, there needs to be balance though, so I’ve found this tiny house thing to mentally attach my hopes and dreams to right now. I just want to live simply and grow a lot of my own food and not have a lot of fancy possessions. I’ve kind of always wanted that though. These sunglasses are a fluke. Maybe. I also really want the iPhone 5c. I don’t even know who I am anymore.

Anyway, you can either get one that’s mobile or you can get one that’s permanent. I’m all about the permanent variety. Anything that you can tow with a truck  is too small for me to consider as actual daily living space. I would love to live my life on the road, but not like that.

Tumbleweed Houses seems to have the most popular options for permanent establishments. I’m basically IN LOVE with the Whidbey plan. 557 square feet plus loft space. I would totally do the two small lofts instead of one big loft and have an open kitchen/dining/living area.

Thanks to a solid run yesterday, I have now found the lot I would buy in my neighborhood if I was going to build this house. Then I came home and got the lot square footage from Zillow, mathed the dimensions via Google Maps, and priced solar panels for the self-sustainable part. Then I mentally picked out a paint color for the sides and door of the house, placed all my current and future furniture in the layout, decorated the interior, and planned where my driveway, carport, and garden would go.

Provided that New Orleans doesn’t have a stupid thing about square footage in their building code or that my house meets the minimum standard if they do, this is happening at some point.

It would be the ultimate bachelorette pad and my dog would have ample space for play time. The front room would be my office. The back room would have access to the outside and be my laundry/sewing room and also probably be where I kept all the shit that I canned since the kitchen doesn’t really have a ton of space. One loft would be my bedroom. The other loft would be my closet. DREAM LIFE.

I’m reverting back to the period of my life – circa 1995, probably – when I wanted to be an architect and drew nothing but dream houses (and three story dream treehouses with kitchens and bedrooms for all my friends) for approximately a year. Somewhere, there are notebooks full of floor plans done by an eight year old. I don’t actually draw the floor plans anymore. I just find other people’s and mentally accessorize them and then imagine what my life would be like in them. I’m crazy… actually crazy.

Add this tiny house thing to the list of pipe dreams. I do have a pretty high pipe dream realization rate, though. At least 50% of this shit comes true eventually at some point.

My Heart Flew Too Close To The Sun

I had high hopes for this evening.

The Buccos were going to get their 82nd win and end 21 years of sucking. The USMNT was going to continue their hot streak and win another qualifier and potentially clinch their World Cup spot.

I proclaimed that if these two events occurred, it was going to end up being the best 27ish hours of sports I’d ever experienced in my life.

Typical Icarus.

At least Mexico lost.

Also, there were a decent amount of Hondurans and Mexicans watching their game at my soccer pub. In terms of freak out levels, 1 Honduran = 50 Americans. So, that was cool, too. I was happy for them. I also realized that we need to get with it, people. We’re not nearly crazy enough when our team scores goals.

All of these new posts are basically going to be about sports. I really care about nothing else anymore.

Being single is kind of a sport so I guess I can mention that, too.

Some guy tried to hit on me tonight and he kinda looked like a Backstreet Boy because his hair and outfit were perfect in a metro douchey way. In my head, I was like, “You are at a soccer pub and I am a girl wearing a jersey. How do you think this is going to pan out for you?” At least he tried, I guess.

I seriously wish all the dorky/nerdy guys didn’t stay at home as much because I sure would like to meet them.

This Is My Year

Remember when I said that one man can only do so much? Apparently, I was wrong.

I love Peyton Manning more than burritos. I probably love him more than air.

Oh, and for the record, I dumped Baltimore’s defense before the game because that was a poor choice that I knew wasn’t going to ever pay off. I’m back with the week-to-week strategy for now.

Also, all you people who didn’t start Wes Welker can go cry yourself to sleep… especially if you started Eric “Butterfingers” Decker instead. To be fair though, we all thought it was gonna be more of a New Orleans situation where the ball gets spread around a lot (and I still think that’s what will end up happening in future games), so it was a tough call.

And I will admit that I was kind of wrong about Torrey Smith.  He only got .10 points less for me than he was projected to, but I really thought he was gonna have at least one TD and way more receptions. The guy who filled in for Champ Bailey was SOLID. I’m sorry about what I said regarding Denver’s defense. They’re not actually that big of a mess.

Finally… Danny Trevathan. HILARIOUS. But I’m really sorry that that other guy got hurt because of it. I’m also sorry that I obviously don’t know the names of anyone who plays for Denver.

Anyway, that game was damn entertaining. Today was like Christmas. And Christmas did not disappoint. (Although, never does though unless you’re a selfish/high-maintenance person with no soul or you don’t have a family or close friends, in which case, I will happily add you to the list of my family/friends and you can have Christmas with me!)

But the BEST part about this was not the fantasy points… it was absolutely 100% the fact that the Ravens got CRUSHED. Aside from a Steelers win, nothing makes me happier.

It’s gonna be a good year. I can feel it.

PS – For you non-Facebook folks, I finally got my 4F trophy pic together.

2012 Trophy Pic

The gif never panned out because I couldn’t find what I needed for it and I refused to compromise on the vision. I pulled this idea together about 2 hours before it was due and I’m pretty content with how it turned out for what I put into it. “No minute like the last minute,” I always say.

The Misogyny Is Strong With This One

OkCupid is the dregs of online dating. It’s basically a Pokedex of broken people and assholes.

It’s also a totally eye-opening look into the world. I honestly had no idea that so many people had totally reprehensible opinions/ideas regarding women.

For example, today, I found this…

You should message me if:

Looks wise you fall somewhere in between marginally above average and moderately unattractive. Anything higher then that and you’re running the risk of never having to develop a personality or interest because boys liked you anyway.

What the everloving fuck.

Even if it was a joke, it was a really shitty joke.

I Think I Pulled An Andre

This year, I’m in three 10-12 people PPR leagues. Since fantasy football is batshit insanely unpredictable, I decided to run a little experiment and see if we can conclude anything from it.

I drafted very differently in all three with the hope that at least one of these methods will lead me to a 2nd place finish in at least one league.

In the first league, I drafted very safely at the beginning (basically, in the second half of every draft, everything’s a risk on some level). In the second league, I took some calculated risks and drafted a few people a little higher than I should have. In the third league,  I took ALL the risks and this might be a very bleak situation.

I’ve never had a stress ulcer, but I think my team in the third league is going to be the cause of several. I’ve already lost sleep because of it. Trying to sleep earlier was nonstop tossing and turning and “What have I done?” misery. I’m typing this at 3:30AM. Don’t draft right before bed, guys. You need several hours to process the repercussions of your actions. I also had coffee after 7PM, but that hardly counts as a contributing factor in this particular insomnia episode, I feel.

Anyway… the team (not in draft order since I’ve already messed with my Week 1 lineup eight times):


God help me.

Yahoo gave me a D on my draft report card and said I’m going to lose every game. That’s a little harsh/unnecessary, Yahoo. I could say some shitty things about how much it sucks to do anything on your fantasy football site this year thanks to your design updates, but I refuse to stoop to your level. Plus, the people who autodrafted got As and Bs and we all know how that works out every year. I think their report card system is total garbage.

That doesn’t mean I feel okay about any of this, however.

I might probably will need Peyton Manning to be my knight in shining armor. However, one man can only do so much.

Also, since I failed to screenshot the kicker/defense spots, I need to add that Baltimore is my defense in that league. (I know. I feel like throwing up every time I think about it.) We’ll chalk that one up to AFC North bias and usually, drafting Baltimore is a solid move or even a good move. This year, it could be a bad move considering how many things have changed.

Also, my RB situation makes me want to drown myself in Lake Pontchartrain. My brain was like “Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it,” right before I drafted every single one of those guys, but my right index finger was like “YOLO.” I have literally zero safe bets at that position.

If DeAngelo Williams doesn’t get his shit together, I definitely am going to drown myself and I’m considering dropping Sam Bradford RIGHT NOW to make space for Ben Tate so that when Arian Foster proves to be a terrible draft pick, at least that base is covered.

I’ll deal with the backup QB situation when week 9 rolls around and hope that nothing happens to Peyton Manning at any point during the season. I don’t believe in keeping backup QBs around anyway, really. If your starting QB goes down at any point, you’re just shit out of luck no matter what you’ve done or will do. You’re not going to win. Why pretend like having a solid backup is going to save you? I still stand by my prediction that Sam Bradford is gonna have a good year, but my pitiful RB situation is already forcing me to make some tough decisions only six hours after the draft ended.

I don’t think my WR situation is as dire (although Yahoo seems to think I lost my mind in that department) but it’s going to take some very careful managing. Setting your WR lineup is almost total guesswork to begin with, so I’m basically going to be freaking out every week and overanalyzing every possible variable. The fact that I feel any hope about these WRs working out for me at all is based on the assumption that they’re all going live up to the potential that I feel they have that no one else agrees with. And I don’t think that’s a good assumption to base anything on.

Like… T.Y. Hilton? WTF is he doing on my team? It was a mix of “I don’t know how I feel about this Reggie Wayne business” and/or “If this goes well, he could be good trade bait.” I don’t totally trust Andrew Luck anyway so I don’t know why I have two Indianapolis receivers in my team. I’m basing this off how those three people were performing at the end of last season and just assuming that they’ll keep improving and I really don’t think that’s really an advisable way to approach this type of stuff… especially since they have a new offensive coordinator. To be honest, I watched zero Colts preseason games.

Also, Miles Austin’s hamstrings better deliver.

On top of everything, we have to count Week 8 as a loss right off the bat since at least half my team has a bye that week. Sometimes I think that’s maybe a good strategy though. Maybe it’s better to take a huge hit one week and know you’re gonna lose by a lot instead of just barely losing for like three to five weeks due to one or two key players having bye weeks each of those three to five weeks. If I haven’t dropped all my players due to incompetency before Week 8, I’ll let you know how this mini-strategy pans out.

That might be my second best idea ever after the whole “get a new defense every week” strategy in leagues without a super competitive waiver situation. The defense thing is obviously a TERRIBLE idea in leagues with waiver limits too, but who the fuck wants to set waiver limits in their leagues? Oh, my ex-boyfriend because he hated that my awesome strategy was effective and he’s a soulless/unfair loser/person.

Anyway… like everything having to do with this particular team, the Week 8 mini-strategy is probably going to be my worst idea ever in reality.

Really, the only thing I do feel really confident about is Peyton Manning. 1) He’s Peyton Manning. 2) His WR situation is Also, drafting Vernon Davis was a pretty legit decision, I think. His stats aren’t gonna be abysmal like they were last year. It’s not an ideal pick, but for some reason, TEs went fast in this league. He was one of my “Oh, shit… I didn’t really plan for this” guys.

Ulcers. Seriously. They’re coming. Every year, I get nothing but stress from fantasy football. It’s not fun. I swear I’m going to quit every year and then I never do. July rolls around and I’ve forgotten how much I hate this and my whole body is like, “I CAN’T WAIT UNTIL DRAFT TIME. I’M GOING TO DIE FROM ANTICIPATION.”

Who created this game? What heartless creature decided that this was going to be a healthy/worthwhile thing for people to do?

I calculated my predicted 2013 fantasy football stress using an arbitrary measurement system of “fantasy football stress units.”

League 1: stress of participating at all (1 unit) + stress of playing with new people (1.5 units) + stress of being the only girl (2 units)
League 2: stress of participating at all (1 unit) + stress of playing with new people  (1.5 units) + stress of being the only girl (2 units) + stress of questionable choices (1.25 units)
League 3: stress of participating at all (1 unit) + stress of playing with some new people (.75 units) + stress of VERY questionable choices (8 units)

League 1: 1 + 1.5 + 2 = 4.5
League 2: 1 + 1.5 + 2 +1.25 = 5.75
League 3: 1 + .75 + 8 = 9.75

4.5 + 5.75 + 9.75 = 20

20 units of stress. My heart is going to stop completely at some point. Probably before the 2nd week of October. I guess the one thing that could prevent that from happening the possibility of my third team being so bad that I give up on them after Week 2.

I know you never accomplish anything great without putting everything on the line, but I’ve maybe gone too far with this one. At the risk of sounding too dramatic, someone please just hold me while I curl up in the fetal position and cry.