Times are changin’


Okay, so forget Austin.

I’m over it.

Austin was fun, but multiply part one by two and three and I’m sure you can do the math.

Right now, I want to be at the bar playing pool. Why?

There’s sticks, there’s balls and they don’t belong to a skeezy guy.

What am I doing instead?

Pouring myself a glass of ice cold soda as I wait for the Google results of “How to cut a pineapple.” Yeah. True story.

While I’d love to tell you 4 non blondes style what exactly is going on, I can’t.

A) I don’t need to be drinking caffeine this late at night.

B) Does everyone already just arrive on this planet with the innate knowledge of how to cut a pineapple?

Pineapples are all spiky like they’re trying to warn you about something fruity, which is now interchangeable with fishy, which someone thought was interchangeable with suspicious. So yeah. Pineapples are all spiky like they’re trying to warn you about something suspicious like…

Hey. Open up this pineapple and you might find yourself drinking soda in the middle of the night instead of playing pool. How do you like them apples? You obviously don’t, because here you are with a fucking pine version of something that poisoned the purest of Disney princesses. Ick.

So here’s the thing. Times are changin’. I’ve heard people say it in the general “the world is gonna’ end” sort of way, but now I really believe it.

Times are changin’.

I’m losing my dream apartment. I’m losing my fave roommate Catman Connor. I’m losing weight. Most importantly, I’m losing this negative attitude.

So yeah, I’ll admit, I burnt my candle at both ends.

It’s completely gone now.

So in the future, when someone asks me to hold a candle to some swimsuit- model-resembling ex-girlfriend I can be all like…Sorry don’t have one.

But I’ll tell you what I do have. A pineapple. A motherfucking pineapple.

I’m not sure what the next few months have in store for me. It could be good. It could be bad. It could be…fruitful? Who freaking knows?

All I know right now is that…

I’m pretty nervous for my internship. I may need a storage unit for my shoes alone. I’m going to miss a lot of my friends next year. And…

Times are changin’.

But more on all this later, I’ve got soda to drink, pineapple to cut and time to change.

How To Cut a Pineapple Like a Badass


It’s Like My Dad All Over Again

Dating, Humor, Relationships

I went to the bar to casually (may or may not) meet someone for drinks. Unfortunately this someone had become a serial bailer which I only 3/4 expected.

Luckily his absence landed me the attention of a dreamy young man shooting pool. Unfortunately after making out in the front seat of some old fashioned car to which I could not figure out the fucking door handle, he started to throw around catch phrases.

“I don’t want you to think I just wanted to sleep with you,”

“We should go upstairs,”

“I think you’re interesting. As a person.”

“So, my ex-girlfriend…”

He had gone from 0-60 so fast and was not even using his cool car in the process.

I was like…Who said anything about all that?

I mean your face is a 10 but let’s face it your body’s more like a 6 and mine’s dancing dangerously between a 7 and 8.

Okay okay, I’ll admit I have always been bad with numbers. My body is probably more 4-6 range but hey who wants an equal partner? I am looking to trade up!

His playbook cited phrases led me to an extremely long attempt at getting out of the car. Again, that door handle was fucking difficult as fuck and this girl has been blue balling it since high school.

While I could have left the car upset at his blatant attempt to sleep with me or for making out with some random guy, I mostly felt awesome that I finally kissed someone who wasn’t my ex-boyfriend. Can someone say bucket list?

In addition, most of my ex-boyfriends had not been so generically attractive so I was stoked. I mean my high school sweetie was kind of a babe but I think I yawned through the majority of our relationship.

Needless to say, I spent the next day mostly forgetting that “I” came before “J” in the alphabet and awaiting the return of my favorite roommate.

I returned to our apartment to find the rent money laid out on my bed in neat columns. I was like…Does this mean we’re going to the strip club? Couples lap dance say what?!

We didn’t.

My roommate’s old flame has moved back into town so he already had plans. As he stood in the doorway I pleaded him to stay (mostly for dramatic effect). I picked up our mini basketball and said these charming words…

“It’s like my dad all over again,”

We both laughed and he left…which actually worked pretty well considering I already had plans for the night too (that phrase applies to my dad as well wink face). Unwink face, dad and wink face in the same statement is creepy as fuck.

I went and had dinner with my old roomies Preston, Conner and James where for 3 whole minutes thought about how upsetting it was that people in the world were starving without food and other nourishment…until the waitress dropped off our chips and queso and I was like…Whoah Savannah! Charitable you is so 3 minutes ago! 

But back to my roommate…

Despite my roomies’ dollar layout on my bed there is a part of me that wished I would have waited for him to go pay the rent because our landlord always gives me such a hard time. This time their office had a new nickname for me.

Drinking Queen.

I played it off all cool…Whatever could you mean?

She was like…

“Your name is on a chair at the bar,”

I was all like…

“You noticed that huh?”

I am sure my parents would love that nickname.

They probably ask one another daily…

Oh honey, aren’t you glad we raised such a beautiful, hard-working, intelligent, loving, again beautiful alcoholic?

Yes. The answer is yes every time.

I used to try and hide my hangovers from them (i.e. wearing sunglasses at the breakfast table – “No it’s not because I’m light sensitive!”), but now I just explain to them what really happened.

Mom! Dad! So I was walking home last night and the craziest thing happened! This large, dark-skinned man walked up to me and held me at gunpoint telling me I would not be released until I took 6 shots of whiskey, 2 shots of vodka, drank a couple beers and shot a few games of pool. What was a girl to do? Aren’t you SO relieved I am safe at home right now?

Anyhow, when Connor got home we talked about our time apart. His was good. Mine was good. Somehow (I really have no idea how. Really. No idea.) he got this impression that some crazy shit went down with me while he was gone.

It kind of did (story for another post). Nothing, however, he would find interesting.

He did.

He starting roaming around my room saying that he was going to get to the bottom of this.

I was like…

“Good luck,”

That was the moment I realized I sounded like a Taken trailer. Again, can someone say bucket list?

He picked up a pair of inside out jeans on the floor and said…

“It looks like there was a struggle,’

Believe it or not, he is as awful a person as I am.

Long story short, my roommate is back say what?!

I’m 5 days hungover say what?!

And…I can now without a doubt assure you I do not care one bit about world hunger. (*whisper* say what?!)

My parents are proud.