So I am pretty much moved in. We have A LOT of work to do on the place. I am so tired I could cry. I have never had so much difficulty getting out of bed in my entire life. I helped Mike move in on Thursday and a little on Friday (he hired some guys to do all the heavy lifting, but I took charge of carrying in the pillows!) He in turn helped me move my stuff on Saturday. What a bitch that was. He deserves the best friend award for that one, but all he got was some Taco Bell and a massage.
My room is coming together nicely. I just got off Ikea's website. I ordered a cheap-ass ($10) night stand and dresser ($30!) They aren't top caliber, but they will do for now. I am broke as a joke and I spent last night developing an ulcer thinking about all my expenses coming up coupled with the fact I still owe my dad $1500. Discover would like a piece of me right now to, but to them I say "Get in line!"
We got Comcast digital cable. I sprung for a box in my room. We have 4 fucking golf channels! Who needs one golf channel much less 4?!?!? I will probably only watch 3% of the channels that we have. I don't really even watch TV in the summer. So I really thought that one out. Yeah.
I tried to take pictures of the apartment while still empty so I could grasp the vastness of it, but my camera didn't take well to her freshly charged batteries. What the hell? Why did I drop $300 on something that doesn't work half the time? Damn Circuit City! That silver-tongued salesman really worked me over for his commission that day. Hope hell is nice and toasty!
The weekend was aight. I looked hit by a truck 90% of it, but that's movin' for ya! I really didn't want to go out Friday night, but Mike is quite skilled in arm twisting (come on, please, I'll buy all your drinks! And did he. Hell no. I bought his. He's gooooooood.) I ended up hanging out with 5 gay guys. And boy do the gay men LOOOOOOOOOOVE me. Always have. I am kinda manly. Tall. Deep voice. Big breasts.
We went to the place called "The Closet" where I ran into my old dance partner when I did the show Grease. He looked a little thrown off and scared to see me. He never really came out when I knew him, but I was like um, dude, I knew you were gay. No shocker there. Now, supposedly "The Closet" is a lesbian bar, but it was 70% guys in there. I really don't think any of them were straight, but wouldn't going to a lesbian bar be a fun night out on the town for a straight man? In this case, not so much. Most of the chicks had facial hair. No lipstick lesbians? Check, please!
Saturday was the day from hell. Let's not revisit it.
Saturday night, I was in a pretty bad mood. I had no idea what I was doing. Mike left to go to some BBQ and wanted me to meet him there, but once again, it was all gay guys. I love hanging out with them, but I was in the mood for some straight lovin'. Randy called to see what I was doing. Jackpot!
I went to a friend's to drink his vodka (I was on a mission to not spend a dime) Kon and him and I headed over to the LP strip. I got bored after one drink and split. I knew I had to meet up with Mike because we only had one set of keys, so off to the gay BBQ I went. I got caught up in the Dan/Mike drama once again. They can't talk to each other, so they pretty much use me as a damn Chinese telephone. After I'd had my fill of that and vodka, Randy came to get me and I took him on a tour of the new place. His condo is PHAT, so the fact that he called my apartment a "Real World House" and told me how awesome it was meant a lot coming from him.
So I woke up naked and alone. Someone was banging on the door. I got scared, since we aren't really supposed to be moving in yet. I pulled Mike from his stupor and made him go to the door while I cowered under my duvet. It was the landlord (DOH!) dropping off the extra keys. He seemed a little put out that Mike was sleeping there. So I crawled into his bed and we discussed what happened the previous night. Funny thing is neither one of us really know. I had no idea where Randy was. He had no idea how he got home and into the apartment. I had his keys. But he woke up in his bed. FUNNIEST PART:We found some random jeans on his floor. Completely random. He swore up and down they weren't his. I know they weren't Randys (he's not really the America Eagle jeans wearing type.) So the question is, did Mike come home alone? How did those jeans end up on his floor? Why did he wake up alone? And most importantly, WHO THE HELL LEFT OUR PLACE WITHOUT THEIR PANTS???
Randy called to say I passed out so he left before anything happened. So I felt better about that. But poor Randy. This isn't the first time I have done that to him.
Damn, 11:28 and I have not done a lick of work. I really need a higher paying job to keep up with my newly extravagant lifestyle, but damn if the thought of actually having to work doesn't give me a headache. Part-time bartending, here I come!