Late night antics...

At around 1:45 I wake up to a noise on the other side of my slightly ajar door. I immediately pop up and can see a shed of light beaming through from the living room. I think "hmmm that is strange" as the lights were most definitely off when Tito and I retired to our rooms at around 11:15. I immediately assumed it was our new roomate because this has never happened with Tito (when she was sober). So I wait for a few moments to see if another sound comes but I hear nothing. No TV, no rustling, nothing...just lights.

Anyway I roll over assuming she is just getting something or maybe watching TV. Minutes later I hear a slight banging sound...as if something is being dropped. I open my eyes and still the lights are on but silence yet again. I fall back asleep for a period of time to wake up again to the sound of a clatter. Again I wait but as with the last two times no further noise. The lights are still on and clearly someone is roaming the apartment. I fall back asleep after a period of time, wake up at around 3 and the lights are out.

On my way to work I text Tito wondering if she had also heard this rustling in the wee hours of the morning. She says she was passed out most of the night except when she awoke at 1230. Tito did however find some crackers distributed upon our kitchen counter. Now this experience was out of the ordinary but not alarming or upsetting in any manner so I was not to concerned however I did find it strange and wanted to know if we have a midnight snacker on our hands. Then Tito sent me correspondence from the new roomie.

"oh man
total slacker this morning
a quick hello turned into drinks til 2 am
woops"

I believe that I have uncovered that our new roomie is indeed a drunk prowler/midnight snacker and I like it. She is going to fit in quite well. I find this to be extremely interesting and always love to add a new character in my life. I shall call her Mouse.

Dessert Wine is the Devil

The Christmas Tree lighting in New York City is quite the event. Celebrity sightings, musical guests and performances, the mayor...blah blah blah. This year Tito and I were invited by my sister and our mutual best friend (aka the Bird) to a company party in a office building located in Rockafellar Center. Their office was throwing a nice little gathering and thankfully close friends and family were welcome to attend. I am talking nice families who spend their weekends at Home Depot and Bed, Bath and Beyond and what we brought was Frank the Tank and his green hat.

Tito and I sauntered down the halls like we owned the joint. It wasn't long before we had polished off a bottle of vodka and were found raiding the "community" refrigerator for some additonal alcoholic beverages. We office hopped from the SVP of Digital Sales to VP of Sales, Planning and Operations to Sales Director of the East Coast. We were everybody's best friend yet nobody knew who we were or who we belonged too.

At around 10PM Tito and I were completely pixellated and could be found mesmerized by the treasure we had stumbled upon. The SVP of Digital Sales was hosting a Rock Band party and we NEEDED to sing. It had been quite sometime since we had used our candle stick holders as imitation microphones to belt out the lyrics of Heart's "Alone." We were practically squirming with excitement when we were spotted by the Bird. She informed us that we were not employees of the company and it was completely inappropriate for us to join in the Rock Band fun.

I have a feeling that the Bird was a bit jeally that Tito and I were about to rock the mic at her holiday party. You see, the Bird has been dealing with medical issue regarding her vocal cords. Apparently she has these nodules on her vocal cords causing her to have a hoarseness in her voice. Treatment for these so called nodules requires that she attend voice therapy conducted by a speech therapist in order to teach her how to speak or sing without straining her vocal cords. Basically her the sounds coming out of her mouth while singing sound like a cross between a donkey and a screeching owl. Tito and I knew the therapy sessions had not been very successful and we felt completely defeated by the Birds extreme opposition to us having fun so we felt we had no choice but to retaliate.

SVP of Digital Sales: Ok, who is up on the mic?
Me: (ushering Big Bird in the office) The Bird has the voice of an angel. She would be more then happy to help you out.
The Bird: No that is ok
Me: VOICE OF AN ANGEL
SVP of Digital Sales: Step right up Bird
The Bird: No No
Me: VOICE OF AN ANGEL...VOICE OF AN ANGEL...RIGHT HERE WE HAVE THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL.

Three minutes later the Bird was serenading the entire office in her rendition of the Beatles song "Help" on Rock Band. She is no longer employed with that company.

After hours of boozing and successfully torturing the Bird, Tito and I felt that it was best to retire to our aparment. Neither of us particularly remember the journey home but we did make it and upon arrival at our apartment Tito decided to crack open the bottle of dessert wine that she had received from a client. If anyone has ever thought about tasting dessert wine I tell you right now that it is not tastey and it is extremely strong. It tastes like rock candy that has been melted down and mixed with rubbing alcohol. Needless to say Tito and I had about two FULL glasses of this shit.

We bombarded Dr. Jones' room and sprawled ourselves on the floor and attempted communication. Tito could not complete a single sentence relating closely to this, "I just feel...Like I know...Sometimes it just seems....You just have to..." Eventually Dr. Jones kicked us out and we all resorted to our own bedrooms. Somewhere around 3AM Dr. Jones hears a ruffle of her bed sheets. She looks up and sure enough at the bottom of her bed, she finds Tito leaning on her bed and staring adoringly into her cable box.

Dr Jones: Tito
(Silence)
Dr Jones: Tito are you ok?

Tito slowly sits down at the edge of the bed and stares into the blank abyss before her. Dr. Jones gets up and begins to escort Tito back to her room. About halfway there Tito realizes that she has to use the restroom. Dr. Jones leads Tito to the bathroom and is sure to stand guard in case there is a problem. After waiting for a good ten minutes, Dr. Jones cracks the bathroom door open only to startle Tito as she was peacefully slumbering on the bowl with her pants around her ankles. Tito, moving somewhat like a ball in a pinball machine, gets herself together and Dr. Jones walks her to room. Right before entering Tito throws her arms up in the air in celebration and dive bombs her bed. Both Tito and I woke up in the morning feeling as though our brains were swollen. Tito has zero recollection of her late night adventures and we have both sworn to NEVER drink dessert wine again.

I'mmmm SUPER..thanks for asking

As some of you may know I work at a lawfirm. About two years ago I was introduced to a new process at my office which required an initiation conference call. I setup the call like a dutiful employee and made sure to set my calendar reminder to that I could be in the attorney's office at least 10 minutes prior to the call.

At 1:50pm, I gather the file and head towards the attorney's office. My boss,Tito Rodriguez...please note Tito and Tito Rodriguez have no resemblance and are not the same individual, I shall call her T-Rod. T-Rod, who was just getting over an obbsession with the South Park movie, stops me along the way summons me into her office and asks me to close her door. I walk inside and sure enough the attorney I have a call with is sitting there waiting for me. We can call him the Chief.

I sit down and T-Rod says, "Batman, I am sure you know why we brought you in here." So I sit there in silence with a look of confusion and fear on my face. Quite honestly I had no idea what I did. T-Rod looks from me to the Chief and back again. "Jussssssst Kiddddddding" T-Rod sannounces as she presses play on her strategically placed iPod. Next thing you know "I'm Super" is blasting from the speakers:

Bombs are flying

People are dying
Children are crying
Politicians are lying too
Cancer is killing
Texaco is spilling
The whole world has gone to hell
But how are you?

Im super, thanks for asking

All things considered I couldn't be better

I must sayIm feeling super

No, nothing bugs me

Everything is super when you're

dont you think I look cute in this hat

The song was played for the entire minute and 45 seconds while both of my bosses were singing along and bouncing around on their chairs like two children at the Hoopdeedoo Review in Disney World. Before I knew it I was mimicking their behavior with a smile from ear to ear. The song ended yet we all continued to match the lyrics until 1:59pm when the Chief and I realized that we needed to call in to our conference call.

We jumped up and made our way over to the Chief's office. We sat down and as he is dialing in we are both still humming the song out loud and giggling. The conference call connects. Then out of no where...like I had zero control over my mouth and it was acting completely separately from the rest of my being, I scream at the top of my lungs..."IMMMMM SUPERRRRRRR!!!"

My boss takes one look at me and without hesitation hits the speaker button and hangs up the phone. A look of astonishment comes across his face and we both complete lose our shit and start hysterically and uncontrollably laughing. After five minutes of laughing and an additional five mintues of brain storming to explain why there would be someone howling South Park songs on the call in line, we call back in. The Chief indicates that he is sorry for the delay and there must have been some disconnect as the lines tend to get crossed with the radio. .

My first conference call did not go as planned. I must admint I have improved quite a bit but for some reason I still can not control what my mouth chooses to say. This is evident from the fact that I no longer even get pulled into the office for a talk about my behavior. Now they just call my name and give me the "what the fuck?!?!" face. For instance....

Last week I was discussing with a co-worker how a client was making triple my salary. She told me to stop getting my panties in a bunch as they were only making double.

Co-worker: Ugh...That is annoying but they don't make triple your salary.

Batman: Triple

Co-worker: Stop getting your panties in a bunch! It's only double.

Batman: Tripppleeeee

Co-worker: blah blah blah blah

BATMAN: TRRRIPLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEE TRIPLLLE TRIPPAAAAAAALLLLL

T-Rod: BATMAN!

I peek my head into her office. T-Rod is on the phone and the "what the fuck?!?!" face is staring at me.

I turn on my heel giggling the entire way and decide it were best that I remain quiet for some time. Forty-five minutes later T-Rod is making her way down the hall. As she is walking by me with the "what the fuck?!?!" face permanently displayed in my direction. T-Rod goes, "Seriously, Batman! Are you serious?" I say nothing but look back with my most innocent grin and utter so it is just audible to her ears "Triple." And she stormed off in a rage. Mission complete :)

Trick or Treat....What's in your bag?

In my bag you could find the following:

book;
broken umbrella;
one (1) peanut butter cup;
one (1) snickers bar;
picture of a dancer;
torn of issue of Sports Illustrated;
package of kitty litter bag liners; and
(drum rolll please)
sheet music to the Titanic song, "My Heart Will Go On"

Just call me Mary Poppins

Majority Rules

One Sunday in June, myself, Tito and our mutual friend Daddy ventured out of the apartment for a stroll down 3rd Ave. It was gorgeous day and a street fair was a brewing, so we decided that instead of wallowing in our own miserable hangovers we would venture out for some walking, shopping and over-indulging. After an exasperating five blocks in what felt like the desert sun we decided to make a stop at the local bar, known as the Stumble Inn, to say hi to a friend. Little did we know that a Sunday Funday was about to get underway.

Our friend, the bartender, mentioned his discovery of a new liquor and offered us a drink...no charge. "It's called Firefly. It's sweet tea vodka," he says has he pours a healthy amount in three glasses and mixes it with water. "Ummm I don't think so. I am going to need a different mixer," I said, but he ensured me that it was not necessary. Well Mr. Bartender you are a godsend...it was as if Tito, Daddy and I had found the elixir of life. We couldn't believe our taste buds. It was the most delicious drink to have crossed our drinking path. It tastes exactly like an ice tea with zero trace of any alcohol...kind of like jungle juice minus the fruit punch. Some people may drink this with caution however we looked at Firefly as a blessing in disguise. The fact alone that it can be compared to a commonly served Frat House special is reason to believe this drink is trouble but tapping into our college days we drank it with ease.

Within the first two drinks the day had deemed Majority Rules. Either Tito, Daddy or myself were allowed to make any request and as long as one of us agreed, all three of us had to partake in the activity. Two bars, four shots, $200 worth of sweet teas and a fake cheese nacho platter later we were downtown at Brother Jimmy's and I found myself hovering over the skee ball machine chanting "Recession Special! Recession Special! Recession Special!" Apparently everytime a $1 was entered into the dollar slot $2 would come out. Any normal person would insert as many dollars as they could. I went there with $1 in my wallet and came out with $3. In my opinion the day was successful.

At around 9PM Tito and I decided that it was time to go home. Daddy was no where in sight so we left him in our dust and hopped in a cab. The ride home was relatively painless until we reached our destination. As we were pulling up to our apartment I realized that Tito was much more intoxicated then I thought. I asked her to retrieve my wallet so that I could pay for the cab. She replied, "Baaatman, no it's fffffine. Don't worry about it. I got it," as she slid out of the cab and placed her wobbly legs onto the pavement. "But Tito I need my wallet to pay," I said to which she said, "no it's fine. I got it." Tito repeatedly note that she "got it" although from what I was seeing she had no intention of paying for the cab. In fact, her intention was to slam the door in my face and leave me alone minus my wallet, keys and any form of communication with an impatient driver illegally pulled over on the side of 2nd ave awaiting payment and cars whizzing by and screaming obsenities in my direction.

Instead of rolling down the window and screaming her name or getting out of the cab I thought the best option was to return to the scene of the crime. "31st and Lex" I screamed. The driver took off in a rage and started grilling me regarding my current financial and quite hopeless state,

"Where did she go? you owe me..."

"Brother Jimmy's"

"But who is going to...",

"Brother Jimmy's"

"I want my..."

"Brother Jimmy's".

"This is ridiculous, you owe me...:"

"Brother Jimmy's"

I'm almost positive at one point it turned into a sing along however I was much more jubilant then he turned out to be. Almost immediately he started to berate me noting that I was to drunk and I had no means to pay for the cab, to which I started to cry. I mean I was the innocent victim here. It wasn't my fault Tito had got so wasted she couldn't pay for the cab. I had the funds they just weren't with me. The driver had no sympathy his lecture was endless. I felt like I had just been caught with marijuana for the first time and my parents had hired a DARE officer to come discuss substance abuse (This is a true story...but not my own.). I was ashamed. My head hung low between my knees and and I contemplated my life.

Twenty minutes later the driver was screaming as I awoke with my head buried under the front passenger side seat. I scrambled to sit up and he escorted me by the elbow out of the cab towards Brother Jimmy's. The bouncer asked me for my ID which of course I did not have and I broke down in tears once again. Without saying a word he ushered me in the door. I have no idea what I thought was going to happen upon entering Brother Jimmy's. I walked into the bar and every head turned to me. It was 10PM an hour after I had left, my hair was matted to my face from either sweat or tears. Then I saw him. "Daddy!!!!" I screamed as I clobbered towards him like a Clydesdale. Daddy was at a loss for words, not only had I left him there to fend for himself but I had also just ruined his game by barging in on him looking like Jessie Spano when she was on caffeine pills. ("I'm so excited, I'm so excited, I'm so, I'm so... scared!") Daddy sat me down, made a round of calls, went outside to the cab driver and gave him a firm talking to, and sent me on my way with his credit card in hand.

Back on the upper east side, Dr. Jones walks into Tito's room only to discover her scantily dressed, on her knees, body halfway under her bed scouring the floor in the dark with her cell phone as means of a flashlight. It appears that Tito had lost her belongings as well. Dr. Jones recovers our items and passes them along to their respective owners. "Tito is an asshole," Dr. Jones mutters as she closes her door.

All in all a successful Sunday Funday...

Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

In the past two days I have acquired, free of charge, a Cup of Noodles, Healthy Choice microwavable soup, an omelette, tickets to a Yankee game and a package of Kraft singles cheese (expiration date in December...Sweet!). Some of you must be thinking this girl is a recession special hooker. No no although sometimes my job makes me feel like Im getting anally raped.

For those Yankee fans, I went to the game last night and it was amazing! The day started off good yesterday since I discovered that I would be eating lunch. Tito emailed me asking if I wanted to go to the game, I immediately responded, "Yes I would indeed go watch the Yankees in the FIRST GAME OF THE PLAYOFFS!" After debating for the better part of my morning whether or not I should ask her if she wanted to take road sodas ( I mean I didn't want her to think I was a drunk), she emailed me "should we bring cocktails on the train since we are obvi to poor to really drink there?...or should it be a sober evening?" She was obviously feeling me out with the "sober evening" comment and clearly didn't want to seem like a boozehound. Naturally I responded that I would love to bring a drink for the ride. Our only problem was what to do when we got to the game? Tito, that sly little sucker, concocted a clever plan to hide flasks in our UGGS! I knew she was my friend for a reason.

The rest of my day I anxiously awaited five o'clock. I couldn't even contain my excitement... Im talking Rocky Balboa...bouncing on the balls of my feet and throwing invisible punches excited! The moment the clock struck 5 I was out of the my office faster then KFed could eat a cheeseburger. I walked in my apartment threw down my items rushed to my room and changed into my Arod jersey (don't judge me). "Bad news.. the flasks are too big, but its ok we will just make stiff drinks. Do you want whiskey or captain's?" Secretly in my mind I thought, whiskey..duh, but I didn't want to seem selfish. "I'll drink whatever, Im Polish" was my response. Whenever I mention I'm Polish people immediately feel bad. Kind of how you feel when someone tells you they are a Mets fan. "Great because I hate whiskey" she replied. God was on my side. We polished off our drinks outside the stadium and made it to our seats just in time to see the jete bang out a two run homer in the third. "I should probably warn you I put about 3/4 of the flask of whiskey in your Pepsi" she says after we go in for the high five and miss my a millimeter. The drunk had creeped up on me before I even knew it... sneaky sneaky whiskey.

Tito quickly became friends with the strapping young lad sitting next to her and I became friends with the billy goat on my left. This guys beard was outlandishly bushy and the teeth that he had left in his mouth were all pointing directly at me...that was just my luck. Tito felt it was necessary to get a beer so she disappeared into the night in search of a beer vendor. Ten minutes later she was back in her seat, two beers in hand which she claimed was free from an extremely large version of Gary Coleman. We guzzled them down and flagged down the next beer man who came within 100 feet. I don't really know what happend in the next four innings but I do know that the tables had turned and the beer man was now flagging us down. "Last call ladies! what do you want?" Twenty dollars flew in his direction and I shoved the beers in my purse like I was harboring drugs.

I would like to tell you how the rest of our travels went but everything is a little fuzzy. I feel as though we walked for quite some time, but from where? and for how long? I can not recall. Now, I am the kind of person that will come home from a night of drinking and feel it is necessary to mask the fact that I am completely shitfaced. Our other roomate, Dr. Jones, had a sober night of learning therefore I felt a little insecure given my state of mind. I'm pretty sure I was handling myself quite well for the first five minutes but then they came...the hiccups. Absolutely uncontrollable, in between words and sentences, there was no pattern to them. Just whenever they wanted to pop in and say "Hic-cup". I tried hiding there presence but we all know when you hold them in there is a very good chance that you will end up vomiting everywhere. After a while I gave up and went to bed but not before I called every person in my phone book. I woke up this morning and I felt like this:

I am spent.

No more monkey's jumping on the bed

I hate when people sleep in my bed, unless it is under my conditions of course. And I simply can not understand when people enjoy sleeping in a bed together. If and when I ever decided to take a leap of faith and tie the knot with some unfortunate fool I will be suggesting the modernized Dick Van Dyck approach, meaning my husband and I will have two queen sized beds in our room. On nights where we choose to do the hanky panky we can play musical bunks.

In college I had a roomate who woke up uncomfortably early and her main activity was to bed hop and see who she could annoy the most. Of course after the first night of her antics I learned that locking the door would be my only option and god forbid there were a fire I would just have to suffer the consequences. The door lock immediately became my most trusted asset that year and I am sad to say that I was not blessed with a lock in my current living situation. On rare occasions I will get visits from my roomate, lets call her Tito for the sake of her privacy, who insists on informing me when she comes home after a night of debauchery.

"I'm Home!" she screams as she whips open the door and turns on the light. Not only does she completely interrupt my boozey haze, but she also awkwardly stands there swaying on the spot waiting for me to do something. As if I am going to get up and do a dance of joy that she has made it home safe and sound. After a few minutes of awkward silence she reverts to her own room to catch some vodka provoked zzzzzzz's.

Anyway, two weekends ago Tito had some friends over to visit for the weekend. The drinking began around 7 and by midnight everyone was preparing to hit up a drinking establishment because five hours of drinking is just not enough. I took the responsible route and went to bed at around two and I woke up on Saturday morning to a strange little elfling sleeping next to me. My back was pressed up against the wall and there was a size 7 foot placed in the center of my C cups. The thought of a foot touching me was enough to make me want to beat her senseless but was even worse was when I went to move her leg and it shot back at me like a rubber band, completely knocking the wind out of me and practically fracturing my sternum. I rolled over in pain only to wake up three hours later sans elfling who later informed me that she was utterly bewilered when she arose to the sound of her own fart. Not only had this elfling snuck into my bedroom and kicked me in the chest but she had released her scent upon me and I had continued to marinate in it for three hours.

I could not complain as I have crossed boundaries when it comes to overtaking someone's bed. On a post college trip to Puerto Rico with seven of my more adult friends, five of us including myself embarked upon a game of power hour drinking Coors and sneaking in the ever so famous Puerto Rican favoritem, Medalla. Two of the crew (later nicknamed Mom and Dad) were particularly cranky as they spent more then half the vacation arguing over where their shared 2x2 beach bag was located. The night turned weird and the only thing I can remember is charging the master bedroom where Mom and Dad lay slumbering peacefully. With all the energy we had left we leapt on the bed and jumped up and down completely disregarding any body parts that may be in the way and yelled at the top of our lungs repeatedly "FUCKERS! FUCKERS! FUCKERS!" Shortly after that we deemed ourselves the masters of the universe and the rest of the trip was ours to rule! At least that was how I felt.

Three years later and a wedding under there belt Mom and Dad seek revenge. On a lonely Tuesday night one of the masters of the universe, also known as the King lay in her bed dreaming of flowers and rainbows, or cheese and raw meat whatever you choose to believe, when Mom and Dad attack. They wail open her door and storm her bed like the animals they were born to be. The King is startled by their attack but nevertheless she embraces their visit. Beware Masters of the Universe...Mom and Dad are coming for us one by one.