Come and Knock on my Door

I have made the executive decision that because I hate my job with a passion and hate the town in which I live even more, that I am going to move to DC at the end of July. Tentatively, that leaves me 110 work days (or 880 hours if we want to be more exact) left in my future, accounting for holidays and planned leave of course -- I obviously can't tell you when I will be "sick" in the future to factor that in. None the less, I have been able to dedicate a significant portion of my spare time (read 75% of the time I am at work) to searching for jobs and more importantly a place to live once I make the big move.

Upon deciding about the move - yes, we can thank my boss for the DC trip described a few weeks ago, and the debauchery that occurs upon each visit for this decision-- I have already arranged for a roommate come July. We will call said future roommate Jacob, and he has warned me that he plans to read my blog on the regular so I should not bitch about him unless I want him to know. Obviously, he hasn't read much of my blog, since the primary content is a bitch fest. However, after his visit this weekend, I am positive that if anyone should bitch about the other it is him bitching about me.

Jacob decided to come down this weekend to visit me, among a number of other friends, and decided to make his accommodations at the Hotel de la Jane aka my super cold apartment. And oh what hell I put him through - thank god he is a trooper.

I guess you could say it all started on Saturday morning, when I decided that I would cook breakfast - nothing elaborate, just some scrambled eggs. Apparently, I wasn't too focused on the task and I managed to get some egg shells in the meal - oops! I really am a good cook, but I definitely came across as just the opposite of that.

So, after trying to cut my future roommates throat with our breakfast, I decided to step up my game that night when we went out. The first brilliant idea that I had was to get ridiculously drunk. Not just your average drunk, but more like let's drink a half pitcher of margaritas by yourself drunk. From there we went to a bar that might as well have been in the middle of Detroit because I felt like a gang was about to kill us, and Jacob was actually threatened. Feeling a bit out of place, and slightly fearing for our lives, we headed to the bar next door, which just so happened to be the gay bar in town. Being the completely straight trooper that he is, Jacob agreed to take on another strange activity and we made it in just in time for the drag show. We remained at this bar for the rest of the night, where we were quite entertained, or at least I was. Jacob managed to get his ass grabbed by several gentlemen and drag queens and get harassed by a super drunk dude who continued to try to say that because Jacob is Asian, he automatically was Chinese and had a gun -- neither of which were correct. The night's adventure ended with standing outside in the empty streets waiting for a cab in 26 degree weather for 45 minutes, only ending in us hiking back to my car and Jacob having to drive my drunk ass home. Not to worry though, when we got back to my place, I made him massage my head, because of course, I needed to be spoiled in some way - as if being a drunken idiot wasn't enough.

We both agreed that the weekend was a good one, even if I did end up putting Jacob's life (and love life) at risk a half dozen times and his team lost the Superbowl. Who knows why he is still interested in living with me, but one thing is for certain - we have many fun adventures ahead of us!