And You'll Love What You Lose...

Today, after I got out of my Religious Studies class, things were sweet! Even though I almost fell dead asleep in that class (like always), my professor wrapped things up early and I got to get home twenty minutes before I normally do. So I made a late lunch. (I'm at school from 12:30 to 3:15 so I don't get time for a REAL lunch. Did you get that joke V? It was that Desperate Housewives of NYC thing I was telling you about. Nevermind. The joke is lame now.)

I had finished preparing myself lunch - grilled cheese and alphabet soup, the meal of champions - when the A/C kicked on. It gets pretty cold in this apt so I went to my room to get a sweater and that's where IT happened.

My roomie Melissa's friend Cindy is over. Everything in my room looks normal. I smile at Melissa. Cindy says to me, "Hey, do you mind if I read your magazine?"

Nylon? Sure. Whatevs. Cosmo? Go ahead! I'll give it to you. Elle? Eh...I guess. Under the Radar? Where did you find that? But she isn't holding any of those.

As she's asking me this very simple, easy to answer question, I see she's holding my brand new copy of Missbehave.

FFUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK!!!!!

Not only does that mean she took it off my desk without even thinking to ask me, but she's just flipping through it nonchalantly like things are cool as a pool! I falter, try to tell her that magazine isn't an ordinary one...I can't put it into words, so all I say is:

"Oh...you're already holding it...Um, I guess, but be very careful with it. It only comes out four times a year and it's sort of special. And I had to go to the Promenade to get it."

She shrugs, says alright, and then Melissa asks what kind of magazine it is. I can't put that into words either. There's so much super mega ultra awesome-ness going on that I can't say it in a few succinct sentences. I mumble:

"It's like a modern women's magazine. These ladies in New York put it out four times a year." FAIL! The one time I could possibly convert a chick to the dark side/testfy! and I ruin it. So sheepishly, I put on my sweater and shuffle out into the living room so I can eat/watch some Bravo.

Cable is a godsend. Roommates are not.

Deuces,
Erika

We'll Be Dancing By The Fire, Fire, Fire

Well this morning was the best start for a day I could have asked for. Someone in an apt below me must have said "Hey, let's start a fire." Naturally everyone around him agreed. And by doing said suggestion, they set off all the fire alarms in every apartment and the hallways. Just imagine those fire drills you used to have back in middle and high school, the loud ones with no warning. Okay, now imagine waking up to one at 8:30 am.

Thanks guys!

I thought it was my alarm, so I turned that off, but the noise continued, so I thought "Oshit, let me check the kitchen." Nothing. I was the only one home. So I grabbed my key and walked out into the hallway where the noise was unbearable. Five minutes later, I'm standing outside with the other tenants, no shoes on, wearing just a t-shirt and leggings, hair unbrushed, face unwashed, teeth unbrushed...I had just a little more dignity than when I have to do my walk/drive of shame home.

The fire department arrives, assesses the sitatuation; we watch as the flooded water comes pouring out of the little gutters underneath the apartment. People are moaning because they have to get to work/class/breakfast/something. I'm moaning because I still had two more hours to sleep. So now I'm back, wide awake, forced to actually get ready to go to school.

So, yeah, thanks guys for giving me the best wakeup I've had...ever! I really apreesh it, really I do! I love the feeling of cold morning air when I'm wearing next to nothing. Oh! And I really like it when people try to have extended convos with me when I haven't brushed my teeth! I owe you guys one!

Deuces,
Erika

Where Do You Work? Oh, That's Right...You Don't...

So if you guys have been reading my Tumblr (or even if you haven't really), then you're semi to fully aware of my roommate situation. Silly me for thinking it would be a good idea to stay with three other girls in a two bedroom apartment. Luckily though, two of my roommates are usually gone for the day or gone for the night. Unluckily enough, my bitfchface roommate is the one who is here the most. Like, more than me. Yeah, I know. That is literally all the goddamn time. She's so seriously the roomie from Hell. She's noisy, obnoxious, inconsiderate, snores like a motherfucker, loud.as.fuck., and she has no idea what personal boundaries are. First she sat in the bedroom all day and watched my television (no, go ahead, we don't all have to pay for the electricity at the end of the month or anything) and then, ladies and gents, she fucking used my brush. Not my toothbrush, my fucking hairbrush. There it was when I came home, sitting on MY desk next to MY shit full of HER hair. How do I know? Because she has these ridiculous gold highlights and I just got my hair re-dyed black about two months ago. And she's completely obliv to the fact that we hate her and sometimes want to sleep.

Soooo...I'm currently in the market to move on up! In other words, get out of this hellhole and into a studio apt of my own. A personal, peaceful living space where my boyfriend can stay when he visits and my friends can stay when we party hardy too late. Where I can buy groceries and not have to share a fridge shelf or put my dishes in the sink and have someone else use them. Where no one else will watch my TV dammit! I'm entitled to these things, right?

And thus we reach the crux of my inconveniencing situation. I don't have a job right now. No job, no place for myself. Currently, my mom is helping me out since I thought it was a good idea to come to LA with just 600.00 to my name.

I don't even know why I'm writing this. I was going somewhere with it, but I'm lost. Wah, I need a job. Wah, I need money. Wah, I need help. Wah, I'm going to need someone to post bail because I'm going to kill this bitch I live with. Wah.

Deuces,
Erika

Moment Of Insanity

So I'm watching this show, Moment of Truth...I guess I'm a little late on it now since the show's been on for awhile (but I don't have cable yet in this apt, soooo)...but I just don't get it. I mean, I guess it's a good social commentary on just how ruthlessly greedy people can be nowadays. But it's just ridiculous. The questions are stupid:"Do you think your coworker looks ugly in that dress?" And not only that, but this quote/unquote audience? I think it might be comprised of tapes that go "OOoooOOOohhh" and "Ohhhhhh!" and applaud. There also might be a hint of a laugh track in there too; it's hard to tell.

Anyway, so what I'm really getting at is the contestants. They're retarded. They have too many secrets. And not even that; they have too many bad, personal secrets. See, I would never go on the show because my secrets would hurt my family, friends, etc too much if they knew about them. BUT. If I was one of those very bland people whose biggest "don't tell" was that they once picked a wedgie while they were in an unoccupied stairway in 8th grade, then I would totally sign up. Sure, it would make for bad TV, but at least I would make some serious bank.

And they say being boring doesn't pay. Wait, wait. No they don't.

Deuces,
Erika

Plz Don't Get Silly-er

Christ. I heard some shitty rap awhile back, but I was sort of hoping that would be the last of awful club songs.

Not so!

If I hear this anywhere...Club Crucial, Club Primetime, S.O., or even Club Crunk, my ass is out of there faster than you can say "Ladies are free before midnight."



Okay, now...as if this'll make me feel any better about the current rap/club game...has anyone been all up in the club, having a really good time, you know, just turning shit out, and then the DJ just threw on some song so awful you can't even stay on the dancefloor? Tell me what song it was!

That way I can laugh and listen out for it next time I'm out!

Deuces,
Erika

Retail In Review: H & M at Northpoint Mall

Does anyone who reads this blog even live in Atlanta? I know like 89.36372946293022% of Missbehave readers live in New Yawk, and 7.28193907282% of them rep Baltimore. That last 3.92018786273028483% live, um, in New Mexico, I guess.

Anyway, here in GA, we never had an H & M. We finally got one, in Northpoint Mall, in Alpharetta. I arrived very optimistic, and excited, thinking, "oh finally!"

OK. Offish, this H & M sucks ass. The aisles are super tiny, and clogged up with less hipsters, more mall skanks and preppy college kids. I couldn't even move. And then I waited in line for 15 minutes for a fucking changing room because there were only five of them. FIVE. CINCO. CINQ. (5). Everyone was in everyone's way, the selection was terrible, and the jewelry section practically didn't exist.

You know what I think? Nothing compares to the H & M at the Beverly Center. Man, I used to hit that place up and ALWAYS find something hot. I rarely waited for a dressing room and the people there were 72939362930 times cooler. I loved it.

Sigh...maybe the flagship store in Atlanta will redeem their steez. Le sigh.

Deuces,
Erika

How I Define Being A Black Woman

And other very important lessons from Sharolaid.

Shit, motherfucker, watch your ass.



Deuces,
Erika