Mixed Chick Adventures
Adventures in Couch Surfing: Week 7

Monday: Today was another one of those “you can sleep in and come to work at noon” kind of days.

Tuesday: I worked at student activities, and I began the ginormous task of tackling Alison’s sorority closet. After work, we had another dinner and a movie night at Richie’s. I was proud of myself for waiting until the last 10 minutes to ask about Officer Chesterfield, but I still regret it. Apparently he graduated from the Academy and is doing fine…which just makes me more depressed that he lost interest in me so quickly. Oh well. I feel badly now, but I am 100% positive I will find a new crush, or at least someone to fuck.

Wednesday: It was supposed to be a “short day” at Modlin, but of course, things never work out the way you expect. I didn’t leave until after 5:30, but I enjoyed spending 8 full hours with m boss Job, just the two of us. I embarrassed myself with not knowing what an Edison cable is, but I think he forgave me. It was really nice hearing stories from his time at the National, the concert venue where he used to work. Let’s just say that drugs are a hell of a drug.

Thursday: Fourth of July! I convinced my mom to take us to the pool in Williamsburg instead of going grocery shopping, and boy, was it a good decision! I actually had a great time with my family. We all took turns swimming with my sister Birdie, reading in the shade, and relaxing in the hot tub.

Weekend: this was a “me” weekend. There was plenty of lying around in sweat pants watching dozens of hours of television

Something awesome: Not having to sit through fireworks. I don’t know why the hell everyone loves them so much. I must have been a woodland creature in a past life because they scare the shit out of me.

Something not so awesome: This commuting shit. I love my car, and I certainly love the newfound freedom, but damn it would be nice not to have to drive 45 minutes every morning and evening (when I cant persuade a friend on campus to let me spend the night).

Something sexy: Getting emotionally intimate with a certain someone. I don’t care how hot a person is (ok, lies, I do), if they can’t connect with me emotionally, things will never work out in the long run. But I suppose it’s better to get with a hot emotionally dead person than an ugly emotionally dead person…

Adventures in Couch Surfing: Week 4

Week 4. Enjoyed a four day weekend. Recovered my air mattress from the dark depths of the living room closet, so I guess I’m a mattress surfer now.

Tuesday: helped students with their activities at the Office of Student Activities. Went home to Maura and watched horribly delicious ABC Family shows, then had a rendezvous in Booker with Africa. Missing Officer Chesterfield much less. Beginning to accept the fact that our fling is over and he’s no longer interested. Correlation? Haha.

Wednesday: Played with lights in Modlin, then enjoyed Maura’s non-dysfunctional apartment dinner before hanging out with Gem sober (boo, you whore!).

Thursday: Took down 99 lights and didn’t bitch about one. Had a surprisingly chill evening with my father watching basketball at his house. If he had ever bother to ask, he would have known already that I love basketball.

Friday: Fire Academy graduated its sexy firemen. Scottish bagpipe group played. Tempted to text VCU Guy, but he hasn’t initiated a single conversation since my visit. Also resisting the urge to hit up Angry Asshole. When you’re thirsty, every drink looks tasty…

Sexiest part: Rekindling my relationship with Africa. I’ve realized that he’s just not a planner, and the only way to hang out with him is to show up at his place. I spent the last month of school texting him, trying to hang out with him, only to get excuse after excuse of classes and homework and study groups. In my haste to get laid, I forgot that he’s just a freshman, and everything is still new and exciting and foreign. Especially because he’s lived in Africa his whole life, everything here is really foreign. I tried getting rid of him, but he always stops by the desk and asks me how I’m doing. So I reward his sweetness by showing up at his apartment. He is playing a videogame (of course), and asks me to come back at 10. We walk to Modlin, and he asks, “Did you enjoy your four years here?” The question, even though I’ve been asked it a dozen times by adults and family members, feels genuine on his lips. I take a few seconds to reflect, and say yes, feeding him crumbs of the meal of knowledge I’ve sent four years savoring. Inside, I convince him to play me a song, and he leads me to a secluded piano room. He plays a 10 minute masterpiece, and I’ve got no idea how he memorized it all. “I improvised that,” he tells me nonchalantly. I have an instant desire to strip off all my clothes, and I apologize for getting flustered. “What’s wrong with that? The door locks, doesn’t it?”He clicks off the lights, and we move into the bay window. The orange streetlamp and the lattice of the window created the most beautiful shadows I have ever seen. If only he could play the piano at the same time…

Perhaps I need to reevaluate the way I look at sex in my life. Perhaps, instead of demanding or expecting it, I should just appreciate when it happens. Maybe it’s best to think of it as a four leaf clover that I stumble upon, rather than a meal I ordered at a restaurant and am continually waiting for.

Highlight: driving home at the end of the week. Working all week makes me finally appreciate the comfort of being at home. That old saying is definitely true; you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone. And I plan on relishing every moment spent at home until I have to move to Blacksburg in August.

Lowlight: None. This week was pretty fucking fantastic J

Adventures in Couch Surfing: Week 3

Week 3 synopsis: FINALLY HAVE A CAR!!! Craig’s List: good for more than prostitution and money scams. Worked at Student Activities Tuesday. Begged Dizzy to let me stay with her before I knew I’d have a car, and I didn’t want to be a bitch and flake out on her. Enjoyed a chill evening watching Bend it like Beckham and absorbing the Indian culture. Spent Wednesday night hanging out with Bess, Rage, Fitch, his bf, and Doll eating Mexican and watching a movie that was way better than I expected. Didn’t even want to drink for fear of driving while intoxicated, (although I did have a sip of Doll’s giant margarita).  Worked at Modlin Wednesday and Thursday. Finally finished bench focusing the 100 new Source 4 lights. Don’t know if I’ve ever been this tired in my life. So happy to go home Thursday night. Spent Friday lounging around, then babysitting my cousin and enjoying cheap, mass-produced, buffet pizza. Had to work Saturday evening. Stuck in horrific bumper to bumper traffic. With no AC. In all black. Got to party in the fan with an eclectic group of friends: friends from sophomore year, a suitemate from junior year, and friends of friends with European beaus; Smushed 7 of us in a taxi. Went to two bar/clubs. Was super excited for the first annual bacon festival the next morning, but it was as hot and crowded as ten pounds of bacon shoved into a microwave for a few hours.

Highlight: FINALLY HAVING A CAR!!! My father found a great listing on Craig’s List, and we trekked the hour down to Surry County to get it. We split the cost 50-50, which makes me value it a lot more than if it was just handed to me free. A close second was having a mini-reunion of our friend group at Fitch’s adorable apartment after the Mexican restaurant. We watched “Love and Other Drugs,” which sounds like a shitty chick flick, but it was surprisingly enjoyable. Seeing Anne Hathaway naked definitely didn’t have anything to do with it. Cough cough.

Lowlight: Spending another evening with my father, having to listen to him ramble and lecture and make fun of people. Seriously, living alone has made this man so deprived of human interaction that he can talk for 4 hours straight. The worst part was having to look at his disgusting fridge, which was covered in sticky spills, crumbs, and dust. I was so appalled that I started cleaning it when he went to bed.

Sexiest moment of the week: Fooling around with Confessor in the creepy parking lot near the Business School.  Back during finals week, the Richmond Confession page had hosted a crush/beach week hookup day in which people could submit the names of people they like and a brief description of what they’d like to do with them. Many people got confessions such as, “Samantha, your flowing golden locks and glistening eyes illuminate my darkest days, and I would battle the fiercest demons to have the honor of holding your hand.” My romantic confessor wrote, “Amber, stop crying your eyes out and fuck me already,” (a reference to the final breakup with my ex). I commented “send pics and we’ll talk,” and he actually reached out to me during Beach Week. We met up at the totally legit hour of 2am, went back to his hotel room, and fooled around for quite some time. I almost felt bad for not allowing him to fuck me, but at the time I was still involved with Officer Chesterfield. Also, I’m pretty sure my vagina is just racist against black men. I’ve theorized that it’s due to having a half-ass black biological father and an intimidating black stepfather. Well, fast forward three weeks, and he shows up at my work, saying his goodbyes before he was to leave for his summer job. He sat at the desk with me for the last hour of my shift, filling out job paperwork, and he even had the balls to try to kiss me in the kitchen area. I wasn’t about to risk my job, so I told him to get out…and meet me in his car at 5. Not much happened, but again, I found it weird to be getting intimate with someone in daylight and completely sober. Oh college, what have you done to me…

Lesson: TBD

Adventures in Couch Surfing: Week 2

Rundown of Week 2: Spent Sunday with ED and his parents at VA Beach. Oogled dozens of attractive teenagers and felt like a mental pedophile. Spent Memorial Day at home enjoying a job with federal holidays. Worked at Modlin Tuesday-Thursday. Bench focused the 100 lights. Bench focus =  Hoist 12.5 pound unit on rack. Insert barrel into unit. Insert light bulb into unit. Plug in unit. Focus and center light beam until it doesn’t look like shit. Remove 12.5 unit. Stretch your throbbing limbs. Repeat. Got through 35 of them in 2 days by myself, then did 45 more in one day with a co-worker, Admiral Angel. My work name is Sergeant Sing-a-long. Holy fucking shit this job is exhausting. Spent Tuesday and Wednesday nights with Maura. Enjoyed swimming in the river (even though we almost drowned) and making dinner with her apartmentmates. Must be nice living with people who don’t hate you. Guess that’s how Dr. B, Sad Puerto Rican, and I must have been the first couple weeks.

Highlight of the week: being in an apartment where I’m wanted. Maura generously offered me a place to stay back in April, and this week she gave me plenty of pillows and blankets to sleep on AND swiped me into dhall. It’s fucking exciting. Her apartment back window offers a lovely view of nature, as I am currently watching a squirrel enjoy a nut. I’m so happy to have friends (female friends, cough cough) who take care of me instead of giving me false promises and the cold shoulder. I think my awesome female friends and shitty male friends are furthering my plunge into feminism.

Speaking of shitty male friends, Africa keeps texting me, wanting to hang out. But he doesn’t want me staying with him overnight. Bastard. You’d think it’d be the other way around. His apartment is literally next door, so I hope I run into him. I’m starting to realize that the assholes in my life are assholes out of ignorance rather than malice. Don’t know if that’s better or worse. Previous examples include Angry Asshole (“Oh, I think you’re becoming attached to me. I better break up with you via text message in the middle of another conversation), and Hockey Player (“No, we can’t fuck tonight because I have a hockey match, but I’m sure you’ll find me at Ring Dance holding the hand of an ugly bitch, who I will proceed to date for the rest of the semester, even though I explicitly told you I don’t date Richmond girls, and ignore all of your text messages from here on out). Africa, as a current example, was too busy playing videogames to hang out, not realizing that it’s common courtesy tell me this, instead of just ignoring me for two hours. Oh well. He’s just a freshman. I’ll live without.

Lowlight of the week: Missing Officer Chesterfield. I’m sleeping on the apartment sofa, just like I did the first night I spent with him. I wish he would just tell me he was busy or his phone died or he’s not interested in me anymore, so I would know. Urg. Hopefully I’ll hear from him soon, but I won’t hold my breath. What is it with guys just cutting off communication when they’re no longer interested**? Is it that difficult to respond to my texts and say a simple, “hey, I don’t think things are working out between us, so please stop texting me” or even a polite “be gone, bitch!” Granted, I have done this to a gentleman once in my life, when he overwhelmed me with his constant, atrocious grammar and spelling mistake ridden text messages. In my defense, this guy was previously my first boyfriend ever, he literally ran away from me when I spotted him in the high school hallway because he was no longer interested and let his sympathetic nervous system do the responding. Time and time again, men just leave me hanging. Gorgeous Black Guy did it. Hasty did it. Angry Asshole and VCU Guy didn’t do it exactly, but they still pissed me off.

**I suppose I associate this behavior with guys because I am an active pursuer of my romantic interests. I do an action, so they have the reaction. So they end up blowing me off (giggle) rather than the other way around, which I’m sure many guys experience. I guess it’s human tendency to avoid conflict with certainty, rather than to deal with the numerous, unpredictable consequences of trying to settle it. 

Lesson of the week: image

Adventures in Couch Surfing: Week 1

As a recent college graduate, I’ve made a boat load of decisions: what grad schools to apply to (East Coast vet schools), what programs to accept (The only one I got into), where I want to live (somewhere in Virginia), etc. This summer, I decided to stay in Richmond, my hometown and the location of my alma mater. I applied to a few post-grad jobs, but didn’t hear back from any. So I figured, why find a minimum wage job for all of three months? Why not keep both of the jobs I had during the school year and work over the summer? I mean, who else gets paid to keep video game consoles functional and use power tools? I cleared it with my bosses (all 5 of them), and started planning my schedule. There was only one problem: I didn’t have a car, and I couldn’t afford the $35 a day campus housing. 

So…I decided to become a professional couch surfer. I figured, “hey, there’s gotta be at least a dozen kids staying on and around campus that don’t hate me completely. I’ll just alternate living with them for the next 10 weeks.” It took a little more begging and a lot more back and forth texting than I enjoy, but somehow I managed to get everything worked out…for the first week. Things got pretty comical, and I’ve decided to keep a blog/diary/journal thing. Names have been changed to protect the (less than) innocent.

Week 1. The vitals: Worked 9-5 on Monday at Student Activities. Felt so nice to be back. Hadn’t worked at the desk since the last week of classes in April. Also saw lots of friends and acquaintances, and most of them had time to stop and chat with me. VCU guy was picked me up and took me back to his place. First night of couch surfing involved a bed. Worked Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday at Modlin. Bosses take the job even less seriously than during the school year. Color coded the barrels of 100 Source Four lights. (You ever paint a 1inch by 3 inch rectangle with a 4 inch brush?) Spent Tuesday night with BioDad. Remembered why I hate him. Spent Wednesday and Thursday nights with Bess and Rage. First real nights of couch surfing. Very chill evenings of reddit, craig’s list, and trashy movies. Worked a half day Friday at Student Activities. Went shopping with my mom Friday afternoon, then went home.

The sexiest part of my week: Getting down with VCU Guy. There was the slight wisp of awkwardness between us, seeing as I hadn’t seen him after falling for him back in September. I had tried to keep friendly with him through October and November after his rejection. But when he promised to come see my leading role in the department’s fall show, and then went to see a children’s movie instead, I ignored him for three solid month (although it’s not very difficult to ignore someone who barely ever tries to talk to you). My facebook stalking tendencies got the best of me in April, though, and he called me out on it, so we ended up talking again. After graduation, I mentioned my couch surfing plan, and he generously offered to pick me up from work. “I’m pretty sure if I in earnest proposed us having sex again, you’d kill me.” He stated late one night. I spent about 17 seconds crafting the delicate response of “Eh, I’d be down.”

Once we got back to his place, he spent less than five minutes making small talk before initiating things. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy take off his clothes in less than 8 seconds, but I’m just glad he lasted longer than that. It was weird going at it in the daylight and without even a hint of alcohol, but it was enjoyable. So enjoyable that we went out to dinner, came back, and went for round two. I wasn’t crazy about the way he sat on his computer for hours afterward (and even considered staying up on the internet all night rather than cuddle with my adorable self), and how he didn’t even kiss me goodbye the next morning (again, I’m pretty fucking adorable), but a dick is a dick. I’m pretty sure the fact that I think all guys—tall, short, chubby, built, white, Hispanic— are basically the same when it comes down to “it” makes me not only a slut, but a misandrist slut…but at least I’m getting a decent sample size to make valid scientific studies. Gotta put that BS in biology to use now that I’m a college grad!

The highlight of the week: spending time with Bess and Rage. “That was the most beautiful differentiation between dick and ass” I drunkenly slurred. We were watching Team America, and the main character had given a two minute speech differentiating between assholes, who spew their shit on everyone, and dicks, who just fuck everything up. The decision to watch this particular movie had taken nearly 20 minutes. Between the three of us, there was not much that the bum couple hadn’t watched in their two weeks of funemployment and that I actively wanted to watch. Seeing as I enjoy South Park, I enjoyed the movie thoroughly. I also enjoyed my $4 Food Lion wine. And there is nothing classier than sipping wine from a plastic Arby’s cup through a straw and watching marionette puppets have sex and blow things up. 

It was beautiful just hanging out with a close friend and another friend, who happened to be her boyfriend. It’s tricky hanging out with couples because if they’re too lovey dovey, it can be awkward. And if they’re passive aggressively fighting, it’s hella awkward. It’s usually best with couples like Bess and Rage, who have been together for years. The two evenings I spent with them were the most fun I had had in a while, (not including beach week, which, let’s face it, was a 168 hour marathon of beer, waves, tacos, hot tubs and perspiration). In their tiny little one room shoebox, I truly felt at home.

The lowlight of my week: sitting alone in BioDad’s living room for four hours. For the first hour and a half, yapped on the phone, and for the next two and a half hours, he was glued to the basketball game playing on his 84” flat screen. For a man who seems convinced he’s such a good father, he sure didn’t seem like he wanted to spent any time with me. I think those three years I didn’t see him should have been a hint, but eh, guess I’m a slow learner.

Lesson of the week? image


when i realize i have to graduate soon
Days 34-36: Last days in Spain

On Tuesday morning, at 5:45am, my alarm went off. Stumbling, i felt my way to the light switch, and got ready to leave. At 6:30, we said adios to our host mother and made our way through the pre-dawn darkness into the waiting taxi cab. It was so sad leaving my new family and life in Europe, and I did shed a few tears in the elevator. But I had known all along that this adventure would be as short as it was sweet, and all good things must come to an end.

At 6:45, we arrived at the hotel where few of our classmates were waiting. By 7:00, the bus had arrived, and we began the delicate game of gently cramming all of our earthly possessions into the tiny space under the bus, a game also known as Jam Pack Jam. Trust me, the game’s a lot more fun when the only things at stake are some plastic toys and your pride, not when you’re sleep deprived and it’s 7am and you’re leaving your new favorite country ever. Somehow, we made everything fit and took our seats on the bus….and waited. And waited. Of course, everyone except three individuals had made it on time. And we were stuck waiting for them. And of course, they had ran out of minutes on their phones, so calling them was impossible. 30 minutes later, they finally arrived, and we were able to head out to Toledo.

I slept the entire 6 hour ride. It was fairly smooth, that is, until we actually entered Toledo. The streets are so tiny that the bus had to run over every curb, an experience that probably resembles running over small school children again and again.

Once we had unloaded and hiked up the hill to our hotel (of course the massive charter bus couldn’t drive up the tiny little road), we had an hour to relax and unpack before walking down the street to a church that doubled as a museum for some world famous painting by El Greco. It was a beautiful scene depicting a saint’s death and his ascension into heaven. We sat for a few minutes contemplating the beauty of the church. That’s when Suzy pointed to a poster on the wall…an anti-abortion poster. Anti-choice wingnuts consider microscopic cell bundles sacred enough to protect at all costs, but a beautiful, historic cathedral is not sacred in the least and merely a place to put political literature.

After the painting, we had the afternoon to ourselves. We explored a little bit, visiting souvenir shops and playing with swords and buying jewelry, and then we stopped for some ice cream. 

That evening, we ate in the fanciest dining room I’ve ever seen. For our appetizer, we had tortilla de patatas, which brought back memories of all the delicious ones Teresa had made us. Then we had fresh salad, followed by the biggest, fluffiest, most delicious salmon I have ever eaten in my entire life. It was all so scrumptous, I can’t believe I forgot my camera to document the deliciousness.

That night, I had wanted to have a relaxing girl’s night with some wine and a movie, but everyone was tired, and the internet was too slow to stream anything. So I settled for drinking the rest of my champagne at midnight and watching Anatomia de Grey with Pippa in our room.

Wednesday, we packed up and headed on a tour of the cathedral. Yes, a cathedral is exactly how every girl wants to spend her 21st birthday. But I relished the fact that it was the last cathedral I’d ever have to tour for the rest of my summer, and of my life if I could help it, and that was enough of a gift. After the tour, we loaded the bus, leaving tiny, cultural Toledo for Madrid, which is quite possibly the biggest, loudest city I’ve ever been in…besides NYC of course. There were tourists and natives and business men and protesters and beggars and more street performers than I’ve ever seen.

Wednesday afternoon, we had our final Wednesday special at 100 Montaditos. I am dearly going to miss the greatest Spanish fast food restaurant in existence. Where else can you get a sandwich, french fries, and a pint of Tinto for 3 Euro? I guess the tinto counts as my first drink as a 21 year old. After, we made our way to the Palacio Real, the massive, historic, 2800 room royal mansion. The heat was brutal, so we cooled off by jumping in a fountain. While most in our group were eager to take the tour, Erica, Mark, and I didn’t want to spend 5 euro on yet another tour. So we settled for taking pics of the outside and then making our way back to the hotel. I took a lovely siesta before heading out right before dinner to take pics and buy a few souvenirs. We ran into a musical protest, and we stayed and talked to a few of them before they formed a circle and played a few songs.

For dinner, we ate at a restaurant right beside the hotel. We had fresh salads, steak, french fries, and yet another delicious cheesecake. I assume they were trying to get of us back in the swing of american food. It was a lovely meal, and it was nice unwinding from a hectic four weeks of classes and four weekends of trips to just relax with the group. 

That night, I refused to spend my 21st birthday doing nothing. And even though they made us go on a walking tour of some of the historic (boring) parts of the city and we didn’t get back till midnight, Erica, Laura, and I got all dressed up and headed to the discoteca. We were going to go to one a few kilometers down the street, but we didn’t feel like waiting and paying for the metro, so we just walked to a much closer one. It was classy buy empty, so we went to another place with free beer and sangria. It was less empty, but the music was way better, and the guys from our group were there. We realized that the booze was only free before 1:30am, and as it was 12:55am, I said:

We sat in a booth and drank and talked for a while before hitting the dance floor. I of course broke out several of my Just Dance 3 moves. By 2:00am, the guys were ready to roll out to Joy. I chugged my last drink, and we headed out. Unfortunately, while girls were free, it cost $12 for guys to get in, and they didn’t wanna spend the money. So we ventured in without them. It’s amazing how things can change in an hour. The club was packed! The music was blasting! And we found other girls from our group and our old Texas Tech friends: Handy Manny and Monty Python! It was so nice getting to have one last celebration with them. And we danced on tables. It was Laura’s idea, I swear! I was told later that I had a full conversation with a guy in a spongebob shirt, but honestly I have no recollection of this event. We danced and met people until about 3, when we decided it was bedtime (since we had to leave for the museum at 930).

Thursday morning, I had the worst hangover of my life. It was brutal. Free sangria does not a hangover-free morning make. Somehow, I dragged myself the 20 minutes down the street to the Prado museum. I made it about halfway through the visit before needing to pray to the porcelain goddess, but that’s better than getting kicked out for puking on priceless paintings. My praying was not overlooked: we were granted the post-birthday blessing of getting an hour break before tackling the Reina Sophia Museum of Modern Art. After napping in the cafe and drinking plenty of water, I felt a lot better. The second museum was so much easier to handle, most likely because Picasso and Dali are my favorite modern artists, and Fernando was told to abbreviate his lengthy explanations about every exhibit.

After the museum, we went to BK and had the most (surprisingly) delicious chicken sandwich plus fries and a drink for only $3.30. Gotta love coupons. We made our way back to the hotel, and I took the greatest hangover nap ever.

After my siesta, we made a trip to a supermarket to pick up a bottle of wine to bring home. I almost bought one called Sangre del Toro, but it sounded a bit too bitter for my taste. I settled on a pink, rosy wine with an old white dude on it. White dudes know what’s up. We made our way back to the hotel, right as a massive protest was starting. This time it was the UGT, the labor unions, and the CCOO, the coal miners.

At our last dinner, Carlos made a toast, and he called us the biggest and best group he’s ever taken to Spain. It was a delicious dinner of salad, potato wedges, ribs, and the best rice pudding I’ve ever tasted. It was bittersweet, sharing one final meal with my friends, but I knew the upcoming school year would have plenty of reunions and new memories.

Thursday night, we went back to Palace. We went at 12:30, and it was pretty empty, but it was oddly relaxing just getting lost in the music and only ONE glass of sangria. 10 of the junior and senior girls from the trip joined us around 1, and we stayed and danced with them for about an hour. Around 2, Erica went to see if we could re-enter if we left, and she never came back. Alison and Laura were worried, but I figured Erica was fine, and we left. On the way back, we found her. She had gotten side-tracked talking to people, and she told us the reason all the clubs were so dead is that all the international students left that day. Talk about perfect timing for my birthday. We linked arms and went back to the hotel, where I got a full 3 hours of sleep before catching our taxi at 6:45am…

Possibly the cutest gif i’ve ever seen in my life

mmmm….bigotry looks tasty!