I think I'm being Punished

As I sit here on Dec. 28th, 2009, I can't help but reflect on the past year. Not to be dramatic (because I never am), but I think it's safe to say that the past 2 years have been the worst of my life. Yes, I know I'm healthy, and have a job, and friends, and a great family (all things I am very, very thankful for) But so many unfortunate things happen to me on a weekly basis.... I dont even know where to begin. .

I guess I should start by explaining that my life wasn't always like this. In High School everything was great. I mean, we moved a TON so I was always the "new girl", but, since I like being the center of attention, that wasn't really a problem. College was pretty good up until the last semester. And by pretty good i mean AWESOME. Like, legit the best time of my life to date.

It all started when I moved to Dallas, really. So I'm gonna go ahead and blame the city. I don't care if that's stupid. I moved out here with a friend who we'll call Sally, right after graduation. I had never really been here but I was sick of San Antonio and ready for a change, so we loaded up the U-Haul and headed North on 35. Well... it was a rough start. It took me a while to find a job, so for the first month or so you could find me sitting on my couch drinking diet coke and watching Scrubs reruns for the majority of the day. Finally I found one.. it was GOD-AWFUL. My boss made me run all of his personal errands, CUT his meat, and go buy ice at the gas station. And when he demanded that I crush the ice myself before bringing him a cup of it... that was when I quit. I wasn't paid enough for that shit.

Then suddenly my roommate, Sally, stopped coming home and/or answering my calls. She had apparently decided that I was a "bad person" and that she no longer wanted to be friends. Rather than confront me about whatever upset her, she stopped coming home and now she lives with her boyfriend. Good riddance.

Then came the time period that I like to refer to as "The Worst Week of My Life". Again, it sounds dramatic, but you have to hear this story to believe it.

It was, I believe, the week of April 23rd, 2009. I had just been to visit my friend in Memphis and had a GREAT weekend. We went to the lake, went out on Beale Street and generally just had a good ole drunken time.

Incident 1: The Ticket - While cruising down I-30 jamming out to what I can only imagine was Daughtry (because i LOVE Daughtry)... i was going a mere 77 mph when I saw flashing lights out of my rearview. Obviously I couldn't hear sirens at this point because my music was blaring, but I assumed he was going affter the dude in front of me, because after all, I was only going 77 and the speek limit was 70. It was even on cruise! Also.. correct me if I'm wrong, but someone once told me that it was legally acceptable to go 10% over the speed limit... as in, if it's 70, you can go 77 but not 78, or if it's 80, you can go 88 but not 89... and so on. Hence why my cruise control was set to 77. Well.. apparently that is not the case because the cop was in fact after me. So.. I pull over, and our conversation went something like this

Cop: Ma'am, do you know how fast you were going?
Me: about 75. Was I speeding? I thought the speed limit was 70.
Cop: Nope. The speed limit is 65 at night. Here you go. (hands me a $150 ticket) Me: (eyes blink in bewilderment)

WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Who knew that the "night" speed limits were in fact LEGAL speed limits and not just "suggested speeds". Not this girl. And thus... my week from HELL had just begun.

Incident 2: The Bird - So... after receiving the ticket, I returned home to Dallas ready to shake it off and move on. I had a date with this guy that i was SUPER interested in that week.. and then my new roommate who i LOVE was moving in on Friday. I was excited about life, to say the least. So.. wake up, go to work... the ush. Work goes by slowly... as usual. Then I head home and get ready to go hang out in west village with the aforementioned dude i was kind of dating at the time. Well... as I turn the key and enter my kitchen, guess what is lying on the ground for me? A little greeting as if to say, "welcome home, my lovely lady".
A DEAD BIRD.

A fucking dead bird. Just chillaxing on my kitchen floor. Not only that... this wasn't just any dead bird, as I came to find out. The bird was literally decapitated and its tiny, beaked head was laying next to it. "She must have a cat" you're probably thinking. Nope. I hate cats. "Surely you live in a house and the door was open". Negatory. I live on the THIRD (middle) floor of an apartment complex, and we have indoor halls. There is no viable explanation for the predicament I was in.

I dont know if any of you have found a dead bird in your apartment, but let me just say. It is semi-traumatizing. i had NO damn clue how/why it was there. Was some terrorist trying to scare and threaten me? Who knows.

Incident 3: The Balding - As if a speeding ticket and a dead bird weren't enough., God decided to throw another curveball or two my way. Is this bad Karma? I'm not quite sure what I did to deserve this, but it must have been bad. I mean, I could end this story right now and you would still probably be like... "man, sucks to be her". But alas, my story is only halfway done. On Tuesday morning, I wake up and begin my usual routine. Work out, shower, makeup, hair, work. But something this morning did not go as usual.

I'll preface this by explaining that back in February, in attempt to save a few dollars, I took a chance and went to Regis for a "trim and lowlights". Well, apparently Paulo didn't speak english as well as he tried to seem like, because I went in with LONG, blonde hair, and came out with a short, brown bob. This wouldn't have been a big deal because I change my hair color about as often as I change underwear, and I've had short brown hair before... but I was headed to chicago later that week to visit my kind-of boyfriend at the time for Valentine's day, so this hair wasn't going to fly. After crying to the manager of the salon, she gave me highlights which looked great. And then I followed a friend's advice and got clip in hair extensions, which I now wore every day.

So... At this point I'd been wearing these extensions on the daily for about 3-4 months. After my shower, I begin to dry my hair and then go to put in my hair extensions for work, as I did every day. Only.... I couldn't seem to find any hair to attach it to. A moment of sheer panic overtook me as I grabbed a nearby hand-mirror and took a look at the back of my head. The extensions had left a BALD SPOT on both sides of the back of my head the size of a LEMON. I cried for days and days. Thank God the hair is growing back (it's about 3 inches now and curly, which is weird). After a lot of research I found that metal clip-in extensions can actually cause a condition called "tension alopecia" where the tension from the clips actually leaves you permanently bald.

Incident 4: The Date - Ok, so we've covered Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. One would THINK that I'd be done with my stint of bad luck since after all, they say bad things happen in 3s. Well, apparently in my case, they happen in even numbers, and in this particular example, they happen in 4s. So... Wednesday comes. I had been excited about this date all week because I really liked the guy and we had been on about 3 dates before. So.. I go home, risk the baldness and put in my extensions as usual. This guy thought I had long hair, I didn't want to let him down. So.. we go to dinner, have some drinks (and by some i mean several). We split a bottle of wine and also had vodka tonics while we waited. THEN we go on to another bar and grab a few more drinks. THEN we go to meet up with a bunch of people because my friend's band was playing and we were going to watch it. Shots were taken, more drinks were consumed.

Needless to say, we/i was HAMMERED at this point. No worries that it's a fucking WEDNESDAY night and I have to be at work at 8:30 the next day. So...... this is where I black out. But from the bits and pieces I have gathered from the other witnesses... we were making out in the back corner of the bar at one point. Then we apparently decided it was time to leave. He offers to give me a piggy-back ride on our 2-3 block walk home. God knows I'm not one to turn down a piggy-bag ride, so I oblige. The next thing I know I'm on the floor, with a severely busted chin, needing stitches. I hate needles, so I didn't get stitches. The dude ends up calling my roommate to come help and fortunately one of my friends is an aspiring doctor and had the supplies necessary to butterfly up my face.

WHO DOES THIS EVER HAPPEN TO!?!?!?! ON A FUCKING DATE?!?! I'm a mess. Shockingly this wasn't our last date. We actually ended up dating for about another month or so.

I woke up the next morning and didn't remember a damn thing. I went to work with a still bleeding chin and bandages taped to them. (because God knows I don't waste a sick day on being ACTUALLY sick) To this day I have a terrible scar and will probably for the rest of my life. It's ok though. I like to think of it as a reminder to stop being so drunk and ridiculous.

ANNNNNNNNNNNNNYWAY. So there it is. The Worst Week of My Life. So far this week, I have somehow managed to rack up about $160 in fees from using the wrong debit account to pay a CC bill, and my car battery has died twice. It's Monday. Stay tuned.

Hopefully reflecting on these moments/weeks of absolute stupidity has made you all a little more appreciative of your own lives. And may you all learn from my unfortunate mistakes. 2010 is going to be a kick-ass year. I have a good feeling. Things will improve.