The bottom of the barrel.

When I thought the weekend would only get better...after a long, arduous, stress-filled week (then again, when is it not?)...shit gets real. Like really bad.

Friday - do the Haunted House thinger with a majority of the team (great turnout btw). Got scared by zombies, clowns, and serial killers (everyone, including myself needs a good scared scream once in a while). Got woken up by drunken baffoons running through my house. Eavesdropped on said baffoons before going back to sleep (which wasn't until they left).

Saturday - woke up for an early morning practice with the whole team. Saturdays are the only times when the entire team can practice at the same time. We also were going to clean up the island as our community service project, a ritual we do every year. It sucks but giving back to the community is rather nice and should make people feel good about themselves...until people decide to break into people's cars and steal shit. Yeah. Steal. Like take from you without you knowing. See ya later, wallet!

What sucks is that we didn't realize this happened until we were done giving back to the community (Gee, thanks soooo much. I clean up the island, I picked up crack vials, dirty condoms, cans of beer, and cigarette butts to come back to cars that were broken into. Nice). This is how it went downnnn...

We were on the water by 7:20am at the latest. We didn't get off the water until around 10am. We had a team breakfast, shared some laughs, then proceeded to clean up the island. We did that for about an hour. We were getting ready to leave and my friend Tor notices something about her boyf's car that she drove to practice that morning. I thought maybe there was bird shit on there and the bird took a huge dump. But then I noticed her passenger side window was open. I got confused then came over and saw what she saw. No window. It was actually rolled up and put in the back of the car. Her purse missing. What. The. Fuck.

She notices one of our coach's cars too. The passenger side window wasn't there either. Pieces of glass everywhere. And her purse was gone as well. Fuck. The team comes over and sees the mess. Another teammate and I see a guy who was getting his boat and putting it onto some sort of trailer latched to his truck. We figured we could go ask him if he saw anything because clearly this shit happened when none of us were there. He said he didn't see anything and what not. We head back over and some people are surrounding my biffle nugget's car. I assume they were checking her car as well. But none of the windows were bashed in. They were looking in her car. Our friend who we pick up for practice looks in the backseat and her shit is gone. I go over to the passenger side and my friend is looking at the lock that is pried into underneath. My drawstring bag isn't there. Wow.

Anxiety, frustration, and this weird feeling of overwhelmedness comes over me. My heart kinda stops but I really didn't know what to think at this point. My shit was gone. Along with three other people's things. My phone (which I only had for a month and 3 days, along with the memory card that held soo many saved pictures and videos), my wallet (with my driver's license, school ID, credit card, debit card, and twenty six dollars in cash), and my keys (house keys, car key, pepper spray, and really spiffy Hello Kitty keychain and my kangaroo bottle opener). Other items of little importance included a mix cd I made for my apprentice boober buggy (still, a legitimate nickname is pending...but I was thinking about Boober Toes...she said no) and this new chapstick I bought*.
*both items come with a funny story: the mix cd I made was for said friend but the night before when we were going to the haunted house, I was listening to it in Noner's car. He asked if he could keep it until the  morning and I said no because I was gonna give it to the boober. Ironically, Noner's took the boober to practice Saturday morning and she knew I was in his car the night before and asked him if her mix cd was in here. Boom roasted. I suck. The chapstick: my biffle nugget bought the same kind before and I kept using it like a child so I finally bought my own. I only had that thing for like a week. Damn.

I called my parents with my friend's phone and told them what happend. They called my banks to freeze my accounts and reported my phone stolen. My other friends who had shit stolen called their banks and checked for fraudulent activity. Both of their cards were charged for four hundred plus dollhairs at the LIRR in Jamaica, Queens at around 8:30am. Wow, the fuckers moved fast. I found out today my debit card was charged for the nearly the same amount. Neat?

A cop came for us to fill out police reports or whatever. He told us that these incidences happened before in the same area as well as in other parks/public places...before the boober asked him if he's ever used his tazer. She got to know him rather well and the while being a supportive tit waiting around with us.

All I wanted to do was cry. My shit was taken. I thought back on things I did recently and wondered if I did anything remotely worth some bad karma. Who knows. I still don't know. I didn't cry until I got to Verizon with Tor, we drove in the car, air whipping my hair back considering there was no window to roll up since it was bashed in. I was becoming extremely overwhelmed with the fact that my shit was taken and I don't have anything to my name aside from my iPod (that I thanked Jesus I didn't put in my bag that morning. I usually bring my iPod with me wherever I go. Losing Kramer would've been the end of me). And this was pretty much the icing on the cake after my hard drive conked out weeks ago. Mind you, I'm using my roommate's other laptop. I am so greatful for her generosity and help. Love ya, Gi.

I got home from Verizon, cried a bit to Gi (while in my Hello Kitty bathrobe wrap-around thinger), showered, took a sleepy time pill with a LARGE glass of wine. I teared up during an episode of True Life: I'm Ending My Marriage before I napped for four hours in my deep depressed state. I woke up to scratching on my door from the biffle nug. I told her to come in as I still lay on my death bed. She asked me if I wanted to grab dinner with her, Frump, and Noners and that she wanted to buy me dinner. I didn't have to pay her back. She didn't want me to spend the rest of my night in such a sad and upset mood.

My guard fell down as per usual and she saw me cry. I told how frustrated I was and that this happening was just adding to the domino-effect senior year I was having. I can't even begin to describe how this semester has been panning out so far. Some highs but along with those came some awfully lowly lows. Woof times a million.

She put me in good spirits and persuaded me to resurrect from the dead. I got ready, drinking what was left in my wine glass. We got some grub, which I was mostly definitely needed considering I replaced lunch with a pain killer and two glasses of some yummy white. Ehh, not good. We had to stop at Target to get her boyf a quick costume. I started to feel hungover. In Target. At 8 at night. Pathetic. I didn't even go out yet nor did I have a costume. We came home, and Gi had some Girl Scout vests...hence, my Halloween costume was born(ed). I would be a drunk Girl Scout, my flask of vodka included. My goal was to earn my Drinking Badge that night and I must say that I did.

The rest of the night got my mind off of all the shit that happened hours earlier. I know they say everything happens for a reason but does that mean things get stolen for a reason too? Who knows. The Halloween party we went to was fun, but crowded. Packed to the brim with people, most of whom I didn't know. I was with good company and saw many of those friends who I haven't seen in a long time, let alone partied with. There were some great costumes as well. Hours go by and we trek to my friend Michelle's apartment, fail at teaching people to play Boom!, and frequent the McDoodle's yet again. I got shit on for my Delawarian accent (haome, phaone, & begal) as well. Great night overall with some really funny peeps. I even ended up going home with three guys at 3:30 in the morning. But hey now, let's not jump the gun and assume I made a sex tape. They crashed at my place after drinking heaps.

And I must say it was great to come back from my run this morning to see Tor's boyf in his boxers walking from my kitchen with my leopard-print snuggie on in full force. Greatness.