Engaged Before My First Date?!

SNARP:

1. Water Balloon
2. Dye
3. Blood
4. Ghost
5. Blackout
6. Bottles
7. Doorknob
8. Salt
9. Glue (bottle, counter)
10. Bubbles (rainbow)

Okay, let me clarify. This is my current list of attacks for A.J. for invading my personal space and making comments. “SKNARP” is “PRANKS” spelt backwards, but I took out the “K” to make “SNARP” because it’s just so much cuter and easier to pronounce!

SO- Water Balloon is simply jumping out of nowhere randomly and attacking him with them.

Dye is to put washable hair dye in his shampoo.

Blood would be to get either animal blood or something like it, and either pretend to drink it, or pretend to cut myself.

Ghost is to scream ghost when he’s sleeping, to wake him up and freak him out. And, of course, hide a camera in the room to keep the fuzzy memories.

Blackout would be to kill the electricity out of nowhere….maybe when he’s in the shower.

Bottles, well, that’s to put my soap, shampoo, and conditioner into his. His have a very masculine smell, and of course, mine are the opposite. Mine also happen to be just as strong…not to mention he uses a lot. I can tell from the way his hair smells.

Doorknob is one of my FAVORITES! Take the doorknob out, and turn it facing backwards and put it back in. Then, leave the door wide open and locked so that he locks himself in without knowing it!

Salt is to put salt on his toothbrush…hehehe.

Glue has two parts- either I can glue the caps of his soap and shampoo bottles down and seal them, or I can glue them to the counter. But if I glue them to the counter, he might still be able to rip it off more easily whereas he might end up busting open the bottle with the first option… Rainbow Bubbles are created by the flushing toilet when food coloring is placed into the area where the flushing controls are located!

Okay, I found a few online but I made up the rest!!! And he deserved it too, for what happened this morning…

I woke up to my alarm, muffled beneath clothing and in my purse. I blinked sleepily, but still got a good 15 hours of sleep. I went to bed early, remember? I was then aware of an arm around my stomach JUST BELOW MY CHEST AND TOUCHING THE BOTTOM OF IT while I wore NO BRA. Another arm was on the LOWEST part of my waist and ALMOST TOUCHING MY, well, you get the point. WTH?!

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not a prude but I just met this dude yesterday and now he's all over me! People need to learn the concept of personal space!

I couldn’t kick him because of my position, so I tried pushing him off- not a good idea, since I’m dead tired when I wake up. So I squirmed, wiggling around until with one solid push of my feet on his knees, I went flying out of his arms. Straight onto the carpet with a BANG! Needless to say, he woke up and laughed his damn head off. I got up with a headache and my clothes from the previous day. GROSS! The jeans and shirt stank just like the airport, my hair was thrown back into a messy bun that was now almost completely undone, but holding the end of my hair together so that it looked like complete shit, and I HATE sleeping in a bra. Not to mention my paper-thin tee was wrinkled beyond belief!

So I went downstairs to the kitchen- there was a note from Carla saying that we’d be alone for the next 3 days to “bond” and that if she found out we weren’t together for any reason at all from her “sources”, we’d be locked in a room together for an entire week. She even had a picture of the room there, and it had no windows. I hate rooms like that. Crazy woman.

So I was even more annoyed. The only good thing that I discovered was that my basic foods were well-stocked into the kitchen. There were packages of enchilada and mini chicken tortillas in the freezer with ice cream, chocolate-chip waffles; the fridge had everything to make sandwiches, eggs, peanut butter, and so much more. But I settled to pop a couple slices of garlic bread into the mini-oven and went upstairs to check my email and make my SNARP List.

Of course, a conceited little boy was hogging the bathroom. So I typed it, checked my Myspace and Facebook, things like that. I pawed through my previously neatly folded clothes, having forgotten where I stuck what. Hey, I didn’t have these drawers before! I laid out a pair of lacy, semi-transparent zebra underwear and a double-layered black halter; I seriously hated wearing bras overnight, and the halter still covered everything. I threw a pair of black “skinny” jeans onto the pile as well. They were technically skinny jeans, but they didn’t choke my poor ankles and were long enough to drag on the floor so you couldn’t really tell anyway. “HURRY UP!” I shouted impatiently, hating the taste in my mouth from not being able to brush my teeth since all of my things were in the stupid bathroom. I received a big “NO!” in reply, so I irritatedly yanked a bobby pin out of my hair, bent it open, and bit off the round end, spitting it into the trash.

I may not be able to throw things in it coordinated-ly, but I can spit gum (and anything else in my mouth) straight in. I picked at the lock, having read an article about how to do it. Eventually, I clicked it and walked into the huge-ass bathroom. Honestly, it had a bathtub with jets, a big shower that could fit multiple people *coughs*, two big sinks, a huge counter, a beautiful picture of the ocean, cabinets and such containing cleaning supplies and CANDLES, and mirrors that could flip out and reflect each other. They were the best kind, because I can see every angle of my hair that way!

I grabbed my toothbrush, squeezed a small amount of Crest Whitening toothpaste onto it, then started brushing. I saw A.J.’s reflection in the mirror only once, and he only in a pair of boxers with the words “YOU KNOW YOU WANT IT” in white, on black. I shook my head, then used my left hand to pull down my hair and stick the elastic around the doorknob. I finished, washed my face, then walked out as he finished putting gel in his hair. I smirked, then in one quick motion, sliced my flattened-out hand through the air to graze the top of his head. His originally facing-forward hair was now in a cute state of disarray, which he didn’t seem to like as much as I did. He ducked, but I was still faster. I laughed and ran downstairs, jumping the last five and snatching a piece of garlic bread out of the oven to munch on.

It was round, probably two by five inches, and I nibbled on it carefully- both out of habit of taking small bites and because it was very hot. Hot food seriously hated me and burned me like gas at every opportunity. It’s out to get me I tell you! Which is why I always love ice cream- it’s much nicer to me. A.J. apparently didn't mind the heat, because he grabbed the other one I put in and crammed the whole thing in his mouth.

“You wanna make more?” He grabbed a remote and flipped on the TV at the round marble table on the other side of the kitchen counter, plopping down on a chair.

“No, I think I’m fine with one.” I grabbed a Starbucks Mocha Frappuchino out of the fridge, ecstatic that it was there, then began rapidly guzzling it down. Bad habits.

“Well you need to make more, cuz I’m gunna need to eat about ten more of those tiny things and you don’t want me to do it.” I paused to breathe, having downed half the bottle.

“Why not?” I took a sip, dropped a couple of One-A-Day’s into my mouth and swallowed.

“Because the last time I did, it exploded,” came my answer. Typical. I rolled my eyes and asked before continuing to devour my sugar,

“And when was this?” Glug, glug, glug.

“Last week.”

I choked, on the last sip, then tossed the bottle into the recycling. I forced myself to swallow, then continued to cough. I poured a cup of water, drank it, then stared at him in disbelief while he chugged a soda that was already on the table, and unopened. “WHAT?!”

“You have ears, don’t you? Didn’t you hear me?”

I muttered profanities under my breath as I put ten pieces of garlic bread into the smaller oven and set the time. #11- put whipped cream into his shaving cream.

I ran upstairs afterward to add that to the list and start my evil plan.