whatever. you’re mad at me. i get it. the whole “not writing” thing has gotten out of control and i totally suck. why should you forgive me for going MIA for 3,459 years when there’s important things to discuss like how basically everyone in hollywood is schtooping their nanny. and how amy schumer and/or her smokey eyes + coco need to be best friends. oh, and this?! i deserve your full ire. but in my defense, the last few months have been a bit unbearable. not “living with a kardashian” horrendous… but it’s been pretty gnarly.
it all started with my new job. after only two weeks, i realized that i worked for the devil. sadly, my devil boss-person didn’t wear prada nor did he look like meryl streep. instead, he has weird feathered hair and a propensity for screaming whilst shaking uncontrollably from a super-fun combination of rage, narcissism and possibly alcoholism. this was some next level hostility, y’all. and as the days crept along, i prayed for an escape out of hades.
but instead i got rats.
there is nothing that instills more coco dread than vermin. show me a picture of mickey mouse and i’ll show you the need for an involuntary 72 hour psych hold…and better throw in a lobotomy for good measure. so when i came home on a sunday after work (note: when you work for satan you work on weekends. all of them. because clearly there wasn’t a labor movement in hell), i went immediately to the kitchen to
drink a bottle of vodka feed stella the cat. it was then i noticed those small, brown vermin calling cards around my stove and the cat food. after having 2,389 panic attacks and googling “voluntary psych holds”, i went to home depot and bought every pet-friendly mouse trap they sell. all of them. and it was in that moment that i transformed from cute sassy coco into rambo.
in a matter of minutes, my kitchen looked like a mine field, with every inch covered with some sort of mouse-murdering apparatus. thankfully my neighbor let me sleep on his couch that night while i waited for my kitchen to transform into the vermin killing fields.
the next morning we anxiously entered ground zero to find that nothing had transpired. by then my saviors aka the pest control guys were on their way. after a thorough investigation, they let me know that it wasn’t bad. it appeared that my unwanted visitor came in through a small gap in the window screen and that they were drawn to the cat food. they were pretty sure that it was only one…tops two mice. “just?!” i asked if they were going to set off an atomic bomb in my apartment since that seemed like the most appropriate response. instead, they set a few more traps, shook my hand, and told me to call when i caught something. which meant i went back to home depot for even more traps (including one that electrocutes these vermin f*ckers), cried a bit, then got the f*ck outta there and spent the night at another dear friend’s house.
when i came home the next morning, i saw the realization of all my nightmares. sticking out of my vermin-electrocuting trap was a long-a$$ tail and a body that told me it wasn’t a mouse but in fact a F*CKING RAT! my beautiful, clean, quaint apartment was invaded by a rat! after having a brief but poignant nervous breakdown, the pest people came back and let me know that i wouldn’t die and that my rat problem was likely over and that i should probably breath and no i shouldn’t ask the air force to carpet bomb the building. to which i said, “LIKELY over?” and they said “yes” and that they were convinced there wasn’t more than one of these f*ckers from what they saw. to which i replied, “you’ve seen poltergeist right? just when you get carol-anne back from the tv and you think everything is ok but then you get pulled up your bedroom wall and skeletons start popping out of the pool. how can you promise me we don’t have another poltergeist-like situ here?!” they held back their eye rolls, patted me on the back, and told me to get some rest.
basically my life
after two nights at friends’ homes without incident, i came back to my apartment. finally the coast was clear! i quickly passed out on my bed with the promise of a vermin-free apartment. but within a few hours i found out that one of the worst ways to be woken up is by the sound of an electrocuting rat trap doing its job. Yup, rat number 2. i also found out that night that one of the worst ways you can try to go back to sleep is in the back seat of your fiat because there is no way you’re ever sleeping again in your apartment.
rinse/repeat…landlord called again. pest control called again. coco crashes at friend’s house again. another rat is caught again. it was then i was convinced we had a situ like in amores perros when that cute, sweet dog gets eaten by rats in the floor. i poured over the internet through my tears, trying to find a hotel that’ll take
a useless an oblivious cat and her sleep-deprived lunatic owner…something a lot harder than it should be. once a pet-friendly room was found (shout out to my peeps at the Pasadena Super 8!!), i manically threw random clothes and some toiletries in a bag, stella in her travel case and escaped my living hell.
as i pulled out the driveway i realized that I didn’t have a litter box for stella. instead of returning to ratopia, i decided to take a detour to my local CVS for kitty supplies. mind you, i hadn’t slept in days, i’d been crying for nearly as long, and it was also that time of the month. so pretty much i couldn’t have looked worse if you paid me. i wandered around the over-lit aisles looking for something that i could turn into a makeshift litter box and started crying again because ALL I F*CKING NEEDED WAS A LITTER BOX AND CVS COULDN’T EVEN HELP ME WITH THAT! i found a picnic tray that had high enough sides to transform into a litter tray…and somehow i also found goldfish crackers, a bottle of wine, and a bag of mini snickers because one should eat healthy during crises. While in line to pay, i kept dropping the bag of goldfish crackers which made me start crying yet again (notice the trend?). the gentleman behind me picked them up twice for me, and i thanked him profusely and mumbled something like “FML”. he chuckled…then all of a sudden he blurted out uncomfortably loud, “hey isn’t that jake gyllenhaal in front of you?” and sure enough, i never noticed through all my whimpering and dropping sh*t and feeling sorry for myself that THE HOTTEST MAN IN HOLLYWOOD AND BASICALLY MY SECOND-RUNNER-UP TO GEORGE CLOONEY WAS IN FRONT OF ME WAITING TO BUY AN ORANGE EXTENSION CORD!!!!!!!!
if you haven’t seen jake in “nightcrawler”..what the f*ck is wrong with you?!!! seriously if you haven’t watched it we can’t be friends.
so let’s recap…rats, next-level sleep deprivation, ugly crying, more rats, period bloat, hands full of junk food and cat litter…and i get to meet jake gyllenhall when i look worse than the above-pictured Poltergeist closet-ghost. clearly i was getting some sort of kharmic beating for being mean to that girl who picked her nose in the fourth grade. he sexily sauntered up to the next cashier as whispers gathered around the store at the realization that JAKE FREAKING GYLLENHAAL was with us mere mortals doing things that would almost make you think he was one of us…until you looked at his perfect hair and chiseled chin and did i mention that ridiculously cute butt?!! and then we were reminded that we were actually in the company of a god. a hot, talented, taught-a$$ed god. mesmerized by this perfect deity, i didn’t hear the next cashier screaming at me that her register was open. i slowly walked by him, drinking in all his perfection and feeling unworthy to share the same oxygen. i was paying for my cat litter and goldfish and wine when i noticed from the corner of my eye that jake was done and walking towards me. part of me wanted to shrivel up and disappear…but something deep inside me spoke to me and said, “coco…pull your sh*t together and look him in the eye and give him one of your trademark ‘hey i’m a sweet innocent girl but i’d still give you an HJ in the parking lot if you ask'” smiles. and sure enough, i flashed him a cheesy, awkward coco smile. to which he returned one right back at me as he walked away with his orange extension cord and my heart.
so jake…if you happen to be reading this…thank you. you made a shittacular week into something amazeballs. and if you’re not super busy, i wouldn’t mind if you night crawled into my window and kept me up for a few nights if-you-know-what-i-mean-wink-wink.
and don’t worry…the rats are gone. but sadly so are the goldfish and mini snickers.