Well girl you know you only hurt yourself.

Someone at work just called me "Creeping Death". True dat.

I am so horribly ill that it's not even remotely humorous. Bill had this a few weeks ago and he turned into the biggest baby on the planet which is unusual for him. Now I know why he was being such a terror. This is probably this worst cold/flu I've ever had and it's kicking the living daylights out of me. I've been reduced to whimpering which is what I do when I'm really feeling the sickness. And supposedly this one never ends. And while I can handle the insane coughing, headache, and muscle aches, I can NOT tolerate the alterations between freezing to death and sweating my ass off. Rot. I've dropped out of Rockabilly Holiday this year as a preventative measure (and I pretty much want to cry my dry, throbbing eyes out over that...even my EYES hurt) and I'm enlisting all the help I can to get ready for the New Year's Eve party. I'll need it, believe me!

Besides the illness, Christmas (with Puffin) was a good time. Bill loved his presents, I loved my presents (even the kids got me something), and I had an all around good time with him. Even when I was in insane amounts of discomfort and temperature meltdown! He brought me wet towels for my forehead and blankets and juiceboxes. He even offered to clean out the bathtub so I could soak my aches and pains. For a change, he was very understanding about me having the sicks...probably because he gave this stupid sickness to me!! But I forgive him. How could I not forgive someone who bought me a clock with the Playboy bunny head on it for my bar? My family holiday was a different story but that was all sickiness related. It's hard to be social when every part of you feels like poo.

If you DON'T want to feel like poo, watch BEERFEST! A-maz-ing!

I'm so glad I waited for this.

There is a toddler child in my office right now. It's making all sorts of toddler child noises which is, of course, making my skin crawl. It's talking like mad while it's mother is trying to have an adult conversation. She's pretty much ignoring it but I am having a much harder time doing so. I'm visualizing her giving it a quick punch and/or kick. Now it's running AND talking. It's insisting it must continue to run and gab but it just doesn't. It must stop before I go and trip it. I'm almost hoping it will make it's way to my cubicle so I can do away with it. Maybe if I tie some delivious and brightly colored candy up with string...then I can lure it over here. In all actuality, it's better off staying far away from me. I'm not in the mood to feign amusement over obnoxious toddler antics. Skin crawling!!!

Going out to chow with the family which is an unexpected treat. And we're going somewhere expensive which always makes the food taste just that much better. Call it food snobbery if you must but you know it's true. I plan on eating something that was once alive but has since been killed in a heinous manor (jack hammer, hack saw, death by "sleepy time" music) and then hung out in it's own natural juices waiting for me. That sounds just about as close to Heaven as I can get today. Swallowing dead animals without stopping to chew. Just like a common thug. I love meat. And I love the phrase "licking my chops".

I had a dream that Bill and I got a bull terrier last night. We lived together in this big house that looked exactly like the Ol' Kentucky Corral on the inside but had this looooooong back yard that had a weird staircase that led to more yard and patios and trees. Bizarre architecture and landscaping haunts my dreams. Anyway...I wanted to take our puppy out in the grass for the first time and wanted Bill to be there but I couldn't find him. Then I found all these people drinking beer on our weird second yard level patio and he was there, all zipped up on a sleeping bag, drinking beer. Pete Yorko's girlfriend, my nephew, and some weird middle eastern chicks we worked with (we don't work with any weird middle eastern girls) were there. The puppy had no name...and no interest in the grass. It was interested in going out of the gate (who leaves a gate open with a new puppy running about???) and sitting in it's water bowl.

I need a bull terrier puppy.

Shake that thing, I'll buy you a diamond ring!

I have ten minutes left of my lunch. Let's see what I can throw at you.

Sorry to burst your pretty pink bubbles but there's not much to report on regarding this weekend. I thought I'd have a boatload to ramble on about (since I have to utilize my lunch house...those freaks at Time Warner still haven't fixed my darn computer box...blather). There were cocktails, movies, sleeping, cooking, cleaning. This are getting mighty perty for the big New Year's Eve prom, I must say! That there bathroom is almost clean enough to eat in without fear of lingering...funk. I probably wouldn't go much further than chowing down on a hot dog with one hand sitting neatly in my lap. And I'm the one who's been slaving away in there! Regardless...I envision a mini-party in the can on the last day of the year. Be there.

Golly. What a bore. So...hello, y'all. And good-bye for now!

We know that Christmas will be green & bright!

You should probably prepare yourself for changing weather conditions because the past 2 days have been so splendid, so fulfilling, so delightful...I feel like I could just puke hearts and rainbows all over you while riding on a unicorn! Anyone familiar with Lipton's Giggle Noodle Soup is probably picturing that being splattered all over innocent bystanders but really...would you prefer that I was projectile tossing blood clots and severed limbs? I think not. Embrace my joy and spread it around like bodily fluids through a high school locker room. I may have even grossed myself out with that one.

Translation for the wordiness challenged: it's all gravy. I'm even excited about X-Mas for the first time in years (and you should wish you were my boyfriend since his gifts KICK ASS...I've always been good at that)! And there's Rockabilly Holiday round 2 for the PFG! Jingle-mutha-truckin'-bells, y'all!

Finally had a slumber party with a semi-sick Puffin after a week apart. A whole week apart doesn't work for me. I'm selfish when it comes to the man I love (and he loves me, too...who knew?!?). It didn't seem to work for him either since he told me how good it was to have me back in the bed. Who doesn't want a coconut-scented girl drafting them during cartoons? That's what I say! My Puffin has been sicky sick and has lost 12 pounds. His head looks small and it was startling. But I'm sure once I hula around the living room in my bacon bikini...hubba hubba. There's been lots of tomfoolery here at work that I base on the fact that adrenaline is flowing and excitement has been shot right up our cans. What am I talking about?!?!

WE'RE VEGAS BOUND, BABY! We're flying the friendly skies to the west coast in March (yes, I know Vegas in March and I don't have such a good track record) and boy-oh-boy are we gonna let the good times roll! We're going to gamble, drink, and attend every buffet possible (after we make it out of the coolest airport on the planet)! I'm going to play one slot machine at every casino on the strip! We're going to the race! AND...Puffin is going to jump out of an airplane! It's on his list of things to do before he dies and I'm helping to make it happen! In his own words...what would he do without me!?!? He's never been there and Vegas is my happy place so I predict some keeper memories will be made. There will be pictures. My camera and I are intimate. 88 days, suckers!

New Year's Eve party prep is in the works. Lives will be changed!

And every day's the same.

This week has been utterly horrific and I'm glad it's over. I want to puke all over this week. In the history books, make sure it's noted that this week is covered in stomach acid and bile. At least in my book it is. I know...all you're hearing is "WAH". I'm not crying. I just really detest this week. I haven't felt well, I haven't been getting along with Puffin and we haven't slept in the same bed in DAYS (he's sick...I'll blame the horror on that as he is a bad patient...he should be puked on as well), and I've been an emotional train wreck. But you know what cures that?

Cheap pizza, even cheaper beer, and watching some horrible show about celebrities (Celebrity Eye Candy, I believe it was called) where the announcer wrote God awful songs about the video clips that just blew my mind. And doing this with some of my peeps? Well hot DOG, it must be my birthday! One of my peeps is still sleeping on my couch as I type this (she's there...I'm not...I'm a working woman...I'm up before the birds). It was a knee-slappin' good time and I throughly amused myself. Especially when I revealed my ultra secret new tattoo idea. It was laughed at and that's what I was going for. It may very well be my crowning gem. Hold on to your bladders, people.

You know what else is funny? Dr. Armshoulder Shoesnshorts. THAT is funny.

It's freezing cold at work right now. It's only 6:25a and all but it is like an icy tomb in here! My fingernails look blue. That can't be good or healthy or desired. I've been up since 5:30a but I don't even mind. I couldn't sleep if someone paid me. But damn...if someone paid me to do that, I'd be a gazillionaire. I can sleep anywhere at any time. New York subway, an apartment with no heat in winter time while a band is recording, during almost every single televised NASCAR race, during a live performance of Phantom of the Opera, during a live Green Day concert...I am JUST that good! Regardless, I couldn't sleep this morning so I don't even really care about being here at work on a Saturday. Almost all of my guys have showed up and if I don't have to call Bill on a Saturday for a rescue, I consider the day a success. *FOOTNOTE: I just had to call Bill for a rescue...damn it. And everything was running like butter on a summer day...I was going for 'smoothe' but that really projects 'salty and melted'. Regardless, poop.***

I want one of these ridiculously kick ass things:

I'd name it "The Honorable Stoli-san". When the cats die, maybe.

Don't worry 'bout them haters!

LUDA!

No matter how much time passes, "One Time For Me" by Reverend Horton Heat remains a damn sexy song. I think it could bring sexy back all on it's own so eff you, Timberlake! I mean, it's just plain hot, like a buttery breakfast bagle straight from the toaster. Or like home made soup...that can sure be hot. Everytime I hear it, I get a little riled up. I think it's the simple yet memorable guitar mixed with the slow-sensual/fast-aggressive changes. I wish I could erase that last sentence because it's so ridiculous but it is so true! Ridiculous yet true, the story of my life. While "Loco Gringos Like a Party" is still my favorite Rev song and will most likely remain so since he's gone down the tubes, "One Time For Me" will be one I never skip over when surfing the good, ol' Ipod.

I just heard someone say, "Would you please remove your hand from my butt". Yikes!

It's 8:00a and I'm eating Graeter's Cinnamon ice cream for breakfast! It is the most insane ice-cream I've ever had and I can't believe I haven't had an orgasm yet. One pint has 1,040 calories, it's over 25% fat, and I love it! I've really been spoiled this weekend. I'm in our state capital visiting Queen B and her King. They are wonderful friends and entertainers. They got me out of the house and off the couch (I've been having a rough and unmotivated week) but didn't make me do anything I didn't want to. Damn this ice-cream! I pretty much stop typing every other sentence to shovel in a spoonful. I am going to be soooo soft after Christmas.

Regardless of my dairy problems...the ride here was relaxing and quick! I was kissed, hugged, and given suggestions ("Be safe, have fun, call me when you get there") from Puffin after a good night's sleep. I fell asleep during the NASCAR awards but NOT before I saw Kyle Bush call his girlfriend by the wrong NAME! Priceless. So I made it here, spent time gossiping and filling them in on all the Sharks, and we hit the road. We had aBBQ lunch, went to Wal-Mart (where all the rude ass bastards work...I should have spit on them), stocked up on Trader Joe's truffles (I bought 3 cans!!!), and then went to Graeter's for ice cream, hence my breakfast of choice. I lounged, read a magazine, and fell asleep watching Accepted and Van Wilder. Puffin tucked me in over the phone and I was OUT! And here we are now...eating ice cream for breakfast.

I also ate an entire wheel of Brie for dinner. Dairy problems!

Once I get back to lovely Clevo, I'll be cleaning my bathroom and bedroom. Not so thrilling but ultra necessary. After all, we have a big New Year's Eve bash in less than 30 days! I hope that Tom and Carol sleep in my room again. I have such a fond memory of New Year's Day 2006 where all these people were piled in my room and then we had PIE! It started off the year right. But then the year SUCKED! I blame it on not having enough pie through the year. Pie solves all problems, especially if it's warm and a la mode. I bet you wished I talked about things with more substance but I don't give 2 figs about politics or religion or philosophy. I care about goofing off, eating pie, my friends, and utter randomness.

It's been a good weekend. I feel alive again after feeling VERY much like a robot zombie. You would think that would be a cool feeling but it's pretty rotten over all. I like robots. I like zombies. But robot zombies...or zombie robots? Not really on my coolness radar. Enjoy your Sunday!

For the moment, we're alone.

Holy shucked clams, I have a great group friends. I am one lucky bitch! Thanks to everyone that's been cool, Fonzie-style, over the weekend. Thanks to everyone who has been cool ever during my entire life...but especially over the weekend. Life is rough and some times you can't hold your head abover water without your crew. Your gang, if you will. They are like a really attractive and witty floatation device. Whenever I need someone to lean on, I've got a school of sharks to help a sistah out. So thanks to everyone. How many times can I say it? If I didn't have a horrific singing voice, you'd all get a healthy dose of "Lean On Me" right now! And by the way, I think you're all terribly h-o-t!

10 Things I Was Thankful For This Weekend!

I made my first turkey and it was a success!
I totally raped the HELL out of Netflix on Turkey Day!
I survived Target on the busiest shopping day of the year!
I bought a Christmas tree and ornaments!
I finished my living room artwork project!
I loved my DVR to death for days!
I had a sexy dinner with T-n-C and Switchblade at PF Chang's!
I grew ten feet of legs for the Pussyfoot photo shoot!
I had a Shark family reunion at Chuck's including Peeeeeete!
I, for once, got drafted all through the night!

So another holiday weekend has come to a close. I'm not going to say it was the most fantastic ever (even if it DID include retro issues of Penthouse for The Gray Ghost), but I know I should count my blessings. I'm not homeless or sick or lonely or unemployed or poverty stricken. I have friends and lots of shoes and expensive lip gloss and pink pots-n-pans and multiple episodes of Miami Ink and The Pussyfoot Girls. Life could be worse. It really could. How you handle the hardships in your life is a good measure of the kind of person you are. I'm a rocker. And I would like the following photgraphs slathered all over my funeral when I go to that great big townie bar in the sky:

No one here wants to fight me like you do.

Jimmie Johnson won the Nextel Cup. Bill's life is pretty much complete now. I drank way too many Blue Moons and have pretty much determined that Belgium wheat beer turns me into a monster. So no more of that and no more drinking on work nights and pretty much no more bad alcoholic behavior. Me + Bill + drunkeness = bad. Just plain bad. But all is currently good in our little bubble now that the alcohol is out of our systems. I think you need a good brawl every once in awhile (in a "blue moon", if you will) to clean out the pipes. Rid of the toxins. I couldn't have behaved too badly because I got a nice back rub this morning.

I ruined past last night. I live off noodles. How is this possible?

Turkey Day is right around the corner and for once, I'm looking forward to the big day! I'm not usually real huge on holidays unless it's my birthday or Halloween and I definitely piss on holidays where I don't get presents. But this year is different as I'm doing something I WANT to do rather than fulfilling some obligation. I'll miss seeing my parents and my sisters and their families for sure but it's not like I really get one-on-one time with them with having such a big family and all. BIg families can suck the life out of you, but I'm lucky. Don't get me wrong.

So...my big Turkey Day plans? Bill's taking care of the bird, I'm doing the rest, and I'm not getting out of my pajamas all day! Food, movies, football (for him...I'll catch up on magazines), napping...no work, no arguing, no responsibilities other than to be lazy bums and recover from the big show at Chuck's on Wednesday night (Lords, Yokels, Uncle Scratch, and the return of PEEEEEEEEEEETE!). PLUS...for the first time ever...no work on Friday! A nice, long, lazy weekend! And if you want to show me how thankful you are for my presence in your life, why not come over Saturday night to play Left Right Center and eat pizza and drink beer with me and Switchblade?! I think you should. He thinks so, too.

I watched an octopus eat a shark and I didn't appreciate it.

I'm torn between the things that I should do.

God bless America, my television is back on! That new fangled internet, too! In fact, all of my important bills are caught up and a great weight has been lifted! I'll take care of my credit cards (the devil, I tell you) with my paycheck and send off the refund check to make things square with one of my nearest and dearest and then things are good. Real good. Damn good. I feel some sweet relief and I like it! It's like taking a bath in cheese fondue. Yum-o! But thruthfully, it's hard to admit you've sunk so low that your cable got turned off or the gas company asked for a deposit but things are good now and they're going to stay way. Damn skippy!

I had a nice little visitor yesterday in the form of one Phoebe Bean! I knew she was coming by to pick up mail and shoes and gaze upon my beauty. What I didn't know was that she was coming baring gifts! I love gifts. Love 'em. Especially when they're unexpected because I don't deal well with surprises. She brought me a 6 pack of Blue Moon and a lovely orange and she even brough a bag of kitty food for Dr. Nightmare with a bow on it. How sweet was that? Totally sweet, like ninjas. So thanks, Phoebe. I really needed that like you wouldn't believe. And Sylvia the Peg Leg thanks you, too! Come play with us again when we have more time and tell me AS SOON as you watch the episode of GG where Lane gets married! Weeeeeeee!

Here's my weekend schedule in case you're worried I'm in a horrid coma:

I'm having a vegetable day today. It's so rainy and nasty out that I can't think of anything better to do than put on my pajamas, chow, and watch movies with Puffin. Don't get me wrong, I do like the rain...because I LIKE being in my jammies, chowing, watching flicks...especially with Puffin! And we have some really terrible new releases to fall asleep to tonight.

Tomorrow, Dr. Nightmare goes back to the vet and hopefully gets the boot off for good and I get nothing but good, encouraging news. And then it's cleaning time! I got so much accomplished last weekend that I feel the need to keep on trucking before my closet renovation begins! A bigger closet...va-va-voom!

And then of course, Sunday is the last NASCAR race. I have Stewart and Kenseth in the pool but I'll be all decked out in Jimmie gear per a certain someone's request. Supposedly, I'm somewhat lucky...or my head is (that could sound dirty). And somewhere in my weekend schedule, I need to fit in The Girls Next Door season 1. What can I say? I'm hooked on Hef and his blonde broads. Why do you think I gave Bill th enickname Puffin? I am sooooo getting soft in my late twenties!

Life is good and I don't care if loving all y'all makes me a hippie!

Can't believe these people live like kings.

10 Things That Blow Goats Without Physically Blowing Them

1. I am currently without cable or internet at home.
2. I got into a stupid fight with Bill last night.
3. My money situation is way dumb.
4. Dr. Nightmare is injured and it's my fault.
5. Lorelai married Christopher and I hate him.
6. I don't think my dishwasher is working.
7. Something is thumping under my new car.
8. I miss Becky...and Phoebe...and Johnny...and pals.
9. A little kid I actually like is sick. Boo.
10. I can't stop throwing up.

10 Things That Couldn't Be Any More K-Rad At The Moment

1. Bill got my the Playboy with the girlfriends on the cover!
2. We're having White Trash Thanksgiving.
3. My house is on it's way to being clean and looking GOOD!
4. NASCAR party this weekend.
5. 115 days until our vacation and 1 year anniversary.
6. Actually looking forward to Christmas.
7. I'm losing lots of weight and loving it!
8. I have a fondue date next week with Sharon D.
9. A relatively tuff guy let's me call him "Puffin".
10. Grey's Anatomy tomorrow looks awesome!!

I don't want to forget how your voice sounds.

Pussyfoot Girls at Chuck's Steakhouse in Akron tonight. Don't know who we're playing with and don't how much it costs. I do know that we're first and I do know the night starts a-rockin'at 10:00p. And I also hope they pay me in steaks. I'm not sure how the other girls will feel about that but it will suit me just fine. I'd like to wear a bikini out of steaks but I'll have to settle for wearing my new plaid skirt. I don't want wild dogs chasing after me, after all. Though the skirt my illicit the same response. There's only one wild dog I want chasing after me! Drat! My plan has been foiled!

Long story short (too late!), Chuck's Steakhouse tonight. Be there in your underwear.

What did I do this weekend, you may ask? Ummmmm...good question. Days off seem to blend together as of late. I know I showered. That sort of sticks out. Ah...I went out for cocktails for my gentleman caller. It was a pretty rockin' time. We followed that up with pizza, more beer, and Yahtzee before we retired for the evening. I like to retire. I especially like retiring after winning 2 Yahtzee games in a row. I want to be as good at Yahtzee as I am at Uno. Some people choose to call me a "fucker" while we play since I'm so darn good! Don't be jealous.

SUNDAY! SUNDAY! SUNDAY! No, not monster trucks! I thought I'd be participating in a Pussyfoot photo shoot but that got the axe when Carol felt like someone was using her head as a bowling ball. Instead, I put on Jimmie Johnson pajama pants and a Jimmie Johnson hat and watched him get beat my Tony Stewart in Texas. I wasn't in Texas. They were. It was a good race since Kasey Kahne went down in flames. Not real flames. I'm probably just confusing you and I doubt you care about the race. You might care about the fact that I never got off the couch and was served dinner and beer all evening. But you might be jealous that I was such a pampered pooch!

I love weekends. I'm glad we get to have one all over again starting tomorrow!

However, I hate unwarranted cable disconnections. I'll have no access to e-mail, My Space, blogs, my Netlix queue, nudie pics, my bank account, life-giving TELEVISION...nothing...until next week when they come to hook me back up. Selfish jerks, separating a gal from her true loves. Any way, if you don't hear from me, I'm not MIA. I'm just communiaction challenged for the time being. VIVA!

Don't break the silence. Don't let me win.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my father who gave me my name, first and last, always helps me out of horrific and microscopic jams without thinking twice,who doesn't think any less of me when I make mistakes, and who is genuinely interested in everything I do. Thanks for being my Dad. I'm a pretty lucky gal.

I had a 2 hours phone conversation last night that kept me up past midnight when I had to be up for work at 5:00a. It's been a long time since I had a phone call like that. Probably since high school. My catch-up calls to the Queen in Columbus don't even last that long (I miss you Becky). But it was pretty awesome. Lots of laughs. Made my heart feel good.

Feast your eyes on this true story and then get your tubes tied.

A Kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children while they
were drawing. She would occasionally walk around to see each child's work.

As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she asked what the
drawing was.

The girl replied, "I'm drawing God."

The teacher paused and said, "But no one knows what God looks like."

Without missing a beat, or looking up from her drawing, the girl replied,
"They will in a minute."

I'll eventually post the rest of October's entries. They're hanging out on my hard drive, rotting and detesting me, just like my readers. I just figured I'd give you something new to read and loathe. There are great tales of the Pussyfoot show and then putrid tales of Halloween that I will probably edit to save my pride. Regardless, things are good right now, the New Years Eve party is in motion...life is good.

Have a very rock-n-roll weekend, y'all!

Give me something. Give me something real.

Happy 35th Birthday BILLY SHARKTOOTH!

Thanks for your drunken babble last night.
Thanks for telling me how good I smelled.
Thanks for growing your hair out ofr 2 weeks.
Thanks for letting me change the Speed channle to Cartoon Netowrk.
Thanks for waking me up at midnight to tell me you were 35.
Thanks for opening your presents before work.
Thanks for liking your presents.
Thanks for going to lunch with me today.
Thanks for going to dinner and my 1st haunted house with me tomorrow.
Thanks for letting me be a part of your birthday...and your life.

You don't look a day over 34! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

P.S. I got a digital camera today so everyone better LOOK OUT!

He taught me the way to win your heart.

I know there's a lot going down this Saturday with it being so close to Halloween and all but I think you should take attending the following event into consideration because I pretty much guarantee a rockin' good time or your money back. Actually, I can't give you your money back. But I still guarantee a rockin' good time!



Your ever-evil Pussyfoot Girls are joining forces with Lords of the Highway and Lost It!!! (<----first show EVER) in a brave attempt to rock in Halloween and cover you in blood, guts and gore (and probably beer and sweat, too). We're doing two sets so make sure you get there early. Get your drink on! Socialize! Shake with anticipation!

This is a horrific Halloween event that you don't want to miss! Chicks with knives! Fighting fans! Ninjas vs. Geishas! And maybe, just maybe, the theme songs to Batman and The Blob! All of this plus some local rock-n-roll that could cause your head to explode, splattering your brains on innocent music/dancing girls enthusiasts! What more could you want?!?!?!

SATURDAY OCTOBER 28th

The Jigsaw Saloon and Stage at State and Brookpark in PARMA!

Lost It! The Pussyfoot Girls! Lords of the Highway!

9pm. $5

See you there...if you dare!

Gotta be real cool to hear the words he said.

It's almost time for Pussyfoot practice and it's my day off so I really don't feel like jawin' to y'all. It wasn't really the best of days off and I'm not really feeling too hot. Actually, I AM hot with fever but that's not the kind of hot I like to be. What I DO feel like doing is strutin' my stuff with these gals below for awhile! And then I feel like drafting. But what else is new. OK...jaw is shut!

Taking their time right behind my back.

I'm not going into details, but I woke up yesterday so chipper and high on life and went to bed some melancholy and testy. Let's just say my family function sort of made me feel like a loser, through no one's fault but my own. However, my mom just flat out rules, as does my dad, and the beed lo-main at PF Chang's is kick ass. I eat around the beef. I'm a noodle girl.

I was down in the dumps (I really had that term but I'm not feeling wordy today) when I left there, I was invited to spend the day with "some good people" and I was cheered up by 3 little (and 1 extra large) Sheppards. We played with toys and played video games and air hockey and watched the race and for awhile, my spirits were lifted. But I sunk down again. Again, through no one's fault but my own.

I didn't say much that night and I know Bill was worried. He doesn't like to see me all quiet. I think he'd rather see me go nutty or something. He can deal with nutty. He can't deal with quiet or with not knowing what's up. I didn't want to ruin our rockin' Sweetest Day weekend but I didn't want to say, "Hey, do you think I'm a loser?" either.

I'm taking the day off work tomorrow. A personal day. I earned it for the quarter. I have things I need to accomplish and I need a mental health day to just...set my mental health right. I probably shouldn't sleep at Bill's tonight so I can take advantage of sleeping in but I probably will anyway because I'm a bad decision maker. I'd rather draft him than a stuffed ghost anyway.

Sorry ghost. Who loves ya baby?

We've got each other and that's a lot.

Sweetest Day is my new favorite holiday (outside of my birthday which will just always reign supreme and should probably be a national religious holiday or day of observance or something swelled-headed). Let me tell you why such this 50% cold blooded, cold hearted, spitting and all around rotten (and 50% romantic, mushy, traditional, pile of emotional wreckage) person but away the hate for a day to just feel the love.

I tooka shower (thank the LORD), shaved my legs, lotioned, perfumed, make-up-ed, wore a cute outfit...with heels!!!...and even had a fancy hair-do. I was sort of excited about the whole she-bang! We had a date planned and it seemed like we had both been looking forward to it. I was pretty giddy and sllightly nervous. I made cookies for the occasion. Emotional cookies.

I walk in the house and there are flowers and a card. I'm female. I like flowers.

And a pink gift bag filled with stuff. I am female. I like stuff!

I made out like a bandit! Flowers, card, chocolate covered strawberries, a stuffed Snoopy, a stuffed shark, a skeleton key, more candy, lotto tickets, and a Saki set (or I guess it could be a tea set) from a Chinese restaurant that I REALLY wanted! It was incredible. It showed that he's been paying attention. AND he got me a 12 of PBR (since we're usually Busch Lite people at his house). I enjoyed cocktails and watched 'Corpse Bride' while he cooked...I was banned fromt he kicthen.

When I was allowed in, my plate was all made up and the flowers and candles were ont he table. It was...well...pretty mushy romatic! We had steak, potatos, corn, peas, and bread. AND BEER! We even ate at the kitchen table. After taht we had a fire outside and sat all snuggly. Then we watched the new 'Omen'. Maybe it doesn't sound too fancy or romantic or excting to you but we didn't need to go out and get lobster tail or blow tons of money or be with other people. We didn't really need anything but each other. He knows me. I get that now.

Feel free to throw up now. I'm sure I will. It was just good stuff.

Now I'm off to a family function and I hope I survive it.

So many doubts frequent my mind all the time.

Today is Sweetest Day in Michigan and Ohio. I gave a present to my marshmallow this morning and he dug it. I wasn't shocked that I didn't get one in return. He said I have things coming my way when we meet up again later for our Sweetest Day date. Even if I get a home made construction paper card, I'll be happy. In fact, I don't even need that, and not because this isn't a real holiday but because he's making me dinner. And he is the one who called it romantic. Cooking me a romatic dinner. This man could could me a hostile dinner and I'd be fine and dandy. Especially if it was a hostile porkchop! I don't even really need the dinner either though I do like to scarf down the chow. It's just cool that I get to spend the day with him. We've come a long way since Valentine's Day.

Happy Sweetest Day to all the romantic and hostile people out there!

And congratulations to Greg and Anne Yanito who have probably said I do down in Tennessee by now. I wish them all the happiness in the world because they are mighty fine people. You better bring back pictures Carol Anne Patrice!

Smoke a cigarette and lie some more.

I have a secret. I am not telling anyone. Not just yet. Because my secret makes me feel very, very silly and a little dirty. I'm not saying if I feel physically dirty (like I just robber a grave and am covered in death) or emotionally dirty (like I just cheated on my fella with his best friend). But I do feel slightly dirty. And silly. But I also feel very ALIVE! And like I need to slap on some deoderant. Anyway, it's good to be alive. I'm glad your'e all alive. Unless you zombies. Because then YOU are technically not alive. And you're probably dirtier (physically AND emotionally) and stinkier that I am. Go back to sleep, zombies!

I like having a secret. Sure, it's not as fun as having the secret about the guy from Legendary Shack Shakers, but it's still fun. For now. Cause I know I'll break on this one. I'll probably tell Carol the first chance I get because any semi-dirty/stinky secret I have seems to fall right out of my mouth when I see her. She's like a smut-magnet. I know that sounds bad and I hope she doesn't take any offence to that because I just mean that I feel I must tell Carol everything whether she wants to know or not. Actually...ESPECIALLY if she wants to know or not! She'll never look at coffee the same again, I'll tell you what.

Well don't get hot and bothered!

I feel like being naked so I think I am going to be...naked.

I don't feel like writing anything much today...just like yesterday.

So I'm not going to write. I'm going to be naked. ADIOS!

Oh, how I need a hand in mine to feel!

Us Pussyfoot Girls have a show coming up that I'm excited about.

Bill's birthday is right around the corner and I'm set!

The nachos I'm eating are pretty delicious and I made them.

My new driveway and new paths are very attractive.

Rachel Ray is a culinary and witty genius.

...

...

Thank you and good night.

He couldn't stay. No harbor was his home

I suppose it's time for me to issue an apology.

I'm not apologizing for not getting the blogs out on time. Blam that on flipping Blogger. They've been sitting around and molding on my desktop because I've been saving them cut-n-paste style to upload, to afriad I'd lose some of the brilliant ramblings I'd collect to actually ATTEMPT to post.

I will apologize for that run-on sentence though. GOLLY!

What I want to apologize about...actually WHO I want to apologize TO...is John Denver. Yes, I am afraid that at the beginning of this month, I did John Denver wrong. He was not, in fact, a wife beater. NO...he was a CHEATER. That's what he was. He wrote the beautiful tune "Annie's Song" (which Me First and the Gimme Gimmes masterfully cover on 'Love Their Country') to win back his wife after cheating. Not after beating her. I think he did get her back after that romantic stunt.

But not until AFTER she cut down all the trees around their Colorado home. The trees he specifically bought the house for because he loved them so much. Way to go, Mrs. Denver. Way to symbolically kick him the balls. I really don't want to talk about a dead man's balls. Rest in Peace, John Denver.

In his mind, he's still driving.

HAPPY 14th BIRTHDAY BRIAN! My Iron Maiden smile up at you from Hell today!

Who had the best weekend???

Well, I'll say any person who has been swimming with sharks, won the lottery, or said the exact right thing to the exact right person at the exact right time, or any person who met Tim Burton, John Waters, or the ghost of Ed Wood. But I had a pretty damn fine weekend if I do say so myself! I am officially a race fan. In a way, I really need to thank Bill for claiming he could turn me into a hillbilly in just 2 weeks. I think I was born to watch NASCAR. It gets my heart pumping AND I can drink lots and lots of beer while doing it. Weeeeeee!

Ready for a choppy recap?

Friday: Left work earlier than planned. Went to Wal-Mart for snacks and UNO (side story: Bill and I have been playing lotsa Yahtzee and he said he thought of bringing it but how silly that we can't find anything more fun to do in a hotel toom than play Yahtzee. Wink wink. We paused and I said, "Let's buy UNO!". And he was like, "OK!". It was cute. We like games). Accidentally left without a road trip Shark which is bad luck. Had my hoodie though. Hit the road. Lots of driving. Lots of talking. Driving. And Driving. Me First and the Gimme Gimmes. Music. Food. Crazy Virgina Country Kitchen with bad green beans and potato pudding. Smooching. Driving. CHARLOTTE! GREAT hotle. Cute town. Showers. Pizza. Nookie. Drafting. Carttons. Sleep. Good Friday! Good night!

Saturday: Got up. Ate muffins. Played UNO. Kicked ass at UNO. Got dressed. Drove to the area of the track to check out the town. Bought a Jimmie Johnson cooler, Jamie and Tony stickers, a Jimmie hat (representing for my man). Ate at Hooters. Vowed to never eat at Hooters again. Went to the mall. LOVED the mall. LOVED Charlotte. Played the "When I move to Charlotte" game. Liked the idea of living in Charlotte with Bill. Bought Sharon D. a treat. Back to the hotel. Napped. Went to the race early. Drank beer. Got a Jamie shirt, NASCAR blanket (for signing up for a credit card), Tony beer cozie, Jamie coffe mug. Found our seats and they ROCKED! Facing the pits. Could see everything! Lots of crashes! Lots of wrecks! Rockin' race! Goofed off and just loved being alone with Bill. Loved him more than ever. Walked to the car. Got lost. Got found. Got back. More pizza. FREAK SHOW WAS ON! Drafting. Sleeping.

Sunday: Packing, showering, heading home. Not too much excitement from there. The ride home is always long and tedious. You want your bed and your pillows and a shower and food. Decided I couldn't eat any more fast food for ahwhile becaise I felt like all I had consumed was junk. Also decided to never let a cigarette touch these lips again because Bill was like a human smoke machine this weekend. Two bad habits broken. Made it home safe and sound and knew that Bill and I sure do make a fine team. He could be my crew cheif any day.

P.S. Tony and Jamie wreched on the 2ns lap. That's a fine how do you do!

I didnt move to the city, the city moved to me.

"Hi. You have reached Lacey and Bill. We're driving home from the race right now. We'll call you back when we've showered all of this road trip residue and southern hospitality off of us. As the head of Al Gore said, PEACE OUT Y'ALL!"

Seein' things that I may never see again.

"Hi. You have reached Lacey and Bill. We're at Lowe's Motor Speedway in Charlotte, North Carolina. We'll call you back when we get the taste of rubber out of our mouths."

Long way to go and a short time to get there.

And we...are...out of here!

Try to miss me as much as humanly possible while I am gone because that is how much I will miss you. I wish I could take a lock of everyone's hair to rub on my face during the drive but that would just be too much work for my scissors and too much fodder for my future Psychiatrist. We'll be trucking right past Winston-Salem so I'll be sure to blow it a kiss and say it's from all my peeps from OH who represent at Heavy Rebel.

But for now...

GONE RACIN'!!!

GO TONY!

GO JAMIE!

Sidenote: I am really not a hillbilly. Eventhough I have nothing against hillbillies. I prefer Squidbillies but whatever. And I am by no means a redneck which I think applies more to Nascar anyway. I just like cars that go real fast and crash a lot. And I like that sound...zooooooom! Zoooooooom! Zooooooom!

The world isn't coming to an end.

Sometimes passing up drafting a snuggable man has it's benefits because...

...I FEEL BETTER!

I woke up this morning feeling great and thank GOD because there was no time to spare. We're leaving for North Carolina TOMORROW!! He was all worried about my being sick and having a bad time (little does he know that if the plague continued, he was going to have to rustle up another road tripper) and in turn, him having a bad time. But I see clear skies and good times ahead! We are healthy and Charlotte bound!

But we didn't get here without some bumps in the road. Besides the illness, there have been some tiffs. I was accused of doing something I didn't do (what else is new?) when in all actuality, it was Bill's fault all along (he was my accuser of course). First, he showed up at my desk sporting a pouty face with 2 candy bars and a note that said "I am sorry. Love, Bill". Then he took me to lunch where he asked what he needed to do for me to forgive him and have fun at the race. I told him what he could do and he did it. He got on the PA at work (which I ahev NEVER heard him do, EVER) and said, "This is Bill. Lacey, I'm sorry". But sorry for what? This prompted PA announcement number 2. "This is Bill again. I'm sorry for being an asshole". Yeah, all was good after that.

So here we are. Leaving tomrorow. WEEEEEE! I ahev Stewart so cheer him on!

And if you haven't gotten the new Me First and the Gimme Gimmes CD (which you won't since "Love Their COuntry" won't be out until TUESDAY), you should. "Jolene" is just AMAZING! AMAZING! And "Annie's Song" by John Denver? GREAT! Though I did learn he wrote that after CHEATING on his wife. Not BEATING her. Whoops! Just get it. You want it. Johnny Cash. Hank Williams. SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT!?!?! COME ON!

Yeah. I'm a super fan.

There's no escape without a scrape.

Cough! Sneeze! UGH!

Went to Bill's last night (how many blogs can I start with that sentence) which was probably a big mistake. He needed to borrow my car to pick up the kids so I got dropped off at his digs and was sent right to bed. There was no TV and I was fussy upstairs alone. I could feel how awful I looked but I came down anyway. The kids probably told their mother I'ma zombie but hey, I'm still a hot zombie from time to time.

They family went to a soccer game and I laid dying on the couch watching the boob tube. I watched 2 episode of 30 Minute Meals and some Full House. I helped Taylor with some math homework...yes, I said math homework because believe it or not haters, I can handle long division with decimals...and then my head was just somewhere else. I got my good-bye hugs and crashe donce again. I went to bed with a headache and feeling of ill and woke up with a sore throat, ear ache, cough.

I'm doing something I usually hate to do and that's sleeping in my own bed tonight. I'm just to groggy and snotty and sick city to be driving 20 minutes just to infect someone else and spread my germs. They're already all over his linens and pillows. In fact, I'm pretty sure I woke up and he had created a germ barrier between us with a pillow (though he denies it). So I'm a home body tonight. I have soup, I have juice, I have Airborne, and South Park and Freak Show are on tonight so I'm all set.

I have a soft stuffed ghost that will have to be a Bill stand-in tonight.

I NEED TO GET BETTER! SOMEBODY CURE ME ALREAD!!!!

No pill's gonna kill my ill.

Are you kidding me!? You have GOT to be kidding me! I went to Bill's last night and uttered the dumbest words in the history of dumb words (not surpassing "nincompoop" or "snickerdoodle" or "squeegee" though). "I don't want to jinx anything but I think I'm getting sick". Well, good going dummy. That's a surefire way to get a cold.

And I've got one. I need Airborne and sleep. I am NOT missing the race. God, Jesus, the whole lot of 'em up there can be punished with cancer later in life but I need this cold to be gone by 1:00p on Friday. If I get a stiff neck, I know that I and the race are done for. Someone make me some chicken soup and fluff my pillows please. Ugh, why does my body hate me and why does it choose to hate me at THEE worst times? I'm getting riled up. I need to rest my head on my desk.

I am NOT sick! I am NOT sick! I am NOT sick!

And as an end note to any higher powers that are reading, please don't give me cancer. I don't really want it. I just have a big mouth and talk a big game. I'm an ass. So...cancer free zone over here.

It lets you know where you stand.

Holy flipping flapjacks! So much neeeeeeeeeeews!

I have like zero time to make this report because I'm typing on the sly which is not very professional but if I didn't get some things off my chest, I would have jugs like Dolly Parton! And those could kill a man. A lot of jugs can, in fact. Potsie's jugs surely could, even if one is bigger than the other ad she can't wear horizontal stripes. As Ricki Lake once said, "Our bosoms are our weapons".

So here's the quick lowdown:

1. Camping was a blast. People loved Bill and he had fun/ I think he bonded with my sisters and one of my nephews. We chowed down, we had way to much hot chocolate, we survived the Haunted Forrest, we took walks, we sat by the fire, we at S'Mores, and we didn't freeze to death like Tessa and I did two years ago (I am a ghost now by the way, much like Juliana Hatfield in that episode of "My So-Called Life"). It was a blast and I'm glad we went. Sometimes it's cool to hang with family. And it's really fun to know you can HAVE FUN without beer.

2. I gave Bill a one of a kind, custom made Jimmie Johnson light-up pumpkin (foam so he can use it all year) and I think it was a blessing because WE ARE GOING TO THE RACE THIS WEEKEND! It's a long story on how the tickets and hotel fell into our laps but they DID and that's what counts! He could have asked anyone to join him and he asked me and I am JAZZED! We're leaving work early on Friday for Lowe's Motor Speedway in Charlotte, North Carolina. Lowe's is "The House That Jimmie Built" so how perfect that we are heading out to that track? A whole wekeend away from work...just the 2 of us. Maybe it sounds redneck and silly to you, but I am really excited. Pee in my pants excited. Kick a puppy excited. Retard like strength excited.

What a rockin' weekend. For real. Fo sho'. Just what I needed (just what I NEEDED!!!).

Everyone will think that I'm a stupid drifter.

"Hi. You have reached Lacey and Bill. We are not here at the moment casue we're camping it up. Please leave your message after the tone and we'll get back to you whenever the flip we feel like it".

I'll have to pack my things and go.

Can you say LAZY FREAKING BUMS???

We didn't do ANYTHING last night! Not a THING! And I didn't even MIND which means I'm getting elderly. Seriously though, work burns us out and we just crashed while watching Cast Away in our pajamas in bed. I woke up with a vicious stomach ache which lead me to believe Robot Wolves were clawing their way through my intestinal track. It's never fun to have a tummy ache at your guy's house but luckily, he was in a coma. I could have projectile vommited all over the house and he would have never known. All is better now. It HAS to be. We're going camping and I really don't feel like pooping in the woods, killing various life forms.

I need to pack since I was such a flipping lazy, carmping bum last night. See y'all later unless I get eaten by a bear or slaughtered in the haunted forrest. Oh yeah, there is SO a haunted forrest.

Mama goes to town just to sing and sway.

Tonight is the DVD release show for Lords of the Highway at the Beachland. I've been such a show bum recently that I doubt I'll be in attendance. Plus, Carol has gone west and she is one of my top reasons for going to shows anyway. If she's not there, really...what's the point? Who will entertain me? I guess the kick-ass bands will do that but still. I'm a working class bum and I pretty much see myself in my pajamas by 7:30p. But if YOU go, make sure to pick up a copy of the DVD for your viewing pleasure. I make several appearances in the videos (one time it was my birthday and I was drunk and the other time, I had porno hair and was drunk) AND make my acting debut as AMBER, the teenage, trailer trash, mother of Dennis A. Bell's baby. Watch it. Love it.

We're going to my family campout tomorrow and within the parameters of "we" lies Bill and myself. It's the first family event he's going to and I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous. He's the most straight laced guy I've ever brought home. He's got a normal job and makes good money and has kids and a car and a house. Sure he has some bad tattoos but you can't see them and there's only a few. He's also the oldest person I've ever brought home with our 8 year age difference. The having kids thing is always a tricky issue but not to me. They're pretty bad ass kids. Maybe it's also a little weird that this is the same event where I introduced Ezra for the first time. Maybe it's the laid back atmosphere and the ability to roam the land that makes it a good setting for introductions. We won't be penned up. I'm rambling. I'm nervous.

Enjoy your weekend.

Laugh, don't cry. I know she'd want it that way.

When you have a good date, you know it. Last night was k-rad to the max, fool.

That just sounded ridiculous didn't it? I'm embarrassed.

Last night, I had a hot date. We went to a mother-truckign FUNERAL!! Isn't that terrible? We encorporated the phrase "we're bad people" into every conversation about everything at any moment because we ARE bad people! We had FUN at a funeral! It made me think of all those terrible gothic bumper stickers I might have found amusing in high school. We didn't mean to put the fun in funeral, it just happened. And it was the father of a guy who I find to be so nice and pleasant. Said hello to me every day at work when I was new. So that was the boo part. Boo. Wah.

But before hand, there was hanky panky and joint showering and getting dressed up. We looked good. We really pull off the funeral attire. We were in and out in 5 minutes (what a pathetic display on our part) and then we headed off to get Chinese food. It was damn good (and not just because Bill paid). I saw a little porceline Saki set that I need for my white porceline collection and Bill bought some wacky Samurai statue. We ate food in bed and I happily slurpped noodles from my soup while watching FREAK SHOW! I am totally in LOVE with Primi, the premature baby with the power of pin-point vommiting. Adorable, kissing, snuggable ("I don't have a belly button yet").

I still feel terrible. Especially about all the smiling and snickering we did at the calling hours. I also feel terrible that I wore a red bra and you could see the straps form time to time. I guess I have no respect for the dead. Regardless, I do have respect for Bill, Chinese food, and cartoons in bed. I respect that a lot.

I don't respect the PT Cruiser pinching game though. YOWZA!

Since you've gone I been lost without a trace.

La-La-Lisa
A poem by me, a non-poet and major asshole

La-La-Lisa, oh she's the girl for me!
La-La-Lisa, she as cool as can be!
She left Ohio and me feelin' sad
But you can't spend all day bein' mad
Who could be mad at La-La-Lisa?

La-La-Lisa, she moved oh so far away!
La-La-Lisa must miss Cleveland every day!
Down south being a nurse and such
Now I'll have to drink twice as much
There's no other drunk like La-La-Lisa!

La-La-Lisa, no inhabitions to be found!
La-La-Lisa, she'll wrestle you to the ground!
Knock out the tooth of a large, strong man
Give me a drunken, fake breast exam
So many funny stories 'bout La-La-Lisa!

La-La-Lisa, she went and joined the Force!
La-La-Lisa, she rocks her uniform (of course)!
She may think I can be a big jerk
But I wear my Air Force hoodie to work
Won't you ever come home, La-La-Lisa?

That was more of a catchy tune than a poem. Ta-da!

P.S. I'm super early to work and I'm back in that little relationshipy thing I had going on because I made a list of reasons why I loved the fool in the first place and it put my mind at ease. We have a hot date to go to a funeral tonight. We're bad people. We'll see you in Hell.

Reaching out. Touching me. Touching you.

So I left my man. He put a little too much volume and rage in my ear hole this morning and I had enough! I was at the end of my rope, tying it into a noose and slipping it over my head! And now of course now I can't stop crying, we wouldn't even look at each other, and I'm wearing a scarf that is really stupid but I refuse to take it off because I'm prooving a point. I'm not sure what that is but it has to do with me thinking the scar fis cool and not caring what anyone thinks when in all actuality, I'm not too keen on the scarfas a scarf. Maybe as a headband.

Do you see what I'm doing? Trying to distract myself from how rotten I feel. You get upset about the HORRIBLE events that took place Friday and you vent about them...and I guess you vent to the wrong persona nd it gets around now EVERYONE IS PSYCHO! That was a weird way to end that thought but that's how I'm ending it. PSYCHO! I went to my dude's house last night to watch a flick (I was invited over after I was apologized to because he was PSYCHO just like everyone else) and it was stellar and then it turns to fecal remains once I got to work. Why are all of the men in my life like spoiled dairy products? They were once so delicious and desireable and I thought about them constantly...yum yum yum...and then they go bad and make you throw up and poo like mad. And they smell sour. And you throw them away! BAD DAIRY PRODUCTS ARE DESTROYING MY LIFE.

I'm sad. At least Gilmore is on tonight. Bring it on, Lorelai.

Let me die in your arms.

Does it bother anyone else that John Denver wrote "Annie's Song" (a beautiful, romantic, poetic, not too hippie-ish ballad that many people probably either made babies or cried themselves to sleep listening to in the 1970s) about the wife that he beat the living day lights out of? I mean, I just sat here and listened to the Rivers' Cuomo version of it and practically bawled my brains out and for a split second, I wondered if that song ever came on the radio while he was giving her the ol' one-two-Hawaiian-punch.

I'm pretty sure it was my older sister who first put this thougth into my head. Now it's bugging me and I feel the need to listen to it on repeat and see if I can disect a dead man's brain. Let's be honest, lots of things are bugging me. Lots of people are bugging me. And alcohol...that's bugging the sweet bejesus out of me. You mix rowdy people who work together with alcohol and you end up with people crying, people beating on one another, and me, quitting my job and walking out the door with my head held high for a change. This happened Friday night and I'm still on fire about it. ON FIRE! I gave up on my job AND my man that night and woke up feeling pretty damn alright about it. After awhile you stop being sad and get angry. And the angry person rules the world.

Of course all that joblessness and defiance didn't last at all because Saturdays where work is concerned are just a joke. And not of the knock-knock variety. Someone's always hungover or has a busted car or doesn't show or peels the entire top, truck, and back off a truck driving it under a 10'3" bridge (truck is 13' tall mind you). I believe I even used the phrase "I quit yesterday" several times to make people question why I was dealing with work related issues at all but it didn't matter. I still did my best to keep everyone's heads on. No one likes a headless freak.

Man, I really wish I could tell you the whole story but the whole things get worse and worse by the second. It's like that telephone game you play when you're young. It starts out "Bobby thinks Jamie's cute" and ends up "Your mother's a filthy whore who eats babies" and then people are calling you and screaming before your caffein has kicked in. And for once...truly...I DID NOTHING WRONG! I deserve a medal after this weekend. Shoot. I'm still employed but not happily and I'm still in a relationship but I'm questioning it a lot more these days. At least I'm not getting the goop knocked out of me inspiring someone to write a cheese-ball love song...that is really fucking good.

You fill up my senses like a night in the forest
Like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert, like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses, come fill me again

Come let me love you, let me give my life to you
Let me drown in your laughter, let me die in your arms
Let me lay down beside you, let me always be with you
Come let me love you, come love me again

You fill up my senses like a night in the forest
Like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert, like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses, come fill me again

I lie awake and dream that the fogs rolls in.

Ir's October. Let the daily blogging challenge begin!

Gonna get rowdy. Gonna get a little unruly.

Bad blogger! Bad! And for once, I have tons and tons of garbage to talk about! Every night before I hit the sheets (I've been spending some good quality time sleeping at my house recently), I think about spewing some words out on to this page but it just doesn't happen. Television, pillows, and a stuffed ghost win out. And the topics in my head and just all over the map! Very little of them are about boys which should make you happy since I have recently become an emotional SAP ASS! I promise to catch up tonight if I can. That's a bad promise. I'll TRY to catch up and fill your heads full of rubbish. What I PROMISE is that I am going to blog EVERY DAY in October. Even if I just write SLEAZE-BAG in big letters on the page or post a pciture of me pretending to be a carrot vampire (or a carrot walrus depending on your interpretation). So I say it, so it shall be done.

I can't get what I want prescripted.

General Points of Interest or Disinterest, Depending On Who You Are

1. Little Jen is moving out by the beginning of the month. I believe Tom will be going, too. This will leaving me roommate-less and minus two cats and you know what? I'm pretty OK with that. I've been paid no rent and been able to swing the bills for three people so swinging them for one...who is rarely there...should be utterly possible as long as I stop buying such expensive cheese. I'm looking forward to having the run of the house, along with my 3 children. 3 adults, 5 cats, and a rat? That's pure insanity.

2. I know what I want but I deserve better. What do I do?

3. Season premier of Grey's Anatomy tonight. I'm turning my phone off and not leaving my bed. You mark my words. The premier date has been on my calendar in bright orange letters for DAYS! If Meredith and McDreamy don't get-it-together, all Hell breaks loose.

4. Season premier of American's Next Top Model last night. I had it taped. I'm watching it as soon as I get home if I don't slip into a coma first. I already pegged some bitches and ugly broads when I stole glances at the screen which I should NOT have been doing. I'm a cheater.

5. I think I want to go see Jackass 2 tomorrow. Any takers?

God, this whole thing is really dull. I thought I had a lot to say but I really don't and that's embarrassing. I'm in a foul mood because I got very little sleep. I was fairly certain that if anyone rubbed me the wrong way today, I would have walked right out on my job and never looked back. But then I'd be living in the streets. I wonder how much I'd mind that? I'm not good with cold. Or hunger. I dated/lived with a man who drank too much for far too many years. I was always cleaning up his messes and taking care of him. Why do I feel like I'm starting to get back in that pattern? I am WORTH being nice to! I am WORTH loving! I am NOT around to hide all your beer cans from your children since YOU couldn't because you were an hour and a half late for work! I am girlfriend material not a potential maid. Hmph. There is so much more to this story but I need to let it go for now. It's making me slip into old habits I don't like so much. I just have to remember that there are clean pajamas, pain medication, Pepsi, vegetable soup, a stuffed ghost to snuggle, and lots of television waiting for me at home.

It's not the same as wrapping myself around a hairy (as in his chest and back, certainly not his head), good-smelling dude with a beer belly and watching cartoons and goofing off. That's tops...when everyone is in a good mood and hasn't drank ten times their weight in beer (30+ cans built into a Beer-a-mid on your kitchen table). But maybe I need a break from that to sort of send of a flare in his head (yes, we've digressed to talking about HIM). Do you want me!? Do you REALLY!? Are you missing me when I'm not there!? Are you sober when you're missing me!? The more I've been sleeping at home, the more I've come to the conclusion that his bed isn't as comfortable as I thought.

I might be lying. But don't tell my bed that. It's been good to me.

Gotta get serious. Gotta cram.

Life has been overly serious recently. Way too up and down for my taste. I find myself having to prove myself everywhere I go and that's just not my style. I am who/what I am, take it or leave it. I really don't like having to defend myself or make people understand where I'm coming from. Especially to people who have NO IDEA what my life or job are like, people who I don't exactly respect that much anymore. It's hard to bust ass for and be enthusiastic about people who aren't holding in high regard these days. I guess I just have to suck it up for now until I figure out what the smart thing to do with be.

A lot of this has to do with my career path, to be honest. My parents made the very generous offer to help me go back to school...even to grad school if that's what I wanted. I could rpobably go to Cosmetology school...whatever will make me happy. I think I'm a different person now than when I was an undergraduate. I have more of a drive and more ambition and just more of a general desire to learn and do well and be more. At this moment in time, I have nothing to prove to anyone where school is concerned. I would only have to prove something to msyelf. That I could get those kick ass grades, graduate with honors, get through it without losing my marbles. It's a lot to think about. Lots of decisions have to be made and I'll need a lot of support and back-up. Bill promised to do strip flashcards with me which was pretty sweet in a perverted way.

And while on this work and school rollercoaster, I've taken a detour regarding my relationship. My man has been hard to handle recently. Up and down. Up and down. And that gets to me. He is the one that can hurt me worse than anyone else. Finally I stuck up for myself and for one whole hour, I unloaded on him. Told him EVERYTHING I had to say about how I am treated. I am WORTH being nice to. I am WORTH keeping around. I am NOT going to be walked all over. I did this for a whole hour and put his listening skills to the test yesterday when we mixed an evening out with alcohol.

Everything was nice and friendly and kissy and what not and then it hit that peak where I said or did SOMETHING to rub him the wrong way. Instead of begging him to be nice or asking him what was wrong, I got quiet. Still enjoyed my evening, still talked to him but didn't lavish him in attention. That must have bigged him because then a lightbulb went off telling him that he was being a dork. He apologized and our night ended up being a nice night out. I let him vent on the drive home about anything he needs to. I said I needed someone to lean on and wanted to prove that he has that in me. If the night ends watching cartoons and drafting in the bed, I consider it a success.

I've been a bum today. Lots of sleeping and Netflix and that's A-OK for me. I haven't been in the best physical or mental shape recently and I haven't had much support (except for Phoebe...she's been the bomb...DA BOMB). Spending this day snoozing and resting and only doing what I wanted to and not having too much to worry about (things are good with Bill, I'm in a good place regarding work bullshit because I can only do what I can do, I refuse to LIVE my job, I've started to straighten up the joint in preparation to be livin' single) has been a nice change. And I get to have fondue with Phoebe tomorrow! It's nice to have a treat to look forward to.

Encough of this. My bed misses me and wants me to stop raving.

But nothing can change the way I feel today.

EMO ALERT! Put up your trendy umbrellas so you don't ruin that dramatic emo haircut of yours because there is a little, black, bastard of a rain cloud bugging the sweet bejesus out of me. Yes, ladies and germs, I am in a bear of a mood yet again! Weeeeee! I've been using the good old "I've got allergies" or "There's something in my eye" excuse all the live long day but that doesn't explain why I have lips like Angelina Jolie and I'm all red and blotchy. I wish I could just throw up on someone. Preferably a small child or a member of the elderly population. That would perk me up, no doubt. Though I did throw up on a tree in my back yard this week and that pretty much added to my depression.

Yes, I'm riding the "d" train and I'm buying stock in tissues.

I really don't feel like going in to all the bloody, gutty, nasty, slimy, gorey, stanky details. Because overall, I had a Helluva weekend with a pretty gnarly Pussyfoot show at the Wakeman airport and some camping with my fella in Sandusky (the baked potatos were hard as bricks but the corn-on-the-cob was da bomb, as the kids like to say). We even had a pretty k-rad bonfire on Sunday night...80% k-rad and 20% suck-ass. It had such potential to be a bonafide rocker of a weekend, and I'm not saying it was all based on the late-night brawl. There were all kinds of elements adding to my fury. I spent my Monday vacation from work in my bed on Vicodin, watching Project Runway season 2 and loathing all.

I'm feeling all lonely again and it's lonliness that I find to be the most rotten annoyance in my life. And once again, this is NOT just based on the man in my life. I'm all kinds of lonely. And I feel like nothing I do is good enough for ANYONE. There must be something going around at my house because Jen caught this moody, self-pitying bug and now I have it. I don't say the right things. I don't do the right things. I can't make anyone happy. I'm not worth being around or being included. I don't deserve to be nice to. I don't try hard enough. I can't pull anything off. There's so many more "I don't" or "I can't" that I could boo-hoo and wah-wah about but I really don't want to relive this days from now when I'm (hopefully) all smiles and laughs again.

But for now...pass the Kleenex please.

We gonna play until you feel happy so come on.

I am a mother to a brand new baby grill. We named her Shannon Sheppard.

I haven't been bl-l-l-l-l-logging since there's not too much to report. I've pretty much been a working, drinking, sleeping bum. And I'm cool with that. But I live to entertain you and I feel I'm letting you down. I'll step up to the plate and serve it up once my life holds more than drinking beer, watching Project Runway, and goofy bullshit activities with Bill (like buying adorable little grills and naming them Shannon).

Man, I've been quite the little pervert at work today. Shame on me.

If you're bored on Saturday or just looking for something out of the norm to do (cause poking your crippled Grandma with various sharp objects is getting old and cruel), why not come see The Pussyfoot Girls at the Rockin' Rod Rumble at Wakeman Airport? There will be bands...Slack Jawed Yokels, Devilbillys, and more...hot cars and hot chicks! Not just with us shakin' our tail feathers in your grandpa's face. There's gonna be a pin-up girl contest as well!!! Smack my ass and call me mommy, this is going to be a good time. Possibly because I MAY or may NOT be dressed up as a rat. You'll just have to come out and see.

Clocking in from 9 to 5.
At the bar from 5 to 9.
Go home, watch TV 'til you're blinded.
3 good ways to waste your mind.
And you don't mind it.

Get a check on Friday but it's already spent.

Got my bill from the big, bad, Athsma emergency room visit. Not pretty. Pretty effed.

Started off the long weekend right (and right in the middle of the week, mind you) with a Wednesday night of beer swillin', clothes warshin', and Project Runwayin' (hit the road, Angela, like you should have WEEKS ago with your pooooofy skirts and "flurshonds"). I could have used more sleep. I could have done without getting a visit from My Girl Flo in the morning...at least it signifies no visit from the stork!

Followed that up last night with my first trip to Browns Stadium. Sure they lost but a guy threw up on the field and some little kids played at half time and I got to see them fall down and become injured. Pretty sweet is the pain of small athlectic children. It was fun for my first game, regardless of knowing nothing about football. Bill invited my nephew and his girlfriend along and we all traded injury and surgical stories on the ride home. It was mildly graphic and highly hysterical.

Tonight I have a hot and fancy date to go on a rush hour booze cruise type deal around downtown with my fella. But it's looking pretty grim and grey in these Cleveland skies. And it's COLD! Brrrrrr! I'm wondering if the two of us will trade drinking icy cold beers on a boat on the river in the rain and windy weather for wrapping ourselves in blankets and hoodies and vegging, catching up on much needed sleep and "drafting". Beers won't seem as cold in that location! But we have been looking forward to this so maybe we'll be daredevils. We'll see what card Mother Nature deals us later.

Saturday is a veg day. Bill has his kids so I'm on my own. I'll be sleeping, watching my new Project Runway box sets, doing laundry, cleaning my room, maybe havign lunch with Phoebe, and hanging with Carol (FINALLY! I'm going through withdrawl...see the shakes?!?) at night. Maybe a movie. Maybe food. Maybe a bar. Maybe...Saturday will kick some major ass! Actually, I can guarantee that. No maybe.

And then we have Sunday and Monday. Possibly there will be some camping! Realistically, it will end up being me and Bill in his yard having a fire, cooking out, watching the race, drinking beers, and chilling out. It's all a matter of location...home or abroad. I'll be happy with either. I'll be slap happy not to be at work!!! Weeeeeeee! So he's planned a pretty kickin' few days for us. Not sure if he's still kissing ass or just enjoying my rockin' company. It's good stuff though. Good stuff.

Enjoy your Labor Day, y'all!

You really think you're in control?

IT'S FRIDAY I'M IN LOVE
1. Phoebe quit her job at Shamrock. Gave a few weeks notice. No one seemed to mind too much besides me. Lots of stress is now resting on my shoulders. It went from a 4 man operation to one...me. I am the operation. I am my deparment. Taking the rest of my vacation days this week or in two weeks just to enjoy myself before I become "the boss". Good luck with your new gig, Phoebe.

2. Car got detailed. I don't think people you're paying $125 to do a specific job should blatantly make fun or you, your car, and your lifestyle choices to your face. Despite the great job they did on making all the sludge in my car disappear, I wouldn't recommend them to anyone. They were strangers, not friends, so how dare they tell me what to do with my possessions or how to live my life? Fuck 'em.

3. Curled up in my bed after work. Watched "She's the Man" which arrived from Netflix and crashed, hardcore. I decided today that I think I'm depressed or at least getting into that rut of "having the blues". Not feeling like myself and certainly not liking it. Woke up to a late night phone call which had me driving Betty Blue to Garfield for the last time. I needed to draft and be drafter but I'm not even sure it helped that much. It helped to find out I'm getting a FAT raise, regardless of not getting a replacement for Phoebe. When I say FAT, I mean PH-PH-PHAT! I love money. I'm American.

SATURDAY IS ALRIGHT FOR FIGHTING
1. Remember when I said the future was a Honda CRV? I lied. It's a black Toyota Rav4 and it's hot. Since it's big and black, I thought about naming it Earl after my big, black friend. But is that offensive? The Early Mobile has a nice ring to it. Early is the character I like on Squidbillies, too, so it COULD have a double meaning...but won't. Anyway, I love my car and would love to take y'all in a ride for it. But no smoking! And no mucky feet! And no puking into plastic bags! And for CRYING OUT LOUD, no spilling!!!

2. Got all gussied up and took my new wheels on out to Strongsville to be little Benny's date to his mom's wedding. I was there over an hour before he was (I guess I was poorly informed of the time) so I left for a while. Ended up with heart burn, a bad attitude and an emergency (see SATURDAY #3) so I never made it back to the reception. I'm sure he's mad but the whole point of my going was to be the designated driver but he drove his OWN TRUCK. How was that going to work? I didn't need to be there other than to be a show piece. A tall drink of water, if you will. So I didn't go back.

3. When a friend doesn't show up for a particular event, doesn't call anybody, doesn't come to pick someone up when she's supposed to, her garage is wide open, her car doors are unlocked, her dead bolt which is NEVER locked IS, her dog is inside, and her son is supposed to be picked up at 11:00p, you assume she's inside and you assume bad things. She must have received about 50 phone calls from concerned parties not to mention me and Bill banging on her door, honking horns, and trying to bust windows with the help of neighbors. When a person is 5 hours late to pick you up for a party and doesn't answer the cell phone, you panic. You call a locksmith. You worry that she's hurt inside. And in the end, when she IS inside but won't let any of the concerned parties in to see her, well, it doesn't all add up.

So my Saturday ended up with no wedding reception, no co-worker party, no beer during the race and no bonfire. Sure, I did get a new car AND won the NASCAR pool (GO KENSETH!!!) but overall, Saturday was as much of a wash as Friday.

SUNDAY BLOODY SUNDAY
1. Wanted to show my mom the new ride and was invited to tea with my sisters and nieces. Guess they had this whole day planned for quite awhile and I probably wouldn't have been invited if I had called when I did. Maybe it's because I don't have kids and it was like an end of summer/back to school thing. But I'll probably never have kids so will I always be left out of things? It sort of just rubs in my face the fact that I don't have a family. Sure, I have "a family", but when my parents are gone and my sisters have their husbands and kids and "families", I'll most likely just be me. When I was married even, Ezra said we wouldn't be a family until we had kids. I didn't even have a shot to have a family of my own.

2. I felt kind of stupid for being there today. I was pretty quiet. I hope I didn't come across as rude. I just really felt awkward. Other things happened besides the last minute invite thing to dampen my mood but I'll probably just keep those to myself. Let's just say I felt slightly ashamed and embarrassed and the worst part is, I wasn't even surprized about it. I'm actually starting to believe that I really can't do anything right. I got a raise and a slight (if somewhat by default) promotion this weekend and I feel more like a failure than ever.

3. Bill is out and about with his Dad doing God knows what. I'm here at home feeling lousy. He said he'll call when he's done. I don't know if I'm sleeping here or there or what's going. Such is life living out of an overnight bag. Part of me seriously wants to go to bed right now and call it a day because I know my quiet disposition and thoughfulness and "blues" will just be aggravating because I can't explain it all without sounding pathetic or like a broken record. I don't want anything I'm feeling bad about to be related to Bill in any way. But if I stay here, I don't stay with him and then I could end up feeling just as horrible...am I not going because I REALLY feel THIS bad or am I not going just to make myself feel worse? I've never actually chosen to NOT stay there. I think no matter where I am sleeping today, I'll probably cry.

MONDAY, MONDAY
1. I hope...

2. ...that I...

3. ...can survive.

Any other car, you'd just be wastin' your time.

I've had 3 stickers in my work cubicle that I bought at Heavy Rebel 2005 that have been just waiting to get on the back window of a new car. Well, 2 out of 3 (I'm sort of over my "True Necromance" sticker) are going to finally have a home!

I'm going to be roll roll rollin' in style as of this Saturday! It's sad that little Betty Blue Corolla is going to the car graveyard because we've had a good run. Lots of memories were made in the car...none of the X-rated variety, perverts. I wish I could count how many times Johnny passed out in it after nights out in Kent. Or how many times I tossed my cookies into plastic bags. Or how many songs I've sang at the top of my tone-deaf lungs. But sadly, I can't. That car took me through my relationship with a musician and therefore all over the United States. It took me through my happy marriage and bitter divorce. It's seem many friends come and go. It's been beat up and it's been loved. It was a good car but it's slowly dying. It's time to let go of the past and move on to the future.

And the future is a Honda CRV.

I asked Phoebe's help in naming the new ride with the strict instructions that it could not be named after a dead rabbit in a box that was transported over the Rockies. Or a cremated rabbit in a tin can. Naming a car is important. I remember when my old pal MVO and I named our cars Ruby 626 and Teal Tercel. She had a CRV. A black one and it was such a damn cool car. Sure, I don't have to pull horse trailer or cart hay around but I'm sure I can fill it up full of junk. I'm good at that. My current mode of transportation smells like there's a dead body hiding in it somewhere. And there very well could be. Good thing it's getting detailed tomorrow. Regardless, it's going to take me the rest of my life to pay this sucker off but in a way, that's fulfilling. It's going to be mine. And I'm going to love it.

Suggestions for car names are welcome.

Johnny already asked to borrow it for his next hot date. I said no because he called the "The CLR". He thinks the 1996 Nissan Altima will be more of a chick magnet any way. We may have to put some money on this. I like to gamble.

Outside of my orgasmic automobile excitement, I have a secret date next Friday. I'm not good with surprizes as it drives me nuts not knowing what's in store for me! But it IS cute that my fella has something planned for us. I have to leave work a little early and wear something specific, though I don't know what that is yet. Whatever it is that we're doing, it's taking place downtown and it is NOT a football game. Hmmmm. I'm pretty open to whatever...I like having future plans with Bill. Future plans are reassuring.

And for any one who cares, we had a lengthy chat on Monday where everything regarding his bad behavior was explained to me, I was apologized to (not just in an "I'm sorry" fashion but WHY he is sorry), and reassured that we are starting fresh. He even reintroduced himself to me. We've spent a few nights apart and I feel better. He knows this is his last shot to treat me how I deserve to be and that he's getting a spiked heel up the rear and out the door if he fails. So...it's still on, this thing we're doing. We're in the running for 6 months.

Phoebe just said the words/terms 'engorged', 'soft tissue', "wriggling your fingers', 'stimulation', 'vibrator', and 'the clitoris reemerges from under the hood'. What a perv. We are TOTALLY at work right now. Sweet.

You knew you had yourself a ball.

Today is my first day of bringing my lunch to work. I'm doing it to save money and in all actuality, the sandwich I made and chips I packed taste better than anything I could have picked up from a drive-through. Corners need to be cut and I'm doing my best to cut them. Got a few bills paid off (in full!) and hopefully by tomorrow night, I'll be pretty much caught up and we won't have to worry about sitting around in the dark or taking cold showers. Have I mentioned how much I HATE being an adult?

So I didn't take an extra vacation day today as you may have noticed. I knew I would just be way too behind if I did. I returned to a mountain of paperwork and a bazillion copies to make and things to do. I don't blame Phoebe. I'm sure she was up to her eyesockets in work and made it as easy for me as possible to transition back into the swing of things. I won't lie, I miss my bed and my sleeping aides and my television. But I didn't spend all of my down time snoozing. I met up with Bill Friday night (with hesitations) and we went to watch the football game at his sisters house. I was still tired, a little shaky, and a bit wary. I was sizing him up the whole evening. Evaluating his behavior. He even looked at me once and said, "I really have to kiss ass, don't I?". I'm not holding things over his head or guilt tripping him. I'm just trying to figure out what's best for ME for a change because I like me and think I deserve good things. Like season 6 of Gilmore Girls and a boy who doesn't fight with me in public. Is that too much to ask??

Saturday was semi-productive! Sure, I slept until 2:00p (everyone should do that from time to time) but then I stocked my fridge and cupboards, made homemade cheese potato soup, straightened up my digs, watched movies and drank Bloody Marys with the roomies. I couldn't sleep so well and was combing the internet until about 5:00a but it was suggested that I was squirrely because I wasn't sleeping next to my fella. He suggested it. He is soooo buttering me up but I'm still watching him like a hawk. So that was Saturday. Not an award winner but still pretty fulfilling.

And yesterday...well, Sundays are always dull since Becky moved. I watched multiple episodes of My Super Sweet 16 with Tom...he was a little over anxious to be watching it. I'm thinking he wants to be a wealthy 16 year old girl. I folded clothes, ate ice cream, and vegged. Finally took a shower. Ended up at Bill's for some shut eye. He knows I'm still mad but I think he appreciates that I haven't completely written him off. I think he MIGHT finally get the fact that you can't take advantage of the people who care about you. You should instead count yourslef lucky and try to give back what you get. I think he MIGHT be starting to see how lucky he is. I love that guy, it's true. But I can't do all the work. I shouldn't have to. We're supposed to "have a chat" later. I'm going to say everything I should have been saying all along. And hopefully he'll be listening.

Today, my calendar sayd "Stay awat from any man who shaves his legs on a regualr basis". Keep that in mind, ladies!

Scars only show when someone talks to you.

If these thoughts are random, forgive me. I've pretty much been sleeping for 30hours straight, only getting up to refill my cranberry juice glass and answer the multitudes of text messages I've recieved. I was off work yesterday and off again today and believe me, these days couldn't come soon enough. Let me explain WHY I needed this mini-vacation sleep-a-thon so badly.

First off, I'm currently up to my eyeballs in debt. Jen hasn't had a job steady enough to start paying me rent and Tommy hasn't totally moved in yet so I can't expect him to shell out cash when he doesn't QUITE live here. So the hole Phoebe left financially hasn't been filled yet and I didn't squirrle away any nuts for winter. I'll be honest. I'm behind in the bills which makes me feel like a failure. And asking my best friend for a loan makes me feel like a toad. She said yes because all people need a little help sometimes but my tail is placed prominantly between my legs at the current time.

Secondly, there's the big fight with my fella that took place in front of LOTS of our employees Wednesday night. He thinks he heard someone say somethign that wasn't true about me and a friend of his and would NOT believe my side of the story. I was BEGGING him to listen and he had no interest. He was cold and cruel and I was heartbroken. His guys took me over to his house because they were on MY SIDE. They wanted things straightened out. He let me in the house but didn't really let me talk. For the record, what he accussed me off, I didn't do. Simple as that. I did, however, throw his cell phone out the door which made him explode like a volcano (it was HIS idea for me to do it). But I found the pieces and put it back together and it works. But then...

...I stopped working. I had a horrible Athsma attack that was brought on by panic. After coming to the conclusion that I wasn't going to breathe on my own, I emerged from the bathroom to find that he had locked up the house and gone to bed. Phoebe was my savior. She came and rescued me, took me to the hospital where I got an IV and an aerosol treatment (they wanted to give me 2...NO WAY!) and then I busted free. I found my car keys in Bill's door waiting for me. I came home, got in to bed, and have been here ever since. But that is not where things between me and my marshmallow would end.

Third, he called at 6:22a yesterday, mere hours after I had been released from the emergency room. It must have hit him that he crossed the line this time. Embarrassed me...and himself...in front of co-workers. Yelled at me. Said horrible things to me. Treated me like I was a worthless nobody. I felt like I was reliving my college relationship. Groveling and begging and showing no signs of dignity or pride. Rumors has it his guys got on him at work for how he treated me. He should have been there with me, eventhough I didn't want him near me because I was in pain emotionaly and physically and held him responsible. But he was at home, sleeping like his life was just perfect.

He said that he called to see if I was alright. I said I wasn't and he said he wasn't either. For once, I just let him feel bad. I didn't worry about hanging up the phone without things resolved because my heart hurts. And it seems to be hurting a lot lately. The only thing he said that made me flinch a little was that he doesn't want to lose me. He said that he was an idiot and recognized how badly I was treated and for absolutly no reason. And I'm glad he knows that...but how many times can I have to patch things up? All I wanted was to go out with him and have fun. And when that went south, all I wanted was 2 minutes to explain how I feel about him an dthe lengths that I will (and do) go. He couldn't give me that either.

Today is 5 months of...whatever this is that we're doing. Anyone close to me knows that it's actually been going on much longer but 5 months is the marker from when we slapped the lable of "dating" on it. So it's 5 months today and I have no idea where we stand. He told me to take time to think, which I've been doing in between sleeping and watching episodes of American Dreams. I know what I want...I want him. I'd give up having kids, getting married again...for him. I know that. THAt is what I want. But is that the best thing to do? Probably not. But he is who I gave my heart to and I just wish he'd treat it a little better.

Sorry for rambling. I'm just in a sad and lonley place and need to vent.

This medicine is killin' me!

Go ahead. Tear me a new one...that's what the kids are saying these days. I've been missing in action, and believe me, there's been action! Think I'm being saucy? Nah, I've just been busy. I hate going this long without filling your brains full of rubbish but it happens. So here's a healthy dose of my brand of genius that I will entitle "10 Things You Didn't Even Realize You Couldn't Live Without Knowing About My Life: Autobiographical". Enjoy suckers!

1. My back hurts. Big time. I've been enjoying a Vicodin and Pepsi cocktail 2 or 3 times a week recently. This is not good. I hate having to shut my brain off to numb the pain. But sadly, that's what I've been doing. But I was assured that there's a Baby Oil back rub in my future. I can dig that. I can't dig this pain though. Huey Lewis needs to write a song for me called "I Want a New Back"...cause it's true.

2. The 48 on Bill's garage door is done. I like it. I hate Jimmie Johnson though.

3. A majority of the week was spent planning and preparing for the Slumber Party Massacre in honor of Jen's birthday. Horror of 59 and Chesty Deathrattle performed. A hole had to be beaten into my attic door to free the thirsty kittens. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I want to cry when I see it now. Boo. But the party was a smashing success, regardless of whether or not I announce that there will be no more parties. I'm always bluffing. I like to party. I especially like drama free parties where everyone has a great time (including Bill) and I get to try and fall in lust with BLOODY MARYS!! And I LOVE parties where I don't have to clean up! Weeeeeeeeee.

4. Drinking Tequilla from the bottle is never a good idea though. It makes for a rough Sunday. One of those ones where I only left Bill's bed for a collective total of maybe 12 minutes tops. He cooked me chicken on the grill, let me eat his peas, and kept my Pepsi glass topped off. We slept the whole day away and once the room stopped spinning, I didn't mind being a lazy bum. Oh, there was nudity, too. *blush*

5. Yesterday was the PITS at work. PITS! Phoebe couldn't come in so I was up to my eyeballs in shit and you do not want shit that close to your eyeballs. It's not healthy. And according to my mother, you don't want to cry at work.

6. So go out and have a cocktail insetad! Or in my case, you have a Bloody Mary, 2 tall drafts, and 2 High Lifes with your co-workers. You think about ordering food but you don't. You talk and goof off and have fun and let the weight of the day slip off your shoulders and into your liver. And even when your fella is being crabby (and it was understandable) and didn't want you to sleep over (and you didn't want to because you didn't want to catch his grumpiness), you roll with it. It was nice that he called later to apologize for rubbing his nasty attitude in my face but when his snappiness made a reappearance, I let him off the phone and DIDN'T call back (usually I call back...I hate to leave things hanging at night...I need to go to bed getting along). Instead, I let him sleep with his bad mood at his house and I watched cartoons in my bed..my BED, not the couch...in a Vicodin enduced haze! Oh la la!

7. And don't worry, Bill was in a better, marshmallowy mood and we spent or lunch break together where he told me he wanted to take me somewhere on Friday if I wasn't leaving for the race (see #8). He's taking me to a football game! May not sound exciting to YOU but I've never been to a game so I think it's really cute that he's taking me. I hope I can wear a hoodie. And drink beer. Do yoou hear this, Becky?!?! I'm going to a football game! TOUCH DOWN!

8. I need a break from my life so I've (semi)decided to use vacation days Friday and Monday from work and go to Michigan International Speedway to watch the race, camping in the infield again. I was so dead set on it yesterday and now I'm iffy. I'm thinking that hanging around my house, lounging, watching movies, cooking food, running errands, straightening up, napping, etc., might be more beneifical to my mental state than driving to Michigan and spending money I don't have. There's also the Hot Rod Hula Hop in Columbus. So many options. All I know is that Friday and Monday, I'm on mini-vay-cay and I can't wait. Maybe I'll give myself a mani/pedi and take a bubble bath. And maybe I won't get out of my pajamas at ALL. Even to get the DVR fixed! God bless vacation days!

9. I need a nap. I see episodes of "American Dreams", a tall glass of Pepsi, and the couch in my future. Doesn't that just sound heavenly?

10. When Jamie and I get hitched, I'm going to say we're McMarried...or McMurried.

VIVA!!!

Pay attention to me. I don't talk for my health.

My crush on Jamie McMurray is out of control. I'm all sweaty over it.

I think I'm started to become jaded and somewhat of a serial crab. Work is killing me. Money is killing me. A certain fella is killing me. Pussyfootin' is killing me. Party planning is killing me. Not having clean knickers is killing me. Living out of an overnight bag is killing me (but not sleeping with my marshmallow kills me in a worse fashion). I'm snapping heads off left and right and I just have a really blah attitude about everything and I hate feeling like that. All I want is a weekend in a nice hotel with a really plush bed a la our Heavy Rebel Hotel. I don't want to have to drive anywhere or plan anything or clean anything or sweat or stress. I want to watch pay-per-view movies, order room service, have cocktails, take a whirlpool bath, MAYBE swim in a pool or hang in a hot tub, and sleep with the air conditioning on and the shades pulled tight. That scenario isn't anywhere on my future schedule.

I thought an escape to Columbus would recharge my batteries but a work disaster sort of screwed that all up for me. Yes, I had a fantastic time with Becky, Tim and Porkchop (formerly known as Johnny Switchblade). After hours of verbal catching up, we had a rad dinner where I was introduced to Bellinis! Oh sweet Bellinis! Pitcher after pitcher going straight to my head. Heavenly. After a quick cat nap, we resumed an evening of drinking, game playing, chatting, and goofing off. But this entire trip took place after Bill and I stayed up from midnight to 3:00a trying to resolve scheduling issues at work. It was a BAD scene! Both of our heads were ready to roll right off and that is NOT what I wanted after seeing (and loving) Talladega Nights at the drive-in. It made us both stressed and crabby and we slept on separate sides of the bed. Boo. I left my home away from home in a sad state. And work issues just piled up like dead bodies! I took calls in the shower. I took calls on the can. I took calls in the car. I took calls at dinner. I took calls while hanigng out. I even took a call right before bed. I was cursing work. I wasn't even getting paid and I wasn't able to fully enjoy myself. Rot. Rot. Kill. Blather. Blech.

On the drive home, I DID stop at the most AMAZING gas station on the way home. God only knows how I've been existing without it. Exit #186 off of I-71 N. Please go. It will blow your mind. I thought I was in heaven. I could have dropped a few hundred bucks there. I could have spent my whole afternoon there if it was free to spend. Please go there. Have your mind blown. Thank me later.

My Sunday was spent with the good ol' family. We played miniature golf in the burning hot sun and then had a delicious Italian dinner. I had a nice time with my sisters and my parents and I seemed to work out a TOTALLY reasonable deal regarding a new car (which I NEED as I am actually fearing for my life in this death trap...I loved you Betty Blue. Together, we saw 21 of the 50 states..OK, so you didn't go to Nevada. Stop being selfish). But I was still stressed from all the weekend work bullshit. It was the worst work experience of my life. It wrecked my weekend. But luckily, it was all capped off in Bill's bed, trying to sleep off the weekend. Like I've said, drafting solves most problems.

Now it's a new week. I finished (for the most part) the 48 and a drunken Bill (and we're not even going to go there regarding him being drunk and me being alone, painting in the heat all day when I should have been drinking tall boys) was appreciative. He said it was beautiful. He may feel different today. I woke up with a bad attitude but the hoodie Phoebe got me that reads "Robots Make Better Boyfriends" brings me joy. It fits like a glove. I'm going to see mi familia for a bigger family gathering after work and then doing some pre-party shopping with Jen. Those things don't suck (though cleaning the house for the party does). Plus, I lost a few pounds and who doesn't love that? PLUS plus, Ben and Lisa's weird puppetry has inspired me to do a solo PFG dance to "Tastes Like Poison". I love the Drags. It's going to be sweet-ass sassafras.

Maybe I wouldn't be so cranky if I could just poop at work. Le sigh.