She's walking 'round wearing all of my clothes.

I'm almost positive I just called a customer and said, "This is Lacey wearing JC Penney's delivery service". I didn't even try to recover from that oops. I just rolled with it. I'll never see those people. They should just be happy that they got their time frame and their furniture is coming. That's what I say.

Bill told me that if I call him 'Jerome' in the heat of passion, I'll never see him again. I'm going to test this theory tonight after our hot date because that's just the most backwards reason I've ever heard to stop speaking to someone. But he's a little nutty in the skull. I think it's due to that crazy, moveable bump he has on the back of his head. If I touch it, he pretends to pass out. It entertains me for minutes on end.

As I've previously stated, I have a hot date tonight. Alright, maybe it's not hot but it's certainly cute. A cute date, if you will. We've rescheduled our dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe for tonight. He's paying so I'm eating! Sure, we have a half off coupon but that's not the point. We're going out somewhere different and I'm having a frosty and delicious cocktail to kick off my weekend. We're going to hit the Gap because we're devoted to Gap denim (let's hear it for the slim/skinny fit and their denim skirts) and then we're going to park somewhere down by the water and take it from there. And then of course, naked time (see above paragraph)!! No one is getting "icky" because we both have to work tomorrow and the day only gets longer form there.

The rumors are true...every year my family celebrates the hot dog and our annual Weiner Night takes place tomorrow. My dad boils my hot dogs because I'm a precious pooch. I wish my day stopped there because I always drag after Saturday shifts and I have no time to drag because I have no clean knickers! Laundry is a MUST! And then, of course because it's Saturday, I have a Pussyfoot show at the Beachland. It's a Capgun Cowboy's reunion show so I know I'll hear "My One Desire" and Bob's Country Bunker is playing and they're always alot of fun. So WHY am I NOT excited?! Why am I looking at this show like a burden?! Why do I have my grumpy-puss on?!

I think I'm just burnt out. We had 3 shows this month and it was a lot of work just to get people together to practice. Then there's set lists and music preparation and costumes and a photo shoot. I'm tired of the grunt work. Do I have my shoes? My clothes? My tights? How should I do my hair? How does this song go again? Shoot I forget this! I need another drink! I'm going to be late! And so on and so forth. I'm tired of a majority of our songs, I'm not sure I have enough creativity left to contribute anything to new songs, I want new merchandise, I want to get into new venues or at LEAST somewhere other than the SAME one we ALWAYS go to. GRRRRR!!!

People think this is just goofball fun (and it's some of the MOST fun I've had in my life) but it's a lot of work. A lot of planning, a lot of compromising, a lot of collaboration. Some things need to happen to spice up the set and I don't think that can happen until there's a teeny weenie break for my brain...and some of the other girls are in my sinking boat, I think. I don't want to officially become Sucky Sourpuss, you know? I'm just going to put my best paw forward and be happy when we're done with our set and I can kick back. I wish Becky would be tehre to ease my brain. I'd dance my pants off for her but alas, we're two ships passing in the night...or so Barry Manilow says.

I'll be seriously kicking back on Sunday at HIBACHI!!! We're going to celebrate my little Jenny Penny's birthday and nothing calms my nerves like friends, fun, and ginger.

Engines pumping and thumping in time.

I am not going to let the fact that I have a sore throat and an earache bring me down. I'm not going to be disappointed that all my yummy chicken from Champps is gone. I'm not even going to get irritated over the fact that my fella barely said two peeps to me before we hit the sack last night (he's also rocking an earache). My charlie horse isn't even beating me. Do you want to know why I've decided to put on a happy face? You bet you do!

Jamie McMurray is paying himself in Talladega Nights!!! Weeeeeeeeeeee!

I hollered, "Lordy Lordy, have a mercy on me".

I hate stress and I am ultimately stressed out. As I texted Johnny last night, "My life is really not turning out the way I planned". I'm stressed about my work life. I'm stressed about my home life. And of course, I'm stresed about money, or the gigantic lack of it that is currently hanging over my head. Right now, my stomach is pretty much alternating between growling and being in knots. I hate having a knotty stomach, especially since I have knots in my back from sleeping on the couch (I left the bed in a fit of rage after being treated like a sucker for the one millionth time this week...I'm beginning to believe that I AM a sucker). My moods are all over the damn place like ants on cookie crumbs these days.

Saturday was the dragway show and we camped in what resembled swamp lands. I had a nice ring around my ankles that separated cleanliness from muck. My parents enjoyed the Pussyfoot Girls though I was informed that I drink too much, and I probably do. I'm getting sick of a lot of our material and I'll be happy to have a break after our show with the Cap Gun Cowboys and Bob's Country Bunker this weekend. Regardless, Saturday was good...until my fella got toasted and basically made himself out to be a raving assface in front of my friends AND strangers. He doesn't remember how badly he behaved and everyone accepted our apologies (thank GOD) but I still feel...a little humiliated. Everyone gets drunk and does retarded things. We've all been there. It happens. I just really didn't need it to happen during a weekend I was looking forward to and wanted to enjoy.

I decided to let it roll off my back and we spent the entire Sunday in bed. We ate ribs, watched the race, napped. I was a complete and total bum and that was fine by me. After sleeping on the cold, hard ground with a chip on my shoulder, it felt amazing to be in the cushy bed, drafting my platypus (he's morphed from being my marshmallow to being my platypus...not sure how that happened). We have a hot dinner date at the Hard Rock tomorrow night. AND we made plans to go do something together, just the two of us, for a weekend before the summer is over which made me feel all warm and gooshy inside. But the gooshiness didn't last. And WHY didn't it last? BECAUSE OF ALCOHOL! Hence why I ended up on the couch and am currently having an awkward day at work. Yes, I forgave. Yes, I'm sure I'll forget. But right now...I'm salty. I have sand in my vagina. And I'm sad.

Dinner and a movie with Johnny will probably help occupy my mind a bit.

All right, I promise, no more after this.

I hope I never get "the gout". No one is taking booze-n-salt away from me!

Ready for a really boring rant? Work is slow. Slow, slow, slow, slow. I feel like worms are eating my brains. Actually, that particular image is sort of making me feel squirmy in the tummy. I don't like worms, even for fishing. They are one of the few things that genuinely freak me out from head to toe. My ex-husband once offered to eat a worm while we were gardening together. Yes, we gardened together and grew 8,000 tomatos. Regardless, I hate worms so let's just say I feel more like a fuzzy blanket of mold is growing on my brain. I need a nap or something to do to occupy some of my time here. I am not very good at trying to look busy and everyone knows I'm NOT busy because work is sloooooow. Boo.

Poison was a rockin' good time last night. I got all kinds of hugged and kissed and held during "Every Rose Has It's Thorn" as well as during "I Won't Forget You". They played nothing but hits so I was nothing but jazzed. I even made a phone call to Texas during "Talk Dirty To Me". I can still see Lisa rolling around on her living room floor suggesting a leap-frog maneuver if we chose that jam to be a Pussyfoot song. It was really rad of Jen to share her tickets with me and William. It gave us something to do besides beer bongs and keg stands. Really...do we look like a frat boy and sorority girl to you? We're a hillbilly and common trash for cryin' out loud!

So the night was a success and hopefully that will carry over into the big weekend we have planned. I suspect tomorrow night will include beer. Maybe shopping. Maybe painting. Who knows? I could end up on my couch watching season one of American Dreams in my pajamas. And I wouldn't totally flip my lid if that's what I wound up doing. It's pay day so I can stock my fridge and I could use some rest before my big Saturday. Pussyfoot Girls are playing the Rock-n-Race at historic Dragway 42 in West Salem, as I've previously rambled about. I have to be up and groomed pretty early (after I hit a doctor's appointment...blech), pick up Bill, get to Carol's, load up, and hit the road in time to check out the vendors, swap meet, racing, and enjoy a few bevvies before strutin' my stuff. It's BYOB and we're camping out after so something tells me it's going to be a full night of a little bit of this and a little bit of that. I'm tired just thinking about it.

And of course, I have to finish the 48 that haunts my dreams on Sunday.

Sheeeeesh. Am I some kind of machine?

And this last mile I travel with you .

Thanks to my foxy little sister's hot connections, I will so be seeing POISON tomorrow night! I haven't been to Blossom in forever but I'll make the trek with my free ticket and VIP bar area bracelet to relive my youth. I think I covered all the Poison Bad Boy bases. I started at CC (that frosty white hair, those pink lips), migrated to Rikki (I'm not sure why...he sort of looked like Matt Hockey, my school-girl crush), had a short layover with Bret (everyone did, Damn pretty boy), and now I'm all about Bobbi (best looking in his old age). Their big hair days have gone to the dogs but I'll be happy enough to stretch out on the lawn and have a cocktail with my bald buddy since Jen was kind enough to give 2 of her tickets to us...I wonder if this is a double date? Hubba hubba. I hope Bill holds my hand when they play "Every Rose Has It's Thorn". *insert cookie-tossing noise here*

Speaking of cookie-tossing, Jenny Penny came to work today for a hot, afternoon lunch date with my and Bill. We went to the white trash buffet and I ate as many mashed potatos as I possibly could. It was fun to spend time with my two favorite people without an alcohol in our systems. I regret not having the blueberry pie. Next time.

So I started my big summer art project yesterday: painting Jimmie Johnson's 48 on Bill's garage door. I'm not doing it because I like Jimmie Johnson. Hell no! I'm a Jamie McMurray girl at heart (thought I have been cheating on him with Tony Stewart as of late). I'm doing it because he's been so excited about it...like a little kid. After I spent forever taping it off just right, I let him paint the black outline. I was happier than I've been in a long time. Painting puts me in my element and watching him help and be excited about it...made my heart pump some good, goopy, warm blood. He made us some burgers and chops and we had a romantic little dinner for two in the yard. I had a nice, long shower and an even nicer, long sleep. Remember when I said that I needed to be invited back into the bed before I felt better about bad times? Well, staying in the bed ona regular basis also helps prevent bad times. It's a preventative medicine, if you will.

And now the rumor is that Bill may be attending my very important Pussyfoot Girls show at Historic Dragway 42 on Saturday! I promised him that would make me steadily happy for the next 6 weeks! And it will. You all should come out and make me steadily happy. It's the least you can do!

ROCK-n-RACE
featuring:
Ace Brown and His Hell Divers
The Pussyfoot Girls
Slack-Jawed Yokels
Lords of the Highway
Twistin' Tarantulas

Dragway 42 has a concession stand with great homemade food and beverages. There are no beer or alcohol sales at the track but you are welcome to bring your own cooler of beverages provided there are no glass bottles. There is zero tolerance for drinking and racing. If you are seen drinking beer or alcohol you will not be allowed to race! Period. Save the beer for when you are done racing.

Dragway 42 is offering free camping for the event. Bring your tent or camper and stay the night. You can race all day Sunday too. The Super 8 Motel in Seville Ohio is also offering a great room rate for the event.

We have lots planned; drag racing, car show, pinstripers, great vendors, live bands plus a couple of other surprises that are just gonna knock your socks off. Please come on out and have some fun. This is the one show you do not want to miss!

Show Times
8am-10am Swap & Vendor set up
10am Gates open
11am-3pm Racing test & tune/time trials
3pm Racing starts (2 classes slick tire & street tire)
The bands will start after the race about 6pm
Cruise-in all day!

Show Prices
ALL PRICES INCLUDE ADMISSION TO THE CAR SHOW, DRAG RACE, SWAP & VENDOR AREA PLUS THE CONCERT WITH 3 LIVE BANDS.
$10 General admission
$15 Street tire racing (includes general admission)
$30 Slick tire racing (includes general admission)
$10 Cruiser admission (dash plaques for the first 100 cars)

I just might stop to check you out.

The last few days have been rough. I've been feeling rough. I've been treated rough. It's hard to feel physically bad and then have poor emotions heaped on top of it. I guess the bottom line, and this is a sorry bottom line, is that you really can't trust anyone but yourself. You can't expect anyone to give you comfort or take care of you when you're in need because when they don't live up to your expectations, you're sunk. Still, I don't think I should have been passed up when I REALLY needed someone just so they could go out and get wasted like an idiot. Especially the day before moving day.

Which was a success. It's like she's been living here for years.

We had an impromptu par-tay which was sort of...odd. Lots of rap music and bumping-n-grinding. My fella was there, 3 dudes we work with, The Shoes, my new roomie, her honey, a new friend, and my oldest friend. It was noisey. It was smokey. And it was a little dirty, to be honest. I got lots of drunken affection (I did feed my man, after all) which I needed. I didn't even care that it was the drunken variety. I smelled good. I looked cute. Hugs, kisses, fondling. It was a good time. I was upset before it all began because of the past few rotten days I had, but I declared that all I wanted to do was have fun and that's what I did. Even when Bill crossed his limit and went from "fun drunk" to "I-don't-care-about-anything drunk", I still let things flow. We went to bed and had a good drafting session.

I never feel like a fight or odd period between us has been resolved until I'm back in the bed and drafting. Sure, it was my bed for the first time in MONTHS (that's my choice though...I prefer his bed and his home...I think my life is too cluttered for him) but we were like snakes all night. There was an entertaining moment where Bill couldn't find the bathroom because he thought we were at HIS house and walked into Jen and Tom's room eventhougth the bathroom door was open and light was ON as I anticipated late night drunk behavior. And he also couldn't go to sleep until I played "Blister In the Sun" for him. He was freaking over it!

So though I'm still carrying around this tiny bit of weirdness in my chest over situations that have developed this week...things are repairing. We will be eating pizza and watching the race today (and I have to paint a Jimmie Johnson 48 on a garage door...I've been promising forever). I like when he makes plans for "we".

I've been slacking this July but I plan to kick it into gear,

A friend indeed is exactly what I need.

The only thing I've ever wanted in my life is for Ben and Lisa to come ot my Slumber Party Massacre next month. And tight pants. And big hair. And a dragon.

I love the fact that my little sister (sure, I adopted her but she might as well be my flesh-n-blood) is turning 20 years old in a few weeks and she still has 3 baby teeth! All of her teeth are itty bitty but these are the itty bittiest ones. The runts of the litter. It sort of fascinates me in a sick and twisted way that something so absurd is going on in her mouth. But I've always been obsessed with the dental end of the facial spectrum. My fella claims he has a "cyclops tooth" and I spend too much time gazing at it longingly. But this is about Jenny Penny. Why haven't those teeth fallen out, I wonder? Maybe they just love her so much that they won't move out. I wouldn't move out if I was one of her teeth. I once read a book in my dentist's office about teeth looking for a smile. The ended up finding a toothless old lady and settling in her gums so they could help her eat pie. Who doesn't love pie? But speaking of moving out...which I mentioned a million lines back...

Jen's moving in on Saturday. Prepare for all Hell to break loose!

3 days later and I'm finally starting to NOT feel like I've been run over by 10 angry horses being chased by 20 gnarly wolves. My body took a beating at the Pussyfoot Girls' Leroy Thompson show. Don't get me wrong, the show was an utter success as far as dancing girls who have access to an open bar go. We didn't drop our knives during the knife dance and though there was the ILLUSION that I cut Jen, I didn't. I accidentally touched her jug with the flat side of the blade. The crowd roared and held their breath in suspense but everyone lived through the night. I left Mentor and all my long distance friends...Sasquatch Dave, Hucklebuck Ted, Cleveland Pete... to have a backyard fire with my fella which was all sorts of confusing since his mouth wouldn't stop and I listened to the same country compilation 4 times in a row. There were tears...but there was also...something. I can't talk about it. I'm keeping this one to myself. It was...something.

Been spending a lot of time with the fella and his offpring which is getting tricky. I'm bonding, or so I think. I have fun with those runts. But I'm still not "the girlfriend". Sure, I sleep there every night and we're looked at as a couple by everyone we know but I am technically disposable. Any minute, he could flip his wig (if he HAD a wig) and want to date every chick under the sun. I don't think that's going to happen...I think he's just being careful. If he's not ready to commit (the dreaded 'C' word), it's better that he's honest with me. My heart can't take much more abuse, you know? It deserves a gentle massage...and it's been getting just that, which scares me. I AM commited. There would be Hurricane Katrina-like devastation if I became marshmallow-less. And let's not forget the mini-marshmallows.

Everyone knows I'm his girlfriend. I just need to get him on-board with that.

Things are still rocky with someone in my life. There was a verbal brawl of sorts on Friday that I believe was totally uncalled for. Sadly, I don't feel as close to this person as I used to and that's a damn shame. Maybe things will change in the future. Who knows? When you go from actually hanging out and making plans with someone to barely remembering what fun you had together...it's rotten. I don't want to end up acquaintences but...hmmm. We shared pancakes today and as everyone knows, that's the official breakfest food of workplace peace. So at least we won't be trying to gouge each others eyeballs out with sticks that have been peed on by dogs. Not today anyway.

Then you'll miss me, won't you?

There's nothing better than having your vacation start with a life-altering event. Yes, ladies and germs, I saw both Huey Lewis and the News AND Chicago, live and in my face. I just want to run my hands through Huey's luscious hair. I have no need to know if the rumors about him are true. I just need to know what it feels like to hold on to that hair! He played all the hits outside of "Stuck With You" and "If This Is It". I was overly satisfied to the point of being gassy. And while Chicago is a little too 10-minute brass solo/interlude dependant, they played "If You Leave Me Now" and that's all that matters. I bought a $30 t-shirt instead of 5 beers. I was drunk with joy just being there. And Tessa was a wonderful date, even if she didn't put out.

And then it was off to Heavy Rebel at 5am.

What can I say about Heavy Rebel that you don't already know, considering I travelled with a majority of you thugs? We had 5+ hotel rooms worth of hooligan pals running amuck in the warmth of Winston-Salem. We ruled the school. While it tended to be a more low-key Heavy Rebel, I think I had the best time. I saw bands I love, rocked the HELL out, drank beer, ordered room service, slept in, maxed-n-relaxed with all the Ol' Kentucky Sharks, recieved much welcomed and heart-pumping phone calls from the home front, danced, bought stickers for my future new mobile, saw pals from around the states...and I even farted on a girl in someone else's honor. Juvenile YET hilarious. Vacation produces a lot of excess gas. I didn't swim. I didn't see Red Hot Poker Dots. I didn't order dessert. I didn't get a lap dance from Lisa. But regardless, life was good at Heavy Rebel 2006. You should have seen how happy Deacon from the Brimstones and I were.

But life didn't calm down once I returned on Monday.

I had to interupt to say that my fella just walked into my cubicle with a vanilla Snack Pack in hand and said, "Want some pudding, Pudding?". While insanely gay, I thought it was terribly sweet. And yes, I did in fact want some pudding. I am enjoying it now as I type. YUM! He's my hero and he knows it.

So I get back in town and hauled ass to my home away from home after actually being AWAY from my home. Gave the cats a quick pet and was on my way to that big, cushy bed in Garfield where my marshmallow lives. We missed each other. It was good to get big hugs. He took me to dinner and we had beers around a backyard fire with friends. We were tipsy and goofy and smoochie. The best feeling was telling him that I would paint a giant 48 on his garage door and seeing how happy it made him. Making him happy really rocks my socks off...and then my socks got rocked off and I slept like a baby. A baby sleeping on a giant marshmallow!

The holiday was utterly berzerk! I didn't stop for even a second! I was like Speed Racer! Speed Racer on Meth, perhaps! Got up, got out of dodge (and I didn't want to get out...I was blissful), went to a family function, had PFG practice, went to a fella family function where I went Vodka nutty (Mandarine, Raspberry, and good, ol' regular), and went back to the bed. It was hard to get up yesterday. It's not good to drink your weight in alcohol when you have to go back to work after vacation. I felt ultimately pretty nasty and beat. I wrapped yesterday up with pizza, a chick flick, and some serious drafting. I feel like a million bucks.

But I need a vacation from my vacation.

If you're anyone important, you'll be at Leroy Thompson Choppers this Saturday, July 8th for the 3rd Annual Rockabilly Deluxe! Your $10 admission grants you the right to feast your eyes on 1988, Slack-Jawed Yokels, Legendary Hucklebucks, THE PUSSYFOOT GIRLS, Lords of the Highway, and Sasquatch and the Sick-a-Billys, in that order. Plus, bikes and beer. What more could you want? 8685 Twinbrook Rd. Mentor, OH 44060. Any questions? Don't bug me! Bug them! 440-266-1635.