HELLO SANDUSKY!

5 little Pussyfoot Girls and our handsome, bald bouncer are piling into the Gray Ghost and high-tailing it to Sandusky for a show tonight. We've never strutted our shtuff in that city before and we don't know what kind of bands we'll be swinging it with. So maybe I'm a little weary. But I'm ready for a teenage rockin' roadtrip with the P-Feet.

Things have sort of calmed down this week. I've got new hours at work and thanks to some wheelin' and dealin', my pay has been upped, much to the dismay of some people. You think that people could set aside their own yuck-o-ness and just be happy for me but nooooo. That would be way to much to ask. Regardless, I'll still share what I've got even if some douches might be routing against me.

What was a I saying about calming down?

So Puffin and I have our sitch back in normal gear. He wont be accompanying us to Sandusky tonight but I'm more than fine with that. It's a good thing that we can separate from time-to-time without crumbling. I know that both he and I have had exs that just didn't have lives of their own. I have a life. He has a life. We can goo them together or we can rock out alone. I always like his company and the goof-ball things we do together, but I'm looking forward to a long night out dancing, drinking, and telling inappropriate jokes with my vagina squad.

1. I don't think I want to go to Vegas anymore.
2. My NASCAR fantasy team was totally SUCK-O!
3. I had a fight before I even had coffee today (I don't drink coffee).

Top 3 reasons why I wish today was flushed down the can.

I'm leaving to go watch the first NASCAR race of the season with William. I'm pretty sure he won't say anything to me about blowing me off for beers. I'm most likely a sucker for going over there at all. But I had a turning point yesterday...I just plain, flat out didn't care that he called me at all (he did...but I didn't care). I just went about my life which is how it should be. You can't do everything for someone of when they treat you like a dead dog in the street, you take it. I'm not taking it anymore. I'm cool with being second to his kids, his job. But I will NOT be second to BEER! No matter how malted the hops and barely are. Mmmmmmmm. Delish!

I don't even want to talk about this rotten situation anymore. It's a joke. I'm sure you're sitting at home thinking it's a joke because I have probably felt that way about your relationship at some point or another. I'm not a nice person but dog gone, I'm trying! Regardless, kill rot blather. I'm done with the topic.

The show last night was a vagina flapping success! That even grossed me out. Moving on. Our new songs were tops and I was especially thrilled with "I'm Shakin'" as an opener and "The Pop-Up Song" because I get to perform lewd and suggestive gestures with a parasol to a sexy song about a toaster!! The ride down was a joke-telling riot but the ride back was painful since I was hella tired and not up for hitting another bar (we left early due to bad weather and bad toilets). But I got nachos (!!!) so all was good. It was nice to kick off my shoes and put my stinky dogs to bed. Sometimes all I need are my pillows and my cats.

And sometimes I use my cats as pillows.

I'm in a fairly suck-o mood which seriously goes hand-in-hand, do-si-do-ing if you will, with my past Valentine's Days. People are selfish. I know. I'm one of them. But probably for the first time ever, I just don't gvie a rat's ass. If people treat you like flies on dog poo, why should you care what the Hell they are doing? I'm not going to care. I'm not going to beg (or wait for) and apology. I'm just going to go out and have a kick-ass time and not wonder what my selfish jerk-off boyfriend is doing. For real...I could sit here and paint a glowing picture of how retarded I am for him 24 hours a day but that would be a big, fat, pig-sized lie. Sometimes he sucks. Today he sucks. I'm just going to shake off his suckiness and you know where I'm going to do that?

CHUCK'S STEAKHOUSE IN AKRON!
(home of the all-day $3.99 steak dinner)
-The Pussyfoot Girls
-The Ally Casters
- The Slack-Jawed Yokels
-The Devilibillies.

Pull those $4 out of your g-string...tall beers, big boobs, loud rock. Live a little.

I got blown off tonight. I may set someone or something on fire.

It's Valentine's Day. I should be full of love but I'm full of disdain. It took me 2 hours to get to work today and this travel happened AFTER I got stuck in the street in front of my house and found that someone stole my shovel! Some serial killer looking dude helped dig me out but I was red-faced and teary and aggravated and I kicked my car and made angry phone calls.

Those phone messages were later broadcast at my work so everyone could see how close to the edge I was...over a shovel. But you would have been riled up, too. I could have wrestled a robotic wolf and won. I would have been blood-covered and terrifying. I've always hated Valentine's Day and this one just iced the cake.

I still have to cook tonight, too. You can't even imagine how much I want to bail on that. But I guess you suck it up to prove your love to someone. Fuck love. And fuck dinner. I pretty much just want to crawl in a hole and hybernate. It's warm in Las Vegas. Or it will be when I get there. I love Ohio with all of my heart and soul but come on...is this a joke?

Eating snowflakes with plastic forks.

It is almost 8:00p and I JUST got home from work. And I pretty much want to cry. And kick mother nature straight in her baby making oven. The weather...God. I am so stressed out abotu all of this snow. Maybe I sound like a wuss-bag, I really don't care. I'm going to pout until my hands stop shaking.

I left worky work almost 4 hours ago! I didn't even try the highway because what a disaster that would have been. But the side streets weren't any better and I was slipping and sliding all over the damn place. AND my gas light was on the whole time. For almost 4 hours! I thought for sure we were going to have a major situation and that I'd be found frozen. Did I mention that I drove without the heat on because of the gas situation? Dumb ass.

I can't even really explain to you how bad it was. I'm just too upset. It was classic Cleveland times ten. I'm pretty sure I'll have to cancel all of my routes tomorrow which will be a mega disaster. I hate yelly customers. But I'd rather have them then dead crews. God, I hate winter. Almost as much as I hate Cameron Diaz. I'm over this. I need to go rape my DVR.

And I haven't even shopped for V-Day dinner yet! BLECH!

You need to know I love you so.

I'm cooking dinner for Bill on Valentine's Day. I was been knee-deep in Rachael Ray all of yesterday. That sounds so dirty...you can take it either way you want. Regardless, I'll be calling on her 30 minute powers to make sure I don't screw anything up or poison anyone. I know it won't turn out as well as I'm imagining in my head. It's the thought that counts, I guess. And would poisoning a guy who has been a real jack-ass recently be such a bad thing? Hmmmmm.

*Disclaimer: I am NOT poisoning Bill. Do NOT call the police.*

So we all went out. All of us. Even my boyfrined, Suck-O. I felt very awkard with him but very kick-ass with everyone else. I should have just let the fight go on. I shouldn't have called and demanded an apology because it's easy to apologize over the phone. And I'm not a dummy. He never means it. He just wants to put a band-aid on things so he doesn't have to hear a nag. Whatever. I had fun with everyone else...the people that made effort. I drank a daquiri out of a Buddah, ate great Japanese food (go to Benihana NOW...it's remodled and BEAUTIFUL...even had some yummy Sushi that tasted like cereal for their sushi bar), bar bowled, accosted a DJ and realized that my friends are cool and I'm lucky to have them. If I didn't have Suck-O, I'd still be more than OK. They've proved this int he past.

But I have to head back over there for what I predict is a long night of ignoring each other.

It’s such a shame for us to part

As of last night, I have no boyfriend and no job. I'm 28 and awesome.

The Cliff's Notes version will just say that after a bar outting (I was sober, mind you), there was a verbal fight (and I was pretty silent, mind you) that ended with my emptying my drawers at Bill's house, backing up all of my belongings (he can have my toothbrush and shampoo for all I care) and proceeding to drive home. But WHY just drive home when you can drive home AND simultanously put notice in at your job? I'm a multi-tasker.

Then you go home all frustrated and amped and sweaty where only Pepsi and Futurama can save you and the phone calls begin. All night long. Drunk dials where one minute, a person is sweet and the next, they are in total alcoholic mode and their sister is calling you an asshole. I'm an asshole!? you don't even know what BAR YOU WERE IN OR WHAT CITY, LADY!?!? That's when the "I'm too good for this kind of psycho shit" attitude kicks in and you stop answering the phone.

Pretty awesome that a fight gets picked with me the day before all of my best friends are getting together to celebrate my birthday. I mean, seriously, I can't think of a better time for this to happen. I wish I had planned this disaster myself. And I'll go out and have fun without the bastard but I have this sneaking suspicion that it will be all my fault or that I'll have to patch things up. Why do I not see Vegas in my future? Why do I not see a future in my future? Fuck 'em.

By policy of our new owners, your birthday is now a paid holiday, as it always should have been in my opinion. After all, I'm a birthday whore. I jumped right on that puppy and took yesterday off with plans to get my divorce decree, change my name and address on my license, get my cell phone fixed, work on a Pussyfoot song, and fit in some well deserved napping. Heaven.

Well, it was a NIGHTMARE of a day off! Pure waste of 8 hours. The phone never stopped ringing with work related questions (as I have ZERO back-up at work, I'd like to see what they do if I break my neck) and I never got anything done! Not a THING that I wanted to which is depressing. And hella frustrating. I didn't sleep so well the night of my birthday so yesterday I was pretty much a pathetic version of an actual zombie of the sleeping variety. Suck, suck, suck. And my grouchiness for yesterday has carried over to today's work day. I'm a force to be reckoned with. I see cocktails in my future.

Can you say "best birthday EVER"? I totally can and totally will.

I really and truly am a lucky girl. Due to this fact, one would wonder why I boo-hoo and crab so much. Enjoy this. I'm taking a rare oppotunity to count my blessings. I had a lovely birthday. Lovely is the best word to describe it, I think, and I rarely use that word.I was overcome by text messages, phone calls, e-mails, My Space comments from the nuts who love, or at least tolerate, me. It was a nice ego boost for the day.

For the first time in my life, I had flowers delivered to me at work and my fella was as excited for me to get them as I was to have them. Beautiful, hands down.My VP took me to lunch at the white trash Golden Corral where I stuffed myself full of mashed potatos (not a diet friendly lunch). I had corn and fruit punch and ice-cream and took an hour lunch, which I dont' do...because I COULD!My office gal pals took me to the local dive for beer and my money was no good there that day! Which is just the way I like my money to be!

And while all of this was going down, my superboy was cooking me dinner...porkchops, potatos, veggies, bread, and even a cake with pink icing!My presents were beyond bizarre...a baseball mit and baseballs, a DVD of a movie both Bill and I hated, some stuff for my workout regime, a rubber ducky that grows 300x it's size, and some gourmet chocolate covered strawberries. Weird combo but rad thoughts.

And now, this weekend, the Queen B is coming from C-Bus and we're all going to do it up right! I can barely hold my bladder contents in due to all the anticipation. This birthday has been really incredible and it's one that won't end for at least another week or so. Just the way I like things...about me me me! THANKS Y'ALL! LOVE YOU TO DEATH! DEATH, I SAY!

It's my mother-truckin' birthday! I'm 28!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ahhhhhh!!!!!

Bill gave me a check for $1,000.00 today. I was like the road runner with a puff of smoke trailing behind me as I high-tailed it to the bank to deposit. It was a Las Vegas funds check which makes us one step closer to walking hand in hand down the strip. I've been experiencing so much anxiety over booking this trip because flights and hotels are filling up due to the race. This race is a BIG deal...it pretty much proves who will be the top dogs of the season. Regardless, once I have my tickets in my hand...I'll be a happy clam and my shoulder tension will disappear, helping solidify not having a hump back in my old age.

Speaking of old age, we have to go to a funeral tonight. Creeps. It was someone I didn't even know but Bill asked me to accompany him. I felt like saying , "We're not going to the movies...you don't need a date". But I'm a girlfriend and that's what we do. We get dressed up and hold hands with our boyfriends while they stare at dead bodies. Yikes. I'm not very good at funerals...I usually tend to smile too much or giggle. I'm totally inappropriate. I'll be honest, I've been thinking of ways to get out of it but that would just make me pathetic. He needs me...I'm there. How could I say no to a guy who just gave me a $1000 check!

But death travels in threes. My grandpa...Mark's dad...who's next!?

Yesterday was NOT a day to leave my hive but I DID in order to get new glasses and, dun dun dun...CONTACTS! I look crrrraaaaazy! Like a psycho version of my former self. I sleep with my glasses on so to NOT have them on and see myself CLEARLY without them on, well, it's a lot to handle. I feel like I'm missing a limb. But it's freeing. Not that missing a limb would be freeing...in fact, it would be cause for my suicide. I won't be blinded during any Pussyfoot shows. Once I shook my head and glasses went whizzing off my mug and right under the drums! But I couldn't SEE THEM. Dennis came to my rescue. What a man. Ramble mode off: I'll try and get some pictures of my new specs and specless face up here as fast as I can. Maybe I'll even put up a snapshot of my new Vegas vacation aviators! Weeeeeee! The many eye-coverings of ME!

The Colts won the Super Bowl while I won Ms. Pac-Man. We rule

Oh what a birthday surprise!

I went to Carol's Over the Hill-billy Birthday last night and it was a screaming, white trashy success! So many people love Carol to death and I'm one of them. She should be cloned in a miniature version so I can have a Carol that lives at my house...like a kitten. But instead of mewing, she would say hilarious things and sing witty songs. Delightful.

I wasn't in my ultimate party mode which makes me feel like I failed her since I KNOW she'll rock the effin' eff out of my brithday this weekend. I TRIED, believe you me! I had a rough morning at work with the dumb, frozen, popsicle trucks. And then when I tried to take the world's longest cat nap to recoop, well, it just wasn't happening. So I was a sleepy kid. But I slapped on my cowboy shirt, tied up those pigtails, and mosied (possible spelling disaster there) on over the the shin-dig where I had 3 hours of rockin' fun.

Highlights: Rocko was there, Phoebe was there, Carol's one woman band (Miss Firecracker) was AMAZING and sang a song called "Beer-n-Bacon", Uncle Scratch put on there very best basement show which encorporated every maracca-esque instrument in the room and everybody shakin' their shtuff, the lime jello shots were divine, and though I missed Carolaoke (featuring Johnny singing "Every Rose Has It's Thorn"), I know Carol had a great birthday because she was allll smiles. I'm glad I could be a part of it.

Gotta do what's gotta be done. I'm liquored up!

Note to self: do not drink your weight in beer and shots the night before you have to get up at 5:00a for work. This can only lead to bad things including cookie-tossing and head hula hoops. And you'll kick youself square in the arse for being so foolish when 3 out of 5 of your work trucks won't start because it's 7 degrees outside and there's nothing you can do about it because what the HELL do you know about moving trucks? Squat, that's what. I should have been home and back in bed HOURS ago but God is punishing me. Most other religions would say he's not a punishing God but I'm Catholic for crying out loud. It's all about guilt. Why am I even typing this? I've got Advil PMs with my name on them. Gots to recover so I can start all over again at Carol's shin-diggity tonight. Temporary coma, here I come!

Stupid trucks.

I was happier then with no mind-set.

I left work early yesterday because I just HAD to know if my rib was broken. It is. I couldn't understand the doctor so I'm not sure if she said my third or my tenth rib. It's pretty low and around the curve of my body so I'm guessing tenth. It's not important but it sure smarts, as it has been for the past week or two. They gave me a rib brace and a prescription and sent me on my way, advising me to ice it when I can and take Aleve when I'm not taking the Vicodin. Nothing more I can do. Stupid p-monia is wrecking me.

After I left the clinic, I called my mommy to give her the 4-1-1. She had some 4-1-1 for me. My grandpa died. I hadn't see him in while and maybe I actually didn't know him very well. But I feel rotten. And I know my mom is sad which makes me feel even worse. No one wants their mom to be in pain and I didn't have a good way of telling her I was sorry when her mother died. I'm trying to do better this time around. Not much I can do when the funeral's in Florida. Heaven's Waiting Room, or so they say.

So yesterday was pretty much a rotten day. The Pussyfoot Girls cheered me up by being their silly selves and embracing my PFG name change to Patty Cake. I don't want to be sour anymore. I want to be adorable and adored. I don't know how that will work out but I do know this: my friends and my fella have been their for me with this whole rib and grandpa thing. I appreicate it, everyone. Please know that.

They've finally taken shape for us.

I pretty much thought the last time Bill and I drank together would be the last time. As of late, when we drink, we rumble. Claws come out. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. For being a couple that loves the malted hops and barely, we're not very good drinkers. Well, we decided to give cocktailing another go because I was mopey and he was...Bill...so off we went. And it was a grrrrreat evening! Tony the Tiger approved!

After several beers at a local Garfield dive, we decided to go stuff our faces at Ruby Tuesday's. Little did we know that it was opening night! And little did we know that we were buzzed like little bees! What a bunch of goof-offs we were. The beer kept coming and the food was delish! They even have my fav tomato-mozzarella salad on the menu with the itty bitty tiny cheese! I made Bill eat one (he's not a cheese fanatic) to prove he loved me. He did. I'm a jerk-off.

Regardless, we had a great night, enjoyed each others company, and acted like total carefree goobers. I hope that whole feeling carries over to our vacation. I envision us walking down the strip with our giant skull glasses from Treasure Island, taking ridiculous pictures and holding hands like we're a couple of high school kids. Nothing feels better than a good evening after a sucky one. It's fun to make up. And after dragging our silly asses home we watched Ilan win Top Chef! LIFE IS GOOD!