Tuesday, September 25, 2007

You remember me. I have been here always.

I saw a shirt with a man pushing a lawn moved that said, "I wish my lawn was emo so it would cut itself". I didn't buy it but I did appreciate it. Not because I am or ever was a cutter because I am not and never was. It's because I am a sucker for a novelty t-shirt!

Right now, I owe the very fine threads of sanity I am hanging on by to my 4 very bestest pals in the whole universe. That sounded very My Little Pony or Care Bears-esque but I can deal with it. Without them, shucks, who knows where I'd be? Probably all gothed out, listening to AFI's new emo-centric album...or maybe some cry-baby, shoe-gazer jams. I'd probably be just laying on the couch counting my bed sores. But I'm not sulking anymore. I'm doing my best to live it up. I only get one life as far as I know. I want to sleep comfortably in my coffin.

Enjoy these love notes and then vomit all over at your leisure.

Dear Johnny Switchblade,

I have no one to thank more than you so I'm putting you on top. I figured you'd get feisty if I didn't. Thanks for being so k-rad. Thanks for stuffing your face full of Japanese food (and various other foods) with me. Thanks (in advance) for coming over for "Knocked Up/Take Out" night (and various other food and movie functions). Thanks for the oodles of goofy text messages and constant wit slinging. Thanks for forcing me to listen to "Don't Look Back In Anger" twice in one evening. Thanks for the muffin joke...and other bouts of side-splitting hilarity. Thanks for ripping ass a little less and being a fraction less gay. You're my favorite accessory.

See you in Portland.

Deborah Huffington-Straussmeyer
Dear Carol High Hair,

This past weekend was pretty much just what I needed to back up my ass onto the right track again. The show was swell but Friday (post-hangover) was better and this weekend might even top it all off...like that cupcake frosting we orgasmed over. You let me babble my hungover head off all the way to Pittsburgh and I needed it. Everything I do is a little bit more fun if you're there. Even my roasted tomato soup tasted better in your presence! Yeah, Friday was pretty much an ideal day. I slept well that night. I owe it all to you. My chest, despite my big jugs, felt lighter after you let me unload.

Where have you been all my life?

"Wah Wah!" for eternity,
Patricia Cake
Dear Queen B,

I should have tied a rope around your leg to keep you from high-tailing it to C-Bus. Why!? Why didn't I try just a little harder!? Regardless, I'm sure you already know this due to many nights of me losing my mind and faculties in your presence, but I owe my life to you. I wouldn't have survived 3/4 of the things I did without your help and unfailing friendship. Hell, I owe you a house in the Hamptons just for making me eat and brush my hair after that whole silly divorce nonsence! You are the person I wish I could be more like (without eating all that funky food...and there's that whole "hippie" thing). I can't wait to see you on Saturday!

Thanks for being my life-preserver.

Dear Puffin,

You are without a doubt the biggest pain in my can. I constantly want to kick you in the shins. But I've never been as "in" a relationship as I am with this one. All the little (good) things add up to erase all the can pains and shin kicking. You've really been there for me in recent weeks (besides that one messy incident...jerk) and I apprecaite that so much. I appreciate the post-school dinners and shark pops, most. And you've put up with me being a total crabby pants (and have snapped out of it quickly when you had your crabby pants on). I know we both have a lot going on so it's hard to step back and put the other person first. Thanks for stepping back recently. I promise I'll make it up to you (get your mind out of the gutter, pervert).

I should probably thank Phoebe for helping me find you. Note to self.

I love you,

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

She just wants to be somebody's only one.

en·nui (noun): a feeling of utter weariness and discontent resulting from satiety or lack of interest; boredom: The endless lecture produced an unbearable ennui.

Yeah. Ennui. Ennui all over the place. It's like a plague. A pox. I can't shake it and no amount of ice-cream (even Ben and Jerry's Cinnamon Buns) will help. Like I said, work, school, sleep, repeat. I've managed to fit in some Pussyfooting without going berzerk. It was rough though. I just want to shut my mind off for an unlimited period of time. Right now, for whatever reason, anything and everything feels like a drag. Even eating. Even BEER. I'm having such a rough go...can't seem to stop counting the minutes before I can go back to bed. 870 sounds right.

I don't want to say I'm depressed. So I'm up to my eyeballs in ennui instead.

The only things I can even stand to attempt to wrap my mind around are whether or not dale Earnhardt, Jr.'s stepmother would be evil enough to sabotage his engine and why an elderly copule has been living at an Travel Lodge for 22 years. I think I also can rewind the series finale of Gilmore Girls and watch Luke and Lorelai smooch a few times. That's all I can handle. Mindless and meaningless. Even L.A. Ink was too much for me and that's about as shocking as a rolling pin up your can. Cause mndless and meaningless? Shooooooooot.

I've had to be at work at 5:45 daily since my warehouse manager got his head stomped on which resulted in a gazillion staples in his neck and a wired-shut jaw (he looks TUFF). I've already had 2 quizzes this week (for which I gained an A and a B, respectfully) and I have a 100 question exam today...cross your fingers that my mind temporarily stops swimming. I have to complete my solo dance for the Pussyfoot show next Thursday, not to mention work on a blind-fold dance with Karen and I'm all out of money moves.

And I'd like to have SOME FLIPPING FUN SOMETIME!!!

But it's only Wednesday. Fun is not allowed to start any earlier than Friday. Fudge.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Just when I thought I could stand on my own.

Sorry for being a dud. I've had a lot going and a lot to gab about but honestly, I jsut haven't had the will power or energy or even the desire to fill you in. Lame, I know, but that else is new? I'll give you the quick and painless version of my life but it's going to be a little less bang for your buck. Sorry if you feel slighted or disappointed but that's how it is. Man, I can't even tell if I'm angry or depressed today and I forgot to wear my mood ring. Shucks.

Work is work. Actually, work is painful. I'm not going into any wordy detail because I hate wordy people. If you cut out the amount of adjectives and fancy shmancy literary jargon that people use to try and appear smart, you'd probably realize they have nothing to say. So...work sucks. Simple as that. But I get a fattish paycheck so...yeah.

School is school. School is actually good. I really like my Anatomy and Physiology lab. I feel like I'm really learning shtuff. The endoplasmic reticulum is so my bitch! Math makes me feel like a dummy but I've always been a math dummy. Luckily, I'm not the olderst person in the class. But I'm not the youngest either which also rocks. These little girls with braces and white belts make me chuckle. Anyone who wants to flash me flashcards and increase my brain size over ice-cream, holler.

My relationship is currently kind or irritating. It's such a roller coaster that I might as well not even talk about it. But I will just to make you sick. I love the man and had a fancy tropical vacation with him but damn, I am just doing too much of the work. I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to feel so lonely when I've been seeing someone for a year and a half (2 and a half if you want to get technical and morally wrong about it all). And sicne I know this relationship will never lead to marriage or kids and we don't even live together yet (and probably won't any time soon since my fun stuff clashes with his hotel room, minimalist motif)...I don't know. My mind is all over the place. Jackson Pollack painting up in here.

Pussyfoot Girls are stressing me out. Jen is out...again...so that leaves us to 3. Is this even fun anymore? I can't even tell. That's not good. We havea show with Bob Log III and Uncle Scratch's Gospel Revival which is our first show after an almost 2 month hiatus. I should be more excited...especially is the lovely Lisa will be there. Why am I so blah about the whole thing? Why do I feel like throwing in the towel?

My life = work, school, sleep, repeat.