The world is treating me baaaaaad.

Misery!

Of COURSE I'm sick. Why wouldn't I be? It's fucking Christmas time. I should've expected nothing less than feeling like I've been massacred by a truck. I'm pretty damn miserable right now. I should probably hit up the doctor's office but why? They'll just tell me I have a cold or whatever and send me home. Then I will have wasted valuable sleeping/moping time sitting in a germ-infested waiting room. No thanks, Tom Hanks! I'm just tuff it out the best I can.

I opened my Christmas gifts from Todd last night. Lots of vinyl toys. That sounds dirty but it's really not. That ding-dong Phoebe pulled me into her world and now I have a semi-expensive hobbie! *shakes fist in Phoebe's face* I got a big Mozzarella figure so all I need is strawberry to have the complete Moofia. I got a vinyl labbit with a variety of things to stick in it's mouth...moustache, legs, hamburger, zipper..., and my favorite gift of all: ANCIENT BOB THE ACTION SLUG! The labbit riding on top of him wearing the "Clash of the Titans" helmet is even cuter than I imagined. It was a big shock. I didn't really expect any presents since I'm rockin' some phat diamonds on my digit. But I'm psyched about what I got. I won't have anything to open on X-Mas...but I'll live.

I got a Dead Kennedys t-shirt, too. Blast from the past.

GRRRRR! My ears are ringing and there's some sort of buzzing where I am so the buzzing is competing with the ringing and I am destined to MURDER SOMEONE WITH MY BARE HANDS! My lips are swollen (again, sounds dirty but isn't), my eyes are pulsating, my throat is raw, my nose is running...MISERY! You want to tell me to quit my bitching? I would mail that suggestion in a letter because you don't want to get close enough to me to feel my wrath. UGH! Now my stomach is in knots!

I HATE CHRISTMAS!

Now...eyes burn circles in the dark.

I can't believe this clusterfuck of a year is almost over. Don't get me wrong, it beat the pants off of last year. But still...for a lot of people I know, including myself at times...this year was painful and somewhat pathetic. I'll take what I've learned and apply it to 2009, the year I'm getting married. I can't believe that in 2 weeks I can say, "I'm getting married this year". Bananas. Life is bananas.

Why this sudden reflection?

The last few weeks have wrecked my brain stress-wise. At this very moment, even if it's not going to last, I feel somewhat calm and at ease. I need to deal with the things I can deal with and stop worrying about the things I can't deal with. That's life. I shouldn't lose sleep over some of the things I'm losing sleep over. It's just ridiculous. At the end of the day, what matters is that I have good friends, a better life than most, and a totally adorable dude that loves me (and loves the WEIRDEST things about me...like how I laugh at Family Guy and that I call our dog Pupperoni). I'm leaving stress in 2008 where it belongs.

Goals (NOT resolutions) for 2009
1. Stick to my workout schedule.
2. Eat better
3. See an Imunologist and get my health on track.
4. Manage my back pain.
5. Spend more time with friends.
6. Make Todd feel mega-loved DAILY.
7. Focus on painting.
8. Finish up home improvements.
9. Enjoy every SECOND of our wedding.
10. Have an incredibly stress-free Honeymoon!

Tens a good round number. I feel good about my "goals". I'm starting a new life in 9 months. I need to prepare for it but working on myself a little. Do I sound like a self-help book? Gross. I need to bang my skull on something hard and rough and scarring. But it IS true. If I don't feel tip top physically, emotionally, mentally, whatever...I'll be no good to anyone. I need to be able to punch stress in the face and move on so I don't miss out on all the awesomeness in front of me. Stress gets kicked in the balls, awesomeness gets made love to. Simple as that.

Good times, people. Good times.

We're having fun now it's plain to see!

The guy who dealt the fatal blow to Matt Hockey earlier this year was found guily of involuntary manslaughter and assault on Thursday or Friday. Sentencing will happen some time in January. Please keep his family in your thoughts. Just because the dude was found guilty does NOT bring Matt back to his family, including his young son. Such a sad thing to go through at the holidays.

Speaking of the holidays...

Have I ever mentioned that I HATE shopping? I do. Ick. AND Christmas? Hate that, too. But having Todd around this year to have our own Anti-Christmas...I dig it. And I'm fine missing out on all the hoopla and nonsense...but I WOULD like a tree. I left my tree up until almost JULY last year because I loved it so much. I guess I'll have to put presents under...I dunno. I have nothing to put them under!

It's going to be a long day. I can feel it in my bones. And in my intestines. My intestines usually get rowdy when it's going to be a really long day. I'm not looking forward to it. I'm also not looking forward to chest piece tattoo removal on Friday. I'm actually dreading that straight down to my core. But it's gotta be done. It's time. Five years of being a wuss is looooooong enough, I tell you what!

This weekend was a 50/50 deal. Todd, Jimmy and I went to some goofy bar in Lakewood that I did not have high hopes for. But my hair looked incredible...and there was a really bad but fun cover band...and shots of Jamesons! It turned out to be so much fun that the rest of the weekend paled in comparison. I think we used up all of our "fun" on Friday. I may have even overdosed on the fun because although I really didn't drink that much...I left with the hiccups and have a tiny portion of the night missing from my memory. Despite what he says, I don't think Todd and I made sweet love for 3 hours. Nice try though.

That's really about it, sadly. This "hermit" stuff doesn't really lend to good blogging. But the chilling had been good. And the painting. And the seriously snuggle time. Maybe it doesn't blow your minds like when I would write about fucking shit up at The Mantis or any number of crazy things that happened while out-n-about with Johnny...but I'm so wrecked (probably from all those years of tomfoolery) that sometimes sitting around and playing cards or watching cartoons is just fine by me.

I heard "Power of Love" by Huey Lewis every day this weekend. Maybe that will have to be our wedding song. Probably not...but never count out the overwhelming power of The News.

But there's nights that I wonder if you remember.

This weekend was just a motherfucking rollercoaster. I hate rollercoasters, especially those of the emotional variety. Life is full of ups and downs, I get that. I just hate up, down, up, down. Now I get why Tessa hates rollercoasters. That feeling when your stomach bottoms out is almost intollerable now. I used to take it like a champ in my youth...I welcomed the feeling and it made me laugh. Now, no thanks. And a big, fat NO THANKS when your stomach bottoms out with both feet on the ground.

As for the "ups"...

Friday was a slam-dunk. One of the best times I've had in a long time. Besides hankey-pankey and cupcakes and cruisin' and Moofia and Smorkin' Labbits and big beers at Melt and more hankey-pankey...there was LISA! She was just as adorable as ever. More adorable, actually. And she got to meet Todd...which was captured on film. And Rocko was there which is always a TREAT! Hanging with my friends, shooting the breeze, eating cheese, slugging beers, watching them shoot guns, listening to 8-tracks...I'm lucky to have the friends that I do. I was even thanked for having such cool friends. Friday, all around, was an award-winner.

The "downs"?

1. Lisa is gone again. Fuck.
2. I was in an unexplainable bad mood Saturday.
3. Sunday there was a BLOW OUT with some residual damage.
4. And..."the finger incident", explained below.

My nephew, the walking time-bomb, was trying to use a knife to jimmy the back window of his new truck open. Some way, some how, he cut his index finger off. OK..not OFF...but he cut through muscle, tendon, ligament, nerve and there was major bone damage...blech. I could toss my cookies just thinking about it. I was informed that it was hanging on by a thread and there was questions about whether or not the finger could be saved. Thanks to surgery, it was. Everything on him was soaked in blood, including his cellphone. I guess it looked like he had been shot because he wrapped his patially severed finger in his shirt to stop the bleeding. There may be some nerve damage but never damage is better than a missing digit on his dominant hand. The whole story is extremely upsetting. A definite "down".

Off subject, do they still make Mars bars?

I am so sad since you went away.

Matt was my first "puppy love". His sister was in my grade and was my best friend until they moved. They were both adorable. I had the BIGGEST crush on Matt from about Kindergarten to Fourth Grade. As some of you may know, he died in March or April after a bar fight in Lakewood. Some guy that was in town on business hit him in the back of the head outside of the bar. The police tried to convince Matt to go to the hospital but he decided to go home. And he died there.

His trial started Monday.

This whole thing is still so unbelieveable. I hung out with him and his sister for years. He played hockey so I went to games with Chirstina and even on a roadtrip to Detroit for some sort of playoffs. Even as we hit the junior high years, I still thought he was the most adorable kid I had ever seen. And this is how his life ended...from a blow to the back of the head. And his father found him. How terrible. And he himself was a father to a little boy, I think. It's all just so stupid and mindblowing. His mother and father take the stand today. And the coroner. THE CORONER. Terrible.

His whole family is in my thoughts, no doubt.

I have nothing witty to say today. It's too sad of a day.

Sew on patches...to all you tear.

I have totally abandon my "Cannibalicious" style paintings in favor of half naked Disney Princesses! Painting the good girls doing bad things! I have never been so pumped and ridiculous. I believe I said "doing whatever she is doing with her fishy business" the other day while painting a topless Ariel (who is in my top 3, of course). Phoebe and I had a conversation about whether or not Disney would issue me a cease and dessist order. I guess I better pump out as many of these puppies as possible! The liklihood that they'll stumble upon little ol' me and my little ol' art show is highly improbable. I should stop talking about it. Disney has eyes EVERYWHERE!

I get to see Lisa in 3 days! I just peed a little.

I dunno...maybe it feels like I'm abandoning the blogosphere but I'm really not. What can I say? LITERALLY...what CAN I say? I don't want to say my life has gotten boring (come on now) but it's mainly been jam-packed with home improvements, painting, work, wedding shtuff (which I blather about somewhere else so you don't get all grossed-out from all the icky, sticky love involved), and sleeping. I'm sure I'll have more stories and hijinks to blather on about once Pussyfoot Girls get back in gear...and a visit from Lisa always has memory-creating potential. Like I said...life isn't boring...there's just a lot of routine setting in. Which is GOOD! My goal was to have around 60 paintings and framed drawings for my art show and I only have until August 7th! I NEED ROUTINE!

I'm sorry I'm boring you. I'm boring myself.

Paint myself in blue and red, black and gray.

I deserve a pat on the back, a cookie, a gold star. Something. I accomplished so much for my August art show this weekend. Not even this weekend. I accomplished so much in 24 hours. I'm pleased as punch. But I know myself...I work very well under the rewards system so pony up! It was probably the most I've accomplished since I found out the art show was a done deal. I had been majorly slacking. Not due to laziness. I wasn't motivated, I wasn't imspired. I COULD have sat down at my station and worked night after night but I would have produced garbage. I'm smart enough to admit that. Anyway, it felt good to make major progress on 4 paintings. It also felt good to get text messages saying "I miss watching you paint" and "I love your art". Boss, baby.

After a long lapse in hang time, I finally hooked up with Tom and Carol yesterday. Though it didn't go exactly like I thought...their car broke down on the way to the new CSU radio station. I personally kept warm by running my mouth at top speed about a bitch...THUG bitch...who needs to get her face high-fived by not only my fist but by the swift arm of the law, specifically dealing with child welfare. Grow up. You should've grown up the second you pissed on that stick and the plus sign popped up. I'm not in the mood to babble about why some people should buy puppies, not pop-out babies. This was about Tom and Carol FUN DAY!

So we waited for the tow truck and waited for Phoebe, a.k.a. Wonder Woman, to come to our rescue. After that, we were all too frozen and flabbergasted from the car debacle. We went to the jigsaw, ate soup and drank beer, trying to get toasty. I'm fairly certain that by the time we left, I was still frozen. And this may have been the first night in my entire life that I did NOT kick my socks off. It's going to be a lonnnnnnng winter. But it was so good to just CHILL with Tom and Carol. You never realize how much you miss people until you're with them again. I can't let the gap go that long again. It's not healthy.

Painting, chilling, debt paying...welcome to my winter.

I'm pink and black and blue for you.

This may very well end up being a mushy, lovey-dovey, "all about my fiancee" sort of blathering mess. So if you can't stand me having my pants romanced off in odd and somewhat deformed ways...take a hike or run for the hills, yo. Cause I'm feeling all dreamy and not at all grounded this morning. Though I also feel sort of sicky from having cookies for breaskfast. Maybe I'll vomit pink and red adorable heart shapes or something. Doubtful.

Todd rubbed his cologne on the neck of my hoodie and it's driving me an odd combination of batty and bananas today. I usually get all high school crushy on him based soley on his deoderant. Throw in cologne...I'm a puddle. I hope people don't think I
m sniffing my clothes to see if I stink. Because I don't. I smell delicious. God, I'm downright chipper! On a weekday!

Yesterday I tried on the potential wedding gowns for my folks but you can read about that nonsense on the wedding blog later. I'm just setting the stage. I was missed and missing while I was at the store so I was anxious to get home. I walked in to candles leading a path up the stairs and outloud I said, "Awww shucks". I was probably blushing too. I did not get romanced in previous relationships. Onward...I made it to the top of the stairs to find a nakie Weasel with a cocktail, a bathroom full of candles, and a hot shower. My days are really long and Todd feels bad that when I get home, it's late and dark. He was trying to relax me.

*MISSING REELS*

No one needs to hear about what happened there because you would eithee puke and die or wash your eyes out with soap. Neither of which I recommend. Just know that when I said I wanted to come home to that every day, he responded, "Any day you try on your wedding dress!!". He's as pumped as I am (that's NOT wedding talk...just wedding-inspired awesomeness). We're officially retarded for each other. So I got to take my burning hot shower alone...he can't take the heat...but we talked-n-talked-n-talked-n-talked. Life is good.

YOU HEAR ME??? Life is GOOD!

Here comes a dogfish chased by a catfish.

So not only am I engaged but...I have a dog??? Who would have thunk it? I have never been much of a dog person in general. I connect with weird dogs randomly. Always quirky dogs with issues and odd personalities. Which is similar to how I connect with my friends and people I've dated. I've been thinking about getting a dog for about a month or so and now...I'm a dog owner.

Actually...TODD is a dog owner.

Friday was Todd's 29th birthday and I wanted to make it memorable since he said he had never really celebrated a birthday. All around...I know I did a bad-ass job from start to finish and I heard him yacking on the phone to friends about how great the birthday had been and that was early on! Outside of what we did and what I planned (some of which got cancelled because my poor fella is sick sicky sick)...this is about the dog.

Todd has always had a dog around. And now that we're living together...there's no dog at the Ol' Kentucky Shark Corral. Everywhere we went where there was a dog, he make pals with it and talked about how if WE had a dog, he'd take care of it. Of course, in the back of my mind, I heard a little kid that claims they'll take care of their pet until it goes belly up. But I figured...if I picked out a dog that I liked...maybe it wouldn't be so bad having a mutt around.

And it's not bad at all!

I went to the APL and played with some of the dogs I had researched and they were all swell...until I met Holly. She was skiddish and nervous and jumpy and quirky and I was in love. She had an owner that got her as a pup and spent zero time with her. He was moving and so he surrendered her at 6 months old. I knew she was the one. I put a hold on her and ran out buying bones and treats and collars and leashes and bowls. I wrapped them all up with 2 pictures of Holly and he was SH-H-H-H-HOCKED! But a little uneasy.

Todd likes purebred dogs. And he wanted to know what other dogs were chillin' at the APL. I explained my logic on picking Holly and I think he agreed that my picking the dog would help me bond with it more. But we sort of dropped the dog subject for the rest of the night. The next thing I know, it's Saturday afternoon...I'm leaving David's Bridal with Phoebe (see wedding blog for an explaination on how I do NOT carry the bride gene) and Todd's leaving the APL with HOLLY!!! Yep. He fell in love with her just like I did.

And she's not that nervous and skiddish! She's just an awkward 6 month old pup that looks JUST like a coyote! She already has a favorite shark blanket, loves when we walk her, rocked her bone to bits, and has adjusted to sleeping in her kennel when we leave for brief periods of time. She has a dog bed in there and she's all about it! She likes sitting by the couch where mom is and she waits by the window when dad leaves. She's a good dog...with a new name.

They say when you rename a dog, you should give it a name that sounds like it's previous name. After Todd reading through every possible list of dog names or ethnic names or what have you...we decided to call her Shelby Nova (my pets have always had middle names). And Shelby seems to like her name just fine! I really can not believe I just spent all this time talking about our dog. Never in one million years!!!

We have a dog. Guess we're an American family now.

Come meet her. Little crazy coyote.

I said, "Listen here son, I got news for you!"

It was the end of an era this weekend. Sugar's last show with the Lords of the Highway. I have seen them more times than I can count (they even played twice in my basement) and they all became good pals. I've seen songs, drummers and even cowboy hats come and go over the years. I've seen them in a hand full of states, at a plethora of venues. It's hard for me to accept she's moving on. She's playing bass for Horror of 59 now and I'm interested to see what that's going to be like. I can only picture her and the upright playing Lords songs. I can only picture her being Sugar and not Rebecca. I even asked her...now that she's in Horror of 59...is she still Sugar? Sigh. But while I was sad to hear 23 songs for the last time, I was THRILLED to orgasmic proportions to get not one dedication ("Tiger In My Tank") but TWO ("County Fair"). Yeah, I'm Super Fan. Or I was...sigh.

So that's how Halloween went down. Todd and I dress up as Frankenstein and The Bride of and went to the Beachland to pay tribute to Sugar. It was so good to see Rocko, Jen, Jim, Grimm, The Shoe-Lanes...and Texas Pete dressed as a Tooth Fairy. He and I agreed that we will do a duet, karaoke-style, to a Bon Jovi song on New Year's Eve. Amazing. It was a bad-ass Halloween...my first one with Todd. Before the Beachland, we went to my parents' house and chowed down. Saw the little kids in their costumes. Chilled out for awhile. I was worried that due to the sickness that had been raping me, I wouldn't make it for maybe the first time EVER. But I showed my cold who's boss and had a great night.

And in the morning...well...anyone with a pulse knows I got engaged. And I started a NEW blog all about the wedding details. I'm basically doing that so I have something to look back on years down the line, so my wedding party bitches can stay abreast (tee hee) of any wedding developements, and so anyone who wants to be involved in the wedding stuff CAN BE and anyone who isn't so much interested can stay here and just listen to me blather about whatever floods my brain at any given time. If you want to know the blog address, just hit me up. And while I'm going to let The Cleveland A and My Space stay relatively wedding-free, I will say this...I am bananas about Todd and I can't wait to be his bride next year. There have been plenty of ups and downs but I wouldn't trade what I have with him for ANYTHING in the world.

Engaged. Holy cow.

This day...anything goes!

Happy Halloweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!!!

I still feel a little on the sickly side but I'm ignoring it because today is HALLOWEEN! And as the text message I received this morning read: BEST HALLOWEEN EVER! I've been told by the man of the house that even though I'm feeling slightly better, I still have to take it easy during tonight's festivities. And he's right. If I push myself, I'll get worse and I really can't handle that. I was having a hissy fit that my cold would ruin Todd's Halloween...but we agreed that we'll be happy as long as we're together.

So have fun doing whatever you're doing, boys and ghouls!

This day never seems to end.

I can't even believe this. I should believe it but I can't. It's not fair. I had a very brief window of feeling better-n-on the mend and that window slammed shut. I have brand new symptoms that include sneezing. Not just sneezing but sneezing with the force of a hurricane inside my skull! I am chugging water by the liter full...WATER! For me, that's like drinking bottled blood, I hate water so much. But I am so THIRSTY. I can not get control of my thirst and dehydration. My beak is raw and red and I am just MISERABLE (yet still adorable as all get out)! I did EVERYTHING I was supposed to. I took the stupid vitamins Todd forced on me. I drank water (a.k.a. bottled blood). I rested. I took the proper medicine at the proper times. I tried to eat decently. IT'S NOT FAIR!

Tomorrow is Halloween!!! If I have to stay home and boycott all Halloween plans...I will cry. I will cry ALL night. Actually, missing out is not even an option, at least for tomorrow. It's Sugar's LAST show. I have been Super Fan for like 7 years. I would never forgive myself if I missed the show and the opportunity to hear some of the old Sugar gems. And Yokels? This is probably my last opportunity to ever hear "Mean Little Doggie"! I have to go. Fuck. I'm so miserable. I can cross my fingers and pray that this is the end of it. That tomorrow by go time, I'll be ready. Because that's what I'm down to. The voo-doo options. Maybe I'll have to trade a costume for comfort. Double fuck.

I have to dress up. We're working so hard on our costumes and I NEVER get to wear a costume. In fact, the last 3 years have been a total bust because I was dating someone who was rotten and alienating all of my friends because of him and he was basically a fun hater. Everything has been so boss lately and I know Todd and I are going to have a great Halloween. And like I've said, almost EVERYONE I care about will be at the Beachland...even Jen, Rocko and maybe Tessa! I don't want to FINALLY have an opportunity for a bad-ass Halloween and be too sick to enjoy it. Maybe I can go to the doctor and get a B-12 shot or something. Get my ass in gear.

I got a text message from Todd saying he's hurting because I'm hurting and wishes he could take my pain away. That helps more than he could possible know. Please keep your fingers crossed that I don't end up as the undead on one of my favorite days of the year. It's been 14 days. I can't even believe this. Atthis rate, Johnny and I will NEVER get to see "Nick and Norah". Sigh.

Makes you think all the world's a sunny day.

Still sick. Eleven days and couting.

We cancelled our first PFG show in the 3.5 years we've been together. I feel like a total scumbag but it was beyond our control. I had considered the possibility on Thursday but felt SO scummy about it that I figured we'd just tuff it out. We're tuff cookies. But Christina and I got WORSE overnight. While Karen is one Hell of a fucking machine, she couldn't do the whole show by herself and she knew it was too much for us. We would've been total garbage. And as she said, "A sick Pussyfoot show is NO FUN". She was so understanding. I feel like I should buy her cookies or something. Rice. She likes rice. We hope Cedar's doesn't hold this against us because we love it there. I missed Hucklebucks. Cry. Pout. Moan.

But something AMAZING happened Friday.

I just can't say what it was. There isn't a name for it.

I have to stop thinking about it. Le sigh.

The rest of the weekend was pretty bare bones due to my illness. Couldn't even drag my sorry ass into work which my co-workers will thank me for. I did eat a steak and it was amazing. Everything tasted/smelled/sounded/felt/looked a little bit better on Friday. Besides me. I was a nasty, sick, hot mess. Saturday I painted...all day...and worked on my Plushform. I was productive. I was encouraged. But I'm pretty sure something was stabbing me abdominally from the inside. Happened again last night during an intense game of Yahtzee. Regardless...made art progress and house progress this weekend...AND saw what will forever be called "the peach blur" and loved it.

Halloween is Friday and since the last 2 Halloweens have been total nightmares for me (and not the fun Halloweeny kind of nightmares)...I'm really counting on the promise that "this year will be different". How could it not be awesome with what we have planned? And (almost) all of my favorite peeps will be in one place, swigging beer and rocking out! Yeah...Halloween is going to be mind blowing. I hope it blows my mind all over your face! BWAH HA HA HA HA HA!

Try to earn what lovers own.

I went on this date a few years ago and I declared it the best date I'd ever been. It was everything that a date SHOULD be. Nothing romantic. Nothing fancy. Just hell-rainsing and hysterics. And adorable hair-dos! I dated a different man for 3 years after that date (why Phoebe didn't kick me in the vagina with her boots and STOP ME from dating said "man", I will never know...could be the thick skull and stars in my eyes) and that date still held the title. It was still THEE best date I had ever been on.

NOT ANYMORE!!

I went on THEE best date of my entire life last night. I shouldn't have been running amuck and dating at ALL in my sickly condition...and yes, the date WAS with my boyfriend but is there a LAW that says you can't go on dates with your boyfriend? I had a miserable, pathetic, raincloud hovering over my head all day. This raincloud was on the rag, major. And I was being a total hot crotch, I know this. But I took the high road and decided to turn my day around. There was only ONE THING I wanted to do and Todd was completely on board.

We went to Dave and Buster's!

I thought that we were going to have a child companion but it turned out to be just the future Mr. and Mrs. so we got to crank the rating up from G to PG-13. And when I say everything was perfect...everything WAS. This is NOT an exaggeration. The drive there was boss. The walk in was boss. Filling our cards up was boss. Walking in was boss. We had big, frosty, delicious Happy Hour priced beers. We both did these ridiculously delish shots. Our appetizer fried were mind-blowing. I HAD THE BEST SANDWICH I'VE EVER HAD! Sure, I didn't annihilate him at hoops like I talked so much shit about doing but I did flip lids with my domination of Raptor Captor! I was even told that if I could buy a ring (even a plastic number) with our combined tickets, I'd be an engaged woman right now. Outside of slicing my finger open and spurting blood the whole way home...BEST DATE EVER.

Maybe it just seems like we drank, ate, and goofed off...but it was the goofing off that turned my day around. We had a blast together like we were 2 high school kids. We flirted and smooched and...goofed off. We toasted giant beers to my bad day! It was exactly the medicine I needed to put the stomp on my boo-hooing. I am capable of turning bad days around. I usually don't believe in the power of positive thinking but it really came through for me yesterday. And Todd came through with his "ready for anything" attitude. I can't really capture in words what made it such a fun and amazing night. I just felt more at ease and stress free than I have in weeks. Which is pretty damn cool.

Best date ever. Hands down.

Come on and show me how you work.

HAPPY 400TH POST, CLEVELAND A!

Fuck having a cold. And having all your muscles ache and your stomach do flips and your head pound. Fuck congestion and coughing and sore throats. Fuck not being able to sleep and looking at the clock every 30 MINUTES! And super fuck feeling like there's a fishbowl inside your head when you know you have a ten hour work day ahead of you PLUS an art project that's due by the week. FUCK all of THAT. I really don't mean to be a potty mouth. I miss my bed and my snuggle bug. F!!!

Yesterday we're cruising from Todd's parents house to my house. Sorry. OUR house formerly known as MY house. The kid now knows that he's moving in to Ol' Kentucky Shark territory and he's pumped, or so I hear. Back to cruising. The kid is desperately trying to get his dad's attention and he says, "Dad...is Lacey going to be my step-mom?". And Todd said, "Yes she is". I, of course, told the child that I would be no one's step-mom until I had a diamond on my digit. Todd said maybe he's take him along to pick it out. I warned him not to pick anything hideous. It was a really funny family-ish moment. Oh...after learning that I'd be his step-mom one day, he said "YEA!!!". I predicted confusion, upset, possibly blood and tears. This reaction was far more satisfactory. Things are falling into place and I LIKE IT.

What I DON'T like is living so far from Rebecky.

Becky thinks that she's boring because any time anyone comes to visit, they fall asleep. It is NOT due to boredom in the least. I think people just feel so comfortable around her and in her home...and she treats everyone so well...pumps us full of beer and food and love. It's hard not to feel at ease. And when you feel at ease...you fall asleep. And you sleep through the WHOLE night! Then you come back home and you can't sleep and...you miss Becky. Le sigh.

I could keep blathering about how I have to finish my Plushform, work on my martini girl painting, work on "the love chamber" before the shelves get put up, finishing "Taste Like Poison" before practice...and I could rattle on about how bananas I am for Todd because I'm really bananas about him at this moment it time. But I have a cold or flu or some sort of malady and I think my stomach wants to expel it's insides...which consist of M&Ms and cough syrup. So I'm going to ditch and mope until I can get back into my cocoon/burrito.

This remedy has got to me.

I threw up at work today! For no reason at all! I'm not hungover because I only has 2.5 beers on my date with Phoebe. Didn't eat anything fishy that would make me squirrely...didn't eat too much at all. Maybe I have a parasite. And by "parasite", I do NOT mean "something that will become someone that will be dependent on me until they are 18". Maybe it's a tape worm. Todd asked me last night if I had lost weight. I have but not enough that I thought anyone would notice. Maybe it IS a tapeworm. Or maybe it's this cold/flu that's been raping everyone around town. Maybe it's coming for me next! Either way, I felt better for a hot minute and now I'm back to feeling sea-sick. I wonder if a Snickers will help?

Leaving to see Becky in 24 hours. Psyched...NOW!

Oh...that stress I had yesterday? Todd saved the day.

I am not exaggerating in the least when I say it feels like my intestines are trying to pull a Mexican Surfboard with my stomach. I honestly may throw up the Snickers I just ate. This is SO unfair! That's 50 cents I'm getting ready to flush. Grrrrrrr.

I'm just looking for that home stretch.

I feel fucking sick to my stomach today. Parasite sick. Morning sickness sick. I feel like there's a fishbowl in my head and any second, if you look into my eyes, you'll see a fishy swimming past. I'm not sick or ill or lethargic. I'm not hungover. I'm not being dramatic. I'm NERVOUS. I'm chock full of nerves. I'm in a panic and it's honestly making me physically ill. I don't want to talk about the gorey details because I will either cry (which I vowed to stop doing) or throw up (which wouldn't be very appropriate at this moment). I just want to solve my problem so I can stop holding my breath and function normally! I'm a wreck. This is so bad. I haven't been in this kind of fucked up situation in a long time. It's embarrassing. And sickening, clearly.

Regardless of my little black rain cloud...

I got a lot off my chest yesterday...but don't worry. There as plush and bountiful as ever. A lot of things I had to say, I said. Things I HAD to say. You can only keep things bottled up for so long before the bottle breaks, despite what Counter Clockweyes thinks. And sometimes it's hard to MAKE a person sit down and listen to you, especially if it's an adult...an adult that might be hurt by things you have to say. But if it's important...you make it happen. I made it happen. Relieving that stress made room for new stress (ex. little black rain cloud situation). I hate the phrase "we have to talk". It's just flat out gross. But I guess in real, grown-up relationships...you have to talk sometimes. And sometimes what you say opens someone else's eyes. So...I feel good about that. I'm glad I talked. I'm glad I was listened to. I'm just fucking glad all over.

I'm also glad that Todd and I are going to Columbus this weekend. Not to sound like a hippie or all wishy-washy...but Becky is a very calming presence in my life. I think we fought TWICE and both times it was over something stupid and while we weren't speaking, I felt like one of my limbs had been ripped off by a dinosaur. Anyway, I've been ultimately stressed out ever since my surgery. I haven't been sleeping. I haven't been productive. I haven't been very emotionally awesome. Becky is the most awesome person I know so she's probably the person that can snap me out of this non-awesome state I'm currently existing in. Todd helps too. He snuggles the non-awesomeness out of me. And I'm glad he gets to spend some time with Becky. She's the other love of my life. This sugary dose of sappiness is not helping my stomach distress. Blech! Over.

It's Lacey/Phoebe Date Night tonight and she said the beers are on her. That was music to my ears since I have $5 in my wallet that I'm saving for some sort of horrific emergency taht will no doubt come my way. Though $5 COULD get me 3 beers at our new hangout. Isn't that amazing? Amazing. I love the world we live in...or at least the cheap beer part of it. I do not love how filthy I currently feel so I need to schedule some sort of hosing off period before hang-time. I know Phoebe loves my filth but everyone has a limit.

I like Ben and Johnny using the phrase "tasties". I wish I could.

If you kiss me mister, you must think I'm pretty.

Fiddlesticks!

Todd and I both agree that last night was the WORST sleeping experience we've ever had. We could NOT sleep. We could snuggle...we just couldn't SLEEP. And it's not like we got a few hours and are just bitching. We didn't sleep...period. When I turned, he turned. When he turned, I turned. We looked at the clock every 20 minutes. I was hot and fussy and his legs and feet hurt. We were generally uncomfortable. We were also generally hungover most of the day. I had to pull the trigger. His stomach was in knots. The hangovers and gone but the exhaustion is hanging on for dear life. Todd and I have a toasty warm coma planned post-work and I couldn't be more psyched.

I just got a text asking, "Is it Lacey O'Clock yet?". Sigh.

Oh! NEWS! My art show...tentatively titled "Cannibalicious"...thanks Tom...will run at Low Life Gallery from August 7th to August 31st. There will be a Friday night opening reception thing-a-ma-jig and I expect you all to be there and looking hot. Even mommy dearest said she'll be there. Todd says at the rate I'm going, I'll have 2 paintings and he's right. I didn't paint at ALL this weekend. And there's mandatory overtime this week (trust me...I can use the scratch) so I can't devote my entire Friday to painting. I need to get back on track. I want 50 to 60 pieces so I need to buckle the fuck down. But first...I need to get some sleep. And I can't. Any suggestions?

This weekend was fun and productive in other ways so I have no regrets about not painting. It was fun and productive and smutty. LOTS of smut. In fact, there's a funny story about our smuttiness but it's on good, ol' My Space for my nearest and dearest to read and get sickened by. Fun and productive and smutty...the story of my life! I can't focus on this anymore. I need the caffeine to kick in before the wit and wonder does.

I would gladly bet my life upon it.

Yesterday, after careful consideration, I decided that I will get lyrics from "Alec Eiffel" tattooed on me somewhere. Probably my ribs. I mean, after getting a gassy skunk drilled in my armpit, everything else will be a piece of cake, right? Easy as pie?

I've been listening to the song a lot over the last few years and more than ever it's started to mean something to me (feelings, emotions, personal meaning...gross). People didn't want Eiffel to build the tower, they didn't understand his vision, they didn't understand why it had to be so large. And now...people travel from all over the stupid world just to see it.

"They didn't want it but he built it anyway". Sometimes you have to do what you set out to do...be who you are...even if no one backs you up. I know I said I didn't want meaning in any of my tattoos (just gut-busting humor and nuttiness) but it just fits. Bravo, Alexander.

I've decided that in addition to "The Organ Diners" and a few random "I felt like painting this particular nonsense", I'm going to do an additional collection based on the Disney princesses. A little sluttier and bloodier, of course. They'll go along with the overall creepy and kooky style of "The Organ Diners"...just a little less cartoony. There will be boobies for sure so don't think little Suzie is getting a portrait of Cinderella for her bedroom. Snow White, Ariel, Cinderella...those are on the top of my list right now. Suggestions? Hit me.

Phoebe is going with me to the gallery tonight to nail down a date for a solo show. I couldn't be more pumped. And nervous for some reason. Once I have the dates, I can plan out how many paintings I need to have a full show and how much time I can afford to spend on each. On the flip side...once I have dates...it's official. And what if my show is a failure? What if I don't sell even ONE piece??? My tummy is rumbley. Good thing I have Phoebe to talk me off the ledge.

In her honor, I smell like a waffle today.

Tomorrow starts a long weekend but it will probably be anything but chillaxing. We need groceries. We need to go to the dreaded Home Depot (dreaded because I hate the smell of lumber) because I need bedroom shelves. We need to sort out everything we can so it can make it out on trash day. Stuff I don't need must move out so stuff he must have can move in. There's a lot to be done. PLUS...as much painting as possible! I have a feeling we'll secretly be drinking margaritas out giant skull cups.

That's how we roll.

I close my eyes to see your determined face.

I just made the sign of the cross. And not at all in a mocking way. Sheeesh.

Right now, at this very moment, Todd is taking his CDL test and I am a wr-r-r-r-reck. I keep catching myself holding my breath and focus is out the window! I'm trying to be patient and positive but I am on edge and have all my fingers and toes crossed. I have total faith that he can pass the test and I've tried to be encouraging. I've just known a lot of guys who have failed...mostly do to the pre-trip inspection...but he knows his shtuff. I don't want him to fail. Not because I'll think of him as a failure because I would NOT. Last night we were rocking some Yahtzee and he asked me if I'd be proud of him if he passed. That's why I want him to...I want him to be proud of himself. ARGH! I just want word. Pass? Fail? WHAT!?!?!

I said I'd bake him a cake if he passed. I'll bake one regardless.

I was already to blog on about some troubling news I received which kept me up ALL night but I'm just too mentally exhausted from thinking about it and too amped from waiting for NEWS! Yesterday should have been a good day...Todd moved in a whole car-load of stuff! Cohabitating is truckin' right along! But all that excitement and awesomeness was just squashed by the big foot of reality. I feel like a fuck-up today. But I'll set it straight. I always do. My ulcer is going to be soooo big and amazing, I can just feel it in my bones. And in my stomach lining.

I have both Veruca Salt and Belly simultaneously playing in my skull.

I think I am going to resurrect my "Picture Of The Day" blog in order to entertain Potsie Shark-Pants, which I feel is my mission in life. I'm just not sure if I want to post a picture/pictures that I take on a daily basis or if I just want to post any picture from my collection (it's a big and entertaining collection that will blow your mind all over your face). I'm hesitant to post a picture that I take every day because what if nothing happens? Do you really want to look at a picture of my foot? And do I want to make them black-n-white like I did last time? Oh the options are overwhelming!! I do NOT need this stress right now!

Skunk...OUT!

Cause you're so good so far.

If you missed Family Guy on Sunday, go murder yourself NOW!

We managed to jam-pack a lot of fun, activity and adventure into one tiny and compact weekend so of course, my back is sore, my head aches, my legs feel like lead, and I'm bleeding vaginally. But that last one is a more than welcome ailment. Way to go, Nature!

The Halloween Spooktacular opening at Low Life was more than I could have hoped for. The gallery is nifty and intimate. And all the Halloween/horror/creepy art made me feel right at home. And alright, so I was nervous about how my painting would stand up to the rest of the bunch. An e-mail from the owner telling me he loved it and it anchored a wall nicely helped. Phoebe saying EVERYTHING she said pre/during/post-show helped. Seeing it on the wall from the street helped. Seeing people point at it and say they loved it helped. I'm pround of myself. Now hopefully it sells!

I want a solo show at Low Life more than ANYTHING now and am currently working on that. Everyone's eyes and ears and vaginas will be bleeding once I find out for sure. It will be plastered everywhere and I'll probably be buried alive so I shut up about it. I can handle it. I'm one tuff cookie. Regardless...stay tuned. And on that note, thanks to Todd, Tom and Carol, and Johnny for coming to the opening night reception and being all sexy and supportive. A special thanks to Carol for bringing those BOOBS! And an extra-special thanks to Phoebe for bringing painting back into my life. Filled a major void. I love you and would one day like to cover you in paint. But we can discuss that in private.

Then there was the campout...

The campout was an amazing amount of fun, per usual. We set up camp (Camp Coolsville, I'll call it) and the fellas went fishing. 8 fish in a row (some repeat offenders). There was a scavenger hunt for the kiddies. There was yummy food. There were bad-ass pumpkins. There was a Haunted Forest. There was a romantic/creepy moonlight snuggle by the pond. There were S'Mores. There was my new favorite photo...of Todd and Molly fake burping. And then there was sleeping...and freezing...and my ass turning into an ice-block. But we survived and had fun together. We'll all be back next time. I'll be 31 next time. Eek!

Oh, Talladega? GO SMOKE!

Camping is exhausting so Sunday was lazy. We did make an extensive list of things we want to do around the Ol' Kentucky homestead to make it better-n-brighter-n-more kick-ass (if that's at all possible). It's going from mine to ours and I'm proud to say that we've been accomplishing a lot lately. Like real, live, responsible grown ups! Who knew we had it in us???

Go to Low Life! See my painting! Up until November 3rd!

It's the new sensation and it's here to stay.

Get out of your comas, dust off your lazy bones, put on some pants and celebrate October, and more importantly, HALLOWEEN! Where can you do this so early in the month, ghouls-n-boys? At the Halloween Spooktacular: a group artist show at Low Life Gallery on Waterloo Rd. in Cleveland.

Beachland Ballroom, Music Saves, Shoparooni, and...Low Life! You know how to get there and you KNOW you want to support all things local. So put down that whiskey bottle and stop beating your wife. Come to the Halloween Spooktacular and spend some money on local, Halloween-themed art. The lovely Phoebe Marie has 6 Halloween Dunnys in the show and I have one painting titled "Wasted Life With Disastrous Results" (I was a late entry...thanks Dave...and am not on the flyer). Many (if not all???) works are priced for sale.

And even if you don't buy anything (cheapskates), you can admire it. In FACT you can admire it from tonight through November 3rd. But tonight is the opening reception...from 7:00 to 10:00... so why put it off? I know I'll be there. So be there.

When you're around me...I'm somebody else.

I hate Pink Floyd. And Rush. I hate, HATE Rush. It doesn't matter to me if your drum kit has 23 pieces or whatever. If your band is downright awful, no amount of drum kit options are going to help you escape from life in Suckville or Misery Town.

So where was I at 8:00p last night? Sleeping off the sleeping pill that I took to help me sleep Tuesday night! That little, tiny bastard was a MACHINE! It lasted 24 exhausting hours and made me feel like one of those coma victims that can hear everything going on around them but can't react!!

I once knew a girl who contracted some disease after being chomped by a mosquito and it out her into a coma for 2 weeks. She could hear everyone talking to her at all times, being encouraged to do so by her doctor. She said she just wanted to SCREAM for them to shut the Hell up! When she finally came out of the coma, she had trouble controlling the speed of her speech. That was me yesterday. Mosquito bite-enduced coma victim.

"Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist" has so much potential to rock my drawers off, that it will probably suck the will to live out of me. I should stopped getting psyched about it right now and spare myself the disappointment. I'd see it Friday after the art show and get it over with if I wasn't in the red right now. Probably for the best.

Watched half of the "Sex and The City" movie last night...again. Saw it in theaters with Phoebe but wasn't paying much attention. It was the night after a fight via text...and I would learn until later what ELSE was going on that night. Regardless, watching it at home, in my bed, in the dark, in a foul mood...the scene where Carrie learns that Big isn't coming to the wedding...I wanted to roll over and throw up. It's sad. I don't want to be left at the alter...or at the library, which is where Carrie was. But with my luck...

My mood? Still rancid. Thanks.

You'll never get another fix.

"Blather, kill, rot, kill, die, die. Die! Die! Die!"

The above, verbally heavy sentence was brought to you by my mood, which was hopefully brought to you by my forthcoming period. I say "hopefully" because with the luck I've had recently, well, fingers-n-toes-n-eyes are crossed that nothing (or no one) is growing where it shouldn't be! But like I said, with the luck I've had recently...rot.

My mood can only be labled as "suck-o". I haven't slept a good night's sleep in weeks now. Even with the assistance of sleeping pills. And speaking of sleeping pills, this little bastard does NOT want to leave my system! Since I shuffled into the can this morning, I've been asleep with my eyes opened. I feel drugged, which I guess I am. But should I still feel like a non-action slug almost 19 hours later?? Was that pill meant to enduce a COMA?! Doing things zombie-style leads to many mistakes. Many mistakes lead to today feeling like "Groundhog's Day". I'm irritable. A bright yellow catalog on my desk is taunting me. I may set it on fire. I may set YOU on fire.

Oh money? Yeah, totally at odds with that stupid shit.

The Halloween Spooktacular opens at Low Life Gallery on Waterloo (by The Beachland Ballroom and Shopparooni) this Friday. The pre-Halloween party is from 6-10p. I have one piece in it that is tentatively called "Girl With Wasted Life Eats Own Stomach With Disastrous Results". I'm sure it's not the most mind-blowing thing you'll even see but I didn't paint it to be artsy. I painted it to make myself laugh. And I did. Case closed. Hope to see some of your smiling faces on Friday but if you're too cool for art show receptions, the show runs through November 2nd. I only have one piece in the show so I'm sure no one will die if they don't see it. I pretyy much guarantee they won't.

I'll be coming for your love anyway.

Remember how I questioned feeling old because I was so psyched about getting new appliances? Like I was Little Betty Home-Maker? Well...you should have seen me yesterday when we went to Target together and picked out curtains, hung the curtains, and admired the curtains!!!Psyched...and elderly. But hey, if we're both pumped about said curtains and it made us both happy for a moment in time, I don't care how old I felt. We're being hermits. We're nesting. We're building a life together...and that life included picking out curtains. I bet the neighbors are thrilled!! *blush*

I finished my first painting...an improved version of the chick eating her own stomach. It's at the gallery waiting for the Halloween Spooktacular to open. Todd and I both agreed that it was kind of sad to look at the easel and have it be empty. Sigh. It may not have been my BEST painting but it certainly wasn't my worst. And most importantly, it made me laugh. It turned out pretty much how I imagined it would and I worked very hard. Might have put a little too much pressure on myself but because I did, I accomplished what I set out to do. I'm going to give myself a high five...no matter how awkward that might look.

In other artsy news, Phoebe, my biggest supporter and chill companion, sponsored me to paint a Plushform for some benefit they're doing at Shopparoni (50% of profits go to some children's charity...I know it has "ninjas" in the title so what could be cooler?). I am so super psyched. It was such a sweet thing for her to do. Not sure exactly what I'm going to do with my Plushform. My mind is all about skunks these days (oh armpit skunk...with all the overtime Im clocking, you're destined to be mine...after the bills are paid, of course). We'll see, I guess. It's just another awesome thing for me to do while being a hermit/nesting. I'm getting my art on, Todd's doing home improvements. Love it. Hardcore.

Made my first lasagna yesterday. Total hit. NESTING!

So that's pretty much all I had to jaw about. Good, solid weekend. Celebrated Tom and Carol's 14th wedding anniversary on Friday by drinking beer out of a plastic boot and eating killer bar food. Hit a family function (at Winking Lizard...boss) on Saturday, watched a really MESSED UP movie that I didn't want to watch (I almost pouted) and ended up liking. Got up early on Sunday and accomplished SO MUCH (painting, cleaning, laundry, dishes, shopping)! Feels good deep down in my core...especially when I got 2 new Moofia!! Watched cartoons and crashed. THE END.

Enjoy your Monday. If that's even possible.

Someone to die for you and more.

I've been asking everyone if they have their periods. Today rots.

I'm crabby. I'm fussy. I'm irritable. Everything about me, inside-n-out, is in knots. Fed up, fucked off, what have you. I didn't sleep well last night or the night before and at this very second, I'm at the end of my rope and might tie it in a knot and slip it over my head. I hate today and I have far too much to do to be exhausted and surly and amped, OH MY! And this beautiful mood I'm in seems to be the norm for people today. Awesome. A world full of suck-o.

I wish I had a new Moofia. Or a smorkin' something-or-other. Rad.

As soon as I clock out...get ready for the ramble...I have to ditch this place, truck to Anna Banana's to get skunkier and chill with my girlfriend, Phoene Jeans, rush home, paint like a mothertruckin' maniac, and TRY to stay awake for the (2 hour) season premier of Gray's Anatomy, only to have to catch some ZZZZZZs in order to haul ass in for some overtime. I'm exhausted all ready and that's really burning my toast. Exhaustion iced with psychotic business does NOT make for a tasty treat.

Y entonces mañana...

The madness starts all over again, still built on an ever-growing foundation of exhaustion. Put in some overtime so we can have luxuries like cable and ice-cream, rush to the homestead (after a pit stop for the weekly anniversary card), paint like a mothertruckin' maniac BEFORE I have to head out for a cozy little event. I'll probably fall asleep in my chicken fingers and big beers. Don't let me drown.

After a quick and painless family functiony thing-a-majig, I can crash. I am looking forward to that crash like nobody's business and I plan to crash Dale Earnhardt-style. Consider me dead to the world. God, that sounds so good right now that I'm on the verge of a vag-quake! Pajamas, pillows, mindless entertainment that allows me to turn off my brain until the race (or maybe football?) on Sunday.

Maybe none of this seems like THAT big of a deal but along with all the other things driving me crazy-bananas (which I don't feel like sharing)...I'm worked over from head to toe. I'm stressing about my painting. I'm stressing about running all over like a chicken with my heart cut off. I'm stressing about reaching my limit with a lot of things. I don't really feel like emploding this week.

I don't feel like having heartburn either.

I just need a break from dealing with bullshit. Yesterday Todd mentioned how nice it would be to have a hotel room (we're both big fans) with a hot tub/whirlpool and to just reeeeeeeelax. But who can afford that right now? I said all we can afford is out "nest" at home since it's free...and there's no hot tub/whirlpool in our nest. The sweet suggestions only temporarily ease the stress of running on go. I want to just quit on everything and everyone...but I have to "give up on giving up"...even if some peopel around me gave up long ago. I feel like Atlas.

I'm taking a temporary dive. Me and my scummy mouth.

Hope my boyfriend don't mind it.

I was all set to have "Bruises" by Chairlift be my new jam. I am sad to say that I am embarrassed I bought it off I-tunes. I thought it had such potential when I heard it on the Ipod commercial. It was through those little snipets that I fell in love with "Flathead" by The Fratellis and "1, 2, 3, 4" by Feist. Both gems. But not this torture device. It's so sugary-sweet and lovely and I must erase it from my brain, even if that involves a blowtorch or some sort of drilling mechanism. Heavy duty sand paper or polishing stones?

My new jam is "I Kissed a Girl" by Katy Perry.

I downloaded it this morning...never heard the tune before but heard the hype all summer. Summer's over. Time for me to catch up. So I played it. Then I played it again. And again. And again! And now it's playing in my brain. I mean, it's not the most lyrically stunning song I've ever heard...but it's a total jam! It made me want to dance like a m-m-m-maniac. But it probably wouldn't have been very safe for me to do that behind the wheel. Listening to "I Kissed a Girl" was alot like when I heard "Since You've Been Gone" for the first time. Stunning. I expecting it to be so bubblegum and silly. But with her deep voice and the overall thumping...total jam.

Dating Phoebe for a bit after work. Be jealous.

So come at me with mouth open wide.

I got up on the wrong side of the bed, without a doubt.

I'm in an evil, nasty, creepy, rotten, little mood that is just bubbling up and pulsating and festering and throbbing and whatever else it can do that would be deemed repulsive. It started last night and hung on mercilessly. Didn't have such a rockin' good work day which was irritating so I was looking forward to some promised and anticiapted relaxing shower time which would have been just DREAMY. Then stupid life stepped in.

I got stung by a BEE! For the first time!!!

I was trucking along, glad to be heading home to a boyfriend (who had done all sorts of sweet boyfriend things at our digs) and felt this drilling in my arm. I thought maybe a steel shaving weaseled it's way into my hoodie. NO SUCH LUCK! That little honey sucked was already on it's way to Deadsville and I was wounded. I squashed it while driving recklessly and immediately starting flipping. It wasn't as bad as I had always imagined a bee-sting, but it was still BAD! And I complained. A lot. Boo.

Something sweet happened via text message. My heart smiled.

AND THEN IT FROWNED! Pffffffffft! Regardless.

So the main squeeze and I trucked to my nephew's for a little Mustang repair and I ended up getting my feeling squashed like a rotten tomato, which I was not expecting. Not by my fella. Not by my nephew. No details...just know my feelings are now mushy tomatos on the sidewalk! Todd held my hand the whole ride and just let me stew and hurt quietly. He asked me if I wanted to snuggle when we got home, knowing that would ease my bumps-n-bruises. Appreciated, to say the very least. But I slept like utter GARBAGE. So now...

...I'm in an evil, nasty, creepy, rotten, little mood!

I am officially not a fan of Mondays. Or of "feelings". OR BEES! I'm going to cook dinner for Todd to make up for our not getting relaxing shower time due to my surly mood. It will at least make me feel a little bit better if I can do something nice for him. And anything that will make me feel a little bit better is way welcome in my book. Look, I know this will all passed. So my feelings got hurt. Big deal. And there are things to look forward to this week...a yummy lunch, playing housewife, chill time with Phee-Bizzle, PFG practice, a skunk stripe appointment, an anniversary celebration...there are things to be psyched about. I'm just not psyched right NOW.

And I shall plan my revenge against the Cleveland bees.

Make everyone wonder what's going on.

September is almost over? Time BOOKS!

My new favorite thing on this planet is to be in what Todd calls "a nest". Directions: we take all the back cushions off the couch, bring our comforter and pillows downstairs, and get in serious snuggle-mode while watching a movie. He called it "our nuptial nest" last night as we watched 20 minutes of "Cecil B. Demented" and 20 minutes of "Elvira: Mistress Of the Dark". It may sound sappy and not that inventive, but it was a gnarly way to tie up a pretty gnarly weekend. Gnarly. I should have used "rad".

Before I recap the havoc, let me tell you that when my sleeve is done (alllllllllmost), I am going to get a gassy skunk tattooed in my armpit. It's getting rave reviews from the people cool enough to matter and I truly believe it will be my crowning jewel. Stick around!

I'm having the hardest time remembering what we did on Friday because I am mentally-n-physically beat. I'm pretty sure we sat around and shot the breeze while I painted canvas backgrounds...6 are done and ready to be rocked! Oh wait...it's all coming back to me! And it's X-RATED! My sexy new appliances came! Am I old for being psyched? I don't care. We went to da sto' and filled the new fridge/freezer up with goodies and were so super psyched that we just had to rip our clothes off right there in the kitchen! Hubba hubba! Yeah...Friday was good stuff.

I was laying on the couch like a spazz on Saturday and Todd said, "Do you want to paint?". I can't tell you how much it means to me to FINALLY have a dude in my life that supports my painting and tried to beinvolved! *purr* We trucked to the store and he bought me more canvases (and a groom rubber duckie cause my bride was lonely)...then I painted backgrounds as he painted the anchor table he had been obsessing over while we jammed some tunes. Everything felt jusssssst right for a moment. Goldilocks would have been pleased.

Saturday night we hit Roc Bar to see Miss Firecracker One Woman Band and Cult of the Psychic Fetus. Bad ass. They played all my favorite jams and I rocked out...even after a homosexual couple decided I looked like a more bad-ass (am I overusing that?), saucy, young, tattooed, Democratic version of Sarah Palin. Whatever. I don't see it. But as Carol would say (in an adorable squeaky voice), "I can see Russia from my house!"

Interjection: I hate that stupid "little pink houses" songs by John Cougar Melloncamp. It should just be destroyed. It is the song I dread hearing most throughout my work day. Vom. Now back to my babble.

Sunday was the best day of my weekend, which is rarely true since Becky moved away.

Speaking of Becky, Johnny asked me when we were going to roadtrip to C-Bus to see you. We have a list of songs we're going to jam the whole way there. We miss you painfully. Now back to Sunday.

We woke up early and...well...*blush*. Then we woke up AGAIN perty late and really had to rally. I love that term, "rally". Aiden came over, I cooked homemade veggie soup, we watched the race, Aiden played with a group of neighborhood kids, we vegged out and watched football, I cooked chicken paprikash and my first time was a decent success. I felt like a mini-family when the neighbor kids came knocking on the door asking if Aiden could come back out. It was a good day. It ended with "a nest".

Oh, today? Today was Katie's first day back at The Coast. Every time she was in my line of sight, giddiness took over. I'm so pumped she's back where she belongs, sporting brightly colored red-n-purple hair. I was informed that now that she and her 'do are back, I better step it up. And I'll do just that by getting my forehead tattooed. Oh SNAP!

I'm in a good mood today. Don't wreck it.

You begin to wonder why you came.

I want to talk/blog/whatever. I can feel words-n-thoughts trying to come out. I'm having a hard time gathering it all up and wrapping my brain around what I want to talk about. Confusing? I have a lot on my mind and didn't get a lot of sleep last night, to be honest. And when I did sleep, I did not have the most comforting dreams. And there were a boatload. Dream after dream after dream during my broken sleep. I'm exhausted. I'm not going to get into what's bugging me to the point of sleeplessness. I just wrote the longest e-mail in the history of e-mails regarding it. So...it's sort of out of my system. Today is just a weird day.

I like my hands. They're small and slender but have big plans.

Pussyfoot Girls were asked to be on the bill for a pretty rad show in October and I'm super-psyched. Put this on your calendar. Mark it in blood. The Pussyfoot Girls, Bob's Country Bunker, Whiskey Daredevils, Legendary Hucklebucks AND MORE! If that doesn't sound like a recipe for fun, I don't know what does. We have a lot of work to do. We need new songs and we need to tighten up. This is our only chance to have a Halloween/October show since The Sac is sort of on hiatus. We hope to be back to doing shows soon but for now...PFG need to spread the joy to other venues and cities. And we're spreading our joy, amoung other things, at Cedar's in Youngstown on October 24th. You've be warned.

Unholy and dirty words I gathered to me.

Sick of reading about painting? Your wrists need slit. Scram.

I'm submitting a painting...to the gallery I'm hoping to get a show at...for their Halloween exhibition. I'm totally pumped AND super-psyched so you just KNOW I'm foaming at the mouth with excitement. I got in touch yesterday and he said there was still room for a submission. So yours truly is IN! Now hold your horses...I have to deliver it to the gallery NO LATER than the 27th. That doesn't give me a lot of time but I am focused and determined. I feel good about it. I feel just like I would if...nevermind. Gutter mouth. Filthy brain.

Todd wants to help somehow with the potential gallery show collection. He said he wants to be involved with my painting "to an extent of course". I think that it incredibly cool...especially since my co-stars in my 3 previous big relationships didn't want to be involved in pretty much any aspect of my life. Not having support can be practically heart breaking. But I've got it. And that's damn cool.

I want "HIGH FIVE" on my knuckles. I should just do it.

So, in my quest to take on all the positive aspects of Phoebe's being, I'm all abotu the blind box toys. I'm collecting these things called Moofia now which are adorable little milks...rice, soy, chocolate, strawberry, half-n-half...I'm in love. I'm trying not to let my obsession get too out of hand...maybe just pick one up when I'm at the comic book shop with Phee. I was NOT going to start looking at toys on line. I WASN'T! Then I did. And when I thought a smoking rabbit (I refuse to call it a smorkin' labbit or whatever) riding a slug was the most amazing thing ever, I was wrong. A SMOKING RABBIT WEARING SOME SORT OF "CLASH OF THE TITANS" HELMET RIDING A SLUG IS THE MOST AMAZING THING EVER. Gotta have it. WILL have it. Damn it! I just found a mini-smokig rabbit that's customized to look like a shark. Whadda buncha bullshit.

Recent text from my neph: "Gotta have boats and hoes". So true.

I wish I wasn't do exhausted to the point where I feel like I'm asleep with my eyes open today. I wish that my lunch was sitting a little more still in my tummy right now. I wish I didn't equate the term "low life" with the term "scum bag". I wish my background was done so I could get right to the meat of my painting. I wish Hugh Hefner would drop Kendra and marry Holly (rumor is Kendra will be out soon...thank sweet Zombie Jesus). I wish I had a smoking rabbit wearing a "Clash of the Titans" helmet and riding a slug. I wish good people in my life would stop getting the shaft. I wish "What a Fool Believes" was not on the radio anymore. I wish it was 5:45p tomorrow so Phoebe and I could slam some beers. I wish I could get what I needed without screaming for it all the time. I wish the Pushing Daisies season one box set would appear on my steps so I wouldn't have to go get it. I wish I was done typing because machine gun fingers are exhausting.

ONE DOWN!

Art is why I get up in the morning.

I used Ani DiFranco as my song quote? That leaves a very bitter taste in my mouth. Something closely resembling bile. Or murder. Yes, my mouth tastes like murder from using that quote. How did I ever like her and/or respect her a musician? I did think she was utterly adorable for a cool minute. Regardless. Ick. And the quote is just so...stated. I'm regretting my choice. However, I am not changing it since I blathered this entire paragraph. What a sham.

There was a PFG show Friday. That's all I got there.

I did buy the best shoes I've ever owned Friday.

Saturday was like a major vagina injection. I'm not sure what that means. What I mean to say is that I spent a lot of time with someone jam-packed with estrogen...Phee-Bizzle...and we did girly stuff...practiced making-out and read Teen Beat. OR...we actually went to The Melting Pot and had expensive cocktails before 1:00pm. Then we went to Crate & Barrel where I ALWAYS announce how clumsy I am since EVERYTHING is breakable, bought a silver skeleton hand at Z Gallerie, hit Shoparooni where I bought a stuffed moustache WITH IT'S OWN MOUSTACHE, and loaded up on Halloween goodness at Target. It was a fun, exhausting, and expensive day. My wallet weeps.

There was also college football ad the best snuggle of my life.

Sunday was productive. I hope all Sundays are as productive.

Guess what?

I AM PAINTING AGAIN! Phee-Bizzle is possibly helping me get an art show sometime next year at some gallery she knows. I've been blathering on about this on My Space and to Carol so I'm sort of all blathered out. Know that I am totally super-psyched about it...if it happens. She gave me the jolt I need to start painting again and painting is WHAT I LOVE! I needed something in my life that I could feel good about and I can feel good about this. I felt alive buying supplies for my first piece. I felt loved when Todd bought me an artist rubber duckie, insisting I keep it at my station, and called me Hot Rod Picasso. My goal is 25-30 AWESOME pieces. Nothing mediocre will be acceptable in my eyes. Having an art show and selling one painting is a dream of mine. I want to finish this whole thing feeling really proud of myself. I am determined to feel accomplished.

I can not WAIT to get my hands dirty.

Hypnotized by those snake-slit eyes!

My 19 year old nephew called me "Aunt Ci-Ci" today. Chuckle.

I'm sure Phee-Bizzle will punch me directly in the vag for saying this, but it sure is swell when her lovin' man is out of town! Not swell for her, of course, because she misses him painfully, like a phantom limb and I know what that's like. Todd and I have only spent 7 nights apart in our entire relationship and were both ready to chew through our pillows and/or wrists! But this isn't about what freaks we are about one another. It's about how Phoebe is a tour widow and I'm reaping the benefits like the world's most lazy theif!!

Last night I was lucky enough to swill INCREDIBLY cheap beer and shoot the breeze with the broad (*sidenote - my bad ass boyfriend sent HER a text message that said "Give my Lacey Cakes a kiss for me". Yeah, he rules and you're jealous). Tonight she's accompanying me to film a shotgun wedding skit for the "Jesus County Fair" variety show that D.A.B. is filming. I am playing pregnant bride, Felma Lou Spurwinkle. You know what this means? It's wig time! This is not about my wig fetish though. It's about Phoebe being awesome company for the hike to The 'Ville. Saturday, when the boys are at the baseball game, she at I are hitting the zoo like two fashionable socialites. The day continues with a flask and a discount screening of "Sex and The City". And Sunday brunch? Yeah. I'm a Pheebaholic this week. It's my duty to keep her brain and her date book occupied. Her vag? That's her business.

"Baby, It's You" by The Beatles is a sexy song. Recognize.

PFG have our first show without Queen La Tata tomorrow night. But it's almost like we're weening off heroin because she'll BE there but as Miss Firecracker One-Woman Band! And she's graciously agreed to introduce us which is good. We're mighty shy for 3 chatty gals in our underpants. I'm a little nervous...Queen La Tata always helped me squash my stage fright and go balls out. At least her adorable face will be in the crowd, cheering us on, specifically me because I'm selfish and hoarding her affection and support. 2 sets...that's a lot of Pussy...foot Girls. And last night's practice was a touch rocky for various reasons. But I'm always pleasantly surprised at our shows so I'll just keep my chin up. Come out to At Witz End and slug some PBRs with the Pussyfoot Girls.

That's what I've got. What have YOU got?

There's times that I wonder if you remember.

Before I start spewing love and blood all over your laps and/or faces and into your eyeballs and/or ears (if someone is reading this to you like a bedtime story)...and believe me, this is going to be nothing but gushing about how in lurve I am (with a little triple X action thrown in) so if you're a major hater, turn back now...I have to say the following to one of the hottest bitches in Cleveland:

ROLLER SKATING DOUBLE DATING?!? I'm in.

Also, that should be our band's first album.

Also, we should start a band and make an album.

Now back to the cartoon hearts and bubbles and "XOXO" and romancin' your pants off. Man, you're going to wish I was still rollilng around in a shit-filled pool of self-pity and misery once you're done reading. I'm a happy clam and my clam is happy, too, and I insist on sharing it with the whole flipping world like some people would their Herpes. That really isn't aimed at anyone specific. Herpes is my go-to STD. Regardless...I even got the A-OK to spill the sticky-sweet details from the man of the house, who is not a blog fan. But he'll support this...cause it gives him a big, fat, pat on the back for being an awesome boyfriend! A literary smack on his ass, if you will. So here comes the MOOSH!

Monday sucked, as Monday's tend to do, especially when it's your first day back to work after surgery. I'm just going to say that things did not go well and I was dragging my corpse around my place of employment...I wasn't ready to go back to work. My body wasn't ready. It was just ready to hurt and cry. I did a lot of complaining to the boyfriend, not expecting what I got when I came home. He was waiting for me at the door, all smiley and adorable. We laid down on the couch and shot the breeze...he was really happy to see me, which microwaved my heart. He told me he had a little evening planned for us but we had to wait until it got dark...hmmmmm. We cracked a few cold ones (incredibly stupid since I KNEW I was dehydrated to the MAX) and stood in the kitchen, talk-talk-talking. "Learn To Love" was on today's date on the calendar. "I Heart My Cupcake" was on the dry-erase board. He told me what his INITIAL plan was for our evening...which takes a little back-trackin':

Saturday we were SUPPOSED to go see Nine Pound Hammer. We didn't. Well, we WENT to The Jigsaw but we didn't see them. And it was the fault of one of us...the one that isn't ME! It caused a fairly glorious spat. I think couples need to have them from time to time...it sometimes helps you set your priorities. Regardless...his initial plan was to get Nine Pound Hammer CDs and 24oz. PBR cans so we could stand around the living room, pretending we were at the show. Him just TELLING ME THAT was uber-romantic (I was not shocked that he couldn't find Nine Pound Hammer CDs...though if he had looked in my collection...). He recognized that he screwed up. That's all I needed.

But that's not all I got! Moving on...to Mooshville...

We watched Family Guy, as we like to do, and held hands, which I like to do. It's my "go-to" comfort mechanism. I felt like we had just started dating...we were all goofy about each other. So finally...Todd decides it's dark enough for "our little evening". I go upstairs and there are candles all over the bathroom...even in the shower. I'm not a super girly-girl but it was dang perty! So we hope in the shower..no XXX yet...and I just washed the stress of my day away. We were totally in love and awesome and I forgot why it had been such a bad day. He were beyond happy...he told me he could promise me a lifetime of "this" and I accepted. We may have rough patches but overall, he knows how to take my pain away. Oh! Did I mention the part where he brought 2 beers INTO the shower??? My face ached from smiling and laughing so much.

Then the shower was over. Frown.

So we go into the Tomb Room which is pitch black and what do I hear? Crack! Crack! Crack! All sorts of blue glow sticks illuminating the room!! If you really know me, you know that my heart throbs for things that glow...at Cedar Point, I always had to have one million glow necklaces and I would try to preserve them in the freezer as long as I could. So a mammoth smile was PLASTERED across my face! And the treats kept coming...he bought me a Hot Wheel (we collect), we bought mini-Snickers (which I orgasm for), and he bought me a card shaped like an eyeball, telling me he was sorry for upsetting me over the weekend. I asked him why he was doing all of this...hesaid he screwed things up and upset me and loves me and this is what he should be doing. Or something like that. I fell in love all over again.

Insert XXX here.

So that's the story of why my boyfriend is so much better that your boyfriend. I didn't need a whole day full of romancin' and pampering but I would never turn it down from him. He was so genuinely excited to do everything he did...and I was so genuinely excited BY everything he did. I changed what my favorite part of the evening was every 5 seconds. I think it truthfully might have been when he said if he found a magic lamp, he would use his wishes to undo specific things that hurt my heart...so I think I can finally forgive him. He loves me. We're going to be a family.

THE MOOSH IS OVER! VOMIT AT WILL!

In other news...PFG...2 sets...At Witz End...Friday.

You can dry your eyes.

After a short...but memorable...hiatus, your favorite program is back on the air! So many updates on your favorite characters, you will no doubt drench your drawers while urinating with delight! Or you will just be bored to tears and/or death in which case...go ahead and drop dead already! Or just stop reading if you want to preserve your life and the way you live it. Rambling? Yeah...you know you missed it, my babies.

Where the fuck to start? How about my trip?!?

For starters, it rocked my knee-high socks right off my stems and there are pictures to prove it (coming soon). And they are officially my favorite pictures ever taken EVER. We look so...happy. Genuinely happy. And we look so bananas in love. We've already framed a bunch and every time I look at them, my heart feels warm. I'm not going to give you the play-by-play on everything we did at any given moment during the weekend because it will only mean anything to us. But we did a lot and we had a blast. It was worth every penny!!! I could get real sappy...I'll swallow that down. I would like to apologize to Erin for missing yet another opportunity to bask in the glory that is her beauty...I had every intention of going to the show...until the weekend caught up with me and I was in bed and spoony by 9:05p. Roller skating soon??? What what!?

And then there's this whole "emergency room" business.

Ugh.

Once again, I'm going to hold back on the play-by-play. It's personal. I have to be selective about what I choose to share with the world. I can say this...there was a lot of blood. A LOT. More than I've ever seen up close and personal. And no, I didn't slit my wrists or anything, my GOD. I'm being cryptic because it's personal and those who need to know DO. I just mentioned the blood because it's haunting me still!!! It was a traumatic and humiliating experience. But I think it brought Todd and I a smidge closer. He was an excellent support system and kept my head screwed on when I couldn't do it alone. It was so comforting to hear him say all these sweet things before I went into surgery (I suggested he tell me everything he ever wanted to in case I died) and to see his smiling face when I came out. He saw a lot of things I'm sure he didn't want to see and put up with me squeezing his hand mighty tight a few times. He was a trooper. I am a very lucky girl and I KNOW I couldn't have gotten through it all without him.

And that pretty much brings us to now. I know this wasn't very light-hearted and ha-larious like I'vetried to be recently. But honestly...I lost enough blood to feed 3 adult male vampires so I'm having trouble focusing. So...I had a fun trip that weekend and I survived, which I'm sure disappoints many of you but THRILLS others, this past week. Now I just take one day at a time and put one foot in front of the other until I'm fully recovered. Thanks to everyone who senf friendly words and cheer up messages and what not. I'm lucky to have such bad ass people in my life and I hope I can be there for you in return some day.

Hopefully you're not bleeding to death like I was, though.

Tell me that you'll wait for me.

You know who's pretty? Pretty as a picture? Pretty as a button? Phoebe Marie Nelson. She's just about as perty as a strawberry. Or a slice of cheesecake. Just deliciously beautiful, even after ditching her trademark bright-red locks. And you know what else? She's just so damn talented! All her Munnys and Dunnys and cut-n-paste artwork and Shrinky Dink necklaces of weaponary and poisons. Yep. That girl is oozing talent and creativity out of every pore. Beautiful and talented. Am I going on and on about how delightful Phoebe is because she recently subscribed to this here blog? Perhaps. But that doesn't make the above rant any less true! Phoebe is TITS and you should feel lucky just to have her throw up in the same room as you. There. I said it. Have a lovely day, Phee-Bizzle.

Did anyone else notice that it's hoodie weather? WEE!

Super soon, and I mean SOON, it will be the start of my fun-n-fan-fucking-tastic four day weekend and I am so super psyched that my boobs feel engourged! My dance card if FULL for the next four days! Tonight I have to pack for our roadtrip and get all the good grooming out of the way...wax, shave, mani/pedi, chick stuff. Tomorrow I have some shopping and banking to do, an appointment with Anna Banana to whiten the skunky stripe (we'll get to white in time...I know it!), a pit-stip to the Shoe Lanes, and then...*GASP*...we are GHOSTS! When we get back on Sunday, I'll have time to max-n-chillax before going to see "a singing, dancing, pantless bunny" and Erin's beeeeeeeautiful face at Now That's Class. Yes, I said it. Now That's Class. The Monday, the day that pats me on the back for all my laboring, begins my hermitism for the rest of the year. I will clean the spare bedroom. I will spackle nail holes in my room. I will spend no money. I will drink n0 beer. I will stick to my guns. What a weekend!

Enjoy your clambakes and sock hops, party people!

I will make it up to you. I promise to.

Am I giving up? Giving in? Even giving a fuck anymore?

There are a lot of things I am super psyched about but before I can start jumping up and down in a fit of hyperactivity, I have to have a little pity party. Actually, pity party isn't even the right term but I don't care enough to come up with something creative and better fitting. I'm in some sort of rut recently and carrying (ha!) a lot of stress in my hands. Best way to sum it all up? I'm just not happy. Period. My best friend isn't happy so he's going to pack it all in and leave town. I don't have that option so I need to make things better where I am. Work with what I've got. And I've got potential.

A major perk (get your airplane vomit bag ready, suckahs, boyfriend mush ahead) is that everything is boss in my relationship so I have someone to lean on while my brain is being rewired. In fact, we've been on the same page about a lot of key things recently (saving some dough, cutting down on money-wasting activities, budgets-n-stuff...we're not the Rockafellers, yo) which is comforting. And we've managed to have a lot of fun (chillaxing with friends, chillaxing with each other) despite my recent emo-ness. It's goot to have a boyfriend that's a buddy. My goal is to really tighten the belt to build up some savings, improve the credit (stupid greedy exs), and start building a future for us. Not to mention that I want to get back to being a work out MACHINE! He's behind me and WITH ME 100% so I'm going to kick major ass and re-evaluate where I stand on December 31st...and that night, I will party my face off as a reward for working so hard. I think I'll start 2009 off feeling pretty good about what I've improved on.

Maybe I'm not in such a rut! I have a plan! Onward.

A close friend have MAJOR surgery yesterday and came through it with flying colors. I'm happy and relieved. And I'm also proud of how well he and his wife handled everything that was thrown at them. Total bad asses, both of them. Hopefully none of my friends or their loved ones have to go through anything like this again. Horrible. But we're celebrating! Life is good! We went out and celebrated with a few beers on a bar patio last night (I heart bar patios and might not be seeing them for awhile once my penny-pinching life-style kicks in on Monday). But BEFORE Monday hits...

It's almost time for Todd and I to blow town! About 49 hours left in the countdown. 49 hours sounds a lot more tolerable than 4 days, or a week, or a week and a half! We're hitting the road and leaving any baggage (but not LUGGAGE) and drama at home! I'm thinking of turning my celly off for most of the trip so once again, if you're planning on having a crisis or I'm your "in case of emergency" person, I will probably fail you. And you'll have to fogive me! I've been looking forward to this trip and I deserve it. WE deserve it! We work hard. We're good people. We love each other and are good to our friends and family. And starting Monday, we're going to be hermits for the rest of the year. Time to cut loose...and there's no one I'd rather get silly with.

Fuck my rut. Life is good.

I'll have to pack my things and go!

This weekend, according to Todd, was "uneventful but good". That's the best way to describe it and I couldn't do any better myself. We spent a lot of time together and didn't kill or injure ourselves, each other, or anyone else, innocent bystandard or not, so I consider it a success. My favorite part? Banana pancakes in bed, no doubt. But there's not much to say about "uneventful but good" weekends unless you want to hear about the Lorain County Fair and my first tractor pull or antics at the Embassy Suites bar or Sunday afternoon hand massages and movies on the couch. Yeah...I didn't think so.

104 hours until Todd and Lacey Escape Ohio! YEEHAW!

Light up a cigarette. Take it to bed.

When I get home...immidiately when I get home...I am going to wash my face in ice-cold water, put on the most comfortable pair of pajama pants I own, pour a tall glass of grape juice, pop in Family Guy or some other mind-numbing cartoon and take some Advil PMs. No. Make sweet LOVE to some Advil PMs. I don't want to eat, or think, or function like an adult. All I want to do is fight my heavy eyelids as I giggle hysterically until I pass out. Then I want to wake up every so often and feel the warm-n-fuzzy feeling that Advil PMs give, roll over into a new position in the pillows, and drift away again. So if you're planning on having some sort of crisis or I'm your "in case of emergency" person, I will fail you today because I will be in an indefinite coma.

Thank you and good night. Literally.

Don't know when I'll be back again.

Pack your bags full of lingerie and weaponry! We're hittin' the dusty trail just like we would a disobedient wife or a red-headed step child! Like that man with the French braids that can't pay his taxes because he spends his money on "the dope"...we can't wait to get on the road again! Can you feeeel the excitement coursing through my veins and the tension in my typing fingers? If I had a tail, I'd wag it but I don't so I'll just have to hump something until I am SPENT! A chair leg, perhaps. Or my travel companion. As The Pixies once said...or actually said many times in a melodic way...OH MY GOLLY! We're going on a road trip, son!

There's a holiday weekend right around the corner well-stocked with clam bakes and sock hops for us to attend, being as popular as we are. Herman's Hermits (who I really only like for 'Henry the 8th' cause if you drink every time they say HENRY, you'd be on your way to Drunk Town via the Buzz Express) were on the weekend agenda. Just for kicks-n-thrills, I threw the idea of a weekend adventure onto "the idea truck" and POW! A road trip was conceived and we're just glowing about the news.

Here's the bottom line, y'all. We've been running around like those KFC chickens that are engineered and just have brain stems, not heads. I used to tell my sister that they stir the gravy with the brain stems to give it more flavor. Terrible, and not at all sensitive. Regardless...every weekend has been jam-packed which, eventhough those weekends usually consisted of rocking out and chugging beers, is really stressful when they're all smooshed together. And yeah, we'll have to pack bags (but we don't have to impress anyone...everything I pack might be from Victoria's Secret!) and sure, we have drive a few hours (but it will be just the two of us and we can hold hands and jam tunes). But how many chances do you get to just shirk your responsibilitier and skip town with the person you're batty about? That's what I thought, bitches.

Where are we going? It's a top secret location out of state so someone will have to be responsible for Cleveland while we're gone. And don't try to reach me unless you have the hottest gossip or a genuine emergency. Chances are my phone will be off. Hey...that annoying little sucker might not even make it out of the car if I'm feeling super independent! And I thank everyone for their Labor Day weekend invites and hope your functions are still mind-blowing and head-turning despite our absence. Am I full of myself today? Nah...I'm just super-psyched, pumped, jazzed, and any other descriptive word I commonly use that ends in -ed. Stay tuned.

A love like ours is love that's hard to find.

"I'm Going To Jail", or whatever it's actually titled, by Struttin' Cocks has been in my head, on repeat, since Saturday night. Unfortunately for me AND my brain, the only words I know are "I'm going to JAIL". If something doesn't trip the switch soon, I'm going to have to call Sean and have him sing it to me. Break the cycle.

So what can I say about the weekend? Risky.

Friday, I accompanied Jim to Tattoo Faction. While there, I got to see Bobbi Socks' engagement ring before the big public proposal which made me feel powerful and involved. What a ring-a-ding-ding! There were tattoos and there was steak-0n-a-stone and there was shit talkin' and gossip. It was a good way to spend my day off, I'd say. Weasel may have disagreed since he went to bed mega-early, like pre-early bird special! I ordered Chinese food and my fortune cookie said I would have some sort of uncoming happiness and excitement. Stupid cookie!

Saturday...I'm going to be ultra selective about what I say regarding Saturday. There are things I just don't feel like remembering right now or for all of eternity. Regardless...I eventually made it out the door and to the Madison car show but I missed Joey proposing to Bobbi Socks (they did make a pit-stop at my digs so I got to hug-n-congratulate them in person). I eventually met up with friends. I eventually had shots of whiskey. I eventually learned that the motherfucking Heptanes cancelled on us AGAIN. I eventuakky went home to stop my head from spinning.

Honestly and selfishly...I didn't want to go to the show. My head and my heart were somewhere else all together and my fists were wherever the Heptanes were, beating them to death. I didn't even shower and I didn't drink when I got there and I hid...a lot. I will totally high-five Karen and I for our "shark and shark-attack victim" outfits and I will pretty much hump Carol's leg for filling in for the recently engaged Bobbi Socks. Sadly, there was a CD player malfunction and we only made it through 3 songs. Secretly....thrilled! My head was NOT screwed on. I was pretty much absent but sometimes you have to push through for others. My little silver shark Karen was psyched so I did feel rotten for her...and for the work Carol put in last minute. I didn't feel bad when I ordered my third Coke and was in bed pumped full of Advil PMs before midnight.

Yesterday was a good old fashioned, lazy Sunday. I did things here-n-there around my digs, I went and cleaned up a mess I made at The Sac, I had a late lunch and some convo with the Shoe Lanes, and I crashed on my couch with the Family Guy box set. I woke up to the Weasel saying "Baaaaby" in just the way I like, prodding me to come up to bed. How could I argue with that face, I ask you? Sunday was probably the best day of the weekend since I got to keep my brain turned off. I could use a week full of Sundays. I could at least use 5 more hours of sleep and someone to grocery shop for me.

So that's that. The week is just beginning. Sigh.

Think of all the good things we can do.

I was just blabbing on and on about the almost mind-blowingly insane amount of potential this weekend has to blow my mind...but I got bored. From the minute the weekend kicks in until I am dragged kicking-n-screaming to clock back into the grind...mind-blowing. I know it. Any fancy adjectives I can throw in there won't change a damn thing. So...aloha!

The arena is empty except for one man.

Todd is feeding off my improved outlook on life. We're psyched.

I'm not going to lie or sugar-coat anything...I was thinking dirty all day yesterday. I couldn't wait to clock out and get these mits on my diesel drivin' daddy. After a semi-smutty welcome home in the kitchen, Todd said there was a surprise for me on the bed (of course, I was thinking...smutty). I'm not super keen on surprises but I DO love treats! And this was certainly something to log for posterity. He followed me up they stairs as I raced to find...a stack of shirts and a bag of various other articles of clothing...underwear, socks, t-shirts. He's more than just a toothbrush and coffee pot now. HE STARTED TO MOVE THINGS IN! I was so pumped that we made out right there on top of the clothes. That's how we do things at our house.

I started preparations for 2 major upcoming events.

1. Eventhough it is 4 months away, I have started to plan the New Year's Eve party that will take place at the Ol' Kentucky Corral. The party at my digs for New Year's Eve 2005/2006 was legendary. In order to surpass something of that magnitude, well, it take careful planning to ensure everyone has a memorable time. And it takes MONEY! Time to start squirrling my nuts...winter is coming. I have already booked Miss Firecracker One-Woman Band and am scouting for one or two more forms of entertainment. God, the chaos that is a party at my place. I feel all warm-n-fuzzy...and hungover...just thinking about it. And the guy I get to kiss at midnight? Amazing.

2. I am going to be 30 on a Saturday in February and what better place to turn 30 but my favorite place on the planet, LAS VEGAS! I've started to rally some of my V.I.Peeps to get an idea who rules and who clearly does not. I'm not asking BOATLOADS of people so dont' feel left out. I just want to be with people I'm majorly close to. Travel in large groups makes it so hard to coordinate anything and you don't really get to enjoy the people you're with. I'm going to enjoy turning 30. I thought I'd be marry with kids by now but then again, I did a TON of things that I NEVER thought I'd do and have had a pretty amazing and not-at-all boring life. I'm looking at 30 as just the start of another decade to be awesome in. And I'm going to start being awesome with a cocktail and twenty bucks on 17!

Cover me in kisses, baby.

Ooh la la! The most fun I've ever had with pants on?!?

That would be quite a statement to make and I think I feel secure enough to make it about last night. We dubbed it "Make Out Monday". Sidebar: I have this saucy little habit of naming really memorable frisky moments between Weasel and I. It started with "Make Up Thursday", followed up "Drunk Tuesday", and recently we had "Sexy Saturday". Yesterday...totally "Make Out Monday". And totally the most fun I've ever had with pants on since I hit adulthood. Did you say Va-Voom?!? Va-Voom indeed!

So without getting graphic and making all y'all wash your eyeballs off with soap, I'll just continue to blather with slightly veiled references. Blathering is what I do. It's what I live for. Regadless. So I instituted a new attitude and outlook on life and it paid off major last night! I had a hot date scheduled for Chinese food, beer and a request for a lot of kissing. And there you have it! You forget how great kissing is until you're doing it! And you kiss for hours and can't believe you don't do this more often. Kissing is super intimate. And fucking HOT. You're so revved up, you start pouring your heart out and he's pouring his heart out and then you kiss MORE and you kiss HARDER. And then when you wake up, you're greeted with morning kisses and you plan for MORE kissing later on. Oh MAN!

I feel 16. I think I fell in love all over again!

LIFE IS FUCKING GOOD!