I look at you. Looks like everything's better.

Today feels like the Titanic is sinking all over again. Why can't the boat just SINK!? Why can't the day just END!? Crabby? Yeah. I'm a little crabby. I'm a little concerned. And I'm a little sexually frustrated. All these things together do not make for a tasty and effective cocktail. They make for a mother-trucking TIME BOMB! I want to get in my car, listen to Teen Idols REAL LOUD, and just be fucked-up for awhile. I tried to address what's bugging me but I got what I like to call "The One Word Fuck You"...one word answers or short, infrequent blow-offs. Nothing was addressed. My skin is still crawling. Don't get me wrong. I'm not mad at anyone. I'm just irritated. It's like wetting your pants and then being forced to sit in your wet pants. I'm not talking diaper rash or anything. I'm talking full-on adult sitting in wet panties...clingy wet drawers. That's my level of annoyance currently. I wish I had "Let's Make Noise" on my I-Pod. I would blast that jam until 480 got shakey.

I'm going out tonight and that's that. I want to be my old, rock-n-roll, Sharky self. I'm gonna get dressed, get tipsy and rock out. Even if I have to do it alone. I used to go to shows alone. I used to go to shows all the damn time. One year I saw over 100 DIFFERENT bands! Where have THOSE days gone? Why have I sacrificed so much of myself and what I love? I'm not one thousand years old. I can go out on a work night and just be awesome. Not worrying what other people are thinking and doing. I'm screwing up left and right in certain aspects of my life. I know this. Shark Attack! Records? Fuck. I threw up all over that because I let personally issues fuck up my goals. And school? Suckah, please. What happened to the version of me that DIDN'T GIVE A FUCK!?!?!?!

That's who I am today. I'm that girl. I'll wear my Lost Sounds shirt to prove it.

How do you like me now?

Who do I do this for...HEY...me or you?

"They" say absence makes the heart grow fonder. I say that absence makes your heart take on a life of it's own which sometimes includes trying to escape from inside your chest cavity using brutal force and prison weapons. I think absnece makes your heart want to commit murder and run wild in the streets spewing jello-y blood and guts! The absence that my heart had to endure (endure...like I was being tortured rather than on a bad-ass Disney World vacation) from Thursday until yesterday was pure agony on that tuff, little, bloody muscle! But it's back to thumping and pumping as it should and no lives were lost. No injuries sustained. Important realizations were made though. I really, truly am in love. Not that I had doubts before (NO DOUBTS). I'm a lucky ducky to have a fox like Todd and I know it...his hotness is just a perk though...it's what's gonna on inside that gets my motor revving. But the separation...no matter how small...just solidified the fact that I am going to spend the rest of my life with him. I want to cover his face in saliva until death.

Now that the mush and gush is out of the way...

Family vay-cay was a blast and a half, like doing a shot of expensive Vodka and having someone punch you in the face! Sure, I got too much sun and tossed my cookies and yeah, I miss Todd so much that I went all zombie a few times, and blah, I missed a Pussyfoot show that went really well...but it was really amazing. I got to ride Tower of Terror (after a beer and a milkshake...dummy) and the Haunted Mansion (twice), I saw the Little Mermaid show, we ate in Japan at Epcot, I had a German beer and French martini, I shopped, I swam, I got in quality time with my little nieces and nephew. It all was good stuff...stuff that life-long memories are made of. One of my FAVORITE memories made on this trip will be when my boyfriend who loves me sent me drunk text messages telling me how much he HATED ME for leaving him. The one that said, "HATE! HATE! HATE!" may have very well be my favorite. I hope we can print all those affectionate sentiments on our wedding invitations!

37 days until Heavy Rebel. My heart is purring in anticipation.

You have a thousand things in front of you.

I'm not getting all Carrie Bradshaw on you asses but when are things too good to be true? I'm currently text flirting with my own boyfriend! That's so damn silly and yet whenever his name pops on my screen, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I get ants in my pants (at least, I hope they're ants and not, like, Herpes). Some "people" have been worried that I'm going to overthink how good things are (due to a past that pretty much makes me want to projectile vomit clotty blood in your face) and flip like a stack of pancakes. Well, "people" (a.k.a. Phee-Bizzle), I'm not flipping. No flapjacks here. I'm appreciating every little second of this relationship to the best of my effed-up ability. I'm drinking it in like a would a frosty cocktail. This guy...my guy...is so good for me that I MUST believe I did something right in this life or another. Maybe when you take as many emotional sucker punches as I have and keep getting back up...you're bound to get dealt a good hand. Too many analogies? Boxing? Poker? I don't know. My brain is tired and I'm rambling. I'm just all lovin' on Todd and I want this in print because I don't doubt that something gruesome will happen in some other aspect of my life and I want to remind myself that I've got somethign good going on. And that good thing isn't going anywhere. He promised.

Now that I'm done shooting love out of all my sockets and onto your eyeballs, I can say that this was a phat weekend and it has me all exhausted. Even my hair is tired. And I said "phat". That's what happens when your brain needs a nap. I was going to list off all the amazing things I did this weekend but blather, rot, kill, die. I just don't feel like it. I feel like putting on pajamas, making myself a cacoon and sleeping until my weasel...weasels. We took the best nap together yesterday. Our FIRST nap after a ball-kicking-good breakfast with all my besties. It was one of those moments where my belly was fully, my body was tired, and I thought, "I can't possible be any more comfortable or happy than I am right now". Unless of course my skin was made out of pajamas. Luckily, I'm leaving for vacation on THURSDAY!! Unfortunately, it's the kind of vacation that you come back exhausted from. Drat. But I'm going to make sweet love to every minute of it.

I have to interject and say...I smell a hot dog.

Regardless...the entire time Todd and I have been dating, we've only slept apart ONE TIME and that was Friday and it was miserable! It was like being scalped. Or having my ovaries removed by demons. It was like the robotic wolves had been starved to the brink of death and were slowly picking me apart. It was a nightmare. I don't want to sound all girly but...it was a nightmare. And I've got 4 nights alone in a hotel room coming up. Nightmare! I either suspect carnage or cocktails. In bulk. So...yeah, an entire docu-blog on how mind-blowing and vag-quaking my boyfriend is. I am almost 30 years old, for screaming bloody murder out loud! I guess I should be thankful that I can still feel this way, right? That my heart hasn't turned into chrome? Yeah. Shut the Hell up, dummy.

What's the name? What's the game?

I'm starting to be a firm believer in the theory that boys always get their periods. Sure, they my not gush jello-y gunk from their junk, but man, some of the dudes I know can get moodier than bitches! I know I sounds thuggish but I theorize about my theory and I roll with the words that come out, no matter how thuggish-ruggish. So as I've been living through these male menstrual moments, I've decided that if I am this nutso when I'm shedding my uterine lining, I might as well just go into hiding because I must be BATTY! Anyway, boys, take some Midol (which is the best way for Ben to cure a hangover, or so I hear) and chillax. It'll all be over soon, I promise. And if not, you're going to get one of posterior paws up your rear...since you are vag-less.

What did this story MEAN? It means that boys are confusing and therefore my brain hurts.

You know what cures a hurty brain? A visit from one of your besties that you haven't seen since BEFORE X-Mas. I've been a bad friend and deserve to have my hand smacked. Maybe my face, too...lightly. Maybe you could give my hair a little tug, too. This paragraph is starting to lose it's PG rating. Regardless, Queen B is coming in and we have 24 hours of non-stop rockin' and rollin' "Punch Drunk Summer" style. We're going to sit around and gossip like chicks do for awhile, then I'll be getting my 'do done did for Ladies Night at The Sac, then we'll be chowing down Japanese-stylie (!!!), of course there will be pre-show grooming to do as I turn from Lula into Patti Cake, and then we'll be doing it up at The Sac! Not only do I lurve drinking with Becky...but she has NEVER seen The Pussyfoot Girls before! INSANITY! I predict there will be shots, beers, shots-n-beers, dancing, hugging, and hangovers. And FLAPJACKS! Life is good when Becky is around. Nothing seems THAT BAD when she's here spreading the love around. Don't make that sentence dirty or I'll bust your mug.

So I have to get through the rest of today and tomorrow which shouldn't be hard because my heart and brain seem to functioning just fine. I should be able to live through the weekend. Man, my bladder is sure talking to me though, YEESH! I have high hopes for this weekend and it's filth and gore potential. My 3 besties and my boyfriend in one place. Amazing. My vagina is starting to quake just thinking about it. If I didn't have to go grocery shopping after work, I'd shoot straight home to watch a dirty movie and rid myself of some of this INTENSITY that is building up deep within my being!!!

I'm freaking out with FUN. I gotta scram.

I'm just gonna scream and shout!

It's so quiet where I am right now. Quiet and cold and sad. I'm itching to get on with my day because I have a "to do list" that is one million miles long. If every Chinese person in the world walked by, the line would never end. And THAT is my "to do list". That was not original material but it is exaclty fitting. I have to grocery shop because bitches gotta feed, and pussies, too. I have to finish at LEAST mine and Karen's routine to "Sisters" for Saturday and to go along with THAT task, I have to get two fans since it's a semi-fan dance! THEN there's my OWN solo dance which has a foundation but needs to be revved up a bit. And of course, the kitchen needs to be cleaned, the basement needs to be finished, there's showering and grooming to do, and I would LOVE to have my boyfriend lay on top of me for awhile. So I guess I'll come up for air sometime around...Friday. Fuck.

The weekend was pretty boss, even if Todd and I lost about 3-4 hours of our life in some sort of vortex. The oddest things happen to us after we leave the Jigsaw. It's like when the Maitland's left there house and encountered sandworms with no concept of time or distance. Regardless, we saw bands, we drank, we socialized, we looked adorable, and we fell in love all over again which was actually part of the plan all along. Saturday we were bums but Sunday we were mega-productive so I guess we don't need spankings. But we might WANT them. Now I'm couting down the milliseconds until this weekend. My plan is to chillax major on Friday and then Saturday, not only is there a Pussyfoot show at The Sac, but Queen B is coming to visit, weather catastrophe pending! I think I need a little Becky time to bring me a few steps further away from the ledge. I've been feeling great lately (and my entire family said I looked amazing...my Grandma said I'm a new person...thank you, Todd) but when she's around...I feel better.

That's pretty much the Cliff's Notes version of my life right now. Busy. Psyched. Hot in the pants. I wish I had some gorey details for you to make my life seem more intense or dramatic but right now...it's domestic. And that can be applied to both my house cleaning/cooking/nesting AND my beer intake. I haven't gone soft. I'm just coasting. Cruising, if you will. I'm sure I'll be "piggy drunk" as Carol High Hair says on Saturday, and I plan to recover with flapjacks on Sunday. All my bills are paid up, I'm weeding things out, I'm sucking up as much time as my friends will let me. I'm a happy gal. I'm a lucky gal. Come to The Sac on Saturday and see how happy and lucky I am!!! 52 days to Heavy Rebel. 10 days to Disney World.

*MUAH*

You always have to make your own fun.

I'm going to jump right in. Dive head first into the menstrually bloody pool of the Blog-o-Sphere. The visual that is coming into my brain (which is currently shut off) is when Diane Freeling slid inot the recently dug foundation of their swimming pool while it was raining...at night...and caskets emerged with things resembling Angelina Jolie popping out. Yes, blogging these days reminds me of drowning with the rotting corpses of Native Americans. Pantie-wetting terror. I used to be so good at this. And I have such a vaginally-satisfying summer on the hoizon that I NEED to have a hard copy of. A hard and erect copy for posterity. I need to get back on my GAME, muthatruckers. And that is my promise to you...to slather your brains in seepage and gore that is produced by my life. That promise is brought to you by the letters T, M, and the number 5. Wow...I didn't dive in at all!! I belly-flopper per usual! Jack-ass.

So I put in my request for Heavy Rebel vacation days and it was approved!!! I practically tore open my shirt and yelled GOOOOOOOOOOOAAAALLLLL! But no one would have understood my excitement. Just thinking about piling in the Grey Ghost with my favorite Ol' Kentucky Sharks (Gills McHigh Hair, Shark Bones, Guest Starring Sharko, Johnny Sharko...and the as-yet-un-named Shark that I'm in lurve with), makes my eyeballs liquify. It has the potential to be the best year ever. It has the potential to erase my brain, and THAT is what I am after these days. I just want to put on some flip-flops, pile up my hair, and get sweaty, drunk, and obnoxious with the people I love and the people I have F-U-N with. There is no reason to be so stressed all the time! There is NO REASON why every time I take a shower, my stress tried to escape my body in the form of BLOOD POURING OUT OF MY FACE (I've been having a lot of nose bleeds recently...not facial stigmatas or anything). There's on 58 short days which is NOTHING since I started the countdown at 130. I used to have very little to look forward to...

In other news, I'm still in love. We "broke out fight cherry", as my "out of town bestie" Rocko says. In was pretty gnarly for a first major blow out. I was throwing ineffectual mental fists left-n-right. For a minute, I was ready to run for the hills because it felt like all too familiar territory with the yelling and the crying and the anger. But for whatever reason, we get over humps and fights and brawls so quick. So it's over now and we're all in lurve and shtuff again. I knew I was a happy clam with a happy clam when I just passed out on his lap at 9:00p while he passed out on my back. You might call us "old, tired fucks"...I call us "in it for life". And life is LONG! It requires an early bed time here and there. Bottom line...he's changing my life day by day. This thing on my face? It's called a smile and I dig it!

Alright...before I drown you by blowing a gigantic load of "emo" all over your face, I'll just tell you about a few upcoming punches on my dance card. I hope to see as many of you as possible at as many of these things as possible. Let me trade in the misery I've been covering you all in over the past 3 years for some good ol' fashioned awesomeness. And I promise, I'm going to keep all of y'all more up to date on the happenings of my little life. I mean, I'm sure that you would be have the person you are if you didn't know that while in Canada, Todd suggested we buy our wedding rings with the Skee-Ball tickets we accumulated. That's something that needs to be carved in stone, right there...though our grotesquely large knucles sort of made our gummy rings useless).

CALENDAR OF KICK-ASS-NESS

5/8 - Meatmen @ The Jigsaw

5/9 - Lords of the Highway and Uncle Scratch @ The Jigsaw

5/10 - Miss Firecracker One Woman Band @ Nemeth's

5/17 - Ladies Night w/ The Pussyfoot Girls @ The Sac

5/22 to 5/29 - DISNEY WORLD!!

6/3 - The Breeders @ House of Blues

6/12 - Iron Maiden @ Blossom

6/13 - Sasquatch and the Sick-a-Billies @ The Beachland

6/21 - Get Tank's w/ The Pussyfoot Girls @ The Sac

7/3 to 7/7 - HEAVY REBEL WEEKENDER ADVENTURE!

7/12 - The Pussyfoot Girls @ Rockabilly Deluxe 4!

7/19 - The Pussyfoot Girls @ Dragway 42 Rock-n-Race!

8/16 - The Pussyfoot Girls w/ THE HEPTANES @ The Sac

Annnnd...I'm spent.