I know that I'm right cause I hear it in the night.

I woke up from the most horrific and realistic nightmare of my life this morning. When I finally realized that it was all just a dream, I started screaming uncontrollably. I really could not get a grip. It gave me the shakes and made me sick to my stomach.  I've never been so physically affected by a nightmare before. I had nightmares during my divorce but this...oh god.

I'm not going to go into what it was about because when I re-read this years from now (as I have been with my older blogs), I don't want to remember it. It was awful on so many different levels. If it were a movie, which it could've been, it would've going from a sort of boring drama into a full-on horror film with a shocking ending. I really feel sick again. I have to stop.

I think I have too much on my mind.

October 21, 2002 @ 4:43pm: Switchblade (who I may sometimes refer to as "Johnny Pantsless, due to a Sweetest's Day incident) looked like a porn star while wearing the aforementioned fake mustache. It was quite natural, especially since he was also wearing a one size too small Izod sweater.

Your face looks good to me.

I woke up to a giant dry erase board on the couch that said "Happy Girlfriend Anniversary" with scribbled hearts and flowers on it. I must've had the goofiest grin on my face when I saw that. Yep. 2 years ago today, I checked the "YES" box when asked to be someone's girlfriend. I feel like a nerd this morning...and I like it. Happy 2 Years, Boyfriend.

Now that all the goof is out of my system...

I received some sad news this morning regarding one of my very best friends in the whole world. A person who has always managed to keep me together when I was falling to pieces. Now it's my turn to be there for them and I just have no words of wisdom. I should be an expert, honestly. I hate that this person is hurting. I HATE THAT YOU'RE HURTING! I hate when anyone I love hurts. You want to say and do the right things but being able to provide genuine comfort is difficult. Anyway, if I could go through this pain for you instead, I would, HOESTLY. I love you.

72 days until vacation! WEE!

That's all I've got.

11/4/03 @ 3:06pm: I don't like Turbonegro and it seems as if Bam Margera likes to lick their Norwegian asses. I hope that phase ends soon. Norwegian ass licking and face make-up related to bands is out this season. Stay hip.

Doubles with a twist that I cannot resist.

I'm going to recommend that everyone get a copy of  "Get Fired" by Smoking Popes, preferably on vinyl if you can find it. It's an excellent record for spring or summer. The jams on that album were the soundtrack to many of my favorite high school memories. "Not That Kind of Girlfriend" is my favorite of the bunch though it is the one that sticks out for having a more rockin'/less mellow, sound than the rest. Regardless...get it...listen to it.

I'm in a more mellow/less rockin', mood today.

Retraction: Naduah will NOT win America's Next Top Model. And I'm not just saying that because she was kicked off last week. I changed my mind about her during last week's episode when I realized she was beautiful but her personality was sucko. I don't care about you being raised in a religious cult or about you posing nude with your black husband. Nothing about you seemed genuine. You're off my radar. Now I only care about Raina and Jessica. Sayonara, bald bitch.

On to something less hostile. Oh! I ordered Birnbaum's 2010 Walt Disney World guide. It's the must-have book for anyone planning a trip there. If you're going for more than a day and you're not organized, you'll miss out AND you'll need a vacation from your vacation. I've been there 5 times but this is my first time being the planner. I'm over preparing now so I don't have anything to sweat but sweat itself once we're Florida bound. I'm excited so just humor me.

I really am itching to see "The Runaways" despite the fact that I am anti-Dakota Fanning. I think Kristen Stewart miiiiiight be able to pull off Joan Jett's suttle nastiness. We'll see. Maybe I'll hit the Saturday matinee. I don't want to pay full price for something that has the potential to make me slash the screen to shreds.

May 6, 2004 @ 9:06am : For breakfast, I will be serving up 1/2 a Skor bar, 4 Olive Garden after dinner mints, 3 condoms from Planned Parenthood, and a Meidcal Mutual insurance card covered in notes I took at an Anti-Bush rally on Tuesday. It may not sound healthy, but I'm sure it will be mind-blowingly delicious and thigh fattening.

I wasn't looking but somehow you found me.

You know what's nice about having Todd for a husband? He does things like plan to surprise me with tickets to see Lady Gaga AND accompany me to said show which would no doubt turn his brain to gelatinous mush...as he is not as entertained by "Mister Gaga" as I am.

You know what's nice about having me as a wife? The fact that I'll take my 14 year old neice to the show instead of Todd so he doesn't throw himself in front of a bus. It was the thought that counted and this way, I get to go to the show and he still gets to seem sweet.

"Little Pink Houses" is a TERRIBLE song. Just horrible.

I got some quality sleep last night so I feel far less feisty. But I don't think it was just me who was riled up. Something was going around leaving everyone exhausted and on edge. Ruffling someone's feathers was an easy task to accomplish yesterday. I'm going to blame it on these weathery mood swings. Hopefully a shift is coming...both in temperatures and attitudes.

Oh, and I am SICK of hearing about all this health care mumbo jumbo. Everyone I know is split right down the middle. As a person who is sick 75% of the time, I embrace health care, I do. But I am just tired of hearing about it...and tired is one thing I don't need to be. Does that make me a bad person? I don't think so. Am I fully informed about the issue?  Probably not. I'm just honest about not being politically minded.

I like fun stuff. Talk to me about that.

Now they're livin' at last.

Chronic Fatigue and Insomnia are for the birds.

I hate birds.

This is not how I wanted to start my week, all exhausted and crabby with my head barely screwed on. I woke up every 10 minutes dying of thirst but not wanting to walk down the stairs to remedy the situation. After 2 glasses of water (yes, disgusting water), a liter of Ginger Ale and a glass of lemonade, I vowed to just drink Todd's blood if I woke up again. When I DID wake up, he was gone and I fell off the bed, opting to lay on the floor until the alarm went off. Hooray for being uber-lazy! Sucko.

The weekend was far less annoying.

I made roast beef for the first time (sorry...meat-eaters over here) to celebrate 6 months of wedded chaos and Todd loved it! SUCCESS!!! Saturday we hit the Monsters game...best logo in sports if you ask me. And for the record, Harry Buffalo has the worst french onion soup I've ever had. It tastes like gravel and disappointment.  Sunday we watched Jimmie Johnson win at Bristol...my team ROCKED...and chowed down on some steak. Steak that I don't have to prepare or pay for is always the tastiest. Lots of eating and laughing and good times this weekend.

All ruined by my inability to catch winks!

I know I'm bitching about something that's not a big deal but that's what I do! It's my thing. I'm a  major complainer today because being sleepy can do that to a person. On the bright side, if there is a bright side to being a zombie, the calendar indicates that we'll be leaving for vacation in 79 days. And after I do some scribbling on it, the calendar will also indicate that I'll be in a temporary coma all weekend restoring my awesomeness.

Who can turn the world on with her smile?

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

I like today. Even if I don't get swept up on a bunch of drunken bar shenanigans (which typically get annoying on days like today), I just like it. Last year Todd bought food coloring and made me green beer (and red, purple, blue, black...) and I enjoyed myself boatloats. The weather is nice, the sun is out, I'm gonna chow down with my family and enjoy my Irish self!

I guess I woke up on the right side of the bed today!

Rock! SHAM-rock!

(Yes, I know that was corny).

All men have secrets and here is mine.

2 years ago yesterday, Todd and I thumb-wrestled for a date.

2 years ago today, we had that date...and that sleepover.

I was rough around the edges from the St. Patrick's Day Massacre at The Sac (SO FUN) and pretty dead set on staying in bed for the rest of my life. But after a string of adorable texts (hooray for technology), I agreed to go to The Jigsaw to see some bands that I can't remember at this moment. After 5 minutes, I leaned into Megbo and said, "I think I like this guy".

I remember he said I smelled like fruit (I did...peaches...Tom Schulien says men like when girls smell like food). Hot Trash and Potsie (they sound like real bad ass jerks in a biker gang when they're actually too cute for words) said watching us was like watching a romantic comedy. He followed me home and the rest is history. Despite a few rocky spots, we're still retarded for each other. I lurve you, Weasel.

I had to think good thoughts to erase the horrors of yesterday.

Yesterday started off sucko and ended super sucko. If it wasn't for my husband making me a weiner-shaped cookie (and letting me destroy said cookie with my bare hands), staying up past his bed time so I could watch TV, and keeping my achey body in his clutches so I could fall asleep, I probably would've punched a baby and kicked a dog.

Work was basically a tornado. I had annoying computer issues and then I got some stupid phone calls harrassing me about a debt I paid off 2 years ago. Morons. Then on the way to work out, I got nauseated and dizzy. I almost felt car sick. I was peeling off clothes so I didn't over heat and rolling all the windows down. I got it together and decided to drive home instead of pumping iron...and got a flat tire right in the midst of all the Presidential visit traffic!!! And guess what? My spare was flat.

I know these are all little things and I shoudl shut my rambling mouth but they were little and annoying and added up. From what I can tell, a lot of people would like to erase yesterday from the calendars. But they all woke up bright eyes and bushy tailed, ready for a fresh start. I woke up still feeling surly and ready to punch-n-kick buildings. Bad attitude over here.

Life doesn't stop for bad days so...

Tear-stained pictures of younger days.

I'm watching "Celebrity Fit Club". Bobby Brown needs a beat down. Jackass. And these fools on "True Life: I'm a Compulsive Shopper" can just take a hike as far as I'm concerned. Is "My Life As Liz" an actual documentary about a real person? She seems mighty phony and way too cute. On deck? An episode of "Parenthood" that I missed starring the former Lorelai Gilmore. Yep. Turning my brain to mush...by choice.

And you heard it here first: Naduah or Raina will win America's Next Top Model. It'll be quite the toss up between bald-headed or block-toothed. Wednesday nights are cherished.

This weekend was pretty solid, I'm happy to report.

I got a bonus day off which I spent shopping...something I am not very good at. I rush in and out of stores like a spazz. I hate trying on clothes. I hate dealing with crowded stores and over-stuffed racks. And for whatever reason, I was not feeling my body in the mall mirror but I think a lot of it was in my head. Due to the Bronchitis, I haven't been to the gym but I'm fixing that tomorrow. And I managed to get my shtuff together enough to find a bunch of new duds and accesories without clubbing a sales girl to death with a hanger.

Todd and I had a super fun lunch date, bought our Deadbolt tickets (!!!), and went to Phoebe's art show at Brandt Gallery. The artist was as cute as could be and the work was amazing. She sold a boatload and deserves all of her success. High five. It was great to spend two days in a row drinking and gabbing with Rocko, Poppy and Carol, as we saw them all again at Phoebe and Ryan's reception, along with a bunch of my other amazing pals. Congrats and all the happiness in the world to Mr. and Mrs. Foltz. No one deserves it more. And I still owe you a "bachelorette" Melting Pot date. A little out of order but why be traditional?

Today has been quiet and lowkey. We ordered in some Chinese food, watched "Zombieland" and "Shaun Of The Dead" while the puppies munched on new bones.The hubby has hit the matress early so I'm enjoying a little chill time: blogging, bad TV, doing laundry, eating ice cream. Weekends need to be more like this one with a good balance of "me" time, out-n-about time, and quality home time. My batteries feel recharged for whatever the week ahead throws at me. I'm ready to work, I'm ready to sweat, I'm ready. Period.

And to my friends riding the rollercoaster right now, I'm thinking about you. I have zero words of wisdom. I'm just sorry that you have to be on the rollercoaster at all. You're awesome people and I hope good things quickly come your way!

We all know what she wants. Just one thing.

My bad attitude has been rearranged.

I reminded myself yesterday of all the springy goodness that will take place ones the temperature rises. Though I couldn't see it at the time of my mini-freak out, Todd told me the sun was a-shinin'. Then I re-made my list of things I will do once spring has sprung and I was smiling again.

I won't lie. The theme from "The Letter People" helped.

"Triops Has Three Eyes" ALWAYS helps.

AND I'M FEELING BETTER! Not 100% but improved.

This weekend is going to be stellar so that has my mood perked as well. Friday night is Phoebe's art show opening at Brandt Gallery and that can NOT be missed ! Hopefully we're hitting dinner somewhere awesome before or after with out pals from Utah (they are NOT Mormon so I let it slide). Saturday afternoon is Phoebe and Ryan's wedding reception jam and lots of pals from near and far will be there...even my folks!...so it's going to be a GREAT time, no doubt!

Life is good, per usual, now that I'm done being an uber-spazz.

Life is really un-fun right now.

8:00am on Saturday morning and there I was stuck at the doctor's office, again. Bronchitis. Awesome. I've been sick 3 times in the past 5 weeks and to be honest, my attitude has really become very "I don't care about anything any more".  I'm quite aware that's a defeatest attitude. I don't care about working out, I don't care about being a bitch, I don't care about getting going on the art show. I just pretty much gave up which is sucko because I felt so upbeat and pumped last week.

This is all so fucking lame, pardon my French, and pardon the fact that I'm not fond of the French. I don't want to be touched, I don't want to be talked to, I don't want to eat or laugh or anything. Maybe I should have started this out by saying I am NOT depressed. I'm don't tolerate that. Spazzy? Yes. A lot. Depressed? No. I don't work like that. I really hate feeling this way and I want to shake it off but it's stuck. I'm hoping for a drastic improvement once my lungs stop trying to escape and the weather improves.

I'm not having a pity party. I'm just pissed.

I've exercised, tried to eat healthier, lessened my alcohol intake, tried to get quality sleep, attempted to lower my my stress levels, got a family doctor to keep track of things...all to no avail. I've been poked and prodded (my doctor is hungry for blood). What's my next step? I don't believe in hollistic medicine or acupuncture, hypnosis, any of that shtuff. I certainly don't think prayer is going to suddenly give me a new immune system (sorry mom).

Yeah, I'm done bitching for now. It's not helping anything.

You gotta promise not to stop when I say when.

After reading Trash You Up this morning, I desperately want to listen to "Everlong" by Foo Fighters. I find that song to be pretty sexy, and sexy is NOT a word I frequently use. In fact, I feel sort of creepy for using it at all. Regardless, I wouldn't mind romping around to that jam. I could see things getting sweaty. Erin's blog made me feel overly nostalgic this morning. I love you, Erin. And I love that you're listed as "Hot Trash" in my phone's contact list.

I have a productive cough. I demanded the Pneumonia vaccine back in November (I think I've had it 6 or 7 times). Who wants to bet that it failed? As of this moment, I will not say that I'm "sick" because I'm still upbeat and rockin', just with a productive and annoying cough that was previously dry and annoying. And if you're over hearing about my ailments, allow me to quote Lagwagon: If they are sick of my complaining, I am sick of being sick.

I'm itching for spring. I want to ride my sweet bicycle and hangout in the sunshine, soaking up the vitamin D. Even being able to cruise around with my car windows rolled down would suit me just fine. I plan to spend more time outside this spring-n-summer. More swimming, carnivals, car shows, cookouts and the like. More bike rides and trips to the park. And I want to get ice-cream with YOU, Phoebe Jeans. I shouldn't say that I want to spend more time outside (though I do). I want to spend more time out and about (because I want to do things like go rollerskating with YOU, Erin).

I just want to make the most of good weather this year. I want to make the most of this YEAR, especially if I have a bun in the over. I refuse to get the wind knocked out of me by the 1st trimester. Let's face it...according to my doc and the internet, I'll have a harder time then most due to the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I'm just going to have to push harder and fight through it. The odds are sometimes stacked against me but if I say I'm going to do something, I try my damn best to do it.

Is it spring yet?

This is why I don't mind you doubting.

I think I might want to start playing the bass again. I loved playing "Last Caress" and "Gas Chamber" (the only song we played at our sole Buddy Hollycaust practice). Or maybe I'll take up the drums once Todd gets them set up in the Rock-a-Hula basement. I don't know why I'm trying to encorporate more hobbies into my life when I have the art show shtuff to get rolling on.

As you know, loyal readers, the song "Major Tom" by Peter Schilling sometimes brings me to tears. Well, the beginning to "Kids In America" is very similar to "Major Tom" and when I hear the beginning to "Kids In America", I automatically THINK it's "Major Tom" and tears begin welling immediately. I'm like one of Pavlov's dogs! Sorry Kim Wilde, your jam has to go!

Someone left the new strawberry/peanut butter M&M's on my desk and it's all I can do to keep from smashing them with my ineffectual fists. Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

I'm thinking it's time to move. I love our house, I do. I love the neighborhood, I love the basement, I love all /the awesome memories associated with the digs. But it's getting a wee bit cramped for 2 adults, 2 big mutts, and a growing boy who seems to be eating his weight in food daily. Dr. Nightmare, attorney-at-law? That big potato never leaves her corner. But when we add some spawn to our clan in the not-too-distant future...well, I hear they tend to grow and take up space.

Does anyone remember "Dynomints"? I WANT SOME!

STAT!

I think I'm getting good but I can handle criticism.

Finally got my hair done did and I'm doing backflips. Even got me some "peek-a-boo" highlights in this caramel color (had to get "peek-a-boo" because the upkeep on the up top would be too much for moi seeing as it took me a year to even hit the beauty parlor). I felt like a new person when I left that place. It's amazing what a new haircut can do for you. I feel about 5% less gross...every little bit helps. Thanks Christy!

We'll be in Disney World in 99 days. Holy moo cow!

Yeah, I'm not very exciting today. It was a really mellow weekend so my brain is nice and mushy. Besides the much needed haircut, we watched a lot of movies, clocked a lot of couch hours. We did cook a big turkey dinner and had Joe-n-Sharon (version 2.0) over to watch the race. We have a hot dinner date with them this weekend. It's nice to have our date buddies back minus the drahma (I added the "h" to make it extra drahmahtic). I'm anxiously awaitng an e-mail with what commoners call "The Scoop".

Before I bore myself to death, I'll exit...stage right.