Spend your lives in sin and misery.

HARRY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

I am about to drink something that bubbles and fizzes in order to stop a winter cold in it's track before heading to Niagara Falls this weekend. Should I be afraid? The directions tell me to take it at the first sign of a cold or before entering a crowded area. I'm sort of wigged out. It says it's herbal which always creates a neon flashing sign in my head saying, "VOO DOO".

Today is my birthday, my favorite day of the year. But it's been semi-disappointing. Not necessarily the birthday but the day in general. I woke up knowing the cold was on it's way and that made me slip into crabby mode. Then one of my work buddies essential to my birthday happiness was absent. I got an early morning phone call but it's not the same as an early morning hug. Then someone at work said something that hurt my feelings soooo bad. Usually I'll keep that junk to myself and slap on a fake happy smile but I couldn't this time. I was crushed and now I am feeling very self-conscious. The more the hours passed, the sadder and bluer I felt. I couldn't even throughly enjoy Gilmore Girls. I thought talking to my mom would help shake my birthday blues, but I quit after three rounds of phone tag.

The whole day wasn't a wash. Potsie messaged me entertaining little notes all day, my friends all sent loving comments to cheer me up (even Cult of the Psychic Fetus pretended to be happy boys!!), and I even recieved a birthday e-mail from my ex-husband...he hopes I had a good party (AMAZING party...check!) and a good year (he can't divorce me again so it's already looking up!). So I do feel blessed, just not as "on fire" as I should considering it's my birthday. But it's almost over. Tomorrow I start my new diet which shouldn't be hard considering I'm on my way to Sickville and probably won't have an appetite. AND we resume Pussyfoot Girl practice (and Roxy Roulette is returning soooon to be our fifthm thank GOD...Turkish Coffee is sending me into seizures!). Then on Thursday, I am taking a day off work to get a birth certificate for our Falls trip this weekend, and to travel back to the nightmare city of Kent/Ravenna to FINALLY reclaim my last name and be a Haidet no more! Social Security and the Department of Taxation demand it and who am I to argue?

Party was amazing, family fuction was comforting, 2 out of 3 ain't bad!



I usually worship my birthday. I don't know if it's the cold or my romatic situation or my poor physical imagery but I just feel rotten. I just feel on the verge of tears and that's not how I wanted to ring in 27. This is how I felt last year when 26 nudged it's way into my life:

Today is my favorite day of the year...MY BIRTHDAY! I am 26 and feelin' fine. Better than fine! I almost feel taller today. Fan-fucking-tastic. I was worried that I would be in some wacky birthday slump since this year has been less than stellar, but I gotta say, I think celebrating my birthday was exactly what I needed to make a fresh start! My car is finally going to get fixed, I get to have a kick-ass dinner with Queen B (restaurant of my choice...those little Japanese men at Benihana better be ready for me), and then who knows? Road trip, maybe. Soon I'll be a workin' girl and I won't be able to pick up and skip town at the drop of a hat. Might as well take advantage of my freedom and have a damn fine time in the process! I have it on good authority that my birthday will be spent in a rockin' fashion. That's just the way I like it!!!

Saturday was k-rad and started off with a family dinner which filled my pockets with much needed cash. I'll admit that I wasn't feeling too festive after that but once I got to the Beachland, holy Hell, it was the best birthday I've ever had. Having almost all of my dudes in one place at one time (and let me say that I love all of y'all) just made me realize that damn, life is good. So my Cleveland friends met my Detroit friends and they fell madly in love which makes me so happy. I snagged some gifts...a kick-ass Amazing Crowns pin, the new Lords CD as well as a 2 disc live set, a beautiful necklace that I am never taking off, a fucking rock-n-roll yo-yo from THE yo-yo MASTER, and...whiskey. Oh lawrdy, there was whiskey! I got spanked by the Bishop, kissed by many a boy and girl, and had the intense pleasure of seeing Lisa Marie and Karen go-go dance, hearing Crazy Danny sing "Folsom Prison" and smash his head with a beer bottle, and having Vic Victor pass out in my lap. There was dancin', drinkin', drivin' (the Koffin Kats fuckin' cargo van...YEEHAW), and crashin'...between Johnny Switchblade and Vic Victor who were clearly having a snoring contest. There were many other random occurences...Switchblade was videotaped getting a Holy Water enema, Vic got tea-bagged more than once, and I have about 150 pictures that prove that no one "brings it" better than Cleveland. But maybe we had a LITTLE help from out Detroit brothas. I'm 26 and I rang it in in style. Thanks to everyone who helped!! It was well documented on the PICS page! Some photos are R-rated!

Go out and buy the new Lords of the Highway CD ("Degreaser") right now. It is so damn good. There's nothing else I can say other than it's fucking rad. Every song is just incredible and I can't stop listening to it. Not only are those cats musical power houses, but they are a damn fine group of people in general. So please, go to their website and pick up a copy or head on out to their next live show (check EVENTS for more details). You won't be disappointed and if you are, you are clearly from Canada. Songs 5 and 8 are worth the price alone...not that I paid for mine. That's one of the perks of being a rabid fan and having your birthday celebration coincide with the CD release. SMOOTH!

Only downfall of my Saturday night? Koffin Kats thinking dedicating "Graveyard Tree" to me was a good idea. Bastards.

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.

Put rubberbands on my claws and cover me in butter. I'm a crab.

I think maybe it's an "every other year" thing but suddenly I feel very negative abut my birthday. My party was flippin' fantastic, of course. Lords of the Highway played, almost everyone I love came out in their sleepy-time attire, the fella I love showered me in affection (no matter how public the display was, it was appreciated), and I have enough whiskey to bring Johnny Cash back from the grave and then send him right back to Maggot-ville.

BUT...

...and it's a BIG butt...but...whatever...

I'm just very crabby. All I keep picturing is me, tomorrow, at home alone, watching the tube, eating cupcakes. Now while that is a HIGHLY attractive senario and it's making me a little steamy in the drawers...is that what I want to do on my birthday? And not to sound all Carrie Bradshaw or anything, but it really rots to not have a special guy to celebrate my birthday with. Sure, I have a guy...sort of but not REALLY...and I'm not even seeing that guy tomorrow. I guess I want someone (with a penis) to be excited about my birthday and want to make me really happy on that day. It probably sounds selfish but I don't know.

I'm just lonely, I guess. This weekend I was referred to as somebody's "girl" butthere was alcohol involved and I had to take it all with a grain of salt. Maybe I'll be his "girl" some day but I'm not holding my breath or selling myself short. I'm rambling, I know. I just have the blues. Last year around this time, my ex-husband (whom I was separated from at the time...imagine THAT) would just show up in the middle of the night because he wanted to sleep with me (the snoring, spooning kind of sleep, pervert). I want that. I miss that. And there's someone that I already KNOW I want to do that with but I can't because MY LIFE IS A SHAM!!!

I'm sorry. I just needed to vent. I just feel glum.

You can't stop now. It's already begun.

I just finished sucking down some Chinese food. My fortune reads:

The weekend ahead predicts enjoyment.

Of course it does! Saturday is my 27th Birthday Pajama Jam with special guest Lords of the Highway at the Ol' Kentucky Shark Corral. This will be the 6th year in a row than I've added a ring to my tree stump with the Lords. Their cover of "Dirty Deeds" is shaking me at my foundation, and that's being tame. All of my friends are really embracing the slumber party theme which is pretty boss! I haven't decided if I'm taking the slutty route or the sweet one regarding my choice of evening attire but it won't matter. No matter what I wear and mo matter who shows up (and there is some interesting debate about the guest list, *blush*), I'm going to have the most fun. More fun than you (unless you're Carol High Hair who seems to be my party companion...be ready for hugs). But it's my birthday so that's the way it goes! Recognize!

I have a crush. No, not that one! I have a sort of unorthodox crush after watching a video on VH1 Classics. It was the video for "House of the Rising Sun" by The Animals. It's a pretty tame video, as they tended to be then. The band just sort of walks around a stage setting with their instruments while the singer sings. But he sort of looks stoned. And troubled. As if the song context had actually happened to him. He looks like a wrecked man. He can't lip sync very well. He's no Brittney Spears. But man oh man, I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Now I'm going to be obsessed with that song. That guy's probably grotesque and deformed looking if not dead by now. Heart go throb.

I'm living for something I can't even define.

I am painting again and I have Phoebe and some strange man with a stick figure obsession to thank for it. We have put our artistic suits back on in this house and it is now covered in magazine clippers, cups of water, canvas, needles, ink, paint, and whatever else you can use to make something absurd. Phoebe has finished 4 pieces already. I am wrapped up in two works: one entitled "No One Has Been Knee-Deep In My Vagina In a Long Time" and my obsession, "Panty Man".

It feels so good to be sitting at work, thinking about painting. Dying to paint. I had an ex-boyfriend who loved my art. Thought of me as an artist (which I do not). Longed for my art. And then I had a husband who was better than me and therefore didn't recognize how much of myself I put into each piece. I went almost 3 years with barely working at all. I don't want to sound poetic but I feel alive again. Something that was gone came back. Like the cat who came back the very next day...you wanted him to go, he could not stay away.

It's good to have Phoebe here. We do different things in different mediums and styles so there's no artistic head-butting. It was nice to have her on the floor doing her thing while I did mine on the couch. Sound pornographic...and I like it. Welcome back paint! Try and stay out of my eye, por favor!

Speaking of feelin alive...I plan on feeling VERY alive around 10:00p tomorrow night at Nemeth's in Painsville for the Pussyfoot Girls show with Rambler 454 and Lords of the Highway. And then I plan on feeling very dead due to the very cheap, very secret PBR special that will be taking place all evening. I'm excited. I'm optimistic. I'm motivated. Things are looking pretty up in these parts, I must say.

What do you say when you can't stop shaking?

I lead a charmed life. And I don't mean charmed in any reference to those three sister witch bitches. I'm talking about my life as an Ol' Kentucky Shark. My friends are incredible people who celebrate each other's differences and personalities. I know I've said it before but I'll say it again. For the first time in my life, I know that I really belong with these people. They challenge me, they support me, they laugh at my foolish antics (drunken or sober), and they make me proud. They're good eggs, each and every one of them!

But Carol "The Shoe", she's the best egg of them all, and everyone came out to pay tribute to her 40 years as a "bad muthafuckah", to quote The Legendary Hucklebucks, who also made the trip to worship her on Saturday night. Phoebe and I got gussied up as The Avengers and rocked Yorktown Lanes at it's foundation for the Super Vixen bash! Carol had a goofy grin plastered all over her mug that night and she deserved it. Beer, broads, band, bishops...and rubber chicken!?!?!? What more could a gal ask for. We love you Carol. We are eternally obsessed.



And though we were told today that January 23rd is a depressing day, I'm going to be the exception to that rule...FOR ONCE! Things went my way ALL DAY LONG! I am a happy girl. Physically, emotionally, mentally, what have you. I should be slapped. I'd say more but my rantings are not PG-rated. Life is good. Kissing is better. My pillows have a nice smell. I'm a lucky fucking duck. Yeah, I felt the need to drop the "f" bomb. Feel free to see me. Maybe my joy can rub off on ya on this day of doom. VIVA!

Her head exploded like an atom bomb!

Last year, I made a vow to see over 100 different bands and by golly, I finally became a woman of my word! I kept track of what bands I saw (I am positive that I left some off...if you saw some shows with me, feel free to remind me. I have one brain cell left and it's asleep) and how many time so I can share with the world what a rock-n-roller I was. And then I lost the list which is a fine definition of the person I really am. But THEN when digging through the backseat of my car which closely resembles a landfill full of rotten zombie corpses, I found the list. It pains me to think of how much money I spent on music in 2005. How DO I afford my rock-n-roll lifestyle?

BANDS I SAW IN 2005

Wailin' Elroys (x2)
Gin Palace Jesters
Peelander-Z (x2)
Lives of the Saints
Dropdead Sons
Salt Miners
Lords of the Highway (x18)
Koffin Kats (x6)
Marauders
Vista Cruisers (x3)
Kiddo
The Bravado
Lost Sounds (x2)
Uncle Scratch's Gospel Revival (x3)
Hank III (x2)
Hazzard County Girls
Radio Beats
Blow Tops
Trailer Park Tornadoes
Capgun Cowboys (x3)
7 Shot Screamers (x2)
Turbo ACs
Motorhead
Interfuse
Vitamin
This Moment In Black History (x3)
Coffinberry (x2)
Pete Yorko and the One Man Music Band
Bob's Country Bunker
Pistol Whippers (x2)
Gore Gore Girls
Mistletoe
Amps II Eleven (x2)
Cobra Verde
House Guest
Throw Rag
JB Beverly (x2)
Deke Dickerson and the Ecco-Fonics (x2)
Legendary Shack Shakers
Legendary Hucklebucks
Sasquatch and the Sick-a-Billies (x4)
Cash O'Reily (x3)
Red Shift
Honkeytonk Damnation
The Hunches
Nekromantix
The Hentchmen
Zippo Raid
Bo-Stevens
Straight 8s
Deviltones
Blatant Finger
Bloodshot Bill
Rock-Ola
Thee Merry Widows
Super F'n Judo Chop
Red Hot Poker Dots (x2)
Devil Spades
Psychocharger
Speed Crazy
Brimstones
Defilers
Gravy Boat
Jerry King and the Rivertown Ramblers
Blind Pharaohs
Kenneth Brian
Kings of Nuthin'
Cool-Aide
Buck Stevens and the Buckshots
Corn Mo
They Might Be Giants (x2)
Whiskey Daredevils (x2)
Paulie Rocco
Gluttons
Self Destruct Button
The Spits
The Feelers (x2)
The Come Along and Eat It
Kill the Hippies (x2)
The Krunchies (x2)
Peter Torque
Casket Gasket
CD Truth
40 Thieves (x2)
Wayne Hancock
Reigning Sound
Al Foul (x2)
Cult of the Psychic Fetus
Rot Shit
McShits
Fashion Fashion
River City Tanlines
King Louie
The Jeffs
Catholic Boys
Functional Blackouts
Throw Down
Cunt Puppet
Slack-Jawed Yokels (x4)
Twistin' Tarantulas
Rambler 454
Hayshaker Jones
Cigar Store Indians

This year is starting slowly but it started right with Lords of the Highway rockin' out in MY basement! And tonight? Why, it's Carol High Hair's 40th Birthday party with The Pussyfoot Girls and Legendary Hucklebucks! I got my hair done this morning, my hot pants are mended, my boots are ready! I even have a teeny tiny flask to keep in my clevage! My hairdresser told me I was so lucky to have so many cool events to run off to. She doesn't even know the half of it!

And stay tuned for updates in my "cheese sandwhich" saga. A lot has happened...A LOT...and I can only imagine what is waiting for me this year as far as that goes. I thought I'd never "cheese sandwhich" again let alone "cheese sandwhich" this guy. I think maybe I've been putting guys in this pigeon hole...only like a certain type. Thinking I had to have someone more like me. I finally take a chance and open up to the possibility of something different, someone I have NOTHING in common with...and I've never been happier.

VIVA 2006!

On to somewhere near and far in time.

Switchblade and I are going to be so "in the zone" at Reigning Sound this Friday that I wouldn't make any sudden movements of loud sounds. You could totally scare us and that can lead to harsh words and coma. We're gonna be garage zombies.

I've decided that it's time I get my head shrunk. I wish I could say it was to make a shrunken head or something voo-doo-esque but it's not nearly that cool. Things are just getting crowded in there and I feel like I need to be the rational one...for now.

We lost juice at work today. We also lost the juice on Satruday. Today they let us out of our cages early for good behavior. Saturday, they should have put me IN a cage for BAD behavior. I'm just a sucker for a little sneaky business.

My back still hurts so feel sorry for me already. I am trying to reduce shoulder tension and pamper my lower back like a wuss and it's hard. But the wonder drugs help. I hope I don't end up like Rush Whatshisface. I'm too good for that, yo.

I'm still in "cheese sandwich", now more than ever. There hasn't been a disagreement or a tiff or a frowning face-off in over 17 days, oh my golly. I love all this "getting along". I love having a fella to be all 7th grade about. And vice-versa.

I see leopard print pajama pants, Oxycodone, my couch, a piece of cheesecake and a fresh new Gilmore Girls in my future. Those are currently the five things I can not live without. Feel free to marvel at the little things that move me.

I gave you love with a brand new start.

Happy Birthday Carol "The Shoe, High High, Queen La Tata" Shoe-Lane! 40 has never looked so good! I hope that this next decade of your life rocks your pants off! But not in public because that might make you blush. Fo' real...I hope you have a great birthday and that your fourties are everything you hope they will be. No birthday gift I could possible give you could show how much you mean to me, pally. HAPPY MUTHA-TRUCKIN' BIRTHDAY!

Today, I was a busy little bee at work. Buzz buzz buzzing around the office all day. The super busy days are the ones I love the most. It was difficult at first because my head wasn't properly screwed up and therefore, I was not focused. I went back to the doctor's on Tuesday because my back was still giving me grief. I returned with new medications including the bid daddy of all pain killers. It seems that my entire back was in simulatenous spasm! But once I got the hnag of which drugs to take when, I began feeling MUCH better. Until I got in my car and started driving to work and realized my head was full of fuzz! The muscle relaxers and pain killers were supposed to be short lived. I never guess that taking them at night would leave me mildly retarded in the morning. Sheeeesh!

But my back is on the mend, I've returned to work, and all is good in the neighborhood! Being so buzy at work kept my mind from fixating on things it had recently been fixating on. And it's always when you're NOT thinking about something that something BIG happens. But that's all I'm gonna say about that!

Time to go get pretty for Carol's pizza party!

I guess I'm sayin' you're the only one.

I updated my pictures of the day!----> http://rocknrollsoulsaver.blogspot.com

Put on your slap-happy pants, people, because I've had a great, great day! Fantastico, as my Italian brothers say. I'm not Italian but who gives a fig!?! Fig givers, that's who! A customer repeatedly told me over the the phone that I SOUNDED so happy. She knew I was a happy soul and also knew that dealing with me would be a pleasant experience. When she said goodbye, she told me that she hoped the rest of my day was equally as enjoyable and that I made her day enjoyable as well. I spread the wealth. If I've got it, I share it. It was a damn fine day. Pleasant as punch and pie! I will highlight today on my calendar as being the first really kickin' day I've had in 2006.

All that joy came before I even got home! And THEN...swoon!

And by the way, if you haven't pooped in awhile, have a few cocktails and go see "Hostel". The acting is terrible and there are a lot of cheap boobie shots in the beginning. But the gore is fantastic, there are trays full of rusty tools and weaponry, and the crowning gem? An eyeball scene! I leaned over to my best buddy about half way through and said, "I think you might have to spend the night". Carol "The Shoe" had to watch it through her fingers and thinks it might have crossed the line in regards to her threshold. We need more movies like this. I'm still pooping over it.

Stepped out the tub and put my feet on the floor.

I just took a shower for the first time in days. I was so stanky.

I'm feeling very dizzy and lifeless. I had to use my inhaler for the first time in forever from walking up and down the stairs. Laying on the couch for the past two days has made what little muscles I have useless. I'm crabby, to say the least. And I have a mad case of cabin fever. It set in last night. I couldn't sleep and tossing and turning is not good for my crippled back. Couldn't turn my mind off and my mind was focused on the pain. I'm an unhappy camper.

Thanks to everyone who has refilled my juice glass, brought me plates and napkins, helped me pick things up, adjested my pillow, sent "get well" messages, made comforting phone calls, and so on. I appreciate all the sympathy, for sure. I'm not begging for it but damn, I need it. I feel helpless and I hate feeling that way. I was almost surly last night watching the Pysstfoot Girls practice and not being a part of it. I was probably snippy. I apologize.

Tonight I am going to the farewell dinner for Lisa, but only for a short while. The thought of sitting in a restaurant chair when I'm not supposed to be sitting at all seems like agony. But letting her leave town without saying good-bye would be ever more agonizing. I feel like I should write her an emotional and personal farewell letter but to be honest, I'd probably just be focusing on my back pain. So I'll save that for another day when all my attention will go to her.

I can't believe she no longer has a Cleveland adress. Sigh...

Step on a crack. Break your mama's back.

We have picked a date for Niagara Falls! Here we come, Fun Street!

As I am typing this, I am standing upright. No chair for me and it's not because I'm too cool for one. I hurt my back and for the next five days, I am allowed to stand or stay horizontal. I am allowed to alternate ice packs and heating pads. I am allowed to take a pain killer/swelling reducer combo as well as a muscle relaxer that unscrews my head from it's foundation. I am allowed to eat with the medication and have chosen Chocco-Lunch that Phoebe bought me. I am NOT allowed to work until Monday. I am also NOT CAPABLE of showering because I can't get my clothes on or off without assistance. And I CAN'T stop myself from crying every few hours when the meds where off. And I can't drive which is the worst of all. No cruisin' and listening to Micheal Stanley Band and Joe Jackson for me!

Next week I can look forward to a re-evalutation, X-Rays and the answer as to whether or not physical therapy is in my future. I'm pretty bummed despite my goofy (and medicated) exterior. This is my BACK. That is a scary thing. Something near my spine has slipped out of place and it's really quite frightening. And I'm losing two days of pay which REALLY freaks me out with my property taxes being due and all. My body hates me. This is just another thing to add to the long list of bodily/physical complaints. I don't want a lifetime of back problems. I'm really sad and I don't think anyone is taking my sadness seriously because I currently sound like that one Muppet that played the saxophone in the Electric Mayhem.

Being crippled does make people admit they miss you, which is nice. And it also causes them to suggest you make a list of whatever you need them to do to make you feel better. Making that list will give me something to do over my long, lonely, uncomfortable weekend, fo' sho'. I am all in "cheese sandwhich" again. I am smiling through the pain...unless I'm crying through it.

Just let me prove it to you.

Back to work after a long weekend of drinking, drinking, drinking, rocking, eating, eating dirt, and yes, more drinking (I think I'm going to treat myself to Blue Moons more often). My body is dog-tired. My mind is dog-tired. And I don't want to sound cliche and dog-less but I think I need a vacation from my vacation! I just learned that I slipped on beer in the basement and totally ate dirt at the New YEar's Eve shin-dig but hopped right back up and kept on keepin' on. That should be my motto for 2006: keep on truckin'! But the alleged spill, may explain why my arms and legs appear to STILL weigh ten tons eventhough I've rehydrated and screwed my hear back on to my neck.

But my day didn't start out so peachy keen, to be honest and I'd really like to have more peachy keen days than rotten and fly-infested days this year. So I sucked it up eventhough it was difficult...like sucking jello through a straw...and decided to try and let things roll off my back. I expressed my slight anger and irritaion to the fella who helped make my day less than peachy keen (big jerk that he is) but also assured him that things are cool, just like Fonzie. I know people don't change over night. Or I should say "situations" because he's cool just as he is, fucked up head and all. Sure, I can't be totally "breezy" and pretend nothing bothers me because I'm not built that way (but who is?) and it usually backfires horrifically: a dude will THINK that's how you REALLY are and then when something bothers you and you REALLY react as you would, you're not who they thought you were. But I can pick my battles more carefully. a game of "he said/he said" was not worth my time. I would much rather smooch behind closed doors and get on with my day.

So THAT is what I did and I feel pretty good about it!

Look what you've done to this rock-n-roll clown.

I survived New Year's Eve without a single visit from the authorities. Life is good! I rocked out to bands in my own basement with all my pals, tried sushi, and secured a midnight kiss to guarantee a successful 2006. There were no fights, no arrests, and only one incident of cookie tossing (on my deck, sadly...and the tosser in question had been eating ham). It was drama-free, just the way I like it. And the best thing I've done thus far in the new year? That's right. I ate a piece of pie with some Sharks. I wanted to eat an entire pie but I figure I have the whole year to do that.

MY 2005 "BEST" LIST:

Since this is MY list and I can do whatever I want and you can't stop me...I sort of forgot where I was going with this. My song of the year didn't come from this year but you can stuff it for all I care. It's a good song and I only HEARD it for the first time this year. Why did I get all cranky? This is going to be short and sweet so we can all take New Year's naps.

BEST SONG: "Curtain Calls" by Old 97s
BEST SHOW: Slack-Jawed Yokels, Sasquatch and the Sick-a-Billies, Lords of the Highway, and The Pussyfoot Girls at the Beachalnd Tavern.
BEST ALBUM: "Burning Miles of Sin" by Sasquatch and the Sick-a-Billies.
BAND OF THE YEAR: Lords of the Highway. Fo' real.
BEST SURPRISE: Jimmy from Psycho Charger dedicating "Devil Snake" to me in front of everyone in attendance at Heavy Rebel.

Resolution? I've got a few...and my hopes are high.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, Y'ALL!

With your big brains and your know-how.

I can NOT turn my brain off!! It's like I just drank 100 cups of coffee but I didn't. I don't drink coffee. It's for chumps. I did just listen to my MxPx mix and wrecked havoc in my basement with hot pink and lime green paint though. I was trying to occupy my hands in order to turn my BRAIN OFF but my methods failed. I'm thinking way too much about things I shouldn't be. I know this and I know I should stop and ride the wave (or the wind, as Poison recommends) or whatever but sadly, head and heart are square dancing partners. Can't do-si-do without the other.

I think I'm lonely.

The other day, and I think I already babbled about this, an old man with one long fang was flirting with me and rubbing my arm and getting jelous of boys standing near me that I wasn't even WITH! When relaying this story I was asked, "Did you tell him you had a boyfriend?". I fo' real don't even know how to answer that monstrosity of a question. The truth is, I said, "I have several. I'm doing that juggling thing but I'm not very good at it". That's a lie. I mean, I can juggle...dudes, not bean-bags or scarves...I'm just not doing it at the moment. My declaration of activity was a lie.

I know I shouldn't be lonely since my knife (it should be life but I thought mistakenly typing Knife was so funny) is so busy and I have the Ol' Kentucky Sharks and a kick-ass (and wildly handsome, of course) best friend and a phenomenal roomie and jazz but...fo' real...they can't spoon you on the couch or hold hands with you or rub your hair or look at you "that way". That's not true (lying again). They COULD. In fact, Johnny and I held hands for 2.2 seconds at Steak-n-Shake. So yes, they CAN do these things. But they shouldn't because it would be WILDLY uncomfortable and at times, inappropriate.So...yeah...I am lonely.

I need a partner. I need my partner to BE my partner.

I'll turn down girls much prettier than you.

Here it is. The morning of my last vacation day. Oh days off, I'm sad to see you go. Especially with so much to do for the rockin' New Years Eve jam which isn't even a week away!

MAKE THE FLIER, BEAN!!!!!!

I'm not even spending my day maxin' and relaxin' as I should. I'm spending it doing last minute cleaning, measuring the basement for floor tiles (damn you, Bean!!!), purchasing said floor tiles, buying more watermelony paint and roller sleeves, picking up a Shop-Vac, fitting in a really time-consuming yet SEXXY lunch and a less sexxy shower, and on top of all THAT, I have Pussyfoot practice tonight where we have to plan our next three shows!!! HOT DOG!

Today will be busier than a plain, ol' working day! But Becky is here so that will make all my boring tasks worth doing. AND we'll get to dip marshmallows in chocolate which is ALWAYS a perk!

Regardless of all the !!! that have followed her name today, I am in love...with Phoebe Bean. She made my holiday weekend worth getting out of bed for. And she bought be a lamp that I would make sweet love to if that wouldn't lead to electrocution. A SHAG lamp! A SHAG Pink Panther lamp! It is my new favorite thing. Hands down! But I don't just love her because of her gifts...though they ARE a perk!

After my Friday of drinking with the work crew and my Saturday morning of working and RECOVERING from drinking with the work crew, I spent the evening just maxin' and relaxin' watching movie after movie on the couch with Bean. It was a perfect X-Mas Eve. There was even more chillaxin' on X-Mas since I was sick and I was pampered with a deeeeelicious breakfast (and Mimosas!!) and with some team work, a lovely little dinner party. It was great. It made me enjoy Christmas again. Maybe next year I'll actually wear more than my pajamas all day.

Actually, now that I think about it, there was something else that happened which made me enjoy Christmas again. And I didn't even have to go to a titty bar to get it. Life is good.

And last night, in honor of Becky's visit, we painted the town with blood-packets with the Shoe-Lanes and Johnny Sharko, and took over every jukebox in town! I even gave in to eating at Steak-n-Shake which I NEVER do and I really have no reason why not! It was a GREAT time. It was a "just what I needed" time. In fact, to be honest, everything that has happened since I left work on Friday has been "just what I needed". Looks like my year may actually end on a high note for a change. I'm a lucky girl!

It's criminal. There ought to be a law.

It's Christmas Eve and I have the sniffles. Sniffles is a cute word until you associate it with the fact that I've emptied so much snot and goo out of my head that I'm pretty sure it's going to wind up hollow and dry...like a mummy. I pretty much look like a disaster which is fine. The sniffles gives me a great excuse to stay in my pajamas watching Gilmore Girls season 5 and cleaning my digs all day. Sure, this means no family functions for the holidays but I'm kind of a Grinch this year anyway.

They thought my grandma might have had a stroke last night. I was in a porn shop with 4 co-workers at the time. It was suggested that my grandma may have very well had the stroke BECAUSE I was in the porn shop. I didn't buy anything though. That's not true. I bought Spanish Fly but I'll never use it. I'm afraid I'll poison someone and I have enough problems already without poisoning on my hands.

I got a bottle of whiskey and some socks in the gift exchange. My secret Santa ROCKED! And she taught me all about anal beads and how you shouldn't buy them when you're drunk because what look like cherries end up being grapefruits. The things you learn from co-workers.

Yesterday was really a blast. It was just what I needed (insert Cars song here). I didn't need to drink so much and my stomach doesn't mind reminded me, but it was still a rockin' good time. Hit the bar with a big batch of co-workers where we drank, gossiped, played darts, played pool, and at some point, went to the dirty book store! I learned so many things about everyone and I'm sure they learned a thing or two about me. The most important thing I learned is that I am NOT wasting my time...but that's all I'm going to say about that. Getting slightly molested by a dirty old man with one really long tooth (I will call it a "toof") was the only downfall.

I woke up this morning with the word "TAB" transfered from my hand (as a reminder to close mine) to the side of my face. That's how good of a night it was! And I wish you all would have been there.

Tomorrow will bring the anti-Christmas dinner at my house. I'm going to bust out the fancy plates, shove a stick of butter up a chicken's butt, and enjoy the evening in my leopard print pajama set with Bean, The Shoe-Lanes, and Ashlee Adventure. Sounds like a rock-n-roll holiday to me.

Hope your holiday rocks and rolls, too!

Maybe these will cure you completely.

I think I'm getting a cold and I'm feeling miserable. My limbs are real heavy. I have a sore throat and stiff muscles and I've been moving like a turtle or a snail or something else slow.

I have no time to be sick. I have cookies to make, last minute presents to buy, laundry to do, a basement to finish, a house to clean, a Friday function I was looking forward to, and let's not forget the ever-pressing engagement of work!

I'm stressing. I hate being sick but I feel it coming on. No juice can save me now.

Miss the vein once. Try, try again.

So today, I pretty much elected to remove my spine and slither but only after I saw another snake, who had not slept and was rocking a fierce stomach ache (caused my emotions, not illness), crawling on his belly as well. Or maybe it was some sort of animal retreating with it's tail between it's legs. Either way. You get the point.

I tried. Believe me, I did. To do what was the RIGHT thing for everyone concerned. To do what would end some of the heartbreak I was going through. To do what I thought would help ease the confusion of someone I cared about. Moral and upstanding and righteous! I made a choice and a sacrifice and no matter how much pain it was causing me and how barely alive I felt, I stuck to it.

For two whole days!!!

I tried to ignore him! I tried not to look at him! I tried not to react when he asked me if I hated him (I said I did...it was a lie! I had to tell him I was a big, dumb liar which lead directly to MAKING UP!!!!!!). The more I am apart from this person, the more I come to terms with the fact that I can NOT be away from this person! I'm sure that to plenty of people, I seem like an idiot or like a puppy or like this whole thing is just bullllllllshit. I know how it seems! I can step outside and take a look and say, "What ARE you doing? Haven't you seen like one million movies JUST LIKE THIS!?!". But there's things no one sees and knows and I know that sounds like trash, too. I just don't give a flying fig at this point!

I will be the only one in my coffin! Am I right?!?!?!

I know people want to protect me and I appreciate that, I do. But it would be nice to be encouraged or rooted for every now and again by someone on my team. Hell, someone I am just NOW becoming pally with seems to think that after all this holiday nonsense and some time, that things will go my way. And not only that, this person told me how much I would add to the life of the fella in question ( I think it was "adventure" I was bringing). I would like to think she was being honest because she has nothing to gain by lying to me. So where are MY back-up singers??

The honest truth is, I've felt like half a person since Saturday night. This may sound totally like I need to put my helmet back on but it boils down to this: I may have hurt when I was with him but I hurt far worse when I wasn't, and the same goes for him. And the only person I have to live with or make happy is myself. We're both confused. We're both feeling guilty. But we can't give each other up no matter how hard we try. It's getting harder and harder as we get closer and closer. We're like JOHNNY AND JUNE CARTER CASH!!!

This is a hard situation but I truly need some support. I'm practically begging for it at this point. I'm all jello-y. I hope everyone...at least, everyone who KNOWS the gorey and gruesome and someone despised details...can just rally for me for awhile. And keep their fingers tightly crossed.

I've never been so sure of where my heart is at in my entire life. Hopefully, all y'all can just believe in that.

"I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you"---Elizabeth Barret Browning.

It seems like it's raining all the time.

After a horrific day at work, Friday night was so good. My heart was pumped full to over flowing and we had a great dress rehearsal.

Last night, the night I've been looking forward to, was a disaster. I think us Pussyfoot Girls did a great job. Sold a little merch, didn't screw up too bad (I don't think I'll be doing "Stormy Weather" again any time soon though). Sure, I hear that we were called trash but I think that's to be expected. Tight skirts, tight sweater and all.

But there was some real damage. I got my heart broken...while sitting at the bar. How cliche. It's a long story and telling it now will just start the tears again and I can't handle that right now. I cried myself to sleep and cried myself awake. I really don't want to cry again right now. I can just say that nothing hurts worse than having a full heart broken. I went from being so happy to so incredibly sad. That transition isn't good for a person.

And a lot of people won't even care. A lot of people think this "relationship" I had was bullshit anyway. Fine, you're allowed to have your opinions. But it wasn't bullshit to me. I'm the one who pulled the plug so maybe you'll think I did this to myself but after lots of conversation, I could see where it was going...and it was going nowhere. I was assured that this person, this guy that I "cheese sandwich", was never going to change. That he was always going to be screwed up. That he just didn't know what to do.

But I love this guy...and he didn't even fight for me. In the end, I made his decision for him...which is exactly what I swore I wouldn't do.

Crying now.

It symbolizes something but I don't know what it is.

Driving home from work yesterday was a total nightmare equipped with blood, guts, gore, and practical slaughter because drivers of the world have small brains. It took me almost two hours to get home, I almost ran out of gas, and I almost got out of my car and jumped off the Valley View bridge. But I'm glad I didn't (not only because I didn't want to die in a city that smells like wet garbage) because some people weren't afraid of the snow or the morons or the effort or the distance and showed up on my door step just to say "Hi" and "Bye" because it was worth it to them. My hands still smelled like cologne when I went to bed.

And besides that, these two little neighborhood rug rats showed up at my door offering to shovel the driveway. I didn't have any money to give them at the time but promised if they came back throughout the winter (and hopefully yhr spring the mow the grass), I'd hook them up. When they left, I head them yelling, "Look out your window!!!" but was distracted by a phone call and sort of thought they might have vandalized my house in some icky, satanic, child-demon way. When Phoebe came home, she wondered whose little feet tracked a giant heart (and the word "HOT" which was discovered after work today) into the front yard. Children are adorable...and smart!

And I'll be leaving soon but tonight I'm here.

Dear Ol' Kentucky Sharks:

I just ordered 10 Ol' Kentucky Sharks hoodies for the true and genuine and loyal and dedicated Sharks that swim in my school!!! Something confusing is happening to me that is a cross between an orgasm and that hot, sweaty, mouth-watery feeling you get riiiiiiight before you throw up. Did I ever mention that Nurse Shark thinks that when I toss my cookies it sounds like an orgasm? Weird coincidence that my body is confusing the two sensations. I'm just THAT excited about ordering so many hoodies at once! I think I should say a little something about every Shark just so they know how much I love them and how I would never let a frantic swimmer poke them in the eye or punch them in the nose to cause confusion. I'm feeling sentimental today:

Six-Pack Sharker - Without you, I would have nothing to pump my fist in the air for!! You were the first Shark to inquire about getting a hoodie of your own which made me so proud and excited. SURE, you knew you WERE a Shark but weren't really sure what that MEANT, but you're learning. You're a knowledge seeking Shark.

Cutty Shark - Holy hot dogs! Our first out-of-Ohio Shark! You live all the way in Texas, I met you once, and you were cool enough to accept that you were a Shark once I declared you one! People in Texas will be jealous and curious about your Shark affiliation. You are an open-minded Shark.

Gills McHigh Hair - You are by far the most fashionable and gamourous Shark to ever swim the in the sea. We should all bow down and glorify in your beauty and keen and distinct fashion sense. Plus, you exemplify what it means to be a Shark through and through...if you don't count that one time you left me at the Beachalnd. You are a dependable diva Shark.

Shark Bones - Let's face it, all us broads want to clone Shark Bones. "Where is our Shark Bones?", we keep repeating. Who will love US until we are dried up berries? Who will make US au gratin potatos for dinner? Who will hoot-n-holler for US and support our go-go dancing ambitions? You are a dreamy Shark.

Mark D'Shark - You go out of your way to be helpful and friendly and cool. I'm certainly glad I've gotten to hang out/chat with you more this year. You have gone above and beyond, especially since Joe Strummer (I still have to take you up on those lessons) was your idea and, of course, there is always the Shark lamp. You are an good-hearted Shark.

Johnny Sharko - You will by FAR have the ugliest Ol' Kentucky Sharks hoodie of all but you'll stick out when we have our Shark School photo taken, which should make you happy. You'd stick out...in a good way...even if your hoodie wasn't bright gold and kelly green. You are, by far, my favorite Shark.

West Park Shark - This may sound gross but you are like the tiny little sharks that latch on to the big sharks to guide them, keep them company...and clean them, I think. Those big sharks would be lost without the little sharks. That's how I feel about you. You are such a big part of my life now that I couldn't possibly exist without you anymore. Sink or swim, I feel like we're in this goofy life together. You are an essential Shark.

Sharkio Del Norte - You are the smartest, wittiest, most clever and creative Shark I have ever known and truth be told, I adore you with or without a moustache! Every time you pull an idea out of your hat, I don't think you can top it and then you blow my mind. I wish I could be more like you. I wish I could tell you how hard it will be to let you go. You are an ideal Shark.

Potsie Shark Pants - We used to butt heads, admit it. But now, I don't know what I'd do without you in my life. You have quickly become so important to me. You were there for me when I needed someone the most and let me lean on you. You are always happy for me when I need someone to be. You are always encouraging and entertaining. You are a supportive Shark.

Nurse Shark - You are the first Shark to leave the school. Sniff. Things just won't be the same around this town without you, that's for sure. No one will be able to take your place and I wouldn't want anyone to try. They would fail and that would be embarrassing. We will always honor your place in this school. You are an eternal Shark.

I really and truly love, and would like to make sweet love to, all of my Sharks. For the first time ever in my life, I really count myself lucky due to the people in my life. When you're young, you think you'll have the same friends forever and then you swap them out for new ones the next week. I could never do that with these people. I worship them. It took me a quarter of a lifetime to find them. All my friends are so querky and unique and distinct and flawed...not one of them is like another. Let's get foolish and compare them to snowflakes (and then let's go read some poetry and jump off a bridge). If I smashed one of them in the face with a frying pan, they'd still be there if I needed them. They all have guts. They are all bold personalities. They all have Ol' Kentucky Shark hoodies! If I had nothing else in my life, I'd have them, and that would be enough.

Love,
Sharky O'Shannahan

P.S. If you don't have a hoodie, that doesn't automatically make you a non-Shark. I still love you, Meaghan, Pete, Jimbo, Dennis, Jen, Pat...and so on and so on.

P.P.S. There will be a second round of hoodie ordering after I recover from New Year's Eve.

Some day soon it will all settle down.

It was brought to my attention that certain frequent visitors draw from my babbling the conclusion that my life is in constant turmoil. It's not true. It's in partial turmoil and partial chaos.

If I've been ranting and raving recently and not making a lot of sense (when do I ever...yeah, yeah, I hear you), please do not lable me as "gone off the deep end" or "nutty". Anyone who really knows me can make a pie chart illustrating that boys are a difficult subject for me and loving them is even worse. After all, that is what this is all about. Boys. Or one boy in particular. My track record with the penis-wearing pack isn't envy-worthy so I might possibly have my guard up, slightly, while at the same time, not registering what a "guard" is.

I have possibly not picked the boy best suited for me or most enviable or most admired. I didn't really pick him at all. I just...fell...and I haven't been this happy or this sad ever in my life. Big letters spelling EVER. Make an impact! EVER!!!

But my life is not in total turmoil. It feels good to be back in the game, living my life, even if I'm making big mistakes, doing stupid things, not thinking things through. It's better than being heartbroken and wondering how I'm going to get through life at all. I'm ready to get some cuts and bruises. I know certain people out there are worried about me and how my heart will hold up if I am disappointed by the fella I fancy. I'm curious about that myself and can't guarantee that it won't happen. But if you would have asked me if my ex-husband and I would have ever parted ways, I would have given you one tall and think middle finger. But what do I know? I know life holds no guarantees.

I'm ready to take more risks. I'm ready to stop making the obvious choice, I'm ready, and prepared, to wait my turn if a turn should, in fact, be coming my way. After all, it has been suggested that old furniture will move out and new furniture will move in.

I'm putting "girl talk" on the backburner until there's something to say that I can ACTUALLY say. From now on...you get a regular dose of my constant insanity!

Blood will hit the pavement!

And I'm addicted to your funny face.

I'm covered in paint. In primer. In killing primer! It's all over my skin. All over my brain cells. The whole house smells like the killing primer. I feel half stoned and half dizzy. It's a fishy feeling. Swishy fishy.

So I'm covered head to toe in paint. My hair has paint on it. I'm going to throw myself in the tub but I doubt any of this gunk will come off without mineral spirits and I am officially afraid of mineral spirits. But I would like to walk to the corner to get spirit-spirits but I'm not riding THAt train until I get this lethal stuff off my flesh.

Back to the facts, Jack. The basement will be ready for a little rockin' and sockin' by New Years Eve. It will be so intense and insane and unimaginable that I would not bring anyone pregnant or weak of heart so they don't just flip out and die. Leave your granny at home! That's how just...POW...this basement is going to be if my brain cells aren't friend by the killing primer first.

Sugar has a boyfriend. Phoebe and I are jealous.

Did she kiss him and cry?

My head is really heavy. It has gained several pounds since the beginning of this year. And you would think with all the rotten, fly-infested TRASH that went on at the beginning of this year, my head would have slimmed down. Heck, unloading all the venom-spitting hatred I had for my former husband (I even sent the skeevy bastard a genuine and sincere birthday greeting) should have practically made my head float away like a balloon, light as a feather.

Pfffffffffffffffffft.

I'm trying to find some sort of balance that is easier than walking a tightrope, blindfolded, while carrying a pregnant and somewhat aggitated leopard. I would like to keep my head AND my heart. Ya dig? Once again, this would all be so much easier if I could just talk about what's gnawing on my brain but I have hypothetical masking tape over my mouth. I am at this obnioxus fork in the road where if I go to the left, I'll hurt. If I go to the right, I'll hurt. And I just can't stay where I am because it puts a symbolic dunce hat on my skull. Did I mention that this is a meat fork?

This is a meat form.

I was a name. Now I'm a number.

Lords of the Highway and Slack Jawed Yokels have confirmed for Lisa's New Year's Eve Going Away Party hosted by yours truly at the Ol' Kentucky Shark Corral. I'm going to need a change of panties close by due to anticipating high levels of excitement and adrenaline.

My fist is going to pump itself to death.

And now another episode of "The Rollercoaster Goes Up, Up, Up and the Rollercoaster Goes Dooooooooooown". Phoebe pointed out that I've had a lot of headaches recently...darn tootin'! I've decided that the teeny weeny man that is sitting on my brain is actually sitting on a pile of mashed potatoes as that is what my gray matter has become. He's snacking away and it's causing me cranial discomfort.

I should walk away but I can't from "my sitch". I'll be totally honest, I know what is best and I know what is right but I'm choosing to put earmuffs on. It's like I have Big League Chew stuck to my shoe. Sure, I put it there but whatever. Of course I want a decision to be made but I don't want to be the one who makes it. Does this make any sense at all? I'm sure it doesn't. Just pretend you're watching "Donnie Darko" and be entertained but don't expect to understand one second of my jabber.

I was almost okay until tiny feet walked up and down my back. <---sucker

Planning for Rockabilly Holiday has been helping me keep my head attached to my neck. I'm really looking forward to it, aside form the fact that I have yet to pick an individual routine. I'm tossing around the idea of throwing on a grass skirt and a coconut bra and busting a hula-groove to "Rock-a-Hula Luau", my former theme song. It's actually the idea that's brought me the most joy thus far. My picture should be under "luau" in the dictionary. Hold the pineapple, yo!!

I want to have a grilled-cheese sandwich and Ring Noodle soup for dinner because I think I'm getting a sore throat/sniffles. I can't handle that right now. I can't have my body and my mind duking it out "Rumble In the Jungle" style.

We're gonna get it on cause we don't get along!

She's drying her jeans in separate machines.

I bought a pair of Go-Go boots and I'm not afraid to use them.

And I have just a few random thoughts for you: me, a married man, a busty young lady, a comfortable matress in my room, and some chicken wings. Do with it what you want.

I had a full afternoon. Full in a "I just ate 6 slices of pizza and a Colt 45 after I stole your jelly donut" sense, but it had nothing to do with food. I got emotionally fed. There is officially a flying saucer resting on my brain. I imagine that any minute...any SECOND...out with jump a TEENY WEENY MAN! He'll walk up to my brain and say, "Take me to your leader", but my brain won't understand!

You might as well do with THAT what you will, too, because God knows I have no CLUE what to do. The translation from "cheese sandwich" to "love" has been registered. And now my life got flipped turned upside down. Will Smith stole that from me.

Well I think I'm lame, too, but that's what I do.

Scabs are there for healing purposed. Do NOT remove scabs.

I made it through yet another holiday without my head detaching from my body. I rewarded myself by purchasing black patent leather go-go boots for the Super Vixen birthday party. Besides a glass of wine, it was Switchblade and my nieces and nephews that kept said head from rolling right into the mashed potatoes. They can feel free to borrow the go-go boots for being so cool.

The most ultimate Pussyfoot practice took place yesterday. I should mark it on my calendar. Rockabilly Holiday should end up being our crowning gem if we keep this preparation ball rollin' the way it is. We conquered the evening itinerary, PFG song selections, set lists, costume design and measurements, and even some mild choreography. I'm happy to report that Von Bondies' "No Sugar Mama" has made it onto the list as well as the song "Turkish Coffee" which will be stuck in your head for days on end! It got Switchblade's thumbs-up of approval. I plan on rockin' the most foolish facial expressions the entire show. I'm thinkin' circa 1960s beach party faces. Classic.

Today was our annual Cookie Day. I was so tired from work (did you know that they have a 5:00 in the MORNING too?!) that I barely helped. I am ashamed of myself. But my mom did give me a holiday Jones Soda set with flavors such as Turkey and Gravy, Brussle Sprouts, and Pumpkin Pie. You'll all be sampling them on New Year's Eve and if you have to puke, you're puking on a globe and that's that!

I was supposed to meet The Shoe-Lanes for dinner but missed out due to Cookie Day festivities. Now I fear that I'll be missing the post-dinner hang-out seesion because I pretty much have toothpicks holding my eyelids up. I'm lying. I know this because that imagery is terrifying. But I am dog tired. And I smell like a dog.

Miss Phoebe Bean has been MIA (which is a fancy term for "in Florida") but is returning tomorrow. I will be spending the day priming the basement, awaiting her "come get me from the mother-truckin' airport" call.

"I drop my drawers for pompadours".

You know we couldn't live without you!

If you're not listening to "No Sugar Mama" by Von Bondies, you should be. I'm making it a future Pussyfoot Girls song. It's sexy. This is off the subject though.

CAN you teach an old dog new tricks?

I'll be honest. I freaked yesterday. You shouldn't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to unless you're REALLY prepared for the truth (I should at least be happy that I got that, right?).

Yesterday, I was not prepared...especially when things were walking a very fine line. The person I was walking away from did NOT want me to walk away...which made it that much harder. I tried to take the high road and do what was the RIGHT thing to do. The noble and moral and right thing to do, no matter how much it was destroying me...I ended up heartbroken and bawling. This is cryptic, I know. Consider this my version of Hieroglyphics.

Let's just say that I had a rather lengthy cocktail hour after work. And let's also say that I have a rather nasty gash on my forehead.

But we don't have to say that the two are related.

But when I started my day this morning, I abandoned that lame ass high road. If I didn't know how I felt before today, well..I know now without the tiniest doubt. I'm hooked. It's like heroin, but probably worse for me. But I compare yesterday and how I barely felt alive with today and how I blissfully happy I was...and he was, telling me he'd never let me go...and I'm choosing to hold on to hope that my day will come.

After all, we're like psychotic magnets.

On a less mushy note, it looks like I won't be going to Niagara Falls for Thanksgiving. I was planning to run away but it looks like the weather had other plans for me (unlike SOME PEOPLE, I don't get to be in sunny Florida...you're missed already, by the way...Dr. Nightmare's been crying outside your door, annoying bitch). I guess it won't be me, a blueberry pie, and a hotel on Fun Street.

The stupid weather also ruined my plans to go to the Jigsaw to see Lords of the Highway tonight. The way I was holding my breath (I'm BAD in the snow...like, terrified) for the few turns I did take in my 'hood, I would have passed out before even getting close to Parma. I don't want to die with only seventy-some days until my birthday.

My dad took me out for really good steak. Between that and everything being "back on", I feel round and happy. Really happy.

My heart's been broken from too long a wait.

What a show. I mean, cross a drunk dinosaur with an Epileptic performance artist and shower it all in fake blood and feed the audience acid-laced candy. That about sums it up.

THERE WERE SHOTS! LOTS OF SHOTS!

I kissed many boys and slapped Sasquatch across the face per his request.

Potsie and I nailed our dance for the Sick-a-Billy crew and I think they were more than pleased. And man-oh-man, the mother-truckin' flag dance?? It made me sweaty with feverish excitement!! There were some "OOPS!" moments but nothing we won't recover from. The CD was bound to skip at one show or another. I'm almost glad we got it out of the way now. And rumor has it there are some pretty sick (the good kind of sick not the puking your cookies on your mother's lap sick) photos out there. I'm jazzed beyond belief. And post-show, well...I love being a Pussyfoot Girl.

Lisa "Mamacita" Marie has retired. That's her choice. I don't like backing-up that choice since she had one more show to go but it's not up to me. She has to do what's right for her. She'll be missed but that's all I'm going to say about that.

I'm excited for Rockabilly Holiday. I'm going to bust my butt...we all are. That's all I can focus on right now...new routines, costumes, practice, and perfection. This is our chance to be fancy. I'm not going to let it pass me by. Sho 'nuff.

Got some interesting news today. Someone I love (and I mean LOVE...no "cheese sandwich" business here) is growing a human being in her uterus. While I have awildly different outlook on the situation than her, I back her up. That's what I'm here for. To support the ones I love and I have a feeling that for the next 8 months, she's going to need some helping hands and loving arms. She's got 'em here!

I'm missing Brian Setzer tonight. I have too much on my mind to give him the attention he needs.

The "we're going to rock 2006 in in my rock-n-roll basement" project got goin' yesterday and I've gotta admit, I'm getting mroe and more excited about the New Year's festivities. If you're not here, you're a moron. I'll be wearing a new dress and having more fun than you.

Carol "The Shoe" Schulien made me some mashed potaters than I plan on devouring. Teh destruction begins in 30 minutes.

I'M VIAGRAVATED...and I'm not going to take it.

I saw her today. I saw her face.

My head is pounding. THROBBING! I'm waiting for an alien to emerge any second. Or maybe a monster. Either way, my brain hurts as does the skull surrounding it. I'm praying the rush hour just doesn't exist today because I don't think I'll be able to give "focusing on the road" my all. They should take my license away.

Regardless.

Pussyfoot dress rehearsal tonight for the big show with Slack Jawed Yokels, Sasquatch and the Sick-a-Billes (HECK YES!) and Lords of the Highway tomorrow at the Beachland Tavern.

Potsie and I really need to bust out butts so we don't royally shmootz our new routine that we're debuting. I don't want to look like more of an ass than I already do shakin' my can in my skimpy attire. I wonder if my jugs have the power to hypnotize the audience. Where did that even COME FROM!? I'm looking forward to hanging with the Sasquatch crew (me, Dave, drinking contest...bring it!) and preventing them from ever returning to Rhode Island. The night is going to be a blast and I cherish that since I haven't looked forward ot much recently. AND I PLAN ON HAVING ONE HELL OF A HANGOVER!!! As long as we can get our kitty shit together, that is.

Not much else to report. Nothing I can openly discuss any way. Just know that I'm still eating cheese sandwiches.

Got a heart beat. Got a pulse.

I have NOT been drinking. I'm surly. And imbalanced.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck blah blah blah blah blah blah blather blather blather blather blather blather blather blather blah blah blah blah kill kill kill kill kill kill kill killlllllllllll rot rot rot rot rot rot fuck fuck fuckity fuck shit.

And blather.

I need to get a human heart. I have a lot of blood I have to pump out of my basement.

Snarl.

Speaking of my basement, does anyone want to come help wreck some shit in my basement on Sunday? And speaking of wrecking shit, I mean does anyone want to help me carry shit up the stairs and wash walls and the floor and shit to get it ready to be painted pink and green and black like a watermelon so that Lords of the Highway can rock the fruity shit out of it on New Year's Eve? You'll be my friend forever if you help. I need help.

And if you don't want to help than SCREW YOU! The vice preseident of my company is an Ol' Kentucky Shark which makes him cooler than you. In fact, you're fired!

And speaking of work, I cried there today.

Thank you and go skeet shoot yourself in the chest in your ex-girlfriend's drive-way. But while you're doing that, do NOT ruin Phoebe's date. I need someone in the house to have a normal relationship because Switchblade and I are dating disasters.

I've got something new for you.

My jugs are sore. I find this both annoying and painful.

So I decided to roll up my jeans, throw on my new grey t-shirt and go with Switchblade to the final day of Horrible Fest. I didn't want to spend my day being a wet mop and regretting my absence later. I'm sick of regrets.

The matinee show was a total bust and I was pretty much miserable. Kids throwing chairs and beer everywhere, screaming "MOTHERFUCKER" like it was going out of style, sporting sunglasses indoors (according to Switch only blind people and assholes do that), irritating me left and right. While Kill the Hippies were good, River City Tanlines only played 5 songs! And one of them was NOT "Gimme Whatever". Hmph! I was glad to blow that pop stand.

Headed over to the Beachland which was a fairly entertaining time and here are my one-line band reviews that no one will care about or agree with but me: The Jeffs were a sturdy opener. The Krunchies ROCKED per usual (I just adore that gal). Functional Blackouts, while not at all frightening, were probably my favorite act of the evening. King Louie was a welcome surprize. Cunt Puppet was damn funny, in my opinion. Upstab pretty much scarred me for life and that singer needs a tranquilizer. The Feelers were great but caught me late in the evening, close to sleepy time. And Catholic Boys were fan-fucking-tastic but it was no Horizontal Action Blackout of 2004.

It was good to hang with my crew, especially T-n-C Dynomite who I really wasn't expecting (sure, they told me they were coming...I guess it was THAT I wasn't expecting) but it wasn't as mind-blowing as I had imagined. I'm not too fond of the kids in that "scene". I hate scene debates so I'll just leave it at that...they're not the friendliest bunch.

And that is pretty much all I have to say about Horrible Fest.

Except that I tossed my cookies the second I walked in the door. I knew I was going to on the way home...I was pre-warning Switch who really didn't want me to throw up (why would anyone WANT someone else to throw up??). I wasn't drunk or buzzed or anything. It was just the second night in the row that I felt sort of seasick. I came in and sat on the bathroom floor, filling Phoebe in on the evening until I had to interject and say, "It's time for me to throw up now". I'm two and a half pounds lighter than I was Friday morning. No joke.

Today, Phoebe and I ran errands and everytime I got back into the car, I felt my stomach churning. I don't know what the deal is. She says it's morning sickness. I say. "EAT IT!". I'm guessing it's some left over reminents from my flu bug.

We almost came home with a dog. An Italian Greyhound...they can wear hats! I would have named her Santo because she looked like she had a mask on. Thank GOD she was $899. I really don't need a dog. I don't NEED a dog but that really means nothing.

I NEED a shower before the folks come over. Now THAT means something. I have "Close Yer Tab" written on my hand.

OK, go off and wander. I'm guilty just the same.

10 minutes ago, I had boatloads of things to say and now...poof! Nothing.

I have a lot on my mind but I can't really sort it out in a reasonable enough fashion to make it able to be discussed. It's like I have a head full of Goldfish crackers that keep getting eaten by some random mouth that's hanging out in my head. God, even my explaination of why I can't explain doesn't make much sense. I guess I can handle that. I don't have much of a choice.

I'm going to Horrible Fest today. I had planned on going to all three days but completely lost interest, contracted the plague, and was warned that I wouldn't have a good time. No big thing. I'm just not excited about much these days...not because I'm being all emo and drab and boring. There just hasn't been anything that's jumped up and bit me in the ass with a flashing neon sign saying, 'YOU CAN'T WAIT TO DO THIS'. Brian Setzer is in two weeks and the prospect of going to that alone is even decreasing it's value.

I'm pretty jazzed about seeing the Sasquatch crew next week. I'm secretly hoping that they DO hit me over the head and take me back to Rhode Island with them. They claim I'll like it there and a new scene might do me good.

But my current "whatevs" attitude isn't the only thing clogging up my skull these days. In fact, that's really pretty trivial stuff. I've got a flapjack sized stack of work issues, living issues, the ever-present boy issues, money issues...and on and on. My crowded cranium makes me want to spend yet another day wrapped up like a burrito in my bed, ignoring that life actually exists outside my frozen home.

There's also an issue involved a LOT of cookie tossing. Tossing my cookies all over Cleveland to be exact. But I'll save that for another day because my stomach is acting pretty angry right now.

Put your arms around me child. Lay with me tonight.

Why is it that getting a cold makes you want a boyfriend?

The some-what sympathetic and non-intentional germ-spreading Miss Phoebe Bean sent me home from work since I have officially contracted my first cold of the season. Blast! Last night was utter misery...I missed OKGO (I pray you didn't dance, fellas...in fact, I hope you sucked for my own sake) and was pretty much in a whimpering agony. Tried to tough it out and go to work but who was I kidding?

I've stocked up on Ring Noodle soup, OJ, tissues with lotion, and some fancy shmancy Tylenol cold junk with some "cool burst" action that makes me think I could freeze enemies with my breath! Or knock them over because it is some mighty special breath I'm sporting right now. Kittne breath and then some! Regardless, I am destined to be a burrito in my bed once the soup's on. Don't expect much word from me until I am back on top again.

Sound dirty? I sure hope so.

I'm afraid to mention my anguish.

There's nothing like spooning on the couch against a boy you really, truly like who is rubbing your head, talking to you about celebrity gossip, and telling you how gigantic your ribs really are to make you say, "Damn...I miss having a fella of my own".

Tonight I am supposed to see OKGO at the Grog Shop but I feel one helluva cold coming on (I call it the Phoebe-Virus). All day, I've been sniffling, sneezing, and coughing my blasted head off...and it's barely attached these days. My insides are itchy...like I wish I had a brush I could stick down my throat to sort of pumice myself from the inside out. Supposedly I'm the only one who ever feels like this.

Phoebe thinks I have pleurisy.

At work, I have been repeating over and over "I am not sick...I am not sick", because even though the symptoms are there, I haven't begun to drag. My muscles aren't sore yet and my head isn't totally full of fog and weight. Like Bad Brains says,I've got that PMA! But believe me, I am an illness pro and I know it's coming. So the smart thing to do would be to get into my pajamas, eat soup, drink juice, and just veg so that I don't miss any work and my strength is saved for Pussyfoot (rumor has it that Sasquatch and the Sick-a-Billies are taking me home with them...supposedly I'll love it in Providence). Phoebe has been sick for over a week...I can't hack that.

But she's pretty dern excited about the show (and hasn't been too jazzed about things recently as she was existing under some heinous black cloud of sorts) and I don't want to wake up tomorrow kicking myself in the arse because I didn't go and missed "So Damn Hot" and "Don't Ask Me" live. Plus, this is a prime opportunity for Phoeberalla and I to expand my photo booth picture collection.

But I know I'm sick. I know what I SHOULD do. I just don't know what I WILL do. Whatever decision I make, it will be rough. If I go, I may be miserable and may extend my sickness and by extension, my misery and the misery of those around me. If I don't go, I may be miserable because I didn't go to Dick Dale, didn't go to Hank III, am not going to the Blasters, and have decided on only 1 out of 3 nights of Horrible Fest. What's happening to the rocker I once was? Not even green/yellow phlegm and barking would have stopped me.

This is the time when I need a boyfriend to force me to stay home and rub my stuffy head. Someone with a big stomach I can fall asleep on. Boys with big stomachs tend to be warm and warmth induces naps. Man, I would give all my cinnomin donuts to fall asleep while a boy was rubbing my head. That would beat the pants of cold medicine, tissues, pajamas, orange juice, a good nights sleep and OKGO live combined!

But I digress.

Crawling like a dog!

I went to the Jigsaw Stage for the first time last night after cramming myself full of fondue with Mr. Bones, Mrs. High Hair, and Johnny Switchblade. The food was excellent, the company rocked, and Cult of the Psychic Fetus (that Ghastly is just as cute as a button...which probably doesn't sound very threatening OR manly) played "You Can Make It If You Run". What more could a girl ask for?

I predict today will be somewhat stressful and an ultimate pain in the ass but it must be done...the basement MUST be conquered! I'm having the ultimate New Year's Eve party (and going away party for my darling Mamacita...sniff...if I poke her eye out, will the Air Force still take her?) equipped with live bands. They need somewhere to play. They need to play in the basement...and I need to prepare it. Switchblade is helping in exchange for a mom and pop shop pizza and the season finale of Ultimate Fighter. I've got less than two months to make it cleaner, bigger (it can be done with a sledgehammer and some shelf removal), cooler, and HOT PINK! Besides, I've been dying to hang up my Spits poster for some time now.

So if you don't hear from me by Monday...just assume I died in the basement. Feel free to stop by and visit me so I don't go batty.

I hope there aren't bats in the basement.

If I could see her again, wouldn't be so tongue-tied.

My Darling Dear Daniela:

If I could explain to you what is going on in my head, heart or vagina (bet you didn't know we were such good and graphic pals), I would! HECK, I wish I knew myself! Fat AND bald...WHO KNEW!?!? Certainly not me! I was dead set that there would be some pretty fierce muttonchops in my future. Not with anyone I currently know, per se. I just expected, you know, the USUAL. For whatever reason, this bald beast of a man is stitching up my shredded heart muscle and while I WISH it was someone I had more in common with, it feels pretty gosh darn good and I'll take it! I really wish I had some way to explain it to you but I'm not usually lovely dovey, ya know? I'm TUFF! I crush people with my bare hands! I eat TEETH and NAILS for breakfest! *pounds on own chest and chugs a beer*. But this guy...I don't know. I'm starting to think Paula Abdul had it right all along. Not when she sang "Rush Rush" and made that video with Keanu Reeves, but when she did that whole "Opposites Attract" thing with that cartoon cat. Yep. It still makes no sense. I just want to sleep on his big, fat, mountain of a stomach. Besides, I'll look even thinner and prettier by comparison! Yeah, I'm shallow.

And in love.

Come visit me (and Phoebe, too, I guess) soooooon!

xoxoxoxoxoxo
You-Know-Who

I'm sitting here with a stupid grin slapped all over my mug. For cryin' out loud, I think I may even be blushing. I hate blushing. And I also hate the fact that in my car today, I noticed a smile line. Can you believe THAT?! A SMILE line! I wish I could go into graphic detail about my goofiness. I wish I could climb on some random roof top in a highly popluated area and shout a few specific tid bits to the world but alas, I have invisible tape over my mouth.

I had a great day today.

I am becoming a pro-misbehavor.

I love smooching. And the copy room.

Cause there's nothing like the real thing.

Eleven times a scapegoat.
It’s not a hug, but a choke.
And you’re not what I’ve been missin’.
I’ll be damned before I listen to you.

Everything you want.
And nothing that you need.
But somehow it all just fits in.
I’d climb your mind just to go wishing.

I guess there’s no use really cause.
Cause there’s nothing like a real thing.

Welling up in my throat.
I love you, you must know.
There’s not much that needs fixin’.
I can’t quit when I’m addicted.

I guess there’s no use really cause.
Cause there’s nothing like a real thing.

I'm not sure where any of this is going. I'm not sure when or if or how it's going to end. I have a stack of headaches building up. 6 months ago I swore up and down that there was no chance of me "crossing the line", not with this guy or with anyone. I'm so far over that line I'm not even sure where it is anymore or what it even stood for. Is that a good thing? Is my heart in trouble? I didn't think I was ever going to be capable of "cheese sandwich" again in my life...and here I am. He has sad blue eyes. He has headaches. He knows, really, he does. And he is speechless.

And because of him, I want to paint like I never have in my life!

And everything's turned upside down.

I love you, Pussyfoot Girls. I am very proud of all of us. We rocked the big stage without many of our close, personal dudes there. We really earned those applause. We performed to a new crowd and I think we pulled it off. I still can't believe I wore that outfit but when Potsie said I looked like a pin-up girl, well, how could I NOT wear it? I'm sure there's a seat in Hell reserved for me now! But I had a lot of fun and I love each and every one of you fiesty chicks. It is my pleasure to perform with you every time. Even that really HORRIBLE time! I am truly looking forward to November and December's shows. VIVA LA PUSSYFOOT!

Tomorrow is my second favorite day of the year (nothing surpasses February 7th...NOTHING) and I'm feeling slightly blue about it. I went to the traditional family Halloween function today which I usually love and felt so out of sorts. I really felt like I had no one to talk to. Everyone had someone and I was just...me...the girl whose mother forbids her to date (thinks it's too soon, which it may very well be) and makes her feel like she probably never WILL date and that getting married again is pretty much out of the question and won't be taken seriously just like the FIRST marriage...the one that failed. I really haven't felt this alone in awhile and the sting is unbareable.

It really hit me today that I don't have a family. My mom has her husband and her kids. My oldest sister has her husband and her kids. My other sister has her husband and her kids. In fact, everyone there had a spouse and kids and a life that didn't include being a 26 year old, divorced, part-time go-go dancer with exceptionally big hair, lots of tattoos, and championship drinking skills. Even my 16 year olf nephew has had the same girlfriend for over a year with no signs of a break up! I don't have a family. I had a husband and he didn't want me. I think I had a gut check moment about that today. My husband didn't want me...he threw me away. The one person out there that DOES want me (and I want as well...because believe me, there are some real duds out there that want me) can't REALLY be with me. So where does that leave me? Alone. And it rots.

I'm not having a pity party so I hope it doesn't sound that way. I'm just feeling awfully blue right now. Tomorrow, I probably won't dress up or do anything fancy at all where Halloween is concerned. I'm going to pass out candy for the first time at my new digs which is exciting but instead of spending the evening at Groovie Ghoulies (don't want to see my ex and his new broad when at this time last year, he returned home from Groovie Ghoulies with arm loads of gifts for me because I was so missed), I'll be spending 45 minutes with Johnny Switchbalde, my new trainer, turning fat into muscle and getting cut. I need to do something to change my 'tude and I think better thighs might help in that department. The rest of my Halloween will probably find me buried under my blankets watching 'Poltergeist'.

At least it's almost N4 and plan A1, B1 or B2, or C will take place.

If you know, you know.

Get's real mad when I get drunk-o-matic.

Want to have your mind completely blown? Try and wrap it around this. From November 7th to November 18th (that's a 12 day span), I will be going to 9 shows!! 9 shows in 12 days. What a power house! This may be my crowning achievment. This may forever solidify my rocker status. I've been slacking but this might just pull me out from the pits. And quite the assortment too. Can I get a yeehaw?!? I DO need some companions for certain shows. Please feel free to step up.

Where you will find me during the 12 days of Rockmas:
11/7: Hank III @ the Grog Shop.
11/8: OKGO @ the Grog Shop.
11/9: Blasters @ the Grog Shop (might be sacrificed).
11/10 - 11/12: Horrible Fest @ various locations.
11/13: Rasslin' @ the Beachland Ballroom.
11/16: Quintron and Miss Pussycat @ the Grog Shop.
11/18: Sasquatch and teh Sick-a-Billies @ Beachland Tavern.

Speaking of shows.

Our Pussyfoot show on Saturday night was...interesting...to say the very least. I think we put on quite the show, per usual, but this being a private party (for Jimbo's home coming), I'm not sure how well-recieved we were. 4 gals prancing around in their britches to the best rock-n-roll around...in front of grandma and grandpa and some disapproving folk. Yikes. Usually, no matter who's watching, we have fun. I think this may have been the first time we let the heat get to us and didn't have such a swell time.

But we're not going to let one show break our spirits. Every band (and what not) has shady shows. It happens. We did it for Jimbo and that's what counts. We're going to bounce back for Devil Doll (this Saturday at the Beachland Ballroom) and bounce back even HIGHER for the Rockbailly Holiday which we will be performing at AND hostessing this winter. Don't fret. This isn't the last you've seen of The Pussyfoot Girls (even if you were PRAYING we'd go away). As the wise Dave Sasquatch once said, we must get our slights and downfalls and use it as fuel to be bigger and better next time around...help it bring us to that next level.

Next level...here come The Pussyfoot Girls!

They're big and round. They're all around.

Quick summary?

I'm still in cheese sandwich despite people's efforts to squash my (unrealistic) dreams. I can live with that. What I can't live without (for the time being) is the thrill I get from this fella. He's worth the risk...risking my heart splitting in two, never to rejoin again. I even discovered the lengths to which I'd go to save his life. But I don't want to make all y'all throw up.

I do have a lot on my mind. It's very crowded and it's giving me a headache. But everyone suffers. It's the American way!

Had Pussyfoot practice tonight in preparation for Jimbo's Welcom Home shin-dig this weekend and opening up for Devil Doll at the Beachland (main stage, baby) next Saturday, the 29th. We're using our Lime Spider set but we have big things planned for the Rockabilly Holiday this winter. A taste or two? You might see a new closing number. You might see some individual dishes (I'm tossing around the idea of using "Orgasomatic" by The Heptanes or "Get On Your Knees" by Devil Dogs). You might even see some tight skirts and tight sweaters. Just know that you'll be entertained. Not sure if that's good or bad for YOU but we always have a damn good time,a s They Might Be Giants, and countless others, would say.

Tomorrow, there's a pajama jam at my house for any of my nearest and dearest. Eating Chinese food and watching "A Dirty Shame" in our pajamas at The Ol' Kentucky Shark Corral. More info if you ask reeeeeaaaaaal nice!

Chicken on the fire. Object of my desire.

I survived the weekend to everyone concerned about me. I am alive.

While Friday night's pre-wedding party was a blast and a half (I was blanketed in people who love and take care of me), the actual wedding was a bit rougher on me than I had predicted. Luckily, I had Switchblade (he can actually be quite comforting when he needs to be) and Potsie (my mother truckin' hero) there to take care of me and I came out on top. I can't see myself having to deal with the ex (or his new girlfriend who was in attendance for the wedding) any time soon. And to be honest, when Ben and Lisa move (sniff sniff), I can't really see running into him anywhere but the occasional show...not at any social engagements anyway. We don't share many common friends these days. So...my heart is on the mend. My wedding bell blues was merely a slip up!

I was invited out for a post-work cocktail with the man I cheese sandwich. I figure I am really falling hard because I could sit there and listen to him talk forever. It's like my favorite thing to do. He's helping me become a championship listener. He's helping me do a lot of things I didn't think I could do. Swoon.

But what's really important is taking the time to congratulate Ben and Lisa and thank them for letting me be a part of their special day. It was a great event. Sorry if I got too drunk. But where Lisa is concerned, I'm not sure there's any such thing as TOO drunk! Anyway, thanks guys. Deep down under all of my anti-marriage layers, I'm truly happy for you.

I am fairly certain I am going to toss. Chicken fingers ain't sittin' pretty.

She's touring the facility and picking up slack.

Today things were slightly odd between me and my fella. Phoebe sent me a text message that put my mind temporarily at ease: "I'm sure he is just thinking too much. He faxes you. Don't sweat it". 'Fax' is the Phoebe version of 'cheese sandwich'. I don't know if she really thinks that (about all the faxing going on) or if she was trying to appease me because my mind is going one bazillion miles an hour about the subject and I have ENOUGH on my plate for the weekend. I don't think she'd say it unless she thought there was a chance. Regardless, the sentiment totally made me want to fax her a cheese sandwich.

And why will this weekend me so tuff for me?

To be honest, I shouldn't even be ON HERE! I snuck out of work early just because I have one gazillion things to do and sadly, I do not have one gazillion hours to do them in. I think I just need a half an hour or so to chill and get my head in the game or I'm liable to fucking explode between now and Monday. I don't think anyone wants that. Blood and brains never look good on a wedding dress. Here's how my whirlwind of a weekend is shaping up:

Friday: Tonight is the pre-wedding party which Johnny is sure witll be "a rager". I am on snack patrol. Crossing my fingers that my ex-husband won't be there but won't sweat it if he is. I have lots of back up to help me be comfortable. But while that event will be FUN...there is so much to do BEFORE! I need to clean my car out, clean up my house (which is bieng turned into a hotle over the weekend, or so it seems), go to the bank, go get snacks...sheesh! Can't stay out toooo late cause I plan on cutting loose tomorrow, which is...

Saturday: ...wedding day. Pre-wedding, I have to finishin cleaning, get some beverages for my guests, dye my hair, buy birthday presents for my nephews, get a wedding card, go get my hair DONE, bathe, paint toenails, have a manicure, groom in general, dress, make sure my date doesn't have a hangover and has at least brushed his hair, and get to the place on time and PRAY Alicia doesn't forget my fan (I don't want to be the only bridesmaid without a fan). OH! And I CAN NOT forget Ben's gold tossing coins. DAMN IT!

Why do they leave things to remember up to the person with the WORST MEMORY?!? The wedding will rock as long as I don't trip and eat dirt. But being at a wedding...with my ex-husband...it's going to kill. Hardcore. And no one will understand how I feel. Luckily, I have a kick-ass date (who assured me he's been practicing his cuddling for afterwards), Phoebe will be there to tell me to stand up straight, the Shoe-Lanes ALWAYS have my back...so I should be OK. Even when Ben talks about divorce in his vows. It's just...this guy...my ex...it hurts. But it's getting better thanks to a healthy heaping of cheese sandwiches!!! After I DON'T TRIP walking down the aisle and walk out arm-in-arm with Dennis A. Bell, I'm gonna get drunk, I'm gonna dance with Phoebe and Danny, and I'm going to hit Sugarball's gong with my ASS! YEEEEEEEHAW!

Sunday: If i'm still alive on Sunday, I have to go to a family function for my rocker nephew followed by the post-wedding brunch at Tom and Carol's. The rest of the day...recovery. I'll need it. Fuck Human Eye and Kill the Hippies, man. There's no way I can swing that...rocker or not. Plus, I'm not sure I can take three days in a row of my ex-husband. My hearts healing but for fuck's sake, it's not made of chrome.

So...there you have it. Three days of insanity.

And besides all that, I have an elephant sitting on my brain.

An elephant eating a cheese sandwich.

If you want it enough to cry for it, you'll find love.

Let's get right to the point. No pussyfooting around.

I can't say the "L" word. You know the one. No, not "lesbian". The OTHER "L" word. The "I *insert L word here* you" word. Even with my husband, I had to psych myself up when I wanted to say it because we just never did...ever. It made me feel like a loser to be honest.

But I WANT to be able to say it! Maybe not ALL the time so it loses it's meaning, like the phrase "cheese sandwich" (if you haven't seen the movie "Love & Sex", see it...it's witty and funny and charming and brilliant and I love Phoebe for making me watch it). In fact, I am going to say " I cheese sandwich you" or just plain old "cheese sandwich" to express my sentiments from now on.

I mean, I can say love. LOVE LOVE LOVE! Just not to a man that I love or, as we learned today, to THE man that I love. I know you're probably flipping out and wondering how the HELL I can be in love so out of the blue or WHY I'm in love with the dude I am. It's not so out of the blue...it's been growing and festering and oozing.

Boy oh boy, did I start pussyfootin' or what?!?! I think I'm still in shock.

I spilled my guts today. Gave my heart to someone which I didn't really think was possible. But never said the "L" word. I danced around it and I am NOT a good dancer. Early on, I said I had something to tell him...managed to drag that out all day. He told me that I could tell him anything. He suspected that maybe I had "found someone". He was expecting the worst. Finally, after many start-n-stop moments, many deep breaths, him patiently waiting but impatiently wondering and saying, "What does it SOUND like?"...I said the following brilliant words...

"It sounds like 'I think...', well, it's SIMILAR to 'I think...I like you A WHOLE LOT'...but it's WAY bigger than that". (Translations: I think I'm falling in love with you).

And then I ran away.

Smooth, huh?

No matter how ridiculous the whole mess was, he didn't avoid me. He called me and laughed with me about it...seemed genuinely stunned but not against it. Wanted to talk more about my semi-cryptic message but respected that I just COULDN'T at the moment because I was FREAKING...like it was the first time I had "cheese sandwich"-ed a guy. In all actuality, I'm not getting my hopes up that he will "cheese sandwich" me or that anything more that what HAS happened WILL happened...but my Ipod does (wink). But I said what I needed to say...or at least a version of it.

AND I FEEL INVINCIBLE!

Please stay. You're too old to run away.

Friday night was out of sight!

Jimbo is home!!! And I am an honorary Hissem! I passed out on him circa 4:00a on the way home from the Wayne Hancock show. It was a fantastic evening. I got to dance with Greg Yanito, Cleveland's best dancer, which made me feel like a princess. He is a smooth character. I also saw my pal Aaron Weiss for the first time sine I declared that he was my current crush. That is NOT a bad thing. Crushes are healthy. Still...he may have been uncomfortable. Not sure. Either that or, as Ashlee suggested, he's retarded. I guess they're playing the Jigsaw's grand opening with us. That should be a hoot and a half. I'd claim I'd stay sober but that's a lie. I need liquid courage to shake my groove thang.

And that Jigsaw business is news in itself! We were asked to play the grand opening of the Jigsaw's concert venue. I'm pretty jazzed. The line-up thus far is Honkeytonk Damnation, Whiskey Daredevils, and The Pussyfoot Girls...and I guarantee it will be a damn fine show. We get better and better as the seconds go by. And besides playing Jimbo's welcome home party, we're also the hostesses of the Rockabilly Holiday. Pretty swanky indeed! We hope to see you at both the Jigsaw and the Beachland!!! Don't you want to see us strut our stuff?

Tonight I went to see Reigning Sound at the Beachland and while they were fantastic, they were not worth $12 and they didn't even play GET IT!!! But I did talk to Greg Oblivian after running back to the Beachland since I didn't close my tab. No matter how many times I remind myself...oh well. My arch-enemy was at the show but that was fine. I'm over it. I'm over that whole period in my life. I've moved on to bigger, better, and more confusing times in my life, no doubt! I don't need to worry about small fries.

I DID get to hear "We Repel Each Other" which reminds me of my relationship with my ex-husband...something I never want to be reminded of. But he literally slipped in my head and out in a span of 3.7 seconds. I am beginnning to think I am on way to being totally over it. My heart belongs to someone else (no matter how sick and twisted that is) and I can't even really remember why I loved him in the first place. I just know that all this Ben and Lisa wedding stuff is going to be rough. Watching my friends exchange goofy words of love and commitment, standing across from the man I loved and wanted a life with...it's all so mess up. But what can a girl do?

Looks like Johnny and I MIGHT be on the mend. I haven't decided yet. It seemed pretty much like old times but I could still see him saying he didn't want to be "best friends" and that puts a sour taste in my mouth.

When did living get so hard?

My love must be a kind of blind love.

I could have gone to see Throw Rag tonight but, hmph, they are NOT worth twelve bones. And I really didn't want to see my ex-husband there. Especially not after a pre-wedding informational jam session. All I thought about was my own wedding and how my fella didn't even seem that interested...he didn't even take a shower that day. Double hmph. I was feeling pretty low. Was pretty snippy. If I would have seen him, it would have made me feel worse and I would have been filled with hate and loathing and disgust. I don't need my pals to see my like that.

What did I do instead???

I went to a bar with Carol and we ranted and raved and ate and drank beer! And Tommy Bones showed up and we drank more beer and did a shot! It was a fantastic evening. If I would have come home, I would have been kicking myself for letting my ex-husband indirectly didctate my social engagements. It's bad enough I'll have to see him at the pre-wedding party next weekend AND the wedding. I mean, I seriously don't need to punch myself in the face on PURPOSE. For real. And Throw Rag wasn't even that good last time I saw them.

Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo...

Tonight ended up being a good night. Good end to a good day all around. First a boy passes me a note, then I find out The Pussyfoot Girls may be playing the grand opening of The Jigsaw's brand new concert venue, then I get officially paired up with DAB for the wedding, and then I get to go out with the coolest couple in town. AND Potsie sent me text messages about thongs!!! Sweet!!! It really was a good day.

Now if I could only find a better, sexier dress to wear to the wedding. I thought I had something good looking but it doesn't match up. So it looks like I'll have to go shopping. OH DRAT!!!

Put your lips to mine with your kiss of fire.

Today, a boy passed me a note. It was very fifth grade. I like to tell people that it happened between history and geometry. We pretended like we didn't even see each other and then there was the switch. It went off without...well...a hitch. Didn't plan on rhyming there. Swooooon!

Can a heart still break once it's stopped beating? The age old question.

Had a hot date last night...with Miss Phoebe Bean! She doesn't want me to be her girlfriend though. Boo. We ate way too many movie snacks (she blames me for her new buttery popcorn and Snow-Caps obsession...I like a 5 kernal to 3 cap ration) and saw "Corpse Bride". It is not a movie divorced girls should see. It's nuts to think that a movie about a boy accidentally marrying a dead girl could reflect your life so perfectly...but it did...and it broke my heart all over again. But then a boy passed me a note. Swoooooooon!

There was this whole sequence where Emily, the Corpse Bride, was coming to terms with her life/death/whatever. And she said, "I was a bride once and my dreams were taken from me. Now I am taking someone else's. I love you...but you're not mine". OUCH! Hit me where it hurts. Made me start revaluate things that are currently going on in my life or had gone on at the beginning of this year. I felt very small and jerky. Almost couldn't fall asleep...HA HA HA! That was so a lie. I can sleep anywhere at any time! But I did feel slightly awful...until a boy passed me a note...and then I didn't care how my dreams were previously crushed or if I was crushing someone else's. All I did was swooooooooooon!

Swoon! Swoon! Swoon!

CAP GUN COWBOYS' LAST STAND TOMORROW NIGHT!

I'll be there in my horse shoe skirt. Will you? I mean, not in my skirt. Will you be there at the VENUE saying good-bye to Greg and HELLO to JIMBO? Rocking to CGC'c cover of "My One Desire". You should be. And we should dance!

I'll give you strength. I'll help you carry on.

My friends, the Ol' Kentucky Sharks, all chipped in and bought me a beautiful accoustic Fender for my housewarming with a card that read, "So you can rock more than you already do". I wanted to cry but opted to hold on to the guitar that I named Joe Strummer and just drink it all in. I now know for certain...for the first time in my life...that these people are going to be in my life forever. Not just because they buy me things (though that IS nice), but because they inspire me, make me laugh, support me and so much more. They are the most incredible group of people I have ever known, those crazy Sharks, and I think that if I hadn't gone through the horrific year I have, I might not appreciate them as much as should and as much as I do. Maybe what's happened to me DID happen for a reason...so I would finally find a place where I belong. So outside of a broken toe and a burned elbow (insane combination and I have no explaination), it was the best party I've ever had.



Thanks for everything, Sharks. I would like to have all of your babies.

As I recall, you've got what I need!

Good morning, Sunshine! It's par-tay day!

House Warming Party To-Do List:
-go to work before the sun even comes up.
-dick around in the warehouse.
-drive to Massillon to deliver a couch.
-eat a quick brunch.
-eat a piece of cake.
-take a MUCH needed nap.
-pray that Phoebe does the shopping because I don't want to.
-finish cleaning my room.
-make a party play list.
-shower and groom.
-put my tiara on.
-say, "I hear Carol!!!".
-DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!
-DANCE!
-FREAK OUT when Crazy Danny shows up!
-kiss and hug Crazy Danny LIKE CRAZY!
-do shots.
-mingle.
-act a fool with Ben Lybarger.

And everything after that will be a BLUR!

It's about time for a party at my house and it wouldn't be the same without you. No, not at all! As I recall...