Reaching out. Touching me. Touching you.

So I left my man. He put a little too much volume and rage in my ear hole this morning and I had enough! I was at the end of my rope, tying it into a noose and slipping it over my head! And now of course now I can't stop crying, we wouldn't even look at each other, and I'm wearing a scarf that is really stupid but I refuse to take it off because I'm prooving a point. I'm not sure what that is but it has to do with me thinking the scar fis cool and not caring what anyone thinks when in all actuality, I'm not too keen on the scarfas a scarf. Maybe as a headband.

Do you see what I'm doing? Trying to distract myself from how rotten I feel. You get upset about the HORRIBLE events that took place Friday and you vent about them...and I guess you vent to the wrong persona nd it gets around now EVERYONE IS PSYCHO! That was a weird way to end that thought but that's how I'm ending it. PSYCHO! I went to my dude's house last night to watch a flick (I was invited over after I was apologized to because he was PSYCHO just like everyone else) and it was stellar and then it turns to fecal remains once I got to work. Why are all of the men in my life like spoiled dairy products? They were once so delicious and desireable and I thought about them constantly...yum yum yum...and then they go bad and make you throw up and poo like mad. And they smell sour. And you throw them away! BAD DAIRY PRODUCTS ARE DESTROYING MY LIFE.

I'm sad. At least Gilmore is on tonight. Bring it on, Lorelai.

Let me die in your arms.

Does it bother anyone else that John Denver wrote "Annie's Song" (a beautiful, romantic, poetic, not too hippie-ish ballad that many people probably either made babies or cried themselves to sleep listening to in the 1970s) about the wife that he beat the living day lights out of? I mean, I just sat here and listened to the Rivers' Cuomo version of it and practically bawled my brains out and for a split second, I wondered if that song ever came on the radio while he was giving her the ol' one-two-Hawaiian-punch.

I'm pretty sure it was my older sister who first put this thougth into my head. Now it's bugging me and I feel the need to listen to it on repeat and see if I can disect a dead man's brain. Let's be honest, lots of things are bugging me. Lots of people are bugging me. And alcohol...that's bugging the sweet bejesus out of me. You mix rowdy people who work together with alcohol and you end up with people crying, people beating on one another, and me, quitting my job and walking out the door with my head held high for a change. This happened Friday night and I'm still on fire about it. ON FIRE! I gave up on my job AND my man that night and woke up feeling pretty damn alright about it. After awhile you stop being sad and get angry. And the angry person rules the world.

Of course all that joblessness and defiance didn't last at all because Saturdays where work is concerned are just a joke. And not of the knock-knock variety. Someone's always hungover or has a busted car or doesn't show or peels the entire top, truck, and back off a truck driving it under a 10'3" bridge (truck is 13' tall mind you). I believe I even used the phrase "I quit yesterday" several times to make people question why I was dealing with work related issues at all but it didn't matter. I still did my best to keep everyone's heads on. No one likes a headless freak.

Man, I really wish I could tell you the whole story but the whole things get worse and worse by the second. It's like that telephone game you play when you're young. It starts out "Bobby thinks Jamie's cute" and ends up "Your mother's a filthy whore who eats babies" and then people are calling you and screaming before your caffein has kicked in. And for once...truly...I DID NOTHING WRONG! I deserve a medal after this weekend. Shoot. I'm still employed but not happily and I'm still in a relationship but I'm questioning it a lot more these days. At least I'm not getting the goop knocked out of me inspiring someone to write a cheese-ball love song...that is really fucking good.

You fill up my senses like a night in the forest
Like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert, like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses, come fill me again

Come let me love you, let me give my life to you
Let me drown in your laughter, let me die in your arms
Let me lay down beside you, let me always be with you
Come let me love you, come love me again

You fill up my senses like a night in the forest
Like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert, like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses, come fill me again

I lie awake and dream that the fogs rolls in.

Ir's October. Let the daily blogging challenge begin!

Gonna get rowdy. Gonna get a little unruly.

Bad blogger! Bad! And for once, I have tons and tons of garbage to talk about! Every night before I hit the sheets (I've been spending some good quality time sleeping at my house recently), I think about spewing some words out on to this page but it just doesn't happen. Television, pillows, and a stuffed ghost win out. And the topics in my head and just all over the map! Very little of them are about boys which should make you happy since I have recently become an emotional SAP ASS! I promise to catch up tonight if I can. That's a bad promise. I'll TRY to catch up and fill your heads full of rubbish. What I PROMISE is that I am going to blog EVERY DAY in October. Even if I just write SLEAZE-BAG in big letters on the page or post a pciture of me pretending to be a carrot vampire (or a carrot walrus depending on your interpretation). So I say it, so it shall be done.

I can't get what I want prescripted.

General Points of Interest or Disinterest, Depending On Who You Are

1. Little Jen is moving out by the beginning of the month. I believe Tom will be going, too. This will leaving me roommate-less and minus two cats and you know what? I'm pretty OK with that. I've been paid no rent and been able to swing the bills for three people so swinging them for one...who is rarely there...should be utterly possible as long as I stop buying such expensive cheese. I'm looking forward to having the run of the house, along with my 3 children. 3 adults, 5 cats, and a rat? That's pure insanity.

2. I know what I want but I deserve better. What do I do?

3. Season premier of Grey's Anatomy tonight. I'm turning my phone off and not leaving my bed. You mark my words. The premier date has been on my calendar in bright orange letters for DAYS! If Meredith and McDreamy don't get-it-together, all Hell breaks loose.

4. Season premier of American's Next Top Model last night. I had it taped. I'm watching it as soon as I get home if I don't slip into a coma first. I already pegged some bitches and ugly broads when I stole glances at the screen which I should NOT have been doing. I'm a cheater.

5. I think I want to go see Jackass 2 tomorrow. Any takers?

God, this whole thing is really dull. I thought I had a lot to say but I really don't and that's embarrassing. I'm in a foul mood because I got very little sleep. I was fairly certain that if anyone rubbed me the wrong way today, I would have walked right out on my job and never looked back. But then I'd be living in the streets. I wonder how much I'd mind that? I'm not good with cold. Or hunger. I dated/lived with a man who drank too much for far too many years. I was always cleaning up his messes and taking care of him. Why do I feel like I'm starting to get back in that pattern? I am WORTH being nice to! I am WORTH loving! I am NOT around to hide all your beer cans from your children since YOU couldn't because you were an hour and a half late for work! I am girlfriend material not a potential maid. Hmph. There is so much more to this story but I need to let it go for now. It's making me slip into old habits I don't like so much. I just have to remember that there are clean pajamas, pain medication, Pepsi, vegetable soup, a stuffed ghost to snuggle, and lots of television waiting for me at home.

It's not the same as wrapping myself around a hairy (as in his chest and back, certainly not his head), good-smelling dude with a beer belly and watching cartoons and goofing off. That's tops...when everyone is in a good mood and hasn't drank ten times their weight in beer (30+ cans built into a Beer-a-mid on your kitchen table). But maybe I need a break from that to sort of send of a flare in his head (yes, we've digressed to talking about HIM). Do you want me!? Do you REALLY!? Are you missing me when I'm not there!? Are you sober when you're missing me!? The more I've been sleeping at home, the more I've come to the conclusion that his bed isn't as comfortable as I thought.

I might be lying. But don't tell my bed that. It's been good to me.

Gotta get serious. Gotta cram.

Life has been overly serious recently. Way too up and down for my taste. I find myself having to prove myself everywhere I go and that's just not my style. I am who/what I am, take it or leave it. I really don't like having to defend myself or make people understand where I'm coming from. Especially to people who have NO IDEA what my life or job are like, people who I don't exactly respect that much anymore. It's hard to bust ass for and be enthusiastic about people who aren't holding in high regard these days. I guess I just have to suck it up for now until I figure out what the smart thing to do with be.

A lot of this has to do with my career path, to be honest. My parents made the very generous offer to help me go back to school...even to grad school if that's what I wanted. I could rpobably go to Cosmetology school...whatever will make me happy. I think I'm a different person now than when I was an undergraduate. I have more of a drive and more ambition and just more of a general desire to learn and do well and be more. At this moment in time, I have nothing to prove to anyone where school is concerned. I would only have to prove something to msyelf. That I could get those kick ass grades, graduate with honors, get through it without losing my marbles. It's a lot to think about. Lots of decisions have to be made and I'll need a lot of support and back-up. Bill promised to do strip flashcards with me which was pretty sweet in a perverted way.

And while on this work and school rollercoaster, I've taken a detour regarding my relationship. My man has been hard to handle recently. Up and down. Up and down. And that gets to me. He is the one that can hurt me worse than anyone else. Finally I stuck up for myself and for one whole hour, I unloaded on him. Told him EVERYTHING I had to say about how I am treated. I am WORTH being nice to. I am WORTH keeping around. I am NOT going to be walked all over. I did this for a whole hour and put his listening skills to the test yesterday when we mixed an evening out with alcohol.

Everything was nice and friendly and kissy and what not and then it hit that peak where I said or did SOMETHING to rub him the wrong way. Instead of begging him to be nice or asking him what was wrong, I got quiet. Still enjoyed my evening, still talked to him but didn't lavish him in attention. That must have bigged him because then a lightbulb went off telling him that he was being a dork. He apologized and our night ended up being a nice night out. I let him vent on the drive home about anything he needs to. I said I needed someone to lean on and wanted to prove that he has that in me. If the night ends watching cartoons and drafting in the bed, I consider it a success.

I've been a bum today. Lots of sleeping and Netflix and that's A-OK for me. I haven't been in the best physical or mental shape recently and I haven't had much support (except for Phoebe...she's been the bomb...DA BOMB). Spending this day snoozing and resting and only doing what I wanted to and not having too much to worry about (things are good with Bill, I'm in a good place regarding work bullshit because I can only do what I can do, I refuse to LIVE my job, I've started to straighten up the joint in preparation to be livin' single) has been a nice change. And I get to have fondue with Phoebe tomorrow! It's nice to have a treat to look forward to.

Encough of this. My bed misses me and wants me to stop raving.

But nothing can change the way I feel today.

EMO ALERT! Put up your trendy umbrellas so you don't ruin that dramatic emo haircut of yours because there is a little, black, bastard of a rain cloud bugging the sweet bejesus out of me. Yes, ladies and germs, I am in a bear of a mood yet again! Weeeeee! I've been using the good old "I've got allergies" or "There's something in my eye" excuse all the live long day but that doesn't explain why I have lips like Angelina Jolie and I'm all red and blotchy. I wish I could just throw up on someone. Preferably a small child or a member of the elderly population. That would perk me up, no doubt. Though I did throw up on a tree in my back yard this week and that pretty much added to my depression.

Yes, I'm riding the "d" train and I'm buying stock in tissues.

I really don't feel like going in to all the bloody, gutty, nasty, slimy, gorey, stanky details. Because overall, I had a Helluva weekend with a pretty gnarly Pussyfoot show at the Wakeman airport and some camping with my fella in Sandusky (the baked potatos were hard as bricks but the corn-on-the-cob was da bomb, as the kids like to say). We even had a pretty k-rad bonfire on Sunday night...80% k-rad and 20% suck-ass. It had such potential to be a bonafide rocker of a weekend, and I'm not saying it was all based on the late-night brawl. There were all kinds of elements adding to my fury. I spent my Monday vacation from work in my bed on Vicodin, watching Project Runway season 2 and loathing all.

I'm feeling all lonely again and it's lonliness that I find to be the most rotten annoyance in my life. And once again, this is NOT just based on the man in my life. I'm all kinds of lonely. And I feel like nothing I do is good enough for ANYONE. There must be something going around at my house because Jen caught this moody, self-pitying bug and now I have it. I don't say the right things. I don't do the right things. I can't make anyone happy. I'm not worth being around or being included. I don't deserve to be nice to. I don't try hard enough. I can't pull anything off. There's so many more "I don't" or "I can't" that I could boo-hoo and wah-wah about but I really don't want to relive this days from now when I'm (hopefully) all smiles and laughs again.

But for now...pass the Kleenex please.

We gonna play until you feel happy so come on.

I am a mother to a brand new baby grill. We named her Shannon Sheppard.

I haven't been bl-l-l-l-l-logging since there's not too much to report. I've pretty much been a working, drinking, sleeping bum. And I'm cool with that. But I live to entertain you and I feel I'm letting you down. I'll step up to the plate and serve it up once my life holds more than drinking beer, watching Project Runway, and goofy bullshit activities with Bill (like buying adorable little grills and naming them Shannon).

Man, I've been quite the little pervert at work today. Shame on me.

If you're bored on Saturday or just looking for something out of the norm to do (cause poking your crippled Grandma with various sharp objects is getting old and cruel), why not come see The Pussyfoot Girls at the Rockin' Rod Rumble at Wakeman Airport? There will be bands...Slack Jawed Yokels, Devilbillys, and more...hot cars and hot chicks! Not just with us shakin' our tail feathers in your grandpa's face. There's gonna be a pin-up girl contest as well!!! Smack my ass and call me mommy, this is going to be a good time. Possibly because I MAY or may NOT be dressed up as a rat. You'll just have to come out and see.

Clocking in from 9 to 5.
At the bar from 5 to 9.
Go home, watch TV 'til you're blinded.
3 good ways to waste your mind.
And you don't mind it.

Get a check on Friday but it's already spent.

Got my bill from the big, bad, Athsma emergency room visit. Not pretty. Pretty effed.

Started off the long weekend right (and right in the middle of the week, mind you) with a Wednesday night of beer swillin', clothes warshin', and Project Runwayin' (hit the road, Angela, like you should have WEEKS ago with your pooooofy skirts and "flurshonds"). I could have used more sleep. I could have done without getting a visit from My Girl Flo in the morning...at least it signifies no visit from the stork!

Followed that up last night with my first trip to Browns Stadium. Sure they lost but a guy threw up on the field and some little kids played at half time and I got to see them fall down and become injured. Pretty sweet is the pain of small athlectic children. It was fun for my first game, regardless of knowing nothing about football. Bill invited my nephew and his girlfriend along and we all traded injury and surgical stories on the ride home. It was mildly graphic and highly hysterical.

Tonight I have a hot and fancy date to go on a rush hour booze cruise type deal around downtown with my fella. But it's looking pretty grim and grey in these Cleveland skies. And it's COLD! Brrrrrr! I'm wondering if the two of us will trade drinking icy cold beers on a boat on the river in the rain and windy weather for wrapping ourselves in blankets and hoodies and vegging, catching up on much needed sleep and "drafting". Beers won't seem as cold in that location! But we have been looking forward to this so maybe we'll be daredevils. We'll see what card Mother Nature deals us later.

Saturday is a veg day. Bill has his kids so I'm on my own. I'll be sleeping, watching my new Project Runway box sets, doing laundry, cleaning my room, maybe havign lunch with Phoebe, and hanging with Carol (FINALLY! I'm going through withdrawl...see the shakes?!?) at night. Maybe a movie. Maybe food. Maybe a bar. Maybe...Saturday will kick some major ass! Actually, I can guarantee that. No maybe.

And then we have Sunday and Monday. Possibly there will be some camping! Realistically, it will end up being me and Bill in his yard having a fire, cooking out, watching the race, drinking beers, and chilling out. It's all a matter of location...home or abroad. I'll be happy with either. I'll be slap happy not to be at work!!! Weeeeeeee! So he's planned a pretty kickin' few days for us. Not sure if he's still kissing ass or just enjoying my rockin' company. It's good stuff though. Good stuff.

Enjoy your Labor Day, y'all!

You really think you're in control?

IT'S FRIDAY I'M IN LOVE
1. Phoebe quit her job at Shamrock. Gave a few weeks notice. No one seemed to mind too much besides me. Lots of stress is now resting on my shoulders. It went from a 4 man operation to one...me. I am the operation. I am my deparment. Taking the rest of my vacation days this week or in two weeks just to enjoy myself before I become "the boss". Good luck with your new gig, Phoebe.

2. Car got detailed. I don't think people you're paying $125 to do a specific job should blatantly make fun or you, your car, and your lifestyle choices to your face. Despite the great job they did on making all the sludge in my car disappear, I wouldn't recommend them to anyone. They were strangers, not friends, so how dare they tell me what to do with my possessions or how to live my life? Fuck 'em.

3. Curled up in my bed after work. Watched "She's the Man" which arrived from Netflix and crashed, hardcore. I decided today that I think I'm depressed or at least getting into that rut of "having the blues". Not feeling like myself and certainly not liking it. Woke up to a late night phone call which had me driving Betty Blue to Garfield for the last time. I needed to draft and be drafter but I'm not even sure it helped that much. It helped to find out I'm getting a FAT raise, regardless of not getting a replacement for Phoebe. When I say FAT, I mean PH-PH-PHAT! I love money. I'm American.

SATURDAY IS ALRIGHT FOR FIGHTING
1. Remember when I said the future was a Honda CRV? I lied. It's a black Toyota Rav4 and it's hot. Since it's big and black, I thought about naming it Earl after my big, black friend. But is that offensive? The Early Mobile has a nice ring to it. Early is the character I like on Squidbillies, too, so it COULD have a double meaning...but won't. Anyway, I love my car and would love to take y'all in a ride for it. But no smoking! And no mucky feet! And no puking into plastic bags! And for CRYING OUT LOUD, no spilling!!!

2. Got all gussied up and took my new wheels on out to Strongsville to be little Benny's date to his mom's wedding. I was there over an hour before he was (I guess I was poorly informed of the time) so I left for a while. Ended up with heart burn, a bad attitude and an emergency (see SATURDAY #3) so I never made it back to the reception. I'm sure he's mad but the whole point of my going was to be the designated driver but he drove his OWN TRUCK. How was that going to work? I didn't need to be there other than to be a show piece. A tall drink of water, if you will. So I didn't go back.

3. When a friend doesn't show up for a particular event, doesn't call anybody, doesn't come to pick someone up when she's supposed to, her garage is wide open, her car doors are unlocked, her dead bolt which is NEVER locked IS, her dog is inside, and her son is supposed to be picked up at 11:00p, you assume she's inside and you assume bad things. She must have received about 50 phone calls from concerned parties not to mention me and Bill banging on her door, honking horns, and trying to bust windows with the help of neighbors. When a person is 5 hours late to pick you up for a party and doesn't answer the cell phone, you panic. You call a locksmith. You worry that she's hurt inside. And in the end, when she IS inside but won't let any of the concerned parties in to see her, well, it doesn't all add up.

So my Saturday ended up with no wedding reception, no co-worker party, no beer during the race and no bonfire. Sure, I did get a new car AND won the NASCAR pool (GO KENSETH!!!) but overall, Saturday was as much of a wash as Friday.

SUNDAY BLOODY SUNDAY
1. Wanted to show my mom the new ride and was invited to tea with my sisters and nieces. Guess they had this whole day planned for quite awhile and I probably wouldn't have been invited if I had called when I did. Maybe it's because I don't have kids and it was like an end of summer/back to school thing. But I'll probably never have kids so will I always be left out of things? It sort of just rubs in my face the fact that I don't have a family. Sure, I have "a family", but when my parents are gone and my sisters have their husbands and kids and "families", I'll most likely just be me. When I was married even, Ezra said we wouldn't be a family until we had kids. I didn't even have a shot to have a family of my own.

2. I felt kind of stupid for being there today. I was pretty quiet. I hope I didn't come across as rude. I just really felt awkward. Other things happened besides the last minute invite thing to dampen my mood but I'll probably just keep those to myself. Let's just say I felt slightly ashamed and embarrassed and the worst part is, I wasn't even surprized about it. I'm actually starting to believe that I really can't do anything right. I got a raise and a slight (if somewhat by default) promotion this weekend and I feel more like a failure than ever.

3. Bill is out and about with his Dad doing God knows what. I'm here at home feeling lousy. He said he'll call when he's done. I don't know if I'm sleeping here or there or what's going. Such is life living out of an overnight bag. Part of me seriously wants to go to bed right now and call it a day because I know my quiet disposition and thoughfulness and "blues" will just be aggravating because I can't explain it all without sounding pathetic or like a broken record. I don't want anything I'm feeling bad about to be related to Bill in any way. But if I stay here, I don't stay with him and then I could end up feeling just as horrible...am I not going because I REALLY feel THIS bad or am I not going just to make myself feel worse? I've never actually chosen to NOT stay there. I think no matter where I am sleeping today, I'll probably cry.

MONDAY, MONDAY
1. I hope...

2. ...that I...

3. ...can survive.

Any other car, you'd just be wastin' your time.

I've had 3 stickers in my work cubicle that I bought at Heavy Rebel 2005 that have been just waiting to get on the back window of a new car. Well, 2 out of 3 (I'm sort of over my "True Necromance" sticker) are going to finally have a home!

I'm going to be roll roll rollin' in style as of this Saturday! It's sad that little Betty Blue Corolla is going to the car graveyard because we've had a good run. Lots of memories were made in the car...none of the X-rated variety, perverts. I wish I could count how many times Johnny passed out in it after nights out in Kent. Or how many times I tossed my cookies into plastic bags. Or how many songs I've sang at the top of my tone-deaf lungs. But sadly, I can't. That car took me through my relationship with a musician and therefore all over the United States. It took me through my happy marriage and bitter divorce. It's seem many friends come and go. It's been beat up and it's been loved. It was a good car but it's slowly dying. It's time to let go of the past and move on to the future.

And the future is a Honda CRV.

I asked Phoebe's help in naming the new ride with the strict instructions that it could not be named after a dead rabbit in a box that was transported over the Rockies. Or a cremated rabbit in a tin can. Naming a car is important. I remember when my old pal MVO and I named our cars Ruby 626 and Teal Tercel. She had a CRV. A black one and it was such a damn cool car. Sure, I don't have to pull horse trailer or cart hay around but I'm sure I can fill it up full of junk. I'm good at that. My current mode of transportation smells like there's a dead body hiding in it somewhere. And there very well could be. Good thing it's getting detailed tomorrow. Regardless, it's going to take me the rest of my life to pay this sucker off but in a way, that's fulfilling. It's going to be mine. And I'm going to love it.

Suggestions for car names are welcome.

Johnny already asked to borrow it for his next hot date. I said no because he called the "The CLR". He thinks the 1996 Nissan Altima will be more of a chick magnet any way. We may have to put some money on this. I like to gamble.

Outside of my orgasmic automobile excitement, I have a secret date next Friday. I'm not good with surprizes as it drives me nuts not knowing what's in store for me! But it IS cute that my fella has something planned for us. I have to leave work a little early and wear something specific, though I don't know what that is yet. Whatever it is that we're doing, it's taking place downtown and it is NOT a football game. Hmmmm. I'm pretty open to whatever...I like having future plans with Bill. Future plans are reassuring.

And for any one who cares, we had a lengthy chat on Monday where everything regarding his bad behavior was explained to me, I was apologized to (not just in an "I'm sorry" fashion but WHY he is sorry), and reassured that we are starting fresh. He even reintroduced himself to me. We've spent a few nights apart and I feel better. He knows this is his last shot to treat me how I deserve to be and that he's getting a spiked heel up the rear and out the door if he fails. So...it's still on, this thing we're doing. We're in the running for 6 months.

Phoebe just said the words/terms 'engorged', 'soft tissue', "wriggling your fingers', 'stimulation', 'vibrator', and 'the clitoris reemerges from under the hood'. What a perv. We are TOTALLY at work right now. Sweet.

You knew you had yourself a ball.

Today is my first day of bringing my lunch to work. I'm doing it to save money and in all actuality, the sandwich I made and chips I packed taste better than anything I could have picked up from a drive-through. Corners need to be cut and I'm doing my best to cut them. Got a few bills paid off (in full!) and hopefully by tomorrow night, I'll be pretty much caught up and we won't have to worry about sitting around in the dark or taking cold showers. Have I mentioned how much I HATE being an adult?

So I didn't take an extra vacation day today as you may have noticed. I knew I would just be way too behind if I did. I returned to a mountain of paperwork and a bazillion copies to make and things to do. I don't blame Phoebe. I'm sure she was up to her eyesockets in work and made it as easy for me as possible to transition back into the swing of things. I won't lie, I miss my bed and my sleeping aides and my television. But I didn't spend all of my down time snoozing. I met up with Bill Friday night (with hesitations) and we went to watch the football game at his sisters house. I was still tired, a little shaky, and a bit wary. I was sizing him up the whole evening. Evaluating his behavior. He even looked at me once and said, "I really have to kiss ass, don't I?". I'm not holding things over his head or guilt tripping him. I'm just trying to figure out what's best for ME for a change because I like me and think I deserve good things. Like season 6 of Gilmore Girls and a boy who doesn't fight with me in public. Is that too much to ask??

Saturday was semi-productive! Sure, I slept until 2:00p (everyone should do that from time to time) but then I stocked my fridge and cupboards, made homemade cheese potato soup, straightened up my digs, watched movies and drank Bloody Marys with the roomies. I couldn't sleep so well and was combing the internet until about 5:00a but it was suggested that I was squirrely because I wasn't sleeping next to my fella. He suggested it. He is soooo buttering me up but I'm still watching him like a hawk. So that was Saturday. Not an award winner but still pretty fulfilling.

And yesterday...well, Sundays are always dull since Becky moved. I watched multiple episodes of My Super Sweet 16 with Tom...he was a little over anxious to be watching it. I'm thinking he wants to be a wealthy 16 year old girl. I folded clothes, ate ice cream, and vegged. Finally took a shower. Ended up at Bill's for some shut eye. He knows I'm still mad but I think he appreciates that I haven't completely written him off. I think he MIGHT finally get the fact that you can't take advantage of the people who care about you. You should instead count yourslef lucky and try to give back what you get. I think he MIGHT be starting to see how lucky he is. I love that guy, it's true. But I can't do all the work. I shouldn't have to. We're supposed to "have a chat" later. I'm going to say everything I should have been saying all along. And hopefully he'll be listening.

Today, my calendar sayd "Stay awat from any man who shaves his legs on a regualr basis". Keep that in mind, ladies!

Scars only show when someone talks to you.

If these thoughts are random, forgive me. I've pretty much been sleeping for 30hours straight, only getting up to refill my cranberry juice glass and answer the multitudes of text messages I've recieved. I was off work yesterday and off again today and believe me, these days couldn't come soon enough. Let me explain WHY I needed this mini-vacation sleep-a-thon so badly.

First off, I'm currently up to my eyeballs in debt. Jen hasn't had a job steady enough to start paying me rent and Tommy hasn't totally moved in yet so I can't expect him to shell out cash when he doesn't QUITE live here. So the hole Phoebe left financially hasn't been filled yet and I didn't squirrle away any nuts for winter. I'll be honest. I'm behind in the bills which makes me feel like a failure. And asking my best friend for a loan makes me feel like a toad. She said yes because all people need a little help sometimes but my tail is placed prominantly between my legs at the current time.

Secondly, there's the big fight with my fella that took place in front of LOTS of our employees Wednesday night. He thinks he heard someone say somethign that wasn't true about me and a friend of his and would NOT believe my side of the story. I was BEGGING him to listen and he had no interest. He was cold and cruel and I was heartbroken. His guys took me over to his house because they were on MY SIDE. They wanted things straightened out. He let me in the house but didn't really let me talk. For the record, what he accussed me off, I didn't do. Simple as that. I did, however, throw his cell phone out the door which made him explode like a volcano (it was HIS idea for me to do it). But I found the pieces and put it back together and it works. But then...

...I stopped working. I had a horrible Athsma attack that was brought on by panic. After coming to the conclusion that I wasn't going to breathe on my own, I emerged from the bathroom to find that he had locked up the house and gone to bed. Phoebe was my savior. She came and rescued me, took me to the hospital where I got an IV and an aerosol treatment (they wanted to give me 2...NO WAY!) and then I busted free. I found my car keys in Bill's door waiting for me. I came home, got in to bed, and have been here ever since. But that is not where things between me and my marshmallow would end.

Third, he called at 6:22a yesterday, mere hours after I had been released from the emergency room. It must have hit him that he crossed the line this time. Embarrassed me...and himself...in front of co-workers. Yelled at me. Said horrible things to me. Treated me like I was a worthless nobody. I felt like I was reliving my college relationship. Groveling and begging and showing no signs of dignity or pride. Rumors has it his guys got on him at work for how he treated me. He should have been there with me, eventhough I didn't want him near me because I was in pain emotionaly and physically and held him responsible. But he was at home, sleeping like his life was just perfect.

He said that he called to see if I was alright. I said I wasn't and he said he wasn't either. For once, I just let him feel bad. I didn't worry about hanging up the phone without things resolved because my heart hurts. And it seems to be hurting a lot lately. The only thing he said that made me flinch a little was that he doesn't want to lose me. He said that he was an idiot and recognized how badly I was treated and for absolutly no reason. And I'm glad he knows that...but how many times can I have to patch things up? All I wanted was to go out with him and have fun. And when that went south, all I wanted was 2 minutes to explain how I feel about him an dthe lengths that I will (and do) go. He couldn't give me that either.

Today is 5 months of...whatever this is that we're doing. Anyone close to me knows that it's actually been going on much longer but 5 months is the marker from when we slapped the lable of "dating" on it. So it's 5 months today and I have no idea where we stand. He told me to take time to think, which I've been doing in between sleeping and watching episodes of American Dreams. I know what I want...I want him. I'd give up having kids, getting married again...for him. I know that. THAt is what I want. But is that the best thing to do? Probably not. But he is who I gave my heart to and I just wish he'd treat it a little better.

Sorry for rambling. I'm just in a sad and lonley place and need to vent.

This medicine is killin' me!

Go ahead. Tear me a new one...that's what the kids are saying these days. I've been missing in action, and believe me, there's been action! Think I'm being saucy? Nah, I've just been busy. I hate going this long without filling your brains full of rubbish but it happens. So here's a healthy dose of my brand of genius that I will entitle "10 Things You Didn't Even Realize You Couldn't Live Without Knowing About My Life: Autobiographical". Enjoy suckers!

1. My back hurts. Big time. I've been enjoying a Vicodin and Pepsi cocktail 2 or 3 times a week recently. This is not good. I hate having to shut my brain off to numb the pain. But sadly, that's what I've been doing. But I was assured that there's a Baby Oil back rub in my future. I can dig that. I can't dig this pain though. Huey Lewis needs to write a song for me called "I Want a New Back"...cause it's true.

2. The 48 on Bill's garage door is done. I like it. I hate Jimmie Johnson though.

3. A majority of the week was spent planning and preparing for the Slumber Party Massacre in honor of Jen's birthday. Horror of 59 and Chesty Deathrattle performed. A hole had to be beaten into my attic door to free the thirsty kittens. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I want to cry when I see it now. Boo. But the party was a smashing success, regardless of whether or not I announce that there will be no more parties. I'm always bluffing. I like to party. I especially like drama free parties where everyone has a great time (including Bill) and I get to try and fall in lust with BLOODY MARYS!! And I LOVE parties where I don't have to clean up! Weeeeeeeeee.

4. Drinking Tequilla from the bottle is never a good idea though. It makes for a rough Sunday. One of those ones where I only left Bill's bed for a collective total of maybe 12 minutes tops. He cooked me chicken on the grill, let me eat his peas, and kept my Pepsi glass topped off. We slept the whole day away and once the room stopped spinning, I didn't mind being a lazy bum. Oh, there was nudity, too. *blush*

5. Yesterday was the PITS at work. PITS! Phoebe couldn't come in so I was up to my eyeballs in shit and you do not want shit that close to your eyeballs. It's not healthy. And according to my mother, you don't want to cry at work.

6. So go out and have a cocktail insetad! Or in my case, you have a Bloody Mary, 2 tall drafts, and 2 High Lifes with your co-workers. You think about ordering food but you don't. You talk and goof off and have fun and let the weight of the day slip off your shoulders and into your liver. And even when your fella is being crabby (and it was understandable) and didn't want you to sleep over (and you didn't want to because you didn't want to catch his grumpiness), you roll with it. It was nice that he called later to apologize for rubbing his nasty attitude in my face but when his snappiness made a reappearance, I let him off the phone and DIDN'T call back (usually I call back...I hate to leave things hanging at night...I need to go to bed getting along). Instead, I let him sleep with his bad mood at his house and I watched cartoons in my bed..my BED, not the couch...in a Vicodin enduced haze! Oh la la!

7. And don't worry, Bill was in a better, marshmallowy mood and we spent or lunch break together where he told me he wanted to take me somewhere on Friday if I wasn't leaving for the race (see #8). He's taking me to a football game! May not sound exciting to YOU but I've never been to a game so I think it's really cute that he's taking me. I hope I can wear a hoodie. And drink beer. Do yoou hear this, Becky?!?! I'm going to a football game! TOUCH DOWN!

8. I need a break from my life so I've (semi)decided to use vacation days Friday and Monday from work and go to Michigan International Speedway to watch the race, camping in the infield again. I was so dead set on it yesterday and now I'm iffy. I'm thinking that hanging around my house, lounging, watching movies, cooking food, running errands, straightening up, napping, etc., might be more beneifical to my mental state than driving to Michigan and spending money I don't have. There's also the Hot Rod Hula Hop in Columbus. So many options. All I know is that Friday and Monday, I'm on mini-vay-cay and I can't wait. Maybe I'll give myself a mani/pedi and take a bubble bath. And maybe I won't get out of my pajamas at ALL. Even to get the DVR fixed! God bless vacation days!

9. I need a nap. I see episodes of "American Dreams", a tall glass of Pepsi, and the couch in my future. Doesn't that just sound heavenly?

10. When Jamie and I get hitched, I'm going to say we're McMarried...or McMurried.

VIVA!!!

Pay attention to me. I don't talk for my health.

My crush on Jamie McMurray is out of control. I'm all sweaty over it.

I think I'm started to become jaded and somewhat of a serial crab. Work is killing me. Money is killing me. A certain fella is killing me. Pussyfootin' is killing me. Party planning is killing me. Not having clean knickers is killing me. Living out of an overnight bag is killing me (but not sleeping with my marshmallow kills me in a worse fashion). I'm snapping heads off left and right and I just have a really blah attitude about everything and I hate feeling like that. All I want is a weekend in a nice hotel with a really plush bed a la our Heavy Rebel Hotel. I don't want to have to drive anywhere or plan anything or clean anything or sweat or stress. I want to watch pay-per-view movies, order room service, have cocktails, take a whirlpool bath, MAYBE swim in a pool or hang in a hot tub, and sleep with the air conditioning on and the shades pulled tight. That scenario isn't anywhere on my future schedule.

I thought an escape to Columbus would recharge my batteries but a work disaster sort of screwed that all up for me. Yes, I had a fantastic time with Becky, Tim and Porkchop (formerly known as Johnny Switchblade). After hours of verbal catching up, we had a rad dinner where I was introduced to Bellinis! Oh sweet Bellinis! Pitcher after pitcher going straight to my head. Heavenly. After a quick cat nap, we resumed an evening of drinking, game playing, chatting, and goofing off. But this entire trip took place after Bill and I stayed up from midnight to 3:00a trying to resolve scheduling issues at work. It was a BAD scene! Both of our heads were ready to roll right off and that is NOT what I wanted after seeing (and loving) Talladega Nights at the drive-in. It made us both stressed and crabby and we slept on separate sides of the bed. Boo. I left my home away from home in a sad state. And work issues just piled up like dead bodies! I took calls in the shower. I took calls on the can. I took calls in the car. I took calls at dinner. I took calls while hanigng out. I even took a call right before bed. I was cursing work. I wasn't even getting paid and I wasn't able to fully enjoy myself. Rot. Rot. Kill. Blather. Blech.

On the drive home, I DID stop at the most AMAZING gas station on the way home. God only knows how I've been existing without it. Exit #186 off of I-71 N. Please go. It will blow your mind. I thought I was in heaven. I could have dropped a few hundred bucks there. I could have spent my whole afternoon there if it was free to spend. Please go there. Have your mind blown. Thank me later.

My Sunday was spent with the good ol' family. We played miniature golf in the burning hot sun and then had a delicious Italian dinner. I had a nice time with my sisters and my parents and I seemed to work out a TOTALLY reasonable deal regarding a new car (which I NEED as I am actually fearing for my life in this death trap...I loved you Betty Blue. Together, we saw 21 of the 50 states..OK, so you didn't go to Nevada. Stop being selfish). But I was still stressed from all the weekend work bullshit. It was the worst work experience of my life. It wrecked my weekend. But luckily, it was all capped off in Bill's bed, trying to sleep off the weekend. Like I've said, drafting solves most problems.

Now it's a new week. I finished (for the most part) the 48 and a drunken Bill (and we're not even going to go there regarding him being drunk and me being alone, painting in the heat all day when I should have been drinking tall boys) was appreciative. He said it was beautiful. He may feel different today. I woke up with a bad attitude but the hoodie Phoebe got me that reads "Robots Make Better Boyfriends" brings me joy. It fits like a glove. I'm going to see mi familia for a bigger family gathering after work and then doing some pre-party shopping with Jen. Those things don't suck (though cleaning the house for the party does). Plus, I lost a few pounds and who doesn't love that? PLUS plus, Ben and Lisa's weird puppetry has inspired me to do a solo PFG dance to "Tastes Like Poison". I love the Drags. It's going to be sweet-ass sassafras.

Maybe I wouldn't be so cranky if I could just poop at work. Le sigh.

Who do you thank when you have such luck?

I think Sharky is catching "the sickness". After busting my ass working on the 48 (almost done...YEEHAW) last night, I was exhausted beyond belief. I even fell asleep during Futurama which highlights the extent to which my body was WRECKED. I didn't feel right when I woke up this morning...it was hard to meet Bill half way for a good-bye kiss) and it was extremely difficult to lift these old bones out of bed. Then the sore and swollen throat kicked in. As the day dragged on, and I mean DRAGGED despite what a busy bee I am, my gums began to hurt (toothaches always go hand in hand with my colds/flus), my muscles started to ache, and my head began to pound.

I really do NOT want to be sick, especially with the weekend upon up. I will karate chop someone in the throat (Bill just made an awesome "ninja karate chopping someone in the throat" sound over the phone) if I'm laid up on the couch, coughing and sneezing and crying. Tomorrow night, there's a triple-double-date at the drive-in. Sharon & Dave (Couple #1: Team Gearhead/4-on-the-Floor), Tom & Carol (Couple #2: Team Leather-Lace-Tequilla-Whiskey), Bill & I (Couple #3: Team Hanky Panky Hangovers) are goign to see TALLADEGA NIGHTS! We're been counting down the days and once I found out Jamie McMurray will be playing himself (and I will be wearing my Jamie McMurray SHIRT), I've had to change my panties far more often than usual! I like drive-in dates with my dude. I want beers and cheese fries and lawn chairs and hoodies. I do NOT want to be at home with the BLACK DEATH!

And Saturday afternoon, Switchblade and I are rolling on down to the state capital to eat, drink, and be shitty with our favorite drinking buddies, The Murphys! I miss Becky so much! I talked to her on the phone last night and was just so giddy when we hung up. I haven't seen her in...6 months (!!!)...which is the longest span of time we've experienced between visits. Hopefully we can have a nice dinner, go to a cool bar, talk our faces off, do shots, tell embarrassing stories from our drunken pasts. Ah, the Punk-Drunk Summer of...2001 or 2002? Was it REALLY that long ago? God, I could just puke in my lap...which is pretty much what I did that whole summer. Whatever we do, I'll have a great time. It will be exactly the mini get away I need to clear out my foggy head. Playing "asshole" and listening to Journey usually does that to a girl.

Bill called me "honey" today at work and I liked it. I believe the sentence was, "I don't feel good, Honey". It was adorable. It was also adorable when he woke me up last night to eat popcorn together. He does adorable things, no matter how hard he tries to hide them. I am now the proud owner of a Tony Stewart lunchbox thanks to him (he was actually listening when I said I collected lunchboxes). He's always feeding me and doing cute little things that are out of character for him. He takes good care of me 90% of the time. Everything's better for me if he's there. And THAT is why I am planning something extra super bad ass for his birthday! Sure, it's not until October but it's going to take planning and money and help for the big surprise to go off without a hitch. I'm excited. He thrills me. I want to thrill him.

There's a cause for all my sorrow.

I couldn't have been happier than when our Pussyfoot set was over on Saturday. I was hot, I was tired, I was crabby, and I just wasn't feeling it. It was a sweet relief to walk out of the Beachland. I wanted out of my outfit and into the bed, STAT! I didn't sleep so well and ended up leaving Bill's with a crabby attitude in the morning but he helped contribute to that. I think we were both miserable that morning for one reason or another and God forbid we talk to each other about it. Blech.

My bad mood got an adjustment when we went out to a Hibachi restaurant for Jen's birthday (which was yesterday...Happy Birthday, my little thug). I ate and ate and ate and then we headed on over to Valley View to see "Click". Do not see this movie unless you plan on crying a little or you're very close to getting your period. Nothing good can come of it and it made the whole lot of us misty eyed. Boo. The whole flick reminded me a lot of Bill which reminded me of our crabby morning. Blech.

The laziness continued as we headed back to the Ol' Kentucky Shark Corral and watched multiple episodes of Cribs, which always makes me hate my life. But putting on pajama pants eased the pain. So did recieving my FIRST text message from Bill! It was one of those moments where I heard my phone beep but ignored it because who could it possible be? No one important. And it was! And I didn't realize it for 45 minutes! ARGH! Jen made us all dinner and we watched episodes of Undeclared and were basically bums.

People headed home and up to bed and I had a short but sweet phone call on my front porch from my drunk and confused fella. I wish I could help him figure things out but all I can do is love him and listen to him babble. Our bad morning had eventually turned into a sweet (sweet like cute not sweet like "HELL YEAH, DUDE") evening. As I watched cartoons through hazy, painkiller inflicted eyes, I was thrilled to read the words "Good night. I miss you" on my phone screen. Sleeping apart is rotten but message like that rule.

Now I'm at work and things are back to being crabby. I have a sore throat and an earache and an all-around bad disposition. I'm not even sure why I'm typing at all. Who wants to relive moody days? I guess we have to take the nasty with the rad so we apprecaite our good days more. I need a good day. I need more days that include the man I lvoe buying me Tony Stewart lunch boxes. Le sigh.

She's walking 'round wearing all of my clothes.

I'm almost positive I just called a customer and said, "This is Lacey wearing JC Penney's delivery service". I didn't even try to recover from that oops. I just rolled with it. I'll never see those people. They should just be happy that they got their time frame and their furniture is coming. That's what I say.

Bill told me that if I call him 'Jerome' in the heat of passion, I'll never see him again. I'm going to test this theory tonight after our hot date because that's just the most backwards reason I've ever heard to stop speaking to someone. But he's a little nutty in the skull. I think it's due to that crazy, moveable bump he has on the back of his head. If I touch it, he pretends to pass out. It entertains me for minutes on end.

As I've previously stated, I have a hot date tonight. Alright, maybe it's not hot but it's certainly cute. A cute date, if you will. We've rescheduled our dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe for tonight. He's paying so I'm eating! Sure, we have a half off coupon but that's not the point. We're going out somewhere different and I'm having a frosty and delicious cocktail to kick off my weekend. We're going to hit the Gap because we're devoted to Gap denim (let's hear it for the slim/skinny fit and their denim skirts) and then we're going to park somewhere down by the water and take it from there. And then of course, naked time (see above paragraph)!! No one is getting "icky" because we both have to work tomorrow and the day only gets longer form there.

The rumors are true...every year my family celebrates the hot dog and our annual Weiner Night takes place tomorrow. My dad boils my hot dogs because I'm a precious pooch. I wish my day stopped there because I always drag after Saturday shifts and I have no time to drag because I have no clean knickers! Laundry is a MUST! And then, of course because it's Saturday, I have a Pussyfoot show at the Beachland. It's a Capgun Cowboy's reunion show so I know I'll hear "My One Desire" and Bob's Country Bunker is playing and they're always alot of fun. So WHY am I NOT excited?! Why am I looking at this show like a burden?! Why do I have my grumpy-puss on?!

I think I'm just burnt out. We had 3 shows this month and it was a lot of work just to get people together to practice. Then there's set lists and music preparation and costumes and a photo shoot. I'm tired of the grunt work. Do I have my shoes? My clothes? My tights? How should I do my hair? How does this song go again? Shoot I forget this! I need another drink! I'm going to be late! And so on and so forth. I'm tired of a majority of our songs, I'm not sure I have enough creativity left to contribute anything to new songs, I want new merchandise, I want to get into new venues or at LEAST somewhere other than the SAME one we ALWAYS go to. GRRRRR!!!

People think this is just goofball fun (and it's some of the MOST fun I've had in my life) but it's a lot of work. A lot of planning, a lot of compromising, a lot of collaboration. Some things need to happen to spice up the set and I don't think that can happen until there's a teeny weenie break for my brain...and some of the other girls are in my sinking boat, I think. I don't want to officially become Sucky Sourpuss, you know? I'm just going to put my best paw forward and be happy when we're done with our set and I can kick back. I wish Becky would be tehre to ease my brain. I'd dance my pants off for her but alas, we're two ships passing in the night...or so Barry Manilow says.

I'll be seriously kicking back on Sunday at HIBACHI!!! We're going to celebrate my little Jenny Penny's birthday and nothing calms my nerves like friends, fun, and ginger.

Engines pumping and thumping in time.

I am not going to let the fact that I have a sore throat and an earache bring me down. I'm not going to be disappointed that all my yummy chicken from Champps is gone. I'm not even going to get irritated over the fact that my fella barely said two peeps to me before we hit the sack last night (he's also rocking an earache). My charlie horse isn't even beating me. Do you want to know why I've decided to put on a happy face? You bet you do!

Jamie McMurray is paying himself in Talladega Nights!!! Weeeeeeeeeeee!

I hollered, "Lordy Lordy, have a mercy on me".

I hate stress and I am ultimately stressed out. As I texted Johnny last night, "My life is really not turning out the way I planned". I'm stressed about my work life. I'm stressed about my home life. And of course, I'm stresed about money, or the gigantic lack of it that is currently hanging over my head. Right now, my stomach is pretty much alternating between growling and being in knots. I hate having a knotty stomach, especially since I have knots in my back from sleeping on the couch (I left the bed in a fit of rage after being treated like a sucker for the one millionth time this week...I'm beginning to believe that I AM a sucker). My moods are all over the damn place like ants on cookie crumbs these days.

Saturday was the dragway show and we camped in what resembled swamp lands. I had a nice ring around my ankles that separated cleanliness from muck. My parents enjoyed the Pussyfoot Girls though I was informed that I drink too much, and I probably do. I'm getting sick of a lot of our material and I'll be happy to have a break after our show with the Cap Gun Cowboys and Bob's Country Bunker this weekend. Regardless, Saturday was good...until my fella got toasted and basically made himself out to be a raving assface in front of my friends AND strangers. He doesn't remember how badly he behaved and everyone accepted our apologies (thank GOD) but I still feel...a little humiliated. Everyone gets drunk and does retarded things. We've all been there. It happens. I just really didn't need it to happen during a weekend I was looking forward to and wanted to enjoy.

I decided to let it roll off my back and we spent the entire Sunday in bed. We ate ribs, watched the race, napped. I was a complete and total bum and that was fine by me. After sleeping on the cold, hard ground with a chip on my shoulder, it felt amazing to be in the cushy bed, drafting my platypus (he's morphed from being my marshmallow to being my platypus...not sure how that happened). We have a hot dinner date at the Hard Rock tomorrow night. AND we made plans to go do something together, just the two of us, for a weekend before the summer is over which made me feel all warm and gooshy inside. But the gooshiness didn't last. And WHY didn't it last? BECAUSE OF ALCOHOL! Hence why I ended up on the couch and am currently having an awkward day at work. Yes, I forgave. Yes, I'm sure I'll forget. But right now...I'm salty. I have sand in my vagina. And I'm sad.

Dinner and a movie with Johnny will probably help occupy my mind a bit.

All right, I promise, no more after this.

I hope I never get "the gout". No one is taking booze-n-salt away from me!

Ready for a really boring rant? Work is slow. Slow, slow, slow, slow. I feel like worms are eating my brains. Actually, that particular image is sort of making me feel squirmy in the tummy. I don't like worms, even for fishing. They are one of the few things that genuinely freak me out from head to toe. My ex-husband once offered to eat a worm while we were gardening together. Yes, we gardened together and grew 8,000 tomatos. Regardless, I hate worms so let's just say I feel more like a fuzzy blanket of mold is growing on my brain. I need a nap or something to do to occupy some of my time here. I am not very good at trying to look busy and everyone knows I'm NOT busy because work is sloooooow. Boo.

Poison was a rockin' good time last night. I got all kinds of hugged and kissed and held during "Every Rose Has It's Thorn" as well as during "I Won't Forget You". They played nothing but hits so I was nothing but jazzed. I even made a phone call to Texas during "Talk Dirty To Me". I can still see Lisa rolling around on her living room floor suggesting a leap-frog maneuver if we chose that jam to be a Pussyfoot song. It was really rad of Jen to share her tickets with me and William. It gave us something to do besides beer bongs and keg stands. Really...do we look like a frat boy and sorority girl to you? We're a hillbilly and common trash for cryin' out loud!

So the night was a success and hopefully that will carry over into the big weekend we have planned. I suspect tomorrow night will include beer. Maybe shopping. Maybe painting. Who knows? I could end up on my couch watching season one of American Dreams in my pajamas. And I wouldn't totally flip my lid if that's what I wound up doing. It's pay day so I can stock my fridge and I could use some rest before my big Saturday. Pussyfoot Girls are playing the Rock-n-Race at historic Dragway 42 in West Salem, as I've previously rambled about. I have to be up and groomed pretty early (after I hit a doctor's appointment...blech), pick up Bill, get to Carol's, load up, and hit the road in time to check out the vendors, swap meet, racing, and enjoy a few bevvies before strutin' my stuff. It's BYOB and we're camping out after so something tells me it's going to be a full night of a little bit of this and a little bit of that. I'm tired just thinking about it.

And of course, I have to finish the 48 that haunts my dreams on Sunday.

Sheeeeesh. Am I some kind of machine?

And this last mile I travel with you .

Thanks to my foxy little sister's hot connections, I will so be seeing POISON tomorrow night! I haven't been to Blossom in forever but I'll make the trek with my free ticket and VIP bar area bracelet to relive my youth. I think I covered all the Poison Bad Boy bases. I started at CC (that frosty white hair, those pink lips), migrated to Rikki (I'm not sure why...he sort of looked like Matt Hockey, my school-girl crush), had a short layover with Bret (everyone did, Damn pretty boy), and now I'm all about Bobbi (best looking in his old age). Their big hair days have gone to the dogs but I'll be happy enough to stretch out on the lawn and have a cocktail with my bald buddy since Jen was kind enough to give 2 of her tickets to us...I wonder if this is a double date? Hubba hubba. I hope Bill holds my hand when they play "Every Rose Has It's Thorn". *insert cookie-tossing noise here*

Speaking of cookie-tossing, Jenny Penny came to work today for a hot, afternoon lunch date with my and Bill. We went to the white trash buffet and I ate as many mashed potatos as I possibly could. It was fun to spend time with my two favorite people without an alcohol in our systems. I regret not having the blueberry pie. Next time.

So I started my big summer art project yesterday: painting Jimmie Johnson's 48 on Bill's garage door. I'm not doing it because I like Jimmie Johnson. Hell no! I'm a Jamie McMurray girl at heart (thought I have been cheating on him with Tony Stewart as of late). I'm doing it because he's been so excited about it...like a little kid. After I spent forever taping it off just right, I let him paint the black outline. I was happier than I've been in a long time. Painting puts me in my element and watching him help and be excited about it...made my heart pump some good, goopy, warm blood. He made us some burgers and chops and we had a romantic little dinner for two in the yard. I had a nice, long shower and an even nicer, long sleep. Remember when I said that I needed to be invited back into the bed before I felt better about bad times? Well, staying in the bed ona regular basis also helps prevent bad times. It's a preventative medicine, if you will.

And now the rumor is that Bill may be attending my very important Pussyfoot Girls show at Historic Dragway 42 on Saturday! I promised him that would make me steadily happy for the next 6 weeks! And it will. You all should come out and make me steadily happy. It's the least you can do!

ROCK-n-RACE
featuring:
Ace Brown and His Hell Divers
The Pussyfoot Girls
Slack-Jawed Yokels
Lords of the Highway
Twistin' Tarantulas

Dragway 42 has a concession stand with great homemade food and beverages. There are no beer or alcohol sales at the track but you are welcome to bring your own cooler of beverages provided there are no glass bottles. There is zero tolerance for drinking and racing. If you are seen drinking beer or alcohol you will not be allowed to race! Period. Save the beer for when you are done racing.

Dragway 42 is offering free camping for the event. Bring your tent or camper and stay the night. You can race all day Sunday too. The Super 8 Motel in Seville Ohio is also offering a great room rate for the event.

We have lots planned; drag racing, car show, pinstripers, great vendors, live bands plus a couple of other surprises that are just gonna knock your socks off. Please come on out and have some fun. This is the one show you do not want to miss!

Show Times
8am-10am Swap & Vendor set up
10am Gates open
11am-3pm Racing test & tune/time trials
3pm Racing starts (2 classes slick tire & street tire)
The bands will start after the race about 6pm
Cruise-in all day!

Show Prices
ALL PRICES INCLUDE ADMISSION TO THE CAR SHOW, DRAG RACE, SWAP & VENDOR AREA PLUS THE CONCERT WITH 3 LIVE BANDS.
$10 General admission
$15 Street tire racing (includes general admission)
$30 Slick tire racing (includes general admission)
$10 Cruiser admission (dash plaques for the first 100 cars)

I just might stop to check you out.

The last few days have been rough. I've been feeling rough. I've been treated rough. It's hard to feel physically bad and then have poor emotions heaped on top of it. I guess the bottom line, and this is a sorry bottom line, is that you really can't trust anyone but yourself. You can't expect anyone to give you comfort or take care of you when you're in need because when they don't live up to your expectations, you're sunk. Still, I don't think I should have been passed up when I REALLY needed someone just so they could go out and get wasted like an idiot. Especially the day before moving day.

Which was a success. It's like she's been living here for years.

We had an impromptu par-tay which was sort of...odd. Lots of rap music and bumping-n-grinding. My fella was there, 3 dudes we work with, The Shoes, my new roomie, her honey, a new friend, and my oldest friend. It was noisey. It was smokey. And it was a little dirty, to be honest. I got lots of drunken affection (I did feed my man, after all) which I needed. I didn't even care that it was the drunken variety. I smelled good. I looked cute. Hugs, kisses, fondling. It was a good time. I was upset before it all began because of the past few rotten days I had, but I declared that all I wanted to do was have fun and that's what I did. Even when Bill crossed his limit and went from "fun drunk" to "I-don't-care-about-anything drunk", I still let things flow. We went to bed and had a good drafting session.

I never feel like a fight or odd period between us has been resolved until I'm back in the bed and drafting. Sure, it was my bed for the first time in MONTHS (that's my choice though...I prefer his bed and his home...I think my life is too cluttered for him) but we were like snakes all night. There was an entertaining moment where Bill couldn't find the bathroom because he thought we were at HIS house and walked into Jen and Tom's room eventhougth the bathroom door was open and light was ON as I anticipated late night drunk behavior. And he also couldn't go to sleep until I played "Blister In the Sun" for him. He was freaking over it!

So though I'm still carrying around this tiny bit of weirdness in my chest over situations that have developed this week...things are repairing. We will be eating pizza and watching the race today (and I have to paint a Jimmie Johnson 48 on a garage door...I've been promising forever). I like when he makes plans for "we".

I've been slacking this July but I plan to kick it into gear,

A friend indeed is exactly what I need.

The only thing I've ever wanted in my life is for Ben and Lisa to come ot my Slumber Party Massacre next month. And tight pants. And big hair. And a dragon.

I love the fact that my little sister (sure, I adopted her but she might as well be my flesh-n-blood) is turning 20 years old in a few weeks and she still has 3 baby teeth! All of her teeth are itty bitty but these are the itty bittiest ones. The runts of the litter. It sort of fascinates me in a sick and twisted way that something so absurd is going on in her mouth. But I've always been obsessed with the dental end of the facial spectrum. My fella claims he has a "cyclops tooth" and I spend too much time gazing at it longingly. But this is about Jenny Penny. Why haven't those teeth fallen out, I wonder? Maybe they just love her so much that they won't move out. I wouldn't move out if I was one of her teeth. I once read a book in my dentist's office about teeth looking for a smile. The ended up finding a toothless old lady and settling in her gums so they could help her eat pie. Who doesn't love pie? But speaking of moving out...which I mentioned a million lines back...

Jen's moving in on Saturday. Prepare for all Hell to break loose!

3 days later and I'm finally starting to NOT feel like I've been run over by 10 angry horses being chased by 20 gnarly wolves. My body took a beating at the Pussyfoot Girls' Leroy Thompson show. Don't get me wrong, the show was an utter success as far as dancing girls who have access to an open bar go. We didn't drop our knives during the knife dance and though there was the ILLUSION that I cut Jen, I didn't. I accidentally touched her jug with the flat side of the blade. The crowd roared and held their breath in suspense but everyone lived through the night. I left Mentor and all my long distance friends...Sasquatch Dave, Hucklebuck Ted, Cleveland Pete... to have a backyard fire with my fella which was all sorts of confusing since his mouth wouldn't stop and I listened to the same country compilation 4 times in a row. There were tears...but there was also...something. I can't talk about it. I'm keeping this one to myself. It was...something.

Been spending a lot of time with the fella and his offpring which is getting tricky. I'm bonding, or so I think. I have fun with those runts. But I'm still not "the girlfriend". Sure, I sleep there every night and we're looked at as a couple by everyone we know but I am technically disposable. Any minute, he could flip his wig (if he HAD a wig) and want to date every chick under the sun. I don't think that's going to happen...I think he's just being careful. If he's not ready to commit (the dreaded 'C' word), it's better that he's honest with me. My heart can't take much more abuse, you know? It deserves a gentle massage...and it's been getting just that, which scares me. I AM commited. There would be Hurricane Katrina-like devastation if I became marshmallow-less. And let's not forget the mini-marshmallows.

Everyone knows I'm his girlfriend. I just need to get him on-board with that.

Things are still rocky with someone in my life. There was a verbal brawl of sorts on Friday that I believe was totally uncalled for. Sadly, I don't feel as close to this person as I used to and that's a damn shame. Maybe things will change in the future. Who knows? When you go from actually hanging out and making plans with someone to barely remembering what fun you had together...it's rotten. I don't want to end up acquaintences but...hmmm. We shared pancakes today and as everyone knows, that's the official breakfest food of workplace peace. So at least we won't be trying to gouge each others eyeballs out with sticks that have been peed on by dogs. Not today anyway.

Then you'll miss me, won't you?

There's nothing better than having your vacation start with a life-altering event. Yes, ladies and germs, I saw both Huey Lewis and the News AND Chicago, live and in my face. I just want to run my hands through Huey's luscious hair. I have no need to know if the rumors about him are true. I just need to know what it feels like to hold on to that hair! He played all the hits outside of "Stuck With You" and "If This Is It". I was overly satisfied to the point of being gassy. And while Chicago is a little too 10-minute brass solo/interlude dependant, they played "If You Leave Me Now" and that's all that matters. I bought a $30 t-shirt instead of 5 beers. I was drunk with joy just being there. And Tessa was a wonderful date, even if she didn't put out.

And then it was off to Heavy Rebel at 5am.

What can I say about Heavy Rebel that you don't already know, considering I travelled with a majority of you thugs? We had 5+ hotel rooms worth of hooligan pals running amuck in the warmth of Winston-Salem. We ruled the school. While it tended to be a more low-key Heavy Rebel, I think I had the best time. I saw bands I love, rocked the HELL out, drank beer, ordered room service, slept in, maxed-n-relaxed with all the Ol' Kentucky Sharks, recieved much welcomed and heart-pumping phone calls from the home front, danced, bought stickers for my future new mobile, saw pals from around the states...and I even farted on a girl in someone else's honor. Juvenile YET hilarious. Vacation produces a lot of excess gas. I didn't swim. I didn't see Red Hot Poker Dots. I didn't order dessert. I didn't get a lap dance from Lisa. But regardless, life was good at Heavy Rebel 2006. You should have seen how happy Deacon from the Brimstones and I were.

But life didn't calm down once I returned on Monday.

I had to interupt to say that my fella just walked into my cubicle with a vanilla Snack Pack in hand and said, "Want some pudding, Pudding?". While insanely gay, I thought it was terribly sweet. And yes, I did in fact want some pudding. I am enjoying it now as I type. YUM! He's my hero and he knows it.

So I get back in town and hauled ass to my home away from home after actually being AWAY from my home. Gave the cats a quick pet and was on my way to that big, cushy bed in Garfield where my marshmallow lives. We missed each other. It was good to get big hugs. He took me to dinner and we had beers around a backyard fire with friends. We were tipsy and goofy and smoochie. The best feeling was telling him that I would paint a giant 48 on his garage door and seeing how happy it made him. Making him happy really rocks my socks off...and then my socks got rocked off and I slept like a baby. A baby sleeping on a giant marshmallow!

The holiday was utterly berzerk! I didn't stop for even a second! I was like Speed Racer! Speed Racer on Meth, perhaps! Got up, got out of dodge (and I didn't want to get out...I was blissful), went to a family function, had PFG practice, went to a fella family function where I went Vodka nutty (Mandarine, Raspberry, and good, ol' regular), and went back to the bed. It was hard to get up yesterday. It's not good to drink your weight in alcohol when you have to go back to work after vacation. I felt ultimately pretty nasty and beat. I wrapped yesterday up with pizza, a chick flick, and some serious drafting. I feel like a million bucks.

But I need a vacation from my vacation.

If you're anyone important, you'll be at Leroy Thompson Choppers this Saturday, July 8th for the 3rd Annual Rockabilly Deluxe! Your $10 admission grants you the right to feast your eyes on 1988, Slack-Jawed Yokels, Legendary Hucklebucks, THE PUSSYFOOT GIRLS, Lords of the Highway, and Sasquatch and the Sick-a-Billys, in that order. Plus, bikes and beer. What more could you want? 8685 Twinbrook Rd. Mentor, OH 44060. Any questions? Don't bug me! Bug them! 440-266-1635.

No one can stop us. Nothing is in the way

The knife dance is done and hot! Hot like a lobster that's been boiling in a pot and screaming it's little, red, beaked head off in that horrific screeching manner. And not only did neither of the O'Shannahan sister lose an eye or a digit or any skin at all, we didn't even DROP the knives! NOT ONCE! I did slice part of my table open but that was better than making Jen bleed, you know? And wood doesn't whine so much when you impale it.

Tomorrow night, I am going to bare witness to two more points on the 5-pointed Star of Easy Listening: Huey Lewis & the News and Chicago! How excited am I??? Why, I am more excited than a starving woman who's being served a lobster that's been boiling in a pot and screaming it's little, red, beaked head off in that horrific screeching manner. And that lobster is covered in butter and served with an icy cold frosty beverage. And bread! Because who doesn't like bread with their dinner? Communists, that's who. Regardless...

Tessa is my date for the evening and I'm pretty jazzed about that. We're both geeky easy listening fans and I can pretty much guarantee we'll be the hottest chicks on the farm. There's no one I'd rather share this evening with because she will sing and she will get excited and she will be excited FOR ME when I get excited and she probably won't even get embarrassed if I wet my pants or cry. She's cool like that. It was worth the money to celebrate her birthday this way and it will go down in history as one of the moments where I was blissful. I feel like I should bring some dried mangos. I'll get right on that!

Ideal HUEY LEWIS AND THE NEWS set list:
Heart of Rock-n-Roll
If This Is It
Power of Love
Stuck With You
Workin' For a Livin'
Heart and Soul
Doin' It All For My Baby
I Want a New Drug

Ideal CHICAGO set list:
Inspiration
Hard To Say I'm Sorry
Stay the Night
Along Comes a Woman
Look Away
Will You Still Love Me?
Hard Habit To Break
Love Me Tomorrow
If You Leave Me Now
What Kind of Man I Be?

P.S. Little Jenny Penny will be the occupant of the blue cowboy room at the Ol' Kentucky Shark Corral. She's not paying as much as Phoebe did but I know I can live with her, I'll take what money I can get, she'll CLEAN, she'll be good to the cats, she'll take care of me when I'm sick, and her boyfriend rocks. So for the time being, things are gravy. Belt is still going to be tight but there's gravy involved now.

Opened her mouth with a razor blade.

Things are getting dicey at Camp PFG! Slash!

Little Jen and I are doing a dance to "One Sharp Knife" at the July 8th Leroy Thompson Choppers show. If she doesn't slice my face open (the blade...yes, we're using REAL knives...really BIG knives...really SHARP knives...comes deadly close to my face from time to time when my dear little sister's head goes into the clouds), it will be incredible. We're preparing special bloody aprons (my cats are helping make modifications) for a costume change. We're going all out. Life is good in the Pussyfoot hood!

You should come out and watch us strut!
Saturday July 8th @ Leroy Thompson Choppers w/1988, Slack Jawed Yokels, Legendary Hucklebucks, Lords of the Highway, Sasquatch and the Sick-a-Billys (Pete Yorko's triumphant return to his home-sweet-home). Gates at 4:00. Bands at 4:30. $10.

Saturday July 22nd @ Dragway 42 in West Salem w/ Ace Brown and His Hell Divers, Lords of the Highway, and Twistin Tarantuals. This is an all day fun affiar at a quarter mile dragstrip. Swap meets, vendors, street and slick tire drag racing (with prizes!!) and a car show. ALL DAY! Racing at 3:00. Bands at 6:00. $10.

Saturday July 29th @ Beachland Tavern w/ Bob's Country Bunker and the Capgun Cowboys reunion!! Always a rockin' good time at the Beachland. 9:00. $5.

Other notes of interested? My fella met my parents, I bought 2 new Hot Wheels, we bought our first joint thing (Yahtzee), I think I'm getting a cold, I rested most of the weekend, picked Ben and Lisa up from the airport and had a lovely lunch, my broken back and I vegged with some Vicodin, went to a family function, had a great practice with my bitches, more vegging, and TODAY...I recieved my Huey Lewis/Chicago AND Heavy Rebel tickets! I need to finsih my laundry and get to packin'! Time is a-wastin'. I'm blowing this pop stand at 5am on Friday! WEEEEEEEEE!

Look out Winston-Salem!

You'll know why my heart does nothing but burn.

Some of my skin just flaked off of my chest like it would from a snake. If I had a microscope, I'd like to take a good look at it. I'd have to make sure I had a trash can close by to heave into because that's just flipping sick. I ain't no mad scientist, baby. I'm just a fair-skinned Irish girl with a sunburn. Screw you, sun. You ain't no friend of mine. Ain't, ain't, ain't.

I've been crying a lot for the past 24 hours. My face is pretty puffy-n-swollen and It's obvious to everyone in the office that I haven't slept. I used to think I looked the most beautiful after I cried because my eyes got really red which made them appear very green. And I always get the Angelina Jolie lip thing going on. Today I just look strung out which is bringing me additional pain.

There is a little. black, rain cloud hovering over my head taunting me like a relentless bitch. I'd like to shoot it with a spear or a lawn jart. I predict that I would then be soaked and I hate being in wet clothes. Bottom line...the VERY bottom, the gutter if you will...is that I am depressed.

I feel like my whole life is going to change due to my living situation alterations. I know Phoebe has to move on with her life. Hell, if I wasn't a home owner and officially HAD a boyfriend rather than a playmate, and he asked me to move in, you'd see a Road Runner-esque cloud of smoke behind me as I packed my bags. I guess I'm disappointed because we had VERY recently, like last week, discussed the possibility of her moving out and that was just unthinkable any time soon. And yet, her change of address was submitted at work yesterday. And it's also upsetting because I think this will hurt the friendship. She's not my prisoner...it's not like that. But we live together (supposedly) and I never hang out with her. My psychic powers are telling me that I will see her even LESS when her shit is occupying my domain. So...it's upsetting, as you can imagine.

And of course, the fat needs to be trimmed from this steak in order to make it healthy for me. So I have to get rid of Netflix which is TERRIBLY upsetting since it brings me nothing but joy. I might try to decrease my number of disks and see if I can hack it. Trying to get out of my gym contract. Not betting on NASCAR at work anymore. Trying to find homes for the Ol' Kentucky Cats which pretty much makes me want to slash my throat with a rusty hacksaw. And most recently, the wheels in my head have been suggesting that it's time for me to retire my dancin' shoes and say good-bye to the Pussyfoot Girls. When will I have time to devote to them if I'm planning on getting a second job AND going back to school?

Oh yeah...I'm going back to school to get an additional Associate's degree.

I'm sad and I feel very lonely. It's hard to be lonely when you're in love because you start asking yourself, "Should I really be feeling this way when there's a person I'm crrrrrraaaaazzzzzyyyyy about in my life?". It's not good to start asking yourself these questions. And I shouldn't even HAVE shit like this on my mind. My fella should be the easy and squishy and reliable part of it all. Not another thing to worry about. Not something else to appease. But I can't let him go. He owns my heart.

Life is a rotten apple right now.

And I can tell you're going through the motions.

According to Tommy Bones, many people say that red is a sexy and exciting color. While he may tend to agree, I tend to want to spew blood all over the color red. But that doesn't make a whole boatload of sense now does it? I am being a Bitchy McBitch because I am sunburned from the jugs up, including my ears, and there's also a lovely section of my calves that are of a bright crimson persuasion since I had my pants cuffed. It's rather embarrasing, insanely painful, and for whatever reason is making me want to lose my lunch...and I haven't had lunch yet. Pity me. I beg you. And bring on the ALOE!

I am rockin' a hillbilly tan which makes sense since I spent a great deal of my weekend playing the part. I might as well have been flipping toothless with a pet pig! I drank Busch Light, I cooked on a grill, I slept in a tent, had a cloud of dirt trailing me at all times, and watched cars go round-n-round-n-round, cheering with all the other rednecks. And let's not forget that I flipped up a random chick's skirt, got hit in the ass with beads from a man who wanted me to "show us your tits"...which I did NOT...and I hula hooped for strangers. There were lots of high fives. It was an experience I'll never forget and would possibly repeat if I lathered up properly.

I was the only person rockin' a Jamie McMurray shirt. He'll be my next hubby fo' sho.

So I return home from my trip and learn that I won't have a roomie for too much longer. I'm on the hunt for someone to occupy some space at my house. Here...word for word...is how I babbled about it on My Space, just incase you live in a cave or have your head up the head of a moose and missed it.

So it looks like I may be losing my roomie. The situation surrounding the move makes sense. I'm not mad...disappointed. Sort of going to be in a bind. So the room mate search is on. I'm looking for someone close to me (relationship wise) to move in. Not that I might not end up having to go with a stranger or what not but that's really not what I'm hoping for. I love my house and my belongings. I would love to love my roomie, too. So here are the details:

You've probably all been to my house but still...I live in West Park in a NICE neighborhood close to 480, 71, and 90. It's a 2 bedroom house (the room for rent isn't huge but it does have an enclosed sunporch which rocks. 1 bath and it's a nice bath. Semi-finished dormer attic, garage, and a nice, dry, clean cellar for storage, plus a kick-ass basement that's you've probably all partied in. Fenced in backyard, long driveway, washer and dryer. And then, of course, there's the good ol' living room, dining room, eat-in kitchen (with a dishwasher), and front porch perfect for drinking beer on.

The rent is $350 a month and that includes utilities. Might sound steep but it's an entire house you'd have the run of, not a teeny weenie apartment. I don't expect you to sit in your room and never come out. I mean COME ON. No utilities! I have cable and that applies to the computer, yadda yadda.

I rarely sleep there anymore. In fact, I haven't slept there in 3 weeks! I do have 3 cats, so if you're allergic, it might not be the best situation for you. I'm pretty easy to live with when I'm there. The house needs some spring cleaning but it's a nice, clean place to live for the most part (and I have a dishwasher!!!). I don't expect much besides the rent to be paid on time and help keeping the joint clean...taking out garbage if you're there and it's not out, starting and emptying the dishwasher if it needs it, feeding my kids if their bowls are empty. Blah blah blah.

So there you have it. Any questions...just ask.

Wish me luck. Living in a house alone could prove tuff. My ulcer hurts.

It's a grade-A meal when I'm in the moooood.

I am easy to please. Many of you out there may think I'm a difficult and picky person but really, I am pretty damn easy to please! Redundant, I know! For example, tonight I am going to my FAVORITE pizza place (Antonio's of Parma, OH fame) with Switch for dinner and you'd think I won the lottery the way I'm dancing around this place with smiley-faced glee. I'm going to happily eat Stromboli until it comes out of my eyeballs! Though I may have just killed my appetite with that visual.

And tomorrow is race day. We've been counting it down for months and months and it's finally here (with Heavy Rebel trailing close behind)! I was stressed beyond belief yesterday trying to widdle down my "To Do" list to the point where I was unpleasant to be around, I'm sure. But my guy was a good, soft shoulder to lean on. He let me be crabby (as long as he was reasurred that I wasn't mad at him) and was accomodating me with shoulder rubs and silly things to make me laugh. I was informed that making me laugh was something he just has to do!

I was practically having a FIT trying to pick out a steak for him for the race. It just HAD to be perfect. It's like the steak will make or break the whole weekend...and that's just in my head. I want him to have something nice. He deserves it. And in my head, what he needs is a nice steak. And what a steak it is! I would like to make sweet love to it in all it's thick, red, juicy, steaky glory. Oh steak, how I love you so but will happily eat the Hell out of you like a wolverine ripping through a deer!

Revised version of my pre-race "To Do" list:
-Work 5.5 hours more of an 8 hour day without Bill or Sharon...boo.
-Pick up camera and free film from my mommy's house.
-Finish my laundry.
-Pussyfoot practice (3 BIG shows next month).
-Empty trunk.
-Shower again and paint toenails.
-Pack!!!
-Go to dinner with Switchblade.
-Hit a bar to celebrate Eerie Tessa's 27th birthday.
-Head to Garfield and CRASH...can't sleep without him.
-Greet 5am with a smile!
-AND THEY'RE OFF - Michigan International Speedway, here we come!

I better get back to work. I really have nothing to do which is going to make this the longest and most drawn out day in the history of time. Plus, it's so quiet here. It's just a titch eerie here in the office and I suspect a ghost is looming in my cubicle. But I'm not going to worry about that now. I'm just going to worry about being the coolest chick (and possible the ONLY chick...unless they're thinking with their vaginas like me rather than putting forth any true knowledge of NASCAR) on Team McMurray.

I hope my car makes it. Oh Betty Blue!

Oh I will be alright. Just use me. Just use me.

I H8 giving people their time frames. It's murdering me.

Who got the new AFI album last night? Like you even had to ask. It's growing on me like a creepy, fuzzy, black fungus that might ACTUALLY be a huge spider. But their last album took a while to burrow into my heart of chrome and now it's an important part of me...like my vagina! All I can say is that they had me "Afflcition". Specifically because it includes the word ennui. I love ennui.

By the way, my head is going to fall off and roll, roll, roll like the wheels on a big rig.

Phoebe called off work today at, what seems to me, the very last second. I was not informed by anyone of said call off until, what seems to me, the second last very last second. There were things that had to be done this morning, bright-n-early, to get the wheels of our delivery machine shakin'. So from the second I walked in the door, it's been chaos. Usually I like a little chaos but not until I've had some Pepsi or a blueberry muffin. This day has been bitch slappin' me in the face left-n-right. I am NOT approachable today. I would seriously steer clear if I were you.

So besides an putrid, rotten, stinking corpse of a day at work, I have at least 27 things to do by tomorrow night in preparation for my NASCAR adventure. Somehow I don't think folding two shirts, washing my jeans, and packing my travel items is gonna cut it for an entire weekend's worth of "fun".

I still have to do the following before 5:00a Saturday:
-Go grocery shopping w/Sharon to feed myself and the fella for the weekend.
-Go to the butcher shop for steaks (our big weekend meal treat).
-Finish my laundry.
-Eat dinner.
-Pussyfoot practice (3 BIG shows next month).
-Shower.
-Pack clothes and junk for work tomorrow.
-Take sleeping bag, pillows, and lawn chairs to Sharon's house.
-Go to the fellas and CRASH...can't sleep without him.
-Work an 8 hour day without Bill OR Sharon...boo.
-Vacuum car and empty trunk.
-Shower again and paint toenails.
-Pack!!!
-Go to dinner with Switchblade.
-Hit a bar to celebrate Eerie Tessa's 27th birthday.
-Drop Switchblade off and head to Garfield.
-CRASH...can't sleep without him.
-Try with all my might to wake my guy.
-AND THEY'RE OFF - Michigan International Speedway, here we come!

Think I can get it all done without forgetting anything? It's been very stressful just getting everyone on the same page about who's buying what, who's eating what, when are we leaving, what do we still need? It's been riling me up and sort of putting me off about the whole thing. But my fella is excited. He knows we're going to have a good time. He NEEDS this trip away and I am going to make DAMN SURE I have a happy face on all weekend so he can destress. A happy Bill makes a happy Lacey. So this trip is important for both of us. AND it's our first weekend trip together. So who's got too thumbs and is totally gay?!?! THIS GUY!

I'll be back on Buckeye State ground Monday afternnon. Take care of Ohio for me.

Taking on the world, that was just my style.

3 days to the race and 17 to HRW. I could puke any second.

There's really nothing more fulfilling than doing laundry! Once again I have options and am not recycling the same 2 gray t-shirts. Now I have MANY gray t-shirts to pick from. And knickers! Tons and tons of knickers! I could swim through them as if they were the Pantaloon Sea! Yes ladies and germs, I am happy to have clean clothes. I could only be happier if the folding fairy would stop by. Le sigh. Le sigh.

I had to kick myself in the arse to warsh clothes so I had more than just the uniform tube tops and Daisy Dukes to wear to Michigan this weekend. I may be going to watch me some Nascar but that doesn't mean I have to go braless and black out some teeth. Though I may try to find an obnoxious neon scrunchie so I can fit in at least a little. But in the end, I have my 2 custome made (and kick-ass) Jamie McMurray shirts and brand new pajama shorts with little race cars on them so if I'm not just the most adorable thing you've ever seen well...too bad for you, Ray Charles.

Second to my lusty laundry obsession, of course, is my insanity over travel items! Who knew so many things came travel sized!? I went hog wild on my lunch hour. Toothpaste, mouthwash, shampoo, conditioner, lotion, face wash, face scrub, a tiny loooofa, body wash, Q-tips, shaving cream, razors, deoderant...all fitting into a teeeny, tiny, adorable pink case!! Loving it. Just loving it! I was sort of down-n-out about the race recently but a nice e-mail from my Dad and my lunchtime race preparation has sort of made me giddy. Here I come, Michigan International Speedway. Bow down and worship in front of my tent!

Today is the 13th day of June. I have spend 11 nights in someone else's bed, 10 of them in a row. I'm hoping to make tonight 13/11. I better go shave my legs. Maybe I'll shave my cats, too. They're looking a little warm these days!

VIVA!

I've got friends on the inside pullin' strings.

Put down your prunes. I'm bringing back your regularity.

I am never at home anymore. I'm pretty sure my cats hate me and are planning a mutiny. I spent a few hours here on my couch yesterday and actually felt semi-awkward, like I was in a stranger's house. I actually elected to come back here and spend some time bonding with my house. I'm going to make lunch, do laundry, and clean my car out for this weekend's race and the big Heavy Rebel road trip. I can't even believe it's less than 3 weeks away. I'm wetting my drawers in anticipation. So that's my plan...spend some time at the old homestead accomplishing whatever I can before I no doubt return to my home away from home in good, ol' Garfield.

There's really not too much to report. I've been working, drinking, hanging with my fella, hanging with my fella and his kids. There hasn't been any fire breathing or drag races. Finally had a Pussyfoot practice and are getting the ball rollin' for the Leroy Thompson show next month. Had some mini-spats here and there with various peeps, including my dude who's been hittin' the sauce a little too hard these days and not stepping up to the plate. But I think we have that under control...I have two stuffed kittens that are pretty much symbolic of "I'm a big, fat jerk and I need you to forgive me". But of course there's always drama with this guy...his ex-wife is trying to stir up trouble, his ex-girlfriend knows about me and is getting rowdy. Can't a girl just find a dude to take her to the movies without loosing her mind??

I just have to keep my mind focused on my upcoming adventures. A whole weekend with my dude...sure, it's at a race but it's going to be a good time. We may even leave the track early Sunday and spend the night in a hotel! How excited does that make me? Fiesty excited! And then HEAVY REBEL! Jen May is making me a new skirt and I'm prepping the car as soon as I walk away from this electronic contraption. The summer is looking bright ahead. Only downside...I had lots of blood drawn and that is NEVER EVER fun. And I've been having some bretahing problems. And my car is being homosexual when it's cold. Regardless...June rocks.

Sorry thsi wasn't more interesting. Just trying to keep track of where I've been and what I've done. I'm going to try and NOT remember that I threw up in the Panera parking lot yesterday. That doesn't need to stay in the scrap book.

The system's got me feelin' so fiiiiiiine!

I have someone who inspires me to paint. Be jealous!

I got a big pile of bad news on Friday and I mean Bad News Bears, Tanner Boyle-style. It made for a horrific work day, not to mention a very emotional me which is never pretty. I hate being emo! It really doesn't work for me anymore. I have only filled a few people in with the gorey details and they've been very, very supportive. But I have a lot on my plate right now and I'm going to be moody from time to time and if I were to blab the whole story, you'd know why. You'd understand. And no, there are no buns in this oven so the rumor mill can stop running right now. There were lots of tears on Friday and I needed lots of comforting...and alcohol. But of course, alcohol mixed with my emotions made me hot in the brain and my anger turned to fury and wrath and I misdirected it...at the man I love.

No, scratch that. I directed it in JUST the right spot but it could have been handled differently. I need to just say flat out how I feel and what I need rather than keeping everything bottled up and then popping my top. No one likes to be covered in my brains and splatter. But after several beers, two bottles of wine, and yes, more beer, I was no longer wrangling my emotions. They were roaming free and it made for a bad night's sleep.

During a morning "Are you alright, you damn spazz?" kind of phone call, things were still rocky between me and my fella. After all, I left a sobbing 2:00am message for him because I needed him to be there for me and felt abandoned. That's not how it was but like I said, I'm sensitive right now. I have self-pity goggles on. I chose to take the high road after a few hours of channel surfing and sleeping though. I swallowed my nerves and called, being sure to wear my happy voice. Told him I felt better (even if it's not totally true) and asked if we could hang out. I got the entire Saturday! We ended up going grocery shopping, he cooked me dinner on the grill, we watched a movie, and crash all tangled up like snakes. I needed to sleep like that. I needed to be incubated and drafted.

Woke up to a yummy fella-prepared breakfast and left on a high note...good hugs, good kisses, good moods. This left the day open to spend with my favorite people, The Shoe-Lanes! Ain't no party like a Shoe-Lane party! Had some cocktails with lunch and then saw X-Men 3 (I love you, Logan...love, love, love) which was damn good! Just got home and can honestly say this was a very fulfilling Sunday. I haven't had one of these since the days of Becky and Kent (screw you, Kent...I don't miss your hippie town one bit). In fact, I'm going to call Becky when I'm done typing away. That would be more productive then watching pornography, I think.

I'd say life is good but I'm in a low place. I'm trying to balance this rough patch with how happy certain things and people can make me (I actually LIKE being called "Lace", makes my heart-go-throb). I just need to appreciate the good things like a home-made goofy dessert, getting my head rubbed, holding hands, and lots of belly laughs. Laughter is a good medicine, I think. Someone should tell Bon Jovi.

Wasting my time. Hoping you'll stop by.

Last night was one of the best nights of my life and it wasn't even fancy. In fact, I didn't even have to leave the bed. Sometimes taking a 20 minute drive at night just to watch cartoons in your pajamas and 'draft' someone is the most amazing thing on the flipping planet.

It's even better than cheese fondue.

I fell in love and
I needed a roadmap
To find out where you lived
So excited now

Sleepwalking, cuz I'm sleepwalking

The white trash boys
Listen to the headphones
Blasting white noise
In the convenience store parking lot

I hung around there
Wasting my time
Hoping you'll stop by

Cuz I'm sleepwalking, I'm sleepwalking

A mutual friend's parents
Left town for a week
So we raided their liquor stash
And walked down by the riverside

Sleepwalking, cuz I'm sleepwalking