Everybody's going off the deep end.

Once again, I need a weekend from my weekend! Estuvo loco!

Friday night...usually my favorite night of the week cause a bitch can unwind...was chaotic and paved the way for the craziness ahead indeed. Friday could have really set the tone for an awful and awfully long weekend but things can shock you from time to time. Friday...what to say about it really?

After a really screwy and mind-numbing work-realted fuck up, Sharon and I had girls night (while our boys built a fence like manly men) and really painted the town blood red. Bars, it's what we're good at. And rocking out to Miss Firecracker, we're good at that, too. Somewhere in all the insanity, there was a pole...and that's all I'm saying about that right there. And while I didn't think I had a lot to drink (in fact, I know I didn't have much at all but I also didn't have any chow), I supposedly turned into a jerkwad. But I can honestly say the jerkwad who dubbed me a jerkwad was also being a jerkwad. The jerkiness was contagious. After a night sleeping on different levels of the digs...things were gravy.

Saturday was...Saturday. Not a let down but not a thrill aminute. I thought I was poisoned earlier in the day but that passed. I kept declaring that I wanted my heart to stop beating but I really just needed it to slow the fuck down! My hatred for Home Depot and earthworms grew ever steadily but I stuck my hands in the muck and got a little dirty beautifying Bill's yard. It was satisfying as I used a shovel and handled mulch and did landscape design. I didn't sweat but it was still good stuff. I feel asleep early (I usually do when Bill's grilled chicken is involved...he's helping me in my weight loss/healthier life style plan) but that was a good deal because Sunday...whew!

Sunday, The Pussyfoot Girls piled in to two cars and high-tailed it to Pittsburgh for the Sacred Pistons Car Club's annual picnic. I had reservations but man...BLAST CITY! Everyone we met was gr-r-r-r-reat and friendly and we certainly made some new fans. We got some fat cash for performing (and our set was quite a delight...in my top 5 list, for sure...when you're not sure you'll ever seen people again, you can really go buck wild), sold a bunch of merch (thanks to Jen, her tight shirt, and her peddling ways), and just really rocked out, Memorial Day style! Our new songs went off without a hitch and I even pulled off a back bend while getting wrenched on by a hot broad. And then there was me, Karen (my future roomie) and some rowdy antics in a really old car full of liquor bottles that didn't belong to us. But that's not so PG-13! There are photos, mercy me!

And yesterday was a slice of Americana. A home-prepared rib dinner, movies, major napping, and never getting out of our pajamas...not once. Like I said, Friday could have opened the door for a really long weekend alone. But going to bed together on Sunday night, chatting up what a swell weekend we had was far superior. I like not sweating the small stuff. Like is good...and the summer is going to make it even better! Checkout the countdown, my babies:

3 hours until I can work out!
11 days until the Poconos!
18 days until Tessa's birthday jam and Jen's housewarming!
38 days until Heavy Rebel!
45 days until Leroy Thompson!
52 days until Dragway 42!
59 days until Indianapolis!
83 days until Miami, Key West, y Cozumel!

I'll try to do it right this time around.

To my ever-present mood monitores...I feel better today. MUCH better, honestly. It seems to come and go in waves and when it's bad, you sink. I hate feeling blue and I hate crying about it and I hate crying period! And E, while I'm NOT glad that you are are feeling the same waves also, I AM glad that someone else out there knows how I feel and isn't being judgey. And I feel better today so maybe that will give you solace. I got some solace of my own reading how you were feeling and sensing some, dare I say, "don't-give-a-Fuck"-ish-ness! It made me also not give a flip. And now I feel better. I feel like James Brown. I'll blame the *insert emo band here* attitude on my period or something else cliche.

But fo' real, I have so much rockin' stuff coming up and boatloads of good pals that keep me sane and a boyfriend who is crazy but loves me. Pussyfoot has been kicking ass and taking names (cliche cliche), working out is my new favorite thing to do and I'm already seeing and feeling some rockin' results, our cruise to Mexico was booked yesterday (!!!)...there's just so much good stuff. Why be blue? Why feel terrible and not sleep and not eat and have a permanently wrinkled forehead when you can laugh until your sides split and flirt and dance and have cocktails and feel accomplished and proud? I'm over this moody bullshit. I'm over people and the stupid shit they say to make themselves feel better. If being retarded helps you sleep at night, I'm all for it! I'm going to be inappropriate with my boyfriend in my cubicle instead of worrying about people and their hang-ups...or worrying period! Did you throw up just then? I bet you did and I'm lovin' it!!!

On a less vile note, CONGRATULATIONS Brian Daniel Leo! You're an adult member of the Catholic church now. And you know what comes with this besides super sugary cake with a cross on it and oodles of checks from family members? Catholic guilt, baby. Live it, love it, and keep on rockin' out to Slayer! Blood, guts, and gore will feed your soul far more than that little wafer. But honestly, Jesus rocks, too. You just need to find your own way to balance it.

Amen.

But my head's to the wall and I'm lonely.

I just feel like the most awful, rotten version of myself today. I feel like complete fucking garbage. That wasn't even an interesting description but it's true. I feel like a kicked dog. I've only been at work for half an hour and I've been fighting back tears the whole time which pretty much makes me want to just get in my car and never come back here. No two weeks notice. No packing up my rubber duck collection. Just walking out on everything and everybody. It's pathetic, I know. I feel very pathetic today and whiney today and I honestly wish today was over so I could just crawl in bed and hide. That's what I'm good at. Groveling and begging and hiding.

I'm having one of those very pitiful moments in my life where I feel like I can't do anything right no matter how hard I try. I feel like I'm always doing something wrong and that I'm feeling shitty and depressed more often than I'm feeling great and having fun. It shouldn't be this way. I shouldn't have to work so hard and kiss so much ass to keep things good. I shouldn't have to fight back tears all of the time and certainly shouldn't have to feel shame. I'm honestly starting to hate myself. I guess that gives me something in common with all those people out there who hate me, too.

And you want the day to come sooner.

I had to go to calling hours for an 18 year old boy and it was incredibly difficult. I would have stayed home in a second if someone told me it was alright. I was all full of nerves on the drive and Bill wasn't any better so comforting one another was out. We did look sharp though. We always look sharp for funerals. It's kind of sick. Regardless, one of my drivers lost a son and it was very emotional and very quiet so OF COURSE I wore the world's loudest shoes! I was a walking wreck. Luckily, I only cried a little. Paid my respects and was on my way. I feel terrible for my guy though...I can't even imagine what going through something like that would feel like. I don't want to think about it. He's in my prayers and I hope he's alright. I told him I was there for whatever he needed so I guess that's all I can really do. Still...boo.

To make things even more emo...I went to see Morrissey last night! The pope of mope! He really was amazing though. He translates very well live. He ever rocked some Smith's songs!! Weeee. I went with my sister which was fun and enjoyed one cocktail so I feel relatively alright today. Not as emotionally drained as I thought I would be after one of the most depressed musicians in history rocked out.

There was a lot of eye candy there but as my sister said...it wasn't for me, wink wink. Lots and lots of boys...and they rushed the stage and kissed Morrissey's sweaty neck and were tackled by huge bouncers (which they probably LOVED). He even through out 2 sweaty shirts! Morrissey's backs SWEATS like MAD! Eek, 2 lesbians announced their upcoming articially inseminated baby and Morrissey didn't care just like most of the audience. It's due in January...it BARELY exists! But It was a nice evening despite the lesbians. I like music. I didn't like the opening bitch who made dolphin noises for an hour and had a big band-aid on her knee. She can go die. Regardless...

Highlights:
National Front Disco
Panic
The Queen Is Dead
How Soon Is Now?
Everyday Is Like Sunday
Please, Please, Please
Boy With the Thorn In His Side
At Last I Am Born
First Of the Gang To Die (!!!)
I've Changed My Plea To Guilty (!!!)
Drive-In Saturday
And more...

This weekend will bring some cheer. So far it's not all gloom and doom out the cubicle window. Blue skies, green trees. Bill and I are having a mini-cookout and a fire (after I work out, of course) cause that's what we like to do. I could eat his chicken on the grill and curl up next to him with cocktails in lawn chairs forever. Le sign. Tomorrow we're vegging (after I work out, of course) so our energy is all rallied for Miss Firecracker's One Woman Band! She said I'm totally her groupie and I say it's OK because I don't just follow her around...we eat tacos together also. And Sunday, I'm going to lay low with my fella. Maybe shoot some Yahtzee. Run home, feed my babies, pitch my trash. Then it's right back to where I belong. Yeah...good times.

No one ever said it would be so hard.

Tonight will mark a very important milestone in my life as a television junkie. It's almost too painful to talk about but I'm hoping this will be therapeutic and give my anguished heart some sweet relief. Even now, I feel like my eyes could well up with tears at any second and my chest could puff up with disappointment and disdain. I knew it was coming though I had hoped and hoped and even prayed that those fools at the CW would change their minds...their tiny peanut minds. They didn't.

Tonight is the last episode of Gilmore Girls ever. It's over.

I know it will be a great episode. I know Luke and Lorelai will kiss. I know I will have box sets of all 7 seasons to replay at will. I know that I know more about Gilmore Girls than anyone else on this planet and beyond. But no new episodes? Ever? It just hurts too much. We'll never see a Luke and Lorelai wedding. We'll never see the birth of new Gilmore Girls. We'll see see KIRK! EVER! AGAIN! Sure there are terrible things happening in the world right now that should prove more important and take a higher rank in my mind. But THIS...this is my number one. Cut off my leg and hit me in the face with it. It won't compare to my current woes.

Viva la Gilmore Girls!

Outside of that, I just took a little stroll with my fella to the edge of our work property to measure a sign. It's nice to be out of the office, even for just a few minutes. People honked at us and why not? My ass is looking phat today (and not so fat after I go work out...Sharon and I joined a new program and I plan on being fit and toned by the time we set sail to Meh-hee-co). We found some nice, dry firewood out there that we might use to have a fire on Friday. I think if Bill could have a fire every day, all year round...he would. And I'd be there as long as I have a hoodie and a cocktail!

Nothing to do on Saturday? Well I have somethign for you! Have somethign to do? Cancel! Cause miss Firecracker's One Woman Band is playing at the Beachland Tavern and I'll be right up front, obnoxiously screaming, "DO IT CAROL!". Uncle Scratch's Gospel Revival will be there, too. And some other bands, yadda yadda, but this is who I care about. Get down to the Beachland and buy a Miss Firecracker kazoo. And buy a beer for me!

Tell me darling I'm the only one that you love.

My temporary state of death and destruction is done for! I'm back to bouncing off the walls and laughing until my sides split and unleash a pack of robot wolves on the world! Even the robot wolves are feeling frisky and friendly these days, God bless those nasty bastards! Spring is in the air. I need to embrace it and be less riled up. I'm speaking my mind when I must and not sweating the small stuff. I want to have an awesome summer and I can't do that when I'm plotting gruesome murders and beat downs. The only thing that could make life better right now is if I had a Sichuan Mary with no olives!!!

Things That Will/Do Make My Awesome Life More Awesome
1. Natasha is still on America's Next Top Model!
2. Pussyfoot show in Eeeeeeerie, PA tomorrow!
3. All you can eat speghetti at the Villager on Sunday!
4. A gaggle of Miss Firecracker shows to go to!
5. Sacred Pistons car club picnic with the PFG!
6. Visiting Becky's new home!
7. Race in the Poconos!
8. Tessa's birthday party/Jen's housewarming!
9. Heavy Rebel!
10. Leroy Thompson's 4th Annual Rockabilly Deluxe!
11. Rock-n-Race at Dragway 42!
12. Kissing the bricks at the Indianapolis race!
13. Cruise to MEXICO with my Puffin!!!

Lucky 13. Lucky me!

She wanna hit and run.

I'm in a nasty mood. I'm pretty sure I'm going to take someone down with me today and I'm pretty sure I know who it is. I am so infuriated that my skin actually hurts. The skin on my forehead, to be exact. I would love more than anything to punch someone in the face or possibly pick up a folding chair and get them in the back of the skull. Awesome. Today is going to rot.

The SCOTS show was incredible but I don't want to tarnish the glow on this page of filth. I'll brag when I feel sunnier.

Take the easy way and give in!

"They look at danger and they laugh their heads off!" - I think maybe Morrissey was talking about me when he sang this because I've been out and about, wrecking shit and stealing things. Not really, I'm just hyper active and have been as of late. But back to Mo...he actually sang this ditty all upbeat and junk. Imagine that! He must have written it on the one day out of his life that he didn't have sand in his vagina. Bottom line, I love that line. I love that song. I love that sexually confused man and his weird sweaters and big head!

Celebrate Cinco de Mayo with the Pussyfoot Girls!

Big Pussyfoot show on Saturday at the Beachland. PFG, Lords of the Highway, Southern Culture On the Skids! A-maz-ing! I really wanted to wear a wig in honor of Mary Huff but I just don't have the funds to fund a 'do. But I have something better to honor Mary with: Big Sandy gave me a kiss...*blush*...to pass on to her. Maybe she'll be taken aback by a random half dressed stranger smooching on her but...OK, it's really a gift for me! Back to what's important...

This is a pretty big deal showy show for us kittens...I mean, Southern Culture in the BALLROOM with a $16 ticket price??? Hot-cha! Carol wanted to do it so badly so I'm glad it all came together, even if it's just 3 of us. And speaking of Carol...she'll be playing her bass clarinet on a few of SCOTS numbers! YOWZA! And don't be disappointed that we'll be one gal down (I'm not saying if it's the chick with the biggest knockers or not). We're going to be radiating energy and entertainment all over your faces! Wow, am I thinking highly of us? I don't mean to. I just want to pump people up for SCOTS. Break in your dancing shoes, if you will.

By the way, if you missed Los Straitjackets...your loss. Rockin' great!

And for a tidy sum up, the rest of my life has been work, boyfriend, bar, Pussyfoot. All good things. Makes my life all neat and oraganized. Right now I feel a little ill but I'm trying to ignore it and push through. It's hard when it feels like someone is twisting a knife in my guts. Some of you might find that attractice...the thought of me in pain with the potential for some juicy, Jell-o-y gore. You should have seen the gore caused by my finger meeting the hungry teeth of the tape dispenser. Sounds non-critical but MAN...blood EVERYWHERE. Made the work day more special.

VIVA!

Flossy! Flossy!

My life is so fun right now. It's like riding the Haunted Mansion ride at Disney World with a boy you like...and you're drunk...and They Might Be Giants or some other really awesome music is playing and you're SINGING...loudly. And probably holding hands. And there's also ice cream, probably, and it doesn't make you tubby. That's how fun my life is right now. Mega fun. Mondo fun. Carol said she's trashing all of her New Year's Resolutions and replacing it with one...be happy. I think she's rubbing her resolution off on me. And not in a dirty way, perverts!

And please don't think I'm bragging. I'm just usually wearing my a black hat with a veil and carrying dead flowers while my rain cloud follows me. Melancholy. It still shows up from time to time but that's better than all the time. I'm sure you smell what I'm steppin' in. And I'm also sure my nearest and queerest would much rather roll with me while I'm laughing and smiling and acting silly. No one likes a wet blanket, believe me. I slept under one on New Year's Eve WHILE I had P-monia!

Reasons why my frown turned upside down:

1. Carol The Shoe: I've been spending a lot of time with Carol recently and that ROCKS! She's good to talk trash with and she's a great listener and she doesn't think I have to be happy all the time. We've been doing a lot of work for the PFG together which leads me to my second reason for being slathered in joy.

2. The Pussyfoot Girls: We're REALLY getting it together. We have 5 or 6 shows lined up and some of them are pretty amazing. We've been working harder, getting better, investing more time in the whole thing. We have merchandise on the way and are improving the website and My Space page. Things are looking pretty damn good for us. I'm glad we didn't quit and I'm glad we didn't settle for how we were.

3. Boyfriend: We have a list a mile long of things we want to do this summer. He's been more supportive and more...nice...as of late. I think once the toxic tooth came out, it made all the difference. I was a great nurse. Maybe it finally clicked that I'm not his enemy. I'd much rather eat ice-cream, go bowling, cook out, and goof off than argue any way. He's my Puffin and he digs me. We had a pretty bas-ass weekend that included family stuff, having guests over (I love BBQ and fires and I REALLY love watching the race OUTSIDE), and a Sunday date: dinner and Grindhouse...AGAIN! Weeeeeeeee!

4. Heavy Rebel and tight pants: Heavy Rebel is 74 days away and I'm finally starting to get excited. I'm leaving a day earlier than usual and heading down with The Shoes and Rocko in the Gray Ghost. Driving to North Carolina in a van with these 3? A dream come true. We're sharing a suite and planning to rock the Hell out. And I bought a pair of tight pants just for the occasion. The weight is melting off and I figure, I'll be old one day. I better wear small bikinis and tight pants while I can. And I CAN at Heavy Rebel. Plus...I like getting drunk with my friends, taking pictures of them, dancing, singing, swimming, running amuck. Good bands, great friends, 74 days!

I'm a happy clam with a happy clam. And breakfast is waiting.

VIVA!

I never had a thing to prove til there was you.

Have an incredible weekend? Check!

I just realized that I saw T-n-C Dynamite 3 times this weekend! WHOA!

Friday I had a date to go to Dave and Buster's and there were shots involved...woo wee! Then Bill and I hit Phoebe's art show at Visible Voice books. He bought art. I didn't and I should have bcause now the piece I want is GONE! But the book store (and the Phoebe) was pretty bad ass and I'm going back next week to load up on new reading material...possibly a book with "poopy" in the title. Tom and Carol were there and the book store supplied PBR and brie cheese. Fantastic. We felt like real trendy scenesters being at an art show in a bookstore with brie cheese...until I couldn't figure out how to flush the toilet.

Saturday there were sleeping pills...and sleeping...and dinner with T-n-C and Johnny Switchblade. There would have been a trip to the movies to see "Grindhouse" but we suddenly all got very old and ended up going home and putting on pajamas. And some of us watched Degrassi: The Next Generation season 4. I really wanted to see "Grindhouse".

SO I DID! ON SUNDAY! With T-n-C and Johnny Switchblade. It was like Saturday part 2. Version 2. Take 2. I don't care if it's trendy to say so, but Grindhouse was the best movie I've ever seen to date. My heart was still pounding full-throttle when it was over. Even my hatred for Rose McGowan was stomped after I saw this movie!!! And Marley Shelton?? SWOON! It had EVERYTHING a good movie should have: trash, kitsch, blood, guts, gore, MONDO GORE, terribly fake guts, terribly fake trailers (Werewolf Women of the SS!), humor, drama, intensity, chicks, nudity, terror, sex, MISSING REELS, the world's best soundtrack AND cast...A-MAZ-ING! I don't care how stupid it is, I'm going to see it again. Hopefully with Carol...again. And hopefully hopped up on cocktails because that is the only thing that could make this movie more unbelieveably bad-ass. You could almost say it was rad-ass. Certainly k-rad.

It was a wonderful weekend which, and I don't want to jinx myself, has thus far been followed up by a loverly week. Puff and I cooked dinner together and raped the television. Yesterday we had the unusual pleasure of spending a Tuesday together so we went out for cocktails with some work folks. I somehow conned him into seeing "Grindhouse" this weekend...WEE! I think the conning was actually me offering to pay for the outting. And I'm down with that. He needs some culture.

And I need to work.

Look for danger. Wind up nowhere.

Have a spooktacular and terrifying Friday the 13th everyone! Spill some blood on the streets. Let the rivers run red. Have a heaping helping of gelatinous brains. Murder a girl taking a shower in the dark. Find some unsuspecting kids getting in on in a cabin and/or tent. Or just eat some ice-cream drenched in fake blood as practice for becoming the next Canadian Dracula.

For some reason, the first thing that popped in my head regarding the date had nothing to do with a deformed man in a hockey mask and a summer camp filled with fashion challenged, horny teens. Initially, I thought about cocktails. Then I thought about how Oliver Peck is obsessed with the number 13 so every Friday the 13th, Kat von D gets a 13 tattooed on her somewhere. Not that I'm in to Kat von D as much as I'm into the date but she has one on her earlobe and I think it's adorable. And I mean adorable. It's cute. Happy Friday the 13th Oliver and Kat.

To keep with the theme, let's talk about blood-n-gore. Bill's face swelled up like Sloth from "The Goonies" due to an abscessed tooth. He was in unbelieveable amounts of pain so I had to play nurse. I also got to see a cereal bowl full of blood on the bedroom floor which doesn't happen every day. I only looked at the bowl for a split second but it was long enough to see bloody strings of infection swimming around in it. Delicious!

So the abscessed tooth has gone to tooth Heaven (and if you know me, you know teeth out of the mouth TERRIFY ME), the swelling has gone down, and the agony he suffered is subsiding. I've truly never seen anyone in so much pain...especially such a tuff guy! So respect your teeth or they'll come back to bite you in the face! There's a horror movie right there...disrespected teeth attack a small and toothless town without flouride. I'm all a quiver!

Well the boy's not right in the head.

Happy Birthday, Hef! Who loves ya, baby?

I officially hate Easter along with every other holiday that I previously hated. I don't care if it's the day Jesus cracked out of his Easter egg and was born. I'm over it. But I'm all about the Jigsaw and seeing Miss Firecracker live. A-maz-ing. Mind-blowing. Vagina-shaking.

I did get an Easter basket which was a little bit of a stunner. And it was beautiful. It had 4 stuffed multi-colored bunny Peeps, Goobers, Snow Caps, an M&M egg, a Tony Stewart air freshener, a Jamie McMurray car, a new skeleton key (R.I.P. old one...sniff sniff), a Miller Lite t-shirt and hat. It's fun to get an Easter basket. It was a treat.

I thought I'd have a lot more to ramble on about today but no. The Jigsaw was an amazing time, Saturday was low key and involved a lot of sleeping, and Easter welcomed me with a flat tire and a boyfriend with a bad attitude. But I'm looking forward. Today is pay day so some bills can get paid, it's Hef's birthday so I can eat cake if I want to, and The Pussyfoot Girls are rocking the Beachland next month with Southern Culture On the Skids.

Life isn't too bad while at the same time rotting hardcore. Go figure.

I know what comfort you are.

I smell like a Hall's. I'd almost rather smell like a foot. Or the foot or a skunk. I'm a big fan of the metholyptussy smell of a Hall's but my throat feels like I've been washing down razor blades with high-proof Vodka. Things have been so dandy recently that it would just figure that an illness is headed in my direction. I'm trying to think positive and work all the preventative measures but all I can think about is the bed I just crawled out of and the Chinese chicken soup with extra, extra noodles that I slurped down last night. I'm really not a good sick-o.

Outside of the sore, stiff, icky, sneezey...I had a gnarly past few days. My Friday get-together was more than I could have imagined since an impromptu improv sing along busted out! Miss Firecracker even sang a few ditties. The food was great, the company was better, and the beer was a-flowin'. I slept in and I slept well, even if I did sleep alone (it happens when boyfriends have the sick-os).

Some might say I wasted my Saturday but I say I embraced it like a gay man does a fur coat. I slept in, I ate lunch, I raped the DVR and the Netflix, I slept some more, I had dinner, I got a package from secondspin.com with 7 movies in it (I wish Meg-Dog and I still talked to I could say "Todd Sparrow" and someone would care), I vegged, I robotted-it-up, I slept some more. It was pretty much exactly what I needed. I didn't leave the house! I didn't shower! I didn't even poop! Rock!

Sunday was a full on adventure. It was one of the best Sundays I've had since Becky lost her marbles and moved to C-Bus. I played Easter Bunny and dropped off some baskets for Bill's kiddies. Sure, I may have been move Playboy Bunny that fluffy bunny but they got candy and toys so...rock, right? Then I had brunch with mi familia because my mommy recently turned 6-0! She had a good time and that's what mattered. I had a goat cheese and asparagus omlette, and that was pretty important, too. After a brief visit to my castle, I met the Shoe-Lanes and Switchblade for tomato basil soup and "Blades of Glory". SNOWFLAKE! Fantastic. I headed over to Bill's where we had a few cocktails, watched the tube, and mussed the sheets. *blush*

And even though I got zero to no sleep and was dragging all day at the place that employs me, Monday was pretty swell, too. And Mondays are usually the equivalent of getting vaccinated (maybe that doesn't sound bad but I HATE vaccinations...weep) or having digestive issues in public. It consisted of television, Chinese chow, and lots of laughing. Good times!

But now I smell like a Hall's. Wah.

And that's what everyone's talkin' about!

I am hosting a small and sensual get together tonight and I'm not sure whether I'm more pumped about that or about the fact that I'm eating cottage cheese mixed with blueberry pie filling! That was a long and pointless sentence but I'm really excited about my low calorie, high taste breakfast. My taste buds are all riled up. Regardless...

My event tonight started out as a game night because I wasn't really fulfilling my game night requirement on my resolution list. But now it's developed into a good, ol' fashioned beer drinking fiesta. It won't be much of a fiesta without Air Supply but Sugar banned them for some reason. She just hasn't been properly exposed. And it's not like I'm also busting out the vinyl Air Supply at every gathering. Just when I'm setting a mood. But I forgive you Sugar for forbidding them. You're still every woman in the world to me.

My fella isn't coming tonight which is disappointing. I suppose I could force him to attend, ear ache and all, but...meh. I'll just have to have enough fun for the both of us. But I won't eat enough mozzarella sticks for the both of us. That could be both dangerous and disgusting.

What am I rocking on 2007 Resolution List thus far???

3. Call Bill on his bullshit - maybe this affects my "let the little things go" resolution but it's just something I have to do. Maybe I sound like a nag but...meh.

4. Treat others the way I expect to be treated - I've mended some fences...tried to be there for people as much as I can. Trying to be a better pal.

11. Bust my hump at my job proving that I'm worth more money - I got a raise so this one is officially checked off!!!

13. Spend more time with my friends - tonight...duh.

18. Do some home improvements and keep the joint clean - I painted my kitchen sun shiney yellow, the carpet on the stairs has been ripped up, the cats got new litter boxes, and my closet gave up 4 bags full of garbage...I can see the floor of it again!

19. Avoid drama - word.

20. Continue to NOT jog/run and continue to HATE joggers/runners - word, squared.

21. Go to the movie theater more - we saw "Wild Hogs" and I'm hoping to go see "Blades of Glory" tomorrow.

24. Totally rape Netflix for all it's worth - I currently have "Happy Feet", "The Holiday", and "Turistas" PLUS I upped my account back to 5 movies at a time. It's my guilty pelasure!

26. Have a super mega fun Vegas vacation - DONE! Another one checked off!

29. Keep the high five alive - I high-five whenever I get the chance. People hate it but I love it.

31. Buy more books and read them - I just finished "Scar Tissue" by Anthony Kiedis and I'm doubling up on "Running With Scissors" and "King Dork".

Happy 28th Birthday, Johhny! I hope you get a drunk, get a lap dance, get laid, get a tattoo you'll regret, throw up, and a bunch of other things you're supposed to do on your birthday. 28 looks good on you, buddy.

The fella and I are having a hermit weekend because moths are flying out of our wallets. And the moths are broke, too. We have multiple options of things we could be doing if the well hadn't run dry: going to C-Bus for a visit, hitting the 9th Annual Rockabilly Freakshow, going to Howl at the Moon (which was a sing-along good time and would be better if all the fratties has been wiped out of the crowd population), hanging with Johnny Birthday Boy at a free show. But it looks like Hermitsville for us.

Though Hermitsville started out as Dullsville when Puff fell asleep at 6:00 and I got a serious case of flipper finger. His remote has never felt so molested as I really caressed it's up and down channel button. But I can't even really remember anything I watched. Nothing sank in. It was all flip, flip, flip, flip. It didn't really kick Hermit Weekend off right but at least I got boatloads of sleep. I'm up and at 'em bright and shiney...working...and I'm only about 15% tired and aggitated. The cleaning broads are here and all I smell is Pinesol. It's irritating. My percentage of rage may be increasing.

Maybe we'll venture out into the daylight. Soak in some of this unpredictable Ohio weather. Who knows? We could just as well stay in our bed, watching movies, eating junk, and poking each other every now and then to make sure we're still alive. Poke, poke, poke.

With a taste of a poison paradise.

Despite my ruffled appearance and blah attitude, I'm not an auto-blogography slacker. Really and truly. I'm just a busy scumbag! I have all these thrilling, rivetting, panty-drenching posts just stacking up like flapjacks but I never get a chance to edit them, spell check them, post them, and relish them. If I'm not at work, I'm sleeping (you like to drink or cook or listen to tunes, I like to veg). And if I'm not at work or sleeping, I'm trying to have a meaningful relationship...blather. And if I'm not doing any of that garbage, I'm trying to see if I can drink my weight in beer and dance my pants right off. It's all a tricky process. I have a method. You've probably all abandoned me but I can live with that. You'll come back. You're like migrating birds.

I had a vacation and you'll hear about it. You can't even avoid it.

After work/bar/bad pizza yesterday, I crawled under a blanket on my bed, powered up the good ol' immitation Tivo, ripped open a box of Goobers and thought, "Life's pretty good right now at this very moment". I was comfortable and content and not stressing about anything inparticular. I think I could have slept for a century after that realization but I had to make the Cleveland to Garfield commute. It was worth it as I begrudgingly hosed off the filth of the day, created some new and improved filth with Puffin, and slept a solid 6 hours drafting. Life really is good right now. Do ya feel me?

Last night I went to Puffin's with the intention of not being a girlfriend anymore. He knows that. I told him. There was screaming and yelling and just all around rage. But then he made me a grilled cheese sandwich. I consider it the Grilled Cheese of Peace. Now it is SO back on. I'm a cheese whore. It's my weakness. And I love that fool. I also appreciate that he can't change over night but promised he'd try to make all the necessary changes in order to NOT be a jerkoff and treat me better cause I'm a catch. I could have let go but I didn't. I just have too much fun. It outweights the icky nasties. Life isn't perfect.

But it was a damn good sandwich.

Bill's really trying to make things up to me but I feel very...whatever. I feel very cold and robotic. I don't know what this means (I usually think robots are k-rad but not in this sitch) but it can't mean anything good. But I can't really care about it right now. I wish I cared but I just don't. I'm tired of doing all the caring, all the making up, all the patching. This is not good.

It's my one year anniversary with Puffin today and we're not even in the same place at the same time. If blood could actually boil...if it was physically possible for blood to boil and a person to remain walking and talking and flipping out...then my blood would be all a'boil right at this very second. A one year anniversary is something you get excited about and pat yourself on the back for because it means for all those days, you did not successfully kill each other and you MIGHT have even had a good time. It's my one year anniversary and I'm filled with venom. My luck.

I don't want to go into all the gorey details because you're probably sick of all of ick and ooze and gore fille dup your ear holes, but let me just say this...it's alcohol or me. Simple as that.

Let me also say THIS...when you wait for months for a particular event (a.k.a. The Pussyfoot Girls with Cult of the Psychic Fetus) and you make it very clear to someone (your boyfriend) that it's a very important evening for you and someone (your boyfriend) finds a way (by getting wasted and making a fool out of themselves AND you) to ruin it for you (fuck, fuck, fuck), you're going to just snap (and consider finally throwing in the towel).

That's all I'm going to say about THAT!

Now I will say that it's St. Patrick's Day and I am wearing my "Everyone Loves An Irish Girl" t-shirt. Any physical nastiness spawning from last night's outting has disappeared and I'm gearing up to hit a restaurant with The Shoes. Having a cocktail will probably be a bad idea but I'm going to have one anyway. Maybe I'll have ten. I'm leaving it up in the air because I'm currently in one of those "I dont' give a rat's ass" moods.

But I do give a rat's ass about fueling up with The Shoes...so I'm out.

Weeeeeeeeee're back!

I'm not thrilled to be back at work...not because I'm not into my job but because I was just in V-v-v-vegas and I'm returned to piles and piles and mountains of papers and I feel like their mocking me because they know how much I have to do to catch up. But I have to blather about my vay-cay before I statrt confusing what happened on my vacation and what happebed int he blockbuster film "Ocean's 11".

We had an uneventful flight featuring the film "Casino Royale" and a fairly tasty chicken patty. Getting the luggage (I'm glad mine was hot pink) and the rental car was an adventure but then we were off! And let me just say, God bless valet parking! Our hotel was, ya know, our hotel. You barely spend any time there so why shell out extra dough? That was my initial thought process but I can honestly say that was probably my last say at Excalibur. I'm ready to upgrade. I couldn't believe we were there...and staying on the 13th floor, nonetheless. We did a little walking, got buzzed, and had the best Pizza Hut I've ever had. Viva!

On Sunday, we hit a buffet (best mashed potatos EVER are at teh Excalibut Roundtable Buffet...mark those words, bitches), and it was off to the race! Sure, when we got to the gates we discovered that Las Vegas Speedway is one of the ONLY tracks to not allow coolers so there went $20 of beer down the drain. Our seats were a-maz-ing, the race was awesome, but it was hot. Burning hot with no protection from good, ol' sunny. I forgot to screen up (stupid Irish jackass) and the entire right side of my face and neck sizzled along with both arms, my chest and my knees! Sunburn knees and Vegas don't mingle well. Post race, we chilled, regrouped, hit a few key places, and chowed at the Rainforest Cafe. It was a pleasant day.

This is so the "What I Did On my March Vacation" version. Sorry. Too much happened and no one wants to hear about what went on behind closed doors of the 38 car at M&M World. I'm going light for your own sake. You'll thank me later.

Monday was my favorite day of all and I have 150 pictures to prove it. First, Bill went skydiving. We have a video and it makes his face looks like one of those wrinked dogs. It was on his list of things to do before he died and I'm glad I was there...and that he didn't die. After that, we ate and then we walked the ENTIRE strip! Hit every casino, gambled, drank, went to the wax museum, hung out at Treasure Island, drank, shopped for our pals, took pictures, goofed off, drank, saw lions and tigers and various other Vegas landmarks, and drank. We stumbled back to our room and I passed out. It was typical Vegas.

Our flight Tuesday was in the afternoon so we took full advantage of our rental car after we checked out. We went to the Hooters casino (yes, my boy collects shot glasses from Hooters...we are more opposite that you could imagine) and then to the Palms! I took pictures of the bunny head, teh Playboy store and club, and Hugh Heffner Dr. I bought a tank top and Bill even bought me a Girls Next Door bobble head (it's Bridget...sexy and smart). He also bought me a casino chip from M&M World and an Owl necklace. And probably loads ofother stuff. Regardless of how spoiled I am...we ate lunch at the NASCAR cafe which was LAME but the food was good and the there was horror!

SO MUCH TRAFFIC! We had to refuel the car, drop it off (total nightmare), get shuttled to the airport (nightmare number 2), and all the while, Bill is barking at anyone and anythign he can because not only are we millimeters away from missing our flight but his stomach is trying to escape from his body. It was rotten. We made it with 5 minutes to space. And the flight home was just annoying yet featured "A Night at the Museum" whcih was good and some sort of beef sub which was NOT good. I was glad to be home and seeing Phoebe's smiling face at the baggage claim. And then there was MORE horror!

Stuff was stolen from my luggage. $247 worth of stuff to be exact. Make-up, lotions, products, contacts, burth controll, and on and on and on. Worst of all, the 100 year old skeleton key that Bill gave me for Sweetest Day. Gone. I have a claim filed with TSA so now I just have to wait as we go through the steps. But my key...damn. I cried a lot. Couldn't sleep. Not the best homecoming.

But we wrapped things up yesterday by eating fondue for lunch and seeing "Wild Hogs", my first theater movie of 2007. Bill was extra sweet and comforting. Overall, our vacation was a success with just a few bumps here and there. I came home with $20 in my wallet so life is good. I'm sure there are multitudes of hilarious and terrifying stories from my trip but this is the basic outlines. We flew, we raced, we dove, stripped, we returned, we relaxed, and now we're back.

VIVA LAS VEGAS!

Don't Know When I'll Be Back Again.

No more days to Vegas! We're leaving TODAY!

Oh my flipping fluffy flapjacks! My bags are fully stocked and I'm ready to go! I have my comfy plane clothes laid out, my Ipod ready to rock, my nutty Anthony Kiedis book ready to read, and...oh my GOD, I'm going to Vegas TODAY! With the man I'm a lovin' on! We've been planning this trek since November. It took so much work to get everything to fit in everythign we wanted to do and make it flow nicely together. Even Bill told me how proud he was of all the effort I put in to make things are easy as possible. I have the tickets (we're already checked in), the car reservation, the sky diving reservation, maps to and from everywhere we're headed, the race tickets...anything and everything we could need to make vacation chillaxable. Yeah, I'm going to give myself a pat on the ass. I worked hard. I deserve an ice-cream cone!

I'll miss you all a ton, fo' real. It's sometimes hard to be away and wonder what you're missing (but this is VEGAS...nothing I'm missing compares to free drinks and pirate shows). And I must give major props to Carol High Hair and Phoebe Bean for being our limo drivers to and fro. That's pretty killer or you two sexy bitches to give up portions of your day to cart around vacationers. When I'm not one, I hate vacationers. I'm all jealous of the fun that awaits them. But guess what? This time...FUN AWAITS ME! I wasn't excited yesterday...in fact, I was pretty damn depressed...but now that I have the tickets in my hand, a bag full of skimpy lingerie and brand new flip flops, and a man whose back I have to shave...is it time yet!?!?

See you on Thursday with pictures and battle scars! Hold down the fort!

Girl's Night Out featuring the female employees of the former Shamrock takes place tonight. I went from being a blonde to a red head just for the occasion. Red is better on me. Saucy. I'm getting dolled up cause I never get to really go out on the town. And I dont' even have to be a designated driver cause a limo will be rolling up shortly. I kind of get embarrassed by limos but hey...it's free and you can drink in it!

Our itinerary is pretty scheduled and I like it. I like some structure. I'm the last broad to be picked up and I guarantee all my confidants will be drunk by the time they get here. It's the first time some of them have been to my pad. They can marvel at my new yellow kitchen! So 50s! So cooking friendly and cheerful! Regardless, we're heading to the Powerhouse Pubs for an all-male review. I'm not jazzed about this but whatever. They serve drinks there. Then to the Howl at the Moon Saloon. I've always wanted to go there and I like to sing along so...good times.

I'll keep you posted on any of the various possible hijinx!

HELLO SANDUSKY!

5 little Pussyfoot Girls and our handsome, bald bouncer are piling into the Gray Ghost and high-tailing it to Sandusky for a show tonight. We've never strutted our shtuff in that city before and we don't know what kind of bands we'll be swinging it with. So maybe I'm a little weary. But I'm ready for a teenage rockin' roadtrip with the P-Feet.

Things have sort of calmed down this week. I've got new hours at work and thanks to some wheelin' and dealin', my pay has been upped, much to the dismay of some people. You think that people could set aside their own yuck-o-ness and just be happy for me but nooooo. That would be way to much to ask. Regardless, I'll still share what I've got even if some douches might be routing against me.

What was a I saying about calming down?

So Puffin and I have our sitch back in normal gear. He wont be accompanying us to Sandusky tonight but I'm more than fine with that. It's a good thing that we can separate from time-to-time without crumbling. I know that both he and I have had exs that just didn't have lives of their own. I have a life. He has a life. We can goo them together or we can rock out alone. I always like his company and the goof-ball things we do together, but I'm looking forward to a long night out dancing, drinking, and telling inappropriate jokes with my vagina squad.

1. I don't think I want to go to Vegas anymore.
2. My NASCAR fantasy team was totally SUCK-O!
3. I had a fight before I even had coffee today (I don't drink coffee).

Top 3 reasons why I wish today was flushed down the can.

I'm leaving to go watch the first NASCAR race of the season with William. I'm pretty sure he won't say anything to me about blowing me off for beers. I'm most likely a sucker for going over there at all. But I had a turning point yesterday...I just plain, flat out didn't care that he called me at all (he did...but I didn't care). I just went about my life which is how it should be. You can't do everything for someone of when they treat you like a dead dog in the street, you take it. I'm not taking it anymore. I'm cool with being second to his kids, his job. But I will NOT be second to BEER! No matter how malted the hops and barely are. Mmmmmmmm. Delish!

I don't even want to talk about this rotten situation anymore. It's a joke. I'm sure you're sitting at home thinking it's a joke because I have probably felt that way about your relationship at some point or another. I'm not a nice person but dog gone, I'm trying! Regardless, kill rot blather. I'm done with the topic.

The show last night was a vagina flapping success! That even grossed me out. Moving on. Our new songs were tops and I was especially thrilled with "I'm Shakin'" as an opener and "The Pop-Up Song" because I get to perform lewd and suggestive gestures with a parasol to a sexy song about a toaster!! The ride down was a joke-telling riot but the ride back was painful since I was hella tired and not up for hitting another bar (we left early due to bad weather and bad toilets). But I got nachos (!!!) so all was good. It was nice to kick off my shoes and put my stinky dogs to bed. Sometimes all I need are my pillows and my cats.

And sometimes I use my cats as pillows.

I'm in a fairly suck-o mood which seriously goes hand-in-hand, do-si-do-ing if you will, with my past Valentine's Days. People are selfish. I know. I'm one of them. But probably for the first time ever, I just don't gvie a rat's ass. If people treat you like flies on dog poo, why should you care what the Hell they are doing? I'm not going to care. I'm not going to beg (or wait for) and apology. I'm just going to go out and have a kick-ass time and not wonder what my selfish jerk-off boyfriend is doing. For real...I could sit here and paint a glowing picture of how retarded I am for him 24 hours a day but that would be a big, fat, pig-sized lie. Sometimes he sucks. Today he sucks. I'm just going to shake off his suckiness and you know where I'm going to do that?

CHUCK'S STEAKHOUSE IN AKRON!
(home of the all-day $3.99 steak dinner)
-The Pussyfoot Girls
-The Ally Casters
- The Slack-Jawed Yokels
-The Devilibillies.

Pull those $4 out of your g-string...tall beers, big boobs, loud rock. Live a little.

I got blown off tonight. I may set someone or something on fire.

It's Valentine's Day. I should be full of love but I'm full of disdain. It took me 2 hours to get to work today and this travel happened AFTER I got stuck in the street in front of my house and found that someone stole my shovel! Some serial killer looking dude helped dig me out but I was red-faced and teary and aggravated and I kicked my car and made angry phone calls.

Those phone messages were later broadcast at my work so everyone could see how close to the edge I was...over a shovel. But you would have been riled up, too. I could have wrestled a robotic wolf and won. I would have been blood-covered and terrifying. I've always hated Valentine's Day and this one just iced the cake.

I still have to cook tonight, too. You can't even imagine how much I want to bail on that. But I guess you suck it up to prove your love to someone. Fuck love. And fuck dinner. I pretty much just want to crawl in a hole and hybernate. It's warm in Las Vegas. Or it will be when I get there. I love Ohio with all of my heart and soul but come on...is this a joke?

Eating snowflakes with plastic forks.

It is almost 8:00p and I JUST got home from work. And I pretty much want to cry. And kick mother nature straight in her baby making oven. The weather...God. I am so stressed out abotu all of this snow. Maybe I sound like a wuss-bag, I really don't care. I'm going to pout until my hands stop shaking.

I left worky work almost 4 hours ago! I didn't even try the highway because what a disaster that would have been. But the side streets weren't any better and I was slipping and sliding all over the damn place. AND my gas light was on the whole time. For almost 4 hours! I thought for sure we were going to have a major situation and that I'd be found frozen. Did I mention that I drove without the heat on because of the gas situation? Dumb ass.

I can't even really explain to you how bad it was. I'm just too upset. It was classic Cleveland times ten. I'm pretty sure I'll have to cancel all of my routes tomorrow which will be a mega disaster. I hate yelly customers. But I'd rather have them then dead crews. God, I hate winter. Almost as much as I hate Cameron Diaz. I'm over this. I need to go rape my DVR.

And I haven't even shopped for V-Day dinner yet! BLECH!

You need to know I love you so.

I'm cooking dinner for Bill on Valentine's Day. I was been knee-deep in Rachael Ray all of yesterday. That sounds so dirty...you can take it either way you want. Regardless, I'll be calling on her 30 minute powers to make sure I don't screw anything up or poison anyone. I know it won't turn out as well as I'm imagining in my head. It's the thought that counts, I guess. And would poisoning a guy who has been a real jack-ass recently be such a bad thing? Hmmmmm.

*Disclaimer: I am NOT poisoning Bill. Do NOT call the police.*

So we all went out. All of us. Even my boyfrined, Suck-O. I felt very awkard with him but very kick-ass with everyone else. I should have just let the fight go on. I shouldn't have called and demanded an apology because it's easy to apologize over the phone. And I'm not a dummy. He never means it. He just wants to put a band-aid on things so he doesn't have to hear a nag. Whatever. I had fun with everyone else...the people that made effort. I drank a daquiri out of a Buddah, ate great Japanese food (go to Benihana NOW...it's remodled and BEAUTIFUL...even had some yummy Sushi that tasted like cereal for their sushi bar), bar bowled, accosted a DJ and realized that my friends are cool and I'm lucky to have them. If I didn't have Suck-O, I'd still be more than OK. They've proved this int he past.

But I have to head back over there for what I predict is a long night of ignoring each other.

It’s such a shame for us to part

As of last night, I have no boyfriend and no job. I'm 28 and awesome.

The Cliff's Notes version will just say that after a bar outting (I was sober, mind you), there was a verbal fight (and I was pretty silent, mind you) that ended with my emptying my drawers at Bill's house, backing up all of my belongings (he can have my toothbrush and shampoo for all I care) and proceeding to drive home. But WHY just drive home when you can drive home AND simultanously put notice in at your job? I'm a multi-tasker.

Then you go home all frustrated and amped and sweaty where only Pepsi and Futurama can save you and the phone calls begin. All night long. Drunk dials where one minute, a person is sweet and the next, they are in total alcoholic mode and their sister is calling you an asshole. I'm an asshole!? you don't even know what BAR YOU WERE IN OR WHAT CITY, LADY!?!? That's when the "I'm too good for this kind of psycho shit" attitude kicks in and you stop answering the phone.

Pretty awesome that a fight gets picked with me the day before all of my best friends are getting together to celebrate my birthday. I mean, seriously, I can't think of a better time for this to happen. I wish I had planned this disaster myself. And I'll go out and have fun without the bastard but I have this sneaking suspicion that it will be all my fault or that I'll have to patch things up. Why do I not see Vegas in my future? Why do I not see a future in my future? Fuck 'em.

By policy of our new owners, your birthday is now a paid holiday, as it always should have been in my opinion. After all, I'm a birthday whore. I jumped right on that puppy and took yesterday off with plans to get my divorce decree, change my name and address on my license, get my cell phone fixed, work on a Pussyfoot song, and fit in some well deserved napping. Heaven.

Well, it was a NIGHTMARE of a day off! Pure waste of 8 hours. The phone never stopped ringing with work related questions (as I have ZERO back-up at work, I'd like to see what they do if I break my neck) and I never got anything done! Not a THING that I wanted to which is depressing. And hella frustrating. I didn't sleep so well the night of my birthday so yesterday I was pretty much a pathetic version of an actual zombie of the sleeping variety. Suck, suck, suck. And my grouchiness for yesterday has carried over to today's work day. I'm a force to be reckoned with. I see cocktails in my future.

Can you say "best birthday EVER"? I totally can and totally will.

I really and truly am a lucky girl. Due to this fact, one would wonder why I boo-hoo and crab so much. Enjoy this. I'm taking a rare oppotunity to count my blessings. I had a lovely birthday. Lovely is the best word to describe it, I think, and I rarely use that word.I was overcome by text messages, phone calls, e-mails, My Space comments from the nuts who love, or at least tolerate, me. It was a nice ego boost for the day.

For the first time in my life, I had flowers delivered to me at work and my fella was as excited for me to get them as I was to have them. Beautiful, hands down.My VP took me to lunch at the white trash Golden Corral where I stuffed myself full of mashed potatos (not a diet friendly lunch). I had corn and fruit punch and ice-cream and took an hour lunch, which I dont' do...because I COULD!My office gal pals took me to the local dive for beer and my money was no good there that day! Which is just the way I like my money to be!

And while all of this was going down, my superboy was cooking me dinner...porkchops, potatos, veggies, bread, and even a cake with pink icing!My presents were beyond bizarre...a baseball mit and baseballs, a DVD of a movie both Bill and I hated, some stuff for my workout regime, a rubber ducky that grows 300x it's size, and some gourmet chocolate covered strawberries. Weird combo but rad thoughts.

And now, this weekend, the Queen B is coming from C-Bus and we're all going to do it up right! I can barely hold my bladder contents in due to all the anticipation. This birthday has been really incredible and it's one that won't end for at least another week or so. Just the way I like things...about me me me! THANKS Y'ALL! LOVE YOU TO DEATH! DEATH, I SAY!

It's my mother-truckin' birthday! I'm 28!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ahhhhhh!!!!!

Bill gave me a check for $1,000.00 today. I was like the road runner with a puff of smoke trailing behind me as I high-tailed it to the bank to deposit. It was a Las Vegas funds check which makes us one step closer to walking hand in hand down the strip. I've been experiencing so much anxiety over booking this trip because flights and hotels are filling up due to the race. This race is a BIG deal...it pretty much proves who will be the top dogs of the season. Regardless, once I have my tickets in my hand...I'll be a happy clam and my shoulder tension will disappear, helping solidify not having a hump back in my old age.

Speaking of old age, we have to go to a funeral tonight. Creeps. It was someone I didn't even know but Bill asked me to accompany him. I felt like saying , "We're not going to the movies...you don't need a date". But I'm a girlfriend and that's what we do. We get dressed up and hold hands with our boyfriends while they stare at dead bodies. Yikes. I'm not very good at funerals...I usually tend to smile too much or giggle. I'm totally inappropriate. I'll be honest, I've been thinking of ways to get out of it but that would just make me pathetic. He needs me...I'm there. How could I say no to a guy who just gave me a $1000 check!

But death travels in threes. My grandpa...Mark's dad...who's next!?

Yesterday was NOT a day to leave my hive but I DID in order to get new glasses and, dun dun dun...CONTACTS! I look crrrraaaaazy! Like a psycho version of my former self. I sleep with my glasses on so to NOT have them on and see myself CLEARLY without them on, well, it's a lot to handle. I feel like I'm missing a limb. But it's freeing. Not that missing a limb would be freeing...in fact, it would be cause for my suicide. I won't be blinded during any Pussyfoot shows. Once I shook my head and glasses went whizzing off my mug and right under the drums! But I couldn't SEE THEM. Dennis came to my rescue. What a man. Ramble mode off: I'll try and get some pictures of my new specs and specless face up here as fast as I can. Maybe I'll even put up a snapshot of my new Vegas vacation aviators! Weeeeeee! The many eye-coverings of ME!

The Colts won the Super Bowl while I won Ms. Pac-Man. We rule

Oh what a birthday surprise!

I went to Carol's Over the Hill-billy Birthday last night and it was a screaming, white trashy success! So many people love Carol to death and I'm one of them. She should be cloned in a miniature version so I can have a Carol that lives at my house...like a kitten. But instead of mewing, she would say hilarious things and sing witty songs. Delightful.

I wasn't in my ultimate party mode which makes me feel like I failed her since I KNOW she'll rock the effin' eff out of my brithday this weekend. I TRIED, believe you me! I had a rough morning at work with the dumb, frozen, popsicle trucks. And then when I tried to take the world's longest cat nap to recoop, well, it just wasn't happening. So I was a sleepy kid. But I slapped on my cowboy shirt, tied up those pigtails, and mosied (possible spelling disaster there) on over the the shin-dig where I had 3 hours of rockin' fun.

Highlights: Rocko was there, Phoebe was there, Carol's one woman band (Miss Firecracker) was AMAZING and sang a song called "Beer-n-Bacon", Uncle Scratch put on there very best basement show which encorporated every maracca-esque instrument in the room and everybody shakin' their shtuff, the lime jello shots were divine, and though I missed Carolaoke (featuring Johnny singing "Every Rose Has It's Thorn"), I know Carol had a great birthday because she was allll smiles. I'm glad I could be a part of it.

Gotta do what's gotta be done. I'm liquored up!

Note to self: do not drink your weight in beer and shots the night before you have to get up at 5:00a for work. This can only lead to bad things including cookie-tossing and head hula hoops. And you'll kick youself square in the arse for being so foolish when 3 out of 5 of your work trucks won't start because it's 7 degrees outside and there's nothing you can do about it because what the HELL do you know about moving trucks? Squat, that's what. I should have been home and back in bed HOURS ago but God is punishing me. Most other religions would say he's not a punishing God but I'm Catholic for crying out loud. It's all about guilt. Why am I even typing this? I've got Advil PMs with my name on them. Gots to recover so I can start all over again at Carol's shin-diggity tonight. Temporary coma, here I come!

Stupid trucks.

I was happier then with no mind-set.

I left work early yesterday because I just HAD to know if my rib was broken. It is. I couldn't understand the doctor so I'm not sure if she said my third or my tenth rib. It's pretty low and around the curve of my body so I'm guessing tenth. It's not important but it sure smarts, as it has been for the past week or two. They gave me a rib brace and a prescription and sent me on my way, advising me to ice it when I can and take Aleve when I'm not taking the Vicodin. Nothing more I can do. Stupid p-monia is wrecking me.

After I left the clinic, I called my mommy to give her the 4-1-1. She had some 4-1-1 for me. My grandpa died. I hadn't see him in while and maybe I actually didn't know him very well. But I feel rotten. And I know my mom is sad which makes me feel even worse. No one wants their mom to be in pain and I didn't have a good way of telling her I was sorry when her mother died. I'm trying to do better this time around. Not much I can do when the funeral's in Florida. Heaven's Waiting Room, or so they say.

So yesterday was pretty much a rotten day. The Pussyfoot Girls cheered me up by being their silly selves and embracing my PFG name change to Patty Cake. I don't want to be sour anymore. I want to be adorable and adored. I don't know how that will work out but I do know this: my friends and my fella have been their for me with this whole rib and grandpa thing. I appreicate it, everyone. Please know that.

They've finally taken shape for us.

I pretty much thought the last time Bill and I drank together would be the last time. As of late, when we drink, we rumble. Claws come out. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. For being a couple that loves the malted hops and barely, we're not very good drinkers. Well, we decided to give cocktailing another go because I was mopey and he was...Bill...so off we went. And it was a grrrrreat evening! Tony the Tiger approved!

After several beers at a local Garfield dive, we decided to go stuff our faces at Ruby Tuesday's. Little did we know that it was opening night! And little did we know that we were buzzed like little bees! What a bunch of goof-offs we were. The beer kept coming and the food was delish! They even have my fav tomato-mozzarella salad on the menu with the itty bitty tiny cheese! I made Bill eat one (he's not a cheese fanatic) to prove he loved me. He did. I'm a jerk-off.

Regardless, we had a great night, enjoyed each others company, and acted like total carefree goobers. I hope that whole feeling carries over to our vacation. I envision us walking down the strip with our giant skull glasses from Treasure Island, taking ridiculous pictures and holding hands like we're a couple of high school kids. Nothing feels better than a good evening after a sucky one. It's fun to make up. And after dragging our silly asses home we watched Ilan win Top Chef! LIFE IS GOOD!

Tell me that you'll wait for me.

So this day started out relatively suck-o stemming from an evening of ultimate suckiness. I hate phone fights but they happen and you deal with it. I dealt with it by taking Advil PMs last night and then crying at work this morning. Some people just don't think before they speak or place blame. I, myself, am trying to not have Foot-In-Mouth Disease as part of my "treat others how I want to be treated" resolution. Maybe I'm just being overly sensitive. I'll blame it all on my period.

But the whole emo day turned right into a whirlwind of utter thrills! I found a Vegas package that will allow us to stay an extra night for LESS than we were paying for two nights! Weeee! Now I don't have to sweat missing out on all the typical Vegas fun the strip has to offer. There's no doubt we'll hit the wax museum, M&M World, the pirate show, the MGM lions, and everything in between. All this excitement...it's a great feeling. I can't wait for the shenanigans to begin! And I hope they begin with the bottomless cup at Blondie's!!!

She might just want my bones, you see.

After a semi-busy day slaving in the coal mine, I headed out with 2 pals to Spa Night at my favorite restaurant, The Melting Pot! Luckily, on Spa Night, everything is scaled down a bit so a fondue dinner fit into my diet plan. I didn't have the option of taking a swim in the Gorgonzola Port. While my supposedly peach margarita was too strong (I took one breath and burned our waiter's eyebrows off), the cheese was ooey, gooey liquid Heaven!

And as an added bonus, we got free arm and hand massages (hand massages, as some of you may know, throws an orgasmic sensation my way...which could have proved awkward in a room full of strangers), parfin dips which made my hands feel like velvet, and garlic-wine seasoning that Phoebe used to shove in her purse post-meal. And while I didn't get to rub my velvet hands on a big, hairy man (sensing he needed some space, I happily slept in my own bed after rockin' the Pilates, yo), it was still a lovely evening.

Any lovely evening does not guarantee an equally lovely day. While things seemed to be going along swimmingly as I gleamed the cubicle, the Puffin in my life made a joke (so he says...I'm not going into details) that was just a big OUCH! I could have just ignored the whole thing but it stung. And it just brought to the top of my head a lot of things that have stung in the past. I'm expected to be a certain way, strong and tough...not depressed, not emotional, but I'm not a robot. Though a gal can dream!

So the ride home was a lot of Phil Collins, Morrissey and crying.

You can only hold things in for so long? You shouldn't have to hurt.

On the flip side, I successfully completed the second day of my bikini plan. Embracing the no bread, minimal sweets, Fast Food ban aspects of my chow time. I was picked on a little as everyone stuffed Taco Bell down their holes at work. But after 40 days of sacrifice when I'm lounging pool side, slugging down Daquiris, and smooching on my man with no worries about if I look foolish, those tacos won't mean shit to me!

Can't seem to get my mind off of you.

Bill and I are going on our first official vay-cay together and we're flying the friendly skies to my happy place, Las Vegas! He hasn't been on vacation in 4 years and he's NEVER been there so I can only imagine the sort of trouble and chaos we're going to encounter in just 40 short days! And the whole trip is jam-packed with things we have to accomplish outside of the assumed gambling, drinking, swimming, and sight-seeing. We have to get tattooed (me), go to the NASCAR race, and sky-dive (him). Throw eating and sleeping in there and we've got pretty much every second of every day acounted for. It's a lot to tackle but I have faith in us. We're hardcore.

But there are a few worries drilling holes into the back of my skull and I need the pressure relieved, a la Saw III, which was better than Saw II, but not as good as the original. But I digress. Will we get everything done that we want to? Will we book a good package in time? Will we have enough funds? Will we have a good time? Will we fight? Will we have horrible hangovers? Will somethign effed up happen during the sky-diving? Will we miss our flight? Will someone be able to cover us at work? And most importantly...

WILL I LOOK HOT IN MY TEENY BIKINI!?!?

Yeah, I bought a REALLY small bikini. Usually I rock a 2 piece with the boy shorts but not this year.This year, I'm going low rise string bikini all the way. But it's so cute. It's one of those "had to have" items. And I got a pretty desireable response from my boyfrined just by holding it in da sto'. I tried it on and while it looked nice, I could stand to shed a few here-n-there to secure that the damn thing fits how it should. There's nothing I hate more than an ill fitting swimsuit on someone. It's not pleasant to look at. It's vulgar.

My bikini is so small, I'm blushing just thinking about it.

Bye bye bread! So long sugar! This is gonna be a LONG 40 days, y'all.

My head explodes and my body aches!

I still have my Christmas tree up. What a piece of trash, I am.

My ribs feel like they are getting ready to bust straight out of my flesh. Like there is a robotic wolf...or wolves...inside just ready to terrorize anything or anyone that stands in their path. But first they've got to break free and it looks like they're taking my ribs with 'em. I know I have a broken rib, if not two. It's making sleeping very difficult cause I tend to rock-n-roll. Breathing isn't exactly a walk in the park with a flask full of whiskey either. But what can a doctor do? Pump me full of narcotics and send me on my way to babble, drool, and run over small children with my car? I'm on my own with this one. Just me and my robotic wolves.

I'm going to be a total hermit this weekend. I need to squirrel my nuts away for Vegas! We can't book our flight and hotel for 10 more days (!!!) which is starting to make me sweat since things seem to be filling up lickity split! I don't want to stay at the Vegas Ecconolodge. I want to stay in a flipping noisy, bright-n-flashy, more than I can handle CASINO! Especially since it's Puffin's first time in the city that doesn't sleep (but does drink liquor on the street).

We have so much planned that I can barely keep my brain in my head or my uterus in my lower quad. Gambling, drinking, buffets, drinking, swimming, drinking, racing, drinking, wax museums, drinking, getting tatooed (while sober...gotta be good to my flesh), drinking, sky diving, and drinking! Man oh man, to get my picture with a wax statue of HEF!?!?!

So that's why I'm going to hermit-it-up this weekend. I could go see Lords of the Highway on Saturday and I'm sure it will be a ball-kickin' good time but I have a priority. And my priority is going on vacation to my happy place with my boyfriend. Maybe you think that's just a plain ol' goofy priority but work is taking over his brain, it's stressing me out, and I think it's partners with the robotic wolves.

I'm so burnt out that sleeping has become my weekend activity and that just ain't cuttin' it because I'm still young (until I turn 28 in 11 days) and I should be rocking the HELL OUT until the middle of the night drinking too much, throwing up on the street, waking up with a hangover, and starting all over the next night! Sheesh. I'm not 21 anymore. That whole scenario is just embarrassing. But I do want to have some fun! And I'm going to start having it in LAS VEGAS!

Send text messages and don't forget me while I'm in hiding!

Although miles come between us.

I've got left over Maccaroni Grill in my fridge. I have left over Antonio's as well. I don't have any actual "real" food though and that's sort of depressing. My cats pulled some bad celery out of the garbage and ate it, which is kind of freaky. You would have thought it was a dead rabbit the way the tore it to shreads. It was probably more like a live rabbit though. Three little freaks I'm raising over here.

I just spit yellow phlegm into a piece of legal paper.

I haven't spoken to Puffin in 24 hours and that bugs me. We got into a cat fight this week that actually had me sleeping on the couch and heavy doses of the silent treatment. We were both in the wrong, apologies were made, and I'm pretty sure things were patched up since we had sleep overs for the next two nights (and there was hot-n-heavy hanky panky). But he seems like he has sand in his vagina to me...crabby. And things that were said on Wednesday are still gnawing away at my guts like a bullemic with a box of Ding-Dongs. We're still planning our Vegas vacation so things can't be that rotten. Maybe he just has his period.

I'm going to go make out with my DVR and re-heat a slice.

I think we need to sit down and talk.

I thought I was all ready to park my ass and blather and jabber but I need that marvelous and sexy wonder drug that is caffeine. Once Carol said that if she could give me anything, it would be a never ending supply of fresh Pepsi. Like a giant vat in my back yard that I could swim in. And I would. Because some how the Pepsi would be distilled and my swimming in it would be safe and erotic. Like a modern day Esther Williams. I'm getting turned on by a bevvy. Better get me some! Back in a flash, just like your herpes!

Glug glug glug glug!

Everything outside the window in my cubicle is covered in snow. Bill got out of bed this morning and announced that outside "there's white stuff all over the place". And I can put aside the perverse nature of that statement (only for a moment) to say TRUE DAT! Snow is taking over and it's touching my face and making me BATTY!

And WHO wore canvas sneakers to work today? A total asshole, that's who! And an asshole with p-monia who should dress more weather appropriate. An asshole who thinks she re-broke her rib from coughing to hard refuses to go to the hospital until the date she set (Wednesday...practicing discipline). I'm not naming names but her ass is smaller than it used to be and she looks cute at work today. Even if she has a heating pad stuffed up her shirt that looks like a tumor or shifty pregnancy.

I know I'm a day late (not THAT kind of late) but I had a k-rad weekend. I don't just lable EVERYTHING as k-rad, you know. Somethings are just "cool" or plain vanilla "rad". I started things out by Friday-style chowing Mexican style and partaking in some drama-free bowling (93!). I ended things Friday-style by watching a special on the 10 most dangerous sharks...Lemon Sharks were number 10. Supposedly they kick ass and I believe it. Saturday and Sunday were a mucked-up but vag-shaking combo of movies (funny, scary, and dirty), food (pork, beef, and PIZZA), hanky-panky (XXX), napping (zzzzzzzzz), cocktails (Busch, Miller, Bud), music (Elton John, Phil Collins, Journey), and me saying, "This is the BEST WEEKEND EVER!". And it was. No drama, no fights, no boredom. Just good stuff. Good times. Good times.

Upcoming Events on My Social Calendar:
My Birthday dinner w/ the fam.
Carol's Birthday Par-tay!
My Birthday lunch and bar hop w/pals (and BECKY!).
MY BIRTHDAY!
My birthday PFG show at Chuck's.
V-v-v-v-v-v-vegas, baby!
One year anniversary w/ Puffin.

So far, things are good in 2007. Bill and I even sort of have a joint resolution that we like to call "Seven in Seven". We're going to TRY and go to 7 Nascar races this year. I'm only signed up for 5 as of now but what's 2 more (if HE pays)? I like the idea of securing the whole Nascar season as his girlfriend. I don't have the best track record with relationships so I'm wary. I really like this one. I'm happy here. I want to stay. At least I'm in until Miami!

And I just might be your baby tonight!

Happy Birthday Carol Shoe-Lane!

I'm the worst bowler EVER! But I'm a healthy eater. And a good drinker. And a championship socializer. And a happy kid. So I'm pretty jacked up about scarfing down the cuisine of ye ol' Mexicans and then hittin' the local bowl-a-rama with the my dudes and my honey toooonight!

Don't get me wrong, I like kickin' back and hangin' in my jammies with stacks off movies surrounding me like towers, pausing only for napping, leaking, rehydrating, and fooling around. But it's nice to shower and shave, wear your good hair, and spend an evening with a good crew. I've been a homebody for far too long but tonight, I'm painting the town hot pink and I'm going to laugh any time anyone says balls. <----tee hee.

Come on everybody, gather round.
I'm gonna show you how to knock 'em down.
When I'm on the ball, I'm the number one.
And I'm gonna show you how it's done.

Let's bowl, let's bowl, let's rock-'n-roll.
Hey, come on, let's get this show on the road.
Let's bowl, let's bowl, let's rock-'n-roll.
We're sittin' on a bomb that's about to explode.

We're gonna score tonight, we're gonna score tonight.
If you're lookin' for a fight, then the time is right.
We're gonna wipe the floor with you tonight.
We're gonna score tonight, we're gonna score tonight.
We're gonna rock, we're gonna roll, We're gonna bop, we're gonna bowl.
We're gonna score, score, score, score, score tonight!

Hey Paulette, take a look over here.
I'm your kingpin, honey, and I'm gettin' in gear!
Hey Johnny, Johnny, go bowl that strike.
And I just might be your baby tonight!

Let's bowl, let's bowl, let's rock-'n-roll.
Hey, come on, let's get this show on the road.
Let's bowl, let's bowl, let's rock-'n-roll.
'Cause the stakes are high, and the winner takes all!

We're gonna score tonight, we're gonna score tonight.
Don't get sore when you lose tonight, We're gonna show you how to do it right.
We're gonna score tonight, we're gonna score tonight.
We're gonna rock, we're gonna roll, We're gonna bop, we're gonna bowl.

I'm really goo-goo over you!

Things are so flipping swell right now you would think I was wearing a pair of ultra-stylish vibrating pants! But that just sounds dangerous and "danger" is not my middle name! Let me think of another analogy...things are so damn dandy right now (right at this VERY second) that you would assume someone had served me up a tall stack of dad-style mega-white flapjacks, that all birds had become extinct on the spot, and they brought back "Undeclared" with all new episodes! I'm in a good mood and it's not medication enduced! Not that there's anything wrong with medicating your way to bliss if it's under a doctor's close supervision. And there's fo' sho' nothing wrong with medicating the p-monia out of your whithered and decaying lungs! How's THAT for a transition!? KA-CHOW!

I'm physically repaired. I'm ready for cocktails. Where will I have them?

I will start off my Friday evening with MARGARITAS! Carol is turning 41 and she was so kind as to include me in her birthday celebration. It's not like I would have given her much of a choice. I would have wrapped my tentacles around her or suctioned to her like a sponge until she gave in and let me tag along. But I didn't have to act like a hideous appendage or black plague. I got an o-fficial in-vite! Weeeee! Carol is one of the best things to happen to me in the last few years so I consider it quite the honor to be chowing Mexican food (and many, many, many margaritas) and bowling some balls with such a k-rad lady! Is Mexican food, drinking and bowling a deadly tri-fecta? It's possible. I could probably write an entire thesis on it but why do that when I can stare at myself in the mirror, marvelling at all the weight I've dropped while being on the verge of death. I'm shallow when it comes to a smaller waist and can. Waiste can. Spelling aside, so funny.

Yeah, I'm really fucking giddy and I don't know if that's a good thing or not! I'm so amped about Carol's birthday, upcoming Pussyfoot shows, upcoming themed parties that I don't have to throw, Bill and I going to Vegassssssssssss, our one year anniversary (feel free to toss, and feel free to toss on someone you love)...there's just a lot of good stuff coming up and I'm ready for it. I think making that silly ass resolution list has got me motivated and dare I say...CHIPPER!?!? No one will recognize me without my signature scowl and fat ass. I want to be a happy girlfriend, an involved friend, a productive person. In the words of Kendra: "I just want to be OK".

Life is good. I'm not rubbing it in but when does this happen!?!?!

DON'T BE A HATER!

Word.

Four more years ain't right for me.

***OK...I added some things. Check it out.***

Inspired by the lovely Carol High Hair, I am making a resolution list for 2007. I'm not settling down with just one goal for the year. I'm going to play the resolution field. Carol figures that a good solid list would guarantee that something gets accomplished and that way, I won't feel like a failure! Feeling like a failure is not a good way to tie up a year. So by the end of 2007, I want to feel like somewhat of a success! So here it is...my 2007 resolution list! ENJOY!

P.S. I'm almost not sick anymore. I plan on drinking alot of Friday to celebrate my health. And Carol's BIRTHDAY! Her name sure is in this entry alot...and not just because i know she's going to read it (Carol Carol Carol Carol Carol Carol Carol).

2007 Resolution List (inspired by the ever clever Carol High Hair).
1. Become ambidextrous and then use my left hand most.
2. Re-learn sign language and teach it to Carol to we can have secret conversations.
3. Call Bill on his bullshit.
4. Treat others the way I expect to be treated.
5. Let the little things go.
6. Ride my k-rad bike more...and find people who want to ride with me.
7. Find a workout buddy and take some sort of water aerobics class.
8. Take some sort of class...fencing, swing dancing, quilting. I need a hobby.
9. Start painting again. Hardcore.
10. ROCK OUT!
11. Bust my hump at my job proving that I'm worth more money.
12. Cook everything I've marked in my cookbooks and have dinner parties.
13. Spend more time with my friends.
14. Relax!
15. Get healthier to avoid getting sick so often.
16. Plan some fun roadtrips (Niagara Falls!!!) with fun people.
17. Open a savings account.
18. Do some home improvements and keep the joint clean.
19. Avoid drama.
20. Continue to NOT jog/run and continue to HATE joggers/runners.
21. Go to the movie theater more.
22. Eat more veggies...especially asparagus.
23. Get more involved in helping the Pussyfoot Girls grow!
24. Totally rape Netflix for all it's worth.
25. Buy a pair of cowboy boots and another cowboy hat.
26. Have a super mega fun Vegas vacation!
27. Dress up (make-up, hair, and all) one day at Heavy Rebel.
28. Go to the history and art museums.
29. Keep the high five alive!
30. Play more board games...start a game night!!!
31. Buy more books and read them!

Breathe deep. We need a donor for blood.

Where have I been, you might ask yourself? I've been in a special kind of coma where you're wide awake yet you can't eat, drink, sleep, watch television, listen to music, or anything. You just toss, turn, and stare into space but you're not even bored. You're just alternating between freezing and sweating and basically all you're doing to existing because you're too sick to do anything else. Sometimes, also, there's cookie tossing and that is never fun. And you FINALLY drags your skinny, nasty, weak-ass bag of bones to the Emergency Room and they try to admit you because it's PNEUMONIA...again. When I get sick, I get sick. There's no messin' around.

They took blood and urine (and didn't even give it back...jerks), they gave me liters upon liters of saline solution mixed with anti-biotics (and my body thanks them soooooo much), I had aeresol treaments as my oxygen levels were only at 92%, I had an EKG cause the treatments made my heart go boom too fast, I had several X-Rays and I also had an embarrasing gown that didn't really close in the back. While there, Aunt Flo came to visit which was inopportune to say the very least. Then the bastards tried to admit me! I didn't want to stay overnight for some underlying reason. There were lots and lots of tears which I think actually made me pass out for a little while. Eventually, I left the hospital "against medical advice" and went to Dr. Bill's instead. I ate soup there and actually fell asleep. It's a comfortable place to be...like a womb.

Then there was the New Year's Eve disaster. Oh ugh.

I'm hanging up my party planning crown. There was just far too much drama at this one. Hot damn. Fighting, yelling, throwing up, busted pipes (yes, pipes busted and water was shut off AFTER it was pouring from the ceiling...and then later the bathroom flooded...ugh), utter wierdness, and the absence of some key party people. I was glad to see the people that came but missed the people who didn't. Painfully.

It just boils down to the fact that it's too much work to entertain and costs too much and it's really a gamble on whether or not it will be fun. I know some people had tons of fun and I'm happy for them. I wasn't one of them but that could be because of the pneumonia, too. I'm just going to become a party regular from now on. Let someone else clean before, clean after, spend money, make the plans. I'm tired of it. For my birthday this year, I'm going to go out for dinner and hit a fun bar with people I love...not a house full of strangers. There's less clean-up this way.

I had a really nice midnight moment though. I'm loved and know that I have someone to take care of me, someone who calls me "my sick girl" and rubs of back when I'm having those especially rancid sick moments. Someone who was happy to be with me at midnight and was sorry for not being with me last year. That made everything temporarily all good.

And then I saw poor stroked-out Dick Clark. Ugh.

HAPPY 2007!!! Once the pipes repair (in my kitchen and in my chest), I have some high hopes.

Well girl you know you only hurt yourself.

Someone at work just called me "Creeping Death". True dat.

I am so horribly ill that it's not even remotely humorous. Bill had this a few weeks ago and he turned into the biggest baby on the planet which is unusual for him. Now I know why he was being such a terror. This is probably this worst cold/flu I've ever had and it's kicking the living daylights out of me. I've been reduced to whimpering which is what I do when I'm really feeling the sickness. And supposedly this one never ends. And while I can handle the insane coughing, headache, and muscle aches, I can NOT tolerate the alterations between freezing to death and sweating my ass off. Rot. I've dropped out of Rockabilly Holiday this year as a preventative measure (and I pretty much want to cry my dry, throbbing eyes out over that...even my EYES hurt) and I'm enlisting all the help I can to get ready for the New Year's Eve party. I'll need it, believe me!

Besides the illness, Christmas (with Puffin) was a good time. Bill loved his presents, I loved my presents (even the kids got me something), and I had an all around good time with him. Even when I was in insane amounts of discomfort and temperature meltdown! He brought me wet towels for my forehead and blankets and juiceboxes. He even offered to clean out the bathtub so I could soak my aches and pains. For a change, he was very understanding about me having the sicks...probably because he gave this stupid sickness to me!! But I forgive him. How could I not forgive someone who bought me a clock with the Playboy bunny head on it for my bar? My family holiday was a different story but that was all sickiness related. It's hard to be social when every part of you feels like poo.

If you DON'T want to feel like poo, watch BEERFEST! A-maz-ing!

I'm so glad I waited for this.

There is a toddler child in my office right now. It's making all sorts of toddler child noises which is, of course, making my skin crawl. It's talking like mad while it's mother is trying to have an adult conversation. She's pretty much ignoring it but I am having a much harder time doing so. I'm visualizing her giving it a quick punch and/or kick. Now it's running AND talking. It's insisting it must continue to run and gab but it just doesn't. It must stop before I go and trip it. I'm almost hoping it will make it's way to my cubicle so I can do away with it. Maybe if I tie some delivious and brightly colored candy up with string...then I can lure it over here. In all actuality, it's better off staying far away from me. I'm not in the mood to feign amusement over obnoxious toddler antics. Skin crawling!!!

Going out to chow with the family which is an unexpected treat. And we're going somewhere expensive which always makes the food taste just that much better. Call it food snobbery if you must but you know it's true. I plan on eating something that was once alive but has since been killed in a heinous manor (jack hammer, hack saw, death by "sleepy time" music) and then hung out in it's own natural juices waiting for me. That sounds just about as close to Heaven as I can get today. Swallowing dead animals without stopping to chew. Just like a common thug. I love meat. And I love the phrase "licking my chops".

I had a dream that Bill and I got a bull terrier last night. We lived together in this big house that looked exactly like the Ol' Kentucky Corral on the inside but had this looooooong back yard that had a weird staircase that led to more yard and patios and trees. Bizarre architecture and landscaping haunts my dreams. Anyway...I wanted to take our puppy out in the grass for the first time and wanted Bill to be there but I couldn't find him. Then I found all these people drinking beer on our weird second yard level patio and he was there, all zipped up on a sleeping bag, drinking beer. Pete Yorko's girlfriend, my nephew, and some weird middle eastern chicks we worked with (we don't work with any weird middle eastern girls) were there. The puppy had no name...and no interest in the grass. It was interested in going out of the gate (who leaves a gate open with a new puppy running about???) and sitting in it's water bowl.

I need a bull terrier puppy.

Shake that thing, I'll buy you a diamond ring!

I have ten minutes left of my lunch. Let's see what I can throw at you.

Sorry to burst your pretty pink bubbles but there's not much to report on regarding this weekend. I thought I'd have a boatload to ramble on about (since I have to utilize my lunch house...those freaks at Time Warner still haven't fixed my darn computer box...blather). There were cocktails, movies, sleeping, cooking, cleaning. This are getting mighty perty for the big New Year's Eve prom, I must say! That there bathroom is almost clean enough to eat in without fear of lingering...funk. I probably wouldn't go much further than chowing down on a hot dog with one hand sitting neatly in my lap. And I'm the one who's been slaving away in there! Regardless...I envision a mini-party in the can on the last day of the year. Be there.

Golly. What a bore. So...hello, y'all. And good-bye for now!

We know that Christmas will be green & bright!

You should probably prepare yourself for changing weather conditions because the past 2 days have been so splendid, so fulfilling, so delightful...I feel like I could just puke hearts and rainbows all over you while riding on a unicorn! Anyone familiar with Lipton's Giggle Noodle Soup is probably picturing that being splattered all over innocent bystanders but really...would you prefer that I was projectile tossing blood clots and severed limbs? I think not. Embrace my joy and spread it around like bodily fluids through a high school locker room. I may have even grossed myself out with that one.

Translation for the wordiness challenged: it's all gravy. I'm even excited about X-Mas for the first time in years (and you should wish you were my boyfriend since his gifts KICK ASS...I've always been good at that)! And there's Rockabilly Holiday round 2 for the PFG! Jingle-mutha-truckin'-bells, y'all!

Finally had a slumber party with a semi-sick Puffin after a week apart. A whole week apart doesn't work for me. I'm selfish when it comes to the man I love (and he loves me, too...who knew?!?). It didn't seem to work for him either since he told me how good it was to have me back in the bed. Who doesn't want a coconut-scented girl drafting them during cartoons? That's what I say! My Puffin has been sicky sick and has lost 12 pounds. His head looks small and it was startling. But I'm sure once I hula around the living room in my bacon bikini...hubba hubba. There's been lots of tomfoolery here at work that I base on the fact that adrenaline is flowing and excitement has been shot right up our cans. What am I talking about?!?!

WE'RE VEGAS BOUND, BABY! We're flying the friendly skies to the west coast in March (yes, I know Vegas in March and I don't have such a good track record) and boy-oh-boy are we gonna let the good times roll! We're going to gamble, drink, and attend every buffet possible (after we make it out of the coolest airport on the planet)! I'm going to play one slot machine at every casino on the strip! We're going to the race! AND...Puffin is going to jump out of an airplane! It's on his list of things to do before he dies and I'm helping to make it happen! In his own words...what would he do without me!?!? He's never been there and Vegas is my happy place so I predict some keeper memories will be made. There will be pictures. My camera and I are intimate. 88 days, suckers!

New Year's Eve party prep is in the works. Lives will be changed!

And every day's the same.

This week has been utterly horrific and I'm glad it's over. I want to puke all over this week. In the history books, make sure it's noted that this week is covered in stomach acid and bile. At least in my book it is. I know...all you're hearing is "WAH". I'm not crying. I just really detest this week. I haven't felt well, I haven't been getting along with Puffin and we haven't slept in the same bed in DAYS (he's sick...I'll blame the horror on that as he is a bad patient...he should be puked on as well), and I've been an emotional train wreck. But you know what cures that?

Cheap pizza, even cheaper beer, and watching some horrible show about celebrities (Celebrity Eye Candy, I believe it was called) where the announcer wrote God awful songs about the video clips that just blew my mind. And doing this with some of my peeps? Well hot DOG, it must be my birthday! One of my peeps is still sleeping on my couch as I type this (she's there...I'm not...I'm a working woman...I'm up before the birds). It was a knee-slappin' good time and I throughly amused myself. Especially when I revealed my ultra secret new tattoo idea. It was laughed at and that's what I was going for. It may very well be my crowning gem. Hold on to your bladders, people.

You know what else is funny? Dr. Armshoulder Shoesnshorts. THAT is funny.

It's freezing cold at work right now. It's only 6:25a and all but it is like an icy tomb in here! My fingernails look blue. That can't be good or healthy or desired. I've been up since 5:30a but I don't even mind. I couldn't sleep if someone paid me. But damn...if someone paid me to do that, I'd be a gazillionaire. I can sleep anywhere at any time. New York subway, an apartment with no heat in winter time while a band is recording, during almost every single televised NASCAR race, during a live performance of Phantom of the Opera, during a live Green Day concert...I am JUST that good! Regardless, I couldn't sleep this morning so I don't even really care about being here at work on a Saturday. Almost all of my guys have showed up and if I don't have to call Bill on a Saturday for a rescue, I consider the day a success. *FOOTNOTE: I just had to call Bill for a rescue...damn it. And everything was running like butter on a summer day...I was going for 'smoothe' but that really projects 'salty and melted'. Regardless, poop.***

I want one of these ridiculously kick ass things:

I'd name it "The Honorable Stoli-san". When the cats die, maybe.

Don't worry 'bout them haters!

LUDA!

No matter how much time passes, "One Time For Me" by Reverend Horton Heat remains a damn sexy song. I think it could bring sexy back all on it's own so eff you, Timberlake! I mean, it's just plain hot, like a buttery breakfast bagle straight from the toaster. Or like home made soup...that can sure be hot. Everytime I hear it, I get a little riled up. I think it's the simple yet memorable guitar mixed with the slow-sensual/fast-aggressive changes. I wish I could erase that last sentence because it's so ridiculous but it is so true! Ridiculous yet true, the story of my life. While "Loco Gringos Like a Party" is still my favorite Rev song and will most likely remain so since he's gone down the tubes, "One Time For Me" will be one I never skip over when surfing the good, ol' Ipod.

I just heard someone say, "Would you please remove your hand from my butt". Yikes!

It's 8:00a and I'm eating Graeter's Cinnamon ice cream for breakfast! It is the most insane ice-cream I've ever had and I can't believe I haven't had an orgasm yet. One pint has 1,040 calories, it's over 25% fat, and I love it! I've really been spoiled this weekend. I'm in our state capital visiting Queen B and her King. They are wonderful friends and entertainers. They got me out of the house and off the couch (I've been having a rough and unmotivated week) but didn't make me do anything I didn't want to. Damn this ice-cream! I pretty much stop typing every other sentence to shovel in a spoonful. I am going to be soooo soft after Christmas.

Regardless of my dairy problems...the ride here was relaxing and quick! I was kissed, hugged, and given suggestions ("Be safe, have fun, call me when you get there") from Puffin after a good night's sleep. I fell asleep during the NASCAR awards but NOT before I saw Kyle Bush call his girlfriend by the wrong NAME! Priceless. So I made it here, spent time gossiping and filling them in on all the Sharks, and we hit the road. We had aBBQ lunch, went to Wal-Mart (where all the rude ass bastards work...I should have spit on them), stocked up on Trader Joe's truffles (I bought 3 cans!!!), and then went to Graeter's for ice cream, hence my breakfast of choice. I lounged, read a magazine, and fell asleep watching Accepted and Van Wilder. Puffin tucked me in over the phone and I was OUT! And here we are now...eating ice cream for breakfast.

I also ate an entire wheel of Brie for dinner. Dairy problems!

Once I get back to lovely Clevo, I'll be cleaning my bathroom and bedroom. Not so thrilling but ultra necessary. After all, we have a big New Year's Eve bash in less than 30 days! I hope that Tom and Carol sleep in my room again. I have such a fond memory of New Year's Day 2006 where all these people were piled in my room and then we had PIE! It started off the year right. But then the year SUCKED! I blame it on not having enough pie through the year. Pie solves all problems, especially if it's warm and a la mode. I bet you wished I talked about things with more substance but I don't give 2 figs about politics or religion or philosophy. I care about goofing off, eating pie, my friends, and utter randomness.

It's been a good weekend. I feel alive again after feeling VERY much like a robot zombie. You would think that would be a cool feeling but it's pretty rotten over all. I like robots. I like zombies. But robot zombies...or zombie robots? Not really on my coolness radar. Enjoy your Sunday!