You drive us wild. We'll drive you crazy!

With make-up on, my favorite member of KISS is Ace Frehley. Without make-up on, my favorite member of KISS is Paul Stanley. Wait. I may be lying. My favorite member with mae-up on MIGHT be Peter Criss. Wow. Who knew what a hard decision this would be? Who knew I would ever have to make such a decision in my life-time? Which member of KISS do I like best with make-up on? My head hurts. I'm abandoning this topic, STAT!

As of 4:00p today, I am officially on VACATION! Pretty much every itty bitty second is planned out between now and when I board that airplane for the soutern most point of the USA. Tonight I have dinner and a movie plans with Johnny that have been brewing for about 3 months now. We're hitting Applebee's and then going to see SUPERBAD! I'm bringing an extra pair of panties since I know...and Johnny guarantees...this will be a laugh riot.

Then tomorrow I have to clean, clean, clean because I don't want to come back frmo vacation to filth. That will be too much of a reminder that my vacation is over and my real life is back in action. And of course I have super, sexy Saturday evening plans but they're a little hush hush.

And Sunday...holy dog shit. That's loose ends day. Finish cleaning. Finish packing. Finish grooming (waxing, shaving, painting them damn toenails). Finish watching everything on the DVR. And TRY and get a good night sleep before our 8:30a flight to MIAMI, BABY! I'm not wearing anything but a bikini for 5 days, I'll tell you what.

Miami ---> Florida Keys ---> Cozumel, Mexico ---> Miami. That's where I'll be in case you never hear from me again. Either Hurricane Dean got me or the electric monkey did. If you'd like to know if it was nice to know you, I'll tell you now that it was! But seriously folks, I have Bonine, a life jacket, 2 bikinis, my boyfriend and a bar tab. I don't think I could be any safer or better prepared!

And when I return, I gotta go back...back...back to school again! It's bye-bye fun, get your homework done.You better be in by ten! I gotta go back...back...back to school again. Whoa, whoa, I gotta go...back to school...again!

Sorry for the musical interlude. I'm actually really excited. Especially about buying new school supplies. I love fresh paper and notebooks and pens. And I also love that unlike at work, I can wear my pajamas to school every day if I so feel like it. And I don't think I'm going to share the classroom with many young recent high school graduate scumbags in my Anatomy and Physiology for Diagnostic Medical Sonograly lecture and lab. God, the prospect of note-taking and quizzes is making me feel frisky. Straight As...I promise you that much. I try not to make promises I can't keep. THAT makes ME feel like a scumbag.

And also...R.I.P. Karma. You can chew my shoes in dog heaven!

I've made a lot of stops all over the world.

In ten days, I'm blowing this pop stand, and no, that's not some new twisted fetish. It's a fact. In ten sweet, luscious, delicious days, I'm going on vay-cay and it couldn't come at a better time. Some people out there, even my family, has made comments about how many places I've gone this year and how much travelling I've done. How is it possible when I'm so poor and scrappy? Well, I squirrel my nuts away when I want/need something. I haven't been good about nut-hording in the past but the thought of umbrealla drinks and crystal blue waters to swim in? It was worth cutting some corners.

There's a big boat with my name on it. Well, maybe not MY name...

Last night, I did my favorite thing ever. I bought all my travel shtuff. Shampoo, conditioner, lotion, tooth paste, toothbrush, body warsh, loofa, Q-tips, THE WORKS! I bought a new fancy pair of dinner shoes and some super heavy duty sunscreen. I bought a red polka dotted shirt because nothing scream CRUISE like polka dots! I'm starting to get so antsy, couting down the days like 10 is sooooo many. Far away like Christmas. But on the flip side, I'm thinking 10 DAYS IS NOT ENOUGH! I need to clean my digs! I need to do boatloads (har-har-har) of laundry! I need to find my faovrite bikini! Why is vacation preparation so stressful!?!? WHY CAN'T I STOP SINGING THE GO-GOS???

In all actuality, my vacation starts in less than 8 days. The second I clock out of this joint next Friday, my brain and body are official in relaxation mode. Technically, I won't be able to relax until we've made it to the airport on time and then until we've made it on the boat before departure. We (Bill and I) are travelling with someone whose name just happens to be the name of a kown terrorist or fellon or something. I suspect rubber gloves and some action at the airport! My plan, honestly, is to have some fun with my fella and our friends (Sharon and Dave) and NOT talk about work and NOT worry about work. I want yummy food and umbrella cocktails and I want to dance my pants off and to swim until I resemble a prune! I've been planning this for almost 90 days now. My summer fun is due!

T-n-C DYNOMITE are being cool enough to take care of my babies, who I will miss painfully. But I got them a new recliner to cover in hair and some obnoxious new toys...the cats, not the babysitters...so they're loving mama lately. This has actually been a really phat summer and this is a good way to wrap things up. I don't even mind that it's been raining daily in Miami, Key West, and Cozumel. As long as I'm not the manager of delivery service for a week, a little hot sumemr rain is worth it!

Banana pancakes and daquiris, HERE WE COME!

Now we grieve 'cause now it's gone.

This is number 300. Bow down and kiss it's slender feet.

I had a dream last night that I met Hugh Hefner's girlfriends, something I've wanted to do. I hugged Kendra who would not be my first choice to hugh (Bridgette...swoon) and it was a very cold hug. They were all very cold and I was incredibly disappointed. We were at some department store where they were promoting handbags and not a lot of people were there. I scrounged around looking for even one Playboy bag that I would carry but they were all duds...and I was literally crawling on the floor. The store was really disorganized in my dream. Maybe it represents my house these days. Regadless...

I was then with a friend and we heard the girls talking about ditching this place so they could go drink Candy Shops, which are fancy drinks from Dave & Buster's. I ran over and gave them directions but they didn't seem very receptive. I hope they got lost. I was then headed for the escalator which was stuffed between two walls like it should have been a stairway (again, possibly my digs), and Kendra was there handing out orange wristbands. She looked like a perfume girl. On the escalator, I passed a very angry looking Hef and I told him his girlfriends were miserable bitches (which I hope to God isn't true).

Then I woke up. Depressed.

I'm a little blue these days. I guess that's why I was asleep on my couch by 9:00p. Then I was up all night with a sick son who was throwing up on anything that would stand still, including my feet. So it's the middle of the night and I'm washing cat toss off my paws. I didn't cry no matter how much I wanted to because I was still half asleep...too incoherant to cry. But I'm not throwing a pity party or anything. I'm laying low until I decide what kind of change I need to make to adjust my attitude. It needs to be wrenched on.

Viva la weekend.

Chewin' on glass and a ticket stub.

Summer is almost over if you can believe that, which I can't because that means time is flying and when time flies, I get older. How's that for a run-on sentence? In seventh grade, I wrote a run-on sentence for English class that had over 1,000 words. I read it in front of the class and was the run-on sentence champion. Boy was I proud! I only remember that it had a lot to do with a limo and a girl names Lisa that I latched on to for a very short time. I hear she got pretty skanky after grade school. Too bad, especially with our Catholic upbringing and all.

I have a pretty nasty sunburn from the race in Indianapolis. Much like any other race, Bill drank too much and acted like an ass-hat. Is it sad that I'm getting used to that? Regardless, The Brickyard was my favorite track so far, our seats were perfecto, and Tony Stewart won the damn thing (and got fined $25,000 for swearing on television...Lincoln Electric represent!). It was a pretty ideal race despite my boyfriend's ass-hatness and the burning hot heat that sucked every ounce of alcohol out of my pores. Pity.

But the race wasn't even the best part of the weekend. It was everything we did on the ride home which may seem goofy to YOU, but I had my best friend and my fella and we were pretty happy. We had a Bob Evans breakfast (raspberry crepes, yum), a DQ adventure, fun at the Goasis (I pooped there. I had my own sink and the bathroom had a couch. In between the men's and women's bathroom, Johnny heard people getting in on in the family can...I don't think that's what it was designed for), Ohio Cheddar at Grandpa's Cheese Barn (!!!), The Simpson's movie and finally, and best of all, I might say, SLEEP! It was hard to come back to work. It was actually a disaster to come back to work. Booooo.

Our cruise is 18 days away and school starts right after. I had this long countdown list of things I was looking forward to doing this summer. With summer being almost over, my social calendar is deflating. I need to find things to pump it back up. Besides the cruise and school, I'll be going to Chicago with the Shoe-Lanes this fall. I want to schedule a trip to Niagara Falls, fo' sho. I bet there will be at least one more race, even if I swore that one was my last one...I can't get away from the burning rubber...we saw a car on FIRE! I need to head south (so dirty) to visit Lisa (even dirtier). I'm sure there will be Pussyfoot shows galore. And speaking of...

Check this out! You only get a little glimpse of us doing The Pop-Up Song with our umbrellas, a little of Jen's leg, a wink from Karen, and Carol's rear-view. But STILL! Here we are:

http://videos.my43.net/kickapps/service/displayMediaPlayPage.kickAction?mediaType=VIDEO&mediaId=63815&as=57

I've got to get a move on with my life.

I don't even know where to begin. I've been a bad blogger and the fact that I call myself a "blogger", is just foolish. Regardless, I'm sure I've had plenty of filth and nastiness to blather on about but...the second you get a second, there's something else you've commited yourself to do! Therefore you have no time to serve the juicy details up in the proper manner (which would be in the manner of serving a luscious steak to a starving carnivore). I'm rambling, I know, but it's early and I'm ashamed of myself and I don't know where I want to begin and I don't know if I even WANT to begin! Do I just talk about the weekend? Do I give a short synopsis? Do I just STOP RIGHT NOW!?!

The Pussyfoot Girls are draining the life out of me while giving me new life at the same time. It's like a vampire thing. As soon as we got back from Heavy Rebel, we had 3 shows to prep for. Leroy Thompson was k-rad, per usual, if you don't count the fact that I tore a muscle in my ASS and wept on the floor of the garage. It was an incredibly clean floor, by the way so that made the moaning purely from pain and not disgust.

The Dragway 42 show was this weekend and while I wasn't looking forward to it (I have a life out side of the PFG that sometimes causes stress, anxiety, and violent tummy aches), we did a great job and secured a plethora of new fans, very, very young and very, very old! Best "I'm Shakin'" ever according to Little Jen. I concur.

But this weekend...this weekend I'm actually counting down the days for! The Old School Sinema Summer Spectacular (kill them with aliteration) is on Friday at the Pirate's Cove and we will be there as your Universal Pussyfoot Girls (I'll be Frankenstein and a hot one to boot...WITH BOOTS). Everyone should be there either to see us (or Devilibillys, Yokels, Cult of the Psychic Fetus, Cap Gun Cowboys) or just to celebrate Halloween in July and be in a local horror flick!

After that show, I'm giving myself permission to drop dead.

But I CAN'T drop dead because as I've stated, and as my record of live birth claims, I still have a LIFE. There's work and there's family and there's a boyfriend and there's friends and there's my house...none of which can be weeded out. Even vacation is stressful! This past weekend, I managed to fit in a PFG show (event, rather, since it was all the live long day), a Miss Firecracker show, and a movie date. But I had to miss seeing my favorite band with my sister, letting her down, I'm sure. I hate letting people down...it makes me feel dirty. Unshowered.

And this weekend...heavens to Betsy! First we have the show/movie shoot, then my nephews graduation party, and then we high-tail it to Indianapolis for the race! My entire body and brain aches just soaking it all in. EVEN HAVING FUN IS WORK THESE DAYS! I'm sorry I'm bitching and moaning and groaning but I have to. Or I am bound to get a bleeding ulcer. I'm pretty sure one started eating me alive last night. Sheeeeeeeesh!

You might as well declare me a zombie once school starts.

8.25 hours until I can work out!
4 days until the Old School Sinema (PFG) show!
6 days until the Indianapolis race!
26 days until Jen and I go to Coney Island!
28 days until Miami, Key West, y Cozumel!
33 days until school starts!

You've...gotta be stacked!

I would love to ramble on and on about how this was the best Heavy Rebel ever and I've never had that much fun in an eternity. And I could babble about how great it was to come home to Puffin...how k-rad things have been since my return. And I could even go as far as to pimp the 4th Annual Rockabilly Deluxe that is going down at Leroy Thompson Choppers featuring the Pussyfoot Girls for the 3rd year in a row. But I won't do any of that.

BECAUSE I AM FUCKING SICK!

I started feeling sluggish last night and woke up to a full blown summer cold. Today is NOT the day to have this. I have 12 hours of fun, drinking, dancing, and rocking out ahead of me! I've been counting down the flipping days for crying out loud. Not to mention that as soon as I leave work here in an hour, I have ten gazillion things to do before heading out. Gotta pack, gotta primp, gotta clean the car out and then load it back up. I'm DOOMED!

All I want to go is die on my couch. Is that too much to ask?

55 minutes until I can work out!
5 hours until Leroy Thompson!
7 days until Dragway 42 and TMBG!
15 days until Indianapolis!
37 days until Miami, Key West, y Cozumel!
42 days until school starts!

Head out on the highway!

I'm leaving for Heavy Rebel tonight and it couldn't be coming at a better time. I have to get out of this place. Away from my job, my relationship, my responsibilities. Just for a little while. Sometimes you just need a break from life but you can't press pause or freeze time. So you're forced to change your situation in order to get some sort of a break. I know lots of people out there, including my ever crabby boyfriend, who looooooove to get a break. Well, I'm lucky enough to be able to escape. So I'm doing that.

It's my 5th Heavy Rebel and I'm expecting the best year ever.

The first year, I went with my ex-hubby, Lisa, and Ben. I really didn't know them. I really didn't know anyone. It took me about a day to warm up as it was a lot to take in. That was probably my least fun time. Not because it wasn't FUN...it was! The years that followed just topped it, that's all. Number 4 out of 4.

Year two, I kidnapped Jen and we fell in love. She was a mere 17 and I have fond memories of the ride down...talking and laughing. We had bugs in our hotel room but didn't mind. There was too much fun going on. My mind was overloaded with fun!! But on the last day, I lost Ezra's camera and threw up the entire ride home. It was a bad ending to a great weekend. That sophomore effort ranks in at 3 out of 4.

The third year was my favorite year YET! All of my friends were there and I was really beginning to pal up with Tom and Carol who were out neighbors at the hotel. That was the year of synchronized swimming, Psychocharger, and flag theiving. I didn't throw up, NOT ONCE, the bands were coo-coo nutty and there are one gazillion photos to document the blast that was had. 1 out of 4, for sure.

Last year was excellent, of course, because I got to spend even MORE time with Tom and Carol and they were right across the hall. But it couldn't top 2005. No matter how much steak I ate or how many beers I drank, something was missing. Everyone seemed a little off. Still...it earns a steady 2 out of 4.

And this year...

It felt so good he bought everyone beers!

Something smells fishy and it's not me. I smell like peaches.

Weird occurrence on the way to work today. I was trucking along and running a titch late but whatever. I'm wearing my new apple shirt and my bossom look plentiful so what's a minute or two here and there? Moving on. I saw a giant sign in someone's yard and assumed it was one of those memorials to someone who died in the military. Those seem to be spreading like wildfire these days. But it wasn't one of those, nor a shrine to any person who had died, and it wasn't an advertisment of any sort for a yard sale of what not. But it spooky, creepy, spine chilling poorly spray painted letters, the giant sign gave me the heebie jeebies.

YOU KILLED OUR DOG.

This was a mammoth sign and it really made me uncomfortable. I'm assuming someone hit the dog and left it for dead, high tailing it out of there. If I was that person, I'd find an alternate route because seeing that sign was haunting...and I didn't even kill the damn dog. I don't even like dogs! But it reminded me alot of one of those Creepshow movies where the lady hits a hitchhiker and he keeps showing up everywhere saying, "Thanks for the ride...lady". I assume this sign had the potential to haunt someone. It was eerie with it's drippy spray paint. And obviously this event really hurt these people since they put the biggest, scariest sign in their yard. I think these people probably butcher people in their shed.

Regardless...rest in peace, Spot.

You say I'm going to die when you tell me.

Awwwww SNAP!

I've got a busted digit! It's not as bad as it sounds though it is painful enough to make me cry when I'm by myself in my cubicle. Sadly, in my relationship, you don't get a lot of sympathy or help when you're sick or injured. Man, Bill really didn't know who he was falling for, did he? The sickest klutz on the block. But screw him. He can whine about his earaches and backaches and life aches to someone else. He's not getting any more of my good, ol' fashioned compassion.

But back to the break...

The weekend got off to a rocky start. My boyfriend had his period so I gave up my Grand Prix ticket so he could go with a buddy. Never spreads his PMS around his pals. Just his woman. So I turned his frown upside down but inherited one of my own. I was, in turn, supposed to go out with the girlfriend of the buddy and she ditched me. I ended up driving home in a furious rage, having a few cocktails, and falling asleep with the Girls Next Door. Wouldn't have been a bad Friday in general but it SUCKED when the air of being ditched was looming. I could have gone with Bill and the buddy...there WERE 3 tickets. Instead, I stewed and am still stewing. I can hold a nasty grudge.

Woke up with a rather large chip off my shoulder. Verbally tussled with my man over the phone while shopping for pasta salad supplies. Don't think I can ever go to that Marc's again. My guy...he sucks at the whole "cheering up" and "sympathizing" gig. He's pretty self-involved at times...full of himself, if you will. But I knew this from the get-go. Arrrrrrr...this isn't even the point! I'm just blathering on and on.

And this type of blather is hurting my paw.

Went to Tom's (and Texas Pete's and Dennis') birthday par-tay and put on a happy face. I refuse to be a bummer in public. They should give tickets for that and honestly, I have enough people and things in my life that are bummers (please reference above where a friend ditched me when I tried to make things easier and more fun for HER EVENING...pffft). So I had some cocktails, rocked out, posed for photos, goofed off, and...

GOT KICKED IN THE HAND!!!

BY MY BEST FRIEND!!!

I'm just doing that for dramatic effect since I know he feels REALLY horrible about the whole thing. And it was an accident! I'm not mad even in the least even if I am in mind-numbing pain today. I kept putting off a trip to see the doc because I kept being told there was nothing that could be done. Olive Garden and a movie did help ease the pain...or mask it for awhile. Bill put a splint on but it was the worst kind, I guess. It was straight rather than curved and hindering my recovery. I learned this last night when I shelled out $50 to learn about chip fractures and splints and hot water soaks and Darvocet. My mitten does look less like a space ship now and more like a burn victim.

But it will all heal up and everything will be gravy. I don't use my right ring finger for a whole lot anyway. It sort of just hang out looking small and skinny. I wish you could see me type! You'd be bent over (and not in a good way) in hysterics. In fact...I need to stop typing. My hand muslces are kaput. Wish me luck in the whole healing process. My mom keeps throwing the word "arthritis" around which is a bummer. And these damn chip fractures and splint dressings are bummers enough.

End trasmission.

Destiny is calling me!

I am experiencing an overwhelming sense of BOREDOM right now. I know that there has to be some down time in life but I don't handle boredom very well. Especially when things have been on such a roll. I've been cleaning my house room by room and weeding out for the big, bad, vacation cash garage sale. I've parted with some things I've never thought I would but I've just accumulated too much...shtuff. And I've been cleaning and cleaning and cleaning. And I've been all in a tizzy getting ready for school (whip out the saddle shoes and short skirt...I'm a school girl again!), meeting with advisors, applying to my program, planning my schedule. So when you're all go! go! go! and then STOP...boredom. It's boring. And I can't stand it.

But here's a dose of excitement you may already know about...

I got two new front teeth on Friday. They didn't use any Novocaine which rots because the itty bitty top portion still containing root and acting as the base for the new pearlies still had FEELING. That part was still REAL! Still LIVING! It was traumatic. And I'm still getting used to my new fangs. It's all weird up in there. He gave the teeth texture because real teeth have texture. And I keep licking the texture. I'm going to lick my gums raw, I'll tell you what.
Anyway...ouch.

I guess I should have explained the WHY of this story. I was in a horrible bar fight this week and some bitches knocked out my grill. My teeth should be made of steel with all the calcium I get. It looked like two Chicklets flying across the bar. And blood everywhere, including in one of the girl's faces...where I spit it! I looked like Cletus the Slack Jawed Yokel. I was all icky and gummy. Like Grandma. It was a very thug moment in my life but once I got home after the incident, I bawled like a baby.

OR...

In the 4th grade, Matt Landy tripped me and I fell knocking out most of my front tooth. It was bonded and everything was A-OK. However, as the years go by, the bond breaks. And the more they replace the bond, the more they have to chip away at the tooth next to it, therefore needing to bond that one as well. And it's just come to a point where both front teeth are pretty fake outside of the tippity top which the bond is built on. Eventually, they will need to be capped.
One of those stories is true. Take your pick!

And all of this stuff is a total boredom cure, for sure!
5.5 hours until I can work out!
17 days until Heavy Rebel!
25 days until Leroy Thompson!
32 days until Dragway 42 and TMBG!
40 days until Indianapolis!
62 days until Miami, Key West, y Cozumel!
68 days until school starts!

I am leaving but the fighter still remains.

It was such an exhausting weekend that I haven't even had the strength to talk about it until now. And even now, I'm getting tired just thinking about that stretch of days. It took me awhile to prepare for our trip to the race and it was waaaaay past my bedtime before I actually sawed wood. There we were in the middle of the night trying to figure out just how to fit ten tons of camping equipment into the Earl Mobile. It was like a clown car. My back window might as well have been none existant. Visibility...zero!

I got weighed and measured which was a nice way to start my mini-vacation. Lost a few pounds, 4% of my body fat took a hike, and some inches melted off of my thighs, abs, and waist (which is already small to a goofy degree so I have to change that up a bit). It made me feel so powerful and so accomplished! I worked out and we hit the dusty trail! Pocono International Raceway or bust! And we certainly had some run-ins with "bust" because we got LOST! Or shoudl I say Bill got us lost! We drove 140 extra miles before we finally found the racetrack and then the boiling death continued accumulating.

MORONS! Everyone employed there was half braindead. I could have murdered at least 10 people while we were shuffled around from gate to gate. No, you're camping here. No, you're camping there. I have no idea where you're camping. There is no gate 6. You need to be staged. Blah blah blah blah. By the time we ended up where we were supposed to be and found our camping plot...well...I couldn't crack a beer fast enough, I'll tell you what. But if you think that we could finally relax at this point...we couldn't! We ran out of lighter fluid! This meant no cooking and no fire! FUCK! Or should I say, we sacrificed what fluid we DID have so we could have a fire. We're not genius' by any means.

And nothing got easier. We were shuffled around all the next day while trying to figure out how to get to our seats. Back and forth. Back and forth. You have to go to this entrance. You have to leave the track and walk all the way around. This leads to pit road. How did you even get in here? I was ready to just flip out. There's no other way to describe it. I wanted to FLIP! When we finally get some accurate directions, we discover that we had just been sent on a wild goose chase when our entrance was right in front of our faces! IDIOTS! Them, not us.

So we go to check out the merch trailers and theer are drivers EVERYWHERE! JJ Yeley, Reed Sorenson, Brian Vickers. And HOLY HELL! JAMIE MCMURRAY!!!! I was mere feet away from him, fighting back tears. I was actually star struck. I have pictures to prove just how close to me he was. I screamed "I LOVE YOU JAMIE" and Bill died a little inside. Still, at that point, nothing could bring me down. Not even the rain that delayed teh race 3 hours and eventually forced us to pack up camp and high tail it home. Oh, I'm sorry. That DID bring me down! It was AWFUL! We smelled like wet dogs and wrapped our trip up a day early. We weren't even there 24 hours!JESUS!

But Gordon did win the race by default so I won $230. Rad.

How did we spend our final day off since we were driving home from Pocono? We got a pizza, watched a movie, and crashed. The next day, we hosed off and headed to Hoggy's for lunch. It was supposed to be a pre-cursor to a full day of drinking. Nothing is better than drinking when everyone else is working hard and stressing out. But a mistake was made when Bill decided to try the Hoggy's Challenge. Oh Lord. We couldn't talk to each other through the whole meal because he had work to do. I couldn't even look in his direction without wanting to toss. He ate everything...I can't even discuss what he ate...and got a free t-shirt. The rest of the day consisted of sleeping, moaning, and slothing. I tried drinking but it's not fun alone. Damn you Hoggy's Challenge!

So the weekend is over. I know it sounds utterly awful...and portions of it were. But the quality time was good. The snuggling, the talking, the napping. Just being together and not biting each other's heads off. Jamie McMurray was good...souveniers are always good. Bill is good. Life is good.

But BELIEVE ME...I'm not doing squat this weekend! Cleaning, prepping for the garage sale, Jen's party, vegging, working out. That is the extent of my plans. My brain and body need a break.

It took a twist but I turned.

I need to start carrying around a little note book with me at all times. I always see or hear odd things that I want to share with all of y'all and I THINK that I will remember them, but I never do. They're always interesting and strange or funny, a nice break from the ramblings of my life. Alas, they go out as fast as they come in, leaving my brain vacant of anything noteworthy. So I'm forced to ramble on.

I have a meeting with the admissions advisor at Tri-C next Thursday. I've decided to bust out the plaid skirts and saddle shoes and go back to school. Knowledge is never wasted, or so says my mom. I did learn plenty in Human Sexuality, after all. But enough about my smarts. I was mulling a few different options over in my head and while Psychology is my thang, I don't want to go to grad school. I want to have a life and not be married to my career. I see how people who are like that turn out and it's not for me. I WANT TO LIVE! I've decided to check out Diagnostic Medical Sonography with the OB/GYN field (so I can talk about woman bits and fetus' all day long). I'm so jazzed about it...and not just because I get to wear scrubs!

I can't join the program until next fall so I'm going to get my pre requisites and shadowing out of the way AND I'm going to get a Phlebotomy certificate (!!!) just to give me a leg up on everyone else. One more skill to tack on. And no, I'm not just doing this so I can take a class called "Intro to Blood Colelcting", though that is a perk that I will brag all about. I can't wait to have fresh notebooks and pens. I'm all a quiver!

Our tickets to the race and infield camping passes finally showed up last night. Like the two loser nerds that we are, we made an extensive check list to make sure we don't forget anything for the weekend. It takes a lot to prepare to go to a race, especially when you're going to be there from Saturday to Monday! I can't wait to hear that vooooooooooom. It's a sound like no other. I know you think I'm a redneck now but it's not like that. It's more about fast cars and gambling, for me. And Jamie. Beautiful Jamie.

And tonight is Pussyfoot practice, per usual. We have two big shows in July and have to plan for them now! We only have 4 practices before we all hightail it to Heavy Rebel and then we have to twist-n-shout when we get back. And as I've said, so much work goes into planning a show these days. It can be mind numbing. I hope we accomplish as much as possible tonight and that I can simultaneously make contributions AND prep for the weekend. I'm a multi-tasker. No sweat.

8 hours until I can work out!
2 days until the Poconos!
9 days until Tessa's birthday jam and Jen's housewarming!
16 days until the Three Stooges Birthday party!
29 days until Heavy Rebel!
37 days until Leroy Thompson!
44 days until Dragway 42!
52 days until Indianapolis!
74 days until Miami, Key West, y Cozumel!

I think we should get together now.

Holy hot dogs! We've entered the 6 month of the year and I haven't evaluated the progress of my resolutions list lately! Sheeeeesh! Lamenting on my successes and failures seems like as good a way as any to celebrate the arrival of June, if I do say so myself. And I DO say so myself because I like to hear myself talk. Or squalk.

2007 Resolution List Evaluation, suckahs.

3. Call Bill on his bullshit - I am a pro at this. It may wind up being my biggest success of the year. And things are perty swanky right now! I'm not going overboard or I would be ignoring resolution #5...but I am speaking up when the time is right. We're in love. And utterly repulsive.

4. Treat others the way I expect to be treated - I'm not going to say I do this all of the time because no one can say that. Everyone has a jerk streak, some bigger and longer than others. I can be Queen Jerk Off. But recently, I've tried to be, ya know, a little less jerky. It hasn't really been that hard and it helps me avoid drama. And you can still be involved with gossip without being a jerk. So, go me!

5. Let the little things go - You have to or you'll go berzerk. However, it's hard to REALLY let the little stuff go. Sometimes it's more like "bottling the little stuff up"...and then you explode like a little girl packed with dynomite. It can get ugly. I'm trying.

7. Find a workout buddy and take some sort of water aerobics class - I joined a gym with 2 (count 'em, 2) workout buddies and I LOVE it! L-O-V-E! I get weighed and measured again on Saturday and I am jazzed. I'm sure I won't be any lighter because I can tell I'm gaining muscle but that's fine by me. I like having tone and definition. Farewell extra long snake arms! Plus I don't get winded as easily which is good...gotta keep that athsma wrangled. I'm feeling great. I wish it was 4:00 so I could be working out right now. Sick, isn't it?

13. Spend more time with my friends - Carol has GOT to be sick of my mug but I don't care. I like hanging with my friends. It's my favorite thing to do. And with all this Pussyfoot action scheduled for the summer...plus Heavy Rebel...I'm getting some hearty Ol' Kentucky Shark action up in here. Feels good to make memories.

14. Relax! - Championship napper over here! And semi-professional vacationer. We paved the way with Vegas and we'll tie the year up with the cruise. I have a boyfriend whose brain is in knots because he works too hard or too much. It's my job to help him relax and therefore, I have to be able to. The more relaxed you are, without being a sloth, the better you can handle all the garbage that tends to invade life. So do what Frankie says...

15. Get healthier to avoid getting sick so often - Working out, eating better, getting more sleep, laughing more often, drinking water (!!!), handling stress, not smoking, drinking less, no more fast food, farewell to Pepsi. It's all good.

16. Plan some fun roadtrips (Niagara Falls!!!) with fun people - I haven't been able to get anyone on board for Niagara Falls just yet. But I did go to Pittsburgh, and I am going to Poconos and Indianapolis, not to mention Heavy Rebel (how many times CAN I talk about this?) and future visits to Columbus. My car has seen a lot of action this year and I predict alot of miles ahead. The tunes, the talking, the travel. I dig it.

18. Do some home improvements and keep the joint clean - I cleaned the attic yesterday and started in on the basement. We have a garage sale in the works so I need to start weeding. If I EVER live with Bill, we'll need a separate joint for all of my shtuff (or, as it's been suggested, an RV for races that can be parked in the driveway filled with all of my shtuff). We're collectors. I have books and movies and artwork and just plain old weird...stuff. It takes up alot of space. Regardless...cleaning my place comes first. And I'm making headway.

19. Avoid drama - I've cut out a lot of dramatic people from my life so that helps. I hate being all frustrated and discouraged and filled with anger. Drama will NOT help me relax. So I'm avoiding it. Even if it's made me more of a hermit on some occasions, that's alright. I can live with that. I'm not in high school anymore so take your "so and so is mad at so and so" and shove it. Well, tell me about it first (I AM a good listener and I DO love gossip...it's my weakness) but then shove it.

20. Continue to NOT jog/run and continue to HATE joggers/runners - Enough said. Though I can tolerate those who run in place and running in place in general. I do it when I work out. But still...jogging. Yuck. And jogging suits, good GOD!

21. Go to the movie theater more - I've been to the movie theater more this year than I have in the last few years combined. I have plans to see Knocked Up this weekend. And weeeeee...Ocean's 13 comes out next weekend. I'm a movie maniac. I'm still weepy that I didn't see Kickin' It Old Skool but I guess that wasn't as important to some as it was to me. There's always Netflix!

23. Get more involved in helping the Pussyfoot Girls grow! - And we are GROWING! We're interviewing new girls, planning new shows, buying new merch. And I'm happy to say, I've had my paws in everything. Carol and I were mondo busy with PFG for awhile. That was pretty much all we talked about and dealt with. After our success at the Sacred Pistons show, we're taking June off which is niiiiiiiiiice. Still practicing, just not prancing. We're on our way and we've come a LONG way since April 2005. Hot DOG! And *blush*.

26. Have a super mega fun Vegas vacation! - Done and done!

29. Keep the high five alive! - Some people still get annoyed but more recently, no one has left me hanging. That makes me feel like I've made some headway. The high five isn't just for volleyball games. It's a way of saying, "Good job, buddy" or "That's what I'm talking about" or "I'm glad we finally made concrete plans". It's so versatile. It says so much without saying anything at all. Plus, when you know a person hates the high five but hits you back anyway...they like or at least respect you because it's AGONY for them to do something so gay. Suckahs.

31. Buy more books and read them! - Books are expensive! I just finished "5 People Who Died During Sex and 100 Other Terribly Tasteless Lists". It started off great but trailed off. And I tried to read it on my lunch breaks but a lot of it wasn't food friendly. I'm moving on to "Burton on Burton" which I expect to go with my salads a little better. And my book collections has expanded and will continue to do so. I'm a book worm. What what!

WHEW! I'm OUTTA HERE!

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.