You always have to make your own fun.

I'm going to jump right in. Dive head first into the menstrually bloody pool of the Blog-o-Sphere. The visual that is coming into my brain (which is currently shut off) is when Diane Freeling slid inot the recently dug foundation of their swimming pool while it was raining...at night...and caskets emerged with things resembling Angelina Jolie popping out. Yes, blogging these days reminds me of drowning with the rotting corpses of Native Americans. Pantie-wetting terror. I used to be so good at this. And I have such a vaginally-satisfying summer on the hoizon that I NEED to have a hard copy of. A hard and erect copy for posterity. I need to get back on my GAME, muthatruckers. And that is my promise to you...to slather your brains in seepage and gore that is produced by my life. That promise is brought to you by the letters T, M, and the number 5. Wow...I didn't dive in at all!! I belly-flopper per usual! Jack-ass.

So I put in my request for Heavy Rebel vacation days and it was approved!!! I practically tore open my shirt and yelled GOOOOOOOOOOOAAAALLLLL! But no one would have understood my excitement. Just thinking about piling in the Grey Ghost with my favorite Ol' Kentucky Sharks (Gills McHigh Hair, Shark Bones, Guest Starring Sharko, Johnny Sharko...and the as-yet-un-named Shark that I'm in lurve with), makes my eyeballs liquify. It has the potential to be the best year ever. It has the potential to erase my brain, and THAT is what I am after these days. I just want to put on some flip-flops, pile up my hair, and get sweaty, drunk, and obnoxious with the people I love and the people I have F-U-N with. There is no reason to be so stressed all the time! There is NO REASON why every time I take a shower, my stress tried to escape my body in the form of BLOOD POURING OUT OF MY FACE (I've been having a lot of nose bleeds recently...not facial stigmatas or anything). There's on 58 short days which is NOTHING since I started the countdown at 130. I used to have very little to look forward to...

In other news, I'm still in love. We "broke out fight cherry", as my "out of town bestie" Rocko says. In was pretty gnarly for a first major blow out. I was throwing ineffectual mental fists left-n-right. For a minute, I was ready to run for the hills because it felt like all too familiar territory with the yelling and the crying and the anger. But for whatever reason, we get over humps and fights and brawls so quick. So it's over now and we're all in lurve and shtuff again. I knew I was a happy clam with a happy clam when I just passed out on his lap at 9:00p while he passed out on my back. You might call us "old, tired fucks"...I call us "in it for life". And life is LONG! It requires an early bed time here and there. Bottom line...he's changing my life day by day. This thing on my face? It's called a smile and I dig it!

Alright...before I drown you by blowing a gigantic load of "emo" all over your face, I'll just tell you about a few upcoming punches on my dance card. I hope to see as many of you as possible at as many of these things as possible. Let me trade in the misery I've been covering you all in over the past 3 years for some good ol' fashioned awesomeness. And I promise, I'm going to keep all of y'all more up to date on the happenings of my little life. I mean, I'm sure that you would be have the person you are if you didn't know that while in Canada, Todd suggested we buy our wedding rings with the Skee-Ball tickets we accumulated. That's something that needs to be carved in stone, right there...though our grotesquely large knucles sort of made our gummy rings useless).

CALENDAR OF KICK-ASS-NESS

5/8 - Meatmen @ The Jigsaw

5/9 - Lords of the Highway and Uncle Scratch @ The Jigsaw

5/10 - Miss Firecracker One Woman Band @ Nemeth's

5/17 - Ladies Night w/ The Pussyfoot Girls @ The Sac

5/22 to 5/29 - DISNEY WORLD!!

6/3 - The Breeders @ House of Blues

6/12 - Iron Maiden @ Blossom

6/13 - Sasquatch and the Sick-a-Billies @ The Beachland

6/21 - Get Tank's w/ The Pussyfoot Girls @ The Sac

7/3 to 7/7 - HEAVY REBEL WEEKENDER ADVENTURE!

7/12 - The Pussyfoot Girls @ Rockabilly Deluxe 4!

7/19 - The Pussyfoot Girls @ Dragway 42 Rock-n-Race!

8/16 - The Pussyfoot Girls w/ THE HEPTANES @ The Sac

Annnnd...I'm spent.

And this last mile, I travel with you.

Starting blogs is always awkward. Like the first time you have sex with somebody. How do you jump right in there without making an ass-hat of yourself? The first time I had sex with the last person I had sex with is a little blurry. The second time I had sex with the last person I'm going to have sex with was REALLY blurry. But the third time...mind-blowing! So the beginning is iffy and shaky and scared and all sealed up and ready to BURST! But by the end, you're lubed up and pretty much a pro. I have no idea why I decided to phrase it all like that. I was going to use juicier, nastier, filthier terms but I held back. No need to make you toss cookies straight from your stomach acids into your pretty laps. I'm a rambler today.

OH! Here's something that will make you puke up a lung...

I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND! Fuck. It's incredible. I've never felt so alive. I know you shouldn't base how alive you feel on another human being. You should probably base it on a functioning brain and a beating heart. Actually...just the beating heart part. It's really all you need. Regardless, I was sort of Frankensteining it through life the past few years and today...POW! I realized I am totally and completely alive and in love. I'm appreciating things so much more. I'm laughing harder and more than I have in a long time. I want to take any negativity I have and turn it into something positive...because that's what Todd deserves. He's giving me a second chance at life, in a way. I want to make sure every second he spends with me knocks his socks off. Cause damn...he knocks mine off the second he walks through that door. I don't want to be some cheerleading sap-ass but how did I get so lucky?? My breath is taken away daily. Rad.

I'm psyched about so many things besides Todd but honestly...I can only focus on how jazzed and happy I am right now. I feel like I'm in junior high but without all that ridiculous period and puberty nonsense. I promise to give you more content later because a lot has happened and you want in on it, beieve me. Love all of your guts!

SHAKE...like a snake.

Robotic wolves? Robotic zombies? SOMETHING is trying to free itself from my chest cavity. It feels like my entire thoracic region has been pounded on by something stronger than fists but less aggressive than sledge hammers. And oh the rainbows of junk that I'm coughing up every 5 minutes. It's a beautiful and some what horrific vision that just needs to STOP! And while I'm dying to get better...or dying from whatever heinous disease I've procured this week...I'm sort of hoping to keep this sort of raspy/squaky thing going on in voice box. My fella likes it. Raspy voice brings on the kissing. Ooh la la! And...cue the vomitting. The vommitting of rainbow colored junk from my fucking LUNGS!!!

To talk of happier and more nude times...everyone who is anyone and even people who are nobody should come to The Sac tomorrow for The Pajama Jamboree! Sac shows are my most favorite thing to do, second only to the lap sitting and Bouncing Souls listening that sometimes goes down. The Sac gives me a chance to just be someone else for awhile and rock out, which, let's face it, I was born to do! And in my pajamas no less!!! Anyone who knows me knows I LOVE pajamas more than I love licking blood off my victim's faces. All my friends are there and everyone leaves their baggage at the door. Pussyfoot Girls leave sweat on the stage. Some people leave blood on the streets. All I know is that I love it...more than I love general anesthetic. Anyone who knows me also knows that I have a problem with that. We all have our vices.

So...blather. I'm in a generally bitchin' mood today and I don't know if it's because of the weather or my fucking fox of a boyfriend or all my awesome friends (especially, most recently, Phoe-Bizzle) or the prospect of how rad-ass the Sac show will be. I know it's not my illness. That's the right hot poker up my pie right now. Hopefully one more night of maxin' and chillaxin' will have me up on my paws and ready to dazzle you with my cute-as-a-button-ness. I'm going all Chrissy Snow from Three's Company tomorrow night. You don't want to miss it. And you don't want to miss me getting HIGH FIVE tattooed on my knuckles. I love all you sluts and your after-sex smells.

VIVA LA WEEKEND!

Can't remember last time you felt like livin.

I'm seriously starting to think that my body is cursed. I'm sick...AGAIN! Luckily, this time, none of my guts and/or organs are trying to escape. But my head feels like a balloon and I'm waiting for it to take flight. Yesterday at work, I was fortunate enough to have to rap a full sized spar in 3 pieces which meant a whole lotta bubble wrapping. It doesn't take a genius to bubble wrap. It was heavenly. I didn't have to think or speak or do anything. Just pop, pop, pop that bubble wrap! Today, unfortunately for all, there are things to be done so I can't turn my brain off. I have 4 short days to buck up before the Pajama Jamboree, which I have really been looking forward to. Send soup! Send meds! Send a shoebox full of twenties!

On the upside, since there is NO UPSIDE to fluid constantly running our of your face and down your throat and various colors of junk being hacked up...I could just vomit after saying all that. Now what the HELL was I saying? Oh yeah! Upside! My boyfriend could kick your boyfriend's ass...but he wouldn't because he has just the right balance of sweet-n-tuff. I have never felt so lukcy and fortunate. Phoebe says she has no doubt that if we ran off tomorrow and got married we'd be together forever. How BOSS is that!?!?! K-RAD! I was worried that this might have all happened too speedy-like and that it would end up exploding in our faces with damgerous results! But Carol says WHEN IT'S RIGHT, IT'S RIGHT! She knew the night she met Tom that he was the one. I felt the same...about Todd, not that Tom isn't one handsome devil. Future is looking bright!

Understand...this is just the beginning.

The most recent episode of "Cleveland Needs Phoebe" was titled "Lacey's Best Day Ever" and guest stared ROCKO! In all actuality, it should have been a 3-parter because it was really 'Lacey's Best Weekend Ever". In fact, the good stuff just keeps on trucking along! I'm sure you don't want to hear the play-by-play of my weekend but you also don't want to hear people talk about wanting to cry tears of job during anal. But you do. So sit back, relax, and be jealous of my killer weekend. And of my friends, those dirty, drunk tramps-n-sluts!

Friday was just a blur from start to finish. I RUSSSSSHED home from work to finish my outfit for the Rock-n-Roll Dance Party at The Sac, had to finish my solo dance (SMUT CITY), eat and transform into Patti Cake. It was a lot to cram in to just a few short hours and it wasn't the sort of cramming I wanted to do...SPRING FEVER. But the dance party was by far my favorite Sac show. I'm not going to gush-n-gush, but my friends and my hot boyfriend are mind blowers. Phoebe surprised me with ROCKO and my panties needed changing. I had fun on top of fun on top of fun. My fella drove me home after I danced all night and we...played Twister. Or something kinda like it...many, many, many times. Lucha VA VOOM, I must say.

The next morning, the sun was out, and I was madly "in like". We went to The Sac to pick up some props and parted ways. I met up with Phoebe Jeans and Rocko for more food than I could possibly shake a stick at and I laughed uncontrollably the whole time. And said "anal" and "vag". A lot. Then we decided to just spend time together and had THE BEST DAY EVER! We went to Shoparooni (I bought a stuffed moustache), drove around Lakewood looking at big digs, got ice-cream, toured the Metroparks, went to the park and sat on the pier. It was phenominal. I loves those 2 kids so much and nothing made me happier than spending quality time with them. It's good to have Phoebe back in my life. And Rocko...heart-go-throb. Then it was another mad dash to rock out with the PFG in Painesville. It was the first time Weasel had seen us since we became the hot tickets in town. And it was RAD! He was supportive and good to my pals and everything just felt right! MADLY "in like". MADLY! And those PFG...I love those saucy bitches! Especially that Carol High Hair. What a fox.

And Sunday was ALSO incredible. I made serious tracks all over town with Tom and Carol! Went to The Sac (can't get away from that joint), went to The Mission, ate some lunch, drank some beers, filled hours with ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-chatter and malted hopps-n-barely. Amazing. And tied the whole weekend package up with movies-n-beer with my guy. It was what I needed. In fact...I just have to stop talking about it. It was that good. I feel warm in the cheeks.

At another time, I'll tell you why last night was the "BEST SOMETHING I CAN'T REALLY TALK ABOUT ON THE INTERNET". And then I'll get sweaty and blush.

I'm as human as the next girl.

Boyfriend. I've got one. As of Friday night/Saturday morning. It might seem too early after my previous disaster of a relationship (I did love the dude, don't get me wrong...he just couldn't love and/or be nice to me so, what's a gal to do???) BUT you can ask any of my very close friendies...we have chemistry coming out of our bloody eye-sockets. And I mean bloody like GROSS but bloddy like British. I know what I'm doing, or GOD I hope I do. He's bad-ass. It's funny since we both had mini-crushes on each other last summer and POW! He's my guy now. I'm his ace. We're really happy and geeked so please be happy and geeked for us. Yesterday morning he woke up and said, "If we're going to spend the next 60 years together, I better bring a toothbrush over".

Boss!

I want to make up for lost time.

Well smack me in my smirking face with a red-hot-poker, I should be ASAHMED of myself! I've been seriously slacking because Jump In The Sac and my little school-girl crush have become mighty time consuming...all in a goooooood, adrenaline-pumping way. Things have been generally rough around the edges recently (I'm sure you can list off my woes on your own: getting sick (twice!), breaking up, school, new job, ever growing bills) but I think they're starting to take a fine-lookin' turn.

So much good, almost orgasmic schtuff is right around the corner and it's going on for miles. Several Pussyfoot Girls shows in April, May, June and our favorite, JULY! Then there's Heavy Rebel, of course, and trips to Niagara Falls and Bristol, TN (let's go racin'!!!). I'm thinking about purchasing The Chevy Metal even if it's way out of my price range because I would look foxy in it and it would allow me to have really BIG hair. I'm making a HUGE school decision that starts next week and MAY change my life. And last but not least, there's a boy. He calls me Cupcake and likes kissing me and he thinks we're as geeky as I do. And I love it. We only started hanging out 10 days ago and I'm smitten. I'm like a school girl. A CATHOLIC school girl, if you catch my drift.

So I'm good. Life is good. Life is BUSY and THAT is good. I'm happy.

Well I never, never, never had to ask before.

I have a crush. I hear that looking at us was "like watching a romantic comedy". Oh God, crushes are awesome and mind blowing and I wish everyone could have them and that they'd last fo'eva. All those weird butterflies in your chest and the pit of your stomach. I hate saying butterflies. So sorority girly. So...I'll say...I have wolves. I have robotic wolves in my chest and the pit of my stomach. I didn't plan on having a crush this soon after my break-up (today would have been our anniversary, by the way, but we didn't make it...which I don't think anyone was too shocked about) but I guess sometimes crushes sort of just show up. Like herpes. But less horrifying. So that's the bottom line. I have a crush. And he makes my heart beat really fast and he likes kissing me and he'll have thumb wrestling battles that make my hand bleed and he has a mohawk I can hold on to and he used the term "snuggle nap". I have a crush and the bile is rising up in the back of my throat. Its rad-ass. Stay tuned!

Man, I swear she's bad and she knows.

Today, John "Dynomite" Jackson refered to masturbating as "having a Battle Royale with your nether regions". After hearing that, I'm pretty sure I can just puke and die and have zero regrets.

I may have to pause so I can poop. Better put some Justin Timberlake on.

Recently, I heard someone say "Pants-Off Dance-Off" and I loved it. For crying out loud, lyrical genius. People have been saying funny things left and right recently and it's been hitting me square in the laugh-center of the brain. Like rotten tuna fish.

2 days until the St. Patrick's Day Massacre at The Sac. I'm pretty riled up for this show. Sure, my costume hasn't arrive, I need to dye my hair, and there's all kinds of odds-n-ends that need to be done first. But I don't care if I have to show up in a garbage bag slathered in blood, it's going to be a-mazing. Sho 'nuff.

I really only have some to blather. You won't hold this in your brains for the next five seconds. I could talk about my mixed-up, flipped-up life but why? Been at the job a month now. Been broken up for other a month. Registering for summer. Switching majors. BORING.

What's not boring? Johnny and Phoebe. They blow minds for a living.

I have to shower now. I really don't want nayone getting familiar with my scent. It's not cool to have people know when you're about to enter a room. Like this broad I met recently that "marinates in perfume". Not classy, lassy. Going to take a swim in my tub,

I love the following people and by love, I mean, you KICK BALLS:

Johnny
Phoebe
The Shoe Lanes
Rocko
Queen B
Tessa

All winners in my black book. And what a buncha sexy bitches!!!!!!

Living is easy with eyes closed.

Today marks 120 days until I climb into The Gray Ghost with The Shoe Lanes, Johnny Switchblade and Rocko-n-Roll. In 120 days, I'll be Heavy Rebel bound. I think I'm more psyched about it this year than any previous year and I have the distinct pleasure of truckin' down to Winston-Salem with my favorite people on this filthy planet. I think Carol needs to bring TWO Wacky Packages notebooks to fill with all the genius that will no doubt spew from our mouths this year. Poets, all of us.

And this year...I'll be single-n-mingling at Heavy Rebel. I've always been dating or married or waiting for someone to come aorund or dating again. This year, I'm just going to go and enjoy myself full throttle without worrying about...anything! I'm going to dance these pants straight off these legs! And if my pants come off due to dance, no one can get mad at me! I owe explainations to NO ONE. Unless the folks at the Millenium Center have a problem with my pants-less-ness. In which case, their priorities are all wacky.

So this countdown also tallies the amount of days I'm going to be on the Tommy Bones Workout Program (of course I will continue busting my balls to stay fit, healthy and happy when I get back...but I need to have a goal and HRW is it, yo). Today he came over for my first assessment. I'm flexible, have the proper amount of body fat, have good lunge technique and decent core strength. I can't do ANY push-ups and the amount of time I can do that wall thing...embarrassing. But it will all come with time. I'll let you know the progress I've made on April 5th. I'll be one month closer to wearing my blue shorts with the whales-n-skulls! AS Olivia Newton-John said...let's get physical, mutha-fuckahs.

There's something I want to talk about and I just CAN NOT and probably never will be able to. I'm blushing just thinking about it. It's the Irish curse. The degree of pink of these cheeks sells me out every time. Regardless, holy pancakes. Life is funny and it just keeps getting funnier every time I decide to take the plunge and live it! Spending lots of time with my pallys...absolutely NO transition there, this has NOTHING to do with why I blush for hours-n-hours daily...has been amazing. My BFFs could kick your BFFs ASSES all the way to Hoboken and back! It's total steak sauce to be surrounded by people that support you and think you're tits.

But don't get me wrong. I DO feel those pinchy break-up twinges. Especially at night. It seems like around 4:00am is when I start thinking about things. I'm sure I did the right thing. And I actually KNOW I did. I'm not trying to convince myself. If I'm going to suction cup myself to one dude for the rest of my life, I want him to think I'm tops. My friend Kenny married his wife because he looked at her and knew she was just too cool to let go. How fucking bad ass is that?

So...120 days to Heavy Rebel. 120 days of livin. Take it sleazy, y'all.

I'd rather leave than ever believe.

Once again, I've been a miserable blogger but honestly, boring you to death is not at the top of my priority list. Yeah, I've got priorities. I've also got a papercut that I sustained at Dick's Sporting Goods. What's it to ya?! Ahhhh...I'm just being nasty and snappish and I need to stop. Truth is, I've put off writing about recent effed up events and I just need to. I just need to flush out my system. It's how I roll. I guess I just didn't want t'o admit that things are the way they are but they ARE. I for sure didn't want to admit that I've given up the fight but I have. I've given up.

I've already blathered on and on about how sick I was and there's not much point in discussing how I still don't feel like I've bounced back. I don't really feel like talking about the issues I'm having in school, how this semester may be a wash, how I'm thinking of changing majors yet again. I've pretty much forgotten about how miserable my old job made me because I am dealing with the nerves of a new job (that's I'm pretty sure I like so far...I'm certainly having fun with some of the people there). It's the last thing that's eating me alive. The "former relationship" thing. The "break up" thing. I just didn't want to blog about another X amount of years down the tubes. 3, by the way. 3 years down the drain.

I'm not going to go into the ultra gorey and painful details. I just can't rehash all that right now or anymore. I think it's difficult to break up with someone if you've dated for 5 minutes or 5 years, whether you were madly in love or not that interested. No one likes to break up. No one is good at it. When I was having some really rough spots with this, someone said to me, "Sometimes it hurts the most when you've doing the right thing". I can't remember who said it and I know I didn't quote you correctly. But you're right. I had to break up and it was one of the hardest things to do. But I was in too much pain and was become unrecognizable to myself. I want ME back. But what hurts is...I know I'm not an EX collector. When I break up...I break up. My ex-boyfriends are not lingering around. Not seeing this person...ouch. I'm dealing with a lot of pain but comes in waves these days.

My mom reminded me that when I got divorced, I couldn't put one foot in front of the other. I just wanted to stop breathing or go into a temporary coma. But eventually, it all got better and I moved on. It's just virtually impossible to see the light at the end of the tunnle at this time. I think I'm handling this better than I have past break-ups. I've tried to be respectful of his feelings but to be firm in my beliefs. I know there was nothing I could have done differently. I was a good girlfriend. I asked for nothing but respect and love. I guess we were just a square peg and a round hole. It smarts. It stings. I have a great support system though...my friends and family are being supportive and not condescending. I was very much in love so the last thing I need is anyone making me feel like this is nothing. And I don't want myself or anyone to make HIM feel like HE is nothing. He knows what he needs to know, I poured out my heart. It doesn't need to be rubbed in. Despite all that happened, the idea that he is hurting hurts me, too. It's so hard.

So right now I'm just trying to take this time to figure out my life. Do some things I miss doing...going to shows, painting, working on Shark Attack! and PFG, having movie days where I never leave the couch, having insane amounts of fun fun fun. I want to rock out and dance and hang out with my pals and the Ol' Kentucky Sharks. I want to spend time in my kick ass house...nesting, I guess. I want to work hard at my job and get school and my health back on track. I want to work out with Tommy Bones and start feeling good in my skin again and THEN I want to wear itty bitty bikinis and short shorts and tight red, plain pants from H&M. I want to hold my head up high like I used to. And eventually...I want to make out. For days.

Tonight my nightgown is in knots.

I feel like all the heat in my body is trying to escape out the top of my head. There should be little menthol vapors hovering above me. I feel all trippy when I'm not at work these days. All vapory and woozy. Like I'm here in my body but I'm really not. I'm really in Vegas and wearing really short shorts. It's hard to explain right now. I think the honest truth is that post-recent emotional outbursts, I'm shutting down more and more. I freak out and feel like my heart will stop beating and that I'll drown. Those human feelings are fewer and further between and the robot-y feelings are closer and closer together. I hope I can at least be a drinking robot like Bender.

I haven't been sleeping very well and I love sleeping more than anything else. It's my favorite past time besides day-dreaming which usually leads to sleeping. And how much time I spend sleeping is not because I'm depressed, even if I am right now. It's because I'm in love with pajamas and pillows and blankets. My cats crawl in, the tube is on, my breathing is depressed and it's lights out! But right now, it's vampirish and semi-gothy. And I'm sure that my lack of sleep is due to the fact that my life has changed so incredibly much since 2008 kicked in. Things I never thought would happen even if deep down in I my rotoic heart and brain I should have known they would, HAVE happened. And it's only been 2008 for 50 days. Holy pancakes!

The routines of the past 3 years of my life have been completely erased. I don't work where I worked for 3 years any longer. I'm not planning a future with the person I was planning a future with for the past 3 years any longer. It's all making my head spin. Maybe that's why I feel like vapors and heat are escaping from my skull. Maybe it's my emotions because I have been through ENOUGH in my life, no matter what anyone thinks. I just want to shut down, put in my time, and never make a new connection with anyone ever again. Cause one minute they're here and the next they're gone (and this has to do with my old job and my former mate...you can't trust anyone). I can't take that anymore. I'm not built Ford tough. I'm not built like a tank neither. Or a Hummer. I've got to adjust to my new routine and try not to cumble. I'm a strong person underneathe all this fluff, otherwise I would have taken a flying leap a few years back. I just hope my transition to robot kicks in soon.

A wise woman recently told me to follow her mother's advice: act like you're worth a million bucks...and find a man who will treat you like two million.

I know it's disgusting, believing and trusting.

There is always a moment when you think, "Things can't get any worse. There is nothing else that can happen that can make my current situation any more difficult". And you look at that like it's a plus. If you think that you're at the bottom already, the only place you can go is up. But then something DOES happen to make your situation worse. You didn't think it was possible but what do you know anyway? I've been down. I've been having a hard time recently emotionally, physically, what have you. And I've always heard (in movies or from religion buffs) that God never gives you more than you can handle at a given time. Well, I hope God thinks I'm Wonder Woman because I've got just about all I can take. I know that I am at the end of my rope. I also know that I am just about to the point where things are going to stop shocking me. I'm going to accept feeling bad as feeling normal. Then what happens to me?

I wish I could talk about what's going on, what happened yesterday. But it's too new. Too fresh. I need to let it all sink in. All I'll say is that I heard a lot of things about myself that just hurt. There's no fancy word to describe it all. It just hurt. And everything that was said was said to be mean. There was nothing constructi.ve about it. And hearing all these God-awful things from someone who supposedly loves you...someone you KNOW you've been good to...it's just unbeliveable. And I know there's people out there who might be really overjoyed to know that I'm hurting. Well, here you go. I'm hurting...and at the worst time possible. Enjoy. It just all blows my mind. Nothing...and I mean NOTHING...is different about me. I am the same person I've always been, weird quirks and all. I have not changed since day one and I won't change because I don't think anything is wrong with me. Or I didn't until I got a long list of all the things that are wrong with me. Like I didn't have a list of things to worry about already.

Somewhere in the midst of all of this garbage, I turned 29. Great.

Isn't that the way they say it goes?

Pity party, table of 1.

Here we are, 3 short days away from my birthday and I have a serious case of the blues. I've been trying to shake them because everyone from here to the rocky beaches of Guam knows I love my birthday but I can't. Blues city, man. And the worst part is that my mopey attitude has nothing to do with my birthday. I just have this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and it's keeping me awake at night. I used to have this nag right after I graduated from Kent. I would wake up freeeeeaking that I had missed a class or forgotten an assignment or didn't study for finals. But school was over! I had my stupid diploma! WHY WAS I STILL SWEATING IT!?

I'm back in that place again but it's only partially about school. I am behind, I won't lie, but I was sicker than I think I've ever been. I've managed to schedule some make-up quizzes, etc., but it's all still bugging me. I feel like a failure right now. Plus, I'm feeling better but I'm STILL not feeling fixed. My body hates me and I hate it (I did like my smaller waist though). There's money issues, and new job issues, and boy issues, and home issues, and cat issues (Don Gato is sick and sick cats are expensive...plus, Lil' Shep needs to get fixed as that low moaning "cat in heat" sound is starting to emerge), and Pussyfoot issues, and Shark Attack! issues...and just issues. And I'm going to be 29 on Thursday and pretty much feel like a 29 year old child. I'm bummed. I don't want to ride the D-train.

I miss my friends. That doesn't help this ugh feeling that's taking over. I haven't seen anyone since...I don't know when. Sitting in a hospital gown with Johnny next to me (fully clothed) doesn't really count. I miss Carol. I really miss Becky. I'm terrified to start my new job next week and eventhough I've been DYING to get out of my most-recent ridiculous employment situation, it's contributing to my sinking feeling. I walked out on a job I've had for 3 years and eventhough I KNOW for certain it was the right thing to do, I still feel sore for some reason. I worked hard and was good and my job but I had a knucklehead for a boss so I'm angry...I had to leave because he couldn't give anyone security. Ugh and ick and BLATHER!

I thought retail therapy would help a little. I bought new sheets and a new quilt with some birthday gift card. Expanded my collection of tiny useless porceline trinkets and got a super swanky new shower curtain. Even bought some new drawers! Ooh la la. But it didn't really help. It just made me think about how I don't have enough money to buy any of the items I want from the Converse clothing collection at Target and how my sisters are real, grown-up, full fledged adults and I'm a scumbag. A scumbag who can't wait to eat Japanese food on Friday and chillax with her friends. Hopefully they can (at least temporarily) soothe this bottomless stomach feeling. Cause I can't stomach it anymore and running off to New York to live with John Krasinkski isn't an option...no matter how recently single and foxy he is.

Sometimes I think that you're avoiding me.

I'll be 29 in one week. Amazing. Usually I start the birthday countdown like one month in advance because I love my birthday so much. And I'm pretty excited for 29. I'm not sure exactly what I'm going to be doing on the big day...Bill had his kids and I have no plans besides taking a Intro to Sonography exam. I know that on Friday I'm going to have Japanese food (num num num) with some close pallies and then major cocktails with a larger group of close pallies (don't worry...I'll spread the where-n-when info later and if you can't make it, there's always my big shindiggity at The Sac in a few weeks!!). I'm probably not as wrapped up in my birthday this year since I left my place of emplyment after 3 years. It's sad. I met Bill there. Our life together started there. But it was a toxic place and now we're free. AND I've been HELLA sick so...I've had other things on my mind besides my birth. I've gotta get into my usual spirit of things. After all, it's my last year of being in my twenties!!!

And in case you haven't been keeping up with your daily My Space in take, here is the step-by-step, lo-fi low-down on what's been shaking with me health wise. You already know what happened after my FIRST trip to the medical chop-shop so I'll take you from what they changed my diagnosis to after my SECOND ER trip, and what is ACTUALLY wrong with me according to a lovely doctor who works in a fancy schmancy office building. I will tell you that as of now, I'm on a boring diet that has made me drop weight but has made me so weak, I throw up after car rides. It's rough, but I'm surviving. Enjoy my recent medicial history!

Sunday: My second trip to the ER (co-starring Johnny).

I spent a great portion of yesterday back in the Emergency Room. I chugged some banana Barium and I had a cat scan of my belly, the stole more of my blood and they pumped me full of fluids. Johnny was good company. The multiple hours we were there just flewwwwwwww by. Only three cool things happened while I was in my little hospital gown being poked and prodded:

1. The Cavs beat The Lakers.
2. There was blood and Johnny had to turn his head.
3. I left with painkillers.

The bad news? I don't think anyone knows what's wrong with me. Johnny said they were probably typing my symptoms into Web MD and not coming up with anything satisfying. Colitis, Gastritis, and some strain of Flu type A that is accompanied with horrific abdominal pain and is going around were all terms thrown on the table. My discharge papers said Gastritis. They're clueless. I saw so many doctors, nurses, dudes in scrubs that do some hospital job I'm not awre of.

And no one wore GLOVES! I was bleeding all over the damn place and NO GLOVES! Now my blood is clean and they know that since they're been sucking it out of me since Thursday but what about THEIR BLOOD!?!? Ick.

So as of now, I'm just supposed to let it...whatever it is...run it's course. Take my meds and rest, enjoy my liquid diet. I wonder if Pizza Hut could blend me up a pizza. Hmmmm.

Yesterday: My trip to see my new doctor (and she's AWESOME!).

I just have some abdominally crippingling and mind numblingly horrific virus. It's going around or so says my new doctor. She rocks, by the way. It's basically all bare bones: I have a terrible virus and my guts are having a hard time bouncing back from it. I'm probably trying to do too much too fast (like yesterday when I went to work to clean out my office and puked right when I walked in...I thought that was emotionally vomit). I threw up again at Bill's after I got home from the doctors. I'm just car sick from being weak and horizontal for so long and then trying to be up and out and about. If you can call being at the doctors "out and about".

Basically, I'm on the BRAT diet until a week from Monday (though I'm taking a sabatical for Japanese birthday food next weekend!!!). If you don't know, like I didn't, the BRAT diet is bananas, rice, applesauce and toast...in very, very tiny amounts. I can also keep partaking in the liquid diet. Anything see-through which includes but is not limited to Jell-O, ginger ale, broth. Boring. Yet slimming! Coupled with my yawner of a food selection, I have to get as much sleep as possible. I have to rest until I feel top notch. Score. So there you have it folks. I'm a dietary bore but eventually, I'll bounce back. Thanks for everyone's well-wishes and concerns. You're all aces in my book.

AND THERE YOU HAVE IT!

How did it end up like this?

I would love to tell all of y'all about the massive amount of fun Wigging Out at The Sac with The Pussyfoot Girls was. It was incredibly core shaking that we could fit so much fun into one night. I am in love with The Sac and what we're doing there. I wish it was time to go back already but alas, we need time to prepare. We're getting a lot of press recently. The Plain Dealer shot a video that appears on their blog and an electronic and print article from the PD comes out next week. They had nothing but positive things to say about the fun we're having. We're making new friends and contacts and building a pretty large fan base. It feels good. Good stuff.

You want to know what's NOT good stuff???

COLITIS AT AGE 28!!!

Basically, Colitis is a swelling of the colon tissue. It feels exactly like when my appendix burts and it's accompanied by all sorts of unattractive symptoms that for some reason just WON'T GO AWAY! I'm on 5 pills a day for 10 days and I'm as miserable as can be. The emergency room doc told me that if I don't feel better in 3 days to come back and I have a feeling that's where I'm headed tomorrow. All I've been doing is trying to sleep the days away once I get into a position that is comfortable enough for me to deal with the pain. The thing that's really razzing me is that I've been saying for weeks and weeks that I've had a stomache ache and haven't felt well and everyone's blown me off. It's very lonely to be sick.

Thursday at work I was in tears because the pain had become so intense. Bill picked me up from work and hauled me off to the hospital. There was an IV, IV medication, oral medication, blood work, urine samples and on and on. It was miserable. I was dizzy and freezing and just plain slug. They said the word colonoscopy (and endoscopy) and I was ready to run. I fear that's what will happen to me if I go back tomorrow. Frown. Oh fucking frown. Thursday night I stayed at Bill's and he was an excellent nurse. I slept almost the entire time I was there (and I slept over 14 hours last night and I'm STILL exhausted) but he pampered me with juice and lotto tickets and candy...eventhough I'm on a liquid diet. He made sure I had everything I needed and is making plenty of check up phone calls now that I'm home (I COULD have stayed there but when your intestines are in knots, you want your own bed, your own blankets, your own toilet). But I'm miserable over all.

Things aren't going so swimmingly at work and this is not the time to be physically struggling. I'm experiencing major discomfort and there's no one to help out at work because we're existing on a skeleton crew. I fear what I'll find there after missing 2 days in a row. That adds to my nerves. And school! I missed an entire day of school which just CAN'T happen...especially when one class only meets once a week. My heart is pumping too fast. And all I want to do is sleep and whimper.

So that's the story. As of right now, my pain fluxuates between a 7 and an 8. If I still feel rotten tomorrow, it's back to the ER to get sliced and diced. I'm hungry, I'm sore, I'm a little lonely, sort of bored, and my muscles are starting to ache from just being still and cold. Time for my scheduled 5 minute cry.

Don't forget about me in misery.

I won't apologize for acting out of line.

Before I start blathering about how I'm going berzerk after my first day of spring semester last night, let me just spew a few things in your grill. Carol's party was fun while I was physically and mentally in attendance. I spent so much time prepping that I didn't schedule a whole lot of sleeping or eating. Filling up my emptiness with alcohol was not wise. I retired early (by my own choice...I knew I was too drunk, I knew tossing was in my future, and I quit before I got stupid) and spilled my guts, literally. But I didn't miss the best part of th ebirthday celebration which was recuperation Sunday! I spent the day with close pals...we snacked, watched movies, napped, dished. It was great. It was what I needed. I could have done without the black eye and bubble guts but still. Balls out. If you know, you know.

Now the nightmare begins!

Spring semester started yesterday. I was jazzed and prepared. I was/am determined to kick-ass left and right, even if I am taking 6 classes. And I was totally into my Patient Care Skills class. It's the first time I've been in such an intimate setting...only 10 students. We learned hand washing techniques which was actually quite nasty. Glow-in-the dark germs...that's all I'm saying. No, wait. I need to add CREEPY! Still feeling good about things until we all start chatting with the instructor and I learn the following things (things responsible for my impending freakout):

1. The Physical Concepts class is going to be a nightmare and I have that class tonight. The failure rate is high and it's a pre-req. I was planning to kick-ass but now I have to REALLY kick it and risk some bangs and bruises. I'm scared. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't.

2. The program is full for 2008. They only take as many people as they have clinical spots for. I can't wait until 2009. I can't put my life on hold for that long. I'll feel defeated. I'll lose momentum. Sadly, I'm counting on people to fail the Physics so spots open up. I'm trying to stay optimistic.

3. 1 out of 5 Sonographers will sustain a career-ending injury. Ugh. Why am I doing this? Am I setting myself up to be damaged? 1 out of 5? That ratio means that 2 people in my Patient Care Skills class with sustain a career-ending injury. And I'm already clutzy! I'm doomed! Dooooooomed!

4. We were told that once we enter the program, we might as well plan on NOT having a life. Any free time should be spent studying, reviewing, learning. There's so much to take in and if you want to pass the registry test, you have to know it all. I don't want to be a person that has to take the exam twice. I want those letters after my name! The FIRST time I take the exam. So how do I balance all this learning/studying I have to do with working, Pussyfooting, relationshipping, and basic chillaxing?!?!? I can multi-task but DAMN!

So there you have it. It's barely half way through January and I'm trying to find a way to live up to 4 or 5 of my New Year's resolutions! I know this is a temporary freakout but I'm feeling rundown. I can't go into a really important semester feeling off-center and weak. I need to shape up despite the terror that has been instilled regarding Physics. I just need to buck up.

I hope I don't cry at school tonight!

They try to kick it. Their feet fall asleep.

I started rambling on and on about how excited I am for the party taking place at my house on Saturday. A majority of my ramble-n-blather revolved around how I could just orgasm over my newly sexified, partified, adrenaline-enducing basement (or "Boom Boom Room" as Ricky tastelessly dubbed it). But nothing I can put in to words can describe how much potential this par-tay has. And nothing short of being there can fill you up the way my basement can. It's just that powerful. It's like a hot pink, alcohol-filled, twinkle light-lit penis. Which is an image that both enthralls and terrifies me.

So many people will be there that I want to hug and rock with that I don't know how I will divide my time approproately. It's giving me some sort of brain pains. First off, Rocko-n-Roll is coming. I haven't seen him since Heavy Rebel and that should be some sort of crime. In fact, I'm going to petition to have the laws changed so it IS a crime that we both suffer for. There's no excuse for not hanging when he only lives in a neighboring state! And then there's Little Jenny Penney. I miss her so much that I could puke and die. It took awhile for me to accept that she really wasn't a Pussyfoot Girl anymore. That was my scheduled time with her! I got a weekly fix and she took it away. I'm still detoxing. I promised I would rape her the second she walked through the door. And I will. Emotionally.

And then there's the birthday girl...Carol Shoe-Lane. There aren't enough hours in the day for me to explain how kick-ass she is. And she's going to be 42! And I'm going to celebrate harder than anyone. And I'll probably pay for it harder than anyone, too! It will be worth it. We're starting our weekend early with a Chick Ditch Day! No work for either of us. We're going to see Juno, eat at Antonio's, but wigs for the next PFG show, and do any last minute party prep. I can't think of a better Friday. Unless it involved a hot pink, alcohol-filled, twinkle light-lit penis.

Wow. I thought I didn't have enough to rattle on about but hot dog damn, I've gone above and beyond and for way to long. I had plans to talk about my new microwave with it's soften setting and then there was a whole speech about UGG boots and my skin-tight dark blue jeans that Bill says look painted on (Levi's 501 paint! A dude I work with said that about my tight jeans a few years back and I still love it's visual symbolism). But I'll talk about those things another day! There's work to do. And parties to plan.

See all of y'all Monday if I don't see you Saturday! I love 2008.

Time, time ticking on me.

HAPPY 2008, you silly bastards! I'm already loving this year.

Now, as promised, I am going to blog your brains out this year. I slacked hardcore in 2007 but that's probably because it sucked Wolfman's nards. I'm so over 2007. I'm not saying that there weren't good parts. There were amazing parts. Heavy Rebel, Las Vegas, lots of races, lots of movies, lots of laughs. And lots of Japanese food!! But overall, 2007 was like one long and messy menstrual period. I should have seen that coming when I checked myself out of the hospital against medical advice just so I could have a party that was ruined by idiots and burst pipes. 2007 started with a toilet full of drunk people's hopes and dreams and I happily flushed them!

So here's to 2008 which is going swimmingly thus far but I don't want to jinx it. All I know is that my master plan is to wrap 2008 up saying that it was a mighty fine year. One for the record books, indeed. And I hope all y'all are with me in trying to make this leap year a winner. I'm too old for drama but not too old to radiate fun from every orifice. A lot of people didn't make New Year's Resolutions this year but I did. I made 10. 10 that are nice and tidy and hard to screw up and I plan to stick with them. Keeping them in mind will make my year even more hardcore rad. I really think y'all should stop being silly and make a resolution or two. Look at them as motivation to be awesome!

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION TOP 10

1. Kick major ass in schooly - I'm taking 6 classes (Intro to Sonography, Physical Concepts in DMS, Applied Algebra and Math Reasoning, Human Biology, Bioethics II, Patient Care Skills) and I'm still in the Honors Program. I want straight As. I want to blow minds! I want to eat your brain and grain your knowledge!

2. Avoid drama and dramaholics - This worked out well in 2007.

3. Invest as much time as possible in Shark Attack! Records and promoting HO59 - Shark Attack! Records has been a long time coming. I haven't been able to do as much as I've wanted because of school and finals being scheduled at the same time as the CD arrival. But I'm dedicated to kicking ass for the lable. I need to finish the website and then get as many Horror of 59 CDs out there as possible. It' a major goal.

4. Learn how to play my guitar and accordion - The guitar was an awesome gift and the accordion was the best thing I got out of the divorce. I told Tom that by year's end, our accordion band will play 3 songs and I plan to write 2 originals on my house-warming guitar. They'll probably be filthy or dumb.

5. Be as involved as possible with the PFG and Jump In The Sac - They both give me a reason to be scantilly clad and party. I owe them.

6. Get a new and more fulfilling jobby job - Working out the kinks in the ol' resume and hitting the dusty new job trail. I can't cry on my way to work. It's unbecoming and I refuse to cry because of my JOB! They're paying me big bucks to devastate me! I'm over it. Though I do like my office...

7. Use and abuse all my new workout equipment regularly - So far, so good. The bike is the best thing that's every happen to me. The new HUGE workout center thing-a-ma-bob that makes Curves useless to me hasn't arrived yet but when it does...hot cha cha! I'm planing on wearing really tiny shorts every day at Heavy Rebel. And tube socks. I'm getting crazy in 2008! Anyway, so far, I'm back to getting toned and I've dropped bread and soda so I'm on my way! I like to be foxy.

8. STRESS LESS - Plain and simple.

9. GET NAKED MORE - *blush*

10. Give everyone second chances and the benefit of the doubt - I'm followng one of those commandment thingies. I don't want people to judge me, especially people who don't know me very well. So I'm giving others the same courtesy. And people who have pooed on me in the past...well...I'm giving everyone a clean slate in 2008. The past is the past the the future looks bright ahead.

Good times! See you soooon!

My little baby gets psychomatic!

I can't believe I haven't blathered even one boring, goof-ball, time-wasting word in December so far. What a slow loris I've become. But that's OK by me, pally. They have perfectly round, fuzzy, rubbable, loveable butts! And they like napping. They're A-OK in my book. And if you don't know what a slow loris is...go to the zoo! They're always hanging out around the lights at the top of their tank in the Asian section. Get some cute culture.

One of my New Year's Resolutions in 2008 is to blog regularly. Word.

But for now...come to this. Come have fun. Come hang out with me.

Kids in Chicago and no time left for home.

Don't think I've gotten lazy. The exact opposite is true. I've become so busy having a life that blogging just isn't tops on my list. I love doing it, don't get me wrong. I love staying in touch with all my pretties out there. I love having years worth of babble recorded for posterity. I'm babbling right now, to be honest and I'm barely even paying attention to what I'm typing. In fact...am I done yet??

Work, school, Pussyfoot Girls, Shark Attack! Records, boyfriend, family, rinse and repeat.

I'll have more time to devote to blathering in the next few weeks. My first semester back to school with be up, our first show at The Sac will be over, the Horror of 59 CD will be rollin' along and I will be napping. Hardcore. Constantly. And working out with my new work out equipment. I'll be doing whatever I can to destress and detox. My new 4 beers or less limit is awesome. I don't miss being drunk. And I really don't miss being a drunk bafoon. Or the beer weight. Or the hangovers. I'm really looking forward to December 17th when I take my last final. And I'm actually looking forward to the holidays this year. Good life...buys life, but good...the best friends you could ask for...and some I didn't ask for OR expect...good guy...good heart, good intensions, sometimes a big dummy but improving...just good.

It's good when things are good.

See you when I'm not such a busy bee! Buzz, muthafuckas.

I've overcome the blow. Learned to take it well.

I'm about ready to romance your pants off.

Things have been pretty fudged up lately in my relationship. And I think it's been making me more physically ill than usual. Ear aches, nose bleeds, high blood pressure, tension headaches. I'm like walking death. And I've had one foot out the door as it is! Out the door, not in the grave. We're talking my boyfriend/girlfriend situation...not the chance that I might buy the farm in the near future. The chances that my relationship might be my cause of death is just another check in the con column of my pro/con list. Blather. But hey, this is my relationship. Quirks, snarky remarks and all. I've decided to keep both feet in and tuff it out. As 1980s hipster Howard Jones says...things can only get better!

So here's a hat trick of romance that will make no one weak in the knees.

Besides me.

1. Bill and I had a penny fight at work yesterday and it was incredibly fun and time consuming and made me love him despite how 5th grade it was. I hate nickles. Anyone who knows me knows this. When I have nickles, I throw them in his office and it drives him nuts because he is forced to pick them up, lazy ass. So he started retaliating with pennies. But not one penny. PENNIES! All over my office. So then I threw pennies all over HIS office. He countered with about 100 more and then locked himself in his office and taped the bottom of the door shut so I could slide mocking pennies under. What did I do while we was busy taping himself in?

I threw 100 pennies all over his unlocked car. I am now the champion! YES!

2. When I got home form a back-to-back session of work and school (including an A&P lab test that I aced...go me!), Puff told me he had a present for me upstairs. Now while I didn't find Burt Reynolds and Tom Selleck naked on respective animal rugs discussing whose facial hair was superior...which is what I was hoping for...I did find something pretty cool.

My first pair of scrubs!!!

He always said he would buy me my first pair and he did. They're all blue and professional looking and bad ass. I had a brief vision of myself doing an ultrasound on someone while wearing these beautiful blue scrubs! It was lovely. Until I remembered that I will also have to do rectal ultrasounds and not even my scrubs could save me from that!

3. After basking in the glow of my scrubs and the lingering glee from the morning's penny fight, my man made me a grilled cheese sandwich, french fries and milk at 11:00pm. He didn't make this milk. That would be terrifying for everyone. But it was a nice treat. It was a simple thing that reminded me that MY NOSE DOES NOT HAVE TO BLEED!

Thanksgiving is mere days away and my favorite people are coming over to scarf-n-chow-lounge-n-veg. And then there's Zombie Walk and the Horror of 59 CD release. And before you know it...The Hollibilly Ball! And we have a new Pussyfoot Girl! I can not contain the rapture!

But not the rapture in the Bible where everyone dies.

He takes off her dress now.

If any of you know me even an itty bit, you know that when I crush, I crush HARD. And usually I'm crushing on people that barely exist in any sort of tangible realm, like movie or television characters. Well, slap me in the face with a frozen fish, I have a crush on Jim Halpert. Big time. Now don't get me wrong...I love my fella and there's nothing better than drafting that dude. But if I were a swinging bachelorette...IF...I would be looking for a guy like Jim Halpert. Dippy haircut and all. You know, I really wanted nothing to do with The Office and now, 3 box set purchases later...oh Jim Halpert. You're the bees knees.

Heart...go...throb.

Had a Pussyfoot show on Friday. It was successful if you erase all the cookie tossing I did afterwards. The blindfold dance was mucho perfecto and I had a lot of fun out there in swinging Youngstown. But like the last 3 times I've drank...I ended up a wreck. It doesn't matter if I have 3 beers or 300, they're taking me out. I don't like playing the roll of obnoxious frat boy so I'm on hiatus, so to speak. I'm not throwing in the towel all together, I just need a break. I just need to shape up. I need to learn to stop at tipsy and avoid drunk. But sometimes I'm not even going for that! Sometimes it's a 2 drink night and you would have tought I stuck my head in a vat of malted hopps and baerly. So...I'm on the wagon for now. Besides my Thanksgiving Bellinis. I've been looking forward to those and I've been busting ass at work-n-school. Bring 'em on. After that...call me Designated Debbie until The Heptanes show at The Sac and even then...I'm setting a limit and I'm lovin' it.

That whole thing made me sound like a lush. I'm not. My tolerance is just shot and I'm not in high school any more. I actually have these little things like responsibilities and priorities. And PRIDE! And self-respect! I like to keep the few shreads I have left!

But at Carol's Birthday shin-dig...I WILL do shots from the spoon. Oh yes.

Yesterday Bill and I decided to stop being lazy old bums and went to the Food Expo. I should back track and say Bill and I were having a really rough go of it for awhile. I had one foot out the door and he knows it. But the past few days have gotten things back on the right track. I think he finally gets what he's going to lose if my get up and go gets up and goes and I go with it.

So now we're appreciating each other more and enjoying each other more. It's way more fun than being haters. We chilled all Saturday and he rubbed my feet while I nursed my hangover with French Onion soup. And the Food Expo was a blast! I MET DUFF GOLDMAN! I humiliated myself but it was pretty much on a dare. I was red as a tomato but it was worth it. We hightailed it home and watched Jimmie Johnson win his 4th race in a row...which was more exciting for Puffin...I was eyeball deep in Bioethics. It was a good day. It was a very Jim and Pam day.

I'm still really stressed out and on edge but I have a buddy now to help out. Rad.

Taste of a poison paradise.

I hate Brittney Spears but God bless her...she's fuels my need for celeb gossip!

It's Halloweeeeeeeeeeeeen! My favorite holiday (besides my birthday...an intense celebration of me). I don't have a rockin' costume this year and I missed the 2 Halloween shin-digs I was invited to. But that's alright. I have my trusty Snoopy as a vampire shirt and some adorable bunny ears. They'll have to do. I'll be the lazy, retired Playboy bunny. Lazy, retired and ill.

I called in sick to work for the first time all year because my lungs are S-H-O-T. Sleeping, coughing, wheezing, sleeping, cheese soup, The Office season 3, America's Next Top Modle cycle 4 and sleeping filled my day. It was a waste of a day off. It wasn't fun...like a senior cut day or anything.

The only plus to being a sick-o is that sometimes...your boyfriend packs you a grade school style lunch for work. Bologna sandwich, Pringles, a Jell-o cup and Sprite. All capitals. All cute. I'm enjoying the sandwich right now in the privacy of my office. I need to increase my energy since Bill and I are going to my mommy's annual Halloween event. I refuse to be in bed, wra;pped in blankets on Halloween. Not this year. No sir.

For anyone interested, Bill and I had a great birthday weekend. My planning was an utter success and it couldn't have gone any better. There are pictures and I will bore you with them soon. And you'll LOVE IT!

Busy as ever. My bioethics class started last Monday. Aced my first quiz. Yesterday I was too sick to attend my honor society meeting but I am going to set something personal up with the dean. I registered for spring semester...Patient Care Skills, Applied Algebra and Math Reasoning, Physical Concepts of Diagnostic Medical Imaging, and Intro to Sonography. Let's see if I survive. If I do, I'm buying myself an outfit from Trashy!

Is there life outside or school and work?? Megbo and I are planning a Niagara Falls trip! A girl's over-nighter if you will. I need the cool rush of Candian air in my face! And I need to drink a lot with my favorite girlfriends. And of course, I have 2 PFG shows this month (the 9th in Youngstown and the 30th in Akron). Plus there's all the "Jump In the Sac w/ The Pussyfoot Girls" planning...I can't BELIEVE we're performing with The Heptanes!!! Weeeeeeee.

Enough blather. Enjoy your 'ween.

Little dead are out in droves.

I couldn't possibly be stretched any thinner. It's impossible. I feel like those weird chinese noodles where the dudes start with one gigantic hunk of dough and after stretching-n-separating-n-stretching-n-separating, they end up with one thousand perfect (and long and THIN) noodles! That's me! I don't want to say I'm a Chinese man's noodle but...hey! And now not only and I stretched thin...but I'm seriously craving some noodles! Num num num.

The following is a list of things affecting my noodley state:

- Working (full-time)

- Schooling (full-time)

- Honors society (extra work-n-shtuff...but there are perks)

- Pussyfoot Girls (2 shows in November)

- "Jump In The Sac" (1 show a month)

- Shark Attack! Records (2 projects in the works)

Yeeeeeeeeesh! I'm going to go coo-coo bananas!

But while there's a lot going on, it's not like it's all a burden. Work pays the bills (bwahahahahaha...just wanted to make you all chuckle). School is rewarding. Honors society is an excellent opportunity that I've earned. Pussyfoot Girls are ever growing (t-shirts coming soon, new shows, new opportunities, new outfits from TRASHY!!!). "Jump In The Sac" is just one more way for the PFG to grow and a once-a-month opportunity for me to get themed-out and rock out. Shark Attack! Records was almost dead in the water so I am happy for the chance to make my little pet project flourish.

PLUS...tomorrow is Bill's birthday and I've gotta say, I wish I had a girlfriend like me! I started buying his presents months ago and if you know me, it's REALLY hard for me to not give a gift IMMEDIATELY. But I've held out and he's getting some k-rad new shtuff from his Snugglefoot. And I'm making a whole birthday weekend out of it. Tomorrow he's off work so when I get home, he can open gifties and then we're either going to Harry's Steak House and bowling OR to Chili's and a haunte dhouse (my first ever...there will have to be pre-spooking cocktail hour). Then Saturday we're leaving for an ultra-secret destination! I booked a room somewhere but he doesn't know where. He just knows to pack a bag and be ready to rock. I'll fill all y'all in when we get back. And when we DO get back on Sunday...the Atlanta race is on. What a weekend! What a woman!

So...I've babbled enough about how nutty everything us. Time to put my nose to the grindstone or whatevs. I will leave you with the very expensive outfits I plan to buy from Trashy! for various "Jump In The Sac" events. If you don't love them, you clearly have no taste, sense of adventure, or male gayness in your life! Life is good. Crazy...but good.

Old teenage hopes are alive at your door.

You know what the best medicine is? I mean, the most excellent remedy for whatever bugs you've got? Get a bunch of really cool kids toegther in your hot pink basement and do shots of Jaeger out of a giant, handcarved spoon to the popular song of your choice! And then spank people with aforementioned spoon until said sppon gets broken over someone's can! THERE IS NOTHING MORE FUN IN THIS WORLD THAN SHOTS OUT OF THE GIANT SPOON! SWEET LORD!

There's a video circulating out there of good times with the spoon.

Other than that, there is plenty I'd like to talk about...SCREAM about...but I won't. I don't really feel like talking OR screaming at this very moment though I very well could. I feel like napping. I feel like eating blueberry pie. I feel like watching "Surf's Up". I feel like "grabbing The Sac" with Carol. I feel like wearing my Shark Attack! Records sweat pants. I feel like itching my tattoo. I feel like telling y'all I've been invited to join the honors program at schooly. I feel like going away for Bill's Birthday weekend. And that about sums it up!

I love the way you way you call me 'baby'.

Life is muy bien, my puppies!

I'm refusing to be melacholy anymore. F "depressed" straight in the A. All I need to kick the blues in the side of the head is a spoonful of good old fashioned compassion and the company of any variety of Ol' Kentucky Sharks. Why didn't I figure this out weeks ago!? Small brain in a big head, I guess. So another successful weekend for the books has come to a close. My dance card was mondo full and I stretched the living bejesus out of every useable minute.

Friday I had dinner with mi familia after I added Bioethics to my already healthy schooly schedule. I injested so much garlic that I could have killed any vampires within a twenthy mile radius and that's exactly how I like it. Pungent. Leathal. Unfortunately, after just barely surviving a nasty stomach virus last week, vampirous amounts of garlic may not have been the smartest snack. I barely made it to the Corral before the cookie-tossing began. I put myself in the bed early with a stack full of flicks. Not bad!

Saturday I had to work...blather...and work was anything but f-u-n. I don't even want to remind myself of how ick it all was so I'll fast forward. I went to Target and loaded up on Halloween gear for my upcoming cool kids hang-out. Favorite purchase? Light-up porch spider, fo' sho. Then I met up with the loverly Carol Shoe-Lane for a girl's day out! We bought cups and lids for Halloween jell-o shots (I'm in college so it's aceeptable), treated ourselves at Crate and Barrel, and lunched at the Melting Pot! After a peach Bellini and a blackberry Margarita...I was goofy. I like lunchtime cocktails and gossip/shit talk with Carol more than anything. But the day didn't stop there! I had a dinner deal with Johnny Switchblade! We got take-out and wathced Knocked Up! I'll be honest...I got cranky towards the end. I had been up since the break-a break-a dawn, had recently been ill, and had another big day ahead. Again, I put myself in bed early with a stack full of flicks. Nice!

Sunday I high-tailed it to my aunt and uncle's farm. We all hung out in the burning hot sun but it was worth it. My family actually keeps me sane when they aren't busy driving me batty. My nephew was so amped just to jump in the mucky pond that it made the whole day worth it. He smelled lovely after all the tomfoolery was said and done. I used to swim in that pond...with the nasty mud squisking beneathe my feet and the fish brushing against me...and undoubtedly the monsters who live on the bottom sneaking a peak! Thinking back on my swimming hole days...EEEEW! I'm such a wuss now. I left the farm for the hood and watched the rest of the race with Puff. Crashed, dinner, hanky panky, cartoons. Weekend, out!

Watch "Pushing Daisies". I'm in love with it. And eat "Brownie Batter" ice-cream. STAT!

Now I am saved...now I am FREE!

I'm in a piss poor mood. I couldn't come up with any other clever way to describe my mood. It's poor. It's a Grade-F meat mood. And I'm getting more and more negative because I had a high class weekend and then everything went straight to Chatanooga (my idea of Hell). I have a nasty mug on. Good thing my office has a door because I might feel like slamming it in some people's faces today. Hmph.

As for my k-rad weekend, it all began rolling at an art show where my mom works. Carol and Bill accompanied me and we bought art, had cocktails, mingled, and ate the best beef on a stick I've ever had! Beef...a savory, marinated, slice of Heaven. And it's like upper-crust Heaven where the winners chill if it's on a stick. It was something different to do and I had a blast. Puffin and I had a quiet dinner together after (it was quiet because I was practically asleep) and hit the bricks. The evening was pleasant. I felt very posh. And all these people kept telling me how great I looked. Stylish and tall. Word.

Queen B came to visit. I needed her company more that I knew. We spent a lovely lunch together and had lots of girl talk. I love girl talk almost as much as I love gossip. Sometimes they are one and the same. Then we had a sensational dinner with the Shoe Lanes who are two of my favorite people on the planet. After that, sadly, we went to Club Ice! Grimm won the right to have a party there so we partied...sort of. It was fun to do something different. I, however, will never go back to Club Ice...no matter how much I want to go to Wiener World for a quickie wedding and a hot dog.

In the morning we hit the Original Pancake House (damn, we did a lot of chowing down), home of the bacon pancake! I was really sad to see Becky go. But I barely DID see her go because my eyelids were temporarily made out of cement! I spent the rest of the day in a hangover-free coma. I made myself into a buttiro warapped in brand new sheets and crashed. It was like a blurry version of Heaven. I love sleep. I wish I could do it all day, every day for a month. Maybe then I wouldn't be such a sourpuss. So...despite some relationship tussling...the weekend was a success.

YET HERE I AM! SURLY AGAIN! BLATHER!

Work is giving me an ulcer. School is giving me cranial ouchiness. Boyfriend is giving me frown lines. I shouldn't be complaining, really. I have the bestest pals ever and they give me the warm fuzzies. My family is pretty nifty, too. Characters, one and all. And I have a job, a house, a car, Ben & Jerry's in the freezer and all the supplies to make another pot of cheese soup. I'm rocking school like it's nobody's business. I'm going to see They Might Be Giants with Carol next month. I have a boss new Shark tattoo. My DVD collection is MAMMOTH. I should be happy...right?

Someone rub my head, please.

You remember me. I have been here always.

I saw a shirt with a man pushing a lawn moved that said, "I wish my lawn was emo so it would cut itself". I didn't buy it but I did appreciate it. Not because I am or ever was a cutter because I am not and never was. It's because I am a sucker for a novelty t-shirt!

Right now, I owe the very fine threads of sanity I am hanging on by to my 4 very bestest pals in the whole universe. That sounded very My Little Pony or Care Bears-esque but I can deal with it. Without them, shucks, who knows where I'd be? Probably all gothed out, listening to AFI's new emo-centric album...or maybe some cry-baby, shoe-gazer jams. I'd probably be just laying on the couch counting my bed sores. But I'm not sulking anymore. I'm doing my best to live it up. I only get one life as far as I know. I want to sleep comfortably in my coffin.

Enjoy these love notes and then vomit all over at your leisure.

****************************************************************************
Dear Johnny Switchblade,

I have no one to thank more than you so I'm putting you on top. I figured you'd get feisty if I didn't. Thanks for being so k-rad. Thanks for stuffing your face full of Japanese food (and various other foods) with me. Thanks (in advance) for coming over for "Knocked Up/Take Out" night (and various other food and movie functions). Thanks for the oodles of goofy text messages and constant wit slinging. Thanks for forcing me to listen to "Don't Look Back In Anger" twice in one evening. Thanks for the muffin joke...and other bouts of side-splitting hilarity. Thanks for ripping ass a little less and being a fraction less gay. You're my favorite accessory.

See you in Portland.

Holla,
Deborah Huffington-Straussmeyer
*****************************************************************************
Dear Carol High Hair,

This past weekend was pretty much just what I needed to back up my ass onto the right track again. The show was swell but Friday (post-hangover) was better and this weekend might even top it all off...like that cupcake frosting we orgasmed over. You let me babble my hungover head off all the way to Pittsburgh and I needed it. Everything I do is a little bit more fun if you're there. Even my roasted tomato soup tasted better in your presence! Yeah, Friday was pretty much an ideal day. I slept well that night. I owe it all to you. My chest, despite my big jugs, felt lighter after you let me unload.

Where have you been all my life?

"Wah Wah!" for eternity,
Patricia Cake
******************************************************************************
Dear Queen B,

I should have tied a rope around your leg to keep you from high-tailing it to C-Bus. Why!? Why didn't I try just a little harder!? Regardless, I'm sure you already know this due to many nights of me losing my mind and faculties in your presence, but I owe my life to you. I wouldn't have survived 3/4 of the things I did without your help and unfailing friendship. Hell, I owe you a house in the Hamptons just for making me eat and brush my hair after that whole silly divorce nonsence! You are the person I wish I could be more like (without eating all that funky food...and there's that whole "hippie" thing). I can't wait to see you on Saturday!

Thanks for being my life-preserver.

xoxoxoxox,
Lula
*********************************************************************************
Dear Puffin,

You are without a doubt the biggest pain in my can. I constantly want to kick you in the shins. But I've never been as "in" a relationship as I am with this one. All the little (good) things add up to erase all the can pains and shin kicking. You've really been there for me in recent weeks (besides that one messy incident...jerk) and I apprecaite that so much. I appreciate the post-school dinners and shark pops, most. And you've put up with me being a total crabby pants (and have snapped out of it quickly when you had your crabby pants on). I know we both have a lot going on so it's hard to step back and put the other person first. Thanks for stepping back recently. I promise I'll make it up to you (get your mind out of the gutter, pervert).

I should probably thank Phoebe for helping me find you. Note to self.

I love you,
Snugglefoot
********************************************************************************

RESUME REGUALR SNARKINESS NOW!

She just wants to be somebody's only one.

en·nui (noun): a feeling of utter weariness and discontent resulting from satiety or lack of interest; boredom: The endless lecture produced an unbearable ennui.

Yeah. Ennui. Ennui all over the place. It's like a plague. A pox. I can't shake it and no amount of ice-cream (even Ben and Jerry's Cinnamon Buns) will help. Like I said, work, school, sleep, repeat. I've managed to fit in some Pussyfooting without going berzerk. It was rough though. I just want to shut my mind off for an unlimited period of time. Right now, for whatever reason, anything and everything feels like a drag. Even eating. Even BEER. I'm having such a rough go...can't seem to stop counting the minutes before I can go back to bed. 870 sounds right.

I don't want to say I'm depressed. So I'm up to my eyeballs in ennui instead.

The only things I can even stand to attempt to wrap my mind around are whether or not dale Earnhardt, Jr.'s stepmother would be evil enough to sabotage his engine and why an elderly copule has been living at an Travel Lodge for 22 years. I think I also can rewind the series finale of Gilmore Girls and watch Luke and Lorelai smooch a few times. That's all I can handle. Mindless and meaningless. Even L.A. Ink was too much for me and that's about as shocking as a rolling pin up your can. Cause mndless and meaningless? Shooooooooot.

I've had to be at work at 5:45 daily since my warehouse manager got his head stomped on which resulted in a gazillion staples in his neck and a wired-shut jaw (he looks TUFF). I've already had 2 quizzes this week (for which I gained an A and a B, respectfully) and I have a 100 question exam today...cross your fingers that my mind temporarily stops swimming. I have to complete my solo dance for the Pussyfoot show next Thursday, not to mention work on a blind-fold dance with Karen and I'm all out of money moves.

And I'd like to have SOME FLIPPING FUN SOMETIME!!!

But it's only Wednesday. Fun is not allowed to start any earlier than Friday. Fudge.

Just when I thought I could stand on my own.

Sorry for being a dud. I've had a lot going and a lot to gab about but honestly, I jsut haven't had the will power or energy or even the desire to fill you in. Lame, I know, but that else is new? I'll give you the quick and painless version of my life but it's going to be a little less bang for your buck. Sorry if you feel slighted or disappointed but that's how it is. Man, I can't even tell if I'm angry or depressed today and I forgot to wear my mood ring. Shucks.

Work is work. Actually, work is painful. I'm not going into any wordy detail because I hate wordy people. If you cut out the amount of adjectives and fancy shmancy literary jargon that people use to try and appear smart, you'd probably realize they have nothing to say. So...work sucks. Simple as that. But I get a fattish paycheck so...yeah.

School is school. School is actually good. I really like my Anatomy and Physiology lab. I feel like I'm really learning shtuff. The endoplasmic reticulum is so my bitch! Math makes me feel like a dummy but I've always been a math dummy. Luckily, I'm not the olderst person in the class. But I'm not the youngest either which also rocks. These little girls with braces and white belts make me chuckle. Anyone who wants to flash me flashcards and increase my brain size over ice-cream, holler.

My relationship is currently kind or irritating. It's such a roller coaster that I might as well not even talk about it. But I will just to make you sick. I love the man and had a fancy tropical vacation with him but damn, I am just doing too much of the work. I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to feel so lonely when I've been seeing someone for a year and a half (2 and a half if you want to get technical and morally wrong about it all). And sicne I know this relationship will never lead to marriage or kids and we don't even live together yet (and probably won't any time soon since my fun stuff clashes with his hotel room, minimalist motif)...I don't know. My mind is all over the place. Jackson Pollack painting up in here.

Pussyfoot Girls are stressing me out. Jen is out...again...so that leaves us to 3. Is this even fun anymore? I can't even tell. That's not good. We havea show with Bob Log III and Uncle Scratch's Gospel Revival which is our first show after an almost 2 month hiatus. I should be more excited...especially is the lovely Lisa will be there. Why am I so blah about the whole thing? Why do I feel like throwing in the towel?

My life = work, school, sleep, repeat.

The board of education took away my parole!

Back to work and back to school all in one day! Sheeeeeeeeeeesh.

I guess I'll start with vacation...all I ever wanted. I actually sang that song at karaoke one drunken night. It was freeing to a certain degree while also being humiliating and crippling. Regardless. Due to damn Hurricane Dean (which did tug at my Gilmore Girls heart strings, though I had always prefered Jess and even Logan towards the end) we ended up in the filthy Bahamas instead of beautiful Mexico. Balls. But Key West...hot dog, I loved it there.

I just realized that I don't want to type anymore right now.

STAY TUNED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I will edit this when I get home from work/school.

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...