She will shine like a new girl.

Yesterday will very well go down as one of the worst days of my life. I'd be willing to write the date down on a list in my own blood. It felt very much like when my husband left me. Same physical and emotional effects, but worse. I didn't leave my bed. I sat in the dark in silence for the longest time. Finally, I decided to at least put on a box set so I wouldn't just be alone with my thoughts. Never got around to eating anything though. That's typical when I'm emotionally riled up. It's been about...38.5 hours since I had any real food. My appetite took a hike. I actually sat there thinking, "How did I end up here? What a mess."

I'm not going to go into the blood-splattering gore. Just know it was a nightmare of a day. And the nightmare revolved around my relationship. We didn't break up...maybe we did, but we're together now. We're in it for life like we've always been. I really wish I could tell the whole story so I can explain but thinking about it all too much will just hurt me. I'm too cool for all this pain. I don't deserve what I got. And I think the people involved know that's true. Anyway, I'm currently invested in getting us back to where we were. Todd-n-Lacey vs. The World. We'll get there. Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets.

So there you have it! I'm done pouting. I'm done weeping! I've got my backbone BACK! My heart is a little worse for the ware but he'll fix it. He promised. I know that yesterday turned me into a person I couldn't even look at in the mirror but it was only temporary. I just have to shake this nervous feeling that's looming. He told me that won't go away in a day and he's right. He knows what he did wrong. I know what he DIDN'T DO at all. There's no point in talking about this anymore. I just wanted anyone who was worried about me to know...you can still worry. But I think I'll be OK, eventually.

Love all of your guts!

I want to start a new life
With my valuable hunting knife
She will shine like a new girl
And I want to shout out our love to the world (Hit it!)

Everything I think about, I think about...
Everything I talk about, I talk about with you
But you don't know what I go through
You don't know

Days, they will turn into nights
But my valuable hunting knife
It will not rust through the tears
And it will not lose its appeal over years (Come on!)

Everything I think about, I think about...
Everything I talk about, I talk about with you
But you don't know what I go through
You don't know

I'll never know
I'll never know
And then I will run
And then I will. . .
And then I will hide
And then I will. . .
And then I will run
And then I will. . .
And then I will hide

Bow in the presence of greatness.

As you may have noticed, avid readers, I deleted yesterday's blog. I have only deleted 2 other blogs since 2001. I shouldn't have but did. What I had to say should really be said face-to-face. So I'll make that happen if I have to. I am NOT a person who is only tough on paper. Anything I said, I'd say to someone's face. So...putting that one to bed. I'm done with it.

In lighter, fluffier, cuter news, I am building the "BEST BACK SEAT" trophy for this year's Dragway 42 Rock-n-Race!!! I made my request to Jim and he was all about it. Not only will I be building the trophy and entering it in "BEST TROPHY" contest. Then I get to actually judge you will get the trophy for "BEST BACK SEAT". I told Todd about my design plan last night and he seemed really pumped about it. Than made me feel pretty boss. It's good to have art projects to do (yes, Potsie, your 2 paintings are top priority...even over Todd's Munny which he's been waiting for since...April...boy, I'm delayed).

Anyway, I really want to win "BEST TROPHY" but I'm not holding my breath. Can't wait to test out all those back seats! I need to develope some sort of criteria for how they will be judges. As I've said, it's best back seat as in Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge. Hubba, hubba. Where's my bra? Is that the cops!?! I figured if the car passes the visual test (I'm not getting a spring up thisbackside...it's a hot commodity), I will then crawl back there and see how awesome I feel. If I feel awesome and the car is still qualified...well...that's where the criteria list is still in the developement stages. I have 5 weeks to get my bullet points down.

And of course...the 3rd Saturday of the month is straight ahead so it's time to Jump In The Sac with The Pussyfoot Girls! Per usual, doors are at 8:00, bands (4 this month...YOWZA) are at 9 on the dot. The theme is GET TANKED so wear a tank top of wife beater for drink specials. Cocktail Shakers, Death By Rodeo, Thunderthighs, Switchblade Saints, and of course, the lusty, busty Pussyfoot Girls. I just wanted to rhyme lusty and busty today. We're not that full of ourselves, yo. DJ Erin from "Hot Trash" will be spinning tunes. I'm be cruisin' around (but not getting drunk...putting beer on the back burner cause I haven't been feeling like myself lately) so come say HELLO! Shake my paw.

I really wish I had some Wacky Mad Libs. Sigh...

I heard your heart beating true.

I don't even know what I feel like saying today. I'm half hyper and my motor is really revving and I'm half exhausted and need to shove some toothpicks up in these lids. Neither is helping me feel very settled right now. It's a weird and sort of uncomfortable combination. Probably not the prime time to empty my brain on the page for posterity but whatever. In hind-sight, I guess I'll want to have record of every kind of day I lived. Right now, I'm bored, hot-in-the-pants, and struggling to function, all while being highly annoyed by a dinosaur-sized house fly (that isn't in my house). In my book, that's blog time!


We're packing up the Cat-Mobile (I use to call it "Earl" but I'm sort of over that title. Earl was my friend. He is my friend. And he's big and black, like my car...but I haven't seen him in awhile and the novelty has worn) on Saturday and trucking on down to Toledo for the "Makin' Junk Run" car show, following in the footsteps of Grimm-n-Jim. RUN ON SENTENCE! YOWZA! Anyway, I really need this right now. I need some one-on-one time with Todd outside of the bedroom and off the couch, just for a little while. I think he needs some fun and I think I'm the girl he should have it with. G-Rated, X-Rated, whatever. I can't reach in an massage his brain...without bloody and lethal consequences...so I'm going for an alcohol-fueled, rockin'-out sort of remedy. I suspect positive results.

And before we ditch down like those 2 outlaws in that Steve Miller song...by the way, I just recently learned that after they store the money, SHE stole it from HIM..., we're going to see Miss Firecracker One Woman band on the west side and THEN going to see Cult of the Ps...ARRRRRRRRRRGH! I just massacred that house FLY! Fluids were FLYING! It reminded me of being in bed with Todd, but only slightly more gruesome. I usually don't want to vomit after a good tussle. BLECH! I hate flies. Where was I? Cult of the Psychic Fetus is opening for my pals and yours (maybe not YOURS)...Sasquatch and The Sick-a-Billies! Who's psyched??? THIS GUY!

I don't really even feel like talking about anything any more after the fly incident. I can see him in my garbage can and one of his buddies is circling. Plus, every time I talk about how stoked I am for the weekend...something blows up in face and I just can't take that kind of let down right now. I want to sleep in, I want cocktails, I want to rock out, I want to smooch, I want to hold hands, I want to wear my FORD tank-top, I want to hug Natalie, I want to watch Dave drool, I want to paw old cars, I want to cruise with the tunes on (OOH! Road trip set list has to be made tomorrow!!! Not that Toledo is far...or awesome...), I want to have hotel sex, I want to NOT have a hangover. I want a lot. I just want to have some fun. And I want Todd to have fun. And F-U-N quotient looks promising.

I just decided right now that I'm going to document the whole weekend in pictures. Did I mention it's a long weekend that's starting in 20 minutes?!? You guys are in for some photographic treats come Monday, let me tell YOU! Yeah...I'm smiling right now. The only thing that would make this weekend better is if I uncontrollably burst out laughing during sex which prompted Todd to do the same. Oh WAIT. Let me try again...the only thing that would make this weekend better is if I had a tattoo instructing me on how to use chopsticks tattooed on my forearm. But that's coming soon. What WOULD make this weekend better???

Hmmmmmmmmmm.

Just to think, you were just passing by.

I just looked down at my calendar to see what the countdown was until we leave for Heavy Rebel (24 days, bitches) and almost threw up all over it. This week in my little life is jam-packed solid like sardines in a can! Like clowns in a clown car! Like genitals in a porn star's holes! Yeah, I grossed myself out with that one. Feel a little dirty now. Walk it off. Anyway...Yikes! Stripes! I'm going to actually need to schedule time to shower and sleep at this rate! I guess it's better to have a full dance card than be a wallflower. Or something sappy like that.

Today: Work on new PFG routine.
Tuesday: PFG practice.
Wednesday: Delivering fliers and JITS meeting.
Thursday: Iron Maiden at Blossom.
Friday: Miss Firecracker AND Sasquatch shows!
Saturday: Company picnic thing and Jen's party.
Sunday: Father's Day.
Monday: DROP DEAD!!!

This isn't really sex. This isn't really life.

John "Dynomite" Jackson once refered to masturbating as "having a Battle Royale with your nether regions". I thought that was probably the most profound and entertaining statement of my lifetime. And I've heard A LOT of mind-blowing things. I do watch Adult Films, from time to time. I felt the need to capitalize that...Adult Films...because to me, they are cinematic genius! I could tell you a story about a girl painted in all silver spending some time with a unicorn and a guy in a ballerina costume but I don't want to set your brain a'blaze. Why all the smut?

Spring Fever is raping my brain!

I can not stop thinking dirty. Not even DIRTY, per say, but I can not stop thinking about Todd. And I'm all filled up with butterflies as if I just met his ass yesterday. Butterflies and dirty, that's what's filling me up right now. I can tell I'm blushing. I can feeeeeeel it! My mouth is dry and my heart is pounding. In fact, one of the things that is occupying my thinking happened just last night. We were chest to chest and silent for a long time, catching out breath and he asked me what I was thinking about (always sex-ay). What was I thinking baout, honestly? I could not tell which heartbeat was his and which was mine. I have to stop thinking. I have to put all thoughts of Todd out of my head or I will not make it through this day. I love that fucking weasel so it's hard to stop. Hard to quit. Think about baseball. Think about baseball.

Literally.

The weekend looks like it has some potential despite the fact that my big ass is officially in da poor house. After a MAJOR financial set back at home and a major financial set back at work, there is nothing in my wallet but moths. Nothing. Not even a condom I've been harboring since high school. I was supposed to go to the Spook Show but that's been scrapped. After this anal-rape of a week I've had, I can NOT just sit home and stew. I don't want to be miserable and sad! I'm the cheerleader! I'm the fixer-upper! So here's what I'm 'bout to do:

Tonight I am going to sit in the sweltering heat and watch my nephew play baseball. He asked me to come to his game and he's almost 19 so this is most likely his last year with the city. So there I'll be. It's free. Following that, I'm going back to his house to swim because I will be on fire, the water will be icy, and there will be beer and food, care of my sister and her hubby. FREE! And then I will chill...dirty style...with Todd. Friday...check!

Saturday...Spook Show day, sniff...Johnny and I are having our second official drinking contest day! We had it once during that horrific snow storm where no one could go anywhere...yet Tom and Carol managed to walk to a bar, my heroes. The official start time is 1:00p and we're going to see who can consume the most in a 12 hour period. You can pace yourself if necessary. All that matters is who is left standing (or laying or throwin up) in the largest pile of empties. We'll watch movies and eat food. It will be almost virtually FREE. Almost. I am the reigning champ so I intend to win. You'd be stunned how much beer you can consume if you wear pajama pants all day. Gives you room to bloat. Saturday...CHECK!

Sunday is for pure recovery. I'm going to watch the race. I might cook chicken. I might clean my closet. I'll probably be an utter sloth, glued to the tube. Maybe I'll ride my bike. I should probably work on Karen's paintings. I should for sure finish the great basement project of 2008. I should certainly pay a little more attention to my recent head injury. As of right now, Sunday is wide open and oozing with possibilities. All of which ARE or MUST BE free...cause mama in the poor house.

So that's life. Filthy. Lovin' it.

Not lost but gone before.

Emotions. Can I get rid of them? Can I feed them to your snake? Will your snake eat my emotions? When Karen and The Tigers put out their death metal album, I hope there is a song on it called, "Will Your Snake Eat My Emotions?".

Going to see The Breeders tonight. I wasn't really that pumped about it to be honest (sorry, Johnny) but their new album is amazingly good. Especially the song "German Studies". I hate how the German language sounds (sorry Germans), maybe because I can't speak it and anyone I know who TRIES to speak it sounds like their on the verge of hacking up lungs and tossing guts. Not attractive. No desireable. This song, this album...good stuff. Now I'm pumped.

I woke up early this morning and had breakfast with Todd before he went to work. I've only done this twice but both times, I've missed him twice as much during the day which is annoying. Like getting carbon fiber on your skin. Oh the agony of having those little black fibers on my HANDS!!! Nightmare. Total and utter.

Regardless...Todd and I had some ruff-n-rocky spots this week which were about as annoying as the aforementioned carbon fabric. But we're back to being total knock-outs. I guess if you don't have a brawl or a spat every now and again then you won't be inclined to send your girlfriend texts that say, "Have I told you lately how much I'm in love with you?". Knocks my socks right off. Every day.

Told my mom I felt queasy. Hates it. Makes her nervous.

Feelign queasy makes me nervous also. GULP!

I look at you. Looks like everything's better.

Today feels like the Titanic is sinking all over again. Why can't the boat just SINK!? Why can't the day just END!? Crabby? Yeah. I'm a little crabby. I'm a little concerned. And I'm a little sexually frustrated. All these things together do not make for a tasty and effective cocktail. They make for a mother-trucking TIME BOMB! I want to get in my car, listen to Teen Idols REAL LOUD, and just be fucked-up for awhile. I tried to address what's bugging me but I got what I like to call "The One Word Fuck You"...one word answers or short, infrequent blow-offs. Nothing was addressed. My skin is still crawling. Don't get me wrong. I'm not mad at anyone. I'm just irritated. It's like wetting your pants and then being forced to sit in your wet pants. I'm not talking diaper rash or anything. I'm talking full-on adult sitting in wet panties...clingy wet drawers. That's my level of annoyance currently. I wish I had "Let's Make Noise" on my I-Pod. I would blast that jam until 480 got shakey.

I'm going out tonight and that's that. I want to be my old, rock-n-roll, Sharky self. I'm gonna get dressed, get tipsy and rock out. Even if I have to do it alone. I used to go to shows alone. I used to go to shows all the damn time. One year I saw over 100 DIFFERENT bands! Where have THOSE days gone? Why have I sacrificed so much of myself and what I love? I'm not one thousand years old. I can go out on a work night and just be awesome. Not worrying what other people are thinking and doing. I'm screwing up left and right in certain aspects of my life. I know this. Shark Attack! Records? Fuck. I threw up all over that because I let personally issues fuck up my goals. And school? Suckah, please. What happened to the version of me that DIDN'T GIVE A FUCK!?!?!?!

That's who I am today. I'm that girl. I'll wear my Lost Sounds shirt to prove it.

How do you like me now?

Who do I do this for...HEY...me or you?

"They" say absence makes the heart grow fonder. I say that absence makes your heart take on a life of it's own which sometimes includes trying to escape from inside your chest cavity using brutal force and prison weapons. I think absnece makes your heart want to commit murder and run wild in the streets spewing jello-y blood and guts! The absence that my heart had to endure (endure...like I was being tortured rather than on a bad-ass Disney World vacation) from Thursday until yesterday was pure agony on that tuff, little, bloody muscle! But it's back to thumping and pumping as it should and no lives were lost. No injuries sustained. Important realizations were made though. I really, truly am in love. Not that I had doubts before (NO DOUBTS). I'm a lucky ducky to have a fox like Todd and I know it...his hotness is just a perk though...it's what's gonna on inside that gets my motor revving. But the separation...no matter how small...just solidified the fact that I am going to spend the rest of my life with him. I want to cover his face in saliva until death.

Now that the mush and gush is out of the way...

Family vay-cay was a blast and a half, like doing a shot of expensive Vodka and having someone punch you in the face! Sure, I got too much sun and tossed my cookies and yeah, I miss Todd so much that I went all zombie a few times, and blah, I missed a Pussyfoot show that went really well...but it was really amazing. I got to ride Tower of Terror (after a beer and a milkshake...dummy) and the Haunted Mansion (twice), I saw the Little Mermaid show, we ate in Japan at Epcot, I had a German beer and French martini, I shopped, I swam, I got in quality time with my little nieces and nephew. It all was good stuff...stuff that life-long memories are made of. One of my FAVORITE memories made on this trip will be when my boyfriend who loves me sent me drunk text messages telling me how much he HATED ME for leaving him. The one that said, "HATE! HATE! HATE!" may have very well be my favorite. I hope we can print all those affectionate sentiments on our wedding invitations!

37 days until Heavy Rebel. My heart is purring in anticipation.

You have a thousand things in front of you.

I'm not getting all Carrie Bradshaw on you asses but when are things too good to be true? I'm currently text flirting with my own boyfriend! That's so damn silly and yet whenever his name pops on my screen, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I get ants in my pants (at least, I hope they're ants and not, like, Herpes). Some "people" have been worried that I'm going to overthink how good things are (due to a past that pretty much makes me want to projectile vomit clotty blood in your face) and flip like a stack of pancakes. Well, "people" (a.k.a. Phee-Bizzle), I'm not flipping. No flapjacks here. I'm appreciating every little second of this relationship to the best of my effed-up ability. I'm drinking it in like a would a frosty cocktail. This guy...my guy...is so good for me that I MUST believe I did something right in this life or another. Maybe when you take as many emotional sucker punches as I have and keep getting back up...you're bound to get dealt a good hand. Too many analogies? Boxing? Poker? I don't know. My brain is tired and I'm rambling. I'm just all lovin' on Todd and I want this in print because I don't doubt that something gruesome will happen in some other aspect of my life and I want to remind myself that I've got somethign good going on. And that good thing isn't going anywhere. He promised.

Now that I'm done shooting love out of all my sockets and onto your eyeballs, I can say that this was a phat weekend and it has me all exhausted. Even my hair is tired. And I said "phat". That's what happens when your brain needs a nap. I was going to list off all the amazing things I did this weekend but blather, rot, kill, die. I just don't feel like it. I feel like putting on pajamas, making myself a cacoon and sleeping until my weasel...weasels. We took the best nap together yesterday. Our FIRST nap after a ball-kicking-good breakfast with all my besties. It was one of those moments where my belly was fully, my body was tired, and I thought, "I can't possible be any more comfortable or happy than I am right now". Unless of course my skin was made out of pajamas. Luckily, I'm leaving for vacation on THURSDAY!! Unfortunately, it's the kind of vacation that you come back exhausted from. Drat. But I'm going to make sweet love to every minute of it.

I have to interject and say...I smell a hot dog.

Regardless...the entire time Todd and I have been dating, we've only slept apart ONE TIME and that was Friday and it was miserable! It was like being scalped. Or having my ovaries removed by demons. It was like the robotic wolves had been starved to the brink of death and were slowly picking me apart. It was a nightmare. I don't want to sound all girly but...it was a nightmare. And I've got 4 nights alone in a hotel room coming up. Nightmare! I either suspect carnage or cocktails. In bulk. So...yeah, an entire docu-blog on how mind-blowing and vag-quaking my boyfriend is. I am almost 30 years old, for screaming bloody murder out loud! I guess I should be thankful that I can still feel this way, right? That my heart hasn't turned into chrome? Yeah. Shut the Hell up, dummy.

What's the name? What's the game?

I'm starting to be a firm believer in the theory that boys always get their periods. Sure, they my not gush jello-y gunk from their junk, but man, some of the dudes I know can get moodier than bitches! I know I sounds thuggish but I theorize about my theory and I roll with the words that come out, no matter how thuggish-ruggish. So as I've been living through these male menstrual moments, I've decided that if I am this nutso when I'm shedding my uterine lining, I might as well just go into hiding because I must be BATTY! Anyway, boys, take some Midol (which is the best way for Ben to cure a hangover, or so I hear) and chillax. It'll all be over soon, I promise. And if not, you're going to get one of posterior paws up your rear...since you are vag-less.

What did this story MEAN? It means that boys are confusing and therefore my brain hurts.

You know what cures a hurty brain? A visit from one of your besties that you haven't seen since BEFORE X-Mas. I've been a bad friend and deserve to have my hand smacked. Maybe my face, too...lightly. Maybe you could give my hair a little tug, too. This paragraph is starting to lose it's PG rating. Regardless, Queen B is coming in and we have 24 hours of non-stop rockin' and rollin' "Punch Drunk Summer" style. We're going to sit around and gossip like chicks do for awhile, then I'll be getting my 'do done did for Ladies Night at The Sac, then we'll be chowing down Japanese-stylie (!!!), of course there will be pre-show grooming to do as I turn from Lula into Patti Cake, and then we'll be doing it up at The Sac! Not only do I lurve drinking with Becky...but she has NEVER seen The Pussyfoot Girls before! INSANITY! I predict there will be shots, beers, shots-n-beers, dancing, hugging, and hangovers. And FLAPJACKS! Life is good when Becky is around. Nothing seems THAT BAD when she's here spreading the love around. Don't make that sentence dirty or I'll bust your mug.

So I have to get through the rest of today and tomorrow which shouldn't be hard because my heart and brain seem to functioning just fine. I should be able to live through the weekend. Man, my bladder is sure talking to me though, YEESH! I have high hopes for this weekend and it's filth and gore potential. My 3 besties and my boyfriend in one place. Amazing. My vagina is starting to quake just thinking about it. If I didn't have to go grocery shopping after work, I'd shoot straight home to watch a dirty movie and rid myself of some of this INTENSITY that is building up deep within my being!!!

I'm freaking out with FUN. I gotta scram.

I'm just gonna scream and shout!

It's so quiet where I am right now. Quiet and cold and sad. I'm itching to get on with my day because I have a "to do list" that is one million miles long. If every Chinese person in the world walked by, the line would never end. And THAT is my "to do list". That was not original material but it is exaclty fitting. I have to grocery shop because bitches gotta feed, and pussies, too. I have to finish at LEAST mine and Karen's routine to "Sisters" for Saturday and to go along with THAT task, I have to get two fans since it's a semi-fan dance! THEN there's my OWN solo dance which has a foundation but needs to be revved up a bit. And of course, the kitchen needs to be cleaned, the basement needs to be finished, there's showering and grooming to do, and I would LOVE to have my boyfriend lay on top of me for awhile. So I guess I'll come up for air sometime around...Friday. Fuck.

The weekend was pretty boss, even if Todd and I lost about 3-4 hours of our life in some sort of vortex. The oddest things happen to us after we leave the Jigsaw. It's like when the Maitland's left there house and encountered sandworms with no concept of time or distance. Regardless, we saw bands, we drank, we socialized, we looked adorable, and we fell in love all over again which was actually part of the plan all along. Saturday we were bums but Sunday we were mega-productive so I guess we don't need spankings. But we might WANT them. Now I'm couting down the milliseconds until this weekend. My plan is to chillax major on Friday and then Saturday, not only is there a Pussyfoot show at The Sac, but Queen B is coming to visit, weather catastrophe pending! I think I need a little Becky time to bring me a few steps further away from the ledge. I've been feeling great lately (and my entire family said I looked amazing...my Grandma said I'm a new person...thank you, Todd) but when she's around...I feel better.

That's pretty much the Cliff's Notes version of my life right now. Busy. Psyched. Hot in the pants. I wish I had some gorey details for you to make my life seem more intense or dramatic but right now...it's domestic. And that can be applied to both my house cleaning/cooking/nesting AND my beer intake. I haven't gone soft. I'm just coasting. Cruising, if you will. I'm sure I'll be "piggy drunk" as Carol High Hair says on Saturday, and I plan to recover with flapjacks on Sunday. All my bills are paid up, I'm weeding things out, I'm sucking up as much time as my friends will let me. I'm a happy gal. I'm a lucky gal. Come to The Sac on Saturday and see how happy and lucky I am!!! 52 days to Heavy Rebel. 10 days to Disney World.

*MUAH*

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.