We don't owe anyone a f*cking explaination.

If you saw how well I've been "going with the flow" these days, you'd give me a gold star to put on my progress chart. And to be honest, things have been been better. Not just with my fella but with my life. If I HAVE an ulcer, maybe it will go away now. Do they just go away on their own? Regardless. Went to Yorko-a-Go-Go with Leo and there was nothing to fret about. He was friendly and social and all my friend treated him well. He didn't stick out because he wasn't the only "stranger" there (I think strangers outnumbered Sharks) and after a few cocktails and some introductions, we moved out of the back corner and into the party.

And what really got me jazzed was that HE had fun! He told Phoebe, he told me. And he seemed to get along with Johnny like they had known each other forever which is VERY important to me! I was actually the one to say it was time to dip...he probably would have stayed all night if I wanted him to. He was affectionate and attentive and friendly and most importantly, 100% himself. He didn't try to impress anyone, he just tried to have fun...and we did. The fun continued on the way home as we talked, talked, talked, talked, talked, watched "Forrest Gump", and 'drafted' each other. I got to stay wrapped in the blankets while he went to work and I got to wake up to flapjacks in bed. It was good stuff. I could handle more good stuff.

The day just seemed to move foreward in that directions. I celebrated margarita month with Tom and Carol (raspberry for me) AND had a GREAT 16 minute conversation with Phoebe that started with her just calling to ask if I was still haveing a great day. And I was! And so was she! It felt a little odd to be so happy and it really shouldn't. She and I deserve to be happy clams all the time. The happier we are in our separate lives, the happier we have in our collective work and home life. It was good to hang with her out and about and not just see her in the cubicle or from the hallway. But I'm off the subject...the day sort of took a dive during a family function. I still feel like I'm not allowed to talk about my back or my boy to my mom. It's not fair. I shouldn't be censored but I am. Luckily, I have my big sis to fall back on. She'll listen and give feedback and even help out. Once again, there's good stuff.

Today is Mother's Day. My cats didn't get me anything and yet, I bought them 3 new litterboxes, a new more expensive litter, and cleaned their basement up for them. I'm unappreciated once again! Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there! Especially my surrogate mom, Becky. I love you.

I have been introduced to secondspin.com and pretty soon, someone will have to take my wallet away. Thanks a lot, Phoebe. You know JUST where to kick me to make it REALLY hurt. You'll feel pretty bad when I can't afford food but have the world's most developed DVD collection. I used to have a pretty bad-ass DVD library when I was married. Every horror movie under the flipping sun was at my fingertips (and, sadly, "The Garbage Pail Kids Movie"). But with the husband went the flicks (I think that actually hurts me more than being abandoned) so I have to rebuild my cinema society. I have recently ordered the following titles for a large fraction of the cost:

Sleepaway Camp [Widescreen]
Friday the 13th: From Crystal Lake to Manhattan
Waxwork/Waxwork II: Lost in Time
Deep Impact [Widescreen]
Mystery, Alaska
Outsiders [Widescreen]
Futurama, Vol. 4 [4 Discs]
Swing Kids
For the Boys

I see slumber party pajama jams in the future. Not in the Futurama.

Nothing can keep me from you.

I entered one of those less than pleasant moods yesterday. I'm sure I was just a delight to be around as I was snapping and pouting and being intolerable. I owe Johnny the best home-made Mexican dinner of his life for being such a grumpy puss. I'm sorry Johnny. Please bare with me. I'll blame my anger and wrath on the fact that I recently got a shot in the ass. It's always nice to have SOMETHING to blame.

Sorry to anyone else I may have recently pissed on.

I have just enough time for dinner and grooming before I head on over to the big, bad, and semi-depressing Yorko-a-Go-Go event. It will make me so hurty to say good-bye to Pete. I'm feeling hurty already. But this is what the boy has got to do so I support him 100%. I thought I would cry when Ben Lybarger moved to Texass but I didn't. I'm pretty sure I can make it through this evening without crying over Pete, too. Because I know he's got bigger, better things ahead of him. He's going to make something of himself and hopefully on that day, I can borrow $20.

This whole "going away" party thing has got me a bit worried though. Not about it being the firts public appearance with Leo or the fact that my ex-husband and his girlfriend will be there. Nothing shallow like that. It's just...are all my friends moving away? Mary moved to DC. Becky moved to Columbus. Ben and Lisa headed to Texas. Now Pete to Rhode Island?!?! Seriously...who is NEXT!?

I do NOT want this to be a trend. I know people can't stay in one place forever (unless they are me and they have Ohio tattooed on their forearm), but there are some people I just can't stand to let go. I'm still having a hard time with Ben being gone. Johnny and I miss him. And I'm being a crummy pal to him and Lisa, I'm sure. It's because it's hard. I don't want to admit that they don't have an Ohio address anymore. I hate Texass and I'm not afraid to say it out loud cause I'm selfish like that.

Little Jen, Tom & Carol, Phoebe...and many more...you leave Ohio and I will raise me some zombies and train them to run, give them your address, and see if you don't come running back...possibly armless and bloodied. Get the picture?

I'm doing OK. Don't you know? Can't you see?

I just laughed, and I mean freaking laughed, like a maniac for 10 minutes straight at work. My face was red, my ribs and diaphragm hurt, and now I feel dizzy. The dizziness isn't good, nor is the nausea, but the side affects are worth it. It was incredible. Phoebe was right here with me, chuckling her head off in the cubicle (the "cool cube", if you're in the know). I'm sure we sounded like two retarded hyenas but man, it was boss. I couldn't even take a work call because I was in such a state of hysterics. There was a lot of hiding my face in my hands and wiping away tears. Awesome.

I was invited over to my fella's on a night her had his kids. There was a fire and marshmallows and I even got roped in to playing some basketball and baseball, if you can believe that. It was cool to be around a family where the father doesn't change much from being his day-to-day self when he switches into "Dad Mode". Aside from a little discipline here and there and concern over if everyone was being safe and playing nice, he was just my regular, ol', guy. And I was pretty gnarly myself. I got good-bye hugs and a jelly bracelet and girls vs. boys about who was going to get to play with me. There's enough of me to go around, little dudes.

Yeah, I even missed the season finale of Gilmore Girls for family time.

I can sense that Phoebe is over at the other desk, preparing to make me chuckle myself into a heart attack again. I'm trying to ignore her presence so that I don't end up losing my mind today. I need to be relaxed today, not amped to the hills. We cancelled Pussyfoot practice since we just busted our asses for two shows and don't have anything lined up for awhile. It's nice to have a hiatus. How will I spent my recently vacant Thursday? Cooking a Mexican feast for my boy Johnny Switchblade and abusing the Netflix while in my pajamas.

Speaking of Netflix, what a dud that gay cowboy movie was! I fast forwarded through most of it and cursed the rest. What a let down! I mean, GAY COWBOYS! It should have been mind-blowing but it wasn't. I gave it 1 star and wrote a rather test two cents review. Don't watch it. Fo' shizzle. Do something constructive like nap. Or wash your underpants. Or take out the garbage. Or poke your pets with a stick. Just don't watch it. You'll thank me. Even if you want a rodent to make my skull into a condo.

Yorko-a-Go-Go tomorrow. First Ol' Kentucky Sharks function with Leo.

There goes my radio-active bile. Wish me luck.

I guess I'll be with you 'til the end.

I've been such a happy clam. Can this feeling last?

I've decided that the best thing ever is staying up until 6:00am, drinking Coors Light in my pajamas under a Spongebob Square Pants blanket in my fellas basement, listening to a really bad radio station, running my mouth off and/or listening intently, "drafting" each other, and not waking up alone. THAT is the best thing EVER.

Unless you compare it to coming back much later that evening and very quietly watching Sunday night cartoons while eating french fries and ice-cream cones, snuggled up on the couch. Cause that's pretty good stuff right there, too. Especially when you get kissed and hugged...a good, tight, lengthy hug...in the driveway where anyone driving by could see you.

"Seeing" someone is great. Meeting their kids and having them not despise you is pretty cool, too. Going to Detroit Motor Speedway for the race next month, driving up together, and sleeping in a tent in the infield is relatively boss. Asking your fella to go with you to an Ol' Kentucky Sharks function for the first time, having him say "yes", and knowing that he's probably as nervous as you is kinda neat.

Knowing I'm going to get a phone call pretty soon isn't hurting any.

I've got two nickles and you've got a dime.

Hicks-n-Chicks Night @ the Beachland Tavern!
Saturday, May 6th.
9pm. $6

Featuring:
The Legendary Hucklebucks
The Pussyfoot Girls
Slack-Jawed Yokels
Honkeytonk Damnation

I am doing a solo dance tonight. Do you think it's ready? If you placed your bets on "no", you'd be a winner. It's not even close to done. Not even a teeny weenie little ittiest bit. I think the closest I have come to making any progress is that I got my friends to empty out the wine bottles that I'm using for props, I practiced potential moves in a bar bathroom (yes, I was at a bar...two bars, actually...when I should have been practicing), and I watched the Carmen Electra Strip Tease Workout video to see what moves I could snatch. That's about it. I'm a fucking dud.

So of course, I'm totally stressing about getting my moves made up, memorized, and nailed down by tonight and somewhere in there, I have to fit in some sleep. I got about 3 hours on Thursday, 3 hours last night, and here I am, and have been since 6:00am, at work. Clearly, I am not working hard. I also have to get a skirt and get some kicks and I have absolutly ZERO time to be shopping. I am not a good shopper, especially under pressure. I don't know what I was thinking. I always put things off until the last flipping minute and I am kicking myself square in the rear this time. However, I DID make up "Dr. Velvet" in an hour and a half. PRAY that this genius smiles down on me today.

But come out to the Beachland anyway. Chaos will no dount ensue.

You just made my heart go throb.

Phoebe had to fire someone today as a means of expressing that we are the management and we deserve some respect! We do not sit at our cubicles and play Barbies while all the dudes run around lifting cars with their teeth and beating on their chests. We keep this big rig rollin' and we can't do that will any flat tires. Good job, Phoebe.

And that's just one snippet in a week's worth of drama at the Circle Shamrock. People around here talk smack. Whether it's to puff themselves up or because they're jealous, I don't know. All I know is that my little boy/girl thing almost got royally effed in the rear because people have to chitter chatter all the time and when they do, they tend to embelish or flat out lie. It's embarrassing. It causes me to cry and make heated phone calls to get the story straight. Somewhere in there, my head falls off, too. And even though I'm assured that everything's swell and this is what's what, it makes me nervous all weekend. I hate drama. I'd like to save it for your mama but I guess it can't be avoided sometimes.

All really is well since I recieved a post-road trip "just checking to make sure you got home OK" ringy dingy. And speaking of "you can Altoona guitar but you can't Altoona fish"...I was terrified that my personal tragedies would interfere with my Altoona, PA Pussyfootin' but the show went off without a hitch. I was afraid of the new metal listenin', Budweiser swillin', jocky crowd but they liked us...even their bleach blonde chickadees. But a word of advice...don't eat Applebee's before you have to wear tight clothes and shake what the devil gave you. It's harder to do than one would imagine as pre-shimmy Applebee's causes girls to get gassy. So hooray for Altoona...and for Hucklebuck Ted since he bought me a shirt when I was in desperate need to free myself from a corset...and a big yeehaw for the Hicks-n-Chicks show ripping Cleveland a new one this upcoming Saturday.

I skipped Mad Sin on Monday. You might say I'm not a rocker.

Sometimes something else comes up that is so enticing, you have to choose what would be more beneficial to you in the long run. I managed to find a way to juggle driving to the Beachland, enjoying 3 beers, rockin' out with my little sis to Lords of the Highway and heading to Garfield to watch Oblongs in a comfy bed with a comfy fella. I had the best of both worlds that night and I have zero regrets about missing Mad Sin. Having a good Monday is an important element in fashioning your week. Besides, I can see Mad Sin again unless Germany evaporates or something. And they're no Demented Are Go, if we're going to get technical.

And yesterday...hot dog! I have one religious diety or another smiling down on me these days. I had a very long, but semi-entertaining, work day and combining that with my night time activies (we just played Twister, I swear!), I was drained. I pictured barely making it to the couch before I passed out. Instead, I left work to hang with my sister, followed by picking up two pizza pies for my Tuesday dinner/fresh new Gilmore Girls with Johnny. Good call. Speaking of calls, out of the clear blue sky, I get a fella phone call...followed by another...followed by another...followed by another (though this one was slightly intoxicated...and I was on pain killers). I was missed.

Combined, they were fantastic chat sessions. I thing things may be fixin' to change...or at least we're getting closer. Something's going on cause I'm gonna meet me some offspring tomorrow night (yes, the bile is rising in my throat). I"m full of nerves but the rush will be good. And it's not something I can avoid. He told me if I was a wreck, I didn't have to come over. But he didn't have to invite me either. So I'm going. I need to conquer some of these fears. I won't be riding any huge roller coasters any time soon but I can meet some kids. They're just kids, right? :::shutter:::


He asked me what I want out of life in the long run.

That would be one Hell of a list.

He says, "I got mine but I want more".

Sometimes, stopping by someone's house ot say "good-night" involves nudity!

Today was a monumental day for little, ol', beer drinkin', curse wordin', pussy footin' me. A day that I am glad I survived without my head rolling off. I think I only got the itchies once and it was a very brief episode. I am proud of myself and to be honest, very excited and giddy.

I met one of the offsping today and SHE LIKED ME!

That's right. I met one of the children that was built from 50% of the man I love's DNA. It was bone-chilling. I was terrified this morning. I got up, got pretty, got confident, but FORGOT to not have a slight hangover! People said things like "She's just a kid" but kids are scary, terrifying monsters in small packages and she could make or break me, in a way. But really, I wanted her to like me and I wanted to like her. She was goofy and so was I. I was my regular retarded self and I guess she must have found that entertaining. I've always been a hit with the 9-14 crowd. She told her pops she liked me. So she's goofy AND smart (wah wah wah...my ego is HUGE today). I was pretty jazzed about that. I even let her hold my Devil Duck...and she made a joke about her chubby dad and how much dessert he ate at the white trash Golden Corral. I can see us having some bonding moments in the future. 1 down, 2 to go.

Items of note from my weekly Wednesday drinking night:

-A black man who was informed I have a boyfriend (I don't but everyone at the bar mistakes our constant, drunken flirtation and touchy-feeliness as a boyfriend/girlfriend thing) told me that he'd be my "bitch" any day of the week. No joke. Then he called me Leslie.

-My drinking buddy started crying when I told her my hypothetical baby name for my hypothetical unborn son. It moved her somehow. She could envision me with little baby ****** or something, I guess. And I think my hypothetical name seems to fit with the hypothetical potential father or something. It was very emotional...for her. And confusing for me and my all-mighty uterus.

-I somehow managed to get an entire group of people I didn't know to refer to me as a big, fat, pickle-eater and I liked it. I really hope I am a big, fat, pickle-eater some day. I thought it was impossible but it was suggested otehrwise last night. Hmmmm.

I have a drive-by date. I need to hose off and slap on a new pair of panties!

Mean and evil. Dirty, rotten.

I'm feeling a little emo. Forgive me.

I'm also feeling frisky and dissed which adds to my emo-ness.

I'm getting ready to take a trip down memory lane and I'm taking you with me. I hope you all went potty before we left Sanityville because this is going to be a whopper! But let me preemptively state that the man that is going to appear in our scheduled flashback is not someone I'm longing for. Just to set the record straight. He was/is a good man and an all-around cool dude but our going separate ways was for the best. Mostly for him because he was never going to figure me out (I pre-warned him of that...I'm trouble) and I was never going to be what he wanted (unless he wanted a partial Schizo scrambling his brain for all of eternity). It's the situations we were in and the ambiance of our whole duo that are sort of adding to my emo symptoms. This is not about my former husband, by the way.

So here we go...now that you know what's what.

I was discussing something with Switchblade which lead to me rambling about some of the men in my life, which I tend to do, and to one inparticular that I KNOW was my best match. We clicked like no other people that I've known in my life (besides Tom and Carol Shoe-Lane) could. He was by far my best match and maybe I'll lable him "the one that got away" some day. I don't know. I hope not because that may lead to me poking myself in the leg with foreign objects, no doubt. Regardless, it's that clicking I've been longing for.

I look back on our "thing" with fondness. No regrets, no ill will. And that's a great feeling. Driving to his house was the best road trip ever and driving home was the longest, most painful roadtrip ever. From the first time I ever went there, CLICK. Instant. And the constant laughing! Tops. I'm not saying I don't click with my guy. I've never felt about anyone the way I do about him. Go ahead and question that. I do every day. There are just things I did with this other guy I wish I was doing now. If he reads this, he'll know who he is when I list things like eating cheesecake in bed at midnight, smoking cigarette after cigarette while watching movie after movie, laying on the bed in 18 bazillion positions while laughing and laughing, wrapping myself around his back while he fiddles with this or that, wearing his hoodie to feel close to him (this applies to Leo...I even got to KEEP his hoodie as it was from his LARGE collection...he's migrated upward and outward). And the phone calls. Hot damn.

Things were just good. I fit in with his friends and his scene and was his biggest supporter and listening ear. And like I said, it's not HIM, it's the situation. I want to be able to call Leo up late at night after a show and talk to him while laughing hysterically, pacing back and forth in a parking lot, eventually laying on the ground, looking at the stars. I want him to want me to do that. I want him to be so excited to get my call and for me to NOT be afraid to call him whenever I want or ask him to hang whenever I want. This "thing" I had with this guy...it was good stuff and I didn't handle it very well. I'm a bad, bad girl. Shame on me.

This is just frustration. I mean, come on ladies. HOLLA IF YA HEAR ME! I need some hollas. I DID get a late night message saying, after a few other drunk messages, that he wanted me next to him. And he DID call me a bazillion times where he laughed alot and he made my day. And he DID make sure to say, "Tell Johnny I said 'Hi'" and he DID hold my hand in front of the Pussyfoot Girls which means A LOT to me. I guess I just wish things were going a bit FASTER. Maybe I should enjoy the slow pace.

He had a girl in his life that just left not too long ago. No one wants to rush into something else no matter how KICK ASS the person is (shameless self-promotion).

One thing that has stayed the same from my previous relationship-y thing to this current "seeing someone" bit is that no matter how much time goes by...a year there, a year here...I still get a chill up my spine when my guy touches my hand or my neck or kisses me or holds my hand. Every hand holding or snuggle session felt like the first one. Then and now.

Maybe I should consider myself lucky and quit bitching.

Bitches bitch just like truckers truck. Yeah, I used "truck" as a verb.

END EMO TRANSMISSION.

And you give yourself away.

My cell phone had to be replaced because it crashed like a computer or so I was informed. I had to not only refill my entire phonebook but download all of my ringtones as well. I figured if I had to go through the trouble of downloading all these rings again, I might want to update some of the ones I was getting tired of. I was having the most difficulty finding one for my best buddy, Johnny Switchblade. We spent some good time together this weekend. I had a lot of fun with him and he qwacked me up. That's totally off the subject though. So rather than get him riled up by assigning Boston's "More Than a Feelin'", I kept hunting. For comedic value, I decided it was between "Jack and Diane" or "I Can't Live With or Without You" as either would be entertaining considering people have told me we'll end up together yet we won't...even if he knows when my menstrual cycle is going to end and feels comfortable enough to fart in front of me ALL THE TIME. Our relationship is a retarded one and I dig it. So I based my choice on which ring actually SOUNDED cooler and went with the U2 hit.

A few minutes ago, I was previewing all my new rings and came to that one and managed, during a 23 second ringtone or whatever, to burst into tears and sink into a feeling of utter low. It has nothing to do with Johnny or the ringtone or U2. I think I'm just losing bits and pieces of my brain these days...or my heart...and something about the ringtone version of that song...all peaceful and low and lacking Bono's somewhat irritating (though I do love that song and would like to shag during it) low tones...made me lose it. I've pretty much been waiting to cry all day. Bono and beer finally brought that to fruition. Am I just depressed these days? Am I just lonely? Am I just a chick? Am I in love with someone that I can't live with (because of him) or without(because of me)? Or is the song just that moving? I am chock full of something rotten and my eyes are red and puffy and my lips are swollen. I never mean to be egotistical but I only consider myself beautiful when I cry.

See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side
I wait for you

Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you

With or without you
With or without you

Through the storm we reach the shore
You give it all but I want more
And I’m waiting for you

With or without you
With or without you
I can’t live
With or without you

And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give
And you give
And you give yourself away

My hands are tied
My body bruised, she’s got me with
Nothing to win and
Nothing left to lose

And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give
And you give
And you give yourself away

With or without you
With or without you
I can’t live
With or without you

With or without you
With or without you
I can’t live
With or without you
With or without you

Spendin' my money, callin' everybody 'honey'.

FIRED UP!

That was my attitude yesterday at work. I was surly and nasty and just down right miserable to be around. And I have no idea why. I woke up in the morning next to the man I love after an evening of just good, ol' fashioned hanging out. When he left for work, I slept on pillows that smelled like him and got all dreamy, Tiger Beat style. But by the time I got to work, I was little Miss Crabby Pants, fo' sho'. By day's end, there were three things that helped adjust my mood back to it's regular balance of chipper insanity and sarcastic angst:

1. I pathetically held my arms out at work, asking my fella for a hug. He's not a hugger so I knew if he did this, it would mean something to me. And he didn't even think twice. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders (I was at tummy level, resting my head)and rubbed my back, saying something along the lines of, "You just wanted to rest on your marshmallow". He sure is my huggable marshmallow. For 15 seconds, my life was peaceful.

2. Cocktails! Cocktails with my work gal pal always help. I thought we might hit the joint for one but after 4 beers, a Cherry Bomb, and plenty of snacks and boy talk, I was fairly at ease. I was reminded that things are good...I'm getting to spend plenty of time with my fella, there's a weekend trip planned for June including the two of us as well as work friends, he's showed interest in meeting my family and is comfortable enough to come over and hold my hand around my girlfriends. Not to mention that work is good, I have the coolest friends on the planet, and I'm pretty lucky to have some a rad family so close by. So things are good...and frosty cold beers and super mega good.

3. I got my phone back! It crashed like a computer and Verizon had to give me a brand spankin' new one! How 'bout them apples?? Sure, I lost all my numbers and ringtones but at least I have my life line back. I was retarded without it. I felt like a child lost in a department store, wanting my mommy. It was rough! But my homeostasis has been restored. I am whole again.

And totally in love. I shouldn't be a crab. Crabbiness OVER!

I wanna walk with you, talk with you all night long.

Talking on the phone until way past your bedtime on a "school night" is very nineth grade but god damn, it can turn your entire mood around, making you smile like a douche bag all the live long day. No joke. People probably questioned whether or not I was mildly retarded today because of the mug I had slathered across my face. I'm geeked, man. Geeked to the max.

*pause*

OOOOOOH! I just got a phone call! Right while I was writing this, can you believe that? I was absent and you didn't even know it! I'm now pulling a total Guy Smilie! And if you don't know who Guy Smilie is, we can't be friends any more. Colgate smile from ear-to-ear. As Joe Queer would say, EVERYTHING'S GOING MY WAY!

So it looks as if I have a slumber party date tomorrow after practice which is good news! I like to slumber and I like to party. And it's really good news that I don't have practice or a slumber party tonight because I have stinky dogs. Yep. My feet are stanky and I don't think the opposite sex finds that wildly attractive.

Unless your name is Johnny Switchblade.

P.S. My back hurts.
P.P.S. Drugs are good...for my back.
P.P.P.S. I am not going to Pink Lincolns tonight.
P.P.P.P.S. I didn't go to Joe Buck last night either.
P.P.P.P.P.S. None of that matters. Do you know why????
P.P.P.P.P.P.S. My fella looks like a huggable marshmallow!
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I'm gay.
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I blame the drugs.

But now you know you've seen the worst.

Now not only am I physically screwed, I'm an emotional crab.

I am owed a personal day at work per policy. I try to cash it in for tomorrow seeing as my back feels at least 13% worse today than it did when I defied gravity on my staircase. Sure, they let me to my face but then I am guilt tripped into NOT using it. A little remark is made about my attendance record (in jest, I'm assured) but when I bring it up to the person who said it, he responds with, "Hey, that has nothing to do with me". Which MEANS that someone else...someone upper management-y...doesn't like the fact that I wasn't coming in.

I EARNED my personal day for the quarter! I'm fucking hurting! I swear, you can not be injured or ill around this place and crack a smile or that means you're all healed up! I came in today no matter how bad I was feeling. I cried at my fucking desk and it was even suggested that I go home. Instead, I'll finish the day and not come in tomorrow but NO! That just doesn't fly. I'm sorry if I'm ranting and raving but that's what I do here. I'm especially riled up about how nobody seemed to mind when my roomie didn't come in one day last week because her vacation flights were screwy (not her fault as this is not MY fault). I'm B-R-O-K-E-N! But don't worry. I'll be here bright and early, doing my job, mentally flipping everyone off, pretending everything is fine.

And it WAS fine for a second. I didn't want anyone to look at me as a bad worker or look down on me or whatever. Not that I should care since everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, abuses the system here. It was only after I had time to reflect on it that I was like, "WHAT THE HELL!?!? I should be able to use my personal day whenever I want to! And I want to NOW! Because my back hurts! And I am uncomfortable! And I was CRYING!". I feel like I could cry right now.

I am currently the following :
-mierable
-frustrated
-uncomfortable
-antsy
-anxious
-embarrassed
-riled-up
-furious
-livid
-confused
-upset
-discouraged
-lonely
-in pain
-misdirecting my anger
-unhappy
-sore
-in shock
-crying

Maybe I'll cry all day tomorrow and make everyone uncomfortable.

Broken bodies in a death rock dance hall.

What a miserable weekend. I'm living my life in sin and misery, as Eric Burden would say. I'm so jacked-up on medication that I keep having to pause the typing so I can let my head roll back for a few seconds. I am an unhappy camper. I am a camper who does not like to poop in the woods.

Due to my medications, I couldn't poop if I wanted to. Nasty side effect.

After getting my medical news, I parked on the couch to stare blankly in a druggy haze at the boob tube. Switch came over to keep me company, get my juice, and let's be honest, to wash his laundry and watch ultimate fighting. But it was nice to have someone there when I would open my eyes every fifteen minutes or so. It was comforting. And once again, being hurt always makes me want an official boyfriend to nurse me. Regardless...

This carried on to Friday where I did not leave my couch, not ONCE. I didn't even get up to go to the bathroom (which Switchblade noticed and pointed out to me, making me feel weirdly fixated on my bladder). He brought food, we watched movies, we crashed. We were like an old married couple who can sit peacefully side-by-side, just watching television, not saying a word, farting or babbling every now and again.

Saturday I felt semi-adventurous and went to Best Buy spending WAY more money than I wanted to on 2 "Degrassi: the Next Generation" box sets, Futurama Vol.3, and "Chicken Little". After returning from the sto' (and noting that I should NOT have been driving as my head was going loopy loopy loopy loo and my feet were doing there own special kind of walking), I put back on what will now be refered to as "my boyfriend uniform"...Ray's old pajama shorts and Leo's shredded hoodie. Then it was back in and out of consciousness. Wait...I did have lunch with Carol High-Hair somewhere in there. It was BEFORE I took drugs that day so I probably blocked it out because I was consumed with mind-numbing pain. I don't want to associate Carol with pain...unless it's Aqua Net in the eye. Regardless, I napped and managed to take a shower because I smelled like a sweaty boy's foot.

Leo took me to the drive-in that night...I think it was our second official date and it included M&M's and cheese fries! It was freezing, our speakers didn't work, and the movie wasn't that funny but half way through, he asked me to scoot my chair closer to him. We snuggled. He walked me to my door and I got a good night kiss and hug. A good hug. An "I'll miss you and had fun" hug. Swoony.

My being 100% in love is best translated into being 75% gay/5th grade-esque, 15% hot-in-the-pants, and 10% rebellious against my past.

I was feeling pretty reved up after my date so I headed over to the Jigsaw where I immediately wished my hands were actually giant boxing gloves because I wanted to punch so many people in the face. I didn't even stay more than an hour. I should have just stayed home and set $5 on fire. Leaving abruptly and crawling back into bed was the best decision I made all day.

And today is Easter. I spent it watching "Degrassi" and popping pills.

I am in so much pain that I would stand 50 feet away from me at all times. Just consider this me looking out for you. Today I was almost delirious with pain and discomfort. Phoebe gave me the OK to stay home from work again tomorrow but I don't want to be the office discussion...and it's really not fair. I do my job, I do it well, I try to be friendly and courteous, but I break a bone in my back and I'd bet you a whole pie that they'd be pissed and talk smack if I didn't come in. And I'll get made fun of a lot...picked on, teased, called a wuss...even if I AM there. I really can't take that. Being in pain just makes me surly and violent.

Just ask the surgeon who took my appendix out. He's my bitch now.

I'm shattered, yeah. I'm cracked up, yeah.

If you've been hanging around my My Space blog, this one will actually have more words and more thoughts. I'm going to sneak them in ever so slightly so you'll have to compare and contrast to find out just what exactly I added. It will be a fun game for you. Get that brain out of the gutter for a minute or two. Why am I babbling, you might ask? Because it keeps me from crying which is what I've been doing on and off since yesterday afternoon.

WHY have I been crying, you might ask? You ask a lot of questions!

BECASUE...I have a compression fracture in my back after falling down the stairs yesterday morning. I FELL down the stairs. I was NOT pushed down the stairs contrary to the belief of the good people at Kaiser. It was one of those things where I skidded on my heel down a few steps and couldn't get it together and WOOSH! My legs went right out from under me like in a Sandra Bullock prat-fall. I'm now taking approximately 12-20 pills a day (muscle relaxer, anti-inflammatory, pain killer...I have more pain killers than a pharmacy). I can look forward to a 6-8 week recovery time...it's like broken ribs, nothing you can do about it but wait to heal...but was warned that the first week will be the worst. Awesome. I bet I'll be chipper as a chicken on Easter. Fudge.

I'm not at work today which ROTS for the following reasons:

1. Phoebe is left in the lurch and she's been so cool and sweet about this. She's been helpful and concerned and I know what it's like to be alone in that place. She's in for a long day and will probably be cursing my name by 5:00p.

2. I don't get to see my guy and he seemed sort of ticked about my absence. Don't get me wrong, he WAS concerned about my pain but his head is always at work so he was probably MORE concerned about how the day was going to go. I was grouchy with him on the phone yesterday because I needed comfort and was getting the shaft. He never called me again to check on me. All I wanted was a virtual hug. Boo.

3. I lose a day of pay. I need all the money I can get for property taxes and Shark Attack! Records. Time off is unwelcome. Especially when you can't do anything but lay there and watch "Degrassi: the Next Generation".

4. I'm sure people are ticked off. If you're the one not at work, you're the one that's talked about. Simple as that. I bet I would have been expected to work. "You can't do anything about it. can't you just come in and sit in your chair?". No. No I can't. Screw off.

I didn't PLAN to fall down the stairs. I didn't ASK to be CLUMSY! MOTHER-TRUCKER! I can't go see the Shrill's last show tonight and everything is just EFFED! I really can't stop crying. I'm uncomfortable, I'm stoned, I'm lonely, and I'm just mad at myself for having two left feet, no hand-eye coordination, no equillibrium, and a very tny brain. A big thanks to Phoebe, again, for being a sweetheart and backing me up (backing...wah wah), sending sweet text messages, and being a great pal. And thanks to Johnny for keeping me compnay last night as I was in and out of consciousness. You guys rule. I'm going to need help from friends for the next few weeks so please don't think I'm a pest. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't needed.

Back to my couch...the place where I shall surely die one day.

I'm lonely and in pain. Cheer me up.

Will you sober up and let me down?

I had a laughing fit a little while ago and my sides are still aching. I wish I could tell you what I was busting a gut over but it probably wouldn't seem funny in print. In fact, it probably wasn't funny in reality but for whatever reason, I cracked up. It was pretty awesome. I like awesome things. I like when Johnny said "Stuck in Awesome Town. Send help".

I'm so obsessed with Nick Curran right now. Hardcore.

You know what I like to do on Sundays? Watch NASCAR and get drunk with my guy, my boss, and random co-workers. I like it even more if there are snow peas and rosemary & olive oil Triscuits involved. Sundays are good stuff, they usually end in sleep overs, and they tend to lead to very long Mondays. I think I need to bring a toothbrush to work for such occasions along with some good ol' American toothpaste. Leo's toothpaste is fishy. Anything besides straight up mint is un-American.

I have 2 dates this week. One on Wednesday to send off a favorite co-worker of mine who is moving on to bigger and better things and rigs. I plan to make him a mix of songs involving trucks, big rigs, running the road, CBs...you get the gist. Have any suggestions? I'm also giving him a picture of me to put in his truck. I'm cool like that. So there will be a work sponsered cocktail hour and hopefully a sleepover. I could really get used to this toasty warm bed/spooning/big-bellied-man-as-a-pillow thing. I'm even starting to enjoy the snoring. It's like a really big purrrrrrrr.

My second date is on Saturday (I love knowing my weekend plans by Monday...it makes me hot). I was going to head over to the Jigsaw to see The Shrill and pals but once I found out my boss' son had never been to the drive-in, plans changed. Leo and I are going to take his drive-in virginity. I just sort of creeped myself out by saying that. Once again, I hope the evening ends in a sleep over. And I hope the following day starts with bacon.

I'm really happy right now. I hope nothing screws this up.

This entry was brought to you by the letters X and S and the number 6.

I guess I got you and I guess you got me.

I just had a lunch date with Johnny and he clogged my toilet. Great.

Ever have one of those mornings where you really don't want to get out of bed? And not because you can tell a little, black rain cloud is going to hover over you but because there's good stuff going on in the bed? There was good stuff going on in my bed this morning and I would have pretty much let someone give me a brutal bitch slap if I could have stayed there. I hate you 5:45a and I hate you Saturday duty.

I finally had a successful date last night and I'm floating on a giant marshmallow Peep right now. The simplest things make me happy these days. Leo, beer, 'Robot Chicken', QVC, the qualifying race, foolin' around, pizza, wink wink nudge nudge, and sleeping. The good kind of sleep where even though the man next to you sounds like a tank is being driven through his nasal passages, he makes up for it by intertwining his body with yours all night. I was toasty warm, had a man's body to use for a pillow, and my bed had never felt so good. And when I woke up delcaring that I did NOT want to get out of the bed because I was so damn happy in it, it was nice to have my bald buddy agree and let me keep hitting the snooze for some spooning.

After work, we shopped together for the first time. It was very domestic.

Let me take a moment to exit my "I've-turned-into-a-totally-emo-Retardicon-and-should-be-shot-on-sight" existence to say BIG FAT CONGRATS to my Queen B who not only landed a k-rad new jobbby job at the 5th largest children's hospital this side of the moon, but also quit smoking 5 days ago! I know you want to poke poke poke everyone's eyes out, but hang in there. Just picture that poster with the kitten hanging from the tree or whatever. Hang in there. Or you could imagine a surfer and hang loose. Either way, I'm proud of you and can't wait to totally rape your new weekend-free work schedule! Yeehaw for you!

Since I've been up since 5:45a, I think I have a date with my blankets, pillows, and 'Degrassi: The Next Generation' before I have to pomp pomp pomp pomp it up! for the 8th Annual Rockabilly Freakshow at Nemeth's Lounge. Tom and Carol are my dates and I can't think of anyone hotter I'd want to go with. Unless that guy from prison break swung by with his fake tattoos on in which case, you're fired, Tom and Carol!

Though Carol DOES want to build me a vat that holds a never-ending supply of fresh Pepsi. I can even swim in it without getting in trouble. Oh man...now I'm hot for Carol again. Screw you, Wentworth Miller!

Shark Attack! Records logo is done. Be prepared to change your drawers.

I'll make you even wanna come back for more.

Hands down, I have the brain of a 13 year old boy today. It is in the gutter, rotting, with all the other perverts and their rotten brains! There may be some alcoholics down there, too. I can think about, talk about, and concentrate on one thing only. Sick, I know. I'm an adult for crying out loud (go ahead an laugh...in the eyes of the law, it's true). I should be thinking about my bills, emptying my litter box, doing the fine routing and property claims. But I'm not. I'm thinking "naked things". And I ate a roast beef sandwich for lunch on a Friday during Lent (!!!) so I bet there's a nice, toasty spot waiting for me in Hell. I'll be with friends, at least. I'm not going to sweat about that now. Ha ha, I said "sweat" when referring to Hell. SNAP! I'll sweat AFTER my date. Oh yes, I have a date tonight. A slumber party, if you will. But a much more fun slumber party as it will consist of me, a boy, no room mate, and beer. The possibilities are endless. If only I had Twister. Maybe we can play adult Boggle or something.

But BEFORE my date, I have another engagement at the adult book store.

Enjoy your weekend, y'all. See ya at the Freakshow tomorrow niiiiiiiiight!

Whoa, hang up and run to me!

Oh my golly!

I just spent 10 minutes and 52 seconds on the phone falling in love all over again with a man who has called me "honey" and "angel", and I didn't even mind. It was one of those conversations where I talked and listened, said exactly what I wanted to say and heard exactly what I wanted to hear. From somewhere deep down in my empty stomach (I threw up my dinner...second day in a row), with no help from beer might I add, I said EXACTLY what I wanted to in order to explain why I sounded angry: I just miss you. I had never said that to him before. Well, he misses me, too. He had never said that to ME before. Sometimes something so simple is so good to hear. I was even apologized to for his recent semi-robotic behavior and informed that he's snapping out of it. I'm pretty sure it was my smile-on-a-stick or my Laser Straight that fixed him up. He put his freezing cold hand on the small of my back as we walked down the hallway today and I'm pretty sure that fixed ME up.

We sure are good for each other. Yes sir. My parade is rain free!

Only you can fill that space inside.

A really kickin' day is coming to a close. I've had a Colgate smile slapped wide all over my silly mug from the moment I walked into this joint. Sometimes, just lending an ear to someone who needs a good listener can change your whole mood. Your whole outlook. Your whole vagina.

I've had some ants-in-my-pants about my situation with my lovah-boy recently. But since I've decided to kick back and chillax, letting things happen as they happen, I've realized a few thing-a-ma-jigs. When he seems standoff-ish or angry or less than affectionate, I can't jump to the conclusion that it's because of me. He's got a life that could make any sane person berzerk. He has way more going on than me...he's a manager, he's an ex-husband, he's an ex-boyfriend, he's a dad. There's a lot sitting on his head and I don't want to add to that. I want to be the person he comes to to unload and not one of the reason he needs to unload. I've been being selfish and pushing and that's a great way to push someone right out of your life.

All of these words are mine, by the way. Not his.

And this may seem immature but it was when we started hardcore flirting again that I knew things were okie dokie. After getting my neck kissed (drives me BONKERS!) and a big fat smooch behind closed doors, along with some PG-13 dirty talk, I returned to my cubicle and declared, "WE'RE BACK!". And we are. And even if he's having a rough go of it, I know that all I can do is be a good listener, a good friend, and let him know that he can trust me no matter what. I think he gets that after today...after the past few days. I have high hopes that we'll end up in an official relationship but I'm not going to sweat so much for the time being. What we have is good...the way we goof off, the way we can't keep our hands off each other, the way we pick on each other. He walks by, I light up. I walk up, he can't take his eyes off me. It doesn't have to be anything other than what it is. He told me yesterday that things are usually end up great when you've been waiting awhile for something.

He was talking about sex but I think it still applies here.

I'm just very jazzed today and I'm sure I'll be even more jacked-up after I get to spend the evening with him tomorrow. And you know what? Even if he has to cancel on me, I'm not going to flip my lid. It's not me, it's just life. But after today, I'm pretty sure we'll end up shackin' up tomorrow. He didn't even want to leave my cubicle today, after all.

I'm 27 and life is good.

Other reasons life is currently good and all is gravy:
-Dinner with Johnny Switchblade tonight.
-Pussyfoot practice Thursday.
-Our May 6th promo poster.
-Shark Attack! Records and the Slack-Jawed Yokels.
-Carmen Electra Fit-to-Strip workout discs.
-TONS of shows coming up (Joe Buck, Wayne the Train, Deke).
-Spring Fever!!!
-Big Sis and Little Sis's 3 year at Heavy Rebel together!!!
-Phoebe's ever-increasing good mood.
-Clean house.
-NETFLIX.

And Leo. Can't get enough.

I had a lot of money but I wasted it on you.

Screw you, Kasey Kahne. You owe me $10.

I drove a stick shift for the first time on Friday night. I had had many cocktails before hand and then I found myself behind the wheel of a totally jacked-up, street illegal, 1985 Mustang. I kept calling it "The Stang" but I was later informed by DAB that it would have been cooler if I had called it "The Pony". I also sat in the front seat of a 1956 Chevy that made my heart pound ten times faster than usually. I'm pretty sure I had an orgasm while I sat there. I feel bad for the two people next to me. I should probably be more embarrassed but come on...it was a k-rad Chevy! I plan on having sex in the back seat of it.

Last night, I went on a hot date with Potsie to see The Legendary Shack Shakers. They were fairly fantastic until David Lee and Pete got into some bizarre spitting match. I got beer in my eye and everything went down hill after that. I thought about shelling out some dough for Shack Shakers merch but not after her grabbed my friend by the hair. He has a big 'tude. Mr. Lee seemed a little too big for his britches if you ask me. So while hearing "CB Song" and drinking beers with my friends was a fun way to spend a Saturday night, I'm not sure I'll be a very big supporter of the Shack Shakers from now on. But that's just me.

And a certain someone was there that I had confessed a crush to in the past. Let's just say that I was pretty sauced that evening and just let the words keep a rolllin' no matter how inappropriate or humiliating. Still, last night, he approached me and he very briefly started to shoot the breeze about random things...so I think I can finally go out in public again, not being tortured by the fact that I told him I found him to be pretty much the ideal fella. So everything is gravy. He still has the most perfect teeth and hair I've ever seen. But that's not really enough to pine over. I'm choosing to pine over someone else.


This is what I look like after a few cocktails and some dirty dancing. Sweet.