I Am the Walrus

Mannix is dead.

Actually, Mannix is so close to dying I'm about to cut the life support.

Mannix is my car. Was my car. Now he's stuck at the Saturn in Franklin because he started making a terrible metal-on-metal sound that will cost me $1400 to fix.

So, alas, I must prepare to bid fare-well to my long-time friend.

I spent the day at Adam's watching the kids while his mom was gone, and the rest of the day was spent anxiously awaiting Clarke to come rescue me from the crazy house. I wasn't about to be stuck there with his mom all afternoon.

My sister has been planning on getting a car in February and then giving me hers. But Mannix just couldn't make it another month. It figures.

A special shout-out to Chrissy, who volunteered to meet me at my apartment at 4:30 a.m. on Thursday to get me to work in Franklin (training) by 5:30. You're a pal, Chrissy: I'll sell an extra pizza kit for you:)

And Now, a Word from Our Sponsor

Starbucks Chantico drink with two dipping cookies: $3.50

Half order of fried pickles: $3.00

One Malibu and Coke: $5.00

Walking out of your job on your boss's shift: Priceless

There are some things money can't buy. For everything else, there's, well, money.

So I quit Friday. Actually, I gave my two-week notice on Thursday night, but then she demoted me, so I quit. Oh well. Sucks to be her. I could care less.

After my 3 hours and 15 minutes of work, I met Jen up at Starbucks for some delicious beverages. Then we went to the Black Eyed Pea for some drinks and appetizers, where we met up with some friends of hers.

We went to her house where we kicked some MAJOR ass at Battle of the Sexes. So really, what we've learned here is that Jen and I are manly women. Good for us.

I'd blog more, but I am at work and should at least try to look productive. Coming up soon: A comment from one of the non-winners of Battle of the Sexes (hahaha - now you have to comment because I put it on here). And, a more in-depth blog will follow soon, and the much-awaited All-Erica Blogging Extravaganza!

By the way, be sure to check out my column on Sidelines by clicking the Opinions tab. It's the one about speeding fines.

Attention Brainiacs: It's Time to Breed More

Good news - we've just distinguished between bastard and illegitimate children.

So there was an Inauguration today, and I missed it. Oh well. I saw the first one, so I can just picture it in my head with a slightly-older Bush.

Holly (the Starbucks manager) called me last night, and they're hiring me as a shift supervisor! Rock! I have a training class Monday. Woohoo!

On another note, I'm in the Sidelines office, and we've been discussing procreation.

Why is it that the people who shouldn't procreate just keep on having babies? We've decided to urge smart people to breed more - the human race depends on it.

So, in conclusion, I have a job, I missed the Inauguration, and all smart people need to make babies. That is all.

Matt-Who? No, that's lame.

Today I discovered that I cannot walk and drink hot chocolate at the same time. How embarassing.

I had my second interview with the Starbucks DM today. I think it went well. Ironically, Starbucks requires multitasking. Hopefully I won't have to walk and make drinks at the same time. Yikes!

Afterward, I had to get a new social security card. I waited in line for an hour. Think the DMV, only much, much slower.

And, to Matthew, sorry for the calling you Matt for, like, ever. Colby's sorry, too. Nobody else cares. Especially Michaela. She's paralyzed with not caring very much.

Just kidding! We all love you, even if you don't read this, you self-absorbed something. Yeah. Vocabulary is like me walking and drinking hot chocolate. You better read this! And comment!

Oh, JR! Look at the time I posted.

3 Chicks, 3 Davids, and a Non-David

I haven't blogged in a while. I feel bad. I really haven't done much of anything other than work. So here's what happened.

Last weekend Leslie was in town, and she and Jen and I went to Bailey's, where we ran into 3 high school Davids, and some guy whose name we couldn't remember. These guys were far too cool for us in high school, but now my hair's longer and my boobs are bigger, so they can talk to me. We ended up going to one David's house to have some drinks and shoot some pool. It was a good night, especially because they admitted they were assholes in high school.

The other day, Vicki and I went bowling and hung out. I then went to K-Mart, where I ran into the Non-David. Yeah, I still can't remember his name.

I had an interview with Holly, the woman who's going to manage the new Smyrna Starbucks. Keep your fingers crossed that this will rescue me from the hell that is my current job. Face Mecca and pray.

I promise to blog more now that I'll be on campus as of Tuesday. What's on my agenda? Meeting with Jack and begging him to let me into his Philosophy and Film class. Here's hoping!

"I'm OK with being unimpressive. I sleep better."

Dylan (Adam's son) called me "Mommy" yesterday. It was so cute I wanted to cry. OK, I did cry, but there were other reasons, too.

Speaking of Adam, he still hasn't called me. At first I was really worried, but I know he was at work, so nothing happened to him, he just didn't call me for whatever had better be a very good reason. I mean, I'm not all "call me," but if you SAY you're going to call you, you'd better do it. OK, that's all the boyfriend blogging for the day, I'm just frustrated.

The movie you must see right now: Garden State. I mean, seriously, get it RIGHT NOW! It's amazing. I saw it in Brooklyn for $10 and have spent $9 renting it (and, yes, I'd get it free if I waited 90 days). The title of this blog is actually a quote from that movie. Many thanks to Zach Braff for writing it - I take no credit other than being able to type accurately.

Speaking of movies, even more proof that Blockbuster is a waste of my potential:

So the corporate business GENIUSES that run this little operation seem to think it's a good idea to advertise "No More Late Fees!" Yeah, I think it's dumb, too. And yes, there is a catch: After 7 days, they charge you for the movie. Now, my store is a franchise, and we're not participating. You got that? So quit calling my damn store and asking me about the late fee bullshit, you ignorant bastards! Read the fine print: "At participating stores only." Now, I understand some people can't read fine print, but it was ON THE FREAKING NEWS that no store in Nashville or in a one-and-a-half-hour radius is participating, so chill out. Pay your $0.90 a day like everyone else. It's OK - worse things have happened.

My lip just started twitching uncontrollably. Well, aren't all twitches uncontrollable? I'd think so. How'd that phrase come about? I bet JR with his English language book would know. JR, please feel free to answer this question.

Speaking of JR, I have a new New Year's resolution: Not only am I going to blog MORE, I'm going to blog MORE than JR. So really, he's ahead of me right now. I've got to catch up. I mean, he's way smarter than me, and his life is much more Notting Hill-like, so I've got to win something.

The greatest thing I've heard all day comes from Chris Burke (who, sadly, has no blog): "Other than that, I've been tryin like hell all week to wade through this shit about vaginal dosage forms."

I think I'll end with that.

Aidan sign my bra! Oh shit, someone stole it!

enI realize I haven't blogged in a while, and I have really good reason. I've had a bit of a traumatic time since December decided to happen. So here's the quick rundown.

December 3 I worked the Martina McBride concert with Jennifer. Afterwards, we went out, leaving our things in her car. At The Stage on Broadway, I met John Corbett (the guy who plays Aidan on Sex and the City). He signed a bar napkin for me because my birthday is December 20. We returned to her SUV to find someone had broken the window and stolen one go-go boot (which I later recovered in the parking lot), my Phi Chi bag with my first and last name on it), and my purse. Here's the kicker: In my bag I had my almost brand-new Victoria's Secret Angels white bra. Someone stole my bra! I mean, I understand breaking into a car to steal a purse, but stay the hell away from my undergarments.

Luckily, I had a birthday coming up, so I told my mom I need a white Angels bra and I told her my size, to which she responded with: "You're a 36?" Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence, mom. On a random note: My boobs are getting bigger! It's the weirdest thing, but they're much fuller now. I quite enjoy them. My mom got me the bra for my birthday, by the way. Good times.

Christmas came and went, and I had to work for an hour and a half (yeah, I ducked out early). That night I went to the Christmas game with Adam and the rest of the game crew. We lost (who knew), but it was still fun.

Then New Years happened, and I had a swell time, then, too. I even made a resolution: To blog more often. See! I've already done it. Obviously, this will be easier once I'm back on campus and can utilize the Sidelines equipment for my own personal blogging.

I'm on my elipsis right now. It's that span of time before my period where my boobs get bigger (that's the trend these days), and sometimes I'm moody. But I'm not that bad right now. I think the bigger boobs help. It's like God saying, "Sorry I made you be one of the smart kids growing up - have some more boobs!"

Did I mention I had to work on Christmas? And New Year's Eve and Day? Yeah, the world is a cruel cruel place.

Oh, for those of you who are addicted to reality TV, JR's blog is better than anything those CBS guys could come up with. And the greatest part is it happens in England, so if you aren't amused enough when you first read it, go back and add a few "jolly goods" and "cheerios." Ahh...I think I could get into reality British TV.

Until we meet again, this is Wendy reminding everyone to STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM MY UNDERGARMENTS. Unless, of course, you have reason to believe you're allowed to touch them, but you'd better give them back, and that doesn't mean throw them across the room and assume I'll find them. I mean, have you even seen my room?