"Put that in your mouth, chew it - it's delicious"

Appetizer
Choose one: moving to another state, having triplets, or never being able to eat chocolate again.
Moving to another state, preferably one without active volcanoes, as they scare the bejesus and all other holy entities out of me. I could go for New York or Florida, something inland and not likely to get pummeled by nature or the wrath of God.

Soup
Name a news story that truly shocked you.
Princess Diana's death seemed surreal. I remember sitting in church, and my sister turned to me and said, "Princess Diana died," and I couldn't believe it. I know the whole Sept. 11 thing was shocking, too, but I was an adult, so it was believable. It hit me right away. The Diana thing, though. It didn't hit me for a few days.

Salad
What was your very first job?
Jumping on a bed and having a pillow fight in Neal McCoy's music video "They're Playin' Our Song." I was 12, and I got paid $100.

Main Course
If you had the chance to read the diary of someone you're really close to, would you? Why or why not?
I'd probably just laugh at them for having a diary past the age of 12. Would I read someone's journal or private thoughts? HELL NO! I am adamant against reading private thoughts of others. If they wanted me to read it, they'd give it to me.

Dessert
What's something you're looking forward to?
Having dinner and drinks with my parents Friday night. It's always fun getting to spend time with them.

Oh, what the heck? Let's have a song of the day - the same song we danced to on Valentine's Day in jazz, and one of my favorite dance songs. It's "Don't Call Me Baby" by Madison Avenue.

You and me, we have an opportunity
And we could make it something really cool
But you, you think I'm not that kind of girl
I'm here to tell you baby, I know how to rock your world

Don't think that I'm not strong
I'm the one to take you on
Don't underestimate me boy
I'll make you sorry you were born
You don't know me
The way you really should
You sure misunderstood

Don't call me baby
You got some nerve, and baby that'll never do
You know I don't belong t o you
It's time you knew I'm not your baby
I belong to me, so
Don't call me baby

Behind my smile is my IQ
I must admit, this does not sit, with the likes of you
You're really sweet
Mmm, you're really nice
But didn't mama ever tell you not to play with fire?

Don't think that I'm not strong
I'm the one to take you on
Don't underestimate me boy
I'll make you sorry you were born
You don't know me
The way you really should
You sure misunderstood

Don't call me baby
You got some nerve, and baby that'll never do
You know I don't belong t o you
It's time you knew I'm not your baby
I belong to me, so
Don't call me baby
You and me, we have an opportunity
And we could make it something really cool
But you, you think I'm not that kind of girl
I'm here to tell you baby, I know how to rock your world

Don't think that I'm not strong
I'm the one to take you on
Don't underestimate me boy
I'll make you sorry you were born
You don't know me
The way you really should
You sure misunderstood

Don't call me baby
You got some nerve, and baby that'll never do
You know I don't belong t o you
It's time you knew I'm not your baby
I belong to me, so
Don't call me baby

Don't call me baby
You got some nerve, and baby that'll never do
You know I don't belong t o you
It's time you knew I'm not your baby
I belong to me, so
Don't call me baby

Have You Heard About Her Cute Dog?

Yes, hers.

Why am I linking Khall? Well, I got bored and pimped out my MySpace, so check it out.

I have a Top 20 now, and if you read this blog, you're in it, unless you're Lindsey or someone else without MySpace. Really, Lindsey, I would've kicked people out of my Top 8 for you.

I even put captions under the photos, and, naturally, the blog title belongs to none other than Khall.

Your Cheatin' Heart Will Make You...Meatloaf

I got hungry. My meatloaf is in the oven. While it's cooking, I thought I'd share a heart-warming story from work today. Names have been changed to protect the innocent, the accused and the ones I haven't yet categorized.

I was in the back today doing something that could be construed as constructive when the phone rang, and I, forgetting my last Starbucks phone run-in, stupidly answered it. Here's what ensued. My comments, naturally, are in italics.

Me: Thank you for calling Smyrna Starbucks. This is Wendy. How may I help you?
Yes, I realize this is dumb. "Thank you for calling?" Who says that? I do, obviously. I'm such a tool.

Gentleman Caller: How would I get there if I were coming from Nashville on 24?
Don't you like the name I picked for him?

Me: Take exit 66B, which is the same exit you'd take if you were going to the hospital. The ramp curves around, and you'll take a left at the first light, which is Team Boulevard. You can't miss us when you're at the light.
I like to throw in that it's the hospital exit. People notice those blue signs on the interstate.

GC: Thank you. Can I ask you something? Are you still there?
That's two somethings you just asked me, but OK. Go ahead. Ask again.

Me: Yes. I'm here.

GC: What do you do there?

Me: (short pause, trying to let this question soak in) I make coffee. (in a cheery voice) And I occasionally answer the phones!

GC: Are you the one who writes the names on the cups?
Wow, he knows an awful lot about coffee house procedure to be asking me what I do here. I hope he's not going to tell me he's been watching me for days or something, but if he asked for directions, that's not likely. OK, I'll play along. My day started with a merry thug - I should've known it was going to get weird...er.

Me: Sometimes, if I'm up front.

GC: Has you had an Amy?

Me: I'm not sure - I've been on drive-thru tonight.

GC: Do you know if there's been anyone named Amy in tonight?

Me: I haven't been up front, so I don't know.
At this point, I started getting kind of hopeful, like maybe this was some long-lost love of "Amy" who was planning on showing up with roses and an engagement ring or something. I kind of felt bad for not knowing, but if you work drive-thru, you're a slave to the window.

GC: OK, well, if you want to know why I'm asking, I've heard my fiancee is cheating on me, and she's supposed to be there tonight.
Whoa, didn't see that one coming. I guess he just needed someone to tell, and it just happened to be whoever answered the phone at Starbucks. I guess he's planning a stakeout. Neat!

Me: (I have no recollection of what I said here. I think it was something apologetic about not knowing or something. Then we hung up.)

I immediately burst out laughing. Here's what I hoped would happen later that night.

Amy and Her Lover would be sitting in the comfy chairs together, having their lustful lattes, oblivious to GC's plans to interrupt their rendezvous. Then, GC bursts in, screaming at Amy, calling her a cheating whore or something equally insulting if it weren't true. Amy would stand up, defiant, yelling, "You don't even know me!" looking all sad that she was caught. She may even order a cup of water just to throw in his face. HL would stand up in defense of Amy's honor, and then...the camera crew from Cheaters would come in to get it all on tape and GC broke down, sobbing onto the floor, knocking over our display of coffee beans, as I curse under my breath, picking up the spilled Verona. The coffee of love. How poetic.

But, sadly, none of that happened. I say "sadly" because if she is cheating I think she should get caught, and if she's not, I'd like him to try to catch her and be unsuccessful, but if he's untrustworthy enough to call me to reveal his ploy to catch her, they shouldn't get married. Of course, I didn't say any of this to him, but he sounded cute, and I was kind of bummed that a big showdown didn't happen. I even hung around a bit after I got off work, which my coworkers found amusing.

Good Morning, Merry Thug!

So that's what I look like fuscia, as Kevin thinks I should be. What do you think? Does it suit me? I still think I'm black.

In the grand tradition of waking me up in fucked up ways, this morning there was a knock at my door. Now, anyone who knows me knows that coming to my door at 8 a.m. is a bad idea. Naturally, I was too asleep to notice. However, The Tina woke up, and I guess I heard her open the door or something, because I heard the last knock, and looked out the window to see a Rutherford County Sheriff's Deputy car in my driveway.

I was curious, but not curious enough to get out of bed - Tina was already at the door anyway. Apparently they rang the doorbell, but I didn't hear it.

I heard her tell them we'd been living at the house since June (actually April, but who cares), and then they left.

Apparently, they were looking for the previous renters of this place - it's the guy's last listed address. Obviously wanted people don't notify authorities of their new residences. They usually aren't THAT dumb. I stress the word "usually" here. They had no more business with us, and I was free to go back to sleep.

Whew! I thought maybe they'd run a background check on me and discovered nothing. A few of you will get the humor and that. The rest of you can mull it over.

"The world's on fire and it's more than I can handle"

Actually, my chest is on fire, or it feels that way. About a week and a half ago, I woke up with severe chest pain. I didn't really think anything of it, because this has happened to me before back in the good ole days of walking pneumonia. Yes, my friends, I miss those days. A chest X-ray, some antibiotics, a little bedrest, and you're up and about in no time...and then in bed for another four days. But I digress.

I didn't go to the doctor then because I don't fancy steroids, and super huge doses of Motrin (aka Advil) really don't do it for me, and all the other anti-inflammatories are sulfa-based, and I'm allergic to those. Well, today whilst I was getting my dance on in jazz, I got the sharp pains in my chest again, only this time it was on my left side instead of my right, and to top it all off, I had some shortness of breath and near passing out to boot. If class had gone all the full amount of time, I wouldn't be typing right now - I'd be in the hospital, my mom no doubt freaking out because someone would have called her saying her daughter had collapsed in dance.

After class, I went to the doctor, and they respected my wishes of no steroids. Why don't I like steroids? Well, I don't dislike them in small amounts, but I had to take so many back in the days of Mono Part 2 (The Mono Strikes Back) and Mono Relapse (The Return of the Mono) that I started getting shaky toward the end. I know over the past year or so, I've had at least three steroid packs, possibly four. That's whack. This time, however, I'm actually still physically active, and I really don't want to bulk up, so no 'roids for me. Do they call them 'roids now? I think if not they should.

Now I'm supposed to vegetate for a day or so, so The Tina is running meeting tonight, and I'm watching what I'm sure will turn out to be sub-par action movies. Worse things have happened.

Thursday, I get to see my obgyn! Woot! I just love getting my rack checked out. I've already been told it's probably cystic fiber something-or-other (which is doctor talk for "not cancer" I think - usually they just tell me "not cancer"), but they still think I should let him look at it. I'm not really worried. Of all the cancer my family gets (and believe me, we get some cancer), breast cancer is one that we don't get. We do, however, get benign breast tumors and whatnot, so odds are I'm just going to be the youngest in my family to have one of those (I think I beat my mom by about 10 or 15 years, and I know I beat my grandmother).

The moral of the story: It helps to do that monthly self breast exam. Your gyno sees your breasts once a year. You see them everyday. You're way more likely to find something abnormal.

This message brought to you by the color PINK (what else).

20 - 1 Firsts

According to Weather.com, it's 25 degrees outside. Translation: Going outside with wet hair was not a good idea. There are ice crystals all over my car; it kind of looks like glitter.

Salazar (the snake) is back to his usual self, exploring his cage and attempting to escape. Don't worry, friends, there are many text books keeping him in. No one can escape Thomas Calculus Tenth Edition (for all you AP fanatics out there, it's actually spelled out on the cover, so that's what I'm going with).

So, whilst I await my laundry to finish so that I can put it in the dryer and sleep read until I can't keep my eyes open anymore, here's a damn survey everyone I know (or three people, whatever) did. It's called "20 Firsts," which is terribly misleading because No. 6 is missing. Why is it that every survey has a number missing? And, more importantly, why does everyone leave that number missing? Why not just renumber and end at 19? That's what I'm going to do.

Without further ado, 20 - 1 Firsts.

1. Who was your first true love?
How about instead of trying to suss out a meaning of "true love" - far too open to interpretation - I'll just share a lovely gem of the first time I SAW true love. I was 15, it was Sept. 22, around 1:25 a.m., barely Tuesday. My aunt Sandi had just given birth to Kendall Dawn Irons, her first daughter. When I saw her hold her for the first time, it made me cry. That is true love. I have yet to find a dinner out with a guy that even comes close in comparison.

2. Who was your first kiss and when?
Aaron something-or-other. His mom was a librarian, and he had an older brother named Patrick. He was really cute for a preschooler. I, too, was like three or four - it was on the playground at day care, you sick freaks.

3. Who was your first prom date?
Kelsey was my prom date both years.

4. Who was your first roommate?
I guess my sister, because we shared a room when I was a baby because she kept getting out of bed in the middle of the night to come look at me. My parents just put me in her room to resolve the issue.

5. What alcoholic beverage did you drink when you got drunk the first time?
Homemade elderberry wine

6. What was your first job?
I was in the music video "They're Playin' Our Song" by Neal McCoy. If you really want to know, I was one of the kids jumping on the bed. I was 12, and I got paid $100 to do that and have a pillow fight. It was cool.

7. What was your first car?
My sister and I shared an '89 Pulsar that I named Jack. Then my dad bought me a '66 Thunderbird I named Foxy Ty. Then my mom freaked out about me driving an old car so we got my '95 Saturn, Mannix.

8.When did you go to your first funeral?
When I was 11, I went to my great-grandmother's funeral. My great-grandfather died a month before I was born, so I imagine I was in the womb during that one.

9. How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown?
8, but I probably would've said 8 1/2 if you'd asked me then.

10. Who was your first grade teacher?
Mrs. Vagnier

11. Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane?
Disney World with my dad. We flew first class, and I got to go in the cockpit because it was my first time on an airplane, and I was in first class, and they pretty much let you do whatever you wanted back then. I was 13.

12. Where did you go for your first date and who was it with?
To see Patch Adams and then to get ice cream at Baskin Robbins, and it was with Patrick, who, to this day, still holds the record for best Valentine's Day (I don't count the ones I spend with family, obviously).

13. When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with?
I don't sneak out of my house. I just say I'm going out, and they used to want me to call if I was going to be out past 6 a.m., but now they don't care.

14. Who was your first real best friend and are you still friends with them?
My sister. Yes, I'm still friends with her, obviously. She'd normally be waking up now if it weren't a school holiday (I assume she also gets Presidents' Day off - most schools do).

15. Who was the first person to send you flowers?
I'm not sure who was first after my first surgery, because I was all drugged up, but probably friends and family, and my surgeon, who also sent flowers. I probably sent his kids to college with all the surgeries he did on me, so it all works out.

16. Where did you live the first time you moved out of your parents house?
Dobbs Hall at Emory

17. Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day?
My dad, which, after reading everyone else's answers, is kind of weird.

18. Who's wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or a groomsmen
I was a junior bridesmaid in Sandi's wedding (I was 11). I have no plans on being a groomsman.

19. What is the first thing you do in the morning?
Usually between 4 and 6 a.m., I go to bed. If you want to know what I do when I first wake up, I hit the snooze button. When I actually get out of bed, I put on some pants.

The Snowed-ins of Yesteryear

Please tell me someone got that reference. Please? I'm looking to all you educated masses.

I went to Hendersonville Saturday night for some fun with the familiy, and we naturally grilled out in the snow. It's not the first time we've done it. There was ice all over the driveway, and we had steak, grilled chicken, and my dad started smoking a pork butt for barbecue for Sunday's race. Then I realized I can't even remember the last time we only grilled ONE meat. We're quite the carnivores.

My dad and I had some Jack Daniel's and played backgammon, and I lost, which is OK, because I hadn't played in a few years.

Bonus: Khall can play backgammon, too! This is exciting!

Oh, what the hell, let's have a song of the day: "Year of the Cat" by Al Stewart.

On a morning from a Bogart movie
In a country where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
Contemplating a crime

She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running
Like a watercolour in the rain
Don't bother asking for explanations
She'll just tell you that she came
In the year of the cat

She doesn't give you time for questions
As she locks up your arm in hers
And you follow 'till your sense of which direction
Completely disappears

By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls
There's a hidden door she leads you to
These days, she says, I feel my life
Just like a river running through
The year of the cat

Well, she looks at you so cooly
And her eyes shine like the moon in the sea
She comes in incense and patchouli
So you take her, to find what's waiting inside
The year of the cat

Well, morning comes and you're still with her
And the bus and the tourists are gone
And you've thrown away the choice and lost your ticket
So you have to stay on

But the drum-beat strains of the night remain
In the rhythm of the new-born day
You know sometime you're bound to leave her
But for now you're going to stay
In the year of the cat

Don't Let It Spoil Your Appetite

It doesn't feel like February. I went out to get The Tina some cigarettes, and it felt like a balmy spring evening right before a tornado picks up the car next to you and hurls it about three football fields. Really, I can't describe the weather without sounding like American Beauty unless I go for exaggerated comedy.

My posture has been incredible today. I have no idea why. I think it's the dance clothing - whenever I'm in dance clothes, I just have this need to keep my body properly alligned. I really like that, though. My back looks much better straight, and I really like my back. I'm odd, though.

Speaking of odd, time for the feast!

Appetizer
If you were a color, which color would you be, and why?
This one is easy - I would definitely be black. This isn't just because I look best in black and have an inordinate amount of black clothing (and even more black shoes), although all of those are true. Black isn't really a color: It is the absence of color (also the absence of light). In a way that's me: I'm not really what I'm supposed to be (by my standards or anyone else's), and I often feel like I'm the answer to a question nobody asked, or maybe just the right answer to the wrong question. But, to be short about it, I'd be black.

Soup
When was the last time you went to the doctor, and what was your reason for going?
Thursday I went to see the neurologist to get weighed to make sure I still exist. Good news: I haven't lost any weight! Also, my blood pressure was a little higher than usual (94/66), which is odd because last night I had a dream that my blood pressure was higher than normal. I should really stop having these weird dreams.

Salad
What do you collect?
Coins mostly. It's been a while since I've even done that. Now I guess it would be books, if one can collect books. I can say I have a collection of books, and that works for me.

Main Course
What were you like in high school? Name one thing you miss and one thing you don't miss about those days. (If you're still there, imagine how you'll remember it in the future.)
I was a little bit shorter for one thing. I was one of the smart kids. I was the president of Honor Society and Latin Club and was involved in and held offices in about a dozen other things. I was on the Quiz Bowl team (rare for a female in my day), I was on all of the math competition teams, and I was also heavily involved in theatre and had the lead my senior year. Yep. I was THAT girl. Only THAT girl was always ridiculously hot, and, sadly, I was not. Oh, and I dyed my hair quite a bit and thought Commando football was the only way to spend a Friday night. One thing I miss: having all of my good friends at my fingertips every day. One thing I don't miss: not being legal to drink. Yeah, I wish I could be deeper than that, but I had a blast in high school.

Dessert
Pretend you're standing in front of your home, with your back towards your home. Describe the view - what can you see? Trees? Cars? A zoo? Wal-Mart? The house across the street. I'm only pretending here - the wind may have picked up some debris and dropped it off for all I know. It is a blustery evening.

Crash into My Bed for a Fantastic Foursome...No Thugs Allowed

I just watched Crash. It's a great movie.

Here's how I was greeted into consciousness today: The Tina and Brandy Is Awesome crawled into my bed (maybe half crawled, half jumped) on either side of me, then the cat walked on me and laid down on my chest. Good morning world!

This is too funny, and reminds me of the good ole days: TrumanJones.com

Also, I'm sad to report that I did NOT win the PowerBall. Too bad. If I were that rich, a good number of you reading this would come out pretty well, too. If you understand the last part of the blog title, you're definitely in for some cash. If not, you'll just have to wait and see.

Shellshock

I forgot to blog about Valentine's Day. Here's what happened.

Woke up in terror after having an all-too-real nightmare about the Devil. Couldn't get out of bed because I was afraid, and after having a realistic nightmare, it takes a while to figure out that it didn't really happen. Around 12:30 p.m. I finally get up, and while walking to philosophy I saw...the Devil. I managed to obscure the rest of my path and avoid confrontation, and I'm fairly certain he didn't see me, which was nice. I spent at least half of philosophy staring into space trying not to have a panic attack, which mainly consists of deep breathing and trying to convince myself it didn't happen. Somehow I held it together, which means I'm making progress. I guess that's something.

Excuse Me While I Put Another Hole in My Head

Actually, I put two in my left ear today. I decided to get my ear pierced again (twice), and the girl ahead of me was all scared about it, so she wanted to watch me go first. When I didn't die (or even flinch) from the double piercing, she decided to go ahead with it. That was my good deed of the day.

Last night I was in Hendersonville at my parents' house when I got the sudden urge to read Angels and Demons. I have no idea where my copy of that book is, so I went to Wal-Mart to buy it again. I love books.

I also watched Bewitched. Is there anything cuter than seeing Nicole Kidman clap when the popcorn pops in the microwave? I think not!

Today I woke up at 1:30, watched Cinderella Man (which is great, by the way), and got Valentine's Day presents from my parents: chocolate. My dad even got me GODIVA CHOCOLATE! Which is why my dad is still my favorite man on the planet - no one else ever gets me Godiva chocolate.

I now have...11 piercings. Double down! I'm excited by this, and I plan to have my left ear completely pierced one of these days, but today was not the day, as I did not have time.

On tonight's agenda: read, sleep, dream of something other than scary honeymoons.

On tomorrow's agenda: class, Greek Life meeting, more class, work, drink, probably Love Actually.

I keep seeing this preview for Pride & Prejudice, and it also somewhat appeals to me even though it's not really my kind of movie, and I finally know why: They use the music from Love Actually in the background. Those sneaky bastards!

Happy Valentine's Day to all you people out there. I hope you all have lots of fancy dinners and candlelit sex for me. If you're in Smyrna, drop by and say hi. I'll be there, slinging espresso like a pro.

Where Has All the Hand Soap Gone? OR Who's in My House? OR Something Shocking This Way Comes

It occurred to me last night, while I was washing my hands, that a good deal of my hand soap is gone. This struck me as odd, because I have very small hands, and I don't need much hand soap to clean my hands. In fact, I've had that same Victoria's Secret Romantic Wish Hand Soap for probably a year or so. Granted, sometimes I wash my hands in the kitchen (if I'm cooking), but, still, a large percentage of hand soap has gone, and I'd ballpark it within the past month.

I guess I have had a lot of people at my house in that time frame, but do they have large hands? The sorority has been over a bit, but unless I've had six or seven people using my hand soap as shower gel and shampoo, I'm not seeing where this is going. Weird.

I woke up today around 8 a.m. (don't worry, I went back to sleep until a healthy 3:30 p.m.) because I heard voices in the house. I gathered one was Brian Doesn't Know, and the other was some guy. It always weirds me out to hear people in my house when I know The Tina is gone. I also heard someone come in and leave around noonish. I found out after I woke up that it was Brandy leaving flowers. Awww.

As anyone who has been in my house lately can attest to (Brian Doesn't Know and I talked about this last night, actually) - there is a lot of static in my house lately. What's up with that? I can't even get up to turn on the light without shocking myself, and heaven help me if I touch anything in bed. I'm surprised I haven't fried myself plugging in my phone to charge.

The Pro Bowl is about to start. They might as well just call that, "Even More Proof Why the AFC is the Only Conference That Matters." Seriously. I can't remember the last time I saw the NFC win. OK, OK, maybe it was 2004, but in my defense, I didn't get to watch that game, and before that it was 2000, and before that it was 1996, which was a great year for movies, but that's neither here nor there.

Tonight I'm going to Hendersonville, to be fed (thanks, Dad). Tomorrow, he's doing my back brakes, and hopefully I can talk him into getting my migraine pills refilled, as they are $40, and I am poor. We'll see how that goes.

Well, time to shower, then I'm off to the Pi Kappa Phi meeting to try to convince one of them to dress up like a woman for our Drag Show. That should be fun.

"There's still so much to be done"

Hey, that holiday is coming up: Valentine's Day. Who hates it? I do. I always have, even when I've been attached. I cancelled sorority meeting that night because the girls need the night off. What will I be doing? Who gets to be the special person on my Valentine's Day? Well, Meredith. At work today she mentioned that she was closing that night, and she's had a boyfriend for two years. I offered to come in around 7 p.m. and finish the night for her. She was really happy. I mean, seriously, I can be single any day of the year. Go be with your boyfriend, Meredith. I'm not this nice all the time. Take advantage of it. Afterward, Nick and I are going to find a bar and drink until his birthday. Don't freak out - his birthday is February 15. It seems fitting that Starbucks is my Valentine. Awww. Anyone out there want to get me flowers? Well don't. They die. I don't like dead things. Get me chocolate, or Johnny Depp. I'm still waiting on that one. What I will probably do after I get home: watch Moulin Rouge, Love Actually or Chocolat. It really depends on what kind of mood I'm in: Nicole Kidman, Keira Knightley, or Johnny Depp. And if I want to cry.

I had a dream a little bit ago that I got married. Yeah, weird, I know. Me, married? I can't even find anyone to date, and yet subconscious Wendy was doing the "until death do us part" thing. Actually, I was on my honeymoon in my dream. I had on a black dress. The same black dress I wore to both Brett Bauman's and Kelley Burke's funerals. I guess that was my brain telling me someone else had died, which I found out today via e-mail. So much for the wedding thing. Oh well, it was nice having a dream honeymoon in a hot tub. No, it wasn't to anyone I know, and it wasn't to Johnny Depp. It was to a blonde. I don't picture myself marrying a blonde, either, so it was really odd. And while I'm being shallow, he was short and not attractive, but I seemed really happy, so I guess he was incredibly smart and funny, because that's my thing.

As talk at work got to birthdays, Nick said he's turning 22 next week, and I wished him a better year at 22 than I had. Then I got all in-my-head again, which I tend to do, which is also why I've decided I'm glad I'm not dating anyone now, because I sure as hell don't need anyone else in my head right now. I thought that this would be my last semester at school, that by now my life would have some kind of direction, that I'd be starting to get into that "settle down" mode.

But I haven't. Not even close. I'm slow going, but I think it's important to note that I'm still going. I haven't stopped. I'd like to get my PhD, but that means I'll be schooling until I'm around 30, and, frankly, that scares the shit out of me. When am I going to have time to live my life? I want to go galivanting about the planet at some point, hopefully while I'm still really young and ideally shortly after I fall in love with whoever I'm going to be with for the rest of my life. Ahh. Typing that sounds frightening. I actually typed "majority" first and realized how ridiculous that sounded.

I want to drive a car that I bought. I want to live in a house I paid for. I want to be able to spoil my kids, but I won't, because they need to know the value of being grateful for what they have. I want to go to Hawaii just to prove that volcanoes really aren't that scary. But I think I'd be OK if I didn't get around to doing that one.

I just feel like this place, this life, all that I'm doing now, is just holding me back, and I'm going to burst. I just want to be me.

Mmm...Feast Time!

Appetizer
What was a class or course you took while in school that you realize now was a total waste of time?
Calculus III was just like Calc I, so I remedied that by not going.

Soup
Who is the tallest person you know?
Luke or Hovan. They're both in the 6'5" - 6'6" range.

Salad
What's your favorite midnight snack?
If your mother isn't around, I like chocolate and Mountain Dew.

Main Course
Have you ever found money somewhere? If so, where did you find it, and how much was it?
We found a wallet at the mall once. We returned it.

Dessert
Where would you like to retire?
Johnny Depp's bed. Or somewhere warm.

Sex for My Feet

...is exactly what these socks are like. God, I hope Alice gets my name for Christmas every year.

Ahhhh. It was good for me. Now, where'd I put those post-coitus smokes?

"I'll miss your lips and everything attached to them"

So I recently went on this MySpace diary entry diatribe that only I can read, and I discovered one thing: I need to expand my curse word vocabulary. Seriously, my swearing consists of fucking this and goddamn that with various capitalizations, and I even went so far as to use the word "infuckingsinuate" - I'm especially proud of that one. Oh, and of course there were smatterings of bleeding hell and bloody. I like to throw those in when I can get away with it.

Of course, all this happened a day after I'd just told my dad that if one more person mentioned something to me I was going to go apeshit. Well, yeah, so I opted to go apeshit on MySpace. I can't wait to give my dad the update. He'll probably have some encouraging fatherly advice.

"Most people are fuckin' idiots." Or something to that effect. Either that or, "Why don't you just hang out with different people? Seems to me like the people who are stressing you out are optional." I don't know.

Oh Sidelines kids, why did you have to graduate, you bastards?

By the way, I just found out through reading Khall's comments that Amanda made an appearance on the night we'll never speak of again. That's cool shit! I mean, I remember seeing her and vaguely recall her almost being in my lap in very close quarters on the couch, but I thought that was in a subconscious dream capacity. By the way the comment sounds, though, she was ACTUALLY there. Can anyone help me out on this? Was she wearing a baby blue shirt? Am I making all of this up?

I hung out with some current Sidelines kids a few nights ago, and it went something like this: "If Fern leaves, will you come back. Please? Please?" If Fern leaves, I'm hosting a "Death to all things plant-like" party. You are all invited. Bring liquor, potted greenery, and Round-Up. It will be fun.

Tonight Colby and I are doing some catching up. It's a newspaper extravaganza. I guess that means I have to get drunk and call this guy and text him to complete the square. Yes, I'm aware that it's not actually a square, but do you remember completing the square in algebra? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? OK, then, moving on.

I watched Elizabethtown last night, and it was good. Then I woke up with some weird chest pains that I'd have checked out if I didn't already know that they'd just give me steroids that I don't want to take. The pains are gone, now, anyway.

Nota Bene: My phone is possessed right now, and sometimes it works OK, and sometimes it takes me 24 hours or so to get messages. So if you really need me, call me. Or e-mail me. Or scream really loudly. It might work - I certainly haven't tried it yet.

Must Love Blogs

If I had one word to describe today/tonight, it would be: EXPLETIVE. And yes, capitalization is necessary.

Why, you ask? Did I not hear "Purple Rain" or something? Actually, "Purple Rain" was great. But the rest of the night, aside from some cool bonding with Tanya, was not so great.

I pretty much had a day of lots of meetings and lots of talking and even more meetings and talking and yeah bad. I'd go into more detail, but I can't really. I mean, I CAN, I just know better than to do so in a public forum. As we've all learned, yours truly is smarter than she looks.

On tomorrow's agenda: Go to work earlier than I want to. The plus side: Get off work earlier than I expect to.

Khall is blogging again. Of course, as I told her, I won't link her until she gets those 10 dog-free blogs. I kid because I love (hence the title). And I'm sure at some point she'll make me the Stupid Tennessean of the Day because of it.

Lindsey has learned how to make marquee text. Now I feel lame with my links and whatnot. I need to learn some cool shit. Wait. No I don't. There's no reason why a math/philosophy double-major should know that.

Define weird: Kids at karaoke last week - remember the host who sang "Feel Like Makin' Love" and we all decided he was kind of cute? Well, he knew my name! I mean, I get I had a class with him, but I didn't go. You might say I made a cameo on certain test days, but I wasn't, you know, a season regular or anything. I saw him at the pub tonight - the Campus Pub, not to be confused with JR's oft-discussed "regrettable-carpet pubs."

I know, I know. My mom has regrettable carpet. That was for you, Manda - that was you for. Now leave me a comment before I go insane!

Crazy, and Not in the Britney Spears Way

For a day of some cancelled class, I sure do feel jaded. Perhaps it was my extended Greek Life meeting. Or typing up the meeting agenda for tonight. Or finishing Colby's recommendation letter because the last paragraph just sounded awkward to me last night. It's better now, though.

Last night I went over to help Frodo with some algebra. I excel at college algebra (naturally - I nailed that shit in eighth grade). And apparently Strip Flip Cup is commonplace now. Insert vomit here. I read him my blog about it. He laughed a lot.

I got my Dead Like Me disc back - Woot!

Tonight I have: Meeting with scholarship chair, meeting with exec board, sorority meeting, Campus Pub (because Aaron said he'd sing "Purple Rain," and, damnit, I will make him).

Oh, I totally forgot: THE STEELERS ROCK MY WORLD! I watched the game at the Italian Grill in Hendersonville. Papa (the owner) let us have free food and booze (beer, liquor, wine, whatever). We had a pool going on the winner and overall score. I lost to This Oak Ridge Boy. I can live with that. That's right, kids. I watch the Super Bowl with above-average Joes...er Richards...Dicks!

I'll stop there.

"I Am Medicine and I Am Poison"

Wow. I haven't blogged in a while. Mostly I've been drunk, drinking, or buzzing. Possibly all three. At least I was in good company. Thanks for showing us how to rock it Eaton Street style.

All in all, it was a glorious weekend. I especially liked the part where I got to hang out with people MY OWN AGE. It really puts things into perspective. I've had a lot of perspective hurled at me at lightning speed, and I think it's good for me. It has become far too clear that there's a part of my life that needs to be cut out before it becomes an even worse cancer than it already is. Sometimes you just need those other people around you to remind you of your self worth. Or something.

I know, I know, you were right. Seriously, though. Next time just throw something at me until I cave a lot sooner. Something nice, though, like a pillow, or a box of cookies.

More on this later.

A Cup of Joe...I Can't Believe I Let Myself Get That Lame

Yesterday at work, I made coffee for this man. He used to tell me school was cancelled. Then I had a dream I made his cappuccino too light. Shoot me.

Somebody might have cleaned out her car last night! That means somebody else better appreciate it - and don't you dare look in the trunk. That's where I stash the bodies.

Why did it rain today? I hate my car. It hates me. It rains on me. It rains in the car. Fuck Saturns. Sigh. At least it's clean.

Sorry, Tina, it was too funny not to post. This is how I woke up today. Tina came into my room this morning.

Tina: Have you seen my fake boobs? The cutlets?
Me: No.
Tina: Why aren't you in class?
Me: I slept through my alarm. But I didn't have a migraine!
Tina: Why aren't you in your next class?
Me: I'm still sleeping through it.

Oh the joys of having a cool roommate. Snake update: He's in his rock. I think he's shedding. That's like the snake for of PMS, so stay away. He gets all bitchy when he sheds.

I've Finally Decided...and I Didn't Cut Anything in Half

I'm Stella. It took me a while to figure that one out.

If you're not Lindsey or Amber, I'm referring to Gut Symmetries by Jeanette Winterson, who has definitely become my favorite writer.

For the past few months I've wondered if I'm Stella or Alice, as I possess traits of both, but when it comes down to it, I'm definitely Stella in this little cat-and-mouse-and-other-mouse charade.

I'm glad that's settled. Now I can go to bed.

I know, I know. I didn't say who Alice and Jove are. Maybe they'll figure themselves out. Wouldn't that be neat? I expect too much of people. No one has my taste in books except Lindsey and Amber. Didn't you just love The Passion? I hate when people think I'm referring to the Jesus movie when I mention that book. This actually happened to me (more than once):

"What are you reading?"
"The Passion."
"Like the movie?"
"No, that's the Bible."

Sigh. Lindsey: This is me doing that equal-opportunity hating:) You like?

Get out of My Heart, Get into My Pants

Finally, Tabula Rasa has sparked some interesting commenting. JR blogged his response here with some introspection, so I'm following suit.

First off, thanks to Lindsey for not flamethrowing us. Naturally, I don't picture her owning a flamethrower, but it's still nice not to be singed from several hundred yards away or whatever the reach on those things is.

Side note: Dictionary.com defines "flamethrower" as "n : a weapon that squirts ignited fuel for several yards." I would have gone with "shoots" or "propels" - "squirts" is such an odd word choice.

Let's see if I can suss out my own thoughts in a coherent fashion. This should be fun and dangerous.

Do I hold women to a higher standard than men? That's a tough one, because I am a woman, and I hold myself to a pretty high standard. However, I don't hold all women to the same standard I hold myself to. Do I think they should hold themselves to that standard? Yes, but that's their choice, not mine. Should men hold themselves to high standards? Yes, but some don't. Again, their decision.

So why was I so bothered by these women? Because their actions were so reckless that they could have endangered their lives or the lives of their friends. I understand being young and having a good time, but there's a line somewhere, and they didn't know they were safe. I knew they were safe - I knew the guys they were with, and I knew they wouldn't do anything to them no matter how drunk and naked they got.

But THEY didn't know that. They didn't have respect for themselves, and that makes me sad and livid, because somewhere along the way, they were taught that - some magazine or some jackass boyfriend or some uncaring parent figure taught them that self respect is worthless.

As far as the drunk thing goes, I don't accept drunk as an excuse. It's an explanation at best. Drunk people can be annoying as hell, and, as Lindsey pointed out, all people do have equal capacity to be annoying. I guess it's just a different kind of annoying, and I'm more annoyed by what these girls were doing than, say, burning stuff. Although I've been pissed off by drunk guys plenty of times. Maybe I should just hang out with different people...

I was watching CSI today with my roommate, and there was an episode about some Buddhist monks. There was some discussion about chakras, which reminded me of a time I took a test about my chakras. My second chakra was my most open chakra (my sex chakra), and my fourth chakra was my most closed chakra (my heart chakra). Fancy that. This was a few years ago. Just for the hell of it, I took it again. My fifth chakra is my most open one now. It represents honesty, truth, integrity, and higher wisdom. I'm going to say that I've developed into a better person. Good for me.

Want to freak out your cat? Let her watch your snake swallow a rat whole. She didn't really know what to make of that.

Getting in Touch with My Inner Misogynist

Due to circumstances beyond my control, I had no choice but to spend my quiet evening alone with drunk people. This could have gone down one of two ways: 1) At my house, directly outside my bedroom door, with nowhere for the noise to go but into my ears. Someone probably would have seen Salazar and, being intrigued by the fact that I have a pet snake, would have insisted on taking him out for some drunken snake ogling. Eventually, people would have passed out on various living room furniture items, no doubt having to move important things of ours in the process. 2) At the SigEp house, where I could expect to put a reasonable distance between the drunken noise and me (and also free up my bed for someone). I chose option 2, which helped me discover why I sometimes hate females.

I arrived to overhear a group of smokers talk about streaking to the quad and getting overly enthusiastic when someone named Lynn arrived. At first I thought this might be short for Lindsey, but she later said it was her name. Anyway, when I say "group of smokers," I mostly mean "drunk bitches I don't know."

I went outside to the fire when they decided to burn a couch (it was warm), and the Blonde One was smashing beer bottles on the concrete because apparently that seemed like a good idea. She was wearing heeled sandals. This will matter later.

The Shouldn't Be Naked One was in her bra. Apparently, she was losing a game of Strip Don't Make Bad Decisions. Lynn just kept hitting on Robert and/or trying to stroke his ego, I imagine because there was a big burning couch getting in the way of her trying to stroke anything else. OK, I could be stretching here - but I had to go for the good joke, and she was stroking his ego a bit.

I played the role of silent observer, much like a reaper on Dead Like Me: I'm not there to get involved, just to watch and snark. I made the comment to Robert that if I ever got that drunk that he should take me out and shoot me. But it got worse.

We went inside, and that's when I discovered there was a game of Strip Flip Cup, which they tried to rope me into playing, but I refused because 1) Hell no! and 2) I wasn't wearing a bra. However, for my own benefit, I thought it'd be good if I at least observed these shenanigans. You know, like those "Don't Follow Me" prisoners who came to your elementary school.

The Shouldn't Be Naked One ended up in her panties, which is a sight I'd like to forget as soon as humanly possible. Lynn kept trying to be nonchalant about hitting on Robert, and the Blonde One soon had a blood-soaked foot and shoe. It's amazing how perceptive you are when you're the only sober one. It must work in the way that blind people have enhanced other senses: Everyone else's perceptions go way down, and mine go way up. It's quite interesting.

The Blonde One was amused, saying she had no idea how the cut happened because she didn't feel it.

Here's a thought. Now, I'm not a genius, although I'm pretty damn close. Perhaps it occurred during the bottle-smashing. If I were her, I would think twice before wearing strappy sandals and smashing beer bottles on concrete. It just seems like that kind of behavior might lead to...I don't know...SHARDS OF GLASS GETTING STUCK IN YOUR FOOT!

I would like to add that Robert said he'd never seen these chicks before, which made me so completely disgusted that they would put themselves in such a stupid, compromised position that I couldn't watch anymore. My give a damn was more than busted, as was my ability to feign interest. I retired to Robert's room for some television and blogging (I started this last night).

I'm not sure what happened next, but I imagine it went something like this: One of them probably acted like she was too drunk/tired/stupid to drive so she could stay over, and I'm sure seeing what a catastrophe that would have been, as they had already proven themselves unworthy of being able to handle a can of beer without throwing it on one another, one of the sober brothers was commissioned to drive them as far away as possible...or at least home. I do know they got a ride home, because a serene calm and quiet came over the house circa 5 a.m. And I was happy again, and free to fall asleep to Dead Like Me, after Robert vented about having to take care of drunk bitches.

The moral of the story: Know your fucking limit, and stick to it. Don't make an ass of yourself, and sure as hell don't let yourself end up naked or almost naked around complete strangers. I saw more of that chick's not-so-goodies that I'm amazed I didn't wake up screaming, "For the love of God and all that is holy, put some pants on!" Yes, this chick took off her BRA before she took off her PANTS! Who does that?

It's people like this who give women a bad name. Sure, I drink. I don't run around in my underwear with beer dripping off of my bare breasts, talking far too loudly because it's oh-so-obvious that I'm too drunk to function. I don't smash beer bottles on the concrete in sandals and then wonder why my foot is a lovely shade of blood red. Hell, I don't even touch Robert in public. So I'm three-up on these winners, these fine X-X chromosome combos.

So, in conclusion, moments like last night make me realize that I do have a superiority complex, although I think it's warranted when faced with instances. I think if Lindsey, Amber, and Khall (who is link-free) had been around, there would have been a collective head explosion.

Credit where credit is due: JR, you were right. You're always right. So I guess that makes me...not as right. Let's not get carried away here.

I'm Kind of a Moderate Deal

According to Aunt B, I might suck (which I have always suspected), but more importantly, I might not suck. Yes, I got some link action, and it was good. It was great!

Aunt B is also up for a Koufax. I guess she and Lindsey will have to knife fight for it. How cool are my Internet pals? I'm getting linked by popular blogs. It'll come in handy when my real friends abandon me because I'm too [insert your own flaw here].

Frodo started a Facebook group titled "I Don'T Know If You Know, But I'm Kind of a Big Deal" and asked me to join. Yes, that T is actually capped - I can type, OK? I've been dubbed "the big I want Bill Clinton deal" - this, of course, I found very amusing.

Wait, I think I can make that sentence sound MORE awkward: This very amusing of course I found. We're all Yoda inside.

"He keeps sending me angels just like you"

I had a great evening hanging with my parents, Mike and Fran, Michelle and Jason, and Brandon and Benjamin (Mike and Fran's grandkids - don't worry, they totally don't act like grandparents). The twins are 5, really cute - one of them asked me if I had a husband. Still taking applications. IQs less than 130 need not apply.

We hand a grand time listening to Sammy play, and he did "Sultans of Swing" - I didn't even know he knew that, so I was pleasantly surprised.

Yes, it's Friday night, and I opted to hang out with my parents instead of hitting up Greek Row like the rest of campus. I'm not really into Greek Row - all those frat houses so close together - it kind of freaks me out. Also, any time I have a Friday night off, I always hang out with my parents. They're tons of fun.

And every now and then someone reminds you that becoming what you swore you'd never be really isn't all that great. And sometimes, it's three somebodies in roughly 24 hours. So spending the rest of my night off in the confines of my own home is probably a good idea. As a side note, I would like to mention that Tuesday night's venture to the SigEp house ended in four-hour conversation on Descartes, Brave New World, and the time-space continuum, so not all of my evenings result in playing in newly formed lakes. Just thought I'd throw that in.

On tonight's agenda: get something to drink - I'm thirsty as hell; watch some Buffy or Dead Like Me; read something: most likely Heidegger's Being and Time or The Tao of Physics; finish this blog and catch up on the blog roll; meditate. It should be a productive evening.

Well, I haven't gone to bed yet, so I think it's still Friday, and it's time for Friday's Feast. Check out JR's feast here.

Appetizer
Choose one: Popcorn, Pizza, Pretzels, Peanuts, or Pasta.
I'm tempted to say pizza because that sounds really good right now, but sometimes I'm not in the mood for pizza, and I'm always in the mood for popcorn drowned in too much butter.

Soup
Describe your personality in terms of a particular vehicle.
A lamborghini:
1) No one can afford it
2) It demands attention
3) It makes you smile
4) If any car has an ego, it's this one
5) No matter where you saw it, you'd always think, "You don't belong here"

Salad
If you won a shopping spree, from which store would you want it to be?
Victoria's Secret

Main Course
Which television show re-runs do you enjoy watching?
Buffy, Dead Like Me, Becker, Family Guy

Dessert
If you could look into the future, how far down the road would you like to see? 10 years? 100 years? A million?
10 years: I can't wait to see how cool I look as Mrs. Prince William...OK, enough with delusions of grandeur. I'd go 10 years ahead, just to check out how I did with my life, see what my loved ones are up to, and to see how that doctoral dissertation is coming.

Song of the Day: "Sending Me Angels" by Delbert McClinton. It goes back to the people reminding you of what you're becoming and all that. Let's not get too sappy with the explanation.

I walked down to the river
Stood on the shore
Seems like the devil's always tryin'
To get in my door
Just when I thought I
Couldn't take it anymore
Here he came again
My friend

He keeps sending me angels,
From up on high
He keeps sending me angels,
To teach me to fly
He keeps sending me angels,
Sweet and true
He keeps sending me angels,
Just... like... you...

As I stand on this mountain
Face to the wind,
Amazed by the number of times I have sinned,
And the countless number of enemies
That should have been friends
Here he comes again,
My friend

He keeps sending me angels,
Here they come a-flyin'
He keeps sending me angels,
To keep me from cryin'
He keeps sending me angels,
Sweet and true
He keeps sending me angels,
Just... like... you...

Some say that it's comin'
I say that it's already here
The love that's among us through
The joy and the fear
When I look into your eyes
Everything is so clear
My friend, oh here he comes again

He keeps sending me angels,
From up on high
He keeps sending me angels,
To teach me to fly
He keeps sending me angels,
Sweet and true
He keeps sending me angels,
Just... like... you...

OK, I Guess I Do Bend That Way

Something neat happened in Pilates today: I discovered that I have what is known as perfect flexibility. Cool, huh? At least I'll always have that to fall back on pull over my head if things get rough.

On tonight's agenda: Eat Hot Pocket (currently doing - what are YOU going to pick?), take bubble bath, dress self, go to party.

I had nothing to wear, so I bought a shirt, a tank top, some earrings, and a thong. All that cost me $30. Then I bought some perfume I really wanted, which cost me $50. So when you see me, tell me I smell good. I guess I mean when you smell me.

I'm actually full of shit. I have plenty to wear, but I haven't done laundry in a while, and I didn't feel like looking through all my clean clothes trying to pick something out.

Tomorrow night, I'm going home to hang with my parents for a bit. It'll be a blast (it always is), and I'm getting fed! Woot!

Even more proof Lindsey is the greatest person ever: She got nominated for a Koufax. Congrats to her on making everyone else's blog in the vast expanse of Internet (with a few exceptions) look like shit. Some people find God, Lindsey finds Carmex. But she does it the kind of wit and style that I can't even come up with a word for, so I won't try.

But does Lindsey have perfect flexibility! I think not!

Here's a random picture of me, looking like a complete idiot and having no clue someone was photographing me (apparently I'm mid-sentence or mid-laugh), but my cheekbones look great, so, you know, go with it - it's me all GRSSKed out.

That was taken in December. Good times. Well, the bubble bath waits for no woman. Bored? Check out JR's blog for some cricket news. Who doesn't like a cricket update? And then there's TV on the Fritz's account of crashing a Raider Republicans meeting. Good stuff.

"I change my spots over and over, but they never seem to fade away"

Warning: I wax introspective.

It recently (within the past 24 hours) occurred to me that my life has become incredibly stagnant, and while I've suspected it, it really didn't bother me until now. So I went for a drive, listened to some Counting Crows (hence the blog title), got a little teary (good for the soul), and just thought about shit.

I think it's time to shake things up a bit.

I'm changing, into someone or something I'm not sure I like. Now, granted, this isn't always the case. Over the past year or so, I've added some great traits to my growing list of shit I like about myself, but that doesn't make all the bad stuff go away. It doesn't mean I don't make bad decisions, that I don't have regrets, that I don't wish that I thought I could be better. I used to know it. I used to be it.

Tagged by Cox

OK, so Cox went on a list spree, so I guess I'll do the same. Also, note: I've posted several times today, so be sure to check out the insanity below. Don't just stop at the lists.

9 lasts.
1. last cigarette: Probably some time in November, after sex. I don't smoke, but every now and then I'll smoke after sex.
2. last beverage: Mountain Dew
3. last hug: Robert I think. Let's go with that.
4. last movie: Wedding Crashers
5. last phone call: Received: Tanya. Made: Robert.
6. last cd played: Something I burned
7. last bubble bath: A week or two ago
8. last time you cried: When I got hit with the door - that shit hurt.
9. last love: I'm going to follow Cox's lead on this one and say it's irrelevant.

8 have you evers.
1. have you ever dated one of your best friends? Yes, and that ended badly.
2. have you ever skinny dipped? No, but I wouldn't be opposed to it.
3. have you ever kissed somebody and regretted it: Nothing comes to mind
4. have you ever fallen in love: Stumbled would be a bit more accurate
5. have you ever lost someone you loved: Yes
6. have you ever been depressed: Yes yes
7. have you ever been drunk and threw up: Only thrice
8. have you ever been heart broken: Yes

7 states you've been to.
1. Kentucky
2. Florida
3. Alabama
4. New York
5. Wisconsin
6. New Jersey
7. Georgia

6 things you've done today.
1. Woke up
2. Called Robert to wake him up
3. Brushed my teeth
4. Brushed my hair
5. Got dressed
6. Blogged

5 favorite things in no order.
1. Friends
2. Family
3. Alcohol
4. Good books
5. Sex

4 people you can tell anything to in no order.
1. JR
2. Cox
3. The Tina
4. My Mom

3 wishes.
1. Happiness (for self and loved ones)
2. Wisdom
3. Unlimited wishes

2 things you want to do before you die.
1. Dance in the rain
2. Cruise the Mediterranean

1 thing you regret.
1. Waiting until I was 19 to live my life for myself

Nobody's Gonna Rain on My Parade

If you thought MUDWrestleMania was good, just wait until you read this.

After I got back Sunday from the retreat, I took a much-needed nap, then went to the Greek SpeakOut, had dinner with my sisters, and went to the SigEp house (after a shower, which will later prove to have been a waste of time).

The cable and Internet at the house were out, so we watched Wedding Crashers, which I liked way more than I thought I would. It was monsooning outside, and Baker came in to ask us if we'd seen Lake SigEp yet. "The front or the back?"

Now, if you're familiar with the SigEp house, you know they have a lot of land. Well, that land was under water. The front and back yards had formed lovely lakes, parts of which would have been well above my head level.

After a smoke break, we all just stared out at the front yard, and after a very pregnant pause came the question: "You guys want to go play in it?"

"I'm thinking that's a very bad idea...and I'll regret it if I don't do it."

I was getting psyched to go watch, when I was informed that I, too, would be participating in the stupidity. Well, I'd shown up in slacks, a tight shirt, and my boots, so I insisted on different clothing (not the kind I'd better myself through). Robert gave me some stuff to wear, and after being reassured I could utilize the shower afterward, we headed down to the front yard.

It didn't take long to lose feeling in my feet and legs, and after standing there long enough to get really cold and wet and try to take a few pictures, we ran back up to the house, cursing loudly and piling into the shower with our clothing on (there were four of us: Robert, Frodo, House, and me). The area we were in was up to Robert's waist, and he's 6'4", so you can imagine how cold I was. Even after a very long shower (we kicked them out of the shower once we were all body temperature again), it still took a while to regain feeling in my legs again.

Lather, Rinse, Retreat As Needed

I haven't blogged in a while, I know. I spent the weekend on a Greek Presidents' Retreat, doing leadership things and all that. It was exhausting but good. I get a little weird on those things sometimes. First off, I'm incredibly self-aware. Here's why.

There is definitely a "type" of person involved here. It's sometimes intimidating, and sometimes it just makes me want to throw things and call my parents and thank them for raising me right (which, actually, I did on Saturday - thanks again, Daddy. You're the best!).

There's definitely a difference between my sorority and the others, and that's one of the reasons I joined mine. Anyone who knew me in high school (I'm looking in the general direction of JR and Cox probably never imagined I'd even join a sorority, much less end up being the president. This goes likewise for my non-Greek college friends, which pretty much translates to Sidelines kids and Vanessa. Even being at the SigEp house as often as I am, I get a lot of, "You're in a sorority?" It's nice. I'm glad I don't have that stereotypical sorority girl image.

Still, it's like growing up all over again with a perfect sister. She's always going to be the one people already know when they meet me: "Oh, you're Misty's sister?" She's always going to be the one known for being pretty. She's always going to be the one people think of first. I'm like the afterthought of the Caldwell sisters. I'm the one who was really good at school and who did all the plays. The parents liked me because I could talk to them, and when we got together with other families, I always preferred to sit at the parents' table. I just couldn't stand the idle teenage talk.

Likewise, sometimes I feel like my sorority is just an afterthought for some of these Greeks. I don't know why that should bother me if it does. I guess being trapped at a 4-H camp for a weekend will do that to you. Granted, after hearing things like, "You can better yourself through good attire," I'm glad I'm not a typical sorority girl. I can make that sound not retarded, too - it's a gift after hanging out with Greeks so long: When you dress up, you usually feel good about yourself, and when you feel good about yourself, you're probably more likely to be more productive. However, whether or not that was the motivation behind the comment is something I doubt. I don't care about clothing usually. But I have been known to wander around my house in my bra and underwear freaking out that "I have nothing to wear!" when I have more clothing than I have room for in my bedroom. So I guess we all have a little shallow in us when the situation is right.

I often wonder whether I'm a good leader or not. I guess having to make hard decisions will bring about those questions. I can make the easy decisions - who can't? But when the chips are down, when your integrity is on the line, and when the integrity of the organization is on the line, what do you do? How do you tell yourself it's worth it? How do you make the choice between doing what's right and doing what's easy? Yes, I know, I sound all Harry Potter on this one, but I'm struggling here. Being with all these other groups and hearing about all their local and national advisers made me realize that the whole "buck stops here" thing really applies to me - it stops with me. I mean, I love Truman, really I do - he's my favorite - but I don't the buck to always stop at me. It needs to go to someone else every now and then. There needs to be someone above me to help me, someone consistent who will be around in case I accidentally graduate.

Currently feeling: Overwhelmed
Currently listening to: "Alcohol" by Brad Paisley

"Are you self-employed?" or When Refunds Go AWOL

Tuesday night, after meeting, I hung out with Robert and the guys for some much needed kicking back. We went to Chad's for some poker (yes, Robert drove this time), and the power went off for about an hour. Poker by candlelight. It's interesting to watch. I drove back - keeping my mirrors intact. It was quite an accomplish with the snow and all the freezing going on. Good for me.

Today I woke up against my will at a time I deem much too early (1:15) and went home, changed for work, and went to work. During my shift, I got a lovely sales call. Here's the gist:

Me: Smyrna Starbucks. This is Wendy. How may I help you?

She: [incoherent, heavily accented speech]

Me: I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number.

She: No, can I speak to the owner.

Me: Well, we don't really have an owner. We have a manager, but she's not in right now. Can I take a message?

She: No, no message. Is this Starbucks Coffee?

Me: Yes.

She: 620 Sam Ridley. [she even spouted off the zip code here - I don't even know that]

Me: Yes, it is.

She: Who is this?

Me: This is Wendy.

She: Are you self-employed?

Me: No, I work for Starbucks. [No shit, we've already established this. I mean, seriously, did you call me at home or on a cell phone? No, you called where I work to ask me if I'm self-employed. This is really stupid.]

She: Do you have health insurance [incoherent] government?

Me: Yes, I have health insurance.

She: Is it paid by the government. [incoherent]

Me: No, my mother pays for it.

She: OK, thank you.

Yeah. Won't be answering the phones there anytime soon. Sheesh. Are you self-employed? How are you going to call my place of employment to ask if I'm self-employed? I just don't get people sometimes.

At work, Vince was talking about a professor he knows who plans to never retire. So I responded in this fashion:

Me: So he's just going to go to school every day and wait to die?

Vince: Yes.

Me: That's what I do!

In other news, of course we weren't going to get through the night without something about which to panic, and, no, it isn't my awkward syntax.

WHERE IS MY MONEY?!

Do you hear that, Business Office? Why is MTSU trying so hard to fuck me out of my money? First, it's going to take me an extra two years on top of the five I'd already planned on to graduate, then they tried to take my financial aid, and now my financial aid refund is AWOL. I know MIA is slightly more accurate, but when else am I ever going to get to say something inanimate is AWOL?

On my MTSU account, it says my refund was sent via direct deposit on Jan. 14. However, it has yet to appear on my bank account - even as a PENDING TRANSACTION! Brandy is Awesome has the same bank as I do, and her money was there Monday night. Where is mine? I need it! I already spent some of it on books because I saw when MTSU supposedly sent it to the bank, and it's ALWAYS available the first day of classes. Now I need to get the Business Office to cut me a check or something so I can get to my bank (which is where my money goes to die, by the way) before all my other transactions go through and fuck me out of even more money in overdraft charges. Fuck MTSU. Fuck whatever is keeping me from getting my damn money - I can't pay the electric bill until I get it. I can't pay anything until I get it. I can't get my migraine medicine refilled until I get it.

How in the hell do you lose $1300? Where does it go? Are they keeping it in a mattress somewhere? If it left MTSU Saturday, even though Monday was a bank holiday, it should be pending by today if not already credited. Something is seriously wrong here. It's like trying to get a kidney transplant from the DMV.

I'm going to try sleeping again. I wasn't tired before, but I have class from 8 until 5:45 tomorrow, so I should probably try harder, or at least just give in and light my sleeping incense (Cool Water).

Et amici sunt wet

I got to school this morning around 7:22 a.m., and I got the BEST parking space of my college career! It was so great, I never wanted to leave it. I just wanted to bask in its glory all day.

It was pouring rain, so I had to go all over campus in a monsoon. Not fun. When I finally got home at 6 p.m., I stripped to my socks and underwear and threw my clothes in the dryer before even eating. I was that wet.

I've officially declared my double major in math and philosophy. Woohoo! I have to have 12 hours of a foreign language, but I wanted to take Latin again anyway, and it's ridiculous that MTSU doesn't require foreign language. Et amici sunt agricolae. My friends are farmers also.

Oh, and here's what my Tuesday/Thursday schedule looks like (for those interested):
8:00-9:25 Foundations of Higher Mathematics
9:40-11:05 Applied Calculus IV
11:20-12:45 Insurance in Estate Planning
1:00-2:25 Jazz Dance
2:40-4:05 Recent Continental Philosophy
4:20-5:45 Pilates

That's right, my friends. No breaks. But I know I can snack during calc. and philosophy, so I'm not worried.

And now, Tolstoy Tuesday:

"Monsoon"

The drops spill
onto my forehead
and leave trails
along my face
as though tears
were streaming
from my eyes
over you

On the rest of the night's agenda: Get redressed. Have sorority meeting (no, guys, we don't have them naked). Get corkboard. Drink too much and attempt to throw darts. Let Robert laugh at me. Possibly throw dart at Robert. I'm kidding about that last part.

If Only Google Could Find Parking Places

Thanks to the 30 or so people who, since I last posted, Google searched for sex blogs and subsequently visited my dimly-lit corner of the Internet.

After my last post, something just occurred to me that I've discussed on here before: Aside from the usual links I get from friends and whatnot, most of my referrals come from people searching for porn. It never ceases to amuse me.

I'm off to make some green beans for The Tina and me, and then I'll start working out a parking strategy for tomorrow morning. It's the first day back, and I need to start early. You can never plan too soon where you're going to park.

I Love and Sex You...and I Link You

I did the daily Site Meter check, and I've found recently that I get referrals from NashvillesNews. There's actually not an apostrophe on the Web site. I'm aware there ought to be. Anyway, my curiousity got the best of my Tiny Cat Pants (yes, I finally broke down and linked a complete stranger - check it out), and I hopped on over to the site to see what was linked.

It was my last Tolstoy Tuesday, "For Bambi," under the category "Love and Sex."

Now, I never mentioned this before, but the post was because Bambi just lost her brother. He was young - my age. I didn't mention it because I don't do well with death, especially the death of young people. Anyway, Bambi, I love you, but I don't "love and sex" you.

As I got even more curious, I clicked under categories, figuring I'd find something like "Self-absorbed and Introspective." There was "Rants and Raves," but nothing like "All about Wendy." Then I cliked "Love and Sex" only to find 30 posts...

...and they were all mine!

So I'm the sole Love and Sex voice of Nashville. I'm not sure how to handle that. I'll just accept the ego boost.

And, you know, I guess Theology on the Fritz is on the fritz. I knew it was too good to be true.

Half Baked

It's MLK Day, so thanks for the day off from school. It's nice, and gives me time to buy supplies. On today's agenda: sorority budget meeting. I feel really good that that's something I started. Good for me - I'm at least responsible with money that isn't mine. And usually I'm responsible with my own. I don't have enough to be irresponsible with, or I probably would be.

I was home a few days ago, and my sister pointed out that when she was my age (we're 15 months apart, by the way, so you can take this with the grain of salt that I tend to), she had already graduated and taught for two years. When my mom was my age, she had my sister.

I guess it just took me a while to realize that as much as other people did or had already done when they were my age, I really don't care. I'm not anyone else. I don't want to be my sister at my age. I don't want to be my mother at my age. I think I'm going to try being me at my age for a while: frustrated with school to the point of nearly being burnt out, working five days a week because bills rack up regardless of how many tests you have, being the president of a sorority when in high school you swore you'd never join one. You know, just being me, appreciating the irony of it all, and trying not to fuck it up more while learning some valuable lessons.

I'm just cookie dough right now. Let me bake in peace and quit opening the oven to see if I'm done yet. I'll be done with the timer goes off. Chill the fuck out. I'm going to be a bigger, more delicious cookie than most - I'm going to take a little longer.

Yeah, let's drop that analogy before it gets dirty...er.

Well, it's T minus 2 hours before budget meeting, and I still need to clean the living room and get some snacks for the girls, so I'd better hop to it.

Lordy, lordy! Look Who's Forty!

It's me! That's right - here's the story.

I went to Kroger tonight to get some Gatorade for Tina (she's still a little sick), some Cadbury chocolate/roast almond bars for me, and some IBC cream soda for me.

At night, they usually just have the U-Scan open, so I went there to do my checkout. As I scanned my IBC, it informed me that I needed to show the cashier my ID.

I was a little weirded out by this, so I just turned around and said, "It wants me to show you my ID for cream soda. I'm 23 - I'm old enough to buy cream soda." I said this all very comically, mind you - I wasn't at all annoyed. I was actually amused. Wouldn't want underaged kids running around hyped up on sugar water. Actually, I agree with that. Moving on...

She said she didn't know why it did that, but that it also required ID for root beer. Odd. She then entered some random birthday for me: Sunday, January 2, 1966. I'm more than qualified to purchase cream soda. In fact, according to my birthdate, it's time for my must-be-some-practical-joke-from-the-powers-that-be sexual peak (how is it 18 for men and 40 for women? I know stats on this vary, but this makes the blog funnier, so I'm accepting 40). Bitchin'!

When I got home, it occurred to me: This is the PERFECT way for underaged kids to get beer! Get some cream soda, find some clear-bottled beer (MGD? High Life? I don't drink beer, and if I do, it's Bud bottles - NOT clear), and switch a few out. Go through the U-Scan, bag the goods, then turn around and say, "Hey, this wants my ID for cream soda. I'm 19. That's old enough for cream soda, right?"

I'm so good sometimes I amaze even myself

**Note: Don't actually do this. It's wrong. Get your parents or older siblings to buy your booze like the rest of us had to. Or date someone older - that works well, too.**

So my uncle moved back in with my aunt Thursday. Interesting.

I have a great idea for a social experiment for a drive-thru, but, alas, that blog will have to wait, as I have previous arrangements with IBC, Cadbury, and at least one of the following: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Dead Like Me, Love Actually, and The Tao of Physics. Guess which is the only one you can't watch on a laptop computer?

If you said Buffy the Vampire Slayer...you're an idiot. Hit yourself for me - my arms don't reach.

For those keeping count, I blogged 169 times in 2005, which was 48 more times than JR. Sweet! You know, I used to look at 48 and see 4x12 or 24x2, but now all I see is 16x3. How did that happen? At what point did I start automatically dividing by three? I don't get my brain sometimes.

Checkpoint - No Interruptions

Last night I went to the SigEp house to have a few beers and throw some darts. I'd like to add that I've gotten a lot better at darts. I'm still not that great, but I'm not nearly as bad as I was.

For my last game, Tom and I were playing cricket. He had closed everything but bulls and was racking up a shit-ton of points on me. I closed bulls and proceeded to get 150 points on him in bulls, but it wasn't enough to win the game. He was doing so well that he was all, "If I get to 400 points, you're getting naked!"

To which I responeded: "Excuse me?! You have not EARNED the right to see me naked." Ha. It was amusing. He got to 464, and I had 150. Mercy rule be damned! And no, no nudity, because who the fuck gets naked playing darts? I would never agree to that, especially halfway through when I'm already down 200 points.

Anyway, Frodo had been giving me a hard time all night, which he can do, because I know him. And Tex had been chiming in, which he can do, because I know him, too. But this Tom character was new to me, and I don't much fancy a new guy dropping a dart behind the desk and then wanting me to pick it up.

Here's where the blog has to detour: In season 5 of Buffy there's an episode called "Checkpoint" during which Buffy has to talk to the Watchers' Council. She says no interruptions, and when she's interrupted, she throws a sword past this guy's head, and it sticks into the wall behind him. "I said no interruptions." It's pretty freakin' bad ass.

Well, I'd had about enough at that point, so I pick up a dart, hurl it past Tom's head, and it sticks into the wall behind him. Priceless.

He was all, "Oh, shit!"

Frodo later said he saw it coming because he'd been thinking Tom was getting kind of ballsy with what he was saying to me because he didn't know me that well. And I think we all learned a valuable lesson about how to talk to Wendy.

Tom later told me that Robert is his big brother. That's amusing. I'm sure Robert would have agreed the dart throwing was justified.

I Wax Philosophical...for Financial Aid

I can stay in school!

I checked online today, and I've been removed from financial aid suspension and placed on financial aid probation for summer 2006. I've only taken summer classes once, and when I did, I aced them both. Bonus!

This is excellent news because a) I don't have to drop out; b) I don't have to beg my parents for money; c) I can actually afford books; d) I might make a sizable dent in that pesky credit card bill. I'm not holding my breath on d though. More likely, I'll use the money leftover to purchase Starbucks stock at a discount so that when I can no longer get financial aid because I've been in school too long, I'll be able to use the stock.

I need some opinions here, and I know you kids have them, so tell me if I'm crazy: Because it's going to take forever and a day to graduate, I'm thinking I might change my philosophy minor into a double major, because a) I'm going to have to take some bullshit classes just to stay full-time to keep insurance; and b) If I add another major this late, I'll be qualified to get financial aid longer. Decisions, decisions.

Hurry up and Wait

Well, I've officially appealed my financial aid, and, yes, I just got home. Now I just have to wait until noon tomorrow to find out if they've approved it. If not, I have until 4:30 to pay. Neat.

Thickness of medical records: approximately 2.5 - 3 inches. Nice.

Grade point average: more than 3.0, which, though is bad for me, is still probably one of the best they saw today.

Here's something I don't get: Why do they care if I want to take out a student loan to pay for my school? Hell, the banks should LOVE if I want to keep taking out loans and then dropping most of my classes. At this rate, I'll be taking out loans FOREVER! I understand if a scholarship student parties all semester and fails everything. They deserve a little dose of reality.

I, however, have had a 4.0 three of the past four semesters. Get off my case, man. I should've pulled a Red and been like, "Stamp your form, sonny, and stop wasting my time." But I digress.

This whole thing should have been two different days: loan day and scholarship day. Approve all loan kids. I mean, really, without student loans, so many people would have to drop out of school. At least the scholarship kids can just get loans.

That's it. Nap time. I've been up since 8.

Leave a Message at the Static

Whilst in White House dropping my phone in water, I dropped my phone in water. Yikes.

It works OK sometimes, but other times it randomly turns itself off and on, and the ring sounds weird. Ahh!

I called customer service completely freaking out!

"I know this is going to sound neurotic, but I'm expecting a VERY IMPORTANT phone call. I need this phone."

He said I could have my calls forwarded, but I have no other phone. He suggested I call warranty and have them send me a new one, which will take A FEW DAYS.

I called them, but apparently I can't call from the phone that I need work on. Lovely. The recording said, "Please hang up and call from a different phone."

If I had a different phone to call from, I wouldn't be FREAKING THE FUCK OUT about this one, now would I? Sheesh.

This all occurred after talking to Dr. Green, who said it may be as late at 2008 before I graduate (how poetic - that was so not on purpose) because of how classes fall in that lovely department and how fucked I am for missing ACSI 4200, which, by the way, he went back and changed the W to an F! Sigh. I hate people sometimes.

Tomorrow is the financial aid appeal. Here I come, baby! After that, I'll probably curse my phone or find it miraculously recovered. Hopefully the Tina will be home tonight and we can 1) call about my phone and 2) dye my hair.

If you try to call me and can't reach me, leave a message. I'll use other phones to check messages at least until the water damage is done.

Currently feeling: Frustrated
Currently listening to: Some Crazy Bastard Wants to Hit Me

Take THAT, Anonymous!

It's been a while since I answered the question, "What has George W. Bush done for me lately?" Here it is.

A new federal law states that when you annoy someone on the Internet, you must disclose your identity. Here’s the relevant language.

“Whoever…utilizes any device or software that can be used to originate telecommunications or other types of communications that are transmitted, in whole or in part, by the Internet… without disclosing his identity and with intent to annoy, abuse, threaten, or harass any person…who receives the communications…shall be fined under title 18 or imprisoned not more than two years, or both.”

Hat tip: MooreThoughts.

"Dawn's in trouble - must be Tuesday"

"For Bambi"

Sometimes leaving comes too soon
And "good-bye" is seldom a word
Easily said, if at all.

Constant reminders linger
Making the pain too real,
The memories too clear,
And the present too sublime.

Shakespeare failed to mention
That sorrow outweighs sweet
When it comes to parting

But the dawn will beat the night,
The sun will trump the moon,
And another day will come
For you again.

"I am ready, I am fine" OR "My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me"

"Bottom line is, even if you see 'em coming, you're not ready for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change, not really. But it does. So what are we, helpless? Puppets? No. The big moments are gonna come. You can't help that. It's what you do afterwards that counts. That's when you find out who you are." - Whistler, Buffy, "Becoming: Part One" (Season Two)

This is it. This is that point in my life when everything changes. I haven't decided yet what that means, but I think it's good. I'm ready for it to be good. I think I'm finally ready for my life to happen. I'm finally old enough and wise enough to be me at my age. Ready or not, here I come.

Sometimes I think the greatest parts of life are the curve balls - those unexpected things you can never prepare for. Thursday I'll be going before an appeal committee to try and get my financial aid reinstated so that I can stay in school and let MTSU screw me out of a degree a little longer. If they deny me, I'll probably have to drop out for a while, and that scares me, because I'm not sure I'd go back (I wouldn't be able to afford it for one thing). Something else scares me, too: I'm not sure I'll be able to handle two more years of school. Then again, I've had a lot of things happen to me that I thought I couldn't handle, and I managed to do just fine, or at least survive, so I figure I'll probably survive this, too, however it turns out.

I've done a lot of thinking lately, something I'm really good at, by the way. Here's some of what I came up with.

While talking to Cox last night, I made the revelation that it seems like I'm in a constant competition with myself to see if I can disappoint myself even more, and I'm always succeeding admirably. What has happened to me? I used to be so different, and now I've chipped away at so many aspects of myself. It's disheartening.

I can chalk this up in part to my recent health fiasco, which sent me into a hard depression for about a month.

Part of it I can attribute to people: I have a different circle here, and this is going to sound shallow, and I don't mean it to, but here goes. In high school I hung out with all the gifted kids, with a few exceptions for my theatre friends. As JR once said, "If you are stupid, surround yourself with smart people. If you are smart, surround yourself with smart people who disagree with you." This, I think, is part of the reason why I get along so well with Robert - he's a smart person who disagrees with me. Translation: He makes me think, and I like that. My brain likes that.

But I digress. I have plenty of smart friends, but it's not the same, and I don't mean to stroke my own ego here, either: I feel that I've gotten dumber since going to college. Ideally, this just means I've realized there's so much I don't know and I've had some kind of awakening, but I don't know about all that. Mostly I just think I used to be so much better.

There's a difference between intelligence and applying oneself, and I have to make that distinction. I know plenty of intelligent people who fail to apply themselves, and vice versa.

Well, that's enough self-loathing. Let's move on to happy things.

Have you seen The Shawshank Redemption? It's my favorite movie, and at the end, Red is on the bus going to see Andy, and he says he's so excited he can barely sit still. That's me right now - I can hardly contain myself.

I think I'm finally getting my shit together. I've dropped the paper (after last semester's disaster nothing short of Sonny coming back or a hostile take-over will lure me back into the office), so for the first time in three years, I'll be going to school with only one job! This alone is exciting.

On top of that, part of my comfort zone is going to be around again: Cox has moved back to Murfreesboro, and JR is probably back on American soil right now. These are the moments I love in life - when things you look forward to actually happen.

Current mood: Ecstatic

Doh! A Deer! A Female Deer!

OK, that was really just to try to come up with a clever title. Sorry, Bambi, but I know you laughed at it.

Today's blog is just a lovely excerpt from a phone conversation I had with Bambi today, who was deliriously tired and hungry and on her third trip to Wal-Mart. It's not so much an excerpt as overhearing her mother laughing hysterically over God only knows, with Bambi telling her something to the effect of, "Take two aspirin and call me in a week!" It was amusing.

But not as amusing as overhearing this...

"Don't do that - there's an airbag in there!"

And that's what it sounds like when Bambi and her mom don't sleep and go to Wal-Mart. It sounds quite similar to when I'm trying to keep up with my three-year-old cousin. Even more proof you're only as old as you feel.

And yet I still feel 23. Sigh.

Maybe You Should Drive

No, this post is not an homage to the Barenaked Ladies.

Thursday I was off work, so I spent the day being productive (nap, shower, etc.). After all that napping, it was time to get out. So I did. AND I almost beat Robert at darts. Though I imagine almost doesn't really count, now does it?

We left Chad's house and were en route to the SigEp house when the road took a harsh turn to the left.

Now, let me paint this for you. If you can imagine what would happen if some cartoon character had erased the road straight ahead and put in its place a telephone pole, a guy wire, and an open plot of land, you would have the correct mental image. Think, "Oh shit, where'd the road go?"

As much as I like to speed, I wasn't really speeding here. I was probably going about 35, but this was at 3 a.m., and the road wasn't lit, and while 35 isn't that fast, it certainly is too fast to take a 90-degree turn. I have no doubt that had I tried it, I would've completely lost control of my car. I'd probably be blogging from that elusive coma right now.

So I did the only thing I knew to do: Drive straight between the telephone pole and the wire. I must admit I'm impressed I didn't hit the pole - I've got mad careening skills. However, the wire hit my passenger side mirror, and that's upsetting. I like my mirrors.

I was a bit shook up by the whole thing (mainly because I had a passenger, and I usually try to avoid imminent doom when someone else's life is in my hands - at least I avoided the pole). I talked to my dad on my break from work, and he said it sounded like I did the right thing, which I agree with. There's nothing else I could've done - I knew making the turn was impossible.

Moral of the story: Next time when Robert offers to drive, he gets to.

No. 8 - Not Dale Jr.

8) Get my abs back - Seriously, the rest of my body is embarassed to be seen with my stomach.

Resolved Like Carpet Cleaner

I don't usually do this, but here goes.

My New Year's Resolutions:

1) Get my financial aid reinstated - I only have until January 12 to accomplish this, but if you know me, you know I'll be a complete basket case about it until I actually go before the committee and explain how my uterus hates me. I think I should work on my sales pitch.

2) Figure out my schedule with my adviser - I've been through so many advisers that I have no idea what's going on here. I do know what I need to graduate, and hopefully I'll be able to come up with a plan I can stick to, and hopefully it won't take two more years like I think it will. All this fall/spring only shit is just frustrating me, but maybe Dr. Kholodnyi knows a way around it.

3) Dance in the rain - Damnit, I will do this! It's been my goal since I was 15 or something, and I've never done it.

4) Stop living in my head so much - I mean, there's a whole world outside of my head, and yet, most of the time, I just retreat to my psyche to cause trouble for myself. That needs to stop.

5) Reduce my debt - Hopefully, I'll have more money to help accomplish this, although with one less job, I'm not really seeing it.

6) Enjoy my life - I'm 23. It's about time I slowed down and started liking my life a little more instead of just rushing through it to get from obligation to obligation.

7) Write more - This means I'll have to be inspired more, so hopefully I will be.

Well, there you have it. These are the things I intend to do this year. I guess I'll accomplish at least one. Let's hope so.