Bell Road Starbucks Heartache

Define awkward: I saw Nick Saturday at the AIDS walk. Then tonight we met up for a bit so he could read my cards. Conclusion: It doesn't hurt anymore. I think it probably stopped hurting shortly after he got married, but you never can tell until you actually see the person.

I find myself struggling through work at the office every day. I know that's a big source of all the stress I'm feeling, and I ought to just throw in the towel. I've never been one for giving up, though.

I've somehow let myself get behind in all of my classes. Wait, not all: I'm kicking ass in tap dance!

I miss Leslie. I wish she were here. Sometimes I just need the best friend since fourth grade.

I miss the hell out of JR. Come back already!

I danced tonight. It felt great to just let everything go. "Whatever you feel, dance it." Cheesy but true. Today I was tapping out my job frustration, hip-hopping away my financial woes, and then jazzing just for the hell of it.

I have a test at 8. I'm not even remotely prepared, but I'm going to try for it anyway.

Song of the Day: I'm really into Rob Thomas and the Wallflowers lately. Let's go with "The Beautiful Side of Somewhere" by the Wallflowers.

Tomorrow is gonna make you cry
It's gonna to make you kneel
Before it breaks you from inside
Still pressing on
Arm over arm
Still trying to get both feet back onto the ground
They are harvesting these fields in autumn.
We're different now than when we started

I am ready to wake up
There in the exodus
On the beautiful side of somewhere baby

There on the pavement
Underneath the yellow moon
I think of you
And just how easily we bruise
The folded address in my pocket I have stuffed
Trying to believe for you
That the bottom didn't drop
I am on the platform
Covered with dust
I pray they take the both of us

I am ready to wake up
There in the exodus
On the beautiful side of somewhere baby
I am ready to come down
To see us both somehow
On the beautiful side of somewhere someday

This Is What My Sarcastic Blogging Sounds Like

I woke up today and I thought, "Gee, I really hope I get done at the paper really early today and sit around waiting to leave only to find out two hours later that I have to redesign my page twice after my designer's already been given the green light to leave!"

Thank you, Sidelines, for making my dreams come true.

But It's a Good Pain

Tap definitely kicked my ass yesterday. Then Pilates kicked it some more. I'm aching now. My muscles are screaming, "Why? Why?"

In other news, I'm chilling in the office, waiting for the OK to leave. I finished my section before 5 p.m., though it looks like I still won't get out of here as early as I ought to, considering the kind of effort I've put into this week's issues.

Sad but true: I no longer care. I don't get paid enough to care. I don't even get paid enough to pretend to care. I'm currently counting down the days until I can leave this place behind.

It's a little sad, actually. It's lost it's magic. And it's no secret that I don't plan on hanging around, at least not in any editor capacity.

Aside from that, and the big ass bruise from the last blog, I had a hell of a weekend. It's goodness held me over through yesterday.

Last night, I started cleaning my room. Good for me! It really needed to be done, so that's good. I'm going to finish it tonight.

The Song of the Day isn't really a song of the day, just an excerpt from Dido's "Thank You."

I drank too much last night, got bills to pay
My head just feels in pain
I missed the bus and there’ll be hell today
I’m late for work again
And even if I’m there, they’ll all imply that I might not last the day

Me drink too much? Never.

Why I Should Stop Drinking

I have no idea how that happened. I didn't even feel it. It actually doesn't look that bad here - in person, I get a response along the lines of "Oh my God! What did you do?"

**This does not mean I'm going to stop drinking. Maybe I'll just stop running into things. I guess that's what I did.

"To believe in this living is just a hard way to go"

It's a terrible cliche that it's lonely at the top, but I'm starting to realize what that means. It's hard to believe that it's been almost six months since I became the president of the sorority.

It really changes your perspective on everything, including yourself.

Now, I have the burden of doing what's right for the group when it's not right for all the individual members. I have to enforce standards that my friends don't always live up to. I have to be strong for 23 women. I have no one to be strong for me.

There are days when I would just break down and cry if I had the time. There are days I wish I could just turn my phone off and sleep worry-free for just one night. But time is a luxury I don't have.

There are definite rewards, so I want to make that clear before I continue, but when it all comes down to it, good times are a reward for the sisters, and bad times go to me. I just have no one I can talk to about this, but I need to express it.

It has definitely changed me. I can't be who I want to be because that might interfere. The line between who I am and who I want to be is being overpowered by who I ought to be. I'm just not sure what I want right now I guess.

I took a quiz that said I'm Lynette from Desperate Housewives. I've seen bits and pieces of this show, but the quiz mentioned sacrifices and not being appreciated. That's me a lot.

It's like I'm not even here sometimes - even I can't really see me. I work so hard to do so many things for so many other people that I've put my own life on hold for the past three years. Now I feel like I've cheated myself, withheld me from me, and that's not right.

There are days when being a leader is one of the most rewarding experiences of my college career. Somedays, I just don't see why anyone would voluntarily do it. I guess that's why past presidents kept insisting that I really didn't want it. But then, I've been neglecting what I want for a while.

I wish we were stronger. We used to be. Now things have changed. Little things that used to not matter are a big deal, and things that shouldn't be issues are. Somehow along the way, we've all lost something. I know we can get it back, but I fear my loss is permanent.

I've given so many pieces of myself to others that I really don't have anything left, and yet I keep trying, bending over backward, to do something else for someone else. I'm the most obligated person I know.

My heart is in it, which is perhaps a problem. I've never really been able to separate my emotions in the way I would like. I wish I could keep business business and personal personal, but I'm not so talented.

I entangle myself. I'm emotionally involved in the sorority. I'm emotionally involved in my jobs. I couldn't give up if I wanted to, and I don't want to, although I know far too well that one of the jobs has to go soon.

I'm so needed right now, and it's killing me. I'm not wanted anywhere, but so many people rely on me, and I can't bear to let anyone down. Except myself. I've let myself down more times than I'd care to count.

I used to think I was a good person, that there was deep within me a genuinely good person. But I've failed so much that I'm not convinced anymore. Perhaps being good is an allusion. I imagine it's just relative, though I'm not sure to what.

The Devil situation certainly isn't helping matters. If there's one dark corner of my life I'd like to forget, that's it. I don't like to think of myself as being weak or vulnerable. I don't like feeling completely powerless. I don't always have to be in control as long as I'm not completely helpless.

I'm not afraid of many things. But that time in my life was dark, and I think it hardened me, made me different, made me something I don't like. I know it's just self-preservation and you do what you have to do, but that doesn't always mean you're proud of how you handle things. Hindsight it always 20/20. I wish I had done something, anything, instead of just freezing, trying to convince myself that it wasn't real when I knew that it was.

I don't like to admit needing anyone, but right now, I need someone to be my strength, because I'm stretched too thin trying to hold everything else together. I need someone to help hold me together.

For those reading this, please leave me a comment or something. I could use a reminder that I'm not the only one who cares about me.

"Just give me one thing I can hold on to
To believe in this living is just a hard way to go"

The Devil Came from Alabama

We won! I cried. Yes, I cry at football. Laugh it up.

Then we partied in Red Boiling Springs. Good times.

Good times, that is, until The Chad mentioned The Devil. Apparently, he still exists. He told The Chad not to mention us because "She might hate me."

Really?! You think?! I went on some diatribe about how much I can't stand him, although I was careful to leave out details for people who probably couldn't handle them.

Time to sharpen the knife and break out the air pistol. This can only end badly.

It hasn't really sunk in yet, although I had a brief brush with reality at work when I had time to think about it, and I cried. But they were not good football tears of joy like before.

The very approprite song of the day: "Goodbye Earl" by the Dixie Chicks
Mary Anne and Wanda were the best of friends
All through their high school days
Both members of the 4H Club
Both active in the FFA
After graduation Mary Anne went out lookin'
for a bright new world
Wanda looked all around this town
and all she found was Earl

Well it wasn't two weeks
after she got married that
Wanda started gettin' abused
She put on dark glasses and long sleeved blouses
And make-up to cover a bruise
Well she finally got the nerve to file for divorce
She let the law take it from there
But Earl walked right through that restraining order
And put her in intensive care

Right away Mary Anne flew in from Atlanta
On a red eye midnight flight
She held Wanda's hand as they
worked out a plan
And it didn't take long to decided

That Earl had to die
Goodbye Earl
Those black-eyed peas
They tasted all right to me Earl
You're feeling weak
Why don't you lay down
and sleep Earl
Ain't it dark
Wrapped up in that tarp Earl

The cops by came to bring Earl in
They searched the house
high and low
Then they tipped their hats
and said "Thank You ladies
if you hear from him let us know"

Well the weeks went by and
Spring turned to Summer
And Summer faded into Fall
And it turns out he was a missing person
who nobody missed at all

So the girls bought some land
and a roadside stand
Out on Highway 109
They sell Tennessee ham
and strawberry jam
And they don't
lose any sleep at night 'cause

Earl had to die
Goodbye Earl
We need a break
Let's go out to the lake Earl
We'll pack a lunch
And stuff you in the trunk Earl
Well is that all right
Good let's go for a ride
Earl hey

Here's Hoping We Avoid Interceptions

Wow! I've had two Lindsey phone calls in the past two days! And it's not even my birthday!

I'm about to jump in the shower and go to the Vandy/MT showdown that's got very little chance of ending well for the Blue Raiders. Vandy has yet to lose, and we have yet to win. Sigh.

I can't wait to see the old gang again tonight! Amber, Patrick, Lindsey, Cox, Nick, Amanda, and Kristin, just to name a few, are all coming in to watch the game. And to get hella drunk afterward. I'm all about that!

Afterward, we're all going to Cox's in Red Boiling Springs for some post-game goodness. I don't have to work until 10:30 a.m. tomorrow, so thanks to Whit for letting me come in an hour late. It helps with the debauchery.

"I'm gonna build me a boat with these two hands"

Ahhhhh!

Wait. That wasn't good enough. I can do better.

AHHHHHHHH!

That's more like it.

Why is it that I can't get a moment's peace no matter what I do? I mean, I'm seriously considering that coma thing again. Maybe I've never blogged about that. I've always had this theory that a safe coma would be kind of nice: No one would bother me, I could get some sleep, you know, normal coma stuff.

There is that threat of not waking up, though. I'm almost to the point of accepting that.

Granted, this has been a long time coming. Now I'm just sitting up listening to depressing music and wishing I could just cry, but I don't have time. And I haven't the energy, either.

I'm too busy trying to placate the rest of the planet. Sometimes, I wonder why I even get out of bed. I guess that explains why I sometimes don't.

So tonight I completely obliterated a target with the air pistol. Now there's a very large hole in the paper where the target used to be. At least I'm a decent shot.

I feel so overwhelmed right now. I was like that last night, too, so I went to Manderson's and threw darts for an hour. Enemies beware: I'm much better with the air pistol than with the darts.

It's so hard to be strong for everyone else. I'm used to being strong for a few people, but having to keep myself together for a large group isn't something I'm equipped to do. I just need a shoulder, and I want a drink. Which is why I didn't drink last night at Manderson's: It would've just been to feel better, and I don't want to drink to feel better. I only want to drink to get drunk or to have a good time. It's better that way. So last night I threw darts, and tonight I used the air pistol and danced. I wish I had some math homework to do - that always relaxes me.

In the meantime, I'll just be lying in bed, trying to let my mind go to sleep so my body can follow suit. To quote Chris Knight:

Someone cryin' in the hall
Good Lord help us all
While we try to stay afloat
If you would, Lord, send a boat

Spice Rack Strikes Back

Hmm...what did I do today?

Class, tap, pilates. My legs are killing me, but in a good way.

Then I went to the office and worked/threw football for, oh, five hours now. My right arm is starting to get sore. The good news is that I'm getting better at throwing with my left arm. I hope to have my left spiral down in a few weeks. As Jon said, I've got the right one down. Damn right. At least I don't throw like a girl.

Feeling jockish because I've impressed guys with my football skills. Feeling half-naked because I'm still just in tight workout pants and a sports bra.

I made some reference to being Sporty Spice, but I quickly switched to Posh Spice - she gets to marry David Beckham. I could make some reference to bending it like Beckham, but I won't. A while ago at Starbucks we all decided to come up with spice names for ourselves. Mine was Spice Rack. Don't you wish you thought of it first?

I got my car back yesterday. It's fixed now. Well, as fixed as it's going to be. I'll do without AC - I don't much care for spending $1000 on it.

"I never knew what you all wanted, so I gave you everything"

Today sucked.

It started out all right. I got the highest grade in the class on my test I took Friday, which is amazing, because my "studying" consisted of far too much drinking and hanging out with Robert, which both, while enjoyable practices, don't usually result in good test scores. I should've learned a lesson from this, and instead I was rewarded.

Then it all went downhill. Drama, drama, more drama - it's quite frustrating. I don't much feel like going into it, but I will say this: Thank God we have an air pistol. I'm gonna shoot the hell out of a target tonight.

Do you ever just need to be held? That's me now. But, alas, it is not in the cards, so I'll settle for the air pistol, some ice cream, a long drive, and getting walked on by the cat.

Please, hug me the next time you see me. And if you're feelin' lucky, go for the ass grab. Well, maybe not - it depends who you are.

I bought some more Cool Water incense today. I also bought Exotic Rain. The good incense store is back, so that was good. I also got my new cherry phone faceplate put on, and I bought some bondage. I could specify, but it's more fun not to.

Currently listening to: "Pacing the Cage" by Jimmy Buffett
Currently feeling: Like disappearing for a while

My Alcohol Has A Liver Problem

Yes, I'm still alive. Quite possibly still drunk from this debaucherous weekend. God bless ending a rough week with some alcohol.

I heart SigEp. Here's what their Bid Day shirts said:

Our drinking club has a fraternity problem.

SigEp wins for best shirts!

Also, this just in: I am so turned on by hot guys breaking down doors. And Cherries and Handcuffs (my new MySpace name).

My sister had a birthday. She's still older than I am. And I drunk-dialed her from the SigEp house. Then I drunk text-messaged her.

Malibu and Bondage

I'm far too busy. Three of four classes were cancelled today, so I took the day off. It helped.

Tomorrow my mom is coming to take me to lunch and drop off my car for some radiator fixing!

I bought some new handcuff earrings and bellyrings today. Apparently I want my image to be "I'm Wendy, and I'm OK with bondage." Also there was a thong sale, and I fell victim.

Drinking Malibu and Code Red Mountain Dew, listening to "Every Rose Has Its Thorn."

I'm pathetic.

My Frat-tastic Day OR I Heart AGR OR MUDWrestleMania

Friday, I slept through my first class. I didn't mean to, but I did. Then, after my second class, I went to get my check and then was going to go to the bank so I could pay my electric bill, but I had a FLAT TIRE!

So I called Brian Doesn't Know, but he didn't answer (he was at work), so I called The Tina, who called Nathan (an AGR), and he and one of his brothers came and put my spare on, and then Brent (an AGR) fixed it at Wal-Mart. God bless frat guys - this is the second time in a few months that the AGRs have fixed my car woes.

Remember: Save a horse, ride an AGR!

Then Jon from way back in English my sophomore year and I had lunch and played catch-up. It was big fun. Jon is awesome!

Then I went to work freaking out because I didn't make it to the bank, but Whitney let me go. Word!

After work, me and some Sidelines kids went to the AGR party because the party we were going to go to was over (although I did get a Cuban cigar along the way - totally by accident), where we ran into Robert and some of the Sig Eps. I got stud numbered so I could go through the house. Bitchin' - I feel so popular. In order to get into the rooms of the house during a party, you have to have one of the brothers' stud numbers Sharpied on you.

Brian doesn't know
That The Tina and me
Were in his room at the party...

So we hopped to the Pike house, but their party was already over. Next on the list: random Greek Row wandering. Then Robert said I had to come to the Sig Ep house (not an option), which I didn't mind because the parties were winding down.


At the Sig Ep house, I'm drinking whiskey and I got Robert some Budweiser because I knew he'd have cheap beer (he did). I took a shower while Milad (I'm sure I didn't spell that right) shaved, and Robert was in there, apparently making sure Milad wasn't watching me shower. What a swell guy!

Some random chicks were all, "Do you want to run naked out there with us?"

I said to ask me when I was done with my bottle of whiskey. Well, they went to the big mud pit and wrestled in underwear and one had on a tank top. Some of the guys wrestled, too.

I told Robert I wouldn't wrestle in my pretty thong. Around 5 a.m., I put on one of his shirts and some boxers, and we went and wrestled in the mud topless.

TOPLESS!

It was big fun. Also, this just in: I'm crazy. So I get out and these boxers are barely hanging on to me now, and I'm COMPLETELY mud-covered. I looked really good, though, like a human statue. The mud was cold so the girls were cold, but you couldn't really see anything because I was so covered in mud - you could just see the shape. I wish I had a picture of it.

Then we hosed off our hands and feet and took a shower, but when we got in the shower, we realized we didn't have a towel. Milad finally got us one after I made the excellent point of, "You've already seen me topless so what does it matter?" because he was in the hall when we came back in all muddy, and I'm pretty sure he could just imagine me sans mud.

Robert and I watched some of Eurotrip and went to sleep around 8 a.m. Then I woke up at 11 and left the Sig Ep house at 11:30. I'm sure I'll regret later.

We Interrupt This Blog to Bring You a Complete Mental Breakdown

There's nothing like breaking down crying in the Sidelines office at 11:20 in the morning to get the day started off right. It's all uphill from here.

Currently listening to: More overspill chatter from the adviser
Currently feeling: Like ripping my arm off so I have something to throw

The Botched Execution of a Non-Plan OR Our Failed Attempt at Petty Larceny

Saturday night after work I hung out with some friends who shall remain nameless for the purpose of this blog.

For a few months now, we'd been discussing the haunted church of Chapel Hill. For the full story, click here.

The short rundown is that this church is haunted, and it has a haunted Bible in it - one that cannot leave the church. Stories we'd gathered about the Bible included a worst-case scenario of someone dying a month or so after touching the Bible and someone's car not starting until the Bible was removed from it. Yes, taking this Bible must be some back-asswards rite of passage.

Well, I met these nameless friends after work, and as soon as I come in, they say we're going to church.

Now, I haven't gone to church in a while, so I'm really confused about Saturday night church. Then they say it's the haunted church, and we're going to take the Bible.

We all pile in someone's vehicle (I have to ride bitch in the front seat), and we're off to Chapel Hill.

On the way, I decided to do some investigating on this little adventure.

"Does anybody have a flashlight?"

Nope, but someone did have a GameBoy Advance. We can light our way via Zelda - apparitions be damned!

"What are we going to do with the Bible?"

Well, no one thought that far ahead. I suggested dropping it off at a different church. I mean, we can't actually KEEP the Bible if we do get it. That's just inherently wrong.

"Do we have any weapons?"

Nope.

"Jesus! This is a poor planning! You should've let me draw a diagram or something before."

Next item: How we're going to enter the church. GameBoy Advance Friend suggested I go in the back of the line, to which I responded, "FUCK YOU!" Yeah, I'm not going in last.

We then pondered our scary movie characters, and somehow I ended up being the slut, although I was quick to correct that I was not the slut but the tease - a totally different character. The slut's gonna die - the tease might have a shot. I got that title because I was wearing a tank top and black pants that make my ass look GREAT! I mean, really, it's amazing.

I, of course, was fixated on all the ways this haunted caper could go wrong. We passed a sign reading "Narrow Bridge" and I responded with "It won't be there on the way back!"

This went on for however long it look to get to Chapel Hill and was great fun. When we actually got to Chapel Hill, one of the two cops was parked in front of the Dollar General, and we had to drive by him/her at least three times.

We couldn't find the church! We did, however, pass a Church of Christ, the marquee of which kept going off when we drove by. That was weird.

We stopped at a gas station for cheap gas ($2.83!) and asked about the church. The chick working told us one of her former coworkers had gone with friends, and six of them couldn't lift the Bible. They had also videotaped the event, and a woman was up in the pews.

[Insert ghostly woooing here]

That sounds like a Lindsey blog title. Anyway, we couldn't find the church, but we now have precise directions and plan on going back to temp the fates once more.

Currently listening to: "Justy My Imagination" by the Cranberries
Currently feeling: Tired. Oh so very tired.

This Post Brought to You by Sidelines

Thanks to Manderson for giving me permission to reprint my column on my blog. Don't forget, kids, I don't own my brain - Sidelines does! Also, Manda wrote the headline, if anybody cares.

Evacuees not just victims, but people; Finger-pointing, blame unneccesary

After the disastrous Hurricane Katrina has left, people have started attempting a new life. This, of course, means that government officials have been touring the wreckage, saying all sorts of stupid things.

Politicalhumor.com has listed such quotations, begging the question, "Why are these people in charge?" It really puts the whole disaster thing into perspective.

"I don't think anybody anticipated the breach of the levees." This one belongs to none other than our commander in chief, George W. Bush. This, of course, is laughable. Granted, the notion that Bush is somehow responsible for the hurricane is far-fetched at best, but warnings came. Do a simple Google search of "levee warnings Katrina," and the faithful search engine returns about 214,000 hits. But nobody anticipated it.

"What I'm hearing which is sort of scary is that they all want to stay in Texas. Everybody is so overwhelmed by the hospitality. And so many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this [insert chuckle here] - this is working very well for them."

The chuckle really gets me. This was former first lady Barbara Bush, and normally I'd be inclined to leave her out of this, but I couldn't ignore this one. I highly doubt evacuees are actually thinking, 'That cardboard box wasn't work well for us - let's just live in the Astrodome!' This is why rich people should never be in charge of anything that involves people who aren't rolling in money. They just don't have the capacity to understand or even attempt to fathom the horrors that these people deal with on a daily basis. It's nice that Texas has opened its doors to those in need, but I'd hardly consider being uprooted to the Astrodome because your city has just been obliterated to be "working very well."

"Considering the dire circumstances that we have in New Orleans, virtually a city that has been destroyed, things are going relatively well." Federal Emergency Management Agency Director Michael Brown gave us these words of wisdom. So, yes, aside from the death, destruction and mayhem, it is a beautiful day in the neighborhood. By the way, Brown also said that residents who didn't evacuate bore some responsibility for their fate. That's right, folks, if you don't listen to government warnings, your fate is a watery grave.

"Brownie, you're doing a heck of a job." This was Bush to Brown. How cute. He has a nickname for him. Pardon me for not rushing to pat him on the back. I'm a little distracted by all the cadavers.

"There may be a need to look at tougher penalties on those who decide to ride it out and understand that there are consequences to not leaving." Sen. Rick Santorum, a Republican from Pennsylvania, said. There are penalties for those who didn't evacuate - they lost pretty much everything, if not everything. I think they've learned their lesson. Get them help and quit pointing fingers.

"We finally cleaned up public housing in New Orleans. We couldn't do it, but God did." Rep. Richard Baker, a Republican from Louisiana, said, though I can't imagine what would make him think it was a good idea. That's right, kids, the hurricane was just God's way of cleaning up New Orleans. Hurricane Katrina brought about the kind of devastation we are not used to dealing with, and perhaps that's what led to all the ridiculous quotations. However, it seems far more likely that the people in charge just don't want to get their feet wet or get their hands dirty.

Helping people varies by the individual, but huge governments ought to do more than discuss legislation, point blame and tell the press how sad they are that New Orleans will never be the same again.

If there ever was a time that was completely inappropriate for PR spin, this is it. This isn't about trying to make one group look good and one group look bad. It's hard to come out on top when everything is under water. But genuine compassion goes a long way. Taking time to play with children in the Astrodome would probably mean more to them than a robotic government action of forcing canned goods and grief counselors upon them. The victims of Hurricane Katrina aren't just victims - they're people.

CNN's Anderson Cooper probably put it best with this response to Sen. Mary Landrieu (D-LA), after she went on thanking politicians for encouraging words and harping about Congress "going to an unprecedented session to pass a $10 billion supplemental bill."

Cooper's response: "I haven't heard that, because, for the last four days, I've been seeing dead bodies in the streets here in Mississippi. And to listen to politicians thanking each other and complimenting each other ... it kind of cuts them the wrong way right now, because literally there was a body on the streets of this town yesterday being eaten by rats because this woman had been laying in the street for 48 hours. And there's not enough facilities to take her up. Do you get the anger that is out here?"

Precisely my point.

Check it out online here.

I got a comment from a reader. Naturally, he criticized the headline (something many readers do), which, as I mentioned before, I didn't write. My favorite part is how he thinks I'm married and keeps referring to me as "Mrs."

I've Just Been Diagnosed with a Lindsey Complex

...and the only cure is more cowbell. Please, someone had to have gotten that.

Tonight we had a celebration for Khall's new job with the AP - they're associated!

In the midst of the debauchery, I thought it would be a great idea to call Lindsey sometime around 2:30 a.m. to tell her what I'd just discovered: I have a Lindsey Complex.

It's true. Every day I read her blog and think, "Wow. I'm such a self-centered asshole." Then I keep reading and marvel at her way with words. Yet again, thoughts come to mind: "Lindsey is so much better than me," and "I should be more like Lindsey."

So, tonight, I offer my tribute to Lindsey. It also comes with a disclaimer: Don't worry, Lindsey, this isn't a half-assed attempt to get in your pants. It's just a friendly reminder that, you know, you're better than most people.

Here are a few reasons why Lindsey is better than most people and why we should all strive to be more like Lindsey (provided, of course, that we maintain some sense of self).

*Lindsey hired me as a copy editor, promoting me from smart-ass columnist to smart-ass columnist and style dictator.

I remember when I handed in my style quiz. She said, "Wow, you marked some shit up." That's right. I marked some shit up.

*When Patrick was editor and he gave us a style quiz (no books allowed), Lindsey and I tied for first place, finding all but two errors. Yes, my friends, Lindsey knows her style and grammar, and frankly, that matters to me.

*Lindsey can design damn near anything and do it better than damn near anyone.

Ask to see some of her stuff if you don't believe me. It's Quark-tastic. OK, pretend like I didn't type that. Let's move on...

*Lindsey named one of her ferrets Gonzo. That's just cool.

*Lindsey let me read her copy of The Passion, a fabulous Jeanette Winterson book. Lindsey has great taste in books, so anything she likes is a must-read.

*Lindsey is a great writer, and I don't just mean newspaper articles. She has a natural talent that cannot be taught.

*Lindsey reads my blog and leaves the occasional comment so I know she stopped by. I'm OK with that. I also get referrals from her blog, so thanks for linking me.

Well, I could keep going, but I fear a restraining order would follow. Lindsey, the remaining Sidelines kids miss you. We think of you often, and sometimes just sit around talking about your greatness. I swear - that's actually happened.

Here's hoping Memphis is treating you well, and if not, you will always have a home in the Boro.

Aww...tear.

"It seems like the daylight is coming and no one is watching but me"

I'm creating a wish list. Maybe someday I'll get to check some stuff off. We'll see.

1. I wish I were more intelligent.

Since I got to college, I feel that my IQ has dropped significantly. Naturally, I've learned a lot, but I just don't feel smart. I know I am, but I could be better. I try to surround myself with people who are smarter than I am, but they are gone now, working in the real world, overseas, in grad school, making the world safe for whatever is endangered: freedom, ideology, revolution, progress, change.

2. I wish I took more time to myself.

I do this for a while, but it soon takes a back seat to everyone else in my life. Why do I feel I am the least worthy of my time?

3. I wish I read at least one book for pleasure each month.

I usually have so much to do between school and both jobs that I barely have time to not do my homework and sleep through class. There are so many books that I want to read, along with all the ones I want to read again. I imagine being a workaholic will pay off someday, but I'm not convinced that it will be worth it.

4. I wish I were beautiful.

It's shallow, I know, but I grew up with a perfect sister, so I'm taking a little license here. Contrary to what my narcissism suggests, I don't think I'm that great. I'm not that impressed with myself. I wish I were, though. There are days when I'm completely satisfied and others when I know I'm just not there yet. I'm working on it, though.

5. I wish to publish something.

I've always loved writing, and it's one of the things I think I'm good at. I have inhibitions about sharing it with others, though.

6. I wish to get my PhD in mathematics.

I'm fascinated the more I learn, and I don't think I'll be satisfied until I make a valiant effort at learning all I can, or, at least, all I can at this moment.

7. I wish to get married someday.

I think it would be nice to have someone. I really don't know what that's like - being with the right person. I know what it's like to be with the wrong person, which is why I'm not married yet. I want to have a career, but I also want a family. I imagine some would say it's in our nature to further the species, but I think it comes down to one thing: It's not that I need someone to complete me, but I want someone to complement me. It's a different concept. However, it's becoming increasingly obvious to me that there is a good chance this will not happen. It seems to fit with anyone (at least, that has been the case thus far), I would have to alter who I am, and I'm not willing to sacrifice myself. I at least hold myself in that high of a regard. I have an ability to end comfortable relationships because I know they aren't right for me, and I find that trait to be a useful one.

8. I wish to dance in the rain.

I swear, I'm going to do this someday. I might as well, because I've been harping about it since at least middle school.

Bonus points for knowing what song the title comes from.

Who's the Big Winner? Galileo! Galileo!

I had a LONG afternoon at work, followed by entirely too much fun working drive-thru with Kevin and coming up with ridiculous coffee songs to the tunes of such favorites as "Any Man of Mine" and "Bohemian Rhapsody." Kevin broke out with "Soy to the World," and I about lost it. I think my "Bohemian Rhapsody" was the big winner.

Who's the big winner?

Mikey's the big winner!

Hey, JR got it.

If I could remember all the lyrics to one of the crazy coffee songs, I'd post it. Perhaps I'll write one sometime. I mean, really, what else am I going to do?

I slept through stats today and was half an hour late to calculus. Luckily, Dr. Kholodnyi didn't care. Here's my Calc IV homework: ∫sin²θdθ on the interval of π/4 to π/2. Argh. It's more complex than most integration because it's a product and has to be integrated as such. It's painstakingly tedious. Gone are the days of ∫ 3x²dx. How I miss you, x³.

There are fraternity boys in the house. I should be more bothered by people randomly coming into my house and bitching about crime log at 1:24 a.m., but I'm not. I'm used to the masses thinking that rules and public flow of information should not apply to them. Oh, will they ever learn? This is not just a shot at the Greekdom that tends to dominate crime log, but it is rather amusing that the groups who end up in the situations always blame those who find out instead of those who are actually at fault. Sigh.

In other news, Arnold's going to use that veto power he has to stop the same-sex marriage bill. Oh, people of California, why did you elect the Kindergarten Cop?

At least Bush didn't let Katrina cramp his vacation style. That was my sarcastic voice.

Before I go, with all the list-making going on, I had to add a few more things about me, an ode to the tomboy in me, or, more accurately, the part of me that is less indicative of me having a vagina. VAGINA! That was for you, Lindsey.

* I scream at my television when I watch football. I don't think there's anything wrong with this.

* I sometimes do it while watching NASCAR. This is slightly embarrassing.

* I don't think I could handle it if I actually got to meet Tom Glavine, El Duque, Frank Wycheck, or Drew Bennett.

* I know I couldn't handle it if I got to meet Don Schula.

* If you want to get me really riled up, bring up Eddie George and Steve McNair playing together. I once went on a tangent that had my dad frightened.

* I once had to work during the Super Bowl. I brought a radio and an assortment of chips and asked every drive-thru customer what the score was. I now ask off well in advance for Super Bowl Sunday.

* My uncle taught me how to throw a spiral on the beach when I was 13.

* I've been told I drink liquor "like a champ."

* I can eat more steak than my father.

* In high school, I challenged the men in my family to a catfish eating contest and won.

* To the surprise of many, I don't chase my shots. I never have, and I never will.

Check out the new photo. I picked it only because I like the way my lips look in it. Is that weird?

Happy Anniversary/Antianniversary to Michaela

Well, I feel I should make some sort of list, because I like doing that. So here are some things that have actually happened to me lately.

1. I've become convinced that someone in the Sidelines office is out to get me by erasing my board every day.

2. I let Michaela mix me a really strong drink. This was a bad idea.

3. On the same night, Michaela and I declared that we were spouses.

4. Still the same night, we divorced over Star Wars Monopoly.

5. I walked from Murphy Center to Mass Comm in a sports bra.

6. I threw a half a block of Post-Its at the wall six inches away from me.

7. I spent 12 hours in the Sidelines office on a tab that didn't get printed due to miscommunication with the printer.

8. I got invited to a TKE party by a complete stranger.

9. I went to Marble Slab Creamery twice in one week.

10. The second time I bought a quart.

11. I bought Katie dinner twice in one week.

12. I donated to Hurricane Katrina victims.

13. I spent more than $8 on dinner at Mrs. Winner's.

14. I went to bed before 2 a.m.

15. I didn't make it to my first class today because I was too tired. I woke up at 8:30, and I considered it "sleeping in."