I Am the Walrus

Mannix is dead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Now, a Word from Our Sponsor

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One Malibu and Coke: $5.00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Attention Brainiacs: It's Time to Breed More

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

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

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

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

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

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

Matt-Who? No, that's lame.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, JR! Look at the time I posted.

3 Chicks, 3 Davids, and a Non-David

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think I'll end with that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Fuck, I Dropped My Crackers! OR Here I Come to Save the Gays!

I'm sitting in the Sidelines office with Manda, Colby, Matt, K-Hall, and the rest of the gang. Erica's here, too. I'm going to blog about Erica someday, but today is no such day.

I arrived in the office after working on my day off. I had an interview with Kristin (ne K-Hall) and found out that I'm going to do the Web site again next semester. Translation: I don't suck!

I also found out that instead of our usual March trip to NYC, we're jetting off to San Francisco, the land of cable cars, Rice-A-Roni, and Full House - a gay man's dream. Unfortunately, I am no gay man, though this is truly only unfortunate from a blogging perspective.

I won the lottery! Actually, I just got an extra pack of crackers out of the vening machine, but since I wasn't using my own money in the first place, it's like winning the lottery.

I got to see Adam for a whole 40 minutes last night before he had to go home. This sucks. This more than sucks. It sure was nice when we could do something other than meet up and say, "Hi. How are you? I missed you. I'm tired. I have to go now."

Hi. How are you? I missed you. I'm tired. I have to go now.

Let me drunk! I'm not drive!

Well, the long break for Thanksgiving meant I got to spend some quality time drinking with my parents. Here's the story.

Wednesday I was off from work, and the rest of the days I worked day shifts, if at all. So Wednesday night I met my parents at The Shack to hear Sammy play, along with Linda and Jimmy, Mike and Fran, and some guy (John I think) and his wife Linda.

I had about three drinks, a steak, and some dessert. At about 11 we decided to leave on account that everyone else, including the staff, was about to. Earlier in the evening Mike and Fran left, and since they rode with Linda and Jimmy, my dad told them to take the CRV.

Well, when the rest of our crew was ready to go, we realized there were few sober drivers and even fewer seats in vehicles.

Because I'd stopped drinking two hours ago, I drove my mom and dad home, first having to clear my mom off a small space to sit in the backseat of my car, then sternly telling my dad not to sit in the driver's seat, because he tried to.

Friday night was another night of fun as Adam came to visit (yeah, I know I promised not to blog about my boyfriend. Oh well). My parents spent the evening stealing each others' beers when the other wasn't looking. Naturally, Adam and I both had a little too much to drink, so neither one of us could operate a motor vehicle. My dad drove. Again, it was a default thing.

It was nice having a few drinks Friday, because family get-togethers sometimes leave me thinking "Gee, I could really go for a shot or two or eight right about now."

The Livestock Center Is Surprisingly High Tech OR I'm A Mighty Kid!

So I'm sitting in the Livestock Center at some makeshift cowboy apartment vvhich is surprisingly high tech despite the fact that the "vv" key doesn't vvork and I have to type a "v" tvvice in rapid succession.

Tina's competing in the AGR Hay Daze Svveetheart Pageant, and all is going vvell thus far, other than the fact that it's so damn cold I'm about to get hypothermia, and the space bar only occasionally vvorks. Damn that double v.

Initiation vvas this vveekend. Katie gave me her Phi Chi fleece! I'm so excited!

That's all folks - I've got to get back to the pageant stuff.

Waiting to EX-Hail to the Chief

Here I am on Election Day. I voted. I even have a sticker that says, appropriately, "I Voted." It doesn't say anything like "Kiss Me, I Voted" or "Fuck Me, I Voted." I just voted.

Now I'm sitting, nervously biting my nails...actually not, but if I had that nasty habit, I assure you I'd be biting right now. I'm thinking of starting smoking.

Now, I'm really hoping that Kerry makes me proud here, and not just because I had to pay money on my taxes last year, although that was BULLSHIT because I'm a full-time student with two jobs. But I digress.

Here's hoping to a successful night for the Democrats. It's not looking so hot, but I'm optimistic. We need New Hampshire, and Nevada wouldn't hurt. Come on, boys, I'm counting on you.

Now, as much as I'd love to stick around and blog about my nervousness, I really need to go back to my apartment, but DO NOT mistake that for wanting to go back. I'd just as soon kiss a Wookie.

I'm Still Not Pregnant

So I haven't blogged in a month. It's true. But I have good reason - I've been sick.

Not "I have a cold" sick. More like "Oh dear God I have the plague and I've been in bed for a month" sick. Really, ask around - it's true. I have mono. But I didn't always have mono. At one time, I just had a terrible ear infection and a bad case of tonsilitis.

So I go to see this doctor on campus and he looks in my ear and goes "Ohhh" all concerned like. He then looks at my throat and makes another disapproving sound as though he was afraid of whatever was inside. Now, this is not a reaction I like getting from a doctor when he examines any part of my body. Actually, I don't much care for that reaction from anyone.

So, here I am, eight prescriptions, five doctor visits and an emergency room trip later. Still sick. Still infected by some crazy supervirus. Well, it's the mono, and some other infections.

And no, to all you smartasses out there (and believe me, I'm one of them), Adam doesn't have mono. And yes, he does still kiss me, even though I have mono. What a guy!

So at the ER, I of course had to wear one of those backless gowns that are not only backless but also nearly impossible to tie by yourself, especially if you can't move too well because you've got severe abdominal pain, the source of which you've yet to determine, hence the ER visit. And no, there is no chance I could be pregnant, but thanks for asking seven or eight times, just in case I forgot what it takes to make a baby. You know, if it were a possibility, I would've thought of that, because beginning at age 14 everytime I've had a stomach ache I've been asked that - AT LEAST TWICE. So back off with the pregnant talk, OK? Unless it's the baby Jesus, we can skip the pregnancy test disguised as a urine sample. I know you're gonna screen it for pregnancy. I wish everytime a man had a stomach ache some doctor or nurse asked him "Is there any chance you could've gotten someone pregnant?"

What comes to mind? "I shouldn't have worn a thong today." After they made me pee in a cup, the nurse man (who was really nice) came in to take my blood. Well, a few months ago I got this tattoo, and sometimes I forget I have it. I'll just be changing and look in the mirror and be like "Hey! That's cool!" but since I can't see it, I don't think about it much now. He commented on it, and of course, I follow with a witty "You're not going to believe this, but I'm terrible with needles."

So I cried for my dad, whined about missing Adam, and just generally had a bad time with the blood-taking experience. He did a good job, though; I'm just not one for bloodwork, especially since they took it last week to do the mono test.

JR's finally got around to updating his blog (ironically, I got onto him about never blogging and then I got more than a month without blogging), so I'm getting to read about life in the mother country. We still have no internet access at the apartment, but due to the doctor's order that I stay in bed and slowly waste away in Hendersonville for at least three days, I'm at the ready for the blogging.

Well, I'm off to get BACK in bed and do some more of that resting I've gotten so good at. What can I say - I get a lot of practice. But first, the top five perks of having mono.

• Everyone is really nice to you when they know you have the power to unleash the kind of germs that will floor them for a good month or so.
• It's fun to get! It's the "kissing disease" - awww yeah. Actually, I don't know how I got it. The doctors speculate that I got it because my resisitance was so low due to the ridiculous amount of other health problems I'd been having (remember the horrifying throat? I wasn't kidding about that) that it was easier for me to get. But having mono does make people wonder "Who have you been kissing?" You know, it helps with my pimp status.
• There is no such thing as a bad movie or TV show when you're lying on the couch in pain with a fever. It could've been the fever, or the fact that I was too weak to actually change the channel, but reruns of "Pimp My Ride" and the Real World/Road Rules battle of the sexes really aren't that bad.
• Side effects can be rewarding. They gave me some narcotic pain pill that I'm not supposed to take and drive because it can cause drowsiness. So last Saturday night I took it around 1:30 a.m., once I'd gotten home from work and made a quick bite to eat. I lay awake in bed until 8:15 when I got up for work, and I don't mean I was kind of drowsy and dozed a few minutes. I was wide the hell awake. But here's the thing: At work the next day, I didn't feel sleep deprived. I worked for 10 hours with no break (I never get breaks) and didn't feel any more tired than I usually do. Then it occurred to me: Duh! I took a narcotic! So I got a glimpse at what life would be like on speed: Stay up all night and never feel tired. Of course, I slept a really long time once I actually got home from work.
• It's like a mini vacation! Yeah, when you're sick and contagious, people pretty much leave you alone. I mean, no one wants to get mono, so say goodbye to people invading your personal space or wanting you to go sit at some crappy restaurant with a group of people and drink coffee for two hours. "Gee, I'd love to go, but I've got mono. I'm supposed to stay in bed. Otherwise, I'd be happy to help you rearrange your closet and alphabetize your pantry. Maybe when I get better in four to six weeks." I mean, by that time, they've forgotten. There is one exception to this: Adam doesn't leave me alone. Which is good! Because it's really good for the ego when you've been sick with mono for a month (don't worry, I'm getting to the ego boost) and your boyfriend rolls over and starts kissing your neck in his sleep. I mean, how sweet is that? Granted, he has no idea he's doing it, but it's still nice.

Now I'm going to bed, because the abdominal pain in coming back, most likely because my pain pill has worn off. And no, there's still no chance I could be pregnant.

These People Got the Bronze in the Human Race

I liked my last list blog so much that I decided to create another one, this one devoted solely to the many types of people who annoy me. Enjoy.

People I Can Do Without:

• Parents who let their undisciplined children run rampant through my store dripping sweet and sour frooze pops on everything in sight. I know you think it's cute, but it's not cute enough to outweigh the annoyance that I incur while trying to rid the Bubble Tape of the sticky goo. There are reasons why these things come with lids. Wait until you're safe inside your power-door convertible backseat minivan to rip that sucker open. In fact, kids shouldn't be handling any product that includes the words "sticky goo" without a helmet and adult supervision. You know, the whole "Keep out of the reach of children" really ought to apply to those neon-colored sugar fixes, too. Oh, and don't eat the silicon. It's not good for you.
• Anyone willing to argue for more than 10 minutes about a late fee less than 10 dollars. Get a life. Deal with it. You know, think of all the times you thought you had a late fee but didn't. I mean, really, you're balancing out.
• Any professor who expects you to do anything other than sleep in on a holiday weekend. Your class is important, but it is not the only class I have, and when it's Labor Day weekend, as far as I'm concerned, I have no classes. Just think, the less you make me do, the less you have to do. Everybody wins!
• Anyone who calls me on my off day for a reason other than death or near death or disaster of some sort. The longest I do without work is one day off. It can wait. I know you don't think it can, but it can. Trust me. I know these things. You don't want to hear the type of solution I'm going to come up with at 9:27 a.m. on my day off. For all intents and purposes, I don't exist between the hours of 5 a.m. and 1 p.m. During those times, I cease to be.

Well, hopefully I've regained some blog respect after my last sub-par entry. But just in case that list didn't do it: Joey is still cool.

DELETED!

Wow. I've really been neglecting my blog lately. How sad.

Actually, I was on vacation for a while. After that, I went right back to school, living in my apartment with no Internet access. Hence my lack of blogging.

So what's been happening to me the past 16 days, you ask? Well, I have a boyfriend now! But I refuse to be one of those girls who blogs about her boyfriend, so that's all for that.

I had entirely too much fun deleting some people from my cell phone. You know, every now and then you've got to scroll through the numbers, and if you find yourself asking "Who is that?" it's time to erase and shout "DELETED!"

I have a virtual pet thing named Spike. He's three. He's sleeping right now, so he can't come out to play. Oh well. Adam and Tina are both on their second pet - theirs died. But Spike lives!

My work screwed up my check AGAIN this week and didn't put my raise on it, so they owe me a hefty bit of cash whenever they decide to backpay me for their screwups.

My tattoo is now finished - it has color, and it looks really good. Next stop on the Wendy Express: Eyebrow ring.

Well, now I'm going to eat my Jersey Mike's sub and watch The Rundown or various episodes of Buffy Season 2. And yes, I know this blog was extremely lame and not as witty as I usually am. I promise to be more charming next time.

Tonight: Partly Cloudy, Tomorrow: Republicans

In less than 12 hours, I will be on a nonstop flight to New York City. This is quite exciting - I haven't had a vacation in far too long. And what's better than jetting off to the land of tall buildings, fast cabs and overpriced, well, everything? Not much.

However, while I'm basking in the joys of my vacation, New York will be invaded by...Republicans!

Yes, it just so happens that the lovely congregating of these people - the Republican National Convention - will be getting underway while I'm galavanting around the big city. Naturally, I've prepared accordingly.

I'm fully equipped with the First Amendment. In true liberal fashion, this is my defense to everything. It's like verbal pepper spray, and it works wonders on conservatives:
"You can't say that!"
"Actually, I'm protected by the First Amendment."
"What? Ahhh! The only amendment that matters is the second - guns, guns, guns!"

I'm also toting my razor-sharp wit. This will come in handy when they bring out the Botox jokes. I'll just unleash a stream of witticisms and watch in awe as they marvel at my quick yet cunning retorts. If only I had a Clinton T-shirt. Then I'd really be ready to hit the Big Apple.

At any rate, I'm very excited about my trip. I've never flown alone before, and what better time to try that out than straight into LaGuardia in the midst of a political bruhaha.

I've also never chased a shoplifter until tonight, but there's a first time for everything. He was scared of me, too. "Oh shit, the little girl's gonna kill me!"

A special shout-out to Erica - happy birthday! Try not to get so drunk that you don't remember it, because someone will, and you don't want the stories to be too embarassing.

And for anyone wondering, I'm obviously still on my streak of good days and nights or I would've blogged sooner. Yes, it is still good to be me.

My Windshield Says I Have Squirrelly Wrath

I had the greatest block of hours I've had in a long time last night. One of the many reasons was an impulse-buying extravaganza at Wal-Mart. Where else can you get candy bars, cookies, caldendars (which, the Tina, I might have left on your table in your living room), shirts, and oil for Mannix? Life just doesn't get much better than that. After having way too much fun with the window chalk on every car belonging to someone we knew within walking distance, we retreated to watch The Exorcist, which I had never seen before. The other hours of my night and morning were great also. So great, in fact, that I'm not even going to blog about them. Sometimes it's good to be me.

Oh, and to my Meggers: I love you! I'm thinking about you all the time - so much, in fact, that I could become obsessive. You should feel special - I'm only obsessive about people who are as great as I am. OK, all kidding aside, I hope that you feel as good as humanly possible. Meggers' Keggers!

Abso-fucking-lutely Cathartic

After reading Joey's blog, I've decided to make a few lists of my own. Enjoy.

Things I'm Tired of Being Asked

• "Do you work here?" No. I like to dress up in Blockbuster attire and walk around to confuse the customers. You know, once, while in Kroger (in Blockbuster attire), I got asked this same question. I've also been mistaken for a Wal-Mart employee. I don't even own a blue vest.
• "Did it (getting your tattoo) hurt?" No. It felt great. I love having needles in me for an hour and half. It's like acupuncture, only instead of healing you, you get a permanent mark on you. Neat.
• "Is The Passion of the Christ out yet?" "When is it coming out?" "Can I reserve a copy to rent now?" Ahh! I have been asked this at least thrice a day since May, and that's being optimistic. April is more like it. August 31. Mark your freakin' Palm Pilot so you'll remember that date. August 31. Thankfully, I will not be working that day. I will be getting the color on my tattoo. Oh, and to avoid future questions: Yes, that will hurt, too.

Celebrities I Would Date If I Were Famous

• Johnny Depp in Chocolat
• Orlando Bloom in Lord of the Rings
• Orlando Bloom in Pirates of the Caribbean
• Orlando Bloom in Troy (I haven't seen it yet, but I'm sure he's hot in that, too)
• Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean ("Why is the rum gone?" That's my kind of man)
• Johnny Depp in What's Eating Gilbert Grape (OK, I lied. I'd marry him in that one)
• Ewan McGregor in Moulin Rouge
• Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge (Come on, who wouldn't?)
• Ewan McGregor in Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
• Hayden Christensen in Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones
• James Marsters in Buffy seasons 2, 5, 6, and 7
• Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall

Words I Say Too Often

• Random
• Tragic
• Dramatic
• Traumatic
• Tattoo
• Fuck
• Evil
• Buddha
• Tranquil

Words I'd Like to Work into Every Conversation

• Cathartic
• Kinesthetic
• Abso-fucking-lutely
• Auspicious
• Hedonist
• Love (Aww, I do have a soft side)

Places I'd Like to be Right Now

• New York City
• Deacon Brodie's, my favorite NYC bar
• The Tina's
• Greece (I've never been, but I think I'd like it)
• Wherever Johnny Depp is right now
• Wherever Orlando Bloom is right now (This becomes #1 on the list if he and Johnny are in the same place)
• Bed
• Disney World
• Some beach far away from the hurricane
• A hot tub or in a bubble bath (damn the new tattoo)

That's all for now.

High Like a Twelve-year-old

I've been on boy high since Saturday, and I haven't come down yet. It's great. I forgot how great that was. You know, being wrapped up in my man-hating, I forgot how much fun it is to have a crush on someone. It makes me feel like a twelve-year-old again, only now I've got breasts and a tattoo.

Falling in Love is Hard on the Knees, Falling out of Love is Dramatic

I've had an interesting few days, and that's putting it mildly.

First off, I'm living a day ahead of everyone else. For some reason, I keep thinking it's a day later than what it really is. I'm living in the future. That's because I'm much more advanced than most people.

I had a great two days off from work, and by great I mean I spent most of them with the Tina and other such great people I don't get to see on a regular basis. I didn't stick around Hendersonville on my days off - I actually went to Murfreesboro. I had much fun. Looking forward to more fun.

Then, last night and tonight, I've been doing something I never thought I'd do - fall out of love. And, in all honesty, it's not as difficult or traumatic as I had expected. It was a quick fall. Now, if I were clever, I'd make some kind of reference to Paradise Lost, but I'm not really in a literary mood.

Right now I'm enjoying a snack of peanut butter (there's not much to eat here). My mouth is sticky, but it's delicious. Satisfies my constant need to add even more protein to my diet.

Speaking of satisfying needs, there's nothing like playing a murdering lunatic in an XBOX game to help blow off some steam, which now I can do thanks to Clarke and his generous donation to my goal to be evil (at least, in an rpg). Clarke has allowed me to borrow his XBOX and my favorite game so I can kill all kinds of things. Thanks, Clarke. You're a pal.

I finally bought my Buddha incense burner, so now I can ignite things in peace. It should be big fun.

So this falling out of love thing - I'll explain this later. Right now, suffice it to say that I've been spending a great deal of time talking to someone, and this someone has brought to light some rather interesting things. This is of course only a segue into what is sure to be even more drama because nothing in life is simple, which I guess is why it's interesting. At any rate, I used to have this image of someone, and now I see that I was terribly wrong. And that's devastating, and not just because I don't like being wrong.

You think you know a person. I guess no one every really knows anyone. But I know me pretty well, and I'm through crying. I've cried way too much, and I don't like it, and I'm through with it. I've gone from hurt to sad to confused to destroyed to hopeful to destroyed to angry to confused again all in about a week, and frankly, I'm emotioned out.

I Cried at Six Flags Over Jesus

Kari got married, and it was beautiful. The church she had it at is this massively large new Methodist church in Murfreesboro. The church is so big, in fact, that some of my friends have dubbed it "Six Flags Over Jesus."

So when the time came for my Lil Sis Kari to walk down the aisle on her wedding day, I cried. It's weird that I cry at weddings, but I do. Partly because she's growing up, getting married, starting a new life and it's something that we all kind of have to let her do on her own. Partly it's because I'm happy for her. And I think partly it's because I'm sad for me. Kari has a kind of happiness that I don't, and while I'd rather see her happy than myself happy, it's still nice to have something to look forward to. I don't have much to look forward to these days.

Let's backtrack a bit to Thursday. Thursday is a day I'd rather forget, but odds are I'm not going to, so we might as well just cut to the chase. Very short story because the details are about as painful as getting a tattoo (which I will get to later) go as follows: Someone I love very much cares not whether I live or die.

Now, love is an extremely intense emotion. Hate is an extremely intense emotion. Indifference might as well be a non-emotion. There are few if any people on this planet I am indifferent to, and it sure as hell isn't anyone I ever loved in any way.

Que sera sera. So come Friday (my first day off in two weeks) I decided that if I was going to go through intense emotional pain, I needed something to show for it. Ergo, my new tattoo. The Tina got one, too. So now I'm permanently scarred - literally. Wasn't that clever? How I tied that together? Yeah, I amaze myself somethings, but enough of the biting sarcasm.

Friday night turned into a lovely episode of some show I'd call "A Girl, a Guy, and a Jeremy" if I were pitching it to a network television executive. First we have the Tina. Second is Clarke. Third is Jeremy. Now, watching these three in a room (and that happens quite often being as though they live together) is more entertaining than any reality television show they've got.

And lest I piss anyone off to the point of no return, this next part is, you know, supposed to be FUNNY. Not real. Funny, with slices of reality mixed in.

Jeremy is this strong guy with some nice tattoos and some nice muscles. The funniest thing about him is that he's currently involved in some penis rediscovery that makes everything he does incredibly funny, and if it isn't incredibly funny, Clarke makes an incredibly funny comment about it.

Clarke has some muscles, too. And a tattoo. So you've got two tattooed strong guys in a house, so you're naturally going to have some fun interaction. Clarke, by the way, is not rediscovering his penis and is mainly concerned with never discovering Jeremy's. This alone is a sitcom.

Enter the Tina, the token girl with the token cat. Also the token smoker. So what each episode about is basically it's almost bedtime, but everyone is restless. Hilarity ensues.

Episode One: The Gigantic Chickens
Episode Two: Can I Break It, Fuck It, or Eat It?

But enough of that - you guys know I only do this because I love you and I think you're all very funny.

To Kari and Matt: I love you guys. Enjoy marital bliss. Have some for me!