Missing Riverdance

I really thought today would be one of those days that I would have tons to blog about. And really, I guess despite all the craziness that is always circling through my head, there really isn’t much to say. I covered American Idol. Nothing of note happened at work. Hell, I can’t even report on any evil salads that tricked me into buying them in the cafeteria.

Pookie is moving in with her boyfriend this weekend, in another town. I’m super happy for her, (even though she coaxed me into moving all the way out here where I only know her and now is taking off) and I really like C. He seems like he will be good for her. And the monkeys. And that’s exactly what she needs. Someone who isn’t in jail or rehab and doesn’t treat her like a pet. (And C, if you are reading this and any of these things occur, I will hunt you down and torture you with tweezers and sharp things.) So, things are looking up.

Since I have decided not to move to the other side of the planet, I am crossing fingers that Spliff will decide to move back to continue our roomie-hood for a little while longer. Because, as much as I love living alone, there is nothing better than that thing. Even when we were completely broke with no heat or air conditioning, in the middle of hurricanes with no power, we had fun. We stuck a bunch of beer in a cooler and played drunken War until we passed out on the couch. I need some more of that. (Or hippie hooping in the yard in the middle of the night. Or stealing gigantic stuffed animals and running down busy roads. Or Debauchery Day. Or attempting the “Thriller” dance in the kitchen. Or our pajama-clad productions of Riverdance…I could go on.)

Other than that, even though there is stuff going on, it isn’t really blog material.

Basically, the majority of what’s been happening with me has been personal. And even with some of my best friends who read this, I don’t feel like sharing. Because some of those best friends don’t approve of things that have nothing to do with them. Some of those people are destined to make me feel like an asshole just for doing what makes me happy. And although that bothers me, I know that this isn’t the place for that kind of thing. I don’t know where that place is, but it isn’t here.

But, that said, even though my decisions and plans may make other people upset, they make me happy, and that is what should matter. And…well, even though people disappoint me sometimes, I still think…you know, if they are happy…then I am happy.

Also…I forgot to mention this earlier. Is it just me, or did Clay Aiken look like a plastic action figure of himself?

Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: "Selfish" - Slum Village