Yesterday, I got a text message from Pinhead saying that his wife is pregnant. Now, I know, I haven't really explained this whole Pinhead-Got-Married thing...But that is because a) the whole dating to getting married process took approximately 17 minutes, b) it still doesn't seem like it actually happened because I haven't seen him since he got hitched and c) I am a terrible blogger. So yeah, Pinhead is gonna be a daddy again. This is not the first time, but this time he actually told me before the kid was two. So, I am excited for him. This time, I hope the "baby mama" isn't a lunatic. Only time will tell.
Tory is also pregnant with baby number two. This still creeps me out because I had always thought she and I would be the last to start popping out kids (ME, of course, being the last, because I can't stand them) but there she is, the first out of me, Spliff and Aly.
This isn't the end of it though, Ricky Retardo has moved in with a girl. Yes, the same Ricky Retardo who had a crush on me and every single one of my friends and who has never, in the million years that I have known him, had a girlfriend for more than a month.
Is it just me or are my friends getting weird? I mean, I am living with my heterosexual life partner and our two cats and dating a kindergartener and my friends are getting married and having kids and stuff. Gross, you guys. Effing stop it, you're harshing my mellow. (Yeah, I totally just went all Encino Man on your asses. What?)
At least I get text messages that say, "I am going to do terrible things to you" rather than ones that say, "Can you pick up diapers on the way home?" Jealous? I thought so.
Showing posts with label Ricky Retardo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ricky Retardo. Show all posts
7.02.2008
4.09.2007
The Buzz
I got a sort of desperate call from D on Friday night.
D: Can I tell you something?
Me: Uh oh, what's up?
D: I bought Ad Rock a present and I am kind of regretting it.
Me: What the heck did you buy?
Me: Guitar Hero. He won't stop. It is like a concert in there and now I can't play Super Mario World ever again.
It was very sad and had I not been prepping to watch "Intervention" (which I may need an intervention from because I am starting to become a little dependent), I would have had to rush right over and…well…intervene. (Do you sense a pattern here?) Needless to say, I stayed home, drank wine and watched the coke addicted dude get high and kicked out of rehab 13 times. What can I say? It makes me feel like a super well-adjusted individual. Is that so bad?
It is, however, a good thing that they only show two episodes in a row or I might never have left the house this weekend and I would have missed out on "Springing in the Blues" which was, while not the same as in years past when Ricky Retardo and Jess lived just a few blocks away, a pretty good time. I did miss the routine of the festival days with Ricky, but I think I might be getting too old for that level of debauchery. You know…but not as old as Ricky. (Yeah, Ricky, you are effing OLD!) This year, we only stayed for a few hours and slipped in and out of a nearby bar to avoid portapotties (read: to do shots and see the cute bartender). We even ran into Rad Neighbor. It is so weird to have a neighbor who leaves the house and actually speaks to people. It is also weird that he hears that we are at home, grabs beers and walks up to hang out…Now I feel like I am home. Finally.
In other news, I might be taking another huge career step (or plunge off of the career bridge, if you will). After the utterly ascinine situation in the new job (despite how much I like the work), I am starting to feel that I just need to start over. I need to stop worrying about being with the same company for 8 million years and selling my soul to a company that doesn't appreciate me. I don't necessarily blame the company, I blame the people in charge. And who knows, maybe it will be a blessing for me to get out of here and see what the rest of the world has to offer. I have to say, though, I will really miss the jeans and flip flops. But hey, if I do decide to leave, I guess I can wear pajamas all day, after all. I am wondering if I can afford to get the heck out of here, get student loans and manage a part time job until I graduate. But this is all too deep for a Monday morning. If you'll excuse me, I am going to take my lunch break and chop my hair off now. (After a breakup, you always chop your hair off…it's, like, a rule.)
D: Can I tell you something?
Me: Uh oh, what's up?
D: I bought Ad Rock a present and I am kind of regretting it.
Me: What the heck did you buy?
Me: Guitar Hero. He won't stop. It is like a concert in there and now I can't play Super Mario World ever again.
It was very sad and had I not been prepping to watch "Intervention" (which I may need an intervention from because I am starting to become a little dependent), I would have had to rush right over and…well…intervene. (Do you sense a pattern here?) Needless to say, I stayed home, drank wine and watched the coke addicted dude get high and kicked out of rehab 13 times. What can I say? It makes me feel like a super well-adjusted individual. Is that so bad?
It is, however, a good thing that they only show two episodes in a row or I might never have left the house this weekend and I would have missed out on "Springing in the Blues" which was, while not the same as in years past when Ricky Retardo and Jess lived just a few blocks away, a pretty good time. I did miss the routine of the festival days with Ricky, but I think I might be getting too old for that level of debauchery. You know…but not as old as Ricky. (Yeah, Ricky, you are effing OLD!) This year, we only stayed for a few hours and slipped in and out of a nearby bar to avoid portapotties (read: to do shots and see the cute bartender). We even ran into Rad Neighbor. It is so weird to have a neighbor who leaves the house and actually speaks to people. It is also weird that he hears that we are at home, grabs beers and walks up to hang out…Now I feel like I am home. Finally.
In other news, I might be taking another huge career step (or plunge off of the career bridge, if you will). After the utterly ascinine situation in the new job (despite how much I like the work), I am starting to feel that I just need to start over. I need to stop worrying about being with the same company for 8 million years and selling my soul to a company that doesn't appreciate me. I don't necessarily blame the company, I blame the people in charge. And who knows, maybe it will be a blessing for me to get out of here and see what the rest of the world has to offer. I have to say, though, I will really miss the jeans and flip flops. But hey, if I do decide to leave, I guess I can wear pajamas all day, after all. I am wondering if I can afford to get the heck out of here, get student loans and manage a part time job until I graduate. But this is all too deep for a Monday morning. If you'll excuse me, I am going to take my lunch break and chop my hair off now. (After a breakup, you always chop your hair off…it's, like, a rule.)
5.11.2006
Kevin Bacon, free shoes, and the F-Word
For the life of me, I can’t remember how Ricky and I linked me to Kevin Bacon in 2 degrees. Ricky? You there? Help a sista out. Obviously, I know that it started with the Village Idiot, but seriously…
Today, I have been on my best behavior. I came to work. I did my job (and read lots of blogs). I did not speak. I hung a neon, flashing sign that says “Beware of Criz” right over “the cube of death” and drank just enough coffee to keep me from wanting to buy an Uzi. I kept my mouth shut. People stayed away. It was beautiful. And when I get home, step 5 is on. Oh…its ON.
In other news…When I was driving back from lunch yesterday from the laundry mat (aka mom’s house), there were shoes…all.over.the.road. Not like, a pair of shoes…or like, a few pairs…but like…a truckload of shoes…and it really looked like a Salvation Army truck flipped over right there…And if you know me, you KNOW that I was tempted to pull over and sift through them in hopes of finding something cute. Because…well, shit, they are FREE SHOES.
I took my dad and Fish Head to Paradise Alley last night. I had been ranting and raving about the beer selection since he got here (or since we discovered the place) and every time I mentioned it, I had to give him a napkin. Evidently, when you live in Guam, you don’t get good beer. (Note to self: do not move to Guam.) Anyway, he loved it, and FH even drank a couple (Now that I do, I don’t understand people who don’t drink beer). BUT, my dad spent a lot of time talking with the owner and he found out that the city is trying to shut all of the small businesses down. Every single one on a stretch of 30 blocks along the beach and 3 blocks out. That’s almost the whole beach. Not to mention that they only want to do it to build more fucking condos. The beach does not…NOT…need more fucking condos. But…Evidently, this is the type of thing that the city can do. I don’t know HOW they can get away with it. But…I really just wish there was something I could do about it. That poor lady has taken the City of Jacksonville Beach to court 3 times already and lost. And the place fucking rocks!
Is there a way to help get this butchery of our beaches to stop? We don’t need anymore rich fucks who don’t have anything better to do with their money than ruin the beaches. Half of them work so damn much to keep their stupid fucking “stuff” that they never even spend time enjoying it. They just fuck it up for everyone else. Bastards. Pasty white, rich bastards fucking up my beach. This is not Miami. Dammit.
F-word Count: 7
Okay…sorry…I get a little pissed about such insanity. Fuck.
Today, I have been on my best behavior. I came to work. I did my job (and read lots of blogs). I did not speak. I hung a neon, flashing sign that says “Beware of Criz” right over “the cube of death” and drank just enough coffee to keep me from wanting to buy an Uzi. I kept my mouth shut. People stayed away. It was beautiful. And when I get home, step 5 is on. Oh…its ON.
In other news…When I was driving back from lunch yesterday from the laundry mat (aka mom’s house), there were shoes…all.over.the.road. Not like, a pair of shoes…or like, a few pairs…but like…a truckload of shoes…and it really looked like a Salvation Army truck flipped over right there…And if you know me, you KNOW that I was tempted to pull over and sift through them in hopes of finding something cute. Because…well, shit, they are FREE SHOES.
I took my dad and Fish Head to Paradise Alley last night. I had been ranting and raving about the beer selection since he got here (or since we discovered the place) and every time I mentioned it, I had to give him a napkin. Evidently, when you live in Guam, you don’t get good beer. (Note to self: do not move to Guam.) Anyway, he loved it, and FH even drank a couple (Now that I do, I don’t understand people who don’t drink beer). BUT, my dad spent a lot of time talking with the owner and he found out that the city is trying to shut all of the small businesses down. Every single one on a stretch of 30 blocks along the beach and 3 blocks out. That’s almost the whole beach. Not to mention that they only want to do it to build more fucking condos. The beach does not…NOT…need more fucking condos. But…Evidently, this is the type of thing that the city can do. I don’t know HOW they can get away with it. But…I really just wish there was something I could do about it. That poor lady has taken the City of Jacksonville Beach to court 3 times already and lost. And the place fucking rocks!
Is there a way to help get this butchery of our beaches to stop? We don’t need anymore rich fucks who don’t have anything better to do with their money than ruin the beaches. Half of them work so damn much to keep their stupid fucking “stuff” that they never even spend time enjoying it. They just fuck it up for everyone else. Bastards. Pasty white, rich bastards fucking up my beach. This is not Miami. Dammit.
F-word Count: 7
Okay…sorry…I get a little pissed about such insanity. Fuck.
3.27.2006
National David Hasselhoff Month
Okay, so…on St. Patty’s Day, if you recall, I found a picture on my computer at work entitled “Dork” which ended up to be the picture of a shirtless David Hasselhoff. Why was it saved on my computer? I still don’t know. Who is responsible? My only guess is Ricky.
So, that very same day, I am blogsurfing and what do I find? That’s right folks. I found this. Which would have been bad enough. Except that the next day, courtesy of the lovely Jess, I received a Hoff calendar. There were shirtless Hoffs, 70's pornstar Hoffs, Holiday Hoffs, each one sending a wave of sadness and nausea throughout my body. Of course, I sent it to Ricky, hoping it would quench his insatiable desire for all things Hoff, along with a response to Jess reading, “I hope that you aren’t misreading my blog entry to mean that I don’t have enough pictures of David Hasselhoff. But thank you for the thought. You freak.”
And now? Now, I would just like to say to Jess. You are sick. Stop sending me this crap. I can’t take it. This is as bad as Phil Collinsing a sista. Don’t make me come over there.
I will leave you all for now, with a taste of the madness.
3.17.2006
Beer or Bed?
Oh, St. Patrick's Day...
And I still haven't made any plans. Invitations to places I have no desire to go have been extended. People have tried to lure me in with promises of green beer and debauchery. All have failed. Well...not really failed, I still might partake in some debauchery, I just haven't decided yet where, or with whom. Maybe I will make my own green beer and curl up in my bed with something to read.
Okay...stop...read that again. Who said that? Surely that wasn't Crizzle who just said she would spend St. Patty's Day in bed with a book. That bitch is getting old.
The thing is, I don't want to go to the Irish Pubs, because they will be stupid crowded and crammed full of frat boys and underage, fake-breasted hoochies. Oh, yeah, I think I could do without that. That, and I really don't want to leave smelling like that empty beer bottle that everyone started throwing their cigarette butts into. And I say that, but if I had the opportunity and the money, I would totally ride out to Savannah for the same type of thing right after work. I guess the frat boy/hoochie:regular people ratio is better there. (You know, and you can walk around with green beer anywhere you go.)
I was looking on line for a photo of some clover, so that I could post it here…and once I saved it (which I never do from my work computer), I came across some other photos that I have saved. One struck me as odd.
Can someone please explain to me why in the holy hell I would save this picture to my hard drive? Anyone?
At any rate, I would be willing to bet money that it originated from Ricky (who not so secretly has a raging crush on Mr. Knight Rider himself ever since that night he met him at Lynch's. It's okay Ricky, you can tell everyone about my crush on Tom Selleck.)
2.14.2006
Debbie Downer?
Evidently, I have become Debbie Downer (wa-wa-waaaaaaa). I have gotten myself some wine and skipped the moping for today in hopes that I could possibly get a handle on this…not being a whiney little bitch thing. And those of you who know me, know how happy wine makes me, so…I should be…quite okay.
On Ricky Retardo: Ricky said today that I am “bewitching”. That’s pretty rockin’. Even though I really think that he is only referring to “the shirt” (you remember…the one he swears I keep in a cryogenic case which, when opened, emits a smoke-like substance and releases “the shirt”, but only to me. Sure, you do, the shirt that gives me superpowers). He says that my effect on the powerless should be called “Crizzling” like…”You’ve been Crizzled” and the like. He really has issues. Really.
On V-Day: So really, guys. I am super aware that if I were planning on being mopey that today would be the day to do it, but I had a really good day. Obviously, work was lame, but when I got off, those of you who called…seriously, made my freaking day. And maybe it was the sentimental bullshit, or maybe it was the fact that I just needed some love, or maybe it was just the fact that you all rock my face off on the daily. And I love you. You know who you are. (Tighten up.)
On Myspace: Holy high school, Batman! Everyone in the free world is finding me these days. I can’t say that I mind, but…whoa. (If you didn’t use the Joey voice…go back…do it again.) Also…Jack Johnson, I wouldn’t have added you as my friend if I knew you were going to be a blog-o-maniac. Fucking stop. I don’t need a new email every 35 seconds talking about your new album. I think you have already lost me. Considering that I liked you back in the days of the massive patio and whore roommate (taco footbottle?) and that those days are gone, I don’t think I need you anymore. Shut it.
That is all. I said good day.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: “Story of my Life”- Social Distortion (Why?)
On Ricky Retardo: Ricky said today that I am “bewitching”. That’s pretty rockin’. Even though I really think that he is only referring to “the shirt” (you remember…the one he swears I keep in a cryogenic case which, when opened, emits a smoke-like substance and releases “the shirt”, but only to me. Sure, you do, the shirt that gives me superpowers). He says that my effect on the powerless should be called “Crizzling” like…”You’ve been Crizzled” and the like. He really has issues. Really.
On V-Day: So really, guys. I am super aware that if I were planning on being mopey that today would be the day to do it, but I had a really good day. Obviously, work was lame, but when I got off, those of you who called…seriously, made my freaking day. And maybe it was the sentimental bullshit, or maybe it was the fact that I just needed some love, or maybe it was just the fact that you all rock my face off on the daily. And I love you. You know who you are. (Tighten up.)
On Myspace: Holy high school, Batman! Everyone in the free world is finding me these days. I can’t say that I mind, but…whoa. (If you didn’t use the Joey voice…go back…do it again.) Also…Jack Johnson, I wouldn’t have added you as my friend if I knew you were going to be a blog-o-maniac. Fucking stop. I don’t need a new email every 35 seconds talking about your new album. I think you have already lost me. Considering that I liked you back in the days of the massive patio and whore roommate (taco footbottle?) and that those days are gone, I don’t think I need you anymore. Shut it.
That is all. I said good day.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: “Story of my Life”- Social Distortion (Why?)
2.10.2006
Wormholes and such
A few things…
It seems that my mom is neither freaking out NOR calling me names like idiot or moron. Yes, she finally got the hint that I am not kidding. Awesome.
Ricky has lost his mind and wanted me to write about a wormhole which has allowed my own time travel. I’m not gonna do it. Because obviously, had I discovered said wormhole, I would not be here and it would not be only February. I just happened to get a little confused about the time (which, he says, is because confusion is a side effect of time travel.) He’s been watching too many X-Files reruns.
Siesh is my new Seattle friend and she rocks!
Epperneperhart just left me a voicemail that said, “Crittle, I just read your blog and if I had a heart, I would cry.” That’s lovely, Jay. You are truly a gem.
Today is seriously the most boring day ever. I think that if I had to come in here tomorrow, I would just go ahead and drink gasoline now. I can’t take it anymore. Stupid week after vacation. Luckily, I will be spending tonight at the Palace with the crew, drinking massive amounts of very cheap beer. Yeah…go ahead and hate me.
Why do supervisors wait until fucking four o’clock on a Friday to have a meeting where they switch around everyone’s job functions? Why? I mean, seriously. They couldn’t wait until Monday to screw us all over? No…They wanted to make sure that we have all weekend to think about it and stress out.
Only 39 more years until I can retire!
It seems that my mom is neither freaking out NOR calling me names like idiot or moron. Yes, she finally got the hint that I am not kidding. Awesome.
Ricky has lost his mind and wanted me to write about a wormhole which has allowed my own time travel. I’m not gonna do it. Because obviously, had I discovered said wormhole, I would not be here and it would not be only February. I just happened to get a little confused about the time (which, he says, is because confusion is a side effect of time travel.) He’s been watching too many X-Files reruns.
Siesh is my new Seattle friend and she rocks!
Epperneperhart just left me a voicemail that said, “Crittle, I just read your blog and if I had a heart, I would cry.” That’s lovely, Jay. You are truly a gem.
Today is seriously the most boring day ever. I think that if I had to come in here tomorrow, I would just go ahead and drink gasoline now. I can’t take it anymore. Stupid week after vacation. Luckily, I will be spending tonight at the Palace with the crew, drinking massive amounts of very cheap beer. Yeah…go ahead and hate me.
Why do supervisors wait until fucking four o’clock on a Friday to have a meeting where they switch around everyone’s job functions? Why? I mean, seriously. They couldn’t wait until Monday to screw us all over? No…They wanted to make sure that we have all weekend to think about it and stress out.
Only 39 more years until I can retire!
2.09.2006
The Immaculate Pancake
Me: So, I am looking on the internet and I just found an article about a "Jesus Pancake".
Ricky: What?
Me: This guy made a pancake with a picture of Jesus on it.
Ricky: Were they good?
Me: I don't think he ate the pancakes! I think he just took a picture of it!
Ricky: Maybe they would help you go to sleep.
Me: No, Jesus Pancakes don't make me sleepy.
Ricky: Maybe if you eat a lot of 'em.
Ricky: What?
Me: This guy made a pancake with a picture of Jesus on it.
Ricky: Were they good?
Me: I don't think he ate the pancakes! I think he just took a picture of it!
Ricky: Maybe they would help you go to sleep.
Me: No, Jesus Pancakes don't make me sleepy.
Ricky: Maybe if you eat a lot of 'em.
1.05.2006
Nobody puts Baby in the corner...
The vicious rumor has been confirmed. Patrick Swayze is experimenting with rap music. This frightens me. I am still haunted by “She’s Like the Wind”…(as a matter of fact, the mere mention of his name and the shit is stuck in my head for a decade. And not only that…but I can see, in my head, the scene from “Dirty Dancing” in which it is played.) Damn.
Today and yesterday at work have been insane. The phones are ringing constantly and the foot-high stack of paper in my inbox seems to stay the same size no matter how quickly I work. I am taking a break. Otherwise, someone could get hurt.
I have my fifth visit with my physical terrorist today. The physical terrorist who thinks I am a contortionist. The physical therapist whose presence in my life has made very little difference, if any at all on the amount of pain I am in. And the only good thing about it is that it is at the end of the day and when I am done, I can go home, wrap myself in my blankets and sleep.
At least it is Thursday. And I have big plans for the weekend. And by big, I mean miniscule.
1. Clean my apartment.
2. Watch hour after hour of “21 Jump Street”.
3. Go to American Eagle to exchange pants (or just SEW the buttons on…ick).
4. Go to Old Navy to exchange pants (and find something a little more work friendly…thanks, Mom, but I am not so much sixteen anymore).
5. Go to Best Buy and spend more gift certificates (Thanks, Ricky and Uncle Wog!)
6. Go to Sephora and spend my gift certificate…and I am sure I will go over because that store is heaven on earth. (Thank you, Brandy, you are the best…call a sista, I can never get you!!!)
7. Go to the library.
8. Try and avoid “Pepe LePew” (more on him later…maybe…)
9. Sleep for insane amounts of time.
10. Drink massive amounts of coffee.
That’s my plan. Doesn’t it sound blissful? Man…I can’t wait.
Can someone tell me why my Launch keeps playing some sort of acoustic latino music? (And not the good kind, mind you…the very soft, very boring kind.) It is a mystery to me. But, I can’t complain. Ever since I got these speakers, I have been released from the clutches (why can I not type the word ‘clutches’?) of The Eagles and am on to bigger and better things. Oh, Elvis Costello…
I will be fine as long as they don’t start playing any Rappin’ Swayze.
Today and yesterday at work have been insane. The phones are ringing constantly and the foot-high stack of paper in my inbox seems to stay the same size no matter how quickly I work. I am taking a break. Otherwise, someone could get hurt.
I have my fifth visit with my physical terrorist today. The physical terrorist who thinks I am a contortionist. The physical therapist whose presence in my life has made very little difference, if any at all on the amount of pain I am in. And the only good thing about it is that it is at the end of the day and when I am done, I can go home, wrap myself in my blankets and sleep.
At least it is Thursday. And I have big plans for the weekend. And by big, I mean miniscule.
1. Clean my apartment.
2. Watch hour after hour of “21 Jump Street”.
3. Go to American Eagle to exchange pants (or just SEW the buttons on…ick).
4. Go to Old Navy to exchange pants (and find something a little more work friendly…thanks, Mom, but I am not so much sixteen anymore).
5. Go to Best Buy and spend more gift certificates (Thanks, Ricky and Uncle Wog!)
6. Go to Sephora and spend my gift certificate…and I am sure I will go over because that store is heaven on earth. (Thank you, Brandy, you are the best…call a sista, I can never get you!!!)
7. Go to the library.
8. Try and avoid “Pepe LePew” (more on him later…maybe…)
9. Sleep for insane amounts of time.
10. Drink massive amounts of coffee.
That’s my plan. Doesn’t it sound blissful? Man…I can’t wait.
Can someone tell me why my Launch keeps playing some sort of acoustic latino music? (And not the good kind, mind you…the very soft, very boring kind.) It is a mystery to me. But, I can’t complain. Ever since I got these speakers, I have been released from the clutches (why can I not type the word ‘clutches’?) of The Eagles and am on to bigger and better things. Oh, Elvis Costello…
I will be fine as long as they don’t start playing any Rappin’ Swayze.
12.29.2005
Bitchiness
I just saw an ad for some site that had a picture of Paris Hilton and was titled “Confessions of a Modern Day Cinderella”. I am sorry. But Paris Hilton is no Cinderella. Cinderella had a wicked step-mother and two evil step-sisters. Cinderella was forced to do all of the chores (chores = actual work). Cinderella wore rags. And, in fact, the only reason Cinderella got to be a princess was because she got a fairy godmother who magically turned her into one.
Paris has parents worth millions of dollars and have absolutely given her too much of it. Paris has never done a chore. Paris wears things that resemble rags (a lot of the time) but they are made by Gucci or Louis and cost more money that Cinderella saw in her whole lifetime. In my opinion, the word ‘princess’ denotes prestige and class…the name Paris does not.
The moral of the story, kids? Is that Paris Hilton…lots of money…still a skank. Cinderella…no money…still a princess. Will someone explain this to Her Skankiness, please? Thank you.
In other news, I see that Suzie Sunshine, (a girl in my office) got some FMBs (Fuck Me Boots) for Christmas. She looks like one of the girls in that Robert Palmer video. It makes me giggle.
I know, I know, I sound a little bitter today. But it is for good reason. That alien is back. You know the one that resides right between your hip bones, that tries to escape from your body once a month. (You know the one…from the movie?) Yeah. He has returned and has currently got his slimy little fingers around my ovaries and is squeezing the very life out of them. Sounds lovely, doesn’t it? (This is where my rant on “If men had periods…” would normally begin, but today, for that rant, I will refer you to the Notorious CHO. Margaret, that is. Take it away…)
Ricky should be in town now. He called about three hours ago, stuck in traffic in Daytona. So…shouldn’t be long now. Although, I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why he would come on a day that I will be stuck at work until 5 and even then, I get home, and have to get up tomorrow and come back here again. Ricky…you’re weird…and you are causing me to want to go home (more than I normally do…) Darn you to H-E Double Hockey sticks.
Paris has parents worth millions of dollars and have absolutely given her too much of it. Paris has never done a chore. Paris wears things that resemble rags (a lot of the time) but they are made by Gucci or Louis and cost more money that Cinderella saw in her whole lifetime. In my opinion, the word ‘princess’ denotes prestige and class…the name Paris does not.
The moral of the story, kids? Is that Paris Hilton…lots of money…still a skank. Cinderella…no money…still a princess. Will someone explain this to Her Skankiness, please? Thank you.
In other news, I see that Suzie Sunshine, (a girl in my office) got some FMBs (Fuck Me Boots) for Christmas. She looks like one of the girls in that Robert Palmer video. It makes me giggle.
I know, I know, I sound a little bitter today. But it is for good reason. That alien is back. You know the one that resides right between your hip bones, that tries to escape from your body once a month. (You know the one…from the movie?) Yeah. He has returned and has currently got his slimy little fingers around my ovaries and is squeezing the very life out of them. Sounds lovely, doesn’t it? (This is where my rant on “If men had periods…” would normally begin, but today, for that rant, I will refer you to the Notorious CHO. Margaret, that is. Take it away…)
Ricky should be in town now. He called about three hours ago, stuck in traffic in Daytona. So…shouldn’t be long now. Although, I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why he would come on a day that I will be stuck at work until 5 and even then, I get home, and have to get up tomorrow and come back here again. Ricky…you’re weird…and you are causing me to want to go home (more than I normally do…) Darn you to H-E Double Hockey sticks.
12.28.2005
"So Faaaaaar Away....."
Half of the workweek is over and half of my office mates have moved to a different location. Half of the noise is gone and that leaves us with…damn near nothing. This morning the phones are silent and the only noise thus far has been the clicking of keys.
As peaceful as that sounds, it kind of makes me want to scream.
I did not break into my apartment last night, nor did I end up sleeping in a shelter. I made it in after only thirty minutes of almost breaking my key in half. (That would have been fun!) By the time I was in and finished with dinner, Eppernepperhart was ready to take me to St. Augustine to meet up with FH, wade through a couple of crowded bars, and take pictures of the lights. (It is really beautiful there during the holidays).
It was a good night. Very tame. Fairly short. But with good company. I do have two things to say to you, Eppernepperhart:
1. Seriously, you are NO Carole King.
2. Don’t ever listen to The Molester again. Not cool. And I hope you got him back in the manner in which I asked you to.
I got a call this morning from the attorney’s office where I had an appointment this afternoon and they are referring me to another attorney. Actually, I am kind of happy about this, because it means that when I leave here today, I can go straight home and relax as opposed to driving to the other side of town in rush hour traffic.
I suppose that “relax” is not the right term. I will go home and prepare, actually. Prepare for FH to come over and raid my music collection. Prepare for Stef to see my place for the first time. Prepare for Ricky’s arrival tomorrow. All of this extra activity is throwing me off a bit. I am out of my routine and sometimes, that bothers me more than the fact that I actually have a routine to be out of.
At any rate…thanks to Brandy for the package that UPS won’t leave at my house and Happy Birthday to John Legend…(some day we will be celebrating our birthdays together…)
And I promise to post some pictures soon. As soon as I take some that are acceptable for posting, that is.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: "A Pirate Looks at 40" - Jimmy Buffett
As peaceful as that sounds, it kind of makes me want to scream.
I did not break into my apartment last night, nor did I end up sleeping in a shelter. I made it in after only thirty minutes of almost breaking my key in half. (That would have been fun!) By the time I was in and finished with dinner, Eppernepperhart was ready to take me to St. Augustine to meet up with FH, wade through a couple of crowded bars, and take pictures of the lights. (It is really beautiful there during the holidays).
It was a good night. Very tame. Fairly short. But with good company. I do have two things to say to you, Eppernepperhart:
1. Seriously, you are NO Carole King.
2. Don’t ever listen to The Molester again. Not cool. And I hope you got him back in the manner in which I asked you to.
I got a call this morning from the attorney’s office where I had an appointment this afternoon and they are referring me to another attorney. Actually, I am kind of happy about this, because it means that when I leave here today, I can go straight home and relax as opposed to driving to the other side of town in rush hour traffic.
I suppose that “relax” is not the right term. I will go home and prepare, actually. Prepare for FH to come over and raid my music collection. Prepare for Stef to see my place for the first time. Prepare for Ricky’s arrival tomorrow. All of this extra activity is throwing me off a bit. I am out of my routine and sometimes, that bothers me more than the fact that I actually have a routine to be out of.
At any rate…thanks to Brandy for the package that UPS won’t leave at my house and Happy Birthday to John Legend…(some day we will be celebrating our birthdays together…)
And I promise to post some pictures soon. As soon as I take some that are acceptable for posting, that is.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: "A Pirate Looks at 40" - Jimmy Buffett
12.22.2005
Christmas and Crossed Fingers
I am finally, despite the horrible Backstreet Boys Christmas disaster playing in the background currently, getting into the Christmas spirit. I am giving all of the credit to the late Bing Crosby for singing my holiday for 26 years. Thanks, papa Bing…
I do, however, have to give some of the credit to Sarah, who wrote a Christmas post that I sincerely loved. It’s really heart warming to see that people still love Christmas…for the right reasons.
I have been in a great mood overall for the past few days and for the first time since my family spent Christmas Day in the very hospital where I work, I actually am almost looking forward to hot cocoa and present opening at Mom’s house. Granted, it isn’t like it was when I was a kid, but I think for the first time since my grandma’s passing, I will actually be able to let it be a happy day.
Anyway, despite being without power this morning and being over an hour late for work because of it, I am in great spirits. This could have to do with several things.
1. Ricky should be in Miami by now. That means in just over a week, he will be here!
2. Tomorrow my Pookie and I will be celebrating our 26th birthdays…(And The Idiot’s 27th! HA!)
3. FH, Spliff and Eppernepperhart will be here soon!
4. I got a totally rad camera for Christmas and I have seriously had to stop myself from staring lovingly at it since I got it.
5. My office is abuzz with Christmas carols and holiday cheer. (Which is odd because, in my last department, people just sat around and stuffed their faces with chocolate and bitched about being broke.)
The bad news is though, that I am going to have to get a lawyer. I am not looking forward to this. And really, I just want it all to be over. But the owner of the car that hit me (who was NOT the driver of the car) had very limited insurance…meaning, they are now going to try and screw me and make me settle. That won’t happen. I called my insurance company (was advised that settling is the worst possible thing to do right now) and then called a law office and scheduled a consultation. So now, between holidays, company, physical therapy and work I have to manage to find time to add in lawyers. Woo-fucking-hoo!
But…really…I can handle it. I just hope that, in the end, it will be worth all of this…
I am keeping my fingers crossed. You should too.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: “Arms of a Woman” – Amos Lee
I do, however, have to give some of the credit to Sarah, who wrote a Christmas post that I sincerely loved. It’s really heart warming to see that people still love Christmas…for the right reasons.
I have been in a great mood overall for the past few days and for the first time since my family spent Christmas Day in the very hospital where I work, I actually am almost looking forward to hot cocoa and present opening at Mom’s house. Granted, it isn’t like it was when I was a kid, but I think for the first time since my grandma’s passing, I will actually be able to let it be a happy day.
Anyway, despite being without power this morning and being over an hour late for work because of it, I am in great spirits. This could have to do with several things.
1. Ricky should be in Miami by now. That means in just over a week, he will be here!
2. Tomorrow my Pookie and I will be celebrating our 26th birthdays…(And The Idiot’s 27th! HA!)
3. FH, Spliff and Eppernepperhart will be here soon!
4. I got a totally rad camera for Christmas and I have seriously had to stop myself from staring lovingly at it since I got it.
5. My office is abuzz with Christmas carols and holiday cheer. (Which is odd because, in my last department, people just sat around and stuffed their faces with chocolate and bitched about being broke.)
The bad news is though, that I am going to have to get a lawyer. I am not looking forward to this. And really, I just want it all to be over. But the owner of the car that hit me (who was NOT the driver of the car) had very limited insurance…meaning, they are now going to try and screw me and make me settle. That won’t happen. I called my insurance company (was advised that settling is the worst possible thing to do right now) and then called a law office and scheduled a consultation. So now, between holidays, company, physical therapy and work I have to manage to find time to add in lawyers. Woo-fucking-hoo!
But…really…I can handle it. I just hope that, in the end, it will be worth all of this…
I am keeping my fingers crossed. You should too.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: “Arms of a Woman” – Amos Lee
11.30.2005
Feelin' Groovy...
There hasn’t been too much going on in the last few days worth blogging about. But I will try and give you the rundown.
1. I ganked a TV over the weekend. (Not so much ganked as “found” and “took”.)
2. The “finding” and “taking” said TV was fueled by boatloads of Pinot Grigio and someone whose name may or may not be Bobby (Update: I have named him Pepe LePew).
3. I “helped” decorate a Christmas tree and it made me think of how sad it makes my mom that we aren’t all living there to do that anymore.
4. I called in sick from work yesterday because I woke up in the middle of the night with severe pain in my back and accidentally took one too many muscle relaxers and couldn’t wake up. Oops.
5. I went to the doctor and found out I have to have physical therapy and got pain meds (queue angels singing).
6. I remembered my obsession for Magnum P.I. and am seriously considering buying the box set for myself for my birthday. (That or 21 Jumpstreet…or the second season of Nip/Tuck…thanks Ricky, for getting me so incredibly hooked.)
7. I have heard that, “my hump, my hump, my hump” song about 653 times today and am about to smash my radio…Luckily, I have taken said pain medication (queue angels singing) and don’t really have enough energy to lift my arms to do so.
8. I learned that when people at work ask you to “help” them do something, they really are saying, “No, really. You do it. I don’t want to.”
9. I put together an 800 piece metal shelf for my bathroom last night and it only took me 6.5 hours.
10. I have not had ANY leftover turkey. At all.
Really, that’s about all there has been. And in the hazy state that I am in today, I am surprised that I can remember any of these things to tell you. Did I mention that I love pain meds? (Queue angels singing.)
1. I ganked a TV over the weekend. (Not so much ganked as “found” and “took”.)
2. The “finding” and “taking” said TV was fueled by boatloads of Pinot Grigio and someone whose name may or may not be Bobby (Update: I have named him Pepe LePew).
3. I “helped” decorate a Christmas tree and it made me think of how sad it makes my mom that we aren’t all living there to do that anymore.
4. I called in sick from work yesterday because I woke up in the middle of the night with severe pain in my back and accidentally took one too many muscle relaxers and couldn’t wake up. Oops.
5. I went to the doctor and found out I have to have physical therapy and got pain meds (queue angels singing).
6. I remembered my obsession for Magnum P.I. and am seriously considering buying the box set for myself for my birthday. (That or 21 Jumpstreet…or the second season of Nip/Tuck…thanks Ricky, for getting me so incredibly hooked.)
7. I have heard that, “my hump, my hump, my hump” song about 653 times today and am about to smash my radio…Luckily, I have taken said pain medication (queue angels singing) and don’t really have enough energy to lift my arms to do so.
8. I learned that when people at work ask you to “help” them do something, they really are saying, “No, really. You do it. I don’t want to.”
9. I put together an 800 piece metal shelf for my bathroom last night and it only took me 6.5 hours.
10. I have not had ANY leftover turkey. At all.
Really, that’s about all there has been. And in the hazy state that I am in today, I am surprised that I can remember any of these things to tell you. Did I mention that I love pain meds? (Queue angels singing.)
11.17.2005
10.24.2005
Most Romantic Conversation...EVER
Me: "Hey, Ricky, you wanna marry me?"
Ricky: "Yeah, you think they have a drive through?"
Ricky: "Yeah, you think they have a drive through?"
10.19.2005
A little more...
Okay, so I have a few minutes before I venture out to find the oh-so-perfect apartment of my dreams (which will be, as it is in my dreams, very large, very cheap, and overflowing with character). With this 3.5 minutes of spare time, I will elaborate a little more on the Vegas trip.
Friday, I spent almost the entirety of the day in the Las Vegas Airport with my mom and step-dad drinking 32 ounce mugs of Bud Light goodness while waiting for the grandparents and the Fish. By the end of it, I was quite ready to either sleep or bang my head against a wall. But I survived and as soon as FH got there, things were better tenfold.
Saturday, Ricky got in at 9am. All of us walked to the nearest hotel in search of breakfast but found nothing that seven people could agree on (nothing that my mom and grandma could agree on rather), so Ricky, FH, and I escaped, ate generic every-city-in-the-United-States food and found a casino with dollar margaritas. We walked all over, looked at everything, and finally settled on the bring-your-own-liquor-all-over-town idea (you can totally walk around with your liquor there!). So we stopped at a liquor store for a bottle of Parrot Bay and a bottle of Captain and the madness commenced. We saw the Paris, the Aladdin, New York, New York, Caesar’s Palace and many others, all with their lights blinking at us. It really is beautiful at night, and feels so different from anywhere I have ever been. We must’ve walked down that strip three times and still missed some things (partially because we were carrying around two bottles of rum and partially because there is soooo much to see).
Sunday, we saw the inside of Paris, the Aladdin, the Bellagio and everything in between. By the afternoon, though, we were all walking like 85-year-olds (I know, that’s what I get for walking all day Saturday in heels). We went downtown and saw the lightshow, which is incredible. Saw the old casinos. I was accosted by a guy who insisted on showing me the scar on his stomach that he got from trying to stop a guy from hitting his woman and then the woman stabbed him. (You didn’t think I got out of that place without having been accosted by some freak did you?)
Monday, after FH was gone, we spent the only rainy day since we got there in different casinos. As much as I never liked gambling, you can’t help but be mesmerized by all the flashing and blinking lights and noisy machines.
I didn’t go to any shows or do anything too typical of Las Vegas. But it turned out just as I would have liked. It was nice to be away. I have to say though, the best part was pulling onto JTB, where I knew I was almost home.
Friday, I spent almost the entirety of the day in the Las Vegas Airport with my mom and step-dad drinking 32 ounce mugs of Bud Light goodness while waiting for the grandparents and the Fish. By the end of it, I was quite ready to either sleep or bang my head against a wall. But I survived and as soon as FH got there, things were better tenfold.
Saturday, Ricky got in at 9am. All of us walked to the nearest hotel in search of breakfast but found nothing that seven people could agree on (nothing that my mom and grandma could agree on rather), so Ricky, FH, and I escaped, ate generic every-city-in-the-United-States food and found a casino with dollar margaritas. We walked all over, looked at everything, and finally settled on the bring-your-own-liquor-all-over-town idea (you can totally walk around with your liquor there!). So we stopped at a liquor store for a bottle of Parrot Bay and a bottle of Captain and the madness commenced. We saw the Paris, the Aladdin, New York, New York, Caesar’s Palace and many others, all with their lights blinking at us. It really is beautiful at night, and feels so different from anywhere I have ever been. We must’ve walked down that strip three times and still missed some things (partially because we were carrying around two bottles of rum and partially because there is soooo much to see).
Sunday, we saw the inside of Paris, the Aladdin, the Bellagio and everything in between. By the afternoon, though, we were all walking like 85-year-olds (I know, that’s what I get for walking all day Saturday in heels). We went downtown and saw the lightshow, which is incredible. Saw the old casinos. I was accosted by a guy who insisted on showing me the scar on his stomach that he got from trying to stop a guy from hitting his woman and then the woman stabbed him. (You didn’t think I got out of that place without having been accosted by some freak did you?)
Monday, after FH was gone, we spent the only rainy day since we got there in different casinos. As much as I never liked gambling, you can’t help but be mesmerized by all the flashing and blinking lights and noisy machines.
I didn’t go to any shows or do anything too typical of Las Vegas. But it turned out just as I would have liked. It was nice to be away. I have to say though, the best part was pulling onto JTB, where I knew I was almost home.
10.18.2005
A little on Vegas...Very little...
When you look at Nevada from a plane, it looks like someone took a big orangish brown sheet of construction paper and crumpled it up and then flattened it out again.
I have to say, all in all, Vegas is insane. The second I stepped out of the car at my mom’s house this afternoon, I was so taken aback by the…quiet. I hadn’t known quiet in quite a few days and it was welcome and blissful. Don’t get me wrong, I had a great time, but good GOD is it good to be home. I needed the silence and the smell of the salty air more than I could have ever imagined I would.
My vacation, at times, wasn’t much of a vacation although, I did get to see Ricky and Fish Head and escape the family for a whole day, which was lovely. Of course, the drinking started at 10:30 am. And I was right, it really was a whole different kind of debauchery than I am used to, involving thermoses full of rum and coke, FH singing her own version of “Mandy” to the people on the monorail, and an ice cream fight at Margaritaville (which I am glad there is no photographic evidence of, although Ricky does not feel the same way).
The family grated on me just as I had expected but the good thing about Vegas is, there is always something else to do. Somewhere else to go. So I did just that. And most frequently could hide out behind a slot machine and drink free Captain until someone found me and I had to switch hideouts. I am glad I went. I am glad that I got to spend time with my family, even though they bicker like nobody’s business. Even though a lot of the time, I envisioned myself kicking all of them. (I didn’t do it, but it took all I had not to.)
Even after all of the running around and such, I feel relaxed and ready to take on the week. But not until after tomorrow. I still have another day off and I intend to put it to good use. There will be sleep (in my OWN BED!), reading, and apartment hunting (AGAIN!). And I am goddamned DETERMINED this time.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Decade: "Buona Sera" - Louis Prima
I have to say, all in all, Vegas is insane. The second I stepped out of the car at my mom’s house this afternoon, I was so taken aback by the…quiet. I hadn’t known quiet in quite a few days and it was welcome and blissful. Don’t get me wrong, I had a great time, but good GOD is it good to be home. I needed the silence and the smell of the salty air more than I could have ever imagined I would.
My vacation, at times, wasn’t much of a vacation although, I did get to see Ricky and Fish Head and escape the family for a whole day, which was lovely. Of course, the drinking started at 10:30 am. And I was right, it really was a whole different kind of debauchery than I am used to, involving thermoses full of rum and coke, FH singing her own version of “Mandy” to the people on the monorail, and an ice cream fight at Margaritaville (which I am glad there is no photographic evidence of, although Ricky does not feel the same way).
The family grated on me just as I had expected but the good thing about Vegas is, there is always something else to do. Somewhere else to go. So I did just that. And most frequently could hide out behind a slot machine and drink free Captain until someone found me and I had to switch hideouts. I am glad I went. I am glad that I got to spend time with my family, even though they bicker like nobody’s business. Even though a lot of the time, I envisioned myself kicking all of them. (I didn’t do it, but it took all I had not to.)
Even after all of the running around and such, I feel relaxed and ready to take on the week. But not until after tomorrow. I still have another day off and I intend to put it to good use. There will be sleep (in my OWN BED!), reading, and apartment hunting (AGAIN!). And I am goddamned DETERMINED this time.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Decade: "Buona Sera" - Louis Prima
9.28.2005
Celebrating Wednesday
I am still insanely tired but have managed, despite it, to stay at work. And have even being moderately coherent for the majority of the time.
I have been maintaining a level of consciousness that surprises even me, but now, as I try to wean myself off of the coffee, it is all starting to slip away.
Luckily for me, it is almost two. That means in less than four hours, I will (hopefully) be tucked into my bed and dreaming. I am too tired to consider any alternatives.
ZH is still working things out at work where he will be able to visit me when I am in Vegas (16 days!) and I am excited that I might actually get to see him. We have a lot to talk about and some things are hard to discuss over the phone. Either way though, Ricky and Fish Head will be there, along with the family, so it will be a good time, I’m sure.
I have to secure a place to live though, in the next two weeks, which is seriously stressing me out because of LBG’s inability to let the past lie and the lack of other options that I currently have. It is beginning to look more and more like I should just make my big move sooner than I had planned. I had planned to stay at least until June, since I had promised my supervisor and physicians that I work for that I would, but now I just think it would be easier just to get the hell out while I can. I can’t say that I wouldn’t do it. But I also can’t say that I am completely ready just yet. Really though, more and more, the only thing that I cannot take with me is the ocean. Friendships will follow. Family will continue to be family. And the ocean isn’t going anywhere. (even though I wish I could put it in my pocket and take it with me).
Ideally though, I would be in the SAME apartment until June and then wouldn’t have to worry about anything until then. But, being that My roommate…well…isn’t one, it puts a little damper on my plans. I guess that is why I am taking so long to figure it out. I have found a lot of places that I can afford…but I just don’t have the energy to do it now and then again if and when I do it in June. I get increasingly bitter about not having gotten a place by myself when Spliff left, but the helping hand in me took over…getting me, well…absolutely nowhere and a little bit more irritated with people than I had been to start. If that is possible.
Of course, moving out of Jacksonville right now, puts a little damper on my plans with Brandy to buy that house on the beach and write that children’s book, “Owen has Two Mommies”.
I have been maintaining a level of consciousness that surprises even me, but now, as I try to wean myself off of the coffee, it is all starting to slip away.
Luckily for me, it is almost two. That means in less than four hours, I will (hopefully) be tucked into my bed and dreaming. I am too tired to consider any alternatives.
ZH is still working things out at work where he will be able to visit me when I am in Vegas (16 days!) and I am excited that I might actually get to see him. We have a lot to talk about and some things are hard to discuss over the phone. Either way though, Ricky and Fish Head will be there, along with the family, so it will be a good time, I’m sure.
I have to secure a place to live though, in the next two weeks, which is seriously stressing me out because of LBG’s inability to let the past lie and the lack of other options that I currently have. It is beginning to look more and more like I should just make my big move sooner than I had planned. I had planned to stay at least until June, since I had promised my supervisor and physicians that I work for that I would, but now I just think it would be easier just to get the hell out while I can. I can’t say that I wouldn’t do it. But I also can’t say that I am completely ready just yet. Really though, more and more, the only thing that I cannot take with me is the ocean. Friendships will follow. Family will continue to be family. And the ocean isn’t going anywhere. (even though I wish I could put it in my pocket and take it with me).
Ideally though, I would be in the SAME apartment until June and then wouldn’t have to worry about anything until then. But, being that My roommate…well…isn’t one, it puts a little damper on my plans. I guess that is why I am taking so long to figure it out. I have found a lot of places that I can afford…but I just don’t have the energy to do it now and then again if and when I do it in June. I get increasingly bitter about not having gotten a place by myself when Spliff left, but the helping hand in me took over…getting me, well…absolutely nowhere and a little bit more irritated with people than I had been to start. If that is possible.
Of course, moving out of Jacksonville right now, puts a little damper on my plans with Brandy to buy that house on the beach and write that children’s book, “Owen has Two Mommies”.
9.23.2005
Welcome to the Cruel World
I remember when I was a kid and my dad was living in Savannah. I remember how, in the summer, my sister and I used to go and stay with him and on his days off we would sit in the parks and feed pigeons. I remember how helpless I felt when I would see homeless people. Those people who would walk by us, picking half-eaten hamburgers out of the trash cans. I would get so sad. I wanted to fix it for them. I still do.
The other day in Riverside, we were walking down the sidewalk right after nightfall and a man approached. He was deaf and had a note in his hand and tried to flag us down. Since I had fallen behind anyway and the rest of the group had sped up when they had seen him, I started to walk faster. It hurt me to not stop and read his note. It hurt me to stride past him. Even though I knew I couldn’t afford to give him anything. Even though he couldn’t speak to me. He couldn’t tell me if he was hungry, if he wanted a cup of coffee, if he just needed a cigarette. I felt guilty for not treating him with the respect that he deserved, just because he is human. He is a person just like me.
One Tuesday night, about a year or so ago, I should have been sleeping, but was out with Ricky and his crazy married friend (before I knew he was crazy) and we stopped at VI for a middle of the night breakfast. When we left, I boxed up every ounce of food at the table and left it on a bench where Paul slept. I wrote a note on the box wishing him a good morning and then drove away. I remember how CMG looked at me when I told him what I planned to do. It was combination of utter astonishment and complete confusion. But I went to bed that night feeling like a million dollars.
The other day in Riverside, we were walking down the sidewalk right after nightfall and a man approached. He was deaf and had a note in his hand and tried to flag us down. Since I had fallen behind anyway and the rest of the group had sped up when they had seen him, I started to walk faster. It hurt me to not stop and read his note. It hurt me to stride past him. Even though I knew I couldn’t afford to give him anything. Even though he couldn’t speak to me. He couldn’t tell me if he was hungry, if he wanted a cup of coffee, if he just needed a cigarette. I felt guilty for not treating him with the respect that he deserved, just because he is human. He is a person just like me.
One Tuesday night, about a year or so ago, I should have been sleeping, but was out with Ricky and his crazy married friend (before I knew he was crazy) and we stopped at VI for a middle of the night breakfast. When we left, I boxed up every ounce of food at the table and left it on a bench where Paul slept. I wrote a note on the box wishing him a good morning and then drove away. I remember how CMG looked at me when I told him what I planned to do. It was combination of utter astonishment and complete confusion. But I went to bed that night feeling like a million dollars.
11.27.2004
Another Rainy Day...
Yesterday was the big surprise party at Dave and Buster's. It wasn't bad actually, Merv and Kurty came with, which was strange, given the odd attitude that Merv has been sporting lately. Things went well, we all went dancing afterwards, which was really fun. Although, I really didn't feel like I looked appropriate for dancing. Evidently, I looked like a GAP commercial. Oh well...I don't know whether that is good or bad.
I am currently trying to get Ricky to go to Orlando right now. He won't go. That is dumb. I wanna go to Bob Marley's. Actually, this was all orchestrated by Tiff. She is bored and she is visiting the parents. So naturally, she wants me to come there and entertain her. I would actually love it if I could. Because it would get me out of here for a while.
Danielle is having one of the infamous parties tonight as well. I don't think I am up for that tonight. I thought earlier that I might be, but I think it is safe to say, that I am staying in tonight. Rainy days make me antisocial.
Every time I think that I don't like Eric Clapton, I hear "You Look Wonderful Tonight" and then I suddenly love him again. I need someone to write a song like that about ME.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: "You Look Wonderful Tonight" - Eric Clapton
I am currently trying to get Ricky to go to Orlando right now. He won't go. That is dumb. I wanna go to Bob Marley's. Actually, this was all orchestrated by Tiff. She is bored and she is visiting the parents. So naturally, she wants me to come there and entertain her. I would actually love it if I could. Because it would get me out of here for a while.
Danielle is having one of the infamous parties tonight as well. I don't think I am up for that tonight. I thought earlier that I might be, but I think it is safe to say, that I am staying in tonight. Rainy days make me antisocial.
Every time I think that I don't like Eric Clapton, I hear "You Look Wonderful Tonight" and then I suddenly love him again. I need someone to write a song like that about ME.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: "You Look Wonderful Tonight" - Eric Clapton
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