all i need is this paddle-ball game. and these matches. and this clock. and...

hi friends. hope everyone had a nice xmas and will soon have a great new years. my week's been pretty enjoyable because i got to make the braised lamb again, watched my niece turn 1, hung the rest of my window treatments with power tools, took apart my breakfast bar pendant lights, and realized that the xmas season is slowly ushering out and i don't have to take any xmas lights down!! sorry, sarah. yours are very beautiful but now you have go outside and take them down and i know that will make you annoyed and sad since you'll have to 1, take them down, and 2, i know you totally don't want to. anyways, i'm glad that i don't have to do that.

i saw martha's new daytime show for the first time this week and i really find it delightful. i was lucky enough to catch the halloween episode, which unfortunately featured rosie o'donnell. she's QUITE obnoxious and at one point, i wasn't sure who was hosting the show and then i was just pissed b/c i knew it SHOULDN'T have been ro-hulk, but it was. then i realized how much anger and outrage i still harbor for martha's time in prison. there are no words for the animosity i feel towards one of the most intelligent, powerful women in america going to prison on a faulty charge when enron guys are out and about running fancy free with little to no worries about their futures. island, people. i'm starting an island and this kind of shit won't fly there. you'll be shot in the ass or foot or something. martha and hillary will be running it with my assistance and bill will also be around because we like him so much. oh man. it sounds like heaven on earth.

i'll leave you with a picture of the view from my dining room on xmas and one of my niece on her first birthday. happy b-day bellachino and a safe and happy new year to all of you.

man have i been getting tagged a lot

really does a number on the old chole. what? anyway. here are my 5 strange habits.

• i always dispose of the sourdough nibblers that aren't in 'bloom'. the ones that stayed closed and didn't transform into a nibbler get tossed because they're not as much fun to eat. they taste just as delicious as the bloomers but i refuse to eat them.
• for as long as i can remember, i only get in and out of bed on the left side. i haven't exited to the right for probably 20 years. i don't know why, but i won't even consider the right side that's adjacent to the bathroom, even in emergencies.
• i only drink coffee through one of those stirrer-straw thingies, never just regular.
• i refuse to eat jello and i don't know why.
• i never touch my face and i won't let anyone else do it either. it's a weird face thing i have that's kinda like mary's brother warren's ear issues in 'something about mary'.

ok, two other thoughts for u bitches. who does john look like in this picture? i kinda think favreau and he thinks mcconaughey. it's from a few years ago when we still sat in the pod at work and liked to play dress-up with the random articles of clothing we found on our floor. and the other thing, i think i want to tag rachel mcadams. yeah. i do.

the price is wrong, bob

this is an actual email from a work douche. what an effing douche. how many commas should one use to separate one sentence? apparently 17 is the answer. also, i'm not working extra hours at xmas and new year's because your dumb team is incompetent. eff u.

All,
I agree with Sue, at this point, as we have been during the past month, we need to look at extra hours. I realize this is hard with the holidays, and we should look to make it as productive as possible. If there are groups that have dependencies, for file transfers or processing, please discuss when you can all be available at the same time, so are productive as possible during those extra hours.
Bob

keep your goddamn tongues off active, live, cultured bacteria on aluminum foil

so ok. here you go. jan made me think of this the other day. those guys over at yoplait collect their own yogurt lids for the benefit of breast cancer. it's admirable and i commend them - i really do. it reminds me hedge funds. however, jan for instance, she licks the lid and then sends it to yoplait. um...hello?? hi! how disgusting would my life be if i had to work at yoplait in the lid collection department. holy eff dudes. i would like, have to punch myself in the neck if my job entailed thousands upon millions of licked-up lids at.my.fingertips. it made me throw up in my mouth a little when i came to this conclusion, as i'm sure it's doing to you right this very second.

do it for me, your cheesecakepot. try to either rinse the lid if you're sending it to yoplait, OR, just wrap that shit up in a napkin or whatever and then place it aside and dispose of it inside the yogurt cup when you're finished. or just throw it away at your time of commencement. you owe me. you do.

i hate sandra bernhard, but yay for mango margaritas

first off, sarah, so glad we did your b-day friday night. that was a good time. you were so frigging drunk, i could hardly believe my eyes. i'm glad that firefall's 'you are the woman' is our song. thanx for the memories. i love ya hor. let's do happy hour on your actual b-day.

secondly, the cyndi lauper concert crew, it's not usually a good idea to see one of your favorite 80s icons twice in 3 years, but i think she was able to bridge the gap. her songs make you feel pretty wonderful so i'm glad we went and got a good dose of her crazy energy. she's literally a rock star. she laid on the stage and moved around with her legs during 'i drove all night' (like michael j. fox at the chicken under the sea dance in 'back to the future'). cyndi's a diva. steph's gonna try to become one. we'll all come pay $40 to see you dr. hor. cyndi rocks. sandra bernhard however... i wanna punch that stupid beotch in the eye. she literally brought the mood of like 5000 people way way down. um, bitter, stupid bitch isn't something to turn into a stand-up act. holy eff. we're not easily offended, but she managed to offend us. jill sobule opened and made us so high and happy, and then sandra bernhard like pounced on us and figuratively kicked us in the stomach. fuck you sandra. you're in a concert hall of 5000 major lefty democrats, don't fucking tell us to do our job in the next election and that you piss on cleveland. know your audience. seriously, we all applauded when she said she only had 5min left. horrible buzzkill. the crew decided that she is our least favorite word in the english vernacular (C-U-N-ext-T-uesday) so that's pretty bad. things came way back up when cyndi graced us and opened with 'all through the night' - my all-time, personal favorite. cyndi, you are magical.

back to sunshine, i think i have a new crush. yay. ;) i started to get into xmas for the first time in years and it might be his fault. damn you, cottonwood (or c-dub) -that's what i'm gonna call him for now. this lucky boy is going to get asked out by me in the next few weeks. seriously, how lucky can one guy be? anyway, today i decorated a tree, listened to charlie brown's xmas cd, shoveled my driveway, hung a xmas wreath on my door, ate the most fantastic dark chocolate covered espresso beans, and instituted margarita sunday nights. see below. come over and bring lime chips.

na na na na na na, you say it's your birthday

i turned 28 on the 13th and john turned 48 on the 10th and his wife has a birthday tomorrow and then there's wayne, and keith, and dave, and marc, and mike, and italian stallion, and brock, etc... there are so many birthdays this time of year that i was forced to host a small, impromptu dinner party in our honor. you'll find some pictures below from the night where i served braised lamb in my fancy new dining room on my fancy new dishes, glass and flatware. i know you'll find this hard to believe, but we drank much wine, martinis with vodka, beer, green beans, and all sorts of other liquids involving blue curacao at said party. here is the evening in pictures in order of progression from start to finish.

first we listened to some choice music:















next, the boys got undressed:















that's when i found my guests to be far more interesting:















i'm pretty sure this is where we started to lose control:















and this is when drew and i ended up wearing john's shirt:
















it's best not to ask questions.

here's a random shot of my ugly niece who was not at the party. man she's ugly:















happy birthday 2005, novemberites. hope to see ya next year.

i love you man

he was tied with my mother for my most favorite person in life. he was tall, intelligent, stylish, dashing, dry-witted, and loved his poodle and his red, red wine. he was a lot like cary grant except bald. my mother is a lot like her father except for the tallness and the baldness and maybe swap out dashing with diabolical. otherwise, exact replicas. he was the core of the family and a lot of screws started to fall out after his death. my aunt v got a divorce and then lost complete control of her 2 kids. my other aunt, s, moved to california, got a divorce, then got remarried and didn't tell anyone. family xmas, easter, birthdays, and cook-outs headed south. as they say, he probably did much rolling in his grave. i have really good memories of him in the summer. he loved taking my sister and i to local fairs and winning goldfish for us. he would ride his motobecane over on sunny days and then we would get our bikes out and ride back home with him to have ice-cream with my grandmother (since they only lived a few streets over). if my dad was tackling a project in the yard, he would ride over, sip iced-tea, and keep my dad company until it got dark. his corvette collection was the best. there were 4; one sold to aunt s, one sold to some greasy looking guy, and the other 2 - totally stolen from the garage on 2 separate occasions. he was pretty pissed about that. so was i. my favorite memory was when he would pick me up from half-day kindergarten in the gun-metal grey one and head straight to mcdonald's for happy meals. he would get one too so that there would be extra toys for us hanging around at his house.

i miss him. i was 3 days from turning 9 when he died on his birthday, november 10th. i didn't get enough time with him, but i don't have any regrets. he lived close and always wanted to see us. he was a wonderful man and i'm glad i got to have him in my life.

i'm not here to preserve anyone's feelings

the mood caught me. you're in for a treat. things i hate.

• the 2 words 'pet' and 'peeve' used together
• when i get mascara or pen on my hand
• personalized license plates
• aimless busy-bodies at work, who by the way, do have agendas
• having a boss
• zealots, religious or otherwise. if you're psycho about 1 particular thing, i hate you
• wolf spiders. i hate that they make me have to kill them. i do
• red roses
• all the little mindless lemming families in my neighborhood
• anything too sweet, like cake and pop
• christmas and everything it stands for/encompasses
• porders (this is vague danni-code which you may never figure out)
• people who pretend to be whatever the current company includes (a vegetarian perhaps)
• champagne
• sausage
• raisins
• the people whose attention span cuts out after 4 seconds. listen to me dammit. i'm only speaking to you because you need to know what i'm telling you. morons.
• german opera. it's just so all-around ugly.
• couples who think you're less of a person without a boyfriend
• U2, elvis costello, and the talking heads
• kiss-asses and yes men. thanx for ruining my life.
• how our society has spiraled into a nose dive of laziness and complacency, never to regain control
• when people lick the foil lid of a yogurt. you knew this was coming

corporately, we believe in orgasms

reese cups are so delicious that they completely and totally incapacitate me. i can do nothing while we're in conference together. nothing. i just hung up on some guy because of this. my apologies, jim.

if you were here, i could deceive you

i decided to have my house face west so that i could really see the moon from my back windows. guess what also happened this fall...mars is in the eastern sky. a little bonus for me. i'm sitting in the middle of my great room floor in the dark (since my one chair has been moved in great anticipation of the sofa that's arriving in 10 hours) looking up at the stars and it's pretty neat. this house makes me happy most of the time - when it's not making me feel hopelessly imprisoned at work. i'm calm and extremely uneasy all at the same time. the only other things i might need at this particular moment would be max and john mayer or jack johnson with an acoustic guitar. i wish you could see this but a plain old digital pic doesn't do it justice. isn't that just your luck.

i want candy

so my halloween was nice. friday night was the usual party at sarah's old house where i dressed as master hor. i've never seen some people that drunk before (and i've seen A LOT of drunk before). it's good that the little ones didn't make it out for that one this year. definitely some x-ratings on that one. call me later and we'll discuss. last night i had sarah, diane, and sharda in my driveway drinking beer. the guy next door was giving warm cider & bourbon to everyone so we got to hang with the 'bors too, which was nice. and sarah, diane, and i all kinda want to make out with mike who's 50 and very intriguing... i digress. ok, so we were giving the early birds one piece of candy (like 1 kit kat or 1 take five). then we began to notice that some kids were actually avoiding my beautiful well-lit abode and deliberately choosing to walk through the mud by the dark house across the way and we then also realized that the 84,000 kids that we had originally planned for, were in fact not coming. we had to "quickly" switch gears and give the later kids in the second hour giant sweeping handfuls. also, i would like to know why those bitches across the street with all the fall decorations had their effing lights off. that's bs. the lady directly across the street from ms. october 31st cannot be halloween scrooge. how can me of all people possibly live across the street from halloween scrooge. @&!. long-haired, 5yr-old shaggy kid was adorable. he was sitting in a wagon being pulled around by his mom (or dad. i can't remember) and he could barely come up for air to say thanks because his mouth was so full of candy. very effing cute. i want one like that. now. coincidentally, i carved a pumpkin in under 7 minutes while i was waiting for diane and sarah to show up. i'm fantastic. the decorations will stay up for a little longer and then i'll close the books on halloween 2005. it was a good one. i'll miss ya old pal.

on a lighter note

steph is the hero of the day. she threw a pumpkin carving party last night and it is my new current happy place. a bunch of girls sitting around woodford in the fall carving pumpkins, listening to my halloween inspired cd, eating donuts, drinking cider and pumpkin beer, and roasting seeds. i was really calm and happy just taking it all in. sarah was an amazing sport. she did not complain once, which is like non-stop for 6 hours. but it's ok. pumpkin guts can be gross if halloween isn't your xmas. once we finished carving (it took me like 5 mins because i totally rule), we put some candles in those guys and then sat around in the glowing pumpkin light reading meg's magazines where meg narrated the 12 sexy secrets in her slutty phone sex voice. steph offered to pay her $1.99 a minute and then, wait. that last part is not really in the happy place memory but it's in there and i can't get it out. anyway, it was a great night and steph, do not use a fork to clean out the insides ever again. that shit was gross. it did not look like cheese or spaghetti. it looked like intestines.

get excited for my house on the big day people. i'm gonna have like 84,000 kids on my porch!!

'quick question'

these might just be my two most favorite words in the english language - used together, sometimes around 4:45PM. but let me clarify something, quick questions plop in at any time of day and are equally as annoying at any hour. there's no weighting here. everyone and their retarded brother wants to ask me a quick question, or this in IM, 'hey, qq for ya'. you know what bitches, it's never a qq. it's never, ever been a qq to date, and i've been doing this for 52,560 hours. never in my 52,560 units of misery has your question ever been something that i can just blindly blurt out a mindless answer for. 'hey qq for ya.' 7. 7 is my answer. or no. no is my answer. seriously. these questions require me to redefine an entire corporate bee's nest process, or write a new system to rival microsoft windows, or figure out the world's energy crisis, or unlock the secrets to our resource management problem, or maybe figure out what to do with our health care situation. i don't know you guys. i can't fix these problems in the latter part of a day. something is wrong with me. obviously. so i would like to formally apologize to everyone (and their retarded brothers) for being so inadequate with regard to fielding the qq's. so sorry. so m-effing sorry, u sons of b's. the qq'ers are sons of b's. i'm so pissed. i'm gonna go punch some random jack in the chest.

adventures in aviariatrics (or AA for short)

you're never going to believe what i'm about to tell you. sex and the city reruns from last night jogged my memory. thank goodness for candace bushnell and those 4 crazy hors. i was driving to class last saturday morning. EARLY. it was a little after 7am and i'm on the long road to 480, which is kind of rural, but not exactly. the houses along there all have really deep, wooded lots so they can probably have animals if they want to. hey you know what, they want to. i heard a rooster crowing in real life for the first time ever in my 27 years, in the suburbs. i was so pleased. you would have to be. i mean, who in the greater cleveland area really ever hears this? after like 2 minutes of complete bewilderment, i thought of how happy the neighbors of the rooster people must be. pretty happy i'll bet.

eff boo

halloween brings out my cold, dark side, which is why i love it so much and i finally got a few pumpkins for my special upcoming xmas. the pumpkins are really cute and one actually doesn't stand on its own. nice. i got a retard. anyway, i was really excited to have my pumpkins out there on the front porch and then i found out some very distressing news. apparently i live in a stepford neighborhood. who knew? erik with a k knew. he shared the info and i'm none too pleased. we begin the story...

there are tons of families in my 'planned unit development' (PUD from here on out) who stay far, far away from me, the little single mutant. well, i don't think i'm a mutant, but i'm pretty sure they do. you can let me know what you think. so these stepfords (if i'm a mutant, you are definitely a stepford) have kids. and these kids, they go to school on buses. BUSES THAT PICK EACH KID UP AT THE END OF HIS OR HER DRIVEWAY EVERY MORNING. well you'll never guess what. the moms all go stand at the end of the driveway too - and i mean every last mom. then, they all have a meeting once the kids get on the bus. they stand there drinking coffee, wearing sweats, chatting about fake purses, and generally just looking like big a-holes. now i have no idea what they do once i leave the hood, but i know at least one small part of it includes thinking up dumb stuff to do with the others in the PUD. you've been waiting patiently so here it is. they're 'booing' people. these a-holes are booing each other. they took an email chain letter and personified it in real life with a big gay gesture involving real candy and my xmas. what the fuck morons. booing involves a basket of candy left anonymously on someone's porch with a note informing them that they have been booed and now must return the favor by booing two other fams. "hehe. i just added a few things to your to-do list that are completely immature and insane! enjoy!" these bitches haven't booed me yet and i don't think they will. i'm the single mutant and have placed a sign in my window that says 'if any of you bitches boo me, i'll fucking kill you. thanks!' i don't know about you but that says merry xmas to me. merry. fucking. xmas. get off me.

this is what it looks like from the stairs around 7am.

what did you do to deserve this

i'm blogging for the second time in the same month. this is preposterous. you're very lucky. maybe it's the 8% of great lakes beer talking. we'll never know.

i spent the weekend in real estate class and it ruled my kingdom. how can someone love real estate so much? today we talked about the different aspects of real estate finance and the teacher (who was the exact replica of the man who played rachel's dad on friends) nicknamed all 45 people in the room. i was danelly. solon, irish, old navy, harley, parma, richie, murray hill, key, avon girls, and phil were also present. it was a good crowd for a 9-hour discussion on all the types of mortgages one can obtain and just how intimate you, the licensee, need to get with a buyer's credit score. i just got chills.

sarah and i caught 'elizabethtown' with steph. great movie and i'm not a big movie fan but it was long and slow paced, but deep. perfect. also, orlando bloom has perfect lips. if they were a cottage, i'd rent them for the summer. but before i saw this movie, i participated in a standoff at the gate (my hood for those who are not paying attention). the spiders in my basement are larger than any i've ever seen in a residential setting. big don said to stock up on the wasp spray until my dad can come exterminate them. the size of my entire thumb and deep black. you can hear them walking from across the length of my 52-foot foundation. steph said she would come murder them. i'm gonna hold you to that doc. and, i'm willing to pay you a weekly fee since these monsters debilitate me when we're feuding over the same room.

i had that date with match guy 1. he was very cute and had just about every component i look for. he emailed me today to see if i wanted to dine again soon, but maybe cook in his kitchen this time... not too shabby for rachel. hey you know what? i always, always want to cook in your kitchen. i also got 3 more leads on new meat. they each seem really fun so far so i'll be setting up some calls this week. i'm meeting match guy 2 tomorrow so wish me luck. then, i'm going to shard's new house on tuesday to watch gilmore girls. i hear she has a giant clock. hmmm.

love bites is on xm. i'll do my 2 thanksgiving cents right now; i'm thankful for def leppard. ooh. 'the world don't need another lover' by giant steps just kicked on. get yourself some xm. this is fantastical.

i gotta do this

so i'm gonna break the cycle and post because i've been saving up some good shit for this mofo. i decided to just post what i feel like posting (within reason) because it's no fun when i censor myself in hopes of shielding some of the audience that i don't want to know what i'm REALLY thinking.

i've been doing online dating. it sucks. luckily i only signed up for a month because i wasn't too sure about it. i was right. you gotta be that person who loves to be online all the time, which clearly i'm not. i would be posting on this blog if i was. anyway, i've been talking to one of the guys pretty regularly and we're gonna meet this week. i've also been chatting with a few others and they're just not panning out so i now have to politely cut them off and that annoys the shit out of me. if i end up meeting 1 great guy, it will have all been worth it. but ugh. this is preposterous.

OH, you wanna know what else is pre-pos? my fucking sofa. that hell of shit needs to get its damn ass to my house already. i told sarah today that i haven't been able to lay around since august. how is that even possible? goddammityoueffingsofa. get to the gate!

i'm taking real estate classes. this one lady minister was there last week. here's why she's decided to get her real estate license; it's a calling from god that she help grow the lord's kingdom through real estate sales. um. who has time for this?

i never did the month of drunk like i was planning. i'm older. i'm tired. i hate my life. it's impossible to settle in and enjoy a good fall microbrew when you're so pissed with the state of affairs.

i LOVE baseball in the fall. let's go angels. and a-rod. i love a-rod.

john sent me a link today. it's a link that really spoke to me. please take some time to read it. but don't come post crazy comments about your crazy views here. i have my views. you have yours. let's just keep them to ourselves. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/sam-harris/there-is-no-god-and-you-_b_8459.html

what else. i miss college AND high school for once. the gilmore girls just had a kids dance recital and they were doing like, all of the showchoir songs we did in high school. it was very depressing because i cannot remember any of our dances. how much does life suck.

crazy frog prince ottoman

rejoice!

this is one of the happiest nights of my entire life right now. the power is out for my sector of the gate and so i'm sitting in my kitchen with creamy caramel scented candles burning while i listen to the mp3's on my laptop AND IT'S FALL!! AND I'M WATCHING THE MOON RISE FROM HERE!! and then i realized i could also compose blogs in this rare ethereal state i'm in. plus, obviously i'm drinking all the beer the fridge has to offer so i'm on a big puffy cloud. i have the biggest smile on my face but i'm not even sure if that's a true statement because i can't even see my face so what the eff ever. i love you!! i love me!! this is fantastic. wish you were here. xoxoxo

clearly the power just kicked back on. :(

just don't show the naked pictures

ok, dungs. i'ma do this because i just realized that it's the start of the weekend and i just hung light fixtures/curtains with my parents and then swiffered my kitchen floor...and liked it. i'm doomed.

7 Things I Plan to do Before I Die:
1.get married
2.sell real estate
3.open a wine bar
4.have a pumpkin patch
5.be perfect
6.be happy
7.go to my sons' football games on friday nights in the fall

7 Things I Can Do:
1.play almost-scratch golf
2.cook
3.bake
4.decorate
5.sing
6.melt icy people
7.britney's 'oops i did it again' dance

7 Things I Cannot Do:
1.speak french
2.see/smell/eat raisins
3.show cleavage
4.play guitar
5.married guys
6.stay mad at my sister
7.stop worrying

7 Things That Attract me to the Opposite (or same) Sex:
1.nice toes
2.handsome fingers
3.great teeth
4.a cute, little butt
5.glasses
6.confidence
7.intelligence/genius

7 Things That I Say Most Often:
1.what's up hor
2.shut it
3.i hate you
4.awesome
5.i'm gonna need you to...
6.yeah, oh yeah
7.i'll kill you

7 Celebrity Crushes:
1.bill clinton
2.ryan reynolds
3.jerry o'connell
4.dane cook
5.josh duhamel (no one can be this hot. it's just not right)
6.jesse bradford
7.the blond yale kid on gilmore girls

7 People I Want To Do This:
1.guy #1 i can't have
2.guy #2 i can't have
3.guy #3 i can't have
4.guy #4 i can't have
5.madonna
6.steph
7.hillary

i want to be the girl with the most cake

you guys! i'm so sorry i've been away for so long but moving into your first house can be a total bitch, but also pretty effing awesome. i'm sitting in my hearth room sipping coffee, listening to fred 44 and the construction on s/l 96 while donny drives back and forth in his blue truck. i have the slider open and seriously, there's just way too much back sun when your house faces west. i can't even tell you. i do have the greatest next door neighbor in the entire world. his name is bryan and he unloaded my u-haul truck with his buddy when we pulled up. it took them 20 minutes to unload the stuff it took us almost 3 hours to load. so now i'm waiting for the water meter guy and 2 lawn specialists to come tell me how much money i can give them so i figured i would stop in and drop off a little blog. here are a few of the things i've been doing with myself since i moved in last friday.

• packing up thousands of boxes and moving them
• watching my family painfully load my furniture onto the u-haul
• watching bryan and ed, poetry in motion on a friday night at 10:30pm
• running around like a crazy hor for groceries for bella's christening
• rushing to the airport to pick up the california relatives, which my parents could've TOTALLY done without me and my car right in the middle of my life change
• arranging cheese and crackers
• cutting up celery and rinsing carrots
• reconfirming that church is a total load of crap and a great excuse for people to act like a-holes so they can go to church on sunday and feel better about how they didn't act right all week
• watching my extended family run rampant through my sister's house, eating all her food
• hanging with sarah, john, diane, and sharda in my kitchen on sunday night, watching the xm radio display and fist pumping a lot. you guys are really great. thanx for breaking up the crazy on opening night.
• watching encore's big 80s movie weekend at 1am in my new house.
• watching planes from my 6 big windows with all the lights off at 2am
• using every last shred of my sanity to spend all of labor day shopping with my aunt, her husband, my parents, and my cousins. i did get 4 white distressed chairs and a headboard though, but i lost it on my mom at chipotle. it was entirely jerry's doing. he pushed the very last button i had.
• babysitting bella for 12 hours on wednesday and pretty much deciding that i might not have kids. don't get me wrong, she rules. i'm guess i'm just not ready for them.
• strategizing about how i might need to move to chicago to get away from my family
• missing the dog and trees
• spending the day at some very interesting, educational places on tuesday and thursday
• dreading 2006 because i know i'm going to shake it all up. i won't be able to help myself.

so there you have it. a brief, somewhat vague summary of my week off, which i will definitely be needing a week off to rest from. it was the most amazing, worst week off i've ever had.

you get all concernicus

this is probably getting old, but greg evigan was in front of me in traffic today. i know you're wondering how i could possibly get all the luck. by luck, i obviously mean tina yothers, markie post, and greg evigan -only 3 of the greatest 'stars' to ever walk the 80s sitcom street. well, actually, my only logical guess is that it had to be greg evigan because who else would have the 'my2dads' personalized plates on his white, '94 taurus. i mean really.

there's much to ponder during the morning rides to work. today i was dissecting 'no outlet' signs. they tell us that the street(s) in the little development across the way have no other exit route to any of the other fine parts of the city, so don't try it. you'll be sad to find that they really meant 'no outlet'. now, this could be helpful in only 1 of 2 situations because the single, twenty-something who's lost on his way to co-worker dave's bbq for all couples (and him) knows he can turn around anywhere he wants, especially the no outlet street, but probably won't just so he can be late and can spend less time at the thing. it's really only helpful to the driver who's leading the police on a wild, high-speed chase through the 'burbs (or wherever) because he or she knows to avoid that avenue as part of their strategery to lose the smokey on the motorcycle, because hello, there's no outlet. so that's pretty much what i came up with this morning.

but coincidentally, friday night on my way home from my ballet date, i saw a stand-off in progress on the other side of i-71 at midnight. the cops were in full effect, like 5 cars all flashing, and they were standing in position, with arms drawn on the suspect (who was weaving around the interstate with his hands in the air). i only experienced it for the 2 or 3 seconds as i flew past, but it was awesome. i got chills. the perp had like long hippie hair and reminded me of charles manson a little. i got home and big don told me that that right there is why i should get home sooner, because of the crazies who are milling around i-71 at midnight on fridays, who will get me.

call me when you grow some junk

a few things. steph and i went to see the ballet in the park on friday night. it was fan. i just shortened it. (fantastic for those not up to speed on the latest ling-trends.) so for the record, steph did NOT come up with that. i love the ballet and opera so this evening in the park with the arts stuff was right in my court. steph packed listerine wine and cheese and we laughed about old college times as we watched grown men dance in skin colored tights which essentially made us feel like they were naked. it was excellent. we also decided that we had a really nice date and that one of us should get man parts since we have so much fun together. i vote for steph. oh, our hippie/lawyer/magistrate sorority chapter advisor was there with her husband and babies and if there's a man for her, there's a man for me.

what else. i hate technology. i hate when i have to spend 30-some hours in one weekend making old shit talk to new shit because someone forgot to loop me in a few months ago. that's why i signed up for some really interesting fun that will take $1100 out of my house account but make me unbelievably happier around november or december. i can't wait to finish it and then tell you what it is. i love that people are going to be all crazy because i won't say what it is here. ok. i'll tell you. i signed up to be a stripper because i can't tell you how much i enjoy peeling off clothing and singles from my cash wad at the grocery store when i'm in a line with all men. they always stare. and you totally know they're wondering if any of those singles belong to them from the other night. i also taught my 7-month old niece about the importance of jewelry from tiffany's today. she's on the right track, i'll tell you that much.

i'm gonna run 2 miles now and then maybe have a beer. steph and i used to work out in college and drink beer instead of water while we ran or whatever. i highly reccommend it. i don't care if it's 12am and a school night. do it.

can you handle the fudge

so thanks to john for posting drunk last night. much appreciated. and thanks to the blizzard fan club for the ever so clever title i used. i mean really. can you handle the fudge.

as for the bathroom fibers post, i'm only a little sorry. if i have to see it, you have to hear about it. you would think that people don't want to do the big stuff at work to begin with, but then to not ensure of its flush? i'm now going to give you an example of something i might bubble letter on this whiteboard in the bathroom at work since more than a few people have inquired on these mystery fibers;

"dear RT, if you insist on having stuffed cabbage for breakfast, please don't. it's effing disgusting when i have to see it after it comes out."

you're all very very gross. sorry, russ. i know you didn't want to know. that should just about do it for the fibers though, so let's move on.

now to offset all the disgustion from above, i'm going to have you chew on a story from my days in the first grade.

i sat next to a boy whose initials were MH and he was really cute (short dark messy hair, 52lbs, giant feet, nice). he would always sit there beside me just sketching things, and very well for a 6yr-old i might add. one day, like all good first graders, we were watching a filmstrip about dinosaurs. but halfway into the filmstrip, i started to feel sick. (don't worry. i did not vomit on anyone in this story.) i went over to mrs. m-co to get her in on my situation and she pretty much just sent me back to my seat since this short film was pretty short (and riveting). i notice MH starting to sketch something across the aisle but i don't think much of it. turns out old MH was paying pretty close attention though because once the filmstrip was over, he slid a little black and white drawing over to my desk that he had made especially for me since i wasn't feeling well. you'll never guess what it was. ok. yep. you guessed it. it was none other than an 18-wheeler truck drawn in first grade safety pencil, complete with shading and my initials all over the one side of the cabin. it made me feel so special that i almost forgot how sick i felt for those few moments before the teacher's aide came to take me to the nurse (where i may or may not have vomitted on stuff).

i love ya MH. hope you're not in some jail somewhere today.

i'm busy. you're ugly. have a nice day.

we need whiteboards in the bathrooms at work, like college. when someone would leave used 'pons or traces of fibers floating in the 'let, we would simply leave scathing bubble letter notes for each other on the board and then brooch the subject at chapter meetings and at all meals in the u. um hello, "ladies", you're effing disgusting. your 1 job is to flush and ensure that flushing actually occurs. i don't care about any of your other tasks in there. wipe, don't wipe. whatever. if you're reading this, stop leaving 'fibers'. i'll puke on you since i have a photographic memory and can actually picture the shoes you wear. yet sadly, i don't think any of you are reading this. oh hey, don't think that i can't photographically recall what the fibers look like either. you're gross. big don sucks for making me inherit this photographic h from her.

hey speaking of markie post, she was in traffic behind me last week which is crazy because remember when tina yothers was? anywho, markie was back there in her silver, mini-suv, with her blond markie post, fluffy, straightened, mullet-doo applying her damn lipstick. it was funny. i thought of you guys.

peaches. i cannot believe i forgot about how awesome peaches are. if you are in need of snack, i suggest you go get some peaches. or, perhaps just 1. i don't care. they're delicious. i guess i got so mad at bananas that i just stopped paying attention to like, all fruit, except for blueberries, which i was still hanging out with because they generally rule when you freeze them and then enjoy them on warm summer days and nights. obviously. so in summary, i'll build a house inside of you. peace. taggin out.

august 31st

so i got the call. i'm goin to the show. well ok, i'm not going to the show, but i am getting the keys to my brand new house on august 31st. when i read the email from matt, i became catatonic and was momentarily paralyzed because i couldn't breathe. i've been waiting for this day since december and i never thought it would come and i don't even know how i made it to august. so get excited - i'm throwin a kegger for labor day. well ok, i'm not, but i could if i wanted to. now for the tagging. f u sarah.

10 years ago: i was in show choir with 'rachel' hair

5 years ago: i was very very drunk in my 'glamorous' big 5 consulting job

1 year ago: i was graduating from grad school, nocturnal, and only a little drunk

Yesterday: i was milling around home depot, not at all drunk

Tomorrow: i will mill around home depot

5 snacks I enjoy: snyders sourdough nibblers, beer, oreo blizzards, and that's it

5 bands/artists that I know the lyrics to most of their songs: britney spears, the smiths, billy joel, frank sinatra, hall & oates

5 things I'd do with $100,000,000: give family and friends what they need to live comfortably/happily, buy more real estate, open a golf course, buy some really unstable/risky stocks, produce broadway shows

5 locations I'd like to run away to: vancouver, paris, napa, french polynesia, seattle

5 bad habits I have: judging, expecting too much, not wearing a seatbelt, usually driving over 80mph, fearing comittment

5 things I like doing: golfing, sitting outside in the fall drinking red wine, driving and listening to my favorite songs really loud, 'designing' homes, when my mom, sister, niece, and i have a girls day

5 things I will never wear: turtleneck tops of any variety, shorts of any variety, a pinky ring, red clothing in general, white on white mom-dad sneakers

5 TV shows I like: will & grace, reno 911, cbs sunday morning, howard hanna/smythe cramer showcase of homes, gilmore girls

5 movies I like: 10 things i hate about you, dazed and confused, caddyshack, animal house, van wilder

5 people I'd like to meet: dane cook, ryan reynolds, bill clinton, (people i wanna do, right?) and why not - hillary and chelsea too

5 biggest joys at the moment: bella, max, beatrice, the lunch buddies, fridays

5 favorite toys: the auditor website, xm radio, my new house, howardhanna.com, my callaway driver

i am tagging virgil.

we all want 38

i'm not really very happy right now (in the profound sense) so here are some of the little things about life that make me feel better.

• pedicures
• one extremely bitter golden microbrew-ish lager
• spontaneously taking off work on perfect weather days
• spontaneity
• golf
• my house
• my small poodle
• my niece
• real estate
• scarf belts
• scarves
• starbucks
• fall, the moon, & halloween

tonight...i celebrate my love for u...

toren is a legend, and, my new hero. this post makes me feel as though i should hand over my twenties gun seeing as how i've been pissing it away for so long. the drunken dart-swim-blizzard-cheese fries night reminds me of college. way to girl tor. you can't hear me right now, but i'm singing the 'mrs. 4am cheese fries skivvy-dipper' bud commercial song. thanks for being the wind beneath my wings. i'm going to get back down to business in about a month or so. life's too short to not be playing drunk, midnight, mostly-naked, glow-in-the-dark golf.

in other news, my car's battery was dead when i got out to the garage last night. my sister had to drive me home and then big don and my dad had to drive me back so we could change it. car fixings of any sort irritate me very much and i can't figure out why. my parents took me to the bell for cheezy gordita crunches afterwards so i would say it worked out just fine. man i love those taco bell guys.

what else... penny etiquette. why don't they just charge $1.60 instead of $1.59? i'd much rather give you the 1.60 and then just bolt. i don't want to wait for that effing penny that NO ONE wants to deal with. they don't want it. you don't want it. goddammpennies. get off me.

tina! come eat some ham!

this might become the regular column that i do from time to time, snippets from the IM chat where i pass time with shop dungs. or not. i don't know. enjoy.

• chop: you at your house?
• rachel fitzwater: yep
• chop: slacker
• rachel fitzwater: yeah seriously
• chop: in your underwear
• rachel fitzwater: you got it
• chop: drinking alcohol
• rachel fitzwater: 3 for 3
• chop: I own you
• rachel fitzwater: that would be correct
• rachel fitzwater: wait. you just described u, didn't u
• chop: maybe
• rachel fitzwater: in your .5's
• rachel fitzwater: slurping labatt
• rachel fitzwater: looking just off to the right like a crazy
• rachel fitzwater: as tho no one were standing in front of you
• chop: nah I don't really have any .5's
• chop: but other than that you're dead on
• rachel fitzwater: uh huh

the trees are not good

i'd really like to post because i have much laundry but i really don't think it's a good idea so i'll just go ahead and post anyway and be hella cryptic in hopes that it makes me feel a little better. let's have a go.

the puppy should not be as serious. he needs time to ponder so he can better determine which tree he wants to pee on and how much he wants to pee on it and when/where. peeing on the tree can obviously be good but it can get to the point where the tree(s) would eventually like to see the puppy figure out just where all this pee comes from. the pee has a source and that pee source seems to need definition. maybe drink less of the water. maybe drink something other than water. maybe just stop drinking water. when the trees are not good, some collective soul in the universe gets the brunt of that negative energy they're exuding and the universe could clearly do without all that superfluous negatory. no one wants to upset the balance of the yin and the yang. that's silly. it's ultimately a subconscious effort and very hard to control. when the water dries up, it's a bad thing. never stop drinking the water though because i fear that this will cause the source to dry up. i think the answer lies therein but, within the puppy. coincidentally, the puppies are also not good so i guess the trees need to try their hardest to stay objective and not worry about where the final twister spinner wheel thingy will land. the trees usually know what they're doing afterall and left foot green is HIGHLY unlikely.

ok yeah. i actually feel better. and sorry if you think you're trying to figure out what i'm saying here. you couldn't possibly decrypt the way i literally just encrypted the way i think.

bk lounge yo... but not without coops.

how YOU doin'

i don't think a boy could ever make me as happy as i am right now.

like pudding on the inside

sandra day o'connor, you win the nobel suck prize. why do you think you can just retire and potentially overturn the balance of an entire country's delicate, moral/legal ecosystem. i'm so mad at you.

luther vandross passed away. whoa. i never thought luther vandross could just pass away like that. 54, complications from a stroke. get out there and hug a loved one i guess.

biology, chemistry, and botany that are taught in schools as required coursework; why isn't this a much bigger national debate fueled by the religious right. i mean, these subjects clearly outline logical, factual evidence about life as we know it and how it came to be. they're awfully quiet over there lately. that's all i'm saying.

sarah, i told you hors that we shouldn't play 'Life' a second time because i would kick your asses, but you guys never listen. you're drunk, but are your physical needs being met? ask steph.

big don's parting words for the day, as spoken to my dad just seconds ago; 'hey, i have to go get that stuffed poodle. i don't have time to lounge around here all day.'

anonymous probably hates sarah...

...or what 5 things do you miss about your childhood?

Tagged by Sarah at Okay Seriously - (okay, i seriously hate you)
But first the rules to this meme game:

Remove the blog at #1 from the following list and bump every one up one place; add your blog's name in the #5 spot; link to each of the other blogs for the desired cross pollination effect.

1. so anyway...
2. both hands
3. Forward Motion
4. Okay Seriously [most awesome blog ever... seriously]
5. i probably hate you

Next: select new friends to add to the pollen count. (No one is obligated to participate).

1. shop dungarees
2. lucky pink
3. LibbY!

Your turn:
1. running around the yard with no pants on
2. entire street flashlight-tag tournaments
3. legos/sandbox hour with scott m. (or scottie pottie)
4. halloween night with all my cousins
5. everything about my grandfather

doot-dooooo-doo-doo-doo

i found an old friend today. if the video doesn't just start playing, click the link to the bottom left. this kept me busy for at least an hour.

http://www.koreus.com/files/200405/mahnamahna.html

free falling

i came up with some things.

• i could watch movie trailers and only movie trailers and that would be ok.
• hoover has the dumbest commercials for their dumb vacuums. some people are standing beside vacuums saying that their vacuum makes them look good. ridiculous.
• it's really cheap to build a house. the bills just stop coming.
• saw the first 30min of 'hitch'. wow.
• it's possible for me to get heartburn from toast.
• i have to move out of my parents' house for the first time, ever, in less than 45 days.
• the war hit my neighborhood for the first time this weekend and has changed me forever.

hey nineteen

i was putting new grips on my golf clubs last night and tore a giant, raw wound into the side of my right thumb and wow is that an important body part that gets more use than i would've thought. i'm basically an idiot and it's basically a burning, raw, large, open blister and chris at work asked me to please cover it so i put my left hand over my right hand for him. also, if someone knows dan's email address, they should give it to me so i can get him to regrip the last 5 eye 2's i didn't get to if he wants me to carry him on my back in that scramble next weekend.

incidentally, someone found john's lost 2way pager and paged me today. it said this: 'i'm agree with you too. who's your mama'. ok. what? it didn't seem like john and i had already heard that his pager was lost so i may have then wished them luck in their surgery where they get their nizzies whacked and erik may have also paged them something about getting the old nutbag sliced. and then maybe sarah also did something like that. not sure. i'm guessing this psychopath saw that he/she was dealing with several much bigger psychopaths.

there's a room where the light won't find you

hey, i didn't meet any boys at my dad's cousin's kid's high school graduation party. well, wait. would you count my dad's cousin's wife's sister's husband? because i met him for the first time on saturday.

what else. i completely wasted the day today. i got up at 8:30,looked at pictures of my house for 30 minutes, made breakfast for max, brewed up some coffee, drank the cofffee while i watched 'sunday morning' with a stand-in for charles osgood, finished up my laundry, ran 3 miles, burned 2 CDs, finally took a shower at like 2pm, got dressed, visited my sister and bellie to get coupons, and then hit the mall for a father's day present and went to starbucks. THEN, i came home to feed max again and watch a little bit of 50 first dates on HBO and started thinking about how my sister's husband said there's a lid for every pot, then i went to take a few pictures of my house since the sky was blue and then came home and had a beer. all in all it was a pretty nice little sunday.

it's my party and i'll cry if i want to

it wasn't so much my party as it was my cousin's weekend wedding marathon, 2005. my sister and i blessed it with this well-deserved title given the length and events of the last 72 hours. let me just state for the record that i'm NEVER getting married. it's now more absolutely official than it's ever been. not only did the actual wedding festivities last for 3 days, but it was extremely ethnic given our ridiculous heritage, which i'm not going to dwell on. it was ethnic and long and i'll now furnish the old blog with the thoroughly inconsequential highlights.

- it's time that the toothless guests charged up some dental work on the plastic. good god wedding groupies. you guys need to lay off the expensive clothes, shoes, purses, and cars and do something about the teeth you don't really have. well ok. i'm sorry. you do each have like 2 or 3 per person. whatever your case is, stop smiling at me. it's very unsettling.

- i finally got a breath of fresh air a few hours ago. i've been in a cloud of heavy, heavy cologne, perfume, and smoke and was starting to think i would get more relief if i would've just had my groomsman partner guy drive me in our non-air conditioned crap-trap right over to the asbestos store so i could inhale some glass particles.

- estranged brother of the bride and cousin of mine, i really really don't care for you and will not spare any squirts of pee if ever you needed them to save your life. thanx for crashing the reception with your actual hor.

- mother nature, hey you big beotch. i couldn't have asked for a more humid, 85 degree day in early june to have to spend 86 hours in wedding day hell.

- the bartenders who reached ice-cold miller lite cans out of an ice-filled bucket for me all evening were truly terrific. man i love you guys. favorite part of the wedding. hands down.

- when there's no dj and the band is a non-english speaking ethno-pop situation, it's more fun than i can describe.

- when they tell you that the cake is some sort of chocolate/raspberry torte, i expect some pretty fantasticly elaborate chocolate/raspberry torte not a spongecake with red jelly. goddamnyoustupideffingliars.

- if you're the bride, do not make the priest (and your entire wedding party & groom) wait an hour for you in the parking lot at the rehearsal because you incorrectly timed the manicure stuff. the wedding party and groom will still do just about everything you ask for but the priest will make your reception kick-off start an hour late because he feels like it and because he's a bitter, bitter man.

- oh, this is actually my favorite part of the whole eternal mess. everyone speaks the native language to each other all the live-long day with complete disregard for the non-speakers, or me. fortunately danielle doesn't speak the language so she was in her own little world for 97% of the nightmare. they would resort to periodically stopping and yelling my name like chevy chase yells 'rusty!' in the national lampoon movies. i'd be right next to them with my 'yeah dad' every damn time.

the wedding rituals this troop requires encompass 6 hours of hall-decorating the day before, 2.5 hours of rehearsal because some poeple have no respect for other peoples' time, a 6 hour send-off party at the bride's house the morning of, 60 minutes in the church for the actual wedding, 60 minutes in the church for all the post pcitures with friends and family, 6-10 hours at the hall for the reception, then another 6 hours the day after for 'day 2'. i knew it was all coming. it cost maid-of-honor-me $675 to be in it.

the wedding prep bullshit in last month has been building up inside me like a volcano and finally erupted friday and saturday. first and foremost, i don't understand the concept of marriage. i will never be able to rationalize how people can enter into this binding contract/institution willingly for 'eternity'. i can't even articulate my thoughts on people that do it 2 or 3 times. and the giant, exhorbitant wedding day party, that's just immature. if you do think you've found yourself a partner that you love and want to spend countless hours with for the rest of your life, your focus should be on that, not the kick-off party and its worthless flowers/decorations/nail polish/jewelry/gowns/shoes/hair/food/napkins/ice/lace/white lights/candles/archways/bridal-car-line-up details. is this shit about your new life with a true love or how many strings of white lights, fake flowers, and clear-topped push pins did or did not make it into the decor of the reception hall ?

u wanna watch cheese or snow

advice and stuff:
if your name is dana, it's probably best not to go into showbiz cuz you'll end up dying at a young age. i'm talkin' dana hill and dana plato. and ice-cream trucks have begun to revisit my scene. you know how some people feel weird about clowns? that's how i feel about ice-cream trucks. they're like big creepy circus-show clown freak ice-machines on wheels with the scary little pipe music. and i'm sitting on my back patio watching birds poop, because that's literally all there is to see. they stand all straight and proper and then just start pooping. impressive.

so i've been pretty exhausted lately and i don't really have an explanation for why. instead of discussing that though, i'm going to tell a story of when a boy was naked with me in my dorm room. 'some people' need to read about this and like to hear about when i was fun and crazy. he's fine. also, the college i went to was located in a city that didn't allow greek houses, so we had to live in the dorms on floors that were specific to our greek organizations so that's why me and 60 phees lived in the dorms our senior year. we were living in our 'house'.

it was my senior year and i had just landed my first job for after graduation. it literally transpired in this order; hot bobby calls to offer me the job around 1pm. i dance around and call my family until 1:45pm. then steph and i take a nap around 2 because that's what college seniors do. my sorority sisters and i then headed out to happy hour around 5:30. we hit that shit hard for a good 4 hours and then headed to bar #2, old faithful. we're all up in there for a ton of shots with JD. he was our age and also a senior with us but reminded me of a creepy molester/stalker, but he was a really really good dude. sorry if you're reading this, JD. but you could be construed as creepy if someone didn't know you. anyhoo...we were hanging with JD and filtering around old tiny little jack's. good times from what i remember. i start dancing obviously and end up 'wrangling' a bit of a man on the dance floor. it was my big day after all and i was feeling sassy. we'll call him JR. we're all over each other and it's probably starting to make people wanna vomit. i don't know how it went down, but we ended up at the bar where JD and steph were. i told them 'we' were leaving and steph thought it was a good idea so she starts heading out with us. whoa there nelly, this is a private party. JD stops her as he sees that someone had re-discovered her beer goggles. it didn't even occur to me to stop her because i was that hammered.

so JR and i begin our journey to the dorms. i don't remember the walk, but i remember what happened next... mostly. we get to my room and basically start going at each other like really hungry, wild chipmunks. i have no idea how long the festivities lasted. i know we were not wearing clothing though because i distinctly remember JR not being of the colony that subscribes to undergarments. overall, it was fun but not very good. i guess it's fine when you're both drunk, but never when he's the only one drunk because there's no way he'll be able to get anything up. we can discuss this another time. at some point, steph comes home with our friend kyle. they unknowingly barge right in and find us promptly throwing a cover over ourselves and pretending to sleep. clearly we were drunk morons. like they're gonna think we were sleeping after that ruckus. steph crosses the room to go sit on her bed for a good seat to watch the action. she also pointed out that that goddamn song, 'too close' was playing on the effing radio. you know the piece of crap where they sing about a poke comin' thru. goddammitsteph. kyle ushers her out of the room after about a minute and the mood is dead for JR and me. i get up and head to the common bathroom on our floor where i find 7 or 8 sisters. i figure, it's time to get the boy out of my room. i ask them how to accomplish this. they tell me to tell him that i'm tired. what?? you stupid bitches, that's not gonna work. they then proceed to tell me that maybe i should tell him i feel sick or that steph's on her way home. right on sisters. i head back there and when i get to the room, steph's calling. thanks again dr. hor for your timing there. i have no idea what we spoke of or if we even actually formed sentences, but i do know that i got right off the phone and told JR that she was on her way back. he leaped up and frantically got dressed and darted from old heritage like his butt was on fire. i guess she was scary. who knows. when steph gets back, we re-hash a few of these details and then pass out because we're still working off of probably 15 drinks, each.

the next morning we re-hash AGAIN and then head over to the union for breakfast where we happen upon a few our good buddies. it's there that steph and jarey ask me about JR's underchoices. how could i have forgotten that this dude wasn't wearing boxers or anything? it hit me like an avalanche when they asked. yikes JR. why no panties for you? anyway, they ripped on me until, well, they still are. i can't live it down. don't get me started on jesse's girl doc. don't even get me started.

oh you know what? JR was calling and calling and calling after our interlude. i was obviously ignoring him...because he was not the type of boy one would bring home had she not had 15 beers. good memory to nip your alkie career right in the bud.

so there you have it. a naked boy story. eac.

eac, obviously

i found a new band love interest. 'vhs or beta' is on repeat and i can't make them stop, nor do i want that. it's really weird though because i have them looping and then mr. mister's 'kyrie' shows up at the end of their spin and it totally effing rules. kyrie lays on down the road that i must travel!! (or whatever)

britney and kevin also totally ruled again tonight. you must give old k-douche a little bit of credit. he swooped in on bspears the second she was ready for a guy and married her filthy rich bank account. this was some damn good work on his lazy ass part and he's smarter than he looks or seems in their seedy homemade porn videos that we see in the form of 'britney and kevin - chaotic' every tuesday night. i'd also like to note that i could do without the extreme lip/tongue/tonsilitis close-ups. i puked all over everything i could see. it was disgusting. hey b-dog, thanx again for cancelling the cleveland show twice. u rule.

there's nothing more memorable than strength

me being online for work at this hour is why i'm so happy with my professional life.

this post's title hits me where i live. for some reason, i feel that me being really strong about 'things' in life gives me some shred of satisfaction, yet i think it's actually more self-defeating than anything else but i'm not convinced that i could ever let it go, the strength that is. what would i have without it and would i still be me? i don't think so but this could be a good thing. if independence and freedom are tied to strength, i might literally dissolve from being stripped of everything i am. hmmm. i don't want to shed the strength. i like me.

i hate when you try to surf through the blogs with 'next blog' and people have crazy techno-transitions and activex shatt that effs your pc up when it launches. then it loads the page and it's in a language pack that i obviously don't have enabled. thanx for making my surf so easy and fun at 4am.

kermit and the flower?

i just found this picture of myself from 23 years ago. this was some key bonding time with the red carnation and the rather new looking kermit doll. seriously, i have no idea why it looks like i'm singing to myself with eyes closed while clutching kermit the frog and a flower in a vase.

brilliance at age 4.

do u remember...the 21st night of september

i think it was like 4 and half years ago. i was working for a company called 'fraccenture' out of tampa, florida. there was a fairly large project team working on an electricity de-reg thingy for the state of texas, and it was captivating work. let's just say i did not become dependent on coffee that year. there were kids of all ages. it ranged from 23-year old me all the way up to mike c. rounding it off at 50 something. it didn't matter what your age was though, you worked until midnight or 2am just like everyone else. when new nerds were added to the project, the project manager expeditiously planned a night of dinner and drinks so that everyone could get to know each other over several dozen spirits. it was also customary to do the same when someone's time on the team was scheduled to end. that's what this story's about, sd's roll-off party.

we all headed over to moon over something/tampa for moroccan fare and just about every specialty beer/wine/liquor in existence. those were my white russian days so i was all lit up on the vodka. which by the way, i may revisit very very soon. there's nothing wrong with lovin our colorless, odorless friend. i digress. so sd was rolling off the project and onto something else. he was a fun-loving crazy guy that was always the go-to for the scoop on after hours fun. he looked like a cross-between two famous guys. (i can do this with any guy by the way.) picture jonathan silverman with hints of kenny loggins . not at all bad looking and not at all heroin skinny like k-log. i know that's an odd description but go with it. we ate the moroccan food for hours and then a bunch of people cabbed down to st. pete beach. sd loved this obscure little place called 'captain kozmoko's' and i might have just made that up. it was on the second floor of some weird florida beach dinner club and basically housed a dim-lit dance party for the elderly. and when i say elderly, i mean heads full of silver hair attached to saggy, saggy parts stuffed into a wide color spectrum of fancy, tight leather pantalones. these crows were ancient and out to get some. we were all really drunk and sd was starting to dance with the roll-y chairs, which meant that it was probably 2am and the kids were hammered. so this 74 year old lady heads out there and starts it up with sd. she was all about him. he was 28 and not as playful as luck would have it so he deflects the game right back at old marge. here's a bit of advice; the 600 year old ladies do not like to be shut down. he was probably 28 at the time and she was actually 600 so the pairing was hideous and not at all fair. we kinda thought she would end up taking him down. so there we are watching a rumble take shape among generation x and a bobby-soxer. at first we were a little worried, but then as the commotion cleared and the music slowed, it was obvious that sd did just wanna dance with his new lady friend. they ended up dancing uncomfortably close for another 2 minutes. and obviously we took pictures in horror. then he essentially passed out right into that roll-y chair and moldy old 600 limped away into the night. it was like something out of a movie from 1937.

poor kid. he was just trying to get his salsa on.

i heart u

that's my work of art off in the distance without a roof. it literally took my breath away this evening. :)

i am the registrant

it was the 7th grade. i had a very cute little man. for the sake of blogricy, we'll call him 'maury'. we had been going together for 1 entire month and for a multitude of reasons, our little relationship was way hotter than my 3-month marriage to 'bad-am' in the 6th grade, but not nearly as hot as the 'feff' sessions later that year. and don't you worry, i'll get to those.

so maury and i were really cute together. we were both preppy and always held hands between classes while obviously wearing brown penny loafers. we weren't making out a whole lot though because we weren't exhibitionists and wanted some damn privacy. i believe we were halfway through our third week together when we decided that we needed to start the 'frenching'. so, my best friend 'brary' arranged it with his best friend 'lick'. obviously. there's no way either of us were going to brooch the subject with the other since we were only in effect 'dating'. brary informs me that maury does in fact want to 'french' me. lick told her that maury was in and the deal was done. the lip-lock was set for lunchtime that day. whoa!! if you're danielle, you get all anxious-excited and start rooting through your locker and tiny liz claiborne purse for flavored lip gloss. good news, cherry cola in the house. boy was maury in for a treat. (as was danielle. that stuff tasted so effing amazing.) i should probably mention that this was not danielle's first french. she had already been doing that for like 2 months prior to maury. there was 'shmave' and 'hatt' and obviously they're not worth elaborating on. ok, so i'm getting all anxious at lunch and then i finally see lick stand up and start hauling maury over to mine and brary's table. they stop by and see if anyone wants to maybe 'stagger' a few visits out to the water fountain. and by few, i mean 4. brary and lick had to come out there too since it was the 7th grade and someone had to witness the magic. otherwise, no one would believe it. what?? also, the trips had to be staggered because 7th graders aren't allowed to travel in pairs since they could potentially be making-out somewhere. no worries there. anyhow, he goes out first and like 1 minute later, i follow. brary and lick show up soon after. SO THERE WE ARE. just the 4 of us. hangin' by the old fountain. we get the signal that the coast is clear, and we go at it. i'm thinkin’, not too shabby maury. not too shabby. then after about 11 seconds, i realize that the boy i'm kissing tastes like grape juice and ketchup and there's also a giant hint of cherry cola lip gloss too. wow. overload. the taste of maury's lunch is kinda gross, but hey, we're frenching so i pretty much ignore it. i think the interlude went on for another 30 seconds or so. the length of the kiss mattered big time in that place. 41 seconds was respectable and brary and lick definitely watched us like tiny little voyeurs but i guess that was fine. it was a very small public display and i couldn't sustain too much more since grape juice and ketchup are 2 things i have still never actually consumed on purpose. just the time maury and i made out, and that was indirect. i never imagined i would remember the maury taste. it hit me today when i caught a whiff of someone's grape juice at lunch. the memories scent conjures up are uncanny.

oh maury. i have no idea where you are today. and, i totally don't effing care.

you did your caff thing dog

it was going to be my forever secret with myself and 'we' were never going to tell anyone. i figured it was time to 'privately' discuss it in my 'diary'.

it was 4pm and my little work team was about to have a pretty serious, heavy meeting with our boss. on my way to 6i, i stopped in the bathroom for one quick, obvious reason. i go into stall 3 and line the seat with armor. i pull down my pants. i begin to descend...and that's when the unthinkable happened. my 2-way pager slides out of its worthless holder and right into the p-god and then sits there staring at me in waterlog. there's no way i'm interested in peeing anymore so i quickly assess the situation. i sort of have to pee. my pager's in the toilet swimming in the shallow end. my boss and team are waiting right outside since i'm always holding up everyone's processes. what to do. hmmm...jam your index finger and thumb into the icy depths to fish out the black plastic barbie computer and whisk it to anywhere but touching my skin. now, had it been tuesday morning, i might have just walked on out to the pager lady's desk and informed her of the tragedy, but seeing how it was after 4 on a friday and the office had tumbleweed rolling around, i knew i was out of luck and had to just suck the fat one. also, mrs. pager lady has sent me back to the bathroom to fish out pagers before. apparently they need to send the poop-ways back to the supplier for refurbishing. your phone/pager could've been in someone's feces. not mine, but i'm just saying. as one would imagine, this was pretty upsetting. you can wash your hands 3 times with enough soap to cleanse everything on guam, but it won't help. you pretty much have to suffer through the 93 minute meeting with your boss and be VERY aware of your right hand's whereabouts at ALL times. after the meeting, wash your hands 54 more times and then drown them in anitbacterial gel. then obviously go meet shop dungarees, sarah, and scott at the happy hour for a dortmunder and some bar stool porn game and then go home and shower. it's the only way to fix it.

so i had a few of the fingers on my right hand in 'clean' toilet water the other day and i haven't been the same since. i think the bottom line reads something like, 'i had my skin indirectly immersed in a lot of peoples' feces'.

free manure, rabbits, and chicks

-i think jesse mccartney's voice is suddenly going to change and ruin his cute little career. sorry small buddy.

-spring belts; i rediscovered my old friends this morning when i was getting ready for work. i was so happy to see them. how i forgot about them, i don't know.

-ear wax; i'm working on a way to permanently get rid of it. it's annoying.

-good and evil; we allow them to be personified as a futile effort to blame someone else for our actions.

-mexican fare; yeah, not so much.

like a 'twister', i was born to walk alone

the following is an IM chat that took place between shop dungarees and myself. this is an important conversation that required internet documentation so that it could be in the archives forever. i'm rachel fitzwater and he's secret eddie. i will expound on how we got our screen names...but not today.

rachel fitzwater: the kid! is hot tonite! whoa! so hot tonite! but where will he be tomorrow?
secret eddie: rock on
rachel fitzwater: i was gonna offer u 5 if u could tell me the artist
rachel fitzwater: i might still
rachel fitzwater: xm-online has renewed my work life
secret eddie: I'm at a loss
secret eddie: it's like some rockin 70's band
rachel fitzwater: or loverboy
secret eddie: I know
rachel fitzwater: you're gay
secret eddie: then you must be a dude
rachel fitzwater: totally
secret eddie: I'm gonna go pee
rachel fitzwater: good luck
secret eddie: and I'm going to see if I could spell out my whole name
secret eddie: I will let you know how it goes
(fast-forward 90 seconds)
secret eddie: I had a few drops left
secret eddie: I could have even dotted an i or something
rachel fitzwater: that was quick but disappointing
secret eddie: what were you hoping for
rachel fitzwater: that u could spell your name and then mine
secret eddie: maybe if I used a smaller font
rachel fitzwater: i'll stay hopeful

why does whitesnake think that twisters were born to walk alone? you would think they meant to say 'drifter'. crazy whitesnake guys.

hi max

hey look, it's my non-gay male poodle!!

i'm your venus

now, internet, i love when the weather starts getting sunny and nice as much as the next guy, but why does it always have to drag the smell of ass along with it? in my mind, i picture spring weather depicted by linus, and ass is his tattered light blue blanket that he insists on dragging all over the world. the warmer wind starts blowing, and just rustles up all the stink you could possibly imagine. i think more people should welcome the new spring season with a nice big shower. bathe it up man. lever 2000 all your parts, then maybe repeat. maybe also wash all your clothing and make it a fun, regular activity for yourself. with this newfound clean streak, i won't have to smell ass anymore. luckily, it's not me. i don't smell like ass because every time i smell it, i check to make sure it's not me. if it were me, i would need to go get a massive refund from bath and body works. i'm just saying, let's start a shower revolution. eventually, we'll be so comfortable with bathing that we'll be showering together in groups regularly. you'll be in the parking lot at the grocery store loading your trunk with sourdough nibblers and you'll hear, 'hey matt, let's go play in the shower', and it will be like it's normal for you. don't disappoint me. get this campaign goin.

tina yothers = not dead. she was totally in the car behind me today in traffic. she drives a sunfire/cavalier that's like that burnt orange/rust color. why is she in ohio. huh.

step 3 - it's just you and me

i'm pretty much expecting houston to call looking for their $.65 that they didn't think i already gave them in the automated 'futuristic' toll booth yesterday. apparently it was asking for 5 quarters and i gave it my special blend of nickels, dimes, and quarters. needless to say, it got all pissed and started flashing $.65 at me in a totally mean way. i hung there for a minute and marc and i freaked out a little, and then we pressed the red button and the gate opened, so we gassed it. i mean seriously, you would've done the same thing. that toll booth deserved to die a slow nitrogenous death. what?

tex-ass

this place is killing me. i'm not in the mood to form real sentences and it can entirely be attributed to the 17 vodka tonics i drank last night. here's a list of all the random good and bad situations on this trip so far.

-marc's wife, she knows her way around the internet and saved our asses a lot so far
-best pad thai in houston = pang tai bistro. man i love u guys
-sherlock's pub, qaint little comfy chair/mahogany lined bar with not nearly enough old, drunk texas people all makin out with each other
-hey, national car rental, u can suck it. check for nearly dead batteries so i don't get effed when i'm tryin to get to class
-and make me take a cab to starbux to get the caff

houston report 1

houston sucks my ass. it's just like cleveland except... the same. cloudy and i still have to work while i'm here. also, wm training people, if you want customers to come train with you in houston, try bringing the airport an hour closer to the facilities and don't make me pay $75 in tolls to get there in the middle of the effing night. i hate u training manager guy. game off. the only thing that makes you all redeemed is the starbux that's 10 feet from my hotel. game totally back on.

001 java.net.SocketException

if you ever want to write a post and then have it eaten by blogger, don't read any further. otherwise, i have some tips.

1) always, never, forget to compose your posting in word or notepad first and then copy and paste the text into blogger.

that's it. just do that. if you can dream it, i can do it.

nerds vs dorks

i've come to believe that there are only two types out there; nerds and dorks. nerds cannot be dorks and dorks cannot be nerds and the two can never mix. if you are a nerd, you must stay within the confines. dorks double as geeks. they're the same exact thing. how i love duplicity. dorks always try to end up with nerds because they're really interesting to be around and keep it real, but nerds are pretty sharp and usually tunnel their way back out into the fresh air. don't try to put them in a corner, or in a tunnel, obviously. dorks are like new puppies, except not just for a few years, for...ever. they require a lot of energy and care, whereas nerds are pretty content just to eat honey nut cheerios for a while and then go sketch some things. dorks have to line their cabs with paper and then go design their own bookmarks. u smell what i'm cookin. keep it real and seriously, don't mix 'em.

i'll bear one precious scar

my family has a really strange phenomenon that graces us on really random intervals - the women 'dream' my deceased grandfather. he passed away in 1986 from lung cancer. he was 62 and as luck usually has it, no one had their fair share of time with him. this is gonna be a weird one, but if you know me even a little, you probably think i'm a witch anyway so this won't be so odd. the family gets together occasionally for holidays and stuff and while we're dining, someone might share how they recently 'dreamt him'. my sister, grandmother, and cousin are the usuals for his visits and he ALWAYS 'visits' in the same week. just to be extra clear, 3 or 4 of my women relatives will dream him in the same week and possibly even the same night and there's a big zero on the correlation scale. there's absolutely no explanation as to why this coincidence would happen on a regular basis like it does.

i've only dreamt him once since his death and it was pretty remarkable. i had pretty much just started grad school and was knee-deep in work stress. i wasn't in any sort of desperation, but i was definitely hurting and not at all sure what to do with my life. then one night in the midst of all this, there he was. in the dream, i was walking through an open house, which just so happened to be my aunt's first home in the early 80s. i slowly wandered through it checking every nook and cranny as one would normally do when perusing real estate. then i hit the dining room and there he was in the chair he always sat in. we didn't actually speak. i was somewhat alarmed-calm to see him there. he just sat with his arms folded and shook his head in proud approval. i woke up soon after and didn't really realize what had happened until a few days later at a family gathering. his behavior in my dream made me feel like i was actually headed down the right path. it was soothing to have his approval. turns out my grandmother had dreamt him that same night. crazy witches... anyways, the moral of the story is that i kinda need him right now. i need a little time in the dream world with him. i can't really explain why. i just do. the bat signal might very well be on but how the eff can you tell.

the new house is getting old

this is one of the last instances in which i'll refer to it... custom-built homes have too many details. there are 47 shades of white-ish paint and twice that when it comes to cabinet stain. not only is the house on my mind 24 hours a day, but a lot of people constantly ask how it's going. i recently dreamt that the house was chasing me, and then, i dreamt it again last night. my house was chasing me. this is not okay. word to those guys who don't want me to wheel kick them in the head; assume that it's going fine unless i show up with a large black eye where i punched myself. i know it sounds like i'm not having any fun, but i am. i just have a funny way of displaying it. designing a home is fun if you have way too much time on your hands. like i said before, i'm in love with it. ok, pretty much done with that subject for a few months.

on to current events...i think we're finally unloading the bus at the 'no more news to report' stop. in as far back as i can remember, there hasn't been any news. september 11th was the last newsworthy event we've had. i actually don't care about terri schiavo or michael jackson. i'm heartless. they did however remind me to get a living will and also to not molest children. thanx u guys. those were toughies. and as for martha, she didn't need to go to prison. rapists, murderers, and psychos get far lesser sentences for doing 14 times the damage she did. way to take a rich, powerful woman and put her behind bars. very helpful de-motivation for the impressionable minds out there.

i think society is heading for an imploding crash. maybe i'm just getting old for the first time, but i can't ever remember the media being so simultaneously harsh, incorrect, inconsequential, and 'censorous' for so long a period. they're now officially all really dumb effing b's, except for campbell brown, anne curry, and willard scott, my dream.newscasting.team. all the others are bloodsucking leeches that aren't capable of competant interviewing. i mean u, matt and katie. you two suck. dammit they piss me off so much. someone get katie a sense of compassion and a lifetime detention at the school for people who need to learn how to stop being blowhards for matt. kisses.

i love high quality motor oil, dancing, and you

is it possible for me to be in love with a plot of land? i think that this has become the case because i can't stop smiling, my favorite songs sound better, and i can't peel myself away from the blueprints. i'm pretty sure our song is 'rock wit' cha' by bobby brown.

DETAILS...i anxiously drove past my cute little 205 after work because erik with a k told me that i did in fact have 'tarp' on the premises. he wasn't joking. today when i drove past, not only was it breathtaking, but i found yards of tarp outlining the perimeter, and a few very large men with matching bulldozers and red trucks and heavy-duty, insulated overalls. i waved at them and they waved back. i plan to ensure that they're always in the best of spirits whilst they construct my home. i will bring them hot cocoa and sandwiches and periodically give them hugs...ok not so much, but these are very nice thoughts. i'd rather just do really inappropriate things with the builder at this point because he's sort of making this all possible. there. i said it. i really am a hor. i heart 205 (and apparently matt the builder).

spaldinggetyourfootofftheboat

i signed my life/savings to the title agent a little while ago and i love the house, but i still have major tightening in my chest due to the construction loan process being so fucking painful. every time i do something house related, it makes me feel like a giant ass. i don't know why. i have everything signed and delivered according to plan, i just feel so stupid at the mercy of gg homes and the bank. since i can't dwell on this, i'm thankful for several things. i'm healthy that i know of, i'm still employed (4 yrs tomorrow), i have a great family, my close friends are the best, i am actually building a beautiful house, i met my perfect man that i can't have, but someone that i could marry does really exist, i also met the other half of my brain, who without i don't know what i would do, def leppard has armageddon it, my niece is amazingly cute, i'm pretty smart, i'm funny sometimes, and i have an mba. so i guess i'm still doin alright over here. nickel knobs though. seriously. i don't care what extra 'debt' they bring. i need them bad. i get to go pick out my front door tomorrow and i'm a little drunk right now. it's fine.

nickel knobs

do not take big don with you to the brand new house store. she will ruin your first home experience and the life of the poor lady that has to deal with you and your little picky selections. the plans were totally fine but big don had to get all up on them and concern herself with the specific type of windows along the rear elevation. i see where she's comin from, but dammit to peter, give the poor custom builder a mini little break. this concluded part 1 of the new home 'selections' process. parts 2 and 3 are on deck. big don's staying home.

for those who cared about the outcome of the stairs, please either sit down or grab a handful of tissues. this news was more than a little devastating to me so i can't imagine what it will do to you. the sneaky builder people pretended to listen but actually ignored me when i asked about hardwood stairs with a rug runner up the center like 94 years ago when it mattered. TODAY, they're not able to do that since i didn't specify it 94 years ago when it mattered. oh, and that beautiful brick you thought you could have, you can't. we lied. same with those gorgeous cabinets. but i'm so over the stairs now. i'm getting those emeffing nickel knobs and hinges if it's the last mother effing thing i do. mark my words... i'm gonna go punch myself in the face.

things i'm done with

1 paper in general
2 instant messaging
3 gas prices - i need it regardless
4 continental airlines
7 mortgage paperwork
8 terrestrial radio
9 eto/etd feelings
10 air jordan's
11 nhl hockey
12 rescheduling wM training
12 counting

snowed all up

while i was 'stranded' at my own airport for 6 hours last night, this is what i saw and/or did...get your damn mind out of the shitter:

1 a lady with like 3 small dogs stuffed in one of those trendy roll-y luggage thingies. they looked comfy. like sardines comfy
2 elvis in a grey jogging suit and sunglasses, which appeared only after his men's room visit...
3 several $5 beers
4 the meanest bartendress in the entire world. if i wasn't stuck in your stupid airport buying your effing beer hor, you'd be out a job
5 iMarc
6 zero new planes coming to all of my gates
7 approx 98,000 cancellations of all my flights
8 an angry angry little man named 'blair' who at one point had what appeared to be a seizure directed at someone on the other end of his tiny silver cell phone
9 like 14 senior citizens housing wieners and fries
10 a vibrating family

obviously i need to get a camera phone so i can email this crazy shit into blogspot next time.

sad stats

man i love the butts but i only come into contact with approx. .5 really nice ones every day. it's poll time, so here's a list of options that might allow me more time with the 'asses'.

1 design mens' underclothing and force every boy on the soccer team at the local university to model them for me, privately
2 petition the state for an annual, mandatory, boxer briefs only day
3 convince the hugh grant to finally come over already
4 initiate daily 'manhandling' of the guys at work (and maybe get promoted)
5 start a small 'service' business where my staff consists solely of man candy with sweet asses
6 get addidas, new balance, and skechers to add 20lbs of weight to the shoes...for fashion reasons
7 get dockers, levis, and gap to add 20lbs of weight to the pants...for fashion reasons
8 finally apply chemistry and concoct a compound that will produce a sweet ass when mixed with beer and pringles, while i wear tortoise shell-rimmed glasses and my hair in a bunn

what to do. my problems are sooo difficult.

good call, picasso

humans in general are oddly shaped. i get bored in meetings, so sometimes i zone into something even less interesting, like the shapes of ears, noses, lips, and foreheads. if you can really pull these things apart visually, you'll notice that they're comprised of unusual crevasses and curves. i'm not even talking about the irregularly/over/undersized instances either. our species, while probably very acceptable to everyone on earth, probably looks pretty crazy and strange to all other species (that probably secretly roam around undetected...). human ears are especially ugly. the shape, the size, yuck.

i urge you to inspect the human features more closely next time you're bored and obviously don't remember this post. you'll see. you'll wish you looked more like your cute little toy poodle.

can i ass you a question?

today at work, some of my team ended up having a spontaneous meeting near mac's cube. we all pull up some chairs. i grab the chair of someone we'll call 'steve' who's out on fridays. it has a tall back, so i think i'm pretty clever. i'm sitting towards the edge of the chair like i always do, leaning to the left. all of a sudden, i get a wiff of ass. when you get a wiff of ass, you usually stir a bit as if someone just passed smelling salts under your nose and to take a quick inventory of whether it's you or not. i rule me out and it seems like nothing, so i forget about it. one minute later, ass again... but like, twice the ass and the unfortunate trend continues for the next 15 minutes. it was in that third minute that i realized how much showering 'steve' does. you would never expect this guy to stink so bad either. it's always the quiet ones that reek of ass.

dammit steve. take an effing shower.

buckle your swash and jolly your roger

i think it's time for a post that no one will find confusing.

the year was 1982, the movie idea, partially clothe kristy mcnichol and christopher atkins and instruct them to prance around as giddy, lovesick, pirates on sunny beaches in australia. we'll call it, 'the pirate movie'. i can't really explain my love affair with this bit of forgotten cinematic genius, but what i can do is start a grass roots campaign to get this shit goin again. rock operas and broadway spoofs are the missing ingredients in the new millennium. where can you find a good 'phantom of the paradise' or 'tommy' in 2005? nowhere you giant a-hole!! just show me to the present day rocky horror and i'll shut my damn mouth. or, you can shut your damn mouth. i gotta go.

stop the insanity

this guy i work with told me i'm going to need approximately $16,000 right from the gates when i move into my new home in august. you muse, exactly what size is this new digital flatscreen? ha. apparently, we're speaking of one lawn and several window treatments. god help me. i'll plant my own grass and smoke it proper before i spend 16 large on two semi-important, mostly mandatory items. holy eff james jessenfenton. you can bring it.

this one time...at band camp...

brace yourself for embarrassing story number 1. there aren't very many but i'll share whenever one surfaces.

it's late junior year of undergrad and the night of my sorority's senior send-off dinner. they were pissed because obviously they had to graduate in a month and leave all the co-ed drunken fun behind. they slink home at a reasonable time. the juniors on the other hand...they decide to lockdown in one of the rooms on our dorm floor and drink until the 40 year old ceiling starts to look like it's dripping on you. let me just say, mission accomplished. my butt was fondled quite a bit by people who i actually knew but thought were strangers because i had chugged so much wine. my future dr. hor was driven home by sherman who ended up parking sideways on a hill. as in, car semi-inverted...i know, very irresponsible. anyhoo...i don't remember how i got back to my room, or when, but i did since it was like 3 doors down from the party. my roommate's in there sleeping with her boyfriend at her side. i poked them with random objects to verify their status for a bit and then went on to bed. i wake up some time after, could've been 2 minutes, no idea... i'm also really really hot and pretty sure my new job is to drink water so i leave immediately in search of the bathroom, i think. i get back after a few minutes and find that my door is locked, probably since i didn't bother to unlock it when i left so abruptly to assume my new title. i also finally look down to find that i'm not wearing much. i have on a small t-shirt and nothing else. so i start knocking on the door for what seemed like 3 minutes when my faithful roomie opens the door and rescues me. i wake up the next morning to find my side of the room in complete disarray...clothes...are...everywhere, in bed with me, on book shelves, top of the tv, all mine. after breakfast, my roomies start telling me how they heard knocking for like 30 minutes, but didn't know what it was since it was so faint. if you're keeping score, that was naked me at the door. i thought i was actually knocking but must not have been capable of much since i was probably baffled as to why i wasn't wearing clothes.

those were the days. now i rarely find myself drunk and hardly ever feel inclined to drink more than 2. i should though. a nice drunk blog is well overdue.