Mediocre Things Come To Those Who Wait. Unless You're Adam.

Yes. I'll blog soon. Like... aside for this one. But right now, I open this page and I sort of fold in on myself and want to pour ALL my sadness out here. Which is cool, but also severely uncool. Plus, burying it to keep walking forward is only possible if I shove it niiiiice and deep. So if you want a sparkly monument to a great effort in fake-it-til-you-make-it happiness, just pay attention to my facebook. And sometimes Twitter.

There is a great light in my life though, and that's the fact that Adam H Newman is pretty much dating the girl known as Sasha (for most of her stories) in this blog. If there's one thing I love it's happiness. If there's two things, it's two people I love being happy together. And if there's one person on this big ol planet that truly deserves every drop of happiness life has to offer, it's Adam.

Thai Food Is Just Gross

I'm back in LA. I'm working on some long project with part of the Twilight cast. Robert Pattinson randomly walks up to me on this particular day because he felt like he could confide in me about his recent break up. I'm trying to avoid discussing it, so I start blathering on about needing to find an apartment and the area I'm looking in, price range, what I want yadda yadda, when my little sister Katie shows up across the soccer field we're shooting on. I completely stop what I'm doing. We run toward each other and meet in a giant hug. I ask her what she's doing there, and between her usual giddy, easily-excited laughter, she explains that her parents sent her out to see me for the week because the other two sisters are too busy to watch her. I don't even care about all the things wrong with this statement, I'm just ecstatic she's there in front of me.

At the same time, Rob walks up and asks me to lunch. Katie looks at him like she's a little annoyed that he interrupted our reunion. I explain to him that she just arrived and he starts to act all nervous Edward Cullenish and says she should come too. He glances at her and smiles like she should be uber grateful and then checks his Blackberry. I look down at her and she shrugs and says that's fine, she's hungry and grabs my hand.

We all walk to the parking lot as Rob continues to check his Blackberry the whole time. While never looking up, he says he's going to take us to a great place he knows where we won't be bothered with fans and stuff. Plus it goes by a few apartments he wants to suggest to me. I'm barely listening to him because I'm asking Katie how her flight was and if she was incredibly nervous on a plane alone since she's only 11 years old.

We get to the "great" lunch destination and it's in Koreatown. Robert jumps out of the car, never glancing up from that damn Blackberry, and walks away. I get Katie out, take her hand and ask her if she saw where he went and she leads me after him. All I can think about is getting to a table and ordering so I can talk to her. We walk into this "great" restaurant that appears to serve some sort of... Thai food. Rob has ordered for all of us and is sitting at a table. I just stare down at the food and then at him. He briefly looks up from his Blackberry and I ask him "Really? She's 11. She won't eat this". He looks all apologetic, but Katie explains that it's fine, she'll eat whatever. He launches a gorgeous smile at her and I look down to see if she's totally swooning and she's just beaming up at me as if he doesn't exist and she can not wait for me to sit down so she can crawl all over me like she usually does.

I take a seat and we just giggle and hug each other and she clings to me like she hasn't seen me in a hundred years. I'm counting every new little freckle on her nose and twirling her perfectly blond hair and looking into her backlit blue eyes. Rob starts to ask her about school and regular little girl stuff, but she can't even look over at him. She's completely mesmerized by me. I try to take my eyes off of her long enough to apologize to him for the lack of conversation, but I just can't. We keep on hugging and giggling and gazing at each other. Katie keeps her arms around my neck, but I finally tear my eyes away from hers long enough to acknowledge Rob and he's smiling and says "you look so happy". I say "I haven't seen her since July. I am beyond happy". I look back to Katie and I cover her face in kisses while she laughs. And then I wake up.

I lied there, dissecting the dream. I related the meaning of every part of it to my current life. And then I smiled, reached for my phone, texted Katie that I miss her and love her, and went back to sleep to try to see her, not Robert Pattinson, back in dreamland.

And You Know What Else?

I got completely shitbuckled last night, drove my friend home, then drove myself home, using only one eye. Then I placed a bunch of calls I barely remember, sent a bunch of texts I definitely don't remember (2 of which were to parents of my close friends), didn't drink any water, went into work today, drank a Coke and a gallon of water, failed at it hard, left at 11am, ate chili cheese fries, slept on and off all day. And when I wasn't sleeping, I watched some porn, paid my car payment, emailed with a prospective employer in Minneapolis confirming a meeting, and watched Top Gun.

BECAUSE I'M AWESOME AT LIFE!!!

Leonardo DeCrapio

Leonardo DiCaprio is fucking stupid.

And I'm really sick of people acting like he's a good actor. He's ok, he's not total horseshit, but he's no Philip Seymour Hoffman. He look and acts just like Leonardo DiCaprio in every single movie. I knew that wasn't Howard Hughes! I knew that wasn't really a rough Boston criminal/undercover cop! I knew he couldn't really solve crime and shit through dreams!

The only role Leonardo DiCaprio has been decent in is the one in What's Eating Gilbert Grape. He acted the shit out of that role. Other than that, he's boring as hell.

Not to mention he's a total modelizer. Lame.

There Has Never Been A Winter Not Followed By Spring

It's a funny thing.

There are those little moments in life. When you fool yourself. When, even as self-aware as you may be, you don't even realize something is happening until someone points it out to you. Even if that moment is fleeting, hang onto it. Because hope, in any situation, is the gift that truly keeps on giving. As fucking cheeseballesque as that sounds.

You find yourself lost in thoughts of "Man, that actually could happen". You hear a cute love song in a commercial and google the shit out of it. You clean up your house. You do a few sit ups and push ups. You notice things about your face. Like your brows are smoothed out and relaxed, that you don't have to use as much blush because color is coming back. You stand up a little straighter, you smile for no reason, you laugh a little easier....

Hang on to the feeling of those moments. I read in a scientific study that even the anticipation of laughter will relieve stress and sadness. So maybe the anticipation of.... anticipation can do the same? I don't know. I'm not a frickin scientist. I'm just a girl witnessing a little pink back in her chubby cheeks.

Gave Me A Genuine Smile

The new day dawns
And I am practicing my purpose once again
It is fresh and it is fruitful if I win
but if I lose, ooh, I don't know
I'll be tired but I will turn and I will go
Only guessing 'til I get there then I'll know
Ohh, I will know

And all the children walking home past the factories
Can see the light that's shining in my window
As I write this song to you
And all the cars running fast along the interstate
Can feel the love that radiates
Illuminating what I know is true

And all will be well
Even after all the promises you've broken to yourself
All will be well
You can ask me how but only time will tell

The winter's cold
But the snow still lightly settles on the trees
And a mess is still a moment I can seize until I know
That all will be well
Even though sometimes this is hard to tell
And the fight is just as frustrating as hell
All will be well

And all the children walking home past the factories
Can see the light that's shining in my window
As I write this song to you
And all the cars running fast along the interstate
Can feel the love that radiates
Illuminating what I know is true

And all will be well
Even after all the promises you've broken to yourself
All will be well
You can ask me how but only time will tell

You got to keep it up
And don't give up
And chase your dreams
And you will find
All in time

And all the children walking home past the factories
Can see the light that's shining in my window
As I write this song to you
And all the cars running fast along the interstate
Can feel the love that radiates
Illuminating what I know is true

And all will be well
Even after all the promises you've broken to yourself
All will be well
You can ask me how but only time will tell

All will be well
Even after all the promises you've broken to yourself
All will be well
You can ask me how but only time will tell
You can ask me how but only time will tell

Some Say The World Will End in Fire

Iiiiiiit's November! Time to nerd the fuck OUT on Twilight again. Breaking Dawn will be happening in 17 days from today at midnight. I will be purchasing my ticket tomorrow and from now until then, every minute that I'm not drunk, will be spent in anxiety about what to do after work that day, when do I get in line, do I let anyone go with me?

All that delicious anxiety is spiked with sadness..... the beginning of the end. Even the trailers say it that way.

That Mormon really needs to jump the writers block. asap. If the Hunger Games trilogy hadn't ended so anticlimactically, she would have lost me already.

Winner Winner Bacon Bone Dinner

In other news that's not wrist-slashingly depressing: Winnie comes tomorrow for the whole weekend. Oh sweet, fuzzy distraction!!!

Ghost Adam Is Always Right. And Less Fat-Faced Than Real Adam

So, Adam H. Newman calls me yesterday with a problem. It's not a problem, I guess, it's a situation concerning someone we both know possibly being upset. We also both know it's probably going to come up, and it's... touchy. He talks to me about how to react, what should he do, what would I do, etc. He falls silent for a minute, then says "So? How does that work? What would be best to say?" and for the first time I can remember.... I have nothing. Because in that moment. All that comes into my head is "lie". I don't want to say it out loud, because it sounds fucking crazy as it hisses inside, but as he's going on, several things have occurred to me. My brain has just completely changed with recent events in my life.

1. It has shut off thinking of either of their feelings. I'm only thinking about how he best navigates the situation to get what he wants. Fuck the future, what's happening in that moment. You want that? Take it. 2. Don't worry about who it hurts or me or what is said because you could think you're handling it with the utmost care, and they could see it incredibly different, punch your face, and you'll wish you would have just lied your way out to save (your face) everyone the trouble. 3. If I had just kept lying about my life situation by omission, a few people would be much happier right now. 4. A switch has flipped and I am now sweating with anger.

He goes on about how he is going to say this and that because it's a version of the actual truth and it's exactly what would have happened if a long time ago blah blah blah, and what he's saying makes a lot of sense and as always, he's concerned about feelings getting hurt when they don't need to be. But I just say "Yeah. I have no idea anymore. Handle it however you want, be kind, but if they freak, blame it on me." He goes on some more about how he knew this would happen to me and how I think, yep, this happens in life yadda yadda yadda but I'm not even listening anymore. I have become almost blind with rage. Finally! I think. What a relief! This is great, a breakthrough! My skin is actually hot to the touch!

I hang up, finish pacing the kitchen and return to my desk. I use the rest of my lunch sorting my Outlook and copy/pasting old emails together into one large email. Snippets here, entire emails there, it's a real bloodbath in several different fonts. "This is what everyone really thinks of everyone else. This is what people do to other people. This is what nobody says to anyone's face. But it all floods into and from my Outlook. Sometimes, you gotta be cruel to be kind. This is what hurt and betrayal can really look like" I think to myself as I'm editing spacing. I'm so crazy and out-of-body that I'm actually humming to the radio as I click in my To: box and start adding names. I sit back. And just as I move my mouse to click send, I hear Adam's voice boom into my head.

"Really?? Really." I can see him, clear as if he's standing there, neck all pulled in, taken aback, over the side of my cubicle, head slightly tilted, lowering his voice in 1 of his 2 commanding tones. "This is who you are now? This will make you stop hurting? This will make everyone stop hurting? You feel good about that? Like a champ? A real peace officer?" Ugh. I can so hear him saying all of these things and more. The last sentence I hear is "Yes. You are clearly being misunderstood. By a few different people. But that sends a very, very clear message. And it's not one you would ever want to send" And imaginary Adam is right. He's like a pudgier ghost Edward Cullen from New Moon. And my arm relaxes away from my mouse. I sigh in resignation that I'm a pussy that didn't even use her one awesome hour of blinding rage to go bananas in any cool way. And I start to scroll down the email. And I start to giggle. Because some of it is just plain hilarious. Some of it is just awful, but that makes it even more hilarious. Because it's just people. It's the fray of family and friends. And I like family. And I like friends. And I like people in general. And I wouldn't like myself if I did something like hit send. But I saved to drafts just to give myself a little reminder that my anger came, and it wasn't the delicious, crispy Bloomin' Onion I thought it would be. And subconscious Adam does not approve.

So I sit. And I give another sigh. Because I want to believe there is still some goodness underneath all this. But it's still a real bummer. Because, as a person that is normally composed of happiness, hope, words and action all moving together, about the saddest thing you can realize is that the only thing left to do.... is absolutely nothing.

Inner Dialogue for Pussies 101

Sit Indian style. Is that derogatory? I don't think so. Stop thinking. Straighten your back. Neck relaxed, but... stretched? Seems weird, but ok, feels ok. Palms up, touch a few fingers together, close eyes. In through the nose, out through the mouth. No. That feels like being in the hospital. Mouth closed. Nose only. I think I'm supposed to focus on the nose, in fact. I'm breathing through my nose. It feels ok. My leg itches. I wonder if this eye shadow is toxic. Why does my face still look tan? Stop. Your eyes are pretty, think good stuff. Bliss facial care. Shit, I can't afford that, why do I want to think about it? I need to vacuum. I need to clean the kitchen. My fish need new water. Stop. Fish. I love those fish. Candles. There's apple cider in the fridge. That carmel apple that Judy gave me was delish. Twilight is on FX tonight. No *head shake* don't think about that. simple, good stuff. Try again. Winnie. Winnie's nose. Winnie's paws. Winnie's turkey begging bark. Winnie the first drive home. Taking Winnie for drives and walks this weekend. *small smile* Leaves blowing across the grass. My poncho was so cute all day. My new, totally perfect boots. No, no, this is dumb shit, don't think of material stuff. *head shake* Adam. Adam imitating me. Adam cocking his head to the side and rubbing his nose. Adam imitating me imitating my mom. Adam's mom saying "one hitter". *smile* Adam's mom's laugh. Adam's mom's hugs. Adam's mom making cornucopias. *giggle*My mom. My mom talking to her cat. Mom making Chex mix. Mom's drunk laugh. *smile* Finley. Finley running through the snow. First snow. Sweaters. Cuddle blankets. Babies in blankets...*head shake* no no no no no no. Kleenex. Just stand up. Go get one. Don't lie down. Ugh, what was that, 5 minutes? Meditation really is for assholes.

October 14

Today was once the worst day of my whole life. It's the anniversary of when my Grandmother passed away. Every year, this day comes up and it's so hard to remember the anxiety I felt waiting to hear she had come out of surgery ok. Or to feel the same tenseness in my shoulders I had all day that day. I will never not be sad on this day, and I will never stop missing her, but something else great happened on this day.

Adam H Newman got a baby sister. And she was married last weekend. She is on her honeymoon. And she is one of the nicest, most beautiful, most pure people I have ever encountered. I used to get a little sad that her birthday was on this day because I knew that I would always be reminded of it. It would never come and go without me noticing. But, now I think of what a happy day that is for their family. And what it must have been like for Adam's mom, on this day, to hold a baby girl after giving birth to 3 lame boys. (kidding) And I think about all the joy she has brought to the lives around her. And her funny little walk, and her huge eyes, her loud laugh, how sincere she is in everything she does.

And its good to be reminded that I had a Grandmother that I loved so much it broke my heart to lose her. And I think about all the amazing things she did for me. And how she would play cards with me. And make me breakfast. And put encouraging post it notes in my lunch all the time. Or just ones that told me she loved me. How she would sneak up and scare the shit out of me. The smell of her perfume. The red hair I have because of her. And I'm reminded to tell my Mom I love her. And show love and affection to the people around me. To laugh and play and joke just like she did. To dance when I'm cooking. To use my imagination like she encouraged. To forgive others and myself. To talk to and hug kids because they need it. To think about each day when it's over and find the joy.

I have a lot to be joyful for.

iWisdom

"Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary." - Steve Jobs

Once The Waterworks Start.... Pray for A Live Wire.

So.....

When I was the person at work who continuously had the highest transaction count, and Skoal Can told me "slow down dude, the faster you go, the more work, the higher the expectations" and I was like "eh... no way, it will slow down eventually".... I should have listened to that lesbian genius.

Today, as I am just absolutely scrambling to get through my rail draft, our temp boss from corporate slinks up to my cubicle to say "your transaction count from last week was ridiculously high, you're awesome, I mean, I told you you could do it." and I'm all "yeah, is that good? Ok, well, I'm going to keep voucher matching, did you need something else?" without ever looking up at her. She says "Nope, just wanted to tell you how you did and it was super great. We'll decide who gets what freight accounts permanently figured out this week some time". Yeah, ok. Whatever. I have a draft due tomorrow that I just started. Scram.

"This week some time" turned out to be at exactly 3:30 according to the meeting notification in my Outlook. She explained to us that she wasn't going to show the 3 of us what accounts we got because she didn't think that was fair (or want us to lose our shit) but we would get a list anyway so we know how to divide the mail up. When my list was handed to me, I just... stared. Partly because the antibiotics I'm on for my stress rash also cause me to be dizzy and light-headed, but also because I still have both huge rail accounts. And one from Canada. AND a list of 20 trucking accounts. Including the 2nd biggest one. As my eyes welled up with tears, she was busy explaining how I should finish the draft I'm on, then divide it up blah blah and I'm thinking "divide what up? I still have the entire draft. Do you think you're tricking me? I have all the rail, you just also piled 20 trucking accounts on top of it". I sort of zoned out and then I heard her say "who has this, this and this trucking?" while holding up her pile of unanswered invoices. I looked down at my list and raised my hand. So I was handed a stack before I ever left her office. The other 2 ladies were literally laughing. It was 4pm, I leave at 5pm, I wasn't done matching a huge draft of rail cars due end of day tomorrow, and within 10 minutes, there was a stack a foot high of fed ex and manila envelopes next to me with invoices. All checks due to audit on Monday by 3pm.

I got up, went to the bathroom and LET IT RIP. Just cried for about 2 minutes straight while holding cold wet paper towel to my face so it my eyes didn't get red. I cried because she's fucking high thinking that's realistic for me to get through (even though I'm basically a fucking wizard with invoicing) in a week. I cried because I miss my friends. I cried because I was kind of hungry. I cried because I didn't like how my hair looked. I cried because I can't decide what dress to wear to the rehearsal dinner. I cried because I wonder what that woodchuck in that big yard does when he runs out of apples and will he be cold this winter. I cried because I want to see my Mom. I cried because I wish my mix CD didn't skip during Halo by Beyonce. I cried because I don't like having a rash OR being on meds for a rash. I cried because I don't want to go back to that cubicle and look up and realize I've worked in it for 15 years.

Then I stopped. Patted my eyes. Made sure I didn't look messy. Went back to my desk. Took a drink of water. Texted like 3 people about how much I fucking hate work. And voucher matched some more invoices. Next time I saw Corporate Temp, I was squishing as much of that stack in a drawer as possible. Not today, mail. Maybe not tomorrow either!

I'm really trying to get a grip. In the middle of the account meeting, one of the ladies randomly announced that some little kid was climbing a tree last weekend in Saginaw and got electrocuted. When she said that, we all just stared at her. I had several thoughts, but I narrowed it down to "shit, guess it could be worse" and "fuck. lucky kid".

What The Hell Are You Looking At, Check Out Girl?

I am miserable. I mean I am fuh huh huh huuuuuuucking miserable. I wake up every morning hoping for 3 things. 1. An inbox full of answered resumes and job offers. 2. The itching to stop. 3. The anger stage of grief to have finally arrived.

3 is odd as I have spent a lot of life coaching myself to not feel anger for fear I inherited the flaw of hanging on to it too long and letting it consume me. I watched my Mom carry that shit around like an ugly Louis Vuitton full of bricks for years. No thanks. I don't say things I don't mean. I don't say things I can never take back. I don't say things to purposely hurt someone. I think it's all very unhealthy and it never makes me feel good. In fact, it makes me feel like shit when I'm mean. And my rule of thumb in most situations is I'd rather eat shit than feel like it. Put a little lemon and honey on there and it's delicious.

But I find myself wishing it would come. I feel like anger would feel a lot better than whatever this feeling is. Like, I want to wake up and just lunge for a hammer and start plunging it into pictures and walls. When roomie gets up all "what the fuck!?" I can be like "I'm here! Anger stage of grief, dude!" and he'll brighten with "Awesome, let me go get the blow torch and some beers!". But nope. No. Uh uh. Nope. I'm not there. I'm still bouncing around in all mixture of all the others, slinking around my house with a cocktail and Bruno Mars blasting, looking at light patterns on the wall like a crazy person.

It would be so unbelievably rad to just start calling people up and telling them off, exposing their weaknesses, throwing them and everyone they know under every bus available in the area. Just a real mean spree. Like the movie Natural Born Killers, but I act alone and instead of all the death it's just saying rude shit and holding up mirrors of hypocrisy and truth to their faces. If it were in person, I'd steal whatever food or drink they had in their hand, take a bite or sip, and hand it back to them. Then wipe my mouth with the back of my forearm reeeeal slow. They'd just stand there, mouth open, a single tear running down their cheek, wondering what they ever knew about life before this moment.

And see? I can't even stay angry in a blog. I end up making jokes. So.... that stage isn't coming any time soon. Half of them won't ever arrive. I'll just stay miserably positive, steadfast, hopeful and maintain a bitchin amount of just the right buzz as I want to keep my level of alcoholism at "functioning". In fact, it's time to go buy a new 24 pack and 2 bottles of red. I've emptied this house. But I'm going to tan first because nobody likes a pale drunk.

Maybe I'll leave my sunglasses on and scowl at the check out girl. Just for shits and gigs.

Bena-Drill Me

I have hives. They're red, they're itchy, and there may not be enough Gold Bond powder to calm them. Thank Goodness my friend is basically a doctor. (Physicians Assistant, but who cares, she drives a brand new 4 door Jeep Wrangler)

I am sitting on my couch, taking a little time out of my day to try to determine their possible cause. Here's what I came up with.

1. Extreme stress.

2. Intense sadness.

3. Lack of Starbucks drive thrus in my area.

4. Writing cover letters.

5. The bitch I work with emailing me to ask if I could make her out a Fed Ex envelope.

6. Pretty much a diet of red wine, beer, popcorn and swiss cheese of some sort.

7. Anxiety about The League finally starting.

8. Excitement for Adam's sisters wedding.

9. Hopelessness over not being able to find cute boots for fall/winter except at J Crew.

10. Not being able to afford shoes from J Crew. Those prices are fucking ridiculous.

11. The realization that the woodchucks are going to ground soon for months.

12. Foot cramps.

13. Lack of babies.

14. I'm allergic to Winnie.

15. My flesh is eating itself to teach me yet another lesson in overcoming adversity?

Or AIDS.

I Hope He Loses His Fantasy Match Ups Today Even Though He's Currently Ahead By 30 pts.

Adam H. Newman knew I was bound to Ohio this weekend for a friend's birthday when I was originally planning to run away to Michigan like I have done so often lately. Then he texted me some cryptic, tricky shit on Saturday that lead me to check my facebook and see him tag himself at a bar 2 blocks away from me. Pretty much the best surprise ever. Until that tag came in the 2 friends I was with at the time kept saying "dooon't get excited, he may not be there, he may just be trying to make you smile". But he was there all right! He had been planning it since Thursday. And he brought me my bridesmaid dress from his mother's house.

Then we went to the birthday dinner, and when the service was TERRIBLE at the very expensive restaurant where we were dining, enough to heavily disappoint the birthday girl, he dumped what was left of his red wine all up and down the tablecloth while making a fart noise. Because nobody puts baby in a corner when she says her caesar salad tastes a little to anchovy-y. He also paid for my swordfish and let me punch him in the shoulder about 50 times during the night.

Then he decided to stay on Sunday night as well as my house, after a week of being full, is finally empty besides me. We had a good day of football, eating, shopping, more football, more eating, wine, ice cream and now LOTR Return of the King. He was being such a super Pal allllll weekend that I decided to look at a song he had suggested I check out. It's called Nicest Thing by Kate Nash.

THAT FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!

The Daddy Mack Will Make You....

There are many methods of calming that people use when they are hurt/angry/confused about a situation in their lives. I have dabbled in many of these myself. Drinking (awesome if it's only beer and wine and you're in bed by 11 on a school night), sports/working out (awesome, because you also sculpt your shit and/or get to hit people while working out the toxins of anger and stress), venting to friends (awesome/lame, because you exhaust yourself and others, but you might also get great advice). I have even come extremely close to throwing a newly purchased Big Mac out a car window as Adam H. Newman and I decided there may be nothing funnier than that happening. (I'm glad I didn't, that Big Mac was artfully crafted and delicious) But.... there is one thing you can do that never fails to solve some problems, even if temporarily.

Jump up and down on the bed.

Yes. It's childish. It's also humbling, exhausting, embarrassing, exhilarating, funny, ridiculous and slightly scary as I am just now, finally capable of hitting my head on the ceiling. But I guarantee, the least it will do is make you smile. Even if just at your own hopeless stupidity.

Next time you're at the end of your rope, hold on. But jump rope over your bed. Unless you break a weak ass ankle, you won't regret it.

Guess "The Rodman" Is Good For Something Other Than Torture

I'm sitting at some sort of counter/bar in a shopping center with a girl with black hair. Behind us, a clearly intoxicated, passed out guy is literally inside what I can only describe as a large toilet. Every once in a while, we'll turn around because he'll dry heave and we'll be disgusted.

After a bit, I hear water sloshing and the black haired girl say "shit, there he goes" as the guy folds himself down inside the water basin and thrashes until he's completely lodged, head about 4 inches under water. We both jump up, but he's completely jammed down in there. The girl just runs out of the room saying she's going to get help. As I reach into the basin to try to grab some part of him to pull him out, his eyes are open and I see him start to gulp and choke down water. His eyes close, I scream "fuck!" and brace myself against the side to try to jiggle him loose. Nothing. I decide I have to slide him out. I grab the only thing I can think of, his ears, and put my foot on his knee and slide. This works, but I know now how badly this guy is out because being lifted by your ears is one of the most painful things ever. ( I know this because my cousins used it as punishment when we were little and referred to is as "The Rodman". )

I quickly think it's best to lug this asshole out into the shopping center where there are more people so I can get some help. As I'm pulling him, I jam my knee into his back a few times hoping to cause him to cough up some of the water, but nothing. As I lie him down, I scream my roommates name as loud as I can (as he's apparently shopping there) and I can hear him running toward me. I figure if I can get compressions started, even though my Roomie's lungs are going to be full of smoke and whiskey, he's going to put twice as much air into this guy's lungs as I can with one breath. But... just as he runs up, I realize that nobody even cares that there is a soaking wet, clearly unconscious man lying on the ground, not even my Roommate. They are all looking down like "fuck that drunk asshole, he deserves to drown in a bowl of his own misery". I only give this a split second of thought because I take the other part of that second to decide on either long, deep compressions or short bursts. I decide quick ones, I start low, hoping to stimulate his lungs, but maybe push out some water as well. I start counting out loud, 1-2-3-4-5.. and up to 10. At about 6, I look up and tell Roomie to suck in the biggest breath he can, but he's just looking down frozen, so I start inhaling. I don't yell, I don't ask anyone else for help, I know I have to go full steam ahead because my Dad always said panic leads to hesitation and someone needs every second you've got.

When I tilt the guy's head back and breath as much as I can get down into him, it felt like when you would blow in your straw to make bubbles as a kid, but on a larger scale. I can actually hear it gurgling. That's how full of water the guy is. As soon as I go for a second round of compressions, I start slowly, deeply breathing in again. People are shopping around me, some stop to look, but keep moving, Roommate stands there motionless. I reach ten and suck in enough where I feel dizzy, open his mouth, squeeze his nose shut, and pray this bastard throws up in my mouth this time. I squeeze my eyes shut, breath out into him and as I'm getting the last bit out, I feel him jolt a little and my eyes shoot to his and I see him squeezing them shut. I come up for more air and breathe a little more down into him and I can feel him start to gag. Just as he starts to convulse a little, and I'm rolling him on his side, I'm watching for all the water to come splashing out, his eyes snap open, he draws in to expel..... and I wake up. I am wide awake. Eyes open. But I am not out of breath. I am perfectly still breathing deeply and evenly.

All I can think at that moment is.... "did I even check his pulse? Should I have been doing compressions on someone if they had a pulse? I can't remember. Does that work for his lungs too or just for a heartbeat? Should I have been using slower compressions? Did hitting his back fill his lungs more? Would he have breathed sooner if I hadn't done that? Shit, I need to take a class, I'm going to be the reason someone fucking dies if this really happens." My father was a fireman and CPR instructor for years and now, all I can think about, is how disappointed he would be if he knew I was lying awake at 3:54 am not knowing these things.

The next thing I think is "Damn.... I wonder if that guy has any brain damage. And what did he have to drink?"

It's Not Always Sunny In Perrysburg

I got delux chili cheddar fries from Del Taco last night.

I tried on cute heels and jeans all day.

I got fall scented Bath and Body Works candles on sale.

I got a pumpkin spiced frap.

I watched a hilarious episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

I'm going to be covered in puppies in a little bit.

I can't wait to feel happy again instead of pretending to feel happy.

Teenage Wasteland?

Now you can smoke a GD joint on the CW? What the actual hell? First ABC Family makes it rad to chuck your V card and sleaze it up with murderers on Pretty Little Liars, and now teenage drinking and tightly rolled grass are good to go on Vampire Diaries. Is this the new teenage reality?

Jeez, all I got in high school was Cosby Show re-runs. A black male gynecologist married to a black female lawyer? Now THAT'S unrealistic.

Uber Encouraging

I put on a wife beater today for the first time in like, 2 years. So... there was about 3 whole minutes where I was distracted enough to not be bummed the fuck out.

I also found a coupon for fall scents from Bath & Body Works. So there was another 30 seconds.

MSD is apparently forcing me to eat lasagna and catch up on HBO shows tonight. So... sky's the limit!

All Aboard The Snake Dance To Sanity

There is nothing like spending all day in a beer tent watching an endless parade of people you knew as a child, people you knew in high school, people you dated in high school, people you try to deny you dated after high school. It's an eye-opening (and narrowing) experience.

It's also so weird to smile and talk and say hi when inside you want to just lie down in the grass, stare up and beg someone to pour a drink in your mouth every so often. But, then you suck it up and buy more tickets and another beer so people don't start to hug you and shit. It's a creepy medium. To be having a great time, then you go to tell a story about someone and sort of freeze... not knowing if they're in your life anymore. Then you remember you maybe shouldn't be having a good time. Then you think that all you really have right now is the idea of having a good time. Then you float somewhere between "oh well, fuck it." and "I can't wait one more second until this is resolved because half the shit and people I care about just disappeared like they were covered in an avalanche of insanity".

Then you stand there spiraling down, down, down, wondering if anyone else even cares or worries about the same things as you. Then you look up as your ex-boyfriend slams his hand on the table and he's walking with a cane because a few months ago he fell and broke like, umpteen bones and almost died. Then you wonder if it was karma. Then you take the high-speed train toFearville because you wonder if it was karma, is something even worse coming for you? (fuck!) Then you realize YOU are the one that is now swimming in a nice, cool pond of insanity. Without floaties.

Then you see someone who babysat you. And they tell you they are so happy to see you and that they are so glad you are healthy. You hug them. And then you remember sitting in that hospital bed. Day after day after day and not knowing when you were leaving, what you would be like when you left, if you would leave. And you turn and see a table full of people laughing. One's parents refused to accept she was gay for years. One had to tell her fiance that she loved that she wasn't going to marry him. One recently broke up with her boyfriend, lost her mother as a little girl and now has a sick father. There's the sick father. There with his current wife and they are getting up to get more beers laughing at all of us. Then there's your best friend. Who you dated, who you cheated on, who took you back, then you rebelled against, then broke up with and is still your best friend. Handing you money because your home town ATM's are refusing your good Ohio card.

Then next thing you know you're stealing bites of corn dogs. Your searching every pocket you ever thought of having for more beer tickets. You are organizing a transport called a Snake Dance to a bar about 40 feet away. Your best friend leads said Snake Dance, pulling you, a farmer, 2 teachers, a nurse, and a husband and wife insurance team down main street, through Carnie booths and a dirt parking lot (off the path) toward the bar because "why just walk?". You are winded and laughing. You decide "this bar is for babies" and is really just too crowded, so you and your lesbian friends head back to their farm. You put on chore boots, you wander around, head pointed at the sky, marveling that you can actually see stars. You fall asleep covered in a Jack Russell Terrier while a Kenny Rogers documentary plays in the background. You wake up to a mini-horse loose in the yard. You put your chore boots back on while still in your sun dress from yesterday, wander out and make friends with the 3-legged dog that usually wants to bite everyone. You help pick veggies out of 2 gardens. While those veggies are being cooked for your breakfast, you feed chickens and watch butterflies. You eat said breakfast of all things from the farm where you just slept. You cruise around in a truck in the sunshine all day long looking at fields and waving at lake-dwellers.

You have to head back to Ohio at some point. You say your good byes and thank yous and you get on the toll road. You are going along at the normal pace, erasing voicemails. You decide you make your usual long drive calls to your favorites, and you are suddenly back at the beginning of this circle. But there is no beer tent. There is no table of wonderful people. There is no Snake Dance. (which is good because my arms hurt) There is just the road ahead to home where the basement pump has leaked and the carpet has filled with water.

Man, these blogs are getting pretty fucked up. I need to "Get busy livin' or get busy dyin'" because walking the line between is FOR BABIES.

Forrest Benjamin Gump Button

I sometimes wonder what life would have been like if I had never gotten sick.

What if I had gone on, burly as all get along, outgoing, a chubby little smiling strawberry blond bully. My doctors figure I would've been about 5'8" roughly. Would I have ever learned to sit still? To make due with what I have? Would I have studied as hard or read as much? If I looked different, would I have been as smart? Would I have developed the same sense of humor? If I had my health from the beginning, would I take it for granted now? Would I ever force myself to get up and live even when tired and in pain or would I just sit and complain about it? Would I have spent as much time with my Grandparents? Would my sister have not felt so isolated?

I sometimes wonder what life would be like had my parents stayed together.

Would they be happy together now? Would they fake being happy together now? Would they still argue or would they be resigned? Would they tell the truth or would they put on show for me? Would I know the difference? Would my sister not have rebelled so much? Would I have learned about the good and bad and risks of relationships? Would they have stayed faithful? Would my Dad have kept his mustache? Would my Mom have let her hair go grey? Would they have given me any room to make mistakes? Would they have praised me for my accolades more? Would they be one or separate people living in the same house? Would I have been less sick? Would I have prayed as much?

I sometimes wonder what life would be like if Adam H Newman wouldn't have come into it.

Would I have kept dying my hair blond? Would I have gotten more tattoos? Would I have stayed in that dark place after losing my Grandma? Would I have gone even darker? Would I have learned how to show people respect in relationships? Would I have ever tried seafood again? Would I have ever watched a Lord of the Rings movie? Would I know it's ok to feel pain and feel happiness too? Would I have ever taken responsibility for things? Would I have ever known how to give or receive unconditional love? Would I have seen another person kill a seagull with a rock? Would I have had faith in people? Would I have cared about self-reflection or self-improvement? Would I have ever learned to truly not judge a book by it's cover? Or it's library? Would I have ever moved away from Michigan?

I sometimes wonder what life would be like if I had never moved to California.

Would I have ever met a Jew? Would I have ever seen the desert at sunrise? The Pacific at sunset? Would I have finished college? Would I be a teacher now? Would I have ever crossed paths with anyone I know from there now? Would I still think there was a Wizard behind the curtain? Would I want there to be? Would I have ever missed Adam or called him up? Would I be married? Would I have kids? Would I feel like there was something missing? Would I have learned to let go of things I can't change? Would I have learned a work ethic? Would I have an open mind? Would I appreciate differences? Would I find beauty in the same things?

Would I change any of it if I could? No. We are all SO small and insignificant. Because the real answer for me to any "what if" is to have and consider and use what I gained from all of this. Perspective. I'm not getting off this planet alive. And there is no way to know how long I get to stay. So, while I'm here, it's important to take care of myself. To cherish my health. To support and joke with my Mom. To pet her many cats and puppies. To talk to my Dad at least once out of the 5 times a week he calls. To tell him to tell my stepmother and siblings hi. To laugh with Adam as much as I can. Thank God for him every day. Call him a nerd. To give and receive unconditional love even when it's hard. To forgive and move forward. To keep in touch with my LA peeps. To smile when I think of the desert and the ocean. To name drop. To think about or appreciate how something was shot and the work it took to make it come to life. To smile at strangers. To not badmouth the little guy, he could be your boss very soon. To know I'm always either going to be a winner or a loser, but if I don't play a hand at all, I'm going to feel like a coward.

To look at the big picture. And appreciate the beauty in absolutely everything. Even the fact that the hair on my toes right now is disturbingly long. Oh well, at least I have toes, right?

The Animal Happening

This morning I was awakened by The Baby Muffin calling my phone. Her Mom seems to think this was because I was the last person she called yesterday, but this is not the first time this has happened. It's because she can't wait to talk to me and see me. I just know it.

Anyhoo, after said phone wake up, I decided to get with it and join the living so I could Skype with that Muffin. When I come out to the kitchen to feed my fish, thye are both chillin on the rocks behind their plant. Normal. But, when I sprinkled their breakfast flakes into the bowl, the big one (Missy) did not move at all. And normally that greedy bitch is up there with "dude, I was STARVING eyes at me" immediately. The small one (Sam) looked at me with quiet anxiety. This wasn't good.

I tapped on the bowl by Missy, which I heard you're not supposed to do, but she looked pretty spaced out. She didn't move at first. Then I did that again and she shot around the bowl like a maniac banging into the rocks then the glass and finally, lodging herself into the middle of the plant where she again went totally still except for breathing. I started to panic a little at this point.

I moved the plant and dipped their net in in an attempt to get her to swim away from her plastic fortress and eat. She did swim out, but she did the crazy shoot around thing again and returned to her original still self behind the plant on the rocks. I decided she was either playing games with me or was dying a violent mental death so I put a few more flakes of food in and began to Skype with Muffin, who after careful consideration, I had deemed more important than the fish at this moment. Maybe the fish just wanted some more sleep and I was making her furious.

*Aside: My friend just recently had a fish die in Michigan and in my head, I was totally thinking "Holy shit, what if this is like that movie The Happening, but for animals? And my fish is about to start swimming backward and just shred itself on that plastic plant until it's dead as shit!?"

About 10 minutes later while Skyping, I glance over, and this asshole fish is acting totally normal and swimming around and gobbling food off the top of the water or anywhere else it thinks a flake may be. Missy really gave me, and Sam who would not leave it's side while it was acting all stroked out, a real scare. This is just not the kind of thing I need after the strong emotions of the So You Think You Can Dance finale!

In other news: I clearly need to get a grip.

Question of the Day

Whoever invented the Shake Weight was at least kind of joking, right?

Shiiiiiiiiit, Dudes.

Sooo....

I'm at about a Defcon 9 on the panic scale right now.

I have realized that spending one more minute at my current job inches me ever so close to madness/homicide/cankles.

I have realized there is suddenly a possibility that I could get back into the world of advertising or production while still living in the Midwest, but NOT in Ohio.

I have realized through the thumbnails on their website that sparked the deep yearning in my soul, I want to work for a certain agency.

I have realized that I have been out of the creative game for wa-hay-hay-hay too long.

I have realized that I am now staring at a blank word document damn near tearing up because I have also been out of the cover letter game too long. Not to mention the last one I wrote awarded me my current Hellish job conditions, so was that game ever as smooooove as I thought?

I have realized that I'm most likely going to have to start at the bottom all over again. Which I'm ok with. Fuck, I'm ok with forfeiting a paycheck for a spell as long as I like going to work every day.

I have realized there is a world within the Midwest that WILL award you for your creativity instead of making you switch cubicles because you finally made a friend at work and your supervisor saw you talking to her so you may not make your 28 transactions per hour quota.

I have realized I am spending 8 hours a day with my face back and forth between a stack of freight bills and a computer screen, for fucking crumbs, with shitty benies, and just plugging away for a shorter, chubbier, more passive aggressive version of (insert most hated woman in America here).

I have realized I want out. Out real bad. Even if I don't ever even get to visit the front door of the dream agency. Even if I leave this place to work at another terrible place. Even if I have to army crawl over a bunch of zombies that are lying down, but not quite dead... I'm getting out.

Now if I could just write a cover letter instead of a blog...

Lick Whatever You Want!!

www.itgetsbetter.org/

If you visit this link and it's not already there, please look up the speech of Joel Burns. It's in the Popular section. Very, very moving.

I'm not one to take a political stance on a blog where I discuss woodchucks and jacking myself off, but the issue of gay rights is very important to me. And really, it's just the issue of being young or growing up and being able to be exactly who you fucking are.

If you're a racist? Well, welcome to America! You can express that here and even vote for people who share your views. Congrats! If you hate racists? Guess what, you're welcome too!! And again, you are free to tell the racists to go fuck themselves and attempt to elect people that support civil rights.

If you're a drunken, child-molesting, playground-meth-dealing, puppy-kicking fuck bag? You can walk into an office in Vegas, plunk down a cool hundy, and be married to your toothless wonder shit-eating fuck bag lover in a jiffy. And guess what? My taxes will probably help pay for the cost of your living in some way!

If you're a hard working, honest, caring, loving, helpful woman and you want to marry the vagina you dig licking on the reg? Fuuuuuck that! You have a select few places to go in this country if you would like your union to be considered legal and be awarded the same rights as the Boones-chugging winners above.

It's just unbelievable to me. And honestly, if you don't believe in or disagree with homosexualityness, (its a word) then that's your right as well and I understand. But, what is so sad to me, is that in a country where you are told you can be anything, some kids or grown ups are so afraid to be what they have always known, that they feel suicide is their only relief. Relief from not only feeling trapped in a prison of their own self-awareness, but being bullied or ridiculed by those around them.

I know it's not the same thing, but to me it is. I grew up with Crohn's Disease. From 7 on, I was always different, always sick, always smaller, needed surgeries, had a tube hanging out of my belly that plugged into a machine, I mean the fucking works. An absolute nightmare for any adolescent really. But, not for ONE SECOND did I ever feel like I had to hide that. It was who I was, it was the hand God dealt me, my family and friends supported me, dudes still wanted my vagina, and I was just proud I kept on moving and smiling. And it's something I will have my whole life on and off. And I can't imagine the agony I would feel if students at my school, my coworkers, boyfriends or the people I had to deal with on a daily basis over life harassed me for it. I mean, Adam H Newman had a BIG problem with the farting, but I probably could have taken that to another room, you know?

To me, living with Crohn's is just who I am and what I do. It's as simple as breathing to me. Just as I imagine being gay is that way to a gay person. I certainly don't want someone to bully me over having huge belly scars. Just as I don't feel the need to to bully a guy that wants to lick another dude's shaft. Get it, dude. I know, they're awesome.

And again, if you're not down with the gayness, I get it, and that's your right and be yourself. But please don't show how dickless you really are by ever threatening someone who is. If you are gay, or you read this blog and know someone stricken by the gayness, give them a hug. They may have come through a lot. If you're a kid and you're struggling and you come across this blog, go to that website above and know that it does and will get better for you.

I mean.... I hate to rant, but if there's one thing I gotta speak my mind about, it's fucked up, dickless, meth-dealing, puppy-kicking, gay-bashing, kid-bullying fuck bags who torture woodchucks and don't jack off enough. Go fuck your cousin or something. That should get your aggression out.

Missy Lately

1. I do lunges and push ups off the sink in the bathroom at work every day. Then go back to my computer and email about how fucking buff I am. My friend CC and I are currently in a "buff off". Both only working out AT work. Sometimes I walk through the accounting cubicles, pulling back fake punches, seeing which old ladies flinch.

2. I'm obsessed with Benefit High Beam even though a friend of mine recently told me they may be putting toxic shit in their make up. Whatever... have you seen my cheeks glow?? Sure, maybe it's a radioactive glow, but a glow indeed!

3. My friend who we'll call MegaTits recently tipped me off to some hilarious pictures on facebook. A girl we went to school with has some sort of obsession with "pouting". Allll sorts of crazy ass poses with her pouting and pushing her tits together and talking about "V". Is she confused? High? Watching too much True Blood? Whatever it is, the pic of her upside down on a chair pouting could possibly get blown up and appear on my bedroom wall. For inspiration.

4. I have a wedgie pretty much 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

5. My new favorite articles of clothing are 2 pairs of shorts I got from Wal Mart for $12 each. They look like regular shorts on the front, but then there's a wide elastic band around the back. It's official. I'm back in the Midwest for good.

6. Apparently you can now carry a gun pretty much anywhere you want in Ohio if you have a concealed weapons permit. This includes bars, parks and stadiums. ......yayyyyyy?

7. I recently watched an episode of Toddlers & Tiaras. And by "watched" I mean "was fucking glued to". Next thing I knew, I was going bonkers taping every episode I could find. Other shows I have recently also become addicted to: My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding and Swamp People. Again.... I now live in the Midwest. And I'm really getting into it.

8. Lately, my jack off schedule has become more stressful than my actual job.

9. I have now decided I only eat (really bad) fast food on Fridays. What that means is that every day of the week, I get to say "4 more days til a Big Mac!" and "3 more days til a Big Mac and a McDouble!" and "Guys, in 2 more days I'm ordering McDonald's for breakfast, lunch and dinner!" and "Tomorrow I'm going to eat my fucking weight in nuggets, ya'll!!!". Everyone within ear shot of me at work is super impressed.

10. Britney Spears' body is hot again, but man, does she look dead-eyed or what? When I have my eventual breakdown, please don't put me on her meds cocktail.

Neat Stuff That Happened Today

1. Work is typical. I have to finish the paperwork of others instead of my own so I'll inevitably be late getting the totals in that I need to, but I'll be a team player so I have THAT going for me. Yippee!!

2. I realize I have forgotten my Uncrustables at home and the only thing I can think of that I actually want to consume is a GD Uncrustable because it's about 500 degrees outside and I don't dare brave the fire to get other food. Not even a McDouble.

3. I go to fix my self a nice big glass of ice water. I grab the ice cube tray from the work fridge. I twist the tray to loosen a cube. Part of it shatters off so hard it cuts my fucking face. No lie. A razor blade of ice slices my cheek open. What. The. Fuck.

4. I pant and suffer in the heat of my car all the way to Midas to get my oil changed and my A/C problem diagnosed. I had previously spoken to the guy at the counter and said I don't want to pay for this and him then tell me "Yep, doesn't work. Broken. Pretty hot in there, huh?". I wanted him to tell me exactly what was wrong so then I could decide how to fix it. He assured me this is what would happen. What actually happened was that he told me I needed to pay him $100 instead of the $20 diagnostic cost to put refrigerant in, charge that, THEN put dye in to run through to see where the leak in the system is. "Come back when it blows hot again. At least you'll have A/C for tomorrow, right?" Wrong, motherfucker. You closed and locked the Midas doors behind me and my shit blew hot the second I drove out of the parking lot. I wouldn't want to be you tomorrow if it doesn't magically cool down on my way to work. Because that means you charged me $100 and didn't even bother to see if the shit worked before your service guy with the nose ring wanted out of there to meet his fat as girlfriend down the street at the Village Idiot. See you at 5:20pm dirtbag. By the way, cool facial hair.

5. I Skyped with The Muffin and her Mommy. Watched her giggle and smile and reach at the screen. She was an animal.

6. I grilled some chicken and peppers on the deck while soaking in the rest of the sun. As I sat down to eat my yummy, self-cooked dinner, I look down to slice a pepper and the juice from it squirts directly into both of my eyes at the same time. Really awesome.

Guess which one of these things didn't make me want to punch someone in the head?

This Shirt Smells Like It's Previous Owner. I Think

Questions I have asked myself so far this morning.

1. Why am I semi attracted to Cee Lo? Is it because I'm looking at him sitting next to Adam Levine and Adam just automatically makes everything within a 20 foot radius hot?

Answer: Possibly. Or it's those tiny little arms and sausage fingers.

2. Am I even ready to see the clip of Breaking Dawn Part 1? Like, emotionally, am I ready? This is the beginning of the end. Though other obsessions have come into my life, there is only one Twilight Saga. Am I ready?

Answer: Yes. I have already set the DVR and put aside some sniffing salts and kleenex.

3. Should I re-paint my toes right now? Light?

Answer: Who the fuck cares. They're just toes. Sure. Light.

4. Do the Chicken Verde Healthy Choice Steamers replace my weekend morning Chipotle? They are pretty damn good.

Answer: Like the Twilight Saga of food, nothing can replace Chipotle for me, but it's a great alternative and less than half the damn calories.

5. Why can't I look away from that lady Coco that's married to Ice T?

Answer: Because her tits and ass look inflatable and she has the jaw of a GD man. I love it!

6. Why am I still wearing my goodwill t-shirt (that I didn't even was before wearing) with the kittens and flag on it?

2-part Answer: Because I'm a fucking scumbag and because it's the best 1 dollar I ever spent!

7. When I get my hands on the Duck and the Muffin again, will I squeeze them to death like Lenny in Of Mice And Men?

Answer: I really hope not.

8. How fucking good is Mt Dew?

Answer: Super fucking good!

9. If I go to Wal Mart right now, will it make me depressed about life like usual or happier because I'll buy sweet tea vodka?

Answer: I should go to Meijer. I have a coupon. And fuck Wal Mart.

10. What is that weird smell?

Answer: I think..... it's my butt. Yikes.

Way To Ruin It.

I honestly spent like 45 fucking minutes while shopping tonight thinking about why Sex and the City 1 was so good and Sex and the City 2 sucked so much dirty cock. All I came up with is that the person writing the dialogue for 2 was clearly sniffing gasoline for a very long time before submitting that script.

Asshole (s).

Day of Rest.

Things heard over a calm, Sunday afternoon.

Smash: Just because you smoke a lot of pot doesn't mean you're a hippie. If you're dirty and have pit hair, then you're a hippie.

Smash: Taint? Did you actually just say taint?

Jam Band: Have you never heard a girl say taint before?

Loin Cloth: Is my bathing suit to skimpy?... like for kids?

Me: It's a loin cloth. But it covers what any normal swimsuit would cover. I can't wear a swimsuit because my vagina is still too red.

Newsie: Waiting for it to heal a little first?

Me: Yeah, but not for a good reason. I Naired the shit out of it.

Newsie: Be careful with that stuff.

Loin Cloth: I never get laid anymore so I don't care what my vagina looks like.

Loin Cloth: What did you do last night?

Smash: Blacked out. (looks up at Travis) What happened to me last night?

Travis:...you were with us for a while... then you weren't.

Me: I wanted to wear this dress to work tomorrow.

Jam Band: Well, you shouldn't now that it reeks of Bud Light Lime. Not to mention, you've been hot and sweaty for a while now.

Me: It's work. The beer is the real problem. I can cover the sweat smell.

Me: What song is this? It's kind of good.

Loin Cloth: I LOVE DANCE BEATS!! I'll make you a mix CD!

Me:......ok. Do that please. I like good beats too.

Jam Band: Everyone loves touching me.

Morning Regrets

When I woke up this morning, shit you not, my second set of thoughts (my first was about a boy and food) went something like....

(insert actual frown here) "Aww... there are so many people I wish I would have texted in my terribly drunken state last night and didn't."

For real. This is my life. And I like it.

Is It Made From 95% Elastic?

I have to go try on a bridesmaid dress tomorrow that I'm expected to wear in October. This should be fun.

What I ate (and I think I drank) this weekend.

Friday:

1. Cup of Peaches & Cream oatmeal

2. Roughly 4-6 cups of coffee

3. Some random Sun Chips and a hand full of almonds

4. Pasta with cherry tomatoes

5. Small bag of sweet chili bbq Cheetos

6. 2 strawberry shortcake cookies.

7. Bowling Alley bacon cheeseburger

8. 1 slice of cheese pizza at same bowling alley

9. Infinity Coors Lights bottles

10. Several shots (white gummi bear?)

11. Several random sips of the drinks of strangers

Saturday:

1. Cup of water

2. 5 mini quiche

3. 2 Advil

(All of this came back up)

4. 2 cans of Coke

5. Market Fresh turkey sammie from Arby's

6. Sour cream and chive potato from Wendy's

7. Strawberry milkshake

8. 1 hand full semi sweet chocolate chips

Sunday:

1. Can of Coke

2. Chipotle burrito bowl

3. Can of Coke

4. Another can of Coke

5. Chips from burrito bowl

6. The 2nd baked potato from Wendy's I forgot I bought

7. Yet another.... can of Coke

She has sizes 0, 2 and 4. Guess we'll see what fits!! Wheeeeeee!

All I Needed Was Pour Some Sugar On Me.

So... all of a sudden I get hangovers that are somewhat violent.

I have heard lies and fables that as you get older, hangovers become more frequent and more severe. I am am in a raging state of denial about that.

The first one happened a few months ago when Blondie was in town. We rocked it pretty hard, yes, but I didn't think I had any more than my usual Saturday night intake of booze. Sure, there were shots. Sure there was red bull and vodka. Yeah, we split a cab with some rando substitute teacher, but that's because we thought he might pay for it. Did he? I have no idea. Not worried about it. All I know is that I got up the next day and barfed. First time that has ever happened. Normally, if I make it to sleep, I've made it! Still, later that day after a nap, I was just fine. It didn't take long and it didn't stop me from a burrito bowl.

This latest, yesterday, wow..... it was a real doozie. I got up and moved around, just like the Roomie always tells me to do. Then I had some water. Then I barfed that water up. Yep. Not pleasant. I thought I was done and moving on with my life so he made me some mini quiche. I wasn't done. And the quiche did NOT taste as good coming out. I decided I was pretty much done with food, so I just kept up with some water. When that too decided to make a reappearance, I was done all together except for some Advil. And an hour later, I barfed up the red dye from it. Fuck THAT, dudes. I had the brief feeling that I either got a migraine or contracted the flu from Ritchie T through my computer, but then I saw a facebook post that brought the events of the night back to me. Oh... there was bowling and pitchers. Then shots. Then more beers. Then more shots. I was on my Roomie's shoulders... then I was dancing along a bar... picking up random drinks and swigging them. Yep. That could have done it. The last thing I remembered was deciding nobody needed to take care of me, I was walking home. Not so much. Thank Goodness the roomie was on top of things and handled me.

Needless to say, it was not fun. But as long as I feel like I'm still able enough to pretend I'm an extra in Coyote Ugly, I better decide I'm able enough to barf the fruits of that labor up, eh?

CRIPES!

Look, I'm blogging to let you know I'm going to blog. Okay? I will blog some drunken drivel and talk about babies and shit very soon. I can't just throw any old shit up here, bros.

Plus, read below, I have a new job! Damn it!

I'm going to blog! And it will be great! Now get of my backs, you fucking fucks!!

FUCK!!!

Happy?

The Hits Just Keep On Comin'

What's new with me? Oh, not much.

1. Accounting was going well. Was. Until I realized I've been going about posting my rail drafts a little backward and now I have to basically haul ass and catch up 2 weeks of work to get back on track. By Tuesday. Win some, lose some. I will still email, text and read all day to keep my sanity. Which leads me to..

2. Hunger Games. How I didn't read this book earlier, I will never understand. I'm so glad Duck's Mom told me about it. It is exactly the book I need to be reading right now. About survival and love. Which leads me to..

3. The girls were on friendship probation after turning me on to the show Make It Or Break It. What the fuck? That show is an abomination. I was honestly squirming in my chair trying to pay attention without rolling my eyes straight out of my head. And I love teenage drama. Which leads me to...

4. One of the baby sisters was in the hospital. I spent a lot of time there with her. I mean, I slept in her bed the entire time, I couldn't help myself. All the reading about survival made me have a dream that I snapped the neck of one of her nurses when I didn't like the job she was doing. We also ate Jimmy Johns at 1am and watched the Rob Zombie remake of Halloween. Which leads me to....

5. Discussing how fucking terrifying masks were, I tried to get Adam H Newman to wear some sort of mask to the hospital to scare said baby sister. He refused. He was already wearing an equally terrifying mustache. It was so damn disturbing, I made him shave it off in the mall parking lot before I would be seen with him. Which leads me to....

6. I'm hormonal. Or anxious. Or both. All the time. I don't want to eat. I have lost a random 5 lbs. I do want to booze, but I fall asleep at like 9pm. My eyes water at the slightest comment. I have been tanning, cleaning my closet, painting my nails, shopping or anything else I think will help, but my behavior is questionable at best. Which leads me to...

7. I have been mean. I get very confused at how to process sadness and anxiety so I either make jokes or I'm just flat out mean. Even the jokes... are kind of fucking mean. Which leads me to...

8. I scolded my goldfish for eating too fast. Out loud. I actually said "If you wouldn't freak out and eat so fast, your bowl wouldn't be so damn cloudy!" These last two things lead me to....

9. My Mom is putting Mr. Cat to sleep tomorrow. This cat has been around forever and ever. His first vet records were from 1994. NINETY FOUR. And that's just vet records. Do you know how long she had that cat before he ever had to be seen by a vet? Years. I know I shouldn't be so sad about a cat, but he is just... really special. I will miss his tiny little feet that seemed too small for his body. I will miss yelling "kitty on safari!" out the window at him when I want him to come in. I'll miss the way he reaches his hand out to me when he wants to share my ice cream. He has had a reallllly long, good life, and I know it's the right thing to not make him carry on like he is, but it feels so wrong to think he won't be there the next time I go home. I know when she gives me the word, I'm going to cry. And I hate crying in front of people and I'll be at work. And I hate thinking that in the last 3 years, my Mom has had to put 2 pets to sleep that she and I both love very, very, very much. Which leads me to....

10. I need to buy my fish a bigger bowl and maybe a tunnel to swim through. I love that cat. And I like those fish.

Originally, I Blamed The Butterfly.

From before I can remember until I was about 10 years old my Grandparents took us to a campground off and on in the Summer. There was a pool at the clubhouse and when I was around 6 or 7, they also decided I should finally learn to swim. I wasn't a huge fan of the water because I fell off a raft while playing when I was 5 and found almost drowning very unpleasant. So, water and I had a sort of "nice to look at, but fuck that" relationship. Also, "almost drowning" means being under the water for about 3 seconds until my Mom fished me out, but when you're 5, it's a big ass deal.

Frustrated with my apprehension, they let me pick out some floaties. Baby blue on the inside and looked exactly like an Oreo bag on the outside. I was an advertisement. Moving on. I felt pretty good in them, I started on the stairs wading. I then ventured out to the shallow end and tested them in every way I could for dependability and sinkability. In the safety of that 3 feet of water, which damn near went over my head, I began the process of learning to swim. It was delicate, but I knew it had to be done.

One Saturday, my parents were coming to visit us. My Grandma was getting lunch ready so my Grandpa and sister and I went to the pool. Grandpa was chilling in his fave lawn chair smoking or sleeping and I'm sure Jennifer was cold kickin it live with one of the campground boys on the patio while I was practicing my swimming in my shallow training center. I can be easily distracted. I remember getting out of the pool because I saw a flower I wanted to examine more closely. There was a butterfly on it and I was staring it down, willing it to fly into my hand when I heard my Dad calling my name.

I looked up and saw my parents walking down the road to the clubhouse toward me. They were about 30 yards or so away. Fueled by giddiness over seeing them after their work week, or the butterfly, or the sunshine, I have no idea what.... I decided to show them what I had learned in a week in a BIG way. I smiled my biggest, waved at them through the chain link fence surrounding the pool, yelled "watch!" and took off running. I jumped as high as I could off the side of the pool directly toward the middle of the deep end, turning back to face them with my arms straight in the air.

As soon as I hit the water, I realized what was about to happen, but it was too late to pull my arms in and I felt the floaties slide right off. I panicked, but felt my feet touched the bottom so I pushed off and just clawed my little hands up toward the surface knowing my parents were watching and thinking if I just got my mouth out the top of the water, all I had to do was get one single word out as loud as I could, Mom, and she would get me.

To my surprise, as my eyes broke the surface and I was swallowing the pool water I had taken in getting a breath to scream her name, I saw my Mom in action. She was at the end of an Olympic sprint and leap, her hands and right foot were already on the top of the fence, and her eyes were locked on mine. She launched herself over the 5 foot of patio concrete between us and landed in the pool right next to me. She had to make that run in about 2 seconds. My head never even had time to bob back under the water. She beat my sister and Grandpa who were 15 feet away.

Trying not to make me lose my shit, she started laughing while swimming me to the ladder. I, of course, was in hysterics. My Dad helped us out and my Mom started drying me off telling me I was ok and she thought I looked awesome rocketing into the water. As I'm finally calming down and my Dad is done yelling at Jennifer for not jumping in sooner, my Mom turns me toward her in the chair and says "you know.... you're going to have to get back in there". I give her a look that is a mixture of sheer terror and "you've got to be shitting me", but she just stares back.

Me: "No way. I'm just not good at swimming and this proves it"

Mom: "You jumped, you took a chance, you just weren't ready. You got to the top though, didn't you? That's swimming, you just don't know it yet."

Me: "I'm done."

Mom: "You're not done. You have to swim. Period. Do you want to know a trick first?"

Me: "Whatever."

Mom: "Learn to float. Let's get back in. If you know how to just relax and float, you won't panic and you can just lean back and regroup like that."

Me: "No thanks."

Mom: "Please don't make me throw you back in. I promise you... everything will be ok, and you'll feel better if you just let yourself float. And no matter what, you are getting back in."

I cried until dinner. She didn't care. And the next day.... I learned how to float. Then swim. She was right. Sometimes, you just need to relax.

Thanks, Mom.

This conversation happened today with yet another pregnant friend. We'll call her Nushen.

Me: You have that kid yet?

Nushen: Nope. I'm 36 weeks.

Me: Dang, I feel like you've been knocked up a for a year.

Nushen: Almost!

Me: Is it going to come out of your vagina?

Nushen: That's the yucky plan.

Me: Fuuuuuck that, dude.

Nushen: Oh well.. We had a good run.

That, unfortunately, was the high point of my day.

As Far As I'm Concerned, Spring Is Here Now.

Something wonderful that I forgot to say today:

I was driving on 475 North. The sun was shining. I was listening to my new Spring mix. I was on a good pace to get to work exactly 9 minutes early. That's when I saw him. Off to the right, on hind legs, seemingly staring into nothing. Still groggy from his several months of napping I assume.

My first woodchuck of the spring!!!

I stared as long as I could without wrecking all the other commuters. He was big, fat and everything I had been missing in woodland creatures all winter. I really hope he had a good day.

I Wonder How Long It Took Him To Learn That.

One of my little brothers got married on Saturday. They had what they called a Decades Dance at the reception. The DJ asks all the married couples come out to start dancing. As the song plays, they announce "If you've been married for less than 5 years, leave the dance floor". They go from 5, to 10, to 20, to 25 and so on and so forth. When they got to "If you've been married less than 40 years, exit the dance floor", there were 3 couples left. They lowered the music and asked all three couples to say how long they had been married and give a piece of advice to the newlyweds.

Couple one - Married 44 years: The wife spoke.
"Just have fun. Be able to laugh at anything and everything. It will get you through. Life's a ball, right?"

Couple two - Married 47 years: The wife spoke.
"Never go to bed mad. Don't leave an argument like that. Take a break if you have to, but figure it out."

Couple three - MARRIED 64 YEARS: The husband spoke.
"Just let her be the boss."

Words of wisdom!!

Happy Birthday Adam H. Newman. You've Come Along Way From Being A High School Asshole

It started in about 4th or 5th grade. He called my house to ask me if I would "go out" with Derek Scaletta and if I would like to walk down the street to watch them play basketball. Even though he had a desirable brunette mullet and a silky smooth jump shot, I was lost in Derek's baby blues.

It happened again Junior year of high school. He sat next to me in speech class. He talked loudly. He walked with his chest puffed out and his arms swinging. He wore black K-Swiss canvas tennies. His favorite color appeared to be plaid. He drove a Z-28 when weather permitted. He would jump up in the air, ram his ass in his friends face and scream "Booty Bust!!". He was an asshole, but boy was he cute.

It happened next in spring right after I had turned 20. I was roller blading and had stopped at my roommate's sister's little league game. His sister also played on the team. Not sure if it was the butt length bottle blond hair, the newly minted tattoo of badassery on my back, my deep tanning bed color, eyebrows I hadn't tweezed even once yet, or my sleeveless Michael Jordan t-shirt, but I couldn't believe what happened next.
Friend: Um, Adam Newman is staring at you.
Me: Really?? (I look over. Smile, wave)
Friend: He's still looking. Oh my God, he's walking over here.
Me: (while being careful not to look at him) Are you sure? Is he sitting with us?
Friend: Yes. Shh.
Adam: *Flirt, flirt, flirt. Be cute, be cute. Say smart witty things.* Well, maybe I'll see you around this summer. (walks away with chest puffed out as we stare. He turns around mid stride and catches us)
Friend: He is really, really hot.
Me: Seriously. If I could just get like, 20 minutes in a room alone with him.
Friend: Forget it. He's like... out of our league. (true story, she really used those exact words)
Me: We'll see about that. (never said, but wouldn't it have been cool if I did?)

We had both just come from crappy break ups that involved our significant others actually hooking up with each other. Really peachy situation. After word of our softball field flirting had travelled around town (it took about 30 minutes), 2 mutual friends got us in a room together by telling the other "He/She has been asking about you, I think he/she would like to go out with you". It was a very well-executed rebound operation. We were in an apartment above our local tavern. Visiting, catching up, having several 6 packs with our 2 friends, when he flicked his bottle cap, casually leaned back against the kitchen counter, locked eyes with me, and said the sentence that launched it all....

"So... tell me how you feel about me."

For the first time that I can ever remember, I was speechless. Then fumbling for words. Who says that? Adam H. Newman, that's who. We ended up having a great time, laughing a lot, and sleeping on a floor next to each other that night. About 3 hours into him thinking I was asleep, he put his arm over me and the biggest grin ever spread across my face. And for the last 14 years, I have smiled that smile a million more times when with him.

He has been the best friend I could ever hope for. I was having a hard time in life when he came into it and it was about to get a whole lot harder. Without him, I honestly don't know what I would be like today. He brought me back to life several times I could have just given up. He forgave me the unforgivable when I wouldn't forgive myself. He has always been honest with me, even when it wasn't what I wanted to hear. He has always pushed me to be better while never telling me to be anything other than myself. He has given me the best, most loving compliments I have ever heard. He held my kite strings when I could have easily floated away in the madness of Los Angeles. He let me be and stay a part of his family since we met. (that little sister from above? I'm in her wedding this fall) He makes me laugh, he pushes me to the brink of insanity when arguing, and he gets my food or coffee order right every time. He pulled me out of bed when I wanted nothing more than to stay there, got me Krispy Kreme, and took me to see Transformers. All while claiming not to be embarrassed by my cut off sweats and dirty t-shirt. He is the best, most consistent, good-hearted person I have ever met. Everyone who meets him falls in love with him and I am ridiculously lucky that he's my best friend.

He is 11 months older than me and turns 35 today. He's also growing a bitchin' 'stache right now for March, so if you see him around, be sure to compliment him on it.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ADAM H. NEWMAN!!!

You're aces!

Dawson's Creek Is Now Located IN MY PANTS.

Here are some of my latest thoughts.

- I love crazy Charlie Sheen. It's just too bad that someone is going to stick him in rehab or he's going to kill himself soon. I could listen to those one liners for another month before I got truly bored. I mean, I feel sorry for his kids and all, but they have Martin Sheen as a Grandpa so they'll be just fine. Dude has played the President on TV.

- Spring is trying so hard to get here. I can taste the patio drinks now. I actually smelled a skunk yesterday so that means fuzzy mammals are coming out of hiding. Shouldn't the woodchucks be close behind?? I mean... it's time. Stop sleeping. I miss your fat little asses.

- I saw James Van Der Beek in the new Ke$ha video. Who knew that quivering-lipped Dawson Leary would turn out to be so GD sexy as a normal adult! That wordy bastard wore carpenter jeans in Varsity Blues. Carpenter jeans! I mean, I use "normal adult" loosely because he's in a Ke$ha video, but he's funny and there are Unicorns, that's normal enough for me.

- Poison and Motley Crue are touring together this summer. This is like Damon and Stephen Salvatore simultaneously telling me they want to be my live in boyfriends, but with fewer STDs. Fuck! Yes!

- Every time I skype with CML's baby, she gets bigger and crazier and I love it. As soon as the speaker comes on, I can hear her screaming in the background. She's very confused by seeing and hearing me on the screen. Too bad she's (like her parents) too young to remember Max Headroom. I'm like that, but way less douchey.

- Status on my Alec Baldwin crush: Then, Now and Forever.

- Parks And Rec is the best comedy on TV right now. Modern Family is definitely a close second, but the mix of characters is just gold. Ron Swanson. He is all that is man. And at the risk of sounding like a moron (though when has that ever concerned me), who knew Rob Lowe was such a good comedy actor?

- I am trying to not eat Chipotle for a whole month. I highly doubt I will make it even 2 weeks. By the end of week 3, I would be crazier than Charlie Sheen. I would rather hold my breath for a day. Hell, I would rather spend a week under water looking at eels, sharks and zombies. Everyone knows how much I like being under water.

- Seafood salad on lime tortilla chips. Put it in your mouth.

- If I see one more "Your Baby Can Read!!" commercial, I'm gonna lose it. Your baby can't read, you asshole, your baby thinks words are pictures. The alphabet is a pretty important part of life. How about teaching a kid that. I get that you want to give your child any advantage you can from as young an age as possible, but look, random housewife from Kansas, don't order that. Your baby can maybe "read" by the end, but that dumb kid can't spell for shit. Show the kid a picture of a cat and ask them to spell it. I bet they just start screeching in terror or asking you why you derailed their brain before they had a chance to put it to good use.