Does anybody read these?

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Two random thoughts... (OK, maybe three)

A while ago I got an email from someone I hadn't heard from for a while. This person said, "I've been reading your blog and you seem down in the dumps. Hope you're OK." Well, that was interesting because at the time I got that note, I had been doing great. And for the most part I'm still doing great. However, I am in a tad bit of a funk. I realize that I HAVE to do this Nashville thing, but I am very panicked that it is not going to work. I know it is something I have to work at, and believe me I am trying, but at the same time I worry that it's just not going to work. And I am out of ideas. I can't think of anywhere else I want to pack up and move my whole life to. So, I guess I just have to make it work. Failure is not an option. That, however, does not make it any less scary.

Second random thought. A few weeks ago, Shane mentioned over at Nickerblog that he was addicted to Cadbury Mini Eggs. I empathized, but the addiction was not full-on here...yet. My brother went to Sam's Club and got the big, giant monster bag of Mini Eggs (think three pounds worth) and I've made a serious dent in them. I need to stop but I can't. What makes them so good? Would anyone like to buy a used bag of about 1 pound of Mini Eggs. I'll pay the shipping. God knows they'll be lighter when I get them to the Post Office.

Last random thought, which is very cool. My mom is moving some stuff out of one storage area to another. I have this trunk that was in my room as a child. It started out as a toy box but became more of a hope chest. I can easily say I have not looked inside that trunk since I left for college in 1994. I have no idea what's still in there.

So, my mom calls me downstairs to show me something and I am amazed. It is a soup tureen that's been in that trunk for years. I do not remember where I got it or why I got it. I'm sure there was some reasoning behind it. But it's going in my own personal storage now. Because it matches my china pattern that I bought in 2000. Have no idea why I bought it 6 years before (I think it may have been a gift, but still not sure why). Anyhow, I have a really cool soup tureen to take with me for my dishes now.

Monday, March 27, 2006


Sometimes people really get on my nerves. We're going to blame the radio station in Lexington this time. I'm not saying their tacky, tasteless, rude shirts Saturday night were the only reason someone was a grumpy gus (I'm being very polite there.), but they surely didn't help. So, we'll blame them for things not working out the way I'd planned. I'm sure that the folks at Camp Kenny aren't particularly happy with them either.

I want to say that I had a great weekend. My friends are all fantastic, and I even made a few new friends. I had a great time. I had a lot of fun, and the shows were great. I fell in love with Dierks Bentley after this weekend. I might even join his fan club, and not just for the sandbar (or sandbox, as Gretchen calls it) passes. He's very talented and definitely not hard on the eyes. I was exhausted and slightly pickled, and I'm not sure I could ever do three shows in a row again. It might've helped if the weather had cooperated.

I had a lot of fun and I was sad to see the weekend end. The trip home yesterday was so long because there wasn't anything left to be excited about. I'm supposed to be done with Camp Kenny for 103 days, but I don't know if that's going to happen. We will see. You never know where I'll turn up.

I guess I wished that something would've happened with the boy, but I'm not devastated. It's not like my life's on hold because it didn't. It's not going to work if it's pushed anyhow. If it's supposed to happen, it will. Not that I'm saying that I'm just going to hang out and wait and not do anything and expect him to magically know I'm interested; I just feel like a stalker when I'm a little more assertive. God, I wish he worked at Walmart or something. It just sucks that his job makes him high-profile. It sucks that there are girls out there who prostitute themselves to get in with those guys and ruin it for everyone else. It sucks that I know I am a great person and I worry that I can't have this great guy that I really hit it off with because I don't look (and dress and act) like a porn star. So, I guess part of me wonders if this whole thing isn't the absolute dumbest idea I've ever had. I guess that I saw a side of people that I hadn't seen before, and I didn't like it. I'm not a Super Fan by any means. Hell, I'm not even sure I like Kenny. I go early to sit in the parking lot and drink with my friends. I don't stare at buses, pump people for info or rub my boobs on someone to get favors, information or access. I guess I just never realized exactly how much the people who do that suck. And I don't blame the guys for being leery of everyone they encounter. Just seeing how people reacted when they realized that we knew who folks were made me a little sick to my stomach. I'm not doing this because I want to know anyone. These feelings I have are bigger than anything I've ever felt. I can't turn them off, so I have to try. I just wish I didn't feel completely foolish.

Julie ran into him on Friday, and they had a nice chit-chat. Friday we were cramped for time because we had to get Toma to a visit with her granny, which was much more important than me looking for a boy. So, I figured that I'd make it happen on Saturday.

And then there was massive grumpiness. The man I saw that night wasn't the guy I like. He was stressed out and pissed off. I didn't see exactly what happened, but a friend who had close-up seats told me that he got in a fight with a guy from a radio station and had to be physically restrained. He pouted most of the night. He wasn't the smiling, happy, funny guy that I like. I said the other day that it was sexy when he told the fans who was boss, but he went from sexy to scary. I've never seen him that pissed off, and I've seen him pissed off before. Needless to say, the last thing I wanted to do was meet up with him for a friendly chit-chat. I'll catch him later. I may just pass him a note in study hall and see what happens.

Yeah, I don't have answers either way, but I'm not any worse off than I was a week ago. The real purpose of the weekend was to see my friends and have fun and hear some great music. So, mission accomplished. Yeah, the other stuff would've been nice. Especially closure, if that's what needs to happen. But it's not like I'm sitting around and waiting and thinking that's the only option in my life like some people do. It'd be nice if it happens, but I've got lots of great stuff going on in my life, with or without him. And it's not like I would turn down someone else if the opportunity arises. I could have that opportunity now if it weren't for the fact that I don't see the point in pursuing a relationship here when I'm moving in a month. And frankly, I don't believe you accomplish much by trying to track love down for yourself. Love just happens. When you least expect it. That's why about half-way through the weekend I stopped worrying about it. If it's supposed to happen, it will. If God wants two people to be together, nothing they do to screw it up will really screw it up. Or at least that's what I'm counting on.

I know you've all been waiting with baited breath, so I wish I had better news to report. I'm not devastated, so I hope you all manage OK.

And now we're back to reality. More posts about burning my ass in the tanning bed, doing laundry and looking for a job. I bet you can't wait!!!!!

Saturday, March 25, 2006

Thought of the day

If you were going to go to a concert to meet up with some guys to do illicit things, would you take your momma? Because this lady sitting in front of Toma and Gretchen tonight was so excited telling us all about how her daughter was backstage and she didn't know the guys' names and they always called her to come see them when they were nearby and blah blah blah, and we all really wanted to look at her and say, "Lady, you do realize that your daughter's a road whore, right?"

But we were nice and we didn't. I've seen lots of gals exchange favors the last few days, but I don't think any of the others brought their mamas.

Of course, this lady was nice and wasn't like the gals who offer their young daughters up like a prize to the guys. I guess those girls take their mamas too.

God help us all. I just can't even imagine that. None of it, really...

Friday, March 24, 2006

Are you ready? Are you ready?

Write or work out? Write or work out?

Well, you don’t get a physique like mine if you spent your whole life choosing working out over writing… Seriously, though. I am going to write this and then I’m going to hit the treadmill. It’ll be great. Besides everyone else swears that someone else has lost weight and is looking good. Whatever’s in the water he’s drinking, I’m all about it.

But I’m getting ahead of myself… Let’s start at the beginning.

I spent waaaayyyy too much time getting ready Tuesday. WHY do I procrastinate?!? Why?!? And why do I say every time that next time I won’t do it? I also do. I need to end the lie, because God knows I think that ending the procrastinating isn’t going to happen.

So, I leave the house 7ish Wednesday to pick up Rosalie at the airport (after an all-nighter, I might mention…thank God for coffee!) I grab her and we head over to Luke’s house, which is half-way between Columbus and Dayton. We assembled the gift bags for all our friends (We’re not giving Sonya hers until Saturday, so I’ll take a pic so you can see how awesome they are!), took naps, and then Rosalie prettied up and we hit the road again.

It only took about an hour to get to Dayton. We stopped at my favorite store and I got the cutest outfit. (I realized as I was packing that I really needed new jeans.) So, after we were done, we headed to the rental car outfit to pick up Toma and Gretchen. The second they got there, the fun began. I’ve known Gretchen for over a year now, and known Rosalie and Toma for months, but I hadn’t met the latter two yet. (Gretchen was my partner in crime last year for Opening Weekend.) Toma’s hilarious. Like stand-up comedian hilarious. Maybe funnier than Janine Garafolo. We just seemed like we’ve all known each other since birth. We all just clicked.

So, we headed to our hotel, which is the Inn at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. Amazing. I haven’t been on a military installation since my dad drug me to Fort Knox as a kid. I just can’t believe it. It’s pretty much its own city within Dayton’s walls. I think it’s one of the largest AFBs in the United States, if I remember correctly. And our accommodations? Wowsers. We’re in the “Distinguished Visitors’ Quarters,” which is basically where they put generals and the like. This is EASILY the nicest hotel room I’ve ever stayed in, and it costs $43.50 a night. It’s a two-bedroom suite. It has two very nice-sized bedrooms, plus a living room/dining room/kitchenette area. We’re living the life, I tell you. I’m going to be sad to go to the Hyatt Saturday morning. It will be a total let-down after this shack, especially at $169/night.

This is going to be the longest post ever. Maybe I should do the concert separately? We’re still on Wednesday. Ooops, sidebar. Don’t worry. Thursday’s on its way!

So, we’re on our way to the hotel and for some reason I was in charge of leading. Hello? I’ve only been to Dayton like three times in my life. Ohio is big. (Another sidebar: I met my ex, Mike in Dayton. April 1997. In case you didn’t know that. Rosalie didn’t know that he broke up with me by sending me all my belongings in a box when he moved to D.C. and that I listened to “What I Need to Do” for three days straight after that happened. Told her at the show last night. More on that another day.)

OK, so I’m leading. Toma’s in the other car. Going to an Air Force Base I’ve never seen before in my life. So we get to an intersection and there’s the arena, taunting me on the corner. So, since I don’t know where I’m going, I decide we’re snooping. The girls call me from the other car and say “We need to turn left.” OK, yeah, we’ll get there. Right now we’re gonna go get the lay of the land. So, we make a swing around the arena to see what’s up.

One hundred and thirty people work for the Big Guy (or The Princess, as we’ve taken to calling him). That’s a lot of people. So, seriously, honestly, what are the chances of the ONE that I want to see being the only one standing outside the arena by the buses? Honestly? Because he was. (At least now the others understand that I have LoJack on his ass and can find him ANYWHERE. Is it a connection? Or am I just Joyce? Really, I’m not sure yet. I don’t actively stalk; I just find.)

So, we see him. Gretchen and I squeal. Toma, on the other hand, “accidentally” peels out with her car. He looks right at her. So, then I really feel like Joyce. (I know some of you have no idea what that means. Think “Super Fan” in a stalkerish way. Some day I’ll explain her. Maybe later today! With pics!) So, we are leaving. But for some reason I feel compelled to give it another whirl around the parking lot. I swear, he’s like crack. I can’t help it. But all in all, not bad for the first 17 minutes of our trip.

Dinner was Spaghetti Warehouse, although I was very sad they didn’t have a lot that Rosalie could eat on her restrictive diet right now. I felt like shit, because I suggested the restaurant. But Oh.My.God, the food there is so freaking good. I had the wild mushroom pasta. I could sit in a giant bowl of that and eat my way out. I never finish my meal anywhere these days, and I ate every little bite. We enjoyed our food and had soooooo much fun. Didn’t drink a drop and were absolutely crazy. I am surprised that we didn’t get kicked out when Toma did her Cheri Oteri impersonation. Hilarious.

So, after staying up way too late and eating way too much, we were up bright and early on Thursday for the fun. I hopped out of bed at 7:00 a.m. and dragged Rosalie and Toma to the gym with me. Then we went to the commissary to buy food. Lots o’ food. And let me tell you about the prices for the military. We bought a cart load of food and booze, lots o’ booze for $100. My little purple bag of liquid fun cost $12. I need to marry a fighter pilot so I can shop here all the time.

We met Julie and Lynn for lunch, and once again the other patrons probably wished that a giant hole in the earth would suck us up and make it end. It’s not our fault our booth had a stripper pole next to it. But I could tell over our burgers that we were going to have a very fun day.

And we did. For the most part. We got primo parking right up at the arena because Julie sweet-talked the security guy. We had an absolute blast. Unfortunately a few Crazies from the fan club showed up, got drunk, decided they were our best friends and then wouldn’t go away. Oh well. Some people you add alcohol, and it’s instant asshole. This one girl seemed fine when she was sober. Four beers later and we wanted to run over her with our car. And we couldn’t escape her at the concert. All freaking night she kept running into us. At the point where she started hugging me in the booze line, I just might’ve accidentally elbowed her in the gut to get her to let go. Accidentally, of course.

Then the show came. Toma and Gretchen had great seats. Rosalie and I had good seats. They could’ve been much worse. I guess the best thing about having a huge crush on one of the production guys is that I could figure things out before they happened (like the swing being back, baby…) but other things were a surprise like the girl with hooters and a bikini top on the swing throwing trinkets into the crowd. It was a great show, although I really expected The K-man (nickname count for this post: 3) to shake it up a little more. Seriously. I’ve been a fan for 10 years, and it looks the same every time. So you added a couple new songs and a girl who looks like a hooker giving people gifts, you can do better.

Certain people – ahem – were the busiest I’ve ever seen them. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him work so hard. Or look so hot. It was khaki pants and glasses day. If he’d turned his hat backwards, I’d have launched myself over the railing and had my way with him right up against the wall of the Sandbar. Well, everyone would’ve gotten their 80 bucks worth, I guess. Poor thing, running around like crazy making sure everything happened, and, of course, doing the job of six arena security guards. During the last song, he finally started to smile and breathe and have a good time. I felt kind of bad for him, but I know that he’s doing what he loves. Of course, it’d be nicer if he had a little more time to pay attention to me. But I like it when he works. He looks all sexy when he opens a can of whoop-ass on overzealous fans.

So, nothing much happened yesterday, but I’m working on a plan for today. Sometime before the end of this weekend, something is going to happen. I just don’t know what it’ll be yet. But rest assured, I’ll be sure to keep you posted…

Monday, March 20, 2006

Busy, busy, busy!!!!

I am really busy, but I figured I'd check in. I guess being busy keeps me from freaking out, so busy is good. I am not sure if I'll have time to write tomorrow, and I'm hoping I'll be having so much fun while I'm gone that I won't have much time to check in. We'll see...

I am really looking forward to seeing my friends Wednesday, but I have NO idea how I'm going to get everything done before I go. Fingers crossed that I'll be able to pull it off. I'm really hoping... I just get easily distracted and find other things to do. Well, now we're down to the crunch which means laundry marathon, no computer, following my to-do list down to the minute. I just have to be disciplined. Sometimes that works.

Today was just one of those days. It was very interesting, but I got things accomplished, even if I had to take the round-about way to do them. So, I'm too busy to think, let alone to articulate my thoughts properly.

Will keep you all posted. Have a great week!

Saturday, March 18, 2006

This is nice...

Kind of ties in with St. Patty's Day, don't you think? Anyhow, I'm not sure I believe that great things can be found under rainbows, but sometimes they're pretty. Especially when they're over Chocolate Hole. This one came from, which I can tell has all kinds of info that I'll read when it's not 12:30 in the morning.

Not much to report...

For obvious reasons, my day started with me canceling today's tanning appointment. They still had to dock me for the visit, which is fine because I am never going to use them all in time. It just makes more sense to buy a package. On the plus side, I am finally able to touch my back and everything else feels fine. (Thanks to Toma for the aspirin suggestion.)

And I also think I may have found the culprit for cooking myself at the tanning bed. One of the medications I take doesn't help with the whole sun sensitivity situation, and I am pretty darn sure that I accidentally took extra meds. So, I guess it probably jacked up my system a little and the tanning bed didn't help.

I hauled ass to get to the post office today, only to find out that when they decided to stay open longer on weekdays, they sacrificed an hour on Saturday. So, here I was with all kinds of things to be mailed off, and I stood with 3 other people staring inside as some guy came and locked the door in front of us. Oh well, Monday it is.

I had fun today. I went to see my little cousin Molly in her cheerleading contest. It was something else, probably ages 4-13. Some girls had absolutely no idea why they were there, but other girls were working really hard because they wanted to be really great cheerleaders. I'm not sure that it was supposed to be humorous, but at times that's exactly what it was.

I am discovering iTunes, and it is a great time. Yesterday, we went with so we never had to go to the video store to rent another movie, and today we realize we never have to leave the house to buy CDs. That's so fantastic!

Friday, March 17, 2006

I think it's sleepy time...

OK, so I'm starting to get tired and giddy and find odd things amusing. And I just read another article on the Bush Administration pushing to get all this info about what we are seaching on Google. This really pisses me off. But Google is holding its ground. Bravo, Google.

The "official" reason the White House wants this info is to stop child pornography. Now, that really does sound like a very admirable cause on the exterior. Too bad I don't believe it. Because they can say that but you don't think if they saw you googling how to hijack an airplane or build a meth lab that they wouldn't come after you? Now, those things are very bad. So let's use a different example. When I wrote that post about my friend who had committed adultery a few years ago, several people arrived at my blog by googling the word adultery. Well, in some states that's still illegal. So imagine if the government had those google records. It invades our privacy and violates our civil liberties for the government to monitor our search-engine usage.

It is none of the government's business what I google. And frankly, I don't usually google anything too "dangerous" anyhow. But today I decided to have some fun by googling the names of key Bush Administration officials with some pretty interesting things just to piss them off if they ever do get to see what I'm googling. Things like "Rumsfeld and crossdresser," "Bush alcoholic." You know, things like that. And let me tell ya, I got an education on a few things when my results came up. Just as an FYI, it doesn't look like Rummy's a crossdresser. I did however read an article called "Condoleezza Rice: a Sally Hemmings for the 21st Century." (I'm not linking it; google it yourself. It's fun!) The only thing about that article that I didn't like is that it implies a comparison between George Bush and Thomas Jefferson. Thomas Jefferson was arguably the greatest president our country has ever seen. Bush, not so much. He's like Thomas Jefferson in Bizarro World.

OK, I'm going to go hide in my secret bunker in the side of the hill now before the feds come.

Before anyone goes nuts, I was just JOKING. I am a good, law-abiding, tax-paying citizen. Although I am one of the EVIL Democrat persuasion. I don't have a bunker. But I do have rights that I am holding onto with the tips of my fingers.

Is tattoo really the word of the day? Really?

The word of the day is supposed to help us broaden our vocabulary and teach us new words.

Did anyone really look over there today and say, "Praise Jesus! I had no idea what a tattoo is! Thank you, word of the day for making me smarter!"

I'm doubting that happened. I am kind of surprised that tattoo made the list with some of the really cool words that have been on here.

OK, back to our regularly scheduled programming. I just thought that was a hoot.

Loserville (pop. 1) City Council Minutes...

So, the Loserville City Council convened this evening, and here are the minutes from that meeting.

Present was I, the mayor and president pro-tem of the Loserville City Council. (Because the population is ONE, I get to be everything.)

Because of a freak tanning accident, it hurts to wear pants. It is now 7 p.m. and I am in my PJs and seriously contemplating going to bed. I am also covered in aloe, in case you wanted to know. All of this makes me grumpy.

I have never been able to tan. I burn quickly, but then after about a day of excruciating pain I have a healthy glow. Everyone all my life has said if I tanned this wouldn't happen. And frankly, the tanning bed really improves my mood. And I still have plenty of time to not be a very bright pink color by next week. I am just thinking that it'd be best to miss tomorrow's appointment. And, of course, because my legs never get color, they are the only part of me that isn't burned. I will never in a million years understand how my legs do not get tan at all. They are very white legs.

Needless to say there aren't many opportunities for St. Patty's day merriment when you are wearing a night shirt and covered in aloe, so I think I might call it an early night. My bedroom light is burned out, and of course you don't realize this until you go to turn the light on for the evening. So, I am thinking that maybe I will be like the Amish and go to bed at 8 p.m. and wake up with the sunshine. That way everything I should be doing this evening can be done with the extra time tomorrow.

Loserville also entered into an exciting new business partnership today. Yesterday at the video store, we realized that we were spending way too much money on movies. We looked at various vendors and realized that seemed like the way to go, so we have them on a two-week trial basis to see if we like it. What appealed to me about was that every week in my email I get a coupon I can use at my local Blockbuster store. It's pretty much worthless now, but once I move it will be very handy. It just makes no sense for me to drive to the video store when it's 14 miles away. By the time I get there and back, it's really driven up the cost of movies. And pay-per-view is nice, but I can only watch what they have on at the time. And there is the added benefit of listening to my dad bitch when his cable bill is $4 higher!

So, anyhow, that is my exciting Friday night. And yes, I know I'm not really a loser, but let's face it, you hardly think winner when you think of people who burn themselves in the tanning bed and go to bed at 8 p.m. on the biggest party night of the year.

And besides, I did make a mean shrimp scampi for dinner tonight. I just need to find a man who loves food and woo him with my cooking. If that happens, I seriously doubt there will be any bitching on those nights when bedtime is at 8 p.m.

I guess I should probably rest up this weekend anyhow since the NON-STOP FUN starts Wednesday!!!!!

It's not the Caribbean...Sue me!

The Photo of the Day started because Toma, Rosalie and I were excited about our upcoming vacation and needed a little inspiration to get us through the winter months.

Well, this picture is not of the Caribbean, but it sure does make me think about vacation plans. It is somewhere that I have to go at some point; I just haven't made it there quite yet.

In honor of St. Patrick's Day, here's a picture of Dublin. It's just as nice as the Caribbean, but with less rum and more whiskey. (I'm not saying that in a bad way.)

'Tis a blessing to be Irish!

I'm not nearly as Irish as other folks, but I am as proud of my heritage as anyone else with just a little Irish blood. Plus, I heard once that everyone's Irish on St. Patrick's Day!!!!

If nothing else, it's a good excuse to drink Guinness, green beer or Irish whiskey, wear green, eat corned beef and cabbage and recite limericks and rowdy Irish drinking songs! Of course, our Bishop didn't give us a dispensation here, so our family is having a big St. Patrick's day celebration at our weekly family dinner on Sunday. Grandma is so hard-core that she's making me bring Watergate Salad, because while it's not Irish, it's green. I wanted to bring pineapple upside-down cake, so this was a compromise. It has pineapple, at least.

I thought about going out tonight. I won $20 on an instant lottery ticket (although not the pot of gold one in the ultimate irony) and all the local pubs have merriment planned for the evening. I thought about going to find some fish and chips, but then I realized that's extremely fattening, and I've had a very good eating day. So, I guess I'll stay home and make the Shrimp Scampi I'd planned on before I realized that March 17 was a Friday.

When I was growing up our church, St. Patrick's, had a huge to-do every year. Of course EVERYONE went to mass and then the Men's Club threw one helluva party in the Parish Hall afterward, complete with green beer. When Luke was in the 7th grade he got a week's worth of detentions and countless Hail Marys for getting caught drinking the green beer. He and his friends had all gotten the most coveted Altar Boy gig of the year, and totally blew it when they got caught green-handed, so to speak.

If I were in Detroit, I'd be headed over to Royal Oak to Duggan's or to the Old Shillelagh Downtown. You'd have to get there early, but you never knew who you'd run into once you arrived. Oh, the great times. A few times I just went across the street to Fibber McGhee's Irish Pub in the strip mall by my apartment (this was very handy for stumbling home drunk after one, four, five too many Guinnesses!)

Anyhoo, I am going to leave you with some words of Irish wisdom. If I like you, the first one's for you. If I don't ... well, you still get a St. Patrick's Day present!!!

(If you like the banner at the top of my post, click here to see more great artwork by its creator!)

Holy Crappoli!

OK, my blog's been down for almost 2 days!!!! Talk about withdrawals. I have plenty to say, it being the holiday of the Isle of Erin and all!!!! I've also been pretty busy, and I'm trying new stuff!!! So, I will get caught up soon. I'm glad I'm back up and running. I guess Blogger had some serious technical difficulties yesterday!!!

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Random musings...

I had originally intended to blog about staying with Grandma for three days. It was interesting. Grandma is interesting. But it was fun too. I wonder if when I'm in my 70s if I will be belligerent and cantankerous. Goodness, she can watch the same TV show as everyone else and see something completely different and insist she's right. I just finally gave up and let her "win." I told my mom that I didn't cook to death and I learned a lot about sports.

I just can't believe that she doesn't think that Barry Bonds deserves to be punished. I think he does, but I know he won't. For Bud Selig to punish Barry Bonds now, he'd have to admit what we all know. Baseball turned a blind eye on all the doping because Bonds, Mark McGwire, etc., filled the seats and saved baseball. They used performance-enhancing drugs and people paid to see their enhanced performances. I guess Pete Rose should've just stabbed everyone in the ass with needles instead of betting on baseball. Although my aunt did say she'd love to Bud Selig tell Barry that he can just admit and everything will be OK -- you know, like he did with Pete -- and then continue to screw him once he admitted what he did wrong.

I am doing much better today. Seriously, I have nothing to lose next week. It'll be fine. Repeat frequently.

I had to watch Rent tonight because I have to return it tomorrow. Wow, what a great movie. I loved it. Of course, I've been watching Law & Order for years because of Jesse L. Martin, so it was great to see him in the movie. I just wish I'd seen him on Broadway.

So, with that, today's song of the day is "I'll Cover You" from Rent. Great song.

I guess my mom's meeting went well. Yay! I'm off the hook. Oh, and expect a crazy political rant as soon as I figure out exactly what I want to say!!! You've been warned.

She's almost too cute to be afraid of...

This is Precious Kitty. When my brother and I lived together, he found her in a snow bank and brought her home. She's always liked him more than me, so when I came back to Ohio she stayed with him. Before she tried to kill me, I toyed with the idea of taking her to Nashville. She really is a good cat most of the time. Unfortunately, I can't get past the intense pain and the gashes in my head. If she will be my friend again, I may take her to the vet and get her declawed and then she can go. We will see. Now that I'm not having a roommate, it'd be nice to have someone to watch TV with me.

Isn't she adorable, though? It kind of reminds me of the time one of my crazy friends said "The Devil wrapped in candy wrappers is still the Devil." (She was actually talking about Harry Potter, but I thought it made sense. To describe Precious, not Harry Potter.)

I did a bad thing...

OK, so I did a bad thing, but I didn't realize I did it until a little while ago, and there's not much I can do about it now, anyhow. Except tell everyone on my blog. I have a feeling I'm not going to hear the end of this one.

As you all know, my mom was in Florida last week on vacation. You also know that I was flooded out and had to stay at my grandma's earlier this week. And you know that I was attacked by my brother's insane cat about a month ago.

Are you still following? Good.

Soooooo, my brother's insane cat is staying in the other upstairs bedroom, which would be his if he ever came home. But he doesn't. Of course, you'll remember that she's insane because he left her in his apartment and didn't really take care of her. I'm still pretty afraid of her. You know, because she tried to kill me and all.

Did I mention my mom's computer is also in with the crazy kitty? And that my computer has no printer because it broke? Do you see where I'm going with this?

My mom has a meeting on the third Wednesday of every month. And she didn't get a chance to send the meeting reminders out before she left for Florida last week. So, I told her I would make them up and mail them for her. And every time I tried to go in the other room to feed the kitty or use the computer, she growled and hissed and lunged at me. So, I decided to wait until my brother came home to make the fliers.

Except my brother never came home before my mom did. So, I was going to do them Sunday and dropping them in the mail first thing Monday morning, figuring everyone would get the announcements by Tuesday morning. And then I'd follow up Monday night by calling and reminding everyone. Except then Sunday I got flooded and couldn't get home until Tuesday.

So, I totally forgot. Until this afternoon. So that meant it was too late to do anything. I probably should've told my mom, but I figured she'd kill me. And some people should show up. It's ALWAYS the third Wednesday of the month. And dad did put an advertisement on Channel 15, which is the cable news channel most people around here watch. I had meant to tell her that I hadn't done it the other day, but when she asked Dad said we had done it. (He meant put it on Channel 15.) So, she moved on to something else.

I'm just praying that folks show up so she doesn't kill me. My fingers are crossed... I feel absolutely awful, but obviously when I realized at 2 p.m. and the meeting was at 7:30, I was pretty much screwed.

So, now she can't go again...

We'll take lots of pictures for you, One4JC. We can e-mail them to you, just like someone did for me!

Are we out of the woods?

OK, here is my horoscope for today.

I know. I know...

Although you might have gone to sleep last night with too many responsibilities on your mind, the excitement has returned today. You may be feeling a sense of joy again. Celebrate this energetic shift by playing with friends, being creative or spending intimate time with someone who wants to have fun just like you.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

The one-week freak out

This time next week, I will have to have my car loaded up and ready to go so I can leave here by 7 a.m. to pick Rosalie up at the airport Wednesday morning.

I woke up this morning and realized that I am fat, with no chance of losing at least 40 pounds by next week.

Between being sick and flooded out, I've had no time to go tanning. I bought some Hawaiian Tropic (or was it Banana Boat?) tan accelerator, so I think I'm going to slather that on and try 10 minutes a day every day for the next week. That might help. I just don't want to be the whitest person in America.

I am thinking my cousin has no time to replace my windshield, so it might just have a crack in it. I am cleaning my car this weekend.

All of our tailgating supplies seem to be under control. I just need to get the stuff like the cooler, lawn chairs, etc. out of the garage and load it up next Tuesday. Everything that needed to be ordered has been ordered.

My room is a mess and since Rosalie is staying with me between Kentucky and the airport Sunday night, I really need to clean before I leave home.

I should also try to find something to wear. But seriously, no time to lose the 40 pounds?!?

And, of course, I woke up today and realized that I am nervous as hell. I am looking very forward to seeing my friends, but I am absolutely dreading embarrassing the hell out of myself in front of the boy of my dreams. I have run every bad scenario through my head, and I'm a bit frightened. Things seem fine, but I guess every time I get my hopes up, I knock them back down.

I guess I'm proud of myself for trying to do this. And I do honestly and truly understand that I have nothing to lose really (except, of course, for what little pride and self-esteem I have), with the posibility of everything to gain. And I guess that if I have to get completely and totally shot down by a boy I'm glad that my friends will be there to pick me up (although not sure I really want them to see it!).

But as much as I try to convince myself that it is his loss if nothing happens, I know that's just something we tell ourselves so we feel a little less shitty about getting rejected.

Maybe I won't get rejected. I guess the chances are just as good that I won't. I am just so hopeless when it comes to men. I don't know how to flirt, and I'm not particularly sexy. I'm just really worried that I'm going to look silly.

Oh, and did I mention that I'm pretty sure that I can't lose 40 pounds in a week?!?

I hope no one minds...I think I invited One4JC

She said she needed a vacation where her phone wouldn't work. This is Caneel Bay, another picture that magically appeared in my inbox...

Monday, March 13, 2006

Why does stuff like this never happen to me?!?

Note to self: Try to find apartment above a bar. And why is beer so expensive in Norway? That surprises me.

From the AP.

Woman Gets Beer From Her Kitchen Faucet

It almost seemed like a miracle to Haldis Gundersen when she turned on her kitchen faucet this weekend and found the water had turned into beer.

Two flights down, employees and customers at the Big Tower Bar were horrified when water poured out of the beer taps.

By an improbable feat of clumsy plumbing, someone at the bar in Kristiandsund, western Norway, had accidentally hooked the beer hoses to the water pipes for Gundersen's apartment.

"We had settled down for a cozy Saturday evening, had a nice dinner, and I was just going to clean up a little," Gundersen, 50, told The Associated Press by telephone Monday. "I turned on the kitchen faucet and beer came out."

However, Gundersen said the beer was flat and not tempting, even in a country where a half-liter (pint) can cost about 25 kroner ($3.75) in grocery stores.

Per Egil Myrvang, of the local beer distributor, said he helped bartenders reconnect the pipes by telephone.

"The water and beer pipes do touch each other, but you have to be really creative to connect them together," he told local newspapers.

Gundersen joked about having the pub send up free beer for her next party.

"But maybe it would be easier if they just invited me down for a beer," she said.

I rarely blog about sports...

And really this isn't about sports so much. It won't be long. I don't have too much to say.

My grandma listens to ESPN radio ALL THE TIME. Even when she's watching ESPN on TV. She loves sports.

So, since I'm still trapped here, I am listening to ESPN Radio ALL THE TIME. And today is a very shitty day for a Colts fan to be listening. I'd really like to pretend that Edgerrin James is not going anywhere. Surely he's just joking about leaving the Colts and going to Arizona.

But the guys on ESPN are not so much about letting me have the fantasy that the Edge will be there in August when the Colts gather for training camp.

Oh well, at least Peyton's not going anywhere.

Sunday, March 12, 2006

I wanted to be an Irish coffee too!!!

You Are a Frappacino

At your best, you are: fun loving, sweet, and modern

At your worst, you are: childish and over indulgent

You drink coffee when: you're craving something sweet

Your caffeine addiction level: low
What Kind of Coffee Are You?

Surprisingly cool day...

I didn't get much sleep last night. I am flooded out of my house and I am staying at my grandma's. She's 70-some years old and her house is easily 90 degrees. I'm seriously contemplating sleeping on the porch. Thank God I convinced her to get a wireless router a few months ago!!!

Today was great though. I only had two kids at my Sunday School class, but they did really well and we had fun.

I rushed home to grab my car so I could drive to this big, gorgeous, old Church to go to the Rite of Election with the Bishop. This is where he welcomes the folks who are getting baptized and confirmed at Easter into the church. Back in the "old days" the Bishop baptized everyone on Easter. Obviously that'd be a little hard these days, so he just has this ceremony and then people are baptized in their own church. I'd never been to it before, but it was a great ceremony.

Before I left home, my family joked about me going and breaking bread with the bishop. I think they meant it metaphorically. That's why it was hilarious when the bishop came over with his plate of food and asked if he could sit next to me. We are sitting there eating and chatting, and he says "I am getting really full, would you like to share this piece of bread with me?" So here I was, literally breaking bread with the bishop!!!

Unfortunately the ceremony was not without its glitches. In the past, Father has had "commitments" come up and has bailed on the ceremony and others had to be in charge without a clue. Well, this year Father came and he appointed ME to be in charge. Oh my goodness, I am glad we made it out alive.

The worst part? I think I am going to hell. I saw some guys who caught my eye at the ceremony. Unfortunately, the men I lusted over were named Fr. Hottie and Brother Cutie. OK, those aren't their names, but you see why that was a problem, right?

It's still raining and I might not ever get home again. I hope that I don't cook to death right here on Grandma's couch...

I have a solution!!!!

Since we all want to go down there whenever we want, let's all chip in and buy a house. Kind of like a timeshare. Sooooo...who has $6 million? It has a hot tub, tiki hut and private beach access. It's a real bargain!!!

Caribbean Countdown Photo of the Day...

Look! They've got my hammock waiting for me!!!!!!

I promised pictures from last night...

OK, just a few pictures to post from last night. I'm doing it in one post, but I just set up my photobucket to post photos directly to the blog. I'm thinking that'll be very handy for the Caribbean Countdown Photo of the Day!!!

But back to last night.

Here's Eric.

Here's two of Jason. I got some red-eye, and that sucks because his eyes are soooo gorgeous.

And lastly, me and the rhythm guitar player. I do believe his name is Danny. He's adorable, talented and nice. I wish I hadn't been gross and sweaty or maybe my "new" hair would look much better!

Saturday, March 11, 2006

Movie snacks...

Picture it. Denniston Cinema, early 1990s. I am pretty sure I was on a date. (I'm such a freaking prize.) Anyhow, I got this brilliant idea to have some Sour Patch Kids. In fact, I ate the entire movie-theater-sized box and they were so sour I had sores in my mouth by the time I was finished. Seriously, my mouth ached like a bitch. Wooohooo, what a sexy date I was, right?

Anyhow, it's been over a decade and I avoided Sour Patch Kids like the plague. I associated them with pain and trauma. I hadn't eaten them since that fateful day.

Well, when Amy and I roadtripped to Nashville a few weeks ago, guess what chewy treat she brought with her for our journey? Did you guess Sour Patch Kids? And I'm not sure why, but I decided to have a couple. And they were just as delicious as I remembered.

So tonight I went to the video store to return Walk the Line before I paid a weeks' wages for one of the kids working there, and I rented two new movies. (If you have not seen "In Her Shoes," go rent it. Now. I'm not kidding. Why are you still reading?) While I was there, I grabbed some Sour Patch Kids to eat while I was watching the movie. They're still tasty.

Of course, perhaps I didn't learn my lesson after last time. I ate the WHOLE bag ... in the car on the way home. At least their fat-free and my mouth only feels a little weird...

Concert reviews and confessions...

Wow, what an exciting evening I had. First I'll review the concert, and then I will share some observations from last night along with some of my hopes and dreams. Aren't you excited?

I hope this is coherent, because I firmly believe that I am knocking on death's door right now. You see, the show wasn't over until well after midnight. By the time we got done with saying hi to the guys and meeting up with one of Jackie's friends it was almost 1 a.m., and it took forever to get back to Jackie's house last night. So, as I tried to make it home last night, I ate to stay awake. The mini-muffins I bought at the gas station were OK, but why I tried to eat cheeseburgers at 3 a.m. is beyond me. Especially when I am on a strict diet. So, now I am deathly ill. I have been on the couch since 5:30 a.m, with no chances of leaving and being a productive citizen anytime soon.

Anyhow, I will spare you the tales of my distress here. On to the concert.

Last night we went to see Jason Aldean and local sensation, Eric Dove. We saw Jason in October and LOVED him, so we were looking forward to seeing him again. Originally we were supposed to see Jason last night and Chris Cagle tonight. However Jackie had to work and I am poor, so we aren't going to see Cagle tonight. I thought I'd be disappointed that we chose Jason over Chris, but frankly Jason never disappoints me.

We'll start with Eric. Oh, sweet Eric. We just love him. He is great. We got there early enough that we were pretty close to the stage and Eric was loving that we come to his shows enough that we know the words to his original songs. And he always does very fun covers. He kind of has that same vibe as Kenny in that you get the feeling that he'd much rather be in the Keys with a drink and his guitar than on a stage in freezing Ohio. Especially on songs like "Nobody Does Nothin' Better Than Me." If you go to his web site, you can hear clips of his original songs. (There are three full songs at his MySpace.) He's very talented and I always enjoy his shows. If my ass ever gets to Nashville, I've signed up to help Eric get a record deal so y'all can enjoy him as much as I do. He's absolutely great. Honestly, I'd have paid the $15 to see Eric even if Jason never hit the stage.

But lucky for me, Jason was there. And oh my goodness! how hot did he look! He was wearing one of those "softball-style" long sleeve t-shirts. It was an old Alabama tour shirt. Wowsers. I was worried that his set would be the same as last time, but it wasn't. He started with my absolute favorite song "You're the Love I Wanna Be In," so I felt like it might be a let-down. OK, how could I think that? Seriously, now. It was a great show, even better than last time. He added several songs from his CD (I think only two of them weren't in the set list). Plus he does a lot of covers. They played for a long time. The covers weren't exceedingly memorable, except that he did this tribute to Alabama. Of course, that made me a little sad because no one knew the words to their songs. Hell, I'm pretty sure most of the crowd wasn't alive when those songs came out. He ended with "Hicktown" and did "Sweet Home Alabama" for an encore. Let me just tell you he is the only person from Georgia I've ever seen with such HUGE love for the whole damn state of Alabama. I have expected him to break out in a "War Eagle!" or a "Roll Tide!" And this wannabe Volunteer is very glad that didn't happen. Mostly because there was a rabid contingent of fans from Georgia who were very drunk right behind me last night.

I think one of the things I love about Jason is that his band is just great. They really get into it. The lead guitarist looks like David Spade, so I pretty much call him that. I never understand Jason when he introduces him. I looked on the Internet, and I'm pretty sure what he's saying is "Kurt." Well anyhow, I like David Spade better. He is so much fun. But last night I rarely saw him without a drink and poor little guy was leaning up against a pole to keep his balance. But let me tell you, he puts a lot of fun into the show and can play the hell out of a guitar. (Why do people say that? Who put hell in the guitar? Maybe it was Robert Johnson.) However, it was the rhythm guitarist who caught my eye. Not only is he adorable (pictures to follow -- of him and me together! -- as soon as I find the cable for my camera!) but he is a great guitarist. Last time I was over on Jason and David Spade's side, so I totally missed this dude. But what a sweetheart. And I can safely say that until last night, I had never wanted to be a Les Paul before in my life...

So, I enjoyed the show last night, but General Admission sucks ass. Yeah, you can get close, which Jackie and I ALWAYS do, but people suck. Somedays I'd much rather sit in the rafters than deal with that stuff. Although maybe it's just because the show was at a bar and scary rednecks could drink whatever they wanted. And did. There were plenty of people who were beyond drunk half-way through Eric's set, so by the time Jason got out there, they were embarrassing and rude as hell. There was this one lady right up by the stage who was touching people and getting all in everyone's shit. This young guy (it was an 18+ show) decided to do a little dirty dancing with her in hopes she'd leave, but that just wound her up even more. She was probably in her 40s and wasn't a looker, but she really thought she had a chance with Eric. At one point she took his beer off the stage and refilled her glass. No shit. After the other night when the object of my affections got lambasted by a "fan" I was already feeling bad for these folks, but that gal cemented it. Eric needs Crazy Red-headed lady, Jason needs Rude-Ass Georgia Bitch (we're getting to her) and Kenny needs the folks he has. I was very nice to not name names, wasn't I? Although Kenny probably needs them less. But they buy CDs, they come to shows and I guess putting up with their crazy shit buys your boats and beach houses. Or sometimes just puts food on your table.

So, anyhow, this Crazy Red-headed Lady was so drunk that we were actually making fun of her and she didn't even notice. Like at least a dozen people, laughing our asses off, and she was oblivious. I was afraid that one of the girls she kept touching was going to punch her and we'd get caught in the crossfire. Seriously, it's a pressure cooker down there. And that's the last place you want to be with Rude-ass Georgia Bitch.

Rude-ass Georgia Bitch was this older gal from Georgia who drove all the way to Central Ohio (probably 9 hours at least) to see Jason. He's from Georgia. She kept reminding us of that. Loudly. She brought him a Dawgs hat. Or at least I think she did. She had this Georgia hat and kept holding it up. Jason pointed at it and asked for it early in the show and she told him no. Later on she decided she wanted to give it to him and tried to steamroll every other person in the bar to give it to him. That was pretty much her MO all night. She would try to push and claw her way closer to the stage, spilling her drink and pissing people off. When those of us who got there hours before her and, frankly, didn't really like her told her no, she'd get pissed and bitch about our lack of "Southern Hospitality." Frankly hon, I think my friends from Georgia, Tennessee, Alabama and Mississippi would still kick your ass if you tried that shit. She was the type -- you'll get this I hope -- with a fuzzy cell phone cover. She thought she was the shit and told us (loudly, again) about the time she "had sex with Keith Urban in her car." Yep, sure, sweetheart. If she did, it was when he was on the crack. That's all I have to say about that. I love the security guys at shows. God bless 'em, they earned their money last night. They had to tell her to stop recording at least four times. So I guess Kenny's not the only one cracking down on that.

There was also a gaggle of hot young things who so desperately wanted to be "in" with the band, and didn't seem to care who they got in with. They were all about Eric and Chico, and then all about all the boys in Jason's band. Seriously, I see that at every show I go to. I've even seen trashy trailer park moms dress their teenage daughters up and drop them off at a bus in hopes that Kenny and crew would notice them. Is it really that freaking cool to get a chance with some person who happens to play guitar for a living? These women make me lose faith for my entire gender. They make me embarrassed to be a woman, they make me embarrassed to be someone who enjoys concerts.

And mostly, they make me embarrassed about the current object of my affection. And I HATE that. I know I'm not a "band slut," "road whore" or whatever you want to call them. But unfortunately they precede me. I probably would've been a little more aggressive last year if it weren't for all of them. They are so caught up in the bullshit. They don't care WHO it is, as long as it happens so they can tell people shit like "I banged Keith Urban in my car." It's pathetic. But it makes these guys leery of every woman who shows interest. Everyone has an agenda, and rarely is it as pure-intentioned as mine. No one sees a guy, thinks he's cute and special (even when, apparently, others find him very unattractive) and wants to have more with him than 15 minutes on a bus. So, when that does happen, it's a lot harder. You wonder how you're supposed to even pursue something like this. Because you surely don't want to wait by the buses and be bunched in with "those girls."

Friday, March 10, 2006


Very rarely am I ashamed to be Catholic. But right now, I am very upset. I just read something that is not right, and I'm about to go off. You've been warned.

Catholic Charities in Boston has decided to end all adoption services because the Commonwealth of Massachusetts says they cannot discriminate against deserving same-sex couples.

This is wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

First of all, that is cutting off your nose to spite your face. I know lots of folks who have gotten their babies from Catholic Charities. I know folks who have also asked Catholic Charities to find a home for their babies rather than choose abortion. In the 20+ years that Catholic Charities has worked with the state, they've placed 720 children in deserving homes. Thirteen of those children were placed with same-sex couples. That's 1.8% if you were wondering.

So, let's not even look at the gay issue yet. I'll get there. Let's just say that it's the right and just thing to do, to take this adoption option away from not only deserving couples but from scared, unwed teenagers because 1.8% of the people who have adopted babies were gay. I know they say they are doing what they believe is right. The Vatican said in 2003 that it was a grave sin for gay couples to adopt. Let's assume for a minute that wasn't complete and total hooey. They want to be good Catholics and go with Rome on this one. And I'm sure Catholic Charities was being compensated for their services to the great Commonwealth. So they acted on principle.

Too bad their principles suck.

I think the church's recent return to hating and condemning gays has less to do with being gay and more about being embarrassed about molester priests. Too bad you don't have to be a priest nor gay to molest children. You just have to be a sick, twisted pervert. Let's stop clouding the issue.

And, of course, I think my biggest problem with this whole "being gay is a grave sin" or "you can be gay just don't expect us to acknowlege that you're even a human being with rights" attitude is that being gay is not anything most gay people can control. That's why it's called sexual orientation. It's genetic. No one wakes up one morning and says "Wow, my life doesn't suck and I'm not discriminated against enough. I think I'll go be gay." For most people I know who are gay, it's been a real struggle for them to come to terms with their identity. It took a while and a lot of denial to get to the point where they could accept whom they loved. And, of course, that struggle doesn't come anywhere close to ending when you realize you are gay. In fact, it's a rough road forever, because people are bigots and want to treat others like second-class citizens because of whom they love. And our country feeds it because asshole politicians make it an issue.

So, I have serious issues with the Chruch condemning gays and not giving them rights. Do you know what grave sins are? Denouncing God. Cheating on your spouse. Chopping your mom into bits and burying her in your back yard. Not adopting a 12-year-old girl addicted to crack that no one else has the balls to raise.

I believe God "makes" people gay. Not Satan. God. God creates us all. He gives us our genetic make-up. He puts our parents together to make us the people we are. And for churches to condemn folks because they're gay is not right. It'd be like if I go to church on Sunday and my priest tells me I am no longer welcome because my eyes are blue. I can't go out and get brown eyes. God gave me my blue eyes. I am a Child of God. We all are. Can't we start treating one another that way?

Normally at Eastertime I write a check to Catholic Charities. It's safe to say that won't be happening this year. And I know the issue isn't just Catholic Charities. I really need to pray about this. I need to talk to my priest about it. And for me right now, I need to focus on MY relationship with God and the importance of religious tradition and forget about the politics of it all...

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Just when I think it's safe to leave my little cave...

So, I've been hemming and hawing over this post. I wasn't going to say anything. But you know how people say if women didn't bitch their heads would explode? Well, that's kind of where I am right now.

Some people can be real assholes. And yeah, I don't think in this particular situation it was intentional, but it broke my heart a little. And it pissed me off a lot.

I was over in KennyLand this evening. Now I should know better than to stray from my little places in the world where my friends congregate. I know that some of my readers come from there, and I'm sure that most people there mean well. Really, I do. I even think the person I'm writing about means well. Some people are scary, but you'll have that anywhere. But generally my thoughts on the message boards there are way too many dominant personalities + way too much estrogen + way too many rednecks = pure disaster.

Well, today I saw a post that seemed interesting, so I decided to snark a little with some friends. We were having a good old time. My friend Leslie and I were joking about the yellow-haired boy and life was grand. If I had to guess, I'd say a good majority of KennyLand knows I have a crush on the yellow-haired boy, but very few of them know the details. That is not a bad thing. So, that's why I can't fault this person entirely for the way I was feeling.

Anyhow, we were all just joking along and this person I don't know very well asks the girls who we're talking about. (This happens a lot. Most people are there for the "main attraction" and know little about the guys.) Anyhow, she made another comment, but it wasn't anything to ruffle my feathers. So, we are just trucking along and this other girl posts some pictures from when she met him in Chicago. And I make some comment about how cute he looks in the picture and how I'm excited to see him in 13 days (OMG, 13 days!).

Then it goes south from there. This person I've never met before asks me if I'm "for real."

I'm dense sometimes, and I ask her what she means. She comes back with, "Seriously, are you attracted to this guy?"

I calmly respond "Yes," but I'm starting to get agitated. I think I made some snide remark about people liking Keith Urban and me not getting it. Well, she didn't let up. She said something like "No, seriously, you can let me in on the joke here."

It only stopped when this girl I don't really know (the one who posted the pics and probably felt like a shit that her friend was acting like this) says, "Dude, she's gonna kick your ass. Yes, she really likes him."

I wasn't going to kick anyone's ass. But I felt very sad and angry that someone would think that it was a joke that I thought this really awesome guy was attractive, kind, funny and sweet. Why would anyone joke like that? Maybe assholes I went to high school with. And seriously, use some common sense. You know, he can go there and read that shit. So, now not only are my feelings hurt, but if he saw that his feelings are going to be hurt too. Sonuvabitch. That made me mad.

Of course, my mind raced a mile a minute. Does he know my motives are true and that I think he's perfect just the way he is? (Mark Darcy in Bridget Jones. Best. Movie. Line. Ever.) I just wonder what people think. Not that it matters. I guess I need to develop a thick skin. But I realized yesterday that for this to work, I need to distance myself from about 99% of the fans over there. This just confirmed that for me.

One of my very good friends got to hear me very sad and pissed off about this. She said to be fair to that person, there's no way for her to know that I was serious about it. But even if I wasn't. Even if it were just a harmless "celebrity" crush (which most days I still think that's all it is and all it ever will be), he's still a person with feelings and here she is saying that someone would have to be goofing to find him attractive. Have I said "asshole" yet?

And besides, it's not like I'd look at a picture of her husband and reply to her saying, "Holy shit! Why'd you marry that guy? Seriously..." That's pretty much what she did.

So, I'm pretty much done with KennyLand. I'm going back to only interacting with a few chosen people. Seriously, I've got all the friends I need. She doesn't know me; she doesn't know him and she rushed to judgment. That's why I try not to leave my little area anyhow.

I was telling one of my very good friends tonight this story, and she told me: "I'll admit it, when you first told me you liked him, I didn't get it. But you know what? I met him and he's a doll and while I'm not attracted to him, I can totally see why you are and how great you two would be together."

That's the way it should be. And I know this person was nothing more than a screenname on the Internet, but let's treat one another like people instead of computers without feelings. Wouldn't life be a lot more pleasant if everyone did that?

So, the President wants to know what we're googling...

OK, I was going to go to bed, but I HAVE to share this.

I was just looking at my sitemeter for today, and I see that someone from stopped to visit. Back when I worked for The Congressman, meant "Executive Office of the President."

My first thought: Oh, shit. All those Dick Cheney jokes are catching up with me.

Second thought: Calm down, Laura. Probably just clicked on your profile from a comment you left over at Sparkle Pony's blog. They like the Condilicious humor there. Ok, maybe they don't like it, but they've been known to check it out.

So, rather than worry that the President or his henchmen were coming to search my house like that dude at Stanford that made the rude comment about Chelsea Clinton, I decided to click on the link and see what brought them to my humble home in the blogosphere.

Are you ready? Do you want to know what kind of major national security and domestic policy issues they are tackling at the White House today?

Someone in the Executive Office of the President googled Nick Hoffman, Kenny Chesney's oh-so-hot fiddler.

So what does the White House want with this guy?

Maybe they are giving him an award for his fiddling contributions to American society. Or maybe someone at the White House just has a thing for hot fiddlers from Minnesota. (If so, I also recommend Dan from Gretchen Wilson's band.) Oh yeah, and there's a lot more info on than there is here!

But while I have your attention, have I mentioned yet today that I'll get to see Nick and his boss and ALL his co-workers in 14 days?!?

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

There's nothing depressing about Tortola!!!

or Blue Margaritas.

Except one time this jackass at Applebee's who wasn't really paying attention while he was taking my order gave me something blue that was NOT a blue margarita. That was depressing. Then I drank it and I forgot how pissed off I was.

I hope this will be my last depressing post for a while...

It was the tiniest coffin I've ever seen.

It looked like one of those hard-sided American Tourister make-up cases you get when you buy a new set of luggage. Well, it didn't really look like that. It was just that size. But it seemed to be made out of marble. It was a teeny-tiny marble box.

Inside was the cutest little baby you ever did see. She looked a lot like her daddy. She had on an adorable yellow dress, probably something she'd have worn for Easter if she'd made it. And her daddy made sure she had a little white shawl to keep her arms warm in Heaven. Everyone said she looked like a little baby doll.

But she was a little girl and she went Home to sit on Jesus' lap. The minister did a good job. Rusty and Heidi are not Catholic, and some of the funerals I've been to in my life have been very interesting. I know that Catholicism isn't for everyone, but I like that you know exactly how things are going to go and there's no shocker in the service. Frankly, I've seen way too many ministers in my life spend less time remembering the person who passed away, and more time trying to add to his or her flock. I just don't think that's what a funeral is for, and it was nice that Tim didn't spend all his time proselytizing. Instead he focused on how we were all feeling and how we know that Raylinn is in Heaven now. We know that she had a purpose in life, and she has a purpose in Heaven. It was a great eulogy. I wish I'd had something to jot down all the Bible verses that he used, because they were excellent.

One thing that Tim did was that he reminded us all that life starts at conception, so Raylinn wasn't really 10 days old. And he thanked Rusty and Heidi for making that choice. It reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend recently. A friend of mine asked me for advice about a woman she knew (whom I've never met) who was considering abortion. This woman was Catholic; my friend is not. So I offered resources from the Church as well as my own personal thoughts for her to share. I also told my friend that we needed to pray hard-core that this woman would choose life. And my friend recently told me that this woman has decided to have her baby. They say there are cycles of life. So while Raylinn is up in Heaven, a new little baby will get a chance here on earth.

And so will Reiston. Heidi and Rusty were doing very well today, although we all shed many tears. My eyes and my nose hurt from crying. Rusty told me a few things about Raylinn's contributions in her short life. First of all, the doctors had never seen anything like this before. They were able to study her little body, and that knowledge will help other little babies in the future. Secondly, Reiston is most likely alive because of Raylinn. As I mentioned, they realized that she was sick before they were born, but the surgery was too risky to both babies to be done in the womb. The babies ended up being born early because Raylinn's situation was getting more precarious. But the doctors think if they hadn't delivered the babies last week that both Raylinn and Reiston, and quite possibly Heidi could've been in danger from the complications. So, truth be told, she probably saved her brother and her mom's lives. Not too bad for a little tiny baby, eh?

I think the saddest thing I saw today was my Uncle Al. I drove him home last night, and I wondered if he'd make it today. You see, 20 years ago in April, Uncle Al had a little baby who died when he was 4 hours old. Little Eric was born without a fully developed brain, and he never could've lived. From our conversation last night, I knew that he was not taking this very well with Raylinn. Some people weren't sure he'd make it to the funeral today. But he did show up, and he talked to Rusty for a really long time. He did not look well at all. I told everyone I was worried about him based on our conversation. The worst part, however, was when we got to the cemetery. My uncle and his wife got divorced a few years ago, and she had Eric's grave moved. Well, wouldn't you know who's buried about 10 feet from little Raylinn? Yep, I noticed my uncle fall to the ground in front of his tombstone, and my dad and my Uncle Dave were comforting him. He told my dad that it never gets easier, losing a child. Everyone decided that Eric and Raylinn are probably playing in Heaven. Although my cousin Brenda thinks that her dad, Uncle Leo, probably has them helping him do chores and riding on some of our ponies that are up there!

It was a very hard day. It was nice to see how many people took time off of work to be there. The funeral home was completely full. There were some people that I don't think have been in a church for years. I think we'll all be OK, and I know I feel a lot better after Tim's talk than I did this morning.

One4JC recommended this book to me in the comments the other day. I am going to get a copy for Heidi. It sounds like it will be really good.

I've written before about God talking to me through the radio, so I thought I'd share with you the songs I heard this evening when I went back to church for choir practice.

What Hurts the Most - Rascal Flatts
Tonight I Wanna Cry - Keith Urban
Holes in the Floor of Heaven - Steve Wariner
When I Get Where I'm Going - Brad Paisley and Dolly Parton

Seriously, I couldn't even make that up. And the weirdest thing? On the way to church I have to go over this HUGE hill. And the radio station that Brad and Dolly were on never comes in on the other side of the hill. Today it was still pretty good while that song was on.

But all in all, I did better than I thought I would. I did call Rosalie because I had to stop thinking for a while. Luckily she listened while I rambled on about exercise DVDs and which tanning lotion to buy at Walmart. I'm sure she knew exactly why I was calling...

Nothing like procrastinating...

It's not going away. I stayed up late last night. I've been having trouble sleeping lately. But I was up bright and early this morning and already hopped in the shower.

Yet I still procrastinate. I still haven't figured out what to wear since I never picked anything out last night. So, I'm sitting here in my robe blogging half-trying to find something to wear. Good job, Laura. I still have an hour before we have to leave anyhow. Plenty of time to get ready.

I'm also very sick to my stomach right now. I'm looking forward to going there and coming home and sleeping for a looooonnnnngggg time. That is, if I don't puke. I wonder if Luke will be here. I haven't had a chance to talk to him. At least I have fingernails. Luke probably chewed all his off. That's one habit I'm glad I wrote off the books. Occasionally if a nail breaks and there's an icky piece hanging there I might chew my nails to not be inconvenienced by it. But most days I'll file and paint the trainwreck that is my hands.

I just want to go back to bed. I can safely say that if I didn't have to take my dad today, I wouldn't be going at all.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Mental Health Day

I took a mental health day today. Since I'm not working, it was more a mental health day from life. The most challenging things I did today were buying all the stuff for the swag bags for our trip in 2 weeks, taking some packages to the post office, ordering a pizza and painting my fingernails.

I am thinking I'm going to lose it tomorrow morning. I am totally putting everything off. I have no idea what to wear. But you can't be like "F--- you, funeral! I'll show you, death. I have no clean clothes! I have no dish for the funeral luncheon! I'm just not dealing!" Because frankly, death does not care. It doesn't make it any less real. So, you end up going to the funeral in dirty wrinkled clothes and to the luncheon empty handed. There was no point in totally dogging what I needed to do. But now it is 12:30 in the morning, and if I don't get some sleep I'm really not going to be able to deal.

I am not sure when I'll be checking in again. I hope tomorrow. I hate to disappoint you, but frankly I just don't care about much right now. I think in addition to being pissed off that very good people have to bury a little baby tomorrow, I am not particularly happy that someone I considered to be a very good friend could not put aside petty bullshit to give me her condolences. That sucks ass. My friends have been absolutely great. I don't know what I'd do without them. Hell, strangers have been praying for me. And to have someone I'd do anything for not even acknowledge I'm hurting sucks ass.

If you go here, it should let you read the obituary if you're so inclined. For being 10 days old, it was a pretty nice write-up.

OK, I'm done bitching and feeling sorry for myself for today. See why I haven't been posting? Who wants to read that? Who wants to write it? Hell, I depress myself.

Wishing I were here right now...

And the song of the day, because for some reason I still believe in soulmates even though my give-a-damn is completely busted regarding life in general is "Yes" by Chad Brock. For those who don't know, this song is actually the song of how Chad and his wife met. Unfortunately after he made it big with this song, they got divorced. So maybe they weren't soulmates after all. I have no idea what Chad does these days...

Monday, March 06, 2006

Movie night!

So, I finally saw Walk the Line today. It was an adventure just to obtain the film, so I am glad that I wasn't disappointed. I figured that since the two-week freak-out is in full force that it might help to watch a film about soulmates. I am just hoping that we're not tortured soulmates who have a hard time getting together and I become a raging alcoholic. Although they do say good things come to those who wait...

I got goosebumps running up my spine when John listened to June Carter on that radio when he was 12 years old and told his brother how she was his favorite. Just watching them and how it was obviously there for both of them, but they were with other people. And they tried to do what was right, but they wanted love to work out so badly. It was moving. And it shows that if you're supposed to be together that ultimately you will be, no matter how hard you try to screw up God's plan. So really that should be comforting, right?

Anyhow, it was a great movie. And so what if I had to go to every store and video store in town before I finally found a copy that I could RENT. It was worth squaring up on all the old late fees to be able to see it.

I'd rather be here...

When I visited Gretchen in November, I realized the ocean can cure what ails ya. So, I'd rather be catching some rays in Chocolate Hole right now.

Everyone keeps asking how I'm doing...

I am hanging in there. I think I am just comfortably numb. I have to keep going on. What else can I do? Thank you to everyone who has been here for me. I appreciate more than you will ever know.

I guess the funeral is going to be on Wednesday. It's got to suck to be a parent and lose a child, no matter what their age or what the circumstances. Rusty and Heidi are doing unbelievably well, all things considered. They are tired, and they are sad, but a lot better than I think that I'd be in the same situation. Reeston got out of ICU today. I just hope he is going to be OK. I just can't think about little baby-sized coffins and all the flowers and the words that will be said. I just know we are going to be very sad. We already are.

And today, my dad was talking to my brother Luke who is very close to Rusty and was at the hospital yesterday. He said that Rusty was so sad because he can't understand why his baby was taken away when so many people who don't want babies can have them whenever they want. We have cousins who are like this. They are on drugs and have several kids with several men and they don't even want the babies, pawning them off on relatives. I guess there are some things we are not meant to understand...

For some reason, the song "God's Will" by Martina McBride popped into my head today. I am not a Martina McBride fan AT ALL, but it helped me to listen to it.

My mom and The Oscars

My mother doesn't watch movies. A few years ago she went with her church group to see The Passion of the Christ at the theater. Now that I think about it, she's probably gone to the movies twice this year. She has a group of friends who get together and go every once in a while. But nine times out of 10, she'd rather watch sports. She loves sports. She's fond of saying things like "Sandra Bullock? Who's she play for?"

However, my mom LOVES George Clooney. She watched ER when he was on it, and she liked it. We did have to remind her that if she faked an injury he wouldn't really be her doctor. Now that I think about it, George is probably why she watched The Oscars last night.

I didn't see any of the movies, so I didn't really care. Kenny's anorexic ex-wife didn't attend, so I had no one to make fun of. I did want Reese to win because I have a soft spot in my heart for "Walk the Line." I was very disappointed at the fact that it wasn't nominated for Best Picture, although it probably would've done me in if "Crash" had beaten it. Now, everyone tells me Crash is great, so I will have to check it out and see what I think.

The highlight of my evening watching The Oscars was when my mother, whom I didn't think knew Joaquin Phoenix from Jacques Cousteau, said "I can't believe he didn't win best actor. This guy from Capote is weird," as she walked out of the room and was done with The Oscars.

I tried to explain to her that in my years as The World's Biggest River Phoenix Fan (No joke. My friends called to make sure I was OK when he died.) that the Phoenixes will never get any Oscar love and we've all come to understand that.

Jon Stewart was freaking hilarious last night. Loved him. But I always do.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

What I need right now...

The best recipe for dealing with a really shitty day.

A hammock on White Bay, Jost Van Dyke.

A fruity rum drink. Or twelve.

A hot man with sunglasses. Who can play guitar when he's not feeding me pineapple.

Confession time...

I have a confession to make. (Admit it, you kind of think this is fun.)

I don't like to go to Confession.

I wonder if Fr. Jeff will read this one, because I could use some priestly expertise on this.

Since high school, where penance services were mandatory, I can count my visits to the Confessional on one hand. Actually, quite possibly one finger. I did allow Fr. Dan to hear my confession at one of our youth retreats at Subiaco a few years ago.

I think a big part of it is that no one really explained it to me when I made my first Reconciliation. Do you know that NO ONE ever taught me the Act of Contrition? I just learned it tonight at RCIA. Seriously. And I was thisclose to giving this confession thing a second chance until Father mentioned that before he absolves people he has them recite the Act of Contrition. Oh well, so much for that. Because there's no way I'm admitting that I'm almost 30 years old and never learned the Act of Contrition. Well, surely, I have time to memorize it. But, you see, I've never been sold on this whole Confession thing.

I just don't get it. Maybe it's because I was forced to do it in school. I guess I see their point on that, since it's apparently a very important sacrament. I'm thinking if I'm going to be a confirmation sponsor for a new Catholic that I should probably go. I do see the value in it. Honest I do. I just haven't ever been comfortable with going. It scares me. And the longer I go without going, the worse I feel about it. And it just gets bigger and bigger. I know some people dog me and tell me that I'm a bad Catholic because I believe in reproductive rights. But seriously, the fact that I don't go to Confession makes me feel like the worst Catholic ever.

Yet, I can't bring myself to go. I know I should go. But something about it really doesn't sit well with me. My guess is somewhere along the way I had a bad experience (aside from being forced to go when I was young). Not that I'm saying anything bad happened to me. Not at all.

I understand the rationale behind it. Maybe my only throw-back to the Protestants is that I think I can talk to God directly and He knows what's in my heart. But Reconciliation is good for us. I see the pros and cons.

But honestly, as much as I know I need to go, as much as I know this makes me a slightly shitty Catholic and I'm probably somewhat separated from God, I still don't particularly want to go. Not because I have something to hide. Not because I think I'm perfect. Not because I'd like to sin without consequence. Mostly because I don't even know where to start.

Well, I guess I do. But it gets a little fuzzy after "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..."

This post sucks. Really bad.

"I know God will not give me anything I can't handle, I just wish God didn't trust me so much." - Mother Teresa

Last night, when I couldn't sleep, I was talking to Julie about everything with the little baby, Raylinn. (I was totally butchering the spelling before.) Julie told me that God doesn't give any of us more than we can handle. I know that she is right, but I kind of feel like Mother Teresa. And I know that God must have great plans for Raylinn if He needed her in Heaven instead of here on earth. I just wish that all of that made it easier. Right now, it doesn't seem to.

I told you that when Raylinn took a turn for the worst last week, the doctor said that there was a 100% chance that she had brain damage. Her little body just started to shut down, and her organs were failing one by one. Yesterday Rusty told my dad her kidneys had shut down and she couldn't go to the bathroom and they knew she was feeling pain. They had detected problems with her liver. If Raylinn had made it, her life was going to be a very difficult one.

This morning the doctors told Rusty and Heidi that Raylinn wasn't going to get any better. She was in pain and there was little hope. And they had to make the hardest decision that they'll probably ever make in their lives. All the machines were stopped and the baby went to Heaven.

I know she's better off. I know that she has no pain now. I know that in Heaven she's a perfect little girl with no brain damage or failing organs. And that should make it easier. But I've never experienced a little, tiny, innocent baby dying, and this is very hard for me to wrap my feeble brain around. I know that it was selfish to want her to live the way she was. But I guess I just wanted God to fix her. Regardless, I hurt right now. I mostly ache for these two wonderful people who had to let their baby go.

I can't explain the sadness I feel. I'm just empty and numb. I'm thinking I'll run out of tears soon. Or at least I hope so, because this sucks.

Thank you for those who prayed. I prayed for God's will to be done and for Him to fill her with his healing power. I know that sometimes people are so sick that death is a blessing. That should comfort us. I ask that you continue to pray. Partly because while Reeston is bigger and stronger and he seems to be doing very well, he's still a very weak and fragile baby. Also, pray for Heidi and Rusty and the rest of our family, because this is so hard. We need all the prayers we can get. Today in Sunday School, we made prayer boxes. If I haven't told you all yet, my family was one of the founding families of our parish, and we still make up a good chunk of the church. So several of my little cousins are in my class. We all put Raylinn and Reeston in our prayer boxes. (We found out that she passed away after Sunday School.) We're all just torn up, even though deep down we know God is taking care of her.

I'll apologize in advance, because I know this post makes me sound like a blabbering idiot. But like I said yesterday, this is really just my online diary. And if I still had a paper diary, I'd be writing the same thing. Actually, I'd probably be using a lot more cusswords. Or maybe not, I'm not angry about this. I'm just incredibly sad.

Not really a photo...

I've been thinking for some time that adding bright, vibrant, Caribbean-themed colors to my home might improve my mood. And besides, I'm ready for a change. So, once I get settled and start decorating, my living room fabrics are going to be Waverly's Cabana Village and Marina Del Ray. And when I saw this art print, which comes from a web site of paintings from the islands, I decided that I will be buying this and putting it in my living room.

It's called St. Thomas Girls, and the artist's web site is here.

Saturday, March 04, 2006

Update on the baby...

It is still not looking good for the little baby. Toma had asked me if they had put both twins together because that is supposed to help. And they did do that. The little boy wasn't even at the same hospital because Raelyn had to be at Children's Hospital for her surgery and they can't deliver babies there (really, for cases like this you think they'd have a place where mommies could give birth), but they moved him over there. I guess he is still not out of the dark being only 3 pounds and some change. This is all very scary.

Even if Raelyn lives, which at this point will take a miracle, she most likely has brain damage from the other day. It is 1 a.m., and I should go to bed but at the same time, I was told to keep the phone where I could hear it in case we were called in the middle of the night. Part of me is scared to sleep.

It is so hard for me to understand why little babies could be so sick. Why God would give folks this wonderful miracle of life, only to rip it away a few days later? Why people like Heidi and Rusty who are going to be the most awesome parents ever might lose their little baby, when I see on the news things like an Amber Alert being issued because some lady strung out on meth kidnapped her baby from its court-appointed guardian.

This is very hard for me. First of all, I love Heidi and Rusty and welcomed Heidi into the family right away. We are very fortunate to have her in our lives. It is killing me that their babies are so sick and they just have to stand there helpless. Because every parent in the world I know will do anything in his or her power to make sure their kids are protected. Well, except for Amber Alert Meth Lady, but I only know her from the news.

Secondly, all joking aside, I truly believe that I didn't become a nun because I am supposed to have a family of some sort. And I really worry that I won't be a good parent as it is. It's scary to think that something bad can happen to your kids and there's nothing you can do about it. Really, I'm just not sure if I'll ever be properly equipped for parenting. Although it's sooooo not an issue right now and probably won't be anytime soon, that does really worry me.

Keep the prayers coming. And thank you so much. God bless!

The two-week freak-out

(and the first-date, second-base rule, just for CoffeeBigPlz)

OK, it's just about two weeks away, and I'm freaking out.

You see, I like this boy. (I know. You all read everyday, you're thinking "Duh! The yellow-haired boy!") Anyhow, the yellow-haired boy has a pretty crazy job. Pretty much he is the right-hand man of a very popular entertainer. An entertainer that my friends and I all adore. In fact, that is where I met the yellow-haired boy; at a concert last year. And I'm pretty sure the yellow-haired boy knows I have a crush on him because the night that I met him pretty much entailed me drooling on myself, turning 800 shades of red, stammering and then being so incapicitated that my lovely friend Gretchen had to take his picture for me. It was sexy, I'll tell ya.

Anyhow, the yellow-haired boy and I stared and smiled at each other last summer, but we are both pretty painfully shy apparently because our few conversations have been labored. Not because there's nothing to talk about, but because he seems to be a nervous talker who talks out his ass and rambles on about nothing and I, while that would normally be my usual role of "crazy talker," freeze up completely. I really can't get past thinking, "OMG the yellow-haired boy is on my phone and he sounds deliciously sexy" or "Why did he wear his glasses? I can't even think when that boy has his glasses on."

But I don't think we're doomed. The yellow-haired boy perks up and smiles like a little kid at Christmas when folks mention my name. And if you talk to most people who run into the yellow-haired boy at work, smiling is not high on his list of duties. He's paid to be the bad ass and run interference with the crazy fans, and he does his job very well.

So, he seems to like me. I KNOW I like him. Everytime we've tried to make it happen, something's happened that's precluded any type of romantic interlude. Like Cincinnati when we were waiting for him after the show and I went to get a Diet Dr. Pepper and realized my wallet was not in my purse. And while having carte blanche of the arena during the wallet recovery process should've aided the whole situation, I was so worried about my wallet that I couldn't even think about the fact that I was standing right next to one of his co-workers who could've easily radio'd his ass to come out and meet me. Hell, he probably would've helped me find my wallet.

I'm a mess when it comes to boys. I once pissed my then-boyfriend off for months because he was being coy about sleeping with me, I missed it and he thought I wasn't interested. He had a sleeping bag in his hand. He asked me where he was supposed to sleep. Every other guy I've dated wasn't a gentleman and it kinda went more like this: "Hey baby, let's screw." Seriously, note to all men who'd like to date me: attach it to an anvil and drop it on my head.

Anyhow, after almost a year of all the stare-downs with absolutely nothing happening, I figure that I can't do this for another year because that's dumb. Now don't get me wrong, whether he likes me or not, he's still nice to look at, his boss is still nice to look at and he's got this one co-worker...OK, I should shush about that. It's honestly not a big deal either way. But there were fireworks when we met. We both light up at the mention of the other's name. So why not just throw caution to the wind and see if there's a little bit of a love connection, right?

So, I'm going to be seeing him in 2 weeks and some change. Before the schedule came out, I told all my friends "If the first concert of the year is within driving distance, I am going there and I am making my move." Unfortunately, they've held me to that, and they're all coming along. Frankly, I could use the moral support.

So, it's a little more than 2 weeks. I've been off my diet (like seriously at this point, I'd need 2 years for folks not to notice I'm fat) because I've been sick. I haven't been tanning. I am seriously thinking I need to track down some Crest White Strips. But I do have good hair, and I can see again because my contacts are fixed.

Basically, it's almost two weeks and I'm freaking out. What do I say? What if he's somehow NOT interested? What if he tells the fiddle player and he points his bow at me and laughs like a hyena? What if he blows cigarette smoke in my face and has me escorted off the premises? Oh. My. Goodness. What am I thinking?

But my friends, especially those who have seen him look at me or interact with me or those who have talked to him, ALL assure me that he is just as nervous and interested as I am. Of course, that opens a whole new can of worms. What if he does agree to go out with me during a break in the action? What if we're alone? This is a guy I have a HUGE crush on. His boss had a HUGE crush and got married! How far is too far?

So, in my brain I have this thing called the "first-date/second-base rule." Basically this means that if the opportunity arises, I will go no further than second base. Apparently grown-ups (I haven't dated in a while, remember?) don't actually have bases, so I asked a much younger friend and she assures me that second base is the same and it's perfectly acceptable for a first date. So, that's what we're aiming for. I surely don't want to get caught up in the moment and make myself look trampy.

Of course, I have this odd suspicion that since I can't talk when I'm around him that all of this will just live in my brain. What that means in the long run remains to be seen. I guess we'll know in two weeks or so. Two weeks. Breathe. Relax. It's OK. Honest.