Just because I had 666 posts and that freaked me out!
| You Are Most Like Carrie! |
You're quirky, flirty, and every guy's perfect first date.
But can the guy in question live up to your romantic ideal?
It's tough for you to find the right match - you're more than a little picky.
Never fear... You've got a great group of friends and a
great closet of clothes, no matter what!
Romantic prediction: You'll fall for someone this year...
Totally different from any guy you've dated. |
And apparently everyone has not yet got the word...
Sometime next week I am starting a new job. It's not an exciting job, but it gets me out of the house and I'll be earning enough money to buy more booze so I can live up to this whole raging alcoholic rumor. Apparently my future employers didn't hear about it, so shush.
Just kidding, folks. Not about the job, but I still love the boozehound thing. Good times!
Oh, and if anyone saw me on Broadway last night with my celebratory "I have a job" bar tab, then you shush. And I'm still not an alcoholic. You tell me you can listen to an extremely hot man sing Keith Whitley and Merle Haggard covers all night without drinking whiskey. I'll bet you can't.
Anyhow, more on job stuff tomorrow. I'm going another round on my part-time job and I have a suspicion the story will end with me quitting, but I'm not quite positive yet.
Miss LJ's thought of the day...
Wouldn't you think if someone were excited to no longer being subjected to my "mindless chatter" that they wouldn't stop by my blog, which is obviously a place where such things are embraced?
There are people on earth's whose opinions don't matter to me. Sean Hannity, The President, Rascal Flatts ... the list goes on and on. I don't go to their web sites. Hell, I don't even know if they HAVE web sites.
Oh, and lastly. Always go with your gut. If something walks like a duck, talks like a duck...
No more of this Debbie Downer talk!
I need to get back to the positive and stop wallowing in the past. I've done what I can do, and that's all I can do.
I hope to have all kinds of positive things to tell you this evening. I'll bet you can't wait.
Until then, let's all think about Sunsets in Paradise...
Damned if I do, damned if I don't...
Sometimes I write things and they never get published here on the blog. I have written several things for the blog that have never made the final cut, for one reason or another. Perhaps that's what I should've done this morning.
Because the second that I posted that entry, I kind of wished I hadn't. Partly because I went about things all wrong, and partly because I acted in haste. I just went with my gut reaction instead of thinking things through. That's generally never a good thing. Had I put some more thought into it, maybe I'd have reacted differently.
I spent a lot of today thinking about that e-mail and what I was going to do about it. Even though my first thought was what y'all saw, the more I thought about it the more conflicted I was. I think part of the reason I got pissed was because I didn't know what to do -- there was no clear-cut answer.
A huge part of me wanted to go. It's hard not to miss someone you cared about so much. But I think that part of me thought that we'd pick up where we left off and everything would be OK. And honestly, that's why I'm so conflicted, because I doubt that can ever happen. Somedays I'd like to hear the other side of the story and see if maybe there is some middle ground, even though most days that seems absolutely hopeless. I just don't know whom or what to believe, and I'm so gun-shy about trusting people that it's not funny. There are plenty of days that I do think that maybe it'd be best to hash things out, so maybe I should've just accepted that offer. I guess I'm just sick of getting blind-sided.
I've been hurt so much. And it seems like whenever the hurting ends, something causes it to resurface. I wish I had the answers. I wish there were ever a time when I knew what the right answer was, but it's been a long time since I felt that way about this.
Apparently after my little rant the offer has been rescinded, so all of this is moot. Maybe deep down people do care about me, somehow, some way... So, yeah, in a way I was an asshole, and apparently I ended up hurting someone that I really thought didn't even care. That wasn't very nice of me. Especially because this last note seemed to be sincere. Well, another case of a day late and a dollar short, I guess.
And actually, just for the record, I'm a big fan of lattes...
There's always time for a quickie!
I had a late night last night, but I'm digging that I'm starting work at 11 a.m. for right now. Unfortunately, I need to work out my schedule with my other job, which has quickly become a nightmare. I didn't find out about this new temp job before she did this week's schedule and I am supposed to be there during the day today. I can't get there until this afternoon, so hopefully they won't be too pissy about it. And even if they are, oh well. I am planning to tell them today that I'll do whatever I can to help them with whatever they need done, but if my schedule is going to be an issue then they need to bump me down and just let me be a service desk person or whatever they want to do. I really do like working there, but honestly I'm happiest when I'm doing stuff like service desk and running a register. I really have no aspirations to be anything more exciting.
I got an interesting email last night, and I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do with it. I absolutely hate that I'm in a spot where I can't trust people. It sucks. I know I'm pretty much damned if I do, and damned if I don't. So I guess aside from this post, I am ignoring it. I just still feel the same way I felt a few weeks ago. There's no point in hashing things out, no reason to share points of view. I'm not going to say anything anyhow, for fear that it'll be used against me. And honestly, even though I rarely talk about it, there's nothing that any one of them can say that can ever make it better. Ever. Not that I really think that's the reason the invitation was made.
If I don't go, I am sure it will be said that a peace offering was made and I didn't accept it. If I did go, then I'm sure the first thing that will be said is that I go a year without talking to someone and they dangle free food and drinks in front of me and my raging alcoholic ass beats feet to get to the restaurant. See, I can't win.
I just don't understand how someone could read
this and think the appropriate response was to invite me out to dinner.
All I understand is that my heart has been broken too many times. And if I've learned nothing else lately, I've learned that I'm a big, giant retard to deliberately put myself in situations where I know I'll get hurt. So, nope.
Do I hate it? Do I hate that someone I once loved like a mother/sister/kooky aunt is going to be in town and I'm just ignoring it? You bet your ass I do. But I'm not the one who made it this way. At all.
Adventures in the Music City...
So, Alexis came to visit me on Saturday afternoon. Well, it was supposed to be afternoon, but Southwest was mean to her, so she didn't arrive until 8:15. We left the airport and headed straight downtown for drinking. I hesitate to y'all this so no one thinks I'm a raging alcoholic, but we had a lot of fun. My friend Ashley and her boyfriend Josh met us downtown. We went to Robert's, Legends, Crossroads and Full Moon Saloon. That was my first visit to Crossroads and I loved it. Oh, and we went to Jack's for dinner, but they forgot our cornbread, and we didn't have any carbs to soak up the booze. I danced with strange boys, but I think I managed to not make an ass of myself. Yay for that!
Sunday night was completely dead except that there were TONS of people at Lonnie's, which was hilarious because I'd decided I was going to sing a little. But I was relatively sober, Alexis was a whole lotta sober because she'd already drank JD and can't mix booze and beer and Lonnie's doesn't have a license for spirits. Anyhow, they never got to my turn, so we decided to see what else was going on, which was pretty much nothing.
But when we sat down at Legends, look what 45 was under the plexiglass on the bar RIGHT in front of me.
It's too bad that I didn't get singing time because I sang to Kay on the phone, and she said I did great. So, we'll save it for her berfday.
There was this chap who sang at Lonnie's who was quite blog-worthy. They called his name and he walks toward the front. I noticed the white palm-leaf hat right away. I turn to Alexis: Bet you 20 bucks I know what he's going to sing.
She looks at me and shakes her head. She won't take a sucker bet. Of course, she'd already noticed that he had a certain silver bracelet on his wrist.
His song? Keg in the Closet.
Funny thing is, I'm sure if he'd try to sound a little more like himself and less like Kenny, he might've done OK. But he sounded way too nasally because he was pretending to be the Pretty Princess.
Speaking of the Pretty Princess, I came up with a new nickname for him, but I totally stole it from
Anne's nickname for her boss. Anyhow, someone look at this picture and tell me that we shouldn't call him Sweet Ass. Really.
That's really it from KennyLand. Nothing else worth mentioning today. Not really, anyway...
Standby...
I am tired right now, but I do have things to say. So, they will come tomorrow.
I just wanted to let you know that I am alive and I will try to get y'all caught up very soon.
One more reason to be addicted to the Internet...
Have y'all heard of Fafarazzi?
It rocks.
You've heard of fantasy football/baseball/hockey, etc. You have a draft, you get a team and you compete against other teams and earn points based on how the guys on your team do. You can trade, put people on waivers and pick up new people. It's fun, apparently, if you like sports a lot. I was going to play fantasy football once but I think I was confused about what kind of fantasy, because everyone kept saying I couldn't have Peyton Manning, Joey Harrington and Tom Brady on the same team. (Just exactly whose fantasy was it, then?)
Anyhoo, Fafarazzi is a fantasy celebrity league.
You pick your favorite celebrities, have a draft and then you get points when your celebrities do crazy shit.
The person who came up with this? Pure genius.
The draft is done and the season has begun. Here's a little chart with my team. I think I did well, although I should've picked Matt LeBlanc because he got HUGE points for getting divorced and, of course, Pete Doherty is a train wreck. I'm just waiting for Clay Aiken to come out and for this whole Dog the Bounty Hunter thing to BLOW UP. And, of course, I tried to draft the Pretty Princess' ex-wife but I didn't get her. Then her ass had to go sleep with George Clooney and get points.
[This is where my team would go in a cool little chart if Fafarazzi's cheap piece of shit code didn't have tags that I can't figure out how to close. Oh well. I'll just make a list that's totally boring instead.]
My team:
Madonna
Nick Lachey (who got points for NOT sleeping with Lindsay Lohan. What's that say, really?)
Clay Aiken
Lance Armstrong
Keira Knightley
Tara Reid
Denise Richards
David Spade
Mario Lopez (I'm hoping I'll get some points for this Dancing with the Stars thing. Or maybe he'll bang Eva Longoria while Tony Parker's not looking. Again.)
Duane "Dog" Chapman (he's in jail! How's that not worth points?!)
It's fun. You should all try it. It gives a little more purpose to our disturbing fascination with celebrities.
Rewind...
I just realized that I had all this drama with my note with no words, and I never did tell you how the story ends.
Well, that's probably partly because I don't know the ending yet. But here's an update.
Finally words appeared. Two short, sweet paragraphs. The envelope was sealed, and then addressed. A stamp was purchased. The note went plop into the mailbox. Kay went with me for moral support, although the mail clerk thinks I'm a NUTTO.
But, my stamps have quilts on them. So there.
My work here is done. Now I just sit patiently and wait for the cops to arrive, I guess...
On the plus side, Alexis is coming to visit Saturday and she keeps talking of whiskey and Honkytonk Lemonades. It'll be nice to see Bobby. I've been neglecting him lately. Have I mentioned lately that I love going Honkytonkin', even though I suspect we're not ever leaving the corner of 5th and Broadway.
So the Pretty Princess has a new CD...
OK, I finally got my copy of the Pretty Princess' new CD. It's fun. It's live. It's a lot of good memories. It would've been perfect to have had before I dragged the Fort Wayne girls along for the ride Labor Day weekend. Because you can listen to it and get what his shows are like. To a tee.
That being said, it's not going to win any Grammies. One thing I've always said about the Pretty Princess (and I LOVE him, so don't leave me nasty comments!) is that he may not be the most talented songwriter in Nashville, he may not be the best guitarist, but he works harder than anyone else in this town. That's why he's successful. And this live CD proves it. He's having fun and he's working hard. And his voice IS unique. You never hear his new song and wonder if he's singing it or some other "Hat Act." Honestly, that's what drew me to him all those years ago.
This probably wasn't the best CD to get so soon after retiring. Perhaps I can be talked out of it? I seriously doubt it. Although Kay did say she's dragging my ass to a Keg show because they don't count. I have only agreed to go because they are in bars and there will be plenty of whiskey for me.
My favorite songs on the CD are the songs that have always been my favorite live: How Forever Feels and Tractor. And I'd just like to say that the only thing worse than air guitar might be air fiddle. Not that I do it. But if I did, it'd be mighty silly. I also liked "On the Coast of Somewhere Beautiful," which I've never managed to hear live. It's just such a haunting song, and the CD doesn't do it justice. Or maybe it was just the Princess' tight white top he wore to sing it last night on Leno. I don't normally think he's hot, but I just wanted to kidnap his scrawny little ass and force him to be my love slave. Hot freaking damn.
So, I listen and I roll right down memory lane, which I do believe is the purpose of this CD. This from the man who brought us "I Go Back."
It's an appropriate soundtrack for Day One of the
Prove to Me You're Not a Dick Countdown, BUT the song of the day is "Innocence" by Sarah Buxton. Just cause I like it and it would've been yesterday's if I hadn't been lazy. I'll talk more about Sarah later. You'll love her!
The solution...
So, to solve my writer's block problem, I did the most obvious thing.
I bought new stationery. I got the cutest little striped notecards at Target.
Do I know what's going inside? Well, no. Not really. Not at all, actually.
That's a lie. I have a few ideas. It'll just change 800 times before I pick up the pen.
Sometimes letters are the only way to say something, to rebuild the bridge. And honestly, we spend so much time e-mailing, texting, blogging, calling people that none of us know how to write. My penmanship is absolutely atrocious these days, and that pisses me off a little.
But I will try. Either it works or it doesn't, right?
I was going to say "no big deal," but it IS a big deal. Or at least I hope it is. We will see...
And who knows? Maybe some of you will get a note on my really cool new notecards.
Maybe I'll dream of this tonight...
Nighty-night, y'all.
Stupid blog quizzes: An insomniac's best friend!
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Very interesting...
I stole this from
Andrea...
Intimidating...
How can a little piece of note paper cause so much fear?
It's sat on my desk for two days now, waiting for me to find the words.
I'm a writer; they should come easily. But I wait, and they never arrive. I don't know where to start. I don't know how it ends.
Maybe that's the problem. If I knew the ending, it'd be easier to find the beginning.
Six inches by ten, yet I'm fearful. Intimidated by some wood pulp and ink.
What to say? Where to go?
I know what I need to do. I just don't know how to do it. I know what needs to be said, I just don't know how I'm supposed to say it.
Song of the day:
Blank Sheet of Paper by Tim McGraw.
Grandma's Words of Wisdom...
My Grandma is very wise for her 74 years. She gave me these pieces of advice.
1. When you argue with a fool, two fools are arguing.
2. When you assume, you make an ass out of u and me.
These are not as wise, but entertaining:
3. Never eat yellow snow.
4. Don't sit on cold, wet concrete (because it will give you hemmorhoids).
My other grandma died when I was 7 years old. She also gave me some wise advice.
1. Never do anything you wouldn't the Virgin Mary to see.
2. If you eat the last of the Planters Cheese Balls, don't put the empty canister back in the cupboard.
I'm going to follow my grandma's advice. Assumptions just hurt people and make you look foolish. And there's no point in trying to have a battle of wits with someone who's ill-equipped.
And seriously, I try hard to be a good Christian, and that's all I can do. Instead of stooping to others' levels, I'll just continue to pray that God gives the strength, courage and knowledge they need to move on.
With that, I shall reopen my blog to the public. God bless you all.
The eternal debate...
So, stupid new beta blogger with privacy settings is blocking out my real, legitimate friends from seeing my blog. This is an issue. At the same time, I am really digging the peace that I receive by not having crazy-ass Internet stalkers. I guess they still stalk me on MySpace, at least as best they can with my profile set to private.
There have been days that I've debated just chucking all the usernames, profiles, etc. and starting all over with a fresh slate. However, then I realize that would require me to reinvent more than a user name; I'd have to alter my reality. I can't do that. I don't have the energy to sit around and think up a flashy story to make my life different than what's really happening. I think that's why I really couldn't fathom all the shit with the Pretty Princess' "secret girlfriend" last year. I just couldn't imagine sitting around and dreaming up little scenarios when there's so much real life to be lived. And it has to be exhausting. I KNOW that I'd trip up on the little details, even if I decided to become "Sally" or something. And besides, let's look at this realistically:
I shouldn't have to disappear into thin air and reinvent myself because other people lied.
That's ridiculous.
So, I don't know what I'm going to do. Beth turned me on to a program that allows you to block commenters' IP addresses, but it can't block them from reading. That's the problem here. I always feel guarded. My words are turned and twisted and accusations are made. It doesn't really affect me that much, I just really want to help them move on. All the anger can't be healthy. And the lies DO need to stop. Not just about me, but about everything. They need to leave my friends alone. That's why my MySpace is private now, because they were harrassing my friends.
Really, it's bad enough that they steamrolled me and treated me the way they did, but I've been over it for years. I made my peace with God and I still continue to pray for them to this day. They need (and deserve) healing and closure, because they obviously don't have it yet. They, in turn, spend every waking minute of their day tracking me like an elephant on safari and trying to convince all my friends that I'm this evil person incapable of telling the truth.
I don't get it. I doubt I ever will.
And after reading this post, I have a feeling that someone will be returning publicly to the blogosphere sometime soon.
Oh, and the last time someone thought he'd stalk and bully me on the Internet I made a little call to his local police department and they took care of it.
Just saying, that's all...
I needs me spinach!!!!!
But I won't eat it out of a can like Popeye, which is apparently the problem.
Last week I bought this bag of fresh spinach. And life was grand. I was getting greens at every meal because it's easy to put fresh spinach in a pita, salad, etc.
And then last week people started dying and getting sick from e. coli in their spinach. And there's no way to get it off. And the FDA said, "If you have a bag of fresh spinach, throw it out." And sometimes I won't worry. Hell, I had a burger at Jack in the Box the other day and I hadn't done that since they killed people a few years ago. But all of the e. coli from the spinach has been in Ohio and Kentucky. You can't tell me that we here in Tennessee aren't getting spinach from the same fields.
So, in the trash my spinach went. And now the FDA says that the problem is all fresh spinach, not just the pre-packaged bags. I guess I'll just switch to spring mix and romaine until they get it all figured out. It just kind of makes me sad.
I was going to make some spinach dip, so I guess I'll do that before they tell me not to eat frozen spinach, too.
Who knew someone could write a big, long post about a bag of spinach. Only me, I guess.
In a random and totally unrelated note (although it does deal with food), have you ever really thought how food engineers sit around and make a cup of yogurt taste just like a cup of coffee?
One more thing I hate about work...
I am missing the Vols game tonight. The biggest game of the year and I have to work.
No siree, Bob. I am NOT a happy camper.
And I'm a big ol' Gator Hater. I'll admit it.
GO BIG ORANGE!!!!!
The work post...
Recently, I was accused of being a raging alcoholic who was incapable of holding down a job. That, of course, is BS, considering that I've only been drunk twice in the last six months. I'd think I'd have to try a little harder if I were a raging alcoholic, don't you?
The reason I mentioned that was because I'm beginning to wonder if work might be more tolerable if any part of me thought it was a good idea to drink to the point of numbness before I got there. But I don't. How would I even get there? I know this would be hard for someone who can't find Cool Springs to understand, but it'd be expensive to take a cab from Downtown everyday. And even more expensive to get a DUI...
So being drunk at work's out. Hmmmmmm... Well, let me tell the story.
Remember way back when I had the interview to be a district special events manager for a major retail chain? Well, obviously I didn't get that job, but they offered me the same position at the store level. Enter Cool Springs. And I figured that it'd be fine as long as the one person who was a total jack ass and highly unqualified from the group interview were not the person who got the district position.
Do you all appreciate the irony yet?
Anyhow, I'd always intended to work retail to help pay the bills while I was temping. I have no problem with it. I figured that I would pick up 20 hours a week or so and it'd pay for things like the light bill and life would be grand.
Except my "part-time" job expects me to be available 24/7 and live and die for them. And honestly, I've gotten to the point (when the manager handed me a 3-page to-do list for a four-hour shift) where I've realized that I'd really just like to be a mindless peon that runs the service desk. I don't want to be management. I don't aspire to be in retail forever. I just want to do it now to pay the bills. And once I get a "real" job, I want to do it to pay for my trip next fall. It'd be nice to have "mad money," and right now the only way I'll have that is with a second job. And actually right now it's not even "mad money," unless not being able to eat makes you mad. (It does, actually...)
So, MY plan was always to keep my days free for temp work and do retail in the evenings. I was honest and straight-forward with the district HR person when she recruited me. Since I got there, I have turned down two very good temp jobs. And every time I struggle to figure out where the car payment or the rent is coming from, I get really pissed off about that.
There are plenty of retail jobs out there. And yes, I like my job. And it does make logical sense for a PR person to do special events for a major retail chain. But it doesn't make sense for me to think I can live on $360 a week before taxes. Just for your knowledge of how little money that is, I talked to the student loan people this week and I don't have to pay my loans for a year because I don't meet their poverty threshhold. So that's good because that's one less bill. But bad because I'm so fucking poor I can't pay attention.
All I know is if I EVER ask my mother's sister to borrow rent money again, she said she is coming here with her truck and dragging my ass back to Ohio. And I'm not leaving Nashville.
I am trying to implement my plan. For the most part, I am doing OK with it. This is just a huge hiccup. And I didn't even mention the part about being jerked around by everyone, including that jack ass who beat me out in the group interview. (You KNEW he was the one who got the job. It couldn't have been the other folks...)
So, I'm frustrated with my job. Every day I go in there wondering if that'll be the day when I go to lunch and never come back. So far it hasn't happened, but the potential is definitely there...
Anyone else ready for Thursday?
Which Grey's Anatomy Character Are You?
You are Christina Yang. You are incredibly determined and very blunt... yet somehow very likable
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It's a rare sports post!!!
I don't write much about sports. Most of it doesn't matter to me. I like to watch my Volunteers on Saturdays and my Colts on Sundays. I haven't really gotten back into hockey since the strike. Most of the time I just watch sports because the spirit moves me. Rarely do I really have any type of opinion or allegiance. (Except for the unfailing support that all Detroiters have for the home teams, regardless of performance. Why else would anyone spend a Sunday in Honolulu Blue?)
Pretty much aside from my lament on the dirty deal Pete Rose has gotten and why Cooperstown will always be a mockery of America's past-time until he's inducted in the Hall and my firm belief that Coach K should never leave Duke and go to the NBA -- or anywhere else, really, I don't really care about much off the playing field. I don't watch SportsCenter religiously or read most sports columnists.
But I do have an opinion -- and a strong one at that -- regarding NCAA eligibility. And it's not even uninformed like most of my sports' opinions. (The Pete Rose and Coach K things are like 95% passion and 5% knowledge. I'll admit it.)
And since this whole Reggie Bush thing is hitting the fan, I'll use this as an opportunity to get on my soap box for just a second. Agree with me or not, I've put some thought into this and I'm not just pulling it out of my ass. You see, when I was in Detroit, I religiously read and listened to Mitch Albom every day. I love Mitch Albom. He is the writer that I would like to be in my dreams. He's written fiction, non-fiction, built this awesome career for himself. Mitch rocks.
You might remember that Mitch wrote a book about Chris Webber and the rest of the Fab Five from Michigan. You might also remember that Chris Webber took money and gifts during his high school and college career and caused the University of Michigan to face years -- and thousands of dollars -- worth of sanctions. And when it hit the fan with Chris, Mitch was called in as part of the investigation. And after listening to his radio show every day, I learned more than I ever needed to know about NCAA eligibility.
First of all, I'd like to say that this is most likely a problem at every school. And I want to say that the excesses of abuse that Chris Webber committed or what Reggie Bush is being investigated for are probably not the norm. They aren't the folks that I'm worried about as much. There will always be rule-breakers, regardless of how strict or lenient the rules are. Those who break the rules, especially those who go on to make the zillions of dollars that Chris Webber's made, should be financially obligated to their schools if their actions cause fines or the loss of scholarships.
Schools make money off college athletics. Don't think for a minute they don't. If they didn't, I could go to a Tennessee football game for $10 and get a $1 hot dog while I was there. I can't. And we won't even talk about the money they get from ESPN, ABC, etc. to broadcast their games.
So let's look at this: Schools get ticket sales, concession sales, merchandise sales and licensing fees, television royalties and money from athletic boosters.
And they use this money to run the best sports program they can so they can get more revenue. They use the money for scholarships to get the best players and pay the salaries of the best coaching staffs. They probably use some of the money to buy equipment, but a lot of that is donated by their corporate sponsors, too. I'm sure insurance premiums are high, but that's not too much.
So, they have these players. The players do their sport and they get to go to college and live on-campus for free. Some of them go to classes and get degrees (see my Coach K reference above) and some are just on the rolls and are just majoring in football/basketball/track, etc.
To sum up NCAA eligibility rules, players can make no money while they are in school and a small stipend for something like a summer internship (around a couple grand). Now you have your players like Webber who have some booster floating his bills and then you'll have most of your honest students who are so broke they can't afford pencils and gas for their cars. And no one can give it to them. Many former college athletes say if they could do it over again they wouldn't. Free tuition is nice, but a lot of good it does you if you can't buy aspirin if you get a headache.
I'm sure it's also very tempting for a student who's flat-ass broke to break the rules. You can't even afford Top Ramen and here comes Mr. Booster in his university sweater and his golden checkbook. Why not? Who's it really going to hurt?
The schools are making money off these students. Lots of money. I think the NCAA should make collegiate athletics a work-study program. I know that the $80/week I got on work-study really made a difference in my college career. Thank goodness I gave up on volleyball in middle school, eh? It wouldn't hurt the sanctity of college athletics by letting students receive a small stipend for the service and value they provide to the school. Because most kids would just take their $80, buy pencils, aspirin, gas and Top Ramen and go on their happy way.
Those who live in excess or take advantage of the situation, like it appears that Reggie Bush may have done, should still be punished to the full extent of the law. Especially as long as students have the ability to go to the pros at any time. If you're that good and you need money, then go to the draft and see what happens.
I just feel like all benefit from excellent college athletes. God knows Neyland Stadium wouldn't be filled with 100,000+ people every week if the Vols couldn't field a team. So if we all benefit, part of our money should go back to the students. They don't need million-dollar pro contracts; just give everyone a flat-fee, across the nation, work-study stipend. Hell, the federal government probably even has education grants to pay for it. I'm pretty sure that's where my work-study money came from...
Random Thought of the Day...
When I was in high school -- right after I got my license -- I liked this guy but I couldn't figure out how to tell him.
So I drove by his house
a few times hoping he'd see me and flag me down. Then we could talk and he'd fall madly in love with me. (Because everyone does when they talk to me, you know. I'm irresistible.)
Looking back it was kind of odd and I'm pretty lucky he didn't call the cops.
I'm just saying, that's all...
Some things are just too creepy...
Most of you know about my love (yes, it's shocking. I know...) of the new SugarLand song "Want To." I feel like it just makes sense and it very much reminds me of someone.
Anyhow, I saw the video and now I'm creeped out. It really hits too close to home.
Go watch. Now that we're all friends here, most of you will get exactly why I was floored when I saw it for the first time.
SugarLand video page
R.I.P. Governor Richards
"Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, only backwards and in high heels."
I just learned of the passing of Governor Ann Richards of Texas. Unfortunately I wasn't related to this phenomenal woman. (People ALWAYS used to ask me that when I worked for the Dems.) She was a feisty gal who didn't mince her words. Unfortunately her assertive attitude and standing up for her principles probably cost her re-election.
Ann Richards should be an inspiration to women everywhere, a role model for young girls. As someone working in politics, she was someone I'd admired very much.
Her
obituary by The Associated Press says it so much better than I ever could.
God speed, Good Governor.
Interview
I hadn't given an update from yesterday's interview.
I thought it went well. The position sounded great, it seemed like we were getting along well. She seemed impressed with my skills.
She even said that. I had the right skills and "impressive" qualifications. But then she said that she figured she'd just know it when she met the right person. Soooo, I'm assuming that means I am NOT the right person. But I don't think the door's closed. I think that if she doesn't find the "right" person that I'm still in the running.
So, the thank-you notes have been sent and the wait continues...
I have another interview tomorrow. Is it my dream job? Nope. Would it pay the bills? Yeah, it would. I wouldn't be living high on the hog, but I'd be OK. So, maybe that'll work out for me.
Because something has to. I'm at the end of the rope with my current job. I told them today that I wasn't sure if I'd be staying. I've been applying at other places. I love my work, but unfortunately I can't make my bills unless I work two jobs and they have not been accommodating at all with my schedule. Surely I'll find someone in this town who needs someone to cover the evening shift for them, right?
Post-pourri
I have a whole bunch of random thoughts in my head.
Did you notice that I completely avoided September 11th the other day? I did. For many reasons. I had issues way back then and I have issues now. I will stop long enough to gripe that some people have made a huge national tragedy into an issue to further their agenda. Not that I'm saying either side is less guilty of that, but it is not something that needs to be politicized or used for political gain, by anyone. I am not getting into it regarding our current military action. Most of you know where I stand on it. And regardless of where I stand, I absolutely detest how anyone who is "against" the war is anti-American, pro-terrorism, etc. I don't think there's anyone who thinks terrorism is good or hates America. And being pro-troops means a lot of things to a lot of people. And that just proves my point as to why I didn't write any type of touchy-feely post on Sept. 11. All I really remember about that time was that the media coverage was non-stop on every channel for weeks and three weeks after the attacks I unplugged my TV because I was having horrible nightmares.
Actually, I'm going to describe one to you. It was very odd, but it was so realistic that I actually woke up in a cold sweat and didn't sleep for two days after that. Basically, the gist of it was that my grandma and I had gone to Washington, D.C., on a trip. We were in a government building off The Mall, I think the National Archives. Anyhow, there was a terrorist attack and my grandma was in a wheelchair and I had to get her to safety. I asked several people to help me, and finally Bill Clinton threw her over his shoulder and carried her to safety. I know that sounds absurd, but this dream was very realistic. I can remember the scenes of horror and carnage like it was yesterday.
Since that day, I've pretty much blocked 9-11 out of my mind. I'm sure some would think that makes me a cruel and heartless bitch, but that's not the case at all. And I did pay attention to it all when the book
Love, Greg & Lauren came out. It was amazing and I rushed to my library right away to read that inspirational tale.
Let's see. What else did I notice today?
The VA says that there's no such thing as Gulf War syndrome. When I think about how many men and women I've met who served in the Gulf War and now have problems relating to their service, I'm suspecting that the VA is just trying to cut costs somewhere. Once again, our veterans get the shaft.
Speaking of getting the shaft, I want to talk for a teeny-tiny second about trade unions. I read a bit on the Detroit teachers' strike. I am sorry to those who do not agree, but I think there is a place for organized labor. And I do not think that the government, a judge, etc. should be able to force striking workers to go back to work unless the strike is causing some type of imminent danger. I believe that as long as we allow that to happen, it erodes the purpose of a strike. I think about the early unions and all the good that they've done for people. Workers deserve a fair wage and a safe place to work. I just imagine how things might've been different if the Sago Mine had been unionized. Surely, the owners of the mine wouldn't have called the only survivor a liar because he said their safety equipment didn't work.
There was other news for the Post-pourri, but I'll be damned if I know what it is right now. I'll post it if I remember it. I guess really this was just some crazy leftist rant.
But really, would you expect any less?
Why not?!
Q: WHAT MADE YOU SMILE YESTERDAY?
A. Hmmmm...I'm not sure anything did. Oh wait, a little boy cussed at work and I couldn't help it.
Q: WHAT WERE YOU DOING AT 8 THIS MORNING?
A: At work eating a pop tart.
Q: WHAT WERE YOU DOING 15 MINUTES AGO?
A: Watching the news
Q: SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED TO YOU IN 1995?
A: I went to my first Kappa Phi convention.
Q: LAST THING YOU SAID ALOUD?
A: People need to learn to schedule around Tennessee football.
Q: HOW MANY DIFFERENT THINGS DID YOU DRINK TODAY?
A: Just water -- I'm so good.
Q: WHAT COLOR IS YOUR TOOTHBRUSH?
A: white
Q: WHAT IS OUT YOUR BACK DOOR?
A: where we park our cars and the backyard
Q: LAST THING YOU BOUGHT?
A: groceries at Super Wal-mart
Q: LAST GIFT YOU RECEIVED FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY?
A: Alexis bought me lunch at Abuelo's
Q: WHAT COLOR IS YOUR FRONT DOOR?
A: This might sound dumb but we never use it and I'm not sure. Wood, I think.
Q: WHERE DO YOU KEEP YOUR CHANGE?
A: Where don't I keep my change?
Q: WHAT'S THE WEATHER LIKE TODAY?
A: rainy and gloomy
Q: BEST ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
A: Purity O'Charley's Caramel Pie or Moosic City Madness. (And there's always a soft spot in my heart for Mackinac Island Fudge)
Q: LAST RAINBOW YOU SAW?
A: Oooh, when I worked downtown on the 15th floor of an office building. It looked like we could reach out and touch it.
Q: DO YOU HAVE ANY SISTERS?
A: Not biologically
Q: ARE YOU VERY RANDOM?
A: Just a little...
Q: DO YOU WANT TO CUT YOUR HAIR?
A: Maybe
Q: ARE YOU OVER THE AGE OF 25?
A: yep
Q: DO YOU TALK A LOT?
A: Nah, not me.
Q: DO YOU WATCH THE OC?
A: Nope
Q: DOES YOUR SCREEN NAME HAVE AN '' X '' IN IT?
A: Seriously, who does that
Q: DO YOU KNOW ANYONE CALLED STEVE?
A: yes
Q: DO YOU MAKE UP YOUR OWN WORDS?
A: not really
Q: ARE YOU TICKLISH?
A: YES
Q: DO YOU CHEW ON YOUR STRAWS?
A: No, but I take all the straw papers on the table and make shit out of them.
Q: DO YOU HAVE CURLY HAIR?
A: No
Q: WHAT IS THE NEXT CONCERT YOU'RE GOING TO?
A: My guess would be Bobby at the Second Fiddle
Q: WHO IS THE COOLEST PERSON IN YOUR LIFE?
A: Everyone's pretty cool. I can't choose.
Q: WHAT IS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
A: Stupid brownies
Q: DO YOU WATCH TV?
A: not nearly enough
Q: DO YOU HAVE WORK TOMORROW?
A: everyday
Q: EVER BEEN HUNTING?
A: no
Q: IS MARRIAGE IN YOUR FUTURE?
A: Ask me again tomorrow
Q: WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SAID "I LOVE YOU" AND MEANT IT?
A: Yesterday
Q: WHAT SHOULD YOU BE DOING RIGHT NOW?
A: laundry, sleeping or sending emails
Q: DO YOU HAVE A NICKNAME?
A: Some people call me LJ
Q: DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT?
A: Yeah
Q: YOUNGEST PERSON IN YOUR FAMILY?
A: My brother Gary (immediate family)
Q: IS DRUG FREE THE WAY TO BE?
A: I don't think alcohol is a drug.
Q: ARE YOU A HEAVY SLEEPER?
A: Yes
Q: LAST TIME YOU USED A SKATEBOARD?
A: I helped buy one for Cammeron once
Q: BEST MOVIE YOU'VE SEEN IN THE PAST TWO WEEKS?
A: I saw a movie and I'll be damned if I remember what it was.
Q: WHAT WAS YOUR LAST REGRET?
A: Trusting a certain person
Q: WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
A: Absolute silence
Q: ARE YOU CURRENTLY DEPRESSED?
A: Not at all
Q: DO YOU THINK ANYONE MISSES YOU RIGHT NOW?
A: I doubt it.
When You've Got Laura, Flaunt It
Have y'all ever seen The Advertising Slogan Generator?
That was mine: When You've Got Laura, Flaunt It.
That's fun. Ashley says I should make it into a t-shirt.
Update!
So even though right now there are only five people in the world who can read this and Blogger doesn't seem to be very good with sending the invites out, it is still nice to log on to my sitemeter and not see my Web stalkers camped out on my blog. I wish I'd been a fly on the wall when they tried to log on yesterday, only to find out that they had to have a password. It made me smile, if nothing else did.
Unfortunately, I've discovered a glitch in this new blogger that makes me very sad. I can't post on the blogs of anyone with the old blogger. That sucks, in case you were wondering. So my friends are saying all these great things and blogger won't let me in to post! Urgggh.
Which reminds me, if you happen to know anyone who normally reads this but I can't leave them a comment right now to email me, can you put them in touch with me so I can add them to the list. This is mostly for my Fort Wayne people who know Dusty and Maynard. Thanks!
Anyhoo, I am nervous as hell for my interview today. I woke up with an upset stomach and I'm pretty sure I have a few hives (not anywhere you can see them, thank goodness!). I think I look good, and I plan to wow them with my professional expertise and bubbling personality. This is the job I have wanted since the day I came to Nashville. Could you imagine doing PR for your favorite restaurant? There's an on-site commissary. Yum.
And besides, it's time for a new job. All my traveling commitments are wrapped up until my brother's wedding next June. I need dental insurance and the version at my work isn't going to cut it. (They will pay $77 for my much-needed crown. Do you know how much crowns cost?!?)
I don't want to leave here, and I feel like my options are running out. I knew before I came here that this is where I wanted to grow old and gray, and I just need to find the perfect job to do that.
Anyhow, it's time to get a job. And in the past when I've explained that to the Big Man Upstairs, he's been game. We've had a lot of chats lately, and I hear some of y'all have spoken to him on my behalf, too. So here's praying that today goes splendidly and these folks can't live without me.
The girl whose desk I'm using this week has one of those calendars where you pull the pages off everyday. (I used to buy those. I once spent 2 hours pulling off and reading about three months of comics. I suck at them.) Anyhow, hers is some type of stock-broker one, but it does sometimes have really great quotes.
Like this old, familiar one:
"Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm." -- Emerson
I'm going to conquer this fine, rainy Tuesday. How about you?
I wish it hadn't come to this...
I've already made fun of people for blogging about petty bullshit, so I'm not going to do much of that. I just wanted to let y'all know that I absolutely, positively hate that I've had to restrict access to my blog. It really contradicts everything that's so great about blogging. When I think about the people here whom I consider friends that I only met because they accidentally ended up here and that I'm limiting myself to that kind of interaction right now, it pisses me off. Big time.
I'm a journalist. I believe very much in freedom of speech. I believe very much in the principles of a free press. So, seriously it pains me to no end that I feel so threatened that I have to limit who gets to see what I have to say.
But I'm also completely over my words being twisted and contorted by bitter shrews who have nothing better to do but than to plot their "revenge" against me. I thought that since they won't move on by themselves that it was time to move things along for them. At first I thought it was funny and I did things here just to piss them off. Then, you'll remember, I called a truce and they said that they were on-board and waved their white flags. I moved along and they cranked the asshole up a notch.
Regardless, it is all finished. They can't come here and I'm OK with that. Although that last game of "Who's he looking at?" really would've gotten their panties in a wad. For folks who say "Show me pictures and I'll believe," they never mean it when I post pics of TBWYH staring at me or talking to my friends or pictures of Keith and Nicole or Kenny and Vanessa...
Now it's time for my favorite game...
It's been a while since we played a rousing game of "Who's he looking at?"
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v619/laurajo521/detroit.jpgI love this game. I always win!
Crazy Miss LJ's thought of the day
I'm not really crazy, but sometimes I like to pretend.
Anyhow, I got this from a friend today and found it to be very appropriate...
I hate being an asshole...
Really, I do. I don't do it well. At all.
The time had come to clean house in blogland. Rest assured this is not a permanant change. But for the time being, I need to have certain people out of my life. The lies need to end NOW.
So, until further notice, this blog will be private. If you're reading this, consider yourself very privileged. That means I trust you. Don't do anything to fuck that up, OK?
I have a list of everyone who's reading this blog. (I did before. It's called a sitemeter. Ha ha.) Anyhow, not that I need to say this, but I think we all know that I'm highly paranoid these days. So don't go spreading around what you read here. If it were other folks' business, they'd be invited to read.
I know this is all highly asinine, but I'm dealing with some highly asinine people. Thanks to those who'd like to ride out the storm with me.
It's time...
I have a job interview on Tuesday. This job is pretty much my dream job. I haven't really kept y'all posted on the job hunt, but I wanted to let you know that the last two jobs I applied for that I really wanted it got down to me and another person and they ultimately chose the other person. The one guy who interviewed me told me that it was the hardest decision that he'd ever made, but the other person had a smaller learning curve because she was doing the exact same job somewhere else.
But my life is finally all settled here, and I feel like it's time. One thing's for sure, I'm just about over this part-time job that I have. Honestly if Kay hadn't talked me out of it when I called her at lunch crying, I'd have just gone home and never gone back. I'm just tired and frustrated and I need to get settled and stop worrying about money as much as I am right now.
Secondly, it's time for some other things too, but I'm still ironing it all out. If anyone who reads this happens to be using the new beta version of Blogger, please leave me a comment so I can ask you about it off-line.
So what do you think?
This is the new look. I like it. It's fun, and definitely more "me" than the other was. When I first signed up for my blog, I just picked one of the pre-made templates and started typing. After a year, I've learned a lot about this whole thin. Although this template was a pain in my patootie.
Anyhow, let me know what you think.
Stay tuned!
We're making some big changes in Blogland, and this site's going to have an all-new (and very cool!) look very soon. As far as I know, what's already here will be visible in all its pink majesty while I'm working on it. However, when the finished product (I'm not telling; it's a surprise!) is completed, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised!
Sidenote: I've been having a lot of trouble with the possessive "its" lately. I hope I didn't lose brain cells last weekend, but between the nice, clean air in Chicago and the substances that I used to pickle my liver, I'm not so sure...
Opa!
We went to a festival at a Greek church tonight in the Athens of the South. OMG, I had soooo much delicious food. I had grape leaves, spinach pie and baklava. Ashley got the best pastistsio ever. It was perfect. I told her that sometime soon she and Josh will have to come over for pastistsio, Greek salad and rice pudding some night soon. I love Greek food. And the music was a lot of fun tonight!!!
Creepy quiz
All you put in is your name and gender and it determines all this stuff. I've always wanted to name my kids Isabella and Joseph. And I used to do the whole political thing. But there's no way to know that from typing my name in. Weird.
HA!
Oh, the irony.
Did anyone else notice the word of the day was "erroneous"?
That's a freaking hoot.
One more thing! I found a quiz!
I'm a Ford Mustang!
You're an American classic -- fast, strong, and bold. You're not snobby or pretentious, but you have what it takes to give anyone a run for their money.
"Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.
Sidenote: What about the changes at Ford this week? But interesting thing. I worked in the auto industry for years. Hell, Ford was one of our clients. And I've ALWAYS thought that the CEO who resigned this week (the young, cute one)was the one they called William Clay Ford and his dad (the old guy) was Bill Ford. So everyone kept talking about Bill Ford resigning and all I could think was "What's he even in charge of?" Turns out I have them backwards. Oops.
This is Mr. Bill Ford Jr. He's unemployed, I guess.
Random thoughts
First of all, I'd like to apologize to anyone who may read that last post for whom it was not intended. It's mean. But you know what? Sometimes the only thing you can do is get in someone's face and scream at them. And I have to scream right now. So my head doesn't explode.
Now that I'm done with my passive-aggressive (but leaning more toward aggressive today) rant and its explanation, I thought I'd share a few other things.
First of all, the dog that we've been fostering here -- you know, the one that ate my shoe? Well he ate my rent money. Which was a money order because our landlady won't take checks anymore because the girl she rented to before bounced them like four months in a row. So anyhow, we've got to get that all sorted out. Let's hope we do, because if we don't Carol says she may have to leave Nashville, and that'd make me very sad. I'm sure we'd be able to stay here if we find a new roommate, but I like Carol a lot.
Next, I don't think George Foreman actually invented the George Foreman grill, but I'd like to kiss whoever did because it's made my life sooo much easier.
I have been sober since Monday, and it's highly overrated. I don't think I'd really be up at 2:30 a.m. caring about people who don't matter if I were drunk.
I'm also worrying about a few people who matter, but that's for a different day.
The new orange drink at Sonic is very good. I love Sonic.
I know a lot of my friends read my blog. If you've emailed me lately and haven't heard back, don't panic. I'm seriously busy. (If you couldn't notice by the frequency of my posts lately.) No time. Hopefully it'll all settle down weekly.
I wonder if a doctor had never told me I was allergic to cigarettes if I could still smoke them. Because after spending last week hanging out with smokers, especially while drinking, I really want to smoke. But my friends won't let me. Something about loving me and it killing me and blah blah blah. All I could hear was "Marlboro," ummkay?
I have a few things I'd say in this space right here if I didn't have an audience. But I do. So y'all will have to wait until I am a) really drunk b) really tired c) really pissed or d) all three. Of course, last time I was all three, blogging was the last thing on my mind.
I had one final thought, but as I typed it I realized it made me sound like an uber-bitch so I decided to delete it. Really, I am a nice person. And honestly, if I really can't stand you, I'll just pretend you're dead so I still don't have to be mean to you. Not a mean bone in my body. So ix-nay on the bitch comments.
Lastly, and then I'm going to take a power nap before I'm up at 6:30 to get ready for work. Song of the day:
Turn the Page by Bob Seger. It's a classic.
I spoke too soon...
One thing I've learned about liars is that they lie. So really, why am I shocked?
Remember my post 6 months ago?
The one where I called the truce? I was dead-fucking-serious about the truce. And I moved on with my life. I've done so much in the last six months. Mostly I've moved here to Nashville and have gotten settled. And honestly, I put the past in the past and kept moving toward the future, because it's the only thing that you can change.
Other people, apparently, not so much. You see, while I was busy living my oh-so-exciting life, I'd completely forgotten about those folks I used to worry about all the time. Honestly, I didn't know if they were dead or alive, and I was 100% ok with that. They were completely inconsequential to my existence. And looking back that's very exciting to me, because the point of the 6-month retrospective and its accompanying truce was so that in a year I didn't sit back and think "Holy fuck! I've wasted a whole year of my life on retarded bullshit!"
And thank God I can say that. Because it's apparent that other people, not so much.
Perhaps while I was moving on, I let my guard down. But you know what? It felt good. Until lately. You see, all of a sudden people I considered to be good friends stopped talking to me. Folks who were normally very nice people started acting like total assholes to me and others. And allegedly it was all because of me.
I'm not getting into it all. There's nothing I can do. Except remind people that I haven't done anything AT ALL to you recently, and what I did "do" to you wasn't anything to be so freaking pissed about anyhow. If nothing else, I did you a favor. Because if I'm such a big fucking jerk you didn't really want to be my friend anyhow, did you?
I don't even care if you're alive. It's been a year. You don't ever cross my mind. Ever. You're dead to me. So, go play dead somewhere, OK? Get the hell out of my life. Now. For good.
It's like I said before. Nobody gets to win here and nobody gets to lose. If you're worried that I'll spill ALL the beans on your little secret rest assured that I have no intentions of doing that. Why? Because I don't fucking care.
I hope someday when you're old and gray (For those of you who aren't already, of course. Just because you act 12 doesn't mean you really are.), I hope that you can reflect on your lives and be proud of it and not feel like you wasted significant chunks on stupid, idiotic things. It took me a while to get to that point, but that's where I am now. Everything I do in life is something that I'll be proud of later. And I don't live in the past because there is no point in rehashing things you can't change.
So, why this post? Well, it's the last one. I'm pissed right now. And I'm sad for people who are so pathetic that they can't move out of the past. Just let a dead dog lie, and don't try to suck more people into your stupid bullshit.
Honestly, ask yourself right now if you'll be proud of the way you're acting ten years down the road. Or even ten days, weeks or months from now. And if you will be, then you're more pathetic than I thought and I seriously doubt anyone can help you.
Hell, think of all the sweaters and scrapbooks you could've made if you'd taken up a hobby like I suggested. Hell, I've written a whole lot of book while you've been off at the coffee klatch.
Oh, and P.S. If I were going to be pissed off with someone for eternity and harbor a huge grudge, it'd be over something better than an aging country superstar.
It's that time of year...
How about my Volunteers?
They rocket-launched themselves in the rankings after beating Cal Saturday. Not too shabby after last season, although I remain cautiously optimistic.
Have I mentioned lately that it's a great time to be a Volunteer?
What a difference a year makes!
So, I just realized that it's been a little over a year since I started blogging. Wow, what an interesting road it's been. I guess I could post some big, long nostalgic post here, but I'm really not in the mood. After this weekend, I'm kind of over my limit on nostalgia.
As I'm writing this, I've had 12,552 visitors. Some of them I'd rather have not had, but most of you are very cool. I finally met a few of my IIFs this weekend, and I can safely say that they are wonderful people. They put up with a lot of my shit. And as Kay said "Really, your bloggy-blog did NOT prepare them for that."
There have been not-so-nice folks on my blog too, but they have made it kind of fun. There have been a few things that I may have never said if y'all hadn't inspired my inner ballsiness. So, for that I guess I should thank you. As for the other stuff, well you know what mama always said...
In 47 page views, I'll hit 20,000. So yes, I guess people do really read these things.
Thanks to my friends who still have to listen to me bitch, especially when I don't have my laptop with me. But I do have a creative outlet. Hell, some days I
almost feel like a real writer.
This time last year, I'd just gotten done with seeing the Pretty Princess and TBWYH for the year. I was still in Ohio and Sparky had just arrived in my life.
One year and several doggie toys, treats and sweaters later, I am in Nashville with my roommate's dog and Sparky is a regular fixture on my parents' farm with no intentions of going everywhere, even though we have a nice yard right here in the city. I miss him.
This past year has been a lot of new beginnings. I'm moving forward and despite my gripes and being busier than one person should ever be, life is grand. I'd say there's nothing I'd change, but that's a lie. There are a few things I'd change, but that's not anything to worry about because you can't change the past. And besides, mistakes are not necessarily a bad thing if you learn from them and
move on.So, I want to thank all of my visitors and friends new and old. Y'all have made this a lot of fun. And just as I predicted, y'all have reminded me when I've been shirking my blogging duties. It's a tad bit creepy having my diary online for any Tom, Dick and Harry to read, but at the same time, I've got a much better record of the last year than I would've had if I'd put it down on paper.
Oh, and the song of the day: Every Mile a Memory by Dierks Bentley. Seriously, he can sing it to me anytime he wants.
Whew!
I know y'all have been looking for me. I haven't really gone anywhere.
OK, that's a lie. I've been lots of places in the last ten days or so...
Oh, adventures.
I went to Detroit to see one of my best friends from high school and the Pretty Princess happened to be there. His trusty side-kick looked fantastic, and a good time was had by all.
My friend Alexis from Chicago rode back to Nashville with me. On Monday, she and my roommate rescued a dog who ended up not being a stray, but just a dog with shitty owners. But the dog was cute. Tuesday I took her to Lynchburg and a good time was had by all.
However, it was Wednesday where she really got intimate with Mr. Jack Daniel. We picked Kay up at the airport around 4 (the road to the airport was closed because the delightful leader of our nation stopped to raise money for his crappy friends on our taxpayers' dimes. Yay!). Anyhoo, earlier in the day Alexis had gotten the brilliant idea to go to this haunted tavern tour, so we picked Kay up and off to downtown to learn about the ghosts in Nashville.
It was fun, and we walked through a cold spot that's allegedly the ghost of a woman whose husband knocked her down the stairs. We also won the trivia contest and got free shot glasses.
Then we somehow ended up at Legends, where we shot the shit with my Sunday-morning troubadour, who happens to work the door there. Alexis made friends with the bartender and drank 8 Jack and Cokes, bought a drink for both me and Kay and spent a whopping $18. (How's that work? Maybe I should run a tab more often!)
Of course, all good drinking expeditions end up at Waffle House at about 3:30 a.m. And then we went back to my house so Alexis could pack and we could take her to the airport.
Thursday night we learned that "Let's just go get one drink" is a big, fat lie. And never, ever trust a boy in a band. (Seriously, couldn't that have been our motto for years now?!)
I took Kay to Indianapolis on my way to Chicago and then I was off to meet Jenn and Laura for the final round in KennyLand. I know everyone keeps laughing, but I think it's time to retire. Chicago was fun, if only to watch very Southern people be fascinated with things like White Castles and traffic. We had fun at the show, and for the third time last week, I realized that perhaps I'm not completely repulsive to all men, which was a nice little self-esteem boost.
And then it was back to Indy for my last show at least for this year, perhaps forever. We will see.
I was very excited about this show because I got to meet some of my IIFs who've been planning to go with me for months. I guess they aren't Imaginary Internet Friends anymore now, are they? Although I probably significantly scared them into not wanting to be my real friends either. I think they had fun, but I got a little emotional with the tour being over and all. It was really sad to think that it's all done for the year. Oh and I drank in a way that I hadn't drunk in quite a while. Honestly, girls, I'm much less insane when I'm sober. Much.
But liquid courage is a beautiful thing. And I had plenty of it. And fun was had by all. The show was fantastic. It was nice to meet new friends. It was hard to say goodbye to old ones. There were lots of goodbyes last night. I'm not a huge fan of goodbyes.
So, tomorrow it's back to reality. And reality sucks. It was very nice to have that two hours of not having any problems and just getting a little mini-vacation with the Caribbean Cowboy. Now, I sit here all sobered up and realize that tomorrow I go back to my shitty job and looking for a less shitty job. I just wish my luck would change.
However, if I learned nothing else between my pep talks from Colleen (who is an amazing woman!) and little Miss Carrie Underwood is that I need to let Jesus Take the Wheel.
I know God is going to provide for me. I trust him. So I just have to put it all in his hands and see what happens.
And I'm hoping he's slightly more competent than roadies and minimum-wage security guards, because putting it in their hands hasn't worked so much...
