Public Service Announcement

Inebriation + early morning + Walmart = BIG no no.

For realz. Don't ever go shopping at Walmart at 3:00 am after you've had a few too many Long Island Iced Teas. You will walk out with over $100 worth of utter CRAP you would never in your right mind look twice at.

After waking up this morning and dealing with my weekly Sunday hangover, I dig through three Walmart bags in absolute disgusted amusement. I come up with a bright pink dress with orange stripes acrossed it, ORANGE FUCKING SHOES, stretch pants, a jean jacket that's about 10 sizes too large, and a tiny purse the color of turds.

I take this moment in time to scratch my head and wonder what the hell was going through my mind. I guess as I stumbled out of the Escape Lounge good and shitfaced, I decided it would be a fantastic idea to go to Walmart and do a bit of shopping. Seriously. A hot pink dress and orange shoes? What the fuck was I thinking? The only thing I can come up with is that my poor alcohol soaked brain was thinking "ooh, look at the pretty colors!"

All I can say is thank god I didn't tear any of the tags off and throw out the receipt.

C-C-C-Cinnamon Lips

Don't ever eat a spoonful of cinnamon. EVER. It sucks. And it hurts. I'm not even joking, that shit will suck the very soul out of you through your tongue and cause a slow, painful death. And your friends will just stand around and laugh while you choke and cry and your life fades away.

Of course, I'm the smarty-pants who went ahead and said "sure, I'll do it!" when my dumb ass friends got through watching cinnamon test videos on Youtube and thought it'd be hilarious to see someone actually do it.

I'm lucky to be alive.

Mixed Suffering.

It's been a weird fucking weekend. I can't take any more of this up and down shit. I don't like this ride. I want off.

First things first. I fucking hate Second Life. Whoever invented it deserves to be shot. It's fucking stupid and childish and I really don't understand how people get SO OBSESSED with this asinine foolishness. Is it because your first life is so lame that you have to create this whole other cyber world to hide in 24/7 like a total loser? Christ, if my life was truly that bad, Second Life would probably be that final kick in the proverbial nuts for me. I hate the world for having such a monstrosity in it. J, honey, I love you with my whole heart, but I swear to god I'm going call A&E and stage an Intervention on your ass.

Moving right along. Amy, I love you!!! Love love love love! I love that I get to work with you and all the girls again. I love that you guys took me to Flex on Saturday to watch the drag show. I love that you guys got me plastered. I love that I didn't even realize how annihilated I was until I was sitting at the table and forgot for a moment that I was sitting on a stool with no back on it. I love that I was so leveled that when I got home I passed out with all my clothes including my shoes still on. I love that I woke up Sunday morning and went to church with a hangover gift-wrapped from hell. These are the moments I live for.

And now for my second order of negativity. Wendy's. Now I hate useless complaining as much as the next person, but this is BIG. Me, J, and Dennis ordered from Wendy's on Sunday night. Here was my tantrum upon unwrapping my food: " Dude. Wendy's fucked up my burger! OMG my night is ruined! WTF PLEASE someone help me in my time of NEED!" Yes, I said OMG and WTF. Hey, I never said I was a professional drama queen.

Now yesterday was a good day. The weather was decent, I got to sleep the majority of my day away, and I sat in the spa last night at Amy's, smoked cigarettes, and downed a pint of Caramel Machiatto ice cream. And then I come home to find out that my Gramma is leaving. Moving away from me after living a block away for the last 26 years of my life. Ouch. Every time I think about this fact I want to lay on the floor and cry while sucking my thumb. Yes, I am a grown woman, but damn it all, this just sucks.

To everyone out there, quit idolizing celebrities and obsessing over things you can't have and praise the real people in your life. Let them know you love them because they can disappear in the blink of an eye, and that cuts deeper than anything.

Thus endeth my sermon.

My entire life is now legitmate.

Have you ever laughed so hard that you nearly vomited, cried, and pissed yourself all in one go? Indeed, those moments are magical. And this particualr moment is brought to you by Youtube, and the lovely folks on there who have too much time on their hands.

Gosh, this takes me back to my high school symphony days. Follow the link. (By the way, Blogger, you suck for not letting me embed the video itself.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UuJrg_U8SNY

Oh, Craigslist, how do I hate thee?

Let me count the fucking ways.

So I'm working two jobs at the moment, neither of which bring satisfaction in any way, shape, or form. I just want a regular nine to five Monday through Friday desk job. Is that too much to ask for? Ah, yes. And then there's craigslist. Yeah, fuck off, you don't even rate proper capitalization. Damn, you spend a good chunk of your life (that could have been spent on more useful things, like eating, sleeping, bothering people, etc.) trolling through the business section of this site and throw out 500 resumes, only to get 400 replies that say "Thank you for your interest, you are now on your way to making $3, 467,873 a day by doing surveys ONLINE!!!"

EAT SHIT AND DIE!!!

Damn it, I just want someone to have mercy on me and give me a normal job so I can start nursing school at night. And Strawberry Cheerios? They don't taste anything like strawberry. I am sorely disappointed. This brings me back to when I was 6 years old and I got a set of fake but sturdy golf clubs for my birthday. I immediately tore into them at which point my brother and I proceeded to beat each other with them. My dad took them away from us two seconds later. This caused me to cry, so he knelt down to my level, wiped my tears while smiling at me and said, "Honey, life is full of disappointment. You'd better get used to it."

You had to be right, didn't you dad?

I win at life.

It is almost 4:30 in the morning, and I just managed to insult three entirely seperate entities of the human race in five syllables.

Go me.

Now entering my 34th hour of sleep deprivation...

Alright. I started this bullshit blog for a reason, and I may as well keep to it. (By the way, blog is a stupid fucking word. Seriously, who invented this word? I digress.)

So let's get down to this blogging (ugh) business. And in the case of this specific blog (Mr. and/or Mrs. I-invented-the-term-blog, I hope someone randomly approaches you in the very near future and slaps you in the face with a 2x4), I use the term "business" very loosely. This is supposed to be my "practice run" for setting up my boss's professional blog. But I'm finding it a bit hard to take this crap seriously with the scenario that took place Wednesday night.

Allow me to paint you a picture: It's 9:00 p.m. I have a house full of people. The TV is blaring so loudly that my windows are rattling. The dining room table is still littered with half eaten food; Subway sandwiches that are drying out, cheese dip that has formed a rubbery film on top, warm, half-consumed sodas. Your typical get-together scenario. Everyone is in good spirits and enjoying themselves, as it should be. But what's this? Where has our lovely hostess disappeared to? Ah, there she is. In the front room getting her ass handed to her over the phone by her boss, who has seemingly gone on some sort of wild bender with mood stabilizers.

See what happens when you answer a work-related phone call off the clock? One moment you're laughing it up with your friends, walking around with this raging hard on for life, and the next your phone rings and the second you hear that authoritative *snort* voice in your ear, BOOM. Instant boner kill. Now, I may have been a little more cooperative about this handing over of my ass, except that its reasoning just didn't make any sense to me.

What was said to me (in a complete over-exaggeration, mind you): "Even though you slaved away all day grocery shopping, going to the dry cleaners, stopping by my accountant's house who couldn't have possibly moved herself any further to the outskirts of town, doing my asinine chores for me and cooking and preparing my weird ass organic food for me, I noticed that you put my ready made and separated food portions into Tupperware containers. Where on earth is your brain? Don't you know that polyurethane is toxic? I absolutely cannot possibly eat this tainted devilment. Now I will have nothing for lunch tomorrow. And you left me a note stating that my dry cleaning would not be ready until tomorrow. What am I supposed to wear? Why did you not take them to the BBB imediately? For that matter, why did you not have the bastards that work there deported and flayed alive? Let's put our thinking caps on now. Is any of this acceptable? Most certainly not, methinks."

What I heard: "You tried to poison me with plastic and I'm going to work naked and hungry tomorrow, even though I have a kitchen stocked full of groceries and plenty of clothes." Just, HUH? You're out of your fucking gourd, methinks.

You know, I've become pretty intuitive in my 27 years on this planet, and I'd like to think that by now I can read people pretty well (you're not as mysterious as you think you are, trust me). But this woman just hit me out of left field with all of this insanity. Most people's bizzareness is right out there in the open where everone can see it (I know mine is), but man, she just let that batshit craziness sneak right up on me.

I took several moments at this point to contemplate the thought of Tupperware causing involuntary manslaughter. If plastic really was poison, how many people would be dead? Pretty much most of, say, THE WORLD. There must be a place in the cosmos where logic like all of this makes sense. I'm just not sitting in that place right now.

It is currently Friday afternoon, and I am now able to look back on all of this lunacy and laugh at it, but in that moment on Wednesday night, I felt like a total fucking tool when my best friend comes in from the other room to check on me and I'm standing there on the verge of tears because I'm being chewed out over some pretty ignorant horse shit. It wasn't even the yelling that I was really bothered by. It was the fact that she was talking to me as if I had a brain malfunction. I can't stand when people talk to me like that.

So here I am, stressing about the whole situation and wondering if this is all going to be worth it. Whateva. For right now, I got 99 problems but a BITCH ain't one! Haha, I'm so witty in all of my delirious glory. But on a higher note, OMG those new beefy double volcano fiery hot burritos from Taco Bell are the fucking shiznit. Quality grub.

I could ramble on in grandiose fashion for another fifty paragraphs, but I shall refrain, for fear I may include the Hippocratic Oath at some point. Time for this slag to get some sleep. Over and out.

Oh. My. LORD.

Thanks a fucking bunch Joey.

Of life changing events and belching duets...

Alright, wouldn't one think that a mother would want her offspring to NOT be in a profession where the whole environment is poisonous and an abundance of bad things could happen to them? I've been extremely pensive about this all night following an argument caused by my not wanting to work tonight.

Besides, groceries and power are like, totally overrated.

Yes, I'm being a complete ass this evening. It's not the momma's fault that I chose to work where I work and now I can't get out of it because nobody's hiring due to the economy's crapiness. But having a deep conversation with someone about life, future goals, religion, and then having them tell you that you are so much better than what you're doing can lead you to quite a fork in the road. And then to have them promise that they will stand behind you and support your life changing decisions and buy you stuffed French Toast with strawberries is overwhelmingly touching.

And to be honest, I'm scared to death of all these decisions that have landed in my lap, because the wrong choices could alter the course of my life. Curse all the important things and their complexities.

In other news, after eating cereal for dinner for the last week and a half, I was fed a cheeseburger, chocolate milk, and really doughy, gooey cookies courtesy of my neighbors. It was divine (although my gut doesn't think so now). I got to play mommy and help Cece with her Kindergarten homework while enduring perplexed stares from her because I was having fun writing out simple sentences. Sue me.

I finished off my evening with a Coke induced belching duet performed by myself and Ben. It was spectacular.

Someone wake me up when winter's over.