Tara and i got brought home in a cruiser on saturday night. Pictures will follow.

Today i recieved the most amazing picture of my best friend from highschool.


It's from his 80's party. And it's incredible.


Tara's been pokin gfun at me all week because i appear to be interested in a boy. Literally poking. In the forehead whenever she gets a chance. An i doubt that will stop anytime soon. She mentioned it in front of Scott and he put the fear of god in me baout the whole thing. Because, in all honesty, the person i would want ANY guy I'm interested in to meet is Scott. He would be a douchebag just to see me squirm. In fact, imagining that conversation is making me squirm. End that thought.

Simpsons are on. I go.

conversation

According to tara, this kid mike was cool because he was Scott's best friend and Slept with her.


Now, I'm her best friend and slept with scott.

Does that mean i'm cool?

'hfbdaofbdl'fbdlm

I talked to Dave Feeley the other night. It was great. I got the update on all my friends from highschool that I miss and for some reason don't talk to anymore (although we'll be hanging out soon). It's weird how things change so drastically, but don't really. The whole thing made me a little nostalgic and a little sad. Davey and I were talking about how we have a reunion next year and how we'll handle the whole thing. We both did your summation of the last 5 years speech that inevitable will be repeated over and over again.

Davey: "I went to be a music major and quit right before my associates since you can't make a living with it, and those who do barely get by, how's by you?"

Me: "I went through 4 years of college as an English major concentrating in professional writing with the aim of editing in magazines and quit with one semester left. I wouldn't be surprised if there are naked pictures of me on the internet."

There you have it, kids, the story of my success.



I was bored and googling people today, and I put myself in the quotes. Up popped Nick Parco's old livejournal. That was a blast from the past. It made me think about how many people I used to be friends with (close friends). And then how many of them I'm probably better off without. I can honestly only think of maximum 4 people that I used to be friends with that I no longer talk to. Well, people that I consciously stopped being friends with rather than just fell out of touch. The people I will never be close to again. That's a good way to put it. Unclosables.


And on the note of unclosables, I managed to avoid having to go to the babyshower by avoiding the person all together.


I also ended up getting the skinny on my exboyfriend. He isn't dead. Unfortunately.

If I wasn't going to hell before...

On Sunday, my mother made me visit my grandma. I showed her my tattoo.

We were talking about the difference in tuition for salemstate and long island U (which is where cait wants to go) and my grandmother looked at me and said, "it's ok. Stay stupid." Noticing the look on my face, she went to hand me the pencil she was doing word searches with and queried, "Wanna stab me with this?"

I said, "no. It's better punishment to keep you alive."

She also asked twice if I was still a virgin. The first time I told her not to ask the questions she didn't want answers to and the second time I told her I was pure as the driven snow. My father told me after hearing the story that there was a special layer in hell for people who lie to old people.



If it's the Cosby show, why are they named the huxtibles. That irritates me so much.

I'm going to hell

Tonight, my sister is being confirmed into the Catholic Church. It's this big hoopdedoo that officially makes someone an adult Catholic. And I am being forced to attend.

The conversation with my mother went something like, "You have to go to Cait's thing on Saturday."
"What thing?"
"Her confirmation. It's during the 4 o'clock mass."
"I've already gone to church twice this year. Lay off me."
"Weren't they both funerals?"

So I have to sit in church for two hours (officailly the longest I've been out of my house since Monday) and try not to fall asleep or throw things. I have very bad church manners. I'm pretty sure that was a large part of why my mom allowed me to start sleeping in on Sundays.

So, I asked if my dad is going too, so I have someone to heckle everyone with.

"You will NOT heckle Church."

And here I flash back to my sister's graduation from 8th grade (in the same church) where one of the teachers passed out halfway through he procession into the church and caused a 20 minute delay. No one knew why there was a delay, though, because she passed out in the vestibule and everyone was being respectful and facing forwards. After 3 minutes without anyone coming down the aisle, my dad and I started. I don't remember what was said, but it as really hot in there and we are similar in disposition. It went on until we were finally able to leave the dumb thing and go out for dinner (which ended up being the largest icecream sundaes in the world.)

I hate going to events at this church.

To make it worse, there is a girl I used to be friends with who will be there. She's one of those people who, no matter how hard I try to avoid her, will not get out of my life. Most recently, she sent me an invitation to her babyshower. Her second Baby shower. For the second child she is having in her short 22 years on this earth. I got suckered into going to the first one because I went to driving school with one of our mutual friends (who I no longer talk to and neither does she) who ratted me out.

I thought I was home free for this one, because a piece of paper is just that. You can ignore a piece of paper. And then Cait says to me in the car on Wednesday (or Thursday) "[Girl I wish would disappear] is making her confirmation with me."

I had a cool Ethan at the steering wheel. And now I'm going to end up at this babyshower that I don't want to go to because a) I hate baby showers (all the stupid games and fawning and AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGgg) and/or b)I would rather not rekindle any facade of friendship with this girl. We stopped being friends SEVEN years ago on a not so good note and I have never called her. Not once.
.
Fuck's sake, Ann Marie, leave me alone

i wanna rock

So i made it out of surgery very alive and only a little cranky because i was hungry.

Theses are the most unsettling things i heard presurgery:

Well, I guess I'd like to see what i'm supposed to opperate on first.

Get her into the frogleg position.

Wait, I can't find the left ovary... can you see the left ovary.

this is going to be a uncomfortable, so hold still.


And everyone, if you ever EVERT hing you need an ultrasound, DO NOT PEE! They have devices of torture for internal ultrasounds. I'll leave the details out, but imagine the movements that go with a statement like "I can't find the ovary." Just think about.

Tomorrow is surgery.

But for now: Drunk dialing, Don't do it.

If you think you're sober enough to monitor someone else's conversation--Don't do it.

If you have had even a drink, put the phone own.

And tequila makes me angrier than I thought.


Awhile ago, I swore off Indy flicks. There was a catalyst: The Dreamers. The movie can be summed up as French incest soft porn set in the sixties. It was on T.V. last night and Aaron Shute and I watched it.

I never thought I would find another person on the planet who isn't a pretentious wannabe culturati (portmanteau...) who found it s disturbing as I did. So we watched it and I fell asleep on his arm.


Just about everyone in my life has a song designated to them that makes me thing exclusively of them. I found Scott's today. It was an accident. And if you're curious about which song belongs to you, just ask.


So I may be dead tomorrow, or I may just be in drug induced stupor. Either way, holla. I'll be bored.

Where is my large automobile?

Just about anyone who has walked outside with me has witnessed some level of my fear of birds. They terrify me. There is a story. I don't feel like telling it.

So, why do I LOVE that stupid Mentos commercial with the birds singing No Limit?

Second commercials thought for the evening: Who thought it was ok to put the new Quaker Oatmeal commercial (with the statue of the Quaker) in a back to back spot with the BK King commercial with the Kind outside the man's window. I had just finished saying to Tara how much less distressing the Quaker commercial was thank the BK one when out popped the Trinque/ Don Quixote-esque Burger King to scare the crap out of us. Honestly, who thought he was a good idea. If I ever see the burger king, I will slap him in his naugahyde face.

I almost had a mind to mouth miscommunication on Friday that was parallel to the "you're lucky I didn't give you strep" moment. I don't believe in telling stories to someone you're sleeping with about someone else you're sleeping with. I nearly crossed that line.

That's a lie (here to fore known as propaganda). I do use it as a tool for being spiteful. I never get the desired result. However, being a girl, That sort of thing always gets the correct reaction out of me. I am getting good at keeping it on the inside. There are only a few that still make me miserable on the outside. And eventually, there will be some grown up words about that.

I'm flippin tired of getting my heart stepped on.

oh, and Cait's cat hurled on my favorite jeans today. I may have a bruiser skin rug soon. My mother says he is all of ours cat, but cait is the only one who he loves. The only one he will be around if there is yelling. None of the cats were ever mine. The dog was mine and he's dead. So fuck Bruiser and his gastrointestinal failings. Fuck him in his stupid ass.