Over the past 9 days I’ve gone through so many emotions. I’ve felt irritated, empowered, angry,  depressed, and weak. There have been a few days when I haven’t been bothered at all, then others when it was all I could do not to flip out. I’m not gonna lie… I even broke down on Saturday and had a few puffs (after a few drinks) but I don’t think it set me back much. More than anything, I want to be healthier. Eventually I want to be disgusted by cigarettes- but for now, if I can cut myself down to a few puffs a week, then I think I can be ok with that. In fact, more than anything, I’m just proud of myself for not going postal on everyone who smiled at me and told me with their clean teeth and untainted fingernails that they were not addicted to smoking… that, and for not gouging my own eyeballs out with a number two pencil. I’ve also upped my pen chewing 123%, but I think I can deal with that.

I don’t know whether it’s the quitting smoking or the turning into a  28 year old woman, (and I use that term loosely) but lately I’ve been feeling like doing a little more soul searching than usual. For an example, last Thursday night I HAD to go see the meteor shower. At about 10:30 pm I dragged my roommate LA and Moops out of bed and made them drive me 45 minutes out into the country so that we could have a clear view of the sky. We drove forever, and finally found a patch of grass on the side of the highway to spread our blanket on. The three of us lay there  side by side in peace, trying to understand the vast arch above us. This lasted about 7 minutes when we begin to get bitten my gigantic Mothra-esque creatures, which made me remember the podcast I had listened to earlier that evening about ticks and the diseases that they carried. Just as we were gathering up the blanket, I saw 3 shooting stars which sent the three of us back into a trance for about 30 seconds until a cop pulled up.

This cop wasn’t your run of the mill city cop, no siree. This man was old, walked with a limp, and even wore an old fashioned badge. We didn’t freak out as we ususally would in cop sitchyeeatshuns, because for once, we weren’t actually doing anything wrong. He explained that he “had got a tele that some der folks were layin out on der road.” I kind of wanted to hug him because he was the first person I’d seen in at least a few days that could have walked straight out of a movie. Regardless we left, and I was forced to continue my soul searching elsewhere.

 (I took an ambien this evening and the majority of that previous paragraph was written in southern-cop accent, in case you couldn’t tell.)

Later that night, I decided to try to meditate. I put on a guided medidtation cd that I bought a few years ago when I decided I wanted to be a Buddhist, but all I could think about was how hairy my toes were and how much I wanted to go downstairs and eat some tuna salad and maybe even some popcorn… so after about 5 minutes of feigned calm breathing, I went downstairs, shaved my toes and ate a bunch of food. FAIL.

Some friends came in town this weekend and we spent the majority of our time playing Mario Party, which in a way a meditation of escaping reality, but for the most part I forgot about my quest to become a better person. Sunday night we went to see Eat Pray Love, which got me thinking all over again. Not necessarily about the movie… it was ok and all and I kind of want to lick Javier Bardem from head to toe, but all in all the whole thing seemed a bit contrived. I didn’t read the book and I don’t know much about the author, but it irritated me a bit that this whole story was based upon a woman who was most likely paid a book deal to go on the “quest” to find herself. But still, it made me want to do so even more. But what can I do?

I don’t really believe in bullshit self help books (no offense to anyone who uses them) but I was feeling like I didn’t have any other options, so this morning I broke down and downloaded “The Secret.” Yeah, that book that everyone and their great grandmother has read and apparantely became millionaires after reading it. I’m about half way through, and I have very mixed feelings. One the one hand,I agree that positive thinking is a.. well positive way to live your life. The more positive you think, the more active you are going to be in trying to reach your goals (though the book claims that all you have to do is “believe” that you will  become the person you want to be, and that you are that person already, and then acracadabra boom hiss your wish will be granted. )the better chance you have of actually obtaining them. But on the other hand, I have always believed that once you picture a scenario in detail- then there is a 99% chance that that exact scenario will never play out in that exact manner. If it did, wouldn’t that be some sort of deja vu space/time continuim fuck up?

I don’t know, but I think I’m thinking about this too hard. I don’t think these books are meant for cynical, questioning people like myself. I will try to apply more positive thinking to my life, and I do think that I could benefit from meditating more often, but I also think I need begin to work things out on a more rational level. My own way. I don’t have it all planned out. I have goals (see my last post) but I don’t have a clue about where I want to be in 20 years. I would like to be financially stable, but I don’t spend my nights dreaming about being a millionaire. I don’t have a dream job, I don’t have an innate desire to have a family at this point in my life… so maybe I just need to start with my small goals.I’m going to devise my own self-help stragedy. Like quitting smoking. I can do this. I will kick this. (Check out my positive thinking, yo). I’ve quit other things before. So perhaps I shall start with something small to help my cause. Maybe I should list out all the things I’ve quit before.

Here we go.

*I quit chewing on my knuckles at the age of four. Granted my doctor told me if I didn’t he’d cut them off. Also take note.. this was the first clue I had an intense oral fixation.

*I quit going to algebra my sophomore year of college because it stressed me out and cause a 3am breakdown when I ran out of lead of my mechanical pencil.

.*I quit watching Lost after the second season because it was stressing me out that nothing. ever. happened.

*I quit my job at the costume shop because my boss was a misogynistic blow hole, who made me pick up sequins while down on my knees in a mini-skirt and wouldn’t let me go home to get some sanitary help for my lady problem. He also told me I was stupid because I couldn’t work the cash register.

*I quit eating most dairy products because they make me feel like there is an angry, drunken, bowling team in my belly.

*I quit my job at the sandwich shop because I lost a nail in the vegetables and I was  probably going to get fired when they found out.

*I quit caring and talking about politics when I realized both sides are liars, but mostly because I wasn’t sure that I even cared.

*I’ve quit reading the Twilight series, Harry Potter, and every biography I’ve ever started. Mostly because of commitment issues.

*I quit going to my trainer because I had a crush on him and I found out he was like 6 years younger than me and I didn’t want to be a cougar at the age of twenty seven. Also I needed an extra $125 a month. Also because I don’t like people telling me what to do.

Hmmm… I’m sure there’s more but I’m tired and so I think I’ll quit writing now. I think we’ve established that I’m pretty good at quitting things. Especially things that suck. So now I just have to apply that to smoking, I suck on cigarettes, right? So technically they kind of suck (or blow)… Either way, I think this helped. If for nothing else, it’s helped me see that I don’t deal with stress very well, which is precisely why I smoked for so long,

Oye vey this ambien is making this confusing and I’m getting stressed again. More on this later, maybe. I’m off to suck on a lozenge, which is a word I still haven’t figered out how to pronounce.

Tootles.

First we have to rewind a few weeks back.  I was at my parent’s house and decided I needed a few new CDs to listen to on my way back to Dallas. I was a little short on cash, so I decided to obtain them the free-est way I knew how… by purchasing them on my mom’s Itunes account. After I picked out a few that I couldn’t live without (The XX, The New Pornographers, Manchester Weekend) I synced them to my own Ipod. I’m not sure if you are aware, but this is the riskiest thing a gal can do. No less than 3 times have I deleted my Itunes library whilst trying to take music from someone else’s computer, or vice versa.

Since I’ve started the new job I have spent the majority of my music face time on GrooveShark.com, so last night was the first time I’d really given the new play-list a good listen. There was a strong smell of water-hose water in the air, which always  puts me in an excellent  mood, so I was really enjoying myself. After I had  listened to Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zero’s “Home” about 3 times I finally let it move on to the next song in the mix.

When I synced up my pod I must have accidentally downloaded some of my mother’s music because it was a song I’d never heard before- but dude… it really made me want to dance-walk. I mean, I usually dance walk, but this song made me want to DANCE. I have rarely allowed myself to indulge in pop music since my “NSYNC” obsession ended, and I never listen to anything but NPR on the radio, but I swear… this girl had right about the same pitch as I do and within a few minutes I was singing “oooohhh baby, baby, baby” along with her at the top of my lungs.  I immediately started thinking of all the steps I would choreograph if I were still teaching dance, and started experimenting with a few of them right there on the street.

Without looking at my ipod, (I keep it on one of those arm thingies that make you “do the pretzel” just to look at it) I started the song over several times because there was this rap-part at the end that I decided I wanted to memorize.

When I finally looked down to find out who this new pop-chick was, I was freaking devastated.

It was – Justin. Fucking. Bieber.

If that’s not cool, I don’t know who is. And I obviously don’t…

I had seen his name on Twitter’s trending topics and once I looked into it, I recognized his face, but had somehow gone this long without hearing this song. The saddest part about it, is that I’m so late to the game. I KNOW people have been talking about him for months, and I simply ignored the whole fad. It’s kind of like I only recently found out what Crocs are, and last night I had to have my roommate tell me who Justin Cook AND Adam Lambert were… At least I think those were their names.

It kind of makes me feel sad and old all at the same time… It’s not like I have a crush on him or anything, I just kind of dug his sound.

HOLY SHIT!?! Is this the same thing that my mom did 15 years ago when she was obsessed with the Backstreet Boys and Nick Lache!? AM I THAT UNCOOL!???

I’m not sure what to do with this feeling I have. I mean, if I were 10 I’m sure I’d have his posters plastered all over my wall…

But I’m not 10 and I am admittingly kind of a music snob, and now I find out that I don’t hate this fifteen year old shim’s music?!?

Oh and I forgot the best part… When I was on the walk, after I decided to ignore the fact that Justin Bieber had given me the dancing fever and I decided to continue with my dance-walk, two hot boys who were running turned the corner and caught me in the act. Dancing and singing. To Justin Bieber. ( AND NO THEY WEREN”T 15)

I obviously rule.

It did make me feel a little better when I found out that I’m not the only person out of his target audience who has a case of Bieber Fever. I mean he did get nominated for a BET newcomer award.

You know what? I think I may just embrace it. I’ll probably lose my all my follower for this but oh well… I like that “Baby” song, and who knows… I may even like him more once I finish downloading the whole album. I might spend two hours making up dances in my room, and I may even post the videos of it on YouTube. But for now I’ll just do this.

AND YEAH. I  Did this too.

That show was made of awesomesauce.

OK so I have been so absent from the internets the last few weeks. I’ve been trying my best to read all of your blogs and I’ve done my best to keep up, but to be completely honest, it’s hard with a job where you actually have to work. Then add in the fact that I’m trying to have a social life (haha) and then I have the option of spending my night on the patio drinking beer and then to do amazing stuff like this!…

[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

I’ll be back next week!!

Every once in a while though, I start to feel the angst building up in my soul and I know that putting it down on computer is the only way I can self-therapatize. (it’s a word in my head, for my head.) I used to use a paper journal for these kind of thoughts, but I kept leaving it places and that lead to more embarrassment than I  care to deal with these days. When I’m feeling this way, I usually type out a few emo-induced paragraphs and then erase it later when my mind is clear.  I’m not quite sure where this is going so there is a good chance that could happen today.

I guess I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the last few days. Really it’s probably been more like months, but I only let myself really work through this stuff every so often. I should probably get a therapist or a hamster to talk to or something so it doesn’t even happen even  this often.

A lot has changed for me in the last year. I was  recently thinking of what I was doing last year at this time, the way I was feeling… and it nearly made my brain spontaneously combust.

From the outside, maybe not much has changed. I still have most of the same friends, hang out at most of the same places, and I still have the same job. I still wake up questioning my decisions and the paths that I’ve chosen to take at this point in my life. I still get angry that some aspects in my life aren’t going the way that I would like. And I still don’t know where I’m headed.

But the more I think about it, I know that the past year has been a year of growth for me.

I’ve overcome some internal battles and come to terms with major changes in my life. I am learning to live a healthy life and to work through things in healthy way. I’m learning to choose my battles and to let things go. I know that I’ll always be a people pleaser, but sometimes it’s hard enough just to please myself, and that’s ok.

I cried a lot, but I laughed a lot too. I pretty much wear my emotions as a “kick me” sign on my back, and last year I took quite a few blows.

My family dynamic has changed. Relationships have changed. Friendships have changed.

I have changed.

What really surprises me is how so many of these things have worked themselves out without me even realizing it. Things that, just six months ago I thought  would plague me forever, have not completely disappeared…but I have somehow come to be at peace with them.

I thought these were all things that I would have to really work at, and in some respect, I do… but  for the most part this peace has come without effort.

Whenever people say “you learn from you mistakes,” it has always sort of gone in one ear and out the other.

I think I finally get it, though I’m not sure there even are mistakes.

I have learned from every experience, both happy and painful.  Situations rarely turn out the way I  intend or envision, and I’m learning that that’s ok.

I’ve shed some skin and I’m ready to keep on keepin on.

Even though I may not always take the right road, I know that eventually I’ll get there. And when I finally do- I’ll be a little smarter, a little tougher, and a much much better person.

(All the while with John Cusack by my side)

For me, it’s been so far so good. At least I haven’t suffered from any head injuries yet.

Thursday was an “ice” day for Dallas, which meant there was a “slight possibility” that there “might” be ice on the road… but “just in case” they decided to close the school district that I work in, which resulted in me getting to stay home from work. Seeing as how I haven’t been drinking this week, it was my first day off of work in a really long time where I hadn’t been hungover, or at the very least “for real” sick.

I just used a shit-ton of “italics” (that’s what I thought they (” “) were called for a very long time) and I have no idea why. I guess I’m just “bored.”

Edit: ** It was pointed out that I was using the word italics wrong, I thought it was clear that since the word was in quotations that it was on purpose, but probably not!! Just so we’re clear, I’m not a dumbass.. well I am, but not about this particular subject!

I was always jealous of the people I know who get to work from home, and to be frank- I always thought that the “stay at home” (there I go again) lifestyle would be kind of perfect for me. Turns out, notsomuch.

My roommates (yes I have 3 of em) all had to go in to work, so I was home alone, all by my lonesome, by myself,  for at least 9 hours. Sounds nice doesn’t it? Well you know what folks? I had no fucking clue what to do.

I woke up earlier than normal to watch for school closings, couldn’t go back to sleep (because I felt great) moseyed on into the kitchen where I made myself some oatmeal.

Then sat.

And then I ate a banana.

And then sat some more.

And then I ate a few string cheeses.

Basically that’s all I did all day. I read a few blogs, played around on Pandora, read the backs of books that I’ve had in my bookshelf for the last 4 years but have never felt like reading…. and then sat some more. I’m not used to being alone in my head for very long, and I’m telling yall… this was just pure torture. As much as I may complain about my job and having so many roommates… I realized today how much I dislike being alone.

I made a few other realizations today:

*If I were to spend too much time alone I would be as big as a house in no time because I would literally eat out of boredom All. Day. Long.

*It’s not near as much fun to make up dances in the living room without a purpose, or at least someone to laugh at you.

*Pandora is the shizdiggity. All this time I’ve been wasting on Amazon trying to discover new music when  I could have just turned on Pandora? I thought Pandora was just for snazzy iphoners.

*When I’m cold, maybe I should check to see if the heater is even on. I spent the entire day in 2 sweatshirts and 2 pairs of sweatpants.

*I am way too reliant on the roommates to do things like adjust the heater.

*Maybe I do need to spend a little more time alone to learn how to do such things.

Hmmm… well something to at least think about 3 months from now when I alone without a podcast broadcasting to my brain. (The ipod was in the car today and I was too cold to go outside.)

So wasn’t that “exciting.”

Moving on. I have asked for a little help from you guys with some suggestions for blog topics, questions you would like me to answer, and so on. Please keep em coming. I really do have a story for everything, and if by chance I don’t, for fucksakes, I’ll make one up.

I’m starting with an easy one.

Kirsten from Belly shirts wanted to know about the time I met my all-time favorite child-star crush, Jonathan Taylor Thomas, or “JTT,” just to keep with the italics.

My boy craziness started at an early age. Yall probably know by now about my obsession with John Cusack and my quest to become his girlfriend, well imagine that crush 10-fold. I had “posters” (tear out pictures from Big Bop and Tiger Beat) of this boy all over my room, even on the ceiling. I never missed an episode of Home Improvement, and you can bet your gluteos maximous dollar that I knew every line to the movie “Man of the House.”

My story of meeting him is actually quite boring, much like my day and this post. Basically, for some random reason or another, the Home Improvement people sent him to my little home town of Waco, Texas, to sign autographs at the local “Autorama.” (I don’t think those italics were necessary either.)

I stood in line for about 3 hours to stand next to him for about 3 minutes… but in my little eleven year old head it was TOTALLY WORTH IT. My poor dad, who had to watch hundreds of tweens wet their days of the week underwear in anticipation of meeting “JTT”, would probably disagree.

Afterwards, I spent my nights even more sleepless than before, dreaming up scenarios where we would meet again. Alas, we never did… but I do have a picture, just for you Kirsten!

Sighhhhh... A dream come true.

Please excuse all the pin holes. That picture hung on nearly every bulletin board I ever had. And excuse the black denim and the vest for that matter, por favor.

Eventually I will get around to telling you my *NSYNC story, which I assure you is much more exciting than this one. In the mean time, if you haven’t read the post about my “oh-so-delightful” meeting with Chad Kroeger, then you should probably do so now.

As usual, I just wanted to add a few more bits of randomness before I leave you for the weekend.

First off, My bud Nikki over at Que Sera Sera had a great post yesterday about her Resolution, which was ultimately to keep an open mind. She also brought up the typical “dance pose” that anyone who ever danced in their childhood did for many a photograph. I danced for 18 years, and I have many of these pics… but not very many with me here. I had scanned this one a while back though, mainly because it is one of the most awkward photos of myself that I have, and it made me laugh. This particular picture was before an Elementary school talent show performance to, I believe “Shake Your Love” by Amy Grant. I wish I had the videos. Enjoy.

And lastly, one of my long time best friends “Bella Broccoli,”  recently started a blog and you should really go check it out! She’s not as crass as me, but she was definitely involved in many of my crazy shenanigans that you’ve read about here! So check her out and introduce yourself, I know you’ll love her just like I do!!

I’m one of those people (some of you know all too well) who is likely to break out into song and dance anywhere. It’s not calculated. As soon as I hear a song that I like, I can’t help it. I grab the nearest item to me to use as a microphone, and I let loose, honey.

I really do think that theater camp may have a big something to do with it.You put a kid on stage and tell her to sing,  then tell her it was good, (because every kid in theater camp gets a part)  and after so many times, she really starts to believe it.

Don’t worry, I’ve been set straight since then.  I’m a mediocre very bad singer…. (you can quit telling me now, I get the point!)

I cannot carry a tune. But that doesn’t make me love it any less. I have realized that no matter where you are, it’s all about performance. It’s the emotion you put into it. I truly believe this.

I know there are certain people who don’t appreciate my ability to entertain an audience wherever the setting may be.

My mom, for instance. If you asked her what her most embarrassing moment of her life was, she would probably go into detail about the time she took me to the fabric store. She was right in the middle of discussing comforter material with a group of older ladies, when she she heard me bust out at full volume  with “the only one who could ever reach me, was the son of a preacher man”  from across the store. She acted like she didn’t know me until we were safely back in the car when she scolded me and told me that there would be serious consequences if I ever did that to her again.

I now use public singing as a “friendship test” of sorts. If we’re going to be somewhere together in public, there is a good chance I will I start singing  and it would be really awesome if you would join in, or at least not act like you would rather be on fire than be in my presence. You may be embarrassed at first, but there is nothing more liberating than a group sing a long at a hole in the wall restaurant in the middle of nowhere. (Right? I’m talking to you friends who went to the river! The Journey sing-along in  Health camp? Hells yeah!)

I have made venues out of grocery stores, movie theaters, zoos, and gas stations. But I have found a new favorite.

Parks and trails.

Oh yes. Although they are somewhat lacking an audience, there is really nothing like belting out a song while going on a walk. I discovered it a few years ago when I didn’t have a job and had nothing better to do than to go on 6 mile walks in the middle of the day. For the most part, you’re on your own. You can have your ear buds in, and can listen to any song of your choice. The best part is, there is no noise restraint. Even I know not to exceed a certain volume when indoors.

Even more so, when your out in the wide open, you can take it a step further.

You dance.

Not just a normal dance. You have to just completely let the music take you over, and what happens feels glorious. It started out as something I would do to embarrass my mother when we were on walks together, but now I just can’t help it. I’m talking about no dance that you would do under normal circumstances. I wouldn’t even like to do this type of dance (if you can even call it that) in a one mile vicinity of a mirror. What happens to my body is something truly worse than even the Muppet Babies could pull off. It’s like one of those exercises we do in improv workshops, where you just let the different parts of your body move without really thinking about it. I know I sound like a complete weirdo right now, but just try it when no one is looking, and I think you ‘ll see what I mean.

Tonight my roommates and I decided to go on a walk together. I put my ear buds in and went at my own pace. I started out belting a little Aerosmith, then switched to Death Cab, and made my rounds through Van Morrison and The Smiths. I had just started spastically moving and singing along to Mariah Carey’s “I don’t want A lot For Christmas”  (It’s November this is ok now) when my roommate, Jake, tapped me on the arm to tell me he and Denny were going to take the short route and head home to start dinner.

I usually would have just kept going without a thought, except for today, for the first time in months, it was pitch black at 6:30pm (fucking daylight savings) and the path we were walking on was through a very unlit patch of woods. And there was a giant full moon, which just put me a little on edge. I probably would have just turned around with the roomies, except I couldn’t shake the memory of me eating about 17 tortilla rolls and 10 mini kit-kats at around 4 o’clock on Saturday morning, and I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do something to ward of that repercussion.

The following conversation occurred:

CJ: What do  you mean y’all are going home?

Jake: You can come too… we just want to get a head start on the chicken…

CJ: But it’s DARK. I could get raped… or murdered!

Denny: Just keep singing and dancing the way you are now… no one would dare to come near you!

And that, friends, is exactly what I did.  I sung at full volume and spastically danced my way through the woods. It all went well until I came upon a group of skateboarders, one of which I couldn’t see clearly and I thought he was charging at me. I screamed very loudly at him.

I’m not sure which was more scary. Me yelling at a skater boy to fuck off and leave me alone in an extremely high pitched yelp or my approaching them using moves and a pitch my dad couldn’t even come up with.

Either way, I plan on continuing my tour through the woods, but only once I’ve purchased some high quality pepper spray.

My blog is entirely too easy to find.

For the most part, it doesn’t really bother me. I talk about it openly and even keep a link to it on my Facebook, one click away from virtually everyone who knows me. (I feel like “virtually” may have been a poor word choice, as I am talking about the people who know me personally, not just virtually…if that makes sense.) I have convinced myself that my family and anyone who has ever known me on a professional level are either way too busy to read my little ole’ site, or they just don’t care.

If you read this  and you know me in real life, you probably know that, even in person I am  extremely candid and am not afraid of sharing personal information when provoked, or even when I’m not.

And if you do know me and I get on your nerves, make you uncomfortable,  you think I’m too crass, or you think I drink too much, then you probably don’t enjoy reading my blog and therefore do not come here except to make fun of my life. If that is the case,  the pleasure is all mine because I live to be laughed at.

So basically what I’m trying to say is that I really hope y’all enjoy what you read and keep coming back for more, but if you don’t- then please do not tell me so because I like to believe everyone likes me.

Never mind.

However, I’ve recently realized there are a few instances where I believe that my beloved blog may be a teensy weensy bit of a problem.

The first thing I worry about is my career.

I purposely do not write about my work.  I’m mostly happy in what I do, but you never know when you’ll end up back on unemployment and needing to look for a job. If that happens, I’m not too excited about potential employees googling my email and finding this site. But I suppose I won’t worry about that until it happens.

The other instance in which I have found that my blog has been a little bit of a hinder, is in meeting new people, face to face.

While I may share way too much information with you about my own personal issues, I choose never to talk about my private relationships, more specifically- dating. This is mostly because that part of my life is incredibly boring and mostly inactive, but also I feel some things should be kept private.

Similarly, I’m not so sure how I feel about the fact that guys that I meet who have the potential for dating, are able to easily read about my idiosyncrasies, or about the time I took out a tampon whilst driving. I don’t want an anonymous blog and I like for my friends to be able to easily read, but I’m a little torn on this matter.

I guess this is something I’ll have to figure out for myself, but let me know if you have any advice.

In other news, I’m trying an experiment this week that may take me away from the computer a bit. Over the last few months I’ve noticed that I have been drinking a little more during the week than I feel is appropriate. Oh no, don’t go saying “I told you so, you have a problem.” This is not the case.

My problem is not of the drinking variety, so much as it is of the sleeping variety. A few hours before I go to sleep, I start to get extremely anxious- and come to the conclusion that I’ll probably never be able to fall asleep until 4 in the morning, I will miss work or be late, and then I’ll end up jobless and living on the streets feigning a crack addiction so I can get welfare. So as to avoid this scenario, I have taken to having a cocktail or a few glasses of wine before bed.

While it does help me to sleep, I don’t want to be one of those people who drinks every single night. I drink on weekends because I enjoy it, not because I need it to have a good time. I don’t particularly enjoy feeling the need to rely on alcohol for anything. And this is why I’m taking a break this week.

I know it’s really not that big of a deal, I’m only going until Halloween… but until then- not a single drop. I would really like to prove to myself that I can sleep like normal people. In order to achieve this goal, (as well as to fit into my Halloween skirt) I am also upping the gym time this week ten-fold. So bear with me if I’m a little grouchy and tired. Working out and not drinking can do that to a girl.

I will leave you today with a little gem from my email archives. A few months ago, one of my guy friends had a misunderstanding with his girlfriend. After many drinks, my friend left the following message on another one of my guy friend’s voice mail. Guy friend #2 then transcribed the message, for my- and now your, enjoyment.

“Fuck you not answering my call, I think you just fucking denied me.  I just wanted to talk about how girls are fuckin…….well they’re just fucking, i don’t know.  They’re just big fuckin vagina’s, i guess they do have vagina’s, but i like vagina’s.  But they’re just big fuckin bitches, a bitch bag, a big bag of douche.  I fuckin hate em, i’m just going to be asexual and jack myself off for the rest of my life.  I’d be a lot happier.  Hope your having fun…..Later”

Happy Monday everyone!