You are so not working with a monster

Why must guys sit like their legs hate each other? On a subway no less.

I make it my civil duty to sit next to them hoping they hurt something.

Douches.
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Welcome to my little bubble. You are more than welcome to set up shop

I don't know what the hell is going on in the world right now. All I know is they have now replaced the letter M with B when referring to economical problems and my brain cannot grasp that amount of money. And now my bank is Chase? which really pisses me off because I specifically chose WaMu because I like saying it.

But the good news is I do have a Cafe du Monde coffee can to put the $12.83 I possess just in case we are transported back to the depression. The bad news, I don't have a yard to bury it in.

September 29, 2007

Exactly a year ago I was on a plane embarking on this new chapter of my life.
I don't even know that girl anymore.
My, how time flies and how much you can change in as little as one year.
One down, a few more to go before it's time to reaccess the situation.

Not what I was expecting.

If this was you, that hurt.

Have I mentioned

I love my roommates?!
They were serious about the formal dinner and we are probably not eating until midnight.
And it's ok. That's how we roll.
But we are all drunk. I am in charge of reading the directions for the Baked Alaska dessert for my roommate but I can't read and she refuses to do what I tell her.

The living room has been rearranged. We have a table setting. We will all put formal wear on and be ready in 5 minutes and I am not sure how good of a plan it is to put the bridesmaids dress on.
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The experiment was a SUCCESS!!

I ZIPPED THE DRESS!
Now I can't breathe. I could feel my ribs becoming one with the material. But it zips, that's all that matters. The pills were a success, but I'm going to quit taking them until next week, they were making me a little crazy. I haven't slept right all week.
Last night, I watched the entire Season Premier of Grey's Anatomy (did anyone else think it was a little over the top? I mean a karmatic icicle? come on!) with it on in the hopes that if I continue to put it on, I will stretch the fabric (I need to fit a bra in there because I do not want to go down the Duck tape route.)
So tonight, the roomies and I have decided we are going to eat dinner in formal wear. Aren't they sweet? Even their friend visiting from Oklahoma is going to wear a sports coat. How much fun!

Is today over with?

Just checking.

So that's what this feels like.

I just read the bottle properly. It says one pill is equal to 1-2 cups of coffee. And I've been taking them religiously every 4 hours on the hour. No wonder I couldn't go to bed last night and I woke up A GODDAMN HOUR late this morning. I think I'm one pill away from singing "I'm so excited" Jessie Spano style.

And even in the midst of all the freaking out, I still played "How am I going to get away with wearing a T-shirt to work?" and I think I pulled it off nicely if I do say so myself.

East Village Idiot makes me want a pet. They sell Chinese Fighting Fish at a store in my neighborhood. I used to have a slue of them in college. Maybe I can keep this one alive longer than the last. I don't know if I'm up for that kind of commitment though. My attention span is a shortcoming I have just come to accept and it seems to be diminishing with every pill I take.

My fingertips are holding onto the cracks in our foundation

(Thanks, Traci Anne. I am obsessed with Kate Nash now. Foundations is on repeat.)

I think I am going to designate Wednesdays as Wacky Wednesdays where I wear whatever I grab in the dark and the less it matches the better. Today I have on Red and Yellow. It's Fabulous. Plus, I have decided I'm going to randomly choose No-Chi days, where I go out of the house without my hair straightened and see how many people I can scare. I might have to try a little harder, seeing as this is New York City, but no worries. I will think of something to entertain myself.

And these water pills have a warning not to consume as much caffeine while taking them, but I just read that and I've already had 3 cups. No wonder I'm dancing around with a ruler and there is a pain in my chest. We will just call this an experiment and I'll be back later to let you know if I survived.

I can do this.

"Sometimes you just have to take the leap,
and build your wings on the way down."
Kobi Yamada

I will not fall for boys?

Personally, seeing as Webster Hall is a concert venue/club, I would think the appropriate phrase for their bathroom would be "I will not fall in toilet" or "I will not puke outside of the bowl" or "I will not bust my ass down the marble stairs".

This is how random my life is. I'm at some concert for a band Cut Copy? Never heard of them, a co worker threw the tickets at me. I was planning on going to see Tyler Read, who is from Shreveport, LA- or planning on sleeping or going to the gym.

But now I'm spending money I shouldn't and consuming alcohol I shouldn't. But it's Bacardi and Diet- that's lo cal according to the commercial. I just won't eat tomorrow.
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I am fat

Ok. Not really, but fat enough.
Its the end of September. Am I the only one who just realized this?!
So this is what I'm going to live off of and set up residence at the gym for the next week.
Then cry when I'm the fat and ugly bridesmaid.
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I have a quota to fill.

freddie: Are you done being crazy for today?
me: its too early in the morning to commit to something
like that
freddie: Fear of commitment. That's your issue.
me: you think I'm afraid of committing myself?! I would
gladly in a heartbeat if I could convince the people with the whitejackets I really am crazy not just neurotic

The morning agenda.

I planned my wedding on the train this morning. I have all the songs we are going to dance to at the reception and the father/ daughter dance is going to be really cute.
It's going to be fabulous!
I'm thinking some time in 2020?
Hope yall can make it!
I hope I can still dance the 1st dance with my husband and I'm not in a walker.
No, I haven't found husband material yet, hence the date, but that's the only detail I haven't nailed down yet.

don't trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn't die

I really hate finding out I am not as unique as I thought I was.

Except for this.

Apparently I'm not as weird as I thought I was in this department. As added bonus to mother nature's monthly gift, she likes to take away my immune system in the process (sorry to all those that are friends with me on FB. If you can put 2 and 2 together, YaY for TMI!) Most girls only have the warning zit to announce the arrival of their monthly friend but I suddenly get cold like symptoms for no reason. It took me awhile to figure out these two things were related. Once I did, I thought I was the only one. For years I purposely skip that special week of placebo-ness and jump right into the next pack of Birth Control because I want to avoid that feeling like the plague. Seriously, the PMS symptoms are enough to deal with and then to top them off with a cold? By skipping that week all together I think I am doing the world one hell of a service. But nowadays there seems to be no reason to be so strict with the BC (seeing as I don't have a steady boyfriend and the next time I decide to have sex it will be with someone I love- yes I am aware I sound like a 12 year old girl right now) so I forget. often. I only remember when it's too late. Like now.

So now the blogosphere knows a little too much about me but at least I shared and some poor girl won't feel like she's the only one. Please share if you know how to stop this or keep it under control.

Did this make any sense to anyone but me? Please forgive me, I have mixed way too many medications and no one informed me that a B12 is the legal equivalent of crack.

The north is seeping into my pores.

I just got called out for saying "You Guys" instead of "Y'all".

I think that is the most depressing thing ever.

Now I must go have a Come to Jesus meeting with the mirror. Please tell me you know what a Come to Jesus meeting is, but if you don't know that's ok. At least I still have that part of the south instilled in me. I do conduct a damn good Come to Jesus meeting if I do say so myself.

All work, no play.

I have come to the conclusion that I cannot work overtime every night this week and go to the gym. It is just not going to happen. And I'm ok with that.

I can barely squeeze my fat ass into a bridesmaid's dress that I need to wear in about 3 weeks (fyi: if you are ever cursed into being one of these and the bride hates you and makes you go through David's Bridal: always make them take your measurements. Do not rely on that floor sample. Do you know how many people squeeze into those daily?! People who know their actual sizes and know better. I swear the size 6 would fit a size 16! I know b/c I ordered the 6. j/k. j/k. ) and I'm ok with that. I will just have to resort to the old fashioned college diet and water pills.

It's really boring when you're the only one in the office, btw.

clean up on Aisle 7

I think it is safe to state I am a hot mess today.

Someone had to have added caffeine to the coffee I've been drinking because I am jittery and bouncing off of the walls. And speaking of bouncing balls, I have just been dribbling a rubber band ball up and down the cubicles. Hopefully I made a dent in annoying the construction workers downstairs the way they have been annoying me. But sadly, I think it's only convinced my coworkers they want to ring my neck more than usual.

and the heel of my shoe broke off.
damn P.O.S.

I need to focus.

And why did white people ever stop dancing?




oh. that's why.

On Wednesdays we wear pink

and I have every fucking shade of it on.

No lie. I went crazy in the pink department this morning. I was a little concerned about walking out of the house looking like a giant piece of bubble gum, but hey this is New York City. Kermit the Frog walks around Broadway daily (this woman is literally head to toe in green- including her hair. Now that I think about it she might be a Ninja Turtle. She always has this green backpack on. I would try to get a picture for proof, but you will just have to trust me. I can't be that tacky. Who am I to mock self expression?) So I did it- and no one took a double take, except I'm sure to see who the hell the Glamazon was (wearing heels today, too!). Of course I run into a co-worker as I'm smoking my morning cigarette who came over just to tell me how much my outfit brightened his day.



In other news, even if I am having trouble being patient and focusing, at least I can say meditation has helped out during the morning commute.

The subway was recockulously packed this fabulous morning. MTA blamed there sparse availability on a sick passenger but I'm blaming it on incompetent conductors. The car was so packed I was becoming close friends with some chick's really bad dye job (and I think I drank a few strands in my morning coffee- gross I know but I needed to prove my point). I closed my eyes and imagined I was one with the pole, swaying in the wind on some desolate island, instead of swaying with the subway car bumping into people. I focused on my breathing- particularly my mouth breathing (for the love of all that is holy what the fuck do some of these people roll around in?!). I was trying to channel a serious sinus attack, imitating a greasy Guido in a really cheesy club- anything to help me breathe normally through my mouth. I messed up a few times and those small whiffs were enough to bring tears to my eyes. It was a very long and painful commute this morning to say the least.



It's really interesting how once you give up being angry, the world around you is quite amusing.

Super Duper Nifty Cool

My new skullcandy headphones came in today making me quite the happy camper. Right now I'm rigorously testing them to make sure the guy sitting next to me on the train tomorrow cannot hear Celine Dion and my heart will go on.
Super cute, huh?
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Roof Access

Ok so technically we don't have it, but that didn't stop us from nearly losing our lady parts (the floor on the inside of our apt and the fire escape are not level, therefore making it difficult to climb out of the window without being fearful of a female circumcision) and climbing the rickety old fire escape 6 flights (have I mentioned I'm scared of heights and a smoker? I think that was more of a workout then the one I had at the gym earlier) to see the full moon. I took a picture of it but this one seemed so much cooler.
The George Washington Bridge is literally right outside and you can see The Chrysler and The Empire State Building, too!

Come visit me and I'll show you! But next time we're totally taking the elevator.
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I can do better.

For the record, I am a terrible judge of character (which suddenly explains the long list of douchebag ex-boyfriends). This is something I have just recently learned and hate admitting. But since I have come to this conclusion, a lot of things have finally been brought to light. I might not be a masochist after all. I might just be a terribly misguided unfortunate soul.

(I had this whole multi-paragraphed post explaining how I came to this conclusion, but I decided it's a little premature. If things progress the way I want them to, I will be more than happy to share the good news. I'm probably jumping the gun but for right now I'm happy.)

Until then, it is safe to say from this realization I'm a little bit infatuated and a lot giddy.

Out dorking myself everyday

Does anyone else get excited by office supply stores?
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Best. Movie. Day. Ever.

I have set up camp on the couch. Have you even looked at your TV guide today?
Best. Movie. Day. Ever!
If I was still 8 I would totally set up an actual tent and never leave. Well, that might still happen, if I can find enough pillows and blankets.

The Princess Bride is coming on in 20 minutes. Have I mentioned that's my favorite movie ever?
Even if I wasn't waiting for the stupor to come fix the continual running toilet, I still don't think I would be moving from the couch.

There is a Nancy Drew TV show on ABC Family AND I just saw a commercial for Pizza Hut Pizzones- does New York even have Pizza Hut?? Holy Shit, Grey's Anatomy 2 hour season premier Sept. 25th. . . TV were have you been all my life?!

When you move like a jellyfish, Rhythm is nothing. You go with the flow.

If you would only listen

You might just realize what you're missing

You're missing me

Bubbletoes- Jack Johnson

My supervisor told me I am a sick individual- mainly because I'm not afraid to speak my mind hence the truth and it happens to be quite hysterical. She has the ill-fated luck of sharing an office space with me and spends the day laughing at the shit that comes out of my mouth. At least someone gets entertainment out of my frustration with the special ed community.(Speaking of the special ed community, 2 of my co-workers proceeded to get themselves locked in their office today. seriously. you can't make this shit up) She also told me I have the most sense of anyone she has ever met, but I like to pretend I don't. I told her it was very unfortunate that she figured me out, because now I have to kill her.

I just discovered Google Books and my productivity has just dropped another 20%. Which is ok seeing as this week it went up 75%. I made this realization around 2pm and closed up shop to shop.

I decided I didn't need a new ipod but the new yellow one would make a fabulous addition to my collection. I also found a pink mini on eBay but I thought better of getting it. Even though I would feel really cool on the streets of New York sporting a throwback. I must stop talking about this though. Little Rambo is getting jealous (don't tell me you didn't name yours. really? Well, I will be more than happy to name it for you! just let me know what kind it is).

I did buy 2 books at half.com though, but I'm reading this one about past lives on Google Books until it comes in. I also bought another one on Tao and I'm going to start meditating everyday. Last night was my first try and I think I did something wrong. How you meditate wrong, I will never know but I woke up this morning with my core feeling like a tar pit. I am 100% positive it has nothing to do with the fact I fill my lungs with actual tar and toxins at least 10 times a day.

I think my soul forgot to get on the A-train this morning.

I nearly chocked on my coffee at this one.

And speaking of the damn bible, I didn't realize I hadn't been preached to in awhile. Until some douchebag was nearly screaming scripture on the train the morning. Forcing me to close my David Sedaris book and up the volume on my ipod- which I noticed everyone around me was doing, too. People like that should be forced to live on their own crazy island so they only inflict the power of god onto others who want to be annoyed. Scratch that. ANOTHER crazy island, not this one.

In case you are concerned about my soul (because I sure as hell am)- don't worry, I'm working on finding it. I think I lost it between 1996-1999, along with a lot of brain cells and some common sense. I am currently on a mission. A soul searching mission because I have a feeling when I find it a lot of my questions will be answered.

Anyone else gone on a soul searching mission- that does not involve organized religion? Any discoveries you would like to share with the group? If you're shy, you can email me I would love to hear about it!

This is what is important to me today.

There is French Roast coffee in the kitchen.
But don't tell anyone because if you do, I will be forced to kill you. If I have to drink Mocha Nut Fudge ever again, I will cry.

Road Trip Remix: The epitome of playlists.

I've had a car since I was 15 and there was nothing about driving I hated. Seeing as I am such a control freak, I was usually the driver anyway and I was fine with it.

So, now that I have moved to New York City, I left my VW Jetta in New Orleans in the care of my sister (which I'm still not sure that was a good plan. j/k Seester, if you read this. There would be no one better suited to take care of my precious Betta Chedda Jetta.) and traded it in for public transportation.

Public transportation. I get the idea. YaY for being green and saving the planet and all that other crap some crazy new aged hippies are spouting out. Having a car in New York City is impractical and hella expensive without the hike in gas prices- we all know this. Even with all this, jamming 600 people in a subway car that only fits 100 for the first 30 minutes I am awake will never appeal to me. On a good day, I do get a seat and I do get to either read or sleep (two things you can't do in morning traffic on the interstate). Those are fabulous perks, but forfeiting my personal space to people who don't know what deodorant and toothbrushes are? The jury is still out on that. And above all, I miss singing and dancing in the car!

So, it's been awhile since I have been in a car for an extended period of time. I used to love the four hour drive from home to college. It was a fabulous uninterrupted 4 hours I used to clear my head that would only be interrupted by stupid drivers and the occasional drive thru attendant asking me if I wanted fries with that (My favorite tradition was to go to the McDonald's in one of the podunk towns at the half way mark and get a chocolate shake. Didn't help with the Freshman/ Senior 20 but it made me happy). I mastered driving with one foot up on the dashboard and balancing a cigarette on the steering wheel while perfecting what is now referred to as my "car dance" (which was then distributed throughout my sorority with an 8-count during the 2003 Spring Break debacle). Being in a car is literally being in my own little bubble. My own little world where I can be as ME as I want. . .and I am 10 kinds of retarded. I'm sure the rest of you feel the same way when you're not in traffic on the way to/ from work, running errands on a Saturday, Contraflow, etc.

In a little less than a month, I will be driving the 2.5 hours from New Orleans to Pensacola for one of my dearest sorority sister's wedding and I'm completely stoked. 2.5 hours in a car. By myself. Free to listen to all the gay ass music I can stomach (I'm not talking cheesy girlie pop- I listen to that with pride. I'm talking Chicago/ Barry Manilow cheesy. Oh yes. That is on my ipod and I'm not afraid to admit it) and sing on the top of my lungs until my throat hurts- 2 things I cannot and will not ever attempt on my commute to Midtown, by the way. (There are enough things people can label me crazy for and those are way to cliche for my style.)

THE POINT (for those of you who skipped/ skimmed. I know who you are and I'm not offended. I do it too): I am starting early and constructing the perfect playlist for the drive there and back. I need FIVE hours of music. I have a few songs in mind, especially the ones that tempt me to rock out on the subway (off the top of my head I'm thinking Skillet or Three Days Grace)- but I want to hear from YOU.

What songs make you want to grab a hairbrush and belt it out like Whitney Houston? Jump around like middle class white girl on speed?

You get the idea.

Birthday Blues

Me: Dude, I'm going to be in my late 20s next birthday. That's so
depressing.
NGB: Yea, mainly because you don't have a life
Me: Not cool.
NGB: or a boyfriend.
Me: Yea, now we're not friends.

TUESDAY

I almost forgot to tell yall!
If you haven't noticed my new favorite derogatory term is douche. douchebag. DB. D-bag. (which reminds me of when I was a kid and I called my Uncle that because that's what my dad called him while they watched Sunday football. He laughed and told me to call him a dirtbag instead)

Back on point, I was introduced to the female version of this. What a Tuesday.
(Are you familiar with acronyms? C U Next Tuesday.)
I can't take credit for it. A friend of my friend's mother introduced us to it because like many females, she does not like using that word but will call your Grandma a Tuesday.

In other news, it is now almost Wednesday and I still haven't recovered from Saturday night's marathon, my lower back is killing me and for the past 2 days I have been living off of carbs, pizza, chips, chocolate and ice cream and the after effects are not the same as every sleepover party I attended between the ages of 10 and 14. At least this time my bra didn't end up in the freezer.

It's Fashion Week

And no one speaks English. Bryant Park has turned into another country.
But everyone smokes.
Fabulous.
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Courage in women is often mistaken for insanity.

This morning on the way to the subway (please note before I had a sip of my morning coffee) I was bombarded by a politician asking for my vote. I didn't even know it was election time? I don't know. Something about primaries? I don't even know where my polling place is in my neighborhood and I just filled out the form for change of address (Can't wait for Jury Duty!- note, there is no sarcasm there) like 2 weeks ago. I don't think I can vote yet, right? I'm so far behind on this crap, I'm a terrible American.


Anywho, I got to work this morning and I got this email. Maybe I should check into voting after all?

WHY WOMEN SHOULD VOTE.

This is the story of our Grandmothers and Great-grandmothers; they lived only 90 years ago. Remember, it was not until 1920 that women were granted the right to go to the polls and vote. The women were innocent and defenseless, but they were jailed nonetheless for picketing the White House, carrying signs asking for the vote. And by the end of the night, they were barely alive. Forty prison guards wielding clubs and their warden's blessing went on a rampage against the 33 women wrongly convicted of 'obstructing sidewalk traffic.'

(Lucy Burns)
They beat Lucy Burns, chained her hands to the cell bars above her head and left her hanging for the night, bleeding and gasping for air.

(Dora Lewis)
They hurled Dora Lewis into a dark cell, smashed her head against an iron bed and knocked her out cold. Her cellmate, Alice Cosu, thought Lewis was dead and suffered a heart attack. Additional affidavits describe the guards grabbing, dragging, beating, choking, slamming, pinching, twisting and kicking the women.

Thus unfolded the 'Night of Terror' on Nov. 15, 1917,
when the warden at the Occoquan Workhouse in Virginia ordered his guards to teach a lesson to the suffragists imprisoned there because they dared to picket Woodrow Wilson's White House for the right to vote. For weeks, the women's only water came from an open pail. Their food--all of it colorless slop--was infested with worms.

(Alice Paul)
When one of the leaders, Alice Paul, embarked on a hunger strike, they tied her to a chair, forced a tube down her throat and poured liquid into her until she vomited. She was tortured like this for weeks until word was smuggled out to the press.

So, refresh my memory. Some women won't vote this year because-
-why, exactly? We have carpool duties? We have to get to work?
Our vote doesn't matter? It's raining?

Last week, I went to a sparsely attended screening of HBO's new movie 'Iron Jawed Angels.' It is a graphic depiction of the battle these women waged so that I could pull the curtain at the polling booth and have my say. I am ashamed to say we need the reminder.

All these years later, voter registration is still my passion. But the actual act of voting had become less personal for me, more routine. Frankly, voting often felt more like an obligation than a privilege. Sometimes it was inconvenient.

My friend Wendy, who is my age and studied women's history, saw the HBO movie, too. When she stopped by my desk to talk about it, she looked angry. She was--with herself. 'One thought kept coming back to me as I watched that movie,' she said. 'What would those women think of the way I use, or don't use, my right to vote? All of us take it for granted now, not just younger women, but those of us who did seek to learn.' The right to vote, she said, had become valuable to her 'all over again.'

HBO released the movie on video and DVD . I wish all history, social studies and government teachers would include the movie in their curriculum I want it shown on Bunco night, too, and anywhere else women gather. I realize this isn't our usual idea of socializing, but we are not voting in the numbers that we should be, and I think a little shock therapy is in order.

It is jarring to watch Woodrow Wilson and his cronies try to persuade a psychiatrist to declare Alice Paul insane so that she could be permanently institutionalized. And it is inspiring to watch the doctor refuse. Alice Paul was strong, he said, and brave. That didn't make her crazy.

The doctor admonished the men: 'Courage in women is often mistaken for insanity.'

Please, if you are so inclined, pass this on to all the women you know.

We need to get out and vote and use this right that was fought so hard for by these very courageous women. Whether you vote democratic, republican or independent party - remember to vote.

History is being made.

27 minutes in

and I'm already bored with Gossip Girl this season. Granted, I didn't watch last week's eppy, but I don't think it matters much.

All I know is One Tree Hill better rock my socks (even though I missed last week's eppy as well.)

Is it just me or is this season not as exciting?
On this plus side, I have eaten garlic pizza again for dinner. I have a feeling it will be seeping out of my pours tomorrow. YaY for the person sitting next to me on the train in the morning.

Garlic on Pizza?

Have you ever heard of something so insane?
I think this is a North vs. South thing, because all I've ever known to put on my pizza is a butt load of parmesan cheese (after I pat it dry of all the grease. . .which seems to be a staple of New York Pizza). I don't even recall garlic being an option in the South. . . or am I wrong?

I was first introduced to this phenomenon on my weekend trip to Jersey. We went to an Italian Bistro and split a pizza. The waitress asked if we would like "fixins" and I said sure. She brought out 3 bottles, none of which were cheese. That's when I decided, when in Rome. . . .

now I'm addicted.
I had to have it for lunch- another craving from the drunken night out. The last time I tried to reenact how good it was in Jersey, I accidentally put plain salt- that was fabulous. Now I stink to high heaven, but at least if I run into a vampire I will be safe (except Edward Cullen. . . ) but for making out? Not so much.

And for the record, I never understood the raving over New York pizza. It tasted like pizza to me, nothing special. Then I tired to eat pizza somewhere else. . .looks like I'm ruined forever.

Why drinking regularly is good.

Because it keeps your tolerance up and therefore when someone throws a sick party, you can party like you are still 20. You will be able to drink and dance and stay up until 6am without breaking a sweat over it. You will not make rookie mistakes, like drinking too fast, flirting with the wrong guys and drunk dialing. You will be fabulous.

But if you don't drink regularly, you will feel the after effects for days including, but not limited to, a sore body (or in my case, a sore thigh muscle- for which I have no idea why), overly tiredness, irritability and the unknown reason to eat everything in sight from the comfort of your own bed, which you will only leave to pee and smoke (or in my case to do laundry, which was a must and to go to Chipotle to eat everything on the menu). You will also most likely sleep through plans you were looking forward to the next day (i.e. football games at a bar full of other Saints fans, majority I'm going to assume would be hot available men).

So remember kiddies, drinking on a regular basis is a good thing, not just a symptom of being an alcoholic.

Beach Broadway?

When I first saw this, I thought it was a lifeguard stand in the middle of Time Square. I'm assuming they put it up in concurrence with the craptastic idea of making a lane of Broadway into a park (I'm just waiting for someone to get hit by a taxi because essentially you are sitting in the middle of the damn road). Either way, it made me laugh.

And to those bitches doing their make up in Sephora for Friday night festivities slowing me down from getting the hell out of midtown:
You. Are. Tacky.
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I am extremely

B
O
R
E
D.

It seems the only thing that gets me through the day is talking to friends on AIM and the majority are either still evacuated, without power or off of work for this week. Gustav, you suck ass.

And we all know when left to my own devices to entertain myself, it gets interesting.

I might actually have to resort to. . . . working. ewwwww. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.

My bangs need to be trimmed. Maybe I will do that.

Life imitating art?

I don't know why this makes me so happy, but it does.

Word is Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling are back together.

How cute are they?!?!

This would be the reinactment from the movie, The Notebook, after they won for best kiss. Yet again, sorry about all the Ryan Gosling and the celebrity gossip.

Just because I'm losing, doesn't mean I'm lost

Or maybe it does.

I was fine in Jersey surrounded by others with family down south. It was ok. We reminisced, we made sure everyone we knew was safe (even though half my idiot friends stayed and no matter how much begging would convince them not to). We were glad we were relocated to an area that doesn't deal with this.

Now I'm home and the world continues to revolve. I hate being away from my family during this again. I wasn't with them for Katrina either but at least I was with my two best friends. I hate that such catastrophic events stay with you. I feel like a war veteran experiencing post tramatic stress.

Anyone have a Valium?
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