GIVE ME BACK THAT FILET O FISH

I inadvertently ate raw red tuna last night.

(Anyone who has ever met me knows of my disdain for seafood - it literally scares me. And raw little fishies? NO. EFFING. WAY. So this whole idea is new to me.)

Joe and I went to Pascales for a lovely dinner. We were stuck in a corner (of course... who else goes to a "high class food establishment" dressed in jeans and a hoodie but us?) but it was still worth it. Ordered a bottle of Rose - which ironically was their cheapest bottle of wine - and were served some delicious olive bread with whipped butter and an olive oil dippy sauce that seemed to be infused with sage? a really strong oregano? weed? that I wasn't a big fan of... whatever.

For an appetizer I ordered some cheese and prosciutto-filled chive pasta things (Joe had a seafood salad... ewww) and when the waitress brought my dish out, I didn't THINK it was what I ordered... namely because it smelled ASIAN. But hey, I love Asian food and Pascales is all about wacky looking dishes, so I didn't say anything. The little salad part was delicious and next to it were meaty-looking chunks of something encrusted in black sesame seeds covered in an spicy BBQ sauce - I figured it was just oddly cut prosciutto so I popped one in my mouth.

It wasn't salty like prosciutto.

Actually it really just tasted like sesame seeds and Asian sauce.

YUMMY.

So I gave a piece to Joe, thinking he could pinpoint what it was - he agreed that it probably wasn't prosciutto but remarked that he didn't think it was fish - it didn't taste fishy.

Then the waitress came running over.

Waitress: "OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY."
Me: "...."
Waitress: "I gave you the wrong appetizer!"
Me: "I thought it looked funny but it's delicious so I don't care."
Waitress: (pulling the plate away) "Yours is in the oven! I just grabbed the wrong tray and gave you the tuna dish instead."
Me: (laughing hysterically) "I HATE FISH!"
Waitress: "I'M SO SORRY!"
Me: (still laughing) "BUT I LIKED IT I WANT IT BACK!"
Waitress: "I'll bring yours out in a minute!"
Me: "GIVE ME BACK MY ASIAN TUNAS."

...I really liked raw tuna.

I'm scared for my life.

For what it's worth, she brought out my real appetizer really quickly and it was equally delicious but since then I've been craving Asian food like whoa. I got filet mignon for dinner with a bergnaise sauce atop smashed potatos (with some sort of oniony garlicy goodness) and blanched green beans... a dish that was deceptively enormous. I couldn't bear any dessert but am still dreaming of that espresso-infused cheesecake with fudge bottom that the dessert trolley man kept bringing around...

But fuck. I think I like fish.

epic post is epic... or not

Ok, Don wins.

I'm putting aside the massive cleaning duties I have in preparation for the Canadianians to get here tonight (mainly because it's five boys and I don't think they care at all how messy my apartment is, but mostly because they won't be getting here 'til after midnight and I'm going to have a lot of nothing to do while waiting). I'm putting these aside because it's time.

Time for Magnum. 25 Hates for You.

(Magnum up, bitches.)

1) I severly dislike the sound of cats chasing eachother across the apartment. The poor downstairs neighbors must think we've got a zoo up here, because my roommates' cats are always stampeding at eachother. It would probably be ok if this apartment were carpeted, but we have hardwood floors. And it's fucking obnoxious. And I might throw one or both out the window.

2) I hate when other people drink my beer and they don't ask. I don't often buy beer... I'd rather have something vodka with cherry... but when I come home from a hard day of work, sometimes I just want to crack open a nice Leinie. And when there are none, I will get angry. Granted, the culprit is typically "gracious" enough to leave me a fiver, but lets do the math: Leinies cost me $8 for a six-pack. You drank five of them. Plus you inconvenience me into running up the block to get another six-pack. Pretty sure this equation doesn't work out...

3) I hate bunnies doing dig-dug at 4am.

4) I hate that people look at me like I'm nine kinds of crazy when I say I can't taste the difference between Pepsi and Coke... or Diet and Regular. THEY DON'T TASTE ANY DIFFERENT. This applies also to different fats in milk and different brands of vodka. All the same, folks, please move along and take your mutant taste buds elsewhere.

5) I don't like coughing. Coughing triggers my gag reflex and causes me to throw up.

6) I hate when people call tattoos "tats." "Tat" refers to the art of making lace. Unless someone hand-stitched lace to your forearm, you do not have a wrist tat. On the same line, I hate when people call stretching their ears "gauging." "Gauging" is the act of measuring. I'm pretty sure stretching != measuring. Yes, I'm elitist when it comes to body modification... it's totally fine and hivemind.

7) I hate when my mother sends me picture messages of cows. A) I can't see them unless I log onto a website, and B) they're cows. In retaliation, I email her pictures of dog and cat macros that she doesn't understand.

8) I have a big problem with people who interchange "there," "their," and "they're." These are not all the same word. Did you take ANY grammar lessons in elementary school, or did your parents teach you that you ain't gotta know nothin' 'bout phonics if you spend the rest of your life hunting in a shack in the middle of the Appalachian mountains?

9) I hate swimming in any unchlorinated body of water. This includes (but is not limited to) the ocean, any lakes/rivers/ponds, and dirty bathtubs.

10) I don't like when people talk at my boobs. My boobs do not have ears. Additionally, I have ears on my face... a face to which you should be addressing. Also, I know my boobs are awesome/huge/gorgeous/you want to motorboat them. Are you my boyfriend? Then no, I don't care.

11) I hate eating too many salt-and-vinager chips and my tongue gets numb.

12) I hate Syracuse University. I know I've ranted about the college one-too-many times and I might be contacted sometime in the near future in a cease-and-desist order, but seriously. It saddens me that most people that attend that school are the face of my future. I'm sorry, if you think North Face-spandex-Ugg boots-Aviators is a legit outfit to be wearing in public, I probably will never want you to be my lawyer/doctor/psychologist.

13) I don't like Twitter. Nobody has enough actual friends to warrant updating the world about their life every 60 seconds. And you know how you friended Ashton Kutcher and Britney Spears? Sorry, they're not really your friends. They don't care that you're hungover or have a doctor's appointment that you're late for.

14) I hate that there are people who believe that they THEMSELVES are not in charge of their own destiny. What's the point of living if some higher being is just deciding what you're going to do anyway? (This message is brought to you by Ash Wednesday.)

15) I really dislike when people call themselves "foodies." You sound like an idiot. Guess what? I love food too. Pretty sure most people do.

16) I hate homophobia.

17) I hate pencils that you have to sharpen. Why would you use those when you could use the ones that just click or spin up to give you more lead?

18) I hate that people think politics is a black and white issue. Not in the race sense, but in a right and wrong sense. I also hate that this yields politics to be bipartisan. Our country will never get anything accomplished until we stop thinking in blue and red... how about PURPLE?

19) I hate that it's really hard for such a cynic like me to come up with 25 things that I absolutely loathe.

20) I really dislike the NFL... sorry Don. Oh my god, look at me, I'm a huge man that can run and knock people down and do silly dances when I bring balls into the end zone. (Oh my god, look at me, I'm a girl who can run and knock people down and do silly dances when I bring balls into MY end zone...)

21) I hate that more people are fans of area college sports over our city's sports. How come 40K people show up to SU basketball games but only 1,000 show up for Chiefs games?

22) I hate that I can go into Target and buy $50 worth of crap that I'll never need or wear. Target = cocaine, apparently.

23) I really dislike people who spend $500 on stupid brand-name pets. Your labradoodle? Is a mutt. I can get a mutt for $50 at the animal shelter and that dog will be more grateful for life than yours is.

24) I hate wearing anything but thongs. Perhaps it's because I have no ass, but if I wear a full-bottomed bloomer, my jeans will just slide right off my butt. When my buttcheeks are free to breathe, my pants stay up. Also, if I can see your panties through your skin-tight jeans, it's cause for concern.

25) I hate that I have mini-panic attacks all day long, every day. I worry about locking my keys in my car, that my car will be stolen, that my earrings won't match my shirt, that my hair isn't brushed correctly, that my pants are drooping funny, that I'm wearing not enough or too much makeup, that my room is messy, that I forgot to wash my dish and their will be a note from my passive-aggressive roommate on the stove, that my bunny will escape, that I'll crash into a car... and that was all in the last two hours.

AND A BONUS!

26) I hate that my hands and wrists really hurt after writing this... I fear that I have carpal tunnel =/

fuck you cuse DPW

I took a sick day yesterday. (Actually, FWIW, I went into work for 10 minutes to let Sarah and Bob know I wasn't going to stay). My plan of taking lots of Nyquil and sleeping was rendered useless because I was driving around and pretty awake at that point, so I shoved some Dayquil in my face, went to Target (and bought a cardigan) and then tanning. Then I met Joe downtown for what should have been a quick lunch, but apparently Bull & Bear doesn't understand that not everyone can take extended lunches...

I'm still feeling pretty useless today. I can't really concentrate on anything and would give my left arm to just go lay in bed (but not fall asleep... just lay there). I've been saying the last few days that I neeeeeed to go down to Armory Square to get a new septum retainer and visit Nate but the thought of fighting traffic and people with such little energy doesn't seem like a great idea. However, it's super nice out today and I'm thinking I could just walk down there - perhaps that'll wake me up.

Despite the fact that it's 50 degrees outside (and I'm wearing just a hoodie and still feel a bit warm), apparently Syracuse DPW doesn't think it's warm enough for the snow to just MELT away naturally because they were out at THREE AM removing snow on East Willow Street. THREE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING. With their beepy machines and revving engines and "CHOPCHOPCHOP" of their ice picks and men shouting at eachother over all of this racket. FOR FOURTY-FIVE MINUTES. It got to the point of me shouting and Joe threatening to throw food at them and no sleep being had - which SLEEPING is what I should be doing at 3AM, especially when I'm sick. I'm in the process of writing a less-melodramatic but equally-as-scathing letter to DPW and registering a noise complaint because it's completely ridiculous, but 'til I send it out, you get to hear the bitching.

Also, this Michael Phelps nonsense is just that... nonsense. I'm 83% sure (just like Barney Stinson) that you can't charge eight people because a PHOTOGRAPH surfaced. And if it were steroids, I might moreso understand (performance-enhancing.... just ask A-Rod about it), but this is WEED we're talking about - WEED IS A DEPRESSANT DRUG. If anything, it will hinder his ability to swim. And c'mon, seriously, it's weed. I'm honestly more concerned about people who HAVEN'T tried weed...

That's all of my disjointed thoughts for the day.

it's gonna take me a lot to drag me awayyyyy from youuuu

Working days on end has its advantages (big paycheck, winnnn) but I'm getting pretty tuckered out. I'm ten days in at this point - granted I only work half shifts - but you can only see the same people so many times before you start going crazy. The smallest things have started bothering me: I ran out of disbursement tickets and had a mini-fit this morning because I had to walk back down the hall to get another pad; someone crept up on a nurse and made a really obnoxious noise and I nearly had a conniption...

All I want to do when I go home is curl up in bed and watch television. I say, everyday, that I'm going to clean my room - nope, doesn't happen. I can no longer find an empty spot on my desk because it's covered in water cups, makeup, plugs, receipts, necklaces... I don't even keep my computer in my room because there's not room on the desk for it. There are clothes literally everywhere - under my bed, the closet is a giant pit of doom, ON MY DESK, on the chair, hanging over door knobs. I want to do laundry but the basement is dark and dank and creepy and I have nowhere to put all said clean clothes... in fact, I have three giant Tupperware containers full, as well as a few garbage bags, that are just sitting in a heap (and I don't even want to talk about the bags in my car trunk... I think I'll just drop them at Salvo).

I need to stop being such a pack-rat.

But doing that involves energy. And I? Am tuckered out. Energyless.

I think part of it has to do with my (lack of) iron and protein intake. I should be taking vitamins daily, but I hate taking pills, even if I'm on-my-deathbed sick and if I don't have to take them, I won't. The shittiest thing about not eating meat is that I don't get these nutrients I need (though I could probably live off the fat of the land for a month and be just fine... I'd just end up with no boobs). Granted, I do eat beans for protein, but not as much as I should, and even iron-rich veggies aren't the same KIND of iron (and don't get absorbed the same way) as what I'd get in a nice, juicy steak.

Mmmmm, I take it back... the shittiest thing about not eating meat is not being able to have a steak (which I don't even like! What. The. Fuck.).

So since I'll be snowed in today, what with Mother Nature perioding all over us (oh yes, I went there), I think I'll take a stab at the room. Or at least clear off my desk.


Or maybe just make my bed... so I can get in it later.

CAR SAGA PART 2

OOOOH, THE CAR SAGA WAS DEFINITELY NOT OVER!

Yesterday (and the few days before that when it had been freezing outside) my car once again was having trouble starting. I got incredibly fed up and decided to shoot off an e-mail to Firestone's customer service. Keep in mind that I'm expecting a form/canned response back and I'm just having a grand old time being a passive-aggressive, self-depreciating twit. Read on:

I'm not a trusting person. I don't let anyone other than myself operate my vehicle and I've brought it to only two service locations in the past four years that I have owned it. But four days prior to Thanksgiving, it was a very cold day... and my engine wouldn't turn over. After being threatened with jumper cables and curse words, it reluctantly started. Fearing my car would shut down in rush hour, I brought it to the closest garage - your Erie Blvd. location (#002755).

The next day, a CSR called to tell me that my alternator needed to be replaced. Fair explanation - I know that if the alternator cannot bring power to the battery, the car will not start. The CSR also told me that my belt (no elaboration on which belt) was torn halfway through, causing my car to sound like a cricket, and I had a leak in my oil tank but "it's not crucial." I told him to fix the alternator and belt only and also to inspect my vehicle since my inspection had expired.

Later that afternoon, the CSR called back again - my vehicle couldn't pass inspection because my emergency brake "wouldn't pull" (and the back brakes would have to be replace) and my power steering would have to be removed and replaced because it was leaking. Because this is a "major hydraulic system" and brakes are "expensive," I was quoted $750. In less words, I told him to forget about it.

When I picked my vehicle up, I paid $615 for the repairs to my alternator and this elusive belt. My car started and sounded fine - it was a decent temperature outside. I promptly brought it to another garage that I trust to have the vehicle inspected.

The mechanic from the other garage called me back a day later and said my vehicle would pass inspection with two repairs - a new license plate light and a new fuse in my dashboard (my horn wouldn't work). I picked up my car and spoke directly with the mechanic: there was no problem with my power steering and no leak in my oil tank. My back brakes were a bit worn, but the e-brake pulled just fine. I paid $102 and drove off. Once again, my car started just fine; it was decent out.

(At this point, you can probably understand why I'm so leery of your operations. But wait... there's more!)

It was cold out yesterday - in the teens. And once again, my car wouldn't start! After a few minutes of shouting angry, the engine turned over. (Does this sound similar to my initial problem or what?) Not to mention that my car has since taken on this peculiar grating noise for the first few minutes it's running; in fact, it sounds quite similar to an aggravated cricket...

It's clear to me that I've been duped by your garage. The problems I had prior to alternator "repair" are still happening; I was told I had a plethora of problems inhibiting inspection that weren't even happening. Not surprisingly, I've been told by quite a few people not to trust a mainstream garage - I now understand why.

I take responsibility for not taking my car to another garage for a second opinion on the alternator "issue" - I believe I could have saved a lot of money and sanity by bringing my vehicle elsewhere. What I won't take responsibility for is being a young woman - and for what amounts to being taken advantage of by CSRs/ mechanics that think I'm too ignorant to know anything about cars. While I don't know why the alternator works, I know what it does. And while I can't go back in time and bring my car elsewhere, I cannot be duped in the future - and I can also tell my friends not to go anywhere near a Firestone.

Of course that's "not crucial" - taking away 30 customers isn't going to harm your gross revenue at all. But I refuse to be taken a fool by a corporation laden with dishonesty and shady practices. I don't doubt that you get many similar messages every day and that I'll get a canned response letter but maybe this will fall into the right hands and change will happen. (Oh wait... Firestone has plenty of spare change laying around after milking me for all I'm worth...)

YEAH.

I woke up this morning to a ringing phone - it was the customer service manager at the Erie Blvd location (I had put my phone number on the form because I figured I had nothing to lose except them selling it to telemarketers). Tim, the manager, says that he received a phone call from their district office this morning and asked him to contact me about the issues I'm having with their establishment. Tim apologized (for what? I'm not sure... he just said "I'm Sorry") and asked me to bring my car in today and we'd look over it together along with the mechanic that had worked on it. K, fine.

So I bring my car in. Tim drives it into the building and says "yup, your e-brake didn't pull. I just tried it." So I tell him to show me... and it pulls. Multiple times. Just fine. He swears "ON HIS LIFE" that it didn't pull the first time.

Then he puts my car on the tracks to lift it up. My power steering rack and pinion look a little schmucky, but nothing serious... and nothing that would cause an inspection NOT to pass. I ask why the mechanic didn't say anything about my horn not working, and he swore "ON HIS LIFE" that it beeped once. YEAH...

So Tim brings me inside. He was pretty ready for me to leave (making men uncomfortable by asking difficult questions for the win!) but I wasn't prepared to go yet... I wanted to talk about the alternator because my car is STILL having trouble with cold start. Supposedly the mechanic did a battery and electric test on my car that determined this alternator problem, so Tim shuffled through his paperwork to find the printout.... and he can't find it. He says that because it's in last month's paperwork, he would have to go dig through receipts in the back room. Fine, go for it!

THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Tim emerges... defeated. This elusive printout is nowhere to be found. He calls the district office, they tell him that if he can't find the receipt with PROOF that my alternator was faulty that he is REQUIRED to refund me.

So he refunds me... for the alternator, all the labor, the battery/electric test (the initial one and the one they did today to make sure the new alternator was fine) and the failed inspection... $382. The only thing I ended up paying for, in the end, was the new belt and labor for that.

WRITING LETTERS PAYS OFF, PEOPLE!

my nose is burny

I've been extremely lacking in updates but I haven't been very motivated to post anything, mainly because nothing is going on in my life worth noting...

...Except that I'm getting a tattoo today YAY! I stopped by Scarab yesterday evening (that drive was NOT fun) to book an appointment for my memorial piece for my grandpa. Turns out Rick has free time today (!!! I expected to wait a couple months... Eternal Images is always backed up with clients) so I'm going in at dinnertime. I'M SO EXCITED. It will be my first visible tattoo =D

In other body mod news, my septum self-stretched itself to 10g. It's a bit pinchy at the moment but not at all as bad as I expected it to be. I guess waiting 7 months in between really helped.

Anyway, after Scarab, I went to the Hoynes... by myself (because yes, I am a lush). Luke was bartending and he made me my usual, which was a nice change. I haven't seen him in a few weeks so I don't get my cocktail the way I like it - bartenders usually look at me like I'm a crazy woman when I ask for a Shirley Temple with vodka - and I usually ask for cherry vodka and sprite because it's kinda sorta similar. But Luke makes it extra special with cherries and grenadine =D I told him about my tattoos, we exchanged drunken stories and he made fun of me for being a 1-drink drunk.

I bought hair extensions for Halloween (in case you hadn't heard, I'm going as a pirate). They're 18 inches long... and come down to my ass. I drunkenly attached them to clips last night and I look like a ridiculous mermaid with them in. The plan is to rat them up and wildly curl them... I have a 3-point hat too that will cover up any tracks :P I'm so excited... I want to wear my costume everyday...

how many times did mccain say "crony" last night?

The presidential debate was last night and I don't even want to go into detail about how amazingly boring it was. The only thing I really want to say is... DID THEY HAVE TO PROP UP JOHN MCCAIN BY A STICK OR DOES HE HAVE PEGLEGS?

Now that that's out of the way... we got some promising news at work today. Our administrator left to go elsewhere and took a slew of directors with him - well, there was someone here interviewing for the adm position. And I know this person! I've worked with him and his crew in the past and loved it. My big boss ambushed me right as I walked in with this guy to introduce us and I was like "OMGHJETLKJ#$LKJ$#LK%J#$LJ% SEX PLZ" because I'm very, very inappropriate (he's REALLY good looking too ;)). I haven't seen him in over a year. It was even more awesome because I've got all the inside scoop on him and I got to tell my boss/big boss about him :P. INSIDER FTW.

I'm really excited to go out this weekend because I didn't do anything this past one (first Joe was sick, then I was). I think Jamie might come out with me too =D

Back to work...

on hoooooolidayyyy

I now realize that I really, really dislike everything about Florida except for Disney World. Disney is like Mars. You don't go there and realize you're in suckass hot-as-balls slow-paced Florida -- you're on another planet. A swift-moving, thrill-induced colorfuck of a world that can't be considered one of the 50 states of our country. In Disney, the economy doesn't matter. Bills aren't on your mind. You don't worry about who will win the World Series. All that matters is how long the wait time is for Mission: Space and if Test Track is broken or working given the hour of the day.

I really hated Sarasota.

Like, really really. It was washed out, slow-paced and boring. And motherfucking muggy. I mean, it's muggy in upstate NY - but that's only for 3 months. It's muggy 24/7 here. Which means I get all prettyfied, straighten my hair, put on makeup and nice clothes and I walk outside for an hour and come back looking like the living dead. AND I got bitched at by the order taker lady at Burger King (for apparently being a Yank...). OK: When I ask you what's on a burger, and you tell me it's a bun and a hamburger patty like a smartass, and I simply ask if there is MAYONAISE on it, I do NOT appreciate being told "well, you would have found out if you just let me speak." YES I WOULD HAVE FOUND OUT... 2 MINUTES LATER. BECAUSE YOU SPEAK ONE WORD PER SECOND APPARENTLY.

Did I mention I fucking hated Sarasota?

I hope my parents a) don't plan to move down there if/when my sister decides to go to school there and/or b) don't expect me to visit them if they do.

So I'm back in Syracuse, safe and sound. We flew through storms last night and the turbulance on our puddle-jumper plane was ridiculous. I personally thought it was funny - flying doesn't bother me and is much safer than driving, as it is - but some people (namely, my mother, who thought my hand was a stressball) did not.

Jamie and I were supposed to go see Boys Like Girls tonight but we decided eating cake and shooting the shit would be much more fun. And it was. We didn't get stuck in pits of screaming scene girls who only knew "Thunder," we didn't get our ears deafened by the terrible sound system in Goldstein and we had our cake and ate it too. No porn though... but plenty of reminiscing (oh, you wish you knew).

We did bring up a conversation about Halloween though - namely, WHAT THE FUCK SHOULD I BE! I know I'll be going to my piercer's party, which will (most likely) have a zombie theme (it did last year, anyway) and I thought I might bring back my beat-up prostitute costume with a living dead twist.

Or, you know, I can always go as a Sarasotan...

I WANT IT

The world did not end.

I am surprised.

Also, Luke says this is me:

i just fucking love you

http://www.syracuse.com/news/index.ssf/2008/09/3_days_only_gas_for_310_per_ga.html

For anyone link-weary, the article can be summed up with: the Cayugas in Seneca Falls will sell gas for $3.10 for three days. This is an article from syracuse.com. EMPHASIS ON SYRACUSE. Seneca Falls is 50 MILES away. PLEASE CHECK OUT MY ELEMENTARY MATH SKILLS:

I can fill my 15 gallon gas tank at a regular station in Syracuse for roughly $54 (15 gallons X $3.60/g) or I could fill it for $46.50 in Seneca Falls, which saves me $7.50. Might be a good deal if I didn't live 50 miles away! At 20mpg for 100 miles (there and back), I'm wasting 5 gallons of gas. Even IF I brought a canister to fill in Seneca Falls for those 5 extra gallons, that's an extra $15.50... which means I just wasted $8 driving way out of my way for "cheap gas."

Yes, this is why I passed 5th grade math.

I understand that people in Seneca Falls might read syracuse.com too. OH WAIT NO I DONT! They have their own news site (http://www.senecafallsonline.com/) and their own newspaper for the region (http://www.fltimes.com/). This does not belong in a Syracuse newspaper. If, by very little chance, I find myself out west on those three days, sure... I might buy the gas. But this article just screams "HEY SYRACUSANS PLZ TRAVEL 100 MILES OUT OF YOUR WAY FOR CHEAPER GAS BECAUSE YOU'RE DUMB ENOUGH TO NOT KNOW ELEMENTARY ADDITION AND MULTIPLICATION."

/rant.

Kitty Hoynes was FUCKING amazing last night - emphasis on the fucking (NO... not in that way... I mean... what?). Luke was working. I got drunk off of two Kitty Cocktails then decided I needed something different so I go "I WANT SOMETHING NEW" and apparently it sounded like I was British and Luke goes "you sound like the girl from Willie Wonka - the blueberry girl!" So he made me a raspberry mocha russian (incredibly strong) and I saw him mixing something up and being quite sneaky about it until he came over and poured two shots of this neon-blue liquid for Joe and I - awww he bought us shots AND he named them Veruca Salt after me =D (by the way, they totally taste like blueberry and raspberry koolaid!)

THEN Terry showed up... Terry is the father of one of the bartenders and he's always at KH. He calls Joe "Waldo" and he calls me "Sabrina." Well, he bought Joe and me free drink tokens! He then came up to me and said that he "FUCKING LOVES ME" and I'm the most beautiful girl he's ever met (his favorite part of me are my eyebrows... yes I'm totally serious too HAHAHA). It's even funnier because he's friends with the reverend here at work. I was texting Sarah the whole time and she was DYING.

I did talk to Luke about his business and either I was completely smashed and don't remember or he really didn't find it creepy that I knew hahaha. We talked about the USPS and other shipping methods (shut up... it was interesting because I ship things through USPS too!). He's very into his business and I think it's awesome that he's so passionate about it.

Today... I hurt. My head hurts from drinking and my body hurts from cleaning. Today's cleaning task: living room and dining room. FUCK.


BY THE WAY: I won't use my drink token. It's my souvenir :P

step on up and greet the mets

TOP 5 LOVES IN MY LIFE RIGHT NOW:

1) The Mets. RYAN CHURCH. Huge grand slam today. And Brian Schneider followed up with a home run. Oh how I love those boys.
2) LUKE. He named my shirley temple with vodka in it a "Kitty Cocktail" and makes them deliciously. Actually, add all the bartenders at KH to this...
3) MY iPhone. Srrrrrrrsly addicting.
4) Doogie Houser. Need I say any more?
5) VACATION TIME! I have 40h of vacation now and I got a raise. YAYYYY.

can.... UND HE DID.

I have literally nothing to write about, other than goddamn GI JOE Youtube videos. "AW HELL NO, WASSUP DOG?!" is the only thing I can think of and I can't stop laughing every time I hear that kid's voice in my head...

I may or may not have a drinking problem. I tried to slow down for awhile - didn't drink for a few weeks - but now I'm back in it to win it. I half blame myself (I am, after all, the one pouring it down my throat) and I half blame dear ol' Kitty Hoynes and their fabulous bartenders (specifically Luke). They now have Shock Top on tap and $5 gets you close to two beers in a giant glass and I swear to the great beyond that the ratio of vodka to ginger ale in my Drunken Shirley Temples is getting more and more skewed towards the "total firewater" side...

Oh well, give me moar and moar and moar. I need it after this week at work (the State is here for survey... TONS OF FUN).

Less than a week 'til Everclear. I've got to say that I'm shitting my pants over the idea of seeing Art Alexakis in person...

we got much further than i thought we'd get tonight

I've been watching tons of Intervention lately. The A&E channel is OnDemand and they've got a few episodes on there, plus reruns are on often. I literally can't get enough of the show - some of the episodes are ridiculous. Rarely do I feel any sort of sympathy for the addicted person in question, as most have gotten into the situation with an incredulous "WHATEVA I DO WAT I WANT" attitude. But the story of Derek really hit me hard... the poor guy has such bad depression that he can't see how great his life really was. It surprised me that no one had him committed to a psych ward - I know common misconception is that you CAN'T have someone over legal age committed without their consent, but if there is obvious reason to have them put in (like such bouts of depression, suicidal talk, etc.) they can be held for 72 hours against their will. Why didn't anyone do that for him?

I don't know, the episode just really hit me the wrong way. I love Intervention and the whole concept, but if someone is in too deep, they should get help right away. The guy is drinking non-stop, sitting in the same spot for the whole episode, talking about killing himself and, at one point, even cuts his knuckles - does the show's crew not understand that even a relatively moderate cut can bleed uncontrollably when the body's BAC level is as high as his was?

GAH.

Sarah is going to build my bunny a new fancy cage =) We went out Monday and bought some new bedding/litter and food for Wombat and a new bowl and litter pan that attaches to the cage so they don't get knocked over. Wombat ate dinner with us on the couch but then she peed - usually she doesn't pee except in one spot in her cage so I don't know what happened. I think she was just excited to see me because I'm never at the apartment (Joe's place has air-conditioning... end of story).

I can't get any thoughts straight today... people keep asking simple questions like "What's in my account?" and it takes me a good five seconds to comprehend what they're asking. I don't think this is good... maybe I should take a nap later.

The Mets game may have made me so tired. They seriously suck all the energy out of me sometimes. At least they won, despite Heilmann's shitty performance. Tatis totally gets MVP from me - he accounted for 4 out of 5 runs scored (he had two homers and drove in two other runners). And new beautiful boy Dan Murphy had a pretty awesome catch, as did A. Reyes. Love the Reyes's. So maybe the dramallama of the game led me to be so tired today... I don't know.

I do know ONE thing though: that I love Rihanna. Don't ask me when this happened. I used to be okay with her but didn't like to watch her perform (she has the same facial structure as my BFFE from high school [needless to say we had a falling out and aren't BFFEs anymore]) but now that she's chopped up her hair it's okay. OnDemand (LUFF) had a live performance of her and Maroon 5's song "If I Never See Your Face Again" and I thought I was gonna lose it in my panties...

Speaking of losing it in my panties, I made the Polish dinner last night. We had golobkis (which took GODDAMNFOREVER to cook, but I thought they were delicious), pierogies and kielbasa (from this meat place on the North side... the pierogies were great and the kielbasa SMELLED good but the texture was funny =/), rye bread (OMNOMNOM) and omg hot pickles the best pickles ever. I could eat a whole jar of those damn $5 pickles... I can't stop thinking about them.

Maybe I need an Intervention?

i'm a shaaarrrrrk, suck my diiiiick.

I demand moar lulz.

Sarah and I spent her lunch break looking at her photobucket full of WTFmacros - AKA we spent an hour laughing our butts off and trying not to shriek while answering the phone (oh, my B). It was much needed... Humpday sucked and I needed some quality laughing time. As soon as she gets out of work we're going SHOPPING and baby's gonna hopefully buy something of the non black-tee-shirt persuasion (how many of those do I own already?).

Saw the new Batman movie the other night. Honestly, I didn't "get" what all the hype was about - I never saw the first one, was never really into superheroes when I was young, blah blah blah. But HOT DAMN was it a good movie. A bit long - I have twitchy problems when I'm in theatre seating, clearly - but worth it. Never have I heard a movie theatre when the lights dimmed... it was ridiculous. And Heath Ledger, ILUBB, even when you're 6-feet under.

I've still yet to convince anyone to see Mamma Mia with me though...

Saw a good friend last night for the first time in a very long time (maybe a year?). I really had an excellent time. We had a pretty big blowout a few months ago (neither of us can take any butthurt apparently) but it's alllll good now. I met said friend's girlfriend too and REALLY liked her. We've got similar senses of humor and the evening went quite swimmingly. AND THE WINGS WERE SUPER TASTY (and the waitress/wait staff were BUTT, but that's how it goes).

I've been so tired lately. I don't know what's doing this to me, but all I know is IT NEEDS TO STOP. I'm stressed for no reason (srsly, I literally have nothing to stress over) and I don't stay up late and I STILL can't get up in the morning. And I've been having moar crazy, vivid dreams which makes me think I'm not sleeping very deeply. I come home from work and nap and I can't shake the tiredness.

...I think I need a vacation to somewhere sunny and beach-ful.

if i had a million dollars...

LOFUCKINGL.

What the hell was the lead singer of Barenaked Ladies doing 6 miles from my apartment?! (Well obv he was doing coke, but what BROUGHT him to CNY?)

I digress.

I had a really strange dream last night - rather, this morning. As I woke up I told Joe about it because it was ridiculous and I wanted to remember... and I do, pretty well actually! I was at All-State (music festival for really great high school musicians) and getting ready to perform when the director said that they changed this year's concert structure. He split us up into groups of four and said we had five minutes to write a poem and then we'd all present them in front of the audience. I remember there were two guys and one girl in my group and one of the guys was one of my friends from SUMB. I wrote the poem because everyone else was LE DUMB. I even remember the structure of the poem... 4 lines with ending words that rhyme, then two short lines that didn't. Each person had six lines to say all together. And at the end of the poem, we all said "LOL" out loud.

Then I woke up.

I have absolutely no idea what prompted this and when I get home I'm totally consulting my dream dictionary (yes, I am THAT lame) to see what this could mean...

(I think it means I'm totally fucked in the head, but I want to confirm that.)

humpday

I really like my job. I know I complain about it a lot, but all in all, it's great. I have my own office (it doesn't have windows, but pshhh, it's an office!), my name on the door, a computer, an unrestricted phone (so I can make calls out to anywhere unlike 75% of the other people in this building), and most of the time the residents are okay to deal with. Not to mention that I've got some great coworkers - Sarah (my housemate), Kim (whose cousin I took classes with), Mike (whose bunny I have!) and the ladies in the business office. Even my bosses are great - my boss's boss bought me a 7&7!

But there are days when I don't want to move. I don't want to come here, I don't want to sit through forced conversations with some of the wackier residents, I don't want to pay the bills and write checks to dysfunctional family members and walk up the street 3 times to do deposits. Today was one of those days.

I was HIGHLY debating calling in, and honestly, if Joe could have called in as well, I totally would have. I didn't get to sleep 'til about 5 this morning (we slept at my parents' house in Westmoreland and my bed is LE uncomfortable) and I could hear the birds outside my window and the dog was crying and it was so incredibly warm. Yesterday afternoon/evening/night was so wonderful and I didn't want it to end this morning... of course it had to though.

OH WAIT NO IT DIDN'T MY BOSS ISN'T EVEN HERE TODAY.

I'm totally staying til 1 again and leaving...

smack my bitch up.

A few points of interest:

1) I'm disappointed that the Mets called up Andy Phillips up and that he got the ONLY run on Monday night (his first as a Met) and that they sent him back down in favor of pitcher Tony Armas. Granted, Armas got the win last night, but Phillips was sooooo pretty. DEAR JERRY MANUEL (if you are reading): WE NEED MORE PRETTY PEOPLE ON THE TEAM. Perhaps Ryan Church has a twin? Or David Wright has a sexy cousin?

2) Soundgarden is on my awesome list right now. Can you say the first season of Doogie Houser MD for only $10?! Doogie was my favorite show when I was little - this was before I knew what MD was and I thought it was "Doogie Houser And Deed" (Deed being his best friend). Sheena and I used to play Wedding and one of us would be Doogie and the other Deed and our grandma would "marry" us. I guess it thusly stands to reason that Neil Patrick Harris is now gay...

3) I haven't slept in my own bed in over a week. It's a bit disconcerning actually - it's been two months since I've slept alone (save the weekend of my grandpa's funeral and my birthday weekend) and I surprisingly have not A) strangled Joe, B) woken up on the floor, or C) gotten fed up and slept on the couch halfway through the night.

4) Yesterday one of our residents was sent out to the hospital - an ambulance came to pick him up. I asked the ambulance man if it was the nap ambulance and wouldn't he kindly take me with him and have me committed to the mental ward? (He walked away... slowly).

5) I have to leave work early today to get my car fixed. I know the tires need to be rotated and/or aligned and I need something done with the brakes (hopefully the cheapest thing) and I'm pretty sure that gas leak on the return pipe hasn't gone and solved itself. Oh checking account, I apoligize in advance...




In other news... where is the summer going? It's already July...

oh humpday.

Joe's been asking weird questions lately. Not that that's anything new, but he's asking weird questions unprovoked. Like if I like penguins and do I like aquariums. Yes I like penguins, yes I will GO to an aquarium but fish scare me. I finally found out why - because he wants me to go to Boston with him in August. Apparently the company he works for is rich and brings employees down for a week and puts them in a fantastic hotel with room service and why can't I work for them instead of a nursing home?

Anyway, I'll be going with him. LONG TERM PLANS OH GOD. It's been two months that we've been "together" (albeit only a month and a half "officially"), which means it's been two months since I've broken up with Matt, which means my "two month beer goggles" are coming off now and I still haven't gotten cold feet. I'd like to say that it's a feat that I haven't gotten any pangs of insecurity about this relationship because usually I'm teeming with them at this point.

I digress.

I need to buy a dress. I don't even care what the dress looks like... I have no drothers. I just need a dress for Friday's Big Bad Voodoo Daddy show so I don't look like something the cat dragged in. Plus, Scotty Morris is my husband (and he knows and he called us the happy couple one time - OH I'M IN IT TO WIN IT) and I have to look like hot sex for him, ya? And maybe give him a little slap'n pickle? (Beerfest I<3u)>

I could also use something cute to wear tonight. We're having a work dinner thing - our accounts payable lady retired - and I also don't want to look like a schlub for that. More than likely I'll end up in jeans, a tee (NOT my Mets tee... or maybee......) and non-matching and/or broken flip flops. Whatever, I'm not paying for dinner, only for the three obligatory 7&7s I must have to make myself act like a normal human being and not sit at the end of the table listening to everyone talk about how I'm "the baby." I GET IT! I'M THE BABY! But Baby can drink you under the table.

And Baby's gonna do that right now... with a caramel iced latte. (I might be an alcoholic, but I don't drink at work - just on my lunch break).