"Hey Lois! Diarrhea."

NO MORE SPENDING, BRE!!!

This is getting out of control. And my horrible energy drink addiction is back in full force.

If it's not one thing, it's another. "Well, I've already spent $100. Why not spend another?"

Jesus. We are never going to get out of Arlington if I keep doing this.

I DON'T need any more shoes. I have over 40 pairs and I only wear like three of them. HEH. It's absolutely ridiculous.

I DON'T need any more dvds! I have almost everything I could ever want on dvd, PLUS every single volume of Family Guy. I DON'T NEED ANY MORE!!!

No more clothes. I can deal with the few I have for work. As long as I look decent and the clothes are clean, who cares if I only have a few outfits for work? I only work there part time anyway.

No more. DONE. The only thing standing between me and moving forward in my life is ME.

With that said, I really need to figure out a way to print out my divorce papers. Apparently our printer is broken. Eff my life.

I need to find a new/second job, as well. Eff.

It's so hard to form coherent thoughts while watching Family Guy. Fail.

Fuck my life.

We need to meet people who don't drink. Or, even better, people who aren't threatened by the fact that we don't drink. 'Cause I'm not exactly wanting to meet people who are fanatical about being sober, 'cause in my experience, they're kind of weird and overwhelming.

*sigh*

It's really fucking sad to think that we've been drinking for SO LONG that after we quit, we can't think of anything to do other than go to a bar.

Or go shopping and spend gratuitous amounts of money that we could be saving to move to Seattle :/

I dunno. What the hell do sober people do? Literally EVERYTHING innocent I can think of (skating, bowling, shows) eventually leads to someone wanting to shove booze in our faces. I know one day I'll be able to handle that kind of situation better, but right now I just don't think I can handle the pressure.

This is killing me. I spend hours racking my brain for things to go out and do. When I finally deduce that there's nothing to do (for lack of money or whatever), all I can think about is painting. And I don't have half the shit I need to start on that. It's really goddamn frustrating. I've got two gallons of white paint and a standard roller and tray, but that's it. I need an extending one for the ceiling, painting tape and a bunch of tarps would be good, heh. Plus I need to wash the shit out of the walls again.

So instead, I clear all the trash out of our room, pick everything up, put it away and get on the computer. Or read. Or sometimes write, which lately has only been making me crazy because my hand can't move fast enough to keep up with my brain. I'm so used to typing everything nowadays.

The job: frustrating. Let's just say I'm not exactly a fan of new bosses starting, them kissing your ass and trying to "get to know you" and act like your friend just so they can better control you. Maybe I'm crazy to think that way, but it's happened to me just like that before. Also, not a fan of bosses who sit and brag about their expensive lives. This lady won't shut up about her goddamn iphone (you know those people who refer to their phones by name instead of saying "my phone"? That's her.). Or how she drove "the other car" to work today. And she unloads stuff she just shouldn't on us about her daughter's relationship problems. Which IMMEDIATELY reminded me of Kris. I DON'T WANT ANOTHER KRIS. I don't want to feel like I have to pass out heaps of fucking sympathy to my co-workers. I JUST WANT TO GO TO WORK TO WORK! *I* don't fucking sit around at work and bitch about my life to everyone! Goddamn! The rest of us just kinda quote ridiculous movies to each other and joke around.

Yeah, I need a new job. And soon. I'm losing my mind there.

I need to go clean something.

Obligatory angsty blog!

So, really. You guys. Something that has REALLY been bothering me is the fact that people WILL NOT believe the fact that I've quit drinking. People still call me and tell me they want to get fucked up. People still say, "Hey, there's this party..." and even after I explain that I quit drinking because I turn into a tragic, mean fucking bitch, they won't let up. At all.

"Awww, come on! Are you sure? It's tasty! I'll buy you a drink!"

I'M. NOT. DRINKING. ANYMORE. I have quit drinking. This does not mean I've slowed down. This does not mean I'm taking a little breather. I have not had one drop of alcohol in over two months. I feel and look better than I've felt in over two years.

I'm not Bre, the drunken, tragic bitch anymore. If you can't accept that, move the fuck on.

Also. I do not appreciate the fact that people I once thought were my friends are now talking mad shit about me. And not really behind my back, either. They're making the mistake of saying it to the one person who tells me EVERYTHING, no matter how painful it might be to hear. So to all of you, thanks so much for being so fucking sweet to my face and then turning right around and calling me 'SUCH a crazy bitch'. Thanks so much. 'Cause I never uttered ONE fucking mean thing about ANY of you in the entire time I've known you all. And even worse, one of you, who I thought was a GREAT friend-- if I ever had a problem with you, I brought it straight to your face. But I guess you don't want to show me the same respect. Thanks.

Okay. Got that off my chest. Yay!

In happy news. Blew a shitload of money on shoes and clothes and movies and household supplies last weekend. I got the best. Pumps. EVAR. I really need to post a picture of them, 'cause somehow I can't find them online. Which is nuts.

Just got Turr's Mac all internetted in my room today after buying a new fancy router. So we're all networked and glorious now. Watching movies on one screen and interbutting on the other. It's retarded boss.

Work is okay. It's been super slow the last week, but whatever. I'm making money. And we finally got a new store manager. She seems nice so far.

Getting my new phone around the 25th. This means I'm changing my number. I'll let you all know when that happens.

Other than all that, starting next Friday, I'm saving up about half of my paychecks toward an apartment. We're moving kinda far. Heh. I'll leave it at that.

And finally, Terry and I are doing fucking fantastic. I am madly in love with a gorgeous moose, San Diego! I love you so much, baby.

Anyhow. Watching Semi-Pro and drinking tea, winding down for bed. Wewt! I have to work tomorrow and it's balls. Bah. Oh well. Need monies.

FUCK.

As the weeks go by, it seems more and more people keep trying to turn Terry and I against each other. This time it's the roommates.

Again, the LAST PEOPLE I would expect to try and fuck with us.

Yeah, we've got shit to deal with. Nothing's always perfect, but we're dealing with it. That doesn't mean you get to try and pry it out of someone, rile them up about it and DRIVE THEM TO DRINK AGAIN, and all the while sit and talk shit about how crazy you think I am and that you think I have fucking ulterior motives in my relationship. FUCK YOU. The thing is, our problems are OURS. They're NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS. Are you really so fucking bored with your lives that you have to try and stir up drama to keep entertained? This is fucking bullshit. We are NOT IN HIGH SCHOOL ANYMORE.

It's official. I have like five true fucking friends left. Apparently everyone else just keeps me around for some sick sort of entertainment. And what I'm just now realizing is that since I'm not getting wasted and making a spectacle out of MYSELF anymore, they want to go ahead and do it for me.

I. AM. DONE.

Who the fuck is gonna be next? Might as well get the fucking heartbreak out of the way NOW.

This place was supposed to be a safe haven, but now I can't even stand to be in the same room as you two anymore. FUCK.

The customer is always EFFED.

This is why I hate working at the outlet mall--

Yesterday this middle-aged asian guy comes in and tells me he 'forgot' to use his VIP coupon book when he made his purchase. Our deal in the coupon book is that you spend $100 pre-tax and get $25 off your purchase. I check his receipt to make sure he spent over $100 (he had spent $200) then totally forgot how much drama we see from this kind of shit and refer him to my supervisor, Michael ('cause I can't do returns), who gets exploded upon.

Here's the deal. VERY OFTEN, we get big spenders who come in and buy $100 or more worth of shit, then LATER they find out about the VIP book, go buy it in the food court, then come back and say they 'forgot' to use it. Our policy is that you present it AT THE TIME OF PURCHASE. But EVERYONE who gets denied this $25 off freaks the fuck out and we have to give it to them anyway because they threaten to turn us in to everyone under the sun. So we have to call the DM for approval, let them return all their shit and buy it back with the coupon.

This guy freaks out, returns his shit and then LEAVES even though Michael was gonna let him buy it all back with the discount. So Michael re-sensors everything and puts most of it back. Then two women I'm assuming are his wife and daughter come back in, ask him to find everything he just put away, tell him he's being ridiculous and that he's a RETARD, demand his name (so they can turn him in? To WHO?!?!), then flip out because they mis-counted the items and thought there were only 6 things being rung up when there were SEVEN ALL ALONG. Then they're satisfied and leave.

Here's a choice tidbit from their exchange of words:
"What's your name?"
"Michael *****"
*tries to pronounce it* "What?"
"Michael *****. Would you like me to write it down?"
"No, I have a BLACKBERRY." *waves the phone around*

OH. MY. GOD. My broke-ass BOYFRIEND AND EVERYONE I KNOW HAS A BLACKBERRY! You think that's some kind of status symbol? HAAAA!!!

People are fucking crazy. I really, REALLY loathe them. Like, people LITERALLY come into this mall to start shit with associates who only make minimum wage or just over that. Do you hate us because we're so much lower than you? Because we try to adhere to COMPANY POLICIES BECAUSE IT'S OUR GODDAMN JOB? These people think we're trying to fuck with them or something. They forget that we have little-to-no control over anything. There's a big fucking boss over our heads, just like you have. Idiots. The only difference is that we're doing all this for slave wages and WE don't get to go out and blow $200 in one store on fucking clothes.

EVERYONE REMEMBER: RETAIL IS FULL OF LIES AND MISLEADING ADVERTISING. IT'S CALLED 'MERCHANDISING'. Corporations just want your fucking money. Plain and simple. We don't see ANY of it.

Before that, however, I had this cute little mexican lady come in and buy a shitload of fragrance gift sets and tshirts for her boss and family. She made a mess of everything, but at least it was while we were slow as eff and she was sweet and brought us up over day. Heh.

Fuck my retail life, though. I really get sick of it exponentially as the years go by. I really don't want a job that makes me jaded and angry and unable to relax until like 30 minutes after I come home. BAH. How most of you put up with it with a smile on your face for YEARS, I have no idea. But kudos to all of you.

On a lighter note...

Now that I've got that off my chest, I should probably do a life update. Heh.

Still sober. It's been something like a month. I'm trying not to get too crazy about keeping track of my progress, 'cause every time I've obsessively tracked days/months/whathaveyou, I've fallen off the wagon shortly after. Who knows why. No AA, no nothing. Just me and Terry's support and love of each other, keeping reminders in the back of my head of exactly why I don't want to be drunk, finding fun stuff to do that doesn't involve drinking/bars and A LOT OF SEX. It helps a lot more than you'd think. And with that said, not only the quantity, but the quality of that area itself has improved leaps and bounds. Holy. Fucking. Hell. Fuck drunk sex, you guys.

We've been tanning lately. I think we've gone a grand total of four times in the medium-pressure beds and we're already dark as fuck. I've never in my life seen every inch of my skin this dark and it's nuts. My stomach, lower back, upper thighs and ass have been white (well, as white as a white-mexican gets, I guess, heh!) my whole life. It's a new experience, heh! I'm gonna go on Thursday to even out my sides and then I'll take some bikini pictures. Heh. 'Cause I'm just crazy-dark.

I guess the only things that are still bad right now are the smoking, energy drinks (drinking Wired from the dollar store until I get paid, which sucks 'cause they have high-fructose corn syrup in them. Monsters and Rockstars don't have that and I cut it out of my diet a LONG time ago.) and the tanning. Not gonna get crazy about that last one, though. Just trying to even my skin out 'cause I can. Gonna go two more times and then maintain it once a week or so.

Next month Terry and I are gonna start yoga. There's this studio in a barn in Island Crossing that does yoga, pilates and bellydancing. I'm thinking I'll start the yoga and then take bellydancing sometime in October. Should be fun.

There's also been talk of a road trip to Palm Desert sometime this fall. Terry has family down there he hasn't seen in a long time. I'm really hoping that pans out. And everyone knows I love a road trip. Gotta start saving some cash.

Work has been pretty lame. I'm thankful to have a job and everything, but I really get tired of the retail environment. Especially in that goddamn mall. I need something that's a little more challenging and... certain. Not to mention a higher wage. Heh. Everyone always tells me to slow down 'cause I work too goddamn hard, but I don't feel like I am at all. I hate not being busy and having to create things to do. And I sure as hell am not just gonna stand around. If I'm at work, there should be WORK to be done, ya know? I'm not gonna be one of those people who gets paid to stand behind a cashwrap all day. Besides, when you're not doing anything, your shift just fucking CRAWLS. I swear, if I'm not a supervisor within a couple months...

Other than all that, not much is going on. Just cleaning house and working and driving (and humping, heh!). My birthday is just over two weeks away. I wanna do something epic, as I always want to every year, but I don't think much is going on. Bumbershoot is on my brithday weekend, but the only good bands are playing Sunday and Monday. BAH. And it doesn't look that great anyhow. Just Yeah Yeah Yeahs on Sunday, Black Eyed Peas, Franz Ferdinand, Metric and Modest Mouse on Monday. Hmmmm.

I'll find something. Be it a show or tattoos or something.

Anyhow. I think I'm gonna go do some more laundry. Yusss.

Goodbye, doormat Bre.

So it's been an interesting and painful past couple weeks. My relationship with Terry has been tested with sobriety, jealousy, and ultimately betrayal by a girl I thought was an extremely good friend. Turns out she's just as bad, if not WORSE than all the other people I've kicked to to curb over the years. I saw all the signs, heard everything everyone was saying about her for the last 4 years, but thought that somehow *I* would be different. That she actually cared about me. Nope. Just another goddamn doormat to wipe her filthy stilettos on.

I'm really going to have to start being more careful. All these 'friendships' have been exactly the same. I'll admit, I'm very, very attracted to super-outspoken, outgoing, ambitious and slightly obnoxious people because I wish *I* could be more like that. But they all tend to covet everything I have and fuck me over in the end. That's done with. And I'm really going to stop being such a passive fuck. ESPECIALLY if someone flirts with/says inappropriate things to my man. I used to think there was no logical reason for me to flip out on people for this, but I guess there really is. He's MINE. He's with ME. NOT YOU. I think it's really sad that there are some people out there who have to be reminded of this. Just because you can't have him doesn't mean you can get a little taste by using sexual innuendo and jumping all over him. Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I can't see that you're throwing yourself at MY MAN with thoughts in your head of fucking the shit out of him with no fucking regard to my goddamn feelings? How the fuck would YOU feel if you saw the same thing happening in front of you? Wait, you already KNOW how that feels.

We've been tested and we've SURVIVED. And NO ONE is going to fuck this up for us. NO ONE.

Us: WIN.

You: FAIL. For coveting something that's not yours and almost destroying it EXACTLY the way the same thing was destroyed for you.

Goodbye.

Incidental Mac user...?

Is this damn thing gonna let me blog?

...YAY! IT IS!!! I can't figure out why the cursor moves like death in the Myspace and Twitter update fields, but not on Facebook and not while I'm blogging here. GAH. I actually had to install a Firefox add-on to post to Twitter 'cause it was just waaaayyyy too slow otherwise and I can't run Twitter apps because of the lack of Adobe AIR.

Backstory. John's Dell was about to explode. Heh. It kept crashing every couple of minutes and it was annoying as fuck. Terry got fed up and moved his Mac (his recording studio, really) from John and Moe's walk-in closet to the dining room and set it all up.

Now. Terry has ProTools 6.4 LE on it. That's the whole reason he even has the computer. He doesn't want to upgrade, because he'll probably have to pay hundreds of dollars. ProTools 6.4 doesn't work on a Mac OS higher than 10.3.9, which is what we're running. The problem here is that Safari was running at 56k speeds so I had to put Firefox on the damn thing. BUT I HAD TO FIND FIREFOX 2.0 'CAUSE IT WON'T RUN 3.5! We also can't run Adobe AIR or anything necessary like that. Kinda lame, but at least we're not crashing all the time.

If only we could upgrade ProTools... BAH.

Still trying to get the hang of this damn computer. I wanna free up a shitload of space (we're down to 10GB on the HD), but we're not sure what's safe to delete and whatnot 'cause there was a period where a bunch of the audio data was saving to the hard drive instead of the external drives. BAH.

Oh, clusterfuck.

Work today. CLOSING. Goddamnit. I'm closing today through Wednesday. Barely gonna see my baby 'til Thursday 'cause I'm gonna be getting home at 10 and he goes to bed at 11-ish. Eff. But then I have Thursday off and open on Friday (PAYDAY!!!!)

I should go do some laundry and take a shower. Well, after Moe gets up 'cause she works earlier than I do.

I used to think life's a bitter pill, but it's a grand ol' time...

I really hope Firefox doesn't crash while I'm writing. John's computer is wonky and shit crashes on it all the time. BAH.

I just got through reading blogs from the most tragic period of my life to date (Dec. 2008-February 2009). Heh. How fucking enlightening. I think I needed to look back and remember exactly how I was feeling and all the bullshit that came along with all that to really realize why I don't want to drink anymore.

You guys. I was seriously fucked up. Everyone looks at me and says, "Oh, look at Bre. She's such a fucking drunk. It's hilarious." It's not. I think I was seriously trying to kill myself with booze for not only that period, but for the past year or so. And I HATE that people are always going to look at me that way.

"Oh, she's just drunk. Blah blah blah."

"Bre's hungover again. Big surprise."

And even worse, I continually run into people I can't remember or find names in my phone's address book that I don't recall at all. They remember the fuck out of me, though. It's like this alternate personality comes out when I'm hammered. I'm outgoing. I talk to everyone. I'm loud and witty and obnoxious.

Or, everyone sees me that way because they're just as drunk as I was. Really, I'm sure I'm a stumbling idiot. I don't want to be known that way. And I REALLY don't want to keep getting wasted and pushing everyone I love away, Which I think might have happened one night in Stanwood a couple weeks ago. I don't remember that night really at all and I'm terrified of what I might have said. All I remember are snippets of a fucking PATHETIC arguement about the color of a friend's car.

I don't want to be that way anymore. So far, I'm doing good. It's been almost two weeks since my last drink and I've been feeling so fucking amazing. I'm eating very well; I LOOK about ten times better; I'm doing an amazing job at work (my DM apparently said I'm 'the best worker in the store'); I'm trying to make time for my friends, which is still difficult, but at least I'm REALLY putting forth an effort now; Terry and I have been fucking crazy about each other (even more than when we FIRST started dating, if that's even possible) and haven't been bottling up our issues and blowing up on each other; I'm buying things I want/renovating my car INSTEAD of buying cases of beer, half-gallons of booze and cocktails; AND I don't feel like fucking SHIT every day when I wake up. Each day has felt like it's full of possibilities instead of full of dreariness and me just existing until I can have my next drink and make an ass out of myself.

I'm tired of hurting everyone around me and I'm tired of hurting MYSELF. I'm not going to be that person anymore. I have people in my life who love me for who I actually am and I don't want to throw that away. I have the most wonderful man in my life and the only reason we haven't worked out before is because we were both wasted 24/7. That's not the case anymore. There is something completely amazing and real between us and I can't let that go just for a stupid fucking drink that's just going to make me into a babbling idiot for an hour or two. I'm doing this for us, and I'm doing this for ME. No fucking buzz feels as good as being truly, madly in love does. I wish I could have realized that much sooner.

For those of you who are still drinking, I just want to add that I'm not going to judge you for your decisions. I'M just not going to drink anymore. I'm not going to preach at you or be a 'drag'. I'm just trying to learn how to dance and sing and LIVE without being in a haze all the time. You guys might be able to have one drink and then stop. I CAN'T. I don't know why, and I'm trying to find out. I'm still Bre, just without the stumbling and arguing about nonsense and crying for no reason. Sounds much more pleasant to me, heh!

My lives this week. Heh.

Good things.

Stopped drinking. Lost 6lbs. due to eating better and NOT starving myself. Hours went up from 18 to 30 for the week. Payday is on Friday (FULL CHECK!). Haircut (well, reshaping of layers and bangs, really), shopping and half-sleeve outline this weekend. DEPECHE MODE ON MONDAY. Food benefits replenished at midnight. YAYFRUIT. Moving back into the apartment when I can find the time. Things are great with the Turr.

Bad things.

Joe got fired yesterday. Penniless until Friday (literally. Already raided most of the change in the house for$4worth of gas yesterday). $1.96 in checking. Dr. Tran is on empty. Was 20 minutes late to work yesterday 'cause I thought my shift started at 4:30. It was at 4. DM was there and will be there until Friday. He didn't care too much, though. Luckily.

I'm not affected by all this as I usually would be, though. Other than being really stressed for the first 30 minutes of work yesterday and being a tiny bit cranky when I got to the apartment last night, I'm okay. Usually I'd be freaking the fuck out at this point.

At least I have smokes. Heh. 'Cause if I didn't, I'd be hurling myself off a cliff by now.

Today I'm working 12-6. I was supposed to have the day off to go help Chev clean/pack up her apartment, but oh well. I really need these hours they're throwing at me. Badly. Plus, I missed mom completely yesterday 'cause I closed at work, so I didn't get to bum any gas money from her. And I'm still really not sure how I'm gonna manage to throw enough change together to get my ass home from work tonight. I hate scraping by. It really sucks. Turr usually helps me out a ton with gas, but he's more broke than I am right now because of rent and having to borrow money from people to pay rent. Gah. He was jipped BAD on his last check. Like, over $100. The woman in payroll at his work is a fucking RETARD. Luckily he's getting that money he was raped for on this Friday's check AND he worked a shitload of tens last week. So yay. We'll be MORE than okay on Friday.

I just want it to be Friday, already. I just wanna effing relax and do a little shopping. Gah.

I'll never let you go, if you promise not to fade away...

Well. Going off what I said in one of my blogs last week, I must be insane.

But it's my decision. Not yours. I truly feel that we belong together. And if it took us a week of separation to figure that out, so be it.

If you wanna yell at me, talk shit behind my back, go for it. You have no idea what it's like to live in my skin. I have never felt this strongly about another human being before in my life. He has obvious flaws. I have them. WE ALL HAVE THEM. We keep coming back to each other for a reason, right?

I am in love with this man.

With all that being said, I'm not moving back in with him. So don't label me a total fucking retard yet. Heh.

I fucking love you, Terry.

GLORIOUS RENOVATIONS!

I'M GONNA PAINT MY ROOOOOOM!!! YEAAAHHHHH!!!

Just painting it all (including the ceiling) white and then accenting the wall with the closet turquoise (see the colorhere), but still. I'm excited as hell. THAT ROOM IS SO GODDAMN UGLY. All the fucking walls are filthy and bleaching/windexing does NOTHING. And the wall I'm painting blue has the ugliest, most disgusting wallpaper I have EVER seen. If you've been here, you know. 'Cause it's in the hallway, as well. UGH. It's baby blue, peach and grey SHELLS. Well, at least it used to be those colors before we moved in and started smoking up a storm, heh. Now it's just kinda... brown. Gross. Then, eventually, I have to figure out a quick yet safe fix for the HOLE IN MY FLOOR and find a fancy rug to cover it. ZEBRA PRINT.

I swear, the ex-wife of the guy who used to live here was an absolute whackjob. The kitchen was/still halfway is baby blue, pink and DARK MAUVE. The front bathroom was PINK. Then there's that godawful shell wallpaper. GROSS.

So yeah. I guess if I'm gonna be stuck here for a while, I can at least make my room much fancier.

Done.

I guess the below blog doesn't apply anymore. Go fig.

Funny how things like this used to hurt so badly for SO LONG a few years ago. I'm guessing that either I've grown up or I've just reached the end of my rope in this particular situation that I keep letting happen over and over again. Or both.

Know what? If you can't figure your shit out, see ya. Your fucking loss. But if you fucking drunk dial me one more time to flip-flop between what a disgusting bitch you think I am and then apologize for your own stupidity, I swear to GOD I'm going to change my number and fucking punch you in the mouth. I'm done with your inconsistent behavior. It's so fucking detrimental to not only me, but YOU as well. So stop.

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

Doom and I went to the plasma center today. They took him in immediately because it was his second donation. I stood in the waiting room for an hour and a half and then Doom came out and realized I hadn't been handed any paperwork to fill out when we got there. We just left, 'cause even if I had filled it all out right then, I would've waited in there for another two hours. And eff that, I said.

My car ate $8 (half a tank of gas) driving from the Arlington 7-11 to Casino Road in Everett, then back to 7-11 in Smokey Point. FUCK. I NEED TO GET AN OIL CHANGE TOMORROW! That's the first thing I'm doing after I cash my paycheck. I can't take this anymore. My car is bleeding my (and mom's) wallet dry right now. USUALLY, I can fill my tank and drive to Seattle and back like 3-4 times. Now I can just do it once. My poor baby. I'm surprised it hasn't exploded yet :/ But seriously. With proper maintenance, Geos fucking last forever. Everybody should have one. Heh. I'm HORRIBLE to mine and it's still lasted me almost two years without nickel and dime-ing me to death (with the exception of the gas situation right now...). GEOS FTW.

Um. I wanna do something tonight. Someone save me from this celltower-less valley of DEATH.

Someone just fucking kill me.

I can't fucking do this.

If I'm at work and preoccupied, I'm basically fine. The second I get off work I keep having to stop myself from driving into town to the apartment. Or off a cliff. I get home and go into my room and cry like someone just fucking died. When I see you, I just want to kiss you and hug you and tell you I love you, but I CAN'T. My hair-pulling has accelerated at an alarming rate. About 60% of the time, I just want to fucking die.

I cannot do this. I just want to make my brain STOP. I need cruise control for my head. I need more booze. I need to black this all out. I just don't know how the fuck to deal with it.

I hate everyone who is happy with someone right now. And even more than that, I hate everyone who has worse problems than we ever could have conceived and manages to stick together, because they LOVE EACH OTHER. Why not us? Why do we keep having to fucking fail? WHY DO I ALWAYS FUCKING FAIL?

WHY COULDN'T YOU JUST TELL ME YOU NEEDED TIME TO YOURSELF? WHY THE FUCK DID YOU LET THIS SPIRAL OUT OF CONTROL LIKE THIS?! WHY THE FUCK DO YOU ALWAYS GIVE UP?!?!

I'm going to sleep. I can't fucking take my brain anymore.

FUCK YOU.

So. That went well.

*pfffttt*

How can someone say such hurtful things to someone and expect to still be their friend? Seriously? WHERE IS YOUR LOGIC, SIR?

"You know what? I don't even really like you anymore. What am I doing?"

"You're fucking disgusting."

"You look really pretty tonight. Wanna come play pool? Fine, FUCK YOU, get your shit the fuck out of my house."

I figure I'm gonna work my ass off this week. Pick up some extra shifts, hopefully. Then on Friday I'm gonna start overhauling my car. Oil change and new brakes to start. Next paycheck I'm gonna fix my CV joint again. I don't get how that fucker keeps going out so fast.

Tomorrow after work I'm ridding my car of all traces of you. It fucking REEKS of fermented booze in there because shit kept getting spilled. So I have to vacuum the shit out of it and steam clean the carpet. I'm so fucking sick of smelling booze every time I get into my car, just because YOU couldn't fucking wait to get somewhere to start/continue drinking. I still can't believe how many empty beer cans were in my trunk after I unloaded all my shit out of it today.

Now that I think about it, there really were a shit-ton of things wrong in our relationship. I just wish I could let the fuck go of memories still fresh in my mind from TWO WEEKS AGO when you still loved me. I don't fucking get you. At all. Everything's TerryTerryTerry and there's no fucking room for anyone else.

I'm such a fucking masochist. I hate it.

You know what, though? I actually get to start hanging out with MY friends now (the ones I didn't live with, that is). I haven't seen Chivahn since our shoot in December. I've only seen Mike a handful of times since around January and only for like 5 minutes to an hour each time. And I haven't seen Chelsey since October. All because I was so goddamn busy driving your ass around whenever you had to/felt like going somewhere. I've been hanging out with Alli, but that was just because she lives right down the street from the apartment. If she had lived any farther than that, I wouldn't have been able to see her at all.

So you know what? FUCK YOU. I'll be just fine.

Fuck my fucking life.

Funny how after I 'fix' everything that's wrong, my world has to start falling apart because my efforts aren't good enough.

Anyhow. Work schedule this week:

Monday: 9-3:30
Tuesday: 9-4:30
Wednesday: 9-4:30

And then any extra hours Joseph throws my way. I know he will. And PAYDAY ON FRIDAY. It's only gonna be like $100, but it's still money that I didn't have in the first place. Heh.

At mom's for the foreseeable future. I'm not gonna prod at the situation 'cause I know that'll probably just make it worse. I've got all my smokes and work clothes and shoes and shit, so I'll be okay for the week. We'll see if I actually have to go and grab the rest of my shit eventually, I guess.

Well. Gonna go take a shower and get ready for Gramma's birthday party.

EDIT:Yep. It's over. Got all my shit, will get my mattress back on one of my days off. Goodbye, Terry. You're a real piece of fucking work.

I AM JOB!

YAYBACKTOWORK! And all the people who made the place miserable are gone. YESSSS!!!

So I filled out all my paperwork today, got my documents faxed in and went to Everett and took my pee test already. YAAAYYYY. Hopefully I'll be able to start on Thursday. I'm REAAAAALLLY hoping so 'cause paychecks are next week. I need a haircut. And I desperately need to start saving for my new phone (I've been DYING for an LG Xenon for about 3 months now). And, of course, I've gotta set money aside for rent and whatnot.

This is gonna be rad. All the kick-ass people are still there AND minimum wage went up since I've been gone. So that's a 30 cent raise right there.

GLEEEEE. I'm so excited to get off my ass and lose all the weight I've gained from sitting around every day.

FML

UGHHHHHHH.

Yesterday was fun. HEH. I wake up around noon ('cause we got home from the show around 3am that morning) and Terry's STILL awake with Kevin, wasted as fuck. So in his drunken state, he decides to lay into me about everything he can possibly think of. Brandon needs to go home and for some reason, it's all my fault he's been here. I'm a horrible person for getting so drunk the night before and having to have Brandon drive. I have no job. I'm "smoking all his cigarettes". There are 6 packs missing from the carton he bought on Friday. Of course, he's so drunk he doesn't take into consideration that he has a pack on him and later I found a full pack on the floor in front of the tv. So all that meant I couldn't smoke any of his cigarettes anymore. Luckily mom and Terry loaded Brandon and I up with about $60 in change, but after splitting that in half, buying toilet paper, gas and THEN cigarettes for myself, I have $3 left and I had to cancel my shoot in Seattle today because I only have 1/8 of a tank of gas. I already tried to back out of it once because fucking Sarah was supposed to be there, but I guess she scheduled another time with the guy because I was supposed to be there. So all in all, I look extremely unprofessional and flaky to this guy now.

But THAT'S NOT ALL. Yesterday I took Brandon home, hung out with mom and watched a movie, went back home. I walk in the door and Terry's passed out on the couch cuddling with Jordan.

UM. HI. I know I'm an extremely jealous person. But in this case, I trust Jordan completely and I already tried to let this go. It's just the fact that I had to leave the house in a fight and then come home to that. I'm not upset with her, I'm upset with HIM. Because I've heard stories about Terry getting wasted until he can barely fucking speak anymore and hitting on girls he wouldn't normally touch. Jordan should be one of those girls, considering she's 17 years old. And hello! YOU'VE GOT A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND.

I don't fucking know. I know I'm a pile of shit because I still haven't found a job yet. He puts so much angst into this whole situation, but at the same time, if I get a job, it's probably not gonna be some part-time, morning or mid-shift thing. The hours are going to be incredibly erratic. That means we're not going to see each other EVER and I damn well won't be able to take him anywhere. Not to work and back, not to band practice three times a week, and I'm most likely gonna miss all his shows. This is going to piss him off to no fucking end. He had a HUGE problem with it when I was working at Guess. He's just too fucking deluded to realize that this is going to happen again.

"Things aren't going Terry's way." Well fuck you! They AREN'T going to, because you only make $10 an hour now, pay hundreds of dollars a month to treatment and fines, pay rent AND LIVE WITH ROOMMATES. God forbid sometimes one of them is gonna have a random friend over who sleeps on the couch. And the fact that I keep the kitchen in immaculate condition and do all his laundry and drive him and his friends EVERYWHERE isn't enough. And honestly, if things were going "Terry's way", he'd have a fucking liver failure.

Know what? Things don't ever go "Bre's way". EVER. Not while I'm in Terryland. You think I fucking like picking up beer cans you and your friends leave sitting around all fucking day? I'm barely even able to go see my fucking family because I'm so low on gas all the time from having to drive you everywhere! I haven't even seen MY FRIENDS in MONTHS.

Fuck it. I'm going to the outlet mall today. I'm getting myself a job. Fuck him if he can't deal with the repercussions because he's so fucking accustomed to me doing shit for him 24/7.

COFFEE.

Shoot next month. It's been a long-ass time. This one is a group shoot focusing on tattoos, and I REALLY want to have my moustache touched up this weekend 'cause it's my favorite. It really looks like poop :/ I'ma have to message Jerm and see what he's up to on Friday, since Terry's got the day off and so we can both get them fixed.

I need to get a part-time jobby 'cause I'm really sick of always panicking about how low we are on gas and smokes. Guh. I hate it. The only reason we're struggling is because of Terry's fines and treatment fees, and those are gonna be paid off soon, but still. It'd be nice to have some extra cash.

I still have to unload all my effing shoes out of my car today. Been putting that off for WAY too long. I cleared out some room in our closet, so I have no excuses now.

Really. After I put almost every pair of shoes/boots I own in one corner of mom's house during the move, I was pretty disgusted with myself. And that didn't even include all the shoes that are still in my storage unit. I'ma have to line them all up and take a picture, heh!

Anyhow. Pee. And more coffee.

Blarg.

Life is good. Except I'm getting really sick of driving. I never thought this would happen. It used to be one of my favorite pastimes. Every day I take Terry to work in Smokey Point at 6:30 and pick him up at 3:30. And then 2-3 times a week I take him to practice in Lake Stevens, go somewhere else for 3-4 hours, then pick him up and go back home.

I've developed this serious loathing for highway 9 'cause I'm on it 4-8 times a DAY.

So my gas mileage has suffered pretty horribly because of the constant driving. I was at like 35mpg and it went down a bunch. A year ago I used to spend $100 or less on gas in a two-week period, including random trips to Seattle or Bellevue every now and then. I shudder to think how much I'm spending now. I need an oil change and a new air filter immediately. I also think it's time for new brakes and it's WAAAYYYY past time for my CV axle to be replaced. AGAIN.

Other than that, the living situation is SO AWESOME. We're all super fucking clean and organized and it goes without saying that we get along more than fine. It's just fucking amazing.

And I kinda hated the idea, but I went to DSHS and got an EBT card. They gave me money for the remainder of June and all of July, so my first issuance ended up being $293. Then it's $200 a month through November. That helps us out SO MUCH, considering a ton of Terry's money is still going toward fines and treatment. He's pretty close to being all paid up, though.

Alli and I have been hanging out lately. She's right down the road over by Safeway now. It's so badass. Yesterday she kidnapped me out of the blue and we went to Everett and Clearview 'cause she was hunting for bikini espresso stands to apply at. HEH! Man, can those half-naked girls TALK, or what?

Um. Today I need to go to Safeway to buy a clove of garlic, an onion, and french bread. And then that's pretty much it. Picking Terry up from work at 3:30 and then coming back home so he can cook another huge dinner. WEEE!!!

Oh. And there's another AFN show on Saturday at Tracey's Place on Hewitt. 21+, and I think this one might also be free. I may or may not be selling merch, but I'm definitely gonna be harassing people to get on the email list. Heh.

Aaannnnddd yeah. Pee time.

CANHASAPARTMENT?!?!

Desire for sleep: 0
Caffeine: 1

WIN. Or lose. Whatever.

The show on Saturday was pretty great. To be honest, I wasn't all that impressed with AFN's demo that Terry's been practicing to, but it turns out it's just not a very good demo. Heh. Their live show/sound is really, really good. And as it turns out, Flights has a SUPERB sound system considering how small the place is. So that was groovy. No one we knew showed up except Christine, and I hadn't seen her ass in a while. So that was cool.

Everybody. Go to the next show. It's at Tracey's over by where Jimmy Z's used to be on Hewitt. June 27th. That one's 21+, but the one after that is all ages. THAT one will be at The Rusty Cage in Mount Vernon on July 11th. SO GOOO.

On Sunday Terry and I had to head out to his parents' house to grab all the rest of his shit. 'Cause we're moving. YAY. Already went and got my mattress and boxspring out of Grampa's hangar today and moved that, Terry's tv, dvd player and movies in. Tomorrow I'll be moving the majority of our clothes, toiletries, bedding and all my dvds and shit. And then we can sleep there tomorrow night. WE ACTUALLY GET TO SLEEP NEXT TO/WITH EACH OTHER FOR A WHOLE NIGHT. HOLY FUCKING BALLSDICK. Heh.

ICANHASSEXWIFFBOYFRAANNN?!?! SOLD!

I think I'm gonna go start to round up some more shit and then think about going to sleep. Heh.

EFF.

My good mood (that has lasted probably about 3-4 days) went to complete and utter shit for no goddamn reason this afternoon. This keeps fucking happening almost every week. I'm REALLY GODDAMN TIRED OF IT. I'll be super happy and hyper one minute, then bawling and almost suicidal the next.

I haven't even quit smoking yet. Gramma loaded me up with 60 nicotine patches and I'm thinking I'm gonna quit within the next two weeks.

Back on subject. I don't know what the fuck to do. I haven't had mood swings this bad in a couple years. I'm almost thinking its time to look into the antidepressant arena again. I've been down that road and it was awful, but I was also wayyyy too young to be on the shit that I was on. So I dunno. I guess Wellbutrin wasn't so bad. That also made me quit smoking.

We'll see. A couple more weeks of this shit and I am DONE.

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!

Malibu angst/Flights Pub on Sat.

HOW IS IT THAT SHORT-ASS PEOPLE DRIVE MALIBUS?!?! Especially you, Miss Averi. YOU'RE 5'1!!! HOW THE EFF?!?!

I'm 5'4. And even when I move the seat ALL THE WAY TO THE FRONT, I have to hit the pedals with my TOES. I don't get it! Probably has to do with the fact that I'm all torso and no legs. Heh.

Yeah. I really hate my step-dad's car and I have NO CLUE how I passed my drive test in it. I had to borrow that fucking boat today to haul Terry's cab to Lake Stevens. Luckily, he got to leave the cab and the head at the rehearsal space and I'm hoping that one of the other guys will lug it around for us, 'cause I can get Terry to shows and practice, but I can't fit that damn thing in my car. It's effing MONSTROUS.

Meh. This weekend I'm hoping I can get Terry to buy me a shitload of cheap t-shirts so I can go ballistic on them with scissors. Then I'm gonna look into local fleamarkets and drag Gramma's ass with me to share a booth 'cause she really needs to start selling her chainmaille stuff. It's awesome.

Speaking of this weekend. Terry is playing a show Saturday at Flights Pub on Evergreen Way with his new band (http://myspace.com/arisenfromnothing). So if you're over 21, you should probably go, 'cause apparently it's freeeee. I'll be there, and I'll probably be drunk as hell.

THERE'S my Chippy!!!

Oh. And in related news. Went over to Gramma and Grampa's while Terry was at practice and printed up these fancy bitches:



HEEEEEEEEEE. I'm such a goddamn Tim and Eric ho. Really.

A REAL weekend. THANK GOD.

Saturday was fucking incredible. The first day Terry and I REALLY got to hang out with each other and go shopping and have a pitcher of beer to ourselves. Heh. First I had to take him to a band audition in Lake Stevens. I sat around for an hour and he effing nailed it. So that's another band to add to the list of bands he's currently in. The count is seriously up to like three. After that we headed to Half Price Books in South Everett and I sold 46 fucking books for $3. RIDICULOUS. I would have been better off selling them on half.com or something. Oh well. I really just needed to get rid of them. Picked up AFI's "Answer That and Stay Fashionable" and a DAISY CHAINSAW single. HOLY. SHIT. Then I grabbed a copy of Slaughterhouse Five 'cause I've never read it. Really. From there we went to Target so Terry could pick up a new belt and some socks, then to Sally's for hair dye, then to Azteca where we shared a pitcher of Bud Light and some nachos. Yummeh. Picked up some booze from the liquor store, went to John's and had margaritas. THEN we went back to Lake Stevens to hang out with Kevin and Kandi. I dig her. She's neat. Sucked down a shitload of tequila with all them and then headed home around 10-ish.

We hadn't had a day like that in SO long. Where we could drive around and sit and just enjoy each other's company and be retarded. Not since I got my tax return last February. We so needed it.

Today I dyed and cut my bangs and Terry's beard, went into town and bought some propane and beer, then came back and barbequed. Mmmmm. Then all the boys magically appeared. Heh. They can effing smell food-related gatherings from miles away, I swear.

I'm drinking a Rockstar, but it doesn't seem to be working at all. Ugh. I think it might be sleepy time.

Bleh.

Today was BALLS.

Picked Terry up at 3:30, came home, sat on the couch for a bit and started feeling super lethargic and kind of sick. Passed out in my room for two hours or so. Terry thinks I'm having an allergic reaction to all the fiberglass from the insulation that's currently covering every goddamn surface in the living room. UGH. I felt so effing gnarly. So I took a Benadryl and a cold shower to get any fiberglass dust off me. It worked wonders.

Guh. Tomorrow I have to drop Terry in Lake Stevens at 11am for an audition and then possibly head to Half Price Books in Everett. I discovered a shitload of old Babysitter's Club books in perfect condition while I was cleaning out my room. After checking Ebay, I'm sure I can get at least $20 for all of them. So that'll be nice. I need to go round all those up and count them. I was such a whore for that shit when I was like 10. Heh. I'm sure I have somewhere around 50 books.

I wanna go splurge on fabric and the like. I need to get sewing again.

Tattoofs. MEOW.

I needs me some tattoo action. Terry and I have to go get our moustaches touched up 'cause they faded REALLY bad where the skin on our fingers is thicker, but that totally won't be enough. The glorious sting on that one only lasts about 5 minutes. Heh.

I wanna finish my stomach, fix the one behind my ear and cover up the huge one on my leg that everyone keeps fucking questioning me about. Biggest regret EVAR. Dunno what to cover it with, though. Possibly a floral or avian motif. Then I need to start on my half sleeve, which I'm really excited about. I picked it out about five months ago and still feel as strongly about it now as I did back then. No more picking shit out on a whim. No sir. Learned my lesson with the whole 'Zophar has manboobs' tat.

Also thinking about venturing into the chestpiece region. Hmmm...

I think I'ma go look at some arty shit and get inspired.

Yay, more shit talk.

I'm frustrated with the state of things at the moment.

Everything's getting so stagnant and redundant. All the scene kid bands look and sound exactly the same, and that's all kids are listening to these days. Green Day is back, and worse than ever (AND they're being blasted into my face in all mediums, which is SO goddamn annoying. I know my enemy. It's Green Day.). People are venturing into music just because they don't know what else to do and they're SUCCEEDING because the general public will cling to whatever Myspace or MTV tells them to.

I want to disembowel Katy Perry. Her songs sound like they came from a confused, attention-hungry 14-year-old girl's blog. And her most popular song is a favorite amongst idiot drunk girls who only kiss other girls to get guys' attention, NOT because they actually like girls.

And if I hear ONE MORE band that sounds like The Fray, I'm going to kill myself.

Then there's the fashion world right now. Have you ever LOOKED at Lady Gaga? She's like a visual fucking seizure. Those structured skirts that make her look like she's got 50 inch hips and the leotards and all the fucking gigantic plastic pyramid spikes have to go. AND THE FLAT, BLUNT-ASS BANGS. I CAN'T DEAL WITH LOOKING AT HER ANYMORE! I dig her music, don't get me wrong, but are you people blind or something? She's the furthest thing from a fashion icon EVER. And everything at Zumiez for the past year has been making me want to die. 'Designers' are throwing rainbow splatter (or what I lovingly call 'technicolor vomit') on everything and the shit is selling like hotcakes. GO AWAY PLZ. Monochrome hi-tops and tshirts with rainbow logos are NOT fashion.

People are calling themselves makeup artists and are just painting a fucking stripe across their eyes and gluing rhinestones to their faces. THIS IS NOT ART!

And right now, Gregory Baxley is picking up a camera somewhere. And people are actually believing that the bullshit he slings has some element of talent to it. And I know he's probably gonna google himself and find this and send me a threatening message, like he did to two other people I know. Hey man, not everyone's gonna like your shit. It's not the end of the world. Take a photography course.

NOBODY PUTS ANY EFFORT OR CREATIVITY INTO ANYTHING ANYMORE!!! I HATE IT!

What is this 'morning' business?

I'm stuck with 6 mentholated cigarettes and one full flavored cigarette to last me until like 5pm. GUH! I'm so over this shit. Terry and I have been going through a carton every 3-4 days or so. And considering my Completes have gone from $21.50 to $30.50, that's not so good. Better than paying like $80 for one carton of premium smokes, but still. I'm used to living on the super cheap. Time to quit, I think.

I cannot believe I'm awake. I ended up having to knock myself out with some NyQuil around 1 this morning. Tragic. But I woke up on time and got Terry to worky about 15 minutes early.

What else is news? Hmmm. Terry fell halfway through the roof yesterday afternoon. It was scary shit. I was watching tv and I heard this crash and saw his legs dangling through the ceiling in the hallway. Luckily, he caught himself in time and pulled himself back up.

Yeti's been really distraught about all the noise coming from the roof. Poor baby.

"When it's sunny out, people drive more slowly!" -Stupid bitch on the news.

UH, NO. THEY DO NOT. They drive like crazy fucking idiots 'cause they're used to the rain and then they crash 'cause they're not paying attention and THAT'S why traffic gets backed up. Idiot. Why does it seem like I'm the only person in this fucking state who can drive like a maniac and NOT crash, no matter what the weather conditions are? Must be my cat-like reflexes. Heh.

Seriously. I've NEVER been in an accident. Never even been close.

Anyhow. Today after the boys wake up I'm gonna go through the shit in the hallway and start chucking everything. I'm loving this indiscriminate tossing of shit. It's cleansing. And our house is actually starting to look like sane people live here. Heh.

Oh, indiscretions...

ALSO! HEH! I was going through and deleting shit on my old computer and found about 10 videos of a certain ex-roommate fucking and blowing her ex. And it's REALLY obvious that it's her.

Leak? Use as blackmail so she'll give me back my shit? Sell to that douchebag Gregory Baxley?

y/n?

It's all happening...

NEWS.

1. Cleaned the shit out of my old room all day on Saturday. The first room. (mom's) Terry rented a huge garbage canister because (my) Terry is redoing the roof. So after the old roof was tossed, there was still a shitload of room in the bin. I literally tossed EVERYTHING that was in that room, save for some yearbooks, journals and a shoebox of old notes and stuff. So Terry and I have a room now! FUCK YES. We're sleeping on the floor because there's no twin mattress to fit in the bunk bed, but only until...

2. ...we move into John and Mo's apartment this month BECAUSE...

3. ...TERRY GOT HIS JOB BACK. He starts this morning. And on top of that, he landed this gig with a cover band that pays a ridiculous amount of money. So after we're moved into John's and Terry's able to take the bus to work, I'll be able to get a job somewhere and we'll be fucking HOME FREE.

Anyhow. I'ma go... do something.

Glorious victoly!

So I got an email back from Jac Vanek and I'm getting my effing bracelet. YAY! Just have to remember to go to the post office on Monday to mail the stupid one back. HAVE TO. We're gonna be out and about anyway 'cause Terry needs to go see about getting his old job back (they're hiring again-- YAY!). So I'll do that Monday morning.

VICTOLYSQUARED.

I need to write malicious blogs about celebrities for a living. I think this is my calling. WHY NOT ME?! Might as well make a few bucks off my bottomless rage. At least I'll feel that way for the next 30 minutes. HEH.

In other news. I'm stretching my right ear lobe today. 'Cause I am THAT EFFING BORED. Went from a 12 to an 8 with the help of glorious ID Glide. HEH. Hoping to get up to a 4, but I have to order an eyelet before I can do that.

Aaannnnddd cut.

Fucking ANGSTFACE.

Ya know what REALLY pisses me off? That effing Jac Vanek bracelet I ordered. Remember that? Well, I got it at the tail end of March, but it wasn't the fabulous 'Epic Fail' one I ordered. It was white and it says 'Legit' on it. FUCKING LEGIT. I emailed them about getting the wrong one and they said it was out of stock and I'd get it in April. I got an email receipt (TWO, actually) when it shipped and everything. But nothing in my fucking mailbox. I waited over a MONTH and NOTHING. So by now I think it's waaayyyy too late to bitch at them and try to send it back. I'm not even sure I want to deal with this company ever again.

The receipt they sent with it doesn't even have my information on it, it's the price, description and item# of the 'Legit' bracelet. Sketchy...?

So. If I send them an email and get a bad response, who wants to buy this stupid thing off me for $14? 'Cause that's what I paid for it including shipping.



EDIT:Okay. Email sent. We'll see what I get back from them tomorrow, I guess.

MUDDY!!!

My gigantic pleco buddy died today. I was pretty effing devastated. Somehow the pH dropped from 7.0 to around 6.1 since the last time I did a water change. Which really doesn't make sense. The only thing (step-dad) Terry could think of was that I did the water change on a day when there was a change in our actual tap water's pH. But thenthatdoesn't even make sense, 'cause I conditioned the water AND put in a pH neutralizer for good measure.

Still. He's gone and I'm sad. Now I just have the one albino cory left :/ So I'm thinking I'ma get the water levels all straightened out, go get my little quarantine tank out of storage and then go get some more fish sometime next week. I don't want the little guy to be all alone. Plus only having one tiny cory in a ten gallon tank is kinda ridiculous. Heh.

Rest in peace, sir :'(

MEHHHH.

So much to do today. For me at least, heh. Gotta go pick up my new tabs, take Terry to pawn some shit and to his treatment center to turn in some paperwork, then we've gotta go to the hospital or some walk-in clinic to get him antibiotics for his alleged step throat. I don't get this. I took him to the hospital in Arlington about a week ago because he felt like he couldn't breathe (we thought it was allergies). So we wait in the goddamn ER for like 3 hours for him to be seen by a real doctor. He got his test results back today and they say he has strep.

He's not sick, though. Neither am I. And to my knowledge, no one he's hung out with in the past week has gotten sick. So that's weird. I'm hoping shit got mixed up or something. I dunno.

Anyhow. Time to suck down my coffee and get motivated.

Fartface.

So I FINALLY hacked my phone. AWESOMEFACE. I remembered that I had a data cable that would fit it from my awesome digital picture frame. That I got last December. Wow. I freed up like 4MB on that bitch just deleting the stock ringtones, images and videos. Which is good, considering it only has like 6MB total and no mini SD slot. I really REALLY need a new phone, but I'll settle for modding my piece of shit razr in the meantime. Heh. I put the most ridiculous ringtones on it.

Next up: loading fancy themes onto it (I found one with zebra print menu headers) and taking out the rest of the AT&T MEdianet bloat. WEWT.

"Are you blogging?"
"...yes."
"Oh, my blogging beauty."

PFFTTT!!!

So today I have to go pick up my new tabs in Smokey Point. Trying to get motivated to do that. One more cup of coffee should do the trick.

MUST... SHOP!!!

Sometimes I get bored and visit the Guess website.

And sometimes I fall in love with an article of clothing and get really depressed because I know that if I still worked at the factory store, I'd get 40% off these effing jeans:


EFF. MY. LIFE.

Also. Those badass rainbow 'zebracorn' heels are no longer on Hot Topic's website. I KNEW I should have bought those while I had my tax return! DAMNIT. I'ma go crawl into a hole and die :/

OOOO. I'll settle for these, though:

FUCK YES.

And these!


FUCK MY LIFE!!!

Anyhow. Now I get to wait around for Terry to call so I can go pick him up from Sir Kevin's.

Who needs a piercing?

As some of you know, I'm piercing once again due to being a broke-ass unemployed ho. I have limited jewelry, but if you bring your own (pending my approval-- nothing acrylic and size must allow for swelling), I'll cut you a fabulous deal.

I only offer basic piercings. Nothing crazy like surface piercings. Price range is an average of $35 per piercing or around $25 if you provide jewelry.

If you or a trusted friend who is over 18 needs anything done, please shoot me a message and we'll see what we can work out!

That's my name, don't put a knife in it!

DEAR GOD, YES. 'Cause 8+8=18.

Haven't blogged in a while. Holy balls. Not that I have much I actually feel like blogging about. Guh. Just been drunk and making an ass out of myself everywhere I go, heh.

Still broke and jobless. But I get to go to Texas next month with Grampa. WOOOO. Roadtrip.

Nothing else to report. The only changes that have really gone on include Terry basically living here. Heh. And a spotless fucking kitchen. It's lovely.

Fartballs.

Gnar.

Not having money is driving me insane. I want nothing more right now than to be able to drive to town and grab a Rockstar. Or five. And some burgers. UGH.

And I'm sick of sleeping on couches with Terry everywhere. I just want us to have our own place with a goddamn bed. Although, it's pretty funny how Shawn and Willis put it. Apparently we 'tetris' ourselves onto couches. It's a fine art.

Other annoyances include my bottom jaw bone seeming to reform itself. I can barely fit my bottom denture in in the mornings. I have to let it sit there until my gums swell up sufficiently enough to make it stay put. Irritating, and semi-painful. I'm gonna become independently wealthy so I can get implants.

Anyhow. I think we're gonna stay in for the majority of today and I'm gonna clean the bejesus out of the kitchen. Then make some delicious foodz. Then tend to my poor baby's gnarly sunburn.

Ol' Stingface.

The past few days have been... fucking erratic.

Terry and I existed on two packs of smokes for two days. I don't know how the fuck we did it.

Went to Erin's birthday at the casino Saturday night, then headed to Zach and Molly's. Had something like four jagerbombs and half a bottle of Pancho within about an hour. I blacked out hardcore. I guess I tried to break up with Terry, then wandered off to find my car (which was about six miles away at Dave and Erin's, mind you), and faceplanted into some stinging nettles. Goddamn. THEN! I belted some songs on Rock Band with Molly, stinging face and all. HEH!!

Yesterday I took Terry to go wash some windows at this monster of a house on Shumway that his mom cleans so he could get some cash to stick in my gas tank, 'cause I was stuck on the island on empty. Then we hung out with Laura at her work, went to Julie and Laura's after she got off and had some beers. Then later we hung out with Gordy and Ashley again. Good times.

Today I'm really wanting to go meet up with Terry and Shawn at the river in Silvana, but this not having smokes thing is fucking killing me. Hopefully mom or Terry will go pick some up after they get off work, 'cause they're all out as well. So I have to wait 'til around 5 before I can even leave. Poop.

Well. Gonna go shower.

Pants.

I'm so not looking forward to going into work today to get my job back. UGH. Yeah, I miss making money, I miss Joseph, and I've been kinda going crazy doing nothing, but I don't wanna go back to Perry Ellis! UGH! I have no choice in this economy, though. I'm sure as fuck not gonna find anything anywhere else. Plus I need to start making money 'cause I never got to buy our Sasquatch tickets while I had all that tax return money. Fuck my life.

Although, being able to say that I spent nearly $500 alone on Pancho Villa and Busch Light is pretty epic. HEH. And I spent about $50 to be kicked out of El Corazon. EPIC.

Sooooo yeah. Terry's making eggs and then I guess we're gonna head out within the next two hours :/ It's fucking dildos.

Balls.

I HATE THE GODDAMN MONOTONE-ASS COMCAST COMMERCIALS! THEY ARENOTCOMCASTIC!!!!

Anyhow. Gots the toofs. I'm wearing lipgloss. OMG. I'm definitely gonna have to tinker with them a bit 'cause since I stopped drooling like a crazy person, they've started triggering my gag reflex like a bitch. Grampa's are doing the same thing to him. We think the top palette is too long. But meh. They look super fucking fantastic and I'M WEARING LIPGLOSS! HEH!

So tonight I have to acquire some cigarettes and go hang out with Terry and Laura on teh island. Wewt.

Also. HOW FUCKING RETARDED does one have to be to ship a tiny package addressed to Arlington, WA to FUCKING MIAMI, FL?!?! My bracelet is in Miami. WHY?!?! I could have effing had it by now! EFF!

CARL'S JOON-YUH!!!!

So Tuesday night was horrible. I only remember about 80% of it. I don't want anyone to recap it for me in any way, shape or form, so just know that if I blew up at you, I'm really sorry. I only really remember freaking out on Terry, and we're still okay, so... yeah. I dunno. I'm sorry to everyone involved. I'm still pretty embarrassed about the whole thing.

Last night I met up with Terry at Gordy's, felt sick and passed out immediately in the computer room. Heh. And that was about it. We woke up at 8 this morning and I took him to a jobby he needed to finish on the island. Then I went home and watched tv for about 12 hours because our computer blew up. FUCK!

Teefs tomorrow! I'm going to eat the most gigantic burger I can find with all sortsa bacon and shit on it. It's gonna be fucking fabulous. I need to find something to do tomorrow night as well. Must unleash the toofs upon the world. I cannot WAIT!!!

Pants.

So mom and I found my birth certificate in my storage unit last night. We started hucking boxes and their contents everywhere and finally found it in one of the last boxes. HEH.

IT WAS IN THE LAAASSSSTT PLACE I LOOOOOKED!!!!

Also found all my studded belts and all the letters to my license plate cover. So I've gotta glue that thing back together (since I backed into Kyle's Saturn way back when and my plate holder was the only thing that got fucked up, HEH.) and spell out something super obnoxious. 'Cause "Emperor of Fabulous" wasn't obnoxious enough. Terry suggested I spell out "I'M DRUNK". HA!

Got off track. So today Grampa and I left for Canada at 6am and got to Surrey around 8:30-ish. Had impressions made, got fitted with temp wax dentures and got to pick our tooth color and whatnot. Mine are fairly white. Like, the second to the whitest shade. Heh. We had to make several trips out for food and coffee while the guy worked, but we were out of there by 3pm. We're going back on Friday morning and we'll be toof'd!!! AHMFUG.

The border people are assholes. End of story. I know it's their job to be in our business, but EFF. They could be a little nicer.

...eh. I guess I would hate my job if I was a borderfuck, too.

Well. I'ma go get Terry and cling to his head for the rest of the night.

Ow.

Shitty shitty shit.

I've been violently ill for the past four days or so. I finally got over the fever and gnarliness this morning, but was left with a really intense cough. I coughed so hard this morning that I fucked my rib up AGAIN. However, this time I felt something actually pop. (mom's) Terry says that I ripped some cartilage in between my ribs. So that's awesome. I've been doped up on vicodin all day, slipping in and out of consciousness. This is the first time I've really gotten up off the couch except to pee. And I'm in one of those lumbar-support braces. Goddamn, I really fucked myself up this time.

The other suckage: Grampa made our appointments to get our dentures made for Tuesday. Not that that's bad, I'm SUPER excited about it, BUT- I'm not sure how long this cough is gonna last and I'm not entirely sure where my birth certificate is. And I need that to get in and out of Canada, I'm sure. Mom already looked for it here and didn't find it, so I guess the only other place it could be is in my storage unit. I really don't want to have to go digging through all that shit with my rib in shambles.

I also somehow blew through almost $700 in a week. Because I am full of LOSE. Good thing I can probably start my job back up at the end of this week.

AND IT DOESN'T END THERE! Parts of my moustache tattoo aren't sticking :( So I have to have Jerm touch it up when the rest of the scab falls off.

The only thing keeping me level-headed through all this has been Terry. Heh. We've seriously come leaps and fucking bounds from where we were six months ago. I've missed this gooey-wub feeling so much. I love you, baby. You are my little gentleman.

Feeling woozy. Gonna go lay back down and watch me some Tim and Eric.

I'M RICH, BITCH!!!

MY TAX RETURN WAS $826!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT THE HELL?!?!

Now if only I could get a hold of Terry's ass...BAH!

So yeah. I'll be out and about tonight. And tomorrow. And the next night. HEH!

"That's dildos."

Karina- You left your eyelashes in addition to your toothbrush and flat iron (all of which I will be mailing to you sometime next week). I are wearing dems. HEH!

And ya know, I wish I'd thought of applying falsies with tweezers YEARS ago. I only learned the other day that this is the superior method. Wow. Win.

Um! Yeah. Yesterday we all partied at Danger's apartment. 'We all' includes Terry, Mike, Pepper, Laura, Julie, Shawn, Alyssa, Candy, a couple more Dans I had never met, and a bunch of other people.

Damn all these Dans.

I drank a lot. I blacked out about half the night. Mike drove me to B'fish, which I remember, but I don't remember eating my food at all. He assures me that I scarfed down my Jumbo Jack in about two bites. Which is AMAZING considering I don't have any teeth. HEH! Then a bunch of drama broke out involving the disappearance of Terry's super expensive glasses. Which somehow led to one of the Dans headbutting Terry in the eye. Shit got nuts and we had to kick the other two Dans out. Then shit was chill for a while, but these two guys who I guess are notorious for superdrunkdrama showed up and Terry wanted to leave. So we came back here, attempted to watch a movie and failed, then passed out.

Woke up today around 1 with a massive hangover. Watched tv with mom 'til around 8 and headed back to Stanwood to go to The Hotel for jam night. Terry played guitar for five songs and then drums for one. UGH! I love watching him play drums, 'cause he really doesn't so much anymore. Sexy motherfucker. After that we hung out at Dan's with Mike, Pepper, Julie, Laura and Shawn again. Had a couple beers, took Terry home around 11, and so here I am back at home. Woooo.

Tomorrow I think I'm going back into the 'wood to hang out with Terry again, 'cause I still have about $5 left from the cash (mom's) Terry gave me Wednesday night. THEN! On Saturday I'm getting that $20 from my Wamu debit rewards. YAY!

Sleeeeeeeep.

"We're talkin' 'bout brunettes, not fighter je-heeeets!"

I'm watching all these hair and makeup tuts on youtube and I'm starting to feel extremely overwhelmed. HEH. This is amazing.

Welcome to cable internets.

Know what I just realized that filled my heart with absolute joy? I'ma gonna be able to wear lipstick again in approximately three weeks. HOLY BALLS. I've always dreamed of being able to wear hooker red lipstick, but even when my teeth were good in my teenage years, they were still yellow-ish and no matter what shade of red I tried, they'd look worse. Very much looking forward to having white teeth. FOREVER.

And this just in... totally getting a Drinky Crow tattoo. HEH. Dunno where yet, but it's inevitable.

Pants.

Glorious weekend! *insert gooeywubs*

Tentative date set for Canadatoofs trip: the first week of April. SO FUCKING EXCITED.

The bone splinter on the top gums is gradually pushing out and breaking off. It feels like the next time it starts to push out will be the last of it. The three on the bottom, however, are gonna have to be taken out by my dentist. That's kind of annoying. Oh well. I'll give him a call on Tuesday.

So this last weekend was pretty epic. On Thursday Doom and I picked up Karina from SeaTac. Then we went and got Terry from Stanwood, bought a bunch of beer and hung out at my house. On Friday Karina and I drove to Harborview to visit her mom (she's just doing a sleep study), then went to Monroe and had Taco Bell with her sisters. Had an incident with a cat (HEH!). Went to Gramma and Grampa's for a second so they could see her, then home, then to Andrew and Christine's house in Everett. I got so fucking hammered. Why is it that I can drink an entire fifth of Pancho to myself, but I can't drink more than 6 shots of Tarantula? Heh!

Went back home later that morning and passed out. Karina got a ride into Monroe from mom that morning, and Terry and I didn't wake up until 3pm. WOW. Lazed around all day, tried to get a hold of Don but had no luck, went back to Monroe, took Karina to buy a new flat iron at Fred Meyer, then drove to Roosevelt to hang out with Jerm. His house is so goddamn awe-inspiring. Just looking at his walls and all his arty shit had my head teeming with ideas. Nothing's ever been able to do that to me before. So we hung out and drank some beer and two gigantic bottles of wine. Terry and Jerm were supposed to go jam with some guy today, so I left around 2 to go back to Gramma's. Terry's gonna stay there a few days and give Jerm guitar lessons in exchange for tattoos. NICE. So I imagine I'll go get him sometime on Tuesday.

Can I just say I'm so in love with Terry? Can I? Heh. I think we've been making some serious improvement over the last couple weeks. I'm so goddamn happy. I feel like we're actually...in loveagain. And we're totally moving to North Seattle ASAP. Well, as soon as we save up the money to, which won't be for a while because we're both kinda unemployed at the moment. Heh!

Well. Gonna go print out some pictures of tattoo-inspiration to throw at Jerm when I go pick Terry up. 'Cause yeah. I'm totally having him do at least one of them when I get my tax return.

Ooooo. And then Grampa should be back with some Taco Bell here pretty quick. YUSSSS. Yeah, I eat my 7-layer burritos with a spork, what of it?!?!

Welcome to the 21st century, Westvang residence!

So we're finally cable internetted at the hoose. This is amazing and this is bad. 'Cause (if I can ever get on the computer between Terry playing his rpgs and Doom photoshopping for hours - gonna have to set up my computer somewhere) I'm gonna be severely tempted to buy a webcam and waste my life away on Stickam. Yep. I've had an account for over a year now, I believe, but have never used it due to the dial-up from hell.

Pants.

Also, tonight I'm picking up K-townfacepants from SeaTac. And I'm totally dragging her to the little reunion Don, Terry, Joe and I are having at Don's apartment on Saturday. Oh god. This is gonna be fucking amazing.

OOOOO and my car is sparkly clean and running like a champ. Grampa removed some road debris from my fan belt (turns out that's why it was squealing like a bitch), filled it with oil and washed it and I spent about an hour vacuuming it out and Febreze-ing the shit out of it yesterday. It was so fucking gross. I hadn't washed it in almost a year (0.o) and hadn't vacuumed it since sometime around September. Jesus balls. Yay for Terry no longer being able to call Dr. Tran "The Warrant Wagon". HEH!

H'okay. Off to wash my ass and go home for a moment and then pick up teh Doom.

Joys.

Things I'm looking forward to. Feverishly:

March 7th and 8th: dragging Terry's ass into Everett so we can hang out with Don and Joe, and daylight savings, respectively. Can't effing wait for more daylight.

March 14th: Wamu debit rewards get rolled over into my checking. WEWT! Gonna be $20 richer! Sounds sad, but I'm SOOOOO fucking strapped right now. I just put my last $7 into my gas tank tonight :/ Other than that I have $3 in my checking that I'm too paranoid to touch because I've overdrafted twice in the last two months. ACK.

March 17th: projected day that my TAX RETURN is deposited into my checking. FUUUUCCKKKK YESSS!!! FotC and Sasquatch tickets and near-unlimited gas money! WOOOO!!!

And sometime in mid-April, of course, Gramma, Grampa and I will be heading up to Canada for two days to get our teefs made. And that's just gonna make my whole effing life.

So yeah. I may be poor as shit right now, but I've got a lot of fancy stuff coming up. So I'll just keep looking at shit that way, heh.

Jesus BALLS!

Hell of a night.

Last night I went over to Eden and Ellie's party in their parents' shop. Downed two rum and cokes, one shot of rum and four beers within an hour and a half, I believe. Wound up dancing up on everyone's asses and then blacked out on the couch. Woke up around 1am completely alone and covered in what I later discovered was whipped cream. Freaked out and called Mike, who was being arrested at that very moment. I could hear the cops yelling at him to put his hands up and get on the ground. I won't go into it. So I freaked out even worse, drove to John and Dave's and started calling people to try and figure out what the eff happened and what jail he might be headed to and then called Cindy. Continued to talk to her all night as new things developed on her end. Passed out at 5-ish.

Wow. Intense shit, I tell you what.

SASQUATCH!!!!1one

Eff any other plans I had for my tax return money. I AT LEAST have to go to Sasquatch on May 24th. I HAVE TO SEE NINE INCH NAILS. My future existence depends on it. Jane's Addiction would be an added bonus/boner, as well.

So. If I buy me and Terry's tickets for three days and pay for camping, it'll be $494 plus Ticketbastard rape charges. If we just go for Sunday, it'll be $228 plus rape charges.

But effing Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Kings of Leon are on Saturday and effing Santigold and WHITEST KIDS are on Monday. FUCK.

I wish I had the money right now so I could get three day passes for $154 each. DAMNIT.

Oh well. At least I'll get to see NIN before I die. And I haven't been to The Gorge since Warped Tour 2002.

WHO ELSE IS GOING?!?!

Read more:http://www.myspace.com/bythethroat/blog?page=6#ixzz0zY6qP9hc

Sick of fucking everything *insert angst*

I'm sick of not working and having to fucking finagle money out of my mother every week.

Sick of bone splinters in my gums.

Sick of mom's house. It fucking STINKS every time I come over and it's always fucking filthy as fuck.

Sick of always feeling like I need to be somewhere else. And wasted.

Sick of having to pick and choose where the fuck I want to go/what I want to do every night because someone might say something derogatory about my lack of teeth.

SICK AND FUCKING TIRED OF NOT HAVING ANYWHERE TO GO WITH MY BOYFRIEND. WE CAN'T EVEN GET A MOMENT ALONE OR HAVE SEX ANYMORE.

Sick of not being able to eat whatever I want.

SICK OF GAINING SO MUCH WEIGHT BECAUSE OF ALL THE ENSURE I HAVE TO DRINK!!! I've gone up a whole fucking pant size in just under three weeks!

SICK AND TIRED OF MY GAS TANK ALWAYS BEING ON EMPTY!

I knew all this was coming. I understand that everything's gonna be 100x better after I get my teeth, but this whole transition period is fucking killing me! I can't just hide for two months. I CAN'T. I NEED to socialize or I feel like I might literally go insane. But this is made way fucking harder since my tax return isn't coming for another month and some of my friends/boyfriend have INCREDIBLY judgmental and closed-minded friends. And that's not something I'm 'just paranoid' about. One of Terry's friends is super nice to my face and then turns around and asks Terry what the fuck he's doing with me because of how my 'teeth' used to look. Why Terry shares this shit with me, I have no idea. I guess it's best that he's honest. And at least he defends me. But in my experience, people don't understand what the hell a degenerative disease is. They all chalk it up to me 'being a crackhead'. I'm NOT a crackhead! I've never touched the shit in my life! This is NOT MY FAULT!!!

I don't want to be here. This house fucking reeks of garbage. But it's too late for me to go 'home' to my Gramma's because the second I walk onto her porch, the dogs will go ballistic and wake Grampa up. AND! I got a nice surprise when I walked in the house just now. Fucking (mom's) Terry is passed out drunk on my couch. I have to fucking go to sleep in my brother's room now.

Come April when I've got my teeth and everything's all good, I'm fucking out of here and I'm taking Terry with me. I don't care if I have to become a fucking stripper in Lake City. I'm DONE.

Boredom. Angst.

I need to download a game that will take over my life. I'm sick of downloading tv shows and I'm pretty sure I have everything I was gonna be tempted to buy within the next two months anyway. Someone suggest a lifeforce-sucking game, please.

...and DON'T say WoW. NO.

Also. I've figured out my half/quarter sleeve. It's gonna go up onto my shoulder. Those are the only details I'm providing. It's gonna be so fucking pretty.

I think I'm officially done with stars. They don't have any effing meaning anymore. They're just shit people get stamped on their fucking bodies when they can't think of anything more original. I really kinda wish I didn't get those stars on my stomach. It started out as a project and I completely lost interest in it once a certain someone decided to follow suit and get almost the same fucking thing and then proceed to make a contest (that I wasn't even participating in) out of who could get more than 100 stars on their body within one month.

Same with the mudflap girl. UGH. SO ANNOYING.

I'm really anxious to start on my new idea like now. But like an idiot, I didn't e-file my return, so I probably won't get it for another fucking month. The tattoo itch has been getting worse and worse as the weeks go by. It's been over two years since my last tattoo. And that one's about to get covered/modified as well. Heh.

Ummm. Yeah. New game. Tattoos. Balls.

I'ma go make a milkshake, I feel.

...amazing.

This morning I am woken to this:

Grampa: "Bre! Wake up! We're gonna go to Seattle tonight and see the First Annual Cricket Fight! Come on!"

...wtf? I've been trying to look it up, but I can't find anything. Heh. Classic Grampa and his shenanigans.

BALLS.

So. I effed up.

I cannot seem to drive without smoking. I did a great deal of driving yesterday. So I'm smoking again :/ It would have been 11 days today. Oh well. I'll have other chances to quit, I suppose.

Went to Sally's yesterday afternoon to pick up some nail stripers, and to my amazement, they now carry China Glaze. I overcame my urge to buy like 5 different colors and just bought a hot pink one. Along with black and white stripers. Then I went to go visit with anyone who happened to be at the commune. Turned out to just be Kyle, Avery, LoveJu and LoveBen. Hung out for a minute then took Kyle to my house 'cause he was all irritable and didn't want to be in Marysville anymore. Picked up Doom wandering down Burn Road, went to the house to grab some shit, dumped Kyle off and took Doom to John's. Went back to Granite, played with my nails, got a hold of Terry and went out to the island to hang out with him and Laura. Drank until he passed out and went to hang out with Mike and Rachel in Smokey Point around 2am. We spent 3 1/2 hours catching each other up on the internet, drinking YooHoo and watching RuPaul's Drag Race On Demand. Heh! Went home, passed out, took Kyle into Marysville at 2 and then headed back to Granite.

Haven't done much since then except burn a shitload more dvds. I got a wild crafty hair up my ass though and made a pouch for my Zune out of leopard fur. It's fancy. Just a prototype though. Gonna make more when I can find some fleece to line them with in Gramma's sewing room. Then I'm gonna get some other short pile animal print fur at JoAnn and start selling them on Etsy. They're gonna be super fancy.

I really wanted to do something tonight but I'm broke as fuck. My gas tank is on empty and I have literally $8 to last me until I get my tax return. I really REALLY wanted to go to Dave's birthday party on the island, but there's gonna be too many people I don't know there and chances are one of them is gonna get wasted and say something nasty about my mouth. I'll just hang out with my close friends for now 'cause they won't judge me.

Anyhow. Off to go be crafty n'shit.

"Now turn yourself into the police...

...'cause you're a child prostitute and you should be ashamed of yourself!!!"

You know you've made it when you get blocked on Gheyspace by a wannabe naked internet 'pinup':

(I'm dying of laughter by the way...)



Is it lonely up there on your pedestal? 'Cause the only reason I've ever tried to contact you was to get back all the shit you stole from me. Which I STILL would like back. Hmmm.

You are a fucking coward.

PFFFTTTTTT!!!

Today is glorious and I'm feeling rather fancy, so I'm going out into the world. Gotta start calling people in a minute to figure out who wants to hang out, 'cause all I really planned to do was go to Sally to get some of those nail stripers. I've taken to manicuring myself again and I wanna step up to the super-fancy level. Heh.

I've downloaded and burned so many goddamn tv shows and movies it's SICKENING. So far I've got seasons 10-12 of South Park, seasons 2-4 of ATHF, season 1 of Metalocalypse, half of season 2 of Flight of the Conchords and REPO! The Genetic Opera. All of which I have yet to watch 'cause I've been too preoccupied with the downloading and burning. Heh.

And my Zune only has 1.02GB left. Fuck my life. New 120GB Zune or new phone with tax return money? I'm in a pickle.

Oh. And I'm totally stoked for Miss March. I'm actually gonna have to go see that when it comes out. Whitest Kids ftw.

Bucket list (work in progress)

1. Strengthen singing voice and overcome fear of singing in front of people.

2. Strengthen my entire body so I can...

3. Become a poledancer and burlesque performer (REAL and CLASSY, not Urban Bombshells I'm-naked-for-no-reason-and-have-no-talent bullshit) for fun, not profit.

4. Adopt a bull terrier.

5. Live in LA for one year.

To be continued as I think of more things...

"You kinda taste like a grouse, baybeh."

Figures. My weekend was full of awesome and then turned to complete and utter shit within a few seconds last night. I don't care to elaborate.

Today was better. Had a really foul mood going on the first couple hours of work and was looking for a reason to punch someone in the face, but Mike cheered me up a bit. The store was busy as hell. It was ridiculous. Replenished shoes and flip-flops, cleaned up the stockroom and then Chelsey busted her head open on the door to the garbage compactor. It sucked. Blood was dripping from her head but she ended up okay. Shelby wrapped an ace bandage around her head. It was awesome. I wish I had my camera...

Off at 4, went to Schuck's to buy brake pads (FORTY FUCKING DOLLARS!), stopped by the library for a 1040EZ but remembered too late that it was closed for President's Day (turns out mom had already picked some up anyway), went home. Yay.

I need to do laundry. Then I think I should try to call Terry. Yep.

Stroke of genius for the day...

"The dolphins use low level radiation and revolving RF frequencies to track our brain waves... if you hear Deep Blue Something run 'cause they found you! Good luck!"

MIKE YOU ARE FUCKING AMAZING.

Delicious chick pop.

I've been on a female singer/songwriter downloading spree since last night. I'ma type up who I've got so far and if anyone wants to suggest anything else for me to give a listen, leave me a comment plllzzzz.

Duffy 'Rockferry'
Frou Frou 'Details'
Gabriella Cilmi 'Lessons To Be Learned'
Imogen Heap 'Speak For Yourself'
Lily Allen 'It's Not Me, It's You'
Meiko 's/t'
Neko Case (pretty much every goddamn album she has. I'm in LOVE.)
Santogold 's/t'

Yeah. After a few more days of this, my Zune will be FULL. Sadface!

Also. Yes, I'm about to download the new-ish Portishead. Oooo. I can't wait!

Normandie?!?

Wait a tic...

Normandie? Same members as theSTART?

Can someone explain this to me please? I feel so effing out of the loop!

HARRRPPP MEHHH!!

In any case, it's lovely musics. Of course.

What the pants?

Well, I started nicotine patches today 'cause I wanted to smoke so badly that I was in tears. And EXTREMELY irritable. When I get snippy with my own mother, you KNOW something is extremely wrong. All was good until I took my pain pill and antibiotic at 9:30-ish. By the time Delocated came on I was feeling 10x more loopy than usual, and when I was halfway through Aqua Teen I had to roll up into a ball on the couch and pretend there was no outside world. I was pretty much panicking with the spins and hot flashes and the whole nine yards until Tim and Eric was over. Which means I was freaking out for like an hour and 15 minutes.

...funny how I look at today's timeline of events as segments on Adult Swim.

Wee. So after that fiasco I immediately ripped off my nicotine patch and started downing Ensures. Not so sure why. Probably 'cause I figured I needed to 'eat' something to feel better.

Then when I took my next painkiller at 3am, I felt nothing. These things are effing WEIRD. Half the time I feel nothing, the other half I get really loopy and can barely walk. But in a good, warm and fuzzy, non-panicky way.

I dunno. I'm gonna download some Metalocalypse and possibly try to go to sleep.